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Poets, Patrons, and Professors (1962)

Poets, Patrons, and Professors

(1962)–J.A. van Dorsten–rechtenstatus Auteursrechtelijk beschermd

Sir Philip Sidney, Daniel Rogers, and the Leiden Humanists


Vorige Volgende

IV Anglo-Leiden integration

Leicester's nephew, then, went south-east to pursue ‘that perilous game in forreine soyle’.1 ‘Semiaulicus et semimilitaris’ it was, said Hotman to Lipsius (who was then publishing a book for him2) in his request for a cheap set of Ortelius' maps for the summer campaign - cheap, because of their ‘splendid poverty’.3 Meanwhile literary Leiden continued as if the campaigners had never left.

A central figure no doubt was Geoffrey Whitney, ‘Anglus studens litterarum’ since 1 March and living, as we have seen, at the ‘Huis te Lochorst’4. Ignoring for the present his other friends, we find him surrounded by a small group of students who had chosen the same address.5 There was ‘Gotefridus Wichtinus Anglus’ (Wight?), ‘Johannes Proost Middelburgensis’, and ‘Petrus Colvius Brugensis’ (Colve): all three had moved into the house on the same day as Whitney. They found three others there already: ‘Hubertus Joannis Zierichzeënsis’ (Jansz.?), ‘Theobaldus Teilinc’ of the same town, and ‘Johannes de Grave Amsterdamensis’ who left in October. On 28 April two Englishmen joined them, ‘Robertus Penrudoc anglus’, and ‘Thomas Whitleus anglus’ (Wheteley) who left again before the new Album Recensionum list was drawn up early in 1587. Finally, in July, another Dutchman came, ‘Adrianus Tas Middelburgensis’.

Some of these students were among his close friends. When

in 1586 he published an enlarged version of the previous year's present to Leicester, his Choice of emblemes1, tributes to and from ‘M. Thomas Wheteley’ and Petrus Colvius were included. In the case of Wheteley the compliment may not have been altogether free from irony, the emblem showing a man playing chess while his house is on fire, and the text beginning: ‘Awake from sleepe secure ...’2. Since verses were dedicated ‘to such persons as I [i.e. Whitney] thinke the Emblemes doe best fitte’3, the other was an undoubted compliment. Colvius was soon to make his name as a philologist by a highly esteemed edition of Apuleius. Popular tradition has it that a kick from a mule killed him, at the age of twenty-seven; but now he was only nineteen and a devoted arts student, sharing rooms with Whitney, who offered him the emblem of the two Minervas, one watching, one resting, and an appropriate verse.4

A number of contingencies account for the fact that the first English emblem-book was a Leiden publication. Its dedication to Leicester ‘presentlie before his Honour passed the seas into the lowe countries’3 in a sense prepared its appearance in Holland, while the fact that the author remained at Leiden brought it to the notice of the scholars

of that town - who, incidentally, were well-acquainted with emblem writing and perhaps more emblem-minded than their English colleagues. It was obviously there that Whitney was ‘earnestlie required by somme that perused the same, to have it imprinted’. And it was only there that his book could be printed, ‘in the house of Christopher Plantyn, by Francis Raphelengius’ where all the blocks were ready for use. These were from editions of Sambucus, Junius, Alciatus, and others, best sellers in Plantin's shops, and Whitney's source-material even before he came to Holland.

A choice of emblemes was the major work in English of the Leiden office of great Plantin, printer to the University, ‘protototypographotatos’ as Silvius, his predecessor, had once ironically called him in a Latin sentence1. Plantin himself had left in 1585, a surprise even to some of his best friends.2 The Leiden branch was taken over by his son-in-law Franciscus Raphelengius, reputedly a former Cambridge lecturer3 and certainly Professor of Hebrew at Leiden soon after the printing of Whitney's book4. On 17 January 1586 a passport for the Raphelengius family was issued at Antwerp,5 on 3 March Raphelengius was appointed printer to the University, and on 4 May Whitney's ‘To the Reader’ was signed ‘at Leyden in Holland’ before being set up for the prefatory sheets of his collection.

As a curious and well-known compilation, Whitney's devices are deservedly famous. As a monument of Anglo-Leiden relations they exceed in interest the mere patronage of a Gubernator Hollandiae - though not, unfortunately, for any outstanding poetic merit. Between the author's arrival in the Low Countries and the publication some five months later, the book underwent three major alterations. Some



illustratie
(1) J. Sambucus, Emblemata, ed. Leiden, 1584, p. 126.




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(2) A. Alciatus, Emblemata, ed. Leiden, 1591, p. 645.




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(3) Sambucus, Emblemata, p. 98.




illustratie
(4) Alciatus, Emblemata, p. 581.

Figure 3
Plantin blocks used in Whitney's Emblemes. Device 1 was dedicated to Petrus Colvius, 2 to Janus Dousa, 3 to Janus Dousa the Younger, and 4 to Justus Lipsius.


dedications were added ‘to certaine of my frendes, to whome either in dutie or frendship, I am divers waies bounde’, Dutchmen and Englishmen alike. Secondly, some Latin phrases were added either as glosses or ‘to helpe and further some of my acquaintance wheare this booke was imprinted, who having no taste in the Englishe tonge, yet weare earnestly addicted to the understandinge hereof’. Finally, a number of new commendatory verses were inserted on the half-sheet between his prefaces and the text.

First came ‘Janus Dousa à Noortwijck’ - not the Elder, as one might have expected after Whitney's contributions to the Odarum Britannicarum liber, but the Younger, who wrote ‘nomine Patris’1. But whereas Dousa's verse contained the obvious complimental comparison with other emblematists, Bonaventura Vulcanius, who contributed the second poem, produced a curiously English and therefore more unexpected commendation: ‘Una duos genuit Galfridos Anglia...’, Chaucer and Whitney, one famous already, the other soon. A third commendator was Colvius; then followed two Englishmen with poems possibly of an earlier date. Thus the Emblemes appeared preceded by a select chorus of Leiden poets, for whose use it was specially adapted. And Whitney returned their compliments by devoting emblems to the Dousas, to Colvius, to Raphelengius, and also to Lipsius. The absence of one to Vulcanius suggests that he had neither received nor expected the Professor's poem when his official text went to the printer's. For the rest, Whitney's selection of devices shows great care, and frequently close acquaintance with his dedicatees. To characterize Dousa, the poet-soldier, was easy. Whitney chose the poet's ‘ensign’, a white swan2,

and was considerate enough to give Dousa the full weight of Latin glossing. But his son - translator after all of Constable's sonnets - received only two lines of Ovid after twelve lines of English which conveyed an admonition befitting both him and the author.1 Six lines, all in English, recall ‘the inward foe’ which Raphelengius had recently seen to ‘devoure a strong cittie’ at the siege of Antwerp.2 Towards the end of the book Whitney shows his knowledge of Leiden figures still more clearly by dedicating to Lipsius, the perennial victim of malice from orthodox-religious quarters, the Alciatus emblem of ‘a dog barking at his shadow in the moonlight’. Some of his least pedestrian verses gave the old Plantin woodcut of ‘Inanis impetus’ an agreeably new appearance.3

Although his unsteady pen hardly deserves the honour, Whitney, too, must have been looked upon as a representative of the new English poetry: not, in all likelihood, as belonging to Sidney's immediate circle, but certainly as one of his sincere admirers. Whitney addresses a verse, without a woodcut, ‘To the honorable Sir Philippe Sidney Knight, Gouvernour of the Garrison, and towne of Vlissinge’ at the very beginning of Part II of the Emblemes where it stands like a hidden dedication.1 But the crucial passage occurs in the long poem under the Junius block of ‘Fame armed with a pen’ which he dedicated to Edward Dyer after Sidney had modestly refused it ‘as not his proper due’:

 
When frowning fatall dame, that stoppes our course in fine,+
 
The thred of noble Surreys life, made hast for to untwine,
 
Apollo chang'd his cheare, and lay'd awaie his lute,
 
And Pallas, and the Muses sad, did weare a mourninge sute.
 
And then, the goulden pen, in case of sables cladde,
 
Was lock'd in chiste of Ebonie, and to Parnassus had.
 
But, as all times do chaunge, so passions have their space;
 
And cloudie skies at lengthe are clear'd, with Phoebus chearefull face.
 
For, when that barren verse made Muses voide of mirthe;
 
Behoulde, Lusina sweetelie sounge, of Sidneys ioyfull birthe.+
 
Whome mightie Iove did blesse, with graces from above:
 
On whome, did fortune frendlie smile, and nature most did love.
 
And then, behoulde, the pen, was bij Mercurius sente,
 
Wherewith, hee also gave to him, the gifte for to invente.
 
That, when hee first began, his vayne in verse to showe.
 
More sweete then honie, was the stile, that from his penne did flowe.
 
Wherewith, in youthe hee us'd to bannishe idle fittes;
 
That nowe, his workes of endlesse fame, delighte the worthie wittes.
 
No haulting verse hee writes, but matcheth former times.
 
No *Cherillus, he can abide, nor Poëttes patched rimes.
 
What volume hath hee writte, that rest among his frendes,
 
Which needes no other praise at all, eche worke it selfe comendes.
 
So, that hee famous lives, at home, and farre, and neare;
 
For those that live in other landes, of Sidneys giftes doe heare.
 
And suche as Muses serve, in darkenes meere doe dwell;
 
If that they have not seene his workes, they doe so farre excell.
 
Wherefore, for to extoll his name in what I might,
 
This Embleme lo, I did present, unto this worthie Knight.
 
..............1

Whitney makes two interesting points. Firstly that he knew and admired the courtier's ‘goulden pen’, possibly himself possessing some of its fruits, and secondly his emphatic statement that Sidney's gifts were known not only ‘among his frendes’ but even ‘in other landes’ where Whitney would ‘extoll his name’ for the benefit of poets who ‘in darkenes meere doe dwell’.

In the address of Whitney's Emblemes a Leiden audience was included which had proved ‘earnestlie addicted to the understandinge hereof’. And through the highly fashionable medium of emblemata an Anglo-Leiden student proclaimed the exemplary qualities of one other writer, Sidney, a known lover and maker of devices. In a receptive milieu of poets the first English emblem-book was produced.

 

A few months later there appeared a booklet, now rare and almost forgotten, that in a small compass contains a summary of much of this story. It brought together soldiering and

language courses, Dutch, English, and traditional Latin, practical linguistics and Anglo-Leiden ‘schools’ of verse. And it linked the principal groups of agents: the Dousas, Lipsius, and Van Hout - the English printer-schoolmaster Basson - Gilpin's host Van Brouchoven - Geoffrey Whitney - Leicester himself - the Dutch poet Walraven - and Sidney's eulogist George Whetstone, ‘a man singularly well skyld in this faculty of Poetrie’1. The book was Whetstone's The honourable reputation of a souldier of 1585, translated by Walraven as De eerweerdighe achtbaerheyt van een soldener in 1586, and together printed in parallel columns by Paedts - at one time printer of Stanyhurst's Aeneis2 - for Thomas Basson, the publisher3.

How the English original came to Leiden is uncertain. Walraven in the first of his elaborate prefaces merely speaks of it as ‘having been given’ to him. At first sight the author's movements do not seem to include a visit to Leiden. George Whetstone is supposed not to have visited Holland before 15874 when he became the assistant of Thomas Digges, Mustermaster General; and then, as an unpopular muster-master, was killed by a Captain U(ve)dall, the same whom he had recently honoured in his report (at second hand?) of Sidney's last battle5. But there is reason to believe that Whetstone did come to Leiden during Leicester's second visit. For at that time two Whetstones were entered in Van Hout's lists:

‘mr Watston’ with one servant, the billet lost, but at home [24 January 1586]1
‘mr Wetston’ with 2 servants [24 January 1586]2

The second, with two servants, could have been his brother Bernard, a friend of Gilpin's3, who was mustered with three men in The Hague on 10 January4, again visited Leiden as ‘mr Barnart Wetston’ (‘two beds’) on 10 March, and perhaps was the same ‘mr hwatston’ (and two servants) who came with Leicester's first entry5. In that case the other Whetstone of 24 January must be George Whetstone, who lost his billet but was at home.6

This would almost coincide with the sudden English interest of a Dutch poet, Jacob Walraven, who ‘had never set foot in England’. Fifteen years before, the writer tells us in a preface, he had learned a little of the language at Antwerp. Then Leicester came, and one of his suite, George Brooke, stayed with him. Brooke, like many others, desired to learn French while travelling in Holland, and so he taught Walraven English in return, Latin serving them as an interpreter.7 One cannot question this detailed account of the revival of his interest in English. Brooke did indeed visit Leiden, as we know from lists which include:

‘mr George brouc’ 10 January 15868
‘Mr Jorys brouc’ with 3 servants, 3 beds, 12 January 15869

Officially, however, he was never at Walraven's house or anywhere near. For as to Walraven's guests, we find the following names:

‘Sr Arthus bassit’ with 2 servants on 2 beds 12 January 1586
‘Docter clerc consulier’ with 2 servants 16 January 1586
‘Januarij den 22 Monsieur thomas’ with 2 beds10
nobody [i.e. ‘exemption’?]
‘Mr thomas brouc’ with two beds [erased: has not yet been there] has arrived to day [i.e. shortly after 24 January]1
‘Mr Franchoys fosquij’ 10 March 1586
2 young gentlemen 25 July 15862

The obvious solution must be that ‘thomas brouc’ was a lapsus pennae. This at any rate makes George Brooke the guest of Jacob Walraven. A guest indeed, for Walraven was one of the few university men to waive the privilege and accept a soldier's billet. If with Brooke Whitney comes into the picture even before his academic registration, this would afford an explanation of the soldier Whitney's introduction to the Leiden literary world: for they were friends, as one of Whitney's emblems proves3.

At that time Thomas Basson began his English school, probably ‘on the Breestraat near the Blue Stone’ - like Van Hout - where his bookshop was situated.4 There Walraven, Van Hout, Dousa, and Van Brouchoven learned English. Apparently there was a general demand for language courses among Dutchmen and Englishmen alike. Basson was the local expert, translator of a few pamphlets including Leicester's Lawes and ordinances. He prepared a now lost textbook entitled ‘Coniugatien in Engelsch en Nederduytsch’ for which his dedicatees, the Leiden magistrates, presented him with a nine guilder gratuity on 8 May of the same year.5 But seeing the purely practical necessity of some proficiency in each other's language, Walraven thought this textbook not enough and recommended the foundation of schools, the translation of Sir Thomas Smith's ‘De recta & emendata Anglicae linguae pronunciatione’6 which he apparently knew, and the composition of an English book comparable to Plantin's ‘treasuries’ of French and Flemish.7 As a modest



illustratie
Figure 4
The appendix to Whetstone/Walraven, The honourable reputation of a souldier/De eerweerdighe achtbaerheyt van een soldener, Leiden, 1586.


beginning he himself contributed the translating of a small treatise on pronunciation, which served as an appendix to The honourable reputation but had a special title page1. Their common handbook was probably the ‘Grammatica Latina ac Britannica. 8[vo].’2 which the young Dousa had in his library together with copies of ‘The honourable reputation of a Souldier, Anglicè ac Belgicè’ and ‘Emblemata Galfridi Whitnei, cum iconibus, 4[to].’3.

But Walraven's major contribution was a literal translation of Whetstone's book, which he regarded as a profitable and delightful opportunity for exercise, for Dutchmen as much as for Englishmen:

Howe proude and presumptuous many Nations were, in to[o] muche observing theyr naturall tonge, is frendly Reader, not onknowne to those that walke throughe divers Landes. For in what straunge countrey they do not onely haunte, but dwelle also, yea twenty Jeres and more, they care not, but for theyr owne: as if it were a shame, to speake an others speache: desyring notwithstanding, that othermen shall serve and obeye them alwayes, in theyr language. Farre otherwyse with your, and also with our contremen. Which among all, of nature be most solicitous, to be skylled in all tongues. Of ours I am sure: of yours by experience taught, in Spaine, Fraunce, Oostlande, and in other places ... Wherefore I (althoughe a Scholer yet my self, and rude in this exercise) entangled with love of your tonge, was, of a zelous mynde, and favour to the Lovers of our tonge justly moved, to translate this small, but very fyne booke ...4

Walraven himself confessed that he was inspired by ‘the sweet seduction of enticing Muses, ante omnia dulces to me, in my occupations, and to J. Dousa’5. Indeed, De eerweerdighe achtbaerheyt van een soldener was not a mere schoolbook, but really the first fruit of a pen which had before in vain attempted to translate Theophrastus and Lipsius6. A dogged concern with vernacular renderings betrays the disciple of Van Hout.

As an English teaching manual which was not only in the Dutch language but also contained useful histories, Walraven dedicated the work to the magistrates of Hoorn on 30 August - sixteen days after Leicester had granted Basson the exclusive publishing rights. As far as the translator was concerned, The honourable reputation would have to justify his exceptionally long absence from Hoorn.

In this setting the prefatory matter of the Whetstone-Walraven production becomes a small mirror, as it were, of these Anglo-Leiden contacts. Apart from the translator's prefaces1 it contains six poems: three English, two Dutch, and only one Latin. Their quality varies considerably, from Basson's borrowed lines ‘To all freendly readers, uppon the translation of this present Booke’2 to Whetstone's original ‘To the right valiant gentlemen and souldiers, that are, or shalbe Armed under the Ensigne of Sainct George: In recompence of their worthie adventures, Heaven, and everlasting honor’.3 An old-fashioned and anonymous verse

in Dutch precedes these two poems. Of the remaining three the first came, of course, from the pen of Dousa the Elder, who supported Walraven's defensive dedication in an ‘On the time-thriftiness of I.W., now striving after the English also’. This long-forgotten poem is one of his very few surviving Dutch sonnets, and contains a neat argument on the translator's behalf in more or less these terms:

What misapprehensions possesses man's heart! Each finds the day too long, and pastimes seeks, with cards, or dice; backgammon for a third: one only plays at fives, another carouses. Then, when Dear Time, by each of them put off, finds nowhere room, is it strange that it should haunt you. Walraven, for comfort and resort? You, who for love nor money Time would praise? Who, unlike those, are no Time-killer but instead Time-keeper: who, tied to your book, find every day too short, yea use the night.
O Thriftiness of Time, o well-spent hours! Who, all-attempting, also try with zeal and care, for our use, to master English.1

Young Dousa followed his father in Latin with an eight-line epigram in praise of the art of translating generally, and next

of Walraven's ability to treat both his own language and the meaning of his original with equal skill. Last of all came Whitney, linking the two columns of the book with his ‘Uppon the translacion of this present Booke. To the Frendlye Readers of either of the Languages’. In it he praised

 
... Whetstone1 first, who did the work compile,
 
Walraven, next, that turn'd the same for you,
 
Whose paines (I knowe) was ioyn'd with care of minde:
 
Eche phrase to fitte, and worde for worde to finde.

He ended by inviting the reader to share his admiration, because

 
So shall you, bothe his paines, in parte requite:
 
And stirre him up, some greater worke to write.

The conclusion is worth bearing in mind; for it must be admitted that Walraven's effort, qualitatively, was but a minor contribution. He admirably reflected his literary antecedents, and his approach was enterprising enough. But one feels - with Whitney - that ‘some greater worke’ was yet and ought yet to be written.

 

Walraven's translation was only one symptom of a general Anglo-Leiden ‘integration’. The small University registered more English students in 1586 than in any of the eleven years since its foundation. Whitney, Wheteley, Wight, and Penrudoc were followed in the Volumen Inscriptionum, or just preceded, by various other ‘Angli’, i.e. men born in England: Tobias and Jeremias Lul(l)s, Jacobus Courtius, Zebedeus Damman, Nathanael Richardus, Johannes Marcowinus (only in the Album Recensionum), Joannes Evangelisto (‘scotus’), and also by George Gilpin.

The one-time Marnix-translator, old friend of Rogers, Dousa, Languet, Melissus, and others who have figured in our narrative, George Gilpin, former secretary of the Merchant Adventurers at Antwerp, had been appointed as the Queen's agent in Zeeland and then, on Leicester's arrival in the Netherlands, as English secretary to the Council of State. On 29 August 15862 he was entered as ‘D. Georgius

Gilpinus generosus Anglus’ in the Volumen, having discussed his admission with Saravia - in whose house, incidentally, Benedicti now lived1. Gilpin's registration was obviously no ordinary procedure. The magistrates knew, and within less than a fortnight granted him - like every other University member - exemption from the municipal taxation on wine in recognition of his great services ‘as secretary to Leicester’2. This was done at the request of the Earl himself and of Saravia, but his own initiative is also to be considered. Only when Gilpin himself addressed the local authorities did something of his Leiden interest transpire. Having desired, ever since his honourable appointment, to be near his wife and children, he wrote,

I considered the commodity and opportuneness of various towns where my arrival would be welcome, when my special love and inclination for the liberal arts urged me to think more especially of you. Serious employments of state leave me no time to spend in these studies; but for the benefit of my children (for whom I wish to provide such an education) I have arranged with the Rector Magnificus of your University so that I may yet be made a member of it. Meanwhile I have no thought of benefit or gain, except in this, that the occasion will put me in an even better position to offer assistance - for what I am worth - whenever there should be an opportunity to promote the dignitas of the Academy.3

The letter suggests that Gilpin had played his delicate part in the Leicester-Leiden controversies and had done so to the satisfaction of both parties. One would be tempted to think that Gilpin's removal to Leiden was as much inspired by a desire to live away from the Court as by his ‘in literas humaniores amor’. Perhaps the University had reason to thank this one man for its preservation.

Such may well have been the Burgomasters' idea when some weeks after Gilpin's request for full academic membership they recorded in the minutes of the council their resolution

to recognize Gilpin, English gentleman, secretary to his Excellency, as a member of the University, and so to grant him the use of academic privileges and liberties; therefore to order the town secretary [Van Hout] to sign his patent.1

Thus one English member of the old faction moved to Leiden, where he rented a house on the Oude Rijn:

This house is occupied by Mr. Gilpin, secretary to his Excellency, with his wife and family. Therefore remember to leave him out when billets are distributed.2

In these words another of Van Hout's billeting lists locates the cultured English gentleman who chose to reside near the University, ‘for the benefit of his children’.

 

More serious perhaps than crises from without were the internal commotions that now shook the University when Lipsius threatened to leave.

Officially his reason was bad health. But there is little doubt that non-Calvinistic convictions - a source of frequent criticism from outside - made living in Holland increasingly uncomfortable to so prominent a personality. Since no responsible man could ignore the disastrous consequences if Justus Lipsius should cease to lecture, every attempt had been made to placate him. In May, for instance, he had been given the attractive present of a spacious garden for his own private use and pleasure.3 But he would not stay, and tendered his resignation. This decision was unacceptable to the University and no one was prepared to let him depart. Finally he had to be content with a few months' sick-leave, and so he prepared to visit the spas.4

It has escaped notice that a few days before his intended resignation Lipsius had gone to Utrecht for no other reason than to see Sidney: ‘Illustris Domine,’ he wrote,

I had come to Utrecht only (in truth) to greet you. That you have escaped me by a few hours before my arrival, I bear although I regret it.
The war now keeps you occupied; but neither learning nor politics must be neglected. I fear - why should I not speak as freely as you have desired me to do in your presence? - I fear I say that some will relish this with too much fondness and affection. The slow minds of such men delight - I know not how - in being led by the slower way. A great number of men have recently been banished from Utrecht, for security's sake. I know, and do not condemn it. But what can I say when it happens haphazardly and one by one? What is the use of one group only? Buys is kept in close custody and not in accordance with his dignity. I declare privately to have been his friend (I am not one of those who change face and heart with fortune), yet I do not excuse him if he has sinned publicly. Have you forgotten my judgement of him? Boldly I then said against him what I deemed beneficial to the country: I may seem to speak in his favour, but to the same end. In zeal for my country or for my honour I yield to none. Time will show it. I declare myself unlike those whose tongue is prompt, vague, and often vain. What I do and feel, I do and feel seriously; nothing outwardly. But concerning Buys: if he was of no use to you, could he not have been removed simply and properly? ‘But he is guilty’. Then remember another method, send him out of the country. A dungeon without defence brings disrepute and slander, deservedly or no. Why start new currents when the old ones have not yet come to rest? To you I prophesy (and wish it were to prove untrue) that these rapid torrents are leading us to internal strife. If your rule had complete control, their faults would be less dangerous - obviously they do not see which places may be open in your stronghold. That you will have free and firm use of the reigns of government, that I approve of and do recommend; but only if it is done with moderation and with a certain ease. In so sick a body, will you cure everything in a few months? A diet is required.
I wish I had been able to say this and much more to you by word of mouth: but surely you will see my mind, which is pure and harmless - so help me God. I ask you on the honour of the Realm and your Queen, by the general welfare of us all (which cannot be seen seperately), temper with all that is in you the fervour of those who mistake zeal for love. They seek their own (not your) advantage who force you into these hazards.
Farewell, illustrious Lord who will ever be dear to me. I sincerely wish the Earl and Governor victory and success.
At Utrecht, 30 August 1586.
Your Lordship's devoted cliens,
Justus Lipsius.
[P.S.] While I have been here, kinsmen and friends of Buys have come to see me; they complain much about the close-
ness of his prison. They may not even see him. I pray you to consider and act accordingly.1

Lipsius' visit, in other words, served three purposes: to salute his patron, to admonish him gently, and then to speak out on behalf of Buys and others of the ‘old current’. Lipsius was a bold critic at the same time as an ‘addictissimus cliens’.

Sidney took the Professor's remarks in good part and wrote from Deventer to ‘Clarissimo viro Domino Justo lipsio Amico me charissimo’ - as the endorsement read - to calm the devoted friend who had unfortunately missed him in Utrecht. The letter is the only specimen of his correspondence with Lipsius, and shows (among other things) the affectionate and respectful nature of the relationship between the two men. ‘My dear Lipsius,’ Sidney wrote, ‘I regret to hear that you are leaving us’ - us indeed, for Lipsius would leave both Holland and its English leaders, both Leiden and the literary world, which Sidney had apparently heard after receiving the letter from Utrecht. ‘I am the more sorry,’ he continued,

because I fear that of all these things your disgust with the cause matters as much as your illness itself. If this is what it is (and if you do not yet despair of our England), I beseech you by our friendship that you will reconsider your departure to that other place.

One cannot ignore the fact that Lipsius' proposed ‘departure to that other place’ [Louvain?] came immediately after his unhappy experiences at Utrecht, and one must therefore assume, with Sidney, that disapproval of Leicester's new policy, more than anything else, had determined Lipsius' resolution. After the Saravia episode, this was the second

unfortunate Anglo-Leiden occurrence in recent weeks. Sidney's letter is therefore the more remarkable in continuing as follows:

The proposal which I made you some time ago I shall ensure in such a way that it will not prove deficient if I should come to die; I know that you would be very welcome to our Queen and to many others, yea to all others.

Hopefully awaiting his return, he added, he would continue to aid Buys ‘quia tu ita vis’. Meanwhile many problems remained, and ‘certe tuus Ph. Sidneius’ had little time for writing long letters.1

If only for its second paragraph, the letter deserves more attention than it has so far received. Obviously, the ‘proposal’ was an invitation to come to England, where the Queen would have extended a warm welcome to the celebrated Leiden ‘refugee’ who had, oddly enough, become a victim and critic of her own representatives’ policy in the Low Countries. There is no answer to the question whether Lipsius was to be offered a Chair in England, but it seems the most likely ‘proposal’. In that case yet another long-established Sidney-Leiden contact led to a remarkable climax in this eventful year.

 

In 1586 English poets had mixed with Dutch poets: some books had been produced as a result of it; the Leiden milieu had shown its accessibility to English students; finally, the renowned English poet-soldier invited the leading light of Leiden over to England. In this confusing stage of Anglo-Leiden relationships, for all the differences of opinion, literary achievements were evidently judged by other more liberal standards.

The ‘proposal’ was to be ratified, Sidney promised, to leave Lipsius provided for if his patron ‘should come to die’. It is as if Sidney felt a strange foreboding while he was writing this in the camp near Deventer on 14 September 1586.


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