RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR BY WALTER DONALDSON NEVER BEFORE PRINTED LONDON JOHN MAXWELL AND COMPANY 122 FLEET STREET M DCCC LXV '[All rights reserved] * LONDON : BOBSON AND SON, GREAT NORTHERN PRINTING WORKS, PANCBAS ROAD, N.W. PREFACE WHEN a man has long passed the scriptural confines of life, the emphatic three-score-and-ten, he may be ac- quitted of all vanity of authorship, all idea of frivolous display, in throwing his production on the waters of public opinion ; and hope behind the aegis of seventy -six winters to obtain the indulgence of the reader, while he escapes the censure of the critic. Such consideration on the one side, and kindly neglect on the other, the Author of these " Recollections" solicits, less on account of his age than from the generous indul- gence of those he is pleased to regard as his patrons. The events which occur in the life of every man, if honestly and impartially recounted, possess, however im- perfectly told, a certain amount of interest, and often of instruction ; but the career of a provincial actor, whose professional duties are perpetually leading him into new scenes, mixing him up with fresh characters, and associat- ing him in a sort of masonic brotherhood with theatricals of all specialities of art and degrees of professional excel- lence, affords opportunities, indeed advantages, for collect- ing facts, hearing anecdotes, and observing natural beau - ties of scenery, that seldom fall to the lot of any other individual. The consequent gleaning of such facts and scraps, spread over a harvest -time of sixty years, can hardly fail, when bound up in the literary sheaf of a volume, to afford some amount of amusement to those who take pleasure in the sayings and doings of the profession, the records of the stage, or the on-dits of past and present theatrical celebrities. Such anas the collection of a long life jotted down from memory years after they occurred, but authentic in M80673 IV PREFACE. all their main features, are here presented to the public, in the belief that to the lover of the drama facts associ- ated with such names as Kemble, Macklin, Cooke, Ellis- ton, Macready, Booth, Hollman, Mrs. Siddons, Mrs. Re- naud, Miss Smith (Mrs. Bartley), Miss O'Neill, and many others who, since the opening of the present century, have figured on the English and French stage, will to a certain extent be acceptable, and at least afford a few half -hours of pleasant and faithful reminiscence. The assassination of President Lincoln has given an unenviable notoriety to the name of Booth ; yet the author believes that the account to be found in these pages of the assassin's father, Junius Brutus Booth, will be read with some degree of interest, because it was written long previous to the Washington tragedy, and has the advan- tage of being drawn from personal knowledge and an almost intimate acquaintance with that at times most excitable character. The death of Mrs. T. Moore, the widow of Ireland's great poet, since this work was placed in the printer's hands, has prevented the fact of her decease being re- corded in its proper place, under those anecdotes con- nected with Miss Dyke (Mrs. Moore) and the poet in their youthful days, when the one as an actress, and the other as an amateur, charmed the fashionable society of Kilkenny. A few omissions, mortuary and otherwise, may have occurred among that galaxy of genius and talent, in the musical and histrionic branches of art, with whom the au- thor in his days of youth and vigour mixed or associated ; but when it is borne in mind that infirmity and accident have impaired his physical energies, and compelled him in his old age to educate his left hand to write his manu- script, he hopes that some allowance will be made for any imperfections which may be found in his " RECOLLEC- TIONS OF AN ACTOR'S LIFE." London, October 1865. CONTEXTS. CHAPTER I. ctions on the vitiated taste of the Puhlic in respect to Dramatic Literature ; and on the necessity of a strictly National Theatre Recollections of the Dublin Theatre Royal in 1809 Frederick Edwin Jones Memoir of Montague Talbot Richard Jones Lines by Crofton Croker Charles Young, first appearance Biographical h of Henry Johnson T. P. Cooke as Clown, and James Wallack as Low Comedian Memoir of the celebrated Belzoni ; his career as a Mountebank and an Explorer of Egyptian antiquities p. 1 CHAPTER II. Reminiscences of Dublin continued Jack Johnstone His successful career as a delineator of Irish Character Gives his daughter 20,0002. on her marriage with James Wallack Robert William Elliston Holman and Elliston com- pared Conway Mrs. Jordan's debut in Dublin Death of an Actor on the Stage Williams Fi; ;ince of Thomas Fhillipps the Vocalist Salaries fifty years ago Miss Smith (Mrs. Bartley) as Lady Macbeth. Mrs, Stewart and Mrs. Liston The Misses Dykes Tom Cooke and the Orchestra of the Dublin Theatre Cooke's success as a Vocalist Amateur theatricals at Kilkenny, with Moore the Poet, and Sir Win. Beecher, Miss 6'Neill's husband, in the cast Remarkable marriages of Actresses How to cure a stage-struck youth Horsewhipping Lord Randolph p. 28 CHAPTER HI. O'Xeill Memoir of Conway New Theatre in Hawkins Street Anecdote of the lady who was buried alive Mana- ger Harwood The Preaching Player Edmund Kean and Connolly Sheridan Knowles, in the double capacity of strolling actor and schoolmaster , . . . p t 71 VI CONTENTS. CHAPTER IV. A Strolling Company in the West of Scotland Greenock and the scenery of the Clyde The last days of an old Actor Moss, Macklin's pupil A Manager and his Company in the Lock-up The Players driven from Whitehaven, be- cause they frightened the herrings from the nets London Theatricals in 181G The Rival Houses Kean, Mrs. Bart- ley, Sinclair, Emery, Miss Stephens, Mrs. Egerton Lu Junius Brutus Booth Maywood: his debut and failure Croyden Theatre in 1817 Tyrone Power in 1818 and ! Opening of the Coburg, and list of Company Theatre at Peckham Buckstone as Walking Gentleman, and Power as Light Comedian Greenwich Theatre opened by Saville Faucit Planch6's debut as an Actor First appearance of Miss Huddart Mrs. Warner . . . . p. 88 CHAPTER V. Beading Circuit Anecdote of Thornton the Manager Stock- ton Emley Weymouth in its palmy days George thu Third's nightly Visit to the little Theatre The Kin kindly consideration towards a poor Actor Novel way of erecting a Theatre The Nottingham Circuit under Manly and Robertson 'Beggars and Ballad-singers 1 Sain in the Nottingham Circuit Wrench Exchun-v of L - Eccentric Conduct of Manly Anecdote of Webb and Davis A Theatrical Challenge An Actor's sense of Honour . p. 11.') CHAPTER VI. Liverpool Dramatic privileges forty years ago Banks and Lewis Fatal Duel between Booth and Diavolo Antonio the Slack-wire Dancer Lewis's munificent Gift to tlu Nation Mrs. Glover's Hamlet Southampton under Max- field Kelly and Collins Sheridan Knowles Mr. and Mrs. West Maria, Ellen, and Anne Tree Fawcett and Bann : The Young Roscius Incledon's Farewell at Southamp- ton ; his meanness and vanity Memoir of Dowton ; his Address on Incledon's retirement Braham. Listen Faw- cett Manchester Elton Stanfield Memoir of David Rees ^.131 CHAPTER VII. Bristol ' Mother Goose' Bradbury the Clown Liston Sun- deiiand Stephen Kemble The original Jem Bag^s Rayner The African Roscius Hamlet and Othello's dress CONTEXTS. Vll in Garrick's time Newcastle Sam Butler Kean as Har- lequin in * Mother Goose' Windsor Theatre Benjamin Webster as the Low Comedian M. Laurent, Director of the Italian Opera Speculation of the English dramatic Company in Paris List of the Company engaged, with the Salaries given Miss Sniithson Terry, Abbott, Miss Foote, Bond, Charles Mason, &c. Italian Opera at Paris Mali- bran Eossini Balfe The Claqueurs of the French The- atreMichael Kelly The French Stage in 1828 Reflec- tions on Edmund Kean's acting of Richard, Othello, Shy- lock, and Macbeth Honours paid to Charles Kean Pre- sentation of Plate 2>* 158 CHAPTER vrn. Professor Blackie on Dramatic Literature Tax levied in France for the poor on all Theatrical Amusements French Pawnbrokers Government grants to French Theatres Piachel as a girl singing in the cafes Peg Woffington Theatrical Fund in France A poor Musician Salaries of Tom Ccoke, Kean, George Frederick Cooke, Garrick, &c. I and dom > of England and France Eng- lish Clowns and Pantomimes introduced into Paris p. nil CHAPTER IX, Kean engaged at the Olympic for 47. a- week, but secured by Lane The Management clear is, (inn/, the first n. tiiul are saved from Bankruptcy John Kemhlu's failure in Gloucestershire, and Sir Giles Overreach Mac- kissed on the Staire by a Mob of excited Frenchmen Second attempt to establish the English Drama in Franco in is4-l Sensible Arrangement as regards Talent and Sa- laries on the Parisian Sta-v I'Miraniiii swindled at Birming- ham Novel arrangement about Benefits in Paris Marshal Ney Pere-la- Chaise The Napoleon Museum The Irish Brigade p. 233 CHAPTER X. The Author returns to England Western Circuit Weymouth, natural and artificial Beauties of the Town and Country The Poyal Box at the Theatre Rise of the Bedford Family Isle of Portland, ancient History George III. teaching a Peasant's Wife how to make a Plum-pudding Duchess of St. Alban's generosity Recitations and Lectures the ruin of the Drama Purbeck and Corfe Castle The Romans and Saxons A native Genius The Channel Islands Guernsey described ; natural Characters and Climate VU1 CONTENTS. Smugglers' Caves The Capital, St. Peter's Port Public Buildings Theatre and Theatricals Historical Recollec- tions Price of Commodities Kean meets with a generous Patron Laws of the Island Fertility and Beauty of the Soil and Climate . . . ... . .#.203 CHAPTER XI. The Islands continued Different Classes of the Inhabitants ; divided according to their incomes An effective Police- force of three Officers and one Man Jersey, St. Heliers : Natural Beauties and Geological Characters of the Island The Theatre, Castle, and Public Buildings Historical Recollections View of Jersey from the Prince's Tower Theatricals and Amateurs Meeting Chippendale and old friends M. Alexandre the conjuror Mr. O'Neill, nephew of Lady Beecher Vicissitudes of a Lecturer's career Hugo Vamp, alias O'Neill Gerald Griffin, author of ' The Collegians' Colman, the licenser of plays Banim and the O'Hara Tales Remarks on Sheridan Knowles Opinion on the London Theatres in 1824 Mrs. Siddons's prophecy of the future greatness of Macready, while a youth in his father's company p. 203 CHAPTER XII. The Drama and its objects Arnold, manager of the Lyceum Opinion of the English Opera Lines on the Poets of the day Griffin's Career Kemble's progress in London \\\< Retirement and Death Conclusion . . .p. 334 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR CHAPTER;., Eeflections on the vitiated taste of the Public in respect to Dramatic Literature ; and on the necessity of a strictly National Theatre Recollections of the Dublin Theatre Royal in 1809 Frederick Edwin Jones Memoir of Montague Talbot Richard Jones Lines by Crofton Croker Charles Young, first appearance Biographical sketch of Henry Johnson T. P. Cooke as Clown, and James Wallack as Low Comedian Memoir of the cele- brated Belzoni ; his career as a Mountebank, and an Ex- plorer of Egyptian Antiquities. THOSE members of the community who have wit- nessed sixty or seventy summers have ever ex- pressed their opinion in respect to the state of the drama in the present day, and lament its decadence. Those aged characters have been pronounced by their more juvenile brethren as " dotards " and " enemies to progression " plainly intimating that 1 2 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. the drama has made as rapid strides as science and the arts in general. If we come to look at the scenic effects and the details of the theatre at the present time, certainly there is 110 denying this assertion; but where can we witness the sublime efforts of a Kemble or a Siddons, or be roused to ecstasy by the mercurial flights of a Lewis or an Elliston? Alas! nowhere. Instead of displays^ of extraordinary powers in nightly changed -of coir pure and legitimate drama, , the, town js Jbored with a sensational production that ^ttCKopcldses -life whole of a season, and thus strikes at the root of all improvement in the actor, who night after night and week after week walks on and off the stage like a piece of mechanism. A highly-talented journalist, a short time since, speaking on the degeneracy of the drama, says: " A manager who is making his fortune by show- ing a series of scenes, which culminate in a brutal Irish murder, can call in the law to restrain a body of gentlemen who may take a hall and enact a Greek or Latin play or a tragedy of Shakespeare's, if admission is charged for at the doors. a The educated, and those who desire to be so, are actually debarred from high-class relaxation for the sake of protecting vested interests in com- parative rubbish for theatres constantly open for the higher drama mil not pay; but occasional per- FREE-TRADE IN THE DRAMA. 3 formanees, in which a high standard could be aimed at, and natural instead of theatrical* acting might be practised, would probably do so, and would set an example that might produce good. "But these are unlawful; and a manager who should open a house on such conditions would be fined, and sent to prison if he did not pay the fine. The only objection to a free drama is one which only frightens those who half think. " There are a number of music-halls, in which a very low class amuse themselves with bad music and worse sinning, interspersed with most abject ribaldry it is ' feared ' that throwing open the drama would encourage these places." I cannot fall in with the views of the above writer, that free-trade in theatrical matters would advance the legitimate drama. Free-trade, certainly, in corn has given the poor man a cheap loaf; but in a dramatic sense it would have a contrary effect. If we look back to the period when the two great metropolitan theatres possessed the patent right and monopolised the drama, what city in Europe could vie with London for talent of the very first order? but the moment the door of the * By this remark we are to understand that experienced actors are not natural that is, only to be found within the walls of an amateur theatre, This is news indeed, 4 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. Temple of the Muses was opened, every adventurer rushed in, and the divine bard was superseded for mummery and extravaganza. They manage these things much better in Paris by the admirable arrangement in regard to the re- creations of the people rendering it a matter of impossibility for any publican to encroach on the rights of the theatre by erecting a stage on his premises. The writer just quoted has laid down a plan which he conceives would be likely to restore the public taste for the works of our best authors which is, for a number of gentlemen of talent and education to form a society, take a building, and perform our sterling and legitimate drama. This, I am afraid, would never produce the desired effect. No matter what innate ability an individual may possess no matter how educated, aided, and assisted in personal accomplishments, and adorned with elocutionary powers yet with- out provincial experience, a judicious audience could not be satisfied. The dramatic profession is an art, and acknow- ledged by the first men in the land as the most difficult in existence; then, if it surpasses the mili- tary art in attainment, it must have the same means of accomplishing its mysteries. In the army, before a man is intrusted with a REQUISITES OF AN ACTOR. 5 command, he must have gone through the various grades such as sub-lieutenant, lieutenant, cap- tain, major, and lieutenant-colonel. And in the navy, the aspirant even if a scion of Royalty must take his position in the gun-room as the humble middy before he is entitled to the epaulette of the lieutenant. So in the dramatic art, To form the accom- plished actor, at least one capable of going through the ordeal of a metropolitan audience, actual ex- perience is necessary. If we search the history of the stage, we shall find that the Kembles, Siddonses, Jordans, Cookes, Keans, and O'Neills, all gained their proficiency in the humble and unassuming coimtry theatre; and all were cheered and encouraged by an unso- phisticated public, unswayed by partial and ful- some flattery in the shape of newspaper critiques. In such places people go to be amused, and are determined to judge for themselves, independent of all puffing consequently, a true estimate was found of the actor's merits; but in the case of a number of amateur gentlemen attempting, for in- stance, such a tragedy as c Othello,' the ancient critic, that perhaps had witnessed Kean and Young in the Moor and lago, would not be over- tenacious in giving a public opinion which might damage the theatrical undertaking. No; there is 6 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. only one mode likely to restore the public taste, and that is to erect a theatre in the metropolis to be devoted exclusively to the legitimate drama of the country. A theatre that should be free from pantomime, burlesque, and all trifling productions in fact, on such principles as the Theatre Fran^ais in Paris open all the year round, and where the intellectual may go and witness the sterling and elevating drama of the nation at any time. Then, it may be asked, how can such a struc- ture be raised, how supported, if deprived of the golden harvest at Christmas the entertainment for the old and young children "the comic panto- mime"? Why, by the same means as they have raised funds for an "Opera Company;" and surely we have sufficient wealth and mind to form such an establishment, where the works of the greatest writers of any country could be represented, wor- thy of the nation which stands as the first in wealth and enterprise throughout the world. It is true, that at first the difficulties will be great; so they were in the United States before an army of efficiency was formed. The actor, like the soldier, demands a drilling; the tutor in the college or drawing-room cannot do much ; the barn and the country manager will do more, for his is a practical art. But for a London R. B. SHERIDAN AS MANAGER 7 legitimate theatre, what manager is the most eligible to satisfy the ideas of those that wish to witness the days of Kemble revived? Why, such a man as succeeded David Garrick Eichard Brinsley Sheri- dan; not an acting manager, but one capable of pre- siding over the drama, free from the petty jealousies of a Garrick or any other theatrical despot. What was the consequence of Sheridan's rule at old Drury? An advance in the actor's income, and the introduction of the greatest woman of her age to a London audience Mrs. Siddons. Not only was the queen of tragedy placed on the highest pinnacle of dramatic fame by the author of the ' School for Scandal;' but another wonder, the most surprising comic actress of any country, Mrs. Jordan, came on the heels of the classic Siddons. These authenticated facts cannot be denied by the most bigoted biographer, that Sheridan was the chief instrument in bringing Mrs. Siddons to London after the slight which her great talent had received from Garrick is well known; and no sooner was her position established, than the brother, " the noblest Roman of them all" John Kemble was added to the establishment; and thus at the same time Sheridan had under his watchful eye three of the greatest performers of that age Mrs. Siddons, Mrs. Jordan, and John Kemble. 8 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. When cares, troubles, and disappointments, shook the mind and frame of the noble patriot and dramatist, and he retired from management, the crowning act of his sway over old Druiy was his pilotage of the greatest tragedian that ever trod the boards of a London theatre Edmund Kean. He saw at a glance the vigorous and unap- proachable assumptions of Kean, and at once pur- sued that course which gave every facility to the full display of those original talents seldom the rule with acting managers, and so widely opposite to the treatment which Mossup, Macklin, Mrs. Sid- dons, and the father of Richard Brinsley Sheridan, received from the English Roscius. According to Watkins's ' Life of Sheridan,' the palmy days of the drama were in the time of Gar- rick; and the statesman, orator, and dramatist, ab- solutely did nothing during his career as caterer for the public. The records of the drama fully confute such assertions. It is a notorious fact that the salaries in Gar- rick's day were on the most limited scale; so much so, that Reddish, celebrated as the second to the English Roscius, had only 51. a week, and there were some performers on a stipend as low as 17.; while in Sheridan's time, 4Z., 8/., 12., 18?., and up to 40Z., were the liberal terms given by the spirited manager. HOW COMPANIES ARE FORMED. 9 Let us take a glance at Covent Garden during the reign of the two Harrises. The drama in that great rival establishment was acknowledged as the first in Europe in every department; but the moment these men retired, and the rule fell into the hands of those that acted, then the drama began to sink, and finally disap- peared altogether; while this mighty fabric, which had been reared with such care for so many years, was deposed by a foreign opera. These historical facts prove that a man in no way connected with the stage or the profession is the most eligible to manage a national theatre of the first order. In the forming of a new company in London, favouritism and family cliques have a deal to do in the affair; but were a council of men, strangers to actors in general, to decide the question, talent would have a much better chance of notice than it has in the present da}', when mere novices, by recommendation only, take pre- cedence of experience and ability. As public companies are established to erect monster hotels and opera-houses, perhaps in time a company may be formed to elevate a theatre per- fect in all its details, and capable of vying with the national theatre of France; where the dramas of the noblest writer of them all may be represented with all the adornments which the genius of Wil- 10 KECOLLECTIOXS OF AX ACTOR. Ham Shakespeare demands, and the leading people of the world expect. In presenting the following work to the public, it is done with a hope that it may be found benefi- cial to the drama, and create an interest in the rising generation for days gone by, when London could boast of a staff of actors that might bid defi- ance to any other city in the way of competition. Many imagine that the legitimate drama is sunk for ever. I do not hold such an opinion. The his- trionic art has still powerful and able advocates, and one, not the least, has just been taken from us, the Duke of Newcastle. This distinguished friend of the drama has declared publicly "that it may be created into a gigantic instrument of educa- tion." The Eight Hon. W. E. Gladstone, the Chan- cellor of the Exchequer, has gone so far as to say " that Religion herself has not always disdained to find in it a direct handmaid for the attainment of her own purposes." Those two great men may be looked upon as the organ of the leading class of society; and prove that, if proper measures were pursued, the days of Kemble and Siddons may be revived again in the metropolis of the Empire. And those measures are the establishment of a theatre in London for the sole works of our sterling writers, HOW TO TRAIN AN ACTOR. 11 and where the taste of the refined and enlightened may not be diverted from the classic dramatists which England has produced, and which have assisted in the civilisation of this powerful country. Is the same stimulus in existence now which half a century back roused our youth to abandon the University, the Church, and the Army for the Stage? Certainly not. At that period London could boast of two great dramatic theatres that expended in salaries alone two thousand pounds weekly. To reach such a proud position, the aspirant fled to the provinces. Here, in the barn or in the lowly theatre, he underwent vicissitudes and trials that afterwards, when fortune smiled, the very re- cital of served to amuse the exalted and learned guests at the social board. At the beginning of the present century the Dublin Theatre contributed its quota of talent to the London boards. Dublin at this time, accord- ing to the 'New Monthly/ was the most joyous city in the Empire; trade was good, provisions cheap, and the country was favoured by a local Parlia- ment and a resident gentry. The latter advantage was owing to the " Ogre," which blocked up the Seine, Rhine, and the Danube. The Theatre Royal, Crow Street, was at that time under the management of Frederick Edwin 12 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. Jones, a gentleman by birth and education, two very great points in favour of actors and the public. For- tunately for the true interest of the drama, the manager did not act himself; and consequently merit had its free scope, without that thwarting which is generally the case when the manager is himself an actor. Montague Talbot was the light comedian of Dublin. His line of characters were the elegant and refined gentleman of the old school, such as Ranger in 'The Suspicious Husband,' Doricourt in ' The Belle's Stratagem,' Mirabel in ' The Incon- stant,' Rolando in * The Honeymoon,' Lord Duke in 'High Life below Stairs,' Lord Ogleby in 'The Clandestine Marriage,' Charles Surface, and Mon- sieur Morbleu. Talbot was a distinct actor from Lewis, who excelled in another range, such as Rover, Goldfinch, Vapid, Tom Shuffleton, and Mercutio. When a distinguished writer leaves behind his opinion of an actor's abilities, that ought to be received as the strongest proof of talent. Crofton Croker, in his splendid work the Familiar Epistles, published in Dublin in 1805, speaks of Talbot in the following lines: " First Talbot comes the first indeed But fated never to succeed In the discerning eyes of those Who form their taste on Kemble's nose, LINES OX MONTAGUE TALBOT. 13 And deem that genius a dead loss is Without dark eyebrows and long proboscis. Talbot certainly must despair To rival Kemble's sombrous stare, Or reach that quintessence of charms With which black Roscius folds his arms. A trifling air and stripling form, 111 fitted to the tragic storm ; A baby face, that sometimes shows Alike in transports as in woes, Will ne'er permit him to resemble Or soar the tragic flights of Kemble ; Yet in some scenes, together placed, With greater feeling equal taste From a judicious audience draws As imicli and as deserved applause. But whatsoe'er his tragic claim, He reigns o'er comedy supreme By art and nature chastely fit To play the gentleman or wit ; Not Harris's nor Colman's boards, Nor all that Drury Lane affords, Can paint the rakish Charles so well, Or give so much life to Mirabel, Or show for light and airy sport So exquisite a Doricourt." With such rare qualities, Talbot could not get a position in London. Both of the great houses were barred against him; and finding metropolitan re- nown was out of his reach, he determined to re- main in a land that appreciated his abilities ; and in 1809 the Belfast Theatre came under his sway. 14 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. where for a number of years he ruled the destinies of the drama with credit and honour. He was engaged by Henry Harris in 1821 for the Hawkins's Theatre, Dublin, and made his debut in MoncriefPs excellent farce of ' Monsieur Tonson.' Talbot's French barber made such a hit that the farce ran for sixty nights. Such a circum- stance was unprecedented in the annals of the drama. After the termination of the season, pro- posals were made to him to visit London. But he declined them all, and remained among a people who venerated him till the period of his death. Talbot was no favourite among London actors; this was partly the result of envy for one who had too much talent for their appreciation. Charles Kemble in 1812 came to Dublin on a starring tour with Mrs. 0. Kemble, and made his debut in Talbot's great part, Mirabel. He did not repeat it, or attempt any other in that line. The elder Mathews, hearing of Talbot's fame in the French barber, Monsieur Morbleu, entered the lists against him, and most egregiously failed, and left the city in dudgeon after the first night's performance. Some years ago, a ridiculous and impossible story went the round of the London journals re- specting the vagaries introduced by Talbot in the MEMORY OF RICHARD JONES. 15 Ghost of Hamlet's father. He was called ' Paddy Talbot' by those writers that always know every thing and every body. Talbot ever prided him- self on his nationality and as being a branch of the English family of that celebrated name, so re- nowned in the history of Shakespeare's idol, Harry of Monmouth. Richard Jones, better known to a metropolitan public than his contemporary Talbot, began his career in Dublin as a mere stripling, fresh from his native Birmingham, where his honoured parent dealt in, not buttons, but deals; in fact he was, like Lubin Log's father, a timber-merchant. Jones soon made his way into the good graces of the Dublin people by his social manners in pri- vate, and his public efforts on the stage. Jones was not so fastidious as his brother comedian Tal- bot in respect to the rank of his society. As long as the party had the appearance and manners of respectability, he was satisfied; in fact, Jones hud a benefit in view, and he always had a " bumper," while Montague Talbot attended the Heralds'-office to see if Mr. So-and-so was a fit and proper com- panion to associate with, that the high blood in his veins might not be disgraced. Although Jones was considered only in a se- condary degree to Talbot in Dublin, yet he found his way to Covent Garden, and maintained the 16 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. highest position over every other actor in Lewis's line of characters. The following lines by Crof ton Croker are from the Familiar Epistles : " Who is this ? all boots and breeches, Cravat and cape, and spurs and switches, Grins and grimaces, shrugs and capers, With affectation, spleen, and vapours ? Oh, Mr. Richard Jones, your humble Prithee give o'er to mouth and mumble ; Stand still, speak plain, and let ug hear What was intended for the ear. In faith, without the timely aid Of bills, no part you ever played Bob Handy, Shuffleton, or Rover, Sharper, stroller, lounger, lover Could, amid your madcap pother, Ever distinguish from each other. 'Tis true that Lewis jumps and prates,* And mumbles and extravagates ; And it equally as true is That, Mr. Jones, you are not Lewis. If, Jones, to your ear my caustic lays May seem too niggard of their praise, Perhaps 'tis true, and shall I own They seem not so to you alone ? And fear'd I not to turn a brain Already too volatile and vain, * The old comedians, such as Lewis, Manders, Elliston, and Jack Johnston, talked a great deal to themselves on that stage, and uttered inexpressible things that the author never dreamt of ; thus casting to the winds Shakespeare's advice to the players. LOVE A LA MODE. 17 And were I not anxious to express Youthful ambition's wild excess, I'd say, ( It equally as true is That, Mr. Jones, you may be Lewis.' " Jones's father, the timber-merchant in Bir- mingham, was celebrated in his native town as an excellent amateur actor ; his son was a chip of the old block, and even among his brethren of the sock and buskin was not considered a stick. About 1808 Lewis retired from the London stage, and this never-equalled comedian recom- mended to the management of Oovent Garden Kiciiard Jones. Not but there was another light comedian of equal talent to Jones; this was Melvin, an actor of extraordinary ability, not only in the Gossamers and Mercutios, but in the weather- beaten tars. In 1809 Richard Jones made his ddbut at Co- vent Garden in Macklin's comedy of ' Love a la Mode.' George Cooke was Sir Archy MacSar- casm; Sir Callaghan O'Brallaghan, Jack John- stone ; Beau Mordecai, Simmons ; Squire Groom, R. Jones ; and Charlotte, Mrs. St. Leger. 'Love a la Mode' is called a farce; but ac- cording to the material which Macklin has thrown into it, I consider it a comedy, as we have no farce in the English language possessing such characters. Lewis attended behind the scenes to witness his proteges first attempt; and when the cue was given 2 18 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. for his entrance on the stage, Jones became trans- fixed with fear, and instead of giving the "view halloo/' was struck dumb and became immovable. Lewis, perceiving the dilemma of the new actor, roared " Yoicks, yoicks !" The audience hearing those well-known sounds, exclaimed, "A second Lewis!" then, slapping Jones on the back, he told him "to go in and win." Jones taking courage, dashed on the stage, amidst the most deafening plau- dits ; and as he paced about in his jockey dress thus showing off his slim, tall, and well-formed person minutes absolutely elapsed ere he could utter a word for the applause. His success was most complete, and Jones remained in London as the true successor of Lewis as long as the legitimate drama had a home ; then he retired, and devoted his latter years to pulpit eloquence, or giving in- struction to those elevated personages intended as dignitaries of the Church. Charles Mayne Young about the same time was engaged for the same line of business in London. Certainly there was a great difference in the two men in regard to declamatory ability. Those who can recollect Young's Hamlet must admit that it has never been excelled since his day, and I ques- tion if it has ever been equalled. However, if Jones was celebrated for his flippancy and rattling rollicking mode of utterance, as an elocution mas- AUTHOR'S FIRST APPEARANCE. 19 ter he has fitted for their position some of the first men in the Church. An engraving of Jones in F. Potter's < Belle's Stratagem,' may be seen at Lacy's, Theatrical Publisher, Strand. Having accompanied the accomplished come- dian to the goal of his ambition the beau-ideal of a theatre-royal I shall now take leave of Richard Jones, and retrace my steps to that city celebrated for its wit and orators, and say something respect- ing myself. It may appear trifling to others, but it was highly important to the author of this work, the matter I am going to touch upon, as it deter- mined my destiny through life ; it was my drfmt at the Crow Street Theatre, 1807, at the age of thirteen, in Monk Lewis's grand romantic drama of 'Rugantino, or the Bravo of Venice.' Cer- tainly the character altogether was of the most trivial quality; it was one of the sprites in the mask, and was of a pantomimic nature. How- ever, it had its charms, as it gave the entree of the theatre. The mysteries of my business were now aban- doned for the mysteries of the stage; and, like many others, I selected that calling which was more agreeable than hard work at the bench. Piano-making was not my forte, as I was much happier in suiting the action to the word than arranging the action to the instrument so cele- 20 BECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. brated for its construction by my honoured parent. 'Rugantino' made a decided hit in Dublin, and proved a great attraction. This drama was not only gorgeous in its decorations, but, unlike several of its class, was well written. The original work from which it was taken, ' Aballino,' has been published in a volume with the Right Honourable Horace Walpole's < Castle of Otranto.' Those that read and are not swayed by title may, at a small cost, find out the great difference between the abused Lewis's writing and that of the Earl of Orford. The original Rugantino and Rosabella Henry Johnston and wife, from Covent Garden were engaged in Dublin; and such was the impression they made, that crowds followed them as they walked through Dame Street and other portions of the city. The following sketch of this splendid and ori- ginal actor may be interesting to the reader : Henry Johnston was born in Edinburgh, and had for his godfather the celebrated Lord Erskine, who took charge of his education; after whom he was called Henry Erskine Johnston. At this period the tragedy of ' Douglas ' was very popular; and as Johnston had decided on making the stage his profession, he selected Young Norval as his HENRY JOHNSTON. 21 maiden attempt in his native city. His youthful appearance, being scarcely eighteen, graceful form, and handsome expressive countenance, won for him the universal approbation of his countrymen. Previous to this the noble shepherd was dressed in the trews and Scotch jacket; but when Johnston appeared in full Highland costume, in kilt, breast- plate, shield, claymore, and bonnet, the whole house rose, and such a reception was never witnessed within the walls of a provincial theatre before. The reverend author, Mr. Home,* was present; and at the conclusion of the tragedy publicly pronounced Johnston the beau-ideal of his conception. There can be no doubt of this, as all who have attempted this beautifully-drawn character have egregiously failed in producing the effects which Johnston brought forth. Modern Athens was not permitted long to retain this splendid actor. Johnston was engaged at Covent Garden, and made his first appearance in London in Young Norval, 1794, and at once became the greatest favourite in the theatre. Melodrama was unknown at this period. Hoi- croft was so struck by the elegant and original * The Rev. Mr. Home was dismissed from the Scotch Church for writing the best tragedy since the days of Otway. So disgusted was George III. with this treatment, that he settled 300?, a-year on the highly-gifted author. 22 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. style of Johnston's acting, that he arranged and planned the first melodrama ever performed in Lon- don for him ' The Tale of Mystery ;' the part of Count Romaldi, Johnston made entirely his own. A pantomime was produced at Covent Garden founded on the navigator La Perouse; in which Johnston sustained the hero with great eclat. In 1803 the Kemble family left Drury Lane, and became part managers with Harris of Covent Garden. The tragedy of ' Douglas ' was performed with the following cast : Glenalvon, George Cooke ; Lord Randolph, Murray; Young Norval, H. Johnston; Old Norval, John Kemble; and Lady Randolph; Mrs. Siddons. Even in the midst of such over- powering talent, Johnston stood out as bold as any of the performers named. Never were the cha- racters so ably filled before. Mrs. Crawford threw all actresses into the shade when she performed in this beautiful tragedy. It is a notorious fact that acting managers, or those that sway the destinies of theatres, become alarmed when any performer makes too great an impression; and although they may shrink from giving notice of dismissal, yet they resort to other means not the most praiseworthy, such as allot- ting to the popular actor roles likely to degrade him not only in public estimation, but in his own. ROYAL HIBERNIAN THEATRE. 23 This was the case with Henry Johnston at Covent Garden in 1806. Finding his acknowledged talent slighted by the management, he, like Handel, sought the Irish shores, and in its capital was hailed with enthusiasm. Here, in a city surrounded by mountains, waterfalls, and a bay second only to Naples, he passed the happiest years of his life. Here he might have remained all his days in his suburban villa of Rathmines, if a fatal ambition had not seized him, which urged him to mount one step higher and reach the highest pinnacle of the histrionic power, viz. the sway of the metropoli- tan theatre of Ireland. Here Johnston made a false calculation, in opposing a man that had in his grasp the sinews of war money. Besides this great desideratum, the manager of the Theatre Royal, Crow Street, held the patent, and of course restricted all others from the performance of the legitimate drama. This was a prodigious bar against all success in a city where a pure taste for Shakespeare still exists, in despite of all the glare and show and noise of melodrama. Notwithstand- ing, Johnston considered his name and ability sufficient to enter the lists against a man of long standing and of the highest respectability. The Amphitheatre in Peter Street was quickly transformed into a handsome minor theatre, and a host of melodramatic actors, pantominiists, dan- 24 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. cers, horse-riders, clowns, harlequins, and panta- loons were engaged; and the circus was opened in 1810, under the name of the Royal Hibernian Theatre. A grand ballet was produced, in which Mon- sieur and Madame Des Hayes, from the Opera, Paris, appeared, and D'Egville's pupils; Noble, Miss Smith (afterwards Mrs. Oscar Byrne), and Miss Luppino. After this grand affair, Theodore Hook's melodrama of ' Tekelf was performed. H. Johnston was the hero; Maurice, T. P. Cooke; Bras de Fer, John Byrne; Isidore (the simple- ton), James Wallack ; Conrad (the miller), Curtis ; Christine, Mrs. Cresswell; and Alexina, Mrs. Eachus. With the exception of Johnston himself, all the performers absolutely failed to realise the characters with that vividness which was portrayed at the Crow Street Theatre by N. Jones, Johnson, Henry Weston, E. Williams, Mrs. Stewart, and Miss Walstein. However, all met with an enthusiastic recep- tion; and a naval song the first night, < Bound prentice to a waterman/ by W. Miller, produced quite a furore. This beau-ideal of a British tar, known at the Surrey as Bill Miller, was exactly the thing itself. There was nothing sentimental about him ; he appeared on the stage just such a tar as would fight his way in battle through a BELZONI THE GIANT. 25 host of enemies. He was, in fact, every inch a sailor. In those days T. P. Cooke was engaged for the Clown in the pantomime, and James Wallack for low comedy. To meet this opposition, Jones engaged the greatest vocalist of the age, Braham. This was Braham's first appearance in Ireland; and a more powerful attraction could not have been selected, as Dublin was the most musical city in Great Britain. This is no exaggeration : a city must be termed musical that has encored the overtures to 'Guy Mannering' and ' Der Freischiitz,' and made Bra- ham, in 1817, sing ' Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled' three times nightly. Signor Belzoni paid a visit to Dublin in 1810 as the Patagonian Samson. I have witnessed his performance at the Royal Hibernian Theatre, Pe- ter Street. This extraordinary individual carried fourteen men, and went through other feats of strength. Belzoni was the first that introduced the Grecian Statues, and the * Ghost,' that trick of the magic-lantern which excited the public so much lately. Belzoni began to tire of the mountebank life he was engaged in, and determined to pursue one that would hand down his name to posterity as the greatest man that ever explored the buried wonders 26 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOK. of Egypt. He proceeded in 1817 to the land of the Pharaohs, and worked among the Arabs in the ruins of Thebes, where the excavated wonders of the great city of the ancient world will place Belzoni's name as the first of Egyptian travellers. Belzoni was by nature well fitted to explore a pyramid and work with the children of the Desert. He stood nearly eight feet in height, and his calibre was in proportion. He was a Roman by birth, and received a liberal education, particularly in the arts and sciences ; but the invasion of the States in 1796 by the French having destroyed his family and their possessions, he was compelled to enter on a course of life repugnant to his feel- ings. The rage for travel led him into Africa, where lie perished, in 1823, between Timbuctoo and Houssa. The Royal Hibernian Theatre turned out a failure. Johnston, by his license, was restricted to melodrama, pantomime, ballet, and horse-riding ; and in time the intellectual portion of the commu- nity grew tired of a theatre where the immortal bard was invisible ; consequently the finances be- came deranged, and when that is the case the company soon becomes careless and demoralised ; and in the end Johnston retired, in the shades of evening, from the city that idolised him, never to see it more. JOHNSTON'S FAILURE AS MANAGER. 27 By this false step he sacrificed popularity and all his hopes of future comfort. He returned to his native country, Scotland, and entered on the management of the Glasgow and Greenock the- atres ; but, alas, he was doomed here to misfortune and disappointment in fact, as a manager he was fated never to succeed. There is no accounting for the fact that a splen- did actor generally fails when he assumes mana- gerial sway. Such men do not attend to the trifling details of a theatre, and those very small matters are as necessary to be looked after as the great ones. The engraving of Johnston as young Norval, still extant, gives some idea of his expres- sive features. His voice was of a beautiful quality, and for youthful characters never surpassed; nor was he confined in his talent, for he had equal abilities for comedy, as shown in 'The Three Singles/ < Young Sadboy,' Walter in 'The Chil- dren in the Wood ;' Felix in ' The Hunter of the Alps ;' and Hover in ' Wild Oats ;' while at Covent Garden his serious pantomime characters were very popular, such as Don Juan, Henry in ' The Deserter,' and La Perouse. Yet, after all his triumphs in Lon- don and Dublin, in his aged days he became the manager of a few small theatres in Cumberland. They say there is only one step from the sub- lime to the ridiculous, and here it was exemplified. CHAPTEE H. Reminiscences of Dublin continued Jack Johnstone His suc- cessful career as a delineator of Irish Character Gives his daughter 20,OOOZ. on her marriage with James Wallack Robert William Elliston Holman and Elliston com- pared Conway Mrs. Jordan's debut in Dublin Death of an Actor on the Stage Williams First appearance of Thomas Phillipps the Vocalist Salaries fifty years ago Miss Smith (Mrs. Bartley) as Lady Macbeth Mrs. Stewart and Mrs. Liston The Misses Dykes Tom Cooke and the Orchestra of the Dublin Theatre Cooke's success as a Vocalist Amateur theatricals at Kilkenny, with Moore the Poet, and Sir Wm. Beecher, Miss O'Neill's husband, in the cast Remarkable marriages of Actresses How to cure a stage-struck youth Horsewhipping Lord Randolph. DUBLIN, in former days, was considered an El Dorado for the London stars, where they reaped a harvest that enabled them to add to the store they were laying by for the winter of life. Of all the popular men of London, Jack John- stone was more favoured and courted than any other, not only on account of his nationality, but in consequence of his unapproachable talent in either the Irish gentleman or the peasant. His rich and delicious singing, and his agreeable and sociable JACK JOHNSTONE INCLEDOX. 29 manners, gained the hearts of gentle and simple in his native city. There have been many excellent actors in the low Irishman, but there has been only one comedian that could delineate the refined Irish gentleman, and enter into the genuine unsophisticated humour of a son of the Emerald Isle with equal talent. There is not much difficulty in creating laugh- ter, like the clown in the ring, by uttering the usual number of jokes put into the mouth of the bogtrotter, or skipping about the stage as the Irish valet, displaying all the vagaries of a merry-an- drew; but the task of the Irish actor to realise the accomplished gentleman such as Sir Lucius O'Trigger or Major O'Flalicrty is not so facile, as ease, deportment, and address are all indispens- able in the embodiment of those two finished spe- cimens of Irish character. Jack Johnstone, then, may be named as the only actor that has ever appeared in any theatre capable of sustaining the high and low role of his native country with ability. Truly it may be said, Dennis Brulgruddery, Teague, and Paddy O'Rafferty died with him; and the melodies of < Savourneen Deelish,' sung so deliciously, have never produced such effect in the mouth of any other vocalist. Johnstone's figure was above the middle size, 30 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. and well-formed ; his face was handsome, and in- dicative of the sparkling humour inherent in him in fact, he was Kilkenny itself. This admirable actor was the son of a distin- guished retired officer in the county of Wicklow, and was educated for the army; but his vocal ability induced him to attempt a less arduous pro- fession, and he made his dtbut at the Crow Street Theatre in Captain Macheath with complete suc- cess. At the end of the season he appeared at Covent Garden, and maintained a high reputation as a singer till Incledon burst on the public, and he was obliged to turn his attention to a line of business rare at that period Irish character parts. Johnstone was the original Inkle in Colman's opera of ' Inkle and Yarico,' and Patrick in O'Keeffe's beautiful operatic farce of 'The Poor Soldier' a piece that may be called " a shower of melodies." This comedian resided in Covent Garden Market during his metropolitan career of forty-one years, and always said " he loved the locality, as the cabbages gave the morning air a sweet and wholesome odour." James Wallack was united to Johnstone's daughter, and on the wedding - day received 20,000/. So vast a sum created some astonish- ment as to how it could have been scraped toge- ELLISTON IN DUBLIN. 31 ther ; but when it is remembered that Johnstone was never known to give any thing away, the wonder ceases. Sometimes the Dublin people disputed the judgment of those of London. But when such actors appeared in the Irish metropolis as John Kemble, George Cooke, Lewis, Munden, Dowton, Fawcett, Bannister, and Emery, of course there was only one opinion ; but there was not one opinion on Elliston, when he paid a visit to Dublin and made his debut in Hamlet. Although Robert William Elliston acted Ham- let, Macbeth, and Richard, in London, yet his reputation was not gained by such characters. He had 0. Young, Kemble, and G. Cooke to contend against. It was his comedy that made him his Rover and Vapid took the town ; and when an actor obtains popularity, he considers he may do what he likes for his own amusement. But this is a dangerous experiment to try among strangers, particularly with a people that possessed such a resident actor as George Holman a man that, in 1787, was the Romeo, Hamlet, Alexander, and Jaffier of the Covent Garden. On the evening of Elliston's first appearance in Dublin, an elegant and brilliant audience was assembled ; but it was soon discovered that he was every way inferior to Holman ; and the curtain 32 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR, dropped amidst disappointment and murmurs, not loud but deep. However, lost laurels were pulled up on his second appearance, in Rover. After Lewis, Elliston was declared free from all competition in this splendidly-drawn character. His third appearance was in a piece called ' The Three Singles,' in which he represented three parts a fop, a staid sober gentleman, and a sim- pleton. There was a divided opinion among the editors in Dublin in regard to Elliston and Melvin in the same characters. Melvin was the original in the Irish capital, and numbers considered he sur- passed Elliston in two of the roles the fop and simpleton. Elliston was ill adapted for tragedy. Although possessing a highly intelligent face, his limbs were not Apollo-shaped ; nor could he boast the height and majesty of Holman. This accomplished actor was quite original, and could bid defiance to either Cooke or Kemble in a certain number of characters. His voice was of a superior quality, of great compass, and capable of any intonation; his face noble, and his height about five feet eleven. All the actors of that day, both in the street and on the stage, Holman surpassed in majestic bearing and deportment. FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. 33 The London critics acknowledged "his Lord Townly, in * The Provoked Husband/ the perfec- tion of the nobleman of the days of Chesterfield." He was quite unlike an actor in the dignified lord, and was the thing itself. Then his Felix, in * The Wonder/ Benedict, Petruchio,* Avanza, Glenal- von, Alexander, and De Valmont, were never sur- passed by any since his decease. Count de Valmont was the last part which Holman represented in Dublin : this was in 1810. William Diamond's interesting and well-writ- ten drama, 'The Foundling of the Forest/ had just been performed in London, and met with universal applause. The same success attended its production in Dublin. The cast of characters was as follows : De Valmont . * Holmau. Horian, . , , Percy Farren. Longueville , , Younger. Bert-rand . . . Nicholas Jones. IS Eclair . . . E. Williams. Caspar d . , . Win. Farreii. Sang wins . , . Carroll. Lonvir . . . King. * It is extraordinary that this Italian name ' Petruchio' is always pronounced wrong in England. The ch in Italian is hard, in French soft. The proper way to pronounce it is Pe-tru-lie-o. I had to wend my way as far as Naples to find this out. 3 34 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. Eugenie . , , Miss Smith (afterwards Mrs. Bartley). RosabelU . , . Mrs. Steward. Monica , , . Mrs. Williams. The characters in this sterling drama were, as a whole, as well sustained in Dublin as they were at the Haymarket. Holman appeared as the Count six nights, and then took his departure for America, where he ended his days. Many De Valmonts I have witnessed in fifty- four years, but have never seen the equal of this accomplished English actor. Holman did not leave the Irish capital in good odour : he was guilty of something that looked disgracious or disgraceful in the city's eye; and as the Irish are rather fastidious in respect to the conduct of those who ' hold prominent positions among them, they give utterance to their feelings, even in a public assembly, that is not pleasant to those that make a breach in their manners. Yet in their social habits they hold out the hand to the stranger, no matter what land may claim him, if* he possess talent. It does not signify whether long or short of stature, fat or lean, they cheer and fan his rising talent, and are loth to part with the favourite that they have reared and encouraged. To replace such an actor as Holman was no HOLMAN AND COXWAY. 35 easy matter. Neither Ireland or Scotland had his equal; and only one provincial town in England could send forth a substitute, and that was Bir- mingham. The tragedian, that arrived in Dublin to fill so important a position, was the ill-fated Conway. The favourite who leaves a theatre devolves on his successor an onerous task, even if possessed of equal talent. It is hard to combat prejudices long cherished, and the new actor is generally looked at as an intruder, and not wanted. Conway made his debut in Hamlet, and at once established himself a favourite. His appear- ance certainly created surprise, and well it might, for he was nearly six feet three the tallest man on the stage ; but then the public soon discovered that he did not copy any of the great men in London, and stood on his own merit, without bor- rowing from Kemble. Dean Swift has said, " There is little difference between tweedle-dum and tweedle-dee." If such was the Dean's opinion in a musical sense, so is it in a dramatic. The fate of an actor very often depends on the turn of a feather in regard to elevation : there is but one step from the sublime to the ridiculous, and vice versa. Yet some of our novel-writers Washington Irving, that brilliant literary character has held 36 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. the poor country actor up to scorn ; and another novelist Marryatt speaks of him as a " strolling vagabond." The term vagabond only means stroll- ing or wandering, and is no ways derogatory. So " strolling player" cannot be termed absolutely a stigma on the profession. But when an eminent writer Boaden in his Life of Mrs. Jordan, calls a body of actors " raff/' then indeed it sounds any thing but complimentary or respectful. Boaden speaks of Mrs. Jordan's visit to Dublin in 1809, and goes on to say: "Her efforts were marred by the raff which composed the company, that were more au fait in potting than in the busi- ness of the stage." Having been a juvenile actor at the period, I am capable of stating some particulars of what really did occur in the Irish capital, while Mr. Boaden was in London, and could know very little about it. The comedy of ' The Inconstant' was the piece selected for the great actress's ctebut, in which she represented Bizarras; Mirabel was al- lotted to a young actor, Dwyer, who had never played the part. In consequence of short notice, and coming after such a comedian as Talbot, his powers failed him when before the public, and an expose occurred that rather interfered with the action of the comedy. That portion of the piece where Mirabel reads a page of Virgil in the origi- MRS. EDWIN AND MRS. JORDAN. 37 nal gained the new actor well-merited applause ; but the scenes with Mrs. Jordan were any thing but smooth and easy. The papers next day attacked Dwyer. This brought some employment to the gentlemen of the long robe, and he obtained 300/. damages. There was a divided opinion in respect to Mrs. Jordan and Mrs. Edwin in the city. The latter actress had just left; and as she was directly in Mrs. Jordan's style, young too and beautiful, while the great woman was in the sear and yellow leaf, of course the more juvenile portion of the community were for Mrs. Edwin. Certainly in such parts as Violante, Widow Cheerly, Lady Teazle, Lady Townly, Juliana, Lydia Languish, Mrs. Edwin was second only to Mrs. Jordan ; and the impression her acting made on the hearts of the Irish was not easily forgotten. Even such women as Mrs. Bartley and Miss O'Neill did not eclipse her. A portion of the "raff" Boaden's term for the Dublin actors I have already touched upon: Talbot, Kichard Jones, Henry Johnston, and Holman. Trinity College contributed three of her stu- dents in order to fill the ranks of the Crow Street Theatre : Simpson, Putnam, and Charles Connor. Simpson crossed the Atlantic in 1810, and be- came a popular actor in New York, and manager 38 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. of the Park Theatre. Putnam retired from the stage on his appointment as Elocution Master in the College of Aberdeen ; and Charles Connor filled the first role of Irishmen at Covent Garden in 182 6, when Tyrone Power was in a secondary position. The three comedians of the theatre Fullam, E.Williams and Johnson were not every-day kind of men. Some idea may be formed of them in 1810; for when William Farren became a member of the Crow Street Theatre, the}' were not eclipsed, and stood out in just as bold relief as before the arrival of this accomplished actor. Fullam was the comic old man of the theatre nature had de- signed him in figure and face for such a role; for even when a young man he was considered an old one. There are many men in life whose faces re- semble those on the knocker of doors. Such a face Fullam had : it required no making up nature had arranged that ; while his figure was neat and w r ell formed for the gentleman' of the old school. Fullam was a member of a respectable Irish family, and had received a medical education ; but the charms of the stage induced him, like others, to throw physic to the dogs, and enter on a calling for which he was so admirably fitted. It is a prodigious advantage to the comedian SUDDEN DEATH OF FULLAM. 39 to have received a liberal education, and to be used to good society in early life. It is easy to descend to the canaille, but very difficult to assume with ease the manners and deportment of the gentle- man. The early training of Listen, Mathews, and William Farren gave a marked superiority to those comedians over their compeers. Fullam realised the style of the celebrated Quick in his acting, and excelled in Justice Wood- cock, Silky, Varland, Itim, Old Harry, Lockit, Gregory Gubbins, Polonius, Sir Antony Absolute ; and in the singing old man in the operas such as Don Scipio, in 'The Castle of Andalusia ;' Don Jerome, in ' The Duenna ;' Baron of Oakland, in 'The Haunted Tower;' and Sir John Bull, in ' Fontainebleau :' indeed he surpassed all the ac- tors on the stage; and this in consequence of possessing vocal power and understanding music. This gifted and respected actor lived to a great age, and at last died in harness at eighty. In 1826, while performing Don Christophel in Bishop's opera of < Brother and Sister,' he received a tremendous encore for the song of ' Nong tong pau;' and just as he had concluded it a second time, with all the vigour and richness of his best days, on reaching the wing he fell, never to rise again in life. I do not hold with men continuing on the stage 40 RECOLLECTIONS OP AN ACTOR. in the downhill of life, if they have the means of subsisting; and Fullam was quite independent. After a long life of toil and labour in his arduous vocation, he ought to have retired, and prepared for that bourne from whence there is no return. Never was actor more honoured in death than Fullam; 20,000 followed his remains. Ireland's Duke, his Grace of Leinster, was one of the pall- bearers. The second old man of the Dublin Theatre, Edward Williams, was an Englishman of varied talent. He was admired for his style of rendering the hearty and sentimental old men, and was the original in the Irish capital in Caleb Quotem, Mingle, the King in 'Bombastes,' Job Thorn- bury, Sir Mark Chase, and Lord Grizzle. No matter whether in the fine old English gentleman, the eccentric Caleb Quotem, the heart- broken brazier Job, or the guilty Hubert; even by the side of such a king as the classic Kemble, this respectable son of the mimic art, displayed genius and versatile talent not always found in the same individual. Williams, like Fullam, possessed vocal power; and those two esteemed actors worked and laboured in the same vineyard, in good fellowship, for the best portion of their career, and in the end, directed that WILLIAMS,. FOOTED AND CONNOR. 41 their mortal remains should rest among the people who loved them so well. Williams was noticed by Crof ton Croker in the ' Familiar Epistles/ in respect to his peculiar action in tragedy ; first laying his hand on his heart, then raising it to heaven, and afterwards pointing to his toe. It was something like Foote, called "Fat Foote," in his tragedy, who always delivered his soliloquies with his fore-finger opposite to his nose, and kept looking at it till the end of the discourse. Foote was a member of the Dublin Theatre some time, and in cold declamatory characters, such as the Ghost in Hamlet, was excellent; but the moment he became excited, he set the audience in a roar. This occurred so often, that Foote began to lose all faith in his tragic powers, and accord- ingly he applied to the manager of Drury Lane for an engagement as the comic old man. He ob- tained this position ; and both at Drury Lane and the Haymarket, in 1824, Foote figured successfully in comedy. Charles Connor, already mentioned, was the juvenile tragedian in Dublin. At Covent Garden it was discovered he had mistaken his fort, so he became the dashing rollicking Irish comedian; hence the difficulty of defining what is really comic or vice versa. 42 HECOLLECTIOXS OF AN ACTOE. Johnson, the third comedian of Dublin, was called " Yorkshire Johnson," although he was a Londoner, and had never set foot in the great northern county. However, as the Irish are not very critical in regard to dialect, so there is talent, Johnson passed very well for a Yorkshire actor. The death of the celebrated Jemmy Stewart, the Billy O'Rourke, gave an opening to Johnson; and he answered public expectation in whatever lie undertook. He had a neat dapper figure, not too short; while a pleasing, expressive face was much in his favour. The great range of characters which he assumed obliged him at times to personate an ugly role, and at other times a handsome youth. It is certainly possible to render a face forbidding, but to admire where nature has not been bounti- ful is quite out of the question. The fine sterling operas with pure English melodies were then the rage; operas in which the compositions of Arne, Shield, Dibdin, and Storace, were warbled. It was in these operas that John- son stood forward in bold relief. His characters Were Leopold, in 'The Siege of Belgrade;' William, in 'The Haunted Tower;' Isaac Mendoza; Hodge, in 'Love in a Village;' Jemmy Jumps, in 'The Farmer;' Pedrillo, in 'The Castle of Andalusia;' Lingo, in 'The Agreeable Surprise;' Mungo, in 'The Padlock;' and Little John, in 'Robin Hood.' WESTOX, THE DUBLIN FAVOURITE. 43 Then in comedy, his Toney Lumpkin, Squire Richard, in 'The Provoked Husband;' Acres, Clod in ' The Young Quaker;' and Zekiel Homespun, in ' The Heir-at-Law,' were of such excellence that for many years I have not seen his equal; even Liston's attempt at Oliver Goldsmith's Country Squire was much beneath Johnson's. In 1816, when I first visited a London theatre, I was much surprised to find at Covent Garden Shacabac, in 'Blue Beard,' a failure, in comparison to the Dublin comedian's portraiture ; and at Old Drury Little Knight's Little John could not be named in the same day with Little Johnson's. Yet this popular actor had many trials to strug- gle with, many rivals to contend against, namely, Jemmy Stewart, Edwin, and II. Weston. This latter comedian, had he remained in the Irish capital in Yorkshire characters, would have eclipsed Johnson altogether. Western's Tyke came the nearest to the great original Emery of any man on the stage. Not that Johnson was deficient in quiet force, but he was ill-adapted for ruffianly cha- racters ; yet his Giles, in 4 The Miller's Maid,' was a powerful piece of acting. A London actor was engaged for a number of nights, and he was announced to open in Giles. When the curtain drew up, and the star made his appearance, a general demand was made for John- 44 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOK. son. The manager came forward and told the audi- ence that Mr. Johnson was not advertised for the character. " No matter/' says a gentleman in the gallery, a it is our will and pleasure that Johnson shall play the part." The manager and the London actor had to retire. Johnson dressed, and amidst thunders of applause rushed on the stage, and played the part with his usual energy. There was another character which Johnson acted, and required great force Walter, in 'The Children in the Wood.' It has never been my good fortune to witness the original Jack Ban- nister in this part; but I have seen Henry John- son and Elliston in it, and both of those splendid actors were powerful and original; but in my opinion Johnson was equal to either of them in energy, and was Qertainly more natural. I cannot quote an author like Crofton Croker in regard to Johnson's talent. I can only state the opinion of a splendid comedian, a dear friend, now no more, David Rees, the actor who made his d^but at the Haymarket in 1840 in Paul Pry, and took the audience by surprise. Rees was several seasons the Farren of the Dublin Theatre. It is very seldom that one comedian speaks well of an- other. During a conversation in 1831 in Dublin, Eees gave me his opinion respecting Johnson's act- ing, and declared u he was the finest that he ever BEES' OPINION or JOHNSON. 45 beheld out of London." " As a test of Johnson's talent/' he observed, " a few nights ago, the Lord- Lieutenant commanded the comedy of 'The Rivals.' I was Sir Antony; Sir Lucius, Tyrone Power; and Acres, Keeley. Of course, there was a brilliant and crowded house, and the comedy went off tre- mendously." Although Johnson sustained a secon- dary part, being to oblige, yet he stood as forward as those who had the best of the characters. With- out a question, he was as clever as any of them, although he had never been in a London theatre. It is no rule, because a man is unknown to the metropolis, that he cannot have first-rate talent. Why, it was by the merest chance that Edmund Kean was dragged out of obscurity in the rural shades; and many a brilliant flower has been doomed to wither in a sterile soil, that if transplanted to a more fertile spot would have bloomed. Johnson was contented with his lot, and had seen a great deal during his long sojourn of nearly forty years in the Irish metropolis. He had seen actors enticed away to London with tempting baits, who afterwards would have been delighted to return to their old quarters in a city abounding in beauty and hospitality. How often have these men, after a fair trial in their own land, dropped down to decay and ruin, who if blessed with foresight might have remained, like Fullam, Williams, and Johnson, with 46 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. ease and comfort among a people who never de- sert their favourites in the winter of life. The ill-fated Conway was one that permitted himself to be decoyed into the lion's den in Co vent Garden, where he was annihilated and crushed; but more of him anon. There was located in the Crow Street Theatre a vocalist, acknowledged to be the only singer that could walk the stage like a gentleman. This was Thomas Phillipps. Phillipps made his debut in Dublin about 1800, and soon convinced the public that he could act as well as sing. Colman's comic opera, ' Love laughs at Locksmiths/ was produced with great eclat Phillipps sustaining Elliston's part, Captain Bel- dare; Risk, Jemmy Stewart; the two old men, Vigil and Totterton, Williams and Fullam; and Solomon Lob, Johnson. Any character in the military style Phillipps looked to the life; in fact, he was often taken for an officer as he rode a high horse through the town with his military spurs and braided frock-coat. Phillipps left Dublin in 1809, and made his debut at the Lyceum Theatre, Lon- don, with complete success. In 1810, Lewis's romantic operatic drama, f One o'Clock, or the Knight and the Wood Demon,' was produced with great splendour, the music by M. P. King. The Knight was performed by Phillipps. T. PHILLIPPS TO TPIE MUSICIAN. 47 His acting and singing in this part paved his way to Drury Lane; but finding a more extended range lay before him in the States, he crossed the Atlan- tic, and created such a furore in New York, that the engagements that poured in could not be ac- cepted. After his career in the New World, he returned to the Old, and began a course of lectures on singing at the Hanover-square Rooms which at- tracted the elite of society. These lectures were both pleasing and instruc- tive, for they were illustrated by female vocalists of scientific talent. But in the midst of this accom- plished singer's new avocation he fell a victim to the new but ill-arranged mode of conveyance, the railway, and was crushed to death near London. Phillipps was noted for his pure taste and sci- ence, and if his voice had been of superior quality in strength, lie would have stood the equal of Bra- ham. In his juvenile days he was a second Brum- mell; but as years increased on him, he wisely laid by his superfluous cash, instead of wasting it, like that unfortunate Beau, on a parcel of tailors. I have drawn a sketch of the principal actors in the Dublin Theatre at the period of Mrs. Jordan's visit, merely to prove the sort of characters which constituted the pith and marrow of the establish- ment ; and if by any chance a performer degraded himself by an act of drunkenness, a discharge fol- 48 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. lowed. Frederick Jones was very particular in the reputation of his company that they should sustain the rank of gentlemen; and in order to carry out this idea, he afforded them better salaries than generally fell to the share of actors in the pro- vinces in England. The salaries were 3/., 4Z., 51., and 10?. a-week; and the benefit charges were only fifty guineas for a theatre that held 540Z. : 4?. were the maximum in Liverpool. The female portion of the staff of the theatre had at its head an actress second only to Mrs. Siddons, and this was Miss Smith, afterwards Mrs. Bartley. Her Lady Mac- beth, Constance, and Queen Katharine, were power- ful embodiments, and I question if they have ever since been so finely portrayed. Miss Smith was formed by nature for the higher walk of her profes- sion. She had a noble and expressive face, full, strong, and melodious voice, capable of any in- tonation, and an original conception of her author; but having such an actress as Siddons to contend with, of course she had every disadvantage in her way in gaining metropolitan fame. After a brief engagement at Covent Garden in 1807, she appeared in Dublin, and became the lead- ing actress of the theatre. In 1811, when Mrs. Siddons retired from the stage, Miss Smith considered there was a fair field open for her. Here she calculated without her MISS SMITH, AND TOM MOORE. 49 host; for no sooner was she fairly installed in the capital, than another Siddons burst on the public, and this splendid actress, now in the sear and yel- low leaf, was thrown into the shade. "A vain bubble is fame." Collins' s unequalled ' Ode on the Passions' Miss Smith delivered in a style that defied all competition; and even Talbot, who had gained such renown in the Irish metropolis in the Ode, frankly acknowledged Miss Smith's superiority. In 1809, Thomas Moore, ever a welcome guest in the green-room of the Crow Street Theatre, was so charmed with Miss Smith in her delivery of the Ode, that he wrote for her a * Melologue upon National Music,' which was spoken by her on her benefit night (1809); and this I perfectly remem- ber. Moore in his preface to this poem says : " This work was written in haste to serve the purpose of a benefit, and it very rarely happens that poetry which costs but little labour to the writer is pro- ductive of much pleasure to the reader; that what- ever merit it had in the recital was produced by the great abilities of the speaker, Miss Smith." Here is the quintessence of modesty, although in an Irishman; but I consider that if any writer in the present day could equal the ' Melologue,' it would be something worthy of note. 4 50 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. As a proof of what I assert, I shall lay the hastily-written poem before my readers: MELOLOGUE UPON NATIONAL Music, Opening Music. " There breathes the language known and felt, Far as the pure air spreads its living zone; Wherever rage can rouse, or pity melt, Thy language of the soul is felt and known. From those meridian plains Where oft of old, on some high tower, The soft Peruvian poured his midnight strain, And called his distant love with such sweet power That when she heard the lonely lay, Not worlds could keep her from his arms away, To the bleak climes of polar night, Where beneath a sunless sky The Lapland lover bids his reindeer fly, And sings along the lengthening waste of snow As blithe as if the blessed light Of vernal Phoebus burn'd upon his brow. Oh, Music ! thy celestial claim Is still resistless still the same ; And faithful as the mighty sea To the pale star that o'er its realms presides ; The spell-bound tides Of human passion rise and fall for thee. Greek Air. List ! 'tis a Grecian maid that sings, While from Ilissus' silvery springs She draws the cool lymph in her graceful urn ; And by her side, in Music's charm dissolving, Some patriot youth the glorious past revolving, Dreams of bright days that never can return MELOLOGUE BY MOORE. 51 When Athens nursed her olive-bough With hands by tyrant's power unchained j And braided for the Muses' brow A wreath by tyrant's touch unstained ; When heroes trod each classic field, Where valiant feet now faintly falter; When every arm was freedom's shield, And every heart was freedom's altar. sh of trumpets. Hark ! 'tis the sound that charms The war-steed's wakening ears. Oh ! many a mother folds her arms Round her boy-soldier when that call she hears ; And though her fond heart sink with fears, Is proud to feel his young pulse bound With valour's fervour at the trumpet's sound. See, from his native hills afar The bold Helvetian flies to war, Careless for what, for whom he fights. For slave or despot, wrongs or rights A conqueror oft, a hero never, Yet lavish of his life-blood still, As if 'twere like his mountain rill That gush'd for ever. Oh, Music ! here, even here, Amid this thoughtless wild career, The soul-felt charm asserts its wondrous power. There is an air which oft among the rocks Of his own loved land at evening hour Is heard, when shepherds homeward pipe their flocks. Oh ! every note of it would thrill his mind With tenderest thoughts would bring around his knees The rosy children whom he left behind, And fill each little angel eye 52 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOE. With sparkling tears, that ask him why He wander'd from his hut for scenes like these I Vain, vain is then the trumpet's brazen roar Sweet notes of home, of love, are all he hears ; And the stern eyes that look'd for blood before, Now melting mournful, lose themselves in tears. Swiss Air. But wake the trumpet's blast again, And rouse the ranks of warrior men. Oh, War ! when truth thy arm employs, And freedom's spirit guides the labouring storm, 'Tis then thy vengeance takes a hallow'd form, And, like Heaven's lightning, sacredly destroys. Nor, Music, through thy breathing sphere Lives there a sound more grateful to the ear Of Him who made all harmony Than the blest sound of fetters breaking, And the first hymn that man awaking From slavery's slumber, breathes to liberty. A Spanish Air. Hark 1 from Spain indignant Spain Bursts the bold enthusiast's strain, Like morning's music on the air ; And seems in every note to swear By Saragossa's ruined streets, By brave Gerona's deathf ul story, That while one Spaniard's life-blood beats That blood shall stain the conqueror's glory. But ah ! if vain the patriot's zeal, What song shall then in sadness tell Of wither'd pride of prospects shaded Of buried hopes remember'd well Of ardour quench'd and honour faded ? Wliat Muse shall mourn the breathless brave, MISS SMITH MRS. BARTLEY. 53 In sweetest dirge at memory's shrine ? What harp shall sigh o'er Freedom's grave ? Oh ! Erin, mavourneen 'twill be thine 1" Air ' The Harp of Tara.' Miss Smith bid adieu to Dublin in 1811, and made her appearance the same year at Drmy Lane. Here in this establishment she met her first love, George Bartley, and became his second wife. In 1817, finding that she, like all other actresses, was thrown into the shade by Miss O'Neill's over- powering talent, she set sail with her husband for the United States. After a brief sojourn in the New World, she returned to England and left the stage. Mrs. Bartley was the daughter of Irish parents, and lost her father at a tender age. Her mother married a second time, and her daughter assumed the name of her stepfather, as it was not a common one, " Smith;" her own was of true Milesian origin, and not adapted for the stage or English lips, " O'Shaughnessy." Mr. and Mrs. Bartley were especial favourites at Court ; and her Majesty, ere she assumed sovereign power, was instructed in elo- cution by this accomplished lady, who may be quoted as one of the ornaments of her sex and the stage. During Miss Smith's engagement in Dublin, she found a powerful rival in Miss Walstein, par- 54 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. ticularly in comedy. This lady's education was of the first order, and she possessed every accomplish- ment necessary for her profession. Those that have witnessed her dignified style and exquisite singing, her Ophelia, and the thrilling effects of her Blanche in the ' Lady of the Lake/ can never forget her. While these two popular and well-experienced women were delighting the capital of Ireland, there was a juvenile actress in the rural districts going through her probationary career, who produced in London a sensation perfectly unexampled in the annals of the drama, and this was Miss O'Neill. It was not customary for aspirants to receive lessons in acting in those days, being considered an art that could not be taught except within the body of a theatre, perfect and regular. But singing de- mands the master, and it is a matter of impossibi- lity to form the vocalist without the instructor. Mrs. Crouch, the principal singer of Drury Lane, had several pupils. Two I shall name, as they had arrived at eminence in London and Dub- lin Miss Griffiths and Miss Tyrer. One married the great comedian of the Irish metropolis, Stewart; and the other the great comedian of the English metropolis, Liston. Those two vocalists and actresses were of dif- ferent calibre; one, Mrs. Stewart, was the beau ideal of Ariel; and Mrs. Liston, the beau ideal of Queen MRS. STEWART. 55 Dollabella, in the burlesque of 'Tom Thumb;' in fact, her abilities and accomplishments were well known to a London audience; while those of her fellow-pupil, Mrs. Stewart, were so appreciated by the Dublin public, that nearly half a century has not obliterated her from the memory of those who have witnessed her inimitable acting and singing in Ariel, Little Pickle, Beda, and Moggy M'Gil- pin characters so well adapted for her sylph-like form and sprightly style of acting. It is very rare indeed that an actress can both dance and sing sufficient to satisfy a judicious audi- ence. The performer just quoted possessed these qualities in an eminent degree ; and although age began to appear in her latter years, yet she main- tained her ascendency over the hearts of those who had witnessed her more juvenile efforts. There was one character, the papers noticed, she was rather out of character in attempting at the age of forty. This was the Spoiled Child, Little Pickle. The manager at length cast the character to a more juvenile actress. This encroachment on what she considered her vested rights Mrs. Stewart resented loudly among her circle of friends, complaining bit- terly of the manager's conduct, and declaring " it was rather too bad after playing the Spoiled Child for twenty years with such eclat, to deprive me of it now." 56 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. Dancing was an especial favourite in Dublin, and the following accomplished and interesting ladies were truly graceful on the light fantastic toe : Miss Adamses, Miss Dennetts, and the Miss Dykes. The eldest Miss Dyke was married to a young actor, Mr. Duff, afterwards popular in America as a tragedian. The second Miss Dyke became the wife of Ireland's great poet, Tom Moore; and the third was united to Wm. Murray, manager of the Edinburgh Theatre. The author of the melodies undertook a jour- ney to Modern Athens, to be present at the mar- riage of his sister-in-law; and while in Edinburgh, Sir Walter Scott was presented to his brother bard by a leading character. The manager, Murray, who was a man of business, proposed that the two poets, Scott and Moore, should attend the theatre on a certain evening; accordingly, the stage-box was fitted up, surmounted by the arms of Scotland and Ireland ; and when the two great men made their entree together, like Napoleon and Alexander at the grand opera * Erfurt/ the whole of the audience rose up, amidst the most rapturous demonstrations of delight and exultation ever heard within the walls of a theatre. The manager of the Dublin Theatre, Frederick Jones, not only possessed the keenest judgment in THE DUBLIN ORCHESTRA. 57 dramatic talent, but lie had what all managers should have, a musical ear. In testimony of this, his orchestra could boast of the following musicians: Thomas Cooke, leader; Thomas Willman, clario- net; Henry Willman, trumpet; Bond, bassoon; Mulligan, horn ; Bartholomew Cooke, oboe; James Barton, principal second violin ; Avery Cooke, piccolo ; Eedmond Cook, violoncello ; Messrs Grey and Garret McDonnell, double basses; and Nichol- son, flute. To say any thing in praise of Nicholson I am sure is superfluous ; his fame is well known as the greatest flautist that ever appeared in Lon- don. Some years after his training in the Irish metropolis, he entered the lists in London against Drouet, acknowledged the first flute in Europe, and gained the victory. As Paganini stands the first on record as a violinist, so does Nicholson as a flautist; for no man ever produced such a tone on the instrument it was, indeed, a magic flute. T. Willman, his brother-in-law, became known to a London pub- lic as the clarionet of the Opera-house, and master of the band of the Guards. Henry Willman, on the trumpet, stood as high in reputation in Dublin as either of the great men named. Trumpeting was not such an easy business in those days as it is in the present. There were no 58 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. keys ; and the performer who could produce a bril- liant tone, run rapid passages, and finish by a shake, was looked upon as a wonder. Such was Henry Willman, who was ever received with acclamations in his concertos. In 1811 Willman introduced the Kent or key- bugle to the public for the first time. This instru- ment, that has led the way for all the keyed instruments that swell our brass bands, was the invention of a poor Irish musician, who sold his right to Logier for a few pounds, and thus enabled this foreigner to put 20,000/. in his pocket. The leader of the orchestra was T. Cooke. In those days it was customary for the leader to play his fiddle, and, by the superiority of its tone, to keep the band together ; in this particular Cooke held a prominent position. The name of Tom Cooke, so long renowned at Old Drury as vocalist, leader, director, and com- poser, is not yet forgotten. This versatile musical genius commenced his career as a boy in the or- chestra of the Dublin Theatre. Ere he reached manhood he was promoted to the rank of leader. 1803 brought him before the public as a composer; this was in consequence of the non-arrival of the finale to the first act of Colman's operatic farce of 'Love laughs at Locksmiths' -just produced at the Haymarket. TOM COOKE THE COMPOSER. 59 Having no electric telegraphs, steamboats, or railways in those times, London and Dublin oc- cupied days in regard to communication. As the case was urgent, Tom Cooke undertook to furnish & finale; and when the original arrived, although the work of a veteran, Michael Kelly, yet the composition of the juvenile musician, Cooke, was declared the superior, and was ever afterwards retained as part and parcel of the opera. That Cooke was appreciated by his townsmen, his benefit-nights fully testified. On those occasions he personated some comic character, and delighted their ears by the brilliancy of his touch in his con- certos on the violin; indeed, he has played a con- certo on eight instruments, but the papers said "that was for his own amusement; something like Liston's attempt at Romeo." In 1812 Tom Cooke announced himself on his benefit-night for the Seraskier in Storace's opera of ' The Siege of Belgrade/ This attempt took the town by surprise; for although Braham, two years previous, created a furore in the character, Cooke, by his masterly science, electrified the audi- ence at the falling of the curtain. That silly cus- tom was not then in vogue of calling people to rise from the stern and firm gripe of death, to come and make them a bow ; no the call when made was for a repetition of the opera. 60 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. This experiment of Cooke in trying his vocal powers lost Dublin its leader and composer. The news of Cooke's success was not slow in reaching London, and the result was an engagement at the Lyceum, then under the mangement of Arnold. 6 The Siege of Belgrade ' was produced ; and such was the impression he made in the Seraskier, that both national theatres contested in a court of law for the services of the Irish vocalist and musician. Drury Lane gained the day, and Cooke went over to that establishment as vocalist, composer, and director of music. Not only in a musical sense was he celebrated, but as a wit and mimic; he was noted in the latter department, and his mock Italian trio, where he imitated a prima donna, the lover, and old man, was pronounced of the first order of burlesque. At the period the ancient ballad of the * Old English Gentleman' burst on the world, two pub- lishers laid claim to the copyright, as authors of the accompaniment. The case was tried in the Court of King's Bench before Lord Denman, who acted as judge. Tom Cooke was subpoenaed as a witness for one of the parties, and Sir James Scarlett (father of the general) was retained as counsel. In the course of the trial, Sir James elicited the following evidence from Cooke : COOKE AND SIR J. SCARLETT. 61 Sir James. Now, Mr. Cooke, you say the melodies are the same, but different ? Tom Cooke. I said the notes in the two copies were alike, but with a different accent. Sir James. What is a musical accent ? Tom Cooke. When I explain any thing in music, I charge a guinea a lesson (a bud laugh in court). Sir James, rather ruffled. Never mind your terms. I ask you what is a musical accent ? Can you see it ? Tom Cooke. No. Sir James. Can you feel it. Tom Cooke. A musician can (great laughter}. Sir James, enraged. Now, sir, don't beat about the bush, but tell his lordship and the jury, who are supposed to know nothing about it, the mean- ing of what you call accent ? Tom Cooke. The accent in music is a stress laid on a particular note, as you would lay a stress on a particular word, for the purpose of being better understood. If I were to say " You are an ass" the accent would rest on ass ; but were I to say " You are an ass," it would rest on you, Sir James. (Reiterated shouts of laughter by the whole court, in which the judge and bench joined.) When silence was obtained, Lord Denman 02 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. accosted the cliopfallen counsel : " Are you satis- fied, Sir James ?" Sir James, deep-read as lie was acknowledged, had become Scarlett, blushing like the rose, very unlike his brethren in general, and considering the tenor of Tom Cooke's evidence was not in accord- ance with the harmony of his feelings, being in- strumental in holding him up to ridicule, Sir James, in rather a con-spirito style, told the witty Thomas Cooke to go down ; and the popular vocalist and composer retired amidst screams of laughter and applause. It is a true saying of one of our talented writers that "life's a lottery." There were two men employed in the Dublin Theatre in 1812 who held different positions one was the great architectural painter from the opera, London, Signor Marinavi; and the other was the veteran Palmer, master of the wardrobe. The Italian artist squandered away his splendid income, and was in old age reduced to grind colours at one of the theatres in London ; while the other has passed through a long life as custodian of the cos- tumes of Old Drury proving that there was fidelity on one side and esteem on the other. The drama in Ireland half a century back was thought more of than it is at present. The leading men of society often tried their powers at the Kil- KILKENNY AMATEURS. 63 kenny Theatre. Here is the copy of a bill with the poet Moore's name: THEATRE, KILKENNY. On Monday evening, August 2i, 1810, wDl be performed Shakespeare's tragedy of COKIOLANUS. Ccnolanm . . Sir Wm. Beecher. Comlnlus . . , Mr. Rory. Mcnlnius . . . Mr. Walker. Brutus . . . Lieutenant Walker. Volumnia . . . Miss Smith. Vi/'ffilia . . . Miss Walstein. Child , . . MissWeston. VoUeiaw* Titllus Aiijidius , . Mr. Power. Voluslus . , . Mr. Dalton. Officer . . . Mr. Norie. After which, Till Allingham's Farce of FORTUNE'S FROLIC. Sol hi Honrjlieculthe Ploughman . Mr. T. Moore. Old Snacks , . , . Mr. G. Ponsonby. Rattle ...,,, Mr. Gardiner. Mr. Franks Hon. F. Browne. Miss Nancy Miss Dyke. Dolly Mrs. T. Cooke. Margery . . , . , Mrs. Hitchcock. A small work on the drama was published in Dublin from the pen of an actress of talent Miss Macaulay. The book was entitled * The Dangers 64 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOE. and Vicissitudes of a Theatrical Life.' This lady tried her fortune at Covent Garden in Marie Stuart, and failed. She then turned her attention to the pulpit for a living, like others, and com- menced preaching in London, at the Rotunda in Blackfriars Eoad. Here her conventicle was crowded to excess. Her splendid clear and declamatory powers were refreshing, and considered a treat to those who had sense and ears. Yet this gifted woman was attacked by the press, and called Miss " Mac-all- Lie." ' When the high and intellectual join in the exhibition of the dramatic art, it must convince the worthless and upstart denouncer that his silly efforts to lower it are without effect. Even as far back as the days of Garrick, Lady Talbot bestowed her hand on an accomplished actor of the name of Bryan. Lady Fox Strangways be- came the wife of a comedian celebrated as Lord Foppington O'Brien; and the Marchioness of Antrim was united to Mr. Phelps, of Drury Lane Theatre not the present popular tragedian. Such honours paid to the members of the stage are a proof of the high esteem it is held in by the exalted of society. If we come down from the time of David Garrick to almost the present period, we shall find KILKENNY AMATEURS. 65 many actresses that have ascended into the circles of the nobles of the land such as the elegant and accomplished Miss Brunton : she was raised to the rank of Countess of Craven. Miss Farren became the Countess of Derby ; Miss Bolton, Lady Thurlow ; Miss Stephens, Countess of Essex ; Miss O'Neill, LadyBeecher; Mrs. Nisbet, Lady Booth- by ; Miss Mellon, Duchess of St. Alban's ; Miss Paton, Lady Lennox; Miss Foote, Countess of Harrington ; and Miss Saunders, Lady Don : while on the Continent members of the stage have borne a coronet on their brow, and yet have often cheered the world with their vocal and histrionic powers as witness Bistori, Sontag, and Piccolo- mini. The amateur theatricals at the Kilkenny The- atre in 1810 made this beautiful town a reunion of the dite of Ireland, yet there never was an instance of any of the distinguished amateurs adopting the stage as a profession; while in the capital several abandoned Church, State, and Army for the desperate chance the histrionic art yields. Hughes known in Dublin as Con Hughes threw up a position in a Government office, and made his debut at the Theatre Boyal as Ollapod in ' The Poor Gentleman.' Hughes's imitation of Lord Norbury, the celebrated wit and judge and his imitation of old Williams as Lord Grizzle 5 66 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. gained great popularity ; but liis fame was not permanent : he sank, and died in neglect. Gaven, another popular amateur, gave up a situation in the Customs of 300Z. a-year for a secondary position on the stage ; but what chance has unfledged talent in a theatre of rank among veterans noted for their abilities ? In the course of the first season Gaven found he was not on a bed of roses. Occasionally he had to do the walking gentleman. This unlooked-for style of role brought the young actor in collision with the Boys in the gallery ; and although in his comedy and burlesque they applauded to the very- echo, yet as a prim neatly-dressed young man they jeered and ridiculed in unmistakable terms. Years before, in Dublin, the elder Mathews, in his acting as the walking gentleman, was treated in the same manner. After a few seasons Gaven began to get weary, and sank into despondency and died. He had abilities for the old men. His figure and face were not unlike Fawcett's, whose style he followed ; and his imitations of Fullam and Williams, in Totterton and Vigil, were pronounced as near to life as possible. When Edmund Kean appeared in Dublin, Gaven gave an imitation of him in Shylock. Kean himself witnessed it, and was the loudest CURE FOB STAGE-STRUCK HEROES. 67 in his plaudits. Gaven's voice being husky, he could mimic that portion of Kean's that grated on the ear the upper part when he was im- passioned. It is seldom a man is a hero in his own country. Had Gaven retired to another locality, without doubt he would have made a stand in the comic old men. He possessed many requi- sites education, gentlemanly manners, a comic broad face, and a thickset but not a vulgar figure. Unless the dramatic profession is embraced when young, it had better not be embraced at all : it must be roughed. The two amateurs just noticed Hughes and Gaven were too advanced in life to be advised. Stern and inflexible parents could have no weight with grown-up children. About this period two instances occurred in the Irish metropolis where two aspiring youths were cured of their theatrical mania. A distinguished barrister was educating his son for the same profession ; but, instead of study- ing Coke and Littleton, this young gentleman was pondering over Shakespeare and Otway. Weeks passed, and months. Still the law was neglected, and the house rang with " A horse ! a horse ! my kingdom for a horse !" At last the wise father hit upon the following expedient in order to cure his son's mania: He took the 68 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. Theatre Koyal for one night, and proposed to his son to play his favourite piece of Eichard III. Of course the young gentleman gladly fixed on like all amateurs the most difficult part. The wise father who, of course, had orders ad libitum sent them forth among his friends ; and as the claqueurs are arranged and marshalled in Paris, so were those in Dublin arranged, and given their cue when to take up the points. The night arrived, and the tragedy commenced; but as no points were made in either the first or second act, all passed off quietly till the third began, and then were let loose the dogs of war, and cat-calls, whistles, and watchmen's rattles were commingled in one uni- versal din that beggared all description. The curtain dropped, never to rise more on the futile attempts of the young lawyer. Thus was cured of all his tragic flights a youth who in after-years became an eminent barrister. Another aspirant for histrionic fame in Dublin felt a penchant for the drama, but this stripling was not so favoured with a kind indulgent parent ; quite the reverse : his father was both fiery and irritable, and had the greatest horror of a theatre ; in fact, he never entered one. His hopeful son arranged on the quiet to play Young Norval on an actor's benefit, and matters were so well man- aged that the old gentleman was kept in ignor- HORSEWHIPPING LORD RANDOLPH. 69 ance till the evening of the performance, and then by some unlucky chance it reached his ears. Instead of flying into a passion and marring the entertainment, he resolved to add to it. Accord- ingly, when the doors were opened, he took his seat in the stage-box, enveloped in a cloak and armed with a stout horsewhip. At length the curtain drew up, and the tra- gedy, that was soon to be a comedy, commenced. The youthful Norval appeared, and was received with the accustomed applause, and began the well- known address, " My name is Norval." The words were scarcely out of his mouth when the enraged father jumped up in the box and roared out, "You lie, you rascal ! it isn't it's Mat Finnigan I" and, suiting the action to the word, jumped on the stage and seized the noble shepherd ; when flou- rishing the whip over his head, Lord Randolph, who was a little in the rear, rushed forward to the rescue of his protegd, and received as hearty a horsewhipping as he could desire, while the house was convulsed with screams of laughter. The curtain dropped, and this proved the young gentleman's last appearance on any stage. Till a trial is made, acting is always con- sidered an easy task to accomplish. The greatest celebrities such as the Kembles, Siddonses, Jor- dans, Cookes, Keans, and O'Neills were com- 70 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. pelled to rough it amidst adversity in the barn, instead of entering the Theatre Eoyal as principals surrounded by claqueurs and hireling scribes ; and ere they reached their proud position many trials had to be endured, and many obstacles surmounted. CHAPTER III. Miss O'Neill Memoir of Conway New Theatre in Hawkins Street. Anecdote of the lady who was buried alive Mana- ger Harwood The Preaching Player Edmund Kean and Connolly Sheridan Knowles, in the double capacity of strolling actor and schoolmaster. Miss O'NEILL made her dfbut at the Theatre Koyal, Crow Street, in 1811, in 'The Soldier's Daughter/ as the Widow Cheerly. This young actress for she was only nineteen years of age succeeded two staid actresses of great abilities ; and no matter whether as Volumnia, Constance, Juliet, or Lady Teazle, she proved that Ireland had not lost her prestige since the days of Woffington.* Miss O'Neill left Dublin in 1815, and made her first appearance at Covent Garden in Juliet, and never in the metropolis was such an impression made by any actress even Byron has left on record that he was fearful of trusting himself to witness Miss O'Neill's Juliet, fearing it might weaken the impression which ]\lrs. Siddons had left. Certainly, Miss O'Neill had one great ad- * Mrs. Siddons in her 'Memoirs,' says: "No woman can reach perfection till the age of nine-and-twenty or thirty." 72 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. vantage on the night of her debut, she had the best Eomeo since the days of the silvertoned Barry Conway, and it was remarked that she never acted so well with any other performer. I am proud to have the opportunity of bearing testimony to any act of liberality on the part of a manager. Miss O'Neill, at the end of the season, must have been astounded when the manager, Henry Harris, handed to her 500/. worth of dia- monds an act to which no parallel can be cited in the annals of the drama. Certainly she filled the theatre to the ceiling every night, and a full treasury was the consequence. A pamphlet was published in London the first season that Miss O'Neill appeared, written by a man of literary talent, giving an outline of the young actress's talent and personal attractions. The following are some of its chief points: "There is a feminine and lovely delicacy in her features, such sweetness in her voice, such modest and graceful placidity in all her actions, that she seems peculiarly formed by nature for the sensibilities of private life ; and I may venture with greater con- fidence on this declaration because I have the pub- lic voice with me. " Miss O'Neill's representation of Mrs. Haller is the finest moral lesson that ever was delivered from the pulpit or professor's chair. 73 "This charming and youthful actress has re- jected all pomp, pride, and circumstance of the studied, drilled, and mechanical heroine of the stage; discarding the trammels of custom, pre- cedent, and conventional rules, handed down from one actress to another preferring her own judg- ment and the pure effusions of nature working direct from the heart. " On the first night of her appearance at Covent Garden, she established a fame by far exceeding that of any actress before her although possessing the advantages of high provincial celebrity, years of experience, and family interest. Miss O'Neill is truly original; and previous to her entrte on the London boards, never witnessed any of the great people. Her figure is of the finest model her features beautiful, yet full of expression displaying at once purity of mind and loveliness of counte- nance. Her demeanour is graceful and modest, her voice melody itself in all its tones; and with the exception of the greatest actress of her day, the celebrated and original Lady Randolph Mrs. Crawford- Miss O'Neill is the only actress with that genuine feeling that is capable of melting her audiences to tears. In her hand the handkerchief is not hoisted as the only signal of distress. Her pauses are always judicious and impressive; her attitudes appropriate and effective, either in regard 74 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. to ease or dignity. She indulges in no sudden starts; no straining after effect; no wringing of hands, or screaming at the top of the voice; no casting her eyes round the boxes, searching for applause, or addressing her discourse to the lustre or the gods in the upper regions; no whining or pining, moaning or groaning, roaring or bellowing, ' out-heroding Herod.' No ; the great beauty of Miss O'Neill is that she never o'ersteps the modesty of nature ; thus casting to the winds all the little tricks which secondary actresses resort to." Miss O'Neill made her last appearance in Queen Katharine, at Co vent Garden, in 1819, to a crowded and brilliant audience, and retired from the London stage in her bloom, and in the full splendour of her triumphant career. She visited the city that made her Dublin and played a round of her characters for the last time in public. She then became the wife of Sir Wm. Beecher, M.P. for Mallow, county of Cork. Conway called "handsome Conway" in the *Life of Mrs. Piozzi,' the Mrs. Thrale of Johnson's days stood in an equal degree in Dublin with Miss O'Neill in popularity; and in Falconbridge, Romeo, Alexander, Jaffier, Mark Antony, and Hamlet, was declared by the critics unequalled even in London. His power over the female heart was well known ; and what it must have been may CONWAY*S FIRST APPEARANCE. 75 be surmised when the daughter of a duke went almost raving mad for this Apollo of an actor ! In 1810, when the great and accomplished lead- ing actor, Holman, withdrew from Dublin, Conway was engaged to succeed him, and soon became the most popular performer in the theatre: even when "pitted with the noblest Roman of them all" Kemble Conway displayed original powers of genius, that divided the applause with the London star. In the course of his brilliant career in the Irish metropolis, he received flattering offers from Covent Garden; yet, if he had given the matter mature consideration, it was his interest to remain among the people that appreciated his talent in every possible way. He well knew the Kembles at Covent Garden had their clique, and were well-established in pub- lic opinion, while in Dublin he reigned undisputed, the first actor of the kingdom. Notwithstanding, in 1813, Conway signed an engagement for three years with the management of Covent Garden, and left the city that had cheered and fanned his dawn- ing talent. He soon however had cause to repent the change, being compelled by the terms of his engage- ment to play seconds to Kemble; and although his- Romeo was acknowledged by the unbiassed un- equalled, yet in a few years he sunk even in his own estimation, and sailed for the United States. 76 BECOLLECTIONS OF AJST ACTOR. In 1828, news reached England that this ele- gant and idolised tragedian put an end to all his earthly cares and troubles by jumping into the sea on his passage to Boston. The last time I ever witnessed Conway's act- ing was in the Birmingham Theatre, in 1820, when he represented Lear, a character (in appearance) he was every way unsuited for. Only imagine a man six feet two inches, the beau ideal of Romeo, Falconbridge, Alexander, Fitzjames, and Mark Antony, personating the aged and venerable king; yet, in regard to the embodiment of the role, he stood out in bold relief, amidst a staff of talented actors, in a superior style to all except Kean. I have stated Conway, in the end, lost his own opinion. This was caused by the attacks of hireling petty scribes, whose praises would have been cen- sure in disguise; yet he permitted the critiques of imbeciles on his talent to crush his spirit and un- dermine his very reason. There is no question but Conway was the only actor fit to succeed John Kemble at Covent Garden in 1817, when that tragedian withdrew from public life; and if the ill-fated subject of my notice had remained in provincial shades till that period, he would have stood alone as the Brutus, Coriolanus, Alexander, Hamlet, Romeo, and Jaffier, of the day; for this sole reason that his acting was THE NEW TIIEATEE KOYAL, DUBLIN. 77 not founded on Kemble, as that of all others except Edmund Kean. In the beginning of the present century, pleas- ing the eye with gorgeous scenery and cavalcades were not so much resorted to as pleasing the senses with legitimate dramas and good acting ; so when the Dublin Theatre was deprived by London mana- gers of its sterling actors and actresses, then the spirited and liberal manager, Frederick Jones, sunk in a financial sense; and in 1819, to complete the onslaught the metropolitan dramatic despots had made, he was deprived in a most unjust manner of his patent, and ruined altogether. Jones retired to his suburban seat, Fortix Grove, where he ended his days in quiet; while a new theatre was erected and opened in 1820, in Hawkins Street, by Henry Harris of Covent Garden. The press and the public resented the treat- ment which Jones received, and after four seasons Harris had to retire, deputing Abbott as his lieu- tenant. The deputy was equally unsuccessful as the leader, and in two or three seasons Abbott vacated his position as manager. Alfred Bunn became the next director; but his term of dramatic sway was brief indeed, for matters became so criti- cal, that Alfred had to beat a sudden retreat in the shades of evening. 78 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. Though Ireland could boast of a theatre perfect in all its details, I am sorry to say the Crow Street establishment was its only one, except Belfast. This I can vouch from personal experience in 1813, when 1 became a member of the Dundalk Theatre. The manager was a captain on half-pay. This gentleman's theatrical name was Harwood, l>ut his real cognomen was Colthurst. His father had been an eminent solicitor in Dublin, and is men- tioned in the 'Life of Edmund Burke' as legal ad- viser to the Lord-Lieutenant's secretary, Hamilton known as " one-speech Hamilton," as he never in the Irish House of Commons attempted a second speech after he took his seat, and that was so bril- liant that he was fearful of trying his powers again, in case of failure. The same feeling took posses- sion of Goldsmith after he wrote his one novel, the ' Vicar of Wakefield.' It would have been a very good thing for the public if other talented writers had followed the renowned Oliver's plan. Harwood's company was what is called a sharing concern, or commonwealth. I must confess, when I bring to mind the distribution of the spoil at that period, my ideas of a commonwealth are not so much in favour of such a state of things as to desire a commonwealth in this country. The mana- ger took five shares three for his scenery, &c., one for himself, and one for his daughter. AN IRISH SHAKING COMPANY. 79 The scenery was on a limited scale, and the painting not altogether in the Telbin or Stanfield style; yet it was very picturesque, and in regard to utility could transport the ideas of the auditor equally from the shores of England to those of the main of America. Captain Harwood, although the light comedian of his company, was upwards of seventy years of age, and would indulge in the juveniles. He was the Bob Handy, Young Rapid, Frederick Bramble, and Young Wilding. The magistrates assume a power in Ireland un- known in England. They take upon themselves the giving and taking away permission for theatri- cal performances. Although the theatre in Dundalk had authority to open, yet an order arrived that it should be closed; and so it remains. The manager and his troupe had to move on to Drogheda, a handsome and hos- pitable town, where the actors were not interfered with in the exercise of their calling. A respectable family, in this locality, who were friends to the drama, were ever noticed by all strangers who entered the town. The mother, a few years before the theatre opened, died, and was buried. Being a woman of property, she had desired that a valuable ring which she wore should be buried with her. A servant in the 80 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. family being aware of this, made up his mind that so valuable a gem should not be lost to the world. So at the witching time of night, when churchyards yawn, he stole stealthily along, opened the grave and coffin, and commenced his midnight plunder. But from evil at times comes good. In cutting the finger off the corpse to get possession of the ring, the lady revived, and exclaimed, " John, what's the matter?" John, thunderstruck, without waiting to reply, made his way out of the churchyard, while the lady raised herself up, walked home, and knocked at the door, which was opened by her astonished husband. This lady recovered, and lived many years after- wards. I have seen her as she frequently visited the theatre. A short time ago, the London journals mentioned an aged lady's death in Drogheda, and alluded to the circumstance of the ring and her having been buried alive in her early days. This tale has been often told, though the locality has been placed in another quarter; but it is an authenticated fact well known in Drogheda. The biographers of the great London actors have spoken of those that stroll or wander in a very contemptuous style, never bearing in mind that the elevated party they are plastering with their fulsome flattery began life in the barn or outhouse. APPETITE OF STROLLING PLAYERS. 81 Those barns were absolutely the first school or place of instruction where the unfledged actor re- ceived the impetus in his course to the Theatre Koyal. Those who formed a part and parcel of a strolling company never lost cast, but were always eligible for the national theatre of the country when their abilities were discovered. Harwood had in his troupe men of talent and of education; but they were raw in their profession, and lacked two very necessary qualities, industry and enterprise. They were content with their hard lot; and as long as they could get drink and victuals and good parts, they were satisfied. A gentleman living in the suburbs of Drogheda invited the manager to his house frequently to dine. As Harwood had seen service with Admiral Kep- pel, and as he had moved as a gentleman in Dublin and Edinburgh when attached to the theatres of those cities, he was a man who abounded in anec- dote, and his society was consequently everywhere courted. Christmas being near, this gentleman con- sidered a good dinner on the day that comes but once a year would be desirable, and accordingly he told the manager that he would present to the company a quarter of an ox. " I suppose," said he, " they can eat." " Yes, by my faith," cries Har- wood, " they can ate indeed, but it would do your heart good to see them drink." 6 82 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. Generally speaking, actors are considered to have a greater penchant for the latter than the for- mer. That is the great evil of the profession, as it is indeed of all professions, and of all who foolishly spend their money, injure their health, and shor- ten their days; and for what? It diverts the hard- earned cash into an improper channel it feeds the useless and worthless ; and scarcely a murder that is committed but the wretch acknowledges " drink to have been the cause." There was an actor in Harwood's company, Macklin no relation to Charles educated in Tri- nity College, Dublin, for the Church. This talented man, instead of embracing the position laid out by his friends, made his appearance at the Crow Street Theatre, and became a stationary actor. Wild and intemperate companions brought on intemperate habits, and Macklin was discharged, and com- pelled to wander in the provinces, abandoned by his friends. When" engaged, he acted; and when his necessities pressed, he preached. Yes, Macklin may be called the first of open- air preachers. Such a mode of holding forth in highways and byeways was unknown fifty years back. Macklin was engaged as a star-preacher in a certain town, and all the walls were placarded with the name of the reverend gentleman. Macklin was one of those that never said " no," THE PEE ACHING PLAYER. 83 when asked to take a glass; and on his way to the chapel where he was to preach, he was tempted, and had not the moral courage to resist. He sipped and sipped, and when he reached the con- venticle and was ushered up into the pulpit, his pious meditations took such a turn that it was dis- covered reason was made prisoner, and the pious discourse so earnestly anticipated fell to the ground, while the orator was conveyed to his lodgings half- seas over. Macklin when sober could declaim with effect, and once, on the Calton Hill in Edinburgh, he had a congregation of 6000 persons, that were rivetted and charmed with his oratorical powers. This singular character made it a rule never to re- main more than two or three months in one locality. He annually made a circuit of the three kingdoms. When bordering on sixty years of age, a relative died and left him 400?. a-year, and then he changed and became entirely a new man. Among the military, the most awkward recruits are the parsons, doctors, and lawyers ; but in dra- matic matters, I have known such characters turn out the best actors. Farquhar, in his comedy of the ' Recruiting Officer,' notices the Welsh curate who had en- listed, and who if it had not been for his fiddle- playing, would have been dismissed the service. 84 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. The tragic hero of Harwood's company was bred to the law; and although his father placed him in a position in the Lord Chancellor's office in Dublin, he preferred to be introduced in 'Black-eyed Susan/ and cast his fate in the uncertainties of provincial acting in the rural districts. This was Timothy Conolly; a man capable of embodying Hamlet or Romeo, and who yet for years wandered in his native country amidst difficulties and troubles. Finding tragedy so unprofitable, he threw himself into comedy, and assumed the broad and racy Irishmen. In 1825, while performing in the Cork Theatre, Edmund Kean witnessed his Irish Tutor, and pro- nounced him the best Irishman on the stage. Kean, like George Canning, being the son of Irish parents, always boasted of his nationality, and called himself "Kane." Edmund Kean gave Conolly a letter of recommendation to Price, the manager of Drury Lane. This manager was an American, and was called Half-Price, in conse- quence of his swearing propensities. Big with hope, Conolly crossed the Channel, and entered London for the first time. Having waited on the potentate of Drury Lane, Price paid attention to Kean's letter, and made arrangements for a trial, and accordingly the popular farce, writ- ten by the Earl of Glengal, < The Irish Tutor/ was cast, and announced in the bills. However, PROVINCIAL ACTORS. 85 Conolly never appeared, for some hidden interest was employed in the theatre to prevent his debut, and his funds failing, compelled the unfortunate comedian to retrace his steps back to that land which he idolised. These particulars I had from Conolly in London, July 1825. In 1830, this comedian succeeded his father as head clerk in the Lord Chancellor's office, Four Courts, Dublin, where he eventually ended his mortal career. Writers have ever considered strolling actors fair game for attack, and have stood upon no cere- mony in holding them up to ridicule. Even such a beautiful and gifted writer as Washington Irving has denominated them as " vagabonds," while Mar- ryatt treats itinerant actors with greater contumely and contempt. Yet if we take into consideration the trials the country actors have had to wade through at a period when regular theatres were rare indeed, it cannot be denied but, as a body, they generally attracted the notice of the noble and dignified portion of the community. I have known in the little town of Hillsborough the Downshire family treat the actors of Haywood's company with the greatest kindness and familiarity. There was one actor, Livingstone, a Scotch- man, whose personation of Sir Pertinax MacSyco- phant elicited from the Marquis of Downshire the highest eulogiums. This comedian was a diamond 86 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. in the rough, and having never emerged out of a poor strolling company, was deficient in that dignity which the most difficult and brilliant Scotchman that was ever penned demanded. In regard to force, depth of feeling, pure and natural dialect, and raciness of humour, I pronounce Liv- ingstone the best interpreter I have ever witnessed of the 'Man of the World.' Little do the public understand the trials and cares endured by actors in the rural districts at the beginning of the present century. If England had made some advances by establishing neat compact theatres in localities where formerly stood merely barns, Ireland remained in a primitive state; and the gifted Thespian, after wading through a five-act tragedy as the blood-stained Richard, per- haps was rewarded with one shilling and three pieces of candle as his share, while the rapacious manager would convert to his own use the chief portion of the proceeds. It is no wonder, then, that the unfortunate actors, doomed by cir- cumstances to launch their fate in such a troubled sea, should founder and become a total wreck, " dying ere they sicken." As an instance of this, a juvenile actress, scarcely seventeen, the daughter of the manager, Harwood, often compared to the first woman of her age, Miss O'Neill, never soared beyond an itinerant SHERIDAN KNOWLES. 87 company, and sank into obscurity unknown and unthought of by the London biographers. In 1814 there was settled in Belfast, teaching " the young idea how to shoot/' a character that in a few years afterwards burst on a London public as the author of the historical tragedy of * Virginius.' This was Sheridan Knowles. This highly-gifted man first entered Belfast as an actor in the theatre under Montague Talbot's management; but finding the stage a doubtful financial calling, he wisely abandoned it. Knowles being a native of a country where oratory is a part and parcel of the people's natural gifts, gave up his school, and took up his abode in Glasgow as a professor of elocution. Here he prospered, for he was among the only people that feel an interest in acquiring an art little understood by the community in general. Many have come forward to give instructions in elocution without gifted powers, and their efforts have ever proved a nullity ; but as Knowles was capable of speaking a speech "trippingly on the tongue," he succeeded. Knowles, like his countrymen Oliver Goldsmith and Thomas Moore, attempted every style of literature, and even as a pulpit-orator commanded the attention of the public, when he held forth at Venion Chapel, in the metropolis of England. CHAPTEE IV. A Strolling Company in the West of Scotland Greenock and the scenery of the Clyde The last days of an old Actor Moss, Macklin's pupil A Manager and his Company in the Lock-up The Players driven from Whitehaven, be- cause they frightened the herrings from the nets London Theatricals in 1816 The Rival Houses Kean, Mrs. Bart- ley, Sinclair, Emery, Miss Stephens, Mrs. Egerton Lucius Junius Brutus Booth May wood: his debut and failure Croyden Theatre in 1817 Tyrone Power in 1818 and 1834 Opening of the Coburg, and list of Company Theatre at Peckham Buckstone as Walking Gentleman, and Power as Light Comedian Greenwich Theatre opened by Saville Faucett Planche's debut as an Actor First appearance of Miss Huddart Mrs. Warner. MY respected and gentlemanly manager, Captain Harwood, in his campaigns through the Emerald Isle, often led his unfortunate troupe into awkward dilemmas; and although the commander had a base for his operations (his half -pay), yet the company had to battle as they could, in order to preserve intact the baggage and scrip and scrip- page. After twenty months of storm and sunshine, in December 1814 I crossed the Channel for the first STROLLEES IN WEST OF SCOTLAND. 89 time, and landed in the good town of Greenock, on the picturesque and beautiful Clyde the river whose waters were the first in the British Isles that felt the pressure of that power which Fulton brought to perfection in the capital of the New World in 1805. Yes : while the waters of the Thames and the Liffey were untroubled by the steam-engine, the bonnie Clyde was fated to boast as the first spot in Europe where that invention should be tested, the civilising power of which is daily drawing nations together and uniting mankind in the bonds of love and friendship, instead of keeping them in enmity and hatred. In speaking of the Clyde, those who have never entered that noble river by Bute's Isle and witnessed the romantic scenery on either side of its broad and expansive bosom, can have no idea of its magnificence and beauty. I have navigated the Rhine, Rhone, Seine, Loire, Garonne, Scheldt, Arno, Tiber, Trent, Thames, Dee, Tweed, Wye, Tay, Colne, and Liffey, and yet must admit the great and power- ful streams alluded to failed to impress me with the same charm and wonder as the bonnie and beautiful Clyde. In bleak and stormy December I made my debut in the ancient burgh of Stirling. This 90 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. event occurred "on the occasion of the benefit ot an aged and crippled actor, who in his day had delighted three capitals, London, Dublin, and Edinburgh. This was Moss, the pupil of Charles Macklin, and^J the original in Dublin of Lord Lumbercourt, in the comedy of ' The Man of the World.' Moss sustained] the' rank of principal comedian in Dublin for "several seasons, and afterwards was attached to the Theatre Royal, Edinburgh. It was here in Modern Athens he appeared as Shylock ; and his delineation of the most difficult of Shakespearian characters was acknowledged by the Edinburgh critics the best of the day. In fact, so great an impression was made that *The Merchant of Venice' never failed to attract a numerous audience. Moss caught the inspiration from the renowned Macklin, whose Jew, by Pope's acknowledgment, was unrivalled even in the days of David Garrick, and he bequeathed to his proteg^ Moss, that con- ception which descended to the most original and extraordinary Shylock of any period Edmund Kean. The fame of Moss's acting soon reached Lon- don, and George Colman sent him an offer for the Haymarket Theatre, where he made his first appearance in Moliere's comedy of ' L' Avare' (the MOSS THE PUPIL OF MACKLIN. 91 Miser). So powerful was Moss as Lovegold, that night after night he was hailed with acclamations. Moss considered that he had made his ground good In the metropolis ; but, alas ! he reckoned without his host; for on a certain night he was guilty of one of those practical jokes, too common in former days, that ruined him : in the scene w T here the Miser rushes about the stage distracted at the loss of his gold, in the fury of his acting he spied the leader of the band seated on his perch, and as he was adorned with a powdered wig Moss fancied it too tempting to be resisted ; accordingly he made an onslaught on Monsieur Nozay's toupie, and discovered to the public view the Frenchman's bald Ute\ thus bringing Into ridicule a man for whom Colman had the highest esteem. From this M. Nozay the slang cry of the gallery of " Play up, Nosey !" took its origin. This insult the manager resented in the follow- ing manner : After the run of ' The Miser,' George Colman produced his comedy, in three acts, of ' Ways and Means ;' and instead of giving the comic old man, Sir David Dunder, to Moss, he cast it to a hand- some young man, Jack Bannister; and the beau ideal of a comic old man, Moss, was obliged to appear in M'Quirk a contemptible character, far beneath his talent. 92 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOE. Sir David was entirely out of the line of Ban- nister; but being a native and to the manners born, and the son of a London actor, were suffi- cient for him to play " high, low, Jack, and the game" with impunity. Moss returned to the provinces, and resolved to have nothing more to do with tyrannical man- agers, and so became one himself. A circumstance in Moss's career as a manager happened in the town of Whitehaven. He opened the theatre with some degree of success ; but in less than a w r eek on a Saturday night Moss and his troupe were conveyed to the lock-up. There they remained all Sunday, in durance vile. Oil Monday morning they were taken before the magistrates, and a most novel charge was brought against them. An inhabitant of the town, called respectable and rational, came forward in open court to denounce the actors as a curse to society in general, but to Whitehaven in particular. This wiseacre declared : " Before the theatre opened, there was an immense take of herrings, but since the players entered the town they have all fled, and the fishermen are now suffering. This misfor- tune he ascribed entirely to the actors, who always bring a curse wherever they appear." The magis- trates looked over their books and consulted the man that generally knows something the town- KEAN'S FIRST CONCEPTION OF SHYLOCK. 93 clerk. They then found nothing could be done in the business but to shut up the theatre and send the sons of the " Wicked One" away. This is no romance, but an actual fact. Scotland was the scene of Moss's campaigns. He was manager of the theatre in Dumfries in 1805. The low comedian was a young man of seventeen, and this aspirant derived from the veteran manager instructions of great benefit in his after career. One evening, while Moss was representing Shylock, this youthful low comedian exclaimed, " If ever / should play Shylock, it shall be after the style of Mr. Moss." The actors around him burst into a loud fit of laughter, tickled, no doubt, at the stripling's arrogance. But in nine years afterwards, this presumptuous young man did play Shylock at the National Theatre ; and this youth was Edmund Kean. Moss in management was unfortunate; and when I came in collision with him in 114, in Stirling, I found him poor, deprived of the use of his limbs, and still by dire necessity compelled to exercise his powers in the trial-scene of Shylock, in order to raise the daily rations. Broken-down in spirit and body, I could perceive the master-mind in his trial-scene of * The Merchant of Venice/ although obliged to sit during the performance a portraiture admitted by the best of judges supe- 94 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. rior to either that of Cooke or Kemble, particularly the latter. Kean was allowed by Byron, Hazlitt, and Sheridan to be the best Shylock since the days of Macklin ; and here was the man that laid the foundation of that great delineation a man the equal of any comedian in the metropolis, and superior to most in education; for Moss was trained for one of the liberal professions, and yet in old age was deserted and abandoned by that public he had so oft delighted in his career of half-a-century. Such things are enough to make us doubt the assertions of the Chancellor of the Exchequer, that "the drama has taken deep root in this country," or lead us to imagine it was rather like the root of the boy's twig, that he had planted in his tiny garden over-night, and pulled up in the morning to see how it was going on. If sterling talent is crushed and overpowered, what becomes of the legitimate drama? Why, it sinks to the state of a country deprived by emi- gration of its people, alluded to by the first writer of his age Goldsmith : " But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroyed can never be supplied." After two years' sojourn among a people per- fectly alive to literature and the drama, I bade adieu to Caledonia, and arrived in London, Sep- tember 1816. THE RIVAL HOUSES IN 1816. 95 A sketch of the London theatres at this period may not be uninteresting : Theatre Royal, Drury Lane. On the opening night of the season 'Macbeth' was performed. Mac- beth, Kean ; MacdufF, Alex. Eae ; Malcolm, Jas. Wallack; Banquo, Bengough ; Duncan, Powell; Hecate, Bellamy; speaking Witches, Dowton, Mun- den, and Knight; Lady .Macbeth, Mrs. Bartley. Here Kean had unquestionably the best Lady Macbeth since Mrs. Siddons disappeared from the stage. Mrs. Bartley possessed every quality for this superhuman creation of Shakespeare a noble and expressive face, a bold and flexible voice, a dignified and commanding [action, and a thorough conception of her author. London at this period did not number a fourth of its present population, yet two national theatres could be supported, with a weekly expenditure of 2,000/. These establishments had all the avail- able talent in regard to the principals ; while a large portion of the stock actors were the pro- tiges of persons of influence, foisted on the man- agers, without talent or experience. Of course such recommendations were kept in the shade. < Guy Mannering' was produced this year at Covent Garden. The following cast will give some idea of the company : Dominie Sampson, Liston; Henry Bertram, 96 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. Sinclair ; Colonel Mannering, Abbott ; Dandie Dinmont, Emery ; Dirk Hatteraick, Tokeby ; Gil- be rt Glossin, Blanchard ; Baillie Mucklethrift, Simmons. Lucy Bertram, Miss Stephens; Miss Mannering, Miss Matthews; Mrs. M'Candlish, Mrs. Davenport ; Flora, Mrs. Gibbs ; and Meg Merrilies, Mrs. Egerton. If Sir Walter Scott had searched the three king- doms for representatives for this drama, he could not possibly have equalled the Covent Garden com- pany : they were justly formed by nature for the parts assigned to them. Liston, for instance : he was tall a scholar, combining both the humorous .and pathetic. Now the Dominies which I have witnessed were all serious. Those of Dublin and Liverpool were dead failures compared to the great original of London. Liston was pathetic, rich, quaint, self-possessed, and by a look could convulse the house with screams of laughter ; and when he departed from the stage of life, the Dominie died with him. The same may be said of Baillie Nicol Jarvie. Emery made the Liddesdale farmer, Dinmont, entirely his own. Emery, like Liston, possessed those qualities which indicate the first-rate artiste pathos and humour; and never, since Emery's death, has Dandie Dinmont, Tyke, or Giles been brought out in such bold and original relief. MRS. EGERTON'S MEG MERRILIES. 97 Dirk Hatteraick, the bull-headed half Dutch- man^ found in Tokely one formed in person for the task of portraying such a lawless ruffian. Tokely was a broad thick-set man, with a big head and a thick neck : and being a hard actor with a gruff unpleasant voice rendered him the beau-ideal of the daring smuggler. Lucy Bertram, simple and unassuming, was personated by Miss Stephens, now the Countess of Essex. Her singing of ' Kest thee, Babe/ was the most delicious gem in the operatic play; yet the composer Whittaker is never mentioned in these modern times. No, it is all " Bishop, Bishop." But the great star among the females was Mrs. Egerton, in the old gipsy, Meg Merrilies. Never was such a character more truthfully sustained than by Mrs. Egerton in her rendering of this brilliant creation of the Scotch novelist. Meg Merrilies was originally intended for Mrs. Renaud, the once celebrated Mrs. Powell of Drury Lane ; but being now in the sear, she was necessitated to fill the Lady Capulets instead of the Lady Macbeths. But when the Witch of Derncleugh was intrusted to her, she repudiated the idea, and left the theatre and the city for the capital of Scotland, and, strange to say, accepted that role in Edinburgh which she had refused in London, and gained universal approbation ; while 7 98 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. Mrs. Egerton, by her acting and appearance in the old Hag, jumped at once from obscurity to the full blaze of popularity. If 'Guy Mannering' had never been written, Mrs. Egerton would never have been known. She was the old witch in face, figure, and in every movement. Her splen- did voice, when she exclaimed " And Bertram's right and Bertram's might Shall meet on Ellangowan's height," always elicited a burst of universal applause. Mrs. Egerton was quite at home in the part ; there were no strainings after effect, and no twistings or shuf- flings a la Macready; all was easy, calm, and dignified. Although Mrs. Egerton stood amidst such overpowering talent, still she appeared like "a huge rock o'ertopping the waves." This excellent actress was eventually deprived of reason, caused by the sacrifice of those earnings intended for the winter of life, lost in a theatrical speculation. At this period the rivalry between the two great houses ran so high that the management of Covent Garden employed agents to scour the country round in search of a second Kean. At length one was discovered in the person of Booth, who in stature and style of characters and acting resembled that great original. LUCIUS JUXIUS BRUTUS BOOTH. 99 In 1817 a trial was offered to Booth at Covent Garden, where he made his debut in Richard HI. At the end of the tragedy there was a doubt whether it was a success or not; and the manager being out of town, those acting as deputies had no power to treat with the actor. In this dilemma overtures were made to Booth to essay his abilities at Drury Lane in the part of lago. This offer was accepted, and he made his ap- pearance in the tragedy of < Othello' to a densely- filled theatre. Kean was the Moor; but at the com- mencement strangers were in doubt who was Keaii or who was Booth, there was such a similarity be- tween the rivals ; but as the tragedy progressed to the third act, all doubt fled, and Kean displayed such acting as not only electrified the young, but the oldest critics pronounced it beyond all pre- cedent. Booth discovered that he had made a false move in placing himself in collision with the man he imitated, and the day after his trial at old Drury he signed articles to return to Covent Garden for three years. He proved an attraction at the national theatre; and when Lear was revived his perform- ance of the aged king met with universal appro- bation. As a proof that Booth was an actor of unques- tionable talent in 'Lear/ lie had Charles Kemble 100 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. as Edgar, and Macready as Edmund, and still threw both into the shade. At the end of his engagement, finding he was incapable of equalling Kean, he set sail for America. There, in the New World,. he gave a proof of his conception of dramatic matters; for he took a farm and cultivated cabbages, and on the market-night delighted his agricultural friends with Richard or Sir Giles Overreach. Booth had three I was going to say Christian names, Lucius Junius Brutus. But several public characters were christened after the Greek and Roman worthies. There was Horace Walpole, and we have a Horace at the present day Horace Wigan; then the Duke of Wellington's brother-in-law, Sir Hercules Paken- ham, and the gifted Dionysius Lardner and Dion Boucicault, all called after celebrated heathen cha- racters. Many were the rivals brought into the field to annihilate Edmund Kean; but as fast as they came, he sent them withering into obscurity, or, what was almost as contemptible, into a melo- dramatic position. It was a saying in Scotland, at the beginning of this century, that Moss had made more actors than any manager in the profession. There can be no doubt of this; for he had himself been trained by one of the leading men of his day MAYWOOD AS KEAN's RIVAL. 10l Macklin and possessed a cultivated mirTd aiibl keen judgment. At the period that Edmund Kean was under the management of Moss in Dumfries there was another stripling in the same theatre. This was an Edinburgh youth that after- wards gained a reputation in Belfast as Talbot's low comedian, Maywood. In 1817, fired by the success of his fellow-pupil Edmund Kean, Maywood determined to try con- clusions with him, and make the attempt of casting him into the shade. Through the interest of a noble patron in the north of Ireland, Maywood's name was placed on the list of Drury Lane's staff of actors of the premiere class, and selected Shy- lock for his first appearance in the metropolis. Maywood haftng studied in the same school with the great London Shylock, and bearing in mind a vivid recollection of all Moss's points and tremendous bursts of passion, interspersed with pathos of the most effective quality, conceived he stood every chance of a successful result. Here Maywood was not guilty of a false calculation ; for his d&ut in the ' Merchant of Venice' created quite a sensation, and surpassed any that had taken place since Kean burst on the public. Each night that Maywood appeared in Shylock he increased in public favour, and was congratu- lated on all hands as a successful actor. So far so 102 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOK. well ; and if he had selected a second character to back up Shylock, no doubt he would have been re- tained at Drury Lane as a second to Kean. Against the advice of many of his friends, however, he ap- peared in Richard III. ; and although it was not a break-down, yet it did not come up to public expectation. In fact, Kean had done so much with the crook-back tyrant, that it became dan- gerous ground for any other actor to tread on. May wood's delineation of this most arduous cha- racter, particularly in the stirring scenes, met with great applause ; but in the quiet portions of the tragedy the attempt was considered a failure. Still the tragedy was repeated. The third character selected was a most unhappy choice it was a part which John Kemble had made entirely his own Zanga, in the Rev. Dr. Young's tragedy of * The Revenge.' The noble Moor may be called a declamatory role, and Kemble's Roman face, stately person, and majestic tread of the stage, gave him advantages over every other actor in the African prince. Maywood lacked these re- quisites ; and although his splendid voice and dark eye, together with his energy, kept up the interest of the tragedy, yet signs of disapprobation were evident before the fifth act commenced, and at the conclusion an untoward circumstance marred and destroyed all his previous efforts, and entirely THE CROYDON THEATKE. 103 damned his fame. It was this: at that portion where Zanga bestrides the prostrate body of Don Alenzo, Maywood, in stepping across, by some accident fell, and the audience, instead of sym- pathising, burst out into roars of laughter, and the curtain dropt, never to rise again on the un- fortunate actor's histrionic efforts at old Drury. Thus ended all the hopes entertained by poor Maywood. Maywood wisely crossed the Atlantic, and found a home in the New World. In a few years, to the surprise of his friends, he returned to England and made another attempt in London. This was at the Surrey, in Macklin's comedy of ' The Man of the World.' The part selected was Sir Pertinax MacSycophant. Maywood being a Scotchman, and having witnessed George Cooke in the character, gave just grounds for a favourable result. The con- trary, however, was the case. Amid his splendidly- delivered speeches, given with the greatest judg- ment and point, he was frequently interrupted, till at last, goaded beyond endurance, he stopped, ad- dressed the audience in a discourse any thing but complimentary, and left the theatre without finish- ing the classically-written comedy. In the spring of 1817, the Croydon Theatre was opened under the management of Nuna and Eugene McCarthy. The company consisted of Messrs. Ham- 104 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. blin, McCarthy, Fan-ell, Monk, Harrison, W. Wat- kins, Donaldson, Lynch, and Lindsay; Mesdames McCarthy, Nuna, Frankly, Harrison, and Monk. Lindsay, mentioned here, was an Irish comedian, who in his early days was in the army as a doctor; a few years after this, he met with a watery grave in the canal near Dublin. The two London rivals, Edmund Kean and Booth, alternately honoured the good people of Croydon with a display of their talent ; and John Emery, the Garrick of Yorkshire actors, paid a starring visit to this suburban town. He made his appearance in his unrivalled character of Robert Tyke, in Morton's comedy of * The School of Reform.' Emery's delineation of this hardened villain so excited a sailor in the pit, that he made two or three attempts to get on the stage, in order to give Emery what he considered he richly de- served, a good thrashing, but was prevented by his messmates : at that scene in the fourth act, however, where Tyke takes the old man's purse, and dis- covers directly he is his own parent, and delivers the well-known sentence that always electrified the audience "What! rob my own feyther!" the sailor, no longer able to restrain his passion, jumped up and roared out, " Yes, you vagabond, you'd rob a church !" In those days the managers of Oovent Garden JOE GRIMALDI. 105 and Drury always produced with the pantomime at Christmas another treat for the young and old children the questionably moral tragedy of ' George Barnwell.' Two countrymen visited Covent Garden on a boxing-night, for the purpose of seeing Joe Gri- maldi's clown. Having arrived at half-price, and taken their seats in the gallery before George Barnwell was concluded, they conceived it was the pantomime : Charles Kemble as Barnwell, and the stately Murray as Thoroughgood, were engaged in one of the scenes, and eliciting great applause, when one countryman said to the other, " Which is Joey?" The walking gentleman of Drury Lane, Bar- nard, having been lodged in the King's Bench on suspicion of debt, two candidates stood forward for his situation in the theatre ; and these were Tyrone Power and a young tragic hero, Hamblin. Although the salary for the position was only three pounds a- week, and the characters trifling, yet Power was rejected, and Hamblin accepted. This was in 1818. Sixteen years after this, Tyrone commanded at the Haymarket the highest salary ever given to a come- dian ISO/, per week. These are not affairs of dramatic history gathered from hearsay, but facts of which I was cognisant, being a member of a theatre at the time in which Power was the light comedian. 106 RECOLLECTION'S OF AN ACTOK. Jones, the founder of the Surrey Theatre, hav- ing obtained the patronage of Prince Leopold after his marriage with the universally-lamented Princess Charlotte, laid the foundation of a theatre in the New Cut, Lambeth, which was opened on Whit- Monday, 1818. This house was called after his royal highness, the Coburg. The managers were Joseph Glossop, Jones, Dunn, and Serres. The latter manager was marine- painter to his Majesty, and a member of the family that laid claim to the Cumberland title. The com- pany consisted of the following persons : Hamer- ton, Munro, McCarthy, Stebbing, Jew Davis, Davidge, Bryant, Harwood, Gallott, Le Clercq, Donaldson, T. Blanchard, Bradley, T. Hill, Barry- more sen., Norman, Usher, Simpson, Holm an, Ben. Webster, Farebrother, Cartlitch, Stanley, Guy, Honnor, Ashbury, Willis, and Master Wie- land; Mesdames Thompson, Watson, Gallott, Scott, Le Clercq, J. Simpson, Bennett, Dennett, Nicholls, Tose, and Foote; scenic artists, Messrs Clarkson, Stanfield, Morris, and Scruton; leader of band, Erskine. Although this theatre opened with splen- dour, and had the presence and patronage of the Duke and Duchess of Kent, Duke of Cambridge, Duke of Sussex, and Duchess of Wellington, yet a fortune was sunk in it, and the ill-fated house was the means of destroying the prospects of a man COBUEG AND PECKHAM THEATRES. 107 who had done more than any other in improving the taste of the Surrey side of the water, and this was the gifted Thomas Dibdin, who was ruined by the opposition house, celebrated for its blue-flame melodrama. Peckham, in 1818, boasted of a theatre that served occasionally as a nursery for unfledged talent. At this period, the autumn of 1818, a young man made his first appearance there as Captain Au- brey, in the melodrama of 'The Forest of Bondy;' this youth was the present veteran manager of the Haymarket Buckstone. The light comedian and tragedian of this rural theatre was Tyrone Power, whose energies were exercised to make a stand at one of the large houses in the highest roles of the legitimate drama; however, fate ordered it other- wise, for although not an Irishman by birth, he was ordained to achieve a popularity unexampled since the days of Jack Johnstone. I have some authority in speaking of this cele- brated comedian, having represented the following characters with him in Peckham : Old Hardcastle, in ' She stoops to conquer;' Sir Antony Absolute, in 'The Kivals;' Frogrum, in 'The Slave;' Bonus, in 'Laugh when you can;'' Wilford, in 'The Iron Chest;' and Gratiano, in 'The Merchant of Venice.' In January 1819, the Greenwich Theatre was 108 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. opened by Saville Faucit. Here, in this small theatre, Mrs. Faucit, of Covent Garden, appeared, when not engaged in her professional duties at the national house. Not only the highly-talented wife of the manager assisted at the suburban theatre, but many other distinguished artists occasionally lent their services to give (fclat to the sterling tra- gedies and comedies so much relished by the people of an age gone by. A short time before this, * Rob Roy ' was pro- duced at Covent Garden; and as Saville Faucit was attached to that establishment, and personated a character in the Scottish drama, he was fully capable of superintending its production in his own theatre. Individually, I acknowledge the advan- tage I received by his instructions in Baillie Nicol Jarvie, as he vividly laid before me the brilliant and unapproachable delineation of the great original Liston. The characters were filled by the follow- ing performers in the Greenwich Theatre: Rob Roy , . Bonnel Thornton. RashleigJi . . , Barton. Francis . . . Short. Sir F. Vernon , , Lewis. Captain Thornton . Sam Keene. Dougal . . , Joseph Laurence. Galbraith . . . Starmer. Baillie Nicol Jarvie , Donaldson. Helen Macgregor , . Mrs. Faucit. ROB ROY AT GREENWICH. 109 Diana . . , , Mrs. Barnard. Nattle .... Miss Stubbs. Rob Roy's Children , Masters Saville Faucit. One of those babes became popular at the Surrey, and the other child is now the comic old man at the Whitechapel Theatre. The Samuel Keene, in the bill for Captain Thorn- ton, is brother to the editor of the JBath Journal, and has been located many years in New York as a professor of music, and known in that city as Paddy Keene. The original Eob Eoy of Greenwich, Bonnel Thornton, was grandnephew to the translator of 'Plautus,' and connected in literature with the elder Colman. The Kashleigh of Barton deserves notice. This talented tragedian's fame reached the management of Covent Garden in 1820; and such an opinion was entertained of him that he was intrusted with Icilius, in the tragedy of ' Virginius,' then in re- hearsal. This was caused by C. Kemble's ill-health; and fears were entertained that he might be ren- dered incapable of the task, when the night ar- rived, of enacting the youthful Icilius. Unfortu- nately for the actor, this middle-aged but talented tragedian became convalescent, and the juvenile aspirant, with all his youth and fire, missed the 110 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. chance, and had to retire to the provinces. Bar- ton crossed the Atlantic, and became the leading actor at New Orleans. Miss Cushman received her first instructions from this gentlemanly actor; and in the course of years he returned to Europe, and settled down as a professor of elocution at Bristol, where he died in 1848, sincerely lamented. Short, the Francis Osbaldiston at Greenwich, was the original Giovanni at the Surrey; but not long after this, poor Short lost his voice, and re- turned to his native town of Bath, where he died. The Dougal Creature, Joseph Lawrence, was the son of the player of the second fiddle at Astleys r and nephew of Grimaldi, after whom he was called. When I say the Helen Macgregor was Mrs. Faucit, that is sufficient to assure those who have witnessed her splendid abilities, that the character could not fail to satisfy critical judgment. In regard to the Glasgow baillie Nicol Jarvie, there is still living in the Dramatic College a very aged actor, Stormer, who has many a time and oft given a favourable opinion of its delineation. In those primitive days, the actors of the large houses used often to cheer the suburban towns of the metropolis with their talent. Here, in the little theatre at Greenwich, I have acted with Dowton, Gattie, Harley, Emery, Tokely, J. Eussell, Charles MRS. WARNER AT GREENWICH. Ill Connor, Knight, Fitzwilliam, Incledon, Webb; and in this locality Planche, the talented writer, made his debut in a comic sketch, called 'The Actor of all Work,' in which he represented several characters, and gave an imitation of Talma. This literary character had serious thoughts of taking the comic role; but what he witnessed at Greenwich, and at other small theatres, recalled his reason to his distracted brain, and the mania was repudiated. The late Mrs. Warner made her debut, at the age of fourteen, in the Greenwich Theatre on her father's benefit, and recited ' The Battle of Minden. 5 Her father, Huddart, began his career in Dublin, and was the original Holla, while George Frederick Cooke sustained the second-rate part of Pizarro ; Cooke, the master-spirit of his day, playing an in- ferior role to one not his equal in talent. Not only was he obliged to appear as the Spanish leader, but on the production of 'The Castle Spectre' in Dub- lin, he was the aged prisoner Reginald, a character always given to a third-rate actor; yet two years after this, in 1800, Cooke appeared at Covent Gar- den in Richard, and was declared the first trage- dian in the kingdom. Such are the vicissitudes of an actor's life in the provinces, where real merit is generally kept in the background. About this period, in 1819, I made my M)ut 112 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. at the Old Haymarket Theatre, in O'Keefe's beautiful operatic farce of ' The Poor Soldier,' as Dermot; but as it was to oblige a brother actor on his benefit-night, I attempted a part rendered at that time famous by Incledon's execution of ' Sleep on, my Kathleen,' and ' The Brown Jug.' Mordaunt, alias Captain Macnamara, father of Mrs. Nesbit, threw himself annually as a b&itfi- ciaire on the notice of the public at the Haymarket Theatre. On one of those occasions I appeared as Willoughby in Keynolds's excellent comedy of ' The Dramatist.' This respectable comedian, Mordaunt, always commanded an elegant and crowded assemblage in consequence of his family connection. His talent as a light-comedy actor, to judge by his perfor- mance of Vapid, was certainly not equal to that of Elliston's, but still it was above mediocrity; and it was his instruction that formed that accomplished actress, Mrs. Nesbit, and paved the way to that proud position which she attained in the metropolis. CHAPTER V. Reading Circuit Anecdote of Thornton the Manager Stock- ton Emley Weymouth in its palmy days George the Third's nightly Visit to the little Theatre The King's kindly consideration towards a poor Actor Novel way of erecting a Theatre The Nottingham Circuit under Manly and Robertson 'Beggars and Ballad-singers' Salaries in the Nottingham Circuit Wrench Exchange of Lovers Eccentric Conduct of Manly Anecdote of Webb and Davis A Theatrical Challenge An Actor's sense of Honour. THE old managers were celebrated for their wit and humour. Thornton, of the Reading circuit,, was not the least among them : he was an especial favourite with George HI. as an actor. Thornton was particularly happy in getting through a cha- racter without knowing much of the words of the author; but, in consequence of being absent at times, he committed strange blunders in some of his tragic attempts. One night at Gosport, while representing Biron in the tragedy of ' Isabella/ he died without giving the letter which unravels the plot ; and as he lay prostrate in the last scene, one of the performers on the stage whispered to him, " Mr. Thornton, the letter the letter I" Thorn- 8 114 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOE. ton then rose up, took the letter out of his bosom, and said, " One thing I had forgot through a multiplicity of business. Give this letter to my father : it will explain all ;" and lay down again in the arms of death. On Easter Monday 1819 I made my debut at the Stockport Theatre, then under the management of John Stanton, the acknowledged best scenic artist in the provinces. Although capable of taking the first position at either of the metropolitan theatres, he preferred to lord it over the actors in his own establishment. While the war was rife, Stanton, like all the other managers, put money in* his purse ; but when the peace arrived, and the man that took all the powers of Europe to subdue fell to rise no more, Stanton fell also, and an upright and hon- ourable manager was lost to the profession. I met in Stanton's company a truly versatile actor, John Emley, whose farcical attempts would stand the test of a metropolitan audience in these days, and whose vocal ability, either as a tenor or in burlesque, elicited from the judicious the warmest applause ; and to crown all these accom- plishments, he possessed a handsome person, and ability to lead an orchestra. That such a man should not succeed may appear a marvel ; yet he did not, but sank in a few years into perfect obscurity. EMLEY THE COMEDIAN. 115 Success does not always depend on merit. Family connection has more to do with the ad- vancement of the aspirant than absolute talent; for only let one member get on, and the brothers, sisters, and sons are sure to be placed on the list of histrionics in some Theatre Royal. Emley w r as attached totheWhitehaven Theatre while the father of Mrs. Glover Betterton was manager. During a starring engagement of that celebrated actress in this northern locality, Emley's acting attracted her notice, and she undertook to be his advocate with the management of Drury Lane ; but w T hen an engagement was the result of this gifted woman's application, he had steered for another locality, and received the letter too late. During the Knutsford races, a gentleman connected with the House of Commons (Peter Finnerty, mentioned in the ' Life of Curran') who witnessed Emley's performance of Squire Groom, in ' Love a la Mode,' was so struck by his superior talent that, on his arrival in London, he named him to Charles Kemble, and the conse- quence was, the offer of an engagement; but here too Fate worked against him ; and when this second dawn of good fortune burst on him, Emley was prostrate on a bed of sickness. Pierce Egan's celebrated drama of ' Tom and Jerry' was produced at the Queen's Theatre in 116 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. Manchester, in 1822, and by my instrumentality Emley was engaged to personate Jerry, and by his brilliant and vivid delineation of the part became the greatest favourite in the theatre ; so much so that even in these days his memory is rife among the aged. Notwithstanding all his popularity and abilities, he perished in obscurity, surrounded by a numerous family ; proving that something besides genius is necessary to reach eminence. Mrs. Emley, an actress of no mean pretensions, was a daughter of the brilliant author of the comedy of ' Wild Oats/ John O'Keefe, and related by marriage to Mackay, the original Baillie Nicol Jarvie in Edinburgh. The low comedian under Stanton at Stockport -was one Goddard, who in his day was an especial favourite with George III. at Weymouth. In those times the King every summer visited this beautiful watering-place. Nor did his majesty remain in his unpretending house on the esplanade in the cool of the evening. No : he attended, with his retinue, the little theatre, and made himself as much at ease as if seated in the national house of Covent Garden. On one occasion, having to open Parliament, his majesty was preparing for his departure. The very day he was to start was Goddard's benefit, and as the King was a tower of strength on such an oc- GODDARD AND JONES. 117 casion his absence would entail a heavy loss on the unfortunate actor. Goddard screwed up his courage, and at once waited on his majesty. An audience was granted, and when the comedian had stated the purport of his errand, the King, in the kindest manner, told him not to make himself unhappy that he would remain and attend the theatre. This is a well-known fact. His Majesty performed the journey at night, sooner than be the means of inflicting an injury on a poor coun- try actor. Goddard was a native of Birmingham, and began as an amateur actor in the same little theatre with Richard Jones. Each member of this club brought his contribution in kind, in order for the getting up of the theatre one nails, another paper for the scenery. Jones, being the son of a tim- ber-merchant, generally dropped in with a scantling under his arm. So in this humble beginning these young men, Goddard and Richard Jones, started in life with equal requisites for the histrionic art. Goddard kept floundering about from one petty theatre to another; and at last, in 1819, 1 met him aged, broken down, surrounded by a family, and hopeless ; while Jones was the leading comedian of Covent Garden, with a fortune in the funds, and a reputation of the first rank in his line of characters. But then Jones got attached, in his early struggles, to the best theatre out of London ; 118 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOK. and he was wise enough to remain there till the proper time arrived to change, and a fair field lay open for him in the metropolis. It is not talent always that shapes a man's destiny: it is manoeuvring and working not on the stage, but off it. Trickery and bounce have a deal to do in it. Without question Jones de- served his good fortune; and poor Goddard's ill fortune may be ascribed to circumstances over which he had no control. Goddard's Geoffrey Muffincap, in Peake's ex- cellent farce of < Amateurs and Actors/ I have not seen equalled not even by the original at the Lyceum. Such simple characters, it is true, are easy; but in Old Eapid, Sir Abel Handy, and many others in which Munden excelled, I have not met with any actor to be compared to him. The Peace did not bring those blessings so fondly anticipated, and instead of bettering the condition of the working - classes in Lancashire, thousands were thrown out of employment, which brought on absolute insurrection. The drama, of course, suffered, and Stanton became a ruined man. When a manager is about to fail, the actors generally abandon him ; as rats take to the water when a ship is foundering and swim for their lives; so Stanton was left alone in his ruin, and sank to rise no more. Being an honest and straight- MANLY AND ROBERTSON. 119 forward man, he was free from those tricks and artifices to which others too often resort to prop their reeling fortunes. The fate of actors, like statesmen, depends on those in power ; but when the tide turns,, and a reverse comes, then a new scene of action is necessary ; and this scene I found in the neat and compact town of Stamford, under the direction of Manly and Robertson. * Hamlet' was performed on the opening night, in which his majesty of Denmark, Claudius, was sustained by the writer of these Recollections ; while the Prince was repre- sented by a young gentleman, Thomas Serle, since well known in the literary world ; and the Queen by its. Sheppard, aunt of Helen Faucit. Robertson the manager could write a comic song, paint a scene, dance a hornpipe, and do the low comedy. In the latter department he was a prodigious favourite in the Nottingham circuit. This I ascribe to long standing. I have known many comic actors great favourites, having no claim to distinction beyond that of being several years before the public. Robertson's conception of such characters as Acres and Tony Lumkin was de- cidedly wrong. However, on the whole, I consider he was an actor of utility, and might be called a rough diamond. He was the author of a song, 6 Beggars and Ballad - Singers,' that became po- 120 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. pular in London, Dublin, and in every part of the three kingdoms. Jack Bannister, in the beginning of this cen- tury, paid Nottingham a starring visit ; and hav- ing heard Robertson sing ' Beggars and Ballad- Singers/ that celebrated comedian requested a copy, as at this time it was not in type. Robert- son readily obliged him. The following season at Drury Lane Bannister sang Robertson's song ; and what words could describe Jemmy's surprise when he beheld the words and music of ' Beggars and Ballad - Singers' published, and Bannister's name inserted as the author? He could get no redress, although he agitated in the affair. This was almost as bad as George Colman, when manager of the Haymarket, taking out the principal character of a new farce sent for perusal, * Caleb Quotem,' and introducing it into the farce of 'The Review;' and when the author Lee, manager of the Taunton circuit complained of the robbery, Colman had the effrontery to tell him he was a bad writer and a worse friend, not to be grateful for the compliment paid him. Cer- tainly Lee's character, Caleb Quotem, is the wit- tiest in ' The Review.' The London manager, like the London actor, has too often his clique of literary friends to bring him through any difficulty. PARODY ON AN ACTOR'S SONG. 121 Jemmy Robertson's song of < Beggars and Ballad - Singers' is mentioned in the Life of that noble statesman, George Canning. It says: " When George Canning was at college, one of the students, a son of the Dean of Salisbury, was remarkably fat, and Canning parodied ' Beggars and Ballad-Singers' on him : There's a difference to be seen 'Twixt a bishop and a dean, And the reason I'll tell you why A dean cannot dish up A dinner like a bishop, Nor get such a fat sow as I, I, I, Nor get such a fat sow as I. The Original. There's a difference to be seen 'Twixt a beggar and a queen, And the reason I'll tell you why A queen cannot swagger, Nor get drunk like a beggar, Nor be half so happy as I, I, I, Nor be half so happy as I. Robertson retired from the theatre, and opened a shop in Nottingham, where he sold all sorts of articles, and placed over his door the following legend in large letters, " Every thing made here except a fortune." Manly continued the management on his own account, and made a rule never to engage married or old people. This was politic, as the walking in 122 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. this circuit (I kept an account of it) in one year amounted to 500 miles. Coaching in those clays was 110 trifling matter, and salaries being on the lowest scale, actors were obliged to walk. There was one aged man in the company, Earle, and he had been a member forty-four years. He was originally a barber, and cut the hair for the "stage," thinking it was more aristocratic. By great parsimony he saved a sum of money, which he deposited in a banker's hands in Stamford. The Peace came, and the banker broke, and Earle' s savings were lost ; yet still he kept up his spirits, and walked his journeys; but this task he executed alone, as company was likely to drift into expense : all actors, he well knew, in their journeys through life, lived well on the road. Certainly the means afforded by the manager did not allow of much indulgence either in eating or drinking. The salaries were 11. Is. weekly, and for this miserable stipend the actor had to find boots, shoes, buckles, silk stockings, hats, feathers, swords, canes, wigs, modern dress, long hose, gloves, military costume ; and those that unfortu- nately possessed vocal ability, were obliged to fur- nish the part of their songs for the orchestra ; and all these articles out of a guinea a week ! The actor that could sing was ever in request for glees, choruses, and even compelled to sing * THE CASTLE OF ANDALUSIA.' 123 the songs of other characters, when certain per- formers were incompetent. At Nottingham, for instance, O'Keefe's opera of ' The Castle of Anda- lusia' was performed. The writer of this repre- sented Spado ; and as the captain of the banditti, Don Caesar, was not blessed with vocal power, had to sing his songs of < Flow, thou regal purple stream/ and < The Wolf.' Have such services ever been beneficial? Quite the contrary. The actor that is useful is always considered a hack, and treated accordingly. 1 have named 'The Castle of Andalusia.' I give every praise to the manager of the Haymarket for the revival of this beautiful opera. It is a proof he has seen and heard something. Such music in these days would be truly refreshing in our operas. If those who have questioned his judgment in bringing out this splendidly-written work of O'Keefe's had been in existence half a century back, they might have been in the same position in regard to judgment as Mr. Buckstone. There is an idea among some modern writers that the, dramatic literary characters of the last age should be for ever consigned to the tomb of the Capulets; but we have numerous enlightened characters that hold a contrary opinion, and well know when the judgment's weak, the prejudice is strong. When the comedies or operas of the days 124 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. of Goldsmith or Sheridan are brought forward, their effects on the audience fully testify their sterling and legitimate worth. But the rage for French dramas, ill-adapted and ill-rendered, has got so much in vogue, that the writings of Sheri- dan, Colman, O'Keefe, the elder Morton, and Holcroft, are considered " stale, flat, and unprofit- able." So much for modern taste. Wrench, the original in several characters at the Adelphi, began his career at Nottingham. So awkward and spiritless was this comedian, that the general remark was, he must have been mad to think of the stage ; yet this actor became a popular man at the Adelphi Theatre and at the Lyceum. At the period of Wrench's probation at Not- tingham, a Mrs. Taylor, an actress of talent, had a share in the management, and Manly and Wrench paid their addresses to her and Miss Taylor, her daughter. Manly was the adorer of the mother, and Wrench of the young lady. What then was the astonishment of every one to find an exchange of sweethearts take place, Manly marrying the daugh- ter, and Wrench the mother ! The latter union was not a blissful one. Manly's Shylock was certainly the very best I have seen, with the exception of Kean's. The tremendous scene with Tubal was beyond all conception. It was the opinion of several judges, particu- MANLY AND HIS FAMILY. 125 larly Henry Johnston and William Blanchard, that Manly' s Major O'Flaherty was a more bril- liant piece of acting than that of Jack Johnstone's. I considered that myself; but Manly repudiated all that eternal twisting about on the stage, grinning and bustle, which London comedians resort to, in order to make the points, as they call them, when at the same time they render themselves ridiculous in the eyes of persons of discrimination. Manly, well knowing his drawbacks for a London audience, wisely determined to remain in his own charming money-getting circuit, where he contrived to fill his own purse, quite regardless of those w r ho laboured in his vineyard. Yet with all his screwing propensities, he had good qualities. He paid what he agreed for; he instructed the young actor in his profession, and where there was any dawning of genius, he encouraged it. No man on the stage understood the mysteries of the art better than Thomas Wilson Manly. That he was a dramatic despot, there is no denying, and a terror to those novices whom agents sent to fill the positions of experienced actors his hard bar- gains, as he called them. Although a splendid actor himself, he studiously kept his children from the stage. One he articled to a lawyer, and ano- ther to a doctor. His daughters he trained for first- class governesses. And well knowing the estima- 126 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. tion the dramatic profession is unjustly held in by a section of society not celebrated for sense, judg- ment, or liberality, he determined his offspring should steer clear down the stream of life unruffled by the quicksands of bigotry and malice and all un charitableness . In this course of proceeding his well-wishers saw wisdom and forethought, and commended the sagacious manager ; but who can control fate, and divert man from his destiny? No one. Manly's son, the young doctor, threw physic to the dogs, and rushed on the stage; the other repudiated Coke and Blackstone for Shakespeare and Sheri- dan ; and one of his daughters, that he had de- signed for an earl or viscount, united her fate with an actor. These galling disappointments worked on a high and ambitious spirit, and in time undermined a well-knit frame and physical power of no common order, and brought him with sorrow to the grave. "When the Nottingham circuit lost the pilotage of the man who had guided it for so many years with success, it fell, and became disjointed, and split into sections. In Manly's day the towns were often cheered by the talent of such stars as Miss O'Neill, Edmund Kean, Braham, Dowton, Munden, Emery, William Blanchard, Macready, 0. Kemble, and J. Brutus IGNORANCE OF POPULAR STARS. 127 Booth. I have performed with nearly the whole of those stars in Nottingham. No twinkling of provincial celebrity such as we have glittering about as stars in these clays were then tolerated in the humblest provincial locality. It must be a Kean or nothing. Even such an accomplished tragedian as Charles Young failed in Southampton to at- tract an audience. The London stars who visited Nottingham Manly generally invited to his table, not through a spirit of hospitality, but through a spirit of con- tention, to see if they were really as great in con- versational powers as they were on the stage. He has declared many a time that he was thunder- struck with surprise to find they were so little acquainted with historical affairs, either of the ancient or modern times. Nothing but the theatre and acting were in their mouths, nor could he lead them into any other subject. Manly himself was educated in an eminent degree, and possessed a knowledge of state affairs superior to any manager I have met with. I thought at the time he was the very man to take the helm in a land like America, where boldness, determination, and a broad and expansive intellect lead to great results. He certainly was in too circumscribed a sphere of action, directing a small and trifling affair like a provincial theatre. 128 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. Braham paid a starring visit to Nottingham, and was announced for his original character in 1 The Devil's Bridge/ Count Belino. In the course of the rehearsal of the music, he sent for the manager, and told him "he could not sing with the orchestra; that it was execrable." "Exe- crable !" exclaimed Manly. " Sir, it is universally admired, and considered first-rate." " No matter," replied Braham; "I shall have a piano on the stage, and accompany my own songs." This Braham actually did, and he was perfectly right, for Manly was not blessed with an ear for music, and to him good or bad fiddling was equally agree- able. During Braham' s engagement another London star appeared, rather premature and before required. This was Lucius Junius Brutus Booth. An action- at-law was the result of this engagement, and Booth was non-suited. For he, although the son of a lawyer, and initiated into the mysteries of the legal profession, was not a match for the sagacious manager. In the dramatic art it is possible for a novice to jump at once into a distinguished position, with- out going through the drudgery of provincial theatres, where the actor is ill paid and hard worked. Webb, called Paddy Webb, the Irish comedian and melodist, was one of those fortunate men who realised a fortune and gained a name by WEBB THE BOROUGH HATTER. 129 one step from a hatter's shop in the Borough to the stage of Co vent Garden. This was on the occasion of John Emery's benefit. His singing of Whitaker's splendid song of 'Paddy Care/ enabled Webb to throw himself on the notice of provincial managers as a star ; and by pursuing a steady course of action, and making Jack John- stone his model, he saved enough to retire upon. Webb's voice was harsh, but being a timist, and having a falsetto and shake, proved powerfully im- pressive with those who did not comprehend sing- ing. The shake he always introduced at the end of every Irish melody. As a hatter in the Borough, he felt he was ordained for something, and cut the shop and " free-and-easies," which he constantly attended, for the sock and buskin. In one week, in Nottingham, Webb netted 130/. It was not by his acting, which was mechanical and decidedly bad, but by his singing. His songs were new, and arranged by those composers the late talented John Blewitt and \Vhitaker ; and as the vocalist claimed them as his own property, he reserved to himself the right of publishing, consequently no other per- former had a chance of opposing the original in these splendid melodies. However, by the kind- ness of the leader of the orchestra in Nottingham, I obtained the parts of five songs that gained the plaudits of some distinguished cities, not only in 9 130 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. England, but in such localities as Paris, Brussels, Rome, Naples, Malta, and Gibraltar. Many have appeared before the public as Irish comedians with no other requisite than the brogue, when at the same time they were deficient in the most essential quality to portray a son of the Emerald Isle humour. The actor who in his vigour was quite at home in the walking gentleman or in the heavies, can never possibly give vitality to a national character, notorious as the most joy- ous and original in the universe, " a real and un- sophisticated Irishman." America has sent some actors to these shores, in order to raise a laugh, or set the theatre in a roar, at Irish blunders ; but though the acting made the unskilful laugh, yet the judicious grieved to wit- ness such futile attempts, devoid of both brogue and humour. A kindly and talented leader in a country theatre has it in his power to assist the vocalist in an eminent degree. William Davies, of the Not- tingham Theatre, was one of those musicians, ever prone to oblige, and during Webb's engagement paid marked attention to the Irish comedian; on the departure of this star, however, the leader met with a very indifferent return. On taking leave of the actors, and of Davies in particular, Webb shook him cordially by the A SINGER'S GENEROSITY. 131 hand, and placed in it something wrapt up in a bit of paper, saying : " Farewell, dear sir ; I shall ever remember your attention to me, and in that bit of paper yon will find something to drink my health adieu." On the exit of Webb, Davies began undoing the papers in which the coin was enclosed, expect- ing every second to come to the sovereign. But what words can paint his dismay and surprise, when he beheld a bright new shilling ! Directly on the discovery he roared out to stop the liberal donor ; but the bird had flown ; and the enraged musician looked pretty much like the man who restored a popular comedian a lost trunk, that five pounds reward had been offered for, but instead of which met with a recompense of two shillings. "What is this?" exclaimed the man; "Sir, you said you would give five pounds reward." " Five pounds," roared out the son of Momus ; " why, every thing in it arn't worth five shillings." During the palmy days of the drama in Li- verpool, when such men as Vandenhoff, Cooper, David Rees, James Browne, and Bass (not the brewer), were the exponents of the histrionic art, a London comedian made his appearance in one of his popular characters. In the course of the performance, this said comedian grossly insulted Tom Power, a young 132 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. actor of versatility both as a vocalist and harle- quin. When Power retired to his lodgings, he penned a challenge to the haughty London luminary, and demanded satisfaction for his insulted honour ; for, although moving in a humble sphere, he was the son of an Irish gentleman, and felt the indignity cast on him as keenly as if he had filled the proud- est position in the theatre. The London star, on reading this discontented letter, immediately hastened to a gentleman of eminence in Liverpool, and asked his advice in the affair. This gentleman said : " My dear sir, you must meet him ; as a man of honour and a gentleman, you cannot refuse to give him satisfaction." " Fiddlesticks ! and don't talk to me about honour and gentleman," exclaimed the comedian ; " my father was only a tailor !" " No matter what your father was," replied the gentleman ; " you are one of the first in your pro- fession, and cannot decline the meeting." "Nonsense," answered the star; "only think of the difference of our positions. I am a man of wealth courted and looked up to ; while this poor wretch has not a sixpence to call his own. A ballet through his stupid head would relieve him from all his miseries ; while in me it would entail A THEATRICAL CHALLENGE. 133 an irreparable loss to the drama and to society in general." "But, then, your honour" urged the gentle- man. "Stuff!" exclaimed the comedian. "My dear sir, will you go to this fellow and offer an apo- logy?" In this manner the affair was amicably settled, and the insulted actor was invited to a supper at an adjacent tavern to the Theatre Royal, in Wil- liamson's Square ; the repast provided for the oc- casion consisting of two Welsh-rabbits and a quart of ale. Power, in 1822, related this circumstance to me in Liverpool. CHAPTER VI. Liverpool -Dramatic privileges forty years ago Banks and Lewis Fatal Duel between Booth and Diavolo Antonio the Slack-wire Dancer Lewis's munificent Gift to the Nation Mrs. Glover's Hamlet Southampton under Max- field Kelly and Collins Sheridan Knowles Mr. and Mrs. West Maria, Ellen, and Ann Tree Fawcett and Banister The Young Roscius Incledon's Farewell at Southamp- ton: his meanness and vanity Memoir of Dowton; his Ad- dress on Incledon's Retirement Braham Liston Fawcett Manchester Elton Stanfield Memoir of David Rees, IN the present age, lawyers are resorted to in order to define what is dramatic and what is not dramatic, as in the case of "The Alhambra and the theatres." Forty years ago, the managers who held patents settled these sort of things re- markably easy. In those days, no publican could fit up a stage, with or without scenery, under any pretence whatsoever. Consequently the rights of the drama were not encroached on; and, as in Paris at the present time, dancing and singing could only be practised on a stage within the walls of a regular theatre, licensed by the authorities. Having performed under the direction of the managers of the Theatre Royal, Liverpool, Messrs. THE LIVERPOOL MANAGERS. 135 Banks and Lewis, I am cognisant of the working of the old system, when patents were respected. It is true, patents were a monopoly ; but it was a monopoly in a good cause, as it preserved the legi- timate drama in all its bearings. Now, in regard to Liverpool, no proprietor of a booth, no equestrian troupe could enter the town ; and as this restriction was the means of keeping public attention on the Theatre Koyal, the legiti- mate and classic works of the stage were year after year presented by an efficient and educated set of artists, more likely to elevate and advance society than the light and trifling performances of the present day, that may be regarded more in the light of amusements than carrying out Shakespeare's idea of "holding the mirror up to Nature." The managers of Liverpool Banks and Lewis were men of note in society; the former had been for years a respected tragedian, and the latter son of the never-equalled comedian, Lewis of Covent Garden. Those men legislated in Liver- pool for the legitimate and illegitimate drama. In the summer the Theatre Royal was the temple for tragedy and comedy, and in the winter the Olympic Theatre in Christian Street was the arena for eques- trian exercises, melodramas, ballets, and panto- mimes. In this amphitheatre, in 1820, I made 136 KECOLLECTIOXS OF AN ACTOR. my bow as a vocalist, and gained some popularity by Blewitt's splendid melody of < Katty O'Lyncli.' Here I met with two Italian ladies the Mademoi- selle Ferzis celebrated on the rope not in the Blondin style ; those aerial flights were never then attempted, save and except by the famous Madame Saqui. Diavolo Antonio, a Portuguese slack-wire per- former, was much noticed in Liverpool, both in his public capacity and in private circles. This gentle- manly man fell in a duel with Lucius Junius Brutus Booth.* Tight-rope dancing was in great vogue in those days, and had the preference to the desperate and fatal ascents so attractive in these times. The daughters of Usher the clown danced on the double rope, and were universally admired for their elegance; and Wilson, another artiste sur la corde, met with general applause. Although Liverpool at that day could not boast of half the population of the present time, yet the pure and legitimate drama flourished. But when the door of the temple of the immortal bard was left open, and one adventurer after another rushed into the town, the Theatre Royal the scene of the triumphs of the Kembles, Keans, O'Neills, and * This was the father of the late notorious John Wilkes Booth, the assassin of President Lincoln. MKS. GLOVER AS HAMLET. 137 Vanclenlioffs was totally neglected, and extrava- ganza became the rage. A futile attempt in the way of opposition, made by an old servant, induced the respective managers. Banks and Lewis, to give up the Olympic Theatre; and finally they retired from the town altogether, tired and disgusted with the ingratitude of those whose tastes they had fostered and encouraged. Lewis called "Dandy" Lewis died some time ago, after his withdrawal from management, and left 15,000/. to the National Gallery, on con- dition that Sir Thomas Lawrence's portrait of his father as the Marquis in the petite comedy of ' The Midnight Hour' should be hung up among the other pictures. The breaking-up of the establishment in Chris- tian Street was keenly felt by all who came under the management of such characters as Banks and Lewis ; and no one parted from those honourable and respected men with greater regret than the writer of these Recollections. On my arrival in London, in June 1822, I was enlisted to fill a role in the tragedy of ' Hamlet' at the Lyceum Theatre. Mrs. Glover assumed the part of the Prince of Denmark, and announced this extraordinary attempt as an attraction on her benefit-night. This highly-gifted actress was not disappointed, 138 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. for the theatre was filled in every part. Her noble figure, handsome and expressive face, rich and powerful voice, all contributed to rivet the atten- tion of the elite assembled on this occasion ; while continued bursts of applause greeted her finished elocution as she delivered the soliloquies so well known to her delighted auditors. In the stage- box were seated Edmund Kean, Michael Kelly, Munden, and the Honourable Douglas Kinnaird. At the end of the first act Kean came behind the scenes and shook Mrs. Glover, not by one, but by both hands, and exclaimed, " Excellent ! excellent!" The splendid actress, smiling, cried, " Away, you flatterer ! you come in mockery to scorn and scoff at our solemnity !" Mrs. Glover was the daughter of an accomplished actor Betterton who sustained a superior line of characters at the Dublin Theatre and at Covent Garden ; and Miss Betterton's mind was not left in fallow to pick up her education behind the scenes; but received in early life what all actresses should receive a liberal edu- cation. Betterton entered into management in his native country, Ireland, and also conducted several theatres in the north of England. His son John Betterton was a good actor and dancer, but had an impediment in his speech. At night on the stage it did not affect his delivery ; AXECDOTE OF A STAMMERER. 139 while in common conversation he stuttered abom- inably. While Betterton was travelling in a stage-coach with some gentlemen the conversation turned on stammering and the difficulty in curing it. One said, " There is a person in London (Mr. Bonham) who professes to do away with it." " That/' cried another, " is an impossibility ; so he must be an im- postor."' Betterton, roused to anger, exclaimed, "I-I-I know th-th-that gen-tle-man ; he-he-he is no im-p-p-postor ; it was un-un-der him I-I wa- wa-was cured.'' In June 1822 I made my first appearance at the Theatre Royal Southampton, under the manage- ment of Messrs. Maxfield, Kelly, and Collins. This beautiful town, with its romantic neigh- bourhood, was a fashionable watering-place long before the erection of its splendid docks, con- structed at a cost of nearly a million sterling. At this period His Royal Highness the Duke of Sussex paid a visit to Southampton, in order to preside at the installation of Sir Win. de Crespigny, Bart., M.P. for the town. All the Masonic brethren of the county assembled, and a play was patronised by the highly-gifted and liberal-minded Prince, Grand-Master of England. The pieces were ' Guy Mannering' and Moncrieffe's excellent new farce of < The Spectre Bridegroom.' 140 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. Mrs. Win. West of Drury Lane was the Meg Merrilies, and Wm. West of the Haymarket repre- sented Dickoiy in the new farce of ' The Spectre Bridegroom;' while Squire Auldwinkle gave the anthor of this work an opportunity very rare in those days of appearing before Royalty. The Duke of Sussex was truly a dramatic cha- racter, like his august father, and at the end of the performance despatched Sir Wm. de Crespigny behind the scenes to express to the performers his approbation of the entertainments in general. In 1822 Sheridan Knowles's tragedy of Vir- ginius' was produced here for the first time, for the purpose of bringing Macready forward in his original character ; and it met with great success. This tragedian performed six nights, and on his benefit, after ' Damon and Pythias,' he ap- peared as Delaval in Kenny's petite comedy of ' Matrimony.' It was reported, previous to Macready' s visit to Southampton, that he was repulsive and disagree- able; but having played O'Clogherty with him in * Matrimony,' I found him truly facile and pleasant. Actors of ability who are anxious about the profession, and will take the trouble to direct re- hearsals, are sure to displease some one. This season Maria Tree made her first appear- ance at Southampton in the opera of ' Clari, or the FAWCETT AND THE MISSES TREE. 141 Maid of Milan;' a ballet originally at the Academic Royale, Paris, but transformed into an opera by Howard Payne, which, like others, he called his own. Ninette, in ' Clari,' a small character, was performed by Ellen Tree. This was her first ap- pearance on any stage ; the Vespina was played by Anne Tree, mother of the Miss Chapmans. On Maria Tree's benefit the farce of 'The Rendezvous' was performed. Maria was cast for Sophia ; Ellen Tree for Lucretia ; and Anne Tree for Susan. In 1823 Fawcett was engaged for a few nights, and made his debut in Job Thornbury, his original part in < John Bull,' and Caleb Quotem in the ' Re- view,' when I had the honour of representing Dennis Brulgruddery and Looney MacTwolter. It may truly be called an honour to appear with such an actor as Fawcett, for he stood quite alone in his original characters ; and as a singer, never has any vocalist equalled him in the mock bravura of the Italian singer ' What's a woman like?' 'The Almanack-maker,' and Caleb Quotem. Fawcett was not a tol-de-rol singer or actor; his Captain Copp, Lingo, Rolando, Touchstone, and Sir John FalstafF, were unrivalled in his day ; of course I cannot say any thing respecting the present period, as such characters are not often brought forward. Fawcett retired in his latter days to the village 142 RECOLLECTIONS OF AX ACTOR. of Botley, near Southampton, celebrated for its dulness, and as once being the residence of Wil- liam Cobbett. I certainly cannot fall in with the idea of an actor so lively as Fawcett was to retire and end his days in solitude. Such localities may do for hermits, but are not in accordance with such merry souls as players. For myself, I should prefer the deli- cious spots about Drury Lane to the glen of the Downs or the Vale of Avoca, in the county in Ireland most celebrated for its romantic scenery Wicklow. Fawcett and Bannister were the great come- dians of London, and were, of course, great rivals. When Fawcett made such an impression in the broken-hearted brazier Job Thornbury, Bannister at the Haymarket appeared in the same character, and met with but a poor reception. The morning after the performance a friend called on Bannister, and the conversation turned, of course, on Job Thornbury. This gentleman observed : " The people considered, that^ in ap- pearance and face, you are inferior to Fawcett." " Why, yes/' cries Jack, putting his hand to his chin, " Fawcett has the face of a brazier." In those days, when London could boast of such dramatic talent, it was truly exhilarating to come in collision with the Fawcetts, Bannisters, MASTER BETTY, THE YOUNG ROSCIUS. 143 Dowtons, and Listens men gifted with such powers that they absolutely threw all the provincial aspirants into the shade. Those actors who had a just estimate of their own abilities kept their positions, thus displaying sense in the highest degree; while those who permitted themselves to be led away by flattering friends entered the lists of the metropolis against most extraordinary talent, and egregiously failed. I could name se- veral whose premature end was hastened by their rashness in rushing before a London audience, but ill adapted for the onerous task attempted. Mr. Henry West Betty once the celebrated young Roscius paid a starring visit to South- ampton, and performed Charles in the play of 6 The Royal Oak,' and displayed all the fire of his youth in this well-written historical drama by Dimond. His other characters were the Earl of Warwick and Achmet in 4 Barbarossa ;' and in each of which he elicited the most rapturous applause. Perhaps in the kingdom there is not a more discriminating audience than that of Southampton. I have heard Edmund Kean say that his points were as well taken in Southampton as they were in London. In 1824 Incledon took his farewell of the stage at the Southampton Theatre. The bill announced : " Charles Incledon, styled by 144 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. George III. the British National Singer, is en- gaged for this evening only, and will sing four of his most celebrated songs. In 1784 Incledon made his first appearance on the stage in this town, and the plaudits which he received led the way to the metropolis, where he maintained a reputation never equalled by any vocalist in former years." The songs which he sang on this occasion were, ' Black-eyed Susan,' ' Trim-built Wherry,' 'The Storm,' 'Sally in our Alley,' and 'Admi- ral Benbow.' The house was full, and, what appeared grateful to the heart of the veteran, the boxes were filled with the rank and fashion of the town. At the conclusion of the performance Incledon delivered the following address : "Ladies and gentlemen, I return my most grateful thanks for this last mark of your esteem. This glorious assemblage will be dear to my heart as long as life remains. This is the ground from which I made the start forty years ago, and the fostering smiles and cheering plaudits of this re- fined and elegant town proved a passport to the metropolis of my native country. In the proud capital I was hailed with enthusiasm, and the Sovereign pronounced me the British National Singer. Every one present may not know what a national singer means. A national singer ANECDOTES OF INCLEDON. 145 is a mon* that can sing in every nation. I retire from public life with the consolation to my feelings that I never neglected my duty to my patrons. During my long career I have reared and educated a large family that are a blessing to me. In this arduous task I have been assisted by my darling wives I have had three : the first was the sainted Jane ; the second the angel Mary ; and the third still living is the divine Martha. Now, ladies and gentlemen, the time has arrived to bid you farewell. Painful as it is, I am grieved to say it ; but I pronounce the word wishing you and yours health, prosperity, and many happy days farewell." Incledon was an original and a general fa- vourite among his brother actors. He was ever ready with a witty expression, and was rarely indeed seen out of humour. The elder Mathews gave a first-rate imitation of Incledon ; and although the great mimic's face was totally unlike the national singer's, yet it was difficult to tell, when seen together, which was Incledon and which was Mathews. In 1812 they travelled through Ireland with a * Incledon always called man " mon." He was peculiar in the delivery of language, and, like Braham, indistinct and hurried ; but in singing, every word was enunciated so clearly that he made the dullest comprehend his ballads. Mrs. Sid- dons said Stevens was a fine piece of acting. 10 146 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. joint entertainment. At one of those performances I was present, and witnessed Mathews' s imitation of Incledon, which elicited screams of laughter and applause ; and Incledon himself, who was present, was the loudest in his hilarity. Edmund Kean's imitation of Incledon was splendid. If Mathews surpassed Kean in por- traying the great national singer's face, the modern Roscius gave the melodies of Incledon as close and as delicious as Charles himself. Kean's voice was of a sweet quality, and when he represented Tom Tug at Drury Lane, in 1818, and sang ' The trim-built wherry,' he astonished and electrified the house. There was another celebrated imitator of Incledon James Russell, the comedian, of both Covent Garden and the Haymarket. Russell was the best singer of all the comedians, and was the person that originally sang the old Irish ballad, 4 Rory O'More,' arranged by Sam Lover ; and this composition has beeji erroneously ascribed to that versatile genius. In 1811 Mathews, while in Dublin, imitated Incledon in Captain Macheath. At this time the bold outlaw was not dressed in the costume of the opera. Incledon dressed the Captain in frock- coat, buckskin breeches, top-boots, coloured vest, and several yards of cambric round his neck. This IMITATOES OF INCLEDOX. 147 costume gave a better idea of the character than that of the days of Jack Sheppard ; but the dress in the condemned cell, worn fifty years ago, was out of all character black coat, breeches, black stockings, pumps, white necktie, and large opera- or cocked-hat. It was in this dress that Mathews appeared on the Crow Street stage ; and although he was much taller than Incledon, the whole house were astonished at the likeness as Matthews walked forward with the great hat on his head and his bow-legs in imitation of the renowned singer's limbs. Many versions have been published respecting Incledon's early days, but the account which I shall give may be relied on as authentic. I had- it from one of the managers of Southampton Maxfield who was a native of the same town where Incledon was born Callinton, on the bor- ders of Cornwall, and celebrated for its manganese. Incledon was the son of humble parents, and was admitted, at the age of fourteen, as a singing boy in Exeter Cathedral. Here he remained two years, and received tuition from Jackson the com- poser. At the age of sixteen he entered on board a man-of-war at Plymouth, and sailed up the Medi- terranean, where his ship was engaged in an action with the enemv. 148 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. In 1784 his ship was paid off at Chatham, and young Incledon then thought of his home, and commenced his journey for his native Devon. On reaching Hitchen Ferry, near Southampton, fortunately he was penniless, and had to remain sometime till a Samaritan approached in the shape of a recruiting serjeant with his aspirants for military renown. The serjeant soon franked the young sailor across, and on entering the town, the party ad- journed to a public-house in French Street, where they sat down and made themselves merry over some Salisbury ale. The song and toast went round, and in his turn the young sailor sang a ballad. There happened to be seated in the chim- ney-corner, smoking his pipe, the prompter of the theatre. Ere Incledon had finished his song, the prompter hastened to Collins, the manager. Col- lins, who had always an eye to business, veiy soon returned with his prompter, and on the repetition of Incledon' s vocal powers, an engagement at half- a-guinea a-week was offered and accepted; and Incledon made his debut at the age of eighteen, 1784, in the Theatre of Southampton. The wife of one of the managers, Mrs. Kilby, was a Miss Collins, and sung a duet with him on his first ap- pearance ; and this lady was in the Southampton MEMOIR OF THE GREAT SIXGER. 149 Theatre, in 1824, when Incledon made his final bow on his retirement into private life. Incledon's probation in Hampshire was only a few months, when he entered into a larger field for his extraordinary powers. This was Bath. Eauzzini, an Italian master of repute, was the leading musician of this fashionable locality, and he it was that refined and improved the young sailor boy, who on bursting on a metropolitan public at Covent Garden, entirely eclipsed every singer Italians and all at that time before the public. Never was such a voice heard before ; and never has such a voice been heard since. While his powers remained, he kept his posi- tion at Covent Garden, but the moment that age and infirmity crept on him, the management most ungratefully dismissed the man who had spent his vigour in their service. So stung were the Lon- don actors at this treatment, that they rallied round their favourite, took the Opera House, and got up a benefit before he crossed the broad ocean to try his fortune among his transatlantic brethren in the West, in 1817. Dowton, Incledon's firm and attached friend, delivered the following address on that occasion, in his usual brilliant style : " The tuneful favourite of your youthful days, Rear'd by your smiles and nurtured by your praise, 150 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOB. Whom you proclaimed from competition free, Unrivalled in his native minstrelsy Now forced, alas ! to foreign climes to roam, And seek beyond the Atlantic wastes a home, Ere yet to England's shores he bids adieu, Pours forth one parting grateful strain to you. Oh ! let the men who with him trod the stage, Who mark'd the promise of his earlier age, Who saw with joy his talents ripen bloom, Who hail'd his promise and now mourn his doom, Shed for such talents lost, the pitying tear, While yet you may behold him here Here, where the friends who view'd his youthful power. Now meet to consecrate his farewell hour Here, where the plaudits he has heard so long, Now for the last time cheer ' the child of song ;' No actors here as actors now attend, Eutfrie?ids assembled to support a friend. Those friends would waft above one fervent prayer, One anxious wish for him who claims their care. May he, in lands where British accents sound, Experience what he has felt on British ground ; While to his ear their language they impart, Oh ! may they speak your language to his heart : May all the social joys which here exist, Tliere wait upon the Wandering Melodist !" In 1824, Dowton paid a visit to Southampton, and made his debut in his unrivalled character of Dr. Cantwell, in BickerstafPs comedy of 'The Hypocrite.' The delineation of this part was con- sidered by profound judges the most perfect piece of acting in comedy ever witnessed. Yet Dowton DR. CANTWELL. 151 was not a lucky star, like his great rival Joey Munden, who in his starring tours travelled with some wretched trash of a farce, dished up for the simpletons, and a couple of new songs hi the tol- cle-rol style, that were sure to please the million and get the money. What was the result of this wise proceeding? Why, that Munden died a wealthy man, while Dowton, superior in under- standing and genius, died not worth a groat. I have had the honour of representing the splendidly-drawn role of Mawworm with Dowton, and can speak artistically of his superiority over every other actor that has attempted this chef- d'oeuvre of Bickerstaff. Dowton's face, manner, and delivery were so truly in keeping with nature, that an auditor could hardly imagine he was look- ing on any but the thing itself, so wonderfully Dowton conceived and executed this most difficult character. Daring his stay in Southampton, he played Sir Antony Absolute, Sir Peter Teazle, Sir David Dunder, and Sir John Falstaff in ' Henry the Fourth.' It has ever been said that the deline- ation of the Fat Knight is a sure test of an actor's talent. Since the days of Henderson, the ma- nager Maxfield, who had seen that great man, declared he had never witnessed any one that in the slightest degree approached Dowton in Sir John. 152 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOK. In 1825, Charles Young, William Farren, Ed- mund Kean, Listen, and Braham appeared at Southampton and Portsmouth. Such stars in these primitive days enlightened the dull monotony of a provincial circuit, and often tended to drive the aspirant away to another quarter in hopes of bet- tering his fortune ; but very often a change is not for the better. Managers are frequently the means of driving an established favourite from a circle of friends who have gathered round him. This line of con- duct generally proceeds from " envy by the gods !" In this manner the managers of Southampton, Portsmouth, Winchester changed and changed, and when they were blessed with talent, they did not appreciate it, but were content to jog on any how, and never considered that those towns were in- creasing in population, in knowledge, in every thing ; and that the establishment that satisfied in the days of George III. was not calculated for the times of William IV. ; the natural consequence of such proceeding was bankruptcy and ruin; the property got into the clutches of the law, and the managers fell from their high estate down to a very low estate. In the summer of 1825, I made my first ap- pearance at the Queen's Theatre, Manchester, under the management of the elder Nadin, ex- SAD FATE OF ELTON AND BYWATEK. 153 bailiff of the town. Montague Corri acted as stage-manager and musical director, and Elton was the principal in tragedy. Elton met with a similar fate to Tyrone Power, near Holy Island, in his passage from Leith to London, and left a numerous family to mourn his loss ; and James Bywater, a vocalist of extraordi- nary power, of the Queen's Theatre, in the prime of life, sunk into an early grave in consequence of the upsetting of a boat at North Shields. The scenic artist of the Manchester Theatre, Stanfield not the great painter of that name, but his brother displayed abilities in the art of no common order. This young man, according to the opinion of several of judgment, bid fair to rival his brother, but it was ordered otherwise. A few years brought his earthly career to a close. It may appear singular, but during my peregrina- tions, I have come in contact with the two Stan- fields, Grieve, Telbin, and Beverley, before they reached their metropolitan position. J. F. Smith, son of the Norwich manager, made his debut in Manchester, with considerable success. Since that time he has wisely abandoned acting, and devoted his attention to literature. This is the popular author of ' Woman and her Master.' The principal comedian at the Manchester 154 RECOLLECTIONS OF AX ACTOR. Theatre Royal at this period was David Eees. This actor not only sustained Listen's line of cha- racters, but, after Dowton, was the best Justice Woodcock^ Old Hardcastle, and Sir Antony Absolute on the stage. In consequence of a misunderstanding, he left the Manchester and Liverpool circuit, and crossed the Atlantic in the hope of bettering his fortune in the New World. His debut in New York was successful, even beyond his expectations, as he some years after- wards acquainted me. In a few nights he became quite the rage, and a brilliant career was about to dawn on him, which was entirely crushed, as a casualty which befel the unfortunate comedian maimed him for life. One day, quite buoyant in spirits, he engaged a horse of first quality, and mounted in order to proceed up the Broadway ; but it appeared the way was too narrow for this fiery charger, for he ran against a house and was killed, while poor Eees fell to the ground and lay insensible with both legs broken. For six months he was prostrate by this serious accident in a strange land. How many similar accidents have occurred from the same cause ! Horses are very knowing, and are very tenacious in respect to the rider. If he is an amateur, his fate is certain, and a broken leg or a broken neck may be anticipated. CAREER OF DAVID REES. 155 At length Rees returned to England, and met with such medical skill at the Shampooing Baths in Brighton, that he was enabled to cast aside his crutches and hobble about with other invalids. Mr. Calcraft, the manager of the Theatre Royal, Dub- lin, offered him an engagement, and Rees made his debut in Sir Peter Teazle, lame as he was, and became the greatest favourite in the theatre. In 1840, he appeared at the Haymarket, in 'Paul Pry,' with complete success. The papers all declared it was the nearest approach to Liston possible; nay, the Liverpool, Manchester, and Dublin people went so far as to say " he surpassed the original." At the end of three years' engage- ment he returned to the country which he loved, and was doomed never to leave it more, for he was seized with a fit of apoplexy in Cork, and thus the stage lost the only successor to Farren and Liston. Rees was one of my oldest and most valued friends. I had known and enjoyed his friendship for twenty- four years in Lewes, Eastbourne, Liverpool, Dub- lin, and in London. At the time that Rees left Manchester, he left a gap which the managers found it difficult to fill up. They looked about in vain for a successor. Frederick Fromow, of the Nottingham Thea- tre, conceived he was capable of entering the lists, and accordingly was engaged as the successor of 156 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. Davy Rees. Alas ! Fromow for I knew him well was the antipodes to Rees in person and acting. Fromow had a meagre attenuated figure, with a thin face and a thinner voice ; while Rees was fat, jolly, and plump, with a broad face and broader voice, and blessed with a chuckle that always set the theatre in a roar. Then too Fro- mow was always accustomed to theatres not the calibre of Manchester or Liverpool ; and acting in a small house and in a large one is quite a dif- ferent thing. Fromow made his debut in Manchester, in ' Baillie Nicol Jarvie/ and most egregiously failed. This had such an effect on him that he retired to Sunderland and died of a broken heart. Fromow was a versatile actor. I have seen him play Lear with great judgment, but nature had deprived him of the physique for such an ar- duous character; then his Lord Ogleby a role beyond comic old men in general I have not seen any one but William Farren that surpassed him. Fromow was not devoid of vocal powers, and I say his Don Giovanni was above mediocrity ; so I think the Manchester people were premature in their decision. An actor has many trials and many vicissitudes to undergo; and for one who spends a youth of labour with an age of ease and DEBUT OF FROMOW AT MANCHESTER. 157 comfort, twenty sink into an early grave, or into what is worse, insignificance and contempt. During my second season in Manchester, the elder Nadin, a gentleman who had an esteem for me, made a proposal which, if accepted, a fortune was to be realised in ten years. This was to aban- don the stage, and be installed in a public-house in Deansgate well frequented, well situated, and well stocked in every particular. This was de- clined, as I have ever observed the fatal results of actors casting aside the sock and buskin for the spigot, and eternal temptations attending on such a position. No ; I was determined to tempt my fate a little longer and make a soar to the Far West across the Atlantic ; a country which I was often assured was the land for a vocalist, and the repre- sentation of those characters of Ireland that de- mand humour and spirit ; in fact, that demand an actor. Amherst's grand melodrama of ' The Burning of Moscow' was performed in Manchester forty nights; a great run in those days. An attempt at a longer period would have been detrimental to the best interests of the theatre, being an absolute liberty, and an attempt at playing on the feelings of the public, which liberty the public ought al- ways to resist. CHAPTER VII. Bristol* Mother Goose' Bradbury the Clown Liston Sun- derland- Stephen Kemble The original Jeni Baggs Kayner -The African Roscius* Hamlet and Othello's dress in Garrick's time Newcastle Sam Butler Kean as Harlequin in 'Mother Goose' Windsor Theatre Benjamin Webster as the Low Comedian M. Laurent, Director of the Italian Opera Speculation of the English Dramatic Company in Paris List of the Company engaged, with the Salaries given Miss Smithson Terry, Abbot, Miss Foote, Bond, Charles Mason, &c. Italian Opera at Paris Malibran Kossini Balfe The Claqueurs of the French Theatre Michael Kelly The French Stage in 1828 Re- flections on Edmund Kean's acting of Richard, Othello, Shylock, and Macbeth Honours paid to Charles Kean Presentation of Plate. AFTER two seasons spent pleasantly among a people that ever cheered and encouraged my efforts, I bade adieu to the great commercial town, and in 1826 entered another the city of Bristol where I made my debut with the elder Mathews in Moncrieff 's farce of * Monsieur Ton- son.' This establishment was under the manage- ment of Macready, father to the tragedian. ^MOTHER GOOSE' AT BRISTOL. 159 Here, after many roving years, I met Ellar, the Kean of all the Harlequins, whose agile deli- neation of the motley hero I have never seen equalled. In 1809 Bradbury produced at the Crow Street Theatre, Dublin, the pantomime of < Mother Goose.' Ellar was the Harlequin ; Pantaloon, John Byrne ; Clown, Bradbury ; and Columbine, Miss Giroux. Strange at this period (1826), Miss Giroux an aged and stout lady in conjunction with her sister, presided over the Terpsichorean art in both Bath and Bristol. In 1809, as a boy of fifteen, I was engaged in the pantomime of ' Mother Goose,' in Dublin, with Ellar; and delighted was he to meet so old an acquaintance as I, in order to talk over old times. Ellar told me that Bradbury picked him up in his native town of Manchester, poor and friendless; and, finding he had the necessary talent, he took him on speculation to the capital of Ireland. The manager, Frederick Jones, at first declined their services. The Cramptons, brothers one Sir Philip, surgeon -general the great friends of Jones, were the persons that got Bradbury and Ellar engaged. These Cramptons were the beau-ideal of Irish gentlemen. They stood six feet one inch, and were built in proportion. Jones was not much less ; and 160 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. another great companion, Captain O'Reilly, stood six feet two inches in height. ' Mother Goose' was brought out in great splendour. Tom Cooke arranged the music and overture. Never before or since has a pantomime been so remunerative. Bradbury gained as much attention in the streets, as he drove along in his tandem, as he did on the stage. He was called the Brummel of all the clowns. The receipts of his benefit were 5 GO/.; Ellar's were 430Z. Bradbury commenced life in his native town, Manchester, as a carpenter, got engaged at the theatre as a scene-shifter with Riley, the author of ' The Itinerant.' A clown falling sick during the run of the pantomime brought the young car- penter forward, and Bradbury very soon appeared before a London audience at the Surrey, and became the great buffo after Grimaldi. Bradbury is mentioned in ' The Life of Gri- maldi.' It says : " He was engaged at the Wells to fill Joey's place in the pantomime during his absence in the country on a trial." In the interim Bradbury so gained on the good folks of Clerken- well, that when the renowned Joey returned, the managers told him it would be a dangerous expe- riment to make any change, and thought it would be as well to let Bradbury finish the season. " Then," exclaimed Grimaldi, " I'm ruined !" BKADBUKY THE CLOWN. 161 Here is a proof that one clown was as good as another, when the great man said he was ruined. That such a calamity should not occur, the man- agers told Joey that they would get rid of Brad- bury by giving a benefit. This salvo was suffi- cient, and Grimaldi appeared as Clown in the second act of the pantomime, while Bradbury was the primo buffo in the first act, Grimaldi says that Bradbury got hooted from the stage for something gross which he had intro- duced. It must have been gross indeed to disgust at that period. Grimaldi himself was not parti- cular to a shade. Besides, we must not place too much faith in respect to what one clown says of another in the same line. In those fine old days of clowning, the panto- mime did not rest on the transformation-scene, but on the wit, humour, and acting of the clown, irre- spective of gorgeous scenery, gas, and glitter. Bradbury-, at one period of his life, went out of his senses, and, of all things, held forth as a preacher. His sermons must have been sorry discourses indeed ; but when he recovered his reason he returned to his profession. His latter days were not very brilliant, having, like Brummel, expended his fortune on tailors. Indeed, to so poor a position did this once dashing clown fall, that Ducrow buried him in 1834, in 11 162 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. London, and followed with his establishment to the grave the man that had often set the theatre in a roar. In 1826 Liston paid a visit to Bristol, and made his appearance in the new comedy of < Paul Pry.' This celebrated actor, when he entered the green-room of the Bristol Theatre, did not walk solemnly in, buried within himself; but entering with a cheerful smile, looked at the actors to see if there were any whom he had met with before ; then on recognising an old acquaintance, he would grasp his hand most cordially, and express his pleasure in meeting with him. Indeed Liston resembled Napoleon in recollecting names. ? Tis said the emperor knew the name of every soldier in his army, and it was not a small one. But what I have stated of Liston I have experienced. While attached to the Portsmouth and South- ampton Theatres, I had personated the Steward in the farce of ' Fish out of Water ;' and as the cha- racter was of vast importance to the great comedian, my attention in being perfect in the words enlisted his sympathy in my favour, and he requested of the manager at Bristol to set me down in the cast for the Steward. I have mentioned this circum- stance, as it led to the only chance I ever had in my life of being placed on the list of performers at the Hay market Theatre, in 1828. AXECDOTE OF LISTON AXD THE AUTHOR. 163 Listen undertook to be my advocate with the London manager, and he kept his word, for he was a gentleman by birth and education. The offer which Morris made would have placed me among the underlings; and as I had endured one season at a London theatre, I was determined never to enter another, unless for a recognised line of characters. This I now admit was wrong. Entering a theatre like the Haymarket, under the auspices of the greatest comedian of the day, must have led to promotion. We see these impolitic acts of our early days when too late to remedy them. Li 1827 I was enrolled as a member of the Sunderland circuit, which had for its directress Mrs. Stephen Kemble ; her nephew, John Bland, acting as stage-manager. This worthy man after- wards married the daughter of Mrs. Glover. Mrs. Kemble, now in the sear, was in her youthful days celebrated for her exquisite acting of Ophelia, and was the original Yarico at the Haymarket. Here I met with the original ' Wandering Minstrel/ Jem Baggs, Mitchell. The farce was first brought out under the management of the late stipendiary magistrate, Mr. A'Becket, at the Fitzroy Theatre, in 1833. Many may not understand where tliis theatre is or was located. It is .near Tottenham Court Road, and has been variously designated as 164 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. the Tottenham Street, or West-London Theatre, the Queen's, and now lately has been named the Prince of Wales' s Theatre. I have seen many attempt Jem Baggs since, but never witnessed any one who could come up to Mitchell. He made some noise in the part, par- ticularly with the clarionet. Mitchell went to America, and opened a small theatre in New York, and died in the bosom of management. Telbin, the scene-painter, began his career in the Sunderland Theatre as call-boy. His father acted as prompter, and for a man in that position, was pleasant. Prompters are not always so. Telbin the elder was an author, and wrote two dramas, 'The Siege of Scarboro' Castle/ and ' Jemmy Allen, the Northumberland Piper.' This character, that really had a local habita- tion and a name, enlisted and deserted. In former years this was rather serious. The renowned piper was caught, and sentenced to be shot. The last scene represented all the preparations for carry- ing out the denouement of Allen's career. Telbin re- presented the commander, and the part of an Irish Serjeant, sustained by the writer of this, had to enter to the colonel respecting the last wish of the unfortunate piper. "Well, Serjeant," says the colonel, " what does Allen desire T The author's THE WANDERING MINSTREL. 165 words were, "to be allowed to play the 'Dead March' on the pipes to the place of execution;" instead of which I took an unwarrantable liberty with the author, who was face to face, and said: " He -wishes to be allowed to dig his own grave." The author burst into a convulsive fit of laughter; the audience caught the mania, and the solemnity of the scene w r as perverted and destroyed. During the period I remained in this circuit, the following stars visited us : Charles Kemble, brother-in-law to Mrs. S. Kemble, Miss Foote, Kayner, and the African Eoscius. At that time he was known as Keene ; now he is celebrated as Ira Aldridge, and may be called, not an African star, but the Great Bear, as he has wandered into Russia ; a land but few ever think of visiting, par- ticularly in the winter. The African Roscius was noted for his perform- ance of Mungo, in Dibdin's operatic farce of the ' Padlock ;' and as he was desirous to bring it for- ward in Sunderland, he found an obstacle, as the first singer By water had just died, and there was no Leander. In this dilemma, I was requested by the sable Roscius to personate the youthful lover. This was declined, as Mungo was my character, according to terms of engagement. However, in the end I yielded, as I never stood in the way of 166 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. business, but indeed made it my study to assist a brother performer. Rayner was Emery's successor at Covent Gar- den, but no more to be compared to the inimitable John Emery than I to Hercules. Yet Rayner was a favourite, and realised a deal of money in the North; but keeping company with jockey lords, he was cleared out of all his hard-earned cash, and reduced to nothing. Stephen Kemble, who died in Durham, con- ducted the Sunderland circuit for years, and was also manager of the Glasgow Theatre. His Fal- staff was an attraction ; for this gross character he could act without stuffing. There were others too he appeared in, such as Othello and Hamlet. An engraving is still in existence of Stephen Kemble in the Prince of Denmark, in an old- fashioned black coat, breeches, vest, shoes, buckles, and a large flowing auburn wig. I am not in pos- session of his costume for Othello, but should imagine from this, that he dressed the noble Moor much as Garrick was in the habit of doing ; coat, breeches, and a white judge's wig. He selected white, as it matched his complexion. What ideas they had of costume in those days! In 18 1, in Scotland, I have seen Macbeth dressed in a red officer's coat, sash, blue pants, Hessian boots, and a cocked-hat I STEPHEN KEMBLE AS OTHELLO. 167 Stephen Kemble personated Othello one night in the Glasgow Theatre, and a circumstance oc- curred in the last scene which turned the tragedy into a comedy. When the bed of Desdemona was arranged, the property-man, or person who pro- vides all utensils for breakfasts, dinners, &c., being a new hand, and in eager anxiety to have every thing right and proper, fit for a chambre accouche, placed something under the bed which is always dispensed with. The curtain drew up, and Kemble entered, speaking the soliloquy, " My soul, it is the cause, it is the cause !" A tittering took place, and then a laugh. Stephen Kemble stopped, looked round, and perceived the cause of all the hilarity, then rushed off the stage, seized the unlucky property man by the neck as he would lago, and roared out, " Villain ! villain !" The terrified wretch cried, " Oh, sir, pardon me. I assure you I couldn't get the loan of a white one any- where." In 1827, the Newcastle Theatre was under the management of Nicholson. The leading performers were Samuel and George Butler, Gill, and Miss Cleaver. Samuel Butler I had known in the Not- tingham Theatre as an actor, and in Northallerton and Bipon as a manager, and in both capacities he gained the esteem of all who were acquainted with him. He has been long since gathered unto his 168 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. fathers, and the stage has lost a sterling tragedian.. While Charles Kemble was manager of Covent Garden Theatre, Butler made his debut in Hamlet, and the whole of the press declared it a complete success. He repeated the character ; but his third appearance was not so fortunate, when he at- tempted a part entirely out of his style, Mark Antony. This character had been always filled by Charles Kemble when a performer, but now being manager he assumed the lead, and placed his own name in the bills for Brutus, the very character, according to the impression made in Hamlet, which ought to have been allotted to But- ler ; consequently this splendid actor sank, and was compelled to degrade his histrionic powers in a melodrama called ' The Black Diamond.' Butler sprang from a theatrical family: his father, mother, sister, brother, and grandfather, were all performers. Jefferson, the grandfather by the mother's side, was a tragedian at Drury Lane with Garrick. Samuel Butler's father con- ducted the Northallerton, Eipon, Harrogate, and Richmond circuit for many years, with such suc- cess that he was always ready on the Saturday to meet his performers with their salaries, which were not very heavy 15s. a- week being the average ; it was in fact a standing rule never to exceed that sum. No matter what talent an ANECDOTE OF KEAN AND SAM BUTLER. 169 actor possessed, lie must fall into the ranks like a common soldier, and be content with the common lot, Edmund Kean in 1805, at the age of seven- teen, was a member of this company, and did the walking gentlemen, harlequin, and comic singing for 15^. a-week. This was after his engagement at Dumfries with Moss. In 1821 Kean paid a starring visit to North- allerton for a few nights. Being a small theatre, the prices were doubled. The day after the first performance Sam Butler waited on Kean with 40Z. half of the receipts. When the manager was shown into the star's room at the hotel, he placed on the table the money, and handed Kean the paper with an account of cash taken at the door. Kean looked at it, and said, pointing to the money : " Put that in your pocket." Butler stared. Kean continued : " In this very town, when as a stripling your father assisted me in accomplishing a journey to London, on parting I told him if ever Fortune should smile on me, that I would not forget him. Fortune has smiled on me, and I am proud of paying to the son the debt so many years due to the father. Put up the money, and now we shall proceed according to the terms of engagement." 170 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. This circumstance is an absolute fact, for I performed at Nortliallerton at the time. When the pantomime of ' Mother Goose' was first performed here, Kean was the Harlequin, and Samuel Butler represented the Goose, and for many years was called by the boys in the street, " Goose goose !" However, when he grew up to manhood it would have been a dangerous epithet to apply to him ; for he stood six feet in his stocking-feet, and possessed manly courage to resent any insult. In this charming money-getting circuit the Tayleurs and Meadowses were reared. The elder Meadows declared : " After being attached to Theatres Eoyal in his time, he never knew what real happiness was till he came to this circuit." After the death of the elder Butler, the circuit became disjointed and the company disorganised ; but fortunately a lady of rank at Eipon Miss Lawrence, one of the De Grey family took what remained of the establishment under her pro- tection, and settled on each performer twenty- five guineas a-year. Such liberality to actors is without parallel. Those persons were, Mrs. Butler and her daughter Mrs. Percy, Martin (prompter) and wife, Jefferson (Butler's uncle), and old George. This latter member of the company had been in it fifty years, and lodged with Kean in his SUDDEX DEATH OF SAM BUTLER. 171 juvenile days of adversity. Edmund did not forget his old companion in his last visit. After Sam Butler left Oovent Garden he became a great favourite at the Surrey, particu- larly in Hamlet, Macbeth, and Coriolanus. The comedy of ' The School of Reform,' writ- ten by the Morton, was produced, in which Butler performed Robert Tyke. His delineation of this most difficult character was hailed with acclama- tions, and acknowledged to stand second only to Emery's powerful portraiture. Butler, like the great original, was both bold and comic: hence the difficulty of procuring a comedian that pos- sesses both qualities. Now Rayner's Tyke was all force, without that ease and softness which Emery threw into it. Butler produced a powerful sensation in Man- chester, and after his engagement at the theatre was induced to give Shakespearian readings. On his way to the rooms he dropped down in the streets, and was carried home a stiffened corpse. The whole town paid every mark of respect to Ins widow, and made her a benefit which has never been exceeded even in that mart of commerce. In the summer of 1827 I made my debut at the Theatre Royal, Windsor, in Gaspar, in < The Foundling of the Forest,' and Polyglot, in 'The Scape-Goat.' Samuel Penley, of Drury 172 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. Lane, and author of the farce of ' The Sleeping Draught/ was the manager; leading actor, R. Younge, of Drury Lane ; light comedian, S. Pen- ley ; second ditto, M. Penley ; walking gentleman, Booth not Junius Brutus; low comedian, Ben- jamin Webster ; prompter, Turnoiu* ; vocalist, Homcastle; juvenile, John "Webster; comic old man, Donaldson ; property man and clown, Hogg not the Ettrick ; eccentric low comedian, Bur- ton. This actor afterwards sailed to America, and some time ago died in New York worth 100,000 dollars. This money was not realised by acting : but obtained by management. As an actor he might have remained all his days in England, and stolen at last poor and obscurely to his grave. In former years America presented to the dis- carded actor a rich and fertile field, for there the taste for the legitimate drama was in the ascend- ant ; but now the taste has degenerated, if we may judge of the following article, copied from a New York paper (' The World') : " The drinking saloons exhibit gross and vul- gar performances on their stages from night to mid- night ; and the visitor may get comfortably drunk in his seat, if he desires. There are attendant Hebes too, in the shape of pretty waiters ; girls who will bring him chalices of any variety of drink. Thus he may booze in peace, have his intellect AMERICAN DRINKING-SALOOXS. 173 improved, his taste chastened, and his spiritual faculties exalted by Ethiopic colloquy, noisy vocal and instrumental strains, pantomimic mummery, mysterious disappearances, sudden tricks, rope- swinging, miserable dancing and more miserable singing, hash -trash, and every sort of buffoon- ery, in order to attract the silly and weak- minded. "We think that the interests of the community demand of the legislature the immediate extinction of all such places of resort. They disgrace the city, as they disgrace our civilisation; they are contaminating our youth, accelerating the depra- vity of those not altogether depraved, and sowing broadcast the seeds of social degeneracy and de- cadence. " Such shameless appeals as they daily make through the columns of 'The Herald' the only sheet vile enough to lend itself to such uses would not be tolerated for a day in the most disso- lute city in Europe. " The absorption of the public mind in the civil war has allowed these evils to flourish for a season ; but the time will come to demand their removal, under the penalty of such punishment as shall deter a repetition of such degrading exhi- bitions." So much for New York and the state of her 174 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. amusements. It is to be hoped a reform will soon take place, and a just sense of propriety and decency supersede the evils complained of. M. Laurent, director of the Italian Opera in Paris this summer (1827), conceived the idea of blending English theatricals with Italian, and alternately introducing Shakespeare and Rossini at the Favart Theatre. Laurent's long inter- course with the Messrs. Galignani gave him some knowledge of the English and their language ; and having at his disposal an elegant theatre, with its staff of servants, the enterprise presented every prospect of success. Abbott, of Covent Garden, and Broad, were engaged as stage-manager and prompter ; in fact, Broad was treasurer, stage- director, and every thing where real judgment was necessary. This talented man was the architect who built the St. James's Theatre and other structures, and in the end got into the trammels of the law ; and although he had right on his side he was necessitated to seek an asylum across the Atlantic, where he succumbed to the pangs of disappointment. M. Laurent, although a Frenchman, spoke English fluently with a trifling accent. For years he had been connected with the Messrs. Galignani, and consequently had daily intercourse with the English. Laurent, being perfectly aware of the ACTORS 5 SALARIES IN PARIS. 175 cause why English theatricals never succeeded on the Continent, determined to act diametrically op- posite to the dishonourable adventurers who had rushed over with the exodus in 1815, and rushed back again, leaving their dupes in a fix how they might tread the shores of Albion once more. Laurent promised salaries from twenty -four napoleons a -week down- to three; and not only such liberal terms did he offer, but he engaged to pay eighty francs to each performer for travelling expenses to and fro. The journey from London to Paris occupied four or five days, at that time, at a cost of 4/. ; now it is accomplished in eleven hours, at the charge of \l. Is. Miss Smithson, from Drury Lane, had twenty-four napoleons per week; Abbott twenty; eight, six, four, and three were the salaries of the rest of the company. Sheridan's splendid comedy of ' The Rivals' was fixed on for the opening of the campaign ; and in order that a good impression should be made, the first of English comedians Liston was engaged for Acres. If Liston had been stu- dying to select a part to insure a failure, perhaps he could not have chosen one more likely to bring about such a result. Acres required an actor such as Jack Bannister, sprightly and dashing. Now Liston's style was the contrary, and the dashing Bob Acres was a disappointment. The audience 17-6 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOK. never laughed ; indeed how could they ? for there was nothing to laugh at. The manager proposed another trial : but Liston. was indignant ; he felt the slight, and considered it national, and meant to have it brought before the house not the parliament- but the play-house and de- nounced in Drury Lane green-room the French as "a set of jackasses." It was first intended to engage Dowton and Liston together, and bring out 'The Hypocrite.' Had this been wisely done had Dowton appeared as Dr. Cantwell and Liston as Mawworm the French would have witnessed two of the greatest pieces of acting in comedy ever attempted on the stage. But this wise determination was abandoned, and the fate of the English drama hung now on an actress that for six years at Drury Lane was kept entirely in the back-ground ; and this was Miss Smithson, who was brought from Ireland with the hope that she would prove a second Miss O'Neill. Alas ! they might as well have hoped for a second Kean. Yet Miss Smithson was superior to the position in which she was placed at Old Drury. She was neither more nor less than the " walking lady." But when she appeared in Paris she was found to possess qualities that are seldom visible in the walking lady : she had fire, a splen- did voice, a tall and noble person ; and after MISS SMITHSON'S JANE SIIOKE. 177 Liston's failure Miss Smithson's Jane Shore was a success and ran twenty-five nights, putting more money into the manager's pocket than Kean, Mac- ready, Miss Foote, or Charles Kemble. 'Jane Shore' was followed by ' Romeo and Juliet.' Miss Smithson's Juliet was equally as attractive, for she became quite the rage with the Parisians. Charles the Tenth or Charles Dix then reigned, and although he never visited a theatre, still the Duchess of Berri and the rest of the royal family frequently attended the Favart Theatre to witness the English performances. These distinguished personages used often to jostle against the actors behind the scenes on their way to the royal box. Theatrical wandering stars were not so numer- ous as in the present day. The absolute London stamp was necessary to enable the star to pass current, and this must be affixed at either Covent Garden or Drury Lane. Of course such a system as starring is not the mode in Paris. It is true the French had heard of such names as Kemble, Siddons, Jordan, O'Neill, and Kean. All others, however, were unknown to French fame. Daniel Terry, who before the days of William Farren was the Sir Peter Teazle at Covent Garden, paid a visit to Paris pour plaisir. Being an old associate of the stage-manager's 12 178 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOE. (Abbott), it was arranged over their wine that the * Merchant of Venice' should be brought forward ; and in Shylock Terry determined to try his powers before a Parisian audience. The announcement of this play of the immortal Bard's brought a good house, and Terry's recep- tion was truly flattering; but his conception of the Jew was quite the opposite of Edmund Kean's. It was a growling, grinning, snarling old man, who excited tittering from the beginning to the end of the play. A similar exhibition took place at Drury Lane Kean's first season in London when Dowton on his benefit-night attempted Shylock. It is generally admitted that Shylock is the most diffi- cult part in the drama, and to find a finished por- traiture of this character is a treat only once in a century to be expected. Had Terry made his first appearance in Sir Peter Teazle, he would have done very well, and met with general approbation. Yet the ' School for Scandal' was performed only one night in Paris, and went off coldly. The brilliant writing and spark- ling wit of this the best of all modern comedies was not understood by the French. The lan- guage of Sheridan requires an intelligent audience of English spectators, perfectly alive to the text, before they can relish those profound flashes of wit CAST OF THE ' SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL.' 179 the wonder of his age. The characters in Paris were filled by the following actors : Sir Peter Teazle . . Chippendale, sen. Sir Oliver Surface . . Younger. Sir Benjamin Baclilrite . Charles Hill. Crabtree .... Stephen Bennett. Charles Surface . . Abbott. Joseph Surface . . . Charles Kemble Mason. Careless , . Hemming. Rowley .... Burke. Moses .... Donaldson. Sir Toby Bumper . . Dale. Trip John Lee. Lady Teazle . . . Miss Smithson. Mrs. Candour . . . Miss Pelham.* Lady Sncenvcll . . . "Mrs. Broad. Maria .... Miss Macallen. Even with such a cast as the above, the ' School for Scandal' was not attractive. The management were advised to stick to tragedy ; and on this hint they acted and brought out ' Hamlet' for the pur- pose of introducing Charles Kemble in the Prince of Denmark. An elegant and fashionable audi- ence assembled, and Kemble's delineation of this the most sublime of Shakespeare's works elicited the warmest applause. * This young lady had talent, and it was rumoured was one of the Newcastle family. She assumed the name certainly, but this is common even in the present day; we have a Miss Palmerston and Miss Disraeli. 180 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. In Hamlet he could not soar to such flights of genius as Charles Young ; yet, in the quiet por- tions of the character, he maintained the polished dignity of the prince and scholar, and never lost sight of either throughout the acting of the tra- gedy. Miss Foote* succeeded Kemble, and made her appearance in Lady Teazle, and Variella in the farce of the ' Weathercock.' In this latter piece Miss Foote sung 'Buy a broom,' dressed in cha- racter, and met with an encore. But the great sensational character in this well-written farce, was Stephen Bennett's Briefwit, a lawyer who only troubles his client with the monosyllable "good." This word the French perfectly understood, and it became a byeword in Paris. Bennett played the part well. This actor was the smallest comedian on the stage, and possessed originality and judg- ment. He made his debut at the Haymarket, in Peter Simpson, in Poole's petite comedy of ' Simp- son and Co.', and was declared quite equal to the original, Terry. He was not so fortunate in his 1 second character, Dr. Pangloss, in Coleman's co- medy of the 'Heir at Law.' This was one of Fawcett's great efforts, and as Bennett's powers w T ere absolutely trifling to the herculean comedian, * This celebrated actress is in no way related to any of the Footes on the stage at the present day. OPERA COMIQUE. 181 of course his attempt could not bear comparison, and lie failed. As long as our legitimate comedies and farces were the rage, great must have been the powers of the comedian who entered the field against Liston, Mathews, Fawcett, Bannister, Munden, Dowton, Emery, Jack Johnstone, William Blan- chard, William Farreiy Elliston, and Richard Jones ; artists all original and all unapproachable. Yet I have known actors, scarcely up to me- diocrity, labour under the delusion that they were the equal of some of the inimitable characters named; but when an attempt in the metropolis was made, they were restored to a dim conscious- ness of the true standard of their ability, and fell to soar no more. When Dowton left Drury Lane, in 1818, two comedians were tried to fill his place, and both egregiously failed; and at Covent Garden, the cold reception of a provincial actor in Sir Antony Absolute produced in the aspirant madness. I am enabled to give something of the inner life of the Italian opera in Paris, as the English theatricals were under the same management, and exhibited in the same theatre, the Favart, now the Opera Comique. This season (1828) was big with interest, for M. Laurent could boast of three most extraordinary diameters in his establishment. 182 KECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. The first was the greatest composer of the age, Rosini ; the second, Madame Malibran, the greatest vocalist and actress of any age ; and the third, the composer of the ' Bohemian Girl/ Balfe, an opera that has not only gained immortal renown in Eng- land, bnt in continental capitals, has met with the universal approbation of the judicious. Balfe, in 1828, was a baritone, and made his debut in Figaro. Bardogni, the instructor of Ade- laide Kemble, was the Almaviva, and Malibran the Rosina. Malibran at this time was scarcely twenty-one, in the bloom of womanhood, and her debut eclipsed all the vocalists who had preceded her for years. Her Desdemona, Romeo, and brilliant portraiture of Julietta, electrified her audiences and nightly crammed the Opera-house to repletion. We have had the Catalinis and the Pastas, renowned for the majestic walks of the Italian school, but I be- lieve Malibran was the only one whose person and powers were adapted either for the sublimity of opera, or for those gay and buoyant parts, such as Juliet and Rosina. Sixteen years after this I stood over her grave in Lacken Cemetery, Brussels, where her remains repose under a magnificent mausoleum; and as she was borne to her last resting-place, she was followed by thousands who mourned the departure ANECDOTE OF MICHAEL KELLY. 183 of the fair cantatrice from a city that appreciated such extraordinary gifts. The Italian Opera in Paris had another prima donna besides Malibran. This was Signora Pissi- roni, supposed to be the most scientific singer in Europe; but unfortunately she was elderly and rather ugly, two unpardonable faults in a woman. Signor Zuchelli, the rich and powerful bari- tone of the Italian Theatre, was universally ad- mired in Paris, and having received a tempting offer from London, he crossed the Channel and made his debut at Her Majesty's. Michael Kelly was stage-manager at this time, and on the Signer's introduction behind the scenes to the facetious Michael for the first time, the stage-manager stared at the Italian vocalist and exclaimed, "I think we have met before; pray, were you ever in Wine Tavern Street, Dublin ?" " Rather," cried the Signor. " And I think," con- tinued Kelly, "we are schoolfellows and name- sakes ; and instead of Signor Zuchelli, you are my ould friend Teddy Kelly, of the Cross Poddle." The Signor acknowledged the soft impeach- ment, and cordially embraced his warm-hearted countryman. Sheridan Knowles's play of ' William Tell' was produced with considerable effect in Paris. Wil- liam Tell, Macready ; Michael, Abbott ; Milthal, 184 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. Chapman ; Albert, Master John Webster ; Gesler and Seneschal, Messrs. Dale and Chippendale; Emma, Miss Smithson. The historian who visits Paris and wanders from the gardens of the Tuileries to the Place Louis XV. cannot avoid reflecting on the scenes which have occurred on this spot. Cold and cal- lous must that heart be that ponders on the fate of the most lovely of women, Marie Antoinette, and does not denounce her murderers as " fiends in human shape." Edmund Burke imagined " thou- sands of swords would have leaped from their scabbards in her defence." No sex, 110 age or condition were respected by those monsters. The sacred temples of religion were transformed to other rites, and even the Calendar (1792) was altered to please the sanguinary despots. Those who peruse the history of the Revolution, may be gratified with the names which the months received at that period : AUTUMNAL MONTHS. Vendemiaire . . * September. Brumaire . . October. Frimaire .... November. WINTER MONTHS. Nivose .... December. Plumose .... January. Ventose .... February. NAPOLEON THE EMBODIMENT OF OKDEE. 185 SPRING MONTHS. Germinal .... March. Floreal .... April. Prairlal .... May. SUMMER MONTHS. Messidor .... June. TJicnmdor .... July. Fntctidor .... August. At the restoration of order by Napoleon the old names of the months came into use again, and the sacred temples were opened for the purposes of religion. But the great and most durable benefit which Napoleon conferred on the people, was his "Code of just laws." This sub-lieutenant, who made emperors fly before him, reigned at one period over ninety- eight millions of souls, and in his progresses, " Vive rEmpereur!" was shouted in eight languages French, Italian, Swiss, German, Spanish, Portu- guese, Belgian, and Dutch. Napoleon has been condemned for introducing a military system in his dominions ; yet the system works well in many instances, particularly in the Freres or National Schools. As the sentinel must mount guard, no matter what domestic affliction he may suffer, so must the schoolmaster be at his post at nine in the morning, should his home be a scene of mourning. The claqueurs, or applauders, in theatres are 186 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. arranged on military principles, and are drilled and organised by their commander or captain. Even the great Talma and Mademoiselle Mars were obliged to have their hired band of applauders. Sometime ago a person was summoned in Paris to attend a trial. An excuse was made, that being the captain of the claqueurs at such a theatre, his duties prevented him from attending. The state in Paris at this time (1828) appeared to be out of tune for such pieces as ' Virginius ;' * William Tell' and ' Massaniello' were all the rage. At the Grand Opera, the Academie Royal, * Mas- saniello' just burst on the public, and was hailed with enthusiasm ; thus indicating that a storm was brewing in the political horizon, which burst in two years afterwards. Edmund Kean was engaged in Paris for six weeks, and made his first appearance in ' Richard the Third.' So full was the house 011 this occa- sion, that one hundred and fifty napoleons were taken for admission to the orchestra. Musicians were dispensed with during the English drama in Paris; the only instrumental accompaniment which took place during the season was that of a harp, for a new composition by Balfe, the Savoy- ard's glee in ' William Tell ;' and this was the first attempt of this celebrated man. Kean performed in Paris eighteen nights at fifty pounds a-night ; his EDMUND KEAX. 187 characters were Richard, Othello, Shylock, Lear, Brutus, in the ' Fall of Tarquin,' and Sir Giles Overreach. To judge from the many stories cur- rent of Edmund Kean, one might be led to imagine that he was the most reckless and careless actor that ever trod the boards of a London theatre. Having come in collision with him sixteen years out of the nineteen he reigned in the Metropolis as the leading tragedian of Great Britain, I am con- sequently capable of giving some idea of his mode of conduct during that period. From the days of David Garrick, Kean was the only actor that never allowed a London man- ager to place his name in the bills for a secondary character. Even Garrick himself, when an en- gaged performer, had to personate inferior parts. When Lewis brought out his play of the ' Castle Spectre,' in the original cast John Kemble's name may be found for the walking gentleman, Earl Percy ; and in the ' Merchant of Venice,' Antonio was personated by that classic actor to George Cooke's Shylock. Cooke himself, although the great star of his age, did the heavies in the comedies of * John Bull' and * The School of Reform' the sermonising Peregrine and prosing Lord Avondale. On the revival of ' King Lear' at Covent Gar- den in 1820, Macready was the Edmund to Booth's 188 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. Lear, and the Pizarro to Young's Rolla ; and both these tragedians, Young and Macready, at Druiy Lane, acted lago to Edmund Kean's Othello. Yes, I have had plenty of opportunities to per- ceive that Kean was most tenacious of the exalted position he had achieved, and was determined never to give a rival a chance to push him from it. Not that any of them gave the slightest alarm to the little man; well knowing his tremendous and overpowering genius, he could send them into the shade at any time. This was evident at Drury Lane in 1822, when Charles Young was pitted against him in Othello. The language of the greatest critic of his age, Hazlitt, may give some idea of Kean's superiority in Richard and Shylock : " It is impossible to form a higher conception of Richard the Third than that given by Kean ; never was character represented with greater distinctness and precision, and perfectly articula- ted in every part. If Kean did not succeed in concentrating all the lines of the character, he gave a vigour and relief to the part which we have never seen surpassed. He was more refined than Cooke; bolder and more original than Kemble. The scene with Lady Ann was an admirable spe- cimen of smooth and smiling duplicity. Wily adu- lation was firmly marked by his eye, and he ap- HAZLITT'S OPINION OF KEAN'S ACTING. 189 pearecl like the first tempter in the garden. Kean's attitude in leaning against the pillar was one of the most graceful and striking positions ever wit- nessed. It would have served a Titian, Raphael, or Salvator Rosa as a model. The transitions from the fiercest passion to the most familiar tone was a quality which Kean possessed over every other actor that ever appeared. Many attempted this style, and all have most egregiously failed." It was in Shylock that Kean first tried his powers at Drury Lane. The public particularly that very small por- tion that really know good acting went to Drury Lane with the idea of seeing Shylock represented in the usual style bent with age, ugly, dirty, with mental deformity, grinning deadly malice, sullen, morose, gloomy, inflexible, brooding over one idea, that of his hatred ; and fixed to one unalterable purpose, that of his revenge. But Kean took the town by surprise. No pa- ragraphs from the provinces heralded his coming ; no puffing; no friends. His look, his manner, his walk, the brilliancy of his searching eye, his expressive face, his pathos all combined to rivet the attention of his audience ; and such was his masterly skill in the scene with Tubal, that all judges pronounced him the first actor of the age. 190 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. There is no proof that Shylock is very old and infirm. The theatre is not the best place to study Shake- speare in. It is too often filled with traditional common -place conceptions of character, handed down from one actor to another, and from the simple sire to his more simple son. If a man of genius, such as Edmund Kean, ap- pears once in fifty years to clear away the rubbish, in order to render the histrionic art more fruitful and wholesome, some of the would-be critics start up and cry, " This is a novel style, unlike Kemble. It is a bad school, and will not do. It may be like nature it may be according to Shakespeare; but it is not according to our ideas. We are advanced, and that which satisfied our fathers will not satisfy us." " Admirable critics !" What testimony can be stronger than that of the renowned critic that understood Shakespeare and the dramatic art in so preeminent a degree ! Kean, in his youthful wanderings, was awake while others were dozing, and made himself au fait in every thing necessary for his profession ; and he stored that extraordinary head with knowledge. The cast taken at Eichmond after death will give a good idea of the man. As a swordsman he stood quite alone. He was a musician, dancer, panto- mimist, and a dramatic scholar; in fact, he was CRITICISM ox KEAN'S ACTING. 191 every thing that constituted a powerful and finished actor ; and as a proof of genius, he was no copyist,, but perfectly original. While I was attached to a small troupe of co- medians in Hoddesdon, Hertfordshire, in 1817, Miss Sams, at the library in that town, told me she well recollected Edmund Kean, at the age of sixteen^ acting in the town-hall with Humphrey's com- pany ; and many a time she obliged him with the loan of a Greek lexicon. At this period Kean left the stage, and was engaged in the Hoddesdon Se- minary as an assistant. Kean has been called thoughtless; but who can question his foresight and want of knowledge of the future, when he placed his son in a college where he was likely to come in contact with the first in the land with the Newcastles, Carlisles, Rutlands, Eglintons,. Cravens, Sandwiches, Exmouths, Manners, Braces, Lindsays, Cowpers, Selkirks, Chesterfields, Scott s, McDonalds, Gladstones, Doyles, Walpoles, and Burgoynes ? The following remarks on Edmund Kean, I think, are not unworthy of a place near those of Hazlitt's, and may tend to strengthen those of the great critic. " The late Edmund Kean, if as was asserted at the time, his acting differed from that of all his pre- decessors, so may it assuredly be said that none of 192 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. his successors in the remotest degree resembled him. Now and then his son Charles, in some isolated look, or tone, or gesture, recalls for a moment his gifted father to remembrance ; but the illusion is but transient. Of Edmund Kean, in his entirety, it may truly be affirmed that ' none but himself could be his parallel.' " He was alone, equally alone, in force, energy, power, originality, and conception. Every imper- sonation was instinct with truth, and bore evidence of the highest genius. " What was, perhaps, his most remarkable dis- tinctiveness was his perfect transfusion, as it were, of himself into and lifelike embodiment of the cha- racter he represented. For the time being, he was wholly and absolutely the person he enacted. " It was this complete identification of his own nature with, and his absorption into himself, of the woes and wrongs, the feelings and actions^ of the part he was playing, which was the secret of the rivetted attention and quite unparalleled sway he exercised over the emotions, hearts, and sympathies of his audience.* * Kean's great faculty of making each character distinct, gave him a superiority over all the tragedians of his day. They were alike in every character; but Kean's Shylock, Richard, Othello, Brutus, Reuben Glenroy, and Sir Edward Mortimer all were different. CKITICISM ON KEAN. 193 " In Othello, for instance, among many of his most marvellous distinctions where each throb of passion, each pang of torture, was indicated with unerring and surpassing fidelity and minuteness you had the same tears, compassionateness, and pity; the same intense and burning indignation for what you witnessed ; and your susceptibilities as strangely and vividly responded to the appeal made to them as if, instead of simulated suffering, you were spectators of and participators in some sor- rowful tragedy in domestic life. His height and figure were not unfavourable in the assumption, perhaps, of stateliness. Yet I never can admit that there were not passages in his acting of native and superlative dignity. His rebuke to Cassio, in * Othello,' was preeminently so ; he crossed the stage with calm majestic tread to where the cul- prit stood convicted, and, in a voice of stern inex- orable authority, which had an awful grandeur in it, said : ' Cassio, I love thee ; But never more be officer of mine.' No one surely who ever heard him say those words could accuse him of want of dignity. "His pauses were long, and perhaps too fre- quent. One of his peculiarities was that, however in- stinctively and familiarly acquainted with his acting 13 194 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. you were, you never could tell beforehand how he would treat and interpret any new part. " In most actors there is a conventional style such a general and sustained mannerism that, when announced for any novel character, you can form a pretty shrewd and accurate idea of how it will be rendered by them. This was never the case with Kean. " In conception he was so perfectly and appa- rently impulsive, that every fresh embodiment ex- hibited some startling unconceived surprise, never realised before. He might literally be said to * Paint the lily and gild refined gold.' "The most devoted Shakespearian, who had pored and pondered over the words of his idol for years, might receive the impress of a new light thrown on their meaning by Kean's reading of the parts assigned to him. "The oft-repeated quotation, 'One touch of nature makes the whole world akin,' might not inappropriately be applied to his acting. The startling originality, the intense energy, the subtle power, the novel conceptions, were adjuncts and accessories undoubtedly to the colossal fame which, as an actor, he enjoyed. But the great secret of his success was that he was simply, wholly, truth- fully, and really natural. SKETCH OF KEAN'S FAMILY. 195 " He exhibited humanity as it is, in all its as- pects, varieties, and conflicts of passion. Hence his supreme ascendency over the feelings of his audience the hearts of thousands beating as one man beneath his faithful and marvellous portrai- tures of emotions, affections, and infirmities of a nature common to all." Gerald Griffin, poet, novelist, and dramatist, and author of ' The Collegians, or Colleen Bawn,' speaks of Edmund Kean in the following lan- guage : " What would I give to see Edmund Kean act Hardress Cregan just to witness him at the party before his arrest, where he is endea- vouring to do the polite to the ladies, while the horrid warning voice of guilt is in his ear. The very movements of Kean's countenance in such a scene as that would make one's flesh creep. Every motion and attitude of his his ghastly efforts at complaisance, and his subdued sense of impending ruin would be all-sufficient to keep an audience in a thrill of horror, and, without a word spoken, would indicate the wiiole agony of his mind." A Sketch of Kearfs Family. Kean's grand- father, George Savill Carey, was a native of Ire- land, and wrote several poems, and the ' Matchless Maid of Morpeth.' He was the son of Harry Carey, author of the words of < God save the 196 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. Queen/ and the popular English ballad of ' Sally in our alley,' rendered so famous by Incledon. George Kean's grandfather was an actor, lec- turer, and a mimic ; and his daughter the mother of Edmund had produced some poetical works, and the writer of this work once acted in a company where she sustained a prominent line of characters. As Kean's grandfather was a mimic, Edmund was not devoid of this quality himself. I have seen him give imitations of John Kemble, Incledon, Braham, and Joey Munden ; and the best judges pronounced them of the very first order. Edmund Kean was always a welcome star at Portsmouth, in the days when the theatre in the High Street could return a receipt of 1.201. In 1824, on his benefit, he was favoured with a densely-filled house, intermingled with the dite of both services. On this occasion Kean acted Sir Giles Overreach, in Massenger's play of ' A New Way to pay Old Debts/ and Sylvester Dag- gerwood, or the Mad Actor. In the latter cha- racter he gave imitations of John Kemble, Bra- ham, Incledon, Joey Munden, and himself. His imitation of Incledon, in the pathetic bal- lad of * My trim-built wherry,' absolutely startled the audience he sang it in such a sweet and deli- cious style ; and although he acted the most vi- gorous part in the play, Sir Giles, yet in the HONOURS PAID TO CHARLES KEAX. 197 farce lie was fresh, buoyant, gay, and truly comic. He danced, sang, fenced, and was as playful as a kitten. It is no wonder that Edmund Kean should be versatile. Look at the Irish stock he sprang from -poets, mimics, actors ; and, to crown all, his fa- ther was a lawyer. Johnson had doubts respecting Garrick's really believing himself the character he was representing. There can be no doubt in this particular with Edmund Kean ; for, as John Kemble acknow- ledged, " he was most dreadfully in earnest." If the dead have any consciousness of the living, how must the spirit of Edmund Kean exult at the ovation paid to his son at the St. James's Hall in 1859, when nine hundred guests sat down to a sumptuous banquet, given on his retirement from the management of the Princess's Theatre ! Her most gracious Majesty commanded that the band of the Guards should attend ; while the Principal of Eton College, as a further mark of esteem, con- tributed the choir, and Montem Smith to preside on the occasion. A nobleman acted as chairman, the late Duke of Newcastle, the loss of whose worth and talent will not only be felt in the state, but throughout the various grades of society, where his Grace's services and kindness of heart were solicited and required. 198 HECOLLECTIOXS OF AN ACTOR. The following is the speech that his Grace de- livered, with that clearness and ease which always marked the oratorical powers of the gifted Colo- nial Minister. His Grace, after alluding to Charles Kean and Eton College, said: " For though we always had many names dis- tinguished amongst us generals, statesmen, philo- sophers, poets, and others it is only now that we have a son of Eton who has brought fresh lustre to the school to which we belonged, and to whom we are therefore anxious to prove our admiration. It would occupy you too long were I to attempt to give any thing like a biography of our guest; but I may be permitted to mention in this assembly, ini- tiated by Etonians, that it is thirty-five years ago since he and I, and many more at this table, were associated together in that school. "That as a scholar he was distinguished, you may judge from what you have seen of his after life; and that as a boy he was popular, I may ap- peal to the friends I see assembled round me this night. " In six years after he left Eton he performed on the boards of Co vent Garden Theatre for the last time with his distinguished father, who died shortly afterwards; and performed also with an- other, Miss Ellen Tree, who has been the parti- BANQUET TO CHARLES KEAN. 199 cipator of all his labours and all his cares, and now is, happily, the participator in the honours which are showered upon him. " In the days of ancient Greece, the theatre and the drama were the most effective instruments in forming the character of that remarkable people ; and even at this moment it is an undoubted index to the social status of a people. " I have referred to ancient Greece, in which the actor was deemed worthy of the highest honours in the state. "It is strange, in tins land of literature and art, while poets, sculptors, and painters receive some portion of approbation, it is strange that that branch of art, the most difficult to arrive at excel- lence in, should be cast in the shade and treated with obloquy, or, at any rate, with indifference.* " Honour then to the man who has raised the stage from what it was when he entered upon it to what it is now. " He is a great historical painter. I see some distinguished professors of the art of painting in this room, and I ask whether they do not look upon Mr. Charles Kean as a rival in the art. Happily for them, their productions descend fresh * It is strange, indeed, why such men as Kemble, Kean, C. Young, Macready, and Vandenhoff should pass through life without the honour of knighthood attached to their names. 200 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. from their easel to posterity; but unhappily for him, his perish the same evening, and leave nothing but their fame behind.* "And therefore I will only say, that I now ask you to drink to the health of one whose public virtues and whose private character have raised up around him a wide circle of admiring friends ; to one whose zeal for his profession, amounting almost to enthusiasm, has led him to prove that the theatre may be made, not a mere vehicle for frivolous amusement, or what is worse, dissipation ; but that it may be erected into a gigantic instrument of education for the instruction of the young, and edification as well as amusement of those of ma- turer age." Here publicly, one of the first nobles of the land, and a Privy Councillor too, declares " the dra- matic art the most difficult to attain is treated with neglect and obloquy." So would the law and the medical art, if they were left to chance, with- out legislation or protection. What we want for the dramatic art is some criterion to know who is a comedian and who is not. Certainly, editors ought to know this. A * Dr. Syntax speaks on this point : " But when the actor sinks to rest, And the turf lies upon his breast, A poor traditionary fame Is all that's left to grace his name." NECESSITY FOR A DRAMATIC ACADEMY. 201 man who can only sing a comic song, cannot come under the term of comedian. No performer can assume such a title, except one that had been ac- customed to represent characters in the comedies of Sheridan, Goldsmith, Colman, Morton, Inchbald, Holcroft, and O'Keefe; even a farcical actor can no more be called a comedian than a caricaturist a historical painter. We have academies for medicine and for music ; why not have an academy for acting? a school where the aspirant's mind may be properly culti- vated before he enters on his arduous profession, and a stage where his powers may be tried and de- veloped ere he comes under the lash of criticism. Acting being a practical art, the attempt to teach the uncultivated mind is something like a man sowing seeds in the earth ere it has been ploughed and harrowed. As the lamented nobleman has said " that the dramatic art may be erected into a gigantic instru- ment of education," then education on a proper and liberal basis -ought to be established in this great country, so that the days of Kemble and Kean may be revived, and the immortal bard take his proper stand in the richest city in the world, cast- ing into the shade those trifling dramas that now monopolise the attention of the public. The Kean banquet has been brought forth in 202 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. consequence of education the education which. Edmund Kean gave his son; but had that son been brought up in the " school of adversity," like his father, the eulogiums of the great Colonial Minister on the stage would have been lost; nor should I have to record another triumph to the dramatic art which took place in 1862, at St. James's Hall, when the splendid testimonial by Hunt and Roskell, valued at 1500 guineas, was presented to Charles Kean. The enthusiastic friend of Charles Kean, the lamented Duke of Newcastle, was to have presided on this occasion; but state business detaining his Grace at Windsor, the Chancellor of the Ex- chequer, W. E. Gladstone, took his place, and de- livered the following eloquent speech : "We cannot treat the Drama as among the light amusements of the world. It belongs to no particular age, to no particular country, to no par- ticular race, and to no particular form of religion. It has gone through all races, all countries, all ages, and all forms of religion ; and even Eeligion herself has not always disdained to find in it a direct handmaid for the attainment of her own purposes. Whether that connection be direct or indirect, its social and its moral effects must always be of the greatest importance. No student of human nature, no observer of society, no historian PRESENTATION OF PLATE TO CHAS. KEAN. 203 that tells the events of the world and aims to give a true picture of mankind, ever can omit it from his view. "If it be true that the drama has thus been characteristic of the whole history of man, most certainly it is not in this country where we can assign to it a secondary place, when we recollect that the land to which we belong, and the land in which we live, has given birth to the greatest dramatist of the whole world. " But I must not omit to remind you that in this very country, where the drama has taken such deep root, we have often had to lament that the practice of the art has been associated with elements that are unworthy of it ; and we have to look to Mr. Kean as one who has laboured in a noble and holy cause, in endeavouring to dissociate the noble pursuit of the drama from elements that could be thought to partake of moral and social contamination. That is a work to which he has given many anxious years and all the energies of his mind ; and I must say that what I have seen of the profession, chiefly in his person, has con- vinced me that there are few that can compete with it in the anxieties and efforts that it brings to those men who pursue it as every work and profession ought to be pursued namely, with their whole understanding and with their whole 204 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. hearts. Indeed, my poor duties are light com- pared to those of Mr. Kean." At this compliment Mr. Kean, who stood on the left of Mr. Gladstone, gave a most ambiguous smile, that spoke unutterable things. a If this be so, we have good cause for renew- ing on this occasion the expression of the senti- ments which we uttered largely at the former time of meeting in this hall ; and after the few words I have said to you I 'have only to express the earnest desire that the expression of our feelings may be to Mr. Kean himself both an acknowledg- ment for the past and an encouragement for the future ; that in all his labours he may be cheered and sustained by the recollection of the manner in which his countrymen and countrywomen have twice crowded the benches of this hall to do him honour; and that the effect of these manifesta- tions may not be limited to himself alone, but that they may operate also as incentives to others to walk in his steps, and, like him, to engage hereafter in unremitting efforts to improve the tone and to elevate the character of the stage of this country." (Tremendous cheering.) At the end of which Mr. Kean arose and deli- vered a speech, rare indeed on such an occasion in regard to pathos and poetic beauty : " Mr. Gladstone, my lords, ladies, and gentle- CIIAELES .KEAN'S SPEECH. 205 men, No language of mine can express the emotions which your kindness has this day kindled in my breast, and feeble indeed would be any attempt on my part to describe the mingled senti- ments of pride and gratitude with which I am at this moment inspired. So incompetent do I find myself for such a task, that were I not anxious to escape the censure due to discourtesy, I would fain take refuge in the words of our great poet : * Silence is the perfectest herald of joy.' At the same time I should be unworthy of the high honour you have conferred on me, as devoid of all human sensibility, were I to conceal the profound gratification I experience in receiving this manifest assurance that my efforts to promote the best interests of our national drama have been crowned with the approbation of the brilliant and distinguished company by which I am now sur- rounded." (Cheers.) a Precious to me are the words that have just fallen from the illustrious statesman who has done me the honour of presid- ing on this occasion, and welcome to my heart the demonstration of feeling which those words aroused throughout this hall." (Great cheering.) " It has ever been my earnest desire that Eng- land's mightiest dramatist should be presented to the world in a manner worthy in every respect of 206 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. his innate beauty and grandeur that each per- formance should represent < the very age and body of the time' where architecture and costume should alike be appropriate, either in their splen- dour or simplicity." {Cheers.} "While combining pictorial art with the finest poetry known to man- kind, by assisting the delusion with regard to place and period, by holding up the mirror of history, I had hoped that, without detracting from the power of the actor or the importance of the author, to have rendered the stage over which I had control something more than a mere vehicle of transient amusement an elevating and instructive recrea- tion. If there be any who suppose that I had intended to have addressed myself merely to the eyes, my purpose has been perfectly misunder- stood ; for I meant but to pass through that gate- way of the mind, and appeal to the understanding* of my audience. In the carrying out of this pro- ject I soon became aware of the difficulties I had to surmount, and of the sacrifices I should be called upon to make; for the limited space within the girdle of those walls where I attempted to picture the great historical events that are intertwined with the progress and glories of our country, and those delightful fancies that are embalmed in our * This idea of Mr. Kean's may be called Utopian, and may account for his non-success in a financial sense. CHARLES KEAX'S SPEECH. 207 literature, precluded all hope, however successful, of my ever reaping any return beyond that har- vest of gratification which I gathered from the recognition of my exertions, and from the con- sciousness of my own heart that in all I did I was paying the tribute of my boundless admiration and gratitude to the genius of that marvellous writer in whose suite and service it was my glory to labour to that genius which had illuminated my course and conducted me to whatever fame and fortune I might have acquired. I am happy and proud to say that my efforts to advance an object which to me seemed so desirable received the cordial support of my constant friends, the public" (loud cheers), "to whom now and ever I owe a debt far beyond the means of repayment." (Cries of " No, no" and loud cheering.) " For the public breath has wafted me over the stormy waves of a long professional career the public voice has placed me where I am ; and I now am encouraged to believe that the public approval is manifested in this splendid testimonial." (Cheers, long and loud.) " I am sure you will pardon me if I give utterance to one reflection, which is accompanied with the most intense satisfaction the reflection that for this priceless testimony of your good opinion I am indebted, in the first instance, to- 208 KECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. those who were the companions of my boyhood, who walked with me under the shade of those ' distant spires and antique towers' so revered by every Etonian." (Cheers.) " When I entered this hall my eyes recognised many of the old familiar f aces, linking the present with the past, reviving the sweet memory of youth, recalling those happy days before we were awakened to the world's stern realities, replacing me as it were in those loved fields * Where once my careless childhood strayed, A stranger yet to pain.' " Here Mr. Keaii paused, being affected to tears, while the audience sympathised and applauded enthusiastically. " But, let me add, it is no momentary bliss I now experience, but an impression never to be effaced from my heart while the stream of life flows through these veins." (Cheers.) " From this hour you enable me to regard the cares and anxieties I have undergone ' in the world's broad field of battle' as the victor views his retreating and beaten enemy. If in life's campaign I have had to contend with many, many opposing influences, your favour and generous sympathy have ever been at hand to lift me above all the difficulties that opposed my progress, saved TOUCHING REFERENCE TO MRS. KEAX. 209 me from defeat, healed every wound that had been inflicted by hostile shafts, and at the last rewarded me far beyond my poor deserts allow- ing me to say, in the words of the great poet Dryden, 1 Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure ; Sweet is pleasure after pain.' " (Cheers.) " As the warrior when the fiery fight is heard no more, and the star of peace returns bears on his breast the decorations which distinguish his services, with equal pride do I receive this inesti- mable symbol of honour" (pointing to the testi- monial) "which to me will be while I live the emblem of my victory, and when I die the memo- rial of my name." (Loud cheers.) " But, ladies and gentlemen, it is not on me alone that you have this day shed the light of happiness : there is another, besides myself, who feels the inspiration of this moment whose pulse beats with a quicker throb whose heart pours over in its fulness as a fountain of gladness, but whose joy is only reflected, for she rejoices not in her own but in her husband's honour." . Here a scene of great enthusiasm took place, every eye being turned towards Mrs. Kean in the gallery over the platform, who gave indications 14 210 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOE. that she was affected, while vociferous cheers burst from all parts of the hall. "While conveying my heartfelt gratitude to all, I feel that my especial thanks are due to the Chancellor of the Exchequer for presiding on this occasion, and paying so humble an individual as myself the distinguished compliment which his presence now confers. " Before I conclude I must admit that I am painfully conscious how inadequate to the honour I receive are the words I have spoken" (cries from the whole of the audience, a -A 7 0, wo"); and you will pardon me if, in the poverty of my own language, I borrow from the wealth of Shake- speare, who teaches me to say, in this simple phrase, * I can no other answer make, But thanks, and thanks, and ever thanks.' " CHAPTER Professor Blackie on Dramatic Literature Tax levied in France for the poor on all Theatrical Amusements French Pawnbrokers Government grants to French Theatres Eachel as a girl singing in the cafes Peg Woffington Theatrical Fund in France A poor Musician Salaries of Tom Cooke, Kean, George Frederick Cooke, Garrick, &c. Social and domestic subjects of England and France English Clowns and Pantomimes introduced into Paris. SCOTLAND has in her time produced many war- riors, but she has remained till the present day to send forth a champion in the cause of the drama, and one who has won golden opinions by a speech that does honour both to his head and his heart. Professor Blackie delivered the following in Edinburgh, in 1864, at the Working Man's In- stitute : " I would warn you, that if you did not come to the club-room for rational amusement such as singing or dancing, if you liked, or, yes, even for theatricals you probably might soon be found in some bad place. Talking of theatricals, there 212 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. were some clergymen who were quite superstitious in regard to that subject.* They objected to the theatre; they saw something wrong there, and thought it was a sin to go near one. Now that was all nonsense. The theatre was introduced into Christendom by the ancient Church. In heathen times it was the pulpit ; and undoubtedly the stage was the natural pulpit the" most intellectual of all pulpits. " I suppose the most sensible part of the clergy objected to the theatre not in regard to its prin- ciples, but on account of some of its accompa- niments in these our days effects of modern times. " Well, in spite of all that, and in spite of all the clergy in the world, / will go to the theatre. " I think we might have private theatricals in connection with this Institute. I suppose the clergy would not object to that ; for the clergy who would not allow their children to go to public balls had, as I have seen myself, very splendid balls in their own houses. On the same principle, though they objected to public theatres, surely they could not object to private theatri- cals. t( A number of people object to a theatre not * Yes, there is one close to Carlisle that I could name. noted for his hatred to the noble art. PROFESSOR BLACKIE ON THE DRAMA. 213 because they were too pious, but because they were too stupid. " For instance, there is no amusement that requires more talent and intellect, or has more elegant kind of work mixed up with it than the representative character. " So when in time we get a larger hall, I hope you will get up a private theatre, and perhaps I may come myself and play some part with you. " I have long wished to get up a theatre in my own house, but the salaries of Scotch pro- fessors are so small that I could not afford to get a larger house ; and then we are so hard-worked in winter months there is no time for amusement, and in summer my recreation is to walk over the Highland hills, singing Scotch songs." I can fancy the Professor, bonnet on, trudging over the Grampians, singing ' Scots wha hae.' Mr. Blackie, like the Chancellor of the Ex- chequer, alludes to the elements of evil connected with the drama evils that must be abolished. There was a time when a Scotch clergyman was deprived of his living for writing the most beautiful tragedy of modern days, the tragedy of 6 Douglas ;' but Mr. Home was not deserted and abandoned to want, for George HI. settled a pen- sion of 300 /. a-year on the talented author. The father of Charles Kean is still remem- 214 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. bered by the French people. A short time after the death of the great tragedian, a drama was produced at the Porte St. Martin Theatre in Paris, called 6 Kean,' or ' Genie et Desordre.' The hero was personated by the celebrated Frederick Le Maitre. This piece is not extinct yet. Blanchard Jerrold has given to the public lately the fruits of a trip to Paris, and with graphic skill has touched on the mode of feeding the poor in the capital of the empire. The French being a military people, the rations of the poor are as much looked after as the rations of the army. All are under a board of control, and on such principles that the food intended for the needy has not the slightest chance of filling the larders of the guardians. Every thing is managed with the same precision as in the army and naval departments in England. As there are no poor's rates in Paris, the fund is supported by a TAX ON THE RECREATIONS of the people, and by the profits of the monts-de-pitte* Each theatre in Paris pays a certain sum yearly to the poor. Every concert, every performance of any description, pays so much in the 100 francs taken at the doors. Having in my time contri- buted to the fund, I can speak confidently on the matter. The highways and byeways of Paris are freed TAX ON PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS. 215 from the presence of aged and crippled objects seeking alms ; and all persons found shelterless at night are taken to the regularly-constituted asy- lum provided by the authorities. Here their wants are attended to ; and if young children are among them, then* heartless parents are sought out and punished. No singing is allowed in the cafes, but any person that pleases can hire a private room, where he may amuse himself for the whole of the even- ing. Street -minstrels are allowed to enter the cafes and exercise their talent. I have heard a woman sing Rossini's buffo song, ' Lo ! the Fac- totum/ in splendid style. It would have been cheering if a certain Figaro in our Italian Opera could approach this humble chanteuse francaise. Now in regard to the monts-de-pie'td, or pawn- brokers, I can also elucidate, having, while in Paris, paid a visit to so necessary a personage. The staff of officials are : First, the crier, or clerk, who attends entirely to the booking department. The metals, jewelry, plate, watches, and clocks, come under the inspection of an adept in such matters. A second officer devotes his attention to the arts and furniture of every description. A third understands mathematical instruments, ma- chinery, and tools in general. The fourth a native of Rouen is au fait in cottons, linens, 216 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. stuffs, lace, woollens, hosiery, silks, cloths, boots, shoes, hats, and every thing connected with male or female attire. Those pawnbrokers are no way engaged in commerce as shopkeepers ; they are hired servants, and are expected to act faithfully between the public and the charity. Since the great increase in the population of Paris, the four pawnbrokers' offices may be doubled or trebled ; and although they are called " neces- sary evils,'' yet in great cities, where there are great trials to undergo, they cannot be dispensed with. Those who have visited Paris must have observed the extreme temperance of the people. This is chiefly owing to their recreations to the theatres. The theatre is considered the first object as a civilising power after the toils of the day. Here, on witnessing a well-acted play, the mind can luxuriate free from the vices and evils of the bottle; and that this mode of recreation should really be an instrument of temperance, no drinks whatever are allowed to be sold within the walls of a theatre. Those who cannot sit for three or four hours without drinking are at liberty to go out and satisfy their thirst. The theatres in Paris are under an adminis- tration called "Le Direction des Beaux Arts." The President is the Minister of the Interior. I GOVERNMENT GRANTS TO PARIS THEATRES. 217 have a document by me now relating to the theatres during the reign of Louis Philippe, with the signature of Duchatel as President. The Vice-President is always a veteran actor, being more au fait in dramatic matters than statesmen or lawyers. This administration was formed to protect the rights of the theatres, and preserve their interests intact, by never permitting any one erecting on his premises a stage for the purpose of singing, dancing, posturing, or any thing approaching to dramatic performances. There are four theatres in Paris that receive government grants : The grand Opera or Academic Imperiale 270,000f. per an. The Theatre Franaise .... 270,000 L' Opera Comique 270,000 Italian Opera 270,000 L'Odeon 100,000 The grand opera in Paris is the French or National Opera House. Previous to the estab- lishment of this theatre, the Italian was the first in the city ; but a number of men, celebrated for their musical skill, combined together, and erected a, theatre for the encouragement of native talent, where no operas should be performed unless by French composers. Of course great difficulties were to be got over, 218 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. and great prejudices were to be encountered, as the opinion was abroad that it was a matter of impossibility to rival the Land of Song. However, as the enterprisers were not of a common order of men, as they were profound musicians, and abso- lutely understood not only the music of their own country, but that of both Germany and Italy, an opera was placed on the stage the first night of opening, that was so distinct in itself, and so original in its construction, that the efforts of the National Operatic Company were crowned with most complete success ; and in order to render the theatre of superior attraction, a staff of dancers were obtained, and a school for the Terpsichorean art established on such principles as bids defiance to every thing in any other nation. By keeping entirely to native abilities in every department of the French opera, it has gained the mastery over the Italian company, and reduced it to such a position that, unless very extraordinary exertions are used, the Italian Opera will disappear altogether, like the classic dramatic writers of bye- gone times, serving for the aged to refer to. It is but right and proper that the grand opera- house should be in the language of the country, else it becomes a matter of sound, being a per- formance in an unknown tongue unknown, at least, to the major part of the audience. NECESSITY FOR AN ENGLISH OPERA. 219 The speech which Earl Russell delivered at the Royal Literary Fund Dinner alluded to some- thing of this sort. His lordship said : " He la- mented that English literature has not yet obtained that prominence which it ought to have in our English education. Our young men are taught to acquire a knowledge of Homer, Virgil, Horace, and Ovid, and why should they not be made equally acquainted with Shakespeare, Milton, and Dry den?" This is as much as to say, "Why should not our native language and music be as much sustained and upheld as those of foreign countries?" 'Tis true, we owe every thing to Italy, for she w r as the inventress of music of scientific music. The gamut and counterpoint were brought forth by the inspiration of religion in the Church. Yet still there was a native music in these islands long before Guido or Palestrina. Giraldus Cambrensis, in the time of Henry II., speaks of the music of Ireland, and her harpists. In the days of the divine bard there were the ballads and madrigals of England ; and if we go back even as recently as George HI., we shall find in the works of Arne, Shield, Moorhead, Davy, and Sterne compositions that, if introduced in our operatic attempts, might assist in forwarding the cause of our national music. 220 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. England, I am certain, can achieve what the French have accomplished, the permanent estab- lishment of a national opera-house. We have the materials; for we have three distinct styles of music, the English, Irish, and Scotch. In regard to the latter, one evening at Covent Garden the Mellon's concerts when the ballad of ' Within a mile o' Edinburgh Toun' was struck up by the orchestra, the audience gave a round of applause. This would not have been the case if it had been *Di tanti palpiti.' Why was it? Because the people understood it, and that beautiful melody came home to their hearts. It is a gross error to imagine the sterling ballads of these islands will not be always welcomed, even in a foreign nation. When I witnessed the opera of ' Martha,' the most exciting air in it was the Irish melody of 'The last rose of summer.' It is to be lamented that the composer of the opera had not obtained a cor- rect copy of the ballad, for it is decidedly wrong in the beginning, and differs almost as much from Tom Moore's edition as 'The Cruiskeen Lawn/ now sung in 'The Colleen Bawn,' does from the original. The administrators of the theatres in Paris have the managers as much under control as the performers. No director of a theatre must an- nounce an amateur, that he may amuse himself, RESTRICTIONS ON FRENCH MANAGERS. 221 in some first-rate character; nor can a manager allot a trifling character to any young man from the bureau or atelier, or a mademoiselle fresh from the boarding-school, without incurring the risk of a heavy penalty. The authorities in a metropo- litan theatre very properly consider that all the staff should be proficients, else it is like vending that which has no intrinsic value. Amateur acting is not in great vogue in Paris. There is only one theatre for unfledged talent, and that is in the Rue Chantereine, Chaussee d'Antin, not far from the house where Napoleon resided in his early career. During my rambles in Paris, I encountered a juvenile minstrel in an English tavern, " Woods," Place Favart. This minstrel with her guitar often amused the company after dinner with her vocal and instrumental talent, and this girl, scarcely fourteen, became the Siddons of her country, Mademoiselle Rachel. If France has produced such an extraordinary character, Ireland may be quoted as a nation that has afforded to the metro- polis of England an actress reared in poverty, who not only satisfied the critics of London by her per- formance of Lady Macbeth, but also in comedy cast into shade the Roscius of the age, David Garrick, in Sir Harry Wildair. This was Margaret Wof- fington. Some idea may be formed of her qualities 222 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ACTOR. by the monody written by Hoole, the translator of