Garrick Club Melbourne

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.