William Shakespeare – Henry VI: Part One (1591)
Play – read via the marvellous Shakespeare app for the iPhone during August 2011
- 3 nods out of 5 -
Shakespeare this, Shakespeare that. The old Bard is so highly revered not even the Worm – ever the critical book reader – has so far fallen for his charm of prose. In the past two years the Worm has reviewed the 5 nodder that is Macbeth, mused over the merits of Julius Caesar (4 nods); while even his attacks upon the false and weak love of Romeo and Juliet was withstood (4 nods). Seemingly confirming Shakespeare as a gold standard of English literature.
Which is why the Worm turned to Henry VI: Part One. Amongst the bigger names of the Shakespeare canon, this one is comparative small fish; however, its appearance in the 1590s (along with Parts Two, Three and Richard III) secured the author’s weight as a man of presence and genius. Today it is known as one of his weaker works, with a dispute raging amongst who had a hand in writing what (a debate, the Worm assures you, left alone for Shakespearian scholars!). Perhaps the Bard would slip up under the Worm’s lens.
King Henry VI himself is something of a forgotten character, especially when stood aside other excelling monarchs of the past. He never had the conquering spirit of William, not the marrying zeal of Henry VIII, nor even the manly heart of Queen Elizabeth; Even the madness he displayed has been overshadowed by that of King George III. He was the son of Henry V – yes, he of Agincourt (‘too famous to live long! England ne’er lost a king of so much worth’) - and came to the throne as a minor. His reign was one of instability, leading to the upheaval that has become known as the War of the Roses: Henry was ejected once, regained his throne, only to be chucked in the Tower of London where he was left to die. An odd character to centralise on, but then, Shakespeare is known for the art of drama.
The three parts of the play stretch the entirety of Henry’s life; though, Part One concentrates on the young man, the loss of the French territory that his father had won, as well as the beginning rupture of the houses of York (the white Rose) and that of Lancaster (the red Rose). As is common with many of Shakespeare’s titular plays, the seeming central character has little action and less to say, as happens here with Henry upstaged by the likes of the vengeful Richard of York, Joan of Arc and the heroic Talbot.
On Henry V’s death he became ruler of both England and France. Talbot – ‘the Frenchmen’s only scourge’ is left in France to secure the throne for Henry, and all agree he is the best man for the job: ‘Upon no Christian soul but English Talbot. Lo, there thou stand’st, a breathing valiant man, Of an invincible unconquer’d spirit!’ The French, understandably, are reluctant to bow down and accept such a fact, and on the crowning of Henry VI they revolt under the new and inspired leadership of Joan of Pucelle (aka: Joan of Arc). Joan becomes the nemesis of the English forces, with Talbot marking her appearance in the play: ‘Where is my strength, my valour, and my force? Our English troops retire, I cannot stay them; A woman clad in armour chaseth them’.
The subplot running in the background is the gathering storm that will become the Wars of the Roses. Richard recovers his family title of Duke of York, and now bestowed with knowledge that it is his line of descent that is all the more valid than Henry’s, he starts causing a ruckus behind the scenes. The Duke of Warwick ominous predicts a riot:
‘And here I prophesy: this brawl today,
Grown to this faction in the Temple Garden,
Shall send between the Red Rose and the White
A thousand souls to death and deadly night’
The two antagonists of both clans – Richard of York and the Duke of Somerset – come to France to help Talbot in the war; however, due to both mistrusting the other, neither comes to Talbot’s help when he becomes overawed by the French forces. As Sir William Lucy reflects: ‘Thus while the vulture of sedition feeds in the bosom of such great commanders, Sleeping neglection doth betray to loss the conquest of our scarce-cold conqueror, That ever-living man of memory, Henry the Fifth. Whiles they each other cross, Lives, honours, lands and all, hurry to loss.’
Talbot’s final battle scene, standing alongside his son, John, is the fitting climax of the play. Both are the courage of an England that is now past, displaying valour and spirit. Talbot sends his son away to carry on the family name, to which John refuses, as he states if he was to run the family name would be worthless. As the French move in, Shakespeare wonderfully dialogues the scene in rhyming couplets:
TALBOT:
Shall all they mother’s hopes lie in one tomb?
JOHN:
Ay, rather than I’ll shame my mother’s womb.
…
TALBOT:
My age was never tainted with such shame.
JOHN
And shall my youth be guilty of such blame?
Both perish in battle and England is forced to recognise the growing power of France. But as Lucy concludes, it is ‘the fraud of England, not the force of France’ that wins the day.
Despite this fantastic climax, alongside more clever word play in the final act between the Duke of Suffolk and Margaret, the play itself is a rather confused affair. The first three acts flit between England and France, between the defence of Henry V’s conquered land and the conflict in the royal court. Richard of York may claim credit in burning Joan of Arc, but aside from that he does little else but bog down the plot. Shakespeare appears overwhelmed the amount of back-story he must plant, due to the impending battles and wars to come between the houses of York and Lancaster.
Of course, the Bard would continue on to cement his name and perfect such short-comings. And even with its slightly negative reviews down the centuries and its obvious imperfections, Henry VI: Part One remains an interesting play. It really does appear that Shakespeare is the gold standard of literature.
Read it here:
http://shakespeare.mit.edu/1henryiv/full.html
