Memoirs of the Life of the Rt. Hon. Richard Brinsley Sheridan Volume I Part 13

Mr. Sheridan, two fourteenths of the whole. 10,000_l_.

Mr. Linley, ditto 10,000_l_.

Dr. Ford, 3 ditto 15,000_l_.

Mr. Ewart, it will be perceived, though originally mentioned as one of the parties, had no concern in the final arrangement.

Though the letters, just cited, furnish a more detailed account than has yet been given to the public of this transaction by which Mr. Sheridan became possessed of his theatrical property, they still leave us in the dark with respect to the source from which his own means of completing the purchase were derived. Not even to Mr. Linley, while entering into all other details, does he hint at the fountain head from which this supply is to come:--

_"--gentes maluit ortus Mirari, quam nosse tuos."_

There was, indeed, something mysterious and miraculous about all his acquisitions, whether in love, in learning, in wit, or in wealth. How or when his stock of knowledge was laid in, n.o.body knew--it was as much a matter of marvel to those who never saw him read, as the existence of the chameleon has been to those who fancied it never eat. His advances in the heart of his mistress were, as we have seen, equally trackless and inaudible, and his triumph was the first that even rivals knew of his love. In like manner, the productions of his wit took the world by surprise,--being perfected in secret, till ready for display, and then seeming to break from under the cloud of his indolence in full maturity of splendor. His financial resources had no less an air of magic about them; and the mode by which he conjured up, at this time, the money for his first purchase into the theatre, remains, as far as I can learn, still a mystery. It has been said that Mr. Garrick supplied him with the means--but a perusal of the above letters must set that notion to rest.

There was evidently, at this time, no such confidential understanding between them as an act of friends.h.i.+p of so signal a nature would imply; and it appears that Sheridan had the purchase money ready, even before the terms upon which Garrick would sell were ascertained. That Doctor Ford should have advanced the money is not less improbable; for the share of which, contrary to his first intention, he ultimately became proprietor, absorbed, there is every reason to think, the whole of his disposable means. He was afterwards a sufferer by the concern to such an extent, as to be obliged, in consequence of his embarra.s.sments, to absent himself for a considerable time from England; and there are among the papers of Mr. Sheridan, several letters of remonstrance addressed to him by the son of Dr. Ford, in which some allusion to such a friendly service, had it ever occurred, would hardly have been omitted.

About the end of this year some dissensions arose between the new patentees and Mr. Lacy, in consequence of the expressed intention of the latter to introduce two other partners into the establishment, by the disposal of his share to Captain Thomson and a Mr. Langford. By an account of this transaction, which appears in a Periodical Paper published at the time, [Footnote: The Selector] and which, from its correctness in other particulars, I rather think may be depended on, it would seem that Sheridan, in his opposition to Lacy, had proceeded to the extremity of seceding from his own duties at the theatre, and inducing the princ.i.p.al actors to adopt the same line of conduct.

"Does not the rage (asks this writer) of the new managers, all directed against the innocent and justifiable conduct of Mr. Lacy, look as if they meant to rule a theatre, of which they have only a moiety among them, and feared the additional weight and influence which would be given to Mr. Lacy by the a.s.sistance of Captain Thomson and Mr. Langford?

If their intentions were right, why should they fear to have their power balanced, and their conduct examined? Is there a precedent in the annals of the theatre, where the acting manager deserted the general property, left the house, and seduced the actors from their duties--why?

forsooth, because he was angry. Is not such conduct actionable? In any concern of common property, Lord Mansfield would make it so. And, what an insult to the public, from whose indulgence and favor this conceited young man, with his wife and family, are to receive their daily bread!

Because Mr. Lacy, in his opinion, had used him ill--his patrons and benefactors might go to the devil! Mr. Lacy acted with great temper and moderation; and, in order that the public might not be wholly disappointed, he brought on old stock-plays--his brother manager having robbed him of the means and instruments to do otherwise, by taking away the performers."

It is also intimated in the same publication that Mr. Garrick had on this occasion "given Mr. Sheridan credit on his banker for 20,000_l_. for law expenses or for the purchase of Messrs. Langford and Thomson's shares."

The dispute, however, was adjusted amicably. Mr. Lacy was prevailed upon to write an apology to the public, and the design of disposing of his share in the theatre was, for the present, relinquished.

There is an allusion to this reconciliation in the following characteristic letter, addressed by Sheridan to Mr. Linley in the spring of the following year.

"DEAR SIR,

"You write to me though you tell me you have nothing to say--now, I have reversed the case, and have not wrote to you, because I have had so much to say. However, I find I have delayed too long to attempt now to transmit you a long detail of our theatrical manoeuvres; but you must not attribute my not writing to idleness, but on the contrary to my _not_ having been idle.

"You represent your situation of mind between _hopes_ and _fears_. I am afraid I should argue in vain (as I have often on this point before) were I to tell you, that it is always better to encourage the former than the latter. It may be very prudent to mix a little _fear_ by way of alloy with a good solid ma.s.s of _hope_; but you, on the contrary, always deal in _apprehension_ by the pound, and take _confidence_ by the grain, and spread as thin as leaf gold. In fact, though a metaphor mayn't explain it, the truth is, that, in all undertakings which depend princ.i.p.ally on ourselves, the surest way not to fail is to _determine to succeed_.

"It would be endless to say more at present about theatrical matters, only, that every thing is going on very well. Lacy promised me to write to you, which I suppose, however, he has not done. At our first meeting after you left town, he cleared away all my doubts about his sincerity; and I dare swear we shall never have the least misunderstanding again, nor do I believe he will ever take any distinct counsel in future.

Relative to your affair he has not the shade of an objection remaining, and is only anxious that you may not take amiss his boggling at first.

We have, by and with the advice of the privy council, concluded to have Noverre over, and there is a species of pantomime to be shortly put on foot, which is to draw all the human kind to Drury. [Footnote: I find that the pantomime at Drury Lane this year was a revival of "Harlequin's Invasion," and that at Covent Garden, "Harlequin's Frolics."] This is become absolutely necessary on account of a marvellous preparation of the kind which is making at Covent Garden.

"Touching the tragedies you mention, if you speak of them merely as certain tragedies that may be had, I should think it impossible we could find the least room, as you know Garrick saddles us with one which we _must_ bring out. But, if you have any particular desire that one of them should be done, it is another affair, and I should be glad to see them. Otherwise, I would much rather you would save the disagreeableness of giving my opinion to a fresh tragic bard, being already in disgrace with about nine of that irascible fraternity.

"Betsey has been alarmed about Tom, but without reason. He is in my opinion better than when you left him, at least to appearance, and the cold he caught is gone. We sent to see him at Battersea, and would have persuaded him to remove to Orchard Street; but he thinks the air does him good, and he seems with people where he is at home, and may divert himself, which, perhaps, will do him more good than the air,--but he is to be with us soon.

"Ormsby has sent me a silver branch on the score of the Duenna. This will cost me, what of all things I am least free of, a letter: and it should have been a poetical one, too, if the present had been any piece of plate but a candlestick!--I believe I must melt it into a bowl to make verses on it, for there is no possibility of bringing candle, candlestick, or snuffers, into metre. However, as the gift was owing to the muse, and the manner of it very friendly, I believe I shall try to jingle a little on the occasion; at least, a few such stanzas as might gain a cup of tea from the urn at Bath-Easton.

"Betsey is very well, and on the point of giving Tom up to feed like a Christian and a gentleman, or, in other words, of weaning, waining, or weening him. As for the young gentleman himself, his progress is so rapid, that one may plainly see the astonishment the sun is in of a morning, at the improvement of the night. Our loves to all.

"Yours ever, and truly,

"R. B. SHERIDAN."

The first contribution which the dramatic talent of the new manager furnished to the stock of the theatre, was an alteration of Vanbrugh's comedy, The Relapse, which was brought out on the 24th of February, 1777, under the t.i.tle of "A Trip to Scarborough."

In reading the original play, we are struck with surprise, that Sheridan should ever have hoped to be able to _defecate_ such dialogue, and yet leave any of the wit, whose whole spirit is in the lees, behind. The very life of such characters as Berinthia is their licentiousness, and it is with them, as with objects that are luminous from putrescence,--to remove their taint is to extinguish their light. If Sheridan, indeed, had subst.i.tuted some of his own wit for that which he took away, the inanition that followed the operation would have been much less sensibly felt. But to be so liberal of a treasure so precious, and for the enrichment of the work of another, could hardly have been expected from him. Besides, it may be doubted whether the subject had not already yielded its utmost to Vanbrugh, and whether even in the hands of Sheridan, it could have been brought to bear a second crop of wit. Here and there through the dialogue, there are some touches from his pen-- more, however, in the style of his farce than his comedy. For instance, that speech of Lord Foppington, where, directing the hosier not "to thicken the calves of his stockings so much," he says, "You should always remember, Mr. Hosier, that if you make a n.o.bleman's spring legs as robust as his autumnal calves, you commit a monstrous impropriety, and make no allowance for the fatigues of the winter." Again, the following dialogue:--

"_Jeweller._ I hope, my lord, those buckles have had the unspeakable satisfaction of being honored with your lords.h.i.+p's approbation?

"_Lord F._ Why, they are of a pretty fancy; but don't you think them rather of the smallest?

"_Jeweller._ My lord, they could not well be larger, to keep on your lords.h.i.+p's shoe.

"_Lord F._ My good sir, you forget that these matters are not as they used to be: formerly, indeed, the buckle was a sort of machine, intended to keep on the shoe; but the case is now quite reversed, and the shoe is of no earthly use but to keep on the buckle."

About this time Mrs. Sheridan went to pa.s.s a few weeks with her father and mother at Bath, while Sheridan himself remained in town, to superintend the concerns of the theatre. During this interval he addressed to her the following verses, which I quote, less from their own peculiar merit, than as a proof how little his heart had yet lost of those first feelings of love and gallantry which too often expire in matrimony, as Faith and Hope do in heaven, and from the same causes--

"One lost in certainty, and one in joy."

TO LAURA.

"Near Avon's ridgy bank there grows A willow of no vulgar size, That tree first heard poor Silvio's woes, And heard how bright were Laura's eyes.

Its boughs were shade from heat or show'r, Its roots a moss-grown seat became; Its leaves would strew the maiden's bow'r, Its bark was shatter'd with her name!

Once on a blossom-crowned day Of mirth-inspiring May, Silvio, beneath this willow's sober shade, In sullen contemplation laid,

Did mock the meadow's flowery pride,-- Rail'd at the dance and sportive ring;-- The tabor's call he did deride, And said, _it was not Spring_.

He scorn'd the sky of azure blue, He scorn'd whate'er could mirth bespeak; He chid the beam that drank the dew, And chid the gale that fann'd his glowing cheek.

Unpaid the season's wanton lay, For still he sigh'd, and said, it _was not May_.

"Ah, why should the glittering stream Reflect thus delusive the scene?

Ah, why does a rosy-ting'd beam Thus vainly enamel the green?

To me nor joy nor light they bring: I tell thee, Phoebus, _'tis not Spring_.

"Sweet tut'ress of music and love, Sweet bird, if 'tis thee that I hear, Why left you so early the grove, To lavish your melody here?

Cease, then, mistaken thus to sing, Sweet nightingale! it _is not Spring_.

"The gale courts my locks but to tease, And, Zephyr, I call not on thee: Thy fragrance no longer can please, Then rob not the blossoms for me: But hence unload thy balmy wing, Believe me, Zephyr, 'tis _not Spring_.

"Yet the lily has drank of the show'r, And the rose 'gins to peep on the day; And yon bee seems to search for a flow'r, As busy as if it were May:-- In vain, thou senseless flutt'ring thing, My heart informs me, _'tis not Spring."_

May pois'd her roseate wings, for she had heard The mourner, as she pa.s.s'd the vales along; And, silencing her own indignant bird, She thus reprov'd poor Silvio's song.

"How false is the sight of a lover; How ready his spleen to discover What reason would never allow!

Why,--Silvio, my suns.h.i.+ne and showers, My blossoms, my birds, and my flow'rs, Were never more perfect than now.

"The water's reflection is true, The green is enamell'd to view, And Philomel sings on the spray; The gale is the breathing of spring, 'Tis fragrance it bears on its wing, And the bee is a.s.sur'd it is _May_."

"Pardon (said Silvio with a gus.h.i.+ng tear), _'Tis_ spring, sweet nymph, _but Laura is not here_."

In sending these verses to Mrs. Sheridan, he had also written her a description of some splendid party, at which he had lately been present, where all the finest women of the world of fas.h.i.+on were a.s.sembled. His praises of their beauty, as well as his account of their flattering attentions to himself, awakened a feeling of at least poetical jealousy in Mrs. Sheridan, which she expressed in the following answer to his verses--taking occasion, at the same time, to pay some generous compliments to the most brilliant among his new fas.h.i.+onable friends.

Though her verses are of that kind which we read more with interest than admiration, they have quite enough of talent for the gentle themes to which she aspired; and there is, besides, a charm about them, as coming from Mrs. Sheridan, to which far better poetry could not pretend.