Helen
Castor
What most people know of the origins of the English Wars of the Roses (if they know anything at all about it) comes through the history plays of Shakespeare; the feuding cousins Richard II and Henry IV and their battle over who would hold the throne is rightly considered some of the most compelling drama ever penned. But in the end it is just a version of events—what of the real story? Historian Helen Castor’s magisterial dual biography/history The Eagle and the Hart, proves that if anything, the real story may have been even more dramatic—and yes, tragic—than Shakespeare’s version. While centuries might have passed since the Wars of the Roses, the repercussions of Richard and Henry’s decisions shaped English politics well into the Stuart age, and in today’s political landscape, one could make the argument that they’re an even more pressing concern. At the crux of Castor’s work are the questions: When is it right to remove a legitimate, acknowledged ruler who has grown incompetent and tyrannical? And how can a bitterly divided nation heal itself?
Castor’s work reads like mirroring biographies. Two boys, cousins, are born within months of each other. One will inherit the throne, and the other is the heir to the second-most powerful man in the nation. Richard is only ten when he is crowned. Growing up the sole heir, he is cossetted and protected, raised to believe in his own God-given extra-ordinariness, and surrounded by few who do anything to challenge his narcissism—or prepare him for the throne. Henry Bolingbroke, as son of the powerful and intensely ambitious John of Gaunt, learns his duties of leadership from the vast lands he inherits, but most importantly he learns how it is absolutely imperative to support his king, Richard, against the machinations from within and without that threaten to destabilize the peace of England. The quandary comes when Richard and his advisors—a group of favorites hated by the ruling nobility for their upstart natures as much as their actions—attempt to consolidate power over the country through extralegal efforts, outright deception and even murder. In the minds of the fourteenth century English, removing Richard would be tantamount to overturning the whole of creation. And, truly? Would removing a tyrant in favor of a usurper simply be exchanging one evil for another?
Castor makes all the players in The Eagle and the Hart come alive. Chroniclers noted the events of the reigns in reasonable detail for the time, but Castor’s retelling gives the sense of being there when Richard faces down rebels during the Peasant Revolt, when Henry is banished to exile in a last minute trial by combat or even an outlandish kidnapping plot over two young royal heirs. Rather than just names in history, she makes the central players remarkably relatable—witness Richard’s suspect (to fourteenth century courtiers) interest in bathing, or a peevish Thomas of Woodstock sounding like every frustrated youngest sibling ever when he didn’t get as much land as his older brothers. While her writing makes the events feel immediate, Castor’s deep research is never in doubt—her extensive notes are almost as interesting as the main text. There’s also a complete list of major players and a family tree to make sense of this very tangled and fractious family.
While the book ends with the ascendancy of Henry V, Henry Bolingbroke’s son and he of ‘Prince Hal’ fame, it is clear that the ghost of Richard II isn’t likely to rest quietly. I’m curious as to whether Castor will continue the story into the fifteenth century with later Henrys and Richards—if she does, I’ll certainly be asking for a copy. The Eagle and the Hart is history of best sort, a definite recommendation for history readers and a must for English history fans. Shakespeare fans might also enjoy how history merges and diverges from the world of the plays.