A LOST TRAGEDIAN. (Longman's Magazine)

Waikato Times, Volume XXIV, Issue 2010, 26 May 1885, Page 4

A LOST TRAGEDIAN. (Longman 's Magazine)

No histoiy of the English speaking theaties of the nineteenth century, whether in Gieat Britain, America, or Australia, will be complete without some record of the ineteouc caieer of the illfated Gustavua Vaughan Brooke. Bom in Dublin about half a century ago, and educated at Trinity i ollege, he because stage struck while yet a boy. Obtaining an introduction to the manager of the Theatre Royal, he puisuaded that automatic peisonage to permit him to attempt William IVU, and other parts which he had seen Macready act It is needless to say that the poor tyrn failed signally. He soon emcigcd fiotn the crowd, while still a youth, was received as a boit of semi sUr in Manchester, Liverpool, and other laipe towns. Probably all the actors, and all the amatoui s calling themsehesftctois, now engaged in the various Metropolitan theaties put together could not toim three companies so efficient as the three companies at that time acting in Manchester. In going home one night I met Mr James Btowne and Mr Bany Sullivan (then leading actor at the Theatre Royal), and adjourned with them to the tavern immediately opposite the City Theatre. Our principal topic of conveisation was the arrest i»f Brooke as lie was going on the stage that night. It was his benefit, and the manager had been obliged to get him out of duiance to enable him to keep faith with the public. While we were discussing the incident, a row was heard outside, and a handsome young fellow entered the room in animated altercation with a cabman about his fare. Although I had never seen him in my life, I felt instinctively this must be Brooke. I was not left long in dcubt upon the subject, for when he came to our end of the room Sullivan intioduced us to each other, and a delightful time we had of it till we broke up about two in the moining. After this I read with interest in the newspapers of his debut as Othello at the Olympic — then under the management of Captain Spicer. There was a very bad house ;the audience were unsympathetic, not to say antagonistic, and the new actor made no headway at all until lie reached the second act. The newspapers of the day teemed with accounts of the g»llantiy of the Emir of Algeiia, Ahd'l Keller ; more particularly of an exploit in which ho had rescued a number of women and childieu fiom being roasted alive, by nding thiougli a blazing camp, sabio in hand, cutting the tent- ropes, and cairyingaway the poor creatures clinging to his saddle bow. In the quarrel scene, ao Othello came rushing down between the combatants, exclaiming, " Hold ! for your lives !" as his scymitar ■wept through the air it collided with their swords, making a fiery circle in its flight. The picturesque grandeur of the action, and the magnificence of the pose j so stiuck a fellow in the galleiy that he roared out, " Abd'l Kdder, by G— !" This exclamation touched thu keynote of sympathy ; the house rose at it, the pit sprang to its feet, the boxes swelled the general chorus of applause, aud from that moment the success of the actor was aoaured. Captain Spieer behaved most liberally : Brookes original salary was £10 a week ; but after the very first perfoirnancc it was increased to £60. At the peiiod of our intimacy his acting was, to my thinking, more distinguished by vigour than subtlety or refinement ; but there was a noble at dour and a majesty of motion about him which carried everything triumphantly before them, and which I have rarely seen equalled since. In the at ti tires of the histiionie ait he Mas pre-eminent; he "took tin stage" like a lion — mdeid, hid cveiy movement was ihythin.u' 1 , ..ml was dVtin^uished by a leoniue i>\,i c conspicuously absent in thu anjjuhii < .hides of cettain weakknerd and >• << > ! '.-jointed actois of later days. A _ j, luture wjs now before him ; tlif I) i was ,it hi 1 - foot, the game was liis ow u ; but, alas, for Lick of common pimlt'iiof, his fall was as gieat aa hi-> rise had been phenomenal. Fiom the beginning to the end of his (iipquiierl ami lomantic career he .lacked lullast, and was alway but too prone to be led astiay by the latest sycophant. Sometimes he sough* relief fiom these ignoble occupations, in rowing and boating. Oue day he rowed up the river fiom Earl's Whaif Pier to Putney and back ; a jovial dinner and skittles and other diversions followed ; then it became necessary to " put on a spurt" to got back in time lor the perfoi mance. It was his first appeal ance m town as Sir Giles Overreach. He wore a new dress that night ; the heat was overpowering, and he was in a bath of perspiration, arising piincipally from the nasty pull down the river. At the end of the Hist act he desired his dresser to "Ttrip off his singlet : the new canvas'lining of the dress was damp ; a chill struck to his lungs ; by the time he reached bis great set ne in the fifth act he was fatally and his failure was as complete in Sir Giles as Ins ti iiim^jh had been ussuied in Othello. Instead of resting prul nursing himself, he tncd to fight oft his malady with drink ; but he , got woise, collapsed utterly, and left the theatre. L'ontenipoianeous with these event", Mr Phineaa T. Barnum hid despatched one Mr Wilton Hall to Europe to .secure .Tunny Lind for a tour in America. Plating accomplished this mission to the satisfaction of his chief, Mr Uall was once more despatched to England to hunt up novelties to exploit in the States. Upon arriving in town this gentleman he ml of course (foi the Bub|eut was rife on all n.en's tongues) ot Biooke's •udden list- and tqually sudden fall ; and it occured to the astute Ametican that Gustavus was stdl a young man, that amendment wus not impossible, and that what he had d> ne before he might do again. After a month's recuperation, the tragedian and ins mentor sailed for New York, w here a series of engagements in ; -»H "the principal theaties was speedily arranged. The tour commenced far away down South ; the climate agreed with Brooke, who recovered his \oice — that is, as much as he ever did recover it ; he "struck ilo " immediately, and once more leaped into fame and fortune — the first tour alone yielding a profit of £20,000. He had left England a beggar ; after two or three years' absence lie returned a wealthy man ; he had been expelled from Drury Lane with ignominy, he returned in glory ; he had been hooted from the stage, he was now received with the loud triumph of a conqueror ; he wa« engaged for twenty-four perform aiiee* ; he gave forty-eight, to houses crowded from floor to dome. His progress through the provinces was one tiiumphal maich ; he entered every town in ;i magnifioient coach drawn by four horses and driven by two outriders in scat let ; ciowds followed him with cLceis from the hotel to the theatie, from the theatre home again, sometime* making asses of +hemselves by taking the hor»ea fiom In- ornate and taking tlwir place. Whilii in Uniiiingham, the [Jon. George Coppm, th. I iiiinus Austialian comedian, manager, and M.P., saw Brooke act, and engaged him then and there for two yean in Anstiaha and New Zealand at £100 a night paying all expenses beside*. This engagement also was n tiiumphal success, and at the end of two years Gustavus was rolling in wealth. At this period he might have retired with fotty or fifty thousand pounds, but in an evil moment he was induced to enter into partnership with Ooppin in the management of the Theatre Royal, Melbourne, and of a great public pleasuie-garden called the Melbourne Cremorne. The moment he went into management his luck began to turn ; he had no knowledge whatever of finance, and failure followed failuie. When he arrived in the colony he was received as if he had been a member of the Royal family ; deputations came on board to meet him ; when Inlanded there were crowds, carriages and horßes, bands of music, and triumphal arches to accentuate his welcome ; when he left, he slunk aboard at dead of night, like a thief, and lay hidden behind the smoke stack of the London till she quitted the harbour ; when he left England ho

was a man of fortune : when he returned af ter an absenco of seven years, he was penniless ! Dining Ins absence taste had undeigono a stmnge transmutation in the old country, and Charles Fechter was the fashionable idol of the hour ; the ciiticasteis had declared that he was the apo&tle of the future, that he Jnd taught us how Shnkespeare should be acted (with a Ficnch acCiiit), that all English art was common place, old-fashioned, vulgar, and, indeed, defunct. When he went into tho eountiy the bad news had preceded him, and he failed neaily everywhere. Coppm reengaged him for Austialia, and went on in advance to sound the note of pieparation. His sister, who through life had hi en his guardian angel, accompanied him to Australia. The sailed from Giavesend in the London, the very vessel which had brought him home. Strange to hay. however, I encounteied in tho very Mnn< heater where wo had fiiat met, a sailor — one of the survivois of that illfated expedition — who told me that poor " Gus" had endeared himself to everybody on boaid by his modesty and manliness. His sister was lying below, sick and helpless. At the last moment, when the men who escaped took to the boats, they urged him to accompany them ; but he put them gently aside and said, "No, thanks ; you are veiy good, lads, but I can't leave her." As they were moving away he said, "When yon get to Melbourne, remember me to the boys." For answer they gave a parting cheer. As they pulled off they saw him leaning over the rails, his bare feet paddling in the rising wateis, a sad, sweet smile upon his face, his wistful eye fixed upon them till the ship faded out of sight, and darkness fell upon the deep. The picture of the poor player standing alone is almost too awful to contemplate. Was he recalling his lost youth, his wasted manhood, or was he di earning of the young wife whom he had left behind, and who died ho soon after of a bioken heart? Did he see some phantom audience rising before him as the doomed ship sank beneath the wild waves that sounded his requiem ; or had his simple faith, in«that supreme moment, found shelter in the blessed lupc that lifts the sinner's soul to Heaven ? Let us hope so. John C'olkman.