CHAPTER XIV.

CHAPTER XIV.THE BIOGRAPHY OF SHAKSPEARE CONTINUED TO THE CLOSE OF HIS RESIDENCE IN LONDON.

THE BIOGRAPHY OF SHAKSPEARE CONTINUED TO THE CLOSE OF HIS RESIDENCE IN LONDON.

Various particulars relative to the personal history of Shakspeare, in addition to those which terminated his biography in the country, having been detailed in the chapters that record his commencement as an actor[581:A], the composition of his poems[581:B], and his first efforts as a dramatic writer[581:C], we have now to collect the few circumstances of his life which time has spared to us, during the most active season of its duration, resuming our narrative at a period when the capital was under considerable alarm from the prevalence of the plague, and from the numerous conspiracies which were entered into against the life of the Queen. Shakspeare had been exposed, during the year of his birth, to great risk from the plague at Stratford, and its recurrence in 1593 seems to have made so deep an impression upon him, that he has alluded to it in more than one of his plays; particularly in hisRomeo and Julietwritten in this very year, where he mentions the practice of sealing up the doors of houses, in which "the infectious pestilence did reign."[581:D]It is probable that the effect on his mind might have been rendered more powerful, by the recollected narrative of those who had tended his infancy, and who, no doubt, had often told him of the danger which threatened the dawn of his existence.

We have found that, on his arrival in London, his first employment was that of an actor, a profession which, we certainly know, he continued to exercise for, at least, seventeen years. That he was byno means partial, however, to this occupation, nay that he bitterly regretted the necessity which compelled him to have recourse to it, as a mode of procuring subsistence, may be fairly deduced from the language of his ninety-first sonnet:—

"O for my sake do you with fortune chide,The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds,That did not better for my life provide,Than publick means, which publick manners breeds.Thence comes it that my name receives a brand,And almost thence my nature is subdu'dTo what it works in."

"O for my sake do you with fortune chide,

The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds,

That did not better for my life provide,

Than publick means, which publick manners breeds.

Thence comes it that my name receives a brand,

And almost thence my nature is subdu'd

To what it works in."

It appears strongly indeed, from the best of all evidence, that of his own words, that his early progress in life was thwarted by many obstacles, and accompanied by severe struggles, by poverty, contumely, and neglect. This he has emphatically told us, not only in one, but in several places, and in terms so expressive as to make us sympathize acutely with his sorrows. Yet we perceive him bearing up under his difficulties with a noble and independent spirit, and contrasting the world's oppression with the solace of private friendship. Thus, in that beautiful sonnet, the twenty-ninth, which has been noticed in another place, the transition from despair to hope is finely painted:—

"Whenin disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,I all alone beweep my out-cast state,And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,And look upon myself and curse my fate,Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,Featur'd like him, like him with friends possess'd,Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope.—Yet in these thoughtsmyself almost despising,Haply I think on thee,—and then my state(Like to the lark at break of day arisingFrom sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven's gate:"

"Whenin disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,

I all alone beweep my out-cast state,

And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,

And look upon myself and curse my fate,

Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,

Featur'd like him, like him with friends possess'd,

Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope.—

Yet in these thoughtsmyself almost despising,

Haply I think on thee,—and then my state

(Like to the lark at break of day arising

From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven's gate:"

and again, in sonnet the thirty-seventh,—

"As a decrepit father takes delightTo see his active child do deeds of youth,So, Imade lame by fortune's dearest spiteTake all my comfort of thy worth and truth;—So then I am not lame, poor, nor despis'd,Whilst that this shadow doth such substance give,That I in thy abundance am suffic'd,And by a part of all thy glory live."

"As a decrepit father takes delight

To see his active child do deeds of youth,

So, Imade lame by fortune's dearest spite

Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth;—

So then I am not lame, poor, nor despis'd,

Whilst that this shadow doth such substance give,

That I in thy abundance am suffic'd,

And by a part of all thy glory live."

That, by the salutary though severe lessons of adversity, he had learnt to conquer his misfortunes, and to despise the shafts of vulgar scandal, will be evident from the two subsequent passages:—

"Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now;Nowwhile the world is bent my deeds to cross,Join with thespite of fortune, make me bow,And do not drop in for an after-loss:Ah! do not, when my heart hath scap'd this sorrow,Come in the rearward of aconquer'd woe."

"Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now;

Nowwhile the world is bent my deeds to cross,

Join with thespite of fortune, make me bow,

And do not drop in for an after-loss:

Ah! do not, when my heart hath scap'd this sorrow,

Come in the rearward of aconquer'd woe."

Sonnet 90.

"Your love and pity doth the impression fillWhichvulgar scandal stamp'd upon my brow;For what care I who calls me well or ill,So you o'er-green my bad, my good allow?—In so profound abysm I throw all careOf other's voices, thatmy adders senseTo critick and to flatterer stopped are."

"Your love and pity doth the impression fill

Whichvulgar scandal stamp'd upon my brow;

For what care I who calls me well or ill,

So you o'er-green my bad, my good allow?—

In so profound abysm I throw all care

Of other's voices, thatmy adders sense

To critick and to flatterer stopped are."

Sonnet 112.

These complaints and consolations were, no doubt, written during the firsttenyears of his residence in London, while his reputation, as a poet, was yet assailable, and while the patronage of Lord Southampton was his only shield against the jealousy and traduction of illiberal competitors, whether off or on the stage. But the fame arising from his poems, and from the dramas ofRomeo and Juliet, andKing Richard the Third, had, in 1596, most assuredly secured him from any apprehensions of permanent injury; more especially as, soon after this period, the encouragement and support ofWilliam, Earl of Pembroke, andPhilip, Earl of Montgomery, who, as the players tell us, in their dedication of the first folio,had prosecuted our poet's plays, and their author living, with so much favour[583:A], were added to the protecting influence of Southampton.

It was in this year, namely 1596, that Shakspeare's feelings as a father were put to a severe trial, by the loss of his only son Hamnet, who died in the month of August, at the age of twelve—a deprivation which, however sustained with fortitude, must have been long deplored.

He was now residing, it would appear from evidence referred to by Mr. Malone[584:A], near the Bear-Garden in Southwark, and in the following year (1597) purchased of William Underhill Esquire, one of the best houses in his native town of Stratford, which, having repaired and improved, he denominated New Place.[584:B]Whether thiswas the purchase in which he is said to have been so materially assisted by Lord Southampton, cannot positively be affirmed; but as he had not long emerged from his difficulties, it is highly probable that on this, as well as on subsequent occasions, he was indebted to the bounty of his patron.[585:A]

To the year 1598 has been commonly assigned the commencement of the intimacy between our author and Ben Jonson. This epoch rests upon the authority of Mr. Rowe, who informs us, that "Shakspeare's acquaintance with Ben Jonson began with a remarkable piece of humanity and good-nature. Mr. Jonson, who was at that timealtogether unknown to the world, had offered one of his plays to the players to have it acted; and the persons into whose hands it was put, after having turned it carelessly and superciliously over, was just upon the point of returning it to him with an ill-natured answer, that it would be of no service to their company, when Shakspeare luckily cast his eye upon it, and found something so well in it, as to engagehim first to read it through, and afterwards to recommend Mr. Jonson and his writings to the public."[586:A]

That this kind office was in perfect unison with the general character of Shakspeare, will readily be admitted, yet there is much reason to believe that the whole account is without foundation; for, as we have related, in the last chapter,Every Man in his Humour, which is supposed by all the editors and commentators to be the play alluded to by Rowe, was first performed at the Rose theatre; and "that Jonson was 'altogether unknown to the world,'" remarks Mr. Gifford, "is a palpable untruth. At this period," (1598) he continues, "Jonson was as well known as Shakspeare, and perhaps better. He was poor indeed, and very poor, and a mere retainer of the theatres; but he was intimately acquainted with Henslowe and Alleyn, and with all the performers at their houses. He was familiar with Drayton and Chapman, and Rowley, and Middleton, and Fletcher; he had been writing for three years, in conjunction with Marston, and Decker, and Chettle, and Porter, and Bird, and with most of the poets of the day: he was celebrated by Meres as one of the principal writers of tragedy; and he had long been rising in reputation as a scholar and a poet among the most distinguished characters of the age. At this moment he was employed onEvery Man out of his Humour, which was acted in 1599, and, in the elegant dedication of that comedy to the 'Gentlemen of the Inns of Court,' he says, 'When I wrote this poem, I hadfriendship with diversin your Societies, who, as they weregreat namesin learning, so were they no less examples of living. Of them andthen, that I say no more, it was not despised.'—And yet, Jonson was, at this time, 'altogether unknown to the world!' and offered a virgin comedy (which had already been three years on the stage) to a player in the humble hope that it might be accepted."[586:B]

The presumption is, that our poet and Jonson were acquainted anterior to 1598, probably as early as 1595, and that the dramatic reputation of Ben was the chief motive which induced the company at the Black Friars to procure the alterations in, and to secure the property of,Every Man in his Humour. Such even is the opinion of Mr. Malone himself, when he has once forgotten the preposterous charge ofingratitude, on the part of Jonson, for thisimaginary introductionto the stage by Shakspeare; for in a note, on an entry of Mr. Henslowe's, which runs thus:—"11 of Maye 1597, at the comedy of umers (humours) 11," that is, acted eleven times since November, 1596, he observes,—"Perhaps Ben Jonson'sEvery Man in his Humour." It will appear hereafter, that he had money dealings with Mr. Henslowe, the manager of this theatre, and that he wrote for him. The play might have beenafterwards purchased from this company by the Lord Chamberlain's Servants(that is, by Shakspeare, Burbage, Heminge, &c.) by whom it was acted in 1598[587:A]; an inconsistency which has been keenly and justly animadverted upon by Mr. Gifford.[587:B]

Two domestic circumstances mark the next year of our author's life; for in 1599, his father obtained from the Heralds' Office a confirmation of his Coat of Arms, and his sister Joan married Mr. William Hart, a hatter in Stratford, occurrences which, in the great dearth of events unfortunately incident to our subject, are of some importance.

If an inference, however, made by Sir John Sinclair, could be considered as legitimately drawn, this year might be esteemed one of the most important in the poet's life; for, in the twentieth volume of his Statistical Account of Scotland, when speaking of the local traditions respecting Macbeth's castle at Dunsinnan, he infers, from their coincidence with the drama, that Shakspeare, "in his capacity of actor, travelled to Scotland in 1599, and collected on the spotmaterials for the exercise of his imagination." "Every attempt," remarks Mr. Stoddart, who has introduced this anecdote into his interesting Tour, "to illustrate the slightest circumstance, concerning such a mind, deserves our gratitude; but in this instance, conjecture seems to have gone its full length, if not to have overstepped the modesty of nature. The probability of Shakspeare's ever having been in Scotland, is very remote. It should seem, by his uniformly accenting the name of this spot Dunsináne, that he could not possibly have taken it from the mouths of the country-people, who as uniformly accent it Dunsínnan. Every one knows, with what ease local tradition is so modified, as to suit public history; and it is probable, that what Sir John heard in 1772, was a superstructure raised upon the drama itself. Amid the blaze of Shakspeare's genius, small praise is lost; but it is, perhaps, more honourable to his intellectual energies to suppose, that so much minute information was collected from books, or from conversation, than from an actual acquaintance with the place."[588:A]

Though we by no means contend for the validity of the inference, yet we must observe, that one of the principal objections of Mr. Stoddart is unfounded; for Shakspeare certainly was familiar with both modes of pronunciation, and has given us a specimen of the popular accent in the following well-known passage:—

"Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be, untilGreat Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hillShall come against him."

"Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be, until

Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill

Shall come against him."

Neither do we think, that his genius would have suffered any deterioration, nor his drama any loss of interest, had he actually painted from local observation.[588:B]

If we be correct in attributingMuch Ado about Nothingto the year 1599, it is here that some notice should be taken of an anecdote recorded by Aubrey, who, meaning to allude to the character of Dogberry in this play, though by mistake he refers to theMidsummer-Night's Dream, says, that "the humour of the constable he (Shakspeare) happened to take at Grendon, in Bucks, which is the roade from London to Stratford, and there was living that constable about 1642, when I first came to Oxon. Mr. Jos. Howe is of that parish, and knew him. Ben Jonson and he did gather humours of men dayly, wherever they came."[589:A]

That Shakspeare was accustomed to visit Stratford annually, has been already noticed[589:B]; and we learn from Antony Wood, that in performing these journeys, he used to bait at the Crown-Inn, in Oxford, which was then kept by John Davenant, the father of the poet. Antony represents Mrs. Davenant as both beautiful and accomplished, and her husband as a lover of plays, and a great admirer of Shakspeare.[589:C]The frequent visits of the bard, and the charms of his landlady, appear to have given birth to some scandalous surmises; for Oldys, repeating Wood's story, adds, on the authority of Betterton and Pope, that "their son, young Will. Davenant, (afterwards Sir William,) was then a little school-boy in the town, of about seven or eight years old, and so fond also of Shakspeare, that whenever he heard of his arrival, he would fly from school to see him. One day, an old townsman observing the boy running homeward almost out of breath, asked him whither he was posting in that heat and hurry. He answered, to see hisgod-father Shakspeare. There's a good boy, said the other, but have a care that you don't takeGod'sname in vain."[589:D]It has also been said, that Sir William had the weakness to feel gratified by the publicity of the supposition.[589:E]

It is very probable that, in 1600, Shakspeare might so time his annual visit to Stratford, as to be present at the christening of his nephew, William Hart, his sister's eldest son; who, according to the Register, was baptized on the 28th of the August of this year, and who, together with his two brothers, Thomas and Michael, is remembered in the poet's will, by a legacy of five pounds.

The subsequent year exhibits our bard in great favour at court. The Queen had been delighted with theTwo Parts of Henry the Fourth, and honoured their author with a command to bring forward Falstaff in another play. Tradition says, this was executed in a fortnight, and afforded Her Majesty the most entire satisfaction. The approbation and encouragement, indeed, of the two sovereigns under whose reigns he flourished, was a subject of contemporary notoriety; for Jonson, in his celebrated eulogy, thus apostrophises his departed friend:—

"Sweet swan of Avon, what a sight it were,To see thee in our waters yet appear:And make those flights upon the banks of Thames,That so did take Eliza, and our James."

"Sweet swan of Avon, what a sight it were,

To see thee in our waters yet appear:

And make those flights upon the banks of Thames,

That so did take Eliza, and our James."

That Elizabeth "gave him many gracious marks of her favour," has been mentioned by Rowe as a matter of no doubt; and he elsewhere observes, that "what grace soever the Queen conferred upon him, it was not toheronly he owed thefortunewhich the reputation of his wit made[590:A];" an observation which ushers in the acknowledgment of Southampton's well-known generosity.

The pleasure arising from this tide of success must have been, in no slight degree, damped by the sorrow which a son so truly great and good, must have felt on the loss of his father. This worthy man, of whom, in the opening of our work, some account will be found, expired on the 8th of September, 1601, leaving a name immortalised by the celebrity of his offspring.

In 1602, no other trace of our author is discoverable, independent of his literary exertions, than that, on the 1st day of May, he purchased, in the town and parish of Stratford, one hundred and seven acres of land, for the sum of 320l., which lands appear to have been indissolubly connected with his former purchase of New Place, and to have descended with it, until the extinction of the latter by Mr. Gastrell.[591:A]

The year following, however, brought an accession of dignity and power; for no sooner had James gotten possession of the English throne, than he granted a Licence to the Company at the Globe, which bears date the 19th of May, 1603, and being entitled "Pro Laurentio Fletcher et Willielmo Shakespeare et aliis," gives us reason to conclude, that the persons thus distinguished were, if not joint managers, at least leaders in the concern.[591:B]

It was about this period also that Shakspeare may, upon good grounds, be supposed to have taken his farewel of the stageas an actor; relinquishing this profession of which he appears not to have been very fond, for the purpose of more closely superintending the general concerns of the theatre, of which his writings continued to be the chief support. One strong motive for this deduction has arisen from the circumstance, that his name, as a performer, is no where visible beyond the era of Jonson'sSejanus, in which play, first acted in 1603, it is found in the list of the principal comedians, while inThe Fox, published only two years afterwards, performed at the same theatre, and by the same company, he is not mentioned, though the list of players is, as usual, inserted. That the termfellow, which continued to be mutually used by Shakspeare and the comedians of the Globe, cannot indicate a contrary conclusion, is evident from the language of the poet himself, who, in his will, though written three years after all connection, on his part, with the theatre had been given up, still speaks of Hemynge, Burbage, and Condell ashis fellows.

To nearly the same epoch we may attribute thefriendlyassociation of Shakspeare and Jonson in the celebrated club at the Mermaid, a form of society to which, from its ease and independency, Englishmen have always been peculiarly partial. The institution in question originated with Sir Walter Raleigh, and, as Mr. Gifford has well observed, speaking of Jonson's resort to it about the year 1603, "combined more talent and genius, perhaps, than ever met together before or since;—here," he adds, "for many years, he (Jonson) regularly repaired with Shakspeare, Beaumont, Fletcher, Selden, Cotton, Carew, Martin, Donne, and many others, whose names, even at this distant period, call up a mingled feeling of reverence and respect. Here, in the full flow and confidence of friendship, the lively and interesting 'wit-combats' took place between Shakspeare and our author; and hither, in probable allusion to them, Beaumont fondly lets his thoughts wander, in his letter to Jonson, from the country:—

——————— "What things have we seen,Done at theMermaid! heard words that have beenSo nimble, and so full of subtle flame,As if that every one from whom they came,Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, &c."[592:A]

——————— "What things have we seen,

Done at theMermaid! heard words that have been

So nimble, and so full of subtle flame,

As if that every one from whom they came,

Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, &c."[592:A]

For the expression "wit-combats," in this interesting passage, we must refer to Fuller, who, describing the character of the bard of Avon, says: "Many were the wit-combates between Shakspeare and Ben Jonson. I behold them like a Spanish great galleon, and an English man of war. Master Jonson, like the former, was built far higher in learning, solid but slow in his performances, Shakspeare, like the latter, lesser in bulk, but lighter in sailing, could turn with all tides, tack about, and take advantage of all winds by the quickness of his wit and invention."[592:B]

With what delight should we have hung over any well authenticated instances of these "wit-combats!" but, unfortunately, nothing,upon which we can depend, has descended to us. How much is it to be regretted that Fuller, who, no doubt, from the manner in which he has mentioned the subject, had many of these lively sallies fresh in his recollection, has not been more communicative! What tradition, however, or rather, perhaps, what fabrication, has left us, of this kind, will be found in the notes.[593:A]

It would appear that Shakspeare was now rapidly accumulating property; he had purchased, we have seen, New Place in 1597, a hundred and seven acres of land in 1602, and in 1605 he became the purchaser of the lease of the moiety of the great and small tithes of Stratford, for the sum of 440l.[594:A], a pretty strong proof of the success which had accompanied the exercise of his talents, both as anactorand a poet, and a complete one of his having overcome the difficulties which, for some years after his arrival in London, had so oppressively encumbered his efforts.

We may add, that he was gratified this year by the affectionate remembrance of his former associate Augustine Phillips, who, in his Will, proved on the 13th of May, 1605, gives and bequeaths to his "Fellowe Wīllm Shakespeare a thirty shillings piece in gould."[594:B]

It was the fashion at this period among the poets, to compliment a monarch, who was peculiarly open to flattery, especially on the subject of his genealogy, and on the union of the three kingdoms in his own person; a species of panegyric in which our author had been preceded by Daniel, Drayton, and Ben Jonson, and even by suchgrave characters as Dugdale and Wake.[595:A]It was natural, therefore, for Shakspeare, who had been under some obligation to James, to express his sense of it in a similar way, and he has accordingly, through the medium of hisMacbeth, which we conceive to have been performed in 1606, represented James as descended from Banquo, a character which, for this purpose, he has drawn, contrary to his historical authorities, noble and blameless. James, as Dr. Farmer[595:B]thinks, was so delighted with the line which painted him as carrying "two-fold balls and treble sceptres," that it was on this occasion he was induced to acknowledge the compliment by a letter to the bard from his own hand; an anecdote which seems entitled to full credit, as it originated, Oldys tells us, with Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham, who had it immediately from Sir William D'Avenant, in whose hands the letter long remained.[595:C]

This year has been also rendered memorable in the biography of our poet by the publication of a drama called "The Return from Parnassus," which had been acted by the students of St. John's College, Cambridge, as early as 1602. To a passage in this very curious production is to be ascribed all the idle tales which have been circulated with so much industry and avidity relative to a supposed quarrel between our author and Ben Jonson, in doing which, though the principal object has been to substantiate a charge of envy and malignancy against the latter, the mode in which the attempt is executed has been such as would, were the premises true, reflect no credit on the former. But the whole is a tissue of the most groundless and indefensible scandal, and we stand aghast at the motives which could induce such persevering hostility against the very man who, more than all others, had been the steady and professed eulogist of the poet whom these commentators sally forth to protect.

The passage, however, as equally applicable and important to both these great men, it will be necessary to transcribe. Burbage and Kempe, Shakspeare's fellow-comedians, are introduced conversing about the histrionic powers of the students of Cambridge, the latter ridiculing and the former defending their attempts, by observing, "that a little teaching will mend their faults; and it may be, besides, they will be able to pen a part;" to which Kempe, who seems here an object of irony, replies,—

"Few of the university pen plays well; they smell too much of that writer Ovid, and that writerMetamorphosis, and talk too much of Proserpina and Juppiter. Why here's our fellow Shakspeare put them (the University poets) all down, ay, and Ben Jonson too. O that Ben Jonson is a pestilent fellow; he brought up Horace, giving the poets a pill, but our fellow Shakspeare has given him a purge that made him bewray his credit."[596:A]

"When an object is placed too near to the eye," observes Mr. Gilchrist, commenting on this quotation, "the vision is strained and impaired, and the object obscured or distorted: if the commentators had viewed this passage 'as others use,' they would have found in the numerous dramas published anterior to the above passage, the instruments by which he put Ben down; and, in their various excellence, the means by which he threw the claims of his competitor into the shade. The passage has no reference topersonalanimosity; it was a just testimony to the superior merit of 'the poet of nature,' over the writings of more 'learned candidates for fame;' and the well-merited compliment is very appropriately put into the mouth of Will Kempe, one of Shakspeare's fellows."[596:B]

It is remarkable, that with the exception of Rowe, who, however, soon retracted the accusation, none of the editors of, and commentators on, Shakspeare had, previous to Steevens, attempted to prove Jonson the libeller of his friend. It remained therefore for hiscommentators of the last half century to undertake the noble task of heaping a thousand groundless calumnies on the defenceless head of Shakspeare's dearest friend, on him whom he most admired, and by whom he was best beloved! The iteration of these charges, under every form and shape, and connected with a commentary rendered popular by the text to which it was appended, had totally poisoned the public mind, when Mr. Gilchrist, and, still more amply, Mr. Gifford, by hunting these gentlemen through all their windings and doublings, through all the channels to which they had recourse for defamation, have produced a refutation of their charges, and a detection of their practices, more complete, perhaps, than any other instance of the kind on literary record.[597:A]

Truly delightful must it be to every lover of Shakspeare and of human nature, to find that the affectionate confidence of our bard was not thrown away, was not placed on a man worthless and insensible of the gift, but was returned by honest Ben, however occasionally rough in his manner and temper, with an attachment amounting to enthusiasm, with a steadiness which neither years nor infirmities could shake.[598:A]

On the last day of the year 1607, our poet buried at the church of St. Saviour's, Southwark, his brother Edmond, who, with singular precision, is entered in the register of that parish as "Edmond Shakspeare, aplayer," so that, as Mr. Chalmers has observed, "there were two Shakspeares on the stage during the same period."[598:B]

He had likewise married, on the fifth of June of this year, his favourite daughter Susanna, to Dr. John Hall, a physician of considerable skill and reputation in his profession, which he exercised at Stratford, residing during his father-in-law's life-time in the oldtown, but, on his death, removing to New Place, which, with the chief part of his property, had been left by the poet to Mrs. Hall. Susanna was, on her nuptials with Dr. Hall, twenty-five years of age, and there can be little doubt but that her father was present at the celebration of an event so materially affecting the happiness of his child.[599:A]

It is highly probable, that, independent of his regular annual visit, family-occurrences frequently drew Shakspeare from London to the purer atmosphere of his native fields; for, in the year succeeding the marriage of his daughter, two events of this kind took place, of which one required his personal attendance. On the 21st of February, 1608, his grandaughter Elizabeth, daughter of Dr. Hall, was baptized[599:B]; and, on the 16th of the October following, hestoodgodfather for William Walker, the son of Henry Walker of Stratford, remembering the child in his will, with twenty shillings in gold, under the title of his "godson William Walker."[599:C]

The year 1609 is sufficiently commemorated by the general opinion, that, at this period, Shakspeare planted theMulberry Tree, whose premature fate has been recorded in a preceding note.

"That Shakspeare planted this tree," observes Mr. Malone, "is as well authenticated as any thing of that nature can be. The Rev. Mr. Davenport informs me, that Mr. Hugh Taylor, (the father of his clerk,) who is now eighty-five years old, and an alderman of Warwick, where he at present resides, says, he lived, when a boy, at the next house to New Place; that his family had inhabited the house for almost three hundred years; that it was transmitted from father to son during the last and the present century; that this tree (of the fruit of which he had often eaten in his younger days, some of its branches hanging over his father's garden,) was planted by Shakspeare; and that till this was planted, there was nomulberry-tree in that neighbourhood. Mr. Taylor adds, that he was frequently, when a boy, at New Place, and that this tradition was preserved in the Clopton family, as well as in his own."[600:A]

That it was planted in the year above-mentioned, seems established by the facts, that, previous to the epoch in question, mulberry-trees, though not absolutely unknown in this country, were extremely scarce; and that, in 1609, King James, with a view to the encouragement of the silk manufacture, imported many hundred thousand of these trees from France, dispersing them all over England, accompanied by circular letters, written to induce the inhabitants to cultivate so useful, and at the same time so ornamental a production of the vegetable world.

It may safely be inferred, therefore, that our poet, on his visit this year to Stratford, had, in deference to the recommendation of his sovereign, as well as from his own taste and inclination, embellished his garden with this elegant tree.

With the exception of a Writ, issued out of the Stratford Court of Record, in June, 1610, for a small debt due to our author, scarcely a vestige of his existence, apart from his works, can be found for the next three years. This writ, and another issued the preceding year for a similar purpose, have the subjoined signature ofGreene, being that of Thomas Greene, Esq., a cousin of the poet's; who, though resident in Stratford, and clerk to its corporation, had at the same time chambers in the Middle Temple, and was a barrister in Chancery. He is entitled to this notice, as being not only the relation, but the intimate friend of Shakspeare.[600:B]

We now approach the last year of Shakspeare's abode in London, which, there is every reason to suppose, continued to be in that part of it where we found him in 1596; where he assuredly was, according to Malone, in 1608, and where he no doubt remained, until, asa resident, he quitted the capital for ever.[601:A]Before he took this step, however, he became the purchaser of a tenement in Blackfriars, for which, according to a deed still extant[601:B], he agreed to give one Henry Walker the sum of 140l., of which he paid 80l.down, and mortgaged the premises for the remainder. The property acquired by this transaction, which took place on the 10th of March, 1613, is in his will bequeathed to his daughter Susanna, and being there described as "that messuage or tenement, with the appurtenances, wherein one John Robinson dwelleth, situate, lying, and being, in the Blackfriars in London, near the Wardrobe," was probably let to this tenant soon after the purchase.

Among the arrangements which such a change of situation would almost necessarily require, it is reasonable to imagine, that his property in the Globe theatre would not be forgotten; but as this is neither mentioned in his will, nor he himself once noticed in the transactions of the theatre for 1613, we are entitled to infer, that he disposed of his interest in the concern previous to his leaving London.

That this event took place before the close of 1613, in all probability during the summer of the year, not only this circumstance relative to the theatre, and the general tradition, that a few years anterior to his death, he had left the metropolis for "ease, retirement, and the conversation of his friends" at Stratford, but two other circumstances of importance, will lead us to conclude. For, in the first place, it has been calculated that, at this period, his income from real and personal property was such, as to enable him to live handsomely in the country, independent of any profit from the stage[601:C]; and secondly, we have found sufficientdatafor believing,that his literary career was terminated by the production ofThe Twelfth Night, and that this play was written in 1613.

These considerations, when united, impress us with a perfect conviction, that when Shakspeare bade adieu to London, he left it predetermined to devote the residue of his days exclusively to the cultivation of social and domestic happiness in the shades of retirement.

FOOTNOTES:

[581:A]Vide Part II. Chap. 1.

[581:B]Part II. Chaps. 2. & 5.

[581:C]Part II. Chap. 9.

[581:D]Act v. sc. 2. Vide Reed's Shakspeare, vol. xx. p. 236. See also The Two Gentlemen of Verona, act ii. sc. 1.

[583:A]Vide Reed's Shakspeare, vol. i. p. 164.; and Chalmers's Apology, p. 599.

[584:A]See his "Inquiry," p. 215.

[584:B]Of this mansion, which Dugdale informs us was originally built by Sir Hugh Clopton in the time of Henry the Seventh, and was then "a fair-house, built of brick and timber," and continued in the Clopton family until 1563, when it was purchased by William Bott, and resold in 1570 to William Underhill, Esq., Mr. Wheler has given us the following account, subsequent to the decease of our poet:—"On Shakspeare's death, it came to his daughter Mrs. Hall, for her life; and then to her only child Elizabeth, afterwards Lady Barnard; after whose death New Place was sold, in 1675, to Sir Edward Walker, Knt. Garter, King at Arms, who died the 20th of February, 1676-7; and under his Will, dated the 29th of June, 1676, it came to his only child, Barbara, the wife of Sir John Clopton, Knt. of Clopton, in this parish. Their younger son, Sir Hugh Clopton, Knt. a barrister at law, and one of the heralds at arms, afterwards became possessed of New Place, which he modernised by internal and external alterations; and in 1742, entertained Macklin, Garrick, and Dr. Delany, under Shakspeare's mulberry tree. By Sir Hugh's son-in-law and executor, Henry Talbot, Esq. brother to the Lord Chancellor Talbot, it was sold to the Rev. Francis Gastrell, vicar of Frodsham in Cheshire; who, if we may judge by his actions, felt no sort of pride or pleasure in this charming retirement, no consciousness of his being possessed of the sacred ground which the muses had consecrated to the memory of their favourite poet. The celebrated mulberry-tree planted by Shakspeare's hand became first an object of his dislike, because it subjected him to answer the frequent importunities of travellers, whose zeal might prompt them to visit it, and to hope that they might meet inspiration under its shade. In an evil hour, the sacrilegious priest ordered the tree, then remarkably large, and at its full growth, to be cut down; which was no sooner done, than it was cleft to pieces for fire-wood: this took place in 1756, to the great regret and vexation, not only of the inhabitants, but of every admirer of our bard. The greater part of it was, however, soon after purchased by Mr. Thomas Sharp, watch-maker, of Stratford; who, well acquainted with the value set upon it by the world, turned it much to his advantage, by converting every fragment into small boxes, goblets, tooth-pick cases, tobacco-stoppers, and numerous other articles. Nor did New Place long escape the destructive hand of Mr. Gastrell; who, being compelled to pay the monthly assessments towards the maintenance of the poor, (some of which he expected to avoid, because he resided part of the year at Lichfield, though his servants continued in the house at Stratford during his absence,) in the heat of his anger declared,thathouse should never be assessed again; and to give his imprecation due effect, and wishing, as it seems, to be "damned to everlasting fame," the demolition of New Place soon followed; for, in 1759, he rased the building to the ground, disposed of the materials, and left Stratford amidst the rage and curses of its inhabitants. Thus was the town deprived of one of its principal ornaments, and most valued relics, by a man, who, had he been possessed of a true sense, and a veneration for the memory of our bard, would have rather preserved whatever particularly concerned their great and immortal owner, than ignorantly have trodden the ground which had been cultivated by the greatest genius in the world, without feeling those emotions which naturally arise in the breast of the generous enthusiast."The site of New Place was afterwards added to the adjoining garden, by its illiberal proprietor; under whose Will, made on the 2d of October, 1768, it came to his widow, Mrs. Jane Gastrell; who, in 1775, sold it to William Hunt, Esq. late of this town; from whose family it was purchased by Messrs. Battersbee and Morris, bankers, of Stratford."—Wheler's History of Stratford, p. 135.; and Guide to Stratford, pp. 45. 47.

"The site of New Place was afterwards added to the adjoining garden, by its illiberal proprietor; under whose Will, made on the 2d of October, 1768, it came to his widow, Mrs. Jane Gastrell; who, in 1775, sold it to William Hunt, Esq. late of this town; from whose family it was purchased by Messrs. Battersbee and Morris, bankers, of Stratford."—Wheler's History of Stratford, p. 135.; and Guide to Stratford, pp. 45. 47.

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