Out, out, brief candle!
Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5
The first line of Hamlet’s famous soliloquy, ‘To be, or not to be,’ is perhaps the most quoted of any in Shakespeare’s entire works. Hamlet, more than any other play, explores the theme of suicide in detail, from the Prince of Denmark’s soul-searching soliloquies to Ophelia’s drowning, and the different responses to her death.
Hamlet’s contemplation of life, and his deliberations over whether death could bring the blessed relief and escape he craves, is a heart-wrenching exploration of the darkest moments in a person’s life. He shows all the typical signs that might lead up to the act itself: depression and anxiety, suicidal thoughts and even planning stages. His mother’s deep concern for her son’s welfare prompts her to enlist friends to talk to him and support him. It is what anyone would do for a friend or family member. The intervention is successful and Hamlet does not commit suicide.
The circumstances that drive Shakespeare’s characters to commit the ultimate act are extreme and few people today would expect to find themselves in a similar situation. But the emotions – grief, fear, desperation – are real enough. The playwright’s incredible insights into the bleakest human experiences are unnervingly accurate. His fictional characters have provided decades of psychologists with case studies. The portrayal of suicidal characters in the plays and poems is not only deep in understanding but also surprisingly modern in attitude.
Shakespeare went a considerable way to show a more compassionate view towards those that contemplate and bring about their own death than might be expected for the time in which he was writing. The historical stigma of suicide was considerable. Natural death was one thing, something to be expected and accepted as part of life. Deliberately causing one’s own death, however, was considered most unnatural and brought shame on the individual and their family.
In the past, to contemplate such a drastic act a person had not only given up hope of life, but a profound belief in the afterlife meant they had also given up all hope of the hereafter – ‘the dread of something after death, / The undiscovered country, from whose bourn / No traveller returns’ (Hamlet). Suicide was a grave sin, something Hamlet is evidently concerned about when he contemplates his own suicide, ‘that the Everlasting had not fix’d / His canon ’gainst self-slaughter!’ The remains of suicides were buried in unconsecrated ground, at crossroads, or in fields, and with a stake driven through their body. And, as if that weren’t enough punishment, suicide and attempted suicide were criminal offences – all the victim’s money and possessions would be confiscated by the state.
Contrary to what might be expected in Elizabethan society, Shakespeare’s suicidal characters are not shunned and ignored; they are mourned and pitied. The double suicide of Romeo and Juliet, brought about by a series of simple misunderstandings; Eros, ‘Thrice-nobler than myself!’ who kills himself rather than his friend Antony; or Othello, who realises too late that his wife was innocent and kills himself over the guilt of her murder, are all usually seen as tragic wastes of life. They are figures of sympathy rather than shame.1
In the majority of cases, had the character in question waited a little longer, their circumstances would have changed and misunderstandings would have been corrected. Hope and a happier life is just around the corner, but the character can’t see it. Signs that can lead to suicide are also missed and opportunities to help are lost, due either to simple ignorance or to society’s negative attitude.
Much has changed since the sixteenth century. Public opinion is overwhelmingly sympathetic and there is much more help available. Those contemplating suicide can be more open about their feelings without being ostracised. Support organisations that offer sympathy and help can be easily reached, such as counselling services, Samaritans or suicide hotlines. Today, talking to friends and loved ones is most likely to elicit compassion and care rather than condemnation. Such opportunities were not available to Shakespeare’s characters, even though in some cases suicidal tendencies are noticed and attempts made to help and prevent them. Studies have shown that one method of preventing suicide is restricting access to the means of carrying it out, which is a tactic employed in a few of Shakespeare’s plays.
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In the periods when he set his plays, from the sixteenth century stretching back to ancient Roman times, methods of suicide were inefficient and agonising.
To die – to sleep –
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to – ’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d. To die – to sleep.
To sleep – perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub!
Hamlet’s description of death as like falling asleep may have been what he wished for, but the reality was usually very different.
More than a dozen characters commit suicide in Shakespeare’s play and poems, and more than half do so by stabbing themselves, three of these occurring in just one play (Julius Caesar). In the majority of these cases the playwright was following the historical record, and these lessons from history show that to fall on your sword is not necessarily a swift and noble death. It is a dramatic but painful and violent method that does not always result in the rapid end many may be hoping for. Shakespeare was horribly aware of the miserable reality of self-inflicted stab wounds.
It takes a lot of determination to commit such a violent act on your own body in the full knowledge of the pain that it is going to cause. The three deaths in Julius Caesar are a case in point. Two of the three suicides, Cassius and Brutus, have to enlist help from devoted friends to carry out the act, by requesting their friend stab them or hold the sword while they fall on it. In Antony and Cleopatra, Antony, believing Cleopatra is dead, tries to enlist the help of his friend Eros to kill him. But Eros kills himself rather than Antony. His sacrifice to save Antony’s life actually spurs Antony on. ‘Thrice-nobler than myself! / Thou teachest me, O valiant Eros, what / I should, and thou couldst not.’ Copycat suicide is not a new phenomenon.
The situation with Eros and Antony also shows how self-stabbing can easily be botched. Antony falls on his sword but fails to give himself the swift dramatic death he craves: ‘How! not dead? not dead?’ His sword likely failed to pierce a vital organ or major blood vessel. Though he begs those around him to ‘give me / Sufficing strokes for death’, they refuse. He collapses in agony, slowly bleeding to death. In another horrifying twist, he then learns that Cleopatra is still alive and his dramatic gesture has been for nothing. Unable to stand, he has to be carried to her to say his farewell. It is not until the next scene and 140 lines later that Antony eventually succumbs to his wound.
The chances of surviving a stab wound, whether self-inflicted or otherwise, depends largely on what is damaged by the blade. Stab wounds to the abdomen, for example, can bleed relatively slowly if they miss the spleen and major blood vessels, and death can be delayed for several hours. Wounds to the intestines may be survived initially, thanks to modern surgical techniques, only for peritonitis to set in that can lead to life-threatening infections throughout the whole body.
Stabbing the chest, the target area for all of Shakespeare’s self-stabbings, might be expected to be more rapidly fatal, but it is not straightforward. The vital organs within the thoracic cavity are protected by the rib cage. A sharp blade can easily penetrate the intercostal muscles and cartilage between the ribs but the injury that results can vary.
Bleeding into the chest cavity (haemothorax) can be considerable if a major blood vessel or the heart has been punctured. Surprisingly there might not be much external bleeding, as when the knife is withdrawn the tissues can overlap and close up like a valve. The victim can bleed to death internally with little sign of the damage from the outside.
In other cases a hole can be made connecting the interior and exterior of the chest, causing a ‘sucking wound’. When the victim breathes, instead of drawing air through the nose and mouth, air enters into the chest directly through the wound.
It is a ‘sucking wound’ that is the likely cause of death for the title figure in Shakespeare’s long narrative poem The Rape of Lucrece. Lucrece stabs herself in the chest over shame at her rape. The injustice of her situation is explored at length: ‘O, let it not be hild / Poor women’s faults, that they are so fulfill’d / With men’s abuses: those proud lords, to blame, / Make weak-made women tenants to their shame.’ Her rapist is racked with guilt and punished by banishment. He loses the right to enter the city of Rome, but Lucrece loses her life. The disparate treatment of the two is noted: ‘To slay herself, that should have slain her foe.’
Lucrece’s plan, ‘against my heart / Will fix a sharp knife to affright mine eye; / Who, if it wink, shall thereon fall and die’, does not work. Her life doesn’t end in a wink. The witnesses to her suicide stand and watch apparently stunned into inaction. Little help is offered to the dying woman, but then there was little that could have been done to save her. The horror of the rape, and the wound Lucrece inflicts on herself, shocks not only those around her that witness the stabbing, but the reader as well.
The detailed description of her wound emphasises the brutality of her treatment at the hands of her rapist. Blood ‘bubbling from her breast’ suggests that air is escaping through the wound and that she pierced a lung rather than her heart as she had intended. The line ‘this fearful flood’ shows bleeding was extensive and the likely cause of death in this case.
This poem also demonstrates Shakespeare had made some detailed observations of the behaviour of blood. ‘Some of her blood still pure and red remain’d, / And some look’d black’ is a direct acknowledgement of how blood can change its appearance. Though the black colour is attributed to tainting from her rapist’s sin, the line ‘Congealed face of that black blood’ shows the poet also understood there could be a physical explanation for the change. As the blood comes into contact with the air, it coagulates and darkens. The words ‘watery rigol’ describe how congealed blood can separate into clots and serum.
The fact that both red and blackened, fresh and congealed, blood is present around Lucrece’s wound would indicate she remained alive for some time after the stabbing. She would have been in considerable pain and struggling to breathe throughout.
As with many of Shakespeare’s suicides, Lucrece’s death is lamented: ‘Do wounds help wounds, or grief help grievous deeds?’ – there is no attempt to cover up the manner of her death and in fact it prompts her family to seek justice.
Even if the heart isn’t always specifically mentioned, it is the target in Shakespeare’s self-stabbing cases – ‘Come, Cassius’ sword, and find Tintinius’ heart’ (Julius Caesar). It would seem to be the most obvious way to achieve a rapid death. What is not so obvious is that the organ is remarkably resilient to stab wounds.
First of all, the heart is well protected by the rib cage, and the breast bone in particular. It takes considerably more force to penetrate bone with a blade than muscle or cartilage. The blade must also be long enough and angled correctly to reach the heart. But even then things may not go as swiftly as might be expected.
There are several examples from history of stabbings directly to the heart that have not proved immediately fatal. For example, in one case in the twentieth century, a homicide victim was stabbed through the heart but still ran more than a quarter of a mile to chase down his attacker before collapsing. The damage observed in post-mortem examinations is not an accurate predictor of how long a person can survive stabbings to the chest. Comparisons of eye-witness accounts of stabbings with pathology results would back up Shakespeare’s observations of both rapid and prolonged deaths from stab wounds.
Some parts of the heart are more vulnerable than others. The left ventricle of the heart has a thick wall of muscle that, when it contracts, can partly seal a wound. Life can continue while blood leaks into the pericardium (the sac surrounding the heart). At a certain point the pericardium will become full of blood. The pressure of the liquid means the heart can no longer expand and death occurs (a situation described clinically as ‘cardiac tamponade’). Wounds of the right ventricle, however, are often more rapidly fatal as the thinner wall is not so effective in stopping blood from escaping. In contrast, damage to the major blood vessels that enter the heart is rarely survivable. Today, emergency treatment can stem blood flow, transfusions can compensate for blood loss and modern surgical techniques can attempt to repair the damage if the individual is reached in time. But little or nothing could be done in the past and it was simply a matter of waiting for the inevitable.
Many of the self-stabbings in Shakespeare’s works are based on historical fact or well-known stories. The Roman characters Brutus, Tintinius, Cassius, Cato, Mark Antony and Eros were all real people, and they all died by self-inflicted wounds. The characters Romeo and Juliet, Pyramus and Thisbe (depicted in A Midsummer Night’s Dream) and Lucrece, were popular from poems and prose works long before Shakespeare placed them on the stage. Depicting self-stabbings onstage was not only faithful to the original stories but created a visually arresting and dramatic moment. It is also relatively easy to portray. Swords could be safely slipped under arms to avoid injury and bladders of blood could be pierced to allow blood to flow (see Chapter 2).
This is perhaps one reason why Shakespeare chose self-stabbing for Othello’s death even though this was not in the original story. In Giovanni Battista Giraldi’s tale, A Moorish Captain, the Othello character did not commit suicide. He escaped from the prison where he was being punished for his part in his wife’s murder, only to be killed by her relatives to avenge her death. Another reason is that by changing who killed Othello, Shakespeare has the character acknowledge his guilt and portrays him in a more sympathetic light. It also increases Iago’s guilt, as Othello’s suicide was ultimately the result of his actions. It is a much more complex depiction of human behaviour and motivations than the original story.
Other methods of suicide Shakespeare explored in his plays were not so easy to stage and did not always follow the accepted real-life events he dramatised. It is interesting to speculate why he chose some of them. One suicide in particular presents problems in terms of staging, certainly as far as the health and welfare of the actor involved is concerned. The stage directions for Arthur in King John appear to require the actor to fall from a height in full view of the audience.
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King John is perhaps Shakespeare’s least performed play. Its relative obscurity means the plot and characters are not as familiar to audiences as others. One of the main themes of the play is sovereignty: whether it is Arthur or John who should wear the crown. Outside the walls of Angiers, English troops are massed in support of John and a French army is also there in support of Arthur. Angiers remains resolutely neutral in the whole affair. There is an inconclusive battle and all sides are forced back into negotiations. A lot of discussion, a strategic marriage and a treaty between the two sides manages to avoid another war, but only temporarily. John is accepted as King of England but relations between the two nations break down when John defies an instruction from the Pope. France (supporters of the Pope) and England (supporters of their king) find themselves in opposition again. War ensues, during which Arthur is captured by the English.
The young Arthur is entrusted to the care of Hubert de Burgh, in reality a powerful administrator John had sent to France to assist in the wars, but in the play more of an evil henchman carrying out John’s orders. One of those orders is to kill Arthur. With Arthur out of the way, John believes his claim to the English throne will be stronger than ever.
At Rouen Castle, Hubert means to kill Arthur by putting out his eyes with hot irons. But the boy’s pleas melt his captor’s heart and Arthur’s life is saved. Hubert returns to John and confesses that he has failed the King, and Arthur still lives. But, while Hubert is away making his confession, the young boy takes the opportunity to disguise himself and try to escape.
He stands on the castle walls contemplating the drop in front of him. Arthur does not intend to die, but understands it is a likely outcome of his actions: ‘I am afraid; and yet I’ll venture it. / If I get down, and do not break my limbs, / I’ll find a thousand shifts to get away’. He reasons that if he dies in the attempt he still wouldn’t be in a worse position than he is now, i.e. likely to die by John’s orders – ‘As good to die and go, as die and stay.’
Arthur’s wish, ‘Good ground, be pitiful and hurt me not!’ does not come true. The fall is fatal but he does not die straight away. His injuries are severe, but he survives long enough to speak two more short lines.
Studies by NASA have shown that falling from a height of six metres (20ft) onto a hard surface and landing on your feet is likely to cause major trauma. From this height the body will be travelling around 25 mph when it hits the ground. But thanks to modern medicine such a fall is probably survivable. Arthur was living, and dying, in the thirteenth century, without any practical medical help. At a height of 7 to 12 metres (23–40ft) survival is questionable. Anything above 12 metres and onto rocks is almost certain death.2
The height of a fall does not always correlate with the damage sustained. Some people can be killed by falling from a standing height, while others may jump from a great height and escape without injury, usually because of some cushioning effect.3 The type and severity of the injuries largely depends not only on the height of the fall but also on which part of the body hits the ground first.
Controlling a fall is very difficult. Even if Arthur simply allowed his body to drop, falling from a height and aiming to land on his feet, it wouldn’t have been simple. Depending on the height, and other factors, the body can tumble as it falls, meaning any part of the body might be pointing downwards when it eventually hits the ground. Bodies can also bounce and ricochet on their way down.
Landing from a fall on the top of the head is rare, even from a considerable height. The thickness of skulls varies from place to place as well as between individuals but there is likely to be a massive fracture. Landing on the feet is more likely, and damage can occur not only to the bones in the legs, but the legs can also be forced upwards through the pelvis. The force of impact can then be transmitted up the spine causing damage at any, or all, points along the route, even all the way up into the skull.
If the fall is onto the side, any combination of injuries can occur. Ribs, arms and shoulder bones can be broken and internal organs, such as the liver, lungs, heart and spleen, can be lacerated or ripped from their moorings. When the chest is suddenly decelerated, the aorta connecting the heart to the rest of the circulatory system can be ruptured, leading to massive haemorrhage that will kill quickly.
Injuries can vary enormously from one case to the next. Some bodies can be severely fragmented but in some cases the skin can be almost intact, obscuring the severe disruption that has occurred to the internal organs. Post-mortem examinations have shown that it is almost impossible to determine the height of a fall from the nature and severity of the injuries.
How Shakespeare imagined that Arthur’s drop would be depicted onstage is difficult to say. Stage directions are kept to a bare minimum: ‘[He leaps down]’. There are no details as to how this might be achieved safely. Surely the actor in question has to fall on something cushioned to avoid the same fate as Arthur. He could jump out of sight of the audience but the actor then needs to be seen to deliver his final two lines and his body must remain in place to be discovered by a group of English lords.
However it might be achieved, it needn’t be a realistic depiction. As has been discussed before in Chapter 2, realism was not necessarily the goal of Elizabethan theatre. An emotional response from the audience can be provoked in many ways: by Arthur’s defiant speech, for example, and the lords’ laments when they discover the body. It is the desire to escape and Arthur’s bravery in attempting it, in full knowledge of the possible consequences, which are the important aspects of the death, not the manner of it. An audience doesn’t need to see a broken body to appreciate the tragedy of a young man’s death.
When Arthur’s dead body is discovered by the English lords they speculate over the circumstances of his death – did he jump or was he pushed? Hubert interrupts the scene. His initial jubilation that he has done the right thing by saving the boy swiftly gives way to despair when he finds the lords mourning over Arthur’s body. Hubert is briefly accused of having pushed the boy off the wall, but it is impossible to prove one way or the other. Hubert’s evident distress at Arthur’s death, however, counts in his favour. Even today evidence to determine accident, suicide or murder at the scene of a fatal fall is difficult to obtain and often relies on circumstantial evidence such as blood-alcohol levels, suicide notes and testimony from friends and family over the victim’s state of mind.
Determining how the real-life Arthur died is just as difficult, owing to a lack of clear forensic evidence and reliance on rumour. Holinshed’s Chronicles, Shakespeare’s source for the play, states he was to be killed by having his eyes put out, but was saved by Hubert de Burgh. From that point onwards, Shakespeare and the historical record diverge. The Chronicles note several theories of Arthur’s fate, including one that he attempted to escape by climbing down the walls of Rouen Castle and jumped into the Seine, where he drowned. Another theory says the boy was consumed with grief and pined away, dying of a natural sickness. Yet another version of events, said to come from the commander of Rouen Castle, claims that agents were sent by King John to castrate Arthur and he died of shock from the bungled surgery.
Most of these accounts were written by those who didn’t like Arthur and wanted to discredit him. It may be more likely that Arthur died of disease when in prison. Shakespeare seems sympathetic to the young man and gives him more choice over his end than the real-life Arthur may have had.
A large part of the tragedy of Arthur’s death in the play is that he is so young. It is an uncomfortably accurate scenario that echoes real life, as most suicides are committed by adolescent boys and young men. To compound the horror, Shakespeare emphasises the futility of his death. Had Arthur waited a little longer he would have heard the news from Hubert that King John wanted him to live.
Shakespeare may have chosen an impractical way to stage Arthur’s death, but the emotional impact is huge. However, it isn’t always necessary to show the final moments of a character to elicit sympathy from an audience. Portia’s horrific death in Julius Caesar is a case in point.
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Portia spends little time onstage, but when she does she is clearly preoccupied and unwell. From her very first appearance in the play, her health is described as poor – as her husband Brutus says, ‘It is not for your health thus to commit / Your weak condition to the raw cold morning.’ Evidence of her distressed state of mind comes when she reveals to Brutus that she has been self-harming: ‘Giving myself a voluntary wound / Here, in the thigh’.
A few scenes later she complains of feeling faint with worry over her husband. She sends a servant to find out news of him. The last we see of her is outside her house not wanting to worry her husband but desperate to hear news of his meeting with Caesar: ‘Run, Lucius, and commend me to my lord; / Say I am merry: come to me again, / And bring me word what he doth say to thee.’ The play moves on and Portia, worried and in poor health, is temporarily forgotten.
In the second half of the play, the action has moved away from Rome to the site of battle between forces loyal to Brutus and those loyal to Mark Antony. While Brutus is sitting in his tent planning his campaign against Mark Antony, he announces to Cassius, ‘Portia is dead.’
Such a bald statement takes Cassius, and the audience, by surprise. Brutus has to repeat himself, ‘She is dead.’ Cassius’s first thought is that she must have been sick, but Brutus explains:
Impatient of my absence,
And grief that young Octavius with Mark Antony
Have made themselves so strong: – for with her death
That tidings came; – with this she fell distract,
And, her attendants absent, swallow’d fire.
The dialogue then moves on to other topics. Just when it seems Portia is to be forgotten again, news of the death is repeated a third time. Some have suggested that it is an error when the play was printed, but when it is acted out onstage it is very effective. Cassius, struggling to come to terms with what he has been told, repeats ‘Portia, art thou gone?’ showing how difficult it can be to accept such sudden and devastating news. Brutus in reply pleads ‘No more, I pray you.’ A similar pattern is used in Antony and Cleopatra when Antony receives news that his wife Fulvia has died after a long sickness. The news has to be repeated several times before it sinks in.
The manner of Portia’s death is particularly shocking. Swallowing fire was not an invention of Shakespeare’s for dramatic purposes. Plutarch, the Greek biographer, wrote:
As for Porcia, the wife of Brutus, Nicolaüs the philosopher, as well as Valerius Maximus, relates that she now desired to die, but was opposed by all her friends, who kept strict watch upon her; whereupon she snatched up live coals from the fire, swallowed them, kept her mouth fast closed, and thus made away with herself.
However, Plutarch was not convinced the account was true. Modern historians also doubt the veracity of the method. Swallowing hot coals, if it is even physically possible, is an extreme act. Death would be likely to be caused by the swelling of the damaged tissues in the throat closing the airway and suffocating the poor woman. The pain would have been excruciating. Instead it has been suggested that Portia burned coal or charcoal in a closed room and died of carbon monoxide poisoning.
Whatever the method, it shows how unwell Portia must have been. It seems that those around her knew, or at least suspected, her intentions and did their best to prevent it. In Hamlet, Ophelia also shows potentially suicidal behaviour, but it appears to go unrecognised. Her brother Laertes seems more concerned with exacting revenge on Hamlet, the person he blames for his sister’s madness, rather than helping Ophelia.
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Ophelia’s death is perhaps the most famous of all in Shakespeare’s canon. Her drowning, even though it takes place offstage for obvious reasons of practicality, has been imagined and immortalised in poems, songs, and paintings ever since. The event itself may not be shown to Shakespeare’s audiences but it is described in detail by Gertrude:
There is a willow grows aslant a brook,
That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream.
There with fantastic garlands did she come
Of crowflowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples,
That liberal shepherds give a grosser name,
But our cold maids do dead men’s fingers call them.
There on the pendant boughs her coronet weeds
Clamb’ring to hang, an envious sliver broke,
When down her weedy trophies and herself
Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide
And, mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up;
Which time she chaunted snatches of old tunes,
As one incapable of her own distress,
Or like a creature native and indued
Unto that element; but long it could not be
Till that her garments, heavy with their drink,
Pull’d the poor wretch from her melodious lay
To muddy death.
The build-up to this moment is considerable. Hamlet’s erratic behaviour towards Ophelia and his cruel rejection comes to a crisis when he murders her father. Ophelia is shown distracted, barely aware of her surroundings and talking repeatedly about her father’s death, acting out a mock funeral to an imaginary audience. Her behaviour is a ‘document in madness!’
Gertrude’s account of Ophelia’s death suggests it is her distraction and unawareness of her surroundings that is the cause rather than a deliberate attempt to kill herself. Her interest in flowers and singing snatches of old tunes is a continuation of her previous behaviour. It seems she barely even notices that she is in danger and makes no effort to save herself.
Today, Ophelia’s death would be mourned as a tragic accident and might prompt investigations into whether something could have been done to prevent it. In the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries the discussion would have been slightly different and focused on her intentions.
Drowning was the most common method of self-destruction for women in Shakespeare’s era. It was important to establish whether the act had been intentional or not in order to give an appropriate burial for the body. The decision would be made by the coroner, referred to in Hamlet as the ‘crowner’. If the death was by the person’s own volition, the body would not be buried in consecrated ground and all their property would be seized by the Crown. Suicide as a result of madness made the death free of sin and conventional burial and inheritance was allowed, but this verdict was rarely given in the sixteenth century. In the play, the subject is discussed by two gravediggers:
First clown: Is she to be buried in Christian burial when she wilfully seeks her own salvation?
Second clown: I tell thee she is; therefore make her grave straight.
The crowner hath sate on her, and finds it Christian burial.
First clown: How can that be, unless she drown’d herself in her own defence?
Second clown: Why, ’tis found so.
Gertrude, in her report of the death, emphasises both Ophelia’s behaviour and the fact that a branch happened to break under her. However, when it comes to the funeral it is clear the priest is not convinced over the verdict, saying ‘Her death was doubtful’, and he won’t perform the full ceremony. ‘No more be done. / We should profane the service of the dead / To sing a requiem and such rest to her / As to peace-parted souls.’ He makes it clear that he thinks more has already been done for her than she deserves: ‘Shards, flints, and pebbles should be thrown on her.’ Ophelia’s burial in consecrated ground but with a minimum ceremony was a compromise only rarely offered in this era.
Accidental death does not seem to have been considered, despite Gertrude’s assertions, but this would also have allowed a Christian burial. The difficulty then, as it is today, is in differentiating accident from suicide. In drowning cases there are no characteristic post-mortem signs that can be used to distinguish between the two. Circumstantial evidence, such as leaving notes or removing clothes and glasses before entering the water, is used to establish suicidal intention. But not every suicide behaves in this way.
Although there is debate about whether Ophelia fell by accident or willingly, there is no doubt that she drowned. Drowning is in effect a form of asphyxia. Water displaces the air that would normally flow into the throat and lungs. Suicidal drownings are less likely to fight against the sudden influx of water – Ophelia seems to have been very passive in her final moments. Her clothes buoyed her up for a while until they became soaked and helped drag her body under the water. She, like some people, may have been able to hold her breath for around a minute. Oxygen reserves within the body could delay brain death for a few more minutes. After that, even if her body was recovered from the water, she would be unlikely to survive.
Asphyxia is the usual cause of death in drowning cases but there are other important factors involved. Sudden immersion in cold water can cause intense stimulation of nerve endings just below the skin, inducing changes in normal heart rhythm and triggering cardiac arrest. Cold water entering the pharynx and larynx can stimulate nerve endings in the mucous membranes with the same result for the heart. The fact that Ophelia was picking flowers immediately before she drowned suggests spring or summer, so it was probably not cold enough for these effects.
Another possible mechanism of death when the head is submersed is that a gulp of water enters the trachea, causing a reflex cardiac arrest before there is time for lack of oxygen to take effect. This explains the deaths of individuals who have been pulled from the water very quickly after immersion. There is no indication of how long Ophelia was submerged before her body was recovered.
Not all drowning victims have water in their lungs. So-called ‘dry-lung’ drownings occur, it is thought, because of ‘laryngeal spasms’ causing closure of the airway. However, death in these cases is still due to lack of oxygen. But in most cases it is water entering the lungs that is the problem, and it isn’t simply the displacement of air that causes changes in the body.
In the lungs, diffusion causes fresh water to be drawn into the bloodstream and dilutes the blood.4 The extra water can increase the blood volume by 50 per cent and in its diluted state it cannot carry out its normal functions effectively. The water also disrupts the blood itself by destroying red blood cells. Sometimes, in cases of so-called near-drowning, when the victim is pulled from the water and recovers, there is a later threat to life from water in the lungs (pulmonary oedema) and infection, particularly if the drowning occurred in brackish water.
In the play, Laertes’ comment ‘Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia,’ is a very good way of describing many of the dangers of drowning. It also suggests some examination of the body, or maybe even an attempt at revival, that found evidence of water in the lungs. If attempts were made to save Ophelia, they were not successful – ‘Alas, then she is drown’d?’
Lifeless bodies are denser than water and sink. The head is the densest part and will sink first. Ophelia would have remained under the water, most likely facing upwards, until someone could pull her body from the water. The most famous image of Ophelia’s death, by the Pre-Raphaelite John Everett Millais, has inspired countless reproductions and imitations. These romanticised images show Ophelia placidly floating in a stream but still alive. The reality of her ‘muddy death’ would not make an appealing image.
Hamlet also shows the devastating effects of suicide on those left behind. Gertrude is in mourning, Laertes is in shock and Claudius is angry. Hamlet’s sudden appearance at the funeral sparks a row between him and Laertes and they come to blows. There is blame and accusation on all sides. Everyone struggles to come to terms with the death.
Although Shakespeare’s play is an adaptation of a much earlier story from the Gesta Danorum, he made considerable changes and additions to the plot. There is an Ophelia character in the original tale, but she does not go mad and does not kill herself. Shakespeare also made use of an earlier play by Thomas Kyd, known as Ur-Hamlet, but the play is lost and it is not known if it was Kyd who first introduced the idea of Ophelia’s death by drowning.
Another possible source of inspiration comes from real-life events close to Shakespeare’s Stratford home. In 1580 a young woman named Katherine Hamlett drowned in the river Avon. It happened near Tiddington at a junction in the river overhung with willow trees. The rumour was she had committed suicide but her family insisted she had fallen when she went to draw water from the river. The coroner must have agreed with the family as she received a Christian burial.
It has been speculated that Shakespeare could have worked as a town clerk in Stratford, where he might have heard of the case. He might also have heard about it from his father, who was an alderman in Stratford and would have been involved in investigating such cases as part of his civic duties. Wherever the story of Ophelia’s tragic life and death came from, it is a haunting exploration of grief and suicide.
Notes
1 Despite Shakespeare’s more tolerant view of suicide he seems to have had little impact on society’s perceptions. Suicide and attempted suicide were only decriminalised in the UK in 1961.
2 The terminal velocity of a human in the pike position (bent over at the waist) is roughly 200 mph.
3 Staging falls from a height requires experts and detailed planning to be carried out safely. Stunt performers train and rehearse to carry out their work but there are still risks.
4 Salt-water drownings cause the reverse process, where water is drawn out of the body to dilute the salt.