Shakespeare

One reason for the postponement of the execution of the will, however, may have been the imminent marriage of his remaining daughter. Judith Shakespeare was betrothed to one of Shakespeare’s family friends, Thomas Quiney, but in the following month they were excommunicated for having married in Lent without the possession of a special licence. They may have married in haste. It seems that the local vicar had been at fault, but the punishment was reserved for the participants. This was succeeded by worse news, when Quiney was brought before the bawdry court for unlawful copulation with a local girl. The girl herself, Margaret Wheeler, had died in childbirth together with her infant. Mother and child had been buried on 15 March, just a month after the marriage between Quiney and Judith Shakespeare. It must have been common knowledge and local gossip, at the time of the marriage, that a girl made pregnant by Quiney was still living in town and proclaiming the paternity of her child. It was a local disgrace, something of a humiliation touching the family of the Shakespeares, and as a result Shakespeare changed his will by striking out the name of Thomas Quiney.

The will itself was drawn up on 25 March 1616. It has sometimes been suggested that the will has been executed in Shakespeare’s own hand; but this is very unlikely. It was no doubt composed or transcribed by his lawyer, Francis Collins, or by the lawyer’s clerk. A preliminary will had been made in January, but this was now altered. A new first page was substituted, and there were many changes made on the second and third pages. It opens in the conventional manner with the pious declaration that “In the name of god Amen I William Shackspeare … in perfect health amp; memorie god be praysed doe make amp; Ordayne this my last will and testamente.” It is not clear that Shakespeare was in perfect health or memory; the evidence of his final signatures suggests a weak and debilitated man.

He deals first with the case of his daughter Judith, who had recently entered such an unsatisfactory marriage with Thomas Quiney. The reference to “my sonne in L[aw]” has been crossed out, and the phrase “daughter Judyth” substituted. He left her £150 on condition that she renounced any claim to the cottage he owned in Chapel Lane close to New Place. This suggests that she and her new husband had been living there. He also bequeathed her a further £150, three years later, if she or any of her heirs were still living. Thomas Quiney could only claim this sum if he gave Judith lands valued at the same amount. It was not a large bequest, at least compared to the largesse bestowed upon her sister, and in equity she could have expected three or four times that amount. It is apparent, therefore, that Shakespeare was in some respects stern or unyielding with his younger daughter.

Shakespeare then left £30, and his clothes, to his sister. Joan Hart was also allowed to stay in Henley Street for a nominal rent, and £5 were left to each of her three sons. Unfortunately Shakespeare forgot the name of one of his nephews. He scarcely refers to his wife, but Anne Shakespeare would have been automatically entitled to one-third of his estate; there was no reason to mention her in an official document. But he does make one provision. As an afterthought in the second draft he added “Item I gyve unto my wief my second best bed with the furniture.” This has aroused much speculation, principally concerned with the burning question why he did not leave her the “best” bed. In fact the “best” bed in the household was that characteristically used by guests. The “second best bed” was that reserved for the marital couple and, as such, is best seen as a testimony to their union. As one cultural historian has put it the marital bed represented “marriage, fidelity, identity itself” and was “a uniquely important possession within the household.”⁶ The bed may indeed have been an heirloom from the Hathaway farmhouse in Shottery. It may have been the one on which Shakespeare was lying. The fact that he added this bequest as an afterthought suggests the benevolence of his intention. He is unlikely to have wished to snub his wife at the last minute. It is of some interest, however, that he did not feel the slightest need to call his wife by the conventional testamentary phrases of “loving” or “well beloved”; he did not need, or like, conventional sentiments. Nor did he name his wife as his executrix, and instead left everything in the hands of his apparently more capable daughter. Anne Shakespeare may therefore have been incapacitated in some way.