THE  SHAKESPEARE  ALLONYM

The controversy  concerning   Shakespeare's  identity  continues  to  divide  opinion  ONLY because  there  were   two  shakespeares.  one  was  the  man  who  wrote  the  works  of  William   Shakespeare.  The  other  was  his  allonym - an  actual  person  by  that  name  who  agreed  to  assume  the  author's  mantle  for  a  price.

PART  2  OF  THE  evidence

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The evidence from Robert Greene's Groats-Worth of Wit suggests that by the Autumn of 1592, Edward de Vere was getting ready to promote his allonym, William Shakespeare, into the public domain. The vehicle he chose for this was a lengthy poem called Venus and Adonis.

The ruse was simple. Henry Wriothesley, the 3rd Earl of Southampton, had recently been presented to Queen Elizabeth at Court. It was at once a signal for him to become the target for every poet and writer who was seeking a patron.

Whenever any promising young aristocrat made his debut at Court there was a rush of poets dedicating books to him, and a stupid youngster like the Earl of Southampton could hardly come of age before there was a cluster of anxious writers hoping to be admitted to the magic circle of his purse strings. The case of William Shakespeare who succeeded in getting this particular earl for his patron and then abandoned the relationship is so exceptional as to stand alone in the history of Elizabethan letters.   (Ben Jonson: Marchette Chute).

The close relationship between young Southampton and Shakespeare - whoever he was - is convincingly expressed in the Sonnets. Based upon the developing evidence that Shakespeare was de Vere, it becomes easy to understand how this impressionable youngster was persuaded to lend his name in patronage to the poetical works of Oxford's allonym. As a point of historical fact, it was even rumoured at the time that this young earl was the changeling son of an illicit union between Oxford and the Queen. The fact that Southampton's father was in prison at the time of his son's conception gave an unfortunate impetus to the rumour.

The Queen found him [Earl of Oxford] a most unsatisfactory favourite, yet there was something appealing in his eccentric, dissolute ways, and after anger and tears would come reconciliation. Her continued favour . . . . was to set in train the wildly improbable story that they were lovers, and the Earl of Southampton was their offspring.   (The Life and Times of Elizabeth I: Neville Williams, p.114)

Some commentators persist in maintaining that no evidence exists at all to connect Oxford with Wriothesley. But the talk at the time rumouring  a paternal relationship between the two men refutes this claim. The rumour must have had substance for it to have been credible. This is not to say it was true. It is merely to point out that Oxford and Southampton were to be seen together often enough for that idea to quicken into a rumour.

Venus and Adonis was published in 1593, only months after the publication of Greene's Groats-Worth of Wit, which first gave notice of Shakespeare's presence in the world of letters. Prefacing the poem was the much quoted dedication written by William Shakespeare to the young Earl of Southampton. The author's name at the bottom of this address is the only place in the book where it is to be found. The title page is barren of authorship. The poem, which concerns the love Venus bore for Adonis, is often referred to as "Ovidian" because of its erotic content. Yet, in Elizabeth's outwardly religious kingdom, with her clergy frequently sermonizing upon issues of public morality, no less a person than the Archbishop of Canterbury issued the licence for its publication. The mystery mentioned by Marchette Chute (refer above) is  therefore compounded by this further oddity.

The poem became an instant success, and was followed a year later by a second classical story, Lucrece, which was entered in the Stationers Register on May 9th. The full title - The Rape of Lucrece, together with the name, William Shakespeare, next to the title, did not appear in print until 1616, the year in which Oxford's allonym died. Once more, the poem was prefaced by a dedication from the hand of William Shakespeare to his young 'patron', and again, that was the only place where the name appeared. As if to endorse the identity of Shakespeare, the man chosen for both publications was Richard Field,  a tanner's son from Stratford upon Avon who had come to London and bought into John Harrison's print shop. 

In subsequent years, both poems were repeatedly reprinted, such was their popularity. By 1602, Venus and Adonis had gone through nine editions. By 1640, that number had risen to fifteen. Lucrece numbered six reprints up to the time of 1616. This introduces a third mystery. If Shakespeare was the man conventional teaching claims him to have been, why did he not cash in on this success with more poems? It was certainly not from any disinterest in money, for he lent at profit, traded in farm produce, acquired property to advantage, and never hesitated to sue in court for both costs and outstanding payments when someone reneged on a debt. The manifestly consistent answer to this question is that there were two Shakespeares. The true author, because of his nobility, could not dirty his palm by accepting money for his labour. His allonym, however, being of the trading class, was the ever ready recipient of revenue from whatever source presented itself.

With two poems popularly acclaimed, it is time to consider why the enterprise ended so abruptly. The answer is, undoubtedly, the curiosity that was aroused by this 'new poet on the block', and the satirical response made by some writers to the discovery that it was all a ruse to get one particular nobleman's poetry into print. Two weeks after Venus and Adonis had been entered for publication on the Stationers Register, Gabriel Harvey published Pierce's Supererogation in which he acknowledged how superior were the works of Spenser and Sidney, which he likened to:   " . . . . the violets of March or the primroses of May: Till the one began to sprout in M. Robert Greene [and] the other to blossom in M. Pierce Penniless, as in the rich garden of poor Adonis." Then, with the further acknowledgement that Venus and Adonis was not yet in print, Harvey disingenuously remarks: "Who can conceive . . . . any possible account of mine own discourses were that fair body of the sweetest Venus in print . . . ." Harvey had earlier signaled that the author of Adonis was "M. Pierce Penniless". Note that whereas Harvey has no compunction about naming Robert Greene outright, he is impelled to mention Pierce Penniless only by a pseudonym. Clearly, this is a person whose real name has to be concealed from the common tongue. The clues in the name would, however, have been easily recognized by those close to Edward de Vere. For example, the first part  refers to a phrase: "the piercing pain", which was part of a refrain written by de Vere and subsequently mocked by Spenser; the second part refers to de Vere's near bankrupt state, brought on after the death of his wife, and the loss of his family homes in London and in Essex. Note, too, that in this second reference, Harvey describes the author of Venus and Adonis as: "redoubtably armed with the complete harness of the bravest Minerva." Minerva was the Roman name for the Greek goddess Athene who had been plucked fully armed from the head of Zeus. [A genesis not unlike that of Shakespeare who had been plucked fully literate from the brow of Oxford.] A description of Athene attired in full harness and brandishing a spear was initially "one of the ancient Seven Wonders of the World".

The most famous statue of this goddess was by Phidias, the Greek sculptor. It was wood encased with ivory; the drapery, however, was of solid gold. It represented the goddess standing, clothed with a tunic reaching to her ankles, a spear in her left hand, and an image of Victory (four cubits high = about six feet) in her right. She is girded with the aegis, has a helmet on her head, and her shield rests by her side on the ground. The entire height was nearly forty feet.  [Brewer - The Dictionary of Phrase and Fable, p.841].

Harvey leaves no room for doubt that this description bears a fitting resemblance to "M. Pierce Penniless", the author of Venus and Adonis, which is soon to be published. Since the author of this poem wrote his name as "William Shakespeare", the implication must be that these two are one and the same person.

Edmund Spenser, like Marlowe, Nashe, Greene and Harvey, would also have been one of those who were party to the secret of Shakespeare's allonym, and he may also have wished to help it along. Professor Gervinus, late of Heidelberg University, followed the 18th century scholar, Edmond Malone, by proposing that Aëtion, in Spenser's Colin Clout's Come Home Again, was an obvious reference to Shakespeare. 

  "Edmund Spenser . . . . was among the first to reverence Shakespeare's genius, whom as early as 1594, . . . . he extols under the pastoral name Aëtion, with an allusion to its warlike name, because his 'Muse, full of high thoughts' invention, doth, like himselfe, heroically sound.' "  (Shakespeare Commentaries: G. G.  Gervinus, p.43). 

It was the satirists, however, who made the most damaging response. On 17 May 1594, the Stationers Register recorded the forthcoming publication: Oenone and Paris by an author with the initials T.H. In almost every instance this poem proved to be a mocking parody of Venus and Adonis. Both stories were based upon themes of unrequited love that had originally been written by Ovid. Shakespeare's came from the Metamorphoses, and T.H.'s from the Heroides. Where Shakespeare addresses his 'patron' with the words: "the first heir of my invention", T.H. paraphrases with: "the first fruits of my endeavours". What Shakespeare calls his "unpolished lines", T.H. assigns to be "rude and unpolished". As a former director of the Shakespeare Folger Library was wont to remark: "Throughout the text, verbal plagiarism of Shakespeare's poem is everywhere conspicuous." Author Charlton Ogburn summed up T.H.'s intention very neatly when he wrote:

Having pretended that the poem was his first, and in the same words making fun of the pretence, 'T.H.' says he is offering the poem under concealed authorship in imitation of the Greek painter Apelles so that he may see how the dedicatees like it, in anticipation of his offering to their 'humours' a more ambitious work - just as the author of Venus and Adonis promised to 'honour' the dedicatee with 'some graver labour'. [The Mystery of William Shakespeare: Charlton Ogburn, p.85-69].

T.H. had clearly discerned the "concealed authorship" behind Shake-speare's name, and poked fun at it. Far more damaging, however, was another satirical poem that was published in September of that same year, Willobie His Avisa. The unidentified author, presumed to be some unknown called Henry Willoby, relates a story about an innkeeper's wife who was courted by a nobleman before her marriage, and by four foreign suitors after it. The story in prose and verse is thought to parallel the love life of Queen Elizabeth. The fact that Avisa signs herself as: Always the same Avisa,  strongly suggests this connection, for the words are an English translation of the Queen's Latin motto - Semper Eadem. Before her 'marriage to England' - something she had announced in a speech made in 1559 -  she was courted by Thomas Seymour, the younger brother of Lord Protector Somerset, and uncle to the young King, Edward VI. After her accession to the throne, she was courted by four prospective partners from abroad, who had their eye not only on her, but also her kingdom. 

Willobie His Avisa does not stop at parodying the Queen and her lovers, it also gives space to "Shake-speare" and "poor Lucrece rape." The hyphenated name is as deliberate in its intent to inflict scorn, as that which follows. For the poet then starts bantering about the youthful "H.W." (Henry Wriothesley) having been affected with passionate thoughts after his introduction to Avisa (the Queen). And how his much older and now wiser friend, "W.S"., (William Shakespeare) had been similarly affected in the past, but had since recovered, and was therefore able to advise the young man how he might proceed with a seduction. [N.B. William Shakespeare of Stratford upon Avon was still only 29 when this was written.]

It is, of course, ludicrous to even imagine that a trader's son from the provinces would be allowed to offer advice to a nobleman on how best to go about bedding Queen Elizabeth, especially in the class-structured society of post-feudal England. Yet, that is the advice W.S. "the old player" offers to H.W. "the new actor" who, quite astonishingly, is also called "friend Harry" by "W.S.".

Such liberties in matters of address and intimate advice are conceivable only within very personal relationships, as might occur between members of the same class. The Sonnets provide evidence that this close relationship did exist between the man known as 'William Shakespeare' and young Henry Wriothesley. It was also a fact picked up by the unknown author of Willobie His Avisa who satirized it.

The history of the situation is interesting. As a young man, the Earl of Oxford had, for a short time, come under the wing of Queen Elizabeth. And had been seen so much in her company that Lord Burleigh's wife, who was also Oxford's mother-in-law, protested about it to her husband. It was also this relationship that must have provided the genesis for the rumour that Elizabeth and Oxford had once been lovers and that Southampton was their issue (see quote from Neville Williams, above).

My Lord of Oxford is lately grown into great credit, for the Queen's Majesty delighteth more in his personage and his dancing and valiantness than any other. . . . . My Lady Burleigh, unwisely, has declared herself, as it were, jealous, . . . . but now she is reconciled again. At all these love matters my Lord Treasurer [Burleigh] winketh and will not meddle in any way. [Quoted from a letter by Gilbert Talbot to his father, the Earl of Shrewsbury, May 1573].

Twenty years later - the number of years coinciding with the approaching age of Henry Wriothesley - history repeated itself. The 3rd Earl of Southampton was presented to the Queen, and suddenly became elevated into her immediate favour with the prospect of an unprecedented honour being linked with his name.

In 1593 Southampton was mentioned for nomination as a Knight of the Garter, and although he was not chosen the compliment of nomination was, at his age, unprecedented outside the circle of the sovereign kinsmen. [Dictionary of National Biography].

The prospect of this honour being bestowed upon one so young was seized upon at the time by those with an eye to winning favour with the Queen. For, within this same period of time, Southampton's worthiness for receiving this honour is mentioned several times in poetry and addresses still extant. Yet he had performed no service to merit this award, and the only precedent for it having been given before to someone so young was when Henry VIII made his illegitimate son, the Duke of Richmond, a Garter Knight. Therefore, either Henry Wriothesley had so won the heart of Elizabeth that no honour was to be denied him, or there are deeper waters in which historians have yet to fish.

This brief look at the history surrounding the comments to be found in Willobie His Avisa goes some way towards accounting for the reason why the Shakespeare allonym dropped from public view, and why the 'patronage' of Henry Wriothesley for this named author ceased as suddenly as it had begun. Popular poems invite interest in the life of their writer. William Shakespeare was no poet. He was probably also illiterate. At least, no evidence exists to show otherwise, unless one accepts his authorship of the printed books that bear that name. It was surely feared that if this revelation were to become public knowledge it could easily render the nobility figures of fun, and perhaps even threaten the stability of political rule. The Privy Council of that time, dominated by Lord Burleigh and his son, Robert, were intent to see this did not happen. Oxford would have been severely reprimanded as a result, even perhaps by the Queen, and summoned never again to publish another word, either in his own name or under the name of Shakespeare. It is a matter of fact that Venus and Adonis and Lucrece were the first and last works of Shakespeare ever  to be printed with his authority and under his direction. Even when Queen Elizabeth died and every poet in England rushed into print to offer their sentiments, Shakespeare was alone in publishing nothing. 

This fact did not escape Henry Chettle who in 1592 had been conned into believing Shakespeare was a playwright (see Part 1). After the death of Elizabeth he took his revenge by asking aloud why Shakespeare had not written any words of commemoration. Chettle, by this time, knew very well the reason for Shakespeare's silence, and he knew too that Shakespeare could not answer him back without making public the secret of the allonym.

As for Southampton, he fell out of favour in the Queen's eyes at about the same time as 'Shakespeare' became "tongue-tied by authority" (Sonnet 66). Was it anything to do with the part he had played in pretending to be the patron of Oxford's allonym? It is hardly likely that this boyish prank would have done anything but deflate the high opinion Elizabeth had initially formed of him. Thereafter, her only concession towards this earl came a decade later, when the major part he had played in the failed Essex rebellion placed his head upon the executioner's block. Uncharacteristically for the crime of treason, she agreed to a reprieve, and sentenced him to be confined in the Tower of London where he languished until King James ordered his release.

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Footnote: I am indebted to the work of Mark K. Anderson and Roger Stritmatter for their excellently researched article on Gabriel Harvey, in which they make it perfectly clear from Harvey's own publication that he knew de Vere to have been the author of Venus and Adonis. See Shakespeare Matters (Winter 2002).