The Duchess of Drury Lane by Freda Lightfoot Page A

to achieve public favour then you would not find me ungrateful for the help you have afforded me. I would work hard for you, sir, always.’
    Thinking I’d perhaps sounded a mite too full of myself before, I flushed a little as I tried to explain. ‘When I said earlier that I could do all, what I meant to say is that I have performed in all, although I prefer comedy, and the opera was of the comic variety.’
    He nodded, dismissing my rudeness with a wave of his hand. ‘My only concern is that in all honesty I can only pay you fifteen shillings a week, hardly enough to keep the entire family.’
    Mama hastened to say how that was of no account, as if we had no need of money; that George too could sing and would willingly help backstage. ‘And Hester could play small parts and help with costume, would you not, my dear?’
    ‘Of course,’ she agreed, eyes bright with hope.
    Wilkinson seemed reasonably satisfied with this, and offered me the part of Calista in the very play from which I had quoted, the very next Thursday. ‘To be followed by the role of Lucy in The Virgin Unmasked .’
    I was overwhelmed, and thanked him profusely, while privately recognizing the irony of such a role.
    Mama was casting me telling glances, urging me to keep my secret a while longer, until I had proved myself. ‘And may she sing too?’ my mother pressed. ‘She does a wonderful rendition of “The Greenwood Laddie”.’
    Wilkinson looked somewhat surprised by this request. ‘How can Calista die pathetically and then come on all alive and singing a pretty ballad?’
    I hastened to assure him there would be a slight pause, and that I’d make a complete distinction between the two performances.
    He still looked unconvinced. ‘I shall consider the suggestion, but are you quite certain you can handle comedy as well as tragedy?’
    I fully understood his reservations, as he’d seen little sign of the merry side of my nature in my miserable, bedraggled appearance at the inn. In addition, he was well respected, not only in the local community but nationwide, and had a reputation to maintain. As Calista was a role usually given to a serious actress of note, not a young newcomer, I again expressed my gratitude. ‘I will not let you down.’
    ‘Then the matter is settled. I shall expect you at the theatre first thing.’
    The rehearsals were long and much tougher than I had ever experienced before, though this was no bad thing. I wanted to work, to learn and improve. I spared no effort to attain a high standard, and fortunately I still cut a reasonably slender figure, not showing much at all, as yet. The slight swell of my stomach could easily be disguised with a full-skirted gown. And I loved every moment of it. The Fair Penitent , a Restoration drama in blank verse, was very popular with audiences and I gave of my very best, wishing to do the power of the words justice.
    To be fair, Wilkinson stood by his agreement to allow me to sing at the end of the performance, and changed the programme accordingly.
    When the first night arrived I was, as usual, terribly beset with nerves, which thankfully vanished the moment I went on. The play was reasonably well received, although it was a small house since folk don’t turn out for a newcomer, and the Yorkshire cotton workers in the audience were not an easy public to please. At the end I jumped back on stage, dressed in my frock, with my mob cap atop my mop of brown curls, and sang ‘The Greenwood Laddie’ without accompaniment.
    To my complete delight, the Leeds audience loved it. Not only that, they leapt to their feet and applauded. The reviewers the next day said that I possessed the necessary vivacity, confidence and natural stage presence required, and that my voice was strong and clear and true.
    Mama was jubilant at my success and I was duly granted a benefit by way of a launch, playing to a packed house early in August. Following this success, Tate Wilkinson offered me a