THE STAGE, BEFORE AND BEHIND THE CURTAIN,

Is a defence of Mr. BUNN'S career as a malinger and lessee. This Apology for a Manager's Life, to use the phrase of Cnlnen, involves of necessity a history of the engagements, performances, expendi- ture, and receipts during the period it embraces ; it also properly admits of characteristic anecdotes of the many strange personages with whom a theatrical potentate is brought into connexion, as well as running disquisitions on the public taste and the state of the drama. But Mr. BUNK goes further than these things ; eking out his volumes with such well-known matter as the respective addresses of the rival houses at the opening and close of the season, critiques from newspapers on dramas produced at Drury Lane, copies of patents, extracts from acts of Parliament, correspond- ence with the Lord Chamberlain's Office, and even Mr. DUN- COMTE'S very clever speeches on the absurd suppression of theatri- cal performances during Lent. It follows, therefore, that much space is occupied with matter familiar to the reader, or respecting which he has no curiosity. The remainder, though frequently characteristic of the histrionic tribe, and pretty well sprinkled with anecdote, is not so pungent or so striking as might have been ex- pected from a person in the position and with the experience of Mr. BUNN. Part of this arises from the manager triumphing over the observer : the writer thinks that what affected or seemed to affect his pecuniary interests, being a subject of importance to him, must be so to all the world. Part of it is owing to the na- ture of his subject : the fact seems to be, that the airs, the inso- lence, the exactions, the irregularities, and the conceit of players, are only fit for isolated anecdote. There is not stamina in the " mendici, miaaae, balatrones, hoc genus mine," to sustain a long- continued narrative. Their salient points serve well enough to raise a laugh, but their inflated emptiness is very heavy when it has to be borne for a long time. The main objects of Mr. BUNN'S Apology are twofold,-he wishes to defend himself from the charge of neglecting SIIAKSPERE

and the regular drama ; and to prove that the character of the times, assisted by unforeseen misfortunes, was the cause of his want of success, and not any fault of his own. For the first pur-

pose, he affirms, and with sonic degree of truth, that there are not actors to properly represent SHAKSPERE. He also enters into nu-

merous statistical details, to show that the legitimate drama was constantly performed at his houses, but. that it never drew in pro- portion to other pieces. The whole of these documents would occupy a very considerable space ; but as the results are curious in a theatrical sense, we will quote the summaries.

SHAKSPERE UNDER BUNN.

Number of nights in each of the following six seasons, when the plays of Shakspere were performed at the Theatres Royal Drury Lane and Covent Garden, under the management of Mr. Bunn, collated for the satisfaction of those who have asserted that they were never played at all. Nu. or Shakspere's Plays.

In the season 1832-33 were given 33

In the season 1833-34 were given 56

In the season 1834-35 were given 39 In the season 1835-36 were given 29

In the season 1836-37 were given 42

In the season 1837-38 were given 63 Total representations of Shakspere 262

The analysis of this summary is curious, as showing the accurate judgment of the public. If deficient in some of the loftier elements of poetry, Othello, in its variety, comprehension, strength, and do- mestic interest, must take the first place in dramatic literature : and Othello was found to be the most attractive piece, by a manager who avowedly acknowledges that a person in his position can only consider what will draw. Macbeth takes the next place in attrac- tion, and then Hamlet; being probably in the order the critic would rank them-for Lear is, from various circumstances, in a peculiar category.

1. The Tempest was performed 4 13. Coriolanns 5

2. Macbeth 41 14. Julius Caesar 3

3. hamlet 36 15. King John 4 4. Cymbeline 1 16. Henry VIII. 7 5. Antony and Cleopatra 3 17. Romeo and Juliet 5 6. Midsummer Night's Dream... 2 18. Henry V 1

7. Henry 1V. (First Part) 15 19. Merchant of Venice. 11

8. henry IV. (Second Part) ... 8 20. Twelfth Night 9. Richard II. 2 21. As You Like It

10. Richard III. 5 34 22. Winter's Tale . 3 11. Merry Wives of Windsor 8 23. King Lear 14

12. Othello 47

Grand to al of times 262 SIIAKSPERE AND MACREADY versus BUNN, !mast, AND 3IALIBRAN. Sixteen successive nights of The Muhl of Artois and her " repre- sentative," Madame Malibran, despite every possible drawback, produced a nightly average of £355 0 0 Twenty-thur nights of Shakspere and his representative, "Mr Macready," with every possible advantage to back him, produced

a nightly average of 189 0 0

Difference per night! £166 0 0 The point at issue in the charge against Mr. Buxx of sacrificing the higher drama to spectAcle, is not, however, the mere naked fact of how many times a particular class of plays was performed, or what money they drew to the treasury, but the spirit in which they were brought out and represented. It is possible, either from carelessness, design, or incapacity, that a particular kind of drama might be rendered not only ineffective but even ridiculous. Not would the ineffectiveness require any gross or palpable con- duct on the part of the manager. \%'e have gleaned from dra- matic publications, that certain nights of the week are held to be good and others bad. It is easily conceivable that the clas- sical drama should be played on the bad nights, the favourite spectAele on the good. It is also possible, that whilst large sums of money, and such mental energies as could be commanded, were lavished upon the latter, SHAKSPERE and the regular dramatists were left to the property-man to do as he pleased, or as he could, with the old means at his disposal. It is well known that if a person determine to pander to the tastes of the vulgar, he will be better supported than if he profess to address a higher order of minds, without taking the trouble, or perhaps having the ability, to furnish those minds with the pabulum they require. We do not say that this was the case with Mr. IluNs's ma- nagement ; but there is one striking filet, scarcely resolvable, with our present lights, on any other gr()121.10.s In the tir5t three seasons of his career, the losses were about 7,000/.; the 3,6001. loss of the last season being attributable in a degree to the reduction of the boxes to 48., and the other prices of ad- mission in proportion. In 1837-8, the first season of MAcanny's management, Mr. Brxx's receipts fell 4,6001., and his loss was 3,0001. But in 1S38-9, when Covent Garden had made more bead, the receipts of Drury Lane fell from 36,000/. to 28,900/.; and the loss on the season was the enormous sum of 1.5,200/.,

although the house closed so early.

Mr. Brxx attributes his failure to various cireumstances,-the starring system; the exactions and irregularities of actors; the death of Al:WIG:AN, which defeated his combinations for the fol- lowing year; his own want of capital, (a very potent cause, we should imagine) ; the numerous theatres the " liberal" Chamberlain has licensed ; but more than all, the apathy of the public. And he lays it down as an axiom derived from his own experience, that the only mode of saving the two patent theatres, is for one person to hold both, and fax a maximum of salary ; though he does not undertake to say that the enterprise would even then succeed. The caution is right, seeing that when he held both the houses there was a loss of 1,6501. on the season. The idea of a maximum is well in theory, but what was his own practice ? He gave MALtintAN 125/. a night. If it answers the purpose of a manager to give high salaries, he of course must give them : actors will naturally argue, the money is as well in their pockets as in his. If he does it, not because they repay their outlay, but on a desperate hope that they will, or to deprive a rival establishment of their services, lie is a fool for his pains, and the conduct if persisted in must end in ruin. This, in fact, we suspect will be the result ; and when the great managers are one after another driven out of the field, the players will be at the mercy of the house that keeps open, or have to go without a salary at all. What they are now receiving is beyond doubt most ex- orbitant ; and yet we find them very often appealing to the public for charity, as soon as their physical powers decay, or dying in a state of pecuniary embarrassment.

PAST AND PRESENT PAY or PLAYERS.

John Kemble, for acting and managing, had a weekly salary of 36/. ; Miss O'Neil's salary, at the beginning of lice brilliant career, was 15/., and never ex- ceeded 251. per week ; George Cooke (greatly attractive) had 201. per week ; Mrs. Jordan's salary, in the zenith of her popularity, was 311. 10s. per week ; Mr. Charles Kemble, until he became his own manager, never had more than 20/. per week ; Dowton had 12/., and never more than 20/. per week. Up to 1822, (and during the greater part of her career to that period she was highly attractive,) Miss Stephens, the present Dowager Countess of Essex, had 20/. per week ; but in the following season at Drury. Lane she was paid at the rate of 601. per week. In 1822, Mr. Macready had 20/. per week.; and in 1832, and up to 1837, (barring au interregnum alluded to in a preceding chapter,) he had 301. per week ; and in 1839 he had the modesty to demand and to receive 251. per night. In 1832, Mr. Power had 20/. per week; he is now, and for some time past has been in the receipt of 1201. per week. In 1822, Mr. Farrell had 16/. per week; in 1832, 30/. per week, and at present receives 40/. per week. In. 1822, Mr. Liston had 171. per week ; he then sprung up to 50/. and 60/. per week, and finally had 20/. per night. Miss Ellen Tree, when engaged with me to play at both theatres, and eventually only at one, had 15/. per week : she went to America, stayed there two seasons, and returned to stipulate for and to

receive 25/. per night. * * * * Then, to think while such actors as Emery bad 12/. per week, Ineledon 121., John Bannister 1S1., H. Johnston 10/., &c. that Bartley should ever have had 20/. per week—that Templeton, who had 6/., should now demand 30/. and refuse 251.—that Harley should have had 20/., Cooper 18/., &c.—is enough to astonish and make one downright sick. * • *

The only drawback to my enthusiasm on the present occasion was, that I had to pay such an enormous price for indulging in it, being tumble to effect tut engagement with this " spirit of air " (Taglioni) on any other terms than 100/. per night for herself; 600/. for the term of her visit to her father as ballet-master, 000/. to her brother and sister-in-law to dance with her, two benefits guaranteed to produce her 1,000/., and half a benefit guaranteed to produce her bristlier 2001. ; involving altogether a suns of more than 6,000/. ! My liabilities, therefore, during the following months of May, .Tune, and July, were nearly 10,0001., between Madame Malibran, Mademoiselle Taglioni and her family, exclusive of all the other outgoings of the theatre.

A good deal more might be said on the subject of theatrical management and theatrical taste ; but we have gone perhaps quite as far as its importance in the public mind warrants. We will therefore turn to the amusing medley which sprinkles Mr. BUNN'S

Pages.

PRANKS or PLAYERS.

The entertainments were announced precisely in the order commanded by

his Majesty, by a letter from the Vice-Chamberlain now in my possession : and without directions from the Court, I dared not alter the arranged routine of the perthrmances. With a thorough contempt, it would seem, for either the authority of the real monarch or the duty of the assumed one, this letter was addressed to me-

" Monday ,1:8:11 April 1834.

" Dear Sir—I perceive by the advertisements that Turning the Tables is to be perfbrmed as the last piece on Thursday next : this I trust will not be re- sisted in, otherwise I must decline the honour of appearing before his Majesty so late in the evening. 0 Yours, &c. " J. IsisToN. " To A. Bunn, Esq. &e. &c. &c."

Now, pray who is the King in all this business ? Mr. Liston had 201. for

playing in nruing the Tables, commanded by his Majesty to be the last en- tertaimnent of the evening ; and Mr. Liston says, " his Majesty (for his letter implies as much) persists in it, I decline the honour of appearing heMre him so late in the evening." It is not " too late in the evening" for the King of England to sit in his private box, but it is "too late for one of his Majesty's servants " to appear on the stage to MUSS him. Surely this is cam ing (sot the Wokey«n doctrine of' Ego cl rex turns a little too far. I say nothing about the unhappy wretch of at manager and his 20/.—they are not worth bestowing a thought upon ; but it is a question whether such monstrous con- sequence as this should be assumed in opposition to the pleasure of a crowned head.

A PLAYER AND A PACE.

On the occasion of this visit, Mr. Liston and myself were conversing in the

ante-room of the Royal box, with it nobleman attached to the Household, when one of the Pages, passing by and not seeing his Lordship, shipped the comedian on the back, ejaculating, " D'ye think you'll make 111111 laugh to- night? he was devilish stupid at dinner." 1 cannot now determine which created the greatest roar, the Mee of Alr. Liston or that of the lacqucy on per- ceiving the noble lord before whom he lead so committed himself respecting his illustrious master. It' the reader never saw the face of a dignified performer, when reminded that lie was nothing more thou a performer, he has a treat to Come.

31ALIBRAN AND TIIE PINT OF nurrEn.

It may lie an acceptable diversion from the painful details which we shall have to enter upon, to record a humorous incident which led to the thrilling, the more than brilliant, the not to he forgotten execution, by Madame Mall- hran, of the finale to this opera (The Maid q' Artois.) I had occasion, during its last rehearsal but one, to express myself in strong terms at her leaving the stage for more than an hour and a half, to go and gain 23/. at a morning con- cert. Neither the concentrated pieces of' music, nor the situation of the 'transit in which she was involved, could possibly be proceeded with ;isn't the great stake we were then contending for was likely to be placed in jeopardy by an un- worthy grasp of it few pounds, to the prejudice of a theatre paying her it ightly five times as much. She knew she had done wrong ; and she atoned fur it by her genius, while her pride would not have permitted her to du so. She had borne along the two first acts on the first nights of performance in such a flood of triumph, that she was bent, by some almost superhuman effort, to continue its glory to the final fall of the curtain. I went into her dressing-room previous to the commencement of the third net, to ask how she felt ; and she replied, " Very tired, but," (and here her eye of fire suddenly lighted 11;0 "you angry devil, if you will contrive to get isle a pint of porter in the desert scene, you shall have an encore to your finale." Dad I been dealing with any other per- former, I should perhaps have hesitated in complying with a request that might have been dangerous its its application at the moment ; but to cheek her powers was to annihilate them. I therefore arranged that behind the pile of drifted sand on which she Mils in a state of exhaustion, towards the close of the second scene, a small aperture should he made in the stage: and it is it fact, that from underneath the singe, through that aperture, a pewter pint of porter was con. veyed to the parched lips of this rare child of song; which so revived her after the terrible exertion the scene led to, that she electrified the audience, and had strength to repeat the charm, with the finale to The Maid o/' Artois. The novelty of the circumstance so tickled her fancy, and the draught itself was so extremely refreshing, that it was arranged during the subsequent run of the opera, for the Negro slave at the head of the Governor's procession to have in the gourd suspended to his neck the same quantity of the Mule illIVCrage, to be applied to her lips on his first beholding the apparently dying Isoline.

BUNN ON REVIVER.

It was considered, and so it was chronicled and set down by the party of which Mr. Bul wet. is the nucleus, that I had committed au unpardonable offence, in treating with such apparent contempt their illustrious Coryphams.

By asking to sec the manuscript of his play, befin'e be undertook topay for it.] I should be very sorry if any impression arising out of these observations went abroad, that I sought to depreciate, in a general point of view, Mr. Bulwer's great abilities. Such is not the case. I have been repeatedly charmed by a perusal of some of his works of fiction : but I have found no reason, from the subsequent works he has produced on the stage, to alter the opinion I had formed, from witnessing and reading the Thichesse rue In Vulliere, that his mind is not theatrically constituted. Ilis plays may be crammed down the throats of a probationary audience by the expedients resorted to on such occasions— a liberal issue of " orders," a judicious disposal of the " Sons of Freedom," he amirkings of a soi-disant fashiunable party located in a private box, with its blushing author sitting in its centre, and other such prepared quackery; but they will never hold permanent rank in the dramatic literature of the country.

BEAN'S STUDY.

Kean sat up all night in a room opposite the Debtors-door of the Old

Bailey, to catch a full view of the deaths of the Cato Street conspirators; and as he was going on the stage in the evening, he said to me, " I mean to die like Thistlewood to-night : I'll imitate every muscle of that man's counte- nance."

ORGER ON HARLEY.

When the separation was about to take place between Messrs. Lee and Pol-

hill, in May 1831, each had his partisans in the theatre; for while Polhill found n11 the money, Lee possessed all the power. A canvass, therefore, was hotly pursued amongst the performers • and when that charming actress and intellectual woman, Mrs. Orger, was asked whether she was for Lee or Polhill, she archly replied, " I shall wait till I know which side Harley takes."

DIELBOURNE ON SIELGRAVIE.

A friend of mine called on me to-day, who met Mr. Lambton, Lord Dur-

ham's brother, at dinner yesterday ; and Lambton told him that be was dining at the Palace on Thursday last, and was talking, with Lord Melbourne over Lord Mmrigrave's " private theatricals," when, the Royal attention being at- tracted, her Majesty was pleased to ask what sort of an actor Lord Mulgrave was ? " Oh, very bad, very bad indeed," was the Premier's reply. And " so I should think," was leer Majesty's gracious rejoinder.

TILE QUEEN AND trim WILD BEASTS.

011 this latter evening, pursuant to arrangements which had been made for

the purpose, our gracious Mistress condescended to cross the stage of the theatre fir the purpose of seeing the animals in their more excited and savage state, during the operation of feeding them. It is almost unnecessary to observe, that this gratifying scene took place after the departure of the audience; and that every possible caution was adopted for the comparative comfort and seclusion of the Royal visiter, which the resources of the theatre permitted, such as enclosing the entrances with crimson draperies, and carpet- mg the stairs—not merely to shut out the draught of the night-air, but to exclude the prying gaze of' the many stragglers who remained behind in hopes of bearing testimony to so unprecedented a compliment paid to the theatre. The animals had been kept purposely without food for six-and-thirty hours ; strong symptoms of which had become manifest during Mr. Van Amburgh's perthrmance by the lion and the panther having simultaneously attacked the lamb on its iming placed in their den ; and they would have evidently made but a mouthful apiece of it, had not their almost superhuman master literally lashed them into the most abject and crouching submission. The first portion. of food thrown amongst them, seized by the lion as a matter of priority., was enough to convince any sceptic of the feartid savageness of their nature, when out of the control of the one hand whose authority they ackowledged. The rolling of the tiger's eye, while he was devouring the massive lump of meat and 11011C, clutched beneath his fine-paws, seemed to possess the brilliancy as well as the rapidity of lightning; and was only diverted by a tremendous and sudden spring of the lion, who, having demolished his own portion, seized upon what was left of his tcmQeloits neighbour's tare. The dash against the sides of the den sounded like the felling of huge trees, and was enough by its force and fury to shake the strongest nerves ; but it Vas a positive fact, that while the boldest of the hearts in the Royal suite speedily retreated at this unexpected plitim of the forest monarch, the youthful Queen never moved either face or foot, but with look undiverted, and still more deeply riveted, continued to gaze on the novel and moving spectacle. ANECDOTES or THE DUKE.

During the debate, (on Bulwer's bill,) a noble lore asked the Duke of wel- lington if as the majority would be but small, they had not better let the bill go into Committee. " No, no ; always get a victory wlien you can," was the Duke's laconic reply. have heard a bon mot aids Grace the Duke of Wellington, very applicable to his visit on this occasion to Drury Lime, although upon a very different subject ; and while I cannot vouch for its authenticity, I may be allowed to believe in it. A nobleman ventured, in a moment of conviviality at his Grace's table, to put this question to him—" Allow me to ask, as we are all here tiled, it' you were not surprised at Waterloo ?" To which the Duke responded, " No, but I an now "

IMPUDENCE OF ET.LISTON.

Mr. Elliston had advertised for his benefit in that town, (Worcester,) an ex- traordinary display of fireworks, comets with tails, :tin' fixed stars without then], lions ravenous, and boa-constrictors gorged: squibs, crackers, wheels, and whirligigs, were to be seen in all the glory of the pyrotechnical art. Whether he had ever seriously contemplated their introduction—whether there was any difficulty in immuring them—or whether having assured himself, by their announcement-, of a crowded auditory—this deponent sayeth not, but (Tries they never " made their appearance on that stage." Mr. Elliston per- suaded his landlord, a man much respected in Worcester, to issue his fiat against any such exhibition, as calculated to vitiate his insurance, and to en- danger the lives of the King's subjects. The good easy man, hitting into the trump, went to the theatre with a part', chiefly to hear the manager's explana- tion ; when, to his horror and astonishment, Elliston placed the entire onus on his shoulders, and called on him by name to verify his assertion, from the box he was sitting in ; at the same time lauding him highly for his promptitude and precaution. Ile wound up his address in a tone of peculiar conciliation and bombast, which no other mortal could adopt, with, " But," (as it; at least, he was going to give them all their money back " But, ladies and gen- tlemen, I am happy to say I have given directions to make up flir any disap- pointment you may have experienced. Band!" (looking down and pointing his finger with an assumption of great authority to three wretched fiddlers in the orchestra) " Band, play up ' God min' the King'—directly'."

Besides the faults already noticed, the impression which The Stage both Bt''/'ore and Behind the Curtain leaves upon the mind, is ra- ther one of unsatislitetion. No doubt, enough is shown of a mana- ger's cares and troubles from the players, but not more than the public is already familiar with from isolated examples, and cer- tainly not so much as might have been looked for with Mr. BuNN's opportunities. Some of the troubles he adduces are common to all people who employ persons not of high character—as drunk- enness, and want of punctuality, which are characteristic of many classes of workmen, and not peculiar to actors. Neither, we think, does the book exhibit its author as a good manager, in an en- larged and liberal sense of the word. We make no doubt he is well acquainted with all the trading knowledge and technicalities of the subject ; but he seems to have bad no definite purpose in view, to be carried out with more or less effect according to his means, but at all events to be carried out. Hence he was the slave of chance—dependent upon the effect of some novelty of player or piece ; and generally foreign ones. If an actor died, or the Paris stage produced nothing that would answer, the manager was at his wits-end. According to his own account, he was ruined because MALIBRAN died, and the Chamberlain would not let him perform Italian operas ; resources which the manager of a genuine English theatre should never have thought of.