Garrick Yard, together with the more familiar Garrick Street to the northeast of here, both took their names from the Garrick Club which commemorates the famous 18th century actor, David Garrick.
As a young man of 18 years of age, David Garrick left his native town of Lichfield on the 2 March 1737 and set out for London sharing a horse with his tutor, Samuel Johnson. Whilst Johnson had high hopes of winning fame in the world of literature, Garrick came to complete his education in law, a profession he was very soon diverted from in preference for the stage.
The two arrived in the capital with only four pence between them and were forced into pleading with a bookseller friend of the Garrick family to lend them five pounds. After spending a short period at a college in Rochester, David Garrick’s sentiment for the theatre compelled him to terminate his studies, and with his elder brother, Peter, went into the business of selling wine as a stop-gap while awaiting the opportunity to present himself as an actor.
It was in March 1741 when Garrick got his big break and until his death on 20 January 1779 he enjoyed the fame and popularity attributed to the greatest of actors in his time. Boswell said of him: ‘the undisputed monarch of the British stage; is probably in fact the greatest actor who has ever lived.’ He further went on in praise of his achievements: ‘A clever playwright, occasional poet, and adapter; manager of Drury Lane Theatre. Has accumulated a fortune; owns a splendid house with a fine library.’ In applause of his artistry Boswell enthused in these words: ‘A small man whose behaviour on the stage is so natural that one forgets that he is acting’.
Samuel Johnson, who had remained a friend of Garrick throughout his life, commented on the death of the actor: ‘Garrick’s death is a striking event; not that we should be surprised with the death of any man who has lived sixty-two years; but because there was a vivacity in our late celebrated friend, which drove away the thoughts of death from any association with him. I am sure you [Boswell] will be tenderly affected with his departure…’
Johnson would not hear the name of Garrick slandered and neither would he let it be implied that Garrick was infected with airs and graces or was mean. When Mrs Burney, wife of his friend Dr Charles Burney, suggested that Garrick’s funeral was an ‘extravagantly expensive’ occasion with accusations that there were six horses to each coach, he swiftly jumped to the defence: ‘Madam, there were no more six horses than six phoenixes.’
It is quite fitting and proper that this great performer should be commemorated in the area where he lived and so often tramped the boards, but it is such a great pity that the Yard associated with his name is now an ignoble grubby monument. If the dirty iron gates were not baring your way you would no more relish the experience of venturing within its walls than a swim in the Fleet Sewer at high tide.
