Joseph Michael Forde

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

AN OLD PLAYHOUSE.

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(By 'Old Chum.')

This bit of old Castlereagh-street is reminiscent of many incidents and many people. Half a century ago the site was occupied by two rows of tenements known as Garrick's Buildings. In the mid-sixties the Victoria Hotel was known as the New Caledonia, and kept by Johs F. Wannemacher. In the year 1866 the building on the opposite corner was opened as the Scandinavian Hotel by William T. Johnson. In the following year the New Caledonia closed, but was re-opened in 1870 by John A. Kean, as the Columbia Hotel, while the Scandinavian was converted into a place of public entertainment under the name of St. James's Hall. In 1872 William Kavanagh kept the hotel, and St. James's was converted into the Scandinavian Music Hall with Mr. William Johnstone as proprietor. Michael John Power kept the Columbia, in the latter part of 1874, and John Sullivan had the "Scan," as an athletic hall. Johnny was a light-weight pug who was turned out of the Prince of Wales Hotel when the Prince of Wales Theatre was burned down in January, 1872. In 1876 Mr. James McDonald had the Columbia, and the "Scan" was a deserted and somewhat derelict building. In 1879 James Coll had the hotel, and the hall was occupied as a billiard saloon by George Gamferty. It remained so until the year 1882— the year of the picture — when the pub was kept by Michael Breal under a wine license, and the "Scan" was known as the Victoria Hall, D'Arcy Reed, manager. Subsequently Mr. Reed obtained a license for the hotel. Mr. Reed was well known in connection with 'Pepper's Ghost,' but the writer regrets to say that he was not successful in later years. At 103 Mr. C. Jenner had established himself as a coachbuilder in 1875. On the corner opposite the hotel was 'Punch' office — you can read the legend on the window — with Mr. William Berdoe as editor and proprietor. The shop on other side of the hall entrance was occupied by Mr. R. W. Skinner, the old-time second-hand bookseller, who, though dead, his name still liveth in the same street and in the same business. Poor Skinner used to have a lamp over his door with 'Food for Worms' inscribed thereon. He has been 'food for worms' now for many years. The big buildings were occupied by Mrs. Marshall as a boarding establishment. The Hotel Arcadia and the Imperial Arcade now occupy the site. In the latter end of '84 D'Arcy Reed still kept the hotel, but the hall had become the Academy of Music. About a year after James Sharp succeeded D'Arcy Reed, and Mr. F. Scholer became proprietor of the Academy of Music, with Mr. J. H. Rainford and Mr. F. E. Hiscocks as lessees. Mr. Rainford, tired of his lesseeship, left Mr. Hiscocks alone in his glory. Mrs. Margaret Stephens succeeded Mr. Sharp, Mr. W. J. Wilson, the scenic artist, succeeded Mr. Hiscocks at the latter end of '88, or the beginning or '89. In 1891 the old pile of buildings shown as the Victoria Hall disappeared and the Garrick Theatre, built by Mr. Scholer, with Messrs. Wilson and Hiscocks as lessees, took its place. In the following year. Mr. Scholer appears to be running the Garrick Hotel, while Mr. E. Pooley is set down as manager of the theatre. Some fourteen years ago, Mr. Harry Rickards became lessee re-naming the house, The Tivoli; and by that name, interrupted by a big fire and rebuilding it, has been known ever since.

The play bills exhibited outside the Victoria indicate that the Shaughraun is the piece for the night, with Miss Marian Willis in a leading character. Many years have elapsed since then, and now Miss Willis re-appears at the Palace.

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In the eighties, when the Brothers Redmond came to Sydney on an Irish mission, they were unable to obtain a place in which to hold a meeting, proprietors being afraid of riot and 'ruxions,' and a wrecking of property. It was only by the exertions of Mr. Bernard Gaffney, the patriotic baker of Market-street, that the old Scandinavian Hall was obtained, and then only under heavy bonds against any damage that might be done to the ramshackle building and its furniture by rioters. But there was no riot, the 'burning eloquence' of Mr. John Redmond was enthusiastically cheered by his good-tempered countrymen, the only cause for discontent being, as Mr. Redmond said, the 'skulking behind the scenes of Mr. Dan O'Connor, the Javnal one, who was at that time running with the hare and hunting with the hounds politically.

In the mid-thirties, James Simmonds, at the old Royal in George-street, Sydney, produced 'The Gambler's Fate,' which subsequently some humourist, burlesqued under the title of 'The Elbow Shakers.' After that came some heavy specimens of old-time, drama, ''Venice Preserved' being one in which Simmonds played Pierre, and Meredith Renault, the wife of the latter being the Belvidera. Mr. Simmonds appears to have kept pace with the times, and gave the Royal patrons quick changes of programme, and a good variety at that. In 'The Honeymoon' the cast was : — Duke Aranga, Mr. Knowles; Rolando, Mr. Simmonds; Count Montalbon, Clement Peat; Balshazar, Palmer; Jacques, Meredith; Juliana, Mrs. Mackay; Volante, Miss Winstanley; Zamora, Mrs. Harriet Jones.

The lady mentioned here as Miss Winstanley was properly Mrs. Eliza Winstanley. She was an admirable actress, and had a wide reputation both in England and Australia. As a writer in after years said of her, she was one of the very best 'old women' in more senses than one. She was also an authoress of some repute, contributing profusely to English periodicals. She was the authoress of a very readable work, 'Shifting Scenes in Theatrical Life,' and an Australian novel (founded on facts) entitled 'Twenty Straws,' a very readable and interesting publication. Mrs. Winstanley was living in Geelong in 1880. I think she married a Mr. O' Flaherty, and for a time, in the early forties, played under this name. She, however, reverted to her earlier name, that by which she was best known both in England and Australia.

Mrs. Harriett Jones subsequently became the wife of Mr. Knowles, a leading actor of the time.

Mr. Clement Peat was the father of Mr. H. J. Peat, for many years connected with the commercial department of the 'Town and Country Journal' in the lifetime of Mr. Samuel Bennett, and was the originator and founder of the Friendly Societies dispensaries which exist today. In recognition of his good work in this direction the societies erected a very handsome memorial over his grave at Rookwood. Clement Peat, the actor, on retiring from the stage, went into trade as a publican, I think, in a house known as 'Jack Straw's Castle,' at Pyrmont. In the sixties and seventies he was established as a pawnbroker in Botany-street, better known as Flinders-street, Darlinghurst, where he died.

A writer, who some years ago was writing of this early dramatic period, noted that in the mid-thirties 'first times' were very frequent at the then Theatre Royal. In January 1835, 'Pizzaro' was produced, with Meredith as Pizzaro, Knowles as Alonzo, Simmons as Alilaba, Miss Bland (Mrs. Meredith) as Elvira, and Mrs. Mackay as Cora. Strange to say, no mention is made of the hero, Rolla, a part played in after months by James Simmons, and somewhat out of his line I should say.

In this year (1835) Mr. Thos. Stubbs assisted Mr. Levey by giving a solo on the Kent bugle. Mr. Simmons and other members of the company had left, hence the necessity for seeking a little outside assistance. The Mr. Thomas Stubbs mentioned here became a person of some importance in the City of Melbourne, and has left some descendants of note.

Mr. Thomas Stubbs was in early life in Sydney an auctioneer's clerk, the auctioneer being Mr. Simmons, whose place of business was, I think, in Hunter-street. Mr. Stubbs was afterwards in business for himself in King-street, on the southern side, between George and Pitt streets. In the late forties he went to Melbourne, where he started business, and was one of the chief knights of the hammer in that city. He became a foremost citizen, a churchwarden of St. James', and died universally regretted. He was generally known as the Colonial Robbins, his advertisements being quite poetical in character. On his death, in 1878, the 'Australasian' honoured his memory with a couple of columns of biography. Another journal thus spoke of him: — 'The death of Mr. Thomas Stubbs takes away another of the social landmarks of the colony. He was a man whom everybody liked, and who deserved that everybody should like him. He was believed, and with good reason, to be a natural Son of George IV, and certainly, if facial resemblance be any guide to paternity, there could be little doubt of the connection. He was, moreover, a good specimen of the gentleman of the Georgian period, being compact, portly, and well balanced. He was genial, social, and full of anecdote, and, as on auctioneer of the ornate order, he had no rival.' The above is an accurate description of Tom Stubbs, as I knew him. A son Robert, who was in business as an auctioneer in George street, Sydney, adopted the ''hyphen," and was known as Mr. Robert Fitz-Stubbs. This gentleman married a lady of means, who was a witness when a girl to an awful murder, which has remained a mystery now for 60 years. Miss Maud Fitz-Stubbs, the eminent pianiste, is a daughter of Mr. Robert Fitz-Stubbs, and grand-daughter of the eloquent knight of the hammer of Sydney in the thirties and forties, and later in gold roaring fifties of Melbourne.

Mr. Simmonds was an active stage manager, and as things were, he thought he saw an opening for another play house. There were several concert rooms in Sydney, but no regularly licensed theatre except the Royal. A notable event in music about this time was a concert given at the Pulteney Hotel concert room by Mrs. Taylor, 'after her recovery from a serious illness.' She was assisted by Messrs. Knowles, Simmons, Gordonovitch (a Polish refugee), Tom Stubbs, and Bonnar (who played the guitar), and Mr. Cavendish, a noted pianist, who had a somewhat mysterious history, and who lost his life by drowning in Sydney Harbor. Of him, more hereafter. The tickets for the concert were 7s 6d, and the chronicler says that the attendance was not by any means as numerous as was anticipated.

Mr. Simmons, before seceding from the Royal, took a monster farewell benefit and was a veritable Pooh Bah on the occasion. He appeared as Leporello in the operatic burlesque of ‘Don Giovanni’ Mrs. Taylor playing the Spanish roué. Mr. Simmons 'doubled' as Jerry and the Doctor, and afterwards as Anthony in the 'Rival Valets,' with Mrs. Taylor as Susan Fielding. Between the pieces there was an Indian dance. When Mr. Simmons left Mr. Levey he was followed by Messrs. Knowles and Buckingham and Mrs. Jones, they having also a disagreement with the management. The manager, however, had some pluck and bore up under his trials. He produced a burlesque on 'Don Giovanni,', named 'Giovanni in London,' with Miss Douglas as the Young Scamp, introducing into the part no less than forty-one songs.

A little controversy subsequently arose in connection with the 'star,' Mrs. Taylor. The lady had been announced to appear at the theatre, but had declined on the ground that she was not under engagement. Mr. Levey then published a note subscribed to by Messrs. Sippe and Stubbs to the effect that he had engaged Mrs. Taylor in the presence of these gentlemen, at £1 per night! To this Mrs. Taylor replied that she had not definitely accepted the terms, but had agreed to give an answer in a day or two, and that Mr. Levey had announced her without waiting for her reply. The 'Gazette' considered Mr. Levey's conduct in announcing the lady as 'highly reprehensible.'

Six gentlemen formed a syndicate or commonwealth to direct the theatre for a fortnight. Most of the old corps dramatique joined the new management, 'The Strangers' being the first piece produced. 'Jane Shore' was another production. Some new performers were obtained and, as an improvement, it was announced that in future 'No bonnets would be allowed in the dress circle.' The cart-wheel hat was on unknown quantity then. The new company consisted of Simmons as stage manager, Knowles, Mackay (described as a steady actor for lead or second parts), Buckingham, Peat, Dyball, Winters and Master Jones, Mesdames Taylor, Jones, Mackay and Larra, with the Misses Winstanley and Douglass. Mr. Cavendish was the musical director. The 'Commonwealth' adhered to the four nights a week. 'The Pilot,' 'She Stoops to Conquer,' and others of a similar character were produced. Governor Bourke gave a 'bespeak' when the 'Mountaineers ' was produced, with a variety of other entertainments.

In September, Simmons took a benefit, the advertisement for which occupied two columns of the 'Gazette.'

About this time there arrived from Drury Lane Mrs. Chester, who made her first appearance in October, 1835, as Clari in 'The Maid of Milan.' I have before me a playbill of the farewell benefit and last appearance on the stage of this lady. It was at the Theatre Royal, Melbourne, in 1862. The initial piece was 'The Lady of Lyons,' the Claude Melnotte being Mr. John Hayward, an old actor who had retired from the stage and, taken to civic life. He, in time, returned to the stage as Mr. Deorwyn, and brought with him his two daughters, now Mrs. Richard Stewart, jun., and Mrs. Charles Holloway. The Colonel Dumas was Mr. H. R. Harwood, and Samuel Hawker Banks was the Caspar. Mrs. Chester was the Widow Melnotte, Mrs. Alfred Phillips (an actress and an authoress of no mean repute) being Madame Deschapelles. A petite concert followed, in which Octavia Hamilton (Mrs. Moon) and Mrs. Frederick Younge (a daughter of Haydyn Corri) appeared. The farce was 'Teddy the Tiler,' Mrs. Chester playing Lady Dunderford, and Mr. J. Simmons Teddy the Tiler. Thus, after a lapse of nearly 30 years, these two ancient players came together again.

Towards the end of the year 1835, Mr. Simmons announced that he had leased the theatre and intended to introduce some London novelties. One of these was a new system for box visitors; anyone engaging would receive a key admitting him at pleasure. Season tickets were issued at £5. The front of the house was placed under the direction of Mr. William Knight. On off-nights Mrs. Taylor gave entertainments similar to those subsequently given by Mr. and Mrs. George Case, and Mr. Simmons followed suit with entertainments after the manner of the elder Mathews.

The year 1836 saw the arrival of a new actor, all the way from Van Diemen's Land, a Mr. Spencer who made a big hit as Richard the Third. Colly Cibbers' version, presumably.

The Mr. Knight, who had the management of the front of the house, was the same gentleman who afterwards kept the Shakespeare Tavern in Pitt-street; and first opened the northeast of George and King streets, in 1849, as an inn, under the name of the Golden Fleece. Mr. Knight and Mr. William Dind were afterwards in partnership in matters theatrical, both being highly esteemed citizens, who have left many descendants.

It was in 1836 that Vincent Wallace, who arrived in Sydney three years before, gave a grand concert in the saloon of the Royal Hotel in the presence, of the Governor. He was assisted by the band of the 17th Regiment, the members of a Glee Club which then existed, and some Sydney amateurs. The tickets were 7s 6d, and the concert was an immense success. The press said that Mr. Wallace's performance marked the commencement of a 'new era in the chronology of music in the Colony.'

William Vincent Wallace was born at Waterford in 1815, his father being band master of the 29th Regiment. When only 14 years of age Vincent was placed in the orchestra of the Theatre Royal, Hawkins-street, Dublin. He took the direction of the orchestra in 1831 — 16 years of age! — but his health failed, under the labour, and his father found him an easier billet in the R.C. Church at Thurles. In 1833 he was recommended to try a sea voyage, and came to New South Wales, where he commenced as a teacher of music. In Sydney he was joined by his sister Eliza, a vocalist of fine repute. The brother and sister gave many excellent concerts, and may be esteemed the pioneer of high-class music in Sydney. The sister subsequently married Mr. John Bushelle, a singer of excellent standing, known in Sydney society as 'The Knave of Diamonds,' from his alleged resemblance to that card, but more likely from a certain connection with 'brilliants' which brought him to Sydney.

Wallace and his sister gave a concert in aid of St. Mary's Cathedral, which realised £1000. While in Sydney Wallace commenced the composition of his opera 'Maritana.' He was then living at the corner of Castlereagh-street and Brougham-place — now Rowe-street— the Australia Hotel being on the spot. In 1845 Wallace left Sydney, via America, for London, where he completed 'Maritana.' His fame, however, does not rest solely on this opera, as he composed many others. He died in Paris in 1865. The sister, Madame Wallace Bushelle, died at her residence, 149 William-street, Woolloomooloo, in August 1878.

In June 1879, this Mr. James Simmons gave an evening's entertainment at the Masonic Hall, in York-street, something after the style of the elder Mathews. In reintroducing himself to the Sydney public, Mr. Simmons described the city as it was half a century before, when the Theatre Royal was just finished in George-street, and Governor Ralph Darling refused it a license because Barnet Levey, the proprietor, built a flour mill on the upper story. Performances then, according to Mr. Simmons, took place in the prisoners' barracks (gaol?). Mr. Simmons fairly convulsed the audience with his mimicry of actors, judges, barristers, police magistrates, and other known citizens. Many of the old colonists present recognised the portraits. The old gentleman, grown young again, sang comic songs which were popular in the days when Darling and Bourke ruled 'the system.'

When Mr. James Simmons retired from the management of the George-street Royal, Mr. Joseph Wyatt took the reins. Mr. Wyatt was a well-known business man, of very small stature, but of wonderful energy. He was in business for many years in Pitt-street as a leather merchant and ironmonger, his premises being next to the School of Arts. Mr. Wyatt was great at property investments, and speculated wisely and well. When 'Moore's corner' was cut up, in 1834, Mr. Wyatt bought 25ft frontage to George-street by a depth of 86ft to King-street (N.E.), at £55 10s per foot, the record price then. Mr. Wyatt appointed Mr. Knowles as his stage manager, and Mr. Wyatt's usual good luck followed him. While lessee of the George-street Royal Mr. Wyatt said that there was a good opening for another theatre in Sydney. Population had largely increased, and the price given for real property, as indicated by his own purchases, and the really good buildings going up in Sydney in the mid-thirties, indicated that Sydney had outgrown its bushy character, and was becoming a place of importance. Mr. Wyatt therefore thought that the time had come when a playhouse on a grand scale was needed, and that the speculation would pay. On September 7, 1836, the foundation-stone of the Victoria Theatre in Pitt-street was laid with full Masonic honours by Mr. R. Broad, the gentlemen of the 'mystic tie' assembling in full force to do justice to the occasion. The architect was Mr. Henry Robertson, and the theatre was opened on March 7, 1838 with 'Othello.'

(To be continued.)

In answer to a correspondent, I have no knowledge of what became of Mr. Morton Tavares and his wife, the stage name of the lady being Surtees. In the latter part of 1871 they had an engagement with Mr. Thomas Bennett at the Victoria Theatre, when, amongst other novelties, was produced "The Two Roses." Mr. Tavares was an irritable actor, a mass of conceit, and more or less a failure upon the stage. Miss Surtees was a gentle lady, and excelled in mild characters. I understood that they settled in New Zealand, on a farm, where they engaged in raising stock.

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In the course of these articles I have made frequent mention of Mr. G. R. Ireland, and I have also said that when a thespian gets a nasty knock in the press the knocked individual frequently resorts to abuse, and, where he can afford it, to the law. Morton Tavares, of whom mention was made in connection with George Coppin's complaint against Viscount Canterbury for his dead-headism, had a set-to with a New Zealand paper, whose editor took exception to something or other: and at the same time Julia Mathews threatened to 'deal with' the same editor, but whether she would use her tongue (and she could), or invest a shilling in a cowhide, as did Madame Zavistowski at Sandhurst, the little lady did not explain. When the actor has money to lose, and a decent reputation to maintain, we must not be surprised if he does rush into law, not, perhaps, with the intention of wasting the one, but to keep up the other. Such was the action at law entered by G. R. Ireland against a newspaper— a trade journal; in fact—the 'Licensed Victuallers' Gazette,' exactly thirty years ago.

Mr. Ireland is a colonist of half a century's standing. When I knew him first, in the late fifties, he was clerk in the office of Brodribb, Crisp and Lewis, in Bank Place, off Chancery-lane. The same Bank Place, on the corner of which stood the Waterloo Inn, kept at one time by a little old-fashioned Cockney named Wicks. Later on by a man of the world, Harry Taylor, who knew most of the old time English fighting men, and whose house in Chancery-lane was the resort of the best and steadiest men in the Victorian ring. Later on George Mayger, well known now in the racing world, opened the Mitre Tavern at the Collins-street end of Bank Place, and later on, when Harry Taylor retired with a fortune, the ''old Waterloo" was demolished, and an immense pile of offices erected on the site.

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While in the service of Brodribb, Crisp and Lewis, Mr. Ireland was a member of the Garrick Club, and appeared several times with considerable success as an amateur. His greatest hit was as the ghost, in 'Hamlet,' his deep chest voice, tall figure, and somewhat spare shanks suiting the physical part of the character admirably. Mentally, Mr. Ireland's ghost was all that could be desired. I do not know that any actor, however eminent, can make much out of the buried Majesty of Denmark ; a good elocutionist, well drilled, well dressed, and the text does the rest. Mr. Ireland had other parts which he played with equal care. He was ambitious of appearing on the professional stage, and G. V. Brooke gave him the opportunity. The first piece selected, not for Mr. Ireland's first professional appearance (he was only a circumstance in it) was "The Two Gentlemen of Verona," the first representation of the play in Australia. Brooke was the Valentine, Heir Proteus, Harwood Antonio, The Duke Creswick (not the Creswick), Lambert Speed, Wigan Launce. Mrs. Heir was the Julia; the Abbess was the recently dead Mrs. Guerin. The small part of Eglamour was assigned to Mr. Ireland. The part consists of just seven lines in the fifth act; these lines Mr. Ireland read correctly. As an intelligent man he got on, one of his prominent characters in his early stage life being Cassio to the Othello, I think, of Brooke.

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In giving evidence in support of his case, Mr. Ireland said that his line of business was 'leading juvenile man.' Mr. Ireland denied all the imputations in the libellous article, produced the costume he wore, and showed that he had been called before the curtain twice. Dampier was called three times. Ireland played the part as he always played it, even with such a lion in the profession as Walter Montgomery. The piece ran for three weeks, and the audience never expressed any disapprobation. Mr. G. P. Smith appeared for the newspaper. This gentleman had a tongue sharp as a razor and a temper as rough as a file. He was the gentleman who a few years before narrowly escaped losing his life at the hands of Gerald Henry Supple, a brother barrister, an ex-detective named Walsh losing his life as the time. Mr. Supple was nearly blind, and in firing mistook one for the other. Mr. Smith's first inquiry as to Mr. Ireland's scrap book, of the cuttings therein, were all laudatory. Then he wanted to know if the actor had not been termed "stagey and stockey." Ireland's counsel objected to this line of cross-examination. But the Judge, Justice Williams the elder (it was about the last case he tried), held that criticism must necessarily be based upon the general characteristics of the man. It was almost impossible to sever the acting of any particular piece from general acting.

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In September, 1873, Mr. Dampier made his first appearance in Melbourne in "Faust and Marguerite" at the Theatre Royal. At the old theatre Mr. Ireland had been playing 'off and on' for 14 years. Dampier played Mephistopheles, and Ireland Faust. The "Licensed Victuallers' Gazette," owned by W. F. King, S. A. King, John Proctor, William Turner, and A. F. Frazer, published a criticism of the performance, in which occurred this paragraph : —

"Faust, in the hands of that slovenly, careless actor, Mr. Ireland, was a farce. The great scene in which the piece opens rests on the sudden transformation of an old man into a sparkling, brilliantly dressed youth. Now, when the gown and beard were twitched off Mr. Ireland, he simply appeared dressed like an ordinary supernumary in solid garments. Then his delivery of his speeches were so low, sulky, and lifeless that we were inclined to think he had had some quarrel with the management about it. We leave him with disgust."

Mr. Ireland alleged that by means of this false and malicious libel he was disgraced and injured in his profession and reputation as an actor, and underwent great mental suffering; that his prospects of future engagements as an actor were injured and damaged, and that he was otherwise disgraced and injured. He claimed £1,000 as damages. A good deal of capital was made by Mr. Smith out of the dress worn. It was a new dress, and Ireland stated that he had only worn it three or four times. He admitted that the 'Argus' criticised him severely in the same character, and when asked 'why he had not sued the 'Argus,' Mr. Ireland replied that he thought he had not sufficient grounds. Mr. Smith tendered a bundle of newspapers with criticisms on Mr. Ireland's Faust, but as the opposing counsel objected, Smith said that he would call the writers. Ireland left the Royal in November, and was out of employment at the time of the hearing of the suit, but he could not say, that it was the libel that kept him idle.

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Mr. George Coppin gave evidence that he was one of the proprietors of the Theatre Royal. He had been then connected with the stage for more than 30 years. (Thirty added to that now makes 60, and the veteran is still going strong.) He had known Ireland for 14 years. There was nothing particularly noticeable about Mr. Ireland's dress as Faust. It was suitable to the occasion; the dress of a supernumerary would not be suitable. Mr. Ireland had no quarrel with the management. He was generally a good speaker and actor. The description of him as using low, sulky tones would not be correct, nor would the remarks about his being a slovenly, careless actor. No complaint was made by the management as to Mr. Ireland's acting. A supernumerary is the lowest grade in a theatre. To compare a leading man to a supernumerary is to degrade him. The remarks in the article were damaging to Mr. Ireland as an actor. If actors are strangers, managers look to theatrical criticisms before engaging them. Criticisms are looked upon as a sort of credentials.

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In the course of cross-examination. Mr. Coppin said that he had been instrumental in knocking off a number of free passes. The 'Licensed Victuallers' Gazette' was never on the free list of the Royal, and at that particular time the 'Argus' regularly paid its five shillings for its reporter.

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Mr. Dampier said that he had been an actor since his boyhood, his time being heavy leading characters ; he had played such parts for 11 or 12 years in English provincial theatres. Faust was a very unthankful part; however played, it did not bring much credit. If Faust were not well and effectively played, Mephistopheles would not tell so well with the audience. Mr. Ireland's performance was capable, careful and intelligent ; he was letter perfect in the part, and his tones were not low and sulky. He was not slovenly. It compared favorably with the dresses in which Mr. Dampier had seen other people play the part. Mr. Ireland, according to Mr. Alfred Dampier, was the reverse of being a careless, slovenly actor. If criticisms are fair, they are useful as advertisements.

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In cross-examination, Mr. Dampier admitted that the "L. V. Gazette." had been good to him, so good that he cut out the criticism and had pasted it in his scrap book. He had been pretty severely handled at times. The 'Argus' said that he was "awkward in action," "wooden in repose," with passion like the ranting of a 'London Journal' flunkey or a Belgravia Jeames. From that criticism Mr. Dampier said that he had suffered severely. That was the only time he had received such a severe slashing. He had cut it out and sent it home. Criticisms keep up the tone of the drama as well as advertise the actors. Frederick Belton who had arrived in Australia the year before, and had been 17 years on the stage, generally backed up Mr. Dampier's estimate of Mr. Ireland, and Mr. Arthur Gardiner (?) said ditto, ditto to Coppin, Dampier and Belton. Mr. Gardiner added that he had seen the article complained of circulated amongst the actors at the Theatre Royal, Hobart Town.

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The now veteran theatrical critic, James Edward Neild, was also a witness. He said that theatrical criticism was merely a matter of opinion; he quite agreed that criticism should be fair, impartial and candid; he had run counter to the opinions of many, even as to the capabilities of leading actors. From time to time he had pointed out some little faults of Mr. Ireland, but generally he had a very high opinion of him. He thought that he was one of the best actors that ever graced the Melbourne stage. He was certainly very much better than Mr. James Anderson. Dr. Neild thought that Mr. Ireland stood on a very respectable plane; in point of comparison, to Mr. Walter Montgomery, though he should prefer Mr. Montgomery. In the doctor's opinion Mr. Ireland ranked second to Mr. Montgomery. (Mr. Montgomery, it will be remembered, suicided September 1, 1871.) Dr. Neil hoped that his opinion would do Mr. Ireland good. He preferred G. V. Brooke to Mr. Ireland, but he thought Mr. Ireand would have made as good an actor as Brooke if he had the same experience. Brooke had more experience, and that made all the difference. (G. V. Brooke, it will remembered, perished in the steamship London, in January, 1866. I am sorry I cannot agree with Dr. Neild in his Montgomery-Brooke-Ireland comparisons). John Lynch (a journalist), Richard Stewart (an Actor), John Hanlon Knipe (an auctioneer), and Sam Kemp (a boot and shoe maker) gave evidence that they had frequently seen Mr. Ireland as Faust, and did not consider him slovenly.

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Miss Eleanor Carey (what memories this lady's name brings up, to be sure) gave evidence that she played Marguerite in the drama; that Faust and Marguerite are together - during nearly the whole of the drama. She had opportunities of observing Mr. Ireland's acting; it was not slovenly, and the dress was suitable to the occasion. Miss Carey said that she did not mind adverse criticism. She had never been libelled. She had read the "Licensed Victuallers' Gazette" article about herself: "Miss Carey failed in the great part of Marguerite. She went through it with her usual mouthing, and was intolerably stagey and ineffective." But that "does not touch my dress or personal appearance," added Miss Carey. For the defence, Donald Cameron, a journalist, said that he wrote the article, under the nom-de-plume of 'Cayenne.' He was not personally acquainted with Mr. Ireland. He never saw him, except on the stage, and had no dealings with him. Before he wrote the article he had read the criticisms in 'The Argus,' 'The Town and Country,' and 'The Leader.' Marcus Clarke wrote the criticism in 'The Argus,' Mr. Hughan in 'The Town and Country.' He did not know who wrote them for 'The Leader ' (These criticisms were admitted and read after discussion.) Mr. Cameron went fully into his reason for his 'hot' article. Amongst other reasons given was one that capable actors and actresses had to leave the country because incapables were employed, either because they were friends of the management, or the management was niggardly,

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Marcus Clarke said that he had the permission of the proprietors of 'The Argus' to say that, he wrote the criticism in that journal. He would not describe Mr. Ireland generally as a slovenly and careless actor. There was no misunderstanding between Mr. Clarke and the management of the Royal, as some had insinuated.

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F. W. Hughan, journalist, author of the article in 'The Town and Country,' and James Williams, of 'The Leader,' also gave evidence. Mr. Williams said that Ireland's dress looked seedy, and that he did not think him as good as Brooke or Montgomery.

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Robert P. Whitworth, better known among his confreres as Bob Whitworth, a theatrical critic and author, had seen Mr. Ireland act for a good long time. Although he had faults to find in him, he could not say that he was a careless, slovenly actor; he was quits the reverse.

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The quintette of proprietors gave evidence that they had no malice against Mr. Ireland. Mr. Justice Williams charged generally against the newspaper, and after a retirement of three-quarters of an hour the jury awarded the plaintiff £100 damages.

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

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

G. V. Brooke presented his Othello for the first time in Australia at the old Queen's Theatre in Queen-street, Melbourne, to, as a matter of course, an overflowing house. The prices were high, the lowest, if I remember rightly, being half-a-crown. There were Othellos before and after Brooke. I have seen most of them, and must still pin my faith to the ill-starred actor who went down in the London on that fateful day in January, 1866. Of course, I did not see Arabin, who opened the old—then new — Victoria Theatre in Pitt-street in 1838 in the character of the Moor; nor yet did I see Nesbitt M'Cron, whom the late Samuel Hawkes Banks considered equal to, if not excelling, Brooke. I saw the spluttering M'Kean Buchanan, the testy Bandmann, the old-school actor Creswick, and that other old-school actor James Anderson, Dampier, Carden, Clarence Holt, George Rignold, and an old Drury Lane actor who came out before Brooke went to England, but whose name has slipped my memory. I have seen minor actors play the part in stock companies, but neither major nor minor linger, so lovingly in the memory of old playgoers as Brooke. I remember one performance of 'Othello' at the old Royal, Melbourne, on a Saturday night, when the piece was so well played and staged in every detail that the hour of midnight struck as the curtain descended, and the afterpiece had to be abandoned. At one of Brooke's performances of Othello in the Melbourne Royal the Receipts reached £531 15s. I first saw Brooke in Australia as Evelyn in Bulwer Lytton's 'Money.' He had been fulfilling an engagement in Sydney, and had hurried to Melbourne on business, when advantage was taken to have one night's performance. That was in 1858. The house was crowded, and the actor apologised for having to play in his every-day costume, as his wardrobe was in Sydney. His first appearance was on the 10th of May, 1855, the play 'Othello' (in which he always opened). The Iago was Richard Younge ; the Cassio, Robert Heir ; Fanay Cathcart, Desdemona; Emilia, Mrs Guerin; the Brabantes, 'old Lambert.' But , Othello was not Brooke's only character, though it was the best of his Shakespearian. As Sir Giles Overreach, in 'A New Way to Pay Old Debts,' he was simply superb, his final scene being simply appalling. Mr. Barton told me that it equalled Edmund Kean's best effort, and Sir Giles was Kean's masterpiece outside Shakespearian drama. As Martin Walter in 'The Hunchback,' Matlow Elmore, ('Love's Sacrifice'), Virginius, and, characters of that stamp, no man has yet appeared in Australia to equal Brooke. He was the first to bring out here 'Louis XI.,' a part played by him in strong contrast to Charles Kean's rendering of the same character. It will be remembered that when Louis is plotting murder, the Angelus bell sounds, and the hoary old sinner takes off his cap ,to pray to the relics affixed to the headgear. Kean's rendering of that part caused the audience to laugh. Brooke was so solemn that the audience was hushed at the hypocrisy of the wretched monarch. But it was not alone in the heavy drama that Brooke flourished. His Irish comedy has never been excelled. The memory of his Felix O'Callaghan in 'On His Last Legs' can never fade. As Captain Murphy Maguire he kept the audience in a simmer of merriment from start to finish. The same with Pierce O'Hara in 'The Irish Attorney.' In low Irish comedy, of the John Drew and William O'Neill type, Brooke was a failure. He could act the gentleman, but not the bog-trotter.
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A good authority, Frank Brewer, in a little work published some years ago, entitled 'The Drama and Music in Australia,' says 'Brooke's reputation preceded him to Australia. His mental talents for the profession were of the highest order and his physical organisation was admirable. To a classical face of the Roman type and a well-formed majestic figure, was united a voice of exceptional volume and roundness, which he inflected with consummate skill. He was well educated, and had the manners of a polished gentleman. These natural and acquired elements to Brooke, to which a fine conceptive faculty was allied, eminently fitted him for the highest position in the realms of dramatic art. From 1848 to the time of his departure from England, he was probably one of the most popular actors in the United Kingdom yet; strange to say, the London critics and venerable playgoers were lukewarm towards him. Brooke certainly extracted from them unalloyed praise, his Master Walter was beyond the reach of cavil; but the admirers of Phelps and Charles Kean were so far prejudicial (no other word will express the exact state of feeling towards Brooke), that he was denied in London that full measure of approbation which was undoubtedly his due, without in any way detracting from the genius of Phelps, or the abilities, improved so much by study, of Kean. True; at times, Brooke was unequal to his performances. So was Edmund Kean, but in has great characters, when he rose to the top of his genius in Othello, Sir Giles, Master Walter, Matthew Elmore, Virginius, and others of his fine impersonations, he had in his best days no superior. High as was the opinion formed of Brooke in Sydney, he surpassed their expectations. The verdict was that he was the finest actor that had up to that time visited Australia. Had he devoted himself to comedy, particularly Irish comedy, he might have equalled Collins. In two characters he has not been surpassed in the colonies— Captain Murphy Maguire In “The Lerwin Family,” and O'Callaghan in “On His Last Legs.” The latter he made especially his own, and convulsed the audience with his amusing presentation of the volatile Irish gentleman reduced to the condition of living on his wits.
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In 1861, William Bede Dalley went to England as Immigration Lecturer, and in the same ship — the Great Britain— went G. V. Brooke. Dalley could appreciate talent in any man, and when the news of Brooke's death reached the colony, Dalley gave his opinion of the great actor to the world :— 'With one exception, that of Mr. Phelps, Mr. Brooke was unquestionably the first interpreter of Shakespeare upon the British stage. His physical advantages, voice, face, dignity of presence, instinctive gracefulness, were much greater than even those of Macready's great successor. But in subtle renderings, profound study and thought, Mr. Phelps was as no one more heartily acknowledged, than Mr. Brooke himself, the grander actor. I institute no comparison between him and a gentleman who recently visited this country, the bearer of a great dramatic name —Mr. Kean— and whose reputation is identified with spectacular representation in England, and my reason is simply this: that it would be a reflection upon the memory of Mr. Brooke to do so. Those who have never left this country, and whose acquaintance with the drama is exclusively derived from Mr. Brooke's acting, may be assured that in many respects nothing grander could be seen anywhere. The most fastidious critic was conquered into loving admiration by the mingled tenderness and terror of his Othello; while none could resist the melting softness of his accents in the last awful scene of fantastic sadness in which the noble Lear mingles 'matter and impertinency, reason and madness.' And then the life-like pictures of our own dear Irish humour and pathos, bringing, back to us by the magic of tone and gesture, scenes and times, and pleasures and sufferings. Where shall we ever see these again? In the Irish impersonations of Mr. Brooke one thing was very noticeable — no matter how low the character, there was always some hint of the gentleman in the performance. We have had many stage Irishmen in the colonies, notably Hudson, William O'Neill, John Drew, and John Collins, besides our local William Andrews, but none of them were ever on the same level as Brooke in portraying the Irish gentleman.
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When its good work could be of no service to the actor, then full fathom five in the Bay of Biscay, the -'London Times' pronounced a eulogy:— 'In January, 1848, Brooke appeared at the old Olympic Theatre, then under the management of Mr. Davidson. Virtually this was his first appearance in London, and not often has the approaching debut of an actor produced so large an amount of curiosity as in the case of G. V. Brooke. He had many offers from the metropolitan managers, but had refused them all, and these frequent negotiations, accompanied with news of brilliant successes in the provinces, kept his name before the Londoners, who 18 years ago were much more excitable on the subject of tragedy than they are at present. His performance of Othello, the part chosen for his first appearance, at once secured him a wide popularity. He repeated the part to creditable audiences for 30 successive nights, and for some weeks in 1848 he stood high amongst the theatrical lions of London, lively discussions as to his merits taking place in every assemblage where plays and players formed a topic of conversation. His physical advantages were very great. He had handsome and expressive features ; his figure was tall and commanding; and, above all, his voice not only rich and sonorous, but singularly capable of extremes of light and shade. It was in giving expression to violent emotions that be turned these natural gifts to the best account, and the storms of passion which distinguished his Othello and his Sir Giles Overreach were certain, in his best days, of commanding the tumultuous applause of thousands. He owed his proficiency not to crabbed art, but to fresh, healthy nature, and the 'inspired genius' is always a popular figure. A similar belief was entertained earlier in the century with respect to Edmund Kean, and among the theatrical gossips of 1848 those were not wanting who saw in G. V. Brooke the tragedian upon whom the mantle of Kean had fallen. In 1854 he took leave of the London public, and proceeded to Australia, where, as in America, his success was prodigious. He returned to London, after seven years' absence, in 1862, and again appeared as Othello at Drury Lane. When he perished in the s.s. London he was on his way to Melbourne to fulfil an engagement.'
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Just here I may be permitted to mention that Mr. and Mrs. J. B. Steele (Miss Adelaide Bowering) were engaged in London to support Brooke in his second tour in Australia. Mr. and Mrs. Steele came out in the sailing ship Western Ocean. I do not know whether the London passenger list was full, or Mr. George Coppin had on him a fit of economy, but it was fortunate for Mr. and Mrs. Steele that they came in the sailing ship. Mr. Steele informed me that the first they heard of the dreadful disaster to the London was from the pilot at Port Phillip Heads. I had the melancholy pleasure of spending an afternoon with Mr. Steele during the week. At 72 years of age he is still in good bodily health, but, alas! a cancer has attacked his tongue, and the once sweet voice of the well-graced actor is now merely a gutteral sound. Yet he bears his great misfortune with calm dignity, and is resignedly awaiting, as he says, 'the roll call.' Mrs. Steele died a few years ago in London.
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It was in the old theatre at Cork that Brooke made some of his earlier successes. In Dublin he was simply idolised. The houses he drew were packed. In Australia his countrymen rallied round him, and but for his weakness in the matter of strong drink his seven years' residence in Australia would have been a huge money success. I think, soon after the completion of his first engagement with Mr. Coppin, Mr . Brooke entered into partnership with that gentleman. They had a magnificent property to work upon. The Theatre Royal, the Olympic Theatre, and last, but not least, the splendid Cremorne Gardens, which had within its boundaries a bijou theatre, known as the Pantheon. Brooke appeared at the two first named, the Pantheon being given over to domestic drama of the drawing-room order. Cremorne Gardens were started by Mr. Coppin in 1856, little steamers plying on the Yarra conveying the patrons. They were grand times those old Cremorne days. A time came when Brooke and Coppin separated, the tragedian selecting the Theatre Royal as his share of the property, Mr. Coppin retaining the Gardens and the Olympic — the best end of the stick I have always thought. He (Brooke) engaged Robert Heir as his stage and general manager, Mrs. Heir being leading lady. Brooke was not content to sit at home at his ease, as the old song has it, but accepted engagements in all the cities and towns of the now Commonwealth. Bob Heir was not a success as a manager. I am afraid he was given to the production of plays which were calculated to 'show off' himself and his wife. Mrs. Heir was getting somewhat stale; in fact, the 'Argus' rudely told her that it was time she dropped Desdemona and took up Emelia; but what leading actress was ever known to adopt the advice of the press ? Mrs. Heir did not, though I think on one occasion she did play Emelia 'just to oblige' someone — Barry Sullivan, I think. To Bob Heir succeeded, as manager, a sterling old Sydney actor, Henry Edwards, who had joined with him in the management George Fawcett Rowe, but known only to us as George Fawcett. There were three brothers — George, Sandford, and Tom. Sandford generally looked after the front of the house, though on one occasion he played the part of Lord George Gordon in Fawcett Rowe's adaptation of Dickens' "Barnaby Rudge." The rule of Edwards and Fawcett continued some time, Brooke occasionally appearing in his best character, but unfortunately for himself, taking no interest in the working of the theatre. It was under the Edwards-Fawcett management that Brooke appeared in two original characters—in a one-act play, by Marston, I think, entitled 'Dreams of Delusion,' in which he performed the character of a mad doctor to perfection. The other original character was in a drama by R. H. Horne. 'The Death of Marlowe.' I am, however, not quite clear upon the point whether Brooke or Edwards played the leading part. The two little pieces held the stage for a week or so and then dropped out.
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While managing the Theatre Royal for G. V. Brooke, Edwards and Fawcett were also running the old Princess' in Spring-street, one of the very few theatres which escaped the ususal fate of theatres— fire— and where Marie Duret, Le Roy, Joseph Jefferson, and some other good men and women first appeared. Why and how Edwards, Fawcett, and Brooke "fell out," and George Coppin again fell in— don't misunderstand the phrase— with Gustavus Vaughan Brooke will be told another time.

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.

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.)

In these operatic and dramatic reminiscences I must not be suspected of writing a history of the colonial stage, a huge task in the present day. The early history of the drama in Sydney is very much obscured. Though dramatic talent was available in the very dark, dismal days of Botany Bay, the Governors, autocrats in everything, had 'objections,' not of a religious character, you may be assured, but fearsome of giving the 'bounded' population too much freedom and amusement. Yet one Governor did extend his sympathy to the unfortunates, and permitted the erection of a theatre by one Robert Sidaway. The Governor was John Hunter, and we are informed by “Our Historical Records,” the editor of which quotes from the “Edinburgh Advertiser” of May 18, 1798, that — “The theatre at Botany Bay was built entirely by the convicts, and cost about an hundred pounds. With singular propriety, the gallery is the largest part of the house. The admission is one shilling, which is paid either in money or in flour or meat. A benefit for the widow of a soldier who was drowned produced £12.” ‘Saunder's Newsletter” (Dublin) of September 12, 1797, mentioned that the ex-convict Sidaway was living in a state of ''great respectability,” and that he had a contract for serving the colony with bread, and a free grant of several hundred acres of land, which he cultivated. Mr. Sidaway was a first-fleeter, under a sentence of seven years transportation. He became a very prominent personage in the primitive commercial life of Sydney, and had a lease of land a little off George-street, between Charlotte-place and Margaret-street, where possibly stood the first theatre.

Mr. Sidaway does not appear to have taken any part in the management of the theatre. Possibly, as a capitalist, he erected the building at the request of some who had some experience in theatricals in the old country. The manager's name was Sparrow, and the actors named are Mrs. Davis, Messrs. Chapman, Green, Hawkes and Hughes. The pieces chosen for the opening night, January 6, 1796, were Young's tragedy "The Revenge," and the farce "The Hotel". It was on this historic occasion that the prologue, said to have been written by pickpocket George Barrington, “True Patriots We,” was spoken. After the theatre had been opened for a short time it had become popular, and every art was practised by the worst portion of the prisoner population, to obtain admission. There were no pockets to pick of coin, but as admission could be obtained by payment 'in kind,' extraordinary devices were adopted. One fellow, we are told killed a greyhound belonging to an officer of the 102nd Regiment, and, having 'dressed' it succeeded in palming it of on some gastronome as choice kangaroo, at 3d per lb. How the scoundrel must have sniggered whenever he thought of the choice dish being devoured by an epicure? I reckon he did not snigger when the circumstance was discovered and another animal, not of the kangaroo order, was called into play.

Crime increased so much that the Governor and his advisers ordered the place to be closed.

Seven years (symbolic number) prior to the above effort at establishing a theatre, some of the prison population were permitted to celebrate the King's' birthday, January 4, 1789 (George The Third being King) with a dramatic performance, “The Recruiting Officer,” by Farquhar. The admission to this, the initial performance in Sydney, being presumably gratis.

Some years ago a colonial writer dug up an ancient copy of the London 'Sporting Magazine,' in which was printed as having been received from a Botany Bay correspondent a notice of a benefit performance in the year 1799. It is published verbatim: -

“BOTANY BAY THEATRICALS.

Our readers may perhaps be amused with the following record of fashionable entertainments of the inhabitants of Botany Bay. Who knows but the drama and the stage may yet derive support from this colony? We need scarcely add that at the enchanting representation mentioned below, all the spectators were transported.

MRS. PARRY'S NIGHT

(By permission of his Excellency),

At the Theatre, Sydney, Saturday, June 1, 1799, will be presented

FORTUNE'S FOOL.

Ap Hazard (for this night only), Mrs. Parry; Sir Charles Danvers, by P. Parry; Tim Seymour, by J. White; Orville, by W. Smith; Samuel, by H. Parsons; Sir Bamber Blackletter, by P. H. Hughes; Mrs. Seymour, by Mrs. M'Cann; Miss Union, by Mrs. Radley; Lady Danvers (for this night only), Mrs. Miller.

After the play a new occasional address will be spoken by Mrs. Parry.

To which will be added

BONTON.

Sir John Trotley, by P. H. Hughes; Colonel Tivey, by W. Smith; Lord Minikin, by W. Knight; Tessamy, by H. Parsons; Davey, by J. White; Lady Minikin, by Mrs. Radley; Gymp, by Mrs. Sparkes; and Miss Titup, by Mrs. Parry.

Boxes 5s, front boxes 3s 6d, pit 2s 6d, gallery 1s. Tickets to be had of Mrs. Parry, and of W. Miller. Doors open at half-past five, begin at half-past six."

Some interesting particulars, in the shape of footnotes, are given as to the personality of the players. P. Parry, formerly a grocer in Oxford-street, London, transported for life for highway robbery (Mrs. Parry was presumably the wife of P. Party, and probably followed her husband— or was allowed to keep him company—to Botany Bay; there was a Sarah Parry, a life prisoner, in the first fleet); Mrs. M'Cann, a brothel-keeper at Marylebone, London, transported for seven years (for keeping a 'disorderly house' in Sydney Mrs. M'Cann to-day would get three months). Mrs. Sparkes came out free, but, the chronicler says, "lives with Vandercombe, who is a steady fellow." P. H. Hughes, who was also in the earlier performances, was a printer by trade, and was in all probability the man employed to print Government orders before the advent of George Howe and the 'Sydney Gazette.' Here we have Hughes a printer, beyond all doubt in Sydney in 1799, while George Howe did not arrive until the year 1800.

Philip Gidley King, when in London in June, 1798, wrote his namesake, Under Secretary King, asking for some stationery for Norfolk Island, to which place he had been appointed Lieutenant Governor, and in this letter he says: — "And as I can procure a small printing press for six guineas, which will be useful for the quick dispersion of necessary orders, etc., there being one at Port Jackson. I shall be much obliged by that indulgence being extended to Norfolk Island." I think there can be but little doubt that the playbill and the tickets for Mrs. Parry's benefit were printed on the printing press then in Sydney, and by the actor-printer Mr. Hughes. Anyhow, the unanimity which has existed between press and stage for over a century was commenced at this benefit of Mrs. Parry, and the regret is that we have not a copy of the playbill or the ticket for the occasion.

Of the other performers in these historic dramatic performances two names are mentioned, Francis Grosvenor, alias Foy, transported for seven years, and Pavey, an Oxford-street grocer, whose term is not given. The paragraph which states that the audience were 'transported' may be read two ways, but it stands to reason that the soldiers and free inhabitants would be present at such a dramatic performance, the absence of other amusements being apparent.

Of the ability of the performers we have no mention. That they were not performing for a living may be taken for granted, the appearances of the players being too intermittent to allow us to hope that- there was a 'ghost' walk on the orthodox treasury day. But that there was some money about in the year of the colony 1799 is apparent from the published list of charges for Mrs. Parry's benefit; 5s, 3s 6d.,2s 6d and 1s would be considered good prices to-day. The William Miller from whom tickets could be purchased was a person of some consequence in the primitive town. William Miller had a residence in the neighbourhood of the fire station in Lower George street, kept servants, and owned a sloop which traded to the Hawkesbury. The Mrs. Miller who acted the part of Lady Danvers (for the night only) was probably the early shipowner's wife. If, however, there may be some fog enveloping the first actors and the earliest printer, there is no haze about the first scenic artist. This gentleman's name was Lancashire, a youth when sent out, but who seems to have given offence to some of the 'powers' by his evidence in a celebrated trial, where one Isaac Nichols was charged with stealing tobacco— a 'put-up' case, as it would be termed to-day.

John William Lancashire tells his own story in a petition to Governor Hunter, while lying in Sydney Gaol under sentence of death for a put-up case of forgery or uttering (no doubt there were some blanky scoundrels among the 'Upper Ten ' in the early days). Lancashire said that he was a youth of honest, respectable and worthy parents; had always lived in affluence, and had never a blemish upon his character until he made the slip for which he was transported for seven years. He had been in the navy under Sir Charles Cotton, but owing to ill-health he had to retire. Then he entered the banking house of his uncle, Robert Williams, in Birchin-lane, where he was employed as cash clerk — where, he says, he had opportunities of forging for thousands of pounds, not for shillings, as he was then under the death sentence for.

Lancashire was, of course, an amateur scene painter, but be must have been clever at the business. He gives as a reason for the persecution and unjust condemnation the fact that he had applied to the soldiery of the 102nd Regiment, who comprised a company of amateur comedians, for payment for some scenery which he had painted for them. Governor Hunter believed the youth, and reprieved him. This precursor of Andrew Torning, William Pitt, Habbe, Hemming, Clint and afterwards established himself as a land agent in Sydney, for in old 'Sydney Gazettes-.' he advertises that he has land for sale on Brickfield Hill.

The correspondent of the 'Sporting Magazine," or his transcriber on this side of the globe, goes on to say that the author of the 'ceremonial address' spoken by Mrs. Parry was "the composition of that remarkable rogue of an attorney, Mr. Michael Massy Robinson, a very fluent versifier, who had a queer history of his own, alike as regards the villainy which occasioned his transportation, and later, when he threw away excellent chances in Sydney, and was re-transported to Norfolk Island, that inferno for souls doubly damned, only to re-emerge brisk as ever, and push his way to some of the most responsible and profitable posts at the disposal of the Governor."

This scribe, whether the Botany Bay correspondent of the 'Sporting Magazine' or not, is somewhat in error as to the sinfulness of Australia s first poet, leaving Barrington out — Michael Massey Robinson. This individual was an attorney in good practice, transported in 1798 for “an attack on Mr. Oldham,” “the attack” being per medium of a threatening letter, Robinson came out in the ship Barwell, in a special cabin, the same vessel which brought Judge Advocate Dore.

Robinson made friends with Dore on the passage. The latter, not much of a lawyer, if a lawyer at all, was glad to have such an accomplished man at his elbow, and on arrival, by representations made, by Dore, Governor Hunter conditionally emancipated the poetic attorney, and Dore immediately appointed him his clerk and registrar. The news of the emancipation reached EngIand and Oldham got excited over the possibility of his ancient enemy re-appearing in England and writing more threatening letters. But Governor Hunter disabused his mind on that score, and Oldham rested in peace. Robinson was afterwards sent to Norfolk Island, convicted of perjury, for seven years.

But the Norfolk Island of Robinson's time was not the Norfolk Island of John Price's time; it was a happier place than Sydney was, by all accounts. In those days if a man became obnoxious to those in high places, nothing was easier than to formulate a charge against him, have him convicted, and deported to Norfolk Island or the Coal River.

Captain Piper, one of the earliest of our sportsmen, was commandant at Norfolk Island at the time, and allowed Robinson to return to Sydney within a year or so, for which he got into trouble with the irritable Governor Bligh.

But Robinson triumphed all over his enemies. In, 1810, Governor Macquarie appointed him chief clerk in the Colonial Secretary's office, a position of some importance. Some of Mr. Robinson's poetry has come down to us, but unfortunately the "address" spoken by Mrs. Parry on her benefit night is not among it.

Very little of any interest in matters theatrical occurred in the first 30 years of the nineteenth century. We have a hazy record of some exiles meeting and reciting passages from Shakespeare, and in Macquarie's time we are told that there was a theatre in a loft on Brickfield Hill, and that the Governor attended a performance there. At Emu Plains, when a penal settlement in Sir Thomas Brisbane's time, some exiles got up an evening's entertainment, consisting of 'Rob Roy' and' Honest Thieves.'

Then in Governor Darling's time the Sydney gaol on the debtors' side was the scene of an amateur performance, 'Bombastes Furioso' being the bill of fare, the guard bed in the debtors' room being converted into a stage. The public was admitted to witness the performance.

In the year 1832 Governor Bourke granted Mr. Barnet Levy a theatre license for a saloon in connection with the Royal Hotel, George-street, not of course the present building, but on the same site. He afterwards built a theatre, which he named the Royal, this being the first attempt which succeeded. Mr. Levy is recognised as the founder of the legitimate drama in this country. Mr. Levy's licence provided that only pieces licensed by the Lord Chamberlain should be produced, so that any literary dramatic talent which may have existed in the colony was shut out.

The first performance in the saloon of the Royal Hotel took place on Boxing Day, 1832. The saloon was fitted up as a miniature theatre, 'Black-eyed Susan' and the old farce, 'Monsieur Towson,' being the programme. The theatre was loyally opened, all parties singing 'God save the King.' The little theatre filled each night of performance and money was refused on many occasions. The success was so great that Mr. Levy built the larger establishment mentioned above. The new theatre is described as having been handsomely fitted up with a neat circle of dress and private boxes, an upper tier of boxes, a gallery, and a spacious pit. The house was capable of holding £130. It was opened with the “Mutiny at the Nore,” and "The Miller and his Men." Mr. Meredith was the first manager, before succeeded, in a couple of years by Mr. Simmons. The latter appears to have been a very energetic manager, producing such heavy pieces as "Venice Preserved," “The Honeymoon,” “Pizzaro,” etc. During the Simmons reign the charges for admission were 5s, 4s, 3s and 2s. and the playing nights four a week, Tuesday and Friday being off ones.

(To be continued.)

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

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

Royal Victoria Theatre.

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

OTHELLO.

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

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

The evening entertainment concluded with the laughable farce.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(To be continued.)

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.)

In my last article I made mention of Miss Julia Harland, her father, Mr. Wallack, and her husband, Mr. William Hoskins— a splendid dramatic and musical trio. The former died on August 19,1872, while her husband was touring New Zealand with Miss Florence Colville, whom he subsequently married. Miss Julia Harland was descended from a family highly honored and respected in the dramatic world. Her father, Mr. John Henry Wallack, visited Australia, on pleasure bent, in 1862, and appeared on the occasion of Lady Don's benefit at the Theatre Royal, Melbourne, as Sir Anthony Absolute, but increasing years and defective memory prevented his reappearance. He was a very gentlemanly actor of the old school. His elder son was, in his time, the best Don Caesar de Bazan; and the younger son, J . W. Wallack, had made a name for himself on the American stage.

Miss Julia Harland made her mark in English opera many years before she came to the colonies, when she succeeded Madame Anna Hilton at the Princess' Theatre, London, as prima donna of the English Opera Company, then under J. M. Maddox, a somewhat eccentric manager, whom London 'Punch' is said to have dubbed 'King Maddox.' In that company, with Donald King, Leffler, H. Horncastle, and Allen, she became the operatic star of London. Some time after this she accepted an engagement with Thomas Rouse, known in pit and gallery as 'Bravo Rouse,' succeeding Miss Annetta Mears at the Grecian Saloon, City-road, London. During her stay at this house, under the conductorship of Mr. B. Isaacson, her splendid talents, as one critic tells us, brought the little theatre into notoriety and nightly filled the coffers, much to the gratification of the manager. One of the best operatic companies then obtainable was engaged to support Miss Harland. There was a Mr. Fraser, described as a very able tenor, who died in America; Mr. Charles Horn, a son of an eminent composer, a baritone from the English Opera House named Baldwin, Mr. Eaton O'Donnell, Mr. H. Horncastle, Mr. Patrick Corri, son of Hadyn Corri, of Dublin, and brother of Mrs. Frederick Younge, the eminent comedienne, so well known in Australia in the fifties and sixties. Then there were the sisters M. A. and Emma Crisp, a Miss Johnstone, Mr. R. Phillips, and Mr. Campbell, father-in-law of John Dunn, a comedian who flourished in Melbourne in the fifties, sixties end seventies. His correct name Was John Benjamin Donohoe, and two of his daughters, Miss Rosa Dunn, now Mrs. L. L. Lewis, and Miss Marion Dunn, now Mrs. Marcus Clark, widow of the journalist and novelist, are well known to Australian readers. Of the Dunn family I shall have something to say at another time. With the company supporting Miss Harland was the eminent comedian Fred Robson, better known as Little Robson, A goodly company truly. After severing her connection with the Grecian Theatre. Miss Harland appeared at several of the principal theatres in opera. In 1856, in company with her husband, William Hoskins, Walter Sherwin, Linley Norman, and the basso Farquharson, she left London for Australia, arriving in Melbourne in August of the same year, and announcing themselves as the English Opera Company. Miss Julia Harland made her first appearance in Melbourne on September 1, as Lucia, in "The Bride of Lammermoor," Mr. Hoskins appearing the same evening in the farce a "Fast Train — High Pressure Express," as Jack Delaware. The company was successful throughout the colonies, Miss Harland's talents, being every where appreciated. In 1859 she joined the Opera Company at the Princess' Theatre, and in conjunction with Madame Carandini, Messrs. Laglaise, Emile Coulon, Schultz, John Gregg, and others, appeared in "II Trovatore," its first production in the Australian colonies— Miss Harland in the character of the gipsy Azucena, which was universally acknowledged to be a triumphant and thoroughly artistic performance. On the retirement of Mr. Hoskins from management in Melbourne, and during his absence from the city, Mrs. Hoskins had lived in complete retirement, and for some weeks before her death suffered severely from dropsy. In private life Mrs. Hoskins was highly esteemed. Her brother-in-law, H. H. Hoskins, a solicitor, and that genial actress, Mrs. Alfred Phillips, were with her in her last moments.

Mr. William Hoskins was the son of Abraham Hoskins, gentleman, of Newton Park, Burton-upon-Trent, Staffordshire, England, and was born February 17, 1816. He was first educated at the Grammar School, Burton-upon-Trent, where his uncle. Rev. Hugh Jones was headmaster. From this school he went to Trinity College, Cambridge, being intended for one of the liberal professions, but, refusing to study for the church, was articled to a solicitor at Birmingham. His stage fever began at the early age of 10 years, after witnessing a performance of the Stanton Company, whose performances were given in a large malt house attached to Mr. Newman's Blue Stoop Hotel, Burton. The idea of being an actor never left him, and one day he threw up his articles and bolted for London, where, at the Pantheon Theatre, he paid 10s for the privilege of playing Antonio in "The Merchant of Venice." He had resolved, however, to be a leader or nothing, and paid three guineas to play Hamlet, and Slasher in "P.P., or the Man and the Tiger." He made his first professional appearance as Icilius in "Virginius" with Messrs. Macsfield and Kelly in Southampton. During this engagement his father forgave what he considered his son's folly and supplied him with money to become a lessee; but, the speculation failing, he took on engagement with Manager Smith, of the Norwich Circuit, playing alternate nights with G . V . Brooke. Hoskins was the original Cardinal Richelieu in Bulwer's play of that name, a part played by him in 1840 for 101 nights. In 1843 he opened at Covent Garden, succeeding Jas. Anderson as Charles Courtley , in "London Assurance." (Imagine the ponderous Anderson as Charles Courtley!) It was during this engagement that Mr. Hoskins discovered that his forte was comedy, not tragedy. Many other actors had ideas of tragedy when they were genuine comedians, Leston and little Robson being cases in point. Next he went to Manchester, under Mr. John Knowles, and from there was en gaged by Mr. Greenwood, partner of Mr. Samuel Phelps, of Sadlers Wells, opening at that theatre in 1846 in the two act comedy, "Naval Engagements," in which 'old Lambert' made such a hit years after in Melbourne. His first great London hit was as Lucio in ''Measure for Measure." From Sadlers Wells, in 1851-52, he joined Mr. E. T. Smith (father, of Dr. L. L. Smith, of Melbourne) as manager and principal comedian, at Drury Lane, thence to the Olympic, with Mr. William Farren in a similar capacity, He then returned to Mr. Phelps, and from Sadlers Wells he came to Australia. He held an indisputably first place in these colonies; in every principal theatre in Sydney, Melbourne, and New Zealand he has been leading comedian and manager.

In December 1884, at the age of 68 years, Mr Hoskins took his farewell of the stage at the Theatre Royal, Melbourne. The piece chosen was the old comedy, "The Heir at Law," in which the veteran actor had won laurels in the past. Mr. Hoskins was, of course, the Dr. Pangloss, LL.D., A.S.S. The play is now obsolete, but full of good materials, and every character in it requires an actor. Mr. Redwood was the Lord Duberly, a character connected in my memory with Rogers and Lambert, and it will take a very great actor to efface their memories. Titheradge was Dick Dowlas; Richard Stewart, as Zekiel; J. R. Creville, Kenrick; Herbert Fleming, as Steadfast; Mrs. Chippendale, as Lady Duberly; Jenny Watt Tanner, as Caroline Dormer; and our not-yet-forgotten favorite Myra Kemble, as Cicily. A grand cast! The old Royal was crowded, and at the conclusion of the play Mr. Hoskins, in evening costume, delivered his farewell address. It was an instructive history of the stage, and few actors were more capable of handling such a subject as was William Hoskins. At the conclusion of his address the scene opened and disclosed the stage full of people, actors, musicians, Bohemians, personal and professional friends, headed by Mr. George Coppin, who was spokesman for the crowd. Mr. Coppin, who could (and can) be serious when he pleased, was humorous and sentimental by turns. He recalled the days when he and Hoskins were boys together, "when the stage and all associated with it were so different from what it is now, and maybe so much better." At the end of Mr. Coppin's pleasant speech, he handed Mr. Hoskins a purse of 50 sovereigns, for which useful gift the recipient expressed his warm thanks. In this connection it may be mentioned that to Mr. Hoskins Sir Henry Irving is indebted for much good tuition when the now stage leader was a novice, and Irving did not forget his old tutor on the occasion of his fare well benefit. He sent a drat for £100 to swell the fund. And thus Mr. Hoskins pleasantly and regretfully bade fare well to stage life, though I think he had taken some pupils to coach up in the profession.

The career of Mr. Hoskins under the Southern Cross was a varied one, and in a monetary sense not a success. Though a great actor, there was a want of stability about the man which prevented the accumulation of money. Though a lessee and manager on several occasions in various cities, none of the gold ever clung to his finger's. He was as much a failure, as a business man, as was G. V. Brooke; few actor-managers are successful that way. While Hoskins was lessee of the Melbourne Royal, he entered into a verbal agreement with Walter Montgomery to play a season in Melbourne. Montgomery was then in Sydney, and was to sign the agreement on arrival at Melbourne. In those days Mathew Henry Taylor shared with Tom Pavey the legal business of the theatrical profession. Tom was solicitor for Hoskins, and Taylor for Montgomery. Mr. Taylor had been in partnership with John Baxter Bennett, who never did anything shady, but the partnership had been dissolved, and Taylor was on his own. On arrival at Melbourne, Montgomery wished to give a series of readings at St George's Hall, for his own benefit. To this Hoskins objected, naturally thinking that the readings would injure the subsequent theatrical season; and St. George's Hall being next door to the Theatre Royal, the Montgomery readings would attract the public and injure the ordinary business at the theatre. Hoskins declined to sanction the readings, and Montgomery consulted Taylor as to how far he was tied to Hoskins under the verbal agreement. It is a standing joke that no man should sign a verbal agreement; but to get rid of Mr. Montgomery's verbal agreement, much correspondence ensued. Montgomery (per Taylor) wrote that unless readings were to be given and take precedence of the season at the Royal, Montgomery would not complete the agreement. "And this," wrote Taylor, "is Mr. Montgomery's ultimatum." As Hoskins said, he might just as well have sent his pomatum. Hoskins would not agree to the readings, and Montgomery broke his word as to the engagement. It was, of course, a serious loss to Hoskins, as Montgomery always drew crowded houses. That, however, is only one instance of want of business tact: there were many others.

In Sydney, Mr. Hoskins came across Miss Florence Colville, then under the alleged protection of a certain sporting butcher, who is still with us. Mr. Hoskins saw the germs of dramatic talent in the lady, and induced her to adopt the stage as a profession, a better one than "that other." The gay Lothario was, like Barkis, willing, and the lady toured with Hoskins during the lifetime of Julia Harland, and he eventually married her. On her death he married a Miss Bowman, a daughter, I think, of G. V. Brooke's old friend and supporter, Dr. Bowman, of Russell-street, Melbourne. Summed up, this may be said to have been Hoskins' Australian career. He landed in 1856, and made his first appearance at the old Queen's, in Melbourne. He became manager of the Ballarat Theatre in 1858, and of the Theatre Royal, Melbourne, in 1863. He subsequently managed the Haymarket Theatre, Melbourne, and rebuilt the Theatre Royal at Christchurch. From 1884— his big benefit— until his death on September 28, 1886, he was a teacher of elocution in Melbourne.

John Benjamin Dunn (family name Donohoe, mentioned above) was an old London actor of vast experience, who had served articles, as it were, under W. C. Macready and other eminent actors. He first came into note in London, when the singer and dancer Rice, known as 'Jim Crow' Rice, came from America and took the Big Smoke by storm with his American eccentricities. "Wheel about and turn about and do just so; Wheel about and turn about, and jump Jim Crow," accompanying the song with a dance and a jump. To counteract the attraction John Dunn was put forward as the English Jim Crow, and succeeded. He came from California to Melbourne in 1855 with his family, one daughter (Rose) being on the stage. Miss Dunn became an especial favorite, and in a long season at the Princess' in the early sixties established herself in the good opinion of the Melbourne public. When George Fawcett Rowe was dramatizing Dickens, Miss Dunn's impersonations were a feature in the plays, notably Barnaby in 'Barnaby Rudge.' Miss Dunn, however, was not an enthusiast in stage matters, and when Mr. L. L. Lewis, an eminent amateur musician, and in a good commercial position, 'came along' Miss Dunn embraced the opportunity and became Mrs. Lewis, in which capacity she has enjoyed a happy life, and at one time used to come from her retirement at St. Kilda and assist at swell readings in the aristocratic suburb. The other daughter, Marion, made her first appearance in Melbourne at a time when Docy, Maggie and Nellie Stewart were budding. Miss Marion Dunn married Marcus Clark; he dying early, left the little lady with a large little family, for whom she has bravely battled and won. John Dunn, the father, may be said to have died upon the stage. After a performance, in August 1875, he fell dead on his own doorstep in Fitzroy. John, notwithstanding a certain - amount of Bohemianism, was careful of the pence, and left his widow the solid consolation of a couple of thousands of pounds sterling. There was a son, a good-looking lad, who tried the stage and failed. The talent went with the daughters. The mother was not an actress, but she was a splendid housekeeper and managed her four-in-hand team splendidly.

(To be continued.)

Charles Lamb, in an essay on some old actors, remarks that the casual sight of on old playbill which he had picked up brought back such a flood of memories that he was constrained to 'write them up.' Lamb says : 'These old remembrances makes us feel how we once used to read a play-bill, not as now, peradventure, singling out a favorite performer, and casting, a negligent eye over the rest, but spelling out every name, to the very mutes and servants of the scene.' This was written over 80 years ago, and the words are applicable to-day. There is no greater delight to an old playgoer than in turning over a sheaf of old play-bills and living in the past, and with these dead and gone actors recalling happy days that are no more.

Next, perhaps, to the delight of recalling the actors and actresses of our boyhood days is the present delight of running through old books and papers, musty with age; when in search perhaps of one object you light upon another and are equally a gainer of pleasure. One day recently, to get rid of some cobwebs which had gathered about the brain, I strolled among some of my old familiar friends, the second-hand booksellers of Sydney, and in the shop of Mr. J. Murphy, 22 Castlereagh-street, I came across what was to me an almost priceless treasure, a copy of the play-bill of the opening night of the old Queen's Theatre, Melbourne, now nearly 60 years ago. Mr. Murphy very kindly presented me with the relic, and as it brings back to earth, in memory, some of our ancient favorites, I may be excused for quoting it in extenso.

QUEEN'S THEATRE ROYAL,

QUEEN-STREET, MELBOURNE.

OPENING NIGHT.

THURSDAY EVENING, MAY 1, 1845.

The proprietor having completed his arrangements for the opening of the New Theatre Royal, Queen-street, on the above-named evening, has the honor of announcing to the patrons of the drama —the public of Melbourne and its vicinity—that he had secured all the available talent in the province, and is in communication with neighbouring colonies for the purpose of adding strength to his company.

Previous to the rising of the curtain an opening address will be delivered by Mr. Nesbitt.

ON THURSDAY EVENING, MAY 1, the performances will commence with Tobin's celebrated Comedy (in five acts),

THE HONEYMOON.

Duke Aranga ……………… Mr. Nesbitt

Balthazar ………………….. Mr. Capper

Count Montalban …………. Mr. Boyd

Rolando ………………….... Mr. Cameron

Jacques …………………….. Mr. Lee

Lampedo ………………...… Mr. Cochrane

Campillo …………………... Mr. C. Boyd

Lopez ……………………… Mr. Miller

Servant …………………….. Mr. Jacobs

Juliana ……………………... Mrs. Cameron

Zamora …………………….. Mrs. Knowles

Volanto …………………….. Mrs. Boyd

Hostess …………………….. Mrs. Avins

Villagers …………………… Messrs. Jones and Smith

In Act 4 a rustic dance incidental to the Comedy.

End of the Comedy, an Admired Song by Mrs. Knowles; a Comic Song by Mr. Miller.

To conclude with the laughable Farce of the

UNFINISHED GENTLEMEN ;

or

BELLES, BEAUX, CANTABS AND TIGERS.

Lord Totterley (an

Adonis of 60) ………………. Mr. Capper

Hon. Frisk Flammer ………... Mr. Boyd

Jem Miller (an Incipient tiger

or gentleman's gentleman)….. Mr. Miller

Charles Danvers ……………. Mr. C. Boyd

Bill Downey (an unfinished

gentleman, a polished philoso-

pher) ………………………… Mr. Lee

Bailiffs ………………………. Messrs. Cochrane and Jones

Louisa (with songs) ………..... Mrs. Knowles

Chintz ……………………..… Mrs. Cameron

Doors open at half-past 6. Performance to commence at 7 precisely.

Dress circle 5s, half-price 3s ; upper Circle 4s, half-price 2s ; pit 2s 6d, half price 1s 6d ; gallery 1s 6d, no half price.

Proprietor, Mr. Smith ; stage manager, Mr. Nesbitt; mechanist, Mr. Capper.

Vivat Regina.

* * *

Mrs. Avins was the last of the thespians who opened the "old Queen's" to "Pass over." She died in the Actors' Homes, built by Mr. George Coppin some years ago. Mrs. Avis had been a subscriber to the Dramatic and Musical Fund founded by Mr. Coppin, which gave her a claim on the Homes, of which she availed herself.

Mr. Capper died between the ages of 80 and 90 years. I had the pleasure of meeting the ancient on more than one occasion, long after he had retired from the stage. He was particularly fond of reminiscing both in the newspapers and on the platform and was as full of old lore as the hungriest antiquarian could desire. Mr. Capper wrote a book, about which more at another time.

Six weeks later, the success of Mr. John Thomas Smith's theatre having precipitated matters, Mr. George Coppin, with a company, crossed over from Launceston, under the following agreement ; —

''Theatre, Launceston,

“May 30, 1845.

“We, the undersigned, hereby agree to proceed to Melbourne by the brig Swan, and to perform there under the management of George Coppin, Esq., for a season, and to return to Launceston when required, he paying passages both ways; and we also bind ourselves under a penalty of £25— to be paid to the said George Coppin— that we will not perform at the Melbourne Theatre, or any other place of amusement, unless it is under the management of the said George Coppin, or by his free will and consent.

'”Signed) Mr. and Mrs. Rogers, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Young, Mrs. and Miss Thompson, Messrs. F. B. Watson, E. A. Opie, J. Hambleton, J. Wilks, B. Rae, J. Megson, W. Howson, A. Howson, and A. M'Donald.”

Mr . Opie, or one of the same name, was a scene painter, and Mr. J. Megson was leader of the orchestra.

On arrival Mr, Coppin found that he could not come to terms with Mr. J. T. Smith, who, by the way, was also the proprietor of the St. John's Tavern, next door, and sooner then be "stuck," or allow the monopolist to dictate his own terms, Mr. Coppin engaged the large room at the Royal Hotel, in Collins-street, where afterwards stood the well-known and much-frequented, and where now stands the Union Bank of Australia, with a firm determination to oppose the theatre. John Thomas Smith appears to have taken fright at the energy of the man from Launceston, and came to terms. What these terms were, Mr. Smith announced in his playbill:-

QUEEN'S THEATRE ROYAL,

Queen-street, Melbourne.

The proprietor is happy to announce to his friends and the public generally that he has entered into an agreement with Mr. Coppin and the entire of his Corps Dramatique, to perform alternate nights with the present company for one month only. Trusting the greatest combination of talent ever witnessed in any of the colonies will receive the patronage and support it will ever be his study to deserve.

On Saturday evening, June 21, 1845, the entertainments will commence with Sir E. Lytton Bulwer's celebrated play (In five acts), entitled the

LADY OF LYONS.

Claude Melnotte ………… Mr, Charles Young

Colonel Damas ………….. Mr. Rogers

Beauseant ……………….. Mr. Thompson

Glavis …………………… Mr. Coppin

Mons. Deschappelles Mr. Watson

Pauline ………………….. Mrs. Coppin

Madame Deschappelles … Mrs. Watson

Previous to the play, and during the

evening, the band will play : — Overture, 'Italiana in Algero' (Rossini); overture, 'Fra DiaVolo' (Auber); .quadrille, 'Royal Irish' (Julien).

Wreath dance ……………. Mrs. Chas. Young

Song—

'Should He Upbraid 'Me …. Mrs. Rogers

Comic song ……………… Mrs Hambleton

Mr. and Mrs. Charles Young will dance the 'Tarantella,' in the costume of the country.

To be followed by an entirely new interlude (never acted here), called

THE FOUR SISTERS.

An entirely new comic double, Irish Jig by Mr. and Mrs. Charles Young.

The whole to conclude with the very laughable farce of the

TURNPIKE GATE.

Crack the Cobbler …………. Mr. Coppin

Joe Standfast ………………. Mr. Rogers

Nights of performances during the present month Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays.

On Monday night will be produced Howard Payne's celebrated tragedy of

BRUTUS,

By the members of the Melbourne Company.

On Tuesday evening will be produced the celebrated comedy of

THE SOLDIER'S DAUGHTER,

And a variety of entertainments by the Launceston Company.

The prices of admission and the time of opening were as on the first night of the theatre.

*************

Sixty years ago the playgoers of Melbourne got enough for their money. Those who recollect Charlie Young as a comedian will try to imagine him as Claude Melnotte, and then the Tarantella and double Irish jig! and the afterwards classic Mrs. Charles Young-Herman Vezin dancing a double Irish jig. I won der what London Haymarket audiences would have thought of it. However, it would appear as if, in the long ago, all thespians engaged for general utility and general usefulness. You won't require the fingers of one hand to count those of these double bills who new remain on earth.

After a time the amalgamation of the companies took place under the sole management of Mr. Coppin, Mr. J. T. Smith (the proprietor) taking a share of the profits for his rent. I have obtained an insight into the methods and cost of working an early-day theatre. Leading actors in 1845 received from 30s to 40s a week, and were satisfied. Ten years afterwards the same class of actor got from £7 to £12 per week. The entire working of the Queen's Theatre in 1845, with the combined companies, in expenses, was under £60 a week. What profits the manager and lessee must have divided !

What accounts we read of the same old Queen's in the golden roaring 'fifties, when red-shirted, sun-browned diggers, 'lucky diggers' lounged in the dress circle, smoked their pipes, called out to their acquaintances in other parts of the house, pelted their favorites on the stage with golden nuggets, and drank champagne at fabulous prices, ate and drank, sang and danced, as if the good times were never to end. And while the theatres crowded nightly with prices quadrupled, the St. John's Tavern adjoining did a roaring trade. John Thomas Smith, a Magistrate and a member of the City Council, raked the shekels into the till in bucketfuls. The daily and nightly saturnalia beggared description. The time and place are apropos for an incident, which occurred in the early days of the Queen's Theatre and St. John's Tavern.

In July 1846, the neighborhood of the theatre was the scene of an alarming riot, which kept Melbourne in some excitement for more than a week, and threatened at one period to end in a

general fight between Orangemen and Roman Catholics. The Orangemen decided to celebrate the anniversary of the Battle of the Boyne by a banquet in the Pastoral Hotel, which stood on the north-east corner of Queen and Little Bourke streets. The building was

decorated for the occasion, and Orange flags were displayed on polls from the windows facing Queen-street. This display aroused the passions of the R.C's., who assembled in hundreds round the Pastoral Hotel, many on both sides being armed. The Mayor, James Frederick Palmer, hurried to the spot. He ordered the door of the hotel to be opened, and entered, for the purpose of putting a stop to the riot ; but the R.C's., now finding the door opened, rushed through the hallway to the staircase, where they

were met by the Orangeman, and a regular battle ensued.

J. F. Palmer was a medical man, who, on arrival in Melbourne, found that the manufacture of gingerbeer and cordials would pay better than would the vending of Epsom salts and jalap. Palmer in after life became Speaker of the mixed Legislative Council, and President of the Legislative Council under Responsible Government. The doctor was squat, fat man, with a pair of calves that would have been the envy of Dr. Dill Macky to-day.

The crowd in front fired into the hotel, and 'Yellow-bellies' quickly responded. At this moment Father Geoghegan arrived and attempted to restrain his parishioners. As the good old padre (he was the first priest in Melbourne, and became Bishop of Adelaide); was in some danger of getting an ounce of lead, John O'Shannassy and a Mr. Hurley went over to his rescue, when Hurley got a bullet in the shoulder. Another man, drinking a glass of ale in the bar of the St. John's Tavern was badly wounded in the cheek, the shot having crashed through the bar window. The riot now was at its height; the doors, windows, and the furniture of the Pastoral Hotel were demolished ; the one party attacking the building and endeavoring to force an entrance, the other , defending every inch of ground. Fortunately some soldiers appeared upon the scene, and temporary peace was secured.

The R.C/s were induced to disperse by the promise of Dr. Palmer, and his brother magistrates that the Orange dinner should not total place. Three or four persons were badly wounded in the riots. Several of the Orange party were taken into custody and bound over to keep the peace. Mr. William Hinds, a grocer of Queen-street, was charged with firing the shot which wounded Mr. Hurley, and was committed for trial. The town was alarmed the whole of the night by skirmishes between detachments of both factions. On the following day the rival

greens and yellows assembled in different parts of the town. The whole of the hotels were closed by order of the authorities. Many of the shops were shut, and a dense fog, perhaps opportunely settled down upon the town. The police and military were called out, and having formed in Market-street, proceeded to an hotel in Flinders-street, where fifty Orangemen were assembled, but who quickly dispersed when the military and police appeared. They next proceeded to the top of Flinders-street, where afterwards stood the Stork Hotel, where some eighty Roman Catholics were assembled. After some hesitation these were persuaded to go to their several homes. The town was put under martial law for the night, and the soldiers bivouacked in Collins-street, opposite the Royal Exchange Hotel, which stood where the Bank of New South Wales stood thirty years ago. This riot gave birth to the Party Processions Act, prohibiting any party flag from being explayed under any circumstances in the colony of New South Wales, an Act more honored in the breech than in the observance.

The old Princess' Theatre, in Spring street, was built in 1854 by Mr. G. B. W. Lewis, who married Rose Edouin. It was of corrugated iron, and called Astley's Amphitheatre; and therein, with a good stud of trained horses, gave the uproarious diggers the delight of a circus. In 1857 John Black, who built the Theatre Royal in Bourke-street, bought the place, and, by adding a stage, etc., converted it into the Princess' Theatre, wherein Joseph Jefferson made

his first appearance. Of the great American actor-manager more hereafter. While George Coppin was building the Olympic — or 'iron pot'— John Black was building the Theatre Royal. That was in 1855. Mr. Black, in three years, made a huge fortune— or 'pile,' as the diggers named it— as a carrier between Melbourne and the diggings. His long line of drags and wagons were the means of supplying thousands of diggers with the necessaries of life, as much as £100 a ton being paid as freight to Bendigo, 100 miles from Melbourne. Mr. Black's great ambition was to own a theatre, and a fine building he erected. It was the first building lighted with gas in the city. The streets were then lighted with oil lamps, though a company had been formed, and was building its works on the Yarra. Mr. Black, however, built his own retorts, and made his own gas. Black thought that he could manage a theatre as well as he did his horse and bullock teams, but he found to his cost that the two enterprises took a totally different stamp of man to control. After a year of small successes and some heavy failures he leased the theatre to George Coppin, who immediately transferred G. V. Brooke and his company from the 'iron pot' to the Bourke-street establishment. The Theatre Royal was opened with 'The School for Scandal,' Mr. G. H. Rogers being the Sir Peter Teazle. The old Royal had many ups and downs from the first day that John Black opened it, and numerous owners, mortgagees, lessees and managers tried their luck in it. Few, outside the actual covenanting parties, knew who really did own the Royal. Fred. Bayne, the solicitor, had some big interest in it in the late fifties, as he claimed and got the free use of a stage box. The dress circle entrance was on a different leasehold, and at one time complications were threatened. In the late fifties Brooke and Coppin were lessees. The pair dissolving partnership, Brooke retained the Royal, Coppin taking the old Olympic and the Cremorne Gardens. Brooke at this time should have been worth £50,000. Henry Edwards and George Faucett Rowe became managers after Bob Heir had resigned. Brooke went travelling, and things got messed up generally. Then Ambrose Kyte, with a rent roll of about £10,000 a year, came in, lending the management money and getting the lease as security. He put Barry Sullivan in, and for some years the Royal was the best-conducted theatre in the Southern Hemisphere.

(To be continued.)

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

*. *. *.

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

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

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

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

*. *. *.

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

*. *. *.

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

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

*. *. *.

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

*. *. *.

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

*. *. *.

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

*. *. *.

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

*. *. *.

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

(To be continued:)

Coming back to Joseph Jefferson for a while. The American comedian sailed from San Francisco for Sydney on September 10, 1861. In those days there were no fine steamers to make the voyage a pleasure trip, but Mr. Jefferson possessed the happy knack of making himself comfortable anywhere; and though the good ship Nimrod took 64 days to do the trip between the Golden Gate and Port Jackson Heads, the comedian had a very fine time of it. His chief occupation, besides reading and sketching, was a humorous attempt, he tells us, to divert a cheerful, pleasant Roman Catholic priest Father O'Grady, from celibacy: "I told him he was altogether too good a fellow for a single man, and assured that he would never know what true happiness was until he had a wife by his side and half a dozen children by his knee. Our theological arguments on the quarter-deck were a source of great amusement to ourselves and the passengers. Father O'Grady, when he got excited, would walk up and down the deck, tossing his long arms wildly about, as if he were making signals of distress." Nothing in their theological arguments, however, disturbed the friendship of the pair. Jefferson was (and is still, I hope) too mild and gentle to disturb the peace of anyone. I verily believe that the American comedian is "pigeon-livered and lacks gall." (This is meant to be complimentary.)

******************

Mr. Jefferson gives an amusing description, in an article published some years ago in the 'Century Magazine,' of his first encounter with Australian theatrical managers. Old Sydneyites will remember the individual, whose portrait is not drawn in colors too flattering: “He was an undersized, round-shouldered little Cockney Rolamo. Where he got that remarkably Italian appellation I cannot say; but if his ancestors belonged to the 'land of song' they must have strayed into the very heart of Whitechapel just previous to the birth of their son and heir, as his dialect was strongly impregnated with the drawling twang of that locality. It was recorded of him that he was never known to put an 'h' in the right place, and his talent for reversing the 'w' and 'v' amounted almost to genius. He had originally been lamplighter in the theatre, but by his industry and intelligence he rose to be its manager, and he was in the zenith of his fame when I arrived in Australia. After my introduction by my agent to Mr. Rolamo as the coming man, who was to make his (the manager's) fortune, that worthy cast a patronising eye over me, but did not seem at all overwhelmed, taking my arrival with provoking coolness. This chilling atmosphere pervaded the office until my agent unrolled some highly inflammable printed matter, the novel character of which seemed to attract the great man's attention, and condescending to address me, he said: 'You see, Mr. Jeffries - oh, I beg pardon, Jimmison I mean— with all due respect to you, there 'as been so many blawsted Yankee comics over 'ere that we are kind o' sick on 'em. You may a hextra good lot for all I know, but lately the queerest mummers we've 'ad 'ave come from Amerikee. This printed stuff you've got looks spicy— in fact I don't know as I ever see spicier - but it don't prove nothink, does it?' " Jefferson's agent broke in with the assurance that the comedian was quite legitimate and not a mummer. “ 'Legitimate!' exclaimed the manager. 'Well, that's the worst rot of all. The legitimate would wentilate my theatre on the first night; and as for that dismal old guy, 'Amlet, I wouldn't 'ave 'im at no price.' “

Jefferson assured the big man that Hamlet was not in his list of characters, and that as far as he was concerned the reputation of Mr. Rolamo's 'theatre' would not suffer through his productions of Shakespeare's plays). “I admitted his perfect right to protect himself against fraud, and that as I was a stranger, I proposed first to show him what my material consisted of, and wound up by offering to rent his theatre and company, paying him a good bonus to relinquish the management into our hands for a month, and that if we could agree upon terms his money should be paid in advance. At this proposal the hard features of Mr. Rolamo softened into an oily sweetness that was lovely to behold. He gently put out both hands to grasp mine; his eyes fairly beamed on me with affection, and his heart seemed so touched that it quite choked his utterance. 'My dear lad' said he, 'that's the way I like to hear a cove talk, for I always believes in a cove wot believes in hisself.' ”

*********

Mr. Jefferson explains that he found the acting much better than he expected, “in fact, throughout the colonies, I was invariably impressed by this dramatic excellence.” Mr. Jefferson's explanation of this is that actors who had originally come from England to 'star,' remained to make their homes in the colonies, and settled down into the different stock companies. He, however, had no cause to complain of the support given him; on the contrary, he felt that he had his work cut out for him if he were to stand out prominently amidst such surroundings.

********

Of his first appearance in Sydney, Mr. Jefferson says: - “I found the company obliging, and, as I expected, thoroughly competent. Matters progressed favorably, the pieces for the first week were rehearsed, and all things were duly prepared for the opening. The house was quite good on that night, and the audience generous and sympathetic. They seemed to appreciate what a thorough stranger I was, and as a stranger, gave me welcome.” When the curtain fell, Jefferson was congratulated by the company and Mr. Rolamo, who, the comedian fancied, was a little annoyed that he had not made better terms with the star, as he said, " ‘I say, do you know I took you for a green 'un when I first meet you, as you had a kind of innocent look about you that took me in; but you're sharp, do you know that ?’ “

Jefferson didn't think that he was particularly sharp, but thanked the manager for the delicacy of the compliment, and hoped that he might live to deserve it. From Jefferson's own story, he does not consider himself to have been "a frost" in Sydney, though many old memories amongst us say that he was. Perhaps Mr. Jefferson does not care to admit it right off. I personally know that he was not a frost in Melbourne, where he “ran” for 164 consecutive nights at the old Princess.

****************

At the expiration of the Sydney engagement Mr. Jefferson voyaged to Melbourne — no rail then. George Faucett who afterwards added Rowe to his name, had the old Princess Theatre all to himself and a ''shocking bad hat" sort of concern it was. If I am not mistaken George Faucett got the 'old barn' on a long lease at a low rent, but he pegged away at it, and eventually won. Jefferson made the same terms with Faucett as he had with the gentleman whom he names Rolamo. He admits that his success in Melbourne was more flattering than it had been in Sydney. "The audiences were numerous and fashionable, and the articles in the daily papers referring to our plays and acting were of the highest literary character." A just tribute to the critics' acumen and literary ability of Messrs. James Smith, James Edward Neild, and William M. Akhurst, the two former being still with us.

**************

At the conclusion of his Melbourne engagement Jefferson went into the mining and provincial towns, where his success was as genuine as it had been in the metropolis. He tells an amusing story of his experiences in one of the mining townships, where the bill-poster and bell-ringer were generally one and the same individual. On the way from his hotel to the theatre Jefferson came across a knot of people, in the midst being a little fat man in a seedy suit of black, swinging and ringing a big brass bell, gesticulating violently, pausing in his swings and calling out in stentorian tones : "Oh, yes! Oh, yes! Ladies and gentlemen, now or never is your only chance to see the greatest living wonder of the age— Joseph Jefferson, the great hactor from America. His powers of producing tears and smiles at vun and the same time is so great that he caused the Hemperer of Roushia to weep on his weddin' night, and made her Gracious Majesty the Queen bust out laughin' at the funeral of Prince Albert. He is the bosom friend of the President of Amerikee, and the hidol of 'is 'Ighness the Prince of

Wales. "

*************

Jefferson said that he always had a horror of orators, but the orator on the barrel top in the mining township added horror to his previous experience. The actor rushed to the theatre and demanded of the manager, the meaning of the exhibition. The manager explained that it was the usual thing in mining towns, that G. V. Brooke and other great men had been so 'belled' and 'tolled,' and that he, the said manager, thought that Mr. Jefferson would have liked it. “Like it!” said Jeff, “If it is not stopped at once I will not act to-night.” So the little fat man was ordered to cease his harangue and come down from the barrel. But the bellringer wouldn't budge; he wasn't half through, and it would injure his business and ruin his reputation to be cut off “in the heye of the public,” and "he'd be blowed" if he'd stir until he had finished. The manager appealed to Jefferson to let him go on. “Now, mark me,” said Jeff, “If he rings that bell again or opens his mouth, I don't act.” That settled it. The little fat man stood with his arms folded, a la Napoleon, glaring defiance at the manager and his satellites; but they seized him, and a desperate struggle ensued. The tall white hat of the ''town bell" was completely smashed over his eyes, and in stamping violently in his rage the head of the barrel burst in, letting him through until only the fat head appeared at the top. They tipped the barrel over and rolled him off inside, to the great amusement of the bystanders, who had been roaring with laughter all the time.

In Tasmania Jefferson tells of a singular incident. He acted the 'Ticket of Leave Man' for the first time in Hobart Town, and there was much excitement in the city when it was announced. "At least 100 ticket of leave men were in the pit on the first night of its production. Before the curtain rose I looked through at this terrible audience; the faces in the pit were a study. Men with low foreheads and small, peering, ferret-looking eyes, some with flat noses, and square, cruel jaws and sinister expressions — leering, low and cunning — all wearing a sullen, dogged look, as though they would tear the benches from the pit and gut the theatre of its scenery if one of their kind was hold up to public scorn upon the stage. This shows the power of the drama. An author might write an article abusing them, or an artist paint a picture showing up the hideous deformity of their features — all this they could bear and even laugh at. But put one of their ilk on the stage in human form, surrounded by the sympathetic story of a play, and they would no more submit to an ill-usage of him than they would to a personal attack upon themselves.”

***********

“The first act of the play produced but little excitement. These men seemed to enjoy the humorous and pathetic side of the story with great relish, but when I came upon the stage in the second act, revealing the emaciated features of a returned convict, with sunken eyes and closely shaved head, there was a painful stillness in the house. The whole pit seemed to lean forward and strain their eyes upon the scene; and as Bob Brierley revealed to his sweetheart 'the secrets of the prison house,' there were little murmurs of recognition and shakings of the head, as though they fully recognised the local allusions that they so well remembered; deep drawn sighs for the sufferings that Bob had gone through, and little smothered laughs at some of the old, well remembered inconveniences of prison life; but then, Bob was a hero, and their sympathies were caught by the nobleness of his character and innocence of crime, as though each of these villains recognised how persecuted he and Bob had been.”

*************

As the play proceeded their enthusiasm increased. Wherever Bob was hounded by a detective, or ill-treated by the old Jew, they would howl their indignation at the actors; and when he came out unscathed at the end of the play, a monument of persecuted innocence, they cheered to the echo. This performance rendered Jefferson very popular with a certain section of Hobart Town society 40 years ago, and he was often accosted in the streets by "old hands," who told him the woes and sufferings they had undergone. In fact, they looked upon him quite as an "old pal." Jefferson admits that these courtesies were very flattering, but the inconvenience of being poked in the ribs, and being told that they knew him, as much as to say, “Ohl pal, all right, we know — you've been there,” became somewhat frequent and irksome. The life that Jefferson retreated to on his retirement from the stage was that of a country gentleman, his favorite amusements being hunting, fishing, and sketching from nature.

***************

In the days when Jefferson was delighting Australian audiences with 'Bob Brierley,' when Mrs. Woolridge was the Mrs. Willoughby, when Julia Mathews was the Sam, H. R. Redwood or Lachlan M'Gowan the Melter Moss, Ned Holloway the Jim Dalton, Annie Lockhart the May, Marcus Clark had not produced his story of Van Demonian and Norfolk Island convictism— 'His Natural Life'— and the 'Ticket of Leave Man' was about the only item of the sort presented upon the stage. Yet I remember the late Mr. J. J. Welsh telling me that when a company with which he was connected, playing at Launceston, billed ''Margaret Catchpole," a lady, representing a certain family, waited upon the management, and, as a favour, asked that the play be withdrawn, and the manager obligingly complied with the request. To-day, of course, in Hobart the play-going public does not get its writers wrung by the performances of the 'Ticket of Leave Man' or 'His Natural Life,' or any personally objectionable play.

*************

Apropos “Ned” Holloway ("Jim Dalton"). This old identity goes back so far in theatrical annals that one wonders where and when he commenced. Fifty years ago he was a noteworthy actor, and with his wife travelled every inch of Australia where an actor or a company could show. As far back as 1862 Mr. “Ned” Holloway (no relative of the other Holloways) and his wife played in the Prince of Wales Theatre, Bathurst. Not many remember that little theatre. It stood close to the old Club House Hotel, and in it were given some excellent dramatic representations. In those days there was an excellent travelling population, which made Bathurst its head centre for a time. You had to “go round by Bathurst” to reach Hill End, Tambaroora, etc., and hotels and theatres flourished. There was another and a larger theatre round in Durham-street, which a few years ago stood as it did — stage, galleries, etc.— in the days of G. V. Brooke, though the building was used as a hay and corn store. The railway killed the glory of old Bathurst, though a brilliant effort was recently made to regild the city through the Federal Capital. As to Ned Holloway, he travelled to the Lachlan diggings, and had with him the late Shiel Barry, an Irish comedian of merit, who afterwards became famous in London and Dublin. Long before that, however, Mr. Holloway had come to the point in his profession, having performed in Victoria in the early fifties. Mr. Holloway is an ancient, but by no means played out. The old man's vitality is amazing, and that voice — well, I don't know another like it. The Holloways made money, and Ned's ambition, years ago, was a farm on the Hawkesbury (Mrs. Holloway was a native of that neighbourhood, I think), where he and his wife could settle down and end their days in peace after life's fitful fever. But the wife died, to Ned's great regret and loss, and the old man kept battling on. He formed for years one of Alfred Dampier's company, but I have lost sight of him for some time. Like the late Clarence Holt, Ned Holloway in his early days aspired to be the T. P. Cooke of the colonies, his favourite sailor character being William, in 'Black-eyed Susan.' There is a yarn in the profession that after Clarence Holt returned to Victoria in the early sixties he gave glowing accounts of his success at Drury Lane, accounts which fired the ambition of Ned Holloway, who expressed the intention of taking a trip to the "big smoke." "I would," gently insinuated Holt, ''and," he added kindly, "I'll give you a note to the management. Everything Australian goes down in London. You'll get a show! Open at Drury Lane in 'Black-eyed Susan.' It's a popular favourite. The house will be crammed. You speak outside; it's a good 'take.' Bound on the stage, the applause will be immense, and when you open your mouth you'll be so bally well hissed that you'll wish yourself back in Australia." But then Clarence Holt was not esteemed a generous man to brother professionals.

(To be continued.)

Contemporary with the arrival of Joseph Jefferson and Harry Sullivan came the opera troupe, controlled by as true a gentleman as ever set foot upon our shores,

WILLIAM SAURIN LYSTER

who arrived from San Francisco in 1861. In the troupe were Madame Lucy Escott, Miss Rosalie Durand, Miss Georgia Hodgson (Mrs. W. S. Lyster), Mr. Fred Lyster, and Mr. Henry Squires.

Before entering upon a history of the troupe's Australian career, I may be permitted to give a sketch of the enterprising gentleman who brought the singers to our shores, and who ended his days amongst us.

Mr. Lyster was born on March 21, 1828, at 116 Lower Baggot-street, Dublin, where his father, Chaworth Lyster, then resided. The father held a commission in the British Army, and had seen service during the Irish Rebellion in 1798. After his marriage he retired from the army, and became the agent of some extensive estates in Ireland, one of which belonged to William Saurin, then Attorney-General, after whom the future operatic manager was named. At the age of 13 years, William Lyster, recovering from a very serious illness, was sent on a voyage round the world in a sailing ship, and in that ship be visited Sydney and Melbourne in 1842. In 1847 he went out to the Cape of Good Hope, and served as a volunteer in the Kaffir war under Sir Harry Smith. A year afterwards he crossed over to the United States, and took to the stage. He had some qualifications for the profession, but it is said that his success, on the whole, was not encouraging, and in 1855, purely from a love of adventure, he joined a filibustering expedition against the peace of Nicaragua, organised by General Walker. Mr. Lyster, with the rank of captain, fought in three or four battles, and was then commissioned to the States to enlist recruits. During his absence Walker and his companions came to an untimely end, and the expedition collapsed.

In the year 1857 Mr. Lyster appears to have directed his energies into a more agreeable channel. He got together his first operatic company, consisting of the artists named above. The company did well in the Western States, and Mr. Lyster found himself able to spread himself towards Australia. On arrival in Melbourne he enriched his troupe by the engagement of the well-known and popular baritone, Mr. Farquharson, and Mr. J. E. Kitts. The company met with complete success, and Melbourne established itself as the headquarters of opera in Australia. The troupe kept together for six years, visiting the colonies in turn.

In New Zealand they had continuous employment for eight months.

From 1861 until 1880 Mr. Lyster was so intimately connected with opera that an account of his career will consist of little else than a chronicle of the several companies that apppeared under his auspices. No venture, however, exceeded the first in its results. From 1861 to 1868 novelty succeeded novelty until the public were made acquainted with the best operas extant. As an instance of his industry it maybe mentioned that 'Don Giovanni' was produced for the first time in Australia on September 23, 1861, and 'The Huguenots' (Farquharson as Marcel) on October 14, 1862. The latter opera ran for 22 nights. In 1860 the company was strengthened by the addition of Madame Simonsen, whose first great success came about in 'L'Africaine,' in conjunction with Armes Beaumont. The latter had joined the Lyster troupe some time previously in Sydney, but it was not — so the critics say — until he was entrusted with the part of Vasco-di-Gamma that he stepped into the front rank as a tenor singer.

After a long and successful stay in the Australian colonies, the company left for California in 1868, under Mr. W. S. Lyster's direction, sailing for San Francisco in the Alexander Duthie. In those days there was no Pacific mail service. The States projected tour proved a failure at the outset, and Mr. Lyster promptly returned to Australia, by way of New Zealand, in the barque Novelty. After the departure of Madame Escott and Mr. Squires, regular opera was absent from Melbourne for some time. Then a company which had arrived from South America appeared for a brief season, under the management of Mr. Lyster at the Haymarket Theatre, the principal singers being Vitali, Devoti, Bertolini and D'Antoni. Mr. Lyster then entered onto a sort of temporary partnership with Mr. John Smith, and went to England to engage another company. Under the joint management of Messrs. Lyster and Smith, Signora Baratti, Lucy Chambers, Signor Neri, and Signor Dondi appeared in Melbourne in 1870 the engagement lasting 12 months. Then came opera-bouffe in February 1871 a successful experiment, as comic opera had its share of public interest. Mr. Lyster's next venture was in conjunction with Cagli and Pompei in May, 1871, when a very strong body of singers was introduced: the Coys. Signora Zenoni, Signora Cortesi, and Signori Rosnati, Coliva and Dondi. The conductor was Mazzovati, and the troupe ran through a series of works of Italian composers at the Princess' Theatre. They then went to the Opera House, then known as the Prince of Wales Theatre. Then came Agatha States and her company, with Giorza as conductor, they performing for a limited period under Mr. Lyster at the Haymarket. For over ten years opera had been heard at each theatre at Melbourne, but it never could claim a settled home. The first performances in 1861 were given at the old Royal in Bourke-street ; some successful ones were given at the old Princess'. When the 'Varieties' was burned down, the Prince of Wales Opera House was built in Bourke-street East in 1873 by a company, of which Mr. W. S. Lyster was the managing director: and on the return of the Lyster-Cagli troupe from a tour in the neighboring colonies opera was given for the first time in the new theatre. A big triumph was achieved in the production of 'Moses in Egypt,' with Susini in the leading part. After this, English, French and Italian opera were played in turn, with Alice May Emilie Melville, and Clara Thompson shining in Offenbach and Le Cocq. The Palmeri Troupe appeared in 1874, but nothing remarkable was done in serious opera until 1877, when 'Lohengrin' was produced, with Madame Antoinetta Link and Signor Paladini in the leading parts. It had a long, though not remunerative, run. Ill health, in 1878, induced Mr. Lyster to visit England, and with him went his wife and Mr. Armes Beaumont.

While in England Mr. Lyster entered into an agreement with the London Comedy Company, and returned to Melbourne in 1879, not much better, however, for his trip. On his return there

had been short seasons with Madame Hersee, Mr. Verdi, and Madame Boema, interspersed with dramatic performances.

Many years before his death Mr. Lyster established himself on a farm at Dandenong, occupying his leisure time in breeding cattle and sending away produce to market. At this pleasant homestead Mr. Lyster frequency surrounded himself with genial friends, but in the last year or so of his life his health compelled him to reside near the city. He died, at the house of his friend, Mr. William Dean, at Hawthorne, on November 27, 1880, aged 52 years. His widow— nee Georgia Hodson— surviving him over 20 years.

When the Lyster Opera Troupe returned to San Francisco, in 1868, they did not go as they came; they left behind one of their number.

ROSALIE DURAND, wife of Mr. Fred Lyster. This lady was a native of the United States, of French descent, and made her first appearance at Baltimore in 1854. On the morning of December 8, 1868, Mr. Lyster, according to the newspapers of the day, left his lodgings in Macquarie-street North to attend a rehearsal at the Prince of Wales Opera House, Castlereagh-street, leaving his wife at home, apparently in the best of health and spirits. When Mr. Lyster returned to his lodgings, he found his wife lying dead upon the bed. Medical evidence proved that she had died of heart disease. The theatre was closed that night, and on the following day Sunday— her remains were interred in the R.C. Cemetery, Devonshire-street, and at the head of the grave was placed a very modest headstone, on which was a very

meagre description :-

I.H.S.

Sacred to the Memory of

ROSALIE DURAND LYSTER,

Who departed this life

8th December, 1868.

Aged 33 years.

While in Australia, Mr. Henry Squires had an experience of the fickleness of an Australian audience. After their first performance in Melbourne the troupe journeyed to Adelaide, where they had a full measure of success. Meanwhile some excitement was created in Melbourne. Mr. Squires was an excellent tenor, every Melbourne judge of music and voice conceded that. He was popular with those who did not understand music, but who were charmed with the beauty of his voice and his general bearing. The devoted Escott, too, had won her way into the affections of the playgoers. But Melbourne people had an idea that however excellent a vocalist, Mr. Squires was an injudicious letter writer, and his friend, the recipient of the letter, more injudicious than the writer, in publishing it. In the San Francisco 'Bulletin,' 11th June, 1861, appeared extracts from two letters written by Mr. Squires to a friend at the Golden Gate. These letters were dated March 11 and April 9, 1861. The first went thus: — "My Dear Friend, — We saluted the Antipodes on the 1st instant, after the delightful voyage of 52 days. We reached the trade winds eight days after sailing, when we had weeks of charming weather. For days and days the glorious Pacific was as quiet as a duck pond. I shall not attempt to give you scenes du voyage, as your knowledge of the world will enable you to picture for yourself the various characteristics eccentricities, etc., of a caged troupe of opera singers. Captain Hart and his agreeable half contributed largely to the pleasure of the voyage. The table was A.1. — fresh meats, vegetables, and fruits in abundance. The heat was severe in the tropics, but we managed to keep be low boiling heat under the h-awning.

"I like this shore. Melbourne is a fine city, but everything and everybody is 'blwasted English.' The streets are broad and clean, some of them as wide as Pennsylvania Avenue. The public buildings, churches and residences generally are built of beautiful stone, and present an elegant appearance. I could almost imagine myself dropped down in some provincial town in England; there are the same Saturday night markets in the streets, the same gin shops, bar

maids, hawkers, etc., and the same promiscuous use of the eighth letter of the alphabet.

“There are three theatres in operation here, besides the Cremorne Gardens, singing saloons, etc. Lyster has made arrangements for the troupe to open on Easter Monday, the 25th instant. 'Lucia di Lammermoor' has been selected for the opening, when your most obedient will make his bow as the unfortunate and broken-hearted Edgardo.

"We have a chorus of 17 men and 11 women, and a capital orchestra. The theatre is larger than the American in San Francisco. It is handsomely decorated, has a full depth of stage; is harmonic, but badly lighted.

“I can foresee that my absence from San Francisco will seem interminable. I could gladly return to-day, and the sentiments you expressed on board the Golden Age, upon your return to California, I can fully appreciate."

In the second letter Mr. Squires announced the debut of the troupe. "It was a great hit. Madame Escott and myself received a cordial welcome and call after the first act, second act, grand sestette encored, and call at the close. Abundance of applause in last act, and a jolly call at the close of the opera, which was 'Lucia,' as stated in my last."

They played 'Lucia' three nights. 'Maritana' followed and was a great triumph. ''There were seven encores during the performance. So you see the Melbourneites mean to have the worth of their money. It is a good public, and the applause, if vociferous, is discriminating." Lurline followed. Miss Hodgson made her first appearance in 'Maritana,' and Rosalie Durand made her debut in 'Fra Diavolo,' which had been deferred from the first week in consequence of her illness. She had a fine reception.

Respecting an Australian favorite, Mr. Squires wrote: — "I must not omit to mention Mr. Farquharson, our new basso and baritone. He has a magnificent voice, and is withal a gentleman. Unfortunately he goes to London in July to join the troupe at Her Majesty's Theatre. We have some hopes that he may join us, on our return, in California."

These letters were published in the Melbourne newspapers while the Lysters were in South Australia. Melbourne people were boiled with indignation at being dubbed "blawsted English," and Mr. Squires was promised a warm reception on his return. 'Martha' was the opera chosen, for the re-appearance of the troupe. I was present, and I do not remember the old bouse ever being so closely packed, even on G. V. Brooke's last night, which was, up to the 'Martha' night, the record. It was said that many came around with certain missiles in the shape of vegetables, etc.; but, to the credit of that great audience, they were not used. The opening scenes were listened to with impatience, and when Squires came on as Lionel, the house rose at him. Pit, stalls, upper circle and gallery hissed, hooted and groaned, while the dress circle took the singer's side; ladies waved their handkerchiefs, and gentlemen frantically clapped their kid-gloved hands. The uproar lasted for several minutes. In moments of cessation Mr. Squires would essay to speak, the attempt only causing the uproar to break out afresh. Squires stood his ground manfully, backed up by Farquharson, who stood by his side with his right hand on the left shoulder of the other during the turmoil. When the vocal exercise had tired the audience a little, Squires was heard to say that what he had written was really intended as a compliment. This appeared to be adding insult to injury, and the uproar broke out again. Mr. Farquharson was seen to whisper something to Squires, and instead of attempting another speech, the tenor, having given the "office" to the orchestra, commenced the 'Last Rose of Summer,' Squires, in splendid voice, sang in superb style. When he had finished the packed house rose to the occasion, and rewarded the now smiling singer with round after round of applause. He had made his peace, and had gone bravely through his "baptism of fire." Henry Squires was not again troubled about his "blawsted English."

Madame Escott and Mr. Squires were married, and settled down in some charming spot in Italy on ample means, gathered during a careful career, and were able to thoroughly enjoy the evening of life. Mrs. Squires died late in 1895. I believe Mr. Squires still lives, at least I have not heard of his death Mr. Fred Lyster is still in the land of the living, in California I think; while Armes Beaument is still heard of, occasionally, in Melbourne. Of these and others of the troupe more anon.

(To be continued.)

A correspondent, with the not uncommon name of Jones, writes to say that Nesbitt M'Cron's first application for employment to Mr. Joseph Simmons was unsuccessful on 'account 'of his brogue,' and that Nesbitt never did duty as a policeman; that friends interviewed Mr. Simmons, and induced him to give the new man a "show." I am quite aware that Henniker Beaton, in his "Dramatic Stars," mentions the failure of Mr. Nesbitt in his first interview with Mr. Simmons; but I have indisputable evidence that Mr. Simmons, on hearing Nesbitt recite, engaged him on first application. That Nesbitt did police street duty for half a night is also beyond a doubt.

Mr. John Thomas Smith ("Sportsman," 15/6/'04), who (built the first theatre of any size in Melbourne, the Queen's, was a Sydney native, and therefore entitled to some notice in these annals. He was born in 1816, and educated by the historic pedagogue, Mr. Cape. He began life as a cadet or junior clerk in the Bank of Australasia on the foundation of that institution. From the bank he went to the Colonial Stores Department. This clerical work he found unsuitable, and he obtained an appointment as assistant teacher at the Aboriginal Station, then existing on the banks of the Yarra Yarra, where now are the Botanical Gardens. He voyaged to Melbourne at the end of the year 1837 in the steamer James Watt. He did not remain long at the Mission Station, on leaving which, on the advice of Captain Lonsdale, then commandant at the settlement, known as Beargrass, Mr. Smith turned his attention to commercial pursuits, and became manager for John Hodgson (afterwards well known in municipal and Political life). He soon, however, struck out for himself, and before many years had laid the foundations of business that afterwards brought him in a competence.

About the year 1845 he built the Queen's Theatre, amongst its early lessees and managers being George Coppin, Morton King and Charles Young. In 1842 Melbourne was incorporated, and Mr. Smith was elected to a seat in the Council, which I think he held until his death in 1879. Alongside the theatre, and on the corner of Queen-street and Little Bourke-street, was the St. John's Tavern, which Mr. Smith built and occupied while the theatre was in full swing. In 1853 Mr. Smith, then Mayor for the second time, gave a grand fancy dress ball in the theatre, the first of its kind in Victoria. The theatre had to be enlarged for the purpose, and to do so 40,000 English bricks at £21 per 1000 were used. During his third year as Mayor (1854-55) he gave another fancy dress ball in the old Exhibition Building, which stood on the site of the Mint. Of Mr. Smith's good qualities as a citizen it is not necessary here to speak. He gained high honours in the social and political life of his adopted colony. His sister was the mother of the three Gregorys, David, Edward and Charles, well known in cricketing circles in the sixties and seventies, and grandmother of the cricketing Gregorys of today.

To that old Queen's Theatre went Nesbitt M'Cron for a season, but his purse suffered much by his excesses whenever anything in business annoyed him, or he had been led into convivial company. From the Queen's he accepted a star engagement at Adelaide. He was bound under a peculiar arrangement. It was laid down in the bond that he was to receive £100 per week! — For four weeks. There were but twelve performances in the four weeks, and the last night of the twelve was to be for his benefit on terms. No money was to he paid him until the end of the engagement, and if he failed to make his appearance but once, the engagement was broken, and what he had earned declared forfeit. For eleven nights everything went well. The programme was frequently changed, and the house was crowded nightly. The piece selected for his benefit was "The Mountaineers," in which his Octavian was a masterly performance. After rehearsal he was invited to dine with some friends of the management, who professed great regard for the actor. He went to the dinner, drank wine, and became insensible! Word was sent to the theatre, and an actor named Thompson undertook the part. No mention of Mr. Nesbitt's "illness" was made, and no apology offered. The theatre was crammed to the roof, but Nesbitt never received one penny for his eleven nights' work, nor the proceeds of the benefit taken in his name.

Writing on this incident some years ago Mr. S. H. Banks said: "It was, of course, quite an accident that he became drunk, but the circumstances suggest something outside of accident on the part of some one, of which, it is to be hoped, the management was perfectly innocent.'" I shall have something more to say about Mr. Nesbitt later on.

While Nesbitt was absent from the Victoria Theatre, another actor of some note appeared upon the scene. This was Mr. Morton King, who had gained some experience on the English stage. He had come to New South Wales without any intention of acting, his object being to engage in trade. He started as a timber merchant, but the bad times of the early forties brought him down, and perforce he was obliged to return to the stage. He first played at the Victoria for a benefit, the play being "The Fall of Tarquin," Mr. King enacting the role of Brutus. He was then engaged by the management for a round of Shakespearean and other leading characters. In his young days he must have had a good appearance, and was recognized as an actor of merit. When I saw him, years after he had left the stage and was in political life, he had grown stout and florid. As an actor he was rather stilted, "mouthed," and "ranted" a deal, and had a somewhat harsh voice, I saw him act but once, of which more anon. The critics of his time said that he defied all the laws laid down by Hamlet in his instructions to the players. He suffered also by comparison with the recent "star," Nesbitt M'Cron. Mr. King was brought up to the silk trade, which he followed in the old country with success until he became stage struck. When about 30 years of age he came to Sydney, where he met George Coppin, and struck up a life-long friendship. After his appearance at the Victoria Theatre he went to Melbourne and Adelaide, and appeared in both cities, in a round of characters. In 1851 he opened a new theatre at Adelaide, with "The Lady of Lyons," he being the Claude Melnotte. The gold fever threw Mr. King back into business pursuits. Under his proper name, Mark Last King, he joined a Mr. Gibbon in business as auctioneers and estate agents and earned a competence which placed him in easy circumstances, until his death. In 1859 he entered Parliament as member for one of the Bourke County constituencies. The only occasion upon which I saw Mr. King upon the stage was at a performance of "The Merchant of Venice," by members of the Victorian Parliament, in aid of the Shakespeare Scholarship Fund. The performance was given in the Theatre Royal, Mr. King being the Shylock and Mr. George Coppin the Launcelot Gobbo. The other of the early lessees of the old Queen's, in Melbourne, was one well known in Sydney, and who died here, Charles Horace Frisbee Young. By a strange coincidence, one day last week, the same name cropped up in the Sydney Divorce Court. Charles Young, the name he was best known by, was born in Doncaster, in April 1819. His parents followed the dramatic profession, and with them he studied until he made his first appearance in London, the character being Little Pickle in "The Spoiled Child," and Young Norval in Holmes' tragedy of "Douglas." (In this tragedy there is a most extraordinary blunder. The author was a parson, and a man of great learning, yet he speaks of ''Mountains, inaccessible, by shepherds trod.")

Charles Young subsequently appeared as Noah Claypole, in "Oliver Twist." He left the stage for a time and spent four or five years at sea, chiefly in English coasting vessels. In 1843 he arrived, I think, at Hobart Town as second officer of a ship. Anyhow, at whichever port he landed, he met in Hobart Town his sister, the wife of Mr. G. H. Rogers, the well-known comedian. This determined him to again take to the stage and make his home in Australia. He made his first appearance at the Victoria Theatre, Hobart Town, in the character of Michael in "William Tell." He became the lessee of the Queen's Theatre, Melbourne, in 1851, being then in partnership with another old-time low comedian of great merit John P. Hydes.

Charlie Young's first wife was a Miss Thompson, daughter of a Liverpool merchant, her mother being a Miss Cooke, the daughter of James Cooke, who for 30 years was principal bass singer a the Theatre Royal, Drury-lane. Mrs. Young was niece to the late William L. Rede, and cousin to those well-known actresses, Mrs. W. West and Mrs. Waylett. Mr. and Mrs. Thompson came to Australia when the daughter was an infant, settling, I think, in Van Diemen's Land, where her mother, through a reversal of fortune, was again obliged to turn to the stage as a means of living. When but eight years of age, Mrs. Young played juvenile parts with great success. At 15 years of age she married Charles Young, at Launceston, Tasmania, and with Charlie assisted in the management of various theatres in which they had an interest. The couple went to England in 1857, Charlie obtaining an engagement as leading low comedian at the Strand Theatre, while the wife made her first appearance in England at Sadler’s Wells Theatre, under the management of Mr. Samuel Phelps, as Julia an "The Hunchback." She subsequently appeared in a long line of characters at the Haymarket. The English domestic life of the Youngs was not of the happiest. The wife seems to have been of a suspicious jealous character, and Charlie did not appear to have been as circumspect in his conduct as he should have been. The fact that husband and wife were playing at different houses, in totally different lines of business, and in the largest city in the world, "the city of magnificent distances" as far as theatres were concerned, may account for a lot of the trouble Anyhow, Mrs. Charles Young obtained a divorce, and Charlie came South once more. Mrs. Young then married an actor of parts more in her line, Hermann Vezin, from whom, if my memory serves me, she was divorced. On his return to Australia Charlie Young became the most popular low comedian in the colonies and as a burlesque actor had no compeer, which is saying a good deal, considering the dramatic talent which glutted the Australias in the sixties and seventies. We had then Harwood, Richard Stewart, Fred Young, Wigan, Bill Andrews, Harry Jackson, G. H. Rogers, J. C. Lambert, etc. Mr. Charles Young had a sister on the stage, Fanny, a very capable and pleasing actress, wife of a low comedian, who was known as George Washington Daniells. I don't know that Mr. Daniells ever blessed his godfather and godmother; but I do know that much "borak" was pocked at him over his name. He was, however, a good, steady fellow, notwithstanding his cognomen. Mr. Charles Young married secondly a lady who acted as Hebe at William Pitts Garrick's Head Hotel, Bourke street, Melbourne. My last chat with Charley Young was, in company with Sam Banks, at the Museum Hotel, which stood in William-street, Woolloomooloo, alongside the Blind Asylum workshops site (not then built), the exact site being where a large furniture warehouse now stands. The Museum Hotel was a red brick building standing in solitary glory, and a melancholy inn at any time. Charlie was then in bad health, crotchety, disappointed in life and not caring much how the curtain fell. He died there in January 1874.

In 1846-7-8 Mr. Nesbitt was again at the Victoria Theatre, Sydney, erratic occasionally, but still a great favourite with playgoers. Early in 1848, to relieve a strain, Mr. Nesbitt went to Maitland, then a quiet, a very quiet, town. East Maitland, the old Government town, I mean. I don't think West Maitland was then thought of excepting as a camping ground for teamsters. In Maitland in 1848 was an amateur dramatic club of some pretensions. A large building behind the old Fitzroy Arms had been transformed into a very handsome little theatre. Amongst the performing members of the club were Alfred Levien, father, I am told, of Mr. Harry Levien M.L.A., Solomon Cohen, Francis Sandoe John Sheppard, Sam Russell, Samuel Hawker Banks, and many other not half bad actors. The initial performance of the club was "the Rover's Bride" and "The Man With the Carpet Bag," in aid of the hospital funds. When it became known that the great star, Nesbitt, was ruralising in the town, he was waited upon and asked to assist in some of the performances. I think the club played weekly. Mr. Nesbitt made six appearances with the club, first as William Tell, then as Othello, and finally as Master Heywood in Douglas Jerrold's now-forgotten play, "The Rent Day"— the play only is forgotten, the landlord never forgets the rent day. Each of the parts named Mr. Nesbitt played twice, the leading lady being Mrs. Arabin, mentioned in connection with the opening of the Victoria Theatre ten years previously. In Mr. Nesbitt's time the club appears to have played twice a week, the performances in every sense being successful: good houses, consequently plenty of cash, the funds of the hospital benefiting largely, in addition to which the club was enabled to present Mr. Nesbitt with a purse of 50 sovereigns; not quite up to his Adelaide terms, but infinitely better, as he handled the cash.

Soon after his Maitland experience, Mr. Nesbitt, with his wife and family, left Sydney for San Francisco, then bursting upon the world's astonished gaze as a gold producing country of extraordinary wealth. In 1849 crowds of Sydney folk, known on the Pacific Slope as "Sydney Ducks," and not at all beloved, made their way to the fields, so that Nesbitt found many friends amongst the audiences, and he needed them, as events proved. He appeared at the American Theatre, Kearney-street, under the auspices, of Manager Attwater, and under his family name, M'Cron. James Stark and Mrs. Hudson Kirby (who subsequently come to Sydney as Mrs. Stark) were the leading performers. Business was very bad at the time (the end of 1848),

"Forty-nine" had not commenced to roar, but Attwater at once engaged M'Cron to alternate with Stark. The salary for three nights a week was good, and, as if going one better, in bad business it was paid nightly. Stark had been, playing to empty houses. M'Cron filled the theatre, a circumstance which annoyed Mrs. Kirby— who was engaged to be married to Stark— very much. The lady made no disguise of her feelings towards the Sydney actor, though there were others, from Sydney in the company, and left no stone unturned— as the saying is— to get Nesbitt out of the theatre. The outcome of her animosity will be detailed at another time.

(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.)

There died in Melbourne, last week, one who may be termed the mother of the Australian stage, if 90 years of life can give the lady a claim to the title. Mrs. Theodosia Stewart was the widow of Richard Stewart, comedian, who died but last year, and has been a figure in Australian theatres for over two generations. My first recollection of Mrs. Stewart was in the year 1861, if my memory is not playing me a trick, when she came from Sydney to Melbourne with her husband, Richard Stewart, and a small family of three girls and one son. But Mrs. Guerin was even then a veteran on the stage. She had appeared years before at the old Victoria Theatre in Pitt-street, and had a splendid record. Her first husband, I am informed, was a Mr. Stirling—what his occupation was I have at present no knowledge. On his death she married a Mr. Guerin, who, I think, had a seat in the orchestra. I have before me a playbill of the:
ROYAL VICTORIA THEATRE
of August 2, 1851,
'When will be produced a drama of intense interest, entitled 'Therese, or the Orphan of Geneva.' Carwin, Mr. Willis; Fountain, Mr. Griffiths ; Picard, Mr. G. H. Rogers ; Lavigne, Mr. F. Howson ; Therese, Mrs. Guerin ; Bridget, Mrs. Gibbs ; Nannette, Miss A. Hart. Flute solo with variations, Mr. Robert ...hen; ballad, ''A Lovely Youth," Madame Carandini; drum polka, Miss F. Griffiths ; ballad, 'The Keepsake,' Madame Sara Flower ; song, 'Those Odious Diggings.' Mr. John Howson. The whole to conclude with the extravaganza of "The Loves of Lord Bateman and the Fair Sophia.''
That is just 53 years, the lady then being 37. Here is another bill which may be quoted, as the entertainment took place two nights after, and Mrs. Guerin was in the cast :
ROYAL VICTORIA THEATRE.
Under the patronage of the Captain and Officers of the Oriental and Peninsular Steam Navigation Company's steamship Chusan, For the Benefit of Madame Sara Flower, On Monday Evening, August 23. The performance will commence with the Grand Operatic Drama, entitled, "The Female Mascaroni; or, The Fair Brigands." Dance, Miss F. Griffiths. Grand instrumental trio arranged from Meyerbeer’s opera of "Il Clociato" for piano, violin, and violincello. Madame Sara Flower, Mr. A. Moore, and Mr. Frank Howson. Duet : 'As it Fell Upon a Day.' Madame Sara Flower and Mrs. Guerin. To be followed by the interlude, 'Sent to the Tower.' Comic Song : 'Seven Ages,' Mr. G. H. Rogers. Favorite Song, Madame Carandini. The whole to conclude with the farce, "Out on the Loose". Boxes may be secured on application at the Royal Victoria Theatre. Tickets may be obtained of Messrs. Woolcott and Clarke, Lower George-street; and at Madame Sara Flower's residence, Riley-street, South Head-road.

There is much food for reflection in these two playbills. How often have I listened enraptured to the notes of poor Sara Flower, sweetest of singers: or hung on the notes of Carandini. No mention here of the four daughters who afterwards grew in beauty, and became as famous as their mother; and G. H. Rogers, of whom I wrote quite recently in a comic song, 'The Seven Ages.' I heard him in it once. Sara Flower rested in the old Devonshire-strict Cemetery, near Rosalie Durand, and both have been removed to La Perouse; Carindini died not long ago in England, The Howsons went to California; and now the last of a long list, Mrs. Guerin-Stewart, has gone over, at the age of 90 years.

In Melbourne, Mrs. Guerin appeared but at intervals, and then purely in drama, I never heard her sing, excepting in the chorus of witches in 'Macbeth,' while her husband was the Hecate. Lock's music was always given then with Shakespeare's tragedy. Mr. Stewart was always employed, and at a good salary, before he became one of the six who had leased the Royal ('Sportsman,' l3/7/'04). In addition, the family was growing up, and required tuition, which the mother was fully qualified to give. Docy (Theodosia) was the first to face the footlights ; Maggie next, quickly followed by Nellie and Dick, jun., the latter two being Stewarts, the two former Guerins. When Mr. Richard Stewart retired from the stage he was possessed of sufficient means to keep himself and wife comfortable in their old age, but, like Mr. H. R. Harwood, he lost all in the boom days ! At an advanced age Mr. Stewart returned to work ; his occupation being that of treasurer to one of the big theatrical firms. This position he filled until his death, a couple of years ago.

Henry R. Harwood was married thrice, his first wife was a great Melbourne favorite, Miss Mortimer. She made Harwood the actor he was. His second wife was not, I think, upon the stage. On her death he married Mrs. Collins, a widow, but better known to us as Docy Stewart, who survives him. Richard Stewart, junior, married one of the Deorwyns. Though broken in fortune in her great age, Mrs. Guerin-Stewart was lovingly looked after by Dick and the girls. In 1857, in a Sydney directory, 'Mrs. Guerin, actress,' resided at 97 Woolloomooloo-street, right opposite George Commins' Cottage of Content Hotel.

*****

The programme of Madame Sara Flower's benefit is interesting in many particulars The Chusan was the first P. and O. mail boat to enter Sydney Harbor, the first of a long line of splendid steamers. To celebrate the arrival of the steamer a grand ball was given, at which such reverend seigniors as Stuart Alexander Donaldson, James Martin, Charles Nicholson, W. C. Wentworth, and other notabilities acted as stewards. Four hundred applications for tickets had been made and were 'considered' by the stewards. How many were refused we know not, but no doubt the exclusives were exclusive, and made many hearts ache by refusals

******

Apropos Charles Dillon ('Sportsman,' 25/5/'04), a correspondent writes that the Dillons in Sydney in 1863 were a decided success, and that they elevated the drama in this city. They appeared at the old Victoria on April 4, the house then being under the management of Raphael Tolano, the initial piece being 'Louis XI,' a drama first played in Australia by G. V. Brooke, and subsequently made famous by Charles Kean, it being one of that actor's best characters. I think Kean was the original Louis XI. Supporting Dillon at the Vic. was Henry Neil Warner, a grand actor, who never did himself justice. He always reminded me of a great actor in the English provinces, who made periodical appearances in Dublin, his native city, T. C. King. Just here let me interpolate an anecdote. When G. V. Brooke was last in Dublin, he, with J. L. Toole, went to visit T. C. King in Queen's-square. "Everybody thought that King was dying, and he certainly looked as if he had not long to live. "We went into his bedroom"— I am quoting Tco'e— "and I was very much impressed with the sorrowful manner in which they erected each other, their deep, rich voices adding to the solemnity of the occasion. Poor Brooke was much moved at the close. 'Well, my dear Tom,' he said, 'Please Good, you'll soon get better.' 'God bless you, Gus, you're very kind, but we'll never meet again.' Brooke leaned over the bed, and kissed King very tenderly on the forehead, and said, 'Good-bye ' We had a cab at the door. When we got into it Brooke said, 'Poor Tom! I fear he is right. We shall never see the dear fellow again.' Brooke sailed a few days after for Australia, and was drowned at sea." T. C. King lived for many years after. He was alive in 1888, according to J. L. Toole.

* * *

Getting back to Dillon and his sup ports in 1863. Fred Younge, Charles Burford, F. C. Appleton, J. Hall, Sam Howard, Danie's (? which), J. P. West, Jas. Hasker, H. Clifford, and C. W. Barry, the latter a sterling actor of the old school of tragedians. The ladies were — Mrs. Dillon. Mrs. Charles Poole, Mrs. Fred Younge, Mrs. Charles Jones, and some others more or less noted. Charles Dillon had, I admit, a long list of characters in which he shone — 'The Gamester' (to my mind this was Charles Kean's greatest part), 'Wild Oats,' 'Ruy Blas,' 'The Willow Copse,' 'The Wife's Secret,' etc. No doubt in his prime, or when I saw him in Dublin in the early fifties, he was great in these char actors, but he had become stale when I saw him, in 1863, in Australia. An anecdote of John Dunn ('Sportsman,' 20/7/04). The Zavistowski Sisters were playing at Bendigo. The Zavs were a mother and two daughters. In the company at Bendigo was John Dunn, 'Cast-iron Jack,' as he was call ed. A local scribe expressed his dissatisfaction with the Zav trio. and especially with the mother, whom, I think, he accused of having swindled a washerwoman out of her weekly wash bill, or was it Madame who accused the newspaper man of having bilked the laundress? Anyhow, Madame provided herself with a greenhide whip, and, waylaying the ink slinger, laid it lustily about his shoulders. A police court case resulted, Madame being summoned for assault. The court was crowded, of course, and much amusement resulted from the trial. The bench of magistrates considered that an assault had been committed, but under great provocation, and fined the defendant Zav one shilling. Then 'Cast-iron Jack' strutted to the table, and, dumping down a handful of silver, handed melodramatically to the clerk, the required coin.

*****

In the course of this series I have had occasion to make mention of Avonia Jones, who became the wife of the lamented G. V. Brooke, in Liverpool, in 1863 ('Sportsman,' 25/5/04.). In the year 1860 the dead walls and hoardings of Melbourne were plentifully adorned with huge posters, printed by Charlwood and Son, and Shaw, Harnett and Co., announcing that Mrs. Melinda Jones and Avonia Jones, mother and daughter, had arrived, and would appear at an early date. In those times Thespians were not heralded as they are to-day— three or four months before arrival. They just dropped in, as it were, from the, clouds, and did their 'fixings' on arrival. The Jones's had arrived at a period when there was a decided lull in matters theatrical. Prior to the Ladies from the States, we had numerous tragic stars, Mr. and Mrs. James Stark, Mary Provost, G. V. Brooke, Nesbitt M'Cron, Clarence Holt, M'Kean Buchanan, a spluttering actor, , who had one good character, Sir Har- court Courtley ('London Assurance'), ; and Henry Neil Warner. While G. V. Brooke held the Australian stage as the 'greatest tragedian of the age,' no great actor in the higher walks of the drama visited these shores. When Brooke left the colonial stage clear, Barry Sullivan arrived, having as his agent Mr. J. H. Wilton, who came in a similar capacity with G. V. Brooke. Then Mr. and Mrs. Charles Kean appeared upon the scene, Engineered by Mr. George Coppin. Then we had Montgomery Howe, James Anderson, Creswick, etc., so that in 1860, when Mrs. and Miss Jones arrived, they at once filled the public eye— Mrs. Jones physically, Avonia mentally. The mother, a weighty woman, made but one appearance, when she played Romeo to her daughter's Juliet. I cannot say that she conveyed to me an agreeable idea of the love-sick young gentleman of Verona. The latter was corpulent, and displayed wealth of limb which was certainly not practical. Mrs. Jones had filled a leading position on the American stage, and the daughter, who was born in 1836, clung to her for domestic reasons, with a tenacity which was described as 'filial even to piety.' The father of Avonia Jones, the Count Joannes, was a vain eccentric, yet clever author, and actor. Why the wife separated from him and took the daughter with her need not be dealt with now ; suffice it that, in the opinion of her friends, she acted wisely. Miss Jones, it is said, inherited nothing from her father but his good looks and great ability. Her personal gifts were 'tall. well-made, with a lithe form and expressive  features and voice. She seemed born to become a tragedy queen. A classic head, wreathed with hair as dark as a raven's wing, and a complexion that was clear, though colorless, surmounted a figure that regularly responded in every phase of emotion she was called upon to Portray. Such was the enthusiastic eulogy passed upon the lady by a critic of the day, a critic who still lives and occasionally criticises; I cannot enthuse as did this writer, as I have a distinct recollection of certain Americanisms and a touch of nasal twang. Had she lived and studied, Miss Jones would have made a great actress. Her Medea was perhaps her best piece of acting; but later on when playing with Brooke, she made a great Lady Macbeth. Another great hit was in 'As You Like It.' and as Beatrice in 'Much Ado About Nothing,' although on one occasion poor Brooke, as Benedict, was so "overcome" that the performance was sadly marred. Space does not permit of going through her list of characters, but no actress of her age — she was but 32 when she died— had played such a round of characters and played them so well.

*****

In 1861 she went to England with her mother and G. V. Brooke, and appeared at Drury Lane theatre, where she created a marked sensation. In Birmingham Brooke was arrested for debt and had to go through the Bankruptcy Court. On his release he and Miss Jones played at Manchester. At this time they had not been married, and the Manchester "Examiner" thus noticed this performance: "The great and ever interesting tragedy of Macbeth was last night given for the benefit of Miss Jones, who had evidently gained friends among our playgoers during a brief engagement. On this occasion she had procured the services of Mr. Gustavus Brooke, and as this gentleman has not appeared in Manchester for some ten or twelve years there could be no surprise at seeing the house crammed to excess in every part, stalls, boxes, pit, gallery, all equally crowded. Mr. Brooke on his appearance with Banquo on the heath, was received in the most enthusiastic manner, and shared his 'calls' with Miss Jones."

*****

As a truthful chronicler, some not very pleasant facts must be given. Mr. Brooke had a domestic quarrel with the lady whom we all recognised for years in Melbourne as his wife, and the lady left, placing herself under the protection of Mr. Henry Edwards, an old time Sydney actor, well and favorably remembered in the fifties. Mr. Edwards had succeeded Robert Heir as Brooke's manager, and by some means could not make ends meet, hence the quarrel between the two men, in which, possibly, the lady may have had a share of the blame thrust upon her. Mr. Edwards now dead, was in Sydney a few years ago with "Little Lord Fontelroy," He and Mrs. Edwards (Mrs. Brooke that was) kept for many years an hotel at Callao. When Mr. and Mrs, Brooke separated, Avonia Jones brought a good deal of scandal on herself by constantly appearing in the street and elsewhere with the tragedies. It was determined to return to England At that time there was an exodus of actresses and actors from Australia. Miss Jones took a farewell benefit, at which Brooke did not appear. She delivered an address, in which she slated her critics for entrenching upon her private life. One newspaper ungenerously stated the address was written for her by a professional address writer, and that this "beloved parent" was prompting her through the hole in the baize curtain." Mr. Brooke had announced his departure in the ship Suffolk, and as a guarantee that he was at last going, the receipt for the passage money was published in the newspapers. Mrs. and Miss Jones took their passages in the ship The Great Britain, and Brooke went in the same vessel. An army of bailiffs were waiting on Sandridge Pier, to make an arrest. Richard Younge was arrested at the suit of Robert Heir, but promptly settled the claim. (By the way, a very well-informed friend, who knew both gentlemen well, tells me that Richard and Fred Younge were not brothers, a delusion under which I have labored for 55 years.) Miss Jones was arrested at the suit of Mr. R. H. Horne ( "Orion") for £30, the price of a tragedy ordered, but which she refused to accept. Two gentlemen guaranteed to pay any claim Mr. Horne could sustain, and Miss Jones was released. Anxious inquiries were made for Mr. Brooke, but it was not until The Great Britain had sailed that it was assured that the tragedian had got away from our shores. When in Europe and America, Miss Jones kept up a constant correspondence with some Australian friends. In one letter she gave details of the career of Wilkes Booth, the assassin of Abraham Lincoln. Miss Jones knew Booth intimately. He had been her playmate in childhood, and her letter at the time of the tragedy is extremely interesting.

(To be continued.)

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

*. *. *.

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

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

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

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

*. *. *.

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

*. *. *.

It is, however, as a dramatic critic that we have to deal with the genial little doctor. In this character he had the reputation of being a hard hitter, and at times he hit so hard that he earned reprisals. One noteworthy one is in my memory at this moment. In 1858 Professor Anderson, 'The Wizard of the North,' appeared in Melbourne. None of the present generation remember this gentleman— a big, bony, braw Scot, who was born at Kincardine in 1814. Anderson's life was a series of ups and downs. In his time he played many parts. The love of the life of a strolling player early led him to the boards. During his early travels it is said that he was brought into contact with Signor Bletz, the cleverest magician of his time. New ideas entered the mind of young Anderson ; he saw, watched, and set himself to unravel the mystery of the Signor's tricks. In a short time he gave a 'magic' entertainment in Aberdeen, and met with success far beyond his expectations. Every performance of a new trick urged him on, and presently he assumed the 'nom de stage' 'The Wizard of the North,' and

commenced to make for himself a name. He made a tour of Scotland, and made

the acquaintance of M. Phillipe, who was as celebrated in France as Anderson was

in Scotland. By great study and hard work Anderson became a great magician , constructing, even at the expense of his daily meals, the best apparatus his means would allow him, and devoting his inventive genius to new tricks. We are told that vicissitudes, struggles, hardships, and continuous, labor made up this portion of the Wizard's career. After a second tour through Scotland, Anderson worked his way into the northern and midland counties of England. After a long season in Yorkshire he proceeded to Hamburg, Sweden, Norway and Denmark. After successful visits to the several towns on the Baltic, he reached St. Petersburg, and obtained the personal patronage of the Emperor Nicholas. He remained some months in the Russian capital, earning considerable sums of money. After a tour through Russia he returned to England, via Berlin and Vienna. Shortly after his return home he appeared by command at Balmoral. In 1851 he went to America, and made a tour of the entire Union from Maine to California, and from St. Lawrence to the head of the Mississippi. His profits were great, clearly indicating his success as a magician. He then returned to England, and appeared at several of the West End theatres. His big success, however, was at the Lyceum, in the Strand. Finding this house too small to accommodate the audiences that assembled, he took Covent Garden Theatre, and there appeared in a series of dramatic parts, including , 'Rob Roy,' William' in 'Black Eyed Susan,' Rolla and other characters. On March 15, 1856, the season at Covent Garden was about to close with a performance commenced an hour after noon and continued during the afternoon until midnight, when the entire entertainment was to finish up with a masquerade. While the latter was proceeding, on the morning of the 16th, the house took fire, and in a few hours was reduced to a heap of ruins. By this calamity Anderson not only lost money, but he lost his entire apparatus, the accumulation of many years. Soon after this the Royal British Bank, in which he had invested his savings, smashed. Anderson was not, however, disheartened. He looked abroad to right himself. A most liberal offer, was made him by Mr. George Coppin, which , was accepted, resulting in his visit to Australia, engineered by Mr. E. P. Hingston. He made his first appearance at the Theatre Royal, Melbourne, in June, 1858. The management erected a platform from the opposite side of the stage, in front of the dress-circle, to the prompt side, which enabled the wizard to exhibit his

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

*. *. *.

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

*. *. *.

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

*. *. *.

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

*. *. *.

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

*. *. *.

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

(To be continued:)

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.)

In a previous article ('Sportsman, 27/7/'04) I made mention of Avonia Jones' interest in Wilkes Booth, the assassin of Abraham Lincoln. As the letter, written to a friend in Melbourne, immediately after the tragedy, is extremely interesting I venture to give it. The letter is dated from Portland, State of Maine, May 1, 1865. In it Miss Jones says :— 'You have heard ere this that Abraham Lincoln is dead ; killed by one who believed that he was avenging the South ; but you do not know that the hand which struck the blow was that of one of my most intimate friends. I enclose you his portrait, and tell me if you think that such a face is that of an in famous assassin, as he is now branded. I have known John Wilkes Booth since he was four years old. He and his brother Edwin, three years his senior, were my childish playmates, and many happy hours we have spent together. John was over impetuous, enthusiastic and hot headed ; but kind-hearted, generous, and good-tempered. He was two years older than I am, and all three of us, as we grew up, retained a warm interest in each other's welfare, the success of either being a common delight. Edwin and I continued a constant correspondence, and I was mainly instrumental in bringing about his marriage with a dear friend since dead. Having no brother of my own, the Booths became such to me ; and when John and I met again, after a long absence, 10 months ago, the old fraternal relation was immediately resumed. Last winter, when I was performing in Washington, I saw a great deal of him. He played Romeo for my farewell benefit— it was his last performance on the stage, and a splendid piece of acting it was. . . He was intensely enthusiastic in the cause of the South, and told me in confidence that he had sent all his wardrobe to Nassau, and that as soon as the South met with any reverses he should go there, but would make all the money he could first, because the Confederates needed money as well as men. He had not acted for many months, but had been making a large fortune in oil speculations. One day I read him your letter, in which you alluded to Charlotte Corday. I remember now the look that passed over his face, and his wonder that such a woman had not arisen here. The last time I saw him was on the day I came from Baltimore to secure Colonel Nixon's exchange (which Miss Jones had obtained by her personal intercession with Mr. Stanton, the Secretary of War). I ran after him to tell him the good news, at which he was overjoyed. He took me to the cars, kissed me, and bade me good-bye, and I never saw him more. Mother woke me early on the 15th of April with the news that President Lincoln had been assassinated. I simply felt shocked: but when she told me that he had fallen by the hand of John Wilkes Booth, all my thoughts centred in my old playmate and his family. Edwin Booth was playing an engagement at the Boston Theatre, and my first anxiety was on his account. I felt that I must go at once and see him. Mother and sister strenuously opposed it, for they did not want me mixed up in the affair owing to the intensely excited state of public feeling ; but at such a time how could I abstain from proving the genuineness and sincerity of my friendship? I went immediately to Boston, and, oh, how grateful he was ! I found him completely crushed by the blow, for, apart from his horror at John's act, it has ruined his career, which was a most brilliant one. And he seemed greatly troubled about the effect which the news would have upon his mother, who made an idol of John. I wanted to go back to New York, and the proposition was eagerly responded to; but when I reached that city I found that Mrs. Booth had gone on to Philadelphia to her daughter there, so that she might be near when John was captured. ... On the night of the assassination John managed to escape and was not discovered for a fortnight. He had fractured his leg in springing from the private box on to the stage of Ford's Theatre at Washington, rode 30 miles on horseback before the limb was set, and then had to limp on crutches into Virginia, where his friends represented him to be a wounded Marylander on his way home. At last he was tracked near Port Royal, and surrounded in a barn. When called upon to surrender he said that he never would while life remained. He was heavily armed, and as his 'brave' pursuers were afraid to enter and seize him, they set the barn on fire. It set my heart on fire to hear how, after his companion surrendered, he stood with his back against a burning hay-mow, calmly leaning on his crutch, while the flames hissed and crackled round him, determined to sell his life dearly. The roof above gave way, and he involuntarily looked up. At that moment a valiant sergeant fired at and mortally wounded him. He lived about three hours afterwards, and his last message to his mother was, 'Tell her I died for my country.' They brought his body to Washing ton, whither Edwin went to beg for it, but his request was refused. The remains of poor John were sewn up in a blanket — they would not allow even the rough box that had been made for them to be used, and he was buried, as the official announcement says, 'where no mortal eye can ever see him.' "

While admiring Miss Jones' loyalty to the friend of her childhood, one can scarcely sympathise with her in what she calls the cowardly acts of the soldiers pursuing the murderer of the popular President, seeing that Wilkes Booth shot Lincoln in the presence of his wife, and without a moment of warning. The murder may by some be looked upon as political and patriotic, but it was cowardly, nevertheless. However, that's only my opinion.

What memories crowd around Joseph Jefferson. ('Sportsman,' August 10, '04.) It has been said that he was 'discovered' in Melbourne. He arrived in that city, via Sydney, from California, in 1861 with a flourish of trumpets, advance agents, and mammoth posters. He opened in the wooden band-box; known now as the old Princess', in 'Rip Van Winkle,' and made his mark at once. He had not been playing many nights before Spring-street was deemed almost too small for the cab and carriage traffic which invaded the locality. The theatre was crowded in every part, and the playgoer who had not seen 'Rip' and Joe Jefferson was considered as benighted. Supporting Jefferson on his first appear ance were Mr. and Mrs. Robert Heir, Mrs. Alfred Phillips, Mr. J. C. Lambert, Clarence Holt (father of Bland of the same name), Richard Stewart, Fitzgerald, a stalwart Irish-American actor of the melodramatic order, and dear old sour-surly Jimmy Milne. Rip Van Winkle was perhaps Jefferson's character, and memory lingers on the many splendid points in it. His next best character was Asa Trenchard in 'Our American Cousin,' a part of which he was the original performer. Jefferson and Southern— the latter an Englishman—were stock actors at £10 a week each at Laura Keene's theatre in New York in 1857-58, when Tom Taylor wrote 'Our American Cousin' for the manageress. Jefferson was cast for Asa Trenchard a rough Kentucky backwoodsman, a character which Jefferson completely remodelled, and Southern for Lord Dundreary. The latter character was 'so shadowy and vapid,' as one critic styled it, that Southern threw it up, rather than risk what little reputation he had acquired. As this would have entailed his dismissal from the company and a severance of pleasant companionship, 'Jefferson filled in the outlines of the character with a number of oddities of gestures, gait, and gag, so as really to give it a certain amount of prominence, and to render it highly diverting. Thus amended, Southern consented to play it, made it a success, added to it new features from time to time, and when he carries the play with him to London — John Baldwin Buckstone being the Asa Trenchard— Lord Dundreary made a tremendous hit, and the unfortunate actor amassed considerable wealth by his incessant repetition of a part which he had originally rejected."

The late Richard Stewart was the Lord Dundreary of the Melbourne Princess', and right well old Dick played it.

I have seen Jefferson in over 20 of his characters, and could never tire of him. Salem Scudder in the 'Octoroon' (which had been introduced at the Princess' by Madame Duret and Mr. J. H. Le Roy, before Jefferson's advent, George Fawcett Rowe being the Salem Scudder), Solon Shingle, Bob Acres, Dogberry, Bottom the Weaver, Cornet Ollapod, Dr. Pangloss, Newman Noggs, Mazeppa (burlesque), Caleb Plummer ('Cricket on the Hearth'), Mr. Golightly ('Lend Me Five Shillings'), Graves ('Money'), Tobias Shortcut, and some others. 'Midsummer Night's Dream' was the first Shakespearian production Mr. Jefferson attempted, and the company at the Princess', who had been well drilled by G. V. Brooke and William Hoskins in the bard of Avon's plays, were rather sceptical of the American's ability to interpret 'Sweet Will.' They tittered a little, especially the ladies, at rehearsal, but Jefferson, in a quiet way, said, "Ah ! you may laugh, ladies, but you will find that my 'Bottom' will fill the house.'' And his 'Bottom' did fill the house for many nights.

If Jefferson had not been a great actor, he would have been a great painter, as it is, pictures from his brush are much valued. Unlike most of those of whom I have written, Joseph Jefferson is still on top in rural retirement in the United States.

Apropos Barry Sullivan ("Sportsman" 10/8/04), a correspondent, with the best intentions, draws my attention to a couple of omissions in the actor's personal history. I am not so sure that we have anything to do with the private history of Thespians. If we did meddle with such in the first half of the last century I am afraid we would cause much scandal, and perhaps be not always on the side of truth. It is, however, a fact that in his very readable book of reminiscences George Vandenhoff (himself an actor of much merit, and son of the great actor, John Vandenhoff, who died in 1861) makes no mention of Barry Sullivan whatever. Whether the story be one of romance or base desertion I am not prepared to say, but gossip says that Sullivan treated the lady shamefully. Miss Vandenhoff, sister of George, was a leading actress, a very pretty woman and supported her father in all his pieces. The romantic part of the story is that Miss Vandenhoff died broken-hearted, and that the name of Barry Sullivan was tabooed in the family. The story of Miss Kyte is well known in Melbourne, but no one outside the family circle ever quite got the actual facts. Mr. Ambrose Kyte, when lessee of the Theatre Royal, was a man of ample means and of humble origin. I have heard him on a public platform, when seeking a seat in Parliament declare that on his arrival in Port Phillip in 1840, an immigrant from Tipperary, he worked for ten shillings a week and saved four shillings out of it. His first venture was that of keeping a hay and corn store in Bourke-street, opposite the Eastern (or Paddy's) Market, where he afterwards built the row of fine houses and shops known as Kyte's Buildings, , one of which, by the way, was occupied for years by Mrs. Williams' waxworks exhibition— the first of the kind, I think in the Colonies-which were afterwards known as Kreitmayer's, Mrs. Williams having married the professor, though I quite forgot what Kreitmayer did "profess." Mr. Kyte's luck was always in, until close up to his death, when the tide turned. Anyhow he was a great friend of Sullivan's, and without doubt may be considered as a factor in the actor's fortune. Just before Sullivan's departure for England a banquet was given him, at which Ambrose Kyte presided, and at which eulogistic speeches were made. While the banquet was in progress and the speeches were being made, Miss Kyte was silently packing up her trunks preparatory to making a midnight flit. Any how, she left her home, much to the consternation of her friends. Some time elapsed, when it was discovered that the lady had sailed for London, a couple of

days before Barry Sullivan was cheered off from Sandridge Railway Pier. Mr Kyte was very prompt. He despatched his wife to London by the first steamer, and intercepted the lady before any damage was done. Mr. Sullivan's friends asserted that the actor knew nothing of the young lady's escapade, but there had been whispers of an engagement to marry and-well, you know people will talk. The romantic young lady returned with her mother to the paternal roof, and if everything did not end happily as in the story books, well, everything should have ended happily.

To Mr. Ambrose Kyte Australia is mainly indebted for the Burke and Wills' Exploring Expedition, his donation of £1000 being the nucleus of the fund which assisted the expedition on its unlucky journey.

Just to correct a typographical error. When conducting the Theatre Royal Melbourne, Barry Sullivan's right-hand man was his son, Amory Sullivan. At the beginning of his reign Mr. Sullivan would be heard to inquire if anyone had seen his son Amory. Towards the close of his reign Mr. Sullivan never inquired for his "son Amory." It was Mr Amory Sullivan who was always in request and some people did say that Mr. Barry Sullivan was trying to pass off his son Amory as his younger brother! Mr. James Smith alluded to Sullivan's bad temper ("Sportsman," 10/8/'04), but some actors would rouse the temper of the Angel Gabriel. Here is an instance : In 'As You Like It,' at a provincial theatre in an English midland county, Sullivan, of course, was the melancholy Jacques. Touchstone was represented by one of those clowns who disobey Hamlet, and speak more than is set down for them. This particular clown was under the impression that he could improve on Shakespeare. In the wrestling scene, when the wrestler was thrown, he (the clown) had to say, in relation to being out of breathe, "He cannot speak, my Lord !" In order to obtain a cheap laugh this clown said, "He says he cannot speak, my Lord!" which, of course, made the unthinking laugh and the judicious grieve. When the act drop fell Sullivan went over to where the would-be wit and comedian was standing, and said, "Touchstone was a fool, but not a damned fool, as you have made him. You have obtained a laugh, sir, but you have spoilt your part '' Had Mr. William Hoskins been about a simple 'damn' would not have sufficed.

Sullivan had the misfortune on the sixtieth night of the run of Colley Cibbers' adaptation of Richard III., to receive an unlucky sword thrust in the left eye, Mr. Sinclair, the Richmond, having made a mistake in the preconcerted business of the great fight in the final act. For some time the recovery of the sight of the eye was despaired of, but after lying twenty days and nights in utter darkness, Richard was himself again, seemingly all right, at least.

In this engagement at Drury Lane Sullivan performed Macbeth and Richard III on alternate nights during the engagement, the latter with 'new historical scenery' by William Beverley, and 'historically correct costumes' designed by Alfred Maltby from researches among acknowledged authorities.

(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.)

The jealousy exhibited by Mrs. Hudson Kirby against Mr. Nesbitt was roused by several incidents; first business was awfully bad, James Stark, Mrs. Kirby's affianced husband, had been playing to empty benches, so poor, as pointed out, that salaries were paid nightly. We may guess that the treasury contained only the night's receipts when the management "walked the ghost" in that fashion. The actors, to be on the safe side, stuck to the arrangement, as any night might close the theatre. When Nesbitt appeared things altered, as if by a magician's wand; the houses were packed, the actor evoking the utmost enthusiasm, on the nights, alternately with Stark, when he appeared, and the treasury filled. Mrs. Kirby was an imperious lady who could brook no rival near her coming husband's throne. There was a Sydney actor named Hambledon in the theatre. With him Mrs. Kirby first quarrelled, and in front of the curtain one night, with alleged tears in her eyes, she complained to the audience that she had been "insulted by those damned Britishers!" Mrs. Hudson Kirby was herself a favourite with the 'Frisco audiences, and the sight of their favourite in tears drew not ears, but revolvers. Nesbitt was playing Richard III, the house, as usual, was crowded, and the audience, naturally sympathising with the lady, called loudly for Nesbitt. When he came before the curtain he was so assailed that he could not make himself heard for a while. When he did get the ear of the audience he explained that he had no quarrel with anyone in the theatre; that he had never insulted anyone, and least of all a lady. But while making on effort to explain what he thought was the cause of the complaint, he was stopped by a man in the body of the pit exclaiming with an American drawl, "Shoot the b—r"— not beggar. Instead of leaving the stage under such intimidation, as a timid actor would, Nesbitt stepped to the footlights, and opening the breast of "Richard's" shirt, said firmly and defiantly, "Shoot, and be damned. I come from a country where men do not fear bullets." Very brave, but a dangerous experiment in front of a lot of red-shirted, well-bearded, half-drunken diggers from every clime under the sun. But Mr. Nesbitt's melodramatic attitude and fearless words changed the erstwhile antagonistic audience into friends, and the play proceeded uninterruptedly.

The incident upset the weak man. He flew to his usual consoler, brandy; just a little at first, by way of sedative, his usual remedy in cases of annoyance, and as usual, he took on overdose. During the next performance, while under the influence of liquor, something happened which put him in mind of the Hudson Kirby incident, and remembering the shoot and the "beggar" episode, he without an saving clause, condemned the audience and Americans generally to the care of his Satanic majesty and the warm regions generally. This was the signal for a general outburst of temper in the audience, and Nesbitt's friends feared for his safety. In an English or Australian theatre decayed vegetables or an occasional ancient egg would be the most unpleasant weapon used by an irritated audience, but in San Francisco in 1849, and with a deadly hatred against "Sydney ducks," the shooting irons were the argumentative measures introduced. And as the weapons were always handy to the diggers, who shot first and inquired afterwards, Nesbitt's friends wisely smuggled him from the theatre, and left the piece to be finished as best the management could. Mr. Nesbitt subsequently had an engagement at Macguire's Opera House, but details are meagre. When the Starks came to Sydney in 1853, Mr. Stark expressed his regret at the 'Frisco incident, but poor Nesbitt had by that time joined his fathers on the Golden Shore.

So many obstacles were placed in Nesbitt's way by those opposed to everything English— "blawsted English," as Henry Squires once said— particularly if that English had an Australian flavour about it, by the people of San Francisco that he became disgusted with his surroundings, and again had recourse to the bottle, lost his prestige upon the stage, and finally determined to try his luck at the "diggings." At the goldfields he found (what he ought to have known) that his strength was not equal to pick and shovel work, and he returned to 'Frisco. At this time he suffered terribly from rheumatic gout, and to relieve the pain, had recourse to morphine, and could take a grain and a half, said to be enough for five men, without any ill effects to himself.

During Nesbitt 's stay in California the place was infested with lawless characters from all quarters of the globe. Many of these outlaws were from Sydney— "old hands," the dregs of the convict system. On his return to 'Frisco, Nesbitt encountered a gang, who promptly proceeded to strip him, search his clothing, and generally "stick him up." Enfeebled as he was, resistance was out of the question. But while the process of searching was going on, Nesbitt recognised some Sydney faces among the gang, and saw some hope for himself. He asked them if they did not remember him? They did not, and did not care a "continental" who he was. When he announced that he was Nesbitt, of the Victoria Theatre Sydney, they were incredulous. If he were Nesbitt, let him give them "a bit of some play," Just to let them see. Nesbitt recited for them "Tell's Address to his Native Mountains," when one of the gang said: "You must be Nesbitt; no other man could recite that like him." The deadbeat actor's property was returned to him. He was hauled off to the "brigand's camp," and treated to the best of everything. They made him rest with them for a while, and, like Good Samaritans, sent him on his way rested. They offered him money, but Nesbitt was not without coin, though sorely hampered by illness.

In 1852 Mr. Nesbitt returned to Sydney. The voyage from the Golden Gate had so recruited his health that he was enabled to accept an engagement from Gordon Griffiths at the Victoria Theatre for a round of characters. His friends noticed that his fire had gone out, but enough was left to show what the man had been before he made the fatal trip to California, for fatal it was to his future career upon the stage. During the Victoria Theatre season new critics had come to the front, and these had not seen Nesbitt in his prime; yet they eulogised his acting, and the season was generally successful.

We next hear of Nesbitt early in 1853. Mr. Banks, then resident in Melbourne met an old acquaintance (James Holdstock, of Maitland), who informed him that Nesbitt was then lying dangerously ill at Passmore's Sydney Hotel. This hotel was in Queen-street, down near Flinders-street, and opposite "Bowden's Folly," as the old Western Market foundations were called. Bowden was an old-time city councillor, who caused a heap of money to be spent on the preliminaries of the markets. The foundations remained for years monuments of Bowden's folly. I think Mr. Passmore was an old Sydneyite, hence the name of the hotel. There is a big story hanging to this old-time Melbourne hostelry, which may be told another time. Mr. Banks—it was a Sunday morning— went to the hotel and inquired for Nesbitt. The landlord refused admission; but as Nesbitt had left his family in Sydney, and was alone in Melbourne, Banks would not take a refusal. Passmore said that Nesbitt was dying and ought to be let die in peace. All the more reason, thought Sam Banks, that he ought to be looked after. Sam expressed his determination to stay all night, or until he had seen his friend. At last Passmore gave in. On reaching the room he found Nesbitt lying as if in death, but the actor recognised his friend, and begged him to obtain for him his usual remedy, morphine. "A grain and a half of morphine will save my life," wailed the actor. Banks called at almost every chemist's shop for the morphine, but was refused by one and all; the quantity, they said, was enough to kill five men! Despairing of getting relief from his friend, Banks was returning to Passmore's to report the failure of his mission, when he met Dr. W. H. Campbell, to whom he was well known. The doctor lived in a pretty villa cottage, which he built at the corner of William-street and Bourke-street, afterwards the offices of Robert Cooper Bagot, the secretary of the Victoria Racing Club, and later still of the Volunteer Force, but on the site of which is now built Menzies' Hotel. Banks asked the doctor if he would give a dose of one grain and a half of morphine to a patient, and Campbell's reply was that he never knew but one man who could take such a dose, and that man was Francis Nesbitt McCron, the actor!

Banks explained the circumstances, the doctor gave the order for the morphine, and while Sam went for the drug the doctor made his way to the Sydney Hotel. The morphine was administered, and after seeing the patient in a peaceful sleep, Campbell and Banks left, promising to return early in the morning. Instead of finding a dying or dead man, they found Nesbitt up, shaving himself, and as bright and brilliant as if he never had a day's illness. That same Monday morning Nesbitt visited the Queen's Theatre, where he closed with the lessees and managers— Charles Young and John P. Hyde—for a season of 14 nights and a clear benefit. With a little extra care and total abstinence he played the engagement successfully, and then left to join his family in Sydney. Mr Banks followed soon after, and the pair agreed that after Banks had wound up some business which he had in hand, the pair should travel together. It was ordained otherwise; he had recovered his health and was anxious after a rest in the bosom of his family in Sydney to continue his colonial tour. The Victorian goldfields were in full swing, gold was being had for the seeking, theatres were being erected everywhere anything like a population had gathered. Though the theatres could not compare with the palaces of to-day, they satisfied the wants of the mining population, and the money was rolling in. With a steady man keeping him company, Nesbitt might yet have reaped a golden harvest; but in an unlucky moment, a freak, a whim, he, quite unknown to his family, shipped for Geelong, where he at once commenced an engagement which proved to be his last. The play for the evening, the fateful 28th of March 1853, was a favourite one with Nesbitt, Sheridan Knowles' "William Tell," which was played without a hitch up to the last act. After the curtain had fallen it was observed that there was something wrong with Mr. Nesbitt. He was seen to fall backwards, and on going to see what was the matter it was found that the actor had swooned. The sorrowful episode resembled in some measure the last appearance of the great Edmund Kean. That genius, whose brilliance had been dimmed by excesses such as Nesbitt suffered from, fell fainting on the shoulder of Charles, was carried from the stage, and never made another appearance. The actors in the Geelong theatre, knowing Mr. Nesbitt's weakness for alcoholic drinks, thought that his swoon was the result of over indulgence, that he was in fact what would be called to day "suffering recovery." What do you think the imbeciles did? The members of the theatrical profession are usually very lenient to their brethren who are weak, but on this occasion the sympathetic instinct was absent. The unfortunate actor was convoyed to the watchhouse. The peculiarities of the symptoms aroused the suspicion of the lockup-keeper, who immediately sent for medical aid. The moment the doctor saw the patient he diagnosed the case as not one of alcohol, or yet suffering a recovery, and ordered Nesbitt's immediate removal to the hospital. This was done, but as the hospital authorities were not aware of his morphine habit, or the cause of his exhaustion., their efforts to resuscitate the patient were unavailing, and Nesbitt's troubled life was ended. "Thus on March 29, 1853, at the early age of 44 years, the stage lost its bright particular star, his family an affectionate husband, and his friends the society of a genial, accomplished gentleman."' Such was the eulogy passed upon Mr. Nesbitt on his decease. The remains of the actor were interred in Geelong Cemetery. Some three years after, when another erratic genius, Gustavus Vaughan Brooke, was playing an engagement in Geelong, he visited the grave of his old friend, and, finding it unmarked, caused to be erected a monument to keep green the memory of the man whom he denominated his great predecessor in the affections of the Australian people. In honour of this thoughtful tribute of Brooke, a local poet composed some lines, which may be reproduced:

Neglected and forgotten the dead tragedian lay

Without a stone to mark the spot where he mouldered into clay,

Until a kindred spirit came, who, from green Erin's shore,

Elisha-like, the mantle of dramatic genius wore.

He gazed upon the naked sod, and then, with upturned eyes,

Bade to his countrymen and God a fitting tribute rise.

Thus generous hearts assimilate, when there's a touch within

Of universal nature, which makes the whole world kin.

In the spring of 1858 Mr. and Mrs. James Stark came to Sydney, and commenced an engagement under John Gordon Griffiths' management. Amongst the company engaged to support the transatlantic stars was a Sydney native, Thos. Willis, who is spoken of as a juvenile actor of great ability. He had been, in fact, a pupil of Mr. Nesbitt's, and profited greatly by his master's tuition. Mr. Willis had a great affection for Nesbitt. He has heard how his friend had been treated in 'Frisco, and believing that the Starks had a share in the trouble, he savagely assailed Mr. Stark on the stage in the presence of the company. It was only by the interposition of friends that Willis was prevented assaulting the American actor. For this grave offence Willis had to leave the company, and the knowledge of the circumstances reaching the public ear, the Starks suffered until the facts had become known. The American couple expressed their regret at the death of Nesbitt, and solemnly, declared their innocence of having had any hand in the Californian trouble. Young Willis did not long survive his friend. A few months after his vindication of Nesbitt on the stage at the old Vic he died, and the profession lost a promising actor. The Starks visited Melbourne, Hobart Town, and Launceston, and made "quite a pile." After a few years they returned, but found things theatrical mightily changed. G. V. Brooke had taken Australia by storm, and had such a hold on the play-going public that when the Starks appeared in tragedy and high comedy the American accent became distinctly marked, and the pair played to Luke warm audiences; in fact they utterly failed. On this occasion they further explained the Nesbitt-'Frisco business. They said that it had been published that Nesbitt had spoken disrespectfully of the Californian people, but that they (the Starks) did not believe it; that it was an unfortunate business, and that if Nesbitt had been less stubborn and wayward all would have been well. The Starks have long since passed to their rest, and like Nesbitt, "after life's fitful fever, sleep well.”

(To be Continued.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(To be continued.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I have made frequent mention in recent issues of the 'Sportsman' of Messrs. Spiers and Pond, those old-time lessees of the Cafe de Paris attached to the Theatre Royal, Melbourne, and other ventures of a like character. I enjoyed the personal friendship of Mr. Christopher Pond for some years, and have sweet memories of his 'kindly disposition and good-heartedness. he was the active man in the business, Mr. Spiers being the calculating head. The partners commenced in the 'roaring fifties' in a very small way, exceedingly small when compared with the gigantic proportions their business in England assumed in later years. In the early and mid-fifties in Melbourne there was a number of political agitators, who professed everything political, from placing the entire population upon the land, by means of driving all the squatters across the Murray, to creating fortunes for everybody by means only known to themselves, and to be disclosed only when they got into Parliament.

Amongst the most enthusiastic of those agitators was one named Mooney, who kept the National Hotel at the top of Bourke-street, on the northern side, near Spring-street. There was a music hall attached, which was much frequented by diggers— lucky and unlucky— down for a spree. Mr. Mooney had been to California in 1849, and came to Melbourne in the 'roaring days.' Though keeping a public-house, he was a great advocate for farm life and settling the people upon the land. 'A farm, a vote, and a rifle' was Mr. Mooney's motto, and when the 'roaring' began to cease in the late fifties, Mr. Mooney returned to California, which country he was always careful to say was better suited for agriculture than was Australia. This Mooney (of the National) must not be confounded by old colonists with 'Long Mooney,' a wild Irishman whom long residence in Port Phillip had not tamed.

'Long Mooney' owned and the City Arms at the corner of Lonsdale and Elizabeth streets, and held some adjoining properties, acquired before the fifties began to roar. Mr. Mooney, of the City Arms, was an ancient colonist as years then went, having arrived at the Yarra Yarra before Melbourne was out of long clothes. He got, however, into the clutches of the Colonial Bank, and that Institution held all Mooney's property at his death.

Underneath the National Hotel, when kept by Mooney of 'the farm, the vote, and the rifle,' was a large dining-room which was run by Spiers and Pond. If I remember rightly, it was named the ''Shakespeare Grill,' and had a portrait of the great dramatist as a sign. The bill of fare at the Shakespeare was simple in the extreme; oysters ad lib (if you paid for them) chop or steak with a boiled spud and a half a pint of British beer, the latter brought from Mooney's tap upstairs, and all for the (then) surprisingly low charge of one shilling. Spiers and Pond succeeded well in the cellar, and looked about to extend their usefulness. The cafe attached to the Theatre Royal was then in a most deplorable condition. I think Jimmy Ellis, of the Cremorne Gardens, had something to do with it, but the management was anything but good. Spiers and Pond got a lease of the premises, and transferred their 'grill' there. They did a good business, but it was not until E. P. Hingston ('Sportsman,' Sept. 7) suggested the 'Vestibule' and certain arrangements connected there with that the Cafe de Paris and 'parts adjacent' commenced to disclose improvements. The firm then turned their attention to creature comforts at the old Princess' in Spring-street. A more disreputable-looking structure it would be hard to find. The lessee, George Fawcett, was struggling, with an indifferent company, to make ends meet; the bars, which jutted on the pavement, were as unkempt as the lowest pub on Collingwood Flat, and few of the twitter class of people frequented them. Spiers and Pond got a lease of the bars, and with paint and putty soon put a new face on the place, naming it 'The Piazza.' As at the Vestibule, the Hebes were all attired in black, the attraction at the Piazza being three sisters named Kiley, pretty girls, well educated, of good family and highly respectable and respected. With such attendants the Piazza became an attraction, and with that attraction the fortunes of the theatre became assured. The first big rise the firm made was in 1862. In the previous year they determined to import a team of English cricketers, and for the purpose of making a selection they despatched their book-keeper, Mr. Mallam, with carte-blanche to do the needful. The Spiers and Pond envoy succeeded in getting together twelve good men under the leadership of H. H. Stephenson, the other members of the team, being Bennett, Caffyn, Griffith, Hearne, Mudie, Iddison, Charlie Lawrence, Mortlock, Sewell, E. Stephenson, and George Wells. Caffyn came again in 1864 and remained for some years, commencing a hairdressing business in Hunter-street, subsequently removing to George-street, where, in 187I, he sold out to Mr. John Campbell (Mr. Amory Sullivan's 'young assistant 'barber'). Mr. Charles Lawrence is still in Australia, enjoying a pension from the New South Wales Government Railways, and keeping his hand in by coaching School cricket in Victoria.

The Spiers and Pond XI. played their first match against Eighteen of Victoria on New Year's Day, 1862, on the Melbourne Cricket Ground. The attendance was enormous, and the speculation paid from the jump. I was given to understand that Spiers and Pond cleared something like £16,000 out of their venture. Messrs. Spiers and Pond 'went for' another speculation, but it did not come off, unfortunately for the Australian people. The firm offered Charles Dickens the sum of £10,000 clear, over and above all his travelling expenses and maintenance, for a twelve months' reading tour through the Australian colonies. The gentleman through whom the offer was made pressed upon Dickens the advantages which would accrue to his overwrought system from a perfect rest of six or eight weeks' voyage; and pointed out what a rich and unworked field for the observation and study of character Australia would present to him ; but Dickens could not be induced to accept the engagement ; and while thanking Spiers end Pond for their offer, dwelt up on the large sums he was making by his readings in England, incidentally mentioning that, by announcing one night's reading at St. George's Hall, Liverpool, he was sure of netting at least £300. Mr. Spiers, at a later date, waited upon Dickens In London and renewed the offer, but without success.

Having made 'a pile' in Melbourne, the partners, still devoted to each other, resolved to try their luck in England. Accordingly they sold-out their Melbourne interests to their late bookkeeper, Mr. W. P. Mallam, and Mr. Achilles King, who, however, cannot be said to have emulated Spiers and Pond in money making. At any rate they had not the luck or their predecessors. Spiers and Pond returned to England, where in a few years they revolutionised the system of supplying the London public with refreshments. At the Criterion Theatre and Restaurant, in Piccadilly; built by Spiers and Pond in 1878, at a cost of £80,000; at the Holborn Restaurant, near Southhampton Row; at the refreshment rooms of several railway stations, and at the International Exhibition at Paris, the names of Spiers and Pond became household. The immense strain of the business told upon the health of both partners, principally, however, upon Mr. Pond. This gentleman, whom I knew better than I did Mr. Spiers, had no special advantages of education, and no special training for the business which he had embarked in. He and his partner catered for the great encampment on the Werribee, in 1862, and from their success on that occasion, there could be little doubt but that they could successfully cater for any army. A writer —who knew him well— said of him, on his death in August, 1881, that he was 'sanguine, impulsive and imaginative, his busy mind was continually revolving enterprises on a large scale, some of which he subsequently carried out, in London, while his partner, with a cooler judgment, a more phlegmatic temperament and considerable financial , ability, supplied the necessary restraint to his ardour, and took a severely practical view of Mr. Pond's projects.' Personally, Mr. Pond was popular with all who knew him, and I can recall his tall figure as he stood at the money desk in the cafe, with a pleasant word and smile, and an impressive 'thank you,' for each guest as he departed. 1 can also recall his first and last, and only, appearance upon the stage as an actor when he appeared at the Theatre Royal in the little afterpiece written for the occasion by James Smith, and entitled, 'A Broil at the Cafe.' It was upon the night when a benefit, more as a compliment than for the coin it produced, was tendered the partners upon the eve of their departure for England. Few men, not being themselves given to literature or the fine arts, had a higher appreciation of, or a greater respect for, the manifestation of literary and artistic culture in others than Mr. Pond. 'To gather around him a group of actors and actresses, operatic performers, and men of letters, and to call forth their conversational powers, around a table which bore ample evidence of his lavish hospitality, was one of the delights of his life during the last years of his residence in Melbourne.' Some there are still left who remember some such gatherings at the old Cafe de Paris and in the snug room at the Piazza. Mr. Pond was about 62 years of age at his death.

I have before me a picture of the old Royal in Bourke-street, which is of much interest just now in connection with Spiers and Pond. On the one side— the western— is the Royal Hotel, in the centre 'the vestibule,' and on the right hand, or eastern side, the Cafe de Paris; and adjoining the latter is visible a portion of the establishment of Mr. Bennett, the wig maker, whose manager Mr. John Campbell was. The whole of the frontage of the theatre was leased to Messrs. Spiers and Pond. In the picture, against the columns of the vestibule, are the poster boards with the announcements 'G. V. Brooke and Avonia Jones' distinctly visible. Another poster board bears the announcement of a benefit to the then stage manager, Mr. Richard Younge, the piece chosen being the 'Hunchback.' On the pavement is a group of actors and actresses, and not a few idlers, attracted, no doubt, by the fact that Mr. Davis, the neighboring photographer, had his camera in position, and was about to 'take' the lot. In this group is G. V. Brooke, having on his left hand the lady who had come from England with him as his chief support, Fanny Cathcart, afterwards Mrs. Robert Heir, and subsequently Mrs. George Darrell. On his right stands Mrs. Lambert, wife of one of the best 'old men' Australia has ever seen. In the group also are Lambert, Heir, Dick, Stewart, and many others. Seated in a basket phaeton, is Christopher Pond, then, I remember, slowly recovering from the effects of a broken leg.

One of the English ventures— and a successful one— was 'The Hall by the Sea,' at Margate, under the management of E. P. Hingston, and where for some months — or was it years ? — the attraction was our old Australian friend, Farquharson. One of the best advertisements 'The Hall by the Sea' had was contributed by 'A Special Bohemian', to 'The Orchestra,' in July, 1866. It was dated from 'Margate,' at 'midnight':—

'I am here, Mr. Editor, at Margate.' I came hither on the saloon steamer the Albert Victor, as a guest of the renowned Australians, Spiers and Pond, whose delectable drinks no doubt are familiar to you. I think it was last Saturday I came, but I am not sure. But I am perfectly sure about the Albert Victor, and Spiers and Pond, and the drinks. Pond is the taller of the two, in order to distinguish him from Spiers, for as they are always to be seen together, any less obvious distinction, such as baptism, would be perfectly aimless and ridiculous. They are very jolly to look at, and are the most charming conversationalists in the world. Like the fairies in the nursery story, they only open their mouths to let fall rubies, and pearls, and diamonds for you to gather up. In fact, their speech is always ravishing, like this (murmured gently going down the after-saloon stairs), 'What'll you take to drink?' Or again, 'I think you will like this hock.' Or again, 'What do you say to a little pineapple,' and gems of that nature. On the whole, the voyage to Margate on board the Albert Victor was of the most pleasant description. I did not see much of the scenery on the way down, common politeness keeping me near Spiers and Pond in the lower saloon for the better part of the day; but I am told the look-out was particularly beautiful to those who like that sort of thing. My description, therefore, must be necessarily brief. After we left London Bridge we sailed majestically past Billingsgate. Chelsea, the Tower Hamlets; Kew, and the Eddystone Light (a fine structure, sir, hut I did not see it, being just then particularly engaged with Spiers and Pond in the lower saloon). Scarborough, Hungerford, and Rosherville Gardens; had a chat with the Man-at-the-Nore. and eventually arrived at Margate late in the afternoon.

''We in the lower saloon had known for some time that we were approaching the jetty, from the strong bouquet of Hebrews, wafted on the evening air, and it was with feelings of reluctance that we ascended the wooden stairway and made our way through the lanes of Israel towards shore. Margate, as you know, my dear editor, is a royal burgh, situated opposite Gravesend, and not far from Yarmouth, on the Isle of Thanet. It is one big lodging-house, the people live on shrimps, and wear yellow boots without heels, and machines are 9d, including towels. This is Margate, which, having seen, and having secured a humble apartment, I found it nearly time to rejoin my fast friends, Spiers and Pond at their new 'Hall-by-the-Sea' at the inaugural ceremony incidental to the opening of which we had been invited to assist. The 'Hall-by-the-Sea,' you see is meant to be— well, eh ! a hall by the sea. That is, you can eat and drink as you can only eat and drink chez Spiers and Pond; and in the evening there is a concert, and afterwards a ball and the charge is one shilling. That's a hall by the sea. The hall itself is very pretty, and large and comfortable, though tolerably bad for vocalists. I don't know much about architecture myself, else I would give a long and elaborate description of the hall, but luckily the 'Standard' reporter does, and as he is a friend of mine I make free to borrow his account. 'The hall (he writes) is a longish square, with triangular roof and level walls, divided into compartments.' There you have the whole place lucidly before you, and I need only add that the orchestra is erected about the middle, much in Covent Garden style, with passages at the sides ; that the 'salle' is hung with stuff, festooned with flowers ; that tolerably decent statues are arranged along the walls at intervals, and that the chairs are cleared away after the concert for dancing, to give you the 'tout ensemble' in a sentence. It is bounded on the north by the sea, on the east by the Marine Parade, on the south-west by the railway station, and on the south by nothing in particular.'

(To be continued.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(To be continued.)

The rejoicings over the success of the New South Wales horses in the intercolonial matches in October, 1857 at Flemington took a form agreeable to at least two of the parties concerned. Old Sydneyites who had taken up their abode in Victoria were determined that the horseman who had upheld the honor of the mother colony on a 'foreign field,' as it were, should not go unrewarded. Accordingly, some active spirits set about getting up a testimonial to Mr. John Higgerson, who had successfully steered Veno to Victory on the memorable October 3. Subscriptions were had for the asking, the result being that a very handsome gold-mounted whip was purchased for presentation to the successful jockey. The presentation was made on the stage of the Theatre Royal, at a performance given under the patronage of the Victoria Jockey Club 'and the Sydney sporting visitors.' The piece staged was an old-time melodrama, 'Fraud and its Victims,' a play we never hear of nowadays. The chief performer on the male side was an actor then new to Melbourne, Mr. W. H. Stephens, who earned for himself the nickname of 'Jockey' Stephens, through his capital performance of a jockey in some racing drama. In thosegood old racing days a 'laughable farce,' as the playbills had it, wound up the evening's performance. Between the play and the farce, Mr. Hamilton, of 'Bell's Life,' appeared on the stage, accompanied by Mr. Johnny Higgerson. Mr. Hamilton, in a neat and appropriate speech, made the presentation. The whip mountings were exquisite, and the gold band bore the inscription : —

'Presented to Mr. Johnny Higgerson,

Trainer and Rider

of G T. Rowe, Esquire's c g

Veno,

as a Memento of the Challenge Match.

October 3rd, 1857.'

Though it was Mr. Higgerson's first appearance on the boards of a theatre, his 'stage' being usually a four-wheeler, Mr. Higgerson was not amiss in his speech of thanks. The newspapers of the day did not report the speech, but I know that Mr. Higgerson said that Wellington did not feel prouder at Waterloo than he (Johnny Higgerson) did on Veno in the champion match. The owner of Veno, Mr. G. T. Rowe, who was in the dress circle, had to bow his acknowledgments of the applause which greeted him when recognised. The Sydney sportsmen and the Sydney press admitted that the Victorians took their defeat in a manly fashion, asserting that they would have better luck next time. The gold-mounted whip, the subscribers explained, was not presented as an acknowledgment of Veno's victory, but as a mark of esteem to Mr. Higgerson as a man of whom they were all proud, who did his best in the interests of his employer. Mr. W. H. Stephens, the 'other star' of the night, after a couple of years tearing the colonies, went to London, and became a most successful actor and manager, and was, I think, the first of a long list who having made a name in Australia, made fame and fortune in England.

As Tomboy, ridden by Sam Holmes, had conquered Veno, ridden by Higgerson, in one race at the meeting held immediately after the intercolonial matches, it was thought only right and proper that 'old Sam,' as he was known in after years when he kept the Horse and Jockey Inn, at Enfield on the Liverpool-road, N.S.W., should also have a presentation. This took the shape of a gold watch and chain and a purse of sovereigns. Anthony Greene was the spokesman, and Sam Holmes made a very neat speech. Tomboy was also to have 'shown' on the stage, but Mr. Greene had to apologise for the equine hero, stage fright, or something akin to it, having prevented Tomboy making his bow to the crowded audience at the Princess', for it was at that theatre that Mr. Holmes had his presentation. 'Fraud and its Victims' at the Royal had given way to 'Sardanapulus,' with Mr. G. V, Brooke in the leading part. It was announced as one of a series of performances prior to G. V. B.'s return to England. These announcements were frequently made, and an announcement of a final appearance by Mr G. V. Brooke, became a by-word as one of 'Coppins dodges.' On the night when the presentation was made to Mr Sam Holmes, the sisters Gougenheim—Joey and Adelaide— were playing in 'Court and Stage' supported by George Fawcett, who subsequently went to London and achieved success as an actor and playwright, under the name of George Fawcett Rowe, the latter being his real name.

If not actually on the night of the presentation to Mr. Holmes, it was on the night previous, that Joey, who was the more energetic of the sisters, made a bitter complaint that they, as 'stars,' had great difficulty in getting an opening in Melbourne, unless they accepted undignified terms. As Mr. George Coppin was absent from Melbourne, Mr. G. V. Brooke wrote the newspapers explaining the position. The agent of the sisters had written Mr. Coppin from Hobart Town offering their services at the Royal on certain terms, which we may suppose, from the tone of Mr. Coppin's reply, to have been, perhaps, exorbitant. Brooke gave a copy of Coppin's letter. There it was stated that the expenses were £600 a week! but that he would give the sisters £100 a week and two half-benefits, the engagement to be for a fortnight or a month. These terms, the sisters indignantly rejected, and gave themselves to the old wooden structure known as The Princess', in Spring-street. This old wooden 'Matchbox,' as it was named, had pit, stalls, and bores, and might hold £100 a night on a pinch. What terms they made with George Fawcett we know not, possibly share and share, after deducting a sum for expenses. Strange to say, the 'Old' Queen's' in Melbourne, the Princess' just mentioned, and an old theatre still standing in Durham-street, Bathurst, a relic of the roaring days of the Turon Diggings, and in which G. V. Brooke played, are the only ones, I am creditably informed, which have escaped destruction by fire.

Mr. Holmes, in acknowledging the gift of a watch and chain and a purse of sovereigns, was not to be outdone by Mr. Higgerson in similes; Mr. Holmes said that he was prouder of his position that night than Nelson at Trafalgar! Some little unpleasantness was hinted at over the race won by Tomboy. It was a sweep of 25 sovereigns with 100 sovs added. There were several starters, the principals being Van Tromp, Veno, and Mr. Purcell's Tomboy. Higgerson was on Veno, Waldock on Van Tromp, and Holmes on Tomboy, three as upright jockeys as ever threw leg over saddle. It was said that Holmes rode light, having got rid of some of his weight; and what pained the Victorians more than anything else was the fact that Messrs. Rowe and Atkinson believed it; and Sam Holmes was a Sydney man, too. Those who knew Sam Holmes will, I know, say that such a charge was simply ridiculous. The jockey weighed out and weighed in the same weight, and there was no opportunity, even if he wished it, to play hanky-panky with the weights between times. It may be mentioned that in this race Van Tromp was nowhere but in the race run half an hour afterwards he got second place.

Within the week in which the great Intercolonial Matches were run, the Victoria Jockey Club held, I think, its first meeting. This was the club of which Mr. J. M. Tarlton (U. S. Consul), Henry Phillips, George ???????, Edward Row were stewards, with Mr. W. P. Symons as secretary, and Mr. Richard Goldsbrough as honorary clerk of the course.

Just think of 'John Bull' Goldsbrough, 20 stone if an ounce, in starlet, and breeches, as clerk of the course! It was late in the season, and the horses were not in the best of condition, and the meeting was remarkable for the defeat of all the favorites.

The Intercolonial Matches seem to have given a zest to racing in Melbourne, the V.J.C. meeting on October 7, 8 and 9 being very largely patronised. Tattersall's newly founded rooms attracted a crowd, the regulations framed and the admission fee proving a barrier to a large number of noisy 'bummers,' who did no business and whose chatter, clatter and bounce had been intolerable. This 'push' had to content itself with the kerbstone when Tatt's was established. In the rooms the Sydney people were well represented, foremost amongst them being Mr. G. F. Pickering, editor and part proprietor of 'Bell's Life in Sydney.' It was noticeable that the Sydney contingent wagered only on Sydneyside horses.

The first race of the meeting was a Maiden Plate. Nine came to the post, amongst them a horse called Yankee, entered as a five-year-old, made first favorite, and backed heavily all through. This horse Yankee had done all his galloping as one of a team in Cobb and Co.'s coaches! The coaching crowd believed that they had found a wonder, but the result proved that Yankee was great at a mile, but no further. Though Joe Smith, a well-known rider of the time had the mount, he found his horse beaten at the mile. A horse with the Hibernian name Bathershins proved the winner, while Lady of the Lake, a sister of Alice Hawthorne, ran into third place.

Under the auspices of this club the Victorian Derby of 1857 was run. The entries were Mr. William Greene's Tricolor, Dr. Bathe's Vain Hope, Mr. Dawes' Union Jack, Mr. H. Phillips' Cavalier, Mr. E. Row's Melbourne, Mr. Payne's Skylark, and Mr. Davis' Marco. The added money was £150, the race being won by Tricolor, bred at Woodlands, the old home of Pomeroy Greene and his sons Rawdon and Molesworth. The winner had only been in Anthony Greene's hands for six weeks prior to the race. The Jockey Club Cup, £150 added money, brought a number of well known horses to the post, and was the cause of a special match being made between two of the runners. There were five entries: Mr. Warby's Cardinal Wiseman, Mr. A. Chirnside's Alice Hawthorne, Mr. John Sevoir's Sir Robert, Mr. B. D. Clarke's Camel, and Mr. Payne's Sinbad; welter weights, members of the Jockey Club up. Alice Hawthorne was the favorite against the field. The race was a two-miler, the winner turning up in Cardinal Wiseman, ridden by Mr. Rutland; Alice, with Mr. John Orr up, being second. That night at Tattersall's it was stated that Cardinal Wiseman's victory was only a fluke, and a match between 'The Churchman' and Alice was spoken of. On the following evening the match was made, the owners of Alice laying £1000 to £500, 2½ miles, welter weights, 12st 41b the horse, 12st 1lb the mare, to be run on the afternoon of the next day. Next afternoon the betting was 6 to 4 on Alice Hawthorne, which became firmer when it was known that Johnny Higgerson had the mount on the mare, and the 'gentleman jock,' Mr. Rutland, was to steer 'The Cardinal.' The start was a dead level one. Almost immediately the mare forged ahead, the Cardinal made an effort and passed the mare, the latter, however, got in front again, but Higgerson hauled off at the boggy ground under the hill, where the grandstand is now. Turning into the straight the pair were stride for stride, fighting for every foot; the mare was beaten by three lengths, in 3min 22sec. The horse Cardinal Wiseman surprised everyone. Mr. Warby had purchased him a few weeks before for 200 guineas, for stud purposes, but proving what horse masters call 'too playful,' he was given to one Bentley to train and make what he could out of him. It was now decided that Alice Hawthorne had seen 'her day.' In the first ten days of October, 1857, she had been tried four times, having as riders Steve Mahon, Mitchell, Johnny Higgerson and Mr. John Orr, and she failed to score a win with either up. All four riders gave the verdict 'out of form.'

The Victoria Jockey Club had a 'Great Metropolitan' as part of the programme. It was run on the second day, the added money being a modest 200 sovs. with a sweep of 15 sovs. The starters were: Veno (Higgerson up), Mr. Jenkins' Voltaire, Alice Hawthorne (with Mitchell up), Van Tromp, and five others, Veno and Alice went stride for stride from the start, when Veno went to the front, leaving Alice to fight for second place with Voltaire, who beat the mare by a head. The third day was wet, the entries being second and third rate, and the interest deadened by the absence of the 'big game.' At Tattersall's, at the settling up, everything passed off in first-class fashion. There were no complaints, because there were no defaulters. The bookmakers proper had not as yet become an institution, the betting being done between friends and by well-known sportsmen. Cash betting had not been thought of. Joe Thompson was but 20 years of age, and still in obscurity. The late Sammy Isaacs had not started 'pencilling' at Kirk's Bazaar. I think little Sammy, who 'pattered' for the fighting men at their booth at Flemington on race meetings, was the first recognised layer of the odds per book and pencil.

At the 'settling,' when the champagne had gone round, and everyone was satisfied with himself, his neighbor, and owner of Van Tromp, issued a challenge the world generally, Mr. William Frazer, to Victorian sportsmen, two challenges, in fact. The first was that he (Mr. Frazer) would find a horse in the Geelong district, which he would match against any other Victorian horse for 250 sovereigns, in six weeks' time, two miles, over the Geelong course. The second challenge was somewhat similar, the distance being 1½ mile, Mr. Frazer explained that both horses were strangers to the Flemington and Geelong racecourses. Nothing came of the challenges at the time. But while challenges were flying about Melbourne, new ground had been broken in Sydney. In 'Bell's Life in Sydney' appeared an advertisement worded after this fashion :— A gentleman from Ipswich, Moreton Bay (there was no Queensland then), will back his horse, Newbolt, against the champion of Australia or any horse in the colony (New South Wales, which included everything north of Gabo lighthouse), for nothing less than 500 to 1000 sovereigns, £250 allowed either party removing his horse to either turf. Stakes ready at the Willow Tree Inn, Pitt-street. No deposit but cash down. Match to be made in four weeks, the race run in three months from this date. October 17, 1857. An answer expected by Saturday, as the gentleman is about to leave the colony. No race within 22 days of the horse landing at either post. I don't think the Sydney sportsmen paid much heed to the gentleman from Ipswich, who had such a high opinion of his horse Newbolt.

A coincidence, surely! While I was writing about the Edouin family ('Sportsman,' 27/4/'04) and Cremorne one of the family, Mrs. G. B. W. Lewis nee Rose Edouin, was on her way to pay a professional visit to Sydney, and the lady is now in our midst.

The Mr. Warby mentioned above belonged to an old— very old— Campbelltown (New South Wales) family, which had a big interest in certain valuable Sydney properties. The old Yorkshire Stingo Hotel, at the corner of Castlereagh and Goulburn streets, was an heirloom of the family. Likewise the old Liverpool Arms, at the corner of King and Pitt streets, a house dating back to the old 'lag days' of the colony, but which, when rebuilt, had its name changed to 'Warby's.' I believe it has now passed out of the Warby family.