were exhibited, which is a comfort to me. 'I have now said my say, and more than you deserve. I hope you will be sensible of my benignity. 'The mutton I have sent because they rave about it here. Some call it Oakhampton, some Dartmoor. What's in a name? Kindest regards to dear Mrs. Young and to dear Wynny; and, with a true sincere appreciation of your affectionate attentions to me in calamity, believe me, ever gratefully and sincerely yours, 'C. MATHEWS.' 'Eleven o'clock p.m.—I've kept this open to say I had here, second night, £61 18s; and I suppose, with a presentiment that I might have some addition to my most extraordinary and adventurous life, I had to-night another miraculous escape the second of the same nature. The drop that was taken up to discover my bed, was half raised, when the windlass broke, and the roller came down with a tremendous impetus, and must have killed me, had not the fall been broken by the top of the bed. It still struck me with such force as to stun me, and the fright made me so faint and sick that there was no expectation of my going through another act. Again have I been providentially preserved and again am I grateful to God. For what am I reserved? Oh, let me not think !' On the first night of one of his 'At Homes,' when the theatre was packed to the very ceiling, and all his best friends and adherents were there to support him, I witnessed a singular instance of his sensibility to the opinion of others. At the end of the first part of the entertainment, Manners Sutton, the Speaker (afterwards Lord Canterbury), Theodore Hook, Gen. Phipps, and others, went behind the scenes to congratulate him and assure him that, as far as the piece had proceeded, it was an indubitable success. He accepted their compliments rather ungraciously. All they said to buoy him up only seemed the more to depress him. At first they could not make him out, till he explained himself by blurting out the truth. 'It is all very well, and very kind of you, who wish me success, to tell me the piece is going well: I know better. It ain't "going well" and it can't be "going well "it must be hanging fire, or that man with the bald head, in the pit, in the front row, could not have been asleep the whole time I have been trying to amuse him!' 'Oh,' said the Speaker, 'perhaps he is drunk.' 'No, no! he ain't; I've tried hard to "lay that flattering unction to my soul," but it won't do. I've watched the fellow, and when he opens his eyes, which he does now and then, he looks as sober as a judge, and as severe as one; and then he deliberately closes them, as if he disliked the very sight of me. I tell you all the laughter and applause of the whole house-boxes, pit, and gallery put together-weigh not a feather with me while that "pump" remains dead to my efforts to arouse him.' The call bell rang; all his friends returned to their seats in front, and he to the stage. The second part opened with one of the rapid songs, in the composition of which James Smith, the author, excelled so much, and in the delivery of which no one ever equalled Mathews, except his son, who, in that respect, surpasses him. All the time he was singing it, as he paced from the right wing to the left, one saw his head jerking from side to side, as he moved either way, his eyes always directed to one spot, till, at the end of one of the stanzas, forgetful of the audience, and transported out of himself by the obstinate insensibility of the bald-pate, he fixed his eyes on him as if he were mesmerizing him, and, leaning over the lamps, in the very loudest key, shouted at him 'Bo!' The man, startled, woke up, and observing that the singer looked at him, sang to him, and never took his eyes off him, he became flattered by the personal notice, began to listen, and then to laugh—and laugh, at last, most heartily. From that instant, the actor's spirits rose, for he felt he had converted a stolid country bumpkin into an appreciative listener. After such a triumph, he went home satisfied that his entertainment had been a complete success. This excessive sensibility to public opinion is not uncommon. The late Sir William Knighton told my uncle, George Young, that if George the Fourth went to the play, which he rarely did, and heard one hiss, though it were drowned in general and tumultuous applause, he went home miserable, and would lie awake all night, thinking only of that one note of disapprobation. Curran, again, was so notoriously susceptible to inattention or weariness on the part of his hearers, that, on more than one occasion, advocates engaged against him, perceiving his powerful invectives were damaging their client's cause, would pay some man in the court to go into a conspicuous part of it and yawn visibly and audibly. The prescription always succeeded. The eloquent spirit would droop its wing and forsake him; he would falter, forget the thread of his argument, and bring his peroration to an abrupt and unsatisfactory conclusion. Mathews was one day riding down Highgate Hill from his cottage, to rehearsal, when he met a post-chariot crawling up, with my father and another gentleman in it, who happened to be the late Lord Dacre. Mathews, not knowing him by sight, or even by name, asked my father, as he saw he was going into the country, if he was going down to Cassiobury, to Lord Essex's (where, at that time, he was a constant visitor). 'No,' replied my father, 'I am on my way to "The Hoo." 'Who?' asked Mathews. 'I am going to stay a few days at Lord Dacre's,' was the answer. Mathews, imagining Young to be poking fun at him, by ennobling Bob Acres,* laughingly exclaimed, 'I have half a mind to go with you. Mind you give my kind regards to Sir Lucius O'Trigger, who is sure to be staying with him.' No man could have enjoyed the mistake more than the noble lord himself. Mathews had such an inordinate love of drollery in every form that he would often engage very indifferent servants, if they had but originality to recommend them. I remember a gardener he had, a Lancashire man, who was a never failing fund of amusement. I was on the lawn at the cottage at Milfield Lane one day, when I overheard the following dialogue: 'I say,' said the master, patting a huge Newfoundland by his side, 'we shall have to put a muzzle on this brute. I am having so many complaints made about him from the neigh * Vide Sheridan's play of the The Rivals, bours, that I shall have to get rid of him. He worried Mrs. -'s dog, I hear, the other day, and frightened two little children nearly to death. 'Well, I don't know aboot that; but if you wants to get rid on't, I know one as 'ud like to have un; for t'other day, as I was a-going by Muster Morris' labyratoury (laboratory), Duke St. Aubon's cam louping over t' edge, and he says, says he, "Who's dog be that?" So I says, says I, "'tis master's, Muster Mathews." "Would you sell un?" says he. “No,” says I; "but I dussay master would let you have a poop." "Oh, no," says he; "Doochess has poops enough of her own!"' 'How,' asked Mathews, ' did you know it to be the Duke of St. Alban's?' 'How did I know it? How did I know it? Lor bless ye; any one might ha' knowed it was the duke. He had gotten a great gowd chain, wi' lots o' thingumbobs hanging to it, round his neck, and it run all the way into his waistcoat pocket.' At one time he had a footman, whose boundless credulity principally recommended him to his notice. A title inspired him with awe, and having seen a nobleman, now and then, at his master's table, he took it for granted that he was familiar with half the peerage. The Duke of Sussex called one day to see the picturegallery. On announcing His Royal Highness. Mathews fully expected that he would have gone off by spontaneous combustion; for he retreated backwards, puffed out his cheeks to their fullest powers of expansion, and then poised himself on one leg, like a bird, awaiting to see the effect produced on his master by the appearance of such a visitor. Knowing his weakness, Mathews used to tell all his intimates, whenever they called, to be sure to present themselves under some assumed title. Thus Charles Kemble always announced himself as the Persian ambassador; Fawcett called himself Sir Francis Burdett; my father was the Duke of Wellington. This habit of jocular imposition once involv ed Mathews in an awkward scrape. He had no idea that there existed such a title as that of 'Ranelagh.' So that, when the veritable nobleman of that name called one day on horseback at the door, and sent up a message by the manservant to say that "Lord Ranelagh would be much obliged if Mr. Mathews would step down to him, as he could not dismount,' Mathews, convinced it was one of his chums under a feigned title, sent down word to say that Lord Banelagh must be kind enough to put up his horse in the stables, and walk up, as he could not go out of doors, having a cold, and being particularly engaged at the time with Lord Vauxhall. Lord Ranelagh could hardly believe his ears when he received this familiar, flippant and impertinent message. He rode off in a state of boiling indignation, and forthwith despatched a note to the offender, commenting severely on his impudence in daring to play upon his name. Of course, as soon as Mathews discovered his mistake, he wrote and explained it, and apologized for it amply. Mathews had often told Charles Kemble of the great amusement his man-servant's peculiarities afforded him, but Kemble said he had never been able to discover anything in him but crass stupidity. Ah,' said Mathews, 'you can't conceive what a luxury it is to have a man under the same roof with you who will believe anything you will tell him, however impossible it may be.' One warm summer's day, when Mathews had a dinner party at Highgate, and there were present, among others, Broderip, Theodore Hook, General Phipps, Manners Sutton (then Speaker of the House of Commons), and Charles Kemble, and dessert was laid out on the lawn, Mathews, without hinting his intention, rang the bell in the dining-room, and on its being answered, told the man to follow him to the stables whilst he gave the coachman certain directions in his presence. The instant Mathews reached the stable-door, he called out for the coachman (who he knew was not there) looked in, and, before the man-servant could overtake him, started back, and, in a voice of horror, cried out, 'Good heavens !' go back, go back-and tell Mr. Kemble that his horse has cut his throat!' The simple goose, infected by his master's well-feigned panic, and never pausing to reflect on the absurdity of the thing, burst on to the lawn, and, with cheeks blanched with terror, roared out, Mr. Kemble, Sir, you're wanted directly.' Seeing Kemble in no hurry to move, he repeated his appeal with increased emphasis, 'For heaven's sake, Sir, come; your poor horse has cut his throat!' From that time Kemble, the Persian ambassador, admitted fully that if his friend's servant was not funny himself, he could be the fruitful cause of fun to others. After Mathews' death, and long after his Life had been published by his widow, she wrote to me to say that she was writing an article for one the magazines; that she was sure I must recollect anecdotes of her husband which, in the lapse of many years, had escaped her memory, and she should be grateful to me if I would put on paper anything I could recollect not contained in the Life. I complied with her wish; and she afterwards wrote and thanked me for what I had sent her, telling me it was printed and published. But, as I have never seen the periodical which contains it, I have no scruple in repeating the substance of my contribution, as, in so doing, I am plagiarizing from no one but myself. Whenever Mathews brought out a new 'At Home,' he was sure to receive a summons to ran. Windsor to produce it before George the Fourth. On one such occasion, after giving imitations of Lords Thurlow, Loughborough, Mansfield, and Sheridan, he concluded with the most celebrated one of all, that of John Philpot CurThe felicity of his portraiture of the first four, the King readily admitted, nodding his head in recognition of their resemblance to their originals, and now and then laughing so heartily as to cause the actor to pronounce him the most intelligent auditor he had ever had. He was, therefore, the more mortified after giving his chef d'œuvre, to notice the King throw himself back in his chair, and overhear him say to Lady Coningham' 'Very odd, I can't trace any resemblance to Curran at all.' He had scarcely uttered the words before he regretted it; for he perceived by the heightened complexion and depressed manner of the performer that his unfavourable stricture had been heard. As soon, therefore, as the entertainment was concluded, the King, with generous sympathy, went up to Mathews, shook him warmly by the hand, and, after presenting him with a watch, with his own portrait set in brilliants on the case, took him familiarly by the button, and thus addressed him :-'My dear Mathews, I fear you overheard a hasty remark I made to Lady Coningham. I say, advisedly, a hasty He wound it up with some such words as these: remark," because the version you give of Cur--"In concluding, he could only say that, deran, all those who know him best declare to be quite perfect; and I ought, in justice to you, to confess that I never saw him but once, and therefore am hardly a fair judge of the merits of your impersonation. You see, I think it very possible that, never having been in my presence before, his manner under the circumstances may have been unnaturally constrained. You will, perhaps, think it odd that I, who in my earlier days lived much and intimately with the Whigs, should never have seen him but Yet so it was. once. 'I always had had a great curiosity to know a man so renommé for his wit and other social qualities; and, therefore, I asked my brother Frederick, "How I could best see Curran ?" He smiled and said, "Not much difficulty about it. Your Royal Highness has but to send him a summons to dinner through your Chamberlain, and the thing is done." This hint was acted on, and he came; but on the whole he was taciturn, and mal a son aise.' 'Oh, Sir,' replied Mathews, 'the imitation I gave you of Curran was of Curran in his forensic manner, and not in his private capacity. Would your Majesty permit me to give you another imitation of him as he would appear at a dinner-table?' On receiving the King's sanction to do so, he threw himself with such abandon into the mind, manner, wit, and waggery, of his original, that the King was in ecstasies. He then went up to Mathews, and resumed his chat. 'I was about to tell you, that after my brother's suggestion, I said to him, "You shall make up the party for me; only let the ingredients mix well together." I don't think, between ourselves, that he executed his commission very well; for he asked too many men of the same profession-each more or less jealous of the other. The consequence was, that the dinner was heavy. However, after the cloth was removed, I was determined to draw out the little ugly silent man I saw at the bottom of the table; and, with that object in view, I proposed the health of "The Bar." To my unspeakable annoyance, up sprang, in reply, Counsellor Ego.* He certainly made a very able speech, though one rather too redolent of self. scended as he was from a long and illustrious line of ancestry, he felt himself additionally ennobled on the day he was admitted to the rank of Barrister." I was not going to be thwarted in my purpose; and, therefore, the next toast I proposed was 66 Success to the Irish Bar." Then up sprang our little sallow-faced friend, and by his wit and humour, and graceful elocution, made me laugh one minute and cry the next. He annihilated Erskine by the humility of his bearing; and closed his speech, I recollect, as follows:-" The noble Lord who has just sat down, distinguished as he is by his own personal merits, has told you, Sir, that though ennobled by his birth, he feels additionally so by his profession. Judge then, Sir, what must be my pride in a profession which has raised me, the son of a peasant, to the table of my Prince."" * Mathews was once on a visit in Shropshire to Mr. Ormsby Gore. On the first morning after his arrival, when at breakfast, his entertainer expressed his regret at having to leave him to his own devices till dinner-time, as the the grand jury. 'If,' he added, ‘you like to assizes had begun, and he was summoned on beat the home-covers, my gamekeeper and the dogs shall attend you; or, if you prefer it, as you are not much of a walker, you can accompany the ladies in their afternoon's drive.' Oh,' replied Mathews, 'if you wish to afford me a real treat, you will allow me to accompany you to Shrewsbury; for there is no place I am so fond of attending as a court of justice; and no place which affords a richer field for the study of character.' Mr. Gore declared he should be delighted to have his company, and would take care he should get well placed in the court, and have, moreover, a chair to sit down on. Mathews declined these considerate offers, saying that he much preferred mixing with the crowd, listening to their talk, jotting down in his commonplace-book anything he might see or overhear worth remembering, and watching the faces of the criminals and wit nesses. When he had mingled for some time with the herd of idlers directly or indirectly interested in the proceedings of the court, he elbowed his way into the very centre of the hall, joyment of his day, and grew wanton in commendation of the urbanity and condescension of Parke. Before dressing for dinner, he wrote to his wife an enthusiastic description of the honours conferred on him, telling her henceforth to mark the day in her almanack with a red letter. Two or three years after this memorable visit to Shropshire, he went into Monmouthshire, to stay with his friend, Mr. Rolls. While he and his host were over their wine and walnuts, the latter, looking up at the ceiling, and trying to recall some incident which had escaped his memory, said, as if speaking to himself, 'Who was it? Who on earth was it that was here sometime ago, and was talking of you? I cannot think who it could have been. Oh, yes, I remember now. It was Judge Parke. Did not you and he meet somewhere or other? 'Ah,' said Mathews, 'I am proud to say we did! What a fascinating person he is. I think I never saw a man of such sterling benevolence and such captivating manners.' By this time Mr. Rolls had recalled the circumstances that had slipped his recollection: so that, when Mathews began to indulge in a glowing eulogium on Parke, he could not repress a smile. This his thin-skinned guest was not slow to perceive; and his withers began to wince. just as the judge was taking his seat. He had not been there two minutes before the judge was seen making courteous signs to some one in the thick of the crowd-beckoning to him to come up, and occupy the vacant seat by his side. Mathews, though he perceived that the judge's eye looked, and his finger pointed, in his direction, felt assured that the summons could not be meant for him, as he had not the honour of knowing the great functionary; therefore he looked behind him, to notify to any more probable person that he might see that he was signalled to. The Judge (the excellent James Allen Parke), hopeless of making himself understood, scribbled on a small piece of paper these words, 'Judge Parke hopes Mr. Mathews will come and sit by him.' He then folded it up, put it into the notch of the long rod of one of the ushers, and ordered it to be delivered to its address. On opening it, Mathews told me he felt himself blush like a maiden at the compliment thus unexpectedly paid him. That he, a poor player, should be singled out for such distinction by one of the judges of the land, and one known to be of strict piety and blameless life, gave him more intense gratification than the notice of his sovereign. It was evident that he had been recognized under the most flattering conditions, not as Mathews the comedian, but as Mathews the man, and that, too, by an emi-Pray,' said he, 'did the good Judge say anynent legal dignitary who probably had never entered the walls of a theatre. Threading his way through an obsequious multitude, who were duly impressed with his importance by the notice taken of him, and then passing through a chamber full of country squires and neighbouring magnates, he mounted the judgment-seat, and humbly, yet proudly, took the place awarded to him. The Judge shook him cordially by the hand, as if he had been an old friend, put a list of the cases for trial before him, directed his special attention to one which, he said, would prove of painful and pathetic interest, and completed his civilities by placing a packet of sandwiches at his side. After the business of the day had terminated, Mathews, on his drive home, dilated at length on his en thing about me, then, eh?' 'Well, returned Rolls, if you will not be offended, I will tell you the truth. When he was here, he said to me, "I think, Rolls, you are a friend of Mathews the actor-a man, I hear, with a dreadful propensity for taking people off. Conceive, then, my consternation, two years ago, at Shrewsbury, on seeing him directly in front of me, evidently with the intention of studying me, and showing me up! Well; what do you think I did? Knowing that I should not be able to attend to my notes while the fellow was there, I sent a civil message to him, and invited him to come and sit by me: and thus, I trust, propitiated him, so that he will now have too much good feeling, I should think, ever to introduce me into his gallery of Legal Portraits." |