Category: Book Reviews

Anyone who has delved into Shakespearean studies probably learned that Falstaff was originally written as Sir John Oldcastle, Protestant martyr who was burned at the stake in Henry V’s reign. But Oldcastle had descendants who took exception to this unsavory depiction, and the great bard rewrote the part for the fat, cowardly, drunken braggart called Falstaff. Whether he intentionally named his character after the historical knight is up to interpretation, but the author has gone to great length to clear the name of Sir John Fastolf and demonstrate that he, too, has been misrepresented. Although there are similarities between the two:

“They were both captains in the king’s wars, much involved in recruiting and mustering soldiers, including drunken soldiers. They were both associated with a Boar’s Head tavern (though Falstaff’s was at Eastcheap, Fastolf’s in Southwark). They may both have been pages to Thomas Mowbray, Earl (and later Duke) of Norfolk. Each man used forceful and colourful language (Fastolf in writing, Falstaff in speech); and each attracted devoted servants. Most importantly in terms of reputation, Shakespeare portrays both men as cowards. We shall see that, in the case of Fastolf, this was most unjust; but Falstaff does not for a moment hide his cowardice.”

Sounds convincing, doesn’t it? But once the first chapter is finished, the comparisons cease and Shakespeare is not mentioned again. This book is a full-bodied biography of Fastolf, who was a major player in the conquest of Normandy, especially after Henry V’s death. He was an important commander under the Duke of Bedford, regent of France (and brother of Henry V). Not only did he spend much of his life in service during the war, he acquired great wealth which he spent judiciously back in England. After Bedford’s death, his career spiraled downwards, and he was to live the rest of his long life a disappointed man in England. But he continued to serve Henry VI’s interests, though the king’s advisors rarely listened to his advice. He lost many of his French acquisitions during the fiasco under Somerset’s incompetent command. An unfortunate episode during the battle of Patay, where he left the field with his men when all was lost, cast a shadow over his reputation and dogged him until the end. This is undoubtedly one of the main reasons his name has been linked to Falstaff, and the author hopes to give us a more balanced portrayal. Although this is not the most exciting period of history to read about, the book moves right along and gives us a lot of good information.

John of Gaunt is an enigmatic figure to most of us. You can’t help but remember his famous speech in Shakespeare’s Richard II, using a play of words with his name. But by then he was at death’s door—weak and pitiful. We know he was hated by the city of London and lost his fabulous Savoy Palace, burned to the ground during the Peasants’ Revolt. He has come down to us as an arrogant, unyielding, aristocratic noble, but with the help of this biography we get to see the subtler side of Gaunt. He seems to have started out as all those things we remember, but throughout his career he became a successful and valued statesman, ambassador and—most importantly—protector of the king’s prerogative. Although many assumed that he had designs on the throne for himself, in reality it would have been against his honor to usurp the king, no matter how helpless, deserving, or ungrateful Richard may have seemed. He had his own crown to chase down—Castile—and though his efforts proved useless, he did manage to marry off two of his daughters to Spanish heirs who begat lines of kings that lasted hundreds of years. If he had been as good a general as he was a negotiator, perhaps history would have been kinder to his memory.

Here’s a good representation of Gaunt’s proficiency (during the Peasants’ Revolt while he was in Scotland): “John of Gaunt was a true Plantagenet; no sign of fear betrayed his secret to the Scottish envoys. While his couriers were riding with orders to the constables of his castles in Yorkshire and on the Welsh marches to garrison them for a siege and admit no one without letters under his seal, the Duke quietly went on with the negotiations, and by the offer of liberal terms persuaded the Scots to prolong the truce. Not till the compact was sealed did the Scots learn that they had lost the golden opportunity of attacking England in the hour of weakness.”

Richard, who disliked and feared the power of his uncle, encouraged him to go and claim his crown in Castle—only to discover that once the Duke was gone, he had lost his only protector. The Lords Appellant, intent on removing the king’s advisors, stripped Richard of all his powers while Gaunt was overseas. Richard learned his lesson well, and once he was in control again, recalled his uncle and showered him with favors. By then Gaunt had achieved the height of respectability and for the rest of his life he championed the king and strove to secure the future of his heirs. The author gives us a well-rounded depiction of this oft-maligned Duke, and I came to understand his disappointments as well as his accomplishments. I suspect he would have disapproved of his son’s usurpation of the throne, but of course Richard waited until he died to commence his scheme of depriving Henry of Gaunt’s vast patrimony. This was a well-written biography and quite useful to understanding the period.

This book with the catchy title has actually proved to be very readable and informative. I had hoped it would answer some of my most nagging questions (what exactly was the relationship between Thomas Percy and Prince Henry, and of course, why did he throw everything away to fight at Shrewsbury? And why did Hotspur throw everything away on such a risky venture?) Alas, I can only assume that the answers are lost to history and we are left with plenty of speculation. Nonetheless, this book provided me with many details I didn’t find elsewhere and that helped explain situations.

“The alternative and reasonable explanation is that whatever loyalty to Henry he (Thomas) had was dissipated by the king’s treatment of him. Also, there was family solidarity: he probably felt unable to fight for a king his nephew was seeking to depose. What is unclear is the point or stage at which he was drawn into the plot. His move, however, was militarily significant in that he brought with him eight knights, 96 esquires and 866 archers, most of them staunch Ricardians and/or Cheshire men, that constituted over a quarter of the Prince’s force.”

The same quandary applies to the relationship between Hotspur and Prince Henry. Hotspur was often portrayed as young Henry’s mentor, but anecdotal evidence gives us a small window of opportunity. Even biographies of Henry V yield little information. But enough of what is lacking. The author has given us a solid picture of the Percys starting with family background, leading to Henry Percy’s early career as first Earl of Northumberland. We get a thorough description of the wars and politics of the years between 1368-1389, bringing in the international influences. By chapter four, we explore the last ten years of King Richard’s reign and the revolution of Henry Bolingbroke, which relied heavily on the Percys for its success. They were greatly rewarded, but during the next few years it became evident that Henry IV was not as committed to their cause as they were to his. Using the rival family of the Nevilles as a counter-balance, Henry sought to control the overweening Percys by giving the Nevilles land and offices, just as Richard II had done. Alas, he only succeeded in driving them into the arms of Owain Glyn Dwr, who was more than happy to combine forces in an effort to unseat the usurper king.

A major fallout occurred as a result of the battle of Humbleton Hill—a huge success for the English against the Scots, where a large number of aristocrats were captured. “It was the fate of these men that shortly became the occasion of a bitter quarrel between the king and Hotspur. A week after the battle, on receipt of the news of the victory… Henry wrote to the Earl as Warden of the West March, strictly ordering that none of the Scottish prisoners should be ransomed or released, except on his authority. The stated reason for this prohibition was the ‘urgent causes now moving the king’ but without indicating what they were.” Earl Henry duly delivered his hostages to the king at Westminster, but “Hotspur refused to hand over the Earl of Douglas. In doing so, he flouted the rules of war, which accorded the king the right, for obvious political reasons, to captured commanders and prisoners of royal blood, on the understanding (which Henry explicitly gave in his letters) that he would suitable compensate the captor.” So you see, the author gives us a balanced description of events, unclouded by the usual haze of sentiment surrounding the chivalric Hotspur. The disaster at Shrewsbury was followed by two more failed rebellions of Henry Percy—the last when “he was in his early sixties, that is to say, he was a man of very advanced years, whose health may have been poor and faculties impaired. As regards his final throw in 1408, it seems clear that it had virtually no chance of success and that the Earl may well have known this as he set out.” A sad end to a proud and powerful man.

The dynasty did survive after all, but their eventual fate is outside the scope of this volume. Overall, I liked this book very much and find it to be a worthy addition to my library.

This is an extremely well-written book about one of those enigmatic heroes who was so well depicted by Shakespeare that we’ll never entirely shake loose from the vision he gave us. I think the author has done a remarkable job trying to remove fact from fiction, considering that historical Northumberland is pretty much a foreign country to us. We see Hotspur as a personification of the ideal knight as understood by his contemporaries, rather than an anomaly: “Thousands of dead, pillaged lands, war crimes against civilian populations and a number of other ‘unchivalrous’ deeds give us cause to question the medieval knight’s habitual need to prove himself through violent action; but this is exactly what it meant to live and breathe the code in a world where, like today, it was perfectly acceptable to destroy a country’s infrastructure and dismiss civilian deaths as collateral damage. In the medieval world, this WAS chivalry in its purest form…” It was Hotspur’s motivation to be the best, most chivalrous knight in the world and he pushed himself to extremes in order to achieve his goals. Naturally restless, he craved action and preferred dangerous assignments to boring garrison duty. And apparently he was very good at his job, which is why the Scots gave him his nickname.

We get a good feeling for what life was like on the marches between England and Scotland, and how violence and raiding was a part of life they understood all too well. The Percies were a law unto themselves, and ruled the north almost as kings; only a man born and raised in such an environment could control the tempestuous Scots. In this book, plenty of attention was given to Hotspur’s impetuous father, Henry Percy 1st Earl of Northumberland as well as his uncle, Thomas Percy—warrior, diplomat and politician—who served as Richard II’s Steward of the Household before deserting to Bolingbroke. Both men were influential in Hotspur’s life. His father, to all appearances, was autocratic and kept young Hotspur under his thumb for much of his son’s adult life. Chafing under his father’s harsh authority could have been one of the reasons Hotspur broke away on occasion and made his own decisions—often with disastrous results. His uncle Thomas was more puzzling; his decision to rebel against Henry IV at Shrewsbury has never been satisfactorily explained. Even the king was caught by surprise, so successful were his pursuits up to that point. Apparently Thomas was a family man first and foremost and supported Hotspur to the end, even as Earl Henry mysteriously failed to show up at the fatal battle of Shrewsbury. In the end, Hotspur was defined by the predatory age he lived in, “Cradled in war, and trained in all respects to deal with local border raiding, his main obligation was to hold by force that which his ancestors had previously won.” It is a fascinating story about a character out of legend.

I always knew of the Beauforts as John of Gaunt’s illegitimate children by Katherine Swynford, and I knew about Margaret Beaufort, mother of Henry Tudor, but everything that happened in between was kind of fuzzy to me. Luckily, Nathen Amin shines a light on this deserving dynasty. This book covers three generations (and a little more) of Beauforts, each with its own superstars to keep the family in the forefront of politics. Much of the action takes place in France during the 100 years’ war, for our Beauforts produce a few spectacular commanders—though a few bumblers also slip through. It seems that each generation gets a little watered down, until by Henry VI’s time they do more harm than good, managing to extinguish themselves in the male line. But for a while, they shine very brightly indeed. They came into their own after Henry IV became king, and throughout the Beauforts knew that their fortune—and future—were linked to the crown:

“By 1403 the Beauforts had unquestionably established themselves as a core part of Henry IV’s inner circle, devoted to his cause as the king struggled to maintain control of his crown. Henry recognized the necessity of ensuring his half-brothers were satisfied in their positions, while the Beauforts acknowledged those same positions were only held courtesy of the king’s good grace. It was to the mutual benefit of both parties that this relationship remained in place for the foreseeable future.”

And indeed it remained in place for decades, notwithstanding a few slip-ups during the complicated Wars of the Roses. Their hold over young Henry VI was absolute for much of his minority, though at the same time it was a Beaufort that nearly lost France for England. They were good at landing on their feet, however. The steadying influence (as well as bountiful financial contributions) of Cardinal Henry Beaufort—from the first generation—kept the family in power and the crown afloat until he died in 1447 (by then, Henry VI was 26 years old). The cardinal wasn’t always appreciated, but his unfailing dedication to the “cause” kept his enemies at bay.

Alas, as usual the Beauforts were not very creative at naming their children, and the plethora of Johns, Henrys, Thomases, and Edmunds were mind-numbing. We were given one very simple family tree at the beginning, but it was not enough—especially since their titles were passed on as well, and not necessarily father to son. And of course, the generations overlapped, so it was hard to remember who was the brother of King Henry and who was the nephew. I made my own cheat sheet but by the Wars of the Roses I gave up trying to keep everyone straight. Also, to keep the page numbers down, the font was incredibly small and it was hard to read for my middle-aged eyes (not the author’s fault, I understand). There was a tremendous amount of information in this book and I tip my hat to Nathen for taking on such a project. I admit I found it a struggle to get through all the way to the end. This is not the kind of book you will read for entertainment, but as a resource it is invaluable.