IV MR. COLLINS ON SHAKESPEARE’S LEARNING
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.”