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b) By Alfred, Lord Tennyson, c. 1874–80:
Charles Cowden Clarke on Rochester
Extract from ‘On the Comic Writers of England’, the Gentleman’s Magazine (November 1871), N.S. vii.
Charles Cowden Clarke 1787–1877 was a friend of Keats, Lamb, Leigh Hunt, Hazlitt and, later,
Dickens. He was a prolific writer and is perhaps best remembered now for his contribution to Shakespeare
One essay in this series having been devoted to the illustrious author of Hudibras, I pass (with this simple reference) to
his eminent contemporary, the witty Lord Rochester.
When some miserable wretch lies charged with an atrocious crime, there is no lack of daily agents to supply the
gaping multitude with tales of enormity imputed to his charge, the greater part being pure fictions. This was the fortune
of Lord Rochester, who was by nature one of the most brilliant, as he was by practice the most perilously licentious,
wit of his age. In the collected editions of his poems—or poems attributed to him—a large proportion of them are so
unworthy of his talent that it were unbelievable he could have so written below himself. The man had quite enough to
answer for on the score of moral delinquency without having stupidity as well as indecency heaped upon his memory.
But, indeed, the amount of natural ability that he possessed, and the proofs of it adduced by the testimony of the best
judges (his contemporaries), justified his candidature to a niche with the satirists. He was evidently a spoiled child of the
Court at the Restoration; for upon his early introduction to that world of ribaldry, he is said to have been remarkable
for the modesty of his demeanour, even to a tendency to blush, when distinguished in company. His ‘virgin modesty’,
however, soon became case-hardened in the Court furnace, and strange indeed was the course he ran.
With an inborn talent for shedding a lustre over the horizon of the gayest and most intellectual circles, he did not decline
hazarding his person in the rudest warfare. He was a volunteer in the great Dutch fight under Albemarle; and was
afterwards in the desperate affair at Berghem. Nothing but excess of excitement, and of triumph in everything he
undertook, seemed to content him.
Rochester also inherited from nature a noble generosity of disposition, an invariable affability of demeanour, and a
repugnance to all meanness in whatever station he found it; which he vented upon prince or commoner in a strain of
invective as surprising for its intrepidity as in its diction it was copious and forcible. Marvell, who was no feeble or
partial judge, and was himself a keen satirist, used to say that ‘Rochester was the only man in England who had the true
vein of satire.’1 It is to be presumed that Marvell would consider Butler as a ‘star dwelling so far apart’ that with him no
comparison could be instituted. Bishop Burnett also, when speaking of Rochester, says that he defended his personal
Lines 12–28 of A Satire against Mankind are quoted here.
THE CRITICAL HERITAGE
sallies against public characters by saying that ‘there were some people who could not be kept in order, or admonished,
but in that way.’ It has been said that ‘some brains will yield to an appeal, others only to a crow-bar.’
Before his last illness Rochester began to alter his way of life, and to inform himself of public business, and especially
of the constitution of his country. He spoke at times in the House of Peers with general approbation; and there is little
doubt that, with his uncommon powers of understanding, he would have become as celebrated for his acuteness in civil
policy as he had already been the admiration of the literary community for the remarkable fluency as well as versatility of
his wit and fancy. His reform, however, commenced too late; and, like other wits of the same era, he seemed to have
lived, as it were, in an atmosphere of hydro-oxygen, kindling the vital spark to an intensity of splendour, and thereby
anticipating its natural resources. Worn out with intemperance, he died in the bosom of Mother Church, at the early
age of thirty-three.
One branch of Rochester’s talent consisted in the most successful mimicry. When he was banished from the Court,
for some personal libel on the Duke of York (James II), whom he pursued with implacable hatred, and when he was, in
fact, playing at hide-and-seek with the civil powers, he upon one occasion turned mountebank, and harangued the
populace upon Tower Hill in a strain of extraordinary cleverness, acting his part of the quack with such truth that even
those who were in his secret could perceive nothing by which he might be betrayed.
Rochester’s satires are by no means to be indiscriminately instanced; and the keenest are the least tolerable anywhere.
Here are four lines from his Satire on the Times,1 quoted solely to give an idea of the rough and bold speaking of that age,
when even the highest persons in the State became the objects of a lynch-law vituperation. In the reign of Charles II
licence of speech and licentiousness of morals appear to have struggled for a bad pre-eminence—each a natural
consequence of the other; and the consequence was as fortunate as natural; for, like the Kilkenny cats, they devoured
each other. This is the passage of personality alluded to; it is an attack upon the same Duke of York, who was Lord High
Admiral. Its coarse insolence forms its distinguishing feature: —
This is the man whose vice each satire feeds;
And for whom no one virtue intercedes:
Destin’d for England’s plague from infant time;
Curs’d with a person fouler than his crime.
Rochester’s poem on Nothing has been justly celebrated for its wit and originality; indeed, it comprises more novelty of
thought and satirical point than any of his poems. Every stanza contains an epigram; and each is relieved by a grave or
playful allusion to the subject, and its term, Nothing. Here is a grave stanza, which seems almost like irony as coming
from so ribald a pen: but Rochester was a ribald from example and contamination, not from nature and principle. He
thus writes on Nothing: —
Yet this of thee the wise may truly say:
Thou from the virtuous Nothing tak’st away;
And to be part of thee the wicked wisely pray.
The next stanza contains a playful sarcasm: —
Quoted by John Aubrey (No. 29).
Now rejected from the Rochester canon.
Whilst weighty Something modestly abstains
From princes’ coffers, and from statesmen’s brains;
And Nothing there like stately Nothing reigns.
And here is the summary and conclusion of the poem: —
French truth, Dutch prowess, British policy,
Hibernian learning, Scotch civility,
Spaniards’ despatch, Danes’ wit, are mainly seen in thee!
As an instance that Rochester knew the better course of religious principles, although he was swayed by the evil, an
anecdote is told of one of the Bishops at Court relating, in his hearing, to King Charles, the increase and popularity of
Baxter the Nonconformist divine’s preaching; adding, ‘I went down, your Majesty, into his neighbourhood, and
preached myself; and yet, my congregation was very small, while Baxter’s was too numerous for the church.’ Rochester
quickly replied, ‘Your Majesty can be at no loss to recognise the cause of my lord Bishop’s non-success in his mission;
since his lordship confesses to your Majesty that he went to “preach himself;” now Baxter preached no one but his
Master.’ The playfulness of the retort harmonises with the feeling which dictated it.
Henry Morley is contemptuous
A First Sketch of English Literature (1873), p. 667.
This ‘sketch of English Literature’ by the Professor of English at London University went through
numerous editions and reprints between the first edition in 1873 and the end of the century.
In 1680 Burnet wrote an account of the penitent close of the dissolute life of John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester, one of the
court wits who trifled in verse, and whose best piece of verse is upon Nothing.
A courtier and poet of much higher mark was Wentworth Dillon, Earl of Roscommon.
Edmund Gosse on Rochester
From the introduction to a selection of Rochester’s poems in The Seventeenth Century (1880), pp. 424–5.
This is a volume in the collection The English Poets, ed. T.H.Ward.
Sir Edmund Gosse (1849–1928), was a distinguished scholar and critic. The selection of Rochester’s
poetry in the anthology consists of six of the songs (including the spurious ‘I cannot change as others do’ —
probably by Carr Scroope) and an epigram on Charles II.
By a strange and melancholy paradox the finest lyrical poet of the Restoration was also its worst-natured man. Infamous
in a lax age for his debaucheries, the Earl of Rochester was unfaithful as a subject, shifting and treacherous as a friend,
and untrustworthy as a man of honour. His habitual drunkenness may be taken perhaps as an excuse for the physical
cowardice for which he was notorious, and his early decline in bodily strength as the cause of his extreme bitterness of
tongue and savage malice. So sullen was his humour, so cruel his pursuit of sensual pleasure, that this figure seems to
pass through the social history of his time, like that of a veritable devil. Yet there were points at which the character of
this unfortunate and abandoned person was not wholly vile. Within our own age his letters to his wife have surprised
the world by their tenderness and quiet domestic humour, and, above all, the finest of his songs reveal a sweetness and
purity of feeling for which the legends of his life are very far from preparing us.
The volumes which continued to be reprinted for nearly a century under the title of Rochester’s Poems form a kind
of ‘Parnasse Satyrique’ into which a modern reader can scarcely venture to dip. Of this notorious collection a large part
was spurious; the offensive matter that had to be removed from the writings of Dorset, Buckinghamshire, Butler, and
other less famous profligate poets, found an asylum under the infamy of the name of Rochester. But readers who are
fortunate enough to secure the volume edited by the dead poet’s friends in 1691 will find no more indiscretions than are
familiar in all poetry of the Restoration, and will discover, what they will not find elsewhere, the exquisite lyrics on
which the fame of Rochester should rest. His satires, as trenchant and vigorous as they are foul, are not included in this
edition; he uses the English language in them as Poggio and Filelfo1 had used Latin. As a dramatist he is only known by his
adaptation, or travesty, of Fletcher’s tragedy of Valentinian; of which the sole point of interest is that he omitted all
Fletcher’s exquisite songs, including the unequalled ‘Hear ye ladies that despise,’ and introduced a very good song of his
own, the latter as characteristically of the Restoration as the former were Elizabethan.
With Rochester the power of writing songs died in England until the age of Blake and Burns. He was the last of the
cavalier lyrists, and in some respects the best. In the qualities that a song demands, simplicity, brevity, pathos and
tenderness, he arrives nearer to pure excellence than any one between Carew and Burns. His style is without
adornment, and, save in this one matter of song-writing, he is weighed down by the dryness and inefficiency of his age.
But by the side of Sedley or of Congreve he seems as fresh as by the side of Dryden he seems light and flowing, turning
his trill of song brightly and sweetly, with the consummate artlessness of true art. Occasionally, as in the piece, not
quoted here, called The Mistress, he is surprisingly like Donne in the quaint force and ingenuity of his images. But the fact
THE CRITICAL HERITAGE
is that the muse of Rochester resembles nothing so much as a beautiful child which has wantonly rolled itself in the
mud, and which has grown so dirty that the ordinary wayfarer would rather pass it hurriedly by, than do justice to its
Two early fifteenth-century Italian humanist poets.
Article in the Encyclopaedia Britannica
The first edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica (Edinburgh, 1771) has no entry on Rochester. Thereafter
notices are largely biographical. The comments on the poetry in the third and fourth editions (1797,
1810), for instance, are confined to quoting Walpole’s disapproval. The extract from the ninth edition is
exceptional. Later editions revert to a largely biographical interest.
Extract from the ninth edition:
Rochester was one of the unworthies of the ‘merry monarch, scandalous and poor’
Who never said a foolish thing
Nor ever did a wise one.
Rochester is the author of both of these imperishable descriptions of Charles II, and by them and his poem Upon Nothing
and his death bed conversation with Bishop Burnet is now chiefly known. His poetry has hardly had a fair chance against
that of his contemporaries, for owing to his scandalous character, which was probably worse than the time only in
respect of his ostentatious defiance of proprieties, all kinds of indecencies were fathered upon him and inserted in
unauthorized editions of his works. This has ensured his exclusion from decent libraries, an edition issued in 1691 by
friends careful of his memory having been pushed out of sight by the more piquant publications. [Comment on his
character omitted.] Some of his lyrics are very pretty, full of ingenious fancy and musical rhythm, but wit and intellect
are more marked in his writing than the free flow of lyrical sentiment. For wit, versatility and intense vitality of
intellect this strangely wasted life stood high above the level of the age.