Sir William Don

While Mr. G. V. Brooke was earning golden opinions from all sorts of people, away from his business headquarters, Melbourne, his affairs were in anything but apple-pie order. I have no doubt his managers, Robert Heir (first) and Henry Edwards and George Fawcett, did their best. But theatrical managers are born, not made, and however brilliant an actor may be, he may, as a businessman, be the veriest duffer that ever donned a stage wig. Other matters may have helped in a degree to bring Mr. Brooke's finances down. While he and Mr. Coppin were in partnership the opposition in city theatres was the old weather-beaten matchbox known as The Princess', which had a very different company, and the ancient Hippodrome in Lonsdale-street, which had a precarious existence in several names, The Lyceum, The Prince of Wales, etc. While the Royal was being run by Coppin and Brooke, the old Olympic— the 'Ironpot'—was kept carefully closed as a theatre, though it was a rent-producing establishment, with the Olympic Hotel on the corner, run by William Pitt, the scenic artist. The Olympic pit was boarded over, and each night (and morning) the light fantastic toe was tripped on the most 'Continental lines.' Cremorne, of course, was only open in the summer months, when the free end easy of Melbourne could enjoy George Coppin's gondola trips with quiet chats in cozy corners, with the girl of your heart, or with the girl who cared little for your heart if you had a soft head and a long purse.

I mentioned previously that when George Coppin separated from Brooke he took with him most members of the old company. With that company and additions, George Coppin rehabilitated the old 'Ironpot,' and commenced a dramatic season. I was there on the opening night, the first I had ever been in the 'Pot.' The play was Falconer's comedy of "Extremes," or "Men of the Day." The cast, a strong one. It is an every-day costume comedy, rich, plebeian
and poverty-stricken aristocrats, the latter with a design upon the vast wealth of the former. A wealthy coal mine owner left his fortune of over a million to two persons, on condition that they married within six months. At the reading of the will the Lancashire cousins were looked down upon by their aristocratic-beggared friends, but the aspect of affairs changed when it was found that the old Lancashire woman, Mrs. Wildbriar, was worth half a million in her own right, while her daughter Jenny had a few thousands of her own, and the clodhopping son, in the red vest, owned to a big pile irrespective of what he expected from his mother. The poverty stricken swell, Sir Lionel Norman, believing that Lucy Vavasour would inherit the dead man's wealth, paid assiduous attention to her, but he discovered the condition of the will, that she should marry Frank Hawthorne, and if each refused the other, the wealth would be devoted to building homes for the orphan children of miners. There was also a condition that if one said 'yes,' and the other said 'no,' the money was to go to the one saying 'yes.' Believing that Frank must accept Lucy Vavasour, Sir Lionel Norman devotes his attention to Miss Jenny Wildbriar, who however, has a beau in the person of Everard Digby, a barrister, to whom she had been introduced under the title of the Marquis of Banterdown, a little device she had seen through. One of the crowd of penniless swells 'makes up' to Mrs. Wildbriar, and a penniless lady with a long pedigree fastens on to Robin Wildbriar. When the six months expire, and the executors of the will assemble the interested parties, after some cogitation, Lucy accepts the condition, while Frank Hawthorne rejects it. A very fine scene follows. Lucy explains that she guessed that Frank meant to refuse, and had she refused the money would be lost. Frank, being a bit of a poet, had composed some verses which, by chance, had fallen into Lucy's hands, and she declares that she will wear the willow all her life if he a second time refused her. In the cast were Richard Younge, Fred. Younge, T. S. Bellair, G. H. Rogers, Russell, Wilson (the scenic artist, who played Robin Wildbriar), Rose Dunn, Fanny Young (sister of Charles), the sisters Allen, a Miss St. Clair, and last, but not by any meant least, Mrs. Bellair, The opening night was that of the day on which Flying Buck won the first Champion Race at Flemington, January 1, 1859. It is fixed in my memory by reason of a doggerel epilogue spoken by Fred. Younge, wherein, he spoke of—
" . . . . . the ruck.
Viewing the heels of Flying Buck."
Soon after, Mr. Coppin produced "World and Stage," in which he appeared himself. Then the usual season followed, with always good results to George Coppin.
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It would be somewhat difficult for one not within the ring to get at the actual facts of Brooke's quarrel with Edwards and Fawcett. Ambrose Kyte was up to his neck in it. E. and F. had been borrowing money from, the then supposed millionaire, and Ambrose lent them so much money that they gave him the lease of the theatre as his security. All the soiled linen was publicly washed. The 'Age' newspaper, which accepted the correspondence, fairly revelled in the disclosures. To add to the trouble, the lady we knew as Mrs. Brooke became Mrs. Edwards, and Brooke, much to the scandal of the public, had his name linked with a leading actress whom he afterwards married at Liverpool. Friends interested themselves in Brooke's affairs, mediated with Mr. Coppin, and the pair became friends. Some people said that they were never separated, that it was only one of 'Coppin's dodges ;' but I don't think there was any 'dodge.' George Coppin was too careful a man to create a 'dodge' which should lose him money. The reconciliation was made, however. Mr. Coppin undertook the management of Mr. Brooke's theatre and affairs, and promised to make them straight.
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The opening piece under the resumed management of Mr. Coppin was Tobin's comedy of "The Honeymoon," followed by "The Serious Family," a big bill which crowded the house in every part, though the night was stormy and the rain pouring down in torrents. No rain could extinguish the interest felt in the reappearance in the same pieces of the old favorites, Coppin and Brooke, I made a unit in that great audience, and I shall never forget the reception Brooke met with on his entry as Duke Aranga. The demonstration was only equalled when George Coppin appeared as the Mock Duke. Avonia Jones played the parts of Juliana in "The Honeymoon," and Mrs. Ormsby Dalmaine in "The Serious Family." There appeared also, that night, after a long absence, Mrs. Vickery, a sterling actress in such parts as Mrs. Candour and Lady Sowerby Creamly, likewise was she great in the "Roman Mother," and no matter who else was in the company, Mrs Vickery was the Lady Macbeth. The feeling of the audience throughout the evening was displayed more than once when Brooke and Coppin were alone upon the stage.
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After "The Honeymoon," Brooke appeared in front of the curtain, and addressing the audience, said that he most heartily thanked them for the recognition manifested by them of the old as sociations of the house, and of his services in their behalf. The old friend who had performed with him that night was, he believed, the only friend he had in the colony; but while congratulating Mr. Coppin and himself on what had taken place, he would allow that gentleman to speak for himself. Brooke broke down more than once during the speech, and was picked up again by the vigorous applause of the audience. Mr. Coppin then came forward, and it was some moments before he could proceed. As soon as the applause subsided he said that it was most deeply gratifying to his feelings to find himself welcomed back as he had been to the boards of that theatre. It really looked like a vote of confidence, a sentiment which was cheered to the echo. When Mr. Brooke took the theatre he had promised to do all in his power to maintain the legitimate drama, and Mr. Brooke had done so. He (Mr. Coppin) Had now, at Mr. Brooke's request, assumed the management of the theatre for six months, during which he hoped, by assiduity and industry, and with the kind assistance of the public, to retrieve his broken fortune (Brooke had made £40,000 in his six years' Australian residence; a tidy sum to make up in six months, George) and to give him a substantial recognition of his talents on his departure for Europe. He could only say that nothing should be wanting on his part to bring about so desirable a result. Before retiring, Mr. Coppin begged to congratulate the public on having a second gas company (strange to say Ambrose Kyte was the promoter of the second gas company, which had the effect of bringing down the price of gas to a reasonable figure). The public would scarcely believe that after the thousands of pounds which the Gas Company had received from the theatre, the company had that night threatened to cut off the supply, unless the amount due — a paltry £43 — were paid instanter. Mr. Coppin humorously said that as he did not usually carry that amount about with him, the gas collector had kindly accepted his personal cheque, and if that had not been forthcoming the theatre would have been in utter darkness. Mr. Coppin then announced that on Saturday night a complimentary benefit would be given to that very promising young actress, Miss Rosa Dunn. On Boxing Night a panto mime would be produced which he hoped would give them every satisfaction: and, finally, he might state that an engagement had been made with Sir William and Lady Don, who would appear in due course. He hoped that, with such elements of novelty and talent, a succession of entertainments would be provided which might justly claim the support of the public, and lead to the successful results he had ventured to anticipate.
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In the course of his speech that night Mr. Coppin further said that the reception he had met with that night seemed a vote of confidence on his former management of the Theatre Royal. He had a character for 'dodging,' but he could honestly say and unhesitatingly declare that he had never abused that confidence in his promises as a manager. He had kept faith with the public. He regretted deeply that the satisfaction he felt on these grounds should be counterbalanced by the unfortunate circumstances in which he found the theatre placed at that moment. When he brought Mr. Brooke out from England he volunteered to him a promise that he would not leave him until he had secured for him an independency for the rest of his life, and he had kept his word. Last year (said Mr. Coppin) Mr. Brooke had made choice as his share of their joint business of the Theatre Royal, which was then in a thriving condition, and bringing a rental of £400 a year, or, instead, made him an offer of £20,000, clear of the liability to the amount of £8000 which then existed upon it. Now, by misrepresentation and deceit, to use no harsher terms, for none but such could be used, he thought, if the theatre were being disposed of for a sum so radically below its real value, for, terms which a usurer would blush to look upon, the theatre was passing out of Mr. Brooke's hands, not only so, but he found that Mr Brooke's testimonial, with which he had been presented by the public, his plate, and a portion of his wardrobe were deposited in the pawnshop, and a most usurious rate of interest charged for them, which, not having been paid, the property was forfeited. Mr. Brooke was moreover, indebted to the amount of £4000. Some people, said Mr. Coppin, might ask what was all this to them; but of one thing he felt convinced, and that was that the very large portion of the public would feel deep sympathy for the position in which Mr. Brooke was placed.
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In this connection the following, copied into the Sydney 'Empire' of 50 years ago, will be read with interest :— 'An Extensive Theatrical Engagement : Mr. G. V. Brooke and Mr. Coppin.— The American Manager . — Mr. G. V. Brooke has made an engagement with Mr. Coppin, through Mr. J. H. Wilton, to proceed to the colonies and act 200 nights, Mr. Coppin securing to him £10,000, in addition to the expenses of himself and four. Miss Fanny Cathcart accompanies the tragedian. The 200 nights are to be performed in nine months. A contract has also been entered into with Messrs. Fox and Henderson for the construction of an iron theatre, 120ft by 45ft, which will go with Mr. Brooke, costing complete about £5000. Mr. Brooke will sail in the new steamer Pacific.'
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Mr. J. B. Steele, who was engaged to support Mr. Brooke on his second visit to Australia, died on Friday, in the Cancer Hospital at Liverpool (N.S.W.). He was buried with Masonic honors on Saturday. Mr. Steele was 72 years of age. In next issue will appear a sketch of the career of the deceased gentlemen.

In the 'Sportsman' (25/5/'04) I made casual mention of the charming singer and burlesque actress, Julia Mathews, who made her first Australian appearance in Sydney in the old Victoria Theatre, in December, 1854, when she was but ten years of age, the character being Little Pickle, in the 'Spoiled Child." Julia, however, had commenced her theatrical career at the MarionetteTheatre in Leicester-square, London. From there she went to the Strand Theatre in the opening of a pantomime produced there in 1853, while Mr. Aldcroft was manager. At the Strand she appeared in several juvenile characters with marked success, gaining the approval or the London press. At the Victoria, Sydney, Miss Mathews remained 12 months, when Mr. George Coppin induced her parents, who were always her "agent" to accept an engagement at the Olympic, Lonsdale-street, better known in those days as "The Iron Pot" from the nature of its structure. Here Miss Julia increased her popularity until she became the idol of the people. In parentheses, it may be said that in juvenile parts Julia Mathews had a rival in little Anna Marie Quinn, about whom more at another time. At the termination of her engagement with Mr. Coppin, Julia went on tour through the goldfields of Victoria, then studded with theatres, and yielding showers of gold, Dannae-like. Next we hear of her with G. V. Brooke at Melbourne Royal, in such parts as Moth in "Love's Labors Lost," the fool in "King Lear," and other juvenile Shakespearean parts. Later on, we are told, though I don't remember it, and know her career for many years, she appeared as Ophelia, Margaret Overreach ("New Way to Pay Old Debts"), and other characters of that class with Brooke. If she did it must have been as understudy to Fanny Cathcart (Mrs. Robert Heir-Darrell), or when Miss Cathcart had fallen out with the Coppin-Brooke Combination, a severance which lasted a couple of months. Miss Mathews' first appearance in burlesque was in the "Nymph of Lurleyberg." Subsequently she joined George Fawcett (Rowe, but he was never known as Rowe in Australia) at the old Princess' Theatre in Spring-street, one of the very few old houses that fell into the hands of "the knacker," instead of becoming a prey to fire, the usual fate of the theatre. At the Princess' Miss Mathews appeared in all the burlesque and singing parts, which helped to make her famous on the stage. Here also she played many light comedy parts in "The Irish Heiress," "London Assurance," etc., etc., in Irish parts such as Anne Chute in the "Colleen Bawn," in which latter, with Dick Stewart, she made a decided hit. From Melbourne Julia went to New Zealand, where she married Mr. W. H. Mumford, much to the disgust of her parents, who thus lost their "gold mine.'" After some months absence from the stage, she reappeared at the Princess', Dunedin, and at Christchurch and Hokitika. Upon her return to Melbourne, she appeared at the Haymarket under George Coppin's guidance. Here she drew great audiences, her singing and histrionic powers having matured wonderfully. From this engagement she went straight to London, where Mr. Russell, director of Covent Garden Theatre, secured her for the role of the Grand Duchess, in which, and other operatic parts, she gained much distinction. I am afraid that her visit to London was not of such a character as would enhance Julia's reputation before the world. We heard that she had attached herself to a high up member of the British aristocracy; that she kept her brougham and liveried servants, and had done with the stage. The 'cad' of the British aristocracy of the sixties was not built on the lines marital, as poor Julia soon discovered. When she severed this connection, Miss Mathews toured the Continent and America, meeting with success wherever she went. I forget who it was that piloted her, but I know that it was not Mr. Mumford. At the now famous City of St. Louis, Julia was struck down with rheumatic fever, and on May 18, 1876, succumbed to the attack at the early age of 32 years.

I do not think poor Julia's life was a very happy one. From her infancy on the boards she was the breadwinner for her parents ; her teens being simply the drudgery of the stage. Her mother's eye A  never off her on the stage, and her father, who was a check-taker at the pit entrance, had his eye on her from the front. Julia was never seen without one or other in attendance. I had it from Julia's own lips at a rehearsal of "The Irish Heiress," on the stage of the old Princess', that she could have married R. O'Hara Burke, explorer, then an inspector of police at Castlemaine, and that it was her rejection of his suit that induced him to accept the leadership of the expedition, which ended so disastrously to himself and others. Yet she wore his miniature on her breast, and mourned his death. Perhaps it was a good advertisement.
Having reminisced about 'old Rogers' ("Sportsman," 6/7/'04), let us have a turn at 'old Lambert.' He differed from Mr. Rogers inasmuch as he had a very long English training in good theatres before he came to Australia. I heard him on a 'farewell' benefit night (which was not a farewell), say that when he first met G. V. Brooke at the Theatre Royal, Hawkins-street, Dublin, he (J. C. Lambert) was playing juvenile parts. The actor who passed successfully the ordeal of a Dublin theatre of 60 or 70 years ago was somebody. Dublin was the top rung on the ladder of fame, which landed the actor in London. Mr. Lambert commenced his theatrical career in his native county of Norfolk, and his commencement was that of a strolling player, and he has left in a MS. autobiography some amusing recollections of his barnstorming and stroller's life. His first appearance in Australia was at the old Queen's, in Queen-street, Melbourne, another of the old houses that did not go down by fire. Strange to say, be failed to immediately impress the Melbourne public, but the time did come when the play-goers by the Yarra Yarra, next to Brooke, swore by Lambert. My first sight of Mr. Lambert was as Mr. Aspen in the "Nervous Man," G. V. Brooke being the M'Shane. Heavens! what a scream it was from start to finish! The name indicates the character. About the year 1865 there was published a handsome quarto volume entitled 'The Lambert Album.' It contained 16 character portraits of the actor, and there were but three copies of the volume published! The portraits were by the old firm of Batchelder and O'Neil. There were two portraits of Mr. Lambert as Sir Peter Teazle, as Sir Anthony Absolute, as Lord Ogleby, as Justice Shallow, as Sir John Falstaff, as Sir John Vesey, and as Daddy Hardacre. I have seen Lambert in all these characters and many more, excepting Lord Ogleby. In everything he did Mr. Lambert was as perfect as stage effect could make him. In the smallest, as in the largest, characters he was simply perfect in his make-up. As the Apothecary in, "Romeo and Juliet," a character of half-a-dozen lines, he took as much pains to make perfect as he did in Sir Peter Teazle or Anthony Absolute. Many good critics say that Lambert, as Sir Peter Teazle, has never been equalled upon the Australian stage. I have seen Wallack (Julia Harland's father), Lambert, Rogers, Coppin, Cathcart, Hoskins (Julia Harland's husband), and some others in the part, and I must admit my preference for Lambert. Mr Rogers was, as I have said, more the bucolic Sir Peter, but a fine performance nevertheless.

In the mid sixties, when Barry Sullivan, having raised the Theatre Royal and its plays to the highest pitch of excellence, returned to England, Mr. Lambert and five others, having private means, leased the theatre and made money. The five were H. R. Harwood, Richard Stewart, T. S. Bellair, Vincent, and Hennings, the scenic artist. On Mr. Vincent's death I think his widow, Miss Clevland, stepped into his shoes. It was under this management that Mr. J. C. Williamson and the genial Maggie Moore first "Struck Oil." And in this connection a good story is told. Mr. Harwood (real name Biggs, a carpenter by trade, who made his debut as an actor at the old Victoria in Pitt-street in 1855; conducted the negotiations. The Williamsons wanted a certain figure. Harwood demurred, as 'Dutch comedy' had been done to death by Emmet, and the negotiations were about to fail, when, with keen business instinct and a knowledge of what they could do with "Struck Oil," Miss Moore asked if Harwood would share the house after a certain sum for expenses, Harwood jumped at the offer, and closed with the "Muricans." How did Mr. Harwood bite his nails for weeks after, when he stood on the pavement in Bourke-street and watched the people flocking to the Royal. He and his partners gained, of course, but Harwood said that he missed "all the tat" through not giving the Williamsons the salary they asked.

At the Royal, Mr Lambert and his partners made money, and the former retired into private life at a time when his powers had reached maturity. Having only his wife, who also played occasionally, Mr Lambert's income need not be heavy to enjoy the later years of life. As a citizen he was above reproach. He was not a society man; he habitually attended divine service at St. Peter's and carried the plate, "and was so quiet, demure and respectable that he might be taken for a bank manager, or for the respectable bank clerk in a large commercial house."

Mr Lambert retired to the town where he was born to spend the evening of his life, the now cathedral city of Wells. From "Buttlands," Wells, in September 1868, he wrote to a Melbourne friend a chatty letter, in which he showed that he was perfectly satisfied with his life and its cheerful coming close: — "I am living in my native town, which possesses about three thousand inhabitants, among whom are many old school fellows and ancient friends. My life is passing very happily in reading, writing, shooting, sleep, billiards and bowls. The place is attractive enough to induce professional people to visit it. Emma Stanley was here for one night, and we had a long-chat together. We have now a company of actors, gentlemen in appearance, not devoid of talent, and playing to good houses.

On Monday next a circus opens; so you will see my dear friend, that I am not quite mentally, as I hope not for some years to be physically, buried. The happiest portion of my professional life , was spent in Melbourne, but the greatest felicity I have enjoyed from my birth I now experience.'" And when the time came to "ring down," Death found J. C. Lambert quite ready.

"Died at Hobert Town on the 19th of March, 1862, Sir William Don, aged 36 years." Such was the unexpected announcement that met the Melbourne public three days later. Ten years before that I saw the dead walls of the city of Dublin placarded with the announcement that "Sir William Don, Baronet, the Eccentric Comedian," was about to appear at the Theatre Royal. His advent to Australia had a special interest for myself and all who came from the city by the Liffey; for had not Sir William Don taken unto himself for wife one of the prime favorites of the old Queen's, in Dublin, Miss Emily Saunders? There were three of the name at the Queen's Charlotte Saunders and a brother, a co median, bow-legged, whom we gallery boys nicknamed “Bandy Saunders." But Dublin had known Sir William Don be fore he took to the stage as a profession. He had been A.D.C. to one of the Lords-Lieutenant of Ireland, and well up in Dublin society, and had well advertised himself in private theatricals before, on loss of fortune, he took to the boards as a professional. The first appearance of the Dons in Melbourne was made in 1860. Lady Don in "The Daughter of the Regiment," and Sir William in the farce of "Toodles." Just imagine a 6ft 6in man in such a character as Mr. Toodles. The Marsh troupe of child comedians had previously introduced the farce to Melbourne, when Master George played the part; the contrast between the 4ft-nothing boy and the 6ft 6in baronet was ludicrous. To add to the fun, Don had all the stage furniture made in miniature, so that he walked as easily over chairs and tables as he did over footstools. His greatest hit, however, was as Queen Elizabeth in Kenilworth burlesque, with Lady Don as the Earl of Leicester. Six feet six inches, and splendidly made up, as the red-haired virgin Queen! But Sir William Don did not confine himself to English comedy; he excelled an Bailie Nicol Jarvie, Jock Howison, Dandie Dinmont, and suchlike; but perhaps one of the most extraordinary performances he ever took part in, and certainly one of the most extraordinary that I ever witnessed, was when "The Rivals" was produced with an "Ollapodrida" company — all stars and all good men in their several lines. Amongst them was Sir William Don, as Fag! John Drew, the Irish comedian, was Bob Acres; so you may guess what a 'screamer' it was. Of Lady Don's ability no eulogy can be too high. As a vocalist and an actress she was attractive in everything she appeared in, and even without her husband she held her own on the stage until the baronet's family thought it was but right that his widow should "retire on her rank." There was no estate, but I believe the Wauchopes of Edmonstone, near Edinburgh , and Newton House, Mussellburgh, N.B., to whom the barren title went on Sir William's death, saw to the widow's comfort. Sir William Don had gone through two large fortunes before he had taken to the stage, and when he threw up his commission in the Guards and took to the boards, it was in the hope of being able to buy back his old Scottish home. In a stage speech at Melbourne, in which he advised everybody to avoid debt, he said that he had been in the hands of usurers since he was "so high," indicating about 8ft from the boards. "To owe £20," said he, "and have £19 19s 11d to pay it with, was simply misery, but with £20 1s heaven!" To a friend in Melbourne he wrote from Hobart Town, a fortnight before his death, in a very cheerful strain :— "I have been dreadfully weak and pulled down since I have been here, and in bad spirits; but within the last two or three days I have Sir Walter Raleighed wonderfully. This is the most magnificent climate in the world. Come over at once. We shall be here for a fortnight longer and then Launceston two weeks, then back to Melbourne for Adelaide. Our success has been very great, Behold the proof:
Receipts at Launceston, one week    £416
Receipts at Hobart Town, one week £360
Total ................................................ £776
Our share ..........................................£388

The journey from here to -Launceston is really wonderfully beautiful. You will be delighted with It. Come at once." Even then the grave was opening for him, and he knew it not. Lady Don survived him 13 years, dying in England September 20, 1873, leaving an only daughter. To Sir William Don is attributed a freak which has been set down also to the credit or debit of W. E. Gladstone. Sir William had a habit of travelling third-class on the railway out of Edinburgh. To break him off the habit, the officials one day caused a number of chimney sweepers, with their bags and brushes, to be put into the same compartment. Don took in the situation. 'Come along with me, my lands," and after "shouting" for them in the refreshment room, he purchased first-class tickets for the lot, and planted himself and the sweeps in a first-class carriage. When they reached the end of their journey the drab cloth linings of the Carriage were sooty indeed.

(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.)