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Katherine Gordon and the Art of Marriage Brokering
in Perkin Warbeck
Corinne Abate
Iona College
The title character of John Ford's masterpiece
Perkin Warbeck suffers from an overwhelming concern with
proving the rightfulness of his claim upon the British throne.
Such concern is expected according to Jean Howard, who states
"the Renaissance history play is also an anxious and unstable
genre which at once insists that a strong and stable monarchy
is essential to the health of the entire social order and simultaneously
reveals the precariousness of monarchical power" (261). What
Perkin lacks, then, is confidence in the legitimacy of his actions,
and his boastful speech acts throughout the play belie an uncertainty
of justification that what he proposes to do - acquire Britain
through war under the veneer of legal surety - is not right. What
is an emergent young royal to do?
The most logical approach to solving this
problem of legitimacy is to marry someone in the desired socio-economic
position, so that what Perkin says more convincingly resembles
the truth. What this social climbing, self-made salesman needs,
therefore, is a good woman; "good" not in the sense
of obedient, but economically and politically viable, powerfully
connected to a social status to which Perkin has no other legitimate
access. The answer to Perkin's needs is Katherine Gordon, a princess
and royal relative of James IV of Scotland. By aligning himself
with Katherine, Perkin's anxiety of creating rightfulness will
be allayed as his goals are subsumed under the ægis Katherine
provides. Gayle Rubin's anthropological trafficking theories help
us interrogate a new approach to the traffic in women which reveals,
with specific reference to Perkin Warbeck, the center of
power Katherine creates in her successful empowerment of the domestic
sphere, and one into which she allows Perkin to tap.
Seeking the benefits from an arranged marriage
is an aspect of royal life as old as royalty itself. As Mary Beth
Rose argues, "throughout the heroics of marriage the conceptualization
of women is riddled with ironies and paradoxes that are continually
inscribed but inconsistently acknowledged" (126), and this
gap - both in the sex/gender system1 of the day and
the literature produced by a male playwright bound up in that
system - creates a negotiating space in which female characters
like Katherine can maneuver themselves into profitable marriages.
While Perkin's role in his own achievements should not be ignored,
his challenge to authority would not be perceived as imbued with
the rightfulness with which he is so concerned if Katherine
is not a willing participant. It is this inextricable and co-dependent
relationship to which Coppélia Kahn refers when she suggests
"though it [patriarchy] gives men control over women, it
also makes them dependent on women indirectly and overtly for
the validation of their manhood. Paradoxically, their power over
women also makes them vulnerable to women" (17). According
to the model of conduct and female necessity explored here in
relation to Perkin Warbeck, Kahn does not go far enough
in her recognition of Katherine's accomplishments in brokering
a lucrative contract for herself despite an ultimate appropriation
by the sex/gender system in which she exists. However, Kahn does
speak to Perkin's vulnerability and reliance upon Katherine to
achieve his goal and to secure his expected role in the sex/gender
system by taking a wife and producing heirs. It is a delicious
irony, therefore, that this discussion of necessary subsumption
pertains to a man, engrossed with the idea of kingship, and not
to the indispensable woman upon whom he so heavily relies.
While there is some dispute as to when Perkin
was actually written,2 it is at least known that it
was first published in 1634. Such a late date for the play is
important because it accounts for an amorous tone contained in
the play, having been written at a time when Protestant ideas
of uniting love in marriage become prevalent. Indeed, Eugene M.
Waith suggests that Katherine and Perkin's mutual love "is
a prime ingredient in the paradoxical transformation of the impostor,
Perkin, into a transcendant hero" (51) at the end of the
play. Yet despite what it helps to accomplish, this romantic layer
does not deny Katherine her agency, nor does it preclude the constant
use of commodification terms with which this play is riddled,
not only in regard to Katherine, but also Perkin himself, the
counterfeit Duke. The importance of affection also appears, transmuted,
in Ford's presentation of Katherine's relationship to her father
Huntly. It is a sustained portrait of the complex father-daughter
dynamic that explains how Katherine is so strong-willed and independent,
while also empowered with an incipient understanding of the importance
in choosing the right mate. Because it seems that Huntly influences
not only her decision to marry Perkin but also to remain a widow
at the play's end,3 it is worth giving pause to explore
and understand their relationship. By aligning herself with Perkin,
it may appear at first that Katherine does not follow the lessons
of her father. Indeed, Huntly himself believes this because he
temporarily disowns her over this very issue. Ultimately, though,
she heeds and agrees with his counsel to stand separate from the
followers of both James IV and Henry VII, thereby sustaining her
own center of power, while continuing to provide Perkin with the
legitimacy he has needed from her throughout the play.
Katherine first appears in I.ii where Huntly
has informed Daliell, a hopeful suitor to Katherine, that her
decision to marry is one over which he has no control. If Daliell
can win her hand on his own, then she may agree to accept his
offer, but Huntly can only sponsor Daliell in his suit and not
guarantee a favorable outcome for, as Huntly says to Katherine,
"my care / Shall only counsel what it shall not force"
(ll. 99-100).4 Huntly goes on to remind Katherine,
though it sounds more as if he is reassuring himself, that her
status as a member of the royal family of Scotland should not
be forgotten in her selection process, which is why Daliell would
make an excellent choice:
My Lord of Daliell, young in years, is old
In honours, but nor eminent in titles
Or in estate that may support or add to
The expectation of thy fortunes.
(ll. 115-18)
Huntly, then, points out the well-connected
material aspects of Daliell - honors and eminent titles, with
the added (though non-essential) bonus of his youth - that will
enhance Katherine's future inheritance and maintain her current,
prominent societal status as well.
Huntly concludes by asking Katherine to remember
him and his honor, and to take the freedom he is offering her,
but ultimately, "Thou art thine own" (l. 124). Katherine
thanks her father for the liberty he has granted in allowing her
to make up her own mind. She recognizes her fortunate position,
and assures him that by relinquishing control, he gains her vow
that regardless of a man's "birth, degrees of title, and
advancement" (l. 135), she will "study" only those
options that will cause Huntly not to "blush/In any course
of mine to own me yours" (ll. 138-9). It is unexpected that
Katherine retains such personal control over her future considering
her royal connections, where arranged marriages are par for the
course. What is not surprising, though, is that Huntly be concerned
with her choice because he is inextricably tied to this trafficking
process.
Gayle Rubin, in her ground-breaking anthropological
essay "The Traffic in Women," outlines a model of movement
where "women move in one direction, cattle, shells or mats
in the other" (191) direction, towards the household from
which the woman has come. Rubin also defines a system she calls
the "exchange of women" which specifies "that men
have certain rights in their female kin, and that women do not
have the same rights either to themselves or to their male kin.
In this sense, the exchange of women is a profound perception
of a system in which women do not have full rights to themselves"
(177). This model works, therefore, only if a woman's agency has
been removed by a male kinsman, and, when applying this theory
to Perkin Warbeck, it is clear Huntly has not done this.
There does exist the movement of Katherine away from her father
and his household towards her husband, which means that some sort
of compensation - financial or otherwise - moves back towards
Huntly. This explains why he supports Daliell, whose titles, estates,
and old money will enhance Huntly's standing in the community
and benefit Katherine as well. However, no exchange of Katherine
exists because Huntly, though still participating in the sex/gender
system, leaves the choice of husband to Katherine, thereby preserving
her agency and transgressing the expected boundaries between a
father's role and his daughter's acquiescence. Huntly's promotion
in society can come about only through Katherine's personal choice
and decisions.
As a princess, Katherine will choose carefully,
and because she will "study" every candidate, Huntly
need not fear that she will yield "to a common servile rage
/ Of female wantonness" (ll. 111-2). Katherine has made it
clear in her noncommittal response to Daliell's offer that retaining
and enhancing her own status is a consideration she shares with
her father. To Daliell, she says that "I value mine own worth
at higher rate / Cause you are pleased to prize it" (ll.
147-8), and that when the time comes to exchange vows,
I shall desire
No surer credit of a match with virtue
Than such as lives in you.
(ll. 163-5)
With a joyous "O Kate, thou art mine own!"
(l. 174), Huntly shows how pleased he is with his daughter's carefully
contrived answer because it does not close the door on a future
deal with Daliell. Also, Katherine makes known her political and
financial acumen because she hopes to acquire as good a match
or better than Daliell. Huntly can rest assured, then, that Katherine
has been paying very close attention to his lectures on profiting
from a strong and carefully considered investment. With these
prerequisites in mind, it is no wonder that Katherine settles
upon Perkin as a worthy mate.
Perkin first appears in
II.i, appealing to James IV for help in his fight to wrest the throne of England
away from Henry VII. Claiming to be Richard, Duke of York, nephew
to Margaret of Burgundy and son of Edward IV, Perkin employs the
royal "we" from the outset, and his eloquent manners
and absolute, unwavering conviction in the rightfulness of his
suit wins James over immediately, who believes, "He must
be more than subject who can utter / The language of a king, and
such is thine" (ll. 103-4). Requiring no further proof of
true identity, James agrees to supply Perkin with troops, and
welcomes this "Cousin of York" to his court. Such solid,
royal approval is the first endorsement of legitimacy Perkin receives,
and it explains Katherine's immediate confidence that Perkin is
the type of mate she is seeking because he fits the requirements
of the position: good connections, solid family background, possession
of land and titles, member of the British royal family, potential
for advancement, and is approved of by James. All of these factors
point toward a strong return on Katherine's investment in a man
whose promise exceeds any potential gain a merger with Daliell
has to offer.
Unfortunately, Katherine's choice of mate
does not please Huntly because he belongs to the small percentage
of men who do not believe Perkin to be the Duke of York. In II.iii,
Huntly makes known his fears and unhappiness to James, but by
the time Huntly prophetically announces the ruin that will come
upon Scotland from such a match - "Some of thy subjects'
hearts, / King James, will bleed for this!" (ll. 66-7) -
the courting has already begun off-stage. He is seemingly too
late to stop either the marriage or the war that will ensue, but
he does not actively attempt to halt the proceedings. Huntly may
be unhappy but his loyalty to James and his own desire to honor
his promise to Katherine of not imposing upon her decisions preclude
his interfering. Huntly believes her behavior is fiscally imprudent,
which explains why his words of sorrow are bound up in commodity
terms because if Katherine has thrown away her holdings on a risky
investment, then he too will feel the effects. Now with Daliell,
who is equally distraught over her nuptials, Huntly mourns "what
a bankrupt am I made / Of a full stock of blessings" (III.ii.72-73).
James, on the other hand, is overjoyed with
the match, chides Huntly for his reservations, and replaces Huntly
in his role as father of the bride. It is from James' hand, not
Huntly's, that Perkin accepts Katherine as his bride.5
This further alters Rubin's trafficking diagram, for now Perkin
is in motion, not Katherine. Rubin explains that men too are susceptible
to being trafficked, but as anything other than simply as men,
which differentiates their exchange rate from women who, according
to Rubin, "are transacted as slaves, serfs, and prostitutes,
but also simply as women" (176). That is, Perkin moves away
from the endorsement and legitimizing backing of James and towards
the independent security provided by Katherine, who happily takes
on Perkin's debts of legitimacy previously held by James. What
moves in the direction towards James, as Perkin later describes,
is the promise of a peaceful future with
James and Richard, being in effect
One person, [who] shall unite and rule one people
Divisible in titles only.
(III.ii.106-8)
The result is that Perkin, not regarded simply
as a man, is invested with James' hopes for gaining a strong ally
and enjoying an amicable relationship with the future King of
England. Perkin secures a new source to draw upon establishing
his legitimacy, as he is about to marry a princess whose socio-economic
standing will benefit his own. Further, with Huntly no longer
relevant in the proceedings, Katherine retains and strengthens
her agency because anything of hers that may move away from Perkin
toward James, now the father figure, would leave him again as
it would rejoin Perkin who is currently moving towards her, thus
again returning to her possession. It is a complicated process,
but it effects no change in Katherine and her solvency.
What does affect this contract is that Katherine
and Perkin actually love one another. However, until their heartfelt
rapprochement at the end of the play, a moving scene that showcases
their affections, the newlyweds spend little time alone together.
Further, most of the wooing and even the marriage takes place
off-stage. When Katherine leaves in II.i to entertain the Duke,
she announces her plan to concern herself in Perkin's cause. She
next appears in II.iii, entering hand in hand with Perkin, much
to her father's dismay. Such a swift courtship may be the result
of true love, but it also suggests that Katherine's scheme worked,
tender affection and amorous notions notwithstanding. Their mutual
love is therefore marginalized, and is consistently couched in
or inextricably tied to terms of material gains. This layer of
romance, then, does not hide the fact that this union is still
one of business, as relegating any non-financial aspects to off-stage
makes clear. For example, Perkin says to Katherine:
Acknowledge me but sovereign of this kingdom,
Your heart, fair princess, and the hand of providence
Shall crown you queen of me and my best fortunes.
(ll. 81-3)
If she agrees, Katherine will become queen
both of him and his heart, but also his "best fortunes."
Perkin feels the need to mention, in what is supposed to be a
loving moment, what besides himself Katherine will acquire in
accepting his offer. Moreover, even though they have just been
joined in holy matrimony, Perkin will leave the next day to wage
war against Henry, whom he describes ironically as "the counterfeit."
While clearly love is a part of their relationship, Perkin and
Katherine's outpouring of emotions are always enjoined with financial
references. Katherine sets this commodification tone after Perkin
reveals his regret that tomorrow he will have to "put on
steel, and trace the paths which lead / Through various hazards
to a careful throne" (ll. 145-6). She wishes she could join
him in the battle, as "there's small fortune / In staying here
behind" (ll. 147-8). In other words, Katherine would prefer
to be with him, watching over her investment, rather than remain
in Scotland where she no longer has ties because her future now
lies with (and in) Perkin. His response to her pointed reminder
of what he owes her is an amalgamation of several emotions and
is one of several moments in the play where Perkin stresses "both
his need for and his reverence of her" (Howard 274). The
speech begins in lofty tones, assuring Katherine that the rightfulness
of his claim will protect him, but should he die nobly fighting
to usurp a fraud, her name will be the last word he utters. Perkin
then abruptly reins himself in with "But these are chimes
for funerals," and taking his cue from Katherine's speech,
dedicates his vision of glory to her:
my business
Attends on fortune of a sprightlier triumph;
For love and majesty are reconciled
And vow to crown thee Empress of the West.
(ll. 159-62)6
Perkin acknowledges that Katherine, the legitimizing
backer in his "business," will accordingly receive her
due, but his penchant for hyperbole comes out as he renames her
"Empress of the West." He also does not want to pass
up an opportunity to mention the rightfulness of his claim and
that "love and majesty" are mutually joined in his quest.
Katherine thanks Perkin for his "noble
language" but again reminds him that she has nothing now
but herself and her heart because Perkin is a living, leaving
holder of her material wealth. She wants him to promise that should
they get through this, "no adventure / May sever us in tasting
any fortune" (ll. 176-77) in the future. Always overly confident,
Perkin vows that "our greatness" will insure a victory,
thus again pointing to both the equality Katherine enjoys in their
relationship, as well as the active, necessary role her station
in life has afforded him. Unfortunately, despite painting such
a rosy future for the two of them, Perkin the counterfeit will
soon fail in his social-climbing efforts, leaving Katherine, who
is "a barometer of authenticity" (Anderson 184) throughout
this play, to make her own way by exercising her legitimacy to
buoy a new subject: herself.
It is unfortunate for Katherine, but Perkin's
fall from grace is swift. Yet James, who deftly negotiates the
proceedings, makes sure nothing will reflect poorly upon Katherine
simply because of her husband. By III.iv, James finally questions
the veracity of Perkin's claims and sounds the retreat in the
war, while Perkin himself no longer resembles royalty as he slips
out of using the royal "we" and begins to refer to himself
in first person singular. It is a dark moment, succinctly summarized
in Crawford's observation that the Duke is now "effeminately
dolent,"7 and even Perkin's most ardent supporter
Frion suggests that Perkin only "appears" to be a Duke.
Abandoned by James and questioned by his own followers, Perkin
is again separated from any support network - James pointedly
no longer calls him into council - and he can take refuge only
under Katherine's ægis. But James, though admitting that
he was taken in by Perkin's seemingly royal speech acts and confident
veneer, takes extreme care when deciding Perkin's future. Because
Perkin, married to a Scottish princess, now has a "mixture
with our blood" (IV.iii.44), James will not execute him but
only I will dismiss him
From my protection, throughout my dominions
In safety, but not ever to return.
(ll. 46-8)
Katherine's royal connections, then, spare
Perkin from death either at the hands of Scottish or British troops,
and preclude James from turning him over to Henry. Further, James
borrows from Katherine's example of investing in a mate by entering
into an agreement to marry Margaret, the daughter of Henry VII.
By trafficking in her, James is provided with a legitimate tie
to the British throne - which will result historically in their
great-grandson, James VI, ascending the throne to become James
I in 16038 - and this latest marriage replaces Perkin
with Henry as the person with whom James will attempt to rule
harmoniously. Perkin is entirely displaced and effeminately marginalized
from consideration. Such savvy politicking is a variation on the
very tactics Katherine herself has employed throughout the play,
and because his new legitimizing acquisition has the ability to
pay off in such large dividends, even James cannot believe his
good fortune:
a marriage
With English Margaret, a free release
From restitution for the late affronts!
Cessation from hostility! And all
For Warbeck not delivered, but dismissed!
(ll. 56-60)
Perkin accepts the conditions of being exiled,
and even in such a dark hour does not recant his story. He magnanimously
thanks James for all that he has done on his behalf, asking only
that he may be allowed to bring his wife. Before James can answer
him, Katherine provides her own response:
I am your wife;
No human power can or shall divorce
My faith from duty.
(ll. 101-3)
James concurs, adding only that he will provide
the couple with "furniture becoming her high birth
/ And unsuspected constancy" (ll. 106-7, emphasis mine),
and out of deference to Katherine's still solid societal standing,
they "will part good friends" (l. 108).
Katherine herself is unconcerned about the
turn of events not only because she is reunited with Perkin, but
also because her station in life has prepared her to deal with
such situations: "My fortunes, sir, have armed me to encounter
/ What chance soe'er they meet with" (ll. 127-8). Knowing
that he will be losing his daughter for good, Huntly relents in
his censure and shows up to say good-bye, wishing her the best.
Even Daliell, her erstwhile suitor, arrives to "wait on all
/ Your fortunes in my person" (ll. 166-7), and Perkin thanks
him and accepts "this tender of your love" (l. 170)
towards Katherine. Now devalued, Perkin will suffer for his unsuccessful
attempts at social climbing, and even Katherine temporarily stumbles
into unfortunate circumstances, as the final act of Perkin
Warbeck begins with Katherine finding her way through the
unfamiliar and hostile land of England with only her attendant
Jane and another servant in tow. Because Perkin's fortunes change
for the worse after he shifts his alignment from James to Katherine,
it is tempting to suggest that she is the cause, and had Perkin
remained under the protection of a royal man rather than trafficking
in a royal woman, perhaps he would not face execution at Henry's
hands. However, Perkin's own missteps and obvious military incompetence
detailed in IV.ii create his downfall; Katherine's ægis
of power does not extend to cover the battlefield. Yet though
her royal standing is unsuccessful in sparing his life, it does
effect a change of heart in James, Daliell, and most importantly,
Katherine's personal patriarch, her father Huntly: all show the
defeated Perkin respect because he is married to Katherine, and
her worth enables her to remain almost unaffected by what Perkin's
own actions have brought about.
Despite being captured in Henry's court, Perkin
does not retract his claims of being the Duke of York, and even
continues to employ the royal "we" in front of Henry.
Henry finds all of this amusing, commending Perkin for his acting
abilities, and not to be outdone in self-descriptions of plurality,
assures his followers that "we shall teach the lad another
language" (l. 132), presumably one, according to Judith H.
Anderson, that will "correspond to a counterfeit's real worthlessness
and hence to truth" (176). That is, Henry hopes to break
Perkin's will and get him to admit he is what Henry sardonically
refers to as the "counterfeit King Perkin" (l. 1). Further,
Henry's self-assured conduct and tyrannical treatment of both
Perkin and Katherine throughout V.ii confirm that Perkin is losing
ground. However, it also reveals that Henry misjudges Katherine's
constancy towards her husband and underestimates just how much
power she is in a position to wield. Regardless, Henry dictates
the events throughout this scene, beginning with deliberately
keeping the couple separated both by making sure Perkin is escorted
off stage before Katherine appears dressed in what the stage direction
says is "her richest attire" (315), and also by meeting
Katherine's attempts to extract news from him with pronouncements
of her beauty and the glorious life she will eventually have while
living in his court. Katherine's response to Henry's barrage of
compliments is trenchant: "O sir, I have a husband"
(l. 153). Unfortunately, if Katherine means by this statement
to stop Henry from making any more suggestive remarks and decisive
plans about her future, it backfires. Instead, he continues not
to recognize her autonomy by saying that all roads in her future
will go through him because he will replace and act the part of
every male in her life, "we'll prove your father, husband,
friend and servant" (l. 154).9 All of Henry's
subtle and not so subtle remarks throughout this scene serve to
show Katherine how powerless she is: offering her money implies
that her weakened assets have left her unable to refuse his assistance,
embracing Daliell is meant to suggest that she has lost his independent
protection, and continuing to refer only to her outward appearance
acts as confirmation that Henry's insistence that she live in
England is not an innocent gesture. Compounding these overt machinations
is Katherine's continued ignorance on the status and condition
of Perkin. It is not surprising, then, that she experiences a
rare breakdown in a moment of feeling helpless: "cruel misery
/ Of fate, what rests to hope for?" (ll. 169-70).
With this cry, Katherine acknowledges her
difficult situation and, though her tone is woeful, she still
does not agree to Henry's plans for her, nor does she concede
the match. This is an important point because her continued resistance
is a stance Henry does not recognize; he believes he has thoroughly
outmaneuvered her. Pleased with his subjugated construct of Katherine,
Henry smugly concludes by telling her it will all be over soon,
and with his proposed arrangement he will provide her with something
he incorrectly assumes she is looking for: "peace and Huntly's
blessing" (l. 171). Because of his negotiations with Scotland,
Henry is probably aware that Perkin has lost all of his royal
backing and that many in James' court are not unhappy with his
fall from grace. With her appearance in England escorted only
by a paltry retinue, Henry assumes Perkin's loss of legitimacy
extends to Katherine as well. This is why he deliberately refers
to regaining Huntly's approval because he thinks that by orchestrating
Katherine's separation from Perkin, which means by extension he
has dissolved her marriage, he has wrested control over Katherine
away from Perkin to return to her father. Henry, though, is clearly
unaware that Huntly has abdicated playing that role and is not
involved in such trafficking, and also that it has been Katherine
all along who has actively provided Perkin with his elevated societal
position and is the one responsible for any influence he has wielded.
Because she enjoys this independence, Katherine can and will use
her marital status to buoy Perkin one last time before his execution
and retake control of her own future.
The final scene begins with Perkin being placed
in the stocks, a posture of public humiliation, and given the
opportunity to recant again his claims to being royalty. As Joseph
Candido states, Perkin's refusal to confess leaves little doubt
"that Perkin is a man of 'spirit'," and that "his
love for Katherine, his utter self-absorption in the idea
of kingship, and even his steadfast courage in maintaining the
fiction all attest to the fact without question" (308). Like
his wife, Perkin strives to remain independent to the end. Katherine
soon appears - still dressed "in her richest attire"
- and the couple is finally reunited, with Katherine immediately
addressing Perkin as "O my loved lord!" (V.iii. 82).
By pointedly referring to Perkin as a lord and for not distancing
herself as other spectators expect her to, Katherine continues
to lend credibility to Perkin's story and invest the proceedings
with tragic dignity, for her words are, as Michael Cameron Andrews
importantly notes, "addressed to Warbeck in the presence
of men wholly committed to Henry," and that they "assert
the primacy of the intimate and personal; all else - even the
dynastic - is of lesser consequence" (90). Perkin understands
the importance of her presence and the symbolism of faith and
truth it brings to bear upon him and his words, and he does not
allow her act on his behalf to go unnoticed:
Great miracle of constancy! My miseries
Were never bankrupt of their confidence
In worst afflictions, till this now, I feel them.
(ll. 88-90)
As Rowland Wymer describes it, "Katherine's
fidelity represents Perkin's one great moral victory over Henry,
whose own wife is never seen and whose closest friend betrayed
him" (152). Henry may have defeated Perkin, then, but his
victory will not be an absolute triumph because Katherine will
not relinquish the role of staunch, unwavering supporter despite
Perkin's restricted, humiliated, and subjugated position.
Katherine's refusal to leave Perkin causes
much consternation among the men present. Oxford even goes so
far as to imply she has forgotten that she is a member of the
royal family, and should therefore not align herself with Perkin,
that "impudent impostor" (l. 111). Such disapproval
only strengthens Katherine's resolve to lend support to Perkin,
and in her response to Oxford, she deliberately says,"You
abuse us" (l. 111), thus linking herself to Perkin with words
as well as gestures. Katherine has no reason not to be so constant
because regardless of Perkin's claims on the British throne and
any treasonous acts he may have committed, there is one name he
is called that is not false, one that is more important and most
meaningful to her, that of husband: "For when the holy churchman
joined our hands / Our vows were real then" (ll. 112-3).
By personalizing Oxford's reference to Perkin's dynastic claims
and instead applying it to their marriage, Katherine - unquestioned
as his legal wife - can honorably and legitimately stay by Perkin's
side without concern of being reprimanded. Moreover, "through
her constancy and duty, Katherine has validated the reality of
the words she once vowed" (Anderson 189) and having already
verbally connected herself with Perkin, such speech acts continue
to buoy Perkin. Grateful for this gesture, Perkin couches their
marriage in terms of a microcosmic monarchy, so that "Even
when I fell, I stood enthroned a monarch / Of one chaste wife's
troth, pure and uncorrupted" (ll. 125-6). According to Alexander
Leggatt, because both Katherine and Perkin inscribe their marriage
with this monarchical tableau, the action of the play moves "from
a literal kingship that seems, increasingly, a dead idea, to the
sort of figurative kingship, the royalty of nature, that any person
with integrity can claim" (136). Ellen Ryan Dubinski concurs,
and says "that the kingship with which Ford concerns himself
in this other kind of chronicle is quite obviously another kind
of kingliness - linked not to birth or position - but to the individual
himself" (239). In the end, then, Perkin may not have been
a literal king, but Katherine's conduct for him and towards him
made him feel like one after all.10
Such outpourings of genuine emotions still
do not silence Oxford, who again reminds Katherine that as a lady
she should not be behaving this way. Having tried previously and
failed in his endeavor, Oxford adopts a new tactic - though he
will eventually be proven wrong - and this time mentions that
her father, "the lord ambassador" (l. 132), would be
ashamed of her conduct. As before, Oxford's attempts to quiet
Katherine succeed only in prompting her to become more resolute,
and she now does something quite clever. Willfully misinterpreting
Oxford's objections, Katherine abruptly changes the tone of her
conversation and agrees with the angered Oxford, though surely
this was not what he was suggesting she do, and decides she should
be "more peremptory in my duty" (l. 138). With that,
Katherine's tone becomes juridical, and she assumes the role of
primary provider who wants to assess and rebuild the solvency
of her financial picture; she asks Perkin for a will:
Impute it not unto immodesty
That I presume to press you to a legacy,
Before we part for ever.
(ll. 139-41)
Perkin unhesitatingly complies, knowing that
it hardly matters both because he is about to be executed, and
also because she is the person who shared her assets, her societal
connections, and her titles when he had none to bring with him
into the marriage. Therefore, he bequeaths to her the one possession
he has to offer: his heart, which is "the rich remains of
all my fortunes" (l. 142). Katherine accepts it, and so as
to make sure her agency remains strong and independent, she further
astonishes the gathering crowd by vowing "to die a faithful
widow to thy bed / Not to be forced or won. O never, never!"
(ll. 151-2). By removing herself from the category of eligible
female, Katherine has created for herself an independent future,
where she can live in the slippery domain of widowhood,11
free of any threat to her potency, preserving her center of power
and retaining the final word on any personal decision that will
need to be made. Not surprisingly, Rubin does not address the
issue of widows because no trafficking occurs: the system of power
conferred on men and by men through the medium of women has no
place in a socially constructed gender status that by its very
definition is independent from men. Therefore Katherine, who was
not subjugated while married because she was not trafficked, emerges
a triumphant widow who is still connected to the sex/gender system,
but in an autonomously threatening role.
Ford has been criticized for making Katherine
a widow, when her historical prototype went on to acquire (and
bury) three more husbands.12 However, like Marlowe
and Shakespeare, Ford's precursors in the chronicle history genre,
he took from his sources what he could use, what would create
good drama, and embellished or crafted fictive outcomes for the
rest. With this emendation, Ford creates a space in which Katherine
may be reconciled with her father by heeding his advice to her
and wishes for her, all without compromising her agency. It is
one of the few times in the play that Ford departs from his sources
- another notable moment being his omission of Perkin's public
confession before being executed - and both serve to strengthen
Katherine's case. As Thelma N. Greenfield notes, Katherine is
"the only character of royal connection who manages to elude
the charge of counterfeit" (13). Throughout the play, Katherine
"undergoes successfully the same challenge to personal worth
and the same challenge to capacity for noble deeds as do her male
counterparts" (Greenfield 13), and to emphasize her success
in this endeavor, Ford deliberately makes Katherine a solitary
figure of support and loyalty to the end, and it is not an unexpected
result considering her previous conversations with her father.
In I.ii, when Huntly first announces that
Katherine is solely responsible for selecting her own mate, he
suggests that she choose carefully because "thou canst but
make one choice; the ties of marriage / Are tenures not at will
but during life" (ll. 101-2). That is, Huntly cautions Katherine
that she will get married only once in life, so when at the play's
end she announces her intentions to stay a widow, Katherine is
complying with her father's ideas on this subject. This explains
why, when Huntly arrives finally towards the end of V.iii, that
he is not outraged by either the behavior of his daughter as Oxford
thought he would be, or by her decision to live as a widow. Instead,
Huntly, despite his displeasure with her choice in mate, nevertheless
understands her current actions and acknowledges her right to
"enjoy thy duty to a husband freely" (l. 161). Huntly
continues to prove Oxford wrong by saying he is also proud that
she has taken up such a strong and unexpected position, and is
further delighted to bear witness upon such conduct that reflects
positively upon him and the lessons of proper mate selection that
Katherine has followed:
I glory in thy constancy;
And must not say I wish that I had missed
Some partage in these trials of a patience.
(ll. 162-4)
His relationship with Katherine restored, Huntly
forgives her and in so doing, extends an important gesture of
support by publicly condoning her actions to maintain an independent
power base; he even imparts "a farewell / Of manly pity"
(l. 169) to Perkin.
Admittedly, Katherine has suffered in the
play because of her independent choice of mate. Howard is not
surprised by this because "disasters are shown [on the Renaissance
stage] to follow from women's exercise of judgement in these matters,
or it becomes apparent that women are granted this freedom only
so long as they exercise it in a way patriarchal authority finds
acceptable" (267). In Howard's model, therefore, Katherine's
agency is removed so that she is doomed if she does not select
her own husband, and is doomed if she does. Yet Katherine did
exercise her judgment both in a way that patriarchal authority
- in the figure of James IV and his court - initially found acceptable,
and also that satisfied her own requirements for the role; the
two need not be mutually exclusive. Further, the play does not
end disastrously for Katherine nor for Henry and James. Only Perkin
suffers because Katherine can no longer stave off his execution
as she embraces her newly fashioned role of widow. Rather than
ending what has all along been an "ill-fated exercise of
female independence" (Howard 268), the play concludes with
Katherine having successfully secured a will from her beloved
husband, acquired a separate peace with her reconciled father,
and created a space in which to live the life she wants to lead.
Her exemplary comportment, culminating in what Verna Ann Foster
calls "her proud self-abasement" in the face of her
husband's humiliated imprisonment, shows that it is Katherine
"who is in all ways the stronger and more discriminating
character" (149) throughout the play. It is no wonder, therefore,
that Ford's unblemished and noble portrait of dignity has earned
the distinction, according to Marion Lomax, as ranking "among
the most dramatically powerful female characters on the post-Shakespearean
stage" (viii).
When explaining her advocacy for the term
"sex/gender" in favor of its alternative "patriarchy,"
Rubin says, "Patriarchy is a specific form of male dominance,
and the use of the term ought to be confined to the Old Testament-type
pastoral nomads from whom the term comes, or groups like them"
(168). While I am not suggesting that the term "traffic in women"
should be confined to similarly restrictive situations, I am instead
arguing for a re-investment of the concept. When that occurs,
it is revealed how female characters like Katherine Gordon remain
involved in the trafficking process, but to their own advantage.
That is, they still participate in the male-dominated sex/gender
system, but invert the subjugation and oppression expected to
result when they become wives because, as it turns out, their
husbands rely on them and the legitimacy their stations in life
afford the men. So although I reach a different conclusion than
Rubin, her theories can be inscribed as empowering Katherine during
the nuptial process, rather than contributing to a loss of her
agency. This to me is Ford's most important accomplishment: creating
a "good" female character who affords legitimacy while
retaining an individual and solvent center of power. That Ford
constructed Katherine owning such traits is a testament to his
shrewd understanding of the sex/gender system in which he lived,
and it is his acknowledgment of the indispensable role performed
by noble women to maintain that system. The notion of trafficking
- the word itself coming into its own during the Renaissance -
is a prevalent one but it need not signal subjugation. Instead
it can be fashioned into an opportunity for a woman to create
a niche in society, a pursuit in which Katherine engages throughout
Perkin Warbeck. Katherine is, ultimately, a literary example
of female strength, exemplifying the ability to survive within
a system that may subsume women - as Ford's own experience with
a sex/gender system subsumed both sexes - but does not concurrently
consume them.
Notes
1 This
term, an alternative to the monolithic "patriarchal system,"
comes from Gayle Rubin and her groundbreaking essay "The
Traffic in Women: Notes on the 'Political Economy' of Sex."
Rubin explains that "patriarchy" is an insufficient
label as opposed to a sex/gender system that maintains "a
distinction between the human capacity and necessity to create
a sexual world, and the empirically oppressive ways in which sexual
worlds have been organized. Patriarchy subsumes both meanings
into the same term. Sex/gender system, on the other hand, is a
neutral term which refers to the domain and indicates that oppression
is not inevitable in that domain, but is the product of the specific
social relations which organize it" (168).
2 In his
book "Theatres of Greatness": A Revisionary View
of Ford's Perkin Warbeck, Dale B.J. Randall argues that Ford
wrote this play in the 1620s, making it a late Jacobean play,
rather than an early Caroline production. Lisa Hopkins does not
necessarily disagree, and in her brilliant book John Ford's
Political Theatre claims "the play seems to be offering
subtle criticisms of Charles I" (172). Further, Hopkins does
not find it surprising that Ford chose to write about this episode
in English history because "almost every major character
in Perkin Warbeck is in fact a direct ancestor of a Ford
dedicatee or of a member of their family" (40), and the dedicatees
were all opposed to Charles I.
3 See
Susannah Brietz Monta, "Marital Discourse and Political Discord:
Reconsidering Perkin Warbeck." Monta reads Katherine
as a disruptive figure by "legitimating a pretender in the
realm of domesticity despite his condemnation in the political
world" (1), but inscribes Katherine's achievements in a submissive
arena by suggesting she was following her obsequious wifely duties
as described in the marriage manuals of Ford's day.
4 John
Ford, 'Tis Pity She's a Whore and Other Plays, ed. Marion
Lomax. All further quotations of this play will refer to this
Oxford, 1995 edition.
5 Ira
Clark contends that James' "desire that Katherine marry
Warbeck instead of her father's choice countermands her filial
obedience" (79). Such a reading not only removes from Katherine
the power to choose her mate, but also inscribes Huntly with a
level of control he does not possess. As I have illustrated, Huntly
can interfere only insofar as to decry her selection, and may
not impose his will.
6 This
hyperbolic finale borrows from Tamburlaine's promise to make Zenocrate
"empress of the world" (III.iii.125). For more examples
of how Ford borrowed from Marlowe, see Mark Thornton Burnett,
"Marlovian Echoes in Ford's Perkin Warbeck."
7 Jean
Howard argues that with this emasculating description of the impostor,
Ford is both feminizing Perkin as well as the history genre itself,
and therefore "shows how a patriarchal, absolutist culture
unthinks itself" (264).
8 Historically,
the confusing royal ancestry of James VI and I is remarkable,
whereby Margaret is not only his maternal grandmother but his
paternal grandmother as well. As Randall succinctly explains,
Margaret "became the grandmother of Mary Queen of Scots,
who was the mother of James VI and I; and by her second marriage
Margaret became the grandmother of James's father, Henry Stuart,
Lord Darnley, who on his father's side was descended from a junior
branch of the royal Stuarts and could make a claim to the Scottish
throne that was nearly as good as Mary's own.... When James VI
of Scotland came down into England, he did, indeed, bring an extraordinary
confluence of lines" (20-22).
9 It is
because of his tyrannical posturing in matters both public and
private that Henry is never fully vindicated by the play's end,
despite being the only major character with the perspicacity to
suspect Perkin of lying from the beginning. Further, several scholars
have made the point that while the word "counterfeit"
is ascribed to Perkin throughout the play, Henry's climb to the
throne is not free from also being characterized as such. See
Leggatt, Greenfield, and Howard.
10 Leggatt
goes on to suggest that unlike Shakespeare, who has little interest
in exploring the private sphere, Ford more fully develops it because
Perkin Warbeck was written at an historical time when "it
may no longer be possible to be unquestioned king of England,
but it is possible to be king in one's own mind" (137). Indeed,
Shakespeare's foray into investing a private moment with importance
- Henry V's wooing of Katharine for example - appears artificial
and stagey when compared to Ford's inward-looking portrait of
Katherine and Perkin, written decades later.
11 Rose
notes how problematic it was for the dominant culture to absorb
and define widowhood because "an independent woman running
her own household presented a contradiction to English patriarchal
ideology" (165). Theodora A. Jankowski concurs, and in Women
in Power in the Early Modern Drama suggests that widows were
perceived as a threat to the social order (35-6).
12 In
an interesting historical footnote, Michael Van Cleave Alexander
explains in his book The First of the Tudors: A Study of Henry
VII and His Reign that the real Katherine "resumed her
maiden name shortly after her capture" (120) by Henry VII's
troops. However, over a decade passed before she married her second
husband James; therefore Ford's portrait of her as self-fashioning
the role of widow is not misrepresentative.
Works Cited
Alexander, Michael Van Cleave. The First
of the Tudors: A Study of Henry VII and His Reign. Totowa:
Rowman and Littlefield, 1980.
Anderson, Judith H. "'But We Shall Teach
the Lad Another Language': History and Rhetoric in Bacon, Ford,
Donne." Renaissance Drama 20 (1989): 169-196.
Andrews, Michael Cameron. "The Fineness
of His Frailty: An Essay on Perkin Warbeck." Jacobean
Miscellany 3 95.3: 60-95.
Burnett, Mark Thornton. "Marlovian Echoes
in Ford's Perkin Warbeck." Notes & Queries
36.3 (1989): 347-349.
Candido, Joseph. "The 'Strange Truth'
of Perkin Warbeck." Philological Quarterly
59.3 (1980): 300-316.
Clark, Ira. Professional Playwrights: Massinger,
Ford, Shirley, and Brome. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky,
1992.
Dubinski, Ellen Ryan. "The Chronicling
of Majesty in Perkin Warbeck." Iowa State Journal
of Research 59.3 (1985): 233-240.
Ford, John. 'Tis Pity She's a Whore and
Other Plays. Ed. Marion Lomax. Oxford: Oxford University Press,
1995.
Foster, Verna Ann. "Perkin Without the
Pretender: Reexamining the Dramatic Center of Ford's Play."
Renaissance Drama 16 (1985): 141-158.
Greenfield, Thelma N. "John Ford's Tragedy:
The Challenge of Re-engagement." "Concord in Discord":
The Plays of John Ford, 1586-1986. Ed. Donald K. Anderson,
Jr. NY: AMS Press, 1986. 1-26.
Hopkins, Lisa. John Ford's Political Theatre.
Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1994.
Howard, Jean. "'Effeminately Dolent':
Gender and Legitimacy in Ford's Perkin Warbeck." In
John Ford: Critical Re-visions. Ed. Michael Neill. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1988. 261-279.
Jankowski, Theodora A. Women in Power in
the Early Modern Drama. Urbana: University of Illinois Press,
1992.
Kahn, Coppélia. Man's Estate: Masculine
Identity in Shakespeare. Berkeley: University of California
Press, 1981.
Leggatt, Alexander. "A double reign: Richard
II and Perkin Warbeck." Shakespeare and His
Contemporaries: Essays in Comparison. Ed. E.A.J. Honigmann.
London: Manchester University Press, 1986. 129-140.
Monta, Susannah Brietz. "Marital Discourse
and Political Discord: Reconsidering Perkin Warbeck." SEL:
Studies in English Literature, 1500-1900 37.2 (1997): 391-413.
Randall, Dale B.J. "Theatres of Greatness":
A Revisionary View of Ford's Perkin Warbeck. Victoria: English
Literary Studies, University of Victoria, 1986.
Rose, Mary Beth. The Expense of Spirit:
Love and Sexuality in English Renaissance Drama. Ithaca: Cornell
University Press, 1988.
Rubin, Gayle. "The Traffic in Women:
Notes on the 'Political Economy' of Sex." Toward an Anthropology
of Women. Ed. Rayna R. Reiter. NY: Monthly Review Press, 1975.
157-210.
Waith, Eugene M. "John Ford and the Final
Exaltation of Love." "Concord in Discord": The
Plays of John Ford, 1586-1986. Ed. Donald K. Anderson, Jr.
NY: AMS Press, 1986. 49-60.
Wymer, Rowland. Webster and Ford. NY:
St. Martin's Press, 1995.
Corinne S. Abate is Assistant Professor of English at Iona College. She is
the author of "The Mischief-Making of Raphael in Paradise Lost" which
appeared in English Language Notes, and her essay in this issue is
part of a book project that examines the abilities of strong female
characters in English Renaissance drama to own and bestow various forms of
power in their capacities as wives.
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