It is odd to find a stage wig invested with political significance, viewed almost as a cabinet question, considered as a possible provocation of hostilities between two great nations; yet something of this kind happened some fifty years ago.  Mr. Bunn, then manager of Covent Garden Theatre, had adapted to the English stage Monsieur Scribe’s capital comedy of “Bertrand et Raton.”  The scene of the play, it may be stated, is laid at Copenhagen, and the subject relates to the intrigues that preceded the fall of Struensee in 1772.  The adaptation was duly submitted to George Colman, the examiner of plays, and was by him forwarded to the Earl of Belfast, then Lord Chamberlain, with an observation that the work contained nothing of a kind that was inadmissible upon the English stage.

Suddenly a rumour was born, and rapidly attained growth and strength, to the purport that the leading character of Count Bertrand was designed to be a portraiture of Talleyrand, at that time the French ambassador at the court of St. James’s.  Some hesitation arose as to licensing the play, and on the 17th of January, 1834, the authorities decided to prohibit its representation.  Mr. Bunn sought an interview with the Chamberlain, urging a reversal of the judgment, and undertaking to make any retrenchments and modifications of the work that might be thought expedient.  The manager could only obtain a promise that the matter should be further considered.  Already the stage had been a source of trouble to the political and diplomatic world.  It was understood that the Swedish ambassador had abruptly withdrawn from the court of the Tuileries in consequence of the production in Paris of a vaudeville called “Le Camarade au Lit,” reflecting, so many held, upon the early life of Bernadotte, King of Sweden.  That nothing of this kind should happen in London the Chamberlain was determined.  He read the comedy most carefully and, having marked several passages as objectionable, forwarded it to the examiner, from whom, in due course, Mr. Bunn received the following characteristic note: 

     “January 20th, 1834.

“MY DEAR B.—­With all we have to do, I don’t see how I can return the manuscript with alterations before to-morrow.  Pray dine with me to-day at half-past five—­but come at four.  We shall then have time to cut the play before we cut the mutton.

     “Yours most truly,

     “G.C.”

Both these “cuttings” were successfully accomplished, and on the 25th of January the comedy was officially licensed.  Still the authorities were uneasy.  A suspicion prevailed that Mr. Farren, who was to sustain the part of Bertrand, meditated dressing and “making up” after the manner of Talleyrand.  Sir Thomas Mash, the comptroller of the Chamberlain’s office, made direct inquiries in this respect.  The manager supplied a sketch of the costume to be worn by the actor.  “I knew it was to be submitted to the king,” writes Mr. Bunn, and he looked forward to the result with anxious curiosity.  On the 7th of February came an answer from Sir Thomas Mash.  “I have the pleasure to return your drawing without a syllable of objection.”  On the 8th, “Bertrand et Raton,” under the name of “The Minister and the Mercer,” was first produced on the English stage.