Dueling in Richard II in Historical Context
Eric Brown
The dueling scene between Mowbray and Bollingbroke, as it is presented in one of Shakespeare’s source texts, Holinshed, illustrates fervent notions about the sanctity and usefulness of judicial combat. In Holinshed, Bollingbroke publicly accuses Mowbray of treason and disloyalty. Mowbray responds by accusing Bollingbroke of dishonorable, erroneous defamation. They are so intent to proveon proving their honor and loyalty by participating in this duel that when Richard, their sovereign, commands them to make peace, they both simply reply, it is “not possible” (21). Both sides of the Mowbray/Bollingbroke conflict use very similar language to justify their stubborn determination to duel. One “knight,” speaking for the duke of Hereford (Bollingbroke) says, “He (Bollingbroke) will prove this with his body against the body of the said duke” (22). And Mowbray, in turn, replies, “This will I prove and defend as becometh a loyall knight to do with my body against his” (23). So there’s a clearly articulated concept here of bodies clashing and resulting in some kind of “proof.”
In Richard II, Shakespeare extends this idea of proof deriving from combat. Just before this duel is set to occur in the play, Bollingbroke proclaims, “O let no noble eye profane a tear / for me, if I be gored with Mowbray’s spear” (I.iii.59-60). Bollingbroke’s logic here is clear: if he loses the fight, then he was wrong and deserves no sympathy. These characters understand the duel to be a ritualistic clashing of bodies, which inevitably results in one righteous party and one dead party.
In these scenes, Mowbray and Bollingbroke convey standard gentry attitudes towards trial by combat in early modern England. The act of dueling was closely connected to defending honor. In the Courtiers Calling, for example, Callieres discusses the virtue of patience, but offers this qualification: courtiers must not “bound our hands to let ourselves be insulted on” (47). And in the Book of the Courtier, Baldassare Castiglione voices a similar sentiment when he suggests that the ideal courtier should possess a pleasing countenance as well as the “essential quality, grace,” but maintains that he should also “know how to … conduct himself in duels” (21, 18). Even into the 17th century -- Shakespeare’s time -- the duel, while officially frowned upon, was still very much a common practice. Discussing Henry IV of France, Charles Mackay writes that the king “pretended to set his face against dueling,” but when a chivalrous man named Crequi asked his permission to engage in a duel, Henry stated, “‘Go, and if I were not your king, I would be your second’” (320). Mackay goes on to assert, “There was hardly a man moving in what was called good society, who had not been engaged in a duel” (320). The duel served as a defense of honor, and also a form of arbitration. Peter Leeson, an economist and legal historian, argues that “trial by battle” in early modern England was an economically efficient, reasonable method for solving disputes (1).
So Mowbray and Bollingbroke’s request to duel was not wild or unusual; in hurling accusations and attacking each other’s honor, a duel between them was to be expected, which is why Richard’s intervention to stop the duel is particularly egregious. Richard prevents the men from defending their honor, and also prevents the realization of justice. One could understand Richard’s action here as simply a frivolous exercise of power, but if we assume that these characters, including Richard, recognized trial by combat as a reliable, “efficient” way to find the guilty party, then Richard’s motives may be more calculated. Perhaps he is aware that Mowbray is guilty of Bolingbroke’s accusations, and does not want his citizens to recognize this fact. In any case, the duel, or the trial by combat, was a standard practice in both medieval and Elizabethan England. Even as king, Richard’s act of preventing this time-honored tradition was a clear faux pas.
In Richard II, Shakespeare extends this idea of proof deriving from combat. Just before this duel is set to occur in the play, Bollingbroke proclaims, “O let no noble eye profane a tear / for me, if I be gored with Mowbray’s spear” (I.iii.59-60). Bollingbroke’s logic here is clear: if he loses the fight, then he was wrong and deserves no sympathy. These characters understand the duel to be a ritualistic clashing of bodies, which inevitably results in one righteous party and one dead party.
In these scenes, Mowbray and Bollingbroke convey standard gentry attitudes towards trial by combat in early modern England. The act of dueling was closely connected to defending honor. In the Courtiers Calling, for example, Callieres discusses the virtue of patience, but offers this qualification: courtiers must not “bound our hands to let ourselves be insulted on” (47). And in the Book of the Courtier, Baldassare Castiglione voices a similar sentiment when he suggests that the ideal courtier should possess a pleasing countenance as well as the “essential quality, grace,” but maintains that he should also “know how to … conduct himself in duels” (21, 18). Even into the 17th century -- Shakespeare’s time -- the duel, while officially frowned upon, was still very much a common practice. Discussing Henry IV of France, Charles Mackay writes that the king “pretended to set his face against dueling,” but when a chivalrous man named Crequi asked his permission to engage in a duel, Henry stated, “‘Go, and if I were not your king, I would be your second’” (320). Mackay goes on to assert, “There was hardly a man moving in what was called good society, who had not been engaged in a duel” (320). The duel served as a defense of honor, and also a form of arbitration. Peter Leeson, an economist and legal historian, argues that “trial by battle” in early modern England was an economically efficient, reasonable method for solving disputes (1).
So Mowbray and Bollingbroke’s request to duel was not wild or unusual; in hurling accusations and attacking each other’s honor, a duel between them was to be expected, which is why Richard’s intervention to stop the duel is particularly egregious. Richard prevents the men from defending their honor, and also prevents the realization of justice. One could understand Richard’s action here as simply a frivolous exercise of power, but if we assume that these characters, including Richard, recognized trial by combat as a reliable, “efficient” way to find the guilty party, then Richard’s motives may be more calculated. Perhaps he is aware that Mowbray is guilty of Bolingbroke’s accusations, and does not want his citizens to recognize this fact. In any case, the duel, or the trial by combat, was a standard practice in both medieval and Elizabethan England. Even as king, Richard’s act of preventing this time-honored tradition was a clear faux pas.