The Ideal Gentleman: The Life of Renaissance Poet and Adventurer Sir Philip Sidney

The Ideal Gentleman: The Life of Renaissance Poet and Adventurer Sir Philip Sidney
"Sir Philip Sidney" by Francesco Bartolozzi. Engraving. Yale Center for British Art, New Haven, Conn. Smartify Bot/CC BY-SA 1.0
Walker Larson
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When Sir Philip Sidney died on Oct. 17, 1586, at just 31, he was mourned by many and memorialized as “the ideal gentleman of his day.” Such a designation wasn’t easy to achieve by Elizabethan standards. A gentleman of this era needed to be educated, refined, well-mannered, artistic, independent, courageous—a consummate soldier, statesman, and poet all at the same time. Yet Sir Philip Sidney earned high marks in all these categories. His relatively early death deprived England of an ascendant literary and political luminary.
Sir Philip Sidney, circa 1578, by unknown artist. (Public Domain)
Sir Philip Sidney, circa 1578, by unknown artist. Public Domain

An All-Around Hero

He was born on Nov. 30, 1554, to Sir Henry Sidney and Lady Mary Dudley. His birthplace, Penshurst Place in Kent, England, was the ancestral home of the Sidney family. Philip’s father eventually rose to the position of lord president of Wales, a post that often took him away from the estate. Philip’s mother served as a lady-in-waiting to Queen Elizabeth—but through that service, she contracted smallpox that left her face disfigured. After the disfigurement, she avoided appearing at court as much as possible. According to the Poetry Foundation, the sonnets Philip wrote that lament the loss of beauty to disease may have been prompted by his mother’s experience.
Philip received an excellent education at Shrewsbury School, the same school where he met his close friend for life and biographer, Fulke Greville. Greville wrote of Philip that “even his teachers found something in him to observe, and learn, above that which they had usually read, or taught.” The intensity of the school—where most of the curriculum was in Latin—suited and amplified Sidney’s bright mind and strong self-discipline.

After Shrewsbury, Philip attended Christ Church, Oxford for three years, contracted and recovered from the plague, and embarked on a stint of European travel. During his tour of the Continent, he improved his knowledge of foreign languages (Latin, French, and Italian) and studied foreign cultures. He also sat for a portrait by the Venetian master Paolo Veronese—unfortunately, this treasure has been lost.

Sir Philip Sidney spent several years of his adolescence at Christ Church, Oxford. He probably worshipped in Christ Church Cathedral, a church that has existed in various forms and names since before 1002. (<a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/User:Diliff"><span class="mw-page-title-main">Diliff</span></a>/<a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en">CC BY-SA 3.0</a>)
Sir Philip Sidney spent several years of his adolescence at Christ Church, Oxford. He probably worshipped in Christ Church Cathedral, a church that has existed in various forms and names since before 1002. Diliff/CC BY-SA 3.0

Philip’s courtly career began as cupbearer to Queen Elizabeth I, a position he succeeded his father to in 1576. He quickly received more important roles, such as ambassador to the German emperor Rudolf II. As part of this commission to the emperor, Philip received secret orders to survey German feeling about a potential Protestant league. This league of Protestant nations would aim to counterbalance Catholic Spain, a major world power at the time.

After his work as ambassador, Philip served in parliament in 1581 and again in 1584 and 1585. Around this time, too, an interest in the newly discovered Americas flared within him and he invested in multiple voyages to the New World. Accounts of Richard Hakluyt’s exploration, “Divers Voyages Touching the Discoverie of America,” was dedicated to Sir Philip Sidney.

A Lover of Literature

But Philip is not primarily remembered for his support of exploration or for his diplomatic work or even for the frank letter of marriage advice he wrote to the queen, but instead for his literary career. It began in earnest around 1578. Many consider his sonnets second only to Shakespeare’s. It’s somewhat ironic that Philip’s legacy is literary, since Philip didn’t think of himself as predominantly a writer. He even wrote, almost apologetically, in his essay “The Defence of Poesy” that he became a poet accidentally: “In these my not old years and idlest times having slipped into the title of a poet.” “The Defence of Poesy” is among the greatest works of Elizabethan literary criticism.

The bulk of Philip’s oeuvre was written in the space of just seven to eight years. He took a foray into writing drama, completing the pastoral play “The Lady of May” around 1579. At this time, he was also experimenting with a new form of poetic meter that was measured not by the number of accents in a line but by counting the duration of syllables.

Philip’s most ambitious work was published posthumously in 1593, a pastoral romance called “The Countess of Pembroke’s Arcadia.” It tells of a man trying to escape a prophecy. Most of his literary work was likely written when he lived with his younger sister Mary, the countess of Pembroke, at Wilton. In it, a duke hears an unsettling prophecy about his wife and daughters from the oracle and attempts to escape this future, leading to adventures both comic and tragic.

The title of the “most famous” or “most successful” of Philip’s works, however, goes to a different project: a sequence of 108 love sonnets called “Astrophel and Stella.” The names of the characters set up the central tension: “Astrophel” means “lover of a star,” and “Stella” means “star.” The sonnets tell of Astrophel’s doomed love for Stella and are likely based on Philip’s relationship with Penelope Devereux, whose father, Walter Devereux, first Earl of Essex, had expressed his wish on his deathbed that Penelope marry Philip. Philip did not follow up on this, however, and Penelope married Lord Robert Rich in 1581. Penelope was not as interested in the marriage as her father was, and that may have contributed to Philip’s hesitation.

Though we must be careful not to identify Astrophel too strictly with Philip himself, it does seem that Philip expresses in his poetry some regret over his inaction:

But to myself myself did give the blow, While too much wit (forsooth) so troubled me, That I respects for both our sakes must show: And yet could not by rising Morn foresee How fair a day was near, o punished eyes, That I had been more foolish or more wise.

This stanza gives only a small taste of the beautiful imagery and elaborate syntax that Philip employs in the sonnet sequence. As “The Oxford Companion to English Literature” puts it: “Poetically ... the sonnets are an outstanding achievement, being written throughout in versions of the exacting Italian sonnet form, and displaying a striking range of tone, imagery, and metaphor.” In spite of his literary prowess, Philip chose not to publish his writing during his lifetime.
The frontispiece of a handwritten copy of "Astrophel and Stella" by Sir Philip Sidney. (<span id="firstHeadingTitle"><a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=User:UtopiaCaled0nia&action=edit&redlink=1">UtopiaCaled0nia</a>/<a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en">CC BY-SA 3.0</a>)</span>
The frontispiece of a handwritten copy of "Astrophel and Stella" by Sir Philip Sidney. (UtopiaCaled0nia/CC BY-SA 3.0)

A Sudden End

Another appointment from the queen came to Philip in 1585 when he was sent to help the Dutch in their struggle against the Spanish. He was made governor of Flushing in the Netherlands and placed in command of a cavalry troop. The skirmishes against the Spanish were inconclusive, and the morale of Philip’s men suffered.

Finally, on Sept. 22, 1586, Philip volunteered for a mission to attack a Spanish supply chain destined for the Dutch town of Zutphen. Though his troop was outnumbered, Philip repeatedly charged the enemy lines with unbreakable courage. During the attack, he received a bullet wound to the thigh. One legend, recorded in “The Oxford Companion to English Literature,” holds that Philip intentionally removed his thigh armor before battle so he wouldn’t be better protected than one of his men who lacked the equipment.

It is said, too, that as he lay dying, he gave his supply of water during the last month of his life to another soldier, saying, “Thy necessity is yet greater than mine.” Whether these two anecdotes are completely true or not, they do epitomize something of Philip Sidney’s valiant spirit and the ideal of the Elizabethan gentleman.

Sir Philip Sidney’s wound became infected, and he died on Oct. 17, 1586. There was an outpouring of grief, and practically all the major English poets composed elegiac verses in his honor.

Plate 16 from "Procession at the Obsequies of Sir Philip Sidney," 1587, by Theodor de Bry. (PD-US)
Plate 16 from "Procession at the Obsequies of Sir Philip Sidney," 1587, by Theodor de Bry. PD-US
As the Encyclopedia Britannica puts it: “He won this adulation even though he had accomplished no action of consequence; it would be possible to write a history of Elizabethan political and military affairs without so much as mentioning his name. It is not what he did but what he was that made him so widely admired: the embodiment of the Elizabethan ideal of gentlemanly virtue.”
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Walker Larson
Walker Larson
Author
Prior to becoming a freelance journalist and culture writer, Walker Larson taught literature and history at a private academy in Wisconsin, where he resides with his wife and daughter. He holds a master's in English literature and language, and his writing has appeared in The Hemingway Review, Intellectual Takeout, and his Substack, The Hazelnut. He is also the author of two novels, "Hologram" and "Song of Spheres."