CAMBRIDGE SCHOLAR'S CORRUPTION

THE ART OF ENGLISH POESIE,

Lord Oxford and The Corruption of
The Cambridge University Elizabethan Scholars

© E.L. Miller, 1999/2015

While Rollins was getting out his “take” in his critical editions of Paradyce of Dainty Devises (PDD), A Poetical Rhapsody (APR), and England’s Helicon, (EH) and Bond was turning out his grist on Lyly, and the Cambridge editors continued to peddle known false information in their recounting of the APR, other Cambridge editors, we see, were busy for the “cause.” It was time, 1936, that The Arte of English Poesie, should be republished and emblazoned with the name of an author, “By GEORGE PUTTENHAM.” AEP, of course, was printed without any author’s name on the book.

Indeed, the printer tells the reader how it, like an orphan, or Topsy Turvy,  it just “appeared” one day at his door step—a story believed, apparently, by none of the critics. Cambridge University Press, in 1936, featured a new edition of AEP, the work of two women editors enlisted for the cause, namely, Glady D. Willcock and Alice Walker. In their edition of AEP, Willcock and Walker, offer such an amazingly specious “brief” for Puttenham’s authorship of AEP that one can scarcely believe that they were not but paid attorney’s for a cause without merit—so tortured is their logic, so lacking integrity is the very language of their argument, and so decrepit and unwholesome the frayed tatters of their “evidence.”

We have repeatedly pointed, in numerous articles, and commentaries, that Lord Oxford was the author of AEP, and have proffered abundant evidence of the fact, not the least of which is our most recent analysis of the use of the poetic devise of  anaphora – the use of repetitive words or phrases. We now point out below, that, it is not by accident that the biography of “Shakespeare” is shrouded in mystery—it has to be kept secret! As we shall see, the entire Cambridge coterie of Elizabethan “scholars” gave their imprimatur to, what is for a “high” scholar a criminal activity. Corruption.   

The good faith of the good Cambridge editors is at question in the first paragraph of their section of The Authorship:

The Arte of English Poesie appeared anonymously, accompanied by a dedication in which Richard Field, its printer, professed ignorance of its authorship. It is quite clear, however, from the alterations made while the work was in the press, that it was published with its author’s cooperation and that its anonymity reflected the feeling that a gentleman should be ‘dayntie of his doings’ and not advertise his name in print. In the book itself no attempt is made to conceal its writer’s identity. On the contrary, it is one of the most intimate works of its age and, from its autobiographical clues and numerous references to his earlier works, many contemporaries must have guessed its author without difficulty.

We would first note that it is amazing that the editors are apparently both clairvoyant, because it is clear to them that, the printer lied when he said he did not know the author. The lie is presumably proved by the fact that “alterations” were made in process of the book being published which have survived and which prove their point. But, most original Elizabethan editions had alternations made during the process of being printed. It is a fact well known and often observed by Elizabethan scholars and it proves nothing whatsoever, as to who authorized the changes.

Another thing immediately clear, in the second sentence, is the fact that the editors claim to know that the author not only gave his “cooperation” but the editors were also able to know how our anonymous author felt about the matter—that a gentleman should be dainty of his doings and not advertise himself in print. This is an interesting piece of clairvoyance, as the author himself, repeatedly states in the AEP that a poet, a maker (and certainly much less an historian, a commentator), should not hide their identities and their names from being known for the reasons averred by the editors. Indeed, the author of AEP takes up this very issue in the first part of the first book and states,

 "let none other meaner person despise learning, nor (whether it be in prose or in Poesie, if they themselves be able to write, or have written anything well of rare invention) be any whit squeamish to let it be publisht under their names, for reason serves it, and modestie doth not repugne.” (p.18) 

 The explicit avowed attitude of the author himself belies the good editor’s clairvoyant construction on imagined and fanciful states of mind of the author. 

 The editors go on to turn truth on its head by stating that “no attempt is made to conceal the identity of the author” in the book itself. What an interesting comment: how is it, then, that the editors themselves proclaim that “So far, efforts to identify the author of the Arte have proved inconclusive.” One would think that some attempts were made to conceal his identity or we would certainly know with certainty who he was. If we knew who the author was his identity, obviously, would not be “inconclusive.” And, of course, the good editors cannot know if the author purposefully attempted to conceal his identity or if he did so only by “accident.”

 Cambridge Scholars Compound Their Corruption

 The Cambridge editors compound their fraudulent claim that the author made no effort at all to conceal his identity by adding another remark calculated to mislead. “On the contrary,” the Cambridge editors assert, “it is one of the most intimate works of its age and, from its autobiographical clues and numerous references to his earlier works, many contemporaries must have guessed its author without difficulty.”

 It is most interesting that this work, AEP, is asserted to be “one of the most intimate works of its age,” replete with numerous autobiographical “clues” and yet, as the editors themselves acknowledge all “efforts to identify the author of the Arte have proved inconclusive.” Actually the editor’s entire sentence is bogus for it is not truly a contrary statement (“On the contrary…”) at all that is being made in the first place. This is to say, it was bogus of the editor’s to state that the author made no effort to conceal himself and then to follow the statement with another pretending to address or qualify the first statement. Simply, the statement that not only did the author not try to conceal his identity but “contrarily” the book was one of the most “intimate works of the age” as though the so-called “intimacy” of the book had anything at all to do with the subject of the facts at hand, i.e., the identity of the author.

 Some of the most intimate books of any age have concealed the identities of its authors. The Cambridge editors must have believed that none of their readers knew the facts of the matter—that, for example, the only surviving work by the author, repeatedly quoted from in the Arte, was also published anonymously and in which its author states on its opening page that he wishes to conceal his identity. This certainly establishes that at least, at some time, our author decidedly did try to conceal his identity—the opposite of that claimed by the editors.

 After completing the first paragraph, as quoted above, the Cambridge editors continued with what presents itself as a discussion of the evidence of the matter. Characteristically, the piece merely continues with its illogical contrivances,

 "The two early references to the authorship of the Arte which have come to light agree in attributing it to ‘Puttenham.’ Two years after its publication Harington (though he respected in print its author’s anonymity by describing him as an ‘unknowne’), in a private note to Field, referred to what is undoubtedly the Arte as ‘Puttenhams book.’ About twenty-five years later Bolton, in his Hypercritica, described it as the work ‘as the fame is’ of one of Elizabeth’s Gentlemen Pensions, ‘Puttenham.’ Another . . ."

 It is at this point that the Cambridge editors show themselves to be either corrupt or incompetent and it really is difficult to believe that so many Elizabethan luminaries at Cambridge could be so desperately ignorant. The very first reference, in fact, to Harington acknowledgement that “Puttenham” was the author of AEP is a forgery, a fact that must have been known to the Cambridge editors—though they conceal the fact from the reader. We will return to this point.   

The first piece of evidence the Cambridge editors offer for their claim that Puttenham was the author of Arte, is allegedly that of Harington, who is, in fact, Sir John Harington, a translator of Orlando Furioso (1591, i.e., “two years after” publication of Arte).  The Cambridge editors state (as above) that it was two years after publication of Arte that Harington “respected in print its author’s anonymity by describing him as ‘unknown.’” The statement is only partially true and what it fails to tell is the whole crux of the issue. The statement is clearly meant to give the impression that Harington actually knew who the ‘unknowne’ was, but “respected his anonymity.” We can be sure this is what the editors were implying because in the very next sentence they state that “in a private note to Field, [he] referred to what is undoubtedly the Arte as ‘Puttenhams book.’ 

What the editors fail to tell the reader is that the “unknowne” author of Arte was named Ignoto, and identified as “Ignoto” in Harington’s book. He was never called the “unknowne” by Harington, but rather he was identified also as the “unknowne God-father.” A God-father is a “sponsor” for someone at baptism or confirmation. This writer has never heard an author of a book described as its “God-father,” or its “sponsor.” Thus, we find in the dedication to Venus & Adonis the dedicatee referred to as the “godfather” of the book (“But if the first heir of my invention prove deformed, I shall be sorry it had so noble a godfather,”)—so, we probably do not go too far astray to see in these words an indication that the author was known to be a powerful and influential poet of his times. Yet, as we shall see (below) that he was never known as such, apparently by anyone.  

Ignoto & Loves Labours Lost

 Yet, we might with profit consider the possibility that Harington used the term in a specific sense, obviously, more than as an “author” but a  main “sponsor” of English Poetry, per se. Is it possible that Harington’s use of the term “godfather” was used as an allusion to Loves Labours Lost for in that work we find the statement:

“These earthly godfathers of heaven’s lights

And every godfather can give a name…”

Of course, this is a perfect allusion as anyone who has read the Arte will know that one of its main features is that it gives scores of new names to poetic techniques and devises. This, then, may provide us with an important clue: our author, the “unknowne Grandfather,” IGNOTO, was the “sponsor” of the new art of English poetry, who gave many technical names (as grandfathers give the names to the new-born at confirmation) to English poetry. Again, if Harington was referring to LLL with his allusion, it could hardly have been more appropriate, in every regard. Interestingly, the relevant passage in Loves Labours Lost occurs where books and the subject of study are being discussed.

Study is like the heavens glorious Sunne,

That will not be deepe search’d with sawcy lookes:
Small have continuall plodders ever wonne,
Save base authoritie from others bookes.
These earthly Godfathers of heavens lights,
That give a name to every fixed Starre,
Have no more profit of their shinning lights,
Than those that walke and wot not what they are.
Too much to know, is to know nought but fame:
And every Godfather can give a name.

We must note here that Sir Harington is clearly not of Ignoto’s camp and clearly associates himself with Sir Philip Sidney (then deceased, d. 1586). After recalling the importance of the “huge Theatre and Amphitheaters, monuments of stupendous charge, made only for Tragedies and Comedies, the workes of Poets, to be represented on” to show how importantly poetry was considered,  Harington tells us, however, that “subtle distinctions” regarding detailed issues of poetry are of no value to him. He next refers to the “Grandfather” as the one who “christened” in English, the poet, a “Maker.” In other words, it was Ignoto who gave the name “Maker” (as Godfathers do) to the name of “Poet.”

 Harington tells us he will refer all issues of such subtleties to Sidney, not Ignoto, where “a whole receit of Poetrie is prescribed, with so manie new named figures as would put me in a great hope in this age to come would breed many excellent Poets—save for one observation that I gather out of the very book.”  Harington ends by stating that Ignoto proves nothing with all his examples [of poetic devises] and finds himself with Sidney in believing that poetry is a gift not a science. In other words, as we interpret it, an activity apparently requiring no “study,” as poetry was a gift.

Sir Harington, who is obviously, of a rival school to “Ignoto’s” continues:

"Neither do I suppose it to be greatly behooful for this purpose to trouble you with the curious definitions of a Poet and Poesie, & with the subtill distinctions of their sundrie kinds; nor to dispute how high and supernatural the name of a Maker is, so christened in English by that unknown God-father that this last yeare save one, viz, 1589, set forth a booke called the Art of English Poetrie"

Sir Harington then goes on to tell us that he does not propose to spend a lot of time arguing such things as whether a translator of verse can be said to be a “poet” or only a “versifyer” as The Unknown “God-father” of poetry would have it, and as set forth in his book, The Art of English Poesie. Harington continues:

 ". . .or wheather Plato, Zenophon, and Erasmus writing fictions and Dialogues in prose may justly be called Poets, or whether Lucan writing a story in verse an an historiographer, or whether Master Faire translating Virgil, Master Golding translating Ovid’s Metamorphosis, and my selfe in this worke that you see, be any more than versifiers, as the same Ignoto termeth all translators: for as for all, or the most part of such questions, I will refer you to sir Philip Sidney Apologie, who doth handle them right learnedly, or to the aforenamed treasties [i.e., The Art of English Poesie, by Ignoto] where they are discoursed more largely, and where, as it were, a whole receit of Poetrie is prescribed, with so manie new named figures as would put me in a great hope in this age to come would breed manie excellent Poets–save for one observation that I gather out of the verie same book."

 The reader will note that all the names of authors are in italic, clearly indicating that Sir Harington is specifically indicating a person with the name “Ignoto” as the author of AEP! 

 Is Ignoto A Cunning Poet?

 A careful analysis of Sir Harington’s words, apparently never before attempted, shows that he has some animosity for Ignoto, which he rather openly expresses. And, in context one cannot doubt that he himself was merely a “versifyer” and was stung by Ignoto’s idea that a versifyer was not a true poet—a point sounded in the first part of the first book, and again later. Sir Harington continues by telling the reader that he doesn’t think Ignoto is much of a poet himself, and has, in fact, a “slender” talent. But, in the same paragraph, he appears to admit that Ignoto is a highly skilled and “cunning poet” who apparently has already amassed many followers. :

For though the poore gentleman laboreth greatly to prove, or rather to make Poetrie an art, and reciteth as you may see, in the plurall number, some pluralities of patterns and parcels of his own Poetrie, with diverse pieces of Partheniads and hymnes in praise of the most praiseworthy, yet whatsoever he would prove by all these, sure in my poore opinion he doth prove nothing more plainly than that which M. Sidney and all the learneder sort that have written of it do pronounce, namely that it is a gift and not an art. I say he proveth it, because making himself and manie others so cunning in the art, yet he sheweth himself so slender a gift in it ...

 Now, how does Harington know that Ignoto made himself “and manie others so cunning in the art,” as he observes?

 Recall that Arte had just come out in May of 1589, so there would be little time for a novice poet on the scene, it would seem, to make himself and so many others “cunning in the art.” Of course, if Harington really did not know who Ignoto really was, he was only basing his literary opinion on the fragments contained in the Arte. Harington shows no awareness of any other writings of Ignoto than those contained in the Arte—unless the mentioned allusion to LLL applies.

 Above, I produced a quotation from the Cambridge editors where it is stated, right after the first paragraph, that “The two early references to the authorship of the Arte which have come to light agree in attributing it to ‘Puttenham.”  And they refer to a private note to Field “referring to what is undoubtedly the Arte as ‘Puthams book.” What is “undoubted” to the editors is not so to a normal mind. “Putham” might be “Puttenham,” but there is certainly no undoubtedly to it. But, even more importantly, to the subject at hand, is the credibility of the editors.

 There is a footnote to the above quoted remarks from the editors: “For a detailed account of early notices concerning the authorship of the Arte v. Capt. B.M. Ward’s article, “The authorship of the Arte of English Poesie: A suggestion,” etc. But, consulting Ward’s article, we discover that the “evidence” cited by the editors is specious and the “inserted note” was a fraud! What was reportedly a contemporaneous note by the editors, is, in fact, an insertion silently slipped into the text some 25 years later, and the original MS (where the original note was supposed to exist with the name of “Puttenham” or “Putnam”) did not contain the alleged name. Hence, we have not only proof that the proof was bogus but evidence of a crime to tamper with the original evidence and to insert into the record false information.

 So, the first piece of “evidence” is impeached. What is the second piece of evidence. “About twenty-five years later, Bolton, in his Hypercritica, described it [Arte] as the work “as the fame is” of one of Elizabeth’s Gentlemen Pensioners, “Puttenham.” Nothing more is given by the editors so that one might well assume the state was, “as the fame is, Puttenham” were the only words in the entry. If there were more surely the editors would have provided it if there was anything pertinent—afterall they are trying to make a “case” for their theory and the ice is pretty thin. What an odd statement “as the fame is.” What could it possibly mean?

 The Cambridge editors don’t pause a moment on this enigmatic statement. It would seem impossible to make any sense out of it. One obvious, interpretation of the meaning might be, “as reputed, Puttenham.” The statement itself would seem to generate doubt as to the matter. If he was the known author, as a fact, why say as “as the fame is” rather than “written by Puttenham.” It would seem the writer of the note wanted to alert the reader that he was not saying it was by Puttenham, only that he was famed or reported to be its author.

 Above I have quoted from LLL for the use of meaning of “grandfather” in the above discussed context. An important point to be made here is derived from Furness, one of the most brilliant variorum writers exactly at the same spot in the play, LLL, quoting Kenrick (p. 74)

“Fame” means here nothing more than report, rumor, or relation. . . The knowledge acquired from books is, for the most part, founded on the authority of the writer, and what is thus known is known only by report or relation. So that those whose whole stock of knowledge consist in what they have read may with great propriety be said to know nothing what is told them; that is, to be entirely ignorant of facts, and to know nothing but fame.”

 

Incidentally, we do not wish to forget to mention here that Bolton while apparently  quick to notice the reader that it is not himself who claims what the facts are, but only that what is reputed to be the case, was justly cautious (if our interpretation is right). Bolton also stated, according to the Cambridge editors that “as fame is, one of Elizabeth’s Gentlemen Pensioners, ‘Puttenham.’”  Ward, cited above, had a check made of all existing records. Puttenham was never a Gentleman Pensioner of Queen Elizabeth, and appears to have spent a great deal of his life in prison. And, if Ward is correct, as we think he is, Puttenham was in prison, for example, when he supposedly wrote and presented to the Queen one of the poems featured by the author of Arte as his own on January 1, 1579.

 The fact is, so far, there is no evidence at all that Puttenham was the author of Arte. An example, nonetheless, of the really despicable corruption of the Cambridge editors is found in statements like this: “Lastly, contemporary evidence for “Puttenham’s authorship cannot be dismissed lightly, for references to it, though few, are unanimous and appear to rest on independent authority.” When the reader considers we have, above, produced all of the evidence dealt with by the Cambridge editors we are amazed at their brazen mendacity.

 The references are “unanimous” and “independent” is about as much as a bald-faced lie as most students of literature are likely to find, anywhere! The Cambridge editors talk out of both sides of their mouths. They acknowledge that “efforts to identify the author of the Arte have proved inconclusive,” on one hand, and on the other we are informed that

“On the biographical evidence it can be shown that it is possible that George Puttenham wrote the Arte; on the literary evidence possibility becomes probability and approaches certainty.”

 And after this statement the Cambridge editors continue with the most fantastical tautological arguments and routinely claim facts not of record and then state that, “An examination of the non-biographical evidence provided by Partheniades, the Arte and the Justification offers convincing proof of common authorship.” Of course, as one might fully expect, there is no proof offered whatsoever for the claim, expect a total of three statements—one in a letter, one in Justification and one in Partheniades. The first statement (the so-called literary evidence) is from a letter to Sir John Throckmorton:

 

 "I have resolved with myself to employ my tyme in Studyes and with conferens with the greatest lerned men I can fynde. Soilitary Studyes awaylynge nothynge, and this cannot I do at yowr howse.”

 

Anyone who has read the Arte will have some difficulty, I warrant, in thinking that this letter had in anyway anything to do with the author of Arte who specifically announced himself rather proudly to be an “autodidact” (a self-taught—a term of abuse among Harvey, Spenser, and other literati of the day. See Harvey’s letters).  Nor, I dare say, would any informed person would think the author of the Partheniades or the Arte would be of that mind—as he is, in fact, creating a new school of poetry himself. Hardly a person to say that solitary studies avail nothing!

 

finis