Richard Younge

In the course of these articles I have made occasional reference to— amongst Thespians— "the noblest Roman of them all."
GUSTAVUS VAUGHAN BROOKE.

Quite recently there was a newspaper controversy as to the correct name of the great tragedian, some of the controversialists contending that his name was Gustavas Vasa. I have undoubted testimony (the autograph of the actor in full), which gives the second name as Vaughan, and rightly so, as this was his grandmother's maiden name. Brooke was born in Hardwicke-place, Dublin, the 'place' being a crescent of fine houses right opposite St. George's Church, and in the immediate neighbourhood of the scene of the shooting of Head Constable Talbot by Thomas Kelly in the year 1867. Talbot was a spy in the ranks of the Fenians, who went as far as to attend Roman Catholic services and engage in the most solemn ceremonies to enlist the confidence of members of the Fenian Brotherhood, and then betray them. To Kelly was allotted the 'duty' of wiping out Talbot. One night he posted himself in an archway, past which he knew Talbot would go. After waiting patiently the doomed man sauntered along. Kelly fired, the bullet, hitting Talbot behind the ear. One of the most famous of Dublin surgeons performed an operation to extract the bullet. Talbot died. Kelly was tried for the murder, and was defended by the great Isaac Butt, whose defence was that the surgical operation, badly performed, caused death. Butt raised such a cloud of doubt over Talbot's identity of Kelly, and Dr Stokes' manipulation of the bullet, that the jury acquitted the accused, much to the astonishment of the two judges who tried the case. Kelly, however was convicted of shooting at and wounding a police constable on the pathway right in front of the house in Hardwicke-place where Brooke was born, and sentenced to 14 years' penal servitude. On serving about half the time he was discharged on the ground of ill-health, at 24 hours' notice, and immediately left for the United States, the Government of which allowed him to enter, as his offence in Ireland was political. He did not long enjoy his freedom, as the rigor of penal servitude had completely undermined his health.
*********
Hardwicke-place, Dublin, was a fashionable neighborhood at the time of Brooke's birth, and is still a good locality, though somewhat decayed. Brooke's father subsequently lived in Hardwicke-street, at No. 4, right opposite the residence of his wife's grandmother, Mrs. Vaughan, who lived at No. 44. Young Brooke was educated at a school conducted by a brother of Maria Edgeworth. He was intended for the legal profession, his father, knowing his natural gifts, being anxious that he should be called to the Bar and "walk the hall of the Four Courts." Brooke, however, at the immature age of 14 years, had been to Hawkins-street Theatre, otherwise known as the Royal, and had seen Macready, in high tragedy, and immediately became stage-struck ! In a day or two he waited upon Mr Calcraft, the lessee of the theatre, which at that time was a 'patent theatre' (that is, it was licensed to perform plays; and had the monopoly of such in Dublin ; other theatres there were, Fishamble-street for one, which evaded the patent law by interspersing the dialogue of the plays with songs and music), and asked for an engagement. Mr Calcraft did not discourage the juvenile, but said that he had no opening for him just then.
About this time another erratic genius, Edmund Keen (born 1787, died 1833), was advertised to appear in Dublin. His real name was Edmund Carey. His parentage was questioned, even by himself, and he frequently, to many persons who were not particularly in his confidence, affirmed his belief to be that Mrs. Carey was not his mother, but that he owed his existence to a lady who through, life passed as his aunt. That lady was for many years "under the protection" of the Duke of Norfolk, and was introduced by the Duke to David Garrick, who gave her an introduction to the managers of Drury Lane Theatre, where she appeared soon after the death of Garrick.
***********
In view of the controversy as to the receipts at certain Australian theatres by certain stars in the long ago, some figures of Edmund Kean's may be of interest : In the course of the season of 1814 Kean played 68 nights. - The total amount of money received at Drury Lane Theatre on these nights was £32,642 12s 6d. When Kean came to the theatre the nightly receipts averaged £212. During his nights the general average was £509 9s. The largest receipt on the performance of Shylock was £531 2s, of Richard III. £655 13s, of Hamlet £660, of Iago £578, of Othello £673. The number of persons who visited, the theatre during these 68 nights was 166,742. The result of the calculation is that the theatre cleared by his services alone £20,000.
********
Of Edmund Kean, Lord Byron wrote : 'Just returned from seeing Kean in Richard. By Jove, he is a soul ! Life, nature, truth, without exaggeration or diminution. Kemble's Hamlet is perfect; but Hamlet is not nature.' Richard is a man, and Kean is Richard." Edmund Kean was announced to appear at the Theatre Royal, Hawkins-street, Dublin, on Easter Monday, 1833. That festival fell on April 9. But a few days before that date Mr. Calcraft received information that Kean was seriously ill, and would not be able to fulfil his engagement. As a matter of history, Kean died on May 15.
********
In his dilemma Mr. Calcraft bethought himself of his youthful applicant, and sent a special messenger to No. 4 Hardwick-street and summoned to his presence the thespian aspirant. His first application for employment was so earnest that Calcraft asked him to recite, and was much struck by the ability and fervor which he displayed, but he naturally declined to receive so mere a tyro into his company. The defection of Kean, however, altered his determination, and Calcraft on his second interview with the lad Brooke engaged him to fill the place of the great star. Easter Monday, April 9, 1833, was the date fixed for his "first appearance on any stage." The piece chosen being "William Tell." Amongst the stock company at the Hawkins-street Theatre, there was Mr. J. C. Lambert who afterwards supported Brooke in Melbourne. At a benefit performance and presentation to Brooke, on the stage of the old Melbourne Royal, J. C. Lambert, who officiated as spokesman, told the story of Brooke's first appearance. He described the handsome lad, who, with an entirely new, fresh and piquent rendering of Tell, took the Dublin audience by storm, and the Dublin audience, be it remembered, is about the most critical any actor can pass before. Permanent employment at Hawkins-street followed. The Emma of the drama was Miss Huddart, afterwards Mrs. Warner. Brooke's success was so great that, at the age of 18 years, he was recognised as a star, and played starring engagements. In one of these engagements, at Sheffield, in 1838, Mr. George Coppin, then a slim young gentleman of 18 summers, played Osric to Brooke's Hamlet.
***********
There is a somewhat hazy idea that Mr. Brooke played Virginius at the Victoria Theatre, London, in the late thirties. In 1841, William Charles Macready engaged Brooke to share "second business" with James Anderson, at Drury Lane, but on entering the green room Brooke found himself cast for the minor part of Salarino in the "Merchant of Venice." Tearing down the 'cast' notice, Brooke left the theatre vowing that he would never appear there during Macready's management. Years after—in 1848— Macready visited Brooke in his dressing room at the Olympic (London), and candidly told him that he was now "the only English actor capable of upholding the grand tragic line, and that with proper care he need fear no competitor." At Manchester, in 1845, Brooke played Iago to Forrest's Othello, and was forewarned by his comrades that Forrest's voice would drown his own. The American put forward all his lung power in the third act, but the Iago of the night was equal to the occasion, and honors were divided. It was not until January 3, 1848, that Brooke made his real debut in London. It was at the Olympic, and the piece chosen for the ordeal was "Othello." The late Mr. William Barton of the John Bull Tavern, Little Collins-street, Melbourne, to whom I am indebted for much information concerning the London stage and the London prize ring, told me that he and a number of his friends were present on the occasion. They were there by invitation as old playgoers and first-nighters, and good judges of acting. Mr. Barton tells me that Brooke's Othello was a success, but not equal to Kean's. I may say that Mr. Barton's opinion of Kean was that he overshadowed every other actor of his time. In the same way he considered Jem Ward the don of the prize ring. Later on, in 1849, Brooke was managing the Theatre Royal, Rochdale, when J. B. Howe, the veteran English actor, made his first appearance as a professional. Like most actors, Mr. Howe first trod the boards as an amateur. He was an ironmonger's assistant when, in 1847, he paid £4 10s for the privilege of playing the leading part in "The Rover's Bride,"or "The Murder in the Bittern Swamp," produced at the Old Bower Saloon. The first lady with whom Mr. Howe ever walked on the stage was the mother of the present Mrs. Labouchere. Howe's right initials are 'T.B.,' for he was christened Thomas Burdett, after Sir Francis Burdett. He came to be known as J. B. Howe by an accident, being so billed by Mr. Biddles, the father of Mrs. Charles Calvert. This Mr. J. B. Howe must not be confounded with Mr. John Howe, who, in 1871, appeared at the old Victoria Theatre, Pitt-street, under the management of Mr. John Bennett.
******************
In December, 1851, Brooke appeared at the Broadway Theatre, New York, as Othello. His success in the United States led him to undertake the lesseeship of the Astor Place Opera House, in New York, which he opened in May, 1852. The venture was a most disastrous failure, and after another tour in the United States he returned to London and secured an engagement at 'Old Drury,' then under the management of Mr. E. T. Smith, father of Dr. L. L. Smith, the well-known sporting medico of Melbourne. Mr. E. Smith was at one time also lessee of Cremorne Gardens and Her Majesty's Theatre, London. The little doctor escaped the stage through the care of his mother, who sent him to Paris for his education, she not wishing her son to "fret his little hour upon the stage."
**************
Before leaving the United States, Brooke took a farewell benefit at the National Theatre, May 27, 1853, on which occasion he was presented with a magnificent service of solid silverplate. There was a splendid salver, a hot water kettle, and five other pieces. On the salver was inscribed : —
Presented to
G. V. BROOKE, ESQ.,
by a few of his many friends
in Boston, U.S.
May, 1853.
Brooke also had presented to him a silver centre-piece, by Australian friends. I wonder where all those valuable presents are now? In the melting pot, probably, long ago. The still active George Coppin visited England in 1854, with the object of engaging stars to earn some of the gold which was then in profuse quantities in Australia, waiting for someone to earn it. Brooke and Coppin were not strangers, as will be seen above, Coppin having met Brooke, and played with him in the English provinces. Coppin met his old chum, I think, at Birmingham, and immediately secured him "for the goldfields." Having netted his big fish, Mr. Coppin looked about him for someone to consistently support the star. Richard Younge, a very conscientious and all round good actor, was chosen as the chief male support, while a pretty, smiling, good-tempered young lady, belonging to an old theatrical family Fanny Cathcart — was selected as the leading lady. In the days of her youth Miss Cathcart was a charming actress, though she did not support Brooke in all his characters. For instance, she was not the Lady Macbeth, that part being filled by Mrs. Vickery. Fanny Cathcart was a daughter of James F. Cathcart, a well-known actor of his day, and sister of J. F. Cathcart, who came first to Australia in 1863, in the Kean season, he being leading man in the series of Kean performances in the colonies. He was for nine years with the Keans before coming to Australia, and had the honor of appearing 19 times before Queen Victoria. Cathcart was practically cradled in a theatre, as was his sister Fanny. After a season of nine months in Australia, in 1863 Coppin, the Keans, Cathcart and others left Sydney for San Francisco, having previously given three Shakespearian performances in the Old Masonic Hall, York-street. After a tour in the United States, J. F. Cathcart joined Barry Sullivan, and played, with him for seven years. In 1879 he returned to Australia and remained until his death in December, 1902, at the age of 75 years. Fanny Cathcart, soon after her arrival in Melbourne, married Robert Heir, out of which some legal complications arose, Mrs. Heir having broken the letter of her engagement with George Coppin. The latter, by the way, was a widower, at the time, and rumor had it that he wished to make Fanny Cathcart his wife, but thst she 'would have none of it.' The little dispute was, however, got over, and Mrs. Heir rejoined the Coppin combination. Miss Cathcart, Brooke, Young, and others came to Melbourne by the Argo ; Robert Heir, Fred Younge, and others whom Mr. Coppin had engaged in England, coming out later on. The Australian manager was not content with engaging an expensive company to support G. V. Brooke, but he brought an Iron theatre, made in sections in Birmingham, in which to house them. The imported playhouse was not ready, however, for the first appearance of Brooke and his confreres in Australia, so on arrival the great tragedian opened at
THE QUEEN'S THEATRE,
Queen-street, Melbourne, the property of John Thomas Smith, seven times Mayor of Melbourne, who owned and occupied the St. John's Tavern adjoining. The Queen's had been the home of drama in Port Phillip for over ten- years, and when its day was over it became a coach factory, the proprietor of which was Mr. Wm. Williams, an aristocratic coach builder, who was Mayor of Melbourne in 1866-7. The old Queen's on Brooke's advent was the only theatre in existence in Melbourne where Shakespearian pieces or the legitimate drama could he properly presented. It was Hobson's choice, therefore, at Hobson's Bay, and Brooke presented his Othello to an Australian audience on the limited stage of the stuffy little Queen's.

At Spiers and Pond's 'Hall by the Sea’, at Margate, when the 'Special Bohemian' of the 'Orchestra' arrived at his destination ('Sportsman,' September 28, 1904), he found 'A crowd, a Tricon playing, surrounded with gas jets, looking as if Spiers and Pond were practising hard to set the Thames on fire, more gas devices and jets over the facade (for which word I am indebted to the 'Standard'), and a large poster, which informed me that Claribel's Ballads were to be sung every night.

***

'On being restored to consciousness'—he does not say how he became unconscious, I have my suspicions — 'I found the concert had commenced. M. Jullian was the conductor; and the programme included the names of Madame Parepa, Mdlle. Liebhart, Miss Eyles, Miss Rose Herssee, Mr. Farquharson, Mr. Weiss, and Mr. Perron (vocalists), Miss Kathleen Ryan, Miss Kate Gordon, and Herr Strauss. Herr Meyer Lutz was the accompanist, The hall was crammed, and the concert went off like one of Spiers and Pond's champagne corks. The orchestra is first-rate, and Jullian conducts with all the chic of his father before him. I never heard popular music more popularly played than the lighter selections on Saturday. As for the singing, we had the pompous Parepa, who was not half so much to my Bohemian taste as the graceful and unpretending Rose Hersee, who sang 'Where the Bee Sucks' in a way that electrified Margate right through the hall and out and across the road, right down to the bathing machines. Then there was Fraulein Liebhardt, who was vociferously recalled for her 'Lover and the Bird' (especially the 'Bird'), and the chivalrous-looking Weiss, who kept his 'Watch at the Fore’, although it was long past that hour, and, of course, his watch must have been awfully slow, although the song wasn't; and there was the terrific basso from the colonies called Farquharson, who accompanied capitally on the piano and sang the 'Wolf' with the most hilarious hilarity. (At this point I had an interview with Spiers and Pond in the refreshment room.) George Perren was then on with Mr. Weiss, and, as by this time the place had been formally opened, the duet was appropriately 'Hall's Well,' after which Miss Kathleen Ryan played a lot of Weber on the piano, and a flutter went through many a manly Margate heart to behold that clever and fascinating young lady, with the large dark eyes, and the power of the wrist, not to mention— (Spiers and Pond have just sent for me). To resume, Miss Kate Gordon also gave us a touch of her very excellent quality on a somewhat obdurate Broadwood, and Miss Eyles having contributed 'The Lady of the Lea,' which the programme informed us was composed by 'Claribel' (Ha! ha! I now see how her songs are to be done every night!), and Spiers and Pond having executed a most successful duet together in the shape of a bow from the orchestra, exhausted nature could do no more, and I rushed off to sup with a noble and intimate friend at No. 4 Royal Crescent. When I emerged from the hall a very beautiful experiment in lights was going on under the direction of my talented and affable friend, Mr. George Dolby. It appeared that whenever the transparencies at the hall were lit up, all the Margate lights, including the pier lights, went down. It had an indescribably beautiful effect, and, as such, reflects great credit on Spiers and Pond. Our old friend Dolby did not seem to see it in the same light, and made severe remarks upon the Gas Company. Mr. Thorne (local assistant of Mr. Hingston, the manager), having been despatched to sit on the gasometer, peace and harmony were restored, and your old Bohemian speedily found his weary form reposing elegantly on a sofa, at No. 4, above distantly referred to. There was hock, much hock, a beautiful balcony, and cigars; also fair women, and a murmurous sea in front. I like the lot, my noble friend , ———.

'Come! (said your own Bohemian to the company generally) unto these yellow Margate sands, with yellow Margate boots on at 4s 6d, and there take hands. Where the wild waves tumble o'er— and in which I shall bathe to-morrow, probably in the afternoon, drinking in the meantime a cup of kindness yet (with a slice of lemon in it) to Spier's and Pond, than whom I——'

(Here our correspondent's letter becomes luckily illegible. We are, however, enabled from other and more trustworthy sources to state that the Margate Hall-by-the-Sea is likely to prove a well-merited success.— Ed.)

***

The old Melbourne Royal and the historic cafe are doomed. After a life of half a century, with a fire midway, the old building, I believe, goes. The history of the Melbourne Theatre Royal will include the history of the best days of the Victorian stage, when the acting was acknowledged to be at his best, and without the adjunct of pretty scenery and elaborate properties. The theatre was built by John Black, a name unknown in theatricals until then, but well known on the road between Melbourne and Sandhurst as a carrier in the early fifties, at a time when carriage meant £100 per ton. Out of his pile Mr. Black built the Royal, and lost his pile. It was opened in 1855 with the 'School for Scandal.' The old Queen's was then open, and doing well, G. V. Brooke being the attraction. The Queen-street house was good enough for the prehistoric days of Melbourne, but with the discovery of gold and the advent of thousands of gold-seekers, and the success of thousands of these in gold finding, the 'playhouse' erected by John Thomas Smith in the forties was found to be inadequate to the public wants.

When George Coppin (whom God preserve) went to England in search of talent, and found G. V. Brooke, he also bethought him that, being such an expensive star-— £300 a week— and he dependent upon one small theatre, was not, in colonial parlance, good enough. Accordingly he made his way to Birmingham, and entered into a contract with Messrs Bellhouse and Co. to build him in sections an iron theatre, capable of holding £300. Mr. Coppin's first agreement with G. V. Brooke was, I believe, for 200 nights at £50, or a total of £10,000. The theatre was named the Olympic, out of compliment to the theatre so named in which, in 1847, G. V. Brooke made his first London appearance. The Melbournites, however, dubbed it the 'Iron Pot,' though it was as pretty and cozy a theatre as anyone could wish. Brooke, however, did not open it; that honor was bestowed on the Wizard Jacobs, as Brooke was playing elsewhere. In 1856 George Coppin became possessed of the Royal. In that year Brooke and Coppin entered into partnership, before, I think, the original engagement was concluded. They separated in 1858, Brooke retaining the Royal, Coppin taking as his share of the assets the 'Iron Pot' and Cremorne Gardens, at which latter place he did a roaring business. It was then, I think, that Brooke commenced to lose money. As I have pointed out before he was not a business man and relied upon others to look after his interests. At first Richard Younge managed for him, then Robert Heir. Henry Edwards, from Sydney, was engaged in the stock company, and George Fawcett was running the old Princess'. On the failure of Heir as manager, Edwards and Fawcett were appointed. Their management ended in disaster. Ambrose Kyte was owner of the building, and had been called upon on many occasions for accommodation cheques to keep the ghost walking. The failure of Edwards and Fawcett, as managers, was the means of healing a breach that had occurred between Coppin and Brooke, and the former returned to the Royal as manager. Its position at this time was not satisfactory. After giving Burton's circus a show, Wilton had it for a while, and under his auspices, in 1862, Barry Sullivan appeared. In 1863 Sullivan showed what he could do in management, and in 1865 William Hoskins and Clarence Holt joined hands, holding together until 1867, when the theatre came under the joint management of six very worthy stage men — J. Chambert, Charles Vincent, H. R. Harwood, Richard Stewart, T. S. Bellard, and John Hennings, the scenic artist. The six held together, and did well for some time. Each man had his allotted duty in management, and did it. The first break in the six was the death of Charles Vincent, occasioned by an accident, deemed of small moment at the time. He had purchased a horse, and was about mounting to go for a ride when the animal became restive and threw the rider; in the fall one of his hands was injured, lockjaw set in, and the popular husband of Miss Cleveland went the way of all flesh. Mr. Lambert went England and ended his days in the village in which he first saw the light. Tom Bellair went into hotel management. He kept the Rainbow at Ballarat for some years, and died in the principal hotel at Wagga Wagga. Harwood retired, and went on a tour to to India and China, I think. The partnership then became Coppin, Greville and Hennings, and Harwood again joined later on. The old Royal Theatre was burned in March, 1872. The piece being performed on the fatal night was the 'Streets of New York,' the hero of which was played by a very capable actor of those days, James Carden, Miss Eloise Juno also being in the company. Mr. G. R. Ireland and all the members of the company suffered losses in wardrobes, etc. The historic cafe was then in the occupation of the renowned scenic artist, William Pitt, father of the architect of today. Mr. Pitt had for many years kept the Garrick's Head Hotel, opposite the Eastern Market, where his right-hand Hebe was the now Mrs. Roberts, of the Criterion Theatre Hotel, Sydney, but then well known to us youngsters as Miss Polly Smith. The first to discover the fire was Jack Conway, the well-known cricketer, who was smoking a midnight cigar at the window of Sayers' Prince of Wales Hotel, Bourke-street. Six months previously the Haymarket Theatre was burned down, and but a few weeks before the Prince of Wales Opera House, in Castlereagh-street, went under to the same agency. In the seventeen years life of the old Royal there were memories both pleasant and painful. In the seventeen years there were, it might be said, three periods, the Brooke, the Sullivan, and the Montgomery. Mark the distinction between the two pieces, that at the opening 'The School for Scandal,' and that at the close, 'The Streets of New York!' A decadence truly.

As the actors were homeless through the fire, and out of work, and many out of cash, something had to be done for their relief. Among the most attractive efforts to gather in coin was a cricket match on the principal Melbourne ground, the cricketers in costume, and to some extent supporting the characters they sustained. George Coppin appeared as Paul Pry, J. R. Greville as 'A party by the name of Johnstone,' Mr. Hennings as Claude Melnotte, Mr. Carden as Enoch Arden, Richard Stewart as Lord Dundreary, Ireland as Cassio, John Dunn as 'That Rascal Jack,' Appleton as Ronaldo, Roberts as Asa Trenchard, old Jimmy Milne as Mike Feeney, and minor men in various guises. At the time of the fire the Princess' was empty, and the lessee, William Saurin Lyster, offered it to Mr. Coppin and his friends for a short season. Mr. Coppin made a speech — he was always great on speeches — in which he detailed his sorrows. Six years previously he had started life afresh without a sixpence; he had succeeded, but the fire had swept away most of the provision which he had made for old age and a large family. Yet Mr. Coppin re-built the Royal and opened the new venture on Cup night (Cup winner, John Tait's The Quack), 1872, with an address written by Dr. Neild and spoken by Mrs. Collins, then (later on Mrs. H. R. Harwood) nee Docy Stewart. Then followed 'To Oblige Benson' and 'Milky White,' in both of which Mr. Coppin appeared. The company proper was at Adelaide, but Coppin did not wish to miss a bumper house such as always eventuates on Cup night. Since then the fortunes of the theatre have been varied. Many new theatrical ventures have sprung into existence, the most formidable being the gorgeous Princess'.

At the time of the opening of the Theatre Royal (No. 2), the Princess' was in full swing with a strong company under Stuart O'Brien and Miss Jones, heavy tragedy being the order of the night. During the same Cup week a dramatic benefit was given Mr. John Whiteman, who had filled as many parts in life as did the late George Adams. Mr. Whiteman was a blacksmith by trade, and a poet by instinct, his little volume, 'Sparks from the Anvil,' being readable. He had been a publican, and in that, as in other trades, had his ups and downs. On the benefit night Coppin and Stewart appeared; Marcus Clarke wrote an address, which was spoken by John Edwards the younger. Looking over those old bills, one comes across many names now absolutely forgotten, of the seniors George Coppin being about the only one of a long list now remaining; and about this time— 1872 — there arose a controversy regarding 'deadheads,' in which Mr. George Coppin, Morton Tavares, and others took part. The germ of the controversy was as to whether Vice-Regal patrons should not pay for seats occupied in the theatre even on 'command nights.' The Vice Regal delinquent at whom George Coppin was hitting, and hitting mighty hard, was Viscount Canterbury, who in his earlier days was known as John Henry Thomas Manners-Sutton. The correspondence was carried on with some vigor, the theatrical critics, strange to say, siding with the deadheads, from a fellow-feeling perhaps. There was a dramatic association in existence in Melbourne at the time, and the matter was thoroughly threshed out at its meetings. Viscount Canterbury, who appears, from the correspondence, to have been a persistent deadhead, asked Mr. Coppin to send in an account of the 'items,' but this Mr. Coppin declined to do, on the ground that his profession never gave credit. Of this interesting dispute more anon.

(To be continued.)

That Shakespearian controversy (in the "Sportsman," May 18, 1904) has awakened long dormant memories, and a pleasant evening recently spent with one, who, like myself, lives chiefly in the past, has served to recall many incidents in connection, with music and the drama not before seen In print.

What old faces we brought back in our gossip! What happy days we revived! The days when John Gordon Griffiths managed the old Victoria Theatre in Pitt-street, numbering in his company such artistes as Sarah Flower, Madame Carandini, Sam Howard (known as "Gypsy”“ and sometimes Tinker" Howard, the former from his appearance, the latter from his trade before taking to the stage), Mrs. Guerin (afterwards Mrs. Richard Stewart, and still with us), the Sisters Howson and their brothers, and many others of equal calibre and fair fame.

John Gordon Griffiths was a Shropshire man, born in August 1810, and shortly after leaving school joined a dramatic company. He became a member of the M’Kay circuit, and subsequently joined Mr. Alexander at Glasgow. It was while with these managers that Mr. Griffiths acquired a knowledge of Lowland Scotch, which made him a success in such parts. After leaving Scotland he played in London, and there met Mr. Joseph Wyatt, of the Victoria Theatre, Sydney, who induced him to come south.

He arrived in 1842, and opened in “Hamlet.” He met with great opposition, mainly, I think, from the friends and admirers of Francis Nesbitt McCron, who was in or near Sydney at the time. Griffiths, however, overcame the trouble, and eventually become manager of the Victoria Theatre, and in 1855 filled the same position at the Prince of Wales Theatre, Castlereagh-street. He retired after a short term, and took up his residence at the Pier Hotel, Manly, where he died on March 4, 1857. Gordon Griffiths was a good man, and a good actor.

The years 1855-56 saw many eminent actors in Sydney, Julia Mathews, Mrs. Charles Poole, Fanny Cathcart (Mrs. Robert Heir, and afterwards Mrs. Geo. Darrell), Lola Montez, Mrs. Charles Young (afterwards Mrs. Hermann Verzin), Mrs. James Stark, Julia Harland (a daughter of the house of Wallack and wife of William Hoskins), Marie Duret, the sisters Gougenheim, etc., etc., G. V. Brooke, George Coppin, Joe Rayner, Robert Heir, Richard Younge, Charles Young (not related), J. P. Hydes, James Stark, William Hoskins, John Dunn (father of Mrs. Marcus Clarke and Mrs. L. L. Lewis, M’Kean Buchanan, Charles Burford, etc., etc. Mr. George Coppin is the only one in this list who, to my knowledge is still amongst us. Strange to say, Mr. Coppin "managed" most of them at one time or other, and “imported” direct not a few of them. Julia Mathews and Lola Montez died in the United States; Charles Poole died in Boston, in the same country; and, presumably, Mr. and Mrs. Stark, Mr. M’Kean Buchanan, and Marie Duret returned to the country from which they hailed, and laid their bones there. Mrs. Charles Young, after a chequered domestic career, died not long since in England, I believe. Julia Harland and Fanny Cathcart lie near Ellen Mostyn, Mrs. Vickery, Marie St. Denis, Hattie Shepherd, John Dunn, G. H. Rogers, and other Thespians in the Melbourne General Cemetery. Poor Bob Heir sleeps his last sleep at the Bluff, having died at sea on his way, with his wife, to fulfil Maoriland engagements. Dick Younge died in England, Charles Young at his residence, the Museum Hotel, William-street Woolloomooloo, next to the Blind Asylum of to day.

I have in front of me an interesting playbill of the good, old-fashioned sort, about three feet in length and one foot wide. It is dated 1859, and was from the printing office of Charlwood and Son, “Herald” passage, Bourke-street East. It is issued for the Theatre Royal, Melbourne, and announces the farewell performances of MR. G. V. BROOKE. The play on this particular night is “Macbeth,” Brooke in the principal part, of course; Richard Younge as Macduff; Ben Tannett, the scenic artist (who, like W. J. Wilson, played occasionally), was the Banquo; dear old Lambert, his wife, and “Old” Downey, with the cracked voice, were the witches; Harwood was Duncan; Bob Lawrence (who married Carrie George) was Malcolm; Fanny Morgan, Donaldbain; and Tilly Earle, Fleance - The Lady Macbeth was Mrs. Vickery, one of the best I have ever seen in the character. Locke’s music was given in full, the Hecate being a Mr. Hancock, who, with his wife, was popular as a singer. Brooke did not go to London then, nor for a couple of years afterwards. When Richard and Fred Younge left Brooke he brought Henry Edwards from Sydney as manager, and Edwards brought Dick Stewart, Wigan, Bill Andrews, and other old Sydneyites. Then George Fawcett Rowe was brought into the management, and in their hands it was said that G. V. Brooke was ruined. Ambrose Kyte was now the supposed owner of the Theatre Royal, and it must be admitted, if he were truthful, that he assisted the treasury with much money. About this time, 1861, Miss Avonia Jones appeared upon the scene, at the Theatre Royal. She was the daughter of an actress (Mrs. Melinda Jones) who had filled a leading position on the American stage; her father was the Count Joannes, "a vain clever and eccentric author and actor, from whom the wife was separated." Avonia inherited nothing from her father but his handsome face; - at least Avonia herself said so. I never saw the father, but Avonia Jones was handsome and attractive, and on her arrival in Melbourne, in 1860, she was but 24 years of age. Here is a description of her, published in 1878, when she had been years dead, by one who knew her well and intimately. “Tall, well-made, with a lithe form and expressive features, and a sweet, powerful and flexible voice, she seemed born to become a tragedy queen. A classic head, wreathed with hair as black as a raven’s wing, eyes equally dark, and a complexion that was clear, though colourless, surmounted a figure that readily responded to every phase of emotion she was called upon to portray.” No wonder that the advent of such a lady at the Theatre Royal, Melbourne, caused some disruption in the Brooke household. The lady whom we knew as Mrs. Brooke joined her fortunes, domestic and otherwise, with Mr. Henry Edwards, and a newspaper war, much scandal and a lot of bitterness were imported into matters theatrical in the year of our Lord eighteen hundred and sixty-one, in Melbourne.

Mrs Melinda Jones appeared seldom; she was without doubt “fat, fair and (certainly) forty.” I saw her play once, the character Romeo, her daughter being the Juliet. That was at the old “Princess” Theatre, in Spring-street. When Brooke saw the young lady he fell in love with her right off, and married her, as we then understood. When the quarrel with Edwards and Faucett caused G. V. Brooke to fall back upon George Coppin as his manager, the latter brought Richard Younge and other old supporters back to the old house – in Bourke-street. The nightly speeches by Coppin and the daily letters by Kyte, Faucett, and Edwards were choice, but the Shakespearian and other performances with Brooke and Avonia Jones in the leading characters, will live in memory.

Nothing has been seen before, and I am certain that nothing has been since, to equal them as joint performers. A great exodus of theatrical people, London-wards, took place then, the brothers Younge, Hancock and his wife, Mrs and Miss Jones, G. V. Brooke, and others taking part. Even then there was trouble. Richard Younge had a writ served on him at, I think, the suit of Robert Heir; Miss Jones was threatened with arrest at the suit of R. H. Home (“Orion”) who claimed to have written a drama which the lady declined; Brooke was sought for by the Sheriff’s officers, but could not be found; Younge promptly satisfied the claim against him. Miss Jones gave surety to defend any action which Horne might bring (he never brought one); and the Great Britain was said to have gone without the great tragedian. Wherever he had hidden himself, Mr. Brooke did leave in the Great Britain, and reached London.

It was announced some years afterwards that he had married Avonia Jones on February 28, 1863, at St. Philip’s Church, Liverpool. He led a very erratic life in England, Mrs. Brooke (Miss Jones) having left him for a time, ostensibly as a duty to her mother, but in reality because of her husband’s unhappy fondness for strong drinks. Playing at Belfast, poor Brooke was incapable one night of performing. The audience hissed, and Brooke, in dudgeon, advanced to the footlights, bowed to the audience, stuttered out a farewell, and left that stage, never to return. At Birmingham he was arrested for debt, and to obtain his release had to declare himself bankrupt. At last he picked himself up, and determined, with his only sister, to return to Melbourne under engagement to his old friend George Coppin. He took passage in the S.S. London, which, as all the world knows, foundered in the Bay of Biscay in January 1866, and Brooke and his sister went down in her. Richard Younge had returned to Australia before, and at a dramatic performance in Sydney delivered an address on the death of Brooke when the news reached this city.

I have before me another old playbill, only one of many, time stained, mildewed, and yet revered. It was issued from the Caxton Printing Office, 146 Pitt-street Sydney. Old Sydneyites will remember that it stood between the then Foxlow-place and Brougham-place, known in later days as Moore street and Rowe-street. The building was peculiar, being somewhat of the colonnade type. The printer himself was also peculiar, and E. G. is sadly remembered by some. He did most if not all, the theatrical and sporting printing. He was a jolly good sort; and at Jack Hampton’s Metropolitan Hotel in the garden beneath the trees, enjoyed with his friends the good things of things of this life. But Mr. G. fell on evil days, and Fiji for a time, and subsequently San Francisco, was his home. One cannot help but admire, however inexcusable, the ingenuity with which he engineered his way out of Sydney. He drove a handsome buggy, with a spanking horse, the admiration of Sydney. On the morning of his departure — a Saturday— he went among his friends and raised £30 each from half a dozen— “wages had to be paid,” and other engagements had to be met. To each he sold the horse and buggy, promising delivery in the afternoon. The last friend visited was a reverend father at St. Mary’s, who readily advanced such a prominent citizen as Mr. G. the sum required, and the reverend father became the proprietor of the horse and buggy. His claim was disputed, but he had a receipt and possession. A steamer was off Miller’s Point ready to sail. Mr. R. B. Smith - Bob Smith - the solicitor was on board seeing friends off. He encountered Mr. G., the latter saying that he was seeing some friends off also. He ostensibly got into a waterman’s boat, watched Bob Smith off and returned to the steamer; and sailed with her. The maddest man in Sydney on Monday, when the news of Mr. G.’s elopement was made known, was Robert Burdett Smith! Unlike another very prominent citizen and sporting man, who left about the same time, Mr. G. did not return to the city of the beautiful harbour. The Golden Gate was good enough for him.

This playbill is of the Victoria Theatre In the sixties, when Rachael Tolano was lessee, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Dillon the stars, and “Belphegor the Mountebank” and “The Bonnie Fishwife” the bill of fare. Charles Dillon was announced as the great London tragedian, and was pronounced “a triumphant success.” It was the last week but two of their engagement. In the company was Henry Neil Warner, Fred Younge, C. H. Burford, Sam Howard, Appleton, James Hasker, and some minor men, including Mr. Harlowe, who was a brother of Richard and Frederick Younge, but, being a minor actor and merely a prompter, the brothers insisted on a nom-de-theatre. Amongst the ladies were Mrs. Charles Poole, Mrs. C. Jones, Mrs. M’Gowan and Miss Dickson. In the afterpiece Mrs. Dillon was the Miss Thistledown and Maggie Macfarlane. As the former she sang the old ballad “Ever of Thee,” and in the latter, of course, “Caller Herring.”

I saw Charles Dillon in Dublin in the early fifties as Belphegor, and I saw him in Australia in the sixties in the same character. He had not improved. Australia seldom gets an actor in his prime. I saw J. L. Toole in the Queen’s, Dublin, as Fanfaronade in “Belphegor,” with Dillon, and I saw him in the Royal, Sydney, and I thought it was a cruelty to induce the old gentleman so far away from the scenes where he was tolerated to such places as Sydney and Melbourne, where every playgoer is a critic.

Though Charles Dillon - of course I am speaking of the Charles Dillon of the mid-sixties, not the stage fraud who visited us under the same name years after - played a “round of characters,” he pinned his fame to the melodrama. “Belphegor” not only In Australia but in England, and it was, when the actor was in his prime, a splendid performance. The only man whomever played it in Australia to equal Dillon was to my mind, Clarence Holt, father of Bland Holt.

The Bancrofts, in their published memoirs, pay a high compliment to Dillon in this character. It may be perhaps from the fact that Mrs. Bancroft, when a little lady known only in the West of England as Marie Wilton — and now Lady Bancroft, thank you! — played Henri, that the particular circumstance is mentioned, but the mere mention shows how jealous the “star” of our old days was of any “fat” falling to the stock actor, Dillon objected to the little lady weeping at his pathos, but as she explained that she could not help weeping, he insisted that her weeping attracted public attention from him. Eventually the matter was referred to the manager, who decided that Henri could weep to his (her) heart’s content.

Henry Neil Warner was an especial favourite at Ballarat when that city was golden and could support a theatre and a good company. Warner was a great actor, but, like all good men in his line, had his little failing. When Barry Sullivan first appeared in Melbourne, Warner was engaged to support him, and did so very ungenerously. There was a prejudice against Sullivan at the time, why I know not. Warner was the favourite, and as the curtain fell Warner was called for, Sullivan ignored. One night, the play was “Richelieu,” Warner of course the Nemours. At the conclusion Warner as usual was called for, but Sullivan stepped in front. The decrepitude of the Cardinal had been left off, and Sullivan stood, towering in rage, amidst hisses, hoots and shouts of “Warner,” “Off, off” etc., etc. Sullivan bided his time. When a lull came he stepped forward with, “What do you want? I did not come here to make a name; I brought it with me.” The tone of the audience changed towards him, and after a year or two Barry Sullivan ruled at the Royal, with a double company, composed of the best men and women in Australia. Warner subsequently went to America, and, I believe, died there.

(To be continued.)