Fortune Made His Sword

by Martha Rofheart

Henry V was a man whose charm and military genius - and concern for his subjects - made him one of the most popular kings in English history.

Set in the lusty and tumultuous fifteenth century, this superb novel traces the brilliant career of the all-conquering victor of Agincourt.

Among the last of the great medieval rulers and the first of the ardent nation builders, Henry V is seen from several perspectives: his queen; his beautiful Welsh mistress, Morgan; his court jester, the fool; a comrade-in-arms; and his own point of view as both boy and man.

They illuminate the many sides of Henry V's personality - the devil-may-care prince portrayed by Shakespeare, the bold hero of Agincourt, the husband of Katharine of Valois, and the warrior-peacemaker who welded England, Wales, and France into a single kingdom.

Martha Rofheart goes behind the textbook facade of history and tells the story of the real Henry, a man of fierce pride and strong passions, to discover how ‘Fortune Made His Sword’.

She describes how Henry won and lost the beautiful Morgan ab Owen and how he later found brief happiness in the arms of his young French Queen.

‘Fortune Made His Sword’ is a thrilling historical tale of adventure, endeavour and intrigue. It was originally published as ‘Cry “God for Harry”’.

Praise for Martha Rofheart:

‘A tale of drinking, wenching, hunting and fighting’ Evening News

‘Cause for celebration!’ Los Angeles Times

Martha Rofheart grew up in the Portland neighbourhood of Louisville, surrounded by a large Upper Middle Class extended family, which was spread out along Portland Avenue and nearby streets. Growing up she had several poems published in Louisville newspapers and magazines, and at age 10, she won a national one-act play contest. After moving to New York City, Martha became a model and actress. Martha made her Broadway debut in 1942, and was a well-known protégé. Soon after her son was born in 1957, she chose to be a full-time mother and, eventually, a writer. After Fortune Made His Sword, Martha Rofheart wrote five novels and many of her novels were translated into German, Dutch, Spanish, Italian and Serbian.

Genres: Historical Fiction, Fiction, Historical, Medieval, British Literature, Action, Plantagenet

433 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 1, 1972

About the author

Martha Jones Rofheart was an actress and a novelist, inspired by her grandfather's stories of their Welsh ancestors.

Reviews

[Anna · Rating 2 out of 5]

I'm not as clued up on Henry V as I am on other monarchs, so was looking forward to finding out more about him in this book. Narrated in turn by a young Harry, his first love, his father's fool, a solider at Agincourt, his wife Catherine of Valois and an older Harry just before his untimely death, it's the full story of his life, and although I glazed over at the battle scenes, I mostly enjoyed it even if it was quite dry in places.

However, I was really narked at the end of the book to discover in the author's notes that one of the narrators, Morgan - Harry's first love and the daughter of his Welsh foe Owen Glendower - was entirely made up. Why would you do that? Morgan was a major character in this and a huge part of Harry's life, so having her fictitious renders the whole thing pointless. I know this genre is an author's individual take on fact, tweaked by embellishments, omissions and half-truths to create a particular tale, but when it involves the complete invention of a main character, it's just wrong.

3 stars for the story, relegated to 2 for the made up Morgan.

[Deborah · Rating 1 out of 5]

The only good (and lucid) portions of this plotless, characterless, poorly written novel are the portions the author plagiarized from A.M. Maugham's Harry of Monmouth, John Cowper Powys's Owen Glendower, and H.F. Hutchinson's Henry the Fifth. The rest of it, the author's creation, is so bad it's almost funny: a character who has eyes "UNDER high cheekbones" is also able to ride a ways, relating the sad tale of an early love, while carrying an arrow through his upper arm. Another character, on the eve of Agincourt, listens to the king relating the sad tale of an early love. Other such choice moments abound. Save your time and read Harry of Monmouth and Owen Glendower -- they're light-years above this idiotic twaddle.

[Jessie · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read this book when I was about 12 years old and have re-read it many times. A fantastic historical fiction about the life of Henry V of England from his youth in Wales to his death. It is written in seperate segments from the perspective of different characters in the story. Such beautiful writing and characters, and it taught me about history as well. It is one of my top five books of all time, and from someone that reads a book about every 2-3 days, that is saying something.

[Tracy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Maybe 4.5. I love the way this was written. It is about the life of King Henry V from 6 different perspectives (himself as a boy, his first love, his father's fool, a soldier in his army, his wife, and himself again in his last years of life)-fascinating.

[Lisa · Rating 1 out of 5]

(Before I start this review, I should warn readers that because the book had to go there with Richard II, my review touches on the sexual abuse of children and those triggered by or sensitive to the discussion of this should skip over the paragraphs marked with **.)

Fortune Made His Sword is a 1972 novel by Martha Rofheart that tells the story of Henry V by dividing it into six “books” narrated by five different characters and tracing his life from childhood to death and an epilogue seven years after his death. These narrators are sometimes fictional (Morgan, bastard daughter of Owen Glendower and Henry’s lover) or heavily fictionalised (Sir Hercules, Henry IV’s fool and John Page, an English knight), and only two of them are drawn from any firm historical background (Henry V himself and his eventual wife, Katharine (or Catherine) of Valois.

This is an interesting approach, allowing for a variety of “lenses” to try to get to the heart of Henry V’s character – though, as the final lines suggest, he is ultimately unknowable. However, the approach has some drawbacks. It’s hard to get an overall cohesive narrative from these narrators, with each narrative being self-contained and you can also sense where a narrator’s story could keep going – Katharine’s, for instance, ends when Henry leaves her to return to France and does not cover their reunion, his death or (for all the foreshadowing) her romance with Owen Tudor – but has been cut off arbitrarily. On a similar note, Henry’s ends with a sense that we might be seeing his years as Prince of Wales, in Wales, but instead we move onto Morgan’s POV about living in Wales, the war with England going vaguely on in the background, while Sir Hercules’ narrative plants the seeds of Joanne of Navarre being accused of witchcraft but they never go anywhere apart from one sentence about Henry doubting the accusations against her.

Each “book” also begins with the narrator giving you their own backstory and sometimes it’s relatively lightly-done, but other times it can be heavy-going or bewildering and it’s frustrating to get so far and then be thrown back nearly twenty years so the next narrator can introduce themselves.

The characterisation of Henry V tends towards highly sympathetic and highly heroic. There are slight suggestions that he has been made cruel, but that’s largely glossed over or excused and the end result is that he’s a medieval dreamboat. There are some odd choices, too. Although Henry had no known mistresses or no illegitimate children, was said to have been chaste from his coronation to his marriage (in total, seven years) and had very strict prohibitions on women/prostitutes in his army’s camps, he is depicted as being oversexed, not just in his “wild youth”, having become famous for it at thirteen (yikes), but as king, even having a camp full of prostitutes set up to service his army and nicknamed “Whoring Harry” by his soldiers.

He is also depicted as being emotionally and physically abused by his father, so much so that by the time he’s eleven, he has scars from the whippings his father gave him and is desperate for the slightest bit of approval and affection. There is absolutely no evidence that Henry IV was physically abusive towards any of his sons and there is enough tension in their historical relationship that you don’t have to go there for conflict either. It is odd and downright disgusting, however, that with this characterisation of their relationship, Henry is harangued by Morgan (his fictional Welsh girlfriend who hates Henry’s father) about how he treats his father. Because, apparently, it’s a terrible, terrible thing when an abuse victim refuses to have anything to do with their abuser. Seriously. Go to hell for that one, Morgan and Rofheart.

Morgan is – well. I hesitate to call her a “Mary Sue” because it’s a loaded, gendered term that has multiple definitions, but it fits. She’s the type of heroine that steps out of a historical setting (15th century Wales) with the mindset of a progressive modern person, railing against their setting. She is perfectly plucky, a “truthteller” who never sees the repercussions for her actions/words, morally superior to everyone, a secret feminist, stunningly beautiful, quite tough, and universally beloved – even by Henry’s father, who really shouldn’t like her. She is Henry’s one true love, she alone can “tame” him and when she suddenly disappears, he goes off-the-rails crazy and starts torturing people to try and find her (it’s later revealed she ran away when she heard that her Welsh husband wasn’t actually dead, but didn’t think to leave or send a note until quite awhile later for some godforsaken dumb reason that’s never communicated to the reader).

(fun fact: there is no evidence Henry tortured his own household or even indeed had a Welsh mistress. Also, what the hell is the author thinking by having the medieval dreamboat torture his own people but glossing over it?)

This is the second novel about Henry V I’ve read that’s featured a fictional Welsh girlfriend that lectures him on his moral failings and is universally beloved, even by his abusive father. Is this some kind of contractual obligation?

Additionally, there is a whole… vibe to the treatment of Wales in this book – it’s a social utopia mixed with mystical, magical undertones – that feels fetishistic to me. But I’m not Welsh so I don’t feel qualified to rant about it. But it undoubtedly feels gross.

At least, Rofheart didn’t see fit to demonise Katharine of Valois for her sexuality and not being the fictional Welsh girlfriend, instead turning her lurid attention to Isabeau of Bavaria. But then, I suppose I should be fair and say that the “evil, deluded slut” reading of Isabeau has only recently been challenged. And I guess Katharine hooking up with Owen Tudor means she too has a fetish for Wales and likes Welshmen and therefore can’t be that bad.

The writing, on a technical scale, is decent. Each narrator has a distinct voice, and there’s not a lot that really feels wrong. The biggest things are the slang in John Page’s section – lots of “Frenchies” instead of French – and Morgan’s voice, which read initially as though it was written by an Agatha Christie style of plucky young heroine.

There are some cute scenes in Henry’s boyhood section, I enjoyed Mary de Bohun’s brief presence that moved away from “victim of the medieval patriarchy who is maritally raped to death” narrative that has become a cliché with her, although Rofheart basically implies that the shock of witnessing six-year-old Henry being struck by his father so hard enough that he fell to the ground pushed her into the labour that killed her. The march to Agincourt (as narrated by John Page) make for a harrowing read, only slightly ruined by the weird characterisation of the nobility around Henry (e.g. the Dukes of York and Gloucester, who are basically snobbish, ill-tempered, inconsiderate assholes to be the foil to Henry’s shining goodness).

In terms of historical accuracy, there are some goofs and somethings based on now-outdated information – for instance, Henry’s ages seem to suggest that Rofheart had opted for his birth occurring in 1387 instead of the now widely-accepted 1386 date, and Rofheart repeats the now-discredited narrative that Mary de Bohun’s firstborn child wasn’t Henry V but a short-lived son that was born in 1382 when she was still a child herself. The Agincourt battle felt confused and quite different from the historical accounts I’ve read – though that might be because my understanding of the battle is based off the work of modern historians such as Anne Curry and Juliet Barker.

There are some mistakes – for instance, Henry V is urged to keep himself off the battle-field by nobles citing the example of the Black Prince at Crecy who watched from a windmill. That was Edward III in the windmill, the Black Prince – then sixteen years old – was famously swamped in the frontline while his father (still in the windmill) refused to come to his aid. Henry V’s Shrewsbury wound is oddly handled – there is no arrow-head lodged in his skull or wound beneath his eye, but a glancing wound in his temple that festers and, when healed, leaves behind a neat scar like a “third eye” as opposed to the horrendous scar likely to have been left behind. The doctor or surgeon who cures him is Nicholas Colnet, rather than the innovative John Bradmore. I don’t understand how Rofheart gets it so wrong when Bradmore famously left behind an account of how he healed Henry, but maybe they hadn’t found/published it widely at the time.

Rofheart also misunderstands medieval culture. Henry, Lord Scrope was one of the conspirators who sought to depose (and likely murder) Henry in the 1415 Southampton Plot and, in his own defence, mentioned he had shared Henry’s bed. Rofheart treats it as a scandalous, salacious comment meant to embarrass or blackmail Henry into pardoning him, with Henry recalling it as a youthful indiscretion. In reality, Scrope was using the fact that they shared a bed to invoke the level of trust, love and friendship that previously existed between them as a reason for Henry to pardon him. Bed-sharing, in medieval culture, did not necessarily have sexual dimension and to act as though two men sharing a bed in the 15th century displays a fundamental misunderstanding of medieval culture.

(Please note: I am not saying that it is impossible for Scrope or Henry V to be queer and/or to have been lovers – that, honestly, would make more sense and been more welcome than the Welsh girlfriend – but that the fact that they shared a bed is not proof they were nor a scandal.)

** Rofheart’s depiction of Richard II made me extremely anxious. Although never explicitly stated (the best we get is Henry’s father asking Henry if he’s like Richard in a conversation about Henry’s slutty, slutty ways because he has no bastard children), it is clear that Rofheart intends us to read him as sexually interested in males… and not necessarily discerning about the age of his partners. I spent the first few chapters that Henry spends with Richard, in which Henry is constantly described as pretty and kissed full on the mouth (which was not a sexualised gesture in medieval times, but I doubt Rofheart knew that) by Richard, distinctly horrified and mostly convinced that Rofheart was going to go there and depict Richard as sexually abusing Henry. She doesn’t. But it is clear that this is not because her Richard is not sexually interested in young boys or would never hurt or molest a child, but that he sees Henry as a son-figure. So thanks for that. Yeah. Richard is a child abuser, but Henry’s safe from him so everything’s great. Jesus, please, please, please take the wheel.

** Needless to say, there is absolutely no evidence that Richard II had sex with underage partners, much less children, and the idea that an author would suggest so is beyond appalling and disgusting. But I rather suspect Rofheart’s treatment of his sexuality is less about the historical evidence and more to do with the homophobic idea that wanting to have sex with men means you’re also depraved enough to want to have sex with children. JFC.

Alas, I cannot finish this review without mentioning my biggest issue with the whole novel: the obsession Henry’s bodily functions. Why? For the love of god, why? Why did his boyhood section contain an overabundance of mentions of him peeing, vomiting and pooping and the overfull chamber pot and him soiling himself? It’s not graphically described – which is nice only in the case of “well, at least the book didn’t actively try to make me puke” sense – but just the sheer amount of mentions is incredibly off-putting. In terms of historical accuracy, there’s no call for it – there is no evidence that Henry V had chronic issues with his bowel or bladder, and while we know that he had some periods of illness as a child, there’s nothing to say what illness he suffered from. I thought it might be foreshadowing for his death from dysentery, but no, it’s just there. And while I braced myself for more mentions of bodily functions throughout the rest of the book, the only other named character who pees or poops is Katharine’s pet dog – though, to be fair, there are a couple of brief references to dysentery suffered by the troops at Meaux and Harfleur. In fact, I twice had begun to think Rofheart had moved past it only to reach a scene where Henry had to find the latrine before Agincourt or another scene wherein the dying Henry thinks about the colour of his urine. So it just starts to seem like Rofheart had a fetish for the bladder and bowel functions of Henry V and dear god I need brain bleach.

There are some strong points to this novel – the writing is technically rather decent, the approach is interesting though sometimes limiting – but there are some definite weaknesses and annoyances within the text. It may not be the worst novel about Henry V I’ve ever read, but damn it comes close.

[James Mcdougal · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ms. Rofheart did a wonderful job of making these historical (and some fictional) characters come to life.

[Deborah · Rating 1 out of 5]

The only good (and lucid) portions of this plotless, characterless, poorly written novel are the portions the author plagiarized from A.M. Maugham's Harry of Monmouth, John Cowper Powys's Owen Glendower, and H.F. Hutchinson's Henry the Fifth. The rest of it, the author's creation, is so bad it's almost funny: a character who has eyes "UNDER high cheekbones" is also able to ride a ways, relating the sad tale of an early love, while carrying an arrow through his upper arm. Another character, on the eve of Agincourt, listens to the king relating the sad tale of an early love. Other such choice moments abound. Save your time and read Harry of Monmouth and Owen Glendower -- they're light-years above this idiotic twaddle. And did the author..... really ... have ... to use all..... those ..... ellipses ...? ...

[Lin · Rating 2 out of 5]

I haven’t read many books about Henry V so was really looking forward to this book. The story is divided into 7 sections told by 5 different people. It started off very well, with Henry telling his story as a boy, then it moved onto Morgan (his sweetheart), his fool, a knight and eventually Katharine (his wife). Somehow after the first section the story became a lot of telling and very little showing. There was an effort to mimic ye olde English, but this did not come off very well. I was disappointed in the book which did not live up to its initial promise.

[Tanzanite · Rating 2 out of 5]

2.5 stars. Written in the early 1970’s, Rofheart makes use of multiple first person narrations to relate the events of Henry V’s life (a technique she also uses in her book about Richard I, Lionheart). A couple of her choices for narrators and the accompanying story they tell seemed to have little relevance to Henry, although the narration of one of the knights from Agincourt was rather interesting.

[Carol · Rating 3 out of 5]

This solid novel about Henry V follows Rofheart's standard procedure of having each section told from the point of view of a different character (in this book all but one are real people). She does a good job with this format, and matches time periods with narrators so as to achieve both a varied perspective and a unified vision of Henry V.

[Patrick O'Hannigan · Rating 4 out of 5]

The late Martha Rofheart does a fine job of adopting different character voices in this historical fiction about King Henry V of England, the warrior leader who won the Battle of Agincourt, where English bowmen routed French knights in October of 1415. If Henry V rings a bell of memory for you, it's probably because he later became the subject of one of Shakespeare's history plays.

In successive parts of the book, Rofheart writes convincingly as a princess, a court jester, a knight-at- arms, a queen, and as Henry (more commonly called Harry) himself. Along the way, she treats readers to well-informed character studies, perceptive looks at the politics of England, Wales, and France, and musings about the rise of the so-called "New Learning" that prefigured the Protestant Reformation.

[Marsha Valance · Rating 4 out of 5]

One of my favorite historical novels about King Henry V of England. Told from several viewpoints (the young Prince Hal, Morgan ab Owen Glendower, the king's fool Sir Hercules, an English knight, and Katherine of Valois), it follows Hal from boyhood to death, offering an unforgettable depiction of his life. Heroic, credible characters join with vividly realized medieval settings to create a truly splendid historical novel.

[James M Bayles · Rating 5 out of 5]

Interesting Historical Novel

I have now read two of Martha Rofheart's novels. Her method of seeing Richard Lionheart and then Henry V through different character's eyes is interesting. We gain different perspectives of the men and people of their times. It was a bit disconcerting in Richard Lionheart, but it was a great way to get to know a bit more about Henry V, his life and times.

I highly recommend both historical novels.

[Louise purfield-coak · Rating 5 out of 5]

Accessable History

This is history, told in an Accessable maner.It is narrated by five people who were close to King 👑Henry the 4th. The narrative is also told in spots,by Henry himself. Each narrator is in sequence of events as they happened in history.I would highly recommend this book to any student of English or Medeavil History.

[Norbert Ogutu · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book gave me a lot of insights into the monarchy at a point of transition and upheaval in Britain. I don't think it was an accurate representation though. The battle of Agincourt is well described, but I would have liked a bit more details into the sieges at Harfleur and Harlech Castle.

[Scott Dover · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read this book when I was 11 and found it fascinating!

[Melisende · Rating 2 out of 5]

The life of Henry V of England is retold from the downfall of his father, Henry IV, to his own death and the foretelling of the rise of the Tudors. It is told in four parts from the perspective of Henry V himself (as a young man); of the daughter of the Welsh rebel, Owain Glendowr; of Henry V's fool; and lastly of an English knight at the battle of Agincourt; Henry's wife, Catherine of Valois; and lastly by the wife of the Bard of Gower.

I was a little curious as to why there were so many narratives - I guess it was an attempt to provides different views of Henry as he developed from a young prince to the hero-king of English history.

Overall - it is what it is - a 1970s historical novel which tend to provide an idolised version of the subject matter.

[Tracey]

Wait, wait – this was originally published in 1972? Here I was thinking that the release had been timed to take advantage of the enthusiasm over The Hollow Crown – and instead it's, in a way, worse.

[Zen Cho · Rating 3 out of 5]

Quite sort of Hollywood historical and the author has a strange addiction to ellipses in dialogue, but the thees and thous could have been much more overdone and it was an entertaining read.

[Vikas Datta · Rating 5 out of 5]

Gives a great king and a warrior his due..

[Maureen Loomer]

Read this many years ago would like to find it again