easily imagine I read the reformed 'Winter's Tale' with great pleasure. You have greatly improved a fine prologue." After this, it is hard to say a word against Garrick. A detailed setting-out of the annals of a theatre becomes about as monotonous as reading a catalogue raisonné; a theatrical history will take the shape of an abstract of so many playbills. This seems almost unavoidable; for looking over the long line of theatrical biographies, we find that each unavoidably falls into a series of play succeeding play, theatre succeeding theatre, and engagement following engagement. The story of a manager's life is specially open to this objection. But we shall only delay very little longer, and anticipate some of these Shakspearean revivals. For the next season of 1755-6 he prepared "The Winter's Tale," altered with freedom.* Yet the alteration was not unskilfully done. There was a charming song by Mrs. Cibber, in the true pastoral key: "Come, come, my good shepherds, our flocks we must shear; In your holiday suits with your lasses appear! The happiest folk are acquitten and free, And who are so guileless and happy as we?"+ Garrick himself played Leontes, and with masterly effect in the statue scene. It was said, too, that had he retained the original version of the play, he would have doubled the attraction of his own part; which shows the self-denial which regulated his theatrical plans, and the due subordination of himself to the general effect of the stage. To him, also, we owe the capital Shakspearean farce of "Katharine and Petruchio," which now keeps the stage, and probably will always * Garrick had the temerity, in his prologue, to boast that it was his To lose no drop of that immortal man." But it was said, happily enough, that he had certainly "lost a whole pail. ful of him" here. A line was repeated with praise to Johnson, as from this song- He was very happy in his ridicule of it :-"Nay, my dear lady, this will never do. Poor David! 'Smile with the simple!' What folly is that. And who would feed with the poor that can help it? No, no; let me smile with the wise, and feed with the rich." This "sally" was reported to Garrick by the good-natured Boswell, who "wondered to find his sensibility as a writer not a little irritated by it." The actor might well have been, for what he had written was that " content and sweet cheerfulness' were what smiled with the simple, and not "I'd smile." But this is only a slight specimen of the misrepresentation that attended the actor all through his life. keep it, in that shape. The animosity well known to exist between Woodward and Mrs. Clive gave a life and interest to the piece; it was said that the actor threw her down with a violence more than was warranted by the situation. The fierce, and real, resentment of the actress at this treatment— her rage, which she could hardly control, all fell in excellently with the tone of the piece, and delighted the audience. Then followed "The Tempest," fashioned into an opera, with Mr. Beard, the popular ballad singer, as Prospero. This, as I have mentioned, was no more than fashioning an opera on the subject of the play, just as Halévy used to do in the present century. Still it was thought sacrilege enough for a single season; and there were plenty who cared very little for Shakspeare, ready to raise the cry. Theo. Cibber, whose father had been the grand offender, delivered a lecture at the Hay, in which he affected deep indignation.* When Garrick played Hamlet again, an idea occurred to him of getting Woodward to give a serious tone to the character of Polonius, instead of the usual buffooning air with which low comedians always invested it. The experiment failed; the audience could not understand. After this, who could blame Garrick for sometimes leaving the true legitimate path in his choice of entertainments, or for taking freedoms with Shakspeare? Mossop's wrongs, and the sense that he was "kept down" by jealousy, had made him leave the theatre in disgust. There remained friends and "bottle-holders" who had made use of him merely to annoy the manager, and who inflamed his jealousy solely to that end. Yet Mossop seems to have had no reasonable cause of complaint, as he had acted over thirty nights, and always in fine and important characters, such as Barbarossa, Macbeth, Richard, and Coriolanus. Garrick begged of him to stay, but he was not to be soothed, and went away to Ireland. He left behind him an angry and discontented "party"; and very early the manager was to receive a rude check, and discover the fatal truth that a theatrical audience is the most fickle thing in the world, and will turn upon its most cherished favourite at the first moment of ill-humour. With this coming trouble, it is not unreasonable to suppose that his personal enemies were associated. Then followed "All's Well that Ends Well," and "Rule a "The Midsummer Night's Dream' has been minced and fricasseed into a thing called 'The Fairies,' 'The Winter's Tale' mammocked into a droll, and The Tempest' castrated into an opera. Yet this sly Prince would insinuate that all this ill-usage of the Bard is owing, forsooth, to his love of him." Wife and have a Wife," in which Mrs. Cibber perversely claimed the lively Estifania; but had to resign it, after a single night, to the better genius of Mrs. Pritchard. It properly belonged to Clive, but rumour said that "she was kept out of her part" by the jealousy of Woodward and Garrick. As to the latter, we have seen enough of him by this time to know that he could sacrifice everything to the interest of a play; and the change is sufficiently explained by the ill-judged claim of Cibber, whose whims had to be consulted. That actress, now growing subject to sudden fits of illness, and with some of her charms failing, capriciously used the power given her by her articles, to select gay and youthful parts. Then he revived his little farce of "Lethe," with a new character for himself Lord Chalkstone-and allowed Murphy, who was engaged at the theatre, and already plaguing him, to bring out a new farce for his own benefit. Having to face this crowd of enemies, always on the watch, it was not long before a serious rebuff came. Fitzpatrick, and the partizans of Mossop, were now to find the opportunity they sought. It was known at the Bedford that he had long been preparing a spectacle that should be above all competition. It was hardly wonderful that he should be so attached to pageants and processions, as these were the attractions which, after his own acting, brought most money to the theatre. He clung to them through many shocks; and, after the rough treatment he was now to receive on presenting "The Chinese Festival," we may admire his constancy and perseverance.* There are many caricatures ridiculing this weakness; one represents Garrick, with the "book" of one of his shows in his hand, with Messink, the mechanist, teside him, shouting "Processions for ever!" and a crowd of men with hammers, &c. Underneath are the lines : "Behold the Muses, Roscius, sue in vain, Tailors and carpenters usurp their reign!" In another, Garrick is shown walking over the works of Shakspeare, Rowe, and others. CHAPTER VI. THE CHINESE FESTIVAL-WOFFINGTON'S RETIREMENT.— 1755-1757. FOR Garrick the charms of French life and the attractions of the French stage had always a sort of fascination. The exquisite and elegant touch of that nation in all theatrical matters was well appreciated by him, and his eyes were always turning towards Paris for French books, French players, French devices in scenery and decoration, and French artists. His own recent visit, where he had made many friends, had strengthened this penchant. In the autumn of 1754-perhaps finding his audiences dulled by their late heavy doses of weary legitimate comedy-he had begun to think of a grand coup, which should impart variety and rouse their apathy. A favourite stock-charge against the manager had been, that he conducted his theatre too penuriously in the matter of decorations and dresses, and relied on the cheap, unadorned attractions of his own declamation. Such speeches were not slow in reaching his ears, and he was now to give them a triumphant refutation. There was in Paris a certain Jean George Noverre, a Swiss dancer, of some celebrity, but better known at the little theatres of the small Courts of Europe than he was at Paris. He enjoyed a high reputation as a maître de ballet, and in the more feminine role of "male dancer"; and Garrick had heard from his French friends of his abilities. He accordingly opened negotiations with him, through a M. Silvain. His first offers were declined-Noverre demanding the modest sum of 350 guineas, with a free benefit, subject to no deductions. He obtained his terms, with the exception of the "no deductions" from the benefit night, which he consented to give up, as it was not the custom in England. A "jolie danseuse," his sister, was also engaged on his own terms. At last all was arranged, and Garrick having conceded everything, was told, in a tumult of grateful rapture, "that his style was delicious; that he was a divine creature ;" and the male dancer, with his "decorations" and his figurantes, started for England. It will be guessed what a costly venture this was, and what a serious outlay had been incurred; the result was to be a truly splendid spectacle, which could not fail to be successful and profitable. But there were dangers approaching, which a skilful manager knowing the childish unreasonableness of the general public, whose servant he must be-might have foreseen. From the beginning of the year, the relations between England and France had been very critical. In the month of November, 1755, when Noverre and his grand spectacle, "The Chinese Festival," was ready, the countries were actually on the eve of a war. The low prejudices of the mob were aroused against everything French, and the enemies of the manager of Drury Lane were not slow to raise the cry that there was a gang of "frog-eating Frenchmen and French women brought over to take the bread out of the mouths of honest Englishmen. All Some days before the piece was brought out, the managers became conscious of the danger, but it was then too late. the expense had been incurred. A temperate appeal-evidently inspired by Garrick-appeared in the papers. It stated that the contract had been signed more than a year ago, and before the disturbed relations between the countries could have been thought of. As to their being French dancers, there were no more than were usually at any of the theatres. Mr. Noverre and his sisters were Swiss, and what was more, OF A PROTESTANT FAMILY. (It is humiliating to think that the history of intolerance must be pursued, even behind the scenes.) His wife and her sisters were Germans. Of the whole corps-amounting to sixty-forty were English. This was a fair and convincing appeal; but argument with a mob is hopeless. The night arrived-the 8th of November-suspiciously near to the great Guy Fawkes anniversary. With all these exertions, the decorations were not quite ready. Noverre, who had written a scientific work on Dancing, had exhausted himself in splendid devices-exhibiting all the popular, and perhaps inaccurate, notions of Chinese dress, music, dancing, and habits. Not content with his appeal, Garrick had, as he fancied, by a master-stroke, secured the attendance of the old King, respect for whom, he thought, would restrain the audience. The opening piece passed off without interruption; but as soon as the curtain rose upon the "Chinese Festival," a storm of fury broke out; all was noise, storm, and confusion in a moment. It would be neither seen nor listened to. Mr. Lacy asked what the cause of the uproar was, and went away, laughing heartily. The Babel was almost terrific; the curtain had to be let down. The question then was, what was to be done? Lacy, always prudent and discreet, was for yielding and withdrawing the piece; but Garrick, with more courage-or, as his Μ |