| Citation |
BC.769.125
30 Oct-2 Nov 1769:3531,3532,3533 (141)
Memoirs of the Life of the late Mr. William Powell,
Comedian. [3-column essay with following specific
references:]
Having long entertained a strong desire to appear upon
the stage, and having frequently met with the greatest
elogiums in the repetition of some of the principal
characters in private companies, he waited upon Mr. Garrick,
. . . [who] engaged him at a genteel salary for his theatre.
[Description of appearance.] His peculiar forte lay in
feelings, which he displayed, perhaps beyond any other actor
that ever appeared on the stage.
His first appearance was at Drury Lane theatre, in the
tragi-comedy of Philaster, . . .
Nor was his success in genteel comedy inferior to the
just applause he met with in tragedy; his representation of
Lord Townley, was spirited, characteristic, and genteel.
[Played most of major parts, descriptions of his
abilities.]
After having performed for three years at Drury Lane
Theatre, upon Mr. Beard's retiring from the stage, and the
patent of Covent Garden house being proposed to sale, he
united with Messrs. Coleman, Harris, and Rutherford, in the
purchase of it. . . In the altercations which ensued
between the managers of Covent-Garden Theatre, Mr. Powell
most prudently and judiciously united with Mr. Colman, whose
knowledge of theatrical government so justly entitled him to
the direction that was voluntarily conferred upon him by the
other patentees.
Notwithstanding these intestine feuds in the green-room,
the audience have constantly been unanimous, in applauding
the regulations of Mr. Colman, . . .
[Powell married happily, but was involved in a few
dalliances.]
Mr. Powell being engaged with Mess Holland and Clark, in
the management of the Bristol Theatre during the summer
campaign, repaired thither after the close of the London
season. He appeared this year only twice upon that stage,
before he was seized with a violent fever. Jaffier, in
Venice Preserved, was the last part he performed, being
attacked the following day. . . [by] a violent cold he
caught after playing at cricket, when he carelessly threw
himself upon the grass without his cloaths, whilst in a
great heat from the exercise.
. . . The play of King Richard was to be performed that
night [on which he died]; and the sad intelligence being
brought to the theatre just as the curtain drew up, the
managers could not gratify their own and the company's
wishes, not to perform, without the highest disrespect to
the audience; the actors, therefore exerted all their
efforts to discharge their respective characters--but what
an affecting instance was it of the true regard they bore to
their lost brother, and of the humanity of the spectators!
Scarce an actor appeared without streaming eyes and a broken
voice. The fictitious lamentations in the second act for
the loss of King Edward, were converted into real anguish
for their own loss, and aggrivated their sensations so much,
that Mr. Holland was compelled to apologize for their
incapacity to acquit themselves as usual. This the humane
audience readily admitted by their sympathetic feelings and
appearance, and even approved those defects which had their
source in friendship and affection. They moreover, when
desired to accept of a farce different from what was
advertised, loudly declared their willingness to depart
without any.
He was on the Thursday following conveyed to College-
Green, when the funeral service was performed by the Dean of
Bristol, and an anthem sung over the body by the choir. . .
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