The Lives of the Poets of Great Britain and Ireland (1753) Volume III Part 25

Whoever has the least spark of generosity in his nature, cannot but highly applaud this tender conduct of his lords.h.i.+p's, towards his Sovereign in distress; and look with contempt upon the slowness of the council in dispatching a force to his relief, especially when we find it was only out of dread, lest they should displease the Prince of Orange, that they sent any: this shewed a meanness of spirit, a want of true honour, to such a degree, that the Prince of Orange himself could not, consistently with good policy, trust those wors.h.i.+ppers of power, who could hear, unconcerned, that their late Sovereign was in the hands of a vile rabble, and intreating them in vain for rescue.

The earl of Mulgrave made no mean compliances to King William, immediately after the revolution, but when he went to pay his addresses to him, he was well received; yet did he not accept of a post in the government till some years after.

May 10, in the 6th year of William and Mary, he was created marquis of Normanby, in the county of Lincoln. When it was debated in Parliament, whether the Prince of Orange should be proclaimed King, or the Princess his wife reign solely in her own right, he voted and spoke for the former, and gave these reasons for it. That he thought the t.i.tle of either person was equal; and since the Parliament was to decide the matter, he judged it would much better please that Prince, who was now become their Protector, and was also in itself a thing more becoming so good a Princess, as Queen Mary, to partake with her husband a crown so obtained, than to possess it entirely as her own. After long debates in Parliament, the crown at last was settled upon William and Mary. Burnet lord bishop of Salisbury, whose affection for the revolution none I believe can doubt, freely acknowledges that the King was resolved not to hold the government by right of his wife; 'he would not think of holding any thing by ap.r.o.n strings:' he was jealous of the friends of his wife, and never, forgave them; and, last of all, he threatened to leave them in the lurch, that is, to retire to Holland, with his Dutch army; so restless, says Mulgrave in another place, is ambition, in its highest scenes of success.

During the reign of King William however, he enjoyed some considerable posts, and was generally pretty well in his favour, and confidence.

April 21, 1702, he was sworn Lord Privy Seal, and the same year appointed one of the commissioners to treat of an union between England and Scotland, and was made Lord Lieutenant, and Custos Rotulorum for the North Riding of Yorks.h.i.+re, and one of the governors of the Charterhouse.

March 9, 1703, he was created duke of Normanby, having been made marquis of Normanby by King William, and on the 19th of the same month duke of Buckingham. In 1711 he was made Steward of her Majesty's Houshold, and President of the Council; and on her decease, was one of the Lords Justices in Great Britain, 'till King George arrived from Hanover.

In 1710 the Whig ministry began to lose ground, and Mr. Harley, since earl of Oxford, and the Lord Treasurer made the proper use of those circ.u.mstances, yet wanting some a.s.sistance, applied to the duke of Buckingham. The duke, who was not then on good terms with Mr. Harley, at first slighted his proposal, but afterwards joined with him and others, which produced a revolution in the ministry, and shook the power of the duke and d.u.c.h.ess of Marlborough, while Mr. Harley, the earl of Shrewsbury, lord Bolingbroke, &c. came into the administration. The duke was attached to Tory principles. Her Majesty offered to make him chancellor, which he thought proper to refuse. He was out of employment for some time, during which, he did not so much as pay his compliments at court, 'till he married his third wife, and then went to kiss her Majesty's hand.

The duke of Buckingham, though reckoned haughty, and ill natured, was yet of a tender, compa.s.sionate disposition; but as the best characters have generally some allay, he is allowed to have been very pa.s.sionate; but after his warmth subsided, he endeavoured to atone for it by acts of kindness and beneficence to those upon whom his pa.s.sion had vented itself. Several years before his grace died, he was well known to have expressed some concern for the libertinism of his youth, especially regarding the fair s.e.x, in which he had indulged himself himself very freely. He was survived only by one legitimate son, but left several natural children;

Our n.o.ble author has been charged by some of his enemies, with the sordid vice of covetousness, but without foundation; for, as a strong indication that he was not avaritious, he lost a considerable part of his fortune, merely by not taking the pains to visit, during the s.p.a.ce of 40 years, his estates at some distance from London; and whoever is acquainted with human nature knows, that indolence and covetousness are incompatible.

His grace died the 24th of February 1720, in the 75th year of his age, and after lying in state for some days at Buckingham-House, was carried from thence with great funeral solemnity, and interred in Westminster-Abbey, where a monument is erected to his memory, upon which the following epitaph is engraved, by his own direction, as appears from a pa.s.sage in his will.

'Since something is usually written on monuments, I direct that the following lines shall be put on mine, viz.

'In one place.

Pro Rege saepe, pro Republica semper.

'In another.

Dubius, sed non improbus vixi.

Incertus morior, sed inturbatus.

Humanum est nescire & errare.

Christum adveneror, Deo confido Omnipotenti, benevolentissimo.

Ens Entium miserere mihi.'

The words Christum adveneror are omitted at the desire of the late bishop Atterbury, who thought them not strong enough in regard to Christ; under the whole are the following words,

Catharina Buckinghamicae: Ducissa Maerens extrui curavit Anno MDCCXXI.

Edmund, the duke's eldest son, already mentioned, was s.n.a.t.c.hed away in his bloom; a youth from whom the greatest things might have been expected, as he was untainted with the vices of the age: he was very remarkable for his modesty, which vulgar minds imputed to want of powers, but those who knew him best, have given a different testimony concerning him, and have represented him as possessed of all the genius of his father, with more strict and inviolable morals. With this young n.o.bleman the t.i.tles of the Sheffield family expired.

The duke, his father, informs us of a duel he was to have fought with the witty earl of Rochester, which he thus relates; after telling us that the cause of the quarrel happened between the first and second Dutch war.

'I was inform'd (says his grace) that the earl of Rochester had said something very malicious of me; I therefore sent colonel Aston, a very mettled friend of mine, to call him to account for it; he denied the words, and indeed I was soon convinced he had never said them. But a mere report, though I found it to be false, obliged me (as I then foolishly thought) to go on with the quarrel; and the next day was appointed for us to fight on horseback: a way in England a little unusual, but it was his part to chuse. Accordingly I and my second lay the night before at Knightsbridge privately, to avoid being secured at London on any suspicion, which we found ourselves more in danger of there, because we had all the appearance of highwaymen, that had a mind to lye skulking in an odd inn for one night. In the morning we met the lord Rochester at the place appointed, who, instead of James Porter, whom he a.s.sured Aston he would make his second, brought an errant life-guard-man, whom n.o.body knew. To this Mr. 'Aston took exception, as being no suitable adversary, especially considering how extremely well he was mounted, whereas we had only a couple of pads; upon which we all agreed to fight on foot. But as my lord Rochester and I were riding into the next field in order to it, he told me that he had at first chosen to fight on horseback, because he was so weak with a certain distemper, that he found himself unfit to fight at all any way, much less a foot.

I was extremely surprized, because no man at that time had a better reputation for courage; and my anger against him being quite subsided, I took the liberty to represent to him what a ridiculous story it would make, should we return without fighting; and told him, that I must in my own defence be obliged to lay the fault on him, by telling the truth of the matter. His answer was, that he submitted to it, and hoped I would not take the advantage in having to do with any man in so weak a condition: I replied, that by such an argument he had sufficiently tied my hands, upon condition, I might call our seconds to be witnesses of the whole business, which he consented to, and so we parted. Upon our return to London, we found it full of this quarrel, upon our being absent so long; and therefore Mr. Aston thought fit to write down every word and circ.u.mstance of this whole matter, in order to spread every where the true reason of our returning without having fought; which being not in the least contradicted, or resented by the lord Rochester, entirely ruined his reputation for courage, though n.o.body had still a greater as to wit, which supported him pretty well in the world, notwithstanding some more accidents of the same kind, that never fail to succeed one another, when once people know a man's weakness.' The duke of Buckingham's works speak him a beautiful prose writer, and a very considerable poet, which is proved by the testimony of some of the best writers, his cotemporaries.

His prose works consist chiefly of

Historical Memoirs, Speeches in Parliament, Characters, Dialogues, Critical Observations, Speeches and Essays, which, with his poetical compositions, were printed by Alderman Barber in 1723. in two splendid 4to volumes. The first volume containing pieces in most species of poetry, the epic excepted, and also imitations from other authors. His Grace wrote some Epigrams, a great number of lyric pieces, some in the elegiac strain, and others in the dramatic. Amongst his poems, an Essay on Poetry, which contains excellent instructions to form the poet, is by far the most distinguished. He wrote a play called Julius Caesar and another called Brutus: or rather altered them from Shakespear.

His grace was a great lover of the polite arts in general, as appears from the fondness he expresses for them in several parts of his works; particularly Painting, Sculpture, and Architecture; of the two former he made several curious collections, and his house, built under his direction in St. James's Park, speaks him not unacquainted with the latter. It would be superfluous to enumerate all the writers who have given testimony in his grace's favour as an author. Dryden in several of his Dedications, while he expresses the warmth of his grat.i.tude, fails not to convey the most amiable idea of his lords.h.i.+p, and represents him as a n.o.ble writer. He lived in friends.h.i.+p with that great poet, who has raised indelible monuments to his memory. I shall add but one other testimony of his merit, which if some should think unnecessary, yet it is pleasing; the lines are delightfully sweet and flowing. In his Miscellanies thus speaks Mr. Pope;

'Muse 'tis enough, at length thy labour ends, And thou shalt live; for Buckingham commends.

Let crowds of critics now my verse a.s.sail, Let Dennis write, and nameless numbers rail.

This more than pays whole years of thankless pain, Time, health, and fortune, are not lost in vain.

Sheffield approves: conferring Phoebus bends; And I, and malice, from this hour are friends.'

The two plays of Julius Caesar, which he altered from Shakespear, are both with Chorusses, after the manner of the Ancients: These plays were to have been performed in the year 1729, and all the Chorusses were set to music by that great master in composition, Signor Bononcini; but English voices being few, the Italians were applied to, who demanded more for their nightly performance, than the receipts of the house could amount to at the usual raised prices, and on that account the design was dropt.

It appears that our n.o.ble author had conceived a great regard for Mr.

Pope, on his earliest appearance in the literary world; and was among the first to acknowledge the young bard's merit, in commendatory verses upon his excellence in poetry. The following compliment from the duke is prefixed to the first volume of Mr. Pope's works.

On Mr. POPE, and his POEMs, by his Grace JOHN SHEFFIELD, Duke of BUCKINGHAM.

With age decay'd, with courts and bus'ness tir'd, Caring for nothing, but what ease requir'd; Too dully serious for the muses sport, And from the critics safe arriv'd in port; I little thought of launching forth agen, Amidst advent'rous rovers of the pen; And after so much undeserv'd success, Thus hazarding at last to make it less.

Encomiums suit not this censorious time, Itself a subject for satyric rhime; Ignorance honour'd, wit and mirth defam'd, Folly triumphant, and ev'n Homer blam'd!

But to this genius, join'd with so much art, Such various learning mix'd in ev'ry part, Poets are bound a loud applause to pay; Apollo bids it, and they must obey.

And yet so wonderful, sublime a thing, As the great ILIAD, scarce cou'd make me sing; Except I justly cou'd at once commend A good companion, and as firm a friend.

One moral, or a mere well-natur'd deed Can all desert in sciences exceed.

'Tis great delight to laugh at some men's ways, But a much greater to give merit praise.

[Footnote 1: Character of the Duke of Buckingham, p. 2. London, 1739.]

[Footnote 2: General Dictionary. See Article Sheffield.]

[Footnote 3: Vol, ii, p. 106.]

CHARLES COTTON, Esq;

This ingenious gentleman lived in the reigns of Charles and James II.

He resided for a great part of his life at Beresford in the county of Stafford. He had some reputation for lyric poetry, but was particularly famous for burlesque verse. He translated from the French Monsieur Corneille's Horace, printed in 4to. London 1671, and dedicated to his dear sister Mrs. Stanhope Hutchinson. This play was first finished in 1665, but in his prefatory epistle he tells us,

'that neither at that time, nor for several years after, was it intended for the public view, it being written for the private divertis.e.m.e.nt of a fair young lady, and, ever since it had the honour first to kiss her hands, was so entirely hers, that the author did not reserve so much as the Brouillon to himself; however, she being prevailed upon, though with some difficulty, it was printed in 8vo. 1670.'

As to the merit of this play in the original, it is sufficient to observe, that the critics have allowed it to be the best tragedy of Corneille, and the author himself is of the same opinion, provided the three last acts had been equal to the two first. As to the translation by Mr. Cotton, we have very considerable authority to p.r.o.nounce it better than that of Mrs. Katherine Philips, who could not number versification among her qualities. The plot of this play, so far as history is concerned, may be read in Livy, Florus, Dionysius Halicarna.s.seus, &c. Our stage has lately had a play founded upon this story, added to the many it has received, called the Roman Father, by Mr. W. Whitehead.

Besides this translation, Mr. Cotton is author of many other works, such as his poem called the Wonders of the Peak, printed in 8vo. London 168; [1] His burlesque Poem, called Scarronides, or Virgil Travestie, a mock Poem, on the first and fourth Books of Virgil's aeneid, printed in 8vo.

London 1678. Though the t.i.tle seems to imply as if his poem was in imitation of Scarron, who has translated eight books of Virgil in the same manner, yet they who will compare both these pieces, will possibly find, that he has not only exceeded the French, but all those who have made any attempts on that kind of poetry, the incomparable author of Hudibras excepted. Mr. Cotton likewise translated several of Lucian's Dialogues into burlesque verse, printed in 8vo. London 1675, under the t.i.tle of the Scoffer Scoff'd. In 1689 a volume of poems, with Mr.

Cotton's name prefixed, was published in London: on these poems colonel Lovelace, Sir Alton c.o.c.kaine, Robert Harrick, esq; and Mr. Alexander Brome, complimented the author by copies of verses prefixed; but Mr.

Langbain observes, that the truest picture of Mr. Cotton's mind is to be seen in a little piece published at the end of these poems called Retirement; but the chief of Mr. Cotton's production, seems to be his translation of Montaigne's Essays, dedicated to George Lord Saville, Marquis of Hallifax; his lords.h.i.+p in a letter to him, thus express his esteem for the translator, and admiration of his performance. This letter is printed amongst the other pieces of the marquis's in a thin 12mo.

'Sir, I have too long delayed my thanks to you for giving me such an obliging evidence of your remembrance: that alone would have been a welcome present, but when joined with the book in the world I am the best entertained with, it raiseth a strong desire in me to be better known, where I am sure to be much pleased. I have, 'till now, thought wit could not be translated, and do still retain so much of that opinion, that I believe it impossible, except by one, whose genius cometh up to the author. You have so kept the original strength of his thought, that it almost tempts a man to believe the transmigration of souls. He hath by your means mended his first edition. To transplant and make him ours, is not only a valuable acquisition to us, but a just censure of the critical impertinence of those French scriblers, who have taken pains to make little cavils and exceptions, to lessen the reputation of this great man, whom nature hath made too big to confine himself to the exactness of a studied stile. He let his mind have its full flight, and shewed by a generous kind of negligence, that he did not write for praise, but to give to the world a true picture of himself, and of mankind. He scorned affected periods to please the mistaken reader with an empty chime of words; he hath no affectation to set himself out, and dependeth wholly upon the natural force of what is his own, and the excellent application of what he borroweth.

'You see, sir, I have kindness enough for Monsieur de Montaigne to be your rival, but n.o.body can pretend to be in equal compet.i.tion with you.

I do willingly yield, which is no small matter for a man to do to a more prosperous lover, and if you will repay this piece of justice with another, pray believe, that he who can translate such an author without doing him wrong, must not only make me glad, but proud of being his

most humble servant,'