CHAPTER XVI. An Apology for the Life of Mr. Colley Cibber, Volume II | ||
2.16. 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; [192.1] 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
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 pleasing 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
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
As to the First, if I don't mistake the Words of the Assignment, there is a Clause in it that says, All Matters relating to the Government or Menagement of the Theatre shall be concluded by a Majority of Voices. Now I presume, Sir, there is no room left to alledge that Sir Richard was ever refused his Voice, though in above three Years he never desir'd to give it: And I believe there will be as little room to say, that he could have a Voice if he were not a Menager. But, Sir, his being a Menager is so self-evident, that it is amazing how he could conceive that he was to take the Profits and Advantages of a Menager without doing the Duty of it. And I will be bold to say, Sir, that his Assignment of the Patent to Wilks, Booth, and Cibber, in no one Part of it, by the severest Construction in the World, can be wrested to throw the heavy Burthen of the Menagement only upon their Shoulders. Nor does it appear, Sir, that either in his Bill, or in his Answer to our Cross-Bill, he has offer'd any Hint, or Glimpse of a Reason, for his withdrawing from the Menagement at all; or so much as pretend, from the time complained of, that he ever took the least Part of his Share of it. Now, Sir, however unaccountable this Conduct of Sir Richard may seem, we will still allow that he had some Cause for it; but whether or no that Cause was a reasonable one your Honour will
Sir, the Case, in plain Truth and Reality, stands thus: Sir Richard, though no Man alive can write better of Oeconomy than himself, yet, perhaps, he is above the Drudgery of practising it: Sir Richard, then, was often in want of Money; and while we were in Friendship with him, we often assisted his Occasions: But those Compliances had so unfortunate an Effect, that they only heightened his Importunity to borrow more, and the more we lent, the less he minded us, or shew'd any Concern for our Welfare. Upon this, Sir, we stopt our Hands at once, and peremptorily refus'd to advance another Shilling 'till by the Balance of our Accounts it became due to him. And this Treatment (though, we hope, not in the least unjustifiable) we have Reason to believe so ruffled his Temper, that he at once was as short with us as we had been with him; for, from that Day, he never more came near us: Nay, Sir, he not only continued to neglect what he should have done, but actually did what he ought not to have done: He made an Assignment of his Share without our Consent, in a manifest Breach of our Agreement: For, Sir, we did not lay that Restriction upon ourselves for no Reason: We knew, before-hand, what Trouble and Inconvenience it would be to unravel and expose our Accounts to Strangers, who, if they were to do us no hurt by divulging our Secrets, we were sure could do us no good by keeping them. If Sir Richard
Sir, our next Point in question is whether Wilkes, Booth, and Cibber are justifiable in charging the 1l. 13s. 4d. per diem for their extraordinary Menagement in the Absence of Sir Richard Steele. I doubt, Sir, it will be hard to come to the Solution of this Point, unless we may be a little indulg'd in setting forth what is the daily and necessary Business and Duty of a Menager. But, Sir, we will endeavour to be as short as the Circumstances will admit of.
Sir, by our Books it is apparent that the Menagers have under their Care no less than One Hundred and Forty Persons in constant daily Pay: And among such Numbers, it will be no wonder if a great many of them are unskilful, idle, and sometimes untractable; all which Tempers are to be led, or driven, watch'd, and restrain'd by the continual Skill, Care, and Patience of the Menagers. Every Menager is oblig'd, in his turn, to attend two or three Hours every Morning at the Rehearsal of Plays and other Entertainments for the Stage, or else every Rehearsal would be but a rude Meeting of Mirth and Jollity. The same Attendance is as necessary at every Play during the time of its publick Action, in which one or more of us have constantly been punctual, whether we have had any part in the Play
And all this, Sir, and more, much more, which we hope will be needless to trouble you with, have we done every Day, without the least Assistance from Sir Richard, even at times when the Concern and Labour of our Parts upon the Stage have made it very difficult and irksome to go through with it.
In this Place, Sir, it may be worth observing that Sir Richard, in his Answer to our Cross-Bill, seems to value himself upon Cibber's confessing, in the Dedication of a Play which he made to Sir Richard, that he (Sir Richard) had done the Stage very considerable Service by leading the Town to our Plays,
Barton Booth
[Description: Mezzotint Portrait. Engraving by R. B. Parkes. Barton Booth. From the pitcure by George White]To conclude, Sir, if by our constant Attendance, our Care, our Anxiety (not to mention the disagreeable Contests we sometimes meet with, both within and without Doors, in the Menagement of our Theatre) we have not only saved the whole from Ruin, which, if we had all follow'd Sir Richard's Example, could not have been avoided; I say, Sir, if we have still made it so valuable an Income to him, without his giving us the least Assistance for several Years past; we hope, Sir, that the poor Labourers that have done all this for Sir Richard will not be thought unworthy of their Hire.
How far our Affairs, being set in this particular Light, might assist our Cause, may be of no great Importance to guess; but the Issue of it was this: That Sir Richard not having made any objection
And now, gentle Reader, I ask Pardon for so long an Imposition on your Patience: For tho' I may have no ill Opinion of this Matter myself; yet to you I can very easily conceive it may have been tedious. You are, therefore, at your own Liberty of charging the whole Impertinence of it, either to the Weakness of my Judgment, or the Strength of my Vanity; and I will so far join in your Censure, that I farther confess I have been so impatient to give it you, that you have had it out of its Turn: For, some Years before this Suit was commenced, there were other Facts that ought to have had a Precedence in my History: But that, I dare say, is an Oversight you will easily excuse, provided you afterwards find them worth reading. However, as to that Point I must take my Chance, and shall therefore proceed to speak of the Theatre which was order'd by his late Majesty to be erected in the Great old Hall at Hampton-Court; where Plays were intended to have been acted twice a Week during the Summer-Season. But before the Theatre could be finish'd, above half the Month of September
Whether the reverend Historian of his Own Time, [212.1] among the many other Reasons of the same Kind he might have for stiling this Fair One the indiscreetest and wildest Creature that ever was in a Court, might know this to be one of them, I can't say: But if we consider her in all the Disadvantages of her Rank and Education, she does not appear to have had any criminal Errors more remarkable than her Sex's Frailty to answer for: And if the same Author, in his latter End of that Prince's Life, seems to reproach his Memory with too kind a Concern for her Support, we may allow that it becomes a Bishop to have had no Eyes or Taste for the frivolous Charms or playful Badinage of a King's Mistress: Yet, if the common Fame of her may be believ'd, which in my Memory was not doubted, she had less to be laid to her Charge than any other of those Ladies who were in the same State of Preferment: She never meddled in Matters of serious Moment, or was the Tool of working Politicians: Never broke into those amorous Infidelities which others in that grave Author are accus'd of; but was as visibly distinguish'd by her particular Personal Inclination to the King, as her Rivals were by their Titles and Grandeur. Give me leave to carry (perhaps the Partiality of) my Observation a little farther. The same Author, in the same Page, 263, [212.2] tells us, That "Another of the King's Mistresses, the Daughter of a Clergyman, Mrs. Roberts, in whom her first
To all this let us give an implicit Credit: Here is the Account of a frail Sinner made up with a Reverend Witness! Yet I cannot but lament that this Mitred Historian, who seems to know more Personal Secrets than any that ever writ before him, should not have been as inquisitive after the last Hours of our other Fair Offender, whose Repentance I have been unquestionably inform'd, appear'd in all the contrite Symptoms of a Christian Sincerity. If therefore you find I am so much concern'd to make this favourable mention of the one, because she was a Sister of the Theatre, why may not— But I dare not be so presumptuous, so uncharitably bold, as to suppose the other was spoken better of merely because she was the Daughter of a Clergyman. Well, and what then? What's all this idle Prate, you may say, to the matter in hand? Why, I say your Question is a little too critical; and if you won't give an Author leave, now and then, to embellish his Work by a natural Reflexion, you are an ungentle Reader. But I have done with my Digression, and return to our Theatre at Hampton-Court, where I am
A Play presented at Court, or acted on a publick Stage, seem to their different Auditors a different Entertainment. Now hear my Reason for it. In the common Theatre the Guests are at home, where the politer Forms of Good-breeding are not so nicely regarded: Every one there falls to, and likes or finds fault according to his natural Taste or Appetite. At Court, where the Prince gives the Treat, and honours the Table with his own Presence, the Audience is under the Restraint of a Circle, where Laughter or Applause rais'd higher than a Whisper would be star'd at. At a publick Play they are both let loose, even 'till the Actor is sometimes pleas'd with his not being able to be heard for the Clamour of them. But this Coldness or Decency of Attention at Court I observ'd had but a melancholy Effect upon the impatient Vanity of some of our Actors, who seem'd inconsolable when their flashy Endeavours to please had pass'd unheeded: Their not considering where they were quite disconcerted them; nor could they recover their Spirits 'till from the lowest Rank of the Audience some gaping John or Joan, in the fullness of their Hearts, roar'd out their Approbation: And, indeed, such a natural Instance of honest Simplicity a Prince himself, whose Indulgence
Let there be Letters writ to every Shire
Of the King's Grace and Pardon: The griev'd
Commons
Hardly conceive of me. Let it be nois'd
That through our Intercession this Revokement
And Pardon comes.—I shall anon advise you
Farther in the Proceeding—
The Solicitude of this Spiritual Minister, in filching from his Master the Grace and Merit of a good Action, and dressing up himself in it, while himself had been Author of the Evil complain'd of, was so easy a Stroke of his Temporal Conscience, that it seem'd to raise the King into something more than a Smile whenever that Play came before him: And I had a more distinct Occasion to observe this Effect; because my proper Stand on the Stage when I spoke the Lines required me to be near the Box where the King usually sate: [216.1] In a Word, this Play is so true
This, too, calls to my Memory an extravagant Pleasantry of Sir Richard Steele, who being ask'd by a grave Nobleman, after the same Play had been presented at Hampton-Court, how the King lik'd it, reply'd, So terribly well, my Lord, that I was afraid I should have lost all my Actors! For I was not sure the King would not keep them to fill the Posts at Court that he saw them so fit for in the Play.
It may be imagin'd that giving Plays to the People at such a distance from London could not but be attended with an extraordinary Expence; and it was some Difficulty, when they were first talk'd of, to bring them under a moderate Sum; I shall therefore, in as few Words as possible, give a Particular of what Establishment they were then brought to, that in case the same Entertainments should at any time hereafter be call'd to the same Place, future Courts may judge how far the Precedent may stand good, or need an Alteration.
Though the stated Fee for a Play acted at Whitehall had been formerly but Twenty Pounds; [218.1] yet, as that hinder'd not the Company's acting on the same Day at the Publick Theatre, that Sum was almost all clear Profits to them: But this Circumstance not being practicable when they were commanded to Hampton-Court, a new and extraordinary Charge was unavoidable: The Menagers, therefore, not to inflame it, desired no Consideration for their own Labour, farther than the Honour of being employ'd in his Majesty's Commands; and, if the other Actors might be allow'd each their Day's Pay and travelling Charges, they should hold themselves ready to act any Play there at a Day's Warning: And that the Trouble might be less by being divided, the Lord-Chamberlain was pleas'd to let us know that the Houshold-Musick, the Wax Lights, and a Chaise-Marine to carry our moving Wardrobe to every different Play, should be under the Charge of the proper Officers. Notwithstanding these assistances, the Expence of every Pay amounted to Fifty Pounds: Which Account, when all was over, was not only allow'd us, but his Majesty was graciously pleas'd to give the Menagers Two Hundred Pounds more for their particular Performance and Trouble in only
Since that time there has been but one Play given at Hampton-Court, which was for the Entertainment of the Duke of Lorrain; and for which is present
The Reader may now plainly see that I am ransacking my Memory for such remaining Scraps of Theatrical History as may not perhaps be worth his Notice: But if they are such as tempt me to write them, why may I not hope that in this wide World there may be many an idle Soul, no wiser than my self, who may be equally tempted to read them?
I have so often had occasion to compare the State of the Stage to the State of a Nation, that I yet feel a Reluctancy to drop the Comparison, or speak of the one without some Application to the other. How many Reigns, then, do I remember, from that of Charles the Second, through all which there has been, from one half of the People or the other, a Succession of Clamour against every different Ministry for the time being? And yet, let the Cause of this Clamour have been never so well grounded, it is impossible but that some of those Ministers must have been wiser and honester Men than others: If this be true, as true I believe it is, why may I not then say, as some Fool in a French Play does upon a like Occasion—Justement, comme chez nous! 'Twas exactly the same with our Menagement! let us have done never so well, we could not please every body: All I can say in our Defence is, that though many good Judges might possibly conceive how the State of the Stage might have been mended, yet the best of them never pretended to remember the Time when
For though I have often allow'd that our best Merit as Actors was never equal to that of our Predecessors, yet I will venture to say, that in all its Branches the Stage had never been under so just, so prosperous, and so settled a Regulation, for forty Years before, as it was at the Time I am speaking of. The most plausible Objection to our Administration seemed to be, that we took no Care to breed up young Actors to succeed us; [221.1] and this was imputed as the greater Fault, because it was taken for granted that it was a Matter as easy as planting so many Cabbages: Now, might not a Court as well be reproached for not breeding up a Succession of complete Ministers? And yet it is evident, that if Providence or Nature don't supply us with both, the State and the Stage will be but poorly supported. If a Man of an ample Fortune should take it into his Head to give a younger Son an extraordinary Allowance in order to breed him a great Poet, what might we suppose would be the Odds that his Trouble and Money would be all thrown away? Not more than it would be against the Master of a Theatre who should say, this or that young Man I will take care shall be an excellent Actor! Let it be our
Even the Laws of a Nunnery, we find, are thought
no sufficient Security against Temptations without
Iron Grates and high Walls to inforce them; which
the Architecture of a Theatre will not so properly
admit of: And yet, methinks, Beauty that has not
those artificial Fortresses about it, that has no Defence
but its natural Virtue (which upon the Stage
Susanna Maria Cibber as Cordelia
[Description: Mezzotint Portrait. Engraving by R. B. Parkes. Susanna
Maria
Cibber as Cordelia. After a painting by Thomas Hudson]
However, as to say more or less than Truth are equally unfaithful in an Historian, I cannot but own that, in the Government of the Theatre, I have known many Instances where the Merit of promising Actors has not always been brought forward, with the Regard or Favour it had a Claim to: And if I put my Reader in mind, that in the early Part of this Work I have shewn thro' what continued Difficulties and Discouragements I myself made my way up the Hill of Preferment, he may justly call it too strong a Glare of my Vanity: I am afraid he is in the right; but I pretend not to be one of those chaste Authors that know how to write without it: When Truth is to be told, it may be as much Chance as Choice if it happens to turn out in my Favour: But to shew that this was true of others as well as myself, Booth shall be another Instance. In 1707, when Swiney was the only Master of the Company in the Hay-Market; Wilks, tho' he was then but an hired Actor himself, rather chose to govern and give Orders than to receive them; and was so jealous of Booth's rising, that with a high Hand he gave the Part of Pierre, in Venice Preserv'd, to Mills the elder, who (not to undervalue him) was out of Sight in the Pretensions
Thus we see, let the Degrees and Rank of Men be ever so unequal, Nature throws out their Passions from the same Motives; 'tis not the Eminence or Lowliness of either that makes the one, when provok'd, more or less a reasonable Creature than the
If this familiar Stile of talking should, in the Nostrils of Gravity and Wisdom, smell a little too much of the Presumptuous or the Pragmatical, I will at least descend lower in my Apology for it, by calling to my Assistance the old, humble Proverb, viz. 'Tis an ill Bird that, &c. Why then should I debase my Profession by setting it in vulgar Lights, when I may shew it to more favourable Advantages? And when I speak of our Errors, why may I not extenuate them by illustrious Examples? or by not allowing them greater than the greatest Men have been subject to? Or why, indeed, may I not suppose that a sensible Reader will rather laugh than look grave at the Pomp of my Parallels?
Now, as I am tied down to the Veracity of an Historian whose Facts cannot be supposed, like those in a Romance, to be in the Choice of the Author to make them more marvellous by Invention; if I should happen to sink into a little farther Insignificancy, let the simple Truth of what I have farther to say, be my Excuse for it. I am obliged, therefore, to make the Experiment, by shewing you the Conduct of our Theatrical Ministry in such Lights as on various Occasions it appear'd in.
Though Wilks had more Industry and Application than any Actor I had ever known, yet we found it possible that those necessary Qualities might sometimes
This laudable Appetite for Fame in Wilks was not, however, to be fed without that constant Labour which only himself was able to come up to: He therefore bethought him of the means to lessen the Fatigue, and at the same time to heighten his Reputation; which was, by giving up now and then a Part to some raw Actor who he was sure would disgrace it, and consequently put the Audience in mind of his superior Performance: Among this sort of Indulgences to young Actors he happen'd once to make a Mistake that set his Views in a clear Light. The best Criticks, I believe, will allow that in Shakespear's Macbeth there are, in the Part of Macduff, two Scenes, the one of Terror, in the second Act, and the other of Compassion, in the fourth, equal to any that dramatick Poetry has produc'd: These Scenes Wilks had acted with Success, tho' far short of that happier
Here I confess I am at a Loss for a Fact in History to which this can be a Parallel! To be weary of a Post, even to a real Desire of resigning it; and yet to chuse rather to drudge on in it than suffer it to be well supplied (though to share in that Advantage) is a Delicacy of Ambition that Machiavil himself has made no mention of: Or if in old Rome, the Jealousy of any pretended Patriot equally inclin'd to abdicate his Office may have come up to it, 'tis more than my reading remembers.
As nothing can be more impertinent than shewing too frequent a Fear to be thought so, I will, without farther Apology, rather risque that Imputation than not tell you another Story much to the same purpose, and of no more consequence than my last. To make you understand it, however, a little Preface will be necessary.
If the Merit of an Actor (as it certainly does) consists more in the Quality than the Quantity of his Labour; the other Menagers had no visible Reason to think this needless Ambition of Wilks, in being so often and sometimes so unnecessarily employ'd, gave him any Title to a Superiority; especially when our Articles of Agreement had allow'd us all to be equal. But what are narrow Contracts to great Souls with growing Desires? Wilks, therefore, who thought himself lessen'd in appealing to any Judgment but
In 1725 we were call'd upon, in a manner that could not be resisted, to revive the Provok'd Wife, [233.1] a Comedy which, while we found our Account in keeping the Stage clear of those loose Liberties it had formerly too justly been charg'd with, we had laid aside for some Years. [233.2] The Author, Sir John Vanbrugh, who was conscious of what it had too much of, was prevail'd upon [233.3] to substitute a new-written Scene in the Place of one in the fourth Act, where the Wantonness of his Wit and Humour had (originally) made a Rake [233.4] talk like a Rake in the borrow'd Habit of a Clergyman: To avoid which Offence, he clapt the same Debauchee into the Undress of a Woman of Quality: Now the Character and Profession of a Fine Lady not being so indelibly sacred as that of a Churchman, whatever Follies he expos'd in the Petticoat kept him at least clear of his former Prophaneness,
This Play being thus refitted for the Stage, was, as I have observ'd, call'd for from Court and by many of the Nobility. [234.1] Now, then, we thought, was a proper time to come to an Explanation with Wilks: Accordingly, when the Actors were summon'd to hear the Play read and receive their Parts, I address'd myself to Wilks, before them all, and told him, That as the Part of Constant, which he seem'd to chuse, was a Character of less Action than he generally appear'd in, we thought this might be a good Occasion to ease himself by giving it to another.—Here he look'd grave.—That the Love-Scenes of it were rather serious than gay or humourous, and therefore might sit very well upon Booth. —Down dropt his Brow, and furl'd were his Features. —That if we were never to revive a tolerable Play without him, what would become of us in case of his Indispositon?—Here he pretended to stir the Fire.—That as he could have no farther Advantage or Advancement in his Station to hope for, his acting in this Play was but giving himself an unprofitable Trouble, which neither Booth or I desired to impose upon him.—Softly.—Now the Pill began to
However disagreeable it might be to have this unsociable Temper daily to deal with; yet I cannot but say, that from the same impatient Spirit that had so often hurt us, we still drew valuable Advantages: For as Wilks seem'd to have no Joy in Life beyond his being distinguish'd on the Stage, we were not only sure of his always doing his best there himself, but of making others more careful than without the Rod of so irascible a Temper over them they would have been. And I much question if a more temperate or better Usage of the hired Actors could have so effectually kept them to Order. Not even Betterton (as we have seen) with all his good Sense, his great Fame and Experience, could, by being only a quiet Example of Industry himself, save his Company from falling, while neither Gentleness could
What Havock do these Blockheads make among
your Works!
How are the boasted Labours of an Age
Defac'd and tortur'd by Ungracious Action?[238.2]
Of this wicked Doings Dryden, too, complains in one of his Prologues at that time, where, speaking of such lewd Actors, he closes a Couplet with the following Line, viz.
The great Share, therefore, that Wilks, by his exemplary Diligence and Impatience of Neglect in others, had in the Reformation of this Evil, ought in Justice to be remember'd; and let my own Vanity here take Shame to itself when I confess, That had I had half his Application, I still think I might have shewn myself twice the Actor that in my highest State of Favour I appear'd to be. But if I have any Excuse for that Neglect (a Fault which, if I loved not Truth, I need not have mentioned) it is that so much of my Attention was taken up in an incessant Labour to guard against our private Animosities, and preserve a Harmony in our Menagement, that I hope and believe it made ample Amends for whatever Omission my Auditors might sometimes know it cost me some pains to conceal. But Nature takes care to bestow her Blessings with a more equal Hand than Fortune does, and is seldom known to heap too many upon one Man: One tolerable Talent in an Individual is enough to preserve him from being good for nothing; and, if that was not laid to my Charge as an Actor, I have in this Light too, less to complain of than to be thankful for.
Before I conclude my History, it may be expected I should give some further View of these my last Cotemporaries of the Theatre, Wilks and Booth, in their different acting Capacities. If I were to paint
Wilks, from his first setting out, certainly form'd his manner of Acting upon the Model of Monfort; [241.1] as Booth did his on that of Betterton. But—Haud passibus æquis: I cannot say either of them came up to their Original. Wilks had not that easy regulated Behaviour, or the harmonious Elocution of the One, nor Booth that Conscious Aspect of Intelligence nor requisite Variation of Voice that made every Line the Other spoke seem his own natural self-deliver'd Sentiment: Yet there is still room for great Commendation of Both the first mentioned; which will not be so much diminish'd in my having said they were only excell'd by such Predecessors, as it will be
Though the Majority of Publick Auditors are but bad judges of Theatrical Action, and are often deceiv'd into their Approbation of what has no solid Pretence to it; yet, as there are no other appointed Judges to appeal to, and as every single Spectator has a Right to be one of them, their Sentence will be definitive, and the Merit of an Actor must, in some degree, be weigh'd by it: By this Law, then, Wilks was pronounced an Excellent Actor; which, if the few true Judges did not allow him to be, they were at least too candid to slight or discourage him. Booth and he were Actors so directly opposite in their Manner, that if either of them could have borrowed a little of the other's Fault, they would Both have been improv'd by it: If Wilks had sometimes too violent a Vivacity; Booth as often contented himself with too grave a Dignity: The Latter seem'd too much to heave up his Words, as the other to dart them to the Ear with too quick and sharp a Vehemence: Thus Wilks would too frequently break into the Time and Measure of the Harmony by too many spirited Accents in one Line; and Booth, by too solemn a Regard to Harmony, would as often lose the necessary Spirit of it: So that (as I have observ'd) could we have sometimes rais'd the one and
Wilks often regretted that in Tragedy he had not the full and strong Voice of Booth to command and grace his Periods with: But Booth us'd to say, That
When an Actor becomes and naturally Looks the Character he stands in, I have often observ'd it to have had as fortunate an Effect, and as much recommended
I am now come towards the End of that Time through which our Affairs had long gone forward in a settled Course of Prosperity. From the Visible Errors of former Menagements we had at last found the necessary Means to bring our private Laws and Orders into the general Observance and Approbation of our Society: Diligence and Neglect were under an equal Eye; the one never fail'd of its Reward, and the other, by being very rarely excus'd,
Among our many necessary Reformations; what not a little preserv'd to us the Regard of our Auditors, was the Decency of our clear Stage; [246.2] from whence we had now, for many Years, shut out those idle Gentlemen, who seem'd more delighted to be pretty Objects themselves, than capable of any Pleasure from the Play: Who took their daily Stands where they might best elbow the Actor, and come in for their Share of the Auditor's Attention. In many a labour'd Scene of the warmest Humour and of the most affecting Passion have I seen the best Actors disconcerted, while these buzzing Muscatos have been fluttering round their Eyes and Ears. How was it possible an Actor, so embarrass'd, should keep his Impatience from entering into that different
Future Actors may perhaps wish I would set this Grievance in a stronger Light; and, to say the Truth, where Auditors are ill-bred, it cannot well be expected that Actors should be polite. Let me therefore shew how far an Artist in any Science is apt to be hurt by any sort of Inattention to his Performance.
While the famous Corelli, [247.1] at Rome, was playing some Musical Composition of his own to a select Company in the private Apartment of his Patron-Cardinal, he observed, in the height of his Harmony, his Eminence was engaging in a detach'd Conversation; upon which he suddenly stopt short, and gently laid down his Instrument: The Cardinal, surpriz'd at the unexpected Cessation, ask'd him if a String was broke? To which Corelli, in an honest Conscience of what was due to his Musick, reply'd, No, Sir, I was only afraid I interrupted Business. His Eminence, who knew that a Genius could never shew itself to Advantage where it had not its proper Regards, took this Reproof in good Part, and broke off his Conversation to hear the whole Concerto play'd over again.
Another Story will let us see what Effect a mistaken Offence of this kind had upon the French
This publick Decency in their Theatre I have myself seen carried so far, that a Gentleman in their second Loge, or Middle-Gallery, being observ'd to sit forward himself while a Lady sate behind him, a loud Number of Voices call'd out to him from the Pit, Place à la Dame! Place à la Dame! When the
Whether this Politeness observ'd at Plays may be owing to their Clime, their Complexion, or their Government, is of no great Consequence; but if it is to be acquired, methinks it is pity our accomplish'd Countrymen, who every Year import so much of this Nation's gawdy Garniture, should not, in this long Course of our Commerce with them, have brought over a little of their Theatrical Good-breeding too.
I have been the more copious upon this Head, that it might be judg'd how much it stood us upon to have got rid of those improper Spectators I have been speaking of: For whatever Regard we might draw by keeping them at a Distance from our Stage, I had observed, while they were admitted behind our Scenes, we but too often shew'd them the wrong Side of our Tapestry; and that many a tolerable Actor was the less valued when it was known what ordinary Stuff he was made of.
Among the many more disagreeable Distresses that are almost unavoidable in the Government of a Theatre, those we so often met with from the Persecution of bad Authors were what we could never intirely
I cannot part with these fine Gentlemen Authors without mentioning a ridiculous Disgraccia that befel one of them many Years ago: This solemn Bard, who, like Bays, only writ for Fame and Reputation; on the second Day's publick Triumph of his Muse,
Thus was our Administration often censured for Accidents which were not in our Power to prevent: A possible Case in the wisest Governments. If, therefore, some Plays have been preferr'd to the Stage that were never fit to have been seen there, let this be our best Excuse for it. And yet, if the Merit of our rejecting the many bad Plays that press'd hard upon us were weigh'd against the few that were thus imposed upon us, our Conduct in general might have more Amendments of the Stage to boast of than Errors to answer for. But it is now Time to drop the Curtain.
During our four last Years there happen'd so very little unlike what has been said before, that I shall conclude with barely mentioning those unavoidable Accidents that drew on our Dissolution. The first, that for some Years had led the way to greater, was
Notwithstanding such irreparable Losses; whether, when these favourite Actors were no more to be had, their Successors might not be better born with than they could possibly have hop'd while the former were in being; or that the generality of Spectators, from their want of Taste, were easier to be pleas'd than the few that knew better: Or that, at worst, our Actors were still preferable to any other Company of the several then subsisting: Or to whatever Cause it might be imputed, our Audiences were far less abated than our Apprehensions had suggested. So that, though it began to grow late in Life with me; having still Health and Strength enough to have been as useful on the Stage as ever, I was under no visible Necessity of quitting it: But so it happen'd that our surviving Fraternity having got some chimærical, and, as I thought, unjust Notions into their Heads, which, though I knew they were without much Difficulty to be surmounted; I chose not, at my time of Day, to enter into new Contentions; and as I found an Inclination in some of them to purchase the whole Power of the Patent into their own Hands; I did my best while I staid
What Commotions the Stage fell into the Year following, or from what Provocations the greatest Part of the Actors revolted, and set up for themselves in the little House in the Hay-Market, lies not within the Promise of my Title Page to relate: Or, as it might set some Persons living in a Light they possibly might not chuse to be seen in, I will rather be thankful for the involuntary Favour they have done me, than trouble the Publick with private Complaints of fancied or real Injuries.
FINIS.
In leaping from 1717 to 1728, as Cibber does here, he omits to notice much that is of the greatest interest in stage history. Steele's connection with the theatre was of a chequered complexion, and it is curious as well as regrettable that an interested observer like Cibber should have simply ignored the great points which were at issue while Steele was sharer in the Patent. In order to bridge over the chasm I give a bare record of Steele's transactions in connection with the Patent.
His first authority was a Licence granted to him and his partners, Wilks, Cibber, Dogget, and Booth, and dated October 18th, 1714. This was followed by a Patent, in Steele's name alone, for the term of his life, and three years after his death, which bore date January 19th, 1715. Cibber (p. 174) relates that Steele assigned to Wilks, Booth, and himself, equal shares in this Patent. All went smoothly for more than two years, until the appointment of the Duke of Newcastle (April 13th, 1717) as Lord Chamberlain. He seems soon to have begun to interfere in the affairs of the theatre. Steele, in the eighth number of "The Theatre," states that shortly after his appointment the Duke demanded that he should resign his Patent and accept a Licence in its place. This Steele naturally and rightly declined to do, and here the matter rested for many months. With reference to this it is interesting to note that among the Lord Chamberlain's Papers is the record of a consultation of the Attorney-General whether Steele's Patent made him independent of the Lord Chamberlain's authority. Unfortunately it is impossible to decide, from the terms of the queries put to the Attorney-General, whether these were caused by aggressive action on Steele's part, or merely by his defence of his rights.
The next molestation was an order, dated December 19th, 1719, addressed to Steele, Wilks, and Booth, ordering them to dismiss Cibber; which they did. His suspension, for it was nothing more, lasted till January 28th, 1720. Steele, in the seventh number of "The Theatre," January 23rd, 1720, alludes to his suspension as then existing, and in No. 12 talks of Cibber's being just restored to the "Begging Bridge," that is, the theatre. The allusion is to an Apologue by Steele ("Reader," No. II.) which Cibber quotes, and applies to Steele, in his Dedication of "Ximena" to him. A peasant had succeeded in barricading, with his whole belongings, a bridge over which an enemy attempted to invade his native country. He kept them back till his countrymen were roused; but when the forces of his friends attacked the enemy, the peasant's property was destroyed in the fray and he was left destitute. He received no compensation, but it was enacted that he and his descendants were alone to have the privilege of begging on this bridge. Cibber applies this fable to the treatment of Steele by the Lord Chamberlain, and there can be no doubt that this Dedication must have caused great offence to that official, and contributed materially to Cibber's suspension, though Steele declared that the attack upon his partner was merely intended as an oblique attack on himself. The author of the "Answer to the Case of Sir Richard Steele," 1720 (Nichols's ed., p. 532), says that Cibber had offended the Duke by an attack on the King and the Ministry in the Dedication of his "Ximena" to Steele. He also says that when the Chamberlain wanted a certain actor to play a part which belonged to one of the managers, Cibber flatly refused to allow him, and was thereupon silenced. (The actor is said to have been Elrington, and the part Torrismond; but I doubt if Elrington was at Drury Lane in 1719-20.) A recent stage historian curiously says that the play which gave offence was "The Nonjuror," which is about as likely as that a man should be accused of high treason because he sang "God Save the Queen!"
Steele then, being made to understand that the attack on Cibber was the beginning of evil directed against himself, wrote to two great Ministers of State, and presented a Petition to the King on January 22nd, 1720, praying to be protected from molestation by the Lord Chamberlain. The result of this action was a revocation of Steele's Licence (not his Patent specially, which is curious) dated January 23rd, 1720; and on the next Monday, the 25th, an Order for Silence was sent to the managers and actors at Drury Lane. The theatre accordingly remained closed Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, January 25th to 27th, 1720, and on the 28th re-opened, Wilks, Cibber, and Booth having made their submission and received a Licence dated the previous day.
On the 4th of March following the actors of Drury Lane were sworn at the Lord Chamberlain's office, "pursuant to an Order occasioned by their acting in obedience to his Majesty's Licence, lately granted, exclusive of a Patent formerly obtained by Sir Richard Steele, Knight." The tenor of the Oath was, that as his Majesty's Servants they should act subservient to the Lord Chamberlain, Vice-Chamberlain, and Gentleman-Usher in Waiting. Whether Steele took any steps to test the legality of this treatment is doubtful; but, on the accession of his friend Walpole to office, he was restored to his position at the head of the theatre. On May 2nd, 1721, Cibber and his partners were ordered to account with Steele for his past and present share of the profits of the theatre, as if all the regulations from which his name had been excluded had never been made. This edict is signed by the Duke of Newcastle, and must, I fancy, have been rather a bitter pill for that nobleman. How Steele subsequently conducted himself, and how much interest he took in the theatre, Cibber very fully relates in the next few pages. After Steele's death a new Patent was granted to Cibber, Wilks, and Booth, as will be related further on. It may be noted here, however, that the date of the new Patent proves conclusively that Steele's grant was never superseded. The new power was dated July 3rd, 1731, but it did not take effect till September 1st, 1732, exactly three years after Steele's death, according to the terms of his original Patent.
This is one of Cibber's bad blunders. The Case was heard in 1728. Genest (iii. 208) refers to the St. James's Evening Post's mention of the hearing; and, in the Burney MSS. in the British Museum, a copy of the paragraph is given. It is not, however, a cutting, but a manuscript copy. "Saty. Feb. 17. There was an hearing in the Rolls Chapel in a Cause between Sir Richard Steele, Mr. Cibber, Mr. Wilks, and others belonging to Drury-Lane Theatre, which held five hours—one of which was taken up by a speech of Mr. Wilks, which had so good an effect, that the Cause went against Sir Richard Steele."—St. James's Evening Post, Feb. 17 to Feb. 20, 1728. In its next issue, Feb. 20 to Feb. 22, it corrects the blunder which it had made in attributing Cibber's speech to Wilks.
This was in the Dedication to "Ximena." The passage will be found quoted by me in a note on page 163 of this volume.
This Coronation was tacked to the play of "Henry VIII.," which was revived at Drury Lane on 26th October, 1727. Special interest attached to it on account of the recent Coronation of George II.
This was in 1718. On 24th September, 1718, the bills announce "the same Entertainments that were performed yesterday before his Majesty at Hampton Court."
In Whitelocke's "Memorials" there is an account of a Masque played in 1633, before Charles I. and his Queen, by the gentlemen of the Temple, which cost £21,000.
"Calisto" was published in 1675. Genest (i. 181) says: "Cibber, with his usual accuracy as to dates, supposes that Crowne was selected to write a mask for the Court in preference to Dryden, through the influence of the Duke of Buckingham, who was offended at what Dryden had said of him in Absalom and Achitophel—Dryden's poem was not written till 1681—Lord Rochester was the person who recommended Crowne." I may add that Dryden furnished an Epilogue to "Calisto," which was not spoken.
Bowman, or Bowman, was born about 1651, and lived till 23rd March, 1739. He made his first appearance about 1673, and acted to within a few months of his death, having thus been on the stage for the extraordinary period of sixty-five years. He was very sensitive on the subject of his age, and, if asked how old he was, only replied, that he was very well. Davies speaks highly of Boman's acting in his extreme old age ("Dram. Misc.," i. 286 and ii. 100). Mrs. Boman was the adopted daughter of Betterton.
Davies ("Dram. Misc.," i. 365) says: "Wolsey's filching from his royal master the honour of bestowing grace and pardon on the subject, appeared to gross and impudent a prevarication, that, when this play was acted before George I. at Hampton-Court, about the year 1717, the courtiers laughed so loudly at this ministerial craft, that his majesty, who was unacquainted with the English language, asked the lord-chamberlain the meaning of their mirth; upon being informed of it, the king joined in a laugh of approbation." Davies adds that this scene "was not unsuitably represented by Colley Cibber;" but, in scenes requiring dignity or passion, he expresses an unfavourable opinion of Cibber's playing.
From the Lord Chamberlain's Records it is clear that £10 was the fee for a play at Whitehall during the time of Charles I. If the performance was at Hampton Court, or if it took place at such a time of day as to prevent the ordinary playing at the theatre, £20 was allowed.
The warrant for the payment of these performances is dated 15th November, 1718. The expenses incurred by the actors amounted to £374 1s. 8d., and the present given by the King, as Cibber states, was £200; the total payment being thus £574 1s. 8d.
M. Perrin, the late manager of the Theatre Français, was virulently attacked for giving la jeune troupe no opportunities, and so doing nothing to provide successors to the great actors of his time.
After the death of Wilks and Booth, and the retirement of Cibber, the stage experienced a period of dulness, which was the natural result of the want of good young talent in the lifetime of the old actors. Such periods seem to recur at stated intervals in the history of the stage.
"Venice Preserved" was acted at the Haymarket on 22nd February, 1707, but Dr. Burney's MSS. do not give the cast. On 15th November, 1707, Pierre was played by Mills.
Davies ("Dram. Misc.," iii. 255) has the following interesting statement regarding Cibber and Wilks, which he gives on Victor's authority:—
John Dennis, in an advertisement to the "Invader of his Country," remarks on this foible. He says:—
The "fine Writer" is, of course, Cibber.
"In the trajedy of Mackbeth, where Wilks acts the Part of a Man whose Family has been murder'd in his Absence, the Wildness of his Passion, which is run over in a Torrent of calamitous Circumstances, does but raise my Spirits and give me the Alarm; but when he skilfully seems to be out of Breath, and is brought too low to say more; and upon a second Reflection, cry, only wiping his Eyes, What, both my Children! Both, both my Children gone—There is no resisting a Sorrow which seems to have case about for all the Reasons possible for its Consolation, but has no Recource. There is not one left, but both, both are murdered! Such sudden Starts from the Thread of the Discourse, and a plain Sentiment express'd in an artless Way, are the irresistible Strokes of Eloquence and Poetry."—"Tatler," No. 68, September 15th, 1709.
The extraordinary language of Macduff is quoted from Davenant's mutilation of Shakespeare's play. Obviously it is not Shakespeare's language.
Charles Williams was a young actor of great promise, who died in 1731. On the production of Thomson's "Sophonisba" at Drury Lane, on February 28th, 1730, Cibber played Scipio, but was so hissed by a public that would not suffer him in tragic parts, that he resigned the character to Williams. (See Note 1, vol. i. page 179.) This would seem to indicate that Williams was an actor of some position, for Scipio is a good part.
"In the strong expression of horror on the murder of the King, and the loud exclamations of surprize and terror, Booth might have exceeded the utmost efforts of Wilks. But, in the touches of domestic woe, which require the feelings of the tender father and the affectionate husband, Wilks had no equal. His skill, in exhibiting the emotions of the overflowing heart with corresponding look and action, was universally admired and felt. His rising, after the suppression of his anguish, into ardent and manly resentment, was highly expressive of noble and generous anger."—"Dram. Misc.," ii. 183.
Jeremy Collier specially attacked Vanbrugh and his comedies for their immorality and profanity, and for their abuse of the clergy. Even less strict critics than Collier considered Vanbrugh's pieces as more indecent than the average play. Thus the author of "Faction Display'd," 1704, writes:—
But now the Poet's in the Builder lost."
Davies ("Dram. Misc." iii. 455) says that he supposes Cibber prevailed upon Vanbrugh to alter the disguise which Sir John Brute assumes from a clergyman's habit to that of a woman of fashion.
Cibber's meaning is not very clear, but if he intends to convey the idea that it was for this revival that Vanbrugh made these alterations, he is probably wrong, for when the play was revived at the Haymarket, on 19th January, 1706, it was announced as "with alterations."
Cibber begins the seventh chapter of this work with an account of Betterton's troubles as a manager. See vol. i. p. 227. See also vol. i. p. 315.
Set up some Foreign monster in a bill.
Thus they jog on, still tricking, never thriving,
And murdering plays, which they miscall reviving."
"Address to Granville, on his Tragedy, Heroic Love."
"During Booth's inability to act,....Wilks was called upon to play two of his parts—Jaffier, and Lord Hastings in Jane Shore. Booth was, at times, in all other respects except his power to go on the stage, in good health, and went among the players for his amusement. His curiosity drew him to the playhouse on the nights when Wilks acted these characters, in which himself had appeared with uncommon lustre. All the world admired Wilks, except his brother-manager: amidst the repeated bursts of applause which he extorted, Booth alone continued silent."—Davies ("Dram. Misc.," iii. 256).
Aaron Hill, quoted by Victor in his "Life of Barton Booth," page 32, says: "The Passions which he found in Comedy were not strong enough to excite his Fire; and what seem'd Want of Qualification, was only Absence of Impression."
Wilks can have seen Mountfort only in his early career, for he did not leave Ireland till, at least, 1692; and in that year Mountfort was killed.
Wilks first played Othello in this country on June 22nd, 1710, for Cibber's benefit. Steele draws attention to the event in "Tatler," No. 187, and in No. 188 states his intention of stealing out to see it, "out of Curiosity to observe how Wilks and Cibber touch those Places where Betterton and Sandford so very highly excelled." Cibber was the Iago on this occasion. Steele probably found little to praise in either.
The Earl of Essex, in Banks's "Unhappy Favourite," was one of Wilks's good parts, in which Steele ("Tatler," No. 14) specially praises him. Booth acted the part at Drury Lane on November 25th, 1709.
In the Theatre Français a similar arrangement holds to this day, Tuesday being now the fashionable night. M. Perrin, the late manager, was accused of a too great attention to his Abonnés du Mardi, to the detriment of the theatre and of the general public.
Arcangelo Corelli, a famous Italian musician, born 1653, died 1713, who has been called the father of modern instrumental music.
Jeanne Catherine Gaussin, a very celebrated actress of the Comédie Français, was the original representative of Zaïre, in Voltaire's tragedy, to which Cibber refers. She made her first Parisian appearance in 1731; she retired in 1763, and died on 9th June 1767. Voltaire's Zaïre" owed much of its success to her extraordinary ability.
Cibber has been strongly censured for his treatment of authors. "The Laureat" gives the following account of an author's experiences: "The Court sitting, Chancellor Cibber (for the other two, like M—rs in Chancery, sat only for Form sake, and did not presume to judge) nodded to the Author to open his Manuscript. The Author begins to read, in which if he failed to please the Corrector, he wou'd condescend sometimes to read it for him: When, if the play strook him very warmly, as it wou'd if he found any Thing new in it, in which he conceived he cou'd particularly shine as an Actor, he would lay down his Pipe, (for the Chancellor always smoaked when he made a Decree) and cry, By G—d there is something in this: I do not know but it may do; but I will play such a Part. Well, when the Reading was finished, he made his proper Corrections and sometimes without any Propriety; nay, frequently he very much and very hastily maimed what he pretended to mend" (p. 95). The author also accuses Cibber of delighting in repulsing dramatic writers, which he called "Choaking of Singing birds." However, in Cibber's defence, Genest's opinion may be quoted (iii. 346): "After all that has been said against Chancellor Cibber, it does not appear that he often made a wrong decree: most of the good plays came out at Drury Lane—nor am I aware that Cibber is much to be blamed for rejecting any play, except the Siege of Damascus in the first instance."
In the preface to "The Lunatick" (1705) the actors are roundly abused; but the most amusing attack on actors is in the following title-page: "The Sham Lawyer: or the Lucky Extravagant. As it was Damnably Acted at the Theatre-Royal in Drury Lane." This play, by Drake, was played in 1697, and among the cast were Cibber, Bullock, Johnson, Haines, and Pinkethman.
Bellchambers notes: "Such was the case in Dennis's 'Comic Gallant,' where one of the actors, whom I believe to be Bullock, is most severely handled." I think he is wrong in imagining Bullock to be the actor criticised. Dennis says that Falstaffe was the character that was badly sustained, and I cannot believe Bullock's position would entitle him to play that part in 1702. Genest (ii. 250) suggests Powell as the delinquent.
Cibber's account of Booth is so complete that there is little to be added to it. Booth was born in 1681, and was of a good English family. He first appeared in Dublin in 1698, under Ashbury, but returned to England in 1700, and joined the Lincoln's Inn Fields Company. He followed the fortunes of Betterton until, as related by Cibber in Chapter XII., the secession of 1709 occurred. From that point to his retirement the only event demanding special notice is his marriage with Hester Santlow (see p. 96 of this volume). This took place in 1719, and was the cause of much criticism and slander, some of which Bellchambers reproduces with evident gusto. I do not repeat his statements, because I consider them wildly extravagant. They are fully refuted by Booth's will, from the terms of which it is clear that his marriage was a happy one, and that he esteemed his wife as well as loved her. Booth's illness, to which Cibber refers above, seized him early in the season of 1726-27, and though after it he was able to play occasionally, he was never restored to health. His last appearance was on 9th January, 1728, but he lived till 10th May, 1733.
Mrs. Porter met with the accident referred to in the summer of 1731. See Davies, "Dram. Misc.," iii. 495. She returned to the stage in January, 1733.
Wilks died 27th September, 1732. He was of English parentage, and was born near Dublin, whither his father had removed, about 1665. He was in a Government office, but about 1691 he gave this up, and went on the stage. After a short probation in Dublin he came over to London, and was engaged by Rich, with whom he remained till about 1695. He returned to Dublin, and became so great a favourite there, that it is said that the Lord Lieutenant issued a warrant to prevent his leaving again for London. However, he came to Drury Lane about 1698, and from that time his fortunes are closely interwoven with Cibber's, and are fully related by him.
"The Laureat," p. 96: "As to the Occasion of your parting with your Share of the Patent, I cannot think you give us the true Reason; for I have been very well inform'd, it was the Intention, not only of you, but of your Brother Menagers, as soon as you could get the great Seal to your Patent, (which stuck for some Time, the then Lord Chancellor not being satisfied in the Legality of the Grant) to dispose it to the best Bidder. This was at first kept as a Secret among you; but as soon as the Grant was compleated, you sold to the first who wou'd come up to your Price."
CHAPTER XVI. An Apology for the Life of Mr. Colley Cibber, Volume II | ||