Mr John Gordon Griffiths

On September 7, 1836, was laid the foundation stone of the Victoria Theatre, Pitt-street, with full Masonic honours. It took over 18 months to make the building ready for the public, and to make the opening night a success, Mr. Wyatt, the proprietor, engaged a company specially for the occasion. In those far off days quick passages to England were unheard of, and the 'cable' was not. Mr.Wyatt did the next best thing in the circumstances, he went to Hobart Town, Van Diemen's Land, so known then, and engaged as good performers as could be obtained and the theatre there could spare.

'The Sydney Herald' in 1838 appeared but twice a week, Mondays and Thursdays. The proprietor, Mr. Ward Stephens, of Gloucester-street and Lower George-street, Sydney, paid but little heed to the theatrical events of the town, though Mr. Wyatt advertised freely with him. In the issue of Monday, 26th, March 1838, appeared this advertisement :-

Royal Victoria Theatre.

The Public is now respectfully informed that, the above theatre will reopen for the reception of the public this Evening, 26th March 1838, when will be produced for the first time Shakespeare's Tragedy in five acts,

OTHELLO.

The Duke of Venice. Mr. Collins; Ludovico, Mr. Morton; Brabantio, Mr. Lane; Roderigo, Mr. Simes; Cassio, Mr. Groves Montana. Mr. Falchon; Othello, Mr. Arabin (from the Hobart Town Theatre); Iago, Mr. Spencer; Gratiano, Mr. Allwood; Antonio, Mr. Hollis. Julia, Mr. bnuth ; Daulo, Mr. Gazes ; Marco, Mr.Powell; Giovanni, Mr. Balton; Desdemona, Miss Winstanley ; Emilia, Mrs. Arabin.

As an interlude, Mr. Falchon, 'from the Hobart Town Theatre,' sang the popular song, 'Paddy's Wedding.' '

The evening entertainment concluded with the laughable farce.

'The Middy Ashore,' or 'A Spree Upon Land.'

The doors were open at half-past 6, and the performance commenced at 7 punctually. The prices of admission were dress boxes (or circle) 5s, upper boxes 4s, pit 2s, gallery 1s. The old world custom of half-price at 9 o'clock, never heard of now, existed then, the pit being the only exception. Boxes could be secured for the night or for the season, to be taken at the box-office from 9 to 11 each day. To prevent disappointment, no box would be kept unless the admission fee was paid at the time of selection. The plan of the dress circle was always on view at the box-office. Children in arms were not admitted, not even at the old country fee of one guinea each. Mr. Joseph Wyatt signed the advertisements as proprietor, and wound up loyally with VIVAT REGINA.

It must be admitted that Mr. Wyatt's company was a generally useful one, Mr. Arabin 'starred' in bills and advertisements, and Miss Winstanley ditto, ditto, not objecting to appear in such a farce as 'The Middy Ashore.' Mr. Wyatt took care to expand the list of characters in 'Othello' in a way that the Divine William never dreamt of. I am under the impression that, in the present day, if 'Othello' were produced in anything like good form, that an Irish comic song would not be tolerated immediately after it. 'Paddy's Wedding,' however, brings back reminiscences of John Drew and Billy O'Neill, who first, I think, introduced the rollicking song to the Melbourne public. The Mr. Morton who played Ludovico was a near relative— brother, I believe— of Mr. Maddison Morton, the dramatic author. On Mr. Morton's decease his widow kept for a time a tobacconist's shop in Market street, combining the business with newsagency and bookselling. The shop was No. 72, within two doors of Pitt-street, and now built over by Farmer and Co. The lady was there in 1878.

Commenting on the performance of Shakespeare's grand tragedy, the first time, I think, of its production in Australia (Arabin may have played the part in Van Diemen's Land), the 'Herald' critic gave the star credit for a 'chaste conception of the character,' his great fault being that he delivered all soliloquies to the audience, a fault not confined to Mr. Arabin, as most of the old time tragedians always took the audience 'into their confidence,' Mr. Spencer "played that pretty rascal lago well but confided all his villainy to the audience," the critic no doubt thinking that Spencer should have kept his villainy well bottled up until the closing scene. I have seen many Iagos, but never yet saw one who could conceal his villainy. Though excellent in comedy, Miss Winstanley and Mrs. Arabin were counted rank failures in tragedy. The critic considered that Mr. Groves misconceived the character of Cassio, and as to the farce, Mrs. Murray, "a petite little lady with a shrill voice, was animated and likely to become a favourite." Strange to say, the critic admitted that he had forgotten the name of the man who sang the comic song, 'but it served to amuse.' The 'Herald's' critic did for the opening night of the Victoria Theatre what John Baldwin Buckstone once said that a critic did for one of his dramas, "Damned it with faint praise."

Mr. Wyatt, anxious to please his patrons, added to his company. He had a monopoly now. After Mr. Barnet Levey's death, the widow continued to direct the Theatre Royal, but the strain appears to have broken her health, as in the issue of the 'Herald' which announces the opening of the Victoria Theatre, she advertises her thanks to those who sympathised with her in her trouble, and attributes her illness to the cares and worries of theatrical management. She was not the first nor the last who suffered worries from theatrical management. Added to Mr. Wyatt's company at the. time were Mr. and Miss Lazar, Mr. and Mrs. Cameron, and Mrs.Clarke.

At one time the name Lazar was a household word In Australian theatricals. Some years ago a son of this old-time actor had the lease of the Theatre Royal, Castlereagh-street. Mr. John Henry Want, now K.C., then a pushing junior barrister and a patron of all legitimate sport, in which may be included the drama, had business relations with Mr. Samuel Lazar. On occasions the 'treasury' required assistance to enable the 'ghost' to walk with comfort, and on such occasions Mr. Want generously came to Mr. Lazar's aid— I think at one time Lazar's indebtedness to Mr. Want amounted to £600, good coin of the realm advanced to keep the theatre going. As some sort of security, Mr. Lazar gave Mr. Want control of the O.P. box for his private use and that of his friends. While Mr. Lazar was in active management Mr. Want and his friends enjoyed the occupation of the O.P. box without let or hindrance. But evil days fell upon Mr. Lazar; he lost his reason, and was confined until his death in one of the asylums. His interest was still maintained in the theatre; his daughter, Miss Victoria Lazar, afterwards Mrs. Moss succeeded to her father's interest in the lease. But the lady questioned Mr Want’s rights and felt disposed to dispute his possession of the O. P. box. Unfortunately for Mr Want, all the documents and memoranda in connection with his transactions with Mr. Sam Lazar were destroyed in a fire which took place on his premises. Mrs. Moss, however, temporised (I am writing entirely from memory), and agreed that Mr. Want should have the box alternate nights, Mrs. Moss and her friends occupying it for the other three. For peace sake, I presume, Mr. Want agreed to this, and for a time things went on amicably enough. But Mrs. Moss tired of the arrangement, and blocked Mr. Want's entry altogether. Then Mr. J. H. Want went to law. He invoked the aid of the Chief Judge in Equity. The matter, like most Chancery matters, dragged its slow length along for many months, if not years. Then Mr. Justice Owen gave his verdict against Mr. Want. The latter was not satisfied; he appealed to the Full Court and again was beaten. But he was not faint-hearted. He had helped Sam Lazar with good coin, and if he could not recover that he would at least have the 'compensation' that Lazar in his time had allowed him the use of the O.P. box. Mr Want appealed to the Privy Council, and, fate of fates, while the appeal was under way, another 'authority' stepped in and ended the proceedings. In 1892 the 'fire fiend' seized the Theatre Royal, and ended not only Jack Want's long-drawn-out suit, but also Miss Victoria Lazar's (Mrs. Moss) interest in the lease. As fire had destroyed the theatre, there was no theatre to lease! The costs, which all fell on Mr. Want, must have been simply enormous. In the last moments of the Theatre Royal Mr. George Musgrove was manager, with Mr. C. L. Goodman as treasurer, Sam Lazar's representative being the lessee.

The management of the Victoria Theatre, as was absolutely necessary, varied its programme to suit its patron’s tragedy, melodrama, comedy, and farce, with good, bad, and indifferent actors, until the beginning of the year 1841, when a new actor of some old country note struck Sydney. This was none other than FRANCIS NESBITT M'CRON, a name yet remembered by some ancient Playgoers. Not many, however, remember him, but those who do remember Nesbitt— his stage name— place him next to G. V. Brooke. My dead friend, Sam Banks, a personal friend and devoted admirer of Mr. Nesbitt's, placed me in possession of much relating to the private history of the actor. M'Cron was a native of Manchester (England), born in 1809. His mother was named Armstrong, his father a captain in the army. Nesbitt M'Cron was educated for the medical profession, but his taste for amateur theatricals led him to the stage. He stood 5ft 10in in height, very erect in gait, and walked as if on parade. His voice was powerful and melodious. My thirty-years' friend, John Bennett, whose life-long experience of actors ought to make him a judge, says that Nesbitt's voice was the most musical that he ever heard.

M'Cron 's resolution to adopt the stage as a profession was distasteful to his family, but he had made his choice and was determined on following it. Under his second name, Nesbitt, he became a member of a travelling company in Ireland, in the course of which he met G.V. Brooke and Barry Sullivan. Of both these great actors Nesbitt spoke in the warmest terms of friendship and affection. After touring England, Nesbitt struck Scotland, where he met Gordon Griffiths, who subsequently came to Sydney. From Glasgow, in 1840, Nesbitt returned to Ireland, at the request of his relatives, who still thought to wean him from the stage. During a visit to Cork he met Miss Annie Mills, the daughter of respectable parents, and wooed her, but the parents objected, not to the man, but to his profession. Failing their consent, Nesbitt eloped with the lady and married her. In 1840 the couple took passages in the ship Marchioness of Bute, and arrived in Sydney on January 7, 1841. Nesbitt brought letters of introduction to several big people. Governor Gipps being among the number. That to the Governor was never delivered; the others secured him a billet as tidewaiter in the Customs, Henry Parkes occupying a similar billet about the same time. A quarrel with a superior officer induced him to throw up the appointment. In checking cargo Nesbitt wished to sit, the superior officer ordered him to stand, and Mr. Nesbitt 'cut and run.' Failing to get other employment, Nesbitt joined the police force, and for a part of one night walked 'a beat' in Sydney streets. He resigned in the morning.

At that time Mr. Joseph Simmons was manager of the Victoria Theatre, and to him went Mr. Nesbitt. As the latter had been brought up in the south of Ireland he had just “the last taste of the brogue” on his tongue, but could, when he pleased, lay, aside the 'accent.' While conversing with Mr. Simmons, Nesbitt unconsciously used the brogue, which set Mr. Simmons, a Hebrew with a "lisp," in roaring laughter. The idea of playing Hamlet with an Irish brogue tickled the fancy of the Hebrew manager. Mr. Nesbitt, however, gave 'Rolla's address to the Peruvians' in a style and in an accent never before heard by Mr. Simmons. There was no trace of brogue, and the Hebrew, who could tell a good thing when he saw it, immediately closed with the new actor, who had dropped unheralded amongst them. The play of 'Pizzaro' was in rehearsal, Mr. Simmons being the Rolla, but he generously gave up the part to Nesbitt. There was but a peer attendance, but by the time half price had arrived the people in the street heard that a genius was playing at the Vic., and the house became crowded. Nesbitt next appeared as Richard III, crowding the house for fourteen nights, an unprecedented run for Shakespeare at such a time, and a distinct tribute to the great merits of the actor. His list of characters during this engagement consisted of William Tell, Rolla, Othello, Macbeth, Richard III, Sir Giles Overreach, Octavian, Sir Edward Mortimer, and Virginius. As indicating Mr. Nesbitt's real character, it may be mentioned that when he accepted the engagement with Simmons, Mr. Conrad Knowles, who had left the pulpit for the staged held such parts as Hotspur, Mercutio, Hamlet, The Stranger, Falconbridge, and such. These Nesbitt would not play, not from any fear of comparison, but from a sense of Justice towards the other actor.

In 1841 Mr. Wyatt went to England in search of talent, and made some engagements. I think he was absent when Nesbitt was engaged, but early in 1842 the first contingent arrived. This consisted of John Gordon Griffiths, Mr. and Mrs. Harry Deering (the parents of Olly Deering and Mrs. W. B. Gill), and Mr. and Mrs. Mereton (the first-named selected as Mr. Simmons' successor in the management). After a time came Madame Carendini, Mrs. Stirling (afterwards Mrs.Guerin, and now the widow of Richard Stewart, and mother of Richard, Docy, Nellie, and Maggie Stewart, who have all reached success upon the colonial stage), and Frank and John Howson. These came from Hobart Town. Then followed Madame Torning, Mr, James and Madame Louise, Mr. and Mrs. George Coppin and others making the Victoria company a particularly strong one. Of all these, but George Coppin, at 85, remains. Long may he remain!

Nesbitt remained with the company, and 'Coriolanus' was put into rehearsal; but Nesbitt's 'weakness' overtook him, and John Gordon Griffiths performed the part. Nesbitt then crossed the Tasman Sea to Van Diemen's Land; and played at the old Albion Theatre, Launceston, and at the Victoria, Hobart Town, for several seasons. He then crossed to Melbourne, where he secured an engagement at the old Queen's Theatre, in Queen-street, built by John Thomas Smith, the Melbourne Whittington, differing only from Dick in as much as Dicky was but thrice Lord Mayor of London, whereas John Thomas Smith was seven times Mayor of Melbourne. Mr. Nesbitt's liking for strong drinks was a source of constant worry to his managers.

(To be continued.)

To be chronologically correct, it must be mentioned that the opening of the Victoria Theatre was the death warrant of the Theatre Royal. Barnet Levey died before the 'Vic'' was completed, and his widow kept the Royal open for a while, but the theatre suddenly closed on March 22, four days before Joe Wyatt opened his new venture. The Royal remained closed until the big fire removed it in March 1840. The fire originated in a stable on the adjoining premises, belonging to a Mr. Blanch, a mathematical instrument maker. The officers of a regiment then in Sydney, who had been attending a ball, hurried to the fire and assisted to remove goods, etc. In the early forties an Italian opened a canvas show in Hunter-street, and subsequently erecting a stage and scenery, named the concern the Olympic, and commenced in opposition to Wyatt. He got together a good company, but after a time the canvas theatre collapsed.

About the time that Levey opened the Royal in George-street, a theatre was opened in Launceston, and, we read that Mr. Cameron took a company from that town to Hobart Town and opened in "The Stranger." The first theatre named in the northern capital of Tasmania was the Royal Olympic, which formed part of the London Tavern, as did the Royal in George-street, Sydney. Amateur theatricals were popular in those days, chiefly amongst the military, and amongst these military amateurs was our own George Herbert Rogers. There exists a playbill in Launceston of a performance of "Charles II, or the Merry Monarch," given by the men of the 96th Regiment. In 1845 Mr. George Coppin leased the Olympic, and kept it open for a number of years. In 1850 the Lyceum Theatre, in Cameron-street, was opened under the management of Mr. James Melville. The Cornwall Rooms and the Royal Clarence theatre were opened in the same year. At the Rooms Miss Catherine Hayes appeared, the charges being 21s, 10s 6d, and 5s. The Theatre Royal was opened in 1857 it stood where the Empire now stands, and on its stage many Thespians of note appeared. ln 1863 the Lyster Opera Troupe appeared at the Royal. The Royal was closed in 1878.

In Southern Tasmania, Hobart now has one theatre, and that an old one. The De Graves family had something to do with its erection. One of its early managers was Robert Osborne. Later on J. W. Watson and John Davies held the reins. In the early days, at the Freemasons Hotel, in Harrington-street, was a theatre owned or leased by Mr. and Mrs. Clarke. There the soldiers from the barracks congregated, and the townspeople also patronised the show. Tommy Atkins was not then excluded from the theatre. Later on the Tasmanian Hall across the street was devoted to the drama. Mr. Delsarte had some connection with this establishment. Then there was the Hobart Hall in the same street. Next there was the Royal Albert Theatre, chiefly supported by seafaring men. This latter has been transformed into an hotel and is known as the Carlton. Circuses flourished, too, in those early days. Of the old actors in those old Tasmanian theatres one still lives in Sydney, at about 90 years of age— Mr. James Hasker.

Amongst the members of the theatrical profession mentioned in these bygone annals, none occupied a larger space in public affection than GEORGE HERBERT ROGERS, with whose death the Australian stage lost one of its best and brightest ornaments. But very few of his stamp have appeared upon the colonial stage. In London he would have ranked with the elder Farren, who is said yet to have left no successor, and he died in 1861. Mr Rogers was the son of a physician, whose widow married Major Elsey, of the Bank of England. His family was connected with that of Joseph Rogers, whose name appears frequently in volumes of Poetry chiefly of a religious character, and also with the Poet Herbert Rogers, from whom he took his second name. As brothers he had Professor Henry Rogers and John Rogers, and as half-brother Dr. Elsey, of the Port Essington expedition. An unfortunate family squabble drove Rogers when a young man from home, and in a wild moment he entered as a private soldier in the 51st Regiment at Chatham. Before his friends could take steps to purchase his discharge, or effect a reconciliation the, 51st was ordered to Van Diemans Land, and Mr. Rogers went with his company. Though repeatedly invited to return home, Sergeant Rogers as he had become, steadily refused; he had not forgotten, and I believe never did forget, the domestic trouble that drove him from home, and from the probabilities of a distinct position in the best circles of England. In connection with private theatricals at Hobart Town Rogers showed marked ability, even among the professionals with whom he sometimes appeared. The Colonel of the regiment, a patron of the drama, gave Mr. Rogers every latitude, and the lady lessee of the theatre attached to the Freemasons' Hotel, in Harrington-street, Mrs. Clarke, was eager on all occasions to obtain his services. The Colonel was a frequent visitor behind the scenes, and the fair lessee worked her point very adroitly. Though enlisted for 21 years, the term of the service, and though unwilling that the regiment should lose the services of such a steady man as Sergeant Rogers, the Colonel admitted that there was nothing in the regulations to prevent Sergeant - Rogers buying himself out of the army, provided that he (the Colonel) saw no objection. With such a fair pleader the Colonel was brought to see no objection, and Sergeant Rogers became Mr. Rogers, of the Theatre Royal, Hobart Town. I believe the fair lessee found the sovereigns with which to make the novel purchase, but as Mr. Rogers the actor was as great a favourite as was Sergeant Rogers the soldier, the indebtedness was soon wiped out.

In a particular range of old men Mr. Rogers had no compeer in Australia. Mr. J. C. Lambert has been frequently brought into comparison, but, though frequently playing the same characters, no comparison could be made; both excelled, because both gave distinct and widely different readings. In such characters as Sir Anthony Absolute, Mr. Rogers led, while as Sir Peter Teazle, Lambert's rendering was the more refined, the more courtly; yet when you saw Rogers as Sir Peter, you were forced to inquire whether Sheridan meant the baronet to be courtly or ''country," for that is how I distinguish between the pair. Sir Anthony suited Rogers eminently; the choleric old baronet was personified to the life. I remember on one occasion, in the middle of a scene, where Sir Anthony leaves, having "disowned" his son, the Captain, the enthusiasm of the audience rose to such a pitch that the actor was compelled to return and bow his acknowledgments. In such parts as Mr Hardcastle ("She Stoops to Conquer") Grandfather Whitehead, Lord Duberly, Lord Ogelby, and old men in domestic drama and high comedy, his sway with the audience was unbounded. In his acting he was sympathetic to a degree. I recollect, at the Melbourne Theatre Royal, when Lady Don reappeared in the "Daughter of the Regiment," how sympathetic the house was, the sympathy being induced by one little touch of nature on the part of Mr. Rogers, the touch that makes us all kin. Lady Don had left her husband, Sir William, in a Hobart Town grave. It was her first appearance, I think, since his death; certainly it was her first in Melbourne since the sad event. Rogers was the old sergeant of the play. When Lady Don came to the front she completely broke down, and, falling on the shoulders of "old Rogers," she sobbed aloud. It was no stage trick, but the genuine outburst of a heart that had sustained an irreparable loss. The old sergeant took her to his arms, and gently patting her on the shoulder whispered words of condolence. The audience silently awaited the recovery of the lady, and when she was able to speak her first lines, Lady Don had no reason to be other than satisfied with her reception. She was still remembered, and her dead husband had not been forgotten.

Coming to Mr. Rogers' professional career, Mr G. V. Brooke expressed the opinion that he equalled William Farren; and Charles Mathews, when in Australia, expressed his wonder that Rogers had never tried the British stage, as he was sure that he would have been successful. Charles Mathews offered, if Mr. Rogers would go to London, to ensure him an engagement, but Rogers was too deeply rooted in the affections of Australian playgoers to take the trip— not that he had any reason to believe that he would be a failure. Mr. Rogers married a sister of the late Charles Young, comedian (see "Sportsman," 22/6/'04), and left a family of six, three sons and three daughters. Two of the latter adopted their father's profession. One of the sons is Mr. Horace Rogers, reporter, of the "Sydney Morning Herald." Mr. G. H. Rogers died at Melbourne on February 13, 1872, the cause of death being the bursting of a blood vessel, his age being given as 53 years. The genial actor, good citizen and staunch friend, was buried in the Melbourne General Cemetery, in close proximity to a number of players who had "gone before"— Ellen Mortyn, Marie St. Denis, Mrs. Vickery, Hattie Shephard, and many others. On his tombstone are inscribed the lines by Longmore: —

"There is no death; what seems so is transition.
This life of mortal breath
Is but a suburb of the life Elysian,
Whose portal we call death."

Referring to Mr. Joseph Wyatt, who built the Victoria Theatre in 1838, I have described him as a leather merchant and ironmonger having his place of business next to the School of Arts in Pitt Street I find that Mr. Joseph Wyatt was a draper carrying on business in the early thirties (and before) at "16 Lower Pitt street," at No. 15 being his brother William, carrying on as a boot and shoemaker or dealer. The number then stood to the north of the School of Arts of today. In 1844 Mr. William Knight was the leasee of the Victoria Theatre, while Mr Joseph Wyatt occupied the Victoria Hotel, attached. On the southern side Mr A. J. Levy kept the Garrick's Head, and on the northern a few feet away, Mr. William Dind, of very healthy memory in connection with theatricals, kept the Star and Garter. On the corner of King-street was the Black Boy Inn afterwards known as the Liverpool Arms and, when kept by Ben Palmer and J B Moore, a house of call for theatrical people. Nearly opposite the Victoria Theatre a little to the north perhaps, was the Clown Inn, kept by no less a personage than George Coppin, then 25 years of age, now with 60 added on, and still hale and hearty and talking of spending £20,000 on alterations end improvements to the Theatre Royal, Melbourne. This Clown Inn was one of Mr. Coppin's unfortunate speculations. He did not, however, risk his all there, but quickly went to Launceston, as seen above, where he showed that he knew more about drawing audiences than he did about drawing beer. I believe the old gentleman, if he once more appeared in the "Spider Dance," or as Jem Baggs in the "Wandering Minstrel," would draw again. With the exception that Mr. Coppin was succeeded in the Clown Inn by Mr. Geo. Skinner, who in the same year removed himself and the name to a house at the corner of Hunter and George streets; that Mr. William Knight had become a landholder; and that John Gordon Griffiths, whose private residence was in Bligh street, had succeeded him as lessee of the theatre, the occupants of 1844 held their positions for some years after. In those days publicans and innkeepers were not "rolling stones."
In 1843 Mr. Joseph Simmons, restless when unoccupied, opened the City Theatre in Market-street, where now stands an hotel, two doors from George-street. I am not sure that it is not the actual building with a new front. Associated with Simmons in this venture was a Mr. Bellmore, of whom little is known. The theatre was opened on May 20, Nesbitt M'Cron delivering a prize address. There were three pieces staged, "The Balance of Comfort," "The Painter of Ghent," and "Magnetic Influence." The company included Knowles, Fenton, Belfield, Meredith, Phillips, Madame Goutrot, Senora Ximenes, Mrs. Wallace, and three "Misses" Jones, Taylor, and Thompson. The population was not large enough to support two playhouses, and the smaller went to the wall. For a time the "City" became an auction mart, but in the early seventies Mr. Michael Hegarty, hailing from Melbourne, came along, secured the premises, and opened them as a cafe, the attraction being the waitresses in fancy bloomer costumes. I believe the venture did pay, as Mr. Hegarty enlarged his sphere of operations and removed to the old Adelphi, in York-street, of which more anon.

Of the company performing under Mr. Simmons, one is remembered well in Sydney by the old generation — Mr. P. Belfield, better known by the sobriquet of "Paddy Belfield", though his name was Peter. Mr. Belfield was a tailor by trade, to which he reverted when he left the stage, or the stage left him. My last recollection of Mr. Belfield as an actor was when he played the King in "Hamlet" to Barry Sullivan at the old Royal, in Melbourne, when Sullivan was playing his first engagement in 1862. Truth compels me to say that I had never seen the King so played, before or since. I believe, like dear old "Paddy," Gardner, Mr. Belfield at one time appeared in Irish characters, and I am of opinion that he could play such. In the early seventies Mr. Belfield was in business as a tailor, in partnership with his son Francis, in the now Oxford-street, near the old Robin Hood Inn, between Brisbane and Edward streets. While there he conceived the idea that the Surry Hills and Woolloomooloo should be able to support a theatre of their own, and that that theatre should be "agin his own door." Negotiations were opened up with Mr. Sydney Burdekin, who granted a lease of certain vacant land in Liverpool-street, with a right of entrance from Oxford-street. The site was about midway between the old-time Blind Beggar public-house— now Andy Flanagan's — and the lane leading down to Yurong-street. The shares were £1 each, payable, I think, in shilling subscriptions. The walls got up some feet when the funds ran short, and the scheme collapsed. Sydney Burdekin seized the bricks and built a neat row of cottages on the site. Mr. Belfield subsequently started business in George-street, Brickfield Hill. "One morn I missed him on the accustomed hill," and found that he had become the lessee of the Victoria Hotel, attached to the Victoria Theatre, in Pitt-street. That was in 1878. He played the part of host for a few years, and returned to his trade, this time in Liverpool-street, a few doors from George-street, and here he made his "last stand." In 1889 he was gathered to his fathers, after an extended colonial career, varied by many ups and downs. All said and done, there were many worse men than the old Thespian, "Paddy" Belfield.

(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.)