Robert Aylett
Robert Aylett (Aylet) (1583?-1655) was an English lawyer and religious poet (date of this entry can be funny but it is a coincidence). He was born in Rivenhall, Essex and was educated at Trinity Hall, Cambridge, graduating B.A. in 1605, M.A. in 1608, and LL.D in 1614. Living at Feering, he acted for the archdeacon of Colchester and as justice of the peace. He also acted in Essex as commissary for the Bishop of London, and judge of the Commissary Court; he played a large part in enforcing the Laudian reforms in the county. He became Master of the Faculties in 1642.
As a poet his work is related to George Herbert’s, but he borrowed quite heavily from Edmund Spenser. Susanna, or the Arraignment of the Two Unjust Elders’ was published in 1622. Joseph, or Pharaoh’s Favorite, Peace with her Four Gardens (1622) and Thrift’s Equipage (1622) are other earlier works.
Divine and Moral Speculations (1654) was dedicated to Henry Pierrepont, 1st Marquess of Dorchester and his wife. A Wife not readymade but bespoke, by Dicus the Batchelor, and made up for him by his fellow shepheard Tityrus; in four pastoral eclogues (1653) is a secular piece.
Alfred Austin
Alfred Austin (30 May 1835 – 2 June 1913) was an English poet, who was appointed Poet Laureate in 1896 upon the death of Tennyson.
Alfred Austin was born in Headingley, near Leeds, on 30 May 1835. His father, Joseph Austin, was a merchant in Leeds; his mother, a sister of Joseph Locke, M.P. for Honiton. Austin was educated at Stonyhurst College (Clitheroe, Lancashire), and University of London, from which he graduated in 1853.
He became a barrister in 1857 before leaving law to concentrate on literature.
Politically conservative, Austin edited National Review for several years, and wrote leading articles for The Standard.
On Tennyson’s death in 1892 it was felt that none of the then living poets, except Algernon Charles Swinburne or William Morris, who were outside consideration on other grounds, was of sufficient distinction to succeed to the laurel crown, and for several years no new poet-laureate was nominated. In the interval the claims of one writer and another were assessed, but eventually, in 1896, Austin was appointed to the post after Morris had declined the post.
Austin died of unknown causes in Ashford, Kent, England.
n 1861, after two false starts in poetry and fiction, he made his first noteworthy appearance as a writer with The Season: a Satire, which contained incisive lines, and was marked by some promise both in wit and observation. In 1870 he published a volume of criticism, The Poetry of the Period, which was conceived in the spirit of satire, and attacked Tennyson, Browning, Matthew Arnold and Swinburne in an unrestrained fashion. The book aroused some discussion at the time, but its judgments were extremely uncritical.
As poet-laureate, his topical verses did not escape negative criticism; a hasty poem written in praise of the Jameson Raid in 1896 being a notable instance. The most effective characteristic of Austin’s poetry, as of the best of his prose, was a genuine and intimate love of nature. His prose idylls, The Garden that I love and In Veronica’s Garden, are full of a pleasant, open-air flavour. His lyrical poems are wanting in spontaneity and individuality, but many of them possess a simple, orderly charm, as of an English country lane. He had, indeed, a true love of England, sometimes not without a suspicion of insularity, but always fresh and ingenuous. A drama by him, Flodden Field, was acted at His Majesty’s theatre in 1903.
W. H. Auden
Wystan Hugh Auden (21 February 1907 – 29 September 1973) who signed his works W. H. Auden, was an Anglo-American poet, born in England, later an American citizen, regarded by many as one of the greatest writers of the 20th century. His work is noted for its stylistic and technical achievements, its engagement with moral and political issues, and its variety of tone, form and content. The central themes of his poetry are love, politics and citizenship, religion and morals, and the relationship between unique human beings and the anonymous, impersonal world of nature.
Auden grew up in Birmingham in a professional middle class family and read English literature at Christ Church, Oxford. His early poems, written in the late 1920s and early 1930s, alternated between telegraphic modern styles and fluent traditional ones, were written in an intense and dramatic tone, and established his reputation as a left-wing political poet and prophet. He became uncomfortable in this role in the later 1930s, and abandoned it after he moved to the United States in 1939, where he became an American citizen in 1946. His poems in the 1940s explored religious and ethical themes in a less dramatic manner than his earlier works, but still combined traditional forms and styles with new forms devised by Auden himself. In the 1950s and 1960s many of his poems focused on the ways in which words revealed and concealed emotions, and he took a particular interest in writing opera librettos, a form ideally suited to direct expression of strong feelings.
He was also a prolific writer of prose essays and reviews on literary, political, psychological and religious subjects, and he worked at various times on documentary films, poetic plays and other forms of performance. Throughout his career he was both controversial and influential. After his death, some of his poems, notably “Funeral Blues” (“Stop all the clocks”) and “September 1, 1939″, became widely known through films, broadcasts and popular media.
Auden published about four hundred poems, including seven long poems (two of them book-length). His poetry was encyclopedic in scope and method, ranging in style from obscure twentieth-century modernism to the lucid traditional forms such as ballads and limericks, from doggerel through haiku and villanelles to a “Christmas Oratorio” and a baroque eclogue in Anglo-Saxon meters. The tone and content of his poems ranged from pop-song clichés to complex philosophical meditations, from the corns on his toes to atoms and stars, from contemporary crises to the evolution of society.
He also wrote more than four hundred essays and reviews about literature, history, politics, music, religion, and many other subjects. He collaborated on plays with Christopher Isherwood and on opera libretti with Chester Kallman, worked with a group of artists and filmmakers on documentary films in the 1930s and with the New York Pro Musica early music group in the 1950s and 1960s. About collaboration he wrote in 1964: “collaboration has brought me greater erotic joy . . . than any sexual relations I have had.”
Auden controversially rewrote or discarded some of his most famous poems when he prepared his later collected editions. He wrote that he rejected poems that he found “boring” or “dishonest” in the sense that they expressed views that he had never held but had used only because he felt they would be rhetorically effective. His rejected poems include “Spain” and “September 1, 1939.” His literary executor, Edward Mendelson, argues in his introduction to Auden’s Selected Poems that Auden’s practice reflected his sense of the persuasive power of poetry and his reluctance to misuse it. (Selected Poems includes some poems that Auden rejected and early texts of poems that he revised.)
Auden’s stature in modern literature has been disputed, with opinions ranging from that of Hugh MacDiarmid, who called him “a complete wash-out”, to the obituarist in The Times (London), who wrote: “W. H. Auden, for long the enfant terrible of English poetry . . . emerges as its undisputed master.”
In his enfant terrible stage in the 1930s he was both praised and dismissed as a progressive and accessible voice, in contrast to the politically nostalgic and poetically obscure voice of T. S. Eliot. His departure for America in 1939 was hotly debated in Britain (once even in Parliament), with some critics treating it as a betrayal, and the role of influential young poet passed to Dylan Thomas, although defenders such as Geoffrey Grigson, in an introduction to a 1949 anthology of modern poetry, wrote that Auden “arches over all.” His stature was suggested by book titles such as Auden and After by Francis Scarfe (1942) and The Auden Generation by Samuel Hynes (1972).
In the US, starting in the late 1930s, the detached, ironic tone of Auden’s regular stanzas set the style for a whole generation of poets; John Ashbery recalled that in the 1940s Auden “was the modern poet.” His manner was so pervasive in American poetry that the ecstatic style of the Beat Generation was partly a reaction against his influence. In the 1950s and 1960s, some writers (notably Philip Larkin and Randall Jarrell) lamented that Auden’s work had declined from its earlier promise.
By the time of Auden’s death in 1973 he had attained the status of a respected elder statesman. The Encyclopaedia Britannica notes that “by the time of Eliot’s death in 1965 … a convincing case could be made for the assertion that Auden was indeed Eliot’s successor, as Eliot had inherited sole claim to supremacy when Yeats died in 1939.” With some exceptions, British critics tended to treat his early work as his best, while American critics tended to favor his middle and later work. Unlike other modern poets, his reputation did not decline after his death, and Joseph Brodsky wrote that his was “the greatest mind of the twentieth century.”
Auden’s popularity and familiarity suddenly increased after his “Funeral Blues” (“Stop all the clocks”) was read aloud in the film Four Weddings and a Funeral (1994); subsequently, a pamphlet edition of ten of his poems, Tell Me the Truth About Love, sold more than 275,000 copies. After September 11, 2001, his poem “September 1, 1939″ was widely circulated and frequently broadcast. Public readings and broadcast tributes in the UK and US in 2007 marked his centenary year.
Francis Atterbury
Francis Atterbury (March 6, 1663 – February 22, 1732), was an English man of letters, politician and bishop.
He was born at Milton Keynes in Buckinghamshire, where his father was rector. He was educated at Westminster School and Christ Church, Oxford, where he became a tutor. In 1682, he published a translation of Absalom and Achitophel into Latin verse with neither the style nor the versification typical of the Augustan age. In English composition he met greater success; in 1687 he published An Answer to some Considerations, the Spirit of Martin Luther and the Original of the Reformation, a reply to Obadiah Walker, who, when elected master of University College, Oxford in 1676, had printed in a press set up by him there an attack on the Reformation written by Abraham Woodhead. Atterbury’s treatise, though highly praised by Bishop Gilbert Burnet, was more distinguished for the vigour of his rhetoric than the soundness of his arguments, and the Papists accused him of treason, and of having, by implication, called King James “Judas”.
After the “Glorious Revolution”, Atterbury readily swore fealty to the new government. He had taken holy orders in 1687, preached occasionally in London with an eloquence which raised his reputation, and was soon appointed one of the royal chaplains. He ordinarily lived at Oxford, where he was the chief adviser and assistant of Henry Aldrich, under whom Christ Church was a stronghold of Toryism. He inspired a pupil, Charles Boyle, in the Examination of Dr. Bentley’s Dissertations on the Epistles of Phalaris, an attack (1698) on the Whig scholar Richard Bentley, arising out of Bentley’s impugnment of the genuineness of the Epistles of Phalaris. He was figured Swift in the Battle of the Books as the Apollo who directed the fight, and was, no doubt, largely the author of Boyle’s essay. Bentley spent two years in preparing his famous reply, which owned not only that the letters ascribed to Phalaris were spurious, but that all Atterbury’s wit and eloquence were a cloak for an audacious pretence at scholarship.
Atterbury was soon occupied in a dispute about matters still more important and exciting. High Church and Low Church divided the nation. The majority of the clergy were on the High Church side; the majority of King William’s bishops were inclined to latitudinarianism. In 1700 the Convocation, of which the lower house was overwhelmingly Tory, met after a gap of ten years. Atterbury threw himself with characteristic energy into the controversy, publishing a series of treatises. Many regarded him as the most intrepid champion that had ever defended the rights of the clergy against the oligarchy of Erastian prelates. In 1701 he was awarded with the archdeaconry of Totnes and a prebend in Exeter Cathedral. The lower house of Convocation voted him thanks for his services; the University of Oxford created him a rector of divinity; and in 1704, soon after the accession of Queen Anne, he was promoted to the deanery of Carlisle Cathedral (although the Tories still had the chief weight in the government).
In 1710, the prosecution of Henry Sacheverell produced a formidable explosion of High Church fanaticism. At such a moment Atterbury could not fail to be conspicuous. His inordinate zeal for the body to which he belonged and his rare talents for agitation and for controversy were again displayed. He took a chief part in framing that artful and eloquent speech which Sacheverell made at the bar of the Lords, and which presents a singular contrast to the absurd and scurrilous sermon which had very unwisely been honoured with impeachment. During the troubled and anxious months which followed the trial, Atterbury was among the most active of those pamphleteers who inflamed the nation against the Whig ministry and the Whig parliament. When the ministry changed and the parliament was dissolved, rewards were showered upon him. The lower house of Convocation elected him prolocutor, in which capacity he drew up, in 1711, the often-cited Representation of the State of Religion; and in August 1711, the queen, who had selected him as her chief adviser in ecclesiastical matters, appointed him dean of Christ Church on the death of his old friend and patron Aldrich.
At Oxford he was as conspicuous a failure as he had been at Carlisle, and it was said by his enemies that he was made a bishop because he was so bad a dean. Under his administration, Christ Church was in confusion, scandalous altercations took place, and there was reason to fear that the great Tory college would be ruined by the tyranny of the great Tory doctor. In 1713 he was removed to the bishopric of Rochester, which was then always united with the deanery of Westminster. Still higher dignities seemed to be before him, for though there were many able men on the episcopal bench, there was none who equalled or approached him in parliamentary talents. Had his party continued in power it is not improbable that he would have been raised to the archbishopric of Canterbury. The more splendid his prospects the more reason he had to dread the accession of a family which was well known to be partial to the Whigs, and there is every reason to believe that he was one of those politicians who hoped that they might be able, during the life of Anne, to prepare matters in such a way that at her death there might be little difficulty in setting aside the Act of Settlement and placing James Francis Edward Stuart on the throne.
Her sudden death confounded the projects of these conspirators, and, whatever Atterbury’s previous views may have been, he acquiesced in what he could not prevent, took the oaths to the House of Hanover, and did his best to ingratiate himself with the royal family. But his servility was requited with cold contempt; he became the most factious and pertinacious of all the opponents of the government. In the House of Lords his oratory, of old, pointed, lively and set off with every grace of pronunciation and of gesture, extorted the attention and admiration even of a hostile majority. Some of the most remarkable protests which appear in the journals of the peers were drawn up by him; and, some of the bitterest of those pamphlets which called on the English to stand up for their country against the aliens who had come from beyond the seas to oppress and plunder her, critics have detected his style. When the rebellion of 1715 broke out, he refused to sign the paper in which the bishops of the province of Canterbury declared their attachment to the Protestant accession, and in 1717, after having been long in indirect communication with the exiled family, he began to correspond directly with James Francis Edward Stuart.
In 1721, on the discovery of the plot for the capture of the royal family and the proclamation of King James, Atterbury was arrested with the other chief malcontents, and in 1722 committed to the Tower of London, where he remained in close confinement during some months. He had carried on his correspondence with the exiled family so cautiously that the circumstantial proofs of his guilt, though sufficient to produce entire moral conviction, were not sufficient to justify legal conviction. He could be reached only by a bill of pains and penalties. Such a bill was quite prepared to support, and in due course a bill passed the Commons depriving him of his spiritual dignities, banishing him for life, and forbidding any British subject to hold intercourse with him except by the royal permission. In the Lords the contest was sharp, but the bill finally passed by eighty-three votes to forty-three.
Atterbury took leave of those whom he loved with a dignity and tenderness worthy of a better man, to the last protesting his innocence with a singular disingenuousness. After a short stay at Brussels he went to Paris, and became the leading man among the Jacobite refugees there. He was invited to Rome by the Pretender, but Atterbury felt that a bishop of the Church of England would be out of place in Rome, and declined the invitation. During some months, however, he seemed to be high in the good graces of James. The correspondence between the master and the servant was constant. Atterbury’s merits were warmly acknowledged, his advice was respectfully received, and he was, as Bolingbroke had been before him, the prime minister of a king without a kingdom. He soon, however, perceived that his counsels were disregarded, if not distrusted. His proud spirit was deeply wounded. In 1728 he left Paris, occupied his residence at Montpellier, gave up politics, and devoted himself entirely to letters. In the sixth year of his exile he had so severe an illness that his daughter, Mrs Morice, herself very ill, determined to run all risks that she might see him once more. She met him at Toulouse, received the communion from his man, and died that night.
Atterbury survived the severe shock of his daughter’s death for years. He even returned to Paris and to the service of the Pretender, who had found out that he had not acted wisely in parting with one who, though a heretic, was the most able man in the Jacobite party. In the ninth year of his banishment he published a luminous, temperate and dignified vindication of himself against John Oldmixon, who had accused him of having, in concert with other Christ Church men, garbled the new edition of Clarendon’s History of the Rebellion. The charge, as respected Atterbury, had not the slightest foundation; for he was not one of the editors of the History, and never saw it until it was printed. A copy of this little work he sent to the Pretender, with a letter singularly eloquent and graceful. It was impossible, the old man said, that he should write anything on such a subject without being reminded of the resemblance between his own fate and that of Clarendon. They were the only two English subjects who had ever been banished from their country and debarred from all communication with their friends by act of parliament. But here the resemblance ended. One of the exiles had been so happy as to bear a chief part in the restoration of the royal house. All that the other could now do was to die asserting the rights of that house to the last. A few weeks after this letter was written Atterbury died, on 22 February 1732. His body was brought to England, and laid in Westminster Abbey. In his papers now kept at the Library of Westminster, he desired to be buried “as far from kings and politicians as may be.” Thus he is buried next to this century’s tourist information booth kiosk. The black slab is simple, indicating his name, birth and death dates. Due to tourist traffic, the inscription is now considerably worn.
It is agreeable to turn from Atterbury’s public to his private life. His turbulent spirit, wearied with faction and treason, now and then required repose, and found it in domestic endearments, and in the society of the most illustrious literary men of his age. Of his wife, Katherine Osborn, whom he married while at Oxford, little is known; but between him and his daughter there was an affection singularly close and tender. The gentleness of his manners when he was in the company of a few friends as such as seemed hardly credible to those who knew him from only his writings and speeches. Though Atterbury’s classical attainments were not great, his taste in English literature was excellent; and his admiration of genius was so strong that it overpowered even his political and religious antipathies. His fondness for Milton, the mortal enemy of the Stuarts and of the Church, was such as to many Tories seemed a crime; and he was the close friend of Addison. His favourite companions, however, were, as might have been expected, men whose politics had at least a tinge of Toryism. He lived on friendly terms with Jonathan Swift, John Arbuthnot and John Gay. With Matthew Prior he had a close intimacy. Alexander Pope found in Atterbury not only a warm admirer, but a most faithful, fearless and judicious adviser, as well as an editor as requested.
Anne Askew
Anne Askew (also spelled Anne Ayscough) (1521 – 16 July 1546) was an English poet and Protestant who was persecuted as a heretic. She is the only woman on record to have been tortured in the Tower of London before being burnt at the stake.
Born at Stallingborough into a notable family of Lincolnshire, she was forced by her father, Sir William Askew (1490-1541), to marry Thomas Kyme when she was fifteen, as a substitute for her sister Martha who had recently died. Anne rebelled against her husband by refusing to adopt his surname. It is also speculated that Anne had two children, their sex and names being unknown. The Dictionary of National Biography says no more than that she left her children to go “gospelling”. Her marriage did not go well, not least because of her strong Protestant beliefs. When she returned from London, where she had gone to preach against the doctrine of transubstantiation, her husband turned her out of the house. She then went again to London to ask for a divorce, justifying it from scripture (1 Corinthians, 7.15), on the grounds that her husband was not a believer.
Eventually, Anne left her husband and went to London where she gave sermons and distributed Protestant books. These books had been banned and so she was arrested. Her husband was sent for and ordered to take her home to Lincolnshire. Anne soon escaped and it was not long before she was back preaching in London.
Anne was arrested again. This time, Sir Anthony Kingston, the Constable of the Tower of London, was ordered to torture Anne in an attempt to force her to name other Protestants, and so Anne was put on the rack. Kingston refused to carry on torturing her, left the Tower, and sought a meeting with the King at his earliest convenience to explain his position and also to seek his pardon. Henry VIII pardoned Kingston but did not put an end to the torture. It was now left to Thomas Wriothesley and Richard Rich to take over.
According to Anne’s own account–and also that of gaolers within the Tower–she was tortured only once. It was usual to take a prisoner to see someone being put to the question before their turn came, and that often resulted in an immediate confession. In Anne’s case, however, it was not thought decent for her to see a man naked on the rack, so her first visit to the chamber involved the actual application of the torture. She was taken from her cell, at about ten o’clock in the morning, to the lower room of the White Tower to where the torture chamber was situated. Then, she was shown the rack and asked if she would name those who believed as she did. Although she never said so, she might have realized that the intention of her interrogators was to implicate Catherine Parr, the Queen Consort. Anne declined to name anyone at all, so she was asked to remove all her clothing except her shift, which she did. Anne then climbed onto the rack and lay quite still as she was spreadeagled and her wrists and ankles fastened. Again, she was asked for names, but she would say nothing. The wheel of the rack was turned, pulling Anne along the device and lifting her so that she was held taut about 5 inches above its bed and slowly stretched. In her own account written from prison, Anne said that she fainted with the pain. It was then that she was lowered and revived. This procedure was repeated twice more before the Lieutenant of the Tower stopped it and went to complain to the king.
Wriothesley and Rich were unable to persuade the professional torturers to carry on, so they set to work themselves. The rack was worked by a wheel at the head, and, in the first stage, that was turned and held taught by hand. For more reluctant prisoners, a ratchet could be applied, which stopped the rack from going slack between turns. Wriothesley and Rich put the ratchet on, and went to work stretching Anne. Apart from the pain of stretching muscles and cracking joints, the rack constricted the wrists and ankles, causing blood to flow from the finger nails. Anne’s cries could be heard in the garden next to the White Tower where the Lieutenant’s wife and daughter were walking. So piteous were the cries that they turned indoors and shut the windows. Anne gave no names, and her ordeal was finally ended when the Lieutenant ordered her to be returned to her cell.
She wrote a first-person account of her ordeal and her beliefs, which was published as the Examinations by John Bale, and later in John Foxe’s Acts and Monuments of 1563 which proclaims her as a Protestant martyr. Several ballads were written about her in the 17th century. She was burnt at Smithfield, London aged 25, on 16 July 1546. As Fuller described it, “she went to heaven in a chariot of fire.”
Anne Askew was carried to execution in a chair as she could not walk after her torture. She was dragged from the chair to the stake which had a small seat attached to it, which she sat astride. Those who witnessed her execution (including Lady Jane Grey) were impressed by her bravery, and many witnesses reported that throughout the long execution she did not scream until the flames reached her chest whereas the 3 men burned with her cried out from the first touch of the fire.
There was a resurgence of interest in her story during Victorian times, and the Bleets company produced an Anne Askew doll complete with rack and stake. One is on show at the Leeds Toy Museum.
John Ash
John Ash (born June 29, 1948) is an expatriate British poet and writer.
His lifelong interest in Byzantium (especially its architecture) is a major theme which runs through his poetry, fiction and travel writing, along with family friends and the three major cities he has lived in. As well as his books (largely published by Carcanet), his work has appeared in The New Yorker, The New York Times, The Village Voice, The Washington Post and Paris Review.
ohn Ash was born in Manchester, England in 1948, the son of schoolteachers. With a brief break to attend the University of Birmingham (B.A. 1969) and to take a post-graduation year in Cyprus, he remained in the city of his birth until 1985, at which time he moved to New York.
In New York, he became associated with the New York School of poets and formed a strong and lasting friendship with its leading proponent, John Ashbery. After stints teaching at the University of Iowa and the University of California, Berkeley, he moved to Istanbul in 1996, where he has lived since, first teaching at Boğaziçi University, before moving to Kadir Has University.
During this time several of his books, including Selected Works and To the City, have appeared in Turkish translations, published by Yapi Kredi Publications, who are affiliated with the bank of the same name. Deluxe editions of The Anitolikon, published in a side-by-side English and Turkish edition by Yapi Kredi, featured illustrations by Peter Hristoff, a noted Turkish artist of Bulgarian Christian origin living in New York.
In a review of To The City, Poetry Magazine said that John Ash “could be the best English poet of his generation”. In 2007 he was profiled in The Economist in an article by Hugh Pope, himself an author and formerly the Wall Street Journal correspondent in Istanbul. Pope has suggested that Ash is the leading light in a new “Istanbul School” of English-speaking poets taking their inspiration from the city.
Following Byzantine Journey, and other travel writing, Ash led tours the relevant sites and in 2006 wrote the script for the documentary “Istanbul for Aficionados”. He has also appeared in a BBC guide to Istanbul, broadcast in 2005 on BBC Four’s “Mediterranean Tales” strand.
Matthew Arnold
Matthew Arnold (24 December 1822 – 15 April 1888) was an English poet and cultural critic who worked as an inspector of schools. He was the son of Thomas Arnold, the famed headmaster of Rugby School, and brother to both Tom Arnold, literary professor, and William Delafield Arnold, novelist and colonial administrator. Matthew Arnold has been characterized as a sage writer, a type of writer who chastises and instructs the reader on contemporary social issues
The Reverend John Keble, who would become one of the leaders of the Oxford Movement, stood as godfather to Matthew. “Thomas Arnold admired Keble’s ‘hymns’ in The Christian Year, only reversing himself with exasperation when this old friend became a Romeward-tending ‘High Church’ reactionary in the 1830s.” In 1828, Arnold’s father was appointed Headmaster of Rugby School and his young family took up residence, that year, in the Headmaster’s house. In 1831, Arnold was tutored by his uncle, the Reverend John Buckland, at Laleham, Middlesex. In 1834, the Arnolds occupied a holiday home, Fox How, in the Lake District. William Wordsworth was a neighbor and close friend. Fox How became the family home after Dr. Arnold’s untimely death in 1842.
In 1836, Arnold was sent to Winchester College, but in 1837 he returned to Rugby School where he was enrolled in the fifth form. He moved to the sixth form in 1838 and thus came under the direct tutelage of his father. He wrote verse for the manuscript Fox How Magazine produced by Matthew and his brother Tom for the family’s enjoyment from 1838 to 1843. During his years as a Rugby student, he won school prizes for English essay writing, and Latin and English poetry. His prize poem, “Alaric at Rome,” was printed at Rugby.
In 1841, he won an open scholarship to Balliol College, Oxford. During his residence at Oxford, his friendship ripened with Arthur Hugh Clough, another graduate of Rugby who had been one of his father’s favourites. Arnold attended John Henry Newman’s sermons at St. Mary’s, but did not join the Oxford Movement. His father died suddenly of heart disease in 1842. Arnold’s poem “Cromwell” won the 1843 Newdigate prize. He graduated in the following year with a 2nd Class Honours degree in “Greats.”
In 1845, after a short interlude of teaching at Rugby, he was elected Fellow of Oriel College, Oxford. In 1847, he became Private Secretary to Lord Lansdowne, Lord President of the Council. In 1849, he published his first book of poetry, The Strayed Reveller. In 1850 Wordsworth died; Arnold published his “Memorial Verses” on the older poet in Fraser’s Magazine.
Wishing to marry, but unable to support a family on the wages of a private secretary, Arnold sought the position of, and was appointed, in April 1851, one of Her Majesty’s Inspector of Schools. Two months later, he married Frances Lucy, daughter of Sir William Wightman, Justice of the Queen’s Bench. The Arnolds had six children: Thomas (1852-1868); Trevenen William (1853-1872); Richard Penrose (1855-1908), an inspector of factories; Lucy Charlotte (1858-1934) who married Frederick W. Whitridge of New York, whom she had met during Arnold’s American lecture tour; Eleanore Mary Caroline (1861-1936) married (1) Hon. Armine Wodehouse in 1889, (2) William Masefield, Baron Sandhurst, in 1909; Basil Francis (1866-1868).
Arnold often described his duties as a school inspector as “drudgery,” although “at other times he acknowledged the benefit of regular work.” The inspectorship required him, at least at first, to travel constantly and across much of England. “Initially, Arnold was responsible for inspecting Nonconformist schools across a broad swath of central England. He spent many dreary hours during the 1850s in railway waiting-rooms and small-town hotels, and longer hours still in listening to children reciting their lessons and parents reciting their grievances. But that also meant that he, among the first generation of the railway age, travelled across more of England than any man of letters had ever done. Although his duties were later confined to a smaller area, Arnold knew the society of provincial England better than most of the metropolitan authors and politicians of the day.”
In 1852, Arnold published his second volume of poems, Empedocles on Etna, and Other Poems. In 1853, he published Poems: A New Edition, a selection from the two earlier volumes famously excluding “Empedocles on Etna”, but adding new poems, “Sohrab and Rustum” and “The Scholar-Gipsy”. In 1854, Poems: Second Series appeared; also a selection, it included the new poem, “Balder Dead”.
Arnold was elected Professor of Poetry at Oxford in 1857. He was the first to deliver his lectures in English rather than Latin. He was re-elected in 1862. On Translating Homer (1861) and the initial thoughts that Arnold would transform into Culture and Anarchy were among the fruits of the Oxford lectures. In 1859, he conducted the first of three trips to the continent at the behest of parliament to study European educational practices. He self-published The Popular Education of France (1861), the introduction to which was later published under the title “Democracy” (1879).
In 1865, Arnold published Essays in Criticism: First Series. Essays in Criticism: Second Series would not appear until November 1888, shortly after his untimely death. In 1866, he published Thyrsis, his elegy to Clough who had died in 1861. Culture and Anarchy, Arnold’s major work in social criticism (and one of the few pieces of his prose work currently in print) was published in 1869. Literature and Dogma, Arnold’s major work in religious criticism appeared in 1873. In 1883 and 1884, Arnold toured the United States delivering lectures on education, democracy and Ralph Waldo Emerson.
In 1886, he retired from school inspection and made another trip to America. Arnold died suddenly in 1888 of heart failure, when running to meet a tram that would have taken him to the Liverpool Landing Stage to see his daughter, who was visiting from the United States where she had moved after marrying an American.
Matthew Arnold “was indeed the most delightful of companions,” wrote G. W. E. Russell in Portraits of the Seventies; “a man of the world entirely free from worldliness and a man of letters without the faintest trace of pedantry.” A familiar figure at the Athenaeum Club, a frequent diner-out and guest at great country houses, fond of fishing and shooting, a lively conversationalist, affecting a combination of foppishness and Olympian grandeur, he read constantly, widely, and deeply, and in the intervals of supporting himself and his family by the quiet drudgery of school inspecting, filled notebook after notebook with meditations of an almost monastic tone. In his writings, he often baffled and sometimes annoyed his contemporaries by the apparent contradiction between his urbane, even frivolous manner in controversy, and the “high seriousness” of his critical views and the melancholy, almost plaintive note of much of his poetry. “A voice poking fun in the wilderness” was T. H. Warren’s description of him.
An Oxford Elegy by Vaughan Williams, a piece for narrator, mixed chorus and small orchestra (1949), is based on extracts from The Scholar Gypsy and Thyrsis.
Literary criticism
Arnold’s work as a literary critic began with the 1853 “Preface to the Poems”. In it, he attempted to explain his extreme act of self-censorship in excluding the dramatic poem “Empedocles on Etna”. With its emphasis on the importance of subject in poetry, on “clearness of arrangement, rigor of development, simplicity of style” learned from the Greeks, and in the strong imprint of Goethe and Wordsworth, may be observed nearly all the essential elements in his critical theory. George Watson described the preface, written by the thirty-one year old Arnold, as “oddly stiff and graceless when we think of the elegance of his later prose.”
Criticism began to take first place in Arnold’s writing with his appointment in 1857 to the professorship of poetry at Oxford, which he held for two successive terms of five years. In 1861 his lectures On Translating Homer were published, to be followed in 1862 by Last Words on Translating Homer, both volumes admirable in style and full of striking judgments and suggestive remarks, but built on rather arbitrary assumptions and reaching no well-established conclusions. Especially characteristic, both of his defects and his qualities, are on the one hand, Arnold’s unconvincing advocacy of English hexameters and his creation of a kind of literary absolute in the “grand style,” and, on the other, his keen feeling of the need for a disinterested and intelligent criticism in England.
Although Arnold’s poetry received only mixed reviews and attention during his lifetime, his forays into literary criticism were more successful. Arnold is famous for introducing a methodology of literary criticism somewhere between the historicist approach common to many critics at the time and the personal essay; he often moved quickly and easily from literary subjects to political and social issues. His Essays in Criticism (1865, 1888), remains a significant influence on critics to this day. In one of his most famous essays on the topic, “The Study of Poetry”, Arnold wrote that, “Without poetry, our science will appear incomplete; and most of what now passes with us for religion and philosophy will be replaced by poetry”. He considered the most important criteria used to judge the value of a poem were “high truth” and “high seriousness”. By this standard, Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales did not merit Arnold’s approval. Further, Arnold thought the works that had been proven to possess both “high truth” and “high seriousness”, such as those of Shakespeare and Milton, could be used as a basis of comparison to determine the merit of other works of poetry. He also sought for literary criticism to remain disinterested, and said that the appreciation should be of “the object as in itself it really is.”
Social criticism
He was led on from literary criticism to a more general critique of the spirit of his age. Between 1867 and 1869 he wrote Culture and Anarchy, famous for the term he popularised for the middle class of the English Victorian era population: “Philistines”, a word which derives its modern cultural meaning (in English – the German-language usage was well established) from him. Culture and Anarchy is also famous for its popularization of the phrase “sweetness and light,” first coined by Jonathan Swift.
Arnold’s “want of logic and thoroughness of thought” as noted by J. M. Robertson in Modern Humanists was an aspect of the inconsistency of which Arnold was accused. Few of his ideas were his own, and he failed to reconcile the conflicting influences which moved him so strongly. “There are four people, in especial,” he once wrote to Cardinal Newman, “from whom I am conscious of having learnt — a very different thing from merely receiving a strong impression — learnt habits, methods, ruling ideas, which are constantly with me; and the four are — Goethe, Wordsworth, Sainte-Beuve, and yourself.” Dr. Arnold must be added; the son’s fundamental likeness to the father was early pointed out by Swinburne, and was later attested by Matthew Arnold’s grandson, Mr. Arnold Whitridge. Brought up in the tenets of the Philistinism which, as a professed cosmopolitan and the Apostle of Culture he attacked, he remained something of a Philistine to the end.
Journalistic criticism
In 1887, Arnold was credited with coining the phrase “New Journalism”, a term that went on to define an entire genre of newspaper history, particularly Lord Northcliffe’s turn-of-the-century press empire. However, at the time, the target of Arnold’s irritation was not Northcliffe, but the sensational journalism of Pall Mall Gazette editor, W.T. Stead. Arnold had enjoyed a long and mutually beneficial association with the Pall Mall Gazette since its inception in 1865. As an occasional contributor, he had formed a particular friendship with its first editor, Frederick Greenwood and a close acquaintance with its second, John Morley. But he strongly disapproved of the muck-raking Stead, and declared that, under Stead, “the P.M.G., whatever may be its merits, is fast ceasing to be literature.”
Religious criticism
His religious views were unusual for his time. Scholars of Arnold’s works disagree on the nature of Arnold’s personal religious beliefs. Under the influence of Baruch Spinoza and his father, Dr. Thomas Arnold, he rejected the superstitious elements in religion, even while retaining a fascination for church rituals. Arnold seems to belong to a pragmatic middle ground that is more concerned with the poetry of religion and its virtues and values for society than with the existence of God. He wrote in the preface of God and the Bible in 1875 “The personages of the Christian heaven and their conversations are no more matter of fact than the personages of the Greek Olympus and their conversations.” He also wrote in Literature and Dogma: “The word ‘God’ is used in most cases as by no means a term of science or exact knowledge, but a term of poetry and eloquence, a term thrown out, so to speak, as a not fully grasped object of the speaker’s consciousness — a literary term, in short; and mankind mean different things by it as their consciousness differs.” He defined religion as “morality touched with emotion”. However, he also wrote in the same book, “to pass from a Christianity relying on its miracles to a Christianity relying on its natural truth is a great change. It can only be brought about by those whose attachment to Christianity is such, that they cannot part with it, and yet cannot but deal with it sincerely.” It seems likely by the context of this statement that he means himself to be counted amongst those who cannot part with Christianity even as they deal with it “sincerely”.
Edwin Arnold
Sir Edwin Arnold CSI CIE (June 10, 1832 – March 24, 1904) was an English poet and journalist, who is most known for his work, The Light of Asia.
Arnold was born at Gravesend, Kent, the second son of a Sussex magistrate, Robert Coles Arnold. One of his six children was the novelist Edwin Lester Arnold. He was educated at King’s School, Rochester; King’s College London; and University College, Oxford. He became a schoolmaster, at King Edward’s School, Birmingham, and in 1856 went to India as principal of the Government Sanskrit College at Poona, a post which he held for seven years, which includes a period during the mutiny of 1857, when he was able to render services for which he was publicly thanked by Lord Elphinstone in the Bombay council. Here he received the bias towards, and gathered material for, his future works.
Returning to England in 1861 he worked as a journalist on the staff of The Daily Telegraph, a newspaper with which he continued to be associated as editor for more than forty years, and later became its editor-in-chief. It was he who, on behalf of the proprietors of the Daily Telegraph in conjunction with the New York Herald, arranged the journey of H.M. Stanley to Africa to discover the course of the Congo River, and Stanley named after him a mountain to the north-east of Albert Edward Nyanza.
Arnold must also be credited with the first idea of a great trunk line traversing the entire African continent, for in 1874 he first employed the phrase “Cape to Cairo railway” subsequently popularized by Cecil Rhodes. It was, however, as a poet that he was best known to his contemporaries. The literary task which he set before him was the interpretation in English verse of the life and philosophy of the East. His chief work with this object is The Light of Asia which was translated in various languages like Hindi (tr. by Acharya Ram Chandra Shukla). It appeared in 1879 and was an immediate success, going through numerous editions in England and America, though its permanent place in literature must remain very uncertain. It is an Indian epic, dealing with the life and teaching of the Buddha, which are unfolded with ample local color and comely prosody. The poem contains many lines of unquestionable beauty; and its immediate popularity was rather increased than diminished by the twofold criticism to which it was subjected. On the one hand it was held by Oriental scholars to give false impression of Buddhist doctrine; while, on the other, suggested analogy between Sakyamuni and Jesus offended the taste of some devout Christians.
The latter criticism probably suggested to Arnold the idea of attempting a second narrative poem of which the central figure should be Jesus, the founder of Christianity, as the founder of Buddhism had been that of the first. But though The Light of the World (1891), in which this took shape, had considerable poetic merit, it lacked the novelty of theme and setting which had given the earlier poem much of its attractiveness; and it failed to repeat the success gained by The Light of Asia. Arnold’s other principal volumes of poetry were Indian Song of Songs (1875), Pearls of the Faith (1883), The Song Celestial (1885), With Sadi in the Garden (1888), Tiphar’s Wife (1892) and Adzuma or, The Japanese Wife (1893).
In his later years Arnold resided for some time in Japan, and his third wife was Japanese. In Seas and Lands (1891) and Japonica (1892) he gives an interesting study of Japanese life. He received the CSI on the occasion of the proclamation of Queen Victoria as Empress of India in 1877, and in 1888 was created CIE He also possessed decorations conferred by the rulers of Japan, Persia, Turkey and Siam.
He was a founder member, together with Anagarika Dharmapala, of the Mahabodhi Society of India.
Reginald Arkell
Reginald Arkell (1882-1959) was a British script writer and comic novelist who wrote many musical plays for the London theatre. The most popular of those was an adaptation of the spoof history book 1066 and All That: 1066—and all that: A Musical Comedy based on that Memorable History by Sellar and Yeatman. He was the author of A Cottage in the Country and the Green Fingers series of garden verse.
He was born on 14 October 1882 at Lechlade, Gloucestershire, England, was educated at Burford Grammar School and married actress Elizabeth Arkell. He died on 1 May 1959 at Cricklade, England.
Old Herbaceous is a classic British novel of the garden, with a title character as outsized and unforgettable as P. G. Wodehouse’s immortal manservant, Jeeves. Born at the dusk of the Victorian era, Bert Pinnegar, an awkward orphan child with one leg a tad longer than the other, rises from inauspicious schoolboy days spent picking wildflowers and dodging angry farmers to become the legendary head gardener “Old Herbaceous,” the most esteemed flower-show judge in the county and a famed horticultural wizard capable of producing dazzling April strawberries from the greenhouse and the exact morning glories his Lady spies on the French Riviera, “so blue, so blue it positively hurts.”
Sprinkled with nuggets of gardening wisdom, Old Herbaceous is a witty comic portrait of the most archetypal—and crotchety—head gardener ever to plant a row of bulbs at a British country house.
Christopher Anstey
Christopher Anstey (October 31, 1724 – August 3, 1805) was an English writer and poet.
Anstey was the son of a wealthy clergyman the rector of Brinkley, Dr. Anstey in Cambridgeshire, where he was born. He was educated at Eton College and King’s College, Cambridge, where he distinguished himself for his Latin verses. He became a fellow of his college (1745); but the degree of M.A. was withheld from him, owing to the offence caused by a speech made by him beginning: “Doctores sine doctrina, magistri artium sine artibus, et baccalaurei baculo potius quam lauro digni.” In 1754 he succeeded to the family estates and left Cambridge; and two years later he married the daughter of Felix Calvert of Albury Hall, Herts. For some time Anstey published nothing of any note, though he cultivated letters as well as his estates. Some visits to Bath, however, where later, in 1770, he made his permanent home, resulted in 1766 in his famous rhymed letters, The New Bath Guide or Memoirs of the Blunderhead Family…, a satirical poem of considerable sparkle, about the adventures of the “Blunderhead” family in Bath, from which Tobias Smollett is said to have drawn largely in his The Expedition of Humphry Clinker. The work had immediate success, and was enthusiastically praised for its original kind of humour by Walpole and Gray. The Election Ball, in Poetical Letters from Mr Inkle at Bath to his Wife at Gloucester (1776) sustained the reputation won by the Guide. He made many other excursions into literature which are hardly remembered, and ended his days as a country squire at the age of eighty. His Poetical Works were collected in 1808 (2 vols.) by the author’s son John (d. 1819), himself author of The Pleader’s Guide (1796), in the same vein with the New Bath Guide.
Anstey was buried at St. Swithin’s Church in Bath but has a memorial in the South Transept of Westminster Abbey.