James Smith

My editor has handed me the following very interesting and to me most gratifying letter, and which, being addressed to the editor of the 'Sportsman,' is evidently intended for publication:—

"(To the Editor of the 'Sportsman.')

“Sir, — It is usually understood, I believe, that 'dead men tell no tales,' but in this case, as in others, the exception proves the rule, for according to 'Hayseed,' the present writer of this — to quote his own words— 'died in Sydney some years ago.' Yet in spite of being so heavily handicapped by him, I will, with your permission, 'a tale unfold' in answer to articles appearing in your paper of the 10th and 17th , instant. Under the above heading, the 'Sportsman' of the 10th instant says: 'When Barry Sullivan first appeared in Melbourne he was fairly a frost. He was exceedingly needy in appearance, etc.' Now, sir, the truth is that when Barry Sullivan landed from the good ship City of Melbourne—which brought him to Australia— he, with his son, drove straight to Menzies' Hotel, then in La Trobe-street, Melbourne, where he resided for some months, and right up to his departure for Sydney. Here he stopped at the Royal, and Wilton Hall at Tattersall's, where he committed suicide ; and thereby hangs another tale. Even in those days, old man Menzies' was not in the habit of allowing anyone 'of exceedingly needy appearance' anywhere about his premises, and certainly those whose personal expenses 'never exceeded two or three pounds a week' stood not the ghost of a chance at his hotel. Barry Sullivan appeared the first seven nights in 'Hamlet' following it with 'Richelieu,' 'Richard III,' etc. There were £368 in the first night, and he finished previous to his coming here to £211. Is this the 'frost' you allude to ? Mr. W. H. Campbell's statements are all quite strange to me. Nor do I remember anyone of that name, save the young barber's assistant whom my father put into 'business' (together with a partner), the firm being afterwards pretty well known as 'Campbell and Graham.' The supper alluded to by Mr. Campbell, as being given to Jefferson and Barry Sullivan, I very well remember, but he must be dreaming, surely, when he states 'it fell to my lot to propose Mr. Sullivan's health,' and again, 'of those that made merry that night only Mr. Jefferson, Captain Johnson and myself remain to tell the tale.' Indeed, then where do I (with several more I could name) come in ? James Smith was always very bitter—he never quite forgot the long mongrel ballad published about him, which caused amusement at the time, and which he attributed to the 'Royal's manager.' The first verse I remember ran as follows :-

'I'm young man from the country, librarian I be.

Three hundred pounds and fifty more, a year they give to me ;

My place is but a sinecure, for naught have I to do.

But scribble on the theatres, and damn the actors, too.'

"That James Smith knew that he had failed to put down 'the Royal,' which he had worked so hard ' to accomplish, we have only to quote his own words : 'I have always understood that Barry Sullivan returned home with a small fortune. Quite right, Mr. Smith, he certainly did. In the 'Sportsman' of 17th instant you state that 'Miss Vandenhoff died of a broken heart,' etc. Whereas it is well known at home that consumption carried her off, after a long illness; but there is no 'romance' in consumption.

“In alluding to Miss Kyte, among other things you say : 'The lady had sailed for London a couple of days before Barry Sullivan was cheered off from Sandridge Railway Pier.' Yes, but you forgot to add that he travelled slowly, sailing from Brisbane in the s.s. Souchayo, via the Coral Seas, stopping at Java. Singapore, Calcutta, Egypt, etc., and taking altogether, over six months to reach England.— I am, sir, yours, etc., AMORY SULLIVAN.

"(son, and for 25 years Barry Sullivan's manager), late acting-manager and treasurer of Theatres Royal, Melbourne, Sydney, etc."

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I won't make any apology for "killing" Mr. Amory Sullivan, as it has brought forth such an interesting and instructive letter; but I may say that a few months after Mr. Amory Sullivan's connection with the Theatre Royal, Sydney, ceased, I read with much regret, in a Sydney newspaper, of his death somewhere in Queensland. I believe I have the "cutting" still, and will hunt it up. Needless to say I am much gratified that Mr Amory Sullivan is still in the land of the living ; not to tell tales, but to establish facts. Now, I did not say that Mr. Amory Sullivan died in Sydney. If that gentleman will look up the "Sportsman" of August 10 he will find that my words were, "The later, now dead, was in Sydney a few years ago." Again my words are : "He was exceedingly seedy in appearance." Not 'needy,' Mr. Amory. My opening paragraph on the 10th fully explains why I consider Mr. Sullivan's ,early appearance in Melbourne a ''frost." The fact of there being £368 in the old Theatre Royal on Mr. Sullivan's first night, and £211 on his farewell performance proves, I think, that there was a falling off, my friend ! As I pointed out, the Australian stage was languishing for a star after Brooke left. But money taken at the doors does not make the stage representation brilliant and no one knows that better than Mr. Amory Sullivan.

I am not prepared to fall in with the opinion that the hotel of Archibald Menzies, in Latrobe-street, Melbourne, stood in the front rank. It was in a third-rate neighbourhood, stood a good distance off the street, and was hemmed in by stone buildings which were flush with the alignment line, and had a somewhat dingy appearance. But I will admit that it was a much better stamp of house than the Hope tavern, a dingy two-storied pub which stood on the corner of York-street and Barrack-lane (S.W.), or the Star Hotel, George-street North, Sydney, both of which Mr. Menzies kept before he went to Melbourne. Mr. Menzies left Latrobe-street in the mid-sixties, and built the present Menzies' Hotel at the corner of Bourke and William streets, a house deservedly holding a world-wide reputation.

If Mr Amory Sullivan will look up W. J. Lawrence's biography of his father, published 1893 by W. and G. Baird, 62 Ludgate Hill, E. C., London, he will see a long quotation from a letter of Mr. W. H. Campbell. And let me here interpolate something about Mr. Amory Sullivan's somewhat ungenerous allusion to the ''young barber's assistant of that name whom my father put into business;'' etc, The young barber's assistant" was Mr. John Campbell, who, when Barry Sullivan arrived in Melbourne, was managing the large business carried on by Mr. Bennett next door to the Theatre Royal, Bourke-street East. Mr. Bennett certainly did hairdress and shave, but his main business was that of a theatrical wigmaker and costumier, and Mr. John Campbell and his subsquent partner, Graham, were wigmakers, and I have no doubt, made many wigs for Mr. Barry Sullivan. The two —Campbell and Graham— left Bennett's service and opened for themselves in Swanston-street, and Mr. Barry Sullivan patronised them there, but that he set them up in business I very much doubt. John Campbell, to my certain knowledge, had private property, and I don't think Mr. Graham was without means. Anyhow, from poor Bennett's weakness for strong drinks, and his general neglect of business, the clientele followed Campbell and Graham. After a while Mr. Campbell sold out to his partner, and travelled, like Artemus Ward, with "wax figgurs," Mr. Campbell being himself the maker of the figures. While managing Mr. Bennett's business Mr. Campbell did all the artistic work in Madame Sohier's waxworks exhibition— not bad for a "young barber's assistant.'' Mr. Campbell travelled Tasmania with his 'wax figgurs,' and on reaching Sydney opened his show in Pitt-street in one of Uther's old buildings, where now stands the Imperial Arcade. William Caffyn, cricketer and hairdresser, then in business in George-street, near Elvy's (1871), wanted to go to England, and John Campbell bought him out. Campbell then sold the waxworks show to Johnny Gourlay, the Scotch comedian, and therein hangs another tale. Mr. John Campbell remained some years in George-street, and made money , enough to retire in dignified ease to the suburb of Burwood, Sydney, or at least he lived there— and may still—until he lost his energetic little wife some months ago. Mr. Amory Sullivan will have no difficulty, I think, in interviewing, the "young assistant barber, "John Campbell, any day in the reading room of the School of Arts, or at, I believe, his house in Burwood.

And here it may not be out of place to mention, re W. H. Campbell, that, though the supper was given to Messrs. Sullivan and Jefferson, and while these no doubt great actors have played together and met on and off the stage, I don't think Jefferson in his autobiography makes any mention of Barry Sullivan ! Mr. James Smith is still alive, and well able to take his own part in any controversy re theatricals in Melbourne in the early sixties. I prefer to make no further allusion to the ladies mentioned further than this : Miss Kyte's departure was a "nine days wonder," why she went being best known to herself and her family. Her mother (is it a coincidence?) died last week in Melbourne at a great age. Miss Vandenhoff's illness, perhaps, had nothing to do with the allegation that Mr. Barry Sullivan had neglected her, and that his name was tabooed in the Vandenhoff family. Notwithstanding her "consumption," she might have had a broken heart. Anyhow, Mr. Barry Sullivan's name is not mentioned in George Vandenhoff's book. Again allow me to express my gratification that the curtain has not yet been rung down on Mr. Amory Sullivan.

A still-existing link between the drama of the fifties and the stage of to-day is Dr. James Edward Neild, who under a variety of pen names, has been writing in the interests of the theatre and the public for half a century. Born 80 years ago in the horsey town of Doncaster in Yorkshire, but descended from an Irish family who emigrated into England in 1642, James Edward Neild received his early education in Leeds, and in 1843 went to Sheffield to an uncle, a surgeon in large practice, and was apprenticed to him for five years. Subsequently he completed his medical studies in London at University College. He passed his examination in 1848, and thereby was privileged to add the letters L.S.A. after his name. For two years he practised his profession at Oulton, near Leeds, and was for three years house surgeon of the Rochdale General Dispensary.

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In 1853 he came to Melbourne on a visit, but was so taken up with that city, then in its 'roaring days,' that he decided to remain. He for a time abandoned the practice of his profession, and entered into business as a chemist and druggist with Mr. D. R. Long, the establishment being at the corner of Bourke and Stephen streets, the latter better known now as Exhibition-street. In 1857 he married the daughter of his partner, and for many years the firm of Long and Neild flourished in the pills and poultices line. But Dr. Neild had always a desire to be numbered amongst the fraternity popularly known as 'ink-slingers,' and in 1855 became one of the staff of the 'Age,' just then founded by a commonwealth of compositors. As a reporter Dr. Neild did the usual routine work of a morning journal, and when he ceased to be a reporter he became a contributor of theatrical notices to the paper. In 1856 a very readable publication appeared, printed by Shaw, Harnett and Co., owned and edited by Mr. T. L. Bright, and khown as 'My Notebook.' For this highly intellectual publication Dr. Neild was engaged to write dramatic notices. Some brilliant articles appeared, but 'My Notebook' ran its course in about a year ; a purely literary venture having 'no show' in those days. In 1856 there was a daily and a weekly 'Argus,' the latter being merely a resume of the week's news. In 1857 Mr. Edward Wilson issued the 'Examiner' from the 'Argus' office, Mr. T. L.

Bright being its first editor, and for two years Dr. Neild contributed to its columns a weekly article on the theatres, under the nom-de-plume 'Christopher Sly,' heading the articles with the transformed tinker's very happy expression :

'Let the world slip, we shall ne'er be younge.'

Mr. Wilson also issued another journal, in the interests of the squatting and farming classes, 'The Yeoman.' Eventually, in 1864, 'The Examiner,' 'The Yeoman,' and 'The Weekly Argus' were blended, and produced 'The Australasian.' For this latter journal, under the pen name 'Jacques,' and subsequently as 'Tahiti' and '***', Dr Neild praised and slated theatrical performances for years. He became a contributor to Melbourne 'Punch,' amongst other journals, notwithstanding his multifarious, duties as a critic, a lecturer in medicine at the University, editor ot the 'Australian Medical Journal,' and a general medical practitioner, Dr. Neild found time to write two comediettas, which were successfully staged.

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In 1855 Dr. Neild, with R. H. Horne ( 'Orion'), James Smith, John Edwards, Tom Pavey, the two Henninghams, and a few other choice spirits assembled in the 'eating house' in Elizabeth-street, Melbourne, known as Williams' dining rooms and founded the Melbourne Garrick Club. Subsequent meetings were held at Kelly's 'Argus' Hotel, next 'The Argus' office. Dr. J . E. Neild was chosen the first secretary, and held the office for some years. He also took part in some of the earlier performances of the club, chiefly in characters bordering on low comedy.

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It is, however, as a dramatic critic that we have to deal with the genial little doctor. In this character he had the reputation of being a hard hitter, and at times he hit so hard that he earned reprisals. One noteworthy one is in my memory at this moment. In 1858 Professor Anderson, 'The Wizard of the North,' appeared in Melbourne. None of the present generation remember this gentleman— a big, bony, braw Scot, who was born at Kincardine in 1814. Anderson's life was a series of ups and downs. In his time he played many parts. The love of the life of a strolling player early led him to the boards. During his early travels it is said that he was brought into contact with Signor Bletz, the cleverest magician of his time. New ideas entered the mind of young Anderson ; he saw, watched, and set himself to unravel the mystery of the Signor's tricks. In a short time he gave a 'magic' entertainment in Aberdeen, and met with success far beyond his expectations. Every performance of a new trick urged him on, and presently he assumed the 'nom de stage' 'The Wizard of the North,' and commenced to make for himself a name. He made a tour of Scotland, and made the acquaintance of M. Phillipe, who was as celebrated in France as Anderson was in Scotland. By great study and hard work Anderson became a great magician , constructing, even at the expense of his daily meals, the best apparatus his means would allow him, and devoting his inventive genius to new tricks. We are told that vicissitudes, struggles, hardships, and continuous, labor made up this portion of the Wizard's career. After a second tour through Scotland, Anderson worked his way into the northern and midland counties of England. After a long season in Yorkshire he proceeded to Hamburg, Sweden, Norway and Denmark. After successful visits to the several towns on the Baltic, he reached St. Petersburg, and obtained the personal patronage of the Emperor Nicholas. He remained some months in the Russian capital, earning considerable sums of money. After a tour through Russia he returned to England, via Berlin and Vienna. Shortly after his return home he appeared by command at Balmoral. In 1851 he went to America, and made a tour of the entire Union from Maine to California, and from St. Lawrence to the head of the Mississippi. His profits were great, clearly indicating his success as a magician. He then returned to England, and appeared at several of the West End theatres. His big success, however, was at the Lyceum, in the Strand. Finding this house too small to accommodate the audiences that assembled, he took Covent Garden Theatre, and there appeared in a series of dramatic parts, including , 'Rob Roy,' William' in 'Black Eyed Susan,' Rolla and other characters. On March 15, 1856, the season at Covent Garden was about to close with a performance commenced an hour after noon and continued during the afternoon until midnight, when the entire entertainment was to finish up with a masquerade. While the latter was proceeding, on the morning of the 16th, the house took fire, and in a few hours was reduced to a heap of ruins. By this calamity Anderson not only lost money, but he lost his entire apparatus, the accumulation of many years. Soon after this the Royal British Bank, in which he had invested his savings, smashed. Anderson was not, however, disheartened. He looked abroad to right himself. A most liberal offer, was made him by Mr. George Coppin, which , was accepted, resulting in his visit to Australia, engineered by Mr. E. P. Hingston. He made his first appearance at the Theatre Royal, Melbourne, in June, 1858. The management erected a platform from the opposite side of the stage, in front of the dress-circle, to the prompt side, which enabled the wizard to exhibit his

tricks and magic to the occupants of the circle when occasion required. His success in Melbourne was great. Not only did he draw full houses as a magician, but his dramatic representations drew large audiences. I saw him play Rob Roy, Bailie Nicol Jarvie, Jock Houison, Dandle Dinmont, and many other Scotch characters, which, notwithstanding a lumbering gait, he played well. In characters requiring pure English he was a failure, and he knew it. After his Australian tour, Anderson visited California, India, China, Japan, Ceylon, the Sandwich Islands, West Indies, and South America. He then returned to England through America, losing a lot of his earnings through the Civil War. On his arrival in England he found himself again nearly stranded ; but, not disheartened, he again put his shoulder to the wheel, and gradually began to gather the fruits of his industry. He was now in very indifferent health, and had suffered greatly. His death took place at Darlington, in February, 1874, at the age of 60 years. His last public appearance was made in the town where he died, on January 29, where he played his last trick— that of firing a banknote from a pistol and lodging it in a candle. There was a peculiar coincidence in connection with this trick. The father of the local correspondent of a London journal furnished the material for Anderson's first trick, when a pupil, the correspondent, himself furnishing the note for the professor's last trick.

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Dr. Neild did not take kindly to Professor Anderson,' 'Christopher Sly' dubbed the Wizard of the North, a clumsy charlatan, and applied many other unfriendly epithets. The criticism, however, did not effect the attendance at the Royal, but a night came when Anderson had his revenge. 'Christopher Sly' was in the dress circle one night, when the professor ascended the staging, and standing right in front of the critic gave him a terrible 'tongue thrashing.' Neild sat it out, and when fairly tired Anderson returned to the stage and continued the performance.

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Mr. E. P. Hingston became famous as the agent of Artemus Ward, and as the manager of Messrs. Spiers and Pond's ‘Hall by the Sea,' at Ramsgate. His brother, James Hingston, recently deceased, was well known in Melbourne as a Bohemian of the wealthy order. Later on he travelled, and published his experience under the title of the 'Australian Abroad.' I met James Hingston a few months before his death, in Pitt-street, when he told me that he had learned the secret of being able to travel without baggage. James went home a couple of years ago for medical advice, but he was past medical remedies, and died of cancer. By his will he left something like £20,000 to the Melbourne Benevolent Asylum to erect a one-storied building for aged men, as, when a member of the Asylum committee he was always pained to see aged, gouty, and rheumatic men struggling up four stories of the dormitories. Pity Mr. Hingston did not give the ancients in the asylum the benefit of his money during his lifetime, as I understand there is some hitch in the will which so far has prevented the erection of the building.

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It was while Mr. Hingston was in Melbourne as agent for 'The Wizard,' Anderson, that a great transformation took place in the appearance of the front of the old Theatre Royal. The approaches to the upper circle, stalls, and pit were open to the general public, and became a lounge for all the deadbeats and town loafers, who congregated nightly in the hall. Mr. Hingston suggested that the hall should be a means of revenue to the proprietors of the theatre, and a source of comfort to theatre-goers. Accordingly, the place was renovated and decorated in superior style. A gallery of pictures, all Australian subjects, by 'S.T.G.' and other well-known artists of the day was secured, and the walls decorated therewith. Where are those pictures now ? They are invaluable, in whosoever's hands they may be. Natty little tables were dotted about the place, active waiters in snow white jackets introduced coffee for teetotalers, and liquors of all types for others. The place was named 'The Vestibule,' and a six penny refreshment ticket admitted the in dividual beyond the portals. The theatre ticket, of course, admitted the playgoer. The hitherto frowsy bars on both sides of the vestibule also underwent a complete change; the Hebes, dressed in black silks, and the pick of the profession at that, attended to the wants of the Johnnies of the day. It was the Hingstonian change, and the success attending Spiers and Pond's introduction of the first English eleven that laid the foundations of the fortunes of the firm, a success which culminated in the present gigantic English firm of Spiers and Pond, Limited. The Melbourne firm presented Mr. Hingston with a very handsome and valuable finger ring as a souvenir of his happy suggestion.

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Dr. Neild's pen helped him into a scrape with the robustious Thomas Padmore Hill, the elocutionist. This time, however, the pen was used in a private matter, though the assault arising out of it occurred in the vicinity of the dress circle of the Theatre Royal. The occurrence took place on December 21, 1876. For ; twelve months previous Dr. Neild had been attending Mr. Hill's family professionally at Mr. Hill's own request, and had never charged any fee. The doctor was extremely generous in this way to all members of the profession, the humblest member of which could always rely upon medical aid in case of necessity. Parenthetically, it may be said that Dr. L. L. Smith, son of a former lessee of Drury Lane Theatre, was equally generous in a similar direction. To Dr. Neild Mr. Hill had repeatedly expressed his gratitude for the valuable services rendered. Hill asserted that Neild had insulted his wife, but the accusation had not the slightest foundation. On the night in question Dr. Neild , was at the theatre with a party of ladies. When coming out after the performance Hill went up to him and said, 'I want to speak to you ; I am going to bring you before the public.' Neild replied, 'I cannot speak to you now ; I have some ladies with me.' Hill became very much excited, and offensive in his language, when the doctor told him to go to the devil. (Hill had had frequent interviews that evening with 'James Hennessy') Hill then struck the doctor in the face and cut his lip. A ticket collector interfered, and Neild got the ladies into the dressing room. Hill then went into the centre of the lobby, and roared out, 'That is Dr. Neild! He's a damned scoundrel ! He insulted my wife. I'll show you up, sir! I have got your letters!' The lobby was full of people coming out of the dress circle. Neild said, 'The man is drunk : it's a pity there are no means of giving him in charge.' Neild then went downstairs with the ladies, and on entering a wagonette Hill again went up and said, 'I have slapped your face, sir, and I'll do more.'

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The outcome of the assault was an appearance at the police court, when Dr. Neild swore that he had never insulted Mrs. Hill; he had been her medical attendant. A correspondence afterwards took place between Mr. and Mrs. Hill and Dr. Neild. The latter informed Hill as to the nature of his wife's correspondence. Mrs. Hill had separated from her husband, and lived in lodgings at Jolimont. There Dr. Neild was called in to see Mrs. Hill. Hill was not present, but the doctor sent for him, as Mrs. Hill was laboring under very great nervous excitement. Hill came at noon, much annoyed at being sent for, as he said he could do nothing for his wife. The doctor offered to prescribe for her, but she refused medicine. Hill's presence seemed to further excite the wife, and she left the premises. Hill and Neild followed her down the road towards the Yarra, but lost sight of her. She was subsequently found by the police on the road leading to Richmond, and was brought back to her lodgings. Mrs. Hill had previously been in communication with Dr. Neild, as to her literary abilities, and the doctor had spoken to Mr. Hill about it. Mrs. Hill, living apart from her husband at Emerald Hill, had received letters from Dr. Neild, but they appear to have been of a purely friendly character, though they did commence 'Chere' Amie,' and ended 'Yours always.' In the course of the hearing at the police court, Dr. Neild admitted that five years previously he had applied to have Mr. Le Roy bound over to keep the peace. Le Roy had threatened the doctor with personal chastisement on account, of something disparaging written about Le Roy's Wife, known as Madame Duret on the stage—the same who, I think, first introduced the 'Octoroon', to the Australian public. The Neild v. Hill police court case ended in the police magistrate, Mr. Call, inducing Hill to apologise and pay three guineas costs, the latter going into the pocket of 'Jack' Edwards, Dr. Neild's old Garrick Club crony, who appeared to conduct the case against Hill.

(To be continued:)

Some controversy has been carried on in the Sydney papers respecting the tercentenary celebration at Melbourne of Shakespeare's birth, and, strange to say, the 'authorities' differ. As a matter of fact, some years before the date of the centenary, April 23, 1864, the Melbourne Garrick Club had made arrangements to celebrate the occasion with a performance of "The Merchant of Venice," introduced by the Introduction to the 'Taming of the Shrew,' and, sandwiched, a tableau of Shakespearian characters. The Garrick Club was founded in 1855 by some enthusiastic amateur actors, who were anxious to fret their little hour upon the stage for charitable purposes.

Amongst the founders of the club were James Smith (of the 'Argus'), James E. Neild, M.D., and W. J. Wilson, a scenic artist of much dramatic ability, all three, l am gratified to say, still living. Then, as president, there was R. H. Horne, better, perhaps, known as 'Orion' Horne, from the fact that he wrote a poem under that title, which was published in London at the extraordinary price of a farthing. There was Tom Pavey, the solicitor, who acted for all thespians when they had any legal matters on hand, John Edwards, the younger, who was articled to John Barter Bennett, the solicitor, Alfred Bliss, of Bliss and Joy (what a combination!), auctioneers. - There was J. B. Castieau, who had been in the service of the Government as ruler at the Melbourne Gaol, and a score of others, more or less Bohemian. The first performance was given at the Theatre Royal, under the patronage of Governor Sir Charles Hotham, who had with him in his private box the Colonial Auditor-General, Mr. Grimes, a pompous individual, who was given the appointment through his aristocratic connections, notwithstanding his plebeian name. The piece chosen was "The Heir at Law,” John Edwards performing Dr. Pangloss. It will be remembered that Pangloss has a catch phrase, naming the author whom he quotes. At that time the Victorian finances were in somewhat of a muddle, and when Edwards, as Pangloss, should have said, "Two and two are four, 'Cocker,'" Edwards said "Take 3 from 6 and 5 remains, Grimes," which so offended the Auditor-General that he left the theatre, though asked by Sir Charles Hotham to remain.

Poor Jack Edwards was a thorough Bohemian, a native of Tasmania, to which I believe his father, also a solicitor, was sent for something connected with Chartism. Articled to John Barter Bennett, the latter always patronised the Garrick Club performances, but a time came when he was called upon to put the question very straight to young Edwards, as to which profession he would adopt, that of law or the stage, “For you know, Edwards that you cannot follow both.” Jack chose the law, though he did not abandon the amateur stage.

This erratic individual was born in 1836, at Launceston, and educated by two clergymen, one of whom, Mr. Trollope, had been head master of Christ's Hospital, and started the first collegiate school in Victoria. Edwards was brought to Port Philip when a child and, after schooling, was articled first to Mr. Trenchard, whose son was a suitor for the hand of enchanting Julia Mathews at the same time that R. O'Hara Burke, the explorer was urging his suit. Julia however wedded neither, though I have her own word for it that she would have married Burke had he returned. O'Hara Burke was dead then, and his name was a good advertisement for the gentle, guileless Julia. She wore his picture in miniature and contrived to lose it one Sunday afternoon in the Botanical Gardens.

Edwards was transferred to Mr. Bennett, and had charge of the Common Law department; but, as mentioned, he was more frequently to be found, behind the scenes of the Theatre Royal than at the County Court; which was supposed to be his happy hunting ground. He was admitted a solicitor in 1858 and entered Parliament in 1859, being known as the 'Collingwood Chicken' and the 'Native Companion.' He had as colleagues the late Charles Jardine Don, a stonemason, and the first Labor member ever returned to Parliament, and George Milner Stephen; brother of Sir Alfred Stephen, and the gentleman who afterwards posed as a faith healer. Mr. Edwards was high up in Masonry, very, open-handed and good-hearted, too much so for his own good.

The writer was associated him once in a dramatic performance in aid of the fund being raised for a memorial to G. V. Brooke. The play was the “Poor Gentleman,” Edwards being the Dr. Ollapod, and this scribe Sir Robert Bramble. On the morning of the performance Mr. Edwards sent for me. He had been to Sandhurst a couple of days before, performing for the same object, and had caught a cold, and a bad one. He was in bed, with old Dr. Serrell alongside, and a blister as big as a blanket on his chest. To play that night was out of the question. I was commissioned to interview Mr. William Hoskins, erstwhile of Sadler’s Wells Theatre, and who was the lessee of the old Princess', in Spring-street, where we were to play. Hoskins had the Royal at the same time; it was at the latter house that I saw him, in the 'treasury,' as the ramshackle office was called. I have seen men out of temper in my time, but I have not as yet come across one who equalled William Hoskins on that morning. You see, we 'shared the house' after a certain sum— £60, I think— was deducted for rent. Mr. Hoskins was afraid that the public would get wind of Mr. Edwards' illness, and the receipts would suffer. Hoskins was the best player of such characters as Ollapod and Dr. Pangloss that I have ever seen. Of course he had to fill the gap, and right well he did it. Dr. J. E. Neild was entrusted with the apology for Edwards. The little doctor was never subject to stage fright, but in making the apology he led the audience to believe that John was suffering a recovery, or something of the sort. 

But when Dr. Neild announced that Mr. Hoskins was to be the Ollapod of the night the cheers nearly raised the roof. Like Marcus Clarke, Mick Maloney, and a few of that kidney, John Edwards' Bohemianism shortened his days.

The Shakespeare memorial, which has been the subject of some controversy recently, was started by Barry Sullivan, with the object, of purchasing a statue which the sculptor Summers was preparing. Sullivan was the moving spirit in the statue enterprise, while G. W. Rusden, the Clerk of the Parliaments, favoured a scholarship at the University. The statue was cast in plaster, and was to cost £1000. The plaster cast was unveiled by Barry Sullivan on the steps of the Public Library, where now stands the statue of Sir Redmond Barry. The statue was never cast, the funds not coming in fast enough, the subscriptions being returned by the treasurer, Frederick Wilkinson, Master in Equity.

The scholarship fared better. Mr. Rusden got up a dramatic performance of the “Merchant of Venice,” the parts being taken by members of Parliament, Mr. George Coppin, M.L.C., the father now of the Australian stage, being the Launcelot Gobbo. Another old actor, though long retired, Mark Last King - on the stage Moreton King—was the Shylock. Few Sydney people today remember Moreton King, though he played in the old Victoria Theatre, in Pitt Street and was considered a great star. A prologue was written by Mr. G. W. Rusden and spoken by Mr. J. D. Wood, the barrister, who has recently returned to his native land (Tasmania) to end his days. Vincent Pyke, at one time Minister for Customs under Sir James M'Culloch, wrote and spoke a very smart epilogue. Mr. Pyke afterwards, betook himself to Maoriland, where he loomed big in politics and Bohemianism. The Garrick Club played “The Merchant of Venice” on the evening before the date, April 23, of the tercentenary, Samuel Hawker Banks, a Sydney native and well-known literary man, being the Shylock. On that night, for the first time in Australia, and I think the only time, the introduction to the “Taming of the Shrew” was performed. Herbert Palmer, afterwards on the literary staff of the 'Age,' being the Christopher Sly. The tableau of Shakespearian characters was centred by the late William Pitt, the well-known scenic artist, who was always pressed into the service when a bust of Shakespeare was needed. In addition to his scenic art, Mr. Pitt kept the Garrick's Head Hotel, in Bourke-street, opposite the Eastern Markets, and where, by the way, I first made the acquaintance of the now Mrs. H. L. Roberts, of the Criterion, but then the favourite of Melbourne, and known as Miss Polly Smith. In Mr. Pitt's cellar, not the one where he kept the casks, but another, quite distinct, were nursed some of the finest sporting dogs I have ever seen, dogs that would charm my valued correspondent, the Hon. Thomas Reibey of Entally. The well-known theatre architect and M.L.C. (Victoria) is the son of this Mr. William Pitt, of the Garrick's Head. 

The Shakespearian performance which has given rise to the commentary was that given by Mr. Harry Edwards (whom some old Sydneyites will yet remember; he was with us not long before his death, when he bought 'Little Lord Fauntleroy') at Ballarat, which was then the home of the drama, though I am afraid it is not now. But all the dramatic efforts to make a Shakespearian jubilee failed, with the single exception of the Rusden Scholarship, and it is very questionable now if the memorial to the 'divine William' is remembered.

As Mr. Amory Sullivan ('Sportsman,' 7/9/'04) is evidently unacquainted with Mr. W. H. Campbell, I may be permitted to quote the latter gentleman's letter to Mr. Lawrence, Mr. Barry Sullivan's biographer, in full. There is nothing uncomplimentary to the great actor in the letter, and I cannot conceive that Mr. W. H. Campbell can be an impostor, though Mr. Amory Sullivan fails to remember him.

Thus the biographer : "His (Barry Sullivan's) success was by no means assured at the outset, however, as the colonial players were not sufficiently off with the old love to be on with the new. In other words, they still retained wistful yearnings towards the prodigal who was fated

never to return. But Sullivan was not of that fibre to become disheartened under momentary coldness. It was an up-hill fight, but he conquered by sheer tenacity and strength of will.

"Mr. W. H. Campbell, a prosperous Ulster man, at present (1893) residing in San Francisco, writes as follows in an interesting communication to the author:

— 'I frequently met and was very well acquainted with both G. V. Brooke and Barry Sullivan during the golden early days of Victoria, better known then as Port Phillip, the Australia Felix of the veteran pioneer John Pascoe Fawkner. Brooke was undoubtedly the most popular actor who ever set foot in the colonies, but he left for good before Sullivan's arrival there. The contrast between the two men, Irishmen as they were, was very striking. Brooke was good-natured, convivial, careless, and had moments of supreme inspiration. Sullivan, on the other hand, was practical, abstemious, methodical. He was for the most part painfully aware of his importance, had immense vim, aimed high, and succeeded in reaching the grand goal of his ambition."

" 'The days when genteel comedy was at its best in Melbourne found Sullivan, with Joe Jefferson, Fanny Cathcart, Heir, and a galaxy of lesser talent playing at the Princess'. I think they opened in 'Money;' Barry as Evelyn, Jefferson as Graves. A little supper was tendered those gentlemen and the two captains commanding the ships which brought them out to Australia. Of those that made merry that night only Mr. Jefferson, Captain D. H. Johnson, R.N.R., and myself remain to tell the tale. H. B. Donaldson, Sandridge, was there, and my fellow survivors doubtless remember how he and the genial C. L. Throckmorton went through the farcical ceremony of marrying the landlord's daughter over the broomstick for the special entertainment of our theatrical guests."

" 'It fell to my lot to propose Mr. Sullivan's health, and in doing so I alluded to a keen, fussy controversy then going on in the newspapers over a dispute between the tragedian and the management of the Royal, in which the ladies of the company were involved, owing to Sullivan's methods in regard to them being at variance with those formerly practised. My endeavor was to throw oil upon the troubled waters, and bring the unhappy dispute to an end, so I ventured to suggest to our friend the desirability of compromise, or such concession as

might please the ladies and satisfy popular clamor and prejudice."

" 'Jumping up, the tragedian replied in these characteristic words : "Do you think, sir," addressing me personally, "that I will concede ? No, sir ! Never, sir ! Never for a moment, sir ! Do you mean to say that I, Barry Sullivan, must stoop to the people of Melbourne ? No, sir! Far from it. I'll bring them up to me !" And he carried out his point, as he always did, by sheer pluck, energy and 'go.' "

" 'Though very abstemious, Mr. Sullivan was not a total abstainer. I, on many occasions, supped with him at Spiers and Pond's Cafe Royal, when he invariably partook of a broiled steak or chop, accompanied by a pint or half a pint of Guinness' Dublin porter. He was fond of praise, - though impatient of adverse criticism. 'Did you see my Don Caesar ?' he asked me on the street one day, after the production of 'Don Caesar de Bazan.' He fished for a compliment, and received a well-merited one.' "

Mr. W. H. Campbell renewed his acquaintance with Mr. Barry Sullivan, in San Francisco, early in 1876, whither he had gone to open the new Baldwin Theatre. Thus Mr. Campbell anent this interview : "Strolling up Market-street one afternoon I met Barry Sullivan, who invited me into the Baldwin Theatre, where a rehearsal was going on. As we chatted quietly in the back stalls his quick ear detected some mistake in the recital of the piece. 'What's that? What's that ? Horrible. That will never do, never do,' he muttered. Then he called out lustily, 'Stop ! stop ! Hold on, will you, there?' Like a flash he left my side, bounding over seats, footlights, and every impediment, and was on the stage amidst the performers before I could realise what was the matter. A good deal of his financial success he attributed, by the way, to his son, Mr. T. S. Amory Sullivan, whom he described to me as a very capable business man, who attended closely to details."

Surely Mr. Amory Sullivan must remember this Mr. W. H. Campbell.

In 1885 there appeared a pamphlet entitled, 'The Truth About the Stage.' It created some sensation owing tp its extreme pessimism, and was attributed to the late Hal Louther. In the pamphlet is the paragraph : "My own experience of this eminent tragedian (Sullivan) contrasted agreeably with the lying reports of my stage companions. If I had been fortunate enough to meet Mr. Sullivan at the commencement of my career, I should have been saved many years of toil and degradation. .... I have known his finest dramatic situations ruined by young actors who, through nervousness, have either forgotten some particular piece of business, or failed to give the proper cue. At the end of the act, when some poor fellow had gone to the tragedian's dressing-room to apologise for his shortcomings, instead of black looks and a curse; he received kind words of encouragement. On one occasion, when a persevering young actor ruined a grand scene in a Shakespearian play , I heard Mr. Sullivan interrupt his apology, when the curtain fell, with the following words : 'My dear boy, you did your best. You were a little nervous. You will do better next time.' "

Barry Sullivan's biographer says :— "It is satisfactory to find that Mr. W. H. Campbell's personal estimate of the Sullivan of the sixties agrees in the main with the impression left upon the mind of Mr. James Smith, the Nestor of Australian dramatic critics, who has now been associated with the fortunes of the 'Argus' for fully 40 years.' (This was written in 1893.) In a communication to the author, written some 12 months ago, apropos of our hero's career in the colonies, this accomplished journalist says, inter alia : 'As a man I did not like him. He was hard, cold and repellent, and his vanity amounted to a disease. He seriously believed that the British stage had produced only three great actors— David Garrick, W. C. Macready, and himself. His self-love was as irritable as it was irritating, and his jealousy of other actors was almost childish. I could never detect any of the fire of genius in his performances; he possessed great talent and that 'infinite capacity for taking pains' which come very near genius. Short of that, he was one of the best all-round actors I ever saw, equally good in tragedy, comedy, Irish drama and farce. He was, also, an admirable, manager. He was master of all the duties and details connected with a theatre, from those of the call boy upwards. He was very frugal, perhaps penurious. For instance, he would see that no candle ends were wasted behind the scenes. And no doubt he was in the right, for colonials are naturally wasteful and unthrifty; and poor Brooke's loss of the fortune he had made here was in part attributable to his carelessness and toleration of extravagance and pillage in his subordinates. In spite of his jealousy. Barry Sullivan, while managing the Theatre Royal in this city (Melbourne), surrounded himself with an excellent stock company — such a company, indeed, as could not be organised now — a company scarcely less complete and efficient than Daly's. Every piece he produced was handsomely mounted, thoroughly rehearsed, and effectually played, and I have always understood that he went home with a small fortune. I do not suppose his personal expenses ever exceeded £2 or £3 a week. His temper was as vile as Macready's without being conscious of and penitent for it, as that actor was. I wrote an advance criticism of some performance of Sullivan's, and a day or two afterwards I got into the compartment of a railway carriage on a suburban line, when he opened out upon me in a torrent of vulgar abuse in the presence of half a dozen other occupants of the compartment. His object was evidently to provoke me to strike him. But I preserved my own self-control, and ironically complimented him on his gentlemanly conduct and demeanor ; and he looked and acted like a man possessed by an evil spirit. Only a few months bfore he had dined at my house in company with Joseph Jefferson and Sir Charles Gavan Duffy. "

''Sullivan's reign at the Theatre Royal, Melbourne, was certainly not the least brilliant episode in the history of that theatre. He was one of the most hard working of managers and actors. He never spared himself, and he did not spare others. Indeed, he could not have succeeded or have fulfilled his duty to the public had he been indulgent or remiss. There was a good deal of person al magnetism in the man ; he could be almost winsome in his manners, but you felt that it was the attractiveness of the 'well-graced actor.' "

Mr. Amory Sullivan will admit that this is not a biased opinion given by one whom Mr. Amory Sullivan conceives was prejudiced against his father.

In connection with the name of Mr. W. C. Macready, I may mention that while Mr. Barry Sullivan was at the heyday of his success in the management of the Royal, a son of W. C. Macready turned up in Melbourne. The young man had been an officer in the army in India, led a fast life, left the army, and became stranded in the City by the Yarra. He appealed to Sullivan, and that gentleman gave him a ''show.' Young Macready appeared for two nights as Captain Absolute, in the ''Rivals." The piece was well mounted, and the support excellent. I saw the actor's debut. In face and figure he recalled the picture of his father, but there all comparison ended. He preached, mouthed and ranted by turns. There was an excellent house the first night, but on the second night a half-filled house ended Mr. Macready's engagement. He got lower in the social scale, and dropped to the grade of "a super," content to carry on a banner. Finally he left the stage in awful disgrace. I forget which Melbourne theatre he was at at the time, but in a state of delirium tremens be appeared among the company one night in a state of nudity. A blanket was thrown over the unfortunate man, he was removed, and the stage door barred against him in the future. I forget what became of him.

Mr. James Smith, "the Nestor of Australian dramatic critics," was born near Maidstone, in the county of Kent, and took to literary pursuits before he was out of his teens. He contributed occasionally to London "Punch," which brought him into contact with Douglas Jerrold, with whom he was associated in the "Illuminated Magazine," for which he wrote regularly. At the age of 20 he was editor of a country newspaper, and a year or two later had the chair of the Salisbury "Journal." This post he held from 1849 to 1854, in which latter year he came to Australia. In 1856 he joined the "Argus" staff as leader-writer, fine art and dramatic critic, and has been almost uninterruptedly connected with that paper ever since. He it was who advocated the institution of a National Gallery, and was one of the founders and the second editor of Melbourne "Punch." He was also editor of the "Evening Mail," the first afternoon paper published in Melbourne. From 1863 to 1868 he was Librarian at the Parliament Houses, an appointment conferred upon him by, I believe, the late Sir John O'Shannassy. His appointment created some jealousy, and one or two members, notably William Fraser, of Creswick, took exception to his appointment. Without doubt Mr. James Smith contributed to the newspapers while Parliamentary Librarian, but I doubt if he slated the actors as Mr. Amory Sullivan's quoted doggerel suggests. While Mr. Smith was Librarian he remodelled, classified and catalogued the library. He has lectured in public for 40 odd years, and in 1860 wrote and staged a drama entitled "Garabaldi." It was produced at the Prince of Wales' Theatre in Lonsdale-street — the same old building known in the early fifties as Rowe's Hippodrome, and later on as the Lyceum, when the Marsh Troupe occupied it, and yet again the Prince of Wales Theatre, when Richard Younge was stage manager, and M'Kean Buchanan, the spluttering American tragedian, was the star. To be just to Mr. Buchanan, there was one character in which he was in comparable— Sir Harcourt Courtly in Boucicault's "London Assurance." Mr. Smith also produced a successful farce —" A Broil at the Cafe" — the scene of which was laid at Spiers and Pond's Cafe de Paris, the piece being produced at the Royal. Mr. Smith has been a prolific writer, and a well read one. G. V. Brooke and James Smith were bound together by strong personal ties, and when Brooke, having made his final appearance at the Royal, was induced to give a short series of readings at the Old Exhibition Building, in William street, James Smith and Mr. and Mrs. Robert Heir assisted. I cannot, at this distance of time, conceive that Mr. James Smith and Mr. Barry Sullivan were unfriendly, as I have seen them together on more than one occasion. Many instances are recorded in which Barry Sullivan showed temper. Without question his conduct of the Theatre Royal was on the highest grade. In his day Melbourne was scandalised by a set of society poodles, who carried their va garies into the dress circle and private boxes of the Theatre Royal. One lady, the wife of one of the gentlemen mentioned by Mr. W. H. Campbell, carried on high jinks, and one night, with some military officers, so scandalised the pit that the denizens of that part of the house loudly called for Mr. Sullivan, who did not happen to be engaged on the stage that night. Mr. Sullivan, seeing how "the land lay," immediately entered the box and removed the occupants, amidst the cheers of the house. On another occasion he marched majestically before a well-dressed snob, whom he was removing from the dress circle, when the snob kicked the tragedian under the coat tails. Sullivan spun round like a teetotum— it was at the stairs— and asked, "You kicked me, sir?" 'I did ! " was the reply. Sullivan hit out with his right, and with one well-directed blow sent the cad reeling to the bottom of the stairs. In the early seventies. Mr. Barry Sullivan made an appearance at the Liverpool Police Court on a charge of having assaulted a stage carpenter, of which more anon.

(To be continued.)