HENRY OF NAVARRE ACCEPTS CATHOLICISMHE IS ACKNOWLEDGED KING OF FRANCE
A.D. 1593
MAXIMILIEN DE BÉTHUNE, DUC DE SULLY
Few periods in French history are of greater interest and importance than that of which Sully treats in the following pages. Henry of Navarre is regarded by the French people as the most brilliant of all their kings in personal qualities and achievements; and his great accomplishment of ending the terrible religious wars of his country is one of the most conspicuous of the happier results in modern annals. Sully, whose account of these matters stands alone among those of contemporary narrators, was the friend and companion of Henry of Navarre, with whom he served in the wars. He also became famous as King Henry's minister of finance.After the Massacre of St. Bartholomew, the "Wars of the Huguenots" in France continued with fury. In 1573, the year following the massacre, by the Peace of La Rochelle Charles IX granted to the Protestants partial toleration. By the Peace of Monsieur, in 1576, Henry III granted them free exercise of their religion in all France except Paris. Among French Roman Catholics this treaty caused deep dissatisfaction, and in the same year they formed the Holy League—also called the Catholic League—for the purpose of wiping out the Huguenot party and raising the Guises to the throne. The League made an alliance with Philip II of Spain.Henry of Navarre, head of the Huguenot party after the death of Condé in 1569, became heir-presumptive to the throne of France in 1584. The Holy League, refusing to recognize his title, proclaimed the cardinal Charles de Bourbon heir-presumptive. On the death of Henry III, successor of Charles IX, in 1589, the League proclaimed Bourbon as king, under the title of Charles X. In the following year Henry of Navarre signally defeated the League at Ivry, but still the war went on. Battles and sieges, widespread intrigues, and frequent assassinations kept the kingdom in a condition of tumult and alarm. Disputes between the contending parties proved futile, debates in the States or legislative assembly of Paris availed nothing, and the successive "treaties" of the long war period failed to bring lasting peace.At length Henry decided to abjure the Protestant faith, and his abjuration was followed by the surrender to him of the chief cities of the kingdom (1593), including Paris.Still, although the King secured the general recognition of the Roman Catholics, and was crowned, as Henry IV, in July, 1594, war was continued by the League and its Spanish allies. In April, 1598, Henry issued the famous Edict of Nantes, whereby Huguenots were granted the political rights enjoyed by Catholics, and religious, military, and judicial concessions were made to the Protestants. This edict ended the long religious wars, and in May the Peace of Vervins with Spain and the League was concluded. The central event selected for this work is the securing by Henry of the sovereign power, whereby the end of these prolonged troubles was finally reached.
Few periods in French history are of greater interest and importance than that of which Sully treats in the following pages. Henry of Navarre is regarded by the French people as the most brilliant of all their kings in personal qualities and achievements; and his great accomplishment of ending the terrible religious wars of his country is one of the most conspicuous of the happier results in modern annals. Sully, whose account of these matters stands alone among those of contemporary narrators, was the friend and companion of Henry of Navarre, with whom he served in the wars. He also became famous as King Henry's minister of finance.
After the Massacre of St. Bartholomew, the "Wars of the Huguenots" in France continued with fury. In 1573, the year following the massacre, by the Peace of La Rochelle Charles IX granted to the Protestants partial toleration. By the Peace of Monsieur, in 1576, Henry III granted them free exercise of their religion in all France except Paris. Among French Roman Catholics this treaty caused deep dissatisfaction, and in the same year they formed the Holy League—also called the Catholic League—for the purpose of wiping out the Huguenot party and raising the Guises to the throne. The League made an alliance with Philip II of Spain.
Henry of Navarre, head of the Huguenot party after the death of Condé in 1569, became heir-presumptive to the throne of France in 1584. The Holy League, refusing to recognize his title, proclaimed the cardinal Charles de Bourbon heir-presumptive. On the death of Henry III, successor of Charles IX, in 1589, the League proclaimed Bourbon as king, under the title of Charles X. In the following year Henry of Navarre signally defeated the League at Ivry, but still the war went on. Battles and sieges, widespread intrigues, and frequent assassinations kept the kingdom in a condition of tumult and alarm. Disputes between the contending parties proved futile, debates in the States or legislative assembly of Paris availed nothing, and the successive "treaties" of the long war period failed to bring lasting peace.
At length Henry decided to abjure the Protestant faith, and his abjuration was followed by the surrender to him of the chief cities of the kingdom (1593), including Paris.
Still, although the King secured the general recognition of the Roman Catholics, and was crowned, as Henry IV, in July, 1594, war was continued by the League and its Spanish allies. In April, 1598, Henry issued the famous Edict of Nantes, whereby Huguenots were granted the political rights enjoyed by Catholics, and religious, military, and judicial concessions were made to the Protestants. This edict ended the long religious wars, and in May the Peace of Vervins with Spain and the League was concluded. The central event selected for this work is the securing by Henry of the sovereign power, whereby the end of these prolonged troubles was finally reached.
Alternate succession of war and debates lasted all the time that the States of Paris continued to be held, and even till the day that the King abjured the Protestant religion. His intention of changing his religion now became daily more certain: many causes urged him to adopt this resolution, the principal of which (not to mention his conscience, of which he alone could be the true judge) were his grief for the miseries to which the people would still be exposed; his dread of the Catholics about his person; the powerful and subtle theological arguments of M. du Perron, added to his sweet and agreeable conversation; the artful connivance of some of the ministers and Huguenots in the cabinet, who were willing to profit by the times at any rate; the faithless ambition of many of the most powerful and distinguished among the Protestants, at the mercy of whom he dreaded falling, should the Catholics resolve to abandon him; the contempt which he had conceived against some of the zealous Catholics (and particularly M. d'O), on account of the insolent language they had used toward him; his desire of getting rid of them, and of one day making them suffer for their temerity; his dread lest the States, still sitting in Paris, might elect the Cardinal of Bourbon king, and marry him to the Infanta of Spain; finally, the fatigue and troubles he had endured from his youth, the hope of enjoying a life of ease and tranquillity for the future, added to the persuasions of some of his most faithful servants, among whom may be also reckoned his mistress,[1]the one by tears and supplications, the other by remonstrances: all these circumstances, I say, fixed him in his resolution of embracing the Catholic religion.
While these things were under consideration a great number of the larger towns, and Paris in particular, which were in the party of the League, being no longer able to endure the inconveniences and privations which the confusion of the times had occasioned—all commerce, internal as well as external, being at a stand, on account of the prohibitions against trading with the places in the King's interest—disturbances broke out among the people, who at last compelled their leaders to send a deputation to the King to request liberty to trade: M. de Belin was accordingly appointed for this purpose, and came to the King when he was either at Mantes or Vernon; but, notwithstanding all his arguments, the whole council opposed his request. There was not a Protestant there who appeared willing that he should grant it; and, what is still more surprising, it met with equal opposition from the Catholics, without their being able to assign a lawful, or even a plausible, reason for such a conduct.
All these persons were perplexed in their debates, and perceived plainly that their opinion would signify nothing, yet could not prevail upon themselves to alter it. The King looking at me that moment, "Monsieur de Rosny," said he, "what makes you so thoughtful? Will not you speak your mind absolutely any more than the others?" I then began, and was not afraid to declare myself against all those who had voted, by maintaining that it was necessary not to hesitate a moment, but to endeavor to gain the affections of the people by kind treatment, as experience had proved that harsh measures were productive of no good consequences whatever. I therefore advised the King to grant them not only the liberty of trade, which they requested, but also a general truce, if, as the Count de Belin seemed to hint, they should desire it. To these I added many other reasons; but they only excited against me the hatred or contempt of most of the council, to whose decision the King was obliged to yield, and the Count de Belin returned without being able to gain anything.
Henry, reflecting upon this refusal and judging that there wanted but little more of the same nature to alienate the people's affections from him without a possibility of regaining them, and to induce them to go over to the party of his enemies, he resolved to defer his abjuration no longer. He was now convinced that there was no probability of his subduing the reluctance of several of the Protestants, or of ever obtaining their free consent to this proceeding;[2]but that it was necessary to act independently of them, and hazard some murmurs, which would end in nothing. As for the Catholics of his party, the King endeavored only to remove their fears that, looking upon them as persons of whom he was already secure, he would apply himself wholly to gaining the rest by bestowing all rewards upon them. He therefore at last declared publicly that on July 20, 1593, he would perform his abjuration, and named the Church of St. Denis for this ceremony.
This declaration threw the League into confusion, and filled the hearts of the people and the Catholics of the royal party with joy. The Protestants, although they had expected it, discovered their discontent by signs and low murmurs, and did, for form's sake, all that such a juncture required of them, but they did not go beyond the bounds of obedience. All the ecclesiastics, with Du Perron, intoxicated with his triumph, at their head, flocked together; everyone was desirous of a share in this work. Du Perron, for whom I had obtained the bishopric of Evreux, thought he could not show his gratitude for it in a better manner than by exercising his functions of converter upon me. He accosted me with the air of a conqueror, and proposed to me to be present at a ceremony where he flattered himself he should shine with such powers of reasoning as would dissipate the profoundest darkness. "Sir," I replied, "all I have to do by being present at your disputes is to examine which side produces the strongest and most effectual arguments. The state of affairs, your number and your riches, require that yours should prevail." In effect they did. There was a numerous court at St. Denis, and all was conducted with great pomp and splendor. I may be excused from dwelling upon the description of this ceremony here, since the Catholic historians have been so prolix upon the subject.
I did not imagine I could be of any use at this time, therefore kept myself retired, as one who had no interest in the show that was preparing, when I was visited by Du Perron, whom the Cardinal of Bourbon had sent to me to decide a dispute that had arisen on occasion of the terms in which the King's profession of faith should be conceived. The Catholic priests and doctors loaded it with all the trifles their heads were filled with, and were going to make it ridiculous, instead of a grave and solemn composition. The Protestant ministers, and the King himself, disapproved of the puerilities and trifles with which they had stuffed this instrument; and it occasioned debates which had like to have thrown everything again into confusion. I went immediately with Du Perron to the Cardinal of Bourbon, with whom it was agreed that those articles of faith which were disputed by the two churches should be admitted, but that all the rest should be suppressed as useless. The parties approved of this regulation; and the instrument was drawn up in such a manner that the King there acknowledged all the Roman tenets upon the Holy Scripture: the Church, the number and ceremonies of the sacraments, the sacrifices of the mass, transubstantiation, the doctrine of justification, the invocation of saints, the worship of relics and images, purgatory, indulgences, and the supremacy and power of the pope,[3]after which the satisfaction was general.[4]
The ceremony of the King's abjuration was followed by a deputation of the Duke of Nevers to Rome, who, together with the Cardinal de Gondy and the Marquis de Pisany, was to offer the Pope the submission usual in such cases. Although this change was a mortal blow for the League, yet the Spaniards and the Duke of Mayenne still held out; they endeavored to persuade their partisans that there still remained resources capable of making it ineffectual; but they spoke at that time contrary to their own opinion, and this feigned confidence was only designed to obtain greater advantages from the King before he was securely fixed on the throne.
This is not a mere conjecture, at least with regard to the King of Spain, since it is certain that he ordered Taxis and Stuniga to offer the King forces sufficient to reduce all the chiefs of the League and the Protestant party, without annexing any other condition to this offer than a strict alliance between the two crowns, and an agreement that the King should give no assistance to the rebels in the Low Countries. Philip II judged of Henry by himself, and considered his conversion only as the principle of a new political system, which made it necessary for him to break through his former engagements. It may not, perhaps, be useless to mention here an observation I have made on the conduct of Spain, which is, that although before and after the death of Catherine de' Medicis she had put a thousand different springs in motion, changed parties and interests as she thought most expedient to draw advantages from the divisions that shook this kingdom, yet the Protestant party was the only one to which she never made any application: she had often publicly protested that she never had the least intention to gain or suffer their alliance.
It is by an effect of this very antipathy that the Spaniards have constantly refused the Reformed religion admission into their states—an antipathy which cannot be attributed to anything but the republican principles the Protestants are accused of having imbibed. The King being fully convinced that, to stifle the seeds of schism in his kingdom, it was necessary to give none of the different factions occasion to boast that his power was at their disposal, and that to reduce all parties he must be partial to none, he therefore steadily rejected these offers from Spain, and those which the Duke of Mayenne made him to the same purpose, but at that very time appeared willing to treat with any of the chiefs or cities of the League which would surrender, and to reward them in proportion to their readiness and services; and it was this prudent medium that he was resolved to persist in.
Although he now professed the same religion as the League, yet his aversion to the spirit which actuated that party, and to the maxims by which they were governed, was not lessened; the very name only of the League was sufficient to kindle his anger. The Catholic Leaguers, supposing that his abjuration authorized them to abolish in those cities which depended upon them the edicts that were favorable to the Huguenots, the King caused them to be restored; and though in some places the Leaguers had obtained the consent even of the Huguenots themselves—determined to purchase peace at any price—for this purpose, yet, the Protestant party murmuring at it, Henry cancelled all that had been done to that effect,[5]and showed that it was his design to keep the balance even.
The Duke of Mayenne, finding that in this last scheme, which he had believed infallible, he was disappointed as well as in the rest, placed all his future dependence upon his old friends the Parisians, and neglected no method by which he might awaken their mutinous disposition; but so far was he from succeeding in this attempt that he could not hinder them from discovering their joy at what had just passed at St. Denis. They talked publicly of peace, and even in his presence; and he had the mortification to hear a proposal to send deputies to the King to demand a truce for six months, and they obliged him to give his consent to it. The truce for three months, which had been granted them at Surêne, had only inspired them with an inclination for a longer one.
The King gave audience to the deputies in full council. The greatest number of those who composed it, listening to nothing but their jealousy of the Duke of Mayenne, whom they feared as a man that had the means in his power of purchasing favor and rewards, were of the opinion that no attention ought to be paid to this demand of the deputies, because the person who sent them persisted in his revolt against the King, even after his abjuration. Notwithstanding the justice of not confounding the Duke of Mayenne with the Parisians, I saw this advice was likely to be followed, and it certainly might have produced some very bad consequence. I therefore insisted so strongly upon the advantage of letting the people, already recovered from their first terrors, taste the sweets of a peace which would interest them still more in the King's favor, that this Prince declared he would grant the truce they demanded of him, but for the months of August, September, and October only.
The next day a prodigious concourse of the populace of Paris assembled at St. Denis. The King showed himself to the people and assisted publicly at mass; wherever he turned his steps the crowd was so great that it was sometimes impossible to pierce through it, while every moment a million of voices cried, "Long live the King!" Everyone returned, charmed with the gracefulness of his person, his condescension, and that engaging manner which was natural to him. "God bless him!" said they, with tears in their eyes, "and grant that he may soon do the same in our Church of Notre Dame in Paris." I observed to the King this disposition of the people with regard to him; tender and sensible as he was, he could not behold this spectacle without strong emotions.
Some months later, while on a mission for the King, I received from his majesty a letter, which concluded with these words: "Come to me at Senlis on the 20th of March, or at St. Denis on the 21st, that you may help to cry, 'Long live the King!' in Paris, and afterward we will do the same at Rouen."
It was upon some correspondence the King carried on in Paris that he founded his hopes of being soon admitted there, and he was on his way thither from St. Denis when I joined him. His party in that city was so firmly united, and so many persons of equal courage and fidelity had joined it, that it was almost impossible but that it should succeed. Ever since the battle of Arques, when the Count of Belin was taken prisoner by the King's forces, and had an opportunity of discovering the great qualities of Henry contrasted with the weakness of his enemies, the Duke of Mayenne perceived the inclinations of the count to lean secretly toward the King. Full of this suspicion, he did not hesitate a moment about depriving him of the government of so considerable a city as Paris, and, seeking for a man whose fidelity to himself and the League could be depended upon, to whom he might intrust the care of this great city at a time when the necessity of his affairs obliged him to repair to the frontier of Picardy, he fixed upon Brissac and made him governor.
Brissac, at first, answered his purposes perfectly well. The study of Roman history had inspired this officer, who valued himself greatly upon his penetration and judgment, with a very singular project, which was to form France into a republic upon the model of ancient Rome, and make Paris the capital of this new state. Had Brissac descended ever so little from these lofty ideas to an attention to particular applications, which in the greatest designs it is necessary to have some regard to, he would have perceived that there are circumstances under which a scheme, however happily imagined, may, by the nature of the obstacles which oppose it, by the difference of the genius and character of the people, by the force of those laws they have adopted, and by long custom, which, as it were, stamps a seal upon them, become alike chimerical and impracticable. Time only and long experience can bring remedies to defects in the customs of a state whose form is already determined; and this ought always to be attempted with a view to the plan of its original constitution: this is so certain that, whenever we see a state conducted by measures contrary to those made use of in its foundation, we may be assured a great revolution is at hand; nor does the application of the best remedies operate upon diseases that resist their force.
Brissac did not go so far; he could not for a long time comprehend from whence the general opposition his designs met with proceeded, for he had explained himself freely to the nobles and all the chief partisans of the League; at last he began to be apprehensive for his own safety lest, while, without any assistance, he was laboring to bring his project to perfection, the King should destroy it entirely by seizing his capital. Possessed with this fear, the Roman ideas quickly gave place to the French spirit of those times, which was to be solicitous only for his own advantage. When self-interested motives are strengthened by the apprehension of any danger, there are few persons who will not be induced by them to betray even their best friend. Thus Brissac acted: he entered into the Count of Belin's resolutions, though from a motive far less noble and generous, and thought of nothing but of making the King purchase at the highest price the treachery he meditated against the Duke of Mayenne in his absence. St. Luc, his brother-in-law, undertook to negotiate with the King in his name, and having procured very advantageous conditions, Brissac agreed to admit Henry with his army into Paris in spite of the Spaniards. The troops of the League were absolutely at his disposal, and there was no reason to apprehend any opposition from the people.
D'O lost no time in making application for the government of Paris and the Isle of France, and obtained his request; but now a conflict between his interest and ambition so perplexed this superintendent that, notwithstanding his new dignity, the reduction of Paris was among the number of those things he most feared should happen: he would have had it believed that the true motive of this fear was, lest the finances should become a prey to the men of the sword and gown, by whom, he said, the King, as soon as he was possessed of Paris, would be oppressed for the payment of pensions, appointments, and rewards. But this discourse deceived none but those who were ignorant of the advantage he found in keeping the affairs of the finances in their present state of confusion, and with what success he had hitherto labored for that purpose.
The King, upon this occasion, put all the friends of the Count of Belin in motion, on whom he had no less dependence than upon Brissac, and at nine o'clock in the morning presented himself, at the head of eight thousand men, before the Porte Neuve, where the Mayor of Paris and the other magistrates received him in form. He went immediately and took possession of the Louvre, the Palace, the Great and Little Châtelet, and, finding no opposition anywhere, he proceeded even to the Church of Notre Dame, which he entered to return thanks to God for his success. His soldiers, on their part, fulfilled with such exactness the orders and intentions of their master that no one throughout this great city complained of having received any outrage from them. They took possession of all the squares and crossways in the street, where they drew up in order of battle. Everything was quiet, and from that day the shops were opened with all the security which a long-continued peace could have given.
The Spaniards had now only the Bastille, the Temple, and the quarters of St. Anthony and St. Martin in their possession; and there they fortified themselves, being about four thousand in number, with the Duc de Feria and Don Diego d'Evora at their head, all greatly astonished at such unexpected news, and firmly resolved to defend themselves to the last extremity, if any attempts were made to force them from those advantageous posts. The King relieved them from their perplexity by sending to tell them that they might leave Paris and retreat in full security. He treated the Cardinals of Placentia and Pelleve with the same gentleness, notwithstanding the resentment he still retained for their conduct with regard to him. Soissons was the place whither these enemies of the King retired,[6]protected by a strong escort. His majesty then published a general pardon for all the French who had borne arms against him. When this sacrifice is not extorted by necessity, but, on the contrary, made at a time when vengeance has full liberty to satiate itself, it is not one of the least marks of a truly royal disposition.
CULMINATION OF DRAMATIC LITERATURE IN "HAMLET"
A.D. 1601
JAMES O. HALLIWELL-PHILLIPPS
The tragedy ofHamletis generally regarded by critics as Shakespeare's masterpiece. Hence it is often referred to as the highest literary product of human genius. In the following discussion of the play, Mr. J. O. Halliwell-Phillipps, the master and dean of later Shakespearean scholars, gives 1601 as the probable date of its first production. At that time Shakespeare was a London actor, and leading shareholder in the Globe Theatre, where his play was presumably produced. He had made his first big success some five years before withRomeo and Juliet, and was, so far as we can judge, on the high tide of financial prosperity. The profession of an actor carried with it in those days much discredit, but in his far-off home at Stratford, Shakespeare had in 1601 already begun to seek the repute of a country gentleman, and had purchased the finest house and estate in the little village.Mr. Halliwell-Phillipps'Memoranda on Hamletwere never thrown into final shape by the author. Therefore the editors have taken such slight liberties in rearranging the order of his text as were necessary to make its discourse consecutive.
The tragedy ofHamletis generally regarded by critics as Shakespeare's masterpiece. Hence it is often referred to as the highest literary product of human genius. In the following discussion of the play, Mr. J. O. Halliwell-Phillipps, the master and dean of later Shakespearean scholars, gives 1601 as the probable date of its first production. At that time Shakespeare was a London actor, and leading shareholder in the Globe Theatre, where his play was presumably produced. He had made his first big success some five years before withRomeo and Juliet, and was, so far as we can judge, on the high tide of financial prosperity. The profession of an actor carried with it in those days much discredit, but in his far-off home at Stratford, Shakespeare had in 1601 already begun to seek the repute of a country gentleman, and had purchased the finest house and estate in the little village.
Mr. Halliwell-Phillipps'Memoranda on Hamletwere never thrown into final shape by the author. Therefore the editors have taken such slight liberties in rearranging the order of his text as were necessary to make its discourse consecutive.
The tragedy ofHamletis unquestionably the highest effort of artistic literary power yet given to the world. There is nothing to be found in real competition with it excepting in the other works of Shakespeare, but all are inferior to this great masterpiece. There is hardly a speech in the whole play which may not fairly be made the subject of an elaborate discourse, especially when viewed in connection with its bearings, however occasionally remote, on the character of Hamlet, the development of which appears to have been the chief object of the author, not only in the management of the plot, but in the creation of the other personages who are introduced. There is contemporary evidence to this effect in theStationers' Registerof 1602 in the title there given—The Revenge of Hamlet.
There was an old English tragedy on the subject of Hamlet which was in existence at least as early as the year 1589, in the representation of which an exclamation of the Ghost—"Hamlet, revenge!"—was a striking and well-remembered feature. This production is alluded to in some prefatory matter by Nash in the edition of Greene'sMenaphon, issued in that year, here given: "I'le turne backe to my first text, of studies of delight, and talke a little in friendship with a few of our triuiall translators. It is a common practise now a daies amongst a sort of shifting companions that run through euery arte and thriue by none, to leaue the trade ofNouerintwhereto they were borne, and busie themselues with the indeuors of art, that could scarcelie latinize their necke-verse if they should haue neede; yet EnglishSenecaread by candle light yeeldes manie good sentences, asBloud is a beggar, and so foorth: and if you intreate him faire in a frostie morning, he will afoord you wholeHamlets, I should say hand-fulls of tragical speeches."
Another allusion occurs in Lodge'sWits' Miserie, "and though this fiend be begotten of his father's own blood, yet is he different from his nature; and were he not sure that jealousie could not make him a cuckold, he had long since published him for a bastard: you shall know him by this, he is a foule lubber, his tongue tipt with lying, his heart steeled against charity; he walks for the most part in black under color of gravity, and looks as pale as the visard of the ghost which cried so miserably at the theator like an oister-wife,'Hamlet, revenge'." Again, in Decker'sSatiromastix, 1602: "Asini. 'Wod I were hang'd, if I can call you any names but Captaine and Tucca.'Tuc.'No, fye'st, my name'sHamlet, revenge. Thou hast been at Parris Garden, hast not?'Hor.'Yes, Captaine, I ha plaide Zulziman there'"; with which may be compared another passage inWestward Hoe, 1607—"I, but when light wives make heavy husbands, let these husbands play madHamletand crie,revenge." So, likewise, in Rowland'sNight Raven, 1620, a scrivener, who has his cloak and hat stolen from him, exclaims, "I will not cry,Hamlet, revengemy greeves." There is also reason to suppose that another passage in the old tragedy ofHamletis alluded to in Armin'sNest of Ninnies, 1608: "There are, as Hamlet sayes, things cald whips in store," a sentence which seems to have been well known and popular, for it is partially cited in theSpanish Tragedie, 1592, and in theFirst Part of the Contention, 1594.
It seems, however, certain that all the passages above quoted refer to a drama of Hamlet anterior to that by Shakespeare, and the same which is recorded in Henslowe'sDiaryas having been played at Newington in 1594 by "my Lord Admeralle and my lorde Chamberlen men, 9 of June, 1594, receved at Hamlet, viii, 5," the small sum arising from the performance showing most probably that the tragedy had then been long on the stage. As Shakespeare was a member of the Lord Chamberlain's Company at that time, it is certain that he must have been well acquainted with the older play ofHamlet, one of a series of dramas on the then favorite theme of revenge, aided by the supernatural intervention of a ghost.
There are a few other early allusions to the firstHamletwhich appear to deserve quotation. "His father's empire and government was but as thePoeticall Furie in a Stageaction, compleat, yet with horrid and wofull Tragedies: a first, but no second to anyHamlet; and that nowReuenge, iustReuengewas coming with his Sworde drawne against him, his royall Mother, and dearest Sister to fill up those Murdering Sceanes."—Sir Thomas Smithe'sVoiage and Entertainment in Rushia, 1605. "Sometimes would he overtake him and lay hands upon him like a catch-pole, as if he had arrested him, but furious Hamlet woulde presently eyther breake loose like a beare from the stake, or else so set his pawes on this dog that thus bayted him that, with tugging and tearing one another's frockes off, they both looked like mad Tom of Bedlam."—Decker'sDead Terme, 1608. "If any passenger come by and, wondering to see such a conjuring circle kept by hel-houndes, demaund what spirits they raise there, one of the murderers steps to him, poysons him with sweete wordes and shifts him off with this lye, that one of the women is falne in labor: but if any mad Hamlet, hearing this, smell villanie and rush in by violence to see what the tawny divels are dooing, then they excuse the fact, lay the blame on those that are the actors, and perhaps, if they see no remedie, deliver them to an officer to be lead to punishment."—Decker'sLanthorne and Candle-light, or the Bellman's Second Nights-Walke, 1609, a tract which was reprinted under more than one different title.
Mr. Collier, in hisFarther Particulars, 1839, cites a very curious passage—"a trout, Hamlet, with four legs"—which is given as a proverbial line in Clarke'sParoemiologia Anglo-Latina(orProverbs English and Latin), 1639. It is unnecessary to be too curious in searching for the exact meaning of the phrase, but, as Dr. Ingleby suggested to me, it is in all probability taken from the older play ofHamlet, which does not appear to have been entirely superseded at once by the new, or at least was long remembered by play-goers.
The preceding notices may fairly authorize us to infer that the ancient play ofHamlet—1. Was written by either an attorney or an attorney's clerk, who had not received a university education; 2. Was full of tragical, high-sounding speeches; 3. Contained the passage "There are things called whips in store," spoken by Hamlet; 4. Included a very telling brief speech by the Ghost in the two words "Hamlet, revenge!" 5. Was acted at the theatre in Shoreditch and at the playhouse at Newington Butts; 6. Had for its principal character a hero exhibiting more general violence than can be attributed to Shakespeare's creation of Hamlet.
As the olderHamletwas performed by the Lord Chamberlain's Company in the year 1594, it is possible that Shakespeare might then have undertaken the part of the Ghost, a character he afterward assumed in his own tragedy. There is a curious inedited notice of this personage in Saltonstall'sPicturæ Loquentes, 1635: "a chamberlaine is as nimble as Hamlet's ghost, heere and everywhere, and when he has many guests, stands most upon his pantofles, for hee's then a man of some calling."
There are a number of critics, following the lead of Coleridge, who tells us that Shakespeare's judgment is commensurate with his genius; but they speak of the former generally as if it were always unfettered, and neglect to add that it was continually influenced by the conditions under which he wrote, and that it was often his task to discover a route to a successful result through the tortuous angularities of a preconceived foreground. There is every reason to believe that this was the case with the tragedy ofHamletand, if so, it is certain that no genius but that of Shakespeare could have moulded the inartistic materials of a rude original into that harmonious composition, which, although it has certainly been tampered with by the players, and is therefore not the perfect issue of his free inspiration, is the noblest drama the world is ever likely to possess.
It must be recollected that in 1602 Shakespeare was in the zenith of his dramatic power. His tragedy ofHamletwas produced on the stage either in 1601 or 1602, as appears from the entry of it on the books of the Stationers' Company on July 26, 1602: "James Robertes—Entered for his copie under the handes of Mr. Pasfeild and Mr. Waterson, warden, a booke called theRevenge of Hamlett, Prince (of) Denmarke, as yet waslatelie actedby the Lo: Chamberleyne his servantes."
No copy of this date is known to exist, but a surreptitious and imperfect transcript of portions of the tragedy appeared in the following year under the title of "The Tragicall Historie of Hamlet, Prince of Denmarke. By William Shakespeare. As it hath been diuerse times acted by his Highnesse seruants in the Cittie of London: as also in the two Vniuersities of Cambridge and Oxford, and elsewhere. At London, printed for N. L. and Iohn Trundell, 1603." In the next year, 1604, N. L., who was Nicholas Ling, obtained by some means a playhouse copy of the tragedy, not a copy in the state in which it left the hands of the author, but representing in the main the genuine words of Shakespeare. It was published under the following title: "The Tragicall Historie of Hamlet, Prince of Denmarke. By William Shakespeare. Newly imprinted and enlarged to almost as much againe as it was, according to the true and perfect coppie. At London, Printed by I. R. for N. L., and are to be sold at his shoppe under Saint Dunston's Church in Fleetstreet, 1604." This impression was reissued in the following year, the title-page and a few leaves at the end, sigs. N. and O., being fresh-printed, the sole alteration in the former being the substitution of 1605 for 1604.
Hamletis not mentioned by Meres in 1598, and it could not have been written before 1599, in which year the Globe was erected, there being a clear allusion to that theatre in act ii, sc. 2. The tragedy continued to be acted after Shakespeare's company commenced playing at the Blackfriars Theatre, it being alluded to in a manuscript list, written in 1660, of "some of the most ancient plays that were played at Blackfriars." According to Downes, Sir William Davenant, "having seen Mr. Taylor of the Black-Fryars Company act it, who, being instructed by the author, Mr. Shaksepeur, taught Mr. Betterton in every particle of it."—Roscius Anglicanus, 1708. Roberts, in his answer to Mr. Pope'sPreface on Shakespeare, 1729, thinks that Lowin was the original Hamlet.
The date of 1601 for the production ofHamletappears to suit the internal evidence very well. That evidence decidedly leads to the conclusion that it could not have been written long before that time, and, without placing too much reliance on the general opinion that Shakespeare entirely laid aside his earlier style of composition at some particular era, that year is probably about the latest in which he would have written in the strain of the following lines, which, taken by themselves, might be assigned to the period of theTwo Gentlemen of Verona:
"Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister;And keep you in the rear of your affectionOut of the shot and danger of desire.The dearest maid is prodigal enoughIf she unmask her beauty to the moon:Virtue itself scapes not calumnious strokes:The canker galls the infants of the spring,Too oft before their buttons be disclos'd;And in the morn and liquid dew of youthContagious blastments are most imminent.Be wary, then; best safety lies in fear;Youth to itself rebels, though none else near."
"Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister;And keep you in the rear of your affectionOut of the shot and danger of desire.The dearest maid is prodigal enoughIf she unmask her beauty to the moon:Virtue itself scapes not calumnious strokes:The canker galls the infants of the spring,Too oft before their buttons be disclos'd;And in the morn and liquid dew of youthContagious blastments are most imminent.Be wary, then; best safety lies in fear;Youth to itself rebels, though none else near."
"Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister;
And keep you in the rear of your affection
Out of the shot and danger of desire.
The dearest maid is prodigal enough
If she unmask her beauty to the moon:
Virtue itself scapes not calumnious strokes:
The canker galls the infants of the spring,
Too oft before their buttons be disclos'd;
And in the morn and liquid dew of youth
Contagious blastments are most imminent.
Be wary, then; best safety lies in fear;
Youth to itself rebels, though none else near."
Were it not that the elder play ofHamletdid not belong to Shakespeare's company, these lines might lead to the conjecture that he had made some additions to it long before he wrote his own complete tragedy.
There was once in existence a copy of Speght's edition of Chaucer, 1598, with manuscript notes by Gabriel Harvey, one of those notes being in the following terms: "The younger sort take much delight in Shakespeare'sVenus and Adonis, but hisLucreceand his tragedy ofHamlet, Prince of Denmarke, have it in them to please the wiser sort." This note was first printed in 1766 by Steevens, who gives the year 1598 as the date of its insertion in the volume, but, observed Dr. Ingleby, "we are unable to verify Steevens' note or collate his copy, for the book which contained Harvey's note passed into the collection of Bishop Percy, and his library was burned in the fire at Northumberland House." Under these circumstances one can only add the opinions of those who have had the opportunity of inspecting the volume. Firstly, from the letter of Percy to Malone, 1803: "In the passage which extols Shakespeare's tragedy, Spenser is quoted by name among our flourishing metricians. Now this edition of Chaucer was published in 1598, and Spenser's death is ascertained to have been in January, 1598-1599, so that these passages were all written in 1598, and prove thatHamletwas written before that year, as you have fixed it." Secondly, from a letter from Malone to Percy, written also in 1803, in which he gives reasons for controverting this opinion: "When I was in Dublin I remember you thought that, though Harvey had written 1598 in his book, it did not follow from thence that his remarks were then written; whilst, on the other hand, I contended that, from the mention of Spenser, they should seem to have been written in that year; so that, like the two Reynoldses, we have changed sides and each converted the other; for I have now no doubt that these observations were written in a subsequent year. The words that deceive are 'our now flourishing metricians,' by which Harvey does not mean 'now living,' but now admired or in vogue; and what proves this is that in his catalogue he mixes the living and the dead, for Thomas Watson was dead before 1593. With respect to Axio Philus, I think you will agree with me hereafter that not Spenser, but another person, was meant. Having more than once named Spenser, there could surely be no occasion to use any mysterious appellation with respect to that poet. My theory is that Harvey bought the book in 1598 on its publication, and then sat down to read it, and that his observations were afterward inserted at various times. That passage, which is at the very end, and subjoined to Lydgate's catalogue, one may reasonably suppose was not written till after he had perused the whole volume."
The tragedy ofHamletis familiarly alluded to more than once in the play ofEastward Hoe, printed in 1605, in a manner which indicates that the former drama was very well established in the memories of the audience. There is a parody on one of Ophelia's songs which is of some interest in regard to the question of the critical value of the quarto of 1604; the occurrence of the word "all" before "flaxen" showing that the former word was incorrectly omitted in all the early quartos excepting in that of 1603. One of the subordinate characters inEastward Hoeis a running-footman of the name of Hamlet, who enters in great haste to tell the coachman to be ready for his mistress, whereupon Potkin, a tankard-bearer, says: "Sfoote, Hamlet, are you madde? Whether run you nowe? You should brushe up my olde mistresse."
There is an unsupported statement by Oldys to the effect that Shakespeare received but five pounds for his tragedy ofHamlet, but whether from the company who first acted it or from the publisher is not mentioned. This is the only information that has reached us respecting the exact emolument received by Shakespeare for any of his writings, but it cannot be accepted merely on such an authority. It is, however, worthy of remark that Greene parted with hisOrlandoto the Queen's Players for twenty nobles; so the sum named appears to have been about the usual amount given for a play sold direct from the author to a company, but in all probability, whenHamletwas produced, Shakespeare was playing at the Globe Theatre on shares.
Notwithstanding the extreme length of the tragedy ofHamlet, there is such a marvellously concentrative power displayed in much of the construction and dialogue that, in respect to a large number of the incidents and speeches, a wide latitude of interpretation is admissible, the selection in those cases from possible explanations depending upon the judgment and temperament of each actor or reader. Hence it may be confidently predicted that no æsthetic criticisms upon this drama will ever be entirely and universally accepted, and as certainly that there will remain problems in connection with it which will be subjects for discussion to the end of literary time. Among the latter the reason or reasons which induced Hamlet to defer the fulfilment of his revenge may perhaps continue to hold a prominent situation, although the solution of that special mystery does not seem to be attended with difficulties equal to those surrounding other cognate inquiries which arise in the study of the tragedy.
In respect to this drama, as to many others by the same author, the prophetic words of Leonard Digges may be usefully remembered—"Some second Shakespeare must of Shakespeare write." Until this miracle occurs, it is not likely that any æsthetic criticism on the tragedy will be successful; and certainly at present, notwithstanding the numbers of persons of high talent and genius who have discussed the subject, nothing has been, nor is likely to be, produced which is altogether satisfactory. The cause of this may perhaps to some extent arise from the latitude of interpretation the dramatic form of composition allows, to the appreciation of the minor details of a character, and the various plausible reasons that can often be assigned for the same line of action; something also may be due to the unconscious influence exercised by individual temperament upon the exposition of that character, and again much to the defective state of the text; but the reason of the general failure inHamletcriticism is no doubt chiefly to be traced to the want of ability to enter fully into the inspiration of the poet's genius.
It may, however, be safely asserted that the simpler explanations are, and the less they are biassed by the subtleties of the philosophical critics, the more likely they are to be in unison with the intentions of the author. Take, for instance, the well-established fact that immodesty of expression, the recollection derived, it may often be, accidentally and unwillingly from oral sources during the previous life, is one of the numerous phases of insanity; and not only are the song-fragments chanted by Ophelia, but even the ribaldry addressed to her by Hamlet, in the play-scene, vindicated, there being little doubt that Shakespeare intended the simulated madness of the latter through his intellectual supremacy to be equally true to nature, the manners of his age permitting the delineation in a form which is now repulsive and inadmissible.
The present favorite idea is that in Hamlet the great dramatist intended to delineate an irresolute mind depressed by the weight of a mission which it is unable to accomplish. This is the opinion of Goethe following, if I have noted rightly, an English writer in theMirrorof 1780. A careful examination of the tragedy will hardly sustain this hypothesis. So far from Hamlet being indecisive, although the active principle in his character is strongly influenced by the meditative, he is really a man of singular determination, and, excepting in occasional paroxsyms, one of powerful self-control. His rapidity of decision is strikingly exhibited after his first interview with the Ghost. Perceiving at once how important it was that Marcellus, at all events, should not suspect the grave revelations that had been made, although they had been sufficient to have paralyzed one of less courage and resolution than himself, he outwits his companions by banter, treating the apparition with intentional and grotesque disrespect and jocularity at a moment when an irresolute mind would have been terrified and prostrated.
Then Hamlet's powerful intellect not only enables him to recognize almost instantaneously the difficulties which beset his path, but immediately to devise a scheme by which some of them might be overcome. The compliance with the advice of his father's spirit, in strict unison with his own natural temperament, that the pursuit of his revenge was to harmonize with the dictates of his conscience, involving of course his duties to others, was attended by obstacles apparently insurmountable; yet all were to be removed before the final catastrophe, however acutely he might feel the effort of suppressing his desire for vengeance, that obligation the fulfilment of which was postponed by subtle considerations, and by fear lest precipitate action might leave him with "a wounded name." But this duty, it is important to observe, was never sought to be relinquished. The influences practically render delay a matter of necessity with him, and leaving a murderer to contend against one who, as he must have felt, would not have scrupled to design his assassination if at any moment safety could be in that way secured, his determination to assume the garb of insanity in the presence of the King and of those likely to divulge the secret, is easily and naturally explained.
Hamlet is wildly impetuous in moments of excitement, so that his utterances are not invariably to be accepted as evidences of his general nature. Much of the difficulty in the interpretation of the tragedy arises from the oversight of accepting his soliloquies as continuous illustrations of his character, instead of being, as they mostly are, transient emanations of his subtle irritability. Even in the midst of his impetuosity the current of violent thought was subject to a controlling interruption by a sudden reaction arising from the influence of reason; but it was natural on occasions that, stirred by his desire for revenge, he should doubt the validity of his reasons for delay. A wide distinction also must be drawn in the matter of time for vengeance, between action resulting from sudden and that from remoter provocation.
There seems to have been in Hamlet, so far as regards the commands of the apparition, an almost perpetual conflict between impulse and reason, each in its turn being predominant. The desire for revenge is at times so great that it is only by the strongest effort of will he resists precipitate action, then, losing no pretext to find causes for its exercise, overpowering the dictates of his penetrative genius. It is not rashness in Hamlet on one occasion and procrastination on another, but a power of instantaneous action that could be controlled by the very briefest period of reflection, the great feature in his intellect being a preternaturally rapid reflective power, and men of genius almost invariably do meditate before action.
Among the numerous unsupported conjectures respecting this tragedy may be mentioned that, when Shakespeare drew the characters of, 1. Hamlet; 2. Horatio; 3. Claudius; 4. The Queen, he had in his mind, 1. The Earl of Essex or Sir Phillip Sydney or himself; 2. Lord Southampton or Fulke Greville; 3. The Earl of Leicester; 4. Mary, Queen of Scots. Although some of these suggestions are ingeniously supported, there is not one of them which rests on any kind of real evidence or external probability.
Burbage was the first actor of Hamlet in Shakespeare's tragedy. His performance is spoken of in terms of high commendation, but there is no record of his treatment of the character, his delineation probably differing materially from that of modern actors. Stage tradition merely carries down the tricks of the profession, no actor entirely replacing another, and, in the case of Hamlet, hardly two of recent times, whose performances I have had the opportunity of witnessing, but who are or have been distinct in manner and expression, and even in idea. Few actors or readers can be found to agree respecting Shakespeare's conception of the character. This, however, may be safely asserted, that no criticism on Hamlet will ever be permanent which does not recognize the sublimity of his nature. Horatio understood Hamlet better than anyone, and his judgment of him doubtless expressed Shakespeare's own estimate: