Their Majesties' Servants. Annals of the English Stage (Volume 2 of 3)

CHAPTER XI

ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND

In 1753-4 Mrs. Cibber returned to Drury; she played Juliet to Garrick's Romeo, and with him in every piece that admitted of their playing together. But Barry gained in Miss Nossiter a Juliet, not, indeed, equal to Mrs. Cibber, but one who increased his own ardour and earnestness in Romeo, his tenderness and anxiety in Jaffier, and his truth and playfulness as Florizel, inasmuch as that they were mutually in love, and all the house was in the secret.

Miss Nossiter, however, did not realise her early promise. Contemporary critics speak of the novice as being of a delicate figure, graceful in the expression of distress, but requiring carefulness in the management of her voice, and a more simple elocution. One of her judges curiously remarks: – "She frequently alarmed the audience with the most striking attitudes." The critic recovers from his alarm when speaking of another debutante (Mrs. Elmey), who acted Desdemona to Barry's Othello. "No part," he says, "has been better represented in our memory," and "we scarce knew what it was before she acted it."

Of poor Miss Nossiter there is little more recorded than that, at the end of a brief career, she died, after bequeathing to Barry, the Romeo, for whom more than Miss Nossiter professed to be dying, – £3000.

Mossop succeeded Quin, at Drury Lane, with credit.62 Foote left "entertaining" at the Haymarket to play the Cibber parts in comedy, and he was ably seconded by Woodward, Mrs. Pritchard, and Kitty Clive. Miss Bellamy and Shuter passed to the Garden, the latter increasing in favour each night, as opportunity afforded. With the exception of minor pieces, and a revival of "King John," in which Garrick was an unlikely Faulconbridge, and Mossop a superb tyrant, the audiences were taken back to heavy classical tragedies. Drury played Glover's "Boadicea," a criticism of which is amusingly given by Walpole. "There is a new play of Glover's, in which Boadicea (Pritchard) rants as much as Visconti screams; but, happily, you hear no more of her after the third act, till, in the last scene, somebody brings a card with her compliments, and she is very sorry she cannot wait upon you, but she is dead. Then there is a scene between Lord Sussex and Cathcart, two captains" (Ænobarbus and Flaminius – Mossop and Havard), "which is most incredibly absurd; but yet the parts are so well acted, the dresses so fine, and two or three scenes pleasing enough, that it is worth seeing." Archbishop Herring thought the last two acts admirable. "In the fifth particularly, I hardly ever felt myself so strongly touched."

Of a second tragedy, Crisp's "Virginia," Walpole says it flourished through Garrick's acting. Murphy states that "the manner in which Garrick uttered two words, crowned the play with success; when in a low tone of voice that spoke the fulness of a broken heart, he pronounced, 'Thou traitor!' the whole audience was electrified, and testified their delight by a thunder of applause." It was, however, a poor play, even for a custom-house officer, who, by the way, made Appius (Mossop) propose to marry Virginia. Marcia was played by Mrs. Graham; Garrick did not think much of her; but we shall hear of her again as the great Mrs. Yates.

The third classical tragedy was Whitehead's "Creusa," founded on the Ion of Euripides. Walpole praises the interest, complexity, yet clearness and natural feeling of the plot. "It is the only new tragedy that I ever saw and really liked. The circumstance of so much distress being brought on by characters, every one good, yet acting consistently with their principles towards the misfortunes of the drama, is quite new and pleasing." As a reading play, I think "Creusa" is the greatest success Whitehead has achieved.

On the other hand, M'Namara Morgan's romantic tragedy "Philoclea" owed much of its ephemeral success to the fire, grace, beauty, and expression of Barry and Miss Nossiter (Pyrocles and Philoclea), the two lovers. The house literally "sighed like furnace" for very sympathy. The Rev. Mr. Genest says truly, "that the play is a poor play, but that the epilogue is not bad;" – it is a mass of uncleanness, worthy of the Ravenscroft whom Genest admired. As for Dr. Francis's "Constantine," in which Barry and Mrs. Bellamy played Constantine and Fulvia, it was a failure; but, therefore, Mrs. Bellamy recommended the author to the patronage of Fox; and it is certain that the father of Sir Philip Francis owed his promotion to the Suffolk rectory of Barrow to Lord Holland. There is something amusing in the idea of George Anne Bellamy indirectly nominating to Church benefices!

In the season of 1754-5, Garrick was relieved by the absence of Barry, who left Rich for Dublin, taking Miss Nossiter with him, at a salary of £1300 for both, for the season, and predicting ruin to Rich. The latter falsified the prediction, by bringing out Sheridan in all his best parts against Garrick, and in "Coriolanus," against Mossop. Sheridan and Dyer also played Romeo, greatly to the benefit of Barry; but Rich got well through his season with the above, and in spite of a tragedy, called "Appius," the ill success of which was reasonably attributed by the author, Moncrieff, to the fact that Sheridan had lopped off the fifth act; pantomime supplied its place.

Garrick, in addition to his old parts, created Achmet in "Barbarossa;" Mossop playing the tyrant, and Mrs. Cibber, Zaphira. His other novelties were the "Fairies," and the masque of Britannia;" the latter Apropos to the war. I do not know if Dr. Browne, the vicar of Great Horkesley, could have civilised the yet uncivilised dominion of Russia, as Catharine invited him to do; but he assuredly wrote a poor yet lucky tragedy, for it has lived while better have sunk into oblivion. It is "Merope" re-cast and dressed. "There is not one new thought in it," wrote Walpole; "and, which is the next material want, but one line of perfect nonsense. 'And rain down transports in the shape of sorrow!' To complete it, the manners are so ill-observed, that a Mahometan princess-royal is at full liberty to visit her lover in Newgate, like the banker's daughter in 'George Barnwell.'"

Walpole's criticism on the "Fairies" is not less smart. "Garrick has produced a detestable English opera, which is crowded by all true lovers of their country. To mark the opposite to Italian opera, it is sung by some cast singers, two Italians, a French girl, and the chapel-boys; and to regale us with sauce, it is Shakspeare's 'Midsummer Night's Dream;' which," he adds, as if he inherited the feelings of Pepys with regard to this poetical play, "is forty times more nonsensical than the worst translation of any Italian opera books."

At the short summer season in the Haymarket, where Theophilus Cibber and his eccentric sister, Mrs. Charke, were at the head of "Bayes's" new-raised company of comedians, there appeared on the 21st of August, 1755, Miss Barton, in Miranda, to Cibber's Marplot. Besides this, and other comic characters, Miss Barton acted Desdemona. Not many years before this she was a shoeless flower-girl, purer looking than any of her own roses, in St. James's Park. We shall hear of her anon, under a name than which there is not a brighter in theatrical annals – the name of Abington.

The season of 1755-6 was remarkable for the fact that Garrick made three very absurd assaults on Shakspeare, by producing emendations of the "Winter's Tale," "Taming of the Shrew," and the "Tempest," cutting, clipping, adding, taking away, and saying the while: —

"'Tis my chief wish, my joy, my only plan,To lose no drop of that immortal man!"

This season was also remarkable for the riot consequent on his producing the "Chinese Festival," when the public, hating the French, with whom we were at war, insisted on his asking pardon for the introduction of Swiss, Germans, and Italians! Garrick proudly answered, that if they would not allow him to go on with his part (Archer), he would never, never, again set foot on the stage! It was, further, famous for the failure of "Athelstan," by Dr. Browne, which fell, though it was a better tragedy than "Barbarossa." The disappointed author, it will be remembered, destroyed himself.63 Still more famous was this season, for the fray between the Rival Queens, Woffington – Roxana, and Bellamy – Statira; when the superb dresses of the latter drove poor Peg into such fury, that she nearly stabbed her rival in downright earnest. Failing in her attempt, she stabbed her with words, and taunted Bellamy with having a minister (Henry Fox) who indulged her in such extravagances. "And you," retorted the other "gentle creature," "have half the town who do not!" But not for these things, nor for Foote's satirical farces against Murphy, nor for Murphy's against Foote, was the season so famous, as it was for being that in which Barry, now returned to Covent Garden, entered the lists once more against Garrick, after playing a round of his most successful characters, by acting King Lear with Miss Nossiter as Cordelia, which part Mrs. Cibber played to Garrick's King.

In this contest Garrick carried away the palm. Barry was dignified, impressive, pathetic, but unequal, failing principally in the mad scenes, which appear to have been over-acted. It was precisely there where Garrick was most sublime, natural, and affecting. There was no rant, no violence, no grimacing. The feeble, miserable, but still royal old man was there; slow of motion, vague of look, uncertain, forgetful of all things save of the cruelty of his daughters. It was said for Barry that he was "every inch a king;" for Garrick, that he was "every inch King Lear." The wits who admired the latter repeated the epigram —

"The town has found out diff'rent ways,To praise the different Lears;To Barry they give loud huzzas!To Garrick – only tears."64

others quoted the lines alluding to Garrick's jealousy —

"Critics attend! and judge the rival Lears;While each commands applause, and each your tears.Then own this truth – well he performs his partWho touches – even Garrick to the heart."

Drury Lane, in 1756-57, offers little for remark. Miss Pritchard appeared in Juliet – only to show that talent is not hereditary; and Garrick ventured King Lear, with a little less of Tate, and a little more of Shakspeare; he was as resolute, however, against introducing the Fool as he was with respect to the Gravediggers in Hamlet. On the other hand, he acted Don Felix. Gracefully as Garrick played the part, Walpole said "he was a monkey to Lord Henry Fitzgerald" (who played this character admirably in private). The Violante of Miss Macklin was acted with astonishing effect. When Garrick was weary, his parts were "doubled" by handsome Holland, the son of the Chiswick baker, and destined to carry grief to the honest heart of Miss Pope. The dramatic poets raised no new echoes in Drury this season – some farces excepted. One of these was the "Reprisal," by Smollet, who showed that if he could not write a good tragedy at nine-and-twenty, he could dash off a lively farce at seven-and-thirty. With this farce the ablest of novelists and harshest of critics closed his theatrical career. The second farce was Foote's "Author," in which he and Mrs. Clive acted Mr. and Mrs. Cadwallader, and the former exultingly held up to ridicule one of his most intimate friends, Mr. Apreece, taking care to have him among the audience on the first night!

At the other house, Barry failed in Richard III.; but the treasury recovered itself by the production, in March, of "Douglas," in which Barry, six feet high, and in a suit of white puckered satin, played Norval to the Lady Randolph of Mrs. Woffington. The originals of those parts, when the piece was first played in Edinburgh, in the previous December, were Digges and Mrs. Ward. This piece was the glory of the Scottish stage, and a scandal to great part of the community. Before the curtain rises let me say a few words on the growth of that stage.

There have been stringent rules in Scotland with regard to the theatre, but they have been accompanied by much general toleration. The Regent Murray cheerfully witnessed the performance of a drama; and the General Assembly, in 1574,65 though they prohibited all dramas founded on Scripture, permitted the representation of "profane plays." The licensers were the Kirk Session, before which body the piece was first read; and if license was accorded for its being acted, stipulation was made that nothing should be added to the text which had been read, and that "nae swearing, banning, nor nae scurrility shall be spoken, whilk would be a scandal to our religion and for an evil example to others."

When, however, James VI. manifested a wish to see the English company which arrived in Edinburgh in 1599, by granting it a license to act, the General Kirk Session of the city denounced all players and their patrons – the former as unruly and immodest, the latter as irreligious and indiscreet. This opposition led to a conference between the Session and the angry King, at which the former were obliged to withdraw their denunciations, which had been made from all the pulpits; and they authorised all men "to repair to the said comedies and plays without any pain, reproach, censure, or slander, to be incurred by them." Individual ministers were sorely discontent with such proceedings of the Session; and this feeling increased, when a play, "Marciano, or the Discovery," was acted in 1662, "with great applause, before His Majesty's High Commissioner, and others of the nobility, at the Abbey of Holyrood House, on St. John's night." In the preface of this very play, the drama in Scotland was likened to a "drunken swaggerer in a country church!"

It does not appear that any regular theatre existed in Edinburgh previous to 1679, when the brothers Fountain held from Charles II. the patent of "Masters of the Revels, within the Kingdom of Scotland."66 The Fountains not only erected a playhouse, but they subsequently sought to suppress all balls and entertainments held in the dancing-masters' schools, as discouraging to the playhouse, which "the petitioners had been at great charge in erecting." Accordingly, such balls, unless duly licensed, were suppressed. As Mr. Robert Chambers remarks in his Domestic Annals of Scotland, "It sounds strange to hear of a dancing-master's ball in our city, little more than a month after the battle of Bothwell Bridge, and while a thousand poor men were lodging on the cold ground in the Greyfriars' Churchyard!"

There was no regular theatrical season, – players came and went according to the chances of profit afforded by the presence of great personages in the capital. In 1681, the Duke and Duchess of York were sojourning there; and just at that time, thirty joyous-looking folk were being detained by the Customs' authorities at Irvine, in Ayrshire, where they had landed, and where they were in difficulty, on questions of duties on the gold and silver lace of their wardrobe. Laced clothes were then highly taxed; but, said the gay fellows, who, in truth, were actors, with actresses from the theatre in Orange Street, Dublin, "these clothes, mounted with gold and silver lace, are not for our wear, but are necessary in our vocation, and are, therefore, exempt." They had to petition the Privy Council, which body, submitting to the plea of the actors, that "trumpeters and stage-players" were exempted from the Act, sent a certificate to the tax-collector at Irvine, to let them pass free, and come up and act "Agrippa, King of Alba, or the False Tiberinus," and other dramas, before all lieges in Edinburgh, who were inclined to listen to them.

This incident reminds me of an anecdote of Talma, which was communicated to me by a French actor. Talma was stopped, like the Irish players at Irvine, at the Custom-house on the Belgian frontier, as he was on his way to fulfil an engagement at Brussels. His theatrical costumes were undergoing examination, when an official irreverently spoke of them as "Habits de Polichinelle." The tragic actor was offended. "Habits de Polichinelle!" said he, "they are of the utmost value. That lace is worth fifty francs a yard, and I wear it constantly in private." "And must therefore pay for it," said the sharp Belgian official; "Punch's clothes might pass untaxed, but Mr. Talma's laced coats owe a duty to the King," which he was forced to acquit.

With the fall of the Stuarts and the establishment of Presbytery, a sour feeling against the stage prevailed in Scotland. Mr. R. Chambers attributes a later improved feeling to the Southern gentlemen who were sent northward to hold office, and who took with them tastes which were gradually adopted; at first by Episcopalians, and later by Presbyterians themselves.

There is a smith's shop near Holyrood, which, in 1715, was part of a Tennis Court, which, in that year, and just before the outbreak, was converted into a theatre. It was well attended, and furiously denounced; even solemn kirk folk flocked to listen to the old and modern playwrights, despite the threats of their ministers that, from all such, they would withhold the "tokens to the Sacrament of the Supper." The presbytery of Edinburgh fulminated every species of menace against the new stage and its upholders, but the latter had a fatally amusing comment to make on such fulminations. Only the year previously, three of these very ministers, Mitchell, Ramsay, and Hart, sent as a deputation to congratulate George I. on his accession, rested on their way at Kendal, where there was a little theatre, whither these good men repaired to see Congreve's "Love for Love" acted, and thought nobody would tell of their backsliding!

The Scottish Tennis Court theatre did not prosper even so well as that in Lincoln's Inn Fields. Eleven years after the above date, although we hear of a performance of Otway's "Orphan," with a prologue by Allan Ramsay, it is in "private;"67 but adverse critics are informed, that they will have to support their opinions, by the duello, in the King's Park.

In the same year, 1726, Anthony Aston, that erratic actor, "after a circuit round the Queen of Isles," as another prologue by Mr. Allan Ramsay said of him, re-appeared in Edinburgh with a theatrical company.

"The dastards said, 'He never will succeed:'What! such a country look for any good in,That does not relish plays, nor pork, nor pudding!"

Aston had to contend against the utmost efforts of the clergy and magistracy. Nevertheless, ruling elders, who were peers of the realm, Lords of Session and other amateurs, went and wept at graceful Westcombe and handsome Mrs. Millar, in the "Mourning Bride," and a son of Bishop Ross, and master of the Beaux' Coffee House, charged a commission of a penny on every playhouse ticket sold in his establishment. Then, even Lord Grange, the most profligate ruffian in all Scotland, was alarmed for Scottish morals, when he heard that Allan Ramsay had founded a circulating library, and was lending out English playbooks. The magistrates, moved by that arch-villain, Grange, – than whom there was not a man so given to drink, devilry, and devotion, – sent inspectors to learn from Ramsay's books the names of his subscribers. Allan had timely warning; and he destroyed his list before the obnoxious jurors presented themselves. The pulpits re-echoed with denunciations against acting and episcopacy, and men who were carried to the theatres in sedans, – oh! what had come to Scottish thews and sinews, when such a spectacle as this was to be seen in old Edinburgh!

In 1733 and 1734, Shakspeare was in the ascendant at the theatre at the Tailors' Hall, in the Cowgate, varied by the works of Gay, Congreve, and Mrs. Centlivre; pantomime, ballet and farce; with excellent scenery, and machinery, – the troop occasionally visiting Dundee, Montrose, and Aberdeen. Dramatic taste spread to schools, where the pupils began to act plays. While this was confined to "Cato," "Julius Cæsar," and the like, there was no harm done; but when the Perth schoolboys, at Candlemas 1735, took to acting "George Barnwell," the Kirk Session once more bestirred itself, and shut up the house built by Allan Ramsay, in Carrubber's Close.68 Subsequently, Ryan, the actor, laid the first stone of a new theatre in the Canongate, which was opened in 1746, but without sanction of law, which, however, was not so rigorous as in earlier days, when Lord Somerville, to screen a principal performer from stern pains and penalties, engaged him in his household, as butler! To this theatre, in 1756, the Rev. John Home, then thirty-two years of age, brought his tragedy of "Douglas." He had been the successor of Blair (of the Grave), in the living of Athelstanford; and had left it, to fight against the Pretender, at Falkirk, where he was captured. The reverend warrior ultimately escaped to England. Collins dedicated to him his Ode on the Superstitions of the Highlands. Home returned northward, full of the love of poetry, and powerful in the expression of it. His great dramatic essay was a grievous offence against the laws of his church, to the practical duties of which he had again surrendered himself. Had it not been that Sarah Ward was willing to help author and friends, even the reading of "Douglas" would never have come off. Sarah lent her sitting-room in the Canongate, to Home; and Digges was present and silent, for once, with Mrs. Ward, to enact audience. The characters were thus cast; and a finer group of intellectual persons sitting as they could best catch the light, in an obscure room of the Canongate, cannot well be imagined. Lord Randolph (or Barnard, according to the original cast) was read by Robertson; Glenalvon, by the greater historian, David Hume; Old Norval, by the famous Dr. Carlyle, the minister of Musselburgh; and Douglas, by Home, in right of authorship. Lady Randolph was allotted to Professor Ferguson; and the part of Anna was read by Dr. Blair, the minister of the High Church, and author of the once popular sermons!

But the Presbyteries of Edinburgh and Glasgow speedily denounced author, play, dramatists, and dramas generally, as instruments and children of Satan; and excommunicated, not only Home, but actors and audiences, and all abettors and approvers! The triumph of the play compensated for everything. The nation confirmed the sentiment of the critic in the pit, whose voice was heard in the ovation of the first night, exultantly exclaiming, "Weel, lads, what do ye think o' Wully Shakspeare noo?" The tragedy was offered to Garrick, who refused it. Mrs. Cibber, in Lady Randolph, would extinguish Norval! Rich accepted it, as readily as Garrick had declined it; and in March 1757 London confirmed the judgment of the city in the north. Gray declared that Home had retrieved the true language of the stage, which had been lost for a century. The Prince of Wales conferred a pension on the expelled minister, and Sheridan sent to Home a gold medal, worth ten guineas.

Just a century before Home was denounced by the Presbytery, Adam Seaton, dwelling near John O'Groats, where Cromwell's troops were encamped, on their way to the Orkneys, was condemned to make public confession in the Kirk, for "having masking playes in his house for the Inglishe men." This extract from the old Session record of the parish of Canisby (quoted in Calder's History of Caithness), shows how the drama "looked up," in remote Scottish localities, in spite of the decree of 1647. A Presbyterian, lending his house to amateur, or professional, actors in Cromwell's army, is a novel illustration in the history of the stage. Much might be said thereon; but Margaret Woffington, the original Lady Randolph in England, now retires from the scene, and waits the telling of her story.

CHAPTER XII

MARGARET WOFFINGTON

That good-tempered woman, who is looking with admiration at the pretty and delicate child who is drawing water from the Liffey, is Madame Violante. She is mistress of a booth for rope-dancing and other exhibitions in Dame Street. As the young girl turns homeward, with the bowl of water on her head, the lady follows, still admiring.

The object of her admiration is as bright and as steady as a sunbeam. If she be ill-clad, she is exquisitely shaped, and she will live to lend her dresses to the two Miss Gunnings, to enable them to attend a drawing-room at the Castle; their first steps towards reaching the coronets of countess and duchess that were in store for them.

This child, meanwhile, enters a shabby huckster's shop, kept by her widowed mother, on Ormond Quay. The father was a working bricklayer, and married the mother when she was as hard-working a laundress. There is another child in this poor household, a sister of the water-bearer, fair, but less fair than she. When Madame Violante first saw Mary and Margaret Woffington, she little dreamed that the latter would be the darling of London society, and the former the bride of a son of one of the proudest of English earls.