In her Biography on Milton, Anna Beer shares an example of the “religious diversity and religion
an infant’s head, but many families (and ministers) refused this practice as an empty gesture of the Catholicism they’d come to demonize. Families and ministers at the other end wanted it done, some even with a sprinkling of oil to complete the baptism ceremony. The Church of England didn’t have resources to ensure conformity, so the practice of worship in England remained diverse (Loc. 197).
Milton’s grandfather was a staunch Roman Catholic who disowned Milton’s father— a scrivener and a musician—when he found him reading an English version of the Bible; which demonstrates how religious differences at this time could tear families apart. Milton would increasingly be against all organized forms of ceremonial worship, preferring a personal, private connection with the divine. Milton’s childhood was filled with study, as his father was
determined to give him a first-rate education, but Milton’s seemed to enjoy his late night study sessions (even if they were later responsible for his blindness. Events in his youth included the execution of national hero Sir Walter Raleigh and the beginning of the 30 years wars (both in 1618).
In 1620, Francis Bacon published Novum Organum which challenged all forms of received or “revealed” knowledge (sentiments Milton will later support). In 1625, Hugo Grotius published On the Law of War and Peace, which argued for the principles of a “natural law” to stem the unending violence of the 30 year war.
Fully convinced...that there is a common law among nations, which is valid alike for war and in war, I have had many and weighty reasons for undertaking to write upon the subject. Throughout the Christian world I observed a lack of restraint in relation to war, such as even barbarous races should be ashamed of; I observed that men rush to arms for slight causes, or no cause at all, and that when arms have once been taken up there is no longer any respect for law, divine or human; it is as if, in accordance
with a general decree, frenzy had openly been let loose for the committing of all crimes. (8)
Thus, while still in school, Milton would have gotten the impression that grand, important events were taking place, largescale destruction and violence, in which the “winners” were not always justified. In his early years, however, Milton was more concerned with local affairs.
2.4 5th November (1626)
At 17 years old, Milton wrote one of his first major Latin poems, In Quintum Novembris, in which a satanic figure appears for the first time. Although not identified explicitly as Lucifer or Satan, this shadowy figure is a “Master of deception, he does his best to poison the heart
untouched by sin. He sets his secret traps, and stretches hidden nets to catch the unwary.” He is a
“crafty serpent” who “floats through the liquid air on pitch-black wings,” and is drawn to England, because they resist his rule.
“I have wandered the whole world,” he says, “and here I have found the only cause for tears: these are the only people to rebel against me, scorn my rule, these alone have power greater than my arts. Yet if my efforts have any effect, not long shall they continue unpunished.”
He disguises himself in the form of St. Francis, and whispers the idea to blow up the Parliament in the Pope’s ear, using a Machiavellian appeal to guile and subterfuge.
But do not challenge him to war or open conflict: that would be wasted labor; a master of deceit uses guile. Against heretics no subterfuge is disallowed. And now their great king calls to parliament patricians from the remotest parts of their country, the high-born men and venerable fathers in gowns and white hair. These you may
scatter in the air, tear limb from limb, and burn to ashes if you ignite gunpowder under the foundations of the building in which they are assembled.
In the end, God saves England by thwarting the attempt (it is unclear exactly how). We see here the use of a more classical approach to Satan, as a monstrous tempter, who uses trickery and guile; and his association with the Church of Rome against Protestantism. David Hawkes points out that, “Even at this early stage, Milton’s portrayal of evil is nuanced and sophisticated,
demonstrating a learned knowledge of the various mythological traditions that have attempted to define it. For Milton, cosmic conflicts are replicated in psychology and also in politics” (60). The poem also contains a barb against the Catholic Mass: the Pope is carried around on a triumphal litter, “carrying with him his gods made of bread” (56). For Protestants, the bread was a sign of Christ, a memorial service, which the Catholics turned into an act of magical idolatry by claiming it to become the actual body of Christ.
Milton was also suspended from Cambridge in 1626 after an argument with his tutor William Chappell (who may have embarrassed him by using corporeal punishment). Students at this time shared a room with their tutors in a communal sleeping space, so there were lots of opportunities for conflict to brew. He spent an enjoyable “exile” at his father’s house, before returning to school under a new tutor.
Meanwhile, political tensions were rising. Prince Charles and Buckingham, King James’
“favorite” who had risen to power with little merit (besides good looks and dancing), went on an adventure into Spain that ended poorly; then Buckingham led a failed naval expedition against Spain; then he led another against France in defense of the Protestant Huguenots that also failed.
When King James died in 1626 and Charles took the throne, Buckingham remained a powerful influence. Charles convened Parliament to ask for more money to support his war on Spain, but
Parliament was skeptical of giving more money to Charles to support Buckingham’s poorly conceived military expeditions, and instead drew up a list of charges against Buckingham. They refused to vote on any tax issues until Buckingham was condemned and sentenced. Charles dissolved the Parliament to save Buckingham, and tried to raise money on his own through a Forced Loan program. Most of Charles’s subjects felt they had no choice but to pay, though some refused.
In 1628, Charles convened Parliament again, needing money for another war (in France this time), but Parliament immediately began discussing their grievances against Charles’s unpopular policies: the Forced Loan, taxation without consent, the imposition of martial law and imprisonment without trial were all challenged, along with Charles’s unpopular decisions in religion, which many feared would turn the Church of England into a version of Catholicism.
They presented Charles with a Petition of Right, which he resisted, but then signed in June, 1628.
When the conversation turned back to Buckingham and Charles’s unpopular religious adviser William Laud, Charles dissolved Parliament again.
Buckingham was assassinated soon after by a disgruntled (and unpaid) soldier whose appeals were being ignored. Hoping that Parliament would now co-operate with him, he recalled Parliament in 1629, however they immediately began discussing “the subtle and pernicious spreading of the Arminian faction” and complained of Charles’s continued taxes on imports and exports. Charles responded by dissolving Parliament and arresting the loudest dissenters. For the next eleven years, he reigned without Parliament, raising funds by making deals with monopolies and imposing unpopular taxes and levies (which, being made without Parliament’s consent, were seen as an invasion of rights).
Meanwhile, Milton graduated from Cambridge with an MA in 1632, and his poem ‘On Shakespeare’ was published in the second folio of Shakespeare’s plays in the same year. He’d gone to university thinking to enter the church, but had developed an animosity to the clergy; he felt that whoever joined must “subscribe slave, and take an oath withal, which, unless he with with him a conscience that could retch, he must straight perjure himself” (qtd. in Shears 57).
Instead, he focused on a career in writing.
2.5 Comus (1634)
Milton’s first major work was a play written for the Bridgewater family in 1634, A Mask
Presented at Ludlow Castle, to celebrate the Earl of Bridgewater’s new post as Lord President of Wales. The Earl’s brother-in-law, the Earl of Castlehaven, was executed for a sodomy and rape scandal involving his wife, daughter and servants, and the Bridgewater children had also been complaining of demonic possession. Either of these circumstances could have prompted the theme of the play, which was the temptation of evil and its resistance though reason.
According to Sands, children during this period where controlled and restricted even in terms of facial expressions, being forbidden to puff out their cheeks, yawn, bite or lick their lips, or frown. In light of this repressive context, possession could be regarded as a form of social protest that “legitimated normally unacceptable behavior” (88).
Common symptoms included body contortions, levitation, speaking in foreign tongues and voices, the ejection of foreign objects from the body such as hair, lace, feathers, pins and nails, repulsion at holy objects and words, and deprivation of the senses. (Bell 93)
The children were treated with magical pendants and St. John’s Wart (which is still used today for depression and anxiety). Belief in the reality of demonic possession was strengthened by elaborately staged public exorcisms, which, according to Bell, were used as a form of propaganda. Catholic exorcisms, for example, contained ritualistic ‘weapons’ to use against the possessing demons, including binding, flogging, burning, and fumigating, the use of holy potions, and the sign of the cross. Protestants, however, saw these practices as idolatrous, and their
dispossession rituals involved only prayer and fasting. As a result of these differing views of exorcism, “public displays of battles with Satanic forces became a showcase for rival strands of Christianity.” (Bell 94)
Though Milton’s Comus focuses on a Dionysian-like rogue who attempts to seduce a young lady, the focus is on the resistance of temptation through strength of will. However, while it can be seen as a debate between reason and passion, both sides use logical arguments to support their case. The real conflict is, whether to give up and give in, or stay strong and committed even in the face of superior logic.
Comus argues from a philosophical position that nothing in nature is evil, and that, just as nature gives of itself freely, so should she.
Beauty is nature's coyn, must not be hoorded, But must be current, and the good thereof Consists in mutual and partak’n bliss, Unsavoury in th’ injoyment of itself.
The Lady responds, “Thou canst not touch the freedom of my minde . . .false traitor, / Twill not restore the truth and honesty / That thou hast banish't from thy tongue with lies.” Even though Comus’s arguments seem rational, the Lady resists from strength of will.
I hate when vice can bolt her arguments, And vertue has no tongue to check her pride.
Comus decides that argument enough is not alone, so he resorts to a potion of some kind that will lower her defenses; but just then, her brothers rush in and save her. A goddess called Sabrina descends and ends the play with a call towards virtue.
Mortals that would follow me, Love vertue, she alone is free, She can teach ye how to clime Higher then the Spheary chime;
Or if Vertue feeble were,
Heav’n it self would stoop to her.
At this point, Milton is a strong advocator of moral chastity, and believes that true freedom is found in virtue (rational resistance to the body’s temptations). It is interesting to point out, however that Milton will later, after having more experience with the opposite sex, seem to favor Comus’s arguments, that there is no sin in “mutual and partak’n bliss.” The idyllic state of Adam and Eve’s sexuality in Paradise Lost uses language that is very similar to Comus’s speeches.
Many of his later arguments also steer towards, rather than the avoidance of temptation, the embrace of it; since without knowledge of evil, pure blind obedience to moral action is not in itself good. But on a simpler level, we can see in Comus an early version of the Devil tempting Eve.
In 1638, Milton published Lycidas, a pastoral elegy dedicated to a classmate who had drowned the year before. In it, he introduces the figure of St. Peter, who criticizes the priests of the Church of England as largely uneducated “grim wolves with privy paws.”
But, swoll’n with wind and the rank mist they draw, Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread.
In 1638, Milton departed on a tour of the continent, which included a visit to Galileo (in prison for his radical ideas—which Milton will comment on later). Milton returned to England after hearing news about a brewing civil war (the Scottish were refusing Charles’s forced episcopal system of church government, in favor of a Presbyterian system without bishops). On the way home, he spent a month in Venice, where he could see “the form of government he came to consider as the best for promoting human rights and liberty, an aristocratic republic, which Grotius had also praised” (Forsyth 64). Once back in England, he decided not to live at home, but found lodgings in London, then moved to a bigger house in Aldersgate. His sister had just died so his two nephews came to live with him as boarding pupils. He mapped out a unique plan of study for them. In his Commonplace book, he cites abuses of royal power, and makes a summary of Machiavelli on why a republic is preferable to a monarchy.
In 1639, Charles led English forces against Scottish forces, but soon caved and reached a settlement that allowed Scotland to decide certain matters for itself. In 1640, Charles summoned Parliament (known as the Short Parliament), bringing to an end his 11-year personal rule.
Charles wanted support to continue his war, but Parliament again wanted to address more
pressing issues. Charles dissolved Parliament and continued his war efforts on his own; however after retreating and letting Scottish forces take two English provinces, he was forced to convene another Parliament (known as the Long Parliament) to raise funds to pay the Scottish to leave.
The Parliament impeached Thomas Wentworth, the Earl of Stafford, who had been the King’s leading advisor in the Bishops’ War; declared the ship tax illegal; and impeached
shall not suffer in life, honour or fortune,” Parliament condemned him to death, and Charles signed the death warrant. Strafford was executed in May of 1641. This was seen as a sign that King Charles was finally amenable to reason, and would support the wishes of the people.
Trevor-Roper describes the mood of exhalation that followed.
At last the long struggle was over, the unbearable tension was suddenly released, and throughout England there was a new mood of exhilaration. . . The great bogyman, whose life was a standing threat to liberty, religion, Parliament, had been destroyed;
the nightmare of the past had been dissolved; and from now on, it seemed, the great task of reformation was easy, almost automatic. . . these were the months of Milton’s great pamphlets, those marvellous works, so buoyant, so intoxicated, so rich in imagery, in which he saw England as a young man glorying in his strength, waking and shaking off his past torpor and bondage, and himself, its poet, singing, among
“the hymns and hallelujahs of the saints,” “the jubilee and resurrection of the state.”
(Loc 4093-4096).
In 1641, buoyed by the enthusiasm of the times, Milton leapt into the pamphlet wars, with Of Reformation of Church-Discipline in England. William Laud had been arrested at the same time as Wentworth, and with his absence there was room for a discussion about the form the Church of England would take. Milton urged his country-men to sweep away the last relics of papacy and prelacy, and argued against a centralized church government that demanded visible rules of religious practice. He imagines bishops as “a huge and monstrous Wen” or “a swolne Tumor” in the head. He addresses them as “a bottle of vitious and harden’d excrements,” as all men will see,
“when I have cut thee off, and open’d thee.” He compared the hirelings to wolves, like he had in Lycidas. As for the bishops, “those vassals of perdition,” Milton believed they should be
executed. In June 1641, the “root and branch” bill abolished the bishops and everything that
went with them. Milton wrote several more pamphlets, claiming that “all men have ever since Adam, being borne free, should have the power to retain or remove episcopacy, concusing with our own occasions, and conveniences” (qtd. Forsyth 71).
Parliament and the King continued to grow apart. On November 22nd, Parliament passed The Grand Remonstrance, listing grievances about acts carried out by the king’s government, in Church and State, since the beginning of Charles’s reign. It was presented to Charles on
December 1st, 1641. Unwilling to back down from his claim of absolute rule, in January 1642 Charles charged five of the most outspoken leaders of his opposition with treason. When he interrupted Commons accompanied by soldiers, there were riots in London and the king and his family fled the city. Charles raised support in the North and West, and in August, unfurled the royal standard in front of the forces he’d gathered, effectively starting a civil war against the forces of Parliament.
Milton, meanwhile, was getting married. He’d gone to Oxford to visit a man called Richard Powell, who since 1627 had been paying interest on a loan from Milton’s father. Powell had been falling behind and was in danger of losing his estate; Milton agreed to wed Richard’s eldest daughter, Mary Powell. They moved in together back in London, but within two months, Mary left him and returned home; he didn’t see her again for three years.