Henry V – national hero?

King for less than 10 years, Henry V has still made a mark on English history. Regarded as somewhat riotous in his youth, then morphing into a brave soldier and national hero after the battle of Agincourt, his bad side was glossed over. His reputation, as that of a similarly short-reigned Richard I, is disproportionate to his achievements. Based on a portrayal by Shakespeare, a brilliant dramatist but poor historian, this character wrongly gets a free pass.

Henry was born in 1386. He became king in 1413 on the death of his father Henry IV, who as Bolingbroke, had earlier invaded England from France to oust his cousin King Richard II. There was something of the usurper about Henry IV seizing the throne, and therefore of his son’s legitimacy, but then that applies to most of England’s royal families since 1066. History shows us that rulers who clearly feel threatened by their doubtful title and questionable rights are inclined to double down on anything that justifies themselves and their role. Henry V, the personification of self-righteousness, was no exception.

Priestly king

The first of several myths is Henry’s laddish, even loutish, teenage behaviour. In his younger years he actually played the holy card, spending hours at prayer. He had his hair cut in a monkish style and vowed chastity and thrift. It was rather like having a priest for a king in waiting. Indeed French ambassadors said he looked rather priestly. To further his search for the appearance of sanctity he adopted the imagery of St George. Always at confession, he was more of a creeping Jesus than the young reprobate he was painted.

So why the stories? The English propagandists needed evidence of divine approval when the war with France picked up again. They wanted God on their side. And there’s something of the biblical tale of the Prodigal Son about Henry being a reformed tearaway. As his father’s health became weaker, young Henry joined the Council as regent. There he moved to change some aspects of domestic policy. But when the king' health partially recovered, he promptly reversed the changes, removing his son from the Council. They quarrelled over political and financial matters, not youthful indiscretions. Far from touching forgiveness from the king, the deathbed scene was the familiar one of plotting factions. The excluded prince entered his father’s presence armed and with an escort of heavies. 

As king, the 26 year old Henry was so obsessed with security that he repudiated inconvenient old friends. He had turned on his comrades and advisers Harry and Thomas Percy in 1403 at the battle of Shrewsbury. He later ditched his former tutor and friend Henry Beaufort. His propaganda sold this as virtuous behaviour - it showed the king was not corrupt and would punish favourites if required.

Ian Mortimer points out that the worst case was that of his former friend, the Lollard Sir John Oldcastle. Sir John had earlier helped Henry as a battlefield aide de camp. He was generally regarded as a harmless old man but the new king had him burned to death for heresy. Lollard teaching was that kings needed to earn their authority by being good. This was deemed subversive so Henry sacrificed him, a move presented as noble and as a trial of his own faith.

Harfleur and Agincourt

By 1415 Henry felt he had domestic affairs under control and re-asserted Edward III’s claim to the throne of France. Politically, a true king of England was virtually obliged to pretend to the French crown. In August he set sail for Normandy and besieged the port of Harfleur. It fell in September. Then Henry, despite warnings from his advisers, marched his force across northern France. In October the French army intercepted him at Agincourt, where his heavily outnumbered group of tired and sick men won a famous victory. It had rained overnight, and funnelled (or kettled as we might now say) between two wooded areas, the French cavalry and men at arms got horribly stuck in the mud, falling on and crushing each other. It was a slaughter but Henry still managed to massacre 3000 prisoners for good measure, entirely against all conventions of the time.

Battle of Agincourt 1415

Agincourt may have been a lucky victory but over the next few years Henry doubled up, attacking many parts of France in alliance with factions of a badly divided country. He recovered Normandy and ravished much of the province, though with resources clearly overstretched he couldn’t really hold territory. Instead the areas involved suffered depredations and disease. Henry successfully burnished his war criminal credentials. During the Rouen siege he let hundreds of women and children who had left the town die of cold and starvation.

French crown

Wedding of Henry V and Catherine de Valois

Henry demanded a promise of the reversion of the French throne and forced Charles VI to name him as legitimate heir. In 1420 he married the young princess Catherine de Valois (later the grandmother of Henry VII) to seal it. Yet having fathered a son, who was to become King Henry VI, Henry neglected and ignored his bride. Still, it briefly seemed that England and France might be united under one crown. But Henry never actually became king of France. He died of dysentery in 1422, aged 35, at Vincennes, two months before Charles VI.

The absurdly heroic stories of Henry V and his reign are a problem we still wrestle with. On top of the Shakespeare version is the image portrayed in popular culture, and generally taught to school pupils over the years. It's wrong not only because it's fundamentally untrue. It also embodies two contradictory ideas, the country as a victim of powerful continental forces doing it down, and at the same time as the plucky warrior punching above its weight. Henry seems to serve this narrative. 

Historian Felipe Fernandez-Armesto witheringly, but fairly, sums him up: “Henry V, in English myth, is the ideal Englishman: plucky and persevering, austere and audacious, cool-headed, stiff-lipped and effortlessly superior: ‘simply the greatest man’, as my generation of undergraduates learned, ‘ever to rule England’. Elizabethan dramatists boosted the image...The myth became more important than the man - just as well for those who like their past to be comforting or inspiring. The reality, stripped out of the myth, is vicious and dispiriting”.