“Restless and Still Unsatisfied We Roam”: Politics and Gender in Eliza Haywood’S
Total Page:16
File Type:pdf, Size:1020Kb
“Restless and still Unsatisfied We Roam”: Politics and Gender in Eliza Haywood’s The Fair Captive By Rachel Gould Thesis Submitted to the Faculty of the Graduate School of Vanderbilt University in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of MASTER OF ARTS in English December, 2015 Nashville, Tennessee Approved: Bridget Orr, Ph.D. Mark Wollaeger, Ph.D. On February 21, 1749, an anonymous letter titled “A Criticism on Mahomet and Irene. In a Letter to The Author” appeared in the General Advertiser and critically mocked the subplot in Samuel Johnson’s recent production of Irene: A Tragedy: The first Thing I have to enquire into, is your Scene; which, I think you have plac’d in the Garden of the Seraglio: Nay, in the most private and sequester’d Walks of it; which the Sultan, being deep in Love and fond of Melancholly, had chosen for his own Retirement. This, I think is the Place where your two Grecian Heroes, in Turkish Habits, open the Play; which, I doubt not, amaz’d every Body, to think how they got there: For the Seraglio being a Place so guarded by Slaves, and kept sacred to the Sultan’s Pleasures, how should it be possible two strange Turks (suppose they were really so) durst appear, dress’d in all the Magnificence of the eastern State, in the most retir’d Walks of the Palace Garden, and never be enquir’d after? (6-7) As Johnson’s anonymous critic notes, the Ottoman seraglio had long been privy only to the eyes of the sultan, a space of rumored sensuality that epitomized Ottoman despotism. For a European man to gain entrance was absurdly unthinkable, and yet Johnson’s drama features two such interlopers whose presence leads to chaos and ultimately death.1 Despite Johnson’s seeming departure from the the traditional British view of the Ottoman seraglio, his breach of this sacrosanct space had been anticipated a few decades earlier by Eliza Haywood, whose tragedy, The Fair Captive, similarly introduces a disguised European male character into the sultan’s harem. Staging the long-held fear of British 1 For further information regarding the critical response to Johnon’s Irene, see James Boulton’s Samuel Johnson: The Critical Heritage (2002) and Wendy Belcher’s Abyssinia's Samuel Johnson: Ethiopian Thought in the Making of an English Author (2012). 2 enslavement in an Islamic state, The Fair Captive presents the dramatic scene of a Christian woman held prisoner within the Ottoman court and the ensuing efforts to protect her from rape.2 Haywood’s play diverges from the customary encounter between the virtuous and the aggressor, though, when she also introduces an Ottoman bashaw name Haly, who offers the play’s Christian hero passage into the seraglio: At Dead of Night repair to the Seraglio, Where in Disguise a Slave of mine shall wait, And safely lead the lovely Captive to thee; Then thro a private Garden strait conduct you To the Sea-side unseen, and unsuspected. (I.I.11) 3 Haly’s offer is astonishing, for not only does he suggest that the Christian, Alphonso, can gain entrance into this most intimate and heavily guarded area, indicating a weakness on the part of the sultan, but the Ottoman character also offers assistance into this space, hinting that he will betray either his country or Alphonso. Haly’s offer would have been unimaginable prior to the defeat of the Ottomans in Vienna in 1683. Long a powerful and aggressive neighbor of mainland Europe, the Ottoman empire stood as the epitome of military might and imperial splendor, and yet by 1699, the Treaty of Karlowitz had significantly diminished the Ottoman threat so that a more complex view born of travel narratives, rumors, and Oriental tales began to flourish in the English imagination. These fantasies centered on the seraglio, and as Ruth Yeazell argues, 2 See Linda Colley’s Captives: Britain, Empire, and the World, 1600-1850 (2007) for a discussion of English citizens who found themselves captured while trading with the Barbary states and the English perceptions of such captivity. 3 All quotations come from The Fair Captive printed by T. Jauncy and H. Cole, 1721. All citations will be marked by act, scene, and page number. 3 “As imaginative projections, such harems tell us more about the Europeans who created them than they do about the domestic reality of the East” (8). Indeed, given that many Islamicate plays frequently used this space to demonstrate the absolutism of the Ottoman empire or to represent a conflict between a virtuous woman and a despotic ruler, these projections provided constructs through which authors could comment on the events at home so that political, ideological, and theological structures within England became knowable through Ottoman scenes. 4 Haywood’s tragedy premeired at Lincoln’s Inn Fields on March 4, 1721, during the aftermath of the South Sea crisis, and it echoes the uncertainty of that moment, drawing on Islamicate tropes to represent concerns about politics, gender, and commerce. My reading of the The Fair Captive argues that Haywood wrote it as a political allegory, one that employs the sensual sphere of the harem to criticize the chaos of a globalized financial system as well as the injustices of a patriarchal system that deprived women of public credibility. Connecting public concerns surrounding the absences of George I and the power of his ministry to her own experiences as a female author, Haywood confronts a social order built on systemic speculation that would exchange kings for politicians, money for stocks, and women for power, and she offers feminine constancy as a form of resistance against such substitution, gesturing towards an alternative ideology of internal integrity. The Fair Captive stages the story of a virtuous Christian woman, Isabella, imprisoned within a sultan’s seraglio. In the absence of the sultan, who has journeyed to 4 I am borrowing the term “Islamicate” from Marshall Hodgson. In The Venture of Islam (1975), he argues that this word should be used instead of Islamic when referring not to Islam the religion but to the socially and historically complex culture “distinctive to Islamdom and practiced by both Muslims and non-Muslims” (58). Bernadette Andrea also uses this term to describe the plays of Delarivier Manley and Mary Pix in English Women Staging Islam, 1696-1707 (2012). 4 Constantinople, the power-hungry vizier, Mustafa manages the empire, aided by his ally, Haly, and opposed by two bashaws, Achmet and Ozmin. Although Isabella’s love, Alphonso, seeks to ransom her, Mustafa refuses the payment, intent on seducing Isabella as he has the two Muslim women featured in the play: Daraxa, his former mistress, and Irene, the sultan’s daughter and Mustafa’s wife. Daraxa hides her shame by disguising herself as a eunuch in the seraglio, and she pretends to assist Achmet and Ozmin as they support Alphonso in a rash plot to steal Isabella from the seraglio, a plan that results in Alphonson’s capture. Aware of her husband’s lust for the Christian woman, Irene seeks to outwit Mustafa by removing Isabella from his grasp, but Isabella hazards her virtue to appear before Mustafa in his chambers where she pleads for Alphono’s life and to offer hers in his stead. She is protected from rape by Irene, who had disguised herself as a eunuch and hidden within the chamber. Daraxa, still faithful to Mustafa, reveals the plot to him and commits suicide, and Mustafa murders Irene, unaware of her true identity until after his fatal stab. The play ends with Achmet and Ozmin leading the janissaries in a successful revolt against Mustafa, which frees the two Christians. Doubtful of Isabella’s continued virtue, Alphonso reunites with her after the deposed Mustafa confirms that Isabella does indeed remain virtuous. Haywood’s depiction of an absent sultan and the resulting political instability departs suggestively from the Islamicate plays of Restoration drama. A tradition inaugurated by William Davenant’s The Siege of Rhodes (1656), Islamicate heroic plays represented the concerns of the English state – succession, imperial ambition, and national identity – through scenes of sensual absolutism ruled over by a despotic sultan. London theater companies staged forty such plays from 1660-1714, and many of these were set 5 against an Ottoman backdrop that united the imperial threat that the Ottoman empire posed to Europe with the opportunities that England’s commercial interests in the region provided.5 With England isolated not only geographically but more importantly theologically from mainland Europe after the English Reformation, Elizabeth 1 negotiated a formal trade concession with the Ottoman sultanate in 1580, which led to the formation of the Levant Company. By 1638, the Levant merchants, known as pashas, had established it as England’s leading trade company, and both their imported merchandise and their tales from the caravan trails fed England’s fledgling curiousity in the Ottoman empire.6 One of these pashas, Paul Rycaut, drew from his personal experiences to write The Present State of the Ottoman Empire and General Historie of the Turks, which he published in 1687. This work along with Richard Knolle’s General History of the Turks (1603) and Aaron Hill’s Full and Just Account of the Present State of the Ottoman Empire (1709) presented detailed reports on the region, and Bridget Orr emphasizes that these reports were perceived as authoritative and accurate accounts of Ottoman life (26). By the early eighteenth century, these travel narratives had been joined by the Grub Street translation of Antoine Galland’s Les Mille et une Nuit (1704-1717), and these texts spurred contradictory representations of the Ottoman empire as a hotbed of despotism, eroticism, cruelty, and opulence but also as a site of potential upward mobility and political influence unavailable to most in British society.