address myself_, that whenever T. Harris and his colleague will prefer
a Bill in Chancery against us, respecting _our present Articles and
past Transactions_, neither I nor Mr. Powell will make any delay in
putting in a full and sufficient answer. And I now, in this public
manner, call upon them to file this long-threatened bill against us.
And I do hereby pledge my _honour_, not to T. Harris, but _to the
Publick_, that no means or endeavours of mine, or Mr. Powell, shall be
wanting to bring it to a short and speedy conclusion.
"It now only remains to assure that Publick, whose protection we have
already so often experienced, that we are determined to open the
Playhouse at the usual time; and then to submit it to their tribunal,
whether they will suffer the insolence and tyranny of T. Harris to
interrupt their amusements, as well as to oppress us and the rest of
their servants in Covent-garden Theatre."
The invitation to try the merits of the dispute between Messrs. Colman,
Harris, &c. offered at the close of the paper published by the former,
was accepted; and a decision took place in the Court of Chancery July
1770, when it was decreed that Mr. Colman should continue the acting
manager, subject to the advice of the three other managers.
One of the most splendid Masquerades which has taken place in England
was that given by the King of Denmark at the Opera-house, in 1768.
3000 persons, or nearly that number, were present, and received an
entertainment consisting of every delicacy in the utmost profusion.
I have just ceased to applaud the old custom of opening the doors of
the Theatre _before five o'clock_; and have at this moment to notice
the strange caprice of the publick, in requiring the managers _to open
at five_. This alteration occurred in October 1768.
The stupid and barbarous diversion of Throwing at Cocks, practised by
the vulgar on Shrove Tuesday, was very properly prevented by the Police
in February 1769.
The reader cannot form a better idea of the amusements prepared for the
publick by Mrs. Cornely than from the following account, published a
few days after the Masquerade occurred February 1770.
"Monday night the principal Nobility and Gentry of this kingdom, to
the number of near eight hundred, were present at the masked ball
at Mrs. Cornely's in Soho-square, given by the gentlemen of the
Tuesday Night's Club, held at the Star and Garter Tavern in Pall-mall.
Soho-square and the adjacent streets were lined with thousands of
people, whose curiosity led them to get a sight of the persons going to
the Masquerade; nor was any coach or chair suffered to pass unreviewed,
the windows being obliged to be let down, and lights held up to display
the figures to more advantage. At nine o'clock the doors of the house
were opened, and from that time for about three or four hours the
company continued to pour into the assembly. At twelve the lower
rooms were opened: in these were prepared the side-boards, containing
sweetmeats and a cold collation, in which elegance was more conspicuous
than profusion. The feast of the night was calculated rather to gratify
the eye than the stomach, and seemed to testify the conductor's sense
of its being prepared almost on the eve of Ash Wednesday. The richness
and brilliancy of the dresses were almost beyond imagination; nor did
any assembly ever exhibit a collection of more elegant and beautiful
female figures. Among them were Lady Waldegrave, Lady Pembroke, the
Dutchess of Hamilton, Mrs. Crewe, Mrs. Hodges, Lady Almeria Carpenter,
&c. Some of the most remarkable figures were,
"A Highlander (Mr. R. Conway.)
"A double Man, half Miller, half Chimney Sweeper (Sir R. Phillips.)
"A political Bedlamite, run mad for Wilkes and Liberty, and No. 45.
"A figure of Adam in flesh-coloured silk, with an apron of fig-leaves.
"A Druid (Sir W. W. Wynne.)
"A figure of Somebody.
"Ditto of Nobody.
"A running-footman, very richly dressed, with a cap set with diamonds,
and the words 'Tuesday Night's Club' in the front (the Earl of
Carlisle.)
"His Royal Highness the Duke of Gloucester in the old English habit,
with a star on the cloak.
"Midas (Mr. James the Painter.)
"Miss Monckton, daughter to Lord Gallway, appeared in the character of
an Indian Sultana, in a robe of cloth of gold, and a rich veil. The
seams of her habit were embroidered with precious stones, and she had a
magnificent cluster of diamonds on her head; the jewels she wore were
valued at 30,000_l._ The Duke of Devonshire was very fine, but in no
particular character. Captain Nugent of the Guards, in the character of
Mungo, greatly diverted the company.
"The Countess Dowager of Waldegrave wore a dress richly trimmed with
beads and pearls, in the character of Jane Shore. Her Grace of Ancaster
claimed the attention of all the company in the dress of Mandane.
The Countess of Pomfret, in the character of a Greek Sultana, and
the two Miss Fredericks, who accompanied her as Greek Slaves, made a
complete groupe. The Dutchess of Bolton, in the character of Diana, was
captivating. Lord Edg--b, in the character of an Old Woman, was full as
lovely as his lady, in that of a Nun.
"Lady Stanhope, as Melpomene, was a striking fine figure. Lady Augusta
Stuart, as a Vestal, and Lady Caroline, as a Fille de Patmos, shewed
that true elegance may be expressed without gold and diamonds. The
Chimney Sweeper, Quack Doctor, and a Friar, acquitted themselves with
much entertainment to the company.
"About two o'clock the company began to depart, in effecting which
there was great difficulty.
"We hear that two Great Personages were complimented with two tickets
for Monday night's masquerade, which they very politely returned.
"Most of the carriages that came to the masquerade were chalked by the
populace with 'Wilkes and Liberty.'"
It will no doubt be remembered by many, that a very good representation
of an eruption of Mount Ætna, on a large scale, with Cyclops at work
in the centre of the mountain, was exhibited a few years since in
the garden at Ranelagh. That it may not be supposed that this scene
was a new thought, I shall describe the entertainment of an evening
at Mary-le-bon gardens when they were in full reputation. The usual
concerts and songs were performed; but Signior Torré had been employed
to prepare a representation of Mount Ætna as an addition to the common
fire-works, consisting of vertical wheels, suns, stars, globes, &c. in
honour of the King's birth-day, June 4, 1772, who was, with the Queen,
represented in transparencies surrounded by stars. When the fire-works
were concluded, a curtain which covered the base of the mountain rose,
and discovered Vulcan leading the Cyclops to work at their forge; the
fire blazed, and Venus entered with Cupid at her side, who begged them
to make for her son those arrows which are said to be the causes of
love in the human breast: they assented, and the mountain immediately
appeared in eruption with lava rushing down the precipices.
A few trees stand as mementoes of Mary-le-bon gardens near the North
end of Harley-street.
January 27, 1772, was rendered remarkable in the annals of Amusement
by the opening of the Pantheon in Oxford-street, which had been
erected at a vast expence from the designs of Wyatt, the celebrated
architect. Near two thousand persons of the highest rank and fashion
assembled on this occasion to admire the splendid structure, which
contained fourteen rooms, exclusive of the rotunda: the latter had
double colonnades or recesses for the reception of company, ornamented
with the reliefs peculiar to the Grecian style of building; and the
dome contained others equally rich. In order to support the propriety
of the name given to this superb place of fashionable resort, the
architect introduced niches round the base of the dome with statues of
the Heathen Deities; and to _complete_ the circle, added _Britannia
and their present Majesties_. Such were the ideas of classic taste
exhibited by the proprietors; the Gods worshiped in the _real
Pantheon_, were compelled to witness a modern Pantheon _dedicated to
pleasures_ and amusements of which even Jupiter himself was ignorant
when in the Court of Olympus.
One of the first steps of the conductors was an order to exclude all
loose women: an order which deserves honourable mention, but one
impossible to be executed. The Masquerades given at the Pantheon would
have been thin of company indeed, had not improper persons formed part
of the silly groupe. The nature of those masked entertainments is so
confined, that when one is seen or described, novelty is at an end.
I shall therefore pass them over, and merely mention, that part of
the commemoration of Handel, noticed at large in the first volume of
"Londinium Redivivum," was celebrated at the Pantheon; after which
caprice or some other cause converted it into an Opera-house, and very
soon after an _accidental fire_ consumed it. The Pantheon has been
rebuilt, but on a miserable plan indeed compared with the original:
it now serves for Masquerades at different periods; and Garnerin and
Lunardi have exhibited their balloons there.
It is by no means creditable to the memory of Mr. Garrick, that
he acted the Beggar's Opera for two seasons in opposition to the
entreaties of Sir John Fielding and his brethren the Magistrates, and
after they had informed him that the representation invariably produced
fresh victims to offended Justice. The latter season alluded to, 1773,
produced a long and serious contention between persons who never
before saw or had received the least injury from each other, through
the turbulent and daring effrontery of the late veteran Macklin. This
actor, offended at the conduct of a player named Reddish, and that of
Sparks, the son of another, presumed to make the publick parties in the
affair, by thus addressing the audience at Covent-garden Theatre on the
night of October 30.
"Ladies and Gentlemen--My appearing before you in my own character,
instead of that which I am this night appointed to perform, is an
unexpected measure; but in my distressed condition, from my feelings as
a man and an actor, and _in order to produce decency_ in this Theatre
to-night, and from my duty to the publick, I humbly hope it will be
found to be a necessary one. I am sensible, that, by a certain set of
people, this address to you will be deemed a very saucy step; and that
their wishes and endeavours will be, that it may be attended with a
very serious and fatal animadversion; but I hope and trust, that it
will excite a very different effect in the minds of the candid and the
just, when they shall have heard my motive for this proceeding; which,
with your indulgence and protection, I will humbly lay before you."
This period was the touch-stone of opinion; the majority of the
audience requested Macklin to proceed: one person exclaimed "No," but
was silenced. The actor proceeded:
"Through the course of my theatrical life, I have constantly thought
it the duty of an actor, and his best policy, to regulate his conduct
in such a manner as to merit the credit and esteem of those who know
him; so as to be able by moral justness to defy, and to be proof
against all insinuations, aspersions, or open attacks upon his private
character. This has been my constant doctrine; this my constant policy;
and as a proof of my practice being conformable to these principles, I
here appeal, not to hearsay, credulity, or party, but to all who know
me: and I call upon every individual of the publick in this great
metropolis to produce, if they can, a single instance to the contrary."
A person observed at this instant, "That is a bold challenge, Mr.
Macklin;" to which he replied, "Sir, I will abide by it; and I repeat
it; I say a _single instance_."
"From the first of my appearing upon the Stage, I have met with the
indulgence, protection, and encouragement of a benevolent publick,
until I attempted to act the part of Macbeth last Saturday: in that
attempt I have not the least reason to complain of that awful and
impartial tribunal, which, from my observation, and the experience of
the oldest actors I have known, never yet condemned piece or actor that
had merit: but the usage I have met with from news-writers is without
example in the history of the Stage. I have here in my hand folios of
paragraphs, epigrams, intelligences, and what are called criticisms,
upon _me_: some even before I appeared in the character; such as do no
great honour to the press, or to the genius, candour, or erudition, of
the gentlemen who produced them. I will not give a name or a quality to
these productions; the present publick and posterity, should they meet
with them, will do it for me."
A voice from the gallery demanded an explanation, why he felt indignant
at what had passed on the Saturday alluded to. Macklin affected to
be at a loss what the gentleman meant: an altercation then ensued
between Mr. Sparks, the person who spoke, and another, which ended _in
a challenge_ to walk out, or to take the unknown's address. Quiet again
took place.
"These criticks or partisans, not satisfied with their newspaper
attacks upon my powers as a man and an actor, assembled in the gallery
last Saturday night; and in two or three parties dispersed about the
gallery, did by groans, laughs, hissing, and loud invectives, attack
me in a violent manner. These parties were headed by two gentlemen,
whom for the sake of truth and justice, with your permission, I will
name.--The one was Mr. Reddish, a player belonging to Drury-lane
Theatre; the other, one Mr. Sparks, a son of the late Luke Sparks,
of worthy memory, an actor belonging to Covent-garden Theatre. This
charge, I own, is a heavy one against Mr. Reddish in particular; as he
is himself an actor: it is likewise heavy on Mr. Sparks, who intends
to be one. Mr. Garrick, in his own defence, I am told, enquired
into this matter in a formal manner behind the scenes; and upon the
evidence produced by Mr. Reddish and Mr. Sparks, I am informed that
Mr. Garrick did acquit Mr. Reddish of the charge; but I here pledge
myself to give a positive proof of the fact of Mr. Reddish's hissing,
which shall be supported by all the circumstances of probability and
truth. I am afraid I have taken up too much of your time; yet, with
your permission, I have a few words more to offer on this disagreeable
subject.
"_The condition of an actor_ on the first night of his performing such
a character as Macbeth is the most alarming, to a mind anxious to
gain the public favour, _of any condition that the pursuit of fame or
fortune can cast man into_. A dull plodding actor, whose utmost merit
is mediocrity, is in no danger; he plods on from the indulgence of
the publick, and their habit of seeing him, in safety; he never is in
danger of offending by starts of genius, or by the unruly fire that the
_fury of his spirits_ enkindles. Mediocrity is his merit; mediocrity
is all that is expected from him; mediocrity is his protection. But
the actor that can be impassioned in the extreme, and is _inflamed_
by Shakspeare's genius, will, on his first appearance in Macbeth,
be _carried out of the reach of sober judgment_, and of wary, nice
discretion; those passions and that _flame_ will _run away with
him_, will make him _almost breathless_, _crack_ or hoarsen in his
voice, arrest his memory, _confine his sight_, his action, gait, and
deportment; and all that candour and the nicest judgment can expect
from him is, that he shewed he understood his character, that he gave
noble marks of genius and judgment, and that, when he had played the
part half a dozen times, he would then charm and convince his audience
of his powers, and of his having a competent capacity for it.
"But let this man be but checked by a single hiss, all his fire will
instantly cool; his spirits abate their motions; grief and despair will
seize him, and at once he becomes the pining broken-hearted slave of
the tyrant that ruined a wretch that was labouring to please him, who
did not dare to resent the cruelty, nor to assist himself. A soldier
in the very front of war, at the teeth of his enemy, _and at the mouth
of a cannon_, is not in so wretched, _nor in so fatal_, so hopeless
a state. The noble ardour of the soldier gives him hope, alacrity,
effort, double, treble vigour and courage; the very danger adds to
both, and to such a degree, as to make him lose even the idea of
danger; _and sure death, even death, in that state is preferable_ to an
actor, who by his post is _obliged to endure the hiss of a Reddish, or
a Sparks_; or a critic who hisses him for daring to act a part of Mr.
Garrick's, and who would _damn him_ to want and _infamy_, to shew he is
an admirer of Mr. Garrick."
Mr. Macklin then went on beseeching the audience to believe that the
agitation he felt on Saturday evening prevented him from exerting his
faculties; that he was then under the same terrors; and concluded by
begging them to try his merits by uninterrupted attention for a few
nights, and then applaud or reject him.
Messrs. Reddish and Sparks, though they knew Macklin had gained public
approbation by his strange address, did not hesitate severally to make
oath that Mr. Reddish never hissed the complainant; and that, when
Sparks once did, Reddish warmly insisted that he should forbear. In
addition to these assertions, Sparks published a letter, containing
a positive denial of his being present at the second performance of
Macbeth on the Saturday mentioned.
The reader to whom this scene is now first known cannot but perceive
Macklin's aim in all his proceedings; and, if he entertains the same
ideas of justice with myself, he will be pleased to find those aims
completely disappointed. Whatever impropriety of conduct Reddish and
Sparks might have been guilty of, Macklin had no right to disturb the
public peace by making many hundreds of inconsiderate people judges of
his or their private jealousies.
On Saturday evening the 6th of November Macklin _acted_ the second part
of his appeal to the audience, and affected to be literally overcome by
the awful situation his opponents and himself stood in before Heaven
and the frequenters of theatrical amusements. He called for a glass
of water to prevent him from fainting; and the compassionate audience
ordered him a chair, on which they desired he might sit and read his
proofs in opposition to the oaths of Reddish and Sparks. When he
finished the play proceeded.
Transactions of this nature never fail to produce parties, which
arrange themselves on either side of the question, as caprice, or
justice, actuates the individuals who compose them. A trial of strength
on this _most important_ subject took place at Covent-garden Theatre
on Thursday evening November 18, when a considerable number of persons
raised a violent uproar, for the express purpose of preventing the
commencement of the play in which Macklin was announced to perform.
After some time had elapsed, the offender appeared, but to no purpose,
as neither himself, his accusers, or approvers, could distinguish a
word uttered by either; but the narrators of the disgusting occurrence
say, that Macklin retired and threw off his dress for the character
of Shylock, and re-appeared; that Mr. Bensley was commissioned by
the Managers to pronounce--nobody would hear what--and retired; that
Macklin dressed again, and again entered, but the noise, in which
"_Off_" predominated, encreased with tenfold violence, and he was
even commanded to go on his knees. This he positively refused, and
made his "_exit in a rage_." Mr. Woodward succeeded Mr. Bensley as a
pacificator with equal success. The Managers at length, foreseeing
perhaps fatal consequences, sent Mr. Owenson upon the Stage, who held
a large board before him on which they had written with chalk, "At the
command of the publick, Mr. Macklin is discharged." This concession
procured loud applause from the opposers of the actor; but his friends
in the gallery, doubly exasperated, demanded "Shylock, Macklin, and
Love a-la-mode," instead of "She Stoops to Conquer," which was begun
by the Manager's direction. The confusion soon became general, and
many persons left the Theatre. Mr. Fisher, one of the proprietors,
entered, and attempted to speak; but Colman, and Colman alone, would
satisfy the audience. That gentleman was at length induced to make (as
he observed) _his first appearance_, attended by Colonel Lechmere; a
general plaudit succeeded; and when silence could be obtained he said
that, from the hour he had undertaken the management of the Theatre,
his first wish had ever been to know the pleasure of the publick, that
he might instantly comply with it; and, as a proof of the truth of his
assertion, he referred the audience to the _legible card_ which had
just been offered to their perusal. Mr. Colman farther observed, that
the Managers really had no other play in readiness besides "She Stoops
to Conquer;" and recommended those who were displeased with it to
receive their money and retire. A new trial of skill commenced between
the contents and non-contents; the musick played, and the first scene
of the above play was completed; but the second produced such brutal
rage in the gallery, that it became unsafe to remain on the stage, and
the curtain was finally dropped. The audience immediately retired, and
received their entrance-money as they went; but the Managers are said
to have lost near 90_l._ by certain despicable wretches who clambered
from the Pit into the Boxes, and thus obtained Box prices instead of
Pit.
That this most unpleasant affair terminated without bloodshed or
bruises, or broken limbs, must excite both astonishment and pleasure;
and I think it must be allowed equally astonishing, that Mr. Macklin
ever dared again to face an audience.
It is singular that Macklin was under the necessity of publishing the
ensuing extract of a letter, directed to Dr. Kenrick, _to clear himself
of a charge of hissing_ a new play on the 26th of November.
"SIR,
"So far from injuring you in the point you complain of, I
solemnly declare that I sincerely wished you success in
your 'Duellist,' as I do every person who undertakes the
arduous and perilous task of writing for the Stage. And I
further assure you, that I was not near the Theatre on the
night that your Comedy was acted. Nay, that, to the best
of my recollection, I never spoke to a person, directly or
indirectly, who was going, or who told me he intended to go,
to 'The Duellist;' and that I was employed about business
of the utmost consequence to myself the whole day on which
your Comedy was acted; particularly from five that evening
till after all the Theatres were shut for that night. And
as to my friends, Sir, _the world_ must know that I cannot
answer whether any of them were at the 'Duellist' or not,
since I was not there myself; nor ought I to be responsible
for their conduct there. But, Sir, in justice to those whom
I esteem my friends, and for your farther satisfaction, I do
assure you that I have not heard of one friend of mine that
was at your Comedy. My testimony, perhaps, in this cause may
be deemed in your opinion weak and partial, as it tends to
exonerate myself and my friends. In answer to that argument,
Sir, it is the best that it is in my power to give from the
nature of the case. In your request of a re-hearing, and in
the consequence should you be re-heard, I sincerely wish you
success. I am, &c.
CHARLES MACKLIN."
Dr. Kenrick was supported by a strong party, which declared that his
play had been unjustly condemned; and that gentleman thought proper to
intimate, through the public papers, to Mr. Colman, that 'The Duellist'
would be called for on the evening when a Mr. Brown was announced to
appear for the first time in the character of Othello; thus clearing
himself from the presumed imputation of wishing to injure a new
performer. This hint did not, however, produce the play; and Kenrick
and his friends were under the necessity of having recourse to other
measures; which were, distributing printed papers to the publick,
and showering cards down upon the Pit from the Gallery: the latter
contained these words, "No Play till an assurance of The Duellist being
given out for Monday." Whether the riot of the preceding week had
satiated the multitude, or whatever else might be the cause, the affair
ended merely in violent hissing and clapping, and Brown had a candid
hearing.