CHAPTER XI.

THE LAST SEASON.

1775-1776.

WE are now arrived at the commencement of the last season during which this incomparable actor played. It was to be the most remarkable in the annals of Drury Lane. Great as had been the enthusiasm of the old Goodman's Fields era, it was to be as nothing, compared with the approaching excitement. In comparison with it, the unmeaning fureur, which it has been the fashion to expend on the retirement of later actors, or actresses, seems feeble indeed, or prompted by good-nature.

It is not too much to say, that the whole kingdom prepared to take part in this ceremonial; not only the whole kingdom, but strangers from foreign countriesat a period, too, when the inconvenience and tediousness of travel quadrupled the importance of the compliment-began to make their plans for attending. People in remote corners of the country, who had been hearing of Garrick all their lives, now determined to go up to town, and not let this last and great chance go by. The old interest seemed to revive. It was discovered, once more, that he was the finest, the most incomparable of actors. No one had ever approached himhis like would never be seen. The welcome name of

Roscius was again heard; the public indeed had, at least with but one interval of inconsistency, been faithful to him; he had no cause to complain of that true and fast mistress, though familiarity had weakened her raptures. Now the papers took up the old strain, and nothing was heard of but the approaching departure of Roscius.

Perhaps to do honour to the festival that was approaching, before the new season began he made some very important alterations in the theatre. These were so extensive and serious, that the outlay must have been considerable, and it was a spirited proceeding on Garrick's part, considering that he had made up his mind to retire.

The Brothers Adam, now architects of reputation, furnished the designs. The façade was fitted with pilasters, pediment, balcony, and colonnade, and crowned at the top with the singular device of a military trophy-a helmet and coat of mail. At one corner was a lion, at the other a unicorn. Great improvements were made in the approaches to the boxes, and part of the "Rose Tavern," in Bridge Street, was taken to give more room. The in

*

* At the north end of Cross Court, when Charles Lamb was taken to the play, there was a portal of some architectural pretensions, though reduced to humble use, serving at present for an entrance to a printing office. This old doorway, if you are young, reader, you may know, was the identical entrance to old Drury-Garrick's Drury-all of it that is left." This was written about 1820. He was taken to the play in 1781-only five years after Garrick had gone-and heard the women in the pit crying-"Chase some oranges-chase some numparels-'chase a bill of the play!'" Among Garrick's papers, was put away the following compliment :—

"ON THE NEW FRONT OF DRURY LANE.

"Garrick, ashamed to poke his nose

So sheepishly beneath the rose,
Resolves this year to put a front,

And set a better face upon 't.

side, too, was all remodelled. "It was noble," he said. The interior had a grand and spacious air. The decorations were in the Italian style, then in fashion, overlaid with the garlands and vases which spread over the Adelphi houses, and even over the chimneypieces we see in old mansions of this era. The theatre seems to have been wider than it is now, and more in the shape of a square, and the seats were disposed in galleries, rather than boxes. Every one could see and hear to the best advantage.

He might, now, begin to feel a little nervous as to the profits from the theatre, which, most likely from the increased expenses of management, and not from decay of attraction, were falling steadily year by year. I find from a paper in the possession of Mr. Forster, that in the season 1769-70, the balance available, after all deductions, amounted to the handsome sum of 9,4637. This left the partners nearly five thousand pounds each. But from that year of prosperity it began to grow less, and sank steadily, in the year 1776-7, to 45007.* By a little account, too, for the season 1775-6,† we can see what a handsome share Garrick had-8007. a year for acting, and 5007. for management. Lacy besides owed him a large sum, for which Garrick held a mortgage on his share of the patent. Thus heavily engaged, he knew well how precarious was theatrical property, and rightly sus

This face will never make amends
For turning tail upon his friends,
Who own, by general consent,

His face the best stage ornament."

-Lloyd's Evening Post.

The renters' renewal fines seemed to be equal to abont 2007. a-year additional.

+ Given in the Gar. Cor., vol. ii., p. 178.

pecting that the establishment would presently grow beyond the control of his sagacity, which was his real security, he chose, with wonderful tact, the right moment to withdraw. He showed his wisdom. Within an incredibly short time after his departure all was decay and ruin. He longed for an interval before the great curtain fell, which he might devote to "living as a gentleman.” Sixty seemed a little premature, when we think of the many artists, singers as well as players, who have been so lost to their own dignity and self-respect as to linger ingloriously on the stage, which they totter across, mere wrecks and shadows, and whom audiences pity or tolerate with good-natured contempt. We may at least admire the wise selfrestraint of Garrick, who determined to abstain in time, and carry away with him respect and admiration. It is the unworthy greed of money that tempts such unworthy exhibition; which indeed brings its own heavy penalty; for such lingerers do not consider that this holding up the spectacle of their own decay, obscures their old and genuine glory, and that these feeble and exhausted efforts, are taken as the standard of what had been their best exertions.

With the usual eagerness to have a precise cause for everything, the gossiping world settled that he had been driven from the stage by the persecution of three of his actresses. This notion was ill-naturedly relished, and epigrams were duly made and repeated. One was entitled :

"I have no nerves,' says Yg; I cannot act.'

I've lost my limbs.' cries Atis fact.'

Yallscreams, 'I've lost my voice, my throat's so sore'—
Garrick declares he'll play the fool no more."

The ladies alluded to were the vivacious Abington, Miss Younge and Mrs. Yates-admirable actresses, and a trio whom it would be vain to think of matching at any theatre. Almost in the year of his departure from the stage, he had disputes with these petulant ladies, who were as froward as spoilt children; but more than two years before, he had formed his resolution, and was setting things in order for his retreat. It was not a sudden resolve, and many things combined to make it a natural one. In fact, the notion, as we have seen, had occurred to him often during his career. There was the weary burden of the theatre, with its discussions and responsibility, and his querulous partner. Its success as a speculative undertaking was precarious, and in a great measure depended on his own attraction; and when he lectured his contumacious actresses he was quite warranted in reminding them that, with all their gifts, they were not sufficient lodestars to attract the town, but when the house grew thin, his appearance was necessary to fill the theatre. This was the simple truth, and a most surprising one. Management, therefore, and acting, formed a double burden, and one too much for him.

There were many symptoms of this want of discipline and growing decay; as when Weston would come drunk to rehearsal some morning, and be scarcely able to utter a word. Garrick was justly displeased; and still more so, when an officious amateur—–