“At about seven o’clock we arrived at Dorchester. On my stepping out of the coach, a gentleman very civilly gave me his hand. Who should it be but Mr. Siddons! who was come on purpose to meet me. He was very well, and the same night I had the pleasure of seeing my dear boy, more benefited by the sea than can be conceived. He desires me to thank Mr. Whalley for the fruit, which he enjoyed very much. We have got a most deplorable lodging, and the water and the bread are intolerable; ‘but travellers must be content.’ Mr. Whalley was so good as to be interested about my bathing. Is there anything I could refuse to do at his or your request? I intend to bathe to-morrow morning, cost what pain it will. I expected to have found more company here.
“I went to Dorchester yesterday to dine with Mr. Beach, who is on a visit to a relation, and has been laid up with the gout, but is recovering very fast. He longs to see Langford, and I am anxious to have him see it. I suppose Mr. Whalley has heard when Mr. Pratt comes. [Mr. Pratt was a Bath bookseller who had given her lessons in elocution; and afterwards, when she was not allowed by the manager of Drury Lane to act in his tragedy, declared he would write an ode on Ingratitude and dedicate it to her.] Pray present the kindest wishes of Mr. Siddons, little Harry, and myself. I hope Mr. Whalley will do me the favour to choose the ribbon for my watch-string. I should like it as near the colour of little dear Paphy’s ear as possible. I did not very well comprehend what Lady Mary (Knollys) said about the buckles. Will you please to give her my respectful compliments, and say I beg her pardon for having deferred speaking to her on that subject to so awkward a time, but hope my illness the last day I had the honour of seeing her ladyship will be my excuse. I hope I shall be favoured with a line from you, and that her ladyship will explain herself more fully then. Harry has just puzzled me very much. When going to eat some filberts after dinner, I told him you desired he would not eat them; ‘But,’ says he, ‘what would you have done if Mr. Whalley had desired you would?’ I was at a stand for a little while, and at last he found a means to save me from my embarrassment by saying, ‘But you know Mr. Whalley would not desire you to eat them if he thought they would hurt you.’ ‘Very true, Harry,’ says I; so it ended there.”
The following shows that the engagement with the London manager was not yet completely ratified; she was probably standing out for better terms, which he was not inclined to give.
“I look forward with inexpressible delight to our snug parties, and I have the pleasure to inform you that I shall not go to London this winter. Mr. Linley thinks my making a partial appearance will neither benefit myself nor the proprietors. Mrs. Crawford threatens to leave them very often, he says, but I suppose she knows her own interest better. I should suppose she has a very good fortune, and I should be vastly obliged to her if she would go and live very comfortably upon it. I’ll give her leave to stay and be of as much service to my good and dear friend’s tragedy as she possibly can, and then let her retire as soon as she pleases. I hope I shall not tire you; Mr. Siddons is afraid I shall, and in compliance to him (who, with me, returns his grateful acknowledgments for all your kindnesses), I conclude with, I hope, an unnecessary assurance, that I am ever your grateful and affectionate servant, S. Siddons.
“P.S.—Please to present our joint compliments to Mr. Whalley, Mrs. Whalley, and Miss Squire, and, in short, the whole circle, not forgetting Mrs. Reeves, to whom I am much obliged. In an especial manner, I beg to be remembered to the cruel beauty, Sappho. She knows her power, and therefore treats me like a little tyrant. Adieu! God for ever bless you and yours! The beach here is the most beautiful I ever saw.”
She alludes above to Whalley’s tragedy Morval, which was acted later with her as heroine. It was a complete failure, and was only performed three nights.
Mrs. Siddons became fond of Weymouth, and often returned there in after years. Miss Burney, in her Memoirs, tells us of being there once on duty with the King and Royal Family. They met the actress, who made a sweeping curtsey, walking on the sands with her children. The King commanded a performance at the theatre, but the Royal Family having gone away on an expedition, did not get back in time, and kept everyone waiting. The King and Queen arriving at last, sent a page home for their wigs, so as not to keep the audience waiting any longer.
CHAPTER V.
SUCCESS.
At last all difficulties were arranged between the manager of Drury Lane and Mrs. Siddons, and the day dawned on which she was again destined to make her bow before a London audience. It was the 10th October 1782. Important changes had taken place in the theatre since the fatal December seven years before. The proud pre-eminence of Drury Lane had passed away; the magic circle of theatrical genius that Garrick kept together by his personal influence had been broken up and dispersed under Sheridan’s erratic management. Mrs. Abington, Mrs. Yates, and Miss Young had deserted to other companies. So that the fine selection of plays, ever ready with the same set of players at hand to act them, ensuring a perfection never achieved before, were now mounted without care of thought, and acted by whomever the capricious manager chose to select for the moment. Old trained hands, accustomed to the methodical rule of Garrick, would not submit to be transferred from part to part, receiving no due notice beforehand, and, above all, they would not submit to the irregularity in the money arrangements which had begun almost immediately after the impecunious Irishman took the reins of government. There were hardly any names of note now to be seen on the bills except those of Smith, Palmer, and King, and they openly talked of deserting the sinking ship.