The younger Mr. Greatheed at that time was, I believe, about twelve years of age. His recollections of Mrs. Siddons, and her future history, gave him an interest in our great actress that lasted for life. George Greatheed, though unsuccessful as a poet, was a most honourable and estimable man. He wrote the "Regent," an indifferent tragedy, and, having joined the Della Cruscans, came under the savage vituperation of Gifford. But his scathed laurels never lowered him in Mrs. Siddons's regard. Whilst she remained at Guy's Cliff she received several visits from Mr. Siddons; and her parents, seeing that the attachment was serious, ceased to oppose it. In her nineteenth year she was united to the object of her choice, her own father giving her away. They were married at Trinity church, Coventry, November 26, 1773; and on the 4th of the October following, their eldest son, Henry, was born, at Wolverhampton. CONTENTS. Mrs. Siddons acts at Cheltenham-Meets with the Hon. CHAPTER II. IN the course of the year 1774, Mr. and Mrs. Siddons were both engaged to act at Cheltenham. That place, though now an opulent and considerable town, consisted in those days of only one tolerable street, through the middle of which ran a clear stream of water, with stepping-stones that served as a bridge. At that time, the Honourable Miss Boyle, the only daughter of Lord Dungarvon, Boyle a most accomplished woman, and authoress of several pleasing poems, one of which, "An Ode to the Poppy," was published by Charlotte Smith, happened to be at Cheltenham. She had come, accompanied by her mother, and her mother's second husband, the Earl of Aylesbury. One morning that she and some other fashionables went to the box-keeper's office, they were told that the tragedy to be performed that evening was "Venice Preserved." They all laughed heartily, and promised themselves a treat of the ludicrous, in the misrepresentation of the piece. Some one who overheard their mirth kindly reported it to Mrs. Siddons. She had the part of Belvidera allotted to her, and prepared for the performance of it with no very enviable feelings. It may be doubted indeed whether Otway had imagined in Belvidera a personage more to be pitied than her representative now thought herself. The rabble, in "Venice Preserved," showed compassion for the heroine, and, when they saw her feather-bed put up to auction, "governed their roaring throats, and grumbled pity." But our actress anticipated refined scorners, more pitiless than the rabble: and the prospect was certainly calculated to pre |