Edward de Vere by Marcus Gheeraerts the Younger |
While reading through the letters of Edward de Vere, the
17th Earl of Oxford, doing research for my second Shakespeare
Authorship book (a book of targetted essays this time around), it suddenly
dawned on me that I had long failed to see a striking pattern in the Earl’s
biography. I’ve set my research for the
book aside, momentarily, then, to pull together the scattered pieces of that
pattern for this essay.
On July 28, 1562, the 16th
Earl of Oxford, John de Vere, signed his final will and testament. He died five days later. Because he was the father to Edward de Vere,
a candidate for having written the works of Shake-speare, and the 17th
Earl, John de Vere’s death has occasionally come under more scrutiny than might
attend upon the average 16th century earl.
In fact, John de Vere had spent
the summer, to that point, getting the various legal affairs of his Earldom in
order. Among the conjecture historians
and scholars have indulged as to his reasons, has been the possibility that he
knew that he was near death. On the
other hand, none of the legal documents that survive gives explicit indication
that he was preparing for such an event. One document, in particular, made clear that
de Vere at least hoped to live six years longer (the duration of the
agreement). The will and testament, it
has been pointed out, replaced a ten year old will written under considerably
different circumstances. Perhaps, it was simply high
time that it be updated.
The Veres had long held the
Earldom of Oxford. For this reason, we
can be quite sure of the dates of birth and demise and the conditions under
which each occurred. None of the earls,
from the first to the 17th, would die in any of the many battles in
which they participated. Perhaps more
remarkably, only one would be executed for crimes against the king or realm. All but that one seem to have died at home.
Still, with all the health
advantages of being among the wealthiest and highest ranking persons in the
country, the average lifespan of the 16 Earls of Oxford who died of natural causes was 50.75 years. It was not at all out of the ordinary, then,
that John de Vere, having the Vere DNA, should die at 46 years of age.
But did his sudden flourish to get his affairs in order mean
that he at least suspected that his death might not be far off? If so, what signs might have convinced him
that it was best to err on the side of caution?
As seems to have been the case
with all Earls of Oxford before him, Edward de Vere, the 17th Earl
of Oxford, was physically vigorous. As was the case of the others, he had dark
brown hair, brown (one portrait suggests hazel) eyes, sharp facial features,
and a slightly ruddy complexion.
Physically, he was a Vere male from head to foot.
Moreover, Edward was of robust health throughout at least his first 40 years. The sole exception would seem to be a serious knife wound he received, somewhere in the leg and/or groin area, from a duel fought in 1583. His immune system withstood the test of receiving a deep wound in an age without sterile procedures. No further complications are explicitly mentioned regarding the matter.
In 1590, Edward’s letters begin to
beg his correspondents’ pardons for his not having been able to pay them
customary visits. The reason given is
poor health. Soon lameness is mentioned
in a leg. I myself have suggested that
circumstantial evidence would seem to indicate that he had suffered more
serious damage than anyone had known, to that point, from the wound received in
1583. I still feel that muscle damage
from the wound is the likely cause of the lameness but I have since had to
admit another possibility.
In 1590, Edward was 40 years
old. Nearly a quarter of the Earls of
Oxford had died, without violence being involved, by that age. If his repeated assertions of poor health
were neither excuses nor euphemisms for a revived problem relating to the earlier stab wound, it
stands to reason that the De Vere DNA might be next in order of possibility.
Because De Vere’s lameness (and
the corresponding lameness mentioned in the sonnets of Shake-speare) is a
widely known and cited fact, I had come in the habit of glossing over the
lameness mentioned in the letters while researching other matters less settled. I imagine that I am not the only person to
have done so. I was recently rereading
the letters concerning another of their aspects when suddenly I realized I’d
been very wrong to do so.
In
1596 Edward and his second wife, the Countess Elizabeth, moved to King’s Place, Hackney. Elizabeth was a Trentham and her family
estate in Hackney would be his home for the remainder of his life. It was close enough to the Royal Court (be it
in residence at Windsor or Greenwich) and to London to allow him to travel to
those places so central to his life. He
made such travels less and less frequently, however, as the years passed.
In
October of 1601 De Vere begins to complain of his health again in letters to
his brother-in-law, Robert Cecil, who was representing him in certain legal
matters at Court. He begins a letter “My very good Brother, yf my helthe hadd beene
to my mynde I wowlde have beene before this att the Coorte,…”[1]. No details are given, but it was not meant as
a convenient excuse, as subsequent letters show, and must have been a difficult
thing for once so physically vital a man as him to admit. It is quite possible, from the available
evidence, to suspect that Edward had been much reduced in health as early as his
first protestations in 1590, when he was 40 years of age. It is tempting to attribute his move to
Hackney as an attempt to get some distance from the social obligations of
London in an attempt to recover — an attempt to live a less stressful lifestyle.
In 1601, De Vere was 51 years of age: as old as De Vere earls tended to live. It is reasonable to ask whether Edward’s letters are our best evidence as to what genetic trait might have caused most of their lives to end early and under circumstances giving no suggestion of violence. There will be considerable reason to think so.
The death of Edward de Vere, some three
years later, in 1604, has been conjectured to be due to any number of
causes. Some even think that he did not
die in that year but was secreted away.
I will say no more about the fringe theories.
A note was entered in the registry
of St. Augustine Church, in Hackney, near the record of Edward’s passing, reads
“plague” but the note is not immediately next to his name. It is not clear that the entry refers to
him. Furthermore, there is no record of
the plague being at large in the area at the time. Death by the dreaded plague would, however, possibly explain
why the earl was buried without ceremony.
Between the October 1601 letter
and his death, however, come several others two of which concern us here.
On November 22, De Vere opens a letter (again to Cecil), “My good
Brother, in that I haue not sent an answer to yowre laste letter, as yow myght
expect, I shall desyre yow too hould me for exscused, sythe ever sythence the
receyt therof by reason of my syknes I have not been able to wryght.” Far more importantly, for present purposes,
he ends the letter with a stunning statement of his most bothersome symptom: “…desyring
yow to beare with the weaknes of my lame hand, I take my leaue from Hakney this
22th of November 1601.”[2] The earl has lost the strength in his writing
hand.
Again he refers to the effect as a
lameness. This can only raise the
question as to whether his 1590 “lameness” was actually, or only, due to his
groin injury. His protestations of
ill-health were not unlike those we read now and in the next letter we will
quote. Could the assumption that the
illness he referred to in his 1590 letters was a euphemism for a persistent groin
area pain be all or partly incorrect? Could the illness have been something else altogether?
Could John de Vere, the 16th
Earl, have been putting his house in order because he too was experiencing
periods of debilitating illness followed by weakness in one or more of his
limbs? Did he put his house in order
just in case the worst should come to pass, while bravely planning nonetheless
to live?
In January 1602, two and a half
years before he will die, Edward writes “… thus wythe a lame hand, to wright I
take my leue,…”[3]. This letter was written some three months
after he first mentions being unable to travel due to illness. It is written some two months after the first
extant mention of his “lame” hand. The
clear implication is that he has been suffering an extended illness which
expresses itself, in part, by a weakness in his writing hand.
Of course, the most common cause
of such a symptom is a stroke. In this
instance, it would appear, a mild to moderate one. Perhaps even a series of mild to moderate
strokes going back as far as 1590 but certainly until October of 1601. Like his father, then, having suffered
strokes (which, of course, neither they nor their physicians would begin to
understand or put a proper name to), and having largely recovered over time, he
would have held out hope to recover yet again.
He would merely understand himself to be given to serious periods of
illness, after which there were lingering symptoms which his persistence
eventually more or less overcame.
There might seem to be a strong
argument against stroke, however. If
Edward was suffering left-brain strokes, it seems unlikely that he would have
kept the language skills necessary to write his letters much less the portions
of the plays Macbeth and The Tempest that I assert, here and in
my book Edward de Vere was Shake-speare: at long last the proof, were
written between the ascension of James I and De Vere’s death. He would, then, have to have been left-handed, thus have been suffering right-brain strokes, in order to have the problem he reports writing but not to have lost much or
all of his ability to speak and form language for the pen.
After these letters, a period of
time having passed, Edward did travel to London and observed the entry of England’s
new monarch James I. He failed to
navigate the crowds, and, as a result, was forced to watch from his coach at a
distance. His request, as Lord Great Chamberlain, to participate in the
coronation of the successor to Queen Elizabeth, was soon after granted in
full. It seems quite likely that he
fulfilled his considerable responsibilities on that day in person. These are the only occasions, following the death
of Elizabeth I, it is likely that he travel any distance from Hackney. There are no extant accounts of any other details,
on those occasions, relating to him or his health.
Edward de Vere continued to write
occasional letters to Cecil and the King, during the brief time left to him,
and without further mention of his lame hand.
There is some question outstanding whether all were certain to have been
in his own hand. He died, at his wife’s
estate in Hackney, on June 24th, 1604.
As has been mentioned above, there
is no sure means of assigning a cause of death. His quiet interment, absent, it would seem,
of all the ceremony generally due an earl, might suggest that he was rumored to
have died of the plague. What an inquest
of the time might have made of death by a debilitating disease beyond the
capability of a physician to diagnose, it is impossible to say with
specificity. A mysterious death might
have been dealt with by assuming the worst.
Another reason for a quick private
burial could have been a finding that the Earl of Oxford had despaired of hope
in his extremity and ended his own life.
For a high nobleman, this would likely have been hushed up and the body
quietly buried in the Christian ground strictly forbidden to such a crime. Perhaps the most likely reason for the
unusual quasi-secrecy of the funeral had nothing to do with a suspected cause
of death. Perhaps it was due to the fact
that he had all but bankrupted the earldom and chose to give directions for a
private affair in order to avoid one more ignominious display of his reduced estate.
No machinery of plague or suicide
is necessary in order to understand De Vere’s somewhat early death. Actually, the timing is precisely what his male-line
family history would promise. The extant
evidence, strongly suggests that he may well have died of an
inevitable final, major stroke.
In the 16th and early
17th centuries, an earl lived a good life daily filled with red meat
and rich sauces washed down with equally prodigious amounts of alcohol,
followed by lavish desserts. Edward was
renowned for drinking alcohol in prodigious amounts at least until shortly
before he retired to Hackney. A courtier
constantly attending at Court, such as Edward was for his first 20 teenage and
adult years, would have enjoyed even greater quantities of all of this on a daily
basis.
For someone with a genetic
disposition to high blood pressure, the lifestyle would all but guarantee a highly
vigorous youth of great energy and strength and a death in one’s 40s or 50s,
perhaps even earlier. Of course, similar
results might be expected from genetic tendencies toward blot clots, vascular
weaknesses in the brain, diabetes and a number of other less likely causes. On the whole, the record most strongly
suggests high blood pressure.
[2] Ibid., http://socrates.berkeley.edu/~ahnelson/PERSONAL/011122.html
[3] Ibid., http://socrates.berkeley.edu/~ahnelson/PERSONAL/020100.html
5 comments:
Just a couple of points - if De Vere complained about his “lame hand”, perhaps that letter (and many others) were dictated. That would upend a certain strand of evidence - that is, his letters have habits of spelling and form that have been commented on. Perhaps he did not pen them! Maybe they were dicatated. In that case, the spelling wouldn’t be de Vere’s, and is therefore inconsequential.
OR, perhaps he was “exaggerating” in his comment on his “lame hand”.
The last letter (to King James) is quite impressive, and not long ago it hit me how improbable it is that Oxford actually penned it - if one mistake were made, it would have had to be discarded. It seems highly possible that it is the work or partial contribution of a professional scribe. After all, it was to the King, and the knot flourish is PERFECT - quite a feat after penning a complete letter.
But based on earlier examples of Oxford’s hand, it might be provable that he penned the later letters as well.
On the stroke hypothesis - it fits the facts, but I have a growing suspicion that he was poisoned. I don’t have the knowledge of poison techniques to back this up, but it would fit the pattern of “actions” taken by Robert Cecil to settle scores and shore up his administration of James’ fledgling regime.
But why, Mr. Dickson, would Vere apologize for his handwriting if someone else had written the letter in question? I would love to be able to check each letter personally for consistency of handwriting and spelling but that is not presently possible. Still both seem properly vouched for. There can be little doubt that the "Lame hand" letters were in his own hand, however corrupted/altered by lameness.
The signature on the last letter (to James) is impressively large and strong. It's worth pointing out that the last signature which exists (on the legal document putting property in trust for his son Henry) is VERY shaky, but he managed to sign.
Perhaps he was experiencing TIAs ("mini stokes) for some time before a having a final major stroke.
It's clear that, as far as he was concerned, SOMETHING was affecting his writing hand.
Couldn't arthritis explain a lot? Limping after an injury could encourage it, and it also attacks hands.
I think twelfth earl was beheaded.
The links to Professor Nelson's site are dead since Berkley shut down his Socrates page when he retired. However, there is a mirror site to access the same records, at https://leadbetter.cc/nelson/, should you want to update your footnotes or access the records in your ongoing research into de Vere.
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