Transcribed from the 1888 Henry Gray edition by David Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org
WILLIAM SHAKESPERE,
OF
STRATFORD-ON-AVON.
His Epitaph Unearthed,
AND THE
Author of the Plays run to Ground.
WITH SUPPLEMENT.
BY
SCOTT SURTEES.
LONDON:
HENRY GRAY, 47, LEICESTER SQUARE.
1888.
Price in Cloth, 2s. By Post, 2s. 2d.
Shakespere’s Early Home.
Shakespere’s Chairs.
Strange Form of Marriage Licence.
Shakespere’s Later Home at New Place.
Who Wrote Shakespeare’s Plays? A Guess at the Truth.
Mr. Donnelly and the Cryptogram, with Supplement and Notes on Various Subjects.
BY
REV. SCOTT SURTEES,
OF
Dinsdale-on-Tees.
CHAPTER I.
William Shakespere’s Epitaphs and Chairs at Stratford-on-Avon.
There is one point above all others which bears strongly against the theory that William Shakspere, of Stratford-on-Avon, was the author of the so-called Shakespeare’s Plays, and that is the audacious doggerel which has been fathered on his memory. William Shakspere, after a disreputable youth, marrying at 17 or 18 a woman many years older than himself, whose child was soon after born, the son of a father who could not write his name, and in debt and difficulty, and who himself (père) had been within the clutches of the law, found his native place too hot to hold him, and if the universal tradition on the subject is worth anything, having a warrant out against him for poaching, “flitted” to London, became a stage-player, went in for speculation in building a theatre, laid out his modest earnings judiciously, bought a house in his native place, another in London “within the precinct of the late Black Fryers,” retired to New Place, died, and was buried in the church of that dirty town, in 1616, in the chancel, and his epitaph inscribed at his request upon his tomb. He appears to have been in the habit of writing or quoting such, and got the credit for this sort of poetry from his companions. It is plain from the evidence I produce (p. 7) that in and about those years it was the custom in London churches to put verses of questionable merit on monuments and tombs, that it was usual to “crib” or copy them from some one else, and use them as their own. The instances I give (and their name is legion) shows this clearly to have been an every-day practice. The play-actor, with a memory sharpened “by learning his parts,” had no doubt seen them on the walls of churches during his residence in London, and was in the habit of repeating and passing off as his own these doggerel rhymes for the edification and amusement of his companions and select friends; but when asked to give them an extempore one (evidently there was a leetle doubt as to his powers of composition), knocked off one or two much inferior to those his memory had retained (p. 11). What a specimen of their high literary taste and also of his own, requesting to have such rubbish inscribed upon his grave! No doubt there were many other such-like epitaphs in churches in London which have been destroyed or effaced by lapse of time, but these are a sufficient specimen to show how little variation there is in them, and that mainly in the spelling. The epitaph on the stone over Shakspere’s grave has been pressed into the service by a believer in his writings to prove—first, that he “curst those who should move his bones,” because that he was fearful that when his renown was acknowledged, his bones would be moved from their last resting-place in the Stratford that he loved, to find a grave (they have a monument) in Westminster Abbey! and secondly, by a non-believer, that when the imposture was found out, they would be exhumed and cast out to the four winds of heaven! But how about poor “Virginea optima vita El. 21,” whose Covent Garden grave had on its surface the same curse “for he that moves my bones”? Did her people fear that some after-scandal might occur to show that she was no better than Ann Hathway or Jane Shore, and her ashes be scattered in the swollen flood of the Fleet stream! or that an unknown princess or poetess unrecognised, cared not for a niche in Poet’s Corner or a sepulchre amongst the great ones of the land, should her real self and character ever be found out! In searching for epitaphs of a similar style I found the following, which I give as illustrative of what I have mentioned above. They are extracted from an ancient folio, 1736 A.D., The History of London, by William Maitland, F.R.S., which gives an account of the several parishes and churches.
Sarah Williams, ob. September, 1680.
Reader, stand still and spend a tear
Upon the dust that slumbers here;
And when thou readest, instead of me,
Think on the Glass that runs for thee.St. Paul’s, Shadwell.
John Jordan, 14th March, 1700.
Stand, Reader, and spend a tear,
And think on me who now lye here;
And whilest you read the state of me,
Think on the glass that runs for thee.St. Mary, Whitechapel.
Reader, stand still and spend a tear
Upon the dust that slumbers here;
And when thou readest, instead of me,
Think on the glass that runs for thee.St. Giles-in-the-Fields.
Another similar. No Name. St. Martins-in-the-Fields.
Mrs. Mary Morley. Another similar. Ratcliff, 1700 A.D.
Good friend, for Jesus’ sake forbear,
To dig the dust enclosed here;
Blest be the man that spares these stones,
And curst be he that moves my bones.Virginea Optima Vita El., aged 21, ob. 1700 A.D. St. Paul’s, Covent Garden.
When God was pleased (the world unwilling yet),
Helias James, to nature paid his debt;
And here reposes; as he lived he died,
The saying strongly in him verified—
Such life, such death, then a known truth to tell,
He lived a godly life, and died as well.
St. Andrew Wardrobe—St. Anne’s, Blackfriers, annexed thereto after the fire.
Joyce Rich, 1679, E. daughter of —
We two within this grave do lye,
Where we do rest together,
Until the Lord doth us awake,
And from the goats us sever.Ratcliff Hamlet.
Here lyes the body of William Wheatley, ob. 10th Nov. 1683.
Whoever treadeth on this stone,
I pray you tread most neatly;
For underneath the same doth lye,
Your honest friend, William Wheatley.Ratcliff Hamlet.
If any desire to be me nigh,
Pray let my bones in quiet ly,
Till Christ shall come in cloudy sky,
Who will us all both judge and try.Edward Norrys.
O ye, our friends, yat here pas by,
We beseech you to have us in memory;
Somtym we were as now ye be,
In tym to come ye shall be as we.Nathaniel Spencer, 1695.
Pray think on me as you pass by,
As you are now so once was I.St. James, Clerkenwell.
I have in my possession a Tour through England, by the Rev. R. Warner, in 1801; he gives an account which I have never seen alluded to, of a visit to Stratford-on-Avon. The mention of “cupboard, chair, and tobacco-stopper” is delightful. Vol. II. p. 272, Topographical Works of Rev. R. Warner, 1802. “On inquiring for the birth-place of our great poet, we were not a little surprised to be carried through a small butcher’s shop into a dirty back room; which, together with a miserable apartment above stairs, constituted the greater part of the house of his father, Mr. John Shakespeare, a wool-stapler, in the sixteenth century, where William was born April 23, 1564. Here are piously preserved the chair in which he sat, and the cupboard in which he kept his books. A tobacco-stopper also was shown us, said to be that which he had been accustomed to use for some years; but as we found this inestimable relic might have been purchased for 1s. 6d., and that parts of the chair and cupboard might be procured upon similar reasonable terms, we were as much inclined to give credit to their genuineness, as we had felt ourselves willing to believe the traditions of Guy Earl of Warwick, his shield, sword, and porridge-pot. Homely as the tenement was, however, we had much gratification in recollecting that it had been the birth-place of our great poet, and the scene where the first dawning of his gigantic intellect was displayed.”
“Shakespeare, you know, had quietly settled himself in his father’s trade of a wool-dealer, and to insure greater steadiness in his pursuit of business, had taken unto himself a wife, the daughter of one Hathaway, in the neighbourhood of Stratford. Good-nature or incaution, however, led him into the society of some idle youths, who committed occasional depredations in the parks of the surrounding gentry. Being detected in a nocturnal adventure of this kind upon the property of Sir Thomas Lucy, of Chalcot, near Stratford, he was prosecuted for the offence; and irritating the prosecutor to a still greater degree of violence, by an abusive ballad, he was under a necessity of avoiding the effects of the criminal process, by quitting his business and family at Stratford, and hiding himself in the Metropolis. Some instances of his poetical sarcasms are upon record, but local tradition confirms the assertion now made of their just application. They are written on John Coombe and his brother Tom, both notorious for penury and usury. The former, in a party at which Shakespeare was present, had sportively observed, that he apprehended the poet meant to write his epitaph in case he outlived him, but as he should lose the benefit of the composition if it were deferred till his death, he begged it might be done whilst he lived, that he might admire the tribute, and thank the writer; Shakespeare immediately presented him with the following lines:—
Ten in the hundred lies here engrav’d,
Tis a hundred to ten his soul is not sav’d;
If any man ask, ‘Who lies in this tomb?’
Oh! Oh! quoth the Devil, ’tis my John a Coomb.
“The epitaph upon the brother, whether called for or not, I cannot say, is of a similar spirit:
Thin in beard, and thick in purse,
Never man beloved worse;
He went to the grave with many a curse;
The devil and he had both one nurse.
“A flat stone, lying on the pavement over the place of his interment, has this inscription, said to have been written by Shakespeare for his own monument:
Good friend, for Jesus’ sake forbeare
To digg the dust encloased heare;
Blest be the man that spares these stones,
And curst be he that moves my bones.”
There is another also ascribed to him quoted in “Shakspere’s Poetry,” No. 6, Bacon Society Journal, p. 245, which, with the Goliath, makes up the number to five.
Epitaph on Elias James. [Mark the lost H.]
When God was pleased, the world unwilling yet,
Elias James to nature paid his debt,
And here reposeth, as he lived he died,
The saying in him strongly verified,
Such life, such death: then the known truth to tell,
He lived a godly lyfe and dyed as well.
The other account of a visit paid, and chair and relics bought, is taken from Samuel Ireland, London, 1795, a handsome volume of well-executed picturesque views of the Avon, and buildings connected with Shakesperian localities, which are generally made use of without acknowledgment.
“As such we shall conduct them to the humble cottage in which he first drew breath, on the 23rd of April, 1564.
“The annexed sketch of it was made in October, 1792. Part of these premises which belonged to Shakspeare are still occupied by a descendant of Joan Harte, sister to our Poet, who pursues the humble occupation of a butcher. His father Thomas Harte died about a year ago at the age of sixty-seven. The kitchen of this house has an appearance sufficiently interesting to command a place in this work, abstracted from its claim to notice as a relative to the bard. It is a subject very similar to those that so frequently employed the rare talents of Ostade, and therefore cannot be deemed unworthy of the pencil of an inferior artist. In the corner of the chimney stood an old oak chair, which had for a number of years received nearly as many adorers as the celebrated shrine of the Lady of Loretto. This relic was purchased in July, 1790, by the Princess Czartoryska, who made a journey to this place in order to obtain intelligence relative to Shakspeare; and being told he had often sat in this chair, she placed herself in it, and expressed an ardent wish to become a purchaser; but being informed that it was not to be sold at any price, she left a handsome gratuity to old Mrs. Harte, and left the place with apparent regret. About four months after, the anxiety of the Princess could no longer be withheld, and her secretary was despatched express, as the fit agent, to purchase this treasure at any rate; the sum of twenty guineas was the price fixed on, and the secretary and chair, with a proper certificate of its authenticity on stamped paper, set off in a chaise for London.” . . .
“In a lower room of the public-house, which is part of the premises wherein Shakspeare was born, is a curious ancient ornament over the chimney, relieved in plaster, which, from the date 1606, that was originally marked on it, was probably put up at the time, and possibly by the poet himself; although a rude attempt at historic representation, I have yet thought it worth copying. In 1759 it was repaired and painted in a variety of colours by the old Mr. Thomas Harte before mentioned, who assured me the motto then round it had been in the old black-letter, and dated 1606. The motto runs thus:
Golith comes with sword and spear,
And David with a sling;
Although Golith rage and sweare,
Down David doth him bring.
“Mr. Harte, of Stratford, before mentioned, told me there was an old oak chair, that had always in his remembrance been called Shakspeare’s courting chair, with a purse that had been likewise his, and handed down from him to his grand-daughter Lady Barnard, and from her through the Hathaway family to those of the present day. From the best information I was able to collect at the time, I was induced to consider this account as authentic, and from a wish to obtain the smallest trifle appertaining to our Shakspeare, I became a purchaser of these relics. Of the chair I have here given a sketch; it is of a date sufficiently ancient to justify the credibility of its history; and as to farther proof, it must rest on the traditional opinion and the character of this poor family.”
CHAPTER II.
Shakspere’s After-Residence at Stratford-on-Avon.
The nearest reliable authority we have for any story connected with William Shakspere is the Vicar of Stratford-on-Avon, a man of literary tastes, who kept a voluminous journal, and it is he who gives us the account of “as I have heard, Shakespeare, Drayton, and Ben Jonson had a merrie meeting, and it seems drank too hard, for Shakespeare died of a feavour there contracted” (was it at the house in Blackfriars? they are hardly all likely to have been at Stratford). Also in his Diary, “Remember to peruse Shakespeare’s plays and bee much versed in them, that I may not be ignorant in that matter. . . . Whether Dr. Heylin does well in reckoning up the dramatick poets which have been famous in England to omit Shakespeare?” Note here that Mr. Ward, although Vicar of the parish, and a man of high education, was not acquainted with the works of Shakespeare simply because he had not before realized the point that his parishioner, whose descendants and relatives lived in humble guise, was really the illustrious Shakespeare, whose praise was in all mouths, and that therefore it was not necessary he should be “up in them,” as they were not the subject of conversation in the town of his birth and youth and burial, clearly the pressure upon him to get them up came later on from without. He was not appointed to the Vicarage until 1662.
Diary of Rev. John Ward, from 1648 to 1679: “I have heard that Mr. Shakespeare was a natural wit, without any art at all,” and that is pretty well all the Vicar of his native place heard tell of him as a writer of these plays. He has nearly as much to say of “Edmund Alline, a stage-player, who founded the College of Dulwich.” “I have heard that Mr. Shakespeare was a natural wit without any art at all: hee frequented the plays all his younger time, but in his elder days lived at Stratford, and supplied the stage with two plays every year and for itt had an allowance so large that he spent at the rate of £1000 a year as I have heard.”—From Diary of Rev. John Ward. How came Shakespeare’s brother stage-player to be worth thousands, whilst the other’s income saved was only about £200 or at most £300 a year? Was he the trusted middle man, or Kemp, or both, in the secret?