Shakespeare's Kings (52 page)
And so we come to one of the most dramatic scenes of the play, Act IV scene v, in which the Prince, watching alone by the bedside of his father, picks up the crown from the pillow, places it on his own head and leaves the chamber. The sick man suddenly awakes, sees that the crown has gone and summons his attendants. They find Hal in the adjoining room and bring him back; and this allows Shakespeare his second great reconciliation scene — the first was in
Part I,
III
.ii — in which the King first chastises his son:
Dost thou so hunger for mine empty chair
That thou wilt needs invest thee with my honours
Before thy hour be ripe?
1.
i
.e. sheriff.
2.
This point is debated at length in 'The "Dastardly Treachery" of Prince John
of Lancaster', by P. A. Jorgensen
(Publications of the Modern Language Association of
America,
Menasha, Wisconsin, Vol. lxxvi, Dec.
1961).
Henry, however, has his answer ready, and there is no suggestion that it is anything but sincere:
I spake unto this crown as having sense,
And thus upbraided it: The care on thee depending
Hath fed upon the body of my father;
Therefore thou best of gold art worst of gold' . . .
Accusing it, I put it on my head,
To try with it, as with an enemy
That had before my face murder'd my father,
The quarrel of a true inheritor.
His words have their effect. The King instantly accepts his explanation and gives his son
the very latest counsel
That ever I shall breathe.
For him, the crown still imposes its load of guilt, but this will be expiated by his death:
To thee it shall descend with better quiet, Better opinion, better confirmation, For all the soil of the achievement goes With me into the earth.
The story has a long pedigree, going back to recollections of the fourth Earl of Ormonde - on whom Henry V was to bestow a knighthood at Agincourt- and to the
Chroniques
of the near-contemporary Burgundian writer Enguerrand de Monstrelet, from whom it was adopted by the
1513
translator of Titus Livius, passing through him to Hall, Holinshed,
The Famous Victories
and Samuel Daniel. These two original sources -which are, so far as we know, unrelated - give to what would at first seem an obvious invention some claim to authenticity: Ormonde could quite possibly have heard something of the kind from Henry himself. But even if, like one of the King's more recent biographers,
1
we dismiss
1.
Harold F. Hutchison,
Henry V: A Biography,
London
1967.
the whole thing as 'magnificent fiction', we have to agree that 'during the last few years of the reign of Henry IV his eldest son must frequently have considered how the crown of England would fit him'.
By the beginning of Act V, Henry V is already King. Of its five scenes, the first and third are set in the house and orchard of Justice Shallow in Gloucestershire; the remaining three are concerned, first, with the meeting between the King and the Chief Justice, discussed above; second, with the arrest of Mistress Quickly and Doll Tearsheet; third, with Henry's rejection of Falstaff. Of these the last is by far the most crucial to the drama — the rights and wrongs of it have been argued, very probably, since the first performance - but it bears little relevance to this book. Where history is concerned, this last act serves one purpose only: to emphasize the all-important fact that the young King has put his disreputable past behind him, once and for all.
...
I survive
To mock the expectation of the world,
To frustrate prophecies, and to raze out
Rotten opinion, who hath writ me down
After my seeming. The tide of blood in me
Hath proudly flow'd in vanity till now.
Now doth it turn, and ebb back to the sea,
Where it shall mingle with the state of floods,
And flow henceforth in formal majesty.
Both his reconciliation with the Chief Justice and his treatment of Falstaff make this same point, in their two very different ways. Even the arrest of the two women indicates clearly enough that the old order has changed: for them as for their beloved Sir John, life will never be quite the same again.
[1413-1415]
exeter
.
...
And bids you, in the bowels of the Lord,
Deliver up the crown and to take mercy
On the poor souls for whom this hungry war
Opens his vasty jaws; and on your head
Turning the widows' tears, the orphans' cries,
The dead men's blood, the pining maidens' groans,
For husbands, fathers and betrothed lovers
That shall be swallowed in this controversy.
king henry v
With the doubtful exception of Richard the Lionheart, Henry V is the only King of England who is still generally perceived as a hero. Whether he deserved the title must be open to question. Much of his posthumous reputation, inevitably, he owes to Shakespeare; but the fact remains that, while still under thirty, he twice raised the largest and best-equipped expeditionary force that the country had ever seen, transported it to France - no mean achievement in itself - and on the first occasion, in one of the most celebrated battles in English history, led it to a magnificent victory over an army many times its own size. On the other hand, those invasions were planned and carried out on the basis of a claim which, however much he tried to persuade himself to the contrary, was without a shred of legal or moral justification; that battle - which, at the last moment, he did his utmost to avoid - marked the climax of a military adventure of almost criminal foolhardiness and irresponsibility; and the pitiless brutality which he showed after its conclusion was probably without parallel in English history.
Henry was, first and foremost, a soldier. At the age of only twelve he had accompanied Richard II on his second expedition to Ireland; later, after Richard's deposition and his father'
s seizure of the throne, he had
fought
valiantly
at
Shrewsbury
and
had
commanded
the
army
in
successive
campaigns
against
Owen
Glendower
in
Wales.
His
personal
courage was
never
questioned.
By
the
time
of
his
own
succession
at
the
age
of twenty-five
he
was
already
a
seasoned
general,
loved
and
trusted
by
his men,
possessing
a
thorough
knowledge
of
siegecraft,
highly
experienced both
in
pitched
Battle
s
and
guerrilla
warfare.
But
his
background
was not
exclusively
military:
his
appointments
as
Constable
of
Dover
and
as Warden
of
the
Cinque
Ports
had
taught
him
something
of
ships
and
the sea,
while
during
his
father's
long
and
incapacitating
illness
he
had
also had
plenty
of
opportunity
to
test
himself
as
a
statesman.
It
comes
as
no
surprise
to
us
to
learn
that
the
young
King
was
strong and
athletic
—
wearing
his
heavy
armour,
it
was
said,
as
if
it
were
a
light cloak
-
and
more
than
usually
good-looking:
several
of
those
who knew
him
well
have
left
physical
descriptions
of
him.
He
had,
we
read, thick
brown
hair,
and
eyes
of
much
the
same
colour;
his
complexion was
fresh
and
fair,
his
teeth
perfe
ctly
even
and
sparkling
white,
his
chin slightly
cleft.
A
good
deal
more
unexpected
is
what
we
know
of
his character,
at
least
as
it
was
after
his
accession.
Riotous
his
early
life
may have
been
-
stories
about
it
were
already
in
circulation
during
his lifetime
-
but
those
who
knew
him
only
after
his
accession
found
those stories
hard
to
believe.
When
he
inherited
the
crown,
he
put
away childish
things.
On
the
day
of
his
coronation
-
which
took
place
on Sunday
9
April
1413,
in
a
bli
nding
snowstorm
-
he
appeared
solemn and
unsmiling,
and
was
observed
to
eat
virtually
nothing
at
the
banquet which
followed
the
ceremony.
For
ever
afterwards
he
was
known
for his
piety,
which
was
exceptional
even
by
the
standards
of
the
time
and which
more
than
once
laid
him
open
to
charges
of
sanctimoniousness. It
may
be,
of
course,
that
his
father's
misdeeds
weighed
upon
his conscience;
this
might
account
for
his
early
reconstruction
and
completion
of
the
nave
of
Westminster
Abbey,
financed
—
like
so
much
else —
with
the
assistance
of
Richard
Whittington,
who
had
been
Mayor
of London
in
1397-8
and
in
1406,
and
was
to
hold
the
same
office
again in
1419.
It
might
also
go
some
way
to
explain
his
many
works
of
charity and
piety,
including
his
foundation
for
the
poor
at
St
Giles
Cripplegate in
London
and
his
establishment
at
Twickenham
in
Middlesex
of
a Brigittine
1
monastery
under
the
name
of
Syon
—
which
was
later,
1.
An order founded
c.
1346
by St Bridget of Sweden. A few of its houses still survive today
.
ironically
enough,
to
give
its
name
to
the
great
house
of
his
old
enemies, the
Northumberlands.
From
the
outset,
Henry
was
infinitely
more
popular
than
his
father —
a
fact
which
was
confirmed
at
his
first
parliament,
which
met
in
the Painted
Chamber
at
Westminster
on
15
May
1413
and
willingly
provided him
with
generous
allowances,
including
no
less
than
£10,000
which was
granted
specifically
for
the
upkeep
of
the
King's
'hostel,
chamber and
wardrobe'.
A
slightly
chillier
note
was
struck
when
it
called
for
the expulsion
from
the
realm
of
all
Welshmen
and
Irishmen;
but
even
the most
rabid
little
-Englanders
must
have
known
that
this
would
have been
virtually
impossible
to
achieve,
and
there
were
no
protests
when the
motion
was
conveniently
forgotten.
Perhaps
the
most
important
issue
that
the
King
had
to
face
before he
could
devote
all
his
energies
to
the
coming
struggle
with
France
was that
of
the
Lollards.
In
the
last
decade
of
the
fourteenth
century
their numbers
had
shown
a
dramatic
increase,
particularly
in
the
West Country
and
along
the
Welsh
borders,
where
their
leader
was
one
of the
closest
of
the
King's
former
comrades-in-arms,
Sir
John
Oldcastle.
1
In
Henry
IV's
day
Old
castle
-
presumably
because
of
his
splendid military
record
and,
later,
the
barony
of
Cobham
which
he
had
acquired through
his
second
wife
in
1409
-
had
largely
escaped
persecution;
but with
the
accession
of
the
new
King
a
wave
of
book-burning
had
been instigated
in
St
Paul's
churchyard,
and
one
of
the
most
dangerous
of the
offending
volumes
—
a
collection
of
short
but
subversive
tracts
-proved
to
be
his.
Summoned
peremptorily
to
Kennington
to
defend himself
before
the
King
and
*
almost
all
the
prelates
and
nobles
of England',
he
maintained
stoutl
y
that
although
the
volume
belonged
to him
he
had
not
even
read
it;
but
a
number
of
bishops,
headed
by Archbishop
Arundel
himself,
continued
to
insist
that
he
should
be forced
to
recant
or
take
the
consequences.
When
he
refused,
Henry undertook
to
discuss
the
matter
personally
with
his
old
friend,
but was
quite
unable
to
shake
him;
Old
castle
was
excommunicated
and imprisoned
in
the
Tower
pending
a
formal
inquiry.
