Mr Wilton

As Mr. Coppin pointed out, he got no satisfaction from Lord Canterbury, notwithstanding loud professions of honor and a desire to do the correct thing. Certainly Lieutenant and Aide-de-camp Rothwell sent a cheque for three guineas to the Official Assignee of Mr. Roberts' estate years after that unlucky manager filed his schedule. That payment did Mr. Roberts no good, nor yet any of Mr. Roberts' creditors. The house of Canterbury was always impecunious. The eldest son was as a rule, up to his neck in debt, and in trotting round with the Duke of Edinburgh did things generally on the nod. On his return to England he wiped out his debts by a certain process of whitewashing which has been somewhat frequent of late years amongst the British aristocracy. As an evidence of the impecuniosity of the family, it may be mentioned that the dead-head Viscount held a small sinecure worth £200 a year, some petty legal office in London, which he never saw, but for which he drew the salary with surprising regularity. And yet the Governor asserted that he always paid his way into the theatres and other amusements.

About the time that Mr. Coppin was having it out with Lord Canterbury, there was another mild sensation in the Melbourne theatrical world. Thirty years ago there was an eccentric genius in Sydney named WALTER HAMPSON COOPER.

As a journalist and playwright Mr. Cooper held a fairly distinguished position. He studied for the Bar, and was called, held a few briefs, chiefly in criminal cases, and was elected to the Legislative Assembly for East Macquarie. He sat in but one Parliament, a lapsus linguae getting him his quietus. He said, in debate, that all the outfit a free selector needed was a harness cask and bullet mould, and although East Macquarie was not much of a selectors' electorate, the biting sarcasm told, and at the ballot at the succeeding election Mr. Cooper was promptly fired out.

In his leisure time Mr. Cooper wrote a drama, 'Foiled,' and toured with it himself. At Sandhurst, Victoria, he struck a snag. His company was a good one, and included Stuart O'Brien, Nat Douglass, and others. The experiment at Sandhurst did not turn out well. It turned out well so far as the theatregoers were concerned, and so far as the critics were concerned, and as one cynic at the time said, it possibly turned out good for the author, but that the actors were satisfied was quite another matter. The transaction at Sandhurst had a very ugly appearance as far as the author-manager was concerned. For while the author-manager was on his way back to Sydney, certain bits of paper given to members of the company as payment for salaries were returned with the mystic letters 'N.S.F.' It may be assumed that the actors were not quite enraptured with their employer.

In answer to some sharp strictures in the press, Mr. Cooper explained that he did not assume the position of an author-manager; that 'Foiled' was not a success at Sandhurst, and that he did not obtain the services of any person without paying for them. Briefly, Mr. Cooper put the case thus :— 'Being on the point of returning to Sydney, I met Mr. Stanley, of the Sandhurst Theatre, who wished to produce 'Foiled' at that place. Not being certain that Mr. Stanley would have a company strong enough at that place, I delayed giving a decision on Mr. Stanley's offer, In the meantime it was suggested to me that as the company then playing at the Princess' Opera House was about to break up, I might arrange with certain members of that company—let them have the drama, travel with it, play it where they pleased, pay their own salaries and expenses out of the money accruing out of its representation, and divide the profits, if there were any, equally with me. I spoke first to Mr. Douglass on this matter. He agreed to the arrangement, and went with me to Mr. O'Brien, who, after we had some conversation, agreed to join in the enterprise. Mr. Stanley's offer was discussed, and Mr. O'Brien was for taking the theatre at Sandhurst, and taking a complete company to play 'Foiled' there. As, however, the Princess' Company would not be free to leave Mr. Bayliss for a fortnight, it was decided that I should go to Sandhurst to arrange with Mr. Stanley. I did so simply because Mr. O'Brien was unable to go. If Mr. O'Brien had been free to quit Melbourne, he would have gone to Sandhurst and I would have gone to Sydney, leaving the whole thing in his hands. Bear in mind that Messrs. O'Brien, Douglass and Co. were to take 'Foiled' and my other pieces, pay their own salaries, etc., out of the receipts, and divide the profits with me. I, in fact, let them my pieces on sharing terms. I was not author-manager of the company, Mr. O'Brien and Mr. Douglass had no more right to claim a salary from me

than you have; but I admit that in the cases of Miss Shepparde and Mrs. Jones I have made myself to a certain extent liable. Now, how did I act? First of all I paid the travelling expenses of Mr. O'Brien, Mr. Douglass, Miss Shepparde, and Mrs. Jones from Melbourne to Sandhurst. Then at the close of the first week I handed over to Mr. O'Brien the whole of the money, in cash, paid me by Mr. Stanley, without deducting the expenses paid out of pocket, and, at Mr. O'Brien's request, I gave him certain post-dated cheques to meet the company's expenses in case the second week at Sandhurst should not prove remunerative. All this I did, though, mark you, neither Mr. O'Brien nor Mr. Douglass had a claim upon me to the extent of a farthing; and for doing this, out of a pure desire to save these people annoyance, I am pilloried in the 'Australasian.' By the terms of our agreement, even the railway fares from Melbourne to Sandhurst should have came out of the proceeds of the piece, and not out of my pocket.

'I came down to Melbourne, and there I found that a cheque given me for some scrip (a cheque for £54) was valueless, and that consequently I would not have funds to meet the cheques given to Mr. O'Brien. I wrote at once and told him so; and there the matter ought to have ended as far as I was concerned, for those cheques were advanced as a loan, and not given by me as manager of the company responsible for their salaries. The receipts for the week in Sandhurst amounted to £127 16s 6d. Of this I received from Mr. Stanley £20 18s, and of that sum Mr. O'Brien received £18 2s 6d. I had no money left at all. I had not even sufficient to pay the passage of myself and wife to Sydney. You say truly that Mr. O'Brien holds my dishonored cheques; but you might have said, also, that Mr. O'Brien had no right to demand from me the money those cheques represent, and that he knew a week before he presented them that they would be dishonored.'

It is clear, therefore, from Mr. Cooper's explanation, that he made no money by the production of 'Foiled' at Sandhurst. But though Walter Cooper disclaimed any managerial responsibility in connection with the performance of the play there, he took a considerable share in the arrangements, and his connection looked very like management. When the intention of producing 'Foiled' at Sandhurst was first spoken of, it was stated that Mr. Cooper was going to travel with the company to the other colonies, in the same way that Fred Younge travelled with his 'Caste' company. The project was mentioned in several of the newspapers, and as Mr. Cooper was in Victoria at the time, he had every opportunity of correcting this statement if he had thought proper. Mr. Cooper could not wonder, therefore, that something more than a merely general impression prevailed as to his being in the position of manager to what might be termed the 'Foiled' Company. Such being the impression, it is nothing surprising that, coupling his sudden departure from Melbourne with the dishonoring of the cheques given by him to a member of the company, the conclusion should have been arrived at that he had left the colony to escape his managerial responsibilities. As one of the earliest efforts at Australasian dramatic authorship, Mr. Cooper's venture was hailed with satisfaction, and the public, for the time, was gratified that he had cleared himself.

But Mr. Stuart O'Brien and others had something to say in reply to Mr. Cooper. Dating from the Theatre Royal, Ballarat, January 9, 1872, Mr. O'Brien writes :-

'Sir,— I am sorry to contradict Mr. Cooper's statements, but, in justice to Mr. Douglass and myself, I must do so. Mr. Cooper's engagement with us was to pay us our Melbourne salaries under any circumstances. He did so for the first week, and handed me cheques for the following week, to be paid by me to Mrs. Jones, Miss Shepparde, Mr. Douglass and Mr. O'Brien. If the receipts of 'Foiled' reached, as they did in Melbourne (say) £100, the profits were to be divided, after salaries and expenses— Mr. Cooper one half, Mr. Douglass and self the other half.

'I enclose you Mr. Cooper's letters. You will find by one of them he states that there will be money enough in the bank to meet the cheques he gave me. They were no loan, as Mr. Cooper and I had taken the Adelaide theatre between us, and his cheques for £20 and £15 were from him to me as his partner, and to pay his share of the expenses to Adelaide.

'Mr. Cooper's last words to me were : 'If the salaries come in, do not use the cheques, and pay into my credit any balance that may be left.' There was £7 10s, I think, coming to Mr. Cooper from Mr. Stanley, which Mr. Stanley paid me in two of Mr. Cooper's dishonored cheques amounting to £10 4s 6d.

'On coming to Melbourne our cheques were presented at the bank and returned N.S.F., and I may say that I had every confidence in Mr. Cooper's statement that he had funds in the City Bank of Sydney; otherwise I would not have involved myself as I have done.'

Mr. Douglass, writing from the same place, says : 'Allow me to endorse every word of the above, and at the same time to express my sorrow that this matter should have been made public. In justice to ourselves, Mr. O'Brien and myself have no other course open than this: stating the truth.'

Mr. O'Brien produced several letters and documents to corroborate his statement. In a letter from Mr. Cooper to Mr O’Brien, under date November 21, is the following, relating to the arrangements for the tour alleged to have been in contemplation:— 'We can play here (Sandhurst) for a fortnight, then go to Castlemaine, and then go to Ballarat or to Hobart Town for the Christmas. After Hobert Town we may visit Ballarat or Adelaide. I leave you to arrange these matters, and, of course, will leave all future arrangements in your hands. My part of the business will be simply to go forward as agent, and bill the places where we intend to open.' In a letter dated November 22, Cooper says : 'Bayliss has not got the Ballarat theatre. We had better secure it, and also the Hobart Town theatre for Christmas. Do you think it worth while playing in Castlemaine?' In one letter dated November 30, speaking of the arrangements, Cooper says: 'I am to find you, Douglass, Miss Shepparde, no one else. Now, I don't want to break my word with Appleton, though the engagement was only a contingent sort of affair.' A document in Mr. Cooper's handwriting, dated December 9, contains the following: 'Received from Mr. Cooper, cheques postdated for £6, £5, £5, and £7, salaries of Miss Jones, Miss Shepparde, Mr. Douglass, and Mr. O'Brien, to December 16 next; also one bank cheque to be filled in for a sum not exceeding £35, for company's expenses.— F. Stuart O'Brien.' These cheques were dishonored, and on December 19 Mr Cooper wrote to Mr. O'Brien regretting the unfortunate turn things had taken, and offering to give him the play of 'Foiled' as compensation for his losses. He says: 'I think, if I place 'Foiled' in your hands, make it over to you as your sole property, you may be able to square yourself and me too. I therefore make the piece over to you for the nominal sum of £100— that is to say 'Foiled' is your property, if you like to have it for that price, with the option of paying me the money when it suits your convenience, and if it never suits your convenience never to pay me. This is the only reparation I can make you, I hope you will be able to arrange for me with the other people, whose money I will pay as soon as I can.'

From this it must be gathered that Mr. Cooper did intend to travel with a 'Foiled' company; that he did make himself responsible for the salaries, and that not being able to pay them, he offered reparation to Mr. O'Brien, and promised to pay the others as soon as possible. Cooper returned suddenly to Sydney, and brought upon himself a lot of odium.

There was a partnership subsequently between, if I remember rightly, J. J. Bartlett, Mr. Cooper, and a gentleman who belonged to a minstrel company. After producing certain of Mr. Cooper's plays in Sydney and other New South Wales towns, the party intended touring the United States. I think, however, this also ended in failure, as did most of Mr. Cooper's ventures. The unfortunate gentleman, after many domestic troubles, joined the great majority at an early age.

Mr. Bartlett, whose wife was a Miss Moon, sister of a distinguished musician of the sixties and seventies, came to Australia in the early sixties, having with him, they then being children, Bland and May Holt. Bartlett entered into theatrical management with Mr. William Dind, in the Prince of Wales' Opera House, Castlereagh-street, but the fire of January, 1872, dissolved the partnership and began the series of mishaps which ended Mr. Bartlett's career

upon the stage of this life.

In the articles re Barry Sullivan ('Sportsman,' September 7, 1904) the name of Mr, Wilton cropped up, he being the gentleman who held the lease of the Theatre Royal, Melbourne, when Mr. Sullivan arrived. This gentleman came to Sydney with Mr. Sullivan, and, as mentioned in Mr. Amory Sullivan's letter, committed suicide at Tattersall's Hotel, Pitt-street. Mr. Wilton had a son, H. D. Wilton, who, late in 1871, died at Church-street, South Shore, Blackpool, England, at the early age of 29 years. In Australia he had acted as agent for Lady Don, and returned with that lady to England. Young and volatile, he did not take that care of himself which a man of more mature years would. It is to his credit, that he stood by Lady Don in all her troubles incidental on the management of the Newcastle Theatre, and his death was not only acutely, felt by Lady Don, but by a large circle of friends and acquaintances.

The end of 1871 and the beginning of 1872 were eventful years in matters theatrical in Melbourne. Added to those mentioned in recent articles, the Theatre Royal went down by fire in January, 1872, a few weeks after the Prince of Wales' Opera House in Castlereagh-street met a similar fate.

(To be continued.)

When Barry Sullivan first appeared in Melbourne, in 1862, he was fairly a frost. He was exceedingly seedy in appearance, and, having followed closely upon Brooke, was looked upon in the light of an interloper. He was introduced to Australia by Mr. Wilton, who had pioneered G. V. Brooke six years previously. The company at the old Royal was not the best that could be gathered in— added to which the theatre was in a state of sad repair, unclean and bedraggled-looking. Again, Mr. Sullivan's chief support was ; an ambitious rival, Henry Neil Warner, who did not treat the stranger as generously as he should have done. I am afraid the critics, too, were not as lenient to the newcomer as they might have been. That Sullivan felt the criticisms keenly may be gathered from the fact that on one occasion, as 'Richelieu,' he altered the text to suit his purpose— 'Beneath the rule of men entirely 'just,' the pen is mightier than the sword.' I heard him utter the lines, but they brought no responsive answer from the audience. Again, on another occasion, when hissing was prevalent, he stepped to the front and angrily exclaimed 'What do you want ? Don't think that I came here to make a name ; I brought it with me.' Mr. Barry Sullivan brought some of the trouble on to his own head. The people of Melbourne were used to seeing the leading lady share the call with the leading actor, but Sullivan always strutted before the curtain in answer to the call, which was not always for him. On such occasions the call would be for Mrs. Heir a vociferous one—when that lady would be led on by her husband, though often he was not in the cast. In after years I have seen Barry Sullivan, in the pink of fashion, leaning on the arm of Ambrose Kyte, chatting gaily with Mr. James Smith, the then recognised critic of the 'Argus,' and opposite the 'Argus' office too! and that after 'having a deadly quarrel with the critic.

Sullivan is said to have been born in Birmingham, of parents in very humble life. He was always reticent as to his early career. On one occasion he unbent just a trifle, at a national banquet given him in Dublin in December 1878, when he said : 'It may not be considered out of place if I mention, here the fact that I commenced the art which I have the honor to profess, not on the first rung of the ladder, but on the very ground. While yet a boy I stood alone in the world, without father, mother or friend, without means, and master only of 'a little Latin and less Greek.'

Sullivan was quite Homerian in a sense, inasmuch that at his death several cities claimed the honor of his birth. His parents were Irish, and he has often expressed himself as 'Irish to the heart's core,' and certainly his brogue was corroborative of his Irish origin. Some claim that Sullivan was born in Cork county, one faction standing up for Clonakilty, another for Dunmanway. It has, however, been placed beyond doubt that Thomas Barry Sullivan first saw the light on Shakespeare's birthday, April 23, 1824, in Birmingham, county of Warwick, the county which gave the immortal Will a birthplace. However, the Sullivans made Cork their home, while the future tragedian was yet a child. There he was found in 1838 a poor, ill-educated lad on the foot-board of life, as an assistant in a drapery store, a new establishment opened by one Swinburne, in Winthrop-street. From there he went to Todd's, another drapery house.

It was while in this establishment, a lad of 15, he was described as having a 'handsome Irish face, already showing in its lineaments the dawning of character and resolution, a sparse, elegant figure, and a profusion of jet-black ringlets.' So, at least thought the local players, into whose good graces he won his way. Finding that he had a tenor, light, but pleasing, he was invited to appear for one night at the old theatre in George's- street (Cork), for the benefit of one of the Misses Smith, the charming duetists, recognised as nieces of Kitty, the fascinating Countess of Essex, known on the stage as Kitty Stephens. Barry Sullivan appeared as Young Meadows in the once comic opera ''Love in a Village," that being his first appearance on the stage. His success was beyond a doubt, and manager Seymour at once engaged him to play 'leading, singing, walking gentleman.' In the spring of 1840 a Dublin tragedian named Paumier visited Cork and became manager of the George's street theatre. Under him Sullivan gained many valuable hints in fencing and dramatic elocution, which he found of great value in after life. During an engagement of operatic stars, Mr. and Mrs. Wood, the George's-street theatre was burned down, a calamity which caused Paumier to leave for England. Sullivan now found his former manager, Seymour, who had converted a hall in Cook-street into a theatre, naming it The Victoria. 'The ghost seldom walked,' a circumstance attributed by Seymour to the visit of a travelling booth managed by one Collins, who, with a good company, attractive melodramas, and low prices, did a roaring trade. Sullivan went over to Collins and obtained permission to appear in a round of legitimate characters. The venture was successful, money poured in, and Collins grew so joyful that he set about erecting a large wooden building as a theatre. With the old booth his luck went out, and Barry returned to the old 'Royal Victoria Theatre.'

During the winter of 1840, Barry Sullivan had the felicity of supporting Ellen Tree, then in the heyday of her youth, beauty and power, in Cork. Paul Bedford was in the company at this time and played Blueskin to Sullivan's Darrell in 'Jack Sheppard.' When things were quiet in Cork, the players migrated to Waterford, Limerick, and other neighboring towns. About this time the first and only instance of Barry Sullivan ever getting 'tight' occurred at Clonmel. He was Dewelskin the Smuggler in 'Rory O'More,' and in the scrimmage lost control of himself and ill-used one of the attacking party, and, grieving over this, he decided to abandon strong drink. "And," says a biographer, "he had strength of character, and religiously kept his resolution to the end." That is scarcely correct, however, as to my personal knowledge Sullivan always had a pint of Dublin stout with his supper every night.

At a banquet given Sullivan in Cork, in December 1878, in replying to the toast of his health, the tragedian said, among other things : 'I was going to the theatre, and as I was passing through the principal street, Denny street, there was a cry of fire. I went down with the other boys— for I was only a big boy at the time— to look at the fire, and presently I saw a very beautiful girl looking out of a window above, and with her a gentleman with a white head. ' To make a long story short, I went through the flames and saved those two. Suddenly I remembered that I was wanted at the theatre, which was in the Market House, and I really did not think that I had done anything worth remembering. Two or three days afterwards, however, it became known that the boy, the individual, the young man, who had saved the lives of this lady and gentle man - I remember they were Mr. Primrose and Miss Primrose, his daughter - it was discovered that it was young Sullivan, the vulgar little player, who had done this. Up to that time our theatre had been doing very badly, but from, this time forward we had crowded houses, I tell you.' A similar incident is recorded of G. V. Brooke.

In 1842 Barry Sullivan was supporting Charles Kean in Edinburgh, and 20 years after Barry Sullivan was at the Royal in Bourke-street, Melbourne, with a magnificent company, while Charles Kean, with a good company, was playing at the Haymarket Theatre on the opposite side of the street ! Barry Sullivan played Gaston to the star's "Richelieu," and in this connection may be mentioned an incident. In 1857 Barry Sullivan was playing 'Richelieu' in Edinburgh, and the Gaston of the night was Henry Irving ! It would be impossible (and quite unnecessary) to follow Sullivan in his upward career In England, Scotland, Ireland, and America, in these columns. His colonial career touches us more nearly.

On G. V. Brooke's return to England in 1861 the larger cities of Australasia had, for the first time, an opening for a first-class tragedian. Barry Sullivan took the tide at the flood, and entering into negotiations with Mr. J. Wilton, who at that time had the lease of the Theatre Royal, agreed to make his de but at that house. I think Barry Sullivan come to Australia "on his own." Mr. W. H. Campbell, recently residing in San Francisco, but in the fifties or sixties a resident of Melbourne, recalling matters theatrical, wrote thus to a friend :_ "I frequently met and was pretty well acquainted with 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 had ever set foot in the colonies, but he had left for good before Sullivan's arrival there. The contrast between the two men, both Irishmen, as they were, was very striking. Brooke was good natured, convivial, careless, and had moments of superb inspiration. Sullivan, on the other hand, was practical, energetic, 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 Joseph Jefferson, Fanny Cathcart (Mrs. Heir-Darrell) Heir, and a galaxy of lesser talent, playing at the Princess. I think, they opened in 'Money,' Barry Sullivan as Evelyn, Jefferson as Graves. A little supper was tendered these gentlemen and the two captains commanding the ships which brought them out to Australia. Of those who made merry that night, only Mr. Jefferson, Captain D.H. Johnson, R.N.R., and myself remain to tell the tale. H. B. Donaldson, of Sandridge, was there, and my fellow-survivors doubtless remember how he and the genial C. Throckmorton went through the farcical comedy of marrying the landlord's daughter over the broom stick, for the special entertainment of our theatrical guests.

'It fell to my lot to propose Mr. Sullivan's health. In doing so I alluded to a keen, fussy controversy 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 method in regard to them being at variance with those formerly practised. My endeavour was to throw oil on the troubled waters and bring the unhappy dispute to an end. So I ventured to suggest to our friend the desirability of a compromise, or such concession as might please the ladies and satisfy popular prejudice and clamour.

"Jumping up, the tragedian replied in these words, 'Do you think, sir,' addressing me personally, 'that I will concede ? No, sir! Never, sir! ! Not for a moment, sir ! ! ! Do you mean to say that I, Barry Sullivan, must stoop down to the people of Melbourne ? No, sir ! Far from it. I'll bring them up to me.' And he carried 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 Guiness' Dublin porter. He was fond of praise, though impatient of adverse criticism. 'Did you see my Don Caesar?' he asked me on the street a few days after the production of 'Don Caesar de Bazan.' He fished for a compliment and received a well-merited one."

The trouble with the ladies alluded to was that which was deemed discourteous, in not ''leading a lady on" in answer to a call or sharing the call with her. Sullivan, however, in after years, got on very well with the ladies ; he always had a double company and paid good salaries. The Cafe Royal alluded to above was the Cafe de Paris, run by Spiers and Pond, and occupied the frontage to Bourke-street, the theatre being built at the rear. I have, as one of my treasures, a picture of the old building, with a group of actors and actresses in front, in the group being G. V. Brooke, Robert Heir and his wife, Dick Stewart, and many other thespians long 'gone over.' In a basket phaeton, harnessed to two ponies, sits Christopher Pond, a fine, stalwart man, popular and prized. Sullivan's supper was not always broiled steak or chop. I remember on one occasion having business with him, after the theatre had closed, when his supper consisted of a lump of soused fish and the usual half-pint of Guinness' stout.

In 1863 Barry Sullivan came to Sydney and met with great success. On his return to Melbourne he secured a lease of the Theatre Royal from Ambrose Kyte, the first time in his life that he accepted the responsibility of management. He secured Hennings as scenic artist and H. R. Harwood as nominal stage manager, and on March 7, 1863, commenced a series of Shakespearian revivals. Then came the Keans, and the rivalry between the Keans and Barry Sullivan gave Melbourne the most brilliant theatrical season it ever enjoyed. The Keans were supported by a specially gathered company, each member of which was asked by Mr. Coppin to sink himself and his rank 'for the occasion only,' out of compliment to the distinguished visitors. Kean and wife brought with them J. F. Cathcart and — Everett, with Miss Chapman (a relative of Mrs. Kean). Henry Edwards, and other stock leaders of the day agreed to play "second fiddles" to the Keans and their company, it is an open secret that Charles Kean was disappointed with his Australian trip. He was, in fact, played out, and, but for the great assistance of his wife, would have been a dead frost. Old Londoners, who recollected his princely revivals of the Shakespearian drama, flocked to see him; but, divested of their spectacular effects, the plays, at the Haymarket, Melbourne, were as unlike the plays at the Princess', London, as Charles Kean was unlike his father, the great Edmund Kean.

Of Barry Sullivan, James Smith, who is regarded as the Nestor of Australian dramatic critics, and who has been associated with press work in Melbourne for over 50 years, thus wrote-: — 'As a man I did not like him. He was cold, hard, and repellent, and his vanity amounted to disease. He Seriously believed that the British stage had only produced thro j 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 almost childish. I could never detect any of the fire of genius in his performances ; but he professed great talent, and that 'infinite capacity for taking pains' which comes 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 detail connected with a theatre, from 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 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 his, 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 (1892), a company scarcely less complete and efficient than Daly's. Every piece he produced he had handsomely mounted, thoroughly, rehearsed, and effectively 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."

While in Melbourne Mr. Barry Sullivan's right-hand man in management was Mr. Son Amory. The latter, now dead,-was in Sidney, a few years ago, when I had some pleasant chats about old times and old people, of which and whom more at another time.

(To be continued.)

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

***

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

(To be continued.)

Mr. George Coppin's controversy with John Henry Thomas Manners-Sutton, Viscount Canterbury and Governor of Victoria 1866-1873, clearly proved that some Vice-Regal people were afflicted with very bad memories, or something worse. In the very early seventies Mr. Coppin founded an institution known as THE DRAMATIC ASSOCIATION which had a council to direct its affairs, and kept a minute-book with commendable regularity. The first hint the newspapers got of there being trouble about Vice-Regal dead heads was through the 'Age' of December 21, 1871, in which the proceedings of the council of the Australasian Dramatic, Operatic, Musical and Equestrian Association — comprehensible enough in all conscience — were reported. Amongst the business transacted there was a resolution, carried unanimously: 'That as his Excellency Lord Viscount Canterbury and suite patronise public entertainments upon the free list, an application should be sent to all managers from this association to discontinue a practice so unprofitable to the profession, and so undignified for the representative of her Most Gracious Majesty the Queen.'

The 'Age' newspaper was evidently read at the gubernatorial breakfast table, as under date December 21, Lieutenant J. S. Rothwell, private secretary, writes: 'George Coppin, Esq., Chairman of the Council Australasian Dramatic, etc., Association,' thus:

'Sir— His Excellency, Viscount Canterbury has observed, in the report (in the 'Age' of this morning's issue) of the proceedings yesterday of the Australasian Dramatic, Operatic, Musical and Equestrian Association presided over by you, the announcement that the council has adopted a resolution, of which the following passage is the commencement: 'That his Excellency the Governor of Victoria, Lord Viscount Canterbury and suite, patronise public entertainments upon the free list, etc.'

'With reference to the assertion contained in this passage, Viscount Canterbury instructs me to state that if it should be intended to convey the inference that his Excellency is, or has been, in the habit of being present at dramatic, operatic, musical or equestrian entertainments without payment, that inference would be directly contrary to the facts of the case.

'It is, indeed, a fact that his Excellency's attendance at entertainments of this character has generally been at the request of managers, and it is also true that he has frequently attended them at considerable inconvenience to himself, but he is not aware of a single instance in which he has not paid for the seats which he has occupied; and if you should have any claim which, through inadvertence on my part, remains unsatisfied, against his Excellency for seats occupied by him at your theatres: or if there should be any manager among those with the council of which you are the president who has entered, or is about to enter, into communication, in accordance with the resolution to which I have referred, who has not been paid for the seats occupied by his Excellency at the dramatic, operatic, musical or equestrian establishment under his control, I shall esteem it a favor if the account should be sent to me, in order that it may be examined, and, if found correct, paid.'

To this very formal communication Mr. Coppin replied, in an equally formal manner :-

'Sir, —I have the honor to acknowledge the receipt of your letter of December 23 (sic) at 10.30 on Saturday night.

'In reply I most respectfully decline to furnish an account in order that it paid. The old established rule of my profession will not permit me to acknowledge debtors for admission to the theatre.'

Lieutenant Rothwell came again : —

'Sir,— I have laid before his Excellency Viscount Canterbury your letter of the 26th instant, which only reached me this morning (December 28), in which you have refused, for a reason alleged therein, to state the instances, if any, in which seats occupied at any time by his Excellency at any theatre under your management have not been paid for.

'His Excellency has instructed me to refrain from making any comment on this refusal, and I am to inform you that any correspondence with you on this subject is now closed.'

There were other letters, but those quoted contain the germ. The Melbourne press naturally sided with Government House as against the player, and that without hearing any reason from Mr. Coppin. The 'Australasian' was particularly severe, and extremely unjust, in its criticism of the action of the Dramatic Association. It heaped upon the devoted head of Coppin all the obloquy it could. The papers, the 'Argus' especially, believed Lieutenant Rothwell's assertion, and in fact, told George Coppin that he was a liar — if not in as many words, at least by strong inference. Thus the 'Australasian' :— 'That Association has been blamed for adapting an insolent and insulting resolution; and what says Mr. Coppin? His Excellency ought to pay for admission to the theatres. Very well. We are assured on excellent authority that Viscount Canterbury does so. When the Governor attends the Theatre Royal a cheque for the admissions is sent to the management next morning by the aide-de-camp. What becomes, then, of all this offensive talk about the free list? Mr. Coppin and his friends have made a great mistake, and have committed a glaring breach of good taste and propriety; but instead of contritely acknowledging their error and making a frank apology, they attempt to explain and justify their misconduct, and they fail signally. They should remember that the Melbourne public of 1871 is not the Melbourne public of 1855. Any sort of managerial flummery would go down at the earlier epoch. 'We have changed all that.' Mr. Coppin has done good service to the drama in days gone by, and we cheerfully acknowledge it ; but he is incapable of reading the signs of the times. 'Dodges' are out of date, and playgoers are beginning to understand that charitable benefits— especially when given on the worst night in the week, or the year— are mere devices to enable the manager to pull in sufficient people to pay the usual expense of the house, which, under ordinary circumstances, would not have been covered; while as regards the deduction made on that account before any surplus is handed over to the charity to be benefited, it is very well known that the expenses are down at 50 percent, higher than they actually are, the plausible excuse being that a charitable performance has the effect of lessening the average attendance on the night before and the night after it takes place. When David Garrick, being then manager of Drury Lane Theatre, gave a benefit for the theatrical fund instituted in connection with that establishment, he handed over the gross receipts of the house to that fund without deductions of any kind. He did the same when Mrs. Gibbes took a benefit on the 10th of March, 1754 and also on November 11, 1753, when the performances were, 'on behalf of a gentleman with a very large family.' This was true charity, but, so far as our recollections of Garrick's voluminous published correspondence serves us, he never boasted of it; and never traded upon it.

But then Garrick was a gentleman.'

OI course the sting of the article is in its tail, but the 'Australasian' scribe was a bit previous. George Coppin was the last man in the world to allow his 'bone to go with the dog,' and the Dramatic Association loyally backed him up. The 'Daily Telegraph' (Melbourne), in its issue of December 29, said: 'It is a very remarkable correspondence, and it has this outcome: If Viscount Canterbury is not the biggest of falsehood mongers, Mr. Coppin is the meanest. There is no escape from that very unpleasant dilemma. We shall all be agreed on the point that one or the other — the Governor or the manager ought to be hissed out of the theatre the next time he appears there.'

The Dramatic Association appointed a sub-committee to investigate the whole matter, and from the tenor of its report one can imagine that the snuff-taking, port-wine-loving Viscount Canterbury would wish that he had taken no public notice of the resolution passed by the A.D.O.M. and E. A., but had let sleeping dogs lie. On Wednesday, January 3, 1872, the council met at St. George's Hall, when there were present— George Coppin (in the chair), James Simmonds (sec.), R. Stewart, William Pitt, J. H. Wilton, Richard Capper, Fred. Coppin, G. Seide, J. R. Greville, John Hennings, R. Scott, W. Holmes, G. Chapman, and John Dunn. Amongst other business done was the election of Martin Simonsen and Enderby Jackson as governors. Miss Lizzie Watson was also elected to a similar position ; and Mr. J. H.Wilton was transferred from membership to governorship. Mr. Edward Gladstone and Mr. James Alison were elected members. Amongst the subscriptions acknowledged were 10 guineas from Spiers and Pond, London ; a guinea from Dan Melhado, Sydney; and a guinea from Tommy Trotter, of whom more at another time.

Lieutenant Rothwell's letter was read, and Mr. Coppin entered into an explanation of the correspondence which had passed between him and the Lieutenant. Mr. Coppin explained that he refused to furnish an account on several grounds. Theatrical management was a ready money business. No one whatever could pass a check-taker without first purchasing his ticket of admission, with the exception of those who received the compliment of being placed upon the free list, ‘a compliment, by the way, which was not practised by any other trade or profession but theirs. Etiquette opened the doors of a of place of public amusement, without demanding a ticket, to the representative of her Majesty, and in return, custom dictated the presentation of a cheque to the management with as little delay as possible, the amount of that cheque being generally regulated by the liberality of the Governor and the amount he received from the public purse by way of salary. Lord Canterbury had neglected to carry out that principle, and he (Mr. Coppin) could but think that the omission on the part of the Governor was not at all in accordance with the dignity we had a right to expect from a well-paid representative of Royalty.’

The meeting passed a resolution confirming Mr. Coppin's action, and appointed a committee of three— Messrs. Wilton, Capper and Simmonds — to report upon the matter in dispute. At the following meeting the committee brought up its report. The document placed Lord Canterbury and his private secretary in a somewhat unenviable position. The committee presented a few cases which were indisputably shown to be glaringly inconsistent with Rothwell's assertion. 'Visits of his Excellency the Governor to the Theatre Royal, Melbourne, upon which occasions no payments have been made : 1867 — August 21, command, no payment. 1868 — January 13, patronage, no payment; November 23, command, no payment; 1869— January 4, command, no payment; May 1, command, no payment; May 27, patronage, no payment (Note A); October 28, command, no payment. 1870 — May 14, command, no payment. About this time it appeared that the acting manager instructed the box-bookkeeper to make out an account against the Governor. He also informed his partners that he had spoken to Lieutenant Rothwell for the purpose of obtaining payments. No notice, as yet, has been taken of the communication. June 30, command; December 13, patronage. The sum of £3 15s has been paid for the last two visits, at the rate of 5s per ticket for the centre box, the established price being 7s 6d per ticket. Authenticated by the account books of the theatre and the statements of the treasurer.

'Theatre Royal, Haymarket : 1867—January 11, command, no payment; August 10, command, no payment. The absence of the manager leaves a blank of three years. 1870 — November 4, command, no payment; November 9, patronage, no payment (Note B). Authenticated by the accounts of the theatre and the treasurer.

'St. George's Hall (Weston and Hussey): 1869 — June 23, command, no payment; July 23, command, no payment. Authenticated by the books and the statements of the managers.

'Town Hall, Melbourne : 1871— May 13, benefit concert, patronage, no payment (Note C).

'Note A. — Your committee consider that this night had special claims upon the Governor's purse. The entertainments were given by the Foresters' Society, for the benefit of the Melbourne Hospital and the Benevolent Asylum. The printed accounts show 'no payment' for the Gubernatorial party.

'Note B. — Your committee report these two occasions as 'no payment' because the manager did not participate in the amount that his Excellency presented to the official assignee of an insolvent estate nearly three years old. If the Governor had paid for his boxes within a reasonable time, the manager would have received the share he paid to the 'star,' and the proportion to which he was justly entitled for providing the entertainment.'

In other words, the Governor, Viscount Canterbury, only paid for the boxes when, three years afterwards, the official assignee in the estate of the insolvent manager was collecting the debts due, and furnished his Excellency with an account of the amount of his indebtedness.

'Note C. — This is a special case for notice, as the benefit was given to relieve a talented artist from pressing difficulties and to provide funds for his passage to England. The accounts and statements of members of the managing committee prove 'no payment.' The above facts are sufficient to prove the general correctness of the resolution, and the consequent inaccuracy of the statement contained in the letter of the private secretary. Your committee are not in a position to show that his Excellency attended operatic entertainments without paying for admission, as the leading operatic managers are absent from the colony, but inasmuch as they are aware that those managers frequently, and most publicly, complained of this being the case, they can hardly suppose that they would do so without adequate cause. Your committee may further refer to the correspondence of a late manager of the Haymarket Theatre, which has been published in a Melbourne newspaper, in support of the allegation, contained in the resolution. The manager, in question had literally to 'dun' the private secretary before he could obtain any answers to his letters or an acknowledgment of his claim, and at last reaped scarcely any personal advantage from his persistency. The nights upon which his Excellency, the Governor visited the places of amusement free, in company, with his Royal Highness the Duke of Edinburgh have been struck out of the list's that have been produced, as your committee acknowledge with gratitude the patronage and assistance given by his Royal Highness to the Galatea amateur performances contributed £120 11s. 6d. to the building fund of the Asylum of Decayed Actors, established by the Hon. George Coppin. Your committee, in conclusion, report that the terms of the resolution are fully borne out by the facts.— Richard Capper, chairman of the committee.

(To be continued.)

The Vice-Regal indignation of Lord Canterbury, filtered through Aide-de-camp Rothwell, at being bowled out in his dead-headism, was extremely amusing. The 'great dailies' were compelled to publish the report of the subcommittee, notwithstanding their abuse of Geo. Coppin and his associates, and their desire to stand well with the Government House set. But as the 'great dailies' did not publish all the correspondence, George Coppin did, and with alliteration worthy of John Norton's best efforts he gave it to the world :— 'Concise Clippings! Concentrate Conclusions!' and a 'round unvarnished tale' of the trouble

between 'The Governor, the Dramatic and Musical Profession,' and 'The Press and Mr. Coppin.'

On the publication of the details as given in the 'Sportsman' last week Lieutenant Rothwell demanded of Mr. Coppin an immediate account, which, he repeated, would be examined, and if found correct, paid. On Mr. Coppin refusing to recognise any debt in connection with admissions to theatres, the irate Lieutenant announced that Viscount Canterbury would immediately place the matter in the hands of his solicitor. One can understand a solicitor making a demand for a debt, but the demanding of the immediate furnishing of an account is another matter. You may lead a horse to a trough, etc., etc., and George Coppin proved equally obstinate. Eleven months after, Mr. Morton Tavares, from his pig ranch in New Zealand— the esthetic Tavares took to rearing pigs in the late years of his residence in Maoriland— wrote Mr. Coppin, per favor of the 'Australasian,' thus : — 'Sir, — I find that you have claimed and received from the Governor of Victoria payments for his visits and command nights to your theatre. You are aware that his Excellency commanded a night during the first week of my engagement with you. I am therefore entitled to half the amount he paid on that occasion.' (If George Coppin gave Tavares one half the gross receipts, as this demand would indicate, the said George Coppin must have been demented at the time.) 'As far as I am concerned, I was quite contented with the honor of his presence and with the presence also of the Marquis of Normanby and Lady, whom he brought with him, especially as their visit brought a good house.

'Do you not think it rather ungentlemanly to 'solicit' that he would give a command, and then ask him to pay for it? For you told me you intended doing so, and you also said that you did not expect him to pay for it.

'You cannot claim that I am not entitled to it on account of the arbitration, because that only related to releasing you from the balance of the six months' engagement I had with you. You paid me for the fortnight I played at the Royal, and the visit of the Governor was on the second night of my appearance.' (Tavares was such an awful frost that George Coppin, at the end of a fortnight, asked to be relieved of the balance of the six months' engagement, and a sum as compensation was fixed by arbitration.)

'You will please pay over the amount to the Editor of the 'Australasian,' or any person he may appoint, to be given in charity to some one of the benevolent societies of Victoria.— Yours, etc., Morton Tavares.'

***

To this Mr. Coppin replied:—

'To the Editor of the 'Australasian.' Sir, — I regret that the unpleasant subject of his Excellency the Governor's visits to places of public amusement, without paying for admission, has been revived by the publication of a letter from Mr. Morton Tavares in last week's 'Australasian.' As the first line of his epistle is a mis-statement, I shall not go beyond it, and will simply deny that I have ever claimed payment from the Governor for his visits and command nights at my theatre. On the contrary, I have declined to furnish an account, under the conviction that his Excellency ought to have carried out the established rule of previous Governors by presenting a cheque for whatever amount he considered becoming the dignity of the Queen's representative for the occupation of the Vice-Regal box. As this subject is again unfortunately thrust before the public, I trust you will allow me to state the position of the case at this moment. Upon the publication of the unanswerable report of the Council of the Australasian Dramatic Association, his Excellency announced in the newspapers that he should place the matter in the hands of his solicitors. More than two months ago, a communication was received from his solicitors stating that : 'We are instructed by his Excellency Viscount Canterbury to request that you will, without delay, furnish us with a memorandum,' etc., etc. An immediate reply was sent, and there the matter rests — waiting, I presume, his Excellency's further instructions before another step can be taken towards a settlement of an obligation emphatically repudiated, but thoroughly proved— Yours, etc., George Coppin.'

* * *

When Mr. Richard Capper presented the report of the sub-committee respecting the Vice-Regal 'dead-heads,' he, being followed by others, made a very interesting speech. Mr. Capper, be it remembered was a very old actor, of the respectable stock type, not perhaps in the first flight, but good enough and solid enough for the times in which he flourished. He had retired from the stage in 1850, so that his re-appearance in connection with the Dramatic Association was a labor of love. In addition, Mr. Capper was an author of some ability. In 1868 he published a volume in Melbourne, entitled, Dramatic Illustrations of Ancient History, Arranged for the Stage.' The volume included 'Judith' (niece of William the Conqueror), 'The Mummy Makers of Epypt,' 'Eurynome,' 'Centheres,' 'Eadburga,' 'Babylon,' and 'Nimrod the Hunter.' I am not aware that any of the plays were put upon the stage.

In presenting his report, Mr. Capper said some bitter things about the press. It must be admitted that actors and writers have generally, at some time or other, a quarrel with the press. Actors, as a rule, are very touchy, and, when offended, threaten to 'bash' editors and newspaper men generally.

Mr. Capper commenced by remarking that it had been publicly stated that the committee were mere marionettes, whose strings were in the hands of Mr. Coppin. To that statement he wished to give the most emphatic denial. For his own part he had had no connection with theatrical management, or theatres since 1850. He was a gentleman living on his means. He was quite independent of Mr. Coppin and of Viscount Canterbury, and he believed the other two gentlemen comprising the committee to be equally independent. But no opinion of the 'Argus' was worthy of respect. They had only to look over the columns of that journal for the past 22 years to see its profligacy and villainy in every way. The 'Argus' pursued a 'disgraceful course in connection with the Ballarat riots, and it was that paper which killed Sir Charles Hotham. Its villany was now directed at spiting him, but he cared nothing for it.

With regard to the 'dead-head' business, it seemed to him that his Excellency the Governor was utterly ignorant of the course which became the dignity of an English nobleman. It was the custom, whenever the representative of the Queen gave his patronage to an entertainment, to return a sum proportionate to the gratification he had received, and calculated to support the honor and dignity of the lady he represented. Here we had a Governor, who was paid a handsome salary, and it was his duty to maintain the honor and dignity of the Crown of England. If he did not do so he deserved to be told of it. In England the patronage of a nobleman to an unknown actor often procured him an engagement on the London boards; but what was meant by a command night here he did not know. It appeared to him to mean nothing but the Governor going on the cheap. The theatres of this country had done a good deal for charities. The Melbourne Hospital was commenced with money raised by a theatrical performance; and when an emigrant ship was wrecked, 416 souls perishing, the seven survivors were presented by the Rev. Mr. Thompson with a large sum of money raised in the same way. As to the patronage of Governors, he held in his hand a bill of theatrical performances patronised by Governor Snodgrass in 1836, and on the morning after those performances, Governor Snodgrass sent 37 sovereigns!

The emigrant vessel alluded to by Mr. Capper was the Cataraqui, bound from Liverpool to Port Phillip, wrecked off King's Island, in Bass Straits, August 4, 1845. The official record says that 414 were lost and nine saved. Mr. Capper is, I think, in error as to the status of Colonel Kenneth Snodgrass in 1836. In that year the Colonel was Major of Brigade and senior officer in command of the troops, having his office in the Barrack yard in George-street and his private residence at Barham Hall, Darlinghurst, afterwards the house of E. Deas-Thomson. From December 6 1837, to February 23 1838, the Colonel was Acting-Governor on the departure of Sir Richard Bourke, and prior to the arrival of Governor Gipps. As senior military officer he would be Lieutenant-Governor.

Mr. Wilton was not quite so irate as Mr. Capper, but he was perfectly independent in the matter. The greatest possible care had been taken to check all the accounts lest an error should creep into the report. He was connected with Hussey's entertainment at the time the Governor's patronage was given. Though the performances were drawing crowded houses at the time, the whole of the centre of the hall was cleared and fitted-up at great expense for the convenience of the Vice-Regal party, yet not a shilling was received. He was sure there was no member of the association who did not regret that the Governor should find himself in the position of being contradicted on a statement which ought to have been cautiously considered before it was inserted in a newspaper. It was very singular that, according to the letters of Lieutenant Rothwell, the Governor should not know of a single instance in which he had attended places of public amusement without paying. A large amount of sympathy was justly felt for Mr. Coppin, who had been abused right and left for his action in a matter the whole responsibility of which rested with the Council of the Association. There was no body of men who had behaved more liberally to charitable institutions than the theatrical body. It was rare for a respectable travelling theatrical company to pass through a country town without giving a performance for the local hospital, or some such institution.

Mr. 'Jimmy' Simmonds, the third committeeman, made no comment on the report. This gentleman must not be confounded with the old-time actor of the same name, located for many years in Sydney. This Simmonds, who died comparatively young, was a good-looking Hebrew, a low comedian of fair renown, and was for a time lessee of the Haymarket Theatre, Melbourne. Mr. Simmonds was not very successful in management; in fact, I don't think anyone did succeed well in the management of the Haymarket. The Keans did well, but then they were under exceptional patronage, the Governor, Sir Charles Darling, having, it was said, Royal orders to see that the Keans succeeded.

George Coppin took up the thread of the discourse, and, in moving the adoption of the report, complimented the gentlemen forming the sub-committee on the great moderation displayed in its preparation. He thought they had acted wisely in selecting only a few of the more important cases to report upon. He also thought they had acted very judiciously in erasing the nights his Excellency the Governor had visited the theatre with H.R.H. the Duke of Edinburgh. The Prince was a distinguished visitor to these colonies, and it was not at all surprising that the doors of every public place of amusement were thrown open to him; while it was most gratifying to all to know that the attention shown his Royal Highness had not been forgotten by him. The great interest the Prince took in the establishment of the Dramatic Association, in imitation of his Royal mother, was illustrated by his own personal exertions in forwarding the amateur performances of the Galatea Company, which contributed upwards of £120 to the funds of the asylum, attached to the Association. The prominence which the Prince had given to our much-respected townsman and artist, M. Chevalier, in London, should be accepted as a proof of his good will, and his last act of consideration in regard to the son of poor Aspinall must touch the sympathies of every Australian colonist. Every outspoken man who was not afraid to speak in suppression of an abuse was sure to meet with the censure of the toadies. Since this present exposure had been made, he (Mr. Coppin) had certainly had a very liberal share of abuse, both privately, professionally and politically. He could afford, however, to laugh at such terms as 'meanness' and 'cowardice,' for his character was so well engraved in the minds of all colonists that whatever opinions might have been formed of him privately would not be displaced by a very injudicious and ill-advised article in a very violent newspaper. His theatre had been compared to a sinking ship, and himself to a sinking manager struggling to make one last kick before going down, but so long as he had public opinion on his side, his head would have to be poked under water several times before he was drowned. Again, his theatre had been given up to 'unsavory costermongers and foul-mouthed roughlings.' This was certainly very complimentary to the thousands of people who had recently attended the Theatre Royal. But the greatest discovery of all was, that they found out that he was no actor —that he was simply disgusting, and not amusing. It was gratifying to him to know that so many people liked to be disgusted. These remarks would go very well alongside of many rather complimentary notices he had received from the same newspaper. Why was this thus? Why this abuse from persons who did not believe in what they wrote, and certainly did not think what they said. It was simply because he declined to take upon himself the responsibility of answering a letter addressed to the chairman of the association— in other words, to usurp the functions of the council. Let them apply this to a bank, a hospital, or any such institution, and see how it would act. If the same thing were to occur again he should act in precisely the same manner, in consideration of the subject due to his brother directors. As to his 'Paul Pry' speech, he took all the subjects from the newspapers, and he claimed an equal right with any press man to criticise public events either as Paul Pry or George Coppin. (In explanation of this Mr. Coppin, as Paul Pry, always delivered a stump speech on current events.) He was accused, very absurdly, of desiring to throw mud at the Governor, because his Excellency was the representative of Royalty. The idiot who wrote these words knew as little of his political history as he did of his professional standing. He challenged anyone to show that, during the 30 years he had been in this country, he had not always been a most loyal and conservative member of the community. If he had anything to blame himself for, it was that his respect for the institutions of the old country had checked his desires to keep pace with the requirements of the times. If the Home Government continued its policy of sending out as Governors needy gentlemen who pocketed the money of the colonists to relieve their encumbered estates in England, he said that the sooner they elected a Chief Magistrate from amongst themselves the better. And he would tell the 'Argus' this, that the want of dignity and liberality on the part of some of our colonial Governors was having the effect of rapidly changing Conservatives into Democrats, and of driving Democrats into Republicanism. There was an English Act of Parliament which provided a retiring allowance for Colonial Governors after they had served a certain time, upon the presumption that it was necessary to maintain a certain dignity by spending the amount they received in the colony in which they resided. It only required a Colonial Act of Parliament to compel the Governor to spend his salary. People had asked him, 'What would you do if you were Governor?' Well, he would take a private box at the opera or theatre, and give the manager so much a year. He would not shuffle out of State balls on the Queen's Birthday. If there was no room large enough for the purpose he would spend £200 or £300 in procuring one, so that those who had a right to be present on such occasions should not miss the annual entertainment. If from any such circumstances as a death in the family the ball would be indecorous, he would select a future day on which to spend the money he received for the special purpose of this celebration. He would also accept invitations to races, take the luncheons, and drink the wines, but he would give a Governor's Cup to be run for, or a Queen's Plate, or a Victorian Purse, in recognition of the hospitality he had received. He would also subscribe to the Horticultural Society. If he went to dog or poultry shows he would either give a prize or pay for admission. Which was all doubtless very severe upon Lord Canterbury and certain members of his family.

(To be continued.)