The Lives of the Poets of Great Britain and Ireland/Volume 4/Elijah Fenton
Elijah Fenton.
This worthy gentleman was born at Shelton, near Newcaſtle under the Line, in Staffordſhire.[1] In this county, though there are ſeveral families of the name of Fenton, yet they are all branches from one ſtock, which is a very antient and opulent family: Our author’s mother being immediately deſcended from one Mare, an officer in William the Conqueror’s army.
Our poet was the youngeſt of twelve children, and was intended by his parents for the miniſtry: He was ſent to the univerſity of Cambridge, where he embraced the principles very oppoſite to the government, by which he became diſqualified for entering into holy orders. We find him ſoon after his quitting the univerſity, ſecretary to the earl of Orrery, but how long he remained in that ſtation we cannot aſcertain. After he quitted the ſervice of this noble peer, it was his cuſtom to perform a viſit annually to his eldeſt brother’s houſe in the country, who poſſeſſed an eſtate of 1000 l. per annum. He was careſſed in the country, by all his relations, to whom he endeared himſelf, by his affable and genteel behaviour. Mr. Fenton was a man of the moſt tender humanity, and diſcovered it upon every proper occaſion: A gentleman reſident in that county, who has tranſmitted to us ſome account of Mr. Fenton, has given us the following inſtance of his humane diſpoſition.
He had a great number of ſiſters, ſome of whom were leſs happy in their marriages than others; one in particular was expoſed to many misfortunes, by the indiſcretion and extravagance of her huſband. It is the cuſtom of ſome people to make very great diſtinctions between their rich and poor relations; Mr. Fenton’s brother was of this ſtamp, and it ſeems treated his unfortunate ſiſter with leſs ceremony than the reſt. One day, while Mr. Fenton, was at his brother’s houſe, he obſerved the family going to dinner without this ſiſter, who was in town, and had as good a right to an invitation, as any of the reſt who dined there as a compliment to him. He could not help diſcovering his diſpleaſure at ſo unnatural a diſtinction, and would not ſit down to table till ſhe was ſent for, and in conſequence of this ſlight ſhewn her by the reſt of the family, Mr. Fenton treated her with more tenderneſs and complaiſance than any of his ſiſters.
Our author carried through life a very fair reputation, he was beloved and eſteemed by Mr. Pope, who honoured him with a beautiful epitaph. Mr. Fenton after a life of eaſe and tranquility, died at Eaſt-Hampſtead-Park, near Oakingham, the 13th of July 1730, much regretted by all men of taſte, not being obnoxious to the reſentment even of his brother writers.
In the year 1723, Mr. Fenton introduced upon the ſtage his Tragedy of Mariamne, built upon the ſtory related of her in the third volume of the Spectator, Numb. 171, which the ingenious author collected out of Joſephus. As this ſtory ſo fully diſplays the nature of the paſſion of jealouſy, and diſcovers ſo extraordinary a character as that of Herod, we ſhall here inſert it, after which we ſhall confider with what ſucceſs Mr. Fenton has managed the plot.
In a former paper, the author having treated the paſſion of jealouſy in various lights, and marked its progreſs through the human mind, concludes his animadverſions with this ſtory, which he ſays may ſerve as an example to whatever can be ſaid on that ſubject.
‘Mariamne had all the charms that beauty, birth, wit, and youth could give a woman, and Herod all the love that ſuch charms are able to raiſe in a warm and amorous diſpoſition. In the midſt of his fondneſs for Mariamne, he put her brother to death, as he did her father not many years after. The barbarity of the action was repreſented to Mark Anthony, who immediately ſummoned Herod into Egypt, to anſwer for the crime that was laid to his charge: Herod attributed the ſummons to Anthony’s deſire of Mariamne, whom therefore before his departure, he gave into the cuſtody of his uncle Joſeph, with private orders to put her to death, if any ſuch violence was offered to himſelf. This Joſeph was much delighted with Mariamne’s converſation, and endeavoured with all his art and rhetoric to ſet out the exceſs of Herod’s paſſion for her; but when he ſtill found her cold and incredulous, he inconſiderately told her, as a certain inſtance of her lord’s affecttion, the private orders he had left behind him, which plainly ſhewed, according to Joſeph’s interpretation, that he could neither live nor die without her. This barbarous inſtance of a wild unreaſonable paſſion quite put out for a time thoſe little remains of affection, ſhe ſtill had for her lord: Her thoughts were ſo wholly taken up with the cruelty of his orders, that ſhe could not conſider the kindneſs which produced them; and therefore repreſented him in her imagination, rather under the frightful idea of a murderer, than a lover.
‘Herod was at length acquitted, and diſmiſs’d by Mark Anthony, when his ſoul was all in flames for his Mariamne; but before their meeting he was not a little alarmed at the report he had heard of his uncle’s converſation and familiarity with her in his abſence. This therefore was the firſt diſcourſe he entertained her with, in which ſhe found it no eaſy matter to quiet his ſuſpicions. But at laſt he appeared ſo well ſatisfied of her innocence; that from reproaches, and wranglings, he fell to tears and embraces. Both of them wept very tenderly at their reconciliation, and Herod pour’d out his whole ſoul to her in the warmeſt proteſtations of love and conſtancy; when amidſt all his ſighs and languiſhings, ſhe aſked him, whether the private orders he left with his uncle Joſeph were an inſtance of ſuch an enflamed affection? The jealous king was immediately rouſed at ſo unexpected a queſtion, and concluded his uncle muſt have been too familiar with her, before he would have diſcovered ſuch a ſecret. In ſhort he put his uncle to death, and very difficultly prevailed on himſelf to ſpare Mariamne.
‘After this he was forced on a ſecond journey into Egypt, when he committed his lady to the care of Sohemus, with the ſame private orders he had before given his uncle, if any miſchief befel himſelf: In the mean time Mariamne had ſo won upon Sohemus, by her preſents and obliging behaviour, that ſhe drew all the ſecret from him, with which Herod had entruſted him; ſo that after his return, when he flew to her, with all the tranſports of joy and love, ſhe received him coldly with ſighs and tears, and all the marks of indifference and averſion. This reception ſo ſtirred up his indignation, that he had certainly ſlain her with his own hands, had not he feared he himſelf ſhould become the greater ſufferer by it. It was not long after this, when he had another violent return of love upon him; Mariamne was therefore ſent for to him, whom he endeavoured to ſoften and reconcile with all poſſible conjugal careſſes, and endearments; but ſhe declined his embraces, and anſwered all his fondneſs, with bitter invectives for the death of her father and her brother.
‘This behaviour ſo incenſed Herod, that he very hardly refrained from ſtriking her when in the heat of their quarrel, there came in a witneſs, ſuborned by ſome of Mariamne’s enemies, who accuſed her to the king of a deſign to poiſon him. Herod was now prepared to hear any thing in her prejudice, and immediately ordered her ſervant to be ſtretched upon the rack; who in the extremity of his tortures confeſt, that his miſtreſſes averſion to the king aroſe from ſomething Sohemus had told her; but as for any deſign of poiſoning, he utterly diſowned the leaſt knowledge of it. This confeſſion quickly proved fatal to Sohemus, who now lay under the ſame ſuſpicions and ſentence, that Joſeph had before him, on the like occaſion. Nor would Herod reſt here; but accuſed her with great vehemence of a deſign upon his life, and by his authority with the judges had her publickly condemned and executed.
‘Herod ſoon after her deceaſe grew melancholy and dejected, retiring from the public adminiſtration of affairs, into a ſolitary foreſt, and there abandoned himſelf to all the black conſiderations, which naturally ariſe from a paſſion made up of love, remorſe, pity and deſpair. He uſed to rave for his Mariamne, and to call upon her in his diſtracted fits; and in all probability, would have ſoon followed her, had not his thoughts been ſeaſonably called off from ſo fad an object, by public ſtorms, which at that time very nearly threatened him.’
Mr. Fenton in the conduct of this deſign, has ſhewn himſelf a very great maſter of ſtage propriety. He has ſoftened the character of Herod, well knowing that ſo cruel a tyrant as the ſtory makes him, could not be born upon the Engliſh ſtage. He has altered the character of Sohemus, from an honeſt confident, to a crafty enterpriſing ſtateſman, who to raiſe his maſter to the throne of Judea, murthered the natural heir. He has introduced in his drama, a character under the name of Salome, the king’s ſiſter, who bore an implacable hatred to Mariamne; and who in league with Sohemus purſues her revenge, at no leſs a price than that of her brother’s and the queen’s life.
After the wars, which had ſubſiſted between Cæſar and Anthony, had ſubſided, and the world fell to the ſhare of the former; Herod is repreſented as having juſt returned from Rome, where, as an hoſtage to the emperor, he has ſtipulated to ſend his younger ſon there, and Flaminius, a noble Roman accompanies him into Jewry, to carry off the young prince. The day in which this dramatic action begins, is upon a grand feſtival, appointed in honour of Herod’s ſafe return from Rome, and being ſtill permitted to enjoy his kingdom. The hard condition of ſending the prince to Rome, greatly affects the heart of the queen, whom the poet has drawn a moſt tender mother. This throws a cloud over the ceremony, and furniſhes an opportunity for Sohemus and Salome, to ſet their infernal engines at work; who, in conjunction with Sameas the king’s cup bearer, contrive to poiſon the king and queen at the feaſt. But the poiſoned cup is firſt taſted by Hazeroth, a young lord related to the queen, and the ſudden effect which it has upon him diſcovers the villainy.
The queen’s abſence from the feaſt proves a fatal circumſtance, and as managed by Sohemus, fixes the appearance of guilt upon her. While Herod was abſent at Rome, Sohemus made addreſſes to Arſinoe, a Roman lady, confidant to Mariamne; to whom in the ardour of his paſſion he revealed the ſecret entruſted to him by Herod, of putting Mariamne to death, in caſe ſhe by any calamitous accident ſhould loſe his life. Arſinoe from a motive of affection communicated this to Mariamne; as an inſtance of the violent paſſion which Herod had for her. This ſhe did immediately before her departure for Rome, with Flaminius the Roman envoy, who proved to be the lord of her wiſhes, whom ſhe imagined to have been killed in fighting againſt Mark Anthony. Mariamne thrown into this imminent danger, orders Arſinoe to be intercepted, whoſe return clears up her innocence, as ſhe declares that no correſpondence had ever been carried on between the queen and Sohemus, of whom he was now jealous, as Mariamne had upbraided him with his cruel reſolutions of putting her to death, entruſted to that miniſter. Herod is ſatisfied of her innocence, by the evidence of Arſinoe; but as he had before given the cruel orders for putting the queen to death, ſhe, to prevent the execution of ſuch barbarity, drank poiſon. The Queen is conducted in by the high prieſt in the agonies of death, which gives ſuch a ſhock to Herod, that not able to ſurvive her, he dies in the ſight of the audience.
Sohemus, who knew what tortures would be reſerved for him, kills himſelf, after having ſacrificed Sameas, by whoſe treachery the plot was diſcovered, and who in his falling ſtabs Salome to the heart, as the laſt effort of his revenge.
As the plan of this play is regular, ſimple, and intereſting, ſo are the ſentiment no leſs maſterly, and the characters graphically diſtinguiſhed. It contains likewiſe many beautiful ſtrokes of poetry.
When Narbal, a lord of the queen’s party, gives an account to Flaminius the Roman general, of the queen’s parting with her ſon; he ſays,
A while ſhe ſtood,
Transform’d by grief to marble, and appear’d
Her own pale monument;
Flaminius conſiſtent with his character as a ſoldier, anſwers,
Give me, ye gods! the harmony of war,
The trumpet’s clangor, and the claſh of arms,
That concert animates the glowing breaſt,
To ruſh on death; but when our ear is pierc’d
With the ſad notes which mournful beauty yields;
Our manhood melts in ſymphathiſing tears.
The character of Sameas the king’s cup-bearer, is one of the moſt villainous ever ſhewn upon a ſtage; and the poet makes Sohemus, in order to give the audience a true idea of him, and to prepare them for thoſe barbarities he is to execute, relate the following inſtance of his cruelty.
Along the ſhore
He walk’d one evening, when the clam’rous rage
Of tempeſts wreck’d a ſhip: The crew were ſunk,
The maſter only reach’d the neighb’ring ſtand,
Born by a floating fragment; but ſo weak
With combating the ſtorm, his tongue had loſt
The faculty of ſpeech, and yet for aid
He faintly wav’d his hand, on which he wore
A fatal jewel. Sameas, quickly charm’d
Both by its ſize, and luſtre, with a look
Of pity ſtoop’d, to take him by the hand;
Then cut the finger off to gain the ring,
And plung’d him back to periſh in the waves;
Crying, go dive for more.—I’ve heard him boaſt
Of this adventure.
In the 5th act, when Herod is agitated with the rage of jealouſy, his brother Pheroras thus addreſes him,
Sir, let her crime
Eraſe the faithful characters which love
Imprinted on your heart,
Herod. Alas! the pain
We feel, whene’er we diſpoſſeſs the ſoul
Of that tormenting tyrant, far exceeds
The rigour of his rule.
Pheroras. With reaſon quell
That haughty paſſion; treat it as your ſlave:
Reſume the monarch.
The obſervation, which Herod makes upon this, is very affecting. The poet has drawn him ſo tortured with his paſſion, that he ſeems almoſt ſufficiently puniſhed, for the barbarity of cutting off the father and brother of Mariamne,
Herod. Where’s the monarch now?
The vulgar call us gods, and fondly think
That kings are caſt in more than mortal molds;
Alas! they little know that when the mind
Is cloy’d with pomp, our taſte is pall’d to joy;
But grows more ſenſible of grief or pain.
The ſtupid peaſant with as quick a ſenſe
Enjoys the fragrance of a roſe, as I;
And his rough hand is proof againſt the thorn,
Which rankling in my tender ſkin, would ſeem
A viper’s tooth. Oh bliſsful poverty!
Nature, too partial! to thy lot aſſigns
Health, freedom, innocence, and downy peace,
Her real goods; and only mocks the great
With empty pageantries! Had I been born
A cottager, my homely bowl had flow’d
Secure from pois’nous drugs; but not my wife!
Let me, good heav’n! forget that guilty name,
Or madneſs will enſue.
Some critics have blamed Mariamne, for yielding her affections to Herod, who had embrued his hands in her father and brother’s blood; in this perhaps ſhe cannot be eaſily defended, but the poet had a right to repreſent this as he literally found it in hiſtory; and being the circumſtance upon which all the others depended. Tho’ this play is one of the moſt beautiful in our language, yet it is in many places expoſed to juſt criticiſm; but as it has more beauties than faults, it would be a kind of violence to candour to ſhew the blemiſhes.
The life of Fenton, like other poets who have never been engaged in public buſineſs, being barren of incidents, we have dwelt the longer on his works, a tribute which his genius naturally demanded from us.
Mr. Fenton’s other poetical works were publiſhed in one volume 1717, and conſiſt chiefly of the following pieces.
An Ode to the Sun, for the new year 1707, as a ſpecimen of which we ſhall quote the three following ſtanzas.
I.
Begin celeſtial ſource of light,
To gild the new revolving ſphere;
And from the pregnant womb of night;
Urge on to birth the infant year.
Rich with auſpicious luſtre riſe,
Thou faireſt regent of the ſkies,
Conſpicuous with thy ſilver bow!
To thee, a god, ’twas given by Jove
To rule the radiant orbs above,
To Gloriana this below.
II.
With joy renew thy deſtin’d race,
And let the mighty months begin:
Let no ill omen cloud thy face,
Thro’ all thy circle ſmile ſerene.
While the ſtern miniſters of fate
Watchful o’er the pale Lutetia wait,
To grieve the Gaul’s perfidious head;
The hours, thy offspring heav’nly fair,
Their whiteſt wings ſhould ever wear,
And gentle joys on Albion ſhed.
III.
When Ilia bore the future fates of Rome,
And the long honours of her race began,
Thus, to prepare the graceful age to come,
They from thy ſtores in happy order ran.
Heroes elected to the liſt of fame,
Fix’d the ſure columns of her riſing ſtate:
’Till the loud triumphs of the Julian name
Render’d the glories of her reign compleat,
Each year advanc’d a rival to the reſt,
In comely ſpoils of war, and great atchievements dreſt.
Florelio, a Paſtoral, lamenting the death of the marquis of Blandford.
Part of the fourteenth chapter of Iſaiah Paraphraſed.
Verſes on the Union.
Cupid and Hymen.
Olivia, a ſmall Poem of humour againſt a Prude.
The Fair Nun, a Tale.
An Epiſtle addreſſed to Mr. Southern, written in the year 1711.
The eleventh Book of Homer’s Odyſſey, tranſlated in Milton’s ſtile.
The Widow’s Will; a Tale.
A-La-Mode, a very humorous repreſentation of a fond, doating Huſband, injured by his Wife.
Sappho to Phaon. A Love Epiſtle, tranſlated from Ovid.
Phaon to Sappho.
A Tale deviſed in the pleaſant manner of Chaucer; in which the Poet imitates that venerable old Bard, in the obſolete Language of his Verſe.
Verſes addreſſed to Mr. Pope.
The Platonic Spell.
Marullus de Neæra.
Marullus imitated.
Joannis Secundi Baſium I.
Kiſſes. Tranſlated from Secundus. I know not if all poetry ever exceeded the ſmoothneſs and delicacy of thoſe lines. They flow wilh an irreſiſtable enchantment, and as the inſerting them will ſhew the ſpirit both of the original and tranſlation, we ſhall make no further apology for doing it.
When Venus, in the ſweet Idalian ſhade,
A violet couch for young Aſcanius made;
Their op’ning gems, th’ obedient roſes bow’d
And veil’d his beauties with a damaſk cloud:
While the bright goddeſs with a gentle ſhow’r,
Of neclar’d dews, perfum’d the bliſsful bow’r.
Of ſight inſatiate, ſhe devours his charms.
’Till her ſoft breaſt re-kindling ardour warms:
New joys tumultuous in her boſom rowl,
And all Adonis ruſheth on her ſoul.
Tranſported with each dear reſembling grace,
Ahe cries, Adonis!——Sure I ſee thy face!
Then ſtoops to claſp the beauteous form, but fears
He’d wake too ſoon, and with a ſigh forbears;
Yet, fix’d in ſilent rapture, ſtands to gaze,
Kiſſing each flow’ring bud that round him plays.
Swell’d with the touch, each animated roſe
Expands; and ſtrait with warmer purple glows:
Where infant kiſſes bloom, a balmy ſtore!
Redoubling all the bliſs ſhe felt before.
Sudden, her ſwans career along the ſkies,
And o’er the globe the fair celeſtial flies.
Then, as where Ceres paſs’d, the teeming plain,
Yellow’d with wavy crops of golden grain;
So fruitful kiſſes fell where Venus flew;
And by the power of genial magic grew:
A plenteous harveſt! which ſhe deign’d t’impart
To ſooth an agonizing love-ſick heart.
All hail, ye Roſeat kiſſes! who remove
Our cares, and cool the calenture of love.
Lo! I your poet in melodious lays,
Bleſs your kind pow’r; enamoured of your praiſe:
Lays! form’d to laſt, ’till barb’rous time invades
The muſes hill, and withers all their ſhades.
Sprung from the Guardian[2] of the Roman name,
In Roman numbers live ſecure of fame.
Joannis Secundi Baſum IId. tranſlated.
An Epiſtle to Thomas Lambard Eſq;
An Ode to the right hon. John lord Gower. An EPITAPH
On Mr. ELIJAH FENTON,
At Eaſt-Hampſtead in Berks, 1730.
This modeſt ſtone, what few vain marbles can,
May truly ſay, here lies an honeſt man:
A Poet, bleſs’d beyond a Poet’s fate,
Whom Heav’n kept ſacred from the proud and great:
Foe to loud praiſe, and friend to learned eaſe,
Content with ſcience in the vale of peace.
Calmly he look’d on either life, and here
Saw nothing to regret, or there to fear;
From nature’s temp’rate feaſt roſe ſatisfy’d
Thank’d Heav’n, that he had liv’d, and that he died.
