POPE AND DR. GARTH.
[CHAPTER XV.]
UNION, STRENGTH, PROSPERITY.
Naturally and justifiably jubilant is Colley Cibber when giving the history of the united companies. That union led to a prosperity of twenty years, though the union itself did not last so long. We now find houses crowded beyond anything known to that generation; and that not so much from surpassing excellence on the part of the actors, as from their zeal, industry, and the willingness with which they worked together. This success doubled the salaries of the comedians, and "in the twenty years, while we were our own directors," says Colley, with honest pride, "we never had a creditor that had occasion to come twice for his bill; every Monday morning discharged us of all demands, before we took a shilling for our own use."
These halcyon days had, no doubt, their little passing clouds; some prejudices and jealousies would arise among the leaders, as excellence began to manifest itself from below; but these, as Cibber remarks, with a lofty philosophy, were "frailties, which societies of a higher consideration, while they are composed of men, will never be entirely free from." Cibber and his fellows deserved to prosper. Although they enjoyed a monopoly they did not abuse it; and £1500 profit to each of the three managers, in one year, the greatest sum ever yet so realised on the English stage, showed what might be done, without the aid of "those barbarous entertainments," of acrobats and similar personages, for which the dignified Cibber had the most profound and wholesome horror.
While the management was in the hands of Cibber, Wilks, and Dogget, the good temper of the first was imperturbable. He yielded, or seemed to yield, to the hot hastiness of Wilks, and lent himself to the captious waywardness of Dogget. However impracticable the latter was, Cibber always left a way open to reconciliation. In the very bitterest of their feuds, "I never failed to give him my hat and 'your servant,' whenever I met him, neither of which he would ever return for above a year after; but I still persisted in my usual salutation, without observing whether it was civilly received or not." Dogget would sit sullen and silent, at the same table with Cibber, at Will's—the young gentlemen of the town loitering about the room, to listen to the critics, or look at the actors—and Cibber would treat the old player with deference, till the latter was graciously pleased to be softened, and ask for a pinch from Colley's box, in token of reconciliation.
Almost the only word approaching to complaint advanced by Cibber refers to public criticism. The newspapers, and especially Mist's Journal, he says, "took upon them very often to censure our management, with the same freedom and severity as if we had been so many ministers of state." This is thoroughly Cibberian in humour and expression. For these critics, however, Colley had a supreme contempt. Wilks and Booth, who succeeded Dogget, were more sensitive, and would fain have made reply; but Cibber remarked that the noise made by the critics was a sign of the ability and success of the management. If we were insignificant, said he, and played only to empty houses, these fellows would be silent.
When the fashion of patronising the folly of pantomimes came in, Cibber reluctantly produced one at Drury Lane, but only "as crutches to the plays." In the regular drama itself, it seemed immaterial to him what he acted, so that the piece was well supported; and accordingly when the "Orphan" was revived, and the town had just been falsely told that Cibber was dead, "I quietly stole myself," he says, "into the part of the Chaplain, which I had not been seen in for many years before;" and as the audience received him with delight, Colley was satisfied and triumphant.