The Sun.
London, England, 1867-02-20 00:00:00

The Dedicat'on to Shakspere's Sonnets.

The following exquisitely ingenious suggestion
of an explanation to the hitherto all but inscrutable
enigma of the Dedicatory Page prefixed to the first
edition of " The Sonnets of Shakspere" is thrown
out in last Saturday's:id/ewe/1m by a correspondent
of that journal signing himself " Philarete Chasles."
First, however—that is, before giving this ingenious
hypothesis of Philarete Chasles's—it will be as well
to observe that in the letter addressed by him to the
..,ltlienxion under date " Palais de l'lustitute, Paris,
9th February, 1867"—the writer Speaks of Mr.
Gerald Massey's recent book about the Sonnets, and
of one upon the same subject now about to appear
from his own hand. Mr. Massey's ability he ad-
mires so much that although he in no way coin-
,cidesin his views in regard to the 6onneta,.le pro,
poses to dedicate his own work upon those Sonnets
to him—Mr. Massey. In fact, he says, in
this :

Although I cannot alWays agree with him, I admire
Mr. Massey's talent ; and to Him I intend to dedicate my
humbler volume on Shaksporo's Sonnets.

As the form of my dedication explains my reading of a
puzzle which remains unsolved, you will perhaps allow me
to quote here :
TO . THE . SUBTLE . EXPOUNDER . OF .
TILE . SIIAKSPERIAN . SONNETS .
MR. P. C. ALL . HONOURS .
AND . THAT . REWARD .

DUE .
TO .

HIS . MOST-ERUDITE . SAGACITY .

WISIIETH .
THE . WELL WISHING .
ADVENTURER . IN .
SETTING .
FORTH .

H. P..
• Henry Pion, the Parisian Editor and Printer.

To . The . Onlie . Begetter . Of .
These . Insuing . Sonnets .
Mr. V. IL fill . Happinesse
And . That . Etcrnitie .
Promised .
By
Our . Ever . Living . Poet .
Wisheth .
The .
Adventurer . In .
Setting .
Forth .

TT.

The above is an exact copy of the famous dedica-
tion of Thomas Thorpe. Why Mr. Massey wastes
any doubts on the very evident sense of the words
which I reproduce is more than I can understand.
Most dedications of the Elizabethan period are
written in the same form, the name of the dedicator
following closely that of the dedicatee, and the verb
being left at the end of the sentence.
But, says Mr. Gerald Massey, why divide a single
sentence into two parts ? I answer, that 'Thomas
Thorpe's addition is a mere signature, a flourish,
a postscriptum. I answer, that the great man of
the batch is the one first mentioned, the begetter,
the only true creator, the father of Shakspere's
Sonnets, Southampton. He figuros at the head of
the inscription, crowned with immortality, while
T. T. remains humbly crouching at the base, and
W. H. kneels in an obscure clrner.

Wbo is the begetter of Shakspere's genius ?
Lord Southampton.

Who is the timid adventurer, T. T., who fears to
lose his money and wishes well, hoping with a gentle
sigh that the enterprise may beprofitable?—Thomas
Thorpe (the publisher).
And, lastly, who is the still more bashful " well-
wisher?" 'Who is this W. H.? To unravel this mys-
tery seems the most difficult part of our task.
-"'Who is this W. H., who does not even claim a
whole line for himself, and advances, hat in hand,
with bended knee, requesting our great Lord to
excuse him, asking pardon from the begetter of the
poems which he dares to print with the help of the
publisher Thomas Thorpe?
IVho is W.H. ? •

W. 11. is clearly a man of small note, a timid
man : but he has a right to dictate the book to
Lord Southampton. What kind of right ? has he
collected the scattered poems, the sibyline leaves,
which have fallen, shaken by the tempest, from the
aspen tree of passion, love and mediation of Shak-
spere's genius—to be handed from lord to lady,
from lady to lord, circulating among the author's
private friends? My first idea, which the Athoiccum
had the kindness to record (No. 1787, Jan. 25,
1862), led me to believe that IV. H. was William
Herbert, Earl of Pembroke. Maturer reflection
induces me to abandon that ground. A man of
the world, a knight of the Garter, a Court-fa-
vourite, could scarcely submit, especially in the
proud days of Elizabeth's reign, to such a forget-
fulness of his rank and titles.

After due consideration, and some obstinate peer-
ing into old books, I remain convinced that Lord
Pembroke and W. H. are not the same person. But
who was he? I wandered through the Hughes',
Hewes', Harpmans, Hartmans, Heywoods,
Halla-
ways, liolloways, Heartseases, Hickmans, Homers,
Horobys, Ilutchinsons, and others who happened
to have aW. for their baptismal initial. The man
can have been but a 211ister or even a Magter ; still,
he must have been rather intimate, or at least fami-
liarly acquainted, with the poet, whom he salutes in
the most hail-fellow-well-met style. _ .

I see but one person in whom the two requisite
conditions could be fulfilled. He must, about the
time of the publication of the Sonnets, not only
have been an inhabitant of London, but often and
necessarily with Shakspere. The great thinker,
after many years of hard labour as actor, author
and manager, probably tired of the turmoil of the
metropolis, had then wade up his mind, counted
his savings, built his future abode, settled his
accounts with his partners, and was ready to retire
to New Place, in order to enjoy a dignified rural
repose. He was loved and courted by the whale
community of Stratfordians ; some would wish to
make an inroad on his purse ; others sought his
patronage. We know of no quarrel between him,
his cousins, half-brothers, or nephews. That the
brother of his wife Ann Hathaway (whom he mar-
ried when he was still in his teens—a right stron,,
woman, who survived him for six years)—that
William Hathaway (W. II.) should have visited his
relative, William Shakspete, cannot be a matter of
doubt. That those visits may have become more
frequent and protracted at the time of Shakspere's
projected withdrawal from London, when he had
to draw up his inventories and arrange his papers,
does not seem an idle surmise. 1 use the word
surmise purposely. All Shaksperiau facts, if we
except some dates, are but conjectures. Let us ac-
cept the most likely. Whatever may be the
shrewdness, the sagacity, the divining art of the
guesser, we must rest satisfied with a mere calcu-
lation of probabilities, partaking moreor less of
mathematical exactness.

Without rashly venturing to affirm—and putting
forward some conjectures (which iu such a matter
have a right to claim a hearing, but nothing more),
I say that W. H. and William Hathaway may be
identical ; that Shakspere, whose youthful verses
made much noise, had probably kept rough draughts,
copies and duplicates of his fugitive pieces, seems
also very probable. He thought little about glory,
publicity, and literary rewards; this is most unques-

.5-'
...ii.
k5).....,-
19", 't--
tr_
• tionably proved by the incorrect sta . it'
~..1.,!,„,,,...„,,,-. *
left his dramas, and by the testirn s.- ...--'5 •:;77.• 444 leagues, who became his publishers a '.:11^","•-:er- v*
- - I
His carelessness in this respect is one o II CZ4 - ‘
curious anomalies recorded in the history Igi • ',I.
ture.
Well, he cared little about his Poems, either
amatory or dramatic. He had made his fortune,
and was tired with the battle of life, so valiantly
waged by him during twenty long years. This
being the case, if the brother of his wife, then a
young man, begged from his generosity the gift of
those scattered, loose, unarranged poems, of those
studies, imitations from the Italian, juvenile cs,:ays,
pasionate utterings, sentimental effusions, left all
topsy-turvy, dateless, nameless, inobably written
on separate sheets (for what man of letters is not
aware of the chaotic stats in which such old papers
are generally left ?)---if W. 11., or William Hath-
away, who perhaps was uo stranger to the monel--
griping propensities of the family, requested kom
his illustrious relative to give Lim (W. II.) the
right of publishing the ?lever-imprinted Sonnets,—
how could Shakspere refuse to comply? It was
a very good bargain for Shakspere himself. The
Sonnets were really Lord Southampton's property,_
that noble and impassioned gentleman of the Sydney
a:hool being the godfather, the truest begetter (Be .--v
and Ge, the Teutonic roots indicating acquisition
and creation,—Southampton, I repeat, being the
real Minerva, the Begetter and fecundating pow
of Shakspere's Muse. The Sonnets belonged (Be_
Longed) to him; for they were made after his
fashion, in the mood of Surrey's, Spenser's, and
Sydney's poetry.

In 1606 and 1609 Southampton was following
his stormy and sturdy career, travelling by land
and sea, fighting through clouds and smoke. IVas
it not a sort of breach of friendship to print, to
render public, the Sonnets which, though ad-
dressed by Shakspere to several persons, and
"alluding to many people and to many events, had
',pen inspired by Southampton alone?
~slowing tha thread of our very simple
likely imaginings, we may fancy that William
Hathaway was made aware of the difficulty by the
poet whose tact never deserted him through the
whole course of his life, and who, though attached
to Essex, to James, to Southampton, was clever
enough to avoid being embroiled in their dangerous
plots, but remained true to friendship, and invin-
cibly devoted to Southampton.
A manuscript requires a publisher; the Sonnets
wanted one. Here steps forward the famous Thorpe.
He was, as appears from the little we know of his
life, a rather odd man ; literary, priggish, senten-
tious, and a lover of erudite riddles. Mr. Gerald
Massey, in his useful work, produces specimens of the
liolophernes-AlalVolio stylo of that conceited pub-
lisher. If William Hathaway, having in his pos-
session the disorderly matter of the never-before-
imprinted (and never-to-be-understood) Sonnets,
chanced to meet Thorpe, and asked him to print
them, no doubt the bookseller consented, but with
a reserve. • He stood, of course, in awe of South-
ampton, and concocted for Hathaway the enig-
matical dedication upon which so many pates and
poetical annotators have floundered and been
wrecked.

"Pray, my Lord (so says the good rustic to
Southampton), excuse the liberty we take, Mr. Editor
and I, in printing the poems of my brother-in-law,
William Shakspere.. I am aware they are yours,
though Shakspere wrote them. Shakspere is our
poet, you know. He is England's poet. lam ids
by my sister's marriage, as he is yours by friendship
and literary relationship. You may forgive our
breach of trust., since, in these very Sonnets, your
name is gloriously emblazoned, crowned with im-
mortality. As I have no authority from you, my
lord, I dare not mention your name in full, and
hope you will remain satisfied with my modest
Weave."

Assuredly I am far from swearing to the absolute
truth of these possibilities, the links of which agree,
but which cannot bear the test of a judicial inquiry.
I arer only, End maintain (to use the energetic
language of Mr. Massey) that my explanation is
simple,. probable, without a flaw ; that it has in its
favour the date of the publication, and the character
of the persons concerned. It harmonises with
Southa►r.pton's fiery pride, with William Hath-
away's humble position, with Shakspere's estab-
lished reputation and literary habits, and, last of
all, with Thorpe's eccentric personality, which ap-
pears in strong light at the end of the dedication,
and shows itself in the flourish of his signature.
" Well," says the Malvolio bookseller, " must I,
the capitalist., the man who ventures his money
and his credit, must I, T. T., be debarred from the
benefit of publicity ? No ! I will have room and be
permitted to show my honourable face. You, my
Lord, arc the begetter, and Mr. William Hathaway
is the go-between ; but I, Thomas Thorpe, the
money'd man, am the adventurer, and say so. May
I not lose my money !"
Such is my view of that business.