and Mrs. Egerton Messrs. Sinclair and Cooper Madame Vestris (at the Opera) and Mrs. W. West (then Miss Cooke); these ladies were Kean and Miss O'Neil came out in 1814, and since that period Miss M. Tree and her sisters, Mrs. Wood, Macready, Farren, Harley, Reeve, Mrs. Yates, &c. &c., have been added to the list of living performers of celebrity. In addition to these veteran actors, a list of veteran dramatists might be appended; it would include the names of one or two octo, and several sexagenarians. Colman's first drama was produced upwards of fifty years since; Morton's "Columbus" in 1792; Reynold's “Dramatist" in 1789 (he having produced two tragedies previously); T. Dibdin's first farce in 1799; whilst of persons otherwise concerned in connexion with the drama a long list might be formed. Byrne the dancer, father of Oscar Byrne, and many of the gymnastic heroes who flourished half a century since, are not only living but in perfect health. Of the old school, the following names immediately recur to us :-Killigrew, Sir Wm., the patentee, died at 88; Wilks, 68; Quin, 73; Garrick, 65; Mrs. Clive, 75; Beard, at the same age; Rich, 70; Macklin, 107; Betterton, 75; Mrs. Siddons, 77; Quick, 80; Colley Cibber, 86; King (the original Lord Ogleby), 78; Cumberland, 79; Dibdin (the song writer), 74; Hull (many years known as the father of the stage), 76; Murphy (Arthur), 78; Ambrose Phillips, 78; Southern, 86; Wycherly, 80; Yates (the contemporary of Quin, Cibber, and Garrick, and whose dramatic life spread over three-quarters of a century), 97. Mystification of the Origin of Actors.-No persons for the short period of their popularity engage more attention than actors; yet of no persons are so few particulars known. Not only are their names disputed, their ages questioned, and doubts thrown on the reality of their reputed fathers' claims (in which perhaps they are not so singular), but who were their respective mothers, in one or two celebrated instances, remains, and is likely to remain, doubtful. The origin of Shuter (the great comedian) is unknown; one Chapman, an actor and dramatist, who died at an advanced age in 1757, was the only person who professed to know anything of him; Shuter himself said, "I suppose I must have had parents, but I never remember having friends.' The late Mrs. Powell's parentage could never be established. Kean, on his death-bed, denied that Mrs. Carey, his reputed mother, had any claim to that title; whilst his belief that the Duke of Norfolk was his father had grown with his growth, and remained to the last moment. When a few years since a certain wealthy commoner married a celebrated dancer, so little did he, even whilst the wedding was on the tapis, know of the lady's family, that he was actually jealous of the attention paid to her by an individual who it ultimately appeared was his intended wife's father! In the last century, when ignorance and illiberality made the mere name of actress an excuse for insult, some of the ladies of the drama received handsome douceurs to acknowledge and bring up as their own the offsprings of fashionable and noble delinquents. It was remembered by old actors, as a tradition current sixty years ago, that the motive for the murder of Mountford * was not jealousy of Mrs. Bracegirdle's attachment for him, but revenge for his having gained and betrayed the affections of a lady of exceedingly high rank in this country, and that one of the children whom Mrs. Mountford brought up as her own was in fact the fruits of the amour in question. That child was living in 1730, yet Cibber, who speaks at length of Mountford, does not allude to it. The original Spectre.-When Lewis's Castle Spectre was in rehearsal, it was found very difficult to get any person of importance to assume the character of the Ghost. Sheridan ridiculed its introduction at all. John Kemble said "If the play was not d-d, it ought to be," and, anticipating that event, would only play Percy, a third-rate part, and assigned the hero to Barrymore. Angela went a begging until Mrs. Jordan, from motives of kindness, accepted it; and Mrs. Powell, following her example, agreed to represent the Spirit. The actors consulted and debated on the subject of the omission of the Spectre in the last scene; for, said these learned Thebans, after her scene with her daughter, her appearance will be an anticlimax. Lewis persisted, consenting only to trust the execution to Mrs. Powell. By accident, her name and that of the Spirit had been omitted in the bills, and public curiosity was stimulated to ascertain who enacted the shade of Evelina. The play went heavily in all but the Ghost scenes, and in the last scene she saved the piece by her appearance. The actors kept the secret as to who represented the dweller in other realms. Sheridan afterwards evidenced his approval of Lewis's judgment, for he introduced Elvira (in her nun's dress) in the last scene of Pizarro, between the combatants, in precisely the same manner as the Spectre in Lewis's drama flits between Reginald and his brother Osmond. Sheridan said “a ghost and a dog could save any theatre;" to which Lewis replied “He believed that, and that the two next best things were a broken bridge and a baby." In Rolla's escape scene, the two effective points are snatching the child and cutting down the bridge to prevent pursuit. Kemble's Rolla.-Nothing could be more absurd than the manner in which John Kemble saved the child; he is pursued by Pizarro's soldiers, who are armed with muskets, and who fire as he flies. Rolla is reckless of his own fate if he can but preserve the infant of Cora; but Kemble, for the sake of effect, held up the child so as to present a mark it was impossible for the musketeers to miss. His successors have followed his example: so much for the conventional rules of the Thespian art. In the * Lord Mohun and one Captain Hill murdered Mountford the actor in coldblood, at his own door, in Norfolk-street, Strand, in the winter of 1692. Hill fled; Lord Mohun was tried and acquitted, but was ultimately killed in a duel by the Duke of Hamilton. Mountford's death, its circumstances, and the inexplicable nature of the alleged or presumed motives, make the whole story one of deep inte rest. He was 33 at his death. Alluding to the "Caravan Driver and his Dog," a miserable melodrama that owed its popularity to a canine performer. celebrated picture by Lawrence, Kemble's head was sketched, but Jackson, the pugilist, stood for the arms, legs, and chest. :: Braham's Age and Name.-"I remember Braham nearly half a century; he came out at the Royalty theatre the year Kean was born; he was never called or known as Abraham in my recollection; his name appeared n the bills thus, Master Braham, pupil of Mr. Leoni. A pantomime alled Hobson's Choice was presented there in 1787, in which young Braham sang; he was very little noticed, and attracted no attention for ears after: I fancy he must have been about fourteen, but if so, he was mall for his age. Mrs. Gibbs was the star there; she was then a fine Trown girl, scarcely sixteen. Mrs. C. Kemble (then Miss Decamp), Mrs. Bland (then Miss Romanzini), and Samuel Russell (the Jerry Sneak), were all mere children at this time, and were just becoming known to the public. Of all these persons, Mrs. Gibbs and Mrs. C. Kemble attracted nd retained attention most for some years, Braham certainly least."Extract of a Letter from a very old Actor. Newspaper paragraphists have made the age of the great tenor singer fertile subject for their speculations for some years last past. Delphini, n old pantomimist, with whom Braham acted in April, 1787, gave the Following particulars, which he professed to have from Leoni. Braham was orn in Rotherhithe, in 1759; his father was a Portuguese Jew, and was ld at the time of young Braham's birth: he went abroad and died there oon after. Leoni, who took Braham in 1783 or 1784, exercised over him ot only the control of a teacher, but that of a parent. After the failure of 'almer's Royalty scheme, Leoni went to Jamaica, taking Braham with im. In 1797 Leoni died there, and his pupil returned to England, and hortly afterwards assumed that station in the musical world which he has eld undisputedly ever since. With regard to the name having been altered in the play-bills from braham, which it has been asserted was really his appellation, this ppears very improbable, as it would have been likely to give offence to any patrons of the Royalty theatre, who were principally Jews; besides om the opening of that theatre to the time of its destruction, two or more erformers of that persuasion have invariably formed members of the comany. Among them were included Mrs. Bland; Isaacs, the bass singer; loman; Mrs. Wallack, senior; Delpini, and Leoni himself; Kean's reuted father and uncle; and a variety of other persons, who were engaged here because their persuasion was a favourable circumstance in the way f attracting their brethren. An old hairdresser, still residing in the Minories, tells the following necdote: that Master Braham came about forty-eight years ago to the omus of his (the hairdresser's) master to have his locks cut and curled. lis master, who knew the young vocalist's powers, offered to perform the peration aforesaid gratuitously if Master B. would favour him by singing The Soldier Tired." This was agreed upon; the hair was duly dressed, and Iaster B. taken into the back parlour, where the females of the family ere assembled to listen to the bravura. Unfortunately, Leoni had grown npatient at his pupil's absence, and entered the shop in time to hear his rotégé "daring again the field" in terrible triplets. Leoni dashed into e back parlour, seized his pupil by the freshly-created curls, and (so ith the historian) beat him homewards. Kean's Story of a Gambler.-Among Kean's many social qualities, was hat of telling an anecdote with a power that made it live before you. The erson of whom the following story was told by him, we shall call Mr. A., r he is now living, and it is not to the purpose to annoy a reclaimed imester by an exposure of his name. Mr. A. squandered away his fortune wooing the fickle goddess at the fashionable hells, but he had one rule om which he never departed: if a winner, he invariably gave the first endicant that met him a sovereign. It happened one wet night that he had been peculiarly fortunate; he had his pockets full of notes, and he was looking around in vain for a vehicle, when a shivering, drenched female accosted him, and implored charity. He felt in his pocket, he had neither gold nor silver; his humanity was not wrought up so high as a 51. note, and, in fact, so violent was the shower, that it would have been washed from his grasp ere he could have transferred it from his pocket to the hand of the applicant; he withdrew his hand from his waistcoat, and, with a hasty "No change," passed on, but not so quickly but that he heard a deep sigh. The beggar did not follow, nor further importune him; he walked hastily forward, but his conscience upbraided him,-a sort of gambling fatality seemed to tell him it was unlucky not to give the accustomed largess, a sort of sporting honour, to whisper that he was defrauding her of what was in a measure her due. He turned round and retraced his steps; the poor creature had huddled herself beneath the portico of a wealthy mansion,-he addressed her, and put into her benumbed hands a 51. note. The unfortunate for one moment doubted the evidence of her senses; at the next, she fell at the feet of the gamester, and literally an actually embraced them, in adoration of her benefactor. "That moment, said the gambler, was the most painful of my life; for the first time since the days of boyhood I wept,-nay, I fairly blubbered; I vowed never to game again. I shame to say, I have not wholly kept that vow." Kean added, to the honour of the votary of fortune, that though he had not, perhaps, strictly abstained from gambling, from that hour his habits were generally reclaimed, he had good feeling enough to obtain the poor woman a shelter for that night, afterwards procure her employment, and up to the period at which Kean told the story, she retained it with credit to herself, and satisfaction to her benefactor. Rob Roy by desire of his Majesty.-When George IV. went to Edinburgh, Kean was star-ing there; the King commanded the play of "Reb Roy," as a national compliment. Kean, of course, did not play; but he received one-half the receipts, which, by agreement made months before, he was to have each night during his stay. The opera was dreadfully acted. Rob Roy by Mr. Hamerton, a gentleman whose powers lay principally in the low Irishmen; Diana Vernon, by Mrs. H. Siddons, who played it merely to appear before royalty, and who, perforce, omitted ai the music; Francis Osbaldeston by Mr. Huckel, of the Haymarket, wh would have been more at home in Dandie Dinmont; and Helen McGregor by Mrs. Renaud (formerly Mrs. Powell), who was old and inanimate Between this lady and his Majesty some acquaintance had existed “mary years syne," and when she appeared, his Majesty bowed to her, which so overcame the once lovely dame, that she was scarcely audible throughout the evening. Never since the production of that attractive drama had i: been so ill-played as on the night of the Royal visit. James Sheridan Knowles.-About 1805, I remember Knowles, with a light heart and a slight figure, carrying a pair of colours in the Towe: Hamlets Militia (2d regiment). It was a custom ("more honoured in the breach than in the observance," certainly) among the Subs to nickname one another. Knowles had the sobriquet of Jeremiah, which was enunciated after the fashion of giving the word of command, i. e. "Jeremiah, hem!" A pleasant, jolly young fellow he was, and generally liked by a who knew him. He, however, quitted the militia, and at the time Jenner's discovery excited so much interest, practised as a vaccinator at the Inst tution in Dorset-street, Salisbury-square, and after a year or two this passed, went on the stage, which he left for the Professorship of Elocutica at Aberdeen. Years and travel had made the name of Ensign Knowles, of the 2d Tower Hamlets, a thing unremembered by the many who had enjoyed his society, and none of them during the sensation that his name excited some three years since thought of their quondam comrade. Indeed, many who might have remembered "Jeremiah" had forgotten "Knowles," so certain is aught of the ridiculous to live the longest in our minds. About two years since, at a provincial city, some old friends went to witness the representation of the "Hunchback :" one of the party was Bacchi plenus, and unfortunately this gentleman had formerly been, if not in, connected with, the Tower Hamlets. The face, the voice, the manner of Knowles, at an interval of at least twenty-seven years, all struck him. He was in a fever of bewilderment; the place was crowded, and the party in question had arrived late, and obtained, therefore, only furtive glances over the shoulders of the more fortunate and earlier visitors. As his friends attributed his vehement declaration that Knowles had been a comrade of his, to the errors of intoxication, they endeavoured to silence him, and told him he most probably mistook Knowles for some one who resembled him. "It's ill contradicting drunken bodies, right or wrong," says Jack Havison, "for he who will to Cupar maun to Cupar;" so it proved here, for the military gentleman, during one of Knowles's pauses in Master Walter, shouted out the sobriquet, with all the vehemence imaginable. So unheard-of and inexplicable a solecism in manners occurring in the boxes, naturally created a cry of Turn him out!" and out he was turned, but not before he had again shouted, "Jeremiah, hem!" so as visibly to attract the attention of Knowles. To the remonstrances of the police, and of his friends, the delinquent made no reply, but ejaculating, "It's him; I'll be d-d, but it's Jeremiah." The next morning he was so heartily ashamed of the affair, that nothing could prevail upon him to call upon or write to the dramatist, who possibly might feel as much pleasure in recognising an old acquaintance at a proper time and place, as he was annoyed by the recognition under such singular circumstances. Theatrical Christenings.-Actors in my time were proud of the stage; they now appear ashamed of it. It was common once for actors and managers to name their children after favourite parts or plays; thus, we believe Mr. Jerrold named his son Douglas. Old Penley named four members of his family from Mrs. Brooke's pastoral Opera, thus: Rosina, Phoebe, Belville, William. Kean properly named his coach-horse Shylock, for Shylock got him both coach and horses; and Mrs. Sumbell Wells called her (?) villa" Cowslip Lodge," in remembrance of the part that obtained her celebrity. Dowton and Mathews.-Acting depends, after all, much more upon personal peculiarities than critics will admit ;-take a few instances. Dowton's passionate old men are pronounced faultless; they are so-nothing can be more true to nature, for it is Dowton's nature. I have seen Dowton, annoyed at dinner, snatch his wig off his head, and fling it into the fire. There is scarcely any extravagance of manner that he has portrayed in Sir Anthony, Restive, or Oldboy, that I have not noticed in him in private life. I have seen him deprived of speech by irritation. Mimicry, in Mathews, may be described as an affection of the nervous system. When he was a boy, if any one entered his father's shop who had any striking peculiarities of visage or manner, the muscles of Mathews moved sympathetically, and his ear at the same time caught, and his voice re-echoed, the sounds. A Mrs. P, wife of a solicitor in Street, Piccadilly, had the good sense to observe this without feeling offended at the liberty taken with a slight oddity of her own, and was indirectly the cause of his cultivating that talent peculiarly. If practice makes perfect, the great master's perfectibility may be thus accounted for. He adores his profession, and though a man of education, and a lover of the fine arts, he makes every pursuit bear directly upon his own. Dec.-VOL. XLII, NO. CLXVIII. 2 L |