[321] D'Avenant commenced his poem during his exile at Paris. The
preface is dated from the Louvre; the postscript from Cowes
Castle, in the Isle of Wight, where he was then confined,
expecting his immediate execution. The poem, in the first
edition, 1651, is therefore abruptly concluded. There is
something very affecting and great in his style on this
occasion. "I am here arrived at the middle of the third book.
But it is high time to strike sail and cast anchor, though I
have run but half my course, when at the helm I am threatened
with _death_; who, though he can visit us but once, seems
troublesome; and even in the innocent may beget such a
gravity, as diverts the music of verse. Even in a worthy
design, I shall ask leave to desist, when I am interrupted by
so great an experiment as _dying_;--and 'tis an experiment to
the most experienced; for no man (though his mortifications
may be much greater than mine) can say _he has already
died_."--D'Avenant is said to have written a letter to Hobbes
about this time, giving some account of his progress in the
third book. "But why (said he) should I trouble you or myself
with these thoughts, when I am pretty certain I shall be
hanged next week?"--A stroke of the gaiety of temper of a very
thoughtful mind; for D'Avenant, with all his wit and fancy,
has made the profoundest reflections on human life.
The reader may be interested to know, that after D'Avenant's
removal from Cowes to the Tower, to be tried, his life was
saved by the gratitude of two aldermen of York, whom he had
obliged. It is delightful to believe the story told by
Bishop Newton, that D'Avenant owed his life to Milton; Wood,
indeed, attributes our poet's escape to both; at the
Restoration D'Avenant interposed, and saved Milton. Poets,
after all, envious as they are to a brother, are the most
generously-tempered of men: they libel, but they never hang;
they will indeed throw out a sarcasm on the man whom they
saved from being hanged. "Please your Majesty," said Sir
John Denham, "do not hang George Withers--that it may not
be said I am the worst poet alive."
[322] It would form a very curious piece of comparative criticism,
were the opinions and the arguments of all the critics--those
of the time and of the present day--thrown into the
smelting-pot. The massiness of some opinions of great
authority would be reduced to a thread of wire; and even what
is accepted as standard ore might shrink into "a gilt
sixpence." On one side, the condemners of D'Avenant would be
Rymer, Blackwall, Granger, Knox, Hurd, and Hayley; and the
advocates would be Hobbes, Waller, Cowley, Dr. Aikin, Headley,
&c. Rymer opened his Aristotelian text-book. He discovers that
the poet's first lines do not give any light into his design
(it is probable D'Avenant would have found it hard to have
told it to Mr. Rymer); that it has neither proposition nor
invocation--(Rymer might have filled these up himself); so
that "he chooses to enter into the top of the house, because
the mortals of mean and satisfied minds go in at the door;"
and then "he has no hero or action so illustrious that the
_name_ of the poem prepared the reader for its reception."
D'Avenant had rejected the marvellous from his poem--that is,
the machinery of the epic: he had resolved to compose a tale
of human beings for men. "This was," says Blackwall, another
of the classical flock, "like lopping off a man's limb, and
then putting him upon running races." Our formal critics are
quite lively in their dulness on our "adventurer." But poets,
in the crisis of a poetical revolution, are more legitimate
judges than all such critics. Waller and Cowley applaud
D'Avenant for this very omission of the epical machinery in
this new vein of invention:--
"Here no bold tales of gods or monsters swell,
But human passions such as with us dwell;
_Man is thy theme_, his virtue or his rage,
Drawn to the life in each elaborate page."
WALLER.
"Methinks heroic poesy, till now,
Like some fantastic fairy-land did show,
_And all but man, in man's best work had place_."
COWLEY.
Hurd's discussion on "Gondibert," in his "Commentaries," is
the most important piece of criticism; subtle, ingenious, and
exquisitely analytical. But he holds out the fetter of
authority, and he decides as a judge who expounds laws; not
the best decision, when new laws are required to abrogate
obsolete ones. And what laws invented by man can be immutable?
D'Avenant was thus tried by the laws of a country, that of
Greece or Rome, of which, it is said, he was not even a
denizen.
It is remarkable that all the critics who condemn D'Avenant
could not but be struck by his excellences, and are very
particular in expressing their admiration of his genius. I
mean all the critics who have read the poem: some assuredly
have criticised with little trouble.
[323] It is written in the long four-lined stanzas, which Dryden
adopted for his _Annus Mirabilis_; nearly 2000 of such stanzas
are severe trials for the critical reader.--ED.
[324] I select some of these lines as examples.
Of Care, who only "seals her eyes in cloisters," he says,
"She visits cities, but she dwells in thrones."
Of learned Curiosity, eager, but not to be hurried--the
student is
"Hasty to know, though not by haste beguiled."
He calls a library, with sublime energy,
"The monument of vanish'd minds."
Never has a politician conveyed with such force a most
important precept:
------------"The laws,
Men from themselves, but not from power, secure."
Of the Court he says,
"There prosperous power sleeps long, though suitors wake."
"Be bold, for number cancels bashfulness;
Extremes, from which a King would blushing shrink,
Unblushing senates act as no excess."
And these lines, taken as they occur:
"Truth's a discovery made by travelling minds."
"Honour's the moral conscience of the great."
"They grow so certain as to need no hope."
"Praise is devotion fit for mighty minds."
I conclude with one complete stanza, of the same cast of
reflection. It may be inscribed in the library of the student,
in the studio of the artist, in every place where excellence
can only be obtained by knowledge.
"Rich are the diligent, who can command
Time, nature's stock! and, could his hour-glass fall,
Would, as for seed of stars, stoop for the sand,
And by incessant labour gather all!"
[325] Can one read such passages as these without catching some of the
sympathies of a great genius that knows itself?
"He who writes an heroic poem leaves an estate entailed, and
he gives a greater gift to posterity than to the present age;
for a public benefit is best measured in the number of
receivers; and our contemporaries are but few when reckoned
with those who shall succeed.
"If thou art a malicious reader, thou wilt remember my preface
boldly confessed, that a main motive to the undertaking was a
desire of fame; and thou mayest likewise say, I may very
possibly not live to enjoy it. Truly, I have some years ago
considered that Fame, like Time, only gets a reverence by long
running; and that, like a river, 'tis narrowest where 'tis
bred, and broadest afar off.
"If thou, reader, art one of those who have been warmed with
poetic fire, I reverence thee as my judge; and whilst others
tax me with vanity, I appeal to thy conscience whether it be
more than such a necessary assurance as thou hast made to
thyself in like undertakings? For when I observe that writers
have many enemies, such inward assurance, methinks, resembles
that forward confidence in men of arms, which makes them
proceed in great enterprise; since the right examination of
abilities begins with inquiring whether we doubt ourselves."
Such a composition is injured by mutilation. He here also
alludes to his military character: "Nor could I sit idle and
sigh with such as mourn to hear the drum; for if the age be
not quiet enough to be taught virtue a pleasant way, the next
may be at leisure; nor could I (like men that have civilly
slept till they are old in dark cities) think war a novelty."
Shakspeare could not have expressed his feelings, in his own
style, more eloquently touching than D'Avenant.
[326] It is said there were four writers. The Clinias and Dametas were
probably Sir John Denham and Jo. Donne; Sir Allan Broderick
and Will Crofts, who is mentioned by the clubs as one of their
fellows, appear to be the Sancho and Jack Pudding. Will Crofts
was a favourite with Charles II: he had been a skilful agent,
as appears in Clarendon. [In the accounts of moneys disbursed
for secret services in the reign of Charles II., published by
the Camden Society, his name appears for 200_l._, but that of
his wife repeatedly figures for large sums, "as of free
guift." In this way she receives 700_l._ with great regularity
for a series of years, until the death of Charles II.] Howell
has a poem "On some who, blending their brains together,
plotted how to bespatter one of the Muses' choicest sons, Sir
William D'Avenant."
[327] The story was current in D'Avenant's time, and it is certain he
encouraged the believers in its truth. Anthony Wood speaks of
the lady as "a very beautiful woman, of a good wit and
conversation, in which she was imitated by none of her
children but by this William." He also notes Shakspeare's
custom to lodge at the Crown Inn, Oxford, kept by her husband,
"in his journies between Warwickshire and London." Aubrey
tells the same tale, adding that D'Avenant "would sometimes,
when he was pleasant over a glass of wine with his most
intimate friends, _e.g._ Sam. Butler (author of 'Hudibras,'
&c.,) say, that it seemed to him that he writ with the very
same spirit that Shakspeare did, and was contented enough to
be thought his son;" he adds that "his mother had a very light
report." It was Pope who told Oldys the jesting story he had
obtained from Betterton, of little Will running from school to
meet Shakspeare, in one of his visits to Oxford, and being
asked where he was running, by an old townsman, replied, to
"see my godfather Shakspeare." "There's a good boy," said the
old gentleman, "but have a care that you don't take God's name
in vain."--ED.
[328] The scene where the story of "Gondibert" is placed, which the
wits sometimes pronounced _Lumber_ and _Lumbery_.
THE
PAPER-WARS OF THE CIVIL WARS.
The "Mercuries" and "Diurnals," archives of political fictions--"The
Diurnals," in the pay of the Parliament, described by BUTLER and
CLEVELAND--Sir JOHN BIRKENHEAD excels in sarcasm, with specimens
of his "Mercurius Aulicus"--how he corrects his own lies--Specimens
of the Newspapers on the side of the Commonwealth.
Among these battles of logomachy, in which so much ink has been spilt,
and so many pens have lost their edge--at a very solemn period in our
history, when all around was distress and sorrow, stood forwards the
facetious ancestors of that numerous progeny who still flourish among
us, and who, without a suspicion of their descent, still bear the
features of their progenitors, and inherit so many of the family
humours. These were the MERCURIES and DIURNALS--the newspapers of our
Civil Wars.
The distinguished heroes of these Paper-Wars, Sir John Birkenhead,
Marchmont Needham, and Sir Roger L'Estrange, I have elsewhere
portrayed.[329] We have had of late correct lists of these works; but
no one seems as yet to have given any clear notion of their spirit and
their manner.
The London Journals in the service of the Parliament were usually the
_Diurnals_. These politicians practised an artifice which cannot be
placed among "the lost inventions." As these were hawked about the
metropolis to spur curiosity, often languid from over-exercise, or to
wheedle an idle spectator into a reader, every paper bore on its front
the inviting heads of its intelligence. Men placed in the same
circumstances will act in the same manner, without any notion of
imitation; and the passions of mankind are now addressed by the same
means which our ancestors employed, by those who do not suspect they
are copying them.
These _Diurnals_ have been blasted by the lightnings of Butler and
Cleveland. Hudibras is made happy at the idea that he may be
Register'd by fame eternal,
In deathless pages of DIURNAL.
But Cleveland has left us two remarkable effusions of his satiric and
vindictive powers, in his curious character of "A Diurnal Maker," and
"A London Diurnal." He writes in the peculiar vein of the wit of those
times, with an originality of images, whose combinations excite
surprise, and whose abundance fatigues our weaker delicacy.
"A Diurnal-Maker is the Sub-Almoner of History; Queen Mab's Register;
one whom, by the same figure that a North-country pedler is a
merchantman, you may style an author. The silly countryman who, seeing
an ape in a scarlet coat, blessed his young worship, and gave his
landlord joy of the hopes of his house, did not slander his compliment
with worse application than he that names this shred an historian. To
call him an Historian is to knight a Mandrake; 'tis to view him
through a perspective, and, by that gross hyperbole, to give the
reputation of an engineer to a maker of mousetraps. When these weekly
fragments shall pass for history, let the poor man's box be entitled
the Exchequer, and the alms-basket a Magazine. Methinks the Turke
should license Diurnals, because he prohibits learning and books." He
characterises the Diurnal as "a puny chronicle, scarce pin-feathered
with the wings of time; it is a history in sippets; the English Iliads
in a nutshell; the Apocryphal Parliament's Book of Maccabees in single
sheets."
But Cleveland tells us that these Diurnals differ from a _Mercurius
Aulicus_ (the paper of his party),--"as the Devil and his Exorcist, or
as a black witch doth from a white one, whose office is to unravel her
enchantments."
The _Mercurius Aulicus_ was chiefly conducted by Sir JOHN BIRKENHEAD,
at Oxford, "communicating the intelligence and affairs of the court to
the rest of the kingdom." Sir John was a great wag, and excelled in
sarcasm and invective; his facility is equal to repartee, and his
spirit often reaches to wit: a great forger of tales, who probably
considered that a romance was a better thing than a newspaper.[330]
The royal party were so delighted with his witty buffoonery, that Sir
John was recommended to be Professor of Moral Philosophy at Oxford.
Did political lying seem to be a kind of moral philosophy to the
feelings of a party? The originality of Birkenhead's happy manner
consists in his adroit use of sarcasm: he strikes it off by means of a
parenthesis. I shall give, as a specimen, one of his summaries of what
the _Parliamentary Journals_ had been detailing during the week.
"The Londoners in print this week have been pretty copious. They say
that _a troop of the Marquess of Newcastle's horse have submitted to
the Lord Fairfax_. (They were part of the _German_ horse which came
over in the _Danish_ fleet.)[331] That the Lord _Wilmot hath been dead
five weeks, but the Cavaliers concealed his death_. (Remember this!)
That _Sir John Urrey[332] is dead and buried at Oxford_. (He died the
same day with the Lord Wilmot.) That the _Cavaliers, before they have
done, will HURREY all men into misery_. (This quibble hath been six
times printed, and nobody would take notice of it; now let's hear of
it no more!) That _all the Cavaliers which Sir William Waller took
prisoners (besides 500) tooke the National Covenant_. (Yes, all he
took (besides 500) tooke the Covenant.) That 2000 _Irish Rebels landed
in Wales_. (You called them English Protestants till you cheated them
of their money.) That _Sir William Brereton left 140 good able men in
Hawarden Castle_. ('Tis the better for Sir Michael Earnley, who hath
taken the Castle.) That _the Queen hath a great deafnesse_. (Thou hast
a great blister on thy tongue.) That _the Cavaliers burned all the
suburbs of Chester, that Sir William Brereton might find no shelter to
besiedge it_. (There was no hayrick, and Sir William cares for no
other shelter.)[333] The SCOTTISH DOVE says (there are Doves in
Scotland!) that _Hawarden Castle had but forty men in it when the
Cavaliers took it_. (Another told you there were 140 lusty stout
fellows in it: for shame, gentlemen! conferre Notes!) That _Colonel
Norton at Rumsey took 200 prisoners_. (I saw them counted: they were
just two millions.) Then the _Dove_ hath this sweet passage: _O
Aulicus, thou profane wretch, that darest scandalize GOD'S saints,
darest thou call that loyal subject Master Pym a traitor_? (Yes,
pretty _Pigeon_,[334] he was charged with six articles by his
Majesty's Atturney Generall.) Next he says, that _Master Pym died like
Moses upon the Mount_. (He did not die upon the mount, but should have
done.) Then he says _Master Pym died in a good old age, like Jacob in
Egypt_. (Not like Jacob, yet just as those died in Egypt in the days
of Pharaoh.")[335]
As Sir John was frequently the propagator of false intelligence, it
was necessary at times to seem scrupulous, and to correct some slight
errors. He does this very adroitly, without diminishing his
invectives.
"We must correct a mistake or two in our two last weeks. We advertised
you of certain money speeches made by Master _John_ Sedgwick: on
better information, it was not _John_, but _Obadiah_, Presbyter of
Bread-street, who in the pulpit in hot weather used to unbutton his
doublet, which John, who wanteth a thumbe, forbears to practise. And
when we told you last week of a committee of _Lawyers_ appointed to
put their new _Seale_ in execution, we named, among others, Master
George Peard.[336] I confess this was no small errour to reckon
Master Peard among the _Lawyers_, because he now lies sicke, and so
farre from being their new _Lord Keeper_, that he now despairs to
become their _Door Keeper_, which office he performed heretofore. But
since Master Peard has become desperately sick; and so his vote, his
law, and haire have all forsook him, his corporation of Barnstable
have been in perfect health and loyalty. The town of Barnstable having
submitted to the King, this will no doubt be a special cordial for
their languishing Burgess. And yet the man may grow hearty again when
he hears of the late defeat given to his Majesty's forces in
Lincolnshire."
This paper was immediately answered by MARCHMONT NEEDHAM, in his
"Mercurius Britannicus," who cannot boast the playful and sarcastic
bitterness of Sir John; yet is not the dullest of his tribe. He opens
his reply thus:
"Aulicus will needs venture his soule upon the other _half-sheet_; and
this week he _lies_, as completely as ever he did in _two full
sheets_; full of as many scandals and fictions, full of as much
stupidity and ignorance, full of as many tedious untruths as ever. And
because he would _recrute_ the reputation of his wit, he falls into
the company of our _Diurnals_ very furiously, and there lays about him
in the midst of our weekly pamphlets; and he casts in the few squibs,
and the little wildfire he hath, dashing out his conceits; and he
takes it ill that the poore scribblers should tell a story for their
living; and after a whole week spent at Oxford, in inke and paper, to
as little purpose as _Maurice_ spent his shot and powder at
_Plimouth_, he gets up, about Saturday, into a jingle or two, for he
cannot reach to a full jest; and I am informed that the three-quarter
conceits in the last leafe of his Diurnall cost him fourteen pence in
_aqua vitae_."
Sir John never condescends formally to reply to Needham, for which he
gives this singular reason:--"As for this libeller, we are still
resolved to take no notice till we find him able to spell his own
name, which to this hour BRITANNICUS never did."
In the next number of Needham, who had always written it _Brittanicus_,
the correction was silently adopted. There was no crying down the
etymology of an Oxford malignant.
I give a short narrative of the political temper of the times, in
their unparalleled gazettes.
At the first breaking out of the parliament's separation from the
royal party, when the public mind, full of consternation in that
new anarchy, shook with the infirmity of childish terrors, the
most extravagant reports were as eagerly caught up as the most
probable, and served much better the purposes of their inventors.
They had daily discoveries of new conspiracies, which appeared in a
pretended correspondence written from Spain, France, Italy, or
Denmark: they had their amusing literature, mixed with their grave
politics; and a dialogue between "a Dutch mariner and an English
ostler," could alarm the nation as much as the last letter from
their "private correspondent." That the wildest rumours were
acceptable appears from their contemporary Fuller. Armies were
talked of, concealed under ground by the king, to cut the throats of
all the Protestants in a night. He assures us that one of the most
prevailing dangers among the Londoners was "a design laid for a mine
of powder under the Thames, to cause the river to drown the city."
This desperate expedient, it seems, was discovered just in time to
prevent its execution; and the people were devout enough to have a
public thanksgiving, and watched with a little more care that the
Thames might not be blown up. However, the plot was really not so
much at the bottom of the Thames as at the bottom of their purses.
Whenever they wanted 100,000_l._ they raised a plot, they terrified
the people, they appointed a thanksgiving-day, and while their
ministers addressed to God himself all the news of the week, and
even reproached him for the rumours against their cause, all ended,
as is usual at such times, with the gulled multitude contributing
more heavily to the adventurers who ruled them than the legal
authorities had exacted in their greatest wants. "The Diurnals" had
propagated thirty-nine of these "Treasons, or new Taxes," according
to one of the members of the House of Commons, who had watched their
patriotic designs.
These "Diurnals" sometimes used such language as the following, from
_The Weekly Accompt_, January, 1643:--
"This day afforded no newes at all, but onely what was _heavenly_ and
_spiritual_;" and he gives an account of the public fast, and of the
grave divine Master Henderson's sermon, with his texts in the morning;
and in the afternoon, another of Master Strickland, with his
texts--and of their spiritual effect over the whole parliament![337]