Elliston was, in his day, the Napoleon of Drury-lane, but, like the
conqueror at Austerlitz, he suffered his declensions, and the Surrey
became to him a St. Helena. However, once an eagle always an eagle; and
Robert William was no less aquiline in the day of adversity than in his
palmy time of patent prosperity. He was born to carry things with a high
hand, and he but fulfilled his destiny. The anecdote which we are about to
relate, is one of the ten thousand instances of his lordly bearing. When,
the season before last, "no effects" was written over the treasury-door of
Covent-garden theatre, it will be remembered that several actors proffered
their services _gratis_, in aid of the then humble, but now arrogant and
persecuting establishment. Among these patriots was Mr. T.P. Cooke--(it
was just after his promotion to the honorary rank of Admiral of the Blue).
The Covent-garden managers jumped at the offer of the actor, who was in
due time announced as having, in the true play-bill style, "most
generously volunteered his services for six nights!" Cooke was advertised
for _William_; Elliston having "most generously lent [N.B. this was _not_
put in the bill] his musical score of _Black-Eyed Susan_, together with
the identical captains' coats, worn at a hundred-and-fifty court-martials
at the Surrey Theatre!" Cooke--the score--the coats, were all accepted,
and made the most of by the now prosecuting managers of Covent-garden, who
cleared out of the said Cooke, score, and coats, one thousand pounds at
half-price on the first six nights of their exhibition. This is a fact;
nay, we have lately heard it stated that all the sum was specially banked,
to be used in a future war against the minors. Cooke was then engaged for
twelve more nights, at ten pounds per night--a hackney-coach bringing him
each night, hot from the Surrey stage, where he had previously made
bargemen weep, and thrown nursery-maids into convulsions. Well, time drove
on, and Cooke drove into the country. Elliston, who was always classical,
having a due veneration for that divine "creature," Shakspeare, announced,
on the anniversary of the poet's birth-day, a representation of the
Stratford Jubilee. The wardrobe was ransacked, the property-man was on the
alert; and, after much preparation, every thing was in readiness for the
imposing spectacle.--No! There was one thing forgotten--one important
"property!" _Bottom_ must be a "feature" in the procession, and there was
no ass's head! it would not do for the acting manager to apologize for the
absence of the head--no, _he_ could not have the face to do it. A head
must be procured! Every one was in doubt and trepidation, when hope
sounded in the clarion-like voice of Robert William. "Ben!" exclaimed
Elliston, "take pen, ink, and paper, and write as follows!" Ben (Mr.
Benjamin Fairbrother, the late manager's most trusty secretary) sat, "all
ear" and Elliston, with finger on nether lip, proceeded.--
"My dear Charles,
I am about to represent, 'with entirely new dresses, scenery, and
decorations,' the Stratford Jubilee, in honour of the sweet swan of Avon.
My scene-painter is the finest artist (except your Grieve) in Europe--my
tailor is no less a genius, and I lately raised the salary of my
property-man. This will give you some idea of the capabilities of the
Surrey Theatre. However, in the hurry of "getting up," we have forgotten
one property--every thing is well with us but our _Bottom_, and he wants a
head. As it is too late to manufacture, not but that my property-man is
the cleverest in the world (except the property-man of Covent-garden), can
_you_, lend me an ass's head, and believe me, my dear Charles,
Yours ever truly,