"THEIR FIRST APPEARANCE ON THIS STAGE."
On the 16th November 1682, the United Company, the flower of both
houses, opened their season at the Theatre Royal, in Drury Lane. The
theatre in Dorset Gardens was only occasionally used; and from 1682
to 1695 there was but one theatre in London.
Betterton and Mrs. Barry were, of course, at the head of this
company, to which there came some accessions of note; among others
Mrs. Percival, better known as Mrs. Mountfort, and finally as Mrs.
Verbruggen. A greater accession was that of the charming Mrs.
Bracegirdle. The third lady was Mrs. Jordan, a name to be made
celebrated by a later and a greater actress, who had no legal claim
to it.
Of the new actors, some only modestly laid the foundations of their
glory in this company. Chief of these was Colley Cibber, who, in
1691, played Sir Gentle's Servant in Southerne's "Sir Anthony Love,"
had a part of nine lines in Chapman's "Bussy d'Amboise," and of
seventeen, as Sigismond in Powell's "Alphonso." Bowen, too, began
with coachmen, and similar small parts, while that prince of the
droll fellows of his time, Pinkethman, commenced his career with a
tailor's part, of six lines in length, in Shadwell's "Volunteers."
Among the other new actors were Mountfort,[40] Norris,[41] and
Doggett, with Verbruggen (or Alexander, as he sometimes called
himself, from the character which he loved to play); Gillow,
Carlisle, Hodgson, and Peer.
Amid these names, that of Mrs. Mountfort stands out the most
brilliantly. Her portrait has been so exquisitely limned by Colley
Cibber, that we see her as she lived, and moved, and spoke.
"Mrs. Mountfort was mistress of more variety of humour than I ever
knew in any one actress. This variety, too, was attended with an
equal vivacity, which made her excellent in characters extremely
different. As she was naturally a pleasant mimic, she had the skill
to make that talent useful on the stage. Where the elocution is
round, distinct, voluble, and various, as Mrs. Mountfort's was, the
mimic there is a great assistance to the actor. Nothing, though
ever so barren, if within the bounds of nature, could be flat in her
hands. She gave many heightening touches to characters but coldly
written, and often made an author vain of his work, that, in itself,
had but little merit. She was so fond of humour, in what low part
soever to be found, that she would make no scruple of defacing her
fair form to come heartily into it, for when she was eminent in
several desirable characters of wit and humour, in higher life,
she would be in as much fancy, when descending into the antiquated
Abigail of Fletcher, as when triumphing in all the airs and vain
graces of a fine lady; a merit that few actresses care for. In a
play of Durfey's, now forgotten, called 'The Western Lass,' which
part she acted, she transformed her whole being--body, shape, voice,
language, look and features--into almost another animal, with a
strong Devonshire dialect, a broad laughing voice, a poking head,
round shoulders, an unconceiving eye, and the most bedizening, dowdy
dress that ever covered the untrained limbs of a Joan Trot. To have
seen her here, you would have thought it impossible that the same
could ever have been recovered to, what was as easy to her, the gay,
the lively, and the desirable. Nor was her humour limited to her sex,
for while her shape permitted, she was a more adroit, pretty fellow
than is usually seen upon the stage. Her easy air, action, mien, and
gesture, quite changed from the coif to the cocked-hat and cavalier
in fashion. People were so fond of seeing her a man that when the
part of Bayes, in 'The Rehearsal,' had for some time lain dormant,
she was desired to take it up, which I have seen her act with all
the true coxcombly spirit and humour that the sufficiency of the
character required.
"But what found most employment for her whole various excellence at
once was the part of Melantha, in 'Mariage à la Mode.' Melantha is
as finished an impertinent as ever fluttered in a drawing-room, and
seems to contain the most complete system of female foppery that
could possibly be crowded into the tortured form of a fine lady. Her
language, dress, motion, manners, soul, and body, are in a continual
hurry to be something more than is necessary or commendable. The
first ridiculous airs that break from her are upon a gallant, never
seen before, who delivers her a letter from her father, recommending
him to her good graces as an honourable lover. Here, now, one would
think that she might naturally show a little of the sex's decent
reserve, though never so slightly covered. No, sir! not a tittle
of it! Modesty is the virtue of a poor-souled country gentlewoman.
She is too much a court-lady to be under so vulgar a confusion. She
reads the letter, therefore, with a careless, dropping lip, and an
erected brow, humming it hastily over, as if she were impatient to
outgo her father's commands, by making a complete conquest of him
at once; and that the letter might not embarrass her attack, crack!
she crumbles it at once into her palm, and pours upon him her whole
artillery of airs, eyes, and motion. Down goes her dainty, diving
body to the ground, as if she were sinking under the conscious load
of her own attractions; then launches into a flood of fine language
and compliment, still playing her chest forward in fifty falls
and risings, like a swan upon waving water; and, to complete her
impertinence, she is so rapidly fond of her own wit that she will
not give her lover leave to praise it. Silent assenting bows, and
vain endeavours to speak, are all the share of the conversation he
is admitted to, which at last he is relieved from, by her engagement
to half a score visits, which she _swims_ from him to make, with a
promise to return in a twinkling."
Happy Mrs. Mountfort, whom, as actress and woman, Cibber has
thus made live for ever! As Mrs. Percival, she was the original
representative of Nell in the piece now known as "The Devil to Pay;"
as Mrs. Mountfort,--Belinda, in the "Old Batchelor;" and as Mrs.
Verbruggen,--Charlotte Welldon, in "Oroonoko;"[42] Lady Lurewell, in
the "Constant Couple;" and Bizarre, in the "Inconstant." She died in
1703.
In some respects, Mrs. Bracegirdle, who was on the stage from 1680
to 1707, and subsequently lived in easy retirement till 1748, was
even superior to Mrs. Mountfort. Mrs. Barry saw her early promise,
and encouraged her in her first essays. In her peculiar line she
was supreme, till the younger and irresistible talent of Mrs.
Oldfield brought about her resignation. Unlike either of these
brilliant actresses, she was exposed to sarcasm only on account of
her excellent private character. Platonic friendships she _did_
cultivate; with those, slander dealt severely enough; and writers
like Gildon were found to declare, that they believed no more in the
innocency of such friendships than they believed in John Mandeville;
while others, like Tom Brown, only gave her credit for a discreet
decorum. Cibber, more generous, declares that her virtuous discretion
rendered her the delight of the town; that whole audiences were
in love with her, because of her youth, her cheerful gaiety, her
musical voice, and her happy graces of manner. Her form was perfect.
Cibber says, "she had no greater claims to beauty than what the most
desirable brunette might pretend to." Other contemporaries notice her
dark brown hair and eyebrows, her dark, sparkling eyes, the face from
which the blush of emotion spread in a flood of rosy beauty over her
neck, and the intelligence and expression which are superior to mere
beauty. She so enthralled her audience that, it is quaintly said,
she never made an _exit_ without the audience feeling as if they had
moulded their faces into an imitation of hers. Then she was as good,
practically, as she was beautiful; and the poor of the neighbourhood
in which she resided looked upon her as a beneficent divinity.
Her performance of Statira was considered a justification of the
frantic love of such an Alexander as Lee's; and "when she acted
Millamant, all the faults, follies, and affectation of that
agreeable tyrant were venially melted down into so many charms and
attractions of a conscious beauty." Young gentlemen of the town
pronounced themselves in tender but unrequited love with her. Jack,
Lord Lovelace, sought a return for his ardent homage, and obtained
not what he sought. Authors wrote characters for her, and poured
out their own passion through the medium of her adorers in the
comedy. For her, Congreve composed his Araminta and his Cynthia, his
Angelica, his Almeria, and the Millamant, in the "Way of the World,"
which Cibber praises so efficiently. That this dramatist was the only
one whose homage was well-received and presence ever welcome to her,
there is no dispute. When a report was abroad that they were about to
marry, the minor poets hailed the promised union of wit and beauty;
and even Congreve, not in the best taste, illustrated her superiority
to himself, when he wrote of her--
"Pious Belinda goes to prayers
Whene'er I ask the favour,
Yet the tender fool's in tears
When she thinks I'd leave her.
Would I were free from this restraint,
Or else had power to win her;
Would she could make of me a saint,
Or I of her a sinner."
The most singular testimony ever rendered to this virtue occurred
on the occasion when Dorset, Devonshire, Halifax, and other peers,
were making of that virtue a subject of eulogy over a bottle. Halifax
remarked, they might do something better than praise her; and thereon
he put down two hundred guineas, which the contributions of the
company raised to eight hundred,--and this sum was presented to the
lady, as a homage to the rectitude of her private character.
Whether she accepted this tribute, I do not know; but I know that
she declined another from Lord Burlington, who had long loved her in
vain. "One day," says Walpole, "he sent her a present of some fine
old china. She told the servant he had made a mistake; that it was
true the letter was for her, but the china for his lady, to whom he
must carry it. Lord! the countess was so full of gratitude, when her
husband came home to dinner."
Mrs. Bracegirdle lived to pass the limit of fourscore, and to the
last was visited by much of the wit, the worth, and some of the folly
of the town. On one occasion, a group of her visitors were discussing
the merits of Garrick, whom she had not seen, and Cibber spoke
disparagingly of his Bayes, preferring in that part his own pert and
vivacious son, Theophilus. The old actress tapped Colley with her
fan; "Come, come, Cibber," she remarked; "tell me if there is not
something like envy in your character of this young gentleman. The
actor who pleases everybody must be a man of merit." Colley smiled,
tapped his box, took a pinch, and, catching the generosity of the
lady, replied: "Faith, Bracey, I believe you are right; the young
fellow _is_ clever!"
Between 1682 and 1695, few actors were of greater note than luckless
Will Mountfort, of whose violent death the beauty of Mrs. Bracegirdle
was the unintentional cause. Handsome Will was the efficient
representative of fops who did not forget that they were gentlemen.
So graceful, so ardent, so winning as a lover, actresses enjoyed the
sight of him pleading at their feet. In the younger tragic characters
he was equally effective. His powers of mimicry won for him the
not too valuable patronage of Judge Jeffries, to gratify whom, and
the lord mayor and minor city magnates, in 1685, Mountfort pleaded
before them in a feigned cause, in which, says Jacobs, "he aped all
the great lawyers of the age in their tone of voice, and in their
action and gesture of body," to the delight of his hearers. On the
stage, he was one of the most natural of actors; and even Queen Mary
was constrained to allow, that disgusted as she was with Mrs. Behn's
"Rover," she could not but admire the grace, ease, intelligence, and
genius of Mountfort, who played the dissolute hero, sang as well as
he spoke, and danced with stately dignity. But poor Will was only the
hero of a brief hour; and the inimitable original of Sir Courtly Nice
was murdered by two of the most consummate villains of the order of
gentlemen then in town.
Charles, Lord Mohun, had, a few years previous to this occurrence,
been tried with the Earl of Warwick for a murder, arising out of a
coffee-house brawl;[43] on being acquitted by the House of Lords, he
solemnly promised never to get into such a difficulty again. But one
Captain Richard Hill, being in "love" with Mrs. Bracegirdle, who
heartily despised him, wanted a villain's assistance in carrying off
the beautiful actress, and found the man and the aid he needed in
Lord Mohun. In Buckingham Court, off the Strand, where the captain
lodged, the conspirators laid their plans; and learning that Mrs.
Bracegirdle, with her mother and brother, was to sup one evening
at the house of a friend, Mr. Page, in Princes Street, Drury Lane,
they hired six soldiers--emissaries always then to be had for such
work--to assist in seizing her and carrying her off in a carriage,
stationed near Mr. Page's house. About ten at night, of the 9th
December 1692, the attempt was made; but what with the lady's
screams, the resistance of the friend and brother, and the gathering
of an excited mob, it failed; and a strange compromise was made,
whereby Lord Mohun and Hill were allowed to unite in escorting her
home to her house, in Howard Street, Strand. In that street lived
also Will Mountfort, against whom the captain uttered such threats,
in Mrs. Bracegirdle's hearing, that she, finding that my lord and the
captain remained in the street--the latter with a drawn sword in his
hand, and both of them occasionally drinking canary--sent to Mrs.
Mountfort, to warn her husband, who was from home, to look to his
safety. Warned, but not alarmed, honest Will, who loved his wife and
respected Mrs. Bracegirdle, came round from Norfolk Street, saluted
Lord Mohun (who embraced him, according to the then fashion with
men), and said a word or two to his lordship, not complimentary to
the character of Hill. Thence, from the latter--words, a blow, and
a pass of his sword through Mountfort's body--which the poor actor,
as he lay dying on the floor of his own dining-room, declared, was
given by Hill before Mountfort could draw his sword. The captain fled
from England, but my lord, surrendering to the watchmen of the Duchy
of Lancaster, was tried by his peers, fourteen of whom pronounced him
guilty of murder; but as above threescore gave a different verdict,
Mohun lived on till he and the Duke of Hamilton hacked one another to
death in that savage butchery--the famous duel in Hyde Park.[44]
Mountfort, at the age of thirty-three, and with some reputation as
the author of half-a-dozen dramas, was carried to the burying-ground
of St. Clement's Danes, where his remains rest with those of Lowen,
one of the original actors of Shakspeare's plays, Tom Otway, and Nat.
Lee. His fair and clever widow became soon the wife of Verbruggen--a
rough diamond--a wild, untaught, yet not an unnatural actor. So
natural, indeed, was he, that Lord Halifax took Oroonoko from Powell,
who was originally cast for it, and gave it to Verbruggen. Such was
the power of Lord Chamberlains! He could touch tenderly the finer
feelings, as well as excite the wilder emotions of the heart. Powell,
on the other hand, was a less impassioned player, who would appear to
have felt more than he made his audience feel, for in the original
_Spectator_, No. 290, February 1712, Powell begs the public to
believe, that if he pauses long in Orestes, he has not forgotten his
part, but is only overcome at the sentiment.
Verbruggen died in 1708. Among his many original characters were
Oroonoko, Bajazet, Altamont, and Sullen. He survived his wife about
five years. I think if she loved Will Mountfort, she stood in some
awe of fiery Jack Verbruggen; who, in his turn, seems to have had
more of a rough courtesy than a warm affection for her. "For he would
often say," remarks Anthony Aston, "D---- me! though I don't much
value my wife, yet nobody shall affront her!" and his sword was drawn
on the least occasion, which was much in fashion in the latter end of
King William's reign. And let me add here, that an actor's sword was
sometimes drawn for the king. James Carlisle, a respectable player,
whose comedy, "The Fortune Hunters," was well received in 1689, was
not so tempted by success as to prefer authorship to soldiership in
behalf of a great cause. When the threatened destruction of the Irish
Protestants was commenced with the siege of Londonderry, Carlisle
entered King William's army, serving in Ireland. In 1691, he was
in the terrible fray in the morass at Aghrim, under Ginkell, but
immediately led by Talmash. In the twilight of that July day, the
Jacobite general, St. Ruth, and the poor player from Drury Lane,
were lying among the dead; and there James Carlisle was buried, with
the remainder of the six hundred slain on the victor's side, before
their surviving companions in arms marched westward.
Carlisle's fellow-actor, Bowen, was a "low comedian" of some talent,
and more conceit. A curious paragraph in the _Post-Boy_, for November
16th, 1700, shows that he left the stage for a time, and under
singular circumstances. The paragraph runs thus:--
"We hear that this day Mr. Bowen, the late famous comedian at the new
Play-house, being convinced by Mr. Collier's book against the stage,
and satisfied that a shopkeeper's life was the readiest way to heaven
of the two, opens a cane shop, next door to the King's Head Tavern,
in Middle Row, Holborn, where it is not questioned but all manner of
canes, toys, and other curiosities, will be obtained at reasonable
rates. This sudden change is admired at, as well as the reasons which
induced him to leave such a profitable employ; but the most judicious
conclude it is the effect of a certain person's good nature, who has
more compassion for his soul than for his own."
Bowen was not absent from the stage more than a year. He was so
jealous of his reputation, that when he had been driven to fury by
the assertion that Johnson played Jacomo, in the "Libertine," better
than he did, and by the emphatic confirmation of the assertion by
Quin, he fastened a quarrel on the latter, got him in a room in a
tavern, alone, set his back to the door, drew his sword, and assailed
Quin with such blind fury, that he killed himself by falling on
Quin's weapon. The dying Irishman, however, generously acquitted his
adversary of all blame, and the greater actor, after trial, returned
to his duty, having innocently killed, but not convinced poor Bowen,
who naturally preferred his Jacomo to that of Johnson.[45]
Peer, later in life, came to grief also, but in a different way. The
spare man was famous for two parts; the Apothecary, in "Romeo and
Juliet," and the actor who humbly speaks the prologue to the play in
"Hamlet." These parts he played excellently well. Nature had made him
for them; but she was not constant to her meek and lean favourite;
for Peer grew fat, and being unable to act any other character with
equal effect, he lost his vocation, and he died lingeringly of grief,
in 1713, when he had passed threescore years and ten. He had been
property-man also, and in this capacity the theatre owed him, at the
time of his decease, among other trifling sums, "threepence, for
blood, in 'Macbeth.'"[46]
Norris, or "Jubilee Dicky," was a player of an odd, formal, little
figure, and a squeaking voice. He was a capital comic actor, and
owed his by-name to his success in playing Dicky, in the "Constant
Couple." So great was this success, that his sons seemed to derive
value from it, and were announced as the sons of Jubilee Dicky.
He is said to have acted Cato, and other tragic characters, in a
serio-burlesque manner. He was the original Scrub, and Don Lopez in
the "Wonder," and died about the year 1733.
Dogget, who was before the public from 1691 to 1713, and who died
in 1721, was a Dublin man--a failure in his native city, but in
London a deserved favourite, for his original and natural comic
powers. He always acted Shylock as a ferociously comic character.
Congreve discerned his talent, and wrote for him Fondlewife in the
"Old Batchelor," Sir Paul Pliant in the "Double Dealer," and the
very different part of Ben in "Love for Love." This little, lively,
cheerful fellow, was a conscientious actor. Somewhat illiterate--he
spelt "whole" phonetically, without the _w_--he was a gentleman in
his acts and bearing. He was prudent too, and when he retired from
partnership in Drury Lane Theatre, with Cibber and Wilks (from 1709
to 1712), on the admission of Booth, which displeased him, he was
considered worth £1000 a year. The consciousness of his value, and
his own independence of character, gave some trouble to managers
and Lord Chamberlains. On one occasion, having left Drury Lane, at
some offence given, he went to Norwich, whence he was brought up to
London, under my Lord's warrant. Dogget lived luxuriously on the
road, at the Chamberlain's expense, and when he came to town, Chief
Justice Holt liberated him, on some informality in the procedure.
Little errors of temper, and extreme carefulness in guarding his
own interests, are now forgotten. Of his strong political feeling we
still possess a trace. Dogget was a staunch Whig. The accession of
the house of Brunswick, dated from a first of August. On that day, in
1716, and under George I., Dogget gave "an _orange_-coloured livery,
with a badge, representing Liberty," to be rowed for by six watermen,
whose apprenticeship had expired during the preceding year. He left
funds for the same race to be rowed for annually, from London Bridge
to Chelsea, "on the same day for ever." The match still takes place,
with modifications caused by changes on and about the river; but the
winners of the money-prizes, now delivered at Fishmongers' Hall, have
yet to be thankful for that prudence in Dogget, which was sneered at
by his imprudent contemporaries.
Dogget never took liberties with an audience; Pinkethman was much
addicted to that bad habit. He would insert nonsense of his own,
appeal to the gallery, and delight in their support, and the
confusion into which the other actors on the stage were thrown; but
the joke grew stale at last, and the offender was brought to his
senses by loud disapprobation. He did not lose his self-possession;
but assuming a penitent air, with a submissive glance at the
audience, he said in a stage _aside_, "Odso, I believe I have been
in the wrong here!" This cleverly-made confession brought down a
round of applause, and "Pinkey" made his exit, corrected, but not
disgraced. Another trait of his stage life is worthy of notice. He
had been remarkable for his reputation as a speaking Harlequin, in
the "Emperor of the Moon." His wit, audacity, emphasis, and point,
delighted the critics, who thought that "expression" would be more
perfect if the actor laid aside the inevitable mask of Harlequin.
Pinkethman did so; but all expression was thereby lost. It was no
longer the saucy Harlequin that seemed speaking. Pinkey, so impudent
on all other occasions, was uneasy and feeble on this, and his
audacity and vivacity only returned on his again assuming the sable
vizard.
Pinkethman was entirely the architect of his own fortune. He made
his way by talent and industry. He established the Richmond Theatre,
and there was no booth at Greenwich, Richmond, or May-Fair, so well
patronised as his. "He's the darling of _Fortunatus_," says Downes,
"and has gained more in theatres and fairs in twelve years than those
who have tugged at the oar of acting these fifty."
After the division of the company into two, in 1695, the following
new actors appeared between that period and the close of the century.
At Drury Lane, Hildebrand Horden, Mrs. Cibber,[47] Johnson, Bullock,
Mills, Wilks; and, as if the century should expire, reckoning a new
glory,--Mrs. Oldfield. At Lincoln's Inn Fields,--Thurmond, Scudamore,
Verbruggen, who joined from Drury Lane, leaving his clever wife
there, Pack; and, that this house might boast a glory something like
that enjoyed by its rival, in Mrs. Oldfield,--in 1700 Booth made his
first appearance, with a success, the significance of which was
recognised and welcomed by the discerning and generous Betterton.
Mrs. Oldfield, Wilks, and Booth, like Colley Cibber, though they
appeared towards the close of the seventeenth, really belong to the
eighteenth century, and I shall defer noticing them till my readers
and I arrive at that latter period. The rest will require but a few
words. Young Horden was a handsome and promising actor, who died
of a brawl at the Rose Tavern, Covent Garden. He and two or three
comrades were quaffing their wine, and laughing, at the bar, when
some fine gentlemen, in an adjacent room, affecting to be disturbed
by the gaiety of the players, rudely ordered them to be quiet. The
actors returned an answer which brought blood to the cheek, fierce
words to the lips, hand to the sword, and a resulting fight, in which
the handsome Hildebrand was slain by a Captain Burgess. The captain
was carried to the Gate-house, from which, says the _Protestant
Mercury_, he was rescued at night, "by a dozen or more of fellows
with short clubs and pistols." So ended, in 1696, Hildebrand Horden,
not without the sympathy of loving women, who went in masks, and some
without the vizard, to look upon and weep over his handsome, shrouded
corpse. A couple of paragraphs in Luttrell's Diary conclude Horden's
luckless story: "Saturday, 17th October, Mr. John Pitts was tried
at the session for killing Mr. Horden, the player, and acquitted,
he being no ways accessary thereto, more than being in company when
'twas done." On Tuesday, 30th November 1697, the diarist writes:
"Captain Burgess, _who killed_ Mr. Horden, the player, has obtained
his Majesty's pardon."
Of Mrs. Cibber, it can only be said that she was the wife of a great,
and of Bullock, that he was the father of a good, actor. To Johnson
no more praise can be awarded than to Bullock.[48] William[49] Mills
deserves a word or two more of notice than these last. He was on
the stage from 1696 to 1737,[50] and though only a "solid" actor,
he excelled Cibber, in Corvino, in Jonson's "Volpone;" surpassed
Smith in the part of Pierre, and was only second to Quin, in Volpone
himself. His Ventidius, in Dryden's tragedy, "All for Love," to
Booth's Anthony, is praised for its natural display of the true
spirit of a rough and generous soldier. Of his original parts, the
chief were Jack Stanmore, in "Oroonoko;" Aimwell, in the "Beaux
Stratagem;" Charles, in the "Busy Body;" Pylades, in the "Distressed
Mother;" Colonel Briton, in the "Wonder;" Zanga, in the "Revenge;"
and Manly, in the "Provoked Husband." That some of these were beyond
his powers is certain; but he owed his being cast for them to the
friendship of Wilks, when the latter was manager. To a like cause
may be ascribed the circumstance of his having the same salary as
Betterton, £4 per week, and £1 for his wife; but this was not till
after Betterton's death.
At Lincoln's Inn Fields, Thurmond, though a respectable actor, failed
to shake any of the public confidence in Betterton. Of Scudamore, I
have already spoken. Pack was a vivacious comic actor, whose "line"
is well indicated in the characters of Brass, Marplot, and Lissardo,
of which he was the original representative. He withdrew from the
stage in 1721, a bachelor; and, in the meridian of life, opened a
tavern in Charing Cross. I have now named the principal actors and
actresses who first appeared between the Restoration and the year
1701, Betterton and Mrs. Barry being the noblest of the players of
that half century; Cibber, Booth, and Mrs. Oldfield, the bright
promises of the century to come. It is disappointing, however, to
find that in the very last year of the seventeenth century "the
grand jury of Middlesex presented the two play-houses, and also the
bear-garden, as nuisances and riotous and disorderly assemblies." So
Luttrell writes, in December 1700, at which time, as contemporary
accounts inform us, the theatres were "pestered with tumblers,
rope-dancers, and dancing men and dogs from France." Betterton was
then in declining health, and appeared only occasionally; the houses,
lacking other attraction, were ill attended, and public taste was
stimulated by offering the "fun of a fair," where Mrs. Barry had
drowned a whole house in tears. The grand jury of Middlesex did not
see that with rude amusements the spectators grew rude too. The
jury succeeded in preventing play-bills from being posted in the
city, and denounced the stage as a pastime which led the way to
murder. The last denunciation was grounded on the fact, that Sir
Andrew Slanning had been killed just before, on his way _from_ the
play-house. When men wore swords and hot tempers these catastrophes
were not infrequent. In 1682, a coffee-house was sometimes turned
into a shambles by gentlemen calling the actors at the Duke's House
"Papists." What was the cause of the fray in which Sir Andrew fell
I do not know. Whatever it was, he was run through the body by Mr.
Cowlan; and that the latter took some unfair advantage is to be
supposed, since he was found guilty of murder, and in December 1700
was executed at Tyburn, with six other malefactors, who, on the same
day, in the Newgate slang of the period, went _Westward Hoe!_
On the poor players fell all the disgrace; but I think I shall be
able to show, in the next chapter, that the fault lay rather with
the poets. These, in their turn, laid blame upon the public; but it
is the poet's business to elevate, and not to pander to a low taste.
The foremost men of the tuneful brotherhood, of the period from the
Restoration to the end of the century, have much to answer for in
this last respect.
FOOTNOTES:
[40] Mountfort seems to have acted as early as 1678.
[41] Norris does not appear in the bills till 1699.
[42] Dr. Doran spells "Oroonoko" wrong throughout. In this he follows
Genest; but the latter corrects his blunder in his "errata."
[43] The trial of Mohun and Warwick took place seven years after
Mountfort's death--that is, in 1699.
[44] It is only fair to Hill to say that Dr. Doran adopts a theory
regarding the death of Mountfort which is, at least, doubtful. It is
quite as possible that he was killed in a fair fight with Hill.
[45] Dr. Doran in his MS. gives the following curious and valuable
note regarding Quin's trial and punishment, which states a fact
absolutely unknown to any of Quin's biographers:--"1718. The papers
of the day say that Quin and Bowen fought on the question which was
the honester man. The coroner's inquest found it 'Se Defendendo;' but
an Old Bailey jury returned a verdict of Manslaughter, and at the end
of the Session I find, among the names of malefactors sent to Tyburn,
or otherwise punished, 'Mr. Quin, the comedian, burnt in the hand.'"
[46] This is taken from the _Guardian_, No. 82. Genest calls it a
humorous account of him.
[47] The elder Mrs. Cibber (second edition).
[48] This is a most inaccurate statement. Benjamin Jonson, or
Johnson, was a comedian of the highest order. Davies calls him
"That chaste copier of nature," and praises him heartily: Victor is
enthusiastic in his appreciation of him: and Lloyd, in his "Actor,"
specially commends him. He was very great in his more famous
namesake's comedies.
[49] Should be John Mills. William was a much less important actor.
[50] 1736. He died November or December 1736.
[Illustration: COLLEY CIBBER.]