Dr. Arne presents his best compliments to Mr. Garrick, heartily
returning thanks for his permission to several of his company to
perform in the intended new comedy at the Opera-House, for the Doctor's
advantage. He is unluckily, and indeed ungenteelly cut out of, at
least, a clear £100, by Mrs. Greville's accepting and promising to
perform the principal comic character, and, after keeping it near three
weeks when it was too late to substitute another, returning the part
with frivolous excuses. The Doctor knows not whether he is rightly
informed; but he has heard that Mr. Garrick discharged Mr. Dibdin. If
(as he has likewise been told, Mr. Garrick has engaged Mr. Arne[22]
in the other's place, the Doctor can better reconcile _his_ being
neglected; otherwise should have thought himself at least as capable
of the business as any other person, and that his name and credit in
the profession would have brought no disgrace on his friendly employer.
Cannot help regretting likewise that, though he has ever maintained
the most cordial respect and regard to Mr. Garrick for many signal
good qualities, as well as for his being incontestably the first genius
of this age in all that he professes,) any young person's belonging
to _him_, though ever so conspicuous for his abilities, is sufficient
cause for his rejection. These unkind prejudices the Doctor can no
otherwise account for, than as arising from an irresistible apathy, to
which (though painfully) he submits; but will never (notwithstanding)
deviate a tittle from that respect, with which he has ever been Mr.
Garrick's most obedient servant."
To this letter Garrick replied: "Drury Lane Theatre, Aug. 24, 1775.
DEAR SIR,--I am very sorry that Mrs. Greville (to whom I gave free
leave to assist you) should behave so ill to you, and more so, that
your loss will be so great by her ill-behaviour. The managers of
Drury-lane have no intention to employ a constant composer, but to
engage with different gentlemen, as business may arise in the theatre.
How can you imagine that I have an irresistible _apathy_ to you? I
suppose you mean _antipathy_, my dear Doctor, by the general turn
of your letter. Be assured, as my nature is very little inclined to
apathy, so it is as far from conceiving an antipathy to you or any
genius in this or any other country. You ask me why I will not make
use of your pupils?--Shall I tell you fairly? because I have not the
opinion of them which you have. I tried Mrs. Bradford, Miss Weller,
and I have now Mr. Fawcet: the two first (as I in a most friendly
manner foretold) did no credit to you or myself by appearing in a piece
which you obstinately insisted on bringing out, though you knew it
would be the means of making a coolness between us. In short, dear
sir, your heart and your genius seem more inclined to the theatre
of Covent-Garden than that of Drury-Lane; and when I consider the
additional music to 'King Arthur,' and the music to 'Elfrida,' I trust
that I am justified in my opinion. Whether I am mistaken or not, I have
not the least antipathy, I give you my honour I have not, to Doctor
Arne; but on the contrary, if I had a work of consequence, I should
wish to employ him, notwithstanding that our theatrical connections
have not yet been serviceable to either of us. I am, dear Sir, your
very sincere well wisher, and humble Servant. DAVID GARRICK."
To this conciliatory epistle Dr. Arne replied in the following month:
"Sept. 3rd 1775. DEAR SIR.--I received the favour of your reply to
my letter, which I could not doubt of, you never being deficient in
politeness. You are certainly in the right to suppose that, if I wrote
the word apathy, I meant antipathy. Did I make the blunder or is it a
joke, like Mrs. Cibber's asking you how you could possibly spell King
with a Q? I must beg your permission to assure you that you are greatly
mistaken in two points. First, when you imagine that I have the least
partiality either in favour of the other theatre or its patentees: next
in saying that the music in 'Elfrida' is much superior to the music I
composed for you in 'King Arthur.' The principal songs, which for air
and mastership I have never excelled, have _not_ been performed. They
were written for the late Mrs. Arne,[23] and fashioned to her sweet
voice, and glaring abilities. Mr. Arne expected, from the music and
her performances of it, that they would be productive of the highest
pleasure, that a judicious audience ever received from either of our
endeavours, and several eminent masters thought as he did: but when
those _coups de maître_ came out of the mouths of persons who could
neither sing in time nor tune, nor turn out one _jeu de la voix_ in
them, the result was much the same as if an approved author had written
a fine part for ----. I was near hurting your delicacy, in nominating
a gentleman, with whose acquaintance I am honoured, and this part,
through an unfortunate event, should be acted by Jemmy Raftor, or
Dagger Marr. Champness's songs, the chorus in the first scene of Mr.
Vernon's 'Come, if you dare,' and several other things that employed my
utmost efforts, were laid aside, in favour of Purcell's music, which
(though excellent in its kind) was Cathedral, and not to the taste of
a modern theatrical audience. But never was my surprise greater than
when I perceived that a drama so fertile of invention and elegant in
poetry, which brought so much to Harry Gifford, and lately in Dublin
should (though strongly performed at a vast expense at Drury-lane) fail
in making that impression on the public, which the managers had an
undoubted right to expect. You frankly say that you have not engaged
any of my pupils, because you have not the same opinion of them that
I have. Be pleased to remember that I did not recommend Miss Weller
as an accomplished singer; but as a young girl, with a good person,
who would be useful in musical pieces; but whose talents in speaking
and acting, might, with your friendly encouragement, in a little time
bring so pretty a figure to be a shining object. Had you seen her
play Mrs. Cadwallader in Foote's farce at Covent Garden, your candour
would induce you to think with that company, who all declared that
no young actress ever did better. When I offered you this girl, you
wanted an accomplished singer. When I recommended Miss Jameson as such,
I was to whistle an angel from Heaven, or you were full; though you
brought out a raw nothing last year, and have taken Mrs. Jewell and
a Jewess[24] this season. I hope you will, as you have kindly done,
excuse this frankness in me, and give me leave to add that I will
positively bet a hundred pounds upon Miss Jameson, against any singer
you can name in either theatre--I might safely a hundred to one. I
wish you would ponder on the contents--not now, because your cast is
rather overloaded--but hereafter, when it may not be so. And now, Sir,
to the last matter I shall at present trouble you with. Bickerstaff
added songs to the Oracle, and brought it out by the title of 'Daphne
and Amintor,' at Drury Lane, which succeeded very well. I remember a
piece of Mr. Lloyd's, called the 'Capricious Lovers,' when performed in
Clive's time. Every body liked the Burletta, but none were pleased with
the music--which has induced me to reset it. Now, Sir, if you think
it will (with the addition of my new music) fill up a vacancy, till
the town fills, the vocal, instrumental, and speaking parts, are ready
drawn out: the title may, and should be altered to 'The Country Girl
at Court,' being the original one, viz.: 'La Contadina in Cort,' and
(for a sixth night) I will attend the getting up of the musical part,
and deliver up the composition to your use. If you don't want it, make
no ceremony in saying so; for it will be of use to me, with my catches
and glees. Have I been studying the longitude? Perhaps so; but if I
have tired you, it is more than _you_ could do by _me_, were you to
fill a ream of paper.
"This requires no other answer, than just whether you can, with
advantage to your undertaking, make use of my new composition or not. I
am, Sir, with due respects, ever your friend and humble servant,
"THOMAS AUGUSTINE ARNE."
There is another letter from Arne to Garrick, without date; it reads as
follows:
"DEAR SIR,--Mr. Johnston informing me of your desire to receive my
demand for the composition of the music in 'The Little Gipsy,' I
beg leave to expatiate a little thereon. I think a musician, with
regard to theatrical employment, under an unfortunate predicament,
if comparatively considered with the author of any little piece, for
the following reason. They should both have learning, invention, and
a perfect knowledge of effects; but an author of a _petite pièce_ can
instantaneously write down his thoughts as they arise, whereas, the
poor musician, when he has conceived an air, in every respect suitable
to the sense, and emphatically expressed in every part, has done but
half his business; for he has all the instrumental accompaniments to
study and write down; insomuch as, that in a composition of ten,
twelve, or more different parts, when he has written a whole side of
music paper, he has the mortification to have composed but one line;
all, except the voice part, being requisite to that one line. And yet
an author of a farce will frequently make upwards of £100 by his sixth
night, besides £50 by the sale of his copy to the printer; while the
poor devil of a crotchet monger is thought well paid with £50 for six
times the study and labour. This last observation, though strictly
just, is not, in me, productive of a single complaint or grumble; but
convictive that I have taken infinite pains to be master of a scurvy
profession. As to my bill, it amounts, at my constant and reasonable
rule of charging, but to £45 13 6: If you should think I have employed
extraordinary time and care to make the composition proper and perfect
in its kind, you will not overpay me with £50. But do as you please;
I shall be satisfied, and am, with true respects, Dear Sir, your most
obedient servant,
"THOMAS AUGUSTINE ARNE."
This letter is endorsed by Garrick, "Dr. Arne, about bill for 'May
Day.' I gave him the £50 desired."
"May Day, or the Little Gipsy," a musical farce in one act, by David
Garrick, was produced at Drury Lane Theatre on the 28th of August, 1775.
There is much to be learned from the correspondence which passed
between Arne and Garrick; the following letter, undated, is full of
interest:
"DEAR SIR,--I was never so conceited of any abilities, as _non cedere
majoribus_; but then I ever was above servility, and could not pay a
compliment to the opinion of Socrates or Seneca, at the expense of my
reason. _Humanum est errare_, therefore the main study of every wise
man is to arrive at rectitude, which cannot possibly be accomplished by
giving an implicit concession to our first determinations. But shall
Arne, a _musician_, have the _hardiesse_ to dispute with Garrick, in
his _own_ way?--Yes, if Garrick, not giving himself time to debate
on the natural effects arising from their causes, peremptorily gives
his _ego dixi_ to what does not (to Arne) appear natural. But where
Garrick is pleased to exercise his judgment, as in his own parts, by a
fair trial of his opinion pro and con? No, Arne would as soon dispute
with Sir Isaac Newton (if living) on his doctrine of colours, _sed ad
propositum_.
"When Miss Weller rehearsed part of Polly's character in the
green-room, I knew it would be in vain to attempt a justification of
her manner, at that juncture, and therefore reserved my sentiments
for this occasion. I shall only particularize the soliloquy, 'Now
I'm a wretch indeed,' which, in all the Polly's I ever saw, had no
effect on the audience, except when Mrs. Cibber played the character,
who spoke and acted in the same manner as Miss Weller does; and Mr.
Barry had the same idea of it. In _you_ this position is glaringly
illustrated. Now, in regard to Polly's situation, it is this. She has
been soliciting her husband's life with her parents, which, instead
of moving their obdurate hearts, has had no other effect, than her
father's leaving her mother with a determination to prepare matters at
the Old Bailey for his death. Polly, overhearing this, comes on in an
agony of grief, says, 'Now I'm a wretch indeed!'--thinks she sees him
already in the cast--that she hears vollies of sighs from the windows
in Holborn--then abruptly breaks out--'I see him at the tree--the
whole circle are in tears--even butchers weep.' Can it be natural that
the sight of a beloved husband at the gallows should excite fainter
emotions in a doting wife, than arise in butchers exercised in offices
of cruelty? Would not an apple-woman, who should see so fine a youth,
merely in the cast, naturally clap her hands together, through depth
of concern, and exclaim 'Ah, poor soul! God bless him and take him to
his mercy!'--perhaps shed tears? Certainly; then Polly's emotion on
figuring him at the fatal tree, where the whole circle, through mere
humanity, are in tears, can be nothing short of distraction, and any
action, short of the force she gave it, must appear trifling, faint,
and unfeeling. You are far from having seen the best of her in that
character, which appears in her scenes of love, fondness, fears, and
strokes of tenderness with Mackheath. But I was not willing to give
you too much trouble, and besides, I plainly saw that you could not
divest yourself of prepossession; else, how was it possible that a fine
voice both for speaking and singing; action open, easy, and graceful;
an unexceptionable person and figure, with a countenance free from
the least distortion, could be productive of such faint approbation?
You have often said you regarded me--but, as in the case of Miss
Brent, were I to produce an angel, her being ushered by _me_ would
create coolness and indifference. This observation, which I could more
forcibly illustrate, I plainly see has put you out of humour. Give
me leave to say, so it has _me_, who am not without my feeling on so
mortifying an occasion. You are possessed both of fortune and merit;
the one considerable, the other supreme. I pay you no particular
respect, on account of the former; but the highest imaginable on
account of the latter. Providence, by placing you in this beneficial
situation, meant you as the sun and rain, to cheer and water plants
of _genius_. Your own talents, and the just encouragement they have
met with, demand, as a debt, those beneficent offices from you. The
pay given to three _nothings_ would be a suitable reward to a rising,
promising genius, whose industry and advancement could never fail of
repaying you ten fold in return. Having faithfully kept my promise to
take no material step, without first acquainting you with my design,
and therefore given you a fair offer of Miss Weller, I will trouble you
with no more letters, or applications on her account; so shall only
add, that if you are inclined to encourage and cherish _her_, as you
have done by _many_ others, with much lesser talents and requisites, I
am desirous, and immediately ready to give you the preference; but if
otherwise, as I have only my _small merit and hard labour to subsist
on_, let it never be a matter of the least difference between us, that
I have acted like a man of honour, and you----overlooked a jewel. I am,
Sir, as I ever was, your sincere friend, and most obedient servant,
"THO^{S.} AUG^{NE.} ARNE."
No reply to the above can be found. The following letter from Arne
to Garrick must have been written soon after the above: "Sept. 3rd.
DEAR SIR,--Having just received a letter from the ingenious author of
the two operas, and 'Pennyworth of Wit,' under your kind inspection,
wherein he begs concealment of his name, till the fate of one or other
of his pieces is determined."
Arne enclosed a copy of his unnamed friend's letter, which need not
be produced here. He then finished his own as follows: "Now give me
leave to wish you would consult your assured friend in the musical
productions of your theatre, which (waving your own consequence,
undeniably the first with the public) might produce the best second
dish at the feast. Though half a ghost myself, I have more honour than
the whole ghost in 'Hamlet.' He was forbid to tell the secrets of his
prison house----I tell them not, through principle; but this I _may_
say, _in confidence_, you actually want strength for the exhibition
of musical performances--and why should you?--Mr. Garrick, though
I wish him immortal, to the grief of the discerning world, is not
so--sickness, pain, mortality may intervene. Let it not be said, that
so great a master of his art is deaf or blind to rising merit. I tell
you _bona fide_, that the young woman and young girl [Miss Weller's
sister] whom I recommended, are real objects of your notice, as
handsome women, complete figures, and promising actresses, abstracted
from their utility as singers. Pray be so obliging as to let me hear
from you as soon as you come to town, and be assured that if my skill
or connexions are of any value, they shall be exerted to the utmost,
in testimony of the respect with which I am, Dear Sir, your faithful
friend, and humble servant,
"THO^{S} AUG^{NE.} ARNE."
There is yet another letter from Arne to Garrick, and a characteristic
reply, both undated, but which probably were written in 1775:
"Nov. 17. SIR,--As you have causelessly dropped the friend, I have
sense enough to write at a becoming distance. You will undoubtedly
hear, by the freshest advice, the _tête-à-tête_ alteration between
your brother and me. How could it happen otherwise, when the first
salutation I received was 'Dr. Arne, we have considered of the farce,
and PROTEST AGAINST IT'; which nearly led me into a mistake; for how
could I suppose he meant the farce you had first promised to do, and
after the last rehearsal concluded on? But on his warm repititions, I
found that I should have protested against the farce that has been so
long acting ex-parte managers, and tragedy on the composer's part. I
answered, 'I am not surprised, it tallies exactly with the treatment I
have all along received,' (meaning not only on account of the farce,
but the discharge of two young women,[25] handsome, perfect figures,
and possessed of better talents than most on either stage have set out
with:) I scorn to retract my words, and think Mr. G. Garrick[26] will
equally scorn to aggravate them. The young women brought three very
good houses for the opening of a season, and met with more public
applause than I have ever heard; and though inexperience, mixed with
sensibility, might intimidate Miss Weller so as sometimes to exceed the
exact sound, it was so little that the audience were not susceptible
of it. If you had no intention to retain them, one night's performance
had surely been sufficient for their condemnation; but they had not
then been supplanted by my son's application;--permit me to give you
joy of the acquisition. As to singing in tune, by my salvation! not
above three in both theatres can do it, though several have had nearly
twenty years' experience. I did not, _as has been done to you more than
once_, impose my young pupils on you as finished singers; why then
should they be discharged for what you knew before their appearance,
especially after three warm receptions? Your public declaration this
morning appeared as meant to complete the many shocks which I and mine
have received--it was ineffectual: I shall think myself happy to be
mistaken. If you are willing to show a friendship which I shall deem
an honour to receive, it will not be sufficient that you perform the
piece; I shall have the presumption to hope that you will further
its success; though I fear that the cold breath of the manager, like
a wintry blast, has chilled the hearts of his dependents; it is a
distemper as catching as the itch. There has been but one decent
rehearsal which was in your presence; though, even then, two principals
were absent; nor can I expect any better, till the manager will either
graciously appear, or at least send his general mandate: and, but
for the respect due to the author, I had long since withdrawn the
prettiest music, in the light style, that I ever wrote; but I will not,
uncompelled, incur the resentment of a gentleman, a man of fortune
and a scholar, respected by the first personages of the University of
Oxford, by assuring him, from your promise, that his piece will be
performed with all possible expedition; then, that it is in rehearsal,
and now, by writing him word that you 'protest against it'? I once had
a sparring of this kind with Mr. Rich; he generously acknowledged that
he had not treated me kindly, and misunderstanding was the cement of
our friendship ever after. May this candid explanation prove equally
successful! It shall not be my fault if it does not, being ever
desirous of proving myself, your real humble servant,
"THO^{S.} AUG^{NE.} ARNE."
Garrick's reply is very short and sharp:
"DEAR SIR.--I have read your play and rode your horse, and do not
approve of either. They both want particular spirit which alone can
give pleasure to the reader and the rider. When the one wants wits,
and the other the spur, they both jog on very heavily. I must keep
the horse, but I have returned you the play. I pretend to some little
knowledge of the last; but as I am no jockey, they cannot say that the
knowing one is taken in. I am, Sir, your most obedient servant. D. G."
Endorsed "Designed for Dr. Arne, who sold me a horse, a very dull one;
and sent me a comic opera, ditto."
In 1776, early in the year, Miss Abrams, referred to in a letter from
Dr. Arne to Garrick, made her first appearance on the Drury Lane stage
in Garrick and Arne's "May-day, or the Little Gipsy." She possessed a
sweet voice and good taste, which had been excellently cultivated under
Arne's tuition. At the last rehearsal of the piece, which took place
on the morning of the day of performance, Garrick suddenly conceived
that a dance of rustics would improve the play, and told Dr. Arne of
his idea, adding, "I suppose it would be impossible for you to compose
a tune for it in time?" The Doctor, smiling and rubbing his elbow,
according to his usual practice, replied, "We'll see what can be done,"
and calling for pen, ink, and music paper, sat down at the prompter's
table, and in less than five minutes produced one of the prettiest
dancing tunes ever heard, which, when played by the band, astonished
and delighted Garrick so much that, forgetting his age, he ran up to
the Doctor, and embracing, took him by the hands and danced with him
round the stage with much grace and animation, to the admiration of all
who witnessed it.