Andrew Lang
Shakespeare, Bacon, and the Great Unknown
UUID: 8e865200-1442-11e6-8b9c-0f7870795abd
This ebook was created with StreetLib Write (http://write.streetlib.com)by Simplicissimus Book Farm
Table of contents
INTRODUCTION
I THE BACONIAN AND ANTI-WILLIAN POSITIONS
II THE “SILENCE” ABOUT SHAKESPEARE
III THAT IMPOSSIBLE HE—THE SCHOOLING OF SHAKESPEARE
IV MR. COLLINS ON SHAKESPEARE’S LEARNING
V SHAKESPEARE, GENIUS, AND SOCIETY
VI THE COURTLY PLAYS: “LOVE’S LABOUR’S LOST”
VII CONTEMPORARY RECOGNITION OF WILL AS AUTHOR
VIII “THE SILENCE OF PHILIP HENSLOWE”
IX THE LATER LIFE OF SHAKESPEARE—HIS MONUMENT AND PORTRAITS
X “THE TRADITIONAL SHAKSPERE”
XI THE FIRST FOLIO
XII BEN JONSON AND SHAKESPEARE
XIII THE PREOCCUPATIONS OF BACON
APPENDICES
FOOTNOTES
INTRODUCTION
The
theory that Francis Bacon was, in the main, the author of
“Shakespeare’s plays,” has now been for fifty years before the
learned world. Its advocates have met with less support than
they had reason to expect. Their methods, their logic, and
their hypotheses closely resemble those applied by many British and
foreign scholars to Homer; and by critics of the very Highest School
to Holy Writ. Yet the Baconian theory is universally rejected
in England by the professors and historians of English literature;
and generally by students who have no profession save that of
Letters. The Baconians, however, do not lack the countenance
and assistance of highly distinguished persons, whose names are
famous where those of mere men of letters are unknown; and in circles
where the title of “Professor” is not duly respected.The
partisans of Bacon aver (or one of them avers) that “Lord Penzance,
Lord Beaconsfield, Lord Palmerston, Judge Webb, Judge Holmes (of
Kentucky, U.S.), Prince Bismarck, John Bright, and innumerable most
thoughtful scholars eminent in many walks of life,
and especially in the legal profession
. . . ” have been Baconians, or, at least, opposed to Will
Shakspere’s authorship. To these names of scholars I must add
that of my late friend, Samuel Clemens, D.Litt. of Oxford; better
known to many as Mark Twain. Dr. Clemens was, indeed, no mean
literary critic; witness his epoch-making study of Prof. Dowden’s
Life of Shelley,
while his researches into the biography of Jeanne d’Arc were most
conscientious.With
the deepest respect for the political wisdom and literary taste of
Lord Palmerston, Prince Bismarck, Lord Beaconsfield, and the late Mr.
John Bright; and with every desire to humble myself before the
judicial verdicts of Judges Holmes, Webb, and Lord Penzance; with
sincere admiration of my late friend, Dr. Clemens, I cannot regard
them as, in the first place and professionally, trained students of
literary history.They
were no more specially trained students of Elizabethan literature
than myself; they were amateurs in this province, as I am an amateur,
who differ from all of them in opinion. Difference of opinion
concerning points of literary history ought not to make “our angry
passions rise.” Yet this controversy has been extremely
bitter.I
abstain from quoting the “sweetmeats,” in Captain MacTurk’s
phrase, which have been exchanged by the combatants. Charges of
ignorance and monomania have been answered by charges of forgery,
lying, “scandalous literary dishonesty,” and even inaccuracy.
Now no mortal is infallibly accurate, but we are all sane and
“indifferent honest.” There have been forgeries in matters
Shakespearean, alas, but not in connection with the Baconian
controversy.It
is an argument of the Baconians, and generally of the impugners of
good Will’s authorship of the plays vulgarly attributed to him,
that the advocates of William Shakspere, Gent, as author of the
plays, differ like the Kilkenny cats among themselves on many
points. All do not believe, with Mr. J. C. Collins, that Will
knew Sophocles, Euripides, and Æschylus (but not Aristophanes) as
well as Mr. Swinburne did, or knew them at all—for that matter.
Mr. Pollard differs very widely from Sir Sidney Lee on points
concerning the First Folio and the Quartos: my sympathies are with
Mr. Pollard. Few, if any, partisans of Will agree with Mrs.
Stopes (herself no Baconian) about the history of the Stratford
monument of the poet. About Will’s authorship of
Titus Andronicus,
and Henry VI,
Part I, the friends of Will, like the friends of Bacon, are at odds
among themselves. These and other divergencies of opinion cause
the Baconians to laugh, as if
they were a
harmonious circle . . . ! For the Baconian camp is not less
divided against itself than the camp of the “Stratfordians.”
Not all Baconians hold that Bacon was the legitimate son of “that
Imperial votaress” Queen Elizabeth. Not all believe in the
Cryptogram of Mr. Ignatius Donnelly, or in any other cryptograms.
Not all maintain that Bacon, in the Sonnets, was inspired by a
passion for the Earl of Essex, for Queen Elizabeth, or for an early
miniature of himself. Not all regard him as the author of the
plays of Kit Marlowe. Not all suppose him to be a Rosicrucian,
who possibly died at the age of a hundred and six, or, perhaps, may
be “still running.” Not all aver that he wrote thirteen
plays before 1593. But one party holds that, in the main, Will
was the author of the plays, while the other party votes for Bacon—or
for Bungay, a Great Unknown. I use Bungay as an endearing term
for the mysterious being who was the Author if Francis Bacon was
not. Friar Bungay was the rival of Friar Bacon, as the Unknown
(if he was not Francis Bacon) is the rival of “the inventor of
Inductive reasoning.”I
could never have expected that I should take a part in this
controversy; but acquaintance with
The Shakespeare Problem Restated
(503 pp.), (1908), and later works of Mr. G. G. Greenwood, M.P., has
tempted me to enter the lists.Mr.
Greenwood is worth fighting; he is cunning of fence, is learned (and
I cannot conceal my opinion that Mr. Donnelly and Judge Holmes were
rather ignorant). He is not over “the threshold of Eld” (as
were Judge Webb and Lord Penzance when they took up Shakespearean
criticism). His knowledge of Elizabethan literature is vastly
superior to mine, for I speak merely, in Matthew Arnold’s words, as
“a belletristic trifler.”Moreover,
Mr. Greenwood, as a practising barrister, is a judge of legal
evidence; and, being a man of sense, does not “hold a brief for
Bacon” as the author of the Shakespearean plays and poems, and does
not value Baconian cryptograms. In the following chapters I
make endeavours, conscientious if fallible, to state the theory of
Mr. Greenwood. It is a negative theory. He denies that
Will Shakspere (or Shaxbere, or Shagspur, and so on) was the author
of the plays and poems. Some other party was,
in the main, with
other hands, the author. Mr. Greenwood cannot, or does not,
offer a guess as to who this ingenious Somebody was. He does
not affirm, and he does not deny, that Bacon had a share, greater or
less, in the undertaking.In
my brief tractate I have not room to consider every argument; to
traverse every field. In philology I am all unlearned, and
cannot pretend to discuss the language of Shakespeare, any more than
I can analyse the language of Homer into proto-Arcadian and Cyprian,
and so on. Again, I cannot pretend to have an opinion, based on
internal evidence, about the genuine Shakespearean character of such
plays as Titus
Andronicus,
Henry VI, Part I,
and Troilus and
Cressida.
About them different views are held
within both camps.I
am no lawyer or naturalist (as Partridge said,
Non omnia possumus omnes),
and cannot imagine why our Author is so accurate in his frequent use
of terms of law—if he be Will; and so totally at sea in natural
history—if he be Francis, who “took all knowledge for his
province.”How
can a layman pretend to deal with Shakespeare’s legal attainments,
after he has read the work of the learned Recorder of Bristol, Mr.
Castle, K.C.? To his legal mind it seems that in some of Will’s
plays he had the aid of an expert in law, and then his technicalities
were correct. In other plays he had no such tutor, and then he
was sadly to seek in his legal jargon. I understand Mr.
Greenwood to disagree on this point. Mr. Castle says, “I
think Shakespeare would have had no difficulty in getting aid from
several sources. There is therefore no
prima facie reason
why we should suppose the information was supplied by Bacon.”Of
course there is not!
“In
fact, there are some reasons why one should attribute the legal
assistance, say, to Coke, rather than to Bacon.”The
truth is, that Bacon seems not to have been lawyer enough for Will’s
purposes. “We have no reason to believe that Bacon was
particularly well read in the technicalities of our law; he never
seems to have seriously followed his profession.”
[0a]Now
we have Mr. Greenwood’s testimonial in favour of Mr. Castle, “Who
really does know something about law.”
[0b]
Mr. Castle thinks that Bacon really did not know enough about law,
and suggests Sir Edward Coke, of all human beings, as conceivably
Will’s “coach” on legal technicalities. Perhaps Will
consulted the Archbishop of Canterbury on theological niceties?Que
sçais je? In
some plays, says Mr. Castle, Will’s law is all right, in other
plays it is all wrong. As to Will’s law, when Mr. Greenwood
and Mr. Castle differ, a layman dare not intervene.Concerning
legend and tradition about our Will, it seems that, in each case, we
should do our best to trace the
Quellen, to
discover the original sources, and the steps by which the tale
arrived at its late recorders in print; and then each man’s view as
to the veracity of the story will rest on his sense of probability;
and on his bias, his wish to believe or to disbelieve.There
exists, I believe, only one personal anecdote of Will, the actor, and
on it the Baconians base an argument against the contemporary
recognition of him as a dramatic author. I take the criticism
of Mr. Greenwood (who is not a Baconian). One John Manningham,
Barrister-at-Law, “a well-educated and cultured man,” notes in
his Diary (February 2, 1601) that “at our feast we had a play
called Twelve Night or What you Will, much like the Comedy of Errors,
or Menæchmi in Plautus, but most like and near to that in Italian
called Inganni.”
He confides to his Diary the tricks played on Malvolio as “a good
practice.”
[0c]
That is all.About
the authorship he says nothing: perhaps he neither knew nor cared who
the author was. In our day the majority of people who tell me
about a play which they have seen, cannot tell me the name of the
author. Yet it is usually printed on the playbill, though in
modest type. The public does not care a straw about the
author’s name, unless he be deservedly famous for writing letters
to the newspapers on things in general; for his genius as an orator;
his enthusiasm as a moralist, or in any other extraneous way.
Dr. Forman in his queer account of the plot of “Mack Beth” does
not allude to the name of the author (April 20, 1610).
Twelfth Night was
not published till 1623, in the Folio: there was no quarto to
enlighten Manningham about the author’s name. We do not hear
of printed playbills, with author’s names inserted, at that
period. It seems probable that occasional playgoers knew and
cared no more about authors than they do at present. The world
of the wits, the critics (such as Francis Meres), poets, playwrights,
and players, did know and care about the authors; apparently
Manningham did not. But he heard a piquant anecdote of two
players and (March 13, 1601) inserted it in his Diary.Shakespeare
once anticipated Richard Burbage at an amorous tryst with a citizen’s
wife. Burbage had, by the way, been playing the part of Richard
III. While Will was engaged in illicit dalliance, the message
was brought (what a moment for bringing messages!) that Richard III
was at the door, and Will “caused return to be made that William
the Conqueror was before Richard III.
Shakespeare’s name William.”
(My italics.) Mr. Greenwood argues that if “Shakspere the
player was known to the world as the author of the plays of
Shakespeare, it does seem extremely remarkable” that Manningham
should have thought it needful to add “Shakespeare’s name
William.”
[0d]But
was “Shakspere,”
or any man, “known to the world as the author of the plays of
Shakespeare”? No! for Mr. Greenwood writes, “nobody,
outside a very small circle, troubled his head as to who the
dramatist or dramatists might be.”
[0e]
To that “very small circle” we have no reason to suppose that
Manningham belonged, despite his remarkable opinion that
Twelfth Night
resembles the
Menæchmi.
Consequently, it is
not “extremely
remarkable” that Manningham wrote “Shakespeare’s name William,”
to explain to posterity the joke about “William the Conqueror,”
instead of saying, “the brilliant author of the Twelfth Night play
which so much amused me at our feast a few weeks ago.”
[0f]
“Remarkable” out of all hooping it would have been had Manningham
written in the style of Mr. Greenwood. But Manningham
apparently did not “trouble his head as to who the dramatist or
dramatists might be.” “Nobody, outside a very small
circle,” did
trouble his poor head about that point. Yet Mr. Greenwood
thinks “it does seem extremely remarkable” that Manningham did
not mention the author.Later,
on the publication of the Folio (1623), the world seems to have taken
more interest in literary matters. Mr. Greenwood says that then
while “the multitude” would take Ben Jonson’s noble panegyric
on Shakespeare as a poet “au
pied de la lettre,”
“the enlightened few would recognise that it had an esoteric
meaning.”
[0g]
Then, it seems, “the world”—the “multitude”—regarded the
actor as the author. Only “the enlightened few” were aware
that when Ben said
“Shakespeare,” and “Swan of Avon,” he
meant—somebody
else.Quite
different inferences are drawn from the same facts by persons of
different mental conditions. For example, in 1635 or 1636,
Cuthbert Burbage, brother of Richard, the famous actor, Will’s
comrade, petitioned Lord Pembroke, then Lord Chamberlain, for
consideration in a quarrel about certain theatres. Telling the
history of the houses, he mentions that the Burbages “to ourselves
joined those deserving men, Shakspere, Heminge, Condell, Phillips and
others.” Cuthbert is arguing his case solely from the point
of the original owners or lease-holders of the houses, and of the
well-known actors to whom they joined themselves. Judge Webb
and Mr. Greenwood think that “it does indeed seem strange . . .
that the proprietor[s] of the playhouses which had been made famous
by the production of the Shakespearean plays, should, in 1635—twelve
years after the publication of the great Folio—describe their
reputed author to the survivor of the Incomparable Pair, as merely a
‘man-player’ and ‘a deserving man.’” Why did he not
remind the Lord Chamberlain that this “deserving man” was the
author of all these famous dramas? Was it because he was aware
that the Earl of Pembroke “knew better than that”?
[0h]These
arguments are regarded by some Baconians as proof positive of their
case.Cuthbert
Burbage, in 1635 or 1636, did not remind the Earl of what the Earl
knew very well, that the Folio had been dedicated, in 1623, to him
and his brother, by Will’s friends, Heminge and Condell, as they
had been patrons of the late William Shakspere and admirers of his
plays. The terms of this dedication are to be cited in the
text, later.
We all
now would have
reminded the Earl of what he very well knew. Cuthbert did not.The
intelligence of Cuthbert Burbage may be gauged by anyone who will
read pp. 481–484 in
William Shakespeare,
His Family and Friends,
by the late Mr. Charles Elton, Q.C., of White Staunton.
Cuthbert was a puzzle-pated old boy. The silence as to Will’s
authorship on the part of this muddle-headed old Cuthbert, in
1635–36, cannot outweigh the explicit and positive public testimony
to his authorship, signed by his friends and fellow-actors in 1623.Men
believe what they may; but I prefer positive evidence for the
affirmative to negative evidence from silence, the silence of
Cuthbert Burbage.One
may read through Mr. Greenwood’s three books and note the engaging
varieties of his views; they vary as suits his argument; but he is
unaware of it, or can justify his varyings. Thus, in 1610, one
John Davies wrote rhymes in which he speaks of “our English
Terence, Mr. Will Shakespeare”; “good Will.” In his
period patriotic English critics called a comic dramatist “the
English Terence,” or “the English Plautus,” precisely as
American critics used to call Mr. Bryant “the American Wordsworth,”
or Cooper “the American Scott”; and as Scots called the Rev. Mr.
Thomson “the Scottish Turner.” Somewhere, I believe, exists
“the Belgian Shakespeare.”Following
this practice, Davies had to call Will either “our English
Terence,” or “our English Plautus.” Aristophanes would
not have been generally recognised; and Will was no more like one of
these ancient authors than another. Thus Davies was apt to
choose either Plautus or Terence; it was even betting which he
selected. But he chanced to choose Terence; and this is
“curious,” and suggests suspicions to Mr. Greenwood—and the
Baconians. They are so very full of suspicions!It
does not suit the Baconians, or Mr. Greenwood, to find contemporary
recognition of Will as an author.
[0i]
Consequently, Mr. Greenwood finds Davies’s “curious, and at first
sight, inappropriate comparison of ‘Shake-speare’ to Terence
worthy of remark, for Terence is the very author whose name is
alleged to have been used as a mask-name, or
nom de plume, for
the writings of great men who wished to keep the fact of their
authorship concealed.”Now
Davies felt bound to bring in
some Roman parallel
to Shakespeare; and had only the choice of Terence or Plautus.
Meres (1598) used Plautus; Davies used Terence. Mr. Greenwood
[0j]
shows us that Plautus would not do. “Could
he” (Shakespeare)
“write only of courtesans and
cocottes, and not
of ladies highly born, cultured, and refined? . . . ”
“The
supposed parallel” (Plautus and Shakespeare) “breaks down at
every point.” Thus, on Mr. Greenwood’s showing, Plautus
could not serve Davies, or should not serve him, in his search for a
Roman parallel to “good Will.” But Mr. Greenwood also
writes, “if he” (Shakespeare) “was to be likened to a Latin
comedian, surely Plautus is the writer with whom he should have been
compared.”
[0k]
Yet Plautus was the very man who cannot be used as a parallel to
Shakespeare. Of course no Roman nor any other comic dramatist
closely resembles the
author of
As You Like It.
They who selected either Plautus or Terence meant no more than that
both were celebrated comic dramatists. Plautus was no parallel
to Will. Yet “surely Plautus is the author to whom he should
have been compared” by Davies, says Mr. Greenwood. If Davies
tried Plautus, the comparison was bad; if Terence, it was “curious,”
as Terence was absurdly accused of being the “nom
de plume” of some
great “concealed poets” of Rome. “From all the known
facts about Terence,” says a Baconian critic (who has consulted
Smith’s
Biographical Dictionary),
“it is an almost unavoidable inference that John Davies made the
comparison to Shakspere because he knew of the point common to both
cases.” The common point is taken to be, not that both men
were famous comic dramatists, but that Roman literary gossips said,
and that Baconians and Mr. Greenwood say, that “Terence” was said
to be a “mask-name,” and that “Shakespeare” is a mask-name.
Of the second opinion there is not a hint in literature of the time
of good Will.What
surprises one most in this controversy is that men eminent in the
legal profession should be “anti-Shakesperean,” if not overtly
Baconian. For the evidence for the contemporary faith in Will’s
authorship is all positive; from his own age comes not a whisper of
doubt, not even a murmur of surprise. It is incredible to me
that his fellow-actors and fellow-playwrights should have been
deceived, especially when they were such men as Ben Jonson and Tom
Heywood. One would expect lawyers, of all people, to have been
most impatient of the surprising attempts made to explain away Ben
Jonson’s testimony, by aid, first, of quite a false analogy
(Scott’s denial of his own authorship of his novels), and,
secondly, by the suppression of such a familiar fact as the constant
inconsistency of Ben’s judgments of his contemporaries in
literature. Mr. Greenwood must have forgotten the many examples
of this inconsistency; but I have met a Baconian author who knew
nothing of the fact. Mr. Greenwood, it is proper to say, does
not seem to be satisfied that he has solved what he calls “the
Jonsonian riddle.” Really, there is no riddle. About
Will, as about other authors, his contemporaries and even his
friends, on occasion, Ben “spoke with two voices,” now in terms
of hyperbolical praise, now in carping tones of censure. That
is the obvious solution of “the Jonsonian riddle.”I
must apologise if I have in places spelled the name of the Swan of
Avon “Shakespeare” where Mr. Greenwood would write “Shakspere,”
and vice versa.
He uses “Shakespeare” where he means the Author; “Shakspere”
where he means Will; and is vexed with some people who write the name
of Will as “Shakespeare.” As Will, in the opinion of a
considerable portion of the human race, and of myself,
was the Author, one
is apt to write his name as “Shakespeare” in the usual way.
But difficult cases occur, as in quotations, and in conditional
sentences. By any spelling of the name I always mean the
undivided personality of “Him who sleeps by Avon.”
I THE BACONIAN AND ANTI-WILLIAN
POSITIONS
Till the years 1856–7 no voice was
raised against the current belief about Shakespeare (1564–1616). He
was the author in the main of the plays usually printed as his. In
some cases other authors, one or more, may have had fingers in his
dramas; in other cases, Shakespeare may have “written over” and
transfigured earlier plays, of himself and of others; he may have
contributed, more or less, to several plays mainly by other men.
Separately printed dramas published during his time carry his name
on their title-pages, but are not included in the first collected
edition of his dramas, “The First Folio,” put forth by two of his
friends and fellow-actors, in 1623, seven years after his
death.On all these matters did commentators, critics, and
antiquarians for long dispute; but none denied that the actor, Will
Shakspere (spelled as heaven pleased), was in the main the author
of most of the plays of 1623, and the sole author ofVenus and Adonis,Lucrece, and the Sonnets.Even now, in England at least, it would be perhaps impossible
to find one special and professed student of Elizabethan
literature, and of the classical and European literatures, who does
not hold by the ancient belief, the belief of Shakespeare’s
contemporaries and intimates, the belief that he was, in the sense
explained above, the author of the plays.But ours is not a generation to be overawed by “Authority”
(as it is called). A small but eager company of scholars have
convinced themselves that Francis Bacon wrote the Shakespearean
plays. That is the point of agreement among these enthusiasts:
points of difference are numerous: some very wild little sects
exist. Meanwhile multitudes of earnest and intelligent men and
women, having read notices in newspapers of the Baconian books, or
heard of them at lectures and tea-parties, disbelieve in the
authorship of “the Stratford rustic,” and look down on the faithful
of Will Shakespere with extreme contempt.From the Baconians we receive a plain straightforward theory,
“Bacon wrote Shakespeare,” as one of their own prophets has
said.[4a]Since we
have plenty of evidence for Bacon’s life and occupations during the
period of Shakespearean poetic activity, we can compare what he was
doing as a man, a student, a Crown lawyer, a pleader in the Courts,
a political pamphleteer, essayist, courtier, active member of
Parliament, and so on, with what he is said to have been doing—by
the Baconians; namely, writing two dramas yearly.But there is another “Anti-Willian” theory, which would
dethrone Will Shakspere, and put but a Shadow in his place.
Conceive a “concealed poet,” of high social position, contemporary
with Bacon and Shakespeare. Let him be so fond of the Law that he
cannot keep legal “shop” out of his love Sonnets even. Make him a
courtier; a statesman; a philosopher; a scholar who does not blench
even from the difficult Latin of Ovid and Plautus. Let this almost
omniscient being possess supreme poetic genius, extensive classical
attainments, and a tendency to make false quantities. Then conceive
him to live through the reigns of “Eliza and our James,” without
leaving in history, in science, in society, in law, in politics or
scholarship, a single trace of his existence. He left nothing but
the poems and plays usually attributed to Will. As to the date of
his decease, we only know that it must necessarily have been later
than the composition of the last genuine Shakespearean play—for
this paragon wrote it.Such is the Being who occupies, in the theory of the
non-Baconian,but not Anti-Baconian, Anti-Willians, the intellectual throne filled, in the Will
Shakespeare theory, by Will; and in the Baconian, by Bacon—two
kings of Brentford on one throne.We are to be much engaged by the form of this theory which is
held by Mr. G. G. Greenwood in hisThe Shakespeare
Problem Restated. In attempting to explain what
he means I feel that I am skating on very thin ice. Already, in two
volumes (In Re Shakespeare,
1909, andThe Vindicators of
Shakespeare), Mr. Greenwood has accused his
critics of frequently misconceiving and misrepresenting his ideas:
wherefore I also tremble. I am perfectly confident in saying that
he “holds no brief for the Baconians.” He isnota Baconian. His position is
negative merely: Will of Stratford isnotthe author of the Shakespearean
plays and poems. Then who is? Mr. Greenwood believes that work by
an unknown number of hands exists in the plays first published all
together in 1623. Here few will differ from him. But, setting aside
this aspect of the case, Mr. Greenwood appears to me to believe in
an entity named “Shakespeare,” or “the Author,” who is the
predominating partner; though Mr. Greenwood does not credit him
with all the plays in the Folio of 1623 (nor, perhaps, with the
absolute entirety of any given play). “The Author” or “Shakespeare”
is not a syndicate (like the Homer of many critics), but an
individual human being, apparently of the male sex. As to the name
by which he was called on earth, Mr. Greenwood is “agnostic.” He
himself is not Anti-Baconian. He does not oust Bacon and put the
Unknown in his place. He neither affirms nor denies that Bacon may
have contributed, more or less, to the bulk of Shakespearean work.
To put it briefly: Mr. Greenwood backs the field against the
favourite (our Will), and Baconmaybe in the field. If he has any part in the whole I suspect
that it is “the lion’s part,” but Mr. Greenwood does not commit
himself to anything positive. We shall find (if I am not mistaken)
that Mr. Greenwood regards the hypothesis of the Baconians as “an
extremely reasonable one,”[7a]and that
for his purposes it would be an extremely serviceable one, if not
even essential. For as Bacon was a genius to whose potentialities
one can set no limit, he is something to stand by, whereas we
cannot easily believe—I cannot believe—that the actual “Author,”
the “Shakespeare” lived and died and left no trace of his existence
except his share in the works called Shakespearean.However, the idea of the Great Unknown has, for its
partisans, this advantage, that as the life of the august Shade is
wholly unknown, we cannot, as in Bacon’s case, show how he was
occupied while the plays were being composed. Hemust, however, have been much at
Court, we learn, and deep in the mysteries of legal terminology.
Was he Sir Edward Coke? Was he James VI and I?It is hard, indeed, to set forth the views of the Baconians
and of the “Anti-Willians” in a shape which will satisfy them. The
task, especially when undertaken by an unsympathetic person, is
perhaps impossible. I can only summarise their views in my own
words as far as I presume to understand them. I conceive the
Baconians to cry that “the world possesses a mass of transcendent
literature, attributed to a man named WilliamShakespeare.” Of a man named
WilliamShakspere(there are
many varieties of spelling) we certainly know that he was born
(1564) and bred in Stratford-on-Avon, a peculiarly dirty, stagnant,
and ignorant country town. There is absolutely no evidence that he
(or any Stratford boy of his standing) ever went to Stratford
school. His father, his mother, and his daughter could not write,
but, in signing, made their marks; and if he could write, which
some of us deny, he wrote a terribly bad hand. As far as late
traditions of seventy or eighty years after his death inform us, he
was a butcher’s apprentice; and also a schoolmaster “who knew Latin
pretty well”; and a poacher. He made, before he was nineteen, a
marriage tainted with what Meg Dods calls “ante-nup.” He early had
three children, whom he deserted, as he deserted his wife. He came
to London, we do not know when (about 1582, according to the
“guess” of an antiquary of 1680); held horses at the door of a
theatre (so tradition says), was promoted to the rank of “servitor”
(whatever that may mean), became an actor (a vagabond under the
Act), and by 1594 played before Queen Elizabeth. He put money in
his pocket (heaven knows how), for by 1597 he was bargaining for
the best house in his nativebourgade. He obtained, by nefarious genealogical falsehoods (too
common, alas, in heraldry), the right to bear arms; and went on
acting. In 1610–11 (?) he retired to his native place. He never
took any interest in his unprinted manuscript plays; though
rapacious, he never troubled himself about his valuable copyrights;
never dreamed of making a collected edition of his works. He died
in 1616, probably of drink taken. Legal documents prove him to have
been a lender of small sums, an avid creditor, a would-be encloser
of commons. In his will he does not bequeath or mention any books,
manuscripts, copyrights, and so forth. It is utterly incredible,
then, that this man wrote the poems and plays, so rich in poetry,
thought, scholarship, and knowledge, which are attributed to
“William Shakespeare.” These must be the works of “a concealed
poet,” a philosopher, a courtier moving in the highest circles, a
supreme legist, and, necessarily, a great poet, and student of the
classics.No known person of the age but one, Bacon, was a genius, a
legist, a scholar, a great poet, and brilliant courtier, with all
the other qualifications so the author of the plays either was
Francis Bacon—or some person unknown, who was in all respects
equally distinguished, but kept his light under a bushel.
Consequently the name “William Shakespeare” is a pseudonym or
“pen-name” wisely adopted by Bacon (or the other man) as early as
1593, at a time when William Shakspere was notoriously an actor in
the company which produced the plays of the genius styling himself
“William Shakespeare.”Let me repeat that, to the best of my powers of understanding
and of expression, and in my own words, so as to misquote nobody, I
have now summarised the views of the Baconianssans phrase, and of the more cautious
or more credulous “Anti-Willians,” as I may style the party who
deny to Will the actor any share in the authorship of the plays,
but do not overtly assign it to Francis Bacon.Beyond all comparison the best work on the Anti-Willian side
of the controversy isThe Shakespeare Problem
Restated, by Mr. G. G. Greenwood (see my
Introduction). To this volume I turn for the exposition of the
theory that “Will Shakspere” (with many other spellings) is an
actor from the country—a man of very scanty education, in all
probability, and wholly destitute of books; while “William
Shakespeare,” or with the hyphen, “Shake-speare,” is a “nom de plume” adopted by the Great
Unknown “concealed poet.”When I use the word “author” here, I understand Mr. Greenwood
to mean that in the plays called “Shakespearean” there exists work
from many pens: owing to the curious literary manners, methods, and
ethics of dramatic writing in, say, 1589–1611. In my own poor
opinion this is certainly true of several plays in the first
collected edition, “The Folio,” produced seven years after Will’s
death, namely in 1623. These curious “collective” methods of
play-writing are to be considered later.Matters become much more perplexing when we examine the
theory that “William Shake-speare” (with or without the hyphen), on
the title-pages of plays, or when signed to the dedications of
poems, is the chosen pen-name, or “nom de
plume,” of Bacon or of the Unknown.Here I must endeavour to summarise what Mr. Greenwood has
written[11a]on the
name of the actor, and the “nom de
plume” of the unknown author who, by the theory,
was not the actor. Let me first confess my firm belief that there
is no cause for all the copious writing about the spellings
“Shakespeare” or “Shake-speare”—as indicating the true but
“concealed poet”—and “Shakspere” (&c.), as indicating the
Warwickshire rustic. At Stratford and in Warwickshire the clan-name
was spelled in scores of ways, was spelled in different ways within
a single document. If the actor himself uniformly wrote “Shakspere”
(it seems that we have but five signatures), he was accustomed to
seeing the name spelled variously in documents concerning him and
his affairs. In London the printers aimed at a kind of uniformity,
“Shakespeare” or “Shake-speare”: and even if he wrote his own name
otherwise, to him it was indifferent. Lawyers and printers might
choose their own mode of spelling—and there is no more in the
matter.I must now summarise briefly, in my own words, save where
quotations are indicated in the usual way, the results of Mr.
Greenwood’s researches. “The family of William Shakspere of
Stratford” (perhaps it were safer to say “the members of his name”)
“wrote their name in many different ways—some sixty, I believe,
have been noted . . . but the form ‘Shakespeare’ seems never to
have been employed by them”; and, according to Mr. Spedding,
“Shakspere of Stratford never so wrote his name ‘in any known
case.’” (According to many Baconians he never wrote his name in his
life.) On the other hand, the dedications ofVenus
and Adonis(1593) and ofLucrece(1594) are inscribed “William
Shakespeare” (without the hyphen). In 1598, the title-page
ofLove’s Labour’s Lost“bore
the name W. Shakespere,” while in the same yearRichard IIandRichard
IIIbear “William Shake-speare,” with the hyphen
(not without it, as in the two dedications by the Author). “The
name which appears in the body of the conveyance and of the
mortgage bearing” (the actor’s) “signature is ‘Shakespeare,’ while
‘Shackspeare’ appears in the will, prepared, as we must presume, by
or under the directions of Francis Collyns, the Stratford
solicitor, who was one of the witnesses thereto” (and received a
legacy of £13, 6s.8d.).Thus, at Stratford even, the name was spelled, in legal
papers, as it is spelled in the two dedications, and in most of the
title-pages—and also is spelled otherwise, as “Shackspeare.” In
March 1594 the actor’s name is spelled “Shakespeare” in Treasury
accounts. The legal and the literary and Treasury spellings (and
conveyances and mortgages and wills arenotliterature) are Shakespeare,
Shackspeare, Shake-speare, Shakespere—all four are used, but we
must regard the actor as never signing “Shakespeare” in any of
these varieties of spelling—if sign he ever did; at all events he
is not known to have used theain the last syllable.I now give the essence of Mr. Greenwood’s words[13a]concerning thenom de plumeof the “concealed poet,” whoever he was.
“And now a word upon the name ‘Shakespeare.’ That in this
form, and more especially with a hyphen, Shake-speare, the word
makes an excellentnom de plumeis obvious. As old Thomas Fuller remarks, the name
suggestsMartialin its warlike
sound, ‘Hasti-vibrans or Shake-speare.’ It is of course further
suggestive of Pallas Minerva, the goddess of Wisdom, for Pallas
also was a spear-shaker (Pallas ὰπὸ του πάλλειν τὸ δόρυ); and all
will remember Ben Jonson’s verses . . . ” on Shakespeare’s
“true-filed lines”—
“In each of which he seems to shake a lance,As brandished at the eyes of ignorance.”There is more about Pallas in book-titles (to which additions
can easily be made), and about “Jonson’s Cri-spinus or Cri-spinas,”
but perhaps we have now the gist of Mr. Greenwood’s remarks on the
“excellentnom de plume”
(cf.pp. 31–37. On the whole of
this,cf. The Shakespeare Problem
Restated, pp. 293–295; anom de
plumecalled a “pseudonym,” pp. 307, 312;
Shakespeare “a mask name,” p. 328; a “pseudonym,” p. 330; “nom de plume,” p. 335).Now why was the “nom de plume” or “pseudonym” “William Shakespeare” “an excellentnom de plume” for a concealed author,
courtier, lawyer, scholar, and so forth? If “Shakespeare” suggested
Pallas Athene, goddess of wisdom and of many other things, and so
was appropriate, why add “William”?In 1593, when the “pseudonym” first appears inVenus and Adonis, a country actor
whose name, in legal documents—presumably drawn up by or for his
friend, Francis Collyns at Stratford—is written “William
Shakespeare,” was before the town as an actor in the leading
company, that of the Lord Chamberlain. This company produced the
plays some of which, by 1598, bear “W. Shakespere,” or “William
Shakespeare” on their title-pages. Thus, even if the actor
habitually spelled his name “Shakspere,” “William Shakespeare” was,
practically (on the Baconian theory), not only a pseudonym of one
man, a poet, but also the real name of another man, a well-known
actor, who wasnotthe
“concealed poet.”
“William Shakespeare” or “Shakespere” was thus, in my view,
the ideally worst pseudonym which a poet who wished to be
“concealed” could possibly have had the fatuity to select. His
plays and poems would be, as they were, universally attributed to
the actor, who is represented as a person conspicuously incapable
of writing them. With Mr. Greenwood’s arguments against the
certainty of this attribution I deal later.Had the actor been a man of rare wit, and of good education
and wide reading, the choice of name might have been judicious. A
“concealed poet” of high social standing, with a strange fancy for
rewriting the plays of contemporary playwrights, might obtain the
manuscript copies from their owners, the Lord Chamberlain’s
Company, through that knowledgeable, witty, and venal member of the
company, Will Shakspere. He might then rewrite and improve them,
more or less, as it was his whim to do. The actor might make fair
copies in his own hand, give them to his company, and say that the
improved works were from his own pen and genius. The lie might
pass, but only if the actor, in his life and witty talk, seemed
very capable of doing what he pretended to have done. But if the
actor, according to some Baconians, could not write even his own
name, he was impossible as a mask for the poet. He was also
impossible, I think, if he were what Mr. Greenwood describes him to
be.Mr. Greenwood, in his view of the actor as he was when he
came to London, does not deny to him the gift of being able to sign
his name. But, if he were educated at Stratford Free School (of
which there is no documentary record), according to Mr.
Halliwell-Phillipps “he was removed from school long before the
usual age,” “in all probability” when “he was about thirteen” (an
age at which some boys, later well known, went up to their
universities). If we send him to school at seven or so, “it appears
that he could only have enjoyed such advantages as it may be
supposed to have provided for a period of five or six years at the
outside. He was then withdrawn, and, as it seems, put to
calf-slaughtering.”[16a]What the advantages may have been we try to estimate
later.Mr. Greenwood, with Mr. Halliwell-Phillipps, thinks that Will
“could have learned but little there. No doubt boys at Elizabethan
grammar schools, if they remained long enough, had a good deal of
Latin driven into them. Latin, indeed, was the one subject that was
taught; and an industrious boy who had gone through the course and
attained to the higher classes would generally be able to write
fair Latin prose. But he would learn very little else” (except to
write fair Latin prose?). “What we now call ‘culture’ certainly did
not enter into the ‘curriculum,’ nor ‘English,’ nor modern
languages, nor ‘literature.’”[17a]Mr.
Halliwell-Phillipps says that “removed prematurely from school,
residing with illiterate relatives in a bookless neighbourhood,
thrown into the midst of occupations adverse to scholastic
progress—it is difficult to believe that when he first left
Stratford he was not all but destitute of polished
accomplishments.”[17b]Mr.
Greenwood adds the apprenticeship to a butcher or draper, but
doubts the poaching, and the frequent whippings and imprisonments,
as in the story told by the Rev. R. Davies in 1708.[17c]That this promising young man, “when he came to London, spoke
the Warwickshire dialect orpatoisis, then, as certain as anything can be that is incapable of
mathematical proof.”[17d]“Here is
the young Warwic [...]