Another celebrity connected with Gawsworth, though of a widely different character to Henry Newcome, deserves a passing notice—Samuel Johnson, popularly known by the title of “Lord Flame,” and sometimes by the less euphonious sobriquet of “Maggotty Johnson.” This eccentric character was well known in his day as a dancing master, to which he added the professions of poet, player, jester, and musician. He appears to have been among the last of the paid English jesters, those professional Merry Andrews whose presence was considered indispensable in the homes of our wealthier forefathers—their duty being to promote laughter in the household, and especially at meals, by their ready wit and drollery. Johnson was frequently hired out at parties given by the gentry in the northern counties, where he had licence to bandy his witticisms, and to utter or enact anything likely to enliven the company or provoke them to laughter. “Lord Flame” was the name of a character played by him in his own extravaganza, entitled “Hurlothrumbo, or the Supernatural,” a piece which had a lengthened run at the Haymarket in 1729. It is upon this burlesque that his fame chiefly rests. After much patient labour he succeeded in getting it on the London boards. Byrom records the circumstance in his “Journal” under date April 2, 1729:—
As for Mr. Johnson, he is one of the chief topics of talk in London. Dick’s Coffee-house resounds “Hurlothrumbo” from one end to the other. He had a full house and much good company on Saturday night, the first time of acting, and report says all the boxes are taken for the next Monday.... It is impossible to describe this play and the oddities, out-of-the-wayness, flights, madness, comicalities, &c. I hope Johnson will make his fortune by it at present. We had seven or eight garters in the pit. I saw Lord Oxford and two or more there, but was so intent on the farce that I did not observe many quality that were there. We agreed to laugh and clap beforehand, and kept our word from beginning to end. The night after Johnson came to Dick’s, and they all got about him like so many bees. They say the Prince of Wales has been told of “H,” and will come and see it.... For my own part, who think all stage plays stuff and nonsense, I consider this a joke upon ’em all.
On the same day, in a letter to Mrs. Byrom, he writes—
Mrs. Hyde must let her brother teach (dancing), for “Hurlothrumbo,” as the matter stands, will hardly be quitted while it brings a house, and consequently more money, into the author’s pocket, than his teaching would do of a long time.
The play was afterwards published with a dedication to Lady Delves, and an address to Lord Walpole. The former, while remarkable for its extravagant panegyrism, is interesting from its reference to many of the local female celebrities of the time. It is as follows:—
To the Right Honourable the Lady Delves.
Madam,—When I think of your goodness, it gives me encouragement to put my play under your grand protection; and if you can find anything in it worthy of your Praise, I am sure the super-naturals will like it. I do not flatter when I say your taste is universal, great as an Empress, sweet and refined as Lady Malpas, sublime as Lady Mary Cowper, learned and complete as Lady Conway, distinguished and clear as Mrs. Madan, gay, good, and innocent as Lady Bland. I have often thought you were a compound of the world’s favourites—that all meet and rejoice together in one: the taste of a Montague, Wharton, or Meredith, Stanhope, Sneid, or Byrom; the integrity and hospitality of Leigh of Lime, the wit and fire of Bunbury, the sense of an Egerton, fervent to serve as Beresford or Mildmay, beloved like Gower. If you was his rival, you’d weaken the strength of that most powerful subject. I hope your eternal unisons in heaven will always sing to keep up the harmony in your soul, that is musical as Mrs. Leigh, and never ceases to delight; raises us in raptures like Amante Shosa, Lord Essex, or the sun. If every pore in every body in Cheshire was a mouth they would all cry out aloud, God save the Lady Delves! That illuminates the minds of mortals, inspires with Musick and Poetry especially.
Your most humble servant, Lord Flame.
The prologue was written by Mr. Amos Meredith, of Henbury, near Macclesfield, and, at the urgent request of its author, Byrom was induced to write the epilogue. Johnson’s subsequent career was marked by many whims and oddities, and even death was not permitted to terminate his eccentricity, his very grave being made to commemorate it for the amusement or pity of future generations. As we have previously stated, he is buried in a small plantation of firs near the road, and a short distance from the New Hall, in accordance with a request he had made to the owner in his life-time. His remains are covered by a plain brick tomb, now much dilapidated, on the uppermost slab of which is the following inscription:—
Under this stone