Ian Mortimer

Ian James Forrester Mortimer (born 1967) is a British historian and writer of historical fiction. He is best known for his book The Time Traveller's Guide to Medieval England. Quotes The Fears of Henry IV: The Life of England's Self-made King (2007) All quotes are from the hardcover first edition, published by Jonathan Cape 978-0-224-07300-4 Italics as in the book. Bold face added for emphasis. Square brackets are clarifications. All mentions of "Richard" refer to Richard II; all mentions of "Henry" refer to Henry IV. In the fifteenth century it was Henry’s grandfather, Edward III, who was regarded as the model for greatness: a man who took the war to France and Scotland and won, and who presided over peace at home for half a century. Henry IV was not deemed ‘great’ by his contemporaries for the simple reason that he failed to live up to this example. Introduction (p. 3) The question of whether or not Henry was a great king in the fifteenth century, or subsequently, is a distraction. A man’s character may be obscured as much by the acclamation of greatness as by neglect. Introduction (p. 3) This brings us to an important point about Henry. He was probably the nearest to an intellectual among all the medieval kings of England. Chapter 2, “All Courtesy from Heaven” (p. 45) Richard’s very character was being distorted by those around him. The pressure on him was immense: he had been given near-absolute power, educated to believe that the correct application of that power was to force everyone in his kingdom to obey, and told by parliament that his accession was as longed for as the coming of Christ. After such an education, it would have been a miracle if he had developed as a fair-minded, level-headed king.By 1382 it was already becoming apparent that Richard was very far from the glorious youthful leader that parliament and the rest of the country had hoped for at his coronation. Chapter 2, “All Courtesy from Heaven” (p. 48) The original reasons to doubt Richard’s fitness to rule – his unwise grants of lordships and lucrative offices, his lack of military leadership in the face of encroaching enemies and his lack of judgement in political and diplomatic affairs – all remained valid. He continued to advance his favourites and friends without regard for lordly or public opinion. Chapter 2, “All Courtesy from Heaven” (p. 55) Henry had every reason to be fearful of those around him, not just of the king. This was the most damaging aspect of Richard’s rule. With a mercurial, unstable and sometimes vicious king, the entire top rank of society was made to feel insecure. It was difficult to know whom to trust. Chapter 3, “The Summons of the Appellant’s Trumpet” (p. 76) If the Lords Appellant are viewed as a group, there is a little doubt that they used tyrannical methods to bring an end to Richard’s tyranny. Their definition of treason, like Richard’s own, bore no resemblance to the articles of the Statute of Treason drawn up by Edward III. Their processes were based largely on military strength, not the law. Their judgement was in places arbitrary and often prejudiced. Chapter 3, “The Summons of the Appellant’s Trumpet” (p. 78) By 1390 the Teutonic Knights were hardly crusaders at all; they were more like a militant Christian state in their own right, making alliances with their neighbors and fighting enemies of various faiths, including fellow Christians. Chapter 4, “Iron Wars” (p. 90) Whether he paid any attention to the blue-green waters of the lake as he struggled toward the snow-capped mountains in the distance is open to doubt. For men of his day, the beauties of nature were not a great attraction. Surrounded by unspoilt countryside and greenery all the time, it was great buildings which especially excited the fourteenth-century traveller. For Henry and his men, they had the towns and churches of Italy ahead of them, which they were looking forward to seeing far more than the steep slopes of the Alps in the bitter cold. Chapter 5, “As Far as to the Sepulcher of Christ” (p. 108) It is not surprising that Lucia Visconti fell for him [Henry IV]. Considering his crusading, his pilgrimage and his jousting, it is not going too far to say that he had made himself into an exemplary knight, combining the spiritual and chivalric values of his age more completely perhaps than any other Englishman of the late fourteenth century. Chapter 5, “As Far as to the Sepulcher of Christ” (p. 115) And so it went on. Every year, those in favor with Richard receive lucrative grants, honours and positions of responsibility. And what did Henry receive in these years? Nothing….And what had Henry done to deserve being ignored? He had won fame, gone on crusade, sired sons, visited Jerusalem, and proved himself pre-eminent as a tournament fighter. Each of these was a significant achievement in the chivalric world of 1394 and each one marked another of Richard’s failings. Looking at the situation from Henry’s point of view, we can only see Richard’s behaviour towards him as being driven by jealousy and characterised by spite. Chapter 6, “Curst Melancholy” (p. 125; ellipsis represents elision of a brief list of examples) Historians have argued for many years over whether Richard went mad in 1397. In the mid-twentieth century it was thought that he had indeed lost his mind, and the death of Queen Anne was identified as one of the catalysts. But really this is a modern myth: there is no evidence of madness in the king, just an ever-increasing tendency to rule his subjects through the medium of terror. Chapter 7, “By Envy’s Hand and Murder’s Bloody Axe” (p. 136) Modern scholars now see Richard as essentially narcissistic, convinced of his own perfection, and yet deeply insecure. We might elaborate on this slightly and see that he was exceptionally self-conscious: so much so that his own identity, royal percentage, ideas, rivalries and feelings formed not only the core but the limit of his entire world. Chapter 7, “By Envy’s Hand and Murder’s Bloody Axe” (p. 136) While we may have some sympathy for Richard, his psychological problems had a disastrous effect on the political situation in England. Chapter 7, “By Envy’s Hand and Murder’s Bloody Axe” (p. 137) Such a mercurial ruler could hardly be an inspiration to his people. Wise men do not follow leaders whom they suspect might later reproach them for their loyalty. Chapter 7, “By Envy’s Hand and Murder’s Bloody Axe” (p. 137) The king was purposefully creating the maximum amount of fear. In Richard’s mind, the fear of his subjects equated to his own sense of power. Chapter 7, “By Envy’s Hand and Murder’s Bloody Axe” (p. 141) The entire French royal family joined with Henry in attending a Mass to pray for his father’s soul. They pitied him, but they could hardly have comforted him. Their real interests lay in supporting Richard, the rightful king, whose queen was the daughter of the king of France. Justice had to take second place to political expediency. Chapter 8, “The Breath of Kings” (p. 163) And therein lies the explanation of 1399, one of the most momentous years in English history. Richard personally hated Henry.…Reflecting on their lives from their first meeting, it is obvious that their characters were totally conflicting: Henry was so dutiful, almost ploddingly obedient to his father, Richard so mercurial. Henry was so logical and self-disciplined, Richard so flighty. Henry was so physically confident, Richard so insecure, needing to cocoon himself within his royal self-righteousness. But beyond these reflections, we have to suspect that the very root of Richard’s active hatred (as opposed to passive dislike) was his own fear. He was afraid of Henry as the hero of the joust. He was afraid of his confidence, his affable nature, his logical mind and his strength. And he was afraid of his royalty, and the prophecies concerning the two of them. Chapter 8, “The Breath of Kings” (p. 164; ellipsis represents elision of two sentences of quotes from contemporary chronicles) Prophecies were searched out in old chronicles and reinterpreted to show that it was God’s will that Henry should put an end to Richard’s rule. He was universally regarded as the champion of the Church and the people, a rescuer of good government and a promise of better times to come.Yet Henry’s position was far from safe. He had not faced the king, and thus the kingdom had not yet had to choose between the good government he promised and the legitimate government represented by Richard….Which path would the kingdom choose: tyranny in the name of loyalty? Or treason in the name of justice? Chapter 9, “The Virtue of Necessity” (p. 177; ellipsis represents elision of a brief section for the sake of continuity) The bureaucracy which had stopped functioning since 9 August [1399] started slowly to regain its usual efficiency. The civil servants knew who and where their king was, and they knew in whom sovereign power lay. That these two facts were not embodied in the same man was not essential for them to do their work. Chapter 9, “The Virtue of Necessity” (p. 181) A man who grows up believing he is the heir to the throne is unlikely ever to be able to let go of such an idea. Chapter 9, “The Virtue of Necessity” (pp. 182-183) The language of the charges against Richard is certainly legalistic but the message overall was clearly Henry’s. On many matters of justice, Richard had acted in a selfish and arbitrary way, like a spoilt child. After thirty-three counts of tyranny, perjury, misappropriation of funds, murder, harassment, maintenance, toleration of violence and rape committed by his Cheshire archers, deception, dishonesty, theft, wrongful imprisonment (contrary to the terms of Magna Carta) and the removal from office and exile of the archbishop of Canterbury without trial – nearly all of which are supported by damning evidence extant today – there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that the man they were removing was one of the worst rulers England had ever known. Chapter 9, “The Virtue of Necessity” (p. 190) The most important element of Henry’s kingship was his intention to end his cousin’s experiment in autocratic rule. Chapter 10, “High Sparks of Honour” (p. 196) These elements of Henry’s kingship – the determination to rule in conjunction with the great men of the realm, taxation only in wartime, religious orthodoxy, and the establishment of a chivalric order – are all reminiscent of Edward III’s kingship. Even the language in which he made his speeches – English – harks back to Edward III’s use of English to stir up nationalist sentiment. These parallels between Henry in October 1399 and Edward III are not a coincidence. By 1399, Edward III’s reign had come to be seen as a golden age, being peaceful at home and glorious abroad: everything which Richard II’s reign was not. Chapter 10, “High Sparks of Honour” (p. 197) Justice was a much more complicated issue. Many people at that parliament wanted Richard to be put to death. Many more wanted those who had benefited from his reign to be punished as traitors. Part of the problem was that the very concept of treason had been greatly enlarged by Richard to encompass anyone who dared disagree with him: in Richard’s own words ‘he is a child of death who offends the king’. Chapter 10, “High Sparks of Honour” (p. 199) Most historians rely on timing and motive in deciding whether Henry was guilty of murder or not. This is unfortunate, for motive is not the same as evidence, and to pretend it is is to risk introducing modern prejudices into a historical argument. Chapter 11, “A Deed Chronicled in Hell” (p. 211) Thus there were good political reasons why Henry should not have killed Richard. This is not to say that he did not give the order, only to remind us that one cannot judge innocence or guilt on the strength of motive alone. Chapter 11, “A Deed Chronicled in Hell” (p. 211) This is how Henry could have convinced himself that he was innocent of the murder in the eyes of God. Others had ‘executed’ him, his death being a consequence of the plot to free him. Thus Henry was able to deny his guilt by refusing to accept personal responsibility for what had been a political act carried out for the security of the kingdom. Politicians in all ages have felt similarly inclined to draw a line between public expediency and personal conscience. Chapter 13, “Uneasy Lies the Head” (p. 259) ‘Necessitas non habet legem’ (‘necessity has no law’) he wrote in his own hand on the letter. The phrase sums up Henry’s kingship: neither legally correct, nor wholly lawful, but done anyway, because the safety of the nation is more important than the law. Chapter 14, “A Bloody Field in Shrewsbury” (p. 277) A kiss is a fleeting thing, but once it has taken place it cannot be undone. Chapter 19, “That I and Greatness were Compelled to Kiss” (p. 353) That he did not go on to be a great king does not detract from the courage, initiative and consideration of his actions in 1399. There is almost no sense in which his reign can be considered great; it was dogged by financial problems and rebellion, so that defeating or outlasting all his enemies is his sole claim to greatness as a ruler. But in terms of his stature as a man, those judgements do not apply. His rule may have been characterised by crisis and opposition, but he was one of the most courageous, conscientious, personally committed and energetic men ever to rule England. It is unfortunate that he has historically been judged solely as a king and not as a man. Chapter 19, “That I and Greatness were Compelled to Kiss” (p. 353) Knowing that he had no respect for opponents who held high office in the Church allows us to contextualise his piety and see a direct link between his God and himself, thereby largely circumventing the role of the clergy. His attitude towards the prelates he executed was that they deserved no special treatment if they stood in the way of God’s will that Henry should rule England. Hence the apparent contradiction of a pious king who executed an archbishop is explained, and a much fuller picture of his religious conscience obtained. Chapter 19, “That I and Greatness were Compelled to Kiss” (p. 354) Very clearly, Henry cared more for God than for the Church, and more for the Church than for some of the men who exercised office within it. Chapter 19, “That I and Greatness were Compelled to Kiss” (p. 354) Most of all, he wanted so much to be a good king – attempting to please everyone all the time – that he inevitably displeased some. Chapter 19, “That I and Greatness were Compelled to Kiss” (p. 357) In the 1407 parliament Thomas Arundel listed the reasons why he thought the people should ‘honour the king’: because Henry had preserved the liberties of towns and religious institutions; because he had showed himself unstinting in his efforts to defend the realm; and because he had showed mercy to his adversaries. All of these were matters of maintaining the status quo; nothing here was a new development. This points to the very success of his conservative policy. If the revolution is to be wholly successful, all the counter-revolutions must be defeated. That Henry did so while showing mercy and preserving existing liberties is to his credit. Chapter 19, “That I and Greatness were Compelled to Kiss” (p. 361) Both sides of the parliamentary lobby thus gained from the reign. That is hardly surprising, but if Henry can be credited with these developments it is only on account of his successful management of change. As stated at the outset, most of the developments in parliament were in spite of his involvement, not because of it. Chapter 19, “That I and Greatness were Compelled to Kiss” (p. 362) Few men confront the basic tenets of the society in which they live and try to change them. Very few of those are successful. And even fewer survive to reflect on their success. Henry IV was one of these very few. Chapter 19, “That I and Greatness were Compelled to Kiss” (p. 363) The key problem in assessing the scale of the battle is this tendency of chroniclers to exaggerate numbers. Armies are enlarged to biblical proportions as well-educated, cloistered writers wrote their dramatic accounts in the only language of battle they knew: a mixture of Old Testament stories, classical history and earlier chronicles. In general, unless they could talk up a skirmish to sound like the great battles of the past, it would hardly merit inclusion in a book. Appendix 4, “Casualties at the Battle of Shrewsbury” (p. 373) The Time Traveler's Guide to Medieval England (2008) All quotes are from the hardcover American edition, published by Simon & Schuster (Touchstone), 978-1-4391-1289-2, 2nd printing Italics as in the book. Bold face added for emphasis. We should always remember that what we have in common with the past is just as important, real, and as essential to our lives as those things which make us different. Introduction, “Welcome to Medieval England” (p. 5) Medieval society thinks of itself like this: there are three sections of society, or “estates,” created by God—those who fight, those who pray, and those who work the land. The aristocracy are “those who fight.” They protect “those who pray” and “those who work.” The clergy do the praying and intercede on behalf of the souls of the fighters and the workers. “Those who work” feed the aristocracy and the clergy through the payment of service, rents, and tithes. In this way each group contributes to the welfare of society as a whole.It is a neat concept and particularly attractive to those doing the fighting and praying, who use it to justify the gross inequalities in society. But it is a concept that has been increasingly outdated since the twelfth century. Chapter 2, “The People” (p. 39) Unlike men, women or not usually described by what they do but by their marital condition. Thus the medieval mind tends to categorize women as follows: maidens, wives, nuns, and widows. Chapter 2, “The People” (p. 54) To what extent is character a result of education? In the Middle Ages it is arguable that the answer is not very much. Alternatively, you could turn the question around and say the opposite. The shortcomings of medieval education have a profound effect on the people. Chapter 3, “The Medieval Character” (p. 67) The lack of distinction between fact and fiction with regard to distant countries is understandable, but it should alert you to a wider failure to distinguish between the real and the fabulous. At times it seems that medieval people pride themselves on the quantity of their knowledge, not its quality or correctness. Well-educated and intelligent individuals are fully aware of the shortcomings of this attitude. Chapter 3, “The Medieval Character” (p. 74) The word which best sums up the medieval attitude to the Devil, miracles, and everything in between is “superstition.” People do not understand the laws of physics, the nature of matter, or even how the human body functions. Hence they do not see limitations on how the world operates. Their sense of normality is thus somewhat precarious. Anything can happen. In their minds, sorcery really does work, and all sorts of supernatural forces are suspected to have dreadful power. Chapter 3, “The Medieval Character” (p. 75) In medieval society, what you wear denotes what you are. Chapter 5, “What to Wear” (p. 103) Convenience, you will soon realize, is not something to which aristocrats aspire. The more impractical the clothing, the higher the status of the wearer. Chapter 5, “What to Wear” (p. 107) Not wearing something is also a way of making a fashion statement. Chapter 5, “What to Wear” (p. 115) The modern traveler coming from an age of good food guides and supermarkets is liable to forget that people in medieval England still starve to death. Chapter 8, “What to Eat and Drink” (p. 167) It has to be said: the prime reason to avoid medieval England is not the violence, the bad humor, the poor roads, the inequality of the class system, the approach to religion and heresy, or the extreme sexism. It is the sickness. Chapter 9, “Health and Hygiene” (p. 190) One is tempted to be cynical. In fact, in this case, one cannot help but be cynical. Following the first procedure, 50 percent of his patients are doomed. Following the second, perhaps all of them. Given such diagnostic skills, the absence of physicians across much of England is not wholly unfortunate. Chapter 9, “Health and Hygiene” (p. 193; the first case here is deciding whether the patient will live or die depending on whether the number of letters in his name is even or odd; the second case is diagnosing impending death based on cinquefoil being boiled in water and the infusion turning red). These ideas about causes of illness and diagnosis might be astonishing but they reveal an important point. Medieval people are not ignorant, in the sense of having no knowledge. It is simply that their knowledge is very different from our own. They probably have as much medical “knowledge” as we do, only it is based on astrology, herbology, religion, a little direct experience, philosophy, fundamental misconceptions about how the body works, a lot of hearsay, and a large measure of desperation. Chapter 9, “Health and Hygiene” (p. 193) It starkly reveals the limits of both professional and amateur medical assistance. No doctor of medicine can help the victims; no one can attend the dying with any feeling but revulsion and despair. It reveals the inadequacy of a concept of society based on the “three estates.” Frankly, if “those who pray” cannot protect the population, and “those who fight” simply run away, why should “those who work” feed them? Similarly, the plague forces men to reappraise the fundamental relationship between themselves and God. This horrific disease does not just affect the sinful; it kills the innocent too. If this is the work of God, then He is indiscriminate in his judgments. Chapter 9, “Health and Hygiene” (p. 202) So, as long as you can get enough to eat, and can avoid all the various lethal infections, the dangers of childbirth, lead poisoning, and the extreme violence, you should live a long time.All you have to worry about are the doctors. Chapter 9, “Health and Hygiene” (p. 210) Local justice is designed to find somebody guilty; it does not necessarily follow that that somebody is the person responsible for the crime in question. Chapter 10, “The Law” (p. 224) In medieval theater, it is not so much bad reviews which you need to fear but excommunication. Chapter 11, “What to Do” (p. 255) The jousts of war held in Scotland to differ from a proper battle in one important respect. Killing your opponent is part of the sport. Prizes are given out by heralds afterwards to those survivors who have performed well, so it clearly has the character of a sporting event. One cannot say the same for the joust of war held on March 27, 1351. On this occasion thirty English and Breton knights and esquires meet thirty French and Breton knights and Esquires in a great behourd. Nine of the thirty on the English side are killed. On this basis, jousts of war might be considered the only sport in history with odds worse than Russian roulette. However, an armed struggle in which men are trying to kill one another is normally called war. This behourd comes to be known as the battle of the Thirty. There is a very thin line between staging a joust of war for sport and the prosecution of an international armed conflict. Basically it comes down to handing out prizes for style. Chapter 11, “What to Do” (pp. 257-258) There lies an even more profound implication of the “living past.” What does it reveal about us individually and collectively in relation to time? This is perhaps the most interesting aspect of the whole concept. Through it we can see ourselves collectively living for hundreds of years, and in so doing we can see ourselves change. Cast your mind back to the different standards of hygiene and justice in the fourteenth century. If we look at these aspects of life and judge them as dirty and cruel, we are really only describing our own perceptions as viewed from the modern world. There is nothing wrong in doing this, it just is very present-centered. It says more about us now than it does about us in the fourteenth century (or any other age for that matter; the past is all dirty and cruel in the modern popular imagination, with the exception of the Romans, who are just cruel). Envoi (pp. 290-291) At the end of the day—at the end of the century—this is what history is. History is not just about the analysis of evidence, unrolling vellum documents or answering exam papers. It is not about judging the dead. It is about understanding the meaning of the past—to realize the whole evolving human story over centuries, not just our own lifetimes. Envoi (pp. 291-292) External links Ian Mortimer (historian) Category:Non-fiction authors from England Category:1967 births Category:Living people Category:Historians from England Category:Novelists from England Category:Historical novelists