Historical Context and Artistic Strategy in the Opening and Conclusion of Dryden's 'Absalom and Achitophel'

 

Historical Context and Artistic Strategy in the Opening and Conclusion of Dryden's Absalom and Achitophel

Academic Details

• Name: Sagar Chavda

• Roll No.: 26

• Enrollment No.: 5108250008

• Sem.: 01

• Batch: 2025-2027

• E mail: sagarchavda.v@gmail.com

Assignment Details

• Paper Name: Literature of the Elizabethan and Restoration Period

• Paper No.: 101

• Topic: Historical Context and Artistic Strategy in the Opening and Conclusion of Dryden's Absalom and Achitophel

• Submitted To: Smt. S.B. Gardi, Department of English, 

Maharaja Krishnakumarsinhji Bhavnagar University

• Submitted Date: November 10, 2025

• Words : 2449

• Characters : 16893

This blog is written to digitally present and document my semester-end assignments.

Table Of Content

Research Question

Hypothesis

Abstract

Introduction

The Ironic Opening: Navigating Royal Flaws

The Declarative Conclusion: Asserting Royal Authority

Conclusion

Work Cited

Research Question

How do the distinct artistic strategies employed in the opening and concluding sections of Dryden's Absalom and Achitophel reflect and respond to the specific political exigencies faced by Charles II during the Exclusion Crisis of 1681?

Hypothesis

Dryden employs complex irony in the opening of Absalom and Achitophel to navigate Charles II's personal flaws and subtly undermine Monmouth's legitimacy, while adopting a direct, authoritative, and propagandistic tone in the conclusion to assert royal power and justify the prosecution of Whig leaders, thereby serving distinct yet complementary political objectives.

Abstract

John Dryden's Absalom and Achitophel stands as a seminal work of political satire, deeply embedded in the Exclusion Crisis of 1681. This paper examines the distinct artistic strategies employed in the poem's opening and concluding sections, arguing that these framing passages are meticulously crafted responses to specific, evolving political exigencies faced by Charles II. Drawing upon the critical analyses of Godfrey Davies regarding the conclusion's propagandistic function and its likely source in the King's Declaration (Davies), and A. E. Dyson and Julian Lovelock concerning the ironic complexities of the opening (Dyson and Lovelock), this study explores how Dryden navigates the delicate portrayal of royal authority and popular dissent. The opening utilizes complex irony and biblical analogy to address Charles II's known promiscuities while undermining the legitimacy of Monmouth's claim (Dyson and Lovelock). Conversely, the conclusion adopts a more direct, assertive tone, echoing official royal propaganda to justify the King's actions and rally support against the Whig faction on the eve of Shaftesbury's trial (Davies). By analyzing these sections in light of their immediate historical context and Dryden's rhetorical aims, the paper demonstrates the poem's sophisticated blend of artistry and polemic, revealing how its beginning and end serve distinct but complementary functions in bolstering the precarious Stuart monarchy.

Introduction

John Dryden’s Absalom and Achitophel (1681) remains one of the most powerful and enduring political satires in English literature, a masterful intervention in the tumultuous events surrounding the Exclusion Crisis. Written at a moment of profound national division, the poem employs a potent biblical allegory to defend the Stuart monarchy against the perceived threat posed by the Whig faction, led by the Earl of Shaftesbury (Achitophel), who sought to exclude the Catholic James, Duke of York, from the succession in favor of Charles II’s illegitimate Protestant son, the Duke of Monmouth (Absalom) (Dyson and Lovelock). While the poem’s scathing character portraits, particularly that of Achitophel, are justly famous, the strategic artistry of its framing sections—the opening depiction of David's (Charles II's) reign and the concluding speech asserting royal authority—deserves close scrutiny. These sections are not mere exposition and resolution; they are carefully calibrated rhetorical maneuvers designed to address specific political challenges and shape public opinion at critical junctures (Davies; Dyson and Lovelock). This paper argues that Dryden employs markedly different artistic strategies in the opening and conclusion of Absalom and Achitophel, reflecting the shifting political imperatives of 1681. The ironic, nuanced tone of the opening serves to navigate the delicate issue of Charles II's character flaws while establishing the poem's allegorical framework and undermining Monmouth's claim (Dyson and Lovelock). In contrast, the conclusion adopts a direct, authoritative voice, closely echoing official royal propaganda, specifically the King's Declaration of April 1681, to justify the dissolution of Parliament, assert the rule of law against factionalism, and prepare the ground for the prosecution of Whig leaders, particularly Shaftesbury (Davies). Examining these sections through the critical lenses provided by A. E. Dyson and Julian Lovelock, who analyze the opening's complex irony (Dyson and Lovelock), and Godfrey Davies, who meticulously contextualizes the conclusion's political function and likely source (Davies), reveals Dryden's sophisticated adaptation of poetic form to serve immediate polemical ends. The poem's beginning and end, while stylistically distinct, work in tandem to construct a powerful, albeit partisan, narrative of legitimacy, rebellion, and restored order tailored to the anxieties and allegiances of its time.

The Ironic Opening: Navigating Royal Flaws

The opening lines of Absalom and Achitophel (Dryden lines 1-84) immediately immerse the reader in a complex rhetorical situation, employing a tone of genial irony to address the politically sensitive matter of Charles II's well known promiscuity while simultaneously establishing the biblical allegory and undermining the legitimacy of the Duke of Monmouth (Dyson and Lovelock). As Dyson and Lovelock explore, Dryden navigates a "thin ice" scenario, needing to acknowledge the King's flaws without alienating him or fatally weakening the poem's royalist stance (Dyson and Lovelock). The initial invocation of

In pious times, ere priest craft did begin,

Before polygamy was made a sin

ostensibly celebrates a pre lapsarian freedom associated with nature and divine favor, seemingly excusing David's/Charles's behavior (Dyson and Lovelock). However, as Dyson and Lovelock argue, this celebration is immediately undercut by loaded terms like "promiscuous use" and the suggestion that "Nature" itself might be "unfeeling and animal" (Dyson and Lovelock). The praise for David's "vigorous warmth" imparted "variously / To wives and slaves" and his scattering "his Maker's image through the land" teeters on the edge of mockery, the biblical parallel highlighting rather than excusing the monarch's excesses (Dyson and Lovelock; Dryden).

Dryden's primary political objective in this opening section, as Dyson and Lovelock identify, is to establish Monmouth's illegitimacy unequivocally (Dyson and Lovelock). This is achieved through the stark declaration:

But since like slaves his bed they did ascend,

No true succession could their seed attend

This couplet, resolving the preceding ambiguities, firmly grounds the poem's argument in the principle of legitimate succession, regardless of the King's personal conduct (Dyson and Lovelock). The subsequent praise of Absalom/Monmouth as "So beautiful, so brave" is similarly double edged (Dryden). The suggestion that he was conceived with "diviner lust" or a "greater gust" ironically links his attractive qualities back to the questionable 'natural' freedom initially invoked (Dyson and Lovelock; Dryden). His description culminates in hyperbolic terms – "Paradise was open'd in his face" (Dryden) – which, Dyson and Lovelock note, subtly parodies Whig propaganda and foreshadows Achitophel's later temptation, likening Absalom to a flawed Adam or Eve figure easily "Made drunk with honour, and debauch'd with praise" (Dyson and Lovelock; Dryden).

Dryden further complicates the portrayal of David/Charles by showing his "indulgent" view of his son's faults, suggesting a blindness ("His father could not, or he would not see") that borders on culpability (Dyson and Lovelock; Dryden). The reference to "Amnon's murther" (an allusion to a violent attack instigated by Monmouth) being excused as "just revenge" further darkens the picture, implying that the court's indulgence allows vice to flourish under "specious Name[s]" (Dyson and Lovelock; Dryden). Yet, Dryden quickly pivots from this critique of the court to an attack on "The Jews" (the English people), characterized as a "Headstrong, Moody, Murm'ring race" prone to rebellion and ingratitude (Dyson and Lovelock; Dryden). This shift strategically redirects blame, portraying the people's desire for "libertie" as a foolish dream born of being "too fortunately free" and linking their discontent to the historical instability leading to the Civil Wars ("They Curst the memory of Civil Wars") (Dyson and Lovelock; Dryden). The opening thus masterfully uses ironic ambiguity and strategic shifts in focus. It acknowledges Charles's flaws through the Davidic parallel but contains the critique, firmly establishes Monmouth's illegitimacy, subtly discredits Absalom through excessive praise, and ultimately frames the political conflict as stemming from the inherent fickleness and rebellious nature of the populace, thereby preparing the ground for Achitophel's machinations and justifying the assertion of royal authority that will follow (Dyson and Lovelock).

The Declarative Conclusion: Asserting Royal Authority

If the opening of Absalom and Achitophel employs nuanced irony to navigate sensitive personal and political terrain, the conclusion (Dryden lines 939-1025) adopts a markedly different strategy: a direct, authoritative, and almost prophetic assertion of royal power, closely aligned with official propaganda (Davies). As Godfrey Davies meticulously argues, this concluding speech, delivered by David/Charles II, functions as a powerful piece of political rhetoric tailored to the specific circumstances of late 1681, particularly the Crown's decision to prosecute Whig leaders like Shaftesbury and Stephen College for treason (Davies). Davies posits convincingly that the speech's content and tone derive not, as later anecdote suggested, from Charles's brief Oxford parliamentary address, but from the far more influential His Majesties Declaration issued on April 8th, 1681, justifying the dissolution of the last two Parliaments (Davies). This Declaration, widely circulated and read in churches, had successfully rallied Tory support by framing the Whigs as arbitrary and revolutionary, echoing the dangers of the recent Civil War, while portraying the King as the defender of established law and order (Davies). Dryden's conclusion harnesses the proven success of this official narrative (Davies).

The speech Dryden crafts for David directly echoes key arguments from the Declaration. The central theme is the King’s resolve to rule according to "the known Laws of the Realm", a point emphasized in both the Declaration and the poem (Davies). However, as Davies notes, the poem shifts the emphasis from the King’s adherence to law (as stressed in the earlier Oxford speech) to the law's power to punish rebels:

The law shall still direct my peaceful sway,

And the same law teach rebels to obey

(Davies; Dryden). This aligns with the Crown's move towards prosecution (Davies). The poem condemns the Whigs' attempts to control royal power through parliamentary votes:

Votes shall no more establish'd pow'r control,

Such votes as make a part exceed the whole

mirroring the Declaration's denunciation of the Commons' "Strange illegal Votes" and assumption of power to suspend laws (Davies; Dryden). Similarly, David's vow that "No groundless clamours shall my friends remove" reflects the Declaration's complaint against the Commons declaring individuals enemies of the kingdom without due process (Davies; Dryden).

The conclusion also powerfully evokes the fear of renewed civil war, a cornerstone of the Declaration and the subsequent loyal addresses (Davies). David’s speech warns against shaking the "public pillars of the state" (Dryden) and implicitly rejects the Whig argument for altering the succession:

Without my leave a future king to choose,

Infers a right the present to depose

framing it as a path back to chaos, echoing the Declaration's warning that tampering with succession would establish "another most unnatural war" (Davies; Dryden). The speech's tone becomes increasingly stern, warning that royal clemency ("native mercy") has been mistaken for fear ("They call my tenderness of blood, my fear") and that continued defiance will force the King to wield the "sword of justice" (Dryden). The reference to making "examples of another kind" likely alludes, as Davies suggests, to the recent trial and execution of Stephen College, signaling the Crown's new, harder line (Davies). The chilling lines,

Against themselves their witnesses will swear,

Till viper like their mother plot they tear

directly address the context of Shaftesbury’s impending trial, where the Crown was relying on former Whig associates and Popish Plot witnesses (Davies; Dryden).

This concluding section, therefore, functions as a direct piece of political advocacy, shifting from the nuanced character analysis and ironic ambiguity of the poem's body to a clear, forceful articulation of the Crown's position (Davies). It leverages the success of the Declaration, reaffirming the King as the guardian of law against factionalism while justifying the move towards prosecuting opponents (Davies). While Dr. Johnson criticized the ending for its abruptness and artistic disproportion (Davies), Davies suggests this shift was a politically astute move, designed to consolidate moderate support won by the Declaration and to directly influence the outcome of Shaftesbury's trial (Davies). The conclusion sacrifices artistic consistency, particularly by dropping the focus on Achitophel as the central villain, for immediate propagandistic effect, transforming the poem into a direct instrument of state policy at a moment of critical legal and political confrontation (Davies).

Conclusion

The opening and concluding sections of John Dryden's Absalom and Achitophel exemplify the poet's remarkable ability to adapt sophisticated artistic strategies to serve immediate and pressing political objectives. As illuminated by the analyses of Dyson, Lovelock, and Davies, these framing passages employ distinct rhetorical approaches tailored to the specific challenges Charles II faced during the evolving Exclusion Crisis of 1681. The introduction navigates the treacherous territory of the King's personal reputation through complex irony and strategic use of the Davidic allegory, acknowledging flaws while firmly establishing the principle of legitimate succession and framing the ensuing conflict as a struggle against inherent popular instability and malicious manipulation (Dyson and Lovelock). Its nuanced, sometimes ambiguous tone reflects the need to tread carefully around the figure of the monarch while laying the groundwork for the poem's central argument.

In contrast, the conclusion sheds ambiguity in favor of direct, authoritative assertion, functioning as a powerful piece of state propaganda (Davies). Closely mirroring the arguments and tone of the King's successful Declaration of April 1681, David's final speech reinforces the image of the monarch as the upholder of law against rebellious faction, justifies the recent dissolution of Parliament, and implicitly endorses the Crown's shift towards prosecuting its chief opponents, particularly Shaftesbury (Davies). While potentially creating an artistic disjunction, as critics have noted (Davies), this declarative ending serves a clear polemical purpose, aiming to consolidate public opinion and influence legal outcomes at a critical moment (Davies). The poem's beginning and end thus reveal Dryden's masterful versatility, employing ironic complexity when navigating royal vulnerability and shifting to declarative force when asserting royal prerogative. Absalom and Achitophel endures not only as a brilliant satire but also as a testament to the intricate fusion of literary art and political engagement, demonstrating how poetic form can be powerfully shaped by, and in turn shape, the pressing realities of its historical context.

Works Cited

Davies, Godfrey. “The Conclusion of Dryden’s ‘Absalom and Achitophel.’” Huntington Library Quarterly, vol. 10, no. 1, 1946, pp. 69–82. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2307/3815829. Accessed 28 Oct. 2025.

Dryden, John. Absalom & Achitophel. Edited by W. D. Christie, Alpha Editions, 2020.

DYSON, A. E., and JULIAN LOVELOCK. “Beyond the Polemics: A Dialogue on the Opening of ‘Absalom and Achitophel.’” Critical Survey, vol. 5, no. 2, 1971, pp. 133–45. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/41553868. Accessed 28 Oct. 2025.