Sir Henry Bennet was the constant attendant of Charles II. during his exile: after the Restoration, he became a member of the Cabal administration, and secretary of state. He was finally Lord Chamberlain, and through many turns of politics retained the favour of Charles II., perhaps as much from making himself useful in his pleasures, as from the recollection of his faithful attachment. He was learned, and accustomed to business; but, being naturally of a slow understanding, and having acquired a formal manner during his stay in Spain, much enhanced by a black patch which he wore to conceal a wound on his nose, there was something ridiculously stiff in his demeanour. Charles II., who put no value upon a friend in comparison to a jest, is said to have had much delight in seeing the Duke of Buckingham, or any of his gay courtiers, by the help of a black patch and a white staff, enact Harry Bennet. Mulgrave thinks, that a ludicrous idea being thus associated with Arlington, and all that concerned him, he came to be generally thought a man of less abilities, than he really was. He adds, he was of a generous temper, and served his friends warmly. Being once ungratefully used by one whom he had benefited, he asked Mulgrave, what effect he thought it would have upon him; and prevented his answer, by saying, it should neither cool his present friendship, nor prevent him of the greatest happiness of his life, which was to serve the first deserving person that fell in his way.[448] Although the Duke of York disliked Arlington, yet he suffered him to retain his situation at court. His religion may have saved him from disgrace; for Arlington was privately a Catholic, and avowed himself to be so on his death-bed.[449] He died July, 1685.
Lady Isabella Bennet, only daughter and heiress of the Earl of Arlington, was married to Henry Fitzroy, Duke of Grafton, second son of Charles II. by the Duchess of Cleveland. This match was against the inclination of the duke's mother; for Derrick says, he saw a letter from her to Danby, dated at Paris, in 1675, thanking him for endeavouring to prevent the match. The Duke of Grafton was bred to the sea. After Monmouth had taken the popular courses which we have reviewed, the king endeavoured to set Grafton, though inferior in all personal accomplishments, in opposition to him, in the hearts of the people. He was appointed steward of the Loyal Apprentices' entertainment,[450] and otherwise placed in the public eye, as the rival of Monmouth. He also was admitted to share his more profitable spoils, getting one of the regiments of the guards, formerly under Monmouth's command, when the Duke of Richmond was made Master of the Horse.[451] Grafton was sent against Monmouth on his landing in the west, and attempted to beat up his rear with a body of horse, as he marched towards Frome; but was defeated, and very nearly made prisoner.[452] The Duke of Grafton participated in the general discontent which James II's measures excited through the kingdom, and remonstrated against them with professional frankness. The king ridiculed a seaman's pretensions to tenderness of conscience; and Grafton answered sturdily, that "if he had not much religion himself, he belonged to a party who had." He was with the king when he headed his army to march against the Prince of Orange, and joined with Churchill, in exhorting him to hazard a battle. We must hope, that they meant to share the risque which they recommended; and that it was only a consciousness that the king had deserted his own cause, which induced them to go over to the prince, when their counsel was rejected. On the 28th September, 1690, the Duke of Grafton was mortally wounded at the siege of Cork, as he commanded the squadron which covered the landing. He seems to have been a brave, rough, hardy-tempered man, and would probably have made a figure as a naval officer.
Lewis Duras, Earl of Feversham, brother of the French Marshals Duras and De Lorge, and nephew to the famous Marshal Turenne. He was born of a Huguenot family, and retained his religion, or the form of it, when both his brothers conformed to the Catholic church. The Duke of York's opportune return from Flanders is said, by Sir John Reresby, to have been planned by this nobleman; who is, therefore, introduced here with singular propriety. He is said to have been brave; but appears, from the only remarkable action in which he was ever engaged, to have been a bad general, and a cruel man. James II., who had a high esteem for Feversham, placed him at the head of that body of disciplined troops, which checked the career of Monmouth. He advanced to Bridgewater, of which Monmouth had got possession, with some of the finest regiments in the service, and 30 field pieces. The unfortunate adventurer seemed to have no refuge left, but to disperse his forces, and fly for his safety; when the mode in which Feversham conducted himself gave him a fair chance for victory and a crown. He encamped in the open country, three miles from the enemy, with only a dry ditch in his front; dispersed his cavalry in the neighbouring hamlets, and retired quietly to bed, without either sending out reconnoitering parties, or establishing advanced posts.[453] It is no wonder, that, that in such a careless state, he should have been completely surprised; it is only singular, that, even allowing for the cowardice of Lord Grey, who fled, instead of performing the safe and easy duty committed to him of firing the horse-quarters of Feversham's army, he should have been able to recover the consequences of his negligence. Monmouth's men fought for three hours after they had been deserted by their cavalry, with the innate courage of English peasants. Feversham was still hard pressed, notwithstanding the gallant assistance afforded him by Dumbarton; when the Bishop of Bath and Wells decided the day, by causing the artillery to be turned upon the flank of Monmouth's followers. When they had given way, Feversham exhibited more of the cold-blooded cruelty of his country, than he had done of their genius and fiery valour, while the battle lasted. The military bishop also proved himself a better lawyer than the general, as he had shewn himself in the fight a better soldier; but it was not till a warm expostulation was made on his part that the general ceased to execute the prisoners by martial law, and reserved them to a still more cruel fate from the forms of law, as administered by the brutal Jefferies. Neither Feversham's blunders, nor his brutality, seemed to lessen his merit in the eye of his sovereign. He received the order of the Garter, on the 31st July, 1685, probably on the vacancy occasioned by the Duke of Monmouth's death, whose memory was on this occasion treated with signal ignominy.[454] At the time of the Revolution, Lord Feversham was commander in chief, and proved himself incapable of taking any spirited steps for James's interest; for the army he commanded, though the officers were disaffected, would probably have fought, had they been once fairly committed in opposition to the Dutch. When the king resolved to abandon everything, and forsake his kingdom, he left behind, a letter to Feversham, stating that he should not expect his troops at present to expose themselves. The general might have secured a part of his forces, by retreating along with the high-spirited Viscount of Dundee, who marched back into Scotland with the Scottish regiments; but Feversham was a man of another mould, and rather chose to augment the general confusion, by disbanding the army. When James was detected by the fishermen of Kent, in his attempt to leave the kingdom, Feversham, with a party of his guards, was sent to conduct him back to his capital. James also chose him for the messenger, when, yielding to sad necessity, he sent a letter to the Prince of Orange, inviting him to St James's. With a view, doubtless, to increase the terror of the king's mind, and precipitate his intention of a second flight, the prince arrested the bearer of this humiliating embassy. This was the last public occasion on which James had occasion to employ the services of the unmilitary nephew of the great Turenne, whose name is connected with the most blame-worthy and most melancholy passages of his reign.
These lines, which sufficiently vouch their author to have been Tate, refer to Sir Heneage a Finch, an eminent lawyer, who was first attorney-general, and, upon Shaftesbury losing his seals, succeeded him as Lord Keeper. He was a most incorruptible judge, and could not be swayed in his decisions even by the king's interference, which upon all political occasions was omnipotent with him. He was a good lawyer, and a ready orator; but upon this last accomplishment, he set, as all lawyers do, rather too high a value: for they, whose profession necessarily leads them often to speak against their own opinion, and often to make much of trifles, are apt to lose, in the ingenuity of their arguments, the power of making a real impression upon the bosom of their hearers. North says, that the business, rather than the justice, of the court, flourished exceedingly under Finch; for he was a formalist, and took exceeding pleasure in encouraging and listening to nice distinctions of law, instead of taking a broad view of the equity of each case. He was a steady and active supporter of the Tory party on all occasions; in reward of which, he was created Earl of Nottingham. After a long and lingering disease, which terminated in a deep depression of spirits, this great lawyer died in 1682, and was succeeded by Lord Guilford, as Lord Keeper.
Sir Roger L'Estrange was descended of a good family in Norfolk, and during the civil war was in arms for the king.[455] Being taken prisoner by the parliament, he was condemned to die, but found means to obtain a pardon. He was a good performer on the violin; a quality which recommended him to Cromwell, under whose government he lived, if we may trust one of his antagonists, in ease and affluence; a circumstance with which he was afterwards as often reproached as our author with his panegyric on the Protector. The instant, however, that the restoration of monarchy approached, L'Estrange was among the first to hail it, and stepped forth to answer a pamphlet of Milton, on the subject of a republic, by a retort, which he irreverently entitled, "No Blind Guides." After the Restoration, he was the great champion of the court, the high church, and the Tory party. His principal vehicle of political instruction was the "Observator," a paper published twice a week; but he also edited another, called "Heraclitus Ridens;" and, independently of both, published answers, replies, rebutters, and sur-rebutters, to every attack made upon him, besides quires of pamphlets on all popular subjects. For these good services, he was knighted by King James. His style is in the last degree mean, crabbed, and low; yet he possesses some power of argument and sarcasm. He appears to have first invented, or at least first practised to a great extent, the foolish custom of printing emphatic passages in a different type from the rest of the page, and thereby too often effecting a point, which the reader is unable to trace. For the other deeds of L'Estrange, and his numerous bead-roll of fugitive pieces, the reader may consult the article in the Biographia.
The Duke of York, after a short visit to England, returned to Scotland by sea. The vessel unfortunately struck upon a bank, called the Lemman Ore; and the duke, with a few attendants, who crowded into the barge, were all who escaped from the wreck. Burnet says, that the duke showed no anxiety about the safety of any one save his dogs and his priests, whom the bishop maliciously classes together. Others say, he was principally interested about Churchill, who, at the Revolution, requited his anxiety but indifferently. The Gazette says, that when the barge put off, the poor sailors, who remained to perish, manned the sides in the usual honorary form, and, indifferent to their own fate, hailed the duke's safety with three cheers; a circumstance alluded to a few lines below, where it is said, the sufferers,
In this shipwreck perished the Earl of Roxburghe, Mr Hyde, a son of the great Clarendon, the Lord O'Brien, the Laird of Hoptoun, Sir Joseph Douglas, Colonel Macnaughton, and about 300 seamen, besides the persons of the duke's retinue.
The verses, which follow those concerning this lamentable accident, describe the return of the Duke of York with his Duchess to England; a voyage which they performed without any sinister accident, and landed there upon the 27th May, 1682. On this occasion, they received many poetical greetings, both on the duke's escape and their happy arrival; as, for example, Otway's "Prologue to the Duchess, on her return from Scotland, at the Duke's theatre, at Venice Preserved, &c. acted 31st May, 1682."
"A Pindarique Ode on their Royal Highnesses Return from Scotland, after their escape at Sea."
"To the Duke on his Return, 29th May, 1682, written by Nathaniel Lee."
"A Congratulatory Poem to her Royal Highness, upon the arrival of their Royal Highnesses in England, May 27th, 1682."
"To his Royal Highness at his happy Return from Scotland, written by a Person of Quality, 30th May, 1682."
Also, "A Panegyric on their Royal Highnesses, and Congratulation on their Return from Scotland."
Sir John Moor, the tory Lord Mayor, an aged and respectable citizen, of a mild character, and even hesitating and cautious in forming his measures, though sufficiently determined when once satisfied of their propriety. "Which character," says North, "was cut out for this time and public occasion; for nothing but such firmness of mind, and manifest goodness, with a seeming passive disposition, could have protected from those rages of violence, as very often threatened him, and which, probably, had broke loose on any one in his post, that had carried matters with a stern and minatory behaviour."[456] He was proposed by the court-party in the city for Lord Mayor, and, being scarcely opposed by the other faction, easily carried his election. The Whigs were led into this blunder, by mistaking the principles, and under-rating the resolution, of the candidate. Sir John Moor had been bred a non-conformist; and, though he had taken the test with a view to civic honours, that was no more than had been done by Bethel, Cornish, and others, who retained in full vigour their sectarian principles. Besides, from the gentleness and softness of the new Lord Mayor's demeanour, his smooth and diffident way of talking in private, and his embarrassed elocution in public, they conceived that, even if completely gained by the court, he would prove too passive and timorous, to serve them essentially against active and energetic opponents. In both these particulars they were woefully mistaken. Sir John proved to be most keenly disposed to second all the court measures; and he was kept up to the pitch of resolution necessary for carrying them through, by the constant support, encouragement, and advice of the Duke of Ormond, whom the court employed to back him, and who, during the contests which followed, dined with the Lord Mayor two or three times every week.[457] This election, and its consequences, was a severe blow to the fanatical interest in the city; the jovial custom of banquets and feasting was revived; and the musicians, who had been long under restraint, were restored to their privilege, which they employed in chaunting forth the praises of Sir John the Restorer.[458] More, of Morehall, was not for a time more celebrated in song, than the Lord Mayor, his namesake; and a general revolution appeared to have taken place in the manners, as well as the principles, of the citizens, which, under the Whig government, had savoured not a little of the ancient days of fanatical severity.
Ziph and Shimei were the Whig sheriffs in 1681; concerning whom, see note upon Shimei in Part First. The viler pair were Thomas Pilkington, and Samuel Shute, who followed out the practice of their predecessors, in the mode of packing the juries on political trials, and had the honour to arrange that which acquitted the Earl of Shaftesbury. They were much hated by the court; and, when they came with the recorder to invite the King to dine with the Lord Mayor, Charles forgot his usual politeness so far, as to answer sternly, "so agreeable was the city's invitation, that he would accept it, though brought by messengers so unwelcome to him as these two sheriffs."[464] Sir John Moor had a most violent contest with these two persons, concerning the election of sheriffs for the ensuing year, about which the court were exceedingly anxious.
It had been customary, when these elections were matters of little consequence, that the Lord Mayor designated a citizen to hold the office of sheriff, by the ceremony of drinking to him, and sending him the cup. It was agreed by the court, that this custom should be revived, as throwing the choice of one of the sheriffs into the hands of their partizan, Sir John Moor. This being settled, the Mayor, in full form, drank to Dudley North, brother of the Lord Keeper Guilford, a Levant merchant, who accepted of that expensive office, to please his brother, and to serve the court. The popular party determined to controvert this election; denying that a sheriff could be elected otherwise than by the Livery, and proposed Papillon and Dubois, sturdy Whigs, for their candidates. The court, on the other hand, contending that North was duly and incontrovertibly elected, by the jolly mode already mentioned, proposed a Mr Box for the other sheriff, whose office only they allowed to be vacant. The Common Hall, held on this occasion, was as tumultuary as a raging tempest. At length the Lord Mayor, with the party who denied there were two vacancies, withdrew; while the country party remained, and polled for Papillon and Dubois, under the direction of Shute and Pilkington, the last year's sheriffs. The court, affecting to consider this as a riot, interfered on that pretext, and a warrant was granted for committing the sheriffs to the Tower. Having found bail to answer for a misdemeanour, they returned to the charge with the same ardour as ever, and were actually about to complete their poll, when the hall was adjourned by the orders of the Lord Mayor. The whole weight of the court was necessary to keep up the Lord Mayor's heart at this crisis. He was sent for to the Privy Council, encouraged, soothed, schooled, and finally assured, by a writing under the Lord Keeper's hand, that he might adjourn the Common Hall, &c. as he thought proper. Thus heartened, the Lord Mayor assumed to himself the whole management of the poll, although the sheriffs opened books for another, and, denying the legality of any election, excepting his own, declared Box duly returned. This citizen, however, apprehensive of the consequences of acting under so dubious a nomination, fined off, and declined to serve. One Rich was found, with more zeal and courage; and, during the tumult of a Common Hall, which resounded with the cries of "no election," &c. this gentleman was elected sheriff by a few of the Lord Mayor's partizans, and declared duly returned by the Lord Mayor, who immediately proceeded to dissolve the Common Hall. North and Rich were accordingly sworn in as sheriffs for the year; but a guard of the Train Bands was necessary to protect them, while they thus qualified themselves for entering on their office.
This contest was followed by another, for the office of Lord Mayor. Gould, the popular candidate, was returned by a considerable majority; but, upon a scrutiny, the court-party, by dint of real or pretended disqualifications, gained such an advantage, that Pritchard, their candidate, was returned by a majority of fourteen voices.
The importance of these elections was soon visible. The popular party were utterly disheartened, and their leaders exposed to the same practices from packing juries, which they had themselves employed. The court used their victory remorselessly. Pilkington, the ex-sheriff, was found liable in 100,000l. damages, for having said that "the Duke of York had fired the city, and was now come to cut all their throats." Those concerned in carrying on the double poll, were severely fined, as guilty of a riot. Sir Patience Ward, an alderman of the popular party, was declared obnoxious to a charge of perjury, for an inconsistence in his evidence on Pilkington's trial.[465] In short, the royal vengeance was felt by all who had been active in opposition to the court.
But the extent of the court's victory was best evinced by the conduct of Shaftesbury; who, seeing his strong-hold, the magistracy of the city, thus invaded, and occupied by his enemies, fled from his house in Aldersgate-street, and for some time lay concealed in Wapping, trusting for his safety to the very lowest of mankind. From this hiding place, he sent forth messages to the other heads of the party, in which he urged the most desperate measures. But, finding it impossible to combine the various persons concerned in one plan of enterprize, and sensible of the danger of discovery, which each day's delay rendered more imminent, after a bitter contest between fear and rage, he fled to Amsterdam. His retreat was followed by the trial of the conspirators in the Rye-house Plot; and doubtless, the court, on that occasion, knew well how to avail themselves of the power of selecting juries so long possessed by their enemies, and now in their own hands. During the short remainder of this reign, the king's authority was paramount and supreme; his enemies were at his feet, and not a whisper of opposition disturbed his repose;—a deceitful and delusive calm, which his unfortunate successor soon saw changed into a tempest.
THE MEDAL.
The Medal was published in the beginning of March 1682, about four months after the appearance of the first part of "Absalom and Achitophel," and eight months before the publication of the second part of that poem. The circumstances, which led to it, require us to notice Shaftesbury's imprisonment and acquittal.
On the 2d July, 1681, the Earl of Shaftesbury was apprehended, by virtue of a warrant from council, and after his papers had been seized, and he himself had undergone an examination, was committed to the Tower. Upon the 24th November, 1681, a bill for high-treason was presented against him to the grand jury of Middlesex. When the witnesses were adduced, the jurors demanded, that they might be examined in private; and Pilkington, the Whig sheriff, required, that they should be examined separately. Both requests were refused by the court. One Booth was then examined, who swore, that Lord Shaftesbury had told him, he intended to carry down to the Oxford parliament a party of fifty gentlemen, and their servants, armed and mounted, to be commanded by a Captain Wilkinson; and that his Lordship stated this force to be provided, for the purpose of repelling any attack which the king's guards might make on the parliament, and, if necessary, to take the king from his bad advisers by force, and bring him to the city of London. The witness, said he, was invited by Wilkinson to be one of this band, and provided himself with a good horse and arms for the service; which was prevented by the sudden dissolution of the Oxford parliament. Seven other witnesses, Smith, Turberville, Haynes, and three persons called Macnamara, swore, that Shaftesbury had used to them, and each of them individually, the most treasonable expressions concerning the king's person; had declared he had no more title to the crown than the Duke of Buckingham; that he deserved to be deposed; and that he, Shaftesbury, would dethrone him, and convert the kingdom into a commonwealth. Here was enough of swearing at least to make a true bill. But the character of the witnesses was infamous; Booth was a swindler, and could never give an account of the stable in which he kept his pretended charger, or produce any one who had seen it. Smith, by his own confession, had changed his religion twice, was one of the evidences of the Popish plot, and intimate with the villain Oates. Turberville stood in the same predicament of an infamous fellow, and an evidence for the plot; he is said to have apologised for his apostacy, by saying plainly, that "the Protestant citizens had forsaken him, and, God damn him, he would not starve." The other witnesses were Irishmen, and there was something remarkable in their history. They had pretended to discover a Catholic plot in Ireland, which, if one had existed any where, was doubtless the place where it might have been found. Their evidence, however, contained pretty much such a raw-head and bloody-bones story as that of Oates, and equally unworthy of credit. Yet Shaftesbury constituted himself their protector, and had them brought over to England, where he doubtless intended, that their Irish plot should be as warmly agitated in the Oxford parliament, as the English conspiracy in that of 1679. Macnamara's "Narrative of the Conspiracy" is dedicated to his Lordship, because it was not only known to the dedicator, "but to the whole Christian world, how conspicuous his Lordship had been for his indefatigable zeal and vigilance over the safety of his majesty's most sacred person, and the welfare of the whole extent of his dominions." The sudden dissolution of the Oxford parliament, which had such important consequences in various respects, prevented the prosecution of the Irish plot. Besides, it seems to have escaped even Shaftesbury, that popular terror, the most powerful of engines, loses its excitability by too frequent alarms. The theme of a plot began to be listened to with indifference. That of Ireland fell to the ground, without exciting clamour or terror, but the witnesses remained. There is a story of some Irish recruits, who, being detected in a brawl, justified themselves, by saying, they were paid by the king for fighting, and it was quite the same to them where they fought, or with whom. The witnesses were equally sedulous in their vocation, and equally indifferent about the application of their labours; for, finding the court had obtained an ascendency, they readily turned with the tide, and bore evidence, as we have seen, against their original protector and encourager. The Tories basely availed themselves of the readiness with which this hungry pack of bloodhounds turned against their huntsman, and triumphantly claimed for them the same credit which the Whigs had demanded in former cases; although they must have been conscious, that they were employing the worst arts, as well as the most infamous implements, of their enemies. Besides the infamy of these men's character, their story was very improbable; as it could hardly be supposed, that Shaftesbury, the veteran leader of a party, should have committed himself so deeply in unnecessary and unreserved communication with these vulgar banditti, or expressed himself against the king in such low and gross language as they imputed to him.
Such being the oral testimony, and such its defects, the crown lawyers endeavoured to aid it, by founding upon certain papers found in Shaftesbury's study. One of these contained the names of the principal persons in the nation, divided into two lists, one titled, Worthy Men, and the other, Men Worthy; which last contained the principal Tories, and the legend was understood to mean, "men worthy to be hanged." This was too enigmatical to bear much argument. But there was also found a draught of an association against Popery, in which many dangerous topics were stated. It was thereby declared, that the Papist Plot was still advancing, and that the Catholics had been highly encouraged by James Duke of York; that mercenary forces had been levied, and kept on foot, contrary to law, and to the danger of the king's person: Therefore the persons associating were to bind themselves to defend, first the Protestant religion, and then the king's person and liberties of the subject, against all encroachment and usurpation of arbitrary power, and to endeavour to disband all such mercenary forces as were kept up in and about the city of London, to the great amazement and terror of all the good people of the land; also, never to consent that the Duke of York, or any professed Papist, should succeed to the crown, but by all lawful means, and by force of arms if necessary, to resist and oppose his so doing. By a still more formidable clause, it was provided, that the subscribers were to receive orders from the parliament if sitting; but if it should be dissolved, from the majority of the association itself. Lastly, that no one should separate from the rest of the association, on pain of being by the others prosecuted and suppressed, as a perjured person and public enemy. Much dangerous, and even treasonable, inference may be drawn from this model. But it was only an unsigned scroll, and did not appear to have been framed, or even revised and approved of, by Shaftesbury.
With such evidence against him, Shaftesbury might have gone safely before a jury of indifferent men, could such have been found. But the Whig sheriffs, Shute and Pilkington, left nothing to hazard, and took good care the assize should consist of men picked out of the very centre of their own party. We recognize the names of Godfrey, brother to Sir Edmondbury; of Papillon and Dubois, the Whig candidates for the shrievalty against North and Rich; of Sir Samuel Barnardiston, who maintained a furious action against the high-sheriff of Suffolk, for a double return; of Shepherd, the wine-merchant, at whose house the Duke of Monmouth, Lord Russel, &c. afterwards held their meetings; of Edwin, the presbyterian, and others less noted in history, but not less remarkable at the time for the violence of their party-zeal. After a short consideration, they returned the bill Ignoramus; upon which there was a shout of continued applause in the court, which lasted for an hour, and the city, in the evening, blazed with bonfires, to celebrate the escape of their Protestant leader. Such was the history of this noted trial, which took place at a time when the course of law had lost its deep still channel, and all causes were carried by a fierce impetuous torrent, which threatened to break down the banks, and become a general inundation. Accustomed to a pure administration of justice, we now look back with disgust and horror upon times, when, to bring in a just verdict, it was necessary to assemble a packed jury.
The triumph of the Whigs was unbounded; and, among other symptoms of exultation, it displayed itself in that which gave rise to this poem of Dryden. This was a medal of Lord Shaftesbury, struck by William Bower, an artist, who had executed some popular pieces allusive to the Roman Catholic plot.[466] The obverse presented the bust of the earl, with the legend, Antonio Comiti De Shaftesbury; the reverse, a view of London, the bridge, and the Tower; the sun is rising above the Tower, and just in the act of dispersing a cloud; the legend around the exergue is Lætamur, and beneath is the date of his acquittal, 24th November, 1681. The partizans of the acquitted patriot wore these medals at their breasts; and care was taken that this emblem should be made as general as possible.[467]
The success of "Absalom and Achitophel" made the Tories look to our author as the only poet whose satire might check, or ridicule, the popular triumph of Shaftesbury. If the following anecdote, which Spence has given on the authority of a Catholic priest, a friend of Pope, be absolutely correct, Charles himself engaged Dryden to write on this theme. "One day as the king was walking in the Mall, and talking with Dryden, he said, 'If I was a poet, and I think I am poor enough to be one, I would write a poem on such a subject, in the following manner.' He then gave him the plan of "The Medal." Dryden took the hint, carried the poem, as soon as it was written, to the king, and had a present of a hundred broad pieces for it."
The merits of "The Medal," as a satirical poem, are universally acknowledged; nor does it greatly suffer from being placed, as the subject naturally invites, in comparison with "Absalom and Achitophel." The latter, as a group of figures, presents greater scope and variety, and may be therefore more generally interesting than the portrait of an individual; but it does not more fully display the abilities of the artist. Nothing can be more forcibly described, than the whole of Shaftesbury's political career; and, to use the nervous language of Johnson, "the picture of a man, whose propensions to mischief are such, that his best actions are but inability of wickedness, is very skilfully delineated, and strongly coloured." The comparison of his best and most politic councils, to the cures affected by those called white witches, whom it was unlawful to consult, because, even in accomplishing innocent purposes, they used infernal arts, is poignantly severe. The succeeding lines, in which the poet ridicules bitterly that appeal to the people, which the demagogues of that, as of all periods, were desirous to represent as the criterion of truth, contains the essence of all that an hundred philosophers can say upon the topic. His stern and indignant picture of the citizens of London, unjust as it is, if meant to express their general character, is, in individual instances, too often verified. That looseness which habitual chicane in trade introduces into mercantile morality; that bustling activity, which, however meritorious when within its sphere, is so apt to extend itself where its exertion is only mischievous and absurd; and that natural turn to democracy, which arises from frequenting popular meetings and from ambition of civic honours; that half-acquaintance with the affairs of other countries, and half-intimacy with the laws of our own, acquired in the course of mercantile transactions,—all combine, but too often, to turn an useful sober citizen, into a meddling, pragmatical, opinionative politician. The strong and gloomy picture of the fanatics, which succeeds, describes a race of men now in a great measure extinct, of whom the influence, though declining, even in the poet's time, continued to be powerful, and which had, in the preceding generation, prostrated before them both the mitre and the throne. The comparison of the fanatical ideas of religion entertained by these dissenting teachers, with the supposed principles of the libertine and latitudinarian Shaftesbury, gave scope for some nervous satire, and led the author naturally to consider the probable result of the schemes of these incongruous allies. These he predicts, according to the progress of things after the great civil war, to be successively the dominion of presbytery, and depression of the gentry; the insurrection of the independents, and other sects, against their spiritual tyranny; quarrels between the civil and military leaders; the commons destroying the peerage; a democratical republic; a military tyranny; and, by the blessing of heaven, a restoration of the rightful heir. All these scenes had already passed at no distant period; and now, while the sword was yet in the sheath, though the hand was upon its hilt, the masterly and energetic language in which they are detailed may have tempted many to pause and think, whether the evils, of which they complained, deserved the risque of so desperate a remedy.
Such is the plan of this admirable poem. The language is as striking as the ideas and subject. The illustrations and images are short and apposite, such as give force to the argument, and flow easily into the diction, without appearing to have been laboured, or brought from a distance. I fear, however, some of the scriptural allusions are censurable, as too free, if not profane. The verse has all the commanding emphasis, with which Dryden, beyond any other poet, knew how to body forth and adorn his poetical arguments. One Alexandrine is prolonged two syllables beyond the usual length; a circumstance hardly worth notice, were it not to show the sharp-sighted malice of Dryden's enemies, who could discover this single inaccuracy, if, indeed, the licence was not intentional, amid so much sounding versification.[468]
As "The Medal" attracted immediate and extensive attention, the Whig champions stepped forth to the contest. "The Mushroom," by Edmund Hickeringell, first appeared; and, in succession, "The Medal Reversed," by Samuel Pordage, which procured its author a couplet in the second part of "Absalom and Achitophel;" "The Loyal Medal Vindicated," and the "Medal of John Bayes;" all of which, and perhaps many more, appeared in the summer and autumn of 1681. Two satires, of a more general nature, entitled, "Dryden's Satire to his Muse," and, "The Tory Poets," were also published against our author in the course of that year; a sufficient proof of the irritation of that party, whose chief he had now twice held up to public detestation.—The popularity of "The Medal" did not cease with the crisis which gave it birth; it went through many editions, and only became less known, when successive changes had totally worn away all remembrance of the intrigues of the eminent politician against whom it was directed. Johnson has said, "It is now not much read, nor perhaps generally understood; yet, a slight acquaintance with the history of the period removes all obscurity; and, though we cannot sympathize with the fervour of politics which it contains, the poetry has claims to popularity, widely independent of the temporary nature of the subject."
As the reader is now to take a long farewell of Lord Shaftesbury, it may not be unnecessary to remind him, that, when freed from the accusation of high treason, the earl continued to agitate plans of opposition to the government, which became more and more violent, as the ascendency of the court became more powerful, until open force seemed to be the only means left of accomplishing what undoubtedly he had at first hoped to carry through by political intrigue. At length he found it necessary to fly from his house in Aldersgate-Street, and take refuge in the suburbs of the city, from whence he sent messages to his associates, urging them to take arms. But he was now doomed to experience what his ardent temper had before prevented him from considering. When they came to the crisis, the different views and dispositions of the allies began to discover themselves. Russell limited his wishes to security for liberty; Monmouth stipulated his own succession on Charles' death; Sidney demanded a free commonwealth; and all dreaded Shaftesbury, who, they were sensible, was determined to be at the head of the kind of government adopted, whatever that might be. Nor were their tempers less discordant than their plans. While an inferior order of conspirators were organizing plans for assassinating the whole royal family, Monmouth was anxious for the life of his father, Russell averse to shedding the blood of his countrymen, Grey, Howard, and Trenchard, from meaner motives, unwilling to encounter the dangers of war. After a desperate threat to commence the rising, and make the honour and danger all his own, Shaftesbury at length fled to Holland, where he landed in November 1682. The magistrates of Amsterdam gave him welcome, and enrolled him among their citizens, to evade any claim by the court of England on his person; yet they failed not to remind him of his former declaration, of Delenda est Carthago, accompanying the freedom which they presented to him with these words: Ab nostra Carthagine, nondum deleta, salutem accipe. Here, while pondering the consequences of former intrigues, and perhaps adjusting new machinations, Shaftesbury was seized with the gout in his stomach, and expired on the 21st January, 1682-3.
To sift the character of this extraordinary man, and divide his virtues from his vices, his follies from his talents, would be a difficult, perhaps an impossible task. Charles is said to have borne testimony, that he had more law than all his judges, and more divinity than all his bishops. But his shining qualities were sullied by that inordinate ambition, which brought its own punishment, in an unworthy flight, an untimely, at least a precipitated, death, and a dubious reputation.