Irving often related this story against himself with the greatest gusto, enjoying it quite as much as his hearers did.
On many occasions Madame Tussaud’s has been of service to the stage.
When the late W. G. Wills, the author of Jane Shore, a prolific playwright in his day, was at the height of his popularity, my father was approached by Mr. Coleman, manager of the Queen’s Theatre, Long Acre, to produce for him a figure of Charles I.
The reason of this request was, surely, one of the strangest that ever entered the brain of even the most enterprising of theatrical managers.
Mr. George Rignold was playing at that theatre a drama, written by Wills, entitled Cromwell. This play was the successor of another by the same dramatist, namely, Charles I, in which Irving played the part of the King, and confirmed the reputation he had made in The Bells.
A bargain had been struck that if Charles I succeeded, Wills should write Cromwell for Mr. Coleman. Charles I proved a great success at the Lyceum, but Cromwell was a comparative failure at the Queen’s.
I come now to the reason of Mr. Coleman’s request for a waxen model of the King.
He said he wanted it to repose in the coffin on the stage to stimulate the imagination of the actor, Mr. Rignold, when rendering the long oration delivered by Cromwell in the presence of the dead monarch.
The model was furnished with every detail, even to the clothing in which the body was attired. I was afterwards told that only the manager, the actor, and my father were aware of the realistic plan that had been devised to accentuate an actor’s eloquence.