University of Virginia Library


11

The stage represents the British stage in a deplorable condition —The Drama is discovered in a languishing state upon it, surrounded by the different Theatres.

Glee—“The Chough and Crow”—Solo.
Thalia now is dead and gone,
No more her smiles we see,
And fainter grows the feeble moan
Of poor Melpomene!
Spectacle dances 'mid her actors dumb,
With red fire ends each play;
Uprouse ye, ma'am, here's Easter come,
It is our opening day.
Chorus
—Uprouse ye, &c
Solo.
Both patents now are fast asleep,
The laws relax their powers,
And winter seasons gently creep
On 'mid the summer flowers.
While summer domes with “warm air stoves,”
In winter now make hay,
And Easter Monday opens all
To scrambles as they may.
Uprouse ye, then, here's Easter come,
It is our opening day.
Chorus
—Uprouse, &c.


12

Dra.
Why call ye now upon the Drama's name?
Are ye as void of pity as of shame?
What has reduced me to this wretched state
But your own folly, which ye call your fate?
Time was when I was healthy, gay, and strong,
Useful to you and welcome to the throng.
You taught the people first to view with scorn
My plain but noble child, my eldest born,
And bid the offspring whom I blush to own
Aspire to mount before him on the throne.
Now with their feuds they rend my feeble frame,
And rob me both of fortune and of fame.
(noise without)
Hark! There, again!—that worse than O. P. riot;
Why won't they let the Drama die in quiet?
Go, part those children; bid them both appear!

Enter Legitimate Drama in a Roman toga.
L. Dra.
He whom they own Legitimate is here!

Dra.
You naughty boy! when I'm so very poorly;
You have been fighting with your brother surely.

L. Dra.
I have; because of him I can't get fed,
Whilst he is almost sick with gingerbread.

Dra.
Will you ne'er cease this ruinous debate?
Where's that audacious Illegitimate?

Enter Illegitimate Drama in a dress half harlequin and half melo-dramatic.
I. Dra.
Behold! (striking an attitude)


Dra.
Unnatural son!

I. Dra.
Is't thus I'm styled?
I always thought I was your natural child.

L. Dra.
He puns! He'll pick a pocket the next minute!

I. Dra.
I shan't pick yours, because there's nothing in it!

L. Dra.
That is because you robb'd me long ago!

I. Dra.
Come, who began to rob, I'd like to know?
When I was quite a child in leading string,
Before I'd learnt to speak, or anything

13

But dance my dolls to music, didn't you
Begin to vow they were your playthings too?
Stole from the nursery of my best hopes,
My rocking horses and my skipping-ropes,
And took my harlequins from loss to save you,
And now you blame the punches that I gave you.

Duet—Legitimate Drama and Illegitimate Drama— “You Minicking Miss”—“Midas.”
L. Dra.
You mimicking fool, do you hope with the town
Your trumpery shows will go longer down?

I. Dra.
D'ye think they ever would come you to see,
If it wasn't for show that you take from me?

L. Dra.
Tawdry elf!

I. Dra.
Go look at yourself!
You've laid till you're mouldy on the shelf.

L. Dra.
You lay out in gingerbread all your pelf.

(they attack each other—Theatres take different sides)
Dra.
Hence both and each who either cause espouses!
You'll drive me mad! a plague on all your houses!
(drives them all out)
Unless between themselves they soon agree,
Those boys, I feel, will be the death of me!
They so confound me that though I'm their mother,
I vow I sometimes can't tell one from t'other.
I'm half distracted with the horrid din!

Enter Green Coat Man.
Man.
Miss Praise and Mr. Censure.

Dra.
Shew them in.

(Exit Man)
Enter Praise and Censure—The former dressed as a nymph crowned with flowers—the latter as a crabbed old man with a scourge in his hand.
Pra.
My dearest Drama, I've just called to see
If I of any use on earth can be.


14

Dra.
You're very kind, good Praise, but if not true
Your sweetest words for me can little do.

Cen.
I tell her so, but yet she goes on flattering,
And thinks to drown my cat-call with her chattering.
I'm your best friend; though you prefer applause,
I've almost worn my whip out in your cause.

Dra.
You mean me well, and give me no alarm,
For where 'tis undeserved your lash can't harm.
But my sad case the skill of both defies,
The doctors differ and the patient dies.

Pra.
To these low spirits you must not give way.
Come, rouse yourself; we're going to the play!
You haven't visited your realm of late,
You scarce know what is doing in your state!
Suppose you see a novelty or two!

Cen.
A what?

Pra.
Well, something that's as good as new.

Cen.
Then it's as bad as anything can be.

Pra.
Oh, there's no pleasing you, of course, but we
Are not so difficult. (to Drama)
Suppose you cast

A retrospective glance—peep at the past!
See in what shape the Town has been to view you!

Dra.
Well, if you think there's hope!

Cen.
Much good may't do you.

Dra.
Don't go! (to Censure)


Cen.
Not I! Praise may her zeal relax,
But Censure sticks to you as close as wax.

Dra.
What ho! ye Theatres both great and small!
Attend for once, at least, the Drama's call!
If for my future fate you really feel,
Shew how you've lately laboured for my weal!
“Come high, come low,
Thyself and office deftly shew.”

Music—Enter Spirit of Drury Lane Theatre—The curtain at the back of the stage rises and discovers an Egyptian Temple—Before it are Pamina, Monostastos, Papageno.

15

Dra.
What well-known sounds awake to joy my heart!

Pra.
It is the magic music of Mozart.

[Pamina, Monostastos, Papageno]
Trio—From Mozart's Opera “The Zauberflote.”
O, music enchanting, thus floating around, la, la, la, &c.
With pleasure is panting each heart at the sound, la, la, la, &c.

The curtain falls.
Cen.
Well, I've heard that a hundred times before.

Pra.
And can't find fault with it.

Cen.
No, that's the bore.
I can find quite enough, though, with the story.

Pra.
But modern music also now may claim
The Drama's smile. A minstrel new to fame
Hath sung in mountain accents wild and free
The love test of the gentle “Amilie.”

The curtain rises and discovers a forest scene with Gipsies encampted.
Dra.
And who has warbled this melodious tale?

Cen.
His name is Rooke.

Pra.
It should be Nightingale.

Cen.
That's right! it's only to seek Praise to win her!

Dra.
She should encourage such a good beginner.

Pra.
To carp at everything you make a rule.

Cen.
No, sometimes in disguise I praise a fool.

Dra.
But who's yon steel-clad knight?

Pra.
Heaven save the mark!
It is the Maid of Orleans—Joan of Arc!


16

Enter 1st Joan of Arc.
Dra.
How! Joan of Arc! Heroic La Pucelle!
Oh, welcome to my arms! Why this is well!
And so to Shakespeare they return at last.

1st J.
To Shakespeare, ma'am?

Dra.
Why stand you thus aghast!
Are you not Shakespeare's Joan?

1st J.
Oh dear me, no!
I'm highly flattered if you thought so though.

Cen.
That was before she heard you speak, remember.

Pra.
She fought a famous battle last November.
In Covent Garden.

1st J.
Yes, ma'am, to be sure!

Dra.
Well, but behold another Simon Pure.
Enter 2nd Joan of Arc.
Quick, say what claim have you to my affection.

2nd J.
I'd rather sing it if you've no objection.
Air—Joan—From the Opera.
My trumpet I'll sound for an hour,
Or longer, I'm sure, if you like.
To make all the noise in one's power,
Is one way the public to strike.
With clash and dash and crash,
And song and throng and gong,
No matter so you make a splash,
If you are right or wrong!
My trumpet, &c.

Dra.
Oh, for the Joans of Schiller, Shakespeare, Southey!

1st J.
Away, Miss Musical!

2nd J.
Begone Miss Mouthey!


17

Duet—Two Joans—“Beggar's Opera.”
1st J.
Why, how now, Madam Pert?
If names you come to calling
Your pride, I trow, is hurt,
Because I spoilt your squalling.
Madam Pert!

2nd J.
Why how now, saucy jade?
This is my anger rouses,
You'll find I can draw blade
If I could not draw houses.
Saucy jade!

(they fight off)
Cen.
Aye, let them hence, their difference to settle.

Pra.
Well, you can't say that either wanted mettle.

Dra.
Is there no five act play?

Pra.
I beg your pardon,
Another lady comes from Covent Garden.

Enter the Lady of Lyons.
Pra.
Of Orleans too?

Lady.
No, madam; I'm of Lyons.
But English born—child of a friend of Ion's,
And beg to say—what e'er you may have heard—
That I'm no democrat, upon my word.
I only civil war with critics wage
And would but revolutionise the stage.

Dra.
Then on and prosper—you've your work to do,
I shall be happy to see more like you.
(they curtsey—exit Lady of Lyons)
But hark! what sound is that? What do they try
To catch with so much eagerness?


18

Cen.
(contemptuously)
A fly.

(an enormous fly crosses stage, pursued by all the theatre)
Dra.
A fly!
Ye gods! what would they make of that?

Cen.
Make! why a bait for gudgeons,—verbum sat.

Dra.
Who's caught it?

Pra.
The Adelphi.

Dra.
What, the scene
That owned “The Wreck Ashore” and “Victorine”!
Where my domestic virtues found a home;
Must insects desecrate its hallowed dome?
Go, scourge it thence.

(Censure drives out the fly)
Pra.
Nay, one such fault forgive.
You know “who live to please, must please to live;”
And here's an envoy from the Adelphi's stage
Who has the power to calm e'en Censure's rage.
Enter Rory O'More.
Air—Praise—“Rory O'More.”
'Tis Rory O'More! sure you've heard of his name;
Praise ne'er yet was tired of singing his fame,
To the rogue 'twas myself that first oped the stage door,
And 'tis all for good luck, says bould Rory O'More.

Rory.
You may say that with your own pretty face.

Pra.
You're just in time the Drama's frowns to chase.


19

Rory.
In time! sure, where's the wonder, now, of that?
Ain't I an Irishman? I must come Pat;
But what's the row? What can I do to please you?
If the blue devils in the least way tease you,
Be aisy and I'll tell ye what'll smother 'em,
The story of the Fox of Ballybotherem;
I'll tell it—

Pra.
Thank'ye, Rory, but not now.
When at the Haymarket you make your bow,
We'll come to see you—that you know's a place
From whence the Drama nothing yet could chase.

Rory.
Talking of chase—oh, sure then did you see
“The Love Chase” there?

Dra.
It was a gift to me
From one o'er whom my ancient spirit rolls,
Your countryman and my best servant—Knowles.

Pra.
Rejoice, Green Isle, that minstrel is thine own!

Rory.
Sure, 'tis yourself's the real blarney stone.

(Exit Rory).
Re-enter Censure.
Cen.
The fly has flown; I left him in a hurry;
And now he's gone to buzz about “The Surrey.”

Dra.
With all my heart, for there I ceased to go
When first upon those boards they “Jumped Jim Crow.”

Pra.
It was a pretty air—but there I stop;
Its further eulogy e'en Praise must drop.
Air—Praise—“Jump Jim Crow.”
“The Surrey”—well that name, alas!
May wake the Drama's woe,

20

'Twas there she went some time to pass,
When driven hence by show.
But just as she had brought its stage,
A better taste to know,
They turned about and wheeled about,
And jump'd Jim Crow.
She can't forget that Elliston
Here played his latest part,
That Dibdin made all fashion run
To see “Mid Lothian's Heart,”
Where Shakespeare and where Walter Scott
Had just begun to grow,
'Twas pity sure on such a spot
To jump Jim Crow.

Enter the Black Domino.
Cen.
Talk of the devil! and behold him—

Dra.
(starting)
No!
You never mean to say that that's Jim Crow?

Cen.
Well, it's as black as any crow, I'll swear!

Pra.
'Tis the Black Domino. Bon jour, ma chère!

Dra.
Pray, to what theatre do you belong?

Covent Garden, Olympic, St. James's, Adelphi
, all speaking, one after the other)
To mine! to mine! to mine! to mine!

Dra.
Nay, wrong
Some of you sure must be.

Pra.
No, they're all right;
She had a sort of general invite.


21

Air—Praise—From the Opera.
From Paris came the puzzling dame,
So widely spread her fame, all wanted here to shew
“Le Domino.”
'Twas Mungo here and Mungo there,
And Mungo everywhere, from Edgware Road to Bow
“Le Domino.”
To hold her fast in vain they tried,
The “only score” in vain was cried,
There seemed at least a score beside.
From puffs they almost came to blows,
About this game of Dominoes,
The cry was still she comes and will
Our pit and boxes fill
Until they overflow,
Sweet Domino.

Cen.
But no, no, no! 'twasn't so,
When she came 'twas no go,
Poor Domino!

Dra.
Let the girl answer for herself, I pray,

Cen.
She didn't answer anywhere, they say.

Pra.
She answered well enough in Wych Street.

Cen.
True.
Because to speak for her, she there had you.


22

Dra.
Wych Street—where's that?

Pra.
Why, you know Drury Lane!

Dra.
Once I did—well.

Pra.
And so you will again.
For whatso'er may be the moment's rage,
The British public love the British stage,
And days as bright as when thy birth was seen,
Are dawning 'neath another British Queen.
To thine old temples she hath led the town,
With garlands fresh thy Shakespeare's bust to crown;
Richard, Coriolanus, Hamlet, Lear,
In splendour worthy of themselves appear;
And by their Sovereign's gracious smile inspired,
Shall British bards with nobler ardour fired,
Strike chords which find their echoes in the heart,
And make the muses from their slumber start.

Dra.
O joy, to think that there may yet be such!

Cen.
Methinks the lady doth protest too much;
But time will shew. For my part I don't mind,
Censure can always occupation find.
There can't be anything so much the fashion
But I shall find a place to lay my lash on;
And you (to Praise) who think yourself the pink to be
Of all politeness and civility,
You have been talking in this flow'ry style,
And kept a lady standing all the while.

(points to Black Domino)
Pra.
Ah, milles pardons, we've done with you, my dear.

Cen.
Run back to Paris, for you can't run here.

(exit Black Domino)
Dra.
But where's this Wych Street? Is it very far?

Pra.
No, a few yards on this side Temple Bar.


23

Dra.
What do they play there? Farces, I suppose.

Pra.
Burlettas only.

Dra.
What on earth are those?

Cen.
Nobody ever knew that I could find.

Pra.
I wish you'd just look in.

Dra.
I've half a mind.
Will you go with us? (to Censure)


Cen.
To be sure I will.
There's a new piece to-night. It may go ill;
At any rate she shan't have all her way.

Dra.
Come, let's begone.

Cen.
The Drama at the Play!
Wonders will never cease.

Pra.
Stop! here come two
Or three whom I must first present to you.
Enter Sam Weller.
A comic servant from the Strand—Sam Weller.
One that they call a very pleasant feller.

Sam.
Samivel Veller, if you please, my name is.

Enter the Ambassadress.
Pra.
A fair Ambassadress from the St. James!

Dra.
Your Excellency's welcome to this court,
I've heard of you a very good report!


24

Cen.
(impatiently)
Come, come!

Enter Don Juan.
Pra.
Don Juan from the Norton Folgate.

Cen.
Have you got nothing from the pump at Aldgate?

Pra.
Don't mind him; he's too sour to relish Honey!
The City is the place for making money.

Cen.
If you are going through the houses quite,
I beg to say we shan't have done to-night!
Of minor theatres there's half a million;
There's Sadler's Wells, the Garrick, the Pavilion;
The Queen's, the Kent, the Portman, the—

Dra.
Oh, dear!
I really cannot have them all appear.
My compliments—I'm glad to hear they thrive,
I'll see 'em all next week—if I'm alive!
My carriage there!

Cen.
Her carriage! Bless my heart!
She used to ride with Thespis in a cart!

Pra.
'Tis but a step—the way is short and certain.
Hey! presto! pass!
(they step forward, the curtain falls behind them)
There! we're before the curtain!
Where shall we go? Where would you like to sit?


25

Cen.
Go where you please. My place is in the pit!

(Exit Censure).
Pra.
To take a private box I sent my page!

Dra.
The Drama's proper place is on the stage.

Pra.
Yes, at a patent house! but here, you know,
It's quite against the law. I'll tell you, though,
How you may manage. Sing some arietta!
And if they question you, say you're Burletta.

Dra.
What do they play to-night?

Pra.
What most will suit your
Taste, I shall fancy,—“A Dream of the Future.”

(Exit Praise)
Dra.
(looking round the house)
So this is what folks the Olympic call;
It's very pretty, but it's very small.
Yet it has one advantage, no means slight,—
They could both see and hear me if they might.
Enter Fancy.
Who's this that slips the mystic curtain through?

Fan.
A friend to the Olympic and to you.
My name is Fancy; I have come to play
At least a well-intentioned part to-day.
America, you'll grieve to hear, intends
To tempt the Olympic queen from her old friends,
And—the mere notion almost drives me frantic—
To take a trip across the wide Atlantic.

Dra.
Dear, how provoking! just as I begin
Her fate to take a kindly interest in,
She's lured away by those etarnal Yankees.
It is too bad,—for ever this the prank is.
Actors or actresses,—there isn't one
Who any service to my state has done
But in a moment he or she is picked off
As by a long Kentucky rifle!—Tricked off

26

Like kidnapp'd niggers from me in a trice;
I won't put up with it for any price.
Song—Drama—“Yankee Doodle.”
Yankee Doodle comes to town—sees a clever actor,
Snaps him up and binds him down like a malefactor,
Packs him off to Liverpool by the railroad handy,
Leaving me to play the fool with any Jack-a-dandy.
Off from me each hope to cut—with rage it makes me tremble—
He killed my Cooke, and to a Butler changed my Fanny Kemble,
Took my power o'er the sea, of both my woods bereft me,
And robbed me of the only tree that cruel fate had left me.

Fan.
Well, if he caused your woods and trees to range,
He sent a mighty Forrest in exchange.
But calm yourself, and hear how I propose
This project to the public to disclose.
When Vestris of the future feigns to dream,
To make her really do so is my scheme,
And thus in lieu of the well-known burletta,
Fancy will shew a newer—not a better.

The curtains undraws to the Air, and discovers the dressing-room scene in the “Dream of the Future.” Madam V. as

27

Honoria Walsingham, and Miss Lee as Georgiana (their original characters in the drama) asleep on the sofa.

Fan.
This scene is from the piece. Two sisters fall
Asleep while talking all about a ball.
Miss Lee, my dear, get up, you needn't stay.

Miss L.
But, bless me, ma'am, what will the public say?

Fan.
Forgive us for our cause.

Miss L.
But Madame V.—

Fan.
She's fast asleep as ever she can be.

Miss L.
But there's the prompter looking.

Fan.
Never mind.
Tell him it's fancy, and you won't be fined.
(Exit Miss Lee)
Let coming events cast their shadows before,
And dream-like still blended with shadows of yore.

The back of the scene opens, and discovers the sea shore—An American packet getting under weigh—The great Sea Serpent, as in the “Deep Deep Sea,” rises.
Dra.
Preserve us, who can that strange monster be?

Fan.
The great American sea serpent. He
From the burletta of “The Deep Deep Sea.”

Ser.
I say you critter there all in a heap,
Pretty particularly fast asleep.
They want you in the States; you'll go, I guess.

Mad. V.
(in her sleep)
Go to America? Oh no!

Ser.
Oh yes!

Mad. V.
I can't indeed. I've got to get “The Dream” up.

Ser.
You must, and so you'd better get your steam up.
I give you—

Mad. V.
“Advice gratis.”

Ser.
There's a power
Of money to be made therein—

Mad. V.
“One hour.”


28

Ser.
You've signed and sealed.

Mad. V.
Shocking events!

Ser.
They've run
To take a berth for you.

Mad. V.
“What have I done?”

Ser.
On board—

Mad. V.
The Bengal Tiger.

Ser.
Stupid brutes!
There's no such packet; it's the—

Mad. V.
“Puss in Boots.”

Ser.
Well guess, I can't make anything of you,
Here's all Olympus come to say adieu.

The various Deities, &c., in the mythological burlesques descend in a glory and on parallels.
Chorus
—“Midas.”
Jove in his chair, of the sky Lord Mayor,
From on high comes good-bye now to say.
When she goes heaven knows.
Where he'll find to his mind
One who can any of us portray.
First of her school, Olympus owned her rule,
We all flew her call to obey.
Since the fates
To the States
Bid her rove,
And e'en Love
To delay the sad day now must fail,
Fill, Deities who rule the seas, with fav'ring breeze her sail.

Mad. V.
(starting up)
Give me another ship! I can't bear steam!
Have mercy, Neptune! Soft! 'twas but a dream!

29

But oh, so like the truth, it shakes my heart!
Alas! I come to own, I must depart.
And trust this mode in which I've undertaken
To say farewell will not your anger waken.
I know that Censure's somewhere in the pit,
But Praise can smother him if you think fit.
Let not his frown my future's dream o'ercast,
Pardon the peep I've taken at the past.
That past which, wheresoe'er I turn to view,
Shews some bright token of regard from you.
Deem me not vain if, in my parting hour,
With pride I call to mind each little flower
Which in the garden of this humble pile
Bloom'd its short day beneath your fostering smile;
Or look with hope—of grateful memory born—
To future blossoms and returning morn,
Such hope shall cheer me in a distant clime,
Such hope shall faster pinions give to time;
Such hope alone could now my heart sustain,
Health and high fortune till we meet again.

Finale—Solo—Madame V.—“O how shall I in language weak.”
Oh, how shall I in language weak,
My ardent feelings tell,
Or frame my faltering tongue to speak,
That cruel word farewell.
Farewell, but though I must depart
In foreign climes to stray,
Go where I will, my grateful heart
Shall in old England stay,

Chorus
—Go where she will, &c.

 

Hot air stoves were necessarily placed in the “Summer Theatres” when they were opened for the winter.

From “The Magic Flute,” an English translation of the opera “Die Zauberflote,” written and produced by me at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, 10th March, 1838.

I ventured in my preface to the English book of songs in this opera to vindicate the German author of the original libretto from the aspersions too hastily cast upon him by those who have only acquired their knowledge of the story from the wretched stuff professing to be a translation of the Italian version, sold in our opera houses, and have repeated my arguments in my “Recollections,” Vol. I., p. 276.

The opera of “Amilie, or The Love Test,” the music composed by M. W. Rooke, successfully produced at Theatre Royal, Covent Garden, 2nd December, 1837.

A grand spectacular drama by Serle, produced at Theatre Royal, Covent Garden, 28th November, 1837.

An opera on the same subject composed by Balfe, produced at Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, 30th of Nov., 1837. It was more distinguished for orchestral power than vocal melody, and had a brief existence. Balfe played King Theodore, and Miss Romer Joan of Arc.

From the late Lord Lytton's well known play, first performed 15th February, 1838.

Sir Thomas Noon Talfourd, the author of the tragedy of “Ion,” was a personal friend of the then Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, as well as of Macready, the original Claude Melnotte of the play.

An acrobat, named Harvey Leach, alias Signor Hervio Nano, who was styled “The Gnome Fly,” and amongst other sensational performances walked on the ceiling of the theatre. His services were eagerly contended for, and first secured by the Adelphi, from whence he migrated to the Surrey.

[He was also known as the “What is it,” and the “Wild Man of the Prairies,” until he was recognised by a friend as Harvey Leach, or Leech, the pot-boy, whose signature to a document I have as Leech though he was generally known as Leach. He died 16th May, 1847, and bequeathed his body to Liston, the surgeon, for the benefit of medical science.—T.F.D.C.]

From Lover's melodrama of “Rory O'More,” first performed at the Adelphi, 29th November, 1837.

It scarcely needs a note to remind the reader that the popular play of the “Love Chase” was written by Sheridan Knowles. It was first performed at the Haymarket.

It seems almost incredible that such a contemptible performance could attain the popularity achieved for it by the American introducer, T. D. Rice; but de gustibus, &c. The tune was catching, and had something, perhaps, to do with it.

Elliston became lessee of the Surrey Theatre after his failure at Drury Lane.

The success of Mr. Thomas Dibdin's adaptation of Sir Walter Scott's novel, “The Heart of Mid Lothian,” was so great that the line of carriages occasionally extended from Fleet Street, over the bridge, and the whole length of the Blackfriars Road to the doors of the theatre.

Auber's charming opera “Le Domino Noir” was rapidly transferred to the English stage and rival versions of it produced at Covent Garden, the Olympic, the St. James's, and the Adelphi, but very ineffectively. I had been despatched to Paris by Bunn to hear and report upon it. I was enchanted by Mdlle. Cinti Damoureau, but felt it would do nothing at Drury Lane given in the way it must have been there, and presenting none of those opportunities for elaborate spectacle which distinguished those Bunn delighted to transport from the Grand Opera in the Rue Lepelletier. I wrote to him my views on the subject, in which he perfectly coincided. In the meanwhile, with their usual short-sighted policy, every exertion was made by rival managers to anticipate each other, not one of them having a company capable of doing justice to the music, and the consequences were what might have been expected. Cut down to a vaudeville, the greater portion of the music omitted, and with Madame Vestris in the title rôle, it was an agreeable trifle, but not “Le Domino Noir.”

Her Majesty Queen Victoria, in those happier days of her life, was a constant visitor to the theatres, and at this period attended nearly all the farewell performances of Charles Kemble at Covent Garden, who retired from the stage, 23rd December, 1836, on his appointment to the office of “Examiner of Plays,” on the decease of Mr. George Colman. Mr. Kemble afterwards played some of his principal characters by the express desire of Her Majesty, during the first season of Madame Vestris' occupancy of the same theatre.

See note on “Le Domino Noir.”

I have already commented upon the absurd regulations respecting the performances at the minor theatres. The Adelphi and the Olympic had the Lord Chamberlain's licence for the performance of burlettas, only, by which description, after much controversy both in and out of Court, we were desired to understand dramas containing not less than five pieces of vocal music in each act, and which were also, with one or two exceptions, not to be found in the repertoire of the patent houses. But for this latter restriction not only any opera might have been played under the name of burletta, but “Macbeth,” or “The School for Scandal,” with the introduction of the prescribed number of vocal pieces.

An adaptation of “Pickwick,” by Moncrieff, was produced at the Strand Theatre, in which W. J. Hammond played Sam Weller.

An English version of Scribe and Auber's opera “L'Ambassadrice” had been recently produced with some success at the St. James's Theatre.

A new theatre had just been built in Norton Folgate for the pretty and popular Mrs. Honey, who had produced a piece there on the inexhaustible subject of Don Juan, sustaining, of course, the character of the notorious libertine.

“Sadler's Wells” and the “Pavilion” are well-known existing establishments. The “Garrick” was so called because in the second theatre on that site, which was opened by Henry Giffard, in 1732, David Garrick made his first appearance in London, Richard III., 18th of October, 1741. That theatre was pulled down in 1746, and another built on the same spot was burnt down in 1802. It may not be generally known that the late celebrated tenor, Mr. Braham, came out as a boy at the third Garrick Theatre in 1787, and was announced in the bill as Master Abrahams. The “Queen's” was the name in 1838 for the “Tottenham Street” or “West London,” now the Prince of Wales's Theatre. The “Royal Kent” was opened on Easter Monday, 1834, in High Street, Kensington. It lingered on under various managements for about six years. The Royal entrance was down a court leading out of the main thoroughfare. The “Portman” is now the “Marylebone Theatre.”

One of Charles Dance's best dramas, produced with great success in the earlier part of the season.

The curtain at the Olympic opened in the centre and did not rise and descend as in other theatres.

Mr. Stephen Price, by whom Madame Vestris and Charles Mathews had been engaged for the United States.

George Frederick Cooke, the celebrated tragedian, died in Boston, U.S. Miss Fanny Kemble married Mr. Butler, an American gentleman of considerable property, from whom she has separated. Tyrone Power, the popular Irish comedian, migrated to the States, and was unhappily lost in the “President” on his return voyage. Mr. and Mrs. Wood (Miss Paton, and subsequently Lady William Lennox) and Miss Ellen Tree, afterwards Mrs. Charles Kean, were also at that time in America.

Forrest was a celebrated American tragedian. He paid a visit to England, and played a round of characters here with moderate success. He married Miss Sinclair, daughter of the well-known vocalist of that name.

One of the Olympic pieces by Charles Dance, produced 29th September, 1837.

Another by Haynes Bayly, in which Charles Mathews was very effective. First produced 11th January, 1836.

By Buckstone, produced at the Olympic, 15th January, 1838.

By John Oxenford, produced at the Olympic, 12th March, 1838.

By Charles Dance, produced at the Olympic, 18th December, 1837.