The Palmy Days of Nance Oldfield | Page 3

the silvery voice proceeds. There he first meets Nance,
surrounded by what audience we know not, and is struck dumb at the
lovely figure standing out in bashful relief, as it were, against a
background of wine bottles and ale tankards. There is an awkward
pause, no doubt, and if the girl of fifteen comes to a sudden stop in her
recital, Farquhar is no less embarrassed on his part.
The handsome, rosy face of a strapping tavern wench would not have
startled him, but he was not gazing upon a bouncing serving maid or
the hoydenish daughter of a prosperous innkeeper. He beheld a creature
in all the gentle bloom of highbred beauty--tall, well-formed, and
radiating a sort of natural elegance, with a fine-shaped, expressive face,
to which great speaking eyes and a mouth half pensive, half smiling,
lent an air of rare distinction. These were the eyes which in after years
Anne would half close in a roguish way, as when, for instance, she
meditated a brilliant stroke as Lady Betty Modish, and then, opening
them defiantly, would make them glisten with the spirit of twinkling
comedy. These were the eyes, too, which would shine forth such
unutterable love when she played Cleopatra that one might well pardon
the peccadilloes of poor Antony. But as yet there was no thought of
drooping eyelids or amorous glances; all was natural, and nothing more
so than the coyness of Nance upon seeing the author of "Love and a
Bottle."
Captain Farquhar had never before beheld this seamstress from King
Street, Westminster, but she must have been familiar with the
handsome figure of one who had drunk many a brimming glass at the
Mitre Tavern. Thus, when he made bold to praise her elocution, she
was not offended, and, although she ignored his request to continue the
"Scornful Lady," Anne proved sufficiently mistress of the interruption
to astonish the intruder by her "discourse and sprightly wit." That
innate breeding, of which no amount of poverty could deprive her,

came to the surface, to show that a woman of quality is none the worse
for a surprise. Farquhar, bowing low with a grace that made his faded
clothes seem the pink of fashion, poured forth a torrent of flowery
compliments, which became all the stronger when he heard that the girl
knew Beaumont and Fletcher nearly by heart. She must have blushed,
looking prettier than ever, as the visitor went on; and how that young
heart did leap as he predicted for her a glorious future on the stage! The
stage! the Ultima Thule of all her hopes! The very idea of acting filled
her head with a thousand bewildering fancies, and, as she told
Chetwood in after years, "I longed to be at it, and only wanted a little
decent intreaties."
The decent intreaties were forthcoming. Nance's mother, who evidently
rejoiced in a prophetic spirit not given to all parents, strongly agreed
with Farquhar's opinion that the young lady should try a theatrical
career, and the upshot of the whole episode was that Captain Vanbrugh
took an interest in the newly-found jewel. This was a high honour.
Vanbrugh had not yet made for himself a reputation as an architect by
building Blenheim Castle for the Marlboroughs, nor had he changed his
title of Captain for Sir John; but he was a great man, nevertheless, a
successful dramatist and a boon companion of Christopher Rich,
manager of Drury Lane. When the enthusiastic Farquhar sounded the
praises of Anne Oldfield the future Sir John quickly repaired to the sign
of the Mitre, with which, no doubt, he was already familiar, and met
the young enchantress of that historic little room behind the bar. The
arrival of this second and more distinguished captain was evidently the
signal for a family council. We can see them all--Nance, glowing with
excitement, her Brahmin-like, aristocratic beauty heightened by a dash
of natural colour, quite different from the rouge she might use later;
Mrs. Voss, sleepy, comfortable, and well pleased; and Mrs. Oldfield,
full of importance and maternal solicitude. Vanbrugh, with his
good-humoured smile and military bearing, talks in a fatherly way to
the daughter, is deeply impressed with her many attractions, and is not
sorry to learn that her ambition is all for comedy. He promises to use
his good offices with Mr. Rich to have her enrolled as a member of the
Drury Lane company, keeps his word, too--something for a gentleman
to do in the year 1699--and soon has the satisfaction of seeing his new

protégée hobnobbing with Mrs. Verbruggen, Wilks, Cibber, and other
players of the house, while drawing fifteen shillings a week for the
privilege.
To hobnob, receive a few shillings, and do next to nothing on the stage
does not seem a glorious beginning