Cibber was the cause of quite a considerable literature, mostly abusive. The following list, taken from my "Bibliographical Account of English Theatrical Literature" (1888), is, I believe, a complete catalogue of all separate publications by, or relating to, Colley Cibber:—
A clue to the comedy of the Non-Juror. With some hints of consequence relating to that play. In a letter to N. Rowe, Esq; Poet Laureat to His Majesty. London (Curll): 1718. 8vo. 6d.
Cibber's "Non-Juror," produced at Drury-Lane, December 6, 1717, was written in favour of the Hanoverian succession. Rowe wrote the prologue, which was very abusive of Nonjurors. This tract is not an attack on the play, but a satire on, it is said, Bishop Hoadly.
A lash for the Laureat: or an address by way of Satyr; most humbly inscrib'd to the unparallel'd Mr. Rowe, on occasion of a late insolent Prologue to the Non-Juror. London (J. Morphew): 1718. folio. Title, 1 leaf: Pref. 1 leaf. pp. 8. 6d.
A furious attack on Rowe on account of his Prologue. A tract of extreme rarity.
A compleat key to the Non-Juror. Explaining the characters in that play, with observations thereon. By Mr. Joseph Gay. The second edioion (sic). London (Curll): 1718. 8vo. pp. 24 including title and half-title.
3rd edition: 1718. Joseph Gay is a pseudonym. Pope is said to be the author of the pamphlet, which is very unfriendly to Cibber.
The Theatre-Royal turn'd into a mountebank's stage. In some remarks upon Mr. Cibber's quack-dramatical performance, called the Non-Juror. By a Non-Juror. London (Morphew): 1718. 8vo. Title 1 leaf. pp. 38. 6d.
The Comedy call'd the Non-Juror. Shewing the particular scenes wherein that hypocrite is concern'd. With remarks, and a key, explaining the characters of that excellent play. London (printed for J. L.): 1718. 8vo. pp. 24, including title. 2d.
Some cursory remarks on the play call'd the Non-Juror, written by Mr. Cibber. In a letter to a friend. London (Chetwood): 1718. 8vo.
Dated from Button's Coffee-House and signed "H. S." Very laudatory.
A journey to London. Being part of a comedy written by the late Sir John Vanbrugh, Knt. and printed after his own copy: which (since his decease) has been made an intire play, by Mr. Cibber, and call'd The provok'd husband, &c. London (Watts): 1728. 8vo. pp. 51, including title.
"The Provok'd Husband," by Vanbrugh and Cibber, was produced at Drury Lane, January 10, 1728; and though Cibber's Nonjuror enemies tried to condemn it, was very successful. This tract shows how much of the play was written by Vanbrugh.
Reflections on the principal characters in the Provoked Husband. London: 1728. 8vo.
An apology for the life of Mr. Colley Cibber, comedian, and late patentee of the Theatre-Royal. With an historical view of the stage during his own time. Written by himself. London (Printed by John Watts for the author): 1740. 4to. Port.
Second edition, London, 1740, 8vo., no portrait; third edition, London, 1750, 8vo., portrait; fourth edition, 1756, 2 vols. 12mo., portrait. A good edition was published, London, 1822, 8vo., with notes by E. Bellchambers and a portrait. The "Apology" forms one of Hunt's series of autobiographies, London, 1826. One of the most famous and valuable of theatrical books.
An apology for the life of Mr. T.... C...., comedian. Being a proper sequel to the Apology for the life of Mr. Colley Cibber, comedian. With an historical view of the stage to the present year. Supposed to be written by himself. In the stile and manner of the Poet Laureat. London (Mechell): 1740. 8vo. 2s.
The object of this pamphlet, ascribed to Fielding, is chiefly to ridicule Colley Cibber's "Apology." Herman, 22s.
A brief supplement to Colley Cibber, Esq; his lives of the late famous Actors and Actresses. Si tu scis, melior ego. By Anthony, Vulgò Tony Aston. Printed for the Author, N.P. (London): N.D. (1747-8). 8vo. pp. 24 including title.
A pamphlet of extreme rarity. Isaac Reed purchased a copy in 1769; and in 1795 he notes on it that, though he has had it twenty-six years, he has never seen another copy. Reed's copy was bought by Field for 65s., at whose sale, in 1827, Genest bought it for 36s.
The tryal of Colley Cibber, comedian, &c. for writing a book intitled An apology for his life, &c. Being a thorough examination thereof; wherein he is proved guilty of High Crimes and Misdemeanors against the English language, and in characterising many persons of distinction.... Together with an indictment exhibited against Alexander Pope of Twickenham, Esq; for not exerting his talents at this juncture: and the arraignment of George Cheyne, Physician at Bath, for the Philosophical, Physical, and Theological heresies, uttered in his last book on Regimen. London (for the author): 1740. 8vo. pp. vii. 40. 1s.
With motto—"Lo! He hath written a Book!" The Dedication is signed "T. Johnson."
The Laureat: or, the right side of Colley Cibber, Esq; containing explanations, amendments, and observations, on a book intituled, An apology for the life, and writings of Mr. Colley Cibber. Not written by himself. With some anecdotes of the Laureat, which he (thro' an excess of modesty) omitted. To which is added, The history of the life, manners and writings of Æsopus the tragedian, from a fragment of a Greek manuscript found in the Library of the Vatican; interspers'd with observations of the translator. London (Roberts): 1740. 8vo. 1s. 6d.
A furious attack on Cibber. The Life of Æsopus is a burlesque Life of Cibber. Daniel. 7s. 6d.
The history of the stage. In which is included, the theatrical characters of the most celebrated actors who have adorn'd the theatre. Among many others are the following, viz. Mr. Betterton, Mr. Montfort, Mr. Dogget, Mr. Booth, Mr. Wilks, Mr. Nokes. Mrs. Barry, Mrs. Montfort, Mrs. Gwin, Mrs. Bracegirdle, Mrs. Porter, Mrs. Oldfield. Together with, the theatrical life of Mr. Colly Cibber. London (Miller): 1742. 8vo.
A "boil-down" of Cibber's Apology.
A letter from Mr. Cibber, to Mr. Pope, inquiring into the motives that might induce him in his satyrical works, to be so frequently fond of Mr. Cibber's name. London (Lewis): 1742. 8vo. 1s.
Second edition, London, 1744, 8vo.; reprinted, London, 1777, 8vo. The sting of this pamphlet lies in an anecdote told of Pope at a house of ill-fame, in retaliation for his line:
"And has not Colley still his lord and whore?"
A letter to Mr. C—b—r, on his letter to Mr. P.... London (Roberts): 1742. 8vo. 26 pp. 6d.
Very scarce. Abusive of Pope—laudatory towards Cibber.
Difference between verbal and practical virtue. With a prefatory epistle from Mr. C...b...r to Mr. P. London (Roberts): 1742. Folio. Title 1 leaf: Epistle 1 leaf: pp. 7.
Very rare. A rhymed attack on Pope.
A blast upon Bays; or, a new lick at the Laureat. Containing, remarks upon a late tatling performance, entitled, A letter from Mr. Cibber to Mr. Pope, &c. And lo there appeared an old woman! Vide the Letter throughout. London (Robbins): 1742. 8vo. pp. 26. 6d.
A bitter attack on Cibber.
Sawney and Colley, a poetical dialogue: occasioned by a late letter from the Laureat of St. James's, to the Homer of Twickenham. Something in the manner of Dr. Swift. London (for J. H.): n.d. (1742). Folio. Title 1 leaf: pp. 21. 1s.
Very scarce. A coarse and ferocious attack on Pope in rhyme.
The egotist: or, Colley upon Cibber. Being his own picture retouch'd, to so plain a likeness, that no one, now, would have the face to own it, but himself. London (Lewis): 1743. 8vo. pp. 78 including title. 1s.
Anonymous, but undoubtedly by Cibber himself.
Another occasional letter from Mr. Cibber to Mr. Pope. Wherein the new hero's preferment to his throne, in the Dunciad, seems not to be accepted. And the author of that poem his more rightful claim to it, is asserted. With an expostulatory address to the Reverend Mr. W. W——n, author of the new preface, and adviser in the curious improvements of that satire. By Mr. Colley Cibber. London (Lewis): 1744. 8vo. 1s.
The Rev. W. W——n is Warburton. This tract was reprinted, Glasgow, n. d., 8vo. The two "Letters" were reprinted, London, 1777, with, I believe, a curious frontispiece representing the adventure related by Cibber at Pope's expense in the first "Letter." I am not certain whether the frontispiece was issued with the London or Glasgow reprint, having seen it in copies of both. In Bonn's "Lowndes" (1865) is mentioned a parody on this first "Letter," with the same title, except that "Mrs. Cibber's name" is substituted for "Mr. Cibber's name." Lowndes says: "A copy is described in Mr. Thorpe's catalogue, p. iv, 1832, 'with the frontispiece of Pope surprized with Mrs. Cibber.'" I gravely doubt the existence of any such work, and fancy that this frontispiece is the one just mentioned, but wrongly described. Herman (two Letters, with scarce front.), 40s.
A letter to Colley Cibber, Esq; on his transformation of King John. London. 1745. 8vo.
Cibber's mangling of "King John," entitled "Papal Tyranny in the Reign of King John," was produced at Covent Garden, February 15, 1745.
A new book of the Dunciad: occasion'd by Mr. Warburton's new edition of the Dunciad complete. By a gentleman of one of the Inns of Court. With several of Mr. Warburton's own notes, and likewise Notes Variorum. London (J. Payne & J. Bouquet): 1750. 4to. 1s.
Cibber dethroned and Warburton elevated to the throne of Dulness.
Shakspere's tragedy of Richard III., considered dramatically and historically; and in comparison with Cibber's alteration as at present in use on the stage, in a lecture delivered to the members of the Liverpool Literary, Scientific and Commercial Institution, by Thos. Stuart, of the Theatre Royal. (Liverpool): n. d. (about 1850). 12mo.
Cibber published in 1747 a work entitled "The Character and Conduct of Cicero, considered from the history of his life by Dr. Middleton;" but it is of little value or interest.
A BRIEF
SUPPLEMENT
TO
Colley Cibber, Esq;
HIS
LIVES
Of the late Famous
ACTORS and ACTRESSES.
Si tu scis, melior ego.
| By ANTHONY, | } | ASTON. |
| Vulgò TONY |
| 297 | 297 |
Printed for the AUTHOR.
* * * * * * *
Mr. Cibber is guilty of Omission,
that he hath not given us any
Description of the several Personages'
Beauties, or Faults——Faults (I say) of the
several ACTORS, &c. for
Nemo sine crimine vivit.
Or, as the late Duke of Buckingham says of
Characters, that, to shew a Man not defective,
————were to draw
A faultless Monster, that the World ne'er saw.
* * * * * * *
Mr. Betterton (although a superlative good Actor) labour'd under ill Figure, being clumsily made, having a great Head, a short thick Neck, stoop'd in the Shoulders, and had fat short Arms, which he rarely lifted higher than his Stomach.—His Left Hand frequently lodg'd in his Breast, between his Coat and Waist-coat, while, with his Right, he prepar'd his Speech.—His Actions were few, but just.—He had little Eyes, and a broad Face, a little Pock-fretten, a corpulent Body, and thick Legs, with large Feet.—He was better to meet, than to follow; for his Aspect was serious, venerable, and majestic; in his latter Time a little paralytic.—His Voice was low and grumbling; yet he could Tune it by an artful Climax, which enforc'd universal Attention, even from the Fops and Orange-Girls.—He was incapable of dancing, even in a Country-Dance; as was Mrs. BARRY: But their good Qualities were more than equal to their Deficiencies.—While Mrs. BRACEGIRDLE sung very agreeably in the LOVES of Mars and Venus, and danced in a Country-Dance, as well as Mr. WILKS, though not with so much Art and Foppery, but like a well-bred Gentlewoman.—Mr. Betterton was the most extensive Actor, from Alexander to Sir John Falstaff; but, in that last Character, he wanted the Waggery of ESTCOURT, the Drollery of HARPER, the Sallaciousness of JACK EVANS.—But, then, Estcourt was too trifling; Harper had too much of the Bartholomew-Fair; and Evans misplac'd his Humour.—Thus, you see what Flaws are in bright Diamonds:—And I have often wish'd that Mr. Betterton would have resign'd the Part of HAMLET to some young Actor, (who might have Personated, though not have Acted, it better) for, when he threw himself at Ophelia's Feet, he appear'd a little too grave for a young Student, lately come from the University of Wirtemberg; and his Repartees seem'd rather as Apopthegms from a sage Philosopher, than the sporting Flashes of a Young Hamlet; and no one else could have pleas'd the Town, he was so rooted in their Opinion.—His younger Cotemporary, (Betterton 63, Powel 40, Years old) POWEL, attempted several of Betterton's Parts, as Alexander, Jaffier, &c. but lost his Credit; as, in Alexander, he maintain'd not the Dignity of a King, but Out-Heroded Herod; and in his poison'd, mad Scene, out-rav'd all Probability; while Betterton kept his Passion under, and shew'd it most (as Fume smoaks most, when stifled). Betterton, from the Time he was dress'd, to the End of the Play, kept his Mind in the same Temperament and Adaptness, as the present Character required.—If I was to write of him all Day, I should still remember fresh Matter in his Behalf; and, before I part with him, suffer this facetious Story of him, and a Country Tenant of his.
Mr. Betterton had a small Farm near Reading, in the County of Berks; and the Countryman came, in the Time of Bartholomew-Fair, to pay his Rent.—Mr. Betterton took him to the Fair, and going to one Crawley's Puppet-Shew, offer'd Two Shillings for himself and Roger, his Tenant.—No, no, Sir, said Crawley; we never take Money of one another. This affronted Mr. Betterton who threw down the Money, and they enter'd.—Roger was hugeously diverted with Punch, and bred a great Noise, saying, that he would drink with him, for he was a merry Fellow.—Mr. Betterton told him, he was only a Puppet, made up of Sticks and Rags: However, Roger still cried out, that he would go and drink with Punch.—When Master took him behind, where the Puppets hung up, he swore, he thought Punch had been alive.—However, said he, though he be but Sticks and Rags, I'll give him Six-pence to drink my Health.—At Night, Mr. Betterton went to the Theatre, when was play'd the ORPHAN; Mr. Betterton acting Castalio; Mrs. Barry, Monimia.——Well (said Master) how dost like this Play, Roger? Why, I don't knows, (says Roger) its well enought for Sticks and Rags.
To end with this Phœnix of the Stage, I must say of him, as Hamlet does of his Father: "He was a Man (take him for all in all) I cannot look upon his Like again."
His Favourite, Mrs. BARRY, claims the next in Æstimation. They were both never better pleas'd, than in Playing together.—Mrs. Barry outshin'd Mrs. Bracegirdle in the Character of ZARA in the Mourning Bride, altho' Mr. Congreve design'd Almeria for that Favour.—And yet, this fine Creature was not handsome, her Mouth op'ning most on the Right Side, which she strove to draw t'other Way, and, at Times, composing her Face, as if sitting to have her Picture drawn.—Mrs. Barry was middle-siz'd, and had darkish Hair, light Eyes, dark Eye-brows, and was indifferently plump:—Her Face somewhat preceded her Action, as the latter did her Words, her Face ever expressing the Passions; not like the Actresses of late Times, who are afraid of putting their Faces out of the Form of Non-meaning, lest they should crack the Cerum, White-Wash, or other Cosmetic, trowel'd on. Mrs. Barry had a Manner of drawing out her Words, which became her, but not Mrs. Braidshaw, and Mrs. Porter, (Successors.)——To hear her speak the following Speech in the Orphan, was a Charm:
I'm ne'er so well pleas'd, as when I hear thee speak,
And listen to the Music of thy Voice.
And again:
Who's he that speaks with a Voice so sweet,
As the Shepherd pipes upon the Mountain,
When all his little Flock are gath'ring round him?
Neither she, nor any of the Actors of those Times, had any Tone in their speaking, (too much, lately, in Use.)—In Tragedy she was solemn and august—in Free Comedy alert, easy, and genteel—pleasant in her Face and Action; filling the Stage with Variety of Gesture.—She was Woman to Lady Shelton, of Norfolk, (my Godmother)—when Lord Rochester took her on the Stage; where for some Time, they could make nothing of her.—She could neither sing, nor dance, no, not in a Country-Dance.
Mrs. BRACEGIRDLE, that Diana of the Stage, hath many Places contending for her Birth—The most received Opinion is, that she was the Daughter of a Coachman, Coachmaker, or Letter-out of Coaches, in the Town of Northampton.—But I am inclinable to my Father's Opinion, (who had a great Value for her reported Virtue) that she was a distant Relation, and came out of Staffordshire, from about Walsal or Wolverhampton.—She had many Assailants on her Virtue, as Lord Lovelace, Mr. Congreve, the last of which had her Company most; but she ever resisted his vicious Attacks, and, yet, was always uneasy at his leaving her; on which Observation he made the following Song:
And, as Mr. Durfey alludes to it in his Puppet Song—in Don Quixot,
She was very shy of Lord Lovelace's Company, as being an engaging Man, who drest well: And as, every Day, his Servant came to her, to ask her how she did, she always return'd her Answer in the most obeisant Words and Behaviour, That she was indifferent well, she humbly thank'd his Lordship.—She was of a lovely Height, with dark-brown Hair and Eye-brows, black sparkling Eyes, and a fresh blushy Complexion; and, whenever she exerted herself, had an involuntary Flushing in her Breast, Neck and Face, having continually a chearful Aspect, and a fine Set of even white Teeth; never making an Exit, but that she left the Audience in an Imitation of her pleasant Countenance. Genteel Comedy was her chief Essay, and that too when in Men's Cloaths, in which she far surmounted all the Actresses of that and this Age.—Yet she had a Defect scarce perceptible, viz. her Right Shoulder a little protended, which, when in Men's Cloaths, was cover'd by a long or Campaign Peruke.—She was finely shap'd, and had very handsome Legs and Feet; and her Gait, or Walk, was free, manlike, and modest, when in Breeches.—Her Virtue had its Reward, both in Applause and Specie; for it happen'd, that as the Dukes of Dorset and Devonshire, Lord Hallifax, and other Nobles, over a Bottle, were all extolling Mrs. Bracegirdle's virtuous Behaviour, Come, says Lord Hallifax—You all commend her Virtue, &c. but why do we not present this incomparable Woman with something worthy her Acceptance? His Lordship deposited 200 Guineas, which the rest made up 800, and sent to her, with Encomiums on her Virtue.—She was, when on the Stage, diurnally Charitable, going often into Clare-Market, and giving Money to the poor unemploy'd Basket-women, insomuch that she could not pass that Neighbourhood without the thankful Acclamations of People of all Degrees; so that, if any Person had affronted her, they would have been in Danger of being kill'd directly; and yet this good Woman was an Actress.—She has been off the Stage these 26 Years or more, but was alive July 20, 1747; for I saw her in the Strand, London, then—with the Remains of charming Bracegirdle.
Mr. SANDFORD, although not usually deem'd an Actor of the first Rank, yet the Characters allotted him were such, that none besides, then, or since, ever topp'd; for his Figure, which was diminutive and mean, (being Round-shoulder'd, Meagre-fac'd, Spindle-shank'd, Splay-footed, with a sour Countenance, and long lean Arms) render'd him a proper Person to discharge Jago, Foresight, and Ma'lignij, in the Villain. But he fail'd in succeeding in a fine Description of a triumphant Cavalcade, in Alonzo, in the Mourning Bride, because his Figure was despicable, (although his Energy was, by his Voice and Action, enforc'd with great Soundness of Art, and Justice.)—This Person acted strongly with his Face,—and (as King Charles said) was the best Villain in the World.—He proceeded from the Sandfords of Sandford, that lies between Whitchurch and Newport, in Shropshire.—He would not be concern'd with Mr. Betterton, Mrs. Barry, &c. as a Sharer in the Revolt from Drury-Lane to Lincoln's-Inn-Fields; but said, This is my Agreement.—To Samuel Sandford, Gentleman, Threescore Shillings a Week.——Pho! pho! said Mr. Betterton, Three Pounds a Week.——No, no, said Sandford;—To Samuel Sandford, Gentleman, Threescore Shillings a Week. For which Cave Underhill, who was a ¾ Sharer, would often jeer Sandford; saying, Samuel Sandford, Gent, my Man.——Go, you Sot, said Sandford.—To which t'other ever replied, Samuel Sandford, my Man Samuel.
CAVE UNDERHILL, and Mr. DOGGET, will be the next treated of.
CAVE UNDERHILL, though not the best Actor in the Course of Precedency, was more admired by the Actors than the Audience—there being then no Rivals in his dry, heavy, downright Way in Low Comedy.—His few Parts were, The first Grave-digger in Hamlet,—Sancho Pancha, in the first Part of Don Quixot,—Ned Blunt, in the Rover,—Jacomo, in the Libertine, and the Host, in the Villain:—All which were dry, heavy Characters, except in Jacomo; in which, when he aim'd at any Archness, he fell into downright Insignificance.—He was about 50 Years of Age the latter End of King William's Reign, about six Foot high, long and broad-fac'd, and something more corpulent than this Author; his Face very like the Homo Sylvestris, or Champanza; for his Nose was flattish and short, and his Upper Lip very long and thick, with a wide Mouth and short Chin, a churlish Voice, and awkward Action, (leaping often up with both Legs at a Time, when he conceived any Thing waggish, and afterwards hugging himself at the Thought.)——He could not enter into any serious Character, much more Tragedy; and was the most confin'd Actor I ever saw: And could scarce be brought to speak a short Latin Speech in Don Quixot, when Sancho is made to say, Sit bonus Populus, bonus ero Gubernator; which he pronounced thus:
He was obliged to Mr. Betterton for thrusting him into the Character of Merryman in his Wanton Wife, or Amorous Widow; but Westheart Cave was too much of a Dullman.—His chief Atchievement was in Lolpoop, in the 'Squire of Alsatia; where it was almost impossible for him to deviate from himself: But he did great Injustice to Sir Sampson Legend in Love for Love, unless it had been true, that the Knight had been bred a Hog-driver.—In short, Underhill was far from being a good Actor—as appear'd by the late Ben. Johnson's assuming his Parts of Jacomo—the Grave-digger in Hamlet—and Judge Grypus in Amphytrion.—I know, Mr. Underhill was much cry'd up in his Time; but I am so stupid as not to know why.
Mr. DOGGET, indeed, cannot reasonably be so censur'd; for whoever decry'd him, must inevitably have laugh'd much, whenever he saw him act.
Mr. Dogget was but little regarded, 'till he chopp'd on the Character of Solon in the Marriage-Hater Match'd; and from that he vegetated fast in the Parts of Fondlewife in the Old Batchelor—Colignii, in the Villain—Hob, in the Country Wake—and Ben the Sailor, in Love for Love.—But, on a Time, he suffer'd himself to be expos'd, by attempting the serious Character of Phorbas in Oedipus, than which nothing cou'd be more ridiculous—for when he came to these Words—(But, oh! I wish Phorbas had perish'd in that very Moment)—the Audience conceived that it was spoke like Hob in his Dying-Speech.—They burst out into a loud Laughter; which sunk Tom Dogget's Progress in Tragedy from that Time.
Fælix quem faciunt aliena pericula cautum.
But our present Laureat had a better Opinion of himself;—for, in a few Nights afterwards, COLLEY, at the old Theatre, attempted the same Character; but was hiss'd,—his Voice sounding like Lord Foppington's—Ne Sutor ultra Crepidam.
Mr. Dogget was a little, lively, spract Man, about the Stature of Mr. L——, Sen. Bookseller in B—h, but better built.—His Behaviour modest, chearful, and complaisant.—He sung in Company very agreeably, and in Public very comically.—He danc'd the Cheshire Round full as well as the fam'd Capt. George, but with much more Nature and Nimbleness.—I have had the Pleasure of his Conversation for one Year, when I travell'd with him in his strolling Company, and found him a Man of very good Sense, but illiterate; for he wrote me Word thus—Sir, I will give you a hole instead of (whole) Share.—He dress'd neat, and something fine—in a plain Cloth Coat, and a brocaded Waistcoat:—But he is so recent, having been so often at Bath,—satis est.—He gave his Yearly Water-Badge, out of a warm Principle, (being a staunch Revolution-Whig.)——I cannot part with this Nonpareil, without saying, that he was the most faithful, pleasant Actor that ever was—for he never deceiv'd his Audience—because, while they gaz'd at him, he was working up the Joke, which broke out suddenly in involuntary Acclamations and Laughter.—Whereas our modern Actors are fumbling the dull Minutes, keeping the gaping Pit in Suspence of something delightful a coming,—Et parturiunt Montes, nascitur ridiculus Mus.
He was the best Face-player and Gesticulator, and a thorough Master of the several Dialects, except the Scots, (for he never was in Scotland) but was, for all that, a most excellent Sawney. Whoever would see him pictur'd, may view his Picture, in the Character of Sawney, at the Duke's Head in Lynn-Regis, in Norfolk.——While I travell'd with him, each Sharer kept his Horse, and was every where respected as a Gentleman.
Jack Verbruggen, in Point of Merit, will salute you next.
JACK VERBRUGGEN, that rough Diamond, shone more bright than all the artful, polish'd Brillants that ever sparkled on our Stage.—(JACK bore the BELL away.)—He had the Words perfect at one View, and Nature directed 'em into Voice and Action, in which last he was always pleasing—his Person being tall, well-built and clean; only he was a little In-kneed, which gave him a shambling Gate, which was a Carelessness, and became him.—His chief Parts were Bajazet, Oroonoko, Edgar in King Lear, Wilmore in the Rover, and Cassius, when Mr. Betterton play'd Brutus with him.—Then you might behold the grand Contest, viz. whether Nature or Art excell'd—Verbruggen wild and untaught, or Betterton in the Trammels of Instruction.—-In Edgar, in King Lear, Jack shew'd his Judgment most; for his Madness was unlimited: Whereas he sensibly felt a Tenderness for Cordelia, in these Words, (speaking to her)—As you did once know Edgar!—And you may best conceive his manly, wild Starts, by these Words in Oroonoko,—Ha! thou hast rous'd the Lyon [in] his Den; he stalks abroad, and the wild Forest trembles at his Roar:—Which was spoke, like a Lyon, by Oroonoko, and Jack Verbruggen; for Nature was so predominant, that his second Thoughts never alter'd his prime Performance.—The late Marquess of Hallifax order'd Oroonoko to be taken from George Powel, saying to Mr. Southern, the Author,—That Jack was the unpolish'd Hero, and wou'd do it best.—In the Rover (Wilmore) never were more beautiful Scenes than between him, and Mrs. Bracegirdle, in the Character of Helena; for, what with Verbruggen's untaught Airs, and her smiling Repartees, the Audience were afraid they were going off the Stage every Moment.—Verbruggen was Nature, without Extravagance—Freedom, without Licentiousness—and vociferous, without bellowing.——He was most indulgently soft, when he says to Imoinda,—I cannot, as I wou'd, bestow thee; and, as I ought, I dare not.—Yet, with all these Perfections, Jack did, and said, more silly Things than all the Actors besides; for he was drawn in at the common Cheat of Pricking at the Girdle, Cups and Balls, &c. and told his Wife one Day that he had found out a Way to raise a great Benefit.—I hope, said she, you'll have your Bills printed in Gold Letters.—No, no, better than that, said he; for I'll have the King's-Arms all in Gold Letters.—As Mr. Verbruggen had Nature for his Directress in Acting, so had a known Singer, Jemmy Bowen, the same in Music:—He, when practising a Song set by Mr. Purcell, some of the Music told him to grace and run a Division in such a Place. O let him alone, said Mr. Purcell; he will grace it more naturally than you, or I, can teach him.—In short, an Actor, like a Poet,
Nascitur, non fit.
And this Author prizes himself on that Attempt, as he hath had the Judgment of all the best Critics in the Character of Fondlewife in the Old Batchelor.—If you wou'd see Nature, say they, see Tony Aston—if Art, Colley Cibber;—and, indeed, I have shed mock Tears in that Part often involuntarily.
Mrs. VERBRUGGEN claims a Place next. She was all Art, and her Acting all acquir'd, but dress'd so nice, it look'd like Nature. There was not a Look, a Motion, but what were all design'd; and these at the same Word, Period, Occasion, Incident, were every Night, in the same Character, alike; and yet all sat charmingly easy on her.—Her Face, Motion, &c. chang'd at once: But the greatest, and usual, Position was Laughing, Flirting her Fan, and je ne scay quois,—with a Kind of affected Twitter.—She was very loath to accept of the Part of Weldon in Oroonoko, and that with just Reason, as being obliged to put on Men's Cloaths—having thick Legs and Thighs, corpulent and large Posteriours;—but yet the Town (that respected her) compounded, and receiv'd her with Applause; for she was the most pleasant Creature that ever appear'd: Adding to these, that she was a fine, fair Woman, plump, full-featur'd; her Face of a fine, smooth Oval, full of beautiful, well-dispos'd Moles on it, and on her Neck and Breast—Whatever she did was not to be call'd Acting; no, no, it was what she represented: She was neither more nor less, and was the most easy Actress in the World. The late Mrs. Oldfield borrow'd something of her Manner in free Comedy;—as for Tragedy, Mrs. Verbruggen never attempted it. Melanthe was her Master-piece; and the Part of Hillaria in Tunbridge-Walks cou'd not be said to be Acted by any one but her.—Her Maiden-Name was Percival; and she was the Widow of Mr. Mountford, (who was kill'd by Lord Mohun) when Mr. Verbruggen married her.—She was the best Conversation possible; never captious, or displeas'd at any Thing but what was gross or indecent; for she was cautious, lest fiery Jack shou'd so resent it as to breed a Quarrel;—for he wou'd often say,—Dammee! tho' I don't much value my Wife, yet no Body shall affront her, by G—d; and his Sword was drawn on the least Occasion, which was much in Fashion at the latter End of King William's Reign;—at which Time I came on the Stage, when Mr. Dogget left it; and then the facetious Joe Haines was declining in Years and Reputation, tho' a good Actor and Poet, his Prologues exceeding all ever wrote.—[Vide Love and a Bottle.]
JOE HAINES is more remarkable for the witty, tho' wicked, Pranks he play'd, and for his Prologues and Epilogues, than for Acting.—He was, at first, a Dancer.—After he had made his Tour of France, he narrowly escaped being seiz'd, and sent to the Bastile, for personating an English Peer, and running 3000 Livres in Debt in Paris; but, happily landing at Dover, he went to London, where in Bartholomew-Fair, he set up a Droll-Booth, and acted a new Droll, call'd, The Whore of Babylon, the Devil, and the Pope. This was in the first Year of King James II. when Joe was sent for, and roundly admonish'd, by Judge Pollixfen for it. Joe reply'd, That he did it in Respect to his Holiness; for, whereas many ignorant People believed the Pope to be a Beast, he shew'd him to be a fine, comely old Gentleman, as he was; not with Seven Heads, and Ten Horns, as the Scotch Parsons describe him. However, this Affair spoil'd Joe's expiring Credit; for next Morning, a Couple of Bailiffs seiz'd him in an Action of 20l. as the Bishop of Ely was passing by in his Coach.—Quoth Joe to the Bailiffs,—Gentlemen, here's my Cousin, the Bishop of Ely, going into his House; let me but speak to him, and he'll pay the Debt and Charges. The Bailiffs thought they might venture that, as they were within three or four Yards of him. So, up goes Joe to the Coach, pulling off his Hat, and got close to it. The Bishop order'd the Coach to stop, whilst Joe (close to his Ear) said softly, My Lord, here are two poor Men, who have such great Scruples of Conscience, that, I fear, they'll hang themselves.—Very well, said the Bishop. So, calling to the Bailiffs, he said, You two Men, come to me To-morrow Morning, and I'll satisfy you. The Men bow'd, and went away. Joe (hugging himself with his fallacious Device) went also his Way. In the Morning, the Bailiffs (expecting the Debt and Charges) repair'd to the Bishop's; where being introduced,—Well, said the Bishop, what are your Scruples of Conscience?—Scruples! (said the Bailiffs) we have no Scruples: We are Bailiffs, my Lord, who, Yesterday, arrested your Cousin, Joe Haines, for 20l. Your Lordship promised to satisfy us To-day, and we hope your Lordship will be as good as your Word.—The Bishop, reflecting that his Honour and Name would be expos'd, (if he complied not) paid the Debt and Charges.—There were two Parts of Plays (Nol Bluff in the Old Batchelor, and Roger in Æsop) which none ever touch'd but Joe Haines.—I own, I have copied him in Roger, as I did Mr. Dogget in Fondlewife.—But, now, for another Story of him.
In the long Vacation, when Harlots, Poets, and Players, are all poor,—Joe walking in Cross-Street, by Hatton-Garden, sees a fine Venison-Pasty come out of Glassop's, a Pastry-Cook's Shop, which a Boy carried to a Gentleman's House thereby.—Joe watch'd it; and seeing a Gentleman knock at the Door, he goes to the Door, and ask'd him if he had knock'd at it: Yes, said the Gentleman; the Door is open'd.—In goes the Gentleman, and Joe after him, to the Dining-Room.—Chairs were set, and all ready for the Pasty. The Master of the House took Joe for the Gentleman's Friend, whom he had invited to Dinner; which being over, the Gentleman departed. Joe sat still.—Says the Master of the House to Joe, Sir, I thought you would have gone with your Friend!—My Friend, said Joe; alas! I never saw him before in my Life.—No, Sir, replied the other: Pray, Sir, then how came you to Dinner here?—Sir, said Joe, I saw a Venison-Pasty carried in here; and, by this Means, have din'd very heartily of it. My Name is Joe Haines, (said he) I belong to the Theatre.—Oh, Mr. Haines, (continued the Gentleman) you are very welcome; you are a Man of Wit: Come, bring t'other bottle; which being finish'd, Joe, with good Manners, departed, and purposely left his Cane behind him, which he design'd to be an Introduction to another Dinner there: For, next Day, when they were gone to Dinner, Joe knock'd briskly at the Door, to call for his Cane, when the Gentleman of the House was telling a Friend of his the Trick he play'd the Day before.—Pray call Mr. Haines in.—So, Mr. Haines, said he; sit down, and partake of another Dinner.—To tell you the Truth, said Joe, I left my Cane Yesterday on purpose: At which they all laugh'd.—Now Joe (altho' while greedily eating) was very attentive to a Discourse on Humanity begun, and continued, by the Stranger Gentleman; wherein he advanced, that every Man's Duty was to assist another, whether with Advice, Money, Cloaths, Food, or whatever else. This Sort of Principle suited Joe's End, as by the Sequel will appear. The Company broke up, and Joe, and the Gentleman, walk'd away, (Joe sighing as he went along.) The Gentleman said to him, What do you sigh for?—Dear Sir, (quoth Joe) I fear my Landlord will, this Day, seize my Goods for only a Quarter's Rent, due last Week.—How much is the Money? said the Gentleman.—Fifty Shillings, said Joe, and the Patentees owe me Ten Pounds, which will be paid next Week.—Come, said the Gentleman, I'll lend thee Fifty Shillings on your Note, to pay me faithfully in three Weeks. Which Joe, with many Promises and Imprecations, sign'd.—But Joe, thereafter, had his Eyes looking out before him; and, whenever he saw the Gentleman, would carefully avoid him; which the Gentleman one Day perceiv'd, and going a-cross Smithfield, met Joe full in the Face, and, in the Middle of the Rounds, stopp'd him. Taking him by the Collar, Sirrah, said he, pray pay me now, you impudent, cheating Dog, or I'll beat you into a Jelly.—Joe fell down on his Knees, making a dismal Outcry, which drew a Mob about them, who enquir'd into the Occasion, which was told them; and they, upon hearing it, said to the Gentleman, That the poor Man could not pay it, if he had it not.—Well, said he, let him kneel down, and eat up that thin Sirreverence, and I'll forgive him, and give up his Note.—Joe promis'd he would, and presently eat it all up, smearing his Lips and Nose with the human Conserve. The Gentleman gave him his Note; when Joe ran and embrac'd him, kissing him, and bedaubing his Face, and setting the Mob a hollowing.
The Second Part of their LIVES, with the Continuation of Joe Haines' s Pranks, the Author hopes a fresh Advance for.——In the Interim, he thanks his Friends.
FINIS.
William Smith.
This judicious actor, who is said to have been originally a barrister, came into the Duke's Company, when acting under Sir William D'Avenant, in Lincoln's Inn Fields, about the year 1663. He rose soon after to the duties of Buckingham, in "King Henry the Eighth," and subsequently filled a range of characters distinguished by their variety and importance. Sir William Stanley, in Caryl's wretched play of the "English Princess," procured him additional estimation and applause, which were still farther enlarged by his performance of Stanford in Shadwell's "Sullen Lovers." Mr. Smith was the original Chamont in Otway's "Orphan," and played many parts of as much local consequence in pieces that are now forgotten.
Note.—All passages enclosed in square brackets are by the present editor, who is also responsible for the notes marked (L.).
Chetwood informs us that Mr. Smith was zealously attached to the interests of King James the Second, in whose army, attended by two servants, he entered as a volunteer. Upon the abdication of that monarch, he returned to the stage, by the persuasions of many friends, who admired his performances, and resumed his original part of Wilmore in the "Rover;" but having been received with considerable disapprobation, on account of his party principles, the audience was dismissed, and he departed from public life in the manner already mentioned. It is difficult to reconcile these discrepancies. Chetwood's minuteness looks like credibility, and Cibber has committed a mistake in stating that Mr. Smith "entirely quitted" the stage at this secession, he having returned in 1695, when at the earnest solicitations of his sincere friends Mr. Betterton and Mrs. Barry, strengthened by the influence of Congreve over many of his connections in high life, he consented to sustain the part of Scandal in that author's comedy of "Love for Love," upon its production at the new theatre in Little Lincoln's Inn Fields, when his inimitable performance imparted an extra charm to that admirable play. Continued peals of applause attested the satisfaction which his auditors felt at the return of their old favourite, and it seems singular that Congreve should have wholly overlooked this memorable event, in the "prologue" at least, where the defection of Williams and Mrs. Mountfort is thus obscurely stated: