HENRY   PEACHAM'S   CHRONOGRAM

The  Dating  of  Shakespeare's:   Titus  Andronicus

An attempt to solve the riddle of Shakespeare's identity has recently been directed at dating one or more of the later plays. It has been correctly argued that if it could be demonstrated conclusively that a specific play had been written in its entirety after the death of Edward de Vere, then this would be proof that the Earl of Oxford was not the author. Consequently, the current persuasive arguments given in support of William Shakespeare having been this earl's adopted pseudonym would be refuted. But this argument is one that cuts both ways. For, if it can be demonstrated conclusively that a specific play had already been written in its entirety while Shakespeare of Stratford was still a small boy, then he cannot be the same Shakespeare that wrote the works which collectively appear in the First Folio under that name. Some later incident must have conspired to marry together the man from Stratford and the plays that bear this name.

The one play that fits this criterion is Titus Andronicus. The majority of literary critics during the past who have voiced opinions regarding the writing of this play may be generalized to a single sentence penned by Doctor G. G. Gervinus, a former professor of Literature at Heidelberg University. He stated: "It is indisputable that Titus Andronicus, if a work of Shakespeare's at all, is one of his earliest writings." The reason so many have cast doubt upon Shakespeare's authorship of this play is because it differs in style from his others. Gervinus then gave reasons why it must have been written by Shakespeare. His two principal arguments being, firstly, that it was confirmed as one of Shakespeare's by Francis Meres, who listed it among the poet's works in 1598, and secondly, it was subsequently included in the First Folio edition of Shakespeare's collected plays published in 1623. A significant number of knowledgeable and eminent people, from different classes of society, which included the actors, Heminge and Condell; the writers, Meres and Jonson; the Oxbridge scholars, Digges and Holland; the Lord Chamberlain, William Earl of Pembroke and his brother, Philip, Earl of Montgomery, therefore endorsed their names to Shakespeare's authorship of this play in 1623. Ranged against these contemporaries of Shakespeare's are those with the later view that Titus Andronicus is so different in style from the author's other plays that it must have been written by another hand. However, the literary analysis that supports this position is based upon Shakespeare having been Stratford born. It is therefore largely irrelevant to any proposal concerning Oxford's authorship. Since the time span for having written all the plays, as well as the life experiences of the two men are far too different for an abstract package of criticism to be equally applicable to them both.

Instrumental in dating Titus Andronicus is the Peacham Document, which has taken its name from the name on the left side. Two other hands have added to it in the recent past, particularly during the 19th century. At the top one may just be able to discern Canon J. E. Jackson's note claiming that the document was - "Written by Henry Peacham - author of the Complete Gentleman". Canon Jackson at one time held the post of acting archivist to the 4th Marquess of Bath. On the right side, running vertically downwards, is the hand of John Payne Collier. He has written: "Henrye Peachams Hande 1595". Then, beside the text, there is another note stating - "So far from Shakspear Titus Andronicus Sc. 2." This refers to a scene-division which Collier adopted in his own edition of the play. As some may know, Collier was later denounced as a forger of Shakespearian evidence. His mission in life seems to have been to provide spurious annotations and forged entries to compensate for their obvious lack when researching Shakespeare's literary background.

At present, the Peacham Document is part of the Longleat Portland Papers, and was acquired from the 1st Marchioness of Bath, Elizabeth Cavendish Bentinck, the daughter of the Duchess of Portland. It was Lady Portland who, as Margaret Harley, had been heiress to the collections of the earls of Oxford. This title, of course, refers to the second creation of the Oxford earldom which was re-established in 1711 when Robert Harley became baron Harley, earl of Oxford and Mortimer.

The Peacham Document is therefore part of the Portland collection that originated from the Harley Manuscripts, and which also included the political papers of Sir Michael Hicks, the principal secretary to Lord Burghley. It was from among Hick's personal papers that this manuscript first emerged.

Let attention now be directed to the finely executed ink drawing at the top of the document. The caption beneath the picture explains the scene. But, because the caption is also a stage direction, and one that aptly fits the drawing, it should not to be confused with a 'compilation drawing'; as some commentators have previously suggested, perhaps in a rather vain attempt to reconcile it with the first publication of the play in 1594. A compilation drawing is easily recognizable by its content, which is aimed at capturing the storyline of a play by a single scene. The Peacham drawing is quite different, and does nothing whatever to suggest the revenge drama that is about to unfold. Furthermore, as will soon be evident, the action in the drawing is a visual aid for the dialogue that follows.

The reason for drawing special attention to this particular scene is because it portrays an episode in Titus Andronicus that does not occur in that same detail in any known edition of the play. As Professor J. Dover Wilson queried: "Why does the drawing seem to represent Tamora pleading for two sons, when in the play she has three sons and pleads for one only, her first-born Alarbus?" Furthermore, when Tamora does make her plea, Aaron is still a prisoner of war and should be absent from the scene. Yet, he is shown on the right, pointing a sword at Tamora's sons. At the same time, Titus' own two sons should be on stage alongside him. In the drawing they are absent. The two figures on the left are merely soldiers, for they are not dressed in the regal gowns that would identify them as sons of Titus.

This preliminary view of the sketch, along with a few pertinent observations, suggests that it was copied from a scene belonging to a different version of the play that has not survived, but from which its more modern adaptation was subsequently derived.

The dialogue beneath the picture does nothing to dispel this suspicion. It begins with a stage direction: "Enter Tamora pleading for her sons going to execution."  Professor Wilson again queries this by asking: "Why does he (Peacham) describe the Gothic princes as 'going to execution' when what happens in the play is not an execution but a sacrifice to the manes [souls of the dead] of the Andronici?" 

In the currently accepted version of the play, Tamora's speech occurs in Act One, Scene One, and this is immediately followed by the commencement of Titus' reply, which takes up 6 lines of dialogue. Not so on the Peacham Document. There, Tamora's speech is met with Titus' reply, and this occurs only as a single line, of which the first three words — "Patient yourself, madam" — are found in the first line, and the last three words — "die he must" — are drawn from the fifth line. 

Titus then turns his attention to Aaron, who according to the drawing is on stage, but in the play, as we know it, he is still a prisoner-of-war. Titus addresses him with two lines of dialogue that do not appear in any known version of the play: — "Aaron do you likewise prepare yourself / And now repent your wicked life." — Aaron replies to this charge with a speech of twenty lines. These do occur in the modern play, but not until four Acts later. And, even there, although Aaron answers a similar accusation — "Art thou not sorry for these heinous deeds?" — The question this time is posed by Lucius - not Titus. In fact, according to the Peacham Document, Lucius is not even on stage at the time.

To all these anomalies there is added one more: the peculiarity of Alarbus, the eldest son of Tamora. On the Peacham Document he is next to speak. But in each edition of the play, from its first printing in 1594 onwards, Alarbus is mute. He has no dialogue to speak. Yet the copyist of the Peacham Document was about to enter his speaking part, when, having reached the bottom of the page, and with no space left to complete Alarbus' opening remarks, he simply signals him to be the next speaker. This continuation of dialogue, commencing with Alarbus, is readily confirmed by the et cetera preceding it. This 'et cetera' is of particular importance, for it confirms the dialogue to be ongoing; as would be the case when a single and continuous extract was being copied from a more extensive script.

These discrepancies, all of which are easily confirmed, clearly point to a version of Titus Andronicus that is substantially different from all known publications that appeared from 1594 onwards, when the first bad quarto of the play was published anonymously. This therefore suggests, together with the evidence from the drawing, that the Peacham Document was copied from a much earlier version of the play: one that is now lost, but which predates 1594 by quite a few years.

Let us set the document aside for a moment, and consider the possibility of an earlier version of the play from the evidence available. Titus Andronicus was first published in 1594 as a pirated edition. It bore no author's name, but the play did claim to have been previously performed by three separate companies — those in service to the earl of Derby, the earl of Pembroke and the earl of Sussex. This suggests that the version printed in 1594 had, by then, been going the rounds for some years, quite apart from an even earlier version suspected from the evidence of the Peacham Document.

This conclusion is further reinforced by Ben Jonson's affirmation, written in 1614, which occurs in his induction to Bartholomew Fair. There, he states that: "He that will swear Jeronimo or Andronicus are the best plays yet, shall pass unexcepted at here as a man whose judgment shows it is constant, and hath stood these five and twenty, or thirty years." Jonson's first thoughts were to link Titus Andronicus with Thomas Kydd's The Spanish Tragedy: a topical play set at the time of Spain's conquest of Portugal in 1580. But his belief that both plays dated back 25 years became parried by second thoughts, and he quickly conceded that the time span may have been even longer — perhaps 30 years. Insofar as The Spanish Tragedy is concerned, this creates no problem, since Kydd's play is usually dated between 1585 and 1589. In fact, Jonson had already referred to this play in Cynthia's Revels, published fourteen years earlier. There, he had said: "The Spanish Tragedy…  departed a dozen years since." In other words, it had completed its first wave of popularity by 1588. But if we link Titus Andronicus with Kydd's Spanish Tragedy, it starts to create a crisis of belief with regard to the conventional idea of Shakespeare having arrived unknown from a remote town in Warwickshire, yet still being able to have his play immediately performed by a succession of top class companies. Conventional Stratford thinking is therefore forced to counter this conclusion by asserting that Jonson was incorrect to describe the play as being that old. It further contends that the statement appearing on the cover of the first edition of the play, which declared it to have previously been the property of three acting companies, was likewise false. 

But this argument is surely unsound. In the class-ridden society of post-feudal England, a publisher would never have dared take even one Lordship's name in vain, let alone three, unless the references made were true and inoffensive. Repeatedly, it seems, whenever there is evidence that fails to support Shakespeare's literary connection with Stratford, some overriding authority steps in to decree that this evidence must be false. In the language of modern politics, it is called 'damage limitation', and has been used many times by the literary professorship to protect William Shakespeare's reputation — as taught by them.

Particular importance must now be given to the Latin abbreviations that date the Peacham Document. The system used by Peacham was a medieval response to the need for abbreviation. It required that the initial letter of a word be written in the normal manner, followed by the final letter, or letters in superscript form. Many examples of this practice subsequently found their way into the English language. Even in the present time it is still possible to find instances of this form of abbreviation lingering on; for example: N^o for Number; derived from Numero, is still used in some cases. The date on the Peacham Document should therefore be a straightforward exercise in expanding these written abbreviations. Unfortunately, this has not proved to be the case. The third symbol has proved to be an insurmountable obstacle for all those who have made the attempt. Indeed, there is even uncertainty as to whether it was intended as a 'q' or a 'g'.

Hence, either  Anno   m^o q^o g q^to  or  Anno   m^o q^o q q^to  gives the required date.

Before solving this chronogram, the errors contained in previous attempts at finding a solution require attention be given to the three abbreviations carrying superscripts. These make it plain that the date has been written in the conventional form of 'thousands', 'hundreds', 'tens' and 'units'. There is no reason to doubt that m^o = millesimo (1000); that q^o = quingentesimo (500) and q^to = quarto (4), although some may see q^to as quinto (5).

The date given by Peacham is therefore 15_4 or possibly 15_5. But what is to be made of the third symbol? The 'q' or 'g' can only refer to a number from zero to nine. Furthermore, whether it is seen as a 'q' or a 'g' it is alone in not carrying a superscript. Consequently, it cannot represent an abbreviated word in the same sense that the letters either side represent abbreviated words. This simple deduction is confirmed by the fact that no word exists in the Latin language for which either 'q' or 'g' provides a suitable abbreviation with which to complete this chronogram. For example, the letter 'q' for quinquagesimo (50) must be rejected as too early for a Shakespeare play. However, in the Greek language, the letter gamma 'g' means either three, third or thrice, because it occupies this position in the Greek alphabet. By transition to Latin, the letter 'g' would therefore refer to seven or seventh. In fact, the Oxford English Dictionary confirms this interpretation by stating that — "g is used to denote anything occupying the seventh place in a series." And since seventy occupies the seventh place in a series of tens, we can let 'g' be representative of this number. This will then produce —  Anno   m^o q^o g q^to  equivalent to: The Year 1575 (or possibly 1574).

The question this raises is: Why should Peacham have departed from the conventional method of abbreviating Latin words to insert the symbolic letter, 'g'  in place of septuagesimo (70)? Surely, it may be argued, had he intended to write 1575, he would have written this as: — Anno   m^o q^o s^o q^to. In fact, the answer is no, he would not. This representation of the date is ambiguous, and easily confused with 1565, for which sixty is written in Latin as sexagesimo, and therefore has the same abbreviation as septuagesimo. So, it can be seen there was a genuine need to distinguish between 1565 and 1575, and this difficulty was apparently overcome through the symbolic use of the letter 'g' in place of the conventional abbreviation, s^o. There is also the fact that the manuscript was never written with international scrutiny in mind. An element of private language between friends is therefore easily understandable, and as the manuscript was apparently composed as a gift, or favour, for Lord Burghley's secretary, it should be viewed in that light.

Because there exists an authoritative body of writers, editors of Titus Andronicus and scholars interested in pursuing their own interpretation of Peacham's chronogram, the following table has been inserted with a set of relevant dates and their Latin abbreviations. These can then be compared with any alternative suggestions that are proposed for the solution of the problem.

The Stratford response to this is easy to predict. In 1575 William Shaxpere (as the name was then both spelt and pronounced) was 10 years old, rising 11. A later date is therefore essential if this particular William is to continue as a serious candidate for the authorship of Shakespeare's plays. Yet, none of the later dates correspond with the chronogram on Peacham's Document. And, even if this difficulty were ignored — brushed aside — there still remains the problem of the document having been copied from a different; i.e., earlier version of the play. With so many not insignificant difficulties surrounding a later dating, the time may have arrived to begin questioning the motives of those who so persistently reject factual evidence whenever it fails to conform to their belief.

Who, then, was Henricus Peacham, the man whose name appears above the chronogram? There is possibly a clue to his identity in the manner which it is printed; that is, with a Latin forename preceding an English surname. Clerics were habitually writing church records in this form during the sixteenth century. Few will fail to recall the baptismal record in the parish church of Holy Trinity at Stratford-on-Avon: 'Gulielmus filius Johannes Shakspere' — William, son of John Shakspere. As with Henricus Peacham, the Christian names are given in Latin and the surname in English. While this alone may not prove Peacham's clerical status, it does suggest prima facie evidence that the man we are seeking was a minister of the Church.

In 1575, at the church of St. Mary's in the parish of North Mimms at Hatfield in Hertfordshire, there was a cure named Henry Peacham. His responsibility was for the care of the souls of those in his parish, some of whom would have been employed at Hatfield House, close by; a favourite palace of Queen Elizabeth's and the first seat of her government. The grounds of Hatfield House run alongside the Parish of North Mimms, and it would have been wholly in the course of duty for Henry Peacham to have sometimes visited his parishioners at the House, and to be known and recognized there.

Quite apart from being a cure, Henry Peacham was also an author. In 1576, just one year after the date on the Peacham Document, he published a book entitled: The Garden of Eloquence conteyning the figures of Grammar and Rhetorick, from whence may be gathered all manners of Flowers, Colours, Ornaments, exornations, forms and fashions of speech. This, he dedicated to John Aylmer, the Bishop of London. In 1593, the book was re-issued, this time with a dedication to Sir John Puckering. Three years earlier, he had also published a sermon concerning the three last verses of the first chapter of Job, which he dedicated to the Countesses of Cumberland and Warwick.

Quite clearly, Henry Peacham was a man of letters and learning, with a particular interest in grammar and the English language. We may also discern that he was very well connected among the upper levels of society. Furthermore, his authorial interest in the English language extended to plays and the theatre, for it is known that he attended performances given by Richard Tarleton, the principal comedy actor of that period.

With this background, it is entirely reasonable to assume that the reverend Henry Peacham would have been included among the gentlemen guests invited for a performance of any play put on for the Queen's entertainment at Hatfield House. The sketch, illustrating a scene from Titus Andronicus, which appears on the Peacham Document therefore strongly suggests that this was, indeed, the man who drew it after having witnessed the play in 1575. And the most likely place for him to have seen it was as a guest at the Queen's great House at Hatfield, adjacent to his parish at North Mimms. This conclusion also appears to have been anticipated by Professor J. Dover Wilson, who wrote that the sketch was "without doubt" executed by an artist who "depicts equally without doubt, what he actually saw at a performance of the play."

Upon this basis, let us now consider one possible reason why the Peacham Document came into existence. As stated earlier, it first emerged from among the Harley papers that had been acquired from Sir Michael Hicks. In 1575 Michael Hicks was one of two secretaries employed by Lord Burghley. The knighthood Hicks subsequently received was not bestowed upon him until August 1604.

At the beginning of 1575, Hicks was thirty-one years of age. He had been educated at Trinity College Cambridge, and from there, at the age of nineteen, he had entered Lincoln's Inn to study law. He was the eldest son of Robert Hicks of Bristol, and his mother, Juliana, was the daughter and heiress of William Arthur, of Clapham, formerly in the county of Surrey. It seems that Sir William Cecil recognized Hick's potential at an early age, for the young man was invited to join the Cecil household long before he began training for the position of secretary to Queen Elizabeth's chief minister.

At court, Hicks was described as "very witty and jocose". He was also a noted collector of Roman memorabilia, and he filled many notebooks to that effect, for it was said of him that: "[he] was well skilled in philological learning, and had read over the polite Roman historians and moralists; out of which authors he made large collections, especially of the moral and wise sentences out of which he filled divers paper-books, still remaining in the family." The attraction of the Peacham Document to a man of Hicks' taste, with its dramatic Roman content, is at once appealing. What is more, as secretary to Lord Burghley, he would have been present at Hatfield House during the year 1575. The presence of both men, Henry Peacham and Michael Hicks, at the same location in the same year, and with both men attending a performance of Titus Andronicus provides ample opportunity for the preparation of the Peacham Document and its acquisition by Michael Hicks. Nor can it pass remark that Peacham was then in the process of publishing his book on the eloquence of the English language. A subject that was close to Hicks' heart, and written by a cleric and a scholar who ministered in the church close to the House. The opportunity for both men to have met and conversed must overwhelm any denial to the contrary.

The Stratford faithful—faith being the operative word when there is a lack of substantive evidence—who cannot be relied upon to even date the Peacham Document correctly, who have no convincing idea as to how Sir Michael Hicks came to possess it, and who are wholly incapable of providing an intelligent reason as to why the illustration, together with the attendant dialogue describe a scene and speeches that differ from the modern version of the play, are nevertheless united upon one point. Henry Peacham junior, the son of the reverend Henry Peacham of North Mimms, was the copyist. But, how can that be? In 1575, Henry Peacham junior was, at best, still in his mother's womb. He was not born until 1576. To overcome this obstacle, the tangled web of deception woven around the life of the Stratford man extends to incorporate an imaginative date for the Peacham chronogram, with further imaginative leaps that allow Peacham junior to become the accepted artist and copyist of the manuscript: all of which passes as modern scholarship.

The suggestion that the son of the reverend Henry Peacham had been the originator of the document was, in fact, seriously considered by Professor J. Q. Adams, but he rejected the idea with the statement that: "the elaborate and detailed drawing at the top of the Titus document seems to be not in the style of, and very distinctly superior in technique to, the numerous drawings we have from Peacham's pen." Adams also noted that the holograph manuscript of Henry Peacham the younger's Emblemata Varia, in the Folger Library, showed no similarity to the hand that wrote the Titus document. And, were that not enough, he also stressed that the younger Peacham's signature was at variance with that on the document. However, this last observation needs to be qualified. The name Henricus Peacham appearing on the Titus manuscript has been printed. It is not a signature. Each letter in the name has been separately formed, and none are joined together. To suppose this to be Peacham's signature is to suppose him incapable of signing his name using joined-up writing, which, of course, is absurd. The conclusion must therefore be that any attempt to compare Peacham's printed name with his son's printed name are likely to result in some comparisons, attended by as many differences. Whereas, evaluating Peacham's printed name alongside his son's genuine signature would be expected to result in some form of contrast. It therefore seems that Professor Adams compared young Peacham's genuine signature with his father's printed name, and found no correspondence. Whereas, later commentators have compared young Peacham's printed name with that printed on the Titus manuscript, and by supposing them to be actual signatures, have concluded that there are enough similarities between the two to support acceptance that the same hand was responsible for both. It is, of course, this mistaken belief that Peacham's name on the manuscript is a signature, that has allowed Henry Peacham, the younger, to be identified as the author and artist of the Titus manuscript.

The false belief that Henry Peacham junior was the copyist has, however proved to be an excellent convenience for supporting the premise that William of Stratford wrote Titus Andronicus. But it is quite unsupported by available evidence. There is also the inconvenient fact to be overcome that young Peacham was a student at Cambridge from 1593 onwards, until he finally completed his Master of Arts degree in 1598. It was then that he complained at being "Rawlie torn" from university and thrown on to his own resources. For want of a profession he became the master of a free school at Wymondham in Norfolk, where he remained until his father's death in 1605. A distant prospect, one might say, from having then been the copyist of a scene from a play at Court that so obviously differed from the one published and performed during the 1590's.

To conclude, the available evidence points directly towards the reverend Henry Peacham having been the copyist in the year 1574 or more likely 1575. His habit of abbreviating Latin words in the style with which the date has been written is also evident in the dedication he wrote for his book, The Garden of Eloquence.  His name, too, written in the style of clerics at that time is a further indication of his identity. There is also the manner in which the date was written. This is indicative of a man who was educated in the late medieval tradition when Latin dominated all aspects of education. Young Peacham, however, was an amateur mathematician who mixed with others that were interested in the numerical sciences. One would therefore have expecteded him to write the date using conventional Hindu-Arabic numbers, had he been the author. Then there is the close proximity of Peacham senior and Hicks at Hatfield House, especially during the time the document was copied. Collectively, the evidence points overwhelmingly to the Reverend Peacham as the true author of the Titus manuscript.

Finally, to put Titus Andronicus in its proper context, one may see it as the earliest surviving work of Edward de Vere's, and written in his early twenties, which places it in the first half of the 1570s. This would then explain its Seneca-like characteristics. Before 1575, de Vere had only the classics to model his plays upon. But after he returned from a year on the continent, and with his mind filled by the experiences of renaissance Italy, his outlook, particularly to playwriting, would have broadened. Several years after he returned from this European tour, and with the leisure to review some of his earlier work, he re-fashioned the play, and subsequently released it to the earl of Derby's players, from whom it passed to those of Pembroke, and then to Sussex's men. It was this revised play that was to become the pirated edition published in 1594, and which contains the discrepancies between the original, formally seen and partially copied by Peacham in 1575.

content

References

Gervinus, G. G. Shakespeare Commentaries. Smith Elder & Co., London, 1883.
Adams, Joseph Quincy. Introduction to Titus Andronicus (first Quarto of 1594). New York and London, 1936.
Wilson, J. Dover. "Titus Andronicus on the Stage in 1595" Shakespeare Survey I. Cambridge University Press, London, 1948.
Waith, Eugene M. Introduction to Titus Andronicus. Oxford University Press, London and New York, 1984.
Bate, Jonathan. Introduction to Titus Andronicus. Routledge, London and New York, 1995.
Berry, Herbert. The Date on the Peacham Manuscript, Shakespeare Bulletin - 5, Spring 1999.