Shakespeare, Richard II, and the Essex Rebellion

Like so many things, playmaking in Elizabethan England was more than it appeared. History plays could promote the message of the Queen’s reign and Tudor dynasty. But Shakespeare was more interested in breaking down leadership and all the expectations people had of leaders. 

In Richard II, Shakespeare pulls the curtain back on Richard’s thinking. He brings us right into Richard’s mind and heart. We hear Richard speak from his heart. Shakespeare gives Richard some of the most poetic speeches in any his plays. Some of the things Richard says about his worth, his identify, his value in the world are heart-breaking because they ring true for all of us.

Supporters of the Essex rebellion arranged for a special playing of Richard II in hopes of stirring up support for their cause. This performance included a censored scene--the one where Richard gives up his crown. The Queen herself recognized the power of the image of replacing an unpopular monarch, declaring, "I am Richard II; know ye not that?"

Richard II was censored because theatre is so powerful. Censorship attempts to silence voices with messages that challenge those in power. It happened in Shakespeare’s time, and it happens today. The story of Richard II and the Earl of Essex reminds us that art is powerful enough to be silenced, which means it is powerful enough it must be heard.

History shows us what's possible.

Transcript

When we think of Shakespeare’s plays, we might think of the humor of Comedy of Errors, Twelfth Night, As You Like It, or Midsummer Night’s Dream. We certainly think of the great tragedies such as Romeo and Juliet, Othello, Hamlet, and Macbeth. But other than Richard III and Henry V, we don’t often think of the history plays. In Shakespeare’s day, history plays were very popular and often sometimes charged with tension. For today’s journey to the past, we’re joining the court of Queen Elizabeth I to watch how Shakespeare’s play Richard II played a key role in the Essex rebellion and nearly landed Shakespeare and his company in the Tower of London. We’ll also take a look at why a play, something designed for entertainment, can be such a volatile and controversial thing.

Like so many things, playmaking in Elizabethan England was more than it appeared. Elizabeth’s Spymaster, Francis Walsingham, established the Queen’s Men in 1583. Walsingham’s involvement signaled an awareness that there was potential for combining theatrical performances and propaganda, as well as possibly intelligence gathering. After all, at this point players traveled through the country to perform. New plays could promote the message of the Queen’s reign and Tudor dynasty. The players and other members of the company could serve as amateur spies, listening and watching the goings on in various households.

Why was this important? In the face of rebellions and efforts to replace Elizabeth with Mary Queen of Scots, Elizabeth’s reign continued to be vulnerable to Catholics in England and abroad. Walsingham was determined to do whatever it took to gather any information about threats to Elizabeth and Protestant England. If you want to hear more about Walsingham and his vast spy network, check out the “Tudor Spies” episode of the podcast.

So, history plays had a particular role in Elizabethan England: to promote the Tudor dynasty and celebrate the reign of Elizabeth I. The story of Henry V, with his extraordinary victory at Agincourt and the celebration of England as a powerful nation, was an obvious choice. Shakespeare wrote about Henry V. But that wasn’t his only history play. Shakespeare had other goals.

Throughout his career, Shakespeare was especially interested in breaking down leadership and all the expectations people had of leaders. As you can imagine, in Tudor England, questioning leaders sometimes meant literally losing your head. So Shakespeare used stories of old, previous, historic leaders to do his work.

Take his play Richard II. The story of Richard II is not like the story of Henry V. After all, Henry V was the hero warrior king who did what so few English kings had been able to do: Henry V defeated the French! Go, England. This was an easy story to tell in Elizabethan England—English victory, French defeat, great king, power and strength and success. Shakespeare’s Henry V was and still is one of his most popular plays. But he also grappled with bad leaders, tyrants, kings who made the country weaker instead of stronger.

That brings us to Richard II. He was not a great king. He did not strengthen the country. He made bad decisions. He didn’t rally his troops. He didn’t inspire loyalty. And, ultimately, he lost his crown. He didn’t lose a battle, fighting to the end. He gave up his crown.

Shakespeare makes the most of this decision and action. He pulls the curtain back on Richard’s thinking. He brings us right into Richard’s mind and heart. We hear Richard speak from his heart. Shakespeare gives Richard some of the most poetic speeches in any his plays. Some of the things Richard says about his worth, his identify, his value in the world are heart-breaking because they ring true for all of us. 

So why is this such a controversial play? Kings are not supposed to think and speak and act this way! Richard gives up his crown. He doesn’t remain king. He is an anointed king so when he questions the very nature of kingship, we listen. We start asking those questions. Is it OK for Bolingbroke to get rid of the king? Is it ever OK to get rid of the king? Can the answer ever be yes?

Shakespeare seems to say the answer can be yes. He shows us that answer in play. He shows us the deposition of a king who is no longer the best leader for the country.

Queen Elizabeth was NOT amused.

This was not a time when controversial depictions of kingship and leadership were allowed on stage. It was most certainly not a time when it was OK to discuss the removal of a king. And it was absolutely, positively NOT OK to have the answer to the question about the removal of a king to be “Yes, go ahead. Remove the king.” Or…the queen.

Because if it’s even remotely possible that it’s OK to remove a king, it would certainly be possible to remove a queen. Queen Elizabeth was vulnerable on her throne for several reasons—her religion, her father’s declaring her illegitimate, and her gender. Richard II had none of those challenges. So if someone can remove Richard, it follows that someone court certainly remove a non-Catholic and therefore heretical, illegitimate woman!

If a play includes a scene where a king is removed, it is not acceptable. A portion of Act 4 of Shakespeare’s Richard II was NOT allowed to be printed or played.

Theatre was tightly controlled in Elizabethan England. The Master of the Revels had to preview and approve any play before it was allowed to be performed on the public stage. So Richard II was only allowed to be performed if the scene where the king was deposed was cut out. Including that scene in a performance would mean that the play was no longer allowed to be performed, and it might very well mean that other Shakespeare plays were also not allowed. It might even mean the theatre would be closed. 

So the smart business decision was to keep the Master of the Revels happy.

Richard II was entered into the Stationers Company in 1597, so it was in the public discussion by then. It was published in quarto form that year. Most people think the quartos lack the deposition scene because of censorship, either by the playhouse or by the Master of the Revels, who was Edmund Tylney at the time. 

After many performances, Richard II gradually fell out of favor. That’s what happened to plays. Theatre in the sixteenth and early seventeenth century was always changing. What’s popular in 1597 is likely entirely out of fashion by 1598. New plays were being performed all the time. So it may have been a bit of a surprise when Shakespeare’s company was asked to perform Richard II in 1601.

Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, was a favorite of Elizabeth I from the late 1580s into the 1590s. He was tall, handsome, bright, and eloquent. He was also a showman in the art of courtly love, praising and flattering the aging Queen. He became Master of the Horse in 1587, replacing Elizabeth’s longtime favorite Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester. The Queen even made Essex a member of her Privy Council in 1593. Essex thrived on the Queen’s favor, eventually convincing himself he could do no wrong. He was arrogant with more experienced members of the Council, particularly Sir Robert Cecil.

In 1599, Essex led a large expeditionary force to put an end to the rebellions led by the Hugh O’Neill, Earl of Tyrone, in Ireland. The Queen expected a swift and decisive victory, but instead Essex fought a series of inconclusive battles in southern Ireland and wasted the limited funds he was given. Rather than battle O’Neill, Essex agreed to a truce that many considered humiliating to England and English authority. The Queen was furious.

Defying orders and all levels of court etiquette, Essex returned to England before being recalled and burst in upon the Queen in her chambers at Nonsuch Palace before she was properly dressed for the day. Later, some claimed he ridiculed her appearance and “crooked carcass.” He was commanded to appear before the council, which determined his truce with O’Neill was indefensible and his leaving Ireland was desertion. He was committed to the custody of Richard Berkeley in York House. From there, he probably reached out to James VI of Scotland. In June of 1600, Essex was tried and convicted of betraying Queen and country.

Thanks to Elizabeth, who still seemed to have some regard for him, Essex did not remain in custody for long. But he was deprived of public office, and his grant to the monopoly on sweet wines, his primary source of income, was canceled. He decided to take the drastic option of open rebellion against the government. In early 1601, he began to fortify Essex House and gather followers. On February 5, 1601, some of his followers met with Augustine Philipps, an actor and company manager for the Lord Chamberlain’s Men. They arranged for the playing of Richard II, with the deposition scene, at the Globe Theatre. The play sent a powerful message about the dangers of wicked royal advisors and the possibility of removing a royal king. It’s thought Essex and his followers through this would increase public support for the rebellion against the Queen and her Council.

So, perhaps for the first time, people would have heard these lines performed:

Bolingbroke:  Fetch hither Richard, that in common view

                        He may surrender.

…

Richard:         To what service am I sent for hither?

York:               To do that of thine own good will

                        Which tired majesty did make thee offer:

                        The resignation of thy state and crown

                        To Henry Bolingbroke.

…

Richard:         Now, mark me, I will undo myself.

                        I give this heavy weight from off my head,

                        And this unwieldy scepter from my hand,

                        The pride of kingly sway from out my heart;

                        With mine own tears I wash away my balm,

                        With mine own hands I give away my crown,

                        With mine own tongue deny my sacred state,

                        With mine own breath release all duteous oaths;

                        All pomp and majesty I do forswear

                        My manors, rents, revenues, I forgo

                        My acts, decrees, and statues I deny.

…

                        God save King Harry, unking’d Richard says.

…

[Richard asks for a glass, or mirror]

Richard:         Was this face the face

                        That every day under his household roof

                        Did keep ten thousand men? Was this the face

                        That like the sun did make beholders wink?

                        Is this the face which fac’d so many follies,

                        That was at last out-fac’d by Bolingbroke?

                        A brittle glory shineth in this face;

                        As brittle as the glory is the face,

[Dashes the glass against the ground, shattering it]

                        For there it is, crack’d in a hundred shivers.

                        Mark, silent king, the moral of this sport—

                        How soon my sorrow hath destroy’d my face.

…

Bolingbroke:  Go, some of you, convey him to the Tower.

Richard:         O, good! Convey! Conveyers are you all,

                        That rise thus nimbly by a true king’s fall.

(The Arden edition of William Shakespeare, Richard II, edited by Peter Ure.)

The day after the performance, February 8, Essex and his supporters entered the City of London to demand an audience with the Queen. Sir John Leveson placed a barrier at Ludgate Hill. The public support Essex had wished for had not arrived to support him, having decided they had better things to do that day. When the men tried to force their way through the barrier, at least one was injured. Essex and his followers, outnumbered and already defeated, withdrew back to Essex House. Soldiers arrested Essex and took him to the Tower.

Hoping to distance themselves from charges of treason, Augustine Phillips made a public statement a few days later. He explained that the company was paid an extra 40 shillings to perform this play, and that this particular play had been chosen by the patron. This seemed to satisfy the Queen and Council, and no members of the Lord Chamberlain’s Men were punished. However, at least one of the men who had met with Phillips to request the play, Sir Gelly Meyrick, was hung, drawn, and quartered.

Essex was found guilty of treason. He was executed on February 25, 1601. It’s said that the messenger who brought Elizabeth the news of the execution found her playing the virginals. When he told her of the death of her former favorite, she stopped playing and sat in silence. No one spoke. After a few minutes, she started playing again.

But all of this certainly must have shaken the Queen. Elizabeth I may have spent hours putting on makeup and wigs and gowns that were designed to convince everyone she was ageless and could reign forever. But she knew the truth. Her closest friends had already died. She had no heir. She must have often felt that she alone bore the burden of keeping her country safe, and that the burden was becoming more difficult for her to manage as the days and weeks and months and years passed. A few months after the death of Essex, William Lambarde reported that the Queen said, “I am Richard II. Know ye not that?” She was certainly aware of the vulnerability she shared with the unpopular and ineffective king. And she was certainly aware of the power of theatre on the public and the political stage. 

How can the performance of a play about a former king be so controversia? How powerful is theatre? Well, in Shakespeare’s time, theatre was one of the most common ways to bring people together. People of different stations in life were crammed into a space where the playwright’s world vision was acted out in front of them. This was Tudor mass communication. And theatre is just as powerful today. Consider Hamilton, a blockbuster of our time. It’s no coincidence that the play has directly encountered two different political administrations. First, Lin-Manuel Miranda and members of the cast visited the White House and performed the emerging play for President and Mrs. Obama, as well as many others. Then, with a new administration that could not be more differen, the cast of Hamilton was able to address the Vice President who was in attendance. Through their performance and words expressed afterwards, the cast asked him to pay attention to the story of the play and the fact that the story of America’s history was told by people of color in a style and rhythm that reflected their appearance.

Richard II was censored because theatre is so powerful. Censorship attempts to silence voices with messages that challenge those in power. It happened in Shakespeare’s time, and it happens today. The story of Richard II and the Earl of Essex reminds us that art is powerful enough to be silenced, which means it is powerful enough it must be heard.

Thank you for joining me to explore the controversies of Shakespeare’s Richard II. Please join me next time as we begin exploring family feuds with the exes and in-laws of Henry VIII!