An Apology for the Life of Mr. Colley Cibber, Volume 2 (of 2)
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Title: An Apology for the Life of Mr. Colley Cibber, Volume 2 (of 2)
Author: Colley Cibber
Release date: October 29, 2013 [eBook #44065]
Most recently updated: October 23, 2024
Language: English
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Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
A carat character is used to denote superscription. A
single character following the carat is superscripted
(example: y^m). Multiple superscripted characters are
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AN APOLOGY FOR THE LIFE OF
MR. COLLEY CIBBER.
_VOLUME THE SECOND._
_NOTE._
_510 copies printed on this fine deckle-edge demy 8vo
paper for England and America, with the portraits as
India proofs after letters._
_Each copy is numbered, and the type distributed._
_No._ 368
[Illustration: COLLEY CIBBER AS LORD FOPPINGTON.]
AN APOLOGY FOR THE LIFE OF
MR. COLLEY CIBBER
_WRITTEN BY HIMSELF_
A NEW EDITION WITH NOTES AND SUPPLEMENT
BY
ROBERT W. LOWE
_WITH TWENTY-SIX ORIGINAL MEZZOTINT PORTRAITS BY
R. B. PARKES, AND EIGHTEEN ETCHINGS
BY ADOLPHE LALAUZE_
_IN TWO VOLUMES_
VOLUME THE SECOND
LONDON
JOHN C. NIMMO
14, KING WILLIAM STREET, STRAND
MDCCCLXXXIX
Chiswick Press
PRINTED BY CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND CO.
TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE, LONDON, E.C.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER X.
PAGE
THE RECRUITED ACTORS IN THE HAY-MARKET ENCOURAG'D BY A
SUBSCRIPTION, ETC. 1
CHAPTER XI.
SOME CHIMÆRICAL THOUGHTS OF MAKING THE STAGE USEFUL, ETC. 24
CHAPTER XII.
A SHORT VIEW OF THE OPERA WHEN FIRST DIVIDED FROM THE
COMEDY, ETC. 50
CHAPTER XIII.
THE PATENTEE, HAVING NOW NO ACTORS, REBUILDS THE NEW THEATRE
IN LINCOLNS-INN-FIELDS, ETC. 97
CHAPTER XIV.
THE STAGE IN ITS HIGHEST PROSPERITY, ETC. 117
CHAPTER XV.
SIR RICHARD STEELE SUCCEEDS COLLIER IN THE THEATRE-ROYAL,
ETC. 161
CHAPTER XVI.
THE AUTHOR STEPS OUT OF HIS WAY. PLEADS HIS THEATRICAL CAUSE
IN CHANCERY, ETC. 192
SUPPLEMENTARY CHAPTER 257
BIBLIOGRAPHY OF COLLEY CIBBER 289
A BRIEF SUPPLEMENT TO COLLEY CIBBER, ESQ; HIS LIVES OF THE
LATE FAMOUS ACTORS AND ACTRESSES 299
MEMOIRS OF ACTORS AND ACTRESSES 319
LIST OF MEZZOTINT PORTRAITS.
NEWLY ENGRAVED BY R. B. PARKES.
VOLUME THE SECOND.
PAGE
I. COLLEY CIBBER, in the character of "Sir Novelty
Fashion, newley created Lord Foppington," in
Vanbrugh's play of "The Relapse; or, Virtue in
Danger." From the painting by J. Grisoni. The
property of the Garrick Club. _Frontispiece_
II. OWEN SWINEY. After the painting by John Baptist
Vanloo. 54
III. ANNE OLDFIELD. From the picture by Jonathan
Richardson. 70
IV. THEOPHILUS CIBBER, in the character of "Antient
Pistol." 86
V. HESTER SANTLOW (Mrs. Barton Booth). After an
original picture from the life. 104
VI. ROBERT WILKS. After the painting by John Ellys,
1732. 122
VII. RICHARD STEELE. From the painting by Jonathan
Richardson, 1712. 172
VIII. BARTON BOOTH. From the picture by George White. 206
IX. SUSANNA MARIA CIBBER. After a painting by Thomas
Hudson. 222
X. CHARLES FLEETWOOD. "Sir Fopling Flutter Arrested."
"Drawn from a real Scene." John Dixon _ad vivum del
et fect_. 254
XI. ALEXANDER POPE, at the age of 28. After the
picture by Sir Godfrey Kneller, painted in 1716. 272
XII. SUSANNA MARIA CIBBER, in the character of
Cordelia, "King Lear," act iii. After the
picture by Peter Van Bleeck. 288
XIII. CAVE UNDERHILL, in the character of Obadiah,
"The Fanatic Elder." After the picture by Robert
Bing, 1712. 306
LIST OF CHAPTER HEADINGS.
NEWLY ETCHED FROM CONTEMPORARY DRAWINGS BY
ADOLPHE LALAUZE.
VOLUME THE SECOND.
X. SCENE ILLUSTRATING CIBBER'S "CARELESS HUSBAND."
After the picture by Philip Mercier.
XI. COFFEE-HOUSE SCENE OF CIBBER'S DAY, "drawn from
the life" by G. Vander Gucht.
XII. SCENE ILLUSTRATING "THE ITALIAN OPERA," WITH
SENESINO, CUZZONI, &C. From a contemporary design.
XIII. SCENE ILLUSTRATING FARQUHAR'S "RECRUITING OFFICER."
After the picture by Philip Mercier.
XIV. SCENE ILLUSTRATING ADDISON'S "CATO." After the
contemporary design by Lud. du Guernier.
XV. SCENE ILLUSTRATING VANBRUGH AND CIBBER'S "PROVOKED
HUSBAND." After the contemporary design by
J. Vanderbank.
XVI. SCENE ILLUSTRATING VANBRUGH'S "PROVOKED WIFE."
After the contemporary design by Arnold Vanhaecken.
XVII. "THE STAGE MUTINY," with portraits of Theophilus
Cibber as "Antient Pistol," Mrs. Wilks, and others,
in character; Colley Cibber as Poet Laureate, with
his lap filled with bags of money. From a pictorial
satire of the time.
XVIII. ANTHONY ASTON'S "THE FOOL'S OPERA."
AN APOLOGY FOR THE LIFE OF MR. COLLEY CIBBER, &c.
CHAPTER X.
[Illustration: Ad Lalauze, sc]
_The recruited Actors in the_ Hay-Market _encourag'd by a
Subscription_. Drury-Lane _under a particular Management_.
_The Power of a Lord-Chamberlain over the Theatres consider'd.
How it had been formerly exercis'd. A Digression to Tragick
Authors._
Having shewn the particular Conduct of the Patentee in refusing so fair
an Opportunity of securing to himself both Companies under his sole
Power and Interest, I shall now lead the Reader, after a short View of
what pass'd in this new Establishment of the _Hay-Market_ Theatre, to
the Accidents that the Year following compell'd the same Patentee to
receive both Companies, united, into the _Drury-Lane_ Theatre,
notwithstanding his Disinclination to it.
It may now be imagin'd that such a Detachment of Actors from
_Drury-Lane_ could not but give a new Spirit to those in the
_Hay-Market_; not only by enabling them to act each others Plays to
better Advantage, but by an emulous Industry which had lain too long
inactive among them, and without which they plainly saw they could not
be sure of Subsistence. Plays by this means began to recover a good
Share of their former Esteem and Favour; and the Profits of them in
about a Month enabled our new Menager to discharge his Debt (of
something more than Two hundred Pounds) to his old Friend the Patentee,
who had now left him and his Troop in trust to fight their own Battles.
The greatest Inconvenience they still laboured under was the immoderate
Wideness of their House, in which, as I have observ'd, the Difficulty of
Hearing may be said to have bury'd half the Auditors Entertainment. This
Defect seem'd evident from the much better Reception several new Plays
(first acted there) met with when they afterwards came to be play'd by
the same Actors in _Drury-Lane_: Of this Number were the _Stratagem_[1]
and the _Wife's Resentment_;[2] to which I may add the _Double
Gallant_.[3] This last was a Play made up of what little was tolerable
in two or three others that had no Success, and were laid aside as so
much Poetical Lumber; but by collecting and adapting the best Parts of
them all into one Play, the _Double Gallant_ has had a Place every
Winter amongst the Publick Entertainments these Thirty Years. As I was
only the Compiler of this Piece I did not publish it in my own Name;
but as my having but a Hand in it could not be long a Secret, I have
been often treated as a Plagiary on that Account: Not that I think I
have any right to complain of whatever would detract from the Merit of
that sort of Labour, yet a Cobler may be allow'd to be useful though he
is not famous:[4] And I hope a Man is not blameable for doing a little
Good, tho' he cannot do as much as another? But so it is--Twopenny
Criticks must live as well as Eighteenpenny Authors![5]
While the Stage was thus recovering its former Strength, a more
honourable Mark of Favour was shewn to it than it was ever known before
or since to have receiv'd. The then Lord _Hallifax_ was not only the
Patron of the Men of Genius of this Time, but had likewise a generous
Concern for the Reputation and Prosperity of the Theatre, from whence
the most elegant Dramatick Labours of the Learned, he knew, had often
shone in their brightest Lustre. A Proposal therefore was drawn up and
addressed to that Noble Lord for his Approbation and Assistance to raise
a publick Subscription for Reviving Three Plays of the best Authors,
with the full Strength of the Company; every Subscriber to have Three
Tickets for the first Day of each Play for his single Payment of Three
Guineas. This Subscription his Lordship so zealously encouraged, that
from his Recommendation chiefly, in a very little time it was
compleated. The Plays were _Julius Cæsar_ of _Shakespear_; the _King and
no King_ of _Fletcher_, and the Comic Scenes of _Drydens Marriage à la
mode_ and of his _Maiden Queen_ put together;[6] for it was judg'd that,
as these comic Episodes were utterly independent of the serious Scenes
they were originally written to, they might on this occasion be as well
Episodes either to the other, and so make up five livelier Acts between
them: At least the Project so well succeeded, that those comic Parts
have never since been replaced, but were continued to be jointly acted
as one Play several Years after.
By the Aid of this Subscription, which happen'd in 1707, and by the
additional Strength and Industry of this Company, not only the Actors
(several of which were handsomely advanc'd in their Sallaries) were duly
paid, but the Menager himself, too, at the Foot of his Account, stood a
considerable Gainer.
At the same time the Patentee of _Drury-Lane_ went on in his usual Method
of paying extraordinary Prices to Singers, Dancers, and other exotick
Performers, which were as constantly deducted out of the sinking Sallaries
of his Actors: 'Tis true his Actors perhaps might not deserve much more
than he gave them; yet, by what I have related, it is plain he chose not
to be troubled with such as visibly had deserv'd more: For it seems he had
not purchas'd his Share of the Patent to mend the Stage, but to make Money
of it: And to say Truth, his Sense of every thing to be shewn there was
much upon a Level with the Taste of the Multitude, whose Opinion and whose
Money weigh'd with him full as much as that of the best Judges. His Point
was to please the Majority, who could more easily comprehend any thing
they _saw_ than the daintiest things that could be said to them. But in
this Notion he kept no medium; for in my Memory he carry'd it so far that
he was (some few Years before this time) actually dealing for an
extraordinary large Elephant at a certain Sum for every Day he might think
fit to shew the tractable Genius of that vast quiet Creature in any Play
or Farce in the Theatre (then standing) in _Dorset-Garden_. But from the
Jealousy which so formidable a Rival had rais'd in his Dancers, and by his
Bricklayer's assuring him that if the Walls were to be open'd wide enough
for its Entrance it might endanger the fall of the House, he gave up his
Project, and with it so hopeful a Prospect of making the Receipts of the
Stage run higher than all the Wit and Force of the best Writers had ever
yet rais'd them to.[7]
About the same time of his being under this Disappointment he put in
Practice another Project of as new, though not of so bold a Nature;
which was his introducing a Set of Rope-dancers into the same Theatre;
for the first Day of whose Performance he had given out some Play in
which I had a material Part: But I was hardy enough to go into the Pit
and acquaint the Spectators near me, that I hop'd they would not think
it a Mark of my Disrespect to them, if I declin'd acting upon any Stage
that was brought to so low a Disgrace as ours was like to be by that
Day's Entertainment. My Excuse was so well taken that I never after
found any ill Consequences, or heard of the least Disapprobation of it:
And the whole Body of Actors, too, protesting against such an Abuse of
their Profession, our cautious Master was too much alarm'd and
intimidated to repeat it.
After what I have said, it will be no wonder that all due Regards to the
original Use and Institution of the Stage should be utterly lost or
neglected: Nor was the Conduct of this Menager easily to be alter'd
while he had found the Secret of making Money out of Disorder and
Confusion: For however strange it may seem, I have often observ'd him
inclin'd to be cheerful in the Distresses of his Theatrical Affairs, and
equally reserv'd and pensive when they went smoothly forward with a
visible Profit. Upon a Run of good Audiences he was more frighted to be
thought a Gainer, which might make him accountable to others, than he
was dejected with bad Houses, which at worst he knew would make others
accountable to him: And as, upon a moderate Computation, it cannot be
supposed that the contested Accounts of a twenty Year's Wear and Tear in
a Play-house could be fairly adjusted by a Master in Chancery under
four-score Years more, it will be no Surprize that by the Neglect, or
rather the Discretion, of other Proprietors in not throwing away good
Money after bad, this Hero of a Menager, who alone supported the War,
should in time so fortify himself by Delay, and so tire his Enemies,
that he became sole Monarch of his Theatrical Empire, and left the quiet
Possession of it to his Successors.
If these Facts seem too trivial for the Attention of a sensible Reader,
let it be consider'd that they are not chosen Fictions to _entertain_,
but Truths necessary to _inform_ him under what low Shifts and
Disgraces, what Disorders and Revolutions, the Stage labour'd before it
could recover that Strength and Reputation wherewith it began to
flourish towards the latter End of Queen _Anne_'s Reign; and which it
continued to enjoy for a Course of twenty Years following. But let us
resume our Account of the new Settlement in the _Hay-Market_.
It may be a natural Question why the Actors whom _Swiney_ brought over
to his Undertaking in the _Hay-Market_ would tie themselves down to
limited Sallaries? for though he as their Menager was obliged to make
them certain Payments, it was not certain that the Receipts would enable
him to do it; and since their own Industry was the only visible Fund
they had to depend upon, why would they not for that Reason insist upon
their being Sharers as well of possible Profits as Losses? How far in
this Point they acted right or wrong will appear from the following
State of their Case.
It must first be consider'd that this Scheme of their Desertion was all
concerted and put in Execution in a Week's Time, which short Warning
might make them overlook that Circumstance, and the sudden Prospect of
being deliver'd from having seldom more than half their Pay was a
Contentment that had bounded all their farther Views. Besides, as there
could be no room to doubt of their receiving their full Pay previous to
any Profits that might be reap'd by their Labour, and as they had no
great Reason to apprehend those Profits could exceed their respective
Sallaries so far as to make them repine at them, they might think it but
reasonable to let the Chance of any extraordinary Gain be on the Side of
their Leader and Director. But farther, as this Scheme had the
Approbation of the Court, these Actors in reality had it not in their
Power to alter any Part of it: And what induced the Court to encourage
it was, that by having the Theatre and its Menager more immediately
dependent on the Power of the Lord Chamberlain, it was not doubted but
the Stage would be recover'd into such a Reputation as might now do
Honour to that absolute Command which the Court or its Officers seem'd
always fond of having over it.
Here, to set the Constitution of the Stage in a clearer Light, it may
not be amiss to look back a little on the Power of a Lord Chamberlain,
which, as may have been observ'd in all Changes of the Theatrical
Government, has been the main Spring without which no Scheme of what
kind soever could be set in Motion. My Intent is not to enquire how far
by Law this Power has been limited or extended; but merely as an
Historian to relate Facts to gratify the Curious, and then leave them to
their own Reflections: This, too, I am the more inclin'd to, because
there is no one Circumstance which has affected the Stage wherein so
many Spectators, from those of the highest Rank to the Vulgar, have
seem'd more positively knowing or less inform'd in.
Though in all the Letters Patent for acting Plays, _&c._ since King
_Charles_ the _First_'s Time there has been no mention of the Lord
Chamberlain, or of any Subordination to his Command or Authority, yet it
was still taken for granted that no Letters Patent, by the bare Omission
of such a great Officer's Name, could have superseded or taken out of
his Hands that Power which Time out of Mind he always had exercised over
the Theatre.[8] The common Opinions then abroad were, that if the
Profession of Actors was unlawful, it was not in the Power of the Crown
to license it; and if it were not unlawful, it ought to be free and
independent as other Professions; and that a Patent to exercise it was
only an honorary Favour from the Crown to give it a better Grace of
Recommendation to the Publick. But as the Truth of this Question seem'd
to be wrapt in a great deal of Obscurity, in the old Laws made in former
Reigns relating to Players, _&c._ it may be no Wonder that the best
Companies of Actors should be desirous of taking Shelter under the
visible Power of a Lord Chamberlain who they knew had at his Pleasure
favoured and protected or born hard upon them: But be all this as it
may, a Lord Chamberlain (from whencesoever his Power might be derived)
had till of later Years had always an implicit Obedience paid to it: I
shall now give some few Instances in what manner it was exercised.
What appear'd to be most reasonably under his Cognizance was the
licensing or refusing new Plays, or striking out what might be thought
offensive in them: Which Province had been for many Years assign'd to
his inferior Officer, the Master of the Revels; yet was not this License
irrevocable; for several Plays, though acted by that Permission, had
been silenced afterwards. The first Instance of this kind that common
Fame has deliver'd down to us, is that of the _Maid's Tragedy_ of
_Beaumont_ and _Fletcher_, which was forbid in King _Charles_ the
_Second_'s time, by an Order from the Lord Chamberlain. For what Reason
this Interdiction was laid upon it the Politicks of those Days have only
left us to guess. Some said that the killing of the King in that Play,
while the tragical Death of King _Charles_ the _First_ was then so fresh
in People's Memory, was an Object too horribly impious for a publick
Entertainment. What makes this Conjecture seem to have some Foundation,
is that the celebrated _Waller_, in Compliment to that Court, alter'd
the last Act of this Play (which is printed at the End of his Works) and
gave it a new Catastrophe, wherein the Life of the King is loyally
saved, and the Lady's Matter made up with a less terrible Reparation.
Others have given out, that a repenting Mistress, in a romantick Revenge
of her Dishonour, killing the King in the very Bed he expected her to
come into, was shewing a too dangerous Example to other _Evadnes_ then
shining at Court in the same Rank of royal Distinction; who, if ever
their Consciences should have run equally mad, might have had frequent
Opportunities of putting the Expiation of their Frailty into the like
Execution. But this I doubt is too deep a Speculation, or too ludicrous
a Reason, to be relied on; it being well known that the Ladies then in
favour were not so nice in their Notions as to think their Preferment
their Dishonour, or their Lover a Tyrant: Besides, that easy Monarch
loved his Roses without Thorns; nor do we hear that he much chose to be
himself the first Gatherer of them.[9]
The _Lucius Junius Brutus_ of _Nat. Lee_[10] was in the same Reign
silenced after the third Day of Acting it; it being objected that the
Plan and Sentiments of it had too boldly vindicated, and might enflame
republican Principles.
A Prologue (by _Dryden_) to the _Prophetess_ was forbid by the Lord
_Dorset_ after the first Day of its being spoken.[11] This happen'd when
King _William_ was prosecuting the War in _Ireland_. It must be
confess'd that this Prologue had some familiar, metaphorical Sneers at
the Revolution itself; and as the Poetry of it was good, the Offence of
it was less pardonable.
The Tragedy of _Mary_ Queen of _Scotland_[12] had been offer'd to the
Stage twenty Years before it was acted: But from the profound
Penetration of the Master of the Revels, who saw political Spectres in
it that never appear'd in the Presentation, it had lain so long upon the
Hands of the Author; who had at last the good Fortune to prevail with a
Nobleman to favour his Petition to Queen _Anne_ for Permission to have
it acted: The Queen had the Goodness to refer the Merit of his Play to
the Opinion of that noble Person, although he was not her Majesty's Lord
Chamberlain; upon whose Report of its being every way an innocent Piece,
it was soon after acted with Success.
Reader, by your Leave----I will but just speak a Word or two to any
Author that has not yet writ one Line of his next Play, and then I will
come to my Point again----What I would say to him is this--Sir, before
you set Pen to Paper, think well and principally of your Design or chief
Action, towards which every Line you write ought to be drawn, as to its
Centre: If we can say of your finest Sentiments, This or That might be
left out without maiming the Story, you would tell us, depend upon it,
that fine thing is said in a wrong Place; and though you may urge that a
bright Thought is not to be resisted, you will not be able to deny that
those very fine Lines would be much finer if you could find a proper
Occasion for them: Otherwise you will be thought to take less Advice
from _Aristotle_ or _Horace_ than from Poet _Bays_ in the _Rehearsal_,
who very smartly says--_What the Devil is the Plot good for but to bring
in fine things?_ Compliment the Taste of your Hearers as much as you
please with them, provided they belong to your Subject, but don't, like
a dainty Preacher who has his Eye more upon this World than the next,
leave your Text for them. When your Fable is good, every Part of it will
cost you much less Labour to keep your Narration alive, than you will be
forced to bestow upon those elegant Discourses that are not absolutely
conducive to your Catastrophe or main Purpose: Scenes of that kind shew
but at best the unprofitable or injudicious Spirit of a Genius. It is
but a melancholy Commendation of a fine Thought to say, when we have
heard it, _Well! but what's all this to the Purpose?_ Take, therefore,
in some part, Example by the Author last mention'd! There are three
Plays of his, The _Earl_ of _Essex_,[13] _Anna Bullen_,[14] and _Mary
Queen of Scots_, which, tho' they are all written in the most barren,
barbarous Stile that was ever able to keep Possession of the Stage, have
all interested the Hearts of his Auditors. To what then could this
Success be owing, but to the intrinsick and naked Value of the
well-conducted Tales he has simply told us? There is something so happy
in the Disposition of all his Fables; all his chief Characters are
thrown into such natural Circumstances of Distress, that their Misery or
Affliction wants very little Assistance from the Ornaments of Stile or
Words to speak them. When a skilful Actor is so situated, his bare
plaintive Tone of Voice, the Cast of Sorrow from his Eye, his slowly
graceful Gesture, his humble Sighs of Resignation under his Calamities:
All these, I say, are sometimes without a Tongue equal to the strongest
Eloquence. At such a time the attentive Auditor supplies from his own
Heart whatever the Poet's Language may fall short of in Expression, and
melts himself into every Pang of Humanity which the like Misfortunes in
real Life could have inspir'd.
After what I have observ'd, whenever I see a Tragedy defective in its
Fable, let there be never so many fine Lines in it; I hope I shall be
forgiven if I impute that Defect to the Idleness, the weak Judgment, or
barren Invention of the Author.
If I should be ask'd why I have not always my self follow'd the Rules I
would impose upon others; I can only answer, that whenever I have not,
I lie equally open to the same critical Censure. But having often
observ'd a better than ordinary Stile thrown away upon the loose and
wandering Scenes of an ill-chosen Story, I imagin'd these Observations
might convince some future Author of how great Advantage a Fable well
plann'd must be to a Man of any tolerable Genius.
All this I own is leading my Reader out of the way; but if he has as
much Time upon his Hands as I have, (provided we are neither of us
tir'd) it may be equally to the Purpose what he reads or what I write
of. But as I have no Objection to Method when it is not troublesome, I
return to my Subject.
Hitherto we have seen no very unreasonable Instance of this absolute
Power of a Lord Chamberlain, though we were to admit that no one knew of
any real Law, or Construction of Law, by which this Power was given him.
I shall now offer some Facts relating to it of a more extraordinary
Nature, which I leave my Reader to give a Name to.
About the middle of King _William_'s Reign an Order of the Lord
Chamberlain was then subsisting that no Actor of either Company should
presume to go from one to the other without a Discharge from their
respective Menagers[15] and the Permission of the Lord Chamberlain.
Notwithstanding such Order, _Powel_, being uneasy at the Favour _Wilks_
was then rising into, had without such Discharge left the _Drury-Lane_
Theatre and engag'd himself to that of _Lincolns-Inn-Fields_: But by
what follows it will appear that this Order was not so much intended to
do both of them _good_, as to do that which the Court chiefly favour'd
(_Lincolns-Inn-Fields_) no harm.[16] For when _Powel_ grew dissatisfy'd
at his Station there too, he return'd to _Drury-Lane_ (as he had before
gone from it) without a Discharge: But halt a little! here, on this Side
of the Question, the Order was to stand in force, and the same Offence
against it now was not to be equally pass'd over. He was the next Day
taken up by a Messenger and confin'd to the Porter's-Lodge, where, to
the best of my Remembrance, he remain'd about two Days; when the
Menagers of _Lincolns-Inn-Fields_, not thinking an Actor of his loose
Character worth their farther Trouble, gave him up; though perhaps he
was releas'd for some better Reason.[17] Upon this occasion, the next
Day, behind the Scenes at _Drury-Lane_, a Person of great Quality in my
hearing enquiring of _Powel_ into the Nature of his Offence, after he
had heard it, told him, That if he had had Patience or Spirit enough to
have staid in his Confinement till he had given him Notice of it, he
would have found him a handsomer way of coming out of it.
Another time the same Actor, _Powel_, was provok'd at _Will_'s
Coffee-house, in a Dispute about the Playhouse Affairs, to strike a
Gentleman whose Family had been sometimes Masters of it; a Complaint of
this Insolence was, in the Absence of the Lord-Chamberlain, immediately
made to the Vice-Chamberlain, who so highly resented it that he thought
himself bound in Honour to carry his Power of redressing it as far as it
could possibly go: For _Powel_ having a Part in the Play that was acted
the Day after, the Vice-Chamberlain sent an Order to silence the whole
Company for having suffer'd _Powel_ to appear upon the Stage before he
had made that Gentleman Satisfaction, although the Masters of the
Theatre had had no Notice of _Powel_'s Misbehaviour: However, this Order
was obey'd, and remain'd in force for two or three Days, 'till the same
Authority was pleas'd or advis'd to revoke it.[18] From the Measures
this injur'd Gentleman took for his Redress, it may be judg'd how far it
was taken for granted that a Lord-Chamberlain had an absolute Power over
the Theatre.
I shall now give an Instance of an Actor who had the Resolution to stand
upon the Defence of his Liberty against the same Authority, and was
reliev'd by it.
In the same King's Reign, _Dogget_, who tho', from a severe Exactness in
his Nature, he could be seldom long easy in any Theatre, where
Irregularity, not to say Injustice, too often prevail'd, yet in the
private Conduct of his Affairs he was a prudent, honest Man. He
therefore took an unusual Care, when he return'd to act under the Patent
in _Drury-Lane_, to have his Articles drawn firm and binding: But having
some Reason to think the Patentee had not dealt fairly with him, he
quitted the Stage and would act no more, rather chusing to lose his
whatever unsatisfy'd Demands than go through the chargeable and tedious
Course of the Law to recover it. But the Patentee, who (from other
People's Judgment) knew the Value of him, and who wanted, too, to have
him sooner back than the Law could possibly bring him, thought the surer
way would be to desire a shorter Redress from the Authority of the
Lord-Chamberlain.[19] Accordingly, upon his Complaint a Messenger was
immediately dispatch'd to _Norwich_, where _Dogget_ then was, to bring
him up in Custody: But doughty _Dogget_, who had Money in his Pocket and
the Cause of Liberty at his Heart, was not in the least intimidated by
this formidable Summons. He was observ'd to obey it with a particular
Chearfulness, entertaining his Fellow-traveller, the Messenger, all the
way in the Coach (for he had protested against Riding) with as much
Humour as a Man of his Business might be capable of tasting. And as he
found his Charges were to be defray'd, he, at every Inn, call'd for the
best Dainties the Country could afford or a pretended weak Appetite
could digest. At this rate they jollily roll'd on, more with the Air of
a Jaunt than a Journey, or a Party of Pleasure than of a poor Devil in
Durance. Upon his Arrival in Town he immediately apply'd to the Lord
Chief Justice _Holt_ for his _Habeas Corpus_. As his Case was something
particular, that eminent and learned Minister of the Law took a
particular Notice of it: For _Dogget_ was not only discharg'd, but the
Process of his Confinement (according to common Fame) had a Censure
pass'd upon it in Court, which I doubt I am not Lawyer enough to repeat!
To conclude, the officious Agents in this Affair, finding that in
_Dogget_ they had mistaken their Man, were mollify'd into milder
Proceedings, and (as he afterwards told me) whisper'd something in his
Ear that took away _Dogget_'s farther Uneasiness about it.
By these Instances we see how naturally Power only founded on Custom is
apt, where the Law is silent, to run into Excesses, and while it
laudably pretends to govern others, how hard it is to govern itself. But
since the Law has lately open'd its Mouth, and has said plainly that
some Part of this Power to govern the Theatre shall be, and is plac'd in
a proper Person; and as it is evident that the Power of that white
Staff, ever since it has been in the noble Hand that now holds it, has
been us'd with the utmost Lenity, I would beg leave of the murmuring
Multitude who frequent the Theatre to offer them a simple Question or
two, _viz._ Pray, Gentlemen, how came you, or rather your Fore-fathers,
never to be mutinous upon any of the occasional Facts I have related?
And why have you been so often tumultuous upon a Law's being made that
only confirms a less Power than was formerly exercis'd without any Law
to support it? You cannot, sure, say such Discontent is either just or
natural, unless you allow it a Maxim in your Politicks that Power
exercis'd _without_ Law is a less Grievance than the same Power
exercis'd _according_ to Law!
Having thus given the clearest View I was able of the usual Regard paid
to the Power of a Lord-Chamberlain, the Reader will more easily conceive
what Influence and Operation that Power must naturally have in all
Theatrical Revolutions, and particularly in the complete Re-union of
both Companies, which happen'd in the Year following.
CHAPTER XI.
[Illustration: Ad Lalauze, sc]
_Some Chimærical Thoughts of making the Stage useful: Some, to
its Reputation. The Patent unprofitable to all the Proprietors
but one. A fourth Part of it given away to Colonel_ Brett. _A
Digression to his Memory. The two Companies of Actors reunited
by his Interest and Menagement. The first Direction of Operas
only given to Mr._ Swiney.
From the Time that the Company of Actors in the _Hay-Market_ was
recruited with those from _Drury-Lane_, and came into the Hands of their
new Director, _Swiney_, the Theatre for three or four Years following
suffer'd so many Convulsions, and was thrown every other Winter under
such different Interests and Menagement before it came to a firm and
lasting Settlement, that I am doubtful if the most candid Reader will
have Patience to go through a full and fair Account of it: And yet I
would fain flatter my self that those who are not too wise to frequent
the Theatre (or have Wit enough to distinguish what sort of Sights there
either do Honour or Disgrace to it) may think their national Diversion
no contemptible Subject for a more able Historian than I pretend to be:
If I have any particular Qualification for the Task more than another it
is that I have been an ocular Witness of the several Facts that are to
fill up the rest of my Volume, and am perhaps the only Person living
(however unworthy) from whom the same Materials can be collected; but
let them come from whom they may, whether at best they will be worth
reading, perhaps a Judgment may be better form'd after a patient Perusal
of the following Digression.
In whatever cold Esteem the Stage may be among the Wise and Powerful, it
is not so much a Reproach to those who contentedly enjoy it in its
lowest Condition, as that Condition of it is to those who (though they
cannot but know to how valuable a publick Use a Theatre, well
establish'd, might be rais'd) yet in so many civiliz'd Nations have
neglected it. This perhaps will be call'd thinking my own wiser than all
the wise Heads in _Europe_. But I hope a more humble Sense will be given
to it; at least I only mean, that if so many Governments have their
Reasons for their Disregard of their Theatres, those Reasons may be
deeper than my Capacity has yet been able to dive into: If therefore my
simple Opinion is a wrong one, let the Singularity of it expose me: And
tho' I am only building a Theatre in the Air, it is there, however, at
so little Expence and in so much better a Taste than any I have yet
seen, that I cannot help saying of it, as a wiser Man did (it may be)
upon a wiser Occasion:
--_Si quid novisti rectius istis,
Candidus imperti; si non_-- Hor.[20]
Give me leave to play with my Project in Fancy.
I say, then, that as I allow nothing is more liable to debase and
corrupt the Minds of a People than a licentious Theatre, so under a just
and proper Establishment it were possible to make it as apparently the
School of Manners and of Virtue. Were I to collect all the Arguments
that might be given for my Opinion, or to inforce it by exemplary
Proofs, it might swell this short Digression to a Volume; I shall
therefore trust the Validity of what I have laid down to a single Fact
that may be still fresh in the Memory of many living Spectators. When
the Tragedy of _Cato_ was first acted,[21] let us call to mind the noble
Spirit of Patriotism which that Play then infus'd into the Breasts of a
free People that crowded to it; with what affecting Force was that most
elevated of Human Virtues recommended? Even the false Pretenders to it
felt an unwilling Conviction, and made it a Point of Honour to be
foremost in their Approbation; and this, too, at a time when the
fermented Nation had their different Views of Government. Yet the
sublime Sentiments of Liberty in that venerable Character rais'd in
every sensible Hearer such conscious Admiration, such compell'd Assent
to the Conduct of a suffering Virtue, as even _demanded_ two almost
irreconcileable Parties to embrace and join in their equal Applauses of
it.[22] Now, not to take from the Merit of the Writer, had that Play
never come to the Stage, how much of this valuable Effect of it must
have been lost? It then could have had no more immediate weight with the
Publick than our poring upon the many ancient Authors thro' whose Works
the same Sentiments have been perhaps less profitably dispers'd, tho'
amongst Millions of Readers; but by bringing such Sentiments to the
Theatre and into Action, what a superior Lustre did they shine with?
There _Cato_ breath'd again in Life; and though he perish'd in the Cause
of Liberty, his Virtue was victorious, and left the Triumph of it in the
Heart of every melting Spectator. If Effects like these are laudable, if
the Representation of such Plays can carry Conviction with so much
Pleasure to the Understanding, have they not vastly the Advantage of
any other Human Helps to Eloquence? What equal Method can be found to
lead or stimulate the Mind to a quicker Sense of Truth and Virtue, or
warm a People into the Love and Practice of such Principles as might be
at once a Defence and Honour to their Country? In what Shape could we
listen to Virtue with equal Delight or Appetite of Instruction? The Mind
of Man is naturally free, and when he is compell'd or menac'd into any
Opinion that he does not readily conceive, he is more apt to doubt the
Truth of it than when his Capacity is led by Delight into Evidence and
Reason. To preserve a Theatre in this Strength and Purity of Morals is,
I grant, what the wisest Nations have not been able to perpetuate or to
transmit long to their Posterity: But this Difficulty will rather
heighten than take from the Honour of the Theatre: The greatest Empires
have decay'd for want of proper Heads to guide them, and the Ruins of
them sometimes have been the Subject of Theatres that could not be
themselves exempt from as various Revolutions: Yet may not the most
natural Inference from all this be, That the Talents requisite to form
good Actors, great Writers, and true Judges were, like those of wise and
memorable Ministers, as well the Gifts of Fortune as of Nature, and not
always to be found in all Climes or Ages. Or can there be a stronger
modern Evidence of the Value of Dramatick Performances than that in many
Countries where the Papal Religion prevails the Holy Policy (though it
allows not to an Actor Christian Burial) is so conscious of the
Usefulness of his Art that it will frequently take in the Assistance of
the Theatre to give even Sacred History, in a Tragedy, a Recommendation
to the more pathetick Regard of their People. How can such Principles,
in the Face of the World, refuse the Bones of a Wretch the lowest
Benefit of Christian Charity after having admitted his Profession (for
which they deprive him of that Charity) to serve the solemn Purposes of
Religion? How far then is this Religious Inhumanity short of that famous
Painter's, who, to make his _Crucifix_ a Master-piece of Nature, stabb'd
the Innocent Hireling from whose Body he drew it; and having heighten'd
the holy Portrait with his last Agonies of Life, then sent it to be the
consecrated Ornament of an Altar? Though we have only the Authority of
common Fame for this Story, yet be it true or false the Comparison will
still be just. Or let me ask another Question more humanly political.
How came the _Athenians_ to lay out an Hundred Thousand Pounds upon the
Decorations of one single Tragedy of _Sophocles_?[23] Not, sure, as it
was merely a Spectacle for Idleness or Vacancy of Thought to gape at,
but because it was the most rational, most instructive and delightful
Composition that Human Wit had yet arrived at, and consequently the most
worthy to be the Entertainment of a wise and warlike Nation: And it may
be still a Question whether the _Sophocles_ inspir'd this Publick
Spirit, or this Publick Spirit inspir'd the _Sophocles_?[24]
But alas! as the Power of giving or receiving such Inspirations from
either of these Causes seems pretty well at an End, now I have shot my
Bolt I shall descend to talk more like a Man of the Age I live in: For,
indeed, what is all this to a common _English_ Reader? Why truly, as
_Shakespear_ terms it--_Caviare to the Multitude!_[25] Honest _John
Trott_ will tell you, that if he were to believe what I have said of the
_Athenians_, he is at most but astonish'd at it; but that if the
twentieth Part of the Sum I have mentioned were to be apply'd out of the
Publick money to the Setting off the best Tragedy the nicest Noddle in
the Nation could produce, it would probably raise the Passions higher in
those that did Not like it than in those that did; it might as likely
meet with an Insurrection as the Applause of the People, and so, mayhap,
be fitter for the Subject of a Tragedy than for a publick Fund to
support it.----Truly, Mr. _Trott_, I cannot but own that I am very much
of your Opinion: I am only concerned that the Theatre has not a better
Pretence to the Care and further Consideration of those Governments
where it is tolerated; but as what I have said will not probably do it
any great Harm, I hope I have not put you out of Patience by throwing a
few good Wishes after an old Acquaintance.
To conclude this Digression. If for the Support of the Stage what is
generally shewn there must be lower'd to the Taste of common Spectators;
or if it is inconsistent with Liberty to mend that Vulgar Taste by making
the Multitude less merry there; or by abolishing every low and senseless
Jollity in which the Understanding can have no Share; whenever, I say,
such is the State of the Stage, it will be as often liable to unanswerable
Censure and manifest Disgraces. Yet there _was_ a Time, not yet out of
many People's Memory, when it subsisted upon its own rational Labours;
when even Success attended an Attempt to reduce it to Decency; and when
Actors themselves were hardy enough to hazard their Interest in pursuit of
so dangerous a Reformation. And this Crisis I am my self as impatient as
any tir'd Reader can be to arrive at. I shall therefore endeavour to lead
him the shortest way to it. But as I am a little jealous of the badness of
the Road, I must reserve to myself the Liberty of calling upon any Matter
in my way, for a little Refreshment to whatever Company may have the
Curiosity or Goodness to go along with me.
When the sole Menaging Patentee at _Drury-Lane_ for several Years could
never be persuaded or driven to any Account with the Adventurers, Sir
_Thomas Skipwith_ (who, if I am rightly inform'd, had an equal Share
with him[26]) grew so weary of the Affair that he actually made a
Present of his entire Interest in it upon the following Occasion.
Sir _Thomas_ happen'd in the Summer preceding the Re-union of the
Companies to make a Visit to an intimate Friend of his, Colonel _Brett_,
of _Sandywell_, in _Gloucestershire_; where the Pleasantness of the
Place, and the agreeable manner of passing his Time there, had raised
him to such a Gallantry of Heart, that in return to the Civilities of
his Friend the Colonel he made him an Offer of his whole Right in the
Patent; but not to overrate the Value of his Present, told him he
himself had made nothing of it these ten Years: But the Colonel (he
said) being a greater Favourite of the People in Power, and (as he
believ'd) among the Actors too, than himself was, might think of some
Scheme to turn it to Advantage, and in that Light, if he lik'd it, it
was at his Service. After a great deal of Raillery on both sides of
what Sir _Thomas_ had _not_ made of it, and the particular Advantages
the Colonel was likely to make of it, they came to a laughing Resolution
That an Instrument should be drawn the next Morning of an Absolute
Conveyance of the Premises. A Gentleman of the Law well known to them
both happening to be a Guest there at the same time, the next Day
produced the Deed according to his Instructions, in the Presence of whom
and of others it was sign'd, seal'd, and deliver'd to the Purposes
therein contain'd.[27]
This Transaction may be another Instance (as I have elsewhere observed)
at how low a Value the Interests in a Theatrical License were then held,
tho' it was visible from the Success of _Swiney_ in that very Year that
with tolerable Menagement they could at no time have fail'd of being a
profitable Purchase.
The next Thing to be consider'd was what the Colonel should do with his
new Theatrical Commission, which in another's Possession had been of so
little Importance. Here it may be necessary to premise that this
Gentleman was the first of any Consideration since my coming to the
Stage with whom I had contracted a Personal Intimacy; which might be the
Reason why in this Debate my Opinion had some Weight with him: Of this
Intimacy, too, I am the more tempted to talk from the natural Pleasure
of calling back in Age the Pursuits and happy Ardours of Youth long
past, which, like the Ideas of a delightful Spring in a Winter's
Rumination, are sometimes equal to the former Enjoyment of them. I
shall, therefore, rather chuse in this Place to gratify my self than my
Reader, by setting the fairest Side of this Gentleman in view, and by
indulging a little conscious Vanity in shewing how early in Life I fell
into the Possession of so agreeable a Companion: Whatever Failings he
might have to others, he had none to me; nor was he, where he had them,
without his valuable Qualities to balance or soften them. Let, then,
what was not to be commended in him rest with his Ashes, never to be
rak'd into: But the friendly Favours I received from him while living
give me still a Pleasure in paying this only Mite of my Acknowledgment
in my Power to his Memory. And if my taking this Liberty may find Pardon
from several of his fair Relations still living, for whom I profess the
utmost Respect, it will give me but little Concern tho' my critical
Readers should think it all Impertinence.
This Gentleman, then, _Henry_, was the eldest Son of _Henry Brett_, Esq;
of _Cowley_, in _Gloucestershire_, who coming early to his Estate of about
Two Thousand a Year, by the usual Negligences of young Heirs had, before
this his eldest Son came of age, sunk it to about half that Value, and
that not wholly free from Incumbrances. Mr. _Brett_, whom I am speaking
of, had his Education, and I might say, ended it, at the University of
_Oxford_; for tho' he was settled some time after at the _Temple_, he so
little followed the Law there that his Neglect of it made the Law (like
some of his fair and frail Admirers) very often follow _him_. As he had an
uncommon Share of Social Wit and a handsom Person, with a sanguine Bloom
in his Complexion, no wonder they persuaded him that he might have a
better Chance of Fortune by throwing such Accomplishments into the gayer
World than by shutting them up in a Study. The first View that fires the
Head of a young Gentleman of this modish Ambition just broke loose from
Business, is to cut a Figure (as they call it) in a Side-box at the Play,
from whence their next Step is to the _Green Room_ behind the Scenes,
sometimes their _Non ultra_. Hither at last, then, in this hopeful Quest
of his Fortune, came this Gentleman-Errant, not doubting but the fickle
Dame, while he was thus qualified to receive her, might be tempted to fall
into his Lap. And though possibly the Charms of our Theatrical Nymphs
might have their Share in drawing him thither, yet in my Observation the
most visible Cause of his first coming was a more sincere Passion he had
conceived for a fair full-bottom'd Perriwig which I then wore in my first
Play of the _Fool in Fashion_ in the Year 1695.[28] For it is to be noted
that the _Beaux_ of those Days were of a quite different Cast from the
modern Stamp, and had more of the Stateliness of the Peacock in their
Mien than (which now seems to be their highest Emulation) the pert Air of
a Lapwing. Now, whatever Contempt Philosophers may have for a fine
Perriwig, my Friend, who was not to despise the World, but to live in it,
knew very well that so material an Article of Dress upon the Head of a Man
of Sense, if it became him, could never fail of drawing to him a more
partial Regard and Benevolence than could possibly be hoped for in an
ill-made one.[29] This perhaps may soften the grave Censure which so
youthful a Purchase might otherwise have laid upon him: In a Word, he made
his Attack upon this Perriwig, as your young Fellows generally do upon a
Lady of Pleasure, first by a few familiar Praises of her Person, and then
a civil Enquiry into the Price of it. But upon his observing me a little
surprized at the Levity of his Question about a Fop's Perriwig, he began
to railly himself with so much Wit and Humour upon the Folly of his
Fondness for it, that he struck me with an equal Desire of granting any
thing in my Power to oblige so facetious a Customer. This singular
Beginning of our Conversation, and the mutual Laughs that ensued upon it,
ended in an Agreement to finish our Bargain that Night over a Bottle.
If it were possible the Relation of the happy Indiscretions which passed
between us that Night could give the tenth Part of the Pleasure I then
received from them, I could still repeat them with Delight: But as it
may be doubtful whether the Patience of a Reader may be quite so strong
as the Vanity of an Author, I shall cut it short by only saying that
single Bottle was the Sire of many a jolly Dozen that for some Years
following, like orderly Children, whenever they were call'd for, came
into the same Company. Nor, indeed, did I think from that time, whenever
he was to be had, any Evening could be agreeably enjoy'd without
him.[30] But the long continuance of our Intimacy perhaps may be thus
accounted for.
He who can taste Wit in another may in some sort be said to have it
himself: Now, as I always had, and (I bless my self for the Folly)
still have a quick Relish of whatever did or can give me Delight: This
Gentleman could not but see the youthful Joy I was generally raised to
whenever I had the Happiness of a _Tête à tête_ with him; and it may be
a moot Point whether Wit is not as often inspired by a proper Attention
as by the brightest Reply to it. Therefore, as he had Wit enough for any
two People, and I had Attention enough for any four, there could not
well be wanting a sociable Delight on either side. And tho' it may be
true that a Man of a handsome Person is apt to draw a partial Ear to
every thing he says; yet this Gentleman seldom said any thing that might
not have made a Man of the plainest Person agreeable. Such a continual
Desire to please, it may be imagined, could not but sometimes lead him
into a little venial Flattery rather than not succeed in it. And I,
perhaps, might be one of those Flies that was caught in this Honey. As I
was then a young successful Author and an Actor in some unexpected
Favour, whether deservedly or not imports not; yet such Appearances at
least were plausible Pretences enough for an amicable Adulation to
enlarge upon, and the Sallies of it a less Vanity than mine might not
have been able to resist. Whatever this Weakness on my side might be, I
was not alone in it; for I have heard a Gentleman of Condition say, who
knew the World as well as most Men that live in it, that let his
Discretion be ever so much upon its Guard, he never fell into Mr.
_Brett_'s Company without being loth to leave it or carrying away a
better Opinion of himself from it. If his Conversation had this Effect
among the Men; what must we suppose to have been the Consequence when he
gave it a yet softer turn among the Fair Sex? Here, now, a _French_
Novellist would tell you fifty pretty Lies of him; but as I chuse to be
tender of Secrets of that sort, I shall only borrow the good Breeding of
that Language, and tell you in a Word, that I knew several Instances of
his being _un Homme à bonne Fortune_. But though his frequent Successes
might generally keep him from the usual Disquiets of a Lover, he knew
this was a Life too liquorish to last; and therefore had Reflexion
enough to be govern'd by the Advice of his Friends to turn these his
Advantages of Nature to a better use.
Among the many Men of Condition with whom his Conversation had
recommended him to an Intimacy, Sir _Thomas Skipwith_ had taken a
particular Inclination to him; and as he had the Advancement of his
Fortune at Heart, introduced him where there was a Lady[31] who had
enough in her Power to disencumber him of the World and make him every
way easy for Life.
While he was in pursuit of this Affair, which no time was to be lost in
(for the Lady was to be in Town but for three Weeks) I one Day found
him idling behind the Scenes before the Play was begun. Upon sight of
him I took the usual Freedom he allow'd me, to rate him roundly for the
Madness of not improving every Moment in his Power in what was of such
consequence to him. Why are you not (said I) where you know you only
should be? If your Design should once get Wind in the Town, the Ill-will
of your Enemies or the Sincerity of the Lady's Friends may soon blow up
your Hopes, which in your Circumstances of Life cannot be long supported
by the bare Appearance of a Gentleman.----But it is impossible to
proceed without some Apology for the very familiar Circumstance that is
to follow----Yet, as it might not be so trivial in its Effect as I fear
it may be in the Narration, and is a Mark of that Intimacy which is
necessary should be known had been between us, I will honestly make bold
with my Scruples and let the plain Truth of my Story take its Chance for
Contempt or Approbation.
After twenty Excuses to clear himself of the Neglect I had so warmly
charged him with, he concluded them with telling me he had been out all
the Morning upon Business, and that his Linnen was too much soil'd to be
seen in Company. Oh, ho! said I, is that all? Come along with me, we
will soon get over that dainty Difficulty: Upon which I haul'd him by
the Sleeve into my Shifting-Room, he either staring, laughing, or
hanging back all the way. There, when I had lock'd him in, I began to
strip off my upper Cloaths, and bad him do the same; still he either
did not, or would not seem to understand me, and continuing his Laugh,
cry'd, What! is the Puppy mad? No, no, only positive, said I; for look
you, in short, the Play is ready to begin, and the Parts that you and I
are to act to Day are not of equal consequence; mine of young _Reveller_
(in _Greenwich-Park_[32]) is but a Rake; but whatever you may be, you
are not to appear so; therefore take my Shirt and give me yours; for
depend upon't, stay here you shall not, and so go about your Business.
To conclude, we fairly chang'd Linnen, nor could his Mother's have
wrap'd him up more fortunately; for in about ten Days he marry'd the
Lady.[33] In a Year or two after his Marriage he was chosen a Member of
that Parliament which was sitting when King _William_ dy'd. And, upon
raising of some new Regiments, was made Lieutenant-Colonel to that of
Sir _Charles Hotham_. But as his Ambition extended not beyond the Bounds
of a Park Wall and a pleasant Retreat in the Corner of it, which with
too much Expence he had just finish'd, he, within another Year, had
leave to resign his Company to a younger Brother.
This was the Figure in Life he made when Sir _Thomas Skipwith_ thought
him the most proper Person to oblige (if it could be an Obligation) with
the Present of his Interest in the Patent. And from these Anecdotes of
my Intimacy with him, it may be less a Surprise, when he came to Town
invested with this new Theatrical Power, that I should be the first
Person to whom he took any Notice of it. And notwithstanding he knew I
was then engag'd, in another Interest, at the _Hay-Market_, he desired
we might consider together of the best Use he could make of it, assuring
me at the same time he should think it of none to himself unless
it could in some Shape be turn'd to my Advantage. This friendly
Declaration, though it might be generous in him to make, was not needful
to incline me in whatever might be honestly in my Power, whether by
Interest or Negotiation, to serve him. My first Advice, therefore, was,
That he should produce his Deed to the other Menaging Patentee of
_Drury-Lane_, and demand immediate Entrance to a joint Possession of all
Effects and Powers to which that Deed had given him an equal Title.
After which, if he met with no Opposition to this Demand (as upon sight
of it he did not) that he should be watchful against any Contradiction
from his Collegue in whatever he might propose in carrying on the
Affair, but to let him see that he was determin'd in all his Measures.
Yet to heighten that Resolution with an Ease and Temper in his manner,
as if he took it for granted there could be no Opposition made to
whatever he had a mind to. For that this Method, added to his natural
Talent of Persuading, would imperceptibly lead his Collegue into a
Reliance on his superior Understanding, That however little he car'd for
Business he should give himself the Air at least of Enquiry into what
_had_ been done, that what he intended to do might be thought more
considerable and be the readier comply'd with: For if he once suffer'd
his Collegue to seem wiser than himself, there would be no end of his
perplexing him with absurd and dilatory Measures; direct and plain
Dealing being a Quality his natural Diffidence would never suffer him to
be Master of; of which his not complying with his Verbal Agreement with
_Swiney_, when the _Hay-Market_ House was taken for both their Uses, was
an Evidence. And though some People thought it Depth and Policy in him
to keep things often in Confusion, it was ever my Opinion they
over-rated his Skill, and that, in reality, his Parts were too weak for
his Post, in which he had always acted to the best of his Knowledge.
That his late Collegue, Sir _Thomas Skipwith_, had trusted too much to
his Capacity for this sort of Business, and was treated by him
accordingly, without ever receiving any Profits from it for several
Years: Insomuch that when he found his Interest in such desperate Hands
he thought the best thing he could do with it was (as he saw) to give it
away. Therefore if he (Mr. _Brett_) could once fix himself, as I had
advis'd, upon a different Foot with this hitherto untractable Menager,
the Business would soon run through whatever Channel he might have a
mind to lead it. And though I allow'd the greatest Difficulty he would
meet with would be in getting his Consent to a Union of the two
Companies, which was the only Scheme that could raise the Patent to its
former Value, and which I knew this close Menager would secretly lay all
possible Rubs in the way to; yet it was visible there was a way of
reducing him to Compliance: For though it was true his Caution would
never part with a Straw by way of Concession, yet to a high Hand he
would give up any thing, provided he were suffer'd to keep his Title to
it: If his Hat were taken from his Head in the Street, he would make no
farther Resistance than to say, I _am not willing to part with it_. Much
less would he have the Resolution openly to oppose any just Measures,
when he should find one, who with an equal Right to his and with a known
Interest to bring them about, was resolv'd to go thro' with them.
Now though I knew my Friend was as thoroughly acquainted with this
Patentee's Temper as myself, yet I thought it not amiss to quicken and
support his Resolution, by confirming to him the little Trouble he would
meet with, in pursuit of the Union I had advis'd him to; for it must be
known that on our side Trouble was a sort of Physick we did not much
care to take: But as the Fatigue of this Affair was likely to be lower'd
by a good deal of Entertainment and Humour, which would naturally engage
him in his dealing with so exotick a Partner, I knew that this softening
the Business into a Diversion would lessen every Difficulty that lay in
our way to it.
However copiously I may have indulg'd my self in this Commemoration of a
Gentleman with whom I had pass'd so many of my younger Days with Pleasure,
yet the Reader may by this Insight into his Character, and by that of the
other Patentee, be better able to judge of the secret Springs that gave
Motion to or obstructed so considerable an Event as that of the Re-union
of the two Companies of Actors in 1708.[34] In Histories of more weight,
for want of such Particulars we are often deceiv'd in the true Causes of
Facts that most concern us to be let into; which sometimes makes us
ascribe to Policy, or false Appearances of Wisdom, what perhaps in
reality was the mere Effect of Chance or Humour.
Immediately after Mr. _Brett_ was admitted as a joint Patentee, he made
use of the Intimacy he had with the Vice-Chamberlain to assist his
Scheme of this intended Union, in which he so far prevail'd that it was
soon after left to the particular Care of the same Vice-Chamberlain to
give him all the Aid and Power necessary to the bringing what he desired
to Perfection. The Scheme was, to have but one Theatre for Plays and
another for Operas, under separate Interests. And this the generality of
Spectators, as well as the most approv'd Actors, had been some time
calling for as the only Expedient to recover the Credit of the Stage and
the valuable Interests of its Menagers.
As the Condition of the Comedians at this time is taken notice of in my
_Dedication_ of the _Wife's Resentment_ to the Marquis (now Duke) of
_Kent_, and then Lord-Chamberlain, which was publish'd above thirty Years
ago,[35] when I had no thought of ever troubling the World with this
Theatrical History, I see no Reason why it may not pass as a Voucher of
the Facts I am now speaking of; I shall therefore give them in the very
Light I then saw them. After some Acknowledgment for his Lordship's
Protection of our (_Hay-Market_) Theatre, it is further said----
"The Stage has, for many Years, 'till of late, groan'd under
the greatest Discouragements, which have been very much, if
not wholly, owing to the Mismenagement of those that have
aukwardly govern'd it. Great Sums have been ventur'd upon
empty Projects and Hopes of immoderate Gains, and when those
Hopes have fail'd, the Loss has been tyrannically deducted out
of the Actors Sallary. And if your Lordship had not redeem'd
them--_This is meant of our being suffer'd to come over_ to
Swiney----they were very near being wholly laid aside, or, at
least, the Use of their Labour was to be swallow'd up in the
pretended Merit of Singing and Dancing."
What follows relates to the Difficulties in dealing with the then
impracticable Menager, _viz._
"--And though your Lordship's Tenderness of oppressing is so
very just that you have rather staid to convince a Man of your
good Intentions to him than to do him even a Service against
his Will; yet since your Lordship has so happily begun the
Establishment of the separate Diversions, we live in hope that
the same Justice and Resolution will still persuade you to go
as successfully through with it. But while any Man is suffer'd
to confound the Industry and Use of them by acting publickly
in opposition to your Lordship's equal Intentions, under a
false and intricate Pretence of not being able to comply with
them, the Town is likely to be more entertain'd with the
private Dissensions than the publick Performance of either,
and the Actors in a perpetual Fear and Necessity of
petitioning your Lordship every Season for new Relief."
Such was the State of the Stage immediately preceding the time of Mr.
_Brett_'s being admitted a joint Patentee, who, as he saw with clearer
Eyes what was its evident Interest, left no proper Measures unattempted
to make this so long despair'd-of Union practicable. The most apparent
Difficulty to be got over in this Affair was, what could be done for
_Swiney_ in consideration of his being oblig'd to give up those Actors
whom the Power and Choice of the Lord-Chamberlain had the Year before
set him at the Head of, and by whose Menagement those Actors had found
themselves in a prosperous Condition. But an Accident at this time
happily contributed to make that Matter easy. The Inclination of our
People of Quality for foreign Operas had now reach'd the Ears of
_Italy_, and the Credit of their Taste had drawn over from thence,
without any more particular Invitation, one of their capital Singers,
the famous Signior _Cavaliero Nicolini_: From whose Arrival, and
the Impatience of the Town to hear him, it was concluded that Operas
being now so completely provided could not fail of Success, and that
by making _Swiney_ sole Director of them the Profits must be an ample
Compensation for his Resignation of the Actors. This Matter being thus
adjusted by _Swiney_'s Acceptance of the Opera only to be perform'd at
the _Hay-Market_ House, the Actors were all order'd to return to
_Drury-Lane_, there to remain (under the Patentees) her Majesty's only
Company of Comedians.[36]
CHAPTER XII.
[Illustration: Ad Lalauze, sc]
_A short View of the Opera when first divided from the Comedy.
Plays recover their Credit. The old Patentee uneasy at their
Success. Why. The Occasion of Colonel_ Brett'_s throwing up
his Share in the Patent. The Consequences of it. Anecdotes
of_ Goodman _the Actor. The Rate of favourite Actors in his
Time. The Patentees, by endeavouring to reduce their Price,
lose them all a second time. The principal Comedians return to
the_ Hay-Market _in Shares with_ Swiney. _They alter that
Theatre. The original and present Form of the Theatre in_
Drury-Lane _compar'd. Operas fall off. The Occasion of it.
Farther Observations upon them. The Patentee dispossess'd of_
Drury-Lane _Theatre. Mr._ Collier, _with a new License,
heads the Remains of that Company_.
Plays and Operas being thus established upon separate Interests,[37]
they were now left to make the best of their way into Favour by their
different Merit. Although the Opera is not a Plant of our Native Growth,
nor what our plainer Appetites are fond of, and is of so delicate a
Nature that without excessive Charge it cannot live long among us;
especially while the nicest _Connoisseurs_ in Musick fall into such
various Heresies in Taste, every Sect pretending to be the true one:
Yet, as it is call'd a Theatrical Entertainment, and by its Alliance or
Neutrality has more or less affected our Domestick Theatre, a short View
of its Progress may be allow'd a Place in our History.
After this new Regulation the first Opera that appear'd was _Pyrrhus_.
Subscriptions at that time were not extended, as of late, to the whole
Season, but were limited to the first Six Days only of a new Opera. The
chief Performers in this were _Nicolini_, _Valentini_, and Mrs.
_Tofts_;[38] and for the inferior Parts the best that were then to be
found. Whatever Praises may have been given to the most famous Voices that
have been heard since _Nicolini_, upon the whole I cannot but come into
the Opinion that still prevails among several Persons of Condition who are
able to give a Reason for their liking, that no Singer since his Time has
so justly and gracefully acquitted himself in whatever Character he
appear'd as _Nicolini_. At most the Difference between him and the
greatest Favourite of the Ladies, _Farinelli_, amounted but to this, that
he might sometimes more exquisitely surprize us, but _Nicolini_ (by
pleasing the Eye as well as the Ear) fill'd us with a more various and
_rational_ Delight. Whether in this Excellence he has since had any
Competitor, perhaps will be better judg'd by what the Critical Censor of
_Great Britain_ says of him in his 115th _Tatler_, _viz._
"_Nicolini_ sets off the Character he bears in an Opera by his Action,
as much as he does the Words of it by his Voice; every Limb and Finger
contributes to the Part he acts, insomuch that a deaf Man might go along
with him in the Sense of it. There is scarce a beautiful Posture in an
old Statue which he does not plant himself in, as the different
Circumstances of the Story give occasion for it--He performs the most
ordinary Action in a manner suitable to the Greatness of his Character,
and shews the Prince even in the giving of a Letter or dispatching of a
Message, _&c._"[39]
His Voice at this first time of being among us (for he made us a second
Visit when it was impair'd) had all that strong, clear Sweetness of
Tone so lately admir'd in _Senesino_. A blind Man could scarce have
distinguish'd them; but in Volubility of Throat the former had much the
Superiority. This so excellent Performer's Agreement was Eight Hundred
Guineas for the Year, which is but an eighth Part more than half the Sum
that has since been given to several that could never totally surpass
him: The Consequence of which is, that the Losses by Operas, for several
Seasons, to the End of the Year 1738, have been so great, that those
Gentlemen of Quality who last undertook the Direction of them, found it
ridiculous any longer to entertain the Publick at so extravagant an
Expence, while no one particular Person thought himself oblig'd by it.
Mrs. _Tofts_,[40] who took her first Grounds of Musick here in her own
Country, before the _Italian_ Taste had so highly prevail'd, was then
not an Adept in it:[41] Yet whatever Defect the fashionably Skilful
might find in her manner, she had, in the general Sense of her
Spectators, Charms that few of the most learned Singers ever arrive at.
The Beauty of her fine proportion'd Figure, and exquisitely sweet,
silver Tone of her Voice, with that peculiar, rapid Swiftness of her
Throat, were Perfections not to be imitated by Art or Labour.
_Valentini_ I have already mention'd, therefore need only say farther of
him, that though he was every way inferior to _Nicolini_,[42] yet, as he
had the Advantage of giving us our first Impression of a good Opera
Singer, he had still his Admirers, and was of great Service in being so
skilful a Second to his Superior.
[Illustration: OWEN SWINEY.]
Three such excellent Performers in the same kind of Entertainment at
once, _England_ till this Time had never seen: Without any farther
Comparison, then, with the much dearer bought who have succeeded them,
their Novelty at least was a Charm that drew vast Audiences of the fine
World after them. _Swiney_, their sole Director, was prosperous, and in
one Winter a Gainer by them of a moderate younger Brother's Fortune. But
as Musick, by so profuse a Dispensation of her Beauties, could not
always supply our dainty Appetites with equal Variety, nor for ever
please us with the same Objects, the Opera, after one luxurious Season,
like the fine Wife of a roving Husband, began to loose its Charms, and
every Day discover'd to our Satiety Imperfections which our former
Fondness had been blind to: But of this I shall observe more in its
Place: in the mean time, let us enquire into the Productions of our
native Theatre.
It may easily be conceiv'd, that by this entire Re-union of the two
Companies Plays must generally have been perform'd to a more than usual
Advantage and Exactness: For now every chief Actor, according to his
particular Capacity, piqued himself upon rectifying those Errors which
during their divided State were almost unavoidable. Such a Choice of
Actors added a Richness to every good Play as it was then serv'd up to the
publick Entertainment: The common People crowded to them with a more
joyous Expectation, and those of the higher Taste return'd to them as to
old Acquaintances, with new Desires after a long Absence. In a Word, all
Parties seem'd better pleas'd but he who one might imagine had most Reason
to be so, the (lately) sole menaging Patentee. He, indeed, saw his Power
daily mould'ring from his own Hands into those of Mr. _Brett_,[43] whose
Gentlemanly manner of making every one's Business easy to him, threw their
old Master under a Disregard which he had not been us'd to, nor could with
all his happy Change of Affairs support. Although this grave Theatrical
Minister of whom I have been oblig'd to make such frequent mention, had
acquired the Reputation of a most profound Politician by being often
incomprehensible, yet I am not sure that his Conduct at this Juncture gave
us not an evident Proof that he was, like other frail Mortals, more a
Slave to his Passions than his Interest; for no Creature ever seem'd more
fond of Power that so little knew how to use it to his Profit and
Reputation; otherwise he could not possibly have been so discontented, in
his secure and prosperous State of the Theatre, as to resolve at all
Hazards to destroy it. We shall now see what infallible Measures he took
to bring this laudable Scheme to Perfection.
He plainly saw that, as this disagreeable Prosperity was chiefly owing
to the Conduct of Mr. _Brett_, there could be no hope of recovering the
Stage to its former Confusion but by finding some effectual Means to
make Mr. _Brett_ weary of his Charge: The most probable he could for the
Present think of, in this Distress, was to call in the Adventurers (whom
for many Years, by his Defence in Law, he had kept out) now to take care
of their visibly improving Interests.[44] This fair Appearance of Equity
being known to be his own Proposal, he rightly guess'd would incline
these Adventurers to form a Majority of Votes on his Side in all
Theatrical Questions, and consequently become a Check upon the Power of
Mr. _Brett_, who had so visibly alienated the Hearts of his Theatrical
Subjects, and now began to govern without him. When the Adventurers,
therefore, were re-admitted to their old Government, after having
recommended himself to them by proposing to make some small Dividend of
the Profits (though he did not design that Jest should be repeated)
he took care that the Creditors of the Patent, who were then no
inconsiderable Body, should carry off the every Weeks clear Profits in
proportion to their several Dues and Demands. This Conduct, so
speciously just, he had Hopes would let Mr. _Brett_ see that his Share
in the Patent was not so valuable an Acquisition as perhaps he might
think it; and probably make a Man of his Turn to Pleasure soon weary of
the little Profit and great Plague it gave him. Now, though these might
be all notable Expedients, yet I cannot say they would have wholly
contributed to Mr. _Brett_'s quitting his Post, had not a Matter of much
stronger Moment, an unexpected Dispute between him and Sir _Thomas
Skipwith_, prevailed with him to lay it down: For in the midst of this
flourishing State of the Patent, Mr. _Brett_ was surpriz'd with a
Subpoe into Chancery from Sir _Thomas Skipwith_, who alledg'd in his
Bill that the Conveyance he had made of his Interest in the Patent to
Mr. _Brett_ was only intended in Trust. (Whatever the Intent might be,
the Deed it self, which I then read, made no mention of any Trust
whatever.) But whether Mr. _Brett_, as Sir _Thomas_ farther asserted,
had previously, or after the Deed was sign'd, given his Word of Honour
that if he should ever make the Stage turn to any Account or Profit, he
would certainly restore it: That, indeed, I can say nothing to; but be
the Deed valid or void, the Facts that apparently follow'd were, that
tho' Mr. _Brett_ in his Answer to this Bill absolutely deny'd his
receiving this Assignment either in Trust or upon any limited Condition
of what kind soever, yet he made no farther Defence in the Cause. But
since he found Sir _Thomas_ had thought fit on any Account to sue for
the Restitution of it, and Mr. _Brett_ being himself conscious that, as
the World knew he had paid no Consideration for it, his keeping it might
be misconstrued, or not favourably spoken of; or perhaps finding, tho'
the Profits were great, they were constantly swallowed up (as has been
observ'd) by the previous Satisfaction of old Debts, he grew so tir'd of
the Plague and Trouble the whole Affair had given him, and was likely
still to engage him in, that in a few Weeks after he withdrew himself
from all Concern with the Theatre, and quietly left Sir _Thomas_ to
find his better Account in it. And thus stood this undecided Right till,
upon the Demise of Sir _Thomas_, Mr. _Brett_ being allow'd the Charges
he had been at in this Attendance and Prosecution of the Union,
reconvey'd this Share of the Patent to Sir _George Skipwith_, the Son
and Heir of Sir _Thomas_.[45]
Our Politician, the old Patentee, having thus fortunately got rid of Mr.
_Brett_, who had so rashly brought the Patent once more to be a
profitable Tenure, was now again at Liberty to chuse rather to lose all
than not to have it all to himself.
I have elsewhere observ'd that nothing can so effectually secure the
Strength, or contribute to the Prosperity of a good Company, as the
Directors of it having always, as near as possible, an amicable
Understanding with three or four of their best Actors, whose good or
ill-will must naturally make a wide Difference in their profitable or
useless manner of serving them: While the Principal are kept reasonably
easy the lower Class can never be troublesome without hurting
themselves: But when a valuable Actor is hardly treated, the Master must
be a very cunning Man that finds his Account in it. We shall now see how
far Experience will verify this Observation.
The Patentees thinking themselves secure in being restor'd to their
former absolute Power over this now only Company, chose rather to govern
it by the Reverse of the Method I have recommended: For tho' the daily
Charge of their united Company amounted not, by a good deal, to what
either of the two Companies now in _Drury-Lane_ or _Covent-Garden_
singly arises, they notwithstanding fell into their former Politicks of
thinking every Shilling taken from a hired Actor so much clear Gain to
the Proprietor: Many of their People, therefore, were actually, if not
injudiciously, reduced in their Pay, and others given to understand the
same Fate was design'd them; of which last Number I my self was one;
which occurs to my Memory by the Answer I made to one of the
Adventurers, who, in Justification of their intended Proceeding,[46]
told me that my Sallary, tho' it should be less than it was by ten
Shillings a Week, would still be more than ever _Goodman_ had, who was a
better Actor than I could pretend to be: To which I reply'd, This may be
true, but then you know, Sir, it is as true that _Goodman_ was forced to
go upon the High-way for a Livelihood. As this was a known Fact of
_Goodman_, my mentioning it on that Occasion I believe was of Service to
me; at least my Sallary was not reduced after it. To say a Word or two
more of _Goodman_, so celebrated an Actor in his Time, perhaps may set
the Conduct of the Patentees in a clearer Light. Tho' _Goodman_ had left
the Stage before I came to it, I had some slight Acquaintance with him.
About the Time of his being expected to be an Evidence against Sir _John
Fenwick_ in the Assassination-Plot,[47] in 1696, I happen'd to meet him
at Dinner at Sir _Thomas Skipwith_'s, who, as he was an agreeable
Companion himself, liked _Goodman_ for the same Quality. Here it was
that _Goodman_, without Disguise or sparing himself, fell into a
laughing Account of several loose Passages of _his_ younger Life; as his
being expell'd the University of _Cambridge_ for being one of the
hot-headed Sparks who were concern'd in the cutting and defacing the
Duke of _Monmouth_'s Picture, then Chancellor of that Place. But this
Disgrace, it seems, had not disqualified him for the Stage, which, like
the Sea-Service, refuses no Man for his Morals that is able-bodied:
There, as an Actor, he soon grew into a different Reputation; but
whatever his Merit might be, the Pay of a hired Hero in those Days was
so very low that he was forced, it seems, to take the Air (as he call'd
it) and borrow what Money the first Man he met had about him. But this
being his first Exploit of that kind which the Scantiness of his
Theatrical Fortune had reduced him to, King _James_ was prevail'd upon
to pardon him: Which _Goodman_ said was doing him so particular an
Honour that no Man could wonder if his Acknowledgment had carried him a
little farther than ordinary into the Interest of that Prince: But as he
had lately been out of Luck in backing his old Master, he had now no way
to get home the Life he was out upon his Account but by being under the
same Obligations to King _William_.
Another Anecdote of him, though not quite so dishonourably enterprizing,
which I had from his own Mouth at a different Time, will equally shew to
what low Shifts in Life the poor Provision for good Actors, under the
early Government of the Patent, reduced them. In the younger Days of
their Heroism, Captain _Griffin_ and _Goodman_ were confined by their
moderate Sallaries to the Oeconomy of lying together in the same Bed
and having but one whole Shirt between them: One of them being under the
Obligation of a Rendezvous with a fair Lady, insisted upon his wearing
it out of his Turn, which occasion'd so high a Dispute that the Combat
was immediately demanded, and accordingly their Pretensions to it were
decided by a fair Tilt upon the Spot, in the Room where they lay: But
whether _Clytus_ or _Alexander_ was obliged to see no Company till a
worse could be wash'd for him, seems not to be a material Point in their
History, or to my Purpose.[48]
By this Rate of _Goodman_, who, 'till the Time of his quitting the Stage
never had more than what is call'd forty Shillings a Week, it may be
judg'd how cheap the Labour of Actors had been formerly; and the
Patentees thought it a Folly to continue the higher Price, (which their
Divisions had since raised them to) now there was but one Market for
them; but alas! they had forgot their former fatal Mistake of squabbling
with their Actors in 1695;[49] nor did they make any Allowance for the
Changes and Operations of Time, or enough consider the Interest the
Actors had in the Lord Chamberlain, on whose Protection they might
always rely, and whose Decrees had been less restrain'd by Precedent
than those of a Lord Chancellor.
In this mistaken View of their Interest, the Patentees, by treating their
Actors as Enemies, really made them so: And when once the Masters of a
hired Company think not their Actors Hearts as necessary as their Hands,
they cannot be said to have agreed for above half the Work they are able
to do in a Day: Or, if an unexpected Success should, notwithstanding,
make the Profits in any gross Disproportion greater than the Wages, the
Wages will always have something worse than a Murmur at the Head of them,
that will not only measure the Merit of the Actor by the Gains of the
Proprietor, but will never naturally be quiet till every Scheme of getting
into Property has been tried to make the Servant his own Master: And this,
as far as Experience can make me judge, will always be in either of these
Cases the State of our _English_ Theatre. What Truth there may be in this
Observation we are now coming to a Proof of.
To enumerate all the particular Acts of Power in which the Patentees
daily bore hard upon _this_ now only Company of Actors, might be as
tedious as unnecessary; I shall therefore come at once to their most
material Grievance, upon which they grounded their Complaint to the Lord
Chamberlain, who, in the Year following, 1709, took effectual Measures
for their Relief.
The Patentees observing that the Benefit-Plays of the Actors towards the
latter End of the Season brought the most crowded Audiences in the Year,
began to think their own Interests too much neglected by these partial
Favours of the Town to their Actors; and therefore judg'd it would not
be impolitick in such wholesome annual Profits to have a Fellow-feeling
with them. Accordingly an _Indulto_[50] was laid of one Third out of the
Profits of every Benefit for the proper Use and Behoof of the
Patent.[51] But that a clear Judgment may be form'd of the Equity or
Hardship of this Imposition, it will be necessary to shew from whence
and from what Causes the Actors Claim to Benefits originally proceeded.
During the Reign of King _Charles_ an Actor's Benefit had never been
heard of. The first Indulgence of this kind was given to Mrs. _Barry_
(as has been formerly observed[52]) in King _James_'s Time, in
Consideration of the extraordinary Applause that had followed her
Performance: But there this Favour rested to her alone, 'till after the
Division of the only Company in 1695, at which time the Patentees were
soon reduced to pay their Actors half in good Words and half in ready
Money. In this precarious Condition some particular Actors (however
binding their Agreements might be) were too poor or too wise to go to
Law with a Lawyer, and therefore rather chose to compound their Arrears
for their being admitted to the Chance of having them made up by the
Profits of a Benefit-Play. This Expedient had this Consequence; that the
Patentees, tho' their daily Audiences might, and did sometimes mend,
still kept the short Subsistance of their Actors at a stand, and grew
more steady in their Resolution so to keep them, as they found them less
apt to mutiny while their Hopes of being clear'd off by a Benefit were
depending. In a Year or two these Benefits grew so advantageous that
they became at last the chief Article in every Actor's Agreement.
Now though the Agreements of these united Actors I am speaking of in
1708 were as yet only Verbal, yet that made no difference in the honest
Obligation to keep them: But as Honour at that time happen'd to have but
a loose hold of their Consciences, the Patentees rather chose to give it
the slip, and went on with their Work without it. No Actor, therefore,
could have his Benefit fix'd 'till he had first sign'd a Paper
signifying his voluntary Acceptance of it upon the above Conditions, any
Claims from Custom to the contrary notwithstanding. Several at first
refus'd to sign this Paper; upon which the next in Rank were offer'd on
the same Conditions to come before the Refusers; this smart Expedient
got some few of the Fearful the Preference to their Seniors; who, at
last, seeing the Time was too short for a present Remedy, and that they
must either come into the Boat or lose their Tide, were forc'd to comply
with what they as yet silently resented as the severest Injury. In this
Situation, therefore, they chose to let the principal Benefits be over,
that their Grievances might swell into some bulk before they made any
Application for Redress to the Lord-Chamberlain; who, upon hearing their
general Complaint, order'd the Patentees to shew cause why their
Benefits had been diminish'd one Third, contrary to the common Usage?
The Patentees pleaded the sign'd Agreement, and the Actors Receipts of
the other two Thirds, in Full Satisfaction. But these were prov'd to
have been exacted from them by the Methods already mentioned. They
notwithstanding insist upon them as lawful. But as Law and Equity do not
always agree, they were look'd upon as unjust and arbitrary. Whereupon
the Patentees were warn'd at their Peril to refuse the Actors full
Satisfaction.[53] But here it was thought necessary that Judgment should
be for some time respited, 'till the Actors, who had leave so to do,
could form a Body strong enough to make the Inclination of the
Lord-Chamberlain to relieve them practicable.
Accordingly _Swiney_ (who was then sole Director of the Opera only) had
Permission to enter into a private Treaty with such of the united Actors
in _Drury-Lane_ as might be thought fit to head a Company under their
own Menagement, and to be Sharers with him in the _Hay-Market_. The
Actors chosen for this Charge were _Wilks_, _Dogget_, Mrs. _Oldfield_,
and Myself. But before I proceed, lest it should seem surprizing that
neither _Betterton_, Mrs. _Barry_, Mrs. _Bracegirdle_, or _Booth_ were
Parties in this Treaty, it must be observ'd that _Betterton_ was now
Seventy-three, and rather chose, with the Infirmities of Age upon him,
to rely on such Sallary as might be appointed him, than to involve
himself in the Cares and Hurry that must unavoidably attend the
Regulation of a new Company. As to the two celebrated Actresses I have
named, this has been my first proper Occasion of making it known that
they had both quitted the Stage the Year before this Transaction was
thought of.[54] And _Booth_ as yet was scarce out of his Minority as an
Actor, or only in the Promise of that Reputation which, in about four
or five Years after, he happily arriv'd at. However, at this Juncture
he was not so far overlook'd as not to be offer'd a valuable Addition
to his Sallary: But this he declin'd, being, while the Patentees were
under this Distress, as much, if not more, in favour with their chief
Menager as a Schematist than as an Actor: And indeed he appear'd, to
my Judgment, more inclin'd to risque his Fortune in _Drury-Lane_,
where he should have no Rival in Parts or Power, than on any Terms to
embark in the _Hay-Market_, where he was sure to meet with Opponents
in both.[55] However, this his Separation from our Interest when our
All was at stake, afterwards kept his Advancement to a Share with us
in our more successful Days longer postpon'd than otherwise it probably
might have been.
When Mrs. _Oldfield_ was nominated as a joint Sharer in our new
Agreement to be made with _Swiney_, _Dogget_, who had no Objection to
her Merit, insisted that our Affairs could never be upon a secure
Foundation if there was more than one Sex admitted to the Menagement of
them. He therefore hop'd that if we offer'd Mrs. _Oldfield_ a _Carte
Blanche_ instead of a Share, she would not think herself slighted. This
was instantly agreed to, and Mrs. _Oldfield_ receiv'd it rather as a
Favour than a Disobligation: Her Demands therefore were Two Hundred
Pounds a Year certain, and a Benefit clear of all Charges, which were
readily sign'd to. Her Easiness on this Occasion, some Years after, when
our Establishment was in Prosperity, made us with less Reluctancy
advance her Two Hundred Pounds to Three Hundred Guineas _per Annum_,
with her usual Benefit, which, upon an Average, for several Years at
least doubled that Sum.
[Illustration: ANNE OLDFIELD.]
When a sufficient number of Actors were engag'd under our Confederacy with
_Swiney_, it was then judg'd a proper time for the Lord-Chamberlain's
Power to operate, which, by lying above a Month dormant, had so far
recover'd the Patentees from any Apprehensions of what might fall upon
them from their late Usurpations on the Benefits of the Actors, that they
began to set their Marks upon those who had distinguish'd themselves in
the Application for Redress. Several little Disgraces were put upon them,
particularly in the Disposal of Parts in Plays to be reviv'd, and as
visible a Partiality was shewn in the Promotion of those in their
Interest, though their Endeavours to serve them could be of no
extraordinary use. How often does History shew us, in the same State of
Courts, the same Politicks have been practis'd? All this while the other
Party were passively silent, 'till one Day the Actor who particularly
solicited their Cause at the Lord-Chamberlain's Office, being shewn there
the Order sign'd for absolutely silencing the Patentees, and ready to be
serv'd, flew back with the News to his Companions, then at a Rehearsal in
which he had been wanted; when being call'd to his Part, and something
hastily question'd by the Patentee for his Neglect of Business: This
Actor, I say, with an erected Look and a Theatrical Spirit, at once threw
off the Mask and roundly told him----_Sir, I have now no more Business
Here than you have; in half an Hour you will neither have Actors to
command nor Authority to employ them._----The Patentee, who though he
could not readily comprehend his mysterious manner of Speaking, had just a
Glimpse of Terror enough from the Words to soften his Reproof into a cold
formal Declaration, That _if he would not do his Work he should not be
paid_.--But now, to complete the Catastrophe of these Theatrical
Commotions, enters the Messenger with the Order of Silence in his Hand,
whom the same Actor officiously introduc'd, telling the Patentee that the
Gentleman wanted to speak with him from the Lord-Chamberlain. When the
Messenger had delivered the Order, the Actor, throwing his Head over his
Shoulder towards the Patentee, in the manner of _Shakespear_'s _Harry the
Eighth_ to Cardinal _Wolsey_, cry'd--_Read o'er that! and now--to
Breakfast, with what Appetite you may_. Tho' these Words might be spoken
in too vindictive and insulting a manner to be commended, yet, from the
Fulness of a Heart injuriously treated and now reliev'd by that instant
Occasion, why might they not be pardon'd?[56]
The Authority of the Patent now no longer subsisting, all the confederated
Actors immediately walk'd out of the House, to which they never return'd
'till they became themselves the Tenants and Masters of it.
Here agen we see an higher Instance of the Authority of a
Lord-Chamberlain than any of those I have elsewhere mentioned: From
whence that Power might be deriv'd, as I have already said, I am not
Lawyer enough to know; however, it is evident that a Lawyer obey'd it,
though to his Cost; which might incline one to think that the Law was
not clearly against it: Be that as it may, since the Law has lately made
it no longer a Question, let us drop the Enquiry and proceed to the
Facts which follow'd this Order that silenc'd the Patent.
From this last injudicious Disagreement of the Patentees with their
principal Actors, and from what they had suffered on the same Occasion
in the Division of their only Company in 1695, might we not imagine
there was something of Infatuation in their Menagement? For though I
allow Actors in general, when they are too much indulg'd, or govern'd by
an unsteady Head, to be as unruly a Multitude as Power can be plagued
with; yet there is a Medium which, if cautiously observed by a candid
use of Power, making them always know, without feeling, their Superior,
neither suffering their Encroachments nor invading their Rights, with an
immoveable Adherence to the accepted Laws they are to walk by; such a
Regulation, I say, has never fail'd, in my Observation, to have made
them a tractable and profitable Society. If the Government of a
well-establish'd Theatre were to be compar'd to that of a Nation, there
is no one Act of Policy or Misconduct in the one or the other in which
the Menager might not, in some parallel Case, (laugh, if you please) be
equally applauded or condemned with the Statesman. Perhaps this will not
be found so wild a Conceit if you look into the 193d _Tatler_, Vol. 4.
where the Affairs of the State and those of the very Stage which I am
now treating of, are, in a Letter from _Downs_ the Promptor,[57]
compar'd, and with a great deal of Wit and Humour, set upon an equal
Foot of Policy. The Letter is suppos'd to have been written in the last
Change of the Ministry in Queen _Anne_'s Time. I will therefore venture,
upon the Authority of that Author's Imagination, to carry the
Comparison as high as it can possibly go, and say, That as I remember
one of our Princes in the last Century to have lost his Crown by too
arbitrary a Use of his Power, though he knew how fatal the same Measures
had been to his unhappy Father before him, why should we wonder that the
same Passions taking Possession of Men in lower Life, by an equally
impolitick Usage of their Theatrical Subjects, should have involved the
Patentees in proportionable Calamities.
During the Vacation, which immediately follow'd the Silence of the
Patent, both Parties were at leisure to form their Schemes for the
Winter: For the Patentee would still hold out, notwithstanding his
being so miserably maim'd or over-match'd: He had no more Regard to
Blows than a blind Cock of the Game; he might be beaten, but would never
yield; the Patent was still in his Possession, and the Broad-Seal to it
visibly as fresh as ever: Besides, he had yet some Actors in his
Service,[58] at a much cheaper Rate than those who had left him, the
Sallaries of which last, now they would not work for him, he was not
oblig'd to pay.[59] In this way of thinking, he still kept together such
as had not been invited over to the _Hay-Market_, or had been
influenc'd by _Booth_ to follow his Fortune in _Drury-Lane_.
By the Patentee's keeping these Remains of his broken Forces together,
it is plain that he imagin'd this Order of Silence, like others of the
same Kind, would be recall'd, of course, after a reasonable time of
Obedience had been paid to it: But, it seems, he had rely'd too much
upon former Precedents; nor had his Politicks yet div'd into the Secret
that the Court Power, with which the Patent had been so long and often
at variance, had now a mind to take the publick Diversions more
absolutely into their own Hands: Not that I have any stronger Reasons
for this Conjecture than that the Patent never after this Order of
Silence got leave to play during the Queen's Reign. But upon the
Accession of his late Majesty, Power having then a different Aspect, the
Patent found no Difficulty in being permitted to exercise its former
Authority for acting Plays, _&c._ which, however, from this time of
their lying still, in 1709, did not happen 'till 1714, which the old
Patentee never liv'd to see: For he dy'd about six weeks before the
new-built Theatre in _Lincoln's-Inn-Fields_ was open'd,[60] where the
first Play acted was the _Recruiting Officer_, under the Menagement of
his Heirs and Successors. But of that Theatre it is not yet time to give
any further Account.
The first Point resolv'd on by the Comedians now re-established in the
_Hay-Market_,[61] was to alter the Auditory Part of their Theatre, the
Inconveniencies of which have been fully enlarged upon in a former
Chapter. What embarrass'd them most in this Design, was their want of
Time to do it in a more complete manner than it now remains in,
otherwise they had brought it to the original Model of that in
_Drury-Lane_, only in a larger Proportion, as the wider Walls of it
would require; as there are not many Spectators who may remember what
Form the _Drury-Lane_ Theatre stood in about forty Years ago, before
the old Patentee, to make it hold more Money, took it in his Head to
alter it, it were but Justice to lay the original Figure which Sir
_Christopher Wren_ first gave it, and the Alterations of it now
standing, in a fair Light; that equal Spectators may see, if they were
at their choice, which of the Structures would incline them to a
Preference. But in this Appeal I only speak to such Spectators as allow
a good Play well acted to be the most valuable Entertainment of the
Stage. Whether such Plays (leaving the Skill of the dead or living
Actors equally out of the Question) have been more or less recommended
in their Presentation by either of these different Forms of that
Theatre, is our present Matter of Enquiry.
It must be observ'd, then,[62] that the Area or Platform of the old Stage
projected about four Foot forwarder, in a Semi-oval Figure, parallel to
the Benches of the Pit; and that the former lower Doors of Entrance for
the Actors were brought down between the two foremost (and then only)
Pilasters; in the Place of which Doors now the two Stage-Boxes are fixt.
That where the Doors of Entrance now are, there formerly stood two
additional Side-Wings, in front to a full Set of Scenes, which had then
almost a double Effect in their Loftiness and Magnificence.
By this Original Form, the usual Station of the Actors, in almost every
Scene, was advanc'd at least ten Foot nearer to the Audience than they
now can be; because, not only from the Stage's being shorten'd in front,
but likewise from the additional Interposition of those Stage-Boxes, the
Actors (in respect to the Spectators that fill them) are kept so much
more backward from the main Audience than they us'd to be: But when the
Actors were in Possession of that forwarder Space to advance upon, the
Voice was then more in the Centre of the House, so that the most distant
Ear had scarce the least Doubt or Difficulty in hearing what fell from
the weakest Utterance: All Objects were thus drawn nearer to the Sense;
every painted Scene was stronger; every grand Scene and Dance more
extended; every rich or fine-coloured Habit had a more lively Lustre:
Nor was the minutest Motion of a Feature (properly changing with the
Passion or Humour it suited) ever lost, as they frequently must be in
the Obscurity of too great a Distance: And how valuable an Advantage the
Facility of hearing distinctly is to every well-acted Scene, every
common Spectator is a Judge. A Voice scarce raised above the Tone of a
Whisper, either in Tenderness, Resignation, innocent Distress, or
Jealousy suppress'd, often have as much concern with the Heart as the
most clamorous Passions; and when on any of these Occasions such
affecting Speeches are plainly heard, or lost, how wide is the
Difference from the great or little Satisfaction received from them? To
all this a Master of a Company may say, I now receive Ten Pounds more
than could have been taken formerly in every full House! Not unlikely.
But might not his House be oftener full if the Auditors were oftener
pleas'd? Might not every bad House too, by a Possibility of being made
every Day better, add as much to one Side of his Account as it could
take from the other? If what I have said carries any Truth in it, why
might not the original Form of this Theatre be restor'd? but let this
Digression avail what it may, the Actors now return'd to the
_Hay-Market_, as I have observ'd, wanting nothing but length of Time to
have govern'd their Alteration of that Theatre by this original Model of
_Drury-Lane_ which I have recommended. As their time therefore was
short, they made their best use of it; they did something to it: They
contracted its Wideness by three Ranges of Boxes on each side, and
brought down its enormous high Ceiling within so proportionable a
Compass that it effectually cur'd those hollow Undulations of the Voice
formerly complain'd of. The Remedy had its Effect; their Audiences
exceeded their Expectation. There was now no other Theatre open
against them;[63] they had the Town to themselves; they were their own
Masters, and the Profits of their Industry came into their own Pockets.
[Illustration: THEOPHILUS CIBBER AS ANTIENT PISTOL.]
Yet with all this fair Weather, the Season of their uninterrupted
Prosperity was not yet arriv'd; for the great Expence and thinner
Audiences of the Opera (of which they then were equally Directors) was a
constant Drawback upon their Gains, yet not so far but that their Income
this Year was better than in their late Station at _Drury-Lane_. But by
the short Experience we had then had of Operas; by the high Reputation
they seem'd to have been arriv'd at the Year before; by their Power of
drawing the whole Body of Nobility as by Enchantment to their
Solemnities; by that Prodigality of Expence at which they were so
willing to support them; and from the late extraordinary Profits
_Swiney_ had made of them, what Mountains did we not hope from this
Molehill? But alas! the fairy Vision was vanish'd; this bridal Beauty
was grown familiar to the general Taste, and Satiety began to make
Excuses for its want of Appetite: Or, what is still stranger, its late
Admirers now as much valued their Judgment in being able to find out the
Faults of the Performers, as they had before in discovering their
Excellencies. The Truth is, that this kind of Entertainment being so
entirely sensual, it had no Possibility of getting the better of our
Reason but by its Novelty; and that Novelty could never be supported but
by an annual Change of the best Voices, which, like the finest Flowers,
bloom but for a Season, and when that is over are only dead Nose-gays.
From this Natural Cause we have seen within these two Years even
_Farinelli_ singing to an Audience of five and thirty Pounds, and yet,
if common Fame may be credited, the same Voice, so neglected in one
Country, has in another had Charms sufficient to make that Crown sit
easy on the Head of a Monarch, which the Jealousy of Politicians
(who had their Views in his keeping it) fear'd, without some such
extraordinary Amusement, his Satiety of Empire might tempt him a second
time to resign.[64]
There is, too, in the very Species of an _Italian_ Singer such an
innate, fantastical Pride and Caprice, that the Government of them (here
at least) is almost impracticable. This Distemper, as we were not
sufficiently warn'd or apprized of, threw our musical Affairs into
Perplexities we knew not easily how to get out of. There is scarce a
sensible Auditor in the Kingdom that has not since that Time had
Occasion to laugh at the several Instances of it: But what is still more
ridiculous, these costly Canary-Birds have sometimes infested the whole
Body of our dignified Lovers of Musick with the same childish
Animosities: Ladies have been known to decline their Visits upon account
of their being of a different musical Party. _Cæsar_ and _Pompey_ made
not a warmer Division in the _Roman_ Republick than those Heroines,
their Country Women, the _Faustina_ and _Cuzzoni_, blew up in our
Common-wealth of Academical Musick by their implacable Pretensions to
Superiority.[65] And while this Greatness of Soul is their unalterable
Virtue, it will never be practicable to make two capital Singers of the
same Sex do as they should do in one Opera at the same time! no, not
tho' _England_ were to double the Sums it has already thrown after them:
For even in their own Country, where an extraordinary Occasion has
called a greater Number of their best to sing together, the Mischief
they have made has been proportionable; an Instance of which, if I am
rightly inform'd, happen'd at _Parma_, where, upon the Celebration of
the Marriage of that Duke, a Collection was made of the most eminent
Voices that Expence or Interest could purchase, to give as complete an
Opera as the whole vocal Power of _Italy_ could form. But when it came
to the Proof of this musical Project, behold! what woful Work they made
of it! every Performer would be a _Cæsar_ or Nothing; their several
Pretensions to Preference were not to be limited within the Laws of
Harmony; they would all choose their own Songs, but not more to set off
themselves than to oppose or deprive another of an Occasion to shine:
Yet any one would sing a bad Song, provided no body else had a good one,
till at last they were thrown together, like so many feather'd Warriors,
for a Battle-royal in a Cock-pit, where every one was oblig'd to kill
another to save himself! What Pity it was these froward Misses and
Masters of Musick had not been engag'd to entertain the Court of some
King of _Morocco_, that could have known a good Opera from a bad one!
with how much Ease would such a Director have brought them to better
Order? But alas! as it has been said of greater Things,
_Suis et ipsa Roma viribus ruit._
Hor.[66]
Imperial _Rome_ fell by the too great Strength of its own Citizens! So
fell this mighty Opera, ruin'd by the too great Excellency of its
Singers! For, upon the whole, it proved to be as barbarously bad as if
Malice it self had composed it.
Now though something of this kind, equally provoking, has generally
embarrass'd the State of Operas these thirty Years, yet it was the
Misfortune of the menaging Actors at the _Hay-Market_ to have felt the
first Effects of it: The Honour of the Singer and the Interest of the
Undertaker were so often at Variance, that the latter began to have but
a bad Bargain of it. But not to impute more to the Caprice of those
Performers than was really true, there were two different Accidents that
drew Numbers from our Audiences before the Season was ended; which were
another Company permitted to act in _Drury-Lane_,[67] and the long Trial
of Doctor _Sacheverel_ in _Westminster-Hall_:[68] By the way, it must be
observed that this Company was not under the Direction of the Patent
(which continued still silenced) but was set up by a third Interest,
with a License from Court. The Person to whom this new License was
granted was _William Collier_, Esq., a Lawyer of an enterprizing Head
and a jovial Heart; what sort of Favour he was in with the People then
in Power may be judg'd from his being often admitted to partake with
them those detach'd Hours of Life when Business was to give way to
Pleasure: But this was not all his Merit, he was at the same time a
Member of Parliament for _Truro_ in _Cornwall_, and we cannot suppose a
Person so qualified could be refused such a Trifle as a License to head
a broken Company of Actors. This sagacious Lawyer, then, who had a
Lawyer to deal with, observing that his Antagonist kept Possession of a
Theatre without making use of it, and for which he was not obliged to
pay Rent unless he actually _did_ use it, wisely conceived it might be
the Interest of the joint Landlords, since their Tenement was in so
precarious a Condition, to grant a Lease to one who had an undisputed
Authority to be liable, by acting Plays in it, to pay the Rent of it;
especially when he tempted them with an Offer of raising it from three
to four Pounds _per Diem_. His Project succeeded, the Lease was sign'd;
but the Means of getting into Possession were to be left to his own Cost
and Discretion. This took him up but little Time; he immediately laid
Siege to it with a sufficient Number of Forces, whether lawless or
lawful I forget, but they were such as obliged the old Governor to give
it up; who, notwithstanding, had got Intelligence of his Approaches and
Design time enough to carry off every thing that was worth moving,
except a great Number of old Scenes and new Actors that could not easily
follow him.[69]
A ludicrous Account of this Transaction, under fictitious Names, may be
found in the 99th _Tatler_, Vol. 2. which this Explanation may now
render more intelligible to the Readers of that agreeable Author.[70]
This other new License being now in Possession of the _Drury-Lane_
Theatre, those Actors whom the Patentee ever since the Order of Silence
had retain'd in a State of Inaction, all to a Man came over to the
Service of _Collier_. Of these _Booth_ was then the chief.[71] The Merit
of the rest had as yet made no considerable Appearance, and as the
Patentee had not left a Rag of their Cloathing behind him, they were but
poorly equip'd for a publick Review; consequently at their first Opening
they were very little able to annoy us. But during the Trial of
_Sacheverel_ our Audiences were extremely weaken'd by the better Rank of
People's daily attending it: While, at the same time, the lower Sort,
who were not equally admitted to that grand Spectacle, as eagerly
crowded into _Drury-Lane_ to a new Comedy call'd _The fair Quaker of
Deal_. This Play having some low Strokes of natural Humour in it, was
rightly calculated for the Capacity of the Actors who play'd it, and to
the Taste of the Multitude who were now more disposed and at leisure to
see it:[72] But the most happy Incident in its Fortune was the Charm of
the fair Quaker which was acted by Miss _Santlow_, (afterwards Mrs.
_Booth_) whose Person was then in the full Bloom of what Beauty she
might pretend to: Before this she had only been admired as the most
excellent Dancer, which perhaps might not a little contribute to the
favourable Reception she now met with as an Actress, in this Character
which so happily suited her Figure and Capacity: The gentle Softness of
her Voice, the composed Innocence of her Aspect, the Modesty of her
Dress, the reserv'd Decency of her Gesture, and the Simplicity of the
Sentiments that naturally fell from her, made her seem the amiable Maid
she represented: In a Word, not the enthusiastick Maid of _Orleans_ was
more serviceable of old to the _French_ Army when the _English_ had
distressed them, than this fair Quaker was at the Head of that dramatick
Attempt upon which the Support of their weak Society depended.[73]
But when the Trial I have mention'd and the Run of this Play was over,
the Tide of the Town beginning to turn again in our Favour, _Collier_
was reduced to give his Theatrical Affairs a different Scheme; which
advanced the Stage another Step towards that Settlement which, in my
Time, was of the longest Duration.
CHAPTER XIII.
[Illustration: Ad Lalauze, sc]
_The Patentee, having now no Actors, rebuilds the new Theatre
in _Lincolns-Inn-Fields_. A Guess at his Reasons for it. More
Changes in the State of the Stage. The Beginning of its better
Days under the _Triumvirate_ of Actors. A Sketch of their
governing Characters._
As coarse Mothers may have comely Children, so Anarchy has been the
Parent of many a good Government; and by a Parity of possible
Consequences, we shall find that from the frequent Convulsions of the
Stage arose at last its longest Settlement and Prosperity; which many of
my Readers (or if I should happen to have but few of them, many of my
Spectators at least) who I hope have not yet liv'd half their Time, will
be able to remember.
Though the Patent had been often under Distresses, it had never felt
any Blow equal to this unrevoked Order of Silence; which it is not easy
to conceive could have fallen upon any other Person's Conduct than that
of the old Patentee: For if he was conscious of his being under the
Subjection of that Power which had silenc'd him, why would he incur
the Danger of a Suspension by his so obstinate and impolitick Treatment
of his Actors? If he thought such Power over him illegal, how came he
to obey it now more than before, when he slighted a former Order
that injoin'd him to give his Actors their Benefits on their usual
Conditions?[74] But to do him Justice, the same Obstinacy that involv'd
him in these Difficulties, at last preserv'd to his Heirs the Property
of the Patent in its full Force and Value;[75] yet to suppose that he
foresaw a milder use of Power in some future Prince's Reign might be
more favourable to him, is begging at best but a cold Question. But
whether he knew that this broken Condition of the Patent would not make
his troublesome Friends the Adventurers fly from it as from a falling
House, seems not so difficult a Question. However, let the Reader form
his own Judgment of them from the Facts that follow'd: It must
therefore be observ'd, that the Adventurers seldom came near the House
but when there was some visible Appearance of a Dividend: But I could
never hear that upon an ill Run of Audiences they had ever returned or
brought in a single Shilling, to make good the Deficiencies of their
daily Receipts. Therefore, as the Patentee in Possession had alone, for
several Years, supported and stood against this Uncertainty of Fortune,
it may be imagin'd that his Accounts were under so voluminous a
Perplexity that few of those Adventurers would have Leisure or Capacity
enough to unravel them: And as they had formerly thrown away their
Time and Money at law in a fruitless Enquiry into them, they now seem'd
to have intirely given up their Right and Interest: And, according
to my best Information, notwithstanding the subsequent Gains of the
Patent have been sometimes extraordinary, the farther Demands or Claims
of Right of the Adventurers have lain dormant above these five and
twenty Years.[76]
Having shewn by what means _Collier_ had dispossess'd this Patentee, not
only of the _Drury-Lane_ House, but likewise of those few Actors which
he had kept for some time unemploy'd in it, we are now led to consider
another Project of the same Patentee, which, if we are to judge of it by
the Event, has shewn him more a Wise than a Weak Man; which I confess at
the time he put it in Execution seem'd not so clear a Point: For
notwithstanding he now saw the Authority and Power of his Patent was
superseded, or was at best but precarious, and that he had not one Actor
left in his Service, yet, under all these Dilemma's and Distresses, he
resolv'd upon rebuilding the New Theatre in _Lincolns-Inn-Fields_, of
which he had taken a Lease, at a low Rent, ever since _Betterton_'s
Company had first left it.[77] This Conduct seem'd too deep for my
Comprehension! What are we to think of his taking this Lease in the
height of his Prosperity, when he could have no Occasion for it? Was he
a Prophet? Could he then foresee he should, one time or other, be turn'd
out of _Drury-Lane_? Or did his mere Appetite of Architecture urge him
to build a House, while he could not be sure he should ever have leave
to make use of it? But of all this we may think as we please; whatever
was his Motive, he, at his own Expence, in this Interval of his having
nothing else to do, rebuilt that Theatre from the Ground, as it is now
standing.[78] As for the Order of Silence, he seem'd little concern'd at
it while it gave him so much uninterrupted Leisure to supervise a Work
which he naturally took Delight in.
After this Defeat of the Patentee, the Theatrical Forces of _Collier_ in
_Drury-Lane_, notwithstanding their having drawn the Multitude after
them for about three Weeks during the Trial of _Sacheverel_, had made
but an indifferent Campaign at the end of the Season. _Collier_ at least
found so little Account in it, that it obliged him to push his
Court-Interest (which, wherever the Stage was concern'd, was not
inconsiderable) to support him in another Scheme; which was, that in
consideration of his giving up the _Drury-Lane_, Cloaths, Scenes, and
Actors, to _Swiney_ and his joint Sharers in the _Hay-Market_, he
(_Collier_) might be put into an equal Possession of the _Hay-Market_
Theatre, with all the Singers, _&c._ and be made sole Director of the
Opera. Accordingly, by Permission of the Lord Chamberlain, a Treaty was
enter'd into, and in a few Days ratified by all Parties, conformable to
the said Preliminaries.[79] This was that happy Crisis of Theatrical
Liberty which the labouring Comedians had long sigh'd for, and which,
for above twenty Years following, was so memorably fortunate to them.
However, there were two hard Articles in this Treaty, which, though it
might be Policy in the Actors to comply with, yet the Imposition of them
seem'd little less despotick than a Tax upon the Poor when a Government
did not want it.
The first of these Articles was, That whereas the sole License for
acting Plays was presum'd to be a more profitable Authority than that
for acting Operas only, that therefore Two Hundred Pounds a Year should
be paid to _Collier_, while Master of the Opera, by the Comedians; to
whom a verbal Assurance was given by the _Plenipo'_s on the Court-side,
that while such Payment subsisted no other Company should be permitted
to act Plays against them within the Liberties, _&c._ The other Article
was, That on every _Wednesday_ whereon an Opera could be perform'd, the
Plays should, _toties quoties_, be silent at _Drury-Lane_, to give the
Opera a fairer Chance for a full House.
This last Article, however partial in the Intention, was in its Effect
of great Advantage to the sharing Actors: For in all publick
Entertainments a Day's Abstinence naturally increases the Appetite to
them: Our every _Thursday_'s Audience, therefore, was visibly the better
by thus making the Day before it a Fast. But as this was not a Favour
design'd us, this Prohibition of a Day, methinks, deserves a little
farther Notice, because it evidently took a sixth Part of their Income
from all the hired Actors, who were only paid in proportion to the
Number of acting Days. This extraordinary Regard to Operas was, in
effect, making the Day-labouring Actors the principal Subscribers to
them, and the shutting out People from the Play every _Wednesday_ many
murmur'd at as an Abridgment of their usual Liberty. And tho' I was one
of those who profited by that Order, it ought not to bribe me into a
Concealment of what was then said and thought of it. I remember a
Nobleman of the first Rank, then in a high Post, and not out of
Court-Favour, said openly behind the Scenes----_It was shameful to take
part of the Actors Bread from them to support the silly Diversion of
People of Quality_. But alas! what was all this Grievance when weighed
against the Qualifications of so grave and staunch a Senator as
_Collier_? Such visible Merit, it seems, was to be made easy, tho' at
the Expence of the--I had almost said, _Honour_ of the Court, whose
gracious Intention for the Theatrical Common-wealth might have shone
with thrice the Lustre if such a paltry Price had not been paid for it.
But as the Government of the Stage is but that of the World in
Miniature, we ought not to have wonder'd that _Collier_ had Interest
enough to quarter the Weakness of the Opera upon the Strength of the
Comedy. General good Intentions are not always practicable to a
Perfection. The most necessary Law can hardly pass, but a Tenderness to
some private Interest shall often hang such Exceptions upon particular
Clauses, 'till at last it comes out lame and lifeless, with the Loss of
half its Force, Purpose, and Dignity. As, for Instance, how many
fruitless Motions have been made in Parliaments to moderate the enormous
Exactions in the Practice of the Law? And what sort of Justice must that
be call'd, which, when a Man has not a mind to pay you a Debt of Ten
Pounds, it shall cost you Fifty before you can get it? How long, too,
has the Publick been labouring for a Bridge at _Westminster_? But the
Wonder that it was not built a Hundred Years ago ceases when we are
told, That the Fear of making one End of _London_ as rich as the other
has been so long an Obstruction to it:[80] And though it might seem a
still greater Wonder, when a new Law for building one had at last got
over that Apprehension, that it should meet with any farther Delay; yet
Experience has shewn us that the Structure of this useful Ornament to
our Metropolis has been so clogg'd by private Jobs that were to be
pick'd out of the Undertaking, and the Progress of the Work so
disconcerted by a tedious Contention of private Interests and Endeavours
to impose upon the Publick abominable Bargains, that a whole Year was
lost before a single Stone could be laid to its Foundation. But
Posterity will owe its Praises to the Zeal and Resolution of a truly
Noble Commissioner, whose distinguish'd Impatience has broke thro' those
narrow Artifices, those false and frivolous Objections that delay'd it,
and has already began to raise above the Tide that future Monument of
his Publick Spirit.[81]
[Illustration: HESTER SANTLOW.]
How far all this may be allow'd applicable to the State of the Stage is
not of so great Importance, nor so much my Concern, as that what is
observ'd upon it should always remain a memorable Truth, to the Honour
of that Nobleman. But now I go on: _Collier_ being thus possess'd of his
Musical Government, thought his best way would be to farm it out to a
Gentleman, _Aaron Hill_, Esq.[82] (who he had reason to suppose knew
something more of Theatrical Matters than himself) at a Rent, if I
mistake not, of Six Hundred Pounds _per Annum_: But before the Season
was ended (upon what occasion, if I could remember, it might not be
material to say) took it into his Hands again: But all his Skill and
Interest could not raise the Direction of the Opera to so good a Post as
he thought due to a Person of his Consideration: He therefore, the Year
following, enter'd upon another high-handed Scheme, which, 'till the
Demise of the Queen, turn'd to his better Account.
After the Comedians were in Possession of _Drury-Lane_, from whence
during my time upon the Stage they never departed, their Swarm of
Audiences exceeded all that had been seen in thirty Years before; which,
however, I do not impute so much to the Excellence of their Acting as to
their indefatigable Industry and good Menagement; for, as I have often
said, I never thought in the general that we stood in any Place of
Comparison with the eminent Actors before us; perhaps, too, by there
being now an End of the frequent Divisions and Disorders that had from
time to time broke in upon and frustrated their Labours, not a little
might be contributed to their Success.
_Collier_, then, like a true liquorish Courtier, observing the
Prosperity of a Theatre, which he the Year before had parted with for a
worse, began to meditate an Exchange of Theatrical Posts with _Swiney_,
who had visibly very fair Pretensions to that he was in, by his being
first chosen by the Court to regulate and rescue the Stage from the
Disorders it had suffer'd under its former Menagers:[83] Yet _Collier_
knew that sort of Merit could stand in no Competition with his being a
Member of Parliament: He therefore had recourse to his Court-Interest
(where meer Will and Pleasure at that time was the only Law that
dispos'd of all Theatrical Rights) to oblige Swiney to let him be off
from his bad Bargain for a better. To this it may be imagin'd _Swiney_
demurred, and as he had Reason, strongly remonstrated against it: But as
_Collier_ had listed his Conscience under the Command of Interest, he
kept it to strict Duty, and was immoveable; insomuch that Sir _John
Vanbrugh_, who was a Friend to _Swiney_, and who, by his Intimacy with
the People in Power, better knew the Motive of their Actions, advis'd
_Swiney_ rather to accept of the Change, than by a Non-compliance to
hazard his being excluded from any Post or Concern in either of the
Theatres: To conclude, it was not long before _Collier_ had procured a
new License for acting Plays, _&c._ for himself, _Wilks_, _Dogget_, and
_Cibber_, exclusive of _Swiney_, who by this new Regulation was reduc'd
to his _Hobson_'s Choice of the Opera.[84]
_Swiney_ being thus transferr'd to the Opera[85] in the sinking
Condition _Collier_ had left it, found the Receipts of it in the Winter
following, 1711, so far short of the Expences, that he was driven to
attend his Fortune in some more favourable Climate, where he remain'd
twenty Years an Exile from his Friends and Country, tho' there has been
scarce an _English_ Gentleman who in his _Tour_ of _France_ or _Italy_
has not renew'd or created an Acquaintance with him. As this is a
Circumstance that many People may have forgot, I cannot remember it
without that Regard and Concern it deserves from all that know him: Yet
it is some Mitigation of his Misfortune that since his Return to
_England_, his grey Hairs and cheerful Disposition have still found a
general Welcome among his foreign and former domestick Acquaintance.
_Collier_ being now first-commission'd Menager with the Comedians, drove
them, too, to the last Inch of a hard Bargain (the natural Consequence
of all Treaties between Power and Necessity.) He not only demanded six
hundred a Year neat Money, the Price at which he had farm'd out his
Opera, and to make the Business a _Sine-cure_ to him, but likewise
insisted upon a Moiety of the Two hundred that had been levied upon us
the Year before in Aid of the Operas; in all 700_l._ These large and
ample Conditions, considering in what Hands we were, we resolv'd to
swallow without wry Faces; rather chusing to run any Hazard than contend
with a formidable Power against which we had no Remedy: But so it
happen'd that Fortune took better care of our Interest than we ourselves
had like to have done: For had _Collier_ accepted of our first Offer, of
an equal Share with us, he had got three hundred Pounds a Year more by
complying with it than by the Sum he imposed upon us, our Shares being
never less than a thousand annually to each of us, 'till the End of the
Queen's Reign in 1714. After which _Collier_'s Commission was
superseded, his Theatrical Post, upon the Accession of his late Majesty,
being given to Sir _Richard Steele_.[86]
From these various Revolutions in the Government of the Theatre, all
owing to the Patentees mistaken Principle of increasing their Profits by
too far enslaving their People, and keeping down the Price of good
Actors (and I could almost insist that giving large Sallaries to bad
Ones could not have had a worse Consequence) I say, when it is
consider'd that the Authority for acting Plays, _&c._ was thought of so
little worth that (as has been observ'd) Sir _Thomas Skipwith_ gave away
his Share of it, and the Adventurers had fled from it; that Mr.
_Congreve_, at another time, had voluntarily resign'd it; and Sir _John
Vanbrugh_ (meerly to get the Rent of his new House paid) had, by Leave
of the Court, farm'd out his License to _Swiney_, who not without some
Hesitation had ventur'd upon it; let me say again, out of this low
Condition of the Theatre, was it not owing to the Industry of three or
four Comedians that a new Place was now created for the Crown to give
away, without any Expence attending it, well worth the Acceptance of any
Gentleman whose Merit or Services had no higher Claim to Preferment, and
which _Collier_ and Sir _Richard Steele_, in the two last Reigns,
successively enjoy'd? Tho' I believe I may have said something like this
in a former Chapter,[87] I am not unwilling it should be twice taken
notice of.
We are now come to that firm Establishment of the Theatre, which, except
the Admittance of _Booth_ into a Share and _Dogget_'s retiring from it,
met with no Change or Alteration for above twenty Years after.
_Collier_, as has been said, having accepted of a certain Appointment of
seven hundred _per Annum_, _Wilks_, _Dogget_, and Myself were now the
only acting Menagers under the Queen's License; which being a Grant but
during Pleasure oblig'd us to a Conduct that might not undeserve that
Favour. At this Time we were All in the Vigour of our Capacities as
Actors, and our Prosperity enabled us to pay at least double the
Sallaries to what the same Actors had usually receiv'd, or could have
hoped for under the Government of the Patentees. _Dogget_, who was
naturally an Oeconomist, kept our Expences and Accounts to the best of
his Power within regulated Bounds and Moderation. _Wilks_, who had a
stronger Passion for Glory than Lucre, was a little apt to be lavish in
what was not always as necessary for the Profit as the Honour of the
Theatre: For example, at the Beginning of almost every Season, he would
order two or three Suits to be made or refresh'd for Actors of moderate
Consequence, that his having constantly a new one for himself might seem
less particular, tho' he had as yet no new Part for it. This expeditious
Care of doing us good without waiting for our Consent to it, _Dogget_
always look'd upon with the Eye of a Man in Pain: But I, who hated Pain,
(tho' I as little liked the Favour as _Dogget_ himself) rather chose to
laugh at the Circumstance, than complain of what I knew was not to be
cured but by a Remedy worse than the Evil. Upon these Occasions,
therefore, whenever I saw him and his Followers so prettily dress'd out
for an old Play, I only commended his Fancy; or at most but whisper'd
him not to give himself so much trouble about others, upon whose
Performance it would but be thrown away: To which, with a smiling Air of
Triumph over my want of Penetration, he has reply'd--Why, now, that was
what I really did it for! to shew others that I love to take care of
them as well as of myself. Thus, whenever he made himself easy, he had
not the least Conception, let the Expence be what it would, that we
could possibly dislike it. And from the same Principle, provided a
thinner Audience were liberal of their Applause, he gave himself little
Concern about the Receipt of it. As in these different Tempers of my
Brother-Menagers there might be equally something right and wrong, it
was equally my Business to keep well with them both: And tho' of the two
I was rather inclin'd to _Dogget_'s way of thinking, yet I was always
under the disagreeable Restraint of not letting _Wilks_ see it:
Therefore, when in any material Point of Menagement they were ready to
come to a Rupture, I found it adviseable to think neither of them
absolutely in the wrong; but by giving to one as much of the Right in
his Opinion this way as I took from the other in that, their Differences
were sometimes soft'ned into Concessions, that I have reason to think
prevented many ill Consequences in our Affairs that otherwise might have
attended them. But this was always to be done with a very gentle Hand;
for as _Wilks_ was apt to be easily hurt by Opposition, so when he felt
it he was as apt to be insupportable. However, there were some Points in
which we were always unanimous. In the twenty Years while we were our
own Directors, we never had a Creditor that had occasion to come twice
for his Bill; every _Monday_ Morning discharged us of all Demands before
we took a Shilling for our own Use. And from this time we neither ask'd
any Actor, nor were desired by them, to sign any written Agreement (to
the best of my Memory) whatsoever: The Rate of their respective
Sallaries were only enter'd in our daily Pay-Roll; which plain Record
every one look'd upon as good as City-Security: For where an honest
Meaning is mutual, the mutual Confidence will be Bond enough in
Conscience on both sides: But that I may not ascribe more to our Conduct
than was really its Due, I ought to give Fortune her Share of the
Commendation; for had not our Success exceeded our Expectation, it might
not have been in our Power so thoroughly to have observ'd those laudable
Rules of Oeconomy, Justice, and Lenity, which so happily supported us:
But the Severities and Oppression we had suffer'd under our former
Masters made us incapable of imposing them on others; which gave
our whole Society the cheerful Looks of a rescued People. But
notwithstanding this general Cause of Content, it was not above a Year
or two before the Imperfection of human Nature began to shew itself in
contrary Symptoms. The Merit of the Hazards which the Menagers had run,
and the Difficulties they had combated in bringing to Perfection that
Revolution by which they had all so amply profited in the Amendment of
their general Income, began now to be forgotten; their Acknowledgments
and thankful Promises of Fidelity were no more repeated, or scarce
thought obligatory: Ease and Plenty by an habitual Enjoyment had lost
their Novelty, and the Largeness of their Sallaries seem'd rather
lessen'd than advanc'd by the extraordinary Gains of the Undertakers;
for that is the Scale in which the hired Actor will always weigh his
Performance; but whatever Reason there may seem to be in his Case, yet,
as he is frequently apt to throw a little Self-partiality into the
Balance, that Consideration may a good deal alter the Justness of it.
While the Actors, therefore, had this way of thinking, happy was it for
the Menagers that their united Interest was so inseparably the same, and
that their Skill and Power in Acting stood in a Rank so far above the
rest, that if the whole Body of private Men had deserted them, it would
yet have been an easier matter for the Menagers to have pick'd up
Recruits, than for the Deserters to have found proper Officers to head
them. Here, then, in this Distinction lay our Security: Our being Actors
ourselves was an Advantage to our Government which all former Menagers,
who were only idle Gentlemen, wanted: Nor was our Establishment easily
to be broken, while our Health and Limbs enabled us to be
Joint-labourers in the Work we were Masters of.
The only Actor who, in the Opinion of the Publick, seem'd to have had a
Pretence of being advanc'd to a Share with us was certainly _Booth_: But
when it is consider'd how strongly he had oppos'd the Measures that had
made us Menagers, by setting himself (as has been observ'd) at the Head
of an opposite Interest,[88] he could not as yet have much to complain
of: Beside, if the Court had thought him, now, an equal Object of
Favour, it could not have been in our Power to have oppos'd his
Preferment: This I mention, not to take from his Merit, but to shew from
what Cause it was not as yet better provided for. Therefore it may be no
Vanity to say, our having at that time no visible Competitors on the
Stage was the only Interest that rais'd us to be the Menagers of it.
But here let me rest a while, and since at my time of Day our best
Possessions are but Ease and Quiet, I must be content, if I will have
Sallies of Pleasure, to take up with those only that are to be found in
Imagination. When I look back, therefore, on the Storms of the Stage we
had been toss'd in; when I consider that various Vicissitude of Hopes
and Fears we had for twenty Years struggled with, and found ourselves at
last thus safely set on Shore to enjoy the Produce of our own Labours,
and to have rais'd those Labours by our Skill and Industry to a much
fairer Profit, than our Task-masters by all their severe and griping
Government had ever reap'd from them, a good-natur'd Reader, that is not
offended at the Comparison of great things with small, will allow was a
Triumph in proportion equal to those that have attended the most heroick
Enterprizes for Liberty! What Transport could the first _Brutus_ feel
upon his Expulsion of the _Tarquins_ greater than that which now danc'd
in the Heart of a poor Actor, who, from an injur'd Labourer, unpaid his
Hire, had made himself, without Guilt, a legal Menager of his own
Fortune? Let the Grave and Great contemn or yawn at these low Conceits,
but let me be happy in the Enjoyment of them! To this Hour my Memory
runs o'er that pleasing Prospect of Life past with little less Delight
than when I was first in the real Possession of it. This is the natural
Temper of my Mind, which my Acquaintance are frequently Witnesses of:
And as this was all the Ambition Providence had made my obscure
Condition capable of, I am thankful that Means were given me to enjoy
the Fruits of it.
----_Hoc est
Vivere bìs, vitâ; posse priore frui._[89]
Something like the Meaning of this the less learned Reader may find in
my Title Page.
CHAPTER XIV.
[Illustration: Ad Lalauze, sc]
_The Stage in its highest Prosperity. The Menagers not without
Errors. Of what Kind._ Cato _first acted. What brought it to
the Stage. The Company go to _Oxford_. Their Success and
different Auditors there. _Booth_ made a Sharer. _Dogget_
objects to him. Quits the Stage upon his Admittance. That not
his true Reason. What was. _Dogget_'s Theatrical Character._
Notwithstanding the Menaging Actors were now in a happier Situation
than their utmost Pretensions could have expected, yet it is not to
be suppos'd but wiser Men might have mended it. As we could not all
govern our selves, there were Seasons when we were not all fit to
govern others. Our Passions and our Interest drew not always the same
way. _Self_ had a great Sway in our Debates: We had our Partialities;
our Prejudices; our Favourites of less Merit; and our Jealousies of
those who came too near us; Frailties which Societies of higher
Consideration, while they are compos'd of Men, will not always be free
from. To have been constantly capable of Unanimity had been a Blessing
too great for our Station: One Mind among three People were to have had
three Masters to one Servant; but when that one Servant is called three
different ways at the same time, whose Business is to be done first? For
my own Part, I was forced almost all my Life to give up my Share of him.
And if I could, by Art or Persuasion, hinder others from making what I
thought a wrong use of their Power, it was the All and utmost I desired.
Yet, whatever might be our Personal Errors, I shall think I have no
Right to speak of them farther than where the Publick Entertainment was
affected by them. If therefore, among so many, some particular Actors
were remarkable in any part of their private Lives, that might sometimes
make the World merry without Doors, I hope my laughing Friends will
excuse me if I do not so far comply with their Desires or Curiosity as
to give them a Place in my History. I can only recommend such Anecdotes
to the Amusement of a Noble Person, who (in case I conceal them) does me
the flattering Honour to threaten my Work with a Supplement. 'Tis enough
for me that such Actors had their Merits to the Publick: Let those
recite their Imperfections who are themselves without them: It is my
Misfortune not to have that Qualification. Let us see then (whatever was
amiss in it) how our Administration went forward.
When we were first invested with this Power, the Joy of our so
unexpectedly coming into it kept us for some time in Amity and
Good-Humour with one another: And the Pleasure of reforming the many
false Measures, Absurdities, and Abuses, that, like Weeds, had suck'd up
the due Nourishment from the Fruits of the Theatre, gave us as yet no
leisure for private Dissentions. Our daily Receipts exceeded our
Imagination: And we seldom met as a Board to settle our weekly Accounts
without the Satisfaction of Joint-Heirs just in Possession of an
unexpected Estate that had been distantly intail'd upon them. Such a
sudden Change of our Condition it may be imagin'd could not but throw
out of us a new Spirit in almost every Play we appear'd in: Nor did
we ever sink into that common Negligence which is apt to follow
Good-fortune: Industry we knew was the Life of our Business; that
it not only conceal'd Faults, but was of equal Value to greater Talents
without it; which the Decadence once of _Betterton_'s Company in
_Lincoln's-Inn-Fields_ had lately shewn us a Proof of.
This then was that happy Period, when both Actors and Menagers were
in their highest Enjoyment of general Content and Prosperity. Now it
was that the politer World, too, by their decent Attention, their
sensible Taste, and their generous Encouragements to Authors and
Actors, once more saw that the Stage, under a due Regulation, was
capable of being what the wisest Ages thought it _might_ be, The
most rational Scheme that Human Wit could form to dissipate with
Innocence the Cares of Life, to allure even the Turbulent or
Ill-disposed from worse Meditations, and to give the leisure Hours
of Business and Virtue an instructive Recreation.
If this grave Assertion is less recommended by falling from the Pen of a
Comedian, I must appeal for the Truth of it to the Tragedy of _Cato_,
which was first acted in 1712.[90] I submit to the Judgment of those who
were then the sensible Spectators of it, if the Success and Merit of
that Play was not an Evidence of every Article of that Value which I
have given to a decent Theatre? But (as I was observing) it could not be
expected the Summer Days I am speaking of could be the constant Weather
of the Year; we had our clouded Hours as well as our sun-shine, and were
not always in the same Good-Humour with one another: Fire, Air, and
Water could not be more vexatiously opposite than the different Tempers
of the Three Menagers, though they might equally have their useful as
well as their destructive Qualities. How variously these Elements in our
several Dispositions operated may be judged from the following single
Instance, as well as a thousand others, which, if they were all to be
told, might possibly make my Reader wish I had forgot them.
Much about this time, then, there came over from _Dublin_ Theatre two
uncelebrated Actors to pick up a few Pence among us in the Winter, as
_Wilks_ had a Year or two before done on their side the Water in the
Summer.[91] But it was not so clear to _Dogget_ and myself that it was
in their Power to do us the same Service in _Drury-Lane_ as _Wilks_
might have done them in _Dublin_. However, _Wilks_ was so much a Man of
Honour that he scorned to be outdone in the least Point of it, let the
Cost be what it would to his Fellow-Menagers, who had no particular
Accounts of Honour open with them. To acquit himself therefore with a
better Grace, _Wilks_ so order'd it, that his _Hibernian_ Friends were
got upon our Stage before any other Menager had well heard of their
Arrival. This so generous Dispatch of their Affair gave _Wilks_ a very
good Chance of convincing his Friends that Himself was sole Master of
the Masters of the Company. Here, now, the different Elements in our
Tempers began to work with us. While _Wilks_ was only animated by a
grateful Hospitality to his Friends, _Dogget_ was ruffled into a Storm,
and look'd upon this Generosity as so much Insult and Injustice upon
himself and the Fraternity. During this Disorder I stood by, a seeming
quiet Passenger, and, since talking to the Winds I knew could be to no
great Purpose (whatever Weakness it might be call'd) could not help
smiling to observe with what officious Ease and Delight _Wilks_ was
treating his Friends at our Expence, who were scarce acquainted with
them: For it seems all this was to end in their having a Benefit-Play in
the Height of the Season, for the unprofitable Service they had done us
without our Consent or Desire to employ them. Upon this _Dogget_ bounc'd
and grew almost as untractable as _Wilks_ himself. Here, again, I was
forc'd to clap my Patience to the Helm to weather this difficult Point
between them: Applying myself therefore to the Person I imagin'd was
most likely to hear me, I desired _Dogget_ "to consider that I must
naturally be as much hurt by this vain and over-bearing Behaviour in
_Wilks_ as he could be; and that tho' it was true these Actors had no
Pretence to the Favour design'd them, yet we could not say they had
done us any farther Harm, than letting the Town see the Parts they had
been shewn in, had been better done by those to whom they properly
belong'd: Yet as we had greatly profited by the extraordinary Labour of
_Wilks_, who acted long Parts almost every Day, and at least twice to
_Dogget_'s once;[92] and that I granted it might not be so much his
Consideration of our common Interest, as his Fondness for Applause, that
set him to Work, yet even that Vanity, if he supposed it such, had its
Merit to us; and as we had found our Account in it, it would be Folly
upon a Punctilio to tempt the Rashness of a Man, who was capable to undo
all he had done, by any Act of Extravagance that might fly into his
Head: That admitting this Benefit might be some little Loss to us, yet
to break with him upon it could not but be ten times of worse
Consequence, than our overlooking his disagreeable manner of making the
Demand upon us."
[Illustration: ROBERT WILKS]
Though I found this had made _Dogget_ drop the Severity of his Features,
yet he endeavoured still to seem uneasy, by his starting a new
Objection, which was, That we could not be sure even of the Charge they
were to pay for it: For _Wilks_, said he, you know, will go any Lengths
to make it a good Day to them, and may whisper the Door-keepers to give
them the Ready-money taken, and return the Account in such Tickets only
as these Actors have not themselves disposed of. To make this easy too,
I gave him my Word to be answerable for the Charge my self. Upon this he
acceded, and accordingly they had the Benefit-Play. But so it happen'd
(whether as _Dogget_ had suspected or not, I cannot say) the Ready-money
receiv'd fell Ten Pounds short of the Sum they had agreed to pay for it.
Upon the _Saturday_ following, (the Day on which we constantly made up
our Accounts) I went early to the Office, and inquired if the Ten Pounds
had yet been paid in; but not hearing that one Shilling of it had found
its way thither, I immediately supply'd the Sum out of my own Pocket,
and directed the Treasurer to charge it received from me in the
deficient Receipt of the Benefit-Day. Here, now, it might be imagined,
all this silly Matter was accommodated, and that no one could so
properly say he was aggrieved as myself: But let us observe what the
Consequence says--why, the Effect of my insolent interposing honesty
prov'd to be this: That the Party most oblig'd was the most offended;
and the Offence was imputed to me who had been Ten Pounds out of Pocket
to be able to commit it: For when _Wilks_ found in the Account how
spitefully the Ten Pounds had been paid in, he took me aside into the
adjacent Stone-Passage, and with some Warmth ask'd me, What I meant by
pretending to pay in this Ten Pounds? And that, for his part, he did not
understand such Treatment. To which I reply'd, That tho' I was amaz'd
at his thinking himself ill-treated, I would give him a plain,
justifiable Answer.----That I had given my Word to _Dogget_ the Charge
of the Benefit should be fully paid, and since his Friends had neglected
it, I found myself bound to make it good. Upon which he told me I was
mistaken if I thought he did not see into the bottom of all this--That
_Dogget_ and I were always endeavouring to thwart and make him uneasy;
but he was able to stand upon his own Legs, and we should find he would
not be used so: That he took this Payment of the Ten Pounds as an Insult
upon him and a Slight to his Friends; but rather than suffer it he would
tear the whole Business to pieces: That I knew it was in his Power to do
it; and if he could not do a civil thing to a Friend without all this
senseless Rout about it, he could be received in _Ireland_ upon his own
Terms, and could as easily mend a Company there as he had done here:
That if he were gone, _Dogget_ and I would not be able to keep the Doors
open a Week; and, by G--, he would not be a Drudge for nothing. As I
knew all this was but the Foam of the high Value he had set upon
himself, I thought it not amiss to seem a little silently concerned, for
the helpless Condition to which his Resentment of the Injury I have
related was going to reduce us: For I knew I had a Friend in his Heart
that, if I gave him a little time to cool, would soon bring him to
Reason: The sweet Morsel of a Thousand Pounds a Year was not to be met
with at every Table, and might tempt a nicer Palate than his own to
swallow it, when he was not out of Humour. This I knew would always be
of weight with him, when the best Arguments I could use would be of
none. I therefore gave him no farther Provocation than by gravely
telling him, We all had it in our Power to do one another a Mischief;
but I believed none of us much cared to hurt ourselves; that if he was
not of my Opinion, it would not be in my Power to hinder whatever new
Scheme he might resolve upon; that _London_ would always have a
Play-house, and I should have some Chance in it, tho' it might not be so
good as it had been; that he might be sure, if I had thought my paying
in the Ten Pounds could have been so ill received, I should have been
glad to have saved it. Upon this he seem'd to mutter something to
himself, and walk'd off as if he had a mind to be alone. I took the
Occasion, and return'd to _Dogget_ to finish our Accounts. In about six
Minutes _Wilks_ came in to us, not in the best Humour, it may be
imagined; yet not in so ill a one but that he took his Share of the Ten
Pounds without shewing the least Contempt of it; which, had he been
proud enough to have refused, or to have paid in himself, I might have
thought he intended to make good his Menaces, and that the Injury I had
done him would never have been forgiven; but it seems we had different
ways of thinking.
Of this kind, more or less delightful, was the Life I led with this
impatient Man for full twenty Years. _Dogget_, as we shall find, could
not hold it so long; but as he had more Money than I, he had not
Occasion for so much Philosophy. And thus were our Theatrical Affairs
frequently disconcerted by this irascible Commander, this _Achilles_ of
our Confederacy, who, I may be bold to say, came very little short of
the Spirit _Horace_ gives to that Hero in his--
_Impiger, iracundus, inexorabilis, acer._[93]
This, then, is one of those Personal Anecdotes of our Variances, which,
as our publick Performances were affected by it, could not, with regard
to Truth and Justice, be omitted.
From this time to the Year 1712 my Memory (from which Repository alone
every Article of what I write is collected) has nothing worth
mentioning, 'till the first acting of the Tragedy of _Cato_.[94] As to
the Play itself, it might be enough to say, That the Author and the
Actors had their different Hopes of Fame and Profit amply answer'd by
the Performance; but as its Success was attended with remarkable
Consequences, it may not be amiss to trace it from its several Years
Concealment in the Closet, to the Stage.
In 1703, nine Years before it was acted, I had the Pleasure of reading
the first four Acts (which was all of it then written) privately with
Sir _Richard Steele_: It may be needless to say it was impossible to lay
them out of my Hand 'till I had gone thro' them, or to dwell upon the
Delight his Friendship to the Author receiv'd upon my being so warmly
pleas'd with them: But my Satisfaction was as highly disappointed when
he told me, Whatever Spirit Mr. _Addison_ had shewn in his writing it,
he doubted he would never have Courage enough to let his _Cato_ stand
the Censure of an _English_ Audience; that it had only been the
Amusement of his leisure Hours in _Italy_, and was never intended for
the Stage. This Poetical Diffidence[95] Sir _Richard_ himself spoke of
with some Concern, and in the Transport of his Imagination could not
help saying, _Good God!_ what a Part would _Betterton_ make of _Cato!_
But this was seven Years before _Betterton_ died, and when _Booth_ (who
afterwards made his Fortune by acting it) was in his Theatrical
Minority. In the latter end of Queen _Anne_'s Reign, when our National
Politicks had changed Hands, the Friends of Mr. _Addison_ then thought
it a proper time to animate the Publick with the Sentiments of _Cato_;
in a word, their Importunities were too warm to be resisted; and it was
no sooner finish'd than hurried to the Stage, in _April_, 1712,[96] at a
time when three Days a Week were usually appointed for the Benefit Plays
of particular Actors: But a Work of that critical Importance was to make
its way through all private Considerations; nor could it possibly give
place to a Custom, which the Breach of could very little prejudice the
Benefits, that on so unavoidable an Occasion were (in part, tho' not
wholly) postpon'd; it was therefore (_Mondays_ excepted) acted every Day
for a Month to constantly crowded Houses.[97] As the Author had made us
a Present of whatever Profits he might have claim'd from it, we thought
our selves oblig'd to spare no Cost in the proper Decorations of it. Its
coming so late in the Season to the Stage prov'd of particular Advantage
to the sharing Actors, because the Harvest of our annual Gains was
generally over before the middle of _March_, many select Audiences being
then usually reserv'd in favour to the Benefits of private Actors; which
fixt Engagements naturally abated the Receipts of the Days before and
after them: But this unexpected Aftercrop of _Cato_ largely supplied to
us those Deficiencies, and was almost equal to two fruitful Seasons in
the same Year; at the Close of which the three menaging Actors found
themselves each a Gainer of thirteen hundred and fifty Pounds: But to
return to the first Reception of this Play from the Publick.
Although _Cato_ seems plainly written upon what are called _Whig_
Principles, yet the _Torys_ of that time had Sense enough not to take it
as the least Reflection upon their Administration; but, on the contrary,
they seem'd to brandish and vaunt their Approbation of every Sentiment
in favour of Liberty, which, by a publick Act of their Generosity, was
carried so high, that one Day, while the Play was acting, they collected
fifty Guineas in the Boxes, and made a Present of them to _Booth_, with
this Compliment----_For his honest Opposition to a perpetual Dictator,
and his dying so bravely in the Cause of Liberty_: What was insinuated
by any Part of these Words is not my Affair;[98] but so publick a Reward
had the Appearance of a laudable Spirit, which only such a Play as
_Cato_ could have inspired; nor could _Booth_ be blam'd if, upon so
particular a Distinction of his Merit, he began himself to set more
Value upon it: How far he might carry it, in making use of the Favour he
stood in with a certain Nobleman[99] then in Power at Court, was not
difficult to penetrate, and indeed ought always to have been expected by
the menaging Actors: For which of them (making the Case every way his
own) could with such Advantages have contented himself in the humble
Station of an hired Actor? But let us see how the Menagers stood
severally affected upon this Occasion.
_Dogget_, who expected, though he fear'd not, the Attempt of what after
happen'd, imagin'd he had thought of an Expedient to prevent it: And to
cover his Design with all the Art of a Statesman, he insinuated to us
(for he was a staunch _Whig_) that this Present of fifty Guineas was a
sort of a _Tory_ Triumph which they had no Pretence to; and that for his
Part he could not bear that so redoubted a Champion for Liberty as
_Cato_ should be bought off to the Cause of a Contrary Party: He
therefore, in the seeming Zeal of his Heart, proposed that the Menagers
themselves should make the same Present to _Booth_ which had been made
him from the Boxes the Day before. This, he said, would recommend the
Equality and liberal Spirit of our Menagement to the Town, and might be
a Means to secure _Booth_ more firmly in our Interest, it never having
been known that the Skill of the best Actor had receiv'd so round a
Reward or Gratuity in one Day before. _Wilks_, who wanted nothing but
Abilities to be as cunning as _Dogget_, was so charm'd with the Proposal
that he long'd that Moment to make _Booth_ the Present with his own
Hands; and though he knew he had no Right to do it without my Consent,
had no Patience to ask it; upon which I turned to _Dogget_ with a cold
Smile, and told him, that if _Booth_ could be purchas'd at so cheap a
Rate, it would be one of the best Proofs of his Oeconomy we had ever
been beholden to: I therefore desired we might have a little Patience;
that our doing it too hastily might be only making sure of an Occasion
to throw the fifty Guineas away; for if we should be obliged to do
better for him, we could never expect that _Booth_ would think himself
bound in Honour to refund them. This seem'd so absurd an Argument to
_Wilks_ that he began, with his usual Freedom of Speech, to treat it as
a pitiful Evasion of their intended Generosity: But _Dogget_, who was
not so wide of my Meaning, clapping his Hand upon mine, said, with an
Air of Security, O! don't trouble yourself! there must be two Words to
that Bargain; let me alone to menage that Matter. _Wilks_, upon this
dark Discourse, grew uneasy, as if there were some Secret between us
that he was to be left out of. Therefore, to avoid the Shock of his
Intemperance, I was reduc'd to tell him that it was my Opinion, that
_Booth_ would never be made easy by any thing we could do for him, 'till
he had a Share in the Profits and Menagement; and that, as he did not
want Friends to assist him, whatever his Merit might be before, every
one would think, since his acting of _Cato_, he had now enough to back
his Pretensions to it. To which _Dogget_ reply'd, that nobody could
think his Merit was slighted by so handsome a Present as fifty Guineas;
and that, for his farther Pretensions, whatever the License might avail,
our Property of House, Scenes, and Cloaths were our own, and not in the
Power of the Crown to dispose of. To conclude, my Objections that the
Money would be only thrown away, _&c._ were over-rul'd, and the same
Night _Booth_ had the fifty Guineas, which he receiv'd with a
Thankfulness that made _Wilks_ and _Dogget_ perfectly easy, insomuch
that they seem'd for some time to triumph in their Conduct, and often
endeavour'd to laugh my Jealousy out of Countenance: But in the
following Winter the Game happen'd to take a different Turn; and then,
if it had been a laughing Matter, I had as strong an Occasion to smile
at their former Security. But before I make an End of this Matter, I
cannot pass over the good Fortune of the Company that followed us to the
Act at _Oxford_, which was held in the intervening Summer: Perhaps, too,
a short View of the Stage in that different Situation may not be
unacceptable to the Curious.
After the Restoration of King _Charles_, before the _Cavalier_ and
_Round-head_ Parties, under their new Denomination of _Whig_ and _Tory_,
began again to be politically troublesome, publick Acts at _Oxford_ (as
I find by the Date of several Prologues written by _Dryden_[100] for
_Hart_ on those Occasions) had been more frequently held than in later
Reigns. Whether the same Party-Dissentions may have occasion'd the
Discontinuance of them, is a Speculation not necessary to be enter'd
into. But these Academical Jubilees have usually been look'd upon as a
kind of congratulatory Compliment to the Accession of every new Prince
to the Throne, and generally, as such, have attended them. King
_James_,[101] notwithstanding his Religion, had the Honour of it; at
which the Players, as usual, assisted. This I have only mention'd to
give the Reader a Theatrical Anecdote of a Liberty which _Tony Leigh_
the Comedian took with the Character of the well known _Obadiah
Walker_,[102] then Head of _University College_, who in that Prince's
Reign had turn'd _Roman Catholick_: The Circumstance is this.
In the latter End of the Comedy call'd the _Committee_, _Leigh_, who
acted the Part of _Teague_, hauling in _Obadiah_ with an Halter about
his Neck, whom, according to his written Part, he was to threaten to
hang for no better Reason than his refusing to drink the King's Health,
(but here _Leigh_) to justify his Purpose with a stronger Provocation,
put himself into a more than ordinary Heat with his Captive _Obadiah_,
which having heightened his Master's Curiosity to know what _Obadiah_
had done to deserve such Usage, _Leigh_, folding his Arms, with a
ridiculous Stare of Astonishment, reply'd--_Upon my Shoule, he has
shange his Religion_. As the Merit of this Jest lay chiefly in the
Auditors' sudden Application of it to the _Obadiah_ of _Oxford_, it was
received with all the Triumph of Applause which the Zeal of a different
Religion could inspire. But _Leigh_ was given to understand that the
King was highly displeased at it, inasmuch as it had shewn him that the
University was in a Temper to make a Jest of his Proselyte. But to
return to the Conduct of our own Affairs there in 1712.[103]
It had been a Custom for the Comedians while at _Oxford_ to act twice a
Day; the first Play ending every Morning before the College Hours of
dining, and the other never to break into the time of shutting their
Gates in the Evening. This extraordinary Labour gave all the hired
Actors a Title to double Pay, which, at the Act in King _William_'s
Time, I had myself accordingly received there. But the present Menagers
considering that, by acting only once a Day, their Spirits might be
fresher for every single Performance, and that by this Means they might
be able to fill up the Term of their Residence, without the Repetition
of their best and strongest Plays; and as their Theatre was contrived to
hold a full third more than the usual Form of it had done, one House
well fill'd might answer the Profits of two but moderately taken up:
Being enabled, too, by their late Success at _London_, to make the
Journey pleasant and profitable to the rest of their Society, they
resolved to continue to them their double Pay, notwithstanding this new
Abatement of half their Labour. This Conduct of the Menagers more than
answered their Intention, which was rather to get nothing themselves
than not let their Fraternity be the better for the Expedition. Thus
they laid an Obligation upon their Company, and were themselves
considerably, though unexpected, Gainers by it. But my chief Reason for
bringing the Reader to _Oxford_ was to shew the different Taste of Plays
there from that which prevail'd at _London_. A great deal of that false,
flashy Wit and forc'd Humour, which had been the Delight of our
Metropolitan Multitude, was only rated there at its bare intrinsick
Value;[104] Applause was not to be purchased there but by the true
Sterling, the _Sal Atticum_ of a Genius, unless where the Skill of the
Actor pass'd it upon them with some extraordinary Strokes of Nature.
_Shakespear_ and _Johnson_ had there a sort of classical Authority; for
whose masterly Scenes they seem'd to have as implicit a Reverence as
formerly for the Ethicks of _Aristotle_; and were as incapable of
allowing Moderns to be their Competitors, as of changing their
Academical Habits for gaudy Colours or Embroidery. Whatever Merit,
therefore, some few of our more politely-written Comedies might pretend
to, they had not the same Effect upon the Imagination there, nor were
received with that extraordinary Applause they had met with from the
People of Mode and Pleasure in _London_, whose vain Accomplishments did
not dislike themselves in the Glass that was held to them: The elegant
Follies of higher Life were not at _Oxford_ among their Acquaintance,
and consequently might not be so good Company to a learned Audience as
Nature, in her plain Dress and unornamented, in her Pursuits and
Inclinations seem'd to be.
The only distinguish'd Merit allow'd to any modern Writer[105] was to
the Author of _Cato_, which Play being the Flower of a Plant raised in
that learned Garden, (for there Mr. _Addison_ had his Education) what
favour may we not suppose was due to him from an Audience of Brethren,
who from that local Relation to him might naturally have a warmer
Pleasure in their Benevolence to his Fame? But not to give more Weight
to this imaginary Circumstance than it may bear, the Fact was, that on
our first Day of acting it our House was in a manner invested, and
Entrance demanded by twelve a Clock at Noon, and before one it was not
wide enough for many who came too late for Places. The same Crowds
continued for three Days together, (an uncommon Curiosity in that Place)
and the Death of _Cato_ triumph'd over the Injuries of _Cæsar_ every
where. To conclude, our Reception at _Oxford_, whatever our Merit might
be, exceeded our Expectation. At our taking Leave we had the Thanks of
the Vice-Chancellor for the Decency and Order observ'd by our whole
Society, an Honour which had not always been paid upon the same
Occasions; for at the Act in King _William_'s Time I remember some
Pranks of a different Nature had been complain'd of. Our Receipts had
not only enabled us (as I have observ'd) to double the Pay of every
Actor, but to afford out of them towards the Repair of St _Mary_'s
Church the Contribution of fifty Pounds: Besides which, each of the
three Menagers had to his respective Share, clear of all Charges, one
hundred and fifty more for his one and twenty Day's Labour, which being
added to his thirteen hundred and fifty shared in the Winter preceding,
amounted in the whole to fifteen hundred, the greatest Sum ever known to
have been shared in one Year to that Time: And to the Honour of our
Auditors here and elsewhere be it spoken, all this was rais'd without
the Aid of those barbarous Entertainments with which, some few Years
after (upon the Re-establishment of two contending Companies) we were
forc'd to disgrace the Stage to support it.
This, therefore, is that remarkable Period when the Stage, during my
Time upon it, was the least reproachable: And it may be worth the
publick Observation (if any thing I have said of it can be so) that
_One_ Stage may, as I have prov'd it has done, very laudably support it
self by such Spectacles only as are fit to delight a sensible People;
but the equal Prosperity of _Two_ Stages has always been of a very short
Duration. If therefore the Publick should ever recover into the true
Taste of that Time, and stick to it, the Stage must come into it, or
_starve_; as, whenever the general Taste is vulgar, the Stage must come
down to it to _live_.----But I ask Pardon of the Multitude, who, in all
Regulations of the Stage, may expect to be a little indulg'd in what
they like: If therefore they _will_ have a May-pole, why, the Players
must _give_ them a May-pole; but I only speak in case they should keep
an old Custom of changing their Minds, and by their Privilege of being
in the _wrong_, should take a Fancy, by way of Variety, of being in the
_right_----Then, in such a Case, what I have said may appear to have
been no intended Design against their Liberty of judging for themselves.
After our Return from _Oxford_, _Booth_ was at full Leisure to solicit
his Admission to a Share in the Menagement,[106] in which he succeeded
about the Beginning of the following Winter: Accordingly a new License
(recalling all former Licenses) was issued, wherein _Booth_'s Name was
added to those of the other Menagers.[107] But still there was a
Difficulty in his Qualification to be adjusted; what Consideration he
should allow for an equal Title to our Stock of Cloaths, Scenes, _&c._
without which the License was of no more use than the Stock was without
the License; or, at least, if there were any Difference, the former
Menagers seem'd to have the Advantage in it; the Stock being intirely
theirs, and three Parts in four of the License; for _Collier_, though
now but a fifth Menager, still insisted on his former Appointment of
700_l._ a Year, which in Equity ought certainly to have been
proportionably abated: But Court-Favour was not always measur'd by
_that_ Yard; _Collier's_ Matter was soon out of the Question; his
Pretensions were too visible to be contested; but the Affair of _Booth_
was not so clear a Point: The Lord Chamberlain, therefore, only
recommended it to be adjusted among our selves; which, to say the Truth,
at that Time was a greater Indulgence than I expected. Let us see, then,
how this critical Case was handled.
_Wilks_ was of Opinion, that to set a good round Value upon our Stock,
was the only way to come near an Equivalent for the Diminution of our
Shares, which the Admission of _Booth_ must occasion: But _Dogget_
insisted that he had no mind to dispose of any Part of his Property, and
therefore would set no Price upon it at all. Though I allow'd that Both
these Opinions might be grounded on a good deal of Equity, yet I was not
sure that either of them was practicable; and therefore told them, that
when they could Both agree which of them could be made so, they might
rely on my Consent in any Shape. In the mean time I desired they would
consider, that as our License subsisted only during Pleasure, we could
not pretend that the Queen might not recall or alter it: But that to
speak out, without mincing the matter on either Side, the Truth was
plainly this: That _Booth_ had a manifest Merit as an Actor; and as he
was not supposed to be a _Whig_, it was as evident that a good deal for
that Reason a Secretary of State had taken him into his Protection,
which I was afraid the weak Pretence of our invaded Property would not
be able to contend with: That his having signaliz'd himself in the
Character of _Cato_ (whose Principles the _Tories_ had affected to have
taken into their own Possession) was a very popular Pretence of making
him free of the Stage, by advancing him to the Profits of it. And, as we
had seen that the Stage was frequently treated as if it was not suppos'd
to have any Property at all, this Favour intended to _Booth_ was thought
a right Occasion to avow that Opinion by disposing of its Property at
Pleasure: But be that as it might, I own'd it was not so much my
Apprehensions of what the _Court_ might do, that sway'd me into an
Accommodation with _Booth_, as what the _Town_, (in whose Favour he now
apparently stood) might think _ought_ to be done: That there might be
more danger in contesting their arbitrary Will and Pleasure than in
disputing this less terrible Strain of the Prerogative. That if _Booth_
were only impos'd upon us from his Merit to the Court, we were then in
the Condition of other Subjects: Then, indeed, Law, Right, and
Possession might have a tolerable Tug for our Property: But as the Town
would always look upon his Merit to _them_ in a stronger Light, and be
Judges of it themselves, it would be a weak and idle Endeavour in us not
to sail with the Stream, when we might possibly make a Merit of our
cheerfully admitting him: That though his former Opposition to our
Interest might, between Man and Man, a good deal justify our not making
an earlier Friend of him; yet that was a Disobligation out of the Town's
Regard, and consequently would be of no weight against so approv'd an
Actor's being preferr'd. But all this notwithstanding, if they could
both agree in a different Opinion, I would, at the Hazard of any
Consequence, be guided by it.
Here, now, will be shewn another Instance of our different Tempers:
_Dogget_ (who, in all Matters that concern'd our common Weal and
Interest, little regarded our Opinion, and even to an Obstinacy walk'd
by his own) look'd only out of Humour at what I had said, and, without
thinking himself oblig'd to give any Reason for it, declar'd he would
maintain his Property. _Wilks_ (who, upon the same Occasions, was as
remarkably ductile, as when his Superiority on the Stage was in question
he was assuming and intractable) said, for his Part, provided our
Business of acting was not interrupted, he did not care what we did:
But, in short, he was for playing on, come what would of it. This last
Part of his Declaration I did not dislike, and therefore I desir'd we
might all enter into an immediate Treaty with _Booth_, upon the Terms of
his Admission. _Dogget_ still sullenly reply'd, that he had no Occasion
to enter into any Treaty. _Wilks_ then, to soften him, propos'd that,
if I liked it, _Dogget_ might undertake it himself. I agreed. No! he
would not be concern'd in it. I then offer'd the same Trust to _Wilks_,
if _Dogget_ approv'd of it. _Wilks_ said he was not good at making of
Bargains, but if I was willing, he would rather leave it to me. _Dogget_
at this rose up and said, we might both do as we pleas'd, but that
nothing but the Law should make him part with his Property--and so went
out of the Room. After which he never came among us more, either as an
Actor or Menager.[108]
By his having in this abrupt manner abdicated his Post in our
Government, what he left of it naturally devolv'd upon _Wilks_ and
myself. However, this did not so much distress our Affair as I have
Reason to believe _Dogget_ thought it would: For though by our
Indentures tripartite we could not dispose of his Property without his
Consent; Yet those Indentures could not oblige us to fast because he had
no Appetite; and if the Mill did not grind, we could have no Bread: We
therefore determin'd, at any Hazard, to keep our Business still going,
and that our safest way would be to make the best Bargain we could with
_Booth_; one Article of which was to be, That _Booth_ should stand
equally answerable with us to _Dogget_ for the Consequence: To which
_Booth_ made no Objection, and the rest of his Agreement was to allow us
Six Hundred Pounds for his Share in our Property, which was to be paid
by such Sums as should arise from half his Profits of Acting, 'till the
whole was discharg'd: Yet so cautious were we in this Affair, that this
Agreement was only Verbal on our Part, tho' written and sign'd by
_Booth_ as what intirely contented him: However, Bond and Judgment could
not have made it more secure to him; for he had his Share, and was able
to discharge the Incumbrance upon it by his Income of that Year only.
Let us see what _Dogget_ did in this Affair after he had left us.
Might it not be imagin'd that _Wilks_ and Myself, by having made this
Matter easy to _Booth_, should have deserv'd the Approbation at least,
if not the Favour of the Court that had exerted so much Power to prefer
him? But shall I be believed when I affirm that _Dogget_, who had so
strongly oppos'd the Court in his Admission to a Share, was very near
getting the better of us both upon that Account, and for some time
appeared to have more Favour there than either of us? Let me tell out my
Story, and then think what you please of it.
_Dogget_, who was equally oblig'd with us to act upon the Stage, as to
assist in the Menagement of it, tho' he had refus'd to do either, still
demanded of us his whole Share of the Profits, without considering what
Part of them _Booth_ might pretend to from our late Concessions. After
many fruitless Endeavours to bring him back to us, _Booth_ join'd with
us in making him an Offer of half a Share if he had a mind totally to
quit the Stage, and make it a _Sine-cure_. No! he wanted the whole, and
to sit still himself, while we (if we pleased) might work for him or let
it alone, and none of us all, neither he nor we, be the better for it.
What we imagin'd encourag'd him to hold us at this short Defiance was,
that he had laid up enough to live upon without the Stage (for he was
one of those close Oeconomists whom Prodigals call a Miser) and
therefore, partly from an Inclination as an invincible _Whig_ to
signalize himself in defence of his Property, and as much presuming that
our Necessities would oblige us to come to his own Terms, he was
determin'd (even against the Opinion of his Friends) to make no other
Peace with us. But not being able by this inflexible Perseverance to
have his wicked Will of us, he was resolv'd to go to the Fountain-head
of his own Distress, and try if from thence he could turn the Current
against us. He appeal'd to the Vice-Chamberlain,[109] to whose Direction
the adjusting of all these Theatrical Difficulties was then committed:
But there, I dare say, the Reader does not expect he should meet with
much Favour: However, be that as it may; for whether any regard was had
to his having some Thousands in his Pocket; or that he was consider'd as
a Man who would or could make more Noise in the Matter than Courtiers
might care for: Or what Charms, Spells, or Conjurations he might make
use of, is all Darkness to me; yet so it was, he one way or other play'd
his part so well, that in a few Days after we received an Order from
the Vice-Chamberlain, positively commanding us to pay _Dogget_ his whole
Share, notwithstanding we had complain'd before of his having withdrawn
himself from acting on the Stage, and from the Menagement of it. This I
thought was a dainty Distinction, indeed! that _Dogget_'s Defiance of
the Commands in favour of _Booth_ should be rewarded with so ample a
_Sine-cure_, and that we for our Obedience should be condemn'd to dig in
the Mine to pay it him! This bitter Pill, I confess, was more than I
could down with, and therefore soon determin'd at all Events never to
take it. But as I had a Man in Power to deal with, it was not my
business to speak _out_ to him, or to set forth our Treatment in its
proper Colours. My only Doubt was, Whether I could bring _Wilks_ into
the same Sentiments (for he never car'd to litigate any thing that did
not affect his Figure upon the Stage.) But I had the good Fortune to lay
our Condition in so precarious and disagreeable a Light to him, if we
submitted to this Order, that he fir'd before I could get thro' half the
Consequences of it; and I began now to find it more difficult to keep
him within Bounds than I had before to alarm him. I then propos'd to him
this Expedient: That we should draw up a Remonstrance, neither seeming
to refuse or comply with this Order; but to start such Objections and
perplexing Difficulties that should make the whole impracticable: That
under such Distractions as this would raise in our Affairs we could not
be answerable to keep open our Doors, which consequently would destroy
the Fruit of the Favour lately granted to _Booth_, as well as of This
intended to _Dogget_ himself. To this Remonstrance we received an Answer
in Writing, which varied something in the Measures to accommodate
Matters with _Dogget_. This was all I desir'd; when I found the Style of
_Sic jubeo_ was alter'd, when this formidable Power began to _parley_
with us, we knew there could not be much to be fear'd from it: For I
would have remonstrated 'till I had died, rather than have yielded to
the roughest or smoothest Persuasion, that could intimidate or deceive
us. By this Conduct we made the Affair at last too troublesome for the
Ease of a Courtier to go thro' with. For when it was consider'd that the
principal Point, the Admission of _Booth_, was got over, _Dogget_ was
fairly left to the Law for Relief.[110]
Upon this Disappointment _Dogget_ accordingly preferred a Bill in
_Chancery_ against us. _Wilks_, who hated all Business but that of
entertaining the Publick, left the Conduct of our Cause to me; in which
we had, at our first setting out, this Advantage of _Dogget_, that we
had three Pockets to support our Expence, where he had but One. My first
Direction to our Solicitor was, to use all possible Delay that the Law
would admit of, a Direction that Lawyers seldom neglect; by this means
we hung up our Plaintiff about two Years in _Chancery_, 'till we were at
full Leisure to come to a Hearing before the Lord-Chancellor _Cooper_,
which did not happen 'till after the Accession of his late Majesty. The
Issue of it was this. _Dogget_ had about fourteen Days allow'd him to
make his Election whether he would return to act as usual: But he
declaring, by his Counsel, That he rather chose to quit the Stage, he
was decreed Six Hundred Pounds for his Share in our Property, with 15
_per Cent._ Interest from the Date of the last License: Upon the
Receipt of which both Parties were to sign General-Releases, and
severally to pay their own Costs. By this Decree, _Dogget_, when his
Lawyer's Bill was paid, scarce got one Year's Purchase of what we had
offer'd him without Law, which (as he surviv'd but seven Years after it)
would have been an Annuity of Five Hundred Pounds and a _Sine Cure_ for
Life.[111]
Tho' there are many Persons living who know every Article of these Facts
to be true: Yet it will be found that the strongest of them was not the
strongest Occasion of _Dogget_'s quitting the Stage. If therefore the
Reader should not have Curiosity enough to know how the Publick came to
be depriv'd of so valuable an Actor, let him consider that he is not
obliged to go through the rest of this Chapter, which I fairly tell him
before-hand will only be fill'd up with a few idle Anecdotes leading to
that Discovery.
After our Law-suit was ended, _Dogget_ for some few Years could scarce
bear the Sight of _Wilks_ or myself; tho' (as shall be shewn) for
different Reasons: Yet it was his Misfortune to meet with us almost
every Day. _Button_'s Coffee-house, so celebrated in the _Tatlers_ for
the Good-Company that came there, was at this time in its highest
Request. _Addison_, _Steele_, _Pope_, and several other Gentlemen of
different Merit, then made it their constant _Rendezvous_. Nor could
_Dogget_ decline the agreeable Conversation there, tho' he was daily
sure to find _Wilks_ or myself in the same Place to sour his Share of
it: For as _Wilks_ and He were differently Proud, the one rejoicing in a
captious, over-bearing, valiant Pride, and the other in a stiff, sullen,
Purse-Pride, it may be easily conceiv'd, when two such Tempers met, how
agreeable the Sight of one was to the other. And as _Dogget_ knew I
had been the Conductor of our Defence against his Law-suit, which
had hurt him more for the Loss he had sustain'd in his Reputation
of understanding Business, which he valued himself upon, than his
Disappointment had of getting so little by it; it was no wonder if I was
intirely out of his good Graces, which I confess I was inclin'd upon any
reasonable Terms to have recover'd; he being of all my Theatrical
Brethren the Man I most delighted in: For when he was not in a Fit of
Wisdom, or not over-concerned about his Interest, he had a great deal of
entertaining Humour: I therefore, notwithstanding his Reserve, always
left the Door open to our former Intimacy, if he were inclined to come
into it. I never failed to give him my Hat and _Your Servant_ wherever I
met him; neither of which he would ever return for above a Year after;
but I still persisted in my usual Salutation, without observing whether
it was civilly received or not. This ridiculous Silence between two
Comedians, that had so lately liv'd in a constant Course of Raillery
with one another, was often smil'd at by our Acquaintance who
frequented the same Coffee-house: And one of them carried his Jest upon
it so far, that when I was at some Distance from Town he wrote me a
formal Account that _Dogget_ was actually dead. After the first Surprize
his Letter gave me was over, I began to consider, that this coming from
a droll Friend to both of us, might possibly be written to extract some
Merriment out of my real belief of it: In this I was not unwilling to
gratify him, and returned an Answer as if I had taken the Truth of his
News for granted; and was not a little pleas'd that I had so fair an
Opportunity of speaking my Mind freely of _Dogget_, which I did, in some
Favour of his Character; I excused his Faults, and was just to his
Merit. His Law-suit with us I only imputed to his having naturally
deceived himself in the Justice of his Cause. What I most complain'd of
was, his irreconcilable Disaffection to me upon it, whom he could not
reasonably blame for standing in my own Defence; that not to endure me
after it was a Reflection upon his Sense, when all our Acquaintance had
been Witnesses of our former Intimacy, which my Behaviour in his
Life-time had plainly shewn him I had a mind to renew. But since he was
now gone (however great a Churl he was to me) I was sorry my
Correspondent had lost him.
This Part of my Letter I was sure, if _Dogget_'s Eyes were still open,
would be shewn to him; if not, I had only writ it to no Purpose. But
about a Month after, when I came to Town, I had some little Reason to
imagine it had the Effect I wish'd from it: For one Day, sitting
over-against him at the same Coffee-house where we often mixt at the
same Table, tho' we never exchanged a single Syllable, he graciously
extended his Hand for a Pinch of my Snuff: As this seem'd from him a
sort of breaking the Ice of his Temper, I took Courage upon it to break
Silence on my Side, and ask'd him how he lik'd it? To which, with a slow
Hesitation naturally assisted by the Action of his taking the Snuff, he
reply'd--_Umh! the best--Umh!--I have tasted a great while!_--If the
Reader, who may possibly think all this extremely trifling, will
consider that Trifles sometimes shew Characters in as strong a Light as
Facts of more serious Importance, I am in hopes he may allow that my
Matter less needs an Excuse than the Excuse itself does; if not, I must
stand condemn'd at the end of my Story.----But let me go on.
After a few Days of these coy, Lady-like Compliances on his Side, we
grew into a more conversable Temper: At last I took a proper Occasion,
and desired he would be so frank with me as to let me know what was his
real Dislike, or Motive, that made him throw up so good an Income as his
Share with us annually brought him in? For though by our Admission of
_Booth_, it might not probably amount to so much by a Hundred or two a
Year as formerly, yet the Remainder was too considerable to be quarrel'd
with, and was likely to continue more than the best Actors before us had
ever got by the Stage. And farther, to encourage him to be open, I told
him, If I had done any thing that had particularly disobliged him, I was
ready, if he could put me in the way, to make him any Amends in my
Power; if not, I desired he would be so just to himself as to let me
know the real Truth without Reserve: But Reserve he could not, from his
natural Temper, easily shake off. All he said came from him by half
Sentences and _Inuendos_, as--No, he had not taken any thing
particularly ill--for his Part, he was very easy as he was; but where
others were to dispose of his Property as they pleas'd--if you had stood
it out as I did, _Booth_ might have paid a better Price for it.--You
were too much afraid of the Court--but that's all over.--There were
other things in the Play-house.--No Man of Spirit.--In short, to be
always pester'd and provok'd by a trifling Wasp--a--vain--shallow!--A
Man would sooner beg his Bread than bear it--(Here it was easy to
understand him: I therefore ask'd him what he had to bear that I had not
my Share of?) No! it was not the same thing, he said.--You can play with
a Bear, or let him alone and do what he would, but I could not let him
lay his Paws upon me without being hurt; you did not feel him as I
did.--And for a Man to be cutting of Throats upon every Trifle at my
time of Day!--If I had been as covetous as he thought me, may be I might
have born it as well as you--but I would not be a Lord of the Treasury
if such a Temper as _Wilks_'s were to be at the Head of it.--
Here, then, the whole Secret was out. The rest of our Conversation was
but explaining upon it. In a Word, the painful Behaviour of _Wilks_ had
hurt him so sorely that the Affair of _Booth_ was look'd upon as much a
Relief as a Grievance, in giving him so plausible a Pretence to get rid
of us all with a better Grace.
_Booth_ too, in a little time, had his Share of the same Uneasiness, and
often complain'd of it to me: Yet as we neither of us could then afford
to pay _Dogget_'s Price for our Remedy, all we could do was to avoid
every Occasion in our Power of inflaming the Distemper: So that we both
agreed, tho' _Wilks_'s Nature was not to be changed, it was a less Evil
to live with him than without him.
Tho' I had often suspected, from what I had felt myself, that the Temper
of _Wilks_ was _Dogget_'s real Quarrel to the Stage, yet I could never
thoroughly believe it 'till I had it from his own Mouth. And I then
thought the Concern he had shewn at it was a good deal inconsistent with
that Understanding which was generally allow'd him. When I give my
Reasons for it, perhaps the Reader will not have a better Opinion of my
own: Be that as it may, I cannot help wondering that he who was so much
more capable of Reflexion than _Wilks_, could sacrifice so valuable an
Income to his Impatience of another's natural Frailty! And though my
Stoical way of thinking may be no Rule for a wiser Man's Opinion, yet,
if it should happen to be right, the Reader may make his Use of it. Why
then should we not always consider that the Rashness of Abuse is but the
false Reason of a weak Man? and that offensive Terms are only used to
supply the want of Strength in Argument? Which, as to the common
Practice of the sober World, we do not find every Man in Business is
oblig'd to resent with a military Sense of Honour: Or if he should,
would not the Conclusion amount to this? Because another wants Sense and
Manners I am obliged to be a Madman: For such every Man is, more or
less, while the Passion of Anger is in Possession of him. And what less
can we call that proud Man who would put another out of the World only
for putting him out of Humour? If Accounts of the Tongue were always to
be made up with the Sword, all the Wisemen in the World might be brought
in Debtors to Blockheads. And when Honour pretends to be Witness, Judge,
and Executioner in its own Cause, if Honour were a Man, would it be an
Untruth to say Honour is a very impudent Fellow? But in _Dogget_'s Case
it may be ask'd, How was he to behave himself? Were passionate Insults
to be born for Years together? To these Questions I can only answer with
two or three more, Was he to punish himself because another was in the
wrong? How many sensible Husbands endure the teizing Tongue of a froward
Wife only because she is the weaker Vessel? And why should not a weak
Man have the same Indulgence? Daily Experience will tell us that the
fretful Temper of a Friend, like the Personal Beauty of a fine Lady, by
Use and Cohabitation may be brought down to give us neither Pain nor
Pleasure. Such, at least, and no more, was the Distress I found myself
in upon the same Provocations, which I generally return'd with humming
an Air to myself; or if the Storm grew very high, it might perhaps
sometimes ruffle me enough to sing a little out of Tune. Thus too (if I
had any ill Nature to gratify) I often saw the unruly Passion of the
Aggressor's Mind punish itself by a restless Disorder of the Body.
What inclines me, therefore, to think the Conduct of _Dogget_ was as rash
as the Provocations he complain'd of, is that in some time after he had
left us he plainly discover'd he had repented it. His Acquaintance
observ'd to us, that he sent many a long Look after his Share in the still
prosperous State of the Stage: But as his Heart was too high to declare
(what we saw too) his shy Inclination to return, he made us no direct
Overtures. Nor, indeed, did we care (though he was a golden Actor) to pay
too dear for him: For as most of his Parts had been pretty well supply'd,
he could not now be of his former Value to us. However, to shew the Town
at least that he had not forsworn the Stage, he one Day condescended to
play for the Benefit of Mrs. _Porter_,[112] in the _Wanton Wife_, at which
he knew his late Majesty was to be present.[113] Now (tho' I speak it not
of my own Knowledge) yet it was not likely Mrs. _Porter_ would have ask'd
that Favour of him without some previous Hint that it would be granted.
His coming among us for that Day only had a strong Appearance of his
laying it in our way to make him Proposals, or that he hoped the Court or
Town might intimate to us their Desire of seeing him oftener: But as he
acted only to do a particular Favour, the Menagers ow'd him no Compliment
for it beyond Common Civilities. And, as that might not be all he proposed
by it, his farther Views (if he had any) came to nothing. For after this
Attempt he never returned to the Stage.
To speak of him as an Actor: He was the most an Original, and the
strictest Observer of Nature, of all his Contemporaries.[114] He
borrow'd from none of them: His Manner was his own: He was a Pattern to
others, whose greatest Merit was that they had sometimes tolerably
imitated him. In dressing a Character to the greatest Exactness he was
remarkably skilful; the least Article of whatever Habit he wore seem'd
in some degree to speak and mark the different Humour he presented; a
necessary Care in a Comedian, in which many have been too remiss or
ignorant. He could be extremely ridiculous without stepping into the
least Impropriety to make him so. His greatest Success was in Characters
of lower Life, which he improv'd from the Delight he took in his
Observations of that Kind in the real World. In Songs, and particular
Dances, too, of Humour, he had no Competitor. _Congreve_ was a great
Admirer of him, and found his Account in the Characters he expressly
wrote for him. In those of _Fondlewife_, in his _Old Batchelor_, and
_Ben_, in _Love for Love_, no Author and Actor could be more obliged to
their mutual masterly Performances. He was very acceptable to several
Persons of high Rank and Taste: Tho' he seldom car'd to be the Comedian
but among his more intimate Acquaintance.
And now let me ask the World a Question. When Men have any valuable
Qualities, why are the generality of our modern Wits so fond of exposing
their Failings only, which the wisest of Mankind will never wholly be
free from? Is it of more use to the Publick to know their Errors than
their Perfections? Why is the Account of Life to be so unequally stated?
Though a Man may be sometimes Debtor to Sense or Morality, is it not
doing him Wrong not to let the World see, at the same time, how far he
may be Creditor to both? Are Defects and Disproportions to be the only
labour'd Features in a Portrait? But perhaps such Authors may know how
to please the Worl
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