Shakespeare's
History of Henry the Fourth -
there
was,
at
the
time
of its
first
publication
in
1597,
2
no
suggestion
of
its
being
a
First
Part
only -
opens
between
the
two
weddings,
some
time
during
the
summer
of 1402.
We
cannot
put
an
exact
date
on
it,
since
in
the
very
first
scene
the
King
simultaneously
receives
the
news
of
two
military
encounters which
were
in
fact
separated
by
nearly
three
months.
The
first
was
a skirmish
at
Pilleth
in
Radnorshire
on
22
June,
during
which
Glendower's men
had
captured
Edmund
Mortimer,
uncle
of
the
young
Earl
of March.
On
hearing
the
news,
Henry
had
decided
on
a
major
campaign to
put
down
the
Welsh
once
and
for
all;
and
he
now
summoned
three separate
armies
—
a
total,
it
was
said,
of
100,000
men
—
respectively
to Chester,
Shrewsbury
and
Hereford,
to
be
ready
to
march
on
27
August. He
himself
would
command
the
Shrewsbury
contingent.
Alas,
the expedition
was
no
more
successful
than
its
predecessors.
As
always,
the Welsh
refused
to
be
drawn
into
Battle
.
The
weather,
moreover,
was atrocious,
so
bad
that
it
was
popularly
attributed
to
magic
spells
cast
by the
Franciscan
friars,
who
had
never
forgiven
Henry
his
usurpation
of the
throne.
On
8
September
the
King's
tent
was
blown
down
during a
hail
storm:
his
lance
fell
on
him,
and
he
was
saved
only
by
the
armour which
-
we
may
be
surprised
to
read
—
he
was
wearing
as
he
slept. Three
weeks
later
he
was
back
in
England;
once
again,
he
had
achieved nothing.
The
second
encounter
was
the
Battle
which
Shakespeare
calls 'Holmedon'
-
better
known
to
us
as
Homildon
Hill.
It
was
fought on
14
September,
against
a
Scottish
army
under
Archibald,
fourth Earl
of
Douglas,
which
had
crossed
the
English
border
some
weeks before
and
had
penetrated
as
far
south
as
Durham,
plundering
and burning
crops.
On
its
return
journey
it
had
been
intercepted
by
the Percy
militia
under
Northumberland
and
his
son
Harry
Hotspur
and had
suffered
heavy
losses,
500
fugitives
from
the
field
being
drowned in
the
river
Tweed.
Douglas,
with
a
number
of
other
noble
Scots, was
taken
prisoner.
England
was
in
sore
need
of
a
victory;
yet
when the
news
was
brought
to
the
King
at
Daventry,
he
was
rather
less jubilant
than
might
have
been
expected.
He
was
beginning
to
see the
Percys,
if
not
yet
as
a
clanger,
at
least
as
an
increasing
irritation. Their
successes
against
the
Scots
stood
out
in
embarrassing
contrast with
his
own
continued
failures
in
Wales;
besides,
no
one
could
fail to
compare
the
valour
of
Hotspur
with
the
dissolute
life
of
his
own son
Henry:
O that it could be prov'd
That some night-tripping fairy had exchang'd
In cradle-clothes our children where they lay,
And calle
d mine Percy, his Plantagenet!
1
Peremptorily,
he
demanded
that
all
the
prisoners
should
be
sent
at
once to
London;
Hotspur
replied
that
he
would
send
all
but
one:
the
Earl
of Douglas
would
remain
in
the
north.
Just
fourteen
years
before,
in
1388, he
himself
had
been
captured
by
the
Scots
at
Otterburn
(Chevy
Chase) and
held
to
ransom;
revenge
to
him
must
have
been
particularly
sweet, and
Douglas
was
too
great
a
prize
to
let
out
of
his
hands.
For
Henry this
was
the
last
straw.
He
had,
as
he
well
knew,
no
legal
right
to
his claim:
by
the
law
of
arms
only
princes
of
the
blood
royal
needed
to
be surrendered
to
the
King.
2
But
Hotspur's
refusal
continued
to
rankle, and
led
indire
ctly
to
an
unpleasant
scene
during
the
Parliament
which met
the
following
October.
It
was
on
the
20th
of
the
month
that
the
Earl
of
Northumberland and
his
son
presented
themselves
before
the
King
and
Parliament
in
the White
Hall
at
Westminster,
accompanied
by
the
Earl
of
Fife
and
a number
of
other
prisoners
taken
at
Homildon
Hill.
Henry
treated
the captive
Scots
with
every
courtesy,
complimenting
the
Earl
on
his gallantry
and
entertaining
them
all
at
his
own
table
in
the
Painted Chamber;
but
he
could
not
forget
(or
forgive)
the
absence
of
Douglas, and
a
furious
argument
ensued
—
it
was
further
embittered
by
his
refusal to
allow
the
Percys
to
ransom
their
kinsman
Mortimer
3
-
ending
with