most cruel necessities, poor Otway died of want, in a public house on
Tower-hill, in the 33rd year of his age, 1685. He had, no doubt, been
driven to that part of the town, to avoid the persecution of his
creditors and as he durst not appear much abroad to sollicit
assistance, and having no means of getting money in his obscure
retreat, he perished. It has been reported, that Mr. Otway, whom
delicacy had long deterred from borrowing small sums, driven at last
to the most grievous necessity ventured out of his lurking place,
almost naked and shivering, and went into a coffee-house on
Tower-hill, where he saw a gentleman, of whom he had some knowledge,
and of whom he sollicited the loan of a shilling. The gentleman was
quite shocked, to see the author of Venice Preserved begging bread,
and compassionately put into his hand a guinea.
Mr. Otway having thanked his benefactor, retired, and changed the
guinea to purchase a roll; as his stomach was full of wind by excess
of fasting, the first mouthful choaked him, and instantaneously put a
period to his days.
Who can consider the fate of this gentleman, without being moved to
pity? we can forgive his acts of imprudence, since they brought him to
so miserable an end; and we cannot but regret, that he who was endowed
by nature with such distinguished talents, as to make the bosom bleed
with salutary sorrow, should himself be so extremely wretched, as to
excite the same sensations for him, which by the power of his
eloquence and poetry, he had raised for imaginary heroes. We know,
indeed, of no guilty part of Otway's life, other than those
fashionable faults, which usually recommend to the conversation of men
in courts, but which serve for excuses for their patrons, when they
have not a mind to provide for them. From the example of Mr. Otway,
succeeding poets should learn not to place any confidence in the
promises of patrons; it discovers a higher spirit, and reflects more
honour on a man to struggle nobly for independance, by the means of
industry, than servilely to wait at a great man's gate, or to sit at
his table, meerly to afford him diversion: Competence and independence
have surely more substantial charms, than the smiles of a courtier,
which are too frequently fallacious. But who can read Mr Otway's
story, without indignation at those idols of greatness, who demand
worship from men of genius, and yet can suffer them to live miserably,
and die neglected?
The dramatic works of Mr. Otway are,
1. Alcibiades, a Tragedy, acted at the Duke of York's Theatre, 1675,
dedicated to Charles, Earl of Middlesex. The story of this play is
taken from Cor. Nepos, and Plutarch's Life of Alcibiades.
2. Titus and Berenice, a Tragedy, acted at the Duke's Theatre, 1677,
dedicated to John, Earl of Rochester. This play consists of but three
Acts, and is a translation from M. Racine into heroic verse; for the
story see Suetonius, Dionysius, Josephus; to which is added the Cheats
of Scapin, a Farce, acted the same year. This is a translation from
Moliere, and is originally Terence's Phormio.
3. Friendship in Fashion, a Comedy, acted at the Duke's Theatre, 1678,
dedicated to the Earl of Dorset and Middlesex. This play was revived
at the Theatre-Royal in Drury-Lane, 1749, and was damned by the
audience, on account of the immorality of the design, and the
obscenity of the dialogue.
4. Don Carlos, Prince of Spain, a Tragedy, acted at the Duke of York's
Theatre, 1679. This play, which was the second production of our
author, written in heroic verse, was acted with very great applause,
and had a run of thirty nights; the plot from the Novel called Don
Carlos.
5. The Orphan, or the Unhappy Marriage, a Tragedy, acted at the Duke
of York's Theatre, 1680, dedicated to her Royal Highness the Duchess.
It is founded on the History of Brandon, and a Novel called the
English Adventurer. Scene Bohemia.
6. The History and Fall of Caius Marius, a Tragedy, acted at the
Duke's Theatre, 1680, dedicated to Lord Viscount Falkland. The
characters of Marius Junior and Lavinia, are borrowed literally from
Shakespear's Romeo and Juliet, which Otway has acknowledged in his
Prologue.
7. The Soldier's Fortune, a Comedy, acted at the Duke's Theatre, 1681.
This play is dedicated to Mr. Bentley his Bookseller; for the copy
money, as he tells us himself, see Boccace's Novels, Scarron's
Romances.
8. The Atheist, or the Second Part of the Soldier's Fortune, a Comedy,
acted at the Duke of York's Theatre, 1684, dedicated to Lord Eland,
the eldest son to the Marquis of Hallifax.
9. Venice Preserved, or a Plot Discovered, a Tragedy, acted at the
Duke's Theatre, 1685, dedicated to the Duchess of Portsmouth. Of this
we have already given some account, and it is so frequently acted,
that any enlargement would be impertinent. It is certainly one of the
most moving plays upon the English stage; the plot from a little book,
giving an account of the Conspiracy of the Spaniards against Venice.
Besides his plays, he wrote several poems, viz.
The Poet's Complaint to his Muse, or a Satire against Libels, London;
1680, in 4to.
Windsor Castle, or a Monument to King Charles the Second.
Miscellany Poems, containing a New Translation of Virgil's Eclogues,
Ovid's Elegies, Odes of Horace, London 1864. He translated likewise
the Epistle of Phædra to Hyppolitus, printed in the Translation of
Ovid's Epistles, by several hands. He wrote the Prologue to Mrs.
Bhon's City Heiress. Prefixed to Creechis Lucretius, there is a copy
of verses written by Mr. Otway, in praise of that translation.
* * * * *
JOHN OLDHAM.
This eminent satyrical poet, was the son of the reverend Mr. John
Oldham, a nonconformist minister, and grandson to Mr. John Oldham,
rector of Nun-Eaton, near Tedbury in Gloucestershire. He was born at
Shipton (where his father had a congregation, near Tedbury, and in the
same county) on the 9th of August 1653. He was educated in grammar
learning, under the care of his father, till he was almost fitted for
the university; and to be compleatly qualified for that purpose, he
was sent to Tedbridge school, where he spent about two years under the
tuition of Mr. Henry Heaven, occasioned by the earnest request of
alderman Yeats of Bristol, who having a son at the same school, was
desirous that Mr. Oldham should be his companion, which he imagined
would much conduce to the advancement of his learning. This for some
time retarded Oldham in the prosecution of his own studies, but for
the time he lost in forwarding Mr. Yeat's son, his father afterwards
made him an ample amends. Mr. Oldham being sent to Edmund Hall in
Oxford, was committed to the care of Mr. William Stephens: of which
hall he became a bachelor in the beginning of June 1670. He was soon
observed to be a good latin scholar, and chiefly addicted himself to
the study of poetry, and other polite acquirements[1]. In the year
1674, he took the degree of bachelor of arts, but left the university
before he compleated that degree by determination, being much against
his inclination compelled to go home and live for some time with his
father. The next year he was very much afflicted for the death of his
dear friend, and constant companion, Mr. Charles Mervent, as appears
by his ode upon that occasion. In a short time after he became usher
to the free-school at Croyden in Surry. Here it was, he had the honour
of receiving a visit from the earl of Rochester, the earl of Dorset,
Sir Charles Sedley, and other persons of distinction, meerly upon the
reputation of some verses which they had seen in manuscript. The
master of the school was not a little surprized, at such a visit, and
would fain have taken the honour of it to himself, but was soon
convinced that he had neither wit nor learning enough to make a party
in such company. This adventure was no doubt very happy for Mr.
Oldham, as it encreased his reputation and gained him the countenance
of the Great, for after about three years continuance at Croyden
school, he was recommended by his good friend Harman Atwood, Esq; to
Sir Edward Thurland, a judge, near Rygate in the same county, who
appointed him tutor to his two grandsons. He continued in this family
till 1680. After this he was sometime tutor to a son of Sir William
Hicks, a gentleman living within three or four miles of London, who
was intimately acquainted with a celebrated Physician, Dr. Richard
Lower, by whose peculiar friendship and encouragement, Mr. Oldham at
his leisure hours studied physic for about a year, and made some
progress in it, but the bent of his poetical genius was too strong to
become a proficient in any school but that of the muses. He freely
acknowledges this in a letter to a friend, written in July 1678.
While silly I, all thriving arts refuse, }
And all my hopes, and all my vigour lose, }
In service of the worst of jilts a muse. }
* * * * *
Oft I remember, did wise friends dissuade,
And bid me quit the trifling barren trade.
Oft have I tryed (heaven knows) to mortify
This vile and wicked bent of poetry;
But still unconquered it remains within,
Fixed as a habit, or some darling sin.
In vain I better studies there would sow;
Oft have I tried, but none will thrive or grow.
All my best thoughts, when I'd most serious be,
Are never from its foul infection free:
Nay God forgive me when I say my prayers,
I scarce can help polluting them with verse.
The fab'lous wretch of old revers'd I seem,
Who turn whatever I touch to dross of rhime.
Our author had not been long in London, before he was found out by the
noblemen who visited him at Croyden, and who now introduced him to the
acquaintance of Mr. Dryden. But amongst the Men of quality he was most
affectionately caressed by William Earl of Kingston, who made him an
offer of becoming his chaplain; but he declined an employment, to
which servility and dependence are so necessarily connected. The
writer of his life observes, that our author in his satire addressed
to a friend, who was about to quit the university, and came abroad
into the world, lets his friend know, that he was frighted from the
thought of such an employment, by the scandalous sort of treatment
which often accompanies it. This usage deters men of generous minds
from placing themselves in such a station of life; and hence persons
of quality are frequently excluded from the improving, agreeable
conversation of a learned and obsequious friend. In this satire Mr.
Oldham writes thus,
Some think themselves exalted to the sky,
If they light on some noble family.
Diet and horse, and thirty-pounds a year,
Besides the advantage of his lordship's ear.
The credit of the business and the state,
Are things that in a youngster's sense found great.
Little the unexperienced wretch does know,
What slavery he oft must undergo;
Who tho' in silken stuff, and cassoc drest,
Wears but a gayer livery at best.
When diner calls, the implement must wait,
With holy words to consecrate the meat;
But hold it for a favour seldom known,
If he be deign'd the honour to sit down.
Soon as the tarts appear, Sir Crape withdraw,
Those dainties are not for a spiritual maw.
Observe your distance, and be sure to stand
Hard by the cistern, with your cap in hand:
There for diversion you may pick your teeth,
Till the kind voider comes for your relief,
For meer board wages, such their freedom sell,
Slaves to an hour, and vassals to a bell:
And if th' employments of one day be stole,
They are but prisoners out upon parole:
Always the marks of slavery remain,
And they tho' loose, still drag about their chain.
And where's the mighty prospect after all,
A chaplainship serv'd up, and seven years thrall?
The menial thing, perhaps for a reward,
Is to some slender benefice prefer'd,
With this proviso bound that he must wed, }
My lady's antiquated waiting maid, }
In dressing only skill'd, and marmalade. }
Let others who such meannesses can brook,
Strike countenance to ev'ry great man's look:
Let those, that have a mind, turn slave to eat,
And live contented by another's plate:
I rate my freedom higher, nor will I,
For food and rayment track my liberty.
But if I must to my last shift be put,
To fill a bladder, and twelve yards of gut,
Richer with counterfeited wooden leg,
And my right arm tyed up, I'll choose to beg.
I'll rather choose to starve at large, than be,
The gaudiest vassal to dependancy.
The above is a lively and animated description of the miseries of a
slavish dependance on the great, particularly that kind of
mortification which a chaplain must undergo. It is to be lamented,
that gentlemen of an academical education should be subjected to
observe so great a distance from those, over whom in all points of
learning and genius they may have a superiority. Tho' in the very
nature of things this must necessarily happen, yet a high spirit
cannot bear it, and it is with pleasure we can produce Oldham, as one
of those poets who have spurned dependence, and acted consistent with
the dignity of his genius, and the lustre of his profession.
When the earl of Kingston found that Mr. Oldham's spirit was too high
to accept his offer of chaplainship, he then caressed him as a
companion, and gave him an invitation to his house at Holmes-Pierpont,
in Nottinghamshire. This invitation Mr. Oldham accepted, and went into
the country with him, not as a dependant but friend; he considered
himself as a poet, and a clergyman, and in consequence of that, he did
not imagine the earl was in the least degraded by making him his bosom
companion. Virgil was the friend of Mæcenas, and shone in the court of
Augustus, and if it should be observed that Virgil was a greater poet
than Oldham, it may be answered, Mæcenas was a greater man than the
Earl of Kingston, and the court of Augustus much more brilliant than
that of Charles II.
Our author had not been long at the seat of this Earl, before, being
seized with the small pox, he died December 9, 1683, in the 30th year
of his age, and was interred with the utmost decency, his lordship
attending as chief mourner, in the church there, where the earl soon
after erected a monument to his memory.--Mr. Oldham's works were
printed at London 1722, in two volumes 12mo. They chiefly consist of
Satires, Odes, Translations, Paraphrases of Horace, and other authors;
Elegiac Verses, Imitations, Parodies, Familiar Epistles, &c.--Mr.
Oldham was tall of stature, the make of his body very thin, his face
long, his nose prominent, his aspect unpromising, and satire was in
his eye. His constitution was very tender, inclined to a consumption,
and it was not a little injured by his study and application to
learned authors, with whom he was greatly conversant, as appears from
his satires against the Jesuits, in which there is discovered as much
learning as wit. In the second volume of the great historical,
geographical, and poetical Dictionary, he is stiled the Darling of the
Muses, a pithy, sententious, elegant, and smooth writer: "His
translations exceed the original, and his invention seems matchless.
His satire against the Jesuits is of special note; he may be justly
said to have excelled all the satirists of the age." Tho' this
compliment in favour of Oldham is certainly too hyperbolical, yet he
was undoubtedly a very great genius; he had treasured in his mind an
infinite deal of knowledge, which, had his life been prolonged, he
might have produced with advantage, for his natural endowments seem to
have been very great: But he is not more to be reverenced as a Poet,
than for that gallant spirit of Independence he discovered, and that
magnaninity [sic] which scorned to stoop to any servile submissions
for patronage: He had many admirers among his contemporaries, of whom
Mr. Dryden professed himself one, and has done justice to his memory
by some excellent verses, with which we shall close this account.
Farewel too little, and too lately known,
Whom I began to think, and call my own;
For sure our souls were near allied, and thine
Cast in the same poetic mould with mine.
One common note on either lyre did strike,
And knaves and tools were both abhorred alike.
To the same goal did both our studies drive,
The last set out, the soonest did arrive,
Thus Nisus fell upon the slippery place,
While his young friend perform'd and won the race.
O early ripe! to thy abundant store,
What could advancing age have added more?
It might, what nature never gives the young,
Have taught the numbers of thy native tongue.
But satire needs not those, and wit will shine,
Thro' the harsh cadence of a rugged line:
A noble error, and but seldom made,
When poets are by too much force betray'd.
Thy gen'rous fruits, tho' gather'd e'er their prime, }
Still shewed a quickness; and maturing time }
But mellows what we write to the dull sweets of rhime. }
Once more, hail and farewel: Farewel thou young,
But ah! too short, Marcellus of our tongue;
Thy brows with ivy, and with laurels bound,
But fate, and gloomy night encompass thee around.
Footnote:
1. Life of Mr. Oldham, prefixed to his works, vol. i. edit. Lond.
1722.
* * * * *
(DILLON) (WENTWORTH) Earl of ROSCOMMON,
This nobleman was born in Ireland during the lieutenancy of the earl
of Strafford, in the reign of King Charles I. Lord Strafford was his
godfather, and named him by his own surname. He passed some of his
first years in his native country, till the earl of Strafford
imagining, when the rebellion first broke out, that his father who had
been converted by archbishop Usher to the Protestant religion, would
be exposed to great danger, and be unable to protect his family, sent
for his godson, and placed him at his own seat in Yorkshire, under the
tuition, of Dr. Hall, afterwards bishop of Norwich; by whom he was
instructed in Latin, and without learning the common rules of grammar,
which he could never retain in his memory, he attained to write in
that language with classical elegance and propriety, and with so much
ease, that he chose it to correspond with those friends who had
learning sufficient to support the commerce. When the earl of
Strafford was prosecuted, lord Roscommon went to Caen in Normandy, by
the advice of bishop Usher, to continue his studies under Bochart,
where he is said to have had an extraordinary impulse of his father's
death, which is related by Mr. Aubrey in his miscellany, 'Our author
then a boy of about ten years of age, one day was as it were madly
extravagant, in playing, getting over the tables, boards, &c. He was
wont to be sober enough. They who observed him said, God grant this
proves no ill luck to him. In the heat of this extravagant fit, he
cries out my father is dead. A fortnight after news came from Ireland,
that his father was dead. This account I had from Mr. Knowles who was
his governor, and then with him, since secretary to the earl of
Strafford; and I have heard his Lordship's relations confirm the
same.'
The ingenious author of lord Roscommon's life, publish'd in the
Gentleman's Magazine for the month of May, 1748, has the following
remarks on the above relation of Aubrey's.
'The present age is very little inclined to favour any accounts of
this sort, nor will the name of Aubrey much recommend it to credit; it
ought not however to be omitted, because better evidence of a fact is
not easily to be found, than is here offered, and it must be, by
preserving such relations, that we may at least judge how much they
are to be regarded. If we stay to examine this account we shall find
difficulties on both sides; here is a relation of a fact given by a
man who had no interest to deceive himself; and here is on the other
hand a miracle which produces no effect; the order of nature is
interrupted to discover not a future, but only a distant event, the
knowledge of which is of no use to him to whom it is revealed. Between
these difficulties what way shall be found? Is reason or testimony to
be rejected? I believe what Osborne says of an appearance of sanctity,
may be applied to such impulses, or anticipations. "Do not wholly
slight them, because they may be true; but do not easily trust them,
because they may be false."'
Some years after he travelled to Rome, where he grew familiar with the
most valuable remains of antiquity, applying himself particularly to
the knowledge of medals, which he gained in great perfection, and
spoke Italian with so much grace and fluency, that he was frequently
mistaken there for a native. He returned to England upon the
restoration of King Charles the IId, and was made captain of the band
of pensioners, an honour which tempted him to some extravagancies. In
the gaieties of that age (says Fenton) he was tempted to indulge a
violent passion for gaming, by which he frequently hazarded his life
in duels, and exceeded the bounds of a moderate fortune. This was the
fate of many other men whose genius was of no other advantage to them,
than that it recommended them to employments, or to distinction, by
which the temptations to vice were multiplied, and their parts became
soon of no other use, than that of enabling them to succeed in
debauchery.
A dispute about part of his estate, obliging him to return to Ireland,
he resigned his post, and upon his arrival at Dublin, was made captain
of the guards to the duke of Ormond.
When he was at Dublin he was as much as ever distempered with the same
fatal affection for play, which engaged him in one adventure, which
well deserves to be related. 'As he returned to his lodgings from a
gaming table, he was attacked in the dark by three ruffians, who were
employed to assassinate him. The earl defended himself with so much
resolution, that he dispatched one of the aggressors, while a
gentleman accidentally passing that way interposed, and disarmed
another; the third secured himself by flight. This generous assistant
was a disbanded officer of a good family and fair reputation; who by
what we call partiality of fortune, to avoid censuring the iniquities
of the times, wanted even a plain suit of clothes to make a decent
appearance at the castle; but his lordship on this occasion presenting
him to the duke of Ormond, with great importunity prevailed with his
grace that he might resign his post of captain of the guards to his
friend, which for about three years the gentleman enjoyed, and upon
his death, the duke returned the commission to his generous
benefactor.'[1]
His lordship having finished his affairs in Ireland, he returned to
London, was made master of the horse to the dutchess of York, and
married the lady Frances, eldest daughter of the earl of Burlington,
and widow of colonel Courtnay.
About this time, in imitation of those learned and polite assemblies,
with which he had been acquainted abroad; particularly one at Caen,
(in which his tutor Bochartus died suddenly while he was delivering an
oration) he began to form a society for refining and fixing the
standard of our language. In this design, his great friend Mr. Dryden
was a particular assistant; a design, says Fenton, of which it is much
more easy to conceive an agreeable idea, than any rational hope ever
to see it brought to perfection. This excellent design was again set
on foot, under the ministry of the earl of Oxford, and was again
defeated by a conflict of parties, and the necessity of attending only
to political disquisitions, for defending the conduct of the
administration, and forming parties in the Parliament. Since that time
it has never been mentioned, either because it has been hitherto a
sufficient objection, that it was one of the designs of the earl of
Oxford, by whom Godolphin was defeated; or because the statesmen who
succeeded him have not more leisure, and perhaps less taste for
literary improvements. Lord Roscommon's attempts were frustrated by
the commotions which were produced by King James's endeavours to
introduce alterations in religion. He resolved to retire to Rome,
alledging, 'it was best to sit next the chimney when the chamber
smoaked.'
It will, no doubt, surprize many of the present age, and be a just
cause of triumph to them, if they find that what Roscommon and Oxford
attempted in vain, shall be carried into execution, in the most
masterly manner, by a private gentleman, unassisted, and unpensioned.
The world has just reason to hope this from the publication of an
English Dictionary, long expected, by Mr. Johnson; and no doubt a
design of this sort, executed by such a genius, will be a lasting
monument of the nation's honour, and that writer's merit.