The Confessions of William-Henry Ireland

PREFACE.

IN the year 1796 I gave to the world a concise pamphlet, in which I avowed myself the fabricator of the manuscripts attributed by me to Shakspeare.

The papers themselves, and the circumstances attending their production, had so highly excited the public curiosity that the whole edition was disposed of in a few hours: and so great has since been the eagerness to procure a copy, that, though originally published at one shilling, a single impression has been sold, in a public auction-room, at the extravagant price of a guinea.

This fact was known to many of my friends, who in consequence have often expressed surprise that I did not republish the pamphlet, and have frequently importuned me to do so: but the revival of the subject, I conceived, might rather tend to injure than benefit me as a literary character: besides, I had already suffered much from the agitation of the question, and had reason to wish it might for ever rest in peace. The consideration, however, that I do but injure my own reputation by silently bearing a more than merited portion of obloquy has at length incited me to give a narrative of the facts in the order in which they occurred, and a simple relation of the motives as they arose and operated on my conduct, that the world may be enabled to judge between my contemners and me, and that my character may be freed from the stigmas with which it has so undeservedly been sullied.

In the course of the ensuing pages will be found various anecdotes of the principal persons who rendered themselves conspicuous during the Shaksperian controversy. These I have frequently detailed in the circle of my friends, who have invariably stated the entertainment they have received, and the full conviction that the public would experience an equal portion of amusement were the whole to be collected and placed before them in a publication similar to the one which I have in the present instance adopted.

Many of the poetic effusions interspersed throughout the subsequent pages were written with the intention of being handed to Mr. S. Ireland as the compositions of Shakspeare; but the avowal of the whole fabrication speedily following, they were never transcribed in the disguised hand: they have therefore remained ever since in their original state, and are now for the first time exposed to general view.

To his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales I have ventured to dedicate an effusion, the genuine feelings of my soul; for I have ever beheld in that august personage a concentration of all the attributes which confer honour on the elevated station he was born to fill.

To George Chalmers, esq., I have addressed a letter, containing an apology for my literary imposition, and craving his pardon and that of the other respectable gentlemen who thought with him, whose forgiveness I am anxious to obtain by the vindication of my own conduct.

In the anxious hope that nothing herein contained may tend to my detriment in the estimation of the public at large, I shall conclude these prefatory lines by referring my readers to the following pages for the proofs requisite to the full establishment of the positions stated at the end of the volume, and with a sanguine hope that my conduct will henceforth be regarded rather as that of an unthinking and impetuous boy than of a sordid and avaricious fabricator instigated by the mean desire of securing pecuniary emolument.

INFANCY, AND MR. HARVESTS ACADEMY.

As the period of my infancy can be productive of no satisfaction to the public, it will be sufficient for me to state that I was born in London, and that the first seminary to which I was sent was Mr. Harvest's, at the back of Kensington Square; to whose parental kindness I am indebted for the first rudiments of my native language, and the mechanical art of writing.

PRIVATE THEATRICALS.

At a very early period of life I certainly acquired a great fondness for theatrical pursuits, originating, I should conceive, in the friendship that subsisted between Mr. Samuel Ireland and the family of Mr. Linley (then one of the proprietors of Drury-lane theatre); by which means we had free egress at all times both behind and before the curtain of old Drury: and a circumstance which tended perhaps as much as any other to root this partiality was a private play which was performed at the then mansion of R. B.Sheridan, esq., in Bruton Street, at which was present a large party of the nobility. The piece selected on the occasion was the opera of The Gentle Shepherd, with Bon Ton; the parts being filled by young persons. My character, though of a trivial nature, did not diminish the zest I felt on that occasion; but, on the contrary, rendered my predilection for theatrical pursuits even more determined.

STUPIDITY WHEN A CHILD.

During my childhood I was ever fond of making pasteboard theatres, but very averse to every thing like study and application. When at Mr. Shury's academy, at Ealing, I was so very backward, that once, on going home for the vacation, I was made the bearer of a letter from Mr. Shury, wherein he acquainted my father, Mr. Samuel Ireland, that I was so stupid as to be a disgrace to his school, and that, as he found it impossible to give me the least instruction, he would much rather I should not return after the holidays, as he (Mr. Shury) conceived it was no better than robbing Mr. Ireland of his money.

SOHO SCHOOL.

I was for about twelve months at Dr. Barrow's academy in Soho Square; but my constitution being very weakly, and the town air but ill according with my then state of health, it was deemed expedient to send me to a country academy.

I have mentioned this seminary, as one curious circumstance occurred. The annual play performed by the scholars of Soho school, at the breaking up for the vacation, happened to be Shakspeare's tragedy of King Lear; and on my production of the spurious manuscripts, some years afterwards, the very drama fixed upon by myself, and which I wrote on old paper and in the disguised hand, with alterations, happened to be the tragedy of King Lear; not that I recurred in the least to the piece so performed at the Soho academy: and this circumstance is noticed merely to show the strange coincidence of events which will frequently occur at different stages of our lives.

RESIDENCE IN FRANCE.

The happiest period of my life was spent in France, where I continued for about four years. My first residence was at Amiens in Picardy; from whence I was removed to the college of Eu in Normandy; after which I visited Paris, &c.—When Mr. Ireland (after so long an absence from my native country) visited the continent in order to conduct me to England, I felt pained on quitting France; and as if a presentiment had hung over me, I would fain have continued there for years.

On my arrival in England I could scarcely speak my native language; and for a length of time my conversation was so loaded with Gallicisms as frequently to render my meaning incomprehensible.

ARTICLES ENTERED INTO WITH MR. WILLIAM BINGLEY, OF NEW INN.

A certain period having elapsed after my return from France, Mr. Samuel Ireland deemed it expedient that I should be articled to a practitioner of the law; and application was in consequence made to Mr. Bingley, of New Inn, who follows the profession as a conveyancer in chancery; when, the terms being entered into, the articles were signed ; and I from that moment attended his chambers, in order to acquire the necessary knowledge to enable me, at a future period, to practise in the same branch of the profession.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS.

As many circumstances conjoined, during some months, to urge my production of the first documents, I shall relate a few of those events; which will tend to prove that the idea of imitating the hand-writing of Shakspeare gradually took possession of my mind, without my having been aware of the fact.

From the period of my arrival from France I had daily opportunities of hearing Mr. Samuel Ireland extol the genius of Shakspeare, as he would very frequently in the evening read one of his plays aloud, dwelling with enthusiasm on such passages as most peculiarly struck his fancy. At such periods, there was no divine attribute which Shakspeare did not possess, in Mr. Ireland's estimation: in short, the Bard of Avon was a god among men. However young I might be at that period, these very frequent praises lavished on our poet led me to the perusal of his matchless works: and, although silent myself upon the subject, I nevertheless paid the greatest attention to every statement made by Mr. Ireland; thus gradually imbibing a similar fondness and veneration for every thing that bore a reference to the mighty father of the English stage.

PREDILECTION FOR OLD BOOKS.

As Mr. Samuel Ireland was very partial to antiquities of every description, and particularly old books, I had hourly opportunities of remarking the satisfaction which the possession of any rarity gave Mr. Ireland. This naturally impressed itself on my mind; and in consequence I became a follower of similar pursuits: which was soon a 'source of the greatest emulation, as nothing gave me so much gratification as exciting Mr. Ireland's astonishment on my production of some rare pamphlet which chance or research had thrown in my way. Even Mr. B*ndl*y of the Stamp office, a well-known collector, who frequently called in Norfolk Street, on learning the rare tracts, &c., which I had collected, would request me to produce some of them; and on such occasions he would commend my pursuit, and express his astonishment at my good fortune. From these circumstances I acquired a real taste for the pursuit, which I followed with indefatigable zeal.

LOVE OF CHIVALRY.

This fondness for ancient books consequently led me to peruse their contents, Chaucer being among the first: after which, various old romances and tales of knights-errant excited my attention, to such a degree that I have often sighed to be the inmate of some gloomy castle; or that having lost my way upon a dreary heath, I might, like Sir Bertram, have been conducted to some enchanted mansion. Sometimes I have wished that by the distant chime of a bell I had found the hospitable porch of some old monastery, where, with the holy brotherhood, having shared at the board their homely fare, I might afterwards have enjoyed upon the pallet a sound repose, and, with the abbots, blessing the ensuing morn, have hied me in pursuit of fresh adventures.

GOEFFREY CHAUCER.

The following is a specimen of one of my early imitations of the versification of that period.

ACROSTIC ON GEOFFREY CHAUCER,

In the style of John Lydgate, a writer of that period, and a disciple and friend of the Father of English poetry.

Lynes by thilke lerned clerke Dan Jan Lydgate, a monke of Burye, wrotenn on his freynde and maisterr Geoffrey Chaucer.

Con I yn rythms thilke clerke's fame make knowen, Hondlynge so poorlee thys my quille As rathere makes me hys fame kille; Unlesse yt bene that gratefull minde alone Con trumpe hys praise; since butt for hym I owne Endlesse indeede had bene the travaile untoe mee Ryghte praisse and thankes to offerr thus yn poesie.

FONDNESS FOR OLD ARMOUR.

As knights were always clad in steel, I did not merely confine myself to that simple knowledge; but, having perused Grose's volume on Ancient Armoury, I became a collector of helmets, breastplates, gorgets, cuisses, &c.; and any part of the suit which was deficient, I, like a second Quixote, made up for with pasteboard. Thus was my bedchamber a regular armoury; and on many occasions, when the moon has shone upon a full suit, I have sat upright in my bed, and pictured scenes from my lord Orford's Castle of Otranto, &c.

PERCY'S BALLADS.

Although not partial to modern printed books, the subject matter of Dr. Percy's Relics of Ancient Poetry was a sufficient inducement for my becoming its possessor: nor has the infinite gratification I experienced on its first perusal diminished even to the present moment. I need scarcely add, that the poems contained in the volumes here alluded to gave additional zest to those pursuits whereto my mind was so entirely riveted.

LOVE AND MADNESS.

I cannot call to mind on what occasion Mr. Samuel Ireland read aloud some of the letters in Mr. Herbert Croft's very entertaining work under the above title; but I perfectly well remember that the conversation turned upon Chatterton; and, from the circumstances then cursorily mentioned, I was prompted to peruse the above work; when the fate of Chatterton so strongly interested me, that I used frequently to envy his fate, and desire nothing so ardently as the termination of my existence in a similar cause. Little did I then imagine that the lapse of a few months was to hold me forth to public view as the supposed discoverer of the Shaksperian manuscripts.

ACROSTIC ON CHATTERTON.

The following acrostic was penned shortly after my perusal of Mr. Herbert Croft's production.

Comfort and joy's for ever fled: He ne'er will warble more! Ah me! the sweetest youth is dead That e'er tun'd reed before. The hand of Mis'ry bow'd him low; E'en Hope forsook his brain: Relentless man contemn'd his woe: To you he sigh'd in vain. Oppress'd with want, in wild despair he cried 'No more I'll live!' swallow'd the draught, and died.

CHATTERTON AND THE BLACK-LETTER BIBLE.

Some time after my discovery of the whole Shaksperian imposition, I quitted London, and remained for some weeks in the vicinity of Bristol. Curiosity naturally prompted me to visit the chamber in the turret of St. Mary Redcliff church wherein were deposited the papers to which Chatterton must have had access, and from which he pretended to have drawn his Rowley's poems. It contained the old chests, which were empty; being in every other respect a cheerless stone room.—After inspecting this chamber, I waited upon Mrs. Newton, Chatterton's sister; who, as usual, produced the letters received from her brother, which she styled the only remaining relics of her dear Thomas. After having given them a very careful perusal (from which many proofs of fraternal affection were apparent), I proceeded to make more minute inquiries respecting Chatterton than were usually made by the few strangers that were prompted from curiosity to visit her. My questions and her answers, as nearly as I can recollect, were to the following effect.

"Do you call to mind any circumstance of a particular nature respecting your brother when a child?"

"He was always very reserved, and fond of seclusion: we often missed him for half a day together; and once I well remember his being most severely chastised for a long absence: at which he did not, however, shed one tear, but merely said It was hard indeed to be whipped for reading.'"

"Did he ever betray any extraordinary symptoms when young?"

"No others, sir, than what I have stated; except, indeed, that he was taught his letters from an old black-letter Bible, and would not take his lesson from any book of modern type."

This circumstance very forcibly struck me, and I endeavoured to acquire more knowledge on this head, but she recollected nothing at all interesting.

At the period when the Rowley papers had first come to light (as he averred), she informed me as follows:—"My brother, sir, had frequently brought home old parchments, deeds and other things, which were accounted of no value: and one day, having a use for them, I during his absence cut up several of them for threadpapers, and others to cover the schoolbooks of children: and while thus occupied, Thomas Chatterton came home. On perceiving what I had done, he threw himself into the most violent passion, saying that I had destroyed what would have been to the family a fortune for ever; and instantly seising the books and threadpapers, collected them all together, and took them up stairs into his own chamber: after which they were never seen or heard of."

From the contiguity of their residence to Redcliff church, she also told me, he continually frequented the interior of that Gothic structure, where he would sit for hours, reading, beside the tomb of Canning; but this circumstance was at that time scarcely noticed. He was also frequently employed in ascending the towers of the church; where he would also read continually.

As to his person, his sister said that he was thin of body, but neatly made; that his features were by no means handsome, and yet, notwithstanding, the tout-ensemble was striking; which arose, she conceived, from the wonderful expression of his eyes, and more particularly of the left eye, which, to use her own words, seemed at times, from its brilliancy, "to flash fire."

She then proceeded to acquaint me that some malevolent aspersions had been thrown out as to his moral character, and particularly his being partial to the society of abandoned women, which she positively denied, with tears in her eyes; stating that he was the best and most tender of brothers, never enjoying so much satisfaction as when he could present them some little token of his affection; that he always kept good hours at night, to her certain knowledge; and that by day he was by far too much taken up with books and his occupations to be a loose character.—As to his having a predilection for some female, she told me she believed that to have been the case; but, to the best of her knowledge, and from her soul (she assured me) she spoke it, no stain whatsoever could attach itself to his moral conduct.

Thus much I gleaned concerning the unfortunate and neglected Chatterton; whose talents I revere, and whose fate I commiserate with unfeigned tears of sympathy; who, had he lived, would have undoubtedly ranked with the first men of genius that have graced our isle.

CHATTERTON AND THE BOOKSELLER.

Having called upon a bookseller in a bye street, among other topics I entered into conversation with the master of the shop respecting Chatterton, when the bookseller informed me that he well remembered the subject of my inquiry; after wdiich he stated as follows respecting him:—That Chatterton, after school hours, had been in the habit of frequenting his shop; and that, not having money sufficient to make purchases, but his family being well known, he was permitted to take from the shelves any volume he chose to select: that he did not confine himself to any particular head, but perused promiscuously works on religion, history, biography, poetry, heraldry—and, in short, the most abstruse treatises on every subject. The master of the shop also informed me that he frequently made transcripts, but was never communicative; merely bowing his head as he entered the shop, and making a similar obeisance on retiring.

MR. SAMUEL IRELAND'S WARWICKSHIRE AVON.

Having explained the various pursuits that occupied my boyish mind, and accounted for the first predilection I imbibed for the productions of Shakspeare, I shall now proceed to state such circumstances as immediately preceded my production of the manuscripts.—When Mr. Samuel Ireland had determined on making drawings illustrative of a work which he had it in contemplation to publish, on the picturesque scenery of the river Avon, I was made the companion of his journey; concerning which I shall state nothing excepting what relates to our bard; which circumstances, as will appear from the ensuing statements, greatly conduced to the subsequent production of the papers, by riveting on my mind a thousand little anecdotes and surmises respecting the sublunary career of our dramatic lord.

JORDAN, THE STRATFORD POET.

On Mr. Samuel Ireland's arrival at Stratford-on-Avon, he entered with the utmost avidity upon every research which might tend to throw any new light upon the history of our dramatic bard: and in these excursions he was joined by a very honest fellow of the name of Jordan, who was bred up a carpenter, but having, or conceiving himself to possess, a spark of the Apollonian fire, he had dedicated himself to the Muses, and was commonly denominated "the Stratford Poet." This civil inoffensive creature had not been idle, on the score of Shakspeare; and had made frequent visits to the neighbouring villages and ancient houses, endeavouring if possible to glean any new anecdote or traditionary tale.

The first person visited by Mr. Ireland, accompanied by Jordan the poet and myself, was an old shopkeeper, who resided nearly opposite to our inn (but whose name I have forgotten); he being in possession of the remains of the mulberry tree, together with tobacco stoppers, busts, wafer seals, &c, all carved from the wood, which (like the pieces of the real cross in catholic countries) have so multiplied that I much fear a dozen full-grown mulberry trees would scarcely suffice to produce the innumerable mementoes already extant. Mr. Ireland having purchased some of these bagatelles, and a goblet which had certainly been carved many years back, and in all probability from the original tree, for which he gave an adequate price, we left this manufacturer of Shaksperian relics, and repaired to the church.

I think it necessary to state, that, although the events which took place at Stratford-on-Avon are arranged as if they had occupied no more than a single day, they notwithstanding kept Mr. Ireland a resident at that place for a week: during which period, I am fully convinced, not one hour was spent but in the favourite pursuit; while the conversations at our dinners and suppers were still of Shakspeare, the immortal and divine Shakspeare.

STRATFORD CHURCH.

On entering the church, which contains the ashes of our immortal bard, it would be impossible for me to describe the thrill which then took possession of my soul.—Mr. Ireland, as usual, began his delineations of the monuments of Shakspeare, sir Thomas Lucy and John Coombe, which are in the chancel of Stratford church, and were afterwards engraved for Mr. Ireland's River Avon. While occupied on these drawings, he greatly reprehended the folly of having coloured the face and dress of the bust of Shakspeare; which was intended to beautify it, whereas it would have been much more preferable to have left the stone of its proper colour.—Mr. Ireland also made application in order to be permitted to take a plaster cast from the bust; which request had been granted, on a previous occasion, to Mr. Malone; but as it was necessary to petition the corporation, and much time and perseverance being requisite, the idea was wholly relinquished.

THE CHARNEL-HOUSE.

As Mr. Ireland was very particular in his delineations of the three monuments, which occupied him for a considerable time, I strolled about the church; and on returning to the spot where Mr. Ireland was engaged, being just opposite the door of the charnel-house, I pushed it open, when the largest collection of human bones I had ever beheld instantly struck my regard. On mentioning this circumstance to Mr. Ireland, he approached the spot, to be an eye-witness of the fact; when he immediately remarked, that, if any such collection of bones was there at the time of Shakspeare, it was by no means improbable that they inspired him with a horror at the idea of so many remnants of the dead being huddled together in a vast heap, and that he in consequence caused the following lines to be carved on the stone which covers his grave (being to the right of the charnel-house door, and directly under his bust), in order to deter any sacrilegious hand from removing his ashes. The lines, which are thus spelt and cut, run as follow:—

LINES ON THE FLAT STONE COVERING SHAKSPEARE'S GRAVE.

Good Frend for Ieſus SAKE forbeare To diGG T-E Duſt EncloAſed HERe Bleſe be T-E Man YT ſpares T-Es Stones And curſt be He YT moves my Bones.

QUOTATION FROM HAMLET.

That our bard had a great antipathy to the removal of the relics of the dead is not improbable; since, in the gravediggers' scene in Hamlet, the following remarks are so appropriate to the subject, and highly expressive of his detestation of such conduct.

Ham. That scull had a tongue in it, and could sing once!—How the knave jowls it to the ground, as if it were Cain's jaw-bone, that did the first murder!—This might be the pate of a politician, which this ass now o'erreaches; one that could circumvent God: might it not?

Hor. It might, my lord.

Ham. Or of a courtier; which could say, Good morrow, sweet lord! How dost thou, good lord? This might be my lord such-a-one's horse, when he meant to beg it: might it not?

Hor. Ay, my lord.

Ham. Why, e'en so: and now my lady worm's! chapless, and knock'd about the muzzard with a sexton's spade!—Here's fine revolution, an we had the trick to see't!—Did these bones cost no more the breeding, but to play at loggats with them? Mine ache to think on't.

Act V., Scene i.

NEW PLACE.

Mr. Ireland visited the site of the ground whereon stood Shakspeare's mansion,which was called New Place, and was burned down at the great fire which took place at Stratford-on-Avon, and is now walled round. It was in the garden belonging to these premises that the mulberry tree stood; which was felled, many years since, by its then churlish owner, who conceived himself too much importuned by the curiosity of strangers desirous of visiting the tree planted by the hand of Shakspeare.

That our poet must have retired from London with a very handsome competence there can be little doubt, as this very New Place, wherein he had resided, was during the civil wars selected by Charles the First and his queen to be their residence during the continuance of the court at the town of Stratford-on-Avon.

SHAKSPEARE'S BIRTH-PLACE.

On visiting the lowly mansion which had given birth to our immortal dramatist, Hart the butcher, the descendant of our bard by the female line, was still living. After much conversation with the old man, Mr. S. Ireland proceeded to make a correct drawing of the kitchen, wherein it is more than probable our great poet must have frequently been seated. A delineation was then taken of a little parlour adjoining; over the chimney-piece of which was a representation in plaster of David and Goliath, encircled with two rude poetical lines, which were then in the modern hand, but had been lately altered from the black-letter characters in which they had originally appeared. It was in the tiling of this very house that the discovery was made of a profession of faith stated to be from the pen of John Shakspeare, the father of our bard, to which I shall allude on a future occasion.

APPLICATION FOR THE PURCHASE OF THE BIRTHPLACE OF SHAKSPEARE.

At a period when the Shaksperian manuscripts were in their zenith, I was given to understand, that, by the death of old Hart, the descendant of Shakspeare, the tenement at Stratford-on-Avon which had witnessed the birth of our immortal bard was to be sold: in consequence of which I made application, by letter, to the attorney at Stratford-on-Avon who was appointed to dispose of the dwelling: and for a period it was really my intention, could I have made it convenient, to become the purchaser of the mansion in question, as nothing at that period would have afforded me so much gratification as the being in possession of the avowed birth-place of Shakspeare. A correspondence between myself and the attorney, relative to the purchase, in consequence took place; after which the affair gradually died away.

CLOPTON HOUSE.

In consequence of the various inquiries set on foot by Mr. Ireland during his continuance at Stratford-on-Avon, he was at length given to understand, by some of the oldest inhabitants, that a tale was formerly told indicatory of some manuscripts having been conveyed for safety, at the time of the fire at Stratford, from New Place (the former residence of Shakspeare) to Clopton House, situated at a little distance from the scene of the conflagration. In consequence of this intelligence Mr. Ireland proceeded to the mansion in question; which proved to be of great antiquity. In one chamber was a very curious carved bedstead of oak, with silk hangings. This, together with all the furniture of the apartment, was an heir-loom to the premises; having been the gift of king Henry the Seventh to sir Hugh Clopton, who was one of the lord-mayors of London during the reign of that monarch. In this antique mansion were innumerable chambers furnished in a similar manner, many of them totally darkened to obviate the expense of the tax upon window-lights; and in the cockloft were piles of mouldering household goods, all of the same remote antiquity: among the rest was an emblazoned representation, on vellum, of queen Elizabeth, the wife of Henry the Seventh, as she lay in state in the chapel of the tower of London, after having died in childbed; which curious relic the then owner of Clopton House gave to Mr. S. Ireland, as a "picture which was in his opinion of no service, because, being on vellum, it would not do to light the fire."

CHAPEL IN A GARRET.

Near the cockloft just mentioned was a garret, the walls of which were adorned with rude paintings of scriptural subjects, hieroglyphical characters, and quotations from the New Testament. Among the designs, I recollect a large fish was delineated as being caught, and a hand drawing the string which was attached to the hook in the fish's mouth. Under this curious design were the following lines of rude poetry in black-letter characters: they may be found in Weever's Funeral Monuments.—

Whether you rise yearlye, Or goe to bed late, Remember Christ Jesus, That died ffor your sake.

From the inquiries made by Mr. Ireland, we were given to understand that sir Hugh Clopton, or his descendant, being a very staunch catholic, had gained permission to have this garret consecrated at the time of the reformation, that the celebration of mass might take place in secret.

Having thus far digressed in my statement respecting the antiquity and great curiosity of this mansion, I shall again revert back to the general subject, and say,