Garrick excelled in the art of facial expression. When he sat to Gainsborough, he paid, it is said, no fewer than sixteen visits to his studio, and on each occasion wrought a change in his features. At length the painter, declaring he could not paint a man with such a “Protean phiz,” threw down his brush in despair. Garrick sat to Hogarth as Fielding, after the novelist’s death, when the painter wished to paint a posthumous likeness of the great writer. Dressed in a suit of Fielding’s clothes, the actor cleverly assumed his features, look, and attitude. Small wonder that Johnson, when he heard that Garrick’s face was growing wrinkled, exclaimed: “And so it ought, for whose face has experienced so much wear and tear as his?”
At times this great actor would indulge in very unconventional behaviour. Acting in a tragedy in which a Mr. Thomas Hurst—who was a brandy-merchant—took a part, Garrick, conceiving Hurst too tame to support him, reproved him publicly on the stage. “Mr. Hurst,” said he, “if you will put MORE British spirit into your acting, and LESS in your brandy, you may send me two gallons to-morrow morning.” Whether the brandy-merchant was offended or not, history does not relate; but he took care to remember the order, which he sent the following day, writing at the bottom of the bill of parcels: “As per your order last night, on the stage of Drury Lane Theatre.”
Garrick once set up a man in a snuff-shop, and actually recommended his snuff, known as “No. 37,” from the stage, as a result of which the snuff-merchant realized an ample fortune.
Garrick, as is well known, was not devoid of vanity, and was at times fond of praising himself. During one evening at the Sublime Society, he remarked that so many manuscript plays were sent him to read, that in order to avoid losing them and hurting the feelings of the poor devils the authors, he made a point of ticketing and labelling the play that was to be returned, that it might be forthcoming at a moment’s notice. “A fig for your hypocrisy!” exclaimed Murphy across the table. “You know, Davy, you mislaid my tragedy two months ago, and I make no doubt you have lost it.” “Yes,” replied Garrick; “but you forget, you ungrateful dog, that I offered you more than its value, for you might have had two manuscript farces in its stead.”
Amongst the many fascinating actresses of other days who smile from the Garrick walls, some mention must be made of Mrs. Oldfield—Pope’s Narcissa. Mrs. Oldfield was supposed to be the daughter of a Captain Oldfield. Her early years were passed with an aunt, who kept the Mitre Tavern in St. James’s Market. At this resort she attracted attention for her recitation of one of Beaumont and Fletcher’s comedies, and Rich, the celebrated manager, gave her an engagement at Drury Lane. Starting at a small salary, she quickly rose to speaking parts, and soon became the leading lady on the stage of that day. She went to the theatre in a chair escorted by two footmen, and, seldom mixing with her fellow-actors, enjoyed a unique position in spite of a by no means severe morality. She had one son by Arthur Maynwaring, and afterwards lived under the protection of General Churchill, a brother of the great Duke of Marlborough. It is said that Queen Caroline remarked to her one day: “I hear that you and the General are married.” “Madam,” replied the actress discreetly, “the General keeps his own secrets.” Mrs. Oldfield’s children married well; her granddaughter became the wife of Lord Walpole of Wolterton, and was the direct ancestress of the present writer. The American novelist Mr. Winston Churchill is, I believe, a descendant of the sprightly actress.
From time to time the original collection at the Garrick Club has been largely increased, and some of the additions are notable. One of the most admirable modern portraits in the club now hangs over the morning-room mantelpiece. It represents the late Sir Henry Irving in morning dress, and was painted and presented by Sir John Millais. Another good portrait of the veteran Phelps as Cardinal Wolsey, in scarlet robes, is the work of that talented artist and actor—Mr. Forbes-Robertson. Mr. Henry Neville, who died but recently, was painted as Count Almaviva, by Mr. W. John Walton; and Sir Squire and Lady Bancroft are represented in marble statuettes, done by the late Prince Victor of Hohenlohe. A picture of Sir John Hare in one of his most successful creations—Benjamin Goldfinch in “A Pair of Spectacles”—has recently been added.
In the Garrick are preserved some small silver candlesticks, formed of little figures representing harlequins and the like. These were presented by the writer’s great-uncle, Edward Walpole, known as Adonis Walpole on account of his good looks. The rest of the set is in the possession of Lady Dorothy Nevill.
There have been many “characters” amongst Garrick members in former days, of whom, perhaps, the most original was Tom Hill, who was an authority upon most things—grave or gay.
Born in 1760 at Queenhithe, he became a dry-salter, but, having sustained financial losses in 1810, retired about that year to rooms in the Adelphi, where he lived comfortably enough. A great collector of books, chiefly old poetry, and theatrical relics, he was very well known in literary and stage circles.
Hill is said to have been the original of Paul Pry, but this is doubtful. The great joke in connection with him was his age. James Smith once said that it was impossible to discover his age, for the parish register had been burnt in the Fire of London; but Hook capped this: “Pooh, pooh!”—Tom’s habitual exclamation—“he’s one of the Little Hills that are spoken of as skipping in the Psalms.”