(e) Gawain Douglas (1474–1522) was a member of the famous Douglas family, his father being the fifth Earl of Angus, Archibald “Bell the Cat.” He studied at St. Andrews University (1489) and probably at Paris, became a priest, and rose to be Bishop of Dunkeld. He took a great share in the high politics of those dangerous times, and in the end lost his bishopric, was expelled to England, and died in London.
His four works belong to the period 1501–13: The Palice of Honour, of elaborate and careful workmanship, and typical of the fifteenth-century manner; King Hart, a laboriously allegorical treatment of life, the Hart being the heart of life, which is attended by the five senses and other personifications of abstractions; Conscience, a short poem, a mere quibble on the word “conscience,” of no great poetical merit; and the Æneid, his most considerable effort, a careful translation of Virgil, with some incongruous touches, but done with competence and some poetical ability. It is the earliest of its kind, and so is worthy of some consideration. Douglas is the most scholarly and painstaking of his group; but he lacks the native vigor of his fellows. His style is often overloaded and listless, and in the selection of theme he shows little originality.
2. John Skelton (1460–1529) comes late in this period, but he is perhaps the most considerable of the poets. His place of birth is disputed; he may have studied at Oxford, and he probably graduated at Cambridge. He took orders (1498), entered the household of the Countess of Richmond, the mother of Henry VII, and became a tutor to Prince Henry. In 1500 he obtained the living of Diss in Norfolk, but his sharp tongue ruined him as a rector. He fell foul of Wolsey, and is said to have escaped imprisonment by seeking sanctuary in Westminster Abbey, where he died in 1529.
In his Garlande of Laurell Skelton gives a list of his own works, most of which have perished. This poem itself is a dreary effort, stilted in style and diffuse in treatment. It is in satire that Skelton appears at his best. His satirical poems, in spite of their shuffling and scrambling meters, are usually sharp, often witty, and nearly always alive. Why come ye not to Court? is addressed to Wolsey, and for jeering impertinence it is hard to find its equal, at that time at least; The Tunnynge of Elynore Runnynge is realism indeed, for it faithfully portrays the drunken orgies of a pack of women in an ale-house. His more serious poems include a Dirge on Edward IV, The Bowge of Court, and a quite excellent morality-play, Magnificence.
We quote an example of Skelton’s peculiar meter, which came to be called “Skeltonics.” It is a species of jingling octosyllabic couplet, but crumbling and unstable, often descending to doggerel. It is, however, lively, witty in a shallow fashion, and attractive. His own description of it is quite just:
For though my rhyme be ragged,
Tattered and jagged,
Rudely rayne beaten,
Rusty and moughte eaten,
It hath in it some pyth.