Part 13

The assertion in the latter line however is not true, as a handsome subscription was made to enable the disappointed Comedians to return in comfort to France, which amounted to 600_l._

Handel hired the Opera-house in 1738, for the performance of Oratorios twice a week.

One of the most extraordinary events upon record in the history of the stage occurred in 1749, when the Duke of Montague, in concert with some other wits, determined to make trial of the credulity of the publick, in order to ascertain how far it would extend: in the accomplishment of this purpose they inserted several most absurd and ridiculous advertisements in the newspapers, one of which announced that on Monday, the 16th of January, a man would enter a common wine-bottle on the stage, and sing in it. Contrary to all _probable_ calculation, the Little Theatre in the Haymarket received an overflowing audience, who waited without musick and with exemplary patience till eight o'clock. At that hour the usual testimonies of discontent appeared, to the terror of the proprietors of the house. And the contrivers of the scheme being now totally at a loss how to dismiss their dupes, a person was at length deputed to offer the return of the admission-money. At the same moment another unfortunately added, that the Conjuror would enter a pint bottle for _double_ prices. The riot then became general, and some injury occurred to the ladies' dresses and the gentlemen's wigs in effecting their escape from the Theatre. A party who were determined on mischief remained, and proceeded to demolish the boxes, benches, scenes, &c. &c. which they carried into the street, and burnt before the Guards arrived to prevent it.

Though the following incident, and some others of a similar nature, are not intrinsically worth notice; yet, as they serve to fill the general outline I have undertaken to sketch of the manners of the last century, they are necessarily introduced. During the season of 1757 the audience of Covent-garden Theatre missed their favourite actor Barry; and finding that the month of December had arrived without producing him, they loudly demanded his appearance, when Mr. Smith, stepping forward, assured them, that to his knowledge Mr. Rich was then engaged in a treaty with Mr. Barry. This information satisfied the majority; but, several riotous persons continuing their vociferation, partial battles took place in the pit, and even blood was shed before the civil and military powers conveyed the delinquents to the office of Justice Fielding.

An article inserted in the London Chronicle in November 1758 expresses the writer's surprize that the Theatres and Opera-house were not furnished with ventilators, as he was convinced many severe complaints had been and were then caused by the profuse perspirations of individuals suddenly encountering the chill air of the streets.

_Spouting_ Clubs, or, in other words, assemblies of persons ardent admirers of the antient art of Acting, were known before the middle of the century, and have flourished, under the influence of some unavoidable mutations, to the present moment. The violent action of the members, their improper emphasis, and their grimaces, have frequently been successfully ridiculed; but the evil still exists in private Theatres, where it is asserted some vices are acquired which are not very creditable to the possessors; and I shall only add that in my opinion youth is generally sufficiently presuming without having recourse to this improper mode of _education_. Influenced by this conviction, I am always grieved to hear of private plays at colleges and schools, and particularly at _female_ boarding-schools. It is from the latter custom, that we have witnessed so much folly in the recent exhibition of heroes and legislators by _infant girls_ and _boys_, whose feeble and shrill voices pronounce denunciations and elevated sentiments which are often injured by the imperfect organs even of our best tragic adults. To illustrate this assertion more forcibly, let posterity be informed, that _we enlightened inhabitants_ of London have actually listened to the ensuing speech with rapture uttered by children under fifteen years of age, and little more than four feet in height:

"_A thousand hearts are great within my bosom._ Advance our standards, set upon our foes, Our antient word of courage, fair _St. George_, Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons: Upon them, Victory sits on our helms[204:A]."

Let it also be recorded, that the season of 1806 produced a _juvenile Theatre_, which was well attended. But let us return to the Spouting-clubs, lest we pass them without _due_ notice: that indeed they received in 1759, when these excellent lines appeared in the London Chronicle, to which I can add nothing new.

"THE SPOUTING CLUB. _A Poetical Dish newly cooked up_ By RIGDUM FUNNIDOS, Esq. Professor of Bombast and Blank Verse in the University of Queerumania. _Conamur tenues grandia._

"NOW o'er the world, in sable cincture clad, Night rolls her awful clouds. Her misty veil Hangs black'ning 'fore the eye, whose visual orb In vain attempts to penetrate the gloom Condens'd; save where the cotton 'mers'd in oil Within some glassy concave yields its flame Twinkling; and save where in the servile hand Behind a rattling coach, the tædal stick Held waving glimmers on the face of things. Free from the business of the bustling day, This interval indulging, to the Club Of Spouters I repair; where mortal forms, Borne high upon the feathers of conceit, Rise into air; while puffing blasts of wind, Bursting from loosely-flying Fancy's cave, Blow them to regions where Theatra dwells. Here, o'er the summit of a chair I loll; My circumspective eyes explore the room. A groupe of staring objects strike my sight; Features distinct and various. While upon The table's oval, the resplendent cup Its pure contents and frothy surface boasts Invigorant. Virginia's plant matur'd Lies in the centre. With a clay-form'd tube Each member graces his extended hand. Above the rest, with looks erect and sage, Deputed sits the regent of the night, In elbow-chair pre-eminent. His hand The silence-knocking hammer wields. Before His optic balls are plac'd two shining plates, Betwixt whose pewter confines, interspers'd With glittering pieces of argental coin, Lie wide-spread half-pence, jingling at the touch. There great he sits, with glee magnificent, The strong potation quaffing. On the slate The num'rous pots he marks, with aspect keen. So, with superior power invested, sits A constable elate, in dome rotund, Imbibing porter solid. With an air Self-confident he scrawls the captive's name. Now moves around, with circulation quick, The tankard less'ning. Strait again receives Its due completion. Like the changing tide It ebbs and flows alternate. Curling spires Ascending paint the plaster'd canopy Fuliginous: the wafture dims the sight, And thro' the smoaky mist the candles shine Azure. But lo! a Roscian stands erect Stentorophontes. Him long time I mark'd, Saw meditation hover o'er his brow, And all his faculties absorb'd in thought. He bends his head addressive to the board, And thus harangues--"Why sit we here thus mute, "And frustrate all the purpose of our meeting? "Already has the hoarse-lung'd watchman bawl'd "Past nine o'clock." So saying, forth he stalks, With step theatric. Mark his buskin tread, And eye-balls rolling. Rang'd along the floor The candles blaze. And now the signal giv'n, All bend their eyes on him--No longer now Pauses the youth, but storms in wild Macbeth. Lo! now apparent on his horrid front Sits grim distortion. Every feature's lost, Screw'd horrible, unhumaniz'd--On stage Of quack itinerant thus have I seen An Andrew wring the muscles of his face, Deforming nature, and extort the grin And wonder of the many-headed crowd. He spoke; when strait a loud applauding noise Ensues: the clap of hands and thump of feet Commingling. Knuckles on the table's verge With fury beating, and the sound of sticks Junctive confirm the rattle of applause. Tremble the pewter vases, and within The fluid fluctuates. The surging pipes Roll from their beds of tin. The wooden plain Is strew'd on all sides with the clatt'ring ruin. Lo! now another of theatric mould "Rises in clouded majesty," yclep'd Ranter. Forth issue from his steaming mouth These long imprisoned Alps of tow'ring smoke, "Riding upon the bosom of the air." Him had his inauspicious cruel stars Destin'd to oil, to dress the flowing curl, And with nice hand to weave the yielding hair. But each revolving, rising, setting sun Beheld this hero looking on his trade With eyes indignant. His exalted soul Launch'd 'yond the limits of his narrow sphere. Fraught with extended notions of the stage, His ample-daring mind the drama's laws Sole entertain'd--The tonsor now assumes The part of Richard, and with awkward strut Affects majestic air.--So at the wake Roger begins the dance, but, wanting skill, Betrays himself unequal to the task. Thy graceful periods, so oft admir'd, Divine inspir'd Shakspeare! on his tongue Imperfect die away. His labour'd speech Sounds gutt'ral, like the hoarsely croaking race Upon the banks of some pellucid stream. Scarce had he finish'd, when salutes his ears The mingled noise upon the dusty floor Reverberated. Down the shaver sits Well-pleas'd. And next upstarts Hibernia's son, Like some enthusiast on a tripod rais'd With apish gesture, and with strange grimace, To rant unto the multitude. The cork Intruded swift into the candle's blaze Is nigrified, and marks th'aspiring youth With whiskers bold. Ferocity now darts From either eye her broad unmeaning stare; In Bajazet he raves, and low'ring bids Defiance. 'Yond just Nature's ample pow'r He rants elaborate. His roaring voice Calls echo forth respondent. On the mart Of fishy Billingsgate thus have I heard A harsh lung-cracking noise, nor yet to this Dissimilar. He ended; but the tribe Withhold the grasp'd-at banners of applause. Then down he sits, with woeful aspect dull. But strait emerging from a sea of thought, He swallows hasty the salubrious stream, And re-inthrones his abdicated soul. Bronzoides next his meteor lays down Igniferous. Him had his parents sent To London (seat of business)--there the laws Of England's state to learn and exercise. For him a well-experienced Don was found, Whose quick-turn'd eyes foresaw each quibble quaint, And quirk evasive. As an osier light, That bending yields to ev'ry blast of wind, His heart to fraud was flexible,--his heart, Where dark Deceit, in honest guise array'd, Had sown its seeds, and poison'd ev'ry grain Which, warm'd by potent Truth's congenial ray, With Virtue's plenteous harvest might have teem'd. But fruitless was the youth's parental aim, Tho' sedulous. For scarce two years had roll'd Since fair Augusta first had bless'd his eyes, When great Bronzoides first soliloquiz'd: 'Was it for this, that o'er the classic deep I sail'd, and landed on poetic shores? Have I for this flew round the Aonian mount With plumes immortal, and so often play'd With spotless Muses, in Pierian meads? Am I, ye Gods, eternally to scribe Inglorious? No--Some power uplifts my soul, Buoyant, above the common class of earth's Dull reptiles. Hence, ye wrong-adjudg'd Reports; Ye dry collections, hence. I leave ye all To those grave, solid-looking fools, whose ears Tautology best charms. Oh! Shakspeare, come With all thy pupils. Fire my glowing breast, Expand my genius, and enlarge my soul.' Kindled that instant at the raptur'd thought, His intellects, high tow'ring flew to realms Dramatic. There the storehouse of his brain He fill'd redundant. Here he tries his skill Theatric, ere upon the graceful stage With steps adventurous he dares to tread. So children dabble in the shallow stream Playful, till fear forsakes their little souls; Then bold they rush into the middle Thames. 'List, list, O list'--Oh! how his tuneful voice Rises and falls, as Oysterella's soft And strong, when ev'ry street and curving lane Adjacent echo the testaceous cry. He spouted--and receiv'd his share of praise. Inflated with the swellings of conceit, And newly flush'd with large-aspiring hopes Of excellence, uprises Leatheronzo Fam'd. In repairing worn-out calcuments None was his equal. No one better knew The pointed awl to handle. Yet his breast With rage dramatic glow'd. In mad-struck Lear The scene he opens: but for want of crown Paus'd his mock-majesty. Around the place Long time his eyes terrific roll'd. At length 'In a black corner of the room he spied' An empty urinal--Fir'd at the sight, He snatch'd the vacuum, and to his head Adapted it well pleas'd. Now, now he raves With brazen lungs, until a sudden jerk His action terminates. Upon the floor Down drops the jordan. As it rolls along It rings applause unto his list'ning ear. Lo! now springs forward with elastic step, A son of Comedy, Soccado call'd. The tunic dazzling with its golden pride, The button-hole gay-wrought with wondrous art, The mode-cut collar, and well-fancied sleeve, Had oft proclaim'd his taste. Yet not to this Was his great soul confin'd. Theatra now, Dramatic goddess, whispers in his ear, And bids him shine away in Foppington. Where's now that stately flatness of the gait? That easy stiffness where? so often seen In thee, O Cibber! and so oft admir'd, Alas! how faintly, rudely copied here! With joints inflexible, and neck oblique, An object stiff'ning to the sight he stands In attitude unmeaning, and deprives Each injur'd word of its emphatic due. He finish'd, when the wonted noise begins, Loud as his all-attentive ears can wish; Nor less than that which shakes the bending stairs To the Theatric semicircled seats, Hight upper gallery, ductive, when some Grand-habited scene-boasting pantomime, From 'hind their compters, and from cleaning knives, And from tenebrious porter-breathing cells, Where all day long in glee they tippling sat, Calls forth the terrene quick-ascending gods. Prologues and epilogues increase the sport, To periodize the humours of the night Now far advanced; goes round the jovial song, The laugh-exciting catch, or wanton tale Re-iterated. Bacchus, King of Joys, Twines not his vine-branch here. "Trueman's entire" Reigns arbitrary. With its vapours bland Their giddy-rolling heads anointed turn Upon an axis brittle. Total noise Its anarchy extends. But oh! how soon Terrestrial mirth evaporates. Amidst Their jocund glee, and lovely-floating hours, Enter the Constables. Ten watchmen brave Their presence dignify. Amazement chill Sits on each spouting face. So looks the wretch Involv'd in debt, when first he spies the front-- The front most hated of a Catch-pole grim. Not e'en Macbeth stands more appall'd with fear, When murder'd Banquo's horrid-glaring ghost Disturbs the regal banquet. Such, so great Their fear unmanly, that their passive souls To their hard fate submit. Restless all, All walk desponding to the round-house dire; And one sad exit terminates the scene. All hail to thee! thou young dramatic bard! Ingenious M-rp-y, hail! Before thy shrine I bend the knee. This epidemic rage Well hast thou ridicul'd. Oh! may thy scenes On Fame's high-pending annals be enroll'd: And as thy Muse shall henceforth deign to grace Th'enlighten'd scene, and with a steady hand To hold up Nature's mirrour, may the tribe Of snarling Critics, with invidious eyes, View the bright image, and confess it true."

The reader will of course forgive the chasms in dates which he frequently meets with, by recollecting that most of the amusements of the people of London occur in succession annually: the Theatres, the Opera, concerts, exhibitions, Ranelagh, and Vauxhall, have always had their regular stated periods of opening; and when nothing remarkable took place at either, it is by no means necessary they should be mentioned under every year. The Vauxhall season of 1759 produced some unpleasant animadversions; and the proprietors were publicly called upon to prevent the infamous conduct of loose women and their male companions, whose yells have been described as issuing from the dark walks in sounds full as terrific as "the imagined horror of Cavalcanti's bloodhounds:" indeed the latter were charged with driving ladies from their friends into those recesses where dangerous terrors were wantonly inflicted.

HANDEL'S DECEASE

Occurred on the 6th of April, 1759. As this eminent composer may justly be said to have formed a new æra of musick in England, and to have established the Opera, and the fame of his Oratorios perhaps for centuries to come; a sketch of his life from his arrival in this Island cannot be altogether unacceptable, particularly as it must contain a general history of those amusements with which he became connected. Handel was born at Hall in Upper Saxony February 24, 1684, but did not visit England till he had attained his 26th year, and when perfect master of his profession. The stranger, though only upon leave of absence from the Court of Hanover, where he received a pension of 1500 crowns _per annum_, and held the place of Master of the Elector's chapel, was presented to Queen Anne, and favourably received; thus honoured, Handel soon enjoyed the patronage of her courtiers, and immediately commenced his career by correcting the errors of the _Italian_ Opera, if that could be so called which had been translated into the _English_ language. As this celebrated composer found it, the most pathetic parts of the Italian musick frequently fell upon words expressive of anger, and _vice versâ_; he therefore composed Rossi's Rinaldo, written after an outline by Aaron Hill, who favoured the publick with an English version of it.

When Handel had remained here one year, the full term of his leave of absence, he returned to Hanover, but promised to re-visit the Queen at the first convenient opportunity: that occurred in 1712, and he composed his _Te Deum_ and _Jubilate_ after the signing of the peace of Utrecht. Queen Anne, highly gratified with his exertions, granted him a pension of 200_l._ for life, and added her commands to the solicitations of the Nobility, that he should assume the management of the Opera-house. This he complied with, and violated in consequence an engagement he was under to return to the Elector's Court. When that Prince ascended the British throne, Handel, conscious of his offence, dared not venture into his presence; and his friends even thought stratagem preferable to intercession in restoring him to favour. To accomplish this, Baron Kilmanseck and several of the English nobility engaged the King in a party of pleasure upon the Thames: at that hour of relaxation the King was surprized with those grand movements yet known as Handel's Water-piece, which were composed expressly for the occasion, and performed under his direction in a boat attendant on the Monarch. The scheme was successful beyond expectation; and from that hour the fortunate musician received both honours and rewards from George I. The Earl of Burlington and the Duke of Chandos were his warmest patrons and admirers: the latter indeed retained him at Canons as master of his splendid choral establishment for the offices of religion; and as Buononcini and Attilio were then composers for the Opera, he did not frequently interfere with their province.

At length the period arrived destined to rouse the powers of Handel as a composer and a tyrant. Several persons of distinction had determined to found an Academy of Musick in the Haymarket, in order to insure a constant supply of Operas from the pen of the unrivalled Saxon, which they intended should be performed under his direction. The subscription for this purpose amounted to 50,000_l._; and they procured the King's name for 1000_l._ to grace the head of the list. Thus authorised and enabled, Handel went to Dresden for performers of celebrity, and engaged Senesino and Duristanti, with whom he returned to England, when they acted his Opera of Radamisto to a most crowded audience, which honoured him with the loudest plaudits. From that day the powerful partizans of Buononcini, and those of Handel, became irreconcileable enemies; though their enmity was so far controuled as to permit an agreement between them, that the rival masters should alternately compose the acts of Mutius Scævola, and thus afford a criterion by which their superiority was to be determined. Handel conquered; and, his reputation firmly established, he reigned sole monarch of the Academy for nine years. At the close of that period Senesino accused Handel of oppression, and Handel treated Senesino as a rebel against his authority; the publick immediately divided on this important question; and, to complete their vexation, Faustina and Cuzzoni quarrelled. Harmony ceased in every point of view, and the Academy was dissolved; but Handel maintained his post at the Haymarket, where he soon discovered that with Senesino he had dismissed the majority of his audiences. In this dilemma he entered into an agreement with the celebrated Heidegger to perform Operas on their own account; they accordingly engaged several new performers; but the Nobility, exasperated at the Saxon's tyrannical conduct, entered into a subscription, with which they opened the Theatre in Lincoln's-inn-fields, countermatching his Italians with the incomparable Farinelli. The contest was continued three years in conjunction with Heidegger; and Handel persisted one year after his partner retired: he then left the Haymarket to his rivals.

Chagrined and disappointed, he endeavoured to establish himself at Lincoln's-inn-fields, and afterwards became a partner with Mr. Rich at Covent-garden Theatre, where he found, to his great mortification, that his musick, however sublime, was not a match for Farinelli's voice; yet he persisted till he had almost ruined his fortune, and actually deranged his faculties, besides causing a paralytic stroke, which deprived him of the use of his right arm: he was however recovered from the latter calamities by using the baths of Aix-la-chapelle about the year 1736.