1 - Monash University Research Repository

MONASH UNIVERSITY
THESIS ACCEPTED IN SATISFACTION OF THE
REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF
DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY
2003
raduate* School Committee
(
j
Under the copyright Act 1968, this thesis must be used only under the
normal conditions of scholarly fair dealing for the purposes of
research, criticism or review. In particular no results or conclusions
should be extracted from it, nor should it be copied or closely
paraphrased in whole or in part without the written consent of the
author. Proper written acknowledgement should be made for any
assistance obtained from this thesis.
Errata
i
p. 4,1. 28 - for 'Euripedes', read 'Euripides'
p. 56, n. 2 - for 'Dionysus', read 'Dionysius'
p. 74,1. 22 - for 'her', read 'an'
p. 74, n. 61 - delete 'her'
p. 77, n. 76 - for 'Bavarian', read 'Batavian'
p. 77, n. 77 - for 'sobri', read 'sobria'
p. 91,1. 5 - for 'Clare Hall', read 'Trinity College'
p. 142,1. 1 4 - for 'ideosyncracies', read 'idiosyncracies'
p. 145, n. 37 - for 'ominibus', read 'omnibus'
p. 146,1. 22 - for 'in other in', read 'in other'
p. 150, n. 6 0 - for 'specillij', read 'specillis'
p. 151, n. 66 - for 'excercitium', read 'exercitium'
p. 151, n. 68 - for 'vicarius', read 'vicarium'
p. 158,1. 21 - for 'beggers', read 'beggars'
p. 158, n. 97 - for 'Aetus', read 'Aetas'
p. 162, n. 116 - for 'Johfnensis]', read 'Johfannensis]*
p. 164, n. 120 - for 'consquens', read 'consequens'
p. 184, n. 68 - add 'A different transcriber has 'limned' for 'limb'd' (Duke
University MS 12-14-71, p. 77.'
p. 165,1. 20 - for 'dissention', read 'dissension'
Frontispiece from Nicholas Amhurst's Terrae-filius; or, the Secret History of the
University of Oxford; in Several Essays 2nd edn. (London, 1726).
Reprinted with kind permission of Richard Overell, Rare Books Curator,
Monash University Library, Melbourne, Austialia.
Erudite Satire
in
Seventeenth-century England
by Felicity Henderson
A thesis submitted in fulfilment of the requirements
for the degree of Doctor of PhilosophyEnglish Section
School of Literary, Visual and Performance Studies
Monash University
Melbourne, Australia
September, 2002
I
Ill
Table of Contents
if
Is
II
Abstract
IV
Declaration
v
Acknowledgements
vi
Illustrations and Abbreviations
vii
Introduction
IX
1. Satire in early-modem English society
1
2. The institutional context of early-modern erudite satire
27
3. Satire and the erudite persona
55
4. Satire and early-modern erudite institutions
91
5. Disorderly disputants: the terrae filius, praevaricator and tripos
137
6. Lascivious lecturers: music speeches at Oxford
168
7. Satires against erudition
190
Conclusion
236
Appendix: Ludic university speeches
239
Bibliography
247
IV
Abstract
This thesis investigates satires produced by erudite individuals in seventeenthcentury England. Through a detailed study of the texts and contexts of these satires,
I demonstrate their social function in early-modem erudite communities.
Erudite satirists were influenced by various satiric forms, including both
classical and native English models. Chapter one identifies these models, and gives a
brief overview of satire in the Renaissance and seventeenth century. Taking
Dryden's Discourse concerning the Original and Progress of Satire (London, 1693)
as a starting point, I investigate early-modern readers' and writers' views on satire's
nature and function, and show how erudite satirists drew on these ideas in their own
work.
Much early-modem satire \v> s written in response to a specific occasion or
event. Chapter two contextualises the production of erudite satire by discussing
conditions at the early-modem English universities. I argue that life and study at
Oxford and Cambridge in the seventeenth century fostered in scholars a tendency
towards argument, didacticism and performance. These factors influence the
production of satire by university men.
Chapter three discusses the significance of the persona in satire, and
specifically in erudite satire. By creating personae, erudite satirists were able to
reinvent themselves and their fellow eruditi. To demonstrate this, I discuss a series
of poems describing journeys made by scholars through the English countryside.
This form, of which the most popular example was Richard Corbett's 'Iter Boreale',
highlights the interactions between scholars and countrypeople and demonstrates
some of the scholars' core beliefs about themselves and their society.
Drawing on Pierre Bourdieu's theories of social interaction, chapter four
investigates relationships between the universities and other cultural institutions in
early-modem England. On his visit to Cambridge in 1615, James I was entertained
by the scholars with a comedy, Ignoramus, that attacked common lawyers. Though
the play pleased the king, it angered the lawyers, who responded with satiric attacks
of their own. This occasion demonstrates some of the ways in which satires were
used in the con* ant manoeuvring for power between the universities, Inns of Court,
Royal Court, and town coiporations of Oxford and Cambridge.
Chapters five and six discuss the performances of humorous orations that
took place at commencement ceremonies at early-modem Oxford and Cambridge.
While officially sanctioned, these speeches often contained satirical attacks on
powerful university men, including the vice-chancellor and heads of houses. Chapter
five argues that rather than being straightforward attacks, these speeches
demonstrated to university men and visitors the types of power structures in place at
the universities. Chapter six discusses satirical attacks on women, and through close
analysis of the texts argues that their attempts to denigrate women actually reveal
scholarly anxieties about feminine power.
The final chapter discusses the satirical attacks on eruditi at the end of the
century. The experimental philosophy of the new Royal Society and the new
philology of Richard Bentley seemed to threaten established religion and learning,
and practitioners were attacked by men who were themselves writing in an erudite
tradition.
Declaration
I declare that this thesis contains no material which has been accepted for the award
of any other degree or diploma in any university and that, to the best of my
knowledge, the thesis contains no material previously published by another person,
except where due reference is made in the text of the thesis.
FELICITY HENDERSON
A
Vll
VI
Abbreviations
Acknowledgements
Tliroughout the preparation of this thesis I have received encouragement and support
from many people, and I am grateful to them all. My biggest debt is to my
supervisor at Monash, Professor Harold Love, who possesses vast erudition, a range
of research interests and a splendid sense of humour. Without his enthusiasm and
generous advice this thesis would not have been written; his attempts to purge my
prose of dullness have been much appreciated, if not entirely successful. I am
extremely grateful to Gavin Betts for his tireless assistance with Latin translations,
especially since the subject matter was generally far beneath his notice.
At Moaash, I have been very grateful for support and comments or discussion
on my work from Clive Probyn, Chris Worth and Peter Groves. I have also received
vital travel grants or other funding from the Monash Research Graduate School, and
the School of Literary, Visual and Performance Studies, which has enabled me to
undertake a wider-ranging study than I could otherwise have completed. I owe many
thanks to the staff at the Rare Books Room in the Monash University Library, and in
particular the Curator, Richard Overell. The collection is particularly strong in
seventeenth-century early editions, and I have been extremely lucky to have such
easy access to important literary and historical texts.
I have also received assistance in the form of advice and editorial suggestions
(and the occasional free lunch) from several academics outside Australia. Mordechai
Feingold has read and commented on an earlier version of chapter two, and has seen
material from chapter five which was published as an article in Histoiy of
Universities under his editorship. Sarah Knight has read chapter three, and John
Hale has read chapters five and six. Kristine Haugen added a manuscript to the list
in my Appendix of university speeches. Elisabeth Leedham-Green kindly drew an
unpublished Cambridge PhD thesis to my attention.
Librarians at the following institutions have been very kind in allowing me to
consult their manuscript collections: Beinecke Library; Bodleian Library; British
Library; Cambridge University Library; Folger Shakespeare Library; Gonville and
Caius College Library, Cambridge; Houghton Library; Huntington Library; Leeds
University Library; Nottingham University Library; National Library of Scotland;
Queen's College Library, Oxford. In particular I would like to thank Heather Wolfe
at the Folger and Steven Tomlinson at the Bodleian for assisting me with manuscript
enquiries, and Neil Boness at the University of Sydney Library for a reference to an
early printed work.
The final stages of thesis preparation were ably supported by Ada Cheung
and Daniel Wilksch, both of whom read and commented on the thesis in draft form.
I am extremely grateful to both for their diligence in suggesting changes and pointing
out typographical and spelling errors (any remaining are my own!).
Finally, I would like to thank my family and friends for their muchappreciated support, and in particular my parents for their constant love.
Cram Crum, Margaret, ed. First-line Index of English Poetiy 1500-1800 in
Manuscripts of the Bodleian Library Oxford, 2 vols. (Oxford, 1969)
Madan
Madan, Falconer. Oxford Books. A Bibliography of Printed Works
Relating to the University and City of Oxford, or Printed or Published
There, 3 vols. (Oxford, 1895-1931)
Tilley Tilley, Morris Palmer. A Dictionary; of the Proverbs in England in the
Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries (Ann Arbor, 1966)
1
A
IX
Introduction
Wher's faith? it's fled what soule then may we trust?
Not one. All-soules are false, All-soules uniust
And why? feare not say they we can dispense
\vlh faith friend, promise, soule & conscience.1
i
On April 4th, 1627, amid bitter controversy, Hugh Halswell of All Souls College and
Francis Hyde of Christ Church were elected senior and junior proctors of the
University of Oxford. The proctors were powerful university officials, whose duties
included keeping order in the schools, administering oaths, and supervising exercises
for degrees. Their jurisdiction extended into the town, where they patrolled the
streets at night, arresting noctivagators and prostitutes and hauling scholars out of
taverns. They sat on all the university boards and committees, were responsible for
calling meetings of Convocation, and even had the right to veto motions put forward
in that assembly. Proctorships were, therefore, coveted offices, elections to which
attracted a certain amount of political manoeuvring. Since the time of James I, 'he
that could give the greatest entertainment, was the Proctor against all the world',
complained Anthony Wood later in the century.2 Election-rigging, in the form of
bribsry or rounding up ineligible men to swell voting numbers, was common.3
However, the final outcome seems largely to have rested on the voting power of
certain inter-college alliances, known as 'the plot'. This was party politics on a small
but fiercely competitive stage, with the incumbents using their influence to bring in
successors chosen by themselves. At fr~ 1627 election, though, the plot was
overturned. Wood writes:
n
roctors, because the strong
plot for carrying on of it, was broken by the flying off of Ai
r.ils College. It was the
on the 4 of Apr was a great tumult in the Election u*
greater, because it gave way to Christ Church to have one, whw.
1
N
ad not had one since
'A Libeir, Bodleian Library MS Douce f. 5, f. 21 r (Crum W1777). Also in Yale University Osboni
MS b. 200, pp. 42-3.
2
Anthony Wood, The History and Antiquities of the University of Oxford ed. John Gutch, 2 vols.
(Oxford, 1796), vol. II, p. 292.
3
Wood claims that 'it was usual for the weaker side Jo call in strangers and non-residents (such that
had been formerly of the University) to give voices for them' (Ibid, vol. II, p. 360).
XI
1616, when they played foul play with those of Magdalen Collfege] and were thereupon
thrust out of the plot.4
In the eyes of many, Halswell and Hyde had gained office by devious and possibly
corrupt means. The libeller quoted above claimed bitterly 'Noe Proctorship is there
but bought or sold', and denounced both men and their colleges in unvarnished
terms.
While this may have been insulting to Hyde and Halswell, it was probably
not unexpected. There had been similar controversy over the proctorships in 1625
and 1626, with a similar response by university satirists. In 1625, Christ Church was
thwarted in its attempts to secure the election for its candidate Robert Payne.
According to one scholar's mocking commentary, the Christ Church campaign had
cost two hundred pounds, and was lost by thirty-two votes.5 He claimed the
'Counter-Plott', as he called it, was organised by Christ Church men in order to gain
them the proctorship so that 'they alone might rule > Roast / And beare downe all
before them' in 'prowd imperious Tiranny'. Christ Church's accomplices in this
attempt on the university's freedom were Queen's, Pembroke, and Lincoln colleges.
Among those who rushed to the counter-plot's defence was William Strode of Christ
Church, who, in a verse satire of his own, refuted the unknown libeller's claims and
mocked his weak attempts at poetry.6
More verses were exchanged in 1626, when Thomas Lushington of Pembroke
was overlooked in favour of Hopton Sydenham of Magdalen, and Dionysius
Prideaux of Exeter. This year, claimed one of their detractors, 'tliAntepIot came
short by fourscore voices', and consisted of
Newly borne Pembroke and the Northerne tykes,
Brazen=faced Brasenose Baliol the Scottish
Jesus the Welsh, part of St Johns the Sottish,
And ruined Christchurch . . . 7
This poet rubbed in the bitterness of defeat by recalling Payne's loss the previous
year. Another poem (presumably written in the same vein but now lost) elicited an
answer from Christ Church which began 'We are quite dead: see how ye Plot doth
laffe / And pens a Libell for or Epitaph'.8 A comically exaggerated response,
4
Ibid., vol. II, p. 359. Wood is unclear about the details of All Souls's 'flying off. Obviously, they
voted against the plot, but they may also have reneged on a promise not to stand a candidate.
5
'On ye Loss of C[hrist] Church Proctorship, when Mr. Payne stood', Bodleian Library MS Eng.
poet. e. 14, ff. 59r-60r (Crum W2362). Also in Yale University Osbom MS b. 200, pp. 43-5.
6
'An aunswere to a coppy of verses on ye striving of [Chrisjt Church &c', Yale University Osbom
MS b. 200, pp. 132-6 (Crum 1712).
7
Untitled poem beginning 'What is the newes? for thus we must begin', Bodleian Library MS Rawl.
D. 1048, f. 54r (Crum W541). The 'Northerne tykes' were Queen's College; Pembroke had been refounded in 1626 (previously Broadgates Hall).
8
'An answer to the Libeller in behalfe of Ch[rist] Chfurch] w" they canvast for a Procter', Bodleian
Library MS Eng. poet, e 97, pp. 62-3 (Crum W74). In the same MS is another short poem beginning
'When plotts are Proctors vertues and the gift' (p. 63; Crum W1397) deploring the plotters' strategies.
1
iff
perhaps - but, as we shall see, some libels were as durable as epitaphs when it came
to identifying their victims. At the early-modem universities, social death could be
as painful, and as permanent, as physical demise.
The point at which these controversies enter the standard histories of Oxford
is the implementation in 1629 of a formal proctorial cycle, according to which each
college had the right to elect a proctor in designated years.9 The social drama of
plots and counter-plots, colleges collaborating against common enemies, loyalties,
betrayals, accusations and counter-accusations which lay behind the creation of the
cycle is largely forgotten. However, its existence is revealed, partially, by verses
such as those mentioned above. These writers were not simply mocking fallen
opponents or venting their indignation at the way events had unfolded. They spoke
in a specific way to an audience of their peers, reminding them of what it meant to be
a Christ Church man with the weight of the college hierarchy and wealth behind him,
or how a Magdalen man should react to perceived false-dealing. The emphasis on
Christ Church's position as chief counter-plotter articulates an anxiety about the
college's influence over university elections. As the balance of power at Oxford
shifted in favour of one or another college, satirists drew attention to new alliances
and reminded their audience of longstanding grievances. Even minor taunts, such as
William Strode's claim that the Christ Church Mads' were true poets who scorned
their libellers' 'English riming Balladry', suggested a shared knowledge of what it
was to be a member of the university.
The part played by satirists in the long-running proctorial controversy was not
unique. In dozens of contemporary manuscripts, scholars have recorded satires,
squibs, libels, orations, lampoons, ballads and jokes written by themselves, their
friends, and their enemies in response to current crises or potentially amusing
situations. Much of this material was intended primarily for an audience of
university men, or a more limited circle within a university, and was published
scribally. In close-knit communities such as the universities, satires had the potential
to alter a person's (or a group's) social status. In such situations, satirical texts
become a useful indicator of some types of links between social life and literary
production. The subject of this study is satire produced and consumed in emdite
communities in seventeenth-century England. My primary question concerns the
Richard Corbett's editors print the latter among Corbett's dubia. Additional weight might be given to
this attribution by the fact that the poet complains about the outcome of the 1626 election, at which
Corbett's close friend Thomas Lushington was defeated (The Poems of Richard Corbett ed. J. A. W.
Bennett and H. R. Trevor-Roper (Oxford, 1955), pp. 100, 166-7).
9
Charles Edward Mallet outlined the events briefly, following Anthony Wood's account (A History of
the University of Oxford, 3 vols. (1924; repr. New York and London, 1968), vol. II, pp. 241-2);
Kenneth Fincham mentions the new proctorial cycle ('Oxford and the Early Stuart Polity' in The
History of the University of Oxford, Vol. IV: Seventeenth-century Oxford ed. Nicholas Tyacke
(Oxford, 1997), p. 199).
Xlll
Xll
function of satire within this particular environment. Why did erudite men choose to
write satires? What did they write about? What effects did they expect their satires
to have? How did their audiences react? As these questions might suggest, this
study rapidly moves beyond the texts themselves to the context in which they were
produced and consumed.
The erudite world
Much of the erudite satire produced in seventeenth-century England originated at the
universities of Oxford and Cambridge. These, together with the Inns of Court, were
the senior educational institutions of early-modem England, and as such were centres
of erudition. Erudition, in this sense, is defined in the Oxford English Dictionary as
'the state or condition of being trained or instructed', and 'Acquired knowledge, esp.
in languages, literature, antiquities, etc.; learning, scholarship'. The Latin root is
erudire - 'to polish, educate, instruct, teach', from e-mdis - 'free from roughness';
and hence eruditio - 'instruction' or 'learning', and eruditus - 'learned, accomplished, well-informed, skilled, experienced'.10 Samuel Johnson defined erudition as
'Learning; knowledge obtained by study and instruction'.11 He chose four examples
to illustrate his definition:
Fam'd be thy tutor, and thy parts of nature;
Thrice fam'd beyond all erudition.
Shakespeare.
The earl was of good erudition, having been placed at study in Cambridge very young.
Wotton.
To your experience in state affairs you have also joined no vulgar erudition, which all
your modesty is not able to conceal; for to understand critically the delicacies of
merely knowing these languages did not in itself constitute erudition. According to
Dryden, the erudite nobleman must be able 'to understand critically the delicacies of
Horace', rather than simply being able to read the Odes or Satires in their original
tongue.13 Erudition rests on a classical education that has a broader compass and
greater depth of insight than the mere acquisition of Latin, which boys began
learning at grammar school in the seventeenth century.14 Erasmus claimed that
Greek was equail to Latin in importance, and the younger Scaliger went further, being
of the opinion that 'not to know Greek, was to know nothing'.15 J- E- Sandys, in his
Histoiy of Classical Scholarship, discusses the large number of Continental and
British scholairs of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries who edited or translated
classical texts. The erudition of many of these men lay in their encyclopaedic
knowledge of classical authors and languages. In some, their devotion to study was
so strong that every other area of life was neglected.16 This depth of knowledge has
little in common with the 'polite' nee -classicism of the town and court. Although the
Augustan period in England saw an elite society which identified itself strongly with
the ethos of the Roman Augustans, this rested, in most instances, on the moderate
amount of Golden-Age Latin learning which the average nobleman's son could not
avoid attaining over the period of his education. The English were also influenced
by the French enthusiasm for classical literature, reading classical authors either in
French translations, or in English translations from the French.17
Most scholarship on early-modern erudite communities exists within
institutional histories (of the universities, individual colleges, or Inns of Court), and
biographies of famous scholars, or editions of their works. Works such as J. E.
Horace, is a height to which few of our noblemen have arrived. Dryden.
Some gentlemen, abounding in their university erudition, are apt to fill their sermons
with philosophical terms and notions, metaphysical.
Swift.
Wotton and Swift link erudition with a university education - Wotton in a positive
way, Swift disparagingly. Dryden highlights the distinction between 'experience',
and 'knowledge obtained by study and instruction'. The knowledge, experience and
polish which many seventeenth-century noblemen gained from lengthy tours of the
Continent, or from involvement in political and court life, was not erudition.
'Study and instruction' were necessary for erudition, and these were most
usually gained at institutions devoted to these pursuits - in England, the universities
and the Inns of Court. Study implies the use of texts, requiring the learned languages
Latin and Greek, and possibly Hebrew, Arabic, Persian or Syriac.12 However,
10
Latin definitions from Lewis and Short's Latin Dictionaiy (Oxford, 1879; repr. 1958).
Samuel Johnson, A Dictionary of the English Language (London, 1755; repr. 1979).
12
Mordechai Feingold has described seventeenth-century Oxford as 'a truly major centre for Hebrew
and Arabic' ('Oriental Studies' in History) of Oxford, Vol. IV, p. 449). At Westminster School under
11
Dr Busby, students as young as twelve or thirteen made compositions in Latin, Greek, Hebrew and
Araoic (John Evelyn, The Diary of John Evelyn ed. E. S. de Beer, 6 vols. (Oxford, 1955), vol. Ill, pp.
287-8).
l->
The recipient of Dryden's praise was Laurence Hyde, Earl of Rochester, in the dedication to
Cleomenes (1692).
14
See Rosemary O'Day, Education and Society 1500-1800 (London, 1982), and Kenneth Charlton,
Education in Renaissance England (London, 1965). John Brinsley's Ludus Litercirius: or, the
Grammar Schoole (London, 1612) relies heavily on Cicero, Ovid and Latin florilegia (such as
Sententiae Pueriles (London, 1612)) in the earlier years, and suggests Horace, Persius and Juvenal for
older boys (p. 121). Suitable Greek texts include the New Testament, Theognis, Hesiod, Homer,
Isocrates, Xenophon, Plato and Demosthenes (pp. 226, 240). Students of Hebrew were advised to use
the Old Testament.
15
J. E. Sandys, A Histoiy of Classical Scholarship, 3 vols. (Cambridge, 1903-1908; repr. New York,
1958), vol. II, p. 199.
16
Sandys called the French scholar Salmasius, who prepared his Defensio Regia Pro Carolo 1 at the
request of the exiled Charles II, 'a pedant destitute of either literary or political tact, and utterly
ignorant of public affairs' (lbid.,vo\. II, p. 286).
1
North's edition of Plutarch's Lives is one example. In the preface to All for Love, Dryden
sarcastically suggests gentlemen with a 'smattering of Latine' might be able to translate Juvenal with
the assistance of the 'French Version', referring to the French and Latin edition published by Michel
de Marolles in 1653 (The Works of John Diyden, Vol. Kill ed. Maximillian E. Novak (Berkeley,
1984), pp. 14, 18,410). The taunt is directed at Rochester's 'An allusion to Horace'.
XIV
Sandys's History of Classical Scholarship and David Douglas's English Scholars
present brief lives of the most eminent early-modern scholars, explaining their
contributions to their fields.18 Other scholars have discussed the textual products of
erudite communities. Christopher Wordsworth's Social Life at the English
Universities in the Eighteenth Century (Cambridge, 1874) uses contemporary
sources, including many examples of ephemera] literary productions, to give a vivid
(though disorganised) depiction of everyday life at the early-modem universities.
Much more recently, Anne Goldgar has made a detailed and lucid study of the way
community and status were imagined and conferred in the early-modem 'Republic of
Letters'.19 Focussed on the period from 1680 to 1750, her study concentrates on the
activities of Continental scholars rather than British; however, some important
parallels can be drawn between the social interaction in the communities she studies
and that of the early British universities. Examining the operations of the scholarly
community, rather than individual texts or scholars, Goldgar asks 'whether the
establishment of meaning was in fact the dominant motivation for members of the
Republic of Letters' in their epistolary and other exchanges.20 Her study finds other
motivations for textual production: as a strategy to gain entry to, or a higher status
within, the community; the desire to reinforce and perpetuate the community's social
structure; and an attempt to preserve a harmonious image for the benefit of outsiders.
Among those who have analysed the literary output of erudite or scholarly
communities, W. Scott Blanchard and Ingrid De Smet have both focussed on
Menippean satire as a favourite genre of scholars (though their conclusions differ
greatly). Blanchard loosely defines Menippean satire as 'satire of intellectuals or of
intellectual procedures', and explores ways in which Renaissance humanists used
Menippean satire to question received philosophies.21 De Smet sees the vogue for
Menippean satire among Renaissance humanists as motivated by classical influences." In a wider-ranging study, J. W. Binns presents an invaluable survey of neoLatin texts in early-modem England, which provides a useful background to the
intellectual culture of the period.23 David Money's study of Anthony Alsop's poetry
Sandys, History of Classical Scholarship; David C. Douglas, English Scholars (London 1939revised and reprinted as English Scholars 1660-1730 (London, 1951)). See also C. 0. Brink English
Classical Scholarship: Historical Reflections on Bentley, Porson and Housman (Cambridge, 1986).
Anne Goldgar, Impolite Learning: Conduct and Community in the Republic of Letters 1680-1750
(New Haven and London, 1995).
" Goldgar, Impolite Learning, p. 5.
-' W. Scott Blanchard, Scholars' Bedlam: Menippean Satire in the Renaissance (Lewisbure 1995)
p_p. 163, 43, etpassim.
Ingrid De Smet, Menippean Satire and the Republic of Letters 1581-1655 (Geneve, 1996), pp. 5568.
J. W. Binns, Intellectual Culture in Elizabethan and Jacobean England: the Latin Writings
of the
& J
Age (Leeds, 1990).
XV
situates an erudite writer within a scholarly community: this will also be the task of
the present study.24
Though not directly concerned with erudite institutions, sociologists and
anthropologists have advanced theories of social interaction which are useful for this
study. Pierre Bourdieu investigates the operations of modem scholarly communities
in Homo Academicus. His theories will be discussed further below, though many of
the conclusions he draws about modem French institutions in Homo Academicus do
not apply equally to early-modem English universities. Among other sociologists,
Richard Jenkins and Anthony Cohen give coherent and persuasive accounts of the
ways in which individual and community identities can be constructed.25 Stephen
Greenblatt argues that early-modems routinely used their literary productions as a
way of constructing the self.26 The studies of anthropologists such as Clifford Geertz
and Victor Turner suggest models of cultural participation for different societies
which can be applied to this study, with some reservations.27 The two theorists
whose works seem most relevant to a study of satire are Mikliail Bakhtin and Walter
J. Ong, who will be considered more fully below.
The function of satire: some theoretical models
Satire is notoriously difficult to pin down: it is almost obligatory for critics of satire
to preface any attempt at a definition with the statement that satire is a protean genre
which resists definition. Some critics deny satire a generic status at all, regarding it
instead as a transgeneric mode of writing.28 Brian A. Connery and Kirk Combe have
suggested that most satirists 'claim one purpose for satire, that of high-minded and
usually socially oriented moral and intellectual reform; however, they engage in
something quite different, namely, mercilessly savage attack on some person or thing
that, frequently for private reasons, displeases them'.29 The primary function of
24
D. K. Money, The English Horace: Anthony Alsop and the Tradition of British Latin Verse (Oxford,
1998).
25
Richard Jenkins, Social Identity (London and New York, 1996); A. P. Cohen, The Symbolic
Construction of Community (Chichester, 1985).
26
Stephen Greenblatt, Renaissance Self-Fashioning (Chicago and London, 1980), pp. 3ff.
Geertz's celebrated study of Balinese cockfighting, for example, may not appear to be immediately
applicable to early-modern eruditi, but there are similarities in the procedures of communal identitycreation through combat ('Deep Play: Notes on the Balinese Cockfight' in The Interpretation of
Cultures (New York, 1973; repr. London, 1993); see below, chapter five). Turner's studies of the role
of performance in communities are found in Drama?, Fields and Metaphors: Symbolic Action in
Human Society (Ithaca and London, 1974); The Anthropology of Performance (New York, 1986);
and, in particular, From Ritual to Theatre: the Human Seriousness of Play (New York, 1982). '
28
For the former position see, for example, George A. Test's introduction to Satire: Spirit and Art
(Tampa, 1991), p. 12. Gilbert Highet attempts to pin satire down with 'a number of reliable tests' for
possible generic identification (The Anatomy of Satire (Princeton, 1962), pp. 15ff). Northrop Frye has
claimed the word 'satire' means 'a structural principle or attitude' (Anatomy of Criticism (Princeton
1957), p. 310).
29
Theorizing Satire: Essays in Literary Criticism ed. Brian A. Connery and Kirk Combe ( N e w York,
xvn
XVI
Roman formal verse satire has often been seen as social correction. This is the root
of its didacticism - it provides a form of moral instruction, sometimes lightened by
humour, often supported by a particular philosophical system. However, other
theories of satire suggest other possibilities.
Following Kirk Combe, I will employ Edward Rosenheim, Jr.'s definition of
satire as 'attack by means of a manifest fiction upon discernible historical
particulars'.30 However, I am also including under the umbrella term of satire
various other semi-satirical forms, such as complaint, libel, and lampoon. I do this
because the boundaries between genres were always fluid; also, more importantly,
because making an exclusive generic definition would often be ahistorical. As we
shall see in the following chapter, early-modem writers were as hazy as
contemporary critics about the nature of 'satyr', and used the word to describe all
kinds of texts which attacked people or things. The following chapter investigates in
more detail some of the forms and functions ascribed to satire by early-modern
writers. However, there are two contemporary theoretical models for the function of
satire which are relevant to this study.
In his book Fighting for Life, Walter J. Ong suggests that 'contest', especially
contest over territory, is a biological imperative for males of almost every species.
However, this territorial conflict can be, and often is, highly ritualised, involving
little or no physical harm to the losing party. In many cultures, ritual conflict is
conducted through the medium of language. In situations which have been
documented in many different societies by anthropologists, (usually) male aggression
is channelled into verbal contests in which the winner is decided by the vigour and
wit of his insults.31 Ong also suggests that, at least in the West, the 'deliberate
cultivation of the adversative lies at the deepest roots of intellectual development'.32
Throughout history, formal argument has been used not only as a teaching aid, but
also as a means of advancing theories. And as Ong points out, 'the academic world .
. . has in the past been conspicuously dominated by agonistic activity and
structures'.33 Patterns of conflict can be seen not only in early-modern academic
exercises, which were oral and centred on disputations, but in much of the academic
1995), p. 2.
Kirk Combe, 'The New Voice of Political Dissent: the Transition from Complaint to Satire' in
Theorizing Satire, p. 75.
These contests have been seen as a primitive form of satire by various commentators. See, for
example, Test, Satire: Spirit and Art, p. 69 ff.; Robert C. Elliott, The Power of Satire: Magic, Ritual,
Art (Princeton, 1960), pp. 73 ff. et passim; and Alvin Kernan, 'Aggression and Satire: Art Considered
as a Form of Biological Adaptation' in Literary Theory and Structure ed. Frank Brady et al. (New
Haven and London, 1973), pp. 115-129. Laura Gowing gives some female examples in Domestic
Dangers: Women, Words and Sex in Early Modem London (Oxford, 1996).
32
J
- Walter J. Ong, Fighting for Life: Contest, Sexuality, and Consciousness (Ithaca, 1981), p. 20
33
Ibid., p. 2 9 .
j0
lifestyle. The universities had an almost exclusively male population, divided into
college groups and largely segregated from society. Ong goes so far as to compare
the university experience, with its adversative teaching methods and physical
privations, to a 'present-day survival course', and claims that it resulted in the same
male bonding pattern.34 In the following discussion, I will consider the extent to
which satirical attacks operate as a form of ritualised conflict within, and between,
erudite institutions. Using this model, satire becomes a way of exerting personal or
communal power, policing boundaries between social groups, and maintaining the
existing social order.
Mikhail Bakhtin's discussion of folk celebrations during Carnival provides us
with another model for the function of satire. As Bakhtin explains in the introduction
to Rabelais and His World, medieval carnival time instituted a 'second world',
completely distinct from and opposing the conventions of the normal world. During
carnival, the people were no longer subject to the usual hierarchical order of
precedence, and members of different social groups conversed freely, and often
licentiously, with each other. Institutions powerful in the official world, such as the
church, were mocked and their rituals parodied. Bakhtin identifies three forms of
folk carnival culture: 'Ritual spectacles', 'Comic verbal compositions', and various
types of invective, such as curses and oaths.35 Under the category of comic verbal
compositions he includes 'parodies both oral and written, in Latin and in the
vernacular'. Laughter is one of the most important aspects of carnival time, and
Bakhtin invests laughter with enormous power to erode social boundaries and
overturn the established order. Comic carnival parodies of scholarly treatises and
sacred texts were often written in Latin by learned monks or schoolmen, and
'brought the echoes of carnival laughter within the walls of monasteries, universities,
and schools' (p. 14). The speech typical of carnival, according to Bakhtin, is the
familiar speech of the marketplace, which also stems from the suspension of normal
social divisions. Characterising this pattern of speech is the use of 'abusive
language, insulting words or expressions', language which mocks those addressed,
but at the same time expresses familiarity and affection.
Although the pre-Lenten carnival did not survive unchanged into
seventeenth-century Britain, there were certain times when carnival licence was
permitted by deeply entrenched custom. On Ash Wednesdays at Cambridge a mockchancellor, proctors and bedells were elected from the university population, until
this was stopped by statute in the sixteenth century.36 The rules were relaxed at
34
Ibid., p. 132. Early-modern university life will be discussed at length in chapter two, below.
Mikhail Bakhtin, Rabelais and his World trans. Helene Iswolsky (Bloomington, 1984), p. 5.
36
Daniian Riehl Leader, A History of the University of Cambridge, Vol. I: The University to 1546
(Cambridge, 1988), p. 77; Charles Henry Cooper, Annals of Cambridge, 5 vols. (Cambridge, 1842-
35
I
XIX
xvm
Christmas to allow fires in the college halls, card-playing and theatricals. A certain
amount of disorder was also allowed by university authorities during the celebrations
in July which marked the end of the scholastic year, and there is evidence to suggest
that the festivities were sometimes very wild. It was traditional at this time for the
scholars to produce parodies of disputations, and other satirical or comic orations,
which were read to the assembled students and visitors who had come to see the fun.
As a type of satire written in the carnival spirit, these speeches celebrate the
overturning of official order, and the opportunity to speak freely and mockingly to all
members of the society. Bakhtin makes a distinction between carnival mockery and
satire, because, he says, no-one is outside the carnival world.37 Unlike satire, in
which the satirist preserves a distance between himself and his target, carnival does
not allow anyone to stand apart. The carnival joker mocks everyone, including
himself.
Carnival as a model for satire need not be seen strictly in Bakhtin's terms.
Satire which causes the erosion of institutional and social boundaries, even when it is
not a direct product of the carnival spirit, can nevertheless have similar effects.
Satire in which the satirist is no longer strongly identified with any of the positions
he attacks or defends, but instead maintains an ambiguous stance, has something of
the carnival about it. Rather than upholding the moral order, or institutional
authority, the satirist in this case may subvert them by refusing to endorse them with
the full weight of his persona. Satire has traditionally (though questionably) been
associated with the Roman Saturnalia, a carnivalesque festival during which social
boundaries were transgressed. In one of his satires, Horace has his slave, acting
under Saturnalian license, accuse him of being inconsistent.38 Horace's satiric
persona is undermined by the questioning of his moral authority - a suitably
carnivalesque gesture.
Few of the satires in the following study can be explained fully by referring
to any one of these models. Many of them seem most usefully interpreted as
ritualised attacks on enemies, directed at the reinforcement of social boundaries.
However, there is often a suggestion that attacks had become so ritualised that they
could more properly be seen as games, played with the willing collaboration of both
'sides', and watched by knowing onlookers on the sideline '
Some methodological statements
The method I have developed as an investigative tool for this thesis is similar to that
outlined by Robert Hume in Reconstructing Contexts: the Aims and Principles of
Archaeo-Historicism (Oxford, 1999). Hume argues entertainingly and forcefully for
the validity of historicism in the study of literary texts. His version, 'archaeohistoricism', involves 'both the reconstruction of context and the interpretation of
texts within the context thus assembled' (p. 26). He emphasises the importance of
documentary evidence in the reconstruction of contexts (while recognising that all
documentary evidence is itself subjective, to a greater or lesser extent). While
stressing that 'context does not determine meaning' (original emphasis), he is
confident that it can 'help us judge possible meanings for various interpreters' (p.
36).
Hume's interest in context seems to me to be eminently reasonable, especially
for the kind of study I have undertaken. Kirk Combe, using Stephen Greenblatt's
phrase, describes individual satires as 'localized strategies in particular historical
encounters'. He goes on to argue:
while certain theoretical generalizations indeed may be useful to a discussion of a given
satire, the real work involved in satiric analysis is that of a case-by-case cultural study
of the poem. Perhaps no other genre calls out more emphatically for cultural criticism.40
Study of satire entails study of the communities in which it is produced and
consumed, for at least three reasons:
i. even at its most libellous and destructive, satire remains a didactic genre;
ii. satire reflects, or pretends to reflect, the conditions and inhabitants of its
contemporary society; and
iii. the satiric voice is strident and urgent, speaking directly to its audience.
These elements may be stronger or weaker in particular satires or satirists: in the
groups of satires I have chosen to investigate, they are strong.41
Like the libels in which Oxford men responded to the proctorial elections,
many of the satires discussed here are decidedly occasional. By this, I mean that the
texts were composed on or for a specific occasion, suggested by actual events or
directed towards actual people. Their authors intended them to be read, in the first
instance, by people who participated in, or at least understood the nature of, the
occasions which prompted them.42 I am not suggesting that the authors' intentions
40
Combe, 'The N e w Voice of Political Dissent', pp. 73-4.
Even strongly ironic satire, such as Swift's Modest Proposal, reflects its cultural context, though it
relies on its audience to recognise that the real world is being depicted in an ironically distorted
fashion.
42
While it is impossible to be entirely sure about authorial intentions, nevertheless there are certain
indicators which suggest an author has a particular primary audience in mind. These include prefatory
matter which dedicates texts to individuals, publication in a university-sponsored book of verse or
performance at a university occasion, addresses to individuals within the text, subject matter which
41
1908), vol. I, p. 110.
Bakhtin, Rabelais and his World, p. 12.
38
" Horace, Satires, Il.vii, 11. 22ff.
39
Test sees 'play' as one of the four elements common to all satire (Satire: Spirit and Art, pp. 15 ff).
37
XXI
XX
should necessarily direct our own readings of these texts (and I occasionally read
them in ways the authors probably did not intend) ! ,: •, however, suggest that it
would be foolish to ignore them. A reading which takes into account a reference to a
particular vice-chancellor of Oxford, for example, may be more enlightening (and
amusing) than one which assumes the reference to be universally applicable to any
authority figure. The knowledge that a satire was written in response to the events of
one specific day in the lives of one or more actual people does not necessarily rule
out its later application to quite different events or people, but it does provide us with
some information about how the satire was likely to have been read by its primary
audience. Since this study is concerned with the effects texts had among a particular
community, reception by a primary audience is an important factor.
Hume emphasises the ways in which knowledge of contemporary reader
responses can assist in constructing the context of literary works. This is another
particularly pertinent question for this study, as documented reader response gives us
our clearest idea of the function of these satires. Hume warns that where evidence of
reception is lacking, scholars must be wary of making generalisations. He suggests
that at best, we can identify characteristics of different audiences or audience
groups.43 I must admit here that most of my texts lack substantial (or even partial)
contemporary comment on reception. However, given that I focus on a particular
audience-group, the universities, I believe I have enough evidence to distinguish
differing types of responses within this group. It seems probable that there were as
many individual responses as there were individuals who read or heard these texts,
but their context means that authors could draw on common experiences and expect
at least some kind of common response (otherwise the satires could not be said to
have a function at all, as satires).
Hume also suggests that 'A good reason for moving from text to context (not
merely vice versa) is that texts affect context as well as emerging from it. Each new
text becomes part of its context, and changes it' (original emphasis).44 I agree, and I
would argue that this is particularly true for the satires I discuss below. Satires
produced and consumed within fairly circumscribed environments such as the
universities tended to have a more immediate effect on their surroundings than those
distributed to a wider, more heterogenous audience. In most cases, university
satirists writing for their peers were not seriously attempting to change the status
quo. Their satires often added to ongoing debate on a topic, which was made
involves topical or esoteric knowledge, and scribal publication within a particular circle of
acquaintances.
43
Robert Hume, Reconstructing Contexts: the Aims and Principles of Archaeo-historicism (Oxford
1999), pp. 75-84.
"ibid.,p. 36.
obvious to readers by various rhetorical strategies. Once written and circulated, new
texts of this kind were swiftly incorporated into the debate by being answered in their
turn. Each new satire changed, to a greater or lesser degree, the course of the
argument, and often prompted a rebuttal. Text quickly became context.
Other kinds of satire were directed at those outside the community. Some of
these were probably not answered, as their targets were not among their primary
audience. Others led to exchanges of verse between rival institutions. In both cases,
the satires reaffirmed to members of the community their status as insiders. They
can be seen as strategies by which the community policed its boundaries, warning off
those who attempted to gain entry without the proper qualifications. These satires
(and of course other texts could be put to this use as well) reminded members of the
community of their particular role in society, and the nature of their social
organisation, as well as building a sense of belonging to the group. These texts were
produced because the community wanted to create its own identity, and served to
remind their audiences of their identities as insiders or outsiders. Within the
community, by contrast, satire could be very effective at controlling members who
were seen to disturb the social order or behave in a way which put them at odds with
their fellows. The same social forces which kept the community together also
wanted to see deviance punished.
To understand more fully (or at least to clarify) the interaction between text
and context, I turn to Pierre Bourdieu's sociological theories of 'cultural capital', and
'fields' in which individuals operate. David Swartz explains fields in terms of
'arenas of production, circulation, and appropriation of goods, services, knowledge,
or status, and the competitive positions held by actors in their struggle to accumulate
and monopolize these different kinds of capital'.45 A field could consist of an
institution, for example a university, but it could also be a social grouping without
solid boundaries, such as 'intellectuals'. The concept of the field emphasises
relational thinking, and 'calls attention to the social conditions of struggle that shape
cultural production'.46 This seems useful for an analysis of satire because it enables
a consideration of the many factors influencing the production and consumption of
the text, including author, differing audiences, and social, cultural and economic
structures. It is particularly useful for my analysis because Bourdieu bases his theory
on the neo-Hobbesean idea that individuals are constantly engaged in a struggle for
power.47 Power can be seen as different forms of 'capital', which Bourdieu
characterises as economic, cultural, social, and symbolic. Individuals and groups use
45
David Swartz, Culture and power: the Sociology of Pierre Bourdieu (Chicago, 1997), p. 117.
Ibid.,-p. 119.
I do not, however, agree with Bourdieu that all social practices are ultimately economic, and aimed
at profit.
Ab
xxin
XXU
If I
I
IN,
strategies to accumulate, invest and convert capital to enhance their social positions.
Erudite writers have cultural capital, in the form of their learning, which they can use
in cultural productions, such as scholarly editions, which they can then exchange for
economic capital (that is, money). However, they can also use th'T/ cultural
productions to gain social capital, in the form of acquaintances and soci^ networks,
or by dedicating their work to powerful patrons. Obviously, satire is a more direct
strategy. It can be seen as an attempt to preserve dominant and subordinate positions
in a particular field, or to undermine an opponent's social position by denying the
legitimacy of their capital. In the intellectual field, Bourdieu emphasises the struggle
for individuals to be defined as intellectuals, and to distinguish thei.reives from
other intellectuals.48 Satire, in its concern with constructing a distinctive persona for
the author, can be said to participate in this struggle for identity and recognition. As
an inherently divisive genre it lends itself to the creation of boundaries.
The stiitcture of this study
I have divided the following discussion into two sections. The first section attempts
to construct a context (or contexts) for erudite satires in seventeenth-century
England. Chapter one gives a brief overview of satire in early-modern England, in
which I consider the ways seventeenth-century readers and writers might have
thought about the form and function of satire. By describing a wide range of satirical
modes, including popular types as well as those which draw on a classical mode] I
indicate the range of traditions influencing early-modern satirists. The second
chapter moves from literary, or generic, to social contexts, and describes conditions
at the early-modern English universities. I cannot claim to have reconstructed
anything approaching a complete picture of seventeenth-century university life,
which would be a lengthy work in itself and would still suffer the inevitable lacunae
and subjective assessments of a twenty-first century viewpoint. Instead, since the
aim of my chapter is to explicate certain aspects of certain texts, I have emphasised
some aspects of university life, such as its academically competitive nature, and
virtually ignored others, such as political and religious divisions. I have tried to base
most of my arguments on early sources, and to exercise a proper degree of caution
over sources with obvious social or cultural agendas. Autobiographical recollections
present difficulties in that they are often written decades after the events discussed.
Contemporary letters and diaries must be treated as the impressions of the author
alone, and not as a standard response or point of view. The case of Anthony Wood,
the great Oxford antiquarian, is indicative. Wood's major works, the Athenae
Oxonienses and the History and Antiquities of the University of Oxford, record
48
Swartz, Culture and Power, p. 221.
biographical and historical information unavailable elsewhere. Wood, however, is
notoriously subjective and many of his biographical summaries are coloured by his
own prejudices.49 His collections, including diary material and other notes, which
have been edited by Andrew Clark and published as The Life and Times ofAnth ny
Wood, represent a vast resource of ephemeral information about Oxford life and the
lives and deaths of its inhabitants; but, again, Wood's increasingly acerbic nature
must be taken into account when making arguments based on his reports.
I have
used Wood's notes extensively, but, I hope, not blindly.
The second section of the study discusses a range of aspects of early-modern
erudite satire. In chapter three I will look at the ways in which erudite writers
construct a satiric persona, which is integral to their position as erudite writers. What
kinds of personae are favoured by erudite writers, and how do they go about
constructing them? How do these personae interact with their erudite audience?
What do they reveal about the satirists who create them? I illustrate these questions
by discussing a set of poems, written in Latin and English, which are satirical
accounts of journeys undertaken by their erudite authors. The motif of the journey
was popular, and men using it recognised that they were writing within a tradition
which sharply articulated the difference between tniwller/satirist and his
surroundings. This focus on personal identity and interaction with others meant that
satirists paid particular attention to the construction of their satirical persnri&e, in
order to distinguish themselves from their targets.
Chapter four deals with the way satirists construct and influence relationships
between different erudite institutions in early modem England. In this chapter I
concentrate on the earlier part of the seventeenth century, and discuss satires which
deal with (and are instruments of) conflict between the two universities, the Inns of
Court, and the royal court. In particular, I concentrate on a series of satires which
were written in response to a specific oc&jsiujn, the visit of King James I to
Cambridge in 1615, and the performssnite during this visit of the Latin play
Ignoramus. The way in which these satires respond to the occasion, and to the
responses of writers from other institutions, elucidates several aspects of the struggle
for power between these cultural institutions in Jacobean England.
Chapters five and six deal with satire which was produced within the
universities, and was concerned with coRStnicting an institutional identity.
Specifically, I look at the types of satire produced on formal university occasions for
the amusement of academics as well as visiting non-eruditi. These mc.k
49
For an interesting (though ultimately unconvincing) discussion of W o o d ' s biographical motivations,
see J. W. Johnson, 'Anthony Wood and John Wilmot: the Antiquary as Autobiographer and
Biographer', Restoration vol. 12 (1988), pp. 69-79,
50
5 vols. (Oxford, 1891-1900); referred to hereafter as Life and Times.
XXIV
disputations and mock lectures reveal social and power structures within the
universities, and operate to set boundaries between the university and the outside
world. They reinforce membership of the university society by making jokes which
only insiders will understand. They exclude outsiders, and in particular women, by
attacking them directly with satire, under the guise of entertainment. However, a
closer reading of these texts reveals cracks in the facade of the monolithic, masculine
institution, and suggests that satire was being used as a way of exorcising
unacknowledged insecurities about the academies' place in early-modern England.
I conclude my study with a discussion of satirical attacks on eruditi at the
close of the seventeenth century. With the rise of the new philosophy, as espoused
by members of the Royal Society, and the classical philology practised by Richard
Bentley, came a clash of intellectual ideals. Paradoxically, it was a band of Christ
Church wits who attacked Bentley for his particular brand of erudition, and they did
so by drawing on the methods of erudite satirists. At the same time, Samuel Butler
and William King attacked the luminaries of the Royal Society for their perceived
follies. The satirists, who themselves possessed a measure of erudition, were
protesting what they saw as the misuse of learning by their targets. The nature and
meaning of erudition was changing, and with it changed the ways in which the
'erudite constructed their own identities. It was this attitude that produced one of the
greatest Augustan satires, Pope's Dunciad, which, however, stands beyond the topic
of this thesis.
The voices of satirists speak out boldly, angrily, and mockingly from
manuscripts compiled by university men in the seventeenth-century. Their words
bring the anxieties and controversies of their time vividly to life. Damning rhetoric,
such as this from the Oxford libeller, rings in our ears as it must have rung in the ears
of its victims, Hugh Halswell and Francis Hyde:
Particulars I will not then rehearse
All-Soules ccrupted are & ye universe.
Broke is ye knott of friendshipp, hence combines
Sedition, faction, honestie declines.
But is it Chfrist] Ch[urch] y' procures this evill
AIl=Soules affecting needes must be ye devill.51
1. Satire in early-modem English society
The principal end of Satyr, is to instruct the People by discrediting Vice.1
Harold Love has stated that, by the 1670s in England, satire was 'a genuinely popular
art', whose forms were universally accessible, even when the content was not.2
Following its introduction into England by a small number of highly-educated poets
and dramatists in the late sixteenth century, satire became one of the most widespread
literary modes. From formal verse satires composed in couplets to stanzaic popular
lampoons, satires were produced and consumed by all levels of society. Brian
Conner}' and Kirk Combe attribute the resurgence of satire in England after 1641 to
upheaval within English society, 'which not only permitted but encouraged an overtly
politicized use of satire as, in effect, a modern weapon of propaganda'.3 However,
political satire was matched in quantity by personal or local satire, influenced in part
by older traditions of comic and reprobative verse production within small
communities. The belief in satire's ability to influence its target's behaviour, claimed
by Roman satirists, seems to have been tempered by a native English emphasis on
satire's ability to amuse its audience and creators.
The satires that are the subject of this study were written by erudite
individuals, most of whom were members of the universities or the Inns of Court. It
might be expected that these men, steeped as they were in the classics, would model
their satires on those of Horace, Juvenal or Persius. As we will, see, however, this
was not generally the case. Certainly, they admired and were influenced by the
ancients - for example, a number of writers followed Horace in writing satirical
accounts of journeys (discussed in chapter three). However, formal verse satire is
1
Rene Rapin, Reflections on Aristotle's Treatise qfPoesie (London, 1674), p. 137.
Harold Love, 'Rochester and the Traditions of Satire' in Restoration Literature: Critical Approaches
ed. Harold Love (London, 1972), p. 146. See also chapter six of Love's Scribal Publication in
Seventeenth-century England (Oxford, 1993), in which he discusses scribally circulated satires.
3
Connery and Combe, Theorizing Satire, p. 3.
2
51
Bodleian Library MS Douce f. 5, f. 21 V .
largely absent from this study. Instead, these writers have drawn upon other
traditions. Among these, Menippean satire stands out as a favourite form for longer
discursive works, and the couplet lampoon or doggerel ballad for occasional vitriol or
mockery. In using these forms, erudite satirists drew upon and added to a constantlyevolving set of ideas about the nature and purpose of satire. In order to analyse
erudite satires more comprehensively, I will discuss in this chapter the different
forms and genres that contributed to erudite satire, and some of the ways in which
they were understood by their primary audiences.
Forms of satire
It seems reasonable to begin by surveying, where they exist, the opinions of earlymodern English people on the subject of satire and its function. The most thorough
seventeenth-century English discussion of satire is John Dryden's Discourse
concerning the Original and Progress of Satire (London, 1693), published as a
preface to a group translation of the satires of Juvenal and Persius/ Earlier analyses
can be found in Thomas Drant's preface to his translation of Horace, George
Puttenham's The Arte of English Poesie (1589), and John Buchler's Phrasium
Poeticarum Thesaurus (London, 1624).5 Rene Rapin's Reflections on Aristotle's
Treatise of Poesie (London, 1674) and John Sheffield, Earl of Mulgrave's An Essay
upon Poetry (London, 1682) include brief discussions of satire. Dryden
acknowledges his reliance on Andre Dacier's Sur les Satires d 'Horace, Ou I'on
explique Vorigine et leprogres de la Satire des Romains, et tous les changements qui
lui sont arrivez (1687) for part of his own work.6 Dryden also responds to the
commentaries of the continental Renaissance humanist scholars Isaac Casaubon,
Daniel Heinsius, Nicolas Rigault, and Julius Caesar Scaliger, all of whom had
written on satire or specific satirists.7
Most Renaissance discussion of satire concentrated on its ancient origins
(including the vexed question of its etymology) and practitioners, tracing as closely
4
The Satires ofDecimus Junius Juvenalis Translated into English Verse By Mr. Dryden, and Several
other Eminent Hands. Together with the Satires of Aulus Persius Flaccus Made English by Mr.
Dryden (London, 1693; repr. 1697). All references to the Discourse will be taken from The Works of
John Dryden, Vol. IV: Poems 1693-1696 ed. A. B. Chambers and William Frost (Berkeley, 1974).
5
Thomas Drant, A Medicinable Moral! (London, 1566); Puttenham, Arte of English Poesie, pp. 20,
24-5; John Buchler, Sacrarum Profanarumque Phrasium Poeticarum Thesaurus, pp. 483-5.
Dacier, in turn, relied, heavily on Isaac Casaubon's essay De Satyrica Graecorum Poesi et
Romanorum Satira (Paris, 1605;. Dacier's essay proved popular in England, published in English as a
preface to Miscellany Poems upon Several Occasions (London, 1692), with a Latin edition of
Horace's works published in London in 1694, and again with Monsieur Bossu's Treatise of the Epick
Poem (London, 1695).
7
The works of these scholars, and Dryden's use of them, are discussed in the notes to Dryden's
Discourse {Works of John Dryden, Vol. IV, pp. 543-44 et passim).
as possible the forms, styles and themes used by the ancient satirists. However, as
Kirk Combe has pointed out, satire is always localised in some way by new satirists,
even when they are consciously imitating their predecessors - otherwise its satiric
impact is lost.8 By the seventeenth century, localisation might include not only a
change in scene (from Rome to London, for example), but influence from parallel
literary traditions. These included the medieval 'complaint' genre, popular or
ephemeral productions such as libellous ballads and flytings, clerical and lay carnival
traditions, and Renaissance accretions such as the figure of the satyr-satirist, who
lingered long after he had been exposed as a fraudulent interloper. Early-modern
English satirists were conscious of some or all of these influences, even if they
rejected them in their works. In addition, the changing political, intellectual and
cultural climate of the seventeenth-century might force satirists to change their style,
adopt different forms, and, at certain times, cease production altogether.
Through all this, it is difficult to believe that all satirists had a single,
overriding sense of what satire was, and what they were doing when they wrote it.
However, it will be useful to investigate the perceived function of satire in earlymodern society, in order to compare the results with our investigation into a
microcosm of that society, the erudite community.
Etymology and origins
The etymology and origins of the word and genre 'satire' have perplexed generations
of critics. Dryden follows Dacier and Casaubon in their derivation of the word satire
from satura, meaning 'Full and Abundant; and full also of Variety'.9 The lanx
satura, or full platter, was the dish of different fruits offered to the gods at festivals,
and so satura came to mean a mixture. Dryden agrees with Dacier that the satires of
Ennius, Lucilius and Horace were so called, in part, because they consisted of
'various Matters' and 'various Subjects'.10 This is hardly the last word on the subject,
however. Dryden's explanations of satire's origins demonstrate, if nothing else, the
'variousness' of the genre.
Dryden credits ancient religious festivals as the birthplace of satire. At Greek
festivals, revellers dressed as satyrs (attendants to the god Bacchus) joined in rustic
singing and dancing. In festivities unconnected with the Greek ones (though
obviously motivated by the same spirit), young Roman men 'Danc'd and Sung after
their uncouth manner, to a certain kind of Verse, which they call'd Saturnian\ These
8
Combe, 'The New Voice of Political Dissent', p. 74.
Dryden, Discourse, p. 37. Casaubon had established this derivation (generally accepted today) in his
essay De Satyrica. Dryden's editors, though, question the extent to which his extremely learned
treatise was known in England at the time {Works of John Dryden, Vol. IV, p. 520).
10
Dryden, Discourse, p. 37.
9
Saturnian, or Fescenriine, verses were an early dramatic form, in which 'Actors with
a Gross and Rustick kind of raillery, reproach'd each other with their Failings; and at
the same time were nothing sparing of it to their Audience'.11 Dryden cites Horace
Epistles Hi (11. 5-6) as evidence that it was customary for participants at festivals to
good-naturedly taunt each other and joke about their own and others' faults, and he
likens these occasions to the 'Christmas Gambols' of his own time. Dryden suggests
that when a more civilised form of theatre emerged in Rome, it naturally drew upon
these early satirical verses, as well as the Old Comedy of Greece. The Greeks had
also invented parodic poems, which burlesqued heroic or tragic poetry, and invective
poems which attacked particular persons - though since none of the great Roman
satirists used these strategies they cannot properly be said to belong to satire.12
Angela Wheeler has argued that in giving this etymological explanation of satire,
Dryden rejects the image of satirist as a harsh, scourging 'satyr', popular in the
Elizabethan period.13 This is true to a certain extent, but the satyrs persist in
associating themselves with satire in its earliest forms. As we have seen, Dryden
draws parallels between festivals in Greece where mock-satyrs danced and sang, and
Roman festivals where young men sang verses mocking participants and audience
alike. Satyrs also appear in the Old Comedy of the Greeks, a genre which Dryden
agrees was transformed by Roman writers into satiric plays. Although Dryden
specifically rejects the idea that these forms were directly related to Roman satire,
nevertheless his explanation of the rise of satire seems to hint at the existence of a
natural 'satiric' spirit, which manifested itself simultaneously in Greece as the
mocking satyrs of comedy, and in Rome as the verses called satires.14 Dryden's
Discourse also emphasises the strong tradition of a close connection between satire
and drama, particularly comedy, and of satire as a form evolving from ancient rustic
festivities, which were often bawdy and obscene. As this low 'Mirth and
Wantonness' gave way to a more decent form, Dryden seems to make a distinction
between two groups within the audience. He calls Euripedes' Cyclops, the only
surviving 'satyr' play (a separate genre from Old Comedy), a mixture of 'Farce and
Tragedy', which had two aspects: 'The Adventure of Ulysses was to entertain the
Judging part of the Audience, and the uncouth Persons of Silenus, and the Satyrs, to
divert the Common People, with their gross Railleries'. In Dryden's opinion there
was little resemblance between this type of satiric drama and Roman satire, but his
distinction between 'judging' and 'common' members of the audience should be
noted. In effect, Dryden is distancing the 'low' side of satire, the obscenity and
harshness represented by the Satyrs, from the 'high' side, the heroic story of Ulysses.
The 'folly of the Common Audience' persists into his own time: they are 'apt to
forsake Poetry, and still ready to return to Buffoonry and Farce'.15 Clearly, satire
remains a mixed genre, and this is part of its universal appeal.
Tfje classical ideal
The ancient satirists most often read in the seventeenth century were Horace, Persius
and Juvenal. Editions of these authors appeared regularly in Latin and the
vernacular. The Bishop of Salisbury, says Dryden, even commended the Roman
satirists to 'the serious perusal and Practice of the Divines in his Diocese, as the best
Common Places for their Sermons'.16 Renaissance commentators and translators had
argued about which of these three authors' works should be considered the best
model for satire as a genre. n Angela Wheeler points out that J. C. Scaliger's
distinction between the Horatian and the Juvenalian types of satire, made in his
Poetices Libri Septem (1561), had found general acceptance.18 Even so, a large
section of Dryden's essay is taken up with the question of who was the greatest of the
Roman satirists. He begins by repeating Casaubon's claim that the two necessary
aspects of Roman satire are 'Moral Doctrine... and Urbanity, or well-manner'd Wit'
(p. 55). Casaubon favours moral teaching over wit because his favourite satirist,
Persius, excels at the former. Dryden praises Persius for adhering to the Stoic
philosophy strictly, unlike Horace, who shifts philosophies as it suits him, or Juvenal,
who 'declaims . . . more like an Orator than a Philosopher' (p. 56). Ultimately,
however, he discounts Persius because of his discordant verse, impure Latin, and
obscurity. Although Persius' precepts are so conformable to Christian doctrine that
'what he teaches, might be taught from Pulpits' (p. 56), the difficulty of his style
detracts from his usefulness as a moral arbiter.
Having dispensed with Persius, Dryden finds the contest between Horace and
Juvenal more difficult to decide, and eventually divides the honours between them,
choosing Horace as a 'better Instructor' (p. 61) and Juvenal as the 'greater Poet', at
least in satire (p. 65).19 Dryden returns constantly to the idea that satire consists of
11
Ibid., p. 30; pp. 38-39.
Ibid., p. 35.
13
Angela J. Wheeler, English Verse Satire from Donne to Dryden: Imitation of Classical Models
(Heidelberg, 1992), p. 292.
14
Later theorists have been conscious of humanity's innate urge to write satires: see, for example,
Mary Claire Randolph, 'The Structural Design of Formal Verse Satire', repr. in Satire: Modern Essays
in Criticism ed. Ronald Paulson (Englewood Cliffs, 1971), p. 171, and Test, Satire: Spirit and Art,
p. ix.
12
15
Dryden, Discourse, pp. 33-34.
Ibid., p. 56.
17
Elliott has discussed early commentators' preferences for Juvenal or Horace in terms of their desire
to decide exactly what satire was (The Power of Satire, pp. 116-19).
18
Wheeler, English Verse Satire, p. 293.
19
See also John Fowler's 'Dryden and Literary Good-breeding' in Restoration Literature, pp. 225-46.
16
wit, or humour, or pleasantness; and instruction, or the rebuking of folly, or the
scourging of vice. Folly and vice are both legitimate targets of satire, in his view:
Horace mocked and discouraged folly, and Juvenal attacked vice. In defining satire,
Dryden quotes from Heinsius:
Satire is a kind of Poetry, without a Series of Action, invented for the purging of our
Minds; in which Humane Vices, Ignorance, and Errors, and all things besides, which
areproduc'dfrom them, in every Man, are severely Reprehended; partly Dramatically,
partly Simply, and sometimes in both kinds of speaking; but for the most part
Figuratively, and Occultly; consisting in a low familiar way, chiefly in a sharp and
pungent manner of Speech; but partly, also, in a Facetious and Civil way of Jesting; by
which, either Hatred, or Laughter, or Indignation is mov 'd.20
Dryden d^ems this description 'obscure and perplex'd', but allows most of it (noting
that 'without a Series of Action' distinguishes satires from 'Stage-Plays'). He also
points out that only Horace writes in the iow familiar' style, and that therefore no
prescription should be made as to the style proper to satire, since the three Romans
used quite different styles.
Interestingly, Dryden attributes the differences in the satirists' choice of
subjects, and style, to the different conditions under which they were writing.
Persius, he says, attacked 'Lewdness, which was the Predominant Vice in Nero's
Court'; Horace was 'a Mild Admonisher, a Court Satirist, fit for the gentle Times of
Augustus'; and Juvenal wrote in times which needed 'a more severe Chastisement'
because vices flourished under Domitian's tyranny (p. 69). These local conditions
can also influence a satirist's style: Casaubon claimed that his obscure style was
recommended to Persius by his tutor Cornutus, for fear of persecution from Nero if
he spoke more plainly. Dryden dismisses this argument, sarcastically suggesting
Persius must have taken the counsel so much to heart, that he was not only obscure
'where his Life and Safety were in question', but 'never afterwards Wrote ten Lines
together clearly' (p. 53). Nevertheless, Casaubon and Dryden recognise that satire
can be dangerous, for its author and readers, and for the government. Rene Rapin
also acknowledges this when, after stating that satire's main function is 'to instruct
the People by discrediting Vice', he adds: 'It may therefore be of great advantage in a
State, when taught to keep within its bounds'.21 Although the ancient practitioners
and modern commentators agree that satire is primarily a tool for the moral education
of the people, they demonstrate an awareness of its fundamental potential for
subversion.22
20
Dryden, Discourse, p. 77.
Rapin, Reflections on Aristotle's Treatise ofPoesie, p. 137.
22
In his first satire, Juvenal suggests it is safest for satirists to attack dead men (11. 170-1). Nero
banished Datus, 'an actor of Atellan farces', for mocking him in song (Suetonius, Lives of the Caesars
ed. J. C. Rolfe, 2 vols. (London and Cambridge, 1959), vol. II, p. 159).
21
Renaissance Menippean satire
Dryden recognised Menippean (or Varronian) satire as an alternative classical subgenre, often distinguished by its use of prose, prose mixed with verse. Among
ancient Menippean satires, he lists Petronius's Satyricon, Lucian's Dialogues,
Apuleius' Golden Ass, Seneca's Apocolocyntosis, and Julian the Apostate's
Symposium. Among modern works he lists Erasmus' Praise of Folly, Barclay's
Euphormio, a 'Volume of German Authors' (probably the Epistolae Obscurorum
Virorum), and his own 'Absalom and Achitophel' and 'MacFlecknoe'.23 Menippean
satire was a form that had been popular with Renaissance humanists, some of whom
used it to write highly intellectual parodic or humorous texts.24 Dryden's insertion of
his own works into a less-erudite strain of the Menippean tradition signals its
continuing influence over some Restoration satirists.25
W. Scott Blanchard has suggested that the Renaissance revival of Menippean
satire occurred as a consequence of a shift in the perception of scholarship, from an
activity indulged in by amateurs financed by wealthy patrons, to a professional
occupation with its own intellectual integrity.26 Blanchard argues that this creation of
the structure of modern scholarship caused humanists to feel a new sense of
competition in their work, and that Menippean satire was a natural outlet for tension.
He repeatedly stresses his view of Menippean satire as a highly intellectual form,
arguing that
Menippean satire is a genre both for and about scholars; it is an immensely learned form
that is at the same time paradoxically anti-intellectual. If its master of ceremonies is the
humanist as wise fool, its audience is a learned community whose members need to be
reminded . . . of the limits of human understanding.27
He shares his opinion of the erudite nature of Menippean satire with F. Anne Payne,
who suggests that the purpose of the genre is to undermine any philosophical world
views which purport to contain, and explain, the whole truth about the human
23
Dryden, Discourse, p. 48.
For a definition of the genre, see F. Anne Payne's discussion of Bakhtin's work of analysis, in her
Chaucer and Menippean Satire (Madison, 1981), pp. 7-11.
25
For an interesting analysis of Dryden's understanding of Menippean satire and possible reasons for
his identification of 'Absalom and Achitophel' as Menippean, see Kirk Combe, 'Shadwell as Lord of
Misrule: Dryden, Varronian Satire, and Carnival', Eighteenth-century Life vol. 24 (2000), pp. 1-18.
26
Blanchard, Scholars' Bedlam, pp. 12-14.
27
Ibid., p. 14. However, Blanchard's view is challenged by Ingrid De Smet, w h o finds his definition
too loose, and 'imposed, from hindsight' on disparate humanist writings (Menippean Satire and the
Republic of Letters, p. 31). De Smet outlines a number of attributes identified by Renaissance
humanists themselves as belonging to Menippean satire, which she sees as a better m e t h o d of
definition (pp. 31-68). Obviously, Blanchard has chosen examples of Menippean satire which
reinforce his idea of the genre as an intellectual one; equally obviously, there were many such
examples to choose from, which tends to support his case.
24
m
8
condition.28 Typically, Menippean satires employ a mixture of verse and prose, the
juxtaposition of styles, encyclopaedic lists or 'anatomies', snippets of other
languages, and references (often parodic) to other literary works. These stylistic
peculiarities add to the comic effect, and to the sense of turbulent and chaotic
unreality present in the work. They also make the genre particularly enticing for
erudite readers and writers. The inclusion of obscure literary jokes and discussions
of arcane branches of knowledge means less-erudite readers are quickly lost in a
tangle of references, and are unable fully to understand the work. At the same time,
the work becomes something of a brain-teaser for the learned reader, whose place in
the community of intellectuals is assured, if he understands the references.29 Like its
content, the forms of Menippean satire reflect its intellectual character: 'the mock
academic lecture... the mock encomium . . . the mock learned compendium . . . and
the scholarly quarrel or philological squabble - a manic symposium - with its
tendency to advance literary criticism in more positive instances and to deteriorate
into invective in more destructive cases'.30
The genre may also have appealed to the intellectual humanist communities
of the Renaissance because of its paradoxical nature, noted by Blanchard. Although
works of this kind are often crammed as full as possible with scraps and by-products
of intellectual endeavour, the work as a whole serves to undermine the ideal of
scholarship, by implying that learning is ultimately futile in an uncertain and erratic
world. Philosophical systems are praised, and then ironically shown to be useless,
and ridiculous, in the face of human suffering. Erasmus's character Folly
misunderstands and subtly misquotes the ancient authors, and uses scholastic
methods of reasoning and argument to support her case, thereby making not only her
own contentions ridiculous, but also the scholars who use the same quibbling logic.
Blanchard suggests that an element of self-doubt, which accompanied the
Renaissance humanists' discoveries, found expression in Menippean satire.31 The
dilemma of the Christian scholar, who must believe that God alone is the source of
truth, and yet desires to ssek out the knowledge handed down by the ancients in their
writings, is also explored. As a genre which, because of its ambiguous, chaotic
nature, works against the resolution of conflict, Menippean satire was the ideal
choice for Renaissance scholars who wanted to raise questions about the pursuit of
scholarship.
Humamst academic satire
The Renaissance tradition of erudite satire also included various types of academic
satire, which were written for specific occasions and rituals celebrated in the
university environment. Blanchard discusses the work of two late-fifteenth-century
Italian humanists, Codro Urceo and Angelo Poliziano, who wrote 'mock encomia
parodying the traditional university praelectio or inaugural lecture'.32 Poliziano's
Lamia, written in 1492, was a burlesque introduction to a course on Aristotle's Prior
Analytics, which undermined, rather than praised, the work about to be studied.
Poliziano used the occasion to 'deflate the claims of philosophy's intellectual
dominance in the curriculum', and to put forward the case for the humanist scholar's
ability to teach and interpret philosophical texts, based on his superior knowledge of
Greek. He used the carnival image of the marketplace to represent the various
activities of men, describing rope-walkers, tumbiers, cutpurses and poets, and
asserting that only philosophers claim to stand aside from the bustle of everyday life.
Blanchard sees this as a reaction to the increasing professionalisation of humanist
scholarship, and the demands of the 'intellectual marketplace', which made it
impossible for scholars to remain disinterested and aloof.33 It may also reflect
humanism's conscious rejection of the contemplative for the useful, active life. After
discrediting philosophers by ridiculing their claim to detachment, Poliziano
attempted to demonstrate the importance of his own discipline, that of the
'grammarian' or philologist, thus making a serious point about the Renaissance
hierarchy of studies. Codro Urceo, a correspondent of Poliziano's, composed his
own mock encomium in 1494, again analysing humanist scholarly endeavour.
Blanchard calls it 'at once a hysterical send-up of the humanist program and a deeply
sane commentary on the emerging institution of criticism', which is a predecessor of
the sixteenth-century academic controversies conducted in the Menippean form.34
In his Moriae Encomium (1509), Erasmus revived a classical form of satire,
the paradoxical encomium, in which the methods used in genuine encomia are
applied to unworthy subjects.35 Folly herself comments that many writers have 'spent
sleepless nights burning the midnight oil to work out elaborate encomia of Busiris,
Phalaris, the quartan fever, flies, baldness, and other dangerous nuisances'.36
32
Ibid., pp. 52-66.
Ibid., pp. 54-5.
M
Ibid., p. 61.
35
For the classical tradition of paradoxical encomia and its early-modern practitioners, see Rosalie L.
Colie, Paradoxia Epidemica: the Renaissance Tradition of Paradox (Princeton, 1966); Henry Knight
Miller 'The Paradoxical Encomium with Special Reference to its Vogue in England 1600-1800',
Modern Philology vol. 53 (1956), pp. 145-78; and Annette Tomarken, The Smile of Truth: the French
Satirical Eulogy and its Antecedents (Princeton, 1990).
36
Erasmus, Moriae Encomium trans. Clarence H. Miller (New Haven, 1979), p. 12. Annette
33
28
29
30
31
Payne, Chaucer and Menippean Satire, pp. 3-37.
Like the crossword in the Times Literary Supplement.
Blanchard, Scholars' Bedlam, pp. 163-4.
Ibid., p. 12.
17
16
the Jeremiads produced, while containing some elements similar to satire, were in
fact quite different from satire in tone and form. Peter enumerates several points
where the two genres diverge, which it will be useful to repeat here:71
i. satire is concerned with 'the concrete particularity of real life', whereas
complaint is general, 'often allegorical', and attacks the abuse, rather than the
abuser;
ii. satire mocks, 'reflecting only a token desire for reform', but complaint is more
corrective, which corresponds with its espousal of Christian tenets;
iii. unlike the vituperative satirist, who often takes centre stage in his work, the
speaker of complaint is unobtrusive. His views are those of all good Christians,
and he merely needs to repeat Christian doctrine to argue his case;
iv. satire can range in tone from vitriolic abuse to mocking urbanity, whereas
complaint is more limited, usually aiming to persuade with sober and reasonable
words;
v. satire is usually addressed to a third party, rather than the target, whereas
complaint is 'comprehensive and unspecific', and 'easily applied by a reader to
himself; and
vi. satire is a relatively sophisticated mode, whereas complaint is not.
In everyday life, the act of complaining generally relieves a sense of ill-usage on the
part of the complainant, by making others aware of the evils of his or her existence.
The poetical form of complaint is designed not to elicit sympathy for the writer (who
remains an anonymous voice, or at most a shadowy personality), but rather sympathy
with his cause. This is made easier by the targeting of abuses which are naturally
abhorrent to Christian men and women. Peter argues that the purpose of complaint is
social correction. As Owst has pointed out, complaint is a near literary relative of the
sermon, with both genres using similar themes, tone and language. It follows that
complaint fulfils a function similar to some types of sermon, where hearers are
exhorted to turn away from the wickedness corrupting the world.
At the same time, complaint gave a voice to the people who were most
affected by the unjust practices of the ruling classes. One cannot imagine that these
poems persuaded many perpetrators of social evils to change their ways, but for
listeners of low social status they may have been the only form of protest available
and permissible. By reading or listening to the verses they were participating in the
act of protest enunciated by the author, but were not themselves transgressing against
the order of society because the complaint verses upheld God's word, on which their
social orde r was based.
Several studies have charted the rise of classical satirical models, which
71
John Peter, Complaint and Satire in Early English Literature (Oxford, 1956), pp. 9-10.
overtook complaint as favoured vehicles for Elizabethans and Jacobeans wanting to
rail against society's ills.72 Roderick Lyall sees the transition from complaint to
satire as a function of the deeper divisions in society which developed during the
Reformation. Most medieval satire was similar to complaint, in that it attacked types
rather than individuals, and underlying moral causes rather than abuses. Lyall claims
that 'the Reformers became more specific in their attacks, more aware of the
possibility of immediate and particular change and less compromising in their
denunciation of opponents'.73 Echoes of complaint's preference for general rather
than specific attacks can be seen in Thomas Drant's claim that in his translation of
Horace, he has 'for the moste part drawen [Horace's] priuate carpyng of this or that
man to a general moral'.74 Drant also frames his translations as guides to Christian
morality. They are published alongside a translation of the Old Testament book of
Jeremiah, which Drant sees as performing a similar function to Horace's work,
though in a lachrymose manner.75
Despite its replacement by a form believed by its Elizabethan practitioners to
be closer to Roman verse satire, complaint lingered as a satirical mode which could
be deployed by satirists for particular effects. In his discussion of popular satires
written against the first Duke of Buckingham, Kirk Combe identifies one way in
which the complaint tradition was drawn upon for later satiric purposes. He argues
that some writers created a satiric persona which deliberately recalled the honest
'ploughman' type - thus luring the reader into accepting the poem's political
message at face value, rather than interrogating it with the close attention customarily
given to satire. He concludes that, by the mid-seventeenth century, complaint had
become a 'device of satire', rather than a living genre.76 This may be true for
political satirists, but later writers used complaint as a mode in which to express a
general dissatisfaction with life's trials, for which the newer forms of satire, used
more often for personal attacks, seemed less appropriate. Thus, using complaint
could be a deliberate archaism, an attempt to appeal to readers' underlying religious
convictions rather than their reason, or a strategy to soften the tone of a satirical
work.
Sixteenth-century satire
The vicissitudes of satire in 1590s England, its supposed re-invention by a group of
well-educated poets at the Inns of Court, its suppression with the Bishops' ban of
72
See, for example, Angela Wheeler's English Verse Satire, and John Peter's Complaint and Satire.
Lyall, 'Complaint, Satire and Invective', pp. 55, 60.
74
Drant, A Medicinable Morall, sig. a3 v .
75
Ibid., sig. a3 r .
76
Combe, The New Voice of Political Dissent', pp. 86-7,90.
73
10
I ;
Erasmus, in his prefatory Letter to Thomas More, gave these and other examples,
including Lucian's Muscae Encomium, Seneca's Apocolocyntosis, and Apuleius's
Golden Ass?1 Erasmus treated his subject in a light-hearted way, with Folly using
Latin and Greek tags in a high-flown style at odds with her pronouncements.
However, the huge number of classical allusions and references (many also found in
ihsAdagia) would a'km most rtn.Oers access to the full complexity of the work only
in an annotated e J-tic; Sir Thomas Chaloner, the first English translator of the
Moriae Encomium (1549), noied in his preface that Erasmus had opened 'all his
bowget' of wit in the work, and that 'the reader hauyng any considerance, shall soone
espie, how in euery mattier . . . is hidden besides the myrth, some deaper sence and
purpose'.38 The aim of the work, as Erasmus himself states in his letter defending the
Moriae to Martin Dorp, is the same as that of his other writings, to present 'the
character of a Christian life', 'to admonish, not to sting; to help, not to hurt; to
promote morality, not to hinder it'.39 The mixed reception of the Moriae among
Christian theologians, which necessitated the explanatory letter quoted and other
letters refuting charges of heresy or blasphemy, is evidence of the challenging nature
of the work. We have Erasmus's own claim that the idea for the Moriae came to him
while he was 'recalling the most learned and charming friends' whom he had met in
England, Thomas More among them. He writes that he believes More will enjoy the
work, because of the pleasure he takes in jokes which 'do not lack learning . . . and
are not utterly deficient in wit'.40 These statements indicate the primary audience
Erasmus envisaged for the work, and its likely function within that group. The choice
of an ancient comical-satirical genre, and the inclusion of a dazzling array of
knowledge, are not particularly appropriate for a popular didactic work. Written for
the circle of English eruditi who were the friends of More and Erasmus, the Moriae
was primarily intended to be an amusing display of learning, as well as the
explanation of 'the humanists' program for educational, religious, and theological
reform' which Clarence H. Miller has found it to be.41 Erasmus certainly foresaw the
possibility that the Moriae would be attacked by members of 'the educational and
ecclesiastical establishment'.42 His diligence in defending it implies that, besides
11
being unwilling to accept the charges of heresy and blasphemy levelled at him, he
believed his work dealt with serious issues, separate from Folly's comic routine.
'Homely taunts': proto- and popular satire
'The vapours of Wine made those first Satyrical Poets amongst the Romans*, wrote
Dryden, and added Dacier's description: 'a Company of Clowns on a Holyday,
dancing Lubberly, and upbraiding one another in Extempore Doggrel, with their
Defects and Vices, and the Stories that were told of them in Bake-houses, and
Barbers Shops'.43 There are unspoken, but obvious, parallels between the antics of
these ancient Roman 'Clowns' and those of popular libellers in early-modern
England. Dryden does not make this connection - in fact, he specifically rejects the
lampoon from his consideration of satire ~ but not all satirists were purists. Many
satirists seem to have been unconcerned about the divide between libel and satire,
and were willing to draw upon the popularity of ballad or lampoon forms in their
own work.
The history of vituperation is a long one: Dryden suggested that Adam and
Eve began it by blaming each other for eating the fruit in the Garden of Eden.44
Robert C. Elliott has investigated the links between magic and the beginnings of
satire, suggesting that 'in their early manifestations, satire, invective, and ridicule
may be closely associated with magic'.45 The early Greek and Irish satires he
discusses largely consist of invective, in the form of curses, which according to
legend often killed or inflicted hideous disfigurement on their targets. Even in very
early examples, the vigour of the invective is defended by the satirist's argument that
he is punishing his victim for some perceived misdemeanour (either against the
satirist himself, or less frequently, against society), and that he is therefore justified in
his attack. What is demonstrated most clearly though, is the real and deadly power of
the spoken word in primitive cultures.46 The Irish poets were particularly powerful
(and irascible), and several early modem English writers refer to their reputed ability
to rhyme rats and mice to death.47 The ancient Greek curses of Archilochus were
43
Tomarken has pointed out that by putting this remark into Folly's mouth, Erasmus is making an
ambiguous comment about the genre he himself is using {Smile of Truth, pp. 38-9).
37
Erasmus, Moriae Encomium, p. 3. That the two latter works are also regularly cited as examples of
Menippean satire d e m o n s b ^ e s the fluidity of generic identifications when dealing with satirical texts.
Tomarken emphasises Erasmus's debt to Lucian, and credits him with much of Lucian's Renaissance
popularity as author and exemplar.
' 8 Sir Thomas Chaloner, The Praise ofFolie ed. Clarence H. Miller (Oxford, 1965), p. 5.
39
Erasmus, Moriae Encomium, p. 143.
40
Ibid., pp. 1,2.
41
Ibid., p. xi.
42
Ibid., p. xii.
Dryden, Discourse, p. 39.
Ibid.,p. 28.
45
Elliott, The Power of Satire, p. 6.
46
Elliott talks of different societies' use of insult as a way of ritualizing conflict, but admits that in
communities where shame plays a large part in the upholding of the social order, this ritual conflict can
be just as painful or deadly for the loser as actual violence {The Power of Satire, pp. 73 fi). He
compares traditional Eskimo insult-matches with the Dozens', an African-American form of oral
combat also discussed by Ong in Fighting for Life (pp. 108, ! 2 5 , 1 4 2 ) .
47
Elliott cites Ben Jonson, Rosalinde in As You Like It, Sir William Temple, Swift and P o p e , all of
whom refer to the tradition {The Power of Satire, p. 35). Fred Norris Robinson notes that Sidney's
Defense of Poesy (1595) and Reginald Scot's Discovery of Witchcraft (London, 1651) mention fatal
Irish rhymes ('Satirists and Enchanters in Early Irish Literature' in Satire: Modern Essays in Criticism,
44
13
12
supposed to have caused the deaths of his betrothed and her father.48
Apart from obvious differences in aim and content, the distinction between
cursing, or invective, and other kinds of satirical productions, seems to depend on the
distance (or lack of it) between the author and satiric persona. Roderick Lyall defines
invective as literature where 'the central preoccupation remains abuse of an
individual. .. and no fictional or rhetorical device is introduced to distance the poet
from his target'.49 However, even, such a seemingly artless form could be
appropriated by different poets to become less immediate and more ritualised.
Among other examples, the medieval Scottish poets Dunbar and Kennedy used
invective as a form of courtly entertainment in their flytings. Their attacks, though
highly vituperative (and somewhat incomprehensible), were ritualistic, and probably
not intended literally.
Popular ballads, libels and lampooning verses were another form of attack
which could range across the satirical spectrum from the immediate and personal to
an ironically distanced response. Douglas Gray has found that popular satires were
employed to punish a range of perceived social offences, such as adultery, wife- or
husband-beating, or the marriage of an elderly widower with a young girl.50 This
type of satire, part mockery, part abuse, acts both to chastise the target or targets, and
to reinforce the moral code of the society. However, it is also strongly carnivalesque
in character. Most libels seem to have been composed in the local tavern, with the
aid of ale, which suggests a likelihood of mixed intentions.51 The oral nature of the
libels meant that they were often performed, either by the authors at the time of
composition, in a public place such as an inn, or by a group of villagers in an
organised attack on the victims.52 The latter occasion was usually accompanied by
'rough music', consisting of shouts and whistles, horns, bells, and the banging of
pots, pans or kettles with keys or sticks, or anything else which would add to the
cacophony. Though Martin Ingram finds this sort of activity was usually aimed at
endorsing patriarchal social values (often mocking overbearing wives), he argues that
the occasions were not merely corrective, but, through their obvious carnival
element, were a way of defusing tensions between 'the patriarchal ideal and the
infinite variety of husband/wife relationships'.53 Gray and Ingram attribute a
normative function to popular satire. Ingram finds that the authors of libels
commonly represented their subjects as deviating from communal standards,
implying that the speakers were just in their accusations. However, the root of the
matter sometimes lay in icng standing gentry feuds, faction struggles among town
oligarchs, or contests for land and status among the sub-aristocracies of yeomen and
substantial husbandmen and tradesmen who dominated many rural communities'.54
Tension between Puritans and anti-Puritans was to be another fruitful source of such
pieces.55
Although these verse libels were primarily oral in the first stages, Adam Fox
has demonstrated that they could later be disseminated in a variety of ways, including
being copied out, distributed to villagers, and posted on walls or gates.56 Later
Restoration satires were also published in a fashion which guaranteed a wide
readership, without the dangers of print.57 The victims of libellous ballads were
generally local characters, who were named in the verses. This topicality and
specificity was to become part of the development of satire after the Elizabethans:
Andrew McRae has identified this as a means by which formal verse satire assumed
some of the characteristics of popular satiric verses.58 Alastair Bellany has
investigated the connection between verse libels and politics, suggesting that libels
were read alongside other sources of news, and that libels were more credible in
conjunction with these other forms than on their own. He also makes the interesting
point that allegations of disease and vice had a religio-political significance beyond
the primary assassination of character: syphilis was 'foreign' and contaminating, and
'sexual promiscuity, poisoning, and witchcraft were all commonly associated both
with each other and with popery'.59 Verse libels and other sources of news began to
complement and inform each other, a trend which can be seen in the Restoration
53
Ingram, 'Ridings, Rough Music and Mocking Rhymes', pp. 176-177.
/&/</., pp. 185-6.
55
See, for example, C. J. Sisson's account of libels on Puritans who disapproved of such traditional
recreations as May-poles, church ales, and May games at Wells in 1607 (Lost Plays of Shakespeare's
Age (Cambridge, 1936), pp. 162-85). For the wider picture, see David Underdown, Revel, Riot, and
Rebellion: Popular Politics and Culture in England, 1603-1660 (Oxford, 1985).
56
Fox, Oral and Literate Culture, p. 317.
57
The tradition of publishing lampoons by posting them on the statue of Pasquin in R o m e was also
well-known to Restoration and earlier writers. For other clandestine methods of publishing satire, see
Love, Scribal Publication, esp. chapter six.
58
Andrew McRae, 'Renaissance Satire and the Popular Voice' in Imperfect Apprehensions: Essays in
English Literature in Honour ofG. A. Wilkes ed. Geoffrey Little (Sydney, 1996), p . l 1.
59
Alastair Bellany, '"Raylinge Rymes and Vaunting Verse": Libellous Politics in Early Stuart
England' in Culture and Politics in Early Stuart England ed. K. Sharpe and P. Lake (Stanford, 199^),
pp. 2 9 2 , 2 9 5 - 6 .
54
p.l).
48
Elliott, The Power of Satire, p. 7.
Roderick Lyall, 'Complaint, Satire and Invective in Middle Scots Literature' in Church, Politics and
Society: Scotland 1408-1929 ed. Norman MacDougall (Edinburgh, 1983), p. 46.
50
Douglas Gray, 'Rough Music: Some Early Invectives and Flytings', The Yearbook of English
Studies vol. 14 (1984), p. 25.
51
Adam Fox, Oral and Literate Culture in England 1500-1700 (Oxford, 2000), p. 325. Martin Ingram
has noted that 'the making or singing of ballads on strange, obscene or amusing subjects . . . was a
traditional holiday occupation' ('Ridings, Rough Music and Mocking Rhymes in Early Modern
England' in Popular Culture in Seventeenth-century England ed. Barry Reay (London, 1985), p. 179).
52
Fox, Oral and Literate Culture, p. 317. Douglas Gray has also pointed out that much popular satire
'involves or implies some kind of "performance"' ('Rough Music', p. 23); and Laura Gowing
emphasises the performative nature of slander {Domestic Dangers, p. 120).
49
15
14
satires attributed to Andrew Marvell.
Dryden digresses from his discussion of satire proper to attack the writers of
verse lampoons. He calls the lampoon 'a dangerous sort of Weapon, and for the most
part Unlawful'; however, revenge is sometimes a justification for writing lampoons,
as is the desire to chastise a 'Publick Nuisance'.60 Lampoons, it seems, are more
sharply focussed and less witty or humorous than satire - closer in tone to invective.
Dryden's enemy Thomas Shad well also differentiates libel from 'true Satyr\
claiming the latter must have 'Truth, and Salt, with Modesty*:
with enthusiastic listeners memorising the work, and sometimes adding their own
verses.
The complaint tradition
Sparing the Person, this does tax the Crimes,
11
Gall's not great Men, but Vices of the Times,
With Witty and Sharp, not blunt and bitter rimes.
61
Shadwell claims that he is advocating a more Horatian mode of satire, which he
associates strop gly with a witty urbanity, in contrast with Dryden's attempts at
humour, which sit 'like Modish Clothes upon a Clown'.62 The fact that he makes a
point of distinguishing between libel and satire argues that many writers did not though most satirists take the high moral ground and claim that their works have
nothing to do with libel or lampoon. Andrew McRae suggests there was a 'mutually
enriching relationship between libels and satires', pointing to the ways in which
libellers drew on current print and the London stage, as well as popular traditions, to
enliven their works.63 McRae argues that though satirists claimed social and
intellectual superiority, for many 'coded references to contemporaries were clearly
fundamental to satire, and in this way the genre drew upon the resources of
libelling' ,64 Other links between satire, lampoon, and popular libellous ballads occur
where the popular traditions influence the forms of satires. Harold Love has pointed
out that the epigrammatic form of many satires from the 1590s onwards lingers in
later lampoons such as the 'Advice to a Painter' poems and Mulgrave's Essay on
Satyr.65 In many cases, the writers were imitating the classical epigrams of Martial however, they may also have been influenced by popular lampoons. Similarly,
satirists could cast some or all of a work in ballad form. This could ensure the
speedy spread of the material to a wider audience through oral and sung renditions,
.
The satiric spirit existed in England long before late-sixteenth-century English
writers began consciously imitating and quoting from Horace and Juvenal. G. R.
Owst writes that the first vernacular satirical verses appeared during the second half
of the thirteenth century at a period when other types of satire already flourished.
He describes three main forms of satire current at this time. The first of these was
'Goliardic Latin poetry', written by 'clerici ribaldi, wandering scholars from the
Universities and the like'. Their work had 'classical, scholastic and romantic
elements', and was influenced by the sermons of the time.68 The second type was
'Anglo-Norman satirical songs', which were written by 'wandering minstrels of the
court', who came under the protection of noble employers, against whose feudal
opponents they wrote their ballads. The third was 'vernacular verse-satire', which
according to Owst became more popular while the other two forms declined. This
vernacular satire expressed the popular emotions of the English, but was no longer
influenced by the romantic ideals of the Goliards or the feudal spirit of the minstrels.
The convivial tone of earlier proto-satires was largely replaced by bitterness and
gloom, which Owst argues reflects the 'solemnity and pessimism of the
contemporary pulpit'.69
The satires of the goliardic poets and wandering minstrels can be seen as
carnival and ritualised conflict respectively. The goliards attack 'the corruptions of
their age, particularly those of the various Orders and dignitaries of the Church
whose own servants they are'.70 From their own weak positions within it, they write
satire which attempts to undermine the power structures of the church. Conversely,
the minstrels write against the enemies of their noble employers, attempting to
reinforce the powerful position of the latter by denigrating their opponents.
The popular vernacular verse which replaced these earlier satiric forms is
more difficult to analyse. John Peter has labelled this genre 'complaint', arguing that
60
Dryden, Discourse, pp. 59-60.
Thomas Shadwell, The Medal of John Bayes: a Satyr against Folly and Knavery (London, 1682),
p. 2.
61
62
63
Ibid.,p.3.
A d a m Fox discusses ways in which amateur versifiers appropriated characters and situations from
printed texts ('Popular Verses and their Readership in the Early Seventeenth Century' in The Practice
and Representation of Reading in England ed. James Raven et al. (Cambridge, 1996), p. 135). The
relationship also worked in the other direction: Love has pointed out that theatre writers in the 1680s
assumed their audiences would be familiar with certain scribally published lampoons (Scribal
Publication, p. 269).
64
McRae, 'Renaissance Satire and the Popular Voice', pp. 8 , 1 1 .
65
Love, 'Rochester and the Traditions of Satire', pp. 147-8.
66
See, for example, the satirical ballad on Thomas Earl of Danby 'What the Devil ails the parliament'
(also found with the variant first line 'Zoons what ails the parliament', and several permutations
thereof). Different versions exist in a large number of manuscript miscellanies, with texts varying in
length from 24 to 160 lines, out of 236 lines preserved overall.
67
G. R. Owst, Literature and Pulpit in Medieval England (Oxford, 1961), p. 214.
68
For Goliard poets and vagabond scholars, see Helen Waddell, The Wandering Scholars (London,
1927); George F. Whichei, The Goliard Poets: Medieval Latin Songs and Satires (New York, 1949);
and Hilde de Ridder-Symoens's chapter 'Mobility' in A History of the University in Europe, Vol. I:
Universities in the Middle Ages ed. Hilde de Ridder-Symoens (Cambridge, 1992), p p . 280-304.
69
Owst, Literature and Pulpit, p. 214.
70
Ibid.
19
18
1599, its subsequent influence on the London theatres, and finally its renewed
popularity in the early seventeenth century, have all been discussed by various critics
of English satire and satirists.77 The governing persona is the satyr-satirist - the wild,
bestial, scourge-wielding moralist. Alvin Kernan suggests that the Elizabethans saw
satire as 'a poem in which the author playing the part of the satyr attacks vice in the
crude, elliptic, harsh language which befits his assumed character and his low subject
matter'.78 This vision dominated satire in the late sixteenth century. The satirists'
targets were still the type-figures attacked by earlier writers, although their
motivations may have changed. Oscar Campbell argues that much satire of the later
sixteenth century was prompted by economic changes such as inflation and
enclosure, and was directed against the nouveau riche, grain engrossers, rack-renters
and other unpopular characters.79
John Marston and Joseph Hall are two of the better-known Elizabethan
satirists. Both were well-educated - Marston studied at Brasenose College, Oxford,
and then the Middle Temple, and Hall began writing while at Emmanuel College,
Cambridge. Hall claimed to be the first English writer whose formal verse satire was
consciously modelled on Roman examples. His first book of satires, Virgidemiarum,
was published in two parts, in 1597 and 1598. It was to these satires that Marston
was reacting when he attacked Hall in his own satires. Much has been made of the
literary controversy between Hall and Marston, but there are no clear references to
Marston in Hall's work, and some critics have suggested that Marston attacked Hall
simply because he wanted an opportunity to put forward his theory of satire, and
because Hall was already a well-known satirist, of whom Marston was envious.80
Hall's Virgidemiarum is composed of 'Sixe Bookes', the first three 'Of Tooth-lesse
Satyrs', and the second three lOf byting Satyres\ Richard McCabe links Hall's
satires with his religious ideals and claims that his 'choice of style is inextricably
connected with what he conceives to be the moral purpose of his writings' - any
difficulties of expression would interfere with the didactic function of the satires.81
His satiric style is less harsh and obscure than Marston's, who seemed to have taken
the model of the satyr-satirist more seriously. Raman Selden describes Marston's
satires as juxtaposing 'the grand style of tragic declamation and religious exhortation
77
Such studies include Alvin Keraan's The Cankered Muse: Satire of the English Renaissance ( N e w
Haven, 1959); O. J. Campbell's Comical] Satyre and Shakespeare's Troilus and Cressida (San
Marino, 1959); and Richard McCabe's 'Elizabethan Satire and the Bishops' Ban of 1599', Yearbook
of English Studies vol. 11 (1981), pp. 188-93.
78
Kernan, Cankered Muse, p. 62.
79
Campbell, Comicall Satyre, pp. 15-20.
80
Anthony Caputi, John Marston, Satirist (Ithaca, 1961), p p . 30-6; Steven R. Shelburne, 'Principled
Satire: Decorum in John Marston's The Metamorphosis ofPigmalions Image and Certaine Satyres',
Studies in Philology vol. 86 (1989), pp. 212-8.
81
Richard A. McCabe, Joseph Hall: a Study in Satire and Meditation (Oxford, 1982), p. 40.
. . . with a gamut of non-poetic styles ranging from the colloquial to the obscene and
the grotesque', resulting in 'an unprecedented mixture of incongruous elements
jostling in an unstable and restless state of interaction'.82 While Selden sees Marston
as mainly Juvenalian in tone, the mixed style of his work, and its lack of a unified
point of view,, give it a somewhat Menippean character.
The continuing strength of the Menippean genre, especially among
intellectuals, is suggested by the fact that Hall chose to use it in his second work,
Mundus Alter et Idem (London, 1605). This Latin prose satire, written at Cambridge
and probably not meant for publication, describes a journey to the imaginary (but
scientifically predicted) southern landmass, Terra Australia Incognita. The narrator,
a scholar from Cambridge or Oxford, describes to his audience the countries he has
travelled through, which are all allegorical places representing European vices.
McCabe describes the satire as intended for a 'closed academic circle', with much of
its humour depending on 'scholarly allusion and complicated philology'. The text
is scattered with quotations from classical authors, and is presented as though it were
a scholarly edition, being annotated, indexed, and accompanied by maps and glosses
of place names. The satire derides the foolishness of human nature from a Christian
perspective, being concerned not only with vices, such as gluttony, but also with
what Hall sees as the ungodly practices of the Catholic church, such as belief in
Purgatory and the intercessory power of the Virgin Mary and the saints. Systems of
education in each of the countries visited are also described, in what McCabe calls a
'burlesque . . . upon the contemporary system of classical education'. This was
appropriate for the academic setting of the satire, and follows the Menippean
tradition of undermining the dominant philosophy by making it ridiculous. McCabe
argues that Hall was not attacking the classical educational system in this burlesque
treatment of it, but to do so is to ignore the implications of Hall's choice of satiric
form. Like the earlier humanist scholars of the Renaissance, Hall was writing in an
overtly academic manner, for an erudite, academic audience. By introducing the
educational system into his satire, for whatever reason, he brings it into a chaotic,
iconoclastic world where seemingly stable and reasonable philosophies are mocked
and undermined: it cannot be exempt from this process. Like Erasmus' Moriae
Encomium, Hall's Mundus was misunderstood by a section of its erudite audience.
John Milton took the opportunity presented by Hall's early writing to attack him
during the Smectymnuan controversy, calling the Mundus 'that universal! foolery'.85
82
Raman Selden, English Verse Satire 1590-1765 (London, 1978), p. 55.
McCabe, Joseph Hall, p. 77.
84
Ibid, p. 78.
85
Milton, An Apology Against a Pamphlet call'd A Modest Confutation; cited in McCabe, Joseph
Hall, p. 337.
83
21
20
Apparently .iilton did not believe Hall's satire had any moral purpose, comparing
the work unfavourably with More's Utopia and Bacon's New Atlantis}6
Recently, critics have questioned the influence satirists such as Hall, Marston,
Skelton, Guilpin and their contemporaries had on later early-modern satirists.8'
When citing his English satirical predecessors, Dryden mentions only one
Elizabethan verse satirist - John Donne.88 Angela Wheeler claims that Donne's
SO
satires marked 'the rise of formal verse satire in Elizabethan England'. Also an
Inns-of-Court satirist, Donne writes in the Horatian style; though, as M. Thomas
Hester has pointsd out, his satiric persona is 'a speaker of Christian zeal' rather than
a Roman satirist's ranting or mocking narrator.90 Although Donne finds many of the
same targets for his satire as his Roman predecessors, such as boring fops (Sat. i) or
corrupt lawyers (Sat. n), the resulting poems are profoundly different, as he attempts
to reconcile his satirist's desire to castigate with his Christian duty to love.
In his first satire, Donne's speaker is a scholar, who prefers his favourite
philosophers to the 'fondling motley humorist' (1. 1) who has invaded his study.
Eventually, in an inversion of Horace's satire about his encounter with a bore (l.ix),
the scholar accompanies the foppish courtier out into the streets, even though he
knows the courtier will probably abandon him for more congenial company.
Managing to keep the courtier with him, the scholar is shown all the fantasticallydressed and insinuating men on the street, until finally the courtier leaves him to visit
his mistress, out of whose house he is later thrown by a group of her lovers. He
returns to the scholar's study to recover from his wounds, and the scholar gives him
shelter. Throughout the poem the two characters are contrasted, to the detriment of
the fop. However, the scholarly character also seems foolish, or at least naive, when
he allows himself to be drawn out of his study, and even more, when he takes the fop
back in after having been abandoned by him in the streets. As Hester argues, this is
Donne's idea of the Christian's, and especially the Christian scholar's, duty. The
Christian scholar must leave his study and enter the world to act out God's love knowledge alone is not sufficient.91 Read in this way, the satire can also be seen as a
comment on the lives of scholars who spend all their time closeted in their studies.
They need to engage with people like the fop in order to exercise their compassion.92
Donne's second satire deals with words - specifically the problem of their
misuse in the service of men's greed. Again, this is a subject of particular
importance to scholars, because words are their intellectual property, as well as the
property of poets and lawyers such as 'Coscus', whom Donne attacks. Coscus, who
is an amateur poet, is able to manipulate laws so that he is named as the heir of
estates to which he has no real claim. Donne sees this crime as having implications
for the whole country, because the traditional order of rural society is broken when an
uncaring, irresponsible landlord tries to squeeze as much money as possible from
these ill-gotten estates. The satirist's role here is ambiguous. To effect change he
must attack wrongdoers with words, the best weapons available to him, but in the
process he risks becoming like Coscus, who abuses words for his own profit.
Donne's satires are ostensibly written with the purpose of reform. Although
they do attack individuals, the individuals are representative of types, rather than
being specific people. The satires reflect on the corruption and frivolity of the court,
and the effect of this on late Elizabethan society. However, the persona of the satirist
is presented ambiguously. The scholar of the first satire is forced out of his study,
which is described as a prison and a coffin (1. 4), and into the world. Both he and his
unwanted companion benefit from the experience, and it is demonstrated that the
truth is not always to be found in books, hi the second satire, words themselves are
called into question, because they are so often used to manipulate people. Words
may no longer have the power to 'move Love by rimes' (1. 17), as they did when
people believed in witchcraft, but it was still possible for a man's death sentence to
be commuted to a lesser punishment if he could read a verse of the Psalms.93
Donne's authority as a poet, especially a satiric poet, is undermined by his contention
that words cannot be trusted. While this can be read as a Christian sermon on the
ultimate futility of worldly knowledge, it is also a reflection on the position a scholar
holds in society, and on the nature of scholarship. Like the earlier erudite writers of
satire, Donne uses the form to question the legitimacy of his own place in the world,
even while he demonstrates the folly of other spheres of human activity. His
audience of learned men like himself could be expected to interpret the poems in
both ways, giving them a dual purpose of alerting the reader to his own moral flaws,
as well as those of society.
86
McCabe, Joseph Hall, p. 92.
Works of John Dryden, Vol. IV, pp. 522-4. Cleveland's poetry, however, was still recognisably in
the Hall/Marston tradition.
88
Dryden, Discourse, pp.6-7, 78. Dryden's praise for Donne's wit is tempered by dislike of his style.
89
Wheeler, English Verse Satire, p. 33.
90
M. Thomas Hester, Kinde Pitty and Brave Scorn: John Donne's Satyres (Durham, 1982) p. 15
91
Ibid., p. 21.
The contrast between the scholar's and the courtier's life (or in another guise, between the
contemplative and the active life) is a recurring theme, with satires written in support of both sides.
87
Restoration satire
Dryden begins his conclusions con; ?ming satire by stating that the 'nicest and most
delicate touches of Satire consJsf in fine Raillery', and that the Earl of Dorset, to
93
John Donne: the Satires, Epigrams and Verse Letters ed. W. Milgate (Oxford, 1967), p. 130.
22
whom the Discourse is dedicated, has that talent.94 It is easy, he says, to call a man
'Rogue and Villain'; more difficult 'to make a man appear a Fool, a Blockhead, or a
Knave, without using any of those opprobrious terms' (p. 70). It is worth trying to
write in this way, though, because the effect is much finer than that of simple abuse.
The victim, although he feels all the sting of what is said, cannot take offence if he is
portrayed cleverly. Dryden gives as an example the character of Zimri in his own
Absalom and Achitophel, which he says is 'ridiculous enough', but the target 'was
too witty to resent it as an injury' (p. 71).
could be made (not dissimilar to the tactics of modern tabloid journalism) illustrate
how little Restoration court satire had to do with the general attacks on vice common
to earlier satires. Rather, like a modern tabloid, it was concerned above all with
current affairs and the dissemination of scandalous news. In this respect it resembles
the libels sung in local taverns or written out and dispersed throughout a town, which
were meant to denigrate the character of a specific person by referring to specific,
often verifiable events, and meant for the consumption of the victim as well as his or
her neighbours.
These few statements make a good introduction to the ethos of Restoration
Court satire. Dryden's emphasis on wit, in opposition to mere name-calling, reflects
both the common call for wit in poetry, and the more common recourse to
'opprobrious terms'. Whether or not it was true, his claim that the Duke of
Buckingham was 'too witty' to feel injured by his portrayal as Zimri reflects the
culture in which this type of satire operated. Satirists and victims were part of the
same social world. Harold Love characterises Restoration satire as topical and
clandestine.95 It was written about contemporaries, rather than type-figures, and the
language was everyday. Gone are the virtuous, philosophical or everyman narrating
figures - instead, the Restoration satirist is often a debauchee, usually a drinker and a
lecher, whose personality dominates the poem. For court wits, satire was an
accomplishment to be displayed. Love argues that most lampoons were composed
for immediate consumption, sometimes to attack an enemy, occasionally for
instruction, often simply to entertain in a witty manner.96
Reactions to satirical attacks of this kind were various, as we might expect.
Dryden claims in his Discourse that he does not respond to his libellers in kind. To
respond, would be to validate their attacks by giving them legitimate status as satire.
Instead, as William Frost says, the writers remain unnamed - with the implication
that they are 'nameless because their writings are now forgotten'.100 Other victims
were not so pacific though, and many court satirists took care to remain anonymous or pretended to. Apart from the likelihood of literary or social repercussions, violent
physical attacks on satirists were not unknown. Li one famous incident in 1679,
Dryden was attacked by three men as he was returning home from Will's
coffeehouse. At the time, he was widely thought to have been the author of
Mulgrave's 'Essay upon Satire', of which Lord says 'no omnibus satire of the time
could have been more offensive to more powerful people' - among them, the king,
the duchess of Portsmouth, Rochester and Shaftesbury.101 Contemporaries assumed
the attack was motivated by revenge for the satire, and suspected Rochester and/or
Portsmouth to be the instigator.102 Rochester, though, in a letter to Henry Savile a
J. H. Wilson identifies the high point of Court satire production as the period
between 1679 and the end of Charles IPs reign, He suggests that fewer Court satires
were written during the reign of James II because 'with the breaking up of the
Restoration coterie, the poets were losing both subject matter and audience'.57
Satirist, victim and onlooker were interchangeable roles in the Court community.
Wilson describes satirists' frequent use of nicknames or epithetical names for their
victims, and brief or cryptic topical references - both of which assume the existence
of a knowledgeable primary audience.98 Wilson also describes the methods used by
some satirists to gather material: Rochester is said to have planted a footman (in
disguise) to watch at night the doors of ladies he suspected of'intrigues'; others sent
spies about the town.99 Efforts of this kind to collect the stuff from which satires
94
Dryden, Discourse, p. 70.
Love, 'Rochester and the Traditions of Satire', p. 145.
96
Ibid., pp. 145-6.
97
John Harold Wilson, Court Satires of the Restoration (Columbus, 1976), p. xii.
98
Ibid., p. xix.
99
Ibid., p. xv.
95
month earlier, adopts a tone of detached amusement on the subject of the satire:
I have sent you herewith a libel in which my own share is not the least. The King having
perused it is no ways dissatisfied with his. The author is apparently Mr
, his patron
my
, having a panegyric in the midst, upon which happened a handsome quarrel
between his L , and Mrs B at the Duchess of P ['s]. She called him the hero of
the libel and complimented him upon having made more cuckolds than any man alive, to
which he answered she very well knew one he never made nor never cared to be
employed in the making. 'Rogue!' and 'Bitch!' ensued, till the King . . . became the
100
William Frost, 'Dryden's Theory and Practice of Satire' in Dryden's Mind and Art ed. Bruce King
(Edinburgh, 1969), p. 193. The authors of more serious texts could also be immortalised or effaced
depending on whether or not they were noticed by their antagonists: Swift's example is the
'Answerers' of John Eachard's Grounds and Occasions of the Contempt of the Clergy, 'whose
Memory if [Eachard] had not kept alive by his Replies, it would now be utterly unknown that he were
ever answered at alV (Jonathan Swift, A Tale of a Tub ed. A. C. Guthkelch and D. Nichol Smith
(Oxford, 1958), p. 9).
101
'"' Poems on Affairs of State Vol. I: 1660-1678 ed. G. DeF. Lord (New Haven and London, 1963),
....396-413.
102
Lord cites Wood's notice of the incident in his life of George Villiers, second Duke of Buckingham
{Athenae Oxonienses, vol. IV, col. 210).
25
24
i
1 flR
103
made Horace well-bred in manner would have given him elegance of style'.
peace-maker.
Dryden is particularly interested in the relationships of poets with those in power. He
Rochester, and (in his account) the king, retain their equanimity in the face of a large
'share' of the attack.104 In contrast, Lord Mulgrave reacts poorly to Mrs Bulkely's
accusation that, in order to disguise his share in its authorship, he had himself
arranged to be libelled in the poem (but in a form that was actually flattering). Those
of the court who were not present at the Duchess of Portsmouth's would soon have
come to hear of the contretemps. A second letter (from Colonel Edward Cooke to
the Duke of Ormonde) adds another dimension to the situation.
. . . just before the King came in a most scurrilous, libellous copy of verse was read,
severe upon almost all the courtiers save my Lord Mulgrave . . . This brought him under
suspicion to be (if not guilty of the making, yet) guilty of being privy to the making of
them, who just coming in with the King, Mrs Buckley saluted him (in raillery) by the
name of cuckold-maker, who taking it in earnest replied
In Cooke's account, the king is given a prominent, though silent, part in the
proceedings. If we accept that much of the courtiers' manoeuvring was directed
towards improving their status with the king, his presence may have influenced Mrs
Bulkely's attack, and Mulgrave's response. The public reading of the poem at a
gathering of courtiers demonstrates the ambiguous status of this kind of verse though damaging, it was also amusing, and food for gossip and, in this case, more
scandal.106
In the culture of the Restoration court, satire was used to broadcast, rather
than chastise, sins. The court satirists themselves were sinners - and often created
satiric personae who resembled them in this, if not in other ways. Their personae are
vivid characters, usually placed in the midst of the action in their satires. Dryden's
interest in the satirist as a person, which Frost has pointed out, may be a response to
this new emphasis on the satiric spokesperson.107 Dryden links Horace's education,
and Dorset's natural genius, with their satirical productions. As John Fowler has
pointed out, he also links poets' social circumstances with their poetical style: 'What
103
The Letters of John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester ed. Jeremy Treglown (Oxford, 1980), pp. 232-34.
Treglown identifies the quarrel's participants as Lord Mulgrave (the real author of the satire) and Lady
Sophia Bulkely, and the scene as the Duchess of Portsmouth's apartment at court. Edward L. Saslow
discusses Rochester's letter in the context of the attack on Dryden in 'The Rose Alley Ambuscade',
Restoration vol. 26 (2002), pp. 27-49.
104
Rochester may have been saving his spleen for a satiric response. We must also keep in mind
Rochester's close friendship with Henry Savile. His letters to Savile are generally written in a
mocking, self-deprecating tone which would preclude any violent expressions of anger on this
occasion.
105
Quoted in Treglown, Letters, p. 233.
106
Love discusses the transmission, occasion and function of Restoration court satires in 'Hamilton's
Memoires de la Vie du Comte de Grammont and the Reading of Rochester', Restoration vol. 19
(1995), pp. 95-102.
107
Frost, 'Dryden's Theory and Practice', pp. 192-3.
himself had been close to the source of power during the reigns of Charles II and
James n, but by the time he was writing the Discourse his position had been stripped
from him.
Dryden refers to his changed circumstances in the course of an
explanation of why he had never written an epic poem on the subject of Edward the
Black Prince, which he was discouraged from doing because Charles II would not
assist him financially.109
The Romans, Dryden claims, used the word satire 'for those Discourses
which decry'd Vice, or expos'd Folly', and 'for others also, where Virtue was
if
recommended'. In his own times, however, it was applied 'only to invective Poems,
where the very Name of Satire is formidable to those Persons, who wou'd appear to
the World, what they are not in themselves' (p. 48). His description emphasises the
idea that contemporary satire served one social function in particular, the unmasking
!
of hypocrites. Perhaps this reflects Dryden's opinion of the most common vice or
folly of the times. Nevertheless, ascribing to satirists the duty of exposing the
deviation of appearances from reality indicates how powerful they could be within
his society.
The extent to which they used their power as Dryden envisaged,
however, is questionable. As we have seen, most satires served only to muddy the
waters of social interaction, uncovering the shady dealings of some, but creating new
masks (of pleasant and unpleasant aspect) for others.
Conclusion
While this discussion only begins to chart the myriad permutations of satire in earlymodern society, it demonstrates that satire was recognised both as a specific formal
genre and as a protean mode of writing in which the spirit of malice attacked
legitimate and illegitimate targets alike. In its formal guise, it was discovered,
rediscovered and reinvented by different writers throughout the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries, who gave the distant voices of Roman and Greek satirists and
epigrammatists a new setting. The voices of their wrangling village neighbours
provided a livelier model fr- the composers of ballads or libels.
While it is difficult • c> generalise about the ways in which seventeenth-century
erudite satirists responded to their satiric heritage, the following chapters will show
that individual satirists used different models to perform different tasks. The satyrsatirist makes the occasional brief appearance, though more for dramatic or comic
effect than in the expectation of doing real harm. Writers whose subject was
108
109
Fowler, 'Dryden and Literary Good-breeding', p. 228.
Dryden, Discourse, p. 23.
27
26
universal rather than particular, such as those lamenting the scholars' poor lot,
slipped into complaint mode. Most satirists, though, were writing for a specific
occasion, or in response to a perceived insult or amusing incident. They used the
conventions of the verse libeller, but inserted more intellectual jokes, puns, and
specific cultural references. Like Erasmus and other Renaissance humanists, they
explored the Menippean tradition of satire, especially when writing about philosophy
or the nature of learning. If writing for a wider audience than their fellow-eruditi,
satirists could demonstrate a virtuosic grasp of vituperative invective, such as that
aimed at the Parliamentary visitors at Oxford in 1648. However, most of the satires
in this study were written for erudite consumption. As such, erudite satirists showed
a great appreciation of the possible functions for satire within a small community.
Unlike village ballad-composers, erudite satirists were not merely concerned with
castigation and shame. As we will see, gentle mockery could be used to include
members in the community. Later erudite satirists, such as those delivering satirical
speeches at university graduation ceremonies, showed their awareness of the
operation of satire within the town and court societies, and to a certain extent their
productions imitated those of their titled brethren in their exposure of social
indiscretions and reinforcement of behavioural norms.
Over the course of time, there was a move towards a greater focus on the
speaker's place within the satiric text. In complaint texts, the speaker's presence was
only half realised - he was little more than a mouthpiece for a series of observations
about the world. The rise of individualism during the Renaissance, as charted by
Greenblatt, was mirrored by the rise of the satiric persona. Satirical attacks became
more and more specifically tied to time, place and social circumstances, of the satirist
as well as the victims. With this in mind, we will turn to one particular set of social
circumstances, and look at conditions at the pre-eminent intellectual institutions of
early-modern Britain, the universities of Oxford and Cambridge. In the following
chapter I will give a brief account of university life in seventeenth-century England,
and suggest some ways in which their university training influenced erudite satirists.
2. The institutional context of earlv-modern erudite satire
In the Year 1652, Declamations were appointed in the Natural Philosophy School in the
Place of Wall Lectures. About which time one Best, A. B. of Baliol being to declaim in
the Tub or Pew where those that are to be examined stand, began thus: Florent.
Academici licet hie sum Diogenes in Dolio, tamen non Doleo quod ita sum. He
pretended to be very careless of what he said, and conceiv'd it to be great Wit, but many
of the seniors laugh'd at him, and one flung at him an old Shoe.1
Although the experiences of individual scholars at the early universities certainly
differed, depending on their institution, economic status, religious affiliations,
proposed career path, and scholastic temperament, nevertheless there were some
aspects of university life common to all.2 Living in colleges or halls meant that all
university men were part of a smaller society with its own set of traditions, rivalries
and friendships. While there seems to have been a certain amount of latitude in the
subjects studied, teaching and assessment methods were common to all students.3
The formalities and entertainments enacted on various corporate university occasions
involved all the young scholars and Fellows, either as participants or audience. By
briefly describing these shared aspects of university life, I hope to give some idea of
the institutional environments in which much erudite satire was produced and
consumed.
1
Wood, Modus Salium (Oxford, 1751), p. 30.
While there were certainly local differences between Oxford and Cambridge, the institutions were
similar enough that accounts of everyday university life and academic instruction at one can
reasonably be applied to the other. I have drawn examples from both universities in this discussion,
and noted differences in customs where they are relevant.
3
Some scholars of higher social status may have taken part in only a small number of public
disputations, but were still required to fulfil certain exercises for their degrees. See, for example,
Symonds D'Ewes's account of his career at Cambridge (The Autobiography and Correspondence of
Sir Simonds D'Ewes ed. James O. Halliwell (London, 1845), pp. 121-2, 138). Of course, many
undergraduates had no intention of completing their degrees, treating a relatively brief period at
university as a kind of finishing school or as preparation for entering one of the Inns of Court.
2
29
28
factors encouraged solidarity among fellow-collegians, and the sense that their
college was a unique and semi-autonomous unit within the wider university.
University life
The early-modern universities were, above all, collegial environments. James
McConica has described in detail the development of halls and colleges out of
medieval religious establishments in Tudor Oxford.4 By the end of the sixteenth
century, the college had become a fundamental part of the university, and all scholars
were required to reside at an official college or hall. These houses varied in
character and size according to the terms of their foundation, but they all provided a
similar teaching and living environment for their inmates. College statutes governed
every part of the society's organisation and conduct, including diet, recreation,
interaction with the townspeople, study, and religious observance. All members of
the college, from Fellows to servants, were nominally under the jurisdiction of the
head, and scholars, especially undergraduates, were expected to spend most of their
time within college.5 All undergraduate scholars were settled with a tutor, usually a
Fellow of the college, who provided moral and financial, as well as academic,
guidance, and often shared a room with his charges. This close contact meant that
some tutors influenced their pupils very strongly, particularly since the scholar's
course of study was largely determined by his tutor.6 The closeness of their living
arrangements and uniformity of their activities meant that members of the university
developed strong ties to their colleges. Individual colleges and halls often had a
strongly regional composition: Jesus College at Oxford, for example, had a higher
concentration of Welshmen than, other houses. Other colleges developed religious
affiliations which set them apart from the rest of the university.7 Links between
colleges and particular grammar schools (such as those of New College, Oxford,
with Winchester, or King's College, Cambridge, with Eton) meant that boys from
these schools could enter a college along with their former schoolmates. All these
4
James McConica, 'The Rise of the Undergraduate College' and 'Elizabethan Oxford: the Collegiate
Society' in The History of the University of Oxford, Vol. Ill: The Collegiate University ed. James
McConica (Oxford, 1986).
5
McConica, 'Collegiate Society', p. 656.
6
The role of the tutor was important enough for many fathers to take a hand in arranging a suitable
man to guide their son through the pitfalls of university life: Edward, Lord Herbert of Cherbury,
suggested a 'governor for manners' go with young gentlemen to university (The Autobiography of
Edward, Lord Herbert of Cherbury ed. Sidney Lee, 2nd ed. (London, [1906]), p. 25). Richard Bentley
accompanied James Stillingfleet, whose private tutor he had been, to Wadham College in 1689 (James
Henry Monk, The Life of Richard Bentley, 2 vols. (2nd ed. 1833; repr. Osnabruck, 1969), pp. 18-19).
See also Stephen Porter, 'University and Society' in Histoiy of Oxford, Vol. IV, pp. 67-9; and Sarah
Bendall et al., A History of Emmanuel College, Cambridge (Woodbridge, 1999), pp. 60-2.'
Cambridge's Emmanuel College was notorious for its Puritan leanings (Bendall et al, History of
Emmanuel, pp. Ml-226); during the early part of the century (under Laud's influence) St. John's
College, Oxford, was a High Church stronghold.
These bonds were deliberately cultivated during the newly-matriculated
scholars' first residence in college society. Anthony Wood recalls one of his own
early experiences in college, an occasion called a 'salting', which seems to have been
common to several Oxford and Cambridge colleges, at least in the earlier part of the
century.9
In Wood's account of proceedings at Merton College, older
undergraduates made the freshmen stand on 'a forme' placed on the high table in the
college hall and make a burlesque speech in front of the assembled undergraduates
and servants. The seniors rewarded the wittiest of the freshmen's speeches with 'a
cup of caudle' (hot, spiced wine), indifferent speeches with a cup of caudle and
another of salted beer, and dull ones with salted beer and 'tucks' - scratches made
with the thumb nail between the lower lip and chin.10 Wood describes how each
freshmen had to 'pluck off his gowne and band, and . . . make himself look like a
scoundrell' before making his speech.
I
After the speeches and rucking was
concluded, the senior cook administered a burlesque oath over an old shoe.
The speeches themselves seem to have been intended as an introduction of
the freshmen into undergraduate college society. Roslyn Richek describes Thomas
Randolph's salting which took place at Cambridge in 1627.11 On this occasion, one
i
or two of the older scholars took the part of the 'Father', arid introduced their 'sons',
the newly matriculated members of the college, in a witty verse speech.
An
important feature of the salting was the giving of new, humorous names to each of
the scholars by their Father.12 In the case of Randolph's salting, the new scholars
were designated as different dishes at a feast, with jokes or anecdotes relating to their
8
Historically, colleges and halls had been even more tightly bonded units: see, for example, Leader's
description of the battles between medieval colleges and hostels (History of the University of
Cambridge, Vol. I, pp. 46-7). Of course, the more-or-less united fronts turned by colleges to the
outside world did not necessarily reflect perfect internal harmony - as we shall see.
9
Alan Nelson lists four texts of Cambridge saltings (Records of Early English Drama: Cambridge ed.
Alan H. Nelson (Toronto, 1989), vol. II, pp. 996-7). Elizabeth Ann Perryman Friedberg identifies
another in Certain Small Festivities: the Texts and Contexts of Thomas Randolph's Poems and
Cambriage Entertainments, 2 vols. (unpublished PhD dissertation, Cambridge University, 1994). No
existing texts of Oxford saltings have been positively identified, although Bodleian MS Rawl. D. 399
contains an English prose speech which introduces freshmen in the style of a salting (ff. 244r-245l).
10
Wood, Life and Times, vol. I, pp. 140-1. The first Earl of Shaftesbury describes a similar tradition
at Exeter College, Oxford: 'a foolish custom of great antiquity that one of the seniors in the evening
called the freshmen . . . to the fire and made them hold out their chin, and they with the nail of their
right thumb, left long for that purpose, grate off all the skin from the lip to the clu'n, and then cause
them to drink a beer glass of water and salt' (Reminiscences of Oxford by Oxford Men 1559-1850 ed.
Lilian M. Quiller Couch (Oxford, 1892), p. 37).
11
Roslyn Richek, 'Thomas Randolph's Salting (1627), its Text, and John Milton's Sixth Prolusion as
Another Salting', English Literar}' Renaissance vol. 12 (1982), pp. 102-31. See also John Hale,
'Milton Plays the Fool: the Christ's College Salting, 1628', Classical and Modem Literature vol. 20
(2000), pp. 51-70.
12
Richek, 'Thomas Randolph's Salting1, p. 109.
31
30
personalities or exploits. Elizabeth Freidberg describes what seem to have been the
common factors of salting ceremonies. The 'father' and 'sons' designation is
constant; the sons were named, often in a manner which included them as part of a
larger metaphorical body (for example, the feast); the sons gave their responses;
fellow commoners and other distinguished freshmen were treated with respect and
only mildly teased; and anecdotes were told about the freshmen.13
resemblances between Timothy Raylor's description of behaviour in early-
As Freidberg has pointed out, the elements involved in saltings parody the
formal ceremonies in which the scholars were admitted as bachelors of arts. She
notes similar initiations at the European universities, which involved elements such
as sawing off a freshman's 'horns', cutting his hair and fingernails, giving him a
beard with a burnt cork, and administering (internally or externally) salt or wine.
The point is the figurative transformation of a wild freshman into a civilized member
of college society.14 This is especially apparent in the content of 'Sr Gouldsmith his
Exercise at the salting of his Fresh men at Trinitie Colledg in Cambridg', in which
the foolish activities of various freshmen are recounted, gently mocking their
ignorance of academic life.15
a better-than-usual dinner (called a 'gaudy') in the college hall, often accompanied
These initiation ceremonies were designed to develop loyalties among the
freshman cohort, and between this group and the older scholars. Richard Jenkins
suggests that the initiation ordeal rationalises the recruitment of members to
organisations: 'As ritual, it dramatises and authenticates the achievement of
membership, both for the recruit and for her or his new colleagues. In this sense it
contributes to both internal and external identification'.16 The salting served to
introduce new scholars into the college society, but at the same time established
something of a 'pecking order' within the society. The combative nature of the
performance was a foretaste of what the new students might encounter in their daily
scholarly exertions. However, the fact that the mockery was usually gentle suggests
that it served to enhance members' sense of belonging to a privileged and exclusive
society, rather than simply ridiculing the freshmen. As Christian Gutleben argues,
the personal mockery which takes place at saltings is 'tinged with the sense of elitist
approbation and the satiric vanishes into convivial comedy'.17 Some striking
13
Freidberg, Certain Small Festivities, vol. I, pp. 40-45.
Ibid., vol. I, p. 25. See also Hastings Rashdall, The Universities of Europe in the Middle Ages 3
vols. (Oxford, 1936), vol. Ill, p. 380: Rainer A. Miiller, 'Student Education, Student Life' in A History
of the University in Europe, Vol. II: Universities in Early Modern Europe ed. Hilde de RidderSymoens (Cambridge, 1996), pp. 349-50; and Sten Lindroth, A History of Uppsala University 14771977 trans. Neil Tomkinson (Uppsala, 1976), pp. 84-5.
15
British Library Add. MS 52585, ff. 44v-53r. The salting dates from 1597 (Nelson, REED
Cambridge, p. 996).
Jenkins, Social Identity, p. 151. On initiation rituals see also pp. 144-6.
Christian Gutleben, 'English Academic Satire from the Middle Ages to PostmodernismDistinguishing the Comic from the Satiric' in Theorizing Satire, p. 137. Gutleben argues that because
they were performed privately for a privileged group of initiates and consisted of ironic self-parody, in
14
seventeenth-century London literary clubs, and the proceedings at college saltings.,
suggest that this type of burlesque mockery was used for the same purposes in
1R
different social contexts.
Other college performances were not quite so rowdy, though still containing
elements of play or aggression. Special events or anniversaries were celebrated with
by the recitation of occasional verses.19 At other times, scholars would dispute or
give an oration before their college peers. Some college statutes required special
exercises from their scholars, which could take a quite elaborate form. Newlyincepted masters at Merton College, for example, took part in 'variations'. The
'Variator' spoke three Latin speeches on philosophical questions, 'opposing
Aristotle'. He was answered by 'the three Deans', who opposed him in defence of
Aristotle, and disputed the questions with him. John Pointer says the
Declamations and Disputations were amicably concluded with a magnificent and
expensive Supper, the Charges of which formerly came to 1 0 0 / . . . The Vice-chancellor
and Proctors, and several Heads of Houses, besides the Warden and the whole College,
made up the Audience at this solemn time.20
Occasions such as this were not necessarily as dusty as the emphasis on Aristotle
might suggest. Of the variation questions recorded in the Merton College Register,
George C. Brodrick reports:
At first, metaphysical and logical questions predominate; but there is a large admixture
of ethical questions, and a few bearing on natural philosophy. At the end of the
sixteenth and throughout the seventeenth century, politics enter largely into the field of
disputation; while in the eighteenth century a mere discursive and Literary tone of
thought makes itself clearly felt.21
No doubt these changes reflect the changing attitudes and interests of many
university men, as well as many Englishmen. The small, semi-private audience at
these college entertainments 'self-mockery becomes self-flattery and the satiric becomes panegyric'
(p. 136).
Raylor's club-men were enthusiastic drinkers, produced impromptu nonsense-verses which were
graded by their wittiness (determining the seating arrangements at their meetings), and designated an
older member as 'father', who was expected to give literary support to his 'sons'. Raylor characterises
the clubs as societies of like-minded (sometimes disaffected) young men bonded against the outside
world {Cavaliers, Clubs, and Literary Culture: Sir John Mennes, James Smith, and the Order of the
Fancy (Newark, 1994), pp. 84,102-3).
19
For example, All Souls College celebrated All Souls' Day with a gaudy (Montagu Burrows,
Worthies of All Souls: Four Centuries of English History Illustrated from the College Archives
(London, 1874),j»p. 154-5).
20
John Pointer, Oxoniensis Academia (London, 1749), pp. 18-19. Wood records that on July 8th, 1680,
'Mr. <John> Conant varied, A great entertainment in the gallery: broad tables set upon purpose: eight
ven<ison> past<ies>, above 100 guests, and musick-the like not knowne in our College' (Life and
Times, vol. II, p. 490).
21
George C. Brodrick, 'Merton College' in The Colleges of Oxford: Their Histoiy and Traditions ed.
Andrew Clark (London, 1891), p. 73.
33
32
a particular student.25 Nevertheless, there were parts of the curriculum common to
Merton College may have allowed sensitive issues to be aired more freely there than
in the schools or the pulpit at St. Mary's. Occasions such as these must have
moulded the political or religious inclinations of young scholars in ways that could
persist over a lifetime. College communities also nursed literary and theatrical
talents. Aside from the lavish performances staged for visiting dignitaries, colleges
produced smaller-scale events for their own enjoyment. George Vernon records that
Peter Heylyn gained the good opinions of his contemporaries at Magdalen College,
Oxford, 'by Composing an English Tragedy, called Spurius; which was so well
approved of by some learned persons of that Foundation, that the President caused it
to be privately acted in his own Lodgings'.22
Once integrated into their own particular college society, scholars' everyday
lives were largely taken up with college tuition and college affairs. Anthony Wood's
voluminous diaries and notes, which cover the minutiae of Oxford life from alehouse
visits to royal visitors, demonstrate the importance of college events and connections
even to a reclusive scholar such as Wood. His interest in the labyrinthine workings
of college and university politics, and their occasional intersections with national
politics, reflect not only his abiding passion for biography, but the influence
university officials had over the day-to-day activities of scholars. In Wood's
university, vice-chancellors were more than corporate administrators, and the
personalities or doctrines of college heads could make a deep impact on scholars'
lives. The anxiety with which scholars regarded the wives of college heads is
revealing. In 1671, Thomas Good wrote to the Visitor of Balliol, Bishop William
Fuller of Lincoln:
elections of officers at St Lukestide, of Fellows at St Katherinestide will be carried on
by the master (or rather by the mistresse) and her party to the great detriment of the
Colledge . . . I wish (if it may) that there were a decree made that for the future noe
master might be marryed, and that this present Lady (by your Lordships strict
iniunction) might never come within the colledge gates any more23
The intricacies of collegia! relationships were a source of gossip and contention for
the scholars, and their significance underlies much university satire.24 College
associations would also influence scholars' social interactions with the wider
university.
Much of the scholars' intellectual development also took place within
college, under the guidance of a tutor who could tailor a course quite specifically for
22
George Vernon, The Life ofthe Learned and Reverend Dr Peter Heylyn (London, 1682), p. 10.
John Jones, Balliol College: a History 1263-1939 (Oxford, 1988), p. 119. The Master in question
was Henry Savage; he had held the office since 1651, and was succeeded by Good himself in 1672.
Good did not marry.
24
Particularly that of the terrae filii and praevaricators, discussed b e l o w in chapter five.
23
all early-modern undergraduates, and it is on these that I will concentrate in the
following discussion.
Tuition
|
At Oxford, the Laudian statutes allotted time over the four years of the undergraduate
course to rhetoric, dialectic, moral philosophy, Greek, and arithmetic.26 Surviving
directions for study, however, give a slightly different picture than that suggested by
the statutes, placing a greater (and more humanist) emphasis on the wide reading of
ancient authors. As well as reading, the scholar was required to perform oral
exercises in the presence of his tutor, other students of his college, and the wider
university. If the scholar performed well enough in these exercises during the four
years of undergraduate study, he could take his Bachelor degree. He was then freed
from his tutor's intervention, and considered sufficiently equipped to carry on his
studies under his own direction. After another three years, he could choose to
undergo further exercises in order to proceed as a Master.
In his work on early-modem Cambridge, William Costello proposed that
although the curriculum was slowly assuming a more humanist tone, teaching and
assessment methods were still strongly influenced by scholasticism.27 However,
more recently Mordechai Feingold has emphasised 'the humanistic character' of the
undergraduate course to a much greater extent. Feingold argues that previous
judgements had given too much weight to the university statutes, which tended to
emphasise Aristotle's importance but gave a rather bare outline of the actual
curriculum. Equally misleading are the 'common seventeenth-century abbreviations
of the curriculum' into 'logic and philosophy', which were simply the short headings
under which many disciplines were categorised." Feingold argues that after 1600
the undergraduate curriculum consisted of a wide survey of all branches of learning,
and was very similar for all undergraduates regardless of their intended future
careers.29 As each branch of knowledge was interconnected and dependent on
25
See, for example, H. F. Fletcher's remarks in his account of Milton's education at Cambridge (The
Intellectual Development of John Milton, 2 vols. (Urbana, 1961), vol. II, p. 68).
26
Statutes, trans. Ward, i. 21-2; cited by Mordechai Feingold, "The Humanities' in Histoiy of Oxford,
Vol. IV, pp. 213-14.
27
William T. Costello, The Scholastic Curriculum at Early Seventeenth-century Cambridge
(Cambridge, 1958).
28
Feingold, 'Humanities', p. 214. Richard Tuck, however, emphasises the continuing importance of
Aristotle's works as 'the defining texts of philosophy' at colleges and universities well into the
seventeenth century ('The Institutional Setting' in The Cambridge History of Seventeenth-century
Philosophy cd. Daniel Garber and Michael Ayers with Roger A n e w and Alan Gabbey, 2 vols.
(Cambridge, 1998), p. 19).
29
Feingold points out that this position is at odds with the judgements of historians such as Loomey,
O'Day and McConica, who all, to a greater or lesser degree, see the courses pursued by the gentry and
35
34
others, the ideal was a broad erudition. The results were designed to underpin the
students' oratorical capacities, and would be as useful later in life to the nobility as
they would to a churchman or scholar.30 This means that all (or most) universityeducated men could be expected to have a store of basic knowledge in common.
AVhen erudite writers draw upon this stock of knowledge, and expect their audience
to understand them, the}' implicitly define that audience as one composed of
educated men.
Richard Holdsworth, eminent Cambridge tutor and Master of Emmanuel
College (1637-43), recommended the study of Greek and Latin authors in the first
year of an undergraduate course by claiming that without them
all the other Learning though never so eminent, is in a manner voide & useless, without
those you will be bafeld in your disputes, disgraced, & vilified in Publicke
examinations, laught at in speeches, & Declamations. You will never dare to appear in
any act of credit in ye University.. .31
I include this quotation not to illustrate the importance of ancient authors at
Cambridge and Oxford, but what Holdsworth sees as their usefulness, and in part as
the end of learning: the display of knowledge in public performance. The rhetorical
style, ease and familiarity with the Greek and Latin tongues and the store of literary
commonplaces which came with extensive reading of the ancients was not only
important in itself, but was vital if the student hoped to take his proper place in the
scholarly community. In this brief comment Holdsworth also conveys something of
the atmosphere of the early modern university. Although he may have been
attempting to frighten the young scholars into diligence, his description of the results
of academic incompetence is no less intimidating. He implies that being 'bafeld',
'disgraced and vilified' and even 'laught at' by one's fellow-scholars is a very eal
danger, giving these public exercises a distinctly adversative edge. Moreover, he
suggests that any worthwhile 'act of credit in the university' is necessarily
accompanied by public performance (from which the unfortunate neglecter of the
ancients must forever be debarred).
Holdsworth's attitude accords with those of other early modern educators.
Humanist studies were an increasingly important part of the curriculum, but these
studies were feeding into an older, more scholastic and argumentative, structure of
education. As Feingold has shown, disputations and declamations were considered
to be important pedagogical tools not only because they presented information about
nobility as lighter than those followed by scholars aiming at a career ('Humanities', pp. 216-17).
Quentin Skinner attributes Thomas Hobbes's scom of the Oxford curriculum to its scholastic nature
('Thomas Hobbes and the Renaissance Studia Humanitatis' in Writing and Political Engagement in
Seventeenth-century England ed. Derek Hirst and Richard Strier (Cambridge, 1999), p. 70.
30
Feingold,'Humanities', pp. 217-18.
31
Fletcher, Intellectual Development, vol. II, p. 637; quoted in Feingold, 'Humanities', p. 215.
I
a subject, but also because they bred an atmosphere of competitiveness. Theories of
teacliing stressed the importance of this competitive environment in spurring young
men on to greater efforts: both failure and success would be felt more keenly by
scholars who were constantly measuring themselves, and being measured, against
their peers.32 Oral exercises were also important because they were the best type of
training for rhetorical public speaking, which was still thought of as a primary goal
of education. Renaissance humanism saw Cicero's ideal orator as 'the most learned
and accomplished of all human beings'; on a more practical level, good rhetorical
skills were essential for those intending to deliver sermons for a living.33 It can be
argued, then, that early-modern university education was characterised, to a great
extent, by competition and display. Indeed, it is sometimes difficult to decide from
scholars' recollections whether they believed that these were modes used to advance
knowledge, or that knowledge was gained as an aid to the pursuit of these ends.
Regardless of individual scholars' levels of enthusiasm for such methods of
instruction, it is indisputable that any university-educated man would see
competition, display and learning as closely linked. This has ramifications for many
forms of early-modern cultural production. University drama, poetry, sermons, prose
tracts, parliamentary speeches, and formal orations, must all be considered in terms
of this academic nexus, if their contemporary significance is to be appreciated.
As stated above, the modes of teaching in the seventeenth-century
universities had not changed dramatically since earlier times, even though the advent
of humanism had modified the curriculum. The 'disputes', 'publicke examinations'
and 'speeches and declamations' mentioned by Holdsworth loosely equate with the
exercises identified by Costello as fundamental to scholasticism: the lecture, the
disputation, and the declamation. These three exercises continued to be the main
forms of instruction and examination, and all scholars participated in them, either as
audience or speakers, at various stages throughout their university career.
Prior to the ready availability of printed books, the primary method of
disseminating information to university students was the lecture.
At both
universities, lectures were given by university professors in the public schools on
weekdays early in the morning. At Cambridge, statutes required lecturers in
theology, civil law, medicine and mathematics to read four times a week in the
schools during term, and lecturers in language, philosophy, dialectics and rhetoric to
read five times a week.34 However, it seems that these instructions were not always
32
Feingold quotes the Roman rhetorician Quintilian, Vittorino da Feltre, Vives, and the English
educator John Brinsley, all of whom endorse emulation and contest in schooling ('Humanities',
pp. 222-3).
3
- Ong, Fighting for Life,?. 126.
34
Costello, Scholastic Curriculum, p. 13
37
36
After which time the heads did consider but could not think of any way more proper
than declamation, so that wheras they were left of<f> after the king was restored and
wall lectures onlie read in their places, declamations were now setled and wall lectures
followed. In 1602 we find the Chancellor, Robert Cecil, writing to complain that
some lecturers 'reade not fowre times in the yere, as it is said'.35 Lectures were also
given within colleges, and by tutors to their own students. Though, as Feingold
argues, the content of seventeenth-century lectures was rather less scholastic than
Costello claims, nevertheless it seems that the lecture itself was still seen as an
important mode of teaching. University statutes and letters from various chancellors
continually reiterate the importance of public lectures, while drawing attention to the
deficiencies in actual practice.36
Costello demonstrates that lectures were originally structured according to the
demands of scholasticism, a system of thought which he characterises as 'dialectical,
Aristotelian, and highly systematized'.37 He argues that the nature of scholasticism
accounted for the division of subjects into a series of lectures, each of which
focussed on a small unit of the whole. The division into topics was necessitated by
the scholars' need to hear information in easily-remembered forms, but also resulted
from the Aristotelian habit of categorising things in terms of their relationship to
other things. The titles of lectures were cast in the form of questions, reflecting the
scholastics' preference for dialectic, or discussion and argument, as a means to
discover truth.38 Ong observes that 'Peter Ramus (1515-72) thought of his lectures
on the various "arts" . . . not as positive explanations of the arts themselves, which
were supposed to be limpidly clear because of the "methodized" way they were
presented, but as defenses against his adversaries, real or imagined'.39
More rhetorical than a lecture, the declamation was a student's oral response to
a topic, either supporting or denying a proposition. Declamations were written on a
wide variety of topics, and delivered in the presence of a tutor or a larger group of
students. They were probably the exercise most often performed by undergraduates,
similar to today's written essay.40 More advanced scholars continued to give
declamations, though: Wood records that in 1662 convocation read a letter from the
chancellor which enquired
. . . 'whether it might not be of some use to impose some exercise in Rhetorick to be
performed by the Bac. of A. before they take the degree of Mr., and whether the
enjoyning them to make some public declamation in the Schooles might not be an
exercise verie sutable to that season of their studies' etc.
35
Ibid., p. 12.
Costello quotes several (Ibid., pp. 7-8).
37
,p
38
Ibid., pp. 11-14.
39
Ong, Fighting for Life, p. 127.
40
Examples abound in manuscript. Duke University MS 12-14-71 contains a series of sixty-eight short
Latin verses on classical themes, with titles such as 'Gigantes', 'Niobe', and 'Adonis' (pp. 5-19); in other
sources similar verses affirm or deny propositions such as 'An omnis sensus sit tactus?' (Bodleian MS
Eng. poet. f. 13, f. 12") and 'An feminae sint monstrae?' (Society of Antiquaries of London MS 330
f. 79*).
36
too...
41
Wood's remarks seem to indicate that there was a degree of overlap between the
perceived function of declamations and lectures. Obviously, both lectures and
declamations were seen as equally valuable for the audience and speaker.
1
Just as important an exercise was the disputation. In the absence of written or
oral question-and-answer type examinations, the academic disputation provided one
way of assessing a student's knowledge of a subject. However, disputations were
much more than this. They were an opportunity for developing rhetorical practices,
using the commonplaces collected from ancient and modern authors, and
demonstrating an agility and subtlety of thought and argument which was good
training for a career in the government, law or the church.42 They were also
excellent entertainment for the audience, and the universities acknowledged this by
regularly staging disputations in various faculties for visiting dignitaries. When
James I visited Oxford in 1605 and Cambridge in 1615 he was treated to several
disputations, and the anecdotes of witnesses attest to the interest with which he
followed proceedings.43 Successful disputants were not only able to take their
degrees, but often won the admiration of their peers, and men were appointed to
fellowships or other positions on the strength of their performances. Baker writes
that, during disputations performed for Elizabeth at Cambridge in 1564, 'no man
acquitted himself so well as Mr Hutton the respondent in divinity, to the satisfaction
and admiration of all his auditors, and it was to that day that he owed his future
preferments. The queen favoured him in her looks, her words and actions'.44 The
language used by Baker and other writers makes it clear that a clever and witty
disputant was keenly appreciated by all the scholars in the same way that a talented
musician or sportsperson is applauded by a modern audience.
In this kind of academic duel, technical competence was just as important as
thorough knowledge of a subject (a situation which contributed to the humanists'
41
Wood, Life and Times, vol. I, p. 465. 'Wall' lectures were so called because so few attended that
they were sometimes delivered to the bare walls (Athenae Oxon., vol. IV, col. 196 (life of John Fell);
Wordsworth, Social Life, pp. 315,318).
42
This, however, was questioned by opponents throughout the century, and increasingly after the
Restoration. See the parody of disputation methods in the dialogue of the two Usurpers in
Buckingham's The Rehearsal (1671), II. iv; also the earlier example in Middleton's A Chaste Maid in
Cheapside (1630) between Tim and his tutor, IV. [i].
43
See accounts in John Nichols, The Progresses, Processions, and Magnificent Festivities, of King
James the First, 4 vols. (London, 1828), vol. I, pp. 542-58, and vol. Ill, pp. 42-59, 82-91; Costello,
Scholastic Curriculum, pp. 24-6.
44
Thomas Baker, History of the College of St. John the Evangelist, Cambridge ed. J. E. B. M a y o r , 2
vols. (Cambridge, 1869), vol. I, p. 160.
39
38
and stones in their
dislike of the proceedings). Matthew Robinson, a scholar at Cambridge in 1645,
even entertain the audience with insults so that they break into applause while he is
The strength of his studies lay in the metaphysics and in those subtile authors for many
was but senior freshman he was found in the bachelor schools disputing ably with the
best of senior sophisters. . . . He had a set of inextricable arguments which few could
ever give clear resolution to, and into some of these he would in most questions easily
Who could restrain his laughter when he sees how one of
these gladiators, when reduced to desperation, will confuse the issue with shouting and
demonstrates this in his autobiography, where he says about himself:
years, which rendered him an irrefragible disputatant de guolibet ente, and whilst he
frenzy
speaking.. .? 49
Haugen notes Gassendi's 'polemical intentions'; nevertheless, it seems the
disputation was becoming a 'public and theatrical' occasion, and was regarded as
such by its spectators.50
trepan and decoy his adversary.45
Gassendi also hints at the potential for ritual aggression to descend into
Like a chess-player, Robinson relied on manoeuvring his opponents into certain
physical violence during disputations. The first Earl of Shaftesbury, who began at
situations, or lines of argument, from which they could not easily escape. Others
Oxford in 1637, describes the effects of 'coursing', or heckling of disputants by
were not so sophisticated. Wood records a humorous exchange which took place at
members of other colleges.
the 1651 Lenten disputations in Oxford:
This coursing was in older times, I believe, intended for a fair trial of learning and skill
in logic, metaphysics and school divinity, but for some ages that had been the least part
James Bricknell.. . was coursed by another Scholar, but the Scholar hammering at his
of it, the dispute quickly ending in affronts, confusion, and very often blows, when they
Arguments and unable almost to produce them, would be ever and anon crying, non ita
went most gravely to work. They forbore striking, but making a great noise with their
sed sic, sic, imoputo quod sic es, nampessime aegrotas, saith Bricknell.46
Bricknell's opponent was unable to produce any logical argument apart from flat
denial of the question, and like a cricketer who constantly blocks the ball, he irritated
both the spectators and his adversary until finally being bowled out with a welldelivered pun.47
The competitive extremes to which disputations could sometimes progress is
illustrated by Edwin Sandys's description of the practice in continental Jesuit
colleges:
I have seene them in their bare Grammaticall disputations enflame theyr schollars with
such earnestnesse and fiercenesse as to seeme to bee at the poinct of flying each in
th'others faces, to the amazement of those straungers which had never seene the like
before, but to theyr owne great content and glorie as appeared.48
This fierceness is (presumably) mainly a display of aggression meant to cow the
opponent, or distract him from his arguments. It is interesting that Sandys notes the
reaction of strangers to this performance: perhaps the display is also partly for their
benefit. They are unused to the codes of Jesuit academic conduct, and their response
to the display marks them as outsiders who cannot distinguish between ritual and
actual combat. Kristine Haugen quotes Pierre Gassendi's derisive assessment of
disputations:
Their clashes make disputations into public spectacles, so that the common people
attend as spectators, and all that matters is the urge to conquer and never give in: how
can this be a real search after truth? . . . In these public and theatrical gatherings, you
can see their minds become so fevered that they often do everything but throw sticks
45
Robinson, Autobiography of Matthew Robinson, ed. J. E. B. Mayor (Cambridge, 1856), p p . 20-1.
Wood, Modus Salium, p. 3 1 .
47
Samuel Butler satirises various shady tactics used by disputants in his character of 'A Disputant'
(Characters ed. Charles W. Daves (Cleveland and London, 1970), pp. 160-61).
48
Sandys, Europae Speculum ([London], 1629), pp. 83-4; quoted in Feingold, 'Humanities', p. 223.
46
feet, they hissed and shoved with their shoulders, and the stronger in that disorderly
order drove the other out before them, and, if the schools were above stairs, with all
violence hurrying the contrary party d o w n . . .5I
Shaftesbury's college, Exeter, mainly coursed against Christ Church. According to
Wood, it was in Lent of 1637 that 'the Students of Christ Church and those of Exeter
Coll. grew so unruly (the Masters interposing and wrangling in, and the
Undergraduats fighting out of the Schools, that the Vicechancellor was forced to
command an absolute cessation of all manner of Disputations beween the said two
Houses'.52 The slurs, as well as the rivalries, seem to have been traditional, thus
adding to the ritual nature of the occasion.53
Costello describes fully the intricacies of disputations held at Cambridge in
the seventeenth century, descriptions which can be applied equally to Oxford.54
49
Pierre Gassendi, 'Exercitationes Paradoxicae adversus Aristoteleos' in Opera Omnia (Lyon, 1658),
vol. Hi, p. 106; cited and translated by Kristine Haugen in 'Imagined Universities: Public Insult and
the Terrae Filius in Early Modern Oxford', History of Universities vol. 16 (2000), p. 14. M u c h the
same opinion of scholasticism was advanced by John Webster in his Academiarum Exatnen, or, The
Examination of Academies (London, 1654): 'Scholastick Theologie, what : . it else but a confused
Chaos, of needless, frivolous, fruitless, triviall, vain, curious, impertinent, kiotty, ungodly, irreligious,
thorny, and hel-hatc'ht disputes, altercations, doubts, questions and endless janglings' (p. 15). John
Locke attacks disputation because it aims to 'perplex the signification of Words' as part of a wider
academic program to obfuscate the truth (An Essay Concerning Humane Understanding (London,
l690) ) III.x.6ff.).
Feingold discusses disputations as entertainment in 'Humanities', pp. 302-4.
51
Life of Anthony Ashley Cooper, First Earl of Shaftesbury ed. W. D. Christie (London, 1871), vol. I,
Appendix 1; repr. in Quiller Couch, Reminiscences of Oxford, p. 36.
52
Wood, History, vol. II, p. 416.
3
W o o d notes 'Bread and Cheese for Christ Jesus sake, say the Scholars of those Colleges that use to
course Christ Church and Jesus Colleges. The former of which Colleges are great Bread Eaters, and
the other (all Wekhmen) for Cheese' (Modus Salium, p. 22).
See in particular Costello's account of an actual disputation, for which the participants' arguments
have survived in manuscript (Scholastic Curriculum, pp. 19-24).
41
40
anticipation of the battle to follow'.61 The battle properly began when, after the
answerer's settling of his father's objections, the moderator called the first, or senior,
opponent. This opponent proposes his own syllogisms, meant to introduce a line of
argument which will ultimately lead the answerer 'into a position where he may be
logically forced . . . into admitting the exact opposite of his thesis'.62 The answerer
repeated his opponent's first syllogism, then made what argument seemed most
appropriate, always using syllogisms. He argued in the same fashion against a
second opponent until the moderator signalled that their time was up, and dismissed
the answerer 'with a word or 2 in his commendation, if there be cause for it'. 63
Therefore I will repeat here only a bare outline of the proceedings. Disputations
were held in colleges, in the schools, and in public. Cambridge required its scholars
to dispute four times in the schools during their undergraduate years, 'twice as
answerer or defendant, twice as objector'.55 These disputations for the degree of
Bachelor of Arts were held during Lent at Cambridge and Oxford, and were known
as quadragesimate or Lenten disputations. Disputations for Masters' degrees and
Doctorates were held later in the year.
Disputations made use of a surprisingly large cast of characters, each of
whom had a specific and important role to play. The exact order of events and the
names of the figures taking part varied slightly between the universities, and
depended on the academic level of the participants. Proceedings were begun by the
moderator, who normally acted as arbitrator between the disputing scholars, although
during private college debates he might prompt those who had lost their line of
argument.56 On more formal occasions he made a speech before the disputation
commenced, in which he addressed the audience and announced the topics to be
disputed and position taken by the respondent. Costello notes that the moderator at
formal disputations was always a don, but during the Lenten disputations in the
schools he merely needed to be 'an academic grade above the disputants'.57 After his
speech the moderator introduces the father, a figure whom Christopher Wordsworth
describes as 'the Fellow . .. who goes as patron of the candidates of his College who
are called his Sons'.5* The father then gave a short speech of his own, and called
upon his son, the answerer (or respondent). The answerer, after a prayer, read a short
statement outlining his position on the question, and, while he was doing so, the
bedels handed out to the audience printed copies of verses meant to give a serious,
though highly allusive, introduction to the argument.59 After the answerer's short
statement, 'the Father doth usually confute it, but very briefly: & then hee disputeth
upon his sonne, who after he hath repeated his first syllogisme, doth endeavor to
answer the objections the father used against it'.60 Costello terms this 'preliminary
skirmishing, the purpose being to put the answerer at ease and heighten the
55
Ibid., p. 15. Wood records that before being examined for his Bachelor of Arts he had 'answer'd
twice under a bachelaur among the crowd in the divinity school, and once, if not both the times, under
Matthew Bee, a determining bachelaur of Universities Coll. in the Lent-time 1650/r (Life and Times,
volLp. 175).
56
Costello quotes from the statutes of Trinity College, Cambridge (Scholastic Curriculum, pp. 14-15).
sl
lbid.,p. 17.
•*»
As the attacks of Gassendi, Locke and Webster indicate, the scholastic
disputation was regarded as a blight on learning in some quarters. The universities
had suffered during the Interregnum, and would be attacked again as the century
went on, on the grounds that their methods were outdated and served only to preserve
the unnecessary mystique surrounding academic learning. Though they defended
themselves and their institutional aims vigorously, members of the universities must
have felt something of the force of these attacks. This may have added impetus to
the demise of the disputation. Feingold argues that although disputations and
declamations were still thought of as important didactic tools in the seventeenth
century, they were no longer attempts by authorities to 'enforce a scholastic content
of education'. Instead, he says, 'disputations were rapidly turning into literary
occasions, the intention of which was neither to generate new knowledge nor to even
determine its veracity'.64 This new attitude towards disputations accounts for their
continued prominence at all sorts of university ceremonial occasions, despite
changing tastes in entertainment. The cast of participants in these ceremonial
disputations was the subject of conje^ lure and manouvring, as a man who acquitted
himself well gained a reputation for wit (and possibly a lucrative offer of
employment, fellowship or benifice). As well as the usual Answerer and Opponents,
there often appeared a jocular figure known as the terrae filius at Oxford, or the
praevaricator (or varier) at Cambridge. He spoke immediately after the Father, and
was supposed to address the question disputed, but instead traditionally gave a
humorous speech which was often highly satirical. These speeches will be discussed
in detail below.
Festivities
58
Wordsworth, Social Life, p. 209.
These verses were not always written by the disputant - Milton was once called upon to produce a
set for an older scholar (Costello, Scholastic Curriculum, p. 18). Wood also records occasions when
ceremonial verses were written and spoken by different men (Life and Times, vol. I, pp. 242-3 and
vol. II, pp. 318-19).
60
Gonville & Caius College Library, Cambridge, MS. 744-249, p. 63; quoted in Costello, Scholastic
Curriculum, p. 19.
59
61
Costello, Scholastic Curriculum, p. 19.
Ibid., p. 20.
63
Wordsworth, Social Life, p. 251.
64
Feingold, 'Humanities', p. 226.
62
43
42
Although they largely functioned as self-absorbed entities, the seventeenth-century
universities did have occasional encounters with the outside world. They were the
object of State visits by the monarch, other members of the aristocracy and other
state officials, church officials, and foreign dignitaries. They also opened their doors
to a wider section of society during the public graduation ceremonies known as the
Act at Oxford and the Commencement at Cambridge. It will be worthwhile briefly
discussing these occasions, as they were the scene for a great deal of academic
literary production (satirical and otherwise).
The Oxford Act, in the years when it was held, occurred on the Monday
following the seventh of July.65 It was the occasion on which exercises for the
degrees of M.A. and doctorates were held, and degrees granted. The official
business also included sermons in St. Mary's, speeches by various members of the
university, and banquets. Other entertainment at the Act included plays (this was the
only time when professional players were allowed to perform at Oxford), and all
sorts of fairground spectacles. A large numf ; of visitors swarmed to Oxford during
Act time, which heightened the scholars' enjoyment of proceedings but often
dismayed the university authorities. The crowds included men of varying social
status, alumni, scholars' families, courtiers, and Cambridge men who had come to
incorporate at Oxford for a fee.66 In anticipation of the 1633 Act, Thomas Crosfield
made a memorandum in his diary to discover 'What Country ministers came to the
Act and learne of them as much as thou canst concerning matters of the University in
former times or of the Country'.67 The influx of alumni meant current scholars could
develop networks of acquaintances which would stand them in good stead when they
came to be country ministers themselves (as many did). It was also a time for
passing on university traditions from one generation of scholars to the next.68
The exercises performed by graduating scholars involved a series of formal
disputations in each Faculty. These were not always merely ceremonial - sometimes
the questions were topical, and politically sensitive. Anthony Wood notes that the
1638 Act was cancelled because of the plague, but that a proposed divinity question
had been:
'An addita et alterata in Liturgia Scoticana, justam praebeant scandali materiam?
Neg? Which passing in Congregation and approved of by the Vicechanc. the Chancellor
checkt him sharply for what he had done, and stiled those that proposed it 'bold young
men, and busy fools, who think there can be nothing done in the State, but by and by it
must be made an Act Question.'69
Even the serious elements of the Act could provide an outlet for the expression of
disgruntled scholars' religious or political opinions.
The formalities, however, were disrupted more often by various ludic figures,
chiefly the terrae filius, who disputed during the Philosophy Act, and was a favourite
with scholars and visitors alike.70 Other ostensibly academic performers were
similarly light-hearted. Highly satirical 'music lectures', spoken in English, were
intended mainly for the amusement (or discomfort) of the ladies in the audience.
Burlesque speeches were also delivered by grammar and rhetoric lecturers. From
1669, the Act was preceded by the Encaenia on the Friday. Originally the day on
which the Sheldonian Theatre was dedicated to academic use, ths Encaenia
developed into an occasion for speaking elaborate panegyrics to Oxford, and
eventually outlasted the rest of the Act ceremonies.7
A similar programme of events greeted dignitaries visiting the universities.
Visitors, especially royalty, were entertained lavishly at various colleges, and treated
to disputations, plays, orations and sermons, depending on their status and
inclination.72 The ferment of composition and performance not only included works
meant for the dignitary's consumption, but often an array of commentaries on the
proceedings, serious or otherwise, written by members of both universities.7
Occasions such as the birth or death of members of the royal family or other notable
persons influenced the universities less directly but still inspired quantities of
academic verse.74 J. W. Binns has discussed the character of sixteenth-century
university commemorative anthologies.75 Oxford and Cambridge published similar
collections of verses in Latin, Greek and other learned languages marking occasions
of political and cultural significance. The contributors to these volumes were
69
Wood, History, vol. II, p. 417.
Not all visitors approved of the terrae filius: see John Evelyn's caustic comments {Diary, vol. Ill,
pp. 530ff).
Haugen, 'Imagined Universities', p. 17.
72
For a contemporary description of a royal visit to Oxford, see Anthony Nixon's Oxfords triumph: in
the royall entertainement of his moste Excellent Maiestie, the Queene, and the Prince: the 27. of
August last, 1605. With the Kings oration deliuered to the Vniuersitie, and the incorporating ofdiucrs
noble-men, Maisters ofArte (London, 1605). See also Nichols, Progresses of King James 7, vol. I,
pp. 542-58, and vol. Ill, 42-59, 82-91; and Mallet, History of Oxford, vol. II, pp. 110-15, 3 4 1 - 4 , 4 1 9 20.
73
Responses of this kind will be discussed in chapter four, below.
74
Practically any event in the royal family could warrant a commemorative volume: see for example
Oxford's verses to Charles I on his recovery from illness (Wood, Life and Times, vol. IV, pp. 52).
75
Binns, Intellectual Culture, pp. 34-45.
70
• The Act was not held every year. There were various reasons for its non-occurrence, ranging from
lack of graduates to civil disturbances. There were no Acts in 1665-68, during which time the
Sheldonian Theatre was being built.
66
Thomas Crosfield described the fairground attractions to be seen during the Act {The Diary of
Thomas Crosfield ed. Frederick S. Boas (London, 1935), pp. 26-9, 54, 79); Thomas Baker's An Act at
Oxford (London, 1704) gives some idea of its social setting. John Evelyn visited Oxford several times
for the Act, and recorded the various dinners he attended and people he met {Diary vol III, pp 104ff
530-6, and vol. IV, pp. 67-9).
67
Diary of Thomas Crosfield; quoted in R. H. Hodgkin, Six Centuries of an Oxford College: a History
of the Queen's College 1340-1940 (Oxford, 1949), p. 91.
This will be discussed further in the context of the terrae filius and other Commencement
comedians (chapter five, below).
45
44
sometimes burlesqued or attacked seriously, indicating that these verses were not just
complimentary effusions, but were regarded as a corporate contribution to the
nation's political commentary.
The liturgical calendar provided other opportunities for festivities. Christmas
could be celebrated with varying degrees of license, depending to some extent on
college regulations and the current religious climate. In 1535, the statutes of Trinity
College, Cambridge, ordered that 'the nine lecturers of the house shall, for the
edification of the Scholars, act tragedies and comedies at Christmas, two and two
together: except the chief lecturer, who shall act one comedy or tragedy by himself.
These they shall exhibit on the 12 days of Christmas, or shortly after, at the
discretion of the Master and 8 seniors, privately in the Hall, or in public'.77 The
same season also saw the election of a Christmas Prince, or Lord of •Misrule, at
certain colleges.78 As mentioned above, other small-scale festivities marked
significant days within colleges, such as anniversaries or founders' days. The annual
fairs at Sturbridge near Cambridge provided all the usual fairground entertainments,
with the added attraction that they were forbidden to Cambridge men.79
The relationship between university environment and academic cultural production
The result of the scholars' constant engagement in formal disputations was a
readiness to express their opinions in an argumentative fashion. The scholastic
method encouraged dissection of a topic into manageable and classifiable parts; it
also inculcated in participants the need for dialogue. As a form of rhetorical training,
it gave students the power of arguing convincingly and fluently, organising their
arguments into a coherent order, and adjusting their delivery according to the
demands of their opponent and the audience. As disputations were seen as an
academic form of entertainment, so less academic entertainments took on some of
the characteristics of disputations. Scholastic ways of thinking and learning were
adversative, didactic and performance-oriented. It can be argued that each of these
characteristics influenced cultural products in certain distinctive, though interrelated,
ways.
Argument
Walter J. Ong has identified the agonistic metlii proaching truth as one of the
foundations of western knowledge, citing the development of Greek formal logic as a
primary example.80 As we have seen, the formal disputation was fundamental to
university tuition and examination. For erudite writers, then, an element of argument
could be a signal to other intellectuals that they were attempting to grapple with their
subject in a serious way. Conversely, it is possible that authors needed to
demonstrate that they were engaged in argument in order for their propositions to be
seen as interesting, or taken seriously.
To establish an argumentative stance the author needed firstly to identify
himself, or at least adopt the voice of an identifiable persona, and to indicate his own
opinion on a matter. It was not enough merely to discuss the various positions which
could be taken on a topic - the author must make a judgement and explain it to his
hearers or readers. Secondly, it required the presence of an adversary - as
generations of mothers have pointed out, it takes two to fight. Authors preferred to
have an antagonist against whom they could direct their contention, even if it was a
figure invented purely for the purposes of argument. If there was in fact another,
real, author to engage with, so much the better. This enthusiasm for dialogue can be
seen on the simplest level in the number of 'answer' poems written.81 Rather than
simply stating their own opinion, authors preferred to carry on an argument by
consciously and methodically refuting their predecessor's propositions, just as they
did when disputing in the schools.
Ad hominem attacks in the course of scholarly disputations were, if not
habitual, at least not uncommon. In the environment of the disputation, this may
have been designed to distract an opponent from his own argument, or to draw
attention away from a weak argument proposed by the speaker. In other texts
personal attack could be used for various reasons, many of which are related to the
presence of an audience, which will be discussed further below. Early-modem
academic authors' readiness to take these measures can be at least partly attributed to
their immersion in a disputative culture.
76
W o o d records that a burlesque called Momus Elencticus (1654) 'was made on several persons of the
University of Oxon who had written verses on the peace made between Oliver .. . and the States of
Holland'. The verses had been published as Musarum Oxoniensium "EXaioyopia (Oxford, 1654) (Life
and Times, vol. I, p. 189). Other attacks circulating in manuscript begged the universities not to
burden the presses with more commemorative verses. See, for example, Richard Corbett's 'In
quendam Anniversariorum Scriptorem' and 'An Elegy upon the death of Queene Anne' (Poems of
Richard Corbett, pp. 8-9, 65-7). As his editors note, Corbett did not take his own advice.
77
Wordsworth, Social Life, p. 188. See also Frederick S. Boas, University Drama in the Tudor Age
(Oxford, 1914; repr. New York, 1966), and Nelson, REED Cambridge.
This will be discussed further in chapter five, below.
79
See Wordsworth, Social Life, pp. 186-7 et passim.
Instruction
80
Ong, Fighting for Life, pp. 20-22.
See E. F. Hart, 'The Answer Poem of the Early Seventeenth Century', Review of English Studies
vol. 7 (1956), pp. 19-29.
The itemized rebuttal of an adversary's argument was a standard tactic in scholarly quarrels
conducted in print: see, for example, Thomas Sprat's Obsetvations on Monsieur de Sorbier's Voyage
into England (London, 1665), and most of Henry Stubbe's polemics.
81
46
47
Most academic discourse was either overtly didactic (for example, the lecture), or
had instruction as a secondary end. Scholars were required by statute to speak Latin
or Greek at all times because facility in these languages meant a greater ability to
read and understand ancient and modern writers.83 This meant that every utterance
they made, even speech not ordinarily intended to be didactic (such as 'pass the
salt!'), could in fact be regarded as part of the university system of learning.84 It is
not surprising, then, that erudite writers regularly imbued their works with a didactic
strain. The scholastic lecture, divided into manageable parts which could be
absorbed more readily by listeners, influenced the structure of other erudite writings.
Anglican sermons are an obvious example of this, but prose tracts and other literary
forms echo the same structure.85 Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy, with its divisions
and subdivisions of the causes and effects of melancholy, implements (and subverts)
the Aristotelian theory of knowledge through classification.86
often things were repeated, the more likely they were to be remembered and re-used,
thus adding to the sum total of education.87
Part of a text's didactic force was an appeal, explicit or otherwise, on the
author's part to the university as the institutional legitimator of his knowledge. To
do this he must cast himself as a representative of the erudite institution, which
required either a deliberate positioning of himself within the conceptual bounds c.f
the university, or some other way of associating himself with it. This could be done
by addressing a text to an audience of fellow-collegians, by publishing in a university
collection or producing for a university occasion, or even simply by describing
himself as 'Doctor', or 'ex collegio' on his title page.
Performance
Academic exercises were almost always oral, and in this sense they can be seen as
performances rather than texts: that is, they were mediated by their occasion and
audience. Similarly, many early-modern erudite literary productions were largely
oriented towards performance. Performance enhances both the adversative and
didactic force of texts by increasing their sense of immediacy for the audience.
Performers can take advantage of the occasion on which they are speaking by using
their surroundings to reinforce or ironise their words; adding topical references;
using gestures to emphasise points or make jokes; and assessing the audience's
composition and their reactions.
Erudite writers are committed to convincing their readers or audience that a
particular argument or point of view is the correct one. They do this not simply
because they are committed to winning all arguments, but because they consider a
text's main function to be the persuasion of its readers. Even texts which are not
overtly didactic often exhibit signs of their authors' education. The use of a learned
language, classical quotations, formal rhetorical devices, biblical and historical
allusions, foreign languages, and learned footnotes allowed the author to announce
his erudition to his readers, in the same way that disputants and declaimers worked
commonplaces into their arguments and speeches in order to convince hearers of
their wide learning. These commonplaces were meant to educate the audience as
well as score points for the speaker: in the oral atmosphere of the schools, the more
1
83
The Laudian statutes allow only 'those who can with suitableness and aptitude express their
thoughts in Latin on matters of daily occurrence' to be ready for the Master's degree (Statutes, trans.
Ward; quoted in Feingold, 'Humanities', p. 215).
84
John Potenger was one student who found this difficult at first: 'At dinner and supper^ it being the
custom to speak latin, my words were few, till I came to a tollerable proficiency in colloquial latin'
(Private Memoirs of John Potenger, Esq. ed. C. W. Bingham (London, 1841); repr. in Quiller Couch,
Reminiscences of Oxford, p. 54).
85
Niels Hemmingsen divided the sermon into four parts 'the Exordium or beginninge, the Treatise,
the Digression end [sic] the Conclusion' (The Preacher (London, 1574; repr. Scolar Press, J972), f.
15"). William Chappell began his own treatise by describing preaching as 'a discourse upon a Text of
Scripture, disposing its parts according to the order of nature, whereby, the accord of them, one with
the other m a y be judged of, and contained in memory' (The Preacher, or the Art and Method of
Preaching (London, 1656; repr. Scolar Press, 1971), p. 1). Both texts are themselves divided into a
logical structural sequence.
86
Michael E. Hobart and Zachary S. Schifftnan discuss Aristotle's science of classification in their
Information Ages: Literacy, Numeracy, and the Computer Revolution (Baltimore and London, 1998),
pp. 77-84.
One reason for hoping to perform well in academic exercises was the
admiration, as well as material benefits, which accrued to successful scholars. In this
sense it could be argued that one function of academic performance was to attract
attention to the performer - as indeed is the function of any performance. The
element of display had a more specific role in university society, however. It
advertised the speaker to the world as a marketable commodity, one who could
perform the duties necessary to an office as a clergyman, government official or
anything else that required rhetorical skills. Opportunities to display their
accomplishments to visiting dignitaries were usually welcomed by scholars.88
This need for display is linked with the adversative culture because
antagonists needed to define their own persona before they could use it to launch
attacks on others. Erudite writers needed to stake out their intellectual territory by
87
Ong discusses the necessity for repetition of knowledge in oral cultures (Orality and Literacy: the
Technologizing of the Word (1982; repr. London and New York, 1988), pp. 33-36, 38-41). Greenblatt
emphasises the didactic force of repetition in early-modern culture (Renaissance Self-fashioning,
201)
This was not always the case: Samuel Fairclough protested at taking part in Ignoramus, acted at
Cambridge in 1615 (seep. 100below).
49
48
publicising their opinions and claiming a particular sphere of knowledge for
themselves. This explains a tendency for early-modern erudite authors to write
themselves into their own work as deliberate and obvious presences. They may
name themselves and give an account of their situation in the preface to a text, or
describe the circumstances which led to the text's production. Satirical speakers at
academic occasions often refer to their role, and what might be expected of them in
the performing of it. Most present a threatening, or at least exaggerated, persona.
The other significant similarity between formal academic exercises and other
erudite productions is the presence and important role of the audience. Many
accounts of early modem oral performances include details of hearers' responses,
indicating that the reaction of the audience was a significant part of the whole
experience. In 1564, Cambridge's public orator, William Masters, gave an oration to
welcome Elizabeth to the town, and 'whilst he enlarged upon her majesty's praises,
she often shook her head and bit her lips, and sometimes broke out in these
expressions, non est veritas and utinanr, but when he praised virginity, she
commended the orator and bid him continue there'. The queen later complimented
Masters on his ability to speak so well from memory, holding to his line of thought
even while she was making these interruptions.89 The queen's responses, watched
and recorded by the rest of the audience, supported the orator by giving legitimacy to
his assertions. Rather than simply delivering his speech into a void, he became part
of a dynamic occasion. The interaction also gave the queen an opportunity to
reinforce her chosen image of herself with a display of modesty and endorsement of
virginity. While the monarch was perhaps given greater latitude to interrupt official
speeches, the lines between speaker and audience were generally less well-defined
than they are today. This is especially evident in the staging of dramatic
productions.90
The tendency for the audience to react strongly and vocally to academic
disputants has already been discussed. Scholars often attempted to intimidate or spur
on disputants by 'coursing' them. Wood considers this type of audience participation
to have been an important part of the disputation performance. His description of the
1683 Lenten disputations is revealing:
120 Bachelors determine, wheras there never use to be under 200.
Lent disputations decay: the Bachelors do not dispute nor will not, unles the supervisers
(boyish Regents) are present. Some senior Masters goe to heare disputations,
particularly Mr. <Robert> Huntingdon after his long absence; but they will not dispute,
89
90
Baker, History of the College of St. John the Evangelist, vol. I, p. 159.
See chapter four, below.
and stand silent, while their abbettors sneare and grin. This wee get by having coursing
put downe by Dr. <John> Fell.91
Wood attributes the decline of disputations to the more irenic atmosphere in the
schools: in his view, disputants needed the added impetus of a noisy crowd of
supporters and detractors if they were to get on with their arguments.
This interaction between speaker and audience, although sometimes a
hindrance to the speaker, occurred at other performances.
The various satirical
speeches made at commencement ceremonies relied to a great extent on the presence
of a knowing and appreciative audience for their humour. Moreover, the speakers
often made good use of the fact that their intended victims were usually seated
prominently in the auditorium, visible to many of their hearers. Thus the terrae filius
could gesture towards the vice-chancellor or mayor as he mentioned them, and the
audience could crane their heads to see how the targets reacted to the mockery.
Occasionally the victim fought back and denounced the speaker.92 Interruptions such
as these were presumably a regular occurrence during less formal disputations, and
could be seen as aiding the quest for truth, in that objections to his argument had to
be answered by the respondent. Protests by listeners at satirical speeches, then,
reinforced the idea that the speaker was a valid disputant, and thus paradoxically
strengthened his argument instead of underming it. This was certainly the case at the
Oxford music speech in 1656, about which Wood tells this story:
The Lady W— of Berks, a light House-wife, and one notorious for her Salaciousness,
being among other Ladies at the Musick School on Act Saturday, 1656, and there
hearing Mr. Henry Thurman of Christ Church declaiming eagerly against Women and
their Vanities, she thereupon openly, and with a loud Voice, cried, Sir, you are out, you
are wrong, you are to begin again, &c. thinking thereby to abash him; but he being a
very bold Fellow, answer'd as loud, Madam, if I am wrong you are right / am sure. As
much as to say, If I don't speak Truth, you are a good Woman: Upon which, all the
Auditory laughing, she sat down and pluck'd her Hood over her Face.93
The interruption made by Lady W. served only to give Thurman a further
opportunity of stating his case and proving his point about women.94
Written forms of erudite cultural production relied equally on the presence of
an audience with whom the authors, or their writing personae, could interact.
Authors often created an audience for themselves when one was not physically
91
Wood, Life and Times, vol. Ill, p. 37. W o o d ' s dislike of Fell m a y have influenced his j u d g e m e n t on
tliis matter.
92
Hearnc records the following anecdote: 'Dean Addison [ie. Lancelot Addison], when he was a
young man at Queen's, had Ins eye accidentally struck out by a small bone flung at him in jest. He
was Terrae Filius in the year 1657, and reflecting upon Dr. South in his speech, the Dr. stood up, and
said "O monstrum horrendum, infomie, ingens, cui lumen ademptum!'" (Reliquiae Heamianae: the
Remains of Thomas Hearne, MA ed. Philip Bliss, 3 vols. (London, 1869), vol. I, pp. 77-8). South was
quoting Virgil's description of the cyclops (Aeneid, Bk. Ill, 1. 658).
9
Wood, Modus Salium, p. 29.
94
Haugen comments on this passage in 'Imagined Universities', p. 7.
51
50
present. One method was to address their readers directly. Sometimes specific
readers were mentioned by name, if the text was written for a friend or group of
friends. This situation created more than one readership group or audience circle,
giving the opportunity for the author to manipulate the relationships between
different potential audiences.
The implications of this relationship for erudite satire
With these points in mind, it is not difficult to see why satire proved an attractive
form of expression for university-educated men. In a definition which could be
applied almost equally well to the scholastic disputation, Mary Claire Randolph
suggests that there are 'minimum essentials for the quasi-dramatic genre that formal
verse satire is: two actors or participants, a Satirist and his Adversarius; a setting of
sorts; and a thesis to be argued'.95 Randolph and the anthropological theorists agree
that satire is an adversative genre, which replaces physical with verbal, intellectual
combat - ideal for those who intend to stake out territory in the realm of ideas rather
than the physical world. As we have seen, satire typically incorporates an attack on
an opponent, and this attack can be personally damaging, especially if it comes in the
form of a curse or lampoon. Early theorists stress the moral function of satire, often
seeing it as a didactic genre, even if the sentiments expressed are more a result of
spleen than an attempt at social correction. And as Randolph points out, satiric
personae have a thesis to argue - they want to win over their audience to the 'right'
way of thinking. This implies a performance of some sort, and Randolph, like the
commentators who linked the genre with Old Comedy, emphasises its dramatic
nature.
I have argued that eruditi might have been drawn to particular attributes of
satire which reflected the ways they habitually framed their thoughts. But what did
they do with satire? The remainder of this thesis will investigate three main
functions of erudite satire: creating individual and communal identities through the
construction of erudite personae; constructing communities by marking physical and
mental territorial boundaries; and commenting on intellectual procedures. These
issues will be explored in greater depth in the following chapters, with close
reference to texts and contexts which illustrate the patterns of thought and behaviour
I see as characteristic to early-modern eruditi.
As Blanchard and others have demonstrated, the texts and rituals sacred to
particular institutions can be manipulated or subverted with great effect. Their
potency can be turned against the very institution whose structure they were designed
95 Randolph,
'Structural Design', p. 174.
i
to support. The medieval tradition of parodic sermons and mock lectures, written by
monks and scholars for entertainment, combined elements of attack with their
levity.96 They mocked the institutions to which they belonged simultaneously with
the forms of discourse in which the institution engaged and on which its cultural
power was based. Similarly, academic lectures and disputations in the scholastic
tradition spawned parodic or satirical variants which were closely related in form to
their serious predecessors but differed in content. The Oxford terrae filius, and
Cambridge praevaricator and tripos, were participants in formal disputations at the
respective commencement ceremonies. Instead of speaking on their assigned topic,
though, they made a speech which satirised members of the university. The music
'lectures' (or 'speeches') at Oxford and Cambridge, and the Oxford grammar lecture,
and possibly others, were delivered on a formal ceremonial occasion but were
entirely ludic in content. All these types of satirical performance are no doubt partly
related to ancient rituals of social inversion, which are found throughout Western
culture, from the Roman Saturnalia to carnival festivities and characters such as Boy
Bishops and Christmas Princes in the abbeys and schools of Renaissance England.97
The medieval insistence on the constant presence of death, on the grotesque, and on
the ridiculousness of the physical body which reflected the impermanence of the
world, influenced the way members negotiated their relationships with medieval
institutions.98 At the universities, these ludic elements counterbalanced the
seriousness of the commencement ceremonies which confirmed scholars'
achievements and announced them to the world. Satire provided an opportunity to
examine institutions and their power structures in ways that would not normally be
tolerated.
Other forms of erudite satire reflected different academic concerns.
The
tradition of mock lectures developed into satirical attacks on particular groups of
people.
Oxford.
1
1
96
Wood mentions attacks of this kind on Puritans during the 1630s at
9
The music speeches at Oxford and Cambridge consisted mainly of ribald
For discussions of medieval parodic works see Bakhtin, Rabelais and his World; Martha Bayless,
Parody in the Middle Ages: the Latin Tradition (Ann Arbor, 1996); and Blanchard, Scholars' Bedlam,
pp. 52-66. An account of the Goliard poetry of medieval scholars can be found in Waddell, The
Wandering Scholars.
97
For Renaissance Carnival traditions, see, among others, Bakhtin, Rabelais and his World. Ernst
Robert Curtius treats medieval ludic literature in European Literature and the Latin Middle Ages
trans. Willard R. Trask (Princeton, 1953), pp. 417-35. An account of Christmas revels at St. John's
College, Oxford, 1607-8, is given in The Christmas Prince: Acted 1607/8 ed. Earl Jeffrey Richards
(Hildesheim, 1982).
Bakhtin discusses the essence and function of the grotesque in Rabelais and his World, pp. 25-6 et
passim.
99
'. . . a company of boone Fellows, stiled themselves "the College or Society of Wormes", and
appointed Readers from among them that should lecture it at their merry meetings against the
Puritans. They imitated them in their winning Tones, with the lifting up of eyes, in their antic actions,
53
52
attacks on women. These speeches, which will be discussed below, attempted to
limit women's influence and mark the boundaries between women and scholars. The
scholars used the didactic power of the lecture, and their own facility at performance,
to exclude their audience from participation in academic exercises. In other words,
they drew on their heritage as members of the university to ensure the university's
continued unchanged existence. This is a common theme in the history of academic
satire. Some types of academic performance functioned in a similar way, using
scenes of university life or erudite subject matter to place the authors inside and their
audience outside university bounds. Christian Gutleben briefly discusses earlymodern academic satire as part of an investigation into the origins of the modern
campus novel. His interest is in the connection between the satiric and the comic,
and he is particularly concerned with assessing the stance taken by university authors
towards their subject, when their subject is the university itself. He discusses
academic productions in light of the mocking, stereotyped portraits of academics
made by those outside the universities:
there appears in the sixteenth century a series of intramural productions in which the
satiric becomes ironic partaking as much of self-praise as of self-criticism. Indeed, these
academic comedies never were intended for the general public: written by academics
about academics, they were also performed privately for academics. When the
addressers and the addressees form a coterie of initiates, self-derision and self-parody
come to be the dominant modes and the satiric seems to be invalidated. In such a case,
self-mockery becomes self-flattery and the satiric becomes panegyric.100
As the following discussions of various texts will show, erudite satirists were
constantly engaged in marking out territory. This could be as simple as the definition
of physical space, particularly that occupied by the universities. In conflicts with the
town, university satirists attempted to limit the townmen's grasp on their physical
environment by asserting their own legal jurisdiction and actual control over the
streets, inns and houses of the university towns.101 Erudite writers also attempted to
assert their control over broader areas, outside their home ground. Satirists could do
this by writing or re-writing the local history of a particular area, whether it be
London or one of the counties. Erudite satirists tended to ignore or present gross
caricatures of rustic country-dwellers, at the same time writing themselves into the
landscape in ways which asserted their dominance.102
The second type of territory marked out by erudite satirists was the abstract
territory of the mind. Satirists, like other erudite writers, constantly attempted to
define the fields of learning, explained the ends of learning, and discussed the place
of intellectual institutions within society. Specific writers marked out their own
particular intellectual ground, the branch of learning in which they wished to be seen
as eminent. Satirists did this by mocking their adversaries, putting boundaries
between other institutions and their own. Satires against the Royal Society, for
example, reflected a concern about the new philosophy and the ways in which it
might threaten older forms of knowledge.103
In their attacks, erudite satirists often targeted specific, recognisable
opponents. These might be fellow eruditi, other members of their own university or
another intellectual institution, or particular town~men, courtiers or officials.
Sometimes these opponents were named, sometimes described so that their identity
was obvious to a certain group of readers. Other attacks were aimed at broader
opponent groups, such as those of the universities against the Inns of Court, or those
of one college against anotlier. Finally, attacks were levelled at whole sections of
society - the most obvious being attacks on women.
Erudite satirists not only clearly defined their opponents, but they also created
strongly-delineated personae for themselves.104 Their concern with territory meant
that they often placed themselves within their institution, writing from within a
study, or a college; speaking as a lecturer. Usually the persona supported their
claims to erudition by using commonplaces, historical or antiquarian anecdotes,
mentioning other eruditi, or using a learned language. The display of erudition was
also necessitated by the desire of the erudite satirist to persuade his audience to agree
with his argument or point of view; this didactic strain could influence the form
satirists choose, such as the mock-lecture or mock-sermon.
Erudite satirists showed themselves to be alert to the power of performance.
They enjoyed using topical references, and had a strong sense of occasion. They
usually made it clear that they were writing for a particular audience of fellow
eruditi, or members of the universities, or outsiders. Furthermore, they used their
audiences, and the different groups within them, to emphasise the point of their
satire. Thus, if one member or section of the audience was being attacked in the
presence of others, the satire could perform on more than one level simultaneously,
discriminating between audience groups at the same time as attacking one or more of
them.
Their experiences at university influenced satirists in various ways.
and left nothing undone, whereby they might make them ridiculous' (Wood, History, vol. II, p. 384).
These orations should probably rather be classified as parodic sermons.
100
Gutleben, 'English Academic Satire', pp. 135-6.
See in particular my discussion of the satires surrounding the performance of Ignoramus at
Cambridge (chapter four, below).
102
1 discuss erudite appropriations of territory in chapter three, below.
I have
emphasised the agonistic tone of early-modern university life in order to demonstrate
103
104
These satires and their functions are discussed in chapter seven, below.
I discuss satiric personae in more detail in chapter three, below.
55
54
ways in which specific, common, university experiences were reflected in the
satirical writings of the age. Not all university men were satirists, and not all found
academic life equally adversative. However, many scholars developed a strong and
lasting attachment to their institutions and to the scholastic ways of learning and
thinking they encountered there. In the following chapter, we will see that this could
have a profound effect on individual notions of identity, and on the relations between
3. Satire and the erudite persona
individual scholars and the rest of society.
It is a truth universally acknowledged (among scholars) that scholarship is ignored,
undervalued, and misunderstood outside the universities. The anonymous lament of
a seventeenth-century Cambridge man is gloomier than most:
All in a melancholie studie
none but my selfe
mee=thought my muse grew muddy
after seaven yeares reading
and costly breeding
I felt but could find no pelfe
Into learned raggs I tumd my plush & sattin
and now am fit to begg in Hebrew greeke and latin
in stead of Aristotle would I had got a paten
And alas poore scholler whither wilt thoe goe1
The scholar must leave Cambridge because his hopes of election to a college
fellowship have been dashed; he is unable to find preferment, and dreads a poor
country benefice where his learning will not be appreciated.
The tongues and arts I've skill in
devine and humane
but all's not worth a shilling
when the women heare me
they will but jeare me
and say I am prophane
Once I remember I preached w"1 a weaver
I quoted Augustine he quoted Dod & Cleaver
I nothing got he got a cloake and beaver
& alas &c.
He considers leaving the country, but finally hits on a better plan - becoming a
teacher at a 'free schole', where he will be 'King by William Lilies charter'. The
poem ends with the (apparently cheering) vision of the scholar exercising a petty
'The schollars complaint in these latter ages', Bodleian Library MS Malone 21, ff. 33r-34r.
57
56
lyrical poetry, which suggests that literary tradition rather than personal experience is
influencing the writer. So some kinds of poetry use conventions which make it less
likely for the readers to interpret what is said as the unmediated reflection of the
author's opinions or experience. I would argue that satire should (though it does not
always) fall into this category.6 When the narrator of a satire writes 'I hate children',
his or her readers should be under no obligation to believe that the actual author has a
similar antipathy. Instead, they should attribute the expression to a creation of the
author's, the satiric persona. This persona may bear a strong resemblance to its
creator, the author - it may have the same political, religious or moral opinions, may
live in the same city, dress the same way, follow the same occupation, and sleep with
the same people as the author - but it should never be completely identified with the
author.
tyranny over his charges.
The ballad draws on the complaint tradition, in its title ('The schollars
complaint in these latter ages'), its targeting of types instead of specific people, and
its undertone of dissatisfaction with the church authorities of the Interregnum. The
author's persona remains vague, as befits the complaint genre - with one significant
difference. Instead of being an everyman figure complaining of widespread social
injustices, he is a scholar, lamenting the scholar's lot. He was not alone in his
complaint. Many university satirists reveal an underlying note of anxiety about their
place in a wider society that often seems dismissive of their achievements.4 As we
will see in the following chapter, some deal with this by attacking the ignorant, and
reinforcing the university's status as knowledge-provider. However, others react by
re-creating the scholarly voice within their poetry. In these satires, the speakers are
not poor, itinerant scholars, but brash adventurers, touring the country in search of
amusement and edification. It could be argued that this invention of a new, more
romantic, persona was one of the strategies used by scholars and eruditi to combat
their occasional inferiority complex.
The satiric persona
The tradition of identifying the speaker of a poem with the author of that poem is a
long one, especially when poems are written in the first person. After all, if a poet
writes 'I fell in love with Celia', why should we as readers not believe that he did, in
fact, fall in love with Celia? Of course, we all recognise some situations in which
these same words have a different signification - one which does not necessarily
make us believe that the speaker did what he says he did. Dramatic performances,
for example, use a widely (though not universally) recognised convention that the
actors are playing a part, and only mean what they say in the context of the play. A
more complex situation arises in other kinds of literature, but even then we can often
identify occasions when the writer's words may be interpreted figuratively rather
than literally, hi the example above, we might recognise 'Celia' as a stock name in
2
Possibly he took heart from the story of Dionysus, who, having been deposed as king of Sicily for
his tyranny, found a new sphere of operations as a school-master in Italy (Thomas Elyot, The Boke
named the Governour (1531), I. v).
3
The speaker complains of 'our English pope' for not preferring him, and is bitter about 'Biggamy of
steeples', as well as the Puritan weaver who out-preached him. The Interregnum was a particularly
difficult time for scholars, many of whom were ejected from their fellowships. Even those who were
not directly affected felt that the universities were under attack from various political and social
forces.
4
In Marston's What You Will (1607), II.ii. 120-210, Lampatho describes his time at university and his
dilemma about what to do when he left {John Marston: the Works ed. Arthur Henry Bullen, 3 vols.
(1887; repr. Hildesheim and New York, 1970), vol. II, pp. 362-5).
5
Robert C. Elliott discusses this at length in The Literary Persona (Chicago and London, 1982).
\
The persona, then, is the mask worn to enact a character. Obviously, the use of
a persona implies some kind of performance. The nature of satire as a performanceoriented genre may mean that we are more likely to find attributes of performance,
like the mask, in satire than in other literary texts. The idea of satire as performance
doer,, however, create some problems for persona-based criticism. Barbara
Herrnstein Smith distinguishes between two types of discourse, which she identifies
as 'natural' and 'fictive'. Natural discourse is defined as 'all utterances that can be
taken as the verbal acts of real persons on specific occasions in response to particular
circumstances'. Poetry is designated as fictive utterance, because of the conventions
surrounding our reading of poetry (that it is constructed, or artificial in some way),
and therefore is a representation of natural utterance, rather than the thing itself.7
However, I do not agree that the distinction between fictive and natural utterances
can be made quite so starkly. It is not clear whether the conventionally constructed
or artificial nature of poetry extends to other written forms, such as the letter, the
note attached to the refrigerator, or the autobiography. If all these forms are
designated as artificial, this is a recurrence of the ancient distinction between oral
and literate forms of communication, which privileged the oral because it was seen to
contain something of the spirit (or sincerity) of the speaker.8 On the other hand,
natural discourse can often contain fictive elements - for example, when a 'real'
person is speaking ironically, or using mimicry to parody someone. The distinction
is particularly difficult to make when the speaker is self-consciously enacting a role.
For example, some of Rochester's epigrams and lampoons were apparently
Elliott illustrates the contested status of the satiric persona in an overview of the critical debate over
Swift's personae {The Literaiy Persona (Chicago and London, 1982), pp. 107ff).
7
Barbara Hermstein Smith, On the Margins of Discourse: the Relation of Literature to Language
(Chicago and London, 1978) pp. 15-40; quoted in Elliott, Literaiy Persona, p. 88.
8
Ong, Orality and Literacy, pp. 74-5, 79-81.
M/>iai^
59
58
composed on the spur of the moment, and seem to fit the description of natural
performance and audience for its effect. An ignorant or foolish audience will not see
irony - in which case the satins.: is in trouble. A performer can temper his irony
according to the reaction of his audience. If he wants to retreat from a statement, he
can create ambiguity by slipping further into an ironic mode so that the audience
assumes his previous remarks were also meant ironically. Perhaps readers
sometimes find it difficult to work out exactly what an author means because tlr
author himself has not irrevocably decided on a meaning.
discourse as defined above. Does the fact that readers now come across them in the
pages of a scholarly edition, as poetry, immediately change their status from natural
to fictive discourse? Robert C. Elliott argues that it does - however, it could also be
argued that Rochester was speaking in his satirical persona when he made the
lampoons, and thus that they were never a form of natural discourse.9
Again,
satirical texts that were composed to be delivered orally are no doubt fictive, since
they can hardly be seen as the response of a real person to a specific occasion or
particular circumstances. The speaker takes on a satirical persona, and it is in this
role that he makes satirical remarks to his audience. However, if he departs from his
prepared speech in order to answer the objections of an audience member, is it the
real man or the satirical persona who answers?
I would argue, again, that the
conventions of the satirical role govern his response, even though it might sound a
great deal like natural discourse.10
Gardner Stout Jr. has attempted to sink the concept of the persona by arguing
that the reader should imagine Swift himself'performing* his works:
In telling his Tale of a Tub, Swift acts out the vices of the mob before the delighted eyes
of his elite audience.... Far from supposing that they are listening to an actual fool, this
audience, Swift assumes, will recognize that they are listening to a master mimic and
parodist."
Elliott, however, preferred to see Swift's narrator as a 'spokesman', rather than the
man himself, because the •narrator periodically claimed (ironically) to be a 'Modem',
which, of course, Swift certainly was not. Even Elliott, though, identifies occasions
when he sees Swift himself taking over from his spokesman in order to drive home
some particularly pertinent point.12
The satirical persona, then, is a performer who may or may not resemble his
creator the author, and is recognised as a performer rather than the real thing by the
satire's audience. Connery and Combe claim satire 'creates masks that are designed
to be transparent'.13 hi the same way that the setting of many satires is a
recognisably burlesque, grotesque or ironically reversed version of the real world, so
the satirical persona is often a recognisably false representation of the living author.
The ambiguity of satire is heightened when the persona seems to speak in a voice
very nearly that of the real author. Irony, whether written or spoVen, depends on
Elliott, Literary Persona, p. 89. Elliott uses Wordsworth in his illustration.
The conventions of satirical performances will be discussed further in chapter five, below.
" Gardner D. Stout, Jr., 'Speaker and Satiric Vision in Swift's Tale of a Tub\ Eighteenth-century
Studies vol. 3 (1969), p. 183. This seems rather pointless, since the Swift 'imagined' by his readers
might bear even less resemblance to the 'real' Swift than a persona.
12
Elliott, Literary Persona, pp. 111,117-19.
13
Connery and Combe, Theorizing Satire, p. 7.
10
4
The fact that writers of satire are so often wholly identified with their satirical
personae can be ascribed to some of the genre's characteristics. Satirists need to
develop a strong argument for their case against society or individuals, and this
argument is often carried on by a vehement persona, or one who emphasises his
truthfulness and trustworthiness. The very strength of the emotions created bitterness against injustice, hatred of vice, mockery of folly - leads the reader to
imagine a bitter, seething author, because it is difficult to comprehend such highly
charged emotions emanating from a calm, rational person. The point of satire is to
make these emotions seem real, and if the readers see too easily that they are not
entirely sincere, the sharp point of the satire is blunted. A second reason for
author/persona identification lies in the occasional, highly referential nature of satire.
Generally the author of satire wants his imagined world to be firmly rooted in the
real world, since it is real-world abuses he is attacking. This requires various
methods of verisimilitude, or devices which point to the ways in which irony is being
used for satiric purposes. It is only natural for the readers to assume that, just as die
real world links behind (and is clearly intended to be signified by) the fictional satiric
world, so a real author must be peering over his persona's shoulder, and occasionally
pushing his persona aside and speaking instead of him. This may be what Coim&y
and Combe mean when they cite 'satire's insistence upon both i's fej^ricity and its
ef ''.cacy' in explanation for readers' confusing satirists with their Siitiric persoi.?e.14
The special perspective of criticism has, in the past, contributed to the focus
on what the persona reveals of the author (or what the author reveals of himself).
Critics of Swift's satire, for example, are usually more interested in Swift as a
person, than Swift's fictional personae. They want to know Swift's opinions, and so
they analyse the opinions of his personae in order to distill them into some kind of
'essence of Swift'. Author-based criticism iias largely obscured the function of the
literary persona, and its significance. For a study such as this, questions of
authorship are often secondary to questions of writing personae. Many of the poems
in this study are anonymous, or little is known about their authors apart from names,
approximate dates, and collegial affiliations. The point is that anonymous or
14
Ibid., p. 4.
61
60
practically anonymous poems say a great deal about the context in which they are
produced - often more than poems of individualistic genius such as those of Swift or
Pope.15 Lesser-known (often lesser-quality) works are often products of their
environment in ways that Swift's and Pope's works both are and are not. In the case
of anonymous poems, choice and use of persona can indicate the writer's
assumptions about audience and function of the satire.
them or recontextualising them to change their meanings, or simply repeating them
A persona can be seen as a role played by the satirist in order to do particular
things. It allows the satirist to speak in someone else's voice - as a game, in which
the author can assume another's identity in order to experience life in a different way
(for example the Restoration rake figure who knows intimately the brothels and
coffee-houses of London), or as a disguise put on in order to mock someone (by
appropriating his figure or voice and causing it to do or say foolish things). Personae
allow satirists to disguise their own voices in order to say things that are not socially
acceptable.16 They aid in the creation of a world which readers understand is
fictional or metaphorical (such as when the speaker is an animal, or a mythical
being). The satirist is as much a character in his satire as anyone else, and the
persona can become a victim of the satire (or at least mockery) along with his more
obvious victims. Gulliver is not always the hero of his own travels. Rochester's rake
persona labours under certain infirmities which are themselves the ammunition for
satirical attacks on others.
mocking, there is very little distance between the target and the audience. Instead,
Equally, however, the persona can be used to underscore the difference
between correctly-behaving people and the objects of satire, by giving the persona
opposing attributes to those displayed by the fools/knaves surrounding him. This is
probably the most usual function of the persona, and the audience is supposed to
identify most strongly with this narrating figure when it is the everyman (or at least
normal man) type. Of course, a particular persona can embody the moral or social
attributes of a minority group - one man's everyman is not necessarily everyone's
everyman. So the existence of a particular persona can point to the existence of an
implied readership, as in many university or court satires. In this situation, the
persona can become a construct of the group identity - the sort of person the group
can imagine as a spokesperson who embodies its particular voice and attitude to life.
By giving the persona certain attributes, the author can help to construct an identity
for the group.
Personae can also destroy identities, or remake them as cruel parodies of their
originals. Satirists can reuse their victims' own previously-published words, twisting
IS
Robert Hume downplays circumstance's influence 'until one gets to extremely imitative and
derivative writers - strictly hacks' {Archaeo-historicism, pp. 147-8).
16
As Erasmus did in his Moriae Encomium, hoping that readers would not take seriously things said
by Folly (Tomarken, Smile of Truth, p. 39).
in a way that highlights any infelicities of expression. They can invent foolish or
vicious speeches and attribute them to their victims. They can even take on their
victim's identity as a satiric persona, speaking as the other person for the purpose of
showing up his or her actions. All these strategies highlight the centrality of the
satiric voice to satire.
Without the satirist's intervening voice, denouncing or
the audience responds directly to the target (that is, to the satirist in the guise of the
target), hi this situation, it is much more difficult for the target to retaliate: instead of
the satirist making a claim which can be denied, or proven false, it seems that the
victim is denouncing himself - the satirist has vanished from the scene. Anthony
Wood describes one such situation at Oxford:
Samuel Kynaston . . . about Michaelmas this year [1632], devised, and of set purpose
published certain foolish and ridiculous Speeches of a supposed prayer, which he
fastned on Mr. Rogers Principal of New-Inn, a noted Puritan, and gave out to have been
by him delivered in his own parish church of St. Peter in the Baylie.l7
Wood does not record the outcome, but it could have been serious for Kynaston.
Although baiting Puritans was an acceptable form of amusement at pre-civil war
Oxford, Kynaston chose to go about it in a way which could have seen him
prosecuted for libel. Early-modem English law recognised the usurpation of a
1 *3
person's identity as defamation.
For example, a scribal copy of Lord Lucas's
parliamentary speech of 22 February 1671, in which Lucas criticised Charles II's
policies, was brought before the Lords. Then,
Lord Lucas was asked whether it was his. He sayed Part was, and Part was not.
Thereupon they took Advantage, and sayed it was a Libel even against Lucas himself.
On this they voted it a Libel, and to be burned by the Hangman.19
The Lords used the situation for their own ends, and, as Harold Love notes, 'Lucas's
denial may have been strategic'.20 However, the point is that Lord Lucas's speech,
corrupted by someone else's interpolations, was seen as a libel against Lucas. A
second example is provided by Dryden. In the preface to the 1677 printed edition of
17
Wood, History, vol. II, p. 384.
William Hudson lists the forms of libel as 'scoffing at the person of another in rhyme or prose, or
by the personating him, thereby to make him ridiculous; or by setting up horns at his gate, or picturing
him or describing him; or by writing of some base or defamatory letter, and publishing the same to
others, or some scurvy love-letter to himself, whereby it is not Jikely but he should be provoked to
break the peace; or to publish disgraceful or false speeches against any man or public officer' (A
Treatise of the Court of Star Chamber in Collectanea Juridica ed. Francis Hargrave, 2 vols. (London,
1791-2; repr. Birmingham, 1986), vol. II, p. 100).
19
The Poems and Letters of Andrew Mai-vell ed. H. M. Margoliouth, 3rd ed., rev. P. Legouis and E. E.
Duncan-Jones (Oxford, 1971), vol. II, p. 323; quoted in Harold Love, 'Oral and Scribal Texts in Early
Modem England' in Cambridge History of the Book in Britain, Vol. IV ed. John Burnand et al.
(forthcoming), pp. 98-99.
20
Love, 'Oral and Scribal Texts', p. 99.
62
The State of Innocence, he complains that he had been forced into print by the
manuscript circulation of the text - 'many hundred Copies of it being dispers'd
abroad without my knowledge or consent: so that every one gathering new faults, it
became at length a Libel against me'.21 In a writing culture where authorship was
unstable (because of the possibility of unauthorised scribal changes to texts), and
difficult to prove, the integrity of the authorial voice was especially important.22
It is important for individuals to have control over their own utterances
because, along with our actions, our speech (or its textual equivalent) proclaims our
identity.23 If an individual's voice is usurped, his identity is in danger of being
erased. Literary usurpations were libellous, and M. Lindsay Kaplan notes that
impersonations of real people in dramatic performances were regarded as slander in
early-modern England.24 Early-modem satirists could play on the significance
attributed to personal utterances by creating personae that were recognisable, though
distorted, caricatures of their victims. This was not merely an act of parody as we
might regard it today, in which a person's mannerisms or speech are mimicked in a
way which reflects on their original, but signals the actual distance between original
and parody. Knowing, as early-modern satirists and their audiences did, that some
kinds of false representation were illegal and potentially dangerous to authors.and
readers, gave an added frisson to the experience of satire, and an added interest to the
satiric voice.
In his Discourse, Dryden equated Persius' satiric voice with Persius himself.
As we have seen, he made a strong link between the character of the satirist and the
worth of his satires, which again suggests that he saw the satires as a direct reflection
of the satirist's character. However, some early-modern satirists did use particular
strategies of self-representation in their works. Julian Ferraro has analysed ways in
which Pope, following Rochester, uses Horatian allusions to create a particular image
of the poet in society.25 In the rest of this chapter, I will argue that erudite satirists
created and manipulated their personae to bolster their own self-images and the
image of the community to which they belonged.
Erudite personae
The poor, wandering scholar and the pedant have long been staple comic characters
on stage - their erudition worth nothing in the harsh world, except to make them the
objects of confusion, derision, or scorn to those whose paths they cross. The main
theme of the three Parnassus plays is the financially unrewarding nature of study. 6
When the young Philomusus must leave Parnassus, he contemplates a grim future:
'The partiall heauens doe fauoure eche rude boore, / Mackes drouiers riche, and
makes each scholler poore'.27 And indeed, the conclusion of the second part of The
Return from Parnassus finds Philomusus and his cousin Studioso off to tend flocks
on the Kentish downs, having failed to make their livings at a variety of other
pursuits. Their equally well-educated friends Ingenioso, Furor Poeticus, and
Phantasma go to the Isle of Dogs to be f Lords of misrule', Ingenioso vowing to write
venomous satires against the world. Only Academico returns to Cambridge, having
failed to get a benefice because a farmer has paid to have his son installed in his
place.28
The suspicion that academic learning is worthless outside the university walls
colours much early-modern university writing.29 Alvin Kernan characterizes
Renaissance satiric personae as 'men who in their younger days had been overly
curious scholars and who on entering the world discovered that their bookish wisdom
was of no value. They react by becoming parasites, flatterers, and satirists'.30
Christian Gutleben points out the similarity between Keman's Renaissance satirist,
and many narrators of university fiction. l Even those writing within the university
for an audience of their peers cannot help being influenced by the suspicion that their
endeavours are not appreciated outside the university walls. This can be expressed in
different ways: on one hand, the writers feel more closely bound to each other and
their institutions since they are part of a derided minority; on the other hand, their
writing becomes imbued with emotions ranging from gloom to self-deprecation to
anger - all more or less expressed ironically, since they are usually writing to an
audience in the same situation and are not expecting the situation to be changed on
account of their complaints.
This has specific implications for the personae of erudite satirists. As I have
argued, it is particularly important for erudite satirists to establish their persona, in
order to have a strong foundation for their arguments or attacks. The foundation for
26
The Three Parnassus Plays (1598-1601) ed. J. B. Leishman (London, 1949).
The First Part of the Return from Parnassus, in Leishman, Three Parnassus Plays, 11. 100-101.
28
The Second Part of the Return from Parnassus, in Leisliman, Three Parnassus Plays, 11. 2075ff.
29
See, among others, White Kennett's poem 'Satyricall Thoughts' (British Library MS Lansdown 936,
ff. 62r-67v). Despite his jaundiced outlook, Kennett became Bishop of Peterborough.
30
Kernan, Cankered Muse, p. 148n. As well as Marston's Lampatho Doria and Ingenioso in The
Second Part of the Return from Parnassus, Keman cites Nashe's Pierce Penilesse and Bosola in The
Duchess ofMalfi as representatives of this type. He also notes that Burton 'traces this pattern' in his
section on 'The Miseries of Scholars' in The Anatomy of Melancholy.
31
Gutleben, 'English Academic Satire', p. 135.
27
21
Dryden, Works, Vol. XII, ed. Vinton Dearing (Berkeley, 1994^, p. 86.
Harold Love discusses the slippery business of attributing authorship to early-modern texts in
Scribal Publication (pp. 235-6).
23
Barbara Jolinstone discusses this in The Linguistic Individual: Self-Expression in Language and
Linguistics ( N e w York and Oxford, 1996), pp. 7 etpassim.
24
M. Lindsay Kaplan, The Culture of Slander in Early Modern England (Cambridge, 1997), pp. 30-2.
25
Julian Ferraro, 'Pope, Rochester and H o r a c e ' in That Second Bottle: Essays on John Wilmot, Earl of
Rochester ed. Nicholas Fisher (Manchester and N e w York, 2000), pp. 119-131.
22
65
64
their authority, in literature and in contemporary society, was their membership of
the educated cultural elite. This was signified by their current or former association
with their university - and therefore they had to make this association clear to their
audience. However, as we have seen, there were certain anxieties attendant on the
authority bestowed by a university education. At times, eruditi found that their own
self-image differed radically from the image foisted upon them by others. Richard
Jenkins suggests that identity consists of a constant interaction between selfdefinition and definition by others. The situation is similar for group identities - the
group identifies and defines itself, and is also identified and defined by others. For
individuals and groups, self-identification messages must be sent out and accepted
by others in order to be effective. Jenkins concludes that 'identities are to be found
and negotiated at their boundaries, where the internal and the external meet'.32 Many
of the satires in this study can be regarded as strategies adopted by eruditi to force
others to accept their version of their institutional identity. However, personae are
masks which can also affect their wearers. For Anthony Cohen, community
membership 'depends upon the symbolic construction and signification of a mask of
similarity which all can wear'.33 In other words, the often disparate members of a
community or institution can adopt this symbolic mask in order to become more like
their fellow members, and thus more strongly bound to their chosen community,
even though they may themselves be aware of differences between their self-image
and that depicted by the mask. However, the attributes of the mask, adopted mainly
for the purposes of displaying a united front to the outside world, can feed back into
the community to influence its self-image.34
Individual erudite satirists participate in this self-definition/group-definition
project by writing about identity at the boundaries. I will illustrate this by discussing
the functions of erudite personae in journey-poems. The genre of travel writing was
enormously popular in the seventeenth century, fuelled both by stories of fabulous
lands such as Utopia, and the journals of Raleigh, Columbus and other famous
voyagers.35 Erudite journey-poems exist as a small subgenre of this larger collection
of writing. Although in some ways very similar to many other travel narratives, the
erudite journey-poem differs in style and intent. Satiric journey-poems often imitate
or parody Horace's Satires I. v, the account of Horace's journey to Brundisium in the
company of Virgil, Maecenas and several other friends.36 Whereas most travellers
32
Jenkins, Social Identity, pp. 22-24.
* Ibid, p. 105.
34
Cohen, Symbolic Construction of Community, p. j5.
35
For a discussion of the ways in which accounts of impossible geographies interact with those of
New World discoveries, see Robert Appelbaum's 'Anti-geography', in Early Modern Literary Studies
4.2 Special Issue 3 (September 1998): 12.1-17, at <http://purl.oclc.org/emls/04-2/appeanti.htm>.
36
It is possible that erudite writers may also have been imitating the writings of medieval wandering
wrote in a spirit of scientific, geographical or sociological enquiry, and intended their
journals to be equally entertaining and didactic, the enidite traveller wrote for a
specific audience of fellow intellectuals, and his intention was to create for himself a
particular persona, located within a particular community. At the same time, he had
to create or re-create the communities or countries through which he travelled, in
order to make the boundaries between them and himself explicit. Thus the journey
serves as a background for the self-conscious reinvention of the narrating author and
of the countryside described.
Travel writing in early-modern England
When a Fellow hath either a Maggot in his Pate, or a Breeze in his Tail, that he cannot
fix long in a place; or perhaps when he hath entitled himself by some misdemeanours
either to the Pilloiy or Gibbet, to disinherit himself of his deserved Right, he flirts into
Holland, or is transported into some Forreign Countrey; where conversing a little
while, he thrusts into th' World the History of his Adventures, he varnisheth over his
Banishment with the Name of Travel, and stiles that his Recreation which was indeed
his Punishment, and so dignifies a Ramble by the name of Journey}1
One of the most famous English travellers of the early seventeenth century was
Thomas Coryate, who set out from Dover on May 14th, 1608, and journeyed on the
Continent for five months, covering a distance of 1975 English miles (at his own
reckoning) on foot. Coryate's main incentive to travel seems to have been a desire
for fame and reputation, and on his return he attempted to have the account of his
travels published, unsuccessfully at first. He persevered, however, and with the
support of the wits of the time, over sixty of whom contributed commendatory verses
(mainly facetious), the work was finally printed in 1611.38 In his introductory
'Epistle to the Reader', Coryate expresses the hope that he might encourage others to
travel. He emphasises the pleasure of seeing new cities, universities and learned
men, ruins where famous people had lived, and the sites of famous battles. For the
Christian traveller, there was consolation to be had in visiting the tombs and
monuments of the saints and Church Fathers. Travel was educational: many learned
men of the ancient world were travellers, including Polybius, Pythagoras and St.
Jerome - all of whom travelled 'to purchase experience and wisdome; that they
scholars, but this seems unlikely, because of the relative obscurity of medieval texts compared with
ancient authors such as Horace, and also because stylistically, seventeenth-century journey poems
have more in common with ancient than medieval texts.
37
W[illiam] R[ichards], Wallography: or The Britton Describ 'd (London, 1682), sig. A4v-A5r.
38
Coryats Crudities (London, 1611). Satirical commendatory verses became a minor genre, the most
notable of which were those written on Davenant's Gondibert {Certain Verses Written by Severall of
the Authors Friends, to be Re-printed with the Second Edition of Gondibert (London, 1653)). The
phenomenon indicates the existence of a circle of literary friends/critics. In Coryate's case, the wits
provide a primary audience for the travelogue, but also attempt to construct Coryate's travelling
persona in somewhat different terms from those used by the author himself.
67
66
might be the better able to benefit their country and common-weale'.39 This dual
emphasis, on the educational function of travel as well as the pleasure derived from
it, is not unusual. Even as recently as the seventeenth century, it was felt that those
who wilfully exposed themselves to the dangers of foreign places were inviting any
trials they might be called upon to endure. Travellers' journals often bear witness to
their writers' sense of God's benevolence in bringing them safely home, as Jill
Bepler shows.40 Joseph Hall, in his Quo vadis? (subtitled A just censure oftravell as
it is commonly undertaken by the gentlemen of our nation), agrees that travel
conducted for 'Matter of trafique, and Matter of State' is justified, adding 'it is the
Travell of curiosity wherewith my quarrell shall bee maintained'.41 Hall's main
quarrel is with Englishmen who travel abros j unnecessarily, risking 'a double
danger; of corruption of religion, and deprauation of manners' - that is to say, they
were exposing themselves to the wiles of the Jesuits, and the influence of ridiculous
continental habits.42 The threat of contagion was not as immediate for travellers who
did not leave their own shores, but Joan Parkes has commented that sustained travel
for reasons other than business was still rare in England in the seventeenth century.
Although this was certainly because travel was difficult and dangerous, the old
notion persisted that travellers were somehow defying God and his natural order by
being constantly on the move.43 The 'vagans', or wandering scholar-clerk, was a
suspicious figure in the sight of the medieval church, which sought to limit and
control the movements of its members. Parkes also comments on the suspicion and
fear encountered by travellers to isolated villages, where strangers were questioned
closely about their business to establish whether or not they might be spies, or
Jesuits.44
This dichotomy, between an almost-guilty pleasure at visiting new and
interesting places, and the serious work of becoming an experienced man able to
'benefit' one's country, is at the heart of much seventeenth-century travel writing.
Even the long title of Coryate's work reflects the traveller's confusion of purpose:
Coryat 's Crudities: Hastily gobled up in five Moneths travells in France, Savoy,
Italy, Rhetia commonly called the Grisons country, Helvetia alias Switzerland, some
39
Coryate, Crudities, sig. b5 r .
40
Jill Bepler, 'The Traveller-Author and his Role in Seventeenth-century German Travel Accounts' in
Travel Fact and Travel Fiction ed. Z. von Martels (Leiden, 1994), passim.
41
Joseph Hall, Quo Vadis? A Just Censure of Travell as it is Commonly Undertaken by the Gentlemen
of our Nation (London, 1617), pp. 2, 5.
42
Ibid., p. 44.
43
Joan Parkes, Travel in England in the Seventeenth Century (Oxford, 1925), p. 280. The dangers of
travel in the 1640s were described vividly by Matthew Robinson, who was forced to make two
separate attempts to reach Cambridge from his home in Rokeby, Yorkshire, in 1645 (Autobiography
of Matthew Robinson ed. Mayor, pp. 13-15).
44
Parkes, Travel in England, p. 299.
parts of high Germany and the Netherlands; Newly digested in the hungry aire of
Odcombe in the County of Somerset, and now dispersed to the nourishment of the
travelling Members of this Kingdome. Coryate presents a burlesque vision of
himself, eating his way through a catalogue of countries and then returning to his
village home and regurgitating his experiences for the edification of his fellow
Englishmen.
"8
It is precisely this indeterminacy about the motive for, and nature of travel
which makes the journey motif so suitable for satiric purposes. Everything about
travel is unstable - or, more accurately, the proceedings can easily be destabilised,
for comic or satiric effect. Routes can change accidentally, or at the whim of the
traveller, towns and villages may be described but not named, or vice versa, invested
with significance or erased from the landscape entirely. The traveller himself is
often uncertain of his location or destination, and unsure of his welcome at that
evening's lodgings. Contributing to this feeling of instability is the episodic nature
of much travel writing. The traveller moves from one place (or incident) to the next,
with little or no continuity of description. As we have seen, this mode of writing is
similar to that preferred by many seventeenth-century satirists, whose work took the
form of semi-epigrammatic episodes linked together by some loose theme or
occasion. In this case, the journey provides the background setting and the satirist
can include practically whatever material he pleases. This throws the spotlight back
onto the narrator, as the one stable character whose voice threads together disparate
material.45 In all the examples of journey-writing explored below, the authortraveller-satirist is a constant and prominent presence. Despite occasional attempts
to cast himself as impartial observer, the traveller is caught up in the action, as much
a part of the journey as the people he meets and places he sees. As is often the case
with satire, these texts are equally concerned with the narrator and the story.
However, the travelling satirist can claim a quasi-scientific detachment from the
foreign people and customs which are his subject. Unlike satirists who situate their
personae in the centre of the society whose evils they attack, the roving satirist is less
open to the accusation of personal animus towards his targets, or to the charge that he
himself is infected by his closeness to the society he claims to hate. The strong
presence of the implied reader (and, by extension, reading circle) gives an intimate,
conversational tone to the works, a sense of shared prior experience influencing the
new experiences being shared, which immediately suggests the existence of other
boundaries between the reading communities to which the narrator belongs, and the
45
Barbara Korte discusses the narrative style of travel literature briefly in English Travel Writing from
Pilgrimages to Postcolonial Explorations trans. Catherine Matthias (Darmstatd, 1996; repr.
Basingstoke and New York, 2000), pp. 9-14.
69
68
wider audience.
Like the business of creating identities, the business of travel is closely linked
with the notion and identification of boundaries. Indeed, to travel at all is to cross
some kind of boundary, between the familiar zone of'home', and the outside world,
the Other. Travel involves a constant negotiation of boundaries and borders,
crossing and re-crossing rivers and roads, into and out of towns and countries. This
necessitates both the recognition of these physical boundaries, and then their
subsequent negation or transgression as the journey is continued. Similarly,
boundaries between individuals or communities are identified by the
traveller/observer. However, while travellers are able to cross geographical or
political borders and move physically into alien countries and cultures,
psychologically they remain outsiders. The most important boundary for a traveller,
which must be kept intact to preserve his sense of self, is that which divides him
from his surroundings. In order to describe what he sees, the traveller must remain at
a distance; and, in turn, the process of describing creates a division between the
observer and the observed.46 This division, exploited by satirists, can be extended
from the individual to the culture: travellers automatically make comparisons
between their own country or customs and those of the place in which they find
themselves.
The erudite traveller
Coryate's account of his continental travels contained elements of both the serious
scientific or antiquarian journey of discovery, and the comic burlesque journey.
While he seems to have been happy to preserve a buffoonish persona, and was
treated as a butt by the circle of wits to which he belonged, nevertheless he was an
educated man with a particular facility for languages. He collected a great number of
Greek and Latin inscriptions during his travels, many of which were published in the
Crudities. Like Coryate, later erudite travellers often concentrate on cataloguing or
recording historical data. Camden's Britannia (1586) had marked the beginning of a
new interest in the study of Britain's antiquities, and erudite travellers such as
Anthony Wood or Thomas Heame visited parish churches and other monuments to
record heraldic devices or genealogies. Other travellers recorded dialect words
peculiar to certain areas, or interviewed the elderly about their memories of earlier
times.47 The rise of experimental science later in the century provoked new interest
46
As Jenkins has argued (Social Identity, pp. 80-81). The process works both ways: defining ourselves
involves defining a range of others, and in defining others, we often make implicit statements about
ourselves.
47
Adam Fox, Oral and Literate Culture, pp. 65-6, 80-83.
in Britain's natural history, with virtuosi making expeditions to collect all kinds of
geological, marine and botanical specimens.48
Anne Goldgar makes some interesting observations about the 'voyage
litteraire' as a way of creating a network of contacts in the Republic of Letters. She
traces the history of Charles-Etienne Jordan's travels from France into the Low
Countries and England in 1733. Jordan's journey was conducted with the aim of
meeting eminent men, which Goldgar construes as an attempt 'to place himself
within the Republic of Letters. She calls the published account of his travels
ostensibly a sort of guidebook of the Republic of Letters . . . But although this was a
mapping of the scholarly community for both Jordan and his readers, it was also an
attempt to change that map by placing Jordan firmly on i t . . . At every turn the issue
seemed to be one of power, of control, and of connections.49
Jordan's serious text simultaneously describes and defines an erudite community,
and constructs the writer's role within that community. The texts discussed below
perform similar functions, though occasionally in a mocking, or at least faintly selfconscious, fashion. In even the most burlesque accounts, however, the issues of
'power', 'control' and 'connections' are present in some form. The different
scholarly voices use subtle discursive strategies to emphasise their power over their
narratives, and hence their control of the way in which their narratives are read, and
their characters constructed.
However, they differ from Jordan's account in that the mood of these erudite
journeys is generally relaxed. The erudite travellers discussed below rarely refer to
their business, if they have any. In their narratives, the journey is an end in itself,
rather than simply the prelude to more important matters. The travellers are learned
dilettantes, often on vacation; they are not intrepid explorers of new worlds, or'
merchants, or statesmen.
Wfilliam] R[ichards]'s Wallography: or The Britton Describ'd (1682) is an
erudite and satirical prose account of the author's travels in 1673 tlirough parts of
England and into Wales. In his 'Epistle Dedicatory', Richards made a seemingly
straightforward claim: lmy Design is to give you a Narrative of what I obsei-v 'd
concerning the Nature of the (1) Soil, and of the (2) Inhabitants, their Original,
Persons, Diet, Apparel, Language, Laws, Customs, Policy, &c'.50 It appears from
this statement that Richards' aim was an accurate and comprehensive account of
Wales and the Welsh. In this, he professed to imitate 'Alexander of Greece, who . . .
as he went dragooning about the World, describ 'd the wandrings, and (as it were)
Thomas Johnson described an early botanical expedition in her Plantarum Investigation's ergo
Susceptum a Decent Socijs, in Agrum Cantianum ([London?], 1629).
49
Goldgar, Impolite I arning, pp. 219, 222.
50
Richards, Wai ^rat-hy, sig. A4 r .
71
70
the TomCoriatism of his Expeditions'. His reference to Coryate is accompanied by a
blurring the boundaries between genres.
footnote: "Tom Coriai was a silly Travellor, who in King James his time beat upon
Much of the Wallography actually describes the English countryside. When
he finally reaches Wales, Richards does begin to address his stated aim of informing
his readers about the inhabitants, customs and geography of the country. However,
he describes only to mock, in a narrative that is intentionally comic. His account of
Welsh habits is a generally disparaging, the subtext being a commentary on the
Welsh nation's inferiority to the English. 'They are &rude People, and want much
Instruction' (p. 80), he claims, linking their uncivil nature to the land itself- 'the soil
from whence they sprang, and the Deserts aix! Mountains wherein they wander' (p.
80). However, Richards also includes a progress report on the gradual erosion of
boundaries between the two nations. He is encouraged to entertain 'some
glimmering hopes that [in the future] the Brittish Lingua may be quite extinct, and
may be English 'd out of Wales, as Latin was barbarously Goth 'd out of Italy" (p.
124).
the hoof about two or three thousand miles,, and return'd home as very a Cox-combe
as he went out. See his Travels call'dhis Crudities' By calling attention to such
noted (though apparently dissimilar) travellers as Alexander and Coryate, Richards
emphasised the role of the traveller, who was the narrator ••:;•'<. \%n accG.it. He adds
that there was no need to look abroad for examples of th>- •>'• jf writing, ?<i> he had
'so many Precedents at home',
... seeing every one almost that hath but untruss'd in a Forreign Country, will have his
Voyage recorded, and every Letter-Carrier beyond Sea would be thought a Drake or a
Candish, / thought with my self why may not I have the liberty of relating my Journey,
and of communicating my Observations to Mankind^
His mentioning Coryate, coupled with the irony of this final remark, prepares the
reader for Richards' revelation, later in the 'Epistle Dedicatory', that the account will
not be a serious one. He expressed to his dedicatee, Sir Richard Wenman, the hope
that Wenman might 'find so much Coraoedy in this Walk, as may dispose you to
smile away an hour in the perusal ofit\ Further explanation followed:
A Taphy is observ'd to be a Trickish Animal, that hath a Vein of Jack-puddinism
running through all his Actions, and therefore I thought it not improper to sprinkle here
and there somewhat of the Blew-jacket, and to Merry-Andrew my Progress a little
farther as I went with jocund Observations, that the History might be agreeable to the
Matter it treats of. So that if a Welch-man is a Jest, as all the World account him a
Living Pur,, a walking Conundrum and a breathing Witticism; Then have I made one
Joke upon another, (sig. A6V)
It appears that, in accordance with most travel writers of the period, Richards set out
both to inform and entertain his audience. However, during the course of the
narrative, the reader discovers that actually Richards has put far more emphasis on
the second of his goals. Rather than making the history agreeable to the matter, as he
claims he will do, Richards interprets his matter in a way which conforms to his plan
for the history. This relationship, between the matter, or content, and the history, or
the account given of certain events, is crucial to both travel-writing and satire.
Travel-writers present readers with a set of facts which have been interpreted in a
certain way, but still (more or less) aim at a naturalistic representation of reality.
Similarly, the caricatures or images delineated by a satirist must be recognisable
representations of their originals, however much they have been defamiliarised for
comic or satiric puiposes. The fact that he makes a distinction between the content
and the story signals to the reader that Richards is consciously manipulating the
'facts' of the journey, thus undermining his claims to verisimilitude, and further
51
Ibid., sig. A4V-A5V.
The style throughout is inflated, keeping up the humorous conflict between
epic language and rustic subject in his descriptions of landscape and inhabitants
alike. He passes through a cornfield, where
The Diameter of a Path run through the midst, whose Poles were transverse or thwarted
the hinges of the World. 'Twas environ'd on both sides with a Sea of Corn, which being
mov'd by the breath of JEolus, (that Bellows of the World) what a Flux and Re-flux was
there of waves of Wheat! We pass'd through this Territory and Dominion of Ceres with
the most exalted delight.
(p. 37)
The narrative bristles with metaphors, Biblical and classical imagery, incongruous
mathematical and geographical terms, and unusual word-forms such as 'globosity',
and 'excrementitioiis'.52 The countryside is stretched or shrunk into disproportionate
dimensions - 'a little Arabia of sand', 'an Alps of Straw, with Swine (instead of
Snow) a groveling a-top on't' - as are the caricatured inhabitants. Similarly,
Richards exaggerates and magnifies small incidents until they swell into comically
grotesque proportions, as illustrated by his encounter with some industrious stonecutters, in which the men are strongly identified with their work, and with the rocky
ground itself.
We advane'd to the Orifice of this Lapideous Womb, where were hewing Moicals, by
cruel Midwifery digging out the Offspring of teeming Earth. 'Twas an unpolish 'd
spectacle, and the Workmen were as rough and uneven as the Prospect; and the
Artificers were as intractable and stubborn as the Materials, or Object of their Art. Two
of the most Brawny Paviers stood lolling by the Mattock that pickt them out, and a
52
This could be an attempt to parody Coryate's style - as well as for his sometimes bizarre
descriptions of situations, he was notorious for the invention of words (see Michael Strachan, The Life
and Adventures of Thomas Coiyate (London, 1962), p. 117). Richards had already directed his
readers to Coiyate's Cmdities, as though to point out the relationship between Ccryate's text and his
own parodic one.
73
72
single one in a decumbent posture lay prostrate at their feet, whose Northern Extremity
perform'd the Office of a Pedestal to the Embiyo of a Statue, which was but newly
hatcht, and fashion'd in a bed of Sand. (p. 40)
This highly metaphorical and allusive style serves to obfuscate, rather than elucidate
Richards's descriptions of the countryside and characters. It turns the narrative into a
burlesque journey through the landscape of Richards's memory and imagination, in
which the author is a constantly visible and self-conscious narrating presence. While
not strictly a satire in imitation of Horace, nevertheless Richards's work illustrates
the instability of the boundaries between the verse or prose travel journal and forms
of travel-satire - while purporting to write the former, he repeatedly slides into the
latter.
Latin journeys
Thomas Master's Iter Boreale is an account of his journey from Wales into the
Midlands, written in Latin prose and verse.53 As might be expected, the verse
passages represent the countryside in appropriately lyrical language, while the prose
sections provide a more pedestrian description of distances, towns and travel
conditions. Master is not a satirist, even though he uses the Menippean mixture of
verse and prose. Rather, he presents himself as a learned antiquarian, interested in
places and names. He documents the topographical features of the country through
which he travels, mentioning in particular the caves at Nottingham, Watling Street
and other Roman remains, Offa's dyke, rivers and mountains. Hs reflects on the
legacy of Rome in a short verse interlude inspired by the sight of the Severn river
(the Latin Sabrina) and the town of Wroxeter (Viroconium),
Cui Romulece prisca Cohortis
Statiofamam dedit ceternam,
Cum cceruleus frcena Britannus
Fene Italica, & Dominum, disceret;
Flens venerari Sabrina Tibrim.
Ast aerio vertice Ccelum
Pulsans, tribuit nomina Uricon,
Qui sylvosd in Zephyrum fronte
Arietat, ahum & nebula nigrd
Capui i,;r:/hens, certa Agricolis
Tollit ph. vice signafuturce.SA
"Oxford, 1675.
54
Master, Iter Boreale, pp. 3-4. '[Wroxeter] to which the ancient post of the Romulean cohort gave
eternal fame, when the blue-eyed [or painted with blue woad] Briton learned to bear the Italian
bridles, and the lamenting Severn to worship her master, the Tiber. But the Wrekin gave it [the town]
its name, which, striking the heavens with its airy peak, with its leafy brow butts against the West
Wind, and enveloping its lofty head in black cloud, gives a sure sign to farmers of approaching rain.'
Gavin Berts has identified the metre as the anapaestic quatemarius.
Thomas Bispham's Iter Australe is written in a similar vein, though slightly
more heroic, being written entirely in Latin hexameters.55 Falconer Madan describes
the poem as the 'account of a Queen's college progress made by the provost and
some of the fellows, with Bispham a gentleman commoner of the college, to view
some of the college property'.56 Bispham was given the task of memorialising the
journey, dedicated to Thomas Barlow, provost of Queen's. Their journey took them
through Abingdon, Salisbury, Winchester to Sherborne in Hampshire. Despite the
official nature of the progress, Bispham does not emphasise its mission or refer,
except in the most general terms, to his scholarly companions. He was less
interested in historical than contemporary landmarks, describing market day at
Abingdon, Salisbury Cathedral, the house and grounds of Wilton, and Winchester
school. Bispham's entire journey is narrated in a heroic style, beginning with a
formal invocation of his Muse, 'Quo te Musa pedes? ant quas concedis ad oras?'
(1. 1), and going on to invoke a deity particularly appropriate for his excursion,
'Ingenii dux atque viae Cyllenius Hermes' (1. 10). Barlow is addressed as Apollo,
and Bispham seems to have taken some pains to include as many members of the
pantheon as possible in his account. His journey, like Master's, is not described
satirically, and his closing sentiments clearly echo Horace in praising the joys of
country life:
Et cui non placuit parvos coluisse penates
Atque humiles habitasse casas? Sic aurea quondam
Secula, sic vitam in terris Sarumus agebat.
(11. 410-12)
In the same way, Master's aside 'quis cceterorum / Nomina carminibus coarctet?'
(p. 2) recalls Horace's 'oppidulo, quod versu dicere non est', and perhaps also
reminds the reader of the artifice used by the poet in describing the natural world.57
While ostensibly praising country life, they continue to remind readers of their
position as eruditi, and so distance themselves from the reality of what they describe.
Adam Fox has discussed the important part landscape played in the historical
narratives of early-modem English countrypeople, for whom geological or
topographical features could be the work of supernatural beings, and ancient
monuments reminders of their forebears' successes and defeats.58 However, Master
and Bispham ignore or erase these memories and replace them with their own erudite
fictions, which have similarly been prompted by aspects of the landscape.59 By
writing in Latin about the features of an English landscape, Master overlays the
everyday countryside with images of a classical heritage, as though seeing his
" Thomas Bispham, her Australe, a Reginensibus Oxon ([London, 16581)
Madan, no. 2364.
57
Horace, Satires I.v.87.
58
Fox, Oral and Literate, pp. 213 ff.
As the medieval monks did when writing their chronicles, according to Fox.
56
7'5
74
country through Roman eyes. Bispham behaves similarly, although his text is more
panegyrical than antiquarian in tone. Chris Fitter alludes to this tendency when he
speaks of'the dialectical construction of environmental 'reality' though the interplay
of the physical with the psychical universe'.60 The land traversed and described by
thess authors is their own, but it is defamiliarised by the application of a new pointof-view, winch both erases the boundaries between England and Rome, and builds
them up by emphasising the distance in time between the act of narration and the
enaction of the events narrated. Whilst creating this particular landscape, suitable for
themselves as erudite authors and others of the intellectual, Latin-speaking
community, Masters and Bispham also re-create themselves as suitable inhabitants of
this new landscape. By writing in Latin, they effectively exclude those who cannot
understand the language - even those countrypeople whose characters are
(paradoxically) present in the narratives, having undergone a literal and figurative
translation from their English to their Latin embodiments.
Horatian journeys
In the summer of 1583, a small group of travellers set out from Oxford. Tobie
Mathew, Dean of Christ Church, was on bis way to Durham, where he would take up
his new position as Dean of Durham Cathedral. His companions were Anthony
Blenkowe, Provost of Oriel, Richard Eedes of Christ Church, junior proctor of the
university, and Matthew Harrison, an Oxford innkeeper.01 Apparently, Eedes at least
had intended to go only 'one dayes Journey' with the company before returning to
Oxford 62 However, he made the whole journey, and memorialized it in Latin verse
as Mter Boreale'. In her edition of the work, Dana F. Sutton shows that the poem
became well known among Christ Church contemporaries.63 It has also been
credited with beginning the tradition of satirical verse travelogues in the Horatian
style composed by Oxford wits (and others) throughout the seventeenth century.
As Sutton points out, the poem is an early travel narrative, describing towns,
inns, and some of the monuments encountered by the travellers on the road north.
Leland and Camden's descriptions of Britain were still new, and there was novelty
value in news of conditions in ths rustic north. Like Horace, Eedes accompanied a
public figure on official business. Affairs at Durham were in some disarray, owing
60
Chris Fitter, Poetry, Space, Landscape: Toward a New Theory (Cambridge, 1995), p. 5.
For the circumstances of the joumey and brief biographical notices of the travellers, see the
introduction to Dana F. Sutton's recent edition of 'Iter Boreale' in her Oxford Poetry by Richurd
Eedes and George Peele (New York and London, 1995).
62
Sir Join Harington, A Briefe View of the State of the Church of England, as it Stood in Q.
Elizabeths and King James his Reigne, to the Yeere 1608 (London, 1653), p. 197; quoted in Sutton,
Oxford Poetry, p. 4.
63
Sutton, Oxford Poetry, pp. 20-21.
to a gap in the succession of Deans, and the incompetence of the incumbent Bishop,
Richard Barnes. Mathew found his task difficult and his reception in Durham cool.
Eedes reports this, giving a satirical edge to his depiction of the dull northern
clergymen and their boorish Bishop. The whole narrative is sprinkled with clerical
news: where Mathew preached, how he was received by parishioners and fellow
clergymen, the (to Eedes's eyes) appallingly Low Church tendencies of many
northerners, and their tedious sermons. Like Jordan's narrative of his journey around
the Republic of Letters, Eedes's joumey created a social map for his audience: in his
case, naming and placing certain clergymen in the northern parts of England. To his
Clirist Church audience, at least, he demonstrated the network of contacts (from
whom they, like Eedes. might legitimately claim assistance or at least recognition)
which extended from Oxford throughout the kingdom. By giving his audience a
sense of their own place in this extended family, Eedes confirms (or perhaps imposes
upon them) their own characters as Anglican clergyman of a correctly High Church
persuasion.
At the same time, Eedes showed how this map was itself located in the sphere
of politics. While they lingered, news of Sir Francis Walsingham's imminent arrival
in Durham prevented the departure of Eedes and his companions. Walsingham was
returning from a diplomatic mission to James VI in Scotland, and Sutton speculates
that he visited Durham with the purpose of ensuring the diocese was firmly in hand,
in light of tension in the north.64 As a result, Eedes was able to describe Mathew's
meeting with the Secretary of State and his retinue of nobles. As Sutton points out,
Eedes's own chances of preferment were bolstered by this meeting, a situation that
his Christ Church audience would have understood intuitively. They would also
have been amused by a familiar attempt at point-scoring on Bishop Barnes's part: he
went out furthest from the city so as to meet Walsingham first. This was a standard
tactic when visiting dignitaries came to town, but Eedes reported happily that
Walsingham had been unimpressed.65
The story is told from a distinctly Oxonian vantage point. The narrative is
enlivened with classical tags, Latin wordplay, and a Latinizing tendency which
substitutes characters from Roman myth for the everyday people met on the road.
The travellers' hostess at Aberford is a woman who Eedes describes as 'viduata
Philemone Baucis' - 'a Baucis, widowed of her Philemon'.66 Like most travel
writers, Eedes assiduously records his good and bad meals, and he describes the beer
64
Ibid., pp. 14-16.
lter Boreale 4 , 11. 423-9. Similar scuffles for precedence between corporation and university took
place at Oxford and Cambridge (see chapter four, pp. 112-3 below).
66
1. 63. The translation if. Sutton's.
65 l
§
76
77
;s
Donatoq[ue] jocis inter mala seria abutL72 (11. 30-4)
67
provided by this Baucis as 'Bacchum Cereris, non Bacchum e vitibus ortum'. It
may have struck his audience as mildly amusing that the rural gods of Rome were
alive and well, and living in West Yorkshire. In a moment of southern superiority,
Eedes reveals that the travellers were not surprised at finding poor preaching in
Durham, because they had expected nothing better. Finally, on his return, his rustic
northern muse departs suddenly when he sees Oxford - 'Oxoniae turres et moenia . .
. ' culta bonis studiis, doctis cultissima Musis' - as though northern scenes are too
uncouth to enter the city even in Latin verse.68 These elements are found in many of
the later journey-poems. Though there was an element of anxiety about the reasons
for the journey and the situation at Durham, Eedes treats his material lightheartedly.
He gives equal attention to the geographical features of the landscape, the people he
meets, and the political situation he describes, in a way that had particular relevance
for his immediate audience of fellow Oxford scholars.
Something about Eedes's style must have caught the imaginations of his
contemporaries, because the verse description of journeys in the Horatian mode
seems to have become a popular form at Oxford. Peter Heylyn's biographer, George
Vernon, claimed that Heylyn 'very much endeared himself to the President and
Fellows [of Magdalen College, Oxford] by a facetious Latine Poem upon a Journey
that he made with his two Tutors, unto Woodstock'.69 Other English examples exist
in manuscript, and no doubt more will be found.70 John Earle (16017-1665) wrote
his Satyra Itineraria in Latin hexameters, describing a journey taken one summer by
himself and several companions from Oxford to York.71 Like other Oxford
travellers, Earle established his persona firmly at the outset of his poem, describing
the unaccustomed (and tedious) emptiness of a university town deserted for the
summer:
Cessarat fremitusqfue] fori, stridorq[ue] Tabemae;
Rarus et in triviis campisq[ue] en-are Togatus:
Cauponasq[ue] eadem Musasq[ue] silentia claudunt.
Jam taedet languere domi, vel tempore amoeno
I
?•?»«
0
1
vis*
The solution was a journey to Earle's native town of York, accompanied at least part
of the way by 'Municipes quatuor, veteres charique sodales' (1. 47).73 After some
difficulties in procuring decent mounts (a theme that was to become a commonplace
in Oxford travel-verse), they set off.
On the road Earle and his companions were faced with perennial travellers'
annoyances, in the form of bad roads, bad inns, and bad food. Earle calls the
Northamptonshire town of Brackley 'the ruin of an impecunious stranger, where I
have never had a worse or more expensive lunch' (11. 69-70).74 They were luckier at
Daventry, where they encountered an innkeeper called Daniel who poured generous
measures of ale: 'Nee bulla spumante gulam defraudat inanem; / Sed plenos cyathos,
mensuratasq[ue] lagenas / Implet' (11. 106-8).75 The poet and his friends spent a long
and rowdy evening at this inn.
Though he notes some of the features of the countryside through which he
passes, Earle is more interested in their contemporary significance than their
antiquarian or geographical importance. On the road between Lutterworth and
Leicester he passes 'valli speciem, monumenta ligonis / Romani' (11, 210-11), which,
'••"si
•m
he says
a Batavis, si viveret, oris
Lipsiacum mereanfur iter, cui rudera tanti
Et pulvis Romanus erat: quo nemo papyro
BellSrit melior; pictamve obsederit urbem.
Sed nunquam Critico duce pugnavere phalanges.76
i
His comment on those who believed Mountsorrel in Leicestershire had been moved
by the devil is 'they are the greater wonder, who believe such things' (1. 344).
Earle's travelling persona is a hard-headed scholar, not a fanciful collector of country
mythology.
Like Eedes and other erudite travellers, Earle describes the religious character
of the countryside. He attends a service at Mansfield and, unlike Eedes, finds the
preaching good - though, like Eedes, he tells his audience that his expectations had
been low.77 Earle gives a long description of the country parson whose sermon he
s7
1. 68. Literally, 'the Bacchus of Ceres, not the Bacchus bom of the vine'. A few lines earlier, Eedes
had made a weak pun on 'March' ale (traditionally stronger than other brews): 'potu / tarn forti, ut
vere dicatur Martius esse' (11. 58-9).
68
11. 654-5.
69
Venion, Life of Peter Heylyn, p. 9; the poem, if extant, has not been identified.
For example, Bennett and Trevor-Roper note 'an anonymous p o e m . . . on "a journey from Oxon. to
Bradway"' in Corpus Christi College MS 176, f. 24V. They also list 'George Withers's her Boreale' as
lost (Poems of Richard Corbett, pp. 118-9).
71
The poem can be found in Folger Shakespeare Library MS V.a.170. pp. 127-153 (I am very grateful
to Heather Wolfe at the Folger for her assistance in obtaining a copy). There is some uncertainty over
the details of Earls's early career at Oxford: college records suggest he matriculated at Christ Church
College in 1619; however, according to Wood's 'Fasti' he took his BA as a member of Merton
College in 1619, and became a Fellow of the college in the same yeav (DNB). He proceeded MA in
1624.
72
11. 30-4: 'The noise of the town square and the tavern's din had ceased; and the occasional
gownsman no longer wandered on sheet comers and fields. The same silence closes inns and the
Muses. Now it is wearisome to lie about at home, or amid unpleasant business to waste the delightful
time which has been allotted for play'.
73
'Four townsmen, old and dear friends'.
74
'Brackley, pemiciem male nummati hospitis, in quam / Vilius haud unquam pransus sum, aut
charius unquam'.
75
'He does not cheat the empty throat with foaming froth, but pours full cups, and brimming flagons'.
76
11. 211-15: '[the sight] would be worthy of a journey by Lipsius from Bavarian climes, if he were
alive, so highly did he value Roman rubble and dust. No better man than he coud make war with paper
or beseige a town's picture - but no ranks ever fought under the critic's leadership'.
77 ,
aures invitant pulpita nostros, / Docto implenda viro, cui multa et sobri fronte / Ernicuit gravitas,
79
78
praises, comparing his performance favourably with the histrionics of more
rough; but had the Poetts seene / Straight, euen Trent, it had immortall bin' (11.198-
751
fashionable preachers.
Employing a similar tone and subject matter to Eedes and Earle, though writing
in English, the most popular of these Oxford journey-poems was Richard Corbett's
'Iter Boreale'.79 Like Earle, Corbett sets the scene in his opening lines, and
establishes the persona of the wandering satirist:
Foure Clerkes of Oxford, Doctours two, and two
That would be Docters, having lesse to do
With Augustine then with Galen in vacation,
Chang'd studyes, and tum'd bookes to recreation
native countryside through Roman ey *s - 'Mceander was a theame / Crooked and
200). Corbett's attention is divided between the story of the physical journey - the
inns, tapsters, meals and scenery - and the stories of the places he visits. For
example, the host of their inn at Bosworth guides them on their way, giving at the
same time a history of the Battle of Bosworth Field which is so detailed that Corbett
suspects 'He had Authenticke notice, from the Play' (1, 346) - a theory confirmed
'when he would have sayd, King Richard dyed, / And call'd, a horse, a horse; he,
Burbidge cry'de' (11. 351-2).82 References to serious, politically importani: events are
(11. 1-4)
Having identified himself and his companions as scholars on vacation, Corbett
continues in the Horatian manner, describing people, places, and noteworthy features
of the countryside. He keeps up a light, conversational tone, directly addressing
some of the characters he describes in the course of the poem - 'you wretched
Tapsters' (1.91), and 'Thou Ostler-Phoenix' (1.184), even the statues 'that doe
Guild-hall and Holmeby keepe . .. You are good Giants' (11.159, 161). Like Eedes,
he has the travel-writer's preoccupation with food, describing Lutterworth as 'a
towne / Not willing to be noted or sett downe / By any Traveller; for . . . wee could
not finde an Inne' (11. 60-2), and later, 'Though greiv'd at heart to leave a Castle so. /
. . . wee must eate; / Noe sorrow can descend soe deepe as meate' (11. 164-6). He
gives a classical atmosphere to one dinner: 'wee had ven'son; such as Virgill slew /
When he would feast jEneas and his crew' (11. 23-4), an image which conflates their
own journey with Aeneas's epic voyage as described by Vergil, and simultaneously
alerts the reader to the artifice involved in its description. He was also echoing
Eedes, who quoted the Aeneid directly in his line 'implemur veteris Bacchi,
pi.nguisque ferinae' ('we ate our fill of vintage wine and plump venison').80
Corbett incorporates various styles of writing into his journey-poem, which is
easily done when his subject allows him to move from one place to another, both
literally and thematically. He juxtaposes a passage lamenting tapsters' false
reckonings with one, inspired by the graves of Richard III and Cardinal Wolsey,
which reflects on the fragility of a man's posthumous reputation, and follows this
with a description of Nottinghamshire's underground houses.81 The river Trent and
its environs are depicted in a section which approaches panegyric, again viewing the
facundia nee minor oris: / Et qualem obscuro rninime expectaveris agro' (11. 419-21).
78
Though too long to include here, this description is of interest, given Earle's authorship of
Microcosmographie (1628). It is not a character as such, but shows Earle's appreciation of character
types.
Poems of Richard Corbett, pp. 31-49.
80
Eedes, 'Iter Boreale', 1. 57. Sutton points out that Eedes altered implemur from implentur (Aeneid,
1.215; Sutton, Oxford Poetiy, p. 101).
Sl
Eedes had mentioned the cave-dwellings in his narrative ('Iter Boreale', 11. 42-4).
contrasted with comic country-life vignettes.
The religious boundaries are clearly drawn between Nonconformist, Catholic
and High-Church Anglican. Corbett manages to mock both Catholics and Puritans in
his description of an arch-deacon, who, we are told, looks like 'Lord Abbot of some
Covent standing yet, / A corpulent Relique: marry and tis sinne / Some Puritan gets
not his face call'd in' (11. 434-6). When the travellers reach Banbury (a Puritan
stronghold), the tone of the poem darkens, Corbett becoming harsh in his satire
against the Nonconformists. He addresses them pointedly, after seeing
your Gallery
Where all your Medly meete; and doe compare,
Not what you leame, but who is longest there;
The Puritan, the Anabaptist, Brownist,
. Like a grand sallet (11.482-6)
The lines 'in such prophane abuses / Good Wiipps make better Verses, then the
Muses' (11. 495-6) identify Corbett's desire that his own verses be seen as inspired
more by the muses than the whip of the Elizabethan satyr. However, he immediately
continues to attack the Puritans, claiming that they will soon have their church
rac't downe, and cal'd Apocryphal,
And in some Barne heare cited many an Author,
Kate Stubbs, Anne Askew, or the Ladyes daughter;
Which shall be urg'd for Fathers.
(11.500-503)
This conflict between Corbett's expression of his anger at the Puritans and his desire
to maintain a light tone is only resolved at the end of the journey: 'Stopp disdaine, /
When Oxford once appears, Satyre refraine' (11. 503-504). His closing couplet is
taken from Horace's satires (Book I, Satire iv): 'Non recito cuiquam nisi amicis,
idque coactus, / Non ubivis, coramve quibuslibet\ a claim which suggests he is
following Horace's theory about satire, and that his poem is ostensibly written for the
audience of his friends.
82
See again Fox's discussion of the oral nature of much early-modem local history, and in particular,
the way these memories could be influenced by printed (or in this case, theatrical) accounts {Oral and
Literate Culture, pp. 242ff).
80
• 81
Corbett's erudite traveller is introduced in the opening les of the poem as a
scholar who has 'chang'd studyes' (1. 4), implying that although he has swapped
books for recreation, this in itself can still be defined as study. The narrator's
implied criticism of the countrypeople's historical and cultural knowledge
distinguishes it from Corbett's own learning, and that of his erudite audience. For
the greater part of the poem, Corbett's satiric persona is gently and rather
condescendingly mocking, as his anecdotes subtly point out the differences between
his friends and the countrypeople. However, the sharpness of his anti-Puritan satire
emphasises (and perhaps publicly bolsters) his position as an Anglican divine, and
future bishop. Corbett, who was well-known at Oxford as a bon vivant, was perhaps
reinforcing his clerical credentials.83
them to reinforce his poem's overriding nostalgia for country life and country values.
His final remarks bid farewell to Heywood Hall with the wish that 'heere my poore
fortunes setled were, / Far from ye courtes ambition, citties strife' (11. 354-5). This in
itself sets him apart from other erudite travellers, who were uniformly eager to return
to the muses at Oxford.
The travelling scholar figure appears again in Henry Bold's 'A Journey from
Oxon, 1656'.86 A colloquial account of a journey from Oxford to London, the poem
is addressed to 'Hall' at the beginning and again in the body, and contains references
to mutual acquaintances, implying an audience of Oxford familiars. Bold sets off
from the inn 'at the Sign of Babe and Eagle' (1. 9), complaining about the slowness
of his horse (a common theme). He overtakes 'a City Oyl-man* (1. 40), and a drover,
whose boast that 'in every Town, I Upon the Rode, for half a Crown. I I'me fumisht
out, with trim Baggages' (11. 99-101), Bold deflates with the interjection 'Nay! he
would undertake for five pound, / From mount, to th'peer, the wives, to
S[wive]round' (11. 103-4). These three drink together 'at sign oth' St. George', and
Bold makes his own boast, of how 'drunk [he] made the Wights, at Wicchani'
(1. 116). This episode has its sequel at the inn at Beaconsfield, when Bold, now in
the company of 'the Drolling Dr Wilson' (1.133) and 'Schollers three' (1. 135), is
reunited with his drinking companions of the previous evening:
Richard James's 'Iter Lancastrense', written in 1636, is an English verse
example of travel-writing which probably owes something to Corbett and the
Horatian tradition, though it is not satirical.84 James describes various tours he
makes to notable places in Lancastershire, mainly those with antiquarian interest.
His narrative speculates on place-names, local mythology, and the activities of
ancestral landowners - particularly their exploits in battle. Like Masters, he is
interested in how the landscape had been shaped and imagined by successive
generations of Britons. On travelling a 'Roman waye', he remarks
Empire condignly was to Romans due.
Our wayes are gulphs of durte and mire, which none
Scarce passe in summer withoute moane
Whilst theirs through all yc world were no lesse free
Of passadge then ye race of Wallisee,
Ore broken moores, deepe mosses, lake and fenne,
Now worcks of Giants deemd, not arte of men.
In Drover comes, and mar. of Oyl,
Their Brains, with Mutton broth, half-setled
(For Wicchmn-Ak, them shrewdly netted.)
At v/hom we laugh till after mid-night,
When us to Kennel, Drawers did light.
But they, being drinkers, but for need,
And not for Custome, mark their speed!
They were as sick, as Dogs, next morning
As who would take it, for a warning. (11. 138-46)
(11. 44-50)
A footnote speculates that the local tradition of giant inhabitants may have stemmed
from the similarity between the Dutch word for giant and a local place-name.
James's questioning of his countrymen's traditional explanations for phenomena
such as the red-spotted pebbles at St. Winifred's well sets him apart from their
simple lives. He is more willing to attribute folk stories to the 'craftie fables' of
medieval monks - in this cr:. attempting to profit from the supposedly therapeutic
effect of the waters.85 At 'Ormeschurch' he meets an old man who tells him 'you
gentlemen at ease, / Whoe money haue, and goe where ere you please, / Are never
quiett' (11. 127-9). The words serve to emphasise the erudite traveller's essential
difference from the countrypeople he meets on his journey. However, James uses
j
\
st
Bold differentiates between himself and his scholar-friends, who apparently drink by
'Custome', and the working-men who drink for 'need' and cannot hold their ale. Not
only are their fellow-travellers a source of amusement to the lively scholars, but they
also provide a salutary 'warning' about the ill-effects of drink - a warning which
Bold dutifully points out, but does not seem to be in any danger of taking to heart.
The innkeeper at Beaconsfield introduces his tapster son to Bold as 'a man of
Learning' (1. 153), a claim which Bold says was 'beyond [his] Discerning' (1. 154),
but which he is asked to believe 'Because his Tutor, was his Father' (1.156). Bold
jokingly tells his friend that the father and son 'were so alike {God bless 'em! / Fo~
83
See especially his life in Bennett and Trevor-Roper's edition.
her Lancastrense: a Poem Written AD 1636 by the Rev. Richard James ed. Thomas Corser
(Manchester, 1845).
85
1. 223.
84
Henry Bold, 'A Journey from Oxon, 1656' in Poems Lyrique, Macaronique, Heroiquc, etc.
(London, 1664). Bold's work escaped the notice of Bennett and Trevor-Roper in their catalogue of
Oxford journey-poems.
83
82
Scholarship (I speak to please 'em!) / Ut Canibus catulV (11.157-9). He puts them
to the test:
Go on (quoth I) with your Qui mihi But he would ha't hcec ades, though
I cry'd, t'was then, hue animo}1
Then 'bout we drink (for I would ha't in)
• Till not two words of (but all) Latin,
Was spoke ith' Room: mine Host could talk ne're
A word of English, like the Falkner.
Oth' Marquess, but next drawing deep
Put him to silence, and to sleep. (11. 160-8)
The son attempts a verse-capping duel with Bold, but finally, 'Captus, / Mbritate,
minus Aptus' (11. 175-6), he too falls down in a drunken stupor, leaving Bold to
continue his journey. This interlude, another example of the mock-heroic battle,
testifies to the ubiquity of Latin culture. It is precisely this common (though
superficial) acquaintance with Latin grammar that necessitates Bold's and other
erudite writers' emphasis on the distance between the true Oxford scholar and a local
countryman with the rudiments of learning. The frequent interjections, Latin
phrases, colloquial tone, elaborately contrived rhymes, and jaunty metre all heighten
the sense that the poem was written for a particular audience of the poet's close
friends.
Jeremiah Wells's 'Iter Orientale' (1667) is similar in tone, although his poem
is addressed To the Reverend President', presumably of St. John's College where
Wells was a scholar.88 Again, the journey begins mock-heroically in Oxford, the
scholars scrounging every item of their outfit from friends - 'greater preparations
far' (1. 24) than those of General Monck, with whose concurrent foray against the
Dutch Wells compares his own expedition.89 The companions have no difficulty in
finding horses though, because 'The Towns-men dare'nt deny us for their lives, / But
let their Jades as freely as their Wives' (11. 53-4). The scholar's tone of humorous
condescension persists throughout his encounters with such figures as an ancient
tapster, a fat country parson, and a drunken village constable. Similarly, Wells
describes 'a Heathenish crew' (1. 120) of waggoners he meets on his journey: 'To cry
Gee Tib and Ball is all they ken, / Men only to their Beasts, and Beasts to Men'
(11. 125-6). In a more satirical vein, Wells mentions the church where 'the Devil laid
the Cornerstone' (1. 230), reflecting on this claim with 'I can't believe't: if Devils
87
Qui mihi refers to a section of Lily's standard Latin grammar - in other words, schoolboy Latin.
Published in Wells's Poems upon Divers Occasions With a Character of a London Scrivener
(London, 1667).
89
Possibly a reference to Robert Wild's popular political poem Iter Boreale (1660), celebrating
General Monck's earlier expedition and his part in the Restoration. See Poems on Affairs of State,
Vol. I, pp. 3-19.
88
•V
11
f
I
i
V
Churches founded, / For certain they'd be ne're pull'd down by Roundhead' (11. 2356). For most of the poem, however, Wells writes in a jocular style about the
landscape and various towns through which the travellers pass, including the usual
commentary on the worth of the inns they favour with their custom. A more solemn
note is sounded when they reach London, smoke marking the place before they see
the city. Wells orders his muse to 'Be serious now . . . while thou dost spy, / Sad
emblems of the late mortality' (11. 355-6). With passages such as this, and several
references to General Monck, Wells links the trivial events of the journey with
affairs of national significance, as Corbett had done previously - perhaps
intentionally recalling the politically-charged atmosphere of Horace's journey to
Brundisium. Like Corbett and Eedes, Wells identifies Oxford as a place to be treated
with reverence, rather than satirized: he describes it as a 'merry Town / Which
glitte'ring with the Sun's reflected ray / Shew'd Sweetly Dreadfull, Terrible and
Gay' (11. 76-8). With London, Oxford is for these erudite writers a place too
significant to be mentioned lightly or mockingly. It is characteristic in literature for
scholars to be strongly identified with one place, whether it be a study (as in Donne's
first satire), or library, or university town. The writers discussed here cross the
traditional boundaries of the scholar-persona by leaving their studies (both mentally
and physically) to roam at large in the world, but the study, or university, remains a
powerful presence in their poems, as the safe haven of learning and refinement to
which they return after their wanderings.
In all these texts there is a strong sense of the reality of the journey. Theauthors situate their travels in both time and place, often recording the date on which
they set forth, their reasons for travel, their itineraries, and the identities of their
companions. These details, found also in Horace's satire, anchor the journeys firmly
in the real world, differentiating them from the parodic or burlesque imaginary
journeys (such as that described in Joseph Hall's Mundus Alter et Idem) which are
also used as vehicles for satire. Horace's journey to Brundisium situated the poet
near the centre of political power at Rome. These Oxford authors are not able to do
the same, but their invocation of Oxford surrounds and acquaintances situates them
firmly in an academic context. The reader's attention is occasionally drawn to the
artifice used by the poet in his descriptions of his travels. There is a sense in which
the author is both his own travelling protagonist, experiencing first-hand all the
comedy and irksomeness of the journey, and also the more detached narrator, giving
a running commentary for the benefit of his friends. The geographical and cultural
specificity of the poems is constantly undermined by their strongly performative
nature, ensuring that the conflict between matter and history is never completely
resolved.
84
85
The burlesque journey
Richard Brathwait's Barnabae Itinerarium is a parody of the erudite journey written
in the form of a drinking song, to be"sung 'to the old tune of Barnabe commonly
chanted'. During the course of his wanderings, 'Faustulus' (who is recounting his
adventures to 'Mirtilus', in a play on the pastoral form) visits a great many English
villages, drinks quantities of ale and becomes involved with various local women.
The ballad-was first published in Latin in 1636, then in a second edition in 1638,
with English on facing pages. The rhymes and puns are generally more concise and
apt in the Latin version. For example, Faustulus recounts that in Doncaster ' Vidi
levem & Levitam', which appears in English as 'Both a Light-one and a Levite I
There I viewed' (part I, stanza 20). In a passage summarising what he has seen, he
exuberantly lists
Ponies, fontes, montes, valles,
Caulas, cellos, colles, calles,
Vias, villas, vicos, vices,
Castas cautas, meretrices
(II. 3)
which, with its internal rhymes and alliteration, trips off the tongue much more
readily than the English,
Bridges, fountaines, mountaines, valleis,
Cauls, cells, hillocks, high-wayes, shallows,
Paths, towns, villages, and trenches,
Chast-choice-chary-merry wenches
- although the rendering of the final line does have a certain charm. Latin wordplay
had given burlesque overtones to Eedes's more serious poem: the lines 'Wakefeild in
viridi, viridi, virida, viridino' (1. 55) and 'atque Scoto Scoticos Scotice magis edere
cantus' (1. 325) demonstrated his facility with Latin metre, as well as an erudite
preoccupation with word-forms seemingly common to many university men.
The tension which exists between Brathwait's English and Latin versions
provides part of the humour for the erudite reader, who can compare verses and
decide whether the English adequately expresses the sense of the Latin, and vice
versa. A good example of this constant play between Latin and English versions is
provided in stanza fifteen of the first part:
Sacra die eb veni,
On a Feast day came I theiher,
/Edes Sanctce erant plena*,
When good people flockt together,
Quorum percitus exemplo,
Where induc'd by their exemple,
Quia Hospes erat Templo,
I repair'd unto the Temple;
Intrans vidi Sacerdotem,
Where I heard the Preacher gravely
Igne fatuo poculis notum.
With his Nose pot-tipt most bravely.
Faustulus has arrived at the town of Overbowles on a sacra dies, a holy day, here
translated as 'Feast day': the meaning is equivalent, and the expression more
appropriate for our convivial traveller. The 'good' townspeople have 'flockt
together', which suggests obliquely what the Latin clearly states, that the churches
were full. In the English version, Faustulus is 'induc'd by their exemple' to join them
in 'the Temple' - the rhyme scheme here wholly taken over from the Latin, to the
extent of keeping the Latin second 'e' in 'exemple'. The Latin, though, is more
ambiguous. Faustulus is stirred up [percitus) by the example of the good
townspeople, but the following line reveals a second, apparently more compelling,
reason for attending church: 'Quia Hospes erat Templo', because the host of his inn
on
was there.
This information is not given in the English version, and serves to
undermine the apparently high-minded tone previously established - a twist which
does not occur in the English until the final line, where 'pot-tipt' is an amusingly
concise rendering of 'Igne fatuo poculis', the caricature of a country parson being
made more colourful by the additional word 'Nose' which is not present in the Latin.
This episode is one of the longest-running in the poem: Brathwait continues
the scene in the next two stanzas, devoting four to it altogether, whereas his usual
pace is a much more rollicking town-per-stanza. Having introduced the suspiciously
red-nosed parson, Brathwait proceeds to destroy entirely the reader's expectations
about the theme of the good people at church. The next stanza opens with the lines
"Glires erant incolce villce, I Iste clamat, dormiunt UW (1.16, 1-2), translated as
'Dormise-like the people seemed, / Though he cride, they sleeping dreamed'. Not
only is the preacher ignored by his congregation, but Brathwait literally completes his
downfall in the lasi lines of this stanza: 'Fortem prae se ferens gestum, I Fregit
pedibus Suggestum' - 'With his feet he did so thunder / As the pulpit fell asunder.'
(1.16,5-6) The word suggestum, and its translation 'pulpit', is accompanied by a
footnoted line of Lucretius: 'Fragmina suggesti sacrarunt fercula festi\ translated as
'The fragments of which pulpit they were pleas'f/ To sacrifice to th'ashes of their
Feast.' The addition of a learned footnote once again reinforces Brathwait's adopted
position as erudite wanderer, and simultaneously undermines it, because of the
ridiculousness of the situation in which it is used, and also because the lhr attributed
to Lucretius is an invention. It is an ingenious joke, which sets up circles within
readership circles. Those who know Lucretius well enough to identify the fraud can
congratulate themselves on their erudition, but must wonder whether Brathwait is
actually mocking them, as well as the more obvious target, those who scatter classical
commonplaces uncomprehendingly throughout their work. Those who have a limited
understanding of Latin might see humour in the incongruity of using such a quotation
90
The pun on 'host' (ie. consecrated body of Christ in the Catholic eucharist) is blasphemous, but
entirely typical of the genre.
87
86
in this context, and those restricted to the English might react only to the slapstick
comedy of the image.
The excursion to church is unusual for Faustulus, who generally spends his
time drinking and whoring. In one instance he arrives at Mansfield,
ubi noram
where I knew one,
Mulierculam decoram,
That was comely and a trew one,
Cum qua midumfecipactum,
With her a nak'd compact made I,
Dedi icium, egi actum,
Her long lov'd I, with her laid I,
Sedpregnantem timens illam,
Towne and her I left, being doubtfull
Sprevi viUam & ancittam. (1,13)
Lest my love had made her fruitfull.
As in this case, his affairs often end badly: he is thrown down a flight of stairs (I. 22),
disappointed ('All night vow'd she to lye by me, / But the giglet came not ny me'
(III. 18)), and otherwise humiliated. Likewise, his drinking habits cause problems
for him. By writing what is little more than a catalogue of inns, Brathwait parodies
scholars whose journeys are punctuated by bouts of drinking. Instead of constructing
a dominant persona, he makes the erudite traveller himself the source of humour.
Faustulus' relation includes accidents - 'To a cellar, troth Tie tell ye, / Fusty, musty,
headlong fell I;' (II. 23) - and embarrassing moments:
Thence to Cock at Budworth, where I
Drunk strong ale as browne as berry,
Till at last with deep-healths felled,
To my bed I was compelled;
I for state was bravely sorted,
By two Poulterers supported.
(11.14)
Instead of drinking buffoonish countrymen under the table, as Bold's and Wells's
narrators do, Brathwait's traveller is himself 'felled', and requires the services of
'two Poulterers' to help him to his room. In a similar subversion of the satiric
impetus, anti-Puritan satire is inflated into full-blown burlesque by Brathwait, whose
traveller, like Corbett, visits the strongly Puritan town of Banbury:
To Banbury came I, 0 profane one,
Where I saw a Puritane one,
Hanging of his cat on Monday
famous voyage' (c.1610) describes a mock-heroic journey through the squalid scenes
of London in terms of a journey through the underworld.91 Jonson recalls to his
audience the classical heroes who attempted the journey into hell, but tells his story
in a bathetic style reminiscent of Aristophanic comedy. The comic impetus of the
poem is provided by the substitution of London images for classical commonplaces:
'Arses were heard to croake, in stead of frogs; / And for one CERBERUS, the whole
coast was dogs' (11. 13-14). The effect is heightened by Jonson's opening line, 'I
sing the braue aduenture of two wights', an allusion to the Aeneid.. The voyage,
though, is not undertaken for any heroic reason. Instead, it begins when the
travellers 'At Bread-streets Mermaid, hauing din'd, and merry, / Propos'd to goe to
Hoi'borne in a wherry' (11. 36-7), a more difficult task, we are told, than those of
various other notorious travellers cited by Jonson:
. . . those, that put out moneyes, on rerurne
From Venice, Paris, or some in-land passage
Of sixe times to, and fro, without embassage,
Or him that backward went to Berwicke, or which
Did dance the famous Morrisse, vnto Norwich 92 (11. 32-6)
By identifying his voyage with these popular but rather foolish journeys, Jonson adds
a contemporary edge to his mockery of classical epic journeys. However, he also
situates his poem in the intellectual milieu of the wits who gathered at the Mermaid
tavern. He is writing about the exploits of two members of this fraternity, and the
performative aspect of the poem, in the phrases 'I sing' (1. 21), 'Now, lordings, listen
well' (1. 28), and again 'list ho" (1. 40), gives a strong impression of the implied
audience being once again the community of wits.
The journey itself is a grotesquely exaggerated catalogue of London's filth, as
the travellers progress by boat along the Fleet Ditch from Bridewell Dock to
Holborn. Like many imitators of classical texts Jonson plays with the notion of
substitution, finding appropriately witty replacements for mythical beasts and heroes
in the inhabitants of London. The 'vgly Centaures' of myth become 'Car-men' (1.
68), and 'bold BRIAREVS', a hundred-handed giant, is confused with 'the beadle, /
For killing of a mouse on Sunday. (I. 4)
The joke about the Puritan is effective, but, overwhelmingly, the satire is replaced by
an atmosphere of carnival.
Finally, in the fourth part of the journey, Faustulus farewells all the towns he
has visited, in a twelve-stanza frenzy of listing. Having given up his drunken ways,
Faustulus becomes a horse-dealer, travelling from one town to the next buying and
selling horses. The ballad takes on overtones of the pastoral idyll, and Faustulus
congratulates himself on his reformation.
Rather than documenting country scenes, Ben Jonson's Epigram 133 'On the
91
Ben Jonson, Vol. V1I1: The Poems, The Prose Works ed. C. H. Herford el ah (Oxford, 1947), pp. 84-
9.
92
Parkes, Travel in England, p. 292: 'In 1600 Kemp, the famous comedian, danced Morris-fashion
from London to Norwich, accompanied by his tabourer, Thomas Slye, his servant, William Bee, and
George Sprat as overseer.' Kemp published his account of this feat as Kemps nine dales wonder,
performed in a daunce from London to Norwich (1600). The reference to putting out money alludes
to the custom of travellers leaving money with someone who would repay it at an agreed rate on their
return. Coryate did this, and had some difficulty in regaining what he was owed (see Strachan,
Thomas Coryate, pp. 15, 118-20). Concerning the Berwick journey, Jonson's editors cite this passage
from W. Rowley's A Search for Money (1609), sig. A4: l Yee haue beene either eare- or eye-witnesses
or both to many madde voiages made of late yeares, both by sea and land, as the trauell to Rome with
the returne in certaine daies, the wild morise to Norrige, the fellowes going back-ward to Barwick,
another hopping from Yorke to London'.
88
(Who hath the hundred hands when he doth meddle)' (11. 81-2). His burlesque serves
to highlight the difference between the epic of classical literature and the bathos of
contemporary London, which in Jonson's narrator's view is a wholly degraded and
nauseating place. This London has its classical antecedent in Juvenal's depiction of
Rome in his third satire, but Jonson's description is a grotesque carnivalised
cariacature. It is disproportionate, and involves the whole of the city and its people
in the river of ordure navigated by the two travellers. References to other recent
satiric poems which partly depend upon scatalogical humour imply that Jonson
wished to situate his own poem in this tradition.93
Both- Jonson and Brathwait write their poems in the tradition of the popular
journey, as cited by Jonson, rather than the Horatian satiric journey. Both are
humorous, and mildly parodic, and most importantly, both belong in the category of
carnivalesque satire. Brathwait's comic and slightly obsessive cataloging of English
villages expresses the desire to comprehend and jumble together the whole country,
overturning both social and geographical boundaries. His good-humoured mockery
includes the inhabitants he meets, the protagonist himself, and even the reader. In
the same way, Jonson's description of London minutely details the refuse and
excrement which both proceeds from and infectiously swirls around all of London's
inhabitants, involving the poet, travellers and audience alike. Unlike the journey
satires discussed above, neither of these poems is written in the first-person voice of
the traveller, and the satire, while comic, is not directed at anyone in particular.
'The construction of the erudite poet
With the exception of Jonson and Brathwait, the authors discussed above have used
an individual traveller-persona to narrate their stories in the first person. Clearly, the
writers wish to identify themselves with their narrating personae, meaning that their
construction of their travelling selves can be strongly linked to their construction of
their writing selves. The stereotypical figure of the solitary, sedentary scholar,
unworldly and unwilling to leave his study or library, is replaced in these satiric
journey-poems by a witty, adventurous and carousing scholar-figure. Such an
obvious reversal of the usual image suggests that the author is deliberately
attempting to reconstruct his narrating persona.94 The method these authors have
93
Jonson mentions 'the grave fart, late let in parliament' (1.108), a reference to an episode treated by,
among others, John Hoskyns, in his poem "The Parliament Fart'; and 'his [Muse], that sung A-1AX'
(11. 195-6), referring to Sir John Harington's Metamorphosis ofAiax (1596).
94
According to Aubrey, Richard Corbett played a similar game with his persona while he was bishop
of Norwich. He and his chaplain, Thomas Lushington, would descend to the wine-cellar, and Corbett
would remove his 'Episcopall hat', saying 'There lyes the Doctor', and take off his gown, saying
"There lyes the Bishop' - 'Then 'twas, Here's to thee, Corbet, and Here's to thee, Lushington1
(Aubrey's Brief Lives ed. Oliver Lawson Dick (London, 1949), pp. 73-4; quoted in Poems of Richard
89
used to go about their task is dictated by the nature of the journey poem, which is
primarily concerned with boundaries.
The first and most important boundary to be negotiated by the scholar is that
which lies between his study and the outside world. In many of these cases, this is
the division between Oxford and not-Oxford. It is noticable that although the
scholars have left their academic surrounds, these are still present in the poems as
places of significance and reverence. In the same way that Richards identifies the
Welsh and English countrypeople he encounters so strongly with their land that it
seems to have given birth to them, so the scholars are products of their university
environment. This is expressed in Master's and Bispham's Latin journeys as a desire
to reinvent the landscape in classical terms - in effect, to extend the geographical
boundaries of their intellectual space, giving them the same power in the English
countryside as they have over the ancient Roman landscapes of their imagination.
The erudite traveller, as he re-negotiates his physical surroundings, must
similarly deal with the people he describes in his poem. However, while he may
allow the boundaries between the countryside and Oxford to disintegrate, he
vigorously upholds the boundaries between himself and the non-erudite characters he
encounters. The usual method of achieving this is by pointing out intellectual and
educational differences. While allowing that a grammar-school knowledge of Latin
is fairly common, the erudite satirist emphasises the gulf between this elementary
level of learning and true scholarship. More subtly, he reveals his own wide general
and historical knowledge by making references to a range of facts in the text of his
work, and expects his audience to appreciate this. In this way, he reminds both
himself and his intellectual audience of the essential difference between themselves
and their countrymen.
Another obvious way in which the satirist separates himself from his nonerudite countrymen is in regard to the occupations of those he meets. The travelling
scholar, in these texts, is often on vacation: the very fact of his being away from his
study implies leisure, or at least a change from his usual work. This leisure is at odds
with most of the characters met by the scholars - the travelling oil-man, the drover,
fanners, constables, innkeepers, tapsters and ostlers, clergymen, and so on. These
people are all pursuing their various occupations, and the distance between them and
the scholar is heightened by the latter's status as an observer unconstrained by the
demands of a job. It is exploited further by the scholars who find opportunities for
satire in their descriptions of the working men they encounter.
Interestingly, gender boundaries are all but ignored by these erudite satirists.
Their poems include stock female characters, primarily the innkeeper's wife, and, in
Corbett, pp. xxxiii-xxxiv).
90
the background, the 'available' woman (who should not be confused with a
prostitute); but women generally do not play an important role in either the satire or
the construction of the poet's persona. Brathwait's insistence on his traveller's
sexual adventures is actually an inversion of the usual function of women in these
journey poem satires. The very number and variety of women apparently seduced by
Faustulus, and his indifferent success with them, adds to the ridiculousness of his
situation, and makes the female characters more powerful in consequence.
The boundaries between religious sects were of vital importance in Oxford
especially. Colleges at different points on the spectrum between 'Arminian' and
Puritan at one period, and 'High-flying' and Latitudinarian at another, were ranged
against each other in a continual struggle for powerful appointments within the
university. Corbett's traveller, while clarifying the boundaries between Anglican and
Puritan, and, to a lesser extent, Catholic, serves to illustrate Corbett's own position as
a Laudian Anglican. In a sentiment hinted at by Corbett in his poem, the very
festivity, good humour and liveliness of the wanderers locates them on the orthodox
side, as opposed to the dour Puritans. This division can also be applied to the other
erudite satirists, who, although they do not make specifically anti-Puritan remarks,
behave in a fashion which is clearly un-Puritan.
As we have seen, the sedentary scholarly persona undergoes a remarkable
transformation in the narration of these journey poems. Instead of being a
complaining figure, helpless in the face of society's indifference to his obvious
intellectual superiority, the travelling scholar becomes a romantic figure, able to
drink as much as any country innkeeper, well-informed about the historical and
topographical features of the countryside, actively engaged in the political life of the
nation, and ready to poke fun at anyone whose lifestyle or moral code differs from
his own.
91
4. Satire and early-modem erudite institutions
On March 7th, 1615, King James I and his retinue braved the muddy roads and
entered Cambridge. This was the king's first official state visit to the town, and he
was greeted by all the ceremonial display university and corporation could provide.
Among the many academic entertainments enacted during his visit was George
Ruggle's Latin comedy Ignoramus, presented at Clare Hall by scholars from several
different colleges. This particular play pleased the king so thoroughly that he
returned the next month to see a repeat performance. However, the main character,
Ignoramus - a ridiculous and ignorant common-lawyer - incensed the lawyers and
InnS'Of-Court men, provoking them to write a number of satirical responses against
the scholars, which in turn were answered by Cambridge men. In addition to the
legal fraternity, Oxford scholars who had visited Cambridge during the festivities
added their opinions cf the entertainments, perhaps wanting to return the shafts
aimed their way after their own previous, less successful, attempts at amusing
James I. Ignoramus itself deserves attention for its exemplification of the struggle
for power, through the legitimation of knowledge, between clerical academics and
lawyers. The arguments made in the play, that lawyers use a debased and
ungrammatical farrago of Latin, French and English, and are ignorant of all subjects
except those related to the common law and its practice, set the lawyers completely
at odds with the scholars. Rather than simply being randomly insulting, however, the
scholars had chosen their ground deliberately. The attacks they make are directly
related to the academic enterprise, which contemporaries generally agreed was
founded upon language, especially Latin, and a broad knowledge of the liberal arts.
By undermining the lawyers' language, the scholars deny the legitimacy of their
power. This contest between the university and Inns of Court was, in this particular
case, situated in the wider field of the relationship between the Royal Court and the
British intellectual institutions. By taking the opportunity of James' visit to
93
92
Cambridge to perform their play, the scholars were not simply engaging in
intellectual rivalry with the lawyers, but were attempting to gain royal approval of
Cambridge as an institution, by pandering to James' well-known prejudices against
common lawyers. Similarly, the royal visit was another site for the acting out of the
continuing struggle for distinction between Cambridge and Oxford. It has also been
suggested that the character of Ignoramus was inspired by Francis Brackyn, the
Recorder of Cambridge and a member of Gray's Inn. Brackyn had been involved in
a dispute over precedence between the vice-chancellor of the university and the
mayor, and his actions on behalf of the mayor and corporation had caused the
university to view him with disfavour.1 The performance of Ignoramus was seen by
contemporaries as another episode in the hostilities between the town and the
university.
seventeenth-century intellectual field. As well as a large amount of economic capital
(represented by the physical beauty of their colleges, their lands, the benefices in
their disposal and the contents of their strong-boxes), they also held symbolic capital,
in their position as conferrers of cultural legitimation (represented by their degreegranting power). In Bourdieu's formulation, dominant institutions wage a constant
war to preserve the status quo, and their less-pGvverful opponents, when they enter
the contest, use subversive or revolutionary tactics to undermine them.4 The
seventeenth-century universities' preoccupation with the purity of language can be
read in these terms. Again and again, language is the ground on which erudite
satirists attack their targets. Their attacks on those who use the vernacular, or legal
jargon, or indirect courtly language, constitute a defence of the academic Latin which
is a part of their cultural capital.
Satirical productions such as these, whether textual or theatrical, can be seen
as tactics used by various communities in the constant struggle for self-definition,
and demarcation of boundaries. Anthony Cohen has suggested that communities
identify themselves at their boundaries, and that the assertion of difference is likely
to increase in proportion to apparent similarity.2 Thus, we find the universities
attacking each other or the Inns of Court on different grounds than they attacked the
Court or town, because the universities and Inns resembled each other closely in
several important ways. At the same time, though, Cohen recognises that corporate
positions taken by communities in their communications with outsiders simplify
matters which to an insider, look far more complex.3 The universities and Inns of
Court, for example, look fairly similar to outsiders: they are all erudite institutions.
Within any community there are a series of boundaries - which accounts for the
different stances writers can take towards internal and external adversaries.
However, as we will see, the universities were eager to preserve a boundary of sorts
between themselves and the Inns, on the grounds of function (the education of
clergymen in one case, common lawyers in the other). Oxford and Cambridge also
indulged in their own private games of point-scoring, and within both universities the
various colleges asserted independence fiom each other.
Finally, the performative nature of these satires must be emphasised. Even
non-theatrical texts demonstrate an attentiveness to their audience.
They
differentiate between audience groups by addressing different sections to different
implied hearers. This heightens the sense that all involved are performers on the
field of struggle, regardless of their individual part. The division between actor and
spectator is never concrete, and the most important actor/spectator in all these satires
is the king. Early dramatic productions situated the king in a prominent position so
that he could be seen while at the same time seeing the show: as Stephen Orgel has
argued, the real action was in the interaction between the monarch and the play,
rather than simply the play itself.5 A similar situation exists, on a much larger scale,
in the complex theatre of institutional relations.
As well as having a sociological function, institutional boundaries can be
manipulated in the game of power, as it has been theorised by Pierre Bourdieu. The
two English universities occupied a nearly-corresponding dominant position in the
The Court
As prone to'all ill, and of good as forgetfull, as proud, as lustfull, and as much in debt, •
As vaine, as witlesse, and as false as they
Which dwell at Court.. .6
Donne, in his fourth satire, calls court a 'Purgatorie' (1. 3), and paints a vivid picture
of the annoying courtier who attaches himself to the satirist and rehearses all the
petty court scandals. The courtier's speech is strange and abhorrent to his listener:
the man has 'travail'd, and saith, speakes all tongues' (1. 35), but his language is a
mixture of several, and Donne complains 'Pedants motley tongue, souldiers bumbast,
1
Nichols, Progresses of King James I, vol. Ill, pp. 50-ln. Brackyn had already been caricatured as
'a pedantic, knavish, common lawyer' in the 1601/2 play, The Return from Parnassus or the
Scourge of Simony (Cooper, Annals, vol. II, p. 618n; The Three Parnassus Plays ed. Leishman,
pp. 61-2).
" Cohen, Symbolic Construction of Community, pp. 12, 40.
}
Ibid., pp. 35,74.
4
For a useful summary of Bourdieu's theories see David Swartz, Culture and Power, esp. pp. 1235.
5
Stephen Orgel, The Illusion of Power: Political Theater in the English Renaissance (Be r ' eley,
1975), p. 9.
6
Donne, 'Satyre I V , 11. 13-16, in John Donne ed. Milgate.
94
/ Moimtebankes drugtongue, nor the termes of law / Are strong enough preparatives,
to draw / Me to beare this' (11. 40-3). The 'Pedants motley tongue' - which Milgate
calls 'learned jargon that mixes together English, Latin and Greek terms' - is
grouped equally with other perversions of language, and is a reflection on the
extremes to which scholarship can be taken.7 Like 'the termes of law', which Donne
would have used himself as a student at the Inns of Court, all these idioms effectively
obfuscate meaning and confuse listeners. This happens intentionally, in the case of
soldiers and 'Mountebankes': by grouping them together with these, Donne seems to
imply that pedants and lawyers may also use irregular language as a kind of
smokescreen. He emphasises the contrast between the gibberish he is hearing and
the purity of uncomipted tongues by having his protagonist mention some renowned
linguists - 'Beza then, / Some Jesuites, and two reverend men / Of our two
Academies' (11. 55-7). The courtier claims that anyone can surpass these great men
'By travaile' (1. 61), meaning both travel and labour. Again, two different types of
learning are opposed here: knowledge gained through 'travaile', or a wide experience
of the world, and that gained by studying at one of the two English 'Academies', or a
Jesuit academy on the Continent. Donne identifies the fomier way of learning with
the courtly life, implying that it can produce hideous results: as his protagonist
facetiously suggests, if the courtier had 'beene Interpreter / To Babells bricklayers,
sure the Tower had stood' (11. 64-5).
It is not just the man's mode of speech which offends Donne, but the
substance of what he says. The courtier repeats 'triviall houshold trash' (1. 98), the
gossip of the Court, and of the outside world, 'of all States, and deeds' (1.113).
Worse than this, though, are the 'Libells . . 'gainst each great man' (1.120).
Against these words the satirist feels helpless, "more amas'd then Circes prisoners'
(1. 129), and like them, he feels himself turning into something he is not,
'Becomming Traytor' (1.131) merely by listening to traitorous speech. The power of
language, and especially its misuse, is a recurring theme in Donne's satires. In this
case the courtier, though speaking a debased tongue, is nevertheless demonstrating
the corrupted potency of speech in the Court milieu. The workings of the Court are
carried out in libels and whispered intrigues, and the satirist fears being caught up by
the 'Giant Statutes' (1.132) against treason, if he is led into saying something
indiscreet.8
''ibid., p. 152.
8
The statute dealing with defamation of magnates, Scandalum Magnatum (passed in 1275, reenacted in 1379, and not formally abolished until 1888), saw slander of nobles or officials as a
threat to the state (William Holdsworth, A Histcny of English Law ed. A. L. Goodhart and H. G.
Hanbury, 18 vols. (London, 1903; 7th ed., rev., London, 1956), vol. Ill, pp. 409-10). Donne may
have been thinking of this statute when he spoke of'Libells . . . 'gainst each great man'.
95
1
Donne's greatest complaints against courtiers spring from differences
between the academic and courtly lifestyle. The courtier maintains 'If of court life
you knew the good, / You would leave lonenesse' (11. 66-7), harking back to the
situation in Donne's first satire when his protagonist is loth to leave his study at the
urgings of the fop. For Donne, courtly life and study are incompatible: study
requires retirement and solitude. He reserves more invective for the finery donned
by the courtiers in readiness for entering the royal presence, which differs vastly
from the plain gowns worn by scholars.9 The appearance of the courtiers is even
fancied by Donne to be directly inimicable to scholarship: 'Why good wits ne'r
weare scarlet gownes, I thought / This cause, These men, mens wits for speeches
buy, / And women buy all reds which scarlets die' (11. 192-4). 'Good wits' cannot
wear scarlet doctoral robes because their energies are bought by courtiers who desire
speeches, and because all the red dye has been bought by women for cosmetic uses.
Although he does not particularly emphasise it in this satire, Donne reiterates the
commonly-held view of the Court as lustful and debauched. Here again is an aspect
of Court life which is utterly foreign to most university scholars, living themselves in
a society from which women were, at least in theory, rigorously excluded.
Donne's satire, probably written in 1597, presents a caricatured courtier and a
list of stock complaints about the Court: the courtiers are dissembling, slothful,
proud, lustful, and spendthrift. These elements are repeated by many erudite writers
when dealing with the Court, and, although indicative of a general attitude, they must
be treated as literary commonplaces stemming from the complaint tradition.
Donne's scholarly persona must also be examined carefully. As we have seen, the
disregarded scholar was another semi-traditional figure which occurred regularly in
drama.10 Though his persona is characterised as a university man, Donne himself
was at this time living at Lincoln's Inn. Moreover, being a Catholic he was excluded
from the full life of the universities (though he had spent some time at Oxford). Of
course, there would have been a certain convenience in his using a readilyidentifiable satiric persona such as the university scholar, rather than creating a
character specific to the Inns of Court. However, Donne's strong identification with
the scholar-figure suggests that he sees the Inns as closer in spirit to the university
than to the Court. Indeed, his loudly-proclaimed disgust at Court manners may be a
reaction against the Inns' physical proximity to the Court, and from the similarities in
lifestyle between the courtiers and the Inns-of-Court students - in stark contrast with
the university scholars. This proximity, and superficial similarity, made it vital to
9
Stephen Greenblatt has discussed sumptuous court clothes as a way of assuming power: he sees it
as part of the 'theatricalization of public life' during the reign of Henry VIII (Renaissance Selffashioning, pp. 28-9).
10
See above, pp. 62-3.
97
96
distinguish clearly between Court and Inns of Court as institutions.11 When Donne
speaks about the courtier's use of language, he emphasises its worthlessness as a
means of ordinary communication, but he demonstrates its complete suitability for
veiled or perverted conversations at Court. Similarly, he practically casts the Court
and the scholar's study as binary opposites, in his effort to distance the latter from
the former.
The social role of the universities had changed radically during the sixteenth
century, and this was reflected to some extent in their relationship with the Court.
Sons of the nobility and gentry entered in greater numbers, and by the midseventeenth century, if not before, many courtiers had received part of their
education at one of the universities. However, the type of learning attained during
their stay may have been quite different from that attempted by men who were
planning to take a degree. These young gentlemen were often resident for only one
or two years. Rather than following the entire course prescribed for taking a
bachelor's degree, they may have chosen to study modern, as well as classical,
history and languages, geography, and modern works of philosophy, heraldry or
statecraft, which would prepare them for a role at Court, or as an ambassador.12
Mark Curtis argues that this influx of gentlemen brought with them 'strong personal
interest in their counties, London, the court, and the great world of affairs', and that
these interests began to be reflected by stronger links between the universities and
the outside world.13
At the same time, the outside world, and specifically the Court, became more
interested in the universities. James I exerted his influence and gained a greater
measure of control over them by regularly appointing courtiers as chancellors of both
Oxford and Cambridge, and by taking an active interest, often to the extent of
interfering, in elections to university appointments of all kinds. As part of his efforts
to maintain religious stability and thus preserve the stability of his reign, the king
looked upon the academies as seminaries where potential clergymen were taught
conforming divinity, and young gentlemen were taught to obey the king's commands
and keep the peace, hi their turn, the universities relied on the Court for financial
support and advancement of their members, and for protection of their interests and
jurisdictions against the continual challenges of the town corporations.14 These
factors, and others, united to bring about what Kenneth Fincham speaks of as 'the
interdependence of court and university' in the early Stuart years.15 While a satirist
such as Donne was able to write at the close of the sixteenth century with an attitude
which regarded the universities and Court as mutually exclusive institutions, this
position was increasingly difficult to maintain in the decades which followed.
Although the tendency towards stock characterizations lingered, some concessions
were necessary to acknowledge the increasingly complex relationship between
university and Court.
The closer involvement between the monarch and the institutions was marked
by an increase in the number of formal state visits made to the universities in the
early seventeenth century. In contrast with Elizabeth, who made state visits to
Oxford twice and Cambridge only once during her reign, her successors James I and
Charles I appeared fairly regularly.16 James I visited Oxford in 1605 and 1614, and
Cambridge in 1615 and 1623; Charles I visited Oxford in 1629 and 1636, and
Cambridge in 1628, 1631 and 1642.17 Oxford was his capital for part of the Civil
Wai". Royal visits to the universities were occasions on which the complex
relationship between academy and Court was given utterance through the medium of
formal ceremonies and through the attitudes displayed by scholars, courtiers and
other visitors. The official business of the visit normally included welcoming
speeches by university and corporation and the presentation of gifts at the king's
arrival; a royal tour of some of the colleges, interspersed with more speeches; the
king's presence at disputations and sermons; lighter entertainment in the form of
plays in the evenings; and the conferring of degrees on determining scholars and
various noblemen. These formalities generated ballad, verse and prose responses
from many of those involved as actors or spectators. Both the ceremonial forms, and
the ephemeral literature which was their subversive opposite, can be read as an
attempt to define the way in which Court and university interrelated.
One of the primary goals of university officials was to impress their monarch
with the orderliness of the scholars, and their compliance with university statutes
governing religious observances and other practices. As can be seen from the extant
lists of orders given to scholars regarding their behaviour, care was taken to present
the universities as decorous institutions devoted to learning. The preparations for
James I's visit to Cambridge in 1615 included strict instructions to members of the
15
Ibid., p. 181. Fincham is referring to Oxford, but the same may be said of Cambridge.
It has been suggested that this was in part due to their proximity to Woodstock and Newmarket
respectively, which James I and Charles I visited for the hunting and horseracing (Ibid., p. 182).
17
Though this was apparently not regular enough for one poet, whose dialogue between 'Carolus'
and 'Oxonium' (which begins 'Cur rara celebras vice') accuses Charles I of neglecting Oxford
(Bodleian Library MS Rawl. D. 1048, ff. 69v-70r).
18
For James I's visit to Oxford in 1605 see Nichols, Progresses of James I, vol. I, pp. 530-62, and
for his visit to Cambridge see vol. Ill, pp. 43-5.
16
11
As Cohen has argued (Symbolic Construction of Community, p. 40).
Mark H. Curtis, Oxford and Cambridge in Transition: I558-1642 (Oxford, 1959), p. 130 et
passim.
13
Ibid., p. 126.
14
For a more detailed discussion of Oxford's relationship with the early Stuarts, see Kenneth
Fincham's 'Oxford and the Early Stuart Polity' in History of Oxford, Vol. IV.
12
98
99
university about their clothing, behaviour and seating arrangements at functions
attended by the royal party. To this end, they were warned against visiting 'any Inn,
Taverne, Alehowse, or Tobacco-shop'' during the king's stay, and were threatened
with expulsion if they dared 'to take tobacco in St. Marie's Church or in Trinity
Colledge Hall'. The scholars were to wear the academic gown, hood or cap
appropriate to their academic status at all times, and not to indulge in the accustomed
'fearfull enormitye and excesse of apparell seene in all degrees, as namely, strange
pekadivelas, vast bands, huge cuffs, shoe-roses, tufts, locks, and topps of hare,
unbeseeminge that modesty and carridge of Students in soe renowned an
Universitye'.19 Ever since gentlemen had begun to enter the universities in greater
numbers during the second part of the sixteenth century, authorities had complained
about scholars' dress. Sir Robert Cecil, Chancellor of Cambridge, claimed in a 1602
iteration of 'Disorders in the Universities, contrary to the Statutes, & tending to the
decay of learninge, & other dissolute behaviour', that 'Schollers now goe in their
Silkes & Velvets, liker to Courtiers then Schollers'.20 This lament suggests another
reason for the insistence on academic dress during the court's visit: not only was the
gown a sober, clerical garment appropriate for orderly, submissive scholars, but it
also enabled visitors to distinguish between scholars of various social standings, and
emphasised the difference letween scholars and courtiers.21
Qui vocantur hie Sophistae;
Et post illos alter status,
Ordo Baccalaurearus;
Proximas tenebant partes
Hi qui sciunt omnes Artes;
Ubi illi desinebant,
Non-regentes apparebant,
Pone, (gentium dii majorum!)
Turba gravis stat Doctorum:24
Once again, the ordered lines of scholars and Fellows give the desired impression of
docility and conformity.
The object of all this organisation, and the attempts to impress the king and
court with shows of obedience, learning and wit, was simple. The university, like
every other institution, needed the power conferred by the king's favour. This was
also true on an individual level. Whether it was to positions at. Court, or benefices,
canonries, or sees for clergymen, universities relied on the Court to provide places
for their graduates. The song which begins 'Of all the universities', which describes
James Fs visit, alludes specifically to this situation.25 The final two stanzas run:
He [James] took his horse and rode with speed,
Yet cannot thus of her [Cambridge] be rid;
She'll be still sending pupils up
The appearance of order was desired at every occasion. The masters
('Regents and Non-regents') were required to attend the disputations in St. Mary's,
but were told not to 'presume to come uppon the stage, but to goe and sitt within the
lists; the Bachelors in Divinity uppon the highest formes, uppon the grownde in the
body of the Church; the Non-regents next them; and the Regents uppon the formes
there next behynde them; and not to stand or sittpromiscue one amongst another'.22
This regimental division by degree also occurred while the king was entering the
town, and in the audience at the comedies. It is described in a Latin song entitled
'De repetita Cantabrigia: sive, de adventu regis ad musas secundo liber licentiatus'.23
Stabant primo loco gentes
Quos vulgus populi vocat Recentes;
lllos subsequuntur isti
To be a parson, dean or bishop:
For why she knows the king by right
Is bound her courtesy to requite.
No marvel then if younglings flock
To court to be a gazing stock,
To crave and beg without restriction
In re and spe all jurisdiction:
For why the courtiers and the king
Are bound to give them every thing.
The author implies that in return for its welcome at Cambridge, the Court must now
favour Cambridge scholars in its distribution of livings. A similar sentiment is
expressed by Richard Brathwait, in his satire 'The Court Ape', where his courtierpersona says,
19
Nichols, Progresses of James 1, vol. Ill, p. 44. The king's dislike of tobacco was well-known.
Cooper, Annals, vol. II, p. 616.
21
Richard Corbett maintains this final point, in his poem 'To the Lord Mordant, on his return from
the North', where he has a painful encounter with the Guard, and attributes it to this cause: 'I was
in black; a Scholler straite they guest' (1. 165). He concludes with the advice, 'Hee that will please
the Guard, and not provoke / Court-witts, must suite his Learning by a Cloake' (11. 217-18) (Poems
of Richard Corbett, pp. 29, 31).
2
" Nichols, Progresses of James I, vol. Ill, p. 43.
23
Ibid., vol. Ill, p. 89; also found in Bodleian MS Rawl. poet. 26, ff. 36v-37r. The song beings
'Venisti Cantabrigia'. Cooper claims the verses were 'supposed to have been spoken on the 2nd
representation of Ignoramus' before King James in May 1615 {Annals, vol. Ill, p. 86).
In Progresse time, I likewise goe to see
'Mongst other Apes, the Universitie,
20
24
11. 24-35. 'In the first place stands the class / which the crowd commonly calls Freshmen. / They
are followed by those / who here are called sophisters. / And after them another level / the
Bachelor order; / They keep their places nearby / those who know all the Aits; / where these cease,
/ the non-regents appear, / behind them, (the superior deities!) / a solemn crowd of Doctors stands'.
25
Inedited Poetical Miscellanies 1584-1700 ed. W. C. Hazlitt (London, 1870), sigs. I8r-K3r.
Printed under the title, 'News from Cambridge'.
101
100
Where though Licinins-like all Arts I hate,
I must be made forthwith a Graduate
For which I promise, when they come to Court,
Some Chaplains place, but they must pay me for't.26
Here Brathwait links the universities' gift of degrees to courtiers, which was a
regular occurrence during royal visits, with the courtiers' influence (confirmed by
bribery) in getting places for scholars. His protagonist seems to regard it as a simple
reciprocal arrangement, but contemporary evidence suggests that it was rather a
vexed question for the universities.
Brathwait's vignette is accurate in ar.olher respect, though: whether they liked
it or not, the universities relied on influential courtiers, especially their chancellors,
to see that their interests were represented to the king. Direct access to the king was
limited, and a royal visit was seen as an unusual opportunity in this regard. While
James I was an attentive listener (and occasionally an impromptu participant) at the
ceremonial disputations which marked his visit, the most entertaining and splendid
university performances were theatrical.28 Plays were an opportunity for young
scholars to be noticed by king and Court. This is demonstrated by the story of
Samuel Fairclough, who was asked to act the part of Surda, an old woman, in the
first performance of Ignoramus. Fairclough's puritanical beliefs caused him to seek
leave from the vice-chancellor to be excused. However, the vice-chancellor
responded with the argument 'that he was unwise in his desires, for, by his acting he
would become known to the Court, and by acting well he would gain the Kings
favour immediately, and get preferment in a short time'.29 Roger Coke, in his A
Detection of the Court and State of England, attributes the first Duke of
Buckingham's rise as royal favourite to this circumstance.
At this Play [Ignoramus] it was so contrived, that George ViUiers should appear with all
the advantages his Mother could set him forth; and the King so soon as he had seen him,
fell into admiration of him, so as he became confounded between his Admiration of
ViUiers and the pleasure of the Play, which, the King did not conceal, but gave both
Vent upon several occasions. This set the Heads of the Courtiers at work how to get
Somerset out of Favour, and to bring ViUiers in .. .30
the relationships between university, king and courtiers.31 The king's 'pleasure of
the play' was attributed by contemporaries to the play's witty satire against common
lawyers: however, in Coke's version the play becomes merely the occasion for the
king's first admiring ViUiers, almost as though it had been written solely for the
purpose of displaying the young man's talents. The courtiers, in turn, are not only
spectators of the play, but also of the by-play involving the king and ViUiers, which
they attempt to turn to their own purposes. Ignoramus and other university
performances were not simply shows, but sites of contention and ambition, in which
many of the spectators were also performers in the meta-drama of Court politics.
Not all university plays performed for the Royal Court met with enthusiastic
approbation from their audience. One regular (and seemingly justified) complaint
from the Court was that plays were too long.32 The university men, in turn, argued
that their plays were being maligned by ignorant auditors who could not appreciate
the depth of wit and learning presented before them. A flurry of verses appeared in
response to the spectacular failure of Barten Holyday's play Technogamia: or the
Marriage of the Arts to capture the attention of the Court. Acted first at Christ
Church in 1617, Wood records that in 1621
the wits now of the University being minded to shew themselves before the King, were
resolved to act the said Comedy at Woodstock; . . . But it being too grave for the King,
and too Scholarlike for the Auditory (or as some say that the Actors had taken too much
wine before) his Majesty after two Acts offered several times to withdraw, but being
perswaded by some of those that were near him, to have patience till it was ended, least
the young men should be discouraged, adventured it, though much against hi: will... 33
Most of the squibs that followed this very public embaiTassment were the product of
collegial or inter-university rivalry. However, Henry King's satirical poem 'To hi..
Freinds of Christchurch upon the mislike of the Marriage of the Artes, acted at
Woodstock' is an exception.34 King's opening lines comment on the way plays were
used as part of the competition for power between universities, and the position of
the Court in the field of struggle:
But is it true, the Court mislik'd the Play,
That Christchurch and the Arts have lost the day?
That Ignoramus should so farr excell,
This account, though certainly apocryphal, nevertheless adds to our understanding of
26
27
•jo
Brathwait, 'The Court Ape' in The Honest Ghost (London, 1658), 11. 277-82.
See below, p. 109.
*
" During one disputation, on the question of whether dogs could make syllogisms, the king
interrupted the moderator and asked the disputants to account for one of his own dogs' behaviour
(Costello, Scholastic Curriculum, p. 26).
29
Samuel Clarke, 'The Life and Death of Mr Samuel Fairclough' in The Lives of Sundry Eminent
Persons (London, 1683), p. 2156; repr. in REED Cambridge, vol. I, p. 543.
30
Roger Coke, A Detection of the Court and State of England, 2 vols. (1694), vol. I, pp. 75-6: repr.
in REED Cambridge, vol. II, p. 864. C. E. McGee mentions this story in his article 'Stuart Kings
and Cambridge University Drama: Two Stories by William Whiteway' (Notes and Queries
vol. 233 (1988), pp. 494-6).
31
According to the Dictionary of National Biography, Villiers never attended university, and was
introduced to the King 'at Apethorpe' in August 1614.
32
See, for example, accounts of James I's visit to Oxford in 1605. Among other long productions
on this occasion, the play Vertumnus lasted until 1 a.m.. A contemporary account records that the
king 'fell a sleepe [and] when he awaked, he would have bene gone, sayinge "I marvell what they
thinke mee to be'" (John Elliott, 'Drama' in History of Oxford, Vol. IV, p. 650). John Chamberlain
records that Cambridge was ordered to contract John Hacket's play Loiola 'from sixe or seven
howres to fowre or five' for its presentation before the king in 1623 (The Letters of John
Chamberlain ed. Norman Egbert McClure, 2 vols. (Philadelphia, 1939), vol. II, p. 484).
33
Wood, History, vol. II, p. 339.
34
In The Poems of Henry King ed. Margaret Crum (Oxford, 1965), p. 67.
•H
103
102
Their Hobby-horse from ours hath borne the bell?
(11. 1-4)
After situating the court as arbiter in the competition for dramatic honours, however,
King goes on to abuse the courtiers' taste. He accuses them of liking only 'shallow
merriment' (1. 6), and being 'stronger fan- in smell, then Witt' (1. 8).35 They would
only have been satisfied, he claims,
Had some quaint bawdry larded ev'ry Sca;ne,
Some fawning Sychophant, or courted Queane;
Had there appear'd some sharp, crosse-garter'd man,
Whome their loud laugh might nickname Puritan,
Cas'd up in factious breeches, and small ruff,
That hates the Surplis, and defyes the Cuff
(11. 9-14)
According to King, the courtiers' tastes are for titillation, Co ut intrigues, and easilyidentified stock characters such as the Puritan. He advises playwrights that their
work needs an accompanying meta-narrative: it should 'no Chorus, nor a Comment
lack / Wivch may expound and conster ev'ry Act' (11. 19-20). The play should be
'short ana slight' (1. 21), because the Court has neither the wit nor the attention span
to understand anything more challenging. He finishes with a stinging couplet which
neatly expresses the university man's distaste for Court manners, and contempt for
Court wits:
Know, 'tis Court fashion still to discommend
All that which they want braine to comprehend.
(11. 23-4)
Another Oxford man, the geographer Peter Heylyn, complained in his own verses
that. . . all ye Guard (y1 never saw a Letter
More then those on theyr Coates; whose witt consists
In Achyes bobs, & Garretts sawcy iests)
Deride or Christchurch Scenes; & sweare y' they
Ne're kept ye doore to such a scurvy Play36
Not only have the guards no learning, but they can barely read, and prefer the
slapstick fooling of Court jesters Archibald Armstrong and John Garret to the
scholars' production. The courtiers fare little better. Heylyn addresses an imagined
representative of his target group directly, saying, 'Good Sr . . . for all yr Silke &
35
Presumably K i n g is referring to the perfumes used by courtiers, which were regularly mentioned
by satirists. Cartwright makes a similar comment in The Royal Slave's 'Prologue to the
University': 'So we (the Stage being ayr'd now, and the Court / Not smelt) hope you'le descend
unto our sport' (11. 11-12) (The Plays and Poems of William Cartwright ed. G. Blakemore Evans
(Madison, 1951), p. 196).
36
Bodleian MS Eng. poet. e. 14, ff. 55 r -57 r (11. 2-6), where the poem appears under the title ' O n
Christ Church Play, acted at Woodstock on Sonday y c 26 of August 1 6 2 1 ' (other Bodleian copies
noted in Cram, W2255). In these lines Heylyn is making an obvious reference to Colbert's poem
' T o the Lord Mordant', 11. 148-50 and 11. 185-6, where Corbett claims a guard would be hard
pressed to read his own name in the Parish register, and mentions 'Archy' and 'Garret' (1. 185)
(Poems of Richard Corbett, pp. 28, 30).
Sattin / Yet I may safely sweare you know no Latin' (11. 49-50).37 With regards to
the courtiers' taste in plays, he makes a similar point to King's: instead of watching
the Christ Church production, the courtier is advised to 'March to yc Globe or
Curtayne wth yr Trull / Or gather empty Phrases from yr skull' (11. 57-8). Heylyn is
careful to separate the king from the Court, though, telling the courtier that the play
'was not for yr Diett', but 'prepar'd for / Platonique kinge' (11. 59-60) conveniently overlooking the fact that the king himself was not impressed by the
entertainment. Scholars had to tread a dangerous path between criticising the Court,
and appearing to including the monarch in their criticism.
For all the emphasis they place on the courtiers' lack of taste, however, the
scholars never question the Court's influence. In these satires, the Court's reaction to
a play is always announced by a corresponding commentary: King's courtiers
'discommend' what they cannot understand, and even Heylyn's barely-literate
guards 'sweare' they have never seen a worse production. Obviously, no matter how
much the scholars mock their judgements, or imply that it is merely current 'Court
fashion' to denigrate scholarly productions, they know that the courtiers have
opinions which, like modem theatre critics, they will share readily.
Heylyn's poem is an interesting example of the complexity of institutional
loyalties. As an Oxonian, his first sixty lines attack those who maligned Holyday
and his play. He even slips occasionally into the harsh tones of the satyr-satirist, as
when he threatens to 'scourge [detractors] with a Sixteene knotted whip' (1. 28). He
defends the author, arguing that the play was written while Holyday was 'at truce wtl1
study', and of 'but five weekes Birth / Yet no Abortive' (II. 31-3). However, once he
has done his duty by the university and routed his opponents, he turns on the Christ
Church men, telling them that he is 'Glad yl I have yr Poett so befreinded / Mad y'
such dull inventions were commended / to such a sacred Audience' (11. 63-5). It is
the king's presence which gives import to the criticisms - but, as a scholar of
Magdalen College, he resents the fact that 'most men thinke . . . / That all ye
university conioynd / In ye performance' (li. 79-80), and thus the whole university is
brought into the 'generall obloquy' (1. 78). He refrains from harsh criticism though,
contenting himself with a couple of jibes about the printing of the play, and
recommending the author collect 'Commendatory verses' (1. 102), and 'intreat / His
worthy friend iudicious Mr Ley / To write a Persian censure on his Play' (11. 102-4).
It is interesting to note the contrast made here between academic modes of reception
- commendatory verses and a Persian commentary - and courtly ones. Obviously,
Heylyn's primary concern is to uphold his institution against the attacks of outsiders,
and in doing this he uses his strongest language. Of lesser importance is his
37
'Silke & Sattin' were the materials of doctoral robes, as well as court-garments.
105
104
complaint against Christ Church, which although a rival college, is still part of the
university: with them his reproval takes a gentler form, mocking rather than
upbraiding.
While both the universities used plays as a means of ingratiating themselves
with the king and Court, they observed a nice distinction between their erudite and
non-erudite audiences. This is illustrated by William Cartwright's English play The
Royal Slave, which was first performed for Charles I and the Court at Oxford in
1636. It was received very enthusiastically, and was repeated for the benefit of the
university a few days later, and later again at Hampton Court, at the queen's request.
However, as John Elliot points out, it was not a Latin academic play of the type
presented to James I - by this time 'Oxford royal entertainments had ceased to be
displays of learning, and had become instead simp]? vehicles of flattery'.
The
difference is made clear in these lines, spoken in the 'Prologue to the University':
But 1 could wish some Question hung up there,
That we by Genuine sounds might take your eare.
Or that our Scene in Bodiey 's Building lay,
And th 'Metaphysickes were cast into a.Play.
To please your Palaies I could wish there were
A new Professour, Poet of the Chayre.39
This apologetic tone is quite different from that of the 'Prologue to the King and
Queen', which merely makes the standard effusive allusions: the Court is hailed as 'a
neerer and more glorious Sun' (1. 2) and is told that a 'forreine Court' will be
represented, in juxtaposition with their own. The perceived difference in audience
expectations is expressed even more concisely in Cartwright's 'Epilogue to the
University':
There's difference 'twixt a Colledge and a Court;
The one expecteth Science, th'other sport.
Parts should be Dialogues there, but Poynts to you:
They looke for pleasing, you for sound, and true.
(11. 5-8)
The sentiment was probably a commonplace - R[ichard] Hill, in his verses 'Upon the
Incomparable Poems of Mr William Cartwright late Student of Christ Church in
Oxford', praises Cartwright's style, commenting that with his work 'The humorous
Courtier and the Scholar may / Now jointly read, and both like the same Play' (11. 1718).40 Cartwright goes on, in his 'Epilogue', to call the Schools, where disputations
and public exercises took place, 'the measure of the Stage' (1. 10). Although his
point is that scholars are accustomed to listening to logical arguments and
philosophical theories rather than 'sport', his statement also implies that he saw the
38
39
40
Elliott, 'Drama', p. 653.
Plays and Poems of William Cartwright, p. 196,11. 3-8.
Cartwright, Comedies, Tragi-comedies, with other Poems (London, 1651), f. 58 r .
scholast
as something like an academic type of theatre. University men
are dista;
n the frivolity of the production, with its elaborate scenery and
costumes, <..^^c settings and romantic plot. We are asked to believe that Cartwright
would prefer to set his scene at the Bodleian, and cast 'th'Metaphysickes' as his
characters, but that he must conform to the Court's known preferences.
It would be easy to assume that, in their struggle to define the boundaries
between Court and university, the academics might emphasise their own learning,
and the courtiers' supposed lack thereof. This certainly true, but it is only a partial
view. I would argue that erudite satirists made a distinction between the type of
learning found at the universities or Inns, and that found at Court. As we have seen,
courtiers often attended the university for several terms, but the curriculum they
followed was not necessarily the standard academic one. Donne's differentiation
between learning acquired through travel, rather than study, is also significant. The
knowledge required for a successful Court career was modem, functional, and based
on experience. As the scholars who mocked court reactions to their plays suggest,
however, this type of knowledge did not always give courtiers access to the more
learned productions of the universities.
The differentiation between types of learning is connected on a more basic
level with the function of the institutions themselves, and it is on this level that the
boundaries between the Court and the intellectual institutions are most obvious.
Paradoxically, though, these are the points at which the institutions meet. Stated
simply, the university, in its role as legitimator of knowledge and awarder of degrees.,
perfonns a service for courtiers, just as the university in its role of educator perfonns
a service for the king. On the other hand, the Court provides places for graduates,
and the king provides a measure of security for the university. In Bourdieu's tenns,
the university exchanges cultural capital for economic capital, which it is able to do
because it occupies a dominant position in the intellectual field. The interactions
between institutions required for this relationship of mutual benefit to continue meant
that erudite satirists could not dissociate themselves entirely from the workings of the
Court; however, they could, and did, attempt to situate themselves within the
relationship. One method of achieving this was for emdite writers to make a
distinction between the university and courtly receptions of academic performances,
claiming that the same event was interpreted differently by its different audiences.
The Court's opinion on such matters as academic perfonnances is shown to be
influential and pervasive. To counter this situation, satirists attempt to subvert it by
criticising the Court's taste and ability to judge academic productions properly.
107
106
Rivalry between the universities
Though I endured a great deal of penaunce by the way for this litle pleasure, I wold not
have missed yt for that I see therby the partialitie of both sides, the Cambrige men
pleasing and applauding themselves in all, and the Oxford men as fast condemning and
detracting all that was don, wherin yet I commend Corbets modestie whiles he was
implying that she is laughably eager to please the king. Moreover, the jibe subtly
suggests that there is a need for the colleges to reinvent themselves by reinventing
their founders. By doing so, Cambridge is trying to put herself on an equal footing
with Oxford, but at the same time, paradoxically admitting her own inferiority.
Corbett reverts to burlesque in the next lines:
there, who beeing seriously dealt withall by ,ome frends to say what he thought,
Nothing escap't; nor post, nor doore,
aunswered that he had left his malice and judgement at home, and came thether only to
Nor gate, nor rayle, nor bawde, nor whore.
commend.41
You could not know, oh strange mishappe!
Wood notes in his History' and Antiquities of the University of Oxford that several
Oxford men descended on Cambridge during James I's visit in 1615, 'to observe the
Exercises and the manner of his entertainment'. However, the entertainment 'being
not answerable to their expectation, many idle Songs were made of the passages
there . . . but at the coming out of that Song made by Mr ^Vn. Corbet, of Ch. Ch.,
they died'.42 Corbett's song survived, though, and the number of manuscript
miscellanies preserving it attests to its popularity.43 Its title, A certaine poem: As it
was presented in Latine by Divines and Others, before his Maiestye in Cambridge,
by way of enterlude, stiled, Liber Novus de Adventu Regis ad Cantabrigiam,
faithfully done into English, with some liberall additions, is called by his editors 'a
burlesque', and the epithet could equally well be applied to the whole work.44
Certainly nothing of the sort was presented before the king, with or without 'liberall
additions', but the poem is an amusing account of the preparations for the king's
arrival, and his entertainment, both academic and theatrical. Corbett begins his poem
with a glance at Cambridge's low-lying situation, calling her 'Lutetia' (1. 2), from the
Latin luteus, meaning muddy, or worthless. Lutetia was also the Latin name for
Paris, and by using it Corbett immediately situates Cambndge as the alien other, in
opposition to Oxford.45 He goes on to ridicule, by a process of burlesque
exaggeration, the vice-chancellor's efforts at beautifying the town in preparation for
the king's entry.
To trim the towne great care before
Was tane by th' Lord VicechanceHour;
Both morne and Even he cleans'd the way,
The sheetes he gravell'd thrice a day
(11.7-10)
As part of the renovations, the 'Colledges were new bepainted' (1. 13), and, Corbett
claims, 'Their Founders eke, were new besainted' (1.14). Through this hyperbolic
inflation of ordinary preparations into the ridiculous, Corbett mocks Cambridge by
Whither you saw the Towne, or Mappe.
(11. 15-18)
The only college unwilling to participate ic 'the pure house of Emanuel' (1. 19),
known for its puritanical tendencies, which instead 'Conceiv'd a tedious mile of
Prayer' (1. 24).46
Following the king's entrance into the town, Samuel Harsnett, Bishop of
Chester and vice-chancellor of Cambridge, made a speech which Corbett dismisses
as 'most eloquent Non-sense' (1.46): 'ev'ry period he bedecks / With En & Ecce
venit Rex' (11. 53-4). He gives an invented sample of the speech, emphasising both
the elaborately complimentary style of the original, and the vice-chancellor's
preoccupation with the state of the roads:
Oft have 1 warn'd, (quoth he) our durt
That no silke stockins shouid be hurt;
But wee in vaine strive to be fine,
Unlesse your Graces Sun doth shine;
And, with the beames of your bright Eye,
You will be pleas'd our streetes to dry.
(11. 55-60)
The next speech celebrated the arrival of the king and prince at Trinity College,
where they were to lodge during their visit. On this occasion Francis Nethersole, the
university orator and a Fellow of Trinity College, was 'taxed for calling the Prince
Jacobissime Carole: and some will needs add, that he called him Jacobule too;
which neither pleased the King nor any body else'.47 Corbett manages to work this
into his poem, giving his own version of Nethersole's address to the king: 'And this
your Sonne, faire Carolus, I That is soe Iacobissimus' (11. 69-70). The underlying
theme of constant comparison between Oxford and Cambridge is expressed again in
the lines 'Although wee have noe bells to iangle. / Yet can wee shew a faire
Quadrangle' (11. 73-4), also put into the mouth of Nethersole.48
Corbett is more complimentary about Cambridge's plays, saying 'nothing
was so much admir'd / As were their Playes soe well attir'd' (11. 79-80). He cannot
41
John Chamberlain to Sir Dudley Carleton, March 16, 1615, describing the K i n g ' s visit to
Cambridge {Letters of John Chamberlain, vol. I, p. 588).
42
Wood, History, vol. II, p. 320.
43
Crum lists thirteen in the Bodleian alone.
44
Poems of Richard Corbett, p. 109.
45
Although Paris was also a centre of erudition.
46
Cf. Corbett's The Distracted Puritane', 11. 10-11 (Poems of Richard Corbett, p. 57).
Letters of John Chamberlain; repr. in Nichols, Progresses of James 1, vol. Ill, p. 59.
48
The reference is to the court begun by Thomas Nevile, Master of Trinity, in about 1610:
'esteemed the fairest Quadrangle of any University in Europ' (Evelyn, Diaiy, vol. Ill, p. 136
(1 Sep. 1654)).
47
109
108
resist some gentle mockery of the actors though, calling them 'most Divine' (1. 82),
and 'A perfect Diocesse of Actors I Upon the stage: for I am sure that / There was
both Bishopp, Pastow; Curaf (11. 86-8).49 The following stanza relates particularly
to Ignoramus:
Our Playes were certainly much worse;
For they had a brave Hobby-horse,
Which did present unto his Grace
A wondrous witty ambling pace:
But wee were chiefly spoyld by that
Which was six howres of God hwwes what.
YeX-Oxford (thou deare Sister) harke itThe King is gon but to New-Market,
And comes againe ere it be long;
Then you may make another song. (11. 135-8)
(11.91
-6)
The hobby horse, presented in the prologue, was called 'Davus Dromo', in reference
to one of the king's jesters, David Drummond. Corbett claims the play lasted for six
hours: at its second performance in May, it is known to have begun at eight in the
evening and finished at one o'clock in the morning.50
The disputations again give Corbett an opportunity for mockery. Concerning
the Law Act he says:
The Doctors of the Civill Law
Urg'd ne'ere a reason worth a straw;
And, though they went in silk and satten,
They Thomson-like clipp't the King's latine;
But yet his Grace did pardon then
All treasons against Priscian.
(11. 115-20)
Thompson was a senior Fellow of Trinity College who had been arrested for clipping
coins, and seems to have attained a high degree of notoriety, judging by the number
of references made to him by observers at the time.51 Corbett's analogy between
Thompson's crime and that of the doctors who sin against the ancient grammarian,
Priscian, is clever. Thompson had committed treason by meddling with the coinage
of the realm, and thus destabilising the economy and undermining the king's
authority. The doctors of Civil Law are committing a similar crime in debasing the
currency of academic life, language. The academic world is ostensibly the preserve
of grammarians and philologists, but Corbett situates it in the wider field of politics
with the phrase 'the King's latine', a reminder that this particular struggle for
legitimation is taking place in the king's actual presence.52
After making so much of the civil lawyers, Corbett gives a scant two lines to
49
the Philosophy Act, merely remarking that the participants 'did well' (1. 127).53 He
admits 'the King was pleas'd' (1. 133) with the entertainment, before slipping back
into his previous persona and putting this taunt into the mouth of his supposed
Cambridge divine:
Bennett and Trevor-Roper point out the remark of an earlier editor: 'Actores omnes fuere
theologi.' {Poems of Richard Corbett, p. 82)
50
Nichols, Progresses of James I, p. 5 In. Chamberlain also records that the play was 'more then
halfe marred with extreme length' {Letters, vol. I, p. 587).
51
Chamberlain comments, 'Paul Tomson the gold clipper hath bis pardon and not only so but is
absolved apoena et culpa wherby he kepes his livings, and never c a m ; to triall, and I heard he had
the face to appeare in the towne whiles the King was there' {Letters, vol. I, p. 588).
52
Here 'latine' is probably also a pun. Latine, or more properly latten, is a metal alloy resembling
brass.
As a coda to the king's visit, Corbett describes the 'scramble for Degree' (1. 140)
engaged in by the royal retinue, who 'prest his Lordshipp wondrous hard I . . . I
Untill he blest them all at once, / And cry'd: Vos hodiissime, I Omnes Magistri
estote1 (11. 145, 148-50). The burlesque scene of 'Keepers, Subcizers, Lackeyes,
Pages' (1. 142) all clamouring for degrees until the vice-chancellor finally grants
them en masse is a fairly obvious difc at Cambridge, implying less-than-stringent
academic standards and a fawning attitude towards the courtiers. Chamberlain
agrees that 'almost all the courtiers went foorth masters of art at the Kings beeing
there', but claims that 'few or no Doctors' were created: 'The vice chauncellor and
universitie were exceding strict in that point, and refused many importunities of great
men'.54 However, Nichols cites Camden, Anthony Wood and Baker, whose versions
indicate there may have been something of a public scandal: Camden's only
reference to the king's visit is 'March 7. The King visited the University of
Cambridge, where academical degrees were prostituted to illiterate persons'.55 Like
the previous charge of debasing the Latin tongue, the charge of prostituting degrees
refers to the universities' powerful position as conferrers of legitimation in the field
of knowledge. Corbett accuses Cambridge of undermining this role by using her
degree-granting power to ingratiate herself with the Court, giving degrees to
unworthy recipients. He links this with his previous attacks on the standard of Latin
at Cambridge by putting an invented word, 'hodiissime', into the mouth of the vicechancellor himself.56
53
Chamberlain goes further, saying 'the Philosophy Act made amends, and indeed w a s very
excellent' {Letters, vol. I, p. 587).
54
Letters, vol. I, p. 589.
55
In Nichols, Progresses of James I, vol. Ill, p. 6 In. Baker says 'degrees were vilely prostituted to
mean persons, such as apothecaries and barbers, and that in so scandalous a manner, that some of
them were afterwards degraded by a grace of the House, though to soften the matter, it was
pretended that some of these degrees were surreptitiously obtained.' {Histoiy of the College of St.
John the Evangelist, vol. I, p. 202)
56
Bennett and Trevor-Roper mention a note in British Libraiy Add. MS 23723 which claims
hodiissime was 'A word in St Johns comedie', that is, in Edward Cecil's lost play Aemilia, which
was presented on the first night of the King's stay {Poems of Richard Corbett, p. 113). Of course
the joke is that the word, which would have been acceptable in a comedy, was out of place in
official pronouncements - suggesting that the Cambridge administration resembled a situation out
of Plautine comedy.
111
110
An answer to Corbett's ballad was soon forthcoming from the Cambridge
fraternity. Printed by Nichols under the title 'A Cambridge Madrigal, in Answer to
the Oxford Ballad; as it was sung before the King, instead of interlude music, in
Ignoramus, the second time acted before his Majesty in Trinity College, Maii 13,
1615. Confuting the Oxford Ballad that was sung to the tune of Bonny Nell', the
song begins 'A ballad late was made, but God knows who's the penner'.57 The
author makes a show of refuting Corbett point by point in academic fashion. For
example, the second stanza runs:
For first he rails at Cambridge, and thinks her to disgrace
By calling her Lutetia, and throws dirt in her face;
But leave it, Scholar, leave it, for all the world must grant,
If Oxford be thy mother, then Cambridge is thine aunt.
(11. 5-8)
However, rather than arguing about Corbett's representation of the facts, the author
concentrates on justifying or explaining Cambridge's actions, and attacking Corbett's
style. He is silent on the subject of the vice-chancellor's beautification of the
university, but makes an effort to trivialise the pointed comments about the granting
of degrees: 'lackeys and subsizers pressed and scrambled for degrees; / . . . 'twas
much against their mind, / But when the prison-doors were ope what thief would stay
behind?' (11. 54-6). In regards to style, he replies to Corbett's 'Upon the look't for
Seventh of March I Out went the Townsmen all in starch' (11. 25-6), with 'Then goes
he to the Town, and puts it all in starch, / For other rhyme he could not find to fit the
seventh of March' (11. 9-10). Similarly, he mocks Corbett's rhyme of 'Prince' with
'wince' (11. 47-8), thus:
Next that, my Lord Vice-chancellor he brings before the Prince,
And in the face of all the Court he makes Ins horse to wince;
But leave it, Scholar, leave it, for sure the jest did fail,
Unless you clapp'd a nettle under his horse's tail.
Behold more anger yet! he threatens us ere long,
When as the King comes back again to make another Song;
But leave it, Scholar, leave it, your weakness you disclose,
Your Bonny Nell doth plainly tell your wit lies all for prose.
Nor can you make the world of Cambridge praise to ring,
Your mouth's so foul no market ear will stand to hear you sing;
Then leave it, Scholar, leave it, for yet you could not say,
The King did go from you in March and came again in May.
(11. 57-64)
The author unwittingly reinforces Corbett's own version of Cambridge's taunts on
the subject of the king's return in lines 135 to 138 of his 'Certaine Poeme', quoted
above. While Corbett's poem retains an element of fun in the wildness of its
imagery and in the good-natured tone of its mockery, the answer is a rather sour
production, its animus more personal than institutional, directed by the author solely
at his unbiown Oxonian antagonist. Instead of making clear points of distinction
between the two universities by refuting Corbett's assertions, or making assertions of
his own, the author prefers to blur the boundaries. Perhaps the most significant
argument presented in the whole of the reply is contained in the line 'If Oxford be
thy mother, then Cambridge is thine aunt' (1. 8). The author points out that the
universities are in some ways so closely linked, that to blacken the name of one
inevitably reflects on the other. It was precisely this sisterly likeness which bred the
constant struggle to distinguish one institution from the other.
(11.17-20)
This stanza sees the author attempting to deflate the burlesque wit of Corbett's poem,
and thus make Cambridge seem less ridiculous. In a similar vein, he responds to
Corbett's 'perfect Diocesse of Actors' (1. 86) with the lamely pedantic ' 'tis no such
witty fiction, / For since you left the Vicar out you spoil the jurisdicU-jn' (11. 27-8).
He notices the wider context of poems produced at the time, complaining that
Corbett 'in the censure of our Play conspires with Ignoramus' (1. 38), or in other
words with the Inns-of-Court men, who had by this time made their own feelings
plain. He seems also to have inadvertently responded to part of another poem, the
57
'Courtier's Censure', as though it had been written by Corbett.58
The final two stanzas of the 'Cambridge Madrigal' divide their attention
between denigration of Corbett's talents as a ballad-maker, and boasting at the king's
return to Cambridge so soon after his first visit.
Nichols, Progresses of James J, vol. Ill, p. 66. Nichols believed this ballad probably had been
'sung before the k i n g ' , as its title proclaimed.
University vs. Corporation
god helpe them, what have they in their lodgings that is good and necessarie but they
have it from us? their larder house, their bakehouse, their kitchen, no not so much as
their house of office in theire backsides, only they make theirs to differ from ours in
name and in bignes.59
The struggle between town and gown was in many ways the most bitter of all the
rivalries engaged in by the universities. Since their earliest beginnings there had
58
This has been pointed out by Nichols {Progresses of James I, vol. Ill, p. 70n). T h e tenth stanza
of the 'Courtier's Censure' runs 'Oxford her Vice-chancellour exceeded in a muffe; / But
Cambridge in a rochett blewe, and for a fringed ruffe.' This is answered with
His fantasy still working finds out another crotchet,
For running to the Bishop he rides upon his rochet;
But leave it, Scholar, leave it, and take it not in snuff,
For that he wears no pekadel by law may wear a ruff. (11.41-4)
59
Club Law ed. G. C. Moore Smith (Cambridge, 1907), p. 4 2 .
•1
113
112
been strife between scholars and townsmen, which often escalated into rioting,
damage to property, and sometimes loss of life.60 This was largely because at
Oxford and Cambridge two separate institutions inhabited the same physical space.
The competition between university and corporation over power and ceremonial
precedence was part of an ongoing struggle for territory. As well as the physical
ground on which university and town stood, this territory included the local justice
system, and regulation of the markets. As a minor town character in the Cambridge
play Club Law (quoted above) points out, the scholars relied on the town to supply
them with the basic necessities of life - food, fuel, and accommodation. In turn,
many of the townsmen relied on the universities for their livelihoods. However, this
apparently mutually beneficial relationship was marred by periods of suspicion, if
not outright hostility. During much of the early-modem period, both sides took
advantage of any opportunity to encroach on the other's jurisdictions. From the
sixteenth century onwards, the war consisted mainly of legal challenges, and large
sums of money were spent by the corporations of Oxford and Cambridge in hiring
lawyers to take petitions to London for the consideration of the Crown and Privy
Council. However, since the complaints were usually based on the citing of
precedents, this was an enterprise that favoured the universities and their antiquarian
scholars.61 The institutions also differed fundamentally in terms of their business and
mode of life. The scholars' many jokes about townsmen's wives, and insinuations of
the townsmens' cuckoldom, attest to this most obvious difference in lifestyle. Even
the architecture of the university colleges, with their fortress-like walls and gatetowers (which were built partly for protection against the town), served to emphasise
and maintain the boundary between town and gown.
Because the university and corporation inhabited the same physical space,
arguments about territory and boundaries assumed an importance in town/gown
rivalries which they lacked in other institutional conflicts. This is illustrated by a
slight contretemps which occurred before the arrival of James I in Oxford in 1605. A
Cambridge observer recorded that the chancellor, vice-chancellor and other
university officers went out about a mile from the city and waited beside the highway
to welcome the king. They were not alone, however.
60
For an informal but entertaining account of the relationship between Cambridge town and
university, see Rowland Parker's Town and Gown: the 700 Years' War in Cambridge (Cambridge,
1983); more recently, Alexandra Shepard has emphasised the complexity of town/gown relations
in 'Contesting Communities? "Town" and "Gown" in Cambridge, c. 1560-1640' in Communities
in Early Modern England ed. Alexandra Shepard and Phil Withington (Manchester and New
York, 2000), pp. 216-34. J. I. Catto discusses the relationship between townsmen and scholars at
medieval Oxford in 'Citizens, Scholars and Masters' (The Histoiy of the University of Oxford,
Vol. I: The Early Oxford Schools ed. J. I. Catto (Oxford, 1984), pp. 151-92).
61
Alan Crossley, 'City and University' in Histoiy of Oxford, Vol. IV, p. 110.
In the mean time the Maior of the City, twelve Aldermen in scarlet, and some six score
Commoners in black coates . . . passed forward by them some forty score. Whereat the
Vice-chancellor and Doctors were much discontented, and made known their grief to
the Chancellor, who presently called his Serjeant at Armes, and willed him to tell the
Maior and his Brethren that they had forgot themselves, and had proceeded beyond their
bounds, and that he required them, upon their perill, to come back again behind him and
the University, and not to dare to speak to the King till they had first done.62
The upshot of this was that, after some discussion, 'the Maior and his company
returned back, behind the Chancellor about some twenty score'. Alan Crossley
writes that in royal visits at Oxford, 'the university always played the major role
from the outset, greeting the visitor first on the edge of its larger precinct, following a
precedent of 1566 when Elizabeth I was met by the university at Godstow bridge,
while the mayor and his party waited in the fields of St Giles'.63 The dispute about
literal precedence, in this case the opportunity to be the first to greet the monarch,
was part of a wider conflict over territorial jurisdictions. The university bounds
extended a mile beyond the walls of the last building of the town in every direction,
whereas the corporation's limits ended at the town walls.
A similar concern with ownership of physical territory underlies a speech
made by the Cambridge town recorder, Francis Brakyn, who greeted James I in the
fields outside Cambridge at the commencement of his visit in 1615. Brakyn's speech
emphasised the antiquity of the town and its connections with royalty through the
several Earls of Cambridge. Brakyn also painted a harmonious picture of the
relationship between town and university:
The Muses did branch from Athens to Cambridge, and were lovinglie lodged in the
houses of Citizens untill Ostles and Halls were erected for them without endowments,
and nowe the materials of the castle, towers, and walls are converted into Colleges,
beautifieing this famous Universitie. It hath bin trulie saide, Quid Musis cum Marie?
but never saide Quid Musis cum Mercatore? Also it hath bin saide of the Abbies,
Religio peperit divitias, et filia devoravit matrem, which we hope shall never be truly
applyed to the University and this Towne.64
In light of the recent tension between the mayor and vice-chancellor, the last
sentence may have rung rather gloomily in the ears of the assembled townsmen, but
none of the Cambridge scholars seems to have commented on the speech.65
Brackyn's previous emphasis on the town's antiquity allowed him to cast the
university as newcomer (which of course it was): the 'houses of Citizens' existed
before the first students arrived, and before the first 'Ostles and Halls' were built.
62
Nichols, Progresses of James I, vol. I, pp. 541-2; Nixon, Oxford's Triumph, sig. A4r'v.
Crossley, 'City and University', p. 120.
64
Nichols, Progresses of James I, vol. Ill, p. 47.
65
Rowland Parker suggests the speech was a preparatory argument in the town's campaign to be
granted the status of city (Town and Gown, p. 124).
63
115
114
Although Brackyn expressed the hope that the daughter would never devour her
mother, nevertheless he hinted that the process had already begun, in that the
'materials' of the town's defensive structures had been dismantled to construct
colleges.
It is also significant that Brackyn identified the town with its market. In both
Oxford and Cambridge, trouble continually arose over the question of market
supervision, with the university-appointed clerks of the market able to enforce
assizes of bread and ale, and of weights and measures.66 At Oxford, control of the
market passed to the university after the St. Scholastica's Day riots in 1354.67
However, this privilege was just one of what Holdsworth terms 'a large and
miscellaneous assortment of jurisdictions' held by the universities. At Oxford, the
chancellor or vice-chancellor presided over the chancellor's court and exercised
jurisdiction over ecclesiastical matters, including 'the morals of both laymen and
ecclesiastics'; criminal jurisdiction 'over all offences under the degree of felony and
mayhem where a member of the university was a party to the proceedings'; and civil
jurisdiction 'in all actions . . . to which a member of the university was a party', even
if the cause of action arose outside the territorial limits of the university.69 The
chancellor's court at Cambridge had a similar, although more limited, jurisdiction.
Tensions between university and townspeople were exacerbated by the lack of
definite boundaries between university privileges and corporation jurisdiction, with
both sides attempting to establish or enlarge their own authority over certain aspects
of town life.
One of these hotly-contested issues was the question of whether corporation or
university would organise the nightly patrol of the streets which enforced the curfew.
Anthony Wood records that in 1611 a controversy over the 'Night-Watch' c. used
Oxford university to implement its strongest sanction against one of the townsmen:
And because Mr. Thomas Wentworth the Recorder was a most malicious and
implacable fomenter and author of these and other troubles, [he] was, by the Decree of
the House, discommoned also; that is to say, that no person under the Chancellor's
jurisdiction should receive counsel from, or admit him into their company, or counsel,
or have any commerce with him or his domestick servants: and further also the
Convocation decreed that he should be registered to all posterity, 'pro infestissimo et
inimicissimo huic Academiae'.70
66
Holdsworth, History/ of English Law, vol. I, p. 168.
J. E. Thorold Rogers, Oxford City Documents: Financial and Judicial 1268-1665 (Oxford,
1891), p. 246. Mallet describes the riots in his Histoiy of the University of Oxford, vol. I, pp. 1602.
68
Holdsworth, Histoiy of English Law, vol. I, p. 169; Shepard, 'Contesting Communities?',
pp. 218-20.
69 i
Holdsworth, Histoiy of English Law, vol. I, p. 169.
70
Wood, Histoiy, voi. II, p. 308.
67
Discommoning was one of the most effective weapons available to the university,
given that a great part of the town was nominally under the jurisdiction of the
chancellor. Not only were all members of the university thus barred from any
transactions with the offender, but so were other privileged persons, including all
university servants, and the tradesmen who supplied the university, as well as
stationers and other members of the book trade.71 It is interesting to note that the
man who incurred the university's wrath on this occasion was the town recorder.
The position of recorder was one of the highest offices in the corporation, and, with
the mayor and town clerk, the recorder had a great deal of influence over corporation
business. It was usually specified in the town charter that the recorder be 'learned in
the law', and this function often seems to have brought the recorders of Oxford and
Cambridge into confrontation with the universities.72
The Cambridge scholars fuelled town/gown animosity with a series of
satirical portraits of townsmen, and in particular the mayor and recorder, in comedies
such as Club Law, acted at Clare Hall (1599/1600), the Parnassus Plays (1598-1601),
and Ignoramus (1615).73 Club Law, in which the targets were all townsmen, was one
of the first satirical university comedies to be acted in English - presumably so that
the intended victims could understand the jokes.74 The play begins with the election
of a new burgomaster of Athens (ie. mayor of Cambridge), who at once sets about
devising plots for the discomforting of the 'gentle Athenians' (scholars): he promises
to 'rout out the whole generacion of them, and make the vagabonds seeke their
dwellings, they shall not nestle with us in our streets, nor out brave us in our owne
dunghills, they shall trudg, they shall trudge, if Nicholas Niphle be head of this Citie,
they shall packe with bag and baggage' (p. 20). To further this aim, Niphle organises
for Mr. Colby, a collier, to 'forestall the markett and came away their Come' (p. 27)
hidden under coals in his cart, and for Mr. Rumford, a butcher, to collect a supply of
clubs with which the townsmen will attack the scholars when they gather the next
day to watch a 'Cudgill play'.
Niphle's antagonism is matched by that of graduates Philenius and Musonius,
who complain that the townsmen 'in stead of our servants . . . seeme to be our
71
Shepard comments that privileged persons occupied a nebulous territory between town and
gown that could be reclassified depending on the current town or university agenda (either
including privileged persons within or ejecting them from the institutions' jurisdictional
boundaries ('Contesting Communities?', pp. 219-20, 229-30).
72
For an introduction to the structure of municipal coiporations, see Bryan Keith-Lucas, The
Unreformed Local Government System (London, 1980), pp. 15-39.
73
See in particular Moore Smith's introduction to Club Law, and Leishman's introduction to The
Three Parnassus Plays.
4
It has been suggested that it was the necessity of producing these comedies in a language
comprehensible to townsmen which prompted scholars to begin writing them in English: there was
already a tradition of topical, satirical Latin comedies at Cambridge, in which the targets were
often scholars themselves (Boas, University Drama, p. 323).
1
|l
117
116
masters, their power is too absolute, they muddy slaves [thinke them selves] to good
to be our servants'. Musonius argues that the antidote to this arrogance is a renewal
of 'the ancient Club-lawe' (p.?). Both • • ••.,i,-.nen and scholars are portrayed as
jealous of their territory and privileges. Bom sides welcome physical violence as an
appropriate way to resolve their differences - although this was possibly because the
mayhem inherent in a staged bout of cudgelling appealed to the young men who
were producing the play.
The various plots are foiled by the scholars, because they are able to discover
the townsmen's intentions, and arrive with writs from 'Mr. Rector' (the vicechancellor) to arrest the wrongdoers in the act. The plan to starve the scholars by
illegally taking com to be sold in another town is uncovered by the young
undergraduate Cricket, who hears 'a sackfull of greasie consultations' (p. 38) while
eavesdropping at Colby's parlour window. Cricket also overhears Niphle arranging
to visit a prostitute at the home of his Welsh friend, Tavie. As a result, Colby and
Niphle are arrested by the Rector's men and imprisoned. It is not only the
omnipresent Cricket who collects information for the university: the graduates
Philenius and Musonius visit the gossiping Mrs. Colby and Mrs. Niphle and
encourage them to give away their husbands' secrets. The two wives are happy to
oblige, on the grounds of promoting 'familiaritie' between themselves and the
scholars, whom they are fruitlessly attempting to seduce.
Through their
manoeuvring, the scholars manage to remain one step ahead of their adversaries,
demonstrating their superiority to the townsmen, and sowing suspicion and mistrust
among them. Philenius insinuates to Niphle that Tavie has betrayed him, saying 'this
tis to trust to a welsh Raskall, that for any light gaine will sell his owne father, is it
possible hee should reveale your secretts?' (p. 58). Musonius characterises the two
wives as 'inconstant flurts, that seeke to injurie their husbands beds in disclosing of
secretts' (p. 70). Inside knowledge is vitally important in the university town: the
play undermines the corporation's position by suggesting that the townspeoples'
secrets are transparent to the university, while the university's secrets remain hidden
from them.75
In response to the townsmen's nocturnal activities, the Rector issues a writ of
discommoning, seemingly against the whole town.76 The townsmen, having lost
their advantage of surprise along with their stockpile of clubs, are comprehensively
beaten in the club battle. Afterwards, Musonius wonders why the burghers did not
immediately capitulate upon being discommoned. Philenius replies 'why, would you
75
The same tensions were aired later in the century by satirical speakers at the Oxford Act; see
chapters five and six, below.
76
A section of the text has been lost at this point.
have it worke in an instant? they quake already, thou shalt see how they will stoope,
when tyme hath shewed how powerfull it is' (p. 86). This proves to be the case. The
fiery Niphle is released from gaol, and argues that he and his fellows should take the
corporation's case to a higher authority, 'the Duke'. However, this plan causes more
dissention among the townsmen, who are feeling the effects of the discommoning
and want to make peace with the 'gentle Athenians'. The former mayor,
Brecknocke, complains to Niphle, 'I tell you in playne tennes, I must either gett my
estate againe, or I cannot live here' (p. 90). Niphle replies, 'well, well Brecknocke
such fearefull fellowes as you are, will be the overthrow of our estate': the
corporation will lose all its power if it humbles itself and asks for peace with the
university. However, Brecknocke is insistent: 'No, no, I will render up my
freedome, for unlesse you will yeild unto it, I am gone, I cannot staye here, doe as
you will, I am gone, I am gone' (p. 90). With their livelihoods threatened, the
townsmen eventually agree to apologise to the university, and the mayor finally takes
an oath of obedience.
Although it reads today as slapstick comedy, the play originally dealt with
many of the most urgent and divisive issues confronting the town and university. In
the first scene we learn that Niphle resents the students' physical presence in the
town - hence his desire to 'rout out the whole generacion of them'. This scenario
recalls the early history of the Oxford schools, when the scholars had on occasion
been forced to flee from the townsmen's violence - a circumstance which both sides
still remembered with bitterness four hundred years later.77 In turn, the solemn
masters Philenius and Musonius believe the townsmen (who they regard as their
inferiors, or 'servants') have too much power. The merchant Colby, with his plan to
carry corn out of Cambridge, is rebelling against the vice-chancellor's strict control
of the markets. In a particularly cunning plan (rejected by Niphle), Brecknocke
suggests providing girls who will lure the scholars into marriage, thus forcing them
to leave the university. This idea, and the graduates' friendly relationship with the
two town wives, illustrate concerns which may have been felt by townsmen about the
exclusively male university. They also hint at the scholars' ambiguous attitude
77
In 1209 most of the masters and pupils left Oxford after the townsmen hanged two students for
complicity in the murder of a townswoman by a third student (R. W. Southern, 'From Schools to
University' in Histoiy of Oxford, Vol. 1, p. 26); many scholars fled Oxford after the St.
Scholastica's Day riots in 1355 (Mallet, Histoiy of the University of Oxford, vol. I, p. 161); at
Cambridge, riots in 1249 and 1261 also resulted in temporary exodus (Leader, Histoiy of
Cambridge, Vol. 1, pp. 33-4).
His actual speech is: 'By my tricks in my foolish opinion, He tell you what; wee have a great
many of prettie smugg girles in the towne, they shall gett the gentle Athenians in, and they shall
gett them with child, and all the gentle Athenians shall have basterds and then the gentle Athenians
shall be married and so wee shall be ridd of them' (Club Law, p. 26).
119
118
towards the town women, v/ho were both seductive and dangerous.79 The outcome
of Niphle's visit to Luce the prostitute demonstrates the vice-chancellor's ability to
have his men investigate townsmen's homes in search of suspected adulterous
women, and the proctors' right to arrest those caught in compromising situations.
Cricket's exploits raise questions about who is allowed to be on the streets at night,
and what they are doing there. Discommoning is regarded as the final solution to the
university's problems, but the townsmen are anxious about their livelihoods being
dependent on the university. Even the mayor's reluctr'"" to take the oath of
obedience reflected a contemporary disagreement.80 Only the presence of both
scholars and townsmen at a public display of 'Cudgill play' suggests the possibility
of amicable co-existence and mutually enjoyed entertainment - and the plot requires
that this become the setting for an outbreak of violence. The presentation of a
remarkably topical scene, complete with specific local concerns, gives added impetus
to the satire.
The text of the play seems sufficiently insulting for even the most satirical of
academics. However, Thomas Fuller, in his Histoiy of the University of Cambridge,
gives an account of the production:
The young Schollars conceiving themselves somewhat wronged by the Tn-->rvnen, . . .
betook them for revenge to their wits, as the weapon wherein lay their best advantage.
These having gotten a discovery of some Town privacies, from Miles Goldsborrough
(one of their own Corporation) composed a merry (but abusive) Comedy, (which they
calPd CLUB-LAW) in English, as calculated for the capacities of such, whom they
intended spectatours thereof. Clare-Hall was the place wherein it was acted, and the
Major, with his Brethren, and their Wives, were invited to behold it, or rather
themselves abused therein. A convenient place was assigned to the Townsfolk, (rivetted
in with Schollars on all sides) where they might see and be seen. Here they did behold
themselves in their own best cloathes (which the Schollars had borrowed) so livelily
personated, their habits, gestures, language, lieger-jests, and expressions, that it was
hard to decide, which was the true Townsman, whether he that sat by, or he who acted
on the Stage. Sit still they could not for chafing, go out they could not for crowding, but
impatiently patient were fain to attend till dismissed at the end of die Comedy ?x
Moore Smith, in the introduction to his edition of Club Law, expresses doubts as to
the reliability of Fuller's account, judging it 'very improbable' that the scholars could
have borrowed the townsmen's clothes, and 'a little unlikely' that the townsmen
would have come to see the play. Fuller's is the only surviving description of the
79
The scholars' attitudes towards women will be discussed more fully in chapter six, below.
Club Law, pp. xviii-xix.
81
Thomas Fuller, Histoiy of the University of Cambridge since the Conquest (London, 16!>5),
80
E- 156Club Law, p. liv. Although I agree with Moore Smith that the scholars were unlikely to have
had acces; to the townsmen's clothes, the use of real garments as costumes to heighten dramatic
effect was common in early modern court drama (Orgel, Illusion of Power, p. 5).
performance of Club Law, at which he could not have been present, as he proceeded
M.A. at Cambridge in 1628." However, even if the story had been embellished and
transformed into Cambridge myth in the twenty or so years intervening between the
performance and his time at Queens' College, there is no reason to doubt Fuller's
main assertion that the townsmen were present at a performance of the play. There is
evidence that townspeople had occasionally been invited to attend earlier college
productions.84 Later in the seventeenth centiry, the universities often entertained
themselves with 'meta-comedy' of the type described by Fuller. Audience reaction
was a vital part of formal performances like academic disputations and lighter
occasions such as the terrae-filius and praevaricator speeches.85 it is possible that
Fuller's account of Club Law's production was coloured by his own experience of
contemporary satirical performances.
hi Fuller's account, the play is an instrument of revenge, designed
specifically for this end, with its language and content tailored to its intended
audience. However, rather than simply relying on the wit of the satire to browbeat
their enemies, the scholars engineer the entire occasion to demonstrate their power
over the townsmen. Fuller emphasises the pointedness of the production, and the
deliberate way in which the scholars arranged for the townsmen to witness their own
humiliation. The townsfolk are trapped 'where they mighj <re and be seen': they are
forced to become actors in the performance, so that the primary comedy of the actual
play is enhanced by the fun of watching the townsmen's reactions to their satirical
caricatures.86 We are told that the scholars made use of privileged information about
town affairs, and even borrowed the iownsfolk's own clothes, to reinforce the
parody. This intrusion into their lives would have demonstrated to the townsmen that
their secrets (and possibly even their wardrobes) were open to the university. If this
did in fact take place it vouM have proved that, just as is suggested in the play, the
townsmen's own territory could be unversed at will by the scholars.87 hi Fuller's
account, the play's staging reflects this situation. Not only are the students mocking
83
Furthermore, his History was not published until 1655, when it was appended to The Church
Histoiy of Britain from ihe Birth of Jesus Christ until the Year M.DCXLVUI.
8
" REED Cambridge, vol. I, p. 178: Boas, University Drama, p. 25.
85
The performance of terrae-filius, praevaricator and other satirical orations will be discussed
below. For a more general look at the interaction of audience with players in early drama, see Ann
Jennalie Cook's 'Audiences: Investigation, Interpretation, Invention' in A New History' of Early
English Drama ed. John D. Cox and David Scott Kastan (New York, 1997)
6(>
James Anderson Winn mentions the tradition 'that Buckingham and Buckhurst maneuvered
Dryden into sitting in their box at the premiere' of The Rehearsal; however, since he gives the
earliest printed source of this story as Thomas Davies's Dramatic Miscellanies (Dublin, 1784), we
must regard it with suspicion {John Dryden and his World (New Haven, 1987), p. 229 and n).
Sarah Knight points out Thomas Nashe's claim that the actors in the satirical comedy Pedantius
(1581) borrowed Gabriel Harvey's gown 'to playe the Part in, the more to flout him' {From
Pedantius to Ignoramus.- University Drama at Oxford and Cambridge, 1580-1625 (unpublished
Ph.D. dissertation, Yale University, forthcoming).
121
120
the townsmen publicly, but they are doing it from a powerful position in their own
college grounds, onto which the townsmen are allowed only by invitation. Fuller's
description emphasises the scholars' absolute control over the situation: the
townsmen were 'invited' to the play, a place was 'assigned' them, where they were
'rivetted in' by scholars, so that 'crowding' made it impossible for them to leave,
until finally they were 'dismissed' at the end of the comedy. The physical
immediacy and blatant exhibitionism of the occasion heightens the aggression of this
satirical performance.
I have already noted Kaplan's point that early-modern legal theory 'identified
theatrical impersonation of actual people . . . as slander'.90 She quotes Privy Council
and Star Chamber records for 1601 that forbid or punish slanderous theatrical
productions.91 By involving the Privy Council, the corporation suggested that not
only their jurisdiction, but the government of the whole state had been threatened by
the scholars' mockery. Once again, the struggle between university and corporation
was played out in the view of the court - although not as literally as it was to be at
the performance of Ignoramus, fifteen years later.
The townsmen's identities are imprisoned by theatrical representation in the
same way that their bodies are physically restricted in Fuller's account of its
performance. The presentation of highly-personalised caricatures in the play can be
seen as an attempt to negate the townspeople's control over their own selfpresentation. Fuller suggests this with his (rather hyperbolic) comment, that 'it was
hard to decide, which was the true Townsman, whether he that sat by, or he who
acted on the Stage'. According to his account, the scholar-actors usurped the
townspeople's very identities. By doing this, the scholars were able to re-write the
townspeople's relationships with each other, and with the university. The townsmen
depicted in the play are betrayed by their wives, who repeat the details of their
husbands' plots to the scholars in the hope of gaining their favour. The women also
complain to each other about their husbands' lack of desire for them, and Mrs.
Niphle promises that she will 'have a sonne this yeare a Gentleman' (p. 32), partly to
spite her husband, who is meeting another woman. The only voices the townspeople
have are the ones imposed on them by the scholars. In Club Law, as in many other
university productions, the townspeople's caricatures tend to speak in what J. B.
Leishman calls 'the Dogberry and Verges manner' - fawning and nonsensically
In response to the townsmen's complaint, the Privy Council 'sent some slight
and private check to the principal7 Actors', but this was apparently not sufficient to
appease the townsmen. Fuller cautiously repeats 'a tradition, many earnestly
engaging for the truth thereof, that the townsmen called for a more severe
on
verbose.
Others have peculiarities of dialect and pronunciation, such as the
Welshman Tavie, French Monsieur, and the butcher Rumford, a northener. As well
as identifying their characters, and possibly mimicking real townspeople, the speech
patterns attributed to the townspeople mark them out as foreign and uneducated,
especially when compared with the speeches of the graduates Musonius and
Philenius.
According to Fuller, the corporation responded to the provocation of Club Law
with one of the few weapons available to it.
The Major and his Brethren soon after complain of this libellous Play to the Lords of
the Privie Councell, and truly aggravate the Schollars offence, as if the Majors Mace
could not be played with, but that the Scepter it selfe is touched therein.89
punishment, with the response that
the Lords promised in short time to come to Cambridge, and (because the life in such
things is lacking when onely read) they themselves would see the same Comedy, with
all the properties thereof, acted over again, (the Townsmen as formerly, being enjoyned
to be present thereat) that so they might the better proportion the punishment to the
faidt, if any appeared. But rather than the Townsmen would be witnesses again to their
own abusing, (wherein many things were too farre from, and some things too near to
truth) they fairly fell off from any farther prosecution of the matter.92
Moore Smith points out that there is nothing in the records of the Privy Council to
confirm that this exchange ever took place, so it should probably be regarded as
apocryphal - arising perhaps, as Boas suggests, from Niphle's plan to complain of
the scholars before the Duke.93 However, it does reinforce the idea that much of the
sting and disgrace of the play were conveyed through the occasion of its
performance.
It is this emphasis on performance which characterises university satires
aimed at townspeople. More than in other situations, the university concentrated on
display in its dealings with recalcitrant townspeople. Several factors contribute to
this prevailing tendency, the most important of these being language. Although of
course members of both groups spoke English, there is still a sense in which they
lacked a common language. Most university business, entertainment, and indeed
everyday conversation, was conducted in Latin. While it has been argued that the
scholars made concessions to the townspeoples' presumed inability to understand
Latin by writing satires in English, the emphasis placed on the performance of these
satires can be seen to reinforce the message. Just as early shops displayed pictorial
90
See above, p. 62.
Kaplan, Culture of Slander, pp. 30-32.
92
Fuller, Histoiy of Cambridge, p. 156.
93
Moore Smith, Club Law, pp. liv-v; Boas, University Drama, p. 331.
91
88
89
Leisliman, Parnassus Plays, p. 40.
Fuller, Histoiy of Cambridge, p. 156.
123
122
signs advertising their wares to the illiterate, so the university made their satires into
performances for those not able to grasp fully the meaning of a text.
The element of display was also connected with territorial issues. In the third
act of Club Law, Cricket mentions a possible punishment for Niphle's adultery: 'wee
may cry out of this lecherous villaine, and tell him of his holesome girle and of his
burnings. If we can doe nothing els, wele fill all the Towne full of Rimes of him.
wele paint all the Boggards with papers and so disgrace him, that wele make him
hange him selfe' (p. 42). As Cricket makes clear, the point of satiric 'Rimes' is not
only to disgrace Niphle in front of his peers, but to force awareness of his disgrace
onto him. The physicality of libels posted on boghouse and other walls marks
territory for the libellers, irrespective of what is actually said in the text. It also
reveals the text to a wider potential audience: not only does the libeller claim a
particular space, but he announces his claim to everyone. This brings us to the
question of audience - performances demand a response from their audience in a
way that text does not, and this response can be used by satirists. The immediacy of
performance heightens the effect of satire, giving it an aggressive edge. In an
environment where pride and honour depended on displays of wealth and power, and
the respect and good opinion of neighbours was vital to successful town life, a
display of disrespect was much more provocative than a written attack.
The Inns of Court
. . . the King went again to Cambrige to see the play Ignoramus which hath so netled the
Lawiers that they are almost out of all patience, and the Lord Cheife Justice both openly
at the Kings Bench and divers other places hath galled and glaunced at schollers with
much bittemes, and there be divers ynne of court men have made rimes and ballades
against them, winch they have aunswered sharply enough.. .94
Even though the characterization of Ignoramus probably owes much to Cambridge
scholars' dislike of the town recorder specifically, and Inns-of-Court men generally,
it may also stem from the ongoing struggle between the proponents of civil and
common law in early seventeenth-century England. Although attempts were made to
reconcile the two, it seems that most lawyers saw either the common or civil law as
the more important, founding code.95 There was general concern from both sides that
the opposition was attempting to establish their code as the sole arbiter.96 English
civil law, based on Roman civil law, was practised in the ecclesiastical courts of the
Archbishop of Canterbury, the High Court of Admiralty, and the High Court of
Chivalry, whereas the common law was practised in the courts at Westminster, and
*" Chamberlain, Letters, vol. I, pp. 597-8.
95
Brian P. Levack, The Civil Lawyers in England 1603-1641 (Oxford, 1973), pp. 136-44.
96
Ibid., passim.
was based on cases and precedent.97 Civil law was taught exclusively at Oxford and
Cambridge in a highly theoretical manner. Young gentlemen learned the common
law at the Inns of Court, in a much more practical course of study which was
comparable to an apprenticeship.
However, it was not only the learning, but the application, of the two different
codes which led to disharmony and mistrust between civil and common lawyers.
Civil lawyers generally supported the king against parliament, for a variety of
reasons, but pi .narily because the king was their only hope of support against the
common lawyers' encroachments on their jurisdictions.98 The Puritans hated civil
lawyers because they were charged with upholding established religious orthodoxy
in the ecclesiastical courts. Conversely, the common law was seen as the natural law
of the land since time immemorial, and common lawyers the defenders of
Englishmen's rights against the threat of arbitrary monarchical rule. It was this
discussion, over the nature and limits of royal sovereignty, which drew James I into
conflict with the common lawyers, and in particular, with Chief Justice Sir Edward
Coke. This in turn may have been an inducement to the Cambridge scholars to
present a portrait of a common lawyer which was sure to appeal to the king's wellknown prejudices."
George Ruggle adapted the basic plot of Ignoramus from Giambattista Delia
Porta's Italian comedy La Trappolaria (1596), but his characterisation was original
to the Cambridge production.100 Most of the humour in the play stems from the
character of Ignoramus - an ignorant but cunning lawyer who is in love with
Rosabella. He has arranged to buy Rosabella from her uncle, but eventually loses
her to his young rival Antonius, through a series of tricks, disguises, and false
accusations masterminded by Antonius's clever servant Trico. Ignoramus's opening
speech is a representative example of the farrago of Latin, Law-French and English
in which he speaks throughout the play.
Phi, Phi, tanta pressa, tanrum croudum, vt fui pene pressus ad mortem: habebo
actionem de intrusions contra omnes et singulos. Aha Mounsiers voulez voz intruder
par ioint Tenaunt. . . O valde caleor, O chaud, chaud, precor deum non meltavi meum
pingue. Phi, Phi. In nomine Dei vbi sunt Clerici mei iam?101
For a detailed discussion of civil law and lawyers in the early seventeenth century, see Levack's
Civil Lawyers.
98
Levack, Civil Lawyers, p. 81.
99
Aubrey notes in his life of Sir Edward Coke that the actors 'dressed Sir Ignoramus like Chief
Justice Coke and cutt his beard like him and feigned his voyce. This drollery did sett all the
Lawyers against the Clergie' (Aubrey's Brief Lives, p. 68).
100
E. F. J. Tucker, A Critical Edition of Ferdinando Parkhurst's Ignoramus, the AcademicalLawyer (New York, 1987), pp. xxix-xxxi.
101
'Phi, Phi, such a press, such a crowd, that I am pressed almost to death; I will have an action of
intrusion against one and all. Aha Monsieurs will you intrude on a joint tenant? . . . I am very
warm, hot, hot! I pray God I have not melted my fat. Phi, phi. In the name of God where are my
125
124
This mockery of their speech was the most obvious and repeated satirical shaft aimed
at the common lawyers - and it seems to have been well-deserved. Even the Inns-ofCourt men who responded to Ignoramus in verse found themselves on shaky ground
when they attempted to justify the bizarre amalgamation of tongues in which the
common law was conducted.
However, Ignoramus's speech is made even more ridiculous by his habitual
and uncomprehending use of stock law terms ^ d legal phrases in inappropriate
situations. In the extract cited above, Ignoramus threatens an 'action of intrusion'
against those crowding him, confusing the English sense of intrusion with the legal
meaning which refers specifically to the acquisition of estates.102 Similarly
nonsensical is his reference to joint tenancy. He is so dependent on legal jargon that
he even uses it to woo Rosabella, claiming 'Amor tuus fecit me legalem Poetam5
(I.v). E. F. J. Tucker remarks that Ignoramus uses legal terminology constantly to
bolster his own sense of self-importance, and points out that his 'combination of
false erudition and legal ignorance' has its literary antecedent in Chaucer's
Summoner.103
By portraying Ignoramus as speaking almost solely in legal terms, though,
Ruggle has done more than reproduce a stock characterization of the bombastic
lawyer. In the early seventeenth century, the ability to speak Latin with confidence
and sophistication was crucial to distinguishing between erudite and non-erudite
groups. The fact that Inns-of-Court men and common lawyers spoke Latin would
ordinarily place them in a similar group to the academics, but for the purposes of
satire, this was not desirable. Therefore Ignoramus's status as a Latin speaker was
subverted: rather than being freed by his knowledge of the language, he is restricted
to certain formulae which he must repeat constantly, whether applicable or not.
Ignoramus himself comments on his own limitations, in his first tongue-tied speech
to Rosabella: 'Ha he, Rosabella me, hem hem hem, Madame, et vos mei Magistri
iurati, hec est Actio super casum. Phi, phi, lingua vadit ad verba accustomata' (I.v).
Ignoramus's dialogue is difficult for other characters to understand because of his
legal jargon. Surda's response to these lines is representative: 'Quantum video, hie
homo stultus est'.104 By fettering Ignoramus's speech in this way, Ruggle prevents
him from interacting properly with the other characters of the play, effectively
marginalising him from the main action. This is demonstrated most strongly by the
tricks which are practised by other characters to deceive Ignoramus, culminating in
his being the victim of a sham exorcism, where the legal phrases with which he
threatens his assailants are mistaken for the names of devilish familiars.105
The central place given to discussions of language in Ignoramus and the
ensuing deluge of verses reflects its significance in this, as in all intellectual contests.
The common law was almost wholly conducted in the public courtroom, in a
rhetorical display which depended on language for its efficacy. The law could not
exist without language. Sir Edward Coke wrote about Law-French:
. . . so many ancient Termes and words drawne from that legall French, are growne to
be Vocabula artis, Vocables of Art, so apt & significant to expresse the true sense of the
Lawes, & are so woven into the lawes themselves, as it is in a manner impossible to
change them, neither ought legal termes to be changed.106
In Coke's eyes, the law and its language were so intertwined, that to change one
would be to change the other, possibly destroying both in the process. In Ignoramus,
the phrases used in the common law that would, in their proper context, carry great
power over people's lives, are rendered impotent and almost meaningless by their
use in everyday conversations. By denying their language power and meaning,
Ruggle denies the common lawyers' authority, and undermines their whole
profession.
W. C. Richardson, paraphrasing Holdsworth's Histoiy of English Law, points
out that 'the lawyers and judges perpetuated a professional language which only
those trained at the Inns could understand'.107 To make the division between
university and Inns-of-Court education even more obvious to his audience, Ruggle
introduces the character of Musaeus, one of Ignoramus's clerks. Ignoramus has been
discussing forged documents with his other clerks in Law-French, and asks Musaeus
his opinion. Musaeus replies that he has not understood, an ambiguous remark in
this context. He either lacks knowledge of the subject (because it is a stock lawyer's
pettifoggery), or has not been able to understand the conversation (because it has
been conducted in a jargon unintelligible to an educated person). In either case, the
following exchange ensues:
Igno. Tu es Gallichrista, vocatus a Coxcombe; nunquam faciam te Legistam.
Dul. Nunquam, nam ille fuit Vniuersitans.
nd
Clerks now?' (Ignoramus, 2 ed. (London, 1630), l.iii)
102
The enlarged edition of Cowell's Interpreter gives this explanation for Intrusion: 'when the
Ancestor dies seized of any Estate of Inheritance, expectant upon an Estate for life; and then
Tenant for life dies, between whose death, and the Entry of the Heir, a Stranger doth interpose and
intrude' (Nomothetes: The Interpreter, Containing the Genuine Signification of such Obscure
Words and Terms used either in the Common or Statute Lawes of this Realm (London, 1672),
sig.Pplr)Tucker, Parkhurst's Ignoramus, p. 241.
104
Middleton used a similar device for comic effect in a dialogue between the scholarly Tim and
his Welsh bride-to-be (A Chaste Maid in Cheapside, IV.[i]. 100-156).
105
For a fuller treatment of this topic, see Tucker's discussion of 'The Lawyer as Vice Figure',
where he situates Ignoramus in the context of other 'lawyer-devils' in the drama of the time
(Parkhurst 's Ignoramus, pp. xxxii-xxxvi).
106
Sir Edward Coke, The First Part of the Institutes of the Laws of England. Or, A Commentarie
upon Littleton (London, 1656), sig. A6 r .
107
W. C. Richardson, A History of the Inns of Court (Baton Rouge, n.d.), p. 140.
127
126
Igno. Sunt magnze Idiotse, et Clerici nihilorum isti Vniuersitantes: miror quomodo
spendisti tuum tempus inter eos.
Mus. Vt plurimum versatus sum in Logica.
Igno. Qua? villa? quod Burgum est Logical
Mus. Est vna artium liberalium.
Igno. Liberalium: Sic putabam: In nomine dei stude Artes parcas et lucrosas: non est
mundus pro Artibus liberalibus iam.108
Dulman attributes Musaeus's incompetence at law clerking to his having been a
'universiter', and Ignoramus agrees that university men are 'great idiots' and no
clerks. The latter demonstrates his complete (and comic) ignorance of the university
curriculum by mistaking logic for a city or town. He is not much wiser after being
told that logic is one of the liberal arts, and argues, tellingly, that 'niggardly and
gainful arts' should rather be studied, as it is 'no world for liberal arts'.109
It was not long before the common lawyers launched a counter-attack. Several
of the 'rimes and ballads' with which the Inns-of-Court men defended themselves
form part of a series of arguments and counter-arguments. The earliest of those
extant seems to be a poem which begins 'Faith gentlemen I doe not blame yor witt'.
The verse is transcribed under the cumbrous but revealing title 'Unto the Comedians
of Cambridg who in ther Acts before the King abused the Lawyers wth an imposed
Ignorance in two ridiculous persons Ignoramus ye Mr & Duhnanus ye clarke: John-astyles student in yc Common law wisheth a sounder iudgm1, & a more Reuerent
opinion of ther betters'.110 'John-a-styles' begins by turning the charge of ignorance
back onto the Cambridge scholars, claiming they 'knowe the world by mapps, and
never dare / . . . beyond Barkway ride, or beyond Ware' (11. 5-6), remaining instead
at Cambridge, becoming 'exceeding learned fooles' (1. 8).111 The author implies that
the scholars' ignorance stems from their lack of experience and their narrow outlook:
they 'like proud minded Greeke in scorne deride / As rude Barbarians all the world
108
Ignoramus, I.iii.
Perhaps there is a hint of frustration here - in the early seventeenth century there had been
increasing complaints about the difficulty of making a reasonable living from the civil law. The
109
perceived lack of opportunity had its correspondence in the small numbers of civil law graduates:
during the years 1601-10 only seventeen doctorates in civil law were awarded at both Oxford and
Cambridge, compared with forty in 1581-90, and twenty-nine in 1591-1600 (Levack, Civil
Lawyers, p. 51). On the other hand, Ruggle may have been echoing the (seemingHy universal)
scholarly lament, that an education in the humanities is undervalued and dismissed as impractical
by those living outside the universities.
110
Bodleian MS Rawl. poet. 26, ff. 31v-32r. Other Bodleian Library MS copies are noted in Cram
(Fl 17). Nelson transcribes the title and first line from British Library MS Add. 23723 {REED
Cambridge, vol. II, p. 874). The poem is partially transcribed in Cooper, Annals, vol. Ill, p. 88
and Nichols, Progresses of James I, vol. Ill, p. 75 (from BL MS Sloane 1775), and wholly in
Inedited Poetical Miscellanies ed. Hazlitt, sigs K8V-L2.
111
Nichols notes the mention of Barkway and Ware 'was so far noticed at the time, as to be
alluded to in the Epilogue to Ignoramus on its second representation' (Progresses of James I,
vol. Ill, p. 75). 'John-a-Styles' was a fictitious name for one party to a legal action, usually
coupled with 'John-a-Nokes' as the name of the other party (Tilley, J66).
beside' (11. 11-12). This is one of the primary distinctions which is made between
university and Inns-of-Court men by the latter. As well as the straightforward claim
that university men live in a cloistered society while Inns-of-Court men are free to
roam the country at large, the author is also making a statement about the type of
scholarship undertaken by each community. It is not simply the physical world
which the scholars 'knowe . . . by mapps', but also their erudite world of scholarly
pursuit, in which texts - maps of current knowledge - are all-important. At the Inns,
however, knowledge of the law and skill in its application are gained by participation
in court proceedings, and by watching eminent lawyers at work. The implication that
scholars are provincial and blinkered in their outlook probably also originates in the
fact that many Inns-of-Court men attended university for one or more years before
going down to London and joining an Inn. Naturally, men who had done so would
see themselves as more worldly and experienced than the scholars who had stayed
behind.
The law student goes on to make a further claim about the boundary between
his and the university scholar's knowledge:
The Lawyers learning is a science farre
Above th' meere schollars reach: it is a starre
Out of his Horizon: that never doth appeare
In all his Encycopaedia's Hemisphere
(11. 23-6)
Again, the scholar's learning is encompassed within the boundaries of the
'Encycopaedia', whereas the lawyer's is, interestingly, a 'science', and far beyond
the other's reach. The astronomical metaphor emphasises the division between the
two branches of learning, and its use implies that even if the scholar were to look for
the common law at Cambridge, he would not find it. Continuing to give knowledge
a physical dimension, he also makes a rather indignant stab at the frivolity of the
Cambridge playwrights, claiming that the common lawyers' knowledge is 'solid,
graue, substantiall / Rather wise then witty, Iudgment all' (11. 27-8), and not suitable
subject-matter for a play.
All this is merely a preparatory skirmish before the author's main argument,
which is devoted to vindicating legal terminology. His argument relies on one of the
things which separated common from civil law - the use of precedent. Speaking
about Law-French and Latin, he says:
. . . for wee
Cannot mend that which must not mended bee:
Each severall deed hath presedents in store,
And wee must doe iust what was done before
(11. 37-40)
Just as the common law, the lex terrae, was regarded by many lawyers and
parliamentarians as sacrosanct, so its language was unassailable. Both language and
legal system grew more powerful with each iteration, and each addition to the body
129
128
That nere outride your circuits; and are barr'd
of precedent. The author uses the distance he had previously established between
scholars and lawyers to justify the continued use of Law-French, admitting its
To misse a Terme for feare yor freinds should chance
Therby to argue your true Ignorance
dialect both French and Lattin wee conclude
With yw is obsolete, deformed, rude,
Ludibrium linguae: subject for a play
If Nevius hath nothing ells to say (11. 33-6)
Again, he implies that the scholars were mocking something they did not
comprehend. However, a note of defensiveness undermines his bolder declarations.
There is an ambiguity about the claim that 'Were Cicero a lawyer he must write /
False & rude Lattin' (11. 41-2): it is only the lawyers' profession which justifies their
use of a defective tongue. The scholars are scorned for adhering to 'ther pedant
Lilly's rules' (1. 44), but the author has himself used several Latin phrases and words
in his poem, as though to prove that he is perfectly well-versed in Lily's grammar.
This ambiguity extends to his conception of the common law: he curses the sneering
scholar with the words 'Him many suites God grant / With your own Advocate an
Ignorant' (11. 53-4), thus seeming to agree tacitly with the common perception of
lawsuits as burdensome to all parties involved except the lawyers.
John-a-styles was answered with a poem beginning 'Reuerend John styles for
stile wee will not iarre'.112 The title, 'Dulman the Clarke to John a Styles of Grey's
Inne sends Greeting', suggests, in its specification of Grey's Inn, that 'Dulman'
either knew or suspected the provenance of the poem he was answering - indicating
that ties between the two institutions were closer than the poets would have their
readers believe. The conversational tone of the poem reinforces this perception, as
do Dulman's reference to 'your last letters that you sent' (1. 3) and his closing
couplet: 'Dulman writes this to serve tiiyne expectacon / And lookes for an answere
the next Vacation' (11. 79-80).
Dulman begins with a snide comment about John's style, exclaiming that his
'Muse is wider then sh' was wont to bee; / For Lamiae, Horizon, Hemisphere, /
'Mongst all yor tearmes of law doe nere appeare' (11. 4-6). He implies that the Innsof-Court writer was trying too hard to appear learned, and by repeating words and
phrases verbatim from the earlier poem, creates a mockingly parodic version in
which John's claims are systematically refuted. The repetition also acknowledges
and expedites the public consumption of their debate - the series of verse replies is
much easier to follow when phrases from the previous text are reused. To the
argument that scholars never leave their university towns, Dulman responds with
I'st wee or yw that knowe the world by card,
112
Bodleian MS Rawl. poet. 26, f. 32r'v. Other Bodleian copies noted in Crum (R181). Nelson
transcribes title and first line from British Library MS Add. 23723 {REED Cambridge, vol. II,
p. 874).
(11. 17-20)
Not only are the common lawyers limited by their 'circuits', but they are firmly tied
to their Inns by the statute which required them to be present for a certain number of
terms.113 Dulman goes a step further with this argument, however, and links it with
the question of the lawyers' latin, asking, 'When durst your broken lattin, or your
store / Of unlickt language passe the English shore' (11. 21-2). In addition to the
demands of their occupation, their unscholarly Latin prevents them from travelling
abroad because they would, it is claimed, be unable to communicate with the learned
communities on the continent.114
The scholar goes on to voice a profound complaint about the lawyers'
profession itself. Common law judgements are dependent on the interpretation of
precedents, which, as Dulman points out, might differ between different judges. In
addition, he repeats the widely-held opinion that 'Clarks & Attornys all haue tricks in
store' (1. 63), and that they conspire to relieve the scholars of their purses. He scoffs
at John's final curse, claiming that 'when ye Deuill Drawes us to suites, and driues us
on to euilF (11. 75-6) it would only be 'by great good chance' (1. 77) that scholars
might meet a lawyer who was not dull and ignorant. Lawsuits, in this view, are not
merely hazardous, but positively evil and prompted by the devil. Yet the author
admits that not all lawyers are ignorant or malicious, and claims that 'those learned
in the law we reverence' (1. 72).
An even stronger attempt at even-handedness is found in the ballad beginning
'My senses doe o'erflowe wth heate and passion', which is a long defence of the
common law against the Cambridge scholars.115 Entitled 'A modest and temperate
reproofe of the schollars of Camebridge for slandering Lawyers wth the barbarous
and gross title Ignoramus', the poem's modesty and temperance is demonstrated by
its author's willingness to find 'many a gull, / Vnskilfull gown-men, ignorant & dull'
(11. 39-40) among the lawyers, and, on the other side, 'some learned & full of
sobernesse' (1. 20) in Cambridge. Of course, this does not prevent him from calling
attention to the Cambridge 'Peddants and . . . blockish fry / that swarme abroad, &
through the world doth fly' (11. 23-4). His main concern, however, is to vindicate the
profession by listing eminent common lawyers known for their learning, which he
does at length, finally breaking off with the comment 'But I desist, for if I should
113
Wilfrid R. Prest, The Inns of Court under Elizabeth I and the Early Stuarts, 1590-1640
(London, 1972), pp. 15-16. Of course, the universities had similar residence requirements.
114
Although English scholars as a group were open to this charge. Scaliger, when an English
scholar addressed him in Latin, is supposed to have apologised for not understanding English
(Sandys, Histoiy of Classical Scholarship, vol. II, p. 234).
115
Bodleian MS Rawl. poet. 26, ff. 34v-36r. Other Bodleian copies noted in Crum (M872).
.'6
1
130
131
I
descend, / my Catalogue would never fynde an end' (11. 119-20). This poet situates
the Inns of Court as an interim step between university and the ultimate goal of a
court appointment. He asks 'the sisters' chidingly ' Wch of us all, that any learning
has / but at the first by yow instructed was?' (11. 75-6), and argues that the
'ground=work' of the Inns suidents' knowledge was laid at the universities.
However, they 'improve, and are more perfect made' (1. 84) at the Inns, thereby
becoming "fytt for place and governement' (1. 86). This apparently refining quality
of the. Inns reflects the seventeenth-century student population, which was mainly
composed of gentlemen's sons.116 The poeV's time at the university, however, has
given him further insight into the interactions between the lawyers, scholars and
townsmen, which he uses as ammunition in his argument for the common lawyers.
\ i
. . . a Rebell who hath taken Armes:
He promises to helpe his Countries harmes,
But hath a meaning to supprise the towne,
And make the totall Regiment his owne
(11. 123-6)
The military images employed in this metaphor reflect Stephens's suspicion about
the nature of the scholars' assault, and alert his readers to the existence of underlying
intentions which run counter to the scholars' stated aims. By identifying them as
rebels he once again attempts to set the scholars in opposition to the king, whose
territory, or prerogative, they are usuiping in their attack on common lawyers. His
description cf the field of literary combat in terms of the nation's political situation is
another instance of intellectual territory becoming bound up with physical territory:
the same problems plague both, and both are ultimately controlled by the king.
He demands that the universities
Bethincke yor selves, whoe keepes yow from the rude
and strong incroachments of the multitude!
Whoe is't that favors yow and beare[s] yow out
against yor towns-men & their busy rout?
Whoe does p[ro]tect yor Colledges & lande
From greedy Ahab, and the gripers hande?
of the poem when he claims that, in Ignoramus, a 'thriving knowledge' of the law
has been 'made a publike iniury, to please / Them, who should punish the contempt;
& squease / That shamefull enuy' (11. 13-15). According to Stephens, the Cambridge
scholars' attempt to 'procure the King to laugh enough' (1. 277) has disrupted the
natural order of the kingdom, in which the king should be on the side of the common
law. He gives this disruption a subversive edge by likening the scholars' claim that
they were attacking lawyers, rather than the law, to
(11. 11-16)
This suggests that at least some common lawyers saw themselves in alliance with the
universities against the townsmen, which would be natural enough, where university
loyalties persisted.
Of all the responses, the most determinedly satirical is John Stephens's verse
essay 'Reproofe. Or a defence for the common Law & Lawyers mixt with reproofe
against the Lawyers common Enemy'.117 Stephens, a member of Lincoln's Inn,
seems not to have matriculated at either university. He professes kind feelings
towards Cambridge, calling her 'dearest Cambridge, best in my respect' (1. 77) and
praising her learning. However, he attacks her for having misused the 'precious
wealth' (1. 88) of her talent, asking 'What prodigall and riotous expence / Hath tum'd
thee bankroupt?' (11. 83-4). There is, it seems, a hint of anger at Cambridge's
richness in both economic and cultural capital, and at her insular attitude. Stephens's
long series of rhetorical questions culminates with the inquiry whether the university
'canst nothing spare but mouldy sauce / To welcome and deserve the Kings
applause?' (11. 103-4). The king's applause .s seen by Stephens as the motivating
factor for Cambridge's attack on the common law. He implies this at the beginning
A commonplace-book entry written by William Whiteway provides an
interesting coda to the reception of Ignoramus. Dated 1634, the entry reads:
While this Comedy was acting before King lames in Cambridge, the inventors (to make
the King an actor in it) caused a post to come galloppinp into the Towne, & When he
came upon the Stage, he coHimanded the Comedians to k ^beare, for that My Lord cheif
Iustice Was enformed that they had made a knavish peice of worke to disgrace the
Lawyers, & would haue them appeare befor him to answere it. The Actors gaue ouer,
as if they had not dared to proceed. Whereupon King lames ros out of his chaire, &
beckened to them With his hand, & saying - Goe on Goe on, I will beare you out." 8
As C. E. McGee points out, this story most likely refers to the second performance of
the play, when the indignation of the lawyers (and particularly Chief Justice Coke)
was at its height. McGee comments that the meta-comical device described by
Whiteway 'was designed to make fun of that anger and to contain it by eliciting the
public support of King James for the play and the players'.119 Like Fuller's account
of Club Law, Whiteway's story must be regarded as part of the Cambridge
mythology which had grown about the productions of these two plays. However,
both narratives describe occasions on which the satire of a text was emphasised in
vb
' Levack, Civil Lawyers, pp. 9-16.
In Essayes and Characters. Ironical! and Instructive (London, 1615), pp. 29-50. Stephens had
published an earlier volume entitled Safyrical essayes, characters and others (London, 1615). The
second edition, Essays and Characters, took advantage of the current controversy. The second
printing was largely uncha:iged, except for the inclusion of the essay 'On Reproofe', which was
noticed in the volume's subtitle:' V/ith a new Satyre in defence of the Common Law, and Lawyers:
Mixt with reproofe against their Enemy Ignoramus'.
117
118
I
i
!
REED Cambridge, vol. II, pp. 862-3. Also printed in McGee's 'Stuart Kings and Cambridge
University Drama', pp. 494-6), where the King's words are transcribed as 'Goe on Goe on, I will
heare you out'.
119
McGee, 'Stuart Kings and Cambridge University Drama', p. 496. A similar device was used at
the conclusion of the film Shakespeare in Love (1998).
133
132
performance. In this case, as McGee says, it was a blatant attempt by the students to
enlist the king's support against.tlie lawyers.
Outside the actual play's performance space, however, the attitude of these
scholars towards their Inns-of-Court counterparts, and vice versa, was ambivalent.
They take pains to present themselves as reasonable, if not impartial, judges of both
institutions' relative merits, and seem reluctant to establish solid institutional
boundaries. The number of students who attended or were otherwise connected with
both the university and the Inns makes identification of the demarcation line
problematic for the authors of satiric texts. The difference in tone between the poetic
responses and the original play suggests that the production of Ignoramus was
deliberately and self-consciously partisan in its attack on common lawyers. I would
argue that it was as much the atypical nature of this deliberate provocation, as the
substance of the attack, which stirred the lawyers' anger. The fact that this was a
production created specifically for the king's pleasure gave the lawyers additional
reason for complaint. They were aware that the king's presence re-situated what
would have been a local struggle for legitimation between two institutions, into the
wider field of political contention.
Reprise: Lampoons on the Parliamentaiy Visitors at Oxford, 1648
In the decades following these events the universities, and indeed the whole country,
found themselves drawn into the field of political contention, willingly or not. For
Oxford, royalist headquarters until the city's surrender in June 1646, the civil war
was particularly disruptive.120 With the king residing at Christ Church and soldiers
garrisoned at other colleges, scholarship was neglected for the arts of war. The end
of the war brought disruption of another kind. In May 1647 parliament appointed
visitors who were empowered to discover, under oath, 'those who had assisted the
king in amis, had not subscribed to the solemn league and covenant and the negative
oath, and who had not accepted the new directory of worship'.121
The Oxford dons did not submit tamely to such a proceeding. When finally
made to appear before the visitors (various stalling techniques and prevarications
were used), the majority of Fellows refused to recognise their authority, and faced
expulsion.122 At the same time, subversive and satirical propaganda presented the
university's side of the case to anyone who cared to listen. Wood records an 'Order .
120
For the history of Oxford during the 1640s see Ian Roy and Dietrich Reinhart, 'Oxford and the
Civil W a r s ' in Histoiy of Oxford, Vol. IV, pp. 687-731.
121
Ibid., p. 7 2 3 . The events of the parliamentary visitation were recorded in detail by Wood,
including an account of the chief visitors' characters (History, vol. II, pp. 501 ff, esp. pp. 614-18).
122
Ibid., p p . 728-9. Roy and Reinhart point out, though, that many of those ordered to leave
actually remained in their posts (p. 728).
. . sent to the Printers and Stationers of the University not to print, publish, sell,
deliver or disperse any unlicenced, libellous, infamous, scurrilous, or abusive
Pamphlets, which do defame the name or persons of any. For a little before and at
this time were many that came out, wherein the Chancellor, Visitors, and others,
were jeered and abused in a very high manner'.123 Wood listed ten such "pamphlets',
and added 'Others also there were, making the Visitors and their party very
ridiculous, but these I have not seen' (p. 581).124 Of the printed pamphlets, several
imitate prose newsletters, giving an account of the behaviour of the visitors at
Oxford, including their questioning of Fellows and heads of houses, the responses
given them, and their subsequent actions in ejecting recalcitrants.
Though
passionate and in some cases defamatory, these 'news' texts emphasised the actions
of the visitors and the Oxonians, painting the former as ignorant interlopers and the
latter as righteous and wily resisters of tyranny. Two are in Latin, one of which
enjoyed lasting popularity and was reprinted with English translation into the midnineteenth century.126
Other writers concentrated more squarely on the characters of the visitors.
Thomas Winnard or Winyard seems to have had the most violent grudge against
Francis Cheynell et a!., contributing An Owle at Athens: or, A True Relation of the
Enterance of the Earle of Pembroke into Oxford, April xi. 1648 and MidsummerMoone. or Lunacy-Rampant being a Character of Master Cheynell, the Arch Visitor
of Oxford, and Mungrell President of Saint John Baptist's CoUedge. With a Survey of
the three Renegado-fellowes Web, Inkersell and Lownds in print, as well as 'Cheynel
Cheyneliz'd', which seems to have circulated scribally.127 Of these, An Owle at
Athens and 'Cheynel Cheyneliz'd' are verse attacks on the Earl of Pembroke and
113
History, vol. II, p. 579.
As well as the ten noticed by Wood, Madan lists a satire with mock-epitaph on Oxford
Chancellor Philip Herbert, Earl of Pembroke (Oxford Books, no. 1996). Another example extant
in manuscript is 'Cheynel Cheyneliz'd: or, A visitor visited; An excellent ditty / Pleasant and witty
/ To the Tune of The Mad Man's Morrice1, attributed to T[homas] Winnard, author of two of the
printed satires listed by Wood and Madan (Bodleian Library MS Eng. poet, e 4, pp. 146-9; Society
of Antiquaries of London MS 330, ff. 14r-15v).
125
These include Thomas Swadlin's Mercurius Academicus: Communicating the Intelligence and
Affairs of Oxford to the rest of the Passive Party thorowout the Kingdom ([London?], 1648);
Thomas Barlow and Thomas Pierce's Pegasus, or the Flying Horse from Oxford. Bringing the
Proceedings of the Visitours and other Bedlamites there, by Command of the Earle of Mongomeiy
([London], 1648); and Thomas Pierce's A Third and Fourth Part of Pegasus: Taught by Bankes
his Ghost to dance in the Dorick Moode, To the Tune of Lachiymce. In h\>o Letters from Oxford,
July I. I64S ([London], 1648).
126
This w a s John Allibond's ballad Rustica Academiae Oxoniensis nuper Reformatae Descriptio
(n.p., [1648]). The second edition was printed as a folio broadside (for details of this end later
editions, see Madan, no. 1994). Adam Littleton's Tragi-Comcedia Oxoniensis ([Oxford], [1648]) is
written in Latin verse.
127
Madan records An Owle at Athens and Midsummer-Moone as both printed at London, though
only the date of printing (1648) is given in either case (Oxford Books, nos. 1987 and 1998).
124
134
135
i •
Francis Cheynell respectively (though others of the godly party are also lampooned).
Cheynell is also the subject of Midsummer-Moone, an extraordinary prose attack
closer in spirit to flyting, or Archilochean curse, than satire. Winnard anatomises his
target, using wildly exaggerated allusions and metaphors to create a monstrous
A similar joke is made on the reformers in the Latin ballad attributed to John
Allibond, Rustica Academiae Oxoniensis nuper Reformatae Descriptio. The
eleventh and twelfth stanzas (of fifty-one in total) ran:
Conscendo orbis Mud Decus
Bodleio fundatore,
Sed intus nullum erat pecus
Excepto Janiiore.
picture of a grotesque giant.
His red Nose is pearch't like a Beacon flaming on a mountain; Nature when she forged
it forgot to quench i t . . . The Scarlet-whore of Babylon spawn'd it with her menstruous
profluviums. 'Twas painted with the blood of a witch when shee morgag'd her selfe.
The single sight of it made Sedgewick dream of doomes-day and the second destruction
of the world by fire . . .
The spirits which ascend from so hot a Limbeck have converted his braines to Sulphur,
and made him nothing but an unruly Squib; Hee's as prodigiously furious, as if he had
been bolted out oth' Monks pot when he invented gunpowder, or his mother limed by
the Devill shot from a Canon. He was begot ith' Dog-dayes, or at Michaelmas when his
Dam went to R u t . . . You may take him for a Spanish-Jennet, begot by a whirlewind or
a tempest raised by a Conjurer, or all /Eolus bag'd up and sold by a Laplander for
shipwracks128
Neglectos vidi iibros multos,
Quod minime mirandum,
Nam Bardos inter tot & stultos,
There's few could understandum.131
This is not the on<y lamentable change to have come over Oxford in its state of
reformation lAb his qui dicti PURl' (1. 4). The intruded office-bearers include
Procuratores sine clavibus,
Quae-rentibus ostendas,
Bedellos novos sine Stavibus,
Resprotinus ridendas!l32
The description, like those that follow, is striking in its use of commonplaces and
rustic sayings. William Sedgwick, a puritan divine of Cambridgeshire, had
prematurely announced the day of judgement in the early 1640s.12' Lapland witches
were famed for their power over the winds, the whore of Babylon a familiar icon of
evil. This descent into the demotic speech is uncommon for a university satirist, and
can presumably be attributed to the wider audience desired for the printed text, as
opposed to the more select fraternity of eruditi or university men targeted by
scribally circulated satires. Not only is Cheynell's appearance satirised, but his
actions at the university in general and St. John's College in particular, where he was
the intruded president. The main question, as with the more serious attacks on the
visitors, is their fitness to judge the university men. The newsletters emphasise the
illegality of the visitation, and proudly repeat the prevarications and outright denials
of the visitors' authority made by embattled dor>3 end heads of houses. Winnard
concentrates on the visitors' incompetence, in both a moral and academic sence, to
reform the university. He asks 'how should Cheynell be a veformer, unlesse as an
Atheist makes a Pope pious?' (p. 4). Of Cheynell's toadies at St. John's, Web,
Inkersell and i ownds, Winnard claims:
This refers to the situation, gleefully reported in Pegasus, or the Flying Horse, in
which the proctors and bedels had refused to give up their keys and staves of office,
and the vice-chancellor the university seals and statutes.133 Without these potent
symbols of authority, the Visitors' new appointees seemed even less like the real
thing. Their perfomiances are grotesque caricatures of the university's ceremonial
forms. The first part of Pegasus describes the calling of the first convocation by the
Vistors:
a fellow they call Beedle . . . came into our Colledge, with his hands in his pockets
(staffs hee had none) in the middle of the Quadrangle, pulls out a paper, puts on his
spectacles, and read the forme in Latine, though 'tis certaine hee understands noe good
English (Langley was the man, a Taylor) and instead ofper /idem, per/idem, per/idem;
call'd it provided; provided, provided.™4
At the convocation itself the writer complains 'The most that was spoken there was
English, and all that was done was irregular capa pe; no Statute observed, or
regarded' (p. 3).
The attacks made on the parliamentary visitors in these satires demonstrate
their nature as aliens at Oxford, in terms of their appearance, religious persuasion,
standard of learning, and understanding of the university's workings. They
constitute a vigorous defence of the university in both its long-established (and
Moths 2nd Wormes are acquainted with more Authors, and Parrots are better linguists.
Latin's not the language of these Beasts, nor have they any thing of Greece, but
drunkennesse and lying. Hebrew to them is Welch, they reele sufficiently of themselves,
they need not study to go backward.130
131
Seconded., 11.41-8.
11. 65-8. Madan transcribes "Res' in the final line of this stanza as 'Rex' {Oxford Books,
no. 1994).
133
Pegasus, pp. 2-3; Wood, History, vol. II, pp. 525, 567; Roy and Reinhart, 'Oxford and the Civil
Wars', p. 725.
134
Pegasus, p. 3.
132
128
Midsummer-Moone, pp. 1-2,
DNB.
130
Midsummer-Moone, p. 5. Cheyneil had appointed Francis Webb vice-president cf Si. John's.
129
i
1
136
finnly royalist) traditions, and in the persons of its powerful office-bearers and
college heads.135 They are also a lament at the displacement of traditions and dons without which, it seems, the university is no longer truly Oxford.136 The bitterness of
tone which characterises the printed works distinguishes them from attacks made on
courtiers, Cambridge and Inns-of-Court men, and even the townspeople. A sense of
anger and loss drives these satires: their mockery is vicious, and quite unlike the
lively sparring of earlier clashes between institutions.
137
5. Disorderly disputants: the terrae filius, praevaricator and tripos
Conclusion
This discussion has demonstrated some of the ways in which ephemeral and
occasional satirical productions could shape relations between early-modem cultural
institutions. The wide dissemination of these texts, apparent from scattered
references made to them by men not directly involved in their production or
consumption, reflects their function. To assert their own formulations of particular
institutional identities and relative positions in the cultural field, authors needed to
reach as large an audience as possible. The satirical impetus took many different
forms, from ballads accompanying specific tunes, to sustained or epigrammatic
manuscript verses, to theatrical displays, to printed responses.
hi this respect, as in others, they have little resemblance to formal verse
satires. They share the popular verse libel's function in spreading a subversive kind
of news about their targets' activities, which can be seen as a satirical alternative to
official accounts of the same occasions. In the following chapter, we will see how
members of the universities used similar strategies to invent a satirical alternative to
their university's official self-image. In both cases, satire is used to describe
particular communities, and inscribe certain characteristics on those who belonged to
them.
To begin then with as little Method as my Predecessors. I'll first acquaint you, what a
Terra filius is; why, he's the University Jester, — the Terrour of fudling Doctors, and
fornicating Commoners, a Serviter in Scandal. — and Harliquin of the Sciences. He has
the Modesty of— an Informer, the Manners of— a Dutch Trooper, the Learning of —
a Mountebank, and the Wit — of a Projector, who obliges the Publick, and perfects his
own Ruin, — his continual Railing at the University looks as if he were — married to
her, and his Expulsion proves he's — Divorc'd from her. '
The histories of the various university jester-figures, which include the terrae filius at
Oxford, the praevaricator (or 'varier') and tripos at Cambridge, and the tripos at
Trinity College, Dublin, are difficult to trace with much certainty. It is probable that
humorous orations - parodic sermons and lectures, performances inducting students
into colleges, and so on - had been given throughout the history of the British
universities, since similar traditions existed in continental European universities and
religious houses during the Middle Ages. Until the Reformation, boys dressed as
bishops officiated in various capacities (including preaching sermons and conducting
masses) at religious services held during December in English cathedrals, abbeys,
schools and colleges.2 Ronald Hutton writes that the three surviving sermons
preached by Boy-Bishops are 'all clearly written by adults but with a great deal of
dry humour at the expense of authority'.3 Christmas Princes and Lords of Misrule
presided over Christmas festivities in corporations, noble households, university
135
And their wives - see the story of 'gallant' Mrs. Fell, wife of Dean Samuel Fell of Christ
Church, who had to be carried out of her lodgings in a chair because she would not make way for
the parliamentary interloper (Barlow and Pierce, Pegasus, p. 3; Swadlin, Mercurius Academicus,
pp. 2, 5).
136
As well as Allibond's exaggerated picture of dereliction, other satires make this point by
claiming to have been 'Printed, at Mongomery' (Barlow and Pierce, Pegasus; Sir John Birkenhead,
A'ewes from Pembroke & Mongomay or Oxford Manchester 'd ([London], 1648)), or 'Printed at
Pembrook and Mongomery' {Lord have Mercy upon us, or the Visitation at Oxford ([London],
1648)). Philip Herbert, Earl of Pembroke and Montgomery, was the new Chancellor of the
university.
1
Baker, An Act at Oxford, V. i.
E. K. Chambers links Boy Bishops with the Feast of Fools, a camivalesque celebration during which
members of the lower clergy chose their own mock-officials. The Boy Bishop was much more
popular and enduring in England than the Feast of Fools, for which there is very little evidence despite
its popularity in France and elsewhere on the continent (see Chambers, The Mediaeval Stage, 2 vols.
(London, 1903), vol. 1, pp. 274-335 for the Feast of Foois, and pp. 336-71 for Boy Bishops).
3
Ronald Hutton, The Rise and Fall of Mem' England: the Ritual Year 1400-1700 (Oxford 1994)
p. 11.
138
colleges, Inns of Court and the Royal Court, lasting well into the early-modern
period. The Christmas Prince was the central figure in lavish entertainments at St.
John's College, Oxford, in 1607, and the Temple inns in 1636.4 Hutton suggests that
the Lord of Misrule's English ancestry can be traced to the universities in the
fifteenth century, possibly a 'self-conscious Renaissance classicism' imitating
ancient Roman mock-rulers mentioned by Tacitus and Lucian.5 For a limited period
of time, these figures replaced the authority figures whose offices they subverted,
becoming their caniivalesque opposite and performing parodic versions of their
everyday counterparts' functions.6
The terrae filius, praevaricator and tripos are first mentioned in the late
sixteenth century, and it seems likely that they share some kind of relationship with
the carnival figures mentioned above. The praevaricators and terrae filii were
nominally participants in the disputations between incepting masters at university
graduation ceremonies. The tripos performed a similar task at Cambridge and
Trinity College, Dublin, during the bachelors' disputations. Normally the speaker
would have been required to give a formal speech on the question to be disputed.
However, these particular figures were licensed to introduce a certain amount of
levity into the proceedings. The fact that their jokes were aimed largely at members
of the academic institutions that nourished them suggests that they were drawing on
older traditions of institutional self-parody.7 However, they went further than their
predecessors, crossing the nebulous boundary from the burlesque, camivalesque
mode of earlier parodic genres into satire proper. The terrae filius regularly ridiculed
the actions and characters of prominent Oxford university men. The Trinity College
tripos seems to have given Dubliners similar treatment.
At Cambridge the
praevaricator and tripos were less specific but participated enthusiastically in interuniversity rivalries and repeated local jokes.
4
See 'An account of The Christmas Prince as it was exhibited in the University of Oxford, in the year
1607' in Miscellanea Antiqua Anglicana; or, a Select Collection of Curious Tracts (London, 1816);
William Davenant, The Triumphs of the Prince d'Amour (London, 1635), Benjamin Rudyerd, Le
Prince D'Amour; or the Prince of Love (London, 1660). The Inns of Court had a far stronger tradition
of Christmas Princes and Lords of Misrule than the universities, often staging sumptuous
entertainments and masques during the Christmas period (see Richardson, History of the Inns of
Court, pp. 211-44).
5
Hutton, Rise and Fall, pp. 60-61. Hutton also mentions 'Prester John' and 'King Balthasar', other
figures of the same type, who presided over fifteenth-century Christmas festivities at Oxford.
6
For a useful discussion of carnival culture see Michael D. Bristol, Carnival and Theater: Plebeian
Culture and the Structure of Authority in Renaissance England (New York and London, 1985),
especially chapter two, 'The Social Function of Festivity' (pp. 26-39).
7
See Bayless, Parody in the Middle Ages; Blanchard, Scholars' Bedlam, pp. 52-66; Bakhtin, Rabelais
and his World, pp. 13-14, et passim.
8
For the tradition at Trinity College, Dublin, see George Mayhew, 'Swift and the Tripos Tradition',
Philological Quarterly vol. 45 (1966), pp. 85-101; and John Barrett, An Essay on the Earlier Part of
the Life of Swift (London, 1808), pp. 19ff.
139
Academic mock-disputants combined carnival attributes with those of a more
primitive, archetypal figure, that of the trickster or fool. D. J. Gifford has found that
in representations of fools in fourteenth- and fifteenth-century psalters, the fool is
often found disputing with an authority figure - a king, a monk, or even God. In the
latter two instances, the fool is dressed as a devil.9 Gifford associates the fool in this
guise with the ancient figure of the trickster, who 'undergoes ritual cursing', or, in
other words, acts as a scapegoat.10 Enid Welsford writes that fools were able to
'ward off the Evil Eye from the priests who were performing important ritual acts by
parodying their rites and ridiculing their sacred persons'.11 Obviously, in this
respect, the ancestors of Renaissance mock-lords, princes and bishops had a vital
ritual function in ensuring the community's health. Following Welsford, Robert C.
Elliot*, likens the fool's part to that of the railer, whose invective drives away evil,
and who is therefore kept near kings in various cultures.12 However, Elliott finds
that the railer (as a kind of psychic lightning-rod to whom evil is attracted) must
sometimes be made into a scapegoat and punished, even exiled, so that the evil
which would otherwise have come upon the group is banished with him.
It is interesting to note the points of similarity between burlesque disputants
and other ritual characters. Like the medieval fool, they engaged in disputation; like
the Boy Bishops, they parodied ceremonial fonns; like the railer, they were licensed
to disrupt important ritual occasions, ridiculing the officials in attendance; and, like
the railer or trickster, they were often punished or expelled from the community.
However, there are some key differences between carnival figures and parodic
disputants. Bakhtin stresses the point that true carnival involves everyone as
participants - no-one stands outside the 'second world' of carnival, as a satirist does
when he mocks his opponents.13 The university figures were satirists in this respect
- there is little to suggest they mocked themselves along with their victims. Again,
Bakhtin's concept of carnival includes the 'suspension of all hierarchical
precedence', but this did not occur at the university commencements.14 As Kristine
Haugen points out, there was no sense in which the parodic disputants claimed to be
taking the place of university officials, as other carnival mock-rulers did.15
Parodying disputation speeches was not quite as sacrilegious or subversive as
9
D. J. Gifford, 'Iconographical Notes towards a Definition of the Medieval Fool' in The Fool and the
Trickster: Studies in Honour of Enid Welsford ed. Paul V. A. Williams (Cambridge, 1979), pp. 18-20,
31. For the fool's association with satire in the seventeenth century see Sandra Billington, A Social
Histoiy of the Fool (Brighton, Sussex, 1984), pp. 62-65.
10
Gifford, 'Iconographical Notes', pp. 31-2.
1
' Enid Welsford, The Fool: his Social and Literary Histoiy (London, 1968), p. 74.
12
Elliott, Power of Satire, pp. 134-5.
13
Bakhtin, Rabelais and his World, pp. 7, 12.
"Ibid., p. 10.
15
Haugen, 'Imagined Universities', p. 13.
141
140
Rather than challenging or replicating a pre-existing ideal form of the university . . . the
terrae filius actively worked to construct Oxford's institutional identity - to construct
the putatively normal structure of things. He did this by characterizing the dons' actual
behaviour as a farrago of deviations from what the Jilius claimed was normal or
expected behaviour. In effect, lie pointed to the Oxford it was possible to observe in
everyday life, then argued that this was not in fact the real Oxford. In portraying the
dons as transgressors of the social law, the Jilius had to imagine or create that law,
usually as the precise negation or reversal of the donnish habits he reported. The jilius's
insults thus produced an imaginary Oxford which was at once normative for real
behaviour and, by definition, never in harmony with real behaviour.20
parodying the Mass or creating a mock royal court: as Feingold and others have
pointed out, even ordinary disputations were not always completely serious.16 So the
similarities between the various camivalesque figures are most useful as a suggestion
of the parodic disputant's possible origins in folk tradition, rather than as an
explanation of his seventeenth-century function.17
Several functions can plausibly be posited for the seventeenth-century
parodic disputant, most of which coexist happily with each other. On a basic level,
and in his least satirical guise, he introduced humour into the commencement
proceedings, in a way that celebrated the feeling of community shared by members
of the university. This type of humour occurs periodically in many contemporary
institutions: large companies, high schools, university colleges, sporting clubs,
business associations, and even families, hold functions where members or the
institutions themselves are simultaneously mocked and affirmed.18 As well as
making the formalities of ritual occasions more palatable, humour binds the members
of the community closer together. Attacks that are more satirical, usually made on
prominent or powerful members, can release tensions which inevitably arise when
people are in close contact with each other for long periods of time.1
As we have seen, satire is usually regarded as having a socially corrective
function. The speeches made by parodic disputants certainly attack deviations from
socially acceptable behaviour. However, these attacks do not conform to the usual
pattern, in which an attempt was made to set victims outside the boundaries of a
particular community. Instead, they concentrate on powerful university officials,
men who might usually be regarded as representatives, or symbols, of the university.
It is difficult to imagine how they themselves might be excluded from the
community: a more likely explanation is that it was their behaviour, the supposedly
unsanctioned acts for which they are attacked, that was meant to be excluded.
Kristine Haugen has suggested that the attacks of the terrae filii were tolerated
at Oxford until the end of the seventeenth century because, despite appearances, they
actually worked to create a positive image for the university. Haugen argues they
depicted an 'ideal' university by pointing to examples of behaviour which somehow
fell outside the boundaries of this imaginary institution.
16
Feingold, 'Humanities', pp. 302-3.
I suspect that university commencement ceremonies are examples of what Victor Turner would
classify as 'liminoid' occasions: they retain some attributes of older carnival or 'liminaF festivities,
but these attributes are usually self-consciously mimetic (Turner, 'Variations on a Theme of
Liminality' in Secular Ritual, ed. Sally F. Moore and Barbara G. Myerhoff (Amsterdam, 1977),
pp. 36-52).
As we have seen, the college salting used this type of humour to initiate new members into the
community.
19
Bristol usefully summarises some key sociological theories of carnival as catharsis in Carnival and
Theater, pp. 28 ff.
17
Thus, attacks on the dons were paradoxically designed to reinforce Oxford's good
character, rather than undermine it. However, Haugf,n also points out that this 'ideal'
university only ever existed as the opposite of whatever donnish behaviour the terrae
filius chose to castigate. Since this varied from year to year, 'the imaginary
university was just the negation of whatever misconduct happened to be available for
ridicule at a given time'. The 'fragmentary and ad hoc nature of the filius's actual
imaginings' meant that the 'ideal university only ever existed as far as was necessary
for explaining the dons' actual conduct as transgressive and abnormal'.21
Haugen's model is persuasive, up to a point. The speeches of parodic
disputants certainly constructed a particular image of the university. By attacking the
dons' conduct, the terrae filius suggested the correct behaviour expected from
members of Oxford. However, I would argue that Haugen's 'ideal' university is an
unnecessary (and unlikely) construction, for several reasons. First, it assumes that
the terrae filii expected their audiences to believe that the attacks they made on the
dons reflected the true state of affairs at Oxford - otherwise there would be no need
for the ideal alternative. This was not the case: some of the jokes are obviously
burlesque exaggerations of events, and some are complete fabrications.72 As I will
argue below, there was no way for outsiders (or even uninformed insiders) to tell the
difference between truth and fiction. Second, Haugen does not make clear who were
the intended beneficiaries of the terrae filius's vision of the 'ideal' Oxford. If the
speeches are actually a perverse kind of panegyric, they could hardly be intended for
an audience of university men, who would have been privy to the same inside
knowledge as the terrae filius. If intended to enhance the university in the eyes of
visitors to Oxford by demonstrating the startling ways in which current members did
not live up to the ideal, they - and their speakers - would need to have been heard by
extremely perceptive visitors. It seems more likely that outsiders were simply
20
Haugen, 'Imagined Universities1, pp. 4-5.
21
Ibid., pp. 8-9.
Evelyn called one of the terrae-filius speeches he heard in 1669 'licentious lying, & railing' (Diary
vol. Ill, p. 532).
143
142
confused by the allegations of misconduct presented to them in such a lively and
amusing manner. Finally, Haugen argues from the position that Oxford authorities
would only have tolerated the terrae filius's satire if it had been somehow beneficial
to the university. This seems unnecessary, and somewhat ahistorical, considering the
number of contemporary complaints about terrae filii, and regular efforts to do away
with the speech.23 Enshrined in Laud's statutes, the office was a required part of the
Act proceedings - and seemingly, there was enough support for it in convocation to
make it impossible for the statutes to be changed. The forces of inertia at work in
Oxford society may have had some part in preserving the terrae filius, as they have in
preserving other strange rituals which have continued to the present.24
Instead of constructing ideal communities, I would argue that the speeches of
parodic disputants played a part in describing the universities' actual identities. If
specific jokes made by terrae filii are examined more closely, it can be seen that they
form more than just a litany of donnish ideosyncracies. Many of them touch upon
points of tension within the university society, such as the abuse of power within
colleges. They also dwell on the nature of relationships within the university,
providing a script for community members' interaction with each other and the
outside world. The preoccupation with eminent dons and heads of houses shows
who controls the university, and demonstrates the power structures at work in the
community (as well as briefly defying those power structures). As Haugen argues,
the concentration on aberrant behaviour demonstrates the actual behaviour expected
and required from members of the community. Readers of seventeenth-century
satire would recognise that both these functions are also at work in town and court
lampoons, and, to a cert-in extent, local libels and ballads.25 There was also a strong
sense; at least for the more subversive listeners, that the speeches were a genuine ?nd
effective form of vigilante justice working where the official regulatory mechanisms
of the institution could not or would not reach. Nicholas Amhurst's description is
illustrative:
If a venerable Head of a college was caught snug a-bed with his neighbour's wife; or
shaking his elbows on a Sunday morning; or flattering a prime minister for a bishoprick;
or coaxing his bed-maker's girl out of her maidenhead; the hoary old sinner might
II
expect to hear of it from our lay-pulpit the next Act.26
Though most official responses characterise his accusations as malicious lies, on at
least one occasion the advice given by the terrae filius seems to have wrought a
change in the behaviour of his target.
The ways in which rituals and performances act within communities as a form
of social control, or as a way of defining a group identity and separating it from other
groups, have been discussed by many anthropologists and sociologists.28 Clifford
Geertz, in his study of the interactions of Balinese men at cockfighting matches,
concludes that though much social status (and money) seems to be invested in the
manoeuvring that takes place between combatants and spectators, the occasion is
actually a ritual which demonstrates the cultural restraints normally observed in
Balinese society without actually changing anything.29 Anthony Cohen sums up
Geertz's findings:
This fantastic reversal is a kind of speculative and harmless experiment in social change
which does not actually cause change nor weaken the social order. It has the effect of
highlighting precisely those mechanisms which do trammel behaviour, which do
constrain people, which do organize them in their customary ways. It is, theref^e, a
symbolic exposition of the distinctive characteristics and qualities of Balinese social
organisation and culture, a textual lesson in what it means to be Balinese.30
Though a cockfight held in a Balinese village might seem as distant culturally from
an Oxbridge graduation ceremony as it is geographically, nevertheless, this
paragraph describes the latter almost as well as the former.31 As I hope to
26
23
In 1658 a motion to outlaw the terrae filii was put to Convocation, but was defeated (Wood, Life
and Times, vol. I, p. 258). The previous year John Harmar had made an oration against the terrae filius
and other disturbers of the peace (Oratio Steliteutica (London, 1658)).
24
One example of the tenacity with which Oxford customs are kept is the feast of 'the All Souls
mallard', which was celebrated most recently on January 14th, 2001 (The Daily Telegraph, Jan. 15 th
2001, p. 4). Bishop Heber, who was kept awake in January 1801 by 'the Lord Mallard and about
forty fellows in a kind of procession on the library roof, with immense lighted torches', believed that
at Oxford 'these remnants of Gothicism tend very much to keep us in a sound consistent track; and
that one cause of the declension of the foreign universities was their compliance in such points as
these with the variation of manners' {Life of Heber, by his Widow, p. 25; repr. in Burrows, Worthies of
All Souls, p. 435.).
25
Harold Love's discussion of town lampoons makes several interesting points about the social
function of satires in a particular community. He argues that, as well as performing a regulatory
function, they provided a script for new patterns of behaviour required for the relatively new
phenomenon of'town. HJV in. the Restoration (English Clandestine Satire 1660-1714 (Cambridge
University Press, forthcoming;;.
Amhurst, Terrae-filius; or, the Secret History of the University of Oxford; in several essays
(London, 1726), no. 1, p. 1. Amhurst, engaged in an attack on the university, had a vested interest in
claiming the terraefilial attacks reflected reality. However, the responses of outsiders and those who
occupied a lower place in the institutional hierarchy were similar. Thomas Baker's description of the
terrae filius (quoted above) emphasises this aspect.
27
In 1657 Daniel Danvers asked his audience what religion they supposed Dr. George Marshall,
Warden of New College, to be, because no-one ever saw him at church. Wood remarks that Marshall
'ever after that was a constant follower' (Life and Times, vol. I, p. 221).
28
See, in particular, Victor Turner on ritual and performance (cited above, p. xv, n. 27).
29
Geertz, 'Deep Play', pp. 443-53.
30
Cohen, Symbolic Construction of Community, p. 68.
31
Actually, there are several significant similarities: both are masculine occasions (in which men
define their masculinity by participating); both are ritualistic, inverting the usual order; both can be
seen (as Geertz sees the cockfight) in terms of Bentham's concept of 'deep play' - the high
economic/status stakes wagered by the Balinese minor the high academic/status stakes risked by
scholars acting as terrae filii or praevaricators; both are dominated by the socially high-ranking men of
the community; and both arise within a complicated network of social alliances and status rivalries
(Geertz, 'Deep Play', passim).
144
•
demonstrate in the following discussion, parodic disputants concentrate on the
university structures which 'trammel behaviour', 'constrain people', and 'organize
them in their customary ways'. Paradoxically, they do this by pointing out behaviour
that might be considered to be untrammelled, unconstrained and disorganized; and
they do it not to overturn the controlling mechanisms, but to reinforce them for the
edification of the community.
The terrae filius at Oxford
Thomas Baker, in An Act at Oxford, described the terrae filius as 'the University
Jester': for many of the dons, his jokes were no laughing matter. For visitors and the
younger (or more obscure) scholars, however, he was undoubtedly the highlight of
the Act. The terrae filii were members of the university who had recently taken their
master's degree, usually (but not exclusively) in arts.32 The university proctors chose
two men as terrae filii, one to speak on the Saturday, and the other on the Monday of
the Act weekend. It is not known what the grounds for their choices were, but it
seems that the appointment was highly desirable, and potentially controversial. In
his memoirs Richard Brathwaite recalls being chosen 'by universall Voice and vote\
and refers to the office as evidence of 'the extraordinary favour wh>h the Universitie
pleased to grace me withall'.33 It seems that the role was looked u, on as a reward
for, and advertisement of, academic excellence. Its prominence at the Act meant that
the students who performed were guaranteed a degree of notoriety within and outside
the university. There seems to be a consensus among seventeenth-century
commentators and later historians that the earlier speeches contained fewer personal
attacks, and were more humorous than satirical. John Ayliffe wrote
the Business of this Terrae-Filius is a solemn and grave Disputation... . this manner of
\
145
*
for his efforts in 1591/2.36 Obviously, the speech was always a situation ripe for
satire, and it was merely the whim of the speaker which directed the tone.
If Ayliffe and others were correct in supposing the terrae filius to have sprung
into being during the Reformation for the purpose of exposing religious superstitions,
the figure could be regarded as having a serious didactic purpose underlying his witty
commentary. If this was so, the presence of the terrae filius in the university statutes
codified under the auspices of Archbishop Laud in 1636 is less surprising.37 That a
Master of Arts was entrusted with this duty is another indication that the position had
not always been such an extremely frivolous one. Brathwait, in the autobiographical
section of his A Spiritual Spicerie (1638), recalls:
by universall Voice and vote, I was put upon a Task, whose Style I have, and shall ever
retaine, the Soime of Earth; Terra Filius.
From the performance of which exercise,
whether it were the extraordinary favour which the Universitie pleased to grace mee
withall, or that shee found some tokens in mee of such future proficience as might
answer the hopes of so tender a Mother, I know not; but, sure I am, I received no small
encouragement both in my studies and free tender of ample preferment. . . . this
extraordinary grace begot in mee a selfe-conceit of my own worth: ever thinking, that if
this had not preceeded from some more deserving parts in mee: that rich Seminary of all
Learning would not have showne so gracefull a Countenance towards mee.38
Brathwait's conception of the terrae filius' role as a. mark of 'extraordinary favour'
from the university is another indication of the figure's early importance. His claim
that he has, 'and shall ever retaine', the terraefilial style is also enlightening, written
as it is in the course of a Christian apologetic for what he tended to characterise as a
misspent life. One might suppose that he would be quicker to lament his own part in
a production which was in any way scurrilous or libellous.39
As participants in the Act disputations, the two terrae filii were required to
speak on a particular question, usually a problem in Aristotelian philosophy. In his
sportive Wit had its first Original at the Time of the Reformation, when the gross
Absurdities and Superstitions of the Roman Church were to be exposed, and should
34
have been restrain'd to Things, and not have reach'd Mens Persons and Characters'.
John Evelyn lamented in 1669 that the terrae filii had 'left the facetious old way of
raiHying upon the Questions: &c & fell wholy upon persons'.35 Their assessment of
the benign origins of the terrae filius accords with the earliest surviving speech, but
not with the fate of the earliest incumbent identified, John Hoskyns: he was expelled
32
Wood notes that Thomas Hayes, one of the terrae filii in 1669, was an inceptor in medicine (Life
and Times, vol. II, p. 564).
33
Brathwaite, A Spiritual Spicerie (London, 1638), p. 424.
34
Ayliffe, The Antient and Present State of the University of Oxford, 2 vols. (London, 1714), vol. II,
p . 134.
35
Evelyn, Diary, vol. Ill, p. 532.
36
Wood, Athenae Oxon., vol. 1, col. 614; Hoskins, Directions for Speech and Style ed. Hoyt H.
Hudson (Princeton, 1935), p. x. The earliest surviving speech is that of Thomas Tomkins, from 1607
(British Library Add. MS 22915, ff. 37 r -390.
'Tirulus 7.4: Opponant, primo Procurator Senior in ominibus Quaestionibus, qui etiam in prima
argumentum confirmet; deinde Pro-procurator et Terrae-filius in secunda. . .'; and 'Tirulus 7.13:
Deinde post ilium opponere perget idem Procurator Senior; cui succedet Terrae-filius; quern Proprocurator excipiet' (Statutes of the University of Oxford. Codified in the Year 1636 under the
authority of Archbishop Laud, Chancellor of the University ed. John Griffiths (Oxford, 1888); quoted
in Bromley Smith and Douglas Ehninger, T h e Terrafilial Disputations at Oxford', Quarterly Journal
of Speech vol. 36 (1950), p. 333n.
3
Brathwait, Spiritual Spicerie, pp. 424-5. Brathwait had been at Oriel college between 1603/4 and
c. 1608 (Matthew Wilson Black, Richard Brathwait: an Account of his Life and Works (Philadelphia,
1928), p. 16).
Black suggests that Brathwait's best-known work, Barnabae Itinerariwn (discussed in chapter
three, above), may have been first written as part of his terrae-filius speech, and then reworked later
for publication (Richard Brathwait, pp. 107-8). This is an interesting idea, and the burlesque matter
and Latin of the 'journal!' seem appropriate for an early terraefilial offering. However, the absence of
any other evidence means no definite conclusion can be reached.
39
M
147
146
1607 speech (the earliest extant), Thomas Tomkins adhered fairly closely to the topic
under discussion, that there is a greater variety of beauties than of wits.40 The
Restoration terrae filii, though, paid only brief attention to the stated question - most
refer to it in a witty, mocking vein, some using it to give a loose structure to their
speech. Henry Gerard, who in 1669 was supposed to be arguing against the
proposition that all sensation is touch, began his speech by warning the doctors, their
wives, and the townsmen, that he was about to 'touch' them all.41 Similarly, Joseph
Brooks, in his answer to the question 'Wliether the itch for writing is the scabies of
the age', began with a declaration of his intention to 'scratch' the heads of houses.42
Brooks returned several times to the question during the course of his speech,
whereas Gerard abandoned the topic altogether after making his initial joke. John
Shirley answered the question 'Is the moon habitable?' with a speech describing the
inhabitants of a lunar university which bore a striking resemblance to Oxford.43 The
1703 speaker, Robert Roberts, made his position plain in the first sentence of his
speech, answering the question 'An omnes animae rationales sint aequales' with
'Anglice, Whether a Fool and a Physician be the same, (i.e.) whether a Doctor talks
like an Apothecary? But the case is plain, and so I have done with the Question'.44
In general, the post-Restoration terrae filius speeches seem to have been
regarded by most contemporaries as straightforwardly satirical performances,
designed to shame certain academics into changing their ways, or simply to air
humorous university episodes.45 However, a number of serious themes underly the
cheap jokes made at the dons' expense. As we have seen in other in university
satires, Oxford speakers are concerned with the relationship between their own and
neighbouring institutions such as the town, and Cambridge. Within the university,
they concentrate on the behaviour of individuals, usually prominent dons. As
Kristine Haugen has observed, they often point out instances of deviation from an
imaginary norm, in matters ranging from the mundane (such as the great height of
vice-chancellor John Fell) to the outrageous (such as accusations of sexual
perversion).46 Haugen sees these attacks as attempts to define the university by
40
'Maior est formarum quam ingeniorum varietas' (British Library MS Add. 22915, f. 37r).
'An Omnis Sensus sit Tactus? Caveant Doctores regentes et non regentes, ego enim omnes tangam
. ..' (Felicity Henderson, 'Putting the Dons in their Place: a Restoration Oxford Terrae Filius Speech'
in History of Universities, vol. 16 (2000), p. 4 preferred to hereafter as PDP))
42
'An Pruritus Scribendi sit huius ^aeculi Scabies?' . . . 'primo scalpam Acadfemiae] nostrae Capita'
(Bodleian Library MS Don. f. 29, ff. 76 V , 75 V ).
43
'An Luna sit habitabilis' (Bodleian Library MS Rawl. B. 403, f. lr).
44
Bodleian Library MS Tanner 338, f. 205 r .
45
See note 26 above, and Thomas Dixon's relation of an unfortunate incident concerning the 'Exeter
Boghouse', and other matters which he thought the terrae filius or others might use as material at Act
speeches (The Flemings in Oxford ed. John Richard Magrath, 3 vols. (Oxford, 1903-24), vol. I,
pp. 232-3,286-7, 291-2).
46
Haugen, 'Imagined Universities', p. 4.
41
articulating an ideal - the norm from which the dons are always deviating. However,
it is interesting to observe the precise nature of the attacks. They are often comments
on inter-personal relationships among the particular men mentioned, and on the
relationships between these men and their institution. The targets are often powerful
university officials, and thus the speeches demonstrate and comment on
contemporary power structures, and the nature of power at Oxford.
Terrae-filius speeches
Apart from Thomas Tomkins's 1607 speech, and the notes of a Cambridge man who
heard the terrae filius at Oxford circa 1615, only eight other seventeenth-century
terrae-filius speeches have survived. The surviving speeches were all delivered postRestoration: those of Joseph Brooks and John Edwards, both spoken in 1663, Henry
Gerard's from 1669, John Rotherham's from 1671, John Shirley's from 1673,
Balthazar Vigures's and John Crofts's, both from 1676, and John Aylworth's from
1693.47 There are also copies of speeches from 1703, 1713 and 1733. Apparently
the latter two were never delivered at Oxford, but instead found their way into print
in London.48 The Restoration-era speeches are all remarkably similar in style and
content, occasionally attacking exactly the same targets as previous speakers, and
repeating old jokes. Contemporaries suggested that some of the speeches were, as
Wood claims Joseph Brooks's was, 'composed by a club of pretended wits', which
may have contributed to their homogeneity.49 Whatever the cause, the speeches'
similarities reinforce the ritual nature of the occasion. Auditors knew exactly what
they could expect from the terrae filius in terms of shocking revelations and
humorous or bawdy anecdotes - indeed, they demanded them and were disappointed
if they were not forthcoming. The terrae filius himself was well aware of the weight
of expectation: as we have seen, Gerard and Brooks referred to their intentions
47
For manuscript and printed copies of the known terrae filius speeches, see Appendix. Falconer
Madan claimed that terrae filius speeches from 1615, 1648, 1654 and 1657 had been preserved, but
did not give any further information ('Thomas Tomkins, 1607', Bodleian Quarterly Record vol. 3,
(1921), p. 124). I have not been able to locate speeches from these years, and suspect he may have
been confusing other humorous speeches with terrae filius speeches. Similarly, Kiistine Haugen refers
to Martin Morland as a terrae filius, but no contemporary source records this ('Imagined Universities',
p. 27, n. 42; see Appendix for Moiiand's speeches).
48
For the 1703 speeches see Appendix. The 1713 speech was printed as The Speech that was intended
to have been spoken by the Term-Filius in the Theatre at O—d, July 13. 1713, had not his mouth
been stopped by the V. Ch
/• (London, 1713); for the 1733 speech see The Terra Filius's Speech,
as it was to have been spoken at the PublickAct, in the Theatre at Oxford (London, 1733).
49
Wood, Life and Times, vol. II, p. 563n. Thomas Baker's terrae filius makes a similar claim about the
origin of his own speech: 'the Speech is made by the Scandal Club, for, at Oxford there must be more
Heads than one, to write a sensible witty thing' (An Act at Oxford. IV.ii). Mayhew argues that this was
also the normal situation at Trinity College, Dublin ('Swift and the Tripos Tradition 1 , pp. 96-7). As
we shall see in the following chapter, the same was said about some of the music speeches.
148
I
149
'''8
regarding the dons at the outset. Other terrae filii deliberately placed themselves
within the tradition, naming themselves as terrae filius, or recalling other terrae filii
and their fates at the hands of university authorities.50 This may have been an
attempt to minimise potential retribution by convincing hearers that they were merely
acting according to the script when they abused their superiors, rather than from any
individual anarchic tendencies.51 However, the fact that the figure and name of the
terrae filius were so famous (or infamous) in the seventeenth century suggests that
the role, or persona, was more important than the man who filled it.
Attach on dons
Joseph Brooks of Christ Church spoke on the Monday of the Act in 1663, and was
received well, according to a passage in a contemporary satire which claimed 'in
many years there has not been a more couragious or a more comical Terrae filius'.
Brooks (possibly aided by the university wits) produced a typical Restoration-era
terrae filius speech, in which about thirty prominent members of the university were
lampooned. The Cambridge men and several townsmen suffered similar treatment.
Brooks was supposed to answer his question, 'Whether the itch to write is the scabies
of the age', in the negative. It proved a fruitful topic, however, with ample
opportunities for jokes about different kinds of itches, and mockery of various dons'
attempts at writing. Like most terrae filii, he begins with a relatively innocuous joke
about his vice-chancellor, whom he says feels no itches and is thus a dangerous
enemy to whores, not even allowing the university men to dine on Fridays. As
Kristine Haugen has pointed out, Brooks's pun on the Latin term for Friday, die
Veneris (i.e. 'the day of Venus'), both concludes his joke about prostitution, and
implies that the vice-chancellor is 'very high-church indeed'.54
After this promising beginning, Brooks mentions other eminent churchmen
briefly: he claims that the cap of Dr. John Fell, Dean of Christ Church, fits his head
so closely that he has no wig, which is strange seeing that he is head of the
Cardinal's College; Dr. Richard Allestree, treasurer of Christ Church has the
appearance of Mars but the wit of Mercury; and Dr. John Dolben, Dean of
50
For example, John Edwards's opening statement was 'En vobis Terraefilium nee obscurum nee
ignotum sed Joannensem!' (Bodleian Library MS Rawl. D. 975, p. 15); John Rotherham asked 'sed ob
quam causam expelli solent Terrae filii? (University of Minnesota MS 690235 f, p. 60).
51
Although Kristine Haugen suggests the authorities preferred to attribute scurrilous performances to
individuals, rather than the role, in an attempt to rationalise their continued toleration of it ('Imagined
Universities', p. 16).
52
The satire, attributed to John Dobson, had been recorded by Wood in a MS which now seems
untraceable: see Wood, Life and Times, vol. II, p. 563n.
53 l
Acad[emiae] nostrae Vice-caput, qui nullo pruritu laborat, nam adeo est infestus meretricum hostis,
ut [n]o[n] p[er]mittit Acad[emicos] vel cenare Die Veneris' (Bodl. MS Don. f. 29, f. 75 V ).
54
Haugen, 'Imagined Universities', p. 10.
Westminster, is a book of the church but a summary of theology.55 Fell, Allestree
and Dolben were three of the most prominent men in the university, having been
closely allied during the Civil War and Interregnum, when they continued
(surreptitiously) to perform the ceremonies of the Church of England at Oxford.56
Brooks was not the only terrae filius to mention these men. In 1669, Henry Gerard
made a few mild jokes about Fell, who had by then become vice-chancellor of the
university. Among them were the claims that though Fell was not at all devoted to
Venus, nevertheless he pursued whores vigorously; and that he shared 'one mind,
one bed, and one cap' with Allestree.57 John Rotherham joked about Fell's lack of
amatory exploits again in 1671, and then introduced Allestree with the claim that he
would willingly omit him from the speech, were he not 'inseparable' from Fell.58
Brooks, Gerard and Rotherham all emphasise the close relationship between these
three dons, Gerard adding an unsubtle suggestion of homosexuality for laughs. The
jokes drew attention to what had been a longstanding and powerful alliance between
three staunch supporters of the Church of England, although the fact that Dolben was
spared by Gerard and Rotherham probably reflects his move away from Oxford in
the mid-1660s. The terrae filii do not have any particularly amusing or shocking
secrets to impart about Fell, Allestrce or Dolben - and their audience probably
recognised this as part of the joke.
The attacks on prominent dons, then, seem to have stemmed as much from
their place in Oxford society, as their supposed iniquities. Brooks continued his
denigration of the Christ Church dons with a mention of Dr. Jasper Mayne, who had
begun a translation of Lucian's Dialogues many years earlier.59 Brooks jokes that
Mayne is such a great theologian that he converted Lucian - but some say that
Lucian converted him; that because he could not be the Dean of Christ Church, he
55
' A e d i s [Chris]ii D e c a n u s ... qui adeo c u m eius capite quadrat, ut dicunt e u m nee a m a r e , nee habere
Galerum, q[uo]d certe minim e[st] cum sit caput Coll[egii] Cardinalis'; 'thesaurarius Aedis Christi...
quamvis p[rae]fert aspectum Martis, h[abe]t tamen ingenium Merrurij'; 'Decanus Westmonastriensis,
volumen illud Ecclesiae, sed Epitome Thologiae' (Bodl. MS Don. f. 29, ff. 75V, 74V).
56
See R. A. Beddard, 'Restoration Oxford and the Remaking of the Protestant Establishment' in
Histoiy of Oxford, Vol. IV, pp. 804-7, 824. See also Wood's claim, made in 1660, that together Fell,
Dolben and Allestree intended 'to reduce the University to that condition as it stood in Laud's time'
(ie. with a strict adherence to university statutes and high Anglicanism) {Life and Times, vol. I,
pp. 348-9).
'Vice cancellarius qui licet minime veneri deditus aeque tamen ac magis meretrices insectanir . . .
Tanta tamen est amicitia inter ilium et Regium Professorem, ut unum habeant animum, unum iectum
et unum inter se galeram.' (PDP, p. 41) It is interesting to note the parallels between these jokes and
Brooks's joke about the attitude of his own Vice-chancellor, Dr. Blandford, to prostitutes.
'[Fell] statuit malitiose non tantum uxorem non ducere, sed mulieres ad unam odisse'; 'Est quidem
Canonicus [Allestree] quern ego libenter praeterirem nisi esset a Decano inseparabilis' (University of
Minnesota MS 690235 f, p. 62).
59
According to the DNB, Mayne's translation was begun 'about 1638' but was interrupted by the
Civil War and remained incomplete until it was finished by Francis Hicks and printed in 1664.
Possibly this volume had been discussed in 1663, which would explain its notice by the terrae filius.
151
150
has become an enemy to Christ's church; that he goes regularly to London so he can
attend the theatre; and that he preaches often in 'coffee conventicles' but rarely
appears in Convocation.60 Again, these attacks questioned Mayne's devotion to the
church. More importantly though, his allegiance to his college, and the university in
general, was called into question.
Like Fell and Allestree, Mayne was attacked again by Henry Gerard in 1669.
This time, the terrae filius complained that Mayne devoted so much time to writing
plays, it seemed even religion was comedy to him, that he delivered his sermons
theatrically, and that he joked about sacred things. Gerard also makes another
reference to Mayne as a latter-day Lucian.61 Though the specifics of the accusations
have changed, nevertheless the tenor remains the same. According to the terrae filii,
the salient details of Mayne's existence were that he wrote plays, was sacrilegious or
irreligious, and had once attempted a translation of Lucian. It seems that Mayne was
being mocked solely because of his position as a relatively prominent member of
Christ Church, and not for any particularly bad behaviour during the past year. If
this is the case, it might be argued that the terrae filius was an essentially stabilizing
figure, passing on Oxford traditions about certain dons by pointing them out and
labelling them with generally accepted identities. When one looks at these postRestoration speeches as a group, it can be seen that certain caricatured dons recur in
much the same fashion throughout their association with the university. In the same
way, certain themes recur from year to year, only differing in the identities of those
accused.
Kristine Haugen has pointed out that because Oxford was an ecclesiastical
institution, the terrae filii (and others) naturally spent time discussing the difference
between religious and irreligious behaviour. For example, the theme of religious
laxity and dishonesty is prominent throughout Brooks's speech. He mounts a
sustained and biting attack on Dr. Sebastian Smith of Christ Church, whom he
accuses of collecting benefices but only preaching once a year (and eating sweets
while he does so!).63 The Warden of All Souls, Dr. John Meredith, is mockingly
60
'Est et alius p[re]bendarius Aedis [Chris]ti, qui certe e[st] maximus Theologus, nam ab illo
[con]versus e[st] Lucianus, at dicunt aliqui ilium a Luciano [conjverti, et quia non potuit e[ss]e Aedis
[Chris]ti Decanus, factus est Ecclesiae [Chris]ti hostis. Hie saepe Londinum petit, ut Theatrum adeat,
quanq[ua]m nihil illic [con]spicere valeat sine specillij: In [con]venticulis Coffaeis multum
p[rae]dicat, in [con]vocatione autem raro apparet' (Bodl. MS Don. f. 29, f. 74 v ).
61
Theologicus ille histrio, qui tantum scribendis dramatibus temporis impendit, ut tandem vel ipsa
religio videatur sibi comoedia .. . qui tarn lascive concionatur . .. Nos enim ludimus cum Theologiae
Doctoribus ille vero cum ipsa ludit Theologia; nos cum profanis, ille cum sacris. Quorsum ergo vice
cancellario oblatret, cum ille canes execando, prohibuit, ne et hie Lucianus a canibus devoretur' (PDP,
pp. 41-2).
62
Haugen, 'Imagined Universities', p. 10.
3
° 'at si beneficiis adeo gravidus sit, ut ostium templi penetrare non posset, quomodo camelus hie
noster Ecclesiasticus p[er]transeat foramen acus, & si via ad caelum [n]o[n] latior [ed.\ MS has
i :;
retitled 'the Warden of All Benefices', and a burlesque list of his offices follows:
'Provost of Eton, Prebend of Lincoln, Warden of Leicester Hospital, Warden of All
Souls, likewise Dean of Capernaum, Prebend of Corazin and Bethsaida, the greatest
Fisher on the Galilean Sea'.64 Brooks claims that Meredith resembles the Apostles
only in that he is a good fisherman - but unlike them, he did not leave his boat when
he was called to ministry.65 Another divine accused of neglecting his duties was Dr.
Thomas Yates, principal of Brasenose, who was often employed on university
business in London. The terrae filius claims he only preached once a year, at the
beginning of term in Westminster Hall, and never at Oxford.66 Similarly, Dr.
Crowther, the Greek professor, 'almost never preaches, despite being a great
devourer of benefices and having more sheep than [Dr.] Harmar ever ate'.67
It seems that Brooks was repeating something of a stock accusation against
these Oxford divines, that they collected benefices and neglected their flocks
(perhaps reflecting a more general complaint against the Restoration clergy);
however, it is interesting to note what the doctors were (allegedly) doing when they
should have been preaching. Crowther drank and argued with his parishioners, and
employed a Greek man as his proxy to give Grejk lectures.68 Mayne and Yates were
often at London, where they associated with theatre-goers and lawyers respectively.
Outwardly, these attacks are an attempt to shame the men involved into a greater
commitment to their Oxford duties. However, they also describe the Oxford dons'
(and by extension, the university's) relationship with the world outside Oxford.
'labor'] sit quam ad templum, Theologus iste [n]o[n] p[osse]t servari: sed q[ui]d p[rae]stat pro tot
beneficiis? Edit, Bibit, et tanquam Terraefilius semel in anno ridicule [con]cionatur. Revera, ah! si
quis videat [con]fectiones, et saccharum candidum, quae inter [con]cionandum comedit, putaret
pastorem isrum seipsum potius, q[ua]m oves pascere' (Bodl. MS Don. f. 29, f. 73v).
64
'Et cum de beneficijs mentio facta e[st], quid existirnatis de custode o[mn]ium Animarum, sive
potius o[mn]ium beneficiorum custode? Scfilicet] p[rae]positus e[st] Aetonensis, P[raejoendarius
Lincolniensis, custos Hospitij in Leicestria, custos o[mn]ium animarum, Decanus item de Capernaum,
P[rae]bendarius de Corazin, et Bethsayda, Piscator sum[m]us in mari Galilaeo' (Bodl. MS Don. f. 29,
ff. 73V, 72V). Meredith was made Provost of Eton at about the same time he was elected to the AH
Souls Wardenship (January 1661). Wood records him as being 'master of Wigston's hospital at
Leicester' (Fasti, vol. II, col. 49).
65
'in nullo illis [Apostolis] similis e[st], nisi q[uo]d bonus sit Piscator, quanq[ua]m in hoc illos [n]o[n]
imitatur, q[uo]d jci[licet] diu vocatus e[st] ad ministerium, non tamen reliquit suam cymbam' (Bodl.
MS Don. f. 29, f. 72V). A marginal note at this point claims he 'kept a fishing Boat'.
'Est et alius huiusmodi Theolog[us] . . . qui nunq[ua]m [concieraturj nisi in Aula
Westmonasteriensi, ubi excercitium suum semper p[rae]stat p[ro] inchoando termino, & licet hie apud
nos nihil omnino agat, tamen dicunt aliqui eum valde e[ss]e sollicitum' (Bodl. MS Don. f. 29, f. 72V).
For Yates's business at London, see Wood, Life and Times, vol. I, p. 372; vol. II, pp. 167-8, 286, 556;
vol. Ill, p. 395. Yates was a lawyer, which might explain his preaching at Westminster Hall (and
certainly explains 'sollicitum', as a pun on 'solicitor').
67
'nunq[ua]m fere [con]cionatur, q[ua]mvis sit tantus beneficiorum Helluo, & plures h[abe]t oves
q[ua]m Harmarus unquam devoravit' (Bodl. MS Don. f. 29, f. 71V).
'si quaeritis quid agat? potat, et p[ro] lectura Oxoniensi sic tandem Graecatur, q[uo]d ad nos spectat
in Acad[emia], ille nos nunquam spectat: sed Graeculum quendam vicarius h[abe]t, sicut Hudubras
Crowderum' (Bodl. MS Don. f. 29, f. 7IV). Hudibras is beaten by Crowdero, who is in turn beaten and
dragged off to prison (Hudibras, Part I, Canto ii, 11. 91 Iff).
152
153
Brooks pays very little attention to what these men do within the university,
preferring to concentrate on their excursions into society at large. In the early 1660s,
many of the dons newly-restored to their university places would have retained ties
with the lives they led during the Commonwealth era. It seems that this may have
been the case with Yates: Wood records that in 1665 'the lawyers being come to
towne', Dr. Yates, 'who had been a solliciter in the time of his expulsion, gave them
a sermon at St. Marie's'.69 It is possible to read Brooks's attention to the parallel
lives of some dons not only as an attack on them for shirking their university duties,
but also as an attempt to redefine exactly what those duties were, and what the
relationship between the university and the outside world should be.
Indeed, it is possible to read many of the terraefilial jokes as comments about
the relationships which exist (or should exist) between university men, within
colleges, and between the university and society. Brooks devoted a long section of
his speech to Sir Thomas Clayton, the controversial Warden of Merton College, who
was attacked regularly by successive terrae filii.70 Brooks began by drawing
attention to Clayton's social rank, calling him 'eques . . . Mertonensis', but
immediately deflated this by remarking 'Eques certe Auratus, sed Dr Plumbeus'.71
He then referred to the unfortunate affair of Dr. Thomas Jones (a Fellow of Merton
who had recently gone mad and left the college), implying that the Warden had
exacerbated the situation.72 He reminded his audience that Clayton has six horses to
his carnage, and joked that instead of hiring a goat to protect them from the plague,
he should simply have put his wife in the stables, since she smelt like a goat.
Clayton's drugs were more likely to kill than cure, and so he did not perform
dissections of corpses, because if he did the blood flowing from them would prove he
was the murderer. He neglected his Oxford duties because he was frequently at
London. He was in charge of the hospital at Ewelme, but the poor suffered more
from the doctor than from sickness - and so on.73 In these charges Brooks highlights
69
W o o d , Life and Times, vol. II, p. 62.
Sir T h o m a s Clayton was well-known: having entered Oxford to take up the wardenship of Merton
on March 30 t h , 1661, he was barred from the college by the Merton fellows. They locked the gates
against him and refused him the key to the warden's lodgings, only admitting him four weeks later,
after they had exhausted all avenues of appeal. (For Wood's account of Clayton's election and its
consequences, see Life and Times, vol. I, pp. 389-98. A more balanced assessment is given in G. H.
Martin and J. R. L. Highfield, A History of Merton College, Oxford (Oxford, 1997), pp. 212-15.)
71
'indeed a golden knight, but a leaden doctor' (Bodl. MS Don. f. 29, f. 70*). 'Eques auratus' was the
term for a baronet.
72
Wood claims that Jones had been instrumental in getting Clayton the Wardenship, but that Clayton,
after gaining his ends, ignored Jones, who fell into 'a deep melancholy' and began behaving strangely,
'supposing himself to be warden, & c \ Eventually Jones went to London, where he lived 'in great
discontent' until he died during the plague in 1665 - a death which Wood characterises as 'a just
reward for a knave and a rogue' {Life and Times, vol. I, p. 395).
73
'in curru suo sex habeat equos, quos ut a peste servaret capram nuper [conjduxit e coll[egio]
o[mn]ium Animarum, melius autem fecisset si dominam suam in stabulo locasset, nam ilia h[abe]t
70
several points of tension within the university, and more particularly, Merton College
society. Clayton's election had been controversial from the beginning, and some
idea of its effects can be gathered from Wood's account of what he calls 'the
mischief that befel Mert[on] Coll[ege] by having a married stranger thrust upon
them'. Wood makes much of the extra expenses Clayton (and his wife) put the
college to, and the friction this caused between the Warden and the Fellows. Brooks,
in his jokes against Clayton, made similar accusations. He reminded his audience of
Clayton's disagreeable introduction to Merton society tlirough the good offices of
Jones, and introduced the theme of Clayton's expensive lifestyle (he kept an
unusually large number of horses, as well as a wife). The jokes about Clayton's
unfitness for his position as professor of medicine can be linked with allusions about
his outside interests, including his mastership of the hospital at Ewelme, and also
various remarks about his frequent visits to London, and his closeness to his brotherin-law Sir Charles Cotterell, Master of Ceremonies, and through him, to the king.75
Six years later, in 1669, Clayton was still high on the terraefilial list of
targets. Henry Gerard followed Brooks's lead in making a pun on 'eques auratus',
this time connecting Clayton's 'golden' status with his supposed bleeding of
Merton's funds.76 Gerard also referred again to the ill-feeling between Clayton and
the Merton Fellows, and claimed that Clayton 'cares for the college in a sympathetic
manner - that is, from the greatest distance'.77 Obviously, the manner of Clayton's
forced entry into Merton society still rankled with certain elements of the university,
who witnessed various attempts of this kind by high-ranking state officials to intnide
their proteges into Oxford colleges during the years following the Restoration. John
Rotherham was still harping on Clayton's financial situation in 1671, although this
I ;
hircum sub alis . . . quid in causa e[st], quod medicinae p[ro]fessor [n]o[n] e[st] simul Anatomiae
p[rae]lector, sicut statuta requirunt? Sciflicet] tot semper occidit suis Pharmacis ut [n]o[n] audeat
Assissis interesse, & ideo bene sapit q[uo]d fugit mortuorum cadavera, ne sc[i!icet] sanguinis et fluxus
p[ro]baret medicum e[ss]e Homicidam . . . Acad[emia] nostra ill! parum debet, nam adeo frequens
e[st] Londini . . . Prudenter illi com[m]issa e[st] cura hospitalis apud Newelm, sed p[ro]fecto ubi talis
e[st] medicus opus e[st] hospitali, sed uti audio pauperes medico magis laborant, quam morbo et
potius vicru carent q[ua]m medicina' (Bodl. MS Don. f. 29, ff. 70-68 (versos only)).
74
Life and Times, vol. I, p. 395.
Jones is introduced as 'D[octo]r quidam Iuris civilis qui nuper factus e[st] insanus, adeo ut iam
[n]o[n] e[st] Sui Iuris' (Bodl. MS Don. f. 29, f. 70v); 'adeo elegans e[st] vestitu ac si fratri Cotterellio
p[ro]ximus succederet in officium, et futur[us] e[ss]et magister ceremoniarum, neqfue] q[uo]d
o[mn]ium linguarum, p[rae]ter vemaculam ign&.[us] e[ss]et, sed quibus artibus tantas opes acquisivit?
[n]o[n] sanando homines, sed creando D[octo]res' (f. 68V). Wood attributed Clayton's appointment as
Warden to 'the perpetual sollicitations of Sir Charles Cotterell', and claims that Cotterell was also
behind Clayton's knighthood (Life and Times, vol. I, p. 385).
76
'Pecunias a Collegio mutuatus est, sed nunquam solvet; atque ita Rex fecit eum equitem, collegium
fecit Auratum' (PDP, p. 45).
'Nunquam Oxonii vivit, et cum medicus sit, curat Collegium more Sympathetico (hoc est, ad
maximam distantiam)' (PDP, p. 45).
154
time he claimed that the doctor had been given an emetic potion by the terrae filius
and had vomited a thousand pounds into the College chest recently.78
Clayton was not alone among college heads in being attacked by successive
terrae filii. Brooks, Gerard and Rotherham all devoted a. substantial section of their
speeches to Dr. Thomas Pierce, the President of Magdalen. Brooks returned several
times to Pierce's rule of the college, once again airing tensions between the college
head and the Fellows. Pierce, like Clayton, had been an unpopular choice for
President, and had been elected in 1661 only after a letter from court had silenced the
Fellows' opposition. Brooks referred more than once to Pierce's famous sermon
against the Roman Catholic church, preached before the king in February 1662/3,
which had been extremely controversial.79 He also reviewed Pierce's religious
opinions, which tended towards Arminianism and had led Pierce to make a
controversial attack on Calvinism. Brooks attacked Pierce's handling of the college
Fellows, and his proud assertion of his own authority. He also mentioned Pierce's
wife, claiming that she would receive a degree at the Act, and that Pierce need not
wear spurs because French mares could be controlled without them. He attributed
Pierce's cutting down of an old walnut tree to Mrs. Pierce's influence, even though
Pierce himself had claimed differently.81
Brooks spoke in 1663. The unrest at Magdalen would have been stale news
by 1669, both for the university and any outsiders who kept in contact with
university men. However, the lingering resentment had never been resolved
properly, and Gerard, the latest terrae filius, alerted his audience to more recent
instances of discord. He made an oblique reference to Pierce's libellous attack on
Magdalen Fellow Henry Yerbury (which resulted in official censu:. of the
president), and claimed that Mrs. Pierce was 'like Donna Olympia, and rules the
78
'accepta a terraefilio emetica potione mille libras in Coll[egii] aerarium nuper evomuit' (U. Mimi.
MS 690235 f, p. 68).
79
'D[octo].r ille [con]cionatus e[st] in Papam
. . D[octo]r iste in templum [con]tra Papam
[con]cionatur . . . concionem bis repetijt et decies edidit [n}o[n] q[uo]d tot lectores aut tot emptores
habuisset, sed quia toties Typographum mercede conduxit' (Bodl. MS Don. f. 29, ff. 65 V , 64 V ); see
DNB article for biographical details.
80
'p[ro]fecto Magdalenenses regit tanquam Arminianus, nam illic omnia agit pro libero arbitrio, Ita
t[ame]n irresistibiliter ac si deus e[ss]et Calvinianus' (f. 65 V ); 'domi t[ame]n o[mn]es socios ut
haereticos damnabit, si ilium [n]o[n] agnoscerent in fallibilem' (ff. 65 V , 64 V ); 'Vxor eius Doctoratus
Gradum susceptura e[st] hisce comitijs, (uti audio) nam ocreata incedit, sed p[ro]culdubio [n]o[n]
indiget calcaribus, n a m [n]o[n] opus e[st] Gallae subdere calcar equae' (f. 64 V ). A marginal note
explains 'His wife is a French woman' (ibid.).
81
'quare Iuglandis arborem eradicavit? sc[ilicet] socii arborem istam [n]o[n] poterant [con]servare,
quia p[rae]sidis uxor [n]o[n] potuit [con]servare nuces, sed ab initio [n]o[n] fuit sic, nam arbor ista ibi
diu floruit; sed p[rae]ses Magd[alensis] dicit se arborem eradicasse ne quis e sociis ex ea deciderat &
collum suum frangeret 1 (Bodl. MS Don. f. 29, f. 63 v ).
155
college'. These repeated references to the same business do not, I think, indicate a
dearth of inventive wit at Oxford. Rather, they create a slightly subversive but
extremely potent history of the Oxford community. The long memories and
fondness of Oxford men for jokes and slights (witness Wood's jest-book, Modus
Salium), and their habit of transcribing terrae-filius speeches into manuscript
miscellanies, meant that jibes made by terrae filii may well have lingered in the
communal memory for some years afterwards.83 By reiterating certain events and
embroidering on previous caricatures, successive terrae filii reminded their audience
of a shared history which linked them not only with each other, but with generations
of Oxford men reaching back into the dim past. In doing this, they were performing
a task which was particularly important for a university community. Unlike villages,
families, or other social groups with a shared oral history, the universities had a
fluctuating membership, taking in new members each year.84 The repetition of local
'common' knowledge was as important for the perpetuation of university social
structures as the repetition of scholarly knowledge was for the perpetuation of its
academic structures.
Although specific jokes differed, the successive terrae filii tended to make
similar types of complaints about different college heads. Taking Brooks's attack on
Pierce as an example, it seems that the best Magdalen gossip of 1663 concerned the
President's relationship with his Fellows, his religious views, his renovation of
college grounds, and his wife. With the substitution of jibes about professional
competence for those about religious observance, the same list could serve as a
template for Brooks's and Gerard's attacks on Clayton, and Gerard's attack on
Arthur Bury, Rector of Exeter. The fact that attacks tended to conform to these
patterns raises questions about their validity as attacks. It seems that the terrae filii
were merely adapting long-established themes of satiric humour to current situations.
There is some evidence that the speeches were understood this way by their
audiences: a later transcriber of Gerard's speech has noted that the description of the
inept Regius Professor of Divinity referred originally to 'Dr. Lockey, and may now
be apply'd to Dr. Hyde'.86 If this was the case, it suggests that the jokes were less
important in themselves than as markers which indicated enduring sources of tension
82
Yerbury is referred to as 'Medicus ille inimicus [of Pierce]' (PDP, p. 47). Mrs. Pierce 'est tanquam
Domina Olympia et regit collegium' (PDP, p. 47). Dorma Olympia Maidalchini had exerted a strong
influence over her brother-in-law, Pope Innocent X (1644-55).
83
University of Minnesota MS 690235 f, for example, contains terrae-filius speeches from 1663,
1669, 1671, and 1676, as well as a range of other university and state-related material.
84
For the importance of oral history in preserving local customs, see Fox, Oral and Literate Culture,
pp. 259-98.
For Brooks's attacks on Clayton see Bodl. MS Don. f. 29, ff. 70-65 (versos only); for Gerard's see
PDP, pp. 53, 55.
86
The note appears in Bodleian MS Lat. misc. e. 19, f. 115r.
157
156
or humour within the university. Many of the jokes dealt with power, and the way it
was deployed. This explains the obvious preoccupation with powerful university
figures such as the vice-chancellor, bedells, proctors and heads of houses. It also
explains many of the joke patterns in the speeches which, as we have seen,
questioned the ways in which university office-holders fulfilled their duties.
As well as demonstrating the ways dons used their power within college
society or the university at large, some terrae filii also implied that the powerful
could be manipulated by various forces. Although it was never stated plainly (which
would have been extremely dangerous), speakers subtly reminded their audiences of
the ways in which state officials could manipulate university regulations, and the
detrimental effects of such meddling. Brooks, Gerard and Rotherham each referred
to long-running disputes between the heads and Fellows of, variously, All Souls,
Magdalen, Merton, and Exeter colleges. Much of the friction in these colleges had
been caused by a contentious election to the headship, usually involving outside
intervention. In addition to Pierce and Clayton, Gerard attacked Arthur Bury, who
had gained the rectorship of Exeter in 1666 through the good offices of Archbishop
Sheldon and Charles II. The latest news Genrd had about the situation at Exeter was
Bury's recent suspension of five Fellows.
In more explicit attacks, the wives of college heads were blamed for some
types of college friction. According to Henry Gerard, the wives of Pierce and
Dr. Thomas James were too powerful, and were seen as having an unnatural degree
of control over their husbands and, indirectly, over the college. These charges echo
Brooks's attacks on Mrs. Pierce, which, as we have seen, centred on her supposed
power at Magdalen. The wife of Dr. Henry Savage, Master of Balliol, was too
friendly with the Fellows. Dr. Arthur Bury had apparently either married or had an
illicit relationship with his father's maid, a transgression of the social order
particularly unsettling for scholars, who saw themselves as being surrounded by
town girls who were constantly attempting to inveigle them into marriage.88 As well
as simply attacking the doctors through their wives' behaviour, Gerard revealed
some of the concern the presence of women in the university caused scholars of the
time. Women were a threat to the established power structures of the colleges, in that
they could exert a devious influence through their husbands or susceptible Fellows.
Not only could women subvert the college statutes, they could even be a threat to the
scholars' continued residence at university: scholars could be expelled for consorting
87
'Quinque socios nuper eiecit' (PDP, p. 47).
For Mrs. Pierce see notes 81 and 82 above; James's 'uxor.. . ilium verberabat' (PDP, p. 46); Mrs.
Savage had 'non solummodo focum sed lectum communem cum [sociis]' (PDP, p. 47); and Bury
'secundam . . . duxit uxorem', because 'Pater eius desiit esse inter vivos, et desiit habere ancillas'
(PDP, p. 47).
88
' 3.
with women, and a married Fellow was obliged to give up his place in college.
Gerard's insinuation that Dr, John Wallis's wife was meeting illicitly with Dr.
Millington, and his reference to Wallis as a 'town doctor' (i.e. one who lived out of
college), stemmed from these anxieties as well as from the desire to mock Wallis by
questioning his manhood and his allegiance to the university.
Attacks on townsmen and Cambridge men
Apart from powerful Oxford figures, the two other groups most often mocked by
terrae filii were Oxford townsmen, and Cambridge men. As Kristine Haugen points
out, this was a more standard attempt at policing community boundaries by
'othering' those on their borders.90 Paradoxically, however, the tone remains
inclusive: terraefilial attacks on Cantabrigians consisted largely of traditional jokes
levelled at traditional rivals. As Brooks claimed, it was expected that the terrae films
would mention the Cambridge men, many of whom had come to see the Act and
would no doubt leave disappointed if they were ignored by the speaker.91 Once
again though, beneath their ritual nature, these attacks are concerned with issues of
power. As discussion in the previous chapter has shown, battles between these
institutions tended to be fought on certain grounds: the universities argued with each
other about who was cleverer, and with the town about who controlled what. This
was reflected in several of the terrae-filius speeches.
Henry Gerard, in particular, revealed some of the sources of discord between
the university and the townspeople. He mentioned four individuals: Sampson White
and Alderman Wright, townsmen; Richard Crook, the Recorder of Oxford; and the
Mayor, John Lamb. All these men were powerful members of the city corporation,
and as such, potential threats to the university - as Gerard made clear in an attack on
the mayor's regard for town privileges and jurisdictions.92 He acknowledged the
power that Crook and Lamb in particular had over the university, then attempted to
nullify their influence by undermining their official positions. He allowed Crook to
be 'master of the town's records', but subsequently listed the man's misdeeds which included an attempt to profit from the Civil War and an involvement in
specious litigation - couching his charges in parodic legal jargon which undermined
89
We have seen scholarly anxiety about women surface in Club Law; it was even more apparent in the
music lectures delivered at the Act, which will be discussed in chapter six, below.
90
Haugen, 'Imagined Universities', pp. 5-7.
91
Brooks introduced the final part of his speech with 'Et iam expectatis, Acad[emici] ut p[ro] more
aliquid dicam de cantabrigiensibus', and proceeded to conform to expectations (Bodl. MS Don. f. 29,
f. 58V). Likewise, John Edwards began his own series of jokes on the Cambridge men with 'Sed vereor
ne irascantui" fraives Cantabrigienses quod quum de literatis et illiteratis habui sermonem illorum hue
usque immemor fui' (Bodl. MS Rawl. D. 975, p. 22).
92
'pro vitae suae ratione oppidanorum privilegia sarta tecta tuetur' (PDP, p. 43). That is, 'in the
manner of his own trade [he was a tailor] he keeps the privileges of the townspeople in good repair'.
159
158
Crook's status as a lawyer.93 Similarly, he introduced the mayor, and then reminded
his audience that Lamb was a tailor by trade, and made some extravagant puns
proclaiming his cuckoldry.94 Several standard jokes about the sexual availability of
the townsmen's wives and daughters completed his depiction of the relationship
between town and university. Like the dons' activities, the townsmen's iniquities
were well known to scholars and others. To give his speech a more topical turn,
Gerard focussed on one particular incident, the townsmen's behaviour during the
recent visit of Cosimo de Medici to Oxford, an important occasion for corporation
and university alike.95 Gerard gave a rendition of two orations supposedly made by
Lamb and another townsman, both ridiculously fawning, mildly obscene in content,
and delivered 'in metre'. By casting the mock-orations in ballad form, Gerard
implied that the townsmen were more comfortable singing drinking songs in taverns
than making official speeches - the point obviously being that they should leave
Latin orations to the university and content themselves with their natural function,
which was to keep up the supply of clothing, candles, food and ale.
The scholars' preoccupation with townsmen's trades was also demonstrated
by John Edwards.96 The satire in his speech was more general than particular, and
his main targets were townsmen, women, dieologians, and Cambridge men. As part
of a discussion of whether a highly literate age is a very warlike one, he constructed a
gloomy picture of Oxford during the Civil War, when the doctors had exchanged
their scarlet gowns for red coats, and bedells wandered abroad as beggers.97 During
this time, he says, the town was like Carthage after its destruction, and sheltered only
wild beasts and screech-owls; the townswomen were unsatisfied because no scholars
remained to make up for their husbands' impotence; and the townsmen peacefully
went about their business. In this frighteningly inverted world, the townsmen took
charge of the weights and measures, cooks, barbers and innkeepers were their own
customers, bedmakers slept tranquilly, and stable-keepers were pleased because their
horses were no longer worn out by the scholars.98 The point of this picture, of
course, was to draw attention to the economic reliance of the town on the university,
as well as to emphasise the townsmen's status as providers rather than consumers.
The terraefilial jokes against townsmen seem to have been fairly general, and
although particular men were sometimes named in the speeches (unlike the academic
targets who were usually described more obliquely), even then they rarely suffered
the thorough critique of their personal lives and peculiarities which was the lot of the
dons.100 Similarly, and probably because detailed knowledge of their everyday
doings was not available, attacks on Cambridge men tended to be traditional, and
aimed rather at the institution than particular representatives. The theme of John
Edwards' attack was the dearth of wit at Cambridge, and he accused the
praevaricator of stale and laboured jokes.101 He also indulged in more wordplay than
he had otherwise done in his speech, which suggests that Oxonians and
Cantabrigians alike shared a tacit appreciation of the puns perpetrated by members of
their sister university. Words, as well as wit, featured largely in Oxford attacks on
Cambridge. The conclusion of Brooks's speech took the form of a mock verse
oration supposedly delivered by Cambridge to the Duke of Monmouth on the
occasion of his visit to their university. Brooks claimed that Cambridge entertained
Monmouth with 'many dinners, but little salt [ie. wit]', and the following address
was suitably foolish.102 The point is similar to that of Gerard's spoofs on the
townsmen's addresses to Cosimo de Medici. They were both attempts by Oxford
men to belittle the relationships between rival institutions and influential Lien.
The praevaricator and tripos at Cambridge
Cambridge was home to the praevaricator and the tripos, two figures who fulfilled
much the same function as the terrae filius, the tripos at the Bachelors'
Commencement, and the praevaricator at the disputations for higher degrees. The
99
93
'Magister sit memoriae oppidanis... Noverint igirur universi per praesentes praedictum Dominum,
Dominum Recordemm Oxoniensis non habentem timorem Dei ante oculos, sed motum ab instigatione
Diaboli...' A list of the man's offences follows (PDP, p. 43).
94
'Halloo Mr Major, H-ornatissime Domine Sheepshead . . . Reverendissimus [Major] Sartor est'
(PDP, p. 43).
95
The Duke visited Cambridge and Oxford in May, 1669. Wood gives a detailed description of the
occasion {Life and Times, vol. II, pp. 156-62).
96
He spoke on Act Saturday in 1663, and a contemporary libeller claims he was 'loudly hist' (Wood,
Life and Times, vol. II, p. 563n).
97
'Aerus maxime literata non est maxime bellicosa' (Bodl. MS Rawl. D. 975, p. 15).
98
'oppidani potuissent quiete suas mensurare ulnas, et trutinare pondera, Linteari lintea sua
converterent in suscitabulum, Tonsores se mutuo jugularent, Coquis nullum fuisset negotium nisi ut
suos lingerent digitos, Tabemarii haedera sua redimiti seipsos biberent in aeternitatem . . . non
quererentur equorum locatores a scholaribus delassatos equos, cum iam in stabulis possint quiete
oppetere' (Bodl. MS Rawl. D. 975, p. 18).
It was often remarked that the Act benefitted the townsmen economic, .ny (because of the influx of
visitors); for example, terrae filius John Rotherham joked that if there were no Act it would be 'very
damaging for the townspeople' ('nulla comitia, q[uo]d erit oppidanis maxime damnosum' (U. Minn.
MS 690235 f, p. 62) - for the lead-in to this joke see note 120 below). Wood claims that no A c t was
held in 1678 because '(the town and Universitie being at variance) the Universitie would not
contribute to their enrichment, to pluck out the Universitie's eyes' (Life and Times, vol. II, p. 408).
For another version of this story see Rev. Thomas Dixon's letter to Daniel Fleming (The Flemings in
Oxford, vol. I, pp. 241-3).
100
Although there is some evidence to suggest that the music speakers may have made up for lost
ground in this regard (see discussion in chapter six, below).
101
This was nothing new: in 1615 the terrae filius accused Cambridge men of being 'indoctos . .. nee
philosophos, nee poetas' (Caius Coll. MS 73/40, f. 341; printed in Christopher Wordsworth, Scholae
Academicae: Some Account of Studies at the English Universities in the Eighteenth Century (London,
1877; repr. 1968), p. 288).
102
'Augustissimus dux Munmothiensis nuper fuit apud Cantab[rigiam] at illurr? multis cibis, sed
paucis salibus exceperunt' (Bodl. MS Don. f. 29, f. 58V).
160
161
similarity between the Oxford and Cambridge figures can be inferred from the way
contemporary listeners sometimes confuse them, speaking of the terrae filius at
Cambridge, or vice versa.103 Terrae filii and praevaricators often mentioned their
opposite number at the other university, or his speech, in terms which painted him as
their counterpart (though, of course, their inferior in terms of wit). Thomas
Randolph, praevaricator in 1632, mentioned rumours that the Oxford terrae filii had
been incarcerated or suspended - possibly a subject that was occupying his mr-;S as
he got up to speak. Aiiv in 1663 Oxonian John Edwards repeated some of the jokes
made by the praevaricator the previous year, refuting the ones which mocked
Oxford, and mocking in turn the praevaricator's clumsy attempts at humour. Wood
records a similar exchange:
At a commencement at Cambridg an. 1657 the prevaricator told the Oxonians that "the
deane of Ch. Ch." (Dr. John Owen) "had as much powder in his haire that would
discharg eight cannons." But Mr. Daniel Danvers of Trin. Coll. who was Terrae filius
the same yeare at Oxford told the Cantabrigians that were then there, in his speech, that
"he wondred how that powder could make such a report, seeing that it was white for
white makes no report." You must know that Owen, being a vaine person, weared for
the most part sweet powder in his haire, sets of points at his knees, boots, and lawn
boot-hose tops, as the fashion then was for yong men.104
Such exchanges suggest that the contents of the praevaricator's speech were common
knowledge ac Oxford, emphasising the constant communication between the two
universities.105 It is interesting to note that the praevaricator's attack on Oxford's
vice-chancellor is a joke which could just as easily have been used by the terrae
filius; however, the latter was put into the somewhat unusual position of having to
defend his vice-chancellor's personal foibles, in turning the attack back onto the
Cambridge outsiders.
Like the terrae filius, the praevaricator and tripos were the objects of official
censure. In 1626 the Cambridge authorities decreed that 'all praevaricators, triposes
and other disputants should refrain from mocking greetings and naming of
magistrates or laws, also from scurrilous jokes, gesticulations, and obscenities in the
English language, and from foolish scoffing, on pain of suspension or (if the
outrageousness of the deed warrants it) expulsion'. The Heads made another attempt
at suppressing outrageousness in 1667, agreeing that:
instedd of the vsuall performances of prevaricators in the majora comitia, and of the
Tripus in the first or latter Act of the minora Comitia, That the praevaricator and Tripus
respectively only mainteine what part soever of a question which hee pleaseth and make
a serious position to mainteine it as well as he can, but shewing first his position to the
vice chancellour, and the opponents without making any speech, to bring their serious
Arguments: and if either the praevaricator or Tripus shall say any thing vpon the
pretence of his position but what hee hath before shewen to the Vicechancellour and
what hee hath allowed; or the opponents shall obtrude any sort of speech, or other
arguments then serious and philosophicall, hee shall bee punished with the censure of
expulsion.106
The fates of several praevaricators and triposes show these decrees to have been
ineffectual. In 1640 the vice-chancellor, Dr. John Cosin, took exception to the
speech of Seth Ward (afterwards Bishop of Salisbury), and 'suspended him from his
degree, but restored him on the following day'. In 1669, Hollis of Clare Hall made
'a publick Recantation in the Bac. Schools, for his Tripos Speeche', and was
suspended. In 1673 John Turner apologised for his praevaricator speech. In 1680
the vice-chancellor, Dr. John Eachard, 'suspended Ds Smallwood from his B.A.
degree for his scurrilous and very offensive speech made in ye schooles . . . when he
undertook to performe ye office of a Tripos', hi 1684, 'Peter Redmayne fellow of
Trin. was expelled for some miscarriages in his Praevaricator's speech at the
Commencement' but was later restored. Other incidents of this kind, and official
pronouncements on the subject, continued well into the eighteenth century.107
Obviously, the Cambridge authorities found the praevaricator and tripos as offensive,
and difficult to control, as the terrae filius was in Oxford.
However, the seventeenth-century praevaricator speeches which have
survived show little evidence of endemic unruliness. Six orations exist: those of
Henry Vintner and James Duport, both from 1631, Thomas Randolph's from 1632,
Thomas Fuller's from 1651, Charles Darby's from 1660, and an undated speech
delivered by a Master Stubbes.109 Copies, or partial copies, of several tripos
speeches also exist.110 It would seem from these speeches that the ludic tradition at
Cambridge was oriented more towards burlesque than satire. Praevaricators tended
to centre their orations around the question, making a play on answering it in the
proper scholastic way. Thus in 1660 Charles Darby initiated a series of jokes turning
on the proposition 'that all motion is circular'. He began with a proof by experience:
103
John Evelyn mentioned 'Praevaricators' at the 1654 Act (Diaiy, vol. Ill, p. 104); and Oxonian John
Harmar fulminated against 'Terrae filii, sive Praevaricatores nostri' (Oratio Steliteutica, p. 15).
Wordsworth also cites John Eachard's grouping of 'a Tripus's, Terrae-Jilius's, or Praevarecator's
Speech' (Eachard, Grounds and Occasions of the Contempt of the Clergy and Religion (London,
1670), p. 37; Wordsworth, Social Life, p. 307).
104
Wood, Life and Times, vol. I, p. 221. Swift makes a similar joke about white gunpowder (A Tale of
a Tub, p. 236).
105
Comments like this also suggest that manuscript copies of speeches (including some now lost)
circulated between the universities, providing records of jokes that could be mined for future use.
106
Wordsworth, Social Life, pp. 228-229.
Ibid., pp. 229-31.
108
Although, of course, there must have been many like Edward Stiilingfleet, who is described as
having given a 'witty and inoffensive speech' as tripos (Ibid., p. 247).
109
For copies of these speeches see Appendix.
110
See Appendix. Due to the interchangability of the terms 'praevaricator' and 'tripos', it is possible
that some speeches have been mis-identified by transcribers as one or the other.
107
162
163
if his audience were to spin around thirty times, it would be evident to them that
everything moves in circles.111 He then moved to a topical proof, citing the circular
motion of the kingdom's political history: 'after many windings and circuits finally it
has come from a king to a king, from a Charles to a Charles'.112 This provided an
opening for various comments about the recent turmoil, and some rather oblique
jokes about the rotation of particular Cambridge men on fortune's wheel. James
Duport, whose question in 1631 was whether the chemical arts can produce gold,
followed the disputation structure more closely still. He began with a set of verses
about various types of gold, then went on to a lighthearted analysis of the question,
and a long series of comic proofs.113 hi 1632 Thomas Randolph parodied standard
scholastic method by analysing his question word by word, using each term as the
locus for a different joke, or series of jokes - for example, et was introduced with the
comment, 'I commend this word to the b^ies, because it is a coupling
114
conjunction .
Unlike the later terrae-fiiius speeches, the surviving praevaricator speeches
do not contain particularly pointed or damaging attacks on specific university men.
Duport's only obvious mention of a local identity was that of the carrier Hobson,
who had died the previous January.115 Darby briefly mentions 'a certain master of
St. John's College' who stood for parliament, and makes a few puns at the expense
of Cambridge's two proctors.116 However, the proctors were chosen as targets not
because of their transgressions, but because of the part they played in the
commencement proceedings. Darby's array of targets gives a very strong sense of
the occasion for his speech: he began by refuting the jokes the previous day's
speaker had made, and followed with addresses to various sections of the audience the Fellows, country clergymen ('sacerdotes rustici'), Oxford men, sophisters,
doctors, ladies, and physicians. The jokes he made were largely at the expense of
these groups, rather than individual members. Thomas Randolph's 1632 speech is
very similar in this respect. He began by addressing the 'prochanceilor', heads of
111
'de priore oflinis motus est circularis: haec assertio prima fronte non est adeo perspicua, ut igitur
eius manifeste. appareat, hoc unum a vobis postulo nempe ut circumgiretis vosmet ipsos vicies, tricies
usque ad vertiginem et turn clare vobis patebit ornnia movere circulariter' (Bodl. MS Top. Oxon. e.
344, f. 152r).
112
'Post multas enim ambages et circuitus tandem deventum est a Rege in Regem, a Carolo in
Carolura' (ibid.).
113
Wordsworth, Scholae Academicae, pp. 274-86.
114
'Illud vocabulum commendo foeminis, quia est conjunctio copulativa' (Poetical and Dramatic
Works of Thomas Randolph ed. W. Carey Hazlitt, 2 vols. (New York and London, 1875; repr. 1968),
vol. II, p. 678). This is the only sexual innuendo in the speech.
115
'Nee nimium jactet currus Hobsonus avitos / Vnde tot extraxit fulva talenta senex' (Wordsworth,
Scholae Academicae, p. 283).
116
'Quidem Mag[iste]r Coll[egii] Joh[nensis] vix tanto muneri idoneus, ausus est stare pro viro
parliamentario' (Bodl. MS Top. Oxon. e. 344, f. 152r).
houses, professors, proctors, taxors, bedells, masters and yesterday's praevaricator,
making a more or less mocking (but always benign) assessment of each office. In his
play upon the question 'veritas in intellectu fundatur et pendet in veritate rei', he led
his listeners through the university by listing the places he sought for 'truth', and the
people he questioned. He joked, 'I looked in college: it fled from there because of
the fellows' divisions . . . I came to the manciple; I asked, where is truth? Truth? he
said; what is this new type of dish! I came to the cook: he replied that perhaps truth is
in the elemental, not in the kitchen, fire'.117 Randolph searched for truth in the
various studies (grammar, logic, arithmetic, etc.), and philosophical and religious
sects; his enumeration and rejection of each echoes the structure of his speech, in
which he treated each word of the question separately. Once again, there is nothing
personally offensive or humiliating, except perhaps the mock-ancestry he gives the
previous day's praevaricator, a Welshman - but even this suggests an attack
according to type rather than individual.118
If the official pronouncements on the subject are an indication, it seems that
the sample of praevaricator speeches remaining to us may not be representative of
the genre's true style. It must be noted that most of the praevaricator speeches date
from earlier in the century than the most outrageous of the terrae-filius speeches, and
we do not have any of the speeches which provoked official censure. Still, it does
seem that the tradition of humorous oration was slightly different at Cambridge. The
speeches remained closer to their roots as comic 'variations' on the question being
disputed. The speakers addressed the different sections of the university society in
their audience, often commenting on the occasion which had brought them together.
There is little to suggest that they intended to advertise the university's actions or
members to the outside world, except perhaps to visitors from Oxford, who were
treated as insiders for the puiposes of this speech.
Conclusion
The terrae filii and praevaricators were the stars of the show, when it came to earlymodem Oxbridge graduation ceremonies. Visitors were eager to see them, and no
117
'In Collegio quaesivi: fugit illinc propter sociorum divisiones. . . . Ad Mancipium venio; rogo,
Ubinam est veritas? Veritas? inquit; quodnam est hoc novum ferculi genus! Ad coquum venio:
respondet veritatem esse forsan in igne Elementari, non in Culinari' (Works of Randolph, vol. II,
pp. 675-6).
118
'inc, cum
r,
'ipse,
sis Wallus, facilitate tuae patriae nativae totam eorum prosapiam enarrare potes; ab
Aenea ad Bruturo, a Bruto ad Sylvium, a Sylvio ad Caradocum, a Caradoco ad Utherum
Pendragonem, ab Uthero Pendragone ad Cadwalliderum et successores - ad Owen, ad Powell, ad
Shinkin, ad Shone, et sic ad Buckley'. A marginal note names the praevaricator as 'Buckley,
Johannen.'; however, I have not been able to find an eligible Buckley among the Cambridge alumni
(Works of Randolph, vol. II, pp. 673-4).
164
doubt they were eager to be seen. In their carnivalesque origins and behaviour, they
represented a strange mix of high and low culture. As Latin-speaking disputants,
they were unmistakably products of the university environment, but their emphasis
on 'low' topics, their bawdiness, and their use of macaronic ballads, suggest a closer
affinity with the visiting hordes than with their scholarly counterparts. The terrae
filius often characterised himself as a Bedell, a university official who patrolled the
town enforcing curfews and keeping the scholars from drunkenness and immorality.
The praevaricator behaved rather like the figure of the Father at a college salting,
addressing the different members of the university in turn, and reinforcing their part
in university society. Kristine Haugen has characterised the terrae filius as a
'malevolent tour guide', 'a mediator between the donnish world inside the university
and the Act spectators imported from elsewhere'.119 His ostensible role was to
disseminate news about the university. Despite the ridiculousness of their
accusations, terrae filii regularly claimed that their jokes merely reflected the reality
of life at Oxford. For example, John Rotherham suggested that Dr. Fell, Dean of
Christ Church, was 'the terrae filii's worst enemy; for he begrudges us material for
our speeches, wanting neither to tipple, nor to laze about, nor to banquet; and then, in
order to snatch our chief topic away from us, he maliciously resolved not only to
remain unmarried, but to hate all women: . . . if all the doctors lived like him there
would be no terrae filii, and as a consequence no Act'.120 Obviously the makers of
humorous speeches relied to a certain extent on current local news for their material.
However, as has been seen, they also reverted to a formula and attacked the same
people regularly, sometimes even reusing a predecessor's jokes. For example, Henry
Gerard made a joke in 1669 about Edmund Dickenson's book Delphi Phoenicizantes
actually having been written some years earlier by Henry Jacob, a Bedell, and then
published by Dickenson under his own name. Amusing, and suitably incendiary except that the same joke had been made by Joseph Brooks in 1663.121 While the
main point about Dickenson (that he was a plagiarist) remained the same, attendant
details differed: Brooks went on to add that Dickenson was in love with Sir Thomas
119
Haugen, 'Imagined Universities', pp. 14-15.
'est hominum nobis Terraefilijs inimicissimus; orationibus enim nostris materiam invidens, nee
vult potare, nee otiari, nee epulari, deinq[ue] ut praecipua nobis topica eriperet, statuit malitiose non
tantum uxorem non ducere, sed mulieres ad unam odisse: . . . si o[m]nes D[octo]res ita viverent
quemadmodum ille vivit nulli essent Terraefilij, et p[er] consquens nulla comitia' (U. Minn. MS
690235 f, p. 62).
121
'[Dickinsonem] tantus scribendi pruritus invasit, ut Delphi Phoenicizantes historiam, suo nomine
ederet; siquis autem mini verum istius libri authorem dixerit, erit mihi magnus Apollo' (Bodl. MS
Don. f. 29, f. 67V).
120
165
Clayton's daughter, whereas, six years later, Gerard clai
..,at Dickenson was a
eunuch.122
It seems, then, that there were at least two different kinds of jokes being made.
One was a more-or-less accurate description of amusing incidents at Oxford, or of
gossip widely reported and well-known, if not always accepted as fact. The second
was an attendant innuendo or slur made by the terrae filius, possibly based on report
or observation, possibly completely fabricated for the occasion. Many visitors would
have lacked the necessary inside information to differentiate between these two types
of accusations. Others, such as alumni, had possibly been introduced to characters
previously and were pleased to reacquaint themselves with particular dons and their
recent exploits, but would still have been confused about exactly what they were
meant to believe. Anthony Cohen has remarked that the culture of lying, in certain
Andalusian villages, reinforces a sense of community among the villagers:
The lie is one of the devices used to conceal from the outsider the reality of dissensus
within a community. But the common ability of insiders to 'read' a lie nudges them into
consciousness of their co-membership and, by implication, of the outsider's
exclusion.123
It would seem that the terrae filii lied, or bent the truth, not to conceal 'the reality of
dissensus' within the university, but to emphasise it. However, it could be argued
that their lies and revelations emphasised dissention but left their outsider audiences
uncertain about the actual facts of disorders at Oxford. Like an Andalusian lie, a
terrae filius speech could only be 'read' by an insider.124
Here, I suspect, is one reason terrae filius and praevaricator speeches were so
entrancing for scholars and visitors alike. For the former, they were evidence that
they belonged in the university community. For the latter, they were a brief glimpse
inside that community. They were spoken in Latin, and therefore would have been
largely incomprehensible to women and townspeople in the audience, unless they
had access to someone who could translate for them. The mode of speaking, based
on the disputation and in some cases mimicking the disputation process closely,
would have been foreign to many visitors. Like more serious academic productions,
the speeches made use of a variety of philosophical terminology, commonplaces,
literary allusions, Classical mythology, historical anecdotes, Greek and Hebrew
quotations, and obscure language, all of which work against a ready understanding of
the text. References to specific university men were generally by position, or some
other allusion, rather than by name. This meant that those Latin speakers from
122
'Dicunt chymistum ilium [Dickinson] Equitis Mertonensis filiae amore ardere' (Bodl. MS Don. f.
29, f. 67V); 'Ab hoc pergo ad Chymicum ilium . . . (id est) a Gallo ad Caponem' (PDP, p. 46).
123
Cohen, Symbolic Construction of Community, pp. 87-9.
124
Which, of course, excludes the current author and her own readers.
166
outside the university, such as alumni, or members of the opposite university, were
less likely to understand the speaker's intention. The possibility of confusion over
the identity of a speaker's victim was not confined to outsiders though: Anthony
Wood was horrified to recognise himself as the butt of the terrae filius's humour in
1673, but noted that the speaker was 'so obscure and dull . . . that few could
understand who he meant or what', and even better, the audience all glared at Dr.
Wallis but ignored Wood.125 The newer or more retiring members of a large
institution would not necessarily have been privy to in-jokes circulating among other
social groups. If, as some of the contemporary sources suggest, particular speeches
were composed by small groups of university wits, it is likely that some jokes were
made which only a very small circle would understand.126 However, the tendency
for the terrae-filius to target for satire the most conspicuous members of the
university, including the vice-chancellor and the college heads, meant that all the
scholars would be able to enjoy at least some of the references.
167
mental agility, the terrae-filius and praevaricator speeches were another sort of
definition, displaying wit and aggression. The interaction between disputants in any
dispuation cemented their relationships as fully-fledged members of the institution,
with the same qualifications and mental equipment for the mock-battle. Their
academic fitness for this brotherhood of learning was demonstrated pubncly at
commencement. Similarly, the satirical speaker reinforced their admittance to the
social fraternity of the university by reminding them of the social structures
governing their community, and the relationships which characterised university
society. Like Geertz's Balinese cockfights, the purpose of terrae filius and
praevaricator speeches was 'neither to assuage social passions nor to heighten them
.. . b u t . . . to display them'.128
The audience, then, was divided by its fundamental understanding of these
speeches. As Kristine Haugen has pointed out, the speeches reflect the process of the
commencement ceremonies as a whole, in that they seem to invite strangers to view
the usually-secret activities of the university.127 However, just as visitors could only
penetrate a certain distance behind university walls, and were even then confined to
certain areas (during the Act ceremonies, for example, when they were organised
into particular seating areas in the Sheldonian), so they were able to hear university
secrets being discussed, but were unable to make sense of them, or even to decide
whether these secrets were true or not.
However, it is the audience of insiders, fellow-eruditi and university men, for
whom the speeches were primarily intended - and for them the satire had another
function. Just as the productions of serious lecturers and disputants both
disseminated knowledge and helped to reproduce institutional culture, so their satiric
counterparts both enlightened and defined the university. Ostensibly, the terrae
filius's and praevaricator's part in the disputations undermined the scholastic
program of knowledge-through-argument, by ridiculing or completely disregarding
the question. However, it could be argued that this ludic figure interrupted only the
subject matter, and not the overall purpose, of the ceremony. If the ceremonial
disputation defined the university through a display of the scholars' erudition and
125
This, at least, was Wood's reading of the situation (Life and Times, vol. II, pp. 266-7). Robert
Hooke seems to have had a similar experience at a performance of Shadwell's The Virtuoso (Richard
Nichols, The Diaries of Robert Hooke, the Leonardo of London, 1635-1703 (Sussex, 1994), p. 44).
"6 Wood, Life and Times, vol. II, p. 563n. See also my comments about the composition of music
speeches, below.
127
Haugen, 'Imagined Universities', p. 6.
128
Geertz, 'Deep Play', p. 444.
168
169
6. Lascivious lecturers: music speeches at Oxford
The largest group of surviving texts of this kind consists of music lectures
delivered at Oxford.5 Their popularity (for transcribers, at least) can be attributed to
the distinct character they had developed. Instead of lecturing in Latin on aspects of
music, the speaker delivered a satirical speech in English which was specifically
addressed to the ladies in his audience. The speeches generally contain an unsettling
mix of attacks on women's vices (general as well as specific to certain women in the
audience), fawning protestations of the scholars' devotion to the female sex, and
ribald jokes. As one of the very few occasions on which the university addressed
itself to a female audience, these speeches give an interesting insight into the way
university men related to women in early-modem England.
7 could wish I could make you laugh'
Now Gentlemen for mee it misbecomes
To ask of you your ill deserved Humms
These Ladies here will prove more kind perhaps
And Kindly on us all bestow their claps.1
Despite his words, Thomas Lawrence might have expected hums of approval, at least
from the gentlemen in his audience, for managing to insert one final bawdy pun into
the epilogue to his music lecture. While the terrae filius and praevaricator were the
most notorious figures connected with university commencement ceremonies, the
occasions also allowed other university men to display their wit, as well as their
erudition, in public. Among these were the speakers of so-called 'lectures' in the
various schools. These lectures had probably once been formal addresses to the
graduating scholars and visitors by -\ fellow graduate. However, like other
commencement productions, they were influenced by the desire for a lighter type of
entertainment, and extant manuscript copies show the seventeenth-century lectures to
have been almost wholly ludic in content.2 It seems that these mock-lectures were
performed at both Oxford and Cambridge commencement ceremonies, and during the
Christmas period at one or more of the Inns of Court.3 Texts of rhetoric, grammar,
arithmetic and music lectures survive, and there are occasional references to other
lectures of this type.4 The lectures commonly parody standard texts or authors with
which all the university audience would have been familiar.
Although other motivations are hinted at in the texts, the writers of music speeches
seem genuinely to have believed that their performances would amuse visiting
ladies.6 As we have seen, the Act celebrations incoiporated various activities which
set boundaries between the university and visitors, and the music speeches were no
exception. On the surface, the speeches acted to draw the attention of men and
women alike to faults traditionally perceived as exclusively female, and thus set the
women who attended the speeches apart from their male attackers. Speakers
emphasise that they are speaking in English, contrary to their usual practice, because
the ladies would not understand Latin. Much is made of the women's unwonted
presence at the university and their obvious physical difference from the scholars.
The imagery used by the music lecturers emphasises this difference, effectively
denoting the women as 'Other' on a more fundamental level than the townsmen,
Cambridge men and those attacked in other kinds of speeches. However, it could be
argued that the music speakers' treatment of women, while effectively setting them
outside the university, also reveals a deep anxiety about the place of women in
society at large, and particularly about their relationship with the university. The very
fact of such a strong rejection of 'female' traits, such as vanity and deceit, along with
females themselves, indicates the scholars' desire to emphasise their own
masculinity. Their obsessive references to the sexual availability of the town women
(and concomitant emphasis on their own desirability and activity as sexual partners)
1
Pierre Danchin, The Prologues and Epilogues of the Restoration 1660-1700 (Nancy, 1981) vol I
p. 325.
2
For sources of these speeches see Appendix.
3
Mark Eccles, 'Francis Beaumont's Grammar Lecture", Review of English Studies vol. 16 (1940)
pp. 402-414.
For example, Charles Darby in his praevaricator speech mentions the jokes of the 'oratorem
hesternum Johannensem ante acta Physica' (Cambridge University Library MS Mm. v. 42, f. 240r; a
different copy has 'ante actum medicum' (Bodleian MS Top. Oxon. e. 344, f. 156r).
Music speeches were also delivered at Cambridge in the seventeenth and early-eighteenth centuries,
but very little material has survived. A Latin speech, delivered c. 1680, can be found in Cambridge
University Library MS Mm. v. 42, ff. 220v-227r; a set of English verses (which sometimes
accompanied music speeches) also exists (Cambridge University Library MS Mm. v. 42, ff. 249V250r). Wordsworth has printed the English verses from Roger Long's speech delivered at Cambridge in
\1\A {SocialLife, pp. 261-69).
6
Henry Thurman told the ladies 'I wish I could make you laugh' in his 1656 speech (Cambridge
University Library MS Dd.vi.30, f. 21V).
170
can be read as an attempt to reinforce their masculinity, both for their own benefit,
and more importantly, for the benefit of the visitors who have come up from London
or down from the neighbouring shires.
Histoiy, form and structure
Throughout the entire seventeenth century only a handful of bachelor's degrees and
doctorates were awarded in music at Oxford, and most of these went to practising
musicians who had trained elsewhere and were simply receiving recognition for their
work, often because of service to the king.7 This situation, which also existed at
Cambridge, stemmed in part from the lack of formal opportunities for training in
music theory or practice at either university, despite their being part of the BA
course.8 However, a lively tradition of extra-curricular musical activity flourished
among scholars at both the universities, prompting P. M. Gouk to comment that
'music was valued more for its social and recreational benefits than as an academic
discipline'.9 It seemed that this might change in 1627 when Dr. William Heather, a
gentleman of the Chapel Royal who had taken his degree at Oxford in 1622, founded
a music professorship 'to provide training in both the practical and speculative
branches of music'. His endowment provided funds for the appointment of a
'choragus' to direct practical training, and a music lecturer to lecture on theory once a
term in the music school. The former position was occupied throughout the
remainder of the century, and the incumbents, often college organists, came to be
known as professors of music. The latter position, however, only ever had one official
appointee, John Allibond, MA of Magdalen College, who was music lecturer between
1626 and about 1632.10 This suggests that the serious music lecture, like others at the
seventeenth-century universities, was hardly a well-attended or integral part of the
curriculum. Seemingly from inception, however, the lecture had a more lighthearted
side - and it is in this form that it survived until the end of the seventeenth century, as
part of the Act ceremony.
Commencement ceremonies, as occasions for university men to demonstrate
prowess in their chosen fields before graduating, naturally saw musical performances
by men taking music degrees. It seems that these performances were normally
accompanied by some sort of speech or lecture - Christopher Wordsworth printed the
notes of a 'Musica Praelectio', apparently delivered at Oxford in 1615, a decade
7
P. M. Gouk, 'Music' in Histoiy of Oxford, Vol. IV, pp. 622-3.
Wordsworth, Scholae Academicae, pp. 235-40.
9
Gouk, 'Music', p. 623. Oxford was also an influential centre for viol consort playing.
10
Ibid., pp. 623-4.
8
171
before the institution of Allibond as Heather's music lecturer.11 Gouk claims that the
stipend allocated for the music lecturer was 'later assigned to the person who gave the
annual music lecture at the Act', indicating that there was some confusion about this
person's status.12 The indeterminacy persisted throughout the history of the music
speech. Thomas Hearne writes that in his day (early eighteenth century) there was
'both a Musick Lecture and a Musick Speech':
besides the Musick Lecture by the Professor, between 9 and 10 Clock, there used upon
Act Monday morning pretty soon (about 8 Clock) to be an English Musick speech by a
distinct person from the Professor, for the entertainment of the Ladies, in which were
many jocular & satyrical passages .. ,13
The men who delivered these early-morning English music speeches at Oxford had
usually taken their MA degree in the previous two or three years - that is, they would
have been equally qualified to give a serious lecture.14 Like the role of terrae filius, it
seems the position of music speaker was highly sought after. The speech itself,
however, is likely to have been the product of a group effort. Mr. Walbank claimed
in his 1684 epilogue that 'The charming Foster . . . / Profferd a Guiney for this
Preaching place', and was planning to 'kill ye women .. . / With his own beauty & ye
students Wit'.15 James Allestree offers an insight into the production of the 1679
speech, in his epilogue:
Had you but known how fast intelligence came
W1 notes were sent of this & tother Dame
Who heated who w1 baudry past last night
Who jilted y1 raw Esqr & this young Knight
Had yee known this I justly had bin blamd
Not why these few, but why no more were nam'd. l6
Even though the final composition was Allestree's, there is a sense in which the
whole group of scholars had a hand in its making and some definite expectations of
what would be said. The corporate nature of the production means that it can be
heard as not just the bawdy voice of one aberrant scholar, but of a wider student
body. Like the terrae filius, the music speaker could characterise his speech as
Oxford news or gossip. Allestree places himself at the centre of a web of informants,
which gives him a certain amount of power over the lives of the townspeople (or at
least over their reputations). No doubt the suggestion that they lived under an
11
Wordsworth, Scholae Academicae, pp. 287-8; the source of these notes is Caius Coll. Library MS
73/40, f. 341.
12
Gouk, 'Music', p. 624. In his description of the music lectureship, Wood notes that since no-one
took up the position after Allibond, 'ihe said small sum [ie. his fee], with other additions, was to be
allocated to him that should speech it at the Act time in the Musick School' (Histoiy, vol. I, p. 358).
13
Heame, Remarks and Collections, vol. XI, p. 226.
14
For a list of Oxford music lecturers, see Wood, Life and Times, vol. II, p. 564. The lecturer was
chosen annually by the vice-chancellor and proctors (Wood, Histoiy, vol. I, p. 358).
15
Danchin, Prologues and Epilogues, vol. IV, p. 544.
16
Ibid., vol. Ill, p. 181
172
(apparently) high level of scholarly surveillance was designed to irritate those
townspeople not already mortified by embarrassing revelations.17
The music speech itself took different forms throughout the century, though its
structure always incorporated one or more musical interludes. The notes printed by
Wordsworth suggest that in 1615 the speech was given entirely in Latin, apparently
beginning with a commentary on Boethius's De Musica, the text on which all music
theory of the time was based. However, a discussion of the 'Doric' and 'Ionic'
modes of music led into a series of jokes against Cambridge men, primarily on the
subject of their stupidity.18 Later, Thomas Crosfield noted Allibond's lectures on Act
Saturday in 1626 and 1631, recording in his diary that Allibond spoke twice on both
occasions - first in Latin, and then in English.19 The use of English is remarkable,
given the academic nature of the performance. Wood gives one reason for the
lecture's transition to the vernacular:
whereas this Lecture in the University is usually read in Lattin; at the Act time especially
the Reader may expound the principall points of this Lecture in English, because divers
skilful Musitians are not so well acquainted with the Lattin Tongue as University men.20
However, it is likely that it was not the musicians but the ladies in the audience who
were the intended beneficiaries of this English speech. From Crosfield's early
references we see that Allibond's speeches contained jokes specifically meant for
women. It seems the satirical music speech was already well-established at Oxford
before the advent of the music professorship, and that the tradition proved impossible
to break.
Later in the century the speech was always accompanied by a prologue and an
epilogue, which, though they masqueraded as apologies for the crassness of the
matter in a manner similar to stage prologues and epilogues of the time, tended to
reinforce the general tone of the speech. It seems that, for some of the auditors, these
prologues and epilogues came to stand for the speech itself. Surviving manuscripts
often include them without any prose speech, occasionally under titles which give the
impression that the music speech consisted only of these verses.21 Their presence in a
speech originally meant to be a semi-serious lecture is another instance of the way
popular forms came to influence academic productions at Oxford. It is not surprising
that the music speeches, in particular, felt this influence: they were probably the most
'popular' of the academic performances at the Act, given that they were the only one
spoken in English and deliberately addressed to an unlearned (female) audience.
They could certainly be well-attended: according to Wood's estimation, '2000 people
at least' crammed into the Sheldonian to hear Edmund Norden deliver the music
speech at the 1680 Act.22 Professional theatre companies were allowed to perform at
Oxford during the Act, and there was presumably an element of competition between
the academic and non-academic performers, if only in tenns of their relative
entertainment value. As we shall see, content, as well as form, seems to have been
influenced by what the scholars supposed their fashionable London audience
required. Thomas Lawrence acknowledged this in 1669 when he introduced his
epilogue with the caveat, 'Since tis now the fashion of our modeme witts to palliate a
bad play wth worse Rhyme, I pray you take this Epilogue at Parting'.23
Bawdy jokes
It is not evident ?,! what stage the speech came to be associated more with jokes
against women than the discussion of music, but by the 1640s the transition had been
made. From the speech of Richard West in 1640, until the end of the seventeenth
century, the music speech was addressed specifically to the ladies in the audience,
and the greater part was given in English. It seems likely that women had often been
present at the music lectures, drawn more by the performances of scholars' musical
compositions than the theoretical discussions which interlarded them. Wood recalls
with satisfaction 'a most excellent musick-lecture of the practick part' which took
place in the music school on May 24th, 1660, and in which Wood himself performed
on the violin.
There were also voices; and by the direction of Edward Low, organist of Ch. Church,
who was then the Deputy Professor for Dr. <John> Wilson, all things were carried very
well and gave great content to the most numerous auditory. This meeting was to
congratulate his majestie's safe arrival to his kingdomes. The school was exceeding full,
and the gallery at the end of the school was full of the female sex.24
17
Cf. the scholars' knowledge of townsmen's affairs in Club Law (chapter four, above).
Wordsworth, Scholae Academicae, p p . 287-8.
19
The 1626 entry reads: '. . . Musica lectio Mr. Alibone. Loquitur bis: i. Latine de musica in laudem
eius; de munificentj benefactorj D. D. Heda; ii. Anglice in Laudem praestantium & canentium ac etiam
auditorum pnecipue autem de faeminis jocatur quae optima duxit instnimenta Eymaevxa. & deinde
concludit'. The 1631 entry is: 'Vesperiae Oxoniensis. Musica practica & speculative per Magistrum
Alibone quj Latinum eloquium habuit & Anglicanum fasminis quibus narravit sese dudum peregre
eg[i]sse ad invisenda aliqua instnimenta & cantus de quibus iocose admodum verba habuit' (Diary of
Thomas Crosfield, pp. 5, 54).
20
Wood, Histoiy, vol. I, p. 359.
21
See, for example, Bodleian MS Eng. poet. f. 13, ff. 61V-63V, in which a prologue and epilogue are
transcribed under the general heading, The Musick-Speech spoken by Mr. Smith of University college
in the Theatre, July 8. 1693'.
18
This performance (which might today be regarded as a celebratory concert rather than
a practical music lecture) indicates that it was not only at Act time that women
22
Wood, Life and Times, vol. II, p. 490.
Bodleian Library MS Add. A 368, f. 12 7 . Another copy (University of Minnesota MS 6 9 0 2 3 5 f,
p. 252) reads 'a bad play with a verse rhyme', possibly creating a pun where it was not intended (the
verst kind).
24
Wood, Life and Times, vol. I, p. 316.
23
174
175
attended university musical performances. A wide section of the community enjoyed
and participated in recreational vocal and instrumental music, and it is not surprising
that, when given the opportunity, they flocked to hear famous exponents of the art.25
What is not so clear, however, is why women regularly attended a performance
which grew steadily more scurrilous and misogynist as the century progressed.
Though always ostensibly intended, as Hearne says, 'for the entertainment of the
Ladies', the speech gave its composer the opportunity to rehearse as many standard
satirical attacks on women as he could possibly work into his theme. While these are
occasionally witty, and less occasionally amusing, they provide a rather questionable
form of entertainment for visiting ladies. The cruellest taunts are reserved for town
girls and, to a lesser extent, scholars' wives: perhaps the visitors could take some
comfort in their relative anonymity, knowing that they were more likely to be the
targets of good-natured (or at least non-specific) raillery than pointed satire. A verse
dedication accompanying one speech, addressed 'to Madam S.', suggests that one
function of the speech was to remind its noble audience of their superiority over the
Oxford townswomen:
. . . my Muse did equall justice doe
Both to the Oxford Blowses and to you,
Since what was truly said in their dispraises
The value of your reall merit raises
. . . Their painted visor faces
Enhance the prizes of yr native graces.26
Visiting women may also have been drawn by the fact that this was the only
entertainment designed expressly for their audience, and as such, provided a sense of
participation in commencement festivities from which they were otherwise barred. It
is likely that they would have wanted to see and be seen by the lively young wits of
the university, whose doings would later be discussed in London circles.
The scholars had their own ideas about the ladies' attendance, showing that
even they realised that the content of the speeches was not necessarily an inducement.
'Mr. Langford of Christ Church' played the part of the growling satyrist in 1683,
beginning his prologue thus:
Were women half soe coy as they doe appeare
Such bawdy Lectures have been read each year
Long before this we had noe Ladies here:
Abused, exposed, yet tame they sitt, and still,
In spight of ribauldry the benches fill
25
For female audiences at university plays see Alan H. Nelson, 'Women in the Audience of
Cambridge Plays', Shakespeare Quarterly vol. 41 (1990), pp. 333-6; and more generally, Richard
Levin, 'Women in the Renaissance Theatre Audience', Shakespeare Quarterly vol. 40 (1989), pp. 16574.
26
Oxford, Queen's College Library MS 478, ff. 2V\
His answer to this conundrum does not reflect positively on the ladies present: 'Your
pride is such, you freely club your shame / And rather court a bad then have noe
name'.27 The desire for notoriety which these lines seem to attribute to the ladies
reflects tne scholars' knowledge that their wit, at least in the latter part of the century,
was food for gossip in many of society's circles. Being noticed at the Oxford Act,
even in derogatory fashion, was one way of becoming famous.28 Wood's anecdote
about the lady who attempted to shout down a music speaker indicates, though, that
women were not necessarily a complaisant audience, and the scholars did not always
have it their own way.29
Finally, when trying to answer the question of why these speeches were
tolerated, the power of tradition must not be underestimated. The speeches were
given each year because they had always been given within living memory, and, as I
have argued, the conservative atmosphere of the universities tended to have a
preserving influence on institutions which seem to the outsider to be arcane, outdated,
or merely ridiculous.30 This can be applied equally to the ladies' attendance: they did
so because it was the custom. The influence of tradition is suggested by the
numerous speakers who refer to, or place themselves within, the series of music
speakers and speeches: Langford does it in his prologue, quoted above; Harry
Walbank is surprised that the ladies have 'ventur'd here once more'; Lawrence speaks
of his 'ingenious predecessour of the Last Act'.31 By inserting their own
performances into the tradition, speakers deflect personal criticisms to a certain
extent, and ask their audience to rsact in a way already mapped out by previous
audiences.
Most speakers seem to have made full use of this apparent immunity from
criticism. While relatively few music speeches survive in their entirety, those that do,
especially those from the latter part of the century, provide a good indication of the
level of coarseness which could be expected of the occasion. The texts are littered
with sexual allusions, including, in Latin, puns on the erection of a new organ ('ilium
novum Organon extiitxisse, quod festis diebus sacris cantilenis inseruif), and
references to intercourse; more puns and only slightly less explicit allusions in
English ('I had rather play on the Virgin=holes then the Organs'); and obscene jokes
in the prologues and epilogues ('I . . . never yett / Could meet a formal, godly,
mincing Cit, / But loved to swallow still the slippery Bitt').32 Taken as a group, the
Danchin, Prologues and Epilogues, vol. IV, p. 475.
Harold Love has pointed out the ambiguous responses of female victims to lampoons - some seemed
to prefer notoriety to invisibility [English Clandestine Satire, 1660-1700 (forthcoming)).
29
Although in that case, the interruption resulted in the lady's discomfort (see pp. 49-50, above).
30
See above, p. 142 and note.
31
Danchin, Prologues and Epilogues, vol. IV, p. 542; Bodleian Library MS Add. A. 368, f. 8 r .
32
Bodl. MS Add. A. 368, ff. 6' and 11'; Danchin, Prologues and Epilogues, vol. IV, p. 543.
28
176
music speeches are generally much coarser than other orations of the same kind.
Therefore, it seems likely that it was their specific function and audience which
encouraged obscenity.
Freud, in his Jokes and their Relation to the Unconscious, engages in a brief
but useful discussion of coarse jokes.33 He claims that obscene jokes are a form of
sexual exposure: 'By the utterance of the obscene words it compels the person who is
assailed to imagine the part of the body or the procedure in question and shows her
that the assailant is himself imagining it'. This exposure is primarily designed to
elicit a response from the hearer, a 'corresponding excitement' which may lead to
gratification of desire. However, if the gratification is delayed, as it generally is in
the presence of a third person, the obstruction to the sexual impulse causes the joke to
turn hostile - in which case the woman becomes the object of hostility, and the
speaker and listening third person form an alliance against her. While Freud's
analysis is based on a modern understanding of obscenity and is perhaps too focussed
on libido as an explanation for the jokes (ignoring factors such as male bonding
rituals), it is helpful in considering the music speech perfonnance. The scholars have
a tendency to treat all women as potential sexual partners, and their demonstration of
this in the music speech can be seen as an opening gambit in their attempts to achieve
this goal. It seems that they either expected or pretended to expect the desired
response from the ladies: one speaker hopes to redden their pale cheeks with his
'smutty Jeer', saying '. . . it would a double kindness be / To raise their beauty &
their lechery'.34 There is also some anecdotal evidence that music speakers were
justified in their expectations.35 However, it is the role of Freud's 'third person', the
other listener, which is most relevant in the university context. Freud argues that it is
the third person who laughs at the joke, and whose libido is gratified by the first
person's attack on the second person. This category of third person would include all
the scholars who have also assembled to hear the music speaker. Thus, there is a
process of transferral going on: the scholars know that the opportunity for sex offered
by the ladies' presence is likely to remain unfulfilled, so they engineer a situation
where they will gain a similar (on one level) satisfaction which they can all share.
The extreme smuttiness of the later seventeenth-century speeches may also
have been partly for the benefit of visiting Londoners. With court poets such as
177
Rochester and his friends writing verses and dramatic prologues and epilogues beside
which the music speeches seem as innocuous as nursery-rhymes, it is not difficult to
imagine the scholars attempting to keep up with their more sophisticated London
cousins. Some anxiety about the relative innocence of their productions is evident in
the speeches. Lawrence is most explicit in his epilogue, saying that the author
. . . feares he has treated you wth noe delight,
Hee is not yet debaucht enough to write.
Pardon the modesty of his first addresse
Next hee'l be more bold wth more successe.36
Interestingly, the speaker attributes to the visiting ladies a knowledge and enjoyment
of debauchery similar to that of the London courtiers. Of course, many scholars
would have kept in touch with London town gossip via friends, or the circulation of
news in the form of satires, libels and lampoons. If these were the sources of their
impressions of London women, the scholars' assumption that they would be amused
rather than shocked by lewdness is not suiprising.37 Scholarly insecurity about the
relationship between the universities and London society makes itself felt in various
ways, most obviously in the derision of 'fops', but also in the way the scholars speak
about London. Lawrence claims the ladies' transforming presence in Oxford 'will
make the Walkes & Groves surpasse those of Greys=Inne' and 'convert our New into
an Hide=Parke, & our Paradise into a Spring=Garden'.38 For a brief time, Oxford will
enjoy the sophistications of the metropolis, which seem to depend upon one thing: the
society of women.
Female pursuits: sex and the single scholar
The music speech at Oxford's famous 1669 Act was delivered by Thomas Lawrence
of University college.39 He begins with a section of Latin prose, which is dense with
classical allusions, and can be divided into three parts: first a short section discussing
music, then a longer section in which the music motif is used to introduce terraefilialstyle jokes against Oxford men, and finally a bawdy section about the effect of music
on women, the best jokes of which are repeated later (somewhat less obscenely) in
English for the ladies' benefit. The Latin ends with a comment about the women's
inability to understand the oration to this point:
33
Sigmund Freud, Jokes and their Relation to the Unconscious ed. James Strachey (London, 1905),
pp. 96-102.
34
Danchin, Prologues and Epilogues, vol. IV, p. 543. Walbank was also referring to the disease
chlorosis, or 'Green-sickness', which made its young female sufferers pale, and was supposed to have
been cured by sexual intercourse {Aristotle's Masterpiece Compleated(London, 1698), pp. 56-57).
35
Alicia D'Anvers finishes a description of the 1693 music speech with 'That heap of Scandals I'll not
write, / Which made for Sm[ith] the Ladies Fight. / Tho other Lovers sure 'twould mine, / At Oxford
'tis their way of woing.' (The Oxford-Act: a Poem (London, [1693]), p. 22).
36
Bodl. MS Add. A. 368, f. 12V.
Impressions of societies based on their cultural products can be wildly inaccurate: one has only to
watch American television dramas to appreciate this.
38
Bodl. MS Add. A. 368, f. 11 v . The reference to Gray's Inn walks may be ironic: cf. Alexander
Radcliffe's poem 'Wrote in the Banquetting-House in Grayes-Inn-Walks' {The Ramble (London,
1682), pp. 121-2).
39
For manuscript copies of this speech see Appendix.
37
178
Sed sentio tandem Mas mihi gratas esse, non quod in Was dicam, sed quod dicentem non
imeiligant, cum e risu vestro suspicentur me non tarn Latinam sed Romanam, hoc est,
obscaenam orationem habere.A0
The women, although they suspect the speecli to have been indecent because of the
men's laughter, cannot prove their suspicions.
The speaker then switches to English* and addresses the ladies in a verse
prologue. One transcriber has helpfully added a few words to set the scene: 'When
rising up and wondring to see so many beauties in a place where so few inhabit, he
thus began'.41 In fact, this explanation is unnecessary, as the first lines of the
prologue make much the same point:
Blesse me! what sight is this invades my eyes?
Haue Ladies won the town by strange suiprise?
What do Slop-shood Inceptours female come,
As well as male from this Acts teeming wombe?42
From the very first words addressed to them, the strangeness of their presence at
Oxford is emphasised to the women, and on this level their status as onlookers, rather
than 'Inceptours', is reinforced.43 However, the same words betray the speaker's
underlying concern about the women's presence - their images 'invade' his eyes, and
it seems they have also invaded and conquered the town by stealth. Not only that, but
their participation in the Act hints at their invasion of the strictly male preserve,
academic learning.
Lawrence begins his speech by attempting to justify his impending attacks on
women. Having established the women's apparently warlike intent, he claims that
the best way to weaken your charms is to serve the young white witches, as we doe the
old black Haggs, scratch you handsomely and in a civill way, and your enchantments
vanish 44
In effect, the speech is a preventative against the ambiguous 'charms' of these young
women. Their physical attractions are equated with 'enchantments', but the power of
both will be nullified through the power of satire, which, by 'scratching' (a crude defacing), reveals the true nature of things. The favourite Renaissance theme of
women's hiding their true selves under painted faces occurs here and in many of the
music speeches. Hamlet's angry outburst to Ophelia, 'God hath given you one face,
and you make yourselves another' (Ill.i), is repeated here more subtly, but the same
40
'I think they will at length be grateful to me, not because I speak against them, but because they do
not understand my speech, although by your laughter they might suspect me to be giving not so much a
Latin as a Roman, that is, an indecent, speech.' (Bodl. MS Add. A. 368, f. T)
41
Ibid.
42
Ibid.
4j
This was a commonplace: most music speakers commented on the fact that there were usually no
women at Oxford. For example, Richard West called the situation a 'constant lent' (Bodl. MS Eng.
misc. f. 653, p. 31) - though this metaphor suggests scholarly abstinence, rather than the absence of
females.
44
Bodl. MS Add. A. 368, f. 7V.
point is made. Painting as a means of hiding defects s bad enough, but the women's
actions in giving themselves new faces are seen to go against divine law. By
usurping the divine right of creation, women are setting themselves in competition
with God. Another music speaker, Richard Torless, claims as much in his speech,
saying 'in one sence many of you are Deityes, for you create your own beauties'. This
act of creation has further ramifications, however. It challenges the established order,
in which men are next in power to God, and men are the arbiters (and therefore the
creators) of female beamy. Torless vividly describes the effect of this usurpation on
men: 'when you put on your vizards . . . I mean your new faces, if a hot gallant
chance to encounter you, and kisse close; you will in an instant draw yr Picture in his
face, and may take him for your Looking-glasse'.45 In Torless's imagination, a close
encounter with a painted woman will result in the man's own face being over-written
with the woman's image, so that the man becomes nothing but a mirror in which the
woman sees her own form.
This moitif of subversive female power recurs throughout the following prose
speech. Lawrence exclaims to the ladies at
how poorly we come off, when we engage wth you . . . we all threaten like young
L de=grooms the first night, & when our venom's spit, looke as simply as they doe the
next morning. 46
The metaphor introduces marriage as another site of male/female contest, and reveals
the speaker's unease about marriage, both in the wider world, and in the university
society. Under the spell of his lady's charms, Lawrence says, 'a soft whining Squire
makes an imperious Tyrannesse of a civill Mistresse, & by the weakenesse of his
braine, giues himselfe up to the power of the Devil'. However, the scholars (who, we
can assume, are neither 'soft whining' Squires nor weak-brained) operate on the
theory that 'a bold Sally secures us at once and makes you in loue wth our valour foi
you hate a witlesse G:llant as bad as you doe a sottish husband and you loue to haue
your imaginations tickled as well as your sides'.47 While this provides a convenient
excuse for the scholars to do much in the way of tickling their audience's
imaginations, it also hints at the way husbands are characterised by the scholars.
Lawrence drinks a toast to the ladies' 'good natur'd men at home . . . They kind
soules little thinke what we are saying here, & what we shall be doing in another
place'.48 Richard Torless used an analogy drawn from classical mythology: the ladies
45
Society of Antiquaries of London MS 330, f. 34 r .
Bodl. MS Add. A. 368, f. T. Dryden had used the line 'Like a young Bridegroom on his Weddingnight' in the prologue to An Evening's Love, first performed in 1668. It is possible that Lawrence was
deliberately echoing Dryden's metaphor, used by him as a comic illustration of the dramatic poet's
relationship with his insatiable (and unfaithful) audience.
47
Bodl. MS Add. A. 368, f. T.
48
Ibid., f. 9V.
46
180
181
leave 'old Tithonus bed to court the youthful embraces of the Sun; That is . . . leave
the good old man at home, and come to the Act at Ox [ford]'.49 The gap between
'home' and Oxford is emphasised, characterising the Oxford Act as a carnival place
and time where the usual rules of conduct do not apply.50 The scholars bolster their
own image as sexual predators by characterising all husbands as cuckolds, unable to
prevent their wives from straying and unaware of their activities.51 At the same time,
however, the scholars betray their fear of being tempted into marriage: in Lawrence's
words, the 'Ignoramuses' who are attracted to women's beauties 'are ever caught bird
lim'd in a kisse or snapt in a pitfall of Matrimony'.52 It is only by resisting the snare
of marriage that the scholars are able to retain their advantage over the weak and
deceived husbands at home.
Lawrence points out further disincentives to marriage in a series of jokes about
the advanced age of the college heads' wives:
those antiquated Sybills of the University whose Reverend heads Apollo would surely
borrow to speak his oracles out off, but that there husbands have just Divinity enough to
keep out the Devil; you may know them to belong to the church by their ruinous faces;
to be kin to one of them is the nearest way to be related to the Founder; And you may
ahvayes see them among the Antiquities of the Coll: they are a sort of Religious reliques,
And their age is Testimony enough of the use of Marryage among Church=men, even in
Primitive times.53
He does not approach a Juvenalian intensity of aggression, but casts the doctors'
wives as dull, religious, college fixtures. Lawrence implies that their age effaces their
sexuality, making them undesirable; age and sex combine however to suggest an
alliance with darker, sybilline powers. It is possible that the doctors' wives are
described in this way because the fact of their marriage to doctors of the university
meant it was no longer appropriate for scholars to regard them as fair game. Here
they are grouped together without any distinguishing features, although it seems that
in other speeches their activities may have been advertised almost as much as those of
the town women. The epilogue to the 1693 speech claims 'Both D1* wives & City
Dames were shown / With all ye Intreagues & scandall of the town'.54
From the doctors' wives Lawrence moves to the townsmen's wives, whom he
introduces as 'a sort of Cattle as dull and as common too as their husbands
Hackneys'; and he follows this up with the obvious joke that the wives may be hired
49
Soc. Antiq. MS 330, f. 33 V .
A similar atmosphere prevails in Rochester's T u n b r i d g e Wells', 11. 151-60 (The Works of John
Wilmot Earl of Rochester ed. Harold Love (Oxford, 1999), pp. 49-54).
51
As we have seen them do with regard to the townsmen and their wives.
52
Bodl. MS Add. A. 3 6 8 , f. 9 V .
53
Ibid. f. 8 r .
Danchin, Prologues and Epilogues, vol. V, p. 127.
50
like horses.55 By making such a statement he reinforces once again the notion, which
is repeated throughout university satire, that the townsmen's wives prefer the sexual
attentions of scholars to those of their husbands. In her analysis of early-modern
slander, Laura Gowing argues that claims of a wife's adultery are 'the most effective
way of defaming men'.56 Even though sexual insult was focussed on women, it
affected the reputation of their husbands as much as themselves, because, in the
common mind, a man was responsible for his wife's chastity. The scholars
participate in this pattern of oblique attack on the townsmen's control over their own
households. They repeatedly suggest that the townsmen are unable to keep the
scholars from their women - or that they have to make a concerted effort to do so.
Smith mentions 'Byrams momfull Nymphs', who are 'watch't & guard like his bags':
a seemingly rare instance of a townsman who has been able to enforce 'a long
virginity' on his daughters.57
The example of Byram also illustrates the way scholars almost always
associate the townswomen, like their husbands, with trades, legitimate and
illegitimate. Lawrence calls the 'better Herrings' among them, 'our Consorts those
Gills of all trades that furnish us wth one sort of ware more then their husbands'.58
Smith, in his 1693 epilogue, says 'Where beauty is ye Traffick of ye shop / The trade
thrives best with windows folded up', and derides 'ye stale Daniels' as 'dated like our
tradesmens-tarnish'd ware'.59 The strong emphasis on buying and selling is an
attempt to distance the scholars from these town women, by implying that any
transactions which may occur are purely commercial, and not the result of any kind of
emotional attachment between people of such different social positions. Lawrence
even suggests that these illicit negotiations are part of the town/university economy,
asking whether 'the buying that [ie. the wives' sexual favours] payes not for the rest
[of the husbands'goods]'.60
Lawrence, like most of the music speakers, devotes a portion of his speech to
discussing particular town girls. He not only identifies these women by their fathers'
55
' j d a side a switch & a spurr & ifaith a very dear bargain' (Bodl. MS Add. A. 368, f. 8V). We have
seen Jeremiah Wells make the same joke in his 'Iter Orientale' (chapter three, above).
" Gowing, Domestic Dangers, pp. 108-9.
57
Danchin, Prologues and Epilogues, vol. V, p. 127. Presumably 'Byram' was an Oxford townsman,
but I have been unable to identify him.
58
B o d l . MS A d d . A. 3 6 8 , f. 8 V .
59
Danchin, Prologues and Epilogues, vol. V, pp. 128-9.
60
Bodl. MS Add. A. 368, f. 8V. For discussions of sexual economies in Restoration London, see Laura
Gowing on 'the economy of whoredom' as it was imagined by early-modem slanderers (Domestic
Dangers, pp. 91-4), Charles H. Hinnant on commerce and sex in Restoration comedy ('Pleasure and
the Political Economy of Consumption in Restoration Comedy 1 , Restoration vol. 19 (1995), pp. 7787), and Melissa Mowry, 'Dressing Up and Dressing Down: Prostitution, Pornography, and the
Seventeenth-Century English Textile Industry', Journal of Women's History vol. 11 (1999), p p . 78103.
182
183
occupations, but caricatures them as products of the townsmen's trades. One is 'a
chandlers greasy daughter that makes use of tallow instead of Pomatum to gett her a
shining countenance'; another, 'a pale girle the creature of a Baker & shee like her
fathers bread is underbaked and wants kneading'; a third, 'the brewers kilderkin . . .
the Venus indeed that rises out of the froth of Potent Ale'; and so on.61 The wit of
these little vignettes lies in the cleverness with which the descriptions of the girls
might be made to fit their fathers' trades, but they are made satirical by allusions to
the girls' activities with members of the university. In almost every case, Lawrence
includes not only a comment about the girls' actions, but the results they supposedly
aim to achieve by dallying with the scholars. For example, the gossip goes that the
baker's daughter (identified in one manuscript as 'Betty Mannering') was expecting
to elope with 'the Bursar of a College . . . but it seems the hot young John had more
witt then to drive this way, & so her cake is dough'. Similarly,
the Book Sellours Daughter a little Octavo . . . hath been often hired out to read in the
sheets, & now hopes to be bound up in Wedlock & covered wth some calve=skin
husband, & to stand for an excellent authoresse in the study of a Country=Parson 62
Lawrence's insistence on the girls' ultimate desire for marriage and his amusement
when their plans fail reflects the general university attitudes to the townspeople. As
we have seen, tension between town and gown at Oxford and Cambridge stemmed
partly from the universities' distrust of the townsmen, whose trades they relied on for
the necessities of life, and who they believed were constantly trying to encroach on
university jurisdictions. Marriage with a scholar would usually be a step up the social
ladder for a town girl. Here, as in other texts, marriage is seen as a trap into which an
unwitting scholar might be led by a scheming girl (or her scheming and encroaching
parent).63 This particular fear was, of course, neither new nor specific to the
universities. However, the repercussions of marriage were far greater in university
society than in the world at large, a situation which seems to have caused a general
scholarly tension about the place of marriage in the university community. Apart
from the heads of houses, married men could not hold fellowships, and could not live
in colleges. This set married men apart from the rest of university society, and to a
certain extent excluded them from the tightly-knit, purely male circles which the
college environment produced. As has been seen, the doctors' wives were regarded
with mockery and suspicion, and this is sometimes transferred to their husbands (as,
for example, when both partners are satirised by the terrae filius).64 Even without
considering their well-known propensities for evil, it is little wonder that women were
6
^ Bodl. MS Add. A. 3 6 8 , ff. 8 v -9 r .
62
Ibid. For marginal identifications of the town girls, see Cardiff Central Libr?-y MS. 1.482, f. 39 rv .
63
See also Club Law, p. 26 (quoted above, p. 117, n. 78).
64
See, for example, Gerard's attacks on Dr. and Mrs. James, and Dr. and Mrs. Pierce (PDP, pp. 46-7
regarded as dangerous by university men, living as they did in a society where illicit
liaisons could lead to scholars being expelled and Fellows being ejected from their
fellowships. Men who defined themselves largely through their academic status had
to reject women not only because they had no place at the university, but, more
importantly, because their presence could lead to the scholar's own exclusion and
consequent loss of identity.65
To combat this, the scholars seem to have developed a policy of knowing their
enemy. Apart from their detailed descriptions of the town women's behaviour, music
speakers often dwell on the physical attributes of the women in their audience.
Lawrence, for example, mentions the ladies' painted faces, then goes on to discuss
their 'black patches', telling them, 'your figures of Swanns & Stan's make every lover
turne Scholar and study his destiny in the Astrology of your countenance'. He tells
them he will say nothing of their 'false Locks' in the hope that they will not mention
his own periwig, then moves on to the fruitful topic of dress. Lawrence shows a
thorough knowledge of ladies' attire, and claims that 'of all your last tranghams, I'me
infinitely taken wth your short Petticoate and broad laces', and makes some
suggestive comments about the usefulness of petticoats and pattens.66 By this
detailed description of female accoutrements Lawrence not only demonstrates his
intimate acquaintance with women's fashion (suggesting a worldliness which may
not have been expected of scholars), but he also shows that he is alert to the ways in
which women attempt to cover their defects and lure men into their toils.
The first section of Richard Torless' 1661 speech performs much the same
function. He claims to be 'at a losse for Titles to accost' the ladies in the audience,
and attempts to supply this loss by running through all the names by which men
salute their lovers. For each title proposed, however, he has a negating response:
'Some call you Deities; sure 'tis because you have so little Humanity; . . . Some call
you their Paradice; sure tis because you have so much of the old Serpent in you. . . .
Some call you their Sun, sure tis because you're so Light'.67 The wit consists of
subverting expectations, discovering an apposite negative for men's favourite
descriptions of women. By doing this, he can undermine masculine ideals of
womanhood and reveal the 'truth' behind elaborate courtly compliments, thus
protecting men from the confusing personas they create for their lovers. Torless
gives some explanation for his speech:
65
Wood recorded a note in 1669 which, though brief, gives some insight into the situation: 'a report
t h a t . . . Yates, neice to Dr. <Thornas> Yates, principal of Brasermose was married to <John> Crosse a
gent. com<moner> of that house: which, if true, a scandall will be brought upon the said Dr. and Coll.'
(Life and Times, vol. II, p. 1/6).
66
Bodl. MS Add. A. 368, ff. 9 v -10 r .
67
Soc. Antiq. MS 330, f. 33r.
184
185
And here I had thought to have drawn a true and lively portraiture of your beauties, and
to have presented it to your selves for a looking-glasse; but I fear if I undertake it myself,
being no great Artist, I should draw it so gastly that you'Id complain in that I had,
instead of drawing you to the Life, executed you in Effigie, therefore I will present you
to your selvs and this judicious assembly, as you are limb'd by your cvwn CourtiVs.68
Using the same deflating technique, he goes on to itemize the women's parts and
undercut the eulogizing language in which they are usually described: 'Some tell you
of the Roses and Lillies of your Cheeks, and Violets of / veins, when their whole
desire is to Deflowre you. . . . Some say / Tresses are snares to catch Hearts in:
Indeed they may passe for troling-lines, and fit to catch such as will swallow a
Gudgeon'.69 Through this process the women are divided into their parts, eyes,
cheeks, lips and so on, and then undergo a process of metamorphosis into other
substances - stars, flowers, coral. It is tempting to see this as a way to control
women's power by dividing and dispersing their bodies, 'Othering' them to the point
at which they cease to be whole or even animate. Torless seems to follow up his
anatomization with a strongly worded negation of this idea, saying 'Thus I have told
you what your Lovers say of you, but I tell you in short you are Flesh and Blood'.
However, this is a short-lived reinstatement of women's incarnation, as he goes on to
accuse them of basting themselves, like a piece of roasting-meat, with 'Pomatum, or
Jessamine Butter', and then concludes that actually butter is 'the fittest Emblem in the
world' for the sex, in its extremes of softness and hardness.70
The purpose of the speech - to strip away the fantasies of 'Courtiers' and
'Lovers' - does not in this case mean a truer picture of women is presented. Instead,
the courtly imagery is replaced by other, less flattering but equally remote,
metaphors. However, in overturning the lovers' emblems to reveal their negative
sides, the scholar complicates matters. Instead of pinning down the truth about
women, he has merely provided further possibilities for masquerade. Now the
women are constantly obscured by a series of shifting images, each of which has a
pleasant and a repellent aspect. It could be argued that the ladies' made-up faces
present the scholars with a similar problem: a painted face is a changeable and
changing face, liable to be smudged, or melted away entirely in hot weather.
Permanence is the key to comprehension, and so Torless sarcastically advises the
Ibid., f.33 v .
69
Ibid. This passage is very similar to a section in Hudibras (Second Part, Canto I, 11. 603-20), in
which the w i d o w abuses m e n w h o woo w o m e n with poetry, repeating several of the metaphors
mentioned by Torless. Like Torless, she undermines the process: she concludes that it is 'done by
some, who those / Th 1 ador'd in Rhime would kick in Prose' (11. 621-2). The Second Part was printed
in November 1663, and probably existed in some form by the end of 1662 {Hudibras, ed. John Wilders
(Oxford, 1967), pp. xlvii and lvi). It is certainly possible that Butler either attended Torless's 1661
speech or saw a manuscript copy; however, the metaphors were commonplaces, and the texts are not
so similar that definite conclusions can be drawn.
70
Soc. Antiq. MS 330, f. 34 r .
ladies 'to mix with yr Paint plaister of Paris, so will yr Beauties be durable, defying
both Sun and worm'.
A sense of women's ambiguity, and the scholars' inability to interpret it, is
encapsulated in Torless' application of his final metaphor: he tells his audience 'You
are like butter, in the Extremes; either you melt in ones mouth at the first touch and
salute, or else are so hard and frozen, that tis impossible to make you Spread'.
Torless' search for an encompassing emblem reflects the scholars' need to
demonstrate that they know women minutely and intimately. This is clearly
illustrated by the 1693 speaker, who tells the ladies that he has 'learn'd Anatomy':
'My knowledge goes beyound extemall beauty / For, Gad, I know you Intus & in
cute'.72 By applying the processes of university-taught (ie. male) scientific methods,
he claims to know the women better than they can know themselves. The attempt to
define women, either by a description of their physical bodies, clothing and
personalities, or by an exhaustive listing of the metaphors used to capture some
aspect of their being, can be seen as the scholars' way of controlling women and
limiting the extent of their power. The scholars' power is discursive: they turn the
women into texts to be read, dissected or argued over, as they habitually treat texts in
the schools.
Further concern with control and boundaries is revealed in the references,
made in several speeches, to the surrounding buildings. Although Lawrence's
prologue suggests the ladies have invaded the university, his and other speeches also
employ imagery in which the women have been metaphorically captured by the
scholars and safely enclosed in the university's usually academic and cloistered
environment. Charles Allestree, in 1679, called the music school 'yon narrow fulsom
box', and likened it to 'ye Stove ye Sweating Tub of Love'.73 July's heat was more
easily escaped in the Sheldonian theatre, where the music speech was delivered for
the first time in 1679. The Sheldonian held particular significance in the minds of the
scholars, as the place set aside for certain university ceremonies. Performances given
at the theatre took on some of this aura, and Anthony Wood complained bitterly when
the music speech was moved back to the music school in 1681.74 Music speakers
continually emphasise the difference between public and private spaces at Oxford.
Langford was probably alluding to the complaints of Wood and others in his 1683
68
7
;
72
Danchin, Prologues and Epilogues, vol. V, p. 125.
Ibid, vol. Ill, p. 179. Danchin notes that the 'sweating tub' was an allusion to 'the usual treatment for
venereal disease' (p. 178); OED ' T u b ' sb lb. Butler also mentions 'Tubs' of this kind in Hudibras
(Second Part, Canto 1,1. 365).
74
The move was ostensibly made because of the damage caused to the Theatre by rowdy audiences,
but W o o d adds 'we all imagined the true reason to be, because he [ie. the speaker for that year] was not
a Ch[rist] Ch[urch] man, and therefore [vice-chancellor Fell] would not allow him the Theatre to grace
him. Grand partiality! 1 {Life and Times, vol. II, pp. 547-8).
73
186
187
prologue '. . . tho some think ye Theater a grace, / Yet the most private is the fittest
place'.75 Smith proclaimed in 1693, Tme told an Oxford act is, / Design'd for
Publick, & for chamber practise'.76 The audience is encouraged to believe that
whatever kind of work might be practiced in the scholar's chamber, it is probably not
of a musical nature.77 This concern with the private chamber and 'closet exercise', is
of course primarily meant to be sexually suggestive.78 However it also adds to the
image of the university (and, to some extent, the town) as a place consisting of
multiple zones. Entry to each new room requires some further degree of initiation,
and the number of boundaries a person is able to cross is a measure of their
acceptance into university society. Author y Cohen discusses boundaries within
communities, arguing that the more intimate and closer to home a boundary is, the
more significant it is for individuals, but the less significant it seems to an outsider.79
For the scholars, the most important boundary is the one between their study and the
rest of the world: thus the ambivalence of their joking invitations for the women to
enter these sanctums. It seems the scholars wish women to believe that their 'fittest
place' is the private "hamber, and that their participation in the public display of a
music lecture is abnormal. However, the only way for women to enter the private
chamber is for sexual activity with the scholars - which the scholars know is unlikely
to take place.
Lawrence delivered his 1669 speech in the music school, which he fancifully
likens to a tournament list, saying
the very contrivance of this Schoole adds much to my amorous desires, it seems to have
been design'd as much for the tryall of Love as Musick, and the place wch containes you
may not unfittly be called Cupids=barriers, where I combat you wth my Tongue & you
run a Tilt at me wth your eyes; Valour & Knight=errantry must redeeme you out of this
enchanted castle, & a man must passe the pikes e're he can come at you.80
Thomas Lessey has added a marginal comment to the effect that the 'enchanted
castle' was 'one end of the School where the Ladies sate which was rail'd in'.81
Lawrence emphasises the combat which goes on between himself and the ladies, and
the spiritual valour required by knights-errant who wish to rescue them. The theme
of capture and combat recurs constantly, finding expression in more than one
comparison between the women and 'the Sabine Ladies'. Henry Thurman claims the
7i
Danchin, Prologues and Epilogues, vol. IV, p. 475.
Ibid., vol. V, p. 124.
77
Also a legal term: the OED defines 'chamber-practice' as 'practice in chambers and not in court'.
78
Laura Gowing has emphasised the extent to which early-modem accusations of sexual misconduct
were supported by notions of privacy - its scarcity in crowded London and the suspicions which arose
when people sought it {Domestic Dangers, pp. 70-72, el passim).
79
Cohen, Symbolic Construction of Community, p. 13.
80
Bodl.MSAdd.A.368,f. ll r .
31
Cardiff Central Library MS 1.482, f. 42V.
16
women are 'as necessary to this act as the Sabine virgins to the Romans when their
state depended upon women'.82 The overtones of the allusion are obvious. Torless
uses the same metaphor, prefacing it with a long complaint about Oxford's lack of
women (something of a locus communis for the scholars). The tensions raised by this
allusion are not wholly effaced by Torless' subsequent claim that 'instead of our
laying hands on you, You take us captives here at home'.83 hi both these metaphors,
though, the scholars make the tension of the situation clear. As well as fighting with
each other over the women, as competitors did in a tournament, the scholars must
contend with the attacks of the women on their freedom. The speakers imply that
these perceived attacks are welcome, as indeed they must be, as proof of the scholars'
desirability and susceptibility to female charms; but they must still be resisted if the
scholars are to retain their freedom and identity.
i
The auditorium, then, is a kind of liminal space. In the minds of the speakers,
it is neither freely public nor wholly private, a place dedicated to a mock-battle, and a
boundary space where two separate peoples meet. As has been noted, the Act itself
occupies a similarly ambiguous space. The particular insistence on the physical place
of women at the music speeches again reflects the scholars' concern about women's
relationship with, or place in, the university. Cohen has suggested that territorial
boundaries play an important part in membership of social groups. Members 'find
their identities as individuals through their occupancy of the community's social
space: if outsiders trespass in that space, then its occupants' own sense of self is felt
to be debased and defaced'.84 By emphasising their status as visitors, or figuratively
confining them to private rooms for the purpose of amusement, the scholars play
down the women's possible status as invaders of male territory, both physical and
mental.
The women's attack on the scholars is insidious. Although the speakers use
the imagery of war and physical combat to describe their reaction to the women's
presence, the effects of the visit are greater on the subconscious level. Torless
contrasts the visitors with the Jewish women in Egypt, claiming that they 'rob us of
our selves, which is more precious to us then Jewels, even our own hearts'.85 Clearly,
the intruders are making an attack on the very identities of those whose ostensible
prisoners they are. This is made all the more difficult for the scholars to resist
because they are, to a certain extent, willing participants in the game. They do not
underestimate the effects of the process, however. Torless continues his theme with
82
Cambridge University Library MS Dd.vi.30, f. 22r.
83
Soc. Antiq. MS 330, f. 35 r .
84
Cohen, Symbolic Construction of Community, p. 109.
5
Soc. Antiq. MS 330, f. 35V. The reference is to the story of Jewish women borrowing their Egyptian
neighbours' treasure and taking it with them during the exodus (Exodus 12:35-6).
188
the claim that the ladies 'spoil our studies for the whole year after' the Act: 'for when
we come again to our Studies, and go about to read, the very Letters conspire to make
up your Names; Thus let us study while we will, we shal sti! be Nomina Philosophers,
but allways / Real Servants5.86 Here, in another instance of their invasion of
academic learning, the women seem to have an occult power over the very letters of
which the scholars' books are composed; and not only do they insinuate themselves
into the texts, but they make it impossible for the scholars to concentrate on their
work. If, as has been argued, the scholars' identity stems from their self-image as
study-inhabiting, learned and lettered men, it must follow that the ladies' influence
has divided them from their true selves. As Torless says, they are now philosophers
in name only, and instead of being masters of the written word, they are the ladies'
servants.
Conclusion
Ultimately, though, the speeches have a mixed message, which reveals more about
the scholars' power than that of the women. The scholars treated the occasion as an
elaborate courtship ritual, directed towards women but played out in the sight of other
males. Their goal was to entrance the women with a display of wit, learning and
musical accomplishment, all the while making suggestive remarks presumably
intended to inflame the ladies' desire. At the same time, they marked out their
territory for the benefit of the visiting London fops and courtiers, characterising
themselves as rakish ladies' men and demonstrating their intimate knowledge of
women in general and Oxford women in particular. Their need to control the women,
both physically and mentally, stemmed from their need to differentiate and distance
themselves from the female in order to retain their identities as men, and as scholars.
Mark Breitenberg has written persuasively about 'masculine anxiety' in early-modern
patriarchal society, arguing that 'masculine subjectivity constmcted and sustained by
a patriarchal culture - infused with patriarchal assumptions about power, privilege,
sexual desire, the body - inevitably engenders varying degrees of anxiety in its male
members'.87 He goes on to discuss the ways in which male early-modern writers
reveal this anxiety in their attempts to control language, knowledge and identity.
Because the primary threat to the construction of the male self is woman, many of his
arguments can be applied to the music speeches. However, Breitenberg also points
out that
members and by the constraint of others . . . it follows that those individuals whose
identities are formed by the assumption of their own privilege must also have
incorporated varying degrees of anxiety about the preservation or potential loss of that
privilege.88
It is this situation which fuels much erudite satire. While early-modem academics
feel some of the masculine anxiety detailed by Breitenberg, it is possible that they
feel even more ^ixiety about their place as eruditi. Learning and knowledge were
forms of power that were distributed unequally in the seventeenth century. Although
there is little sense in which knowledge can be taken away, as power can be,
nevertheless it is obvious that the possession of knowledge, or the possession of the
means to knowledge, is a privilege which must be guarded by those who have it.
This explains the scholars' preoccupation with boundaries within the university - not
only are they concerned with their own ability to cross into new territory, but they
also try to ensure that no-one can follow them. Their attempt to know women
thoroughly by a minute description is a demonstration of the scholars' reliance on
their own power of objective knowledge. This is contrasted with the women's power,
which is mysterious or supernatural, stemming from their physical natures rather than
their intelligence. The scholars' defence of academic learning in the face of
subversive female power is accomplished more completely through the women's
presence on the scholars' home ground. The university men are able to see the
women's reactions to their raillery, reinforcing their dominant position for the benefit
of themselves and their colleagues. In a strong subtext the scholars attempt to place
limits on the ways women can enter the university, with the message that affairs are
acceptable, but academic learning is only for men. In marking these boundaries, the
scholars reveal the ambivalence in their relationship with the ladies, and their concern
about the ladies' presence at Oxford.
any social system whose premise is the unequal distribution of power and authority
always and only sustains itself in constant defense of die privileges of some of its
86
87
Ibid.
Mark Breitenberg, Anxious Masculinity in Early Modern England (Cambridge, 1996), p. 1.
88
190
191
Ultimately, though, the field of satire was left in the hands of the old guard, while the
new eruditi went about their work. I will conclude this discussion with some
comments about why the new eruditi no longer chose satire as a way to impose their
own cultural standards on others.
7. Satires against erudition
Jeremy. Sir, I have the Seeds of Rhetorick and Oratory in my Head - I have been at
Cambridge.
Tattle. Ay; 'tis well enough for a Servant to be bred at an University: But the Education
is a little too pedantick for a Gentleman.1
The influence of 'town' literary culture on university satirists such as the terrae filii
and music speakers reflected a gradual shift in university culture during the Restoration. Rather than setting the standards for learning, university men began to align
themselves with the 'polite' standards of the town to a much greater extent. This led
to the paradoxical situation, most recognisably played out in the controversy over the
Epistles of Phalaris, in which university satirists, in this case the Christ Church wits,
attacked Richard Bentley, the most truly erudite English scholar of the age, for his
display of learning.2 A similar spirit motivated attacks on the new philosophy
embodied by the Royal Society. In both cases, a new type of learning was being
assessed and criticised by men who were extremely learned themselves, in the
tradition of Renaissance humanism. As this chapter demonstrates, their satires attack
the/o/v;* of the new erudition, rather than its substance. They are concerned with the
uses to which virtuosi and classical philologists put their insights into the natural and
textual worlds. Underlying this is a concern about the social status of the men who
practise new types of erudition. This manifested itself in a continual emphasis on
personalities, and on the networks of relationships which existed within overlapping
and interlocking republics of letters in the early-modern world.
The new ernditi employed a variety of defensive measures against these
attacks. However, satire v/as generally not included amongst their weapons. Bentley
played with the Christ Church wits at their own game, sniping at them intermittently
in his monumental works of textual analysis, and scoring some hits in the process
1
2
William Congreve, Love for Love (1695), V.i. 184-8.
Bentley and the Battle will be discussed more fully below.
5I>»?viG3C7?,IT73
Caricatures of the learned
Attacks on learning and the learned were, of course, not limited to the late
seventeenth century. The figure of the scholarly pedant was a familiar one in earlymodem literature, where he was the target of mockery for his lack of social skills,
tedious conversation, and inability to relate to the world outside his books.3 The
antiquarian was another character whose consuming interest in ancient artefacts
distracted him from the realities of his own existence.4 Later in the century, the
virtuoso became a character similarly maligned for obsessive interest in nasty or
insignificant natural phenomena, usually coupled with a disdain for practical
outcomes to his investigations. Shadwell's play The Virtuoso (London, 1676)
demonstrates this, as do Butler's character 'A Virtuoso', King's dialogue 'Modem
Learning', and Swift's Grand Academy of Lagado in Gulliver's Travels.5 All attack
the virtuosi's ignorance of practical matters, and their idle, costly and ultimately
futile investigations into natural phenomena.
The common characteristic of all these figures was their inability to suit their
learning to the demands of society - if their learning was not inherently useless, it
was rendered useless by its practitioners' blindness to the customs of society. At the
same time, the practitioners themselves were rendered useless, and turned into
objects of derision. Enthusiasms of any kind are easy to stereotype and satirise:
many of Butler's and other writers' Characters exploit individual idiosyncracies.6
The reality of the learned life was, of course, much more complex. A more rounded
satirical representation needed to take into account the ways in which erudite
individuals interacted with each other and constructed their research programs, as
well as the outcomes of their investigations.
3
Richard Sheppard discusses traditional negative stereotypes of the scholar in 'From Narragonia to
Elysium: Some Preliminary Reflections on the Fictional Image of the Academic' in University Fiction
ed. David Bevan (Amsterdam, 1990), pp. 11-48.
4
See, for example, Samuel Butler's 'An Antiquary' (Characters, pp. 76-8), John Earle's 'An
Antiquarie' (The Autograph Manuscript of Microcosmographie (Leeds, 196*), pp. 26-30), and
Veterano in Shackerly Marmion's play, The Antiquary (London, 1641).
5
Butler, Characters, pp. 121-124; William King, Dialogues of the Dead (London, 1699), pp. 52-67;
Swift, Gulliver's Travels ed. Herbert Davis (Oxford, 1965), pp. 179-92. Walter E. Houghton, Jr, gives
a useful summary of the idea of the virtuoso in 'The English Virtuoso in the Seventeenth Century:
Part I', Journal of the History of Ideas vol. 3 (1942), pp. 51-73.
6
Blanford Parker notes that Butler is 'fascinated by the notion of a person with a single motivation'
(The Triumph of Augustan Poetics: English Literar}> Culture from Butler to Johnson (Cambridge,
1998), p. 31 n) This can be seen very clearly in the Prose Observations.
192
The Royal Society
The Royal Society of London was founded in 1660, and given a charter of
incorporation in 1662 by Charles II. Michael Hunter quotes Nathanial Fairfax, who
called the Society 'a body form'd to that end [conducting experimental philosophy]
as much as the Universityes ar for Scholars, the Inns of Court for Lawyers, Cityes &
Towns for Merchants & Craftsmen'.7 In its institutional form, however, it was quite
different from anything else in England at the time.8 Its organisational structure was
deliberately non-hierarchical, and it was (allegedly) open to all interested men,
regardless of their background. Members chose to investigate a vast variety of
phenomena, many of which had never before been deemed woithy of study. It was
difficult for some outsiders to understand the importance of these projects. Others
suspected that the new philosophy would present a threat to established religion. The
newly-formed society found its motivations and actions attacked by serious and
mock" :g detractors.9 It was to counter some of these attacks that Thomas Sprat was
commissioned to write the History of the Royal Society, first published in 1667.
Sprat's defensive tone is apparent throughout the Histoiy, called forth, as the
author says in his 'Advertisement to the Reader', by 'the detractors of so noble an
Institution: For their Objections and Cavils against it, did make it necessary . . . to
write of it, not altogether in the way of a plain History, but somtimes of an
Apology'.10 Later, Sprat seems to suggest that his History is more than a simple
apology: it is also intended as a blueprint for the future of the Society. He claims
that 'by laving down, on what course of Discovery they intend to proceed, the
Gentlemen of the Society, may be more solemnly engag'd, to prosecute the same'.11
Hunter argues that the Society, as a newly-formed and indeed new type of institution,
felt that it needed to develop and publish some kind of corporate ideology which
would elicit support from the general public (or at least allay their fears).12 This
being the case, the model Sprat chose to lay down was strongly influenced by his
(and the whole Society's) perception of criticisms aimed at the Society. Sprat argues
7
Fairfax to Henry Oldenburg, 28 Sept. 1667, in The Correspondence of Henry Oldenburg ed. A.
Rupert Hall and Marie Boas Hall, 9 vols. (Madison, Milwaukee and London, 1965-1973), vol. Ill,
p. 492; quoted in Michael Hunter, Establishing the New Science: the Experience of the Early Royr.l
Society (Woodbridge, Suffolk, 1989), pp. 2-3.
' Hunter emphasises the Royal Society's novelty as an institution (Establishing the New Science, p. 1).
9
R. H. Syfret gives a comprehensive overview of the Royal Society's detractors in 'Some Early
Reactions to the Royal Society', Notes and Records of the Royal Society of London vol. 7 (1949),
pp. 207-258).
Thomas Sprat, Histoiy of the Royal Society ed. Jackson I. Cope and Harold Whitmore Jones (St.
Louis and London, 1959; repr. 1966), sig. B4V.
193
that experimental philosophy will be of advantage 'to the wonted Courses of
Education', to the Principles, and instruction of the minds of Men in general; to the
Christian Religion, to the Church of England; to all Manual Trades; to Physic; to the
Nobility, and Gentry; and the Universal Interest of the whole Kingdom'.13 In
composing this comprehensive list, Sprat refuted critics who claimed that the new
philosophy would harm precisely these institutions. To the extent that the Society's
institutional identity was bound up with Sprat's written record of its history, then, it
could be argued that during its formative years that identity was shaped by its
detractors. With this in mind, I will discuss some of the attacks made on the Society
by erudite satirists, and the specific accusations they make about the workings of this
new intellectual institution.
Recently there has been renewed academic interest in the origins and
development of the Royal Society of London. Investigations into a variety of topics
have revealed new insights into the ways in which the Society and its members used
language to further their aims: Steven Shapin and Simon Shaffer examine the
linguistic practices instigated by experimental philosophers; Adrian Johns discusses
their successes and failures in using print to authenticate texts; Frans De Bruyn
investigates the links between classical form and new philosophical content; and
Robert Stiilman situates the quest for a universal language in the wider field of
cultural politics.14 Though their specific concerns differ, these authors all point to
the distinctly self-conscious and deliberately constructed nature of early Royal
Society writing. Despite the Society's plans to, as Sprat famously put it, 'reject all
the amplifications, digressions, and swellings of style: to return back to the primitive
purity, and shortness, when men deliver'd so many things, almost in an equal number
of words', they found that their activities required explanations, and explanations
required rhetoric.15
It is interesting that, among the many academic voices discussing the Royal
Society's rhetorical strategies, few pay much attention to contemporary satirical
voices of dissent. The anti-Royal Society faction is generally represented by Henry
Stubbe, and there is no doubt that he was the new philosophers' most vocal opponent
13
Sprat, Histoiy, pp. 322-3.
Steven Shapin and Simon Shaffer, Leviathan and the Air-Pump: Hobbes, Boyle, and the
Experimental Life (Princeton, 1985); Adrian Johns, 'Pii-acy and Usurpation' in The Nature of the
Book: Print and Knowledge in the Making (Chicago and London, 1998); Frans De Bruyn, 'The
Classical Silva and the Generic Development of Scientific Writing in Seventeenth-Century England',
New Literary Histoiy vol. 32 (2001), pp. 347-373; Robert E. Stiilman, The New Philosophy and
Universal Languages in Seventeenth-centuiy England: Bacon, Hobbes, and Wilkins (Lewisburg,
1995).
15
Sprat, Histoiy, p. 113. Investigation into the Royal Society's attitude towards language and rhetoric
is, of course, not new: Brian Vickers offers a reappraisal of important earlier work in 'The Royal
Society and English Prose Style: A Reassessment' in Rhetoric and the Pursuit of Truth: Language
Change in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries (Los Angeles, 1985).
14
it
194
in serious printed works.16 However, satirical responses to the Royal Society often
articulate the same anxieties, albeit in mocking language. Sprat took the 'Wits and
Railleurs' seriously enough to placate them in his Histoiy, and Robert Boyle
complained about them in his own work.17 In contemporary eyes, then, the wits were
making a sustained satirical attack on the Royal Society. A discussion of the Royal
Society's rhetorical response to its attackers must therefore include an analysis of the
attacks themselves, and the grounds on which they were made. I will argue that
Samuel Butler and William King attacked the Royal Society specifically in terms of
its own propaganda. In particular, they refuted claims made by Sprat about the new
philosophers' interaction with one another (which Shapin and Schaffer have argued
was closely allied to their experimental program) and their use of language in key
Society-sponsored publications.
As Hunter points out, the erudite satirists who attacked the Royal Society
were taking part in a wider, ongoing, debate about the uses of learning. It is falsely
reductive, though, to claim that this debate saw university men ranged against
experimental philosophers in a fight over intellectual territory.18 As we have seen,
the universities could (and did) produce blistering coiporate assaults on men or
institutions whose actions they disliked. It is not clear that this ever happened in the
case of the Royal Society.19 Their well-known opponent Henry Stubbe was educated
at Oxford and retained associations with powerful university men. However, Stubbe
does not speak primarily as a university man in his attacks on the Royal Society and
its members. In the Preface to Legends No Histories (his first reply to Sprat's
Histoiy) he positions himself as a physician defending the utility of old remedies
16
Syfret has discussed Stubbe's various attacks on the Royal Society in 'Some EarN >"Miics of the
Royal Society', Notes and Records of the Royal Society of London vol. 8 (1950), pp. 20-64. James
Jacob. Henry Stubbe, Radical Protestantism and the Early Enlightenment (Cambridge, 1983) presents
a more recent analysis cf Stubbed involvement with the Royal Society.
17
Sprat, Histoiy, pp. 417-419: Boyle, 'Some Considerations Touching the Style of the Holy
Scriptures' in The Works of the Honourable Robert Boyle in Six Volumes ed. Thomas Birch, 6 vols.
(London, 1772), vol. II, pp. 303-5.
18
Hunter, Science and Society in Restoration England (Cambridge and New York.. 1981), pp. 145-7;
Syfret, 'Some Early Reactions', p. 220. Syfret emphasise s the divisions between the universities and
Royal Society (pp. 220-228).
19
Robert South's long-remembered speech at the opening of the Sheldonian Theatre in 1669 was
reported to have been strongly anti-Royal Society by John Wallis, who was himself a Fellow (see his
letter to Robert Boyle, July 17, 1669, in Works ed. Birch, vol. VI, p. 459; see also Correspondence of
Henry Oldenburg, vol. VI, p. 137). Isaac Disraeli quotes South as saying 'Mirantur nihil nisi pulices,
pediculos, et seipsos' - 'They can admire nothing except fleas, lice, and themselves!' (Calamities and
Quarrels of Authors (London, [1881]), p. 342). However, no copies of the *ull speech have been
located, so it is difficult to comment on whether or not South characterised his attack as a corporate
response to the Royal Society. Larry Stewart quotes a Westminster Abbey sermon of South's, in
which he attacked the new philosophers as 'a kind of diabolical society' (Robert South,, "Die Practise
of Religion Enforced by Reason' in Sermons Preached upon Several Occasions (Oxford, 1823),
vol. 1, pp. 373-5; quoted in Stewart, The Rise of Public Science: Rhetoric, Technology, and Natural
Philosophy in Newtonian Britain, 1660-1750 (Cambridge, 1992), p. 6).
195
against the innovations of the new philosophers. He would not interfere, he claims,
except that natural philosophy's threats to iPhysick\ 'Religion' and 'Education'
made it his patriotic duty to point out its exponents' errors.20 Although Stubbe
claimed to be only a moderate follower of Aristotle, he supported another Oxford
graduate and a committed Aristotelian, Robert Crosse, in his dispute with Glanvill.
Crosse was a puritanically-minded Somerset divine who argued that setting Aristotle
aside would lead to atheism and popery.21
Both Stubbe and Crosse were living away from Oxford when they wrote their
attacks on the new philosophy.22 It remains to be asked whether an attack on
Aristotelian philosophy would necessarily have been equated with an attack on the
universities by their Restoration-period members. As Feingold has shown, the
English universities of the Restoration were no longer the havens of scholasticism
they had once been.23 Aristotle was still highly regarded by some, but debate over
his relevance was nothing new.24 Attacks on Aristotelianism may simply have
reinforced existing philosophical divisions within the universities.
I would argue, then, that antagonism between the universities as a body and
the Royal Society was actually much less widespread than Sprat's suggestions, and
later historians, have made it. Despite the rumoured dislike of the experimental
philosophers by such powerful university figures as Dr. John Fell, Vice-chancellor of
Oxford, attacks by university men were the work of a few individuals who made
little or no effort to ground themselves within, or attribute their opinions to, a wider
institution. This may have been because the group which would eventually become
the core of the Royal Society had been closely linked with Oxford for many years,
and still retained several members who were prominent university men. However, it
seems more likely that the Royal Society was simply not seen as a threat by the
majority of university men. Although their program, according to Sprat, included the
reformation of language and learning, in reality they impinged rather less on the
universities than their aims might suggest. Based as they were in London, and
strongly identified with London in their own and their contemporaries' minds, the
virtuosi inhabited a physical sphere that was distant, and a cultural territory that was
~° Stubbe, Legends no Histories: or a Specimen of some Animadversions upon the Histoiy of the Royal
Society (London, 1670), sig. *2r.
21
Jacob, Hemy Stubbe, pp. 79-S4. Disraeli gives a lively account of Crosse's involvement with
Glanvill in Calamities and Quarrels (pp. 344-346).
22
Though Crosse apparently distributed ballads at Oxford against Glanvill: Clark notes the existence
of "a satyrical ballad on a dispute between "Mr. Robert Cross, rector of Bishop's Chew by Bath, and
John Glanvill, rector of Bath; anno 1668'" (Wood, Life and Times, vol. II, p. 2S3n).
23
Feingold, 'Humanities', pp. 212-13 et passim.
~" Stephen Menn discusses the rise of new philosophies in the Renaissance and seventeenth century
and their relation to Aristotelianism in 'The Intellecaial Setting' in The Cambridge History of
Seventeenth-century Philosophy ed. Daniel Garber and Michael Ayers with Roger Ariew and Alan
Gabbey, 2 vols. (Cambridge, 1998), pp. 33-86.
197
196
in many ways markedly different, from that of university men.25 As we have seen,
the universities were really only roused en masse by incursions onto their own
territory, whether physical or intellectual.26 It seems that the Fellows of the Royal
Society remained distant enough from the workings of the universities to be
protected from some types of criticism.
There is also the possibility that its erudite contemporaries did not view the
early Royal Society as the significant and powerful institution its Fellows believed or
wished it to be (or as later historians have tended to see it). As Hunter and others
have shown, various crises plagued the Society during the Restoration, including a
lack of direction in its research program and a decline in the enthusiasm of members.
The Philosophical Transactions suffered from several intermissions in publication.
Schemes for building a college for the Society came to nothing owing to the
difficulty of raising funds.28 Even the king, whose patronage of the Society Sprat
made much of in his History, was not above a joke at the Fellows' expense.29 It
would not have been surprising, then, if much early suspicion about the Society on
the universities' part was allayed by its seeming lack of activity, and the reluctance
of powerful courtiers to take more than a polite (but generally non-financial) interest
in its endeavours.
25
In particular, the mathematicians Wallis, Barrow and Newton remained based at the universities
during the early years of the Society. We have seen in the previous chapter that Wallis was regarded
with respect but slight suspicion at Oxford (at least by the teirae filii, who characterised him as an
outcast). Early satirists such as Butler and King were preoccupied with the experimental side of the
new philosophy, identified primarily with Boyle and Hooke, who was also among the targets of
Shadwell's The Virtuoso.
26
Wood noted in 1660: 'The Royall Societie instituted this yeare - the Universitie look upon it as
obnoxious; they desire to conferr degrees; the Uuiversitie sticke against <this>. <Henry> Stubs writes
against them; Dr. <John> Fell favours him' (Life and Times, vol. I, p. 354). Wood explicitly links the
university's disfavor with the Royal Society's desire to confer degrees. The fact that this plan never
eventuated (if indeed it was seriously contemplated at their inception) may go some way towards
explaining the universities' subsequent toleration of the Royal Society. Syfret has also noted the
refusal by Peter Gunning at Cambridge in 1669 'to grant Peter du Moulin a licence to print his poems
unless he omitted one of them, which was in praise of the Royal Society' ('Some Early Reactions',
p. 220).
Adrian Johns has shown how the Society's incursion onto another field of endeavour met with a
vigorous reaction: most of the Fellows' attempts at regulating their own printed material were either
undermined or completely foiled by the machinations of the Stationers' company ('Piracy and
Usurpation', passim).
28
Hunter, Establishing the New Science, chapters three and five (passim); Adrian Jolrns,
'Miscellaneous Methods: Authors, Societies and Journals in Early Modern England', British Journal
for the Histoiy of Science vol. 33 (2000), pp. 159-168.
29
Pepys records that Charles 'mightily laughed' at the Society 'for spending time only in weighing of
ayre, and doing nothing else since ihey sat' (The Diaiy of Samuel Pepys ed. Robert Latham and
William Matthews (London, 1971), vol. V, p. 33 (1 Feb. 1664)).
The Phalaris controversy
Compared with the Royal Society's philosophical revolution, the erudition displayed
by Bentley and his philological colleagues was less obviously novel. After all,
scholars had always been interested in texts of one kind or another. However, the
new philologists came under just as severe scrutiny as the new philosophers. The
dispute between the Ancients and Moderns in England has been well-documented,
and it will be unnecessary to give a detailed account here.30 The controversy over
the Epistles of Phalaris, which provoked most of the satirical attacks on Bentley and
his supporters, began as a side-issue to the main argument between Sir William
Temple and William Wotton over the extent to which modem accomplishments
could be said to rival ancient ones. In true academic style, however, neither side was
willing to accept defeat by remaining silent in the face of provocation, and response
followed erudite response.
Their tenacity suggests the affair had a deeper significance than mere pointscoring. As Joseph Levine has demonstrated, differences of opinion between
'Ancients' and 'Modems' were hardly ever clear-cut. Most of the protagonists
identified as Modem did in fact respect and admire the works of classical authors,
and some of the Ancients were at least interested in (if somewhat suspicious of) the
new philosophy.31 However, though they might agree on the value of classical
literature, they clearly differed in their attitudes towards its proper function.
Literature became the most hotly-contested ground because it was the cultural
heritage of wits and philologists alike, and thus was extremely important to all
participants. It was in the interests of both groups to claim classical literature as their
territory because it was central to their identities. It provided a template for the
version of literaiy production and polite Augustan conduct espoused by university
wits and gentlemen of the town, and it was the foundation of the philologists'
studies. As we will see, the struggle to claim ancient literature for polite or scholarly
uses respectively gave rise to much of the satire associated with the controversy.
Sir William Temple's praise of the Epistles of Phalaris, in his Essay on the
Ancient and Modern Learning, demonstrates the basis for his esteem of the Ancients.
30
The most recent major work, Joseph Levine's The Battle of the Books: Histoiy and Literature in the
Augustan Age (Ithaca and London, 1991), gives a comprehensive account - though David Money has
pointed out some minor inaccuracies (English Horace, p. 77). See also C. O. Brink, English Classical
Scholarship: Historical Reflections on Bentley, Poison and Housman (Cambridge, 1986).
William Wotton thought the ancients were superior in literature, and Sir William Temple
acknowledged modern contributions to drama (Levine, Battle of the Books, pp. 19, 35-6). David Engel
notes that John Freind, one of the Christ Church wits, became a Fellow of the Royal College of
Physicians and supported Boyle's theories on chemistry (The Ingenious Dr. King': the Life and
Works of Dr William King (1663-1712), with Particular Reference to the Tradition of Menippean
Satire (unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, University of Edinburgh, 1989), p. 81). For Samuel Butler's
interest in experimental philosophy, see below.
198
199
Here he argues that the Epistles could not have been written by Lucian, as some had
both sides of the issue, and had not made a final judgement.38 Both, however, had
endorsed them enthusiastically on stylistic grounds, and Bentley attacked the texts
there as well. As part of his (characteristically vehement) argument, he calls the
Epistles
suggested, on the grounds that
such diversity of Passions, upon such variety of Actions, and Passages of Life and
Government, such Freedom of Thought, such Boldness of Expression, such Bounty to
his Friends, such Scorn of his Enemies, such Honor of Learned Men, such Esteem of
Good, such Knowledg of Life, such Contempt of Death, with such Fierceness of Nature
and Cruelty of Revenge could never he represented, hut by him that possessed them;
and I esteerr Lucian to have been no more Capable of Writing, than of Acting what
Phalam did. In all one Writ, you find the Scholar or the Sophist, and in all the other,
the Tyrant and the Commander.32
The attributes that seemed, in Temple's opinion, so essentially expressive of 'the
Tyrant and the Commander' that they could not have been written by a mere scholar,
were precisely those for which he valued the texts so highly. In reading such texts,
Temple implied, men could gain the same knowledge of life or contempt for death
that Phalaris had known: in other words, classical texts could function as a guide to
action in the contemporary world of affairs.
Presumably, it was this attitude which induced Dr. Henry Aldrich, Dean of
Christ Church, to instigate a new edition of the Epistles. It was the annual custom
for the Dean to select one of the younger Christ Church scholars to edit a text for
publication, which the Dean would then distribute as a New Year's gift. Charles
Boyle's edition appeared as Phalaridis Agrigentinorum Tyranni Epistolae (Oxford,
1695), with Latin translation, and a preface in which Boyle remarked, ironically, on
Bentley's 'singular.humanity'.33 The insult referred to Bentley's seeming reluctance
to lend a manuscript from the King's Library, of which he was the librarian, for
collation.34 The phrase, and the reflection on his character, would dog Bentley
throughout the controversy.35
Having been drawn into the conflict this way, Bentley responded with A
Dissertation upon the Epistles of Phalaris, Themistocles, Socrutes, Euripides, and
Others; and the Fables of Aesop, published in 1697.36 The treatise attempted to
demonstrate that these works were inauthentic, a position he had argued previously,
though not in print.37 However, in doing so, he made no distinctions between the
various positions held by his opponents. It was Temple who had insisted on the
Epistles' authenticity; Boyle had listed the opinions of previous commentators on
a fardle of Common Places, without any life or spirit from Action and Circumstance.
Do but cast your eye upon Cicero's Letters, or any Statesman's, as Phalaris was: what
lively characters of Men there! what descriptions of Place! what notifications of Time!
what particularity of Circumstances! what multiplicity of Designs and Events! When
you return to these again, you feel, by the emptiness and deadness of them, that you
converse witlt some dreaming Pedant with his elbow on his desk; not with an active,
ambitious Tyrant, with his Hand on his Sword, commanding a Million of Subjects.39
It was no wonder that Temple, Boyle, and the rest of the Christ Church men saw
these lines as a slight on their critical capacity, and an impolite and vigorous negation
of Temple's opinion. Bentley praised Cicero's letters in the same fashion that
Temple had praised the spurious Epistles - on the grounds of their lively descriptions
of men and events. It must have been particularly galling to Temple, himself a
statesman, to have been thus criticised by Bentley, the living incarnation of his own
'dreaming Pedant with his elbow on his desk' (at least in the eyes of Temple and his
friends).
A response was necessary. As Levine points out, instead of addressing his
remarks to Boyle, Bentley had 'preferred to speak in plural of "the late learned
editors'", which implicated Boyle's tutors Francis Atterbury and John Freind as well
as Aldrich.40 In his life of Francis Atterbury, Macaulay characterised Christ Church
men of the day as 'dominant at Oxford, powerful in the Inns of Court and in the
College of Physicians, conspicuous in Parliament and in the literary and fashionable
circles of London'. In his opinion, their strong sense of collegial identity made it
impossible for the Christ Church men to ignore Bentley's aspersions.41 Though it
was published under his name, Boyle seems to have contributed little or nothing to
Dr. Bentley's Dissertations on the Epistles of Phalaris and the Fables of Aesop
Examin 'd (1698). The club of Clmst Church cronies responsible was led by Francis
Atterbury, and probably included George Smalridge, Anthony Alsop, John and
Robert Freind, and William King.42 As Levine has pointed out, all had been
educated at Westminster under the famous Busby. However, their classical training,
32
Sir William Temple, 'An 'iissfc.y upon the Ancient and Modern Learning' in Miscellanea, the Second
Part (London, 1690), p. 61.
33
Boyle, Phalaridis Epistolae (Oxford, 1695), sig. A4V.
34
The details are well-known. Monk's description of events vindicates Bentley and blames the
bookseller, Thomas Bennet (Life of Bentley, vol. I, pp. 65-70).
35
See below, p. 229.
36
Bentley's Dissertation was printed with the second edition of William Wotton's own response to
Temple, Reflections upon Ancient and Modern Learning (London, 1697).
37
Levine, Battle of the Books, p. 48.
38
Ibid., p. 52. Boyle makes this point in the Preface of Dr. Bentley's Dissertations on the Epistles of
Phalaris and the Fables of Aesop Examin 'd (London, 1698), sig. A3 r .
39
Bentley, Dissertation upon the Epistles of Phalaris, pp. 62-3.
40
Levine, Battle of the Books, p. 53; Bentley, Dissertation upon the Epistles of Phalaris, pp. 22, 68-9,
et passim.
41
Macaulay, 'Francis Atterbury' in The Life and Works of Lord Macaulay, 10 vols. (London, New
York and Bombay, 1897), vol. VII, p. 286.
42
Levine, Battle of the Books, pp. 59ff; Money, English Horace, p. 78; Engel, Ingenious Dr King,
pp. 28-9.
201
200
while broad, was not profound.43 It is difficult to gauge the extent to which the
Christ Church wits believed they were 'right', in a scholarly sense, in their response
to Bentley's Dissertation. Certainly, as several historians have commented, 'Boyle
against Bentley' (as their response came to be known) was seen by contemporaries as
a blow from which Bentley was unlikely to recover.44 While Atterbury and company
made some show of refuting Bentley's assertions on scholarly grounds, their chief
weapon was wit, and an appealing prose style. It was at this point that the
controversialists turned to satire, mainly attacking Bentley's character and the
ungentlemanly uses to which he put his learning.
Following this, Bentley's philological objections to the letters were detailed
at much greater length in A Dissertation upon the Epistles of Phalaris, with an
Answer to the Objections of the Honourable Charles Boyle (London, 1699). As in
his earlier dissertation, his attacks on the Epistles rested on such seeminglyinsignificant grounds as the ancient writer's anachronistic use of place-names and the
denominations of coinage, his use of the Attic rather than Doric dialect, and
references to people, places and things which had not existed until some time after
Phalaris's despotic reign. Like the experimental philosophers and their obsession
with fleas and lice, it was Bentley's attention to these scholarly minutiae which
revolted the men of taste and judgement. They read the classical authors for precepts
on how to live a gentlemanly, philosophical life, or the proper way to interact with
one's fellows - and, in some cases, advice on practical matters such as agriculture
and architecture. The Ancients were useful, their supporters believed, as living
authors, not as dusty texts to be eternally pored over, collated, emended, commented
on, and finally denounced as spurious. This basic epistemological divide, which
critics argue reflects two diverging strands of humanism itself, lay at the root of the
satirical exchanges which enlivened the controversy.45
was in reality shallow compared with the erudition of men such as Wotton and
Benlley. And while satirists such as William King and Samuel Butler showed an
interest in and appreciation of the new observational philosophy, their attitudes were
very different from practitioners such as Robert Boyle, Robert Hooke, and Sir Hans
Sloane. Throughout their satires they emphasise their commitment to 'useful'
learning. They reinforce the idea that common sense, morality and politeness are
important outcomes of education, and demonstrate the ways in which eruditi fail to
live up to their own standards in each of these areas. Part of the paradox of these
satires against the new eruditi is that they use a style which draws upon the traditions
of erudite satire. As they had often done in the past, satirists argue about the nature
and function of learning, and demonstrate models of behaviour for learned men in
their relationships with each other and society.
Samuel Butler: truth and audience participation
In his recent discussion of Augustan poetics, Blanford Parker calls Samuel Butler
'the most subtle expositor of the scholarly minutiae of his age', whose works are
'imbued with the spirit of fanciful Baroque erudition'. David Hume called Hudibras
'perhaps one of the most learned compositions, that is to be found in any language'.46
Butler's biography is uncertain: it appears that he was educated at King's School,
Worcester, but there is no record of his matriculation at either university. After early
employment as a clerk and with the Countess of Kent, he lodged in Holborn and
began writing Hudibras. During this time he had some connection with Gray's Lin
and the lawyers, and possibly studied the Common Law. Later he was employed by
the second Duke of Buckingham, where his circle included Thomas Sprat and Martin
Clifford, along with both of whom he was supposed to have contributed to
Buckingham's play, The Rehearsal (1671). His final years were spent in London,
47
The satirical response
The Augustan satirists attacked the new eruditi on similar grounds to those expressed
in earlier caricatures. Though they themselves professed a veneration for the
Ancients, they characterised their own learning in an entirely different manner from
that of the eruditi they attacked. Their learning, though grounded in ancient texts,
Levine, Battle of the Books, pp. 54-6. Macaulay calls their learning 'superficial', and remarks 'there
was not then in the college a single man capable of distinguishing between the infancy and the dotage
of Greek literature' ('Francis Atterbury', p. 285).
44
Sandys, Histoiy of Classical Scholarship, vol. II, p. 405; Macaulay, 'Francis Atterbury', pp. 286-7.
John F. Tinkler, citing Levine and Anthony Grafton, discusses the divergent tendencies in
humanism in 'The Splitting of Humanism: Bentley, Swift, and the English Battle of the Books',
Journal of the Histoiy of Ideas vol. 49 (1988), pp. 453-72.
where he kept company with Thomas Shadwell and John Aubrey.
From this
description, it is immediately obvious that Butler's erudition was of a different sort
from that of the university-based writers previously discussed. While it was
necessarily based on wide reading, it was not influenced by the residual
scholasticism of the universities (which Butler attacks repeatedly in his Prose
Observations). His friendship with Aubrey, and an earlier connection with John
Selden, brought him into contact with antiquarians. EW> parodic use of legal
46
Parker, Triumph of Augustan Poetics, p. 25; David Hume, The Hisrory sf England, from the
Invasion of Julius Caesar to the Revolution in 1688, 8 vols. (London, 1763), vol. VIII, p. 326.
Parker's comments must be taken in the context of his ensuing argument, which is that Butler's
erudition in Hudibras was parodic, used to attack what he saw as an outdated learning of the former
age.
47
Hudibras ed. Wilders, pp. xiii-xxi.
202
203
language and mockery of lawyers demonstrate his knowledge of the common law
and the everyday life of the legal profession. His cameraderie with a club of London
wits put him in a social milieu much closer to that of the town and court than the
academy.
Butler's erudition not only sprang from different sources than that of the
university satirists, but was put to different uses. Butler is scathing about
scholasticism: he comments that 'there is nothing that is render'd so much the Cause
of Ignorance, Error and Nonsense as School distinctions', and '[t]he more Regular,
and Formall Disputes are, they are Commonly the more impertinent and Ridiculous
. .. For Scholastical Disputes do Commonly lay by the Question, and scuffle about
the Ai1 of Logique'.48 He discounts the authority of Aristotle and the other ancients
'in the Affayres of Truth' by comparing truth with currency, which has an innate
value not conferred by the giver. For him, the point of knowledge is 'to understand
what is Fit to be don' - a utilitarianism which seems to accord with that of the Royal
Society, except that it is oriented more towards moral than physical action.49 If he
was not a defender of Aristotelianism but a supporter of useful knowledge, we must
ask why he made such sustained attacks on the Royal Society. Parker argues that in
Hudibras Butler, as an early Augustan, moved 'from controversy toward total satire'.
No longer a committed believer taking his side in a disputation (since disputation is
ultimately fruitless), Butler attacked the very idea of argument, along with the twin
evils of enthusiasm and superstition, which seemed to pose such a threat to the
Restoration establishment.50 John Wilders makes the same point:
He was so deeply conscious of the folly, hypocrisy, and gullibility of men that he had
little faith in human progress. He regarded the intellectualism of the old philosophy and
the experimentation of the new science as equally unprofitable.51
Sprat might have been arguing against just this type of satire when he decried the
'universal abuse of every thing', and imagined 'all worthy designs would soon be
laugh'd out of the World'.52 In fact it was not the Society's 'worthy designs' which
Butler abused, but the practical outcome of those designs. Instead of instituting a
new approach to a more fundamental truth than the old philosophy offered, Butler
saw the Society as merely substituting one inadequate method of investigation for
another. The fault rested largely with the Fellows and their idiosyncratic
enthusiasms, and it is these that Butler attacks in his satires.
Butler's satires on the Royal Society have been discussed in detail by various
scholars, most of whom attempt to identify the targets of Butler's caricatures, or to
48
Prose Observations, pp. 69 and 141.
/6/rf.,p.ll.
50
Parker, Triumph of Augustan Poetics, p. 52.
51
Hudibras ed. Wilders, p. xxii.
52
Sprat, Histoiy, p. 418.
49
analyse Butler's own attitude to the new science, using his satires as evidence.5
While both these approaches raise interesting points, neither adequately addresses the
question of what Butler was hoping to achieve with his satire, or investigates his
depiction of the Royal Society as an institution. William Home has gone furthest in
this respect, arguing that Butler was attacking bad scientists rather than science
itself.54 However, concentration on Butler's identifiable targets has obscured his
attacks on the workings of the Society and on the Fellows' interaction with each
other.
'The Elephant in the Moon'
In 'The Elephant in the Moon', Butler satirises the Royal Society's attempts at
empirical observation. The project he devises for them is topical, if somewhat
fantastic: the Virtuosi assemble to make a survey of the moon.55 However, Butler's
vision completely undermines the Fellows' endeavours. They misinterpret the
observations made through their telescope: what they believe are waning parties of
lunai" dwellers, and an escaped elephant, are actually discovered to be a cloud of flies
and gnats, and a mouse trapped inside the telescope. This discovery is made by the
Fellows' bored servants who amuse themselves by looking through the telescope.
The meeting breaks up in disarray, and Butler closes with a few moralising lines,
pointing out that philosophers who 'explicate Appearances, / Not as they're probable,
but as they please' deserve and attract nothing but 'Scorn' (11.535-538). This 'moral'
signals Butler's main theme, which is not that experimental science is fundamentally
flawed or useless, but that it is just as likely to be influenced by the personalities and
concerns of its practitioners as other philosophies. Just as he had done in Hudibras,
Butler attacks the idea that one particular sect or society could have sole access to
philosophical truth.
Though there is an explicit and serious moral to the.story, Butler also pokes
fun at various aspects of the Society's operation. The choice of project itself mocks
the Virtuosi's fascination with the moon and their faith in the telescope as an
53
William Home has characterised these as the micro and macro approaches, in his article 'Curiosity
and Ridicule in Samuel Butler's Satire on Science' (Restoration vol. 7 (1983), pp. 8-18).
iA
55
Ibid., p. 15.
Debate over the plurality of worlds and possibility of life on other worlds (a question first raised by
Campanella in the fifteenth century) meant that speculations about the moon, serious and burlesque,
abounded during the period (discussed by Marjorie Nicolson in Voyages to the Moon (New York,
I960)). Butler's poem is a reminder of these, and in particular, John Wilkins's The Discover)' of a
New World (1638). The telescope was almost as fascinating as the microscope for fellows and nonfellows of the Royal Society alike, and both instruments inspired a certain amount of mockery (see,
for example, reactions to Hooke's Micrographia (1665), and comments about the Society's interest in
minute creatures).
205
204
instrument of observation.56 Butler's description of the project is also the first in a
series of subtle attacks on the Society's twin claims of utilitarianism and
disinterestedness.57 In Butler's vision, the reasoning behind the Fellows' plan to
•survey* (1.7) the moon is openly imperialist: their observations of the 'Country', and
'how 'twas planted' (1.11) will indicate the best situation for 'new Plantations'
(1.14).58 By suggesting that they would consider a project to colonise the moon,
Butler mocks what were considered to be foolish enterprises concocted by the
Society, and implies that they were motivated by a desire for gain which belied the
altruistic aims attributed to them by Sprat.
Butler's most obvious attack is his caricature of several prominent Fellows,
whose identities have been discuEced by a number of scholars.59 They are introduced
with inflated language: one virtuoso 'Had been approv'd the most profound, and
wise / At solving all Impossibilities' (11.37-8), another is 'a famous great Philosopher,
/ Admir'd, and celebrated, far and near' (11.69-70). The reader soon realises, though,
that these are burlesque portraits. As well as being made ironic by their subsequent
mistakes, the hyperbolic descriptions of these Fellows distance them from their
hearers, the rest of the Society. Butler allows only a few of his Fellows to speak,
giving the impression of a group dominated by a few strong personalities. It is these
men who make, and speculate upon, the wondrous 'discoveries' on the moon. The
first advances 'with Gravity' to put 'his penetrating Eye' (11.39-40) to the
telescope.60 He immediately exclaims, '0 strange!' (1.41), and then inspects the
moon again, having 'bent the Muscles of his pensive Brow, / As if he meant to stare
and gaze her thro' (11. 43-44). The posturing of this grave and thoughtful man of
science has an interesting effect on his assembled audience. While he stares,
. . . all the rest began as much t'admire,
And, like a Powder-train, from him took Fire,
Suipriz'd with dull Amazement beforehand
At what they would, but could not understand;
And grew impatient to discover, what
The matter was, they so much wonder'd at.
(11. 45-50)
From the first cry of 'O strange!', Butler exposes and mocks the performative
aspect of the Society's experimental practice. The first Fellow is constantly aware of
his audience, and seems to exaggerate his normal responses in order to provoke
interest and fix all attention on himself, hi the process, he turns the rest of the
Fellows into gaping onlookers eager to take part in an experience without fully
understanding what is going on. Peter Dear has argued that it was the experience of
an experimental observation which gave the observer authority, and was therefore
integral to the new scientific method used by members of the early Royal Society.
He points out that recorded experiences, such as those described in the Philosophical
Transactions, emphasised the voice of the observer 'to strengthen the impression of
an actual event and the observer's central role within it'.61 Here, Butler undermines
the authority of the observer by making him a burlesque figure who mistakes the
phenomena he is observing.
At the same time, Butler questions the usefulness of the meeting itself.62 The
weekly meetings of the Royal Society began as well-attended gatherings of Fellows
at which experiments were performed and theories discussed.63 At Butler's meeting,
however, the Fellows influence each other for the worse, persuading themselves that
ever more far-fetched scenarios are in fact true. Enthusiasm for discovery grips the
meeting and overrides individual discretion. Butler makes both points clear: having
heard the specious arguments of one Fellow,
. . th' Assembly now was satisfy'd,
As Men are soon upon the biast side;
With great Applause receiv'd th' admir'd Dispute,
And grew more gay, and brisk, and resolute,
By having (right or wrong) remov'd all doubt,
Than if th' Occasion never had fall'n out (11. 321-326)
Instead of finding the truth through argument, the Fellows become even more
convinced in their error. All the Fellows take their turn at the telescope, and
therefore all are involved personally in the great discovery and have a vested interest
in making the most of the occasion. Butler shows how this 'socially constructed'
56
The front on which the Society was attacked most often, by a variety of opponents, was its choice of
projects - Robert Boyle's investigations into the weight of air attracted particular derision.
57
For the Royal Society's utilitarian aims, see in particular Sprat's History, pp. 76, 8 3 , and 338.
58
Butler's astrologer Sidrophel is similarly knowledgeable about the moon's topography in Hudibras
(Second Part, Canto 3,11. 265-76).
""'9 See Marjorie Hope Nicolson, Pepys' Diary and the New Science (Charlottesville, 1965), pp. 1435 1 ; and Sv. Bruun, ' W h o ' s Who in Samuel Butler's "The Elephant in the Moon"?', English Studies
vol. 50 (1969), pp. 381-389. Bruun identifies the speakers as Lord Brouncker; John Wilkins; a
character who Butler originally intended as John Evelyn but seems to be meant for Sir Paul Neile in
the second version of the poem; Robert Hooke; and Robert Boyle. I quote the later, decasyllabic
version of the p o e m - for Butler's revisions and their significance, see Bruun, ' W h o ' s W h o ' .
60
Bruun follows Robert Thyer, the first editor of Butler's published works, in identifying this speaker
as Lord Brouncker, president of the Society (Bruun, 'Who's W h o ' , p.382).
61
Peter Dear, 'Totius in verba: Rhetoric and Authority in the Early Royal Society', Isis vol. 76 (1985),
p. 154. Sprat also emphasises the importance to the Society as a body of having 'the whole process
[of experiments] pass under its own eyes' {History, p. 84). This idea is also treated at length in Shapin
and Schaffer's Leviathan and the Air-pump.
62
For much of the seventeenth century, some types of meetings had been viewed with suspicion and
fear. Butler does not draw any obvious parallels between the Society and non-conformist religious
groups, but the idea of the meeting was still slightly tainted. Sprat himself alludes to this when he
discusses the new Society's committees - a word which had previously been used mainly in
conjunction with parliamentary committees, and especially those governing during the Civil War
(Sprat, History, p. 85; Hunter, Establishing the New Science, p. 74).
Although recently Hunter has shown that attendances declined during the Restoration and there was
some debate about the desired outcome of meetings {Establishing the New Science, pp. 187-9).
206
truth becomes more difficult to challenge (and hence more dangerous) than a single
man's assertion.
As a natural progression, one Fellow urges the assembly to write a narrative of
the discovery, so that 'when 'tis fit to publish the Account, / We all may take our
several Oaths upon't' (11. 243-244). This is perhaps an attack on the way the Royal
Society used its various publications to legitimate new discoveries.64 The 'Grandees,
long in Consultation' (1. 369) finish writing their narrative and 'set their Hands, and
Seals, and Sense, and Wit / T' attest and vouch the Truth of all th' had writ' (11. 371372). It is at this point that the mouse is discovered in the telescope, and the meeting
is thrown into confusion. It is not so much the fact that they had been mistaken
which provokes a 'Tumult' (1. 376) of 'hot and furiously inrag'd' (1. 377) Fellows,
but that it nullifies their previous consensus of opinion. As Butler says, 'they had all
agreed, and sworn t* have seen't, / And had engag'd themselves to make it out'
(11. 380-381). Thus he suggests that the existence of a written record might prevent
the re-evaluation of an experiment, and paradoxically prevent the truth from being
known. This is made all the more probable when the whole assembly is implicated
in the mistaken hypothesis. The meeting degenerates completely when the Fellows
take a second look at the elephant and the moon. Instead of the previous enthusiastic
consensus, they now agree 'In no one Thing, they gaz'd upon . . . / As if th' had
different Principles of seeing' (11. 477-478). Some staunchly defend their former
opinions, others waver, unsure of whether to support 'The Party of the Elephant, or
Mouse' (1. 490). They are just as unscientific in their disputes as they had been in
their unanimous agreement, preferring to form parties and attempt to convert others
to their opinion, or even bring the matter to a vote, rather than solve the problem
logically.65
The Fellows' misguided enthusiasm is in direct contrast to the behaviour of a
second class of onlookers, the 'Footboys' who discover the truth about the elephant
in the moon. Unoccupied, the footboys imitate their masters and look through the
telescope. They have 'Turn'd Virtuosos, only for their Pleasure' (1. 334), but by
'viewing carefully' (1. 341) come to a more solid conclusion about what they see than
the professed virtuosi. The footboy who makes the discovery repeats the
exclamation '0 strange!' which heralded the first news from the moon. Unlike the
first eminent Fellow, however, the boy immediately follows his remark with a simple
and unromantic explanation:
On th' Inside of the long star-gazing Trunk;
And now is gotten down so low and nigh,
I have him here directly 'gainst mine Eye.
As Ken Robinson has argued, 'the footboys' common-sense makes them clearly
preferable to the virtuosi, [but they] do not themselves represent a normative
method'. Instead, Butler emphasises their lack of vested interest in the proceedings
to show up the manoeuvring of the real virtuosi, all of whom, it is implied, have their
own philosophical, political, or fiscal agendas.
Butler makes his Fellows refer several times to the way in which the outside
world sees them and their scientific projects. One celebrates their newest discovery
with the hope that
T' out-throw, and magnify, and to enlarge
Shall, henceforth, be no more laid to our charge;
Nor shall our best and ablest Virtuosos
Prove Arguments again for Coffee-Houses
This has been discussed by Adrian Johns ('Piracy and Usurpation', pp. 465-91).
This is probably meant as a parody of theological controversy - but one which could easily have
been grounded in truth. Compare this scene with the 'politicking' of different factions during the
search for a new president in 1677/8 (Johns, 'Piracy and Usurpation', p. 533).
65
(11. 209-212)
Another Fellow claims the Society is 'cry'd down, / And made the Table-talk of all
the Town' (11. 399-400) because they are seen as having 'done nothing yet' (1. 402).
The same Fellow claims that 'Stubs, / And all the busy Academick Clubs'
(11. 445-446) will be quick to turn any failure of the Society's to their own advantage.
The suggestion to publish their discoveries is preceded by a long complaint about the
'constant Prejudice' (1. 233) of the world against the Society's 'best, as well as worst
Experiments, / As if they were all destin'd to miscarry, / As well in Concert try'd, as
solitary' (11. 234-236). The Fellows' sensitivity to the outside world's scorn creates
an atmosphere of oppression.67 Their petulance at the world's obtuse refusal to
recognise their worth makes them humorous, but it also gives a slightly sinister
aspect to the Society. Butler gives the impression of a group united against a
common enemy - and, in the ensuing discussion, hints at a possible outcome to the
situation.
The speaker (identified as Robert Boyle) reminds the Fellows of the world's
mockery in order to convince them that they will never win admiration unless they
eschew truth for the strange and novel. He argues that
. . . Truth is always too reserv'd and chaste,
T' indure to be by all the Town embrac'd,
A solitary Anchorite that dwells,
Retir'd from all the World in obscure Cells,
Disdains all great Assemblys, and defies
The Press and Crowd of mix'd Societies,
. . . 0 strange! a little Thing is slunk
64
(11. 343-346)
66
Robinson, 'The Skepticism of Butler's Satire on Science: Optimistic or Pessimistic?', Restoration
vol. 7 (1983), p. 2.
The idea that the Society was an object of derision seems to have been widely accepted - in this
respect, Butler echoes Sprat's Histoiy.
208
That use to deal in Novelty and Change,
Not of things true, but great, and rare, and strange (11. 411-418)
Obviously, the suggestion that the Society should not value truth above all else is an
attack on their basic ideals - but not necessarily one Butler meant to be taken
seriously.68 Butler ironically inserts this speech into the mouth of one who is himself
part of a society which assembles to search out truth. Moreover, sections of the
Society could equally, with the world in general, be accused of preferring things
great, rare and strange to mundane examples of local natural history.09 However,
Butler is not advocating the solitary search after truth. This Fellow's view of the
world, and the Society's endeavours, is particularly disturbing because it makes a
distinct divide between those who have access to the truth, and those from whom the
truth can, and indeed should, be hidden. The motivation for hiding or creating the
truth is clear. Previously, the world has disregarded or mocked the Society's
endeavours; it is in the Society's interests to give the world what they want to hear.
The Fellow also suggests the Society should take care
That none presume to know above his Share,
Nor take upon him t' understand, henceforth,
More than his weekly Contribution's worth (11. 450-452)
This would prevent any interruptions of meetings by footboys in the future.
However, it is another scheme to limit access to knowledge, and again relates
directly to the Society's financial interests. Of course, it runs just as counter to the
Society's explicit aims as the plan to invent truth. The discussion is significant,
though, because it raises some important questions about the institutionalisation of
experimental philosophy. Who is competent to judge facts? How far can the outside
world trust what the Royal Society endorses? Should the Society insist on unanimity
of opinion within its ranks?70
Steven Shapin discusses notions of authority and the production of truth in
early modem society in A Social History of Truth.n Like Peter Dear, Shapin
believes that the crisis of authority in the seventeenth century led to a new emphasis
on the primacy of first-hand experience in scientific relations.72 However, he
contends that gentlemen were regarded as more trustworthy in their narrations than
other sections of society. He bases this on four percieved aspects of the gentlemanly
68
Bruun makes the point that the 'moral character' of Boyle's caricature 'is contradicted by Ihe real
Boyle's consistent attitude to scientific probity' ('Who's W h o ' , p. 389).
69
For a discussion of the Royal Society's attitude to artefacts, see Hunter, 'Between Cabinet of
Curiosities and Research Collection', in Establishing the New Science, pp. 123-155.
70
Sprat recorded the Society's stance on the last question: experiments were discussed or repeated
until 'the whole Company' was satisfied as to the results (History, p. 99).
71
Steven Shapin, A Social History of Truth: Civility and Science in Seventeenth-Century England
(Chicago and London, 1994).
72
Dear discusses this in relation to cooperative inquiry and the Royal Society ('Totius in Verba').
identity: gentlemen have 'perceptual competence' and are therefore unlikely to be
deceived themselves; they have a 'pragmatic' regard for social forces which reward
truth-telling; they are Christian; and, 'arguably the most fundamental and
consequential' aspect, their wealth and status makes them disinterested. In addition,
Shapin argues that the modes of gentlemanly conversation (which he characterises as
peculiarly irenic, on the grounds that argument is impolite) shaped scientific
discourse to the extent that there was very little public discussion of experimental
reporting.73
Interestingly, Butler undermines all of these assumptions, except that of
Christianity, about the Fellows of the Royal Society. He portrays them as
incompetent, potentially deceitful, argumentative and, above all, committed to their
own agendas rather than detached observation and report. In doing this, Butler was
not endorsing the ancient scholastic forms of authority in opposition to new scientific
methods. It is the misinterpretation of observations and the enthusiasm of members
which leads the Fellows so far from the truth, rather than any fault with their
experimental method. Ultimately, human nature is at fault. Butler suggests that all
science is 'interested', and that the personalities of Fellows have a larger impact on
the functioning of the Royal Society than its propagandists would like people to
believe.
Butler's other satires on the Royal Society
Anti-Royal Society satire has been identified in several of Butler's other works. His
fragmentary 'Satire on the Royal Society' consists mainly of a burlesque list of
topics supposedly discussed by the Royal Society. As William Home says, the
puipose of the satire was presumably to make the Society's endeavours 'appear
ridiculous and trifling'.74 The list of projects is so varied that Butler may also be
mocking the grandiose assertion of the Society that the whole field of nature (except
theology and the human soul) was open to their investigations.75 However, Home
has argued that the list of supposedly foolish questions, such as 'Whether the Sea
increase or waste, / And, if it do, how long 'twill last' (11 81-82), hints at a real
curiosity about the natural world on the author's part, which undermines the satiric
73
Shapin, Social History of Truth, pp. 74-86, and 114-125. However, Mordechai Feingold has
expressed strong reservations about Shapin's inteipretation of the historical records he uses to
substantiate his arguments. Feingold questions the link Shapin makes between 'privileged economic
and social circumstances' and 'values .. . such as integrity, freedom of action, and disinterestedness',
and presents evidence which contradicts Shapin's claim that reports to the Society w e r e rarely
challenged ( ' W h e n Facts Matter', Isis vol. 87 (1996), pp. 132, 134).
74
H o m e , 'Curiosity and Ridicule', p. 14.
75
Sprat says the 'two Subjects, God, and the Soul, being onely forborn: In all the rest, they wander, at
their pleasure' (History, p. 83).
210
211
thrust of the text.76 This is no doubt true for the largest part of the fragment, and, as
Home suggests, may be why Butler apparently abandoned it as a satire.77 However,
the short introductory section suggests a different tack was perhaps intended.
Butler's focus at the beginning of his satire is firmly on the Virtuosi and their
meetings:
A learned Man, whom once a Week
A hundred Virtuoso's seek,
And like an Oracle apply to,
T' ask Questions, and admire, and lye to,
Who entertain'd them all of Course
(As Men take Wives for better or worse)
And past them all for Men of Parts,
Though some but Sceptics in their Hearts:
For when they're cast into a Lump,
Their Talents equally must jump;
As Metals mixt, the rich and base
Do both at equal Values pass.
access to experimental knowledge, and what this means for the Society as an
institution.
Butler also mocked the Royal Society in prose by burlesquing one of Robert
Boyle's publications. 'An Occasional Reflection on Dr. Charlton's feeling a Dog's
Pulse at Gresham College. By R. B. Esq.' is a parody of Boyle's 'Occasional
Reflections' in both style and matter. Butler pushes the original author's convoluted
phrasing and bombastic vocabulary to its limit, while describing an incident once
again chosen to make the Royal Society's pursuits look foolish. Concerns about the
Society which emerge in 'The Elephant in the Moon' also appear in the 'Occasional
Reflection'. Butler casts a delicate pall of doubt over the Doctor's (and by extension,
the Society's) motivations, observing 'Little doth the innocent Creature know . . .
whether the ingenious Dr. [feels its pulse] out of a sedulous Regard of his Patient's
Health, or his own proper Emolument'. He also refers to the Society's philosophy of
collective experimentation, claiming that
(11. 1-12)
The opening couplet recalls the wording of the opening line of 'The Elephant in the
Moon' (long-verse version), 'A virtuous, learn'd Society, of late'. As Robinson
points out, the pun on virtuous/virtuoso highlights the emptiness of the virtuosi's
virtue. In the fragment, the learned man is cast as oracular arbiter of truth;, who
does not exercise his function as a judge of intellectual quality, but instead greets all
equally. His inclusiveness allows all his interlocutors to be approved as 'Men of
Parts', even though they have varying degrees of intellect.79 This, again, is the
reverse of the institutional ideal: instead of each man adding his own ideas to the
pool of knowledge, the group is 'cast into a Lump' like a metal alloy. Their peculiar
talents become indistinguishable, and are therefore valued equally with each other.
The 'rich and base' metals, when mixed, present an interpretative problem for
anyone attempting to gauge the worth of the resulting product. This problem is
further explored in the satire through the series of questions which follow, some of
which seem frivolous, some more worthy of discussion. Butler seems to be
enquiring how non-members are supposed to discriminate between the tally learned
and the dilettantes, when all are (apparently) welcomed equally into, and given
serious attention by, the Society. Again, as he did in 'The Elephant in the Moon',
Butler is raising questions about which Fellows have, or should be permitted to have,
when the King of Macassar's Poison was sent hither, the Dr. was so impatient to try the
Experiment solitary, that, rather than attend the Pleasure of the Royal-Society, he
adventured (though at the Price of their Displeasure) to invade it by Surreption and
Involation, and secretly deprived the Hint-Keeper of it; for which he received, I will not
say whether condign Punishment, or severe Castigation, from the learned and
honourable President, in a grave and weighty Oration pronounced by his Lordship
before this celebrious and renowned Assembly.
This description paints the Society as a secretive and rather repressive organisation
with a strict experimental policy, deviance from which is punished (or at least
castigated) by the president. Questions are raised, albeit in a burlesque fashion,
about the place and actions of the individual within the institution. Once again,
Butler uses his depiction of the inner workings of the Society to create boundaries
between the Society and the outside world. Marjorie Nicolson notes that Butler's
publicizing of this contretemps would have reminded the Fellows, embarrassingly,
that their private squabbles were food for coffee-house speculation.80 Boyle's rather
bombastic style aided Butler in his project; his circumlocutary language, and his
reminders to 'Lyndamore' about Society matters, combined to give the impression
that the author was writing for a specific group of insiders. Butler parodied Boyle's
style to great effect, turning the essay's focus from the science to the scientists.
Conclusion
76
Comments included under the heading 'Nature' in Butler's Prose Obsen'ations demonstrate this
interest in the natural world and the efforts of the virtuosi to comprehend it. T h e question about the
sea echoes Butler's note that 'the Sea has visibly, and apparently in few yeares D e c a y ' d , and left
many Havens some Miles from the Shore' {Prose Obsen'ations, p. 93).
77
H o m e , 'Curiosity and Ridicule', pp. 14-15.
78
Robinson, 'The Skepticism of Butler's Satire', p. 4.
79
Butler makes a similar point in his verse letter 'Hudibras to SidropheF, 11. 81-88.
•mm
As Home and Robinson argue, Butler's satires attack 'bad scientists' and 'bad
scientific procedure' rather than science itself.
However, neither of these critics
80
81
Nicolson, Pepys' Diary and the New Science, pp. 156-7.
Home, 'Curiosity and Ridicule', p. 15; Robinson, 'The Skepticism of Butler's Satire', p. 1.
212
213
has noticed the extent to which his attacks include the interaction between scientists
in the Royal Society. Butler's depiction of the inner workings of the Society creates
a sense of unease in the reader. Scientists on their own are liable to error: scientists
in a group, it seems, are liable to a multiplication of errors, brought on by the
enthusiastic and uncritical acceptance of certain individuals' pronouncements, and
furthered by reluctance to seem foolish in the eyes of the world.
and manuscripts'.84 Roger Lund describes him as 'a natural scholar', but one with
the 'tendency to isolate the most inconsequential, curious, or bizarre features of the
works he has read'.85 As well as being one of the Christ Church wits who attacked
Bentley, King was an acquaintance of Swift. His fondness for light literature seems
to have obstructed his career, but his works were well-received on publication, and it
has been suggested that his writing may have influenced Pope's Dunciad.*6
In offering this negative portrait of the Royal Society, Butler counters several
of the claims made by Sprat in his Histoiy. He repeatedly suggests that Fellows are
not the 'Gentlemen, free, and unconfin'd' that Sprat claims will be 'averse from such
sordid considerations' as profit.82 By pointing cut examples of seemingly foolish
endeavours he undermines Sprat's claim, that an important motive for the Fellows'
investigations is their application 'to the uses of humane Society'. His depiction of
the relationships between Fellows suggests that even among a group of 'equal
observers without dependence', there will always be some who are more equal than
others. Finally, he presents a riotous alternative to Sprat's vision of the weekly
meetings as maintaining 'a singular sobriety of debating, slowness of consenting, and
moderation of dissenting'.83
Lund claims it is his 'fascination with the triviality of modern learning' which
underlies King's earliest satirical work, A Journey to London in the year 1698.
King's work is a parody of Martin Lister's A Journey to Paris in the year 1698.
Lister was a member of the Royal Society, and his Journey reflected his interests.
He introduced his account with the remark that he took 'more pleasure to see
Monsieur Breman in his white Wastcoat digging in the Royal Physick Garden
than Monsieur Saintot making room for an Ambassador'.87 Much of his book
describes visits to French antiquarians or scientists (and their cabinets), as well as
tours of art collections, palaces, libraries, glassworks and potteries. Lister's main
interest is in the work of French experimental philosophers and other famous eruditi.
His accounts of these men focus on their work, noting connections between it and the
work being undertaken by their English counterparts. As well as repeating actual
conversations in which exchanges of ideas took place, he adds narratorial remarks of
his own.88 His comments on the workings of the French Academie naturally involve
comparisons with the Royal Society. He occasionally mentions articles from the
Philosophical Transactions which have a bearing on the subject he is describing.89
His subject matter reveals his journey as an investigation into the state of
Butler's satires attack the operation of the Society as an institution, rather
than the validity of the experimental method or the new philosophy. It may be that
Butler meant to undermine the Royal Society's claims to empiricism by
demonstrating that their meetings were influenced by individual bias or interest, and
mediated by individuals' performances, just as much as was traditional learning.
However, the attacks seem particularly concerned with the Fellows' own conception
of the Society, and their understanding of how the outside world perceived it. Like
many erudite satirists, Butler was interested in how people or institutions represent
themselves to others, and hence place themselves in the cultural field. By taking
Sprat's Histoiy as a starting point, he entered a dispute which already involved
several erudite participants, and proceeded to construct another version of the truth.
William King: plain English and commonsense
Dr. William King (1663-1712) was educated at Westminster and Christ Church, and
upon taking his D.C.L in 1692 became an advocate at Doctors' Commons. An early
biographer of King claimed that during his eight years' stay at Christ Church, King
'had read over and made Reflections on twenty-two thousand and odd hundred books
82
Johns comments that the Fellows 'routinely accused each other of mercenary conduct' - which
suggests that Butler may have been drawing on existing conflict within the Society for material
('Piracy and Usurpation', p. 498).
83
Sprat, Histoiy, pp. 67-8, 83, 67,91.
Life of King' in The Poetical Works of Dr William King, 2 vols. (Edinburgh, 1781). Feingold
quotes Samuel Johnson's comment that 'the books were certainly not very long, the manuscripts not
very difficult, nor the remarks very large; for the calculator will find that he dispatched seven a day
for every day of his eight years, with a remnant that more than satisfies most other students' (Lives of
the English Poets ed. George Birkbeck Hill, 3 vols. (Oxford, 1905), vol. II, p. 27; quoted in Feingold
Humanities , p. 220). Engel gives an account of King's education in his life of King {Ingenious Dr
King, pp. 23-58).
o 5 *^ 1 !?"? K i n g l The Tramactioneer ed - Roger D. Lund (Augustan Reprint Society Publication nos
251 -252; Los Angeles, 1988), p. iv.
T BT\l Hfe ° f K i " 8 ' S t h e m 0 S t r e C e n t a n d com P rel iensive {Ingenious Dr King, pp. 23-58) See also
, on n«lTS ""I 1116
DUnCi3d: P P e S D e b t t0 WiUiam K i n
° '
8''
Pa Jers on La
!
"S^ge and Literature
vol. 20 (1984), pp. 293-300.
8
g Martin Lister, A Journey to Paris in the Year 1698 (London, 1699), p. 3.
As, for example, in this exchange: 'Pere Hardouin seemed to doubt of the Inscription of Palmyra
put out by M. Spone; That the Greek was faulty, and the Syriac very questionable. I told him we had
had it lately Copied, carefully and truly by one at Rome; Which took away his Objection' (p. 114)
This was the Jesuit Jean Hardouin, who came to doubt the genuineness of nearly all ancient texts
mamtammg them to be late-mediaeval forgeries (Sandys, History of Classical Scholarship, vol. II,'
See, for example, Journey to Paris, p. 112.
214
215
experimental philosophy in France, and incidentally reveals modes of interaction
between learned men all over Europe.90
Lister's style is conversational, enlivened by personal observations of all
kinds. For example, he concludes a brief comparison between the fire-retardant
French buildings and the dangerously flammable fabric of London with the reflection
that at home
every Man that goes to Bed, when asleep, lies like a dead Roman upon a Funeral Pile,
dreading some unexpected Apotheosis; for all is combustible about him, and the Paint of
the Deal Boards may serve for Incense, the quicker to burn him to Ashes, (p. 137)
Rather than detracting from the sense of what he writes, glancing remarks (such as
this one on Roman funeral customs) generally add to the learned tone of the work.
It is the eclecticism of this learning, however, which makes it dangerously
like that found in the virtuosi of popular literature. As we have seen, caricatured
virtuosi were interested in the minutiae of life. The second half of Lister's account
deals with 'how the Parisians Eat, Drink, and Divert themselves' (p. 146). He lists
vegetables and explains how the French use each variety, and lists the meats, fruits,
wines and other drinks commonly consumed in Paris. After describing in detail the
opera and other entertainments, he finishes with comments on the Parisian weather,
gardens, and physicians. In giving these encyclopedic catalogues, Lister was
undoubtedly following the Royal Society's aim of investigating subjects fully for the
use and benefit of mankind. However, inconsequential remarks such as 'The
Asparagus here are in great plenty, but for the first month they were very bitter and
unpleasant; from whence that proceeded I cannot guess; afterwards I did not much
perceive it' (p. 152) were almost guaranteed to provoke a mocking response.
William King's response was swift as well as mocking, published in the same
year as Lister's original work. The full title of King's work is A Journey to London
in the year 1698 After the Ingenuous Method of that made by Dr. Martin Lyster to
Paris in the satne Year, &c. Written Originally in French, By Monsieur Sorbiere, and
Newly Translated into English.91 The reference to Lister draws the reader's attention
to the fact that the work is an elaborate parody. This is reinforced by the reference to
Sorbiere, a Frenchman who earlier in the century had published a description of
England entitled Relation d'un voyage en Angleterre.92 The Relation was considered
unflattering to the English, and a response was written by none other rhan Thomas
Sprat. Sprat's volume was published as Observations on Monsieur de Sorbier's
Although the erudite world was overwhelmingly masculine, Lister does record his meeting with
Madame Dacier, whom he admired as 'the Learnedst Woman in Europe' (p 76)
91
London, 1698.
92
Cologne, 1666. For the ensuing controversy between Sorbiere and the English philosophers, see
Thomas Birch, The History of the Royal Society of London, 4 vols. (London 1756-7- repr 1968}
vol. II, pp. 458-9.
*
Voyage into England Written to Dr. Wren, Professor of Astronomy in Oxford By
Thomas Sprat Fellow of the Royal Society.93 His title and early remarks make it
clear that Sprat is not only defending his country from the aspersions of a foreigner,
but in some way acting on behalf of the Royal Society.94 The Royal Society, he says,
had entertained Sorbiere with 'civility' (p. 9), and thus deserved better from him.
Sprat will not demean himself, though, by 'making reflexions on the French'.
Instead, he 'will only put together, and compare, the mistakes, the incoherences, the
vanities of [Sorbiere's] Book' (p. 6). By referring to this controversy, King
(ironically) inserted his work into an existing tradition of cross-Channel rivalry.
More to the point, he dragged Lister's work into the same tradition, thus elaborately
undermining it. King recasts Lister's (ostensibly serious) account as a parodic text:
in the company of other satirical, or at least adversarial, texts it is no longer
completely to be trusted. This is made all the worse by the fact that Lister is a
member of the Royal Society, other members of which, readers are reminded, have
had bitter arguments with the French in the past.
King's satiric method, used in most of his works against the Royal Society,
was to parody the origir.il work by using the parodied writer's own expressions. As
we have seen, many wn ers used this simple device to make a satiric point about
their victim's language.95 King went further than most, constructing much of his
work out of Lister's rambling prose. Compare Lister's description of his journey
I happily arrived at Paris after a tedious Journey in very bad Weather; for we set out of
London the 10th of December, and I did not reach Paris till the first of January; for I
fell sick upon the Road, and stay'd 5 days at Bologne, behind the Company, till my
Fever abated; yet notwithstanding so rude a Journey, I recovered, and was perfectly
cured of my Cough in 10 days; which was the chiefest reason of my leaving London at
that time of the year, and never had the least return of it all the Winter, though it was as
fierce there as I ever felt it in England.
with King's
7 arriv'd at London, after a tedious Journey, in bad weather; for 1 fell sick upon the
road, and lay dangerously ill of the Tooth-ach.96
King helpfully signals his use of Lister's original to the reader by italicising the
borrowed phrases, and printing their corresponding page reference in the margin.97
93
London, Printed for John Martyn and James Allestry, Printers to the Royal Society. 1665
A largely neglected aspect of Sprat's History is its fervent and frequent assertions that England, and
specifically London, is the most suitable place in the world for the conduct of experimental science.
Robert Illiffe has investigated the early Royal Society's 'internationalism' in 'Foreign Bodies: Travel,
Empire and the Early Royal Society of London - Pan I: Englishmen on Tour' (Canadian Journal of
Histoiy vol. 33 (1998), pp. 357-85).
95
Engel cites Shadwell's use of quotations from Hooke's Micrographia in The Virtuoso (Ingenious
Dr King, p. 131). He points out that though King used Lister's phrases, he manipulated them
(rearranging, misquoting or interpolating other material) for his own satiric puiposes (p. 239).
96
"* Lister, Journey to Paris, p. 4; King, Journey to London, p. 3.
94
216
217
As the above example shows, King highlights the trivialities of Lister's
reminiscences.98 He mocks Lister's observations on 'Cellar Windows', hackney
coaches, street signs and Parisian entertainments" by including direct parodies in his
own work. He describes visits to several fictional antiquarians, who show him
collections very similar to those viewed by Lister in Paris. He strays from Lister's
prose to add burlesque antiquarian conversations, such as the following:
He then diverted me with a Copy of the Writing said to be the Devil's Writing, kept in
Queen's Colledge in Oxford. Upon which I began the Discourse of these matters; I told
him, that the Chinese were very much Embarrass 'd in their Writing, as this Writing
seem'd to be. But I was rather inclin 'd, to think this the Boustrophedon way mention 'd
by Suidas like the Racers about the Meta /;? the Cirque. But I could not find that he had
any apprehension of the matter, (pp. 15-16)
It is not only his imaginary interlocutor who has no 'apprehension of the matter': the
preceding gibberish suggests that the speaker himself is equally ignorant. Thus, as
well as mocking Lister's style and subject matter King attacks the man himself. At
the heart of Lister's account was his interaction with Continental antiquarians and
experimental philosophers. By exposing their discussions as arcane or simply banal,
King undermined the philosophers' claims to utility and discovery.
King also made some incidental attacks on the relationships between
members of the republic of learning. His French protagonist regrets 'a very great
breach' (p. 16) between two of his philosopher friends, and relates how the
'generosity of the English' (p. 17) led to his being given not one but two human
hearts by different anatomists. By suggesting that philosophers can be split by
differences of opinion over such seemingly-insignificant matters as 'the Hearts of a
Hedghog\ King makes a dent in the facade of unanimity promoted by the early
Royal Society. King's philosophers, rather than being detached men of science,
appear to be involved in petty squabbles and factionism, and overly dependent on the
network of friendships within the scientific community. The seemingly prodigal
distribution of human hearts by anatomists (Lister was given two on separate
occasions) provided King with another opportunity to ridicule these connections and
the part they played in the pursuit of science.
King was obviously proud of his Journey to London, or pleased with its
reception, because in later works he styled himself 'Author of the Journey to
London'.99 He used the same satiric method in two other prose satires, The
Transactioneer (1700) and Useful Transactions in Philosophy (1709). Like the
Journey, both of these works attacked a particular Fellow - in this case, Sir Hans
Sloane, secretary of the Royal Society and editor of the Philosophical Transactions by parodying his prose style.
As well as using a similar method in his later satires, King made a number of
the same attacks on his new target as he had on Martin Lister. The Transactioneer is
written, as the title page promises, 'in two dialogues' - the first between a Gentleman
and a Virtuoso, and the second between the Gentleman and the Transactioneer
himself. As Roger Lund says, the Gentleman 'asks naive and apparently wellmeaning questions which elicit a series of self-incriminating answers from the
Virtuoso and the Transactioneer'.100 In providing these two characters with voices,
King followed the well-established satiric tradition of belittling one's opponent by
putting foolish words into his mouth. Of course, King's method had the advantage
of authenticity - once again, he turned his target's own writing against him. This is
made abundantly obvious to the reader by scattered references of the type 'I shall
refer you to the Philosophical Transactions, Numb. 252. p. 188. where you will find
. . .'.'01 As Lund notes, King's 'annotation . . . clearly invites the reader to consult
the Philosophical Transactions in order to admire both the cleverness of his parody
and his essential fidelity to the spirit (if not the letter) of the original'.102
However, in The Transactioneer King also writes himself (or at least his
spokesman, the Gentleman) into the dialogue, as a rational 'everyman' figure
designed to highlight the follies of the philosophers. This adds bite to the satire by
implying that the philosophers are too self-important and credulous to realise that
they are being mocked by their interlocutor. The tone of the exchanges is
reminiscent of those between Mr. Smith, Mr. Johnson and Mr. Bayes in The
Rehearsal, where Bayes is encouraged to go to extreme lengths of ridiculousness by
his companions' smooth questions.103 Such conversations about the Transactions,
King implies, are taking place all over the metropolis; he claims in his Preface that
'since this new Secretary-ship all agree a more useless Paper no where appears' (sig.
A3V). The dialogue form makes the boundaries between the virtuosi and rational
Gentleman clear: when set one against the other, it is easy to compare the two
different world-views which clash here. The reader is forced to choose a voice with
The Transactioneer ed. Lund, p. v
97
This was a fairly standard procedure for pamphlet disputes during the period, and presumably
helped readers follow the thread of arguments if they had missed an instalment.
98
In fact, Lister's natural style (which could be described as serious mock-heroic) almost baffles
King's efforts at burlesque.
99
As the author of K i n g ' s entry in the DNB points out. See his Dialogues of the Dead.
,p.
The Virtuoso's occasional references to the 'Modem Stile' (p. 7) of philosophical wiiting recall
Bayes's enthusiasm for the modern way of wiiting plays in The Rehearsal. King quotes some of The
Rehearsal's foolish verses in Useful Transactions (Part III, p. 15), which suggests that he found the
play amusing, and possibly a source of inspiration for his comic dialogue.
103
218
219
which to identify, making the dialogue a socially divisive tool which marginalises the
104
virtuosi.
King says in his Preface that he has treated Sloane 'under two Characters: as an
Author and an Editor'. In the former character he claims to have considered Sloane's
'own personal Capacity', and in the latter, 'his Judgment in the choice of his Friends,
and of the Discourses that he Publishes' (sig. A2r). King's analysis of Sloane's
'personal Capacity' is based largely on the editorial contributions he makes to the
Transactions. He concludes that Sloane is a man of 'no real Parts .. . Master of only
Scraps pick'd up from one and from another, or Collected out of this Book or that',
and that he 'should have kept to his old way of bustling, vying with Dr. Salmon at
Auctions, mustering up Books for a shew, and of acting by Signs, Scrapes and
Wriggles' (sig. A2V). From this description it seems that King objects primarily to
Sloane's type of learning, which he characterises as shallow and fit only for the
acquisition of antiquities and curiosities, for which Sloane was famous. Of course,
this ignores Sloane's qualifications and experience as a physician - although King
later implies that Sloane's doctorate was also a sham.105 However, Sloane's lack of
learning affects his authorial style, which King calls 'so confused and unintelligible,
that it is plain he's so far from any usefull Knowledge, that he wants even common
Grammar'. Indeed,
This is so Notorious from every line he has published, that liis own Words will be the
best Proof of what I say, and I have been so carefull in producing them, that I defie him
to shew he is once Misrepresented. Nay. there is so little need of that, that I challenge
any Man with all his Art to imitate the Bulls and Blunders which he so naturally pours
forth. (sig.A3r)
King's reworking of Sloane's passages is not only a game for the reader, but a
challenge to Sloane and the Fellows of the Royal Society to prove him wrong.
Sloane's authorial style is called into question more than once in The
Transactioneer. King delights in reproducing 'the Bulls and Blunders' which found
their way into the Transactions™6 One example will suffice for illustration.
This Stone is a sort of Coral . . . ft grows in the Seas adjoyning to Jamaica; // is
frequently found fossile in England. I have some of it found here that will polish as well
as Agat. .. There are many other things growing in the Seas adjoyning to Jamaica, and
not to be found in these Parts, which are frequently dug up in the Inland Parts of
England, and elsewhere, where they do not naturally grow. (pp. 4-5)
104
Frederick M. Keener discusses King's (and other authors') use of the dialogue form in English
Dialogues of the Dead: a Critical History, an Anthology, and a Check List (New York and London,
1973).
105
The Transactioneer mentions his degree from Orange: 'I knew 'twas quicker and cheaper than at
Leyden or Padua, so I was D u b b ' d Doctor there' (p. 35).
106
The OED defines 'bull' (sb.4, definition 2) as: 'A self-contradictory p r o p o s i t i o n ; . . . an expression
containing a manifest contradiction in terms or involving a ludicrous inconsistency unperceived by the
speaker'.
This note of Sloane's was appended to an article 'concerning a Figured Stone found
in Wales' (No. 252). The Gentleman, simultaneously positing and rejecting a philosophical mode of discourse, asks to have the account: 'in plain English'. The
Virtuoso objects, saying 'The Dignity of the Subject will by no means admit of it;
besides it will be an injustice and lessening of the Authors performance'. Here King
implies that the philosophers dignify their work with a value above, what others set
on it. They are deliberately obfuscating, limiting outsiders' access to their work. By
drawing attention to 'the Authors performance', he suggests that the Transactions are
a performance space where philosophers attempt self-aggrandisement rather than
simply relating the facts. King's tendency to exaggerate the frequency of Sloane's
(already frequent) mentions of Jamaica, which he visited in 1687, supports this
argument. The Transactioneer is fixated on Jamaica to the detriment of his work
(many of his theories about natural history involve the islands in some way), and
because of this, seems to be using the Transactions as a way of publicising his
voyage.
The punchline to the story about the stone (or coral) is the Gentleman's
paraphrase of Sloane's convoluted style:
This in my sense is to say it was found in Wales but grew in Jamaica: 'Twas frequently
found in England, and by way of reinforcement 'twas found here .. . And that there are
many things growing in those Seas, not found in these Parts of England, which are
frequently dug up (or found) in the Inland parts o/England, where yet they do not grow,
or are not found. This to a Man of Ordinary Understanding is pretty odd! (pp. 6-7)
The development of a new 'Philosophical Language' (p. 73) in which to report
observations was a projected aim of the early Royal Society. The idea was discussed
by Sprat, and John Wilkins took it up at length in his Essay towards a Real
Character and a Philosophical Language.101 Sprat famously wrote of the Society's
plan 'to reject all the amplifications, digressions, and swellings of style: to return
back to the primitive purity, and shortness, when men deliver'd so many things,
almost in an equal number of words\m King chose samples of Sloane's style
which, though not couched in arcane terminology (such as Lister occa jonally used),
were so confusing as to make a mockery of Sprat's ideal.
The tenuous connection between words and things is demonstrated by King's
supposedly literal reporting of Sloane's words. Words are shown to have different
meanings in different contexts: words which convey a certain sense in the
Transactions are shown to be empty when exposed in the harsh environment of
King's satire. As we have seen, though, King makes the specific claim in his Preface
that Sloane is not once 'Misrepresented' - in other words, he is telling the truth about
107
108
London, 1668.
Sprat, History, p. 113.
221
220
Sloane's work. This ironic use of 'truth' in satire has particular relevance in
connection with the Royal Society, as we have seen in Butler's attacks. Here, King
is setting up his own version of the truth of the Transactions, thus demonstrating that
their claims to truth are open to question. If Sloane's reports of matters of fact can
be turned, with a little tweaking, into bizarre or ludicrous fictions for The
Transactioneer, what sort of manipulations might they have undergone before being
inserted into the Transactions!
More questions about truth, and its reporting and reception, arise when King
considers Sloane as an editor. King questions Sloane's choice of material for tta
Transactions and his choice of correspondents. Both these topics are associated with
larger issues on which we have already seen the Royal Society attacked. The Society
was constantly being called to account for the subjects it chose to investigate, and the
projects it thought worthy of pursuit. It was also concerned with establishing the
authenticity of its experimental reports, as a basis for its authoritative voice in the
new science.
King's table of contents is a brief (and amusing) digest of the apparently
foolish material plucked from the Transactions and reproduced in the
Transactioneer}09 Entries such as 'Beans that Travelled from Jamaica to Ireland',
'Fish different from one another', and 'Charles Worth his Man and Maid, all merrily
besh—/' illustrate three broad categories into which the material falls. The first is
that of the wildly improbable account, ranging from unlikely theories about natural
phenomena to eye-witness reports of prodigious occurrences. The story of the
travelling beans, or seedpods, is one of Sioane's own contributions. King finds it
amusing, or irritating, on two counts: first, Sloane's seemingly absurd theory that the
beans had floated from the West Indies across the Atlantic to Britain; and second, the
fact that Sloane had once again referred to his own Jamaican experience. King uses
italicised extracts from Sloane's account to give the essence of the story, interrupted
by burlesque remarks of his own.
// is easie to conceive, that growing in Jamaica in the Woods, [the beans] may either fall
from the Trees into the Rivers, or be any other way conveighed by them into the Seas. It
is likewise veiy easie to conceive that being got to the Sea, and floating in it, and the
Neighbourhood denying them the Liberty of Landing in their own Country, they may
take a Resolution of Transplanting themselves into another Country . . .
Similar scientific accounts of the extraordinary are indexed as lA Lamb Suckled by a
Weather', lA Shower of Writings', 'The feirceness of a Sable Mouse', and
(intriguingly) lA Head that was a Bag', among others. Of these, most report on
genuinely interesting phenomena which have since been treated seriously and
109
An earlier example of this is the satirical index appended to Boyle's Dr. Bentley's Dissertations .. .
Examin 'd, which has been attributed to King (pp. 291-4; Engel, Ingenious Dr King, p. 208).
explained by science.110 King's deliberate mixing of the truly prodigious and the
merely unusual undermines all the reports, regardless of their veracity, and implicitly
accuses Sloane of indiscriminate editing.
King does not let this accusation remain implicit, however. His Gentleman
spokesman interrupts the Transactioneer's litany of strange births with the comment,
'I am afraid you are imposed upon by your Correspondents' (p. 54). This begins a
conversation which strikes simultaneously at Sloane and the network of
correspondents that sustains his publication.
Transact. I rely so much upon the sincerity of my Correspondents that I cannot tell how
to disbelieve it.
Gent.... I wonder how you should be so apt to believe them.
Transact. I beg your Pardon, If I tell you it's no wonder, for I am not inclined to destrust
Mankind.
Gent. To speak the Truth, indeed you have a peculiar faculty of believing almost any
thing: But pray what Reasons can be given to justifie the sincerity of your
Correspondents?
Transact. Reason! Psha! I don't trouble my self to enquire after the Reason of every
thing that's told me; if I should, I should have Work enough to find Reasons for every
thing that's Communicated in the Transactions, (pp. 54-55)
Sloane the enthusiast takes his communications on trust, but King suggests the
discriminating reader needs a more reliable way of judging the accuracy of reports.
This is a serious accusation against the Royal Society. As we have seen, satirists and
concerned insiders alike had discussed the qualifications required for those reporting
on experimental or natural phenomena.
Shapin's blanket assignment of
trustworthiness to those with the status of gentlemen does not seem to have satisfied
King.111 A graver issue, however, is the extent to which the editor of these
correspondents' contributions could be trusted. As the editor of the Transactions
was seen as the de facto mouthpiece of the Royal Society (though King does deny
this relationship in his Preface), bringing the Transactions into doubt also threw
doubt on the ability of the whole Society to sift out the truth from a mass of
information.
The second category of account might be characterised as reports of the
trivial or staggeringly obvious. As well as the splendid 'Fish different from one
another', this includes such redundant assertions as 'Hanging Mortal', 'That Men
no Reports of showers of fish, for example, were treated seriously for the first time by E. W. Gudger
in 1921 ('Rains of Fishes', Natural History vol. 21 (1921), pp. 607-19. I am indebted to Dr. Dana
Nielsen for this reference). The 'head that was a bag' is one of many accounts of monstrous births in
the Transactions: it belonged to 'an Infant who had two Heads; one Head was a Bag resembling the
Hood of a Benedictine Monk'. King also notices 'a Child bom without a Brain, which had it lived
long enough would have made an Excellent Publisher of Philosophical Transactions' (Transactioneer,
p. 56). Beans may easily have travelled to Britain from Jamaica on the Gulf Stream.
in
Johns also discusses the issue of veracity ('Piracy and Usurpation', pp. 469-74).
222
223
can't swallow when they're dead\ 'Drunkards not drowned by drinking", and
'Swallowing Pebles dangerous, and why1. In these examples, King takes slightly
more artistic licence with his original material when constructing his burlesque. The
Transactioneer's statement that 'Fish are not only different from other Animals; but
likewise differ very much from one another, there being scarce a Species of them,
that hath not remarkable differences', while perhaps not groundbreaking in itself,
was merely the introduction to a more detailed article in the Transactions (No. 225).
King repioduces very little of the article except statements which, when taken out of
context, sound like common knowledge. Once again, the Royal Society's desire to
explore every facet of a subject even though it confirmed previous assumptions
exposes them to ridicule.
A third category is that of the low, or circumstantial, account. King repeats
several reports of accidental poisoning which gave vulgar or unnecessary particulars
of the cases. For example,
Charles Worth . . . causing a Pye to be made of the said Poppy - and eating of the said
Poppy Pye, whilst hot, was presently taken with such a kind of a Dilirium, as made him
fancy that most that he saw was Gold, and calling for a Chamber-pot, being a White
Earthen one, after having purged by stool into it; he broke it into peices, and bid the bystanders to save them, for they were all Gold. . . . The Man and Maid Servants, having
also eat of the same Pye, strip 'd themselves quite naked, so danced one against another
a long time. (pp. 39-40)
King's Gentleman objects 'Methinks your Correspondent is very Circumstantial in
Relating the Circumstances and Symptoms of the Dilirium', and enquires how these
details contribute to 'the Advancement of Natural Knowledge'. To which the
Transactioneer replies,
If it encreases Knowledge, it certainly advances it: And pray, Does not a Man know
more that knows the Chamber-Pot was broke, than he that hears of a Dilirium, and
Purging? (p. 40)
Again, questions are asked about the usefulness of material included in the
Transactions. The Transactioneer, in his character of false philosopher or dilettante
virtuoso, deliberately confuses the increase with the advancement of knowledge, thus
making room for his own petty endeavours among the more worthwhile pursuits of
true philosophers. However, Peter Dear argues (partly on the basis of articles in the
Philosophical Transactions) that what outsiders saw as excessive circumstantiality
was actually a desirable mode of expression for the Royal Society, because it gave
the appearance of authenticity to their accounts.112 King's reading of the articles and
112
Dear, 'Totius in Verba\ pp. 153-4. This mode of authentication was not peculiar to the Royal
Society, though. A survey of the period's manuscript satires will identify many with titles describing
their provenance or circumstances of composition in minute, but completely spurious, detail. For
example, the compiler of British Library Harleian MS 7315 entered two verse 'prophecies' under the
following titles: 'A prophecy found under the foundation of the chapel of Wallingford House.
their attendant details would have differed radically from a Fellow's reading of the
same article, where minor details might have been welcomed as indicators of
truthfulness. This highlights the fact that the Transactions must have been read very
differently by different audiences, and that a particular interpretation marked
members of different audience groups. For King, the occasional grotesquerie of the
Transactions was a generic marker, allowing him to read them as (or translate them
into) a form of Menippean satire. Just as he had done with Lister's Journey, he
showed that the ostensibly scientific text could wilfully be misread as satiric.
King was also keen to suggest divisions in the Transactions''s primary
audience, the Society itself. In the Transactioneer, he highlighted several times the
existence of particular circles, or alliances, within the Royal Society. Naturally, he
concentrated on Sloane's part in creating or maintaining these circles. He repeatedly
revisited the subject of Sloane's 'great Correspondence' (p. 32), which of course
implied the existence of a wide circle of correspondents (of indeterminate reliability).
King also made a substantial detour from his standard Transactions-based material to
depict Sloane's relationship with James Petiver.113 The Transactioneer exclaims
'He's a F. of the R. S. indeed! I made him so. 'Tis my way of Rewarding my
Friends and Benefactors. We now begin to call it Our Royal-Society' (p. 33).
Petiver had in fact used the phrase 'our Royal Society' in his Museum Petiverianum,
though King repeats it out of context to make his point114 King also has the
Transactioneer describe what goes on at 'the Temple-Coffee-House Club', a
philosophical club of which Sloane is the president and Petiver 'the very Muffti, the
Oracle' (pp. 33-4).
The Transactioneer's amazement at the Gentleman's
ignorance of this club ('Where can you have lived? Why you must be an utter
Stranger to Philosophy . . . Oh for shame, let's see you there a Friday Night')
simultaneously suggests the relative unimportance of these philosophical circles for
many Londoners, and their members' distorted perception of their own importance.
Engraven in lead and discovered on Saturday the 2d of June 1694 and sent by Mr Thomas Povey to
the Lord Mayor who immediately proclaimed a fast thereon' (f. 233r); and (a parodic response) 'A
prophecy found under the treason bench in St James's Park the 12th of June engraved in copper and
carried to the Lord Chamberlain by Sergeant Barecroft' (f. 233V). It would be interesting to consider
how traditions of 'pseudo-authentication' such as these compare with the Royal Society's serious
attempts at authentication.
113
Petiver was an apothecary and amateur botanist who published his Museum Petiverianum in ten
'centuries' between the years 1695 and 1703.
114
Petiver, Musei Petiveriani Centuria Quarta et Quinta (London, 1699), p. 45. Petiver used the
phrase in his introduction of 'Dr. David Kreig, a German, Physician, and Fellow of our Royal
Society1. Presumably, he meant that Kreig was a Fellow of 'our' English Society, despite being a
German.
115
Johns writes that Robert Hooke was the Fellow who 'inaugurated the first "Clubb" of fellows'
which met secretly in an attempt to preclude plagiarism of Hooke's schemes {Nature of the Book,
p. 511). Bryant Lillywhite lists two Temple Coffee Houses at this period, but does not mention Royal
Society activity at either {London Coffee Houses (London, 1963), p. 568).
m
22.5
224
The Transactioneer speaks of himself and Petiver as having 'a kind of Joynt-Stock'
of 'Notions', to which they both contribute and withdraw at will. The detrimental
effect this close relationship could have on scientific enquiry is signalled when the
Gentleman notes the two 'vouch heartily for each other' (p. 38), though no-one else
will.
These attacks reflected more obviously on the Royal Society as an institution
than others King made against Sloane. King cast doubt on the intellectual
competence of the whole Society by suggesting that Sloane, himself an inadequate
scholar, was responsible for introducing his cronies as members. He also drew
attention to the ways in which power could be manipulated, even in such a
supposedly egalitarian institution as the Royal Society. In the same way, Sloane's
position as editor of the Transactions was compromised by his close relationships
with some of the contributors. If this was a veiled suggestion that standards had
slipped since inception, it echoed King's remarks in the Preface, where he professed
himself 'sorry to see that Excellent Society in any hazard of being Eclipsed by the
wretched Gambols' of Sloane and his correspondents.116
King repeated many of these arguments in his final attack on the Royal
Society, the parodic journal Useful Transactions in Philosophy (1709). The highlight
of this intermittant publication appears in the third volume, which includes 'a
Voyage to the Island of Cajamai in America. . . . after the Method used by Jasper
Van Slonenbergh, a Learned Member of the Royal Verluosi of Great Britain'.
Sloane's Voyage to Jamaica had obviously proved too irresistible for King to ignore
any longer as a source of parody, and he constructed his own Voyage out of Sloane's
in the way he had done several times before. As John Gay pointed out, King's
1 1 "7
'World of Wit' lay 'in one particular way of Raillery'.
When this grew stale, as it
seems to have done after the third number of the Useful Transactions, King ceased
production.
Conclusion
King's attacks, though they cover a range of topics, all centre on the way Fellows use
language. This is made very clear from the outset. King's method of repeating his
targets' actual words not only draws attention to what Lister and Sloane were saying,
but how they were saying it. He focuses on the way they constructed their works,
drawing attention to the processes by which scientific publications claimed authority
for their content. Adrian Johns discusses early attempts to guarantee the authenticity
of publications associated with the Society and its Fellows.118 The I
^lied on
its publications to gain credibility within the philosophical community as well as
outside it. Problems with plagiarism, pirated editions or unauthorized abridgements,
Johns argues, had the potential to undermine the Society and experimental
philosophy itself. One method of preventing 'usurpation' of texts was a rigorous
control of the conditions of printing: however, as the Society found, this was never
practical or entirely effective. Instead, some of the more prominent experimenters
resorted to keeping their work secret in an atmosphere of increasing distrust and
paranoia.119 King may well have exacerbated the situation by demonstrating how
easily experimental material might be reconstituted into a form other than its author
originally intended, with alamiing consequences for the original author and any
reader tricked into taking the work seriously. Johns suggests that this type of parody
was 'the dominant mode of satire directed against followers of the experimental
philosophy'.120
However, there is more to King's work than simple parody. King's satires
follow a Lucianic model, in their use of the dialogue form, their attacks on
philosophers, and their use of phrases from other works (in this case, Lister's and
Sloane's publications). King had made more obvious use of Lucian's form in his
Dialogues of the Dead, in which he attacked Bentley. His use of this form places
King in a tradition of erudite satire closer to Menippean than formal verse satire. No
doubt King hoped his erudite readers would recall Lucian's mockery of the
pretensions of philosophers in his own satiric dialogues, and would apply this
knowledge to their readings of King. Lucian undermines all the philosophical
schools in turn, arguing among other things that philosophy is a pointless exercise
because philosophers can never ultimately agree on the right way to live, and that
philosophers themselves are hypocrites, because they do not follow their own tenets.
Obviously, both these points have a direct relevance to King's (and Butler's) attacks
on the Royal Society, in which the gap between Sprat's ideal vision of the
experimental life, and its reality, is constantly highlighted.
Butler's and King's satires against the Royal Society can be read instructively
for their comments on the workings of the early Royal Society. As the preceding
discussions have shown, the satirists continually draw attention to several topics: the
Fellows' claims to disinterestedness; the nature of their meetings; the validity of
experimental knowledge and whether knowledge-claims can be assessed by
118
Johns, 'Piracy and Usurpation', passim.
" Johns notes that Hooke was cooperative with his experiments 'until repeated plagiarism rendered
him "close and reserved'" (ibid., p. 473), and that 'he accused the French Academie Royale des
Sciences of stealing his ideas' (p. 510).
120
Ibid., p. 456.
1
116
King, Transactioneer, sig. A3 r .
117
Gay, The Present State of Wit, in a Letter to a Friend in the Country ed. Donald F. Bond (Augustan
Reprint Society No. 3, Ann Arbor, 1947), p. 1.
226
outsiders; and the operation of the philosophical community. Generally, the satirists
respond to the Society's own claims about its endeavours, articulated primarily in
Sprat's Histoiy, but also in other early works published under the Society's auspices.
By undermining the official line, Butler and King question the nature of the Society
and its program, and in particular, the way the Society attempted to position itself as
an institution in the intellectual and cultural fields of early-modern England. They
emphasise apparent deviations in practice from the Society's stated aims and
methods, inclining their devotion to practical knowledge, and their willingness to
accept anyone into their society.
In the course of their attacks, Butler and King imply that the experimental
program is not as unlike that of traditional philosophy as the new philosophers would
have everyone believe. While neither satirist makes this claim specifically, both
characterise the methods of the Royal Society in ways which draw attention to
similarities with scholastic methods. The dependence of experimental philosophy's
authority on performance and discussion (or argument), for example, is not unlike
scholasticism's use of performance in disputations as a way of validating knowledgeclaims. The same rhetoric of persuasion is used to convince hearers of Aristotelian
and experimental theories of knowledge, but the scholastics admit this whereas the
new philosophers claim to reject rhetoric altogether. Similarly, King highlights the
arcane expressions and involved descriptions constantly used by the new
philosophers in their reports despite much debate over a language suitable for
practical experimental knowledge. While neither King nor Butler attempts to
reassert the authority of Aristotle in the field of philosophy, nevertheless they
destabilize the concrete boundaries experimental philosophers were so careful to set
up between the two epistemologies.
227
'Societies are Immortal': community and controversy
Following Bentley's first Dissertation the Christ Church wits, as we have seen
university men do before, responded corporately to a perceived slight upon one of
their members. Throughout the controversy, members of the group used their satires
not only to attack Bentley, but to remind him precisely who he had had the temerity
to engage in battle. It has often been demonstrated that the wits cast themselves as
cultured gentlemen, and Bentley as a pedant. Just as importantly, however, the
Christ Church men cast themselves as a social unit. There was a strong sense of
corporate endeavour about their attacks. In Dr. Bentley's Dissertations. .. Examin 'd
the collaborators urged Bentley to
take care, when the Angry Fit is upon him, not to vent it upon Great Bodies of Learned
Men. A Single Writer may be trampl'd upon now and then, and receive Correction from
his Hand without endeavouring to return it: but among Numbers there will always be
found Some, who have Ability, and Inclination, and Leisure enough to do Themselves
and their Friends right upon the Injurer; tho' he were a Champion often times as much
Strength and Prowess, as Dr Bentley thinks himself to be. Besides, Single Adversaries
dye, and drop off; but Societies are Immortal: their Resentments are sometimes
deliver'd down from hand to hand; and when once they have begun with a man, there is
no knowing when they will leave him.121
The single phrase 'Societies are Immortal* sums up the powerful social position the
Christ Church men believed themselves to occupy. According to James Henry
Monk, the Christ Church wits threatened 'that if the Doctor were not quiet, "they
would put forth a book against him for every month as long as he lived'".122
They were probably quite capable of doing so. Thomas Rymer, in his Essay
concerning Critical and Curious Learning, depicts this Christ Church alliance as a
peculiar attribute of the college:
I fancy this Book [Dr. Bentley's Dissertations . . . Examin'd] was written (as most
Publick Compositions in that College are) by a Select Club. There is such a profusion of
Wit all along, and such variety of Points and Raillery, that every Man seems to have
thrown in a Repartee or so in his turn, and the most Ingenious Dr. Aldrich no doubt was
a the Head of them, and smoaked and punned plentifully on this Occasion. It brings the
old Character of Christ-Church very fresh into my Mind; which you may remember
distinguished it self from the rest of the University, not by its Extraordinary Learning,
but its abominable Arrogance.123
'An engagement of porcupines': Bentley, the Christ Church wits, and Swift
Previous assessments of the controversy over the Epistles of Phalaris have tended to
focus on biographical questions, on particular texts, and, more recently, on the
episode's significance for the period's intellectual history. In a brief discussion here,
I will demonstrate links between this controversy and the tradition of erudite satire.
As 1 will show, the satirical modes used by participr nts were very similar to those
used by earlier erudite satirists. Writers drew on traditional models of satire, and
attacked their targets on familiar grounds. The question, then, is how did these
models of satire function against their erudite victims, and how did the victims
respond?
Rymer himce;f had been a Cambridge man, but had transferred to Gray's Inn without
taking a degree. He draws upon traditional university mythology and expects his
audience to be familiar at least with 'the old Character of Christ-Church', even if
121
122
Boyle, Dr. Bentley's Dissertations... Examin 'd, pp. 289-90.
Monk, Life of Bentley, vol. I, p. 127.
Rymer, An Essay concerning Critical and Curious Learning (London, 1698), pp. 63-4.
228
229
they do not subscribe to the same opinion. Rymer lays much of the blame for this
character of Christ Church on its current Dean, Dr. Henry Aldrich. He finds that
in another Book published last Week, called Examen Poeticum Duplex, &c. that [Dean
Aldrich] has suffered some of his College to make Sport with [Dr. Bentley] in their
Occasional Compositions. Amongst other things, some Body has endeavoured his
Character in two Epigrams . . . I am assured they were made in Christ-Church, and
either by the Dean himself, or a Brother Doctor at least.. .. Another Gentleman, of the
same College, has strained hard in a Poem, intitled Articuli Pads, to bring in a smart
Verse upon him, viz.
Anglo-Grceco-Latino-crepundia Bentleiana.m
The epigrams to which Rymer referred are entitled 'Intellectus agens illuminat
phantasmata. Ad R. B. bibliothecarium philocriticum', and 'Forma ultima est
specifica. Ad Eundem, De conversione Malela seu Malala nominis Syriaci in
Malelas nomen Greecum'.125 Neither has anything particularly cutting to say, both
holding Bentley's scholarship up to ridicule while at the same time mocking his selfopinion as a 'bene notus homo'.
Bentley's high opinion of himself was one of the grounds on which he was
attacked most frequently, and certainly contributed to the length of the controversy.
Being puffed-up with self-esteem was a most ungentlemanlike characteristic, and
obviously deserved to be punished. However, interestingly, the wits focussed on one
reason for Bentley's high self-esteem in particular: the praise he was given by
Continental scholars (of which he made no secret). Like the new philosophers in the
Royal Society, Bentley was part of a circle of international eruditi.126 His first major
contribution to scholarship, the Epistola ad Millium (Oxford, 1691), was greeted
with acclaim by erudite contemporaries on the Continent, and he established
correspondences with several.127 His willingness (and ability) to discuss mutual
research interests with the wider scholarly community of Europe distinguished him
from his Christ Church opponents, who were much more concerned with
ecclesiastical and political matters at home.
David Money cites one occasion on which the wits mocked Bentley's
interaction with the Republic of Letters. In a spurious fable printed at the close of
Anthony Alsop's edition of Aesopian fables, the dog in the manger (that is, Bentley)
responds to the ox's insults by claiming that 'races unknown' to the ox praise him,
and 'if foreigners know anything' he surpasses all dogs for his 'humanity'.128 As
Money says, the dog's 'pride depends on the high opinion of foreigners, something
of which Bentiey, with his international scholarly correspondence, was indeed
proud'. King made the same joke about Bentley in his dialogue 'Self-love, or the
Beau'. One of his speakers, Ricardo, wonders 'can any thing be more tender than
what, the Criticks tell Bentivoglio, That they keep his Epistles more carefully than
dry'd Grapes, or Preserv'd Pine-Apples'.129 Bentivoglio, of course, is Bentley. In
accordance with King's usual mode of operation, a marginal note at this point refers
the reader back to Bentley's own work, in which he had printed a letter from the
Dutch scholar Graevius which did in fact contain this phrase.130 King, through
Ricardo, also announces the news that Bentley 'has receiv'd Thanks from all the
Lovers of Polite Learning', and 'is Reverenc'd by all for being the New and RisingStar, and the brightest light of Britain''; again, marginal notes refer the reader to
Bentley' s Dissertation.'3 J
In printing these comments, Bentley had employed a similar strategy to that
of the Christ Church men, in emphasising his network of alliances. If Boyle was
determined to fix Bentley's character as wholly contemptible, Bentley declared, '//
will ly upon him to dispute with some other Persons, who have been pleas 'd to
declare publicly such an esteem of Me and my Writings, as does not altogether agree
with Mr. B[oyle]V. In fact, Boyle and the Christ Church wits 'must commence a
Critical War' against Graevius and Spanheim at least.132 It is not difficult to see in
this comment the seed of Swift's Battle of the Books.
Opposing this axis of scholars was the wits' own network of Christ Church
men and gentlemenly men of affairs. By marking Bentley as 'other' from this
particular group (which had significant political and ecclesiastical connections in
Britain), the wits were in effect putting him on the cultural sidelines, irrespective of
his own scholarly significance.133 As we have seen, King had similarly undermined
Martin Lister's and Sir Hans Sloane's demonstration of their own wide network of
erudite contacts.
128
124
Ibid., pp. 69-72.
Examen Poeticum Duplex sive Musarum Anglicanarum Delectus Alter (London, 1698), pp. 2 46-8.
126
Monk, Life of Bentley, pp. 49ff.
127
Sandys, following Monk, quotes the comments of Graevius (Johann Georg Greffe, or Graeve) and
Ezechiel Spanheim on the 'new luminary' of British letters. He also lists a number of Bentley's
continental correspondents, and comments that Dutch scholarship, in particular, owed a great deal to
Bentley's influence (History of Classical Scholarship, vol. II, pp. 402, 408-9).
125
Fabularum Aesopicanim Delectus (Oxford, 1698), p. 128; repr. and translated in Money, English
Horace, p. 8 1 .
129
King, Dialogues of the Dead, p. 22.
Bentley, Dissertation . . . with an Answer, p. liii. The letter from Graevius was printed as part of
Bentley's rebuttal of plagiarism accusations.
131
King, Dialogues of the Dead, pp. 23-4; Bentley, Dissertation . . . with an Answer, pp. xlviii-xlix,
lxxix-lxxx.
132
Bentley, Dissertation .. . with an Answer, p. lxxix.
133
Bentley was not elected to the Mastership of Trinity College, Cambridge, until several months after
the appearance of the Dissertation . . . with an Answer. He still occupied the position as royal librarian
which he had held during the first stage of the controversy.
230
King's Dialogues of the Dead attack Bentley, Wotton and 'Modern Learning'
in a series of Lucianic dialogues which take place in the underworld.134 To a certain
extent, his choice of form forced King to depart from his usual method of satirizing
individuals by quoting their own words in absurd contexts. Instead, he reports
conversations between such shades as Hesychius and Francis Gouldman (both
lexicographers), Phalaris and 'the Sophist', and 'Lilly the Astrologer' and Christoph
Helwig (both writers of chronologies). Ancient and modem representatives of
various branches of learning argue over the contributions of the modems, particularly
those of Bentivoglio. Unlike the Gentleman in King's other dialogue satire, The
Transactioneer, these mouthpieces of gentlemanly values are not mere foils to the
foolishness of their interlocutors. Rather, they attempt to demolish the moderns'
claimed achievements with arguments of their own. Helvicus concludes his dialogue
by telling Lilly plainly, 'You and Bentivoglio are a disgrace to Chronology; which is
a Study that has, and does employ the care of the greatest Men in Church and
State'. 135
Instead of letting his opponents damn themselves with their own foolishness,
King marshalls the same arguments that had been used by the wits previously:
'Bentivoglio is a Heavy Writer . . . there are mighty Disputations whether he has least
Wit, Judgement, or Good-manners'; Bentley uses neologisms; he 'Amplifies,
Expatiates and Comments upon himself; his learning is pedantic, trivial and
useless.136 This is no attempt to rebut Bentley's philological assertions, as previous
Christ Church productions had been. It reorients the controversy into its original
position as a single encounter in the war between ancients and modems - a process
completed by Swift in The Battle of the Books. By denying Bentley his own voice in
the dialogues, King excludes him from the proceedings, and by failing to engage
with his scholarly propositions, denies him the opportunity of effective rebuttal. As
we have seen, previous satirists used strategies such as these to redefine the field of
battle, silencing an opponent by shifting the grounds on which the struggle was
taking place.
This strategy included, in some cases, a re-emphasis on audience. Not only did
the Phalaris controversy involve networks of participants and their friends, but it was
also played out in front of a wide and varied audience. As Money writes, the
controversy attracted interest in both the academic world, 'and among that
considerable part of polite society that cultivated a reputation for learning by taking
134
Levine discusses King's Dialogues in relation to the Phalaris controversy in Battle of the Books,
pp. 102-6. A more detailed analysis has been made by Engel in Ingenious Dr King, pp. 201-31.
135
King, Dialogues of the Dead, p. 41.
13b
Ibid., pp. 2,6, 21,26, 39.
231
sides in academic disputes'.137 Swift, in particular, used this sense of public interest
to his advantage. In the Bookseller's statement to the Reader which prefaced The
Battle of the Books, Swift situated his satire in its proper context for any readers who
had not been paying attention to the controversy.
The Controversy took its Rise from an Essay of Sir William Temple's . . . which was
answer'd by W. Wotton, B.D. with an Appendix by Dr. Bently, endeavouring to destroy
the Credit of /Esop and Phalaris . . . In that Appendix, the Doctor falls hard upon a new
Edition of Phalaris, put out by the Honourable Charles Boyle (now Earl of Orrery) to
which, Mr. Boyle replyed at large, with great Learning and Wit; and the Doctor,
voluminously, rejoyned. In this Dispute, the Town highly resented to see a Person of Sir
William Temple's Character and Merits, roughly used by the two Reverend Gentlemen
aforesaid, and without any manner of Provocation.138
In drawing his readers' attention to the wider dispute, Swift used techniques which
we have seen other erudite satirists employ - he reminded his readers that the text
was part of an ongoing controversy in which the main combatants were Wotton and
Bentley on the side of the Modems, and Temple and Boyle supporting the Ancients.
However, he also gives a handy interpretation for those unsure of which side they
were supposed to be supporting. The offerings of Boyle had combined learning with
wit; those of Wotton and Bentley were, at most, learned. Most importantly, all were
written under the interested gaze of 'the Town'. The narrator explains that he relates
his story 'because the Talk of this Battel is so fresh in every body's Mouth, and the
Expectation of the Town so great to be informed in the Particulars'.139 Swift's
conception of the battle emphasised its public nature, and in so doing, gave the final
judgment to those whose opinions mattered the most: the town wits. Money remarks
'Observers in society were less interested in the truth of the more detailed academic
arguments than in the style, confidence, and wit of their presentation'.140 hi effect,
there were two distinct audiences witnessing (and adjudicating) the battle, and both
sides played to their supporters.141
As with the rest of the texts which make up the controversy, much has been
written about The Tale of a Tub, and its 'little companion piece', The Battle of the
137
Money, English Horace, p. 77.
Swift, A Full and True Account of the Battel. . . between the Antient and the Modern Books in A
Tale of a Tub ed. Guthkelch and Nichol Smith, pp. 213-14.
139
Ibid., p. 244.
Money, English Horace, p. 77. Macaulay claims that Dr. Bentley's Dissertations . . . Examin'd
'was to be found, not only in the studies of men of letters, but on the tables of rhe most brilliant
drawing-rooms of Soho Square and Covent Garden' ('Francis Atterbury', p. 286).
141
Levine quotes Atterbury as writing that the town was 'wonderfully pleased' with The Tale of a Tub
(Levine, Battle of the Books, p. 112); many, however, disliked its perceived attacks on religion
(Miriam Kosh Starkman, Swift's Satire on Learning in A Tale of a Tub (Princeton, N.J., 1950),
pp. xiv-xv).
138
232
Books.]A2 Despite Levine's assertion to the contrary, I would argue that Swift was
writing about the controversy from a slightly different point of view from that of the
Christ Church wits. His primary motivation in The Battle was defence of Temple,
who had been his patron. This in itself suggests that his stance was closer to
Temple's, in that he was more interested in the battle between ancients and modems
than the controversy over the proper uses of learning. He was certainly not
motivated by the sense of collective honour that stung the Christ Church men into
action. Levine states that Swift 'did not intend to add anything substantive to the
quarrel; he was determined rather, like any prejudiced reporter, to assign his own
meaning to the event, to award the palm to the ancients, and to leave posterity in no
doubt whatever about the outcome'.143
Swift himself saw the literary battle as a series of 'Disputes, Arguments,
Rejoynders, Brief Considerations, Answers, Replies, Remarks, Reflexions,
Objections, Confutations', in which both sides claimed to be victors.144 However,
his vision was broader than those who merely contributed another confutation or
rejoinder to the growing pile. While his attitude to the issues at stake may have
resembled that of the other Ancients, his satirical strategy differed markedly. Instead
of straightforwardly stating his opinion, and maintaining the correctness of that
opinion in the face of others' incorrect opinions, as academic disputants (and many
academic satirists) tended to do, he relocated the argument, linking it with another
seemingly unrelated argument about abuses in religion.145 The text's satire on
learning is relegated to several digressions that interrupt the 'main' narrative. These
are accompanied by 'A digression in praise of digressions', a seemingly-paradoxical
encomium that casts further doubt on the status of the previous digressions. The text
is incomplete, interrupted by lacunae at vital parts of the narrative.146 It is
accompanied by the trappings of a learned edition, including notes and prefatory
material: these, however, are of ambiguous provenance. At one point Swift's
narrator mocks the scholarly art of commonplacing, but later he seems to endorse
it.147 Although the reader is left with the overwhelming impression that the Ancients
were nobler and wiser than the Moderns, the method in which the text is presented
142
Levine's phrase: he discusses Swift in his own Battle of the Books, pp. 115-20. Miriam Starkman's
Swift's Satire is still useful.
143
Levine, Battle of the Books, p. 116.
144
Swift, Battle of the Books, p. 222.
145
Although the two parts are not completely unrelated when one remembers that the new philology
claimed power over the interpretation of the Bible.
146
Richard N. Ramsey has argued that Swift uses lacunae to avoid having to describe the defeat of
moderns whose achievements were demonstrably worthwhile ('Swift's Strategy in The Battle of the
Books', Papers on Language and Literature vol. 20 (1984), pp. 382-9).
147
Swift, Tale of a Tub, pp. 2 0 9 - 1 0 , 2 3 1 .
233
consistently undermines its own claims to authority. What was its author attempting
to do?
Conclusion: anti-intellectual erudition?
From the description just given, it is apparent that The Tale of a Tub and The Battle
of the Books share many of the characteristics of Menippean satire. Indeed, most of
King's satires, and Butler's Hudibras, can also be identified as Menippean. The
Christ Church wits' Dr. Bentley'sDissertations . . . Examin'd, in which scholarship
was mixed with personal attack and satire, contained Menippean elements. Even
Bentley's great contribution to scholarship, the 1699 edition of the Dissertation,
would require very little tweaking to recast it as a Menippean satire. Its anatomy-like
exhaustiveness on all the topics raised by the Phalaris controversy, and its attempt to
give a complete and final discussion of the question, turn it into what might be called
a 'Menippean anti-satire' - a serious attempt at the Menippean mock-catalogue.
At the heart of Menippean satire is the illusory nature of order and control.
Philosophies, societies, bodies and, most importantly, literary texts are shown to be
messy, incomplete and unreliable. Instead of arguing that they have the answers to
the world's problems, Menippean satirists argue that there are no answers - but they
do it in such a way as to obscTc even this argument. Everything, even the satire and
satirist himself, is drawn into the chaotic world of Menippean satire. At first sight,
Swift's satires, and those of King and Butler, do not seem to fit this description
because they, surely, are arguing one particular point very strongly, that modem
learning is useless and dangerous. Taking generic markers into consideration,
though, a different point of view begins to emerge. None of these authors succeeds
in setting up a valid alternative to the philosophy of learning they attack. Butler does
not really make the attempt; King and Swift do so in ways that undermine the
process.
Several factors can be identified which may have made Menippean satire a
desirable way for learned writers to articulate anxieties about learning in the
Augustan age. First, the tone of polite society was firmly anti-intellectual.
Shadwell's The Virtuoso opens with a scene in which Longvil enters to find Bruce in
his dressing-gown, reading Lucretius.
Longvil. Lucretius! Divine Lucretius! But my noble Epicurean, what an unfashionable
fellow art thou, that in this age art given to understand Latin.
234
235
Bruce. 'Tis true, Longvil. I am a bold fellow to pretend to it when 'tis accounted
pedantry for a Gentleman to spell and where the race of gentlemen is more degenerated
than that of horses.148
Longvil and Bruce are described in the Dramatis Personae as 'Gentlemen of wit and
sense', set up as foils for the ludicrous Virtuoso, Sir Nicholas Gimcrack. Apparently,
both know and admire the works of Lucretius - but to admit to this in company
would be a bold and unfashionable move.149 As we have seen, accusations of
pedantry dogged Bentley and Wotton, and to be a pedant barred one from being a
gentleman. Yet this must have caused something of a disturbance in the psyches of
many who, like Longvil and Bruce, enjoyed classical writers other than the
ubiquitous Horace, Vergil, and Homer (in translation). For those like Butler, King
and Swift whose world was the town and the courts, a traditional humanist education
was problematic. How were they to apply their learning to modern society? In their
attempts to explore this question they turned to Menippean satire, knowing that the
form had been used by previous satirists for similar purposes. In this way they could
question received philosophical or ideological tenets even while seeming to endorse
them, and while using their language and methodologies.
Second, the new learning by its very nature lent itself to Menippean satire.
Bentley's Dissertation could have been re-named the Anatomy ofPhalaris, in that it
resembled Burton's more famous Anatomy in the vastness of its sphere of erudition.
Likewise, Lister's Journey to Paris, and the Philosophical Transactions themselves,
were almost encyclopaedic in their reach. Experimental philosophers were
mercilessly mocked for wanting to know about even the tiniest creature, but that was
the point of the new philosophy. The descriptive cataloguing of nature heralded a
new age of knowledge, and to be useful, that knowledge had to include everything.
Similarly, Bentley's much maligned familiarity with lexicons and commentaries
reflected the needs of the new classical philology: to establish a firm basis for editing
texts, scholars needed to know as much as possible about those texts and any other
related texts. As we have seen, Menippean satirists were attracted to philosophies
that attempted to present a complete and orderly view of the world. The temptation
to insert some chaos into the philological and experimental programs of the new
eruditi must have been overwhelming.
This leads to the third factor: the new philosophy's claims. As we have seen,
the Royal Society was careful to distance itself from investigations which could be
seen as atheistical, and therefore they left theological speculations to the clergy.
However, they did tend to promote the new learning as a more certain way of
understanding the world and its complexity. Experimental evidence and theories
were discussed, repeated and tested. If they stood up to this scrutiny, they were
assumed to be truth - a truth which all should accept and, preferably, incorporate into
their daily activities. Similarly, Bentley's arrogance in pressing his conclusions
about the ancient world reflected the belief that by following his method, and
assessing all the evidence in a systematic fashion, a more solid understanding of
historical fact could be reached. He seems never to have acknowledged that his
detractors preferred heroic myth to the fact of Thericlean cups - but he was certain
about the cups. Menippean satire, however, works against certainty and faith in a
single verifiable and quantifiable truth. Swift demonstrated that no intellectual
system is fool-proof when he constructed his elaborate parody of a scholarly work
and peopled it with madmen. Butler demonstrated that no philosophy is safe from
enthusiasm, and King asked his readers whether any could be consistent with polite
tenets of good breeding and wit.
As I have argued, these satires do fulfil some of the functions we have come
to associate with erudite satire. They all deal with the somewhat problematic
question of how learning should function within a society. They characterise (or
stereotype) the practitioners of the new philosophy, and then construct a picture of
how these men relate to the town, or to the universities. They also demonstrate ways
in which their targets interact with each other in erudite networks of correspondents
and fellow-philosophers. They focus on language. They emphasise personalities and
performances, undermining the new philosophers' claims to objectivity by showing
their work to be affected by weaknesses and enthusiasms. However, they do not set
up a clear alternative to the folly they expose, or if they do, it is only in a negative
sense. Their satires, while primarily intended to attack specific men for reasons that
were only partly based on philosophical differences, also reflect the wider problem of
what it meant to be an intellectual in Augustan society. This was not a problem
which could be solved in the cut and thrust of literary controversy or even with
Swift's incisive satire. It persisted well into the eighteenth century: Pope's Dunciad
was another such response, and even he found that satire was an ineffectual weapon
against encroaching Dulness.
148
Shadwell, The Virtuoso ed. Marjorie Hope Nicolson and David Stuart Rodes (London, 1966),
I.i. 18-24.
149
Epicureanism itself was a controversial subject during the period. Howard Jones discusses
Epicureanism in the context of attacks on the Royal Society in The Epicurean Tradition (London and
New York, 1989), pp. 205-10.
tlh
237
236
Conclusion
Satire, like other forms of literary production, served various functions at different
times among the eraditi of early-modem England. In some circumstances, it created
and upheld boundaries between social groups defined by collegial, political, religious
or intellectual affiliations. It could also subvert these boundaries, or call them into
question, forcing members of communities to redefine their allegiances to a
particular set of standards or philosophies. It is difficult, and probably rather
pointless, to attempt an overarching theory of the function of erudite satire in earlymodem communities. However, close attention to individual satires and the way
they respond to specific situations reveals some common features.
• emphasis on identity and relationships
Satire provided a way of defining its author's (or authorial collective's) individual
and social identity. There are two reasons why this might be so. First, in the
process of attacking or mocking someone else, the satirist was forced to identify
himself, and the differences between himself and his target. The construction or
erosion of identity, therefore, is central to satire as a genre. Second, erudite writers
felt strong ties to their intellectual communities, such as colleges or universities, or
a network of erudite correspondents. They were drawn to satire as a means of
defending these communities from outsiders' attacks, or of exploring the internal
dynamics of the community.
• use of performance or dialogue
Erudite satirists loved to have an audience. I have argued that the residually
scholastic nature of the early-modern universities meant university men were most
comfortable with an opponent they could see, answer, and occasionally jostle as
they passed him on the stairs. It was natural that their literary arguments were
carried out with a similar attention to the presence and voices of the author and his
audience. Obviously, ludic speeches and satirical plays gave ample opportunity for
performer grandstanding and audience humiliation or hilarity. However, many
purely literary satires also played to one section of their audience while mocking
another. Like disputants, they responded in specific and minute detail to the
responses of previous satirists. This created a history and context for their own
work and ensured their audience knew the background so they could follow the
argument - and thus fully appreciate the current text.
• responses to particular occasions
Overwhelmingly, the erudite satires in this study have been prompted by a specific
occasion. They might have been a response to an ongoing literary controversy, a
comment on an event, an attack on a person, or a text to be performed at a
particular Act or Commencement. It was this close connection with actual events
and people that probably led to many of them surviving in manuscript
compilations: they provided a commentary on intellectual affairs which gave them
a significance beyond their own specific arguments.
• preoccupation with language
Unsurprisingly, early-modem erudite satirists were fascinated with language, its
power, and how it might be manipulated for good or evil. Their addiction to puns
and wordplay reflected the prevailing character of university wit. However,
satirists also dealt with the significance of Latin, using it as a way to divide the
educated from the uneducated. They commented on other erudite writers' use of
language, pointing out errors as a way of undermining arguments. Satirists' own
playful use of words could simultaneously demonstrate their mastery of language
and show how language could be subverted for particular ends.
Further investigation
In the course of this study, it has become clear that there is scope for a great deal
more work in the area of early-modern university writing. As a beginning,
manuscripts of university provenance need to be identified, and their contents
properly indexed. Most of the work currently being undertaken in the area of earlymodem manuscript studies is focussed on poetry, and on particular authors or
coteries, most of whom were connected with the court or town in some way.
However, as this study has shown, there is a large quantity of interesting prose and
poetry which either lacks attribution or was written by minor university authors, and
remains hidden in manuscript miscellanies. These texts need to be made accessible
to scholars, in a way that reveals their significance to transcribers, and their
relationship with other texts found in the same manuscript. The results would
provide a valuable insight into the preoccupations, literary and otherwise, of earlymodem scholars.
239
238
In general, and specifically with regards to this proposed investigation, more
work needs to be done on the neo-Latin literature of the seventeenth and earlyeighteenth centuries. It is well-known, and many scholars have pointed out in
passing, that Latin was a living language among the scholarly community until the
close of the seventeenth century, if not later. Yet neo-Latin texts have been
consistently overlooked by scholars more interested in the growth of vernacular
literatures. Compilers of manuscript indexes have chosen not to include neo-Latin
works, thus rr-iking i: difficult to find texts or even to realise how wide a range of
early-modem neo-Latin writing is extant in manuscript. The study of neo-Latin
writing of all kinds, not just poetry, needs to be encouraged and supported by the
provision of proper bibliographic tools, and the recognition that such texts had a
major influence on many vernacular works and writers.
Any scholarly study is bound to uncover as many questions as it does
answers, and the present work is no exception. Further investigation into earlymodem satire might consider such topics as the relationship between satire, news,
and gossip; the performance of satire and the early-modem audience; and the
relationship between satiric persona and authorial voice. Investigations into
university culture might include more work on cultural production at university
festivities; the relationship between university and town culture during the
Restoration period; and the extent to which the rise of individualism came into
conflict with coiporate ways of expressing identity in the eighteenth century.
The most useful conclusion that can be drawn from the present study is that erudite
satires did have a specific function for their authors and within particular
communities, and that they mattered a great deal to their producers and consumers.
They reward investigation by providing new insights into early-modem social
relations and cultural production. When considered within their specific occasional
context, erudite satires can bring the contemporary events they describe, and the
characters they lampoon, vividly to life.
Appendix: Ludic university speeches*
* I have not seen underlined sources. I am indebted to Kristine Haugen for bringing
Trinity College, Dublin MS 879/1 to my attention, and to Steven Tomlinson at the
Bodleian Library for supplying me with the foliation for Joseph Brooks's terrae filius
speech in Rawl. D. 191.
Terrae filius speeches
• 1607 - Thomas Tomkins:
British Library Add. MS 22915, ff. 37r-39r.
• c.l 615 [fragment, author unknown]
Cambridge, Gonville and Caius College Library, MS 73/40, f. 342r
Wordsworth, Scholae Academicae, p. 288.
• 1663 - John Edwards (St. John's):
Bodleian MS Rawl. D. 975, pp. 15-25
• 1663 - Joseph Brooks (Ch. Ch.):
Bodleian Library MS Add. A. 368, ff. 41r-45v
Bodleian Library MS Don. f. 29, ff. 76v-56v [rev.; versos only]
Bodleian Library MS Locke e. 17, pp. 100-119
Bodleian Library MS Rawl. D. 191, ff. 24r-34v
Bodleian Library MS Rawl. D. 1110, ff. 28v-34r
Cardiff Central Library MS. 1.482, ff.l03v-106r [incomplete]
University of Leeds, Brotherton MS Lt 38, ff. !4r-20r
University of Minnesota MS 690235 f, pp. 221-7
• 1669 - Henry Gerard (Wadham):
Bodleian Library MS Add. A. 368, ff. lr-5v
Bodleian Library MS Don. f. 29, ff. 105v-91v [rev., versos only]
Bodleian Library MS Eng. poet, f. 13, ff. 180r-181r [incomplete]
Bodleian Library MS Hearne's Diaries 52, pp. 19-39
Bodleian Library MS Lat. misc. e. 19, ff. 11 lr-119r
Bodleian Library MS Rawl. D. 191, ff. 35r-43r
Bodleian Library MS Rawl. D. 1151, ff. 67r-74v
Bodleian Library MS Top. Oxon. e. 202, ff. lr-14r
British Library MS Sloane 203, ff. 92r-93v [incomplete]
Cardiff Central Library MS. 1.482, ff.85v-92v
Queen's College, Oxford, MS 478, ff. 6v-13r
Society of Antiquaries of London, MS 330, ff.76r-73r [rev.]
University of Leeds, Brotherton MS Lt 38, ff. 20r-24v
University of Minnesota MS 690235 f, pp. 70-79
Yale University Osborn MS b. 52, pp. 201-5
Operapostuma Latina... Roberti South (London, 1717)
i
241
240
• 1671 -John Rotherham (Ch. Ch.):
Bodleian Library MS Don. f. 29, ff. 55v-38v [rev.; versos only]
Bodleian Library MS Rawl. D. 1021, ff. 20r-23v
Bodleian Library MS Rawl. D. 1151, ff."59v-66v
Bodleian Library MS Rawl. Q. e. 34, ff. lr-6v
Bodleian Library MS Top. Oxon. e. 202, ff. 105r-114r
British Library Add. MS 4455, ff. 77r-82r
University of Minnesota MS 690235 f, pp. 59-70
Operapostuma Latina ... Roberti South (London, 1717)
• 1673 - John Shirley (Trinity):
Bodleian Library MS Don. f. 29, ff. 85-103r, 106r-107v
Bodleian Library MS Raw!. B. 403, ff. lr-lOr
Wood. Life and Times, Vol. II, pp. 266-7 (partial copy, taken from Bodl.
Rawl. B. 403)
• 1676 - Balthazar Vigures (St. Albans Hall):
University of Minnesota MS 690235 f, pp. 217-21
• 1676 - John Crofts (New):
University of Minnesota MS 690235 f, pp. 241-45
• 1693 - Henry Aylworth (Ch. Ch.):
Bodleian Library MS Eng. poet. f. 13, ff. 63v-67v
Bodleian Library MS Rawl. D. 912, ff. 159r-160v
Trinity College, Dublin MS 879/1. ff. 3v-8v
• 1703-Robert Roberts:
Bodleian Library MS Eng. poet. f. 13, ff. 147v-149v
Bodleian Library MS Rawl. D. 697, f. lr-v [incomplete]
Bodleian Library MS Tanner 338, ff. 205r-207v
University of Leeds, Brotherton MS Lt 11, pp. 21-26
• J 703 - Henry Turner (Ch. Ch.):
University of Leeds, Brotherton MS Lt 11, pp. 27-38.
[NB. Falconer Madan claims that speeches from 1648, 1654 and 1657 were also
preserved (Bodleian Quarterly Record, 1921, p. 124), but I have not been able to
locate them.]
Praevaricator speeches
• 1631 - Henry Vintner:
British Library Add. MS 4455, ff. 32v-35r
Cambridge University Library MS Dd.vi.30, ff. 47v-51r
Yale University, Osborn MS b. 200, pp. 158-65
• 1631 - James Duport (Trinity):
Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 89, pp. 38-56, 79-85
British Library Add. MS 4455, ff. 35v-42r
Cambridge, Gonville and Caius College Library, MS 627/250 ff.lr-8v
Wordsworth, Scholae Academicae (London, 1877; repr. 1968), pp. 274-86
1632 - Thomas Randolph (Trinity):
Bodleian Library MS Rawl. poet. 62, f. lr [incomplete]
British Library MS Add. 44693, ff. 22v-26r
Poetical and Dramatic Works of Thomas Randolph, ed. W. C. Hazlitt
(London, 1875), Vol. II, pp. 671-680
1651 - Thomas Fuller (Christ's):
British Library Add. MS 18220, ff. 80v-88r
British Library Add. MS 35333, ff. 29r-32r
Cambridge University Library MS Dd.vi.30, ff. 35v-41r
1660 - Charles Darby (Jesus):
Bodleian Library MS Top. Oxon. e. 344, ff. 156v-150r [rev]
Cambridge University Library MS Mm. v. 42, ff. 240r-244v
British Library Add. MS 35333, ff. 33r-38r
1668 - Benjamin Johnson [fragment]:
G. C. Moore Smith, 'Letters Written by John Gibson of S. John's College,
1667-70', Proceedings of the Cambridge Antiquarian Society 8 (1891-94),
70-72
Slubbes [no date]:
Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 89, pp. 86-91.
Music speeches
• c.l615 -Shepheard (Lincoln) [fragment]:
Cambridge, Gonville and Caius College Library, MS 73/40 f.341
Wordsworth, Scholae Academicae, pp. 287-8
• [no date, author unknown]:
Cambridge University Library MS Mm. v. 42, ff. 222v-227r
• 1640-Richard West:
Bodleian Library MS Eng. misc. f. 653, pp. 30-43
Bodleian Library MS Rawl D. 361, ff. 72v-78v
Bodleian Library MS Tanner 88, pp. 17-19
British Library Add. MS 37999, ff. 66r-67v
• 1656 - Henry Thurman (Ch. Ch.):
Cambridge University Library MS Dd.vi.30, ff. 19v-25r
• c.l660 - John Fitzwilliams (Magdalen):
Bodleian Library MS Rawl. D. 1102, pp. 1-19
243
242
• 1661 - Richard Torless (St. John's):
Bodleian Library MS Add. A. 368, ff. 21r-26r
Bodleian Library MS Don. f. 29, ff. 26r-43r [rectos only]
Bodleian Library MS Eng. poet, e 4, pp. 206-12
Bodleian Library MS Raw! D. 361, ff. 222r-225v [incomplete]
Bodleian Library MS Rawl. D. 1102, pp. 19-30
Bodleian Library MS Top. Oxon. e. 202, ff. 31r-42r
Bodleian Library MS Top. Oxon. e. 344, ff. 148r-146r [rev]
Cambridge University Library MS Dd.vi.30, ff. 41r-45r
Duke University MS 12-14-71, pp. 73-83 [incomplete]
Society of Antiquaries of London. MS 330, ff. 33r-35v
University of Leeds, Brotherton MS Lt 38, ff. 2r-5v
• 1669 - Thomas Lawrence (Univ.):
Bodleian Library MS Add. A. 368, ff. 6r-12v
Bodleian Library MS Don. f. 29, ff. 90v-77v [rev., versos only]
Bodleian Library MS Heame's Diaries 52, pp. 1-19 [incomplete]
Bodleian Library MS Rawl. D. 191, ff. 43r-44v [incomplete]
Bodleian Library MS Rawl D. 361, ff. 226r-230v [incomplete]
Bodleian Library MS Rawl. D. 1102, pp. 32-43
Bodleian Library MS Top. Oxon. e. 202, ff. 15r-29r
Bodleian Library MS Top. Oxon. e. 344, f. 148v [rev] [incomplete]
British Library Add. MS 4455, ff. 60r-64r
British Library MS Sloane 203, ff. 89r-91v [incomplete]
Cardiff Central Library MS. 1.482, ff. 35v-44r
Queen's College, Oxford, MS 478, ff. 21v-29v
University of Leeds, Brotherton MS Lt 38, ff. 5v-14r
University of Minnesota MS 690235 f, pp. 249-53
• 1679 - James Allestree (Ch. Ch.):
[Prologue] Bodleian Library MS Rawl. D. 1481, f. 58r
Manchester, Chetham's Library, MS Mum. A4.14, pp. 72-3
Thomas Brown's Works in Two Volumes (1707-8), vol. II, pp. 94-5 (and
subsequent editions)
Danchin, Prologues and Epilogues, Vol. Ill, pp. 179-80
[Epilogue] Bodleian Library MS Rawl. D. 1481, f. 58r
Manchester, Chetham's Library, MS Mum. A4.14, p. 74
Danchin, Prologues and Epilogues, Vol. Ill, pp. 181-2
• 1680 - Edmund Norden (Ch. Ch.):
University of Minnesota MS 690235 f, pp. 245-48
• 1683 - Emanuel Langford (Ch. Ch.):
[Prologue] Bodleian Library MS Top. Oxon. e. 280, pp. 676-5 [rev]
[Epilogue] Bodleian Library MS Top. Oxon. e. 280, pp. 674-3 [rev]
Yale University Osbom MS fb. 142, p. 21
• 1693 - Thomas Smith (Univ.):
[Prologue] Bodleian Library MS Eng. poet. f. 13, ff. 61v-63v
Bodleian Library MS Top. Oxon. e. 280, pp. 672, 670 [rev]
Bodleian Library MS Top. Oxon. c. 326, ff. 52r and f.54r
Trinity College, Dublin MS 879/1, ff. 2v-3v
Yale University, MS Osbom b.l 15, ff.37v-39r
Yale University, MS Osbom c. 146, p. 46
Danchin, Prologues and Epilogues, Vol. V, pp. 124-6
[Epilogue] Bodleian Library MS Eng. poet. f. 13, f. 63r-v
Bodleian Library MS Top. Oxon. e. 280, pp. 668, 666 [rev]
Bodleian Library MS Top. Oxon. c. 326, ff. 52v and 55r
Yale University, MS Osbom b.l 15, ff.39r-40v
Danchin, Prologues and Epilogues, Vol. V, pp. 127-9
• 1714 - Roger Long (Pemb.), Cambridge:
The Music Speech, spoken at the Public Commencement in Cambridge,
July the 6th, 1714 (London, 1714)
Wordsworth, Social Life, pp. 261-69 [incomplete]
• 1730 - John Taylor (St. John's), Cambridge:
The Music Speech at the Public Commencement in Cambridge July 6,
1730, to which is added an Ode designed to have been set to Music on
that Occasion (London, 1730)
Wordsworth, Social Life, pp. 270-76
• [Cambridge, no date, author unknown]:
Cambridge University Library MS Mm. v. 42, ff. 249v-250r
Yale University, MS Osbom fb 108, pp. 321-4
• [Cambridge, c. 1680, author unknown]:
Cambridge University Library MS Mm. v. 42, ff. 222v-227r [Latin prose,
translated into English verse ff. 227r-238r by 'Mr Savage of Emmanuel']
Trinity College, Dublin
• 1685 [sections of tripos speeches, various authors1]:
British Library MS Add. 38671, ff. 19r-31r
• 1688 - John Jones [tripos]:
Trinity College, Dublin MS 879/1, ff. 71v-76v
Grammar speeches
• 1684 - Harry Walbank (Trinity):
[Prologue] Bodleian Library MS Top. Oxon. e. 280, pp. 664, 662 [rev]
Yale University Osborn MS fb. 142, pp. 20-21
[Epilogue] Bodleian Library MS Top. Oxon. e. 280, p. 660 [rev]
• c.l601 -Francis Beaumont [Inner Temple]:
See Mayhew, 'Swift and the Tripos Tradition', p. 96.
244
245
British Library Sloane MS 1709
Mark Eccles, 'Francis Beaumont's Grammar Lecture', RES 16 (1940), 402-414
1651 -Mathew Hunter (Queen's):
Bodleian Library MS Rawl. D. 975, pp. 49-50 [incomplete]
British Library Add. MS 4455, ff. 27r-33r
1669 - Thomas Hodges (Balliol):
Bodleian Library MS Add. A. 368, ff. 13r-18r
Bodleian Library MS Don. f. 29, ff. 43r-57r
Bodleian Library MS Rawl. D. 316, ff. 80r-83r
Bodleian Library MS Rawl. D. 1151, ff. 78r-84r
Queen's College, Oxford, MS 478, ff. 14r-19r
Society of Antiquaries of London, MS 330, ff.78v-76r [rev]
• [no date, tripos?, author unknown]:
Cambridge University Library MS Mm. v. 42r ff. 247r-249r
Oxford quadragesimal (Lenten disputation) speeches
• 1653/4 - John Symes (St. John's):
Bodleian Library MS Rawl. D. 975, pp. 8-11
• 1654/5 - Luke Cordewell (St. John's):
Bodleian Library MS Rawl. D. 975, pp. 11-15
Saltings
Rhetoric speeches
• [no date, attributed to 'R.B.']:
Bodleian Library MS Rawl. D. 1110, ff. 26v-28v.
Other Cambridge commencement speeches
• 1632-Rogers [tripos]:
Bodleian Library MS Rawl. poet. 62, f. lr-v
• 1681 -James Smallwood (Trinity) [tripos]:
[Prologue] Yale University, MS Osbom b.l 15, ff.33r-34v
Cambridge, St. John's College MS Aa.3, p. 39
Illinois University Library, MS uncat., f. lr
[Epilogue] Cambridge, St. John's College MS Aa.3, p. 42
Illinois University Library, MS uncat.. f. lr-v
[verses to the ladies: 'After that sort of academic wit']
Bodleian Library MS Rawl. D 1026, ff. 7v-8v
Folger Shakespeare Library, MS M b 12
Illinois University Library, MS uncat., ff. 1 v-2r
Manchester, Chetham's Library, Mun. A 4. 14, pp. 119-21
St. John's College, Cambridge, MS Aa.3, pp. 40-1
Victoria and Albert Museum, Dyce Collection, Cat. no. 43, pp. 345-7
Vienna, OsterreichischeNationalbibliothek, Cod. 14090, ff. 183r-184r
Yale University Osborn MS fb. 142, p. 57
Yale University, MS Osbom b.l 15, ff.35r-36v
• 1681 -Amhurst (King's):
Victoria and Albert Museum, Dyce Collection, Cat. no. 43, pp. 347-8
Vienna, OsterreichischeNationalbibliothek, Cod. 14090, f.l84r-v
• [no date, tripos, author unknown]:
Cambridge University Library MS Dd.vi.30, ff. 34r-35r
• 1597 - William Goldsmith:
British Library Add. MS 52585, ff. 44v-53r
• 1620 - George or Edmund Harris:
Cambridge University Library Add. MS 7196. ff. 1-4
• 1627 - Thomas Randolph:
Yale Osborn MS b. 65, pp. 138-146
Roslyn Richek, 'Thomas Randolph's Salting (1627), Its Text, ant! John
Milton's Sixth Prolusion as Another Salting', English Literary Renaissance
12 (1982), pp. 103-131
• 1628 -John Milton:
Sixth Prolusion and 'At a Vacation Exercise'
• [no date, salting?, author unknown]:
Bodleian MS Rawl. D. 399, ff. 244r-245r
Miscellaneous and unidentified
• 1652 - Martin Morland (Wadham):
Bodleian Library MS Don. f. 29, ff. 37v-25v [rev]
Bodleian Library MS Rawl. D. 1110, ff. 39r-43r
Bodleian Library MS Rawl. D. 1111, ff. 146r-141r [rev]
British Library Add. MS 4455, ff. 43r-45v
Cambridge University Library MS Dd.vi.30, ff. 28r-30v
• 1653 - Martin Morland (Wadham):
Cambridge University Library MS Dd.vi.30, ff. 25v-26v
• 1654-Nathaniel Hodges (Ch. Ch.):
Bodleian Library MS Rawl. D. 1111, ff. 140v-137r [rev]
IA»&
246
1657 - Robert South (Ch. Ch.):
Bodleian MS Rawl. D. 1110, ff. 34v-38v
Bodleian MS Rawl. D. 1111, ff. 22r-3Or
Bodleian MS Rawl. D. 1151, ff. 14r-24v
Cambridge University Library MS Dd.vi.30, ff. 52v-60r
1658 - Robert South (Ch. Ch.):
Bodleian MS Rawl. D. 1111, ff. 30v-40r
Bodleian MS Rawl. D. 1151, ff. 25r-35v
Cambridge University Library MS Dd.vi.30
[no date] - Robert South (Ch. Ch.):
Bodleian MS Lat. misc. e. 19, ff. 101r-l 1 lr
[no date] - Robert South (Ch. Ch.):
Cambridge University Library MS Dd.vi.30, ff. 60v-62r
[no date, quadragesimal speech?, author unknown]:
Bodleian MS Rawl. D. 294, ff. lr-16r [incomplete]
1673 - Jonathan Kimberley (Pemb.):
British Library Add. MS 4455, f. 75v [incomplete?]
247
Bibliography
Manuscript Sources
Cambridge
Cambridge University Library MS Mm. v. 42
Cambridge University Library MS Dd.vi.30
Cardiff
Cardiff Central Library MS 1.482
Durham, North Carolina
Duke University MS 12-14-71
London
British Library Add. MS 22915
British Library Add. MS 52585
British Library MS Harley 7315
British Library MS Lansdown 936
Society of Antiquaries of London MS 330
Minneapolis, Minn,
University of Minnesota MS 690235 f
[NB. These speeches, all humorous in nature and based on the disputation fonn, were
delivered by various of the ludic orators at the Oxford Act. Kristine Haugen refers to
Martin Morland's 1652 oration as a terrae filius speech ('Imagined Universities',
p. 20 and n.), but no contemporary transcriber identifies it as such, and its fonn
suggests it was delivered by Morland in a different capacity.]
New Haven, Conn.
Yale University, Osbom MS b. 200
Oxford
Bodleian Library MS Add. A. 368
Bodleian Library MS Don. f. 29
Bodleian Library MS Douce f. 5
Bodleian Library MS Eng. misc. f. 653
Bodleian Library MS Eng. poet. e. 4
Bodleian Library MS Eng. poet. e. 14
Bodleian Library MS Eng. poet. e. 97
Bodleian Library MS Eng. poet. f. 13
Bodleian Library MS Lat. misc. e. 19
Bodleian Library MS Malone 21
Bodleian Library MS Raw!. 3. 403
Bodleian Library MS Raw]. D. 399
Bodleian Library MS Rawl. D. 975
Bodleian Library MS Rawl. D. 1048
Bodleian Library MS Rawl. poet. 26
Bodleian Library MS Tanner 338
Bodleian Library MS Top. Oxon. e. 344
Queen's College Library MS 478
Washington, DC
Folger Shakespeare Library MS V.a.170
248
249
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