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THE Dunlop Street Theatre
had now been in existence for twenty-two years. During that period, the
city had changed its aspect. The ragged lanes and wasted patches were
now the sites of villas and pleasure grounds. St. Enoch Croft had grown
into a beautiful park, and Queen Street had become the fashionable
centre of residence, handsome villas lining the street. Glasgow, with
that taste for art which has made it so justly famous, felt that the
time had arrived for the erection of some edifice worthy to represent
the city's interest in dramatic art. From the commercial point of view,
it was deemed a feasible scheme to build a new theatre, and accordingly,
in 1804, at the extreme westward end of the city, in Queen Street,
operations were commenced. The position occupied was close to the
present
Royal Exchange, the
western boundary of the theatre running nearly in line with the North
Court, off Exchange Square. The committee of merchants included the
names of Laurence Craigie, John Hamilton, Dugald Bannatyne, William
Penny, and Robert Dennistoun. At the top of Queen Street West, was an
unsightly spot of earth, on which stood a decayed farmhouse. This
building was purchased from the Magistrates, as also a piece of ground
stretching northwards towards St. Vincent Place. The entire cost was
estimated at £18,500, and subscription shares were sold at £25 each. In
twelve months' time the building was completed, and for its description
we may be pardoned the use of Mr. Baynhain's account in his admirable
epitome of The Glasgow Stage.
"The front was
composed of an arcade basement, supporting six Ionic columns, 30
feet in height, with corresponding pilasters, entablatures and
appropriate devices. The principal vestibule led to the boxes by a
double flight of stairs, and was separated from the corridors by a
screen interspersed with Corinthian columns. The proscenium was
thirty feet wide and decorated with antique ornaments, and the stage
balconies were tastefully executed."
Seating 1,500 people, the
house was supposed to hold £260, the yearly rental being fixed at
£1,200. Upon its boards, in due course, appeared some of the greatest
stars of the day—the Kembles, the erratic Cooke, Kean, Macready, Munden,
Mathews the elder, Mrs. Siddons, Miss Farren, handsome Jack Bannister,
Mrs. Jordan, Dowton, Fawcett, Elliston, Braham, Liston, Miss Stephens,
Charles Mayne Young, Sinclair, Miss Tree, Catalini, Emery, (grandfather
of Miss Winifred Emery), and Mrs. Glover.
In speaking of the Queen
Street Theatre, any history would be incomplete that did not mention the
Black Bull tavern, so famous for its rendezvous. The tavern stood in
Argyle Street, at the corner of Virginia Street, on the site of Mann
Byars & Co's warehouse. It remained there up till 1858, after an
existence of eighty years, and during that time it had been the
discussion club for city politics, city improvements, hunting, theology,
and the drama. It was the home of all clubs of repute, and under its
roof foregathered the leading lights of the political, commercial,
sporting, and dramatic world, in the old days when men drank hard and
were less respectable, but more reputable. Here, too, Jackson and Aitken,
the old managers of the Dunlop Street house, must have negotiated their
application for the management of the new theatre. And successfully, as
it proved, for the theatre was let to them provisionally, upon their
promising to secure the very best histriones for the new house. That
famous comedy, The Honneymoon, the swan song of the unfortunate Tobin,
was the opening play. After passing through all the drudgery of "the
unaccepted," tired out with waiting, and sick at heart, he had gone on a
voyage for health. In his absence, his brother had been successful in
placing it on a London stage, where it became the talk of the town. But,
alas for the vanity of human wishes, when the news was carried to the
ship as she arrived at a West Indian port, the unfortunate Tobin was
beyond the reach of any human agency. The play produced an equally
successful impression in Glasgow. The opening bill read:—
There were only four
performances given per week—on Mondays, WVednesdays, Fridays, and
Saturdays.
The first star to perform
here was Miss Duncan (Mrs. Davidson), the original Juliana. of The
Honeymoon, who appeared on June 24th as Lady Teazle. Shortly after this,
Harry Johnston occupied its boards. Previously, he had filled a short
engagement with Jackson at the Dunlop Street house. Born at Lanark, and
reared in London, he made his first appearance as an actor at the age of
eighteen. His first big success was made at Edinburgh in Home's Douglas,
in which he appeared as young Norval. Just at that time the revolution
in stage costumes had commenced, and Johnston chose the occasion to
dress somewhat differently from his predecessors in the part. Formerly
it had been played in trews and Scots jacket. Johnston donned full
Highland costume—kilt, breastplate, shield, claymore, and bonnet, and,
on his first appearance, was greeted with thunderous plaudits. The
Edinburgh public considered him the best Scotsman they had ever seen on
the stage. His style was largely moulded upon that of G. F. Cooke, of
whom he was not entirely unreminiscent.
Aitken, having now
seceded from the management, Jackson entered into partnership with an
actor named Rock, only to find his invariable fate pursue him. Within
twelve months of his taking over the management of the theatre, the end
of all came, and poor Jackson, ruined in health and wealth, went over to
the great majority.
It was not till June of
1807 that the first real star came to Queen Street Theatre, when George
Frederick Cooke, "the greatest living actor of the day," was billed to
appear. Opening in Richard III., he appeared as Peregrine in John Bull,
Petruchio in Taming of the Shrew, and Sir Pertina MacSycophant in The
Man of the World. Intense excitement prevailed during his visit. His
reputation was unique: he was one of the greatest drinkers of his day.
He had reached the age of forty-five before he took London by storm as a
Shakespearean actor, and that in the character of Richard III. This took
place at Covent Garden, where the directors gave him a free benefit, the
profits of which amounted to over £560. Macready writes of him:
"My remembrance of
George Frederick Cooke, whose peculiarities added so much to the
effect of his performance, served to detract from my confidence in
assuming the crook-back tyrant. Cooke's varieties of tone seemed
limited to a loud harsh croak descending to the lowest audible
murmur: but there was such significance in each inflection, look,
and gesture, and such impressive earnestness in his whole bearing,
that he compelled your attention and interest. He was the Richard pf
the day, and in Shylock, Iago, Sir Arch. MacSarcasm, and Sir
Pertinax MacSycophant, he defied competition. His popularity far
exceeded that of Kemble."
Cooke's drinking habits
often led him into amusing contretemps with his audience. Upon one
occasion, when he was being constantly interrupted by a young officer in
the stage box, Cooke, stopping the play for a moment, went close up to
him, and addressed him thus: "D---- you, sir. Sir, the King (God bless
him) can make any fool an officer; but it is only the great God Almighty
that can make an actor."
Once in a public house he
quarrelled with a soldier. "Come out," roared Cooke, "and I'll fight
you." "You're a gentleman," pleaded the soldier; "you've money, and
everybody will take your side." "Look ye here," cried Cooke, turning out
his pockets, "here's £300, all I have in the world—there," and
staggering towards the hearth, he threw the bank notes into the fire.
"Now, I'm as poor as you: come out and fight, you villain."
Time after time the
public would read the announcement that Mr. Cooke could not appear in
consequence of "a sudden serious indisposition." Upon his appearance
after these intimations, he would be greeted with cheers, groans,
laughter, and cries of "Apology." Stepping forward with a solemn stride
and a mournful look, he would bow very low, and, with hand upon his
heart, make the invariable speech, "Ladies and gentlemen, I have had an
attack of my old coin plaint." The appeal never failed to set his
audience into a good humour again. He died in New York. At his final
performance there, his memory having failed him in the Fair Penitent, he
was forced to withdraw. When he came off the stage, he said, "I knew how
it would be. This comes of playing when I am sober."
In 1814, the management
of the Queen Street house came into the hands of the ever-popular Harry
Johnston, who had now become notorious as the man who thrashed the
Prince of Wales. The incident is worthy of mention. The future George
the Fourth had presumed to force his way into Mrs. Johnston's
dressing-room at Drury Lane. Johnston followed him quietly, and
administered a sound horse whipping. He was placed in custody, but
managed to escape; then, disguised as an old soldier, he left London on
foot for Newcastle. Later, having failed as a director of the Dublin
Theatre Royal, he came over to the Queen Street Theatre, which he
managed for a year. In his later days he was compelled, through
persistent bad luck, to live upon the kindness of his brother actors,
till he died at Lambeth. Twelve months after the Drury Lane escapade,
his wife figured in the Divorce Court, the co-respondent being the
celebrated orator and Deputy Master of the Rolls, Richard Curran.
On the 10th March, 1815,
Edmund Kean made his first appearance here under Johnston's regime. The
scene was a memorable one. All the boxes were taken a week before, and
temporary ones had to be erected on the stage. The professors from the
University and all the litterati of Edinburgh, including Francis
Jeffrey, were present, and a phenomenal crowd, which completely barred
all passage through Queen Street, had been waiting for hours before the
time of admission. Upon his second visit, in April, his repertoire
included Richard III., Othello, Sir Giles Overeach, Romeo, Penruddock
(Wheel of Fortune), and Zanga in The Revenge.
But his visit in 1820 was
not attended with the same friendly auspices. Having figured in an
action for divorce, as co-respondent, the plaintiff, Alderman Cox,
secured damages against Kean. To do Kean every justice, it was alleged
that the affair had been prearranged to extort heavy damages from the
actor. The press had been unanimous in denunciation, and the public,
taking up the cry, hissed him whenever he appeared. While resting at
Bute Cottage, Rothesay, he was Offered an engagement at Queen Street,
and opened up there for a six nights' appearance with Richard, when a
house crowded with men and boys greeted him, no women being present. Not
a word of the play was heard, the piece being acted in dumb show. The
performance of Othello met with as little success, and Brutus fared
little better. Wednesday being his last night, he, in response to the
cheering, made a speech: "Ladies and gentlemen. When I used to visit
this city, it was always a rich harvest to me, but this time, there has
been a great falling off. That, I suppose, is owing to a certain event
which has already cost me £999 more than it was worth. I am going to
America (cries of "No! No!") to perform again. if I ever return to this
country I shall certainly pay you a visit, for old kindness I never
forget. For the present I bid you a respectful farewell." When he
returned in September, he was well received, although no ladies were
present in the audience.
His next engagement, in
1827, was memorable to Kean, for the news that his son Charles would
make his debut at Drury Lane on 1st October. Previously he had said, "If
Charles tries to be an actor, I will cut his throat. I will be the first
and last actor of the name." He was playing Reuben Glenroy in Town and
Country when he heard the news, and he was unable to finish his part.
However, the tender heart of the parent came out, for he sent Lee up to
London to see " how the boy got on," and received the gratifying message
that Charles had been fairly successful.
It was in 1828 that the
new star, Charles Kean, came to Glasgow, but he did not meet with an
altogether gratifying reception. Coming to personal matters, Charles did
not .approve of his father's selection of a disreputable companion, who
was living with Kean at Bute. Meantime, the manager, in his desire for
good business, hit upon a plan to draw the crowd. He persuaded the elder
Kean to accept a one night's engagement, studiously avoiding to tell him
that it was for his son's benefit, or that they were playing together.
Lee tells the story:
"Kean got into a
terrible passion upon making the discovery, and wanted to leave the
house; but he was urged not to show spite against his own son, and
persuaded to go on. The tragedy was Brutus, Kean playing the title
role, and his son, Titus, when the Theatre Royal held the largest
audience it had ever seen. In the wings and on the stage itself
there were 250 persons. Only when the father was passing out on his
way home did he speak. 'I hope to see you, Charles, at Bute
to-morrow There will be it crust of bread and cheese for you there.'
To which Charles politely replied, 'Thank you, Father,' but never
went, going to Belfast instead."
Five years afterwards,
they met on the boards of Covent Garden, Kean appearing as Othello to
Charles' Iago. The elder made some friendly advances, and everything
went well till the third act, when he came to the celebrated speech,
"Villain," at which words Kean's voice broke down, and, falling upon his
son's shoulder, he whispered, "Get me off, Charles, I'm dying. Speak for
me." He died two months afterwards at Richmond, 13th May, 1833.
Springing out of bed, with the old fire upon him, lie cried, "A horse, a
horse, my kingdom for a horse!" and his last words were taken from the
dying speech of Octavia in The Foundling of the Forest. "Farewell,
Flo-Floranthe."
The next big engagement
was that of Miss O'Neil (21st August, 1818) in Venice Preserved, in
which she appeared as Belvidera. For this attraction the prices were
raised, which caused a somewhat tumultuous audience to hiss Johnston,
but in the end their better nature prevailed.
A novelty was announced
for 18th September, 1818:-
"Grand Crystal Lustre
of the front Roof of the Theatre, the largest of any of this time in
Scotland, will in place of the Wicks and the Candles and the Oil
Lamps be Illuminated with Sparkling Gas."
A phenomenal audience
greeted this innovation, the house presenting a brilliant appearance
with the elite and generality of the city arranged in its best finery.
The band struck up the National Anthem, the audience joined in the
chorus, when, as if by magic the gas was turned on, "leaving some of
them to fancy that they had been ushered into a new world—a perfect
Elysium on earth."
The programme on this
occasion consisted of Mozart's Don Giovanni, with John Corri conducting,
and a company of Italian artistes.
Although the fact is not
generally known, Rob Roy was produced in Glasgow nine months previous to
its Edinburgh performance. This was for the benefit of W. H. Murray, of
the latter city, on June 10th, 1818. Murray played the Bailie to the Rob
of Yates (the father of the late Edmund Yates). The event remained
unnoticed by the local press, although the play enjoyed a run of four
nights.
In 1817, Sheridan Knowles
came to Glasgow with his father, and taught elocution at his classrooms
in Reid's Court, off the Trongate. John Tait, the theatrical printer and
bill inspector, two years later introduced him to Macready. Knowles was
never a thrifty man, and, though he was getting two guineas per session
from his pupils, he was always in strained circumstances. Scenting a
possible means of raising the wind, he got Tait to despatch his MS. of
Virginius to Macready. The idea was a successful one. Macready accepted
it and paid him £400 for a twenty nights' run. Twelve years afterwards
found Knowles still as impecunious. Then he wrote The Hunchback, sent it
off to the same manager, and it was at once accepted. In rehearsing it,
Farren was stricken down with paralysis. Kean was too old to act, and
Macready himself declined the part. In despair, they sent for Knowles,
who played the part of Master Walter, and the piece became the hit of
the season. But Knowles was never fully appreciated by the Glasgow
public. When, at the end of one season, he starred with Miss Ellen Tree,
and the curtain rose on his William Tell, there were only fifty people
in the auditorium. A Glasgow critic wrote of him:
"He is an actor
though not of the very, highest class. He could not for a moment
measure spears with Kean, but with most other living performers he
need not fear comparison."
James Aitken (the father
of Miss M. A. Aitken) made his debut as Macbeth on 13th February, 1820.
He was the son of a York Street upholsterer, and had been a divinity
student, having in the course of his studies taken elocution lessons
under Sheridan Knowles.
Amongst those who were
present at his first appearance were Dr. Chalmers and Edward Irving.
Macbeth proved a big success, being repeated nine times during the
following three weeks. The part in which Aitken was best remembered was
Vanderin' Steenic in the drama of The Rose of Etrick Vale. Through all
the vicissitudes native to this profession, he gradually sunk into the
part of walking gentleman at Covent Garden. Then he quarelled with John
Kemble, and returned to Glasgow to teach elocution. Combining this with
frequent appearances as a public reciter, he finally passed away in
obscurity. He died at Paisley on 19th September, 1845, having contracted
a. severe chill after a public engagement.
A powerful rival to the
Queen Street managers rose up in the person of Mr. Kinloch, who took a
theatre in Dunlop Street, then christened the Caledonian (1823), where
he produced the hit of those days, a play founded on Pierce Egan's Tom
and Jerry, making a clear profit on his season's work of £2,000.
The year 1825 brought the
eccentric J. H. Alexander before the Glasgow public. Having had a
somewhat varied career as tragedian, low comedian, character actor, and
heavy gent, he went into management at Carlisle, and in 1822 he took the
minor theatre hitherto managed by Kinloch. In 1825, hearing the
Caledonian Theatre was in the market, he resolved to secure it. Seymour,
the stage manager at Queen Street, managed to forestall him, and
obtained possession. When Alexander arrived, he discovered he was too
late, but it was not long before he had completed his plan of campaign.
The building was not wholly occupied. Underneath was a cellar tenanted
by a cotton dealer and potato merchant. Settling terms with this man of
business, Alexander took up his abode therein. Seymour opened the
Caledonian upstairs with Macbeth. Meantime Alexander christened his
cellar "The Dominion of Fancy," and opened up the same night with The
Battle of Inch. In the words of Mr. Baynham:
"Macbeth was acted
nearly throughout to the tuneful accompaniment of the shouts of the
soldiery, the clanging of dish covers, the clashing of swords, the
banging of drums, with the fumes of blue fire every now and then
rising thro' the chinks of the planks from the stage below to the
stage above. The audience laughed, and this stimulated the wrath of
the combative managers. Any new sensation will draw an audience, and
the fact of getting extraordinary effects unrehearsed, and certainly
never seen before, drew large audiences."
The rivals besought
magisterial aid to save themselves from each other, with the result that
Seymour was allowed to open four nights a week, and Alexander two
nights, Saturday and Monday, the best of the whole week. An appeal to
the Court of Session only brought a confirmation of the Magistrates'
decision. Then the struggle for supremacy took place. When "The Dominion
of Fancy" opened, its performance was subordinated to the noise of a
brass band playing upstairs in Seymour's house. Following upon this came
another appeal, and the instructions that "Neither party was to annoy
the other, and, on any more complaints being brought, both places would
be ordered to be closed."
Seymour's people next
lifted the planking and poured water on the audience below. The climax
was reached at the production of Der Freischufz, which was staged by
both houses. Seymour's party mustered in strong force and took full
advantage of the gaps in the planks to spoil the performance below. In
the incantation scene, the dragon could not spit out his fiery fumes,
and he was held by the tail till his fire had burned out. The
skeleton-hunters were disturbed in their wild career: the curtain could
not fall, and the cast had to be told to come off the stage. The magic
circle was broken; Zaniel and his skeleton horseman had to walk off with
the rest. To complete the devastation, the curtain came down with a
crash, and the accompanying volumes of dust nearly suffocated the
spectators. So ended this tale of rivalry. But it was not a failure, by
any means. The public deserted the Queen Street Theatre and came to see
the fun. Toni and Jerry ran for a month, being played at both houses
simultaneously during one of the weeks. And after such events who shall
say that the Scots lack any sense of humour!
The late proprietor of
the Theatre Royal, Queen Street, having disappeared with the keys of
that house, leaving behind a bill for six months' rent, the entry of Mr.
Frank Seymour could not by any manner of euphemism be called an
impressive one. This gentleman was compelled to go through the
green-room window to open the door of the theatre.
Opening with Liston in
Kennedy's comedy, Sweethearts and Wives and the farce, X. Y. Z., the
engagement proved so successful that he determined to renovate the
place. During the progress of these repairs, the company played at the
old, quarters in Dunlop Street. When the re-decoration was completed, he
opened with a strong bill consisting of that hardy perennial, Rob Roy.
One of his most successful shows was the production of Aladdin, on 10th
May, 1826, for which the attractions were eighteen new scenes, a
military band, fifty supernumaries, magic properties, and a flying
palace built on a platform thirty feet long by eight feet broad, one of
the biggest hits of the Glasgow stage. Another notable engagement was
that of Andrew Ducrow, who brought a double company of a hundred ladies
and gentlemen, a stud of forty horses, pack of hounds, and a stage for
the equestrian spectacle, "A Stag Hunt." The house was burned down on
10th January, 1829. The proprietor's losses were largely covered by
insurance, but a sum of £2,000 was lost through destruction of music,
books, papers, etc. A ball was given at the Assembly Rooms, Ingram
Street, at which £1,000 was realised for the benefit of Seymour.
On 2nd October, 1829,
Seymour opened a new house in York Street, for which he claimed the
patent of the Theatre Royal. His opening star was Edmund Kean, in the
part of Shylock; Braham, Rae, Macready, and a host of others following
in succession. The experiment was a failure, however, the York Street
house remaining open only during a period of eighteen months.
Meantime J. H. Alexander
had returned to Dunlop Street, and, after having made vast alterations
in that house, opened his season with Dimond's Royal Oak, or the Days of
Charles the Second, himself playing the part of the King. It was during
this season that he again came into rivalry with his old opponent,
Seymour, at the York Street Theatre. It was Alexander that scored this
time. He managed to secure the stars, such as Vandenhoff, Miss Jarman,
T. P. Cooke with his nautical dramas, Liston in Paul Pry, Mackay in the
favourite parts of his repertoire, Bride of Lammerrnoor, Gilderoy,
Crainond Brig, Guy Mannering, and in his memorable Bailie Nicol Jarvie.
Harry Johnston, F. H. Lloyd, and the Siamese twins appeared at Dunlop
Street during the same year. Kean played in Othello and several other
plays. Concerning the last named, Mr. G. W. Baynham tells a rather
interesting story:-
"The Iago to his
Othello was an old actor called Willie Johnstone. Johnstone was very
rheumatic. Kean was also weak in the legs. In the business of the
third act both actors knelt in front of the stage, and neither of
them found it possible to get up again. On Iago saying to his
general, ' Do not rise yet,' Kean was heard to mutter, ' D----d if I
think I ever shall rise again.' Both gentlemen remained, unable to
move, until Kean managed to raise himself by clinging to his ancient
friend, in which endeavour both nearly rolled over together, the
gallery boys meantime applauding vociferously, and shouting, 'Try it
again, Willie, try the other leg. Now faut haun's and knees.' At
last, Mr. AIexander, who was playing Roderigo, taking pity on poor
Willie, came on the stage and placed him safely on his feet, amid a
cry from the gods of ' Houp-la,' and a round of applause for his
humanity."
When one has noted in
1836 the appearance of G. V. Brooke (then a humble member of the stock
company), the visit of Charles Mathew the younger, and the advent of a
formidable rival in the person of Ducrow, who, emboldened with the
success of his London show (Astley's old circus), opened an arena in
Hope Street, until the year 1842, nothing of unusual prominence
occurred.
In February of that year,
Mr. and Mrs.
Charles Kean commenced a
fortnight's engagement. Kean was somewhat undersized, his head was
large, his legs rather thin, and his voice had an unfortunate huskiness
of tone. In addition to this, he experienced some difficulty with the
consonant M, which he sounded like B, and N like D. As an example of
this, one of his opening sentences became, "Bost postedt g—r—rave and
r—r—everend scidaors." But the grace of his gestures, and the effects he
obtained by the use of his brilliant dark eyes, quite overcame these
defects, and conquered the hearts of his audiences. It is of him the
familiar story is told:
In Richard the Third
his best point was, Off with his head, so much for Buckingham.' On
one occasion he was disappointed in its delivery. In the scene where
the capture of the Duke of Buckingham is announced, the messenger
should say, `My lord, they have captured Buckingham,' but the actor
was somewhat nervous, and in his flurry said, 'My Lord, the Duke of
Buckingham is dead.' FlummoxedI' exclaimed Kean, using his favourite
expression. 'Then what the d are we to do with him Flow.'
In this year D. P. Miller
announced the opening of the Adelphi Theatre, stating that he would
retain so good an ordinary company that no stars would be required. He
opened with Richard the Third, W. Johnston playing title role and John
Grey the part of Richmond. The circumstances which led to Miller's
adopting the theatrical profession were peculiar. In 1839 he was a
showman at Glasgow Fair, conducting a' conjuring booth which stood
opposite to Anderson's, "the Wizard of the North," who was then coining
money with his Great Gun Trick. Miller copied the trick, charging one
penny admission, where Anderson charged sixpence. The profit which he
gained from this enabled him to commence the Adelphi. His greatest hit
was a performance of As You Like It, with Miss Saker as Rosalind. This
lady in the course of events became Mrs. R. H. Wyndham. The Touchstone
on this occasion was Henry Lloyd.
To the Adelphi belongs the honour of Phelps' first Glasgow appearance on
14th February, 1843, when he essayed the part of Hamlet. His visits to
Glasgow were very few, although he was always a favourite in that city.
His Iast performances there were the Bailie and Sir Pertinax
MacSycophant, the latter being considered one of the finest
interpretations of the part.
Perhaps at this juncture
a reference to that historical institution, beloved of our grandsires,
Muinford's Geggie, may not be inopportune. Its owner was a Bedfordshire
man. As a child he was far ahead of his playfellows. He constructed a
dress for himself made solely of straw, and this led to his being
regarded as the lion of his native town. Flushed with his success, he
took the road to London, where he exhibited in the open air. After being
constantly worried by the police, he set up a marionette show, and, at
the end of his travels, he finally landed in Glasgow, where the pristine
youth of that city regarded him as a public benefactor. But a periodic
worship of the bottle fiend would sometimes lead to weeks of enforced
absence. Upon his return, he would often give an open-air address on the
temperance question. "If you knew," he hiccuped one day, as he supported
himself by one of the posts of his show, "if you knew the
advantages to be derived from abstaining from intoxicating drink, you
would shun whisky (hic) as you would the very devil." "You're drunk
yourself! " said one of the crowd. "I know it," said Mumford, "but what
did I get drunk for? Not for my own gratification, but (hic) for your
profit, that you might see what a beast a man is when he puts an enemy,
to his lips. I got drunk (hic) for your good."
Alexander, finding out
that Mumford's Show was interfering with the rights of his patent,
obtained an injunction against him, which resulted in the closing of the
"Geggie."
It was in the month of
May, 1843, that Edmund Glover brought his Edinburgh company, seventy in
all, to the Dunlop Street house, where, amongst other things, he played
Romeo and Petruchio.
On December 11th of the
same year, Helen Faucit made her debit at the Theatre Royal. Her initial
performance was Pauline in The Lady of Lyons, and, during her seventeen
nights' engagement, she appeared in the parts of Juliet, Rosalind, Mrs.
Hailer, and Lady Macbeth. Her farewell performance was given on December
5th, 1870, when she played Beatrice in Much Ado About Nothing. To
Glasgow she was the favourite actress, and to the last she was entirely
beloved, after an acquaintance of twenty-seven years with the audiences
of this city.
Returning to Alexander,
his salary list was a proverbially niggard one, and, as the years
passed, he became increasingly mean. During its existence, his stock
company could boast the names of such sterling actors as Glover, Powrie,
Paumier, Lloyd, Fitzroy, and Webster. It is said that, in The Hunchback,
Miss Faucit as Julia, Glover as Master Walter, and Powrie as Clifford,
were never equalled. Coming as she did from such a perfect stage manager
as Macready, Miss Faucit was inclined to be autocratic, and, as a
consequence, was never really loved by the professionals. Instances
occurred where she would be about two hours late for rehearsals, and
upon her arrival would insist upon the whole play being again rehearsed.
Every attention had to be lavished upon her. A large draught screen was
placed behind her, a cushioned arm-chair was provided, and during the
performance the green room, usually the common property of the cast, had
to be completely reserved for her use. She was a willing worker in the
cause of charity. Her last public appearance was at the St. Andrew's
Hall, where she gave dramatic readings in aid of the Fund for the
assistance of the City Bank victims.
At the Adelphi Theatre,
Miller opened up his second season in 1844, and now devoted himself to
the task of strengthening his stock company. His leading man was Tom
Lyon, the London Adelphi favourite; Melloure, low comedian; and Stark
and M'Gregor, Scotch comedians. On his list of stars appeared the names
of Graham, Lloyd, Sheridan Knowles, and Mackay, the last named as the
Bailie, a fact which was facetiously announced that he "now appeared for
the first time in his ain locality, the Sautmarket."
Christmas of 1844 saw the
production of Cinderella, admittedly one of the best spectacles Glasgow
had ever witnessed. The pantomime included the famous Leclercq family—M.
Leclercq, the ballet master; Charles Leclercq (late of Daly's company);
Arthur Leclercq, famous as a clown; Louise, the dancer; Carlotta and
Rose Leclercq, with whose death some years ago passed away the last of
the "grandes dames," a special character line, peculiar to fin de
siecle drama.
In this year, Alexander's
company included Miss Laura Addison, who became leading lady with Phelps
at Sadlers Wells Theatre. When Alexander produced Rob Roy, with Paumier
in the title role, he himself assumed the part of the Bailie, somewhat
unsuccessfully, as it was pronounced to be a pale echo of Mackay's
impersonation. An excerpt from the then existent Dramatic Review says:—
"The whole time Mr.
Alexander was on the stage lie was directing everybody, players,
scene shifters, and gas-men, saying, for instance audibly, 'Come
down here, sir.' `Stand you there, sir.' "MacStuart, that's not your
place.' 'Keep time with the air as I do.' 'Hold up your head, sir.'
'Speak out.' Never for a moment did he allow the audience to forget
that he was manager. He beat time to the orchestra; he spoke to the
musicians; he sang the music for other people, and he spoke their
words. In theatrical parlance, his greatest delight was 'to show the
company up.'"
A more notorious episode
occurred at a performance of Julius Ceasar. Alexander was playing
Cassius, when a gentleman in the boxes commenced to titter at him. The
manager paused and glared at the auditor, but ineffectively. Then
Cassius stepped forward: "I must request the gentleman to pay more
attention to good manners and to the feelings of the audience. I can't
have the entertainment spoiled by the disgraceful conduct of a Puppy.
For myself, I consider I am quite competent to play the part I am
engaged in, and if that fellow in the boxes continues his annoyance, I
shall feel myself compelled to personally turn him out." The play was
then continued, but not for long. Again the laughter began, and Paumier,
who played Brutus, got over the footlights, climbed into the box, and
turned the offender out.
In the year 1845,
Anderson, "The Wizard of the North," made a bid for theatrical success
by building a splendid theatre on The Green and calling it by the name
of " The City Theatre." Having opened it during the Glasgow Fair for the
display of magic and for dancing, he afterwards applied for a dramatic
license. Though at first refused, it was finally granted, and on 7th May
he commenced with an Operatic company which included J. S. Reeves (Sims
Reeves) . In an endeavour to emulate the grandeur of The City Theatre,
Anderson had the Adelphi reconstructed at a cost of £2,000. His company
went to Edinburgh during these operations, appearing in the drama,
Cherry and Fair Star. In his absence from Glasgow, Alexander put into
force a form of arrestment, seizing the property and all available cash,
in lieu of payment of the unpaid law expenses of a previous prosecution.
Anderson's Theatre proved
a great draw. Sims Reeves and Morley both appeared in The Bohemian Girl,
in which it is reported "the tenor created a furore." Here Mrs.
Fitzwilliam from the London Adelphi charmed all beholders by her
performance in The Belle of the Hotel and in The Flowers of the Forest.
To him also came, as a member of the stock company, young Barry
Sullivan, whose articulation was very distinct, but who did not appear
to understand any character he attempted. On the night of November 18th,
1845, The City Theatre was totally destroyed by fire. Upon the same
evening, performances of Der Freischutz and The Jewess had been given.
In the conflagration everything was lost.
That there were
"superior" people in Glasgow in these days is evinced by the following
extract taken from the Dean of Guild Report, 6th July, 1849:
"Calvert, of the
wooden Hibernian Theatre, obtained authority to erect a new brick
edifice in Greendyke Street immediately to the east of the Episcopal
Chapel, and adjoining the Model Lodging Houses for the working
classes. Now that the Adelphi Theatre, the City Theatre, and Cook's
Circus have been all swept off the Green by fire in less than four
years, we have no doubt that this Hibernian will have `ample room
and verge enough' for dishing up the penny. drama for the
delectation and improvement of the canaille and young Red
Republicans of the Bridgegate, the Wynds, Saltmarket, High Street,
the Vennels, and the Havannahs. Since the house is to go up, the
Court wisely resolved to look to its security by appointing Mr.
Andrew Brockett, wright, to inspect it during its progress, and see
to its sufficiency."
The building was
Calvert's new theatre, which he christened "The Queen's Theatre."
With the year 1845
commences the records of the travelling companies, and with that our
history of the Glasgow stage should appropriately end. The first company
came from the Theatre Royal, Haymarket, and amongst its members may be
mentioned the names of Howe, Holl, Brindal, Braid, Tilbury, Coe, Little
Clark, Miss Julia Bennett and Mrs. Heunley. Someone has said that the
story of a people must be the history of its great men, and so with
equal relevancy one might say that he who would read the latter history
of dramatic Glasgow must read the records of Britain's theatrical stars
of the past and present generations, where the appreciation of the
Glasgow, audiences reads as one of the chief conquests they have made. |
