by L E Pembroke
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On his annual stay at home three years after his first departure, William, aware that his older daughter was what he deemed to be unnaturally pious, attempted to persuade her to spend less time with her grandmother. Although very taken up with the twins, especially Hamnet, he took his older daughter on long walks and caught her attention with the highly imaginative stories he told. This was the year that William arranged for his good friend, Hamnet’s godfather, also named Hamnet, to assist him in making the little girl literate.
‘I have captured her attention with my stories,’ he told his friend, ‘and, if you can instil in her mind a love of words, you will earn my undying gratitude as well as a few shillings. In a few years’ time I will have the money to employ a tutor for both Susanna and Judith. I will not be completely happy until they are able to read and write as well as any educated man.’
*
By 1591 William’s reputation as a playwright was spreading. Even the Queen knew of him. Court officials assured her that he was “a safe Catholic.” By 1592, The Lord Chancellor’s Men were being invited to perform at the Palace in Whitehall as well as homes of the wealthy and the nobility.
In consequence, William’s financial situation had improved considerably. He decided there was certainly enough to pay for a regular tutor for his daughters. Unfortunately for his plans it soon became clear that Judith had little interest in literacy. They were like chalk and cheese those two girls of his. When Hamnet went off to his school, Judith occupied herself in the kitchen which was always heavy with the odour of Anne’s large variety of bubbling herbs. Anne had a natural affinity for creating herbal medication and Judith was fascinated to see her mother preparing her potions for the weekly market and was eager to do the same.
When the tutor arrived every other day, Judith disappeared. She learnt to write her own name but very little else. Judith was more than content to do the same chores and live a similar life to Anne. That disappointed William whenever he thought about it, although he didn’t think about it too much as his fame spread and the number of his friends increased proportionally. Ten-year old Susanna, pleased that Judith was not sharing her valuable lessons, happily took up all the tutor’s time.
Susanna soaked in her new knowledge just as ink is soaked up by blotting paper. So intent was she on mastering her new learning she spent less time with her grandmother. However, Mary had done her work well. Susanna, for many, many years was a dyed-in-the-wool follower of the old faith.
William began to write regularly to his family knowing that Susanna would doubtless take pride in reading his news to them. He addressed his letters to her and Susanna, puffed up with pride, read them to the whole family, a task she occasionally reluctantly shared, as the years passed, with her young uncles and Hamnet.
It was quite expensive to send letters long distances, but now things were going well cost was not a worry for William. The Post riders who carried letters on horseback for a distance of ten miles along the four main post roads of England were reliable. William knew that the letter he dispatched would arrive in Stratford the following day, although letters to Cornwall, Yorkshire and the Bristol Channel might take up to three days. At a distance of approximately ten miles, horses and riders rested and a new team of man and beast took over. Susanna was familiar with the timetable for Stratford and twice a week she was in the centre of town awaiting the post rider and the latest news from her father. Often, she waited in vain because these days William worked harder than ever before and apart from poems, was producing his plays at the rate of at least two a year.
ACT 2-2
During the early days, when the Lord Chamberlain’s Men were working hard to establish their reputation, board and lodging in Southwark was often a few pence cheaper than in the walled, overcrowded city of London. Southwark was hardly a salubrious area in which to live but William and his player friends decided that its benefits far outweighed its deficiencies. Southwark was popular with actors mainly because of its proximity to the other entertainment areas that daily drew crowds of Londoners. One could always be sure of a packed house or a crowded inn yard on the south side of London Bridge. At any rate, there was little difference between stinking over-crowded London and the district immediately to its south.
Hundreds of patrons crossed the Thames River each day to enjoy the sports of bull and bear baiting and cock fighting (also a bloody business, and always a fight to the death with each rooster having sharp blades fitted to his feet to ensure the death of the opponent). Often they attended a performance of a bawdy play at one of the theatres built recently in Southwark which, being outside the city walls, was not subject to licensing laws.
Each day The Lord Chamberlain’s Men were up early to rehearse. It was a long day for them as they performed at midday and during the afternoon. Rarely were the theatres open at night because of the danger of fire from the flaming torches used to illuminate the stage. On many nights, while his friends occupied their time in the taverns, William went home to the impoverished tenement in which, at that time, they were all forced to live. It would be another two or three years before the Lord Chamberlain’s Men had built up their reputation as the best group of players in London with the best plays always written by young William Shakespeare.
At his down-at-heel residence, William, crouched beside a rush lamp, in the dense, smoky environment (few houses had chimneys) and created his stories of love and luxury. In the beginning, the experience of living at Hoghton was his model. Later, by the early 1590s, when his playwriting skills were becoming known and sought-after, he was able to write of the nobility with first-hand experience having often been a player in many great houses and palaces of London.
How he hated his rank and smelly accommodation in Southwark, how often he thought of his home, nourishing food, clean bedding and rarely a biting bug that left his body reddened, itchy and swollen. At times he wondered if he could tolerate much longer the dirt and discomfort of Southwark and indeed, the city of London. Then, another idea for a plot would spring into his mind and William was able to temporarily forget his circumstances and get on with doing what he loved most.
Although younger than many of the players, he felt older. Having a wife and children and with his innate awareness of human foibles he behaved with comparative maturity for his age. He watched, rather like an indulgent uncle, the players relaxing and flirting with the young women who almost invariably, after the performance, followed the actors from the theatre to one of the taverns.
Although the popular sports of bull or bear baiting didn’t appeal greatly to him, once or twice he accompanied his friends to Southwark’s famous Bear Garden situated close to their lodgings The climax to these entertainments was inevitable. The poor brute (some had been blinded) being baited was chained to a post set in the middle of the ring. He was surrounded by bull dogs with their handlers. One at a time the dogs were set upon the bull or bear until his final collapse. Perhaps, William thought, there were others who were nauseated by this so-called sport but they would never admit it because they were there to gamble on the outcome - how long before the bull was brought down and which dog would inflict the most damage?
He knew the vast population of London would do almost anything to pocket an extra penny or two. And, who could blame them? Poverty was rife in the cities and people in London and towns all over England watched avidly, with little thought of the pain being inflicted on the helpless animals, during these cruel, blood-thirsty and uneven contests. These men, shouting in raucous voices, were concerned only with the small amount they would win if the bear was finally brought down by the dog they had chosen to back, and also, around the time they had predicted it would take.
Not only did William dislike this so-called sport, he had no intention of gambling his hard-earned money. By skilful handling of his funds, he was able to provide his family with more than an adequate amount to live comfortably, pay for Susanna’s tutor, eventually move to more salubrious accommodation
in London and commence saving for property ownership.
William had never forgotten or revised the views he held about illiterate women before his marriage. The thought of the illiteracy amongst the women in his own family disturbed him greatly. Susanna’s response to her private education delighted him. He was determined that she would be educated as well as Hamnet who had been attending the Kings Grammar school for the last three years. Although, he was forced to concede that Judith would never know the pleasure of reading a book.
It was quite true, William admitted it freely, he was far happier in the company of men, men who conversed with knowledge, rather than with his own womenfolk - his mother, his wife and his sister. In fact, he thought, apart from his few experiences at Hoghton and his temporary infatuation with Anne, he had never had a great interest in women. It would have been a very different matter if he ever found the type of woman he occasionally dreamed of as he created his poems and plays. However, William accepted he had scant chance of meeting such a woman. An attractive face, a fine figure together with an educated mind and a boundless ability to love, that was what stirred his imagination, but it was only in his imagination that such women appeared before him.
After a successful run in London with “The Comedy of Errors”, a rumbustious story of mistaken identity, William, nevertheless, began to consider the probable popularity of historical plays featuring the kings of England. In matters to do with play writing he was always astute. He was feeling his way and playing safe. During the first years with the Lord Chamberlain’s Men it had become abundantly clear to him that plays written about the lives and times of former kings of England were popular with both the nobility in their fine homes and the poor who paid a penny to stand around the stage in all weathers. This type of play, he assured his colleagues, was less taxing on his mind and the minds of his audience.
Comedies, on the other hand, he found, were more difficult requiring, as they did, a light, deft touch, pace and keen observation of human frailty. William always suspected that he would not achieve his ambition and write plays that were considered great until he mastered the art of creating complex characters who because of a fatal flaw sowed the seeds of their own destruction. He wanted to write great tragedies but was aware he didn’t yet have the skills or experience of human nature to do so.
The Company’s reputation spread, largely because of the prolific rate at which he was writing his plays. William, from the beginning, was hoarding his money so that he was, within a few years able to purchase real estate both in London and Stratford. His principal aim was, in company with others, to build a theatre to be used solely for the performances of the Company.
He often watched, with condescending amusement, temporary relationships that grew up amongst some of the players during the season. He didn’t care or moralise about these transient affairs. He thought they were harmless enough and anyway when a young male heroine favoured a dashing hero, they both acted with greater conviction and audiences swelled to capacity. Audiences, sensing the feelings passing from one to another on stage, raucously encouraged the juveniles in their not so fictional play-acting.
*
Robert Southwell was another distant kinsman of William. He was a poet, a man of sensitivity and an under-cover priest. He was also the secret confessor to the young Henry Wriothesley. Henry, brought up for eight years in the Catholic household of the 2nd Earl of Southampton, became ward of Prime Minister, Lord Burghley, himself an ardent Protestant, following the death of his father, the 2nd Earl. This was the custom with young nobles. If their father died while they were at an early age they automatically came under the guardianship of an influential Lord in the Parliament.
Lord Burghley was determined that Henry would grow up a Protestant, Henry’s mother was equally determined he would remain a Catholic. Over time, his mother won the battle. Subsequently, although secretly attending Mass and going to his confessor, Robert Southwell, Henry wisely kept his religious preferences to himself. He was less secretive about his liaisons.
Lord Burghley hoped that Henry, one of the most handsome and accomplished members of the nobility, would marry his granddaughter when he came of age. However, when the time came, Henry declined the honour. For his pains, Burghley, furious, ordered him to pay a fine of five thousand pounds to make up for his breach of promise - a promise that Henry had never made in any seriousness.
Having graduated from Cambridge University, Henry Wriothesley came to London. He expressed a knowledgeable and enthusiastic interest in literature and was introduced to William Shakespeare by Robert Southwell. By 1592 William’s works, both plays and poetry were attracting much favourable attention. The priest, Robert Southwell, suggested that young Shakespeare use his talents to strengthen the Catholic religion in England. William always discreet about his family’s religious leanings, thought long and hard about this, he didn’t want to risk his life or his reputation. Although it could be a challenge to find a safe and feasible way of discreetly assisting the church through his writings.
He reckoned if he occasionally disseminated his thoughts and beliefs throughout the country through the medium of his characters’ words, and, if his plots portrayed the eventual victory of the good protagonist over the evil one, he would assist the work of the church in a subtle way without risking fines and imprisonment for his beliefs. William was ever the pragmatist. He was not the sort to risk martyrdom, but he was prepared to write poems and plays in which Good always triumphs over Evil. And, by doing so, earn some favour with God in the next life.
After meeting with Henry Wriothesley, a man who immediately charmed and excited him, William was inspired to write his most notable work up until that time. It was “The Rape of Lucrece”, a most passionate and poignant epic poem which he dedicated to Henry who had, soon after their initial meeting, become his patron. A mutual admiration quickly grew between Henry and William. The Third Earl of Southampton rapidly became an enthusiastic, ardent and generous supporter of the twenty-nine-year-old poet and playwright.
Following “The Rape of Lucrece” William penned “Venus and Adonis”, and his dedications to his young patron were almost embarrassingly sycophantic in their humility and respect for his young and handsome patron. People began wondering what the true relationship was between the playwright and the Earl.
He couldn’t stop himself. William was swept away with regard for the young man with the Adonis-like features. Not since those first few days with Anne had he felt anything like this compulsive attraction. At first this was not in reality sexual lust but more an intense admiration for Henry’s looks together with great respect and esteem for the Earl’s intellectual prowess and appreciation for poetry.
However, it didn’t take long for William to reluctantly admit to himself, (but never to others) that there was a sexual component to his feelings for Henry. A component forbidden by law and the church. Even so, he was unable to stop himself. For several years he penned sonnet after sonnet expressing the admiration he felt for “a fair youth”, and, in doing so, he was aware that it was assumed by many that the subject of his sonnets was Henry Wriothesley, whose combination of looks, charm, intellect and poetic appreciation struck William with awe.
Henry, in his early twenties, was a libertine who enjoyed affairs with both men and ladies. He married towards the end of the sixteenth century and was soon father to a number of children. He consequently forsook some of his old ways and haunts. He dropped out of William’s life before the turn of the century. Wriothesley’s main claim to fame was his patronage of the playwright and the unsubstantiated suspicion that the two men enjoyed what was then an illegal relationship.
William, did not allow his regard for Wriothesley to affect his other writings which he was still producing at a remarkable rate. Throughout the nineties he wrote a diverse mixture of Comedy and History although always at the back of his mind he was contemplating several ideas on more tragic themes.
In the early- nineties he returned to Stra
tford to escape the plague which was once again wreaking havoc in London. All public gatherings were forbidden and theatres and other places of entertainment were closed. Those who were able to, including the Queen and her Court, left the city to seek safety in the country.
In what had become a familiar pattern, Father Robert Southwell, soon after his meetings and correspondence with William, was recognised as he walked the streets of London. He was reported to the authorities, captured and thrown into prison. He was charged with treason for preaching against the Queen through his belief in “the old faith” and its leader.
The news of Father Robert Southwell’s capture and imprisonment quickly spread throughout England and particularly in Norfolk and Warwickshire where he was best known. Recusant families prayed for his release, but their prayers fell on deaf ears. Robert Southwell remained in prison for three years until 1595 when he was sentenced to death by being hanged, drawn and quartered. His influential and wealthy family begged, time and time again, that if he had to die for his beliefs, could he at least die as Thomas More had done sixty years before by being beheaded, hopefully with one clean cut. Their request was ignored. After three years imprisonment and torture, he was sentenced to be put to death at Tyburn Brook.
The news of Southwell’s sentence quickly spread to those awaiting the judgement in London, Norfolk and Warwickshire. Devout papists rushed to journey to London to be with the priest during his last agony and to pray for his soul at the moment of death. Catholics from the more northern counties were not able to consider travelling to the hanging because it was to take place very soon after the judgement had been handed down, a decision designed to avoid a massed public protest. Gilbert made arrangements to leave Stratford as soon as word came through. His pious niece insisted on travelling with him.