Part 6
The following is a list of parts acted by Mr. Burton, and though probably there are many omissions, it fully justifies Ireland's observation that his repertory was extended almost indefinitely, and "carried into a range, where, if he was sometimes excelled by Placide and Blake, his rivalry was such as to demand every effort on their part to retain their generally acknowledged superiority." It may be mentioned that the parts of _Aminadab Sleek_ and _Timothy Toodle_ were acted by Burton respectively six hundred and six hundred and forty times.
LIST OF CHARACTERS PERFORMED BY MR. BURTON.
CHARACTERS. PLAYS.
HOST, } FALSTAFF,} in "The Merry Wives of Windsor." DROMIO, in "The Comedy of Errors." DR. OLLAPOD, } SIR ROBERT BRAMBLE,} in "The Poor Gentleman." MUNNS, in "Forty Winks." JOB THORNBERRY, in "John Bull." LAUNCELOT GOBBO, in "The Merchant of Venice." HARROP, in "The Innkeeper's Daughter." BOTTOM, in "A Midsummer Night's Dream." CALIBAN, in "The Tempest." SIR TOBY BELCH, in "Twelfth Night." CAPT. CUTTLE, in "Dombey and Son." TIMOTHY TOODLE, in "The Toodles." AMINADAB SLEEK, in "The Serious Family." VAN DUNDER, in "The Dutch Governor." TRIPLET, in "Masks and Faces." BOB ACRES, in "The Rivals." DR. PANGLOSS,} LORD DUBERLY,} in "The Heir-at-Law." BILLY LACKADAY, in "Sweethearts and Wives." PILLICODDY, in "Poor Pillicoddy." TOBY TRAMP, in "The Mummy." TONY LUMPKIN, in "She Stoops to Conquer." CHAS. GOLDFINCH, in "The Road to Ruin." JACQUES STROP, in "Robert Macaire." SEPTIMUS PODDLE, in "Take That Girl Away." JEM BAGGS, in "The Wandering Minstrel." SLASHER, in "Slasher and Crasher." JOHN UNIT, in "Self." GREGORY THIMBERWELL, in "State Secrets." BONNYCASTLE, in "The Two Bonnycastles." JEREMIAH CLIP, in "The Widow's Victim." DIMPLE, in "Leap Year." MEGRIM, in "Blue Devils." FELIX FUMER, in "The Laughing Hyena." LA FLEUR, in "Animal Magnetism." TOM RIPSTONE, in "Evil Genius." TOM NODDY, in "Tom Noddy's Secret." SNOBBINGTON, in "A Good Night's Rest." PETTIBONE, in "A Kiss in the Dark." PAUL PRY, in "Paul Pry." JOE BAGS, in "Wanted 1000 Milliners." SIR OLIVER SURFACE,} SIR PETER TEAZLE, } in "The School for Scandal." MEDDLE, in "London Assurance." THOMAS TROT, in "Paris and London." WORMWOOD, in "The Lottery Ticket." WADDILOVE, in "To Parents and Guardians." SQUEERS, in "Nicholas Nickleby." MICAWBER, in "David Copperfield." JOHN MILDMAY, in "Still Waters Run Deep." SUDDEN, in "The Breach of Promise." CALEB QUOTEM, in "The Review." PEDRO, in "Cinderella." SCHNAPPS, in "The Naiad Queen." MR. BUMBLE, in "Oliver Twist." PETER SPYK, in "The Loan of a Lover." MOCK DUKE, in "The Honeymoon." SIR WM. FONDLOVE, in "The Love Chase." CODDLE,} DOVE, } in "Married Life." DOMINIE SAMPSON, in "Guy Mannering." PETER, in "The Stranger." MR. GILMAN, in "Happiest Day of My Life." GRAVES, in "Money." DUKE'S SERVANT, in "High Life Below Stairs." SAM WELLER, in "Pickwick." DON WHISKERANDOS, in "The Critic." SIMPSON, in "Simpson & Co." TOUCHSTONE, in "As You Like It." TOM TAPE, in "Sketches in India." TONY BAVARD, in "The French Spy." SCRUB, in "Now-a-Days." BROWN, in "Kill or Cure." FLUID, in "The Water Party." NICHOLAS RUE, in "Secrets Worth Knowing." MR. FLARE, in "Such As It Is." FREDERICK STORK, in "The Prince's Frolic." MR. TWEEDLE, in "The Broken Heart." GALOCHARD, in "The King's Gardener." SNOWBALL, in "The Catspaw." WAGGLES, in "Friend Waggles." EUCLID FACILE, in "Twice Killed." JENKINS, in "Gretna Green." BULLFROG, in "The Rent Day." BOX, in "Box and Cox." MRS. MACBETH, in "Macbeth Travestie." CHRISTOPHER STRAP, in "Pleasant Neighbors." OLD RAPID, in "A Cure For the Heartache." COL. DAMAS, in "The Lady of Lyons." VERGES, } DOGBERRY,} in "Much Ado About Nothing." JOHN SMITH, in "Nature's Nobleman." EPHRAIM JENKINSON, in "The Vicar of Wakefield." MICHAEL, in "Love in Humble Life." TETTERBY, in "The Haunted Man." MR. MENNY, in "Socialism." PIERRE DE LA ROCHE, in "The Midnight Watch." SPHINX, in "The Sphinx." TOM BOBOLINK, in "Temptation." PICADILLY, in "Burton's New York Directory." JUSTICE WOODCOCK, in "Love in a Village." BILL, in "Peep From the Parlor Windows." HARESFOOT, in "Life Among the Players." NOGGS, in "The Mormons." MARC ANTONY BAROWN, in "A Great Tragic Revival." SIGNOR TOPAZ, in "Fascination." VANDAM, in "Wall Street." COL. ROCKET, in "Old Heads and Young Hearts." VON FIEZENSPAN, in "The Slave Actress." JONAS BLOT, in "The Poor Scholar." EPAMINONDAS, in "Genevieve." ANTHONY GAB, in "The Witch Wife." BONUS, in "Laugh When You Can." WILLIAM RUFUS, in "Helping Hands." COL. GOLDIE, in "'Tis Ill Playing with Edged Tools." BERRYMAN, in "False Pretences." DICK, in "Ellen Wareham." SUCKLING, in "Education." SPATTERDASH, in "The Young Quaker." BOB CLOVER, in "Married an Actress." OLD REVEL, in "School for Grown Children." GILES GRIZZLE, in "Stag Hall." BALTHAZAR, in "Player's Plot." WILLIAM LINK, in "The Fox-Hunt." BLANQUET, in "The Lancers." BRAINWORM, in "Every Man in His Humor." MANUEL COGGS, in "Married by Force." RATTAN, in "The Beehive." GREGORY GRIZZLE, in "My Wife and Umbrella." DELPH, in "Family Jars." TEWBERRY, in "A Heart of Gold." JUPITER, in "Apollo in New York." COUNT VENTOSO, in "Pride Must Have a Fall." DR. LACQUER, in "Our Set." DE BONHOMME, in "A Nice Young Man." SIR HIPPINGTON MIFF, in "Comfortable Lodgings." MAXIMUS HOGSFLESH, in "Barbers at Court." FRIGHT, in "Crimson Crimes." INFANTE FURIBOND, in "Invisible Prince." MR. GREENFINCH, in "Duel in the Dark." TIMOTHY QUAINT, in "Soldier's Daughter." SIR SIMON SLACK, in "Spring and Autumn." PEEPING TOM, in "All at Coventry." TRISTAM SAPPY, in "Deaf as a Post." CODGER, in "You're Another." TACTIC, in "My Fellow Clerk." TONY NETTLETOP, in "Love in a Maze." TOBIAS SHORTCUT, in "The Spitfire." BOB TICKET, in "An Alarming Sacrifice." JEREMY DIDDLER, in "Raising the Wind." JACK HUMPHREYS, in "Turning the Tables." MAW-WORM, in "The Hypocrite." DAFFODIL TWOD, in "The Ladies' Man." GOLIGHTLY, in "Lend Me Five Shillings." CHRISTOPHER CROOKPATH, in "Upper Ten and Lower Twenty." GHOST, in "Hamlet Travestie." DIGGORY, in "The Spectre Bridegroom." BENJAMIN BUZZARD, in "The Two Buzzards." MARMADUKE MOUSER, in "Betsey Baker." CRACK, in "The Turnpike Gate." BILLY BLACK, in "100-Pound Note." CAPT. COPP, in "Charles the Second." MARALL, in "New Way to Pay Old Debts." TOBIAS SHORTCUT, in "The Cockney." PETER POPPLES, in "Man of Many Friends." ADAM BROCK, in "Charles the Twelfth." RICHARD PRIDE, in "Janet Pride." POLONIUS, } FIRST GRAVE-DIGGER, } in "Hamlet." FIRST WITCH, in "Macbeth." SIR GEORGE THUNDER, in "Wild Oats." GUY GOODLUCK, in "John Jones." MARPLOT, in "The Busybody." JOE SEDLEY, in "Vanity Fair." GIL, in "Giralda." QUEEN BEE, in "St. Cupid." DABCHICK, in "How to Make Home Happy." SHADOWLY SOFTHEAD, in "Not So Bad As We Seem." SMYTH, in "Mind Your Own Business." SIR TIMOTHY STILTON, in "Patrician and Parvenu." CARDINAL MAZARIN, in "Youthful Days of Louis XIV." TWINKS, in "Mrs. Bunbury's Spoons."
RECOLLECTIONS OF MR. BURTON'S PERFORMANCES
"_And now what rests but that we spend the time With stately triumphs, mirthful comic shows._" --SHAKESPEARE.
RECOLLECTIONS.
When Burton opened in Chambers Street, he was forty-four years old, in the prime of life, his powers mature and approaching culmination. Let us endeavor to give a portrait of the comedian as he appeared at this time. Above the medium height; rotund in form, yet not cumbersome; limbs well proportioned; deep-chested, with harmonious breadth of shoulder; neck short and robust; large and well-balanced head; the hair worn short behind, longer in front, and brushed smartly toward the temples; face clean-shaven; complexion bordering on the florid; full chin and cheeks; eyes seemingly blue or gray, beneath brows not over heavy, and capable of every conceivable expression; nose straight, and somewhat sharply inclined; mouth large, the lips thin, and wearing in repose a smile half playful, half trenchant. Such is the picture memory draws, the likeness in some degree confirmed by engravings in our possession. Outlined thus, and in his proper person, he seemed in general aspect to blend the suave respectability of a bank president with the easy-going air of an English country squire. We shall have occasion to refer in due course to the marvellous changes that were possible to that face and form, when the man became the actor and walked the stage with Momus, with Dickens, and with Shakespeare. Prominent among his physical attributes was a clear, strong voice, capable of a great variety of intonations, and his delivery was such that no words of his were ever lost in any part of the house.
Before entering the wide field of our memories, we wish to offer some observations respecting the comedian's mental equipment, and to consider briefly the features of his unrivalled powers. We have no doubt but that the classical education of his youth had much to do with his early preference for the tragic muse. His mind, imbued with admiration for classic form and color, was fed with divine images, which, while replete with grace and beauty, bore still the impress of Greek austerity. He inclined naturally, therefore, toward the conception of that which was the predominating influence in his mental training. At the same time, after eschewing his predilections for tragedy, he found that the classic discipline had created a receptivity of mind in the highest degree important to his future study; and that quickened apprehension proved of inestimable value in his subsequent introduction to Shakespeare, the old dramatists, and in all his intellectual excursions.
Yielding to him, then, this vantage-ground of culture, let us glance at the attributes of his genius, which entitle him, as we think, to the claim made for him--namely, one of the greatest actors in his line the stage has known. We need not specify that line further than to say that it passes with the title of "low comedy"; but Burton's versatility was so extraordinary, his repertory so extended, his conceptions so forcible, that the theatric nomenclature seems insufficient to define and measure the scope and range of his abilities. His impersonations, especially those Shakespearian, were often of too high an order to be classed under the accepted notion of low comedy. Let us style him an expounder and representative of the Humor of the Drama in all its aspects, and we shall come nearer to what he really was. For an all-embracing perception of humor revealed itself perpetually in his acting. As the imagination of Longfellow transformed to organ pipes the musketry of the Springfield Arsenal, so would Burton change dull inanities into vital and joyous images. This informing power, this native faculty of rising superior to the part assumed, and investing it with undreamed-of humorous interest, was an instinct of his genius, and gave to all his embodiments an originality and a flavor peculiarly his own. The character mattered not. It might be _Nick Bottom_ or _Paul Pry_, _Cuttle_ or _Micawber_, _Doctor Ollapod_ or _Charles Goldfinch_, _Sleek_ or _Toodle_. There was the complete identification, the superlative realization of the author's meaning; but the felicitous interpretation, the by-play, the way of saying a thing, the facial expression--his own and no other man's,--the Burtonian touch and treatment. In the extravagance of farcical abandon no one ever was funny as he. In comic portraits like _Toby Tramp_ or _Jem Baggs_, he absolutely exhaled mirth; and we cannot help thinking how perfectly Hazlitt describes him in writing of Liston: "His farce is not caricature; his drollery oozes out of his features, and trickles down his face; his voice is a pitch-pipe for laughter." "We have seen Burton," says Wemyss, "keep an audience in roars of inextinguishable laughter, for minutes in succession, while an expression of ludicrous bewilderment, of blank confusion, or pompous inflation, settled upon his countenance." And this was penned by Wemyss at a time when _Cuttle_, _Micawber_, _Sleek_, and _Toodle_ were yet to be.
In thus indicating Burton's natural gifts, we must not lose sight of the study and knowledge necessary to their development and to the achievement of his fame. Let it not be supposed that his famous delineations were so many intuitions, easily shaped and clothed by him into substantial dramatic form. Easy, indeed, they might appear in the handling--for it was characteristic of the great comedian never to seem to entirely expend himself,--he always suggested a reserved force;--but this facile rendering was attained at the expense of as much intellectual attrition as Moore declared the melodious numbers of his verse often cost him.
The late Dr. John W. Francis relates a conversation with the famous George Frederick Cooke, respecting the actor's impersonation of _Sir Pertinax Macsycophant_, and in reply to the question, how he acquired so profound a knowledge of the Scotch accentuation, Cooke said: "I studied more than two and a half years in my own room, with repeated intercourse with Scotch society, in order to master the Scottish dialect, before I ventured to appear on the boards in Edinburgh, as _Sir Pertinax_, and when I did, Sawney took me for a native. It was the hardest task I ever undertook." How do we know how many years of thoughtful application the comedian's masterpieces expressed?
Mr. Burton was a student and man of the world as well as actor, and the supremacy of his performances was due to his close and comprehensive study of his author, his acquaintance with dramatic composition, his artistic sense, his thorough knowledge of the stage, his varied experience, his human insight,--the rest, like Dogberry's reading and writing, came by nature.
It is a habit with old play-goers, when over their cakes and ale, to recall the "palmy days" of the drama, and to say: "Ah, you should have seen ----; he was a great artist--none equal to him nowadays. Ah, the stage has declined since the old time." We do not wholly believe in the drama's decadence, but as we enter upon our Recollections we feel that _there_ were our palmy days, and the years seem long between. Twenty-four have passed since the comedian died, and there has been no sign of a successor to the mask and mantle. And it may be twice--nay, thrice twenty before the actor shall arise who will compel us to recall the triumphs of Burton for the sake of comparison.
MR. BURTON IN FARCE.
A man like Mr. Burton, endowed with keen humorous perception and the mimetic faculty, competent to express easily and with unction every phase of mirthful extravagance suggested by fancy and flow of spirit, must occasionally yield to the imperious demands of his nature, and, perforce, when so pressed, he opens the safety-valve of play and gives escape to his excess of humor.
In this connection, we are reminded of Sydney Smith, as an example of humorous irrepressibility. Restraint seldom fettered the expression of the witty suggestions of his fancy. It was as natural in him to be gay and mirthful as it was to breathe. His humor welled from a perpetual spring. It was like the profanity of the Scotchman who didn't swear at any thing particular, but just stood in the middle of the road and "swore at large." There is a story that the divine, arriving first at a gathering of notables, was ushered into the drawing-room, which was hung with mirrors on all sides. Seeing himself reflected at all points, he looked around and observed: "Ah, a very respectable collection of clergymen!" Now his only auditor was the servant; but the thought came and was at once expressed. Of course, Sydney Smith could be serious when he wished, as all know who are familiar with his life and works; but he had his play-ground at Holland House and in kindred coteries, where his buoyant spirit worked its own sweet will. When the clergyman of lugubrious aspect called upon poor Tom Hood, the story goes that the humorist could not help remarking: "My dear Sir, I'm afraid your religion doesn't agree with you!"--and we are quite willing to believe the story to be one of "Hood's Own," for it has all the flavor of the author who gave us "Laughter from Year to Year." Instances might be multiplied of this humorous self-abandonment; but we are growing digressive. The train of reflection, however, leads us to the belief that Burton's merry-making powers needed occasionally an avenue of escape; and the safety-valve, in his case, was often found in the farces his acting made so popular--those exhibitions of fun and drollery in which, through the lens of memory, we now intend to view him.
The farce, by the way, is a thing of the past. It may almost be said that as a form of the acting drama, at least in America, it has been passed to the limbo of disuse. Rarely, if ever, do our programmes nowadays bear the old, familiar formula: "To conclude with the laughable Farce of ----." We are no longer invited to laugh at the droll situations and funny dialogues contained in the many pieces of Buckstone, Mathews, and Morton; yet all will admit their efficacy to beguile a lagging hour, and to smooth away the obtrusive wrinkle from the proverbial brow of care. Such, certainly, was the power they exerted in other days; and perhaps it is to be lamented that the frolic atmosphere diffused by those comic productions is ours no more to make merry and revel in. "Custom exacts, and who denies her sway?" remarks Colman, the younger; and for many years the design of our managers, in catering for the public, has comprehended the representation of one play only for the performance of an evening; setting it elaborately, bestowing upon it a wealth of scenic embellishment, and presenting it generally with a due regard to strength and fitness of cast. Many of the standard comedies have been thus illustrated--notably "The School for Scandal" and "She Stoops to Conquer"; the comedies of Robertson--"Home," "Caste," "School," "Ours,"--have been so rendered at Wallack's, and at the same theatre that play of charming improbabilities, "Rosedale," has enjoyed a periodic return. "Led Astray," acted so long at the Union Square Theatre; Mr. Daly's many successful adaptations, and the Irish dramas of Mr. Boucicault; "The Two Orphans"; "The Banker's Daughter"; "Hazel Kirke";--all these, and more, are like examples. Mr. Jefferson's "Rip Van Winkle" suffices for an evening; so also does Mr. Raymond's _Col. Sellers_, and so also did Mr. Sothern's _Dundreary_. This new departure may be a very good departure, for it gives us perfection in the details of scenery and costume, and concentrates the managerial resources in one splendid whole; and we may add, that a theatrical system is to be commended when it permits the audience to get comfortably home and to bed before midnight. But, all the same, if Burton were living and acting, the farce would hold its own; and every auditor would remain to the fall of the curtain, for the last glimpse of that face, the last word and action of that comedian who held such sway over the risibilities of mankind.
If among our readers there should be any old play-goers, they cannot fail to remember how often they dropped in for an hour's hilarity with "The Wandering Minstrel," or "Poor Pillicoddy." For, as previously stated, it was a circumstance by no means unusual to see fresh arrivals lining the walls of the theatre, drawn thither by the potent magnet of Burton in the farce. It was a matter of almost as much consequence to know what afterpiece was on the bill as what comedy. Often, indeed, the effect produced by Burton in some exceptionally droll part had become so widely known, that to see him in it was the prime object of a visit to the theatre; and if to the question--"What does Burton play to-night?" the answer named _Toby Tramp_, _Madame Vanderpants_, or the like, it was enough: "Let us go!" was the eager exclamation.
What a piece of fun was _Toby Tramp_, in "The Mummy"! How many who are living now will laugh as they recall the appearance of Burton in that close-fitting garment, covered with hieroglyphics! The plot is simple and easily told. _Toby_ is an itinerant player, needy and shabby, out at elbow and out of money; and agrees for a cash consideration to personate a mummy, already sold and promised to an old antiquarian. As we think of the scene in which the bargain is concluded we remember how full of stage strut and quotation Burton was, and how he embraced the opportunity to present a specimen of _Toby's_ histrionic quality, selecting the familiar soliloquy of _Richard_, and giving it as he (_Toby_) declared Shakespeare ought always to be interpreted. He commenced:
"Now is the winter of our discontent"--
and with the words turned up his coat-collar, blew his fingers, shivered, and was frozen generally. Continuing then:
"Made glorious summer by this sun of York"--
he instantly thawed, threw open his coat, puffed, and from his brow wiped the perspiration. And so he went through the whole. At the words "Grim-visag'd war," a gloomy and malignant frown darkened his features, which changed, as he pronounced "hath smooth'd his wrinkled front," to a bland expression of peace;--and the climax was reached when at the lines:
"He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber, To the lascivious pleasing of a lute"--
he executed a fantastic dance, thrumming the while an imaginary guitar.