[CHAPTER VII]

Garrick's Funeral from the Adelphi—Johnson's Opinion of Garrick: "A Liberal Man"—His Death "Eclipsed the Gaiety of Nations"—Topham Beauclerk and Johnson—Mrs Garrick's famous Dinner Party—Johnson and other Celebrities Present—Described by Hannah More and Boswell—Johnson's Morning Visit to Adelphi Terrace—Hannah More's Life Here—Another Dinner Party—Death of Mrs Garrick—Shakespeare's Gloves sent to Mrs Siddons from the Adelphi—Goldsmith writes from a Sponging-House to Garrick in the Adelphi—Becket, the Bookseller.

The funeral procession which wended its way from the Adelphi Terrace, through Adam Street to the Strand and thence by way of Whitehall to Westminster Abbey, on that winter's morning in February, 1779, was a lengthy and imposing one, though nowadays we should consider such pomp and circumstance very lugubrious. First of all, came four porters on horseback, their staffs, or wands of office, covered with black silk and scarves. Then came six other men, with mourning cloaks, followed by another official bearing a heavily-draped pennon. Then came other six men carrying a surcoat of arms, a helmet with crest, wreath, and mantlet. A state lid of black ostrich feathers, surrounded by escutcheons, immediately preceded the hearse, which was 'full-dressed'—that is to say, it bore at each corner and on the sides waving black ostrich plumes. A state coach, empty, and with a page on each side, was followed by a mourning coach containing the clergy from St Martin's-in-the-Fields. Then came six more mourning coaches "with the pall-bearers, two in each coach, six pages on each side. A ditto, with the chief mourners, a page on each side. A ditto, with three family ditto. A ditto, with three physicians. A ditto, with surgeon and apothecaries, a page on each side. A ditto, with Messrs Sheridan and Harris, a page on each side. Three ditto, with a deputation of twelve gentlemen, performers from Drury-Lane theatre, three pages on each side. Two men in mourning, on horseback, with cloaks, etc. Three ditto, with a deputation of twelve gentlemen, performers from Covent-garden theatre, three pages on each side. Two men in mourning, on horseback, with cloaks, etc. Four mourning coaches, with the members of the literary club, four pages on each side. Two men in mourning, on horseback, with cloaks. Seven coaches with intimate friends of the deceased, seven pages on each side. Mr Garrick's coach, empty. All the gentlemen's family coaches, empty."[37] The body was received at the great west door of the Abbey, about three o'clock, by the Bishop of Rochester, Dean of Westminster, who, attended by the clergy and choir, preceded the corpse up the centre aisle, during which time Purcell's funeral music was played and sung.[38]

Among those who followed the mournful procession from the Adelphi were Lord Camden, the Lord Chancellor; the Earl of Ossory; the Duke of Devonshire; Earl Spencer; the Right Hon. Richard Rigby, and Viscount Palmerston, who, with others, were the pall-bearers. The mourning coaches also contained Dr Johnson; George Colman, the elder, the dramatist; John Dunning, afterwards Baron Ashburton, whose Inquiry into the Doctrines lately promulgated concerning Juries, Libels, etc., was pronounced by Horace Walpole "the finest piece ... written for liberty since Lord Somers"; Edmund Burke; Colonel Isaac Barré, the Irish soldier and politician; the Hon. Charles Fox; Lord Charles Spencer; the deputy usher of the black rod; and many other distinguished men. The committee from Drury Lane consisted of Richard Yates, Tom King, Vernon, William Parsons, James Dodd—an actor who, according to Charles Lamb, "was a man of reading, and left at his death a choice collection of old English literature"—Aickin, John Palmer—an incomparable Joseph Surface—W. Bensley—the great Malvolio of his day—William Brereton, John Moody, and Robert Baddeley. From Covent Garden, there came "Gentleman" Lewis, Lee Lewes, John Quick—George III.'s favourite comedian—and some nine other players of good repute. It was said at the time that a greater concourse of people attended than was ever known on a similar occasion.

Johnson, as all students of the stage are aware, had a sincere admiration for Garrick, a fact that is proved by several references in the pages of Boswell. A few months before the death of the player, Johnson and Boswell dined with William Scott, in his chambers in the Temple. The conversation turned upon fame, and Boswell "slily introduced" the name of David Garrick, "and his assuming the airs of a great man. Johnson: 'Sir, it is wonderful how little Garrick assumes. No, Sir, Garrick fortunam reverenter habet. Consider, Sir,—celebrated men such as you have mentioned have had their applause at a distance; but Garrick had it dashed in his face, sounded in his ears, and went home every night with the plaudits of a thousand in his cranium. Then, Sir, Garrick did not find, but made his way to the tables, the levees, and almost the bedchambers of the great. Then, Sir, Garrick had under him a numerous body of people; who, from fears of his power and hopes of his favour, and admiration of his talents, were constantly submissive to him. And here is a man who has advanced the dignity of his profession. Garrick has made a player a higher character.' Scott: 'And he is a very sprightly writer too.' Johnson: 'Yes, Sir; and all this supported by great wealth of his own acquisition. If all this had happened to me, I should have had a couple of fellows with long poles walking before me, to knock down everybody that stood in the way. Consider, if all this had happened to Cibber or to Quin, they'd have jumped over the moon. Yet Garrick speaks to us' (smiling). Boswell: 'And Garrick is a very good man, a charitable man.' Johnson: 'Sir, a liberal man. He has given away more money than any man in England. There may be a little vanity mixed; but he has shown that money is not his first object.' Boswell: 'Yet Foote used to say of him, that he walked out with the intention to do a generous action, but turning the corner of a street, he met the ghost of a halfpenny, which frightened him.' Johnson: 'Why, Sir, that is very true, too; for I never knew a man of whom it could be said with less certainty to-day what he will do to-morrow, than Garrick; it depends so much on his humour at the time.' Scott: 'I am glad to hear of his liberality. He has been represented as very saving.' Johnson: 'With his domestic saving we have nothing to do. I remember drinking tea with him long ago, when Peg Woffington made it, and he grumbled at her for making it too strong. He had begun to feel money in his purse, and did not know when he should have enough of it!'"

Shortly after Garrick's death, Johnson accorded the actor praise that was even greater. The occasion was a dinner party, on April 24, 1779, at Topham Beauclerk's, at which Sir Joshua Reynolds, as well as Johnson and Boswell, was present. Boswell mentioned that John Wilkes had spoken of Garrick as a man who had no friend, a contention which Johnson allowed to be right. "'He had friends, but no friend,' he said. 'Garrick was so diffused, he had no man to whom he wished to unbosom himself. He found people always ready to applaud him, and that always for the same thing; so he saw life with great uniformity.'" Whereupon, Boswell, taking upon himself "for once, to fight with Goliath's weapons, and play the sophist," said: "'Garrick did not need a friend, as he got from everybody all that he wanted. What is a friend? One who supports and comforts you, while others do not. Friendship, you know, Sir, is the cordial drop "to make the nauseous draught of life go down"; but if the draught be not nauseous, if it be all sweet, there is no occasion for that drop.' Johnson: 'Many men would not be content to live so. I hope I should not. They would wish to have an intimate friend, with whom they might compare minds and cherish private virtues.'" One of the company mentioned Lord Chesterfield as a man who had no friend. "Johnson: 'There were more materials to make friendship in Garrick, had he not been so diffused.' Boswell: 'Garrick was pure gold, but beat out to thin leaf. Lord Chesterfield was tinsel.' Johnson: 'Garrick was a very good man, the most cheerful man of his age; a decent liver in a profession which is supposed to give indulgence to licentiousness; and a man who gave away, freely, money acquired by himself. He began the world with a great hunger for money; the son of a half-pay officer, bred in a family whose study was to make fourpence do as much as others made fourpence halfpenny do. But when he had got money he was very liberal.' I presumed to animadvert on his eulogy on Garrick, in his Lives of the Poets. 'You say, Sir, his death eclipsed the gaiety of nations.' Johnson: 'I could not have said more or less. It is the truth: eclipsed, not extinguished; and his death did eclipse; it was like a storm.' Boswell: 'But why nations? Did his gaiety extend farther than his own nation?' Johnson: 'Why, sir, some exaggeration must be allowed. Besides, nations may be said—if we allow the Scotch to be a nation—to have gaiety—which they have not. You are an exception, though. Come, gentlemen, let us candidly admit that there is one Scotchman who is cheerful.' Beauclerk: 'But he is a very unnatural Scotchman.' I, however, continued to think the compliment to Garrick hyperbolically untrue. His acting had ceased some time before his death; at any rate he had acted in Ireland but a short time, at an early period of his life, and never in Scotland. I objected also to what appears an anti-climax of praise, when contrasted with the preceding panegyric, 'and diminished the public stock of harmless pleasure!' 'Is not harmless pleasure very tame?' Johnson: 'Nay, Sir, harmless pleasure is the highest praise. Pleasure is a word of dubious import; pleasure is, in general, dangerous, and pernicious to virtue; to be able, therefore, to furnish pleasure that is harmless, pleasure pure and unalloyed, is as great a power as man can possess.'"

YORK STAIRS AND WATER WORKS.