“MR W. H.”

Evening Star, Issue 19783, 6 February 1928, Page 6

“MR W. H.”

A new solution of the “ age-long mystery ” of “Air W. H.,” to whom Shakespeare’s Sonnets were dedicated, may be an exciting prospect or tho most futile discovery. It depends on whether Shakespeare, in writing his Sonnets, was really constructing a cross-word puzzle, and whether there has over been any mystery worth unravelling. If Sir Sidney Leo had a right understanding of the matter—and no ono has given more study to it than he—it is not worth considering who “Mr W. H.” may have been. Tho Sonnets were not dedicated to him by Shakespeare, who, after he had won his audience, never showed the slightest interest in the publication of any of his works. As the inscription definitely states, they were dedicated by the publisher, William Thorpe, who, in the manner of his time, was merely a “snapper up of unconsidcred trifles” in the way of manuscripts which it was the custom to publish without any consultation of their authors. “W. H.” was a friend of his, and not of Shakespeare. Ho was probably a fellowprinter. '

There is another theory which holds otherwise. About twenty of the poems are plainly addressed by the poet himself to a young man whose graces ho lauds, and whom ho addresses as his patron. He does not call him “W. H.,” but if ho suggested tho dedication to tho printer—an impossible thing to bo done by him if tho printer was really a privateer—Mr Thorpe may have written “W.H.,” meaning Henry Wriothesley, Earl of Southampton. Shakespeare probably wrote some sonnets to this nobleman, who had befriended him, but there is nothing really to identify him with the “ W. H.” of the dedication. Nor are the letters more likely to stand for “ William Herbert,” otherwise Lord Pembroke. He was invariably known by his peer’s title, and it is not shown that he was ever intimate with Shakespeare. The latest puzzle-worker is convinced that “W. H.” was William Holgate, an innkeeper’s son, for whom the poet may easily have had a liking. But the evidence, as it has been cabled, does not go far. William Holgate, it has been found, kept a commonplace book, in which, among other things, he copied references to Shakespeare. In an ago whoso chief reading was poetry a few hundred boys, having the initials “ W. H.,” may have done tho same. The entire speculation would appear to be little more than a trivial one.

The description that is given of the young patron in certain of the sonnets fits in fairly well with what wo know of the Earl of Southampton, fngonious and, we might say, unimaginative critics have been equally concerned with attempts to identify the “dark lady” who is mentioned in others of them. It would bo as practicable to identify the dark ladies that are prognosticated from teacups and from packs of cards. Shakespeare was not writing puzzles, nr concealing deftly, for the elucidation ol after times, the facts of his life when ho wrote his sonnets, as the facts oi history are supposed by some enthusiasts to be concealed in the angles and measurements of the Great Pyramid. Ho was writing poetry. “With this key,” Wordsworth indeed has said, referring to the sonnet, “Shakespeare unlocked his heart.” It is doubtful if he meant all that would be imputed to the phrase by ingenious higher critics, but if he did we have the scepticism of Browning: With this same key Shakespeare unlocked bis heart! Once more, Did Shakespeare? H so, the less Shakespeare lie. The sonnets are not a sequence. They include two different sequences at least, and they deal with all the subjects on which sonnet writers of the day—and they were legion—were accustomed to display their powers. It was expected that they should write of cruel ladies, rivals in love, unsurpassable patrons, etc., and there is no need to suppose that these types, in Shakespeare’s verse, were drawn more from any actual experiences than they were in the case of fellow-poets who were satisfied to accept them as conventions. We do not know nil the innkeepers’ sons, link boys, apprentices, orange women, dark ladies and fair, at court and in taverns, with whom Shakespeare conversed as he Jived his life, and who may have valued little attentions from him after lie had reached the height of his fame. But they must have been a great number.