“The So-called Council of State” 1649–1652hastened the loss of his other eye (EL 28). Seatoning, for treating chronic headache
and inflammation of the eyes, involved piercing the skin just below the hairline,
passing through the holes a hot cautery with a diamond point and then a needle
with thread dipped in egg white and rose oil. Other standard remedies included
cupping, bloodletting, caustics applied to the back of the head, and violent laxative
purges.^133 Such “cures” surely heightened Milton’s physical misery and also his
mental anguish since they did not work. After he returned and resumed his duties,
he soon had further cause for anxiety: when the new Council of State convened on
December 1, 1651, it did not at once reappoint him, doubtful, perhaps, about his
continued usefulness. It did so on December 29 (LR III, 115), but through those
wintry days, and as he passed his forty-third birthday on December 9, he must have
feared that his proud public service to the new republic would soon end. On De-
cember 17 he made what he described as “a necessary and sudden move” from the
Whitehall lodgings “for the sake of my health”; other likely considerations were
anxiety about reappointment and his growing family – a new baby was expected in
about four months.^134 He may also have had a final eviction notice from the Parlia-
ment Committee. Edward Phillips describes the amenities of the new residence: “a
pretty Garden-house in Petty-France (York Street) in Westminster, next door to
the Lord Scudamore’s, and opening into St. James Park” (plate 10).^135 Milton al-
ways enjoyed a garden and was no doubt pleased to renew contact with the diplo-
mat who had entertained him some years ago in Paris. But he could no longer
enjoy the vistas.
When Milton returned in mid-October, still in poor health, he found that diplo-
matic activities had accelerated after the Battle of Worcester (September 3, 1651),
which convinced the European powers that the monarchy was not about to return
and they must deal seriously with the new republic. Envoys were sent from Swe-
den, Denmark, and Tuscany. Also, a large mission from the United Provinces ar-
rived in December, headed by the Dutch poet and diplomat Jacob Cats; it sought
repeal or modification of the Navigation Act of October 9, 1651, which was de-
signed to undercut the Dutch monopoly on shipping by requiring that all imports
to England be carried in English ships or ships of the country of origin. Overshad-
owed by these envoys with more important business, Hermann Mylius, emissary
from Count Anthon of Oldenburg, was attempting to secure a formal Latin
Salvaguardia or Safeguard to protect merchants of that small German principality
from seizure of their goods and vessels by English warships carrying on their unde-
clared naval war with Portugal and France. He also wanted a Rescript in English, to
be shown to ships’ captains, officers, or others as needed. Not surprisingly, the
English government found little time for Oldenburg during the busy months when
it was securing peace and union with the Scots, enforcing the Navigation Act,
debating and ultimately deciding not to call a new parliament, and appointing new
members to the Council of State. So Mylius’s affair dragged on for seven months
(he arrived in London on August 28, 1651 and left in March, 1652), during which