The Project Gutenberg eBook, An Apology for the Life of Mr. Colley Cibber, Volume II (of 2), by Colley Cibber, Illustrated by R. B. Parkes and Adolphe Lalauze

Note: Images of the original pages are available through Internet Archive. See [ https://archive.org/details/anapologyforlife02cibbuoft]
Project Gutenberg has the other volume of this work.
[Volume I]: see http://www.gutenberg.org/files/44064/44064-h/44064-h.htm

The cover image for this book was created for use with this electronic format and is released to the public domain.


AN APOLOGY FOR THE LIFE OF
MR. COLLEY CIBBER.


VOLUME THE SECOND.


NOTE.
510 copies printed on this fine deckle-edge demy 8vo paper for England and
America, with the portraits as India proofs after letters.

Each copy is numbered, and the type distributed.
No.


COLLEY CIBBER AS LORD FOPPINGTON.


AN APOLOGY FOR THE LIFE OF
MR. COLLEY CIBBER
WRITTEN BY HIMSELF
A NEW EDITION WITH NOTES AND SUPPLEMENT
BY
ROBERT W. LOWE
WITH TWENTY-SIX ORIGINAL MEZZOTINT PORTRAITS BY
R. B. PARKES, AND EIGHTEEN ETCHINGS
BY ADOLPHE LALAUZE

IN TWO VOLUMES
VOLUME THE SECOND
LONDON
JOHN C. NIMMO
14, King William Street, Strand
MDCCCLXXXIX


Chiswick Press
PRINTED BY CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND CO.
TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE, LONDON. E.C.


CONTENTS.


LIST OF MEZZOTINT PORTRAITS.

NEWLY ENGRAVED BY R. B. PARKES.
VOLUME THE SECOND.

PAGE
I. [Colley Cibber], in the character of "Sir Novelty Fashion, newley created Lord Foppington," in Vanbrugh's play of "The Relapse; or, Virtue in Danger." From the painting by J. Grisoni. The property of the Garrick Club. Frontispiece
II. [Owen Swiney.] After the painting by John Baptist Vanloo. 54
III. [Anne Oldfield.] From the picture by Jonathan Richardson. 70
IV. [Theophilus Cibber], in the character of "Antient Pistol". 86
V. [Hester Santlow] (Mrs. Barton Booth). After an original picture from the life. 104
VI. [Robert Wilks.] After the painting by John Ellys, 1732. 122
VII. [Richard Steele.] From the painting by Jonathan Richardson, 1712. 172
VIII. [Barton Booth.] From the picture by George White. 206
IX. [Susanna Maria Cibber.] After a painting by Thomas Hudson. 222
X. [Charles Fleetwood.] "Sir Fopling Flutter Arrested." "Drawn from a real Scene." John Dixon ad vivum del et fect. 254
XI. [Alexander Pope], at the age of 28. After the picture by Sir Godfrey Kneller, painted in 1716. 272
XII. [Susanna Maria Cibber], in the character of Cordelia, "King Lear," act iii. After the picture by Peter Van Bleeck. 288
XIII. [Cave Underhill], in the character of Obadiah, "The Fanatic Elder." After the picture by Robert Bing, 1712. 306

LIST OF CHAPTER HEADINGS.

NEWLY ETCHED FROM CONTEMPORARY DRAWINGS BY ADOLPHE LALAUZE.
Volume the Second.

X. [Scene illustrating Cibber's "Careless Husband.]" After the picture by Philip Mercier.
XI. [Coffee-House Scene of Cibber's Day], "drawn from the life" by G. Vander Gucht.
XII. [Scene illustrating "The Italian Opera," with Senesino, Cuzzoni, &c.] From a contemporary design.
XIII. [Scene illustrating Farquhar's "Recruiting Officer."] After the picture by Philip Mercier.
XIV. [Scene illustrating Addison's "Cato."] After the contemporary design by Lud. du Guernier.
XV. [Scene illustrating Vanbrugh and Cibber's "Provoked Husband."] After the contemporary design by J. Vanderbank.
XVI. [Scene illustrating Vanbrugh's "Provoked Wife."] After the contemporary design by Arnold Vanhaecken.
XVII. "[The Stage Mutiny]," with portraits of Theophilus Cibber as "Antient Pistol," Mrs. Wilks, and others, in character; Colley Cibber as Poet Laureate, with his lap filled with bags of money. From a pictorial satire of the time.
XVIII. Anthony Aston's ["The Fool's Opera."]

Ad Lalauze, sc

AN APOLOGY FOR THE LIFE OF
MR. COLLEY CIBBER, &c.

CHAPTER X.

The recruited Actors in the Hay-Market encourag'd by a Subscription. Drury-Lane under a particular Management. The Power of a Lord-Chamberlain over the Theatres consider'd. How it had been formerly exercis'd. A Digression to Tragick Authors.

Having shewn the particular Conduct of the Patentee in refusing so fair an Opportunity of securing to himself both Companies under his sole Power and Interest, I shall now lead the Reader, after a short View of what pass'd in this new Establishment of the Hay-Market Theatre, to the Accidents that the Year following compell'd the same Patentee to receive both Companies, united, into the Drury-Lane Theatre, notwithstanding his Disinclination to it.

It may now be imagin'd that such a Detachment of Actors from Drury-Lane could not but give a new Spirit to those in the Hay-Market; not only by enabling them to act each others Plays to better Advantage, but by an emulous Industry which had lain too long inactive among them, and without which they plainly saw they could not be sure of Subsistence. Plays by this means began to recover a good Share of their former Esteem and Favour; and the Profits of them in about a Month enabled our new Menager to discharge his Debt (of something more than Two hundred Pounds) to his old Friend the Patentee, who had now left him and his Troop in trust to fight their own Battles. The greatest Inconvenience they still laboured under was the immoderate Wideness of their House, in which, as I have observ'd, the Difficulty of Hearing may be said to have bury'd half the Auditors Entertainment. This Defect seem'd evident from the much better Reception several new Plays (first acted there) met with when they afterwards came to be play'd by the same Actors in Drury-Lane: Of this Number were the Stratagem[1] and the Wife's Resentment;[2] to which I may add the Double Gallant.[3] This last was a Play made up of what little was tolerable in two or three others that had no Success, and were laid aside as so much Poetical Lumber; but by collecting and adapting the best Parts of them all into one Play, the Double Gallant has had a Place every Winter amongst the Publick Entertainments these Thirty Years. As I was only the Compiler of this Piece I did not publish it in my own Name; but as my having but a Hand in it could not be long a Secret, I have been often treated as a Plagiary on that Account: Not that I think I have any right to complain of whatever would detract from the Merit of that sort of Labour, yet a Cobler may be allow'd to be useful though he is not famous:[4] And I hope a Man is not blameable for doing a little Good, tho' he cannot do as much as another? But so it is—Twopenny Criticks must live as well as Eighteenpenny Authors![5]

While the Stage was thus recovering its former Strength, a more honourable Mark of Favour was shewn to it than it was ever known before or since to have receiv'd. The then Lord Hallifax was not only the Patron of the Men of Genius of this Time, but had likewise a generous Concern for the Reputation and Prosperity of the Theatre, from whence the most elegant Dramatick Labours of the Learned, he knew, had often shone in their brightest Lustre. A Proposal therefore was drawn up and addressed to that Noble Lord for his Approbation and Assistance to raise a publick Subscription for Reviving Three Plays of the best Authors, with the full Strength of the Company; every Subscriber to have Three Tickets for the first Day of each Play for his single Payment of Three Guineas. This Subscription his Lordship so zealously encouraged, that from his Recommendation chiefly, in a very little time it was compleated. The Plays were Julius Cæsar of Shakespear; the King and no King of Fletcher, and the Comic Scenes of Drydens Marriage à la mode and of his Maiden Queen put together;[6] for it was judg'd that, as these comic Episodes were utterly independent of the serious Scenes they were originally written to, they might on this occasion be as well Episodes either to the other, and so make up five livelier Acts between them: At least the Project so well succeeded, that those comic Parts have never since been replaced, but were continued to be jointly acted as one Play several Years after.

By the Aid of this Subscription, which happen'd in 1707, and by the additional Strength and Industry of this Company, not only the Actors (several of which were handsomely advanc'd in their Sallaries) were duly paid, but the Menager himself, too, at the Foot of his Account, stood a considerable Gainer.

At the same time the Patentee of Drury-Lane went on in his usual Method of paying extraordinary Prices to Singers, Dancers, and other exotick Performers, which were as constantly deducted out of the sinking Sallaries of his Actors: 'Tis true his Actors perhaps might not deserve much more than he gave them; yet, by what I have related, it is plain he chose not to be troubled with such as visibly had deserv'd more: For it seems he had not purchas'd his Share of the Patent to mend the Stage, but to make Money of it: And to say Truth, his Sense of every thing to be shewn there was much upon a Level with the Taste of the Multitude, whose Opinion and whose Money weigh'd with him full as much as that of the best Judges. His Point was to please the Majority, who could more easily comprehend any thing they saw than the daintiest things that could be said to them. But in this Notion he kept no medium; for in my Memory he carry'd it so far that he was (some few Years before this time) actually dealing for an extraordinary large Elephant at a certain Sum for every Day he might think fit to shew the tractable Genius of that vast quiet Creature in any Play or Farce in the Theatre (then standing) in Dorset-Garden. But from the Jealousy which so formidable a Rival had rais'd in his Dancers, and by his Bricklayer's assuring him that if the Walls were to be open'd wide enough for its Entrance it might endanger the fall of the House, he gave up his Project, and with it so hopeful a Prospect of making the Receipts of the Stage run higher than all the Wit and Force of the best Writers had ever yet rais'd them to.[7]

About the same time of his being under this Disappointment he put in Practice another Project of as new, though not of so bold a Nature; which was his introducing a Set of Rope-dancers into the same Theatre; for the first Day of whose Performance he had given out some Play in which I had a material Part: But I was hardy enough to go into the Pit and acquaint the Spectators near me, that I hop'd they would not think it a Mark of my Disrespect to them, if I declin'd acting upon any Stage that was brought to so low a Disgrace as ours was like to be by that Day's Entertainment. My Excuse was so well taken that I never after found any ill Consequences, or heard of the least Disapprobation of it: And the whole Body of Actors, too, protesting against such an Abuse of their Profession, our cautious Master was too much alarm'd and intimidated to repeat it.

After what I have said, it will be no wonder that all due Regards to the original Use and Institution of the Stage should be utterly lost or neglected: Nor was the Conduct of this Menager easily to be alter'd while he had found the Secret of making Money out of Disorder and Confusion: For however strange it may seem, I have often observ'd him inclin'd to be cheerful in the Distresses of his Theatrical Affairs, and equally reserv'd and pensive when they went smoothly forward with a visible Profit. Upon a Run of good Audiences he was more frighted to be thought a Gainer, which might make him accountable to others, than he was dejected with bad Houses, which at worst he knew would make others accountable to him: And as, upon a moderate Computation, it cannot be supposed that the contested Accounts of a twenty Year's Wear and Tear in a Play-house could be fairly adjusted by a Master in Chancery under four-score Years more, it will be no Surprize that by the Neglect, or rather the Discretion, of other Proprietors in not throwing away good Money after bad, this Hero of a Menager, who alone supported the War, should in time so fortify himself by Delay, and so tire his Enemies, that he became sole Monarch of his Theatrical Empire, and left the quiet Possession of it to his Successors.

If these Facts seem too trivial for the Attention of a sensible Reader, let it be consider'd that they are not chosen Fictions to entertain, but Truths necessary to inform him under what low Shifts and Disgraces, what Disorders and Revolutions, the Stage labour'd before it could recover that Strength and Reputation wherewith it began to flourish towards the latter End of Queen Anne's Reign; and which it continued to enjoy for a Course of twenty Years following. But let us resume our Account of the new Settlement in the Hay-Market.

It may be a natural Question why the Actors whom Swiney brought over to his Undertaking in the Hay-Market would tie themselves down to limited Sallaries? for though he as their Menager was obliged to make them certain Payments, it was not certain that the Receipts would enable him to do it; and since their own Industry was the only visible Fund they had to depend upon, why would they not for that Reason insist upon their being Sharers as well of possible Profits as Losses? How far in this Point they acted right or wrong will appear from the following State of their Case.

It must first be consider'd that this Scheme of their Desertion was all concerted and put in Execution in a Week's Time, which short Warning might make them overlook that Circumstance, and the sudden Prospect of being deliver'd from having seldom more than half their Pay was a Contentment that had bounded all their farther Views. Besides, as there could be no room to doubt of their receiving their full Pay previous to any Profits that might be reap'd by their Labour, and as they had no great Reason to apprehend those Profits could exceed their respective Sallaries so far as to make them repine at them, they might think it but reasonable to let the Chance of any extraordinary Gain be on the Side of their Leader and Director. But farther, as this Scheme had the Approbation of the Court, these Actors in reality had it not in their Power to alter any Part of it: And what induced the Court to encourage it was, that by having the Theatre and its Menager more immediately dependent on the Power of the Lord Chamberlain, it was not doubted but the Stage would be recover'd into such a Reputation as might now do Honour to that absolute Command which the Court or its Officers seem'd always fond of having over it.

Here, to set the Constitution of the Stage in a clearer Light, it may not be amiss to look back a little on the Power of a Lord Chamberlain, which, as may have been observ'd in all Changes of the Theatrical Government, has been the main Spring without which no Scheme of what kind soever could be set in Motion. My Intent is not to enquire how far by Law this Power has been limited or extended; but merely as an Historian to relate Facts to gratify the Curious, and then leave them to their own Reflections: This, too, I am the more inclin'd to, because there is no one Circumstance which has affected the Stage wherein so many Spectators, from those of the highest Rank to the Vulgar, have seem'd more positively knowing or less inform'd in.

Though in all the Letters Patent for acting Plays, &c. since King Charles the First's Time there has been no mention of the Lord Chamberlain, or of any Subordination to his Command or Authority, yet it was still taken for granted that no Letters Patent, by the bare Omission of such a great Officer's Name, could have superseded or taken out of his Hands that Power which Time out of Mind he always had exercised over the Theatre.[8] The common Opinions then abroad were, that if the Profession of Actors was unlawful, it was not in the Power of the Crown to license it; and if it were not unlawful, it ought to be free and independent as other Professions; and that a Patent to exercise it was only an honorary Favour from the Crown to give it a better Grace of Recommendation to the Publick. But as the Truth of this Question seem'd to be wrapt in a great deal of Obscurity, in the old Laws made in former Reigns relating to Players, &c. it may be no Wonder that the best Companies of Actors should be desirous of taking Shelter under the visible Power of a Lord Chamberlain who they knew had at his Pleasure favoured and protected or born hard upon them: But be all this as it may, a Lord Chamberlain (from whencesoever his Power might be derived) had till of later Years had always an implicit Obedience paid to it: I shall now give some few Instances in what manner it was exercised.

What appear'd to be most reasonably under his Cognizance was the licensing or refusing new Plays, or striking out what might be thought offensive in them: Which Province had been for many Years assign'd to his inferior Officer, the Master of the Revels; yet was not this License irrevocable; for several Plays, though acted by that Permission, had been silenced afterwards. The first Instance of this kind that common Fame has deliver'd down to us, is that of the Maid's Tragedy of Beaumont and Fletcher, which was forbid in King Charles the Second's time, by an Order from the Lord Chamberlain. For what Reason this Interdiction was laid upon it the Politicks of those Days have only left us to guess. Some said that the killing of the King in that Play, while the tragical Death of King Charles the First was then so fresh in People's Memory, was an Object too horribly impious for a publick Entertainment. What makes this Conjecture seem to have some Foundation, is that the celebrated Waller, in Compliment to that Court, alter'd the last Act of this Play (which is printed at the End of his Works) and gave it a new Catastrophe, wherein the Life of the King is loyally saved, and the Lady's Matter made up with a less terrible Reparation. Others have given out, that a repenting Mistress, in a romantick Revenge of her Dishonour, killing the King in the very Bed he expected her to come into, was shewing a too dangerous Example to other Evadnes then shining at Court in the same Rank of royal Distinction; who, if ever their Consciences should have run equally mad, might have had frequent Opportunities of putting the Expiation of their Frailty into the like Execution. But this I doubt is too deep a Speculation, or too ludicrous a Reason, to be relied on; it being well known that the Ladies then in favour were not so nice in their Notions as to think their Preferment their Dishonour, or their Lover a Tyrant: Besides, that easy Monarch loved his Roses without Thorns; nor do we hear that he much chose to be himself the first Gatherer of them.[9]

The Lucius Junius Brutus of Nat. Lee[10] was in the same Reign silenced after the third Day of Acting it; it being objected that the Plan and Sentiments of it had too boldly vindicated, and might enflame republican Principles.

A Prologue (by Dryden) to the Prophetess was forbid by the Lord Dorset after the first Day of its being spoken.[11] This happen'd when King William was prosecuting the War in Ireland. It must be confess'd that this Prologue had some familiar, metaphorical Sneers at the Revolution itself; and as the Poetry of it was good, the Offence of it was less pardonable.

The Tragedy of Mary Queen of Scotland[12] had been offer'd to the Stage twenty Years before it was acted: But from the profound Penetration of the Master of the Revels, who saw political Spectres in it that never appear'd in the Presentation, it had lain so long upon the Hands of the Author; who had at last the good Fortune to prevail with a Nobleman to favour his Petition to Queen Anne for Permission to have it acted: The Queen had the Goodness to refer the Merit of his Play to the Opinion of that noble Person, although he was not her Majesty's Lord Chamberlain; upon whose Report of its being every way an innocent Piece, it was soon after acted with Success.

Reader, by your Leave——I will but just speak a Word or two to any Author that has not yet writ one Line of his next Play, and then I will come to my Point again——What I would say to him is this—Sir, before you set Pen to Paper, think well and principally of your Design or chief Action, towards which every Line you write ought to be drawn, as to its Centre: If we can say of your finest Sentiments, This or That might be left out without maiming the Story, you would tell us, depend upon it, that fine thing is said in a wrong Place; and though you may urge that a bright Thought is not to be resisted, you will not be able to deny that those very fine Lines would be much finer if you could find a proper Occasion for them: Otherwise you will be thought to take less Advice from Aristotle or Horace than from Poet Bays in the Rehearsal, who very smartly says—What the Devil is the Plot good for but to bring in fine things? Compliment the Taste of your Hearers as much as you please with them, provided they belong to your Subject, but don't, like a dainty Preacher who has his Eye more upon this World than the next, leave your Text for them. When your Fable is good, every Part of it will cost you much less Labour to keep your Narration alive, than you will be forced to bestow upon those elegant Discourses that are not absolutely conducive to your Catastrophe or main Purpose: Scenes of that kind shew but at best the unprofitable or injudicious Spirit of a Genius. It is but a melancholy Commendation of a fine Thought to say, when we have heard it, Well! but what's all this to the Purpose? Take, therefore, in some part, Example by the Author last mention'd! There are three Plays of his, The Earl of Essex,[13] Anna Bullen,[14] and Mary Queen of Scots, which, tho' they are all written in the most barren, barbarous Stile that was ever able to keep Possession of the Stage, have all interested the Hearts of his Auditors. To what then could this Success be owing, but to the intrinsick and naked Value of the well-conducted Tales he has simply told us? There is something so happy in the Disposition of all his Fables; all his chief Characters are thrown into such natural Circumstances of Distress, that their Misery or Affliction wants very little Assistance from the Ornaments of Stile or Words to speak them. When a skilful Actor is so situated, his bare plaintive Tone of Voice, the Cast of Sorrow from his Eye, his slowly graceful Gesture, his humble Sighs of Resignation under his Calamities: All these, I say, are sometimes without a Tongue equal to the strongest Eloquence. At such a time the attentive Auditor supplies from his own Heart whatever the Poet's Language may fall short of in Expression, and melts himself into every Pang of Humanity which the like Misfortunes in real Life could have inspir'd.

After what I have observ'd, whenever I see a Tragedy defective in its Fable, let there be never so many fine Lines in it; I hope I shall be forgiven if I impute that Defect to the Idleness, the weak Judgment, or barren Invention of the Author.

If I should be ask'd why I have not always my self follow'd the Rules I would impose upon others; I can only answer, that whenever I have not, I lie equally open to the same critical Censure. But having often observ'd a better than ordinary Stile thrown away upon the loose and wandering Scenes of an ill-chosen Story, I imagin'd these Observations might convince some future Author of how great Advantage a Fable well plann'd must be to a Man of any tolerable Genius.

All this I own is leading my Reader out of the way; but if he has as much Time upon his Hands as I have, (provided we are neither of us tir'd) it may be equally to the Purpose what he reads or what I write of. But as I have no Objection to Method when it is not troublesome, I return to my Subject.

Hitherto we have seen no very unreasonable Instance of this absolute Power of a Lord Chamberlain, though we were to admit that no one knew of any real Law, or Construction of Law, by which this Power was given him. I shall now offer some Facts relating to it of a more extraordinary Nature, which I leave my Reader to give a Name to.

About the middle of King William's Reign an Order of the Lord Chamberlain was then subsisting that no Actor of either Company should presume to go from one to the other without a Discharge from their respective Menagers[15] and the Permission of the Lord Chamberlain. Notwithstanding such Order, Powel, being uneasy at the Favour Wilks was then rising into, had without such Discharge left the Drury-Lane Theatre and engag'd himself to that of Lincolns-Inn-Fields: But by what follows it will appear that this Order was not so much intended to do both of them good, as to do that which the Court chiefly favour'd (Lincolns-Inn-Fields) no harm.[16] For when Powel grew dissatisfy'd at his Station there too, he return'd to Drury-Lane (as he had before gone from it) without a Discharge: But halt a little! here, on this Side of the Question, the Order was to stand in force, and the same Offence against it now was not to be equally pass'd over. He was the next Day taken up by a Messenger and confin'd to the Porter's-Lodge, where, to the best of my Remembrance, he remain'd about two Days; when the Menagers of Lincolns-Inn-Fields, not thinking an Actor of his loose Character worth their farther Trouble, gave him up; though perhaps he was releas'd for some better Reason.[17] Upon this occasion, the next Day, behind the Scenes at Drury-Lane, a Person of great Quality in my hearing enquiring of Powel into the Nature of his Offence, after he had heard it, told him, That if he had had Patience or Spirit enough to have staid in his Confinement till he had given him Notice of it, he would have found him a handsomer way of coming out of it.

Another time the same Actor, Powel, was provok'd at Will's Coffee-house, in a Dispute about the Playhouse Affairs, to strike a Gentleman whose Family had been sometimes Masters of it; a Complaint of this Insolence was, in the Absence of the Lord-Chamberlain, immediately made to the Vice-Chamberlain, who so highly resented it that he thought himself bound in Honour to carry his Power of redressing it as far as it could possibly go: For Powel having a Part in the Play that was acted the Day after, the Vice-Chamberlain sent an Order to silence the whole Company for having suffer'd Powel to appear upon the Stage before he had made that Gentleman Satisfaction, although the Masters of the Theatre had had no Notice of Powel's Misbehaviour: However, this Order was obey'd, and remain'd in force for two or three Days, 'till the same Authority was pleas'd or advis'd to revoke it.[18] From the Measures this injur'd Gentleman took for his Redress, it may be judg'd how far it was taken for granted that a Lord-Chamberlain had an absolute Power over the Theatre.

I shall now give an Instance of an Actor who had the Resolution to stand upon the Defence of his Liberty against the same Authority, and was reliev'd by it.

In the same King's Reign, Dogget, who tho', from a severe Exactness in his Nature, he could be seldom long easy in any Theatre, where Irregularity, not to say Injustice, too often prevail'd, yet in the private Conduct of his Affairs he was a prudent, honest Man. He therefore took an unusual Care, when he return'd to act under the Patent in Drury-Lane, to have his Articles drawn firm and binding: But having some Reason to think the Patentee had not dealt fairly with him, he quitted the Stage and would act no more, rather chusing to lose his whatever unsatisfy'd Demands than go through the chargeable and tedious Course of the Law to recover it. But the Patentee, who (from other People's Judgment) knew the Value of him, and who wanted, too, to have him sooner back than the Law could possibly bring him, thought the surer way would be to desire a shorter Redress from the Authority of the Lord-Chamberlain.[19] Accordingly, upon his Complaint a Messenger was immediately dispatch'd to Norwich, where Dogget then was, to bring him up in Custody: But doughty Dogget, who had Money in his Pocket and the Cause of Liberty at his Heart, was not in the least intimidated by this formidable Summons. He was observ'd to obey it with a particular Chearfulness, entertaining his Fellow-traveller, the Messenger, all the way in the Coach (for he had protested against Riding) with as much Humour as a Man of his Business might be capable of tasting. And as he found his Charges were to be defray'd, he, at every Inn, call'd for the best Dainties the Country could afford or a pretended weak Appetite could digest. At this rate they jollily roll'd on, more with the Air of a Jaunt than a Journey, or a Party of Pleasure than of a poor Devil in Durance. Upon his Arrival in Town he immediately apply'd to the Lord Chief Justice Holt for his Habeas Corpus. As his Case was something particular, that eminent and learned Minister of the Law took a particular Notice of it: For Dogget was not only discharg'd, but the Process of his Confinement (according to common Fame) had a Censure pass'd upon it in Court, which I doubt I am not Lawyer enough to repeat! To conclude, the officious Agents in this Affair, finding that in Dogget they had mistaken their Man, were mollify'd into milder Proceedings, and (as he afterwards told me) whisper'd something in his Ear that took away Dogget's farther Uneasiness about it.

By these Instances we see how naturally Power only founded on Custom is apt, where the Law is silent, to run into Excesses, and while it laudably pretends to govern others, how hard it is to govern itself. But since the Law has lately open'd its Mouth, and has said plainly that some Part of this Power to govern the Theatre shall be, and is plac'd in a proper Person; and as it is evident that the Power of that white Staff, ever since it has been in the noble Hand that now holds it, has been us'd with the utmost Lenity, I would beg leave of the murmuring Multitude who frequent the Theatre to offer them a simple Question or two, viz. Pray, Gentlemen, how came you, or rather your Fore-fathers, never to be mutinous upon any of the occasional Facts I have related? And why have you been so often tumultuous upon a Law's being made that only confirms a less Power than was formerly exercis'd without any Law to support it? You cannot, sure, say such Discontent is either just or natural, unless you allow it a Maxim in your Politicks that Power exercis'd without Law is a less Grievance than the same Power exercis'd according to Law!

Having thus given the clearest View I was able of the usual Regard paid to the Power of a Lord-Chamberlain, the Reader will more easily conceive what Influence and Operation that Power must naturally have in all Theatrical Revolutions, and particularly in the complete Re-union of both Companies, which happen'd in the Year following.


Ad Lalauze, sc

CHAPTER XI.

Some Chimærical Thoughts of making the Stage useful: Some, to its Reputation. The Patent unprofitable to all the Proprietors but one. A fourth Part of it given away to Colonel Brett. A Digression to his Memory. The two Companies of Actors reunited by his Interest and Menagement. The first Direction of Operas only given to Mr. Swiney.

From the Time that the Company of Actors in the Hay-Market was recruited with those from Drury-Lane, and came into the Hands of their new Director, Swiney, the Theatre for three or four Years following suffer'd so many Convulsions, and was thrown every other Winter under such different Interests and Menagement before it came to a firm and lasting Settlement, that I am doubtful if the most candid Reader will have Patience to go through a full and fair Account of it: And yet I would fain flatter my self that those who are not too wise to frequent the Theatre (or have Wit enough to distinguish what sort of Sights there either do Honour or Disgrace to it) may think their national Diversion no contemptible Subject for a more able Historian than I pretend to be: If I have any particular Qualification for the Task more than another it is that I have been an ocular Witness of the several Facts that are to fill up the rest of my Volume, and am perhaps the only Person living (however unworthy) from whom the same Materials can be collected; but let them come from whom they may, whether at best they will be worth reading, perhaps a Judgment may be better form'd after a patient Perusal of the following Digression.

In whatever cold Esteem the Stage may be among the Wise and Powerful, it is not so much a Reproach to those who contentedly enjoy it in its lowest Condition, as that Condition of it is to those who (though they cannot but know to how valuable a publick Use a Theatre, well establish'd, might be rais'd) yet in so many civiliz'd Nations have neglected it. This perhaps will be call'd thinking my own wiser than all the wise Heads in Europe. But I hope a more humble Sense will be given to it; at least I only mean, that if so many Governments have their Reasons for their Disregard of their Theatres, those Reasons may be deeper than my Capacity has yet been able to dive into: If therefore my simple Opinion is a wrong one, let the Singularity of it expose me: And tho' I am only building a Theatre in the Air, it is there, however, at so little Expence and in so much better a Taste than any I have yet seen, that I cannot help saying of it, as a wiser Man did (it may be) upon a wiser Occasion:

Si quid novisti rectius istis,

Candidus imperti; si non

Hor.[20]

Give me leave to play with my Project in Fancy.

I say, then, that as I allow nothing is more liable to debase and corrupt the Minds of a People than a licentious Theatre, so under a just and proper Establishment it were possible to make it as apparently the School of Manners and of Virtue. Were I to collect all the Arguments that might be given for my Opinion, or to inforce it by exemplary Proofs, it might swell this short Digression to a Volume; I shall therefore trust the Validity of what I have laid down to a single Fact that may be still fresh in the Memory of many living Spectators. When the Tragedy of Cato was first acted,[21] let us call to mind the noble Spirit of Patriotism which that Play then infus'd into the Breasts of a free People that crowded to it; with what affecting Force was that most elevated of Human Virtues recommended? Even the false Pretenders to it felt an unwilling Conviction, and made it a Point of Honour to be foremost in their Approbation; and this, too, at a time when the fermented Nation had their different Views of Government. Yet the sublime Sentiments of Liberty in that venerable Character rais'd in every sensible Hearer such conscious Admiration, such compell'd Assent to the Conduct of a suffering Virtue, as even demanded two almost irreconcileable Parties to embrace and join in their equal Applauses of it.[22] Now, not to take from the Merit of the Writer, had that Play never come to the Stage, how much of this valuable Effect of it must have been lost? It then could have had no more immediate weight with the Publick than our poring upon the many ancient Authors thro' whose Works the same Sentiments have been perhaps less profitably dispers'd, tho' amongst Millions of Readers; but by bringing such Sentiments to the Theatre and into Action, what a superior Lustre did they shine with? There Cato breath'd again in Life; and though he perish'd in the Cause of Liberty, his Virtue was victorious, and left the Triumph of it in the Heart of every melting Spectator. If Effects like these are laudable, if the Representation of such Plays can carry Conviction with so much Pleasure to the Understanding, have they not vastly the Advantage of any other Human Helps to Eloquence? What equal Method can be found to lead or stimulate the Mind to a quicker Sense of Truth and Virtue, or warm a People into the Love and Practice of such Principles as might be at once a Defence and Honour to their Country? In what Shape could we listen to Virtue with equal Delight or Appetite of Instruction? The Mind of Man is naturally free, and when he is compell'd or menac'd into any Opinion that he does not readily conceive, he is more apt to doubt the Truth of it than when his Capacity is led by Delight into Evidence and Reason. To preserve a Theatre in this Strength and Purity of Morals is, I grant, what the wisest Nations have not been able to perpetuate or to transmit long to their Posterity: But this Difficulty will rather heighten than take from the Honour of the Theatre: The greatest Empires have decay'd for want of proper Heads to guide them, and the Ruins of them sometimes have been the Subject of Theatres that could not be themselves exempt from as various Revolutions: Yet may not the most natural Inference from all this be, That the Talents requisite to form good Actors, great Writers, and true Judges were, like those of wise and memorable Ministers, as well the Gifts of Fortune as of Nature, and not always to be found in all Climes or Ages. Or can there be a stronger modern Evidence of the Value of Dramatick Performances than that in many Countries where the Papal Religion prevails the Holy Policy (though it allows not to an Actor Christian Burial) is so conscious of the Usefulness of his Art that it will frequently take in the Assistance of the Theatre to give even Sacred History, in a Tragedy, a Recommendation to the more pathetick Regard of their People. How can such Principles, in the Face of the World, refuse the Bones of a Wretch the lowest Benefit of Christian Charity after having admitted his Profession (for which they deprive him of that Charity) to serve the solemn Purposes of Religion? How far then is this Religious Inhumanity short of that famous Painter's, who, to make his Crucifix a Master-piece of Nature, stabb'd the Innocent Hireling from whose Body he drew it; and having heighten'd the holy Portrait with his last Agonies of Life, then sent it to be the consecrated Ornament of an Altar? Though we have only the Authority of common Fame for this Story, yet be it true or false the Comparison will still be just. Or let me ask another Question more humanly political.

How came the Athenians to lay out an Hundred Thousand Pounds upon the Decorations of one single Tragedy of Sophocles?[23] Not, sure, as it was merely a Spectacle for Idleness or Vacancy of Thought to gape at, but because it was the most rational, most instructive and delightful Composition that Human Wit had yet arrived at, and consequently the most worthy to be the Entertainment of a wise and warlike Nation: And it may be still a Question whether the Sophocles inspir'd this Publick Spirit, or this Publick Spirit inspir'd the Sophocles?[24]

But alas! as the Power of giving or receiving such Inspirations from either of these Causes seems pretty well at an End, now I have shot my Bolt I shall descend to talk more like a Man of the Age I live in: For, indeed, what is all this to a common English Reader? Why truly, as Shakespear terms it—Caviare to the Multitude![25] Honest John Trott will tell you, that if he were to believe what I have said of the Athenians, he is at most but astonish'd at it; but that if the twentieth Part of the Sum I have mentioned were to be apply'd out of the Publick money to the Setting off the best Tragedy the nicest Noddle in the Nation could produce, it would probably raise the Passions higher in those that did Not like it than in those that did; it might as likely meet with an Insurrection as the Applause of the People, and so, mayhap, be fitter for the Subject of a Tragedy than for a publick Fund to support it.——Truly, Mr. Trott, I cannot but own that I am very much of your Opinion: I am only concerned that the Theatre has not a better Pretence to the Care and further Consideration of those Governments where it is tolerated; but as what I have said will not probably do it any great Harm, I hope I have not put you out of Patience by throwing a few good Wishes after an old Acquaintance.

To conclude this Digression. If for the Support of the Stage what is generally shewn there must be lower'd to the Taste of common Spectators; or if it is inconsistent with Liberty to mend that Vulgar Taste by making the Multitude less merry there; or by abolishing every low and senseless Jollity in which the Understanding can have no Share; whenever, I say, such is the State of the Stage, it will be as often liable to unanswerable Censure and manifest Disgraces. Yet there was a Time, not yet out of many People's Memory, when it subsisted upon its own rational Labours; when even Success attended an Attempt to reduce it to Decency; and when Actors themselves were hardy enough to hazard their Interest in pursuit of so dangerous a Reformation. And this Crisis I am my self as impatient as any tir'd Reader can be to arrive at. I shall therefore endeavour to lead him the shortest way to it. But as I am a little jealous of the badness of the Road, I must reserve to myself the Liberty of calling upon any Matter in my way, for a little Refreshment to whatever Company may have the Curiosity or Goodness to go along with me.

When the sole Menaging Patentee at Drury-Lane for several Years could never be persuaded or driven to any Account with the Adventurers, Sir Thomas Skipwith (who, if I am rightly inform'd, had an equal Share with him[26]) grew so weary of the Affair that he actually made a Present of his entire Interest in it upon the following Occasion.

Sir Thomas happen'd in the Summer preceding the Re-union of the Companies to make a Visit to an intimate Friend of his, Colonel Brett, of Sandywell, in Gloucestershire; where the Pleasantness of the Place, and the agreeable manner of passing his Time there, had raised him to such a Gallantry of Heart, that in return to the Civilities of his Friend the Colonel he made him an Offer of his whole Right in the Patent; but not to overrate the Value of his Present, told him he himself had made nothing of it these ten Years: But the Colonel (he said) being a greater Favourite of the People in Power, and (as he believ'd) among the Actors too, than himself was, might think of some Scheme to turn it to Advantage, and in that Light, if he lik'd it, it was at his Service. After a great deal of Raillery on both sides of what Sir Thomas had not made of it, and the particular Advantages the Colonel was likely to make of it, they came to a laughing Resolution That an Instrument should be drawn the next Morning of an Absolute Conveyance of the Premises. A Gentleman of the Law well known to them both happening to be a Guest there at the same time, the next Day produced the Deed according to his Instructions, in the Presence of whom and of others it was sign'd, seal'd, and deliver'd to the Purposes therein contain'd.[27]

This Transaction may be another Instance (as I have elsewhere observed) at how low a Value the Interests in a Theatrical License were then held, tho' it was visible from the Success of Swiney in that very Year that with tolerable Menagement they could at no time have fail'd of being a profitable Purchase.

The next Thing to be consider'd was what the Colonel should do with his new Theatrical Commission, which in another's Possession had been of so little Importance. Here it may be necessary to premise that this Gentleman was the first of any Consideration since my coming to the Stage with whom I had contracted a Personal Intimacy; which might be the Reason why in this Debate my Opinion had some Weight with him: Of this Intimacy, too, I am the more tempted to talk from the natural Pleasure of calling back in Age the Pursuits and happy Ardours of Youth long past, which, like the Ideas of a delightful Spring in a Winter's Rumination, are sometimes equal to the former Enjoyment of them. I shall, therefore, rather chuse in this Place to gratify my self than my Reader, by setting the fairest Side of this Gentleman in view, and by indulging a little conscious Vanity in shewing how early in Life I fell into the Possession of so agreeable a Companion: Whatever Failings he might have to others, he had none to me; nor was he, where he had them, without his valuable Qualities to balance or soften them. Let, then, what was not to be commended in him rest with his Ashes, never to be rak'd into: But the friendly Favours I received from him while living give me still a Pleasure in paying this only Mite of my Acknowledgment in my Power to his Memory. And if my taking this Liberty may find Pardon from several of his fair Relations still living, for whom I profess the utmost Respect, it will give me but little Concern tho' my critical Readers should think it all Impertinence.

This Gentleman, then, Henry, was the eldest Son of Henry Brett, Esq; of Cowley, in Gloucestershire, who coming early to his Estate of about Two Thousand a Year, by the usual Negligences of young Heirs had, before this his eldest Son came of age, sunk it to about half that Value, and that not wholly free from Incumbrances. Mr. Brett, whom I am speaking of, had his Education, and I might say, ended it, at the University of Oxford; for tho' he was settled some time after at the Temple, he so little followed the Law there that his Neglect of it made the Law (like some of his fair and frail Admirers) very often follow him. As he had an uncommon Share of Social Wit and a handsom Person, with a sanguine Bloom in his Complexion, no wonder they persuaded him that he might have a better Chance of Fortune by throwing such Accomplishments into the gayer World than by shutting them up in a Study. The first View that fires the Head of a young Gentleman of this modish Ambition just broke loose from Business, is to cut a Figure (as they call it) in a Side-box at the Play, from whence their next Step is to the Green Room behind the Scenes, sometimes their Non ultra. Hither at last, then, in this hopeful Quest of his Fortune, came this Gentleman-Errant, not doubting but the fickle Dame, while he was thus qualified to receive her, might be tempted to fall into his Lap. And though possibly the Charms of our Theatrical Nymphs might have their Share in drawing him thither, yet in my Observation the most visible Cause of his first coming was a more sincere Passion he had conceived for a fair full-bottom'd Perriwig which I then wore in my first Play of the Fool in Fashion in the Year 1695.[28] For it is to be noted that the Beaux of those Days were of a quite different Cast from the modern Stamp, and had more of the Stateliness of the Peacock in their Mien than (which now seems to be their highest Emulation) the pert Air of a Lapwing. Now, whatever Contempt Philosophers may have for a fine Perriwig, my Friend, who was not to despise the World, but to live in it, knew very well that so material an Article of Dress upon the Head of a Man of Sense, if it became him, could never fail of drawing to him a more partial Regard and Benevolence than could possibly be hoped for in an ill-made one.[29] This perhaps may soften the grave Censure which so youthful a Purchase might otherwise have laid upon him: In a Word, he made his Attack upon this Perriwig, as your young Fellows generally do upon a Lady of Pleasure, first by a few familiar Praises of her Person, and then a civil Enquiry into the Price of it. But upon his observing me a little surprized at the Levity of his Question about a Fop's Perriwig, he began to railly himself with so much Wit and Humour upon the Folly of his Fondness for it, that he struck me with an equal Desire of granting any thing in my Power to oblige so facetious a Customer. This singular Beginning of our Conversation, and the mutual Laughs that ensued upon it, ended in an Agreement to finish our Bargain that Night over a Bottle.

If it were possible the Relation of the happy Indiscretions which passed between us that Night could give the tenth Part of the Pleasure I then received from them, I could still repeat them with Delight: But as it may be doubtful whether the Patience of a Reader may be quite so strong as the Vanity of an Author, I shall cut it short by only saying that single Bottle was the Sire of many a jolly Dozen that for some Years following, like orderly Children, whenever they were call'd for, came into the same Company. Nor, indeed, did I think from that time, whenever he was to be had, any Evening could be agreeably enjoy'd without him.[30] But the long continuance of our Intimacy perhaps may be thus accounted for.

He who can taste Wit in another may in some sort be said to have it himself: Now, as I always had, and (I bless my self for the Folly) still have a quick Relish of whatever did or can give me Delight: This Gentleman could not but see the youthful Joy I was generally raised to whenever I had the Happiness of a Tête à tête with him; and it may be a moot Point whether Wit is not as often inspired by a proper Attention as by the brightest Reply to it. Therefore, as he had Wit enough for any two People, and I had Attention enough for any four, there could not well be wanting a sociable Delight on either side. And tho' it may be true that a Man of a handsome Person is apt to draw a partial Ear to every thing he says; yet this Gentleman seldom said any thing that might not have made a Man of the plainest Person agreeable. Such a continual Desire to please, it may be imagined, could not but sometimes lead him into a little venial Flattery rather than not succeed in it. And I, perhaps, might be one of those Flies that was caught in this Honey. As I was then a young successful Author and an Actor in some unexpected Favour, whether deservedly or not imports not; yet such Appearances at least were plausible Pretences enough for an amicable Adulation to enlarge upon, and the Sallies of it a less Vanity than mine might not have been able to resist. Whatever this Weakness on my side might be, I was not alone in it; for I have heard a Gentleman of Condition say, who knew the World as well as most Men that live in it, that let his Discretion be ever so much upon its Guard, he never fell into Mr. Brett's Company without being loth to leave it or carrying away a better Opinion of himself from it. If his Conversation had this Effect among the Men; what must we suppose to have been the Consequence when he gave it a yet softer turn among the Fair Sex? Here, now, a French Novellist would tell you fifty pretty Lies of him; but as I chuse to be tender of Secrets of that sort, I shall only borrow the good Breeding of that Language, and tell you in a Word, that I knew several Instances of his being un Homme à bonne Fortune. But though his frequent Successes might generally keep him from the usual Disquiets of a Lover, he knew this was a Life too liquorish to last; and therefore had Reflexion enough to be govern'd by the Advice of his Friends to turn these his Advantages of Nature to a better use.

Among the many Men of Condition with whom his Conversation had recommended him to an Intimacy, Sir Thomas Skipwith had taken a particular Inclination to him; and as he had the Advancement of his Fortune at Heart, introduced him where there was a Lady[31] who had enough in her Power to disencumber him of the World and make him every way easy for Life.

While he was in pursuit of this Affair, which no time was to be lost in (for the Lady was to be in Town but for three Weeks) I one Day found him idling behind the Scenes before the Play was begun. Upon sight of him I took the usual Freedom he allow'd me, to rate him roundly for the Madness of not improving every Moment in his Power in what was of such consequence to him. Why are you not (said I) where you know you only should be? If your Design should once get Wind in the Town, the Ill-will of your Enemies or the Sincerity of the Lady's Friends may soon blow up your Hopes, which in your Circumstances of Life cannot be long supported by the bare Appearance of a Gentleman.——But it is impossible to proceed without some Apology for the very familiar Circumstance that is to follow——Yet, as it might not be so trivial in its Effect as I fear it may be in the Narration, and is a Mark of that Intimacy which is necessary should be known had been between us, I will honestly make bold with my Scruples and let the plain Truth of my Story take its Chance for Contempt or Approbation.

After twenty Excuses to clear himself of the Neglect I had so warmly charged him with, he concluded them with telling me he had been out all the Morning upon Business, and that his Linnen was too much soil'd to be seen in Company. Oh, ho! said I, is that all? Come along with me, we will soon get over that dainty Difficulty: Upon which I haul'd him by the Sleeve into my Shifting-Room, he either staring, laughing, or hanging back all the way. There, when I had lock'd him in, I began to strip off my upper Cloaths, and bad him do the same; still he either did not, or would not seem to understand me, and continuing his Laugh, cry'd, What! is the Puppy mad? No, no, only positive, said I; for look you, in short, the Play is ready to begin, and the Parts that you and I are to act to Day are not of equal consequence; mine of young Reveller (in Greenwich-Park[32]) is but a Rake; but whatever you may be, you are not to appear so; therefore take my Shirt and give me yours; for depend upon't, stay here you shall not, and so go about your Business. To conclude, we fairly chang'd Linnen, nor could his Mother's have wrap'd him up more fortunately; for in about ten Days he marry'd the Lady.[33] In a Year or two after his Marriage he was chosen a Member of that Parliament which was sitting when King William dy'd. And, upon raising of some new Regiments, was made Lieutenant-Colonel to that of Sir Charles Hotham. But as his Ambition extended not beyond the Bounds of a Park Wall and a pleasant Retreat in the Corner of it, which with too much Expence he had just finish'd, he, within another Year, had leave to resign his Company to a younger Brother.

This was the Figure in Life he made when Sir Thomas Skipwith thought him the most proper Person to oblige (if it could be an Obligation) with the Present of his Interest in the Patent. And from these Anecdotes of my Intimacy with him, it may be less a Surprise, when he came to Town invested with this new Theatrical Power, that I should be the first Person to whom he took any Notice of it. And notwithstanding he knew I was then engag'd, in another Interest, at the Hay-Market, he desired we might consider together of the best Use he could make of it, assuring me at the same time he should think it of none to himself unless it could in some Shape be turn'd to my Advantage. This friendly Declaration, though it might be generous in him to make, was not needful to incline me in whatever might be honestly in my Power, whether by Interest or Negotiation, to serve him. My first Advice, therefore, was, That he should produce his Deed to the other Menaging Patentee of Drury-Lane, and demand immediate Entrance to a joint Possession of all Effects and Powers to which that Deed had given him an equal Title. After which, if he met with no Opposition to this Demand (as upon sight of it he did not) that he should be watchful against any Contradiction from his Collegue in whatever he might propose in carrying on the Affair, but to let him see that he was determin'd in all his Measures. Yet to heighten that Resolution with an Ease and Temper in his manner, as if he took it for granted there could be no Opposition made to whatever he had a mind to. For that this Method, added to his natural Talent of Persuading, would imperceptibly lead his Collegue into a Reliance on his superior Understanding, That however little he car'd for Business he should give himself the Air at least of Enquiry into what had been done, that what he intended to do might be thought more considerable and be the readier comply'd with: For if he once suffer'd his Collegue to seem wiser than himself, there would be no end of his perplexing him with absurd and dilatory Measures; direct and plain Dealing being a Quality his natural Diffidence would never suffer him to be Master of; of which his not complying with his Verbal Agreement with Swiney, when the Hay-Market House was taken for both their Uses, was an Evidence. And though some People thought it Depth and Policy in him to keep things often in Confusion, it was ever my Opinion they over-rated his Skill, and that, in reality, his Parts were too weak for his Post, in which he had always acted to the best of his Knowledge. That his late Collegue, Sir Thomas Skipwith, had trusted too much to his Capacity for this sort of Business, and was treated by him accordingly, without ever receiving any Profits from it for several Years: Insomuch that when he found his Interest in such desperate Hands he thought the best thing he could do with it was (as he saw) to give it away. Therefore if he (Mr. Brett) could once fix himself, as I had advis'd, upon a different Foot with this hitherto untractable Menager, the Business would soon run through whatever Channel he might have a mind to lead it. And though I allow'd the greatest Difficulty he would meet with would be in getting his Consent to a Union of the two Companies, which was the only Scheme that could raise the Patent to its former Value, and which I knew this close Menager would secretly lay all possible Rubs in the way to; yet it was visible there was a way of reducing him to Compliance: For though it was true his Caution would never part with a Straw by way of Concession, yet to a high Hand he would give up any thing, provided he were suffer'd to keep his Title to it: If his Hat were taken from his Head in the Street, he would make no farther Resistance than to say, I am not willing to part with it. Much less would he have the Resolution openly to oppose any just Measures, when he should find one, who with an equal Right to his and with a known Interest to bring them about, was resolv'd to go thro' with them.

Now though I knew my Friend was as thoroughly acquainted with this Patentee's Temper as myself, yet I thought it not amiss to quicken and support his Resolution, by confirming to him the little Trouble he would meet with, in pursuit of the Union I had advis'd him to; for it must be known that on our side Trouble was a sort of Physick we did not much care to take: But as the Fatigue of this Affair was likely to be lower'd by a good deal of Entertainment and Humour, which would naturally engage him in his dealing with so exotick a Partner, I knew that this softening the Business into a Diversion would lessen every Difficulty that lay in our way to it.

However copiously I may have indulg'd my self in this Commemoration of a Gentleman with whom I had pass'd so many of my younger Days with Pleasure, yet the Reader may by this Insight into his Character, and by that of the other Patentee, be better able to judge of the secret Springs that gave Motion to or obstructed so considerable an Event as that of the Re-union of the two Companies of Actors in 1708.[34] In Histories of more weight, for want of such Particulars we are often deceiv'd in the true Causes of Facts that most concern us to be let into; which sometimes makes us ascribe to Policy, or false Appearances of Wisdom, what perhaps in reality was the mere Effect of Chance or Humour.

Immediately after Mr. Brett was admitted as a joint Patentee, he made use of the Intimacy he had with the Vice-Chamberlain to assist his Scheme of this intended Union, in which he so far prevail'd that it was soon after left to the particular Care of the same Vice-Chamberlain to give him all the Aid and Power necessary to the bringing what he desired to Perfection. The Scheme was, to have but one Theatre for Plays and another for Operas, under separate Interests. And this the generality of Spectators, as well as the most approv'd Actors, had been some time calling for as the only Expedient to recover the Credit of the Stage and the valuable Interests of its Menagers.

As the Condition of the Comedians at this time is taken notice of in my Dedication of the Wife's Resentment to the Marquis (now Duke) of Kent, and then Lord-Chamberlain, which was publish'd above thirty Years ago,[35] when I had no thought of ever troubling the World with this Theatrical History, I see no Reason why it may not pass as a Voucher of the Facts I am now speaking of; I shall therefore give them in the very Light I then saw them. After some Acknowledgment for his Lordship's Protection of our (Hay-Market) Theatre, it is further said——

"The Stage has, for many Years, 'till of late, groan'd under the greatest Discouragements, which have been very much, if not wholly, owing to the Mismenagement of those that have aukwardly govern'd it. Great Sums have been ventur'd upon empty Projects and Hopes of immoderate Gains, and when those Hopes have fail'd, the Loss has been tyrannically deducted out of the Actors Sallary. And if your Lordship had not redeem'd them—This is meant of our being suffer'd to come over to Swiney——they were very near being wholly laid aside, or, at least, the Use of their Labour was to be swallow'd up in the pretended Merit of Singing and Dancing."

What follows relates to the Difficulties in dealing with the then impracticable Menager, viz.

"—And though your Lordship's Tenderness of oppressing is so very just that you have rather staid to convince a Man of your good Intentions to him than to do him even a Service against his Will; yet since your Lordship has so happily begun the Establishment of the separate Diversions, we live in hope that the same Justice and Resolution will still persuade you to go as successfully through with it. But while any Man is suffer'd to confound the Industry and Use of them by acting publickly in opposition to your Lordship's equal Intentions, under a false and intricate Pretence of not being able to comply with them, the Town is likely to be more entertain'd with the private Dissensions than the publick Performance of either, and the Actors in a perpetual Fear and Necessity of petitioning your Lordship every Season for new Relief."

Such was the State of the Stage immediately preceding the time of Mr. Brett's being admitted a joint Patentee, who, as he saw with clearer Eyes what was its evident Interest, left no proper Measures unattempted to make this so long despair'd-of Union practicable. The most apparent Difficulty to be got over in this Affair was, what could be done for Swiney in consideration of his being oblig'd to give up those Actors whom the Power and Choice of the Lord-Chamberlain had the Year before set him at the Head of, and by whose Menagement those Actors had found themselves in a prosperous Condition. But an Accident at this time happily contributed to make that Matter easy. The Inclination of our People of Quality for foreign Operas had now reach'd the Ears of Italy, and the Credit of their Taste had drawn over from thence, without any more particular Invitation, one of their capital Singers, the famous Signior Cavaliero Nicolini: From whose Arrival, and the Impatience of the Town to hear him, it was concluded that Operas being now so completely provided could not fail of Success, and that by making Swiney sole Director of them the Profits must be an ample Compensation for his Resignation of the Actors. This Matter being thus adjusted by Swiney's Acceptance of the Opera only to be perform'd at the Hay-Market House, the Actors were all order'd to return to Drury-Lane, there to remain (under the Patentees) her Majesty's only Company of Comedians.[36]


Ad Lalauze, sc

CHAPTER XII.

A short View of the Opera when first divided from the Comedy. Plays recover their Credit. The old Patentee uneasy at their Success. Why. The Occasion of Colonel Brett's throwing up his Share in the Patent. The Consequences of it. Anecdotes of Goodman the Actor. The Rate of favourite Actors in his Time. The Patentees, by endeavouring to reduce their Price, lose them all a second time. The principal Comedians return to the Hay-Market in Shares with Swiney. They alter that Theatre. The original and present Form of the Theatre in Drury-Lane compar'd. Operas fall off. The Occasion of it. Farther Observations upon them. The Patentee dispossess'd of Drury-Lane Theatre. Mr. Collier, with a new License, heads the Remains of that Company.

Plays and Operas being thus established upon separate Interests,[37] they were now left to make the best of their way into Favour by their different Merit. Although the Opera is not a Plant of our Native Growth, nor what our plainer Appetites are fond of, and is of so delicate a Nature that without excessive Charge it cannot live long among us; especially while the nicest Connoisseurs in Musick fall into such various Heresies in Taste, every Sect pretending to be the true one: Yet, as it is call'd a Theatrical Entertainment, and by its Alliance or Neutrality has more or less affected our Domestick Theatre, a short View of its Progress may be allow'd a Place in our History.

After this new Regulation the first Opera that appear'd was Pyrrhus. Subscriptions at that time were not extended, as of late, to the whole Season, but were limited to the first Six Days only of a new Opera. The chief Performers in this were Nicolini, Valentini, and Mrs. Tofts;[38] and for the inferior Parts the best that were then to be found. Whatever Praises may have been given to the most famous Voices that have been heard since Nicolini, upon the whole I cannot but come into the Opinion that still prevails among several Persons of Condition who are able to give a Reason for their liking, that no Singer since his Time has so justly and gracefully acquitted himself in whatever Character he appear'd as Nicolini. At most the Difference between him and the greatest Favourite of the Ladies, Farinelli, amounted but to this, that he might sometimes more exquisitely surprize us, but Nicolini (by pleasing the Eye as well as the Ear) fill'd us with a more various and rational Delight. Whether in this Excellence he has since had any Competitor, perhaps will be better judg'd by what the Critical Censor of Great Britain says of him in his 115th Tatler, viz.

"Nicolini sets off the Character he bears in an Opera by his Action, as much as he does the Words of it by his Voice; every Limb and Finger contributes to the Part he acts, insomuch that a deaf Man might go along with him in the Sense of it. There is scarce a beautiful Posture in an old Statue which he does not plant himself in, as the different Circumstances of the Story give occasion for it—He performs the most ordinary Action in a manner suitable to the Greatness of his Character, and shews the Prince even in the giving of a Letter or dispatching of a Message, &c."[39]

His Voice at this first time of being among us (for he made us a second Visit when it was impair'd) had all that strong, clear Sweetness of Tone so lately admir'd in Senesino. A blind Man could scarce have distinguish'd them; but in Volubility of Throat the former had much the Superiority. This so excellent Performer's Agreement was Eight Hundred Guineas for the Year, which is but an eighth Part more than half the Sum that has since been given to several that could never totally surpass him: The Consequence of which is, that the Losses by Operas, for several Seasons, to the End of the Year 1738, have been so great, that those Gentlemen of Quality who last undertook the Direction of them, found it ridiculous any longer to entertain the Publick at so extravagant an Expence, while no one particular Person thought himself oblig'd by it.

Mrs. Tofts,[40] who took her first Grounds of Musick here in her own Country, before the Italian Taste had so highly prevail'd, was then not an Adept in it:[41] Yet whatever Defect the fashionably Skilful might find in her manner, she had, in the general Sense of her Spectators, Charms that few of the most learned Singers ever arrive at. The Beauty of her fine proportion'd Figure, and exquisitely sweet, silver Tone of her Voice, with that peculiar, rapid Swiftness of her Throat, were Perfections not to be imitated by Art or Labour. Valentini I have already mention'd, therefore need only say farther of him, that though he was every way inferior to Nicolini,[42] yet, as he had the Advantage of giving us our first Impression of a good Opera Singer, he had still his Admirers, and was of great Service in being so skilful a Second to his Superior.


OWEN SWINEY.


Three such excellent Performers in the same kind of Entertainment at once, England till this Time had never seen: Without any farther Comparison, then, with the much dearer bought who have succeeded them, their Novelty at least was a Charm that drew vast Audiences of the fine World after them. Swiney, their sole Director, was prosperous, and in one Winter a Gainer by them of a moderate younger Brother's Fortune. But as Musick, by so profuse a Dispensation of her Beauties, could not always supply our dainty Appetites with equal Variety, nor for ever please us with the same Objects, the Opera, after one luxurious Season, like the fine Wife of a roving Husband, began to loose its Charms, and every Day discover'd to our Satiety Imperfections which our former Fondness had been blind to: But of this I shall observe more in its Place: in the mean time, let us enquire into the Productions of our native Theatre.

It may easily be conceiv'd, that by this entire Re-union of the two Companies Plays must generally have been perform'd to a more than usual Advantage and Exactness: For now every chief Actor, according to his particular Capacity, piqued himself upon rectifying those Errors which during their divided State were almost unavoidable. Such a Choice of Actors added a Richness to every good Play as it was then serv'd up to the publick Entertainment: The common People crowded to them with a more joyous Expectation, and those of the higher Taste return'd to them as to old Acquaintances, with new Desires after a long Absence. In a Word, all Parties seem'd better pleas'd but he who one might imagine had most Reason to be so, the (lately) sole menaging Patentee. He, indeed, saw his Power daily mould'ring from his own Hands into those of Mr. Brett,[43] whose Gentlemanly manner of making every one's Business easy to him, threw their old Master under a Disregard which he had not been us'd to, nor could with all his happy Change of Affairs support. Although this grave Theatrical Minister of whom I have been oblig'd to make such frequent mention, had acquired the Reputation of a most profound Politician by being often incomprehensible, yet I am not sure that his Conduct at this Juncture gave us not an evident Proof that he was, like other frail Mortals, more a Slave to his Passions than his Interest; for no Creature ever seem'd more fond of Power that so little knew how to use it to his Profit and Reputation; otherwise he could not possibly have been so discontented, in his secure and prosperous State of the Theatre, as to resolve at all Hazards to destroy it. We shall now see what infallible Measures he took to bring this laudable Scheme to Perfection.

He plainly saw that, as this disagreeable Prosperity was chiefly owing to the Conduct of Mr. Brett, there could be no hope of recovering the Stage to its former Confusion but by finding some effectual Means to make Mr. Brett weary of his Charge: The most probable he could for the Present think of, in this Distress, was to call in the Adventurers (whom for many Years, by his Defence in Law, he had kept out) now to take care of their visibly improving Interests.[44] This fair Appearance of Equity being known to be his own Proposal, he rightly guess'd would incline these Adventurers to form a Majority of Votes on his Side in all Theatrical Questions, and consequently become a Check upon the Power of Mr. Brett, who had so visibly alienated the Hearts of his Theatrical Subjects, and now began to govern without him. When the Adventurers, therefore, were re-admitted to their old Government, after having recommended himself to them by proposing to make some small Dividend of the Profits (though he did not design that Jest should be repeated) he took care that the Creditors of the Patent, who were then no inconsiderable Body, should carry off the every Weeks clear Profits in proportion to their several Dues and Demands. This Conduct, so speciously just, he had Hopes would let Mr. Brett see that his Share in the Patent was not so valuable an Acquisition as perhaps he might think it; and probably make a Man of his Turn to Pleasure soon weary of the little Profit and great Plague it gave him. Now, though these might be all notable Expedients, yet I cannot say they would have wholly contributed to Mr. Brett's quitting his Post, had not a Matter of much stronger Moment, an unexpected Dispute between him and Sir Thomas Skipwith, prevailed with him to lay it down: For in the midst of this flourishing State of the Patent, Mr. Brett was surpriz'd with a Subpœna into Chancery from Sir Thomas Skipwith, who alledg'd in his Bill that the Conveyance he had made of his Interest in the Patent to Mr. Brett was only intended in Trust. (Whatever the Intent might be, the Deed it self, which I then read, made no mention of any Trust whatever.) But whether Mr. Brett, as Sir Thomas farther asserted, had previously, or after the Deed was sign'd, given his Word of Honour that if he should ever make the Stage turn to any Account or Profit, he would certainly restore it: That, indeed, I can say nothing to; but be the Deed valid or void, the Facts that apparently follow'd were, that tho' Mr. Brett in his Answer to this Bill absolutely deny'd his receiving this Assignment either in Trust or upon any limited Condition of what kind soever, yet he made no farther Defence in the Cause. But since he found Sir Thomas had thought fit on any Account to sue for the Restitution of it, and Mr. Brett being himself conscious that, as the World knew he had paid no Consideration for it, his keeping it might be misconstrued, or not favourably spoken of; or perhaps finding, tho' the Profits were great, they were constantly swallowed up (as has been observ'd) by the previous Satisfaction of old Debts, he grew so tir'd of the Plague and Trouble the whole Affair had given him, and was likely still to engage him in, that in a few Weeks after he withdrew himself from all Concern with the Theatre, and quietly left Sir Thomas to find his better Account in it. And thus stood this undecided Right till, upon the Demise of Sir Thomas, Mr. Brett being allow'd the Charges he had been at in this Attendance and Prosecution of the Union, reconvey'd this Share of the Patent to Sir George Skipwith, the Son and Heir of Sir Thomas.[45]

Our Politician, the old Patentee, having thus fortunately got rid of Mr. Brett, who had so rashly brought the Patent once more to be a profitable Tenure, was now again at Liberty to chuse rather to lose all than not to have it all to himself.

I have elsewhere observ'd that nothing can so effectually secure the Strength, or contribute to the Prosperity of a good Company, as the Directors of it having always, as near as possible, an amicable Understanding with three or four of their best Actors, whose good or ill-will must naturally make a wide Difference in their profitable or useless manner of serving them: While the Principal are kept reasonably easy the lower Class can never be troublesome without hurting themselves: But when a valuable Actor is hardly treated, the Master must be a very cunning Man that finds his Account in it. We shall now see how far Experience will verify this Observation.

The Patentees thinking themselves secure in being restor'd to their former absolute Power over this now only Company, chose rather to govern it by the Reverse of the Method I have recommended: For tho' the daily Charge of their united Company amounted not, by a good deal, to what either of the two Companies now in Drury-Lane or Covent-Garden singly arises, they notwithstanding fell into their former Politicks of thinking every Shilling taken from a hired Actor so much clear Gain to the Proprietor: Many of their People, therefore, were actually, if not injudiciously, reduced in their Pay, and others given to understand the same Fate was design'd them; of which last Number I my self was one; which occurs to my Memory by the Answer I made to one of the Adventurers, who, in Justification of their intended Proceeding,[46] told me that my Sallary, tho' it should be less than it was by ten Shillings a Week, would still be more than ever Goodman had, who was a better Actor than I could pretend to be: To which I reply'd, This may be true, but then you know, Sir, it is as true that Goodman was forced to go upon the High-way for a Livelihood. As this was a known Fact of Goodman, my mentioning it on that Occasion I believe was of Service to me; at least my Sallary was not reduced after it. To say a Word or two more of Goodman, so celebrated an Actor in his Time, perhaps may set the Conduct of the Patentees in a clearer Light. Tho' Goodman had left the Stage before I came to it, I had some slight Acquaintance with him. About the Time of his being expected to be an Evidence against Sir John Fenwick in the Assassination-Plot,[47] in 1696, I happen'd to meet him at Dinner at Sir Thomas Skipwith's, who, as he was an agreeable Companion himself, liked Goodman for the same Quality. Here it was that Goodman, without Disguise or sparing himself, fell into a laughing Account of several loose Passages of his younger Life; as his being expell'd the University of Cambridge for being one of the hot-headed Sparks who were concern'd in the cutting and defacing the Duke of Monmouth's Picture, then Chancellor of that Place. But this Disgrace, it seems, had not disqualified him for the Stage, which, like the Sea-Service, refuses no Man for his Morals that is able-bodied: There, as an Actor, he soon grew into a different Reputation; but whatever his Merit might be, the Pay of a hired Hero in those Days was so very low that he was forced, it seems, to take the Air (as he call'd it) and borrow what Money the first Man he met had about him. But this being his first Exploit of that kind which the Scantiness of his Theatrical Fortune had reduced him to, King James was prevail'd upon to pardon him: Which Goodman said was doing him so particular an Honour that no Man could wonder if his Acknowledgment had carried him a little farther than ordinary into the Interest of that Prince: But as he had lately been out of Luck in backing his old Master, he had now no way to get home the Life he was out upon his Account but by being under the same Obligations to King William.

Another Anecdote of him, though not quite so dishonourably enterprizing, which I had from his own Mouth at a different Time, will equally shew to what low Shifts in Life the poor Provision for good Actors, under the early Government of the Patent, reduced them. In the younger Days of their Heroism, Captain Griffin and Goodman were confined by their moderate Sallaries to the Oeconomy of lying together in the same Bed and having but one whole Shirt between them: One of them being under the Obligation of a Rendezvous with a fair Lady, insisted upon his wearing it out of his Turn, which occasion'd so high a Dispute that the Combat was immediately demanded, and accordingly their Pretensions to it were decided by a fair Tilt upon the Spot, in the Room where they lay: But whether Clytus or Alexander was obliged to see no Company till a worse could be wash'd for him, seems not to be a material Point in their History, or to my Purpose.[48]

By this Rate of Goodman, who, 'till the Time of his quitting the Stage never had more than what is call'd forty Shillings a Week, it may be judg'd how cheap the Labour of Actors had been formerly; and the Patentees thought it a Folly to continue the higher Price, (which their Divisions had since raised them to) now there was but one Market for them; but alas! they had forgot their former fatal Mistake of squabbling with their Actors in 1695;[49] nor did they make any Allowance for the Changes and Operations of Time, or enough consider the Interest the Actors had in the Lord Chamberlain, on whose Protection they might always rely, and whose Decrees had been less restrain'd by Precedent than those of a Lord Chancellor.

In this mistaken View of their Interest, the Patentees, by treating their Actors as Enemies, really made them so: And when once the Masters of a hired Company think not their Actors Hearts as necessary as their Hands, they cannot be said to have agreed for above half the Work they are able to do in a Day: Or, if an unexpected Success should, notwithstanding, make the Profits in any gross Disproportion greater than the Wages, the Wages will always have something worse than a Murmur at the Head of them, that will not only measure the Merit of the Actor by the Gains of the Proprietor, but will never naturally be quiet till every Scheme of getting into Property has been tried to make the Servant his own Master: And this, as far as Experience can make me judge, will always be in either of these Cases the State of our English Theatre. What Truth there may be in this Observation we are now coming to a Proof of.

To enumerate all the particular Acts of Power in which the Patentees daily bore hard upon this now only Company of Actors, might be as tedious as unnecessary; I shall therefore come at once to their most material Grievance, upon which they grounded their Complaint to the Lord Chamberlain, who, in the Year following, 1709, took effectual Measures for their Relief.

The Patentees observing that the Benefit-Plays of the Actors towards the latter End of the Season brought the most crowded Audiences in the Year, began to think their own Interests too much neglected by these partial Favours of the Town to their Actors; and therefore judg'd it would not be impolitick in such wholesome annual Profits to have a Fellow-feeling with them. Accordingly an Indulto[50] was laid of one Third out of the Profits of every Benefit for the proper Use and Behoof of the Patent.[51] But that a clear Judgment may be form'd of the Equity or Hardship of this Imposition, it will be necessary to shew from whence and from what Causes the Actors Claim to Benefits originally proceeded.

During the Reign of King Charles an Actor's Benefit had never been heard of. The first Indulgence of this kind was given to Mrs. Barry (as has been formerly observed[52]) in King James's Time, in Consideration of the extraordinary Applause that had followed her Performance: But there this Favour rested to her alone, 'till after the Division of the only Company in 1695, at which time the Patentees were soon reduced to pay their Actors half in good Words and half in ready Money. In this precarious Condition some particular Actors (however binding their Agreements might be) were too poor or too wise to go to Law with a Lawyer, and therefore rather chose to compound their Arrears for their being admitted to the Chance of having them made up by the Profits of a Benefit-Play. This Expedient had this Consequence; that the Patentees, tho' their daily Audiences might, and did sometimes mend, still kept the short Subsistance of their Actors at a stand, and grew more steady in their Resolution so to keep them, as they found them less apt to mutiny while their Hopes of being clear'd off by a Benefit were depending. In a Year or two these Benefits grew so advantageous that they became at last the chief Article in every Actor's Agreement.

Now though the Agreements of these united Actors I am speaking of in 1708 were as yet only Verbal, yet that made no difference in the honest Obligation to keep them: But as Honour at that time happen'd to have but a loose hold of their Consciences, the Patentees rather chose to give it the slip, and went on with their Work without it. No Actor, therefore, could have his Benefit fix'd 'till he had first sign'd a Paper signifying his voluntary Acceptance of it upon the above Conditions, any Claims from Custom to the contrary notwithstanding. Several at first refus'd to sign this Paper; upon which the next in Rank were offer'd on the same Conditions to come before the Refusers; this smart Expedient got some few of the Fearful the Preference to their Seniors; who, at last, seeing the Time was too short for a present Remedy, and that they must either come into the Boat or lose their Tide, were forc'd to comply with what they as yet silently resented as the severest Injury. In this Situation, therefore, they chose to let the principal Benefits be over, that their Grievances might swell into some bulk before they made any Application for Redress to the Lord-Chamberlain; who, upon hearing their general Complaint, order'd the Patentees to shew cause why their Benefits had been diminish'd one Third, contrary to the common Usage? The Patentees pleaded the sign'd Agreement, and the Actors Receipts of the other two Thirds, in Full Satisfaction. But these were prov'd to have been exacted from them by the Methods already mentioned. They notwithstanding insist upon them as lawful. But as Law and Equity do not always agree, they were look'd upon as unjust and arbitrary. Whereupon the Patentees were warn'd at their Peril to refuse the Actors full Satisfaction.[53] But here it was thought necessary that Judgment should be for some time respited, 'till the Actors, who had leave so to do, could form a Body strong enough to make the Inclination of the Lord-Chamberlain to relieve them practicable.

Accordingly Swiney (who was then sole Director of the Opera only) had Permission to enter into a private Treaty with such of the united Actors in Drury-Lane as might be thought fit to head a Company under their own Menagement, and to be Sharers with him in the Hay-Market. The Actors chosen for this Charge were Wilks, Dogget, Mrs. Oldfield, and Myself. But before I proceed, lest it should seem surprizing that neither Betterton, Mrs. Barry, Mrs. Bracegirdle, or Booth were Parties in this Treaty, it must be observ'd that Betterton was now Seventy-three, and rather chose, with the Infirmities of Age upon him, to rely on such Sallary as might be appointed him, than to involve himself in the Cares and Hurry that must unavoidably attend the Regulation of a new Company. As to the two celebrated Actresses I have named, this has been my first proper Occasion of making it known that they had both quitted the Stage the Year before this Transaction was thought of.[54] And Booth as yet was scarce out of his Minority as an Actor, or only in the Promise of that Reputation which, in about four or five Years after, he happily arriv'd at. However, at this Juncture he was not so far overlook'd as not to be offer'd a valuable Addition to his Sallary: But this he declin'd, being, while the Patentees were under this Distress, as much, if not more, in favour with their chief Menager as a Schematist than as an Actor: And indeed he appear'd, to my Judgment, more inclin'd to risque his Fortune in Drury-Lane, where he should have no Rival in Parts or Power, than on any Terms to embark in the Hay-Market, where he was sure to meet with Opponents in both.[55] However, this his Separation from our Interest when our All was at stake, afterwards kept his Advancement to a Share with us in our more successful Days longer postpon'd than otherwise it probably might have been.

When Mrs. Oldfield was nominated as a joint Sharer in our new Agreement to be made with Swiney, Dogget, who had no Objection to her Merit, insisted that our Affairs could never be upon a secure Foundation if there was more than one Sex admitted to the Menagement of them. He therefore hop'd that if we offer'd Mrs. Oldfield a Carte Blanche instead of a Share, she would not think herself slighted. This was instantly agreed to, and Mrs. Oldfield receiv'd it rather as a Favour than a Disobligation: Her Demands therefore were Two Hundred Pounds a Year certain, and a Benefit clear of all Charges, which were readily sign'd to. Her Easiness on this Occasion, some Years after, when our Establishment was in Prosperity, made us with less Reluctancy advance her Two Hundred Pounds to Three Hundred Guineas per Annum, with her usual Benefit, which, upon an Average, for several Years at least doubled that Sum.


ANNE OLDFIELD.


When a sufficient number of Actors were engag'd under our Confederacy with Swiney, it was then judg'd a proper time for the Lord-Chamberlain's Power to operate, which, by lying above a Month dormant, had so far recover'd the Patentees from any Apprehensions of what might fall upon them from their late Usurpations on the Benefits of the Actors, that they began to set their Marks upon those who had distinguish'd themselves in the Application for Redress. Several little Disgraces were put upon them, particularly in the Disposal of Parts in Plays to be reviv'd, and as visible a Partiality was shewn in the Promotion of those in their Interest, though their Endeavours to serve them could be of no extraordinary use. How often does History shew us, in the same State of Courts, the same Politicks have been practis'd? All this while the other Party were passively silent, 'till one Day the Actor who particularly solicited their Cause at the Lord-Chamberlain's Office, being shewn there the Order sign'd for absolutely silencing the Patentees, and ready to be serv'd, flew back with the News to his Companions, then at a Rehearsal in which he had been wanted; when being call'd to his Part, and something hastily question'd by the Patentee for his Neglect of Business: This Actor, I say, with an erected Look and a Theatrical Spirit, at once threw off the Mask and roundly told him——Sir, I have now no more Business Here than you have; in half an Hour you will neither have Actors to command nor Authority to employ them.——The Patentee, who though he could not readily comprehend his mysterious manner of Speaking, had just a Glimpse of Terror enough from the Words to soften his Reproof into a cold formal Declaration, That if he would not do his Work he should not be paid.—But now, to complete the Catastrophe of these Theatrical Commotions, enters the Messenger with the Order of Silence in his Hand, whom the same Actor officiously introduc'd, telling the Patentee that the Gentleman wanted to speak with him from the Lord-Chamberlain. When the Messenger had delivered the Order, the Actor, throwing his Head over his Shoulder towards the Patentee, in the manner of Shakespear's Harry the Eighth to Cardinal Wolsey, cry'd—Read o'er that! and now—to Breakfast, with what Appetite you may. Tho' these Words might be spoken in too vindictive and insulting a manner to be commended, yet, from the Fulness of a Heart injuriously treated and now reliev'd by that instant Occasion, why might they not be pardon'd?[56]

The Authority of the Patent now no longer subsisting, all the confederated Actors immediately walk'd out of the House, to which they never return'd 'till they became themselves the Tenants and Masters of it.

Here agen we see an higher Instance of the Authority of a Lord-Chamberlain than any of those I have e lsewhere mentioned: From whence that Power might be deriv'd, as I have already said, I am not Lawyer enough to know; however, it is evident that a Lawyer obey'd it, though to his Cost; which might incline one to think that the Law was not clearly against it: Be that as it may, since the Law has lately made it no longer a Question, let us drop the Enquiry and proceed to the Facts which follow'd this Order that silenc'd the Patent.

From this last injudicious Disagreement of the Patentees with their principal Actors, and from what they had suffered on the same Occasion in the Division of their only Company in 1695, might we not imagine there was something of Infatuation in their Menagement? For though I allow Actors in general, when they are too much indulg'd, or govern'd by an unsteady Head, to be as unruly a Multitude as Power can be plagued with; yet there is a Medium which, if cautiously observed by a candid use of Power, making them always know, without feeling, their Superior, neither suffering their Encroachments nor invading their Rights, with an immoveable Adherence to the accepted Laws they are to walk by; such a Regulation, I say, has never fail'd, in my Observation, to have made them a tractable and profitable Society. If the Government of a well-establish'd Theatre were to be compar'd to that of a Nation, there is no one Act of Policy or Misconduct in the one or the other in which the Menager might not, in some parallel Case, (laugh, if you please) be equally applauded or condemned with the Statesman. Perhaps this will not be found so wild a Conceit if you look into the 193d Tatler, Vol. 4. where the Affairs of the State and those of the very Stage which I am now treating of, are, in a Letter from Downs the Promptor,[57] compar'd, and with a great deal of Wit and Humour, set upon an equal Foot of Policy. The Letter is suppos'd to have been written in the last Change of the Ministry in Queen Anne's Time. I will therefore venture, upon the Authority of that Author's Imagination, to carry the Comparison as high as it can possibly go, and say, That as I remember one of our Princes in the last Century to have lost his Crown by too arbitrary a Use of his Power, though he knew how fatal the same Measures had been to his unhappy Father before him, why should we wonder that the same Passions taking Possession of Men in lower Life, by an equally impolitick Usage of their Theatrical Subjects, should have involved the Patentees in proportionable Calamities.

During the Vacation, which immediately follow'd the Silence of the Patent, both Parties were at leisure to form their Schemes for the Winter: For the Patentee would still hold out, notwithstanding his being so miserably maim'd or over-match'd: He had no more Regard to Blows than a blind Cock of the Game; he might be beaten, but would never yield; the Patent was still in his Possession, and the Broad-Seal to it visibly as fresh as ever: Besides, he had yet some Actors in his Service,[58] at a much cheaper Rate than those who had left him, the Sallaries of which last, now they would not work for him, he was not oblig'd to pay.[59] In this way of thinking, he still kept together such as had not been invited over to the Hay-Market, or had been influenc'd by Booth to follow his Fortune in Drury-Lane.

By the Patentee's keeping these Remains of his broken Forces together, it is plain that he imagin'd this Order of Silence, like others of the same Kind, would be recall'd, of course, after a reasonable time of Obedience had been paid to it: But, it seems, he had rely'd too much upon former Precedents; nor had his Politicks yet div'd into the Secret that the Court Power, with which the Patent had been so long and often at variance, had now a mind to take the publick Diversions more absolutely into their own Hands: Not that I have any stronger Reasons for this Conjecture than that the Patent never after this Order of Silence got leave to play during the Queen's Reign. But upon the Accession of his late Majesty, Power having then a different Aspect, the Patent found no Difficulty in being permitted to exercise its former Authority for acting Plays, &c. which, however, from this time of their lying still, in 1709, did not happen 'till 1714, which the old Patentee never liv'd to see: For he dy'd about six weeks before the new-built Theatre in Lincoln's-Inn-Fields was open'd,[60] where the first Play acted was the Recruiting Officer, under the Menagement of his Heirs and Successors. But of that Theatre it is not yet time to give any further Account.

The first Point resolv'd on by the Comedians now re-established in the Hay-Market,[61] was to alter the Auditory Part of their Theatre, the Inconveniencies of which have been fully enlarged upon in a former Chapter. What embarrass'd them most in this Design, was their want of Time to do it in a more complete manner than it now remains in, otherwise they had brought it to the original Model of that in Drury-Lane, only in a larger Proportion, as the wider Walls of it would require; as there are not many Spectators who may remember what Form the Drury-Lane Theatre stood in about forty Years ago, before the old Patentee, to make it hold more Money, took it in his Head to alter it, it were but Justice to lay the original Figure which Sir Christopher Wren first gave it, and the Alterations of it now standing, in a fair Light; that equal Spectators may see, if they were at their choice, which of the Structures would incline them to a Preference. But in this Appeal I only speak to such Spectators as allow a good Play well acted to be the most valuable Entertainment of the Stage. Whether such Plays (leaving the Skill of the dead or living Actors equally out of the Question) have been more or less recommended in their Presentation by either of these different Forms of that Theatre, is our present Matter of Enquiry.

It must be observ'd, then,[62] that the Area or Platform of the old Stage projected about four Foot forwarder, in a Semi-oval Figure, parallel to the Benches of the Pit; and that the former lower Doors of Entrance for the Actors were brought down between the two foremost (and then only) Pilasters; in the Place of which Doors now the two Stage-Boxes are fixt. That where the Doors of Entrance now are, there formerly stood two additional Side-Wings, in front to a full Set of Scenes, which had then almost a double Effect in their Loftiness and Magnificence.

By this Original Form, the usual Station of the Actors, in almost every Scene, was advanc'd at least ten Foot nearer to the Audience than they now can be; because, not only from the Stage's being shorten'd in front, but likewise from the additional Interposition of those Stage-Boxes, the Actors (in respect to the Spectators that fill them) are kept so much more backward from the main Audience than they us'd to be: But when the Actors were in Possession of that forwarder Space to advance upon, the Voice was then more in the Centre of the House, so that the most distant Ear had scarce the least Doubt or Difficulty in hearing what fell from the weakest Utterance: All Objects were thus drawn nearer to the Sense; every painted Scene was stronger; every grand Scene and Dance more extended; every rich or fine-coloured Habit had a more lively Lustre: Nor was the minutest Motion of a Feature (properly changing with the Passion or Humour it suited) ever lost, as they frequently must be in the Obscurity of too great a Distance: And how valuable an Advantage the Facility of hearing distinctly is to every well-acted Scene, every common Spectator is a Judge. A Voice scarce raised above the Tone of a Whisper, either in Tenderness, Resignation, innocent Distress, or Jealousy suppress'd, often have as much concern with the Heart as the most clamorous Passions; and when on any of these Occasions such affecting Speeches are plainly heard, or lost, how wide is the Difference from the great or little Satisfaction received from them? To all this a Master of a Company may say, I now receive Ten Pounds more than could have been taken formerly in every full House! Not unlikely. But might not his House be oftener full if the Auditors were oftener pleas'd? Might not every bad House too, by a Possibility of being made every Day better, add as much to one Side of his Account as it could take from the other? If what I have said carries any Truth in it, why might not the original Form of this Theatre be restor'd? but let this Digression avail what it may, the Actors now return'd to the Hay-Market, as I have observ'd, wanting nothing but length of Time to have govern'd their Alteration of that Theatre by this original Model of Drury-Lane which I have recommended. As their time therefore was short, they made their best use of it; they did something to it: They contracted its Wideness by three Ranges of Boxes on each side, and brought down its enormous high Ceiling within so proportionable a Compass that it effectually cur'd those hollow Undulations of the Voice formerly complain'd of. The Remedy had its Effect; their Audiences exceeded their Expectation. There was now no other Theatre open against them;[63] they had the Town to themselves; they were their own Masters, and the Profits of their Industry came into their own Pockets.


THEOPHILUS CIBBER AS ANTIENT PISTOL.


Yet with all this fair Weather, the Season of their uninterrupted Prosperity was not yet arriv'd; for the great Expence and thinner Audiences of the Opera (of which they then were equally Directors) was a constant Drawback upon their Gains, yet not so far but that their Income this Year was better than in their late Station at Drury-Lane. But by the short Experience we had then had of Operas; by the high Reputation they seem'd to have been arriv'd at the Year before; by their Power of drawing the whole Body of Nobility as by Enchantment to their Solemnities; by that Prodigality of Expence at which they were so willing to support them; and from the late extraordinary Profits Swiney had made of them, what Mountains did we not hope from this Molehill? But alas! the fairy Vision was vanish'd; this bridal Beauty was grown familiar to the general Taste, and Satiety began to make Excuses for its want of Appetite: Or, what is still stranger, its late Admirers now as much valued their Judgment in being able to find out the Faults of the Performers, as they had before in discovering their Excellencies. The Truth is, that this kind of Entertainment being so entirely sensual, it had no Possibility of getting the better of our Reason but by its Novelty; and that Novelty could never be supported but by an annual Change of the best Voices, which, like the finest Flowers, bloom but for a Season, and when that is over are only dead Nose-gays. From this Natural Cause we have seen within these two Years even Farinelli singing to an Audience of five and thirty Pounds, and yet, if common Fame may be credited, the same Voice, so neglected in one Country, has in another had Charms sufficient to make that Crown sit easy on the Head of a Monarch, which the Jealousy of Politicians (who had their Views in his keeping it) fear'd, without some such extraordinary Amusement, his Satiety of Empire might tempt him a second time to resign.[64]

There is, too, in the very Species of an Italian Singer such an innate, fantastical Pride and Caprice, that the Government of them (here at least) is almost impracticable. This Distemper, as we were not sufficiently warn'd or apprized of, threw our musical Affairs into Perplexities we knew not easily how to get out of. There is scarce a sensible Auditor in the Kingdom that has not since that Time had Occasion to laugh at the several Instances of it: But what is still more ridiculous, these costly Canary-Birds have sometimes infested the whole Body of our dignified Lovers of Musick with the same childish Animosities: Ladies have been known to decline their Visits upon account of their being of a different musical Party. Cæsar and Pompey made not a warmer Division in the Roman Republick than those Heroines, their Country Women, the Faustina and Cuzzoni, blew up in our Common-wealth of Academical Musick by their implacable Pretensions to Superiority.[65] And while this Greatness of Soul is their unalterable Virtue, it will never be practicable to make two capital Singers of the same Sex do as they should do in one Opera at the same time! no, not tho' England were to double the Sums it has already thrown after them: For even in their own Country, where an extraordinary Occasion has called a greater Number of their best to sing together, the Mischief they have made has been proportionable; an Instance of which, if I am rightly inform'd, happen'd at Parma, where, upon the Celebration of the Marriage of that Duke, a Collection was made of the most eminent Voices that Expence or Interest could purchase, to give as complete an Opera as the whole vocal Power of Italy could form. But when it came to the Proof of this musical Project, behold! what woful Work they made of it! every Performer would be a Cæsar or Nothing; their several Pretensions to Preference were not to be limited within the Laws of Harmony; they would all choose their own Songs, but not more to set off themselves than to oppose or deprive another of an Occasion to shine: Yet any one would sing a bad Song, provided no body else had a good one, till at last they were thrown together, like so many feather'd Warriors, for a Battle-royal in a Cock-pit, where every one was oblig'd to kill another to save himself! What Pity it was these froward Misses and Masters of Musick had not been engag'd to entertain the Court of some King of Morocco, that could have known a good Opera from a bad one! with how much Ease would such a Director have brought them to better Order? But alas! as it has been said of greater Things,

Suis et ipsa Roma viribus ruit.
Hor.[66]

Imperial Rome fell by the too great Strength of its own Citizens! So fell this mighty Opera, ruin'd by the too great Excellency of its Singers! For, upon the whole, it proved to be as barbarously bad as if Malice it self had composed it.

Now though something of this kind, equally provoking, has generally embarrass'd the State of Operas these thirty Years, yet it was the Misfortune of the menaging Actors at the Hay-Market to have felt the first Effects of it: The Honour of the Singer and the Interest of the Undertaker were so often at Variance, that the latter began to have but a bad Bargain of it. But not to impute more to the Caprice of those Performers than was really true, there were two different Accidents that drew Numbers from our Audiences before the Season was ended; which were another Company permitted to act in Drury-Lane,[67] and the long Trial of Doctor Sacheverel in Westminster-Hall:[68] By the way, it must be observed that this Company was not under the Direction of the Patent (which continued still silenced) but was set up by a third Interest, with a License from Court. The Person to whom this new License was granted was William Collier, Esq., a Lawyer of an enterprizing Head and a jovial Heart; what sort of Favour he was in with the People then in Power may be judg'd from his being often admitted to partake with them those detach'd Hours of Life when Business was to give way to Pleasure: But this was not all his Merit, he was at the same time a Member of Parliament for Truro in Cornwall, and we cannot suppose a Person so qualified could be refused such a Trifle as a License to head a broken Company of Actors. This sagacious Lawyer, then, who had a Lawyer to deal with, observing that his Antagonist kept Possession of a Theatre without making use of it, and for which he was not obliged to pay Rent unless he actually did use it, wisely conceived it might be the Interest of the joint Landlords, since their Tenement was in so precarious a Condition, to grant a Lease to one who had an undisputed Authority to be liable, by acting Plays in it, to pay the Rent of it; especially when he tempted them with an Offer of raising it from three to four Pounds per Diem. His Project succeeded, the Lease was sign'd; but the Means of getting into Possession were to be left to his own Cost and Discretion. This took him up but little Time; he immediately laid Siege to it with a sufficient Number of Forces, whether lawless or lawful I forget, but they were such as obliged the old Governor to give it up; who, notwithstanding, had got Intelligence of his Approaches and Design time enough to carry off every thing that was worth moving, except a great Number of old Scenes and new Actors that could not easily follow him.[69]

A ludicrous Account of this Transaction, under fictitious Names, may be found in the 99th Tatler, Vol. 2. which this Explanation may now render more intelligible to the Readers of that agreeable Author.[70]

This other new License being now in Possession of the Drury-Lane Theatre, those Actors whom the Patentee ever since the Order of Silence had retain'd in a State of Inaction, all to a Man came over to the Service of Collier. Of these Booth was then the chief.[71] The Merit of the rest had as yet made no considerable Appearance, and as the Patentee had not left a Rag of their Cloathing behind him, they were but poorly equip'd for a publick Review; consequently at their first Opening they were very little able to annoy us. But during the Trial of Sacheverel our Audiences were extremely weaken'd by the better Rank of People's daily attending it: While, at the same time, the lower Sort, who were not equally admitted to that grand Spectacle, as eagerly crowded into Drury-Lane to a new Comedy call'd The fair Quaker of Deal. This Play having some low Strokes of natural Humour in it, was rightly calculated for the Capacity of the Actors who play'd it, and to the Taste of the Multitude who were now more disposed and at leisure to see it:[72] But the most happy Incident in its Fortune was the Charm of the fair Quaker which was acted by Miss Santlow, (afterwards Mrs. Booth) whose Person was then in the full Bloom of what Beauty she might pretend to: Before this she had only been admired as the most excellent Dancer, which perhaps might not a little contribute to the favourable Reception she now met with as an Actress, in this Character which so happily suited her Figure and Capacity: The gentle Softness of her Voice, the composed Innocence of her Aspect, the Modesty of her Dress, the reserv'd Decency of her Gesture, and the Simplicity of the Sentiments that naturally fell from her, made her seem the amiable Maid she represented: In a Word, not the enthusiastick Maid of Orleans was more serviceable of old to the French Army when the English had distressed them, than this fair Quaker was at the Head of that dramatick Attempt upon which the Support of their weak Society depended.[73]

But when the Trial I have mention'd and the Run of this Play was over, the Tide of the Town beginning to turn again in our Favour, Collier was reduced to give his Theatrical Affairs a different Scheme; which advanced the Stage another Step towards that Settlement which, in my Time, was of the longest Duration.


Ad Lalauze, sc

CHAPTER XIII.

The Patentee, having now no Actors, rebuilds the new Theatre in Lincolns-Inn-Fields. A Guess at his Reasons for it. More Changes in the State of the Stage. The Beginning of its better Days under the Triumvirate of Actors. A Sketch of their governing Characters.

As coarse Mothers may have comely Children, so Anarchy has been the Parent of many a good Government; and by a Parity of possible Consequences, we shall find that from the frequent Convulsions of the Stage arose at last its longest Settlement and Prosperity; which many of my Readers (or if I should happen to have but few of them, many of my Spectators at least) who I hope have not yet liv'd half their Time, will be able to remember.

Though the Patent had been often under Distresses, it had never felt any Blow equal to this unrevoked Order of Silence; which it is not easy to conceive could have fallen upon any other Person's Conduct than that of the old Patentee: For if he was conscious of his being under the Subjection of that Power which had silenc'd him, why would he incur the Danger of a Suspension by his so obstinate and impolitick Treatment of his Actors? If he thought such Power over him illegal, how came he to obey it now more than before, when he slighted a former Order that injoin'd him to give his Actors their Benefits on their usual Conditions?[74] But to do him Justice, the same Obstinacy that involv'd him in these Difficulties, at last preserv'd to his Heirs the Property of the Patent in its full Force and Value;[75] yet to suppose that he foresaw a milder use of Power in some future Prince's Reign might be more favourable to him, is begging at best but a cold Question. But whether he knew that this broken Condition of the Patent would not make his troublesome Friends the Adventurers fly from it as from a falling House, seems not so difficult a Question. However, let the Reader form his own Judgment of them from the Facts that follow'd: It must therefore be observ'd, that the Adventurers seldom came near the House but when there was some visible Appearance of a Dividend: But I could never hear that upon an ill Run of Audiences they had ever returned or brought in a single Shilling, to make good the Deficiencies of their daily Receipts. Therefore, as the Patentee in Possession had alone, for several Years, supported and stood against this Uncertainty of Fortune, it may be imagin'd that his Accounts were under so voluminous a Perplexity that few of those Adventurers would have Leisure or Capacity enough to unravel them: And as they had formerly thrown away their Time and Money at law in a fruitless Enquiry into them, they now seem'd to have intirely given up their Right and Interest: And, according to my best Information, notwithstanding the subsequent Gains of the Patent have been sometimes extraordinary, the farther Demands or Claims of Right of the Adventurers have lain dormant above these five and twenty Years.[76]

Having shewn by what means Collier had dispossess'd this Patentee, not only of the Drury-Lane House, but likewise of those few Actors which he had kept for some time unemploy'd in it, we are now led to consider another Project of the same Patentee, which, if we are to judge of it by the Event, has shewn him more a Wise than a Weak Man; which I confess at the time he put it in Execution seem'd not so clear a Point: For notwithstanding he now saw the Authority and Power of his Patent was superseded, or was at best but precarious, and that he had not one Actor left in his Service, yet, under all these Dilemma's and Distresses, he resolv'd upon rebuilding the New Theatre in Lincolns-Inn-Fields, of which he had taken a Lease, at a low Rent, ever since Betterton's Company had first left it.[77] This Conduct seem'd too deep for my Comprehension! What are we to think of his taking this Lease in the height of his Prosperity, when he could have no Occasion for it? Was he a Prophet? Could he then foresee he should, one time or other, be turn'd out of Drury-Lane? Or did his mere Appetite of Architecture urge him to build a House, while he could not be sure he should ever have leave to make use of it? But of all this we may think as we please; whatever was his Motive, he, at his own Expence, in this Interval of his having nothing else to do, rebuilt that Theatre from the Ground, as it is now standing.[78] As for the Order of Silence, he seem'd little concern'd at it while it gave him so much uninterrupted Leisure to supervise a Work which he naturally took Delight in.

After this Defeat of the Patentee, the Theatrical Forces of Collier in Drury-Lane, notwithstanding their having drawn the Multitude after them for about three Weeks during the Trial of Sacheverel, had made but an indifferent Campaign at the end of the Season. Collier at least found so little Account in it, that it obliged him to push his Court-Interest (which, wherever the Stage was concern'd, was not inconsiderable) to support him in another Scheme; which was, that in consideration of his giving up the Drury-Lane, Cloaths, Scenes, and Actors, to Swiney and his joint Sharers in the Hay-Market, he (Collier) might be put into an equal Possession of the Hay-Market Theatre, with all the Singers, &c. and be made sole Director of the Opera. Accordingly, by Permission of the Lord Chamberlain, a Treaty was enter'd into, and in a few Days ratified by all Parties, conformable to the said Preliminaries.[79] This was that happy Crisis of Theatrical Liberty which the labouring Comedians had long sigh'd for, and which, for above twenty Years following, was so memorably fortunate to them.

However, there were two hard Articles in this Treaty, which, though it might be Policy in the Actors to comply with, yet the Imposition of them seem'd little less despotick than a Tax upon the Poor when a Government did not want it.

The first of these Articles was, That whereas the sole License for acting Plays was presum'd to be a more profitable Authority than that for acting Operas only, that therefore Two Hundred Pounds a Year should be paid to Collier, while Master of the Opera, by the Comedians; to whom a verbal Assurance was given by the Plenipo's on the Court-side, that while such Payment subsisted no other Company should be permitted to act Plays against them within the Liberties, &c. The other Article was, That on every Wednesday whereon an Opera could be perform'd, the Plays should, toties quoties, be silent at Drury-Lane, to give the Opera a fairer Chance for a full House.

This last Article, however partial in the Intention, was in its Effect of great Advantage to the sharing Actors: For in all publick Entertainments a Day's Abstinence naturally increases the Appetite to them: Our every Thursday's Audience, therefore, was visibly the better by thus making the Day before it a Fast. But as this was not a Favour design'd us, this Prohibition of a Day, methinks, deserves a little farther Notice, because it evidently took a sixth Part of their Income from all the hired Actors, who were only paid in proportion to the Number of acting Days. This extraordinary Regard to Operas was, in effect, making the Day-labouring Actors the principal Subscribers to them, and the shutting out People from the Play every Wednesday many murmur'd at as an Abridgment of their usual Liberty. And tho' I was one of those who profited by that Order, it ought not to bribe me into a Concealment of what was then said and thought of it. I remember a Nobleman of the first Rank, then in a high Post, and not out of Court-Favour, said openly behind the Scenes——It was shameful to take part of the Actors Bread from them to support the silly Diversion of People of Quality. But alas! what was all this Grievance when weighed against the Qualifications of so grave and staunch a Senator as Collier? Such visible Merit, it seems, was to be made easy, tho' at the Expence of the—I had almost said, Honour of the Court, whose gracious Intention for the Theatrical Common-wealth might have shone with thrice the Lustre if such a paltry Price had not been paid for it. But as the Government of the Stage is but that of the World in Miniature, we ought not to have wonder'd that Collier had Interest enough to quarter the Weakness of the Opera upon the Strength of the Comedy. General good Intentions are not always practicable to a Perfection. The most necessary Law can hardly pass, but a Tenderness to some private Interest shall often hang such Exceptions upon particular Clauses, 'till at last it comes out lame and lifeless, with the Loss of half its Force, Purpose, and Dignity. As, for Instance, how many fruitless Motions have been made in Parliaments to moderate the enormous Exactions in the Practice of the Law? And what sort of Justice must that be call'd, which, when a Man has not a mind to pay you a Debt of Ten Pounds, it shall cost you Fifty before you can get it? How long, too, has the Publick been labouring for a Bridge at Westminster? But the Wonder that it was not built a Hundred Years ago ceases when we are told, That the Fear of making one End of London as rich as the other has been so long an Obstruction to it:[80] And though it might seem a still greater Wonder, when a new Law for building one had at last got over that Apprehension, that it should meet with any farther Delay; yet Experience has shewn us that the Structure of this useful Ornament to our Metropolis has been so clogg'd by private Jobs that were to be pick'd out of the Undertaking, and the Progress of the Work so disconcerted by a tedious Contention of private Interests and Endeavours to impose upon the Publick abominable Bargains, that a whole Year was lost before a single Stone could be laid to its Foundation. But Posterity will owe its Praises to the Zeal and Resolution of a truly Noble Commissioner, whose distinguish'd Impatience has broke thro' those narrow Artifices, those false and frivolous Objections that delay'd it, and has already began to raise above the Tide that future Monument of his Publick Spirit.[81]


HESTER SANTLOW.


How far all this may be allow'd applicable to the State of the Stage is not of so great Importance, nor so much my Concern, as that what is observ'd upon it should always remain a memorable Truth, to the Honour of that Nobleman. But now I go on: Collier being thus possess'd of his Musical Government, thought his best way would be to farm it out to a Gentleman, Aaron Hill, Esq.[82] (who he had reason to suppose knew something more of Theatrical Matters than himself) at a Rent, if I mistake not, of Six Hundred Pounds per Annum: But before the Season was ended (upon what occasion, if I could remember, it might not be material to say) took it into his Hands again: But all his Skill and Interest could not raise the Direction of the Opera to so good a Post as he thought due to a Person of his Consideration: He therefore, the Year following, enter'd upon another high-handed Scheme, which, 'till the Demise of the Queen, turn'd to his better Account.

After the Comedians were in Possession of Drury-Lane, from whence during my time upon the Stage they never departed, their Swarm of Audiences exceeded all that had been seen in thirty Years before; which, however, I do not impute so much to the Excellence of their Acting as to their indefatigable Industry and good Menagement; for, as I have often said, I never thought in the general that we stood in any Place of Comparison with the eminent Actors before us; perhaps, too, by there being now an End of the frequent Divisions and Disorders that had from time to time broke in upon and frustrated their Labours, not a little might be contributed to their Success.

Collier, then, like a true liquorish Courtier, observing the Prosperity of a Theatre, which he the Year before had parted with for a worse, began to meditate an Exchange of Theatrical Posts with Swiney, who had visibly very fair Pretensions to that he was in, by his being first chosen by the Court to regulate and rescue the Stage from the Disorders it had suffer'd under its former Menagers:[83] Yet Collier knew that sort of Merit could stand in no Competition with his being a Member of Parliament: He therefore had recourse to his Court-Interest (where meer Will and Pleasure at that time was the only Law that dispos'd of all Theatrical Rights) to oblige Swiney to let him be off from his bad Bargain for a better. To this it may be imagin'd Swiney demurred, and as he had Reason, strongly remonstrated against it: But as Collier had listed his Conscience under the Command of Interest, he kept it to strict Duty, and was immoveable; insomuch that Sir John Vanbrugh, who was a Friend to Swiney, and who, by his Intimacy with the People in Power, better knew the Motive of their Actions, advis'd Swiney rather to accept of the Change, than by a Non-compliance to hazard his being excluded from any Post or Concern in either of the Theatres: To conclude, it was not long before Collier had procured a new License for acting Plays, &c. for himself, Wilks, Dogget, and Cibber, exclusive of Swiney, who by this new Regulation was reduc'd to his Hobson's Choice of the Opera.[84]

Swiney being thus transferr'd to the Opera[85] in the sinking Condition Collier had left it, found the Receipts of it in the Winter following, 1711, so far short of the Expences, that he was driven to attend his Fortune in some more favourable Climate, where he remain'd twenty Years an Exile from his Friends and Country, tho' there has been scarce an English Gentleman who in his Tour of France or Italy has not renew'd or created an Acquaintance with him. As this is a Circumstance that many People may have forgot, I cannot remember it without that Regard and Concern it deserves from all that know him: Yet it is some Mitigation of his Misfortune that since his Return to England, his grey Hairs and cheerful Disposition have still found a general Welcome among his foreign and former domestick Acquaintance.

Collier being now first-commission'd Menager with the Comedians, drove them, too, to the last Inch of a hard Bargain (the natural Consequence of all Treaties between Power and Necessity.) He not only demanded six hundred a Year neat Money, the Price at which he had farm'd out his Opera, and to make the Business a Sine-cure to him, but likewise insisted upon a Moiety of the Two hundred that had been levied upon us the Year before in Aid of the Operas; in all 700l. These large and ample Conditions, considering in what Hands we were, we resolv'd to swallow without wry Faces; rather chusing to run any Hazard than contend with a formidable Power against which we had no Remedy: But so it happen'd that Fortune took better care of our Interest than we ourselves had like to have done: For had Collier accepted of our first Offer, of an equal Share with us, he had got three hundred Pounds a Year more by complying with it than by the Sum he imposed upon us, our Shares being never less than a thousand annually to each of us, 'till the End of the Queen's Reign in 1714. After which Collier's Commission was superseded, his Theatrical Post, upon the Accession of his late Majesty, being given to Sir Richard Steele.[86]

From these various Revolutions in the Government of the Theatre, all owing to the Patentees mistaken Principle of increasing their Profits by too far enslaving their People, and keeping down the Price of good Actors (and I could almost insist that giving large Sallaries to bad Ones could not have had a worse Consequence) I say, when it is consider'd that the Authority for acting Plays, &c. was thought of so little worth that (as has been observ'd) Sir Thomas Skipwith gave away his Share of it, and the Adventurers had fled from it; that Mr. Congreve, at another time, had voluntarily resign'd it; and Sir John Vanbrugh (meerly to get the Rent of his new House paid) had, by Leave of the Court, farm'd out his License to Swiney, who not without some Hesitation had ventur'd upon it; let me say again, out of this low Condition of the Theatre, was it not owing to the Industry of three or four Comedians that a new Place was now created for the Crown to give away, without any Expence attending it, well worth the Acceptance of any Gentleman whose Merit or Services had no higher Claim to Preferment, and which Collier and Sir Richard Steele, in the two last Reigns, successively enjoy'd? Tho' I believe I may have said something like this in a former Chapter,[87] I am not unwilling it should be twice taken notice of.

We are now come to that firm Establishment of the Theatre, which, except the Admittance of Booth into a Share and Dogget's retiring from it, met with no Change or Alteration for above twenty Years after.

Collier, as has been said, having accepted of a certain Appointment of seven hundred per Annum, Wilks, Dogget, and Myself were now the only acting Menagers under the Queen's License; which being a Grant but during Pleasure oblig'd us to a Conduct that might not undeserve that Favour. At this Time we were All in the Vigour of our Capacities as Actors, and our Prosperity enabled us to pay at least double the Sallaries to what the same Actors had usually receiv'd, or could have hoped for under the Government of the Patentees. Dogget, who was naturally an Oeconomist, kept our Expences and Accounts to the best of his Power within regulated Bounds and Moderation. Wilks, who had a stronger Passion for Glory than Lucre, was a little apt to be lavish in what was not always as necessary for the Profit as the Honour of the Theatre: For example, at the Beginning of almost every Season, he would order two or three Suits to be made or refresh'd for Actors of moderate Consequence, that his having constantly a new one for himself might seem less particular, tho' he had as yet no new Part for it. This expeditious Care of doing us good without waiting for our Consent to it, Dogget always look'd upon with the Eye of a Man in Pain: But I, who hated Pain, (tho' I as little liked the Favour as Dogget himself) rather chose to laugh at the Circumstance, than complain of what I knew was not to be cured but by a Remedy worse than the Evil. Upon these Occasions, therefore, whenever I saw him and his Followers so prettily dress'd out for an old Play, I only commended his Fancy; or at most but whisper'd him not to give himself so much trouble about others, upon whose Performance it would but be thrown away: To which, with a smiling Air of Triumph over my want of Penetration, he has reply'd—Why, now, that was what I really did it for! to shew others that I love to take care of them as well as of myself. Thus, whenever he made himself easy, he had not the least Conception, let the Expence be what it would, that we could possibly dislike it. And from the same Principle, provided a thinner Audience were liberal of their Applause, he gave himself little Concern about the Receipt of it. As in these different Tempers of my Brother-Menagers there might be equally something right and wrong, it was equally my Business to keep well with them both: And tho' of the two I was rather inclin'd to Dogget's way of thinking, yet I was always under the disagreeable Restraint of not letting Wilks see it: Therefore, when in any material Point of Menagement they were ready to come to a Rupture, I found it adviseable to think neither of them absolutely in the wrong; but by giving to one as much of the Right in his Opinion this way as I took from the other in that, their Differences were sometimes soft'ned into Concessions, that I have reason to think prevented many ill Consequences in our Affairs that otherwise might have attended them. But this was always to be done with a very gentle Hand; for as Wilks was apt to be easily hurt by Opposition, so when he felt it he was as apt to be insupportable. However, there were some Points in which we were always unanimous. In the twenty Years while we were our own Directors, we never had a Creditor that had occasion to come twice for his Bill; every Monday Morning discharged us of all Demands before we took a Shilling for our own Use. And from this time we neither ask'd any Actor, nor were desired by them, to sign any written Agreement (to the best of my Memory) whatsoever: The Rate of their respective Sallaries were only enter'd in our daily Pay-Roll; which plain Record every one look'd upon as good as City-Security: For where an honest Meaning is mutual, the mutual Confidence will be Bond enough in Conscience on both sides: But that I may not ascribe more to our Conduct than was really its Due, I ought to give Fortune her Share of the Commendation; for had not our Success exceeded our Expectation, it might not have been in our Power so thoroughly to have observ'd those laudable Rules of Oeconomy, Justice, and Lenity, which so happily supported us: But the Severities and Oppression we had suffer'd under our former Masters made us incapable of imposing them on others; which gave our whole Society the cheerful Looks of a rescued People. But notwithstanding this general Cause of Content, it was not above a Year or two before the Imperfection of human Nature began to shew itself in contrary Symptoms. The Merit of the Hazards which the Menagers had run, and the Difficulties they had combated in bringing to Perfection that Revolution by which they had all so amply profited in the Amendment of their general Income, began now to be forgotten; their Acknowledgments and thankful Promises of Fidelity were no more repeated, or scarce thought obligatory: Ease and Plenty by an habitual Enjoyment had lost their Novelty, and the Largeness of their Sallaries seem'd rather lessen'd than advanc'd by the extraordinary Gains of the Undertakers; for that is the Scale in which the hired Actor will always weigh his Performance; but whatever Reason there may seem to be in his Case, yet, as he is frequently apt to throw a little Self-partiality into the Balance, that Consideration may a good deal alter the Justness of it. While the Actors, therefore, had this way of thinking, happy was it for the Menagers that their united Interest was so inseparably the same, and that their Skill and Power in Acting stood in a Rank so far above the rest, that if the whole Body of private Men had deserted them, it would yet have been an easier matter for the Menagers to have pick'd up Recruits, than for the Deserters to have found proper Officers to head them. Here, then, in this Distinction lay our Security: Our being Actors ourselves was an Advantage to our Government which all former Menagers, who were only idle Gentlemen, wanted: Nor was our Establishment easily to be broken, while our Health and Limbs enabled us to be Joint-labourers in the Work we were Masters of.

The only Actor who, in the Opinion of the Publick, seem'd to have had a Pretence of being advanc'd to a Share with us was certainly Booth: But when it is consider'd how strongly he had oppos'd the Measures that had made us Menagers, by setting himself (as has been observ'd) at the Head of an opposite Interest,[88] he could not as yet have much to complain of: Beside, if the Court had thought him, now, an equal Object of Favour, it could not have been in our Power to have oppos'd his Preferment: This I mention, not to take from his Merit, but to shew from what Cause it was not as yet better provided for. Therefore it may be no Vanity to say, our having at that time no visible Competitors on the Stage was the only Interest that rais'd us to be the Menagers of it.

But here let me rest a while, and since at my time of Day our best Possessions are but Ease and Quiet, I must be content, if I will have Sallies of Pleasure, to take up with those only that are to be found in Imagination. When I look back, therefore, on the Storms of the Stage we had been toss'd in; when I consider that various Vicissitude of Hopes and Fears we had for twenty Years struggled with, and found ourselves at last thus safely set on Shore to enjoy the Produce of our own Labours, and to have rais'd those Labours by our Skill and Industry to a much fairer Profit, than our Task-masters by all their severe and griping Government had ever reap'd from them, a good-natur'd Reader, that is not offended at the Comparison of great things with small, will allow was a Triumph in proportion equal to those that have attended the most heroick Enterprizes for Liberty! What Transport could the first Brutus feel upon his Expulsion of the Tarquins greater than that which now danc'd in the Heart of a poor Actor, who, from an injur'd Labourer, unpaid his Hire, had made himself, without Guilt, a legal Menager of his own Fortune? Let the Grave and Great contemn or yawn at these low Conceits, but let me be happy in the Enjoyment of them! To this Hour my Memory runs o'er that pleasing Prospect of Life past with little less Delight than when I was first in the real Possession of it. This is the natural Temper of my Mind, which my Acquaintance are frequently Witnesses of: And as this was all the Ambition Providence had made my obscure Condition capable of, I am thankful that Means were given me to enjoy the Fruits of it.

——Hoc est
Vivere bìs, vitâ; posse priore frui.[89]

Something like the Meaning of this the less learned Reader may find in my Title Page.


Ad Lalauze, sc

CHAPTER XIV.

The Stage in its highest Prosperity. The Menagers not without Errors. Of what Kind. Cato first acted. What brought it to the Stage. The Company go to Oxford. Their Success and different Auditors there. Booth made a Sharer. Dogget objects to him. Quits the Stage upon his Admittance. That not his true Reason. What was. Dogget's Theatrical Character.

Notwithstanding the Menaging Actors were now in a happier Situation than their utmost Pretensions could have expected, yet it is not to be suppos'd but wiser Men might have mended it. As we could not all govern our selves, there were Seasons when we were not all fit to govern others. Our Passions and our Interest drew not always the same way. Self had a great Sway in our Debates: We had our Partialities; our Prejudices; our Favourites of less Merit; and our Jealousies of those who came too near us; Frailties which Societies of higher Consideration, while they are compos'd of Men, will not always be free from. To have been constantly capable of Unanimity had been a Blessing too great for our Station: One Mind among three People were to have had three Masters to one Servant; but when that one Servant is called three different ways at the same time, whose Business is to be done first? For my own Part, I was forced almost all my Life to give up my Share of him. And if I could, by Art or Persuasion, hinder others from making what I thought a wrong use of their Power, it was the All and utmost I desired. Yet, whatever might be our Personal Errors, I shall think I have no Right to speak of them farther than where the Publick Entertainment was affected by them. If therefore, among so many, some particular Actors were remarkable in any part of their private Lives, that might sometimes make the World merry without Doors, I hope my laughing Friends will excuse me if I do not so far comply with their Desires or Curiosity as to give them a Place in my History. I can only recommend such Anecdotes to the Amusement of a Noble Person, who (in case I conceal them) does me the flattering Honour to threaten my Work with a Supplement. 'Tis enough for me that such Actors had their Merits to the Publick: Let those recite their Imperfections who are themselves without them: It is my Misfortune not to have that Qualification. Let us see then (whatever was amiss in it) how our Administration went forward.

When we were first invested with this Power, the Joy of our so unexpectedly coming into it kept us for some time in Amity and Good-Humour with one another: And the Pleasure of reforming the many false Measures, Absurdities, and Abuses, that, like Weeds, had suck'd up the due Nourishment from the Fruits of the Theatre, gave us as yet no leisure for private Dissentions. Our daily Receipts exceeded our Imagination: And we seldom met as a Board to settle our weekly Accounts without the Satisfaction of Joint-Heirs just in Possession of an unexpected Estate that had been distantly intail'd upon them. Such a sudden Change of our Condition it may be imagin'd could not but throw out of us a new Spirit in almost every Play we appear'd in: Nor did we ever sink into that common Negligence which is apt to follow Good-fortune: Industry we knew was the Life of our Business; that it not only conceal'd Faults, but was of equal Value to greater Talents without it; which the Decadence once of Betterton's Company in Lincoln's-Inn-Fields had lately shewn us a Proof of.

This then was that happy Period, when both Actors and Menagers were in their highest Enjoyment of general Content and Prosperity. Now it was that the politer World, too, by their decent Attention, their sensible Taste, and their generous Encouragements to Authors and Actors, once more saw that the Stage, under a due Regulation, was capable of being what the wisest Ages thought it might be, The most rational Scheme that Human Wit could form to dissipate with Innocence the Cares of Life, to allure even the Turbulent or Ill-disposed from worse Meditations, and to give the leisure Hours of Business and Virtue an instructive Recreation.

If this grave Assertion is less recommended by falling from the Pen of a Comedian, I must appeal for the Truth of it to the Tragedy of Cato, which was first acted in 1712.[90] I submit to the Judgment of those who were then the sensible Spectators of it, if the Success and Merit of that Play was not an Evidence of every Article of that Value which I have given to a decent Theatre? But (as I was observing) it could not be expected the Summer Days I am speaking of could be the constant Weather of the Year; we had our clouded Hours as well as our sun-shine, and were not always in the same Good-Humour with one another: Fire, Air, and Water could not be more vexatiously opposite than the different Tempers of the Three Menagers, though they might equally have their useful as well as their destructive Qualities. How variously these Elements in our several Dispositions operated may be judged from the following single Instance, as well as a thousand others, which, if they were all to be told, might possibly make my Reader wish I had forgot them.

Much about this time, then, there came over from Dublin Theatre two uncelebrated Actors to pick up a few Pence among us in the Winter, as Wilks had a Year or two before done on their side the Water in the Summer.[91] But it was not so clear to Dogget and myself that it was in their Power to do us the same Service in Drury-Lane as Wilks might have done them in Dublin. However, Wilks was so much a Man of Honour that he scorned to be outdone in the least Point of it, let the Cost be what it would to his Fellow-Menagers, who had no particular Accounts of Honour open with them. To acquit himself therefore with a better Grace, Wilks so order'd it, that his Hibernian Friends were got upon our Stage before any other Menager had well heard of their Arrival. This so generous Dispatch of their Affair gave Wilks a very good Chance of convincing his Friends that Himself was sole Master of the Masters of the Company. Here, now, the different Elements in our Tempers began to work with us. While Wilks was only animated by a grateful Hospitality to his Friends, Dogget was ruffled into a Storm, and look'd upon this Generosity as so much Insult and Injustice upon himself and the Fraternity. During this Disorder I stood by, a seeming quiet Passenger, and, since talking to the Winds I knew could be to no great Purpose (whatever Weakness it might be call'd) could not help smiling to observe with what officious Ease and Delight Wilks was treating his Friends at our Expence, who were scarce acquainted with them: For it seems all this was to end in their having a Benefit-Play in the Height of the Season, for the unprofitable Service they had done us without our Consent or Desire to employ them. Upon this Dogget bounc'd and grew almost as untractable as Wilks himself. Here, again, I was forc'd to clap my Patience to the Helm to weather this difficult Point between them: Applying myself therefore to the Person I imagin'd was most likely to hear me, I desired Dogget "to consider that I must naturally be as much hurt by this vain and over-bearing Behaviour in Wilks as he could be; and that tho' it was true these Actors had no Pretence to the Favour design'd them, yet we could not say they had done us any farther Harm, than letting the Town see the Parts they had been shewn in, had been better done by those to whom they properly belong'd: Yet as we had greatly profited by the extraordinary Labour of Wilks, who acted long Parts almost every Day, and at least twice to Dogget's once;[92] and that I granted it might not be so much his Consideration of our common Interest, as his Fondness for Applause, that set him to Work, yet even that Vanity, if he supposed it such, had its Merit to us; and as we had found our Account in it, it would be Folly upon a Punctilio to tempt the Rashness of a Man, who was capable to undo all he had done, by any Act of Extravagance that might fly into his Head: That admitting this Benefit might be some little Loss to us, yet to break with him upon it could not but be ten times of worse Consequence, than our overlooking his disagreeable manner of making the Demand upon us."


ROBERT WILKS.


Though I found this had made Dogget drop the Severity of his Features, yet he endeavoured still to seem uneasy, by his starting a new Objection, which was, That we could not be sure even of the Charge they were to pay for it: For Wilks, said he, you know, will go any Lengths to make it a good Day to them, and may whisper the Door-keepers to give them the Ready-money taken, and return the Account in such Tickets only as these Actors have not themselves disposed of. To make this easy too, I gave him my Word to be answerable for the Charge my self. Upon this he acceded, and accordingly they had the Benefit-Play. But so it happen'd (whether as Dogget had suspected or not, I cannot say) the Ready-money receiv'd fell Ten Pounds short of the Sum they had agreed to pay for it. Upon the Saturday following, (the Day on which we constantly made up our Accounts) I went early to the Office, and inquired if the Ten Pounds had yet been paid in; but not hearing that one Shilling of it had found its way thither, I immediately supply'd the Sum out of my own Pocket, and directed the Treasurer to charge it received from me in the deficient Receipt of the Benefit-Day. Here, now, it might be imagined, all this silly Matter was accommodated, and that no one could so properly say he was aggrieved as myself: But let us observe what the Consequence says—why, the Effect of my insolent interposing honesty prov'd to be this: That the Party most oblig'd was the most offended; and the Offence was imputed to me who had been Ten Pounds out of Pocket to be able to commit it: For when Wilks found in the Account how spitefully the Ten Pounds had been paid in, he took me aside into the adjacent Stone-Passage, and with some Warmth ask'd me, What I meant by pretending to pay in this Ten Pounds? And that, for his part, he did not understand such Treatment. To which I reply'd, That tho' I was amaz'd at his thinking himself ill-treated, I would give him a plain, justifiable Answer.——That I had given my Word to Dogget the Charge of the Benefit should be fully paid, and since his Friends had neglected it, I found myself bound to make it good. Upon which he told me I was mistaken if I thought he did not see into the bottom of all this—That Dogget and I were always endeavouring to thwart and make him uneasy; but he was able to stand upon his own Legs, and we should find he would not be used so: That he took this Payment of the Ten Pounds as an Insult upon him and a Slight to his Friends; but rather than suffer it he would tear the whole Business to pieces: That I knew it was in his Power to do it; and if he could not do a civil thing to a Friend without all this senseless Rout about it, he could be received in Ireland upon his own Terms, and could as easily mend a Company there as he had done here: That if he were gone, Dogget and I would not be able to keep the Doors open a Week; and, by G—, he would not be a Drudge for nothing. As I knew all this was but the Foam of the high Value he had set upon himself, I thought it not amiss to seem a little silently concerned, for the helpless Condition to which his Resentment of the Injury I have related was going to reduce us: For I knew I had a Friend in his Heart that, if I gave him a little time to cool, would soon bring him to Reason: The sweet Morsel of a Thousand Pounds a Year was not to be met with at every Table, and might tempt a nicer Palate than his own to swallow it, when he was not out of Humour. This I knew would always be of weight with him, when the best Arguments I could use would be of none. I therefore gave him no farther Provocation than by gravely telling him, We all had it in our Power to do one another a Mischief; but I believed none of us much cared to hurt ourselves; that if he was not of my Opinion, it would not be in my Power to hinder whatever new Scheme he might resolve upon; that London would always have a Play-house, and I should have some Chance in it, tho' it might not be so good as it had been; that he might be sure, if I had thought my paying in the Ten Pounds could have been so ill received, I should have been glad to have saved it. Upon this he seem'd to mutter something to himself, and walk'd off as if he had a mind to be alone. I took the Occasion, and return'd to Dogget to finish our Accounts. In about six Minutes Wilks came in to us, not in the best Humour, it may be imagined; yet not in so ill a one but that he took his Share of the Ten Pounds without shewing the least Contempt of it; which, had he been proud enough to have refused, or to have paid in himself, I might have thought he intended to make good his Menaces, and that the Injury I had done him would never have been forgiven; but it seems we had different ways of thinking.

Of this kind, more or less delightful, was the Life I led with this impatient Man for full twenty Years. Dogget, as we shall find, could not hold it so long; but as he had more Money than I, he had not Occasion for so much Philosophy. And thus were our Theatrical Affairs frequently disconcerted by this irascible Commander, this Achilles of our Confederacy, who, I may be bold to say, came very little short of the Spirit Horace gives to that Hero in his—

Impiger, iracundus, inexorabilis, acer.[93]

This, then, is one of those Personal Anecdotes of our Variances, which, as our publick Performances were affected by it, could not, with regard to Truth and Justice, be omitted.

From this time to the Year 1712 my Memory (from which Repository alone every Article of what I write is collected) has nothing worth mentioning, 'till the first acting of the Tragedy of Cato.[94] As to the Play itself, it might be enough to say, That the Author and the Actors had their different Hopes of Fame and Profit amply answer'd by the Performance; but as its Success was attended with remarkable Consequences, it may not be amiss to trace it from its several Years Concealment in the Closet, to the Stage.

In 1703, nine Years before it was acted, I had the Pleasure of reading the first four Acts (which was all of it then written) privately with Sir Richard Steele: It may be needless to say it was impossible to lay them out of my Hand 'till I had gone thro' them, or to dwell upon the Delight his Friendship to the Author receiv'd upon my being so warmly pleas'd with them: But my Satisfaction was as highly disappointed when he told me, Whatever Spirit Mr. Addison had shewn in his writing it, he doubted he would never have Courage enough to let his Cato stand the Censure of an English Audience; that it had only been the Amusement of his leisure Hours in Italy, and was never intended for the Stage. This Poetical Diffidence[95] Sir Richard himself spoke of with some Concern, and in the Transport of his Imagination could not help saying, Good God! what a Part would Betterton make of Cato! But this was seven Years before Betterton died, and when Booth (who afterwards made his Fortune by acting it) was in his Theatrical Minority. In the latter end of Queen Anne's Reign, when our National Politicks had changed Hands, the Friends of Mr. Addison then thought it a proper time to animate the Publick with the Sentiments of Cato; in a word, their Importunities were too warm to be resisted; and it was no sooner finish'd than hurried to the Stage, in April, 1712,[96] at a time when three Days a Week were usually appointed for the Benefit Plays of particular Actors: But a Work of that critical Importance was to make its way through all private Considerations; nor could it possibly give place to a Custom, which the Breach of could very little prejudice the Benefits, that on so unavoidable an Occasion were (in part, tho' not wholly) postpon'd; it was therefore (Mondays excepted) acted every Day for a Month to constantly crowded Houses.[97] As the Author had made us a Present of whatever Profits he might have claim'd from it, we thought our selves oblig'd to spare no Cost in the proper Decorations of it. Its coming so late in the Season to the Stage prov'd of particular Advantage to the sharing Actors, because the Harvest of our annual Gains was generally over before the middle of March, many select Audiences being then usually reserv'd in favour to the Benefits of private Actors; which fixt Engagements naturally abated the Receipts of the Days before and after them: But this unexpected Aftercrop of Cato largely supplied to us those Deficiencies, and was almost equal to two fruitful Seasons in the same Year; at the Close of which the three menaging Actors found themselves each a Gainer of thirteen hundred and fifty Pounds: But to return to the first Reception of this Play from the Publick.

Although Cato seems plainly written upon what are called Whig Principles, yet the Torys of that time had Sense enough not to take it as the least Reflection upon their Administration; but, on the contrary, they seem'd to brandish and vaunt their Approbation of every Sentiment in favour of Liberty, which, by a publick Act of their Generosity, was carried so high, that one Day, while the Play was acting, they collected fifty Guineas in the Boxes, and made a Present of them to Booth, with this Compliment——For his honest Opposition to a perpetual Dictator, and his dying so bravely in the Cause of Liberty: What was insinuated by any Part of these Words is not my Affair;[98] but so publick a Reward had the Appearance of a laudable Spirit, which only such a Play as Cato could have inspired; nor could Booth be blam'd if, upon so particular a Distinction of his Merit, he began himself to set more Value upon it: How far he might carry it, in making use of the Favour he stood in with a certain Nobleman[99] then in Power at Court, was not difficult to penetrate, and indeed ought always to have been expected by the menaging Actors: For which of them (making the Case every way his own) could with such Advantages have contented himself in the humble Station of an hired Actor? But let us see how the Menagers stood severally affected upon this Occasion.

Dogget, who expected, though he fear'd not, the Attempt of what after happen'd, imagin'd he had thought of an Expedient to prevent it: And to cover his Design with all the Art of a Statesman, he insinuated to us (for he was a staunch Whig) that this Present of fifty Guineas was a sort of a Tory Triumph which they had no Pretence to; and that for his Part he could not bear that so redoubted a Champion for Liberty as Cato should be bought off to the Cause of a Contrary Party: He therefore, in the seeming Zeal of his Heart, proposed that the Menagers themselves should make the same Present to Booth which had been made him from the Boxes the Day before. This, he said, would recommend the Equality and liberal Spirit of our Menagement to the Town, and might be a Means to secure Booth more firmly in our Interest, it never having been known that the Skill of the best Actor had receiv'd so round a Reward or Gratuity in one Day before. Wilks, who wanted nothing but Abilities to be as cunning as Dogget, was so charm'd with the Proposal that he long'd that Moment to make Booth the Present with his own Hands; and though he knew he had no Right to do it without my Consent, had no Patience to ask it; upon which I turned to Dogget with a cold Smile, and told him, that if Booth could be purchas'd at so cheap a Rate, it would be one of the best Proofs of his Oeconomy we had ever been beholden to: I therefore desired we might have a little Patience; that our doing it too hastily might be only making sure of an Occasion to throw the fifty Guineas away; for if we should be obliged to do better for him, we could never expect that Booth would think himself bound in Honour to refund them. This seem'd so absurd an Argument to Wilks that he began, with his usual Freedom of Speech, to treat it as a pitiful Evasion of their intended Generosity: But Dogget, who was not so wide of my Meaning, clapping his Hand upon mine, said, with an Air of Security, O! don't trouble yourself! there must be two Words to that Bargain; let me alone to menage that Matter. Wilks, upon this dark Discourse, grew uneasy, as if there were some Secret between us that he was to be left out of. Therefore, to avoid the Shock of his Intemperance, I was reduc'd to tell him that it was my Opinion, that Booth would never be made easy by any thing we could do for him, 'till he had a Share in the Profits and Menagement; and that, as he did not want Friends to assist him, whatever his Merit might be before, every one would think, since his acting of Cato, he had now enough to back his Pretensions to it. To which Dogget reply'd, that nobody could think his Merit was slighted by so handsome a Present as fifty Guineas; and that, for his farther Pretensions, whatever the License might avail, our Property of House, Scenes, and Cloaths were our own, and not in the Power of the Crown to dispose of. To conclude, my Objections that the Money would be only thrown away, &c. were over-rul'd, and the same Night Booth had the fifty Guineas, which he receiv'd with a Thankfulness that made Wilks and Dogget perfectly easy, insomuch that they seem'd for some time to triumph in their Conduct, and often endeavour'd to laugh my Jealousy out of Countenance: But in the following Winter the Game happen'd to take a different Turn; and then, if it had been a laughing Matter, I had as strong an Occasion to smile at their former Security. But before I make an End of this Matter, I cannot pass over the good Fortune of the Company that followed us to the Act at Oxford, which was held in the intervening Summer: Perhaps, too, a short View of the Stage in that different Situation may not be unacceptable to the Curious.

After the Restoration of King Charles, before the Cavalier and Round-head Parties, under their new Denomination of Whig and Tory, began again to be politically troublesome, publick Acts at Oxford (as I find by the Date of several Prologues written by Dryden[100] for Hart on those Occasions) had been more frequently held than in later Reigns. Whether the same Party-Dissentions may have occasion'd the Discontinuance of them, is a Speculation not necessary to be enter'd into. But these Academical Jubilees have usually been look'd upon as a kind of congratulatory Compliment to the Accession of every new Prince to the Throne, and generally, as such, have attended them. King James,[101] notwithstanding his Religion, had the Honour of it; at which the Players, as usual, assisted. This I have only mention'd to give the Reader a Theatrical Anecdote of a Liberty which Tony Leigh the Comedian took with the Character of the well known Obadiah Walker,[102] then Head of University College, who in that Prince's Reign had turn'd Roman Catholick: The Circumstance is this.

In the latter End of the Comedy call'd the Committee, Leigh, who acted the Part of Teague, hauling in Obadiah with an Halter about his Neck, whom, according to his written Part, he was to threaten to hang for no better Reason than his refusing to drink the King's Health, (but here Leigh) to justify his Purpose with a stronger Provocation, put himself into a more than ordinary Heat with his Captive Obadiah, which having heightened his Master's Curiosity to know what Obadiah had done to deserve such Usage, Leigh, folding his Arms, with a ridiculous Stare of Astonishment, reply'd—Upon my Shoule, he has shange his Religion. As the Merit of this Jest lay chiefly in the Auditors' sudden Application of it to the Obadiah of Oxford, it was received with all the Triumph of Applause which the Zeal of a different Religion could inspire. But Leigh was given to understand that the King was highly displeased at it, inasmuch as it had shewn him that the University was in a Temper to make a Jest of his Proselyte. But to return to the Conduct of our own Affairs there in 1712.[103]

It had been a Custom for the Comedians while at Oxford to act twice a Day; the first Play ending every Morning before the College Hours of dining, and the other never to break into the time of shutting their Gates in the Evening. This extraordinary Labour gave all the hired Actors a Title to double Pay, which, at the Act in King William's Time, I had myself accordingly received there. But the present Menagers considering that, by acting only once a Day, their Spirits might be fresher for every single Performance, and that by this Means they might be able to fill up the Term of their Residence, without the Repetition of their best and strongest Plays; and as their Theatre was contrived to hold a full third more than the usual Form of it had done, one House well fill'd might answer the Profits of two but moderately taken up: Being enabled, too, by their late Success at London, to make the Journey pleasant and profitable to the rest of their Society, they resolved to continue to them their double Pay, notwithstanding this new Abatement of half their Labour. This Conduct of the Menagers more than answered their Intention, which was rather to get nothing themselves than not let their Fraternity be the better for the Expedition. Thus they laid an Obligation upon their Company, and were themselves considerably, though unexpected, Gainers by it. But my chief Reason for bringing the Reader to Oxford was to shew the different Taste of Plays there from that which prevail'd at London. A great deal of that false, flashy Wit and forc'd Humour, which had been the Delight of our Metropolitan Multitude, was only rated there at its bare intrinsick Value;[104] Applause was not to be purchased there but by the true Sterling, the Sal Atticum of a Genius, unless where the Skill of the Actor pass'd it upon them with some extraordinary Strokes of Nature. Shakespear and Johnson had there a sort of classical Authority; for whose masterly Scenes they seem'd to have as implicit a Reverence as formerly for the Ethicks of Aristotle; and were as incapable of allowing Moderns to be their Competitors, as of changing their Academical Habits for gaudy Colours or Embroidery. Whatever Merit, therefore, some few of our more politely-written Comedies might pretend to, they had not the same Effect upon the Imagination there, nor were received with that extraordinary Applause they had met with from the People of Mode and Pleasure in London, whose vain Accomplishments did not dislike themselves in the Glass that was held to them: The elegant Follies of higher Life were not at Oxford among their Acquaintance, and consequently might not be so good Company to a learned Audience as Nature, in her plain Dress and unornamented, in her Pursuits and Inclinations seem'd to be.

The only distinguish'd Merit allow'd to any modern Writer[105] was to the Author of Cato, which Play being the Flower of a Plant raised in that learned Garden, (for there Mr. Addison had his Education) what favour may we not suppose was due to him from an Audience of Brethren, who from that local Relation to him might naturally have a warmer Pleasure in their Benevolence to his Fame? But not to give more Weight to this imaginary Circumstance than it may bear, the Fact was, that on our first Day of acting it our House was in a manner invested, and Entrance demanded by twelve a Clock at Noon, and before one it was not wide enough for many who came too late for Places. The same Crowds continued for three Days together, (an uncommon Curiosity in that Place) and the Death of Cato triumph'd over the Injuries of Cæsar every where. To conclude, our Reception at Oxford, whatever our Merit might be, exceeded our Expectation. At our taking Leave we had the Thanks of the Vice-Chancellor for the Decency and Order observ'd by our whole Society, an Honour which had not always been paid upon the same Occasions; for at the Act in King William's Time I remember some Pranks of a different Nature had been complain'd of. Our Receipts had not only enabled us (as I have observ'd) to double the Pay of every Actor, but to afford out of them towards the Repair of St Mary's Church the Contribution of fifty Pounds: Besides which, each of the three Menagers had to his respective Share, clear of all Charges, one hundred and fifty more for his one and twenty Day's Labour, which being added to his thirteen hundred and fifty shared in the Winter preceding, amounted in the whole to fifteen hundred, the greatest Sum ever known to have been shared in one Year to that Time: And to the Honour of our Auditors here and elsewhere be it spoken, all this was rais'd without the Aid of those barbarous Entertainments with which, some few Years after (upon the Re-establishment of two contending Companies) we were forc'd to disgrace the Stage to support it.

This, therefore, is that remarkable Period when the Stage, during my Time upon it, was the least reproachable: And it may be worth the publick Observation (if any thing I have said of it can be so) that One Stage may, as I have prov'd it has done, very laudably support it self by such Spectacles only as are fit to delight a sensible People; but the equal Prosperity of Two Stages has always been of a very short Duration. If therefore the Publick should ever recover into the true Taste of that Time, and stick to it, the Stage must come into it, or starve; as, whenever the general Taste is vulgar, the Stage must come down to it to live.——But I ask Pardon of the Multitude, who, in all Regulations of the Stage, may expect to be a little indulg'd in what they like: If therefore they will have a May-pole, why, the Players must give them a May-pole; but I only speak in case they should keep an old Custom of changing their Minds, and by their Privilege of being in the wrong, should take a Fancy, by way of Variety, of being in the right——Then, in such a Case, what I have said may appear to have been no intended Design against their Liberty of judging for themselves.

After our Return from Oxford, Booth was at full Leisure to solicit his Admission to a Share in the Menagement,[106] in which he succeeded about the Beginning of the following Winter: Accordingly a new License (recalling all former Licenses) was issued, wherein Booth's Name was added to those of the other Menagers.[107] But still there was a Difficulty in his Qualification to be adjusted; what Consideration he should allow for an equal Title to our Stock of Cloaths, Scenes, &c. without which the License was of no more use than the Stock was without the License; or, at least, if there were any Difference, the former Menagers seem'd to have the Advantage in it; the Stock being intirely theirs, and three Parts in four of the License; for Collier, though now but a fifth Menager, still insisted on his former Appointment of 700l. a Year, which in Equity ought certainly to have been proportionably abated: But Court-Favour was not always measur'd by that Yard; Collier's Matter was soon out of the Question; his Pretensions were too visible to be contested; but the Affair of Booth was not so clear a Point: The Lord Chamberlain, therefore, only recommended it to be adjusted among our selves; which, to say the Truth, at that Time was a greater Indulgence than I expected. Let us see, then, how this critical Case was handled.

Wilks was of Opinion, that to set a good round Value upon our Stock, was the only way to come near an Equivalent for the Diminution of our Shares, which the Admission of Booth must occasion: But Dogget insisted that he had no mind to dispose of any Part of his Property, and therefore would set no Price upon it at all. Though I allow'd that Both these Opinions might be grounded on a good deal of Equity, yet I was not sure that either of them was practicable; and therefore told them, that when they could Both agree which of them could be made so, they might rely on my Consent in any Shape. In the mean time I desired they would consider, that as our License subsisted only during Pleasure, we could not pretend that the Queen might not recall or alter it: But that to speak out, without mincing the matter on either Side, the Truth was plainly this: That Booth had a manifest Merit as an Actor; and as he was not supposed to be a Whig, it was as evident that a good deal for that Reason a Secretary of State had taken him into his Protection, which I was afraid the weak Pretence of our invaded Property would not be able to contend with: That his having signaliz'd himself in the Character of Cato (whose Principles the Tories had affected to have taken into their own Possession) was a very popular Pretence of making him free of the Stage, by advancing him to the Profits of it. And, as we had seen that the Stage was frequently treated as if it was not suppos'd to have any Property at all, this Favour intended to Booth was thought a right Occasion to avow that Opinion by disposing of its Property at Pleasure: But be that as it might, I own'd it was not so much my Apprehensions of what the Court might do, that sway'd me into an Accommodation with Booth, as what the Town, (in whose Favour he now apparently stood) might think ought to be done: That there might be more danger in contesting their arbitrary Will and Pleasure than in disputing this less terrible Strain of the Prerogative. That if Booth were only impos'd upon us from his Merit to the Court, we were then in the Condition of other Subjects: Then, indeed, Law, Right, and Possession might have a tolerable Tug for our Property: But as the Town would always look upon his Merit to them in a stronger Light, and be Judges of it themselves, it would be a weak and idle Endeavour in us not to sail with the Stream, when we might possibly make a Merit of our cheerfully admitting him: That though his former Opposition to our Interest might, between Man and Man, a good deal justify our not making an earlier Friend of him; yet that was a Disobligation out of the Town's Regard, and consequently would be of no weight against so approv'd an Actor's being preferr'd. But all this notwithstanding, if they could both agree in a different Opinion, I would, at the Hazard of any Consequence, be guided by it.

Here, now, will be shewn another Instance of our different Tempers: Dogget (who, in all Matters that concern'd our common Weal and Interest, little regarded our Opinion, and even to an Obstinacy walk'd by his own) look'd only out of Humour at what I had said, and, without thinking himself oblig'd to give any Reason for it, declar'd he would maintain his Property. Wilks (who, upon the same Occasions, was as remarkably ductile, as when his Superiority on the Stage was in question he was assuming and intractable) said, for his Part, provided our Business of acting was not interrupted, he did not care what we did: But, in short, he was for playing on, come what would of it. This last Part of his Declaration I did not dislike, and therefore I desir'd we might all enter into an immediate Treaty with Booth, upon the Terms of his Admission. Dogget still sullenly reply'd, that he had no Occasion to enter into any Treaty. Wilks then, to soften him, propos'd that, if I liked it, Dogget might undertake it himself. I agreed. No! he would not be concern'd in it. I then offer'd the same Trust to Wilks, if Dogget approv'd of it. Wilks said he was not good at making of Bargains, but if I was willing, he would rather leave it to me. Dogget at this rose up and said, we might both do as we pleas'd, but that nothing but the Law should make him part with his Property—and so went out of the Room. After which he never came among us more, either as an Actor or Menager.[108]

By his having in this abrupt manner abdicated his Post in our Government, what he left of it naturally devolv'd upon Wilks and myself. However, this did not so much distress our Affair as I have Reason to believe Dogget thought it would: For though by our Indentures tripartite we could not dispose of his Property without his Consent; Yet those Indentures could not oblige us to fast because he had no Appetite; and if the Mill did not grind, we could have no Bread: We therefore determin'd, at any Hazard, to keep our Business still going, and that our safest way would be to make the best Bargain we could with Booth; one Article of which was to be, That Booth should stand equally answerable with us to Dogget for the Consequence: To which Booth made no Objection, and the rest of his Agreement was to allow us Six Hundred Pounds for his Share in our Property, which was to be paid by such Sums as should arise from half his Profits of Acting, 'till the whole was discharg'd: Yet so cautious were we in this Affair, that this Agreement was only Verbal on our Part, tho' written and sign'd by Booth as what intirely contented him: However, Bond and Judgment could not have made it more secure to him; for he had his Share, and was able to discharge the Incumbrance upon it by his Income of that Year only. Let us see what Dogget did in this Affair after he had left us.

Might it not be imagin'd that Wilks and Myself, by having made this Matter easy to Booth, should have deserv'd the Approbation at least, if not the Favour of the Court that had exerted so much Power to prefer him? But shall I be believed when I affirm that Dogget, who had so strongly oppos'd the Court in his Admission to a Share, was very near getting the better of us both upon that Account, and for some time appeared to have more Favour there than either of us? Let me tell out my Story, and then think what you please of it.

Dogget, who was equally oblig'd with us to act upon the Stage, as to assist in the Menagement of it, tho' he had refus'd to do either, still demanded of us his whole Share of the Profits, without considering what Part of them Booth might pretend to from our late Concessions. After many fruitless Endeavours to bring him back to us, Booth join'd with us in making him an Offer of half a Share if he had a mind totally to quit the Stage, and make it a Sine-cure. No! he wanted the whole, and to sit still himself, while we (if we pleased) might work for him or let it alone, and none of us all, neither he nor we, be the better for it. What we imagin'd encourag'd him to hold us at this short Defiance was, that he had laid up enough to live upon without the Stage (for he was one of those close Oeconomists whom Prodigals call a Miser) and therefore, partly from an Inclination as an invincible Whig to signalize himself in defence of his Property, and as much presuming that our Necessities would oblige us to come to his own Terms, he was determin'd (even against the Opinion of his Friends) to make no other Peace with us. But not being able by this inflexible Perseverance to have his wicked Will of us, he was resolv'd to go to the Fountain-head of his own Distress, and try if from thence he could turn the Current against us. He appeal'd to the Vice-Chamberlain,[109] to whose Direction the adjusting of all these Theatrical Difficulties was then committed: But there, I dare say, the Reader does not expect he should meet with much Favour: However, be that as it may; for whether any regard was had to his having some Thousands in his Pocket; or that he was consider'd as a Man who would or could make more Noise in the Matter than Courtiers might care for: Or what Charms, Spells, or Conjurations he might make use of, is all Darkness to me; yet so it was, he one way or other play'd his part so well, that in a few Days after we received an Order from the Vice-Chamberlain, positively commanding us to pay Dogget his whole Share, notwithstanding we had complain'd before of his having withdrawn himself from acting on the Stage, and from the Menagement of it. This I thought was a dainty Distinction, indeed! that Dogget's Defiance of the Commands in favour of Booth should be rewarded with so ample a Sine-cure, and that we for our Obedience should be condemn'd to dig in the Mine to pay it him! This bitter Pill, I confess, was more than I could down with, and therefore soon determin'd at all Events never to take it. But as I had a Man in Power to deal with, it was not my business to speak out to him, or to set forth our Treatment in its proper Colours. My only Doubt was, Whether I could bring Wilks into the same Sentiments (for he never car'd to litigate any thing that did not affect his Figure upon the Stage.) But I had the good Fortune to lay our Condition in so precarious and disagreeable a Light to him, if we submitted to this Order, that he fir'd before I could get thro' half the Consequences of it; and I began now to find it more difficult to keep him within Bounds than I had before to alarm him. I then propos'd to him this Expedient: That we should draw up a Remonstrance, neither seeming to refuse or comply with this Order; but to start such Objections and perplexing Difficulties that should make the whole impracticable: That under such Distractions as this would raise in our Affairs we could not be answerable to keep open our Doors, which consequently would destroy the Fruit of the Favour lately granted to Booth, as well as of This intended to Dogget himself. To this Remonstrance we received an Answer in Writing, which varied something in the Measures to accommodate Matters with Dogget. This was all I desir'd; when I found the Style of Sic jubeo was alter'd, when this formidable Power began to parley with us, we knew there could not be much to be fear'd from it: For I would have remonstrated 'till I had died, rather than have yielded to the roughest or smoothest Persuasion, that could intimidate or deceive us. By this Conduct we made the Affair at last too troublesome for the Ease of a Courtier to go thro' with. For when it was consider'd that the principal Point, the Admission of Booth, was got over, Dogget was fairly left to the Law for Relief.[110]

Upon this Disappointment Dogget accordingly preferred a Bill in Chancery against us. Wilks, who hated all Business but that of entertaining the Publick, left the Conduct of our Cause to me; in which we had, at our first setting out, this Advantage of Dogget, that we had three Pockets to support our Expence, where he had but One. My first Direction to our Solicitor was, to use all possible Delay that the Law would admit of, a Direction that Lawyers seldom neglect; by this means we hung up our Plaintiff about two Years in Chancery, 'till we were at full Leisure to come to a Hearing before the Lord-Chancellor Cooper, which did not happen 'till after the Accession of his late Majesty. The Issue of it was this. Dogget had about fourteen Days allow'd him to make his Election whether he would return to act as usual: But he declaring, by his Counsel, That he rather chose to quit the Stage, he was decreed Six Hundred Pounds for his Share in our Property, with 15 per Cent. Interest from the Date of the last License: Upon the Receipt of which both Parties were to sign General-Releases, and severally to pay their own Costs. By this Decree, Dogget, when his Lawyer's Bill was paid, scarce got one Year's Purchase of what we had offer'd him without Law, which (as he surviv'd but seven Years after it) would have been an Annuity of Five Hundred Pounds and a Sine Cure for Life.[111]

Tho' there are many Persons living who know every Article of these Facts to be true: Yet it will be found that the strongest of them was not the strongest Occasion of Dogget's quitting the Stage. If therefore the Reader should not have Curiosity enough to know how the Publick came to be depriv'd of so valuable an Actor, let him consider that he is not obliged to go through the rest of this Chapter, which I fairly tell him before-hand will only be fill'd up with a few idle Anecdotes leading to that Discovery.

After our Law-suit was ended, Dogget for some few Years could scarce bear the Sight of Wilks or myself; tho' (as shall be shewn) for different Reasons: Yet it was his Misfortune to meet with us almost every Day. Button's Coffee-house, so celebrated in the Tatlers for the Good-Company that came there, was at this time in its highest Request. Addison, Steele, Pope, and several other Gentlemen of different Merit, then made it their constant Rendezvous. Nor could Dogget decline the agreeable Conversation there, tho' he was daily sure to find Wilks or myself in the same Place to sour his Share of it: For as Wilks and He were differently Proud, the one rejoicing in a captious, over-bearing, valiant Pride, and the other in a stiff, sullen, Purse-Pride, it may be easily conceiv'd, when two such Tempers met, how agreeable the Sight of one was to the other. And as Dogget knew I had been the Conductor of our Defence against his Law-suit, which had hurt him more for the Loss he had sustain'd in his Reputation of understanding Business, which he valued himself upon, than his Disappointment had of getting so little by it; it was no wonder if I was intirely out of his good Graces, which I confess I was inclin'd upon any reasonable Terms to have recover'd; he being of all my Theatrical Brethren the Man I most delighted in: For when he was not in a Fit of Wisdom, or not over-concerned about his Interest, he had a great deal of entertaining Humour: I therefore, notwithstanding his Reserve, always left the Door open to our former Intimacy, if he were inclined to come into it. I never failed to give him my Hat and Your Servant wherever I met him; neither of which he would ever return for above a Year after; but I still persisted in my usual Salutation, without observing whether it was civilly received or not. This ridiculous Silence between two Comedians, that had so lately liv'd in a constant Course of Raillery with one another, was often smil'd at by our Acquaintance who frequented the same Coffee-house: And one of them carried his Jest upon it so far, that when I was at some Distance from Town he wrote me a formal Account that Dogget was actually dead. After the first Surprize his Letter gave me was over, I began to consider, that this coming from a droll Friend to both of us, might possibly be written to extract some Merriment out of my real belief of it: In this I was not unwilling to gratify him, and returned an Answer as if I had taken the Truth of his News for granted; and was not a little pleas'd that I had so fair an Opportunity of speaking my Mind freely of Dogget, which I did, in some Favour of his Character; I excused his Faults, and was just to his Merit. His Law-suit with us I only imputed to his having naturally deceived himself in the Justice of his Cause. What I most complain'd of was, his irreconcilable Disaffection to me upon it, whom he could not reasonably blame for standing in my own Defence; that not to endure me after it was a Reflection upon his Sense, when all our Acquaintance had been Witnesses of our former Intimacy, which my Behaviour in his Life-time had plainly shewn him I had a mind to renew. But since he was now gone (however great a Churl he was to me) I was sorry my Correspondent had lost him.

This Part of my Letter I was sure, if Dogget's Eyes were still open, would be shewn to him; if not, I had only writ it to no Purpose. But about a Month after, when I came to Town, I had some little Reason to imagine it had the Effect I wish'd from it: For one Day, sitting over-against him at the same Coffee-house where we often mixt at the same Table, tho' we never exchanged a single Syllable, he graciously extended his Hand for a Pinch of my Snuff: As this seem'd from him a sort of breaking the Ice of his Temper, I took Courage upon it to break Silence on my Side, and ask'd him how he lik'd it? To which, with a slow Hesitation naturally assisted by the Action of his taking the Snuff, he reply'd—Umh! the best—Umh!—I have tasted a great while!—If the Reader, who may possibly think all this extremely trifling, will consider that Trifles sometimes shew Characters in as strong a Light as Facts of more serious Importance, I am in hopes he may allow that my Matter less needs an Excuse than the Excuse itself does; if not, I must stand condemn'd at the end of my Story.——But let me go on.

After a few Days of these coy, Lady-like Compliances on his Side, we grew into a more conversable Temper: At last I took a proper Occasion, and desired he would be so frank with me as to let me know what was his real Dislike, or Motive, that made him throw up so good an Income as his Share with us annually brought him in? For though by our Admission of Booth, it might not probably amount to so much by a Hundred or two a Year as formerly, yet the Remainder was too considerable to be quarrel'd with, and was likely to continue more than the best Actors before us had ever got by the Stage. And farther, to encourage him to be open, I told him, If I had done any thing that had particularly disobliged him, I was ready, if he could put me in the way, to make him any Amends in my Power; if not, I desired he would be so just to himself as to let me know the real Truth without Reserve: But Reserve he could not, from his natural Temper, easily shake off. All he said came from him by half Sentences and Inuendos, as—No, he had not taken any thing particularly ill—for his Part, he was very easy as he was; but where others were to dispose of his Property as they pleas'd—if you had stood it out as I did, Booth might have paid a better Price for it.—You were too much afraid of the Court—but that's all over.—There were other things in the Play-house.—No Man of Spirit.—In short, to be always pester'd and provok'd by a trifling Wasp—a—vain—shallow!—A Man would sooner beg his Bread than bear it—(Here it was easy to understand him: I therefore ask'd him what he had to bear that I had not my Share of?) No! it was not the same thing, he said.—You can play with a Bear, or let him alone and do what he would, but I could not let him lay his Paws upon me without being hurt; you did not feel him as I did.—And for a Man to be cutting of Throats upon every Trifle at my time of Day!—If I had been as covetous as he thought me, may be I might have born it as well as you—but I would not be a Lord of the Treasury if such a Temper as Wilks's were to be at the Head of it.

Here, then, the whole Secret was out. The rest of our Conversation was but explaining upon it. In a Word, the painful Behaviour of Wilks had hurt him so sorely that the Affair of Booth was look'd upon as much a Relief as a Grievance, in giving him so plausible a Pretence to get rid of us all with a better Grace.

Booth too, in a little time, had his Share of the same Uneasiness, and often complain'd of it to me: Yet as we neither of us could then afford to pay Dogget's Price for our Remedy, all we could do was to avoid every Occasion in our Power of inflaming the Distemper: So that we both agreed, tho' Wilks's Nature was not to be changed, it was a less Evil to live with him than without him.

Tho' I had often suspected, from what I had felt myself, that the Temper of Wilks was Dogget's real Quarrel to the Stage, yet I could never thoroughly believe it 'till I had it from his own Mouth. And I then thought the Concern he had shewn at it was a good deal inconsistent with that Understanding which was generally allow'd him. When I give my Reasons for it, perhaps the Reader will not have a better Opinion of my own: Be that as it may, I cannot help wondering that he who was so much more capable of Reflexion than Wilks, could sacrifice so valuable an Income to his Impatience of another's natural Frailty! And though my Stoical way of thinking may be no Rule for a wiser Man's Opinion, yet, if it should happen to be right, the Reader may make his Use of it. Why then should we not always consider that the Rashness of Abuse is but the false Reason of a weak Man? and that offensive Terms are only used to supply the want of Strength in Argument? Which, as to the common Practice of the sober World, we do not find every Man in Business is oblig'd to resent with a military Sense of Honour: Or if he should, would not the Conclusion amount to this? Because another wants Sense and Manners I am obliged to be a Madman: For such every Man is, more or less, while the Passion of Anger is in Possession of him. And what less can we call that proud Man who would put another out of the World only for putting him out of Humour? If Accounts of the Tongue were always to be made up with the Sword, all the Wisemen in the World might be brought in Debtors to Blockheads. And when Honour pretends to be Witness, Judge, and Executioner in its own Cause, if Honour were a Man, would it be an Untruth to say Honour is a very impudent Fellow? But in Dogget's Case it may be ask'd, How was he to behave himself? Were passionate Insults to be born for Years together? To these Questions I can only answer with two or three more, Was he to punish himself because another was in the wrong? How many sensible Husbands endure the teizing Tongue of a froward Wife only because she is the weaker Vessel? And why should not a weak Man have the same Indulgence? Daily Experience will tell us that the fretful Temper of a Friend, like the Personal Beauty of a fine Lady, by Use and Cohabitation may be brought down to give us neither Pain nor Pleasure. Such, at least, and no more, was the Distress I found myself in upon the same Provocations, which I generally return'd with humming an Air to myself; or if the Storm grew very high, it might perhaps sometimes ruffle me enough to sing a little out of Tune. Thus too (if I had any ill Nature to gratify) I often saw the unruly Passion of the Aggressor's Mind punish itself by a restless Disorder of the Body.

What inclines me, therefore, to think the Conduct of Dogget was as rash as the Provocations he complain'd of, is that in some time after he had left us he plainly discover'd he had repented it. His Acquaintance observ'd to us, that he sent many a long Look after his Share in the still prosperous State of the Stage: But as his Heart was too high to declare (what we saw too) his shy Inclination to return, he made us no direct Overtures. Nor, indeed, did we care (though he was a golden Actor) to pay too dear for him: For as most of his Parts had been pretty well supply'd, he could not now be of his former Value to us. However, to shew the Town at least that he had not forsworn the Stage, he one Day condescended to play for the Benefit of Mrs. Porter,[112] in the Wanton Wife, at which he knew his late Majesty was to be present.[113] Now (tho' I speak it not of my own Knowledge) yet it was not likely Mrs. Porter would have ask'd that Favour of him without some previous Hint that it would be granted. His coming among us for that Day only had a strong Appearance of his laying it in our way to make him Proposals, or that he hoped the Court or Town might intimate to us their Desire of seeing him oftener: But as he acted only to do a particular Favour, the Menagers ow'd him no Compliment for it beyond Common Civilities. And, as that might not be all he proposed by it, his farther Views (if he had any) came to nothing. For after this Attempt he never returned to the Stage.

To speak of him as an Actor: He was the most an Original, and the strictest Observer of Nature, of all his Contemporaries.[114] He borrow'd from none of them: His Manner was his own: He was a Pattern to others, whose greatest Merit was that they had sometimes tolerably imitated him. In dressing a Character to the greatest Exactness he was remarkably skilful; the least Article of whatever Habit he wore seem'd in some degree to speak and mark the different Humour he presented; a necessary Care in a Comedian, in which many have been too remiss or ignorant. He could be extremely ridiculous without stepping into the least Impropriety to make him so. His greatest Success was in Characters of lower Life, which he improv'd from the Delight he took in his Observations of that Kind in the real World. In Songs, and particular Dances, too, of Humour, he had no Competitor. Congreve was a great Admirer of him, and found his Account in the Characters he expressly wrote for him. In those of Fondlewife, in his Old Batchelor, and Ben, in Love for Love, no Author and Actor could be more obliged to their mutual masterly Performances. He was very acceptable to several Persons of high Rank and Taste: Tho' he seldom car'd to be the Comedian but among his more intimate Acquaintance.

And now let me ask the World a Question. When Men have any valuable Qualities, why are the generality of our modern Wits so fond of exposing their Failings only, which the wisest of Mankind will never wholly be free from? Is it of more use to the Publick to know their Errors than their Perfections? Why is the Account of Life to be so unequally stated? Though a Man may be sometimes Debtor to Sense or Morality, is it not doing him Wrong not to let the World see, at the same time, how far he may be Creditor to both? Are Defects and Disproportions to be the only labour'd Features in a Portrait? But perhaps such Authors may know how to please the World better than I do, and may naturally suppose that what is delightful to themselves may not be disagreeable to others. For my own part, I confess myself a little touch'd in Conscience at what I have just now observ'd to the Disadvantage of my other Brother-Menager.

If, therefore, in discovering the true Cause of the Publick's losing so valuable an Actor as Dogget, I have been obliged to shew the Temper of Wilks in its natural Complexion, ought I not, in amends and Balance of his Imperfections, to say at the same time of him, That if he was not the most Correct or Judicious, yet (as Hamlet says of the King his Father) Take him for All in All, &c. he was certainly the most diligent, most laborious, and most useful Actor that I have seen upon the Stage in Fifty Years.[115]


Ad Lalauze, sc

CHAPTER XV.

Sir Richard Steele succeeds Collier in the Theatre-Royal. Lincoln's-Inn-Fields House rebuilt. The Patent restored. Eight Actors at once desert from the King's Company. Why. A new Patent obtain'd by Sir Richard Steele, and assign'd in Shares to the menaging Actors of Drury-Lane. Of modern Pantomimes. The Rise of them. Vanity invincible and asham'd. The Non-juror acted. The Author not forgiven, and rewarded for it.

Upon the Death of the Queen, Plays (as they always had been on the like Occasions) were silenc'd for six Weeks. But this happening on the first of August,[116] in the long Vacation of the Theatre, the Observance of that Ceremony, which at another Juncture would have fallen like wet Weather upon their Harvest, did them now no particular Damage. Their License, however, being of course to be renewed, that Vacation gave the Menagers Time to cast about for the better Alteration of it: And since they knew the Pension of seven hundred a Year, which had been levied upon them for Collier, must still be paid to somebody, they imagined the Merit of a Whig might now have as good a Chance for getting into it, as that of a Tory had for being continued in it: Having no Obligations, therefore, to Collier, who had made the last Penny of them, they apply'd themselves to Sir Richard Steele, who had distinguished himself by his Zeal for the House of Hanover, and had been expell'd the House of Commons for carrying it (as was judg'd at a certain Crisis) into a Reproach of the Government. This we knew was his Pretension to that Favour in which he now stood at Court: We knew, too, the Obligations the Stage had to his Writings; there being scarce a Comedian of Merit in our whole Company whom his Tatlers had not made better by his publick Recommendation of them. And many Days had our House been particularly fill'd by the Influence and Credit of his Pen. Obligations of this kind from a Gentleman with whom they all had the Pleasure of a personal Intimacy, the Menagers thought could not be more justly return'd than by shewing him some warm Instance of their Desire to have him at the Head of them. We therefore beg'd him to use his Interest for the Renewal of our License, and that he would do us the Honour of getting our Names to stand with His in the same Commission. This, we told him, would put it still farther into his Power of supporting the Stage in that Reputation, to which his Lucubrations had already so much contributed; and that therefore we thought no Man had better Pretences to partake of its Success.[117]

Though it may be no Addition to the favourable Part of this Gentleman's Character to say with what Pleasure he receiv'd this Mark of our Inclination to him, yet my Vanity longs to tell you that it surpriz'd him into an Acknowledgment that People who are shy of Obligations are cautious of confessing. His Spirits took such a lively turn upon it, that had we been all his own Sons, no unexpected Act of filial Duty could have more endear'd us to him.

It must be observ'd, then, that as Collier had no Share in any Part of our Property, no Difficulties from that Quarter could obstruct this Proposal. And the usual Time of our beginning to act for the Winter-Season now drawing near, we press'd him not to lose any Time in his Solicitation of this new License. Accordingly Sir Richard apply'd himself to the Duke of Marlborough, the Hero of his Heart, who, upon the first mention of it, obtain'd it of his Majesty for Sir Richard and the former Menagers who were Actors. Collier we heard no more of.[118]

The Court and Town being crowded very early in the Winter-Season, upon the critical Turn of Affairs so much expected from the Hanover Succession, the Theatre had its particular Share of that general Blessing by a more than ordinary Concourse of Spectators.

About this Time the Patentee, having very near finish'd his House in Lincoln's-Inn Fields, began to think of forming a new Company; and in the mean time found it necessary to apply for Leave to employ them. By the weak Defence he had always made against the several Attacks upon his Interest and former Government of the Theatre, it might be a Question, if his House had been ready in the Queen's Time, whether he would then have had the Spirit to ask, or Interest enough to obtain Leave to use it: But in the following Reign, as it did not appear he had done any thing to forfeit the Right of his Patent, he prevail'd with Mr. Craggs the Younger (afterwards Secretary of State) to lay his Case before the King, which he did in so effectual a manner that (as Mr. Craggs himself told me) his Majesty was pleas'd to say upon it, "That he remember'd when he had been in England before, in King Charles his Time, there had been two Theatres in London; and as the Patent seem'd to be a lawful Grant, he saw no Reason why Two Play-houses might not be continued."[119]

The Suspension of the Patent being thus taken off, the younger Multitude seem'd to call aloud for two Play-houses! Many desired another, from the common Notion that Two would always create Emulation in the Actors (an Opinion which I have consider'd in a former Chapter). Others, too, were as eager for them, from the natural Ill-will that follows the Fortunate or Prosperous in any Undertaking. Of this low Malevolence we had, now and then, had remarkable Instances; we had been forced to dismiss an Audience of a hundred and fifty Pounds, from a Disturbance spirited up by obscure People, who never gave any better Reason for it, than that it was their Fancy to support the idle Complaint of one rival Actress against another, in their several Pretensions to the chief Part in a new Tragedy. But as this Tumult seem'd only to be the Wantonness of English Liberty, I shall not presume to lay any farther Censure upon it.[120]

Now, notwithstanding this publick Desire of reestablishing two Houses; and though I have allow'd the former Actors greatly our Superiors; and the Menagers I am speaking of not to have been without their private Errors: Yet under all these Disadvantages, it is certain the Stage, for twenty Years before this time, had never been in so flourishing a Condition: And it was as evident to all sensible Spectators that this Prosperity could be only owing to that better Order and closer Industry now daily observ'd, and which had formerly been neglected by our Predecessors. But that I may not impose upon the Reader a Merit which was not generally allow'd us, I ought honestly to let him know, that about this time the publick Papers, particularly Mist's Journal, took upon them very often to censure our Menagement, with the same Freedom and Severity as if we had been so many Ministers of State: But so it happen'd, that these unfortunate Reformers of the World, these self-appointed Censors, hardly ever hit upon what was really wrong in us; but taking up Facts upon Trust, or Hear-say, piled up many a pompous Paragraph that they had ingeniously conceiv'd was sufficient to demolish our Administration, or at least to make us very uneasy in it; which, indeed, had so far its Effect, that my equally-injur'd Brethren, Wilks and Booth, often complain'd to me of these disagreeable Aspersions, and propos'd that some publick Answer might be made to them, which I always oppos'd by, perhaps, too secure a Contempt of what such Writers could do to hurt us; and my Reason for it was, that I knew but of one way to silence Authors of that Stamp; which was, to grow insignificant and good for nothing, and then we should hear no more of them: But while we continued in the Prosperity of pleasing others, and were not conscious of having deserv'd what they said of us, why should we gratify the little Spleen of our Enemies by wincing at it,[121] or give them fresh Opportunities to dine upon any Reply they might make to our publickly taking Notice of them? And though Silence might in some Cases be a sign of Guilt or Error confess'd, our Accusers were so low in their Credit and Sense, that the Content we gave the Publick almost every Day from the Stage ought to be our only Answer to them.

However (as I have observ'd) we made many Blots, which these unskilful Gamesters never hit: But the Fidelity of an Historian cannot be excus'd the Omission of any Truth which might make for the other Side of the Question. I shall therefore confess a Fact, which, if a happy Accident had not intervened, had brought our Affairs into a very tottering Condition. This, too, is that Fact which in a former Chapter I promis'd to set forth as a Sea-Mark of Danger to future Menagers in their Theatrical Course of Government.[122]

When the new-built Theatre in Lincoln's-Inn Fields was ready to be open'd, seven or eight Actors in one Day deserted from us to the Service of the Enemy,[123] which oblig'd us to postpone many of our best Plays for want of some inferior Part in them which these Deserters had been used to fill: But the Indulgence of the Royal Family, who then frequently honour'd us by their Presence, was pleas'd to accept of whatever could be hastily got ready for their Entertainment. And tho' this critical good Fortune prevented, in some measure, our Audiences falling so low as otherwise they might have done, yet it was not sufficient to keep us in our former Prosperity: For that Year our Profits amounted not to above a third Part of our usual Dividends; tho' in the following Year we intirely recover'd them. The Chief of these Deserters were Keene, Bullock, Pack,[124] Leigh, Son of the famous Tony Leigh,[125] and others of less note. 'Tis true, they none of them had more than a negative Merit, in being only able to do us more Harm by their leaving us without Notice, than they could do us Good by remaining with us: For though the best of them could not support a Play, the worst of them by their Absence could maim it; as the Loss of the least Pin in a Watch may obstruct its Motion. But to come to the true Cause of their Desertion: After my having discover'd the (long unknown) Occasion that drove Dogget from the Stage before his settled Inclination to leave it, it will be less incredible that these Actors, upon the first Opportunity to relieve themselves, should all in one Day have left us from the same Cause of Uneasiness. For, in a little time after, upon not finding their Expectations answer'd in Lincoln's-Inn Fields, some of them, who seem'd to answer for the rest, told me the greatest Grievance they had in our Company was the shocking Temper of Wilks, who, upon every, almost no Occasion, let loose the unlimited Language of Passion upon them in such a manner as their Patience was not longer able to support. This, indeed, was what we could not justify! This was a Secret that might have made a wholesome Paragraph in a critical News-Paper! But as it was our good Fortune that it came not to the Ears of our Enemies, the Town was not entertain'd with their publick Remarks upon it.[126]

After this new Theatre had enjoy'd that short Run of Favour which is apt to follow Novelty, their Audiences began to flag: But whatever good Opinion we had of our own Merit, we had not so good a one of the Multitude as to depend too much upon the Delicacy of their Taste: We knew, too, that this Company, being so much nearer to the City than we were, would intercept many an honest Customer that might not know a good Market from a bad one; and that the thinnest of their Audiences must be always taking something from the Measure of our Profits. All these Disadvantages, with many others, we were forced to lay before Sir Richard Steele, and farther to remonstrate to him, that as he now stood in Collier's Place, his Pension of 700l. was liable to the same Conditions that Collier had receiv'd it upon; which were, that it should be only payable during our being the only Company permitted to act, but in case another should be set up against us, that then this Pension was to be liquidated into an equal Share with us; and which we now hoped he would be contented with. While we were offering to proceed, Sir Richard stopt us short by assuring us, that as he came among us by our own Invitation, he should always think himself oblig'd to come into any Measures for our Ease and Service: That to be a Burthen to our Industry would be more disagreeable to him than it could be to us; and as he had always taken a Delight in his Endeavours for our Prosperity, he should be still ready on our own Terms to continue them. Every one who knew Sir Richard Steele in his Prosperity (before the Effects of his Good-nature had brought him to Distresses) knew that this was his manner of dealing with his Friends in Business: Another Instance of the same nature will immediately fall in my way.


RICHARD STEELE.


When we proposed to put this Agreement into Writing, he desired us not to hurry ourselves; for that he was advised, upon the late Desertion of our Actors, to get our License (which only subsisted during Pleasure) enlarg'd into a more ample and durable Authority, and which he said he had Reason to think would be more easily obtain'd, if we were willing that a Patent for the same Purpose might be granted to him only, for his Life and three Years after, which he would then assign over to us. This was a Prospect beyond our Hopes; and what we had long wish'd for; for though I cannot say we had ever Reason to grieve at the Personal Severities or Behaviour of any one Lord-Chamberlain in my Time, yet the several Officers under them who had not the Hearts of Noblemen, often treated us (to use Shakespear's Expression) with all the Insolence of Office that narrow Minds are apt to be elated with; but a Patent, we knew, would free us from so abject a State of Dependency. Accordingly, we desired Sir Richard to lose no time; he was immediately promised it: In the Interim, we sounded the Inclination of the Actors remaining with us; who had all Sense enough to know, that the Credit and Reputation we stood in with the Town, could not but be a better Security for their Sallaries, than the Promise of any other Stage put into Bonds could make good to them. In a few Days after, Sir Richard told us, that his Majesty being apprised that others had a joint Power with him in the License, it was expected we should, under our Hands, signify that his Petition for a Patent was preferr'd by the Consent of us all. Such an Acknowledgment was immediately sign'd, and the Patent thereupon pass'd the Great Seal; for which I remember the Lord Chancellor Cooper, in Compliment to Sir Richard, would receive no Fee.

We receiv'd the Patent January 19, 1715,[127] and (Sir Richard being obliged the next Morning to set out for Burrowbridge in Yorkshire, where he was soon after elected Member of Parliament) we were forced that very Night to draw up in a hurry ('till our Counsel might more adviseably perfect it) his Assignment to us of equal Shares in the Patent, with farther Conditions of Partnership:[128] But here I ought to take Shame to myself, and at the same time to give this second Instance of the Equity and Honour of Sir Richard: For this Assignment (which I had myself the hasty Penning of) was so worded, that it gave Sir Richard as equal a Title to our Property as it had given us to his Authority in the Patent: But Sir Richard, notwithstanding, when he return'd to Town, took no Advantage of the Mistake, and consented in our second Agreement to pay us Twelve Hundred Pounds to be equally intitled to our Property, which at his Death we were obliged to repay (as we afterwards did) to his Executors; and which, in case any of us had died before him, the Survivors were equally obliged to have paid to the Executors of such deceased Person upon the same Account. But Sir Richard's Moderation with us was rewarded with the Reverse of Collier's Stiffness: Collier, by insisting on his Pension, lost Three Hundred Pounds a Year; and Sir Richard, by his accepting a Share in lieu of it, was, one Year with another, as much a Gainer.

The Grant of this Patent having assured us of a competent Term to be relied on, we were now emboldened to lay out larger Sums in the Decorations of our Plays:[129] Upon the Revival of Dryden's All for Love, the Habits of that Tragedy amounted to an Expence of near Six Hundred Pounds; a Sum unheard of, for many Years before, on the like Occasions.[130] But we thought such extraordinary Marks of our Acknowledgment were due to the Favours which the Publick were now again pouring in upon us. About this time we were so much in fashion, and follow'd, that our Enemies (who they were it would not be fair to guess, for we never knew them) made their Push of a good round Lye upon us, to terrify those Auditors from our Support whom they could not mislead by their private Arts or publick Invectives. A current Report that the Walls and Roof of our House were liable to fall, had got such Ground in the Town, that on a sudden we found our Audiences unusually decreased by it: Wilks was immediately for denouncing War and Vengeance on the Author of this Falshood, and for offering a Reward to whoever could discover him. But it was thought more necessary first to disprove the Falshood, and then to pay what Compliments might be thought adviseable to the Author. Accordingly an Order from the King was obtained, to have our Tenement surveyed by Sir Thomas Hewet, then the proper Officer; whose Report of its being in a safe and sound Condition, and sign'd by him, was publish'd in every News-Paper.[131] This had so immediate an Effect, that our Spectators, whose Apprehensions had lately kept them absent, now made up our Losses by returning to us with a fresh Inclination and in greater Numbers.

When it was first publickly known that the New Theatre would be open'd against us; I cannot help going a little back to remember the Concern that my Brother-Menagers express'd at what might be the Consequences of it. They imagined that now all those who wish'd Ill to us, and particularly a great Party who had been disobliged by our shutting them out from behind our Scenes, even to the Refusal of their Money,[132] would now exert themselves in any partial or extravagant Measures that might either hurt us or support our Competitors: These, too, were some of those farther Reasons which had discouraged them from running the hazard of continuing to Sir Richard Steele the same Pension which had been paid to Collier. Upon all which I observed to them, that, for my own Part, I had not the same Apprehensions; but that I foresaw as many good as bad Consequences from two Houses: That tho' the Novelty might possibly at first abate a little of our Profits; yet, if we slacken'd not our Industry, that Loss would be amply balanced by an equal Increase of our Ease and Quiet: That those turbulent Spirits which were always molesting us, would now have other Employment: That the question'd Merit of our Acting would now stand in a clearer Light when others were faintly compared to us: That though Faults might be found with the best Actors that ever were, yet the egregious Defects that would appear in others would now be the effectual means to make our Superiority shine, if we had any Pretence to it: And that what some People hoped might ruin us, would in the end reduce them to give up the Dispute, and reconcile them to those who could best entertain them.

In every Article of this Opinion they afterwards found I had not been deceived; and the Truth of it may be so well remember'd by many living Spectators, that it would be too frivolous and needless a Boast to give it any farther Observation.

But in what I have said I would not be understood to be an Advocate for two Play-houses: For we shall soon find that two Sets of Actors tolerated in the same Place have constantly ended in the Corruption of the Theatre; of which the auxiliary Entertainments that have so barbarously supply'd the Defects of weak Action have, for some Years past, been a flagrant Instance; it may not, therefore, be here improper to shew how our childish Pantomimes first came to take so gross a Possession of the Stage.

I have upon several occasions already observ'd, that when one Company is too hard for another, the lower in Reputation has always been forced to exhibit some new-fangled Foppery to draw the Multitude after them: Of these Expedients, Singing and Dancing had formerly been the most effectual;[133] but, at the Time I am speaking of, our English Musick had been so discountenanced since the Taste of Italian Operas prevail'd, that it was to no purpose to pretend to it.[134] Dancing therefore was now the only Weight in the opposite Scale, and as the New Theatre sometimes found their Account in it, it could not be safe for us wholly to neglect it. To give even Dancing therefore some Improvement, and to make it something more than Motion without Meaning, the Fable of Mars and Venus[135] was form'd into a connected Presentation of Dances in Character, wherein the Passions were so happily expressed, and the whole Story so intelligibly told by a mute Narration of Gesture only, that even thinking Spectators allow'd it both a pleasing and a rational Entertainment; though, at the same time, from our Distrust of its Reception, we durst not venture to decorate it with any extraordinary Expence of Scenes or Habits; but upon the Success of this Attempt it was rightly concluded, that if a visible Expence in both were added to something of the same Nature, it could not fail of drawing the Town proportionably after it. From this original Hint then (but every way unequal to it) sprung forth that Succession of monstrous Medlies that have so long infested the Stage, and which arose upon one another alternately, at both Houses outvying in Expence, like contending Bribes on both sides at an Election, to secure a Majority of the Multitude. But so it is, Truth may complain and Merit murmur with what Justice it may, the Few will never be a Match for the Many, unless Authority should think fit to interpose and put down these Poetical Drams, these Gin-shops of the Stage, that intoxicate its Auditors and dishonour their Understanding with a Levity for which I want a Name.[136]

If I am ask'd (after my condemning these Fooleries myself) how I came to assent or continue my Share of Expence to them? I have no better Excuse for my Error than confessing it. I did it against my Conscience! and had not Virtue enough to starve by opposing a Multitude that would have been too hard for me.[137] Now let me ask an odd Question: Had Harry the Fourth of France a better Excuse for changing his Religion?[138] I was still, in my Heart, as much as he could be, on the side of Truth and Sense, but with this difference, that I had their leave to quit them when they could not support me: For what Equivalent could I have found for my falling a Martyr to them? How far the Heroe or the Comedian was in the wrong, let the Clergy and the Criticks decide. Necessity will be as good a Plea for the one as the other. But let the Question go which way it will, Harry IV. has always been allow'd a great Man: And what I want of his Grandeur, you see by the Inference, Nature has amply supply'd to me in Vanity; a Pleasure which neither the Pertness of Wit or the Gravity of Wisdom will ever persuade me to part with. And why is there not as much Honesty in owning as in concealing it? For though to hide it may be Wisdom, to be without it is impossible; and where is the Merit of keeping a Secret which every Body is let into? To say we have no Vanity, then, is shewing a great deal of it; as to say we have a great deal cannot be shewing so much: And tho' there may be Art in a Man's accusing himself, even then it will be more pardonable than Self-commendation. Do not we find that even good Actions have their Share of it? that it is as inseparable from our Being as our Nakedness? And though it may be equally decent to cover it, yet the wisest Man can no more be without it, than the weakest can believe he was born in his Cloaths. If then what we say of ourselves be true, and not prejudicial to others, to be called vain upon it is no more a Reproach than to be called a brown or a fair Man. Vanity is of all Complexions; 'tis the growth of every Clime and Capacity; Authors of all Ages have had a Tincture of it; and yet you read Horace, Montaign, and Sir William Temple, with Pleasure. Nor am I sure, if it were curable by Precept, that Mankind would be mended by it! Could Vanity be eradicated from our Nature, I am afraid that the Reward of most human Virtues would not be found in this World! And happy is he who has no greater Sin to answer for in the next!

But what is all this to the Theatrical Follies I was talking of? Perhaps not a great deal; but it is to my Purpose; for though I am an Historian, I do not write to the Wise and Learned only; I hope to have Readers of no more Judgment than some of my quondam Auditors; and I am afraid they will be as hardly contented with dry Matters of Fact, as with a plain Play without Entertainments: This Rhapsody, therefore, has been thrown in as a Dance between the Acts, to make up for the Dullness of what would have been by itself only proper. But I now come to my Story again.

Notwithstanding, then, this our Compliance with the vulgar Taste, we generally made use of these Pantomimes but as Crutches to our weakest Plays: Nor were we so lost to all Sense of what was valuable as to dishonour our best Authors in such bad Company: We had still a due Respect to several select Plays that were able to be their own Support; and in which we found our constant Account, without painting and patching them out, like Prostitutes, with these Follies in fashion: If therefore we were not so strictly chaste in the other part of our Conduct, let the Error of it stand among the silly Consequences of Two Stages. Could the Interest of both Companies have been united in one only Theatre, I had been one of the Few that would have us'd my utmost Endeavour of never admitting to the Stage any Spectacle that ought not to have been seen there; the Errors of my own Plays, which I could not see, excepted. And though probably the Majority of Spectators would not have been so well pleas'd with a Theatre so regulated; yet Sense and Reason cannot lose their intrinsick Value because the Giddy and the Ignorant are blind and deaf, or numerous; and I cannot help saying, it is a Reproach to a sensible People to let Folly so publickly govern their Pleasures.

While I am making this grave Declaration of what I would have done had One only Stage been continued; to obtain an easier Belief of my Sincerity I ought to put my Reader in mind of what I did do, even after Two Companies were again establish'd.

About this Time Jacobitism had lately exerted itself by the most unprovoked Rebellion that our Histories have handed down to us since the Norman Conquest:[139] I therefore thought that to set the Authors and Principles of that desperate Folly in a fair Light, by allowing the mistaken Consciences of some their best Excuse, and by making the artful Pretenders to Conscience as ridiculous as they were ungratefully wicked, was a Subject fit for the honest Satire of Comedy, and what might, if it succeeded, do Honour to the Stage by shewing the valuable Use of it.[140] And considering what Numbers at that time might come to it as prejudic'd Spectators, it may be allow'd that the Undertaking was not less hazardous than laudable.

To give Life, therefore, to this Design, I borrow'd the Tartuffe of Moliere, and turn'd him into a modern Nonjuror:[141] Upon the Hypocrisy of the French Character I ingrafted a stronger Wickedness, that of an English Popish Priest lurking under the Doctrine of our own Church to raise his Fortune upon the Ruin of a worthy Gentleman, whom his dissembled Sanctity had seduc'd into the treasonable Cause of a Roman Catholick Out-law. How this Design, in the Play, was executed, I refer to the Readers of it; it cannot be mended by any critical Remarks I can make in its favour: Let it speak for itself. All the Reason I had to think it no bad Performance was, that it was acted eighteen Days running,[142] and that the Party that were hurt by it (as I have been told) have not been the smallest Number of my back Friends ever since. But happy was it for this Play that the very Subject was its Protection; a few Smiles of silent Contempt were the utmost Disgrace that on the first Day of its Appearance it was thought safe to throw upon it; as the Satire was chiefly employ'd on the Enemies of the Government, they were not so hardy as to own themselves such by any higher Disapprobation or Resentment. But as it was then probable I might write again, they knew it would not be long before they might with more Security give a Loose to their Spleen, and make up Accounts with me. And to do them Justice, in every Play I afterwards produced they paid me the Balance to a Tittle.[143] But to none was I more beholden than that celebrated Author Mr. Mist, whose Weekly Journal,[144] for about fifteen Years following, scarce ever fail'd of passing some of his Party Compliments upon me: The State and the Stage were his frequent Parallels, and the Minister and Minheer Keiber the Menager were as constantly droll'd upon: Now, for my own Part, though I could never persuade my Wit to have an open Account with him (for as he had no Effects of his own, I did not think myself oblig'd to answer his Bills;) notwithstanding, I will be so charitable to his real Manes, and to the Ashes of his Paper, as to mention one particular Civility he paid to my Memory, after he thought he had ingeniously kill'd me. Soon after the Nonjuror had receiv'd the Favour of the Town, I read in one of his Journals the following short Paragraph, viz. Yesterday died Mr. Colley Cibber, late Comedian of the Theatre-Royal, notorious for writing the Nonjuror. The Compliment in the latter part I confess I did not dislike, because it came from so impartial a Judge; and it really so happen'd that the former part of it was very near being true; for I had that very Day just crawled out, after having been some Weeks laid up by a Fever: However, I saw no use in being thought to be thoroughly dead before my Time, and therefore had a mind to see whether the Town cared to have me alive again: So the Play of the Orphan being to be acted that Day, I quietly stole myself into the Part of the Chaplain, which I had not been seen in for many Years before. The Surprize of the Audience at my unexpected Appearance on the very Day I had been dead in the News, and the Paleness of my Looks, seem'd to make it a Doubt whether I was not the Ghost of my real Self departed: But when I spoke, their Wonder eas'd itself by an Applause; which convinc'd me they were then satisfied that my Friend Mist had told a Fib of me. Now, if simply to have shown myself in broad Life, and about my Business, after he had notoriously reported me dead, can be called a Reply, it was the only one which his Paper while alive ever drew from me. How far I may be vain, then, in supposing that this Play brought me into the Disfavour of so many Wits[145] and valiant Auditors as afterwards appear'd against me, let those who may think it worth their Notice judge. In the mean time, 'till I can find a better Excuse for their sometimes particular Treatment of me, I cannot easily give up my Suspicion: And if I add a more remarkable Fact, that afterwards confirm'd me in it, perhaps it may incline others to join in my Opinion.

On the first Day of the Provok'd Husband, ten Years after the Nonjuror had appear'd,[146] a powerful Party, not having the Fear of publick Offence or private Injury before their Eyes, appear'd most impetuously concern'd for the Demolition of it; in which they so far succeeded, that for some Time I gave it up for lost; and to follow their Blows, in the publick Papers of the next Day it was attack'd and triumph'd over as a dead and damn'd Piece; a swinging Criticism was made upon it in general invective Terms, for they disdain'd to trouble the World with Particulars; their Sentence, it seems, was Proof enough of its deserving the Fate it had met with. But this damn'd Play was, notwithstanding, acted twenty-eight Nights together, and left off at a Receipt of upwards of a hundred and forty Pounds; which happen'd to be more than in fifty Years before could be then said of any one Play whatsoever.

Now, if such notable Behaviour could break out upon so successful a Play (which too, upon the Share Sir John Vanbrugh had in it, I will venture to call a good one) what shall we impute it to? Why may not I plainly say, it was not the Play, but Me, who had a Hand in it, they did not like? And for what Reason? if they were not asham'd of it, why did not they publish it? No! the Reason had publish'd itself, I was the Author of the Nonjuror! But, perhaps, of all Authors, I ought not to make this sort of Complaint, because I have Reason to think that that particular Offence has made me more honourable Friends than Enemies; the latter of which I am not unwilling should know (however unequal the Merit may be to the Reward) that Part of the Bread I now eat was given me for having writ the Nonjuror.[147]

And yet I cannot but lament, with many quiet Spectators, the helpless Misfortune that has so many Years attended the Stage! That no Law has had Force enough to give it absolute Protection! for 'till we can civilize its Auditors, the Authors that write for it will seldom have a greater Call to it than Necessity; and how unlikely is the Imagination of the Needy to inform or delight the Many in Affluence? or how often does Necessity make many unhappy Gentlemen turn Authors in spite of Nature?

What a Blessing, therefore, is it! what an enjoy'd Deliverance! after a Wretch has been driven by Fortune to stand so many wanton Buffets of unmanly Fierceness, to find himself at last quietly lifted above the Reach of them!

But let not this Reflection fall upon my Auditors without Distinction; for though Candour and Benevolence are silent Virtues, they are as visible as the most vociferous Ill-nature; and I confess the Publick has given me more frequently Reason to be thankful than to complain.


Ad Lalauze, sc

CHAPTER XVI.

The Author steps out of his Way. Pleads his Theatrical Cause in Chancery. Carries it. Plays acted at Hampton-Court. Theatrical Anecdotes in former Reigns. Ministers and Menagers always censur'd. The Difficulty of supplying the Stage with good Actors consider'd. Courtiers and Comedians govern'd by the same Passions. Examples of both. The Author quits the Stage. Why.

Having brought the Government of the Stage through such various Changes and Revolutions, to this settled State in which it continued to almost the Time of my leaving it;[148] it cannot be suppos'd that a Period of so much Quiet and so long a Train of Success (though happy for those who enjoy'd it) can afford such Matter of Surprize or Amusement, as might arise from Times of more Distress and Disorder. A quiet Time in History, like a Calm in a Voyage, leaves us but in an indolent Station: To talk of our Affairs when they were no longer ruffled by Misfortunes, would be a Picture without Shade, a flat Performance at best. As I might, therefore, throw all that tedious Time of our Tranquillity into one Chasm in my History, and cut my Way short at once to my last Exit from the Stage, I shall at least fill it up with such Matter only as I have a mind should be known,[149] how few soever may have Patience to read it: Yet, as I despair not of some Readers who may be most awake when they think others have most occasion to sleep; who may be more pleas'd to find me languid than lively, or in the wrong than in the right; why should I scruple (when it is so easy a Matter too) to gratify their particular Taste by venturing upon any Error that I like, or the Weakness of my Judgment misleads me to commit? I think, too, I have a very good Chance for my Success in this passive Ambition, by shewing myself in a Light I have not been seen in.

By your Leave then, Gentlemen! let the Scene open, and at once discover your Comedian at the Bar! There you will find him a Defendant, and pleading his own Theatrical Cause in a Court of Chancery: But, as I chuse to have a Chance of pleasing others as well as of indulging you, Gentlemen; I must first beg leave to open my Case to them; after which my whole Speech upon that Occasion shall be at your Mercy.

In all the Transactions of Life, there cannot be a more painful Circumstance, than a Dispute at Law with a Man with whom we have long liv'd in an agreeable Amity: But when Sir Richard Steele, to get himself out of Difficulties, was oblig'd to throw his Affairs into the Hands of Lawyers and Trustees, that Consideration, then, could be of no weight: The Friend, or the Gentleman, had no more to do in the Matter! Thus, while Sir Richard no longer acted from himself, it may be no Wonder if a Flaw was found in our Conduct for the Law to make Work with. It must be observed, then, that about two or three Years before this Suit was commenc'd, upon Sir Richard's totally absenting himself from all Care and Menagement of the Stage (which by our Articles of Partnership he was equally and jointly oblig'd with us to attend) we were reduc'd to let him know that we could not go on at that Rate; but that if he expected to make the Business a sine-Cure, we had as much Reason to expect a Consideration for our extraordinary Care of it; and that during his Absence we therefore intended to charge our selves at a Sallary of 1l. 13s. 4d. every acting Day (unless he could shew us Cause to the contrary) for our Menagement: To which, in his compos'd manner, he only answer'd; That to be sure we knew what was fitter to be done than he did; that he had always taken a Delight in making us easy, and had no Reason to doubt of our doing him Justice. Now whether, under this easy Stile of Approbation, he conceal'd any Dislike of our Resolution, I cannot say. But, if I may speak my private Opinion, I really believe, from his natural Negligence of his Affairs, he was glad, at any rate, to be excus'd an Attendance which he was now grown weary of. But, whether I am deceiv'd or right in my Opinion, the Fact was truly this, that he never once, directly nor indirectly, complain'd or objected to our being paid the above-mention'd daily Sum in near three Years together; and yet still continued to absent himself from us and our Affairs. But notwithstanding he had seen and done all this with his Eyes open; his Lawyer thought here was still a fair Field for a Battle in Chancery, in which, though his Client might be beaten, he was sure his Bill must be paid for it: Accordingly, to work with us he went. But, not to be so long as the Lawyers were in bringing this Cause to an Issue, I shall at once let you know, that it came to a Hearing before the late Sir Joseph Jekyll, then Master of the Rolls, in the Year 1726.[150] Now, as the chief Point in dispute was, of what Kind or Importance the Business of a Menager was, or in what it principally consisted; it could not be suppos'd that the most learned Council could be so well appriz'd of the Nature of it, as one who had himself gone through the Care and Fatigue of it. I was therefore encourag'd by our Council to speak to that particular Head myself; which I confess I was glad he suffer'd me to undertake; but when I tell you that two of the learned Council against us came afterwards to be successively Lord-Chancellors, it sets my Presumption in a Light that I still tremble to shew it in: But however, not to assume more Merit from its Success than was really its Due, I ought fairly to let you know, that I was not so hardy as to deliver my Pleading without Notes, in my Hand, of the Heads I intended to enlarge upon; for though I thought I could conquer my Fear, I could not be so sure of my Memory: But when it came to the critical Moment, the Dread and Apprehension of what I had undertaken so disconcerted my Courage, that though I had been us'd to talk to above Fifty Thousand different People every Winter, for upwards of Thirty Years together; an involuntary and unaffected Proof of my Confusion fell from my Eyes; and, as I found myself quite out of my Element, I seem'd rather gasping for Life than in a condition to cope with the eminent Orators against me. But, however, I soon found, from the favourable Attention of my Hearers, that my Diffidence had done me no Disservice: And as the Truth I was to speak to needed no Ornament of Words, I delivered it in the plain manner following, viz.

In this Cause, Sir, I humbly conceive there are but two Points that admit of any material Dispute. The first is, Whether Sir Richard Steele is as much obliged to do the Duty and Business of a Menager as either Wilks, Booth, or Cibber: And the second is, Whether by Sir Richard's totally withdrawing himself from the Business of a Menager, the Defendants are justifiable in charging to each of themselves the 1l. 13s. 4d. per Diem for their particular Pains and Care in carrying on the whole Affairs of the Stage without any Assistance from Sir Richard Steele.