A Book for a Rainy Day; or, Recollections of the Events of the Years 1766-1833. John Thomas Smith
31.
Notwithstanding it has been said that Mr. Garrick spoke slightingly of Mrs. Siddons’s talents, the above list incontrovertibly proves that he considered her powers sufficiently great to appear in principal characters with him no fewer than six nights of the last nine in which he performed.
I shall now subjoin a similar list of Mrs. Siddons’s nights of performance at Drury Lane Theatre, during the last year of Mr. Garrick’s acting.[129]
| Jan. | 13, 15, 17. | Epicœne, or The Silent Woman (as a Collegiate Lady). |
| Feb. | 1, 2, 3. | The Blackamoor Washed White. |
| Between Feb. 15 and April 18 (22 nights). | The Runaway (as Miss Morley). | |
| May | 23. | The Suspicious Husband (as Mrs. Strickland). |
| 24. | The Runaway (as Miss Morley). | |
| 27. | King Richard the Third (as Lady Anne). | |
| 31. | The Suspicious Husband (as Mrs. Strickland). | |
| June | 1. | |
| 3. | King Richard the Third (as Lady Anne). | |
| 5. | Ditto. Ditto. By command of their Majesties. | |
Of six plays of which there were no bills in the Burney collection, I was enabled to add instances of the performance of Mrs. Siddons on those nights from a portion of that truly rare and valuable library purchased by Government of the late Dr. Burney’s son for the British Museum.
Ladies this year wore goloshes, four distinct falls of lace from the hat to the shoulders, and rolled curls on either side of the neck: they continued to carry fans.[130]
1777.
I remember well that in an autumn evening of this year, during the time my father lived in Norton Street,[131] going with him and his pupils on a sketching party to what is now called Pancras Old Church; and that Whitefield’s Chapel in Tottenham Court Road, Montague House, Bedford House, and Baltimore House,[132] were then uninterruptedly seen from the churchyard, which was at that time so rural that it was only enclosed by a low and very old hand-railing, in some parts entirely covered with docks and nettles. I recollect also that the houses on the north side of Ormond Street commanded views of Islington, Highgate, and Hampstead, including in the middle distance Copenhagen-house, Mother Red-cap’s, the Adam and Eve, the Farthing Pie House, the Queen’s Head and Artichoke, and the Jew’s Harp House.[133]
Early in this year Spiridione Roma,[134] who had cleaned the pictures of the Judges then hanging in Guildhall, published a prospectus for Bartolozzi’s print from the portrait of Mary Queen of Scots in Drapers’ Hall, said to have been painted by Zucchero.[135]
1778.
At this period I began to think there was something in a prognostication announced to my dear mother by an old star-gazer and tea-grouter,[136] that, through life, I should be favoured by persons of high rank; for, in this year, Charles Townley, Esq. (the collector of the valuable marbles which now bear his name in the British Museum), first noticed me when drawing in Mr. Nollekens’ studio, and pouched me half a guinea to purchase paper and chalk.[137] This kindness was followed up by Dr. Samuel Johnson, who was then sitting for his bust. The Doctor, after looking at my drawing, then at the bust I was copying, put his hand heavily upon my head, pronouncing “Very well, very well.” Here I frequently saw him, and recollect his figure and dress with tolerable correctness. He was tall, and must have been, when young, a powerful man: he stooped, with his head inclined to the right shoulder: heavy brows, sleepy eyes, nose very narrow between the eye-brows, but broad at the bottom; lips enormously thick; chin, wide and double. He wore a stock and wristbands; his wig was what is called a “Busby,” but often wanted powder. His hat, a three-cornered one; coats, one a dark mulberry, the other brown, inclining to the colour of Scotch snuff, large brass or gilt buttons; black waistcoat and small-clothes—sometimes the latter were corduroy; black stockings, large easy shoes, with buckles; his gait was wide and awkwardly sprawling; latterly he used a hooked walking-stick, in consequence of his having saved the life of a young man as he was crossing from Queenhithe to Bankside.
One of the Doctor’s sticks of this shape brought me into a scrape. It was given to me by the late William Tunnard, Esq., of Bankside;[138] he received it from his friend Mr. Perkins;[139] it was one of many that the Doctor kept at Thrale’s. This stick I promised to my worthy and liberal friend the Rev. James Beresford, of Kibworth, Market Harborough;[140] but, alas! when I went to “stick-corner” somebody had walked it off. However, if this page should meet the eye of its present possessor, I hope, even should the “Bannister” I now rest upon be deemed useless by Time’s sandy-glass, his conscience may order the Johnsonian relic to be delivered to the above-named gentleman, whose property I declare it unquestionably to be. My present strong stick, named “Bannister,” was given to me when afflicted with the gout, by a fellow-sufferer, universally known under the friendly appellation of “Honest Jack.”
I once saw him follow a sturdy thief, who had stolen his handkerchief in Grosvenor Square, seize him by the collar with both hands, and shake him violently, after which he quickly let him loose; and then, with his open hand, gave him so powerful a smack on the face, that sent him off the pavement staggering.
DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON
“Pockets which might have almost held the two volumes