most fanciful. Even those laureates whose writings are most contemned have been the cause of wit in others; to them it is we owe the finest satirical poems in the language: Mac Flecknoe and The Dunciad, The Rehearsal, and some of the wittiest passages in English Bards and Scotch Reviewers; thus the names of a Tate, Eusden, or a Pye will be preserved for ever, like flies in amber "The things, we know, are neither rich nor rare, But wonder how the devil they got there." Several of our laureates have enjoyed considerable fame during their lifetime for poems of only ephemeral interest; others there are, whose works have now become obsolete in style and language; while it will be seen that a few have owed their appointment entirely to the influence of patrons, regardless of their fitness for the post. The official duties were always light; they consisted in the composition of an ode to the Sovereign on his, or her, birthday, another on New Year's Day, and an occasional poem to celebrate important national events, written entirely at the poet's option both as to the subject and his treatment of it. Since Southey happily ceased to perform even these small services, the office has remained a complete sinecure, for although Mr. Tennyson has written a few Court poems, they have appeared at long and most irregular intervals. This fact is scarcely to be regretted when we remember what Whitehead says of the Laureate who "Obliged by sack and pension, Having thus given an outline (necessarily an imperfect one) of the origin of the office of poet laureate, the biographical accounts of its holders will now follow, commencing with the Volunteer Laureates. It is not intended to enter into detailed criticisms of their poetical works, nor to weary the reader with a too minute inquiry into the ordinary events of that every-day life which a poet must lead, in common with lesser mortals. The particular points to which attention will be drawn, are those relating to the poets' connection with the office, and the events marking their tenure of it; the literary attacks they were subjected to, the envy, malice, and detraction they had to bear, illustrated by numerous satirical epigrams and curious lampoons which have never yet been collected together. THE VOLUNTEER LAUREATES. "Ev'n now, confess'd to my adoring eyes, T. WARTON.-The Triumph of Isis. GEOFFREY CHAUCER, the ornament of the Courts of Edward III. and Richard II., was born in London about 1328. There is some doubt at which of the universities he studied, but Warton claims him for Oxford. In the Court of Love, Chaucer speaks of himself as of Cambridge, clerk; this, whilst no proof that he was educated at Cambridge, might be admitted as an argument that he did not study at Oxford. He went with the invading army of Edward III. to France, and was taken prisoner at the siege of Retters in 1359. On regaining his liberty he travelled into Italy, where he was introduced to Petrarch at a wedding party, at which Froissart the chronicler was present, and most probably Boccaccio also. He had held some minor court appointments under Edward III., to whose son, John of Gaunt, he was distantly related by marriage, and in 1368 he was appointed Gentleman of the Privy Chamber, with a grant of twenty marks, equal to a little more than £200 of our present coinage. He was afterwards made Comptroller of the Customs of Wine and Wool in the Port of London, and received a pitcher of wine daily from the royal table, an allowance which was commuted by Richard II. for a pension of twenty marks granted by letters patent. Having adopted the doctrine of Wickliffe, he fell under the displeasure of the Court, was imprisoned, and had to dispose of both his pensions of twenty marks each, in 1388, but having renounced his heretical doctrines, and exposed his confederates, he regained the favour of the king. He held at various times the office of Clerk of the King's Works in the Palace of Westminster, in the Royal Manors of Shene, Kennington, Byfleet, and Clapton, and in the mews at Charing; in 1380 he superintended the restoration of St. George's Chapel, Windsor. He finally retired to the Royal Manor of Woodstock (on which Blenheim House now stands) where he gave himself up to literary pursuits, and composed The Canterbury Tales, which have delighted so many generations of his countrymen. Many of Chaucer's fables are derived from Il Decamerone of Boccaccio; he has somewhat improved them by putting them into verse; he has preserved all the indelicacy of the originals, but it must not be forgotten that our forefathers were an outspoken race of men, and that much of the language they generally used would be considered very coarse by the superfine superficials of to-day, who know nothing of the origin and development of our modern English, which may truly be said to have lost in vigour in almost every instance where it has gained in refinement on the Chaucerian dialect. As pictures of life in England 500 years ago Chaucer's writings are invaluable to the student, and he merits the deepest reverence of every lover of English literature, as the first writer of any pretension who adopted the mother tongue for his poetry, and proved incontestably that it admitted of great descriptive power, noble expression, and keen wit. The deeply-seated love for Chaucer's works is evidenced by the numerous societies constantly occupied in the elucidation of the circumstances of his life, and of doubtful passages in his poems. Unfortunately for the general reader his wit and gaiety are much dimmed by the obsolete dialect, and antique orthography. Notwithstanding all the keys and glossaries which have been written, Addison justly remarks:— "Long had our dull forefathers slept supine, Nor felt the raptures of the tuneful nine, And tries to make his readers laugh in vain.” Although neither Chaucer, nor his successor, Gower, was officially appointed Laureate, it is certain the former used the title until his death, when Gower assumed it. Chaucer died in London on the 25th October, 1400, and was buried in the great south cross aisle of Westminster Abbey, which has since fitly been called Poet's Corner, and is now crowded with the monuments of men who have adorned the language which Chaucer called into existence. In 1555 one Nicholas Brigham, an Oxford student, deposited the bones of Chaucer under a new tomb, which he erected at his own cost, and inscribed with a new epitaph, in the chapel of Bishop Blase in the Abbey (or St. Peter's Church, as old writers always style it): this tomb still exists. |