"...Then are we in order when we are most out of order" (On "Henry VI, Part 2)

I've struggled to find an entry point to discuss this play. In truth, it feels more like three plays than one coherent whole, even more tangled than its predecessor in the mix of history and legend surrounding the near-mythic figures of the early years of the Wars of the Roses. In it, we see the meteoric treachery and rise of the Duke of York, who would not see the crown on his own head, but whose two sons would eventually wear it before being struck down in turn by the Tudors. But I have more questions than answers.

The first play-within-a-play concerns the actions of Eleanor, Duchess of Gloucester, as she seeks the aid and advice of the unholy in her quest to unseat Henry and Margaret and place the crown upon hers and Gloucester's heads. Her witchcraft within the play is based in fact; Eleanor was convicted of witchcraft (really, consulting astrologers for news of the future, but a trumped-up charge benefited enemies of her husband) in 1441, along with Margery Jourdemayne, Roger Bolingbroke, and Thomas Southwell. Her three accomplices were executed, and the duchess was exiled.

There are only two women in the play, and they are pitted against each other from their first lines; both are viewed as evil, deceptive, conniving, and scheming to control the throne. I love Shakespeare, but I am tired and I cannot help but point out how influential he has been in our culture. When one of our most important cultural sources repeatedly reinforces the idea that women are full of deceit, jealous of each other, and constantly hounding their husbands for more power, what does this do to our collective imagination?

The third section of the play concerns the rebellion of Jack Cade, which took place in 1450 (the events of the play are highly condensed. In reality, the rebellion was one of many over hundreds of years in which the common folk of England sought redress against the crown for abuses of power, particularly in this case those of the Duke of Suffolk. Little is known about the historical Jack Cade, but the play presents him as a figure of menace and mirth, full of lies about his background and lineage.

Most striking at first is how Cade's promises morph and change as his power grows. At first, he promises the commonfolk "reformation": "seven halfpenny loaves sold for a penny: the three-hooped pot shall have ten hoops and I will make it felony to drink small beer: all the realm shall be in common; and in Cheapside shall my palfrey go to grass...there shall be no money; all shall eat and drink on my score..." He promises satisfaction for all their small wants, but with no plan for how that shall occur, and at first he only claims that he wants to be king.

But then, a more ominous note appears. A clerk walks by, and Cade and friends waylay him. When told that the clerk can "can write and read and cast accompt" (do math,) Cade responds with "O monstrous!" The clerk's crime is then compounded by the fact that he teaches young boys to also read and write, to which the rebellious tribe decides to "hang him with his pen and ink-horn about his neck." Later, Cade mentions that the Lord Say "can speak French; and therefore he is a traitor." His argument is that anyone who speaks with the tongue of the enemy must therefore be an enemy, and that knowledge of the enemy cannot make one a good counsellor; ignorance is king.

In the play, Cade's rebellion nearly succeeds. He takes London town and bridge, and is only brought up short when Clifford begs the commoners to relent, invoking the name of the beloved and late King Henry V, and suggesting that they save their ire for their true enemy, France. It takes little, then, for the crowd to turn on Cade and drive him out, and he is later slain in a garden.

In the middle of all of this, we have the pious and gentle young King Henry VI and his Lord Protector Humphrey of Gloucester. Gloucester is brought up on flimsy charges by the pack of lords who hate him for his influence over the young king, but Henry seems powerless to stop them. And smack dab in the middle of the play, Act III, scene i, there is one of the most heartbreaking monologues in all of Shakespeare, as Henry mourns the downfall of his friend and father figure, but is impotent to stop it.

Ay, Margaret; my heart is drown'd with grief,
Whose flood begins to flow within mine eyes,
My body round engirt with misery,
For what's more miserable than discontent?
Ah, uncle Humphrey! in thy face I see
The map of honour, truth and loyalty:
And yet, good Humphrey, is the hour to come
That e'er I proved thee false or fear'd thy faith.
What louring star now envies thy estate,
That these great lords and Margaret our queen
Do seek subversion of thy harmless life?
Thou never didst them wrong, nor no man wrong;
And as the butcher takes away the calf
And binds the wretch, and beats it when it strays,
Bearing it to the bloody slaughter-house,
Even so remorseless have they borne him hence;
And as the dam runs lowing up and down,
Looking the way her harmless young one went,
And can do nought but wail her darling's loss,
Even so myself bewails good Gloucester's case
With sad unhelpful tears, and with dimm'd eyes
Look after him and cannot do him good,
So mighty are his vowed enemies.
His fortunes I will weep; and, 'twixt each groan
Say 'Who's a traitor? Gloucester he is none.'

Shakespeare's imagery here, of the cow running up and down crying for her calf, tears at the heart. But it frustrates, as well. Why is Henry so ineffectual? What is it that keeps him from exerting his power as king to stop the proceedings in their tracks? Shakespeare is still a young playwright at this point (1591,) so it's possible he lacked the ability, time, or support in the theatre to fully flesh out a reason here, but it's frustrating.

So what is the message of Part 2? What can we make of this combination? All falls apart for Henry and his followers when they kill Gloucester. Was he Lord Protector of more than just Henry? Perhaps all of England? Is this a warning? Ha ha, this is what happens when you DON'T have a Protector! But what about an audience watching who DOESN'T have one? There is unease that sits in the pit of the stomach as we watch the villains come first for the women, then the most morally upright, then the educated among us. Who will protect us?