"Here was, first of all, crowds against other crowds driving,Like wind and tide meeting, each contrary striving;Shrill fiddling, sharp fighting, and shouting and shrieking,Fifes, trumpets, drums, bagpipes, and barrow-girls squeaking,Come, my rare round and sound, here's choice of fine ware,Thoughallwas not sound sold atBartelmewFair.There was drolls, hornpipe-dancing, and showing of postures,With frying black-puddings, and opening of oysters;With salt-boxes, solo's, and gallery folks squawling;The tap-house guests roaring, and mouth-pieces bawling;Pimps, pawnbrokers, strollers, fat landladies, sailors,Bawds, baillies, jilts, jockeys, thieves, tumblers, and taylors:Here's Punch's whole play of the Gunpowder plot,Wild beasts all alive, and pease-pudding all hot,Fine sausages fried, and the black on the wire;The whole court of France, and nice pig at the fire;Here's the up-and-downs, who'll take a seat in the chair?Tho' there's more up-and-downs than at Bartelmew Fair.Here's Whittington's cat, and the tall dromedary,The chaise without horses, and Queen of Hungary;Here's the merry-go-rounds, 'Come, who rides? come, who rides?' Sir;Wine, beer, ale, and cakes, fire-eating besides, Sir.The fam'd learned dog, that can tell all his letters;And some men, as scholars, are not much his betters."Drury-lane Theatre was much improved in 1762, by lengthening the stage, enlarging the boxes and pit, and rebuilding the galleries. This alteration probably originated from the hopes of additional profit. Another in the management had its rise from the same cause; but the publick were less satisfied than with the former, as in the latter the advantage was by no means mutual between the proprietors and their patrons. The managers intimated that nothing under full prices would be taken during the performance; and the intimation received no opposition till January 1763: at that period symptoms of resistance appeared; and the publick complained that the time had been when they were admitted to the boxes for 4s.6d.to witness plays performed by Booth, Wilkes, Cibber, Doggett, Norris, Penkethman, Johnson, Griffin, Porter, and Oldfield; and were then compelled to pay 5s.to hearhalf a playacted by Garrick, Cibber, Yates,King[236:A], Packer[236:A], Holland, Obrien[236:B], Bransby, Palmer, and Ackman.The audience of Covent-garden Theatre seized the first opportunity of demanding that full prices should no longer be insisted upon for half plays and the farce, except when new pieces were represented; and received a promise from the proprietors of acceding to their wishes.Mr. Garrick of Drury-lane Theatre resisted, and published this notice in the Advertiser:"The Managers of Drury-lane Theatre having been suddenly called upon last night, to answer the charge of an innovation in regard to their prices, Mr. Garrick acquainted the audience that he was not conscious that the managers had done any thing in this respect, in which they were not fully authorised by the established usage of the Theatre; and that, if there had been the slightest innovation, it should be rectified:—and this unexpected complaint being grounded on the assertion contained in a printed paper, which had beenthe same day industriously circulated in Coffee-houses, and distributed through every part of the Theatre, Mr. Garrick promised to publish a full answer to the charges contained in that paper; but, the clamour still continuing, the performance of the play was entirely prevented. The Managers, therefore, find themselves under the necessity of informing the publick, that a full and satisfactory answer will be published accordingly; and it is hoped that they will, with their usual candour, suspend their judgment on this occasion till the appearance of such answer, which will be in a few days."The Tragedy of "Elvira" was announced for the evening succeeding the above address; and the Theatre was filled by a number of persons, who were determined to enforce their resolution of seeing plays as usual at half price. They commenced their operations by ordering the orchestra to play the musick of "Roast-beef" and "Britons strike home," which was complied with. When Mr. Holland appeared to speak the Prologue, he was immediately driven from the stage: Mr. Garrick then came on, and endeavoured to explain his reasons for the alteration complained of; but in vain, and the tumult was excessive. The following question at length issued from the pit: "Will you, or will you not, give admittance for half price after the third act, except during the first winter of a new Pantomime?" The Manageragain attempted to explain without effect:yes, orno, were the only words granted him.Yes, accompanied by an expression of indignation, escaped the lips of Roscius; and the Theatre shook with sounds of triumph.Mr. Ackman, who had offended the audience on the evening when this affair was first noticed by the publick, then received a summons to appear and apologise for his conduct: this order he promptly obeyed; but our old veteran Moody, when called upon for the same purpose, seemed refractory, or was misconceived, through the noise which issued from all parts of the Theatre. The audience commanded him, in consequence, to drop upon one knee, and thus solicit their pardon: this imperious order justly roused the actor's resentment, and he retired without compliance. Mr. Garrick was afterwards obliged to promise, Mr. Moody should not appear again upon his stage till he had appeased their displeasure: the play then went on as usual.Mr. Beard conceived himself under the necessity of publishing "The case concerning the late disturbance at Covent-garden Theatre fairly stated, and submitted to the sense of the publick in general," which follows."As the opposition tofull priceat Drury-lane Theatre was founded upon the pretence of its having been exacted on unjustifiable occasions, it was imagined, that let what would be the eventof that dispute, the Managers of Covent-garden Theatre ought in no sort to be affected by it, as no such complaint had ever been pretended against them; yet, when Mr. Garrick thought proper to wave his private advantage, for the sake of the public peace, it was deemed necessary for the same laudable purpose, to perform such pieces only for the present at Covent-garden, as could by no means bring the point, which had been so lately and so violently agitated, into immediate debate again, and even latter account was taken toLove in a Village."When the Opera ofArtaxerxeswas revived (a piece as distinct from the common course of business as even anOratorioitself), it was generally understood, the peculiarity of the performance, together with the apparent extraordinary expence attending it, would sufficiently exempt it from the limitations which had been prescribed at the other Theatre; accordingly it was advertised, in the same manner it had ever been, atfull price.—Mr. Beard received some private hints the evening before the intended representation, though not till after the bill was sent to the press, that an opposition was intended by some particular persons; but flattered himself that the candour and justice of the Public in general would distinguish in a case so particularly circumstanced; and when he was called upon the stage, would have humbly offered suchreasons, as, had they been calmly and dispassionately heard, might possibly have prevented the violence which ensued. In this he was continually prevented by an incessant and clamourous demand of a general and decisiveYesorNo.—As Manager only, and Trustee for other Proprietors, he thought himself totally unimpowered to resign up their rights by so sudden and concise a conveyance; and, as the point in dispute was an essential matter of Property, conceived their concurrence absolutely necessary to any determination on his part, which, at this juncture, was impossible to be obtained.—In this difficult situation, where acquiescence subjected him to a breach of that trust which had been reposed in him, and refusal exposed him to insult and displeasure, his submitting rather to the latter, than be guilty of the former, it is hoped, will be deemed an offence not altogether worthy so severe a resentment."However unfortunately he may have incurred the imputation of insolence, obstinacy, or at least imprudence, in not immediately submitting to the demands proposed; yet, when it is considered that these demands were enforced by part of the audience only, and that he had then great reason to believe such submission would be very far from producing the salutary effect of theatrical tranquillity, he may not perhaps be judged so blameable."Mr. Beard had at that time received several anonymous threatening letters and notices concerning many other branches of what they callreformation.—He was ordered by one to add a farce toLove in a Village, or the house should be pulled about his ears.—By another, he was commanded to put a stop to the farther representation of that Opera, upon the penalty of enforcing his compliance by a riot the next night of performance; and very lately received certain information of meetings which have already been held, and an association forming, to reduce the prices at the Theatre to what they were forty years since, though it is notorious the expence of theatrical entertainments are more than doubled. For these reasons, he looked upon the occasion of the present disturbance only as a prelude to future violence; as the first, not the last salutation of this extraordinary kind, to be expected; and apprehended, that too easy an acquiescence might possibly prove rather encouragement than prevention."Nevertheless, in gratitude for the many favours and indulgences received from the Publick, and from an earnest desire to promote that order and decorum so essential in all public assemblies, the proprietors have now jointly authorized Mr. Beard to declare, that they shall think themselves equally bound with the Managers of the otherTheatre, to an observance of those limitations which they have agreed to."Mr. Beard, though sensible how unworthy an object his character is for the attention of the Publick, yet hopes his zeal to have it appear in a fair light will not be deemed impertinence, and therefore begs leave to mention one occurrence that relates particularly to himself. It has been industriously reported, that both before and after Mr. Garrick's submission to the point in dispute, he himself had expressly promised to give it up likewise, but has now insolently dared to resume a right, which he had already disclaimed. How incapable Mr. Beard is of such a conduct, he flatters himself those who know him will testify: to those who do not, it may not be unnecessary solemnly to declare, that so far from ever making such a promise, he constantly insisted, that it neither was in his power or intention to comply with the demand.John Beard."This imprudent statement might have produced fatal consequences, had the Police been as little attentive to the preservation of the public peace as Mr. Beard: on the contrary, the Magistrates held a meeting, and issued an intimation that every riotous proceeding would be immediately checked, and the perpetrators prosecuted under the Act which contains this clause: "That if any persons unlawfully, riotously, and tumultuouslyassemble together, to the disturbance of the public peace, shall unlawfully, and with force, demolish or pull down, or begin to demolish or pull down, any dwelling-house, house, barn, stable, or other out-house, they shall be adjudged felons; and on conviction, shall suffer death, as in cases of felony, without benefit of clergy."The evening of March 3, proved the truth of my assertion, that Mr. Beard had acted imprudently in publishing his address. Covent-garden Theatre was crowded by gentlemen that seemed little affected by the threats of the Police, who began the operations of the night by calling for "Hearts of Oak," and "Britons, strike home;" and, when the curtain rose, a tumult commenced, which soon drove the actors from their presence; and the name of Beard echoed from every side of the house. That gentleman appeared, and, alarmed at his previous temerity, declared he had complied with their request in publick, and came before them to confirm it. This declaration was in part approved; but the audience required that all prosecutions against individuals, by the Managers, originating in this dispute, should be immediately discontinued. Mr. Beard assented as far as related to himself, and retired. Exasperated by this evasion, another and more spirited effort succeeded; and behold the Manager once more before his Judges, prepared to promise any thing and every thing the audience demanded.Violent applause followed, and the play was begun without interruption about forty minutes after seven o'clock.The Peace of 1763 was celebrated with uncommon splendour throughout Europe, and particularly in St. James's Park, where a grand fire-work was exhibited. Our amiable Queen, animated by the same impulse, contrived an amusement for his Majesty on his birth-night equally calculated to surprise and please. The Queen induced her royal consort to pass several days previous to the 4th of June at St. James's; and in that interval a great number of persons were employed in preparing a superb temple and bridge, to be illuminated with upwards of 4000 lamps, in the gardens of Buckingham-house. Such was the secrecy used, that the King entertained not the least suspicion of the design in progress, and was consequently astonished on returning to the above palace at ten o'clock, when the window-shutters were suddenly thrown open, at the brilliancy of the scene, which presented an orchestra containing upwards of fifty performers led by Dr. Boyce, amongst whom were the most eminent singers of the day, and the front of a temple ornamented with emblematic paintings conveying the most grateful intimations.The following article, extracted from the London Chronicle for August 1763, must produce a sensation of regret in the recollection of thosewho were partial to the amusements of Ranelagh:"The only defect in the elegance and beauty of the amphitheatre at Ranelagh, is an improper and inconvenient orchestra, which, breaking into the area of that superb room about twenty feet farther than it ought to do, destroys the symmetry of the whole, and diffuses the sound of the musick with such irregular rapidity, that the harmonious articulations escape the nicest ear, when placed in the most commodious attitude: it also hurts the eye upon your first entry."To remedy these defects, a plan has been drawn by Messrs. Wale and Gwin, for adding a new orchestra, which, being furnished with a well-proportioned curvature over it, will contract into narrower bounds the modulations of the voice, and render every note more distinctly audible. It will by its form operate upon the musical sounds in the same manner as concave glasses affect the rays of light by collecting them into a focus. The front of this orchestra being planned so as to range parallel to the balustrade, the whole area also will be disencumbered of every obstruction that might incommode the audience in their circular walk. There is likewise provision made in this plan for a stage capable of containing 30 or 40 performers, to officiate as chorus-singers, or otherwise assist in giving anadditional solemnity on any extraordinary occasion."This, or a similar plan, was afterwards adopted.The irregularities mentioned in a preceding page as having occurred at Vauxhall were noticed on the day appointed for licensing places of amusement in 1763, when the proprietor pledged himself that the dark walks should thenceforward be lighted, no bad women, known to be such, admitted, and that a sufficient number of watchmen should be provided to keep the peace.The ridiculous custom of placing two centinels on the stage during the performance of plays was not discontinued in the above year, as a soldier employed for that purpose highly entertained an audience in October by laughing at the character of Sir Andrew Ague-cheek in Twelfth-night, till he actually fell convulsed upon the floor.Violence and exertion are common occurrences at the doors of the English Theatres every evening when pieces or performers of superior attraction are to be seen; but it very rarely happens that those marks of ill-breeding are practised at the entrances of the Opera-house. When the Hereditary Prince of Brunswick went to the Opera in January 1764, the eagerness of a titled and fashionablemobwas such, that the male part fought their way with drawn swords, the females fainted, and lost shoes, caps, ruffles, &c. &c.quite as rapidly as those they condescended to imitate at the other Theatres.A letter signed "Theatricus," inserted in the London Chronicle, vol. XV. contains a rapid but masterly sketch of the state of Theatrical amusements between 1700 and 1763. Under this impression I shall transfer it to this work:"A DISSERTATION ON THE THEATRE."Since I was a boy, I have been an admirer of the Drama, and have, for near sixty years past, observed the revolutions of the stage (in England and Ireland) more than those of the State."The first play I remember to have seen wasThe Maid's Tragedyin the year 1710; the famous Mr. Betterton acted Melanthius; he died the week following, after having been above fifty years the ornament of the stage. With great satisfaction I recollect the memorable theatrical year 1712, whenCatowas first acted: never were the expectations of the Town more fully satisfied, nor more emulation shewn by the performers. I was at that time in the first form at Westminster-school; our master offered a premium of a gilt Horace for the best Latin translation ofCato'ssoliloquy in the fifth act. I had sufficient vanity to be one of the candidates; but, to my great mortification, was told, 'that it was a good first attempt,' and saw the premiumdelivered to my class-fellow, who, a few years ago, enjoyed one of the best deaneries in the church."My uncle used frequently to take me of a Sunday evening to Button's Coffee-house; it was there I first saw Addison and Congreve; he was intimate with Sir Richard Steele, and belonged to a club with the unfortunate Mr. Budgell."I remember the stage in its greatest glory, during the management of Wilks, Booth, and Cibber; its decline under the elegant but unfortunate Fleetwood; and its revival, with uncommon lustre, under Garrick. I must do justice to this last mentioned performer in saying, that it is to him alone we owe the bringing of Tragedy nearer to Nature than in the days of the Triumvirate. This one of them confessed to me not a year before his death; for formerly a turgid vociferation, or effeminate whine, were mistaken for the best display of the heroic and tender passions; but these caricatures are neglected for the real likenesses, which that great master of his art, Garrick, has truly delineated. I have often wished that the Stage could be brought under the regulations hinted at by Mr. Addison; then it would be, to use his own words, 'a source of the highest and most rational amusement.'"I look upon the principal structures of the Drama, to beTragedyandComedy; the most interesting circumstances ofTragedymay bereduced to two different heads,viz.the elevated (such as Julius Cæsar, Coriolanus, &c.) and the tender and affecting (as Romeo, and the Orphan); but that tragedy must ever have the preference which unites the pathetic with the sublime."Tragedyshould never go beyond the natural; that which is great in it never goes farther than heroism; it is a living picture, so that its beauty consists in its resemblance with the truth."Comedyis a feigned action, in which is represented the ridiculous, in order to correct it; it rebukes with a smile, and corrects with a facetious stroke: the matter of comedy is civil life, of which it is an imitation: it ought to be every where enlivened with all possible care, to have fine and easy strokes of wit and satire, which present the ridiculous in the most glaring point of view; it should be pure, easy, and natural, have no borrowed passions or constrained actions; morality and instruction ought to be infused into the several parts, so that we might feel instruction, but not see it."Tragedy imitates the beautiful, and the great; Comedy imitates the ridiculous: one elevates the soul, and forms the heart; the other polishes the behaviour, and corrects the manners. Tragedy humanizes us by compassion, and restrains us by fear; Comedy makes us laugh, because the faults of the little are trifling, we fear not their consequences."If examples have some force and life when trusted to paper, how much greater must their vigour be, when they live in the player, and are moved and speak in the most lofty sentiments, and all the eloquence of action. The spectator imagines that a series of ages having revolved back, and the distance of places being contracted, he is suddenly conveyed into those places and ages, in which the subject of the drama happened; or else, that past times being renewed, the subject is again acted in his presence. You do not on these occasions read silently in your closet the illustrious acts of antient heroes, who have immortalized themselves by the love they displayed for their country, their parents, their children, &c. These wonderful men are called from their tombs where they have so long slumbered, appear again in the world, and you behold their generous, their pious strife."In Athens the Stage was impowered by the Legislature to instruct the ignorant vulgar, and, as a censor, to reform the rude populace; it was its duty to make Tragedy a school of wisdom, and Comedy of reproof. The poets rendered the Theatre beneficial to the world, by appointing Tragedy to calm the passions by terror and pity, and Comedy to reform the mind by ridicule and censure. The duty of the Poet was, as Horace expresses it—aut prodesse aut delectare."I am sorry to say that some of our comic writers have been too fond of familiarizing their audiences to vice; and we need make no doubt that the immorality of the stage has contributed to the depravity of manners too visible amongst all ranks of people, and fulfils what Juvenal says,——nullâ virtute redemptumA vitiis.——"FarceI consider as the gleanings of the Drama. I remember when it was seldom used; those who have seen the Theatrical Calendar for the years 1708 and 1709, will confirm what I assert. Dogget, one of the first Comedians of his time, was three years before he could obtain leave to have his farce ofThe Country Wakeperformed; and, when granted, it was provided he acted the principal part (Hob). Farquhar, from the success of his comedies, and interest with the Duke of Ormond his patron, obtained leave for his farce ofThe Stage Coach; and Cibber, with great difficulty, brought on hisSchool Boy; before these times the plays of Shakspeare, Jonson, &c. did not need the aid of farce. It must be allowed, that the farces by Garrick, and some by Foote, have met with much success, and abound with theutile dulci; but the generality of those now in possession of the Stage are, as Dryden says, 'a compound of extravagances, fit only to entertain such people as are judges of neither men nor manners.' To confirm this greatPoet's opinion, I appeal to those who have seen a new farce last season at Crow-street Theatre, devoid both of wit and satire, and composed of vulgar phrases, beneath a Bartholomew-fair droll; however, I applaud the author for not printing it; if he had, it must certainly have suffered the fate it most justly deserved, to be condemned by all its readers[252:A]."Pantomimefirst dawned, in the year 1702, at Drury-lane, in an entertainment, called,The Tavern Bilkers; it died the fifth night. It was invented by Weaver, a dancing-master at Shrewsbury, who, from the encouragement of the Nobility, invented a second, calledThe Loves of Mars and Venus, performed at the same Theatre, in the year 1716, with vast success; which occasioned Sir Richard Steele to write the following lines on the back of one of the play-bills at Button's Coffee-house."Weaver, corrupter of this present age,"Who first taught silent sins upon the stage.It was about this time that the taste of the Town became vitiated: one remarkable instance I cannot forget. In January 1717 some dancers arrived from France, and with them one Swartz, a German. This man brought over two dogs, whom he had taught to dance the louvre and minuet; they were immediately engaged by Rich,at ten poundspernight, and brought above twenty good houses, when the Othello of Booth, the Wildair of Wilks, and the Foppington of Cibber, were neglected, and did not bring charges. The town, who were formerly unanimous in supporting the stage, now were formed into different parties; some preferred sense to sound, others were for the Opera and Pantomime, and the actors, as Colley Cibber remarks, 'were very near being wholly laid aside, or, at least, the use of their labour was to be swallowed up, in the pretended merit of singing and dancing.' I must, however, not forget to mention, that a few years ago, some ladies of the first distinction, eminent for their just taste, entered into a society, and distinguished by the name of the Shakspeare Club, in order to support his plays on the stage. Many verses were written on this occasion; one stanza I remember:"No more shall Merit's passion fail,Since Beauty wit and knowledge prize,Whose bright example shall prevail,And make it fashion to be wise."I must do justice to the managers of the Dublin Theatres, in commending their care and assiduity to please the Town; and could wish, instead of importing from Sadler's-wells wire-dancers, &c. they would revive some select plays of Shakspeare and Jonson."I have at my leisure hours drawn up the following scale of the merits of the performers on the Irish stage; I have no connections with either Theatre or Managers, but am a lover of Truth and the Drama. I am, &c.Theatricus."Dublin."AScaleof the Merits of the Performers on the Irish Stage, 1763.Men.Trag.Com.Women.Trag.Com.Barry2010Dancer1416Mossop156Fitz-Henry146Sheridan156Abington018Macklin815Hamilton1012Sowdon1312Kennedy810Dexter1012Kelf810T. Barry108Barry810Ryder612Jefferson68Stamper012Ambrose08Sparks012Mahon06Jefferson810Roach06Heaphy68Parsons06Reddish68Walker08Glover48Mahon46The doors of the Theatres were openedcirca1765 before five o'clock, and the house thus filled gradually. The present method of opening one hour before the commencement of the performance occasions great confusion, and frequent injury to individuals.Mrs.CornelyDied in the Fleet-prison at a very advanced age in 1797. She was born in Germany, and, having talents for singing, performed publicly in her native country and Italy. Mrs. Cornely arrived in England about 1756 or 7; and being a woman of much taste and address, and possessed of many accomplishments, she soon received the patronage those advantages excited. To continue the celebrity thus obtained, she explored the regions of fancy, and exhausted every art, to contrive fascinating amusements for the eager publick, who crowded to Carlisle-house, Soho-square, as the very focus of pleasure and entertainment. While this lady confined her exertions to mere frivolous and fashionable enticements, she succeeded admirably; but, wishing to soar beyond her sphere in endeavouring to establish a musical meeting, the Proprietors of the Opera-house became alarmed, and applied to the Civil power to suppress what they deemed an unwarrantable rivalship. This was easily accomplished; and Mrs. Cornely had the mortification to find herself considerably involved without a hope of remuneration; but her concerts, balls, and masquerades were continued with advantage, though her influence insensibly declined; and other attractions, particularly the Pantheon, withdrawing many of her patrons, she was at length compelled to relinquish her pretensions to public favour, and flyfrom the menaces of her creditors, whose number and demands were very considerable. It is said that she remained in concealment for many years under the name of Smith; but, her active spirit being still unsubdued, she ventured once more as a candidate for public favour in the strange profession of a keeper of Asses at Knightsbridge, where she fitted up a suite of rooms for the reception of visitors to breakfast in public, and regale themselves with the milk of that patient and enduring animal. The success of this enterprise may be anticipated: a second flight from her creditors, and the catastrophe of the Fleet-prison, closed the scene.The above slight outline of the life of this singular female will explain some subsequent parts of this Chapter. Mrs. Cornely is said to have expended near 2000l.in 1765 in altering and embellishing Carlisle-house.In the year 1766 the Patentees and persons employed about Drury-lane Theatre commenced a subscription, in order to establish a fund for the support and relief of such performers and others belonging to the Theatre as through age, infirmity, or accident, should be obliged to retire from the stage. To this sum the Patentees gave benefit-plays, and some benevolent persons not connected with the Theatre augmented it by donations. In 1776, the amount of their principal was 3400l., which the managers vested in thepublic funds, and a house in Drury-lane that let for 50l.per annum; since which period it is still farther increased.Partnerships too frequently produce dissentions and a struggle for individual power: the publick was called upon in 1768 to witness the truth of this observation in a letter from T. Harris to G. Colman on the affairs of Covent-garden Theatre, which, with the answer, follows:"The schemes and arts (says Mr. Harris) that you have practised to creep into an exclusive management, and in consequence of that into an exclusive possession, were various, and incessant in their operations. But, among them all, your favourite scheme to that end, was that of being thought an able and successful manager; and to support that character, it is incredible to those who know not your arts, what an enormous burthen it hath been to the partnership: not less than thirty, forty, fifty, and sixty pounds in orders, were generally sent into the Theatre each night; and on one night in particular, in support of one of your pieces, upwards of one hundred pounds. Thus, Sir, you supported your fame, at the expence of our common property."The next day (June the 12th) by accident I and Mr. Rutherford severally met Mr. Sarjant's son, one of our box-keepers, who informed us, that Mr. Colman had taken away the keys of all the doors in the Theatre, and that the doors wereall barred and bolted, but that, if we applied, we alone might be admitted through Mr. Powell's house in the Piazza, in which there was a door which communicated with the Theatre."Being well advised that we could not justify entering our own premises through another man's house, and being well aware of your —— disposition, we determined not to go into the Theatre through the house of Mr. Powell, who was then at Bristol.—We therefore, on Monday the 13th of June, sent a servant with a written order for admittance: he was refused by Mr. Sarjant, who urged your express order for that purpose. We then desired two gentlemen to accompany us to the Theatre, and in their hearing demanded entrance of Mr. Sarjant, who answered us, thrusting his head out of a barred window, that Mr. Colman had got all the keys of the doors, and he could not let us in. We immediately dispatched Mr. Sarjant junior, whom we met under the Piazza, to you, Sir, with our compliments, desiring you to send the keys of the Theatre, informing you, that we were then waiting with two friends, and wished to take a walk in the Theatre. He very soon returned with this answer (delivered in the hearing of the above-mentioned two gentlemen): 'That you would not send the keys; that you had ordered all ingress to the Theatre to be denied us, except through Mr. Powell's house; and even that way, we, and weonly,must enter.' With this very extraordinary rebuff we returned to our respective homes. The time between this event and Friday morning, we passed in reflection upon your unaccountable treatment of us; and in consulting and advising with several gentlemen of great eminence in all departments of the law; who all concurred in assuring us that no damage could arise to us from entering our own premises, and turning our own servants out, who refused us admittance. Accordingly, on the 17th June, after six o'clock, Mr. Harris, attended by two witnesses, again demanded admittance for himself and Mr. Rutherford, at Mr. Sarjant's door; he answered from within, in the hearing of the witnesses, that, by Mr. Colman's order, they would not admit us. Harris then came to the door in Hart-street, where Mr. Rutherford was waiting for him, attended by some servants, and told him the result of his demand at Mr. Sarjant's door; whereupon Harris and Rutherford ordered their servants to open a window on the North side of the said door, where they entered with their servants. One of your servants, who kept possession of the Theatre for you, having struck one of ours, it was with the greatest difficulty we could prevent ours from doing mischief to their opponents; we were therefore obliged to turn them all out of the Theatre. Being thus in possession, we began immediately to take a survey of the place; andnever were men so much astonished as we were, to find ourselves in so complete a fortification. Emery, the master-carpenter to the Theatre, coming at that instant, we ordered him to be let in; and taking him about the Theatre with us, we observed to him howadvantageouslyhe and his men had been employed for the last week or two in cutting our boards and timber to pieces in order to bar and fortify every avenue and window in the house, even those which were thirty or forty feet from the ground. The fellow, with a good deal of awkward embarrassment, scratching his head, replied, 'Why, Gentlemen, I told Mr. Colman, all I could do would signify nothing against a sledge-hammer. I thought,' says he, 'it was a strange undertaking.' We then asked him, if he too was engaged by Mr. Colman; he said he was. On our telling him it was unaccountable to us how house-keeper, wardrobe-keeper, and carpenters, should think of entering into articles; he confessed he never heard of any such thing before in his life, but that Mr. Colman had taken him one day entirely unguarded, and in a manner compelled him immediately to sign an article. The more we examined the Theatre, the more we were astonished at your excessive precaution to prevent our getting into it. On the same day we sent you a letter from the Theatre, importing, 'That we did not mean to retaliate your behaviour; on the contrary, wehad given orders to our servants, at all times to admit you and Mr. Powell.'"Reflecting now very considerately on our situation, and on your past conduct; 'That you had from the beginning laid a plan of driving us out of the Theatre; that, in the execution of that plan, you had persevered through the whole season, paying no more regard to us than if we were entirely unconcerned in the property; that you had very essentially hurt the whole property, and the profits of the past season in particular; that, in fine, you had engaged to act under your direction solely every person belonging to the Theatre, upon pain of large penalties; and had at last absolutely forbid our entrance into our own house:' For these reasons we determined to remove from the Theatre, to one of our dwelling-houses, such part of the property as might the most effectually prevent your proceedings, until a plan should be formed, which would as effectually confirm to us those legal and equitable rights in the Theatre, of which you had so unwarrantably divested us."With this view only, we sent down to my house in Surrey-street, so much of the wardrobe as we imagined would make the remaining part useless, together with the musick, prompt-books, &c. &c. belonging to the Theatre; of all which we have an exact inventory, and they will beimmediately and safely returned to the Theatre, whenever a fair and equitable plan for the future government of it shall be fixed upon. It has been urged by some, that it would have been much better for us at once to have applied to the Court of Chancery for redress, and that there we must have found a certain relief, and reparation for all past damages: this too, Sir, has been always your language—'If I injure you, why don't you apply to the Court of Chancery for redress?'"There is no doubt, Sir, the Court of Chancery would redress us. But delays are dangerous. Of this the history of the acting Manager, recorded by Cibber, is amemento. A long Chancery suit would be but a very poor remedy for the injuries you are daily doing us."About a month since we were again amused by you with the hopes of a fair reference.—By our respective counsel a meeting was appointed for all parties in Westminster-hall. We there met, in order, if possible, to fix on a mode of arbitrating all differences; both parties brought preliminary articles to be agreed to, before the general concerns should be referred. On our part were produced these two:"1st. That the contracts which you might have made without our knowledge and consent, for the ensuing season, should be rescinded, unless agreed to by us."2d. That no servants who were employed in shutting us out of our own house, should be employed in future."Surely these can never be deemed unreasonable by any person, when at the same time he is assured that we never wish, nor ever did wish, to engage any performer, servant, &c. &c. who should be objected to by Mr. Colman and Mr. Powell."You, Sir, on your part, insisted on the following eight preliminaries."1st. Colman and Powell should not be obliged to sell."Meaning, we conceive, that if the referees should think it necessary to oblige either of the parties to sell, it must be Harris and Rutherford."2d. All contracts to be made by Mr. Colman to be confirmed."Can this be a reasonable preliminary, to be obliged to confirm all contracts made by you, without having the least knowledge how many, with whom, or upon what condition, they were entered into? For we are at this time entire and absolute strangers to all your late proceedings, except what we gather from uncertain report, and some few of the parties who have engaged with you.
"Here was, first of all, crowds against other crowds driving,Like wind and tide meeting, each contrary striving;Shrill fiddling, sharp fighting, and shouting and shrieking,Fifes, trumpets, drums, bagpipes, and barrow-girls squeaking,Come, my rare round and sound, here's choice of fine ware,Thoughallwas not sound sold atBartelmewFair.There was drolls, hornpipe-dancing, and showing of postures,With frying black-puddings, and opening of oysters;With salt-boxes, solo's, and gallery folks squawling;The tap-house guests roaring, and mouth-pieces bawling;Pimps, pawnbrokers, strollers, fat landladies, sailors,Bawds, baillies, jilts, jockeys, thieves, tumblers, and taylors:Here's Punch's whole play of the Gunpowder plot,Wild beasts all alive, and pease-pudding all hot,Fine sausages fried, and the black on the wire;The whole court of France, and nice pig at the fire;Here's the up-and-downs, who'll take a seat in the chair?Tho' there's more up-and-downs than at Bartelmew Fair.Here's Whittington's cat, and the tall dromedary,The chaise without horses, and Queen of Hungary;Here's the merry-go-rounds, 'Come, who rides? come, who rides?' Sir;Wine, beer, ale, and cakes, fire-eating besides, Sir.The fam'd learned dog, that can tell all his letters;And some men, as scholars, are not much his betters."
"Here was, first of all, crowds against other crowds driving,Like wind and tide meeting, each contrary striving;Shrill fiddling, sharp fighting, and shouting and shrieking,Fifes, trumpets, drums, bagpipes, and barrow-girls squeaking,Come, my rare round and sound, here's choice of fine ware,Thoughallwas not sound sold atBartelmewFair.There was drolls, hornpipe-dancing, and showing of postures,With frying black-puddings, and opening of oysters;With salt-boxes, solo's, and gallery folks squawling;The tap-house guests roaring, and mouth-pieces bawling;Pimps, pawnbrokers, strollers, fat landladies, sailors,Bawds, baillies, jilts, jockeys, thieves, tumblers, and taylors:Here's Punch's whole play of the Gunpowder plot,Wild beasts all alive, and pease-pudding all hot,Fine sausages fried, and the black on the wire;The whole court of France, and nice pig at the fire;Here's the up-and-downs, who'll take a seat in the chair?Tho' there's more up-and-downs than at Bartelmew Fair.Here's Whittington's cat, and the tall dromedary,The chaise without horses, and Queen of Hungary;Here's the merry-go-rounds, 'Come, who rides? come, who rides?' Sir;Wine, beer, ale, and cakes, fire-eating besides, Sir.The fam'd learned dog, that can tell all his letters;And some men, as scholars, are not much his betters."
"Here was, first of all, crowds against other crowds driving,
Like wind and tide meeting, each contrary striving;
Shrill fiddling, sharp fighting, and shouting and shrieking,
Fifes, trumpets, drums, bagpipes, and barrow-girls squeaking,
Come, my rare round and sound, here's choice of fine ware,
Thoughallwas not sound sold atBartelmewFair.
There was drolls, hornpipe-dancing, and showing of postures,
With frying black-puddings, and opening of oysters;
With salt-boxes, solo's, and gallery folks squawling;
The tap-house guests roaring, and mouth-pieces bawling;
Pimps, pawnbrokers, strollers, fat landladies, sailors,
Bawds, baillies, jilts, jockeys, thieves, tumblers, and taylors:
Here's Punch's whole play of the Gunpowder plot,
Wild beasts all alive, and pease-pudding all hot,
Fine sausages fried, and the black on the wire;
The whole court of France, and nice pig at the fire;
Here's the up-and-downs, who'll take a seat in the chair?
Tho' there's more up-and-downs than at Bartelmew Fair.
Here's Whittington's cat, and the tall dromedary,
The chaise without horses, and Queen of Hungary;
Here's the merry-go-rounds, 'Come, who rides? come, who rides?' Sir;
Wine, beer, ale, and cakes, fire-eating besides, Sir.
The fam'd learned dog, that can tell all his letters;
And some men, as scholars, are not much his betters."
Drury-lane Theatre was much improved in 1762, by lengthening the stage, enlarging the boxes and pit, and rebuilding the galleries. This alteration probably originated from the hopes of additional profit. Another in the management had its rise from the same cause; but the publick were less satisfied than with the former, as in the latter the advantage was by no means mutual between the proprietors and their patrons. The managers intimated that nothing under full prices would be taken during the performance; and the intimation received no opposition till January 1763: at that period symptoms of resistance appeared; and the publick complained that the time had been when they were admitted to the boxes for 4s.6d.to witness plays performed by Booth, Wilkes, Cibber, Doggett, Norris, Penkethman, Johnson, Griffin, Porter, and Oldfield; and were then compelled to pay 5s.to hearhalf a playacted by Garrick, Cibber, Yates,King[236:A], Packer[236:A], Holland, Obrien[236:B], Bransby, Palmer, and Ackman.
The audience of Covent-garden Theatre seized the first opportunity of demanding that full prices should no longer be insisted upon for half plays and the farce, except when new pieces were represented; and received a promise from the proprietors of acceding to their wishes.
Mr. Garrick of Drury-lane Theatre resisted, and published this notice in the Advertiser:
"The Managers of Drury-lane Theatre having been suddenly called upon last night, to answer the charge of an innovation in regard to their prices, Mr. Garrick acquainted the audience that he was not conscious that the managers had done any thing in this respect, in which they were not fully authorised by the established usage of the Theatre; and that, if there had been the slightest innovation, it should be rectified:—and this unexpected complaint being grounded on the assertion contained in a printed paper, which had beenthe same day industriously circulated in Coffee-houses, and distributed through every part of the Theatre, Mr. Garrick promised to publish a full answer to the charges contained in that paper; but, the clamour still continuing, the performance of the play was entirely prevented. The Managers, therefore, find themselves under the necessity of informing the publick, that a full and satisfactory answer will be published accordingly; and it is hoped that they will, with their usual candour, suspend their judgment on this occasion till the appearance of such answer, which will be in a few days."
The Tragedy of "Elvira" was announced for the evening succeeding the above address; and the Theatre was filled by a number of persons, who were determined to enforce their resolution of seeing plays as usual at half price. They commenced their operations by ordering the orchestra to play the musick of "Roast-beef" and "Britons strike home," which was complied with. When Mr. Holland appeared to speak the Prologue, he was immediately driven from the stage: Mr. Garrick then came on, and endeavoured to explain his reasons for the alteration complained of; but in vain, and the tumult was excessive. The following question at length issued from the pit: "Will you, or will you not, give admittance for half price after the third act, except during the first winter of a new Pantomime?" The Manageragain attempted to explain without effect:yes, orno, were the only words granted him.Yes, accompanied by an expression of indignation, escaped the lips of Roscius; and the Theatre shook with sounds of triumph.
Mr. Ackman, who had offended the audience on the evening when this affair was first noticed by the publick, then received a summons to appear and apologise for his conduct: this order he promptly obeyed; but our old veteran Moody, when called upon for the same purpose, seemed refractory, or was misconceived, through the noise which issued from all parts of the Theatre. The audience commanded him, in consequence, to drop upon one knee, and thus solicit their pardon: this imperious order justly roused the actor's resentment, and he retired without compliance. Mr. Garrick was afterwards obliged to promise, Mr. Moody should not appear again upon his stage till he had appeased their displeasure: the play then went on as usual.
Mr. Beard conceived himself under the necessity of publishing "The case concerning the late disturbance at Covent-garden Theatre fairly stated, and submitted to the sense of the publick in general," which follows.
"As the opposition tofull priceat Drury-lane Theatre was founded upon the pretence of its having been exacted on unjustifiable occasions, it was imagined, that let what would be the eventof that dispute, the Managers of Covent-garden Theatre ought in no sort to be affected by it, as no such complaint had ever been pretended against them; yet, when Mr. Garrick thought proper to wave his private advantage, for the sake of the public peace, it was deemed necessary for the same laudable purpose, to perform such pieces only for the present at Covent-garden, as could by no means bring the point, which had been so lately and so violently agitated, into immediate debate again, and even latter account was taken toLove in a Village.
"When the Opera ofArtaxerxeswas revived (a piece as distinct from the common course of business as even anOratorioitself), it was generally understood, the peculiarity of the performance, together with the apparent extraordinary expence attending it, would sufficiently exempt it from the limitations which had been prescribed at the other Theatre; accordingly it was advertised, in the same manner it had ever been, atfull price.—Mr. Beard received some private hints the evening before the intended representation, though not till after the bill was sent to the press, that an opposition was intended by some particular persons; but flattered himself that the candour and justice of the Public in general would distinguish in a case so particularly circumstanced; and when he was called upon the stage, would have humbly offered suchreasons, as, had they been calmly and dispassionately heard, might possibly have prevented the violence which ensued. In this he was continually prevented by an incessant and clamourous demand of a general and decisiveYesorNo.—As Manager only, and Trustee for other Proprietors, he thought himself totally unimpowered to resign up their rights by so sudden and concise a conveyance; and, as the point in dispute was an essential matter of Property, conceived their concurrence absolutely necessary to any determination on his part, which, at this juncture, was impossible to be obtained.—In this difficult situation, where acquiescence subjected him to a breach of that trust which had been reposed in him, and refusal exposed him to insult and displeasure, his submitting rather to the latter, than be guilty of the former, it is hoped, will be deemed an offence not altogether worthy so severe a resentment.
"However unfortunately he may have incurred the imputation of insolence, obstinacy, or at least imprudence, in not immediately submitting to the demands proposed; yet, when it is considered that these demands were enforced by part of the audience only, and that he had then great reason to believe such submission would be very far from producing the salutary effect of theatrical tranquillity, he may not perhaps be judged so blameable.
"Mr. Beard had at that time received several anonymous threatening letters and notices concerning many other branches of what they callreformation.—He was ordered by one to add a farce toLove in a Village, or the house should be pulled about his ears.—By another, he was commanded to put a stop to the farther representation of that Opera, upon the penalty of enforcing his compliance by a riot the next night of performance; and very lately received certain information of meetings which have already been held, and an association forming, to reduce the prices at the Theatre to what they were forty years since, though it is notorious the expence of theatrical entertainments are more than doubled. For these reasons, he looked upon the occasion of the present disturbance only as a prelude to future violence; as the first, not the last salutation of this extraordinary kind, to be expected; and apprehended, that too easy an acquiescence might possibly prove rather encouragement than prevention.
"Nevertheless, in gratitude for the many favours and indulgences received from the Publick, and from an earnest desire to promote that order and decorum so essential in all public assemblies, the proprietors have now jointly authorized Mr. Beard to declare, that they shall think themselves equally bound with the Managers of the otherTheatre, to an observance of those limitations which they have agreed to.
"Mr. Beard, though sensible how unworthy an object his character is for the attention of the Publick, yet hopes his zeal to have it appear in a fair light will not be deemed impertinence, and therefore begs leave to mention one occurrence that relates particularly to himself. It has been industriously reported, that both before and after Mr. Garrick's submission to the point in dispute, he himself had expressly promised to give it up likewise, but has now insolently dared to resume a right, which he had already disclaimed. How incapable Mr. Beard is of such a conduct, he flatters himself those who know him will testify: to those who do not, it may not be unnecessary solemnly to declare, that so far from ever making such a promise, he constantly insisted, that it neither was in his power or intention to comply with the demand.
John Beard."
This imprudent statement might have produced fatal consequences, had the Police been as little attentive to the preservation of the public peace as Mr. Beard: on the contrary, the Magistrates held a meeting, and issued an intimation that every riotous proceeding would be immediately checked, and the perpetrators prosecuted under the Act which contains this clause: "That if any persons unlawfully, riotously, and tumultuouslyassemble together, to the disturbance of the public peace, shall unlawfully, and with force, demolish or pull down, or begin to demolish or pull down, any dwelling-house, house, barn, stable, or other out-house, they shall be adjudged felons; and on conviction, shall suffer death, as in cases of felony, without benefit of clergy."
The evening of March 3, proved the truth of my assertion, that Mr. Beard had acted imprudently in publishing his address. Covent-garden Theatre was crowded by gentlemen that seemed little affected by the threats of the Police, who began the operations of the night by calling for "Hearts of Oak," and "Britons, strike home;" and, when the curtain rose, a tumult commenced, which soon drove the actors from their presence; and the name of Beard echoed from every side of the house. That gentleman appeared, and, alarmed at his previous temerity, declared he had complied with their request in publick, and came before them to confirm it. This declaration was in part approved; but the audience required that all prosecutions against individuals, by the Managers, originating in this dispute, should be immediately discontinued. Mr. Beard assented as far as related to himself, and retired. Exasperated by this evasion, another and more spirited effort succeeded; and behold the Manager once more before his Judges, prepared to promise any thing and every thing the audience demanded.Violent applause followed, and the play was begun without interruption about forty minutes after seven o'clock.
The Peace of 1763 was celebrated with uncommon splendour throughout Europe, and particularly in St. James's Park, where a grand fire-work was exhibited. Our amiable Queen, animated by the same impulse, contrived an amusement for his Majesty on his birth-night equally calculated to surprise and please. The Queen induced her royal consort to pass several days previous to the 4th of June at St. James's; and in that interval a great number of persons were employed in preparing a superb temple and bridge, to be illuminated with upwards of 4000 lamps, in the gardens of Buckingham-house. Such was the secrecy used, that the King entertained not the least suspicion of the design in progress, and was consequently astonished on returning to the above palace at ten o'clock, when the window-shutters were suddenly thrown open, at the brilliancy of the scene, which presented an orchestra containing upwards of fifty performers led by Dr. Boyce, amongst whom were the most eminent singers of the day, and the front of a temple ornamented with emblematic paintings conveying the most grateful intimations.
The following article, extracted from the London Chronicle for August 1763, must produce a sensation of regret in the recollection of thosewho were partial to the amusements of Ranelagh:
"The only defect in the elegance and beauty of the amphitheatre at Ranelagh, is an improper and inconvenient orchestra, which, breaking into the area of that superb room about twenty feet farther than it ought to do, destroys the symmetry of the whole, and diffuses the sound of the musick with such irregular rapidity, that the harmonious articulations escape the nicest ear, when placed in the most commodious attitude: it also hurts the eye upon your first entry.
"To remedy these defects, a plan has been drawn by Messrs. Wale and Gwin, for adding a new orchestra, which, being furnished with a well-proportioned curvature over it, will contract into narrower bounds the modulations of the voice, and render every note more distinctly audible. It will by its form operate upon the musical sounds in the same manner as concave glasses affect the rays of light by collecting them into a focus. The front of this orchestra being planned so as to range parallel to the balustrade, the whole area also will be disencumbered of every obstruction that might incommode the audience in their circular walk. There is likewise provision made in this plan for a stage capable of containing 30 or 40 performers, to officiate as chorus-singers, or otherwise assist in giving anadditional solemnity on any extraordinary occasion."
This, or a similar plan, was afterwards adopted.
The irregularities mentioned in a preceding page as having occurred at Vauxhall were noticed on the day appointed for licensing places of amusement in 1763, when the proprietor pledged himself that the dark walks should thenceforward be lighted, no bad women, known to be such, admitted, and that a sufficient number of watchmen should be provided to keep the peace.
The ridiculous custom of placing two centinels on the stage during the performance of plays was not discontinued in the above year, as a soldier employed for that purpose highly entertained an audience in October by laughing at the character of Sir Andrew Ague-cheek in Twelfth-night, till he actually fell convulsed upon the floor.
Violence and exertion are common occurrences at the doors of the English Theatres every evening when pieces or performers of superior attraction are to be seen; but it very rarely happens that those marks of ill-breeding are practised at the entrances of the Opera-house. When the Hereditary Prince of Brunswick went to the Opera in January 1764, the eagerness of a titled and fashionablemobwas such, that the male part fought their way with drawn swords, the females fainted, and lost shoes, caps, ruffles, &c. &c.quite as rapidly as those they condescended to imitate at the other Theatres.
A letter signed "Theatricus," inserted in the London Chronicle, vol. XV. contains a rapid but masterly sketch of the state of Theatrical amusements between 1700 and 1763. Under this impression I shall transfer it to this work:
"A DISSERTATION ON THE THEATRE."Since I was a boy, I have been an admirer of the Drama, and have, for near sixty years past, observed the revolutions of the stage (in England and Ireland) more than those of the State."The first play I remember to have seen wasThe Maid's Tragedyin the year 1710; the famous Mr. Betterton acted Melanthius; he died the week following, after having been above fifty years the ornament of the stage. With great satisfaction I recollect the memorable theatrical year 1712, whenCatowas first acted: never were the expectations of the Town more fully satisfied, nor more emulation shewn by the performers. I was at that time in the first form at Westminster-school; our master offered a premium of a gilt Horace for the best Latin translation ofCato'ssoliloquy in the fifth act. I had sufficient vanity to be one of the candidates; but, to my great mortification, was told, 'that it was a good first attempt,' and saw the premiumdelivered to my class-fellow, who, a few years ago, enjoyed one of the best deaneries in the church."My uncle used frequently to take me of a Sunday evening to Button's Coffee-house; it was there I first saw Addison and Congreve; he was intimate with Sir Richard Steele, and belonged to a club with the unfortunate Mr. Budgell."I remember the stage in its greatest glory, during the management of Wilks, Booth, and Cibber; its decline under the elegant but unfortunate Fleetwood; and its revival, with uncommon lustre, under Garrick. I must do justice to this last mentioned performer in saying, that it is to him alone we owe the bringing of Tragedy nearer to Nature than in the days of the Triumvirate. This one of them confessed to me not a year before his death; for formerly a turgid vociferation, or effeminate whine, were mistaken for the best display of the heroic and tender passions; but these caricatures are neglected for the real likenesses, which that great master of his art, Garrick, has truly delineated. I have often wished that the Stage could be brought under the regulations hinted at by Mr. Addison; then it would be, to use his own words, 'a source of the highest and most rational amusement.'"I look upon the principal structures of the Drama, to beTragedyandComedy; the most interesting circumstances ofTragedymay bereduced to two different heads,viz.the elevated (such as Julius Cæsar, Coriolanus, &c.) and the tender and affecting (as Romeo, and the Orphan); but that tragedy must ever have the preference which unites the pathetic with the sublime."Tragedyshould never go beyond the natural; that which is great in it never goes farther than heroism; it is a living picture, so that its beauty consists in its resemblance with the truth."Comedyis a feigned action, in which is represented the ridiculous, in order to correct it; it rebukes with a smile, and corrects with a facetious stroke: the matter of comedy is civil life, of which it is an imitation: it ought to be every where enlivened with all possible care, to have fine and easy strokes of wit and satire, which present the ridiculous in the most glaring point of view; it should be pure, easy, and natural, have no borrowed passions or constrained actions; morality and instruction ought to be infused into the several parts, so that we might feel instruction, but not see it."Tragedy imitates the beautiful, and the great; Comedy imitates the ridiculous: one elevates the soul, and forms the heart; the other polishes the behaviour, and corrects the manners. Tragedy humanizes us by compassion, and restrains us by fear; Comedy makes us laugh, because the faults of the little are trifling, we fear not their consequences."If examples have some force and life when trusted to paper, how much greater must their vigour be, when they live in the player, and are moved and speak in the most lofty sentiments, and all the eloquence of action. The spectator imagines that a series of ages having revolved back, and the distance of places being contracted, he is suddenly conveyed into those places and ages, in which the subject of the drama happened; or else, that past times being renewed, the subject is again acted in his presence. You do not on these occasions read silently in your closet the illustrious acts of antient heroes, who have immortalized themselves by the love they displayed for their country, their parents, their children, &c. These wonderful men are called from their tombs where they have so long slumbered, appear again in the world, and you behold their generous, their pious strife."In Athens the Stage was impowered by the Legislature to instruct the ignorant vulgar, and, as a censor, to reform the rude populace; it was its duty to make Tragedy a school of wisdom, and Comedy of reproof. The poets rendered the Theatre beneficial to the world, by appointing Tragedy to calm the passions by terror and pity, and Comedy to reform the mind by ridicule and censure. The duty of the Poet was, as Horace expresses it—aut prodesse aut delectare."I am sorry to say that some of our comic writers have been too fond of familiarizing their audiences to vice; and we need make no doubt that the immorality of the stage has contributed to the depravity of manners too visible amongst all ranks of people, and fulfils what Juvenal says,——nullâ virtute redemptumA vitiis.——"FarceI consider as the gleanings of the Drama. I remember when it was seldom used; those who have seen the Theatrical Calendar for the years 1708 and 1709, will confirm what I assert. Dogget, one of the first Comedians of his time, was three years before he could obtain leave to have his farce ofThe Country Wakeperformed; and, when granted, it was provided he acted the principal part (Hob). Farquhar, from the success of his comedies, and interest with the Duke of Ormond his patron, obtained leave for his farce ofThe Stage Coach; and Cibber, with great difficulty, brought on hisSchool Boy; before these times the plays of Shakspeare, Jonson, &c. did not need the aid of farce. It must be allowed, that the farces by Garrick, and some by Foote, have met with much success, and abound with theutile dulci; but the generality of those now in possession of the Stage are, as Dryden says, 'a compound of extravagances, fit only to entertain such people as are judges of neither men nor manners.' To confirm this greatPoet's opinion, I appeal to those who have seen a new farce last season at Crow-street Theatre, devoid both of wit and satire, and composed of vulgar phrases, beneath a Bartholomew-fair droll; however, I applaud the author for not printing it; if he had, it must certainly have suffered the fate it most justly deserved, to be condemned by all its readers[252:A]."Pantomimefirst dawned, in the year 1702, at Drury-lane, in an entertainment, called,The Tavern Bilkers; it died the fifth night. It was invented by Weaver, a dancing-master at Shrewsbury, who, from the encouragement of the Nobility, invented a second, calledThe Loves of Mars and Venus, performed at the same Theatre, in the year 1716, with vast success; which occasioned Sir Richard Steele to write the following lines on the back of one of the play-bills at Button's Coffee-house."Weaver, corrupter of this present age,"Who first taught silent sins upon the stage.It was about this time that the taste of the Town became vitiated: one remarkable instance I cannot forget. In January 1717 some dancers arrived from France, and with them one Swartz, a German. This man brought over two dogs, whom he had taught to dance the louvre and minuet; they were immediately engaged by Rich,at ten poundspernight, and brought above twenty good houses, when the Othello of Booth, the Wildair of Wilks, and the Foppington of Cibber, were neglected, and did not bring charges. The town, who were formerly unanimous in supporting the stage, now were formed into different parties; some preferred sense to sound, others were for the Opera and Pantomime, and the actors, as Colley Cibber remarks, 'were very near being wholly laid aside, or, at least, the use of their labour was to be swallowed up, in the pretended merit of singing and dancing.' I must, however, not forget to mention, that a few years ago, some ladies of the first distinction, eminent for their just taste, entered into a society, and distinguished by the name of the Shakspeare Club, in order to support his plays on the stage. Many verses were written on this occasion; one stanza I remember:"No more shall Merit's passion fail,Since Beauty wit and knowledge prize,Whose bright example shall prevail,And make it fashion to be wise."I must do justice to the managers of the Dublin Theatres, in commending their care and assiduity to please the Town; and could wish, instead of importing from Sadler's-wells wire-dancers, &c. they would revive some select plays of Shakspeare and Jonson."I have at my leisure hours drawn up the following scale of the merits of the performers on the Irish stage; I have no connections with either Theatre or Managers, but am a lover of Truth and the Drama. I am, &c.Theatricus."Dublin.
"A DISSERTATION ON THE THEATRE.
"Since I was a boy, I have been an admirer of the Drama, and have, for near sixty years past, observed the revolutions of the stage (in England and Ireland) more than those of the State.
"The first play I remember to have seen wasThe Maid's Tragedyin the year 1710; the famous Mr. Betterton acted Melanthius; he died the week following, after having been above fifty years the ornament of the stage. With great satisfaction I recollect the memorable theatrical year 1712, whenCatowas first acted: never were the expectations of the Town more fully satisfied, nor more emulation shewn by the performers. I was at that time in the first form at Westminster-school; our master offered a premium of a gilt Horace for the best Latin translation ofCato'ssoliloquy in the fifth act. I had sufficient vanity to be one of the candidates; but, to my great mortification, was told, 'that it was a good first attempt,' and saw the premiumdelivered to my class-fellow, who, a few years ago, enjoyed one of the best deaneries in the church.
"My uncle used frequently to take me of a Sunday evening to Button's Coffee-house; it was there I first saw Addison and Congreve; he was intimate with Sir Richard Steele, and belonged to a club with the unfortunate Mr. Budgell.
"I remember the stage in its greatest glory, during the management of Wilks, Booth, and Cibber; its decline under the elegant but unfortunate Fleetwood; and its revival, with uncommon lustre, under Garrick. I must do justice to this last mentioned performer in saying, that it is to him alone we owe the bringing of Tragedy nearer to Nature than in the days of the Triumvirate. This one of them confessed to me not a year before his death; for formerly a turgid vociferation, or effeminate whine, were mistaken for the best display of the heroic and tender passions; but these caricatures are neglected for the real likenesses, which that great master of his art, Garrick, has truly delineated. I have often wished that the Stage could be brought under the regulations hinted at by Mr. Addison; then it would be, to use his own words, 'a source of the highest and most rational amusement.'
"I look upon the principal structures of the Drama, to beTragedyandComedy; the most interesting circumstances ofTragedymay bereduced to two different heads,viz.the elevated (such as Julius Cæsar, Coriolanus, &c.) and the tender and affecting (as Romeo, and the Orphan); but that tragedy must ever have the preference which unites the pathetic with the sublime.
"Tragedyshould never go beyond the natural; that which is great in it never goes farther than heroism; it is a living picture, so that its beauty consists in its resemblance with the truth.
"Comedyis a feigned action, in which is represented the ridiculous, in order to correct it; it rebukes with a smile, and corrects with a facetious stroke: the matter of comedy is civil life, of which it is an imitation: it ought to be every where enlivened with all possible care, to have fine and easy strokes of wit and satire, which present the ridiculous in the most glaring point of view; it should be pure, easy, and natural, have no borrowed passions or constrained actions; morality and instruction ought to be infused into the several parts, so that we might feel instruction, but not see it.
"Tragedy imitates the beautiful, and the great; Comedy imitates the ridiculous: one elevates the soul, and forms the heart; the other polishes the behaviour, and corrects the manners. Tragedy humanizes us by compassion, and restrains us by fear; Comedy makes us laugh, because the faults of the little are trifling, we fear not their consequences.
"If examples have some force and life when trusted to paper, how much greater must their vigour be, when they live in the player, and are moved and speak in the most lofty sentiments, and all the eloquence of action. The spectator imagines that a series of ages having revolved back, and the distance of places being contracted, he is suddenly conveyed into those places and ages, in which the subject of the drama happened; or else, that past times being renewed, the subject is again acted in his presence. You do not on these occasions read silently in your closet the illustrious acts of antient heroes, who have immortalized themselves by the love they displayed for their country, their parents, their children, &c. These wonderful men are called from their tombs where they have so long slumbered, appear again in the world, and you behold their generous, their pious strife.
"In Athens the Stage was impowered by the Legislature to instruct the ignorant vulgar, and, as a censor, to reform the rude populace; it was its duty to make Tragedy a school of wisdom, and Comedy of reproof. The poets rendered the Theatre beneficial to the world, by appointing Tragedy to calm the passions by terror and pity, and Comedy to reform the mind by ridicule and censure. The duty of the Poet was, as Horace expresses it—aut prodesse aut delectare.
"I am sorry to say that some of our comic writers have been too fond of familiarizing their audiences to vice; and we need make no doubt that the immorality of the stage has contributed to the depravity of manners too visible amongst all ranks of people, and fulfils what Juvenal says,
——nullâ virtute redemptumA vitiis.——
——nullâ virtute redemptumA vitiis.——
——nullâ virtute redemptum
A vitiis.——
"FarceI consider as the gleanings of the Drama. I remember when it was seldom used; those who have seen the Theatrical Calendar for the years 1708 and 1709, will confirm what I assert. Dogget, one of the first Comedians of his time, was three years before he could obtain leave to have his farce ofThe Country Wakeperformed; and, when granted, it was provided he acted the principal part (Hob). Farquhar, from the success of his comedies, and interest with the Duke of Ormond his patron, obtained leave for his farce ofThe Stage Coach; and Cibber, with great difficulty, brought on hisSchool Boy; before these times the plays of Shakspeare, Jonson, &c. did not need the aid of farce. It must be allowed, that the farces by Garrick, and some by Foote, have met with much success, and abound with theutile dulci; but the generality of those now in possession of the Stage are, as Dryden says, 'a compound of extravagances, fit only to entertain such people as are judges of neither men nor manners.' To confirm this greatPoet's opinion, I appeal to those who have seen a new farce last season at Crow-street Theatre, devoid both of wit and satire, and composed of vulgar phrases, beneath a Bartholomew-fair droll; however, I applaud the author for not printing it; if he had, it must certainly have suffered the fate it most justly deserved, to be condemned by all its readers[252:A].
"Pantomimefirst dawned, in the year 1702, at Drury-lane, in an entertainment, called,The Tavern Bilkers; it died the fifth night. It was invented by Weaver, a dancing-master at Shrewsbury, who, from the encouragement of the Nobility, invented a second, calledThe Loves of Mars and Venus, performed at the same Theatre, in the year 1716, with vast success; which occasioned Sir Richard Steele to write the following lines on the back of one of the play-bills at Button's Coffee-house.
"Weaver, corrupter of this present age,"Who first taught silent sins upon the stage.
"Weaver, corrupter of this present age,"Who first taught silent sins upon the stage.
"Weaver, corrupter of this present age,
"Who first taught silent sins upon the stage.
It was about this time that the taste of the Town became vitiated: one remarkable instance I cannot forget. In January 1717 some dancers arrived from France, and with them one Swartz, a German. This man brought over two dogs, whom he had taught to dance the louvre and minuet; they were immediately engaged by Rich,at ten poundspernight, and brought above twenty good houses, when the Othello of Booth, the Wildair of Wilks, and the Foppington of Cibber, were neglected, and did not bring charges. The town, who were formerly unanimous in supporting the stage, now were formed into different parties; some preferred sense to sound, others were for the Opera and Pantomime, and the actors, as Colley Cibber remarks, 'were very near being wholly laid aside, or, at least, the use of their labour was to be swallowed up, in the pretended merit of singing and dancing.' I must, however, not forget to mention, that a few years ago, some ladies of the first distinction, eminent for their just taste, entered into a society, and distinguished by the name of the Shakspeare Club, in order to support his plays on the stage. Many verses were written on this occasion; one stanza I remember:
"No more shall Merit's passion fail,Since Beauty wit and knowledge prize,Whose bright example shall prevail,And make it fashion to be wise.
"No more shall Merit's passion fail,Since Beauty wit and knowledge prize,Whose bright example shall prevail,And make it fashion to be wise.
"No more shall Merit's passion fail,
Since Beauty wit and knowledge prize,
Whose bright example shall prevail,
And make it fashion to be wise.
"I must do justice to the managers of the Dublin Theatres, in commending their care and assiduity to please the Town; and could wish, instead of importing from Sadler's-wells wire-dancers, &c. they would revive some select plays of Shakspeare and Jonson.
"I have at my leisure hours drawn up the following scale of the merits of the performers on the Irish stage; I have no connections with either Theatre or Managers, but am a lover of Truth and the Drama. I am, &c.
Theatricus.
"Dublin.
"AScaleof the Merits of the Performers on the Irish Stage, 1763.
The doors of the Theatres were openedcirca1765 before five o'clock, and the house thus filled gradually. The present method of opening one hour before the commencement of the performance occasions great confusion, and frequent injury to individuals.
Mrs.Cornely
Died in the Fleet-prison at a very advanced age in 1797. She was born in Germany, and, having talents for singing, performed publicly in her native country and Italy. Mrs. Cornely arrived in England about 1756 or 7; and being a woman of much taste and address, and possessed of many accomplishments, she soon received the patronage those advantages excited. To continue the celebrity thus obtained, she explored the regions of fancy, and exhausted every art, to contrive fascinating amusements for the eager publick, who crowded to Carlisle-house, Soho-square, as the very focus of pleasure and entertainment. While this lady confined her exertions to mere frivolous and fashionable enticements, she succeeded admirably; but, wishing to soar beyond her sphere in endeavouring to establish a musical meeting, the Proprietors of the Opera-house became alarmed, and applied to the Civil power to suppress what they deemed an unwarrantable rivalship. This was easily accomplished; and Mrs. Cornely had the mortification to find herself considerably involved without a hope of remuneration; but her concerts, balls, and masquerades were continued with advantage, though her influence insensibly declined; and other attractions, particularly the Pantheon, withdrawing many of her patrons, she was at length compelled to relinquish her pretensions to public favour, and flyfrom the menaces of her creditors, whose number and demands were very considerable. It is said that she remained in concealment for many years under the name of Smith; but, her active spirit being still unsubdued, she ventured once more as a candidate for public favour in the strange profession of a keeper of Asses at Knightsbridge, where she fitted up a suite of rooms for the reception of visitors to breakfast in public, and regale themselves with the milk of that patient and enduring animal. The success of this enterprise may be anticipated: a second flight from her creditors, and the catastrophe of the Fleet-prison, closed the scene.
The above slight outline of the life of this singular female will explain some subsequent parts of this Chapter. Mrs. Cornely is said to have expended near 2000l.in 1765 in altering and embellishing Carlisle-house.
In the year 1766 the Patentees and persons employed about Drury-lane Theatre commenced a subscription, in order to establish a fund for the support and relief of such performers and others belonging to the Theatre as through age, infirmity, or accident, should be obliged to retire from the stage. To this sum the Patentees gave benefit-plays, and some benevolent persons not connected with the Theatre augmented it by donations. In 1776, the amount of their principal was 3400l., which the managers vested in thepublic funds, and a house in Drury-lane that let for 50l.per annum; since which period it is still farther increased.
Partnerships too frequently produce dissentions and a struggle for individual power: the publick was called upon in 1768 to witness the truth of this observation in a letter from T. Harris to G. Colman on the affairs of Covent-garden Theatre, which, with the answer, follows:
"The schemes and arts (says Mr. Harris) that you have practised to creep into an exclusive management, and in consequence of that into an exclusive possession, were various, and incessant in their operations. But, among them all, your favourite scheme to that end, was that of being thought an able and successful manager; and to support that character, it is incredible to those who know not your arts, what an enormous burthen it hath been to the partnership: not less than thirty, forty, fifty, and sixty pounds in orders, were generally sent into the Theatre each night; and on one night in particular, in support of one of your pieces, upwards of one hundred pounds. Thus, Sir, you supported your fame, at the expence of our common property.
"The next day (June the 12th) by accident I and Mr. Rutherford severally met Mr. Sarjant's son, one of our box-keepers, who informed us, that Mr. Colman had taken away the keys of all the doors in the Theatre, and that the doors wereall barred and bolted, but that, if we applied, we alone might be admitted through Mr. Powell's house in the Piazza, in which there was a door which communicated with the Theatre.
"Being well advised that we could not justify entering our own premises through another man's house, and being well aware of your —— disposition, we determined not to go into the Theatre through the house of Mr. Powell, who was then at Bristol.—We therefore, on Monday the 13th of June, sent a servant with a written order for admittance: he was refused by Mr. Sarjant, who urged your express order for that purpose. We then desired two gentlemen to accompany us to the Theatre, and in their hearing demanded entrance of Mr. Sarjant, who answered us, thrusting his head out of a barred window, that Mr. Colman had got all the keys of the doors, and he could not let us in. We immediately dispatched Mr. Sarjant junior, whom we met under the Piazza, to you, Sir, with our compliments, desiring you to send the keys of the Theatre, informing you, that we were then waiting with two friends, and wished to take a walk in the Theatre. He very soon returned with this answer (delivered in the hearing of the above-mentioned two gentlemen): 'That you would not send the keys; that you had ordered all ingress to the Theatre to be denied us, except through Mr. Powell's house; and even that way, we, and weonly,must enter.' With this very extraordinary rebuff we returned to our respective homes. The time between this event and Friday morning, we passed in reflection upon your unaccountable treatment of us; and in consulting and advising with several gentlemen of great eminence in all departments of the law; who all concurred in assuring us that no damage could arise to us from entering our own premises, and turning our own servants out, who refused us admittance. Accordingly, on the 17th June, after six o'clock, Mr. Harris, attended by two witnesses, again demanded admittance for himself and Mr. Rutherford, at Mr. Sarjant's door; he answered from within, in the hearing of the witnesses, that, by Mr. Colman's order, they would not admit us. Harris then came to the door in Hart-street, where Mr. Rutherford was waiting for him, attended by some servants, and told him the result of his demand at Mr. Sarjant's door; whereupon Harris and Rutherford ordered their servants to open a window on the North side of the said door, where they entered with their servants. One of your servants, who kept possession of the Theatre for you, having struck one of ours, it was with the greatest difficulty we could prevent ours from doing mischief to their opponents; we were therefore obliged to turn them all out of the Theatre. Being thus in possession, we began immediately to take a survey of the place; andnever were men so much astonished as we were, to find ourselves in so complete a fortification. Emery, the master-carpenter to the Theatre, coming at that instant, we ordered him to be let in; and taking him about the Theatre with us, we observed to him howadvantageouslyhe and his men had been employed for the last week or two in cutting our boards and timber to pieces in order to bar and fortify every avenue and window in the house, even those which were thirty or forty feet from the ground. The fellow, with a good deal of awkward embarrassment, scratching his head, replied, 'Why, Gentlemen, I told Mr. Colman, all I could do would signify nothing against a sledge-hammer. I thought,' says he, 'it was a strange undertaking.' We then asked him, if he too was engaged by Mr. Colman; he said he was. On our telling him it was unaccountable to us how house-keeper, wardrobe-keeper, and carpenters, should think of entering into articles; he confessed he never heard of any such thing before in his life, but that Mr. Colman had taken him one day entirely unguarded, and in a manner compelled him immediately to sign an article. The more we examined the Theatre, the more we were astonished at your excessive precaution to prevent our getting into it. On the same day we sent you a letter from the Theatre, importing, 'That we did not mean to retaliate your behaviour; on the contrary, wehad given orders to our servants, at all times to admit you and Mr. Powell.'
"Reflecting now very considerately on our situation, and on your past conduct; 'That you had from the beginning laid a plan of driving us out of the Theatre; that, in the execution of that plan, you had persevered through the whole season, paying no more regard to us than if we were entirely unconcerned in the property; that you had very essentially hurt the whole property, and the profits of the past season in particular; that, in fine, you had engaged to act under your direction solely every person belonging to the Theatre, upon pain of large penalties; and had at last absolutely forbid our entrance into our own house:' For these reasons we determined to remove from the Theatre, to one of our dwelling-houses, such part of the property as might the most effectually prevent your proceedings, until a plan should be formed, which would as effectually confirm to us those legal and equitable rights in the Theatre, of which you had so unwarrantably divested us.
"With this view only, we sent down to my house in Surrey-street, so much of the wardrobe as we imagined would make the remaining part useless, together with the musick, prompt-books, &c. &c. belonging to the Theatre; of all which we have an exact inventory, and they will beimmediately and safely returned to the Theatre, whenever a fair and equitable plan for the future government of it shall be fixed upon. It has been urged by some, that it would have been much better for us at once to have applied to the Court of Chancery for redress, and that there we must have found a certain relief, and reparation for all past damages: this too, Sir, has been always your language—'If I injure you, why don't you apply to the Court of Chancery for redress?'
"There is no doubt, Sir, the Court of Chancery would redress us. But delays are dangerous. Of this the history of the acting Manager, recorded by Cibber, is amemento. A long Chancery suit would be but a very poor remedy for the injuries you are daily doing us.
"About a month since we were again amused by you with the hopes of a fair reference.—By our respective counsel a meeting was appointed for all parties in Westminster-hall. We there met, in order, if possible, to fix on a mode of arbitrating all differences; both parties brought preliminary articles to be agreed to, before the general concerns should be referred. On our part were produced these two:
"1st. That the contracts which you might have made without our knowledge and consent, for the ensuing season, should be rescinded, unless agreed to by us."2d. That no servants who were employed in shutting us out of our own house, should be employed in future.
"1st. That the contracts which you might have made without our knowledge and consent, for the ensuing season, should be rescinded, unless agreed to by us.
"2d. That no servants who were employed in shutting us out of our own house, should be employed in future.
"Surely these can never be deemed unreasonable by any person, when at the same time he is assured that we never wish, nor ever did wish, to engage any performer, servant, &c. &c. who should be objected to by Mr. Colman and Mr. Powell.
"You, Sir, on your part, insisted on the following eight preliminaries.
"1st. Colman and Powell should not be obliged to sell.
"1st. Colman and Powell should not be obliged to sell.
"Meaning, we conceive, that if the referees should think it necessary to oblige either of the parties to sell, it must be Harris and Rutherford.
"2d. All contracts to be made by Mr. Colman to be confirmed.
"2d. All contracts to be made by Mr. Colman to be confirmed.
"Can this be a reasonable preliminary, to be obliged to confirm all contracts made by you, without having the least knowledge how many, with whom, or upon what condition, they were entered into? For we are at this time entire and absolute strangers to all your late proceedings, except what we gather from uncertain report, and some few of the parties who have engaged with you.