Let us go back, she cried as soon as she had recovered from her surprise. Of what use even to see the company, better to return directly before we are further engaged. Nay, Charles replied, ’Tis already impossible for we have no more money left to go back and must therefore needs go forward. For better or worse we have elected to join them and join them we must. To this Mrs. Elrington added her own pleas, saying that the addition of two such as themselves to the company would surely change the fortunes of them all and that besides there was a play bespoke which was assured of an audience and must prove a great success; and with all these arguments she was at length prevailed upon to go on.
The bespoke play proved to be The Beaux Stratagem but such a version of it as was never seen before or since as I believe nor yet such an audience. In the first row of the pit sat a range of drunken butchers some of whom soon entertained the players with the inharmonious musick of their nostrils. Behind them were seated their sizable consorts who seemed to enjoy the same state of happiness their dear spouses were possessed of but having more vivacity than the males laughed and talked louder than the players.
Mrs. Elrington, who was playing Mrs. Sullen, with such a lovely prospect before her became fearful that Charles, who played Archer might harbour a design of not staying in the drunken scene between Archer and Scrub and accordingly payed them a visit, and taking the tankard out of Scrub’s hand, drank Mr. Archer’s health and to their better acquaintance. The least Charles could do was to return the lady’s compliment by drinking to hers, upon which she ordered Scrub to call in the butler with his fiddle, and insisted on Charles dancing a minuet with her while poor Scrub comforted himself with the tankard.
This absurdity led them into several more for they then took a wild goose chase through all the dramatic authors they could recollect, taking particular care not to let any single speech bear in the answer the least affinity, and while Charles was making love from Jaffier, the lady tenderly approved his passion with a soliloquy from Cato. In this incoherent manner they finished the night’s entertainment; Mrs. Sullen concluding the play with Jane Shore’s Tag at the end of the first act of that tragedy, to the universal satisfaction of that part of the audience who were awake, and were the reeling conductors of those who only dreamt of what they should have seen.
I give this as an example of what our two friends were forced to endure yet worse was to come and they dragged on their unhappy lives for some time without prospect of an amendment until they arrived once more at Cirencester, where the manager, Mr. Elrington, took a place in the stage coach for London the very night they arrived, leaving his wife to manage the company. Now came one from Mr. Linnet’s company which was then at Bath, desiring our friends to join him there but Charles felt his honour too deeply engaged on Mrs. Elrington’s behalf and on her complimenting him with being her right hand he would on no terms leave her but gave her every assistance to take off from her as much trouble as possible since her husband had gone, looking on her as an injured person which doubly engaged his attachment to her interest as indeed she had designed it should.
After traversing through some towns more Mr. Elrington eventually rejoined the company, and they went to a place called Minchin-Hampton, in Gloucestershire whither they were invited by the Lord of the Manor. Here worse befell them, for Charles and two of the men were apprehended, with the connivance of their own landlord, who was in league with a person who had a warrant to take all persons within the limits of the act, and examined almost every traveller who passed through the town before him and extorted money from them before allowing them to pass freely.
The three waited in court, expecting every moment to be called upon and dismissed with a slight reprimand, but eventually they were beckoned to the other end of the court and told that the keeper of the jail insisted on their going into the jail, only for a shew, and to say they had been under lock and key, which was an honour they were not in the least anxious for. At this turn rage and indignation wrought such an effect on Charles’ mind that it threw him almost into a frenzy and he very cordially desired his fellow prisoners to give him leave to cut their throats with a faithful promise to do the same by his own if they should be doomed to remain in that place after the trial. However they replied that they were sorry to see him so very much disconcerted but could no means comply with his request, and endeavoured as much as possible to keep up his spirits and bring him into temper. Several times the landlord came backwards and forwards giving them false hopes of their being every minute called upon. The last visit he made, Charles told him all he conceived of him being privy to the affair and a partner in the contrivance to get money from them, uttering several bold truths not in the least to the advantage of his character.
Away he went grumbling and they saw him no more till the next morning. The evening wore apace and now the sufferers heard the clock strike eight which was the dreadful signal for the gates to be lock’d up for the night. From their position they were afforded a view into the pound where were upwards of two hundred men and boys all under sentence of death or transportation. Their rags and misery and the stench of them filled Charles with horror when he conceived that he must be locked up for the night with them. I will offer half a guinea apiece for beds, he cried, Or if not they may hang us out of hand for we shall perish of jail fever if we are to be turned into there.
Now mercifully Providence took a hand in the shape of the young man who was to be their warder for the night, and whom Charles recognised from his previous stay in the town. I am glad to see thee indeed, he cried, For I had thought we must lie on the bare ground tonight. As to that, said the young man, Let your fears be at rest. There be two shoemakers imprisoned for debt in the Women’s condemned Hold which ’till their coming hath been some time empty. I will make interest with them and dare answer they will share it with you gladly.
Do so, said Charles, And I will send out for candles and some good liquor to preserve us each from getting an ague in such a petrified apartment. This was done, and the shoemakers willingly aquiesced to share their cell with such gentlemanly company, and though the walls and floor were of flint our sufferers were glad to enter for the two men were extreme neat and their bed entirely clean although one was confined for debt and the other for a design to impose his wife and children on the parish. Nevertheless and despite the good liquor, Charles continued very low-spirited more especially as the hideous din from the felons’ chains continued all night long. Now Charles, cried Maxfield, one of the two players and of an odd turn of humour, How often have I seen you exhibit Captain Macheath in a sham prison within walls of canvas and paint and now I have the fancy since we are actually in the condemn’d hold to hear you sing all the bead-roll of songs in the last act that I may have the pleasure in after times when fortune smiles again of saying that I once saw you perform in character. At first Charles demurred but upon them all insisting and saying that ’twould give them all pleasure and help to pass the night, he finally agreed, and striking a pose which after a little he found came naturally enough from the profound effect exercised by his dismal surroundings, he accordingly obliged them all with a performance, and sure never before had the character been more feelingly played or an audience been more attuned to the sufferings portrayed before them.
When it was ended the two actors were admitted to a share of the shoemakers’ bed and Charles rolled himself in his boots and great coat within two skins the shoemakers had furnished themselves with for underleathers, and thus secure from every evil that might occur from such a place, except a cold he afterwards got occasioned by the dampness of his bedchamber, slept for about an hour during which he dreamt of all the plagues that had tormented his spirits during the day.
As soon as the dawn of day appeared, he sat with impatient expectation of the young turnkey’s coming to let them out into the fresh air, which to do him justice he effected an hour earlier than was usual on our adventurer’s account, and let them all look into the yard which was formed in gravel
walks, not unlike Gray’s Inn gardens, though not kept up in that regular and nice order. I question, said Charles when he beheld them, Whether the first pair were more transported at the view when they first looked on Paradise then I am let out of my cell to this rough yard, and find it comparable to the Garden of Eden.
They sauntered for about a quarter of an hour, Charles deeply immersed in thought, when of a sudden, down came the rattling crew whose hideous forms and dreadful aspects roused in him thoughts of Hell where before he had seen only a Garden of Eden. Why Charles, said Mr. Maxfield, Are those tears I see? Be of good comfort. The morning has come which without a doubt shall see our release from this place. Nay, Charles answered It is not for myself I weep but for these others when I behold how each has his crime strongly imprinted on his visage without the least remorse or tincture of shame; and hear them instead of imploring for mercy impudently and blasphemously arraining the judgement of the Power Divine in bringing them to the seat of justice. See before you how age and infancy are both alike plunged in total undistinguished ruin, and entered volunteers in the service of that being which is hourly preying upon the weak and negligent part of mankind.
At about the hour of eight they received the news that they were ordered to appear in court at nine, and ’tho ’twas brought by the deceiving landlord it was no less pleasing to them for that, and they were removed to the pen. Charles bethought himself of that former occasion when he had been like to starve to death in the Marshalsea had it not been for the generosity of Mrs. Careless and the ladies who kept the coffee houses in and about the Garden who would do all in their power for Sir Charles as they styled him, and prayed Heaven that their benefactor had seen fit to do as much. They had not been in the pen above five minutes however when he was called upon to receive a letter of comfort to himself and friends who although they had assumed a gaiety the night before to restore his spirits, were heartily shocked at appearing at the bar among a set of criminals, the least of whose crimes not one of them would have dared to be guilty of, though but in thought.
However they had the pleasure of being marched out of court just before their cause came on, which ended in a very few words their kind protector having laid the plan for their safety so securely with his interest and power that they were soon dismissed tho’ with a bill of different charges to the amount of near twelve pounds besides a quantity of guineas it cost the gentleman who stood their friend in the affair.
After several more months spent roaming the countryside with little profit to show for it, Charles determined to quit the company and against the advice of Mrs. Brown took a house from a friend and, with money from a widow lady living at Chepstow, set up as a pastry cook. At first they met with some success but as soon as their customers’ curiosity was satisfied trade suffered a remarkable declension and Charles decided to set up as hog farmer. In his usual extraordinary hurry he bought a sow with pig but great was their disappointment after hourly expecting it to bring forth for three months, during which time it was tenderly nurtured, to find it was nothing but an old barrow, fit only to be sold to the butcher for a shilling or two less than they had paid for it.
Plague succeeding plague they resolved to leave the place, and taking the pastry-cook’s utensils with them fled to Pill near Bristol where they set up shop. While the ships were coming in from Ireland in the summer months they had a good running trade, but alas the winter was most terrible and if an uncle of Mrs. Brown’s had not opportunely died and left her a legacy they must inevitably have perished.
On the receipt of the letter Charles showed it to the landlord, hoping for a guinea to go to Mrs. Brown’s aunt who lived in Oxfordshire and receive the legacy, leaving Mrs. Brown as hostage against his return. But the landlord, conceiving it to be a plot to get his guinea and reward him by running away in debt, refused. Mrs. Brown wept bitterly when she heard it for they had but a groat between them in the world and if a shilling would have saved them from total destruction they knew not where to raise it. Nay, my dear, this will not do, Charles said, To be baulked by the incredulity of a blockhead and kept from what would solve all our troubles and his own too. We must flit, there is no other way for it and that without a word to anybody.
How can we, she cried, When we have no money for the journey and besides you have no hat having pledged it last week at Bristol. How can you set forth all that way without a hat? Notwithstanding, Charles answered, There is nothing else for it. Therefore make up a small bundle with a change of linen and we will go at once.
With Mrs. Brown scarce able to see her way for tears they set off and on their march were met by some of the neighbours who at the sight of them ran at once to tell the landlord that they were gone off. Take heart, said Charles, For at Bristol I will apply to my friend Mr. Kennedy who will furnish us enough to help us on the way. This somewhat cheered Mrs. Brown, though the idea had only then entered his head, and they made good progress to Bristol, arriving there just as the neighbours reached the landlord with their tale. Mr. Kennedy proved as good as expected and they lay that night at a house where Charles was able to procure a covering for his unthinking head from a young journeyman Jemmy Smart who dressed entirely in taste and gladly lent our adventurer a very dusty one of his which had not been worn some time and would therefore not be missed.
Thus they eventually reached Oxfordshire, received the money and returned to Pill, restoring the hat to its owner on the way and redeeming Charles’ own. As long as the money lasted he was once again the worthiest gentleman in the land but when their stock was exhausted he was as much disregarded as a dead cat, and it was plain that they must leave the place or starve by inches in the coming winter.
In the succeeding months they were tossed from place to place until they lit finally at Wells where the girl was, she having married some three years before ’tho much against Charles’ advice. For the run of six towns they travelled together till at last there came a letter from brother Theophilus saying that Mr. Simpson of Bath had a mind to engage our adventurer to prompt and undertake the care of the stage, and as they were heartily sick of strolling the offer was embraced and they set out for Bath, glad to be away from the insults offered to them both by the girl’s husband.
Yet this offer of a position at Bath was not without disadvantage to our friend for it was hedged about with many irksome conditions devised by the family as that she should forsake men’s clothes, give up the name of Brown, and not to appear on the stage at all but more especially in the part of Lord Foppington for fear she should be thought to mock her father and brother who were both accomplished in the character. On their arrival at Bath then Mr. Simpson furnished her with money to equip herself in her proper character which she repaid him weekly out of her salary.
From the month of September to March they stayed there but the fatigue of the place was more than her health or spirits could easily support, for Mr. Simpson in his good nature and unwillingness to offend even the most trifling performer stood neuter when he ought to have exerted his right of authority; each had their several wills, and but one bound to obey them all which was Charlotte. This any reasonable person will allow to be a hard task as she was not inclined to offend any of them, and though they herded in parties, she was resolved to be a stranger to their disputes, till open quarrels obliged her to become aquainted with them and she was often made use on as a porter to set these matters to rights. Her proud spirit could not easily brook this, both in respect to her father as well as to herself.
Next she had not, even on Sundays, a minute to herself, and often left fresh orders for the printer while he was at church, either for alteration of parts, or of capital distinctions in the bills without which very indifferent actors would not go on. The rumour was also brought to London that she had been seen in the streets of Bath in her preferred clothes once more, and that friends had requested her appearance in a benefit as Lord Foppington, which intention was frustrate by two persons who each hoped to supply the character themselves though w
ithout the advantage of either that ease of action necessary to the part or being able to utter a syllable of French.
To say truth she began to be very angry with herself for ever condescending to sit behind the scenes to attend a set of people none of whom, the principall Miss Ibbott excepted, was capable of discerning any faults she might have in acting. However she determined to finish the season out and would have done so had not the whole business been brought to a stop by an information lodged against the company, the theatre closed and great uncertainty of its ever opening again. Upon this they removed to Bradford to another company and in spite of the entreaties of several of Mr. Simpson’s company, including Miss Ibbott, who came to see them play at that town, refused to return to Bath, preferring to travell further and fare worse as indeed they did with several indifferent companies until at length they fetched up once more with the girl and her husband.
Matters here were, as the reader may conceive, no better than before, yet one good thing was to come from it for our adventurer had now made good progress in a design she had of living by her pen and had got halfway in a history of Mr. Dumont with which she resolved to try her fortune and never more to set foot on a country stage again. She therefore prevailed on the manager, a good-natured young man, to steer course for London. They were unlucky enough to miss the stage at Portsmouth and were obliged to retard their journey two days, remaining there on expenses which was a terrible disaster as their finances were at best slender.
The Microcosm Page 11