to
have
been
totally
faithful
to
his
wife
Mary
Bohun,
daughter
of
the Earl
of
Hereford
and
Essex,
who
had
died
in
1394
while
bearing
him his
sixth
child.
At
the
time
of
Henry's
accession,
there
was
no
doubt
of
his
popularity throughout
the
country,
the
vast
majority
of
his
subjects
ri
ghtly
believing that
he
had
seized
the
throne
only
because
his
predecessor
had
shown himself
incapable
of
government.
His
position,
however,
was
still dangerously
weak.
Under
Richard,
the
prestige
of
the
monarchy
might have
sunk
lower
than
at
any
time
since
Edward
II
-
perhaps
since
the Norman
Conquest
-
but
Richard
remained
the
rightful
King.
Henry was
a
usurper,
who
had
broken
not
only
his
vows
of
fealty
but
very probably
another
more
recent
oath
as
well.
In
recent
years,
too,
Parliament
had
had
a
chance
to
flex
its
muscles,
and
had
developed
something of
a
taste
for
power.
It
held
the
purse-strings,
and
was
determined
that the
King
should
not
be
allowed
to
forget
it.
Parliament
apart,
the
worst
troubles
of
the
first
years
of
Henry's
reign came
from
beyond
his
borders.
The
problem
of
France
he
had
already foreseen.
Charles
VI
could
not
be
expected
to
countenance
the
deposition,
and
quite
possibly
the
murder,
of
his
own
son-in-law;
and
his
temper could
hardly
have
been
improved
when
Henry
sent
emissaries
to
him only
a
month
after
his
coronation
suggesting
that
Queen
Isabelle
might now
make
an
excellent
wife
for
the
young
Prince
of
Wales.
Hardly
had this
ill-fated
mission
returned
when
the
Scots,
taking
advantage
of
the absence
in
London
of
the
Percys
and
the
Earl
of
Westmorland,
crossed
the border
and
captured
Wark
Castle
in
Northumberland,
doing
extensive damage
and
holding
to
ransom
its
keeper,
his
family
and
his
household. In
August
1400
a
vengeful
Henry
led
a
small
force
into
Scotland
, deliberately
ignoring
all
Scottish
attempts
at
a
peaceful
settl
ement
and calling
upon
the
King,
Robert
III,
to
do
homage
to
him
at
Edinburgh
on the
23rd.
Robert
refused,
and
when
Henry
reached
Edinburgh
it
was
to find
the
city
gates
closed
against
him.
The
Duke
of
Rothesay,
commander of
the
garrison,
offered
Battle
with
a
li
mited
number
of
knights
on
each side,
to
avoid
the
unnecessary
shedding
of
Christian
blood;
but
this
the King
rejected
out
of
hand.
Before
the
end
of
the
month
he
and
his
men were
back
in
England,
having
achieved
nothing
but
a
vague
promise
that his
claim
to
overlordship
would
be
considered.
Not
only
did
he
himself never
invade
Scotland
again;
it
was
the
last
time
in
history
that
an English
king
crossed
the
border
at
the
head
of
an
army.
Henry
had
got
no
further
than
Northampton
when
he
heard
of
a
rising in
Wales.
It
stemmed
from
a
long-standing
quarrel
between
Lord
Grey of
Ruthyn,
one
of
the
King's
most
stalwart
supporters,
and
Owen
Glen-dower,
a
rich
and
influential
Welsh
landowner
whose
diligent
legal
studies at
Westminster
had
not
prevented
him
from
ravaging
the
border
lands along
the
Wye,
sacking
several
large
towns
and
terrorizing
the
inhabitants. As
the
word
spread,
many
Welshmen
resident
in
England,
including virtually
all
those
studying
at
Oxford
and
Cambridge,
returned
to
their homeland
-
a
clear
indication
that
additional
forces
were
being
recruited. On
19
September
the
King
summoned
the
levies
of
ten
shires
and
marched by
way
of
Coventry
and
Lichfield
into
Shropshire,
but
the
invaders
took to
the
woods
and
forests
and
escaped
him.
The
Welsh
expedition
ended after
less
than
a
month,
as
ingloriously
as
the
Scottish
had
done.
In
the following
year
a
Statute
for
Wales
laid
down
-
among
several
other
provisions
-
that
all
lords
with
castles
there
would
forfeit
them
if
they
were not
properly
kept,
and
that
certain
offices
in
North
Wales
were
to
be
held by
Englishmen
only;
but
on
Good
Friday
1401
a
party
of
Welshmen seized
Conway
Castle.
Glendower's
rising
had
begun
in
earnest.
If
the
operations
in
Scotland
and
Wales
had
been
intended
to
increase the
royal
prestige,
they
had
failed
-
though
they
may
have
taught
Henry a
lesson.
He
was
back
in
London
to
receive,
four
days
before
Christmas, an
outstandingly
distinguished
visitor:
Manuel
Palaeologus,
Emperor of
Byzantium,
who
had
spent
the
past
two
months
at
Calais
awaiting the
King's
return
from
the
north.
Henry
met
him
at
Blackheath,
rode beside
him
into
the
capital,
and
entertained
him
on
Christmas
Day
to a
splendid
banquet
at
Eltham.
Though
he
was
powerless
to
grant
the Emperor's
appeal
for
military
aid
against
the
encroaching
Turks,
he somehow
contrived
to
find
3,000
marks
to
contribute
to
the
Christian cause
before
bidding
his
guest
farewell.