MEMOIRS 
 
 OF 
 
 JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN, 
 
 COMEDIAN. 
 
 BY HIS SON 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET, 
 1844. 
 
London : 
 
 Printed by S. & J. BENTLEY, WILSON, and FLEY, 
 Bangor House, Shoe Lane. 
 
"I HAVE seen this gifted actor in Sir 
 Christopher Curry in Old Dornton dif- 
 fuse a glow of sentiment which has made 
 the pulse of a crowded theatre beat like 
 that of one man ; when he has come in 
 aid of the pulpit, doing good to the moral 
 heart of a people. I have seen some 
 faint approaches to this sort of excellence 
 in other players ; but, in the grand gro- 
 tesque of farce, Munden stands out as single 
 and unaccompanied as Hogarth. Hogarth, 
 strange to tell, had no followers. The school 
 of Munden began, and must end with him- 
 self." Ella, " On the Acting of Munden." 
 
MEMOIRS 
 
 OF 
 
 JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Garrick : his contemporaries and theatrical children Shuter, 
 Munden's model and instructor Joe Munden's birth and 
 parentage An apothecary's boy and law-stationer's clerk 
 His strolling propensity Journeys and humorous adven- 
 tures Engagement at Chester Becomes a manager and 
 lessee The Chester company : Cooke, Mrs. Whitlock, Mrs. 
 Hun (Canning's mother), Austin, &c. Munden's unhappy 
 liaison : its unexpected rupture His marriage Private 
 theatricals at Eaton Hall Death of Edwin Despair of a 
 successor Mr. Const engages Munden Our actor's first 
 appearance at Covent Garden Theatre Criticisms on his 
 performance. 
 
 ON the 10th June, 1776, Mr. Garrick retired 
 from the stage, and quitted it, leaving- no rival 
 or successor for no subsequent actor could 
 embrace the vast sphere of his genius. He ran 
 through the "whole compass" of the drama, 
 and was " master of all." Even Mrs. Siddons, 
 the miracle of our times, who was as fond of 
 
 B 
 
MEMOIRS OF 
 
 playing comedy, as Mrs. Jordan (another mi- 
 racle) was of attempting tragedy, could not 
 command the gift of universal dramatic talent: 
 the comedy of the one was serious, and the 
 tragedy of the other insipid. When some one 
 observed to Sheridan, that a tragedy of Cum- 
 berland's was not entertaining, " I am sure 
 it is," said Sherry, " for I laughed at it from 
 beginning to end." 
 
 It is difficult to estimate the powers which 
 constitute an actor. Men of the highest attain- 
 ments, of the most efficient physical powers, 
 and agreeable persons, have totally failed. The 
 instances are not rare, when a performer, who 
 approached so near the summit that he seemed 
 to touch it, was yet an inch beneath. Others 
 have played the most effective parts with cor- 
 rectness and judgment, and met with but cold 
 approbation ; the u mens divinior" was not in 
 them : the applause was, in no few instances, 
 reserved for the ignorant, the dissolute, and 
 the idle. 
 
 None of these remarks apply to the three 
 distinguished performers referred to, espe- 
 cially not to Garrick. Truly characterized 
 
 " As an actor, confessed without rival to shine ; 
 As a wit, if not first, in the very first line." 
 
 We have spoken of the actor: in the latter 
 character, he replied to Goldsmith's Retaliation 
 with force and neatness ; and lashed his assail- 
 ant, Dr. Hill, in two, perhaps, the most poig- 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 
 
 nant epigrams in our language. His epitaph 
 on Sterne his prologues and epilogues are 
 master-pieces in their way. In conjunction 
 with the elder Colman, he wrote the " Clandes- 
 tine Marriage," the second best comedy of 
 modern times: the part of Lord Ogleby has 
 generally been attributed to Garf ick.* 
 
 Mr. Garrick took his farewell of the stage 
 in Don Felix, in Mrs. Centlivre's play " A 
 Wonder a Woman keeps a Secret," thus 
 confirming Sir Joshua Reynolds^ impression, 
 who, in delineating him, at a loss to choose 
 between Tragedy and Comedy, turns his admir- 
 ing glance towards Tragedy, but his attitude 
 and smiling face seem to imply: " How can I 
 tear myself from Comedy." He delivered a 
 farewell address, and took his leave, admired 
 and regretted by all. 
 
 In summing up the general merits of this 
 
 * I believe Geo. Colman, jun., denies this. However, it is 
 certain that Garrick had a large share in writing it. Mr. Austin 
 was present when Garrick read the play in the green-room. 
 Feeling fatigued, he handed the MS. to Mr. King. Mr. King 
 read it in his usual tone, until, warming with the subject, he 
 imitated the voice and manner of an old country beau the 
 counterpart of the character, well known to himself and Mr, 
 Austin. Garrick listened with evident delight, and, when he 
 took back the MS., said, " King, I intended that part for my- 
 self ; but you shall play it. I cannot play it, after having 
 heard you read it." King did play it, and in such a style 
 as was never approached until it was acted by Mr. William 
 Farren. 
 
4 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 unrivalled actor, it is admitted, on all hands, 
 that he carried his art to its highest pitch of 
 perfection; whilst he conferred dignity on its 
 professors by the propriety of his conduct, his 
 literary abilities, and his familiar intimacy with 
 noble and eminent men. Even the House of 
 Commons, when it refused to enforce the stand- 
 ing order, which would have excluded him from 
 the gallery during a debate, paid a high tri- 
 bute to the merit of the greatest master of elo- 
 cution. Most of his predecessors, excepting 
 Betterton, who, from Colley Gibber's eloquent 
 description, must have been a master of his art, 
 were mere mouthers. Garrick banished decla- 
 mation from the stage, and introduced a natural 
 tone of speaking, more in conformity with the 
 language of passion in ordinary life. There' 
 had prevailed, also, a pedantry in the use of 
 action and in gesticulation. It was supposed 
 that the dignity of tragedy required that the 
 arms should be moved horizontally, " sawing 
 the air," and one at a time ; " the right hand 
 laboured while the left lay still." Garrick 
 broke through this conventional rule at once, 
 in Murphy's" Orphan of China;" advancing to 
 the front of the stage, and exclaiming, " China 
 is lost for ever!" with both arms raised above 
 his head. The effect was startling, and the truth 
 of the attitude was at once recognised by the 
 audience. The only fault alleged against him 
 is, his want of perception in continuing the 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 5 
 
 incongruity of the usage of modern costume in 
 tragedies of an ancient date ; playing, for in- 
 stance, Macbeth in a red coat: but the writer 
 can state, on the authority of the late Mr. 
 Austin, that Garrick had long considered the 
 subject. It was not in the catalogue of his 
 demerits which Sterne's "Critic" discovered; 
 and, had it been, he might have appealed to 
 the thorough illusion which he always created, 
 and exclaimed, "Was the eye silent?" But 
 Garrick was a prudent man : he knew that the 
 public did not demand it, and were satisfied 
 without it; he was afraid of encouraging a taste 
 which might prove in the end too exorbitant to 
 gratify of raising a spirit which he could not 
 exorcise ; and he did not think it necessary to 
 sacrifice his hard-earned competency to gratify 
 a fastidious appetite for secondary objects. No 
 doubt the public were largely indebted to tha^ 
 accomplished man and excellent actor, Mr. 
 John Kemble, for the benefit which his classi- 
 cal education, correct judgment, and thorough 
 knowledge of his profession, conferred on the 
 national taste ; but it was Agamemnon sacri- 
 ficing his child. Mr. Kemble devoted a large 
 portion of his fortune to the ambition of form- 
 ing a correct scenic personification. Like the 
 great masters in painting, Mr. Garrick endea- 
 voured to transmit his perfection in his art to 
 posterity. He instructed many tyros, espe- 
 cially the younger Bannister, in tragedy, and 
 
6 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Miss Young ;* wrote for, and encouraged the 
 rising comedians, Quick and others, whom 
 he brought prominently forward, and termed 
 his children. But there were comic actors, 
 his cotemporaries, who needed not instruction, 
 for they seemed to play from instinct :f such 
 actors were Weston and Shuter. To the latter 
 performer, who took great pains with the young 
 aspirant, the public are indebted, unaccom- 
 panied by servile imitation, for a large portion 
 of the diversion which they derived from the 
 rich humour of Munden. 
 
 Joseph, or, as he was more generally called, 
 Joe Munden, was the son of a humble trades- 
 man in Brook's Market, Holborn, where he 
 was born in the year 1758. He might have 
 replied, as Home Tooke did with great readi- 
 
 * The anecdote of Miss Young is affecting. She played 
 Cordelia to Mr. Garrick's Lear a few days previous to his re- 
 tirement. On returning to the green-room, Garrick remarked, 
 " My dear, I shall never be your father again." " Then, sir," 
 rejoined Miss Young, kneeling, " Give me a father's blessing." 
 " God bless you, my child," said Mr. Garrick, placing his 
 hands on her head in visible emotion ! 
 
 t Weston is said to have been a prototype of Liston, occa- 
 sioning roars of laughter by a single look. This seems con- 
 firmed by the portrait of him by Zoifani, in Dr. Last. On one 
 occasion, when the audience were dissatisfied at some assump- 
 tion of Weston's, and called out, " Shuter, Shuter!" Weston, 
 looking towards the lady who was on the stage with him, 
 exclaimed, with an appearance of simplicity, " Why should 
 you shoot her ? I am sure she plays her part very well." 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 7 
 
 ness, when, at the University, some impertinent 
 person inquired what profession his father fol- 
 lowed, " He is a Turkey merchant." True it 
 was, that the elder Mr. Munden, like the elder 
 Mr. Home, dealt in geese and chickens. Brook's 
 Street is a short one, but it was the grave of 
 Chatterton and the birth-place of Munden. 
 
 Joe was a very refractory boy. He is said 
 to have been apprenticed to an apothecary; but 
 though not highly educated, he wrote an ex- 
 traordinarily fine hand, and through this ac- 
 complishment obtained a situation in the office 
 of Mr. Druce, a respectable law-stationer, in 
 Chancery-lane. Here, it is said, Joe handled 
 the ruler as a truncheon, and taught the hack- 
 ney writers to perform Richard the Third. 
 
 In the evening he emerged from his paren- 
 tal window, which the curious may satisfy 
 themselves by inspection is not far from the 
 ground, and stole to the gallery of the theatre, 
 to witness the performance of Garrick, &c. He 
 thus imbibed a taste for acting, if, indeed, a taste 
 is ever formed in human beings, without that 
 afflatus, which, like the faculty of instinct in ani- 
 mals, seems to direct them to the most natural 
 bent of their pursuit. It is singular that the 
 number of persons who are what is termed 
 " stage struck," has "greatly decreased since it 
 has become a profitable profession. The new 
 "Stars" are very rare; but when it barely afford- 
 ed a subsistence, there was scarcely an attorney's 
 
8 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 clerk who did not leave that " calling for this 
 idle trade." Perhaps there was something at- 
 tractive in the romantic career they followed ; as 
 gipsies are said to despise the practices of or- 
 dinary life. Some of the greatest actors that the 
 stage has yet seen, performed in barns Yates 
 and Shuter in a booth at Bartholomew Fair. 
 
 Many were the times that truant Joe eloped 
 from his home to join a band of strollers; and 
 was followed and brought back by his fond and 
 indulgent mother. She knew his haunts, and 
 that he had not the means of wandering far from 
 town ; and she generally succeeded in finding 
 him. Dreading an escapade, she was in the 
 habit of mixing among the audience and poun- 
 cing upon poor Joe when he made his appear- 
 ance. On one occasion, his coat thrice pre- 
 sented itself to the view of the audience before 
 its owner appeared in propria persona; being the 
 best coat in the company, and, consequently, 
 the most suitable for gentlemen in comedy. 
 His coadjutors were put to sad shifts. The ac- 
 tor off the stage, as we have seen, supplied part 
 of his wardrobe to him who succeeded ; and 
 a jack-chain borrowed from the kitchen of a 
 neighbouring alehouse served for the fetters 
 that bound the tyrant Bajazet.* 
 
 Various droll stories have been recorded of 
 Joe's early career. Some of them are doubt- 
 
 * In the country they played upon what is called " shares," 
 and even the pieces of candle were carefully divided. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 
 
 less apocryphal ; for in after life Munden was 
 in the habit of what is called cramming the hun- 
 ters after theatrical biography, who sought to 
 fill the Magazines at his expense. The most 
 suspicious tale is that, in a moment of emer- 
 gency, he presented himself before a serjeant 
 of the Warwickshire Militia, and, under the 
 pretext of enlisting, obtained bed and board 
 for the night, quietly taking his departure the 
 next morning. This is manifestly a fiction ; the 
 serjeant would have tendered the shilling at 
 once, and knew his duty too well to let his re- 
 cruit be a deserter. It is certain that he con- 
 trived to get conveyed to Liverpool, and there, 
 in consequence of his great skill in penman- 
 ship, obtained a situation in the Town Clerk's 
 office.* It was at Liverpool that he met with 
 Shuter, and experienced his kindly attentions. 
 The demon of theatrical mania took possession 
 of his soul, and he is said to have played sun- 
 dry characters, of small repute, for eighteen- 
 pence per night. From Liverpool he repaired 
 to Rochdale,f where he had relations, and 
 joined a strolling company. A laughable cir- 
 cumstance is related of this company, which 
 
 * The late Mr. Pope presented me with the cash-book of this 
 office, which had somehow fallen into his hands. Munden's 
 salary is there entered at ten shillings and sixpence a- week ; it 
 does not appear to have been suffered to remain long in arrear. 
 T. S. M. 
 
 t Mr. Munden had a near relative at Rochdale, who was 
 
 B5 
 
10 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 took place during the performance of the Fair 
 Penitent. In the scene where Calista is seated 
 in all the dignity of grief, beside the clay-cold 
 corse of the false Lothario, it unfortunately 
 happened, that the person who lay as the life- 
 less form of the gay perfidious, was neither 
 more nor less than a footman in the neighbour- 
 hood. His master happened accidentally to be 
 at the theatre, and presented himself behind the 
 stage to the great discomfiture of poor John, 
 who, hearing his voice, speedily started up, to 
 the surprise of the audience, and immediately 
 took to his heels. 
 
 Munden returned to Liverpool, and remained 
 for some time at the Town Clerk's office ; but 
 the fascinations of a stroller's life could not be 
 resisted. With a guinea in his pocket he set 
 off for Chester, and expended his last shilling 
 for admittance to that theatre of which he af- 
 terwards became the proprietor. It is said that 
 on leaving the house, he made a vow that he 
 would one day be the manager. Some prophe- 
 cies ensure their own fulfilment, for they direct 
 the energies of powerful minds to a distinct ob- 
 ject, when difficulty and doubt hang around 
 
 wealthy, and from whom he had large expectations. He did 
 not leave him a farthing ; and the reason, which was pretty 
 well ascertained was, that Munden, in the fulness of his heart, 
 invited him to the principal inn, and gave him a handsome din- 
 ner, which the careful tradesman considered was a wasteful 
 expenditure. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 11 
 
 them. Again he had recourse to his pen, and 
 obtained employment in the office of a writing 
 stationer. Here he met with a London ac- 
 quaintance, who, not being flush of money, 
 pledged his ring, and with the produce they re- 
 paired to Whitchurch, where they separated. 
 From Whitchurch, Joe managed to reach (with 
 some casual assistance) Birmingham, and again 
 met with a friend, a supper, and a bed. He, 
 then, by some means or other, contrived to get to 
 Woodstock, where he was recognised by a per- 
 son who had left Liverpool a few weeks before, 
 in consequence of a law-suit, in which a verdict 
 had been given against him. At Liverpool, 
 this man followed the business of a gardener, 
 which he quitted on that occasion, and had fled 
 to this place, where, in the gardens of Blen- 
 heim, he again wielded the spade. 
 
 Much pleased at meeting Munden, owing 
 to a grateful remembrance of services, which 
 our hero, during the time he was clerk to 
 the gentleman who defended his suit, had 
 rendered him, he administered to his wants, 
 and gave our adventurer a comfortable proof 
 that good offices are not always forgotten. 
 In the morning Joe pursued his journey. 
 Nothing material happened for some days, 
 till he fortunately met a friend near Acton, 
 to whom he had written from Oxford to meet 
 him on the road with money. Fortunately, 
 it may be said, for a second day's travel and 
 
12 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 fasting- had nearly exhausted his strength, 
 and he was just sinking beneath the pressure 
 of hunger and fatigue. 
 
 His checquered journey complete, for some 
 time the quill supplied the means of subsist- 
 ence, until the long- vacation of attornies and 
 all dependent on them, stopped for a time 
 the course of cash, that friend of all friends, 
 without which none can be said to live. 
 Munden, in later days, remembering his early 
 distress, was accustomed to say, in the strong- 
 language which he sometimes used : " By G d, 
 Sir, a man's best friend is a guinea !" 
 
 At this moment of necessity, Munden be- 
 came acquainted with the manager of a 
 strolling company, then assembled at Lether- 
 head, in Surrey : he entered his name among 
 the list ; and under the banner of this thea- 
 tric monarch, he set off, possessed of the 
 amazing- sum of thirteen pence. 
 
 As the reader may reasonably suppose, the 
 thirteen pence was nearly exhausted in a jour- 
 ney of eighteen miles. He found the theatre 
 a barn, the stage manager making the neces- 
 sary arrangements, whilst the prompter was 
 occupied in sweeping- down the cobwebs, and 
 clearing away the refuse of corn and straw 
 on the floor. Munden wanted money: the 
 manager had none, and the actor's watch was 
 pawned for support. 
 
 The following night was appointed for a 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 13 
 
 performance ; the rehearsal over, the barn 
 floor cleared, planks erected, and saw-dust 
 strewed for the expected company : but in 
 vain was the barn floor cleared, in vain the 
 saw-dust strewed, the audience were nil ! 
 At length a play was bespoke by a gen- 
 tleman in the neighbourhood for Saturday 
 night, which being a night of fashion, the 
 audience assembled, and the profits of the 
 evening allowed to each performer six shil- 
 lings ! besides having paid off incidental ex- 
 penses incurred by the failure of the two 
 unfortunate nights. To this good luck may 
 be added the saving of two small pieces of 
 candle. This was the maximum of money Joe 
 M unden had yet gained by acting; but such 
 amazing good fortune could not be expected 
 to last long. The theatre, after this, was 
 poorly attended ; and had it not been for 
 a custom* which prevailed among itinerant 
 companies, of the performers delivering the 
 play-bills themselves round the neighbour- 
 hood, and who, on such occasions, were styled 
 
 * A near relative of the writer, a great many years ago ? 
 saw the afterwards celebrated and wealthy Mrs. Siddons walk- 
 ing up and down both sides of a street, in a provincial town, 
 dressed in a red woollen cloak, such as was formerly worn 
 by menial servants, and knocking at each door to deliver the 
 play-bill of her benefit. Roger Kemble, the father, was 
 Manager of a Strolling Company, in which Mr. and Mrs. 
 Siddons performed. The Company consisted principally of 
 the Kemble family. 
 
MEMOIRS OF 
 
 orators, and for which service he gained one 
 shilling, poor Munden would have sunk into 
 his former distress. 
 
 The theatre was burnt down. Joseph 
 wrote a petition in the best style of Tomkins, 
 and a collection was made, which amounted 
 to between twenty and thirty pounds. The 
 manager dealt five shillings a-piece to about 
 twelve members, and, under the pretence of 
 going to London to furnish a wardrobe for the 
 Guilford Theatre, left a part of his troop at 
 Letherhead, in vain to expect his return. 
 
 Munden's next performance was at Wal- 
 lingford in Berkshire ; thence to Windsor 
 and Colnbrook : here again the manager de- 
 serted his company. He then returned, like 
 the prodigal son, to the abode of his pa- 
 rents ; but the fatal bias still existing, he 
 performed in private plays at the Haymar- 
 ket Theatre. 
 
 At one of these representations, Hurst, the 
 Canterbury manager, saw his promise, and 
 engaged him for the season. At this period 
 (1780) Munden began to emerge from his 
 difficulties. The line he was to figure in 
 was that of second parts in tragedy and 
 comedy ; but for want of a comedian, he 
 was persuaded to attempt the first line in 
 low comedy. His success was equal to 
 his wishes, and he left Canterbury with the 
 good will and applause of its inhabitants. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 15 
 
 His companion from Canterbury was Mr. 
 Swords, subsequently of the Haymarket The- 
 atre, who, after enacting Alexander the 
 Great, Julius Caesar, and the tyrant Rich- 
 ard at the Canterbury theatre, was obliged, 
 with Munden, to take his passage from that 
 city to London in a cart. In the course 
 of their journey, the former exclaimed, 
 " Tap my eyes when you are at Covent- 
 Garden and I at Drury-lane (for you know 
 we shall be too eminent to be both retain- 
 ed by one house), what will the theatrical bi- 
 ographers say, when they hear that the great 
 Billy Swords and the great Joe Munden rode 
 from Canterbury to London in a cart" Swords 
 had but one pair of boots, which, when of red 
 morocco, had graced the boards, but were now 
 blackened for general use. Time having done 
 his worst with them, they were daily taken to 
 the cobbler for repair. One day when the 
 little drab girl who conveyed them approach- 
 ed the cobbler's stall, he took up his last in 
 auger, shook it at her, and bade her begone ; 
 swearing he would have the job no more, as 
 he lost money by the time expended on the 
 reparation. 
 
 Munden afterwards went to Brighton, where 
 again he met with indulgence and patronage. 
 About this time a performer of some conse- 
 quence in the company of Messrs. Austin and 
 Whitlock, at Chester, dying, Munden was ap- 
 
16 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 plied to; the preferred terms were accepted, 
 and he supplied the place of the deceased come- 
 dian. From Chester he went to Whitehaven by 
 sea, his finances not permitting- him to go by 
 land. Here success still followed him. From 
 Whitehaven the company repaired to Newcas- 
 tle-upon-Tyne. After a stay of three months, 
 he visited Lancaster and Preston. He likewise 
 played at Manchester, still rising- in the esti- 
 mation of his audience. 
 
 He had engaged as a performer with a low 
 salary, but his general good conduct, attention 
 to the business of the theatre, and evident 
 ability, raised him high in the estimation of 
 the Chester audience. A gentleman, whose 
 memory is still highly esteemed in Chester, and 
 who survived to see his protege in the highest 
 rank of his profession, lent him the money to 
 purchase Mr. Austin's share (that gentleman 
 being desirous of retiring) of the circuit of the 
 theatres, of which Chester formed the prin- 
 cipal. The money was punctually repaid. 
 Munden thus became joint-manager and lessee, 
 with Mr. Whitlock, of the Chester, Newcastle, 
 Lancaster, Preston, Warrington, and Sheffield 
 theatres. Mr. Austin continued to reside at 
 Chester as a private gentleman. It is a sin- 
 gular circumstance, that, many years after- 
 wards, after having been widely separated, the 
 three managers took up their abode in the 
 same village Kentish-Town, near London. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 17 
 
 Never has it been the fortune of a provincial 
 (and seldom of a metropolitan) theatre to 
 possess such a company of able actors, as 
 were then on the boards of the Chester theatre. 
 
 The principal tragedian was George Fre- 
 derick Cooke,* a name afterwards so renowned, 
 then in the prime of life ; with powers said to 
 be superior to those he afterwards evinced, 
 and a voice as mellifluous as it became, in the 
 end, hoarse from intemperance. Mrs. Whit- 
 lock was the tragic heroine. This lady is 
 reported to have trodden closely in the steps 
 of her sister Mrs. Siddons, whom she greatly 
 resembled in her commanding figure, dignified 
 attitude, and expressive intonation, but she 
 was not handsome. Mrs. Whitlock subse- 
 quently appeared on the London boards, but 
 was borne down by the surpassing talent of the 
 greatest of past and present actresses, as her 
 brother Charles was, for many years, eclipsed 
 
 * Cooke had then begun to indulge in his favourite propensity. 
 On the occasion of the company's removal from one town to 
 another, Cooke accompanied Mrs. Munden in a post-chaise. 
 He was exceedingly sentimental ; decried the fatal effects of 
 liquor. " Never, my dear Mrs. Munden," said he, " permit 
 my friend Joe to drink to excess , but above all things make 
 him refrain from spirits : brandy and water has been my bane." 
 They separated for the night to their different quarters. In 
 the morning Cook did not come to rehearsal. Search was 
 made after him in every direction ; and, with some difficulty, he 
 was discovered lying dead drunk on the floor of a subterranean 
 wine vault. 
 
18 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 by the superior genius of John Kemble. There 
 is a portrait of Mrs. Whitlock in Bell's Bri- 
 tish Theatre, in Margaret of Anjou. She 
 afterwards went to America, where she was a 
 great favourite, and amassed a handsome for- 
 tune. The chief comedian was Joseph Shep- 
 herd Munden, then remarkably good-looking, 
 and in the full possession of buoyant spirits 
 and exuberant humour. Mr. Whitlock per- 
 formed the lighter parts in comedy, Mr. 
 Hodgkinson, played those parts which Lewis 
 and Jones represented on the London boards, 
 and is said to have been little inferior to those 
 excellent actors. Mr. Austin,* who formed 
 one of the company when Munden first joined 
 it, had been greatly in the confidence of Gar- 
 rick, who trusted to him not only in matters 
 of a professional nature, but as a private 
 
 * Austin used to relate, that in walking up the stage with 
 Garrick, until the burst of applause which followed one of his 
 displays in Lear should subside, the great actor thrust his 
 tongue in his cheek, and said, with a chuckle, "Joe, this is 
 stage feeling." In like manner, Mrs. Siddons, after rushing off 
 the stage in, apparently, the most excruciating anguish, in Bel- 
 videra, or Mrs. Beverly, was accustomed to walk quietly to 
 the green-room, thrusting up her nose enormous quantities of 
 snuff with the greatest nonchalance imaginable. After com- 
 mending Kelly's acting in the Deserter, she gravely added, 
 " but, Kelly, you feel too much : if you feel so strongly, you 
 will never make an actor." True it is, that an actor who plays 
 from feeling, will play worse at every successive representa- 
 tion, until he will be unable to act at all. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 19 
 
 friend. Mr. Austin excelled in the part of 
 Lord Ogleby. It must be presumed that he 
 was not an ordinary actor, since he had played 
 Edgar to Garrick's Lear. He was the last 
 surviving hero of the Rosciad, in which he is 
 immortalised by one line : 
 
 " Austin would always glisten in French silks." 
 
 Among the actresses was Miss Butler, whose 
 history will be related hereafter, and Mrs. 
 Hun, the mother of the celebrated George 
 Canning. This lady, whose maiden name was 
 Costello, occasioned, by her marriage with the 
 father of Mr. Canning, a breach between that 
 gentleman and his relatives which was never 
 healed : he entered in the Temple, but died in 
 indifferent circumstances. Her second hus- 
 band was Mr. Reddish of Covent Garden 
 Theatre, and her third Mr. Hun, by whom she 
 had two daughters. Being unsuccessful in 
 business, they resorted to the stage for subsis- 
 tence, Mr. Canning being then a boy at 
 school, under the protection of his uncle. Mr. 
 Munden was god-father to one of the daugh- 
 ters. Mr. Canning, on his secession from 
 office, in 1802, became entitled to a retiring 
 pension and settled it on his relatives. It is 
 honourable to the memory oi that great States- 
 man, that, amidst his struggles for political ad- 
 vancement, and the bitter warfare of party 
 animosity, he never forgot his duty to his 
 
20 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 mother. He duly corresponded with her, never 
 omitting to write to her on Sunday, which he 
 set aside for that purpose, as the only day he 
 could count a leisure one. So invariably 
 punctual was he, that, during his mission to 
 Lisbon, not being always able to transmit 
 his letters regularly, he still continued to write, 
 and sent sometimes two letters by the same 
 packet. Mrs. Hun is dead ; but the letters 
 are probably in existence : it is to be hoped 
 they will, at some future period, be given to 
 the world, divested, of course, of all matters of 
 a personal or confidential nature. We ought 
 not to lose " one drop of that immortal man." 
 Mrs. Hun was an indifferent actress, but a 
 sensible and well-informed woman. 
 
 Mrs. Sparkes performed the characters of 
 old women. This lady subsequently played at 
 the Lyceum and Drury-lane. She was inferior 
 in her line only to Mrs. Mattocks and Mrs. 
 Davenport. 
 
 There was another actress, of whom mention 
 must be made, as she exercised a large influ- 
 ence over the fortunes of Munden. She played 
 under the name of Mrs. Munden, but her real 
 name was Mary Jones. She possessed some 
 beauty, but was vulgar and illiterate in the 
 extreme. In the wild thoughtlessness of youth, 
 when the looseness of his habits did not afford 
 an introduction to respectable female society, 
 Munden had formed a connection with this 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 21" 
 
 woman. When he had a settled abode at 
 Chester, he sent for her, and had the impru- 
 dence to introduce her as his wife. By his 
 consummate skill in his profession he had con- 
 trived to instruct her sufficiently to render her 
 competent to play minor parts, and to prevent 
 an exposure of her ignorance on the stage. 
 By Mary Jones, Munden had four daughters, 
 when the event took place which we are now 
 about to relate. 
 
 In the year 1789, this wretched female, with 
 whom he had so long cohabited, and who had 
 borne him so many children, eloped with Mr. 
 Hodgkinson, carrying with her thirty guineas 
 of his money, his daughter Esther, and a child 
 yet unborn. Munden had long suspected that 
 some familiarities existed between the parties, 
 and had called Mr. Hodgkinson to account, 
 but the fact was denied. A vile scrawl which 
 she left behind her, addressed to Mr. Whitlock, 
 apprized Munden of the step which she had 
 taken. After many entreaties to soothe and 
 calm him, which, indeed, were not needed, she 
 adds " I likewise inclose a leter wich I beg 
 give him also the lisd of his property with 
 many thanks for your frenship for 9 years." 
 Mr. Hodgkinson also wrote to Mr. Whitlock, 
 attempting to justify his own conduct, and 
 throw the blame on Munden. This precious 
 couple were married at Bath, the female being 
 in the last state of pregnancy ; but Hodgkinson 
 
22 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 soon found out what a bargain he had got, and 
 separated from her at Bristol, embarking for 
 America with an actress of the name of Brett. 
 Previous t6 his departure, he addressed a letter 
 to Munden, begging him to take care of the 
 children: Mrs. Hodgkinson had been deli- 
 vered at Bristol of a boy, which she christened 
 Valentine Joseph. Hodgkinson stated can- 
 didly, that his wife, " by the worst temper in 
 the world, had brought misery on them both," 
 and added, " Justice demands I should acknow- 
 ledge it (the connection) has terminated as it 
 ought, and I dare say as it was expected." 
 Many years afterwards, the lady who became 
 Mrs. Munden, taking her seat in a box at her 
 husband^s benefit, observed a face that was 
 familiar to her close by her side : it was Hodg- 
 kinson. He did not recognise her, and she 
 immediately removed to another box. He had 
 returned from America, where he had played 
 with great success ; but soon afterwards went 
 back, and died there. The poor creature he 
 left behind at Bristol was taken dangerously 
 ill, and became penitent. In her last mo- 
 ments she begged a person with whom she had 
 lodged to write to Mrs. Munden, which was 
 done in these terms : u Before she died, she 
 told me that I should soon come to her funeral. 
 She said, ' You will some time have an oppor- 
 tunity of letting the injured Munden know how 
 sensible I am of my ingratitude to him. Oh ! 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 23 
 
 say 'tis the greatest affliction I labour under : 
 sure he will forgive me ! And to that amiable 
 woman, who is a mother to my children, tell 
 her my prayers are daily, nay hourly, sent up 
 for her happiness/ r To the credit of Munderi 
 be it said, that he supplied her with money 
 during her illness, paid for her burial, and took 
 care of the two children, whom he sent to be 
 nursed at Newcastle with their infant sisters. 
 
 This event had well nigh shaken Munden's 
 popularity at Chester, as it drew aside the veil 
 of his pretended matrimony. He acted, how- 
 ever, like a man of sense and determination ; 
 attempted no pursuit admitted his error and 
 set about repairing it, by getting married in 
 earnest. His choice fell on Miss Butler, a 
 young actress of merit, and considerable per- 
 sonal attractions, who had been some time in 
 the company. 
 
 Miss Frances Butler had been born to af- 
 fluence. She was a lineal descendant from 
 Wollaston, the author of the " Religion of 
 Nature," and consequently nearly related to 
 Dr. Wollaston, head master of the Charter- 
 House, and Dr. Wollaston, the great che- 
 mist, the discoverer of the metals palladium 
 and rhodium, and the method of rendering 
 platina malleable. Her father, a private gen- 
 tleman of landed property, usually resided 
 at one of his estates near Lutterworth, in 
 Leicestershire. He had two sons apprenticed 
 
24 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 at Birmingham. When they were out of their 
 time he was induced, with the view of bringing 
 them forward in the world, to remove to Bir- 
 mingham, and enter into trade as what was 
 there termed a merchant, taking them, and 
 another person acquainted with the business, 
 into partnership. The extravagance of the 
 former, and ill conduct of the latter, soon 
 brought him into the Gazette. He staid some 
 time at Litchfield and then repaired to London, 
 where he shortly afterwards died. Miss Butler 
 maintained her mother by working at millinery 
 and embroidery. She was at length persuaded 
 by some friends to try the stage, and made her 
 first appearance at the Lewes Theatre, on the 
 28th July, 1785, as Louisa Dudley, in the 
 " West Indian." Osborn, the Lewes manager, 
 afterwards obtained the Coventry Theatre. 
 Miss Butler, being thus thrown among her 
 father's old connections, was much patronized 
 at her benefit. She was afterwards engaged, 
 at the particular instance of some respectable 
 townspeople at Birmingham, by the celebrated 
 comedian, Yates,* the manager there ; subse- 
 
 * Miss Butler called on Yates at his residence at Pimlico. 
 The manager requested a specimen of her abilities. After she 
 had recited a speech, Yates repeated the speech himself, com- 
 menting as he went on. On a sudden the folding-doors were 
 burst open, and in rushed Mrs. Yates. She was one of the 
 greatest of Mrs. Siddons' predecessors, and had been the rival 
 of Mrs. Crawford. Turning to her husband, she said, in an 
 angry tone, " What do you teach the young woman in that 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 25 
 
 quently at Lichfield, where she received much 
 kindness from Miss Seward, the distinguished 
 poetess ; and was favoured with a letter of 
 introduction from Mr. George Garrick, brother 
 to the Roscius, for the purpose of presenting- a 
 MS. play. When she had an opportunity of 
 delivering the letter to Mr. Garrick, at his 
 house in the Adelphi, that eminent man had 
 retired from all interference with theatricals. 
 He told Miss Butler that he had not recom- 
 mended a play to the theatre since the appear- 
 ance of Miss Hannah More's " Percy." He 
 conversed with her for a considerable time, and 
 with great affability. She had also an inter- 
 view with Mr. Sheridan on the same subject. 
 Her last removal was to the company of 
 Messrs. Austin and Whitlock, where she met 
 with Mr. Munden. In all these journeys, and 
 during all her performances, she was accom- 
 panied by, and watched over with parental 
 care by her mother. Munden was united in 
 marriage to Miss Butler, at the Parish Church 
 of St. Oswald, in Chester, on the 20th of Octo- 
 ber, 1789, in the presence of Mr. and Mrs. 
 Whitlock. Whilst absent on the wedding 
 excursion, Mrs. Munden's mother, from whom 
 she had not been separated before for years, 
 
 foolish way for ? Listen, Miss ; speak the speech as I pro- 
 nounce it :" and, though then a coarse old woman, bedaubed 
 with rouge, she delivered it with an energy which proved that 
 the fire of genius was not all extinguished. 
 
 C 
 
26 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 was suddenly taken ill at Chester, and died. 
 Her affectionate daughter, in a diary of that 
 date, bitterly laments that she was not present 
 to close her eyes, terming- herself " a bride and 
 orphan within a month ! " After her marriage, 
 Mrs. Munden quitted the stage. 
 
 By his wife Munden had two children a 
 boy who died an infant and is buried at Lan- 
 caster, and the writer of the present narra- 
 tive : but Mrs. Munden, compassionating the 
 helpless condition of her husband's illegiti- 
 mate children, and the prospect of their be- 
 ing consigned to obscurity, not many years 
 afterwards took them to her home, tended 
 them in infancy, like her own offspring, saw 
 that they were properly educated, and, by 
 her respectable sanction, elevated them to a 
 station in society, through which two of the 
 daughters formed happy and wealthy alli- 
 ances in marriage. One of them, who died 
 some years ago, was a lady of extreme beauty 
 and most amiable disposition. Valentine, 
 the son, an ingenuous and brave young man, 
 rose to the rank of chief mate in the East 
 India Company's naval service. Although 
 in a merchantman, he was three times in ac- 
 tion. He ruptured a blood vessel off Saint 
 Helena, whilst in the active discharge of his 
 duty in command of the vessel during a gale 
 of wind ; was landed on the island, and, dy- 
 ing soon afterwards, was followed to his 
 grave by the military and naval officers on 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 27 
 
 the station. No stone or monument marks 
 the spot where his remains rest, though some- 
 thing of the kind might have been looked for 
 at the hands of those connected with him by 
 the ties of relationship. These children, of 
 whom only one survives, testified a grateful 
 sense of the obligations they were under to 
 Mrs. Munden, with one exception*. 
 
 Returning to Chester, Munden, who had 
 led hitherto a free life, now moored "in the 
 calm haven of domestic bliss," settled down 
 into quiet habits. The theatre was profit- 
 able, and he began to save money. He re- 
 ceived great attention from the neighbouring 
 gentry : amongst other compliments paid to 
 him was an invitation from the late Earl 
 Grosvenor to some private theatricals at 
 Eaton Hall. He used to describe these per- 
 formances as ludicrous in the extreme. The 
 noble actors and actresses, accustomed to 
 tread in drawing rooms with perfect ease, no 
 sooner found themselves on the stage than 
 they were thoroughly embarrassed : they did 
 not know what to do with their arms, and 
 could not contrive to get off the stage with- 
 
 * Truth obliges me to state that the exception is the survi- 
 vor, a lady of fortune, who, when her benefactress was labor- 
 ing under the affliction of blindness, and extreme old age (she 
 was then above 80), neither visited nor enquired after her, 
 for some years previous to her death, nor sought her forgive- 
 ness in her dying moments ! T. S. M. 
 
 G 2 
 
28 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 out turning- their backs to the audience. 
 Even Lord Belgrave (the present Marquis 
 of Westminster), then an elegant young- man, 
 in addressing- the audience to apologize for a 
 delay in the performance, occasioned by the 
 detention of some of the aristocratical per- 
 formers in a snow storm, committed the 
 gaucherie of commencing with " Gentlemen 
 and Ladies ;" but Munden said he played 
 very well, and he was the only one that 
 did so. It is to be hoped that the theatricals 
 at Bridgewater House are better managed ; 
 otherwise Mrs. Bradshaw must be sadly 
 confused. An illustrious personage is said 
 to have enquired of one of the colleagues of 
 an amiable and intelligent nobleman who is 
 fond of acting, what sort of an actor he 
 was ? " A very bad one, Madam," is the re- 
 ported reply of the Minister ; " Ne sutor y #." 
 
 In 1790 died, the, as he is called in the 
 records of the times, " inimitable Edwin. " 
 Very little is preserved which can give us a 
 notion of his peculiar qualities. A writer, 
 who seems to understand his subject, de- 
 scribes him as " a thin, tidy, dollish kind of 
 man, with a quizzical, drollish air. He acted 
 a sort of Fribble, a weak-headed dandy of 
 those times. There was a quaintness about 
 his manner which took possession of the town, 
 although, in general, he played solely to the 
 upper classes the gallery." He must have 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 29 
 
 been much better than this criticism de- 
 scribes, for few comedians ever carried the 
 town so far with them as Edwin did. It is 
 undoubted that he was one of the best comic 
 singers that ever trod the stage. The sub- 
 joined original letter will show that he was 
 not a man of much education or refined feel- 
 ing* He is said to have been as fond of 
 raising the glass to his lips as Cooke was. 
 The late Stephen Kemble once asked ra- 
 ther jesuitically, if Cooke did not owe much 
 of his celebrity to this vice and his utter 
 disdain of public opinion. There might be 
 something in this insinuation. The crowds 
 who flocked to see Richard the Third, and Sir 
 
 * DEAR MARY, 
 
 I wrote to you by the post before dinner 
 to-day, in answer to your letter of eleven o'clock this morn- 
 ing, but fearing, as I wrote it in hurry, I might say some- 
 thing to displease you, I write again to request the favor of 
 your company at Mrs. P 's to night to explain myself, and 
 you may rest assured I will not say anything to displease 
 you. I wish to explain myself entirely to you. I am not in 
 the farce, and will go to Leicester Street as soon as I have 
 finished in the play. Your letter has made me unhappy. Oh, 
 dearest love, think how much I esteem and admire you. 
 I would do every thing for you. I love and adore you. My 
 heart bleeds when I reflect on your displeasure, and can never 
 be happy but in your smiles. Reflect on my truth and love, 
 and be certain of my honor and my friendship. Do not be so 
 easy to be offended. Come to me, and continue to love. 
 
 EDWIN. 
 
 Tuesday, Six o'clock. 
 
 To the only one that is loved by EDWIN. 
 
SO MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Pertinax Macsycophant were always in doubt 
 whether fhey should have value for the price 
 of their admission ; since it was an even 
 chance that, before the curtain rose, an 
 apology would be made for Mr. Cooke, who 
 was suffering under " violent spasms." This, 
 unquestionably, created excitement, and ren- 
 dered him a rarity, which his more regular 
 rival, Kemble, was not. When he did ap- 
 pear, the rapture of the audience knew no 
 bounds. In a similar way Edwin, as is des- 
 cribed by the writer before referred to, " was 
 brought to the stage door, senseless and mo- 
 tionless, at the bottom of a chaise. Brandon 
 was then called in as practising physician. 
 If they could put on him the proper dress, 
 and push him to the lamps he rubbed his 
 stupid eyes for a minute ; consciousness and 
 quaint humour awoke together ; and he seemed 
 to play the better for it." Be that as it may, 
 the public thought Edwin a great actor, and 
 great without doubt he was, for the public 
 are seldom wrong.* 
 
 * The Gazetteer, and New Daily Advertiser for Friday, 
 26th November, 1790, contains the following : 
 
 LINES EXTEMPORE ON THE DEATH OF EDWIN. 
 
 Here, master of the comic art, 
 
 Who ne'er in vain that art applied, ^ 
 
 Lies Edwin ! fmish'd now his part, 
 
 He gave hut sorrow when he died. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 31 
 
 This huge void in the green-room it seemed 
 impossible to fill. It happened that Mr. 
 Const, (the late chairman of the Clerkenwell 
 Sessions) who held a share in Covent Garden 
 theatre, had a liaison with Miss Chapman, an 
 actress respectable in her line. Miss Chap- 
 man, having frequently played with Munden 
 in the country, spoke warmly of his merits, 
 and strongly pressed Mr. Const to engage 
 Munden to supply the place of Edwin. Mr. 
 Const wrote to the country manager to offer 
 him 4, .5, and 6 per week ; the answer, as 
 reported in Mr. Bunn's book is perfectly true : 
 " I cant think of it, Sir ; it is too much, it is 
 indeed. I shall never be able to gain you as 
 much." Miss Chapman's friendship went fur- 
 ther. She remonstrated with her friend, and 
 strongly urged that to render the new actor 
 
 Failings he proved the human lot, 
 
 Let pity shed a kindly tear ; 
 For ah ! when these shall be forgot, 
 
 Shall mirth hang drooping o'er his bier. 
 
 Too late departed worth we prize, 
 
 To living merit oft unkind ; 
 Regret exclaims with sad surprise, 
 
 He has not left his like behind. 
 
 The same newspaper contains an announcement under- 
 neath the Covent Garden Bill ; " On Thursday, Mr. Munden 
 will make his first appearance on this stage, in the characters 
 of Sir Francis Gripe, and Jemmy Jumps, in the comedy of 
 the Busy Body, and the opera of the Farmer." 
 
82 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 of value to the theatre, he ought to have 
 more, at least sufficient to entitle him to the 
 entree of the principal green-room. The sal- 
 ary, it is believed, was finally fixed at 8 per 
 week. Munden came to London with his 
 wife, having previously disposed of his share 
 in the country theatres to Mr. Stephen Kem- 
 ble. He took lodgings at the corner of Por- 
 tugal Street, Clare Market, now a coal-shed. 
 Here, again, Miss Chapman's foresight inter- 
 posed. She called upon him on his arrival, 
 and looking round the rooms, said : " Mun- 
 den, you must not live here, these lodgings 
 are not sufficiently respectable for you." He, 
 consequently, removed to Catherine Street, in 
 the Strand, where he occupied apartments at 
 the house of Mr. Steel, who was afterwards so 
 barbarously murdered on Hounslow Heath. 
 
 Munden determined to " take the bull by 
 the horns," as the phrase is, and at once to 
 measure his strength with the memory of the 
 defunct comedian in one of his best parts.* 
 
 * The annexed is a copy of the original play bill : 
 THEATRE ROYAL, COVENT GARDEN. 
 This present Thursday, Dec. 2, 1790, will be presented a 
 
 Comedy, called 
 THE BUSY BODY. 
 Marplot, Mr. Lewis. 
 
 Sir G. Airy, Mr. Holman. 
 
 Sir Jealous Traffic, Mr. Thompson. 
 
 Charles Gripe, Mr. Macready. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 33 
 
 On entering upon the stage he was received 
 with much applause, which he bore with great 
 presence of mind ; but was for a moment dis- 
 concerted by observing an old Newcastle ac- 
 quaintance in the centre of the pit, standing 
 on the bench, waving, in the enthusiasm of the 
 moment, his wig above his head, and bawl- 
 ing out, " Bravo, Joe Munden !" This well 
 meaning person had, previously, made his way 
 to his dressing-room whilst the new actor was 
 
 Whisper, Mr. Bernard. 
 
 Sir Francis Gripe, Mr. Munden. 
 
 (Being his first appearance in that character.) 
 Isabinda, Mrs. Mountain. 
 
 Patch, Mrs. Harlowe, 
 
 Scentwell, Mrs. Platt. 
 
 Miranda, Mrs. Pope. 
 
 (Being her first appearance in that character.) 
 
 End of the Play, a Dance, called 
 
 THE WAPPING LANDLADY. 
 
 To which will be added the Comic Opera of 
 
 THE FARMER. 
 
 Jemmy Jumps, Mr. Munden. 
 
 Valentine, Mr. Johnstone. 
 
 Hundy, Mr. Blanchard. 
 
 Dormant, Mr. Hull. 
 
 Fairly, Mr. Thompson. 
 
 Farmer Stubble, Mr. Powell. 
 
 Blackberry (first time), Mr. Bannister. 
 
 Molly May bush, Mrs. Martyr. 
 
 Louisa, Mrs. Mountain. 
 
 Landlady, Mrs. Platt. 
 
 Betty Blackberry, Mrs. Mattocks. 
 
 c 5 
 
34 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 dressing- in a state of nervous excitement, and 
 bursting in, addressed him in these terms, 
 giving* him a hearty slap on the shoulder by 
 way of encouragement : " Now, Joey, my boy, 
 shew-em what thee art, for the honor of New- 
 castle !" The success of the debutant is thus 
 described by Mr. Boaden (Life of Kemble) : 
 
 " On December 2, 1790, Mr. Munden, an actor of great 
 provincial celebrity, made his first bow at Covent Garden 
 Theatre, in the character of Sir Francis Gripe, in the Busy 
 Body. Since the days of Shuter nothing had been so rich, 
 for Wilson was not a tythe of him ; and his mind seemed 
 teeming with every surprise of comic humour, which his 
 features expressed by an incessant diversity of playful action, 
 and his utterance conveyed in an articulation of much force 
 and neatness. He was received by a very crowded house with 
 triumphant applause ; and, with the proper confidence of a 
 great master of his art, he acted in the farce also, the facetious 
 Jemmy Jumps. Here he felt some alarm from the recent 
 impression of poor Edwin ; but he was above imitation, and 
 played from himself so peculiarly and divertingly that he 
 pleased even those who could not think him equal to Edwin ; 
 and although the latter was a master in musical science, 
 Munden sang the 'Fair-haired Lassie' in a style so powerful, 
 as to shew that burletta had gained in him nearly as much as 
 comedy." 
 
 A more moderate criticism is given in a 
 cotemporary newspaper, the Public Advertiser 
 of Dec. 3, 1790 : 
 
 COVENT GARDEN. 
 
 " Mr. Munden, a gentleman who had acquired much cele- 
 brity in many of the provincial theatres for his comic talents^ 
 yesterday made his first appearance in the character of Sir 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 35 
 
 Francis Gripe, in Mrs. Centlivre's comedy of the ' Busy 
 Body,' and in Jemmy Jumps, in the ( Farmer.' 
 
 " Mr. Munden evinced a considerable share of ability in 
 Sir Francis Gripe, and though labouring under the disadvan- 
 tages of a muscular form, joined to a powerful voice, contrived 
 to make a very favourable impression upon the audience. His 
 conception of the character was correct, and he played in a 
 style of chaste and dry humour, rather than with great force 
 of comic colouring. 
 
 " Mr. Munden afterwards appeared in Jemmy Jumps. To 
 follow the late Mr. Edwin with success, extraordinary talents 
 are requisite. This gentleman, considering the great drawback 
 the name of his predecessor will have upon the performance of 
 the person who succeeds him, made a very tolerable stand in 
 the character. In some parts he reminded us strongly of the 
 original, and in others he played from himself, and with 
 deserved applause. His tavern scene, in particular, was 
 excellently acted. 
 
 " Upon the whole, we think this gentlemen will prove an 
 useful addition to the company, though we do not think his 
 abilities of that very powerful nature which the sanguine 
 reports of his friends had given us reason to expect. He was 
 extremely well received by a most numerous and elegant 
 audience." 
 
 Munden's success was, indeed, complete and 
 immediate. The public and the critics were 
 alike satisfied. Of the latter, Anthony Pas- 
 quin alone carped ; and wrote an epigram, in 
 the last line of which he asserted, 
 
 " He is neither the Quick nor the dead." * 
 
 * Of course this allusion was to Quick and Edwin. An- 
 thony Pasquin, (or as his real name was) John Williams, was 
 the most degraded of human beings ; he wrote only for the 
 
36 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The actors hailed him as a brother. The 
 veteran comedian King-, writing 1 shortly after- 
 purpose of extorting money, and defamed every thing and 
 every body that was venerable in the land. He published the 
 "Children of Thespis," a bad imitation of Churchill's "Ros- 
 ciad," and gave to the world from time to time extracts from 
 a MS. poem, entitled the " Kembliad," which he pretended 
 to have written, no doubt in the hope of forcing a bribe from 
 Mr. Kemble for its suppression ; a hope which, assuredly, he 
 did not realize. Mr. Adolphus states, that after partaking of 
 John Bannister's hospitality, he proceeded to some den in 
 the neighbourhood to pen a foul attack on him. He wrote 
 to Mrs. Martyr, with a threat, for a set of shirts, and obtained 
 them. He had the impudence to bring an action against Mr. 
 Gifford for a libel on him in the Baviad, or the Maeviad, which 
 alluded to " the rank fume of Tony Pasquin's brains ;" but 
 got so severely handled by Garrow, that he judged it expedient 
 to proceed to the United States of America. Cobbett, who 
 was there at the time, enacting Peter Porcupine, alludes in 
 language, as coarse as the subject he treated of, to his arrival : 
 " They tell me that dirty fellow, Anthony Pasquin, has come 
 here. I have often heard say, that people like their own stink, 
 but I never heard they liked another's stink, so I trust they 
 will drag him through the Hudson, to make him clean before 
 they allow him to land." Williams afterwards returned to 
 England, abused Sir Walter Scott and Edmund Kean, until 
 the newspapers would have nothing to do with him. He died 
 in a garret near Tottenham-court-road. From Munden he 
 never got a farthing, though he afterwards paid much court to 
 him. It was Munden's habit never to reply to a newspaper 
 attack. " If I do," he said, very sensibly, " I play into their 
 hands, and raise a nest of hornets around me. If I do not, 
 they'll fall upon somebody else to-morrow, and I shall be 
 forgotten," 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 37 
 
 wards to Mr. Austin, spoke of him in these 
 terms : " Munden is a great favourite with 
 the public, and with me also, but they have 
 given him a hint lately about improving Shake- 
 speare in Dogberry." 
 
 Thus was the highest object attained which a 
 provincial actor covets, to fill first rate parts 
 on the London boards, and to have his merits 
 appreciated by the acknowledged criterion of 
 English taste. 
 
38 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Munden's Competitors Second-rate parts Cockletop and 
 Elia Tippy Bob The Road to Ruin Munden's first 
 great original part Criticisms on his acting in Old Dorn- 
 ton Conviviality in the last century Munden's Polonius 
 Mrs. Inchbald O'Keefe Munden and Bannister chosen 
 Parish Constables The Supper Club Lord Barrymore 
 Peter Pindar's Epigram A troublesome neighbour 
 Munden's house on fire Removal to Kentish Town The 
 Jolly Thieves A pleasant party in Bow Street A careful 
 servant and another fire George the Third and Captain 
 Fraser John Kemble, Colman and the Iron Chest Mun- 
 den, Kemble and Falstaff Caustic, Brummagem, and old 
 Rapid Death of Mrs. Pope and retirement of Miss Farren. 
 
 MUNDEN found Mr. Quick in possession of 
 the best parts, as was justly his due, from 
 priority, admitted talent, and high favour with 
 the public. At Covent Garden was, also, 
 Wilson: at Drury Lane, King 1 , Parsons, and 
 Suett, fearful competitors to contend with : 
 however, he studied carefully, played what 
 was set down for him, and lost no ground. 
 It is a great mistake of actors to suppose that 
 they derogate from their station in playing, 
 occasionally, second rate characters. In some 
 instances there may be reasons for such a 
 belief. Cooke used to remark, that in playing 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 39 
 
 lago to John Kemble's Othello, he felt the 
 difficulty of making- a point. " It seemed to 
 me/' he said, " as if I were a snail, which, 
 endeavouring- to issue from its shell, finds a 
 large stone impeding its progress." Without 
 taking 1 into account the great powers of his 
 antagonist, and the disparity between the parts, 
 it must be admitted by all who witnessed Mr. 
 Cooke's performance, that, although display- 
 ing great vigour in a portion of it, it was an 
 entire misconception of the character. It was 
 the very reverse of " honest, honest lago." 
 His villany was so apparent that it degraded 
 Othello from a confiding dupe to a credulous 
 dotard. The spectators wondered that he 
 could not discern what they saw the manifest 
 imposture. " If Cooke," said a gentleman of 
 great experience in theatricals, on leaving the 
 pit, " be right, Henderson must have been 
 sadly mistaken." Setting aside this digression, 
 it is really of benefit to a good actor to play 
 at times an inferior part. Granting that 
 vanity be wounded, the public perceive that 
 the talent which produces such effect, where 
 they have been accustomed to witness inanity, 
 must be extraordinary, and the whole tableau 
 is complete ; the actors play up to each other, 
 and wonderful is the emulation, when the one 
 in the superior part feels him in the inferior 
 treading on his kibe. Murray's performance 
 of the old man in the "Stranger," and (the 
 
40 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 late) Mr. Macready's delivery of the few 
 speeches in the small part of the Hosier, in 
 " The Road to Ruin," were cases in point; 
 they could not have obtained more applause 
 had they played Alexander the Great. Mun- 
 den, after filling- equal parts with his great 
 rivals, played, without a murmur, the first 
 carrier in " Henry IV.," to Wilson's Falstaff. 
 On the 4th Feb., 1791, he performed his 
 first original part, Sir Samuel Sheepy, in the 
 " School for Arrogance," by Holcroft. Hoi- 
 croft's politics, and an impression that Mr. 
 Harris was unfavourable to him, induced him 
 to request Marshall to father the piece. Feb. 16, 
 he played Lazarillo, in " Two Strings to your 
 bow," " never before acted in this kingdom." 
 March 14th, Frank, in " Modern Antiques/' a 
 new farce by O'Keefe. Cockletop, by Mr. 
 Quick. Munden's excellence in Cockletop, 
 which he, and he only, performed in later 
 days, is recorded in a chapter by Charles 
 Lamb, in language as eloquent as the criticism 
 is just and discriminative. It is useless to 
 transcribe it, for who has not read Elia ? Mr. 
 Lamb sent Munden the book with the annexed 
 inscription : 
 
 Mr. Lamb presents his respects to Mr. Munden, and begs 
 his acceptance of a volume, at the end of which he has ven- 
 tured a faint description of the pleasure he received from Mr. 
 Munden's acting. 
 
 20, Great- Russell-street, Covent- Garden. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 41 
 
 His next parts were Lovel, in " High Life 
 Below Stairs," and the 16th April, another 
 original part, Ephraiin Smooth, in " Wild 
 Oats,' 1 by O'Keefe, produced by Lewis for 
 his benefit ; May 2, Cassander, in " Alexan- 
 der the Little/ 1 for Quick's benefit ; for John- 
 stone's benefit, Pedrillo, in " The Castle of 
 Andalusia; 11 Mrs. Martyr's benefit, Daphne, 
 in " Midas Reversed, 1 ' and Sir David Drowsy, 
 in the " Dreamer Awake ;" Miss Brunton's 
 benefit, Tipple, in "The Flitch of Bacon f 
 Wilson's benefit, Young Quiz, in " Union, or 
 St. Andrew's Day," a farce written by Wilson 
 himself; May 19th, for his own benefit, Caleb, 
 in " He would be a Soldier," and, Darby, in 
 " Love in a Camp ;" in " Primrose Green, 11 a 
 farce not printed, for Mr. and Mrs. Bernard ; 
 June 6th, Camillo, in the " Double Falsehood. 11 
 At this period, Drury Lane was pulled down 
 for rebuilding, and the company performed at 
 the King's Theatre (Opera House). Sept. 
 12th, Munden played/first time, Ennui, in "The 
 Dramatist. 11 "The General Evening Post, 11 
 a newspaper of that period, alludes to his 
 performance in these terms : " Munden had 
 frequent applause in the performance of his 
 new character, Ennui, which he sustained with 
 more ease and discrimination than his prede- 
 cessor." Fawcett, from the ^York Theatre, 
 made his first appearance in Caleb, (He would 
 be a Soldier.) Munden, subsequently, played 
 
42 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the Gentleman Usher, in " King Lear ;" Lord 
 Jargon, in " Notoriety," a new comedy, by 
 Reynolds ; Lopez, in " Lover's Quarrels ;" 
 Mustapha, in " A Day in Turkey ;" and, Tippy 
 Bob,* in " Blue Beard, or the Flight of Har- 
 lequin :" Jan. 6th, 1792, the second Witch, in 
 " Macbeth ;" Meadows, in the " Deaf Lover ;" 
 Sebastian, in " The Midnight Hour." 
 
 On the 18th February, was performed, for 
 the first time, " The Road to Ruin," by Hoi- 
 croft ; and Munden appeared in the part which 
 formed the corner-stone of his fame. It is not 
 generally known that the original title of this 
 piece was " The City Prodigals." The mana- 
 ger, fearful of some party opposition, coun- 
 selled an alteration of the title, and Holcroft, 
 who, from the violent part he took in politics, 
 
 * There was a song called Tippy Bob, which Munden 
 rendered very popular by his style of singing it ; it ran as 
 follows : 
 
 My name is Tippy Bob, 
 With a watch in each fob, 
 
 View me round, view me round on each side and the top ; 
 If I 'm not the thing, 
 May I wish I may swing, 
 Since I 've got such a nice natty crop, natty crop. 
 
 As I walk through the lobby, 
 
 The girls cry out " Bobby, 
 " Here Bobby here Bobby my tippety Bob ;" 
 
 Such squeaking, such squalling, 
 
 Such pulling, such hauling, 
 Oh ! I can't get them out of my nob, of my nob. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 43 
 
 was in constant dread of an adverse audience 
 (one of his pieces having been stopped until 
 an assurance was given that it contained no- 
 thing political), readily consented to the alter- 
 ation. The part of Old Dornton was sent to 
 Mr. Quick (the writer has it in his posses- 
 sion with Mr. Quick's name, and the original 
 title of the play affixed) ; and Silky was as- 
 signed to Munden. As this was the first 
 opportunity of making a hit in a strong ori- 
 ginal part, Munden studied it deeply and care- 
 fully, and told his wife he felt confident of the 
 effect he could produce. Those who recollect 
 his performance of Sir Francis Gripe, will 
 readily believe that he had formed a just esti- 
 mate of his conception. What was his morti- 
 fication, when the part of Silky was withdrawn 
 from him, and that of Old Dornton substi- 
 tuted ! Mr. Quick, after much consideration, 
 deemed it was too sentimental for his cast of 
 characters, and, insisting upon the choice of 
 parts, which was his undoubted right, selected 
 Silky: he played it admirably. Munden, with 
 vexation and regret, and many a violent eja- 
 culation against the manager, received the new 
 part, and, in bitterness of spirit, sate down to 
 study it. He soon perceived the weapon he 
 had within his grasp. All former triumphs he 
 had achieved were whelmed in this great effort. 
 The power the pathos the deep, intense 
 feeling he threw into it, rendered it the chief, 
 
44 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the prominent part in the play. The original 
 cast was as follows : Goldfinch, Lewis ; Old 
 Dornton, Munden ; Harry Dornton, Holman ; 
 Silky, Quick ; Sulky, Wilson ; Milford, Har- 
 ley ; Mrs. Warren, Mrs. Mattocks ; Sophia, 
 Mrs. Merry ; Jenny, Mrs. Harlowe. " Mun- 
 den," says the 'Public Advertizer' (February 
 20th, 1792), " gave some of the fatherly tints 
 with great force and much judgment. The 
 tears of beauty were the best possible proofs of 
 his doing justice to the tender affection of a 
 fond parent." At a later period, when, per- 
 haps, his powers had become more mellow, he 
 is thus described : " His was an unique piece 
 of acting ; so full of feeling so imbued, even 
 in its most angry parts, with the milk of human 
 kindness that we despair of ever seeing its 
 parallel. In some of his scenes, the indignant 
 feelings of the man, softened down by the fond 
 affection of the father as oil thrown on the 
 turbulent waves is said to moderate their fury 
 presented as fine a picture of undulating 
 passion as the pathetic of comedy (the struc- 
 ture of our modern comedies will allow the 
 expression) is susceptible of." The audience 
 went with him. They saw, with astonishment, 
 an actor, whose forte had been hitherto con- 
 sidered to be comedy, broad comedy, dis- 
 play the greatest power over the tragedy of 
 domestic life. Holcroft, the author, who had 
 remonstrated against entrusting his favourite 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 45 
 
 part to a comparatively untried actor, was 
 surprised at the effect of his own composition. 
 His perpetual attention to the man who had 
 followed out his idea, perhaps beyond the 
 bounds of his own conception, was such, that, 
 when the Secretary of State issued the war- 
 rant for his apprehension on the silly charge 
 of high treason, that functionary directed the 
 officer to search for him at the residence of Mr. 
 Munden. Munden, though never extreme in 
 politics, was, at that time, a Whig, and wore the 
 " blue and buff" of Fox ; in which dress he is 
 painted by Sir Martin Archer Shee. " The 
 Road to Ruin " was repeated thirty- eight 
 nights during the season, and was twice com- 
 manded by the King. Fawcett spoke the pro- 
 logue. 
 
 As a London performer, he was now a 
 "Star" of the first magnitude; and, in that 
 capacity, was engaged during the vacation at 
 the Dublin Theatre. At his benefit there he 
 netted 250/. He afterwards visited his friends 
 at Newcastle, and played there with accla- 
 mation. He was accustomed to say, that the 
 first 100/. he realized he laid out in a pipe of 
 port wine : perhaps it was a joke upon the 
 bibacious propensity which was so much the 
 fashion of the day. A host would have blushed 
 at his own want of hospitality had he sent 
 away his guests sober. He hid their hats, 
 locked the doors, and detained them by force. 
 
46 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Austin once dined at the house of Mr. Bowes, 
 who carried off Lady Strathmore. Being- .a 
 domesticated man, he was desirous of quitting 
 at a reasonable time. After earnestly remon- 
 strating against the violence used to detain 
 him, he at length lost all patience, took up a 
 plate, threw it at a pier-glass, which was 
 smashed in pieces, exclaiming, " Now, will 
 you let me go?' 7 His host, seeing him cast a 
 menacing look at another in the room, threw 
 down the key of the door, and called out, 
 " Oh ! by G d, Austin, go as soon as you 
 like." Jack Bannister dined with another 
 madman, who, in his drunken fit, attempted 
 to inflate a balloon in such a way as to occa- 
 sion a sense of suffocation. The company 
 rushed to the glass folding-doors, and burst 
 them open: they fortunately opened upon a 
 balcony. There were clubs at which fines 
 were inflicted on any member who was not 
 drunk when the sittings were closed ; whist 
 clubs, where the members sate up to their 
 knees in the rejected packs of cards, curtains 
 being drawn between their faces to conceal 
 any expression of disappointment at a bad 
 hand. This practice is said to have been in- 
 troduced in consequence of Mr. Fox losing a 
 large sum of money by the cards being re- 
 flected on the bright surface of some large 
 steel buttons which he wore. One of these 
 card clubs had a singular constitution. It 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 47 
 
 was called " The Never-ending- Club," and 
 the law was, that no one should quit the table 
 until relieved by the arrival of a fresh mem- 
 ber. Days passed, and even nights ; and the 
 fresh dawn beheld the parti carre, after a 
 snore or two, commencing a new game. They 
 did not 
 
 " Carve at the meal 
 With gloves of steel, 
 And drink the red wine with their helmets barr'd." 
 
 But they did " carve at the meals," with 
 dirty hands, which had so long thumbed the 
 cards, and they " drank the red wine/' with 
 eyes half closed by exhaustion and the fever of 
 gambling. We have lost much of the "wisdom 
 of our ancestors," and this amongst the rest. 
 
 On the 26th March, 1792, Munden played 
 Proteus, in a new piece for Mrs. Pope's be- 
 nefit, and Nicholas in " Fashionable Levities/' 
 for Lewis's benefit. April 10, Aircastle, in "The 
 Cozeners," for Quick's benefit. May 10, for 
 his own benefit, Stave, in " The Clerk of the 
 Village," and in a new piece, entitled " Just 
 in time;" and recited "Jemmy Jumps in the 
 Dumps," concluding with " The Deaf Lover." 
 June 18, 1792. Munden's old friend, Mrs. 
 Whitlock, made her first appearance at the 
 Haymarket Theatre in the Queen " Battle of 
 Hexham." Sept. 17, Covent-Garden being re- 
 built, the prices of the boxes were advanced 
 to 6s., pit 3s. 6d., Gallery 2s. An upper gal- 
 lery was afterwards added. The insane row 
 
48 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 which took place at the next rebuilding, and 
 which, in defiance of all law and justice, was 
 permitted to take place in the English metro- 
 polis, did not then commence its disgraceful 
 origin. Nov. 3, Munden played Peregrine For- 
 ester, in a new Farce called " Hartford Bridge," 
 and Sir Anthony Absolute in "The Rivals." Dec. 
 8, Sir Francis Wronghead in " The Provoked 
 Husband." Dec. 27, Polonius in " Hamlet." 
 Mention is made of this part, as it was one of 
 our actor's chastest performances. It had been 
 the custom to represent Polonius as a buffoon : 
 a more erroneous conception could not be 
 entertained. Shakespeare intended him for a 
 pliant and supple courtier, and man of the 
 world, ready to accord with any one's opi- 
 nion whom he deemed it expedient to flatter ; 
 but his advice to his son indicates sound sense 
 and just reflection. Munden, apart from his 
 humorous acquiescence in Hamlet's assumed 
 vagaries, exhibited in his personification a ve- 
 nerable and dignified demeanour, which he 
 imitated from old Lord Mansfield, " Murray 
 the Polite." "Lady Macbeth, "observed Lord 
 Byron to Captain Medwin, " died with Mrs. 
 Siddons, and Polonius will with Munden." 
 At the conclusion of this year, 1792, we 
 lose sight of Wilson. He is said to have 
 died in the King's Bench in 1796. Munden 
 succeeded to most of his characters, which 
 formed a very wide range. Jan. 2, 1793, 
 He played Hardcastle in " She Stoops to 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 49 
 
 Conquer." 16th. Don Jerome in "The 
 Duenna." 29th. Was represented, for the first 
 time, " Every One has his Fault," by Mrs. 
 Inchbald ; Sir Robert Ramble, Lewis ; Har- 
 mony, Munden ; Irwin, Pope ; Lord Norland, 
 Farren ; Solus, Quick ; Placid, Fawcett ; Ed- 
 ward, Miss Grist ; Miss Woodburn, Mrs. Ex- 
 ten ; Lady Eleanor Irwin, Mrs. Pope ; Miss 
 Placid, Mrs. Mattocks ; and Miss Spinster, 
 Mrs. Webb. This comedy was excellently 
 performed. Munden continued to play new 
 parts in succession. For his own benefit (May 
 3, 1793), Robin Redhead, in (first time) " To 
 Arms, or the British Recruit," with old Dorn- 
 ton and Lazarillo. May 11, was represented 
 (first time) " Sprigs of Laurel/' Nipperkin, 
 Munden, a part he rendered famous. O'Keefe, 
 the author, alluding 1 to his own production, 
 says, " Munden was very diverting- in the 
 most impudent, bold, audacious character, 
 that I think was ever before any audience." 
 This farce was revived at Covent-Garden, 
 May 17, 1797, reduced to one act, and entitled 
 "The Rival Soldiers/' O'Keefe counted much 
 on Munden in such parts as these ; for he 
 played up to the extravagance of the cha- 
 racter. Strange that hyper-criticism should 
 have discovered that this was over-acting. 
 Who ever expects a caricaturist to be bound 
 by the strict rules of painting ? Most of the 
 creations of O'Keefe could only be played in 
 
 D 
 
50 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 this way, or could not be played at all. So 
 sensible of this was the author, that he never 
 augured well of a piece unless it was nearly 
 damned the first night ; if received with cold 
 approbation he gave it up for lost. When 
 the audience had pretty well hissed, they be- 
 gan to laugh at the oddity of the concep- 
 tion, and the next night roared with laughter. 
 On one occasion, when Munden had an inci- 
 pient attack of the gout, at his chambers in 
 Clement's Inn, on the eve of a new play, 
 O'Keefe called, with Mr. Harris, the Mana- 
 ger, and implored him, if possible, to play his 
 part for one night, even though he resigned 
 it the next day to an inferior performer. The 
 actor consented ; postponed the fit by the use 
 of a violent remedy ; got through the part 
 with difficulty, and ensured the success of the 
 piece. 
 
 The following dry enumeration of parts 
 played, from the period of September, 1793, 
 upwards, by Munden, is exhibited to show 
 his activity, versatility, and quickness of 
 study. Sept, 18, 1793, "Much Ado about 
 Nothing," Dogberry, Quick; Town-Clerk, 
 Munden, Verges, Fawcett. Oct. 18, Skir- 
 mish in the " Deserter." 19th, Peachum, in 
 " The Beggar's Opera." 25th, Puzzle in 
 " Grief a la Mode." Nov. 12, Old Grovely, 
 in " The Maid of the Oaks." 23d, " The 
 World in a Village" (first time), by O'Keefe, 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 51 
 
 Jollyboy, Munden. Jan. 1, 1794, Sir Andrew 
 Acid, in "Notoriety/ 7 Jan. 2, "School for 
 Wives/' General Savage, Munden. Feb. 5, 
 Craig Campbell in " Loves' Frailties/' a new 
 Comedy, by Holcroft. 22nd, Sydney, in (first 
 time) " Travellers in Switzerland." April 7, 
 For Mrs. Pope's benefit, was performed " The 
 Jealous Wife," Oakly, Pope; Major Oakly, 
 Quick ; Charles, Holman ; Sir Harry Beagle, 
 Fawcett ; Captain O'Cutter, Johnstone ; Rus- 
 set, Munden (being their first appearance in 
 those characters); Lord Trinket, Lewis; Mrs. 
 Oakly, Mrs. Pope ; Lady Freelove, Mrs. Mat- 
 tocks (first time) ; Harriet, Mrs. Mountain 
 (first time); this, indeed, was a strong cast. 
 
 April 12, For Lewis' benefit, Trim in "Tris- 
 tram Shandy." 29th, For Johnston's benefit, 
 Joey, in " British Fortifications," never acted, 
 and Old Pranks, in " The London Hermit." 
 May 13, For his own benefit, "School for 
 Wives," with, never acted, " The Packet Boat, 
 or a Peep Behind the Veil," Quick, John- 
 ston, Munden, Mrs. Martyr; after which, 
 " British Fortitude" (fifth time). 22d, Speech- 
 less Wife," Quick, Munden, Incledon : this 
 opera was damned. 23d, Mrs. Mountain's 
 benefit, Lopez, in " Lovers' Quarrels. 28th, 
 Middleton's benefit, Martin, in the "Sicilian 
 Romance/' never before acted. June llth, 
 Robin, in " The Waterman/' Parsons died 
 in Feb. 1795. He had played with Gar- 
 
 D 2 
 
52 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 rick, and was one of his " children." He is 
 represented by Zoftani, as one of the watch- 
 men in the scene with Garrick as Sir John 
 Brate, and the expression of his face is very 
 comical. Parsons' chief forte was in old men 
 in comedy, in which he greatly excelled. 
 His best part was Corbaccio, which he played 
 from the recollection of Shuter. 
 
 At this period Munden took a house in 
 Frith-street, Soho. His next door neighbour 
 was his friend Jack Bannister. They were 
 chosen parish constables. With the whim- 
 sicality that attaches itself to the profession, 
 they waited on the vestry, and were excused, 
 by urging that their authority would not be 
 respected ; as the constant habit of appear- 
 ing as Dogberry and Verges rendered them 
 too comical for anything but stage exhibition. 
 They established a kind of club, which met 
 alternately at their respective houses. The 
 actors came in the dresses they had worn 
 during the performance at the theatres. 
 Amongst their visitors were Colman, Peter 
 Pindar, O'Keefe, Lord Barrymore, and Capt. 
 Wathen. Here, Peter Pindar extemporised 
 the following Epigram on O'Keefe, after the 
 dramatist had quitted the room : 
 
 Some say, O'Keefe, that thou art a thief, 
 And stealest half of thy works or more ; 
 
 But I say, O'Keefe, thou can'st not be a thief, 
 For such stuff was ne'er written before. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 53 
 
 The supper consisted of rump steaks and 
 mutton chops ; and the author's revered mo- 
 ther told him that she never saw anybody 
 eat with more appetite than the luxurious 
 prodigal, Lord Barrymore. So it is. Sweets 
 produce satiety. A royal Epicure is said to 
 have fallen lack on mutton chops. 
 
 The man in this society, who was most 
 talked of at the time, was Lord Barrymore. 
 He was one of a motley trio known by the 
 nicknames of Newgate, Cripplegate and Hell- 
 gate. His Lordship was the first ; his suc- 
 cessor, the next lord, who was lame, the 
 second ; and the Honorable Augustus Barry, 
 a clergyman, the third. The latter gentle- 
 man passed much of his time in prisons for 
 debt. The two noblemen were both addicted 
 to gambling ; with this difference, that the 
 first played to lose, and the second to win, 
 and they both, by their several ways, suc- 
 ceeded in the attempt. The habit of extrava- 
 gance was early fostered in Lord Barrymore. 
 It is asserted that his grandmother, who doted 
 on him, gave him when he went to Harrow a 
 thousand pounds, just as a good-natured old 
 woman would slip a crown piece into her dar- 
 ling's hands at parting. The freaks that this 
 nobleman played have not been equalled in 
 our days, so prolific in lordly riots ; but it will 
 always be the case, when young men of rank 
 come early into the possession of their vast es- 
 
54 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 tates without controul : the usurer supplies 
 them at first with the ready means of folly, 
 and when the rents are collected, there is no 
 want 6f hangers-on ; the very excesses they 
 commit enable those scoundrels to take them 
 unawares and secure their plunder. 
 
 Among the ingenious expedients which 
 Lord Barrymore invented to ruin himself 
 was, drawing straws from a truss with the 
 Prince of Wales ; the holder of the longest 
 straw to receive 1000. He gave a sumptu- 
 ous entertainment at Ranelagh, to which it is 
 said only himself and two other persons came 
 drove a tandem along the cliffs at Brighton 
 close to the declivity : it was one of those high 
 tandems, which Sir John Lade brought into 
 vogue, and from which Lady Lade used to step 
 into the first floor window. At the theatre 
 in that town he played Harlequin, and jumped 
 through a hoop. He was a very good comic 
 actor, as may be seen from the representation 
 of him in Bell's Theatre, in Scrub, with Cap- 
 tain Wathen in Archer ; and, with all his 
 wildness, at bottom a man of sense and edu- 
 cation. In a company, where more than one 
 literary man was present, it was proposed that 
 each person should write an epigram, upon a 
 given subject, within a very limited space of 
 time, and Lord B. was the only one who ac- 
 complished it. He built a theatre at his seat 
 at Wargrave, where he played, with other 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 55 
 
 amateurs, and occasional professional assist- 
 ance. The whole audience were afterwards 
 entertained at supper. His end was an un- 
 timely one. In stepping into his curricle to 
 convey, as commanding- officer of the militia 
 in the district, some French prisoners from 
 one dep6t to another, he accidentally trod 
 upon the lock of his carbine, and the con- 
 tents lodged in his brain. He had not been 
 many years of age, but he had contrived to 
 dissipate an enormous fortune. 
 
 Munden was ejected from his house in 
 Frith Street in a more summary way than 
 he anticipated. An individual who lodged 
 next door, the other side from Bannister, 
 being a friend to the " Rights of Man," had 
 indulged in a few extra glasses on the ac- 
 quittal of the soi-disant patriots, Hardy, Home 
 Tooke, &c. On returning home, and getting 
 into bed, he took the precaution to put the 
 candle under the bed. He soon became sen- 
 sible of the inconvenience of such a practice. 
 Starting up with the heavy insensibility of an 
 intoxicated man he stumbled against the win- 
 dow, and making a dash at it, fell into the 
 court behind. Luckily he carried part of the 
 window frame with him, which, meeting with 
 obstructions, broke his fall, so that, although 
 he descended a considerable distance, and was 
 much bruised, no bone was broken. That 
 this gentleman was deeply implicated in the 
 
56 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 dangerous proceedings of the day there is 
 little doubt. During his confinement from 
 illness, he received innumerable communica- 
 tions by letter, which he would not entrust to 
 others ; but, tore them open with his teeth, his 
 hands being much bruised. In later years, 
 he made a large fortune, by editing an even- 
 ing newspaper, and advocating, with ability, 
 ultra tory principles. No lives were lost 
 by this mishap, though Munden's house also 
 caught fire. The narrator of the tale, then 
 an infant, was carried through the flames by 
 his affectionate mother. 
 
 Munden then removed to a small cottage 
 at Kentish Town ; not a " cottage of gentil- 
 ity" ; for it had no apartments under ground. 
 A little vault beneath the dining room served 
 for a cellar ; and the master of the house, 
 when he had guests, was obliged to raise the 
 carpet, and descend a step ladder, to fetch up 
 a fresh bottle. Yet here Moore sang, and 
 Morland painted. The cottage looked on the 
 fields, and that strange mortal, George Mor- 
 land, was accustomed to sit there for hours 
 with the favourite gin-bottle before him, and 
 sketch cattle from the life. Many of the 
 best of these productions Munden purchased.* 
 
 * Though not, like his friend Bannister, possessing a profes- 
 sional knowledge of painting, he had a fine perception of the 
 art. He got together a valuable collection of drawings by 
 Turner, in his earlier and best style, Girtin, Cousins, Cipriani 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 57 
 
 Our actor afterwards removed to a larger 
 house, where a circumstance occurred which 
 is worth recording 1 , He had a party of friends 
 dining 1 there, who remained late. In the mid- 
 dle of the night, or, rather, early in the morn- 
 ing, the house was broken open by thieves. 
 The family were not disturbed ; but the thieves, 
 setting one of the party to listen on the stairs, 
 examined the larder, and finding abundant 
 remnants of good feeding, brought them up to 
 the dining-room. Without troubling them- 
 selves with the formality of a table-cloth, or 
 knives and forks, they proceeded to demolish 
 the provender by the primitive process of 
 tearing it to pieces with their fingers. The 
 marks on the table, where each had deposited 
 his pinches of salt, determined the number : 
 there were six. They opened the cellaret, and 
 regaled themselves with a bottle of wine and 
 a bottle of porter. Their booty, however, 
 was slight. A ring, taken off and accidentally 
 left by Mrs. Munden, whilst superintending 
 the domestic arrangements, formed nearly the 
 whole. They had emptied a trunk, containing 
 
 and Bartolozzi. Two companion drawings, on a large scale, 
 which he possessed, Wells Cathedral, by Turner, and Durham 
 Castle by Girtin, were works of extraordinary merit. Girtin 
 sent him over from Paris, by Holcroft, one of the last of his 
 productions. An intimacy with the artists, and a ready ad- 
 mittance to their studios, enabled him to obtain these drawings 
 at moderate prices. 
 
 D 5 
 
58 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 theatrical clothes, to the last coat, when they 
 were alarmed by the early rising 1 of one of 
 the maid servants. These clothes were valu- 
 able, as they were covered with a great deal 
 of gold and silver lace. Munden always pro- 
 vided his own costume,* wearing nothing 1 
 that belonged to the theatre, and gave large 
 sums for any dress that suited his fancy. 
 Among the suits which formed his wardrobe 
 was a black velvet coat, &c., which had be- 
 longed to George II., of the richest Genoa 
 velvet ; and another, made for Francis Duke 
 of Bedford, at Paris, on the occasion of the 
 Prince of Wales' marriage, which is said to 
 have cost 10001. The coat had originally been 
 fringed with precious stones, of which the 
 sockets only remained when it came into the 
 hands of the "fripier;" but in its dilapidated 
 state Munden gave 40/. for it. His wigs, 
 also, for old men, were of great antiquity and 
 value ; they were always in the care of, and 
 daily inspected by a hairdresser, attached to 
 the theatre. On the morning after the bur- 
 glary, the injured party applied to his friends, 
 the sitting magistrates at Bow-street, Sir Wm. 
 Parsons, and Mr. Justice Bond, for advice. 
 They asked what he had lost, and learning the 
 
 * To his attention to costume our actor owed much of his 
 fame. Fuseli, the painter, broke into a burst of admiration 
 when he saw him dressed for one of the Witches in " Mac- 
 beth/' 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 59 
 
 trifling amount, said, " Munden, you must not 
 tell any one we gave you this advice, but to 
 prosecute will cause you a great deal of trouble 
 and unpleasantness, and you had better put up 
 with the loss. 1 ' One of the magistrates whis- 
 pered to an officer, and inquired, " who was 
 on the North-road last night ?" " Little 
 Jemmy, with a party, your worship." " Have 
 you ascertained, Munden, 11 rejoined Sir Wil- 
 liam Parsons, " how the robbers gained an 
 entrance ?" " By forcing up the parlour win- 
 dow. 11 " Was there an impression of a very 
 small foot on the mould beneath?" "Yes." 
 " Enough ! Should you like to see the leader 
 of the gang that robbed your house ?" " I 
 have rather a fancy for it, 11 said the astonished 
 comedian. " Then go over to the Brown 
 Bear, opposite, at one o'clock to-morrow after- 
 noon ; enter the room on the right, and you 
 will see Townshend, the officer, seated at the 
 head of a table, with a large company. You 
 may be assured that all the rest are thieves. 
 If he asks you to sit down, do so; and the 
 man who sits upon your right hand will be 
 the person who planned and conducted the 
 robbery of your house. 11 With the glee con- 
 sequent upon a relish for humorous situa- 
 tions, the actor promised compliance. He 
 attended at the appointed time ; knocked at 
 the door was told to enter, and a group of 
 gaol-birds met his eye, headed by Townshend, 
 
60 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 who was diligently engaged in carving a 
 round of beef. " Mr. Townshend," said the 
 aggrieved child of Thespis, " I wanted to have 
 spoken to you, but I see you are engaged." 
 " Not at all, Mr. Munden ; I shall be at your 
 service in a few minutes ; but, perhaps, you 
 will take a snack with us. Jemmy, make 
 way for Mr. Munden." Jemmy, with a wry 
 face, did as he was bid. The actor sat down ; 
 turned towards his uneasy neighbour, and 
 examined his features minutely. The com- 
 pany believing that Jemmy was undergoing 
 the process of identification, laughed immo- 
 derately. It happened that a round of beef, 
 with the remnant of a haunch of venison, had 
 formed the repast with which Munden's un- 
 invited guests had regaled themselves. The 
 thieves, who were well aware of the burglary, 
 and knew the person of the victim, indulged 
 themselves in ex-tempore and appropriate 
 jokes. " Jemmy, your appetite is failing," 
 said one ; " have a little more. You were 
 always fond of boiled beef." Curiosity satis- 
 fied, the actor withdrew, greatly to the relief 
 of Mr. Jemmy, to whom he made a low' bow 
 at parting. This hero afterwards suffered the 
 last penalty of the law for some offence of 
 greater magnitude. These were the customs 
 that prevailed half a century ago. The officer 
 had the thieves under his immediate eye, and 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 61 
 
 seldom gave them much trouble until they 
 were worth forty pounds ; that is, candidates 
 for the gibbet and the halter. If much stir 
 was made after a lost gold watch, and a hand- 
 some reward offered, a hint from the man in 
 office recovered it; and when the final period 
 of retributive justice arrived, this functionary 
 fearlessly entered a room crowded with male- 
 factors, and, beckoning with his finger, was 
 followed by his man, who well knew " he was 
 wanted." The Brown Bear was as safe a 
 place of retreat for the thief as any other. 
 It is even said, that a famous highwayman 
 ensconced himself for some time very snugly 
 in lodgings near it, knowing that search would 
 be made after him in every other direction ; 
 as young Watson did in Newgate-street, when 
 every wall was placarded with a large reward 
 for his apprehension. 
 
 Munden was fond of attending the Police 
 Courts in Bow-street, during the intervals of 
 rehearsal, to witness the comedy of real life. 
 On one occasion, sitting by the*- side of Sir 
 Richard Birnie, with whom he was very in- 
 timate, Dick Martin, the eccentric, but hu- 
 mane member for Galway, came to prefer one 
 of his usual charges of cruelty to animals. 
 After the charge was disposed of, Sir Richard 
 whispered in Martin's ear : " The gentleman 
 who sits beside me is Munden, the comedian." 
 
62 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The bailiff whom Mr. Martin's tenants plunged 
 into the bogs of Cunnemara and forced to 
 swallow the writ of which he was the bearer, 
 could not have looked more astonished than 
 did Dick at this announcement. " Is he by 
 G d?" he retorted. " Mr. Martin," gravely 
 added the magistrate, " It is my duty to fine 
 you for that oath." "With all my heart!" 
 said Dick ; and, bowing to Mr. Munden, 
 cheerfully paid the fine. 
 
 The Fire King pursued the comedian to his 
 calm retreat. A lady, who was stopping on 
 a visit, sent her maid to search for some ar- 
 ticles of female finery in her bed-room, to be 
 exhibited to the wondering gaze of the other 
 visitors. The careful servant, fearful that a 
 spark might drop into the drawers, held the 
 candle behind her, and ignited the bed-cur- 
 tains. She then ran, screaming, below to her 
 mistress, leaving the door and windows open. 
 In a moment the room was in a blaze, and the 
 flames flashed out on the staircase. Again 
 did the fond mother preserve her infant son, 
 (who was sleeping in his crib in the next room) 
 regardless of the scorching heat through which 
 she bore him. The now flourishing village of 
 Kentish Town was then little more than a 
 hamlet, and contained no fire-engine. The 
 house would have been burnt down, but for 
 the exertions of the volunteers, who assem- 
 bled on the occasion, and, forming themselves 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 63 
 
 in line, performed the peaceable duty of pass- 
 ing 1 buckets of water to each other from a 
 neighbouring pond, until they reached the 
 soldier exposed to the heat of the tire, who 
 discharged their contents on the foe. These 
 volunteers were commanded by a Captain 
 Fraser.* They arranged themselves in loyal 
 array, and saluted their Sovereign (George 
 III.), as he passed through the village to visit 
 Lord Mansfield at Caen Wood. The King 
 stopped the carriage, and, inquiring the name 
 of the commander, sent for him, and shook 
 him cordially by the hand. The scene was 
 affecting, for Captain Fraser was the grandson 
 of Lord Lovatt, who had been in arms against 
 the House of Hanover, and was beheaded 
 for high treason, on Tower Hill, in 1747. 
 
 Resuming stage affairs ; on the 15th Sept., 
 1794, was represented a new prelude, called 
 
 * This gentleman was once riding in the stage-coach from 
 Kentish Town to London, in company with a lady, a recent 
 resident in the village, and Mrs. Munden. The lady began 
 to launch out in most extravagant praise of Munden's person 
 and manners. When she had concluded, Captain Fraser 
 quietly said, "Allow me to introduce you, madam, to Mrs. 
 Munden." The actor himself fell into a similar mistake dur- 
 ing the performances of the Young Roscius. Seeing a friend 
 behind the scenes who took a warm interest in Master Betty, 
 he accosted him thus : " I like your protege much, but I won- 
 der you had his portrait painted by " His friend 
 stopped him by saying, " Mr. Munden, let me have the plea- 
 sure of making you acquainted with Mr. Opie." 
 
64 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 " The Rival Queens, or Drury-Lane and Co- 
 vent-Garden," attributed to Holcroft. Prin- 
 cipal performers : Lewis, Johnstone, Munden, 
 Harley, and Mrs. Fawcett. 19th, " Beaux 
 Stratagem" Scrub, Munden. 24th, Hard- 
 castle, in "She Stoops to Conquer;" Mrs. 
 Hardcastle, Mrs. Davenport (being her first 
 appearance on any stage). Oct. 23 (first 
 time), " The Rage," by Reynolds Flush, 
 Munden ; and Dorcas, in " Cimon." 30th, 
 Piccaroon, in a new opera called "Ar- 
 rived at Portsmouth." Nov. 30, "Midas." 
 29th, Cimberton, in " The Conscious Lovers. 1 ' 
 Dec. 6 (first time), " The Town Before You," 
 by Mrs. Cowley Humphrey, Munden. Jan. 
 29, 1795, Tally-ho, in " Fontainbleau." 31, 
 Valoury, in " Mysteries of the Castle." March 
 19 (first time), " Life's Vagaries," by CTKeefe 
 Sir Hans Burgess, Munden. April 23 (first 
 time), " Irish Mimic," by O'Keefe Cypress, 
 Munden. May 1, in "The Sailor's Prize" 
 (first time), for Johnston's benefit. 2d, Do- 
 nald, in a new play, called " The Deserted 
 Daughter," by Holcroft. 6th, Pounce, in 
 " British Heroism" (first time), for Mrs. Mar- 
 tyr's benefit. 8th, Munden's benefit, (t Love 
 Makes a Man," Don Lewis, Munden ; with, 
 "Who's the Dupe?" Gradus, Fawcett; Doi- 
 ley, Munden. 14th, Fool, in " The Battle of 
 Hexham," for Fawcett's benefit. 29th, Ber- 
 nard's benefit, Don Caesar, in " A Bold Stroke 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 65 
 
 for a Husband." June 2, Drugget, in " Three 
 Weeks after Marriage." 6th, Thomas, in 
 "The Irish Widow," for Mrs. Clendining's 
 benefit. 8th, Brandon's benefit, Lord Scratch, 
 in "The Dramatist;" and Little John, in 
 " Robin Hood." 12th, Grumio, in " Catherine 
 and Petruchio." 13th, Ralph, in " The Maid 
 of the Mill." 16th, Sir Walter Waring, in " The 
 Woodman." Sept. 23 (new season), Spado, in 
 " The Castle of Andalusia." 25th, Governor 
 Harcourt, in "The Chapter of Accidents;" 
 on which occasion Mr. Knight made his first 
 appearance. Oct. 5, General, in " The Mid- 
 night Hour." 22nd, Shelty, in" The Highland 
 Reel." 30th, Sir Anthony Absolute, in " The 
 Rivals." Nov. 5, Tokay, in "Wives Re- 
 venged." 7th (first time), " Speculation," by 
 Reynolds Project, Munden. Dec. 9, " Henry 
 IV." (first part), Falstaff, Fawcett ; Carriers, 
 Quick and Munden. 22d, Autolycus, in " The 
 Winter's Tale." Jan. 23, 1796, Morton pro- 
 duced his comedy, "The Way to Get Mar- 
 ried," with the following cast : Tangent, 
 Lewis ; Toby Allspice, Quick ; Dick Dashall, 
 Fawcett ; Captain Faulkner, Pope ; M'Query, 
 Johnstone; Caustic, Munden. This was a 
 successful part of Munden's, and he played 
 it always with much applause. Feb. 2 (first 
 time), "Lock and Key," by Prince Hoare 
 Brummagem, Munden. In this character he 
 is painted by Clint. Feb. 23, was play- 
 
66 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ed "The Doldrum." This out-herod's all 
 O'Keefe's extravaganzas. To persuade a man 
 that he has slept seven years, and the audience 
 to imagine he believes it, is to draw largely on 
 human credulity. Munden played Sir Mar- 
 maduke, and Quick, Septimus. 
 
 On 12th March, was represented at Drury- 
 Lane (for the first time), " The Iron Chest," 
 by Geo. Colman, jun., taken from the novel 
 of " Caleb Williams,'" by Godwin. This piece 
 is too well known to require description,, and 
 it is only mentioned here for the purpose of 
 recording a circumstance that afterwards oc- 
 curred. At its first representation it was 
 hissed furiously. This reception by the audi- 
 ence Colman attributed to the bad acting of 
 Mr. Kemble, and published his play, with a 
 preface, reflecting on that gentleman in a tone 
 of the bitterest acrimony. Amongst other 
 faults, he accused him of exaggeration, de- 
 claring that, " if sewed up in a skin to play a 
 hog, in a pantomime, he would rather play a 
 hog with six legs than a hog with four." 
 
 In the course of the following vacation, 
 Munden was engaged at the Dublin Theatre, 
 by Daly, in conjunction with Mr. Kemble. 
 Munden, sitting in the green-room, took a 
 London newspaper out of his pocket, and had 
 just commenced reading it, when his brother 
 performer intimated that he should like to see 
 it by and by. Munden politely relinquished 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 67 
 
 it*- ' Kemble perused it attentively, and re- 
 turned it without an observation, resuming* the 
 conversation in the tone of calm indifference 
 which he usually displayed. When he left 
 the room, Munden was shocked to find that 
 the paper contained the whole ,of Colman's 
 virulent and personal attack. His first im- 
 pulse was to call on Kemble, and explain that 
 his readiness in handing 1 over the newspaper 
 did not, as might possibly be inferred, arise 
 from a malevolent motive ; but, on reflection, 
 he considered that such an explanation would 
 be indelicate and uncalled for. Mr. Kemble 
 preserved a dignified silence on the subject of 
 "The Iron Chest" and its author; and Col- 
 man, when he cooled a little, feeling the im- 
 propriety of such gross personalities, did all 
 in his power to withdraw the preface from 
 circulation. This preface became so scarce, 
 that during the O. P. Row, some malignant 
 fellow offered a guinea for it by public adver- 
 tisement, for the purpose of annoying Mr. 
 Kemble. The actor and the author afterwards 
 became reconciled, and frequently drank pota- 
 tions deep together, as was " their custom in 
 the afternoon." 
 
 Cooke, whose orgies were exposed to pub- 
 lic view, was secretly stung at his rival's 
 astuteness, who drank nearly as much alcohol 
 in wine as he did in spirits, but drank in 
 private, preserving a decent demeanour. We- 
 
68 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 witzer, the comedian, who could not afford 
 wine, was once observed by his manager com- 
 ing- out of a public house at night much the 
 worse for liquor, with porter. The manager 
 was in a similar state with port wine ; but, 
 retaining his presence of mind, raised his 
 hands with feigned astonishment, and ex- 
 claimed, " Wewitzer, this will never do !" 
 Sir Walter Scott avers that he never was so 
 nearly " fuddled," as in dining at his own 
 house alone with this fascinating gentleman. 
 The poet and the tragedian talked upon sub- 
 jects with which they were both familiar, 
 antiquarian lore and the early English drama ; 
 and as Kemble uttered each sentence, he grave- 
 ly filled and emptied his glass, until fresh sup- 
 plies became necessary. Mr. Kemble and 
 Mr. Munden, with the exception of one differ- 
 ence of slight duration, continued firm friends 
 to the last. The tragedian visited the come- 
 dian during his fits of the gout.* It was at 
 the residence of the latter, at Kentish Town, 
 that Mr. Kemble, leaving Mrs. Kemble, who 
 was not known to the family, in the carriage 
 at the door, during one of his fits of absence 
 
 * Another of his visitors on these occasions was Mrs. 
 (afterwards Lady) Garrow, wife of the eminent judge, who 
 had preserved a friendship for him ever since he was a boy at 
 the law stationer's, and was in the habit of taking briefs to her 
 husband, then an Old Bailey counsel. It is said she had 
 been attracted by his good looks. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 69 
 
 remained longer than he had proposed. The 
 day was a severe one, with a considerable fall 
 of snow. Mrs. Kemble, feeling chilled, sent the 
 footman to her husband, to whom he delivered 
 the following- message : " Sir, Missus wishes 
 to know if you shall be much longer, as she is 
 afraid of catching the rheumatiz." " Friend," 
 replied Kemble, with his ordinary precision, 
 " go back to your mistress, and tell her I am 
 coming ; and the next time you deliver that 
 message, be pleased to say rheumatism." In 
 fact, both actors were serviceable to each other. 
 The Sir Giles Overreach of Kemble was greatly 
 supported by the Marrall of Munden ; and in 
 Hamlet, and many other plays, they contri- 
 buted mutual aid. When this great tragedian 
 was going through the range of his characters 
 previous to his retirement from the stage, he 
 had a strong desire to play Falstaff. He was 
 twice advertized for it, and was with difficulty 
 persuaded by his friends to abandon the in- 
 tention. On this occasion he sent to Munden, 
 who then resided near him, in the vicinity of 
 Russell-square, and begged his friend to read 
 the part to him. 
 
 Here it may be observed, that Munden was 
 frequently pressed to play Falstaff. Assur- 
 edly, he would have greatly excelled in it. The 
 public were not satisfied with any of the suc- 
 cessors of Henderson in the part : those who 
 had power, and justness of conception, lacked 
 
70 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 humour ; the latter quality, the subject of our 
 memoir eminently possessed, and the very ex- 
 cess of it, which was so frequently decried, 
 could scarcely have been deemed a fault in 
 such a character as Falstaff. His flexible and 
 strongly marked countenance, and powerful 
 voice,* would have been of great advantage 
 to him. But Munden looked at the result. 
 If successful, he knew he should be called 
 upon to play it repeatedly; and he feared 
 that the " stuffing," as it is called the addi- 
 tional clothing to make up the bulk of the 
 person, might subject him to cold and more fre- 
 quent attacks of gout, to which he was greatly 
 subject : if unsuccessful, it would detract from 
 his merited reputation. He entertained at 
 times a notion of playing Shylock ; his suc- 
 cess in that part is more problematical. He 
 would, without doubt, have played it with 
 propriety, as Mr. Dowton did when he once 
 performed it. 
 
 This year, 1796, beheld the first appearance 
 of that great comedian, Dowton, on the Lon- 
 don boards, which were enriched by the addi- 
 tion of Elliston and Murray to the existing 
 stock of sterling actors. Nov. 2, their Majes- 
 
 * The late Dr. Babington said, that when the Drury Lane 
 company were playing at the Opera House, not being able to 
 procure any other seat, he went to the gallery, and the only 
 performer he could hear through the piece was Munden, in 
 consequence of his distinct enunciation. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 71 
 
 ties commanded, at Covent Garden Theatre, 
 " The Way to Get Married," and, " Lock and 
 Key." Dec. , Munden played with Quick 
 and Knight in " Abroad and at Home," a 
 production reflecting high credit on Mr. Hol- 
 man^s talents. This was followed by a " Cure 
 for the Heart Ache," the best of Morton's 
 comedies, in which our subject played Old 
 Rapid, to Lewis's Young Rapid. Old Rapid 
 was one of his richest performances. In later 
 days, Elliston played Young Rapid to him 
 with great applause, but in so sententious a 
 manner, that his dramatic father once whis- 
 pered in his ear : " Bob, this is Young Turgid, 
 not Young Rapid." 
 
 On the 15th March, 1797, died Mrs. Pope, 
 the Miss Young, of Garrick. She was bu- 
 ried in the cloisters of Westminster Abbey, 
 not far from Barry, and Mrs. Clive, her early 
 theatrical friends, and followed to the grave by 
 the principal performers of both theatres, who 
 respected her private worth as much as they 
 admired her extraordinary talents. This sad 
 event was followed by another death to the 
 stage, though not to the world : the retire- 
 ment of Miss Farren, the great rival of Mrs. 
 Jordan, and in some parts her superior. This 
 lady, whose manners and dress had long been 
 imitated in the circles of fashion, became 
 shortly afterwards one of its brightest orna- 
 ments. She took leave in Lady Teazle, her 
 
72 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 best part. By the Earl of Derby, to whom 
 she gave her hand on quitting- the stage, she 
 had one daughter, the present Countess of 
 Wilton. On the first of May, Mrs. Siddons 
 played in comedy for her own benefit, and 
 took occasion, in an address, to pay a hand- 
 some compliment to the memory of the late 
 Mrs. Pope. Munden played for his benefit 
 in " Every one has his Fault," and at the 
 close of the season, was engaged by Mr. Col- 
 man at the Haymarket Theatre. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 73 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Our actor at the Haymarket Colman's " Heir at Law " 
 Anecdote of John Palmer Mrs. Crawford and Mrs. Abing- 
 ton at Covent-Garden Retirement of Quick : his great 
 excellence Mrs. Crawford quits the stage Mrs. Siddons 
 and Mrs. Crawford in Lady Randolph Return of Mr. 
 Smith Munden in Verdun and Bonus " The Birth-day" 
 Munden's Captain Bertram and Crack " Speed the Plough" 
 The "rebellious eight :" Lord Salisbury's arbitration First 
 appearance of George Frederick Cooke at Covent-Garden : 
 his surprising success Cooke and Macklin's Shylock 
 Macklin's character Cooke's treatment of his former mana- 
 ger" The Poor Gentleman" Anecdotes of Mrs. Mattocks, 
 Mrs. Webb, Aikin, and Incledon Munden and Incledon at 
 Dublin Cooke and the Edinburgh critic Kemble and 
 Talma Colman's" John Bull" Munden and Johnstone in 
 Dublin during the rebellion Tom Hill Cooke's vagaries. 
 
 Our Actor made his first appearance at the 
 Haymarket Theatre on the 20th June 1797, in 
 Tony Lumpkin ; Hardcastle, by Mr. Suett. 
 July 15, Mr. Colman produced one of the best 
 of his comedies, " The Heir at Law," which 
 was thus strongly supported. Dr. Pangloss, 
 Fawcett ; Daniel Dowlas, alias Lord Duberly, 
 Suett ; Dick Dowlas, Palmer ; Zekiel Home- 
 spun, Munden ; Henry Moreland, Charles 
 Kemble; Steadfast, J. Aikin; Kenrick, John- 
 
 
 
74 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 stone ; Cecily Homespun, Mrs. Gibbs ; Debo- 
 rah Dowlas, alias Lady Duberly, Mrs. Da- 
 venport; Caroline Dormer, Miss De Camp. 
 Zekiel Homespun must have been out of 
 Munden's line. Fawcett was very successful 
 in Dr. Pangloss, w r hich was, indeed, one of his 
 best parts ; but the audience did not at first 
 enter into the humour of the quotations, and 
 it was not until after a gentle hint in the 
 newspapers, that they laughed at what they 
 were supposed to understand. Lord and 
 Lady Duberly are humorously conceived, and 
 told capitally ; but Colrnan is sadly un- 
 fortunate in his sentimental parts, which 
 are very mawkish. How he could fancy 
 that in such hybrid productions as the Iron 
 Chest, and the Mountaineers, he was imitat- 
 ing Shakespeare, argues a self-conceit not 
 easily to be paralleled. Munden took for his 
 benefit, on the 8th August, the Young Quaker, 
 in which he played Clod ; Dinah, by Miss De 
 Camp ; to which followed a Comic tale called 
 Benjamin Bolus, or the Newcastle Apothecary, 
 recited by Munden, and the farce of a Beg- 
 gar on Horseback ; Corney, Munden ; Codger, 
 Suett. In the summer of this year, the aw- 
 fully sudden death of John Palmer, the cir- 
 cumstances of which are too well known to be 
 recapitulated, took place during the perform- 
 ance of the Stranger, on the Liverpool Stage. 
 The subject of this memoir always stated that 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 75 
 
 John Palmer was the best general actor he 
 had ever seen. Palmer played everything, 
 and everything equally well. He possessed 
 the advantages of a tall and well-proportioned 
 figure, an expressive countenance, melodious 
 voice, and most persuasive manner. Mrs. 
 Siddons once observed that, so naturally in- 
 sinuating was he in Stukely, she felt at times 
 off her guard, and, for a moment, could hardly 
 help fancying that his propositions were real. 
 He carried this quality with him into private 
 life, which obtained for him the name of 
 " plausible Jack." It is said that on one oc- 
 casion, having an invitation to dinner, he 
 knocked by mistake at the next door, where 
 he found a large party assembled in the draw- 
 ing room. Not perceiving his host and host- 
 ess, he concluded they were in some other part 
 of the dwelling, and commenced conversing 
 familiarly with the company. The master 
 and mistress of the house plainly perceived 
 there was a mistake, but were so fascinated 
 by his powers of conversation that they suf- 
 fered him to proceed until dinner was an- 
 nounced, when they pressed him earnestly to 
 let it be no mistake, but to remain and be 
 their guest. Jack Palmer was improvident 
 and always in difficulties ; he however con- 
 trived to keep the bailiffs in good humour by 
 orders for the theatre. 
 
 The season of 1797-8, beheld those surpass- 
 
 2 
 
76 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ing actresses Mrs. Crawford and Mrs. Ab- 
 ington at Covent Garden. March 31, 1798, 
 Munden played Sir Peter Teazle to Mrs. Ab- 
 ington's Lady Teazle. April 23, Peachum, for 
 Madam Mara's benefit. 24th, The new pieces 
 that were produced, were Mortons' " Secrets 
 Worth Knowing," and Colman's " Blue De- 
 vils;" and on the 30th, " The Eccentric Lov- 
 er," a new Comedy by Cumberland : principal 
 characters by Lewis, Quick, Holman, Faw- 
 cett, Murray, Knight, Whitfield, Munden, 
 Mrs. Mattocks and Miss Betterton (now Mrs. 
 Glover). Mr. Quick was taken ill at this pe- 
 riod, and was desirous of playing only occa- 
 sionally. Mr. Harris objecting to this ar- 
 rangement, he did not engage for the season 
 1798-9. He performed for some time in the 
 country, and played Isaac, in the Duenna, at 
 Drury Lane, in 1801, and for several benefits, 
 after he had formally retired from the stage. 
 His last appearance was for Mrs. Mattocks' 
 benefit in 1813. By Quick's retirement, Munden 
 succeded to a vast accession of characters. 
 
 Quick must have been a rich comic actor. 
 The least glance at the portraits of him in 
 Spado and Tony Lumpkin will convince any 
 one of his extraordinary humour. In the lat- 
 ter painting, by De Wilde, he is represented 
 reading the letter, and the look of puzzlement 
 with which he tries to find out whether it is 
 " an x or an izzard" is true to the life. That 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 77 
 
 admirable comedian Mr. Listen was wont to 
 provoke roars of laughter in this character ; 
 but Quick's squat figure was of much service 
 to him in such parts as this, and in testy old 
 men. He was a great favourite with King 
 George the Third, who delighted in comic per- 
 formances. When Quick played nine nights 
 at Windsor in 1796, his Majesty commanded 
 six of them. The monarch, at a later period, 
 took an equal fancy for Joe Grimaldi, the 
 clown ; and laughed almost to suffocation at 
 his mimic exhibition of swallowing a quantity 
 of long puddings. Mr. Quick retired with 
 what he considered a handsome fortune, but 
 it is feared that the increased value of every 
 article of life, consequent upon the war, ren- 
 dered his calculations incomplete. The re- 
 tired actor took up his abode at Islington, and 
 was accustomed to smoke a pipe in the even- 
 ing, with a select few at a tavern in his vicin- 
 ity. There, some years afterwards, Munden 
 and the late Mr. Macready sought him out, 
 and hid themselves in the corner of the coffee 
 room. After observing him awhile, the in- 
 cognito was broken by Munden imitating his 
 voice and manner, in some direction to the 
 waiter, with such exactness, that Quick start- 
 ed up in amazement, but perceiving at once 
 the stage joke, walked up to them, and shook 
 hands very cordially. Quick died one year 
 before his rival and successor, leaving a son and 
 
78 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 daughter. Miss Quick married Mr. Daven- 
 port, a gentleman of learning and ability, with 
 whom the writer has had the pleasure of being 
 on terms of friendship for many years. He is 
 the author of some valuable works on education. 
 
 Mrs. Crawford also quitted the stage in this 
 year. This lady disputed the palm with Mrs, 
 Siddons : in such parts as Monimia, she pro- 
 bably surpassed her. Lady Randolph was 
 the character in which each struggled for pre- 
 eminence. Munden witnessed the perform- 
 ance of Lady Randolph by Mrs. Crawford 
 and Mrs. Siddons from the pit on successive 
 nights, being desirous of forming an estimate 
 of their respective merits. He was lost in 
 admiration of Mrs. Crawford's powers ; but 
 when, on the second night, he prepared to 
 dress for the farce, after Mrs. Siddons' per- 
 formance, his feelings were so powerfully af- 
 fected that he was incapable of rousing him- 
 self to comic effort without a stimulant. 
 
 The same season which witnessed the re- 
 tirement of Mr. Quick, and Mrs. Crawford, 
 beheld the return of another contemporary of 
 Garrick, after ten years absence, Mr. Smith, 
 the original Charles Surface, who played that 
 character for one night for the benefit of his 
 friend King. Though nearly seventy, he play- 
 ed with an animation and spirit which justi- 
 fied his earlier renown. 
 
 June 2, Our actor was, inconsiderately, per- 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 79 
 
 suaded to play Dromio of Syracuse to the 
 Dromio of Ephesus of a Mr. Rees, with per- 
 mission to that gentleman to imitate his voice 
 and mariner ; but the imitation was not suc- 
 cessful. Indeed, it would have been difficult 
 for any one to carry it on through a whole 
 play. Mr. Rees, who was really a good 
 mimic, in some dispute with old Astley, con- 
 vulsed the court with laughter, by delivering 
 his testimony in the odd tone of that eccentric 
 manager, who had preceded him in the exami- 
 nation, and had caused much merriment by 
 stating that he was proprietor of the Circus, 
 near the " obstacle" (obelisk). 
 
 In the summer of 1798, Munden was again 
 at the Haymarket. On the opening of Co- 
 vent Garden he continued his usual routine of 
 parts. Sept. 21, Emery, from York, made 
 his first appearance, in Frank Oatlands. Oct. 
 11, " Lover's Vows/ adapted from the Ger- 
 man, by Mrs. Inchbald, was acted, Munden 
 played Verdun. Dec. 8, Another new part 
 Bonus, in Reynold's comedy of " Laugh when 
 you can." April 8, 1799, was produced, 
 also from the German, " The Birth-Day," in 
 three acts. This was put together by T. 
 Dibdin, from a rude version of the original, 
 which had been in the hands of Mrs. Inch- 
 bald, who could make nothing of it. The 
 incidents, though simple, are highly affect- 
 ing, and as the piece has seldom been per- 
 
80 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 formed of late years, are here described : 
 Captain Bertram and his brother Mr. Ber- 
 tram have a violent family quarrel, in con- 
 sequence of a law-suit which has lasted fifteen 
 years, about a small garden. The difference 
 is greatly fomented by an intriguing house- 
 keeper, to serve her selfish ends. Jack Junk, 
 an honest tar, contrives that Emma, Mr. Ber- 
 tram's daughter, shall be introduced into her 
 uncle's presence to congratulate him on his 
 birth-day ; her interesting and artless demea- 
 nour, and pathetic representations win upon 
 the old man, and effect a reconciliation be- 
 tween the two brothers : the treacherous 
 housekeeper is immediately dismissed, and all 
 are made happy. Fawcett was excellent in 
 Jack Junk, and Munden always considered 
 that Captain Bertram was his chef d'ceuvre 
 in sentimental comedy ; so unique was his 
 performance, that few have attempted the part 
 since. Indeed the piece may be said to have 
 disappeared with him. 
 
 In the summer of 1799, he visited his early 
 friends at Lancaster, and played with Quick 
 at Birmingham. 
 
 The new pieces at Coven t- Garden, next 
 season, were " Novelty," a comedy, by Rey- 
 nolds: Lewis, Pope, Fawcett, Farley, Mun- 
 den, Mrs. Davenport, Mrs. Pope; and in 
 November, " The Turnpike Gate," a musical 
 farce, by Knight, the actor, which gave Mun- 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 81 
 
 den another comical part (Crack), in O'Keefe's 
 extravagant style, which, in spite of criticism 
 he made the most of, and the public liked 
 it. Nov. 30, He played Ava Thoanoa, in the 
 "Wise Men of the East," a comedy in five 
 acts, transmitted by Kotzebue to Mr. Harris, 
 for representation in this country, and adapted 
 to the stage by Mrs. Inchbald. It is, upon 
 the whole, an indifferent production. Jan. 16, 
 1800, he played in an unsuccessful piece by 
 Cumberland, entitled "Joanna," Feb. 8th, 
 1800, was performed " Speed the Plough, 11 
 by Morton, which added another laurel to that 
 author's brow. It was finely acted by Pope, 
 Fawcett, H. Johnston, Murray, Munden, Mrs. 
 H. Johnston, Miss Murray, Mrs. Davenport, 
 Mr. Knight. The latter gentleman, the pre- 
 decessor of the very clever little actor of the 
 same name, who performed in a similar line 
 some years afterwards, played Farmer Ash- 
 field in a most masterly style. In March, 
 commenced the dispute between the principal 
 actors of Covent-Garden Theatre and Mr. 
 Harris, the chief proprietor, in consequence 
 of certain edicts which that theatrical mo- 
 narch promulgated affecting their interests. 
 An appeal was made to the Lord Chamberlain 
 (Lord Salisbury), who declined to interfere in 
 such dispute in his official capacity, but ulti- 
 mately consented to become arbitrator. A 
 newspaper controversy ensued, in which the 
 
 E5 
 
82 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 actors manfully defended themselves against 
 anonymous attacks, in letters to which were 
 appended the signatures of John Johnstone, 
 G. Holman, Alexander Pope, Charles Iri- 
 cledon, Joseph S. Munden, John Fawcett, 
 Thomas Knight, and Henry E. Johnston ; but 
 the letters are supposed to have been written 
 by Mr. Holman, as the pamphlet afterwards 
 published certainly was. The main ground of 
 their complaint is the theatrical monopoly, 
 and the effect of it is thus forcibly denounced : 
 " The meanest individual of the persons 
 described (artisans), when dismissed from an 
 employment, or even when displeased with 
 his employer, may, if he possess honour and 
 industry, soon secure to himself a situation as 
 eligible as his former. No such resource is 
 open to the actor ; he must submit to every 
 species of oppression with which his employer 
 may choose to load him, or what is the alter- 
 native ? A suspension of the exercise of his 
 profession, to which he has devoted his time 
 and talents, and by which alone he can, conse- 
 quently, support himself and family." " The 
 rebellious eight," as they were styled, were 
 entertained at dinner, at the Garrick's Head, 
 in Bow-street, by the actors of Drury-lane, 
 Bannister, jun., C. Kemble, Kelly, Barrymore, 
 Dowton, &c. &c. They also received letters 
 from the retired comedians, Moody and King 
 (the last styling himself the Father of the 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 83 
 
 Stage), approving 1 of their proceedings. Lord 
 Salisbury delivered, in writing, dated third 
 May, his decision in the matter of the arbitra- 
 tion, deciding against the actors on every 
 point. The particular grievances are hardly 
 worth detailing at this distance of time, but 
 the augmentation of the charge on benefit 
 nights, from 140/. to 160/., and increase of 
 the fine on what was called the " sick clause,"* 
 appears to be harsh and sudden. The actors 
 complained, as might have been expected, 
 that the Lord Chamberlain was partial, and 
 hinted in private that the King's influence 
 had been exerted against them. His Majesty 
 was rather fond of interfering in matters that 
 were not strictly political ; but the insinuation 
 that with the leaven of the American war 
 still fermenting in his bosom, he was offended 
 at the terms "glorious rebellious eight 1 ' (a 
 foolish invention of Moody's), seems scarcely 
 credible. Lord Salisbury recommended " to 
 all parties an oblivion of what has passed in 
 the course of their disputes." Whether the 
 
 * Extract from a letter from Mr. Smith to the Editor of 
 ' The Morning Mirror,' dated Bury, Oct. 1798 : 
 
 " I believe the particular article of stoppage of salary in case 
 of sickness, was first introduced to check occasional indispo- 
 sition from caprice. I never had an article of that sort with 
 Mr Garrick or any other manager in my life. It was once pro- 
 posed to me, under the management of Mr. Beard, but I re- 
 fused, and never would sign it, thinking it a very oppressive 
 one." 
 
84 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 actors were oblivious or not, they had no 
 alternative but to submit. Mr. Harris cer- 
 tainly was not ; for he set his mark on all of 
 them, especially on Holman and Munden, 
 whom he looked upon as the ringleaders, and 
 he got rid of every one of them, at intervals, 
 (Holman very soon, it was not quite so con- 
 venient to part with Munden) as he could 
 spare them, with the exception of Fawcett. 
 As he had opposed Munden to Quick, so he 
 brought forward Fawcett in opposition to 
 Munden. This was easily effected by a disposi- 
 tion of parts, and there were not wanting under- 
 lings who would get an ill-natured paragraph 
 inserted in the newspapers to " crush those 
 singing birds/ 1 as another manager used to 
 term the popular actors. It ought here to be 
 mentioned in fairness, that Mr. Harris had, 
 without solicitation, considerably increased 
 Munden's salary, so soon as he perceived his 
 merit, and the service he rendered to the theatre. 
 An affecting spectacle 'was witnessed this 
 season. Poor O'Keefe, old and blind, was led 
 on the stage by Mr. Lewis, to deliver a fare- 
 well address on the occasion of his benefit, 
 which poverty forced him to require, and 
 which was generously accorded by the ma- 
 nager. With equal generosity Mr. Quick 
 and Mrs. Jordan volunteered their services, 
 and the performers presented the old invalided 
 dramatist with their salary for the night. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 85 
 
 Notwithstanding 1 the extravagance of O'- 
 Keefe's general conceptions, there are traces 
 of nature and simplicity in many of his pieces. 
 In " Wild Oats, 11 the best of them, who can 
 forget the effect which Mr. Knight (little 
 Knight) produced in making out an inventory 
 of the furniture about to be seized, and in the 
 proffer to " Have an apple ? " Besides, which 
 is much higher praise, his sentiments are al- 
 ways generous and benevolent, and his object 
 moral! As a farce writer, when confined 
 within the bounds of probability, he had few 
 equals. His situations are well contrived, and 
 the humour of the equivoque irresistible : wit- 
 ness some scenes in " A Beggar on Horse- 
 back." It seemed necessary to say something 
 of him here, as he wrote many parts expressly 
 for Munden, but his memoirs, written by him- 
 self, contain the best record of his career. In 
 his declining years, his chief amusement was to 
 have Scott's novels, which he greatly admired, 
 read to him. It is painful to learn that the per- 
 son who performed this kind office, inconsider- 
 ately read this passage : " From Shakespeare 
 to O'Keefe." " What is that ?" said O'Keefe. 
 " Oh! I comprehend : from the top to the bot- 
 tom of the ladder. He might have placed me 
 a few steps higher." For a moment or two he 
 was visibly affected. The generous spirit of 
 good Sir Walter would have scorned to inflict 
 intentional pain on the poor blind old man. 
 
86 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 During 1 the recess, Munden visited Dublin 
 with Bannister. They met with great success, 
 their benefits being very productive. Thence 
 they went to Birmingham, for one night only; 
 Bannister playing Dr. Pangloss and Silvester 
 Daggerwood, and his companion Zekiel Home- 
 spun and Nipperkin. Munden afterwards tra- 
 velled to Chester, where, before his old ad- 
 mirers, he sang several comic songs, gratui- 
 tously, for the benefit of the veteran, Lee 
 Lewis. His next engagement was at Liver- 
 pool, with Bannister, where " Speed the 
 Plough" brought crowded houses. Their 
 benefits were good : Bannister had 194/. and 
 Munden 198/. 
 
 The autumn of this year found Mr. Kemble 
 manager of Drury-Lane Theatre. Covent- 
 Garden opened with " Speed the Plough " and 
 "Hertford Bridge." Nov. 1, was produced 
 Reynolds'^ comedy of" Life," sustained by the 
 whole strength of the company. Munden was 
 Paul Primitive. At this period, George Fre- 
 derick Cooke made his first appearance on the 
 London boards, at Covent-Garden, and met 
 with unbounded applause. We have mentioned 
 the name of this actor more than once before, 
 perhaps irregularly, in these pages ; but, great 
 as his fame was in the provinces, and great as 
 were the expectations consequently entertained 
 of him by a London audience, the anticipation 
 seems to have fallen far below the reality. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 87 
 
 The following 1 is a cotemporary criticism from 
 " The Monthly Mirror" (vol. 10), a publication 
 of considerable merit, which has been freely 
 used in the compilation of this volume. 
 Speaking- of his Richard III., the writer ob- 
 serves 
 
 " Arduous as a character thus versatile must 
 be, it is yet one of the most favourable parts 
 which an able actor can possibly select for his 
 appearance. Such a man is Cooke who 
 seems to possess an active and capacious intel- 
 lect, with a profound knowledge of the science 
 of acting. He has read and thought for him- 
 self. He appears to have borrowed neither 
 from contemporary nor deceased excellence. 
 He sometimes passes over what have been 
 usually conceived to be great points in the 
 character, and he exalts other passages into 
 importance which former Richards have not 
 thought significant enough for particular no- 
 tice. His object seems to have been to form 
 a grand, characteristic, and consistent whole : 
 and that whole is the result of deep thinking, 
 and well directed study, judiciously adapted 
 to his individual powers of acting- ; for Mr. 
 Cooke not only thinks originally, but looks, 
 speaks, and walks unlike any other man we 
 ever saw. ' He is himself alone :' he is, there- 
 fore, in some degree, a mannerist ; but his set- 
 tled habits are not injurious to the characters 
 he has hitherto played, or is likely to play, at 
 
88 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Covent-Garden ; and his talents are so un- 
 commonly brilliant, that, though we cannot be 
 altogether blind to his defects, they are for- 
 gotten almost as soon as noticed. Admiration 
 supersedes objection ; and such are the insi- 
 nuating effects of his acting, that the pecu- 
 liarities, which rather offend at first, grow 
 more pleasing by degrees, and, before the 
 close of the performance, have lost nearly all 
 their weight in the scale of criticism." One 
 would think this was sufficiently encomiastic, 
 but the admiration of the spectators far tran- 
 scended such narrow limits. The critics of the 
 pit, shouting " Bravo !" until they were hoarse, 
 called out to Mr. Kemble, who was placidly 
 surveying the performance from a private box, 
 and whom, until they had got a new idol, they 
 had extolled above Henderson, " What do you 
 think of that, Kemble?" 
 
 The favourite of the town and his former 
 manager, Munden, met upon the most cordial 
 terms ; with what sincerity on the part of Mr. 
 Cooke will be seen in the sequel. 
 
 Cooke played, also, Shylock, Sir Pertinax 
 Macsycophant, and Sir Archy Macsarcasm, 
 with just and merited applause. The faculty 
 which he possessed of, as it has been termed, 
 " hitting hard " i. e., producing very forcible 
 effects told strongly in Shylock; and the 
 keen sarcasm, and deep dissimulation, which 
 formed the essence of his personal character, 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 89 
 
 greatly aided the personification of Sir Per- 
 tinax and Sir Archy; whilst his intuitive ap- 
 prehension, and the facility which he had ob- 
 tained of catching the Scotch dialect, from 
 his long engagement at Newcastle, close to 
 the Border, rendered his perfornlance of both 
 these characters as near perfection as pos- 
 sible. Macklin, it is said, surpassed him : he 
 certainly has never since been equalled in these 
 parts. Macklin possessed the natural temper 
 of Shylock : he was a savage man. He killed 
 Mr. Hallam, the father of Mrs. Mattocks, by 
 thrusting a stick into his eye in a moment of 
 ferocity. The clever miscellany, before al- 
 luded to, contains a brutal attack on Mr. Gar- 
 rick, after his decease, extracted, as a literary 
 curiosity, from Macklin's papers. In the same 
 periodical, Mr. Smith warmly defended the 
 memory of his departed friend from the impu- 
 tation of parsimony, relating several instances 
 of bounteous private charity within his own 
 knowledge. He might have added the fact 
 mentioned by Davies, that Garrick gave to 
 the committee of the Drury-Lane Theatrical 
 Fund a house in Drury-Lane bought it back 
 of them for the sum of 370/., and finally be- 
 queathed it to the fund in his will. He paid 
 the expenses of their Act of Parliament out of 
 his own pocket, and with the consent of Mr. 
 Lacy bestowed on the fund the receipts at his 
 last performance on the stage. Macklin's 
 
90 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 attack is evidently dictated by personal envy. 
 He could not leave Mr. Quick alone, although 
 that gentleman had mainly contributed to the 
 success of " Love a la Mode," by his clever 
 (the cleverest) performance of Beau Mordecai. 
 He published a letter to him, containing the 
 following coarse remarks, but the context in- 
 dubitably proves that they were dictated by the 
 inherent malignity of the man, aggravated by 
 Quick's superiority on the scene : " When 
 you first acted the part of Mordecai, in ' Love 
 a la Mode," you thought yourself so young in 
 the profession of an actor, and so inexperi- 
 enced, as to suffer yourself to be directed by 
 the author, how to dress, look, deport, and 
 speak that character, for your acting of which 
 you had his thanks, his praise, and his inte- 
 rest to get you retained in Covent-Garden 
 Theatre. 
 
 " But such is the nature of your improve- 
 ment in your profession, in that part in par- 
 ticular, that you neither dress it, look it, speak 
 it, nor deport it, as you were instructed, nor 
 as you used to do ; nay, you do not speak 
 the words nor the meaning of the author. In 
 short, friend Quick, you have made it quite 
 a different character from what the author 
 intended it, and from what it appeared when 
 you first acted it, and for some years after. 
 * * * * 
 
 " You, Sir, seem to be so high in your pro- 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 91 
 
 fession as to act in what manner you please 
 in a scene, without considering- how your act- 
 ing affects the person in the scene with you. 
 That is no affair of mine, unless it interferes 
 with me as a brother : in that case, I am as 
 tenacious to be relieved, as you are to offend ; 
 and I think I am justified when I resolve that 
 no actor shall indulge his consequence or his 
 policy by preventing the good effects of a 
 scene that I, by fair brotherly means, am 
 endeavouring to produce. This prevention 
 you have very often effected in ' Love a la 
 Mode/ and likewise in the trifling scene that 
 you have with me in ' The Merchant of 
 Venice/ though often requested, civilly, to 
 alter your conduct in it."" 
 
 Macklin, who died at the advanced age of 
 102, played until nearly the completion of his 
 century of years, when, his recollection failing 
 him during the performance, he was compelled 
 to retire. Stage tradition reports that he could 
 not, latterly, from physical weakness, summon 
 up the violence of passion necessary for Shy- 
 lock, in the scene with Tubal, and, when on 
 the point of rushing on the stage, he used to 
 call out to the prompter, " Kick my shins ; 
 kick my shins!" thus real pain brought forth 
 fictitious passion. 
 
 Mr. Cooke took his benefit in Jan. 1801, and 
 performed the Stranger. His receipts were 
 500/. ; and Mr. Harris was so pleased with 
 
92 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 his new actor, that he made him a present of the 
 charges of the night. When Munden's benefit 
 was approaching, Cooke, with great appear- 
 ance of earnestness, begged to know whether 
 he could be of any service. Munden replied, 
 " George, when you were with us, you used 
 to recite ( Collins's Ode to the Passions ' in a 
 very effective manner ; and, as you are so 
 great a favourite here, I think it would prove 
 an attraction." Cooke vowed that nothing 
 could give him more satisfaction. The night 
 came, but Cooke did not. The excuse was, 
 sudden indisposition. On another occasion, 
 Munden was induced by his entreaties and 
 protestations that he sought for an opportu- 
 nity to make up for his former neglect, to put 
 him in the bill for his benefit in a new cha- 
 racter, and took the pains to call upon him 
 arid ascertain that he was studying the cha- 
 racter previous to the rehearsal. In order 
 that there might be no allurement this time, 
 Munden invited him to dinner, saw that he 
 took only a moderate quantity of wine, and 
 walked arm and arm with him to the theatre. 
 At the door, Cooke shook his friend by the 
 hand, and said, " I wish you a bumper, Joe ! I 
 am going up to dress." When the time arrived 
 for the prologue to be spoken, Munden in- 
 quired, in all directions, " Where is Cooke ?" 
 " Mr. Cooke, Sir," said the door-keeper ; " why 
 he left the house the moment he parted from 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 93 
 
 you." To quarrel with such a man would 
 have been absurd ; and they, therefore, con- 
 tinued upon such terms as persons brought 
 into constant intercourse must be. Fortu- 
 nately Munden, having- his misgivings, had 
 taken the precaution to have the, part under- 
 studied by a respectable actor, and the au- 
 dience being, in a great part, composed of his 
 own personal friends were easily appeased. 
 
 Feb. 1801, " The Poor Gentleman" was a 
 novelty that met with great success. Ollapod 
 peculiarly suited the acting of Fawcett, and 
 was as effective as Dr. Pangloss. Sir Robert 
 Bramble was one of Munden's best parts : he 
 played it on his last appearance on the stage. 
 The actors did so much for the author, that it 
 is difficult to say who excelled. The Hon. 
 Lucretia M'Tab will hardly ever again have 
 such a representative as Mrs. Mattocks. That 
 lady had great gentility of manner, which she 
 had acquired by frequent intercourse with the 
 nobility : she was even admitted into the pre- 
 sence of royalty, and much regarded by Queen 
 Charlotte. This requisite was not shared by 
 her successors, who did not equal her in na- 
 tural humour ; in the latter quality, Mrs. Da- 
 venport came the nearest. The habit of pay- 
 ing deference to superiors in private life had 
 induced in Mrs. Mattocks a reserved manner, 
 which bore somewhat the appearance of hau- 
 teur. This put it into the head of some one 
 
94 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 of her waggish colleagues (I fear it was Mun- 
 den) to play off the following trick during the 
 rehearsal, when there was a large assemblage 
 of performers in the green-room, as well as on 
 the state. Perceiving a pot girl serving the 
 scene shifters with beer, the wag whispered 
 something in her ear, and pointed to the green- 
 room, at the upper end of which sat Mrs. 
 Mattocks in stately dignity. Her consterna- 
 tion may be better imagined than described, 
 when she beheld a little slatternly girl ap- 
 proach, and tender something she had in her 
 hand, exclaiming, in a shrill tone, " a glass of 
 gin and bitters for Mrs. Mattocks." A loud 
 laugh from the company made her sensible of 
 the joke, and she very good humouredly joined 
 in the merriment. 
 
 The great butt of the actors was Mrs. 
 Webb, a very fat woman, a contrast to Mrs. 
 Mattocks, as she was as coarse and vulgar as 
 the other was genteel. One sultry night, Mrs. 
 Webb, sitting in the green room waiting to be 
 called, had powdered her face profusely to 
 allay the perspiration that flowed down her 
 cheeks. This being observed, the call boy 
 was bribed to wait till the last moment, when 
 he rushed in and exclaimed, " Mrs. Webb, the 
 stage waits for you." " My God !" said Mrs. 
 Webb ; and forgetting altogether her disha- 
 bille, hastened, as fast as her corpulency 
 would allow her, to present herself before the 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 95 
 
 audience, who received her, in her mottled 
 state, with shouts of laughter. Another time, 
 standing by the side scenes, a string was fast- 
 ened to her dress, which only allowed her to 
 step in view of the audience, when her pro- 
 gress was suddenly arrested. J.- Aikin was 
 a very nervous man, and it was Munden's 
 amusement, when Aikin was engaged in the 
 serious business of the stage, to catch his eye 
 with an expression of countenance seeming to 
 signify that his dress was disarranged, or that 
 some other mishap had occurred, which kept 
 poor Aikin in an agony of suspense until the 
 scene was over. But Incledon was their pro- 
 lific subject. His perpetual boasts furnished 
 an ample theme. One about the quality of 
 his voice, which he said had been improved by 
 swallowing, in mistake, a quantity of train oil, 
 provoked the sarcasm of Charles Bannister, 
 (alluding to his ungraceful walk) that he had 
 better have " swallowed a dancing master." 
 He was actually persuaded to suck something, 
 on the assurance that it was good for the 
 voice, and even John Kemble forgot his dig- 
 nity and joined in the recommendation. One 
 day, at rehearsal, he boasted that he had at 
 at home such Madeira as could be found no 
 where else ; and, on some expression of doubt, 
 despatched a messenger to his house with the 
 key of the cellar, desiring Mrs. Incledon to 
 send a bottle from such and such a bin. The 
 
96 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 wine was brought and duly approved of; but 
 Munden observing where Incledon deposited 
 the key, picked his pocket, and told the mes- 
 senger to return with Mr. Incledon's love to 
 his wife, for a second bottle, directing that it 
 should be deposited in his own dressing-room. 
 When apprized that all was ready, he said, 
 " Charles, your Madeira is very good, but I 
 think I have some upstairs that will match 
 it." Other actors, in the secret, were invited 
 to be umpires, and declared nem. con. that 
 Munden 1 s was the best ; an opinion in which 
 the vocalist himself joined. Munden and In- 
 cledon, when at Plymouth, were invited to 
 dine with the Port-Admiral. In the course 
 of the evening Incledon was missing, and on 
 search being made, was found below surround- 
 ed by a group of the common sailors, with 
 whom he was drinking grog, and singing 
 " The Storm," " The Bay of Biscay," " Black 
 Eyed Susan," and a host of nautical songs to 
 an enraptured, if not an enlightened, audi- 
 ence. This scene has been described by Mr. 
 Westmacott in a weekly newspaper, in the 
 words in which Munden used to relate 
 it. March 28, 1801, Cooke played, with 
 Lewis as Wellborn, and Munden as Marrall, 
 the character of Sir Giles Overreach, for Mr. 
 Lewis's benefit. He played with great dis- 
 crimination and astonishing force. In the 
 summer of 1801, Munden went to Dublin with 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 97 
 
 Incledon. They had very full houses on their 
 benefit nights. Munden had nearly 500/. He 
 received liberal offers to proceed to Cork and 
 Limerick, but was prevented by a previous 
 engagement at Birmingham. 
 
 Cooke was playing about the same time all 
 his characters at Edinburgh. An Edinburgh 
 critic takes a little of the gilt off the ginger- 
 bread of London applause in Richard III.: 
 
 " I cannot unqualifiedly compliment the judgment of Mr. 
 Cooke in his representation of this character. In the most 
 unnatural courtship scene, with Lady Anne, when much more 
 than " a tongue to wheedle with the devil" was necessary, to 
 bury in oblivion the hardly cold embers of a murdered father- 
 in-law, and a butchered husband, the same insulting, exulting, 
 malignant expression overspread his countenance, as when 
 paying his addresses to the widowed queen. Upon the whole, 
 his Richard, though a forcible, was not a fine representation. 
 It resembled the image of Nebuchadnezzar, described by the 
 prophet Daniel, much iron, much brass, much clay, some 
 silver, and a little gold." 
 
 This is a just criticism. Those who beheld 
 the late Mr. Kean in the scene with Lady 
 Anne will easily comprehend the difference. 
 
 Little can be said of our comedian beyond 
 the detail of his usual performances, until 
 October, when he played Peter Post Obit (a 
 Legacy-hunter) in a comedy by Reynolds, en- 
 titled " Folly as it Flies," and spoke a humor- 
 ous epilogue. In the vacation he played at 
 Liverpool with other " stars, " and had the 
 
 F 
 
98 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 largest benefit, larger even than Mrs. Bil- 
 lingtou's. 
 
 February 9, 1802, A new opera, "The 
 Cabinet," by T. Dibdin, was very success- 
 ful : though moderately written, the excel- 
 lence of the music, and the singing of 
 Braham, Incledon, and Storace, carried it 
 through triumphantly. Munden played Pe- 
 ter, a British seaman, and sang some clap- 
 trap songs, adapted to the times, with great 
 applause. The author received from the the- 
 atre one of the largest sums ever paid for an 
 opera, and Braham is reported to have sold 
 his share in the music for four hundred 
 guineas. 
 
 Mr. Kemble visited Paris in August 1802, 
 and was treated with great distinction. The 
 Actors of the " Comdie Francaise" received 
 him with all the respect due to the " Le 
 Kain of England, " at a superb banquet, 
 where Talma did the honors. The intimacy, 
 thus commenced between these eminent ac- 
 tors, continued to the latest period. Talma 
 was present at the dinner given to Mr. Kem- 
 ble, at the Freemason's Tavern, on his retire- 
 ment from the stage. To the writer, who 
 sat next to him, he expressed the warm ad- 
 miration he felt for the man, whom he termed 
 the first of English tragedians. 
 
 To the same party he intimated a desire to 
 play in English, at one of our national the- 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 99 
 
 atres, and was candidly advised not to attempt 
 it, as, though he spoke the language intelli- 
 gibly in conversation, his foreign accent 
 was too apparent in recitation. In re- 
 turning thanks for his health being proposed 
 at the dinner in question, he commenced : 
 " Although I cannot tank you vid my words, 
 I do vid my heart :" and concluded by propo- 
 sing : " prosperity to the English nation and 
 the English stage. " The first part of this 
 toast rendered him a little unpopular with the 
 republicans, of whom he was a disciple ; and 
 yet, strange to say, he was a Buonapartist. 
 Though much courted by Louis the Eighteenth, 
 he cherished the memory of Napoleon, with 
 whom he had been intimately connected in early 
 life; and in some part, wherein there were allu- 
 sions that applied to the Emperor, he walked 
 from one side of the stage to the other, with his 
 hands behind him, in striking resemblance to 
 the fallen hero. The audience hailed the per- 
 sonification with shouts of applause, and the 
 play became so popular, that the police were 
 obliged to interfere, and forbade the attitude ; 
 yet, notwithstanding the prohibition, he con- 
 tinued to walk across the stage, but with his 
 hands crossed before him. Talma, still 
 hankering to give the English public " a taste 
 of his quality," played several scenes, each 
 selected from one of his best parts, in con- 
 junction with Mdlle. George, in the Concert 
 
 F 2 
 
100 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Room, at the Opera House. He was a very 
 energetic actor, and managed, with great 
 skill, to prevent the recurrence of French 
 rhymes being sensible to the ear. Matthews 
 gave an imitation of Talma which, though 
 " outr6," was a resemblance. 
 
 The next new production, worthy of notice 
 at Covent Garden, was T. Dibdin's Opera 
 of " Family Quarrels," in which Munden sang 
 a comic song, commencing " Gaffer Grist, 
 Gaffer's son, and his little jack-ass trotting 
 along the road," which was very popular. 
 March 5, 1803, Mr. Colman brought forward, 
 at Covent-Garden, his Comedy of " John 
 Bull,*' the copy-right of which he sold to 
 Mr. Harris. It completely succeeded. Mr. 
 Cooke had the advantage of an original part, 
 Peregrine, which he played very finely. 
 Equally great was Fawcett, in Job Thorn- 
 berry. It has been supposed, erroneously, 
 that the assignment of this part to Fawcett, 
 instead of to himself, was the cause of Mun- 
 den's subsequent retirement from Covent Gar- 
 den. True it is that he refused the part of 
 Sir Simon Rochdale, which was beneath the 
 standard of his talents. Colman, who, like 
 Morton, was a fine reader, threw all the 
 effect he possibly could into this part, when 
 reading the play in the green-room, in the 
 hope of inducing Munden to play it. The 
 comedian listened, without a comment, until 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 101 
 
 the conclusion, and then pithily remarked, 
 with a significant look, " It won't do, 
 George." 
 
 May 10, Cooke performed lago, for Mr. 
 Cooper's benefit at Drury Lane. The second 
 Mrs. Pope (late Mrs. Spencer), a very clever 
 actress and amiable woman, was taken seri- 
 ously ill on the stage, to the great alarm of 
 the audience, and was obliged to be removed. 
 She died a few days afterwards, and was 
 buried in the same tomb with her husband's 
 first exemplary wife, in the cloisters of West- 
 minster Abbey. 
 
 May 16, Mr. Colman opened the Haymar- 
 ket, with a company of his own, chiefly se- 
 lected from the provincial boards. Amongst 
 the number, was Mr. Matthews, from York, 
 the comedian who afterwards attained to such 
 deserved celebrity, and Mr. Blisset, from 
 Bath, who played Falstaff, and who is re- 
 ported to have been a performer of comic 
 parts far above mediocrity, though he never 
 made a stand in the metropolis. The Liver- 
 pool Theatre was offered for sale : the chief 
 bidders were, Messrs. Lewis and Knight, and 
 Messrs. Munden and Bannister (so says the 
 Monthly Mirror qy. Fawcett ?) The former 
 sent in the highest tender. It was an un- 
 lucky miss on the part of Munden, for the 
 new proprietors acquired during their manage- 
 ment large fortunes. 
 
102 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The Liverpool managers opened with great 
 spirit. They had newly decorated the house in 
 a very elegant manner, and engaged a strong 
 company, a part whereof was allured from 
 the London boards. The first performance, 
 after an address written by T. Dibdin, was 
 "Speed the Plough," in which Mr. Knight per- 
 formed his original character of Farmer Ash- 
 field ; Sir Abel Handy, Mr. Simmons ; Miss 
 Blandford, Mrs. Mountain ; Robert Handy, 
 Mr. Young. On the succeeding nights, Eme- 
 ry played in " A Cure for the heartache," and 
 Mrs. Glover in "The Jealous Wife;" Mr.Lewis, 
 in a variety of characters, and Mr. Cooper in 
 Richard and Macbeth. A novel idea seeins 
 to have struck the proprietors.* " A prize 
 brought into Liverpool (French) had on 
 board thirty gentlemen and ladies. The 
 manager, humanely wishing to soften the 
 rigors of captivity, politely offered them a 
 free admission to the theatre, which they 
 with joy accepted ; and they nightly attended, 
 escorted in parties of ten or a dozen." Faw- 
 cett played in July, and was followed by 
 Munden. 
 
 In August (1803) Munden went to Dublin 
 with the facetious Jack Johnstone. They 
 arrived at the very commencement of the re- 
 bellion. The body of Lord Kilwarden, who 
 
 * Monthly Mirror, vol. 16, pp. 65. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 103 
 
 had been dragged out of his carriage, and 
 murdered by the rebels in open day, was car- 
 ried through the streets on the first morning 
 of their arrival ; martial law proclaimed ; and 
 no person permitted to be out after eight 
 o'clock. This seemed an unpropitious sea- 
 son for theatrical purposes : but they hit upon 
 the expedient of giving their performances at 
 noon-day, and their benefits were intensely 
 crowded. They lodged together, and Jack 
 Johnstone catered for their dinner. He had a 
 peculiar fondness for poultry, and when asked 
 by his companion every morning what they 
 should have for dinner, regularly replied with 
 great gravity, " Suppose we have a fowl. " 
 Major Surr, the Police Magistrate, gave Mun- 
 den the pike-head of the rebel chieftain, which 
 he long preserved. 
 
 In returning to England Munden had a 
 narrow escape. The vessel in which he in- 
 tended, but was prevented from sailing with, 
 was wrecked passing the bar. Several of the 
 passengers were lost. Amongst the persons 
 on board was Incledon, who had been a sailor, 
 and who saved himself by climbing to the 
 round-top, with his wife lashed to him. They 
 were many hours in this perilous condition, 
 and were at length picked up by some fisher- 
 men who saw their distress from the shore. 
 Munden lost his baggage in the wreck ; it 
 
104 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 was valuable, as it consisted chiefly of his 
 stag-e wardrobe. 
 
 The Dublin manager headed the bills with 
 a pedantical word, implying union of talent. 
 Soon after M undents return to England, he 
 g-ave a dinner party at his house in Kentish 
 Town, consisting- of Quin, who had acted in 
 the country under the name of Stanton, but 
 who was then engaged in literary pursuits, 
 and subsequently edited the newspaper called 
 " The New Times," Harry Johnston, George 
 Cooke, and Tom Hill,* of pleasant memory, 
 
 * A word in reference to this inoffensive and good-natured 
 man. Not many years previous to his death, he shewed me a 
 letter from one of the finest scholars and greatest poets of which 
 England can boast, now dead himself to that literature which 
 he has so long adorned. It contained these expressions : " I 
 am glad to see you, my old friend, after so long an absence ; 
 and to see that Time has laid his hands upon you so lightly." 
 Alas ! that Time should at last have laid his roughest hand 
 upon him ! upon him whom the good humoured witticism of 
 one friend represented as having been born before the great 
 fire of London; and another, as one of "the eternal Hills." 
 I will not say, " we could have better spared a better man ;" 
 but I will say, we could not spare Tom Hill : he was a 
 necessary adjunct to society. Those who have read of him 
 as Theodore Hook's " Mr. Hull," and how he prided himself 
 on the abundance of good things around him, will understand 
 the earnestness with which, even in his last moments, he 
 raised himself, upon seeing the nurses at his closet, and ex- 
 claimed, " There they are at work upon my thirty years' old 
 brandy." His "pooh! pooh!" still seems to ring in the 
 ear. T. S, M. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 150 
 
 then chief proprietor of the " Monthly Mir- 
 ror." The word in question being- the subject 
 of criticism, Quin insisted that it was not an 
 English word ; whilst Munden as vehemently 
 urged that it was, and offered to back his 
 assertion by a bet of 100/. Mrs. Munden, 
 alarmed lest her husband should lose his 
 money, ran up stairs for a dictionary, and a 
 latinism was presumed to decide the question. 
 Cooke, who had offered no opinion, but who 
 was half drunk, then fell foul of the literary 
 man with all the bitterness of his sarcasm, 
 and became so insufferably galling 1 , that Quin's 
 temper forsook him, and he rose to decide the 
 question by a manual argument. The host 
 got between the combatants, took George 
 Frederick by the arm into the next room, and 
 locking him in, returned to appease the irri- 
 tated author. The feast was broken up by 
 the departure of the guests, the door unlocked, 
 but Munden, knowing- his man, would not 
 suffer him to remain in the house all night ; 
 the footman led, or, rather, conveyed him to 
 the nearest public-house, where a bed was 
 prepared for him. After each successive glass 
 of brandy and water, Cooke rose higher in his 
 attempts to bamboozle the landlord. He re- 
 presented himself as a person of great conse- 
 quence and wealth, who intended to leave all 
 his property to Mr. Munden's eldest daughter. 
 This was followed by sundry other conceits, 
 
 F 5 
 
106 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 until falling asleep, wearied with the vagaries 
 of his own imagination, he was carried to bed. 
 The next morning, when sent for to breakfast, 
 it was found that he had departed, on foot, 
 for town. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 107 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 John Kemble and Cooke on the same stage 111 success of 
 their amicable arrangement Our actor in Scotland Frog- 
 more fete The Young Roscius The country gentleman's 
 mishap " School for Reform "Emery in Tyke " Who 
 wants a guinea" First appearance of Mr. Liston The 
 sensitive tailors Mr. Hargrave's sudden departure from the 
 stage Claremont and George III. "Mother Goose" 
 Munden's Sir Bashful Constant " Town and Country " 
 Remarks on " The Wheel of Fortune," and Kemhle's Pen- 
 ruddock First appearance of Mr. Young Anecdotes of 
 Mr. Lewis Cooke out of gaol Revival of "The Two 
 Gentlemen of Verona" Munden in Launce and his Dog 
 
 " SPEED THE PLOUGH" was the performance 
 at the opening 1 of Covent Garden Theatre in the 
 season commencing Sept. 12, 1803, with the 
 usual cast. Mr. Cooke afterwards made his first 
 appearance in Kitely, which he played with 
 great skill and effect. He was now placed in 
 direct contrast on the same stage with Mr. 
 Kemble, who, with his sister, Mrs. Siddons, 
 his brother Charles, and Mr. H. Siddons, was 
 engaged at this theatre. An amicable arrange- 
 ment was effected between Cooke and Kemble, 
 whereby each agreed to play, occasionally, 
 second rate parts to the other; but it some- 
 
108 
 
 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 how or other occurred, that in the selection of 
 the parts, Kemble's were generally very good 
 second rates, whilst Cooke's nearly receded to 
 third rates. The latter saw through this, and 
 resented it in his usual way, by marring the 
 performance through the brandy-bottle or ab- 
 sentation. He cared little for the audience, 
 and knew he was too valuable to be dismissed. 
 The first result of this " amicable arrange- 
 ment" was on the 3rd Oct., when Kemble 
 played Richmond to Cooke's Richard III. 
 Oct. 6th, " Douglas" was performed : Old 
 Norval, Kemble ; Glenalvon, Cooke ; Douglas, 
 H. Siddons ; Lady Randolph, Mrs. Siddons. 
 17th, " Pizarro :" Rolla, Kemble ; Elvira, Mrs. 
 Siddons ; Pizarro, Cooke. The smothered 
 flame of discord now broke forth. Mr. Cooke 
 betrayed " evident marks of indisposition," 
 and was utterly unable to proceed. After a 
 few ineffectual efforts, he withdrew from the 
 stage amidst violent uproar, and Mr. H. Sid- 
 dons played the part in his stead. Jan. 9, 
 1804, Henry IV., part 2nd, advertized for 
 this evening, was obliged to be postponed on 
 account of Mr. Cooke's illness. When these 
 illnesses occurred, Brandon, the box-keeper, 
 who knew his haunts, was generally de- 
 spatched to look after him. On one occasion, 
 when all topics of persuasion had been ex- 
 hausted, he bethought himself of appealing to 
 Cooke's loyalty, which with him was a pas- 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 109 
 
 sion, and said, "George, the king- is at the 
 theatre ; will you keep his Majesty waiting- ?" 
 " Is he," exclaimed Cooke, rising, with an 
 oath, " then I'll shew his Majesty such a piece 
 of acting as he never saw in his life ;" and 
 went quietly to the theatre. We have dwelt 
 at some length on matters not appertaining to 
 our subject, because the appearance of the 
 rival tragedians, and of Mrs. Siddons, on the 
 the same boards, was an epoch in the history 
 of Covent Garden, and rendered comedy for a 
 time unfashionable. Dec. 17th, " Henry IV., 
 part 2nd," did appear. Kemble, as King 
 Henry ; Charles Kemble, as the Prince ; Cooke, 
 Falstaff; and Munden, Justice Shallow. Cooke 
 gained great applause as Falstaff, and Mun- 
 den added to his reputation by his acting in 
 the Justice. Our hero afterwards played in 
 two original pieces : " The Paragraph," an 
 opera, by Prince Hoare, composed by Braham ; 
 and " The Will for the Deed," a comedy, by 
 T. Dibdin. 
 
 In the summer recess, our actor performed 
 eight nights at Glasgow, after Master Betty 
 (the Young Roscius), who was then making, 
 by slow degrees, his triumphal progress from 
 theatre to theatre towards the field of his fame 
 the metropolis. At Glasgow, Munden drew 
 crowded houses, arid had a " bumper benefit " 
 (110/.) numbers being sent from the doors 
 for want of room. Thence he repaired to 
 
110 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Edinburgh, where his success appears to have 
 been different, according- to the following re- 
 port at the time : " Mr. Munden was with 
 us, I think, eight nights, and performed some 
 of his most attractive characters. To enlarge 
 upon the vis comica of this very great actor 
 in a London work, 'would be wasteful and 
 ridiculous excess/ and equally absurd as a 
 dissertation upon the science of Kemble, the 
 force of Cooke, and the comic talent of 
 Jordan. 
 
 " Sorry am I to state, that this greatest of 
 comedians frequently performed to the small- 
 est of audiences (one or two did not exceed 
 25/.) The very best London comic actor does 
 not always succeed here. I believe Bannister 
 alone added to his fame in Edinburgh. 
 
 "I esteem the Sir Robert Bramble of Mun- 
 den (in "The Poor Gentleman") a chef 
 d^ceuvre in acting. It was doubtful whether 
 genuine humour or unadulterated feeling was 
 most predominant, or more finely depicted. 
 
 " Munden's Scrub did not equal my hopes : 
 I thought it inferior to that of Quick. The 
 overdoing a character, rendered by the author 
 ridiculous to the last verge of probability, is 
 like caricaturing a caricature. The laugh 
 it excites is too much akin to that at Bar- 
 tholomew Fair to please me in a Theatre 
 Royal. 
 
 " Munden's Jemmy Jumps may be admired 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. Ill 
 
 by those who understand the character. I 
 can easily conceive the mere extemporaneous 
 effusions of half a dozen good comic actors 
 may excite merriment either at Frogmore or 
 any Dutch fair ; but, in a farce like this, sup- 
 ported as I saw it, the powers of Munden, 
 amidst the surrounding- dulness, were like 
 illuminating a whole theatre by a single light, 
 only making 
 
 ' Darkness more visible.* " 
 
 The allusion to Frogmore refers to a morn- 
 ing fte given by King George III., in the 
 open air, at which some of the London per- 
 formers were commanded to attend, and sta- 
 tioned in different parts of the grounds to sing 
 and afford amusement to the royal guests. 
 His Majesty having expressed a wish for a 
 repetition of some song of Incledon's or Mun- 
 den's, it was respectfully intimated that they 
 had to perform at Covent-Garden in the even- 
 ing, and that the time was approaching. 
 " Then, pray," said the good old King, " go 
 at once. I will not have my people disap- 
 pointed;" and, turning to the Prince of Wales, 
 " George, oblige me by seeing Mr. Munden 
 and Mr. Incledon to their carriage." His 
 Royal Highness, with his usual affable deport- 
 ment, took each of the actors by the arm, 
 and, the police-constables making a passage 
 through the dense crowd, walked with them 
 
112 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 to the spot where their post-chaise was in 
 waiting, saw them into it, and shook hands at 
 parting. 
 
 Previously to returning to London, for the 
 winter season, Munden visited Liverpool, with 
 Fawcett, and Emery. They had for their 
 benefits, respectively, 278/., 206/. 13s., and 
 234/. 
 
 Oct. 8, Miss Duncan (now Mrs. Davison) made 
 her first appearance at Drury-Lane, as Lady 
 Teazle a bold attempt after Miss Farren and 
 Mrs. Abington and performed the character 
 with great eclat. The father of this lady was 
 in our actor's Chester company; and, if we 
 mistake not, Munden was Miss Duncan's god- 
 father. 
 
 Covent-Garden opened in September; and, 
 on the 5th Oct., Cooke appeared in Sir Per- 
 tinax, " and was applauded to the very echo, 
 that did applaud again." 
 
 Dec. 1, The anxiously-expected prodigy 
 the " Young Roscius" after a journey, which 
 seemed an ovation, reached the London boards. 
 His reception was so remarkable, that we trust 
 we may be excused for departing for a space 
 from our subject, and giving some account of 
 his first appearance, from the pages of our 
 useful friend, " The Monthly Mirror" (vol 18, 
 p. 420): 
 
 " The loud fame which preceded Master 
 Betty's arrival in London, produced a degree 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 113 
 
 of curiosity unknown in the annals of the 
 theatrical world. So great was the anxiety 
 to behold this youthful performer, that several 
 persons sought to conceal themselves in the 
 house on Friday night, in the hope of remain- 
 ing there, unperceived, until the returning 
 night. So early as twelve o'clock on Satur- 
 day, the approaches to the various parts of 
 the theatre were besieged by people clamorous 
 for admission ; and between one and two they 
 became crowded. The managers, anticipating 
 this result, had taken every precaution against 
 its consequences. A great number of Bow- 
 street officers and constables were called in to 
 preserve the public peace, and prevent riot 
 and confusion. A large party of soldiers were 
 also stationed at the several doors, to protect 
 the people against the necessary and fatal re- 
 sult of the indiscriminate rush of such an 
 immense tide. About half-past four o^clock 
 the crowd became so great, that most serious 
 apprehensions were entertained for the lives 
 of several persons, who were fainting away 
 under the pressure, and to whom, in the midst 
 of the impenetrable mass, no assistance could 
 be afforded on the outside. It was therefore 
 thought advisable to open the Bow-street 
 door, though a full hour earlier than usual, 
 with a view to accommodate the besiegers, and 
 relieve them from the pressure which they had 
 so long endured. In an instant the tide rushed 
 
114 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 in, and took possession of the exterior door 
 and the bar at the lobby, where the entrance- 
 money is received. As only one can pass at 
 a time, and some delay is necessary, for the 
 receipt and examination of the money and 
 tickets, the slowness of the movement of those 
 in the van but ill accorded with the impatience 
 of those in the rear. The pressure in that 
 part of the lobby became infinitely greater, 
 and its effects more alarming, than they had 
 previously experienced in the open street. 
 They broke all the windows on each side of 
 the entrance, for the benefit of the air; yet 
 the heat and pressure still continued so great, 
 as every moment to threaten suffocation. A 
 board was now displayed, announcing that the 
 boxes were all full. This communication, 
 however, though corresponding with the fact, 
 did not operate to diminish the pressure, and 
 they continued rushing in with impetuosity 
 until after six o'clock. One-half at least of 
 all those who suffered this fatigue and danger, 
 were obliged to return ungratified. Nearly 
 the same confusion that prevailed without was 
 observable within the house, in the early part 
 of the night. The pit was almost instantly 
 filled by persons who leapt into it from the 
 boxes ; and many battles took place with the 
 Bow-street officers, who were endeavouring to 
 secure the places for those who had retained 
 them. The few parties who reached their 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 115 
 
 seats were guarded by an escort of constables. 
 The confusion did not abate even upon the 
 rising of the curtain." Mr. Charles Kemble 
 came forward to speak an address, written 
 by Mr. Taylor,* of prologue celebrity, which 
 told of 
 
 " A youth your favour courts, whose early prime 
 Derides the tedious growth of ling'ring Time ; 
 Mature at once, when Nature urged, he strove, 
 Starting, like Pallas, from the brain of Jove." 
 
 * John Taylor wrote more prologues and epilogues than 
 any man living, then or since. He was the author of the 
 rhymed tale of " Monsieur Tonson." It is not so generally 
 known that he was the original of Sneer, in " The Critic." 
 Dangle was a Mr. Dives, a very ill-natured person, who, with 
 his brother, held some share in the theatre. The good- 
 natured Dives once accosted Charles Bannister, during a re- 
 hearsal, with the question, " Pray, Sir, did you see my brother 
 cross?" (i.e., cross the stage) "Sir," replied the sarcastic 
 Charles, " I never saw him otherwise." Henceforth he never 
 lost the sobriquet of " Cross Dives." " Sir Fretful Plagiary" 
 was a spiteful attack upon Cumberland, which came with a bad 
 grace from Sheridan, who stole from Fielding, the Duke of 
 Buckingham, Vanbrugh, and Congreve, and even from himself. 
 It is supposed that the provocation was a remark reported to 
 have been made by Cumberland, at the theatre, on the first 
 representation of " The School for Scandal ;" but Cumberland 
 asserts in his Memoirs that he was at Bath at the time. Cum- 
 berland was a gentleman and a scholar qualities in which he 
 might challenge a comparison with the manager who libelled 
 him. His translations in the Observer are hardly surpassed 
 by the best in our language, Dr. Carey's " Dante," and 
 " Wallenstein," by Coleridge. 
 
116 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 It could not be very pleasant to Mr. Charles 
 Kemble, considering the station he held in the 
 theatre, to blow the trumpet before the youth- 
 ful aspirant, but every thing 1 gave way to the 
 overwhelming torrent of public acclamation. 
 Still the tumult continued, and not even Mr. 
 Taylor's nonsense lulled it. " The pressure 
 was so great in the pit, that several men were 
 overcome with the heat, and lifted up into the 
 boxes, from whence they were carried out of 
 the house." Little of the first act of the play 
 (Barbarossa) was heard. " At length the 
 youthful hero entered. It is not possible to 
 describe the tumultuous uproar of applause 
 which marked his reception. He was hailed 
 with 
 
 1 shouts 
 
 Loud as from numbers without number.' " 
 
 This is not the place to discuss the merits 
 of the " Young Roscius." Opinions differed 
 at the time, but even the most moderate con- 
 sidered that he possessed extraordinary abi- 
 lities, greatly aided by the skilful instruction 
 of Mr. Hough. Mrs. Siddons, though more 
 than one effort was made by the critics to extort 
 from her an expression of opinion in accord- 
 ance with the fevered pulse of the public, could 
 only be induced to say, " He is a clever boy;" 
 and, with the stern spirit of Portia and Vo- 
 lumnia, she kept proudly aloof from the scene 
 of noise and madness. No one would repu- 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 117 
 
 diate more than Mr. Betty himself the extra- 
 vagant encomiums of his early idolaters, 
 some of whom pretended that he left Gar- 
 rick at a distance, and bade Kemble 
 and Cooke " hide their diminished heads." 
 The writer saw " The Young' Roscius" 
 in " Oronooko" and " Douglas," but was 
 too young to form a judgment of his act- 
 ing. He recollects the ease and grace with 
 which, after kissing the ground, he recovered 
 himself, in " Oronooko." Mr. Betty after- 
 wards played in his maturer years, but was 
 then as strangely neglected as he had been 
 immoderately eulogised. He walked at a 
 later period in a procession, in honour of 
 Shakspeare, as Hamlet, and personified the 
 character, though in dumb show, with great 
 judgment, and correct expression. 
 
 The public, not satisfied with fostering the 
 efforts of this clever boy in his professional ca- 
 pacity, took the care of his health out of the 
 hands of his parents, and Mr. Betty, sen., was 
 obliged to address a letter to the newspapers, 
 which contained the following sensible re- 
 marks : " It cannot but be painful for a pa- 
 rent to feel himself under the necessity of 
 making stipulations with the public, that he 
 will not be a careless or negligent guardian 
 of his son. In any other case such a neces- 
 sity would imply suspicion of the father ; in 
 the present I am aware that it has been 
 
118 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 produced merely by a solicitude for the son. 
 Under this impression, I can have no objec- 
 tion to pledge, in the most solemn manner, 
 that, whilst I will use every means to pre- 
 vent my son from injuring his health, by too 
 great and frequent efforts of his, I will take 
 care that the fortune and fruits of his efforts 
 shall not be destroyed nor impaired by any 
 improper conduct or negligence of mine." 
 
 When indisposition did occur, occasioned, 
 doubtless, by the excitement in which the boy 
 was kept by the popular frenzy, both in and 
 out of the theatre, bulletins were regularly 
 issued by his physicians, and the street in 
 which he resided was blockaded by the car- 
 riages of the nobility, who waited, in long 
 succession, to leave a card at his door, and 
 inquire after his health. 
 
 With the waywardness of a petted child, 
 who, when it has a new doll, breaks the 
 head of its former favourite, the public, not 
 satisfied with applauding Master Betty, must 
 needs hiss the other actors that appeared on 
 the scene with him. On the very first night, 
 they began with Mr. Hargrave, a gentleman 
 of highly respectable connexions, whose real 
 name was Snow, and who having a penchant 
 for theatricals, had quitted the army to in- 
 dulge in it. Mr. Hargrave had always ac- 
 quitted himself creditably as an actor, and had 
 never met with disapprobation until this oc- 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 119 
 
 casion : how he revenged himself for such 
 unjust treatment, will be related hereafter. 
 
 The managers of Drury-lane, anxious to 
 reap some of the ears of this golden harvest, 
 engaged Master Betty at their theatre also, 
 where he appeared on the 10th of Dec. with 
 the same rapturous applause. 
 
 Such a fortunate youth was not likely to 
 remain without imitators; and, accordingly, 
 in process of time, a host of Roscii, of both 
 sexes, presented themselves to public view, 
 until the metropolitan theatres seemed threa- 
 tened to be transformed into temples of Lil- 
 liput. 
 
 Before dismissing the subject of " The 
 Young Roscius," we must relate a whimsical 
 occurrence which is said to have taken place 
 during one of his performances. A country 
 gentleman, who had come to town on busi- 
 ness, was anxious to report to his neighbours 
 that he had seen this fashionable phenomenon. 
 He had but one night to spare, but he re- 
 solved to devote it to the theatre. He took 
 his station in the avenue to the pit ; but, un- 
 fortunately, among the last of the throng. 
 It was the custom when the pit was full, to 
 fasten the folding doors by a screw. Our 
 country visitor, in the vortex of the rushing 
 crowd, was turned round with his back to the 
 stage. From such a position it was impos- 
 sible that he could extricate himself. In this 
 
120 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 " no room for standing 1 , miscalled standing 
 room/' he listened to the affecting 1 accents of 
 Young Norval, scene after scene, but he 
 never saw him ! When the play was ended the 
 screw revolved, and he was released from his 
 durance, with the barren consolation of being 
 able to report to his country friends, that he 
 had heard "the Young Roscius," of whose 
 person and figure he could not form the slight- 
 est conception, except from report. 
 
 The success of Master Betty gave the co- 
 medians something like a holiday. Munden, 
 who, in later days, when personally acquainted 
 with Mr. Betty, held him in much esteem, 
 was long ere he beheld his performance as a 
 boy. Though he played frequently after him 
 in the farce, he had seen so much of acting 
 that he felt little curiosity to behold the pro- 
 digy which all the town ran after. One night 
 arriving a short time before the conclusion 
 of the play, he walked to the side scenes, 
 and listened for a few minutes till the ter- 
 mination of the last act. 
 
 Tom Dibdin's Muse revived the drooping 
 Genius of Comedy, in an opera, entitled 
 " Thirty Thousand, or Who 's the Richest," 
 and on the 15th Jan. 1805, Morton gave to 
 the theatre, his " School for Reform." This 
 comedy brought into prominent view the hi- 
 therto dormant talents of Emery. In his per- 
 formance of Tyke, a returned convict, he 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 121 
 
 exhibited a picture of remorse, which chal- 
 lenged a high station in the noblest exhibi- 
 tions of tragical effect. His merit in the per- 
 formance of countrymen was forgotten in this 
 powerful display of agonized feelings. Mun- 
 den played Gen. Tarragon, in the "School for 
 Reform." Emery gained another laurel in 
 the part of Bang, a drunken Yorkshire hunts- 
 man, in a new comedy by Colman, called 
 " Who wants a Guinea ?" Comedy it is called, 
 but broad farce it certainly is. Still the hu- 
 mour in the scenes of Solomon Gundy, the 
 rat-catcher, and the capital equivoque be- 
 tween Torrent and Jonathan Oldskirt, are 
 worth a hundred sentimental pieces. Mun- 
 den played Torrent, an improbable conception, 
 and Kemble, Barford, a very indifferent part. 
 Fawcett was very great in Solomon Gundy, 
 and Simmons showed much cleverness in Old- 
 skirt. May 22, Kemble played Othello and 
 Cooke lago, for Mrs. Lichfield's benefit, and 
 had for a spectator the Young Roscius, from 
 the stage box. Mrs. Siddons performed after 
 a severe illness, Lady Macbeth for her son's 
 benefit, and the season closed on the 15th 
 June. June, 10 1805, Mr. Liston, from the 
 Newcastle Theatre, made his first appearance 
 at the Haymarket, in the character of Sheep- 
 face, in the " Village Lawyer/' and was most 
 favourably received. 
 
 A singular circumstance occurred this sea- 
 
 G 
 
122 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 son at the Haymarket. Mr. Dowton chose 
 for his benefit " The Tailors, or a Tragedy for 
 Warm Weather," which had many years 
 before been brought forward by Foote. So 
 soon as it was announced, Mr. Dowton was as- 
 sailed by anonymous letters, of which the fol- 
 lowing is a specimen that merits to be pre- 
 served. 
 
 August 12, 1805. 
 Sir, 
 
 We Understand you have Chosen a Afterpiece to 
 Scandelize the Trade, and If you persist in It, It is likely to 
 be Attended with Bad Consequences, therefore I would Advise 
 you to Withdraw It, and Subtetote Some Other, and you may 
 depend on a Full House. 
 
 Your humble Servant, 
 
 A Taylor and Citizen. 
 To Mr. Dowton, 
 
 No. 7, Charing Cross. 
 
 Mr. Dowton, with proper spirit, disre- 
 garded this insolent menace, and determined 
 to proceed. 
 
 Early in the afternoon, an immense crowd, 
 chiefly consisting of tailors, assembled in the 
 vicinity of the theatre ; and when the doors 
 were opened, rushed into the galleries and pit, 
 where they began shouting and knocking the 
 floor with their sticks in the most turbulent 
 manner. When the curtain rose Mr. Dowton 
 came forward, but could not obtain a hear- 
 ing ; a pair of scissors (query shears) was 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 123 
 
 thrown from the gallery, and fell very near 
 the actor, who offered twenty guineas reward 
 for the discovery of the person who threw them. 
 Papers were then handed up to the gallery, 
 with an assurance that the piece should be 
 withdrawn, and the "Village Lawyer" substi- 
 tuted in its stead; but nothing would satisfy 
 the " Knights of the Thimble," who continu- 
 ed more vociferous than ever. At length 
 the managers sent a message to Mr. Gra- 
 ham, the magistrate at Bow Street, who 
 speedily arrived with some officers, and hav- 
 ing sworn in several extra constables, pro- 
 ceeded to the galleries, and, instantly seizing 
 the rioters, took ten or twelve of the princi- 
 pal ringleaders into custody. They were next 
 day held to bail. The performance of The 
 Tailors did however take place, in despite of 
 the sensitiveness of the professors of that use- 
 ful art. When the curtain drew up, and dis- 
 covered on the stage three tailors seated on 
 a board, the rage of the malcontents broke 
 forth again, until the Bow Street officers 
 made their appearance a second time, and 
 dragged some of the offenders out ; order was 
 then restored. In the mean while a mob as- 
 sembled outside the theatre, but a detachment 
 of the horse-guards, which had been de- 
 spatched in aid, kept the street quiet, whilst 
 constables, stationed in different parts of the 
 house, checked any fresh disposition to riot. 
 
 o 2 
 
124 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Had this spirited example been followed at 
 the commencement of the O. P. row, the man- 
 agers of Covent Garden Theatre would have 
 been spared much expense and annoyance, 
 the respectable portion of the audience the in- 
 terruption of their rational amusement, and 
 the public the shame and scandal of such pro- 
 ceeding's. 
 
 Both houses commenced the season in Sep- 
 tember with strong- companies. At Covent 
 Garden, where Mr. Kemble was installed act- 
 ing- manag-er, a difference having ensued be- 
 tween that gentleman and Mr. Braham, Bra- 
 ham and Signora Storace removed to the other 
 house. The Covent Garden managers, much 
 to their shame, attempted to bring forward a 
 bold child of the name of Mudie (a female Ro- 
 scius only seven years of age) in the character 
 of Peggy in "The Country Girl;" but the good 
 sense of the public was beginning to return, 
 and, after evincing great marks of disappro- 
 bation throughout the piece, the audience 
 stopped her performance at the commence- 
 ment of the fifth act. Mr. Kemble was com- 
 pelled to undergo, in his capacity of stage 
 manager, the humiliation of soliciting permis- 
 sion for Miss Mudie to finish the character, 
 which was refused amidst a storm of hisses. 
 
 Dec. 25, Mr. Hargrave, receiving the same 
 illiberal treatment, during the performance of 
 Barbarossa, that he experienced on the first 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 125 
 
 night of Master Betty's appearance in the pre- 
 vious season, quietly retired to his dressing- 
 room, and disrobing himself of his theatrical 
 costume, quitted the theatre. As we before 
 stated, Mr. Hargrave had not embraced the 
 profession of the stage for its emoluments. 
 He, therefore, made no appeal and gave no 
 explanation, but at once resolved to quit for 
 ever a scene where he was subject to insult. 
 He had the satisfaction, if he sought it, of 
 knowing that the audience had, by their own 
 act, spoiled their evening's entertainment, for 
 his part was obliged to be read by Mr. Chap- 
 man. 
 
 Another gentleman whom the " liberal" au- 
 dience chose to hiss was Mr. Claremont, who 
 had been before them for years, and was 
 most useful to the theatre, being what is called 
 a good study. He had played almost every 
 thing, and could supply the place of a superior 
 performer in cases of illness or emergency, 
 without the awkwardness of reading the part, 
 whilst his retentive memory enabled him to 
 study any new part at the shortest possible 
 notice. But the usual sphere of his acting 
 was third rate characters. A kind and well- 
 meant commendation of Mrs. Siddons, that 
 he was a good level speaker, made him exces- 
 sively vain. Many are the stories told of 
 his vanity. On returning from the country, 
 after the vacation, Mr. Harris, who really had 
 
126 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 a regard for him, for want of something to 
 say, inquired, " Well, Claremont, what have 
 you been playing in the country ?" " Richard, 
 once, sir, and Hamlet twice." " What, twice, 
 Mr. Claremont ?" was the manager's reply. 
 Munden, walking once with his son in the 
 the streets of Margate, met Claremont, whom 
 he accosted with the inquiry, whether he came 
 down there to act. " No, Sir," said Clare- 
 mont, " I come here to be amused, not to 
 amuse !" King George the Third, who was 
 fond of chatting with the actors, stopped 
 Fawcett walking with Claremont on the Ter- 
 race of Windsor Castle, and eyeing Claremont 
 through his glass, said, " Eh, Fawcett, eh, eh ! 
 who is that with you ?" " Mr. Claremont, 
 please your Majesty." Claremont bowed to 
 the ground. " Claremont Claremont Oh, I 
 recollect! Bad actor! Bad actor!" Clare- 
 mont, who was a good looking man, was a 
 great lady-killer, and is reported to have done 
 much execution in that pleasant warfare. 
 When the O. P. row took place, some of the 
 ruffians who figured in it attempted to drive 
 this respectable actor from the stage, by hiss- 
 ing him whenever he appeared. Mr. Harris, 
 with laudable firmness, resisted the base at- 
 tempt to deprive a deserving man of his bread. 
 This really harmless gentleman remained for 
 many years afterwards in the Covent-Garden 
 company, and is probably still living. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 127 
 
 Munden, at this time, had one of those at- 
 tacks of the gout, which afterwards became 
 so frequent. His illness stopped Colman's 
 farce of " We Fly by Night," during the 
 progress of its representation. He was 
 sufficiently recovered in April to play in 
 Dibdin's musical romance of " The White 
 Plume." 
 
 After " The Birth Day," was performed at 
 Covent Garden, the Christmas pantomime of 
 " Harlequin and Mother Goose. 1 ' Who has 
 not heard of the fame of Mother Goose (Sim- 
 mons), and of Joe Grimaldi, the clown? All 
 former pantomimes were eclipsed by this mas- 
 ter-piece of fun, as all former clowns were by 
 Joe. It is impossible to describe what he 
 did. A thousand masks would not portray 
 the grotesque contortions of his countenance ; 
 and his humorous and lively action drew 
 shouts of merriment both from u children who 
 are young, and children who are old." Mo- 
 ther Goose proved a goose with golden eggs 
 to the theatre. It was the joint composition 
 of Tom Dibdin and Farley, and their memory 
 deserves to be immortalised for hatching such 
 a production. The predecessors of Grimaldi, 
 as the clown in pantomimes, were his father 
 and Follett, who depended entirely on their 
 feats of agility. Munden once played the 
 clown, during the indisposition of Follet, and 
 endeavoured to make the interest rest upon 
 
128 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 humorous expression and knavish dexterity, 
 which was more ably accomplished by Joe 
 Grimaldi, who added to the perfection of these 
 qualities the agile leaps and tumbling- of his 
 progenitor. The comedy of The Birth-Day" 
 seems to have been popular this season ; 
 it was played again a few nights afterwards. 
 Munden performed, also, Sir Bashful Constant 
 in Murphy's " Way to Keep Him ;" upon 
 which we find these remarks: "It has been 
 questioned whether this drama is improved 
 by the admission of this strange character; 
 but that it is so, in the highest degree, none 
 would doubt who had seen the Sir Bashful of 
 Mr. Munden. A more rich and humorous 
 piece of acting is not to be found in all his 
 performances ; and that is saying much." 
 Munden being again attacked with gout, Mr. 
 Liston played Polonius in his stead. Liston 
 very properly endeavoured to restrain his 
 wonderful powers of humour ; but, in the at- 
 tempt to look grave, his countenance was 
 so irresistibly droll, that Mr. Kemble could 
 hardly pronounce the injunction, " Good, my 
 Lord, will you see the players well be- 
 stowed." 
 
 March 10, Morton brought forward his 
 " Town and Country." Trot, which was in- 
 tended for Munden, was, in consequence of 
 his illness, played by Blanchard. Reuben 
 Glenroy was an attempt to write another Pen- 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 129 
 
 ruddock for Mr. Kemble, but with far inferior 
 ability. We learn from Mrs. Inchbald that 
 Cumberland took the idea of " The Wheel of 
 Fortune" from reading 1 in a foreign newspa- 
 per the plot of " The Stranger." He conceived 
 the notion of altering the character of the de- 
 ceived husband into that of a disappointed 
 lover ; and, by that means, getting rid of the 
 indelicacy of the Stranger's reconciliation with 
 his adulterous wife. So skilfully has he ef- 
 fected the alteration, that, as Mrs. Inchbald 
 remarks, the two plays may be performed on 
 successive nights, and nobody, unaware of the 
 fact, would suspect that one was borrowed 
 from the other. If this was what Mr. Sheri- 
 dan meant by plagiarism, it does not accord 
 with his simile, of " Gipsies disfiguring other 
 people's children to make them pass for their 
 own." No doubt Mr. Cumberland, in sketch- 
 ing the character of Penruddock, had Kemble 
 in his eye ; and never did that great actor, 
 no, not even in the higher parts of Macbeth 
 and Hamlet, appear to such advantage. His 
 dignified demeanour displayed the qualities of 
 a polished gentleman shining through the 
 coarse garb of a rustic. His energy in the 
 scene with Young Woodville,* and the fal- 
 tering tone in which he uttered the remark, 
 " You bear a strong resemblance to your 
 
 * Young Woodville, by Charles Kemble, and Mrs. Wood- 
 ville, by Mrs. Powell, were acted to perfection. 
 
 e 5 
 
130 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 brother,'* the subdued tenderness of his man- 
 ner towards Mrs. Woodville his polite bow 
 after the classical compliment " True, ma- 
 dam, but the sons of Cornelia did not dis- 
 grace their mother P and the summoned firm- 
 ness with which, when preparing for his last 
 interview with Woodville, he delivered the 
 words, " Such meetings should be private," 
 could not be, and never have been surpassed. 
 The part was played in succession by Mr. 
 Cooke, Mr. Young, and the Elder Kean ; by 
 the latter with indifferent success. But as a 
 counterpoise to this failure, Mr. Kean played 
 Reuben Glenroy very finely ; the latter part is, 
 nevertheless, a poor copy of the former. The 
 misanthropy of Penruddock arises from a na- 
 tural cause, but the moodiness (for that seems 
 the term) of Reuben Glenroy can only be 
 traced to envy of his elder brother. It has been 
 observed of " The Terence of England," that 
 in his two best plays," The Wheel of For- 
 tune "and "The West Indian," he portrays 
 young ladies making love to the young gen- 
 tlemen. 
 
 " Town and Country" was very successful. 
 We shall have occasion to speak of this play 
 again on its re-production at Drury Lane. 
 
 April 3, Munden played in the " School for 
 Reform," for the first time after his illness, 
 was warmly greeted by the audience. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 131 
 
 On the 10th, he appeared in the " Birth- 
 day." 
 
 Mr. Young-, from the Manchester Theatre, 
 was engaged in the summer season at the 
 Haymarket, and came out in " Hamlet." It 
 is surprising that an actor, possessing 1 , even at 
 that time, such extraordinary excellence, had 
 not before reached the metropolis. His merit 
 was at once appreciated and acknowledged. 
 Mr. Young declined, after the Haymarket 
 closed, engaging 1 at Drury Lane, where Ellis- 
 ton was the indifferent representative of tra- 
 gedy, and returned into the country, leaving 
 an established reputation behind him. 
 
 Munden played at the opening of the Man- 
 chester Theatre, recently rebuilt, and under 
 the management of his friend Macready, who 
 had taken a lease of it. 
 
 Sept., 1807, Covent Garden opened, but 
 without Mr. Cooke, who was missing 1 . Mun- 
 den performed Sir Francis Wronghead (Pro- 
 voked Husband) to Kemble's Lord Townley, 
 Miss Brunton's Lady Townley, and Miss Bol- 
 ton's Lady Grace. Both these ladies became 
 peeresses in earnest ; Miss Brunton espousing- 
 the Earl of Craven, and Miss Bolton, Lord 
 Thurlow. Lady Craven (Dowager) is aunt 
 to that clever actress, Mrs. Yates. Oct. 9, 
 presented Mr. Richard Jones to a London 
 audience in Goldfinch. Mr. Jones, though not 
 
132 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 equal to Lewis, was, perhaps, the nearest ap- 
 proach to him. He had more mercurial spirits, 
 but less humour than Elliston. This gentle- 
 man has now quitted the stage. It will be a 
 long- time before an actor, such as Lewis was, 
 will again be seen. He truly seemed to con- 
 sider the audience as " the fourth wall of a 
 room ;" and ran upon the stage, tossing his 
 hat and gloves upon the table, as much at 
 ease as in his own drawing-room. The free- 
 dom of his movements formed a striking con- 
 trast to the stiff management of the limbs 
 which some otherwise good actors can never 
 overcome. Such was his extraordinary viva- 
 city that it was rather dangerous to play with 
 him in a part of excitement. In one scene he 
 threw a chair at Munden, who was constantly 
 on the stage with him, and narrowly escaped 
 doing him an injury. On another occasion, 
 he forgot he was pretending to horsewhip, and 
 laid the whip in earnest on his shoulders ; but 
 they were the best of friends, and acted toge- 
 ther father and son con amore. Like all first- 
 rate actors, he played equally well to the 
 last. He performed, as we have seen Mr. 
 Smith did, youthful characters when on the 
 verge of sixty, and his buoyancy of spirits 
 kept up the delusion. He was, however, 
 obliged to make up a little. He wore false 
 teeth, false whiskers, and false calves. It was 
 not an unusual thing to see a whisker, half 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 133 
 
 unloosened, sticking 1 up in the air. As he 
 was standing 1 once by the side-scenes, a wag- 
 gish actress employed herself in sticking pins 
 into one of his false calves. When she had 
 satisfied her whim, much to the amusement 
 of the by-standers, she tapped him on the 
 shoulder, and said, " Why, Lewis, somebody 
 has been making- a pincushion of your leg 1 ." 
 Though the lady had been occupied some 
 minutes in this pastime, Lewis affected to draw 
 up his leg in agony, and swore he felt the 
 pain. Mr. Lewis was for many years stage 
 manager at Covent Garden Theatre, and was 
 much respected by his fellow performers, to- 
 wards whom he was indulgent and courteous. 
 He had a son, who played at Liverpool, and 
 was engaged for a short time in London, and 
 who strongly resembled him in person, and in 
 his style of acting 1 . In private life, Mr. Lewis 
 was an upright man, and polite g-entleman. 
 He acquired, as before stated, an ample for- 
 tune by his last speculation. 
 
 March 10, 1808, Mr. Cooke, who had been 
 in Appleby gaol for debt, made his bow again 
 to a London audience as Sir Pertinax M'Sy- 
 cophant, with the usual overwhelming ap- 
 plause. 12th, Munden played Launcelot 
 Gobbo to his Shylock, and the house con- 
 tinued to overflow in consequence of the re- 
 appearance of this favourite of the town. April 
 25th, he made a little free in Richard, but the 
 
134 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 audience, far from assigning 1 the true cause, 
 discovered, in each lapse of memory, a studied 
 pause; and in every stagger, a new point. 
 April 21, Mr. Kemble revived "The Two 
 Gentlemen of Verona," in which Munden 
 played Launce, greatly to the satisfaction of 
 the public, barring some gross allusions, which 
 should have been retrenched, and were pro- 
 perly hissed. The actor brought with him 
 on the stage his Newfoundland dog, Caesar, 
 who, also, misbehaved himself in various ways. 
 In the scene where the dog is roughly han- 
 dled, the animal, not understanding making 
 belief in such matters, seized his assailant by 
 the leg. 
 
 Our comedian had now a fit of the gout, 
 which laid him up for the remainder of the 
 season. This malady, though not the cause 
 of his death, became his frequent companion 
 ever after. He was attended, as a friend, by 
 Dr. Pearson, Dr. Hooper, Sir Matthew Tier- 
 ney, and Sir Charles Scudamore ; but those 
 eminent physicians could not eradicate the 
 pre-disposition to this painful disorder. Once, 
 at Liverpool, he took, of his own accord, the 
 Eau Medicinale d'Husson ; this violent remedy 
 enabled him to rise from his bed, and return 
 to town ; but he suffered for his rashness by a 
 confinement of several months, not occasioned 
 by gout, but by an entire prostration of 
 strength. The late Earl of Essex, with whom 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 135 
 
 he was on friendly terms, and who was an 
 equal sufferer, persuaded him to try Dr. Wil- 
 son's Tincture, and he derived benefit from it ; 
 but, latterly, as the fits became less acute, he 
 abstained from all gout medicines, and merely 
 had recourse to quiet and repose. 
 
136 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The " Portrait of Cervantes" Destruction of Covent Garden 
 Theatre by fire The Covent Garden company at the King's 
 Theatre and the Haymarket Morton's "Exile" Tobin's 
 " School for Authors" Criticism on Munden in Diaper 
 Ceremony of laying the first stone of the New Theatre 
 Drury Lane Theatre burnt down The Haymarket in Chan- 
 cery Mr. Lewis and Mrs. Mattocks quit the stage Open- 
 ing of New Covent Garden The 0. P. row Mr. Kemble 
 and Mr. Clifford's compact The Piazza Coffee-house 
 The Beef-steak Club Anecdotes of the Duke of Norfolk 
 New Performers Anecdotes of little Knight and Tate 
 Wilkinson Open house in the Poultry A bit of Salt. 
 
 June 21, 1808, Munden played for his bene- 
 fit " Laugh when you can." The " Portrait 
 of Cervantes" (1st time) and " The Turnpike 
 Gate." The new farce was a translation from 
 the French, by Mr. Grefulhe, the banker, 
 who sent it to Munden, but desired his name 
 not to be mentioned. On these occasions, and 
 they were not a few, the bantling- was laid to 
 the charge of Mrs. Munden, who was known 
 to amuse herself by dramatic composition. If 
 the piece failed, she had all the demerit ; if it 
 succeeded, the vanity of the author let out 
 the secret ; in no case did she derive any of 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 137 
 
 the profits. "The Portrait of Cervantes" was 
 very successful, and Mr. Grefulhe politely 
 begged Mrs. Munden's acceptance of a case 
 of Constantia wine. He, also, liberally pre- 
 sented our actor with the sum of one hundred 
 pounds, which the managers, in continuing 
 the representation according to privilege, had 
 paid to the author. On the 20th September, 
 Coven t Garden Theatre was destroyed by fire. 
 The loss of life that occurred in attempting to 
 stop the progress of the flames was most de- 
 plorable. Amongst the property destroyed 
 were the scenery and wardrobe, all the musi- 
 cians' instruments (their own property), seve- 
 ral dramatic pieces, and musical MSS. of which 
 no copies remained, including the original 
 scores of Handel, Arne, &c., and Handel's 
 famous organ, bequeathed by him to the the- 
 atre. The insurance did not amount to one 
 third of the loss. Munden, again, lost his 
 wardrobe, which he valued at 300 ; but the 
 wags made merry at his expense, asserting 
 that when his trunk, recovered from the wreck 
 off Ireland, to which he had assigned a simi- 
 lar value, was brought to him, and five gui- 
 neas reward claimed, he flew into a passion, 
 and swore it was not worth five shillings. 
 The company found a temporary asylum at 
 the King's theatre, where they commenced 
 performing, so early as the 26th, with Doug- 
 las, and Rosina. Mr. Kemble addressed the 
 
138 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 audience, on the rising of the curtain, in con- 
 siderable agitation, alluding to the recent ca- 
 lamity, and assured them that the managers 
 were already preparing to construct a new 
 theatre. Mrs. Siddons played Lady Ran- 
 dolph ; Mr. C. Kemble, Norval ; and Mr. 
 Barrymore, Glenalvon, in the absence of Mr. 
 Cooke, who was gone to be married, and 
 could not come. That gentleman, however, 
 played Sir Pertinax on the 14th, and met with 
 his usual flattering reception. Nov. 10, Mor- 
 ton's opera of the "Exile,"" founded on the 
 novel of Elizabeth, by Madam Cottin, was 
 brought forward at this theatre Daran, Mr. 
 Young ; who had at length engaged at a 
 winter theatre, with a large salary ; Count 
 Ulric, Pope ; Count Calmar, Incledon ; Baron 
 Altradorf, Liston ; Servitz, Fawcett ; The Go- 
 vernor, Munden ; Catherine, Mrs. Dickons ; 
 Alexina, Mrs. H. Johnston. Munden had 
 little to do ; but Fawcett had a good part, and 
 was encored in his comic song " Young Lob- 
 ski," written by Mr. Colman. Mr. Young 
 played Daran in the most impressive manner. 
 The vocalists, also, were highly applauded. 
 This piece had a very successful run. The 
 Covent Garden company now removed to the 
 little theatre in the Hay market, which was 
 liberally offered to them by Mr. Colman, com- 
 mencing with the Mountaineers, and a new 
 farce, entitled " A School for Authors, " the 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 139 
 
 production of the late Mr. Tobin, author of 
 "The Honey-moon," whose singular fate it 
 was, to have all his pieces rejected during his 
 life-time, and eagerly sought for after his 
 death. As in the Honey-moon he had imi- 
 tated Shakspeare, so in the " School for Au- 
 thors" he borrowed from Foote. Munden 
 played the principal character, Diaper, the 
 author, a kind of Sir Fretful Plagiary, and 
 in varying the personification lay the difficul- 
 ty. The following criticism seems to imply 
 that he overcame it : " Mr. Munden is the 
 hero, and when we thought that he had reach- 
 ed the top branch of the tree, he has found 
 another shoot, on which he has perched him- 
 self, and overtopped all his former elevations. 
 To steer clear of the identical Sir Fretful was 
 difficult, but Mr. Munden has succeeded, by 
 avoiding the formal dress of an author, and by 
 the extraordinary variety and genius of his 
 acting. In the scene where he opens his 
 mind to Cleveland, about the tragedy ; in that 
 where he overhears Frank reading it to Su- 
 san; and, perhaps, above all, in that where 
 Jane humours him in all he believes about its 
 excellence, he exhibited such bursts of comic 
 talent, as none shall hope to surpass." This 
 is high praise : we quote it to show that our 
 actor's popularity was still in the ascendant. 
 Dec. 30, 1808. 'The first stone of the New 
 Theatre, in Covent Garden, was laid by His 
 
140 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, attended 
 by the Duke of Sussex, The Earl Moira, and 
 Colonel Bloomfield ; and deputations from all 
 the Masonic Lodges in the metropolis assem- 
 bled to meet the Prince, their Grand Master. 
 Mr. Harris and Mr. Kemble, both wearing 
 the insignia of Masons, received His Royal 
 Highness at his carriage, and conducted him to 
 a marquee erected near the stone. The streets 
 were lined with the Life Guards, and infantry 
 stationed to keep off the crowd. With martial 
 music and a salute from twenty-one guns, the 
 ceremony commenced. A covered platform 
 was filled with spectators, who all rose to wel- 
 come His Royal Highness, the band playing 
 " God save the King." The front seats were 
 filled by ladies, amongst whom sat " the ob- 
 served of all observers" Mrs. Siddons ! His 
 Royal Highness, sprinkling corn, wine, and oil 
 on the stone, concluded the ceremony by return- 
 ing the plan of the building to Mr. Smirke, the 
 architect, and bowed to Messrs. Harris and 
 Kemble, with the expression of a wish for the 
 prosperity of the theatre a wish that has not 
 yet reached its accomplishment. Two months 
 after this event, Drury Lane theatre was in 
 flames. It was supposed by many at the 
 time that these conflagrations were the work 
 of incendiaries ; but there seems no reason to 
 doubt that both were the result of accident. 
 Mr. Sheridan was in the House of Commons, 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 141 
 
 when the blaze of light illumined St. Stephen's 
 Chapel. It was proposed, from sympathy in 
 that gentleman's loss, to adjourn the debate, 
 and he gained great credit for magnanimity 
 for refusing to allow his private concerns to 
 interfere with the business of the nation. All 
 this was a solemn farce : the real sufferers 
 were the actors, many of whose salaries had 
 not been paid for a long time previously ; and 
 the renters, whose money lay buried in the 
 ruins. The late Drury Lane Theatre was said 
 to have cost 129,000, and was insured for 
 35,000. The debts were estimated at 
 300,000. The Drury Lane company left 
 with the "good wishes" of Mr. Sheridan (who 
 after parting with them, changed his mind, and 
 desired, unavailingly, to encumber them again 
 with his assistance) obtained with some diffi- 
 culty a licence from the Lord Chamberlain, 
 and Mr. Taylor's permission to perform at the 
 King's Theatre, for three nights gratuitously, 
 and three more on paying a sum for rent, by 
 which arrangement the families of the humbler 
 adherents to the theatre were saved from star- 
 vation. They opened their performances at 
 the King's Theatre on the 16th March, 1809, 
 and, on the llth April, occupied the Lyceum. 
 The Covent Garden Company, at the Hay- 
 market, played (Feb. 10th) " Is he a Prince ?" 
 another translation from the French by Mr. 
 Grefulhe ; principal characters by Liston, Faw- 
 
142 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 cett, Munden and Mrs. Davenport. May 1, 
 Munden took for his benefit, The English 
 Fleet, Rival Soldiers, and Lock and Key. 
 5th, Mrs. Siddons was announced for Belvi- 
 dera, being- " the last time she will ever act that 
 character." 17th, The Mountaineers, for Mr. 
 Liston's benefit ; Octavian, Mr. Liston. 
 
 In Easter term, the Haymarket Theatre 
 opened on a new site the Court of Chan- 
 cery ; Sir Samuel Romilly moved the Court, 
 on behalf of Messrs. Morris, Winston, and 
 others, to remove Mr. Colman from the chief 
 management of the theatre, on the ground 
 that he was unable to discharge the duties of 
 his situation, being a prisoner for debt in the 
 King's Bench. The answer to this objection 
 on the part of the defendant's counsel (Mr. 
 Hart) was that, being in the Bench, he was sure 
 to be found at home. The Lord Chancellor in- 
 timated that the parties had better settle their 
 differences by arbitration. The plaintiffs 
 chose Mr. Crawford, a barrister, and the de- 
 fendant Mr. Harris, the rival manager ; and 
 each party objected to the arbitrator on the 
 other side. The Lord Chancellor considered 
 Mr. Harris " a very unfit person for an arbitra- 
 tor" in such a case, and postponed his judg- 
 ment. " I will not now/' said his Lordship 
 emphatically, " attempt to insinuate what the 
 decision will be, but I feel confident it will 
 be disagreeable to all the parties" This hint 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 143 
 
 was taken, and the matter withdrawn for the 
 time. 
 
 " The Monthly Mirror," in announcing-, at 
 this season, the rumour that Drury-Lane 
 Theatre was about to be rebuilt, adds this 
 stringent inquiry- 
 
 " Quis, quid, ubi, quibus auxiliis, cur, quomodo, quando ! " 
 
 Happy for the parties, quibus auxiliis 'the 
 theatre was ultimately rebuilt, if this rumour 
 had only been a surmise ! 
 
 June 10, the Drury-Lane Company closed 
 their season at the Lyceum, and Mr. Wrough- 
 ton addressed the audience on the part of the 
 performers, the chief of whom had been great 
 losers by contributing to the distresses of their 
 poorer brethren. The Covent-Garden Com- 
 pany finished at the Haymarket, on the 31st 
 May, and Mr. Young returned thanks on be- 
 half of the proprietors, with the announce- 
 ment that " their new theatre was covered in." 
 Two days previously, Mr. Lewis performed 
 fpr the last time, taking for his benefit, " Rule 
 a Wife and Have a Wife," in which he played 
 the Copper Captain, concluding with an 
 address to a crowded audience, which he de- 
 livered with great feeling. 
 ^The stage lost, also, another of its treasures 
 Mrs. Mattocks. We are sorry to relate, 
 that, after many years passed in this arduous 
 profession for Mrs. Mattocks was nearly 
 
144 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the oldest actress on the stage she was de- 
 prived of the fruits of her industrious exer- 
 tions. When she retired, she had amassed 
 a sufficient fortune, which she placed in the 
 hands of a near relative, in whom she had 
 great confidence, and whom she supposed to be 
 in good circumstances. This gentleman died 
 suddenly some years after, and it was then 
 discovered that he had been for a long time 
 insolvent. Unfortunately, Mrs. Mattocks, on 
 her retirement, had ceased to subscribe to the 
 Covent-Garden Theatrical Fund, to which she 
 had been an early contributor, and thereby 
 forfeited all claim to relief from that quarter. 
 So universally, however, was she esteemed, 
 that several of the performers subscribed 
 among themselves, and purchased a small an- 
 nuity for her support. 
 
 The new theatre, in Covent-Garden, w r hich 
 had been erected, as it were by magic, within 
 the short space of ten months, opened its 
 portals to the public on the 18th Sept., 1809, 
 with the prices of the boxes raised from six to 
 seven shillings, and the pit from three shil- 
 lings to four shillings, and an entire tier of 
 boxes reserved for private accommodation. 
 The excuse was the expenditure of one him- 
 dred and fifty thousand pounds " in order to 
 render the theatre worthy of British specta- 
 tors, and of the genius of their native poets." 
 " Macbeth" was the opening piece. "All in 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 145 
 
 the Wrong-" would have been a more appro- 
 priate prelude : for difficult it is, even at this 
 time of calm reflection, to assign to each 
 party its adequate share of absurdity or ill- 
 conduct. The aggregate must be divided 
 between the proprietors of the theatre, the 
 magistrates, the Lord Chamberlain, and the 
 public. When the old theatre was in ruins, 
 Mr. Kemble was reported to have said, " Now 
 we will have the finest theatre in Europe ; " 
 and, in his speeches from the stage, he termed 
 his new edifice, " the most beautiful theatre 
 in the universe, for the reception of the in- 
 habitants of the capital of the World:" 
 a foolish boast, which was accomplished at 
 the expense of public decency, and the loss 
 of a fortune on the part of those who em- 
 barked in this futile speculation. No sounder 
 truth can be expounded than that one and 
 one do not, in all cases, make two ; and the 
 supposition, that because a theatre supported 
 by good actors is constantly filled, the same 
 result would follow the construction of a build- 
 ing of double the size, is contradicted by all 
 experience. The Haymarket Theatre, under 
 proper management, has always been produc- 
 tive ; and never did the really good actors appear 
 to such advantage as on its boards because 
 the audience could see and hear them. The 
 huge mausoleum beneath which was buried 
 the greater part of Mr. Kemble's industrious 
 
 H 
 
146 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 and well-merited earnings, was wholly un- 
 called for ; and the public resented, but not in 
 a proper manner, the attempt to extract from 
 their pockets a sacrifice to Mr. Kemble's 
 hobby. The generality of stage frequenters 
 knew nothing, and cared still less, about the 
 beautiful groups in low relief, and statues by 
 Rossi and Flaxman, which decorate the ex- 
 terior; but they desired, and not unreason- 
 ably, that as all theatrical performances of a 
 high order were controlled by two patents, 
 one of which was in abeyance, they should not 
 be exorbitantly taxed, or their families de- 
 barred from their usual recreation, to gratify 
 the whims, or fill the pockets of two gentlemen, 
 who, when they planned their lofty scheme, 
 had held no consultation with those who were 
 to pay for it. Of all parties, Mr. Harris, the 
 chief proprietor, was perhaps the most to be 
 pitied. Mr. Harris, who had originally been 
 a soap-boiler, purchased the patent and pro- 
 perty for an amount not largely exceeding the 
 sum at which (in its improved state, with the 
 gradual accumulation of scenery and stage 
 properties) he sold to Mr. Kemble a sixth 
 share. The increase of the value was, how- 
 ever, mainly owing to Mr. Harris's judicious 
 management, watchful selection of eminent 
 provincial actors, as their rising reputation 
 brought them to his notice, liberality towards 
 the performers, and the large prices which he 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 147 
 
 cheerfully paid for the productions of such 
 dramatists as Cumberland, Colman, Morton, 
 Reynolds, O'Keefe, Dibdin, &c., who pre- 
 ferred the ready money of Covent-Garden to 
 the promissory notes of the rival house. 
 
 Mr. Harris had, at the time of the destruction 
 of the late Covent-Garden Theatre, accumulated 
 a large fortune: he died in moderate circum- 
 stances. Being aged and infirm, he seldom, 
 latterly, quitted his residence at Uxbridge, 
 intrusting the management of the concern to 
 his son, Mr. Henry Harris, and Mr. John 
 Kemble. That these gentlemen believed they 
 were furthering his interests as well as their 
 own, when they entered into this expensive 
 outlay, nobody, who has ever heard of them, 
 can for a moment doubt ; but they were mis- 
 taken. They began with a war on the public, 
 that hydra-headed monster, and they con- 
 ducted the war badly. The public did not 
 care where they were lodged, and would have 
 been contented with any secure building hav- 
 ing four walls and sufficient accommodation, 
 provided the entertainments were such as they 
 had been accustomed to witness. But the pro- 
 prietors were " cursed with a taste/' They must 
 needs take architecture and sculpture under 
 their protection, and expected John Bull to 
 pay for the arts, as well as the art of acting. 
 Even the expedients they devised to fill their 
 treasury were injudicious. They engaged Ma- 
 
 H2 
 
148 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 dame Catalan! at an enormous salary, when 
 the cry was for " native talent ;" and they ap- 
 portioned a whole tier to private boxes, when 
 the most irritating- subject was their mono- 
 poly. They expected the cooped-up spectator 
 to pay an advanced price for his seat in the 
 "pigeon holes," whence he looked down on 
 the favoured aristocracy, sitting at their ease, 
 concealed by gilt lattices, and retiring at the ter- 
 mination of the acts to drawing-rooms behind 
 the boxes, which gave rise to much unmerited 
 scandal. Having 1 once engaged in the con- 
 test, the proprietors should have taken such 
 steps as would have commanded success ; but 
 they hesitated, vacillated, and, like all persons 
 who adopt middle measures, fell between two 
 stools. They began by apologising and ap- 
 pealing ; then hired pugilists, lamplighters, 
 watermen, and Bow-street officers, to beat the 
 spectators into submission ; when it was dis- 
 covered that this would not do (for the men of 
 war found that a pitched battle on the pit 
 benches, hemmed in by an enraged multitude, 
 was a very different thing from one in the ring, 
 with plenty of room for shifting and dropping), 
 Mr. Kemble had again recourse to apology 
 and appeal. 
 
 Messrs. Read and Nares, two of the Bow- 
 street magistrates, came on the stage to ad- 
 dress the audience, and were hissed off. If 
 they had not power to read the riot act, what 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 349 
 
 business had they there?* The Lord Cham- 
 berlain sent a message to Mr. Harris, that the 
 peace of the town must not be disturbed by 
 these riotous proceedings ; and that, if the 
 difference with the public could not be settled 
 amicably, the theatre must be shut Verily, 
 the Lord Chamberlain held " a barren sceptre 
 in his hand," if he could do no more than this ; 
 besides, it was unfair to both parties : the 
 public did not want the theatre shut, but open 
 at the old prices ; and the proprietors ought 
 not to have been held responsible for riots 
 which were committed by others in their house, 
 and which they could not control. At length, 
 Messrs. Harris, Kemble, and Co., referred a 
 statement of their accounts, sworn to by their 
 treasurers, to the Recorder, the Solicitor- 
 General, the Governor of the Bank of England, 
 Sir Charles Price, and John Julius Angustein, 
 Esq. The two first learned gentlemen were not 
 the fittest arbitrators to choose in matters of ac- 
 compt ; however, the investigation took place, 
 occupying only a few hours, and a report was 
 signed by all the referees, containing the as- 
 tounding assertion, that on the average of the 
 
 * Mr. Kemble averred that they came of their own autho- 
 rity, and that he knew nothing of their coming, until he read 
 of it next morning in the newspapers. The conduct of these 
 guardians of the peace on the very first night of the disturb- 
 ance was an indication of weakness, and encouraged the rioters 
 to proceed. 
 
150 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 last six years, the profit on the capital em- 
 barked in the concern had not exceeded 6-| 
 per cent., per annum : but had the theatre 
 been fully insured, there would only have been 
 5 per cent. ; that, at the advanced prices, the 
 profits of the new theatre would only amount 
 to 3^ per cent., per annum; and, if the old 
 prices were restored, the proprietors would 
 sustain a loss of nearly ^ per cent. The 
 respectable names affixed to this report do 
 not allow the supposition of any intentional 
 delusion, either on their part, or on that of 
 Messrs. Kemble and Harris ; but it should 
 have been seen how much, in this hurried in- 
 quiry, was taken for granted in the calcula- 
 tion of the future, and whether the estimated 
 expenses were necessary. Plain men wondered 
 that Mr. Kemble should have given 22,000/. for 
 a sixth of such a hopeless adventure ; and (as 
 the last mentioned result ought to have been 
 contemplated) that individuals could be found 
 so simple as to borrow, and others to lend their 
 money only for the sake of losing it. The 
 details of these strange proceedings do not 
 properly belong to the " Life of Munden," 
 although he played every night, of course, in 
 dumb shew, as did his brother performers, 
 during the O. P. war, so termed from being 
 a war for the old prices. Munden attempted 
 to address the assemblage on the first night 
 of the disturbance, but was relieved by Mr. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 151 
 
 Kemble. The polite spectators (they scorned 
 to be auditors), were very civil to the actors, 
 with the exception of the Kemble family, male 
 and female, whom they hooted without mercy. 
 One ruffian threw a bottle at .Mrs. Charles 
 Kemble, with a brutal exclamation, referring- 
 to her then delicate condition. Will it be be- 
 lieved that English ladies could be induced to 
 crowd the boxes night after night, surrounded 
 by men in the garb of gentlemen, (striking 
 each other down on the benches near them, 
 for a difference of opinion,) and listening to 
 the coarse harangues of barbers, bank-clerks, 
 and briefless barristers ; witnessing, without a 
 shudder, the frightful leaps from the boxes 
 into the pit, as the Bow-street myrmidons 
 rushed forward to make their captures ; and 
 hearing, without a blush, the most indelicate 
 allusions to the presumed object of the private 
 boxes ? Alas ! what will not fashion do when 
 excitement is to be afforded ? 
 
 The O. P. warriors, after baiting Mr. Kem- 
 ble every time he made his appearance, calling 
 upon him for explanations, and then interrupt- 
 ing him, marvelled that he lost his temper; 
 and his brief question : " Ladies and gentle- 
 men, what is it that you want ? " when what 
 they wanted was sufficiently apparent, was 
 said to savour of that casuistry which is 
 taught at the Roman Catholic college (Douay), 
 where that gentleman had been educated. The 
 
152 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 only redeeming feature in this spectacle was 
 an occasional bit of fun in some of the nume- 
 rous placards which were exhibited in the 
 boxes and pit, torn down by the boxers and 
 officers, rescued and remounted with equal 
 ardour to that which animates the ensign who 
 adheres to his colours in the strife of mortal 
 combat. The chief of them consisted of libels 
 on Mr. Kemble, but the following jew $ esprit is 
 not a bad resumen of the general question : 
 
 " THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT." 
 
 " This is the house that Jack huilt. 
 
 lt These are the boxes let to the great, that visit the house 
 that Jack built. 
 
 " These are the pigeon-holes over the boxes, let to the 
 great, that visit the house that Jack built. 
 
 " This is the cat engaged to squall to the poor in the pigeon- 
 holes over the boxes, let to the great, that visit the house that 
 Jack built. 
 
 " This is John Bull with a bugle-horn, that hissed the cat 
 engaged to squall to the poor in the pigeon-holes over the 
 boxes, let to the great, that visit the house that Jack built. 
 
 " This is the thief-taker shaven and shorn, that took up 
 John Bull with his bugle-horn ; who hissed the cat, engaged 
 to squall to the poor in the pigeon-holes over the boxes, let to 
 the great, that visit the house that Jack built. 
 
 " This is the manager full of scorn, who RAISED THE PRICE to 
 the people forlorn ; and directed the thief-taker, shaven and 
 shorn, to take up John Bull with his bugle-horn ; who hissed 
 the cat engaged to squall to the poor in the pigeon-holes over 
 the boxes, let to the great, that visit the house that Jack 
 built. Bow, Wow." 
 
 It is needless to add that Catalani relin- 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 153 
 
 quished her engagement. She despaired of 
 introducing notes of harmony into such a place 
 of discord. Madame Catalani was to have 
 had 5,000/. for the season, and two benefits ; 
 and to have played and sung in English operas. 
 It would have been a complete failure. She 
 was taught with great difficulty to repeat the 
 words of " God Save the King," and " Rule 
 Britannia." 
 
 Having mentioned thus much of the first 
 O. P. war, we may at once state the mode in 
 which it was brought to a conclusion. Bills 
 of indictment having been preferred against 
 forty- one of the rioters at the Westminster 
 sessions, the grand jury, after a strong charge 
 from the chairman (Mr. Mainwaring) in fa- 
 vour of the managers, found true bills against 
 twelve ; " those for hissing, hooting, barking, 
 whistling, and speechifying, including one 
 bill against Mary Austen, a female O. P., for 
 springing a penny rattle, being all thrown 
 out." Again were the rattles, bells, horns, 
 and trumpets, in motion. Mr. Clifford, a bar- 
 rister, became the O. P. king, and, being taken 
 before the magistrates, was released, after ob- 
 serving, that " had he been a poor tailor, they 
 would have held him to bail," as they had 
 done others. Mr. Clifford thereupon, brought 
 an action for false imprisonment against Bran- 
 don, the box-keeper. Chief Justice Mansfield 
 gave his opinion " that the public had no 
 
 H5 
 
154 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 right to express their dissatisfaction at the 
 new prices in the way they had done;" but 
 the jury, after hearing- the declaration of Mr. 
 Serjeant Best, Mr. Clifford's counsel, that " he 
 never saw a more harmless set of people in 
 his life than these rioters ;" found a verdict 
 for the plaintiff; damages five pounds ! Sir 
 James Mansfield " expressed much regret at 
 the verdict, from which he fancied very ill 
 consequences were likely to result." 
 
 The Covent Garden proprietors, who had 
 declared that nothing should induce them to 
 submit, now saw the necessity of bending 
 before the storm. At a dinner given by the 
 O. P.'s to commemorate their triumph, Mr. 
 Clifford presiding, that gentleman announced 
 Mr. Kemble's presence in the ante-room, and 
 stating that the managers had offered such 
 concessions as, in his (Mr. C/s) opinion, were 
 reasonable, moved that he should be admitted, 
 bespeaking for him an attentive hearing and 
 polite reception. Mr. Kemble, accordingly, 
 appeared in this novel and embarrassing situa- 
 tion ; and, after some oratory, the following 
 resolutions were agreed to: 
 
 "1st. That the private boxes shall be re- 
 duced to the same state as they were in the 
 year 1802. 
 
 "2nd, That the pit shall be 3s. 6d. the 
 boxes, 7s. 
 
 "3d, That an apology shall be made on 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 155 
 
 the part of the proprietors to the public, and 
 Mr. Brandon shall be dismissed. 
 
 "4th, That all prosecutions and actions, 
 on both sides, shall be quashed." 
 
 A complimentary toast was then proposed, 
 and Mr. Kemble withdrew to the theatre, 
 where, from the stage, he read the resolutions 
 to the audience ; some hesitation, however, 
 being apparent with regard to the 3rd, he was 
 not allowed to proceed ; but a placard was 
 thrown on the stage, with the words " Dis- 
 charge Brandon," which was taken up by 
 Munden, dressed in his full-bottomed wig, as 
 King Arthur in " Tom Thumb." It is re- 
 marked that in that costume he was a very fit 
 messenger, meaning, we presume, that the two 
 parties (the public and the proprietors) were 
 Noodle and Doodle. Brandon came upon the 
 stage, but the audience refused to listen to 
 him, unless he went upon his knees, and he 
 fearlessly declined complying with so humi- 
 liating a command. Mr. Henry Harris came 
 forward to intercede, but with no success. 
 The next night Mr. Kemble announced that 
 Mr. Brandon had withdrawn from the theatre. 
 The fact was, the circumstances having been 
 reported to old Mr. Harris, he recommended 
 Brandon to retire for a while from the theatre, 
 promising that his salary should be paid to 
 him for the remainder of his life ; but adding, 
 that if he had submitted to degrade himself as 
 
156 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 he had been required to do, he should have been 
 dismissed without a farthing. No doubt 
 Brandon's zeal for his employers had outstep- 
 ped the bounds of discretion, but he was an old 
 servant of the proprietor, and much of what he 
 had done must have been done by their orders. 
 Mr. Harris's determination was honourable to 
 his feelings as a gentleman, and his unshaken 
 courage as a man. Mr. Harris was then bed- 
 ridden. 
 
 Among the sufferers by the late fire at Co- 
 vent-Garden who expected redress on the re- 
 building, were the members of the Beef-Steak 
 Club whose room in the Piazza Coffee House, 
 partly on the premises of the theatre, had been 
 burnt and Mr. Solomon, the celebrated cook 
 of that agreeable establishment, from whose 
 domain the kitchen four feet were abstract- 
 ed to secure a private entrance to the theatre 
 for no less a personage than his Majesty. Mr. 
 Solomon was with difficulty persuaded to ac- 
 cord this boon ; but his loyalty prevailed over 
 the minor consideration of personal privation. 
 Had he been unrelenting, Royalty must have 
 entered the theatre with the mob ; for, at the 
 Piazza Coffee House, Mr. Solomon had a voice 
 "potential as the Duke's;" ay, as the Duke 
 of Norfolk, one of his chief-patrons. This 
 eminent artiste (as it is now the fashion to 
 call his successors) was accustomed to stand, 
 habited in the cap 'and white jacket the 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 157 
 
 badges of his honourable profession at a 
 door, opening 1 on the splendid coffee-room, 
 and, surveying his well-known admirers, who 
 saluted him with many a nod, ponder what he 
 should provide for their several tastes, for 
 which he well knew how to cater: nay, he 
 would not always allow them to indulge in 
 their own tastes ; for he who pens these para- 
 graphs, well remembers that his dinner was 
 once deprived of its chief agrement marrow- 
 bones, which, for some raison de cuisine, the 
 great cook would not introduce. After the 
 conclusion of his performance, Mr. Solomon 
 was in the habit of witnessing the perform- 
 ances at the theatre, dressed in his best attire, 
 with ponderous gold watch and chain, and 
 traversing the stair-case from the Piazzas with 
 the stride of a person who knew his own value. 
 Far be it from us to depreciate the sacrifice 
 which we have recorded of Mr. Solomon, but 
 certain it is, that the proprietors compliment- 
 ed him with a free admission to the new 
 theatre. 
 
 The Beef-Steak Club, held at the Piazza 
 Coffee House, had for its patron, his Royal 
 Highness the Prince of Wales ; for its presi- 
 dent, the Duke of Norfolk ; and its honorary 
 secretary, Joseph Munden. The steaks were 
 dressed in the room, and served up hot from 
 the gridiron. The members presented to their 
 secretary a silver goblet, with a suitable in- 
 
158 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 scription, and the following lines from the pen 
 of their poet-laureat, Tom Dibdin : 
 
 " This token accept, and, when from it you sip, / 
 
 Give a thought to those friends who implore most sincerely, 
 
 You may ne'er find deceit 'twixt the cup and the lip, 
 
 But prove Fortune, like Munden, kind, honest, and cheerly." 
 
 The motto of the club was, " Esto perpetua 
 ad libitum!" and they obeyed its directions. 
 Among- the members were Mr. Maberly and 
 Mr. Const. Some were late sitters. A gen- 
 tleman who is no more, but who was a part- 
 ner in a banking- firm in Lombard-street, was 
 wont to say, that " no man required more sleep 
 than could be obtained in a hackney-coach be- 
 tween Hyde Park and Lombard-street" and 
 he exemplified his precept by his practice. He 
 seldom departed until necessity forced him, 
 It was his duty, as junior partner, to open the 
 iron safe in the morning, and he calculated the 
 time of his journey into the city exactly. On 
 arriving* at the banking- house, he took a glass 
 of vinegar and water, gave the key to the 
 confidential clerk, and repaired to bed for an 
 hour or two. 
 
 The Duke of Norfolk, the chairman of the 
 Beef-Steak Club, sat as long as he could see, 
 but when the fatal moment of oblivion arrived, 
 his confidential servant wheeled his master's 
 arm-chair into the next room, and put him to 
 bed. The Duke frequently dined alone in the 
 coffee room. He ate and drank enormously ; 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 159 
 
 and though the landlords (Messrs. Hodgson and 
 Gann) charged as much as they reasonably 
 could, it is said they lost money by him. His 
 mean apparel and vulgar appearance gave rise 
 to various ludicrous mistakes. On one occa- 
 sion, he desired a new waiter, to whom his per- 
 son was not familiar, to bring him a cucum- 
 ber. The order not being immediately attended 
 to, he called to the waiter, who respectfully 
 intimated that, perhaps, he was not aware that 
 cucumbers were then very expensive. "What 
 are they ?" said the Duke. " A guinea a- 
 piece, sir." " Bring me two" was the reply. 
 The waiter went in dismay to the bar " That 
 shabby old man in the corner wants two cu- 
 cumbers." " Take him an hundred if he asks 
 for them," said Mr. Hodgson. The Duke of 
 Norfolk, being a great lover of the drama, 
 was in the habit, after thus privately dining, 
 of walking into Covent-Garden theatre. He 
 took his seat in the dress-boxes, and imme- 
 diately fell asleep. At the close of the per- 
 formance, he rose much edified and amused, 
 was assisted by the box-keeper in putting on 
 his great-coat, and to his carriage by his ser- 
 vants, waiting in the lobby. 
 
 We have not attempted to describe the act- 
 ing at Covent-Garden theatre, during a period 
 when nobody was allowed to be heard. The 
 Lyceum, in the meanwhile, was growing into 
 notice, under the successful management of 
 
160 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Col. Greville and Mr. Arnold, who made an 
 arrangement with Mr. Sheridan ; that active 
 gentleman having contrived, as he expressed 
 it, to " to keep part of the Drury-Lane com- 
 pany together." 
 
 In the autumn (1809) three new provincial 
 performers made their appearance at this 
 theatre: Mr. Wrench, who still continues on 
 the stage ; Mrs. Edwin, who has quitted it ; 
 and Mr. E. P. Knight, who is now deceased, 
 but whose memory is held in kind remem- 
 brance by all who knew him by none more 
 than the individual who makes this mention 
 of his worth. It is unnecessary to say more 
 of Mr. Wrench than that he is one of the best 
 light comedians extant; or of Mrs. Edwin, 
 who played at Drury-Lane until a late period 
 with great effect, in the line of Mrs. Jordan. 
 By that kind-hearted woman she was highly 
 complimented, with most disinterested feeling, 
 on her first performance of Beatrice. The new 
 actress was the widow of the son of the famous 
 Edwin. The younger Edwin had been a great 
 favourite at Bath, &c., but did not possess 
 the extraordinary talents of his father. Mrs. 
 Edwin was a very pretty woman, and displayed 
 peculiar archness and vivacity: we trust she 
 still lives in the enjoyment of health and hap- 
 piness. 
 
 In mentioning his deceased friend, Mr. 
 Knight, the writer cannot refrain from relating 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 161 
 
 one of the many anecdotes which that very 
 clever actor communicated so readily, regard- 
 ing 1 his earlier career, and which he told ini- 
 mitably. Mr. Knight was apprenticed to a 
 heraldic painter, either at Sheffield or Bir- 
 mingham, which occupation he quitted for the 
 stage. On his first appearance, he said, carry- 
 ing a stick and bundle, he was seized with 
 such alarm that he threw down both bundle 
 and stick, and ran off the stage, to which he 
 could not be persuaded to return. The ma- 
 nager addressed him gravely : " Mr. Knight, 
 you will never make an actor ; it is useless to 
 persist : but, if you will be obstinate, find out 
 the lowest stone in the country, and put your 
 foot on it." This lowest stone was a strolling 
 company, somewhere in Wales, which per- 
 formed in a bedroom, the bedstead serving for 
 the stage, and the two spaces on each side for 
 the tiring-rooms of the respective ladies and 
 gentlemen performers. These spaces were con- 
 cealed from the audience by curtains. The 
 actors ascended the stage by steps. Mr. 
 Knight commenced with Acres, in " The Ri- 
 vals," and was greeted with torrents of ap- 
 plause. He began to think he had reached the 
 acme of the art ; but the applause so far ex- 
 ceeded the bounds of moderation, that he looked 
 round to discover if any other cause existed to 
 occasion it, and beheld the bare posterior of 
 one of his fellow-comedians, who had uncon- 
 
162 , MEMOIRS OF 
 
 sciously protruded it through the curtain, 
 whilst in the act of putting* on his stockings. 
 Stung with disappointed ambition, he struck 
 the offender with his shoe on the intrusive part 
 of his person, and quitted the scene. He after- 
 wards joined other companies of higher rank, 
 and finally engaged with Mr. Wilkinson, at 
 York, to succeed Mr. Matthews. His humo- 
 rous correspondence with Wilkinson is well 
 known. The following letter from Tate, con- 
 cluding the engagement, has not before been 
 published : 
 
 Wakefield, Sept. 20. 
 SIR, 
 
 Let me know when you wish to come, but let it 
 be as soon as convenience and propriety will permit as much 
 success in a theatre is dependent upon lucky circumstances. 
 Mr. Matthews was subject to fits, but the last year not to so 
 very great a degree. The week before last he had a very 
 dreadful one, but it was kept a profound secret from me ; but 
 on Friday night was so alarmingly ill, he was never expected 
 to be in his senses again : could not finish Quotem, nor act 
 last night indeed, all day yesterday he was much deranged : 
 got better last night, and has been foolish enough to go on 
 horseback twenty-two miles to meet a party of friends to din- 
 ner. I fear to-morrow. It is observable that people, who are 
 so unfortunate to have fits, won't have it supposed any dan- 
 gerous accident has occurred, and rush into absurdity. He is 
 a great favourite. I know your cast perfectly well. You shall 
 play any two parts you like, but it is impossible to ascertain a 
 cast. If Mr. Bennett goes, there will be plenty. If Mr. 
 Matthews relapses, I shall want two comedians. Necessity 
 will oblige me to keep you. As I wish you fame and not to 
 lose it, I will get up any two plays, or any two farces, not in 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 163 
 
 the catalogue. Your opening shall be appointed as you wish. 
 I must drop the idea of journey ; but Mansfield, one of your 
 towns, would have been easy. Close here, the 27th ; open 
 Doncaster, the 28th. D. salaries York Summer Assizes, 
 York Races, Pontefract Races, and Doncaster Races ; half at 
 Wakefield. York to Leeds, twenty-three iniles ; Wakefield, 
 nine miles from Leeds ; nine from Wakefield to Pontefract ; 
 twenty from here to Doncaster ; by water, to Hull ; 
 
 thirty-eight from Hull to York. Hull and York, and Hull 
 seasons, from the beginning of November until the end of 
 May. I am, Sir, yours, &c., 
 
 TATE WILKINSON. 
 
 From York is certainly in favour at London so many have 
 done greatly. 
 
 Mr. Matthews did not go many miles, only a pleasant ride, 
 yesterday. 
 
 Mr. Knight, Theatre, Oswestry, Warwickshire. 
 
 Tate Wilkinson had acted under Garrick 
 and Foote ; and, if we are to believe his rne- 
 inoirs, acted tragedy and comedy with equal 
 effect. The truth is, he was a bad actor, but 
 a good mimic ; and Foote encouraged him, to 
 annoy Garrick. Although a great master of 
 the art of mimicry himself, Foote is said to 
 have been outdone by Wilkinson; and was 
 greatly piqued, when Tate, after showing up 
 other actors, began a fresh imitation, telling 
 the audience, that now " he was going to imi- 
 tate Muster Foote." Bred in such a school, 
 it is not extraordinary that Wilkinson should 
 have been a perfect judge of acting. 
 
 York, Bath, and Liverpool, have generally 
 
164 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 been the nurseries whence the London ma- 
 nagers sought for new prodigies, Mrs. Sid- 
 dons may be said to have come from Bath, 
 though she had been in London, unregarded, 
 for a short period before. Mr. Young, from 
 Liverpool and Manchester ; and to Tate Wil- 
 kinson, and York, the metropolis was indebted 
 for Mrs. Jordan, Emery, Matthews, Fawcett, 
 Knight, and Lovegrove. The interview be- 
 tween Mr. Lovegrove (who will be mentioned 
 hereafter) and Wilkinson, when the former 
 solicited an engagement, was curious. Wil- 
 kinson had the habit of calling people by 
 wrong names, a habit which he adopted from 
 Rich, who was the manager of Covent-Garden 
 Theatre in his early days. Even Mr. Garrick 
 is reported not to have been free from this affec- 
 tation. Rich who knew little of acting, chiefly 
 depending on pantomime, in which he was a 
 great proficient (playing himself Harlequin, 
 under the fictitious designation of Lunn) was 
 incessantly pestered with troublesome applica- 
 tions on the part of new claimants for public 
 approbation. He was an eccentric man, and 
 used to carry about with him a large black 
 cat. Being desirous of reflecting a little, be- 
 fore he committed himself in his answer to any 
 of these aspirants, he used to stroke the back 
 of the cat, exclaiming, "Poor pussy;" and, 
 in a moment or two, say, " Well, sir, what 
 do you want with me ?" Wilkinson stole this 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN". 165 
 
 peculiarity for the purpose of obtaining- noto- 
 riety. When Mr. Lovegrove was introduced, 
 he found Tate occupied in knocking a nail in 
 the wall, to hang- up his watch. Without dis- 
 continuing his employment, or .looking at his 
 visitor, Tate said, " What parts can you act, 
 Mr. Musgrove?" " I act Hamlet, sir." 
 " Mr. Kemble acts Hamlet, Mr. Cosgrove ; 
 what else ?" " Othello, sir."" Indeed ; but 
 can you knock a nail in the wall, MR. Cox ?" 
 
 Wilkinson w^as in the habit of sitting in a 
 snug corner of the gallery to witness the effect 
 of the performance. He had a son, who en- 
 tertained a great predilection for the profes- 
 sion, but was a very bad actor. One evening, 
 Wilkinson, in his favourite seat, overheard a 
 sailor say to another, " Jack, that 's a d d 
 stick ; I 've a great mind to hiss him." " Do," 
 said Wilkinson ; " I "11 give you half-a-crown, 
 if you will." It was done accordingly ; and 
 old Tate came down to the green-room to en- 
 joy the effect. Seeing his son walking up and 
 down the room in great discomposure, he in- 
 quired what was the matter. " Sir," replied 
 the victim, " some scoundrels have hissed me 
 off the stage." " I know it, my son," replied 
 the senior ; " I paid them to do it." 
 
 From York, Mr. Knight came to London, 
 making his debut in Timothy Quaint, and Robin 
 Roughhead the latter part he played very 
 finely. The essence of Mr. Knight's acting 
 
166 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 was a feeling of good humour, which he enter- 
 tained towards all mankind. He was very 
 clever in decrepit old men ; but in country boys 
 he chiefly excelled. The greatest representa- 
 tives of countrymen that have been seen dur- 
 ing- the last half century, were the first Knight 
 (who certainly surpassed his successors), 
 Emery, and little Knight. Emery was a very 
 fine actor, in more than one line ; but, in 
 countrymen, he was always a Yorkshireman. 
 The late Mr. Kean, in a criticism as ingenious 
 as it was well expressed, said, " Emery is the 
 countryman of the inn-yard, but Knight is the 
 countryman of the woods/' The two latter 
 possessed other accomplishments besides act- 
 ing. Emery was a tolerable musician (we 
 believe he played the violin in the orchestra at 
 Munden's theatre) and he sketched very well. 
 Knight also was a good draughtsman, and 
 possessed no mean powers of literature. He 
 wrote some dramatic pieces, and most of his 
 own songs. He used to read these to his 
 friends ; and complimented Munden, jun., by 
 saying that he was " a good listener/' In 
 private life, Mr. Knight was a most respect- 
 able man, an exemplary husband and father, 
 and devoted to his domestic circle, from which 
 he rarely removed. 
 
 Having already invoked Tom Dibdin's 
 Muse, we will give another instance of the 
 readiness with which he summoned her to his 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 167 
 
 aid. We must premise that actors were (per- 
 haps are) engaged by the season, or for a 
 term, but paid by the night *'. e., for every 
 night that the theatre continued open, which 
 did not include holidays, Lent, &c., and the 
 accident of death in the Royal Family, when 
 all theatres are closed out of respect. In 1805, 
 the season consisted of about two hundred 
 nights. Those, therefore, who, in forming an 
 estimate of an actor's income, would endea- 
 vour to arrive at it by multiplying fifty-two 
 by the amount of his weekly salary, will see 
 that they could only obtain an erroneous re- 
 sult, not to mention the sick clause to which 
 we have before alluded. The remainder of a 
 performer's emoluments consisted of his coun- 
 try engagements, and his benefit. To make a 
 good benefit, it was necessary to enter into 
 convivial society, and to have a large circle of 
 acquaintance. Incledon, from the advantage 
 of his vocal powers, always had the first bene- 
 fit, in point of amount, and Munden the se- 
 cond. It has been said that Munden was as 
 frequently seen upon 'Change, about benefit 
 time, as the merchants who "most do congre- 
 gate" there ; and this has been attributed to 
 him as humiliating we cannot see upon what 
 grounds. Though all his friends knew he had 
 tickets in his pockets, he never solicited any 
 body to take them, and, to tell the truth, many 
 of those who asked for them forgot to pay. 
 
168 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Amongst Munden's city acquaintance was the 
 late eccentric Wm. Geary Salte, Esq. This 
 gentleman was an extensive Manchester ware- 
 houseman in the Poultry. He had kept what 
 he called open house on Saturday for half a 
 century. The company at this time consisted 
 generally of Sir Nathaniel Dance, (who gal- 
 lantly beat off the French squadron, under 
 Admiral Linois, in the Indian Seas, and saved 
 the East India Company's home fleet in this 
 action Munden's son, Valentine, was present,) 
 of Mr. Sharpe, M.P., the friend of Canning, 
 better known as " Conversation Sharpe," Mr. 
 Ramsbottom, M.P., Mr. Jonathan Brundrett, 
 Mr. Munden, his son Tom, some other ex- 
 pected guests, and a customer or two, who 
 might drop in about dinner time. Punctually 
 as the hour came, grace was said, and a 
 round of beef placed upon the table before the 
 host ; a large plum-pudding occupying the 
 space before his nephew, who faced him. The 
 host helped himself, and the joint was passed 
 to his guests in succession, who did the same. 
 After dinner, Joe was called upon for a song ; 
 and, the hour of nine arriving, the guests rose 
 simultaneously and departed. One Saturday 
 morning, Munden, happening to be at rehear- 
 sal, met Tom Dibdin, who had been reading 
 a comedy, and, bethinking himself of his good- 
 natured host, asked Dibdin to improvise some- 
 thing appropriate, giving him the general out- 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 169 
 
 line. Tom took up a pen, and, without hesi- 
 tation, put down on paper the following 
 
 BIT OF SALT. 
 
 i. 
 
 Of songs about war, and political folks, - 
 We all have grown tired, and stale are our jokes, 
 Then above common subjects suppose we exalt 
 The Muse at this season to sing about Salt. 
 
 n. 
 
 For many a relish to Salt we 're in debt, 
 Without him no Salt to your porridge you'd get ; 
 Plum-puddings and black ones, like beer without malt, 
 Would, in winter and summer, be flat without Salt. 
 
 in. 
 
 Being all honest Britons, why 'tis my belief, 
 That all round me are fond of a good round of beef ; 
 Yet what beef would like ours, without any fault, 
 Have been kept fifty years, if it wasn't for Salt. 
 
 IV. 
 
 When Saturday comes, we to joy give a loose, 
 When the Poultry we seek is not turkey or goose, 
 But brave cut-and-come-again, who wouldn't halt 
 At the house hospitality seasons with Salt? 
 
 v. 
 
 Neither Cheltenham, Epsom, nor Glauber, I mean, 
 Nor salts that are volatile, acid, marine ; 
 Yet Joe Munden's odd ditty, whate'er you may call't, 
 Should please, since each stanza boasts genuine Salt. 
 
 VI. 
 
 In the hall of our host may good fortune prevail ; 
 Long, long may he live, and his spirits ne'er fail ; 
 May old Care be interred in the family vault, 
 While the sweetest of bumpers we fill shall be Salt. 
 
 I 
 
1 70 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Nobody but Dibdin would have written 
 such a song; and nobody but Dibdin could 
 have written it off-hand. When the call came, 
 Munden, who had carefully committed the 
 stanzas to memory, broke forth in this unex- 
 pected ditty. Mr. Salte, with looks of asto- 
 nishment, exclaimed, " Why why why 
 Joe, where the devil did you get that from ? " 
 and believed it was an extempore effusion. 
 
 Mr. Salte was much esteemed by King- 
 George IV., and was visited at his handsome 
 villa at Tottenham by some members of the 
 Royal Family. He left a daughter, and a 
 nephew. Though reputed very rich, his pro- 
 perty, being invested in bad securities, did not 
 realize much. He bequeathed legacies to most 
 of his intimates amongst the rest, one of 100. 
 to his friend Munden, which under the cir- 
 cumstances was never claimed. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 171 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The petition for a third theatre referred to the Privy Council 
 Argument of Mr. Warren, counsel for the petitioners 
 Counter-petitions of Messrs. Harris and' Kemble, Mr. 
 Sheridan, &c. 0. P. again Munden and Cooke at Liver- 
 pool Departure of Mr. Cooke for America Anecdotes of 
 Cooke, and remarks on his acting Death of O. P., and An- 
 thony Pasquin's Epitaph The horses at Covent Garden 
 Timour the Tartar Romeo Coates Difference between 
 Munden and the proprietors of Covent Garden Theatre 
 Correspondence Munden's secession from the theatre. 
 
 IT cannot be a matter of surprise that the 
 differences between the public and the pro- 
 prietors of Co vent- Garden Theatre, during 1 the 
 inaction of the Drury-Lane proprietors, now 
 dormant as their patent, which was termed by 
 the lawyers "the sleeping- beauty," should 
 have suggested to others the speculation of a 
 third theatre. Accordingly, a petition was 
 presented to the House of Commons, and leave 
 given to bring in a bill ; and another petition 
 was laid before the Privy Council, praying for 
 a charter of incorporation. The petitioners 
 
 i 2 
 
172 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 .were the Right Hon. Thomas Smith, Lord 
 Mayor of London ; the Hon. Montgomerie 
 Stewart, M.P. ; Richard Ramsbottom, Esq., 
 M.P. ; Lynden Evelyn, Esq., M.P. ; Anthony 
 Browne, Esq., M.P. ; Evan Foulkes, Esq., 
 M.P.; Joshua Jonathan Smith, Esq., alderman; 
 Charles Hutton, Esq., LL.D. ; Richard Cum- 
 berland, Esq. ; William Marsh, Esq. ; John 
 Curwood, Esq.; James Taddy, Esq. ; and John 
 Wyatt, Esq. The capital subscribed was 
 200,000. This petition having been referred 
 to the Attorney and Solicitor General, who 
 reported that it would be unadvisable to grant 
 such a charter, the petitioners prayed to be 
 heard by counsel before his Majesty^s Privy 
 Council, which permission was granted ; and 
 the arguments on their behalf were opened by 
 Mr. Warren on the 16th March, 1810. Mr. 
 Sheridan, with singular indelicacy, took his 
 seat as a Privy Counsellor, and addressed the 
 Council as his own advocate. 
 
 Mr. Warren observed in reply to the argu- 
 ment that the patentees had enlarged their 
 theatres, as the population increased "But 
 their Lordships would recollect, while they 
 widened the area of their theatres, they pre- 
 vented the public from being entertained; they put 
 them at such a distance from the stage, that 
 the countenance of the performer could not be 
 discerned, without he distorted the muscles of 
 his face to that degree, that, to those nearer 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 173 
 
 the stage, it appeared ludicrous; the same 
 with the voice it was so strained that nature 
 was forgotten." This statement, though some- 
 what exaggerated, was substantially correct ; 
 but the learned gentleman might have urged, 
 that the heavy expenses which the proprie- 
 tors of Covent-Garden Theatre had brought 
 forward as a reason for requiring an increase 
 of the prices of admission, were not occasioned 
 by the simple representation of the legitimate 
 drama, but by gorgeous pageantry and expen- 
 sive shows, which they had substituted in its 
 stead, having, by the enormous size of their 
 fabric, deprived all but a scanty portion of the 
 audience of the power to see and hear. These, 
 which they called " necessary expenses/' were 
 necessities of their own creation. Mr. Warren 
 pertinently inquired, " How does it happen 
 that Covent-Garden is not full, now that Dru- 
 ry-Lane is not in existence ? " " My position," 
 continued the learned counsel, " is this : that 
 the houses are empty from the natural incom- 
 modiousness of them. They may be occasion- 
 ally and accidentally filled by the representa- 
 tion of a new play, or the performance of a 
 favourite actor, but, in general, they will be 
 deserted from the want of accommodation. 
 Unless these houses be totally altered, the 
 complaint (that the new theatre would injure 
 them) is nugatory, because we shall not take 
 away persons from them, as they have at pre- 
 
174 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 sent only those who can hear, and not as many 
 persons as these houses can hold." 
 
 This statement is confirmed by the counter- 
 petition of the trustees of Drury Lane, and 
 also in the following passage in Mrs. Richard- 
 son's (proprietor of one-fourth share of Drury 
 Lane) petition : " The proprietors of Drury 
 Lane Theatre have it in their power to prove, 
 incoritrovertibly, to any person whom your 
 Majesty in your goodness may please to ap- 
 point for investigating the fact, that their the- 
 atre (and it is supposed that they might safely 
 add that of Covent Garden) could have held, 
 taHng the average of the season, and carrying that 
 average through every season since its commencement , 
 double the number it has ever received." 
 
 This is an important admission, and if 
 made during the O. P. war would not have 
 been lost sight of : indeed, it is probable that 
 in the ferment then created by the obstinacy 
 of the Covent Garden proprietors, the Peti- 
 tioners might have gained their object, had 
 they undertaken to build a theatre of a mo- 
 derate size, and to charge moderate prices. 
 Mrs. Richardson relied upon her statement as 
 a proof that there was sufficient accommoda- 
 tion for the public without the necessity for a 
 third theatre ; but she did not see the stronger 
 inference that could be drawn from it ; i. e. if 
 the two old theatres never held, on an ave- 
 rage, " since their construction, " more than 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 175 
 
 half the number they could contain, where 
 was the necessity to rebuild Covent Garden 
 Theatre on so large a scale, and with such 
 costly magnificence ? If the respectable arbi- 
 trators, whose names we have mentioned, took 
 only for their guidance the accounts sworn to 
 by Messrs. Hughes and Tull of the receipts 
 and payments for six years, set down in ag- 
 gregate amounts of from 50,000 to 80,000, 
 their report must necessarily have been found- 
 ed on an incorrect basis. It was not possible 
 they could go through all the books of the 
 theatre, but the box-keeper's book would have 
 enabled them to arrive at the fact stated by 
 Mrs. Richardson ; and then would have come 
 the question, not whether, without increased 
 prices, there would be a loss to the proprietors 
 of three-quarters per cent, per annum, but, 
 whether, on the part of those gentlemen, there 
 had been such a prudent outlay as justified 
 them in calling upon the public to re-imburse 
 them for their speculation by increased 
 prices. 
 
 Against the petition of the subscribers to 
 the projected new theatre, petitions were pre- 
 sented by the trustees of the subscribers for 
 building old Drury Lane ; by Messrs. Harris 
 and Mr. Kemble, on behalf of Covent Garden 
 Theatre, in which, after stating that their ex- 
 penditure had been 200,000, there appears 
 the idle vaunt that a large proportion of the 
 
176 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 cost of their theatre has been appropriated "to 
 the exterior beauty of the building-, which 
 they venture to boast of as a public ornament, 
 and one of the most magnificent structures 
 that the property of individuals has ever 
 erected in the metropolis." The other peti- 
 tions were from the Right Honourable Rich- 
 ard Brinsley Sheridan, Caroline, wife of T. 
 Sheridan Esq., Mr. Elliston, Mr. Greville, Mr. 
 Arnold, Mr. Taylor, (of the Opera House) 
 and the trustees of Mrs. Martindale, for one 
 fourth of the Drury Lane patent. The pro- 
 positions of Mr. Sheridan and Mr. Elliston are 
 amusing. The first gentleman contends that 
 a third theatre is not required, but, if neces- 
 sary, that the proprietors of Drury Lane 
 should have the power to erect it, under their 
 dormant patent. It is difficult to conceive 
 that the practised pen of Mr. Sheridan could 
 have stated two propositions so much at vari- 
 ance as the following : 
 
 " That your petitioner by no means purposes 
 to contend that it might not be better for the gen- 
 eral interests of the drama, and the purposes for 
 which it has so long been considered as a fit 
 object of legislative protection, that the ex- 
 isting monopoly should be wholly destroyed ; 
 your petitioner's conviction, that the immediate 
 destruction of the respect and utility of the stage 
 would be the consequence, he entirely passes by 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 177 
 
 If this were not bad logic, it was certainly 
 bad taste in Mr. Sheridan to speak thus of 
 the actors, by whose exertions he had, in a 
 great measure, been subsisting 1 for so many 
 years of his life. 
 
 " You would in that case (the destruction 
 of the monopoly) never see a respectable per- 
 former ; for amongst that class there is a great 
 deal of ambition, avarice, and pride, and you 
 never could get a person to play Hamlet, at a 
 small theatre, who had once played it at a 
 large theatre." 
 
 This is the reverse of fact ; for, not to men- 
 tion other first-rate actors, Mr. Young and 
 Mr. Elliston, within the recollection of the 
 petitioner, had played principal parts (Hamlet 
 among the rest) at the Haymarket Theatre ; 
 as, subsequently, did the late Mr. Kean, Mr. 
 Macready, and Mr. Charles Kean ; doubtless 
 with more satisfaction to themselves, inas- 
 much as they were not under the necessity of 
 straining their lungs, and certainly with more 
 striking effect than in the " huge cockpits " in 
 which the proprietors of the patent theatres 
 chose to exhibit them. 
 
 The petitioners for a third theatre failed in 
 their application. The argument that they 
 were availing themselves of the recent calam- 
 ity which had befallen the two patent theatres 
 had some weight, particularly as regarded 
 Mrs. Richardson, who, with her four daugh- 
 
178 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ters, was left almost destitute ; and the force 
 of the objection, that corporate privileges would 
 give the new theatre an advantage over its 
 patent competitors, does not appear to have 
 been answered. Some entertaining sparring 
 took place between Mr. Sheridan and Mr. 
 Warren, the counsel for the petitioners. The 
 former gentleman said : " As to the learned 
 gentleman's wit, I must say that I am very 
 much pleased with it, and therefore I will al- 
 low him to supply me with wit, if he in return 
 will allow me to furnish him with law." To 
 which Mr. Warren replied : " I have no wish 
 to comment on what Mr. Sheridan has said, 
 but I desire to decline his proposed exchange, 
 and am contented to remain in possession of 
 my art, and that he should keep his law." 
 
 With the exception of a slight return of 
 O. P. warfare at Covent Garden on the 10th Sep- 
 tember (1810) there is little of dramatic inte- 
 rest to record, except the appearance of Mr. 
 Lovegrove, on the 3rd October, at the Lyceum. 
 Mr. Lovegrove played Lord Ogleby, and played 
 it with great effect at this theatre. When he 
 was transplanted to the larger area of Drury 
 Lane, his voice, which was thin, could not con- 
 vey the effect of his judicious acting. 
 
 The success of the O. P. riots in London 
 occasioned a laudable spirit of emulation at 
 Liverpool, where an attempt was made to 
 carry on an H. P. (half-price) riot. They 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 179 
 
 managed matters better in this town. The 
 rioters were prosecuted at the Lancaster assizes, 
 not by the managers (Lewis and Knight), but 
 by the magistrates. Mr. Baron Graham was 
 of opinion that the evidence went sufficiently 
 to the proof of a conspiracy; but, as the conse- 
 quences of a conviction for that offence were so 
 highly penal, he recommended that the count 
 in the information for the conspiracy should 
 be given up ; which being agreed to, the de- 
 fendants were found guilty of the riot. 
 
 Munden was at this period at Liverpool, 
 where he had been playing, as had also Mr. 
 Cooke. Mr. Harris, having some misgivings 
 as to Cooke's proceedings, wrote to Munden 
 to beg he would not leave without him, but 
 accompany him every stage to town, in the 
 interim keeping as strict a guard as he could 
 on him. Munden, though labouring under a 
 severe attack of gout, took what pains he 
 could. It happened that there was at Liver- 
 pool at the time a gentleman of the name of 
 Cooper, who had played some seasons in Lon- 
 don with no great success, but, visiting Ame- 
 rica, was hailed as a prodigy, and became the 
 American Roscius, and a manager. Mr. 
 Cooper, who had returned to England to col- 
 lect recruits, was then on the eve of his de- 
 parture, and it would seem that he had held 
 some consultations with Cooke, which proba- 
 bly coming to the hears of Mr. Harris, in- 
 
180 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 duced him to write the letter, to which the 
 following- is a reply. 
 
 To Henry Harris, Esq., Theatre Royal, Covent Garden. 
 
 Liverpool, September 30. 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 This morning I received yours of the 28th. 
 Part of my luggage has been in town, I hope this month past. 
 I have not appeared on any stage since the 7th. From the 
 night I finished my engagement in this town, Tuesday, the 
 14th August, I have only acted five nights. I have been un- 
 der medical care the greatest part of the time since I returned 
 here, and indeed it was for that very purpose I came. Mun- 
 den, who is recovering from a very severe attack of the gout, 
 requested me to stay a day or two for iiim. I have done so, 
 and yesterday I paid for both our places on Tuesday morning 
 next, (Sunday coaches being all engaged, and not one going on 
 Monday, the mail excepted.) On Wednesday evening we 
 shall, I trust, reach the Golden Cross. 
 
 I remain, my dear Sir, 
 
 Your most obedient, 
 
 G. F. COOKE. 
 
 Will the reader believe that, four days after 
 the date of this letter, Mr. Cooke sailed for 
 the United States of America? The deep du- 
 plicity of this proceeding was in accordance 
 with the uniform tenor of Cooke's life ; and his 
 cool statements about the 4< Sunday coaches," 
 and u reaching- Charing- Cross " are good speci- 
 mens of that accomplished hypocrisy, which 
 rendered him so great an actor. To add to 
 the villainy of his conduct, he was under an 
 engagement to Mr. Harris, and owed him a 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 181 
 
 large sum of money. Mr. Cooper thought it 
 necessary to give some account of his share of 
 the transaction, in a letter to the newspapers, 
 dated three days after Cooke had been got out 
 of the way. In this letter he positively de- 
 nied the truth of an awkward report which 
 was in circulation, that he " had prevailed with 
 Mr. Cooke to quit England, when he was pre- 
 vented by inebriety from exerting his judgment 
 and free will upon the occasion." Mr. Cooper, 
 afforded the information that his negotiations 
 with Cooke commenced about the 6th of Au- 
 gust, although he asserted they were not con- 
 cluded until the 3rd October. 
 
 All that Munden could tell his manager on 
 returning to London was this. Early on the 
 morning when it was arranged they should 
 take their departure for town, he hobbled with 
 difficulty to Cooke's lodgings. He found him 
 dressed, seated in a chair ; the empty brandy 
 bottle was on the table ; the last expiring 
 glimmer of the candle was in the socket. 
 With one eye shut, and the other dim he gazed 
 upon his promised companion, and, in answer 
 to his remonstrance, and assurance that they 
 had barely time to reach the coach, hiccup- 
 ped : " You be d d. " Munden knew that 
 further intreaties would be vain, and as he had 
 his own engagement to attend to, left him 
 " alone in his glory. " 
 
 It was at this very town of Liverpool that 
 
182 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Cooke had been playing on a previous occa- 
 sion, when great excitement prevailed on ac- 
 count of the agitation of the slave-trade abo- 
 lition question in parliament. Cooke fancied 
 himself insulted, because his benefit had not 
 been equal to his expectations ; and, passing, 
 in his usual state, by one of the principal 
 coffee-houses, he beheld several of the mer- 
 chants assembled in the rooms and vicinity. 
 Shaking his fist at them he exclaimed : " I 
 thank my God, I carry away none of your 
 d d money : every brick in your accursed 
 town is stained with African blood ! ! " When 
 he appeared afterwards on the stage, the hub- 
 bub was indescribable. He attempted to 
 speak, but was saluted by cries of " off! off!" 
 and a shower of hisses. Silence was at length 
 restored, and Cooke addressed the audience in 
 these words : " Ladies and Gentlemen, if you 
 will allow me to go through my part, I will 
 never disgrace myself by appearing before you 
 again." 
 
 He then retreated to the side scenes, and 
 said to a party there, from whom this anec- 
 dote is derived, with a satirical expression of 
 countenance.: " It's the blood the blood !" 
 
 The managers advertised him for the next 
 night, with the sure card Richard the Third 
 and Sir Archy Mac-sarcasm. The signal of 
 his presence was one universal hiss. Cooke 
 advanced to the stage, placing his hand on his 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 183 
 
 breast, and bowing with affected humility, 
 waited until the tumult subsided, and then in- 
 treated the audience to hear him. " Had I 
 not been unfortunately interrupted, Ladies 
 and Gentlemen," said he, in his blandest ac- 
 cents, " my address to you would have been 
 thus, Ladies and Gentlemen, if you will al- 
 low me to go through my part, I will never 
 disgrace myself by appearing before you again 
 in the same condition." The ruse succeeded 
 " bravo ! Cooke ! " resounded, and he played 
 Richard with more than his usual energy. 
 The reader who may wish to peruse any more 
 stories of this extraordinary man's powers of 
 vituperation will find many in his life by Mr. 
 Dunlop. 
 
 We have said so much of Mr. Cooke as an 
 actor, that it seems scarcely necessary to re- 
 vert to the subject, except as regards his 
 means of acquiring information and his habits 
 of study. To what extent he had been edu- 
 cated does not appear ; but that he had re- 
 ceived a respectable education was evident 
 from the correctness of his reading, the pro- 
 priety of his emphasis, and his general know- 
 ledge of his author. Beyond this it does not 
 seem necessary that an actor's learning should 
 extend : the knowledge of human nature is 
 better acquired in the active scenes of life 
 than from the books of the learned. 
 
 Cooke had seen and watched attentively 
 
184 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the best performances of Garrick, Barry, She- 
 ridan, Henderson, and Macklin, and had 
 played with Mrs. Siddons before he joined 
 Austen and Whitlock's company. Mr. Kem- 
 ble, whilst they continued upon amicable terms, 
 used sometimes to chat with him on the sub- 
 ject of their mutual profession. "John," 
 said Cooke, in one of those moments of com- 
 munion, " if you and I were pounded in a 
 mortar we should not make a limb of a Gar- 
 rick!" Garrick he held in reverence, and 
 used to repeat passages in imitation of his 
 great predecessor in Kitely, a part in which 
 Cooke himself excelled. He also with can- 
 dour acknowledged that he had adopted a 
 great many of his points from Henderson. 
 The following (from one of his diaries) is a 
 just exposure of the many pretenders to ex- 
 cellence in the profession of the stage. " It 
 is common for many on the stage to say they 
 have studied a character when they even know 
 not what the expression means : their utmost 
 idea of studying being to obtain a knowledge 
 of the author's words. In all ranks and pro- 
 fessions there are, doubtless, many whose 
 genius or abilities are not suited to the situa- 
 tion in which they move, and the stage cer- 
 tainly has a great share the pulpit a greater. 
 It is grievous to behold the higher classes of 
 society represented in a play by those whose 
 utmost stretch of abilities does not qualify 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 185 
 
 them to appear as their attendants. There are 
 actors and actresses, and some of them in 
 what are called respectable situations, who 
 are not only destitute of the embellishments 
 of education, but are absolutely incapable of 
 reading 1 their native language." 
 
 Mr. Kemble, with all his excellencies, had 
 a pedantical and studied mode of delivery, 
 partly occasioned by his constitutional asthma, 
 which would have been transmitted to a host 
 of imitators, had not Cooke appeared, and 
 re-asserted that natural delivery of the text 
 which Garrick had initiated, and which Mr. 
 Kean continued to preserve. But it was a 
 great mistake to call those accomplished ac- 
 tors (Cooke and Kean), " children of nature," 
 in opposition to Kemble as a " child of art. " 
 No doubt Mr. Kemble brought to his aid great 
 classical knowledge, which aided him in cos- 
 tume and in the propriety of the scene. But 
 that he studied more deeply than either of his 
 rivals, or used more art, does not appear. We 
 learn from Barry Cornwall's clever life of 
 Kean, that Kean was in the habit of sitting 
 up all night, when he had a new part, and 
 rehearsing it before a looking-glass illumin- 
 ated by candles ; and Cooke was accustomed 
 to wander for hours together in solitary spots 
 with his part in his hand. Cooke, also, was 
 a diligent reader of all the books that fell into 
 his hands, and his criticisms on them in his 
 
186 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 diaries are generally correct and well-ex- 
 pressed. 
 
 He also carefully scored his parts, marking 
 the requisite shades of passion and the bye- 
 play. He wanted the stature and finely- 
 moulded form of Kemble ; but his figure was 
 strongly knit and his tread firm ; his features 
 were prominent and flexible ; his eye-brow 
 marked, and eye expressive ; and his voice 
 powerful and clear in his best days. His 
 action was appropriate and commanding. 
 In the business of the stage he was tho- 
 roughly versed. The late Mr. Pope used 
 to term Cooke " a brown paper actor :" he 
 certainly excelled in parts in which coarse- 
 ness formed an ingredient. In Othello and 
 Penruddock he was not great: his Hamlet 
 was a failure, and deemed so both by the 
 manager, who had urged him to play it, and 
 the audience. He only performed the part 
 twice in London. But in the Scotch cha- 
 racters he was pre-eminent. In Kitely, 
 Shylock, and a great portion of Richard 
 III, he had no rival. 
 
 He also showed considerable powers of 
 humour in " Falstaff," and in early life played 
 comedy with great effect. Upon the whole, 
 it must be said that he was an actor of the 
 highest order, with few equals in our time. 
 Mr. Harris was so sensible of his value that 
 he passed over his ingratitude, and wrote, 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 187 
 
 in March, 1812, to invite him to return to 
 England, and Co vent Garden, where he would 
 be received with cordial welcome. No doubt 
 he would have been more popular than ever, 
 for the town had, in his absence, felt his 
 loss. But Death had set his seal upon him. 
 He breathed his last on the 26th Sept. 1812, 
 aged fiffy-seven years and five months. The 
 Americans had seen Mrs. Whitlock and Mrs. 
 Merry, but they had never seen a first-rate 
 tragic actor until they saw Cooke. Mr. 
 Cooke was thrice married ; first, to Miss 
 Daniels, a singer, who ran away from him, 
 and the marriage was declared null and void ; 
 it is said that he threatened to cut her tongue 
 out, perhaps it could rail as well as sing; 
 secondly to a Miss Lambe, who separated 
 from him ; and thirdly, in America, to a lady 
 who is said, by his biographer, to have tended 
 him with kindness and affection. Such a 
 partner, earlier in life, might have modified, 
 if not altered his habits. As it was, his com- 
 panions fostered his vices to prey upon him. 
 In the receipt of a large income he was 
 always poor, and he died almost a beggar. 
 
 Covent Garden, Theatre opened for the sea- 
 son on the 10th Sept. 1810. Mr. Sheridan, 
 having obtained an act of parliament to re- 
 build Drury Lane, which legalized the letting 
 of the private boxes that might be set apart 
 in that theatre, the Covent Garden proprietors 
 
188 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 thought they might take advantage of that 
 circumstance to retain a greater number of 
 their private boxes than were " nominated 
 in the bond." Some intimation of this inten- 
 tion was given on the concluding night of 
 the last season, and, it being supposed that 
 a kind of tacit assent had been obtained, in 
 the hope of rendering the public placable they 
 made some improvements in the avenues to 
 the theatre, and raised the ceiling of the gal- 
 leries during the recess. But as this proceed- 
 ing was in direct violation of the famous con- 
 tract concluded at the Crown and Anchor 
 Tavern, it was evidently an unwise one, and 
 proved unsuccessful. Again was Mr. Kemble 
 hooted and hissed on that stage, where, in his 
 proper capacity of an actor, he always expe- 
 rienced unbounded approbation. The contest 
 was a short one ; a second time the managers 
 were compelled to yield ; and peace was restored 
 on the 21st. Mr. Brandon had long previously 
 resumed his situation, after publishing a sen- 
 sible address to the public, wherein he stated, 
 " I have been thirty-nine years in the box-office 
 of Covent-Garden Theatre, and I humbly ap- 
 peal to its visitors, whether,. during that long 
 period, I have not served them with the utmost 
 fidelity, zeal, and impartiality. It was with 
 the deepest regret, independently of all per- 
 sonal considerations, that, in my anxiety to 
 discharge what I conceived my duty, I found 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 189 
 
 I had given offence to any individual. I pre- 
 sume to hope that the feeling's which urged my 
 dismission from a situation that I had so long 
 held have subsided, and that the public at 
 large will accept my hearty contrition, as an 
 atonement for every thing that has been deemed 
 improper in my conduct." 
 
 Thus terminated the reign of O. P. His 
 natural or violent death, in whichever way it 
 may be viewed, was celebrated by Anthony 
 Pasquin, who had returned from his exile, in a 
 ditty supposed to be sung by Mr. Munden, of 
 which the following is the only decent por- 
 tion : 
 
 THE GHOST OF 0. P. 
 
 The moon was madd'ning half mankind, 
 
 While desolation thinn'd life's tree, 
 When, 'mid night's damps at Kentish Town, 
 
 I met the spectre of 0. P. 
 " O. P.," said I, why thus so wan ?" 
 
 Then, snivelling, thus quoth he to me 
 " Go, mend your galligaskins, Joe, 
 
 And think no more of poor O. P. 
 
 " May discord rage behind your scenes, 
 
 And flash her brands at John and thee ; 
 May all your wives have triple tongues, 
 
 And then you'll think of poor O. P. 
 On Saturday may forfeits dire 
 
 Vex Fawcett, Young, and Emery ; 
 May Claremont cease to murder belles, 
 
 That will be bliss for poor 0. P. 
 
190 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 " Rattles and catcalls now must sleep, 
 
 Placards be wrapped round bad bohea; 
 Bugles be scoff 'd, and horns of tin, 
 
 For fate hath crippled poor 0. P." &c. &c. 
 
 Jan. 7, 1811, Munden, having- recovered 
 from his fit of the gout, or rather debility (for 
 it was upon this occasion he took the violent 
 medicine, as before related, which enabled him 
 to return to town, and immediately laid him 
 up again), played Sir Francis Wronghead, 
 Mr. Young playing Lord Townley with his 
 usual excellence, and Miss Bolton the trifling 
 part of Lady Grace with delicacy and unaf- 
 fected modesty. Jan. 9, Othello was per- 
 formed by Mr. Young, and lago by Mr. C. 
 Kemble, in the place of Mr. Cooke. Feb. 18, 
 the Covent- Garden managers revived " Blue 
 Beard," for the purpose of introducing Mr. 
 Parker's stud of horses as one of the " exhi- 
 bitions of the drama worthy of a critical and 
 enlightened people" (see their advertisement, 
 Oct. 1809). Feb. 21, Mr. Kemble played Sir 
 Giles Overreach, so long the property of Mr. 
 Cooke ; and Munden, Marrall. Mr. Kemble 
 played Sir Giles with great discrimination, but 
 his appearance and manners were too gentle- 
 manly for the part. Overreach is a parvenu 
 an ill-bred, ferocious man : the coarse violence 
 of Cooke was exactly suited to its delineation. 
 Miss S. Booth played Margaret respectably, 
 Kemble having taken great pains to instruct 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 191 
 
 Miss Booth in the character. March 6, Madame 
 Catalani sang for the first time in a concert of 
 sacred music, at that theatre which had so lately 
 been shaken to its foundations on her account. 
 When led into the orchestra by Mr. Braham, 
 she was evidently much alarmed, fearing a si- 
 milar outbreak, but was received with loud 
 applause, a proper tribute to her unrivalled 
 talents. April 2, Munden played Sir Anthony 
 Absolute. 17th, " Dromio of Syracuse." 23rd, 
 Mr. Holman produced his comedy of " The 
 Gazette Extraordinary." Though that gentle- 
 man had never been engaged as an actor at 
 Covent-Garden since his secession from the 
 theatre shortly after the "rebellion" of the 
 actors, as a dramatist he was always admitted. 
 "The Gazette Extraordinary" was very suc- 
 cessful, played, as it was, by Young, Jones, 
 Barrymore, Fawcett, Munden, Murray, Mr. 
 H. Johnston, Miss Bolton, Mrs. Davenport, 
 and Miss Booth. " Blue Beard " not having 
 answered the purpose of the house, the pro- 
 prietors of Covent-Garden had recourse to 
 another spectacle, by which they hoped to at- 
 tract more crowded houses than the excellent 
 company they possessed could draw to the 
 "finest theatre in Europe." They judged 
 rightly that the horses could be seen, and did 
 not require to be heard. This new pageant, 
 denominated a grand romantic melo-drama, 
 was produced under the direction of Mr. Far- 
 
192 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ley, and entitled " Timour the Tartar." Mrs. 
 H. Johnston, who was a daughter of Mr. 
 Parker, the equestrian (or of Mrs. Parker, by 
 a former husband), was quite at home on 
 horseback, and looked and played delightfully. 
 In the debates in parliament (9th May), on the 
 second reading of the Bill for a third theatre 
 (which was lost), there was a great discre- 
 pancy between the statements made by Hon. 
 Members respecting the accommodation afford- 
 ed to the public. Mr. Marriatt noticed " the 
 extreme inconvenience to which the public 
 were put by having only one theatre,"' and 
 said that, " If a gentleman applied for a box 
 for himself and family, he was informed he 
 could not get one for fourteen days ; and thus 
 taking it on chance for that time, if they wanted 
 to laugh at a comedy, they were perhaps seated 
 to cry at a tragedy ; and, if they desired a tra- 
 gedy, they might be treated with a comedy, or 
 a melo-drama." Mr. Sheridan, on the con- 
 trary, affirmed that " it was erroneous to say 
 there was only one theatre, when, in fact, there 
 were two ; and one of that very description 
 which gentlemen required ; where they could 
 hear every thing, and see the varied expres- 
 sion of the actor's countenance ; and where 
 there was no room for cavalry to prance about ; 
 and yet that theatre was almost deserted, 
 though there never was a better company col- 
 lected together under a more able manager." 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 193 
 
 Mr. Sheridan likewise observed, that " Mr. 
 Kemble would much rather, he was sure, act 
 on his own two legs, than call in the aid of 
 cavalry; but the fact was, that the taste of the 
 town was more gratified by them ; that taste 
 being perverted by the depravity of manners, 
 and the alteration in the mode of living, which 
 prevented people of fashion from attending and 
 taking the lead in the theatres as formerly/' 
 So the poor town was to be blamed, because it 
 would only go to see, what it could see, and be- 
 cause Mr. Sheridan was about to build another 
 huge theatre, and hoped, by dint of railing 
 against the public taste, to shame audiences 
 into filling it. This strain might become the 
 adapter of " Pizarro," but not the author of 
 " The School for Scandal/' 
 
 The public were astounded by the informa- 
 tion that an amateur of large fortune was per- 
 forming in the provinces, who wore his own 
 (real) diamonds, which were said to be im- 
 mensely valuable. In process of time this star 
 of the first magnitude came to astonish the 
 natives of London. 
 
 Mr. Coates, for that was his name, distin- 
 guished himself by driving in a strange vehi- 
 cle, and various other acts, bordering on in- 
 sanity ; but all that he did was outdone by his 
 performance of Romeo. He played amid 
 roars of laughter, and seemed to glory in it. 
 To satisfy the encore of the audience he died 
 
 K 
 
1 94 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 twice, and acquired the name of Romeo Coates. 
 This was a fertile subject for the accurate 
 mimicry of the late Mr. Matthews. Mr. 
 Coates bore the "taking off" very good hu- 
 mouredly, stretching himself from the stage 
 box, and heartily shaking Mr. Matthews by 
 the hand. With equal good humour did he 
 submit to a stupid hoax that was played upon 
 him, by sending him a forged card of invitation 
 to an entertainment at Carlton House. Mr. 
 Coates, dressed for the occasion, sent in the 
 card, and was politely informed by the Lord 
 in waiting that it was a forgery. He quietly 
 walked back to his carriage, and afforded no 
 amusement to the hoaxer. This gentleman 
 distinguished himself, during the Thiers"* ad- 
 ministration, by a wish for perpetual amity 
 between France and England, expressed in 
 the presence of the King of the French ; to 
 whose response, delivered in English, consi- 
 derable political importance was attached at 
 the time. 
 
 May 24, Munden continued to play his 
 usual parts with little novelty, until the revi- 
 val of Shakespeare's comedy, "All's well that 
 ends well," in which he played Lafen. We 
 are sorry now to record a severance of that 
 connection which had subsisted so long be- 
 tween our actor and Covent Garden Theatre. 
 So far back as 1803, Munden's dissatisfaction 
 with Mr. Harris's new regulations, which he 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 195 
 
 shared in common with seven of his brethren, 
 appears to have been aggravated by the en- 
 deavour to press upon him the part of Sir Si- 
 mon Rochdale in Column's comedy of " John 
 Bull. v This part we find, by a copy of a let- 
 ter from Mr. Harris, senior, dated March 7, 
 1803, lying- before us, he returned to that gen- 
 tleman personally, it is said (we hope in anger 
 only), " in the rudest language of defiance ;" 
 stating his determination never to perform a 
 second character in any piece whatever. Mr. 
 Harris's letter is so intemperately written that 
 it would not be fair to publish it in the ab- 
 sence of Munden's (to which it is a reply, and 
 of which no copy has been preserved) request- 
 ing that his engagement might be made void 
 at the end of the season. This request Mr. 
 Harris, in very strong language, refuses, and 
 recapitulates various charges of misconduct, 
 and even of insult towards the theatre that 
 <f fostered" him. We repeat that we are nei- 
 ther in a condition to affirm or deny any of 
 these charges ; but on the one expression 
 quoted, we venture to say, that no man, or 
 body of men, can foster a good actor. It is 
 his talent alone that fosters him. Mr. Har- 
 ris's liberality, which we have readily ad- 
 mitted, would not have been extended to 
 Munden, had he not brought money to the 
 treasury ; nor would the public have tolerated 
 him, had he not pleased them. If the pro- 
 
 K 2 
 
196 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 prietors of Covent Garden Theatre had not en- 
 gaged Mr. Munden, the Drury Lane or Hay- 
 market proprietors would have done so ere 
 long*. An actor of reputation is never allow- 
 ed to slumber in obscurity. 
 
 By Mr. Harris's letter it appears that our 
 actor received, in 1803, 14 per week, and, by 
 the subjoined documents, he received 17 in 
 1811 : this was not a very large increase in 
 the space of eight years, especially as he had 
 brought much money to the theatre. Mrs. 
 Siddons (far be it from us to hint any com- 
 parison) received 50 per night for a stipu- 
 lated number of nights. 
 
 That Munden was right in refusing the in- 
 different part of Sir Simon Rochdale is per- 
 fectly evident. When he came to Covent 
 Garden Theatre in 1790, and found Mr. Quick 
 and Mr. Wilson in possession of the priority 
 of parts, he acquiesced ; as he did when, at a pe- 
 riod later than that of which we are now writ- 
 ing, he joined the Drury Lane company, and 
 found Mr. Dowton in a similar position. On 
 the secession of the two first-mentioned emi- 
 nent performers, he became the principal 
 comic actor at Covent Garden (Mr. Fawcett 
 was a later importation) and entitled to the 
 choice of characters, which usage had ren- 
 dered sacred, and which had been enforced, as 
 we have seen, in a manner disagreeable to 
 Munden. when he had been required to surren- 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 197 
 
 der the part of Silky, in the " Road to Ruin," 
 after having studied it. Neither Mr. Quick, 
 Mr. Wilson, nor Mr. Dowton, so placed, would 
 have consented to play the part of Sir Simon 
 Rochdale. 
 
 Good feeling- seems to have been restored 
 between the manager and the actor, by the 
 following letter, which, though bearing no 
 date, must, by its reference to the young Ro- 
 scius, have been written in 1804-5. 
 
 Theatre, Sunday. 
 DEAR MUNDEN, 
 
 I hear you have a large addition sent you for 
 the new comedy, however I depend on your good na- 
 ture and friendship that we shall not be disappointed of our 
 play for Wednesday. Your benefit will be on Tuesday the 
 14th May it is very late to be sure, but the benefits are un- 
 avoidably deferred this year on account of the Young Roscius, 
 and the unlucky delay of Mr. Colman's comedy ; but I trust 
 this will be of no injury to you or any body. 
 
 Ever truly yours, 
 
 T. HARRIS. 
 Joseph Munden, Esq. 
 
 The following correspondence will best ex- 
 plain the new grievances that arose. The 
 draft of Munden's first letter is not to be 
 found. 
 
 No. 1. 
 
 Treasury Office, 
 
 , January 9, 1811. 
 
 The Proprietors of Covent Garden Theatre, having taken 
 into consideration Mr. Munden's request of being allowed hi 
 
198 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 salary from the commencement of the present season, to the 
 time when he was able to join the company, and to attend to 
 his theatrical duties they find that it would establish a 
 most dangerous precedent to grant Mr. Munden's request, as it 
 would break through a long established regulation in the the- 
 atre ; viz, "That no performer can receive any salary until 
 they* had either acted, or given notice of their readiness to do 
 so, when called upon." In fact the interests of the proprie- 
 tors have recently suffered most severely by the protracted 
 illness of performers, too frequently occasioned, not by their 
 professional exertions at Covent Garden Theatre (which they 
 should always think themselves bound to remunerate), but 
 brought on by their irregularities and over exertions elsewhere, 
 which it would be very bad policy to encourage. 
 
 The present situation of the concerns of the Theatre pre- 
 cludes the probability of the proprietors indulging in any ex- 
 traordinary act of liberality, for, without any reservation of 
 emolument to themselves, they are compelled to divide among 
 their numerous claimants the whole receipts of the theatre. 
 The proprietors therefore can only express a hope that the in- 
 creased size of the new theatre and the raised prices (which the 
 proprietors have effected entirely at their own risk, and which 
 Mr. Munden thought proper so loudly and unadvisedly to 
 condemn, during the distressing contest of last year) may now 
 enable him at his benefit, to retrieve the loss that he will sus- 
 tain this season. 
 
 No. 2. 
 
 No date probably July, 1811. 
 
 In the apprehension that, after a cool and dispassionate 
 review of Mr. .Munden's appeal for salary, during his cpnfine- 
 ment in the earlier part of this season, the managers of Covent 
 Garden Theatre would, before its close, yield him some satis- 
 
 * So in the original letter. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 199 
 
 faction, he has thus long abstained from further pressing upon 
 their attention : but, having been disappointed in his expecta- 
 tion, he now begs to offer the following remarks on such his 
 appeal, and their reply. 
 
 Mr. Munden's claim for salary from the commencement of the 
 current season was founded on the following circumstances : 
 that, notwithstanding he was in a state of confirmed malady 
 at that time (which the managers may assure themselves was 
 not attributable to either of the causes alleged in their note, 
 but to the mere visitation of Providence), he hastened from 
 Liverpool to town, with no other view or inclination than to 
 perform his theatrical duties ; his anxieties to effect which 
 increased his complaint, and defeated the accomplishment of 
 his wishes. 
 
 Mr. Munden is avowed by the managers to be proscribed 
 their indulgence, only because his affliction originated before he 
 could join the company ; but he is desirous to impress on 
 their minds that he received numerous characters for study 
 before he was capable of such a junction ; and he appre- 
 hended himself so employed, as much in his professional duty, 
 constructively, as if he had given formal notice of his readiness 
 to perform; besides which, it must be in Mr. Kemble's re- 
 collection, that he kindly dissuaded Mr. Munden in more in- 
 stances than one from too early an attendance at the theatre. 
 He therefore asks, and still confidently trusts to receive a 
 more favourable answer from the managers than the one 
 already communicated. 
 
 The advantages hinted at by the managers' note as likely to 
 result to Mr. Munden from the increased size of the new theatre^ 
 and the raised prices, he assures them have not been realized ; 
 as his benefit, owing to the advanced season at which it was 
 announced, proved more unproductive than it has been for a 
 series of preceding years ; and Mr. Munden conceives it hardly 
 fair that the managers should advert to raised prices, when, for 
 the chance of an advantage to result from them, he was made 
 an additional charge of forty pounds. 
 
200 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 His late detention in town he also feels to be an extreme 
 evil, precluding, as it does, the power of making country en- 
 gagements, which are ever most profitable, and the opportunity 
 for which is yielded to some of his brother actors, but withheld 
 from him ; though it was stipulated in a private agreement 
 between Mr. Harris and himself that should any other 
 actor be permitted to leave the theatre before the close of 
 the theatrical season, Mr. Munden should enjoy the same 
 rivilege. 
 
 On the whole, Mr. Munden's emoluments and advantages 
 have been so reduced, during the current season, that the in- 
 come derived from his town engagement has proved insufficient 
 for the liberal * support of his family. He, therefore, should 
 his appeal be conceived irregular, solicits that he may be re- 
 lieved from his present articles, and possess the liberty to exer- 
 cise his talent to better advantage. 
 
 No. 3. 
 
 The causes assigned by Mr. Munden for his request to quit 
 the theatre are so frivolous, unfounded, and unreasonable, that 
 the proprietors have no doubt that Mr. M. has some more 
 profitable pursuit in view; they therefore do not hesitate to 
 comply with his desire. 
 
 Mr. Munden's expectation of being paid for the length of 
 time he was absent, being from the opening in September to 
 the 15th Dec. before he set his foot in the theatre this season, 
 is contrary to all justice, and to the unvarying rule of the 
 theatre. Mr. M. must be aware of the great loss, and incon- 
 venience sustained by the theatre, in consequence of his long 
 absence, and that a new piece, as well as several attractive 
 plays, were laid aside on that account. 
 
 * The copy of this letter is not in Munden's hand-writing ; 
 assuredly, this phrase was not his ; his general style was sim 
 pie and unostentatious. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 201 
 
 Does Mr. Munden expect (at a time too when the pro- 
 prietors are so much pressed by their creditors) that they 
 should shut up their theatre in the midst of successful and 
 profitable business, in order to give Mr. M. an opportunity of 
 making a better engagement in the country ? Has not Mr. 
 M. received his salary at this theatre, although engaged and 
 performing at the Haymarket Theatre ?* Notwithstanding 
 Mr. M. did not commence his acting this season until the 
 29th Dec. he was paid from the 15th Dec., a fortnight before 
 he performed, and has cleared this season (including his 
 benefit) between 7 and 800/., a sum much greater than has 
 come to the share of the principal proprietors ; but Mr. M. 
 appears to have no feeling for any one's family but his own. 
 He says : " That his present emolument is not sufficient for the 
 liberal support of' his family, and desires to be relieved from his 
 present articles, and to possess the liberty to exercise his talent to 
 better advantage." 
 
 In reply, the proprietors acquaint Mr. Muriden that they 
 inclose him his articles cancelled, and as they shall not expect 
 Mr. M.'s assistance the next season, that they have made 
 their arrangements acordingly. 
 
 P.S. Mr. Munden has made an unaccountable mistake in 
 regard to the charge of his benefit, the truth being that he has 
 been charged no more this season, and the last, than he was 
 in the old theatre, and ever since he entered into his last 
 engagement, notwithstanding the late advance in the prices of 
 admission to the boxes. It is true that some years ago the 
 charge for benefits was 40/. less ; but Mr. Munden may recol- 
 lect that his salary was then much lower, and that when he 
 first came to the theatre he had but 61. per week, and that 
 since, his salary has been gradually raised to 171. per week. 
 
 * This could only have been from the 13th, when he made 
 his appearance at the Haymarket, until the 23rd, when Covent 
 
 Garden closed. 
 
 K 5 
 
202 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Yet Mr. Munden is still dissatisfied with the reward of his 
 talent, and thinks it insufficient "for the liberal support of his 
 family." 
 
 Covent Garden Theatre, 
 July 25th 1811. 
 
 Upon this correspondence (the gravamen 
 of which was the sick clause*) we forbear 
 making- any remark, although, as Sir Roger 
 cle Coverley observes, " much might be said on 
 both sides." From that time forth Munden 
 never set his foot into Covent Garden Theatre, 
 except for a benefit. He engaged, as he had 
 done before, for the summer season at. the 
 Haymarket. 
 
 * See Mr. Smith's letter to the editor of " The Monthly 
 Mirror." 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 203 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Munden at the Haymarket The " Quadrupeds of Quedlin- 
 burgh" Lord Eldon's opinion of the Actors' Merits Act of 
 Parliament passed for rebuilding Drury Lane Our Actor's 
 great success in his provincial excursions Introduction to 
 Sir Walter Scott Mrs. Siddons' retirement from the Stage 
 Extraordinary honours paid to her Mr. Terry's appear- 
 ance at the Haymarket Opening of New Drury Lane. 
 Theatre under a sub-committee of management The Re- 
 jected Addresses The Drury Lane Company Munden's 
 engagement at Dniry Lane Bannister's mimicry, and its 
 unfortunate result. 
 
 MUNDEN came out at the Haymarket (July 
 13th) in " Old Dornton." Harry Dornton, 
 Mr. Elliston ; Sulky, Mr. Grove ; Silky, Mr. 
 Barnes ; Goldfinch, Mr. Jones ; Milford, Mr. 
 R. Jones ; the Widow Warren, Mrs. Grove ; 
 Sophia, Mrs. Barnes. Harry Dornton was 
 played by Elliston in his best manner. Mr. 
 Jones' volatile spirits and lively manners were 
 displayed to great advantage in Goldfinch ; 
 and Mrs. Barnes played Sophia with simplicity 
 and animation. " The Road to Ruin" was 
 repeated on the 17th ; on the 18th Munden 
 
204 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 played in " The School for Authors." The 
 Lyceum, the rival house, boasted at this 
 period of a company in which were Mr. 
 Knight, Mr. Lovegrove, Mrs. Orger, and, 
 above all, Miss Kelly, who was then winning 
 her way towards that high rank in her pro- 
 fession which she afterwards attained. The 
 Haymarket partners continued to disagree. 
 Mr. Morris had objected to the engagement 
 of Mr. Elliston, at a salary of 40. per week, 
 and two clear benefits. He published an 
 appeal to the public, complaining that this 
 engagement, as well as Messrs. Munden and 
 Jones's, had been concluded without his 
 knowledge. He refused to pay the salaries ; 
 but offered Mr. Elliston 20L per week and 
 one benefit ; and Messrs. Munden and Jones 
 " such salaries as they can reasonably be 
 entitled to :" these offers were refused. Mr. 
 Colman appealed to the Court of Chancery, 
 and the difference being arranged, Messrs. 
 Colman and Winston published the following 
 advertisement on the 25th July. 
 
 " Messrs. Colman and Winston, most grateful for past pa- 
 " tronage, and solicitous to deserve its continuance by every 
 " effort in their power, are happy in announcing to the public 
 " that they have surmounted the great difficulties opposed to 
 " them by their partner, and effected the return of Messrs. 
 " Elliston, Jones, and Munden ; in consequence of which, this 
 " evening will be performed ' The Road to Ruin.' " 
 
 July 2fith was produced a tragico-comico- 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 205 
 
 angle - Germanico - hippo - dramatico romance, 
 in two acts, called " The Quadrupeds of 
 Quedlinburgh ; or The Rovers of Weimar," 
 which, it was announced, had been " long in 
 preparation, and the public is respectfully 
 informed that every effort has been strained to 
 surpass nature !" 
 
 This piece was adapted, with alterations 
 and additions, from a dramatic sketch en- 
 titled " The Rovers," written by Mr. Can- 
 ning, and published several years previously, 
 in the " Anti-Jacobin." Mr. Canning's ob- 
 ject was to ridicule the prevailing taste for 
 German Dramas, with their sickly sentiment, 
 and undisguised immorality. Colman added 
 some introductory matter, and introduced 
 some smart hits at the quadruped performers 
 at Covent Garden. 
 
 DRAMATIS PERSONS OF THE QUADRUPEDS OF 
 QUEDLINBURGH. 
 
 CHARACTERS OF A VEHICULAR DESCRIPTION, BUT ON FOOT. 
 
 Mr, Bartholomew Bathos, (an English dramatist 
 on the German model, and student in the 
 veterinary college) .... Mr. Elliston. 
 
 Manager of the Haymarket Theatre (a very 
 
 " poor gentleman") ". . + - - \ .... Eyre. 
 
 Call-boy (a go-between) . . . . . . . Minton,. 
 
 CHARACTERS IN THE ROMANCE. 
 
 Duke of Saxe Weimar, (a sanguinary tyrant^ 
 
 with red hair, and an amorous complexion) . Noble. 
 
206 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Rogero (prisoner in the Abbey of Quedlinburgh, 
 
 in love with Matilda Pottingen) . Mr. Listen, 
 
 Casimere (a Polish emigrant in Dombrowski's 
 legion, married to Cecilia, and having 
 several children by Matilda) . . . Munden. 
 
 Beefington and Puddingfield* (English noblemen 
 exiled by the tyranny of King John, pre- 
 viously to the signature of Magna 
 Cfiarta) . . by Mr. Shaw and Mr. Grove. 
 
 Doctor Pottingen (L.L.D.) .... Mr. Martin. 
 
 Waiter at Weimar (a knight templar in disguise) . Finn. 
 
 Monk with a firelock (a military ecclesiastic) . . Lewis. 
 
 Matilda Pottingen (in love with Rogero, and 
 
 mother to Casimere's children) . . Mrs. Glover. 
 
 Cecilia Muckinfield (a passenger in the dilly, 
 
 and wife to Casimere) .... Gibbs, 
 
 Dame Schiittenbruch (widow and landlady of the 
 
 inn at Weimar) ..... Grove. 
 
 DUMBIES. 
 
 Neddy Crantz (jackass to the wheel of the well 
 
 in the Abbey of Quedlinburgh) . by a new performer. 
 Female captive (a corpulent virgin) . . Miss Leserve. 
 
 Pantalowski and Britchinda, children of Matilda, by Casi- 
 mere ; Joachim, Jabal, and Amarantha, children of Matilda, by 
 Rogero ; children of Casimere and Cecilia, with their respec- 
 tive nurses; several children, fathers and mothers unknown. 
 Officers, soldiers of the light and heavy horse, grenadiers, 
 troubadours, monks, donkeys, &c. &c. &c. 
 
 # * # Pedigrees of the horses, when published, will be distri- 
 buted in the theatre. 
 
 The trio and chorus (in a stunning whisper) composed by 
 Mr. Reeve, by Mr. Munden, by Mr. Payne, Mr. Shaw, &c. 
 
 The following prologue was spoken by Mr. 
 Elliston : 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 207 
 
 To lull the soul by spurious strokes of art, 
 
 To warp the genius, and mislead the heart ; 
 
 To make mankind revere wives gone astray,* 
 
 Love pious sons who rob on the highway ;f 
 
 For this the foreign muses trod our stage, 
 
 Commanding German schools to be the 'rage. 
 
 Hail to such schools ! Oh, fine false feel ing, hail ! 
 
 Thou badst non-natural nature to prevail ; 
 
 Through thee, soft super-sentiment arose, 
 
 Musk to the mind, like civet to the nose, 
 
 Till fainting taste (as invalids do wrong) 
 
 Snuff'd the sick perfume, and grew weakly strong. 
 
 Dear Johnny Bull ! you boast much resolution, 
 
 With, thanks to Heaven ! a glorious Constitution : 
 
 Your taste, recovered half from foreign quacks, 
 
 Takes airings, now, on English horses' backs ; 
 
 While every modern bard may raise his name, 
 
 If not on lasting praise, on stable fame. 
 
 Think that to Germans you have given no check, 
 
 Think how each actor hors'd has risk'd his neck ; 
 
 You 've shown them favour : Oh, then, once more show it 
 
 To this night's Anglo-German, Horse Play Poet ! J 
 
 The first act went off exceedingly well. A 
 scene, wherein Matilda Pottingen and Cecilia 
 Muckenfield meet, called forth loud bursts of 
 applause. 
 
 * Vide " The Stranger." -f " Lover's Vows." 
 
 The first twelve lines of this excellent parody on Pope's 
 prologue to Cato bear so close a resemblance to " New Mora- 
 lity," that I conceived them to be the composition of Mr. 
 Canning, until a reference to "The Anti-Jacobin" satisfied 
 me I was mistaken. Column's Muse seldom soars so high. 
 
208 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 SCENE BETWEEN MATILDA AND CECILIA. 
 
 From 
 " The Hovers ; or, The Double Arrangement.'' 1 
 
 Scene represents a room at an inn, at Weimar. On one side of 
 the stage the bar-room, with jellies, lemons in nets, syllabubs, 
 and part of a cold roast fowl, Sfc. ; on the opposite side, a win- 
 dow looking into the street, through which persons (inhabi- 
 tants of Weimar) are seen passing to and fro in apparent 
 agitation. Matilda appears in a great-coat and riding habit, 
 seated at the corner of a dinner table, which is covered with a 
 clean huckaback cloth : plates and napkins, with buck's-horn 
 handled knives and forks, are laid on as if for four persons. 
 
 Matilda. Is it possible that I can have dinner sooner ? 
 
 Landlady. Madam, the Brunswick post-waggon has not 
 yet come in ; and the ordinary is never before two o'clock. 
 
 Matilda (with a look of disappointment, but immediately re- 
 composing herself). Well, then, I must have patience. (Exit 
 Landlady.} Oh, Casimere ! How often have the thoughts of 
 thee served to amuse these moments of expectation ! What a 
 difference, alas ! Dinner it is taken away as soon as over, 
 and we regret it not ! It returns again with the return of 
 appetite. The beef of to-morrow will succeed to the mutton 
 of to-day, as the mutton of to-day succeeded to the veal of 
 yesterday. But when once the heart has been occupied by a 
 beloved object, in vain would we attempt to supply the charm 
 by another. How easily are our desires transferred from one 
 dish to another ! Love only dear, delusive love restrains 
 our wandering appetites, and confines them to a particular 
 gratification ! 
 
 (Post-horn blows. Re-enter Landlady.} 
 
 Landlady. Madam, the post-waggon is just come in, with 
 only a single gentlewoman. 
 
 Matilda. Then show her up, and let us have dinner in- 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 209 
 
 stantly (Landlady going) ; and remember (after a mo- 
 ment's hesitation, and with great earnestness) remember the 
 toasted cheese. (Exit Landlady.) 
 
 (Cecilia enters, in a brown riding dress, as if just alighted from 
 the post-waggon.) 
 
 Matilda. Madam, you seem to have had an unpleasant 
 journey, if I may judge from the dust on your riding habit. 
 
 Cecilia. The way was dusty, madam, but the weather was 
 delightful. It recalled to me those blissful moments when the 
 rays of desire first vibrated through my soul. 
 
 Matilda (aside.) Thank Heaven ! I have at last found a 
 heart which is in unison with my own. (To Cecilia.) Yes ; 
 I understand you. The first pulsation of sentiment : the silver 
 tones upon the yet unsounded harp. 
 
 Cecilia. The dawn of life when this blossom (putting 
 her hand to her heart) first expanded its petals to the pene- 
 trating dart of Love ! 
 
 Matilda. Yes, the time the golden time when the first 
 beams of the morning meet and embrace one another ! The 
 blooming blue upon the yet unplucked plumb ? 
 
 Cecilia. Your countenance grows animated, my dear ma- 
 dam. 
 
 Matilda. And yours, too, is glowing with illumination. 
 
 Cecilia. I had long been looking for a congenial spirit ! 
 My heart was withered, but the beams of yours have re- 
 kindled it. 
 
 Matilda. A sudden thought strikes me. Let us swear an 
 eternal friendship. 
 
 Cecilia. Let us agree to live together. 
 
 Matilda. Willingly. ( With rapidity and earnestness.) 
 
 Cecilia. Let us embrace. ( They embrace.) 
 
 Matilda. Yes ; I too have lov'd ! You, too, like me, have 
 been forsaken ! (Doubtingly, and as if with a desire to be in- 
 formed.) 
 
 Cecilia. Too true ! 
 
210 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Both. Ah, these men ! These men ! 
 
 Landlady enters, and places a leg of mutton on the table, with 
 sour krout and pruin sauce ; then a small dish of black pud- 
 dings. Cecilia and Matilda appear to take no notice of her. 
 Matilda. Oh, Casimere ! 
 
 Cecilia. Casimere ! That name ! Oh, my heart how it 
 is distracted with anxiety ! 
 
 Matilda. Heavens ! Madam, you turn pale. 
 Cecilia. Nothing a slight megrim. With your leave, I 
 will retire. 
 
 Matilda. I will attend you. (Exeunt Matilda and Ce- 
 cilia.) 
 
 Casimere arrives soon after, and falls in 
 first with Matilda, and then with Cecilia. 
 Successive eclaircissemens take place, and an 
 arrangement is finally made, by which the two 
 ladies are to live jointly with Casimere. But, 
 tired at last of this " double arrangement," 
 Casimere resolves to attempt Rogero's release, 
 and to make over Matilda to him as the price 
 of his rescue. 
 
 The following humorous song was written 
 by Mr. Canning ; and Liston (the captive 
 Rogero), holding a tattered handkerchief to 
 his eyes, sang it in so ludicrous a manner, that 
 the audience were convulsed with laughter: 
 
 Whene'er with haggard eyes I view 
 This dungeon that I'm rotting in, 
 I think of those companions true 
 Who studied with me at the U 
 niversity of Gottingen 
 niversity of Gottingen. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 211 
 
 Weeps, and pulls out a blue 'kerchief, with which he wipes 
 his eyes ; gazing tenderly at it, he proceeds 
 
 Sweet 'kerchief, check'd with heav'nly blue, 
 
 Which once my love sat knotting in ! 
 Alas ! Matilda then was true ! 
 
 At least I thought so at the U ' 
 niversity of Gottingen 
 niversity of Gottingen. 
 
 (At the repetition of this line Rogero clanks the chains in 
 cadence.) 
 
 Barbs ! barbs ! alas ! how swift you flew, 
 
 Her neat post-waggon trotting in ! 
 Ye bore Matilda from my view. 
 Forlorn I languished at the U 
 niversity of Gottingen 
 niversity of Gottingen. 
 
 This faded form ! this pallid hue ! 
 
 This blood my veins is clotting in. 
 My years are many they were few 
 When first I entered at the U 
 niversity of Gottingen 
 niversity of Gottingen. 
 
 There first for thee my passion grew, 
 Sweet ! sweet Matilda Pottingen ! 
 Thou was't the daughter of my tu * 
 tor, law professor at the U 
 niversity of Gottingen 
 niversity of Gottingen. 
 
 Sun, moon, and thou, vain world, adieu, 
 That kings and priests are plotting in : 
 Here doom'd to starve on water-gru 
 el, never shall I see the U 
 niversity of Gottingen 
 niversity of Gottingen ! 
 
212 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The latter part of this romance was less 
 successful. The force of the satire was not 
 always felt by a mixed audience. That scene 
 in " Pizarro," in which Rolla rescues Alonzo 
 from prison, was ridiculed in a manner too 
 plain to be misunderstood. Casimere (Mun- 
 den) releases Rogero (Liston), by getting into 
 the prison in the disguise of an apothecary, 
 and giving the sentinel (a monk with a fire- 
 lock) two seven shilling pieces. The idea was 
 instantly taken, and loudly applauded. The 
 romance concluded with a grand battle, in 
 which the last scene of " Timour the Tartar" 
 was imitated and burlesqued in the first style 
 of extravagance. Basket horses were seen on 
 the ramparts of a castle, and prancing about 
 in all directions. A battering-ram was intro- 
 duced, as in Timour; and with similar effect. 
 
 " The Quadrupeds of Quedlinburgh " was a 
 very humorous effort, and had a successful 
 run. 
 
 The Haymarket proprietors continued to 
 play " The Road to Ruin," with " A Cure for 
 the Heart Ache," " She Stoops to Conquer," 
 " The School for Scandal," " The Provoked 
 Husband," " Speed the Plough," " The Birth- 
 day," " The Poor Gentleman," &c. ; comedies 
 in which Munden filled a principal part, and 
 others in which Jones excelled. They per- 
 formed also both comedy and tragedy, in order 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 213 
 
 to display the varied talents of Elliston to 
 advantage. Mr. Holman and his daughter 
 were added to the company, and made a suc- 
 cessful debut (22nd August) in " Venice Pre- 
 served f Jaffier, Mr. Holman ; Pierre, Mr. 
 Elliston; Belvidera, Miss Holman. The sea- 
 son was so profitable, that the proprietors pro- 
 cured an extension of their annual license to 
 five months, being one month longer than the 
 original grant ; and, during the extended pe- 
 riod, admitted half price, raising the first price 
 of the boxes to six shillings, without a mur- 
 mur on the part of the public. The Lyceum 
 also opened, with the Drury Lane company, 
 as a winter theatre. On the 23rd Sept. was 
 performed at the Haymarket, a new farce, 
 called " Darkness Visible," by Theodore Hook ; 
 principal characters by Elliston, Jones, Mun- 
 den, and Russell. Oct. 14th, Munden took for 
 his benefit, " A Bold Stroke for a Husband," 
 with the " Agreeable Surprise,*" and " Bom- 
 bastes Furioso." The Haymarket Theatre 
 closed its season on the 15th October. 
 
 In the course of this season, Mr. Munden 
 felt himself called upon to exercise that dis- 
 cretion, with regard to the acceptance of a 
 part, for which he had formerly contended, 
 and declined acting in a piece, written by the 
 manager. It does not appear, by the follow- 
 ing letter, that Mr. Colman, either as a pro- 
 
214 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 prietor of the Haymarket Theatre, or as Mr. 
 Colman, the author of this piece, as well as 
 the comedy of " John Bull," took umbrage at 
 the exercise of such a discretion : 
 
 " 25th Sept. 1811. 
 
 " MY DEAR MUNDEN, 
 
 " I scarcely expected you to accept the part, which the 
 business of the Melodrama would not afford me an opportunity 
 of making better. I should not have offered it to you, but in 
 consequence of the inclination you expressed to give the piece 
 a helping hand. 
 
 " We must do without your powerful aid, which I do not 
 in the least wonder at your withholding, on the present occa- 
 sion. 
 
 " I know you have the interests of the house at heart, and 
 will do all that reason can ask ; to press Baptista upon your 
 acceptance would be very wwreasonable. 
 
 " Most truly yours, 
 
 " G. COLMAK. 
 
 " Joseph Munden, Esq." 
 
 In the case of Morris v. Colman, &c., re- 
 garding the three engagements before referred 
 to, the Lord Chancellor (Lord Eldon) ex- 
 pressed himself in language so extraordinary, 
 and with such total ignorance of the nature of 
 theatrical engagements, that we may be ex- 
 cused for quoting it : 
 
 " Court of Chancery, July 20th. 
 
 The Lord Chancellor observed, "that if 
 the litigation on the east and west side of the 
 Haymarket continued, in justice to the other 
 suitors, a branch of the Court of Chancery 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 215 
 
 ought to be placed in the Hay market." He 
 then took a review of the case, and said, " it 
 was not to be borne that he should be made 
 the manager of opera-houses, theatres, circuses, 
 and puppet-shows. He had not a knowledge 
 of the merit of the different performers ; but, 
 if such salaries were given to them, it was a 
 better profession than the bar. He had once 
 said, that he would not give five shillings to 
 hear Catalani sing all the year round ; and 
 suppose he was to decide, he might think that 
 a singer ought to have five shillings, instead 
 of 6000/. a year ; he would, however, never 
 make use of that expression again, for, from 
 the first time he did, he never dare venture 
 into a place of fashionable amusement. He 
 would not grant either motions (one was for 
 an injunction to prevent Colman and Winston 
 from engaging performers without the consent 
 of the plaintiff; and the counter-motion, for 
 an order to oblige the plaintiff, as treasurer, to 
 pay the performers), they ought to go by their 
 agreement. Mr. Morris ought to be consulted 
 on the engagements, and where he was not, 
 he ought to give notice ta the performers that 
 they were not legally engaged, in which case 
 an action would not lay against him ; but if 
 consulted, and Mr. Colman and the other 
 proprietor agreed, he must acquiesce, and pay 
 the salary of the person so engaged/' 
 
 tt was stated in the course of these proceed- 
 
216 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ings, that Messrs. Munden and Jones were 
 originally engaged for one month at 100?. each. 
 Mr. Colman refused to bring forward his new 
 piece without them and Elliston, and, then, Mr. 
 Morris gave a conditional consent. The act of 
 Parliament for rebuilding Drury Lane having 
 passed, and a committee being appointed, a 
 list of distinguished names was published, com- 
 mencing with that of his Royal Highness the 
 Prince Regent, and the other princes of the 
 blood royal, as patrons, and a subscription 
 was raised to defray the undertaking. Mr. 
 Whitbread, one of the committee, with infinite 
 labour, made terms with the various creditors 
 of the old theatre (whose interests were very 
 complicated, and whose claims now appeared to 
 be 436,971?.), by which they agreed to receive 
 25 per cent in full of all demands. The patent 
 was purchased for a sum stated differently at 
 from 40,000?. to 50,000?., of which Mr. Sheri- 
 dan received a moiety, Mr. Thomas Sheridan 
 one fourth, and Mrs. Richardson one fourth, 
 they (the old proprietors) having no concern 
 with the new theatre. The Duke of Bedford 
 relinquished all claim to his ground rent, which 
 is said to have amounted to 12,000?. In a 
 similar noble spirit, the Duke of Northumber- 
 land, on the day that the first stone of Covent 
 Garden Theatre was laid, sent to Mr. John 
 Kemble his bond for 10,000?., borrowed of his 
 Grace, cancelled, and told him to make a bon- 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 217 
 
 fire of it. These were princely acts. Of three 
 plans submitted to the committee, that of Mr. 
 Benjamin Wyatt was accepted ; and Mr. 
 Rowles being appointed builder, bound him- 
 self under a large penalty to complete the 
 edifice on or before Oct. I, 1812. The trowel 
 and the hammer resounded in Vinegar-yard ; 
 and the Honourable Douglas Kinnaird stated, 
 with reference to the undertaking, at a general 
 meeting of the subscribers, that, " as a banker, 
 he would give his advice to any man in its 
 favour, even as an object of speculation." It 
 is strange that, after the statement of the 
 Covent Garden proprietors, and their published 
 report, such sanguine expectations could have 
 been formed. The shareholders have now the 
 painful experience of their nullity. 
 
 After the close of the Haymarket Theatre, 
 Munden proceeded to fulfil several country en- 
 gagements, principally at Shrewsbury, Ches- 
 ter, and Manchester. At Chester all ranks 
 flocked to his benefit, induced by old recollec- 
 tions and his present celebrity. His great 
 success is alluded to in the following letter 
 from Mr. Colman : 
 
 Dec. 30, 1811. 
 
 4, Melina-place, Westminster Road. 
 
 Many thanks, my dear Munden, for your letter. It gives 
 me a sincere pleasure to hear of your late successes : " So 
 should desert in arms be crown'd !" 
 
 I shall be heartily glad to see you, as you propose, on 
 
 L 
 
218 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Thursday next, at four o'clock ; and I will order the seas and 
 rivers to be thaw'd, during this hard frost, that we may not be 
 disappointed of a bit of fish. I have much to consult you upon. 
 
 Ever truly yours, 
 Joseph Munden, Esq. G. COLMAN. 
 
 Munden did not long remain in town. He 
 proceeded again into the country to reap the 
 golden harvest, which, at this season of the 
 year, he had few rival " stars 11 to share with. 
 He seems to have travelled from place to place 
 with great celerity ; to have laboured hard ; 
 and to have been then intent on acquiring that 
 competency, which rendered him independent 
 of the frowns of managers, and enabled him 
 to retire from the profession when he pleased. 
 Previously to his secession from Covent Gar- 
 den Theatre, it does not appear that he had 
 saved much money ; the frequent orders in his 
 letters, of the present date, for investments in 
 the funds, manifest that he was now rapidly 
 accumulating it ; and an evident tendency to 
 economy appears in all his letters to his wife. 
 The subjoined are extracts from these letters. 
 He played at Newcastle ; next at Rochdale, 
 in Feb. 1812, eight successive nights, " greatly 
 received in public as well as in private ; my 
 benefit greater by ten pounds than ever known 
 134Z. 10s. ;" at Glasgow ; and at Edinburgh 
 in March. From Edinburgh he writes : (29th 
 March) " I have been very unfortunate here 
 in the weather ; from the first moment I came 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 219 
 
 into the place to this hour, nothing- but violent 
 frost and snow ; the roads impassable. This 
 place would have been a great card to me, 
 but the weather, and Mrs. Siddons"* great 
 drain, have much injured the receipts of the 
 theatre. I am a very great favourite, and 
 every box taken for my benefit on Wednesday 
 next. I return for one night to Glasgow to 
 perform for a charity, on Saturday next ; and 
 then for four nights to Greenock. I shall not 
 be in London until the last moment before the 
 Haymarket opens ; as I am out, I '11 get all 
 I can." April 16th, " I arrived here (Lan- 
 caster) on Monday, and shall leave for Preston 
 on Tuesday next. The business here very good 
 for Lancaster. After Preston, I believe I shall 
 either be at Derby, or Worcester, but have 
 not yet settled ; and I perform at Birmingham 
 on the 4th May, shall stay there until the 
 Monday following, and then for home, which 
 I shall be glad of, for I have/#/d very hard" 
 While Munden was in Edinburgh, Mr. 
 James Ballantyne was desirous of making him 
 acquainted with Walter Scott, as he had pre- 
 viously introduced the late Mr. Matthews. 
 Scott's note is subjoined : 
 
 My dear James, 
 
 I am on duty at the Register Office about the hour you 
 mention ; but I will be at home at three o'clock, and happy to 
 see Mr. Munden. 
 
 Yours truly, W. SCOTT. 
 Mr. Ballantyne. 
 
 L 2 
 
220 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The great poet and novelist entertained 
 Munden with his accustomed hospitality. For 
 some time he conversed upon indifferent sub- 
 jects ; but at length referring to the stage, he 
 said, " Mr. Munden, there was one perform- 
 ance of yours which astonished me more than 
 most which I have witnessed." " Indeed," 
 replied his guest, who expected one of those 
 compliments which are paid, as a matter of 
 course, to public men ; " pray, which was that, 
 Mr. Scott?" Munden expected to be com- 
 plimented upon the part of Old Dornton, Sir 
 Robert Bramble or Sir Peter Teazle, upon 
 which the town had showered down its ap- 
 plause ; he was mistaken. " I cannot recollect 
 the name of it," said Scott ; " it was a piece 
 of flimsy materials, and the part was nothing 
 in itself, I think an old general who was 
 blind ; and what struck me was, how you 
 could produce such an effect, debarred the use 
 of the most powerful feature of expression 
 which the art demands." Mr. Munden felt the 
 critical acumen that dictated this remark, and 
 always related the circumstance with pride 
 and pleasure. 
 
 We depart from our subject to record the 
 greatest loss that the stage had sustained for 
 the last half century the retirement of Mrs. 
 Siddons. The particulars of Mrs. Siddons's 
 splendid career may be found in her Life, by 
 Mr. Boaden, and the Memoir, by Mr. Thomas 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 221 
 
 Campbell, who was honoured by her friend- 
 ship, and had access to her private memoranda. 
 This distinguished actress played for the last 
 time, in her professional capacity, on the 29th 
 Jan., 1812 ; though she afterwards performed 
 at intervals for the Drury-Lane and Covent- 
 Garden Funds for Mr. and Mrs. Charles 
 Kemble's benefits, and by command of her 
 Royal Highness the Princess Charlotte. The 
 part she selected to take her leave of the public 
 in was Lady Macbeth; and it is curious to 
 remark how widely her theoretical conception 
 of the character, as described in the Memo- 
 randa published by Mr. Campbell, differed 
 from its practical exemplification. If Lady 
 Macbeth, as Mrs. Siddons conceives, should 
 be " fair, feminine, nay, perhaps, even fragile," 
 the general voice hailed as its greatest repre- 
 sentative one who possessed dark and strongly 
 marked, features, a masculine form, and com- 
 manding action. It is needless to say that 
 Mrs. Siddons was greeted on her departure 
 by every tribute of admiration that, the public 
 or the nation could bestow. The audience 
 would not suffer the play to proceed after she 
 quitted the stage. The King and Queen com- 
 manded Mrs. Siddons to read to them. The 
 bar of England had before presented an ad- 
 dress to her by the hands of Mr. (afterwards 
 Lord) Erskine ; Sir Joshua Reynolds had, 
 with delicate flattery, inscribed his name on 
 
222 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the hem of her garment, as the Tragic Muse ; 
 the masters of eloquence Johnson, Burke, 
 Windham, Fox, Sheridan, and Erskine had 
 listened with deep attention to her unrivalled 
 recitations ; and the Universities of Oxford 
 and Cambridge now solicited her to visit them, 
 that they might hear the English language 
 pronounced in its utmost perfection. Her 
 private accommodation was consulted by the 
 Commissioners of Woods and Forests, who 
 directed that the plan of the Regent's Park 
 should be altered, in order that the view from 
 her residence, in Upper Baker-street, might 
 not be intercepted. Mrs. Siddons concluded 
 her public life by a series of readings from 
 Shakespeare, at the Argyle Rooms ; at which 
 this wonderful woman, then at an advanced 
 age, and wearing spectacles, read from a vo- 
 lume, placed on a desk, in such an impressive 
 manner, as thrilled her hearers with delight. 
 Where she chiefly astonished was in parts 
 usually filled by inferior actors. The late Mr. 
 Knight said that she gave to the little part of 
 Rosse, in " Macbeth," an effect of which he 
 hardly thought it capable ; and Mr. Kean ex- 
 pressed his deep regret that he had not been 
 present. 
 
 Munden opened at the Haymarket (May 15) 
 in " The Birth-Day." On the 18th, he played 
 Hardcastle to Matthews's Tony Lumpkin. 
 May 20th, Mr. Terry, from Edinburgh, made 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 223 
 
 his first appearance in Lord Ogleby. This 
 gentleman was in great habits of intimacy 
 with Sir Walter Scott, to whom bis aptness in 
 sketching designs for Abbotsford, then in pro- 
 gress of erection, had introduced him. Terry* 
 had acquired this talent in his early studies 
 under an architect. As an actor, he was 
 respectable, but not great : he attempted too 
 much. In this season, at the Haymarket, he 
 played the dissimilar characters of Shylock, 
 Job Thornberry, Sir Anthony Absolute, Don 
 Caesar in " A Bold Stroke for a Husband," 
 Barford in " Who Wants a Guinea," &c. Mun- 
 den was unable to attend from illness for 
 nearly a month ; and, during that time, Mat- 
 thews played his parts. July 6th, he again 
 appeared in " The Road to Ruin," and played, 
 successively, Peachum, Sir Luke Tremor 
 ( Such Things Are, ) Perriwinkle, ( Bold 
 Stroke for a Wife, ) Old Mirabel, (The Deaf 
 Lover,) Caustic, (The Way to Get Married,) 
 Sir Marmaduke, ( Doldrum,) Torrent, Bo- 
 nus, Cockletop, and Sir Christopher Curry, 
 (Inkle and Yarico.) He passed the greater 
 part of the next year, with the exception of 
 
 * Mr. Terry wrote the opera of (l Guy Mannering," from 
 Scott's novel ; and Hazlitt's is no slight praise, when he states, 
 and correctly too, that few unacquainted with the novel could 
 detect the difference between the matter introduced by Terry, 
 and the composition of the original author. 
 
224 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 occasional country engagements, in retirement 
 at his pretty villa at Kentish Town. This, 
 the third house he had inhabited in that vil- 
 lage, had been erected from a design by one 
 of the Brothers Adam, who constructed the 
 pile of buildings in the Strand, the Adelphi, 
 so termed from their conjoint efforts. The 
 villa was a very neat elevation, but has been 
 spoiled by its present possessor, who has added 
 another building to it, totally at variance with 
 the original design. Munden having caught 
 that ready infection a fondness for dabbling in 
 bricks and mortar laid out a great deal of mo- 
 ney in building stabling and out-houses, and in 
 decorating and improving the grounds ; wherein 
 he was assisted by his only man-servant, who, 
 like Scrub and Dozey, filled various capacities, 
 being an occasional butler and footman, "a 
 gardener all day, and a watchman all night." 
 He was an eccentric being, and how he got 
 his sleep no one knew ; but in waiting at ta- 
 ble, if he heard anything stated from which 
 he dissented, he would, from his place behind 
 his master's chair, not only contradict him, 
 but his guests also. Munden, who had a 
 fondness for oddities, rather encouraged than 
 repressed this freedom, and winked at his 
 visitors to take no notice. Thus passed the 
 time away, until he joined the Drury-Lane 
 Company. 
 
 The new Drury-Lane Theatre opened, Oct. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 22 
 
 10, 1812, under a sub-committee of manage- 
 ment, with an address, written by Lord Byron, 
 nearly the worst production of his pen ; the 
 committee having previously, in order to en- 
 courage poetical talent, advertised, like con- 
 tractors, for an address, offering a premium 
 for the best. It appears that all were bad, 
 though one of them was sent anonymously 
 b^ Mr. Whitbread, who was seized with the 
 vain ambition of aspiring to poetical honours. 
 The competitors were very wroth, and one of 
 them insisted on reading his address from the 
 boxes. This ludicrous commencement gave 
 rise to the celebrated parody of " The Rejected 
 Addresses." The opening play was " Ham- 
 let" Hamlet, Elliston ; Ghost, Raymond; 
 King, Powell ; Laertes, Wallack ; Horatio, 
 Holland ; Polonius, Dowton ; Osrick, R. Pal- 
 mer ; Grave-diggers, Wewitzer and Peuley ; 
 Queen, Mrs. Brereton ; Ophelia, Miss Kelly : 
 with, "The Devil to Pay" Jobson, Dowton; 
 Nell, Miss Mellon. It will be seen, from the 
 cast of " Hamlet," that Drury-Lane was weak 
 in tragedy, the only eminent tragic performer 
 being Miss Smith (now Mrs. Bartley). 
 
 To make amends, however, it was rich in 
 comedy, possessing Elliston, Dowton, Ban- 
 nister, Emery, Knight, Lovegrove, Wrench, 
 &c. ; and particularly in the female depart- 
 ment, which numbered Miss Duncan, Mrs. 
 Edwin, Miss Kelly, Miss Mellon, Mrs. Glover, 
 
 L 5 
 
226 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Mrs. Orger, Mrs. Sparks, and Mrs. Har- 
 
 lowe. 
 
 The sub -committee added to their tragic 
 list Mr. Rae, a respectable actor, and a Mr. 
 Sowerby, who was not successful. They also 
 brought from the shelf, " Remorse/' a tragedy 
 by Coleridge, which had been rejected by She- 
 ridan, with a parody on one line 
 
 " Drip, drip, a ceaseless sound of water-drops," 
 
 which Sheridan rendered by 
 
 " Drip, drip it is nothing but dripping" 
 
 " Remorse" had some poetical passages, but 
 was written in an inflated style, and had few 
 dramatic capabilities. The committee, plac- 
 ing their strength in comedy, resolved to en- 
 gage Munden. 
 
 Previously to joining the Drury-Lane Com- 
 pany, Munden invited some of his future asso- 
 ciates to dine with him at his residence at 
 Kentish Town. His guests were Mr. Dow- 
 ton, Mr. Bannister, Mr. Lovegrove, and Mr. 
 Knight. Before the ladies quitted the table, 
 the host whispered to Bannister, " Jack, I 
 wish you would play off some of your tricks 
 to please the women." Mr. Bannister, with 
 great good humour, complied. He imitated 
 animate and inanimate objects ; amongst the 
 rest, water falling from a height in various 
 gradations, until it fell " like a pebble in 
 Carisbrook Well." He then took higher 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 227 
 
 ground. He supposed a father on his death- 
 bed, about to alter his will, to disinherit a 
 disobedient son. He wrapped a napkin 
 round his head and underneath his chin 
 assumed the ghastly stare, the glazed eye, 
 the pallid countenance, and the clammy lips 
 of fast-approaching dissolution. Those who 
 recollect Mrs. Siddons in the last scene of 
 Queen Catherine, hardly beheld a truer de- 
 lineation. The dying man is raised on his 
 supposititious bed grasps the pen with forced 
 determination signs the will and falls lifeless 
 on his pillow. The company broke into a 
 burst of admiration, but on one present it had 
 a serious effect. Mr. Lovegrove had been 
 married to Miss Weippert, daughter of the 
 celebrated harp player. A short time previous 
 to this meeting, Mrs. Lovegrove died of the 
 effects of a cold, brought on by the prevailing 
 fashion of thin clothing. Mr. Lovegrove, 
 who was tenderly attached to his wife, was so 
 affected by the truth of Bannister's personifi- 
 cation, which brought to his recollection his 
 recent bereavement, that he fainted ; and the 
 imitations were brought to an abrupt con- 
 clusion. 
 
228 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Munden's first appearance at Drury Lane : his successive per- 
 formances Dearth of Tragic genius Mr. Kean engaged at 
 Drury Lane : his debut in Shylock Hesitation of the critics 
 His triumphant success in Richard Comedy for a while 
 unfashionable Sub-committee of Drury Lane Theatre Lord 
 Byron, &c. The three active members, Mr. Lambe, Mr. 
 Kinnaird, and Mr. Peter Moore Finnerty's epigram on the 
 latter gentleman Munden and Mrs. Garrick Mrs. Jordan 
 quits the stage : her misfortunes Miss O'Neil engaged at 
 Co vent Garden : installed as the successor of Mrs. Siddons 
 " Town and Country" played at Drury Lane with great 
 effect Dibdin's " Past Ten o'Clock" Munden's last great 
 part of Dozey Retirement of Mr. Bannister : remarks on 
 his excellence Criticism of Mr. Leigh Hunt on Munden's 
 acting "The Magpie" "The Merchant of Bruges" 
 Anecdotes of Lord Byron and Sheridan. 
 
 THE Times newspaper (Oct. 5, 1813) thus 
 records Munden's first appearance on the 
 boards of Drury : " This theatre has ensured 
 to itself a powerful attraction in recalling to 
 the stage the rich and well-defined humour of 
 Munden. He was received last night with 
 that distinguished applause which a man, so 
 deservedly a favourite, might reasonably ex- 
 pect from a public seldom capricious in its 
 amusements; and he played his old part of 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 229 
 
 Sir Abel Handy with undiminished effect.''' 
 The other characters were filled by Pope, as 
 Sir Philip Blandford ; De Camp, Bob Handy 
 (Wrench played this part on the next perform- x 
 ance of the comedy) ; Dowton, Farmer Ash- 
 field ; Rae, Henry ; Mrs. Edwin, Miss Bland- 
 ford ; Mrs. Sparks, Dame Ashfield. Mun- 
 den's favourite plays were got up in succes- 
 sion. Oct. 6, " A Cure for the Heartache." 
 19th, " Way to Get Married." 21st, " School 
 for Authors." 25th, "Bold Stroke for a 
 Wife" Bannister, Colonel Feignwell ; Mtiu- 
 den, Perriwinkle. 28th, "Duenna" Isaac, 
 Dowton ; Don Jerome, Munden : and " The 
 Citizen" Old Philpot, Munden ; Young Phil- 
 pot, Bannister. 30th, a new comedy, by Mr. 
 Horace Smith, entitled " First Impressions," in 
 which Munden played Sir Thomas Trapwell. 
 This piece had not a long run, but the Morn- 
 ing Post says " Munden, Elliston, Mrs. Glo- 
 ver, and Mrs. Edwin, were unusually success- 
 ful." Nov. 5, "Modern Antiques" -Cockle- 
 top, Munden ; Joey, Knight. 10th, " Turn- 
 pike Gate." 15th, "Two Strings to Your 
 Bow." 22nd, a new musical farce, by T. Dib- 
 din, called " Is He Alive : " principal charac- 
 ters by Munden, Knight, and Wrench. 
 
 In this month Mr. Conway (it was, we be- 
 lieve, an adopted name) appeared at Covent- 
 Garden, as Alexander the Great. The selec- 
 tion of the part was a judicious one ; and, if 
 
230 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ever man possessed the requisites of form and 
 face to fill it, Conway did. He had long- en- 
 joyed a great provincial reputation. Mr. 
 Austin, who saw him play at Chester, said it 
 was the best first appearance he had ever seen 
 in his life. But, with a stature beyond the 
 ordinary height, fine form, expressive features, 
 and a voice powerful and not unpleasing, Con- 
 way marred all by affectation. He trod the 
 stage as if he were walking on stilts, and 
 raised and lowered his voice in an abrupt and 
 disagreeable manner. When he entered on the 
 scene in triumph, as Alexander, the coup d'oeil 
 was magnificent. " Pity," said somebody, 
 " that the thing was made to speak." He 
 played some parts, however, Jaffier, espe- 
 cially, far above the ordinary level ; but the 
 town took a dislike to him ; the newspapers 
 were severe ; he had only the ladies in his 
 favour. Conway at last lost his engagement 
 at Covent-Garden ; and, as he was too tall to 
 play second to the new prodigy at Drury-Lane, 
 necessity drove him to accept the humble si- 
 tuation of prompter, at the Haymarket. True 
 it was, that Pope, who had played Othello and 
 Lord Townley against John Kemble, and Dib- 
 din, who had been a manager, did the same. 
 Poor Conway ! he attributed all his failure to 
 the critics. " I know," said he, " I am not a 
 great actor, but I cannot be so bad as they 
 represent." Disappointment preyed upon his 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 231 
 
 spirits, and his mind took a serious turn. He 
 embarked for America ; but during the voyage, 
 in a momentary aberration of reason, leaped 
 overboard, and was drowned. Another ac- 
 count, we hope the true one, says he played in 
 America, and died there. 
 
 A spectator, at this time, marvelling at this 
 constant failure of every fresh attempt to pos- 
 sess the tragic chair, might well have said 
 
 *' Lo ! the dull stars roll round and reappear ! " 
 
 But two great luminaries were on the verge 
 of the dramatic horizon. The first that burst 
 upon the public sight was Edmund Kean ! Mr. 
 Kean (announced in the bills, " From the Exe- 
 ter Theatre") made his appearance at Drury- 
 Lane, as Shylock, Jan. 26, 1814. He was 
 very favourably received by the public ; but 
 the critics seemed to pause before they ven- 
 tured upon a decided opinion on his acting. 
 The Morning Post spoke of him handsomely, 
 but not enthusiastically. The writer in the 
 Times candidly avowed that the many previous 
 unsuccessful first appearances had rendered 
 them at first sceptical as to the success of the 
 new actor. It was not until he played Richard 
 that the general voice pronounced him a phe- 
 nomenon. Feb. 1, Mr. Kean repeated the 
 character of Shylock. On this night the 
 writer sat in the dress circle, near the stage, 
 next to the late Mr. Perry, proprietor of the 
 
232 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Morning Chronicle, and an excellent judge of 
 dramatic performances. Mr. Perry quickly 
 discerned Kean's original talent, applauded 
 vehemently, and penned himself some strong 
 articles in his favour. Munden, when his son 
 reached Kentish Town, after the performance, 
 inquired what he thought of the new actor 
 (he had not himself seen him), and heard, with 
 a smile, that Mr. Kean would be the founder 
 of a new school of tragic acting. " When you 
 have seen as many stars rise and set as I have," 
 said the practised comedian, " you will not so 
 hastily pronounce an opinion." Nothing con- 
 vinced, with the obstinacy of youth the son 
 worshipped at the new shrine. 
 
 On another night of Kean's performance, 
 he was in the manager's (Raymond) box, with 
 Mr. Pope, Mr. Kelly, and Mrs. Billington. 
 After the play, Pope retired, but returned in 
 a few minutes, with a slight young man, at- 
 tired in a great coat lined and cuffed with fur. 
 He stepped carelessly into the box, and Pope 
 introduced him to Mrs. Billington as Mr. 
 Kean. Mrs. Billington paid him many com- 
 pliments " in good set phrase," and the youth, 
 at the back of the box, strained his eyes to 
 observe the object of his idolatry. Mr. 
 Kean's admirer attended at the pit door from 
 half-past four o'clock to six, wedged in by the 
 multitude that filled Vinegar Yard on every 
 fresh performance, and almost suffocated by 
 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 233 
 
 heat. With the preconceived notion that Mr. 
 Kean's figure was unsuited for Othello, he 
 stayed away from the theatre the first night 
 that Kean performed the character, forgetting 
 that 
 
 " Before true merit all objections fly, 
 
 Pritchard 's genteel, and Garrick 's six feet high." 
 
 But he attended the performance of lago, 
 and was equally occupied in observing the 
 " smiling devil" in Kean's eye, and in watch- 
 ing the observant, and ever changing counte- 
 nance of the author of Childe Harolde, who 
 sat in the orchestra before him. All criti- 
 cism on Kean's performances is superfluous 
 here, as the reader will find them ably de- 
 scribed in the pages of his accomplished bio- 
 grapher, Barry Cornwall. Munden, at a 
 subsequent period, paid a willing tribute to 
 Kean's extraordinary excellence. 
 
 Happy was it for the proprietors of Drury 
 Lane that this God's send fell in their way ; 
 for, notwithstanding the abundance of comic 
 talent which Drury Lane possessed, the sea- 
 son had hitherto been an unprofitable one, as 
 Mr. Whitbread stated at their next annual 
 meeting, remarking : " It is to him (Mr. 
 Kean) that, after 139 nights of continued loss 
 and disappointment, the subscribers are in- 
 debted for the success of the season." 
 
 Yet, a few nights after Mr. Kean's first 
 appearance, we find " Wild Oats" played with 
 
234 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 such a cast as the following* ; better, perhaps, 
 than when it was originally represented. Ro- 
 ver, Elliston ; Sir George Thunder, Dowton ; 
 Harry Thunder, Wallack ; Ephraini Smooth, 
 Munden; John Dory, Bannister; Sim, Knight ; 
 Lady Amaranth, Mrs. Glover ; Jane, Mrs. 
 Orger. It is useless to speculate on the causes 
 which induced the public to abstain from fre- 
 quenting a theatre which contained such talent. 
 Something may be attributed to the want of 
 novelty ; but the main spring of all the ill-suc- 
 cess will be found in the extracts from the 
 speech of Mr. Warren (counsel for the peti- 
 tioners for a third theatre) which we have here- 
 tofore quoted. The new theatre which Mr. 
 Kinnaird " as a banker, " had so recently re- 
 commended as a safe investment, would, but for 
 the discovery of Mr. Kean by Doctor Drury, 
 have closed its doors before the conclusion of 
 the season. 
 
 The surprising success of Mr. Kean ren- 
 dered the green-room of Drury Lane a fashion- 
 able place of resort. Among the frequent 
 visitors were the Earl of Essex, Lord Byron, 
 Lord Holland, Lord Kinnaird, the Hon. 
 Douglas Kinnaird, the Hon. George Lambe, 
 Mr. Peter Moore, Mr. Calcraft, Monk Lewis, 
 &c. The room was usually thronged, and the 
 spectacle was rendered more attractive by the 
 performers in character, who, as they de- 
 scended from their dressing rooms, advanced 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 235 
 
 towards the long pier-glass at the end, ex- 
 amining the effect of their costume, making a 
 grotesque or frowning face, and muttering 
 some particular phrase, in which they judged 
 a point could be made. During the perform- 
 ance, Lord Byron sat in his box, (the lower 
 one on the stage, at the right hand) and raising 
 the blind, drank his Madeira and cracked his 
 walnuts. He interfered little in the concerns 
 of the theatre, leaving the management to Mr. 
 Lambe, Mr. Kinnaird and Mr. Peter Moore, 
 who were very active, and did as much harm 
 as amateur managers generally do. Mr. Kin- 
 naird introduced upon the stage, as a singer, 
 a lady, who resided under his protection, and 
 who had been known in another part of the 
 theatre, where she was termed from her wad- 
 dling gait the duck. Tom Dibdin, their 
 stage manager, perpetrated a pun, upon this, 
 in the enquiry: "What is a duck? un can- 
 ard!" It should be observed that Mr. Kean 
 was not fond of mixing in this noble assem- 
 blage. He disliked their criticisms, and still 
 more their flattery ; and after playing a new 
 part, when he dreaded the infliction of both, 
 he would wrap his great coat around him, and 
 rapidly make his escape from the house, leav- 
 ing them disappointed of his presence to listen 
 to their congratulations. 
 
 The three active members of the committee 
 duly attended at the rehearsals. Mr. George 
 
236 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Lambe, a polite gentleman, arranged with the 
 sub-managers the general business of the the- 
 atre : Mr. Kinnaird ransacked the works of 
 the old dramatists for revivals ; and Mr. Peter 
 Moore amused himself with tyrannizing over 
 the underlings. His name provoked a pun. 
 One individual, who had probably suffered 
 under his lash, alluding to the arbitrary dispo- 
 sition of the great Czar, wished he "could 
 give to Saint Petersburg one Peter More ,-" 
 and Peter Finnerty, the well-known reporter 
 to the Morning Chronicle, upon some capri- 
 cious suspension of the free list, extemporized 
 the following epigram. 
 
 What ! said Dick, with some surprise, 
 Have they sent Peter from the door ? 
 
 From Drury's scenes, if they were wise, 
 They 'd send one Peter More ! 
 
 Peter Moore, who had shewn much subser- 
 viency to Mr. Sheridan's interests, in getting 
 the bill for rebuilding Drury Lane passed 
 through the House of Commons, resolved to 
 attach himself to him in death, and raised a 
 monument which might serve for both of them, 
 the inscription running something in this way: 
 
 To the memory 
 
 of 
 
 The Right Honourable Richard Brinsley Sheridan, 
 This monument is erected 
 
 by 
 
 His attached friend, 
 Peter Moore. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 237 
 
 Our actor was on very good terms with the 
 sub-committee, particularly with Lord Byron, 
 Mr. Lambe and Mr. Calcraft. One day meet- 
 ing the latter gentleman in the Strand, they 
 stopped to converse upon the affairs of the 
 theatre, and, to avoid the crowd, turned down 
 Adam Street to the Adelphi Terrace. A door 
 was opened and an old lady came out. Mr. 
 Calcraft, as she approached, enquired of Mun- 
 den : " Do you know who that is ?" Munden 
 replied in the negative, and the Member of 
 Parliament, taking off his hat, said : " Mrs. 
 Garrick, permit me to introduce to you Mr. 
 Munden. " Mrs. Garrick, with great ani- 
 mation, held out both her hands, and grasping 
 the actor's, said : " I am most happy at this 
 introduction. I have seen you often in ano- 
 ther place, and wished to be known to you." 
 Though very aged, she was lively and active, 
 and prided herself on her finely turned ankle, 
 which had been so much admired when she 
 was Madlle. Violette. 
 
 Munden took for his benefit " The School 
 for Wives " and " The Farmer. " He did not 
 latterly play Jemmy Jumps, in which he had 
 acquired so much reputation, as his figure had 
 become unsuitable for the part. Mr. Kean 
 had for his benefit "Riches;" (Sir J. Bland 
 Burgess's alteration from Massinger) and per- 
 formed Luke in a very different style from 
 Raymond, (the first representative of the part) 
 
238 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 who, though a sensible and well-informed man, 
 was a moderate actor. With other benefits, in 
 which our comedian played Tipple (Flitch of 
 Bacon), Nipperkin, and Brummagem, the 
 Drury Lane season was brought to a close. 
 
 We have recently recorded the departure 
 of the Tragic Muse, and have now to relate the 
 disappearance of the Muse of Comedy. Mrs. 
 Jordan did not play on any stage after the ter- 
 mination of the Covent Garden season 1813-14. 
 She had become so involved, as to render it 
 necessary to retire to the continent. Although 
 in the receipt for years of a large income, she 
 had a numerous family to provide for, and was 
 a most kind mother. Her real name was 
 Bland, and she had never been married. Her 
 embarrassments at this juncture were occa- 
 sioned by becoming security for a person, who 
 espoused one of the daughters she had borne 
 previously to her connection with the Duke 
 of Clarence. She resided, under an assumed 
 name, at Saint Cloud, near Paris, where she 
 died July 3, 1816 : her death was attended by 
 some distressing circumstances. With all 
 Mrs. Jordan's faults, she was a warm-hearted, 
 charitable woman. As an actress she had no 
 equal, since the time of Mrs. Clive, in her 
 particular line ; but she was fond of stepping 
 out of her line, and then she was not great. 
 She played the Country Girl, when an old 
 woman, and such was the fascination of her 
 manner, that the spectators were content to 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 239 
 
 believe that she was what she represented. 
 She was not handsome (her picture by Rom- 
 ney is a flattering resemblance), but her speak- 
 ing- voice was one of the most melodious ever 
 heard ; and she sang pleasingly. She lived 
 famous and died in obscurity ! 
 
 The next season at Drury Lane commenced 
 on the 20th September (1814) with " The Ri- 
 vals." October 1, " The School for Scandal." 
 Sir Peter Teazle, Mr. Wroughton ; Sir Oliver 
 Surface, Mr. Dowton : the latter was a very fine 
 performance. Mr. Wroughton had been a con- 
 temporary of Garrick, and had played with 
 the older actors with credit and success. Al- 
 though he possessed few natural advantages, 
 he had great judgment, and was a sound, sen- 
 sible actor : but, as he could scarcely be called 
 a comedian, the part of Sir Peter would ne- 
 cessarily have fallen to Munden, had not Mr. 
 Wroughton played it at Drury Lane for many 
 years, and remained therefore in possession. 
 This gentleman's powers were at the present 
 period on the wane ; and he ceased to act after 
 the close of the season. 25th, Miss Walstein, 
 from Dublin, appeared as Calista in the " Fair 
 Penitent." Miss Walstein had long filled the 
 principal characters in tragedy at the Dublin 
 Theatre, where she was a great favourite ; un- 
 til, happening to be seized with sudden indis- 
 position, Miss O'Neil played her part, and dis- 
 played such talent that she took a firm hold of 
 the Dublin audience. Munden had performed 
 
240 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Sir Peter Teazle to Miss CTNeil's Lady Teazle 
 in Ireland, and spoke everywhere of her act- 
 ing in strong terms of praise ; but the Ama- 
 teur management engaged Miss Walstein, 
 leaving Miss O'Neil a prize to the rival 
 house. Miss Walstein played Letitia Han- 
 dy, Lady Teazle, Lady Restless (All in the 
 Wrong Wroughton played Sir John Restless 
 very well), Rosalind, and Lady Townley ; but 
 she was not successful in London, and the 
 committee did not re-engage her. On the 
 contrary, Miss O'Neil, so lately her inferior 
 in rank as an actress, on the other side of the 
 Irish Channel, took possession at once of the 
 chair left vacant by Mrs. Siddons, and divided 
 the town with the other great luminary Kean. 
 It should seem as if fortune, to compensate for 
 a long dearth of excellence in tragedy, had 
 formed, at once, two new moulds of Garrick 
 and Siddons. Miss O'Neil, though not Mrs. 
 Siddons's equal, was the nearest approach to 
 her we have seen. In Mrs. Haller, she was, 
 perhaps, superior ; for whilst she possessed the 
 highest qualities of acting, her youth and 
 figure corresponded more with the conception 
 of the part. Her description of watching the 
 sports of the children was delivered in the 
 tones of tenderness and truth. October 17, 
 Munden played Captain Bertram to Bannis- 
 ter's Jack Junk. February 1, " Town and 
 Country" was performed at Drury Lane. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 241 
 
 Reuben Glenroy, Kean ; Plastic, Wallack ; 
 Trot, Munden ; Cosey, Dowton ; Capt. Glen- 
 roy, Rae ; Hawbuck, Knight ; Hon. Mrs. 
 Glenroy, Mrs. Glover ; Rosalie Somers, Mrs. 
 Horn. It is impossible to imagine a play 
 better acted. Kean was powerfully effective 
 in Reuben Glenroy. The noble critics in the 
 green room were prepared to find fault with his 
 dress, a suit of black with Hessian boots, 
 but he slipped by the door of the green room, 
 and did not wait to hear their opinions. Plas- 
 tic was played with great spirit and judgment 
 by Wallack. Mrs. Glover was, as she always 
 is, animated and correct in Mrs. Glenroy ; and 
 Mrs. Horn looked a very interesting and lovely 
 Rosalie Somers, and spoke the dialogue in 
 a style of great simplicity. The Town and 
 Country friends, Cosey and Trot, did all that 
 the author would let them do. Hawbuck was 
 written for Emery, and, as the name implies, 
 intended for a heavy, stupid-looking, ungainly 
 lad> with his head so crammed with Greek and 
 Latin as to be fit for nothing. Knight's lively 
 and bustling action was hardly what the au- 
 thor meant ; but he made amends by his irre- 
 sistible drollery, particularly in the scene 
 where he drops the tray. Dowton was very 
 great in that part of Cosey where Rosalie's 
 absence is discovered ; and the whole grouping 
 of the scene, with the serious attitude of the 
 actors, formed a fine picture. 16th, Munden 
 
242 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 played the third witch in Macbeth ; and March 
 llth, Dozey, in a new farce by T. Dibdin, 
 called " Past ten o'clock and a rainy night." 
 As this was the last original part, on which he 
 conferred celebrity by his acting, for there 
 was little in the part itself, which, in the hands 
 of an ordinary actor, would have been insig- 
 nificant, some account of the piece is sub- 
 joined. The characters are Dozey, (an old 
 sailor a Greenwich pensioner) Munden ; Sam 
 Squib, (an old soldier a Chelsea pensioner) Ban- 
 nister, ; Bantam, (servant to young Punctual) 
 Knight ; Old Snaps, (guardian to Lucy and 
 Nancy) Penley ; Harry Punctual, (in love with 
 Nancy) Wallack ; Charles Wildfire, (in love 
 with Lucy) Barnard ; Young Snaps, Fisher ; 
 Sir Peter Punctual, Gattie ; Lucy, (in love with 
 Wildfire) Mrs. Edwin ; Nancy (in love with 
 young Punctual) Mrs. Orger ; Silence Mrs. 
 Harlowe. Dozey and Squib are in the ser- 
 vice of Old Snaps. He particularly orders 
 them not to admit any person into the house 
 except his own son and Sir Peter. Wildfire 
 pretends that he is pursued by a bailiff. Squib, 
 who had served under Wildfire's father, lets 
 him into the house to avoid the bailiff. He 
 also lets in young Punctual, who pretends to 
 be Sir Peter. Old Snaps comes home, Nan- 
 cy and Lucy make their escape in the great 
 coats of Sir Peter and Dozey. The gentlemen 
 get out by a balcony, and a reconciliation is 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 243 
 
 effected . It will be seen that these were slen- 
 der materials to work upon; but Munden took 
 as much pains with his part, as if he were a 
 young- actor struggling for fame. He dressed 
 and painted the old Greenwich pensioner to 
 the life, (he painted his neck which was bare) 
 and laboured to produce a perfect personifica- 
 tion. His chief point in the dialogue was the 
 description of a naval engagement, in which 
 he was wonderfully energetic, and was cheered 
 by loud bursts of applause from the audience. 
 Knight was very clever in Bantam, and played 
 up to Munden in the scene just noticed. Ban- 
 nister had an indifferent part, and, after a night 
 or two, he relinquished it. April 22, was 
 produced a new tragedy, by Mrs. Wilmot, en- 
 titled " Ina," which was damned. Mr. Kean 
 played Egbert, and had to endure the novelty 
 of a storm of hisses, not directed against his 
 acting, but against the piece. He delivered 
 the following passage, with his finger pointed 
 to the skies, in a very animated manner. 
 
 The element of water moistens earth, 
 
 But blood flies upwards, and bedews the Heavens ! 
 
 May 22, Munden played Jabal to Elliston's 
 Sheva, for the benefit of the latter. 31st, he 
 chose for his own benefit, the " Road to 
 Ruin " in which a Mr. Gordon, from Liver- 
 pool, played Goldfinch with some success. 
 The other characters were, Harry Dornton 
 
 M 2 
 
2'44 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Elliston ; Silky, Dowton ; Sulky, R. Palmer ; 
 Widow Warren, Mrs. Sparks ; Sophia, Miss 
 Kelly. This was a strong- cast. That excel- 
 lent actress, Miss Kelly, played Sophia, with 
 great archness and humour. The after-piece 
 was a new musical farce called " Honesty's 
 the best Policy." It opened with a duet be- 
 tween Miss Kelly and Miss L. Kelly, com- 
 mencing with " Bright descends yon orb of 
 day/' and the clumsy scene shifters put the 
 moon in the distance. 
 
 June 1st, Mr. John Bannister took his 
 leave of the stage, making his last appearance 
 in the Comedy of " The World/' and the 
 after-piece of " The Children of the Wood/" 
 and addressing the audience on his retire- 
 ment, attended by the principal actors on the 
 stage. His reception was in the highest de- 
 gree flattering, and his farewell impressive. 
 The powers of mimicry, which Mr. Bannister 
 possessed in such an eminent degree, were of 
 great service to him in such parts as Colonel 
 Feignwell, and the Three Singles ; but the 
 main feature of his acting was what the 
 French term bonhommie, which carried the 
 auditor's feelings with him. This quality 
 formed the charm of his performance of Wal- 
 ter in " The Children of the Wood." Unques- 
 tionably, the highest quality in an actor is the 
 ars celare artem ; but with Bannister, in pathe- 
 tic parts, all seemed to come from the heart. 
 It was the same with him in private life. He 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 245 
 
 spoke what he thought, and of those who me- 
 rited commendation with the most kindly feel- 
 ings, with harshness, of nobody. He was 
 wholly free from envy that " vaccine virus" 
 of actors. He dwelt, with the enthusiasm of 
 a devoted frequenter of the theatres, on the 
 perfections of his contemporaries ; of nobody's 
 abilities did he speak higher than of Mun- 
 den's. The writer, in walking up and down 
 Gower Street with Mr. Bannister, took the 
 liberty of consulting with him on the form of 
 a short address, which he was requested by 
 his father to put together on the occasion of 
 the tatter's retirement from the stage, and was 
 listened to with the most polite attention, and 
 earnest wish to be of service. Garrick had 
 great expectations of Bannisters's success m 
 tragedy ; but he wisely relinquished that line 
 as he grew older, and trusted to comedy. He 
 had few equals in the parts he played ; for be- 
 sides his powers of pathos, he possessed a vein 
 of genuine humour. As a private gentleman, 
 Mr. Bannister was an honour to the stage. He 
 was respected in every circle, and loved by 
 those who knew him. He lived very happily 
 in his retirement, and died at a good old 
 age. 
 
 June 8th. Our actor played Mainmast. 9th, 
 Polonius, to Kean's Hamlet ; first Grave-dig- 
 ger, Dowton. July 5th, Davy, in " Bon Ton," 
 for Spring's benefit. 6th, The theatre was 
 closed in consequence of Mr. Whitbread's 
 
246 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 death ; a proper tribute of respect to one 
 who had taken so active a part in its con- 
 cerns ; and whose untimely end is supposed to 
 have been hastened by the labour which he 
 had bestowed in arranging its affairs, and the 
 vexation he experienced at its unsuccessful 
 commencement, llth, Munden played King 
 Arthur ; 12th, Crack. 
 
 Miss Mellon quitted the stage at the close 
 of this season ; the last part she played was 
 Audrey. This lady, though not a first-rate 
 actress, was arch and lively. She played Mrs. 
 Candour very well. After, being supposed to 
 gain a prize in the lottery, the real prize was 
 discovered to be the hand of Mr. Coutts, and 
 his enormous fortune, to which the Duke of 
 St. Albans, subsequently, added a coronet. 
 
 The " Sketches of the Performers," by Mr. 
 Leigh Hunt, appeared at this time in the 
 " Examiner 1 ' newspaper, and obtained a great 
 reputation. Mr. Hunt thus characterizes the 
 acting of Munden : 
 
 " One of the most amusing comedians living, if not the most 
 amusing of all in certain characters, after Liston, is Mr. Mun- 
 den. He is not so great a one, perhaps, as the lovers of broad 
 farce may think him; but, on the other hand, he is much 
 greater than the indiscriminating objectors to grimace may 
 allow. Certainly, the work he makes with his face is equally 
 alarming as well as droll ; he has a sort of complicated grin, 
 which may be thus described : he begins by throwing aside 
 his mouth at the corner with as little remorse as a boy putting 
 it down with his fingers ; then he jerks up his eye-brows ; 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 247 
 
 then he brings his mouth a little back again with a show of 
 his teeth ; then he pulls down the upper lip over the top row, 
 as a knight might his vizor ; and finally consummates the 
 joke with a general stir round and grind of the whole lower 
 part of the face. This, accompanied with some dry phrase, or 
 sometimes with a single word, the spectators always find irre- 
 sistible, and the roar springs forth accordingly. But he is a 
 genuine comedian, nevertheless ; with a considerable insight 
 into character as well as surface, and with a great power of 
 filling up the paltriest sketches. We have known him enter- 
 tain the audience with a real, as well as sophisticated humour, 
 for five or six minutes together, scarcely speaking a word the 
 whole time, as in the part of the sailor in the l English Fleet ;' 
 and in one, we think, in an afterpiece called the ' Turnpike Gate,' 
 where he comes in and hovers about a pot of ale which he sees 
 standing on a table, looking about him with ludicrous caution 
 as he makes his advances, half afraid and half simpering, 
 when he has got near it ; and then, after circumventing it with 
 his eyes, and feeling, over and over again, with some more 
 caution, looks into it in the most ludicrous manner imaginable, 
 and exclaiming in an under voice of affected indifference and 
 real chuckling : " Some gentleman has left his ale." Mr. 
 Munden is remarkable for dressing, as well as acting old age ; 
 and is equally good in the two extremes of generous old men, 
 and mercenary ; the warm-hearted admiral, and the close fisted 
 city hunks. His cordiality would be still better, if his propen- 
 sity to grimace did not interfere, a propensity always dan- 
 gerous from the success it has." 
 
 Drury Laue season 1815 16, Sept. 9th, 
 "John BulL" 12th, "The Mag-pie, or, the 
 Maid of Palaiseau," an adaptation from the 
 French, by T. Dibdin ; the subject was so 
 popular, that two other versions appeared. 
 This piece owed its success to the powerful 
 
248 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 acting of Miss Kelly. It was performed 
 thirty-nine times. Mtmden was induced to 
 play a very indifferent part (the Bailli) to 
 add strength to the cast. 14th, he played 
 Don Jerome, in the " Duenna." 16th, that 
 very amusing' actor, Mr. Harley, made his 
 first appearance at this theatre in Lissar- 
 do ; and on the 26th, Mrs. Mardyn, from 
 Dublin, came out in Amelia, in " Lover's 
 Vows ;" she acted with great spirit, and her 
 beauty was an additional attraction ; Munden 
 played Verdun. 28th, " The Beggar's Opera ;" 
 Macheath, Mr. T. Cooke ; Peachum, Munden ; 
 Lockit, Dowton ; Filch, Knight ; Polly, Mrs. 
 Dickons ; Lucy, Miss Kelly ; Mrs. Peachum, 
 Mrs. Sparks. Oct. 19th, Skirmish, in the 
 " Deserter," Munden. Nov. 3rd, " The Birth- 
 day;" Capt. Bertram, Munden; Jack Junk, 
 Dowton. 15th, a new farce, by Poole, called, 
 " Who's Who ? or, the Double Imposture ;" 
 Sam Dabbs, an apothecary's man, Munden^ 
 This was a comic extravaganza, and told well. 
 Dec. 14th, was performed " The Merchant of 
 Bruges," an alteration from Beaumont and 
 Fletcher, by the Hon. Douglas Kinnaird ; prin- 
 cipal characters: Goswin, or Florez, Kean; 
 Clause, or Gerrard, Holland; Hubert, Rae; 
 Vandunck, Munden ; Wolfort, S. Penley ; 
 Heinskirke, Raymond; Beggars: Higgin, 
 Oxberry; Prigg, Harley; Gertrude, or Ber- 
 tha, Mrs. Horn ; Jaculin, Miss L. Kelly. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 249 
 
 Kean played an indifferent part with great 
 effect. In the scene with Goswin and Ger- 
 trude, when he exclaimed, pointing to Mrs. 
 Horn, who performed Gertrude, " Is she not 
 beautiful?" the audience acknowledged the 
 justness of the allusion by a round of ap- 
 plause. After the play, the writer, in con- 
 versation in the green-room with Lord Byron, 
 was asked how he liked the alteration, which 
 his Lordship said, had cost Mr. Kinnaird a 
 great deal of trouble. He remarked, "that 
 it was trouble ill-bestowed, as there were 
 many other old plays (of Massinger, espe- 
 cially,) which might be revived with greater 
 advantage." " What plays ?" said his Lord- 
 ship. " The Duke of Milan " was mentioned.. 
 " I never read < The Duke of Milan/" was the 
 unexpected reply.* " The Duke of Milan" 
 
 * It was a startling declaration of Lord Byron's, that, if 
 by some great convulsion of nature English should become a 
 dead language, " an Englishman, anxious that the posterity of 
 strangers should know that there had been such a thing as a 
 British epic and tragedy, might wish for the preservation of 
 Shakespeare and Milton ; but the surviving world would snatch 
 Pope from the wreck, and let the rest sink with the people." 
 Sheridan, also, was supposed not to hold the earlier dramatists 
 in great reverence. From the time when his connection with 
 Drury Lane was dissolved, he had never entered the theatre. 
 One night he was prevailed upon by Lord Essex to sit with 
 his Lordship in his box to witness the performance of Kean 
 in Sir Giles Overreach. At the conclusion of the play, Lord 
 Essex begged of him to go into the green-room. The actors 
 
 M 5 
 
250 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 was, however, revived, altered by Tom Dibdin 
 and somebody else ; and the catastrophe, which 
 is forced and unnatural in the original, was 
 not much mended in the adaptation. Though 
 Kean played Sforza very finely, he was badly 
 supported, and the piece had not a run. Mun- 
 den performed, successively, Marrall, Fore- 
 sight, Costar Pearmain, Sir Robert Bramble, 
 for his own benefit ; and Brainworm, for Mr. 
 Kean's. On the last night of the season he 
 performed (by particular desire, and for that 
 night only Russet was his part) Sir Harry 
 Beagle, in " the Jealous Wife." 
 
 flocked around the modern Congreve. In the scene of his 
 former glory he was low and dejected. When Mr. Kean was 
 introduced to him, every ear was awake, as it was supposed 
 that Mr. Sheridan would pay him a compliment. The only 
 remark he made was, " Mr. Kean, I am sorry to see you in so 
 bad a part." 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 251 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 New Season at Drury Lane Lord Byron's Monody on 
 Sheridan Stephen Kemble's Falstaff Kean in Sir Edward 
 Mortimer Appearance of Mrs. Alsop Maturin's " Ma- 
 nuel" Meeting of the Drury Lane Proprietors proposal 
 to let the Theatre Retirement of Mr. Incledon and Mr. 
 Johnstone Death of Simmons Mr. John Kemble quits 
 the stage Farewell dinner in honour of that great tragedian 
 "The Cobbler of Preston" Criticism on Munden's Kit 
 Sly Analysis of Extracts from the " Cobbler of Preston" 
 Drury Lane Theatre let on lease to Mr. Elliston Mun- 
 den renews his engagement Memorandum of agreement 
 between Munden and Elliston Unsuccessful revival of 
 Miss Bailey's tragedy of " De Montfort." 
 
 DRURY LANE, 1816-17. First night of the 
 season ; " School for Scandal ;" (Munden 
 played Sir Peter Teazle) and the farce of 
 " Who 's Who." Mrs. Davison recited a 
 monody on the death of Sheridan, written 
 by Lord Byron; the last couplet, in which 
 the point consisted, being a literal translation 
 from Ariosto. 12th, " Duenna." 14th, " Lo- 
 vers Vows." 17th, " Duenna," and " Past 
 Ten o'clock/' 19th, " Lovers Vows." 22nd, 
 Mr. Kean made his first appearance this sea- 
 son in Sir Giles Overreach. His fame con- 
 tinued to increase with each fresh perform- 
 ance. He played successively Richard III., 
 
252 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Sir Giles, Othello, Bertram, and Macbeth ; 
 after which was revived, (not acted for thirty 
 years,) O'Keefe's humorous farce, " The 
 Blacksmith of Antwerp." Oct. 5th, " The 
 Rivals." 7th, " King Henry IV. ;" Falstaff, 
 Mr. Stephen Kemble. Mr. S. Kemble was 
 not new to the London boards, as he had 
 played at Covent Garden in 1783. He was 
 a sensible and well read man, but not great in 
 his profession. The only remarkable circum- 
 stance in his Falstaff was that he played it 
 without stuffing. 28th, Kean performed Ti- 
 mon of Athens. Munden was solicited to 
 study Apemantus, but declined ; perhaps he 
 exercised a wise discretion. Timon added 
 another to the number of Kean's successful 
 parts. Nov. 5th, was produced a new comedy 
 which had long lain on the shelf, entitled 
 " The Guardians," by the author of " The 
 Honey Moon ;" it was well written, and had 
 a fair run. 23rd, Kean played, for the first 
 time, Sir Edward Mortimer, in " The Iron 
 Chest." If Mr. Colman had not been satis- 
 fied with Mr. Kemble, and was satisfied with 
 Mr. Elliston, he must have been very fastidi- 
 ous indeed, if he beheld Mr. Kean's perform- 
 ance without approval. In the trial scene, 
 the look of agony that preceded his reply 
 to Wilford's interrogatory, the searching 
 power of which he seemed at once to feel ; 
 his forced calmness, and attempt to smile 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 253 
 
 when he replied : " I answer no ! " formed 
 one of those striking 1 commentaries on the 
 text which were the triumphs of Kean's act- 
 ing-. The imitation of these effects is the 
 stock in trade of second-rate actors. " The 
 Iron Chest" continued to be performed to 
 crowded audiences. Munden played Adam 
 Winterton in his chastest style, and dressed 
 it admirably. 
 
 Jan. 3, 1817, Mrs. Alsop, a daughter of 
 Mrs. Jordan, appeared in Violante, in " The 
 Wonder." This lady remembered and pre- 
 served all Mrs. Jordan's points. She was 
 plain in person, but she possessed her mo- 
 ther's animal spirits, and, above all, her voice. 
 Feb. 20, Kean performed Othello to Booth's 
 lago. The circumstances of Mr. Booth's 
 engagement, and not very creditable retreat 
 from Covent Garden, which occasioned a rup- 
 ture between the management of the two 
 theatres are well-known. Never did Mr. 
 Kean play Othello so finely, and never was 
 a competitor so thrown into the shade. 
 March llth, Maturings tragedy of " Manuel" 
 was produced. Kean played the chief part ; 
 but the incidents were not well worked out, 
 and after being- performed a few nights, the 
 tragedy was suffered to drop. There were 
 some poetical passages in " Manuel;" this 
 among the rest : 
 
 Joy comes to us a splendid hurrying stranger, 
 And, ere we bid him welcome, Joy is gone ! 
 
254 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 But Sorrow is a dull and daily guest, 
 
 Who near us long his wonted seat hath taken, 
 
 Until his heaviness no burthen seems.* 
 
 The deficit in the receipts of the theatre 
 now became so serious, that, at a meeting- of 
 the Drury Lane proprietors in March, Mr. 
 George Robins, after finding fault with the 
 management of the sub-committee, proposed 
 that the theatre should be let. This course, 
 Mr. Robins said, Mr. Whitbread had recom- 
 mended should be adopted after the first 
 three years. The censure of the sub-com- 
 mittee brought up several of the members, 
 who, of course, did not join in their own 
 condemnation, and, after some recrimination, 
 Mr. Grenfell proposed and carried the follow- 
 ing resolutions, in lieu of those which Mr. 
 Robins had prepared. 
 
 1st. That the Theatre Royal Drury Lane be let upon a lease, 
 provided that an adequate rent and a valid security can 
 be obtained. 
 
 2nd. That a general meeting take steps accordingly, 'at the end 
 of the present season ; and that it be empowered to give 
 publicity to such reports as in their opinion may be for 
 the interest of the proprietors. 
 
 3rd. That the further proceedings be reported at the next 
 annual meeting of the proprietors, in May. 
 
 * The contrast of Joy and Sorrow seems a favourite theme 
 with Maturin. His novel of " Eva" contains a beautiful 
 passage (we quote from memory) : " In joy we sympathise 
 with strangers, but we weep only over those we love. The 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 255 
 
 Mr. Incledon, who had long been the most 
 popular singer on the English stage, becom- 
 ing advanced in years, and on the wane, 
 was at length unable to procure an engage- 
 ment at the London theatres. He was ad- 
 vised to try his fortune in America, and, 
 previously, to take a benefit, bidding adieu 
 to the English public. Under these affecting 
 circumstances, his theatrical brethren flocked 
 around him, and the Italian Opera-house, 
 which was offered to him for the night, was 
 crowded by his admirers to witness the per- 
 formance of <e Love in a Village," and " Three 
 Weeks after Marriage." The writer of these 
 pages had the gratification of contributing, 
 by Mr. Incledon's desire, an address in verse, 
 which was spoken with great feeling by Mr. 
 Dowton, holding the " wandering melodist" 
 by the hand, and encircled by the performers 
 of both theatres. Mr. Incledon, in his prime, 
 was perhaps the most successful ballad- 
 singer ever heard in this country ; and in 
 nautical songs altogether unrivalled : he had 
 also the good fortune to have Shield for a 
 composer. But, as the taste for Italian 
 music became prevalent, those who had for- 
 
 green leaves which the ancients scattered before their doors in 
 their hours of mirth, have long since faded away ; but we still 
 find the phial of tears which they buried near the urns of 
 their friends." 
 
256 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 merly dwelt with rapture on his accents, 
 affected to consider his style of sing-ing vul- 
 g-ar. He returned to England, and died in 
 1826. 
 
 Not long after, the stage was deprived of 
 Mr. John Johnstone. In some points there 
 was a resemblance between the history of 
 these eminent performers. Incledon had been 
 a common sailor, and John Johnstone a com- 
 mon soldier. Both rose to distinction in con- 
 sequence of the fine quality of voice they 
 possessed. Johnstone, who came out in 1783, 
 sank before the rising genius of Incledon, 
 who made his appearance at the same theatre 
 (Covent Garden) in 1790. 
 
 Incledon was a far superior singer to John- 
 stone ; his voice combined uncommon power, 
 sweetness, and flexibility ; and he was no mean 
 musician, having 1 been originally articled to 
 Jackson of Exeter, and received some instruc- 
 tion from Rauzzini ; but he, in his turn, was 
 eclipsed by Braham. Here the parallel ceases. 
 Jack Johnstone was fond of saving money, 
 and Charles Incledon of spending it. With 
 the same prudence which distinguished him 
 in private life, Mr. Johnstone, when he found 
 he was losing ground in one branch of the 
 profession, relinquished it at once, and as- 
 sumed the Irish characters, in which it is 
 doubtful if he ever had an equal ; for he 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 257 
 
 played the well-bred Milesian gentleman, and 
 the coarser Pat, with equal approximation to 
 nature. He was as superior to Moody in Ma- 
 jor O'Flaherty, as he was to Rock, in Murtoch 
 Delaiiy, and to our late favourite, poor Power, 
 in Dennis Bulgruddery. He retained still 
 such powers of voice as enabled him to sing 
 his Irish songs * with inimitable effect, height- 
 ened as it was by his pure brogue and genuine 
 humour ; whilst, in the gentlemanly parts, his 
 face, and person, and genteel carriage, ren- 
 dered him at once the individual he repre- 
 sented. He died in 1828. 
 
 Simmons died about the time that John- 
 stone retired. His death was occasioned by 
 an unfortunate accident : he fell down an area 
 in Hanover Square and was killed. Simmons 
 was the best second-rate comedian of late 
 years, and sometimes trod closely on the heels 
 of the first stagers. 
 
 April 28th, 1817, Mr. Dowton had for his 
 benefit the comedy of " The Rivals," with the 
 characters reversed Mrs. Sparks playing Sir 
 Anthony Absolute, and Dowton Mrs. Mala- 
 
 * It was whilst singing one of these songs, finishing with 
 *' a heigh down derry," that Johnstone was astonished hy an 
 echo from the gallery in the same note ; " Pay me, Jack 
 Johnstone, my ten and a penny," which proceeded from a 
 billiard-marker, whose little account he had omitted to settle. 
 
258 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 prop. The farce was a new one called " John 
 Gilpin," in which Dowton performed Johnny 
 Gilpin, and Munden a Cockney named An- 
 thony Brittle. It is to this performance of 
 Munden's that Mr. Lamb alludes, in his letter 
 to the editor of the Athenaum, which will be 
 found in the sequel. May 17th, for Spring-, 
 the box-keeper's benefit, he performed, " for 
 that night only," Governor Tempest, in " The 
 Wheel of Fortune," Dowton playing Penrud- 
 dock for the first time. 29th, for his own 
 benefit, Trappanti, Grub (" Contrarities," in 
 one act), and Cockletop. 
 
 On the 23d June, Mr. John Kemble took 
 his leave of that stage which he had so long 
 adorned. His last part was Coriolanus. 
 Poetry, painting, and sculpture met to con- 
 template the setting of that sun 
 
 " Whose parting presence (made) more bright 
 Our memory of the past." 
 
 A farewell dinner was given to this great 
 actor, at the Freemasons' Tavern, at which 
 Lord Holland presided; supported by a host of 
 nobility, and the still more distinguished names 
 of Moore, Campbell, Rogers, Crabbe, West, 
 Lawrence, Flaxman, and Chantrey. The 
 actors, too, crowded together to hail the depar- 
 ture of their master. " If," said Mr. Kemble, 
 on returning thanks, after his health had been 
 drunk with enthusiasm, " if I should live to 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 259 
 
 after times, it will be that my memory has 
 been celebrated by the Muse that dictated 
 ' The Pleasures of Hope.' " Never was im- 
 passioned verse, like Campbell's splendid Ode, 
 recited with such force and feeling, or listened 
 to with more mute attention, than, when Mr. 
 Young, rising, and pointing towards the table, 
 where sat the object of universal admiration, 
 bade to the 
 
 " Pride of the British stage a long, a last farewell ! " 
 
 When the impressive ceremony of the even- 
 ing was over, and conviviality resumed, some 
 merriment was excited by two trivial circum- 
 stances. Mr. Flaxman's health was proposed 
 and responded to by the public; but being of 
 a retiring disposition, he could not summon 
 resolution at the moment to acknowledge the 
 compliment ; and his presence was not percep- 
 tible, as he was seated at the further end of 
 the large room. A glee had accordingly com- 
 menced, when a diminutive figure walked up 
 towards the cross table, holding in his hand a 
 huge silver goblet, to address the chair. There 
 were few who knew what was meant, as his 
 thanks were delivered in a low tone of voice ; 
 and the fame of Flaxgaan was better known to 
 Europe than his person to the miscellaneous 
 assemblage then present. Charles Incledon, 
 who was one of the company, sang some of 
 
260 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 his songs with the energy of his early days. 
 Talma inquired who he was ; and hearing a 
 name which had so long been celebrated in 
 theatrical annals, jumped up from his seat, 
 and embraced him a la Fran^aise. 
 
 Drury-Lane, 1817-18 (first night of the 
 season), " School for Scandal." Sept. 29, 
 was revived, Johnson's " Cobbler of Preston/' 
 which had not been acted for forty years. The 
 Morning Herald thus notices this revival : 
 
 " It is astonishing how a thing so merry lay so long in the 
 shade. Some will probably recollect that it turns chiefly upon 
 the circumstance of Kit Sly, the cobbler, being, while in a 
 drunken mood, conveyed to the splendid apartments of Sir 
 Charles Briton. Here Kit, upon his waking, is, as may be 
 supposed, surprised out of his wits ; but, being fond of ale, 
 he soon calls for some, and recovers among his jolly ser- 
 vants a consciousness of his existence. He is told that he 
 has been asleep for fifteen years, and that he waked a Spanish 
 Grandee : all of which he soon believes. The consequences are, 
 that for a while he forgets his business and his wife Joan, and 
 that he is cured of his democratic politics. Munden, in this 
 droll character, raised a loud arid continued roar of laughter ; 
 he was festive to a high degree indeed we have not lately 
 witnessed anything in the way of a farce so true to its end of 
 making merry as this same ( Cobbler of Preston/ There is 
 something antiquated and repulsive, indeed, in its allusions to 
 Whigs and Tories ; and the object of the trick which is played 
 upon the cobbler, namely, to change his political sentiments, 
 does not easily come within the present rules of the stage ; 
 but the bad must be taken with the good. We laugh till we 
 are tired at the wondering and ragged Kit Sly, and that is 
 enough to redeem it from the other faults, darinar as thev are." 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 261 
 
 "The Cobbler of Preston 1 ' was a farce, in two 
 acts, written by Charles Johnson, and played at 
 Drury-Lane, in 1716. There is another farce, 
 on the same subject, by Bullock (see " Bio- 
 graphia Dramatica"), which was performed at 
 the theatre in Lincoln's Inn Fields, and is said 
 " to have been begun on Friday, finished on 
 Saturday, and acted on Tuesday following.'" 
 It was hurried in this manner to get the start 
 of Mr. Charles Johnson's farce of the same 
 name. The hint of both was taken from 
 Shakespeare's Drunken Tinker, in " The Tam- 
 ing of the Shrew;" and the extravagance of 
 the conception was more supportable than 
 when O'Keefe renewed the idea in his " Dol- 
 drum," in the person of an obstinate old gen- 
 tleman of modern times. The reference of the 
 Morning Herald, to " the antiquated allusions 
 to Whigs and Tories," must be understood as 
 meaning the Whigs and (Jacobins) Tories of 
 the olden time ; and the scene where the plot 
 is laid was chosen, no doubt, as being a focus 
 of disaffection. The copy before us was re- 
 printed from Johnson's publication, and " pub- 
 lished (by order of the committee of manage- 
 ment) by and for T. Rodwell, Theatre Royal 
 Drury-Lane, 1817." To add to their enormous 
 profits, the committee had a printing press in 
 the theatre, for the purpose of saving the ex- 
 pense of printing the bills of performance 
 
262 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The errors of the press in this (their publica- 
 tion) are alnjost as glaring- as the errors of 
 their management. As it is now scarce, we 
 take the liberty to give an analysis, from Mun- 
 den's copy, which contains several alterations 
 in his hand-writing, to reduce the farce to one 
 act, as he played it afterwards for his benefit. 
 We copy, as the committee printed : 
 
 DRAMATIS PERSONS. 
 
 Sir Charles Briton . . . Messrs. T. Cooke. 
 
 Squire Jolly Smith. 
 
 Peter (disguished (disguised) as Lorenzo) Barnard. 
 
 Richard (as Diego) . . . Kent. 
 
 John (as Bartolino) ... J. Smith. 
 
 William (as Antonio) . . . Ebsworth. 
 
 Huntsman .... Fisher. 
 
 Constable ..... Minton. 
 
 Butler Cooke. 
 
 Countryman ..... Hughes. 
 
 Kit Sly Munden. 
 
 Marian (daughter of Squire Jolly) . Miss Cubitt. 
 
 Cicely Gundy Mrs. Sparks. 
 
 Joan Mrs. Harlowe. 
 
 Alice . . . . . . Mrs. Hughes. 
 
 Dragoons, Huntsmen, Servants. 
 
 The first scene opens with a view of Squire 
 Jolly's garden, and a distant view of the coun- 
 try. Noise of horns and hunting at a dis- 
 tance. Enter Marian, and afterwards Squire 
 Jolly. We collect from the dialogue that 
 Marian is in love with Sir Charles Briton, 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 263 
 
 and that her father is averse to the match on 
 account of Sir Charles's politics. Some of 
 the speeches are printed unintelligibly, being 
 assigned to the wrong party. Sir Charles 
 Briton joins them, with the huntsmen ; and 
 Jolly, after reproaching him with the misdeeds 
 of his retainers, concludes : 
 
 Jolly. Harkye, Sir Charles, let me see one of those knaves 
 you support, return to a quiet demeanour and honest industry, 
 from your influence, I'll take it for earnest of more, and you 
 shall have my daughter, 
 
 Sir C. Agreed, Sir, with all my heart. You shall speedily 
 see this task accomplished, perhaps this very day. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 THE OUTSIDE OF CICELY*S HOUSE. 
 
 Enter the Cobbler, Cicely, Gundy, and Alice, 
 
 Cob. Huzza ! huzza ! hawks, halloo, my brave boys ! 
 
 Cic. Out, you knave ! a pair of stocks, sirrah ! a whipping 
 post, you rogue ! a whipping post ! 
 
 Cob. You are a baggage. Look'ee, say what you will of 
 me, but don't disparage my family ; the Slys came in with 
 William the Conqueror ; and so let the world slide. (Fencing 
 with his stick.) 
 
 Cic. Sirrah ! sirrah ! will you pay for the mugs you have 
 broke. 
 
 Cob. No, not a single farthing. I will live upon free 
 quarter. I am free of all the ale and roast beef in England, 
 you housewife ; I will have no reckonings paid at all ; 'tis 
 downright abomination ; your sober, small beer whey-beards 
 shall pay all the scott ; and I will tax them at my will and 
 pleasure, huzza! He that cannot leap a five-bar gate knows 
 nothing of generalship. 
 
264 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Alice. Vartal, father, what a pickle is he in ! 
 
 Cic. Well, Kit, I know my remedy, Kit ; I'll go fetch the 
 constable. (Exeunt). 
 
 Cob. Give me some more drink, you old dry puttock. 
 Why, let the constable come ; I'll answer him by law, I'll not 
 budge an inch ; let him come. What, are you for that sport ? 
 Have at. you. (Tumbles down.) Well, you have conquered 
 me. I surrender. Here, Cicely ! Alice ! a double jug ; scorce 
 (score) it. (Falls asleep). 
 
 Sir Charles Briton, Squire Jolly, the hunts- 
 men, and servants, enter, as from hunting 1 , 
 and finding- Kit in this state, agree that he 
 shall be conveyed to Sir Charles's house, and 
 treated as a man of quality. The servants are 
 directed to put on some Spanish masquerade 
 dresses ordered for the Christmas holidays. 
 Scene 3rd contains Cicely's charge against 
 Kit to the constable for " burglary, for calling 
 his good worship, Sir Jeoifrey Freeman, a 
 presbyterian, shematick, and a roundhead :" 
 and with " forswearing himself, and perjury, 
 and bearing false witness, for knocking down 
 Peter Turph (qy. Turf), because honest Peter 
 would not drink his abomination healths." 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 A BED-CHAMBER. 
 
 (The doors opened, the Cobbler discovered in a rich bed; servants 
 
 on each side the stage.) 
 
 Kit. (yawning). Heigh-ho ! a pot of small eale, Joan, for 
 heaven's sake, a pot of small eale ; why do'st not come, 
 woman 1 Hey-day ! what ! why certainly I am awake. Ah ! 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 265 
 
 what ! I am most damnably frightened. I don't like these 
 fellows ; who are they ? I dare not ask ; no, not for the soul 
 of me. 
 
 Enter Lorenzo. 
 
 Loren. Is my Lord awake, Diego? 
 
 Diego. Softly, Lorenzo, softly ; he is asleep still. Heaven 
 grant this sweet refreshment may do him good. 
 
 Loren. His Majesty has sent to know how he rested last 
 night. 
 
 Diego. Better than usual, truly better than usual; he 
 does not stir yet ; how greatly the King honours him ! 
 
 Kit. I am most horribly frighted. The King send to know 
 how I rest ! I am most damnably frighted. 
 (Diego goes to the bed, and Kit sneaks his head under the bed- 
 clothes.) 
 
 Diego. He "sleeps still ; the doctor, when he comes, will 
 do wonders. Wejl, if he recovers his Lordship, he will have 
 a gratuity of a thousand pounds from the King for the cure ; 
 besides the honour of bringing back a person of his wisdom 
 and weight to the service of the public. 
 
 Kit. Humph How ! I cannot guess what the devil they 
 drive at. 
 
 Diego. 'Tis a thousand pities so fine a gentleman should 
 be thus disturbed in his head. 
 
 Kit. Fine gentleman ! 
 
 Diego. Ten to one, now, when he awakes, he will ramble 
 and rave as he used to do, about the story of the cobbler and 
 his wife. 
 
 Kit. A cobbler and his wife ! why, they can't mean me, 
 sure, all this while ! 
 
 Loren. Ay, how oddly will he talk of his being a poor 
 cobbler ; and that his wife, Joan, is the veriest vixen in all 
 Lancashire. 
 
 Diego. 'Tis that beer, Lorenzo, that damn'd English strong 
 beer, that distracts him so, and fills him with base ignoble 
 thoughts. 
 
 N 
 
266 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Loren. Tis strange ! no advice can prevail with him not 
 to drink it. 
 
 Kit. Ay! now 'tis plain they mean me. But what! 
 Nay ; now I am more amazed than ever. Humph ! What 
 company am I got into ? How came I in this bed ? 
 
 Diego. Order his Lordship's band of music in the anti- 
 chamber gently to touch their instruments, and awake him 
 with the sweetest, softest sounds of harmony. 
 
 Kit. Music ! What the devil are they about ? Here is 
 some cursed blunder made ; I shall be hang'd, that is certain ; 
 I am got into a lord's bed-chamber, I don't know how ; ay, 
 and into his very bed, I don't know when. (A strain of 
 music.) 
 
 Diego. I will venture to peep once more, and see if he 
 stirs yet. 
 
 Kit. Ah, Lord ! now I am taken in the fact. 
 
 Diego (softly at his curtains). My Lord, my honour'd 
 Lord. 
 
 Kit. What does your good worship say ? Here is nobody 
 here but I. 
 
 Loren. Your Lordship's gown. 
 
 (They put on his gown and set him at the feet of the bed.) 
 
 Diego. Will your Lordship taste some chocolate, or tea ? 
 
 Kit. If you please, you mistake me for some other person. 
 
 Loren. Ah ! Diego, Diego ! he is still in the same un- 
 happy distraction. 
 
 Diego. What clothes will your Lordship please to wear 
 to-day? . 
 
 Kit. Pho ! what do you mean ? I am Christopher Sly, of 
 Preston heath. Nay, nay, do not gear a body thus. 
 
 Diego. Your English brocade will be too hot, and the 
 Persian too cool ; I think your Genoa ash-coloured velvet will 
 suit your honour best to-day. 
 
 Kit. Nonsense, nonsense, it is well known I have no more 
 doublets than backs, nor no more stockings than legs, nor no 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 267 
 
 more shoes than feet ; nay, sometimes more feet than shoes, or 
 such shoes as my toes peep through the upper leather. 
 
 Diego. Heaven, good heaven, amend this idle humour : 
 Oh ! that a man so born, in such esteem and credit, of so 
 clear a judgment, and so sound an understanding, should be 
 possessed by such an evil spirit ! 
 
 Kit. What, would you make me mad? Am I not Kit 
 Sly ; old Sly's son of Wigan ? Ask Cicely Gundy, the eale 
 wife of Preston, if she know me not ; if she say I am not 
 nineteen-pence-halfpenny on her score for sheer eale, score me 
 up for the most lying knave in Christendom. 
 
 Diego. Oh ! this it is that makes your lady mourn. 
 
 Loren. Oh ! this it is that makes your servants droop. 
 
 Bart- Therefore your noble kindred shun your house, 
 As driven hence by this strange lunacy. 
 Behold your servants all attend around, 
 Each in his office, ready at your nod. 
 
 Kit. Very well, very well, then you say I am a lord. 
 Ah! 
 
 Diego. You are a lord ; and you can draw your lineage 
 down from the flood ; so noble is your name. 
 
 Kit. Oh ! Oh ! but am I really, really a Lord? 
 
 Loren. Ah ! my good Lord, why should you doubt your 
 worth ? 
 
 You have a lady far more beautiful 
 Than any woman in this waning age. 
 
 Kit. A lady Ah ! What, is she handsome ? very hand- 
 
 some 
 
 Loren. Until those tears, which she has shed for you, 
 Like wasting floods o'erran her lovely face, 
 She was the fairest creature in all Spain. 
 Kit. Spain ? Am I a Lord ? And have I such a lady ? 
 Or do I dream? Or have I dreamed till now? I do not 
 sleep ; I see, I hear, t speak. Oh ! pooh ; it would be very 
 rude and impertinent in me to doubt any longer. Well, bring 
 
 N 2 
 
268 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 our lady hither to our sight. And, prithee, friend, once more, 
 a pot of the smallest eale. 
 
 Loren. Oh ! how we joy to see your wits restored. 
 Oh ! that once more you knew but who you were ! 
 These fifteen years you have been in a dream, 
 Or when you waked, so waked, as if you slept. 
 Enter Marian, as his lady, with two female attendants, and Sir 
 Charles, disguised as a doctor. , 
 
 Mar. How fares my noble Lord ? 
 
 Kit. Marry, I fare well ; here's cheer enough. But pray 
 where's my wife ? 
 
 Mar. Here, my good Lord. I have brought you a learned 
 doctor. What is your Lordship's pleasure ? 
 
 Kit. Hah ! a goodly wench ! a bona roba in troth. Now 
 shall I know whether this 'be a dream or no, in a moment. 
 Are you my wife, forsooth ? Ah ! why don't you call me 
 husband? My men say I am a lord, and I am your good 
 man. 
 
 Mar. My husband and my lord, my lord and husband. I 
 am your dearest wife in all obedience. 
 
 Kit. Very well ; I am glad to hear it. What must I call 
 her? 
 
 Diego. Madam. 
 
 Kit. Alice Madam, or Joan Madam ? 
 
 Diego. Madam, and nothing else ; so lords call their 
 ladies. 
 
 Kit. Madam, they say that I have slept and dreamt some 
 fifteen years, or thereabouts. 
 
 Mar. Yes ; and it seemed a tedious age to me. 
 
 Kit. Hah ! that's much ! Servants leave me and Madam 
 alone, before I take t'other nap. Madam wife, come and 
 kiss me. 
 
 Doct . My honor'd lord, this would endanger a relapse ; 
 such a gratification, now, would cause a tumefaction, which 
 would occasion an inflammation, which might increase to a 
 conflagration, and thereby give birth to a schirrification, which 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 269 
 
 must end in a mortification, which is, properly speaking', a dis- 
 solution of action, in consequence whereof the springs of life 
 stand still : the vulgar call it death. (Spoken very fast). 
 
 Kit. Zounds, Mr. Doctor, I'll venture all that, I am not 
 going to be directed by you in this matter ; come, Madam 
 wife, if we give ear to this idle rascal, I may fall into a dream 
 again, and may'nt have a kiss for fifteen years longer. 
 
 Mar. Thrice noble lord, let me intreat of you to pardon 
 me; 
 
 For your physicians all agree in this, 
 'Tis certain your distemper will return ; 
 I hope this reason stands for my excuse. 
 
 Kit. Ay ! Well, I should be loath to fall into my dreams 
 again, for I am devilishly afraid of relapsing into a Cobbler. 
 But hearky ! your whiskers, Don Diego what countryman 
 am I, pray ? 
 
 Diego. Ah, my good lord, there's not a Cond in all Arra- 
 gon can boast a family so ancient, or a more plentiful inhe- 
 ritance. 
 
 Kit. An Arrogant Cond^ ! what's that ? 
 
 Diego. The King of Spain himself, whom we all serve, 
 has not a nobler subject. 
 
 Kit. What ! then I am a Spaniard, am I ? Prithee, my 
 friend, what language do we speak now ? Ah ! 
 . Diego. Truly, my lord, I think we speak better Spanish 
 here than they do at Madrid. 
 
 Loren. Oh ! Alcantara has been always famous for the 
 purest Spanish. 
 
 Kit. Ha, ha, ha, why these mustachioed, stiff-necked foot- 
 men are a pack of the most consumed liars. Hearky ! friend, 
 'tis in vain to argue this matter with you I find ; but I do, be- 
 tween you and I now, positively assure you that I never could 
 speak any other language than plain English in my life. 
 
 Diego. Why, how is it possible, my lord, for me, who 
 
270 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 understand nothing but Spanish, to answer you, if you spoke 
 nothing but English ? 
 
 Kit. Ay, why that's true, very true ; well, well, I will ask 
 no further questions, for they puzzle me consumedly. For 
 heaven's sake let us have a cup of strong beer. Nay, don't 
 stare : for by the Lord Harry, I will have it so, or I'll flay you 
 all alive (Exeunt two servants for jugs and horns } while two others 
 bring forward table and chairs. J Ay, and you shall all sit 
 down and drink bumpers round, as fast as you can pour them 
 down. Come, Diego, you are my first minister ; sit on my 
 right hand : so. 
 
 Doct. Might I presume, my lord, that English beer, which 
 you delight in, is too heavy for your constitution. 
 
 Kit. What ? how ? are you giving your advice again, 
 sirrah ? Zounds ! you smutty-muzzled rascal, pretend to tell 
 me that strong beer is not good for me ! lend me your spit 
 friend ; I'll put that dog to death this moment. (Doctor re- 
 tires ) What, is he gone ? 'tis well : what a plague, if one did 
 not pluck up a spirit, I see come, Diego all of you sit 
 down (two servants bring in a large jug of strong beer and 
 country drinking-horns}. Ay, that is somewhat like ! set it 
 down and place the horn in my right hand : come, here's to 
 all true hearts and sound bottoms ! (All) True hearts and 
 sound bottoms ! (they drink). 
 
 Diego. Ay, this is a loyal health indeed ! 
 
 Kit. Ah Diego ! if we were not in Spain now, I could 
 drink such healths as would set us all together by the ears in 
 a moment ! Are you a Whig or a Tory ? 
 
 Diego. I don't know what your Lordship means. 
 
 Kit's wife, Joan, now enters in a great pas- 
 sion, but they shuffle her out, and persuade 
 Kit, -that what he saw was a vision of the 
 imagination. N 
 
 Act the 2nd opens at the constable's house, 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 271 
 
 whither Sir Charles's butler, who has been 
 made dead drunk, and dressed in the cobbler's 
 clothes, has been conveyed. Joan, whose 
 senses are a little confused by the ale, with 
 which the servants plied her in Sir Charles's 
 pantry, is induced to believe it is her husband. 
 Joan however returns home, and finds her ac- 
 tual spouse, just awake, having- been trans- 
 ported back to his abode. 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 A Cobbler's Stall on one side of the stage, and a little poor bed 
 on the other, Kit in bed ; a stool with the morning-gown ; a 
 cobbler's working stool and tools. Boots, shoes, and galoshoes 
 
 4-c. 
 
 Kit, f alone) Hey oh ! where are my servants ? Here, 
 some of you bring me a whole butt of your English small beer. 
 Here Diego ! Lorenzo ! Bartolino ! why, where are my var- 
 lets ? I'll have the dogs' liveries stripped over their ears, and 
 turn'em all out to grass. Though I must own I have a sort of 
 liking to Senior Diego, he took his glass off supernaculum 
 Ah ! what ! why this is my old flock hammock ! Ay, and 
 there is my spacious shop too, of a yard long ! now am I most 
 consumedly puzzled, to know whether I dreamt before, or 
 whether I dream now, or whether 'tis all a dream from begin- 
 ning to ending ? whether I am my lord What d'y'call him, or 
 Kit the Cobbler ? somebody or nobody ? 
 
 Enter Joan. 
 
 Hold ! here comes one who will interpret all my dream, 
 with a vengeance. 
 
 Joan (busy sweeping and setting the room to right) Was 
 there ever such a sot ! All our neighbours cry shame o'en 
 wou'd he were here ! I would rattle him ! Good luck ! What 
 
272 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 a litter this shop is in ! We have a raort of work and not one 
 stitch set ; there's neighbour Clumps' boots to be liquor'd ; 
 there's Peter Hobson's shoe'n to be tapp'd ; besides Dame 
 Goslin's pattens, and the curate's galoshoes that are to be lin'd 
 with swan skin. Oh Lud ! Oh thieves ! murther ! fire ! 
 
 Kit. How now ! what, is the woman mad ? 
 
 Joan. Thieves, thieves ! 
 
 Kit. Silence, I say. What has possessed the woman ? 
 Either take that abominable shrill pipe of thine a note lower : 
 or I will 
 
 Joan. Who are you ? what are you ? how came you here ? 
 and what business have you in this place ? 
 
 Kit. All ! 
 
 Joan. Oh ! lud ! Kit ! why, I left thee just now fast 
 asleep at the constable's house. I staid but one moment at 
 Goody Tattle's, to tell her to take her cow out of the lees. 
 And see if thou hast not slipt home, and got into bed before 
 me ! 
 
 Kit. Let us hear that again ! Ah ! where didst thou 
 leave thy husband, good woman, dost thou say ? 
 
 Joan. Why, I tell thee Kit, I left thee at the constable's, 
 drunk asleep ; and I marl how thou gottest home so soon ! 
 
 Kit. Haud ye ! haud ye ! Not so fast, woman. I will 
 take care thy husband shall come to no harm : he is an honest 
 man : he loves a cup of ale, I have heard ; but that's a small 
 fault. Go home, be easy ; my servants shall bring thee thy 
 husband . 
 
 Joan. Thy servants ! Out, you drunken sot. Why, Kit, 
 what do you deny your lawful wife, Kit 1 {Crying.) Oh, 
 oh ! was ever poor woman so used by a saucy knave. 
 
 Kit. Look thee, Joan, that I do not use any discipline to 
 thee now, if I can guess at thy husband's temper, may be a 
 proof to thee that I am not thy husband. But be peaceable, 
 and presently too, or else I know, by some infallible symp- 
 toms, that I shall dream of strapping thee most unmercifully. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 273 
 
 Joan. Oh, lud ! oh, lud ! to be sure our Kit is distraught ; 
 his brains are quite addled. What shall I do with 'em ? 
 Come, Kit, I won't be angry : lie down in the bed ; do ye so, 
 and I will get a cardous posset. 
 
 Kit, No, no ; I will arise, and consider this matter up- 
 rightly : ay, and with much wisdom. But do not multiply 
 words ; if thou art my wife, be obedient and silent. Come, 
 give me my clothes, woman. 
 
 Joan. Clothes ! god dy'e, now ! god dy'e ! here are no 
 clothes. Why, Kit, what hast thou done with thy clothes, 
 Kit? 
 
 Kit. No clothes ! no clothes. Nay, I do not remember 
 that I wore any clothes when I was your Spanish lord yonder, 
 neither. 
 
 Joan. Oh, gemini : what is this, Kit ? Oh, the father ; 
 what a fine silken gown is this here. 
 
 Kit. Now the murder's out ! now it is plain again. (In a 
 rage.) Answer me, thou Witch of Endor. How came I 
 hither ? How did you steal me away ? Where are your 
 imps 1 Restore me to my lordship, my house, my lands, my 
 servants, and my cellar of strong beer. 
 
 A countryman drops in, to whom Kit 
 speaks in his lordly style, to which the honest 
 rustic replies : 
 
 Coun. I came in an honest way, as I may say, to take my 
 sho'en, if they are soal'd and heel-pieced. And so, my lord, 
 if you pleasen, as they say'n, to wax one end of thread, and 
 handle your awl for a minute or two, you may be a lord after- 
 wards, and welcome ha, ha, ha. Here, take your thirteen- 
 pence, and sole my shoes directly. 
 
 Kit. Ah ! what ! Thirteen-pence dost thou say ? Thir- 
 teen-pence is, indeed, a considerable sum ; and seriously now, 
 I do not find that my lordship has any money at all. I sup- 
 pose that my steward keeps my cash. Ay, but where is he ? 
 
 N5 
 
274 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The scoundrels are all vanished. What shall I do 1 My 
 mind misgives me now, that I can sole a pair of shoes by in- 
 stinct. Od, I'll try and earn a penny in an honest way. 
 Fetch me my shop here, and I'll begin my work directly. 
 ( They fetch his stool down.) Joan, take the poor fellows thir- 
 teen-pence, and fetch a double flaggon of Goody Gundy's 
 stingo. I think I heard of such an eale wife among you, when 
 I was in England. 
 
 While his wife is gone to fetch the eale, 
 Kit sits down to his work, and soliloquizes : 
 
 Kit. Honest Kit, or my lord, or my lord Kit, for which of 
 you I speak to, I cannot tell at present : the question, then, 
 between me and myself, is, whether I am a dreaming cobbler, 
 and (or) a waking lord ? Yesterday my servants were all 
 Spanish gentlemen ; my wife was a lady ; my bed silken ; my 
 house as big as a church ; my meat so good that I could not 
 tell what it was ; and my beer as right as ever was tipp'd : all, 
 all these things, I say, did then appear to these eyes of mine 
 (if these eyes of mine are mine, and were then open) to belong 
 to me, their natural lord and master ; and now, this morning, 
 my fine lady is turned into a scolding vixen ; my great house 
 into a wretched hovel ; my spacious chamber into a cobbler's 
 stall ; and my silken bed into musty flocks and filthy woollen. 
 In short, all things around me appear to be the rascally appur- 
 tenances of Kit, the cobbler. I am horribly transmogrified 
 from day to day ! Pho ! plague ! it must be so ; I am but a 
 cobbler after all : at least I'll fix here now ; 'tis better to be 
 somebody than nobody. 
 
 Again do the "foul fiends" assail poor Kit. 
 In his wife's presence the four servants come, 
 in their Spanish habits, and bear him away, 
 lamenting his "old distraction." Joan and 
 the countryman are lost in astonishment, as 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 275 
 
 he retires, preceded by two attendants as 
 ushers, with white wands, the music playing 1 a 
 march, and the four servants following. At 
 his departure, he addresses Joan : 
 
 Kit. Good woman, fare you well. Commend me to your 
 husband ; if he would be sober, he is a special workman, that 
 is certain ; I'll be his customer, he shall mend my shoes : is 
 he a good hand at heel-tapping ? 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 The hall-house discovered; a spacious room; the cobbler at a 
 table ; strong beer upon it ; his servants waiting round him ; 
 and a doctor at his right hand, offering him a vial. 
 
 Kit. Look'ee, doctor, make as many damnably ugly faces 
 as you please, I'll not taste a drop of your physic. 
 
 Doc. My lord, with the most profound submission, 'tis 
 impossible to recover your lordship without the administration 
 of medicine. 
 
 Kit. Why, then, I will remain as I am. What would the 
 fellow have 1 Harkee, tap a fresh hogshead, I command you. 
 This damn'd fellow denies me a kiss from Madam wife, my 
 roast beef, and pretends to be my friend ! 
 
 Doc. My lord, 'tis absolutely necessary that your lordship 
 should bleed. 
 
 Kit. Ah! bleed! 
 
 Doc. It will qualify this unnatural heat in your blood, and 
 make it circulate freely. 
 
 Kit. You are a son of a . ( Throws a glass of ale in 
 
 his face.) Leave my presence ; I am not able to bear the sight 
 of you. 
 
 Doc. rlt is not you, my lord, who use me thus, but your 
 distemper ; which, for that reason, I am resolved to conquer. 
 It will be proper, therefore, to shave your head. 
 
 Kit. Shave my head ! 
 
276 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Doc. After which we will make a couple of blisters inci- 
 sional in the nape of your neck. 
 
 Kit. What ! Am I to be butchered here ? Oons, what 
 do you mean ? 
 
 Doc. My lord, I shall act only according to the celebrated 
 prescription of that most learned doctor of the faculty, Seignior 
 Palambrino Cento Galfrido Pedro de Mendosa. 
 
 Kit. I don't care if Seignior Doctor Mendosa Palfrey and 
 you were both hang'd in a string. Sirrah, I dismiss you from 
 my service ; I'll have no more to do with you. 
 
 Doc. Come, Lorenzo, Bartolino, hold him : this is the 
 most proper time imaginable ; the moon is in the last quadrant 
 of the ecliptic. ( They hold him, the Doctor draws his incision 
 knife, while Kit struggles and cries out.) 
 
 Kit. Dogs, rogues, villains, I'll have you all hanged. 
 
 They then tell him that a troop of dragoons 
 have surrounded the house, and that they have 
 a warrant to arrest him for high treason. 
 
 Kit. What shall I do ? Could not you clap me into an 
 empty hogshead, in the cellar ? Do, Diego, do ; and throw a 
 Cheshire cheese, and a peck loaf or two after me." 
 
 Squire Jolly enters, disguised as a Captain 
 of dragoons, and extorts from him a confes- 
 sion that he was concerned in the riots in the 
 county. Munden, in his alterations, has very 
 judiciously omitted the politics, which are ob- 
 solete. He substitutes the following oath for 
 Kit Sly's confession. 
 
 Capt. Attend, now ! Swear you believe your wife honest. 
 Sly. I swear I believe my wife honest. 
 Capt. Swear that you will put your strap to its right use, 
 and never beat your wife again. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 277 
 
 Sty. I swear to put my strap to its right use, and never 
 beat my wife again. 
 
 Capt. And never more to get drunk and neglect thy busi- 
 ness. 
 
 Sly. All my comforts, one by one, they take from me ; 
 and never more to get drunk and neglect my business. 
 
 Capt. Well, I believe your promise to reform is pretty 
 honest. Get thee home, Kit, cobble thy shoes avoid drunk- 
 enness and amend thy life for the future. (All the parties then 
 discover themselves, and the Cobbler of Preston is disenchanted. 
 
 Christopher Sly is the subject of one of 
 Elia's eloquent encomiums " on the acting of 
 Munden :" 
 
 " Can any man wonder, like him ? can any man see ghosts, 
 like him? or fight with his own shadow ' Sessa' as he 
 does in that strangely-neglected thing, the l Cobbler of Pres- 
 ton ;' where his alternations from the cobbler to the magnifico, 
 and from the magnifico to the cobbler, keep the brain of the 
 spectator in as wild a ferment as if some Arabian night were 
 being acted before him." 
 
 Drury Lane, 1818, 1819. This season opened 
 under the management of Mr. Stephen Kem- 
 ble, who brought forward his son, Mr. Henry 
 Kemble, in several principal characters in 
 tragedy, but with indifferent success. Equally 
 unsuccessful was the experiment of lowering 
 the prices of the boxes to five shillings, and 
 pit to three shillings. There was little of 
 novelty this season ; our actor continued to 
 play his usual parts. The affairs of the thea- 
 tre began to grow worse and worse, and at 
 length it was obliged to be closed ; the com- 
 
278 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 pany playing, by virtue of a license granted 
 by the Lord Chamberlain, for a short period, 
 at the little theatre in the Haymarket, under 
 the superintendence of Messrs. Munden, Rae, 
 Holland, and Russell ; Kean and Elliston, per- 
 formed for their brother actors, one night each, 
 it is believed, gratuitously. The Duke of 
 Sussex patronized a night's performance, and 
 the Duke and Duchess of York gave their 
 sanction to another representation. July 13th, 
 Miss O'Neil acted for the last time. Mrs. 
 Haller, her most successful part, was the 
 character in which she appeared. It was not 
 formally announced that it was this young 
 lady's intention to quit the stage; but she 
 was shortly afterwards united in marriage to 
 a gentleman of fortune, and now fills that rank 
 to which none of her predecessors in the pro- 
 fession, who were so fortunate as to attain it, 
 have lent a truer nobility than Miss O'Neil. 
 Mrs. Charles Kemble also retired, having, 
 during the long . period she had graced the 
 boards, scarcely had a competitor in the line 
 wherein she chiefly excelled melodrame. 
 Those who recollect her as Miss De Camp, 
 will hardly expect to see her equal in such 
 characters as Edmund, (The Blind Boy) ; 
 Theodore, (Deaf and Dumb) ; and, Morgiana, 
 (Forty Thieves) ; and she added varied ac- 
 complishments, and some of an intellectual 
 order, to the charm of her acting. Mrs. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 279 
 
 Charles Kemble played once more, of late 
 years, for the purpose of introducing- to the 
 public her daughter, Miss F. Kemble. 
 
 The period had now arrived, when, as had 
 been long predicted, the committee had no 
 alternative but to let the theatre ; and, as " all 
 men think all men mortal but themselves," it 
 was not difficult to find victims to self-immo- 
 lation. The first was Mr. Elliston. If ever 
 there was a man led away by vanity, it was 
 Robert William Elliston. With talents of a 
 very high order in the strict line of his profes- 
 sion, he was ambitious to excel in every other. 
 His tragedy, which was never very good, be- 
 came at last intolerable ; but he 
 
 " Was a man so various that he seemed to be 
 Not one, but all mankind's epitome." 
 
 He tried all sorts of experiments, building, 
 book-writing, book-selling, and the freak of 
 management. He took the Circus, and altered 
 its name to the Surrey Theatre ; and now be- 
 came lessee of Drury Lane, with Mr. Russell 
 for his stage-manager, and Mr. Winston, act- 
 ing manager. Previous to opening- the theatre 
 he wrote in these terms to our actor : 
 
 T. R. D. L. 
 
 Sept. 26th, 1819. 
 Dear Munden, 
 
 I am going to make your fortune. Tel me whether 
 Tuesday, or Thursday, for ' the Dominie/ will suit you best. 
 The part is six lengths, and little or no music. We shall 
 
280 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 rehearse it Monday, and Tuesday ; or Monday, Wednesday, 
 and Thursday. 
 
 The house is beautiful, and all going on well. 
 
 Yours, most truly, 
 
 R. W. ELLISTON. 
 Mr. Munden, &c. &c. 
 
 Notwithstanding- this cool, off-hand sort of 
 way of taking every thing for granted, Mun- 
 den chose to decline the preferred " fortune." 
 He was quite satisfied with the laurels he had 
 gained, and did not covet an interference with 
 Mr. Liston's well-merited reputation. The 
 theatre opened with " Wild Oats," and " Lock 
 and Key," on the 4th Oct. ; and on the 7th, 
 " Guy Mannering " was performed ; Dominie 
 Sampson, by Mr. Oxberry. Oct. 26th, Mun- 
 den played Caustic. Nov. 1st, Sir Abel Han- 
 dy. 2nd ; Old Dornton, to Ellistou's Young 
 Dornton. Mr. Elliston played this part, and 
 Rover, in " Wild Oats," in a style of lively, 
 buoyant humour, which elicited applause suffi- 
 cient to gratify any reasonable ambition. In 
 the serious parts of Harry Dornton he was, 
 likewise, affecting, natural, and impressive ; 
 perhaps, altogether, he was the ablest repre- 
 sentative of the character, superior even to 
 the original Holman. In Rover, latterly, he 
 grew prosy towards the end : when describing 
 his departure from India with an empty pocket, 
 instead of the rattling levity of Lewis, he de- 
 claimed ; and as he slapped Munden on the 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 281 
 
 shoulder, and in a lengthened tone ex- 
 claimed : " Would'st thou have done so, little 
 Ephra im ?" the latter would raise his eye- 
 brows, which were very fully developed, and 
 cast a significant glance at a fellow performer 
 on the stage. 
 
 Munden revived for his benefit, 30th May, 
 the comedy of " Fashionable Levities," in three 
 acts, which had not been acted for twenty- 
 five years. Welford, Elliston ; Sir Buzzard 
 Savage, Munden ; Ordeal, Pope ; Capt. Dou- 
 glas, Hamblin ; Nicholas, Knight ; Lady Flip- 
 pant Savage, Mrs. Glover ; Clara, Mrs. Mar- 
 dyn ; Grace, Miss Kelly ; with the " Cobbler 
 of Preston," in one act ; and " Past Ten 
 o'Clock." June 19th, he played Harmony for 
 Elliston's benefit ; and 29th, John Moody, for 
 that of Mrs. W. West and Mr. Knight. ' The 
 theatre closed for the season on the 8th July ; 
 but was re-opened on the 15th August, in 
 order that Mr. Kean might perform his prin- 
 cipal characters, previous to his departure for 
 America. The foolish practice of printing this 
 tragedian's name in large characters at the 
 foot of the bills, with similar puffs in red and 
 black ink, was carried to the highest pitch of 
 absurdity at this juncture. 
 
 Munden concluded a fresh engagement with 
 Mr. Elliston for the ensuing season.* We 
 
 * I apprehend that our actor had always received the same 
 
282 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 find it thus drawn up in his own hand-writing. 
 As it is unsigned, we are not certain it was 
 the agreement acted upon : 
 
 " Memorandum of agreement between Mr. Elliston and Mr. 
 
 Munden, both of Drury Lane Theatre, this 27th day of 
 
 October, 1820. 
 
 " Mr. Munden agrees to perform the ensuing season, until 
 the close of next May, for which he is to receive 20/. a week. 
 
 " Mr. Munden to have the privilege of writing two box- 
 orders for the theatre every night during the season ; and if 
 orders go generally, Mr, Munden to write two more ; and, if 
 any performer is allowed more, Mr. Munden to have the same 
 privilege. 
 
 " Mr. Mun^en's benefit to take place in May, with the 
 notice of one month ; but if the said benefit should be so fixed 
 as to take place in the Epsom race week, then to be deferred 
 to the week next ensuing, viz. June, 1821 ; unless the Monday 
 previous to the said race week should be offered to Mr. 
 Munden. 
 
 " Mr. Elliston agrees with Mr. Munden, that no forfeiture 
 or deduction from the said salary shall, on any pretence what- 
 ever, be taken from him during the above period. 
 
 " If Mr. Munden should be ill more than one week, he will 
 not claim any salary after that week, until he is able to per- 
 form again. 
 
 " Mr. Munden's benefit not to be fixed on a Friday or 
 Saturday." 
 
 The theatre opened on the 30th October, 
 with " The Road to Ruin." Munden played 
 
 salary since he joined the Drury Lane company. It is observ- 
 able that he herein modifies his claim to his salary during 
 illness, as his fits of gout had now become so frequent that he 
 could not reasonably require it. T. S. M. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 283 
 
 his customary parts. Nov. 20th, he performed 
 the character of Pigtail, a tobacconist, for- 
 merly a sailor, in a new farce, by Jameson. 
 Jan. 2, 1821, Moll Flaggon; this ought to 
 have been a rich performance. A new singer, 
 Miss Wilson, was now brought forward with 
 great 6clat, in Rosetta; Justice "Woodcock, 
 Munden. His benefit took place on the 30th 
 of May, (" Secrets Worth Knowing," and, 
 " The Turnpike-Gate.") July 3rd, a Mr. 
 Mackay, from Edinburgh, appeared in Baillie 
 Nicol Jarvie. He was a very chaste actor, 
 possessing a great fund of dry humour, and 
 played the character, (in which he received the 
 high approval of Sir Walter Scott,) admirably ; 
 but was not engaged beyond a few nights. 
 
 September 20, Gattie performed Monsieur 
 Tonson, in the farce founded on John Taylor's 
 tale, and displayed extraordinary abilities in 
 the part. He was not exceeded by the late 
 Mr. Matthews in the humour of the delinea- 
 tion, and his French accent was very pure. 
 Drury Lane was, unwisely, kept open during 
 the summer. 
 
 The season 1821-2, commenced with " The 
 Dramatist. " Nov. 3, " Folly as it Flies : " 
 and on the 27th, was revived the tragedy of 
 " De Montfort." This was a play, which the 
 critic, the poet, and the general reader had 
 concurred in considering as one of the highest 
 efforts of human genius : but, unhappily, the 
 
284 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 witchery of the enchantress was confined to 
 the closet. Scott has described Miss Baillie, 
 the authoress, in glorious terms : 
 
 " She, the bold enchantress, came, 
 
 With fearless hand and heart on flame ! 
 From the pale willow snatch'd the treasure * 
 And swept it with a kindred measure, 
 Till Avon's swans, while rang the grove 
 With Montfort's hate and Basil's love, 
 Awakening at the inspired strain, 
 Deemed their own Shakespeare lived again." 
 
 Sheridan took credit to himself for having 
 recommended this tragedy to the stage Kem- 
 ble and Siddons studied the two principal parts 
 with assiduous care ; but, on its first represen- 
 tation it was listened to with cold approbation. 
 Mr. Sheridan declared in the House of Com- 
 mons that De Montfort " failed, he must say, 
 through the perverted taste of the public." 
 The noble bearing of Mrs. Siddons, in Jane de 
 Montfort, was a living commentary on the 
 text, wherein the accomplished authoress had 
 sketched her with a skilful and flattering pen, 
 as if she had sat for the model. Kemble's 
 stately person, and melancholy, expressive 
 countenance, were finely adapted to De Mont- 
 fort ; and the look of horror he displayed, 
 when, after the murder, he was brought to the 
 front of the stage, and a light held up to his 
 
 * Shakespeare's lyre. Marmion, Introduction to Canto 3. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 285 
 
 countenance, is said never to have been sur- 
 passed. Still the play failed. Yet a san- 
 guine expectation was entertained by every 
 lover of literature that, one day or other, 
 " the perverted taste of the public" would be 
 amended ; and the powers of Mr. Kean were 
 brought in aid of that desirable result. No- 
 thing could be finer than his acting, particu- 
 larly in the scene where he throws the dagger 
 against the wall. Wanting the dignity of his 
 predecessor, the open frankness of his manner 
 on the reconciliation with the object of his 
 hatred his relapse the deep remorse with 
 which he uttered the lines : 
 
 " Tis done 'tis numbered with the things o'erpast ! 
 Would ! would it were to come ! 
 
 were all that the authoress, who was present, 
 could desire. But she saw her offspring 
 " drag its slow length along " and drop a 
 lifeless corpse. It was evident that verse, 
 mighty as it is, could not compensate for want 
 of incident arising from the ethical nature of 
 the drama's construction. " De Montfort " 
 was only performed five times. 
 
 Munden played Old Dornton, Sir Francis 
 Gripe, Ephraim Smooth, Marrall ; and Febru- 
 ary 23rd 1822, General Van, in the " Vete- 
 ran," an opera, in three acts, by Mr. Knight; 
 also in the " Cure for the Heart Ache/' and 
 " Secrets worth knowing (twice acted). May 
 
286 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 18th, " John Bull " was acted, for the benefit 
 of the distressed Irish ; Mr. Dowton, who 
 had not played this season at Drury Lane, 
 offering' his services, and Mr. Johnston re- 
 turning 1 to the stage, for this night only ; the 
 farce was " Two Strings to your Bow" 
 Lazarillo, Munden ; whose engagement ex- 
 pired. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 287 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Death of Emery: benefit for his widow Munden engages 
 with Mr. Elliston for his last season Takes leave of the 
 stage on the 31st May, 1824 Account of his last perform- 
 ance, with criticisms on his acting, extracted from the 
 " Times" and " John Bull " newspapers, the New Monthly 
 and London Magazines, and the Literary Gazette Ori- 
 ginal remarks, by Hazlitt, on Munden's Dogberry Re- 
 flections on the evanescent nature of theatrical fame Some 
 account of our actor in his private capacity His profes- 
 sional habits and studies Personal anecdotes Mr. Leigh 
 Hunt's description of him Offers made to Munden to induce 
 him to return to the stage His refusal decease, Feb. 6, 
 1832 Mr. Lamb's letter to the " Athenseum," with com- 
 ments on the merits of Munden's acting A list of the parts 
 he played. 
 
 OUR actor's performances during the years 
 1822 and 1823 were not very frequent. Eme- 
 ry died in July 1822, in distressed circum- 
 stances, and " The Rivals " was represented 
 at Covent Garden for the benefit of his aged 
 parents and widow, with seven children. Mr. 
 Colman wrote an address, which was spoken 
 by Mr. Bartley. Munden played Sir Antho- 
 ny Absolute, and Messrs. Charles Kemble, 
 Young, Listen, Jones, Wilkinson, Mrs. Ed- 
 win, Mrs. Egerton, Mrs. Gibbs, Miss Kelly, 
 &c. &c., came forward with their powerful 
 
288 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 aid. Many of Munden's old parts were 
 played during his illness this season at Drury 
 Lane by Mr. Terry, who had been engaged at 
 that house ; Munden declining to study new 
 ones, as the fits of gout, which occurred more 
 frequently, and became more prolonged, ren- 
 dered him incapable of great exertion. He 
 entered into an engagement with Mr. Elliston 
 for a limited number of performances in 
 1823-4, with the avowed purpose of bringing 
 his theatrical life to a decent termination. 
 The Lessee was not insensible, as appears by 
 the subjoined letter, to the advantage which 
 was likely to arise from the exhibition of the 
 final efforts of a comedian, who formed the 
 last link between the present and the older 
 actors. 
 
 Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, 
 
 October 13, 1823. 
 My dear Sir, 
 
 I congratulate both myself and you, that the 
 arrangement for your performances with me is completed, and 
 I think that we shall shew them some of your comedies with 
 a cast, such as they have never witnessed before. 
 
 Macready makes his entree this evening, and thinking that 
 your family might like to witness a brilliant house and recep- 
 tion, I have enclosed you a ticket for a private box and 
 remain, 
 
 Dear Munden, 
 
 Yours, most sincerely, 
 
 R. W. ELLISTON. 
 To Joseph Munden, Esquire. 
 
 The season commenced on the 1st October, 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 289 
 
 with " The Rivals." Sir Anthony Absolute, 
 Munden. October 16th, he played Old Dorn- 
 ton. 18th, Sir Peter Teazle. 21st, Crack. 
 November 1st, Caustic. 3rd, Autolycus. Feb- 
 ruary 6th, 1824, Marrall. March 10th, for Mr. 
 Bunn's benefit, Nipperkin. May 15th, Old Ra- 
 pid. 20th and 22nd, Old Dornton. 25th, Sir 
 Peter Teazle. 27th, Sir Abel Handy (the 
 free list suspended). 29th, Old Dornton. 
 31st, Sir Robert Bramble, and Dozey, being for 
 his benefit and last appearance on the stage. * 
 Munden's valedictum was thus pronounced 
 by the most facetious writer of the age, in an 
 ode to Joe Grimaldi : 
 
 And, may be, 'tis no time to smother 
 
 Our griefs, when two prime wags of London 
 
 Are gone : thou Joseph, one ; the other 
 A JOE ! sic transit gloria Munden ! 
 
 The relationship between the writer and 
 his subject, suggested to him the propriety of 
 abstaining from offering opinions of his own 
 on his father's acting when he could find 
 criticisms at hand in the language of others ; 
 and he has endeavoured to be as impartial 
 as possible in the selection of extracts ; above 
 all, rendering justice to the distinguished per- 
 formers who appeared on the same scene with 
 his father, and whose generous rivalry con- 
 tributed, without doubt, largely to his success 
 The comments on Munden's acting, which 
 
 * The receipts amounted to .577 18s. 6d. 
 
 O 
 
290 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 are found from time to time in the critical 
 journals, during the course of his public life, 
 naturally multiplied towards its close, and 
 little more is now necessary than to select 
 the most able in illustration of his retirement 
 from the stage. 
 
 The ticket for admission to our actor's fare- 
 well benefit, represented a Muse, resting on a 
 lyre, and displaying an open book, with the 
 inscription " All 's Well that Ends Well. 7 ' 
 The play-bill ran as follows : 
 
 NEW THEATRE ROYAL, DRURY LANE. 
 
 For the Benefit of 
 
 MR. M U N D E N, 
 
 And positively the last night of his appearance on any stage. 
 
 This evening, Monday, May 31, 1824. 
 
 His Majesty's servants will perform the comedy of 
 
 THE POOR GENTLEMAN. 
 
 Sir Robert Bramble .... Mr. Munden. 
 
 Sir Charles Cropland . . . . . Mr. Browne. 
 
 Lieutenant Worthington .... Mr. Powell. 
 
 Frederick Mr. Elliston. 
 
 Ollapod Mr. Harley. 
 
 Corporal Foss Mr. Oxberry. 
 
 (His only appearance this season.) 
 
 Farmer Harrowby Mr. Sherwin. 
 
 Stephen Harrowby . . . Mr. Knight. 
 
 Humphrey Dobbins Mr. Gattie. 
 
 Warner Mr. Webster. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 291 
 
 Valet Mr. Tumour. 
 
 Emily Worthington .... Mrs. W. West. 
 
 Miss Lucretia Mac Tali .... Mrs. Harlowe. 
 
 Dame Harrowby . ... Miss Green. 
 
 Mary . . .' . . . . Miss Carr. 
 
 In the course of the evening the following entertainments. 
 The favourite Ballad of " Kelvin Grove," by 
 
 MR. BRAHAM. 
 
 The admired song, " Bid me discourse," by 
 MISS STEPHENS. 
 
 A CHINESE DIVERTISEMENT. 
 
 The principal characters by 
 Mr. Noble. Mrs. Noble. 
 
 Mr. Oscar Byrne, Mrs. Oscar Byrne. 
 
 And the whole of the corps de ballet. 
 
 In the course of the evening 
 
 MR. MUNDEN 
 Will attempt to take leave of his friends and the public. 
 
 To conclude with the admired farce of 
 PAST TEN O'CLOCK AND A RAINY NIGHT. 
 
 Sir Peter Punctual . .' . . . Mr. Hughes. 
 
 Old Snaps Mr. Gattie. 
 
 Young Snaps Mr. Webster. 
 
 Captain Wildfire , Mr. Marcin. 
 
 Harry Punctual Mr. Penley. 
 
 Corporal Squib Mr. Fitzwilliam. 
 
 Bantam Mr. Knight. 
 
 Old Dozey . . . . .- . Mr. Munden. 
 
 Nancy Miss Cubitt. 
 
 Lucy . v ...'-'' . . . Miss S. Booth. 
 Silence . .,. ; , . . . . Mrs. Harlowe. 
 
 o2 
 
292 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 DRURY LANE THEATRE. 
 
 " Mr. Munden last night concluded his long, meritorious, and 
 successful theatrical career. He has retired into the bosom of 
 private life before his consummate talents had been impaired 
 by time. The interest which this event excited, and the 
 excessively crowded audience which it caused to assemble, 
 proved incontestably the high estimation in which his social 
 virtues and his scenic talents were held by the public. He 
 has quitted the stage to enjoy a competency honourably 
 acquired, attended by 
 
 That which should accompany old age, 
 
 As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends. 
 
 "Mr. Munden chose, for his farewell benefit, Colman's 
 comedy of The Poor Gentleman, in which he supported the 
 character of Sir "Robert Bramble. He does not appear until 
 the third act, and the moment he presented himself to the 
 audience, boxes, pit, and galleries vied with each other in the 
 manifestation of a sincere and hearty respect. The audience 
 in the pit rose simultaneously, and received the veteran with 
 loud cheering, while hats and handkerchiefs were waving in all 
 directions. Mr. Munden advanced to the stage lights, and 
 expressed his gratitude by repeatedly bowing, and placing his 
 hand on his heart. He was affected even to tears; and he 
 could not, for some time after the storm of applause had 
 subsided, command his feelings sufficiently to proceed with 
 his part. When, however, he resumed his self-collection, and 
 rallied his scattered powers, he displayed as great a portion of 
 rich, genuine, comic humour, as he had ever on any occasion 
 delighted an audience with. He entered most happily into 
 the whimsical spirit which distinguishes the eccentric baronet, 
 and where his kind feelings are aroused by the contemplation 
 of the possibility that his beloved nephew may, perhaps, fall in 
 his rencontre with Sir Charles Cropland, his performance was 
 truly pathetic. It was this versatility of talent which ranked 
 Mr. Munden so high in his profession. Other men may excel 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 293 
 
 in a particular department, but he excelled in all. The 
 humorous and good-natured, as well as the testy and queru- 
 lous old gentleman, the ancient lover, the dupe of anti- 
 quarian credulity, the feeling and affectionate father, the 
 drunken son of Crispin ; all these characters, various and dis- 
 similar as they are, found in him an admirable representative. 
 He ran through the whole compass of comedy, and was every- 
 where original and everywhere successful. His closing per- 
 formance did not at all derogate from his well-established 
 fame. It was attended throughout with peals of laughter, and 
 at its conclusion the applause was warm and long-continued. 
 Mr. Elliston sustained the character of Frederick Bramble with 
 an unusual degree of ease and vivacity. We have not seen 
 this excellent actor to so much advantage for a considerable 
 time. He was all life and animation. Mr. Knight's Stephen 
 Harrowby and the Ollapod of Mr. Harley were exceedingly 
 amusing. Mrs. W. West made a tolerably good Emily Wor- 
 thington. The part of Miss Lucretia, that ' bit of nobility 
 fallen into decay,' was performed with spirit by Mrs. Harlowe. 
 The play was succeeded by Dibdin's farce of Past Ten o' Clock, 
 in which Mr. Munden supported the character of Dozey with 
 inimitable effect. In the tavern scene, he gave as a toast 
 1 the health of old Joe Munden's friends.' This sally pro- 
 duced an immensity of applause. At the conclusion of the 
 entertainments Mr. Munden came forward amidst shouts of 
 approbation. His feelings for a time appeared to choke his 
 utterance. He at length mustered up resolution, and, silence 
 being obtained, he spoke as follows : 
 
 ****** 
 " During the delivery of this address Mr. Munden appeared to 
 be most sensibly affected. The tears which flowed, in spite of 
 all his efforts, and his broken and tremulous tones, showed, 
 plainly enough, that here he was not acting. The scene was 
 extremely impressive, and the effect produced on the audi- 
 ence was touchingly powerful. Every part of his farewell 
 address was received with demonstrations of unfeigned regard. 
 
294 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 At its conclusion, Mr. Munden retired amongst a number of 
 his brother performers who were on the stage; but after the 
 curtain had fallen he again came forward, bowed repeatedly to 
 the audience, and then left the stage, leaning on the arm of 
 Mr. Knight. Amongst the audience, which was almost un- 
 precedently crowded, we observed many of the principal per- 
 formers of the winter theatres." The Times newspaper, June 
 1, 1824. 
 
 " As we last week stated, Mr. Munden took his leave of the 
 public on Monday, at Drury Lane Theatre, in the character of 
 Sir Robert Bramble, a part adapted by the masterly hand of 
 Colman to his great and powerful talents ; he never played it 
 better; the performance was like a fine picture, the tints of 
 which, so far from being injured, were only mellowed by time, 
 and gave us not merely a sensation of regret that we were to 
 lose such an actor, but that he had chosen to withdraw himself 
 while yet in the meridian of his excellence." John Bull news- 
 paper. 
 
 MR. MUNDEN. 
 
 " The 31st of May will be long remembered in the annals of 
 the stage; for on that day Munden quitted it for ever. His 
 purpose was announced at the commencement of the season, 
 but his energy was so unbroken, his spirits so fresh, and his 
 humour so mellow, that we could scarcely believe he would 
 fulfil it. He persevered, however, in his resolution, in spite of 
 the remonstrances of his friends and the regrets of the public, 
 and, after playing a few of his happiest parts, in his happiest 
 manner, took his last leave at his benefit, before one of the 
 most brilliant audiences which ever graced a theatre. The 
 pit, the galleries, and the slips, were crowded almost to suffo- 
 cation at the opening of the doors ; the three circles of boxes 
 were lined with elegantly dressed ladies, and the very lobbies 
 were filled with a number of eager amateurs, who watched for 
 the chance of catching one more glimpse of the old and true 
 comedian whom they could never see again. He played Sir 
 Robert Bramble in ' The Poor Gentleman,' and Dozey, in 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 295 
 
 1 Past Ten o'clock,' as well, if not better, than he ever gave 
 either of those masterpieces of comedy and farce ; and, at the 
 end, came forward and delivered the following modest and 
 sensible address in a tremulous voice : 
 
 1 Ladies and Gentlemen, 
 
 ' The moment is now arrived when I have' to perform the 
 painful duty of bidding you farewell. When I call to remem- 
 brance that five-and-thirty years have elapsed since I first had 
 the honour of appearing before you, I am forcibly reminded 
 that I ought to leave the scene for younger and gayer spirits to 
 mingle in. But it is not easy to shake off in a moment the 
 habits of years; and you will, I know, pardon me if I am 
 tedious, since it is for the last time. I carry with me into 
 private life the deep and indelible remembrance of that kind, 
 that liberal indulgence with which you have at all times 
 regarded my humble efforts to amuse. I feel that I am ' poor 
 in thanks/ but your kindness is registered here, (laying his 
 hand on his heart,) " and will never be forgotten. And should 
 the recurrence of early association occasionally bring back the 
 veteran comedian to your remembrance, he will ask for no 
 higher fame. I thank you most sincerely, ladies and gentle- 
 men, for the patience with which you have listened to me, and 
 I now bid you a respectful, a grateful, and a last adieu.' 
 
 " This address was received with loud cheers and expressions 
 of cordial sympathy and regret from all parts of the house. 
 At its close, several of the chief actors in the company ap- 
 peared on the stage to greet and support their friend, whose 
 excellencies were appreciated by none more thoroughly than 
 the members of his own profession. As the curtain was fall- 
 ing, he once more came forward to make his last bow, and 
 close his honourable career, among the highest testimonies of 
 esteem which the public can pay. They seemed to feel their 
 incapacity to express their full sense of his powers, and we 
 now feel inadequate to describe them. 
 
 " Mr. Munden was by far the greatest comedian we ever saw ; 
 
296 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 his vein of humour was the richest and most peculiar ; his 
 range of character the most extensive ; his discrimination the 
 most exact and happy, and his finishing the most elaborate and 
 complete. He received great advantages from nature, and 
 improved them to the utmost by vigilant observation and 
 laborious study. His power of face was the most extraordi- 
 nary; for he had no singularity of feature no lucky squint or 
 mechanical grin ; but the features which, when at rest, befitted 
 well the sedate merchant or baronet of the old school, assumed, 
 at his will, the strangest and the most fantastic forms. This 
 almost creative faculty was associated with another power of an 
 opposite kind the capability of imparting to every variety of 
 form a substance and apparent durability as if it were carved 
 out of a rock. His action had no less body than flavour. In 
 the wildest parts of farce he every minute put forth some living 
 fantasy of his own, some new arrangement of features, crea- 
 tions among which Momus would have hesitated long which 
 he should choose for his own proper use, as embodying most 
 general traits of comic feeling. Any one of these hundred 
 faces might serve as a model of a mask for the old Greek 
 comedy ; and looked as immovable while it lasted. And yet 
 this marvellous power of spreading out before the eye the 
 products of a rich comic imagination this working out of 
 breathing faces, which Aristophanes would have been pleased 
 to gaze on, was set down as vulgar grimace by those who 
 fancy the perfection of one excellence implies the absence of 
 all others ; and who will not be persuaded, even by their senses, 
 that the same man can be Nipperkin and Dornton. 
 
 "Although Mr. Munden's humour and his flexibility of 
 countenance were the gifts which chiefly distinguished him 
 from others, he shared largely in that pathos which belongs in 
 a greater or less degree to all true comedians. It is natural 
 that a strong relish for the ludicrous should be accompanied 
 by a genuine pathos, as both arise from quick sensibility to the 
 peculiarities of our fellow-men, and the joys and sorrows by 
 which they are affected. Those who are endowed with such 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 297 
 
 qualities, too often presume upon their strength, and rely on 
 the individual effects which they can produce in their happiest 
 moods. But Mr. Munden had a higher sense of the value of 
 his art than to leave his success to accident, or to rest con- 
 tented with doing something to make an audience laugh or 
 weep without reference to the precise nature of the conception 
 which he professed to embody. He studied his parts, in the 
 best sense of the term, and with as careful and minute atten- 
 tion as though he were the driest and most mechanical of 
 actors. When he had fully mastered the outlines of a part, 
 he cast into it just so much of his resources of humour or of 
 feeling as was necessary to give it genial life, and to discrimi- 
 nate its finest shades, and never enough to destroy its indivi- 
 duality, or melt down its distinctive features. In nothing did 
 he more delightfully exhibit his skill than in the little sprink- 
 lings of humour which he threw into his sedater parts, endear- 
 ing and familiarizing them to us, yet never allowing us to 
 abate a jot of the respect or sympathy which they were in- 
 tended to awaken. Thus, in his Old Dornton, the pleasantries 
 scattered through the part always served to heighten the 
 images of paternal love with which it was fraught, as in the 
 fond return to bid the profligate son ' Good night ;' the in- 
 terview with the Widow Warren ; and the expression of plea- 
 sure on hearing the story of the tradesman, ' and so Harry has 
 been your friend ? ' a little touch of familiar nature never ex- 
 ceeded on the stage. Those who had seen his face twisted 
 into a thousand forms all drunken in Nipperkin, all impu- 
 dent in Crack, all chuckling wonder in Cockletop might well 
 be surprised, not so much to witness its decent gravity, but to 
 find it just lighted up and twinkling with humour, just ani- 
 mated by a sense of the ludicrous, but never betraying an 
 emotion inconsistent with the habits of the staid and wealthy 
 banker. Great as his capacities were, he held them always in 
 subservience to the requisitions of his author ; and hence arose 
 the uncommon variety and freshness of his characters. Hence 
 also, it happened, that instead of falling off in age, as all actors 
 
 00 
 
298 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 must do who play merely from impulse, he grew more perfect 
 and mellow in time, and identified himself more closely with 
 the persons whom he represented, the oftener he played them. 
 He did not merely give a certain quantity of passion or hu- 
 mour, and think he had done enough ; but he considered the 
 exact kind of passion or humour to be displayed, colouring but 
 not hiding the emotions of the heart by the habits of the life, 
 and softening the oddities he pourtrayed by associating them 
 with those common feelings to which they were most neafrly 
 allied. Thus his pathos in the duel scene of Sir Robert 
 Bramble partook of the positiveness and argumentative tone 
 of the part ; while in Old Dornton it bordered on kindly do- 
 tage. We have seen him play three drunken parts in a night, 
 and come out fresh in them all : and such was his practical 
 discrimination, that we could not have transferred a tone or a 
 stagger without injury to the inebriate sarcasms of Crack, the 
 maudlin philanthropy of Nipperkin, or the sublime stupidity of 
 Dozey ! His expression of wonder, again, in which he greatly 
 excelled, was as various as the occasion from the wild amaze- 
 ment of the Cobbler of Preston at his grandeur, down to the 
 delighted chuckle of Crack at the singular fact that 'some 
 gentleman had left his liquor.' What a gallery of comic pic- 
 tures might be copied from that one scene in * The Poor Gen- 
 tleman,' where the wayward baronet is taken for a bailiff 
 each look being in itself a study ! What a succession of happy 
 faces, all full of amazement, did he coin in Cockletop, as he 
 expatiated over his imaginary treasures ! What a planet- 
 stricken air had he in Foresight, in ' Love for Love ! ' What 
 intense astonishment, mixed with comic pleasure, in Sir Abel 
 Handy, where the stranger calls to his termagant wife to fol- 
 low, and the vixen obeys ! How he stood lost in admiration, 
 unconsciously mimicking the words, ' Come ! come ! ' till he 
 awoke to a full sense of his happiness, and danced about the 
 stage, offering to make up a party to the Isle of Wight, or 
 Jerusalem, or the Land's End ! In his sailors a class gene- 
 rally represented under very broad characteristics there was 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 299 
 
 the same discrimination exhibited ; and his Mainmast differed 
 from his Captain Bertram, and each from his Dozey, much 
 more than the Shylock from the Hamlet of some successful 
 tragedians. His Dozey, which was the last part he ever played, 
 was perhaps the most extraordinary of all his personifications. 
 This old tar ignorant, stupified with age and grog seemed 
 absolutely grand in the robustness of his frame and the rolling 
 self-satisfaction of his gait, as one who had out-braved 'a 
 thousand storms, a thousand thunders.' It was indeed a 
 triumph of art, when the old enthusiasm of this stout-hearted 
 and thick-headed veteran was kindled up, and he gave his ani- 
 mated description of a battle, ending with the wave of his 
 handkerchief for the English flag, and cheering with all the 
 energy of youth : a more characteristic picture was never exhi- 
 bited in the drollest farce ; nor was ever a truer or a nobler 
 burst of feeling called forth in the stateliest tragedy. 
 
 " In retiring from the stage, while his power was undimi- 
 nished, Mr. Munden acted consistently with the whole tenor 
 of his life. It is a great sacrifice for an actor, who has been 
 accustomed for many years to excite and to receive the sym- 
 pathy of thousands, to retire for ever from their view. But that 
 high sense of his art which enabled him to achieve so much, 
 inspired him also to forego a pleasure which might possibly be 
 purchased by the loss of a portion of his fame, or an inward 
 consciousness that he was falling from the standard of excel- 
 lence set up in his own mind. In all human probability he 
 might have continued for several years to display undiminished 
 excellence ; but sickness or accident might have prevented him 
 from ending his career worthily ; and he determined to fore- 
 stall them. He has chosen to depend at once on the grateful 
 recollections of those whom he has delighted so long, and 
 assuredly he will have his reward. May he long live to enjoy 
 it ! " New Monthly Magazine, for May, 1824. 
 
 This criticism, as ingenious as it is elo- 
 quent, was attributed, at the time, to Mr. Tal- 
 
300 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 fourd (now Mr. Serjeant Talfourd). The 
 next bears intrinsic evidence of the quaint 
 and pointed style of Charles Lamb. 
 
 MR. MUNDEN. 
 
 " The regular play-goers ought to put on mourning, for the 
 king of broad comedy is dead to the drama ! Alas ! Munden 
 is no more! 'give sorrow vent!' He may yet walk the 
 town pace the pavement in a seeming existence eat, drink, 
 and nod to his friends in all the affectation of life but Mun- 
 den the Munden ! Munden, with the bunch of countenances 
 the banquet of faces, is gone for ever from the lamps ; and, 
 as far as comedy is concerned, is as dead as Garrick ! When 
 an actor retires, (we will put the suicide as mild as possible,) 
 how many worthy persons perish with him ! with Munden, 
 Sir Peter Teazle must experience a shock Sir Robert Bramble 
 gives up the ghost ; Crack ceases to breathe. Without Mun- 
 den, what becomes of Dozey ? Where shall we seek Jemmy 
 Jumps ? Nipperkin, and a thousand of such admirable fooleries 
 fall to nothing and the departure, therefore, of such an actor 
 as Munden is a dramatic calamity. 
 
 " On the night that this inestimable humourist took farewell 
 of the public, he also took his benefit : a benefit in which 
 the public assuredly did not participate ! The play was Col- 
 man's c Poor Gentleman,' with Tom Dibdin's farce of ( Past 
 Ten o'Clock.' Reader, we all know Munden in Sir Robert 
 Bramble, and old tobacco-complexioned Dozey ; we have all 
 seen the old hearty baronet in his light sky-blue coat and 
 genteel cocked hat ; and we have all seen the weather-beaten 
 old pensioner, dear old Dozey, tacking about the stage in that 
 intenser blue sea-livery drunk as heart could wish, and right 
 valorous in memory. On this night Munden seemed, like 
 the gladiator, ' to rally life's whole energies to die ;' and, as 
 we were present at this great display of his powers, and, as 
 this will be the last opportunity that will ever be afforded us 
 to speak of this admirable performer, we shall ' consecrate,' as 
 old John Buncle says, ' a paragraph to him.' 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 301 
 
 " The house was full -.full ! pshaw ! that *s an empty 
 word ! The house was stuffed crammed with people, 
 crammed from the swing-door of the pit to the back seat in 
 the banished one shilling. A quart of audience may be said 
 (vintner-like may it be said) to have been squeezed into a pint 
 of theatre. Every hearty play-going Londoner, who remem- 
 bered Munden years agone, mustered up his courage and his 
 money for this benefit and middle-aged people were, there- 
 fore, by no means scarce. The comedy chosen for the occa- 
 sion, is one that travels a long way without a guard ; it is not 
 until the third or fourth act, we rather think, that Sir Robert 
 Bramble appears on the stage. When he entered, his recep- 
 tion was earnest, noisy, outrageous, waving of hats and 
 handkerchiefs ; deafening shouts ; clamorous beating of 
 sticks ; all the various ways in which the heart is accustomed 
 to manifest its joy were had recourse to on this occasion. Mrs. 
 Bamfield worked away with a sixpenny fan till she scudded 
 only under bare poles. Mr. Whittington wore out the ferule 
 of a new nine-and-sixpenny umbrella. Gratitude did great 
 damage on the joyful occasion. 
 
 " The old performer, the veteran, as he appropriately called 
 himself in the farewell speech, was plainly overcome ; he 
 pressed his hands together he planted one solidly on his 
 breast he bowed he sidled he cried ! When the noise 
 subsided (which it invariably does at last), the comedy pro- 
 ceeded and Munden gave an admirable picture of the rich, 
 eccentric, charitable old bachelor baronet. 
 
 " In the farce he became richer and richer. Old Dozey is 
 a plant from Greenwich. The bronzed face and neck to 
 match the long curtain of a coat the straggling white hair, 
 the propensity, the determined attachment to grog are all 
 from Greenwich. Munden, as Dozey, seems never to have 
 been out of action, sun, and drink. He looks (alas ! he looked) 
 fire-proof. His face and throat were dried like a raisin and 
 his legs walked under the rum-and-water with all the indeci- 
 sion which that inestimable beverage usually inspires. It is 
 
302 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 truly tacking, not walking. He steers at a table, and the tide 
 of grog now and then bears him off the point. On this night he 
 seemed to us to be doomed to fall in action, and we, therefore, 
 looked at him, as some of the Victory's crew are said to have 
 gazed upon Nelson, with a consciousness that his ardour and 
 his uniform were worn for the last time. In the scene where 
 Dozey describes a sea-fight, the actor never was greater, and 
 he seemed the personification of an old seventy-four ! His 
 coat hung like a flag.at his poop ! His phiz was not a whit less 
 highly coloured than one of those lustrous visages that gene- 
 rally superintend the head of a ship ! There was something 
 cumbrous, indecisive, and awful in his veerings ! Once afloat, it 
 appeared impossible for him to come to his moorings ; once at 
 anchor, it did not seem an easy thing to get him under weigh !" 
 London Magazine, May, 1824. 
 
 DRURY LANE. 
 
 " On Monday evening, Colman's comedy of the ' Poor 
 Gentleman' was performed for Mr. Munden's benefit ; and, as 
 this was announced to be his last appearance, we were not at 
 all surprised to find that the theatre was crowded to suffocation, 
 and to learn that hundreds who were anxious to take a fare- 
 well look at this inimitable comedian, had been sent away 
 from the doors disappointed and defeated of their purpose. 
 After enjoying a large portion of the public favour for fotir- 
 and-thirty years after having, during the whole of that period, 
 revelled in their smiles, and been cheered by their applauses, 
 the consciousness that he was meeting his friends and patrons 
 for the last time, and that after this night the gladdening 
 sounds that had so often reached his ears would never visit 
 them again, must have excited in him feelings, of the intensity 
 of which no man but an actor can form a just estimate ; and it 
 is no wonder, therefore, that both at his entrance and his retire- 
 ment he was completely overpowered, and that tears alone 
 should have afforded him relief. To do justice to Mr. Mun- 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 303 
 
 den's talents in his profession is no easy task. He was the most 
 indefatigable actor we ever saw. He did not trust upon occa- 
 sions to his acknowledged popularity, to the high esteem in 
 which he was held by the public, or to the humour which his 
 fine countenance displayed to get him through a part, but he 
 studied attentively every line and every word that was set 
 down for him ; and his dramatic portraits were not only dis- 
 tinct and separate from each other, but were all of them finely 
 touched and most exquisitely finished. To speak only of a 
 few of his favourite characters, we would recall to mind the 
 variety he always displayed in his assumptions of old age. 
 What could be more varied than the different manners which 
 marked his Sir Peter Teazle, his Old Dornton, and his Sir 
 Francis Gripe? The gentlemanly deportment, the freedom 
 from suspicion, the boundless confidence of the first ; the 
 pathos, the overflowings of paternal tenderness, of affection for 
 his son, almost degenerating into a crime, of the second ; even 
 the cunning usurious expression, and amorous propensities, of 
 the third. Look at the difference between his Polonius and 
 his Peachum : the former bearing the stamp of true nobility, 
 exhibiting what was once a capacious mind giving way gra- 
 dually before the encroachments of infirmity and age ; and the 
 latter, sordid, avaricious, hardened in guilt, and subsisting upon 
 the vices of his fellow-creatures. What shall we say of his 
 representation of the naval character? Where can we find 
 three personations more distinct than his three sailors of diffe- 
 rent kinds, his Dozey, his Mainmast, and his Captain Ber- 
 tram ? Do they in the slightest degree resemble one another ? 
 or, rather, is not each a distinct species in itself? And last, 
 although not least, when shall we find his equal in such parts 
 as Cockletop, Nipperkin, and Crack? Other actors have 
 appeared in more than one line of character, and other actors 
 have amused us with the breadth and richness of their humour ; 
 but we have no recollection of any actor in our times, who has 
 exhibited so much variety of talent, and in whom that variety 
 has been so thoroughly and satisfactorily displayed. He 
 
304 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 always practised his art as if he loved it ; and his great delight 
 was to do his utmost and his best, both for his author and his 
 audience. The curtain, however, has now shut him from our 
 view, and we are reluctantly compelled to take our leave of 
 him. The good sense he has always shown through life, accom- 
 panies him in his retirement. He is too wise to remain upon 
 the stage until ' his waning lamp lacks oil/ and thus become 
 the ' scoff of younger spirits ;' but he retires in the plenitude 
 of his powers, and the full enjoyment of his brilliant talents. 
 Farewell, then, thou favoured of Thalia! thou, with whom 
 our earliest dramatic pleasures are associated and connected ; 
 long mayest thou enjoy the fruits of thy honest industry ; long 
 mayest thou be cherished, as thou well deservest to be, by thy 
 companions and thy friends. 
 
 " ' So may'st thou live till, like fruit, thou drop 
 Into thy mother's lap, or be with ease 
 Gather'd, not harshly plucked, for death mature.' " 
 
 Literary Gazette. 
 
 ON THE DOGBERRY OF MUNDEN, FROM A MS. BY HAZLITT. 
 
 " The comedy of ' Much Ado about Nothing ' has not been 
 much acted of late years. Whether this arises from any thing 
 in the progress of taste, or from the decay of the stage, and 
 the want of actors to give effect to the characters, we shall not 
 pretend to determine. There is at least one character in this 
 play (and that not the least important) which is still well and 
 efficiently performed. Dogberry is a character suited to the 
 genius of Mr. Munden : nor can we here help expressing an 
 opinion, that if this very original and whimsical performer had 
 been oftener put into the comic characters of Shakespeare, and 
 less confined to those of modern farce, his reputation as an 
 actor would have stood even higher than it does at present. 
 For he is not a mere mimic or caricaturist of what he sees ; 
 but he carries his imagination along with him into the un- 
 known regions of absurdity, unfolds the slenderest verbal con- 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 305 
 
 ceit by a portentous breadth of visage ; makes a jest where 
 there is none, by standing aghast at his own want of appre- 
 hension ; and may be considered as a very unaccountable 
 hieroglyphic of the profoundest no meaning. His face is a 
 riddle ; and his voice naturally gabbles contradictions, and 
 flounders into evasions. His Dogberry is two centuries old ; 
 and we should hope that his name will live two centuries more, 
 that posterity may pay off the debt of gratitude owing to him 
 by his cotemporaries ! " 
 
 In turning 1 over the pages wherein we have 
 noticed the rise and departure of the most 
 celebrated performers who shed a lustre over 
 the close of the last, and first quarter of the 
 present century, we read with a melancholy 
 curiosity the long catalogue of names, all fa- 
 mous in their day, most of whom have disap- 
 peared from the stage of life, and not one of 
 whom will again appear on that stage, the 
 peculiar sphere of their brightness : 
 
 Like the lost Pleiad, seen no more below." 
 Shuter, Yates, Parsons, Edwin, Quick, Suett, 
 "Wilson, (Miss) Young, (Miss) Farren, John 
 Palmer, Crawford, Abington, Smith, Lewis, 
 Mattocks, Cooke, Siddons, Jordan, O'Neil, 
 Bannister, Incledon, Johnstone, Emery, and 
 Keinble have departed from us in succession. 
 Few of the earlier names in this extended list 
 are known to the present generation but by 
 report : the fame of their immediate succes- 
 sors is fast fading into oblivion : to the next 
 generation the echo of their fame will scarcely 
 be audible ; and to that common oblivion will 
 
306 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 be consigned the memory of their cotemporary, 
 and, in some instances, their successful rival 
 Joseph Munden. 
 
 The reader will reasonably expect to be 
 informed what became of the man who had 
 filled so large a space in the public vision, 
 now that he had ceased to have a public exist- 
 ence what were his habits, his amusements 
 in early and in after life; and the whole his- 
 tory of the eight years which elapsed from the 
 date of his retirement from the stage, until he 
 yielded up his mortal being. In the very na- 
 ture of things it is impossible to furnish much 
 information on such a subject. Actors " come 
 like shadows, so depart ;" they are nothing if 
 not acting : on them, whilst on the stage, 
 
 " the public gaze 
 Is fixed for ever to detract or praise." 
 
 But with the mass of their audience they have 
 only a scenic existence, and are better known 
 as the admired Hamlet, Richard, and Dr. Cant- 
 well of the day, than as Mr. Kemble, Mr. 
 Kean, or Mr. Dowton. Of Munden little 
 more can be said than that, to borrow Mr. 
 Lamb's language, " he walked the town, paced 
 the pavement, ate, drank, and nodded to his 
 friends." His infirmities prevented him from 
 mixing much in society ; latterly, they con- 
 fined him, for months together, to his bed, and 
 almost always to his room. He was accus- 
 tomed, when health permitted, to pass some 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 307 
 
 time in the summer season, in Wiltshire, with 
 his kind daughter Alice, who, as well as her 
 husband and his relatives, did every thing to 
 contribute to her father's comfort. After 
 her death he rarely left his home. His chief 
 amusement was skimming over the newspa- 
 pers indeed he read nothing else : we doubt 
 whether he had ever in his life-time read a 
 book throughout, excepting a play-book. The 
 quantity of matter he had been required to 
 study, when engaged in his profession, and to 
 repeat, occasionally with short notice, and at 
 intervals, made him averse from burthening 
 his memory with any subject foreign to his 
 pursuits. But that memory was very reten- 
 tive ; and, largely as he had mixed in society, 
 it was not surprising that he had amassed a 
 deal of information. The ambition of attain- 
 ing excellence, which had raised him to so high 
 a rank in his profession, rendered him careful 
 not to forfeit it by an error in pronunciation 
 or defective emphasis, and his good sense sug- 
 gested the means of information. He was 
 punctual at rehearsals. In his early days 
 rehearsals were held frequently, both of new 
 plays and revivals ; and in cases where much 
 was expected from the performance, it was not 
 unusual to have a dress rehearsal. Mr. Har- 
 ris, who prided himself upon the perfect man- 
 ner in which his Christmas pantomimes (great 
 sources of emolument) were brought forward, 
 
SOS MEMOIRS OF 
 
 always had them represented in his presence, 
 before they were submitted to an audience. 
 
 At a later period, a comedy was sometimes 
 read in the green room one day, rehearsed the 
 next day, and played the day after. The per- 
 formers came upon the scene as if they had 
 never seen each other before, each intent upon 
 his particular part only ; and hence that per- 
 fect grouping 1 , and harmony of action, the 
 effect of which the public, without being 
 aware of the preparation, had formerly so ad- 
 mired, was totally lost sight of. Munden was 
 most attentive to his stage engagements; 
 we remember but one instance in which he 
 was absent when wanted, with the exception, 
 of course, of actual illness sham illnesses he 
 disdained to resort to. On the occasion in 
 question he was advertised in two farces, and 
 they were represented in an order different 
 from that in which they were printed in the 
 bill of the preceding day. He explained to 
 the satisfaction of the audience that as he re- 
 sided out of town, and had not been apprised 
 of the change in the representation, he had 
 come to the theatre at the precise hour when 
 he thought his services were required. He 
 seldom needed the prompter, and was never 
 imperfect. The critics are right in assuming 
 that he studied deeply and carefully. He was, 
 unless engaged at rehearsal, a late riser, and 
 meditated for hours in bed. He repeated his 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 309 
 
 new parts to his wife, in whose judgment he 
 placed a deserved confidence, and who, being 
 a diligent reader, was of service to him by her 
 knowledge of books. If Munden had not re- 
 course to authors, except dramatic, he had 
 little inclination to take up the pen himself. He 
 wrote only letters upon business, and as few 
 as needful ; but he expressed his meaning 
 clearly, with terseness and propriety. It has 
 been noticed that he wrote a very fine hand, 
 and till within a few years of his death his sig- 
 nature was firm and neat. He was not fond 
 of parting with his money ; and, when the dif- 
 ficulty he had experienced in acquiring it is 
 taken into consideration, it is not surprising 
 that he should have retained it with a strong 
 hold. Strange to say, he once lent Tom Dib- 
 din an hundred pounds, and stranger still, 
 Tom repaid the sum. Munden lived in no 
 golden days. When he was a young actor, 
 his salary was low, and the habits of the soci- 
 ety in which he mixed were convivial and ex- 
 pensive. He began by spending, and ended 
 with hoarding. Few of us can avoid extremes, 
 and, if the truth must be told, the final result 
 was parsimony. Many humorous stories are 
 told of his addiction to this " good old gentle- 
 manly vice:" the best is that, after he quitted 
 the stage, meeting an old acquaintance, he 
 was solicited to bestow upon his admirer some 
 relic of so great an actor : he is represented 
 
310 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 to have gravely tendered his old cotton um- 
 brella in exchange for the handsome silk one 
 of his enthusiastic friend. This was told by 
 the late Mr. Yates, in one of his entertain- 
 ments, with an imitation of the actor's peculiar 
 manner. Munden was very wroth, and would 
 not speak to Yates, denying the fact ; whether 
 it was true or not is of little consequence, 
 since it is a good story; and in such cases 
 one is not disposed to say magis arnica veritas. 
 This same umbrella was exhibited in a paint- 
 ing of the green room, we think, by Sharp, 
 wherein the performers are represented in 
 their private dresses at rehearsal. The like- 
 ness of Munden is a good one, and that of his 
 umbrella perfect. It was not like " Mr. 
 Whittington's, a new nine-and-sixpenny um- 
 brella," but an old five-and-sixpenny, with the 
 thin whale-bones bent from their position ; 
 and when the writer looked at the picture 
 he would have made affidavit to the umbrel- 
 la's identity. Still, though Munden was near, 
 he was very honest. He payed slowly, but 
 he paid surely ; and the debts, remaining at his 
 death, were comparatively trifling. For another 
 story, w^hich is well told, we suspect he was 
 indebted to Mr. Leigh Hunt. It is likely 
 enough to be true, for he was fond of good 
 eating, though he did not keep a very luxuri- 
 ous table at home. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUM DEN. 311 
 
 The heart and the stomach seem to have had fair play in 
 Munden. A gentleman told us, some years ago, that he was 
 on board an Indiaman, when Munden came into the vessel to 
 meet a son, whom he had not seen for a long time, and who 
 was expected every moment up the river. There happened 
 to be no better refreshment to set before him than hung beef, 
 which he sat down to and eat heartily, exclaiming every mo- 
 ment with the emphasis of his stage accent : " Excellent hung 
 beef ! " Meantime his son comes up the river, and is descried 
 by Munden, who getting up, still eating the beef (which had 
 been served to him on deck) cries out, between eating and 
 weeping, "My boy! my dear boy!" 
 
 The paper (The Plain Dealer) whence we 
 have extracted the above anecdote, contains a 
 description of Munden's manner and features 
 late in life which is correct and characteristic. 
 
 The only time we ever met him, which was at the house of 
 an acquaintance, we had not been in the room with him two 
 minutes before he gave us an amusing instance of the reality 
 of his impressions, and the way in which fact and fiction were 
 identified in him, or rather his stage life and his other life, if 
 other it could be called. This is the case indeed with most 
 actors, as it well may be, their stage existence being a thing 
 so much more vivid and applauded than what they share in 
 common with other men. We told him that the last time we 
 had the pleasure of seeing him, was in the character of one of 
 the clowns in the Recruiting Sergeant ; but that we did not 
 recollect the name : upon which, though it was only last sum- 
 mer, and he had just been telling us of his age and infirmities, 
 he jumped up from his seat, and throwing himself into the 
 clown's attitude, exclaimed, with all his stage face and man- 
 ner, " Costar Pearmain !" Before dinner, our host issuing 
 
312 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 forth to show us his grounds, the old man was so lively, that 
 he must needs deprive him of the office of master of the cere- 
 monies ; and though he could not go down the garden steps 
 without help, and ought to have been wheeled about in a 
 chair, which was at hand for him, he accompanied us to this 
 spot and to that, pointing out the beauties of the prospect, 
 and working himself up into such a state of enjoyment, that 
 our friend thought proper to use a little hospitable compulsion, 
 and force him into the chair. When he got in doors he 
 talked of the stage all the evening,* and evidently had no 
 other idea in his head, though he willingly listened to any 
 thing that others said, and occasionally gave a faint grin, or a 
 livelier twist of his eye-brows ; and now and then he puffed a 
 little in the manner above described (like a man trying his 
 pipe) : and he was always ready to wonder. 
 
 It was fine to see astonishment not burnt out of him, at so 
 late a period in life. He understood a good dish, and manege 
 of a saddle of mutton ; and he drank his wine pretty freely 
 " considering." Gout helped to shorten his life ; yet he lived 
 to a good age ; and what are actors to do in their retirement, 
 after being used to a life of excitement 1 Somebody at dinner 
 speaking of the extravagant expenditure of George the Fourth 
 and his brother the Duke of York, Munden said, with un- 
 affected solemnity of countenance, that he understood they 
 " never could learn the value of money." His profile was not 
 good, when he looked grave. There was something close, 
 carking, and even severe in it ; but it was redeemed by his 
 
 * He did so, no doubt, in deference to Mr. Hunt's literary 
 reputation and knowledge of theatrical matters ; but there 
 was no subject on which Munden was more averse from con- 
 versing in ordinary society than the stage. If any one com- 
 menced a conversation on acting, he generally shut his mouth ; 
 for, like Mr. Kean, he complained that the remarks he usu- 
 ally heard on such occasions were " d d nonsense." 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 313 
 
 front face, which was handsome for one so old, and singularly 
 pliable about the eyes and brows. He repeated, with good 
 emphasis and discretion, a speech full of advice and good sense, 
 which Polonius addressed to his son when setting out on his 
 travels ; and regretted, with laudable self-love, and, indeed, with 
 good taste (for it is only one of Shakespeare's just varieties of 
 character), that it is left out in the representation. 
 
 Munden began, as we have before stated, to 
 save rather late in life ; yet the passion for 
 accumulation enabled him to amass a hand- 
 some fortune a considerable portion of which 
 was invested in the five per cents. When the 
 Chancellor of the Exchequer reduced that 
 fund to another, bearing a lower interest, 
 Munden submitted to be paid off. The ple- 
 thora of money, which enabled the minister to 
 make that reduction, drove a great deal of 
 British capital into foreign securities (so called, 
 by courtesy), and many wild schemes abroad 
 and at home. Munden's timidity saved him 
 from embarking in adventures abroad ; but he 
 could not resist the high interest which the 
 speculators in building, at home, offered. One 
 of those sagacious persons, possessing more 
 than building craft, affixed, as a lure, " Munden 
 Terrace," to a row of houses in the Hammer- 
 smith Road ; but the retired actor was insen- 
 sible to vanity when his pocket was concerned ; 
 so he enjoyed the immortality without the ex- 
 pense. To another person, however, he was 
 induced to advance a considerable sum of 
 
314 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 money, by way of mortgage, on houses at 
 Islington. He was thoroughly ignorant of 
 business himself, and had not experienced ad- 
 visers. He advanced more than the value of 
 the property the builder failed Munden was 
 obliged to foreclose his mortgages and thus 
 became, what he never intended to be, the 
 actual proprietor of the bricks and mortar. 
 By this necessity, he lost about two-fifths 
 of his advances ; but that was not the only 
 irritating circumstance. The houses had 
 been built to sell, and our unlucky actor was 
 obliged to put them in substantial repair, which 
 he did in the most expensive way. Being 
 only second or third rates they could not be 
 let on lease, and were most of them occu- 
 pied by needy tenants from year to year. 
 These tenants calculated on living rent free, 
 by letting lodgings ; and, to enable them to 
 do so, wanted their rent laid out in mere em- 
 bellishment. When Munden, therefore, whose 
 amusement it was to calculate his hoards be- 
 forehand, counted upon Mr. A. or Mr. B.'s 
 quarter becoming due, they either could not 
 pay, or, if they did, considered that they con- 
 ferred the money as a kind of boon, to be laid 
 out for their advantage. " They expect me/' 
 said Munden, " to let them have the houses 
 for nothing, and to put a pipe of wine in the 
 cellar into the bargain." The extravagant 
 requisitions they made, either by themselves 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 315 
 
 or their wives who were more unreasonable, 
 and more difficult to be answered would 
 have been amusing* to a man of business, who 
 would speedily have got rid of such harpies, 
 or of the property ; but in Munden's case it 
 was a serious annoyance, for he was chained 
 by the leg- to his bed side, dreaded the vision 
 of an empty house, and the whole host of 
 auctioneers and agents. Petty as these annoy- 
 ances may seem, they certainly had the effect 
 of shortening his life ; for he brooded over 
 them, until his sensibilities became morbid. 
 Still he had enough of money, and more than 
 enough. What might have been added to his 
 fortune, had he lived in these palmy times, or 
 crossed the Atlantic, it is impossible to con- 
 jecture. He sometimes talked of visiting the 
 United States. He had a heavy insurance on his 
 life at the Equitable, and might have thought 
 that an impediment ; but the Insurance Com- 
 pany had always given him permission to go 
 over to Ireland, on paying an extra premium, 
 and the remuneration would have been amply 
 sufficient to defray any additional expense. 
 Possibly his constitutional disease ran in his 
 remembrance, and rendered him nervous, as 
 he had never been abroad. There can be no 
 doubt that he would have been very popular 
 in America. Hodgkinson and Bernard had 
 met with great success. Bernard, who had 
 been at Covent-Garden, and quitted England 
 
 p 2 
 
316 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 at the time of Munden's first triumphs, re- 
 turned to see the last of him. They were 
 both sound actors, but not equal to Munden, 
 nor in his line; nothing that approached to 
 him in comedy or farce had ever reached the 
 American shores. The breadth of his acting 
 would have told with our transatlantic bre- 
 thren ; and nobody could discern the taste of 
 his audience sooner than Munden. The re- 
 putation of a quarter of a century would have 
 preceded him ; and, if he had played there as 
 well as he did the last night he appeared in 
 London, he would not have derogated from 
 that high reputation. 
 
 Other offers were made to Munden. One 
 to take leave in Dublin (he had taken a for- 
 mal leave at Liverpool), through the instru- 
 mentality of the author of " Folly as it Flies," 
 '< The Dramatist," &c. 
 
 My dear Munden, 
 
 The bearer of this letter is Mr. B , 
 
 agent to Mr. Abbott, of Dublin, who wishes you to take leave 
 of your Irish admirers ; and play three weeks, to commence 
 on June 19th next. Now forget the gout (as I do), and be 
 " the bold thunder." 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 T. REYNOLDS. 
 Warren-street, Saturday. 
 
 It was also suggested to him, in Dec., 1825, 
 by a gentleman connected with the Drury- 
 Lane property, that his retirement, like that 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 31 7 
 
 of Mr. Johnstone, had been premature ; and 
 he was pressed to return to the London stage. 
 His answer is a very sensible one : 
 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 I received yours, and felt much flattered by 
 your request that I should once more appear on the boards of 
 Drury-Lane Theatre ; but having taken leave of the public in 
 so marked a manner when I quitted, it is impossible, consis- 
 tently, to put on the sock again, added to which, I have such 
 frequent attacks of gout that no dependence could be placed 
 on me. I have been confined these six weeks, and am unable 
 at this moment to quit my bed. 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 Jos. S. MUNDEN. 
 
 If he ever entertained the idea for a mo- 
 ment, it must have been in conversation with 
 Mr. Stephen Price. Mr. Price writes thus : 
 
 T. R. D. L. July 16, 1826. 
 My dear Sir, 
 
 Since I last had the pleasure of writing to 
 you a change has taken place in Drury's concerns, and it has 
 come into my hands as sole lessee. Now, have the goodness 
 to say, will you oblige me by opening the theatre for me, and 
 performing thirty nights during the season, for which I am 
 perfectly willing to accede to the terms you suggested 10/. 
 per night, a benefit on a Monday in May, and two double 
 orders. Your early answer will oblige me, as I leave town on 
 Thursday. 
 
 I am, my dear Sir, 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 STEPHEN PRICE. 
 
 It appears that Munden declined the en- 
 
318 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 gagement, and an offer from Mr. Dunn, who 
 was empowered, on the part of Mr. Price, 
 to increase the terms to 15. per night, for 
 thirty nights. We doubt whether he ever had 
 any serious thought of returning to the stage, 
 though he might have suggested the terms 
 hypothetically. 
 
 Munden's debility now began to increase 
 rapidly. He rose only to take his dinner, and 
 retired very early to bed. He had always, 
 when he was on the stage, partaken freely of 
 wine ; but, latterly, he abstained from it en- 
 tirely, and denied himself those comforts which 
 his age required, and his situation in life ena- 
 bled him to afford. He was attended dili- 
 gently and affectionately by his wife, who, 
 though older than himself, cheerfully endured 
 many privations to which his disease for it 
 was a disease of penuriousness subjected her. 
 We wish we could add that he bequeathed to 
 her (she survived him) a larger sum than the 
 trifling annuity of one hundred pounds for the 
 term of her life. Upon the other dispositions 
 of his will, which was made two-and-twenty 
 years previous to his death, with occasional 
 codicils, we do not desire to enter, and they 
 would not interest the reader. About the end 
 of January, 1832, he suffered under a derange- 
 ment of the bowels, for which he took his own 
 remedy, and increased the malady, being un- 
 able to retain any nutriment on his stomach. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 319 
 
 He sent, when too late, for Mr. Robarts, of 
 Great Coram-street, Brunswick-square, who 
 knew his constitution, and on whose ability 
 and experience he had the most perfect re- 
 liance. The eminent physicians, Dr. Roots 
 and Dr. Bright, also attended ; and every 
 thing- which medical skill could effect was 
 tried, but in vain. He sank beneath a gra- 
 dual decay of nature on the 6th February, 
 and was buried in the vaults of St. George's, 
 Bloomsbury, where the remains of his widow 
 were deposited five years afterwards. The 
 death of Munden is thus announced in the daily 
 papers, all of which contain feeling and flat- 
 tering allusions to his public and private life. 
 From th,ese accounts we will only extract Mr. 
 Charles Lamb's (himself, alas ! now no more) 
 letter to the editor of the Athenaum, with the 
 elegant passage subjoined, which, we pre- 
 sume, bears the initials of Mr. Serjeant Tal- 
 fourd : 
 
 DIED. 
 
 " On the 6th inst., at his house in Bernard-street, Russell- 
 square, in the 74th year of his age, Joseph Shepherd Munden, 
 Esq., formerly of the Theatres Royal, Covent-Garden and 
 Drury-Lane." 
 
 THE ATHENAEUM. 
 
 MUNDEN, THE COMEDIAN. 
 
 A brief memoir in a paper like the " Athenaeum," is due to 
 departed genius, and would certainly have been paid to Mun- 
 
320 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 den, whose fame is so interwoven with all our early and plea- 
 sant recollections, even though we had nothing to add to the 
 poor detail of dates and facts already registered in the daily 
 papers. The memory of a player, it has been said, is limited 
 to one generation ; he 
 
 " struts and frets his hour upon the stage, 
 And then is heard no more !" 
 
 But this cannot be true, seeing that many whose fame will 
 be counted by centuries, yet live to delight us in Gibber ; and 
 that others, of our latter days, have been embalmed, in all 
 their vital spirit, by Elia himself ; in whose unrivalled volume 
 Cockletop is preserved as in amber, and where Munden will 
 live for aye, making mouths at time and oblivion. We were 
 thus apologising to ourselves for the unworthy epitaph we 
 were about to scratch on perishable paper to this inimitable 
 actor, when we received the following letter, which our readers 
 will agree with us is worth a whole volume of bald biogra- 
 phies : 
 
 TO THE EDITOR OF THE ATHENAEUM. 
 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 Your communication to me of the death of Munden made 
 me weep. Now, Sir, I am not of the melting mood ; but in 
 these serious times, the loss of half the world's fun is no trivial 
 deprivation. It was my loss (or gain shall I call it ?) in the 
 early time of my play-going, to have missed all Munden's 
 acting. There was only he and Lewis at Covent Garden, 
 while Drury Lane was exuberant with Parsons, Dodd, &c. ; 
 such a comic company, as I suppose, the stage never showed. 
 Thence, in the evening of my life, I had Munden all to myself, 
 more mellowed, richer, perhaps, than ever. I cannot say what 
 his change of faces produced in me. It was not acting. He 
 was not one of my " old actors." It might be better. His 
 power was extravagant. I saw him one evening in three 
 drunken characters. Three farces were played. One part 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 321 
 
 was Dozey ; I forget the rest ; but they were so discriminated, 
 that a stranger might have seen them all, and not have dreamed 
 that he was seeing the same actor. I am jealous for the actors 
 who pleased my youth. He was not a Parsons or a Dodd, 
 but he was more wonderful. He seemed as if he could do 
 any thing. He was not an actor; but something better, it' 
 you please. Shall I instance Old Foresight, in "Love for 
 Love," in which Parsons was at once the old man, the astro- 
 loger, &c. Munden dropped the old man, the doater, which 
 makes the character ; but he substituted for it a moon-struck 
 character : a perfect abstraction from this earth, that looked as 
 if he had newly come down from the planets. Now, that is 
 not what I call acting. It might be better ; He was imagin- 
 ative ; he could impress upon an audience an idea; the low 
 one, perhaps, of leg of mutton and turnips ; but such was the 
 grandeur and singleness of his expressions, that that single 
 expression would convey to all his auditory a notion of all the 
 pleasures they had all received from all the legs of mutton and 
 turnips they have ever eaten in their lives. Now, this is not 
 acting; nor do I set down Munden amongst my old actors. 
 He was only a wonderful man, exerting his vivid impressions 
 through the agency of the stage. In one thing did I see him 
 act ; that is, support a character ; it was in a wretched farce, 
 called " Johnny Gilpin," for Dowton's benefit, in which he 
 did a cockney ; the thing ran but one night ; but when I say 
 that Liston's Lubin Log was nothing to it, I say little ; it was 
 transcendant. And here, let me say of actors envious actors, 
 that of Munden, Listen was used to speak, almost with the 
 enthusiasm due to the dead, in terms of such allowed supe- 
 riority to every actor on the stage ; and this at a time when 
 Munden was gone by in the world's estimation, that it con- 
 vinced me that artists (in which term I include poets, painters, 
 &c.,) are not so envious as the world think. I have little 
 time, and therefore enclose a criticism on Munden's Old Dozey 
 and his general acting, by a gentleman, who attends less to 
 
 p 5 
 
322 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 these things than formerly, but whose criticism I think mas- 
 terly. C. LAMB. 
 
 Mr. Munden appears to us to be the most classical of actors. 
 He is that in high farce, which Kemble was in high tragedy. 
 The lines of these great artists are, it must be admitted, suffi- 
 ciently distinct ; but the same elements are in both ; the same 
 directness of purpose, the same singleness of aim, the same 
 concentration of power, the same iron casing of inflexible 
 manner, the same statue-like precision of gesture, movement, 
 and attitude. The hero of farce is as little affected with 
 impulses from without, as the retired prince of tragedians. 
 There is something solid, sterling, almost adamantine, in the 
 building up of his grotesque characters. When he fixes his 
 wonder-working face in any of its most amazing varieties, 
 it looks as if the picture were carved out from a rock, by 
 Nature in a sportive vein, and might last for ever. It is like 
 what we can imagine a mask of the old Grecian comedy to 
 have been ; only that it lives, and breathes, and changes. His 
 most fantastical gestures are the grand ideal of farce.. He 
 seems as though he belonged to the earliest and the stateliest 
 age of comedy, when instead of superficial foibles and the 
 airy varieties of fashion, she had the grand asperities of man to 
 work on ; when her grotesque images had something romantic 
 about them ; and when humour and parody were themselves 
 heroic. His expressions of feeling and bursts of enthusiasm 
 are among the most genuine which we have ever felt. They 
 seem to come up from a depth of emotion in the heart, and 
 burst through the sturdy casing of manner, with a strength 
 which seems increased ten-fold by its real and hearty obstacle. 
 The workings of his spirit seem to expand his frame, till we 
 can scarcely believe that by measure it is small ; for the space 
 which he fills in the imagination is so real, that we almost 
 mistake it for that of corporal dimensions. His Old Dozey, in 
 the excellent farce of " Past Ten o'Clock," is his grandest 
 effort of this kind and we know of nothing finer. He seems 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 323 
 
 to have " a heart of oak" indeed. His description of a sea-fight 
 is the most noble and triumphant piece of enthusiasm which 
 we remember. It is as if the spirits of a whole crew of name- 
 less heroes " were swelling in his bosom." We never felt so 
 ardent and proud a sympathy with the valour of England as 
 when we heard it. May health long be his, thus to do our 
 hearts good ; for we never saw any actor whose merits have 
 the least resemblance to his, even in species : and when his 
 genius is withdrawn from the stage, we shall not have left even 
 a term by which we can fitly describe it. T. N. T. 
 
 We here terminate the " Life of Munden." 
 It is unnecessary to add to the detailed and 
 discriminative criticisms on his performances 
 as an actor, which are republished in this 
 volume : still more unnecessary, and much 
 more indelicate would it be in the writer to 
 allude further to him as a man. We are wil- 
 ling to accept as his due the praise bestowed 
 upon him by one of his admirers. " When 
 we reflect on the suffering's he experienced 
 in his youth, we shall not wonder at his 
 placing- a high value on money in his latter 
 years. Every man has some failing, and this 
 is said to have been Munden's ; but cast into 
 the opposite balance his integrity through 
 life, his parental affection, and the tempta- 
 tions he resisted, which will preponderate ? 
 As Johnson said of Macklin, " Divide the 
 world into the good and the bad, and he will 
 stand high in the better half."* 
 
 * See the New Times newspaper, June 1, 1824. 
 
S24 
 
 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 A List of the Characters, which Munden performed : of 
 those marked * he was the original representative. 
 
 Faddle . 
 
 Sir Francis Gripe 
 
 Jemmy Jumps 
 
 Don Lewis . 
 
 Darby . 
 
 Quidnunc . 
 
 Sir Samuel Sheepy . 
 
 Lazarillo 
 
 Frank . 
 
 Lovel 
 
 Ephraim Smooth . 
 
 Cassander . 
 
 Pedrillo. 
 
 Daphne 
 
 Tipple . 
 
 Camillo 
 
 Ennui . 
 
 Gentleman Usher 
 
 Lord Jargon . 
 
 First Carrier 
 
 Mustapha 
 
 Second Witch . 
 
 Meadows 
 
 Sebastian . 
 
 Old Dornton . 
 
 Nicholas . 
 
 Old Shepherd . 
 
 Aircastle . 
 
 David . 
 
 Autolycus . 
 
 Tailor . 
 
 Peregrine Forester 
 
 Sir Anthony Absolute 
 
 Bribon 
 
 *Oaks. 
 
 Busy Body. 
 
 Farmer. 
 
 Love makes a Man. 
 
 Poor Soldier. 
 
 Upholsterer. 
 *School for Arrogance. 
 
 Two Strings to your Bow. 
 """Modern Antiques. 
 
 High Life Below Stairs. 
 Wild Oats. 
 
 Alexander the Little. 
 
 Castle of Andalusia. 
 
 Midas Revived. 
 
 Flitch of Bacon. 
 
 Double Falsehood. 
 
 Dramatist. 
 
 King Lear. 
 "^Notoriety. 
 
 Henry the Fourth. 
 *Day in Turkey. 
 
 Macbeth. 
 
 Deaf Lover. 
 
 Midnight Hour. 
 *Road to Ruin. 
 
 Fashionable Levities. 
 
 Peep behind the Curtains. 
 
 Cozengers. 
 
 Rivals. 
 
 Winter's Tale. 
 
 Catherine and Petruchio. 
 , *Hartford Bridge. 
 
 Rivals. 
 * Columbus. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERf) MUNDEN. 
 
 325 
 
 Sir Francis Wronghead . 
 
 Polonius . 
 
 Hardcastle . . . 
 
 Don Jerome 
 
 Harmony 
 
 Costar Pearmain . 
 
 Sir Thomas Roundhead . 
 
 Dozey 
 
 Nipperkin 
 
 Dromio of Syracuse . 
 
 Town Clerk . 
 
 Peachum . 
 
 Puzzle 
 
 Old Groveboy . . 
 
 Jolly Boy 
 
 Sir Andrew Acid 
 
 General Savage 
 
 Craig Campbell . 
 
 Sidney .... 
 
 Russet 
 
 Oakland 
 
 Trim . , 
 
 Old Pranks . * ' :.; 
 
 Lopez -: V '*- 
 
 Scrub . ... 
 
 Flush 
 
 Midas . 
 
 Cimberton . 
 
 Humphrey . . 
 
 Tallyho 
 
 Valoury 
 
 Sir Hans Burgess 
 
 Cypress . 
 
 Donald 
 
 Doiley . 
 
 Fool . 
 
 Provoked Husband, 
 
 Hamlet. 
 
 She Stoops to Conquer. 
 
 Duenna. 
 *Every one has his Fault. 
 
 Recruiting Officer. 
 *How to grow Rich. 
 
 May Day. 
 *Sprigs of Laurel. 
 
 Comedy of Errors 
 
 Much ado about Nothing. 
 
 Beggars' Opera. 
 
 Funeral. 
 
 Maid of the Oaks. 
 *World in a Village. 
 *Notoriety. 
 
 School for Wives. 
 *Love's Frailties. 
 * Travellers in Switzerland. 
 
 Jealous Wife. 
 *Netley Abbey. 
 
 Tristam Shandy. 
 
 London Hermit. 
 
 Lovers' Quarrels. 
 
 Beaux Stratagem. 
 
 Midas. 
 
 Fashionable Lovers. 
 *Town before you. 
 
 Fontainbleau. 
 ^Mysteries of the Castle. 
 *Life's Vagaries. 
 *Irish Mimic. 
 *Deserted Daughter. 
 
 Who 's the Dupe. 
 
 Battle of Hexham. 
 
326 
 
 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Don Caesar . 
 
 Drugget . 
 
 Thomas 
 
 Lord Scratch 
 
 Grumio. 
 
 Sir Walter Waring . 
 
 Dorus . 
 
 Spado 
 
 Governor Harcourt . 
 
 General 
 
 Shelty . . - . 
 
 Tokay 
 
 Project . 
 
 Grub. 
 
 Caustic . 
 
 Brumagem 
 
 Antonio . 
 
 Harry 
 
 Zarno . 
 
 Sir Hornet Armstrong . 
 
 Grog . 
 
 Captain Cape 
 
 Dowdle . 
 
 Old Testy . 
 
 Sir Charles Clackit . 
 
 Old Rapid . 
 
 Sir William Dorillon 
 
 Timothy Peascod 
 
 Obadiah 
 
 Robin 
 
 Tony Lumpkin 
 
 Zekiel Homespun 
 
 Clod . 
 
 Corney 
 
 Perriwinkle . 
 
 Dogberry . 
 
 Bold Stroke for a Husband. 
 . Three Weeks after Marriage. 
 
 Irish Widow. 
 . Dramatist. 
 
 Catherine and Petruchio. 
 . Woodman. 
 
 Cymon. 
 . Castle of Andalusia. 
 
 Chapter of Accidents. 
 . Midnight Hour. 
 
 Highland Reel. 
 . Wives Revenged. 
 
 "^Speculation. 
 . Cross Purposes. 
 
 *Way to get Married. 
 . *Lock and Key. 
 
 Follies of a Day. 
 . Maid of the Oaks. 
 
 Zorinsky. 
 . Mark'd Friend. 
 
 Positive Man. 
 . Old Maid. 
 
 Prisoner at Large. 
 . * Abroad and at Home. 
 
 Guardian. 
 . *Cure for the Heart-ache. 
 
 *Wives as they were. 
 . What d'ye call it 1 
 
 *Honest Thieves. 
 . Waterman. 
 
 She Stoops to Conquer. 
 . *Heir at Law. 
 
 *Young Quaker. 
 . Beggar on Horseback. 
 
 Bold Stroke for a Wife. 
 . Much ado about Nothing. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 
 
 327 
 
 Sir Harry Sycamore 
 
 Sir Wilford Witwood . 
 
 Simon Single . 
 
 Undermine 
 
 Sir Peter Teazle . 
 
 Dennison . 
 
 Sir Christopher Curry 
 
 Colonel Oldboy . 
 
 Justice Clement . *; .' 
 
 Justice Woodcock 
 
 Sir Luke Tremor 'J" :: --' ^ 
 
 Shenkin . B .uwy : . 
 
 Count Benini . ./"'"'. 
 
 Acres 'ly^-^/ 
 
 Little John i? : _'*.''-' 'Si 
 
 Verdun . ;'- < : ;' A '' 
 
 Challinger .; '; : -^ 
 
 Bonus . 's '"' V ~ i 
 
 Oakworth . 
 
 Captain Bertram ' 'i ' ' ' 
 
 Cuno .... 
 
 Cranky . . ' T !'- r 
 
 King Arthur . : '. '. 
 
 Vulcan . "-''. ''' '.-" 
 
 Alibi . . . '% 
 
 Launcelot Gobbo 
 
 Worry . . ' '. -i 
 
 Crack . 
 
 Ava Thoanoa 
 
 Wolf . 
 
 Sir Abel Handy . '.^ : 
 
 Hardy . .'V^ff* 
 
 Croaker 
 
 Gauge -v l '. ^'fj' 1 
 
 Sir Fretful Plagiary . 
 
 Dominique t-i 1 -'' :/ '.^* 
 
 *False Impressions. 
 . * Secrets worth Knowing. 
 
 School for Scandal. 
 . *Blue Devils. 
 
 Inkle and Yarico. 
 . Lionel and Clarissa. 
 
 Every man in his humour. 
 . Love in a Village. 
 ! Such things are. 
 . *Cambro Britons. 
 ,^ * False and True. 
 . Rivals. 
 
 Robin Hood. 
 . *Lovers Vows. 
 *Ramah Droog. 
 *Laugh when you can. 
 . *Votary of Wealth. 
 
 *Birthday. 
 . * Count of Burgundy. 
 
 Son-in-Law. 
 '*'. Tom Thumb. 
 i* , Poor Vulcan. 
 . Lie of the Day. 
 
 Merchant of Venice. 
 . *Management. 
 
 * Turnpike Gate. 
 . *Wise Man of the East. 
 
 *Joanna. 
 
 . *Speed the Plough. 
 . ' Belle's Stratagem. 
 . Good-natured Man. 
 
 Camp. 
 . Critic. 
 *Paul and Virginia. 
 
328 
 
 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Sir Buzzard Savage 
 Primitive . . 
 Brainworm 
 Old Liberal . 
 Sir Robert Bramble 
 Marrall . 
 Ben Block . . ' 
 Alderman Indigo . 
 Malvolio . 
 Peter Post Obit 
 Peter . 
 
 Old Philpot . 
 Sapling 
 Dogberry. 
 Mainmast . 
 Justice Shallow . . 
 Justice Credulous 
 Governor Tempest . 
 Old Toppit . 
 Old Hairbrain 
 Walmsley 
 Don Pedro 
 Gangway . 
 Gen. Tarragon 
 Lord Dauberry . - 
 Torrent 
 Major Corslet 
 Don Manuel . 
 
 Jobson 
 
 General Bastion 
 
 Jaquez 
 
 Menenius 
 
 Count of Rosenheim 
 
 Stephano 
 
 Sir Bashful Constant 
 
 Fashionable Levities. 
 Life. 
 
 Every man in his humour. 
 *School for Prejudice. 
 *Poor Gentleman. 
 
 New way to pay old Debts. 
 
 Reprisal. 
 *Sea-side Story. 
 
 Love's Labours Lost. 
 *Folly as it Flies. 
 *Cabinet. 
 
 Citizen. 
 *Delays and Blunders. 
 
 Much Ado about Nothing 
 *English Fleet. 
 
 Henry IV. 
 
 St. Patrick's Day. 
 
 Wheel of Fortune. 
 ^Paragraph. 
 *Will for the Deed. 
 
 Appearance is against them. 
 
 Wonder. 
 
 *Thirty Thousand. 
 *School for Reform. 
 *To Marry or not to Marry. 
 * Who wants a Guinea ? 
 
 Guilty or not Guilty. 
 
 She Would and She Would 
 not. 
 
 Devil to Pay. 
 *We Fly by Night. 
 
 Honey Moon. 
 
 Coriolanus. 
 *Adrian and Orrila. 
 
 Tempest. 
 
 Way to Keep Him. 
 
JOSEPH SHEPHERD MUNDEN. 
 
 329 
 
 Mauritz 
 
 Sir Adam Contest 
 
 Moneytrap . , 
 
 Daniel 
 
 Launce . 
 
 Judas 
 
 Governor 
 
 Diaper , , < 
 
 Baron Crackenberg . 
 
 Growley . . 
 
 Old Mirabel . 
 
 Heartworth 
 
 Moody . . . 
 
 Lafeu . 
 
 Casimere t . 
 
 Lingo 
 
 Bombastes 
 
 Timothy Truncheon 
 
 Darby . . , 
 
 Torrington . 
 
 Dozey 
 
 Baillie 
 
 Sam Dabbs 
 
 Vandunke . 
 
 Foresight 
 
 Sherasmen . 
 
 Sir Harry Beagle 
 
 Otho . . 
 
 Adam Winterton . 
 
 Sir Joshua Greybeard 
 
 Trappanti 
 
 Kit Sly . 
 
 Jack Cade 
 
 Sir Frederick Augustus 
 
 Diggory . 
 
 *Peter the Great. 
 . Wedding Day. 
 
 Confederacy. 
 ji'Si , Travellers in Switzerland. 
 
 Two Gentlemen of Verona. 
 i"' ; ' , Bonduca. 
 ''.' *Exile. 
 
 . *School for Authors, 
 
 *Is he a Prince ? 
 . *Budget of Blunders. 
 . . Inconstant. 
 
 . *Gazette Extraordinary. 
 
 Country Girl. 
 
 , . . All's Well that Ends Well. 
 * Quadrupeds of Quedlinbergh. 
 . Agreeable Surprise. 
 Bombastes Furioso. 
 . Crotchet Lodge. 
 * Love in a Camp. 
 
 . School for Wives. 
 . *Past Ten o'Clock. 
 
 . *Maid and the Magpie. 
 . 'Who's Who? 
 . *Merchant of Bruges. 
 
 Love for Love. 
 . *Oberon's Oath. 
 Jealous Wife. 
 . Blacksmith of Antwerp. 
 
 Iron Chest. 
 . *Frightened to Death. 
 
 She Would and She Would 
 
 not. 
 
 . *Cobbler of Preston. 
 . *Richard, Duke of York. 
 Pageant. *High Notions. 
 
 All the World 's a Stage. 
 
330 MEMOIRS OF MUNDEN. 
 
 . 
 
 Davy .... Bon Ton. 
 
 Snip .... * Shakespeare versus Harle- 
 quin. 
 
 John Moody . . . Provoked Husband. 
 Moll Flaggon . . . Lord of the Manor. 
 
 April Secrets Worth Knowing. 
 
 General Vann . . * Veteran. 
 
 Several characters in obscure pieces are omitted. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 Printed by S. & J. BENTLEY, WILSON, and FLEY, 
 Bangor House, Shoe Lane. 
 
14 DAY USE 
 
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