He would appear in bizarre costumes of his own design, invent new scenes and dialogue mid-show, and repeat parts of the play he particularly liked—usually dramatic death scenes—up to three or four times a night.
Coates died in London in 1848, aged about 76, after a Hansom cab driver hit him outside the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane.
When he inherited his father's estate and a large collection of diamonds in 1807, he moved to Bath, England, where he lived as a man of fashion.
[1] He eventually drew the attention of the manager of the Theatre Royal, Bath and had begun to appear in plays in 1809, though not as a professional actor.
The costume had a flowing, sky-blue cloak with sequins, red pantaloons, a vest of white muslin, a large cravat, and a plumed "opera hat," according to Captain Rees Howell Gronow – not to mention dozens of diamonds – which was hardly suitable for the part.
Then, during Romeo's death scene, Coates carefully placed his hat on the ground for a pillow and used his dirty handkerchief to dust the stage before lying on it.
Coates was the victim of a prank orchestrated by Theodore Hook, who had famously coordinated the Berners Street hoax in 1810, a few years before.
The Prince Regent was at the time holding "a fête of surpassing magnificence" at Carlton House, and Coates "in his glory- murdering Shakespeare at the Haymarket"; imitating the Chamberlain's handwriting, Hook produced a ticket "commanding the presence of Signor Romeo" and, dressing himself in fine scarlet livery, delivered this flattering but fake invitation to Coates in person.
Hook waited to watch Coates embark for the event in his carriage, "bedizened in all his finery, with a diamond-hilted sword and the air of Louis le Grand".
The Prince, unwittingly involved in Hook's prank, regretted that Coates had been turned away, observing him to be an "inoffensive gentleman", and noting that "his presence might have amused many of the guests, and could have done harm to no one."
"[5] Coates was never a professional actor, and only made his stage appearances in support of charitable causes: his own nickname of choice was 'the Celebrated Philanthropic Amateur'.
[1][6] Later he fell into financial difficulties and to avoid creditors moved to Boulogne-sur-Mer,[7] where he met Emma Anne Robinson, daughter of a naval lieutenant.
He was caught and crushed between a Hansom cab and a private carriage as he was leaving a performance at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane on 15 February, and died at home six days later.