good a sportsman.* The old Drury Lane patent for twentyone years had but six years to run, having been granted in 1732, and Lacy said that if he could obtain a promise of renewal he could save the theatre from ruin. But he was not inclined to venture alone; and looking round the theatrical world his eyes settled on the great actor, with whom he had had differences, but whose temper, prudence, and tact were as well known in the profession as his dramatic gifts. Garrick received his proposals, and lent his aid; Lady Burlington used her interest with the Devonshire family; and the new patent was readily promised. Indeed, it was likely that the authorities would be glad to have one theatre, at least, which was likely to be well-conducted by steady, respectable, clever men, instead of, as hitherto, by mere adventurers and spendthrifts. Garrick had three friends, men of business and of substance, who advised and assisted him through the negotiation-Draper, the partner of Tonson; Clutterbuck, a mercer in the City; and Dr. Sharpe, who afterwards wrote some Italian travels, coloured by gross prejudices. On the 9th of April, 1747, an agreement was signed between the two new partners, on the following basis: The total present liabilities of the theatre, including the mortgage to Green and Amber, the mortgage to Mr. Meure, with the arrears due to actors and tradesmen, were calculated at about twelve thousand pounds. It was besides burdened with an annuity of £300 to Calthorpe, and another of £500 to Fleetwood. Of this twelve thousand pounds, Garrick, helped by his friends, found eight. Lacy's old interest and exertions, therefore, in procuring the renewed patent, were thus valued at about £2,000. Each party was to draw weekly or otherwise £500 a year as manager, and Garrick was to receive besides £500 a year salary for his acting; but was restrained from playing at any other house, except on the terms of dividing profits with his fellow-manager. On the whole it proved a fortunate investment. Rarely, indeed, have the functions of a clever and "drawing" actor and that of a skilful manager been so fortunately united; which, after thirty years' skilful government, was to make the property nearly six times as valuable. And this young manager, who had raised himself to so responsible an office, was little over thirty years old. † * Shuter used to hunt also, and when complimented by the Duke, replied with some humour that "he was riding for a patent." For a fuller account of this transaction, as well as for the contract itself between Garrick and Lacy, see my "History of the English Stage," Vol. II., p. 149, &c. BOOK THE THIRD. DRURY LANE. CHAPTER I. THE OPENING SEASON.-1747-48. WITH the new management, there was now to set in a hopeful era for the drama, and a complete revolution in the conduct of the stage. At Drury Lane was to begin a new reign of judgment, good sense, fine acting, lavish yet judicious outlay, excellent yet not "sensational" attraction, good acting, good discipline, and good pieces, on which naturally was to follow prosperity. Not only came financial prosperity, but a sudden elevation of the social position of the drama. The other theatres shared in the general "rehabilitation"; and he would have been a bold magistrate who would have now dealt with a player of Drury Lane or Covent Garden "as a common rogue or vagabond." At once the new managers went vigorously to work. They were determined to get together "the best company in England;" and were soon busy remodelling the house. They shared the labour - Garrick undertaking the intellectual duties, engagement of actors, selection of plays, &c.; Lacy looking after the theatre, scenes, wardrobe, and expenses, for which he was peculiarly fitted. Garrick was to repent later that he did not adopt the wise advice of friends, who would have inserted a clause defining these duties; but a mistaken delicacy made him refuse. The interior of the theatre, as laid out by Wren, had one remarkable feature. The stage projected forward by many feet into the body of the house, in a sort of oval, and followed the semicircular shape of the benches of the pit. The actors made their entrance through doors, which were near to the audience, and made forward side-scenes necessary. The player was thus in the middle of the house, every whisper and play of expression was perceptible-every rich or fine-coloured habit had a more lively lustre, and the stage had a greater depth. Cibber always looked fondly back to this arrange I ment, and with reason, for it was in favour of the old school of declamatory actors, who wished their measured utterance and mouthings to be heard and seen to the best advantage. But it obviously interfered with stage illusion, and abridged the space for the audience. A little after the commencement of the century, fresh alterations were made; the stage was shortened and thrown back, and for the first doors, where the actors entered, stage boxes were substituted. By this alteration the house was made to hold "ten pounds" more than it did before. I don't In July the managers were "in the midst of bricks and mortar," and Lacy was busy making new approaches to the house, altering it internally, painting and decorating. By a fresh arrangement, it was contrived to increase the accommodation by forty pounds a night. Garrick had gone down to his family at Lichfield, and, owing to damp sheets at Coventry, had fallen ill, and had to be bled. To recruit himself for the ordeal of the coming season, he went to Tunbridge Wells, where he enjoyed himself exceedingly, and shook off the thought of coming responsibilities. "I go to bed at eleven; rise at seven; drink no malt, and think of nothing. Old Cibber is here, and very merry we are. Mr. Lyttelton and I are cup and can. I played at E. O., and won. dance, and eat like a ploughman."* This is gay enough, even though he was on a regimen. There is a print of that quaint old place, and its company, as it appeared in the following year; showing "the pantiles," the little shops and trees, and its mall, crowded with remarkable persons. Here are to be seen Mr. Johnson and Miss Chudleigh, and Mr. Pitt, and the Duchess of Norfolk; the Bishop of Salisbury, "the gambling Baron," Mrs. Cibber, and many more persons of distinction and genius; and among them we discover Mr. Garrick, paying his court to Frasi, the prima donna of the opera. To the end of his life he always enjoyed himself at Bath and Tunbridge, and found relaxation in the pleasant company there. He was all the time busy enlisting recruits; and it is characteristic that, at the earliest moment he found himself with power, he used it for the service of all his friends. Barry, growing in prosperity, already pronounced superior to Garrick in many favourite parts, was retained at the house. Mrs. Cibber, his old friend and ally, was also engaged. It was, indeed, at once whispered that the manager's favour was to place her * Forster MSS. in every leading part. The rumour reached Bristol, and brought up a petulant remonstrance from the Pritchards, husband and wife, thus early giving Garrick his first managerial experience of the morbid sensitiveness of his actors. A pro * test he answered in the good, generous, and reasoning way which afterwards became almost habitual to him in dealing with such wounded sensibilities. He showed temperately that it was the proprietors' interest that Mrs. Pritchard should have her proper place at the theatre, and not be sacrificed to the empire of "any haughty woman.' "I have a great stake," he added, "Mr. Pritchard, and must endeavour to secure my property and my friends' to the best of my judgment. I shall engage the best company in England, if I can, and think it the interest of the best actors to be together." If, however, they still had doubts, he would do his best to release them, and let them go to Covent Garden. And having reassured these jealous souls, he gave them the best proof of his regard. by making their son treasurer to the theatre. He was also generous enough to engage Macklin and his wife -a man who, under a fancied sense of injury, had so grossly attacked him with tongue and pen. It is amusing to read Macklin's biographer on this act, which, even if it were an act of atonement, had a certain graciousness. "Although Mr. Macklin," he says, "had just cause to remember the cruel treatment he had formerly experienced at the hands of Mr. Garrick, yet the nobleness and generosity of his mind prompted him now to dismiss it totally from his recollection." Kitty Clive, "Peg" Woffington, Delane, Havard, Sparks, Yates, Shuter, and Woodward, who was to join after a Dublin engagement had been concluded, all made up a company not merely strong, but brilliant. Quin alone, still morose and aggrieved, refused an engagement, and retired to Bath. At last, on September the 15th, the playhouse opened brilliantly with a fine prologue from the pen of Samuel Johnson; Macklin as Shylock, and an epilogue spoken by Woffington. A friendly but anonymous writer privately sent to Garrick the key of this little intrigue. Rich had behaved with his usual eccentricity, wishing to detain Mrs. Pritchard, but protesting" that she had turned up her nose at what he had offered her; that he would never give her more, if he never opened his doors; and as to asking her, he would never do it, if his family was starving." Friends then promised they would contrive to make her break her articles with Garrick, by working on her husband's jealousy, and urging that a difference was made between Cibber and Pritchard, Cibber's name being always in large character in the bills. This, they said to Rich, will "fire" Pritchard. The prologue-weighty, impressive, and sonorous-contained the famous line "Those who live to please, must please to live-" and the fine encomium of Shakspeare "Panting time toiled after him in vain!" It also expounded to the audience what were to be the faith and principles of the new management. Audiences were not to expect rope-dancers like Mahomet, boxers like Hunt, flying chariots, or such pantomimic tricks. It was at the same time hinted that the remedy lay with the audiences themselves; that the stage could not reform itself, but must follow the taste of the public. Of this salvo he later fairly availed himself. Garrick declaimed Johnson's majestic lines with fine effect, and a hum of approbation must have passed round when they heard him say, and with singular appropriateness "From bard to bard the frigid caution crept, At the bottom of their bill, the audience found another hint of reform. There was to be no more admission behind the scenes; and "it was humbly hoped" that the audience would not take it amiss. Significant, too, was the choice of Macklin's Shylock -a ready commentary on Johnson's lines; for Macklin was of Garrick's own school, and with such a pair declamation was not likely to roar. Garrick himself fell ill a few days after the opening of the theatre; and as the prologue was repeatedly called for, it was at last published, with an apology from the manager, who hoped they would accept it in that shape. He himself was not able to appear until a month later. Behind the scenes also a new order and new regularity had been introduced. The greater actors had been careless as to learning their parts accurately, and were too often heard appealing to the prompter. A strict attendance at rehearsal was enforced, and the plays carefully prepared. Some of the older actors, who from habit supplied the defects of memory and carelessness by "a bold front and forging matter of their own," were tacitly rebuked by being left aside for some time until they mended. Yates was a notorious offender. The management relied principally on good stock-pieces, well supported, with one or two strongly-cast characters, and a new play or two. Barry was put forward as the leading actor. He played in all his favourite characters. Nights of special attraction were, when Mrs. Woffington came out in her famous "breeches part," Sir Harry Wildair, with Garrick as Fribble, to |