Hildegard Hammerschmidt-Hummel
THE TRUE FACE OF WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
The poet's death mask and likenesses from three periods of his life
Translated by Alan Bance
208pp. Chaucer Press. £25 (US $40).
978 1 904449 56 0
Professor Hildegard Hammerschmidt-Hummel has a formidable list of publications in Shakespeare studies. If her publicity is to be believed, “on the basis of new research methods and expert assessments”, she has solved the mystery of the “Dark Lady” of the Sonnets (Elizabeth Vernon), unravelled the secret of Shakespeare’s religion (Catholic), and has made “seminal” studies of pictorial sources which illuminate his life and works. Now, in translation, comes a well-illustrated and handsomely produced book expounding, from “new sources”, her revelation of “the true face of William Shakespeare” which, we are told, “will fundamentally change our perception of Shakespeare as both a human being and as a writer”.
These revelations include her establishing what she claims to be the “authenticity” not only of the Chandos portrait (which she attributes not to John Taylor but to Richard Burbage) and the Flower portrait (in its 1979 restoration state), but also of the “Davenant terracotta bust” (at the Garrick Club) and of the “Darmstadt Shakespeare death mask”. Altogether these mean, she says, that “we can now be certain of the appearance of the playwright and poet William Shakespeare . . . at various stages of his life”. For good measure we can also discover, from the swelling on his left upper eyelid, the disease from which he died: Mikulicz Syndrome, a disorder of the tear glands symptomatic of chronic sarcoidosis.
So what are the proofs for these revelations? They arise from the application of procedures and technologies used principally by the German Federal Bureau of Criminal Investigation (BKA), notably detailed comparison of photographic images, including electronic blending, montage, superimposition, and three-dimensional computer reconstructions, as well as X-rays and laser scanning techniques. All results are subject to “expert assessment” on the basis of an analytical system of detailed features and measurements. Most of these procedures, it might be noted, are not “new and innovative” at all but are “very old” and have been “thoroughly tested” over a period of “decades”.
Are these forensic “proofs” convincing? Sadly, they are not. Nor is Hammerschmidt-Hummel’s “scientific” method entirely consistent or without non sequiturs. In her survey of the history of the various artefacts, she denigrates sceptical modern scholars who never examined the originals at first hand but relied on photographs. Yet her principal method of determining likeness is, precisely, the juxtaposition of photographs. The results of the technical procedures applied to them are undoubtedly interesting, but one wonders whether they are any more conclusive when applied to facial images than when applied to handwriting samples. Resemblances might be spotted in both instances, but unless a very wide range of examples can be tested – to distinguish peculiar idiosyncrasies from similarities that are purely generic and more widespread – then percentages of likelihood cannot really be gauged. (John Smith may have blonde hair and blue eyes, but all men with blonde hair and blue eyes can’t be identified as John Smith.) The limitation of the selection itself, as well as the scope for digital manipulation, may perhaps enable researchers to find whatever they want to find.
Then we have Hammerschmidt-Hummel’s assertion that “The basis for the following investigation is the funerary bust of William Shakespeare and his portrait engraving in the First Folio”. However, not only is the status of the much-restored Stratford monument itself highly controversial (see the correspondence in last year's TLS and Brian Vickers's subsequent commentary), but, from her own evidence, it is the funerary bust that seems to be the odd man out. Not only does the stolid fleshy face of the Stratford bust look different, but the BKA comparisons themselves reveal only “five similarities” between it and the “Darmstadt death mask” as well as “two divergences”. This result compares, for instance, with the “seventeen morphological features” which the Chandos and Flower portraits and the Droeshout engraving have in common. Hammerschmidt-Hummel explains the discrepancies by the “damage” done to the bust over the centuries. In that case, one might think, the bust could hardly constitute a satisfactory “basis” for her investigation.
In fact, her characteristic approach throughout the book is to select elements, or highlight “evidence”, which support likenesses while dismissing or ignoring those that don’t. She does this, for instance, with the 1656 Dugdale engraving (with all its differences from the bust as it is now), and she is equally selective in her review of other scholars’ findings and interpretations. Thus, some (such as Sidney Lee) are approved when they agree with her, while others (such as Marion Spielmann or S. Schoenbaum) are dismissed as “not convincing” or “uncritical” when they don’t.
Nevertheless, despite discrepancies and differing views of the evidence, all the various comparisons are lumped together, allegedly to prove beyond doubt that all these artifacts “represent one and the same person: William Shakespeare”. But even if this is so, what does it amount to? If all or most are based on the Droeshout engraving, as most scholars believe – or are attributed to Shakespeare simply because they look like the figure in that portrait – what authority do they have?
Hammerschmidt-Hummel’s dismissal of these possibilities is based on pure speculation: that, for instance, Shakespeare sat in person for both the Chandos and Flower portraits, if not others, and that he had a life mask made which may have been used for the “Davenant bust”. Speculation also fuels her interpretation of other evidence. Shakespeare’s alleged “Catholicism” is supported not only by reference to his supposed journey to Rome in 1613 as “Ricardus Stratfordus” (which she has argued elsewhere), but also from the Madonna which (as X-rays show) is painted behind the Flower portrait. This piece of recycling is actually no more evidence of Shakespeare’s or anyone else’s adherence to the old faith than are the countless pages of old missals that people used as book covers or binder’s waste after the 1550 prohibition of Catholic prayer books.
Hammerschmidt-Hummel also refuses to accept as a serious weakness in her arguments the frequent lack of clear provenance or even to consider any light that might be thrown on matters by other kinds of forensic evidence, such as pigment analysis or carbon dating. For all her diligent attempts to supply missing links in the chain, the provenance of most of these artefacts before the nineteenth century is obscure; their dating is largely speculative; and the circumstances in which they were produced are virtually un-knowable. Like Thomas Aquinas’s proof of the existence of God, her arguments are sound provided you believe what is to be proved from the outset.
Ultimately, in matters of authenticity, there are only tentative grades of possibility. Perhaps a Popperian approach is the most rational: that nothing can be proved, but some things can be disproved. Neither is a reader’s confidence in this book of revelations reinforced by the strident tone of personal self-assurance and certainty adopted by Hildegard Hammerschmidt-Hummel throughout – which is reminiscent of the hubris of the late A. L. Rowse. Readers might also be advised to check for accuracy some of the details supplied here (the Dugdale drawing was done in 1634 not 1636; Gheerart Janssen died in 1611 not 1616). For all we know, most if not all of the artefacts she discusses may be genuine contemporary, or near-contemporary, representations of Shakespeare and he may have suffered from sarcoidosis – or not. By all means, let readers engage with this book and make up their own minds. Absolute truth, however, remains as elusive as ever.
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Peter Beal is the author of Index of Literary Manuscripts 1450-1700, 1980-93, and In Praise of Scribes: Manuscripts and their makers in seventeenth-century England, 1998.
