Their Majesties' Servants (Volume 3 of 3)
llowed in due time their great master. Of these, Samuel Reddish was a player
Irish papers,-that he was "a gentleman of easy fortune." This description was turned against him by his old enemy, Macklin, on one occasion, when Reddish in a part he was acting, threw away an elegantly-bound book, which he was su
cter that he took his melancholy leave of the stage at Covent Garden, shaken in mind and memory, on the 3d of May[30] 1779; Mrs. Bulkley was then the Imogen. His career in London was but of twelve years, and it
tood next; he thought Romeo was one of his happiest impersonations, but the public preferred his Macduff and Shylock. As Alonzo ("Revenge") he made a favourable impression; his Castalio, Lothario, and Orlando were indifferent, and his Alexander bad. Reddish was, however, an impulsive actor, often feeling more than the immobility of his features would permit him to show; and he endeavoured to make up for it by violence and impetuosity of action. He was once acting Castalio, when the part of his brother Polydore was played by Smith. In the last act of the "Orphan," Polydore gives his brother the lie, calls him "coward!"
while Garrick acted Hastings, at the request of several ladies of rank who patronised Mrs. Canning. She repeated Jane Shore, and subsequently played Perdita to the Florizel of "gentle" Cautherley,-who was said to be a natural son, certainly a well-trained pupil of Garrick. Her next part was Mrs. Beverley to Garrick's Beverley; her fourth, Octavia (in "All for Love") to the Antony of Reddish, whose wife she became, or at least is said to have become, at an unlucky season. As early as the year 1773, Reddish exhibited one symptom of the malady which compelled him ultimately to retire, namely the want of memory, which indicates weakness of the brain. In March of that year, he played Alonzo, in Home's tragedy so called; he was the original representative of the part. Although Alonzo is the hero, he does not appear till the play is half over, and
ess, and wandering. Some one congratulated him on being well enough to play. "Aye, sir! and I shall astonish you in the garden scene!" He thought he was to act Romeo. He could neither be persuaded nor convinced to the contrary, for a long time, and then only to fall into the old delusion. "Am I to play Posthumus? I'm sorry for it, but what must be, must be!" and then he walked to the theatre, his friend accompanying him, and pitying the poor fellow, who went on rehearsing Romeo, by the way. He was so impr
ere
his sentence w
om may in
up, and he answere
your h
rom henc
had no sooner passed the wing than the old delusion returned; he w
ght from yonde
t, and Juliet
of your knowing, to strangers of his quality,"-Reddish was Posthumus again, and to the remark of the Frenchman,-"Sir, we have known together in Orleans," he replied in the clear, level tone which distinguished him,-"Since when I have be
lete wreck-his love of good living, and his dislike of inferior company. He drank greedily his draught of milk, out of a wooden bowl, but the "gentleman of easy fortune" complained bitterly of his forced association with the low people who thronged the gallery. Poor Reddish! he was moved to better air, improved diet, and less plebeian society,-in the Asylum at York. The outside world had be
owe, under the famous mastership of Busby. Like Booth, Ross first tried his fortune on the Dublin stage in 1749, when he came to London to be of the school of Garrick, as Booth came to be a follower of Betterton. Both men had pleasing and powerful voices and fine figures, but Ross's countenance lacked expression. Ross, like Booth, played Young
as musica
d, perhaps, u
t," till the town wearied of him. He had been at Drury Lane, from 1751, when he first appeared as Young Bevil, to 1757; and at Covent Gard
stands the New Post Office. It says something for Ross's prudence, despite his defects, that he had saved £7000, which he expended on the construction and completion of this house.[33] It was opened in December 1769. "Strange," says Mr. Robert Chambers, "to recall the circumstances of its opening. No Princes Street then, for the belles and beaux-no new town wha
failing to be profitable to him), from which he was relieved by receiving annually from an anonymous donor the sum of £60. It was by mere accident
apprentices were turned from their evil ways; and young men given to philandering with Milwoods and to thoughts of killing their uncles, were frightened into a better state of things. One who was thus rescued used to send, anonymously, ten guineas yearly to Ro
ed; but in fine gentlemen, he "looked like Tom Errand in Beau Clincher's clothes." Philip in "High Life Below Stairs," Sir Bashful Constant, Major Oakley, and Sir Oliver Surface, were among his original characters. His for
r, Charles Surface. Meanwhile, he had earned the honourable addition to his name. If the stage had no greater clown and old man than Yates, it had no more perfect gentleman than Smith; who, besides Charles Surface, originally represented (in London) Glenalvon, Mason's Athelwold, and Edwin. In gay comedy lay his strength, but he was
widow of a Courtenay of Devon, and her union with an actor was described as a disgrace to her family. Smith offered to withdraw from the stage, if the family would secure to him an annuity
p. On his retirement, he married a widow with a fortune ample enough, when added to his own, to enable him to live like a country gentleman at Bury St. Edmunds, wh
rsons, but could put on their features, even those of beautiful women! He played in tragedy and comedy well; but only when he mimicked some other actor throughout the piece. He used also to reproduce Foote's imitations of the older actors, and I remember Mathews's imitations of the imitations of Wilkinson. He had been long connected with York, and very little with Lon
th there, and vexing his friends, and about to lose his clerkship in the Pension Office, Ned Shuter used to say to him, "You'll be a great actor when I am laid low." The town, at first, did not relish his humour; but, at last, relished it so much, that they allowed him any liberty. He might go o
merely to sing 'Tag-rag-merry-derry;'" says Adolphus. Henderson pronounced his bye-play as unequalled. In Sir Hugh Evans, when preparing for the duel, Henderson had seen him, we are told, for many minutes together, keep the house in an ecstasy of merriment, without uttering a single w
was distinguished as "Tyrant Aikin;" the other for having fought a bloodless duel with John
ing called the "Gentleman Actor," was a player, who, like Brereton, was always struggling to reach the high
which latter he was the original representative. His self-estimation could not maintain him before a London audience, and he trave
duce to forget his identity with this part. Sensitive in other respects, this scholarly actor, with a glare in his eye, a prominence
of churlish humour with the most tender sympathy. His career extended from 1765 to 1795; and there was no actor with so many
s, planted on Queen Caroline's Mount, for scene and senate. The park-keeper, who had often seen him wending that way, full of thought, once lay hidden near, and watched his proceedings. Bensley was rehearsing the scene before his judges, and the listener must have been sorely puzzled, as he heard allusions made to chains and conquests,
s, "were satisfied, for they had not yet got beyond the conventional delineation of Teague and Father Foigard, types of Irish savagery and Catholic Jesuitism. Cumberland and Sheridan both thanked my father for redeeming their creations from caricature." Hereby does Moody suffer retribution. The best actor of Irishmen of his time, he was ashamed of being taken for one. His name was Cochrane; he was a native of Cork, where he had been apprenticed to his father, a hairdresser; but he chose to call himself Moody, and to declare that he was not born in Cork, but somewhere near Clare Market. Foolish ambition! Taking h
a nation eve
nsured, want
wn their sport,
notions from
people as fo
country banish'
'er, the slavis
en'd, scorns he
, Moody, we no
foibles, from the
the stage Irishman into repute, and rendered the character one of a distinct line whereby a performer might acquire reputation. The Thespian Dictionary says of Owenson, for whose sake Lady Morgan disparaged Moody, "he chiefly supported Irish character, in which he was a fav
ban villa; and in his garden by the side of Barnes Common, he not only raised vegetables, but
er, kept his own, and had no rival till Johnstone appeared in 1784,[39] without any idea of rivalry, for the latter began his career as an operatic singer. Moody created Sir Callaghan O'Brallaghan, in "Love à la Mode;" Captain O'Cutter, in the "Jealous Wife;" the Irishman, in the "Register Office;" Major O'Flaherty, in the "West Indian;" Sir Patrick O'Neale, in the "Irish Widow," and other Irish characters of less not
easure of his ability. From that year 1765 to 1796, Dodd was the darling of the public in his peculiar line. For fops of the old school, or old men who would pass for young fops, for simpletons and cunning knaves, for wearing a now obsolete modish costume, for "the nice conduct of a clouded cane," for carrying a china snuff-box, and, above all, for his unsurpassable style of taking a pinch, Dodd was really a wonderful actor. He wore his sword, cocked or carried his hat, displayed his ruffle, and moved about in a poising, tottering sort of way which was all his own, and always perfect. His Abel Drugger stood next to Weston's, if not to Garrick's,-but Garrick said Weston's was the finest the stage had ever seen; and his Sir Andrew Aguechee
o house-keeping together, like Booth and Susan Mountfort, but the nymph was faithless, and there was a scandal, and a separation. The public condemned the lady, as she one night learnt by their hissing, but the saucy beauty stepped unabashed to the front, and told her censurers that if she failed in her duty or powers as an actress, they were right in their reproof; "but," she added with an air of Woffin
Foote, and to have travelled in some humble capacity abroad, where he learnt French, and the way to play French valets and similar characters. Baddeley was the or
itting-rooms. He assigned to them a little bit of acting also;-that they might not appear dependents, he bequeathed a trifle to each, which each was to give away in charity, with an air of its being his own! Mindful, too, of their ease, habits, and sentiment, he left funds for the building of a "smoking summer-house," out of wood from Old Drury, and in si
r infringed the statute of mortmain, and that the property, for want of heir, escheated to the crown. Strange, th
Here's a pretty fellow!" cried Foote; "I allowed him to take my spit from the rack and stick it by his side, and
irty years of service; namely, Parsons, the original Crabtree, and Sir Fretful Plagiary,
ed the stage. He was a merry, honest fellow, who kept the house in a roar by his looks as well as words, and
rse-nail, with the head towards him!" we are told "there could not be a finer illustration of the character which Congreve meant to represent, than Parsons showed at that time in his face and attitude." He was finely discriminating, too. His Skirmish in the "Deserter"
estic incident. His second wife was Dorothy Stewart, niece to the Earl of Galloway, whom he had married after the lively young lady had run away from a convent at Lille. Of this marriage there was a little son, who had for tutor a reverend young clergy
pes of employment in the theatre, he had been told to go for a soldier. Garrick would not have him; Foote pronounced his tragedy bad; but thought his comedy would do. He "strolled," struggled, starved; and then was engaged first by Ga
atentees. From the difficulties in which this involved him he never relieved himself, and his life became a struggle between bailiffs eager to catch him, and Palmer eager to escape from bailiffs. Sometimes he passed a week together in the theatre; at others, he was carried out of it in some mysterious bit of theatrical property. From 1761[45] to 1798 he was on the London stage, one of the best general actors it ever had, except in singing parts and old men, and some tragic charact
Palmer repeated, with abounding smile and action to make up for dropped words. On another occasion, this actor took advantage of an uproar in front, to seem to deliver a prologue of which he knew nothing. He moved his lips, extended his arms, touched his heart, and said nothing. Suddenly came a lull, and then Pa
maining children who depended on him, affected him deeply, and, despite all effort, even when acting, he could not keep the dead or the living for a moment out of his memory. At length the night came when he was to repeat the character of the "Stranger," and then there was no simulation in his mournful aspect. He had got through his part to the middl
xercised an unrighteous calling. To support their theory, they invented the story that Palmer was stricken after uttering the quotation, in the first scene of the third act, "there is another
h his head bent blandly forward, his eyes turned up, his hand on his heart, and a phrase after the manner, if not of the very matter, of Joseph Surface, of which h
lly rate me too highly. The utmost I ever did in that way was, on onc
em concluded it, a great player came, charmed, and departed, leaving a name and a
stall a
TNO
uld be 5
Earl of Essex"-3d October 1757
1766-67. He appeared at the Edinburgh Theat
ed by shareholders, and Ross seems
suddenly in 179
] 1
88 (2d
ng's farewe
uld be H
pearance in England took
oderate length of this part contributed
ance as an actress wa
s Bellamy's Life of Par
etful Plagiary as his las
was such a story as this curren
rance on any sta
DERSON