MORE PLAYS--MARRIAGE--THE LICENSING ACT.
The very subordinate part in the _Miser_ of "Furnish, an Upholsterer,"
was taken by a third-rate actor, whose surname has been productive of no
little misconception among Henry Fielding's biographers. This was
Timothy Fielding, sometime member of the Haymarket and Drury Lane
companies, and proprietor, for several successive years, of a booth at
Bartholomew, Southwark, and other fairs. In the absence of any Christian
name, Mr. Lawrence seems to have rather rashly concluded that the
Fielding mentioned by Genest as having a booth at Bartholomew Fair in
1733 with Hippisley (the original Peachum of the _Beggar's Opera_), was
Fielding the dramatist; and the mistake thus originated at once began
that prosperous course which usually awaits any slip of the kind. It
misled one notoriously careful inquirer, who, in his interesting
chronicles of Bartholomew Fair, minutely investigated the actor's
history, giving precise details of his doings at "Bartlemy" from 1728 to
1736; but, although the theory involved obvious inconsistencies,
apparently without any suspicion that the proprietor of the booth which
stood, season after season, in the yard of the George Inn at Smithfield,
was an entirely different person from his greater namesake. The late Dr.
Rimbault carried the story farther still, and attempted to show, in
_Notes and Queries_ for May 1859, that Henry Fielding had a booth at
Tottenham Court in 1738, "subsequent to his admission into the Middle
Temple;" and he also promised to supply additional particulars to the
effect that even 1738 was not the "_last_ year of Fielding's career as a
booth-proprietor." At this stage (probably for good reasons) inquiry
seems to have slumbered, although, with the fatal vitality of error, the
statement continued (and still continues) to be repeated in various
quarters. In 1875, however, Mr. Frederick Latreille published a short
article in _Notes and Queries_, proving conclusively, by extracts from
contemporary newspapers and other sources, that the Timothy Fielding
above referred to was the real Fielding of the fairs; that he became
landlord of the Buffalo Tavern "at the corner of Bloomsbury Square" in
1733; and that he died in August 1738, his christian name, so often
suppressed, being duly recorded in the register of the neighbouring
church of St. George's, where he was buried. The admirers of our great
novelist owe Mr. Latreille a debt of gratitude for this opportune
discovery. It is true that a certain element of Bohemian picturesqueness
is lost to Henry Fielding's life, already not very rich in recorded
incident; and it would certainly have been curious if he, who ended his
days in trying to dignify the judicial office, should have begun life by
acting the part of a "trading justice," namely that of Quorum in
Coffey's _Beggar's Wedding_, which Timothy Fielding had played at Drury
Lane. But, on the whole, it is satisfactory to know that his early
experiences did not, of necessity, include those of a strolling player.
Some obscure and temporary connection with Bartholomew Fair he may have
had, as Smollett, in the scurrilous pamphlet issued in 1742, makes him
say that he blew a trumpet there in quality of herald to a collection of
wild beasts; but this is probably no more than an earlier and uglier
form of the apparition laid by Mr. Latreille. The only positive evidence
of any connection between Henry Fielding and the Smithfield carnival is,
that Theophilus Cibber's company played the _Miser_ at their booth in
August 1733.
With the exception of the _Miser_ and an afterpiece, never printed,
entitled _Deborah; or, A Wife for you all_, which was acted for Miss
Raftor's benefit in April 1733, nothing important was brought upon the
stage by Fielding until January of the following year, when he produced
the _Intriguing Chambermaid_, and a revised version of the _Author's
Farce_. By a succession of changes, which it is impossible here to
describe in detail, considerable alterations had taken place in the
management of Drury Lane. In the first place, Wilks was dead, and his
share in the Patent was represented by his widow. Booth also was dead,
and Mrs. Booth had sold her share to Giffard of Goodman's Fields, while
the elder Cibber had retired. At the beginning of the season of 1733-34
the leading patentee was an amateur called Highmore, who had purchased
Cibber's share. He had also purchased part of Booth's share before his
death in May 1733. The only other shareholder of importance was Mrs.
Wilks. Shortly after the opening of the theatre in September, the
greater part of the Drury Lane Company, led by the younger Cibber,
revolted from Highmore and Mrs. Wilks, and set up for themselves.
Matters were farther complicated by the fact that John Rich had not long
opened a new theatre in Covent Garden, which constituted a fresh
attraction; and that what Fielding called the "wanton affected Fondness
for foreign Musick," was making the Italian opera a dangerous rival--the
more so as it was patronised by the nobility. Without actors, the
patentees were in serious case. Miss Raftor, who about this time became
Mrs. Clive, appears, however, to have remained faithful to them, as also
did Henry Fielding. The lively little comedy of the _Intriguing
Chambermaid_ was adapted from Regnard especially for her; and in its
published form was preceded by an epistle in which the dramatist dwells
upon the "Factions and Divisions among the Players," and compliments her
upon her compassionate adherence to Mr. Highmore and Mrs. Wilks in their
time of need. The epistle is also valuable for its warm and generous
testimony to the private character of this accomplished actress, whose
part in real life, says Fielding, was that of "the best Wife, the best
Daughter, the best Sister, and the best Friend." The words are more than
mere compliment; they appear to have been true. Madcap and humourist as
she was, no breath of slander seems ever to have tarnished the
reputation of Kitty Clive, whom Johnson--a fine judge, when his
prejudices were not actively aroused--called in addition "the best
player that he ever saw."
The _Intriguing Chambermaid_ was produced on the 15th of January 1734.
Lettice, from whom the piece was named, was well personated by Mrs.
Clive, and Colonel Bluff by Macklin, the only actor of any promise that
Highmore had been able to secure. With the new comedy the _Author's
Farce_ was revived. It would be unnecessary to refer to this again, but
for the additions that were made to it. These consisted chiefly in the
substitution of Marplay Junior for Sparkish, the actor-manager of the
first version. The death of Wilks may have been a reason for this
alteration; but a stronger was no doubt the desire to throw ridicule
upon Theophilus Cibber, whose behaviour in deserting Drury Lane
immediately after his father had sold his share to Highmore had not
passed without censure, nor had his father's action escaped sarcastic
comment. Theophilus Cibber--whose best part was Beaumont and Fletcher's
Copper Captain, and who carried the impersonation into private life, had
played in several of Fielding's pieces; but Fielding had linked his
fortunes to those of the patentees, and was consequently against the
players in this quarrel. The following scene was accordingly added to
the farce for the exclusive benefit of "Young Marplay":--
"_Marplay junior._ Mr. _Luckless_, I kiss your Hands--Sir, I am your
most obedient humble Servant; you see, Mr. _Luckless_, what Power you
have over me. I attend your Commands, tho' several Persons of Quality
have staid at Court for me above this Hour.
_Luckless._ I am obliged to you--I have a Tragedy for your House, Mr.
_Marplay_.
_Mar. jun._ Ha! if you will send it me, I will give you my Opinion of
it; and if I can make any Alterations in it that will be for its
Advantage, I will do it freely.
_Witmore._ Alterations, Sir?
_Mar. jun._ Yes, Sir, Alterations--I will maintain it, let a Play be
never so good, without Alteration it will do nothing.
_Wit._ Very odd indeed.
_Mar. jun._ Did you ever write, Sir?
_Wit._ No, Sir, I thank Heav'n.
_Mar. jun._ Oh! your humble Servant--your very humble Servant, Sir. When
you write yourself you will find the Necessity of Alterations. Why, Sir,
wou'd you guess that I had alter'd _Shakespear_?
_Wit._ Yes, faith, Sir, no one sooner.
_Mar. jun._ Alack-a-day! Was you to see the Plays when they are brought
to us--a Parcel of crude, undigested Stuff. We are the Persons, Sir, who
lick them into Form, that mould them into Shape--The Poet make the Play
indeed! The Colour-man might be as well said to make the Picture, or the
Weaver the Coat: My Father and I, Sir, are a Couple of poetical Tailors;
when a Play is brought us, we consider it as a Tailor does his Coat, we
cut it, Sir, we cut it: And let me tell you, we have the exact Measure
of the Town, we know how to fit their Taste. The Poets, between you and
me, are a Pack of ignorant--
_Wit._ Hold, hold, sir. This is not quite so civil to Mr. _Luckless_:
Besides, as I take it, you have done the Town the Honour of writing
yourself.
_Mar. jun._ Sir, you are a Man of Sense; and express yourself well. I
did, as you say, once make a small Sally into _Parnassus_, took a sort
of flying Leap over _Helicon_: But if ever they catch me there again--
Sir, the Town have a Prejudice to my Family; for if any Play you'd have
made them ashamed to damn it, mine must. It was all over Plot. It wou'd
have made half a dozen Novels: Nor was it cram'd with a pack of Wit-
traps, like _Congreve_ and _Wycherly_, where every one knows when the
Joke was coming. I defy the sharpest Critick of 'em all to know when any
Jokes of mine were coming. The Dialogue was plain, easy, and natural,
and not one single Joke in it from the Beginning to the End: Besides,
Sir, there was one Scene of tender melancholy Conversation, enough to
have melted a Heart of Stone; and yet they damn'd it: And they damn'd
themselves; for they shall have no more of mine.
_Wit._ Take pity on the Town, Sir.
_Mar. jun._ I! No, Sir, no. I'll write no more. No more; unless I am
forc'd to it.
_Luckless._ That's no easy thing, _Marplay_.
_Mar. jun._ Yes, Sir. Odes, Odes, a Man may be oblig'd to write those
you know." These concluding lines plainly refer to the elder Cibber's
appointment as Laureate in 1730, and to those "annual Birth-day
Strains," with which he so long delighted the irreverent; while the
alteration of Shakespeare and the cobbling of plays generally, satirised
again in a later scene, are strictly in accordance with contemporary
accounts of the manners and customs of the two dictators of Drury Lane.
The piece indicated by Marplay Junior was probably Theophilus Cibber's
_Lover_, which had been produced in January 1731 with very moderate
success.
After the _Intriguing Chambermaid_ and the revived _Author's Farce_,
Fielding seems to have made farther exertions for "the distressed Actors
in Drury Lane." He had always been an admirer of Cervantes, frequent
references to whose master-work are to be found scattered through his
plays; and he now busied himself with completing and expanding the loose
scenes of the comedy of _Don Quixote in England_, which (as before
stated) he had sketched at Leyden for his own diversion. He had already
thought of bringing it upon the stage, but had been dissuaded from doing
so by Cibber and Booth, who regarded it as wanting in novelty. Now,
however, he strengthened it by the addition of some election scenes, in
which--he tells Lord Chesterfield in the dedication--he designed to give
a lively representation of "the Calamities brought on a Country by
general Corruption;" and it was duly rehearsed. But unexpected delays
took place in its production; the revolted players returned to Drury
Lane; and, lest the actors' benefits should further retard its
appearance by postponing it until the winter season, Fielding
transferred it to the Haymarket, where, according to Geneste, it was
acted in April 1734. As a play, _Don Quixote in England_ has few stage
qualities and no plot to speak of. But the Don with his whimsies, and
Sancho with his appetite and string of proverbs, are conceived in
something of the spirit of Cervantes. Squire Badger, too, a rudimentary
Squire Western, well represented by Macklin, is vigorously drawn; and
the song of his huntsman Scut, beginning with the fine line "The dusky
Night rides down the Sky," has a verse that recalls a practice of which
Addison accuses Sir Roger de Coverley:--
_"A brushing Fox in yonder Wood,
Secure to find we seek;
For why, I carry'd sound and good,
A Cartload there last Week._
And a Hunting we will go."
The election scenes, though but slightly attached to the main story, are
keenly satirical, and considering that Hogarth's famous series of
kindred prints belongs to a much later date, must certainly have been
novel, as may be gathered from the following little colloquy between Mr.
Mayor and Messrs. Guzzle and Retail:--
"_Mayor_ (_to Retail_) ....I like an Opposition, because otherwise a Man
may be oblig'd to vote against his Party; therefore when we invite a
Gentleman to stand, we invite him to spend his Money for the Honour of
his Party; and when both Parties have spent as much as they are able,
every honest Man will vote according to his Conscience.
_Guz._ Mr. Mayor talks like a Man of Sense and Honour, and it does me
good to hear him.
_May._ Ay, ay, Mr. _Guzzle_, I never gave a Vote contrary to my
Conscience. I have very earnestly recommended the Country-Interest to
all my Brethren: But before that, I recommended the Town-Interest, that
is, the interest of this Corporation; and first of all I recommended to
every particular Man to take a particular Care of himself. And it is
with a certain way of Reasoning, That he who serves me best, will serve
the Town best; and he that serves the Town best, will serve the Country
best."
In the January and February of 1735 Fielding produced two more pieces at
Drury Lane, a farce and a five-act comedy. The farce--a lively trifle
enough--was _An Old Man taught Wisdom_, a title subsequently changed to
the _Virgin Unmasked_. It was obviously written to display the talents
of Mrs. Clive, who played in it her favourite character of a hoyden,
and, after "interviewing" a number of suitors chosen by her father,
finally ran away with Thomas the footman--a course in those days not
without its parallel in high life, above stairs as well as below. It
appears to have succeeded, though Bookish, one of the characters, was
entirely withdrawn in deference to some disapprobation on the part of
the audience; while the part of Wormwood, a lawyer, which is found in
the latest editions, is said to have been "omitted in representation."
The comedy, entitled _The Universal Gallant_; or, _The different
Husbands_, was scarcely so fortunate. Notwithstanding that Quin, who,
after an absence of many years, had returned to Drury Lane, played a
leading part, and that Theophilus Cibber in the hero, Captain Smart,
seems to have been fitted with a character exactly suited to his talents
and idiosyncrasy, the play ran no more than three nights. Till the third
act was almost over, "the _Audience_," says the _Prompter_ (as quoted by
"Sylvanus Urban"), "sat quiet, in hopes it would mend, till finding it
grew _worse_ and _worse_, they lost all Patience, and not an
_Expression_ or _Sentiment_ afterwards pass'd without its deserved
_Censure_." Perhaps it is not to be wondered at that the author--"the
prolifick _Mr. Fielding_," as the _Prompter_ calls him, attributed its
condemnation to causes other than its lack of interest. In his
_Advertisement_ he openly complains of the "cruel Usage" his "poor Play"
had met with, and of the barbarity of the young men about town who made
"a Jest of damning Plays"--a pastime which, whether it prevailed in this
case or not, no doubt existed, as Sarah Fielding afterwards refers to it
in _David Simple_. If an author--he goes on to say--"be so unfortunate
[_as_] to depend on the success of his Labours for his Bread, he must be
an inhuman Creature indeed, who would out of sport and wantonness
prevent a Man from getting a Livelihood in an honest and inoffensive
Way, and make a jest of starving him and his Family." The plea is a good
one if the play is good; but if not, it is worthless. In this respect
the public are like the French Cardinal in the story; and when the
famished writer's work fails to entertain them, they are fully justified
in doubting his _raison d'etre_. There is no reason for supposing that
the _Universal Gallant_ deserved a better fate than it met with.
Judging from the time which elapsed between the production of this play
and that of _Pasquin_ (Fielding's next theatrical venture), it has been
conjectured that the interval was occupied by his marriage, and brief
experience as a Dorsetshire country gentleman. The exact date of his
marriage is not known, though it is generally assumed to have taken
place in the beginning of 1735. But it may well have been earlier, for
it will be observed that in the above quotation from the Preface to the
_Universal Gallant_, which is dated from "Buckingham Street, Feb. 12,"
he indirectly speaks of "his family." This, it is true, may be no more
than the pious fraud of a bachelor; but if it be taken literally, we
must conclude that his marriage was already so far a thing of the past
that he was already a father. This supposition would account for the
absence of any record of the birth of a child during his forthcoming
residence at East Stour, by the explanation that it had already happened
in London; and it is not impossible that the entry of the marriage, too,
may be hidden away in some obscure Metropolitan parish register, since
those of Salisbury have been fruitlessly searched. At this distance of
time, however, speculation is fruitless; and, in default of more
definite information, the "spring of 1735," which Keightley gives, must
be accepted as the probable date of the marriage.
Concerning the lady, the particulars are more precise. She was a Miss
Charlotte Cradock, one of three sisters living upon their own means at
Salisbury, or--as it was then styled--New Sarum. Mr. Keightley's
personal inquiries, _circa_ 1858, elicited the information that the
family, now extinct, was highly respectable, but not of New Sarum's best
society. Richardson, in one of his malevolent outbursts, asserted that
the sisters were illegitimate; but, says the writer above referred to,
"of this circumstance we have no other proof, and I am able to add that
the tradition of Salisbury knows nothing of it."
They were, however, celebrated for their personal attractions; and if
the picture given in chap. ii. book iv. of _Tom Jones_ accurately
represents the first Mrs. Fielding, she must have been a most charming
brunette. Something of the stereotyped characteristics of a novelist's
heroine obviously enter into the description; but the luxuriant black
hair, which, cut "to comply with the modern Fashion," "curled so
gracefully in her Neck," the lustrous eyes, the dimple in the right
cheek, the chin rather full than small, and the complexion having "more
of the Lilly than of the Rose," but flushing with exercise or modesty,
are, doubtless, accurately set down. In speaking of the nose as "exactly
regular," Fielding appears to have deviated slightly from the truth; for
we learn from Lady Louisa Stuart that, in this respect, Miss Cradock's
appearance had "suffered a little" from an accident mentioned in book
ii. of _Amelia_, the overturning of a chaise. Whether she also possessed
the mental qualities and accomplishments which fell to the lot of Sophia
Western, we have no means of determining; but Lady Stuart is again our
authority for saying that she was as amiable as she was handsome.
From the love-poems in the first volume of the _Miscellanies_ of 1743--
poems which their author declares to have been "Productions of the Heart
rather than of the Head"--it is clear that Fielding had been attached to
his future wife for several years previous to 1735. One of them, _Advice
to the Nymphs of New S----m_, celebrates the charms of Celia--the
poetical equivalent for Charlotte--as early as 1730; another, containing
a reference to the player Anthony Boheme, who died in 1731, was probably
written at the same time; while a third, in which, upon the special
intervention of Jove himself, the prize of beauty is decreed by Venus to
the Salisbury sisters, may be of an earlier date than any. The year 1730
was the year of his third piece, the _Author's Farce_, and he must
therefore have been paying his addresses to Miss Cradock not very long
after his arrival in London. This is a fact to be borne in mind. So
early an attachment to a good and beautiful girl, living no farther off
than Salisbury, where his own father probably resided, is scarcely
consistent with the reckless dissipation which has been laid to his
charge, although, on his own showing, he was by no means faultless. But
it is a part of natures like his to exaggerate their errors in the
moment of repentance; and it may well be that Henry Fielding, too, was
not so black as he painted himself. Of his love-verses he says--"this
Branch of Writing is what I very little pretend to;" and it would be
misleading to rate them highly, for, unlike his literary descendant, Mr.
Thackeray, he never attained to any special quality of note. But some of
his octosyllabics, if they cannot be called equal to Prior's, fall
little below Swift's. "I hate"--cries he in one of the pieces,
"I hate the Town, and all its Ways;
Ridotto's, Opera's, and Plays;
The Ball, the King, the Mall, the Court;
Wherever the Beau-Monde resort....
All Coffee-Houses, and their Praters;
All Courts of Justice, and Debaters;
All Taverns, and the Sots within 'em;
All Bubbles, and the Rogues that skin 'em,"
--and so forth, the natural anti-climax being that he loves nothing but
his "Charmer" at Salisbury. In another, which is headed _To Celia--
Occasioned by her apprehending her House would be broke open, and having
an old Fellow to guard it, who sat up all Night, with a Gun without any
Ammunition_, and from which it has been concluded that the Miss Cradocks
were their own landlords, Venus chides Cupid for neglecting to guard her
favourite:--
"'Come tell me, Urchin, tell no lies;
Where was you hid, in _Vince's_ eyes?
Did you fair _Bennet's_ Breast importune?
(I know you dearly love a Fortune.)'
Poor _Cupid_ now began to whine;
'Mamma, it was no Fault of mine.
I in a Dimple lay _perdue_,
That little Guard-Room chose by you.
A hundred Loves (all arm'd) did grace
The Beauties of her Neck and Face;
Thence, by a Sigh I dispossest,
Was blown to _Harry Fielding's_ Breast;
Where I was forc'd all Night to stay,
Because I could not find my Way.
But did Mamma know there what Work
I've made, how acted like a Turk;
What Pains, what Torment he endures,
Which no Physician ever cures,
She would forgive.' The Goddess smil'd,
And gently chuck'd her wicked Child,
Bid him go back, and take more Care,
And give her Service to the Fair."
Swift, in his _Rhapsody on Poetry_, 1733, coupled Fielding with Leonard
Welsted as an instance of sinking in verse. But the foregoing, which he
could not have seen, is scarcely, if at all, inferior to his own
_Birthday Poems to Stella_. [Footnote: Swift afterwards substituted "the
laureate [Cibber]" for "Fielding," and appears to have changed his mind
as to the latter's merits. "I can assure Mr. _Fielding_," says Mrs.
Pilkington in the third and last volume of her _Memoirs_ (1754), "the
Dean had a high opinion of his Wit, which must be a Pleasure to him, as
no Man was ever better qualified to judge, possessing it so eminently
himself."]
The history of Fielding's marriage rests so exclusively upon the
statements of Arthur Murphy that it will be well to quote his words in
full:--
"Mr. Fielding had not been long a writer for the stage, when he married
Miss Craddock [_sic_], a beauty from Salisbury. About that time, his
mother dying, a moderate estate, at Stower in Dorsetshire, devolved to
him. To that place he retired with his wife, on whom he doated, with a
resolution to bid adieu to all the follies and intemperances to which he
had addicted himself in the career of a town-life. But unfortunately a
kind of family-pride here gained an ascendant over him; and he began
immediately to vie in splendour with the neighbouring country 'squires.
With an estate not much above two hundred pounds a-year, and his wife's
fortune, which did not exceed fifteen hundred pounds, he encumbered
himself with a large retinue of servants, all clad in costly yellow
liveries. For their master's honour, these people could not descend so
low as to be careful in their apparel, but, in a month or two, were
unfit to be seen; the 'squire's dignity required that they should be
new-equipped; and his chief pleasure consisting in society and convivial
mirth, hospitality threw open his doors, and, in less than three years,
entertainments, hounds, and horses, entirely devoured a little
patrimony, which, had it been managed with oeconomy, might have secured
to him a state of independence for the rest of his life, etc."
This passage, which has played a conspicuous part in all biographies of
Fielding, was very carefully sifted by Mr. Keightley, who came to the
conclusion that it was a "mere tissue of error and inconsistency."
[Footnote: Some of Mr. Keightley's criticisms were anticipated by
Watson.] Without going to this length, we must admit that it is
manifestly incorrect in many respects. If Fielding married in 1735
(though, as already pointed out, he may have married earlier, and
retired to the country upon the failure of the _Universal Gallant_), he
is certainly inaccurately described as "not having been long a _writer_
for the stage," since writing for the stage had been his chief
occupation for seven years. Then again his mother had died as far back
as April 10, 1718, when he was a boy of eleven; and if he had inherited
anything from her, he had probably been in the enjoyment of it ever
since he came of age. Furthermore, the statement as to "three years" is
at variance with the fact that, according to the dedication to the
_Universal Gallant_, he was still in London in February 1735, and was
back again managing the Haymarket in the first months of 1736. Murphy,
however, may only mean that the "estate" at East Stour was in his
possession for three years. Mr. Keightley's other points--namely, that
the "tolerably respectable farm-house," in which he is supposed to have
lived, was scarcely adapted to "splendid entertainments," or "a large
retinue of servants;" and that, to be in strict accordance with the
family arms, the liveries should have been not "yellow," but white and
blue--must be taken for what they are worth. On the whole, the
probability is, that Murphy's words were only the careless repetition of
local tittle-tattle, of much of which, as Captain Booth says pertinently
in _Amelia_, "the only basis is lying." The squires of the neighbourhood
would naturally regard the dashing young gentleman from London with the
same distrustful hostility that Addison's "Tory Foxhunter" exhibited to
those who differed with him in politics. It would be remembered,
besides, that the new-comer was the son of another and an earlier
Fielding of less pretensions, and no real cordiality could ever have
existed between them. Indeed, it may be assumed that this was the case,
for Booth's account of the opposition and ridicule which he--"a poor
renter!"--encountered when he enlarged his farm and set up his coach has
a distinct personal accent. That he was lavish, and lived beyond his
means, is quite in accordance with his character. The man who, as a Bow
Street magistrate, kept open house on a pittance, was not likely to be
less lavish as a country gentleman, with L1500 in his pocket, and newly
married to a young and handsome wife. "He would have wanted money," said
Lady Mary, "if his hereditary lands had been as extensive as his
imagination;" and there can be little doubt that the rafters of the old
farm by the Stour, with the great locust tree at the back, which is
figured in Hutchins's _History of Dorset_, rang often to hunting
choruses, and that not seldom the "dusky Night rode down the Sky" over
the prostrate forms of Harry Fielding's guests. [Footnote: An
interesting relic of the East Stour residence has recently been
presented by Mr. Merthyr Guest (through Mr. R. A. Kinglake) to the
Somersetshire Archaeological Society. It is an oak table of solid
proportions, and bears on a brass plate the following inscription,
emanating from a former owner:--"This table belonged to Henry Fielding,
Esq., novelist. He hunted from East Stour Farm, 1718, and in three years
dissipated his fortune keeping hounds." In 1718, it may be observed,
Fielding was a boy of eleven. Probably the whole of the latter sentence
is nothing more than a distortion of Murphy.] But even L1500, and (in
spite of Murphy) it is by no means clear that he had anything more,
could scarcely last for ever. Whether his footmen wore yellow or not, a
few brief months found him again in town. That he was able to rent a
theatre may perhaps be accepted as proof that his profuse hospitalities
had not completely exhausted his means.
The moment was a favourable one for a fresh theatrical experiment. The
stage-world was split up into factions, the players were disorganised,
and everything seemed in confusion. Whether Fielding himself conceived
the idea of making capital out of this state of things, or whether it
was suggested to him by some of the company who had acted _Don Quixote
in England_, it is impossible to say. In the first months of 1736,
however, he took the little French Theatre in the Haymarket, and opened
it with a company which he christened the "Great Mogul's Company of
Comedians," who were further described as "having dropped from the
Clouds." The "Great Mogul" was a name sometimes given by playwrights to
the elder Cibber; but there is no reason for supposing that any allusion
to him was intended on this occasion. The company, with the exception of
Macklin, who was playing at Drury Lane, consisted chiefly of the actors
in _Don Quixote in England_; and the first piece was entitled _Pasquin:
a Dramatick Satire on the Times: being the Rehearsal of Two Plays, viz.
a Comedy call'd the Election, and a Tragedy call'd the Life and Death of
Common-Sense_. The form of this work, which belongs to the same class as
Sheridan's _Critic_ and Buckingham's _Rehearsal_, was probably
determined by Fielding's past experience of the public taste. His latest
comedy had failed, and its predecessors had not been very successful.
But his burlesques had met with a better reception, while the election
episodes in _Don Quixote_ had seemed to disclose a fresh field for the
satire of contemporary manners. And in the satire of contemporary
manners he felt his strength lay. The success of _Pasquin_ proved he had
not miscalculated, for it ran more than forty nights, drawing, if we may
believe the unknown author of the life of Theophilus Cibber, numerous
and enthusiastic audiences "from _Grosvenor, Cavendish, Hanover_, and
all the other fashionable Squares, as also from _Pall Mall_, and the
_Inns of Court_."
In regard to plot, the comedy which _Pasquin_ contains scarcely deserves
the name. It consists of a string of loosely-connected scenes, which
depict the shameless political corruption of the Walpole era with a good
deal of boldness and humour. The sole difference between the "Court
party," represented by two Candidates with the Bunyan-like names of Lord
Place and Colonel Promise, and the "Country party," whose nominees are
Sir Harry Fox-Chace and Squire Tankard, is that the former bribe openly,
the latter indirectly. The Mayor, whose sympathies are with the "Country
party" is finally induced by his wife to vote for and return the other
side, although they are in a minority; and the play is concluded by the
precipitate marriage of his daughter with Colonel Promise. Mr. Fustian,
the Tragic Author, who, with Mr. Sneerwell the Critic, is one of the
spectators of the rehearsal, demurs to the abruptness with which this
ingenious catastrophe is brought about, and inquires where the
preliminary action, of which there is not the slightest evidence in the
piece itself, has taken place. Thereupon Trapwit, the Comic Author,
replies as follows, in one of those passages which show that, whatever
Fielding's dramatic limitations may have been, he was at least a keen
critic of stage practice:--
"_Trapwit._ Why, behind the Scenes, Sir. What, would you have every
Thing brought upon the Stage? I intend to bring ours to the Dignity of
the _French_ Stage; and I have _Horace's_ Advice of my Side; we have
many Things both said and done in our Comedies, which might be better
perform'd behind the Scenes: The _French_, you know, banish all Cruelty
from their Stage; and I don't see why we should bring on a Lady in ours,
practising all manner of Cruelty upon her Lover: beside, Sir, we do not
only produce it, but encourage it; for I could name you some Comedies,
if I would, where a Woman is brought in for four Acts together, behaving
to a worthy Man in a Manner for which she almost deserves to be hang'd;
and in the Fifth, forsooth, she is rewarded with him for a Husband: Now,
Sir, as I know this hits some Tastes, and am willing to oblige all, I
have given every Lady a Latitude of thinking mine has behaved in
whatever Manner she would have her."
The part of Lord Place in the _Election_, after the first few nights,
was taken by Cibber's daughter, the notorious Mrs. Charlotte Charke,
whose extraordinary Memoirs are among the curiosities of eighteenth-
century literature, and whose experiences were as varied as those of any
character in fiction. She does not seem to have acted in the _Life and
Death of Common-Sense_, the rehearsal of which followed that of the
_Election_. This is a burlesque of the _Tom Thumb_ type, much of which
is written in vigorous blank verse. Queen Common-Sense is conspired
against by Firebrand, Priest of the Sun, by Law, and by Physic. Law is
incensed because she has endeavoured to make his piebald jargon
intelligible; Physic because she has preferred Water Gruel to all his
drugs; and Firebrand because she would restrain the power of Priests.
Some of the strokes must have gone home to those receptive hearers who,
as one contemporary account informs us, "were dull enough not only to
think they contain'd Wit and Humour, but Truth also":--
"_Queen Common-Sense._ My Lord of _Law_, I sent for you
this Morning;
I have a strange Petition given to me;
Two Men, it seems, have lately been at Law
For an Estate, which both of them have lost,
And their Attorneys now divide between them.
_Law._ Madam, these things will happen in the Law.
_Q. C. S._ Will they, my Lord? then better we had none:
But I have also heard a sweet Bird sing,
That Men, unable to discharge their Debts
At a short Warning, being sued for them,
Have, with both Power and Will their Debts to pay
Lain all their Lives in Prison for their Costs.
_Law._ That may perhaps be some poor Person's Case,
Too mean to entertain your Royal Ear.
_Q. C. S._ My Lord, while I am Queen I shall not think
One Man too mean, or poor, to be redress'd;
Moreover, Lord, I am inform'd your Laws
Are grown so large, and daily yet encrease,
That the great Age of old _Methusalem_
Would scarce suffice to read your Statutes out."
There is also much more than merely transitory satire in the speech of
"Firebrand" to the Queen:--
"_Firebrand._ Ha! do you doubt it? nay, if you doubt
that,
I will prove nothing--But my zeal inspires me,
And I will tell you, Madam, you yourself
Are a most deadly Enemy to the Sun,
And all his Priests have greatest Cause to wish
You had been never born.
_Q. C. S._ Ha! say'st thou, Priest?
Then know I honour and adore the Sun!
And when I see his Light, and feel his Warmth,
I glow with naming Gratitude toward him;
But know, I never will adore a Priest,
Who wears Pride's Face beneath Religion's Mask.
And makes a Pick-Lock of his Piety,
To steal away the Liberty of Mankind.
But while I live, I'll never give thee Power.
_Firebrand._ Madam, our Power is not deriv'd from you,
Nor any one: 'Twas sent us in a Box
From the great Sun himself, and Carriage paid;
_Phaeton_ brought it when he overturn'd
The Chariot of the Sun into the Sea.
_Q. C. S._ Shew me the Instrument, and let me read it.
_Fireb._ Madam, you cannot read it, for being thrown
Into the Sea, the Water has so damag'd it,
That none but Priests could ever read it since."
In the end, Firebrand stabs Common-Sense, but her Ghost frightens
Ignorance off the Stage, upon which Sneerwell says--"I am glad you make
_Common-Sense_ get the better at last; I was under terrible
Apprehensions for your Moral." "Faith, Sir," says Fustian, "this is
almost the only Play where she has got the better lately." And so the
piece closes. But it would be wrong to quit it without some reference to
the numberless little touches by which, throughout the whole, the
humours of dramatic life behind the scenes are ironically depicted. The
Comic Poet is arrested on his way from "_King's Coffee-House,_" and the
claim being "for upwards of Four Pound," it is at first supposed that
"he will hardly get Bail." He is subsequently inquired after by a
Gentlewoman in a Riding-Hood, whom he passes off as a Lady of Quality,
but who, in reality, is bringing him a clean shirt. There are
difficulties with one of the Ghosts, who has a "Church-yard Cough," and
"is so Lame he can hardly walk the Stage;" while another comes to
rehearsal without being properly floured, because the stage barber has
gone to Drury Lane "to shave the Sultan in the New Entertainment." On
the other hand, the Ghost of Queen Common-Sense appears before she is
killed, and is with some difficulty persuaded that her action is
premature. Part of "the Mob" play truant to see a show in the park; Law,
straying without the playhouse passage is snapped up by a Lord Chief-
Justice's Warrant; and a Jew carries off one of the Maids of Honour.
These little incidents, together with the unblushing realism of the Pots
of Porter that are made to do duty for wine, and the extra two-penny
worth of Lightning that is ordered against the first night, are all in
the spirit of that inimitable picture of the _Strolling Actresses
dressing in a Barn_, which Hogarth gave to the world two years later,
and which, very possibly, may have borrowed some of its inspiration from
Fielding's "dramatic satire."
There is every reason to suppose that the profits of _Pasquin_ were far
greater than those of any of its author's previous efforts. In a rare
contemporary caricature, preserved in the British Museum, [Footnote:
Political and Personal Satires, No. 2287.] the "Queen of Common-Sense"
is shown presenting "Henry Fielding, Esq.," with a well-filled purse,
while to "Harlequin" (John Rich of Covent Garden) she extends a halter;
and in some doggerel lines underneath, reference is made to the "show'rs
of Gold" resulting from the piece. This, of course, might be no more
than a poetical fiction; but Fielding himself attests the pecuniary
success of _Pasquin_ in the Dedication to _Tumble-Down Dick_, and Mrs.
Charke's statement in her Memoirs that her salary for acting the small
part of Lord Place was four guineas a week, "with an Indulgence in Point
of Charges at her Benefit" by which she cleared sixty guineas, certainly
points to a prosperous exchequer. Fielding's own benefit, as appears
from the curious ticket attributed to Hogarth and facsimiled by A. M.
Ireland, took place on April 25, but we have no record of the amount of
his gains. Mrs. Charke farther says that "soon after _Pasquin_ began to
droop," Fielding produced Lillo's _Fatal Curiosity_ in which she acted
Agnes. This tragedy, founded on a Cornish story, is one of remarkable
power and passion; but upon its first appearance it made little
impression, although in the succeeding year it was acted to greater
advantage in combination with another satirical medley by Fielding, the
_Historical Register for the Year_ 1736.
Like most sequels, the _Historical Register_ had neither the vogue nor
the wit of its predecessor. It was only half as long, and it was even
more disconnected in character. "Harmonious Cibber," as Swift calls him,
whose "preposterous Odes" had already been ridiculed in _Pasquin_ and
the _Author's Farce_, was once more brought on the stage as Ground-Ivy,
for his alterations of Shakespeare; and under the name of Pistol,
Theophilus Cibber is made to refer to the contention between his second
wife, Arne's sister, and Mrs. Clive, for the honour of playing "Polly"
in the _Beggar's Opera_, a play-house feud which at the latter end of
1736 had engaged "the Town" almost as seriously as the earlier rivalry
of Faustina and Cuzzoni. This continued raillery of the Cibbers is, as
Fielding himself seems to have felt, a "Jest a little overacted;" but
there is one scene in the piece of undeniable freshness and humour, to
wit, that in which Cock, the famous salesman of the Piazzas--the George
Robins of his day--is brought on the stage as Mr. Auctioneer Hen (a part
taken by Mrs. Charke). His wares, "collected by the indefatigable Pains
of that celebrated Virtuoso, _Peter Humdrum_, Esq.," include such
desirable items as "curious Remnants of Political Honesty," "delicate
Pieces of Patriotism," Modesty (which does not obtain a bid), Courage,
Wit, and "a very neat clear Conscience" of great capacity, "which has
been worn by a Judge, and a Bishop." The "Cardinal Virtues" are then put
up, and eighteen-pence is bid for them. But after they have been knocked
down at this extravagant sum, the buyer complains that he had understood
the auctioneer to say "a Cardinal's Virtues," and that the lot he has
purchased includes "Temperance and Chastity, and a Pack of Stuff that he
would not give three Farthings for." The whole of this scene is
"admirable fooling;" and it was afterwards impudently stolen by
Theophilus Cibber for his farce of the _Auction_. The _Historical
Register_ concludes with a dialogue between Quidam, in whom the audience
recognised Sir Robert Walpole, and four patriots, to whom he gives a
purse which has an instantaneous effect upon their opinions. All five
then go off dancing to Quidam's fiddle; and it is explained that they
have holes in their pockets through which the money will fall as they
dance, enabling the donor to pick it all up again, "and so not lose one
Half-penny by his Generosity."
The frank effrontery of satire like the foregoing had by this time begun
to attract the attention of the Ministry, whose withers had already been
sharply wrung by _Pasquin_; and it has been conjectured that the ballet
of Quidam and the Patriots played no small part in precipitating the
famous "Licensing Act," which was passed a few weeks afterwards. Like
the marriage which succeeded the funeral of Hamlet's father, it
certainly "followed hard upon." But the reformation of the stage had
already been contemplated by the Legislature; and two years before, Sir
John Barnard had brought in a bill "to restrain the number of houses for
playing of Interludes, and for the better regulating of common Players
of Interludes." This, however, had been abandoned, because it was
proposed to add a clause enlarging the power of the Lord Chamberlain in
licensing plays, an addition to which the introducer of the measure made
strong objection. He thought the power of the Lord Chamberlain already
too great, and in support of his argument he instanced its wanton
exercise in the case of _Gay's Polly_, the representation of which had
been suddenly prohibited a few years earlier. But _Pasquin_ and the
_Register_ brought the question of dramatic lawlessness again to the
front, and a bill was hurriedly drawn, one effect of which was to revive
the very provision that Sir John Barnard had opposed. The history of
this affair is exceedingly obscure, and in all probability it has never
been completely revealed. The received or authorised version is to be
found in Coxe's _Life of Walpole_. After dwelling on the offence given
to the Government by _Pasquin_, the writer goes on to say that Giffard,
the manager of Goodman's Fields, brought Walpole a farce called _The
Golden Rump_, which had been proposed for exhibition. Whether he did
this to extort money, or to ask advice, is not clear. In either case,
Walpole is said to have "paid the profits which might have accrued from
the performance, and detained the copy." He then made a compendious
selection of the treasonable and profane passages it contained. These he
submitted to independent members of both parties, and afterwards read
them in the House itself. The result was that by way of amendment to the
"Vagrant Act" of Anne's reign, a bill was prepared limiting the number
of theatres, and compelling all dramatic writers to obtain a license
from the Lord Chamberlain. Such is Coxe's account; but notwithstanding
its circumstantial character, it has been insinuated in the sham memoirs
of the younger Cibber, and it is plainly asserted in the _Rambler's
Magazine_ for 1787, that certain preliminary details have been
conveniently suppressed. It is alleged that Walpole himself caused the
farce in question to be written, and to be offered to Giffard, for the
purpose of introducing his scheme of reform; and the suggestion is not
without a certain remote plausibility. As may be guessed, however, _The
Golden Rump_ cannot be appealed to. It was never printed, although its
title is identical with that of a caricature published in March 1737,
and fully described in the Gentleman's Magazine for that month. If the
play at all resembled the design, it must have been obscene and
scurrilous in the extreme. [Footnote: Horace Walpole, in his _Memoires
of the Last Ten Years of the Reign of George II._, says (vol. i. p. 12),
"I have in my possession the imperfect copy of this piece as I found it
among my father's papers after his death." He calls it Fielding's; but
no importance can be attached to the statement. There is a copy of the
caricature in the British Museum Print Room (Political and Personal
Satires, No. 2327).]
Meanwhile the new bill, to which it had given rise, passed rapidly
through both Houses. Report speaks of animated discussions and warm
opposition. But there are no traces of any divisions, or petitions
against it, and the only speech which has survived is the very elaborate
and careful oration delivered in the Upper House by Lord Chesterfield.
The "second Cicero"--as Sylvanus Urban styles him--opposed the bill upon
the ground that it would affect the liberty of the press; and that it
was practically a tax upon the chief property of men of letters, their
wit--a "precarious dependence"--which (he thanked God) my Lords were
not obliged to rely upon. He dwelt also upon the value of the stage as a
fearless censor of vice and folly; and he quoted with excellent effect
but doubtful accuracy the famous answer of the Prince of Conti [Conde]
to Moliere [Louis XIV.] when _Tartuffe_ was interdicted at the instance
of M. de Lamoignon:--"It is true, Moliere, Harlequin ridicules Heaven,
and exposes religion; but you have done much worse--you have ridiculed
the first minister of religion." This, although not directly advanced
for the purpose, really indicated the head and front of Fielding's
offending in _Pasquin_ and the _Historical Register_, and although in
Lord Chesterfield's speech the former is ironically condemned, it may
well be that Fielding, whose _Don Quixote_ had been dedicated to his
Lordship, was the wire-puller in this case, and supplied this very
illustration. At all events it is entirely in the spirit of Firebrand's
words in _Pasquin_:--
"Speak boldly; by the Powers I serve, I swear
You speak in Safety, even tho' you speak
Against the Gods, provided that you speak
Not against Priests."
But the feeling of Parliament in favour of drastic legislation was even
stronger than the persuasive periods of Chesterfield, and on the 21st of
June 1737 the bill received the royal assent.
With its passing Fielding's career as a dramatic author practically
closed. In his dedication of the _Historical Register_ to "the Publick,"
he had spoken of his desire to beautify and enlarge his little theatre,
and to procure a better company of actors; and he had added--"If Nature
hath given me any Talents at ridiculing Vice and Imposture, I shall not
be indolent, nor afraid of exerting them, while the Liberty of the Press
and Stage subsists, that is to say, while we have any Liberty left among
us." To all these projects the "Licensing Act" effectively put an end;
and the only other plays from his pen which were produced subsequently
to this date were the "Wedding Day," 1743, and the posthumous _Good-
Natured Man_, 1779, both of which, as is plain from the Preface to the
_Miscellanies_, were among his earliest attempts. In the little farce of
_Miss Lucy in Town_, 1742, he had, he says, but "a very small Share."
Besides these, there are three hasty and flimsy pieces which belong to
the early part of 1737. The first of these, _Tumble-Down Dick_; or,
_Phaeton in the Suds_, was a dramatic sketch in ridicule of the
unmeaning Entertainments and Harlequinades of John Rich at Covent
Garden. This was ironically dedicated to Rich, under his stage name of
"John Lun," and from the dedication it appears that Rich had brought out
an unsuccessful satire on _Pasquin_ called _Marforio_. The other two
were _Eurydice_, a profane and pointless farce, afterwards printed by
its author (in anticipation of Beaumarchais) "as it was d--mned at the
Theatre-Royal in Drury-Lane;" and a few detached scenes in which, under
the title of _Eurydice Hiss'd; or, a Word to the Wise_, its untoward
fate was attributed to the "frail Promise of uncertain Friends." But
even in these careless and half-considered productions there are happy
strokes; and one scarcely looks to find such nervous and sensible lines
in a mere _a propos_ as these from _Eurydice Hiss'd_:--
"Yet grant it shou'd succeed, grant that by Chance,
Or by the Whim and Madness of the Town,
A Farce without Contrivance, without Sense
Should run to the Astonishment of Mankind;
Think how you will be read in After-times,
When Friends are not, and the impartial Judge
Shall with the meanest Scribbler rank your Name;
Who would not rather wish a _Butler's_ fame,
Distress'd, and poor in every thing but Merit,
Than be the blundering Laureat to a Court?"
Self-accusatory passages such as this--and there are others like it--
indicate a higher ideal of dramatic writing than Fielding is held to
have attained, and probably the key to them is to be found in that
reaction of better judgment which seems invariably to have followed his
most reckless efforts. It was a part of his sanguine and impulsive
nature to be as easily persuaded that his work was worthless as that it
was excellent. "When," says Murphy, "he was not under the immediate
urgency of want, they, who were intimate with him, are ready to aver
that he had a mind greatly superior to anything mean or little; when his
finances were exhausted, he was not the most elegant in his choice of
the means to redress himself, and he would instantly exhibit a farce or
a puppet-shew in the Haymarket theatre, which was wholly inconsistent
with the profession he had embarked in." The quotation displays all
Murphy's loose and negligent way of dealing with his facts; for, with
the exception of _Miss Lucy in Town_, which can scarcely be ranked among
his works at all, there is absolutely no trace of Fielding's having
exhibited either "puppet-show" or "farce" after seriously adopting the
law as a profession, nor does there appear to have been much acting at
the Haymarket for some time after his management had closed in 1737.
Still, his superficial characteristics, which do not depend so much upon
Murphy as upon those "who were intimate with him," are probably
accurately described, and they sufficiently account for many of the
obvious discordances of his work and life. That he was fully conscious
of something higher than his actual achievement as a dramatist is clear
from his own observation in later life, "that he left off writing for
the stage, when he ought to have begun;"--an utterance which (we
shrewdly suspect) has prompted not a little profitless speculation as to
whether, if he had continued to write plays, they would have been equal
to, or worse than, his novels. The discussion would be highly
interesting, if there were the slightest chance that it could be
attended with any satisfactory result. But the truth is, that the very
materials are wanting. Fielding "left off writing for the stage" when he
was under thirty; _Tom Jones_ was published in 1749, when he was more
than forty. His plays were written in haste; his novels at leisure, and
when, for the most part, he was relieved from that "immediate urgency of
want," which, according to Murphy, characterised his younger days. If--
as has been suggested--we could compare a novel written at thirty with a
play of the same date, or a play written at forty with _Tom Jones_, the
comparison might be instructive, although even then considerable
allowances would have to be made for the essential difference between
plays and novels. But, as we cannot make such a comparison, further
inquiry is simply waste of time. All we can safely affirm is, that the
plays of Fielding's youth did not equal the fictions of his maturity;
and that, of those plays, the comedies were less successful than the
farces and burlesques. Among other reasons for this latter difference
one chiefly may be given:--that in the comedies he sought to reproduce
the artificial world of Congreve and Wycherley, while in the burlesques
and farces he depicted the world in which he lived.