Betty’s imitators—Miss Mudie, “The Young Roscia”—Her
first appearance in London—Reception by the audience—Her
fate—Ireland’s forgery of “Vortigern and Rowena”—Fires among the
theatres—Destruction of Covent Garden and Drury Lane.
BETTY’S success raised up, of necessity, some imitators—there were
other Roscii, who soon disappeared; and, as ladies deny the sterner
sex the sole enjoyment of all the good things of this world, a Roscia
sprang into existence—a Miss Mudie, who entered on her theatrical
career, even earlier than Master Betty. _Morning Post_, July 29, 1805:
“The Young Roscia of the Dublin Stage (only seven years old), who is
called the _Phenomenon_, closed her engagement there on Monday last, in
the part of _Peggy_, in the _Country Girl_, which she is stated to have
pourtrayed with ‘wonderful archness, vivacity, and discrimination.’”
Children, such as this, however precocious, are, of course simply
ridiculous, and we are not astonished to find fun being made of them.
Says the _Morning Post_, October 21, 1805: “A young Lady was the other
day presented by her nurse and mamma to one of our managers for an
engagement. She came recommended by the testimony of an _amateur_, that
she was a capital representative of the _Widow Belmour_. The manager,
after looking at her from head to foot, exclaimed, ‘But how old is
Miss?’ ‘Seven years old, sir, next Lammas,’ answered the nurse, ‘bless
her pretty face.’ ‘Oh! Mrs. Nurse,’ replies the manager, gravely,
‘_too old, too old_; nothing above _five years_ will now do for _Widow
Belmour_.’”
Old playgoers had not quite lost all their wits, although they had
been somewhat crazy on the subject of young Roscius; but he was then
fourteen, whilst this baby was only seven. However, the _Phenomenon_
appeared, and duly collapsed, the story of which I should spoil did
I not give it in the original. Here it is, as a warning to ambitious
_débutantes_—_Morning Post_, November 25, 1805:
“COVENT GARDEN. The play of the _Country Girl_ was announced at this
house, on Saturday evening, for the purpose of introducing to a London
audience, a very young lady, a Miss MUDIE, in the character of Miss
_Peggy_. Miss Mudie has played, as it has been reported, but we doubt
the truth of the report, with great success at Dublin, Liverpool,
Birmingham, &c., where she has been applauded and followed nearly as
much as Master BETTY. The people of London seem to have been aware
that these reports were unfounded, for no great degree of curiosity
prevailed to see her on Saturday.
“The audience received this child very favourably on her entrance.
She is said to be ten years of age, but in size she does not look
to be more than five. She is extremely diminutive, and has not the
plump, comely countenance of an infant: her nose is very short; her
eyes not well placed; she either wants several teeth, or is, perhaps,
shedding them; and she speaks very inarticulately. It was difficult to
understand what she said. When she attempts expression of countenance,
her features contract about the nose, and eyes, in a way that gives
reason to suppose she is older than her person denotes. She seems to
have a young body with an old head.
“In the first passages of her part, she appeared to give some
satisfaction, and was loudly applauded; an indulgent audience wishing,
no doubt, to encourage her to display her full powers; but when she was
talked of as a wife, as a mistress, and an object of love, the scene
became so ridiculous that hissing and horse laughing ensued. She made
her _début_ before Miss BRUNTON, a tall, elegant, beautiful woman, and
looked in size just as if Miss BRUNTON’S fan had been walking in before
her; Miss MUDIE the married woman, and Miss BRUNTON the maiden! When
she was with her husband, Mr. MURRAY, no very tall man, she did not
reach higher than his knee, and he was obliged to stoop even to lay his
hand upon her head, and bend himself down double to kiss her; when she
had to lay hold of his neckcloth to coax him, and pat his cheeck, he
was obliged to stoop down all fours that she might reach him! The whole
effect was so out of nature, so ludicrous, that the audience very soon
decided against Miss Mudie. At first they did not hiss when she was on
the stage, from delicacy; but, in her absence, hissed the performance,
to stop the play, if possible. But as she persevered confidently they
hissed her, and at last called vehemently, _Off! off!_ Miss Mudie was
not, however, without a strong party to support her; but the noise
increased to that degree in the latter scenes that not a word could be
heard, on which Miss Mudie walked to the front of the stage with great
confidence and composure, not without some signs of indignation, and
said:
“‘LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,
“‘I know nothing I have done to offend you, and has set (_sic_) those
who are sent here to hiss me; I will be very much obliged to you to
turn them out.’
“This speech, which, no doubt had been very imprudently put into the
infant’s mouth, astonished the audience; some roared out with laughter,
some hissed, others called _Off! off!_ and many applauded. Miss Mudie
did not appear to be in the slightest degree chagrined or embarrassed,
and she went through the scene with as much glee as if she had been
completely successful. At the end of it the uproar was considerable,
and a loud cry arising of _Manager! Manager!_ Mr. KEMBLE came forward.
In substance he said:
“‘LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,
“‘Miss Mudie having performed at various provincial theatres with great
success, her friends thought themselves authorised in presenting her
before you. It is the duty, and the wish, of the proprietors of this
House to please you; and to fulfil both, was their aim in bringing
forward Miss Mudie. ‘The Drama’s laws, the Drama’s patrons give’—Miss
Mudie intends to withdraw herself from the stage; but I entreat you to
hear her through the remainder of her part.’”
She came on the stage again, but the audience would not listen to
her, and Miss Searle had to finish her part. What became of this
self-possessed child I know not; according to the _Morning Post_, April
5, 1806, she joined a children’s troupe in Leicester Place, where,
“though deservedly discountenanced at a great theatre, she will, no
doubt, prove an acquisition to the infant establishment.”
Late in the last century, the literary and theatrical world had been
thrown into a state of high excitement, by the announcement of the
discovery of an original play by Shakespeare, called “Vortigern and
Rowena,” which was acted at Drury Lane, and condemned, as spurious,
the first night; but belief in it lasted for some time, and the
question was of such importance, that the _Morning Post_, in 1802, took
the suffrages of the fashionable world, as to its authenticity. The
question was set at rest in 1805 by the forger himself, one William
Henry Ireland, who had the audacity to publish a book[56] in which
he unblushingly details all his forgeries, and his method of doing
them. It is an amusing volume, and has recently been utilized by a
novelist.[57] The absolute forgeries are still in existence, including
the pseudo-lock of Shakespeare’s hair; and they changed owners some few
years since, when they were sold by auction at very low prices.
There was a great fatality among theatres; there were but few of them,
and they were continually being burnt down. The Opera House in 1789;
The Pantheon 1792; Astley’s Amphitheatre, September 17, 1794. This
theatre was unlucky. It again fell a victim to the flames, September
1, 1803; and Astley, on this occasion, seems to have met with an
accident—_Times_, September 7, 1803: “Fortunately for Mr. Astley,
almost the whole of his plate was at Lower Esher, from which place he
reached the Amphitheatre in one hour and a quarter. It was not till
he came to Vauxhall that his horse fell; the same presentiment which
foreran the former conflagration of his property, the moment he heard
the gate bell ring, he exclaimed to Mrs. Astley, ‘They come to tell me
that the Theatre is on fire.’”
The Surrey Theatre, or, as it was then called, the Royal Circus, was
destroyed by fire August 12, 1805; and Covent Garden was burnt down
September 20, 1808—the fire being supposed to have been caused by a
piece of wadding from a gun fired during the performance of Pizarro. It
was, of course, a tremendous conflagration, and unfortunately resulted
in loss of life, besides the loss of many original scores of Handel,
Arne, and other eminent composers, together with Handel’s organ.
Plans for a new theatre were soon got out, and Mr. Smirke (afterwards
Sir Robert, to whom we owe the beautiful British Museum, and the
General Post Office) was the architect. The first stone was laid, with
much Masonic pomp, on the 31st of December, 1808, by the Prince of
Wales, the Duke of Sussex, and a distinguished circle of guests, being
present. The weather was unpropitious, but immense crowds of people
were present; and it is curious to learn, as showing the defective
police of the time, that “The Horse Guards patrolled the streets, and
several of the Volunteer Corps did duty on the occasion.”
Within two months from the above date, Drury Lane Theatre was totally
destroyed by fire. On the 24th of February, about 11 p.m., it was
discovered, and it did not take long before the whole was in a blaze;
not for want of precautions, for it seems they had adopted the best
accepted preventitives of a great theatrical conflagration known to
modern architects, viz., an iron curtain, and a huge reservoir of
water on the top of the building—the latter being described as “a
mere bucket full to the volume of fire on which it fell, and had no
visible effect in damping it,” which may be comforting for modern
playgoers to remember. Nor was it long in burning; by 5 a.m. “the
flames were completely subdued”—that is, there was nothing left to
burn. Very little was saved, only a bureau and some looking-glasses,
from Mrs. Jordan’s dressing-room, and the “Treasury” books and some
papers. Sheridan took his loss, outwardly, with great _sang froid_,
one anecdote affirming that, on a remark being made to him that it was
a wonder he could bear to witness the destruction of his property, he
replied, “Why! where can a man warm himself better than at his own
fire-side?” However, by his energy, he soon found temporary premises
for his company, and, having obtained a special license from the Lord
Chamberlain, he took the Lyceum and opened it on the 25th of September,
or, within a week of the fire.
[Illustration]