musical ear; so that she could not catch the sounds or emphases taught her, but fell into disagreeable tones.’ Davies adds that Lord Rochester ‘taught her not only the proper cadence or sounding of the voice, but to seize also the passions, and adapt her whole behaviour to the situations of the character.’ According to Curll, Rochester made a considerable wager that in the space of six months she would be one of the most approved performers of the theatre.
The first recorded appearance of Mrs. Barry took place in or about 1673 as Isabella the queen of Hungary, in ‘Mustapha,’ a tragedy by the Earl of Orrery. The scene was Dorset Garden, then occupied by what was known as the Duke's Company. Her first performance is said to have been witnessed by Charles II and the Duke and Duchess of York. The duchess, Maria Beatrice of Modena, afterwards queen, is stated to have been so pleased as to have presented her wedding suit to the actress, from whom she subsequently took lessons in the English language. In later years, when queen, she is said to have given Mrs. Barry her coronation robes in which to appear as Queen Elizabeth in Banks's tragedy of the ‘Earl of Essex.’ Such facts as are known concerning Mrs. Barry show her selfish and mercenary. On Otway, in whose pieces her highest reputation was made, and whose best characters are said to have been inspired by her, her influence was maleficent. Tom Brown speaks, in language too strong to be quoted, of her immorality and greed. Her professional career is a record of sustained effort. She was the ‘creator’ of considerably more than one hundred rôles, including most of the heroines of the tragedy of her day: Monimia in the ‘Orphan,’ Cordelia in Tate's version of ‘King Lear,’ Belvidera in ‘Venice Preserved,’ Isabella in Southeme's ‘Fatal Marriage,’ Cassandra in Dryden's ‘Cleomenes,’ and Zara in Congreve's ‘Mourning Bride.’ The part of most importance she created in comedy was perhaps Lady Brute in Vanbrugh's ‘Provoked Wife.’ Concerning her appearance opinions differ. Her portrait by Sir Godfrey Kneller shows her with her hair drawn back from a face that is bright and intellectual rather than handsome, but is lighted up by eyes of singular beauty. Aston says: ‘She was not handsome, her mouth opening most on the right side, which she strove to draw t'other way, and at times composing her face as if sitting to have her picture drawn. She was middle-sized, and had darkish hair, light eyes, dark eyebrows, and was indifferent plump. She had a manner of drawing out her words, which became her.’ Hamilton, in his ‘Memoirs of Grammont,’ is supposed to refer to her when he says that the public was obliged to Rochester ‘for the prettiest, but, at the same time, the worst actress in the kingdom.’ It seems scarcely probable that Hamilton can in these strong words have indicated a woman who has come to be regarded as one of the first actresses of the time. Colley Cibber says: ‘Mrs. Barry, in characters of greatness, had a presence of elevated dignity, her mien and motion superb and gracefully majestick; her voice full, clear, and strong, so that no violence of passion could be too much for her. And when distress or tenderness possessed her she subsided into the most affecting melody and softness. In the art of exciting pity she had a power beyond all the actresses I have yet seen, or what your imagination can conceive’ (Apology, p. 133, ed. 1750). Aston, who seems inclined to disparage her, admits that ‘in tragedy she was solemn and august; in free comedy, alert, easy, and genteel, pleasant in her face and action, filling the stage with variety of gesture.’ Betterton, moreover, in the record of his conversations preserved in the so-called ‘Life’ assigned to Gildon (p. 39), calls her ‘incomparable;’ classes her as ‘the principal’ among those players who seem always to be in earnest, and adds that ‘her action is always just, and produc'd naturally by the sentiments of the part.’ Testimony such as this must outweigh all opposition, of which Mrs. Barry had to encounter a fair share, most of it, however, directed rather against her life than her acting. To the verdicts recorded need only be added the assertion of Davies that ‘Mrs. Barry was mistress of all the passions of the mind; love, joy, grief, rage, tenderness, and jealousy were all represented by her with equal skill and equal effect.’ Her delivery of special lines has been held to be singularly happy, and her acting is said by Betterton to have ‘given success to plays that would disgust the most patient reader.’ She was in the habit of weeping real tears during her performance of pathetic character, conforming thus with a well-known Horatian maxim rather than with the subsequently expressed theory of Diderot in ‘Le Paradoxe sur le Comédien.’ Cibber says that the system of benefits was first established on behalf of Mrs. Barry. These are supposed to have been reserved for authors until James II commanded a benefit in her interest, and the custom became thenceforward established. Four years before the accession of James II, however, an agreement between Betterton and Charles Davenant with Smith, Hart, and Kynaston, dated 14 Oct. 1681, speaks of young men and women playing for their own profit only. Of the many stories told con-
