William and Susanna

by L E Pembroke

  *

  William, at times, mused about how frightful it would be to be a woman. Except for the daughters of the aristocracy who were at times taught by tutors in their homes, girls were not educated. Most were therefore illiterate and that included Anne Hathaway, his sister and almost all the womenfolk in Stratford. His own mother, signed her name with a running horse symbol and although she had come from a well-off family, no one thought it strange that she was illiterate. Of course women were educated in the necessary female daily tasks and many possessed expert herbal skills; and were often able to prescribe for their family potions and ointments which successfully warded off serious disease.

  Surely, he pondered, that was not enough to satisfy a woman, what must it feel like to be ignorant of history, to have no knowledge of books, poetry, indeed the written word. What must one feel about being unable to express oneself in words of more than one syllable? How empty one must feel without knowledge that stimulates the imagination. He shuddered when he thought of a human brain lying fallow, wasting away for want of literacy. Was it enough for women, he mused, to be at the beck and call of a man, to clean his home, surrender to his desires and produce his children? Although the thought of such a life appalled him, William had to admit most women seemed content enough. Perhaps they were quintessentially different from men - although not in one matter. In his experience, young women and not so young women, could be eminently passionate and many were innately skilled in the business of making a man feel like a lion amongst men.

  William was aware he was becoming almost insane in his desire for Anne. She was always on his mind. He gave little thought to the probable consequences of his passion. Each night, when his parents and the younger children went to their beds, he lay awake in the room he shared with Gilbert awaiting the dimming of the rush lamps and the murmur of somnolent breathing.

  Anne shared her news with him in September. He shouldn’t have been shocked, but he was. He had been totally unrealistic believing that somehow Anne, being that much older, knew how to prevent the conception of a child. He was too young to have a child. He didn’t want marriage and children.

  ‘We should be wed,’ she said, ‘you will need to speak to your parents.’ He didn’t reply. He procrastinated for several weeks during which time, angry with himself and resentful of her, he almost completely lost his desire for her. Finally, one day in October, he accepted he could wait no longer. He went to the main section of the warehouse to share his news with his father.

  John drew in his breath sharply. ‘I might have known, Anne Hathaway is an over-ripe plum and you, a young lad with no sense who has fallen into her trap. Your mother will insist you marry.’

  ‘I don’t want to marry, father.’

  ‘You’ll not be the first man to think thus, William, but we must all pay for our pleasures.’

  As they anticipated, Mary, lips tightly pursed with suppressed anger, insisted the couple marry as soon as arrangements could be made. The wedding, she said, would not be held in Stratford for the whole of the town to gawp and giggle. Mary arranged for a priest with papist sympathies, in the parish of nearby Temple Grafton, to perform the ceremony on the 28th of November. There was little celebration and feasting in the Shakespeare home that day. The couple continued to live with the Shakespeare family in Henley Street. Susanna was born six months later.

  Much to the surprise of his parents, William appeared to accept his fate with comparative equanimity. What else could he do? He still had his plans, but at only nineteen years, there was plenty of time. He delighted in his baby daughter and gave in to her every childish whim. The attachment he had for Susanna’s mother was fast waning as at the same time his affection for his daughter, grew daily deeper.

  William also spent much of his free time with Gilbert. Together, they drank in the taverns, played all the ball games and darts with the Stratford men, exchanged their innermost thoughts and desires, poached deer and other fauna at night and attended the occasional cock fight set up in the cobbled courtyards of several inns. Gilbert, so different from his brother, had no ambition to leave his home town. He looked forward to marrying one day soon and living as his parents did in a similar home in Stratford with his own wife and family, until his death. William, on the other hand, never lost sight of his aim and frequently pondered as to how and when he would be able to achieve his desire to make for himself a life in London. The trouble was it was going to be especially difficult now to make the break because Anne was once again with child.

  ‘You can’t have your cake and eat it too,’ Gilbert chided, ‘there’s only one way your wife will cease to give birth.’

  The answer to his problems became clear several months later, when the misfortune of others provided the opportunity to move on. Indeed his parents insisted he leave Stratford at once.

  ACT 1 - 3

  They all knew that John Somerville, son-in-law to cousin Edward, patriarch of the Arden family, had only one thing on his mind. The man was obsessed by his religious views; specifically, it was the unjust persecution of those who followed the “old faith” that dominated his every thought and action.

  In November 1581 when the details of the deaths of Fathers Campion and Cottam became known in Warwickshire, Somerville fell into a mental and physical decline.

  For more than three years he suffered with deep depression. He badgered family members to take up arms against authority. He prayed night and day for the wrath of God to fall upon Queen Elizabeth and her minions and eventually, he took matters into his own hands.

  John Somerville set out for London indiscreetly telling all and sundry that he was going to kill the Queen.

  Naturally enough, they were waiting for him as he approached the outskirts of the city. He was captured upon his arrival and thrown into The Tower. A few days later, the Tower guards found this sad and misguided man hanged to death, by his own hand, in his cell. Worse was to come. The search for recusants intensified. Edward Arden was captured along with the priest who, for years, had sheltered in his home disguised as a gardener. They and others were put to death during one of the worst periods of civil unrest in Elizabeth’s reign.

  Daily, members of the Arden family waited for the metaphorical and the literal axe to fall upon them.

  John Shakespeare ordered his family once again to never miss Sunday attendance at the Holy Trinity Church and if necessary to even take Communion. They were to never, never discuss their religious views. This was a piece of advice William heeded for the remainder of his life.

  John also suggested it would be wise if William once again left Warwickshire to return to a tutor’s position in Lancashire until matters calmed down. Although that would have suited him, William hesitated as Anne’ second pregnancy was well-advanced.

  During the two years following their wedding, William’s passion for his wife at first weakened and finally died. Despite knowing, she was a loyal wife, a good housekeeper and attentive mother to Susanna, he no longer sought her conjugal love. He wanted more than a woman for sex, he wanted a meeting of the minds, a woman with whom he could discuss literature, history and other matters, hard to find such a woman.

  He couldn’t help noticing that it was his own mother who spent most of her time with his daughter while Anne kept herself busy with household tasks and the care of his brother, little Edmund who, only three years older than Susanna, had not yet commenced his schooling. William thought Anne seemed satisfied enough, certainly she no longer favoured him with those “come hither” looks.

  Completely discontented with his lifestyle, William was sorely tempted to take up his father’s suggestion and to leave the county for the time being. However, the imminent birth of his second child caused him to hesitate. The birth was expected to take place early in February 1585. Anne was quite a size, yet twins were not expected. Nevertheless twins were what she had, a boy and a girl. They called them Hamnet and Judith. These were the names of William’s friends who became godparents to the children.
William’s enthusiasm for married life was temporarily revitalised. The babies captivated him, especially his little boy. He explained to Gilbert, how important it was for him, for any man, to have at least one son to carry on the Shakespeare family line.

  ‘It’s not as though I prefer boys, Susanna is my dearest little cherub, but a boy keeps the tradition going and that is important to a man, as, Gilbert, you may soon discover.’

  So for several more months William although not content, temporarily put his ambition to one side. John Shakespeare and family did not visit their relatives in the Arden Forest until matters had quietened down. They hoped the authorities would not link them with the more extreme recusants of Warwickshire.

  Despite worrying about his duty to his family, rarely a day passed that William didn’t long for the challenge of London. He was aware that marriage and a family were enough for most men. He believed he was different, he believed in himself and wanted the chance to show the theatrical world that his talent, for writing plays and performing in them, was way above the normal.

  Soon after his twenty-first birthday, when the babies were three months old, William made up his mind to pursue his dream. He told his wife and family that it was time for him to leave them. He intended to meet up with former friends and attempt to succeed as an actor, poet and playwright. ‘I will return often,’ he promised, ‘to see you all and I will ensure you have sufficient money for your safe-keeping.’ William had no idea how he could keep that promise; nevertheless during midsummer 1585, with a light heart, he farewelled his family and jumped onto the London coach.

  Susanna was the only person who sobbed as he disappeared from view. His parents were relieved to see him gone from possible danger by being part of a notorious recusant family and also because he was rightly suspected of poaching and threatened with prison.

  Anne, also, was relieved to see him go. She had achieved what she set out to achieve. She was married with a family and was confident she would be secure for life. She was thirty years old and had no wish for more children. Firmly ensconced in the Shakespeare home, she no longer dreaded being an unwanted appendage in her former home in which her brother still lived along with their stepmother and her children. Finally, she was pleased not to have to put up with William’s albeit occasional, bursts of passion.

  Gilbert swore that he was also for London. Yet, William’s quiet younger brother had never been away from his home-town. He was an unsophisticated and dutiful boy who would never leave his father’s employ while the Shakespeare financial situation was precarious.

  Gilbert would have been most upset even horrified to know that his older brother had left his family only to pursue disgusting and demeaning work around the inn courtyards of central London. Where were William’s friends? Day after day he wandered from one inn-yard to another seeking them and seeing the performances held in these crowded, bad-smelling acting spaces with rough audiences who looked forward to nothing more than seeing an hour or two of ribald fun. William tried but failed to become a member of these travelling troupes. The only jobs he could find were cleaning the performance and audience areas before and after the shows. He earned his money on his knees scrubbing the ground where the audience stood, areas which were often fouled by horse and dog dung as well as human excrement. He was all too aware of his own body odour as he walked to his lodging after a day of such work. There were times when he was tempted to return to his home in the country and try to forget about his ambition. His confidence began to wane, perhaps he didn’t possess the skills necessary for success in England’s capitol. Success in Lancashire was one thing, but that was small beer compared to his present situation. He began to doubt his ability to both write and act for a more sophisticated audience. He didn’t try to write at that time, no time for writing and anyway no one was interested in performing the words of a young cleaner.

  Eventually, a small break came his way. In the temporary absence of one of the back stage crew, he was offered a job setting up stage properties, scene changing and other slightly more challenging back stage positions. Even so, life was not what he hoped for and William knew that if he had had a loving marriage he would have left the misery of London for good.

  He returned home for the first time just nine months after his initial departure. This was during the season of Lent when, by law, all performances were banned. All appeared to be going well with the Shakespeare household. He had little communication with Anne, spent most of his time with Gilbert and his children and returned to London refreshed and with no qualms about leaving them again.

  Finally, despite returning to his cleaning and back stage position, he encountered some of his old friends from Lancashire. They had just returned from an extensive tour of country districts in southern England. They had formed a new Company, called themselves “The Lord Chamberlain’s Men,” having just received the patronage of that gentleman. This meant they no longer risked fines and punishment for being vagabonds and wastrels who roamed the country with no proper employment or groups of actors without a patron.

  They invited William to join them, remembered he had written plays for them in Lancashire, plays enjoyed by all at Hoghton. What did he think about writing plays exclusively for The Lord Chamberlain’s Men?

  ‘Yes, yes, I can do that. I will commence immediately. I ask also for a small part in each production to assist me pay for my family’s keep, as well as my board and lodgings.’

  Writing and acting, at last his long-held dreams were coming true. He felt like a man on the brink of a new and fulfilling life. Half thought-out stories were tumbling through his mind. He couldn’t wait to put quill to paper.

  ACT 2 -1

  Susanna, nearly three years old when her father first waved goodbye from the carriage that took him to London, had sobbed as he disappeared from view. But, her broken heart soon mended. She lived in the family home with mother, grandparents, three uncles (one only three years older than she was) and her young and lively Aunt Joan. Her life was full of contentment and rarely did she give a thought to the father who turned up for a few weeks each year and then disappeared again. She was satisfied with his explanation that he was leaving to attend to his important work in London and it was necessary for him to do so in order to send her mother the money for her food and pretty clothing.

  Uncle Gilbert was her favourite. He strolled with her along the river bank, taught her how to wield a fishing line and often brought home a sweetie after his day at work in her grandfather’s business. Gilbert also promised that when she was old enough, he would take her to London to have a little holiday with her father. And, as the years passed, he related to her how her father was gaining a fine reputation as an actor and one day they would go to see him perform. Having never been away from her town and its surrounding districts, Susanna, naturally enough, couldn’t begin to imagine a city the size of London with a population nearly two hundred times larger than Stratford. She found it even harder to imagine her father performing as the clowns did at the various visiting companies and circuses that travelled the length and breadth of Britain.

  Susanna did not spend very much time with her mother who was usually occupied with the twins and her home duties. Instead, the child sat hour after hour each day with Mary, her grandmother. At her grandmother’s knee Susanna learnt to say the complete Rosary and innumerable other prayers before she was four years old. Mary gave her the beads and instructed her to keep them hidden under her mattress and never to take them away from the house or show them to other children. She learnt from grandmother that the Queen was a cruel woman who was not the head of the Church and that the proper head of their Church lived in a place called Rome, but the Queen didn’t like him so he was never invited to visit England.

  Susanna didn’t always look forward to these daily sessions with her grandmother. They sometimes went on far too long because, as her mother and Aunt Joan did all the cooking and cleaning, grandmother believed it was her duty to ensure that Susanna grew up a
devout Catholic. Anyway, Mary had time to burn to inculcate religious knowledge in her first grandchild. So, what with all the other relatives about, uncles, aunt and grandfather, Susanna spent next to no time with her quiet, busy mother and her young siblings.

  When it seemed to be comparatively safe to do so, it became the custom for the Shakespeare family, once a month, to visit family members, many of whom still lived in the Arden Forest. Despite the execution of Cousin Edward and the death of the mentally-disturbed John Somerville, the remainder of Mary’s family remained staunch recusants. Whenever possible they gathered in congregation, for a secret prayer service which incorporated parts of the Mass that did not include The Consecration - that required the presence of a priest.

  Susanna loved these religious gatherings. Crucifixes, candles, incense and the chanting of psalms fascinated her. So that by the time she was six years old, she too was an ardent recusant whose mind had become dominated by her grandmother’s oral history of religious oppression and also the persecution and courage of many martyred saints. The story of Joan of Arc who, one hundred and fifty years before, was burned at the stake for her belief in her God, was Susanna’s favourite, she hoped to grow up into a Christian soldier just like the young French girl. Most little girls of six years very happily played with their peg dolls and made believe they were Mummy. Not Susanna, she played religious games with her siblings and invariably took on the role of a soldier of God while forcing the three-year-old twins to play the parts of the evil ones of whom she eagerly disposed.