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 MR, PHELPS AS WOLSEY. 
 
 Fai-ewcll! a long fareivell to all my grcat7tess ! " 
 
 From the original life-sized portrait, by Johnston Forbes- Robertson, by kind permission of the Garrick Club.
 
 THE LIFE AND LIFE-WOKK 
 
 OF 
 
 SAMUEL PHELPS 
 
 BY HIS NEPHEW 
 
 W. MAY PHELPS 
 
 AND 
 
 JOHN FORBES-ROBERTSON 
 
 WITH 
 
 ^Ijr^c Jlortrnifs 
 
 AND 
 COPIES OF LETTERS FROM MEN OF EMINENCE 
 AND OTHER ORIGINAL DOCUMENTS OF INTEREST TO TLAY-GOERS 
 
 ' J J > » i ' > < 
 
 LONDON 
 SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEARLE, & RIVINGTON 
 
 CROWN BUILDINGS, FLEET STREET 
 
 188G 
 
 \AU Rir/hls reserved]
 
 Richard Clay & Sons, 
 
 bread street hill, london, 
 
 Bunguy, Suffolk. 
 
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 OF ONE WHO SPENT A LIFE-TIME 
 
 IN ENDEAVOURING TO MAKE THEM ACQUAINTED WITH 
 CD 
 O THE WORKS OF 
 
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 >- IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED BY THEIR SERVANTS 
 
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 2488i:0
 
 PEEFACE. 
 
 * 
 
 On the death of Samuel Phelps, it was understood by the 
 family that his nephew and the writer of these lines should 
 attempt to set forth his life and labours. 
 
 Joint efforts of the kind are not always crowned with success, 
 and possibly this will be added to the category. But the intimate 
 relations long subsisting between Mr. May Phelps and his dis- 
 tinguished uncle, and the more than ordinary interest shared 
 by his coadjutor in all things dramatic, and especially in the 
 career of Mr. Phelps, ever since he became lessee of Sadler's 
 Wells, led both writers to hope that their combined endeavours 
 to illustrate, by the present memoir, a most important period 
 in the history of the English Stage, would not be altogether 
 unwelcome to the lovers of the acteji drama. 
 
 For the great mass of facts and dates my fellow-worker must 
 have all the credit, and for their setting forth I am mainlv 
 responsible. 
 
 At the same time, I take this opportunity of stating, that, 
 without the enthusiastic and unremitting labours of Mr. May 
 Phelps, this book had never been Avritten. My proper function 
 would, perhaps, be better expressed by the word " editor." 
 
 For permission to use the various letters inserted in this 
 work our best thanks are due to Mrs. Macready, widow of the 
 tragedian, Jonathan Macready, Esq., F.R.C.S., and Sir Frederick 
 Pollock, Bart., Representatives of William Charles Macready ; 
 to Miss Hogarth, Executrix of Charles Dickens ; to the Hon. 
 Mr. Justice Chitty, and the Right Hon. the Earl of Lytton, 
 Executors of Jolm Forster ; to the Ridit Hon. the Earl of
 
 viii PREFACE. 
 
 Lytton, Executor of bis father, Lord Lytton ; and to James 
 Logan White, Esq., Executor of the Rev. James White. 
 
 If the judgments and opinions, which we have now and then 
 ventured to give, appear to embody rather too much of the 
 besetting sin of biographers, they have not been arrived at 
 without the careful weighing and comparing of our various 
 experiences and impressions. 
 
 The many Press notices inserted in the work will, doubtless, 
 be regarded by some as padding ; but as it was part of our 
 scheme to give the full body and pressure of the time in respect 
 of dramatic criticism, and especially as we regard most of the 
 utterances as part and parcel of the current literature of the 
 period, which, but for this conservation, would have been, in a 
 manner, lost to the world, we thought it better to let such 
 eminent masters of their craft as John Oxenford, F. G. Tomlins, 
 John A. Heraud, Douglas Jerrold, Stirling Coyne, E. L. Blan- 
 chard, Bayle Bernard, and Professor Morley speak out of the 
 abundance of their knowledge and experience. Their testimony 
 is all the more important as Mr. Phelps was never known to 
 court the Press in any way. 
 
 But apart from any literary character they may possibly claim, 
 these notices throw much incidental light on the customs and 
 conditions of the then theatrical world, and reveal thereby 
 touches of local colourinsf which the future historian of the 
 British Stage will know how to appreciate. 
 
 Mr. Phelps entered the scenic arena at a time of painful, and 
 almost humiliating, transition, and hesitated not to take up the 
 gage against the meretricious tendency of the times, and against 
 every phase, both before and behind the curtain, of theatrical 
 folly and vice. 
 
 Other names are honourably associated with the like lofty 
 purpose ; but it was not given either to Mr. Macready or Mr. 
 Charles Kean to carry out their designs to so practical and 
 abiding a result, from the simple circumstance that their reign, 
 as managers, was comparatively brief. 
 
 i
 
 PREFACE. ix 
 
 Let no one who has not seen him at his best — from 1840 
 to 1862 — and we have no right to judge any man but by 
 his best — say that we have exaggerated either the services or 
 the merits of Samuel Phelps. Only those who are keenly gifted 
 with the dramatic sense, and have made the rational amusement 
 of the people the devoted study of years, can adequately 
 appreciate the arduousness of the former, and the wonderful 
 variety and surpassing excellence of the latter. 
 
 That he did much for the intellectual pleasure and eleva- 
 tion of those of his dav and sfeneration none can doubt ; and 
 more will assuredly be accomplished when tlie State ceases to 
 vex, if not disgrace, the age by allowing such services to go un- 
 recognized and unhonoured; and especially when the Church, 
 following the lead of the more catholic-souled of lier prelates,* 
 enters into active alliance with such men as Samuel Pheljjs. 
 
 It is unnecessary to speak here of the solicitude of the antique 
 world for everything aifecting the interests of the drama, whose 
 written survivals still constitute, as it were, a field sacred to 
 Apollo, whereon the learned of all lands hold tourney, when 
 they would prove their claims to the laurels of classic scholar- 
 ship. A like honour by nations yet unborn, we may rest well 
 assured, awaits Shakespeare and his fellows. But, without 
 forestalling the future, or harking back to the distant past, we 
 have examples nearer our own time of intelligent appreciation 
 of the drama's great educational value. 
 
 The MediiBval Church had a practical understanding of all 
 this, whether the abbeys and minsters scattered over England, 
 and with which it is still glorified, be monuments of the fervid 
 piety and free-will offerings of the people, or only of the 
 exactions of those in power, jealous for God's glory, and not, 
 perhaps, unmindful of their own. The religious world of to-day 
 would have a beneficent knowledge of it, too, were it not for 
 the lingering dregs of that Puritanic fever which afflicted the 
 land in the seventeenth century, and whose recurrence, in a 
 * See Arclibisliop Tuit's remarks on this subject at p. 14.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 more or less aggravated form, can never be regarded as altogether 
 beyond the bounds of possibiHty, so long as popular emotion, 
 when divorced from common-sense, is apt to expend itself in 
 periodic fits of destructive insanity. 
 
 We must not forget, however, though at the risk of repeating 
 what is familiar and trite, that all men, movements, and manias 
 have their mission; and that even the "righteous over-much," 
 or, as another inspired writer calls them, " the unco guid," have 
 something to say — or piously believe they have — for the uncon- 
 scionable presumption of those "rebukes," with which they so 
 persistently arrest and smother the natural, God-given, joy of the 
 human heart. 
 
 When the two great institutions, then, — the Church and the 
 Stage, — whose united function it is to lift us into the hiofher and 
 cheerier life, are at one, and the ministry of the priest is as 
 earnest as that of the player, and the latter, as well as the 
 former, receives from the State his due meed of countenance 
 and honour, — then, and only then, may we hope to see light 
 in dark places, and a worthy crowning to national education, 
 whether the studies of our youth have been necessarily confined 
 to the Board-school, or have happily been pursued under the 
 fosterinof care of an Alma mater. 
 
 All the strengthening hopes and possibilities just indicated, 
 and which will one day become to the peoi^le grateful actu- 
 alities, were ever present to the mind of our master. 
 
 As a manas^er and actor, determined to give of his best 
 to the public, and put into his work his whole heart and 
 soul and strength, Samuel Phelps was. without fear; and, as 
 a man, without reproach. In every relation of life he was 
 tender, dignified, and righteous ; and in what pertained to 
 the traditions and glory of the English stage, he was the 
 last of all the Romans. 
 
 JOHN FORBES-EOBERTSON. 
 
 25, Charlotte Street, Bloomsbury, 
 25th June, 1886.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Preface ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... vii 
 
 Introduction ... ... ... ... ... ... 1 
 
 From His Birth to the Opening of Sadler's Wells ... 32 
 
 His Career at the Theatre Eoyal, Sadler's Wells... 64 
 
 Closing Years of His Career ... ... ... ... 289 
 
 Letters ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 355 
 
 Miscellaneous Play-Bills from 1814 — 1868 ... ... 404 
 
 Appendix ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 425 
 
 Index 428 
 
 POETEAITS. 
 
 jMr. Phelps as Cardinal Wolsey, from the Painting in 
 
 possession of the Garrick Club ... ... Froniisjnece 
 
 ]\rR. Phelps in 1854 ... ... ... Fadnrj i)age \2^ 
 
 Mr. Phelps as Brutus ... ... ... „ ,,210
 
 LIFE AND LIFE-WORK 
 
 OF 
 
 SAMUEL PHELPS. 
 
 INTRODUCTION.. 
 
 Samuel Phelps inherited the instincts of a gentleman, and 
 throughout the whole of his career he never forgot that he was 
 one. He was, therefore, of good family, and, though not what 
 is called college -bred, of good education. He was a doting 
 husband and father and a fast friend. Exceedingly fond of 
 children, he Avould often take an infant out of the arms of any 
 nurse he micrht meet in his walks and kiss it. 
 
 Attached to his home, he would rather dine with his family 
 on plain fare than sit down to a banquet without them. Not 
 that he by any means despised good things ; for, when they 
 came in his way, nothing pleased him more than having a few 
 friends round his table to share them with him. 
 
 He had a great liking for gardening and even agriculture, 
 and, had he been able to retire early in life, he would have 
 made a good country gentleman. At Chelsea, where he resided 
 from 1840 to 1844, he had a large piece of ground attached to 
 his house, where he grew some beautiful specimens of choice 
 flowers and plants, giving them his own personal attention. 
 He was as pleased with his achievements in this way as he was 
 with his success on the stac^e. 
 
 His gardener for the greater part of this period was an
 
 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 Irishman, who had held the same position at WiUiam Cobbett's 
 some years before, and was mightily proud of both his masters, 
 as he told one of the present writers. 
 
 The Lion Hotel, Farningham, Kent, was his principal resi- 
 dence when fishing or shooting. He spent more time in that 
 county than in any other part of the kingdom, and he was 
 known to all the farmers round about. He took crreat interest 
 in all that pertained to their welfare, and even went so far out 
 of his usual custom as to take the chair at some of their club 
 dinners, when held at this house. They had no idea who he 
 was, and simply regarded him as a sportsman, who liked to mix 
 in their society. 
 
 E. L. Blanchard, in an obituary notice of him at the end of 
 the book, tells an anecdote of one of them discoverinsf him, to 
 his great astonishment, as the Doge of Venice, when he brought 
 his family up to see that piece at Drury Lane Theatre in 1867. 
 Mr. Phelps had no wish ever to be lionized, and no doubt 
 told the proprietor of the Lion Hotel of his desire to remain 
 incognito. 
 
 To his profession he brought immense perseverance. He 
 was a great reader, and, .although not a classical scholar, he 
 was familiar throuorh translations with all the gjreat minds of 
 the antique world, and he remained a student in every sense 
 of the word almost to the day of his death. 
 
 As an actor we place him second to none. In Tragedy he 
 combined many of the best characteristics of John Kemble 
 and Edmund Kean. He had much of the dignity, breadth, and 
 intensity of the former as well as the fire and impulsive energy 
 of the latter. 
 
 He Avas endowed with a good figure, standing five feet nine 
 inches when he first appeared in London. His face was 
 generously modelled, and possessed expressive features with 
 a fair-sized grey eye. He had a magnificent natural voice, 
 whose compass embraced every shade of emotion. 
 
 It need not be argued whether his Penruddock was equal 
 to John Kemble's, his Sir Giles Overreach to Edmund Kean's, 
 or his Werner to Macready's ; but this may unhesitatingly be 
 said, that he played all three characters very finely, a feat which 
 not one of the three actors named could have accomplished.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 In Comedy lie acted with great success many of the best 
 characters of the elder Farren, such as Lord Ogleby, Sir Peter 
 Teazle, and Nicholas Flam ; of Dowton, such as Old Dornton, 
 Job Thornbury, and Dr. Cantwell ; of EUiston and Charles 
 Kemble, such as Leon, Don Felix, Mercutio, Lord Townley, and 
 Mr. Oakley ; of Listen, Bottom the Weaver ; of Wrench, Gold- 
 finch ; of Charles Matthews, Young Rapid, Sponge, Jeremiah 
 Bumps, &c. 
 
 Even in Comedy, therefore, he played a larger range of 
 characters than any other actor of this century ; and, take him 
 all round, a much wider one than Garrick or Henderson in the 
 last. 
 
 Many admirers of Macready have stated that Phelps founded 
 his tragic style on his great predecessor ; and one paper said 
 that, " while he showed great hre and pathos, he possessed less 
 subtlety than Macready, and never rose to the height of his 
 nobler impulses, or those supreme bursts of emotion with which 
 he could, upon occasion, electrify and excite his audience in an 
 extraordinary degree." 
 
 In several of the obituary notices of his career, it was alleged 
 that it was early found out that his great forte in acting lay in 
 Comedy ; but it will presently appear how much those writers 
 were in error. 
 
 His fame was made during the first seven years of his manage- 
 ment of Sadler's Wells Theatre ; and during that period, with 
 the exception of Sir John Falstaff, he played only a few Comedy 
 parts, and those only for a few nights ; whereas he acted for 
 considerably over one thousand nights all the leading tragic 
 characters familiar to play-goers. These included the principal 
 personations of John Kemble, Edmund Kean, and Macready. 
 
 The bill for every evening's performance is in possession of 
 his nephew, so there can be no doubt as to the correctness 
 of the assertion that his first great success was in Tragedy. 
 He was then looked upon by many play-goers as Macready's 
 rival, and, upon the retirement of the latter, as his legitimate 
 successor. This could only have been as a tragic actor, as 
 Macready never appeared in any real Comedy character, with 
 the exception of Benedick, after 1837. No: it was not till 
 after his fame and position had been fairly established that 
 
 B 2
 
 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 he began to play the Comedy characters in which he afterwards 
 so eclipsed all who had gone before him. 
 
 It may be further stated as a fact that, so far as the public 
 were concerned, much as they might have admired and enjoyed 
 his comic acting, they certainly, by their attendance, showed 
 that they esteemed him most in Tragedy. As a rule, founded 
 on close observation and on statistics, gathered from time to 
 time, they came only in the proportion of three to four when he 
 appeared in Comedy. This refers more especially to Sadler's 
 Wells Theatre and the seven years immediately succeeding, 
 during which he was at Drury Lane. 
 
 All that need be said as to Phelps taking Macready as a model 
 in Tragedy is simply this, that Phelps's style and manner were 
 completely formed and publicly recognized and acknowledged 
 before ever he came to London at all. He never saw Macready 
 act from the front of the house but once in his life ; and he 
 was too angry at his treatment of liitn during the first four years 
 he was in London to think anything about him or his acting. 
 He laughed at the idea himself, when questioned upon the 
 j^oint by the present writers, and when asked why he did not 
 publicly den}^ it, he said it was not worth his while to deny 
 what he thought must be patent to all those who saw much of 
 him.* He added that his style was his own, Avhether it was 
 good, bad, or indifferent, and that he never saw any of his great 
 predecessors after he was old enough to form any opinion of 
 them. To us, in the great majority of his tragic characters, he 
 ^\'as as different to Macready as it was possible to be in the case 
 of two men otherwise so equally matched. 
 
 In a few parts, however, such as King John, Werner, and 
 Prospero, and possibly in some others, they were naturally 
 something like each other. But in Shakespeare's four greatest 
 characters, viz. Macbeth, King Lear, Hamlet, and Othello, they 
 were wholly unlike ; and, while he played some scenes better 
 than Macready, Macready, again, had the advantage in others ; 
 and yet in all these four impersonations surpassing excellence 
 was the characteristic of both. 
 
 With reference to the passage already quoted, in which the 
 
 * By saying this, however, lie did not intend us for one moment to infer 
 that he was speaking disparagingly of Macready's style or powers.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 writer, after complimenting Phelps on his great fire and pathos, 
 says that he never rose to the height of Macready's nobler 
 impulses, or those supreme bursts of emotion with which he 
 could, upon occasion, electrify and excite his audience in an 
 extraordinary degree, we have simply to say that, from personal 
 observation of the methods of both during many years of their 
 prime, our judgment tends the other way; and we allege unhesi- 
 tatingly, that the electrifying bursts of Phelps were decidedly 
 more numerous than those of Macready. 
 
 It would be idle to institute a comparison between these two 
 actors and the players of former times ; and yet, from a careful 
 perusal and weighing of what has come down to us, we are 
 forced to the conclusion that neither Burbage nor Bettertou, 
 Garrick nor Henderson, could, even by a stretch of the imagin- 
 ation, have surpassed Macready or Pheli^s in the perfect embodi- 
 ment of those marvellous creations of the great master. 
 
 He married very early in life. He was just over twenty-two, 
 while his wife was only sixteen. She was a daughter of a friend 
 of the lady in whose house he was a boarder. The wedding, 
 although it was known they were engaged, took place without 
 the privity of the mother, who was a widow : first, because she 
 might reasonably plead for a little delay, and secondly, on the 
 very characteristic ground that they wished the whole affair to 
 pass off as quietly as possible. Moreover, he was on the eve of 
 his departure for the North to commence his career as an actor. 
 
 The marriage was in every way a happy one. Never were 
 a couple more mutually devoted to each other. She anticipated 
 his every wish; and when, in 18G7, she finally left him after 
 seven years' intense suffering from a cancer in the breast, of 
 which disease her own mother and only sister died, he was so 
 cast down that his famil}^ thought he would never rally again. 
 Indeed he never was the same man afterwards. On the morn- 
 ing after her departure he told his nephew that he had lived 
 through twenty deaths during the previous seven years. 
 
 Of the marriage there were six children, three sons and 
 three daughters. The eldest son, William Robert, was a bar- 
 rister, and was on the Parliamentary staff of the Times for a 
 considerable period, and left it, on the recommendation of its 
 cliief, to take the prime position on a Manchester paper then
 
 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 cuinmencing Parliamentary rejiorting. Some years afterwards 
 lie was appointed Chief Justice, and Judge of the Admiralty 
 Court, at St. Helena. • This- post he held between three and 
 four years, and died three months after his mother. 
 
 The second son, Edmund, followed in his father's footsteps, 
 and bade fair to have added fresh lustre to the name ; but his 
 career was cut short very suddenly at Edinburgh, where he died 
 (2nd April, 1870), leaving a widow and three children. 
 
 The eldest daughter, Eleanor Cooper, survived her father only 
 three and a half years, dying unmarried. The second daughter, 
 Sarah, became the wife of the youngest son of Alderman Goodair 
 of Preston, Lancashire, chief of the firm of John Goodair and 
 Co., extensive cotton-spinners and manufacturers in Preston 
 and Manchester. Of this firm Mr. Phelps's son-in-law is now 
 the head, and the commanding officer of the Preston Vokmteers. 
 His wife died in 1874, leaving two sons and a daughter. 
 
 Mr. Phelps's youngest son and daughter are still alive. The 
 latter, after the death of her mother, became her father's right 
 hand, waited upon him, and nursed him day and night till his 
 death. 
 
 His career may be divided into the following periods. He 
 was about sixteen when he was first smitten with the passion 
 to be a player. For six years he was content with being an 
 amateur ; he then spent eleven years as a professional actor in 
 the provinces, and afterwards seven years at the Haymarket, 
 Covent Garden, the Lyceum, the Surrey, Drury Lane, and the 
 provinces. Then came his eighteen or nineteen years at 
 Sadler's Wells, playing, between his OAvn seasons, at the Surrey, 
 the Standard, and Princess's in London, and at Edinburgh, 
 Dublin, Manchester, Liverpool, Glasgow, Newcastle, and Bir- 
 mingham. Then seven seasons at Drury Lane, and in the 
 provinces during the summer. 
 
 After that, for seven or eight years, until within a few months 
 of his death, he acted at the j)rincipal provincial theatres just 
 mentioned, and at the Princess's, the Queen's, Astley's, the 
 Gaiety, and the Aquarium in London. 
 
 During his management of Sadler's Wells Mr. Buckstone made 
 several overtures to him to appear at the Haymarket during the 
 summer months ; but, from one circumstance or another, nothing
 
 INTRODUCTIOX. 
 
 came of them. He was either already under engagement, or 
 wanted entire rest. 
 
 It need not be said that his great life-work was the manage- 
 ment of that theatre, where he produced the whole of Shake- 
 speare's jDlays, wi»th the exception of Henry VI., Troilus and 
 Cressida, Titus Andronicus, and Richard II. He often talked 
 of doinof the last-named as well as the second ; but the intention 
 was never carried out. It was the same with some plays of 
 Ford's and others of the Elizabethan poets. 
 
 He also talked frequently of acting Dogberry, Autolycus, 
 Caliban, Touchstone, and other Comedy characters ; but this 
 idea also fell through. 
 
 Of the two thousand and odd new plays sent to him during his 
 career, very few seemed worth much in his eyes. He could 
 never get any one to write a play with Cromwell as the principal 
 character (and he tried many) that at all approached what he 
 considered it should be. His great wish was to personate Oliver 
 Cromwell as the Patriot, the Father, and the Soldier. 
 
 In 18i6 he purchased from Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton a new 
 five-act play, written on the plan of the old Greek Tragedies, 
 with chorus, entitled ffidipus, and with new and original music 
 composed expressly for it by Mercadante. Bulwer wanted him 
 to produce it at Sadler's Wells, but this was impossible. The 
 low prices of admission, even if the house had been full every 
 night of the expected run, could not possibly have covered the 
 cost of the play, the music, and the nightly expenses for the 
 chorus singers; and, as Mr. Phelps rightly said, he could not 
 raise the prices, even for a new play of Bulwer's, above those for 
 which he had produced Shakespeare. 
 
 He therefore made up his mind to produce it at the St. 
 James's Theatre during the London season. He accordingly 
 entered into negotiations for that house, and the music had 
 nearly been completed, when he found, to his dismay, that at 
 that period of the year all the chorus singers worth having 
 were under engagement. 
 
 What was to be done he knew not, and several rather 
 unpleasant letters passed between him and the author. The 
 latter, however, when Mr. Phelps plainly showed him it would 
 entail a loss on him of from fifteen hundred to two thousand
 
 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 pounds, if he insisted on holding him to his bargain, very 
 generously gave way and took the play back, leaving him 
 only with such loss as might accrue through the engagement 
 with Signer Mercadante, who ultimately agreed to a fiiendly 
 compromise. 
 
 About 1854 Mr. Phelps renewed his endeavours to get a play 
 of Sir Edward's ; but for certain circumstances, unnecessary to 
 be named here, the author at that time declined to renew his 
 connection with the stage by producing anything new. 
 
 On going to Drury Lane in 1864, he again made overtures to 
 Sir Edward to produce the ffidipus at that theatre ; but he 
 declined then himself to risk its production. In a very compli- 
 mentary letter, however, which will be found at the end of this 
 volume, Sir Edward offered to write him a new play if he could 
 suggest a subject, with plot, &c. ; but Mr. Phelps was at this 
 time too preoccupied with other work. Nothing ultimately 
 came of this ; but he acted Bulwer's Richelieu, Claude Melnotte, 
 and Evelyn a far greater number of nights than did Macready, 
 their original delineator. 
 
 During the greater part of his time at Sadler's Wells, he had 
 one of the best working companies a manager could reasonably 
 hope to possess. As Leaders when he did not appear himself, 
 and as Seconds when he did, he had sometimes together in 
 the same play, and at others singly, George Bennett, who first 
 appeared in London in 1822, and Henry Marston, who made his 
 d^hut in 1839. As First Old Men he had, at different periods, 
 Anthony Younge, Ray, and Barrett; as Light Comedians, 
 Hudson, Hoskins, and Belford ; as Ics Jeuncs Frcmiers, G. K, 
 Dickinson, Frederick Robinson, Wybert Rousby, Edmund Phelps, 
 and Hermann Vezin. His Low Comedians were, Scharf, H. 
 Nye, Frederick Younge, and Lewis Ball. His Second Low 
 Comedian all the time was Charles Fenton ; and his Second Old 
 Man all the time was Williams. As Walking Gentlemen he 
 had John Webster, Morton, Wheatleigh, and Haywell ; as Heavy 
 Fathers, H. Lacy, H. Mellon, Lunt, and Alfred Rayner. He 
 Avas fortunate also in having for his Utility Men, Graham, T. C. 
 Harris, John Wilkins (author of Civihzation), Lickfold, Dolman, 
 C. Seyton, Chapman, Knight, and Meagreson. The present 
 Mr. Righton was for some time the Prompter's Boy, and during
 
 IXTRODUCTIOK 
 
 the latter portion of his time played such parts as the Page to 
 Sir John Falstaff, Prince Henry in King John, &c., &c. 
 
 As leading Tragediennes there were in succession, Mrs. Warner, 
 Miss Laura Addison, Miss Glyn (then Mrs. Wills, and afterwards 
 Mrs. Dallas), iliss Goddard, and Miss Atkinson ; and in Tragedy 
 and Comedy alike, Mrs. Charles Young, afterwards Mrs. Hermann 
 Vezin. 
 
 Miss Cooper and Miss Fitzpatrick were the leading Comic 
 actresses. The First Old Woman was Mrs. Henry Marston, the 
 legitimate successor of Mrs. Glover ; and, as Second Old Woman, 
 Mrs. Archbold. Mrs. Ternan, formerly Miss Jarman, of some 
 celebrity years before as a juvenile actress at Drury Lane, was 
 also of the company. 
 
 For Souhrcttcs he had Miss Le Batt, Miss Travers, Miss Rafter, 
 and Miss Hudspeth, afterwards Mrs. Edmund Phelps. 
 
 Miss Julia St. George was his Ariel in the Tempest. 
 
 To commence his third season overtures were made to both 
 Mr. Vandenhoff and Mr. Wallack ; but as both gentlemen 
 wanted to have their names placed at the top of the bills, 
 nothing came of it. His own was not placed there as an actor, 
 but simply as manager. 
 
 Mr. Creswick was then communicated with, and he made 
 no such demand, although it was to be his real cUlmt. He 
 was enjTafjed till Christmas. After that, an unfortunate mis- 
 understanding having arisen between him and Mr. Greenwood, 
 the acting manager, he seceded from the theatre, but continued 
 on friendly terms with Mr. Phelps for many years afterwards. 
 Indeed, the latter frequently acted at the Surrey Theatre during 
 the period of Mr. Creswick's management. 
 
 ]\rr. Phelps had the principal members of his company twice 
 to dine with him durin^^ his manag-ement, and on each occasion 
 he had, to meet them, his family medical man, the late Thomas 
 Girtin of Canonbury, a warm lover of the drama, and an intense 
 admirer of Mr. Phelps. Mr. Girtin was the only chilil of 
 Thomas Girtin, the famous water-colour painter, friend and 
 contemporary of Turner. 
 
 His aim as a manager was to conduct his theatre on the 
 highest moral principles both before and bcliind the curtain ; 
 and it may be asserted without hesitation, that he succeeded in
 
 10 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 the highest degree. How the educational, the emotional, and 
 the intellectual were happily blended in the performances at 
 Sadler's Wells will be best seen in the various criticisms scattered 
 through this volume. 
 
 He was a great pedestrian, and never rode until very late 
 in life. He would frequently start from his house in Canon- 
 bury Square, up the Holloway Road and Highgate Hill, to the 
 village of Highgate, thence to the Broad Walk on Hampstead 
 Heath, and back to his residence before dinner, when he had 
 no rehearsals on. His rate of walking was never less than at 
 the rate of five miles an hour. This he did to keep his fat 
 down, he said ; for he was inclined to corpulency, like several 
 of the male members of his family. By this means he kept 
 himself pretty nearly all his life between eleven and twelve 
 stone in weight. 
 
 He dined at 2.30, especially when acting ; and after dinner 
 he took a nap on the couch from 4 to 5, and then a couple of 
 cups of tea and a cigar. All the liquid he took during the 
 evening, when acting, was a little barley water now and then, 
 just to moisten his mouth. 
 
 He was never at home to any but the most intimate friends, 
 except by appointment, and it was more than the housemaid's 
 situation was worth to admit a stranger between the hours of 
 2 and 5 p.m. 
 
 He spent a great deal of his spare time fishing and shooting. 
 He was a deft thrower of the fly, and knew nearly every trout 
 stream in England. Nor was he less successful with the gun, 
 and rarely missed being out on the first day of partridge and 
 pheasant shooting for thirty-five years. 
 
 He never went out of his own country till the year 1859, 
 when he took his company to Berlin. He was well received 
 by the Germans, and highly spoken of by many of them. The 
 press said he was equal to their own Iffland and Ludwig 
 Devrient, and private individuals said their superior.* 
 
 In their criticisms they placed his acting of Shakespeare's 
 four greatest characters in the following order of merit — Lear, 
 
 * After his first performance of Lear, several of the critics as well as 
 several German actors almost smothered him with their embraces — they 
 were so delighted with his performance. — W. M. P.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 11 
 
 Macbeth, Hamlet, and Othello. At Berlin he was patronized 
 nightly by the King and Queen, and their son and daughter 
 the Crown Prince and Princess, — the latter our own Princess 
 Royal. After having gone from Berlin to Leipzig and Dresden, 
 he acted at Hamburg on his way home. 
 
 As a money speculation it was not a failure by any means ; 
 neither was it much of a success ; for he was then, as at all 
 times, a bad hand at making a bargain. When he agreed to 
 share, which he did at first, the recei]3ts were small ; and after- 
 wards, Avhen he was content to receive a certain sum, they rose. 
 This was frequently the case also at home, unless he had some 
 one acting on his behalf in the front of the house. 
 
 He never went to America, although frequently on the point 
 of concluding an engagement to do so. He was often assured 
 bv Americans that he could ero throus^h the States with five of 
 his characters, and make suificient to have retired on. But his 
 early friend Mrs. Warner's description of her tour in 1851 was 
 the main cause of his never attempting it. Besides, he had an 
 objection to being absent from London so long, and she, know- 
 ing his temperament well, declared it would have worried him 
 out of his life. Mr. Frederick Robinson, his later friend, on the 
 other hand, who has been there now some twenty years and 
 more, has said he was sure, had Mr. Phelps gone between the 
 years 1860 and 1870, that both he and his acting would have 
 been so thoroughly appreciated that he would have enjoyed the 
 tour rather than otherwise. 
 
 There was a talk of his going to Paris during the first Inter- 
 national Exhibition there in 1855. Mr. Mitchell and he were in 
 communication with each other on the subject; but the project 
 fell through chiefly from his disinclination to buckle on his 
 armour. 
 
 In 1875 he went for a tour through France, Switzerland, and 
 Italy with his two daughters. He was almost forced into this by 
 Mr. Arthur Cecil and a few other friends, especially by one, who 
 told him he had had his nerves thoroughly braced up by a stay on 
 the Righi. Mr. Phelps spoke very highly of what he saw at Genoa 
 and elsewhere. He enjoyed greatly his stay on the mountain, 
 and came back all the better for it. He had been suffering for 
 some time from intense nervousness prior to leaving home ; but
 
 12 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 his five or six months' sojourn on the Continent quite set 
 him up. 
 
 His popularity was very great, and he never came on the 
 stage without receiving a perfectly spontaneous and prolonged 
 round of applause, and on leaving the theatre there was always 
 a crowd waitinf^ at the stage door to salute him as he entered 
 his carriage. He generally crammed the house whenever he 
 appeared in any London theatre, and this, too, for something 
 like thirty years. He never, moreover, left London for an entire 
 season from his first appearance in 1837 till his death in 1878. 
 
 As a manager and producer of plays, he undoubtedly followed 
 in the footsteps of Mr. Macready ; but the latter worked in that 
 capacity for only four years in what might be termed his own 
 theatre, whereas Mr. Phelps did so for nearly nineteen. 
 
 Mr. Macready restored the great poet's text in many of his 
 productions ; but Mr. Phelps went beyond him even in the same 
 plays, and produced others from the original text which Mr. 
 Macready never attempted. 
 
 It was, in our opinion, a misfortune that he did not take the 
 Lyceum Theatre as soon as it became vacant after he began at 
 Sadler's Wells. It was and is the Icau ideal of what a theatre 
 should be in respect of size, and it is generally understood to be of 
 similar dimensions with those of Drury Lane in Garrick's time. 
 
 He thought, however, that it had always been an unlucky 
 house, and would not therefore think of it, preferring to stand 
 by Old Sadler's Wells. One thing in favour of the latter was 
 that the rent was not more than a third of the former, and being 
 an excessively nervous man, where money was concerned, he 
 would not venture on so grave a speculation. 
 
 The old theatre has always been spoken of by writers in the 
 press as the Little Theatre, and certainly it looked small to 
 one seated in the dress circle ; but the so-called little theatre 
 held as large an audience as any theatre in London, except 
 Covent Garden and Drury Lane. Between eleven and twelve 
 hundred persons have paid for admission into the gallery, a 
 similar number into the pit, and between five and six hundred 
 to the boxes, dress circle, and private boxes, so that very little 
 short of three thousand persons have been in " the little house" 
 at one time. So much for numbers.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 1.3 
 
 As regards the quality of the frequenters of Sadler's Wells, 
 they were, in the first place, all real play-goers, and came from 
 the north and the south, from the east and from the west. It 
 would consequently be very erroneous to talk of the audiences 
 being for the most part local. 
 
 Secondly, as regards the pit and gallery, they were, as a rule, 
 in the latter as respectable as that of any theatre in London. 
 In respect of the former, except on the first nights of pieces, and 
 on Saturdays, when there was generally an overflow of the gallery 
 peoj)le into the pit, the habitues of that part of the house were 
 of a more intellectual stamp than would be found in most 
 theatres, and were largely composed of the well-educated young 
 City men. 
 
 Thirdly, the remainder of the house frequently contained the 
 aristocracy of every grade, except that of birth ; and even this 
 last-named class was not without occasional representatives to 
 maintain its reputation for mental vigour, and show its appre- 
 ciation of intellectual pleasure. These facts were all carefully 
 ascertained at the time by one of the present 'wi'iters, and may 
 be implicitly relied on. 
 
 The stage of the little liouse could, upon occasion, be made 
 as deep as that of Drury Lane, and its width also could be 
 materially increased when required. It will thus be seen its 
 good qualities were not confined to its being low rented. 
 
 After Mr. Phelps went to Drury Lane, some critics, and 
 amongst them some of his warmest admirers, said they thought 
 his delivery had become so measured and slow as to mar many 
 of his finest performances, and attributed it, some to one thing, 
 some to another, but none of them hit the mark. 
 
 What modicum of truth lay in this criticism we are not 
 prepared to deny, but we account for his more measured elocu- 
 tion in this way. More than one half of the audience in the 
 pit at Sadler's Wells sat under the boxes, and as Mr. Phelps 
 was determined every one, even to the farthest wall, should 
 hear distinctly every word he uttered, he gradually acquired the 
 habit of a slower enunciation than he had used in earlier days.* 
 
 * lie repeatedly spoke of this to Lis nephew, and acknowledged what 
 is stated in the text.
 
 14 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 He had a great dislike to private dinner-parties, and public 
 banquets he altogether eschewed. The only exceptions to this 
 stay-at-home habit of his were the following. He once accepted 
 an invitation to dine with Lord Chancellor Campbell, and thrice 
 he dined in public : first at the dinner given to Mr. Macready 
 on his retirement from the stage ; second, when he took the 
 chair, after having refused to do so for some nine consecutive 
 years, at the General Theatrical Fund Dinner, when the place 
 of meeting was moved from the London Tavern in the City to 
 the Freemason's Tavern in Great Queen Street; and thirdly, 
 when Lord Mayor Cotton gave a dinner to the profession at the 
 Mansion House.* 
 
 At Lord Campbell's he met Dr. Archibald Tait, then Bishop 
 of London, afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury, who told him, 
 as a Prelate of the Church, he took that opportunity of thanking 
 him for all the good he was doing, especially among the masses : 
 more good, in his opinion, he said, than all the clergymen in the 
 North of London put together. 
 
 After the dinner at the Hall of Commerce, when he was 
 loudly called for from all parts of the hall to follow Charles 
 Kemble in reply to the toast of the Stage, with which their 
 names were coupled, — he as the representative of the future, the 
 veteran as the representative of the past, — the chairman. Sir 
 Edward Bulwer Lytton, had to announce that he had left the 
 room. Two reasons he gave to his nejDhew for so doing. One 
 was that he considered the night was Mr. Macready's, and he 
 did not think it right to share in any of his honours ; and the 
 other was, that he really felt too nervous to do himself justice, 
 so he thought the best thing to do was to make himself non est. 
 The graceful manner in which Mr. Macready, now that all 
 rivalry between them was over, threw, as it were, his mantle 
 upon him, naming him his successor by saying, " that if inquiry 
 were set on foot for one best qualified to undertake the task 
 (the continuation of his work at Drury Lane fi'om December 
 1841 to June 1843), I should seek him in the theatre which, 
 by seven years' labour, he has from the lowest dejoths of 
 degradation raised very high in jjublic estimation ; " and the 
 
 * An account of the General Theatrical Fund Dinner will be found at 
 the end of the volume, as well as his speech at the Mansion House.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 15 
 
 immediate greeting which followed from the audience and his 
 brother professionals, James Wallack being the first to lead off 
 in heartiest congratulations, was evidently too much for him, 
 and he modestly withdrew to the sanctity of his own home to 
 ponder these things in his h.eart and gather fresh courage. 
 
 A few nights before this, when Mr. Macready took his fare- 
 well of the Stage, and Mr. Phelps played the character of 
 Macduff to his senior's Macbeth, a tremendous call was raised 
 for him at the end of the fourth act, but of which he took no 
 notice, alleging on this occasion, also, that the night was his 
 friend's. 
 
 He mif^ht have made a handsome income by teaching elocu- 
 tion had he been so inclined, for he was a master of the art ; 
 and his pronunciation of the English tongue, perfectly free 
 of all provincialisms, was singularly beautiful and clear. He 
 attached considerable importance to the canine letter, and often 
 said that the rolling of the r, when judiciously introduced, gave 
 strength and dignity to the language.* This was first forced 
 upon his attention when playing in the North of Scotland, and 
 it was in Dundee and Aberdeen, esi^ecially in the latter, where 
 he first caught up the Scottish accent, and to such perfection 
 that he often afterwards, in such characters as Bailie Nicol 
 Jarvie and Sir Pertinax Macsycophant, deceived even Scottish 
 ears. 
 
 To the hundreds of solicitations for lessons he gave a uni- 
 form refusal. To this rule, however, there were four exceptions. 
 To one of our now most eminent judges and to the son of 
 another he gave lessons ; and in his latter days the brothers 
 Forbes-Kobertson enjoyed the privilege of becoming his pupils. 
 With the latter he took no end of pains, going sometimes to 
 the theatre that he might judge for himself how the younger 
 of the two played his part. In all these cases his teaching was 
 a friendly act and not for any emolument. 
 
 His universally recognized elocutionary gifts, coupled with 
 his remarkably powerful voice, often led to his being chosen 
 
 * Tlie Spanish Consul-General of that day said that lie always advised 
 those of liis countrymen visiting England, that, although Iht^y might not 
 undorstand one word of the language, thoy should go and see Mr. I'lielpH, 
 were it only to hear him pronounce that letter.
 
 16 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 to deliver prologues and special addresses on benefit nights 
 and the like. It was he, for instance, who declaimed Isa Craig's 
 prize poem at the Crystal Palace on the centenary of Robert 
 Burns. 
 
 When Her Majesty and the late Prince Consort had weekly 
 performances for several seasons at Windsor Castle, he acted 
 there some of his principal characters. When these were under 
 the direction of Mr. Charles Kean, he performed Francesco 
 Agolanti in Leigh Hunt's play of A Legend of Florence, 
 Hubert in Shakespeare's King John, and King Henry IV. 
 in the Second Part of the play so entitled. He himself also 
 produced there with his own company Shakespeare's King 
 Henry V. and Romeo and Juliet, and Sir Edward Bulwer 
 Lytton's Richelieu. 
 
 On the Princess Royal's marriage a series of performances in 
 honour of the occasion was given at Her Majesty's Theatre, 
 when Mr. Phelps and his company led off with Macbeth, which 
 greatly disconcerted Mr. Charles Kean, and brought on an 
 illness. Some rather injudicious friends of his made a demon- 
 stration at the Princess's Theatre on the same evening to try 
 and allay the irritation it had caused him, and certain news- 
 paper correspondence to which the affair gave rise will be found 
 further on. 
 
 At the Shakespeare Tercentenary he planted the Oak on 
 Primrose Hill on the 23rd of April, 1864, in memory of the 
 poet, and in the name of the working men of England, who on 
 that occasion were present in their thousands. 
 
 Mr. Phelps once acted five nights at a provincial theatre 
 with Edmund Kean, a fact which has been derided by some 
 and variously described by others. His nephew distinctly 
 remembers Mr. Phelps telling his father, who was the tra- 
 gedian's elder brother, that one night, after The Iron Chest 
 was concluded, Kean told his secretary to ask the young man 
 who played Wilford to come to him, and on his appearing the 
 great actor said, " You have played your part well to-night, sir, 
 and if you continue as you have begun, you will one day tread 
 in my shoes." 
 
 A rumour got about in the early days of his management that 
 his gallery audiences were very unruly, and that he had been 
 
 to
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 known to put a cloak over his character dress and go into the 
 front of the house to quell a disturbance. There is no truth 
 whatever in this, and would not be noticed here had not wide 
 publicity been given to the statement in Charles Dickens's 
 Hoitschold Words* 
 
 During the early part of his career in the provinces, he acted 
 and sang the music of Young Meadows, Henry Bertram, and 
 Francis Osbaldistone. He could sing as high as G. He also 
 had some skill in miniature painting, and when in the country 
 added a little to his salary in this way. He could draw fairly 
 well in crayons, and his wife had in her possession for many 
 years a full-length portrait of himself, six inches in length, taken 
 by himself in the character of lago just after he had played it 
 to Charles Kean's Othello.f 
 
 He could converse on a great variety of subjects, showing 
 a larger acquaintance with the world than could very -well 
 be expected from one so absorbed in an exacting profession. 
 To the commercial aspect of things, however, he had but an 
 indifferent eye. 
 
 Like every other actor, Mr. Phelps had his mannerisms, wdiich 
 grew upon him with advancing age ; but there are mannerisms 
 and mannerisms, and, considering the large number of his tragic 
 characters, he repeated himself less than any leading actor that 
 can be named. The best judges, on the other hand, saw infinite 
 variety in him. 
 
 It is absurd to suppose a man can give effect to the same 
 description of character and passion in a different way, because 
 
 ■"■ I more than once during his life asked hira to allow me to deny it ; but 
 he always refused, saying, " Let it be, it is not worth being noticed." Now, 
 however, I consider it should not remain any longer uncontradicted. — 
 W. M. P. 
 
 I remember his telling me that the first night or two at Sadler's Wells he 
 was obliged to have an extra body of police from head-quarters, and that 
 these men did their duty so vigorously, that he was never afterwards 
 troubled. I have repeatedly seen doubtful characters of both sexes turned 
 back and refused admission to liigher-priced parts of the house than the 
 gallery.— J. F. R. 
 
 t Wliat has become of it I know not ; but having had it in my hands 
 many times, I can voucli for its admirable execution, as well as its striking 
 resenjLlance. — W. M. P. 
 

 
 18 • LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 it is in a different piece. A great actor must be the same every 
 now and then, or else, as Hazlitt said of Edmund Kean's critics, 
 they would look for this difference so often, that they would 
 expect him, at last, to play the part standing on his head, or 
 something very much like it. It is rather too much to expect 
 any man to be a chameleon in colour and a Proteus in form. 
 
 Shortly after Macready's retirement in 1851, he made up his 
 mind, his star being then in the ascendant, to take Druiy Lane 
 and see if he could continue his labours there, as they had 
 been carried on at Sadler's Wells, making it an all-round People's 
 Theatre. He left London fully persuaded that he should hear 
 in a day or two from Mr. Greenwood that he had signed and 
 sealed on their joint behalf, as lessees, when, to his dismay, 
 he was informed that, consequent on his partner's not having 
 deposited a cheque for £500 with the secretary, as was the 
 custom in those days, Mr. E, T. Smith had stepped over their 
 heads and secured the theatre. 
 
 This was a great disappointment to Mr. Phelps and his friends, 
 as the latter were persuaded he would have made it not only 
 a histrionic, but a financial success. His then partner, Thomas 
 Longden Greenwood, a man of the highest integrity and honour, 
 worked as diligently for the good of Sadler's Wells in his capacity 
 of business manager as Mr, Phelps did as the stage manager. 
 The knowledge the former had acquired in seven years as to 
 stage requirements, and where best to obtain all the many things 
 relating to theatrical and scenic effect at the smallest cost, was 
 very remarkable, and in a large establishment like Druiy Lane 
 such knowledge would have been invaluable. 
 
 Much has been said as to the so-called non-financial success 
 of Sadler's Wells ; but it had enabled him to live like a 
 gentleman for nineteen years, to be able in all his sporting and 
 other excursions to stay at good hotels, — he had the best rooms 
 at the Lion at Farningham always kept at his disposal, — and, 
 above all, to bring up a family of three sons and three daughters, 
 and give them all a first-class education, the two eldest boys 
 spending the last three years of their student life at Dresden, 
 and the youngest at the college at Worthing. Besides all this, 
 he was able to pay off, about the middle of his Sadler's Wells 
 career, serious amounts for which he had become security for
 
 INTRODUCTION. 19 
 
 four friends — two pairs of brothers — not long after he came to 
 London, and who were unable ever to repay him. For renewing 
 the bills from time to time he had to pay usurious interest. 
 Moreover, he lost nearly £3000 in commercial speculations.* 
 His co-lessee lived in very good style for sixteen years, and 
 retired with sufficient to live on. This, unfortunately, he 
 foolishly threw away for the most part by taking Astley's 
 Amphitheatre. The result, then, of the Sadler's Wells manage- 
 ment, though not exactly fortune, was far from being unsatis- 
 factory, and still further from being anything like failure. 
 
 The excellence of his company, which has already been 
 touched upon, was not, of course, equal in individual talent 
 to Mr. Macready's at either of the Patent Theatres ; but it may 
 be very much doubted whether any play in its entirety gave 
 greater satisfaction in the larger houses than it did at Sadler's 
 Wells ; for, be it remembered, it was as a whole, as John A. 
 Heraud once wrote in Talliss Magazine, " the result of this one 
 actor's brain." 
 
 With the exception of Mr. George Bennett and Mr. Henry 
 Marston, — and with these he seldom or never interfered, and 
 certainly not in their conception of characters, — every other 
 member of his company received the benefit of his assistance 
 in all they spoke and did. Now this would not have been 
 brooked by the majority of Mr. Macready's company, and as 
 some of them were frequently thrust into parts they thought 
 beneath them, no small amount of slurring was the consequence. 
 
 Charles Kean's company at the Princess's, consisting after 
 himself of Walter Lacy, Ryder, Belton, &c., could not in our 
 opinion compare Vv ith that of Mr. Phelps in Tragedy ; and that 
 of the Haymarket, though very good for certain modern pieces, 
 could not touch his in the acting of one of the old comedies. 
 
 It may not be amiss now to glance, if only cursorily, at a 
 few of those who were his contemporaries ; for, with the ex- 
 ception of Mr. Macready, the greatest of them all, others have 
 hitherto been only casually named. 
 
 Vandenhoff, although certainly a fine actor, was not equal 
 
 * I am hound to .'ulniit lie entered upon one of these speculations at my 
 suggestion ; hut many of the cliief commercial men of the day were equally 
 deceived.— W. M. P. 
 
 C 2
 
 20 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 to Mr. Phelps even in the characters in which he unquestion- 
 ably shone. He was certainly very circumscribed in his range, 
 and he could not act Comedy at all. 
 
 Charles Kean. — Many of those who came in contact with 
 him forty or fifty years ago have repeatedly asserted that Charles 
 Kean thought himself equal, if not superior, as an actor, to his 
 illustrious father. In the eyes of impartial people, he scarcely 
 possessed the physical attributes for performing leading cha- 
 racters, and to compare him with either Macready or Phelps 
 betrays, in our opinion, a bias not based on knowledge. His Sir 
 Walter Amyott, in The Wife's Secret, and Mr. Ford in The Merry 
 Wives of Windsor, were, perhaps, his two best characters. With 
 regard to his Louis XL, of which so much has been said, and 
 by many considered his best impersonation, it is well known 
 he went over to Paris to see the actor who created the part, in 
 the same way as he used to come to Sadler's Wells to see all 
 ^Ir. Phelps's productions during the first ten or twelve years of 
 his management. On his first night Kean intended the part 
 to be intensely tragic in every scene ; but the more he tried 
 to do this the more he travestied the character ; and from that 
 night, finding it went so well with the audience, he really did, 
 of his own free will, try to give to it a grotesque complexion. 
 George Daniel, the well-known dramatic critic, was of opinion 
 that Mr. Kean travestied every tragic character he ever attempted. 
 Yet we are free to acknowledge that Kean, in his best moments, 
 was not without a certain lifting power. 
 
 Mr. Phelps threw Mr. Kean completely into the shade by his 
 performance of Macduff at the Haymarket Theatre in 1841, and 
 he could never be induced to alternate Othello and lago with 
 him in London, having had sufiicient taste of Mr. Phelps's quality 
 in those characters in the North of England and in Scotland. 
 
 Warde was a very good tragic actor in his time, but very 
 limited in I'ange. He was generally content to play second 
 characters to Phelps. He died in 1840. 
 
 Elton, who preceded Phelps in London, was also a sterling 
 actor, never demurred to play inferior characters to him, and 
 accepted an engagement to play Castaldo, 2ijeune 2J'>'e^nicrs part, 
 to his Martinuzzi at the Lyceum for six weeks in 1841, at a 
 salary of £15 per week.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 21 
 
 George Bennett (lastly from Bath), avIio had been in London 
 fifteen years before Phelps, although only four years older, acted 
 many leading characters while Mr. Phel^DS was not much more 
 than a utility man in the provinces. When both were in London, 
 however, Bennett was willing to occupy a similar position in 
 reference to Phelps as Elton had done, and ultimately, for some 
 ten years, became one of his two right-hand men at Sadler's 
 Wells, and was great in such characters as Caliban, Benjamin 
 Stout, Sir Toby Belch, Douglas, Bessus, Joseph Surface, Hubert, 
 Henry V^IIL, Stukely, Apemantus, Enobarbus, and Pistol. The 
 first-named was an unrivalled piece of characterization. He 
 lived two years longer than his manager. 
 
 Anderson, who first appeared in London about five weeks 
 after Phelps, Avas for some years the most powerful actor of 
 juvenile tragic parts of his time, and could have remained so 
 for many years longer ; but, like Charles Kemble, he would be 
 something more, and failed. In 1849 he opened Drury Lane 
 Theatre, engaging Vandenhoff and John Cooper, and it was 
 currently reported that he said he would soon shut up Sadler's 
 Wells. The entertainment on his opening night consisted of 
 The Merchant of Venice and a pantomime, and lasted from 
 seven o'clock till midnight, Henry Marston, who accompanied 
 one of the writers on that occasion, remarked, on coming out, 
 that, however meritorious the performance might be, he did 
 not think Sadler's Wells would be brought to a standstill just 
 yet. The Drury Lane management lasted with disastrous 
 consequences to Mr. Anderson till 1851, but Sadler's Wells 
 continued under Mr. Phelps for thirteen years afterwards. Mr. 
 Anderson afterwards appeared at Drury Lane in 1865 with 
 Mr. Phelps, j^laying Faulconbridge to his King John, Charles 
 Surface to his Sir Peter Teazle, lachimo to his Leonatus 
 Posthumus, Marc Antony to his Brutus, and one night, for 
 Chatterton's benefit, Othello to his lago. 
 
 Henry Marston succeeded Mr. Phelps as leading actor at the 
 Exeter Theatre under Hay's management in 1837-8, and first 
 appeared early in 1839 at Drury Lane, under W. J, Hammond's 
 management as Benedick, Mrs. Stirling jjlaying Beatrice, He 
 afterwards stood in the same relation to Mr. Phelps as Mr. 
 Bennett. Unlike his manager, however, he was a thorough
 
 22 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 follower of the Kemble school, and, in the oi^inion of many good 
 judges, he was the legitimate successor of Charles Kemble, 
 playing with great success in his prime all his characters both 
 in Tragedy and Comedy. Among these were Macduff, Edgar, 
 Doricourt, Faulconbridge, Benedick, lachimo, Jaffier, &c. ; and 
 had he not had something the matter with the roof of his 
 mouth all his life, which considerably affected his voice, he 
 "wovild have done more justice to Hamlet, Romeo, and other 
 leading characters than Charles Kemble did. He acted lago 
 to his chiefs Othello oftener than all the other lagos put 
 together, and finely he played it. He told his nephew that 
 he dreaded the approach of the Othello night, for Mr. Phelps 
 was always so terribly in earnest, that he thrust him about 
 like a shuttlecock, and made his right arm and wrist ache 
 for days after. 
 
 Creswick made his d^hut as a leading actor in London at 
 Sadler's Wells in 1846 in the character of Hotspur, followed 
 by Romeo, both of which he acted with success. He remained 
 with Mr. Phelps some six or seven months, and afterwards 
 played at the Princess's and the Haymarket, and then became 
 joint lessee with Mr. Shepherd of the Surrey Theatre, where 
 he remained several years. He was with Mr. Phelps at both 
 Drury Lane and the Princess's under Chatterton's management, 
 and played Macduff to his former manager's Macbeth for four 
 nights a week, and Macbeth the other two, Helen Faucit being 
 Lady Macbeth. He played also Hotspur to his Sir John Falstaff, 
 lacro to his Othello, lachimo to his Leonatus, Cassius to his 
 Brutus, and Josej)h Surface to his Sir Peter Teazle, &c. He 
 had a good voice and presence, and was for many years a 
 popular all-round actor. 
 
 G. V. Brooke, originally of Dviblin, made his first appearance 
 in London at the Old Olympic in 1847-8 ; but he ought to 
 have appeared four or five years earlier. In 1842-3 Mr. 
 Macready sent his agent to Aberdeen to see him play, — the 
 Theatre Royal of that city being then under the management 
 of Mr. Langley, — and so satisfied was that gentleman with 
 his performance, that he engaged him there and then. G. V. 
 Brooke shortly after started for the metropolis ; but in the mean- 
 time he had been smitten by a lady of Babylonian beauty.
 
 INTEODUCTION. 23 
 
 sojourning in the Granite City, and she, holding him fast in her 
 toils, arrested his southward progress at Dundee. One of the 
 most promising careers was thus blasted. Never did young actor 
 enter on the stage more richly dowered, and never did young 
 actor throw his gifts more wildly to the wind. While under the 
 witchery of this Circe he entered upon a series of intermittent 
 orgies, which lasted for several years ; and when he finally burst 
 through her spells and appeared in London, his glorious voice, 
 with all its marvellous sweetness, flexibility, and power, was 
 gone, and he spoke in the cracked and husky accents of a 
 Bacclianal. And yet, in spite of this melancholy and pitiful 
 declension, Gustavus Brooke made way in the Metropolis. 
 But the people of London, the States, and Australia never 
 saw him at his best. 
 
 Swinging with one arm carelessly on the cabin door of the 
 sinking steamer whereon he unflinchingly fulfilled his destiny, 
 waving his adieus with the other to the laden boat which he 
 heroically refused to enter, and bidding its rescued occupants, 
 in cheery voice, give his kind regards and remembrances to his 
 friends in Australia, his death was altogether enviable and 
 beautiful exceedingly. 
 
 Barry Sullivan, bom at Birmingham in 1824, had achieved 
 a considerable reputation in Liverpool, Manchester, and Scotland 
 before he appeared in London at the Haymarket in 1851 as 
 Hamlet. He had acted Faulconbridge to Mr. Phelps's King John 
 and Mrs. Warner's Constance in Liverpool, as well as Cassius 
 or Marc Antony the previous year, and Phelps, on returning 
 to town, spoke well of him. • 
 
 On Barry Sullivan's return from Australia in 186G, he took 
 the position that Anderson had held the previous year, and 
 played Faulconbridge and Charles Surface with fine effect. His 
 style belonged to the Charles Kemble school. He had nn- 
 doubted power, but in such characters as Macbeth and Richard 
 lacked fire and intensity. 
 
 Charles Dillon was first known to one of the present writers 
 in the Island of Jersey in 1838, where he was playing the lead 
 at the age of twenty-five, under the management of Mr. Pyott 
 Green. The entertainment at th^ theatre consisted generally 
 of melodrama, but Hamlet and Othello were both acted at
 
 24 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 intervals, and in these characters Dillon showed greater promise 
 than he ever fulfilled. 
 
 After going the round of the provinces, he became manager 
 of the Sheffield Theatre for some time, and came to London 
 in 1856-7, playing Belphegor — by far his finest character — at 
 Sadler's Wells between Mr. Phelps's seasons, with great success, 
 and afterwards at the Lyceum, of which he became the lessee. 
 He wanted Mr. Phelps to act there in the summer; but, 
 thouQ[h the terms were liberal, he declined work durins: the 
 hot weather. . 
 
 After Creswick, Anderson, and Barry Sullivan had been 
 successively engaged, Mr. Phelps tried Dillon at Drury Lane 
 for a while by way of a change ; but the change was for the 
 worse, and his attempt to play Falstaff and Hotspur on alternate 
 nights with Mr. Phelps was simply ludicrous ; yet two good 
 judges of acting are said to have thought highly of his Othello. 
 He afterwards appeared as Leontes in A Winter's Tale during 
 the autumn of Chatterton's last season, but it was a miserable 
 failure. 
 
 Hermann Vezin. — This accomplished actor was jenne 'premier 
 at Sadler's Wells in 1860, and played with recognized success 
 Orlando in As You Like It, Sir Thomas Clifford in The Hunch- 
 back, and Peregrine in Coleman's John Bull, a character origin- 
 ally played by George Frederick Cooke. Mr. Vezin's elocution 
 was scholarly and finished, and he is one of the very few English 
 actors who understand and practise that most essential accom- 
 plishment in a player — the beautiful art of fence. 
 
 RoBSON was well known at the Grecian before he went to 
 Dublin, prior to his appearing at the Strand in the burlesque 
 of Shy lock. He showed best in domestic drama, and Mr. 
 Phelps went to see him in the Porter's Knot, or in Daddy 
 Hardacre, and was so pleased with his acting that he wrote him 
 a letter of congratulation the next day. He went again to see 
 him in another character; but it was, in his vieAv, simply a 
 repetition of the same thing, although, to his mind, it ought 
 to have been very different. This showed how circumscribed 
 Robson's powers of conception were. When he attempted 
 Bottom the Weaver at theTxrecian, he failed to body forth 
 his idiosyncrasy. Robson himself was well aware of the limit
 
 INTRODUCTION. 25 
 
 of his range, and very wisely refused to be cajoled into trying 
 to act the Shakespearean Shylock. 
 
 Fechter. — This gentleman, on the second of Mr. Phelps's 
 vacations at Sadler's Wells, during which he ajapeared at the 
 Princess's, after Charles Kean had given it up, alternated his 
 Hamlet with Mr. Phelps's King Lear. The former, it must 
 frankly be confessed, drew the larger houses, so far as receipts 
 were concerned. Hamlet filled the boxes, but King Lear 
 crammed the gallery and pit. At the same time, it must 
 be remembered Fechter's nights were the off-nights of the 
 Opera, whereas, when Phelps played, Covent Garden was 
 open. 
 
 His agreement with Mr. Harris being only verbal, Mr. Phelps 
 did not wish to apjDear, telling him he was sure two excitements 
 in the same theatre, especially in the summer season, could 
 hardly be got up, much less maintained ; and that, if Mr. Harris 
 wished to keep him to his agreement, he certainly would not 
 share, as he had done the previous year, but would draw a 
 stated salary, and to this the manager agreed. However, just 
 as King Lear was beginning to draw the box people in larger 
 numbers, and the Hamlet to flag in securing their attendance, 
 Mr. Phelps had made up his mind to take rest. Few people 
 knew these facts. 
 
 We are inclined to agree with the French critics in their 
 estimate of Fechter, and consider that he was more a melo- 
 dramatic than a tragic actor. His Hamlet was fresh, the 
 business new, and, to a certain extent, was regarded as a 
 success ; but his Othello was altogether a failure. His most 
 finished performance was Ruy Bias ; but even here he failed 
 to rise to the full height in the last act. 
 
 Having thus run rapidly through the male performers of 
 Mr. Phelps's time, we propose to take an equally cursory glance 
 at the ladies. 
 
 Mary Amelia Huddart, afterwards Mrs. Warner, was the 
 lean ideal of a tragic performer, especially in severe and majestic 
 characters, and greater, perhaps, in them than any other actress 
 of our time. In our opinion, she was the legitimate successor 
 of Mrs. Siddons. She played Portia to Mr. Phelps's Shylock un 
 his first appearance in London, and was, as will hereafter be
 
 26 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 stated, with him as joiut manager of Sadler's Wells from Whit 
 Monday 1844 to 1846. 
 
 Helen Faucit, now Lady Martin, was generally and justly 
 considered the most poetical delineator of tragic characters 
 of her day, and her elocution was certainly unmatched. She 
 played with great success all Shakespeare's juvenile characters, 
 and was the original representative of the heroines of Lord 
 Lytton and Dr. Westland Marston. In Marie de Meranie of the 
 last-named she was perfection itself. Her popularity, moreover, 
 in provincial theatres, and especially in Scotland, was immense. 
 
 Ellen Tree, afterwards Mrs. Charles Kean, was both accom- 
 plished and popular, and at different periods of her career essayed 
 all the characters played both by Mrs. Warner and Miss Helen 
 Faucit ; but she lacked the splendid presence and physique of 
 the former, and the sylph-like grace and poetry of the latter. 
 
 Mrs. Stirling, whom we still have happily among us, and 
 who still retains her power to charm, has a grateful remem- 
 brance of the kindness Mr. Phelps showed in helping her to 
 master the difficulties of Scottish pronunciation, when she 
 played Lady Rodolpha Lumbercourt many years ago at the 
 Haymarket. She also, among her other personations, played 
 Sophia in The Road to Ruin ; and Mr. Phelps always spoke 
 of her acting in terms of the highest appreciation. 
 
 Laura Addison, who made her London d^Utt at Sadler's Wells 
 in 1846, had a great deal of natural ability, which she had a 
 thorough opportunity of exhibiting during the two years she was 
 under Mr. Phelps's management. In several parts, indeed, both 
 original and Shakespearean, she greatly distinguished herself. 
 Nothing could be finer than her Margaret Randolph in Feudal 
 Times, and Lilian Savile in John Savile of Haysted, Viola 
 in Twelfth Night, Lady Mabel in The Patrician's Daughter, 
 Julia in The Hunchback, and Isabella in Measure for Measure. 
 
 Isabella Glyn (Mrs. Wills, afterwards Mrs. Dallas) made a 
 decided mark during the three years — viz. from 1848 to 1851 — 
 she was with Mr. Phelps. Her Beatrice in Much Ado about 
 Nothing was a remarkably fine performance, and her Cleopatra 
 in Antony and Cleopatra was simply magnificent. In these 
 parts her acting was equal to Mrs. Warner's ; but, apparently 
 from a lack of feeling and sympathy with the part personated,
 
 INTRODUCTION. 27 
 
 she was iufeiior to Mrs. Waruer in every character specially 
 pertaining to her that she essayed. 
 
 Faxny Cooper, wlio was several years with Mr. Phelps as 
 an actress of high Comedy, and the more delicate of juvenile 
 Tragedy parts, was a lady of great ability and a decided 
 favourite. Her Lady Teazle, Lady Townley, Mrs. Ford, Rosa- 
 lind, Virginia, Julie de Mortemar, were all fine performances, 
 and her Sophia in The Road to Ruin in 1846 was equal to 
 Mrs. Stirling's in 1840, whicli is awarding her the highest 
 praise that can be given. 
 
 Helen Fitzpatrick came from Dublin, and made her first 
 appearance at Sadler's Wells in 1849, as Letitia Hardy in The 
 Belle's Stratagem, followed by Constance in The Love Chase, 
 Lady Gay Spanker in London Assurance, and other characters 
 previously associated with Mrs. Nisbett, whose legitimate suc- 
 cessor she eventually proved herself in the eyes of all capable 
 of forming a judgment. She possessed all her fine animal 
 spirits, if she did not quite convey to the audience the contagion 
 of Mrs. Nisbett' s ringcino; and unrivalled lausfh. 
 
 Mrs. Charles Young, afterwards Mrs. Hermann Vezin, also 
 made her first bow to a London audience at Sadler's Wells, and 
 in the autumn of 1857. She played not only high Comedy 
 parts very finely, but such characters as Julia in The Hunchback, 
 with which part she opened with great success. Some people 
 thought, indeed, that as Helen in The Hunchback she quite 
 divided the honours with Miss Faucit when they played together 
 at Drury Lane, where she remained off and on for five seasons 
 commencing in 1864. Her Rosalind was decidedly good, and her 
 Fanny in The Hypocrite was a most admirable piece of Comedy. 
 
 Rachel and Ristori, the two greatest foreign actresses of 
 his time, Phelps never saw, consequently could form no idea 
 of the strangely attenuated and weird-like personality of the 
 former, which at times she could endow with an intensity of 
 passion which made the beholder shiver to his very marrow. 
 If Rachel could thus give to human hate almost a fiendish 
 compression, Ristori was scarcely less successful in moving 
 lier audiences by the display of a breadth and power (piite 
 unrivalled. She had her subtle touches of surprise, too, iu 
 Comedy as in Tragedy, and the womanly proportions of a
 
 28 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 splendid figure imparted dignity and grace to everything she 
 did. But all this Mr. Phelj^s had to take on hearsay. 
 
 In illustration of the non-commercial side of Phelps's character, 
 the following circumstance may be here cited. About lS-1-9 Mr. 
 Tallis, the publisher, conceived the idea of bringing out Phelps's 
 edition of the acting drama. Each of the plays in which he had 
 appeared was to have an engraving of himself in character, and 
 those pieces in which he did not play, a portrait of Mr. Bennett, 
 Mr. Marston, or the leading Lady. 
 
 The publication, in short, was to have been copies of his 
 prompt-books, and he had actually stood for the characters of 
 Macbeth and Hamlet, when his nephew asked him what he 
 was to have for the copyright. " You are not going to give 
 away the result of years of labour for nothing?" "I never 
 thought of that," he answered, and seemed quite struck with 
 the question ; " I must speak to Tallis." Mr. Phelps did speak 
 to Tallis, and named w^hat he considered a fair sum. Ou 
 Mr. Tallis demurring to the amount, it so annoyed Mr. Phelps 
 that he at once said, "You shall not have it now at any 
 price ; " but the interview ultimately resulted in the publication 
 of Tallis's Shakespeare and Magazine. The first play issued was 
 Macbeth with his portrait. It was generally understood that 
 40,000 copies were sold, and a second edition of 30,000. 
 
 Some time after this, Willoughby's edition of Shakespeare 
 was proposed, if he would undertake the editing. His time, 
 however, was too much occupied otherwise. It was then sug- 
 gested that E. L. Blanchard should do the notes, submitting 
 them to him for supervision. This was, in a measure, a mere 
 matter of form ; but, as the book was sent out to the world 
 under his name, he felt bound, he said, to look over the anno- 
 tations. At the same time, it must be confessed that w^hatever 
 merit attached to the work belonged, without doubt, to the 
 sub-editor already named. 
 
 Of the thousands of letters he received during his career, 
 only a few hundreds have been preserved, and from these have 
 been selected a few from such men as Macready, Charles Dickens, 
 John Forster, Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, Rev. James "White, 
 G. H. Boker, and others.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 29 
 
 A number of play-bills, also, are inserted, extending over 
 a period of fifty years, which may serve as reference, at some 
 future time, to those who may wish to know hoAv plays were 
 cast from 1814 to 1868. 
 
 The plays produced by Mr. Macready during his four years 
 of management, and those produced by Mr. Phelps during the 
 first four seasons he had Sadler's Wells, with the number of 
 nights they were each played at Covent Garden and Drury 
 Lane, and at Sadler's Wells, will also be found at the end of 
 the work. To those curious in such matters the comparison 
 will be interesting. 
 
 During forty years of intimate relationship and constant 
 observation, his nephew sums up his character in this way, 
 that, although he was studious, thoughtful, and generally bring- 
 ing to bear on all he did great judgment, he was one of the 
 most impulsive of men ; but impulsive on the right side, if it 
 was to do any person a service. Self-interest was the last thing 
 that presented itself to his mind. 
 
 This impulsiveness was frequently made strongly manifest in 
 his acting. He would produce effects one night that he would 
 altocfether miss another. In the -same character he would be 
 one night, all fire and animation, and so tame, comparatively, on 
 another, that he would seem to have " no spur to prick the sides 
 of his intent." This will account for certain criticisms that some- 
 times appeared. He never cared, however, generally speaking, 
 to act any character more than twenty nights in succession, 
 that freshness and spontaneity, as far as possible, might be ever 
 present. 
 
 Into his acting generally he threw immense energy. He 
 could be intense, fiery, vigorous, rough, refined, ineffably mean, 
 or magnificently grand, as occasion required. Like Edmund 
 Kean, by certain intonations of the voice and movements 
 of the figure, he could make himself apj^ear much taller and 
 bigger than he really was. Lofty pride he exhibited with 
 great largeness of action : witness his Cardinal Wolsey and 
 Coriolanus. As Louis XL, on the other hand, he dwindled into 
 a manikin. All kingly and soldierly qualities he could manifest 
 in his matchless bearing, as his Henry V., Melantius, and 
 Macbeth bear ample testimony ; and, above all, he threw into
 
 30 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 such characters a pathos which was unapproachably manly and 
 grand. It went straight home to the heart of every one of his 
 auditors, who felt that in him they had the surcharged soul and 
 the electric outcome of an artist and a master. 
 
 The late John Oxenford, in one of his criticisms, said that those 
 who had seen his Bottom the Weaver, Parolles, Don Adriano 
 de Armado, Falstaff, Shallow, and Sir Pertinax Macsycophant 
 would not easily forget him. But no less memorable, in our 
 opinion, were his murder and banquet scenes in Macbeth ; the 
 close of the first and second acts, and entire fifth act of his King 
 Lear ; the close of the second and entire third act of his Hamlet ; 
 the third and fifth acts of his Othello ; the third act of his 
 Shylock ; the last act of his Sir Giles Overreach ; the last act 
 of his Stranger ; and, above all, the last act of his Lucius Junius 
 Brutus, and the last act of his Wolsey. Whoever, possessed of 
 the necessary sympathy and dramatic instinct, beheld any of 
 these must carry with them the impressions distinct and clear 
 till they and their possessors are effaced by death. 
 
 We are well aware that there are those who will not alto- 
 gether agree with this estimate of his powers. Some have 
 denied that he was a great actor, or at least not great in 
 Tragedy ; others have stated that he was only a famous 
 declaimer and elocutionist. Some have accused him of lacking 
 imagination ; others of being, in his tragic performances, defi- 
 cient in variety. In respect of his comic characters, there 
 were those who denied them the quality of unctuousness, and 
 others the command of facial expression, and some said that 
 he was only a fairly good comic actor, and there were not 
 wanting those who alleged that he could not personate the 
 heroic. 
 
 Mr. Phelps was not "hail fellow well met" at clubs and 
 smoking parties, nor was he to be seen at the dinner-table of 
 my lord, or at the receptions of my lady, who affected Bohemia 
 and the dwellers therein ; and, above all, he never courted 
 quasi -literary cliques, or, in any way, pandered to the jjress; 
 consequently, its more ignoble members and perky little whip- 
 sters, when he played at Drury Lane in 1865, penned words 
 of disparagement, when they dared, and called it independent 
 criticism.
 
 IXTEODUCTIOX. 31 
 
 But the ablest literary judges, who make a specialty of the 
 drama, have agreed with us, as the various criticisms in the 
 different parts of this book will prove, and with them the great 
 majority of play-goers who are old enough to remember him in 
 his prime, that Phelps, for versatility and comprehensiveness, 
 was the Garrick and the Henderson of the nineteenth century 
 rolled into one, the rival of Macready, and, after his retirement, 
 beyond all comparison, the greatest as well as the most perfect 
 and finished actor of his time. 
 
 In the history of the Stage no other leading man can be named 
 who played with equal success such opposite characters as 
 Macbeth, Sir Peter Teazle, Bottom the Weaver, and Sponge ; 
 Coriolanus, Mercutio, Falstaff, and Jeremy Didler; Hamlet, 
 Lord Ogleby, Christopher Sly, and Young Kapid ; Othello, Dr. 
 Cantwell, Don Adriano de Armado, and Hotspur; King Lear, 
 Jeremiah Bumps, Malvolio, and Don Felix ; Brutus, Nicholas 
 Flam, Shylock, and Rover ; Wolsey, and Job Thornbury ; and, 
 in the same play. King Henry IV. and Justice Shallow; King 
 James I. and Trapbois the Miser.
 
 FROM HIS BIRTH TO THE OPENING OF 
 SADLER'S WELLS. 
 
 1804—1837. 
 
 Samuel Phelps was born on the 13th of February, 1804, 
 at No. 1, St. Aubyn Street, in the Parish of Stoke Damerell, 
 in the Borough of Devonport (then Plymouth Dock), in the 
 County of Devon. 
 
 He was the seventh child and second son of Robert M. and 
 Ann Phelps. 
 
 His father, at the time of his birth, kept the principal 
 warehouse in the three towns of Plymouth, Devonport, and 
 Stonehouse for supplying naval officers with their outfits, and 
 was on terms of intimacy with Sir Sidney Smith and other 
 commanders of distinction in the Navy of that period. His 
 social position was such that he had His Majesty's commission 
 conferred on him as second in command of the Plymouth 
 Division of the South Devon Volunteer Artillery, organized just 
 then for the defence of our shores against the threatened 
 invasion of the First Napoleon. 
 
 His paternal grandfather was Abraham Phelps, of Pilton 
 Great House, Pilton, near Shepton Mallet, Somersetshire (who 
 was a descendant of a couple from Scotland, who settled in 
 Somerset about James I.'s time), a glove and stocking manu- 
 facturer on an extensive scale, and who, at a county election, 
 rode in at the head of one hundred voters who had accepted 
 him as their political leader. 
 
 His paternal uncle, Edmund, was the second husband of 
 Catherine Anne, Countess of Antrim (in her own right), and 
 step-father of Frances Anne Vane Tempest, afterwards the 
 Marchioness of Londonderry, who did so much for the coal-
 
 EARLY DAYS AT DEVOXPORT. 33 
 
 miners on her estates in the North of England. This uncle 
 was for some time Secretary of Legation with Lord Burghersh, 
 afterwards Earl of Westmoreland, at the Court of Turin, 
 and Lieutenant of the Yeomen of the Guard in the reion of 
 
 o 
 
 George the Fourth. He was for many years on terms of great 
 intimacy and friendship with the Duke of Wellington and Sir 
 Robert Peel, as well as the before-mentioned Earl of West- 
 moreland, to whom he rendered active assistance in founding 
 the Royal Academy of Music. 
 
 The maternal grandfather of Mr. Phelps held His Majesty's 
 commission, and his sole maternal uncle was Charles Turner, 
 Captain in the Royal Navy. 
 
 The future player received his education for the most part 
 in his native town, finishing it at the classical school at Saltash, 
 conducted by Dr. Samuel Reece. 
 
 He was a well-grown, powerful boy, and an accomplished 
 s^Yimmer. He was left an orphan at the age of sixteen years, 
 and was then taken to the home of his eldest brother,* who 
 was a wine and spirit merchant. He put him nine months 
 afterwards with the printers and publishers of the principal 
 Plymouth newspaper, as a junior reader, with whom he stayed 
 in that capacity for three months. At this time he would 
 frequently get out of his brother's house by stealth late in 
 the evening, to act as an amateur in the after-pieces at the 
 Devonport Theatre. 
 
 His sisters, had they known it, would, no doubt, have raised 
 objections to his having anything to do with the theatre ; 
 but not so his brother. He had resided in London in 1813-14, 
 and again in 1818-19, and had seen Mrs. Siddons and John 
 Kemble, Charles Young, Charles Kemble, Edmund Kean, and 
 Macready, having been, during his sojourn in the metropolis, 
 a constant visitor to Covcnt Garden and Drury Lane with 
 his cousin, Doctor Hyde, who was the dramatic critic of one 
 of the morning papers. 
 
 When Samuel had reached his seventeenth birthday, he 
 suddenly made up his mind to come to London to see what 
 the metropolis would offer to an asjDiring youth, having evi- 
 dently then, as he acknowledged afterwards to his nephew, a 
 
 * Hi.s eldest brother was my father. — W. M. P.
 
 S4 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 strong predilection for the stage. He was, however, more 
 particularly prompted to this step by that nephew's maternal 
 grandfather, who told him it was a shame that he allowed 
 himself to be an incubus on one who had quite enough to 
 do to look after himself and a young wife without having a 
 brother to provide for as well. 
 
 He said nothing to his brother of this conversation, well 
 knowincj how he would have resented such an interference on 
 the part of his father-in-law. Samuel's mind, however, was 
 made up. He left his brother's house without a single word 
 of leave-taking, and, with only fourteen shillings and sixpence 
 in his pocket, started on his journey for London. He called 
 on his way, at Bristol, on his uncle Isaac, his father's youngest 
 brother, one of the principal merchants in that port,* from 
 whom he received some assistance, and again turned his face 
 towards London. His brother heard nothing of him again, after 
 his first arrival, for nearly sixteen years. 
 
 On reaching London he underwent, at first, some few pri- 
 vations, but in a short time he succeeded in sfettincr a trial 
 on the Glohc newspaper as a temporary junior reader, and got 
 on so well that he soon obtained a permanent appointment 
 as such. In course of time he rose from being a junior to a 
 senior, and acted in this capacity on the Glohe, and afterwards 
 on the Sicn, for a space of five years, being at the time he gave 
 up this work head reader on one or the other of these two 
 evening newspapers.f He was also occasionally a contributor 
 to both. 
 
 Whilst in these capacities he made the acquaintance of the 
 late Douglas Jerrold and W. E. Love (polyphonist), who were 
 both with him on these journals, and they were all three for 
 nearly the whole of the five years the principal members of 
 an amateur theatrical company who gave from one to three 
 performances a week at a small private theatre in Rawstone 
 Street, Islington. 
 
 He had in the meantime fallen in love, and, when he had just 
 completed his twenty-second year, he was asked by a member 
 
 * His wife was an aunt of the late J. A. Roebuck. 
 
 + He occasionally worked in other establishments in other capacities 
 than that of a reader. — W. M. P.
 
 HIS EARLY MARRIAGE. 35 
 
 of the Olympic Theatre, who had seen and thought well of his 
 acting, to perform for him on his benefit night. He assented, 
 and was announced as a gentleman amateur. The characters 
 he performed that night were Eustache de St. Pierre in The 
 Surrender of Calais, and the Count de Valmont in The Found- 
 ling of the Forest. His success was so great that he made up 
 his mind at once to throw up journalism and make the stage 
 his profession.* 
 
 As a preliminary to his commencing systematically on 
 the stage the arduous labour of trying to become famous, he 
 married. 
 
 The young lady was only sixteen years of age, and her name 
 was Sarah Cooper. They were married at St. George's Church, 
 Queen's Square, 11th August, 1826, and in the autumn of the 
 same year he accepted an engagement to act in the York circuit 
 at eighteen shillings per week. This was rather a bold begin- 
 ning, seeing he had no private means; for, although he had been 
 earning on the papers latterly as much as three and four pounds 
 a week, he had not saved anything. Fortunately for him, his 
 wife had an aunt and uncle in fairly comfortable circumstances 
 at York, who befriended them on many occasions, when they 
 would otherwise have fared badly. This he never forgot ; for, 
 in later years, he showed his affectionate regard for the old lady, 
 when a widow, by administering out of his plenty to her then 
 comparative poverty. He continued more or less in the York 
 circuit and other Yorkshire towns for three years, and in June 
 1828 his eldest son was born. He was not actually acting in 
 York at that time, but some thirty miles off, at Leeds; but 
 his wife, fortunately for him as well as herself, was with her 
 relations, otherwise her wants would have been but scantily 
 supplied; for, although he was no longer earning so little as 
 eighteen shillings a week, still his salary had not been increased 
 very materially. His nephew well remembers his uncle telling 
 him how early on Sunday mornings he used to start to walk 
 from where he was to York, that he might spend the middle of 
 the day with her, and then leave so as to arrive in time for his 
 rehearsals on Monday morning. 
 
 There was no coach between the two places on Sundays, 
 
 * See Appendix. 
 
 D 2
 
 36 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 and, if there had been, he had not the means to pay for ridincf. 
 He once, also in Yorkshire, had to walk to an engagement many 
 miles for want of funds, and the only help he got then was to 
 hang on behind some way to the stage-coach for a few miles to 
 enable him to arrive in good time ; but he was very tired and 
 footsore when he got to his destination. Those two things, and 
 once walking in St. James's Park in 1821 countinsf the railinsfs 
 as he figuratively said, for his dinner, are the only special trials 
 that he went through when a young man. He still continued 
 in the North of England, pushing his way and gaining ground 
 in his profession. In the autumn of 1830 we find him at 
 the Sheffield Theatre under the management of the Butlers, 
 dividing the leading business with Samuel Butler. He made 
 three great hits there, viz. Nerval, King John, and Goldfinch 
 in The Road to Ruin. The latter's line of " I'm a orentleman, 
 that's your sort," became so popular, that it was in every- 
 body's mouth all over the town through the winter months 
 that followed. 
 
 Early in 1832 he was engaged by Mr. Watkin Burroughs as 
 leading actor for the Belfast, Preston, and Dundee theatres, and 
 then by Mr. Ryder for the Aberdeen, Perth, and Inverness 
 circuit. He remained connected with those circuits in the same 
 position for four years, and his fame as a provincial Shake- 
 spearean actor of the first rank extended far and wide. He not 
 only played leading tragic characters, but comic as well as 
 tragic, old men of all descriptions, and eccentric Comedy, and 
 was as successful in one line as the other. So much was this 
 the case that Mr. Burroughs, himself no mean judge, was puzzled, 
 he said, as to what to advise him to do first, when the time 
 should arrive for him to make his cUhct in the metropolis. At 
 Belfast he more than once gave lectures on elocution. 
 
 At Inverness and Aberdeen he played the Dougal Creature 
 to Mr. Ryder's famous Rob Roy, and Sir Archy Macsarcasm in 
 Love a la Mode with great success. It was during his four years' 
 connection with the above-mentioned theatres that he acquired 
 that mastery of the Scottish dialect which he used afterwards 
 with such effect in several other Scotch characters, to the great 
 delight of his patrons in the North, many of whom would have 
 it that he was a born Scotchman. Whilst in the capital of the
 
 APPEARS AT EXETER. 37 
 
 Highlands he made the acquaintance and friendship of Robert 
 Carruthers, author of a Life of Pope, and proprietor and editor 
 of the Inverness Courier, and this friendship continued till his 
 death. 
 
 He now made up his mind to come south, and in the summer 
 of 1836 we find* him starring at the Worthing Theatre, where 
 he drew large audiences, and first laid the foundation of his 
 London popularity ; for it was there many families from town 
 first saw him, and delightedly renewed their acquaintance when 
 he afterwards came to the metropolis. In Worthing he made a 
 great hit in Mr. Samuel Coddle, a great part of the elder Farren's. 
 Whilst there, Mr. Hay, the then manager of the Exeter and 
 Plymouth theatres, heard of him, and at once secured his services 
 for the winter season for the former theatre, where he appeared 
 in October, and with great success. 
 
 The first time his nephew heard of him professionally was by 
 two paragraphs which appeared in the Plymouth newspapers. 
 The Journal on a Thursday said, "A new actor by the name 
 of Phelps has made his appearance at the Exeter Theatre 
 with great success. The Exeter critics speak of him as 
 rivalling Kean, who was first raised from obscurity on the 
 same boards." The Saturday following the Herald said, " We 
 understancl that Mr. Phelps, the tragedian, who has created 
 such an immense sensation at the Exeter Theatre by his 
 powerful delineations of Shakespearean characters, is a native 
 of Devonport, which town he left at an early age. The Exeter 
 critics say that he is equal to the lamented Edmund Kean." 
 The first was written by William Gill, the editor, and the 
 second, by George Wightwick, the architect, who were the 
 dramatic critics of those two papers. 
 
 His success at Exeter was so great that he played some of his 
 characters for an entire week, and notably that of King Lear, a 
 very rare occurrence in the provinces in those days. He filled 
 the Exeter Theatre every night for a space of four months and a 
 half, playing for his benefit Sir Giles Overreach in A New Way 
 to Pay (Jld Debts, Guy Goodluck in John Jones, and Sponge in 
 Where Shall I Dine, the house being crammed to suffocation. 
 
 A week afterwards he was announced to star at the Plymouth 
 Theatre for five nights, in the following characters in succession, 
 
 24sb::o
 
 38 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 viz. Virginius, Richard III., Sir Giles Overreach, Sir Edward 
 Mortimer, and Othello, all of which drew good houses, and very 
 laudatory criticisms from all the newspapers in the three towns 
 of Plymouth, Stonehouse, and Devonport. 
 
 On the Friday night, however, a slight contretemps occurred, 
 as Mr. Mude, the stage manager, who was announced for lago, 
 told him in the morning he could not get the words of the part, 
 never having acted it; and as he understood Mr. Phelps had 
 frequently performed it, would he have any objection to exchange 
 characters, and so avoid changing the bill. Mr. Phelps said he 
 had none, and would go on for lago with great pleasure. This, 
 however, not having been notified to the audience until the 
 curtain was about to be drawn up, an uproar arose, which 
 was only appeased by Mr. Mude addressing the audience, 
 telling them the dilemma he was placed in, and of Mr. Phelps's 
 handsome behaviour on being appealed to to get him out 
 of it* 
 
 During this short visit to Plymouth he made the acquaintance 
 of Sir Henry Blackwood, Bart., a Captain in the Royal Navy, 
 Colonel Palk, who commanded the 32nd Regiment, quartered 
 at Devonport, brother of Sir Lawrence Palk, both amateur 
 actors, known to his uncle Edmund, Mr. George Wightwick 
 already mentioned, and Colonel Hamilton Smith. It' was their 
 habit, along with Phelps's elder brother and his son, to assemble 
 nightly in his dressing-room after each performance ; and it 
 was here the nephew first imbibed a taste for things theatri- 
 cal. Phelps returned to Exeter until the close of the season, 
 and then came back to Plymouth with his family for the 
 spring and early summer, reappearing on Easter Monday as 
 King Lear, which was followed in turn by nearly all his 
 Shakespearean tragic characters. He played for his benefit 
 Lucius Junius Brutus in Howard Payne's tragedy of Brutus, 
 
 * This was the first time his family had seen him for nearly sixteen 
 years, and of course the first time I had seen him at all ; and well I remem- 
 ber how proud I felt of him as he sat at breakfast with me each day in my 
 father's house. I may say that an affection at once sprung up between us 
 more like that of father and son, and such as has rarely existed between 
 uncle and nephew. Losing my father not long afterwards, his house 
 became my home, and from that moment I was treated by him more like 
 his eldest son, and so continued for some forty years. — W. M. P.
 
 OVERTURES FROM MR. BUNX. 39 
 
 or the Fall of Tarquia, a performance of the most thrilling 
 character. 
 
 He then went to live at Devonport, and got into the lodgings 
 which had been occupied by Edmund Kean on his last visit 
 to that town. He gave five performances at the Devonport 
 Theatre, the scene of his earliest efforts, playing Hamlet for 
 his benefit. At that theatre were Mr. and Miss Woolgar, the 
 latter well known many years afterwards as one of the chief 
 attractions at the Adelphi Theatre. Mr. Woolgar was the lago, 
 Ghost, &c. Mr. Addison (also a native of Devonport), who was 
 afterwards at the Princess's and Drury Lane, played Marrall, 
 Adam Winterton, and Polonius. Whilst here, by permission of 
 the commanding officer, a drill-sergeant of the 32nd Regiment 
 put Phelps through a severe course of drilling every morning 
 for some weeks. At the Exeter and Plymouth theatres were 
 the Misses Mordaunt, sisters of the celebrated Mrs. Nisbett, 
 with whose family he became at once on terms of intimacy, 
 which afterwards ripened into friendship. They all had an 
 immense opinion of his abilities and powers.* 
 
 He had received overtures from Mr. Bunn to appear in the 
 autumn at Drury Lane ; but, having heard from Mrs. Nisbett 
 that Mr. Webster had taken the Haymarket Theatre, and not 
 caring to enter into any engagement by letter, he determined 
 to take a run up to town and see what was best to be done. 
 
 In the following passage it is better, perhaps, that the nephcAv 
 should speak in his own person. " I started with him one fine 
 summer's morning on the top of the Defiance stage-coach to 
 pay my first visit to the metropolis, and well do I remember 
 the following day, passing through the Strand at about 2.30 
 p.m., meeting the Lord Mayor and Corporation going in state to 
 present an address of congratulation to the Princess Victoria on 
 her having attained her majority. We passed through Temple 
 Bar, and pulled up at the corner of Bouverie Street, Fleet 
 Street, to go down to the Sussex Hotel, to which house he had 
 been recommended. 
 
 * One result of his intimacy witli tliat family was that he induced the . 
 second and third sons to study for the Law, the youngest, James, as a 
 solicitor, the eldest, Henry T. J., as a barrister. The latter was afterwards 
 for many years one of the three Railway Commissioners.
 
 40 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 "After attending to our toilets, and having had a short nap, 
 we dined, and then strolled up the streets into the Strand, 
 until it was time to go to Drury Lane Theatre to see Mr. 
 Bunn. This latter he did not accomplish, for reasons which 
 at this moment I do not remember ; but we got put into 
 the dress circle, and saw Taglioni and her brother Paul, with 
 Gilbert and Miss Ballin, in La S^dphide. 
 
 " The next morning he had as his vis-a-vis at the breakfast 
 table a fine, hearty-looking, elderly gentleman, with silver-grey 
 hair, who, it appeared afterwards, had got put at this particular 
 table for the express purpose of speaking to us. ' A very fine 
 day, gentlemen,' he said, to which we both assented, for the 
 sun was shining brightly. ' I believe I have the pleasure,' he 
 continued, 'of speaking to Mr. Phelps, and am proud to be 
 thus able to make the personal acquaintance of a gentleman to 
 whom I have listened with such great delight on very many 
 successive evenings during the past winter. I am Dr. Gibbs, 
 of Exeter, and was your fellow-traveller yesterday, but little 
 thought when I saw you on the top of the Defiance we 
 were so soon to be located under the same roof After' a 
 short conversation on things in general, the doctor said, ' As I 
 presume you are come to town professionally, may I ask what 
 your views are as to the future ? ' 
 
 " My uncle replied, ' I have come up with the intention of 
 making an arrangement with Mr. Bunn to appear at Drury 
 Lane in the autumn, unless Mr. Webster can make an opening 
 for me at the Haymarket after Macready's engagement is 
 brought to a close. But if nothing comes of either one or the 
 other, I have made up my mind to go to the United States.' 
 Upon which Dr. Gibbs said, ' If you go there, I can be of 
 some service to you. John Randolph Clay is my son-in-law,* 
 and it will afford me great pleasure to give you a letter to 
 him, and I'm sure he'll do all he can to assist you, and I 
 need not perhaps tell you he holds a very prominent position 
 in the Republic' 
 
 " This idea of going to America was never carried out, for 
 
 * Since writing this, Mr. Clay died at his residence in Kensington on 
 the 15th August, 1885. The Times gave an obituary notice of him.— 
 W. M. P.
 
 ENGAGED BY MR. WEBSTER. 41 
 
 immediately after this conversation we started for Denham 
 House, Hammersmitli, the residence of the Macnamara family, 
 and before leaving, Mrs. Nisbett gave him a letter of introduc- 
 tion to Mr. Webster as follows : — 
 
 '"Dear Mr. Webster, 
 
 ' Allow me to have the pleasure of introducing to you 
 my friend Mr. Phelps, a provincial tragedian of very great 
 talent and celebrity, and trusting the introduction may prove 
 mutually advantageous, 
 
 ' I am, dear Mr. Webster, 
 
 ' Truly yours, 
 
 'Louisa Cranstoun Nisbett.' 
 
 "Returning from Hammersmith, he took me to Hyde and 
 St. James's Parks to look at the outside of Buckingham and 
 St. James's Palaces, and the club-houses in Pall Mall, &c., &c., 
 and, though last not least in my estimation, to the Haymarket 
 Theatre and King's Opera House. After dining, and taking 
 later on our cup of tea, we went to the stage door of Covent 
 Garden Theatre to see Mr. Webster before he dressed for Lord 
 Sands, the character he was announced for in the bills of the 
 day, the play being the first three acts of Henry VIII., for 
 the benefit of Mr. Rodwell, the then musical director of the 
 theatre, Mr. Macready being Cardinal Wolsey, and Helen Faucit, 
 Queen Katharine. 
 
 " Mr. Webster said his fame had reached his ears before that 
 evening, and it gave him great pleasure to make his personal 
 acquaintance. Mr. Webster, it appeared, in his early days had 
 known some of our relatives at Bath, which knowledge at once 
 put them at ease one with the other. He also showed him a 
 critique of Mr, Wightwick's in the Flymouth Herald, in which 
 he said his performance of Richard III. was equal to Edmund 
 Kean's. 
 
 " In a few minutes, therefore, it was arranged that he should 
 make his d^hut at the Haymarket Theatre immediately on Mr. 
 Macready's engagement being concluded, in any chai-acter he 
 chose, the length of the engagement and salary to be determined 
 later on by letter. Asked if I sliould like to go in front, of 
 course I replied in the affirmative, and Phelps saw that night
 
 42 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 Macready act from the front of the hoicse for the first time auJ 
 the last ; not so his nephew, — he saw him many times in most 
 of his great characters during the following fourteen years. We 
 stayed in London something under three weeks, returning to 
 Plymouth by sea by one of the Dublin Steam Packet Company's 
 boats. My uncle had been all round our coasts, as well as 
 those of Scotland and Ireland, and was a pretty good sailor. 
 We had not long returned to Plymouth ere news came of 
 the death of William IV., and the accession of our present 
 Queen." 
 
 He went to Exeter for the Assize week, and played Werner 
 every night. Whilst in that city overtures were made to him 
 on behalf of Mr. Macready to appear in the autumn at Covent 
 Garden Theatre, which was to open under his management. 
 Preferring that gentleman to Mr. Bunn, he replied that further 
 on he might entertain the proposal, but for the present he con- 
 sidered himself bound to Mr. B. Webster for the Haymarket; 
 but that as his theatre might be only kept open for the summer 
 season, he jorobably would be in a better position to treat with 
 him after his next interview with that gentleman ; in the mean- 
 time he was going to fulfil an engagement at Southampton. 
 Mr. Macready himself replied to this letter, and said, if he would 
 let him know when he arrived at Southampton, a gentleman 
 on his behalf would see him there, and that before that date 
 he would endeavour to learn from Mr. Webster what his ideas as 
 to his campaign were. 
 
 We next find him at Southampton, going through a round of 
 his favourite characters, the theatre being under the manage- 
 ment of Mr. Shalders, father of William Shalders, who between 
 1850 and 1860 was a scenic artist of some distinction in 
 London. Mr. Shalders himself played all the second characters 
 in each piece, a,s he had done with Mr. Phelps his first five 
 nights in Plymouth. Whilst at Southampton, Mr. Macread}^ 
 instead of deputing some one else, went down himself to see 
 him act, and was so impressed that he determined to make 
 an engagement with him to appear at Covent Garden. With 
 that object he went round to the stage door and sent in a 
 note, and after a short interview, invited Mr. PheljDS to call 
 on him at his hotel. Why he was so very anxious to make
 
 ENGAGED BY MR. MACREADY. 43 
 
 an engagemeDt with Mr. PheliDS will appear a little further 
 on, and Macready's own diary to a great extent admits the 
 correctness of our views. The result of this interview was the 
 exchange of signatures between them for a three years' contract ; 
 and this is how Mr. Phelps refers to the circumstance in the 
 following letter to his wife : — 
 
 "Southampton, Tuesday, August 15th, 1837. 
 
 " My dearest Sarah, 
 
 " As I know you will be anxious to hear how I got on 
 last night, I lose no time in writing to you. Being here by 
 myself, and having nothing to do last week, I fretted myself 
 ill. Yesterday all day I was in such a state that I scarcely 
 knew what to do with myself I played as well as I could, but 
 I thought very badly. I did not know if any person was in the 
 house from London ; but at the end of The Iron Chest a note 
 was sent round to me from Macrcady, who had been there all 
 the time himself. I was with him last night for upwards of an 
 hour, and the result was I go to Co vent Garden on the 16th of 
 October. He wanted me to name my salary, which I declined 
 doing until I have played in London ; but at last I agreed to 
 take the same salary that I may agree for at the Haymarket — 
 which, if I succeed, I will take care shall be a good one, or I 
 will not go at all. 
 
 " Write and tell me how you are, and the dear children. I 
 hope you are better, and that Bob has not been worse. I fancy 
 all sorts of things. I will write to you again in a few days, and 
 let you know how long I shall be here, &c. 
 
 " My success here last night was very great, and Macready 
 said he thought I should succeed in London. 
 
 " Give my respects to Billy,* and all of them, and let Latnner 
 know how I am getting on. Write by return, my dear, and 
 believe me ever, 
 
 " Your most affectionate husband, 
 
 " S. Phelps." 
 
 This was the first and greatest mistake Mr. Phelps made with 
 respect to his future position and reputation, from the effects 
 of which it took him nearly seven years to recover. This 
 contract would not have been entered into by Mr. Phelps had 
 
 * The gentleiuan with wlioin tlioy were residing. — W. AI. P.
 
 44 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 not Mr. Macready assured him that he had Mr, Webster's 
 sanction for it, as that gentleman intended keeping the Hay- 
 market Theatre open only until the end of September or 
 beginning of October. Besides, he was himself engaged by 
 Mr, Macready for Covent Garden, All this Mr, Webster, 
 when Mr. Phelps arrived in town, denied ; but it is difficult 
 to believe that those assertions had not some foundation in 
 truth. At all events, between the two managers Mr. Phelps 
 suffered afterwards. 
 
 1837—1844. 
 
 On the 28th of August the Haymarket bills announced the 
 first appearance of Mr. Phelps from the Theatre Royal, Exeter, 
 in the character of Shylock. Miss Huddart was Portia. The 
 house was crammed from floor to ceiling, and contained among 
 the audience all the celebrities of the day. Pie was received 
 with acclamations, and went on receiving plaudit upon plaudit 
 until his final exit in the fourth act, when he was summoned' to 
 appear before the curtain, and was vociferously cheered. 
 
 There was no mistake about his success, or of its genuineness, 
 for he had no friends in front, to his knowledge. He had 
 brought to town with him letters to the critics on all the 
 principal papers, but he did not deliver one, as he was determined 
 to stand or fall upon his own merits. 
 
 The next day the Times in its criticism said : — " A new 
 candidate for the honours of the high drama appeared at this 
 theatre last night in the character of Shylock. He is, we 
 understand, from the Theatre Royal, Exeter, and, as the bills 
 averred, of very great provincial celebrity. The moment he 
 entered on the scene you could discern the practised actor 
 ripe for judgment, and he might have been certain of a 
 favourable award even from a Daniel. In his costume on 
 this occasion he wore a strange straw hat." It was a mis- 
 take about the hat — it certainly was a yellow one, and after 
 the design (as his entire dress was) given him by Colonel 
 Hamilton Smith at Plymouth, who was a great authority on 
 costumes.
 
 AT THE HAYMARKET. 45 
 
 The Morning Chronicle said : — " His representation of the 
 character was correct and judicious, but not remarkable or 
 striking. . . . Kean threw something of sublimity into the 
 character of Shvlock ; we felt as if an incarnate fiend stood 
 before us. Such an effect as this Mr. Phelps had no power to 
 produce. . . . He performed the trial scene very ably, and 
 gave great effect to several passages. . . . Upon the ivhole 
 Mr. Phelps's performance of this part is entitled to considerable 
 praise, and shows him to be a valuable acquisition to the London 
 stage. He was extremely well received." This critic was 
 rather premature in desiderating his lack of power, and made 
 no alloAvance for the nervousness of a first appearance in 
 London. Agitated as he naturally was, Mr. Phelps contented 
 himself with only trying to do what he succeeded in doing, viz., 
 working the character gradually up for a grand climax at its 
 close, rather than making an anti-climax in the third act, 
 which Kean did, and into this same habit Phelps himself after- 
 wards fell. 
 
 He had not a large black eye like Kean, but a grey ong of 
 fair dimensions, into which he could and did throw immense 
 expression. We cannot imagine anything more powerful than 
 Mr. Phelps's acting was in the scene with Salarino and Salanio, 
 and afterwards with Tubal when at Sadler's Wells. His con- 
 ception of the character was never exactly the same as Kean's, 
 and this will be made apparent in one of his own letters towards 
 the end of the volume. 
 
 His second character was Sir Edward Mortimer in The Iron 
 Chest, another of Kean's great characters, in which he was 
 again very successful. He had evidently risen in the estimation 
 of the press. The Times said : — " Nature has been liberal in 
 endowing him with a good figure, expressive features, and a 
 splendid voice. His talents are of a very high order." 
 • The elder Farren, who played Adam Winterton, said to him 
 before the rehearsal commenced, " Keep up your pluck, my boy, 
 and you'll be all right. Those wlio were acting with you in The 
 IMerchant of Venice told me you were so dreadfully nervous 
 the first night you could not do yourself justice; I wish I'd 
 been near you ; I was in front, however, and did what I could 
 for you tliere."
 
 46 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 Charles Selby, the author-actor, met him not long after at 
 Brighton, and on asking him what he thought of his friend 
 Mr. Phelps, the veteran (for such he was comparatively then) 
 said, " I consider he will soon prove himself the first tragedian 
 of the day." 
 
 His next character was Hamlet, followed by Othello.* He 
 played these four characters twice each, and Richard IH. four 
 times during his engagement. He rose in the estimation of his 
 critics by each performance, and he had evidently done the 
 same with his audience. 
 
 Mr. Webster's reply to a question put to him by Mrs. 
 Nisbett during the run of Richard sufficiently proves this. 
 "How is my friend Mr. Phelps getting on?" asked the lady. 
 "Filling my treasury, and I don't think a better proof could 
 be given of his success. I am only sorry I did not positively 
 secure his services for as long a period as I could avail myself 
 of them, instead of allowing another manager to profit by his 
 abilities." 
 
 Mr. Phelps now began to buckle on his armour in real 
 earnest ; for he had shortly to appear at Covent Garden and 
 measure swords with Mr, Macready. Venice Preserved was the 
 piece proposed for his opening night, to be followed by Othello 
 the following week. Mr. Macready gave him the choice of 
 characters in the first, saying at the same time he would play 
 lago to his Othello. Mr. Phelps chose Jaffier, somewhat to his 
 brother tragedian's surprise, who tried to dissuade him from it, 
 saying that if he would take his advice he would jjlay Pierre, 
 as he had always found that character went better with the 
 audience, and he wished him to have an opportunity of standing 
 well with them at once. 
 
 Mr. Phelps, however, stuck to his original intention, and said 
 he would only act Jaffier ; but at the same time thanked Mr. 
 Macready for what appeared very kind on his part, contrary to 
 what he had often heard of his nature. 
 
 His success in Jaffier was quite equal to anything he had 
 
 achieved at the Haymarket. Mr. Leman Rede said in the 
 
 Sunday Times : — " Mr. Phelps made his first appearance at this 
 
 theatre last week in the character of Jaffier, and we were rather 
 
 * Criticisms on these two performances will be found on pp. 61 and 62.
 
 AT COVENT GARDEN. 47 
 
 curious to see how be would succeed in the larger house; for it 
 is one thing to act at the Haymarket alone, and another to 
 stand on the boards of Covent Garden by the side of such a 
 great actor as Macready ; but Mr. Phelps went through the 
 ordeal manfully, and not only saved his distance, but came in 
 well Avitli him." He might have gone further and said, " neck 
 and neck." He came in, however, so well that Mr. Macready 
 would not act with him again in the same piece, but cast Mr. 
 Warde for Pierre on the repetition of the tragedy. 
 
 A few nights after Mr. Phelps appeared as Othello, and Mr. 
 Macready stuck to his original intention and played lago. Mr. 
 Phelps's success in this character was so great that it completely 
 did away with his having any further chance of showing the 
 public the full extent of his powers during the period he was 
 under engagement to the man to whom he had now become a 
 dangerous rival. From that night he was, in theatrical parlance, 
 shelved. Macready either kept him from acting altogether, or 
 offered him second-rate characters. Of course to this latter 
 Mr. Phelps would not consent; for, as Edmund Kean once 
 told the proprietors of Drury Lane, when asked to perform 
 Joseph Surface, he had been accustomed to the first walk of 
 the drama, and he would either appear in leading characters 
 or none at all. 
 
 It is true when he looked over his contract he saw he had 
 agreed to do anything he was called on to do ; but then he 
 never dreamed Mr. Macready would have asked him to act 
 other than the principal or one of two principal characters in 
 a piece. 
 
 He offered to throw up the engagement, but the only terms 
 on which Macready would consent to do this were, that he 
 should agree, under penalty, not to act again in London during 
 the term he was under enjjafjement to him, but to 2fo into the 
 provinces again. This of course he would not think of: it would 
 have been a tacit admission on his part that his (Uhut had been 
 a failure instead of the great success it had been universally 
 acknowledged. , 
 
 Finding that nothing would move Macready, he took Sir 
 William Follett's opinion as to his being able to compel his 
 manager to cancel the engagement or to bring him out in leading
 
 48 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 cliaracters two or three evenings a week ; but that eminent 
 advocate told him that he had been rather silly in signing the 
 document he did, and that Macready had got him as fast as he 
 could possibly wish, and could make him go on for anything he 
 chose. He was then cast for Macduff, and although he did not 
 refuse to play it, he and his manager were at daggers drawn 
 from that moment. His performance of Macduff, however, which 
 he played every Monday night for some four months after- 
 wards, instead of lowering him in the estimation of the public, 
 had an exactly contrary effect ; for, although on the first night 
 or two he did not attempt to act, but merely walked through 
 the part, he afterwards threw his whole soul so entirely into 
 the few scenes in which the worthy Thane of Fife appears, 
 that he made the character stand out, as some thought, even 
 beyond Macready's Macbeth. At all events it was the talk of 
 all play-goers for years afterwards. 
 
 After this he was cast for a night or tAvo as Rob Roy, a 
 character that Macready had originally played himself, and, as 
 it were, made his own, Mrs. Warner playing Helen McGregor. 
 The only other characters he personated at Covent Garden in the 
 season 1837-8 were, the First Lord in As You Like It; Cassius 
 in Julius Csesar, in which he made a great hit, so much so that 
 it was only j^layed two nights; Dumont in Jane Shore, one 
 night ; Adrastus in Ion, another hit, one night. The season 
 1888-9 he opened by playing Leonatus Posthumus for two 
 nights, Vandenhoff playing lachimo, his first appearance under 
 the management ; the First ■ Lord in As You Like. It, four 
 nights ; Dumont in Jane Shore, three nights, Macready being 
 Hastings, and Vandenhoff the Duke of Gloucester; Macduff, 
 five nights ; Antonio in The Tempest, fifty-five nights ; Father 
 Joseph in Richelieu, thirty-seven nights — in this he made 
 a great success also ; and wound up the season by playing 
 Charles d'Albret, High Constable of France, in Henry V., 
 twenty-one nights. 
 
 Thus ended his first engagement under Macready. It had 
 had the desired effect, as far as Macready was concerned, for 
 it had placed Phelps in a very different position to what he 
 would have held had he continued at the Haymarket. 
 
 Having a family to support, consisting of a wife and four
 
 AT THE HAYMARKET. 49 
 
 children,"'^ he had to take what offered. His only alternative 
 was to go to America, and against this his wife set her face, 
 unless they could all have gone together, a thing impossible at 
 the time. 
 
 The Haymarket was the only house now open to him, and 
 there he went. Mr. Webster continued then to put the names 
 of the principal members of his company at the top of the bills, 
 and on his first night they ran as follows : — 
 
 First appearance this season of the eminent tragedian, 
 
 Mn. MACEEADY. 
 First appearance of Mr. PHELPS 
 
 AND 
 
 Miss HELEN FAUCIT. 
 
 Macready played Othello, Mr. Phelps lago, Helen Faucit 
 Desdemona ; and on the following Monday Mr. Phelps played 
 Othello, and Mr. Macready lago. It was understood that they 
 were to go on alternating these two characters, but his success 
 in Othello was so emphatic that Macready persuaded the man- 
 agement to have the piece immediately withdrawn. There 
 was a touch of animus in the promptness with which Mr. 
 Webster acceded to the eminent tragedian's request ; for by so 
 doing he pleased Macready, and at the same time punished 
 Phelps for going to Covent Garden so soon as he did, contrary, 
 as he said, to the terms of their agreement. 
 
 The Weekly Dispatch of that period said that Mr, Phelps 
 was as superior to Mr. Macready as Othello, as Mr. Macready 
 was to Mr. Cooper as lago ; and John A. Heraud, author 
 of several plays and poems, afterwards for many years the 
 dramatic critic of the Athericeurn, and Illustrated London News 
 in a publication called the Sunbeam, and the New Monthly 
 Magazine, of which he was for a time editor, said, at the 
 end of a very long criticism, " We have hitherto on the whole 
 given the preference to Macready's Othello, to that of the elder 
 Kean, but we are now convinced that the Othello of Mr. 
 Phelps is the Othello of Shakespeare." Other criticisms were 
 
 * Durint? tliis period — say 1P3R — his second son, Edmund, was born, at 
 98, Albany Street, liegeut's Park. 
 
 B
 
 50 ■ LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 equally laudatory, and led to the general belief that Mr. Webster 
 would see that it was to his own interest to give him opportunities 
 of again asserting his rightful position; but all he did up to 
 Christmas of 1839 was to cast him for Master Walter in The 
 Hunchback, and Jaques in As You Like It, with Ellen Tree 
 in the principal female characters. 
 
 Phelps saw plainly now the only remedy was to bide his time, 
 which he felt would come some day, as Macready himself had. 
 often told him it would at Covent Garden. " Your time 
 must come," said he, " but I am not going to try to hasten it. 
 I was kept back by Young and Keaa, and you will have to 
 wait for me." 
 
 In the winter Phelps went to Drury Lane under Mr. Ham- 
 mond's management, which turned out a failure, notwithstanding 
 Mr. Macready, Mr. Elton, Mrs. Warner, and Helen Faucit were 
 of the company. He was about to appear as King Lear and 
 Virginius when the house was suddenly closed. He again went 
 to the Haymarket, which in the summer of 1840 numbered 
 in its company — besides himself — Macready, Helen Faucit and 
 Mrs. Warner, Charles Kean and Ellen Tree, James Wallack 
 and Mrs. Glover. The first thing that made any stir was Werner 
 Macready (of course) playing Werner, Wallack Ulric, and he 
 himself Gabor, the character that Vandenhoff had played with 
 Macready and Wallack at Drury Lane. He was very successful 
 in Gabor, and frequently the curtain rose on Macready and 
 Mrs. Warner, and on Wallack as Ulric, with hardly any recog- 
 nition by the audience, whereas, when Phelps appeared, he was 
 received with a good round of applause. 
 
 The next character that he had a chance of doing anything 
 with was Old Dornton, in The Road to Ruin, which play was 
 produced with a cast which had never been surpassed, and 
 has not been equalled since. He was eminently successful, 
 and this in a principal character of a range in which the 
 elder Farren was then considered to be without a rival. Well 
 does his nephew remember the first representation and the 
 effect he produced. James Wallack frequently for many years 
 fter said that he had seen one Old Dornton in his life and 
 only one, and that Mr. Phelps's performance would not be 
 effaced from his memory as long as he lived.
 
 AT THE HAYMARKET. h) 
 
 In the month of November Mr. Macready lost his daughter 
 and during the week that he did not act, Mr. Phelps played 
 lago two nights, Wallack being the Othello ; Jaques two nights, 
 Helen Faucit being Rosalind, and Walter Lacy Orlando ; Joseph 
 Surface two nights, Wallack being Charles. Money was then 
 produced, and ran eighty nights, during which period he did not 
 appear. 
 
 During the latter part of 1840 a prospectus for private circu- 
 lation was published by several dramatic authors to elicit opinions 
 on the feasibility of opening Drury Lane Theatre for the purpose 
 pf producing new plays — their own, of course, more especially. 
 Mr. Phelps was communicated with, and it was arranged that he 
 should have a moneyed interest in the undertaking to the extent 
 of £500, and his services were to be specially retained as the 
 leading tragedian. If they succeeded in getting the theatre, 
 they had been promised, through the Hon. George Anson, 
 the highest patronage of the Court. This was very nearly 
 being carried into effect ; but some person connected with the 
 theatre communicated what was going on to Mr. Macready, who 
 said, " That shall not be; " and he at once put himself in com- 
 munication with the committee of the theatre in such a way 
 as led them to drop the authors' proposal, at all events while 
 there was a chance of his becoming lessee. It resulted in his 
 taking it. 
 
 Phelps again opened at the Haymarket somewhere about 
 Easter in 1841, playing with Charles Kean, Wallack, and Ellen 
 Tree, all kinds of characters, some not better than third-rate. 
 He was at last cast for Friar Laurence in Romeo and Juliet, 
 which he said he would not act, and that he would sooner throw 
 up his engagement — which was only one by word of mouth for 
 three years, at an annually advancing salary.* 
 
 Then came his celebrated letter to the Spectator, describing 
 Mr. Webster's treatment of him. Among others there occurred 
 the following passage : — " As a constant reader of your paper, 
 
 * On my goin;^ for liis salary on llic Saturday morning (wliicli I frequpnlly 
 received), I was told by old Mr. Carter, the treasurer (of many years' 
 Ptanding), to tell him that he had been fined £30 for refusing to act 
 Friar Laurence, but that it would not be enforced, as Mr. Webster 
 accept (■(] his ofTi.T to leave the theatre. — W. jM. P. 
 
 U 2
 
 52 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 and admiring its excellent criticisms on the arts, and particularly 
 that of my own profession, the stage, I think it only just to 
 the public to let them know through your columns the cause of 
 my having ceased to be a member of the Haymarket company. 
 I was cast for the character of Friar Laurence in the approach- 
 ing performance of Romeo and Juliet, which I refused to act, 
 not because I think the character beneath my abilities, or indeed 
 those of any actor living or dead, but because I have lately been 
 cast for the Friar Laurence of every piece, which was contrary 
 to my understanding with Mr. Webster Avhen I entered into my 
 present engagement with him. My position in his system has 
 been only that of a satellite. Still I have acted Othello with Mr, 
 Macready, Macduff with Mr. Kean, the Hunchback and Jaques 
 with Miss Tree, and Old Dornton with Mr. Wallack, on each 
 and all of which occasions the public has, to say the least of it, 
 been extremely indulgent, which has led frequently to a request 
 on my part to be allowed to shine by ray own light. He has as 
 frequently acknowledged in his opinion my ability to do so, but 
 as frequently has desired me to wait. I am now thrown out of 
 an engagement until the winter theatres open." 
 
 The editor's remarks on this letter were of a highly com- 
 plimentary kind. 
 
 It was not very long after, however, before one of the authors 
 already referred to, Mr. George Stephens, then a man of con- 
 siderable means, and the author of The Manuscripts of ErcUly, 
 from which he had written a tragedy called The Patriot, 
 conceived the idea of having it put on the stage with the 
 introduction of songs, thereby evading the Act which precluded 
 such from being produced at other than the Patent Theatres. 
 With this object the Lyceum Theatre was taken for two 
 months. Here Martinuzzi (which The Patriot was called in its 
 acting edition) was produced under Mr. Phelps's superintendence 
 and stage management. He himself played the great Cardinal, 
 Elton the Lover, Mrs. Warner the Queen-Mother Isabella, 
 and Miss Maywood the Young Queen. It was played every 
 night of the week with great success ; his own performance 
 and that of his friend Mrs. Warner being described as two 
 as fine pieces of acting as the modern stage had seen. Many 
 of Mr. Macready's own friends and admirers complimented
 
 KE-ENGAGEMENT WITH MACREADY. 53 
 
 Mr. Phelps highly both by letter and by word of mouth on 
 his fine acting and stage management. Mr. Stephens himself 
 was more than satisfied.* 
 
 His next important step was to re-engage with Mr. ]\lacready 
 for three years during the latter's management of Drury 
 Lane. During this engagement they came to know each other 
 better, and a fast friendship ensued, which was only severed by 
 death.f 
 
 He now went into the provinces for a time, and, prior to 
 appearing at Drury Lane, lie accepted a starring engagement 
 at the Surrey, and acted Lucius Junius Brutus, King Lear, 
 Virginius, and other characters, with great success. The Sun, 
 speaking of his performance of the first-named character, 
 said : — 
 
 * This poor man, I may here state, lost the whole of a large fortune in 
 the Railway panic of 1845, only four years afterwards. — \V. M. P. 
 
 f One fine morning during the run of Martinuzzi, I was walking in the 
 grounds surrounding Rose Cottage, which lay between the King's Road, 
 Chelsea, and the river, where he resided for nearly four years, when I saw 
 a gentleman standing at the gate demanding admittance of the servant 
 who had answered the bell. I immediately went forward to ask his 
 business, when I found him to be neither more nor less than Thomas James 
 Serle, who I had heard was to be Mr. Macready's acting manager during 
 the coming campaign. I took him into the drawing-room, and told my uncle 
 his presence was required by a friend, without saying who it was. To myself 
 I said, " He has come to try and wheedle tiie governor (as I called him) into 
 joining Macready again, but he won't if I can help it" (I may say J was 
 Btill very wrath with Mr. ]\Iacready for his treatment of Mr. Phelps at 
 Covent Garden, as well as several times afterwards at the Haymarket). 
 "He shall sooner go to America," I said, "if nothing is to be done at 
 Covent Garden." From the manageress of that theatre he had received 
 overtures to act in the event of her again opening it. The interview lasted a 
 considerable time, and at the close I saw that Serle had succeeded, for he 
 spoke and looked like a satisfied man. I was immediately joined by my 
 uncle, who told me he should go to Drur}' Lane, that Serle had been com- 
 missioned by Macready to offer him such terms to fill the position for which 
 VaiidenliofE had been s;;eciaZ/i/ engaged the second season at Covent Garden, 
 viz. always A2, and occasionally Ai, that, with his family, myself among 
 the number, he could not refuse. I endeavoured to dissuade him from it 
 as strongly as I could, saying I was quite sure all he would get out of such 
 an engagement would be a repetition of the Covent Garden one. However, 
 he thongiit otherwise, and although his wife joiued with me, he soon signed 
 and sealed. — W. M. P.
 
 54 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 " Mr. Phelps commenced an engagement here for a limited 
 number of nifrhts last evening, and chose the character of 
 Lucius Junius Brutus, in Howard Payne's tragedy of Brutus, 
 for his ddhut before a Surrey audience. This character Avas 
 "written expressly for the late Edmund Kean, then in the zenith 
 of his fame, and in the full enjoyment of all his energies, and 
 Kean at once made it his own. Since his death the tragedy 
 has seldom been produced, the stage possessing no actor quali-' 
 fied to represent the arduous character of Brutus. This reason, 
 however, no longer exists. Mr. Phelps is an excellent repre- 
 sentative of Brutus. Since the days of Kean there has been 
 no Brutus at all approaching Mr, Phelps. His oration over 
 the dead body of Lucretia was beautifully given, his warm 
 and natural style of eloquence contrasting most favourably 
 with the monotonous syllabic declamation to which of late we 
 have been too much accustomed. The whole of the two last 
 acts was magnificent; from the first expression of horrible 
 suspicion that his son may be a criminal, in the fourth act, 
 to the fearful condemnation of that guilty son, at the conclusion 
 of the fifth, when the stern duty of the patriot has been 
 fulfilled to the letter, the Roman becomes humane, and the 
 Consul softens into the man and the father — all was given 
 with a truthfulness to nature which stamps Mr. Phelps as 
 an actor of high genius. We hope frequently to see him in 
 impassioned characters such as this, which give full scope for 
 the exhibition of the play of the feelings. He was called for 
 at the fall of the curtain, and loudly applauded." 
 
 He now prepared for the opening of Drury Lane, and got 
 up the words of Shylock, which he had not acted since his 
 d4but in 1837, in the event of Macready not getting off his 
 engagement at the Haymarket, but promised, if he did, to 
 play Antonio, the merchant, so as to strengthen the cast. 
 Macready icas let off by Webster, so he himself played 
 Shylock. 
 
 During his first season at Drury Lane he acted with great 
 success Antonio, for fifteen nights; Stukely in The Gamester, 
 five nights ; the Ghost in Hamlet, four nights ; Macdufl', eight 
 nights; lago, one night; Pierre in Venice Preserved, three 
 nights, and other characters.
 
 AT DRURY LANE. 55* 
 
 The second season he played Adam in As You Like It,; 
 twenty-two nights ; Belarius in Cymbeline, four nights ; Stukely,. 
 one night; Ghost in Hamlet, six nights; Gloucester in Jane 
 Shore, one night; Cassius, three nights; Major Oakley in The 
 Jealous Wife, one night; Hubert in King John, twenty-six 
 nights ; Colonel Damas in the Lady of Lyons, twelve nights ; 
 Macduff, ten nights ; Leonato in Much Ado about Nothing, 
 twelve nights; lago, eleven nights; Lord Lvnterne in The 
 Patrician's Daughter, eleven nights ; Dentatus in Virginius, two' 
 nights ; Gabor in Werner, two nights ; Old Dornton in The 
 Road to Ruin, two nights; and Lord Treshara in The Blot in 
 the 'Scutcheon, three nights, and other characters. On his 
 performance of the principal character in Mr. Browning's play, 
 the Era and the Morning Post said as follows : — 
 
 " The manner in which the play was acted reflects the 
 highest credit on the Drury Lane company, and the absence 
 of Mr. Macready from the cast was as little regretted as it 
 possibly could be. Phelps, who performed the brother, was 
 fearfully effective in his impersonation of the angry and 
 agonized patrician, who shrinks from the fear of the blot upon- 
 his 'scutcheon. In the great scene in which he detects the 
 lurking lover, and, drafjcjinfj him out into the liwht, taunts him 
 till he draws his sword, — although he will not name himself, 
 or uncover his face, — the actor was powerful, and almost terrific. 
 The passion of his rage reminded us vividly of Edmund Kean, 
 and such praise is no common comjjliment." 
 
 " In the acting of the drama it was generally very excellent. 
 Phelps took the part which Macready would otherwise have 
 acted, and if we missed a little of that refinement which carries 
 the latter actor so triumphantly through his blotchy manner- 
 isms, it is due to Mr. Phelps to say that in other respects he 
 gave a singular passion and power to the proud brother, which 
 we believe could have been shown by no other actor than 
 himself. The whirlwind of rage and hate Avith which he 
 compels Mertoun to draw were terribly true. The whole soul 
 — its love, its masculine sense, and its reason — seemed lost in 
 the madness of the moment ; and each savage phrase was 
 thrown out with a lightning-like rapidity and violence from 
 the cloud and storm of his passion, that brought the reality
 
 56 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 and fear of that dark and momentary insanity singularly home 
 to the listeners. His utterance of these lines was admirable : 
 
 " ' Ha, ha I what should I 
 Know of your ways? A miscreant like yourself— 
 How must one rouse his ire ? — A blow ? — that's ^a^reat 
 No doubt, to him ! one spurns him, does one not? 
 Or sets the foot upon his mouth — or spits 
 Into his face — come — which, or all of these ? ' 
 
 *'The actor was forgotten in the terrible truth of his fiery 
 utterance. His hearers felt passion had given that hour to 
 the devil, and recognized in the certainty of Mertoun's death 
 that the unravelling of the tangled love and guilt was one of 
 blood and crime. Equally fine was the manner in which the 
 man-slayer suffered tlie madness of his guilt to subside when 
 the lover of his sister lay dying at his feet. And as an isolated 
 beauty, still earlier in the drama, we may mark the tone in 
 which loathing, and affection, and disbelief were struggling as 
 he bade Mildred 'not to lean upon him,' after he has heard 
 from his retainer Gerard the tale which involves her dishonour. 
 At the conclusion Mr. Phelps was vociferously called for." 
 
 Nothing can prove more strongly than the two foregoing 
 criticisms how very successful he was in the delineation of 
 Tresham, and how much he was like Edmund Kean, at that 
 time at all events, in his fine bursts of passion and energy. 
 
 Another great hit he made during this second season of 
 Macready's management was in the character of Hubert, in 
 which he showed an unrivalled power of exhibiting fine manly 
 pathos. The Times and Morning Fust spoke of him in this 
 part as follows : — 
 
 "Phelps was an admirable Hubert, an actor with more 
 manly pathos than any on the stage ; ' he managed his pathos 
 with great skill. The silent dejection when first Arthur was 
 confided to his care was a presage of coming ill ; the heavings 
 of the heart while he strove to be stern to the innocent child, 
 showed the increasing struggle which was going on, till at last 
 all resolved itself into the burst of tears at the words, ' I will 
 not touch thine eyes,' which was the most powerful appeal to 
 the sympathies of the audience throughout the piece." 
 
 " As Hubert is the finest character in the poet's conception, so
 
 HIS ALMAGRO AT THE HAYMARKET. 57 
 
 was it acted with the most consistent power. The range of act- 
 ing open to Phelps is limited, but in that range we know none 
 who touch him. His apparent roughness is like the guarled 
 trunk of an old oak — the mark of real strength. He is one of 
 the few living men who touch our hearts, and this, not by loud 
 words and hurried delivery and strong tones (although his 
 strength is plentiful), but by the genial under-current of living 
 feeling which is ever leaping and throbbing under the surface of 
 his acting. He calls forth a tear by the only magic that can do 
 so — the strong persuasion that his grief or passion is actually 
 grappling with the very roots of his own heart." 
 
 His performance was the talk not only of the town, but of the 
 Court; for Her Majesty and the Prince Consort saw him in this 
 character, and by command of the Queen he afterwards sat to 
 Sir William Ross for his portrait as Hubert. Mr. Macready told 
 him that he considered his acting of the character was one of 
 the very finest things he had ever seen. 
 
 The Spectator paid him a very high compliment on his acting 
 of tlie character of Lord Lynterne in the Patrician's Daughter, 
 and amongst other things said "he looked the proud old patri- 
 cian to the life, and moved and spoke more like a man who had 
 moved in the higher grades of society than any other person in 
 the piece." 
 
 Between the two Drury Lane seasons, in the summer of 1842, 
 he went to the Haymarket, principally to act with Mr. and Mrs. 
 Charles Kean in a new play by Sheridan Knowles, entitled The 
 Rose of Arragon; and by his performance of Almagro in that 
 piece (a part written especially for him, as those for the Keans 
 were also) he added another garland to his renown. The critics 
 all spoke very highly of it ; indeed, he so completely threw his 
 friends above referred to into the shade that they, as soon as 
 they could with decency, cried j^cccavimus, and went on the 
 Continent for the benefit of their liealth. Leman Rede in the 
 Sunday Times said, "The interest of the third act rests entirely 
 on his shoulders, and bravely has he achieved his work. 
 His scene with Cortez and Nunez, where, under the disguise 
 of friend.ship, he endeavours to undermine Alasco's credit with 
 the people, was as magnificent a piece of acting as we ever 
 beheld." Douglas Jerrold in Punch headed a short paragraj)!!,
 
 58 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 An unusual piece of Liberality, and then said, " Mr. Phelps on the 
 stage of the Haymarket Theatre publicly presented Mr. Charles 
 Kean last evening with a very handsome silver extinguisher." 
 
 He also received the following letter respecting this perform- 
 ance : — 
 
 " 28, Burton Street, Tavistock Square, 
 bth June, 1842. 
 
 " My dear Sir, 
 
 " I am commissioned to communicate to you the pleasing 
 intelligence that I had the agreeable duty of returning thanks 
 for you at Mr. Dow's celebration of Mr. Knowles's triumph, in 
 the shape of a supper to some thirty or forty guests after the 
 representation of the play last night. I am charged to express 
 to you their sense of the ability with which you supported the 
 part of Almagro, thereby contributing in an extraordinary degree 
 to the success of the play. I perform an official duty in making 
 this communication ; my own heart, however, as well as my 
 hand, goes along with the duty, and makes it a great pleasure. 
 Believe me, my dear sir, 
 
 " Yours most sincerely, 
 
 " John A. Heraud." . 
 
 After the departure of the Keans, he j^layed several of his 
 favourite characters, amongst them Sir Giles Overreach (the elder 
 Farren playing Marrall), and Duke Aranza in the Honeymoon, 
 the first times before a London audience. At the end of August 
 that year he also acted a few nights at the Plymouth Theatre, 
 and on his performance of Sir Giles Overreach, the Dcvowport 
 Indc^nndcnt had the following : — 
 
 " This is the first time M-r. Phelps has gratified his numerous 
 friends in this quarter of the globe with his presence since his 
 engagement at the Plymouth Theatre in 1837. He has now 
 passed the trying ordeal of a London audience, and by the 
 services of several seasons has proved himself — and the voice of 
 criticism establishes the proof — a tragedian second to none now 
 on the boards. His performance of the sordid, mammon-wor- 
 shipping hero of Massinger's truthful play, was, in reality, a 
 splendid piece of acting. From the moment of his entrance, in 
 the second act, until the final exhaustion of physical and mental 
 faculty, by the frustration of his villainous speculations, in the last 
 act, he bore the impress of an actor gifted with real intellectual
 
 MACREADYS LIBERALITY. r,9 
 
 powers, and fully capable of realizing the conceptions of the 
 author. The Sir Giles of Mr. Phelps, we do not hesitate to 
 pronounce the most perfect tlie stage can now produce. What 
 could exceed the oily, smoothed-faced manner with which he 
 confided his purpose, to grind the poor man to his nefarious will, 
 to his creature Marrall. His interview with his daughter, 
 where he reveals that he would have her 'right honourable' — 
 aye, even at the expense of that which to a pure mind is most 
 dear, honour — was finely executed, and the manner in which 
 he delivered those few lines of caution to his daughter, lest her 
 modest inadvertence 'might spoil all,' we shall never forget. In 
 the last act, Mr. Phelps was electrical ! — never since the days of 
 Edmund Kean was effect produced so harrowing to mind and 
 body as we witnessed in the convulsive throes of this demon of 
 avarice and ambition in his struggles to obtain the mastery over 
 his conscience. He would be forced to 'Hell like to himself;' 
 and when he lay a stiffened corse at the feet of his daughter — 
 the child whom he would have slain in the impotence of rage — ■ 
 the audience seemed relieved from the existence of a monster, 
 and by their loud and long-continued plaudits, afforded a double 
 compliment to the talented tragedian. At the conclusion of the 
 play, Mr. Phelps was loudly called for, nor would the delighted 
 auditory cease their importunities until they had again and 
 again assured him that his efforts had proved triumphantly 
 successful." 
 
 At the close of Mr. Macready's management of Drury Lane, 
 which only lasted two seasons, as it had at Covent Garden 
 before, he presented Mr. Phelps with a cheque for three 
 hundred guineas (which, with what he made by his benefit, put 
 £10 a week on his salary for the time the theatre had been 
 open, from December 1841 to June 1843), saying, he wished lie 
 could have doubled it, as a slight recognition of his appreciation 
 of the handsome and noble manner in which Mr. Phelps had 
 as.sisted him to make the cast of several plays as strong as they 
 possibly could be. 
 
 Mr. Phelps had voluntarily offered to play parts which would 
 have been cast to Warde, the elder Farren, and Bartley, if they 
 had been in the theatre, in addition to those which Vandcnhoff 
 would have played, and for which he was specially engaged.
 
 60 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 Mr. Macready offered him afterwards a very handsome share 
 of what might be made by their both going to America, if he 
 would go with him, and alternate such characters as Brutus and 
 Cassius, Othello and lago, Jaffier and Pierre, &c., &c. ; but his 
 wife here exerted her powers, and said, " No, you have at last got 
 free from Mr. Macready, and if you want to go to America, stay 
 until after he has returned, and go relying on your own merits." 
 
 In the autumn of 1843 Henry Wallack opened Covent 
 Garden Theatre, and engaged Mr. Phelps, Mr. Vandenhoff, and 
 Mr. Anderson to appear in a new play of Mr. Boucicault's, and 
 several plays of Shakespeare's, which had three good characters 
 in each, which they were to alternate. But the thing was done 
 in a hurry, and if Mr. Macready 's management did not succeed, 
 it was not very probable that Mr. Wallack's would. It did not, 
 and the house was soon closed. Phelps went then to Bath for a 
 time with Mrs. Warner and Anderson, and on his performance 
 there of lago, the Bath Herald said : — 
 
 " We cannot, we think, even though we be charged with 
 indulging in fulsome adulation, too highly extol the matchless 
 performance of Mr. Phelps as the double-faced lago. We have 
 seen many attempt this character, but never did we see it so 
 inimitably sustained as on this occasion. It was not merely that 
 the text was delivered with correctness and fluency, or that his 
 look and attitude were in perfect keeping with the part — there 
 was something even more, which we find it difficult to describe, 
 but which many who were present could not, we think, but have 
 been forcibly struck with. We mean the inimitable manner in 
 ■which he identified himself with the character, so that from the 
 very first moment he appeared on the stage, until his exit in 
 the last scene, the illusion was so admirably kept up, that the 
 spectator only saw before him the hypocritical, cold-blooded, 
 and remorseless villain; indeed, so strongly impressed was this 
 idea upon the mind, that when Othello stabs him, a feeling of 
 delight (if we may so express ourselves) thrilled the bosoms of 
 many present. We have never heard more enthusiastic applause 
 greet any actor than was so frequently showered upon Mr. 
 Phelps, there being on more than one occasion three distinct 
 rounds." 
 
 After this engagement was concluded, he went a round of the
 
 FIRST APPEARANCE AS HAMLET. 61 
 
 principal provincial theatres during the winter, but was mostly 
 at Liverpool for several weeks at a time, under the manage- 
 ment of Mr. Malone Raymond at the Liver (Vandenhoff being 
 at the Royal). He played Lear for one whole week together, and 
 Macbeth likewise. He also acted Hotspur, Ford in The Merry 
 Wives of Windsor, and for the last time in his life Romeo.* 
 
 The following criticism on his first appearance in Hamlet 
 appeared in one of the morning papers : — 
 
 Haymarket Theatre. 
 
 " Last night Mr. Phelps, of whom we have already made favourable 
 mention, appeared for the first time in the character of Hamlet — the 
 most arduous in the whole range of the drama, inasmuch as the royal 
 and philosophic Dane is not only expected to exhibit in his own 
 person ' the glass of fashion and the mould of form,' but to illustrate 
 by Ids own example the rules which he has himself laid down for the 
 players' especial observance. In these respects INfr. Phelps proved 
 himself a skilful navigator, escaping both Scylla and Charybdis, being 
 never ' too tame,' or ever ' o'erstepping the modesty of nature ' in his 
 delineation of the part, but fidly sustaining by it the reputation which 
 he had acquired by his previous performances. That he has maturely 
 studied the character is evident, from the perfect ease and self-posses- 
 sion Avhich his representation throughout evinced ; and if in some 
 cases he did not quite carry out his conceptions, a repetition of the 
 performance will enable him to do so, backed as the present was by 
 the general approbation of a Avell-filled house. The scenes in which 
 we thought him best were his first interview with the Ghost, in which 
 there were some slight but natural deviations from the accustomed 
 practice of his predecessors ; in the play scene, in which he received 
 very great applause ; and lastly, in that Avith the grave-digger. The 
 interview in Ids mother's closet was well conceived, and, indeed, well 
 acted, but neither so powerfully or so effectively as we are persuaded 
 he will make it upon repetition. In person, deportment, and action, 
 ^Ir. Phelps will bear comparison with any whom we have seen assume 
 the royal Dane, and, like all of them, he seems in age to exceed the 
 assigned limit. His features are handsome and flexible ; his voice is 
 of good quality, of various tone, and of considerable compass ; and, 
 what is most remarkal^Ie, without being at all a copy of any, he 
 occasionally reminds you, either in voice or feature, of Macready, 
 Vandenhoff, Kean, &c." 
 
 _ ■ 
 
 * I was present at this performance, and than the impassioned parts 
 notliiiig could have been finer. lie admitted himself lie never conld feel 
 the love scenes, and preferred performing Mercutio, which was certainly 
 one of his finest high Comedy parts, equal, I have been told by competent 
 judges, to Charles Kemble's. — W. M. P.
 
 ?2 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 In the Theatrical Olscrver of September 15, 1837, appeared 
 the following criticism on his first appearance in Othello : — 
 
 Hatmarket Theatre. 
 
 " The tragedy of Othello Avas acted at this theatre, last night, that 
 Mr. Phelps might appear in another new character, that of the noble 
 ^loor. In speaking of his performance of this difficnlt part, Ave might 
 observe that as ni his previous efforts, there was much to admire, and 
 but little to cavil at ; he is certainly an actor of considerable judgment, 
 and the perfect ease and self-possession he displayed in his represent- 
 ation of Othello, evinced that he had maturely studied the character. 
 He discovered no new and unlooked-for excellences in the part (nor 
 did we expect he would), but there were repeated bursts of feeling and 
 energy, which were highly effective, and elicited great applause." 
 
 The two following, in which Mr. Phelps's name occurs, are 
 examples of what provincial play-bills were half a century 
 ago :— 
 
 THEATRE ROYAL, YORK. 
 
 Mr. Butler respectfully informs the Public, that an arrangement 
 having been entered into with the Trustees, the Theatre will 
 
 Re-Open on Monday Evening, April 19, 1830, 
 
 For the remainder of the usual Season, when will be performed 
 Addison's admired Tragedy (not acted here for 25 years) of 
 
 CATO, 
 
 TBE ROMAN PATRIOT. 
 
 Cato Mr. Butler 
 
 Lucius Mr. Hall 
 
 Porcius ... ... Mr. Young 
 
 iSempronius ... Mr. Eobson 
 
 Marcius Mr. Shaw 
 
 Decius Mr. Andrews 
 
 Juba Mr. Phelps 
 
 Syphax ... Mr. Henderson 
 Junius ... Mr. Dearlove 
 
 Titus ... Mr. W. Remington 
 
 Senators, Messrs. Wilson, Grieves, 
 
 &c. — Soldiers, Citizens, &c. &c. 
 jMarcia ... Miss Stanfield 
 Lucia ... Mrs. Angel 
 
 A COMIC SONG, BY Mr. ANGEL. 
 The whole tw conclude with (2nd time) the admired ]\Ielo-Drama of 
 
 THE SOMNAMBULIST; 
 
 OR, THE PHANTOM OF THE VILLAGE. 
 
 M. de Rosambert, Col. of Musketeers, Seigneur of Village ... Mr. Phelps,
 
 EARLY PLAY-BILLS. 
 
 (>3 
 
 THE ATE E EOYAL, PEESTOK 
 
 For the benefit of Mr. PHELPS. 
 
 On Monday Evening, July 22nd, 1832, 
 
 Will be performed the celebrated Play taken from Sir Walter 
 Scott's beautiful Eomance called 
 
 lYANHOE ; 
 
 OB, THE JEW OF YORK! 
 
 NORMANS. 
 
 Lucas de Beaumanior (Grand Master of the Templars) ... Mr. Grainger 
 
 Sir Brian He Buis Guilbert Mr. Cullen 
 
 Sir Reginald Front de Boeuf Mr. Maddocks 
 
 Sir Maurice de Bracey ... Mr. Fisher Prior Aymer ... Mr. Reid 
 
 Knights Templars, &c. &c. 
 
 SAXONS. 
 
 Cedric of Rotherwood Mr. Saunders — Ivanhoe Mr. Watkins Burroughs 
 Unknown Knight Mr. Bowes — Wamba (Cedric's Jester) Mr. Hudspeth 
 
 Gurth (Cedric's Swine-herd) Mr. Cooper 
 
 Lady Rowina (Ward to Cedric) Miss Cooper 
 
 yirica (a wild Saxon Woman) INIrs. HuGGiNS 
 
 Elgiva ... Mrs. Cooper Alicia ... Miss Dugan 
 
 Robin Hood ... Mr. Penn 
 Midge the Miller ... 
 
 Lsaac of York 
 Rehecca (his Daughter) 
 
 OUTLAWS. 
 Friar Tuck 
 
 JEWS. 
 
 Mr. Grainger 
 Mr. Phillips 
 
 Mr. Phelps 
 Mrs. Watkins Burroughs 
 
 A COMIC SONG BY Mr. HUDSPETH. 
 
 PAS-DE-DEUX BY Miss DUGAN and Master SAUNDERS. 
 
 To conclude with tlie interesting Melo-Drama called 
 
 THE FALLS OF CLYDE: 
 
 OR, 'HIE GVPSIE'S haunt I 
 
 Donald (a Scotch Piper) Mr. Phelps.
 
 HIS CAREEE AT THE THEATRE ROYAL, 
 SADLER'S WELLS. 
 
 1844—1845. 
 
 It was shortly after the close of his last engagement at Liver- 
 pool, in the spring of 1844, that he conceived the idea, with his 
 friend Mrs. Warner, of becoming, jointly with Mr. T. L, Green- 
 wood and her husband, lessee of the Theatre Royal, Sadler's 
 Wells, which was opened under the management of Mrs. Warner 
 and Mr. Phelps, the latter being stage manager, on the Whit 
 Monday of that year. 
 
 Mr. Phelps now commenced his great life-work, which was to 
 continue for over eighteen years, and in these eighteen years he 
 put, as Tom Taylor said after his death, a whole life. 
 
 The following address was issued : — 
 
 " Mrs. Warner and Mr. Phelps have embarked in the manage- 
 ment and performance of Sadler's Wells Theatre in the hope of 
 eventually rendering it what a theatre ought to be — a place for 
 justly representing the works of our great dramatic poets. This 
 undertaking is commenced at a time when the stages which have 
 been exclusively called ' National ' are closed, or devoted to very 
 different objects from that of presenting the real drama of 
 England, and when the law has placed all theatres upon an 
 equal footing of security and respectability, leaving no difference 
 except in the object and conduct of the management. These 
 circumstances justify the notion that e'ach separate division of 
 our immense metropolis, with its 2,000,000 of inhabitants, may 
 have its own well-conducted theatre within a reasonable distance 
 of the homes of its patrons. 
 
 " For the North of London, they offer an entertainment selected
 
 ADDEESS BY THE MAXAGEMENT. 65 
 
 from the first stock drama in the world, reinforced by such 
 novelties as can be procured by diligence and liberality, intend- 
 ing that the quality of their novelties will constantly improve, 
 as time will be given to procure and prepare them ; and a 
 compoMy of acknowledged talent, playing such characters as 
 they must be called upon to sustain at Drury Lane and Covent 
 Garden, were those houses now devoted to the drama. 
 
 " The attractions are placed in a theatre where all can see and 
 hear at a price fairly within the habitual means of all. 
 
 " They commence under the disadvantage of very short prepar- 
 ation, and they are aware that some errors and deficiencies are 
 inseparable from such a circumstance ; they trust that their 
 names are a sufficient guarantee for the honest endeavour to 
 deserve further patronage, and they promise that the trust of 
 the public and its encouragement shall be met by continual zeal 
 and liberality, increasing constantly with the means of showing 
 it. They will endeavour to confirm what may be found satis- 
 factory, supply what may be at first deficient, and above all, 
 exalt the entertainments to meet the good taste of the audience. 
 Stage Manager, Mr. Phelps ; Acting Manager, Mr. T. L. Green- 
 wood ; Treasurer, Mr. Warner." 
 
 The opening performance was Macbeth, thus cast in the 
 principal characters : — 
 
 Macbeth Mr. Phelps. 
 
 Banquo Mr. H. Lacey. 
 
 Macduff Mr. H. Marston. 
 
 Rosse Mr. Aldridge. 
 
 Si ward Mr. Graham. 
 
 Lady Macbeth Mrs. Warner. 
 
 Hecate Mr. Clement White. 
 
 C Mr. Forman, 
 The three Witches 4 Mr. Wilson, and 
 
 ( Mr. Morelli. 
 First and Second ) J Miss Lebatt, and 
 
 Singing Witches J ( ]\Iiss Emma Harding. 
 
 In the course of the evening an occasional address written by 
 Thomas James Serle was spoken by Mrs. Warner. 
 
 The theatre was crammed to suffocation, and the following 
 notice ajjpeared in the Athenccum : — 
 
 F
 
 66 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 " The announcement that we made last week will sufficiently 
 explain the unwonted circumstance of our noticing either the 
 ' doings or pretences ' of this almost forgotten theatre. The 
 altered state of the law permits now the legal performance of 
 the five-act drama everywhere, so that the distinction between 
 major and minor is legally abolished, and, to quote the bills, 
 ' has placed all theatres upon an equal footing of security and 
 respectability, leaving no difference, except in the object and 
 conduct of the managements.' Law, therefore, has done what 
 law could do, and that is, in the present instance, undone all 
 that it had previously done. Law is needed to explain and 
 repeal law; and for the latter purpose is especially needed 
 where monopoly affects the progress of art. There is a relation, 
 however, in the present subject which law cannot touch. 
 
 " Society may have outgrown the drama — and by many it is 
 suspected that such is actually the case in England. The last 
 accounts from America also say, that although Mr. Macready 
 is playing to crowded audiences at the Park Theatre, they are 
 not fashionable ones. It is something that there crowded 
 audiences, though not fashionable, are possible. Here, on the 
 contrary, all classes have long ceased to crowd the theatre to 
 witness the legitimate drama. Opera and ballet still have their 
 votaries, and Mr. Bunn has this week received a testimonial, as 
 it is called, for revivifying Old Drury by their means ; and now 
 that Old Drury has in effect no exclusive patent, the proprietors 
 have a right to make it profitable by any and every legal and 
 moral means. 
 
 " Not alone Old Drury, however, but every other theatre more 
 or less connected with the West End of London has pursued 
 the same course, and the receipts have proved that the managers 
 were right in doing so. The present time, then, declares against 
 Shakespeare and legitimists ; nevertheless, there is always some- 
 where an outlying portion of the poimlation to which amuse- 
 ments, voted vulgar or obsolete by the more refined, are yet the 
 best they can afford or enjoy. A lord's cast-off clothes will 
 make a gentleman of the Sunday operative. Among 2,000,000 
 of inlmbitants the metropolis must have somewhere a population 
 too remote, by reason either of condition or situation, from 
 fashionable influences to be entitled to despise 'the ruder
 
 CRITICISM OF THE ATHEN.EUM. 67 
 
 sports' in which our flithers delighted. It had been frequently- 
 suspected that the neighbourhood of Islington and Pentonville 
 contained many such old-fashioned people, from the fact of the 
 theatre there being ahva.ys profitably conducted, and sometimes 
 succeeding with the Shakespearean drama, even when under legal 
 interdict. But the locale was despised by high caste actors, as 
 well as high caste admirers. Destiny has at length found there 
 the only theatre in which the persecuted drama could find 
 refuge ; and Mrs. Warner and Mr. Phelps — two among the best 
 tragic performers now in London — have been glad to make it 
 their asylum. 
 
 " On Monday last they produced Macbeth, with new scenery, 
 and got it up certainly in a style which elicited audible ex- 
 clamations of astonishment from the usual visitors in the boxes. 
 Such, too, was the curiosity excited, that it Avas necessary to pile 
 up elevated forms in the lobbies for the literally overflowing 
 audience, where, we conjecture, they could see little and hear 
 less. Mrs. Warner enacted the part of Lady Macbeth with 
 great care and force./ Mr. Phelps we have never seen before in 
 Macbeth, and it was certainly the ablest performance in which 
 he has yet exhibited. Since Edmund Kean's we have seen 
 nothing better for vigour and vivid effect. It is essentially 
 distinct from, and stands in contrast with Mr. Macready's, 
 which, however fine and classical in its conception, is but too 
 obviously open to the Scotch sneer of presenting 'a very 
 respectable gentleman in considerable difficulties,' so studied is 
 it in all its parts, and subdued into commonplace by too much 
 artifice ; fretfulness, moreover, substituting high passion in the 
 fifth act. The straightforward and right earnest energy of Mr. 
 Piielps's acting, on the contrary, made all present contemplate 
 the business as one of seriousness and reality ; while the occa- 
 sional pathos of his declamation thrilled the heart within many 
 a rude bosom with unwonted emotion. The spectators were 
 visibly agitated, and incapable of resisting the impulse."] 
 
 Macbeth was acted for an entire Aveek. On the following 
 Monday, 3rd June, Othello was produced, and also acted for a 
 week with tlio same success: Piielps being the Moor; Henry 
 Marston, lago ; Hudson, Cassio ; and John Webster, Rodorigo. 
 Miss Cooper was Desderaona, and Mrs. Warner played Einilia. 
 
 V 2
 
 68 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 Monday, 10th June, The Stranger was acted, Phelps jDlaying 
 the Stranger (ever a fine performance with him), and Mrs. 
 Warner Mrs. Haller. 
 
 Thursday, 13th June, The Jealous Wife. Mr. Oakley, Mr. 
 Phelps ; Major Oakley, Henry Marston ; and Mrs. Oakley, Mrs. 
 Warner. 
 
 On the 17th June he played Werner for the first time in 
 London, and with great success. Further on will be found 
 several criticisms on his performance of this character, in which 
 lie rivalled Macready in the opinion of most play -goers, notwith- 
 standing it was one in which his predecessor particularly shone. 
 This was also played for an entire week. 
 
 On 24th June he appeared, for the first time since his first 
 appearance at the Haymarket, in the character of Shylock, 
 H. Marston playing Bassanio, and Hudson, Gratiano ; Mrs. 
 Warner again appearing as Portia. 
 
 On 27th June The School for Scandal was produced, and he 
 played Sir Peter Teazle for the first time in London, Marston 
 playing Joseph Surface, and Hudson, Charles ; Mrs. Warner, 
 Lady Teazle. 
 
 On 1st July he produced and acted Virginius, Hudson playing 
 Icilius, and Marston, Dentatus ; Miss Cooper, Virginia, 
 
 On 18th July he did The Rivals, playing Sir Anthony Absolute, 
 also for the first time in London ; and on 29th July for the first 
 time Hamlet, be himself being Hamlet; Marston, the Ghost; 
 George Bennett, the King; A. Younge, Polonius; and Mrs. 
 Warner, the Queen. 
 
 On August 9th The Wife, by Sheridan Knowles, was produced. 
 He played Julian St. Pierre ; Marston, Leonardo Gonzago ; and 
 George Bennett, Ferrado Gonzago ; Mrs. Warner, Mariana. 
 
 On the 21st August he acted, for the first time, Macready's 
 great character of Melantius in The Bridal, which was then and 
 ever after one of his very finest performances. Mrs. Warner 
 was Evadne ; Miss Cooper, Aspatia ; and Marston, Amintor. 
 
 On 19th September he acted Sir Giles Overreach in A New 
 Way to Pay Old Debts, for the first time under his own manage- 
 ment. Marston was Welborn, and A. Younge, Marrall ; Margaret, 
 Miss Cooper. 
 
 On 30th September he produced King John, he himself
 
 FIRST SEASON'S PEODUCTIOXS. 69 
 
 playing John ; George Bennett, Hubert ; Marston, Faulcon- 
 bridge ; Mrs. Warner, Constance. 
 
 On 30th October he produced Massinger's City Madam, and 
 played Luke Frugal for the first time, Mrs. Warner playing 
 Lady Frugal. 
 
 On 13th November, Bulwer Lytton's play of The Lady of 
 Lj^ons, Phelps appearing as Claude Melnotte, a character 
 that, in the course of a few years, he performed for over 
 one hundred nights. 
 
 On loth November, The Wonder, he playing Don Felix ; 
 Jane Mordaunt, Mrs. Nisbett's sister, being the Donna Violante. 
 
 On 30th January, 1845, he brought out a new play by T. J. 
 Serle, entitled The Priest's Daughter, in which he himself, 
 Marston, and Mrs. Warner jjerformed the principal characters. 
 
 On 20th February he produced for the first time Richard IIL^ 
 and from the text of Shakespeare in lieu of the Colley Cibber 
 edition, which had so long held possession of the stage. He 
 played Richard; Marston, Clarence; George Bennett, Buck- 
 ingham ; John Webster, Richmond ; and Mrs. Warner, Queen 
 Margaret. 
 
 On 27th March he played for his own benefit Rover in Wild 
 Oats, and Nicholas Flam in Buckstone's ^jc^i^e comedy of that 
 name. 
 
 On 3rd April he acted Frank Heartall in The Soldier's 
 Daughter, and Nicholas Flam for Mr. Greenwood's benefit; and 
 on the 7th he acted Sir Edward Mortimer in The Iron Chest; 
 and on 10th of same month, for the first time, Cardinal Wolsey 
 for the benefit of Mrs. Warner, she herself playing Queen 
 Katharine. 
 
 Thus closed his first season of management. The theatre 
 had been open for two hundred and sixty-two nights, com- 
 mencing 27th May, 1844-, and closing on 10th April, 1845. 
 Ninety-seven pieces had been represented,* viz. twenty-six first 
 pieces and seventy-one after pieces. Eight pieces had been 
 Shakespeare's. 
 
 * The Bridal was played tliirty nights ; Hamlet, thirty-three nightfl ; 
 Lady of Lyons, thirty-six nights ; Richard IIL, twenty-four nights ; City 
 Madam, sixteen niglits ; King John, eighteen nights ; Othello, ten nights ; 
 Macbeth, fourteen nights.
 
 70 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 Annexed are a few of the criticisms which have been pre- 
 served on his acting of some of the foregoing characters, as 
 well as on his productions of the several plays as a manager. 
 
 On The City Madam, Jonas Levy, in Lloyd's WccJdy News23aper, 
 said : — 
 
 " Massinger's play of The City Madam has been produced at this 
 theatre. It was originally produced at the Blackfriars about 1632, 
 and was revived for the third or fourth time in 1814, under the 
 title of Eiches, or Wife and Mother, for the purpose of exhibiting the 
 extraordinary powers of Ivean in the character of Luke ; but it was 
 played for a few nights only. Eiches has been played once or twice 
 since that period, Mr. Macready sustaining the principal character,, 
 but he failed to create any great impression ; and now the management 
 of Sadler's Wells have produced not Eiches, but The City Madam, 
 and it must be confessed that whoever may be the adapter, he lias 
 shown considerable taste and judgment in what he has done. Suffice 
 it to say, that the principal character, Luke, is not a natural one ; he 
 is more of a mask than a human being. His hypocrisy and cringing 
 servility are carried to a point at which they disgust ; everything 
 manly is so completely effaced in him that the interest of the author 
 is lost, Mr. Phelps's performance of the part was excellent ; he gave 
 it an effect that did not belong to it, and raised it to assume an import- 
 ance which it scarcely merited. Some of his transitions were as happy 
 and as striking as we ever witnessed in any stage performance ; the 
 crawling, abject spirit and the soft fellow-feeling of the humble 
 petitioner were ably given. His delighted, dream-like amazement, 
 when informed of Sir John's death, and that he had left him the 
 whole of his fortune, was remarkably fine ; and his triumph on find- 
 ing Lady Frugal and her daughters entirely in his power was 
 magnificent." 
 
 The Times said : — 
 
 " Phelps, who played Luke, shines in masculine pathos. iS^o one 
 can better convey the notion of a stern, rugged nature broken unwill- 
 ingly into grief. The most orthodox venerator of original texts 
 would scarcely fail to be moved at the genuine affection with which 
 he embraced his niece ; and the character generally was exceedingly 
 well played. His reading is that of one who has carefully and judi- 
 ciously studied the bearing of his words. His intercession for the poor 
 debtors before his brother, Sir John Frugal, was an excellent specimen 
 of eloquence. The house was quite full, and the audience was such 
 an one as a dramatist ought to delight in. The hearty applause which 
 followed the conclusion showed that they had heartily appreciated all 
 they had heard and seen. There seems to be no doubt that the 
 experiment of planting the poetical drama in the North of Loudon has 
 proved perfectly successful."
 
 FIRST SEASON, 1844-1845. 71 
 
 On Hamlet the Weekly Dispatch : — 
 
 " The arduous part of the Prince was sustained by IMr. Phelps, Avho 
 strongly gave indication that he had not undertaken the task without 
 a deep appreciation of the character. In several scenes he evinced 
 great judgment, and made several successful points that excited general 
 admiration. Hamlet's interview with Horatio, previously to the mock 
 play, was full of interest and correct discrimination : — the anguish of 
 mind imder the consitleration that he was destined by ' a voice from the 
 tomb ' to fultil a deed of revenge was well conveyed, and the great 
 sohloquy terminating in these words, 
 
 ' The play's the thing 
 "Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king ! ' 
 
 denoted Mr. Phelps's intimate kno-wledge of Haudet's character. Great 
 energy was also displayed in the remarkable ebullition of feeling that 
 takes place after the discovery of the Kinrfs guilt ; in short, so admir- 
 ably was this conceived, that Mr. Phelps in his acting gave to us the 
 true meaning of the poet, it being in this part of the drama where a 
 waywardness of thought has led many to the suspicion that the mind 
 of Haudet was unhinged — in fact, that he is described by IShakespeare, 
 here and throuiihout, as labouring under somethin*' more than a feigned 
 insanity. The play is altogether well got up, the scenery is superb 
 and finely adapted. The house was crowded, and never did we witness 
 an audience where intensity of feeling so universally prevailed. We 
 understand that this noble tragedy w^ll be performed twice or thrice 
 every week for some time to come." 
 
 On King John the same paper said : — 
 
 " King John has been produced with much effect, and great credit 
 is due to the manager for the excellent manner in which it is put on 
 the stage, the accuracy of costume, and the cast of the different parts. 
 Mr. Phelps's conception and acting in the character of King John 
 deserves the highest praise." 
 
 The Critic (newspaper) : — 
 
 " Of Phelps we have always entertained the very highest opinion. 
 He has more real gpinuK in him than any actor of our time, and it is 
 now making itself manifest. He was kept down by the overbearing 
 power of ]\Iacready ; but not disadvantageously, for all the while he 
 was gathering strength and acquiring a mastery of his high art, the 
 fruits of which are now ripening. A small theatre is the true test of 
 an actor's genius. Tricks won't do there, all must be genuine ; and 
 therefore it is that really great actors are always greatest and the most 
 enjfiyaljle where they are the centre upon which eye and ear are 
 absorbed, unattracted by aught about them. It gives us pleasure to 
 see our favourite not only asserting his genius, but finding it acknow- 
 ledged ; and while we tender him every good wish, we venture to 
 entreat him to continue to study as lie has hitherto done, and to be
 
 72 LIFE-WOEK OF PHELPS. 
 
 content with nothing less than the station that is certainly within his 
 reach. The last play produced, at this theatre is King John, and it 
 has been brought out with a magnificence that would have done no 
 discredit to Drury Lane. Phelps's personation of the monarch is 
 extremely fine, but he must beware lest he unconsciously act Macready's 
 instead of his own conception of the character. Mrs. Warner's Constance 
 is magnificent. It is scarcely necessary to add an earnest recommend- 
 ation to all lovers of the drama to enjoy the treat of a visit to Sadler's 
 Wells. It is ample reward for a ride of any distance ; we trust, 
 however, that it being now proved not only that there is genius to 
 embody the British drama, but an audience to appreciate it, they to 
 whom belongs the merit of having elicited the talent and the good taste 
 that were declared to be departed, will remove to some theatre more 
 central, but not much larger, where they may hope, not in vain, nightly 
 to gather round them the intellect of this metropolis." 
 
 The Observer: — 
 
 " There seems but a poor chance of Macready returning to the 
 metropolis as an actor, imless, as was suggested some months ago, he 
 agam take upon himself the management of Covent Garden Theatre ; 
 and in the meantime Phelps may be said to be usurping some of his 
 great parts at Sadler's Wells, and with so much applause, public 
 patronage, and success, as to lead many persons to consider him no 
 insignificant rival. We are heartily glad that the talents for which 
 we have always given him credit have thus had room to display them- 
 selves, which perhaps they never would have had if he had not em- 
 barked with Mrs. Warner in an experiment which could only have 
 answered by the exertion of extraordinary ability by both. As long 
 as they can continue to attract such houses as at present reward their 
 labours, they need look for no other professional employment." 
 
 The John Bidl :— 
 
 *'We feel conscious that the excellent company now established at 
 this theatre have not received from us, nor indeed from the press 
 generally, the degree of attention to which they are justly entitled. 
 Through the sagacity with which Mr. Phelps and Mrs. AVarner dis- 
 cerned the probable success of an enterprise which most people 
 regarded as hopeless, and through the energy and talent with Avhich 
 they have prosecuted it, they have achieved complete, substantial, and, 
 to all appearance, permanent success. They have converted a place 
 of entertainment, in a remote part of London, which formerly was 
 dedicated to spectacle and buff'oonery, and in our day had derived its 
 renown solely from tlie exploits (wonderful in their way) of Grimaldi 
 the clown, into a home for the Tragic Muse — a home, too, not unwortliy 
 of her, ejected as she has been from the gorgeous palaces which she 
 once occupied. They have confirmed and illustrated the truth of an 
 observation frequently made, that the respectable portion of the
 
 FIRST SEASON, 1844—1845. 
 
 middle class of society form the most serious, the most attentive, and 
 most strongly interested audience of a lofty and classical dramatic per- 
 formance. And last, though not least, they are raising tlie moral tone 
 of the stage, by showing that the audiences of the small theatres do not 
 require to be attracted by monstrous melodramas. For what they have 
 done, and are doing, ]\Ir. Phelps and Mrs. Warner w^ell deserve the 
 support of the public ; and we are gratified to see that they receive it. 
 
 " Since the commencement of the season this company have acted 
 several of the best plays of Shakespeare, particularly Hamlet and 
 King John ; they have revived Beaumont and Fletcher's tragedy. The 
 Bridal, with an effect equal to that which it produced at the Hay- 
 market, Mrs. Warner (as before) playing the part of Evadne, and Mr. 
 Phelps the character formerly sustained by Macready ; they have like- 
 wise revived Massinger's powerful play The City Madam, which, under 
 the title of Eiches, was first made known to the modern public by 
 Kean ; and lastly, they have now produced the best of Bulwer's plays, 
 The Lady of Lyons. In the revival of The City Madam, a change is 
 made in the denuuement, which, we think, is injudicious as well as 
 uncalled for. The sudden revolution in the character of Luke strikes 
 us as forced and unnatural. The play, however, is admirably acted, 
 and produces a great effect. Mrs. Warner's Lady Frugal is a per- 
 formance of very considerable merit. The conception of the charac- 
 ter is just and ably executed. Her transition from the haughty, 
 imperious Avoman to the humble and abject suppliant is beautiful, 
 and evinces the skill of a consummate actress. Phelps's Luke, too, is 
 excellent both in conception and execution. He is, however, occa- 
 sionally a little too violent, ditt'ering in this respect from Kean's 
 performance of the part, who produced his most terrible eft'ects by the 
 expression of deep and concentrated passion. 
 
 " In speaking of The Lady of Lyons as the best of Bulwer's plays, we 
 do not imply admiration of his dramatic genius. Its subject is 
 borrowed from several sources, particularly The Honeymoon ; and it 
 has its share of the author's characteristic faults of affectation and 
 mannerism. Nevertheless, on the stage it is both entertaining and 
 interesting, and in the two principal characters — the proud beauty and 
 her inijtassioned lover — it affords great scope for histrionic talent. 
 Both these characters were very finely performed by Mrs. Warner and 
 !Mr. Phelps ; and the powers of the performers were evinced by the 
 deep impression they made on the audifuce. The effect of this play 
 (and the remark may be extended to all the plays represented at this 
 theatre) is much increased by the general quality of the performance. 
 The coiii])any does not (like many others) consist of a star or two and 
 a heap of ruljljish ; ])ut its meiulx-rs are adequate to the jiarts allotted 
 to them, and perform them with intelligence and verisimilitude. On 
 Wednesday evening, when we saw Tiie Lady of Lyons, the theatre, 
 notwithstanding the state of the weather, was crowded iu every part ; 
 and this, we understand, is generally the case."
 
 74 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 On Richard III. the News of the World said : — 
 
 " The name of Shakespeare has lost none of its attraction. If any 
 doubt remained, it must have been removed by the sight of the vast 
 audience collected on Thursday night to witness the representation 
 of King Itichard III., ' with the restoration of the original text.' 
 From the proscenium to the back wall there was a sea of human faces, 
 the very backs of the box lobbies being lined with seats for the 
 accommodation of the spectators, and every nook and corner from 
 which a glimpse of the stage could be seen, occupied by anxious 
 visitors. It was a gratifying sight to behold so much interest taken 
 in the restoration of a great dramatic work, for it disproves the foolish 
 notion that the public taste for exalted productions of art is dead, or 
 perverted ; and it also must have been cheering to the manager, who 
 had been unsparmg in the exercise of his talents, his industry, and 
 his capital in the production of the play ; having an enduring faith 
 in the power of Shakespeare's genius. The play has been placed on 
 the stage with remarkable care and attention ; the records of antiquity 
 appear to have been searched for authorities in costume, scenery, and 
 manners ; and while the stage arrangements are wisely kept subordinate 
 to the play itself, they yet constitute an admirable representation of 
 the habits and customs in Court life and City life of the time. Cheap- 
 side, with a view of which the play opens, the ancient palace architec- 
 ture, the Tower, and Baynard's Castle, with approach of London's 
 Mayor by water, are extremely picturesque scenes ; and the last act 
 presents a succession of etfects, striking not less by their natural 
 simplicity than by then- dramatic excellence. Instead of the continual 
 changing of scene and running about of parties, first to one tune and 
 then to another, which has hitherto been the practice according to the 
 directions of Cibber, and which has always brought to our mind the 
 rival booths at a fair, the action takes place as it has been described by 
 Shakespeare. Richmond is observed marching onward with his army ; 
 and then we are carried to Bos worth Field, where the tent is literally 
 set up in the presence of the audience. On the other side of the brook 
 that divided the contending armies Richmond's tent is then raised, 
 and the constant movement of leaders of the two forces, the variety 
 of costumes and banners, and the earnestness of every actor employed, 
 constitute a picture of remarkable perfection. N^ight having closed in 
 with a kind of diorauiic effect, two cressets are planted at the entrance 
 of Richard's tent, which throw a faint light over the forepart of the 
 scene ; whilst in the background the ghosts of Clarence, Lady Anne, 
 the Princes, and Buckingham are advanced between the two tents by 
 some ingenious process, but so far only as to be dimly visible to the 
 audience ; this partial obscurity, and the deep stillness that is pre- 
 served on the stage, just allow the imagination to j^lay without over- 
 exciting it ; and the effect is extremely good. The dawn of morning 
 is accompanied with the distant hum of preparation, then the faint roU 
 of drums is heard mingling with the bugle call, and increasing with
 
 FIKST SEASON, 1844—1845. 75 
 
 the impatience of the troops. The fight and final struggle of Eichard 
 and Eichmond were represented so vividly and impressively, that at 
 the faU of Eichard the conclusion of the piece was delayed by the 
 continued shouts of the audience. 
 
 " The Eichard III. of Shakespeare is a different play to the Eichard 
 III. -svhich (honoured Avith the name of Shakespeare) has for many 
 years held possession of the stage. The argument that has prevailed 
 in favour of CoUey Gibber's version is, that Shakespeare's play is 
 undramatic. "Whether this argument be good or not is for the public 
 now to determine. They have the original text, with such alterations 
 only as were necessary either to reduce the play within acting length, 
 or obviate some otherwise insurmountable difficulty. We -refer to the 
 second act. In lieu of two scenes with the Duchess of York and the 
 children of Clarence in one place, and with the child of Edward in 
 another, and a third scene with some citizens, the subject of their 
 discourse is worked into a conference between Gloster, Buckingham, 
 and Hastings, &c., after King Edward is carried out dying ; Avhen 
 Gloster somids his doubtful friends as to the probability of their 
 assisting him in his attempt to obtain the crown. A scene after the 
 retirement of Edward, and the reappearance of the Queen lamenting 
 his death, was necessary ; and it is a matter for discussion whether 
 the scene thus arranged has been conceived in a becoming spirit, and 
 executed with due reverence for the great author. The whole of the 
 language employed being adapted from other parts of the play, may 
 be urged in its favour. This is the only alteration of great importance ; 
 in other places compression only is observed, with occasionally the 
 introduction of a few lines (Shakespeare's) to conclude an act or make 
 a graceful exit. 
 
 " The acting was good throughout, extraordinary pains having 
 evidently been taken to impress upon actors of even the smallest parts 
 tlie necessity for careful action ; by such means an even tone and 
 character Avere secured. Mr. Phelps's conception of the part of Gloster 
 is in accordance with the text, — he does not make the King's brother 
 a coarse and brawling assassin, shouting his thoughts at street corners, 
 and throwing himself into galvanistic fits when under more than 
 ordinary excitement. He emijodies the suljtle, bold, designing villain, 
 whose triumphs are won as much by artifice as fraud. The scene with 
 Lady Anne (impressively played by ]\Iiss Jane IVlordaunt), the Council 
 scene, where he denounces Hastings, the sounding of Ikickingham as 
 to the murder of the princes, the engagement of Tyrrell to do the 
 l)loody work, and the whole of the fifth act, M'cre marked by the actor's 
 discrimination and jjower. The death-struggle was terrilic. Mrs. 
 AN'arner's tragic powers are well adaptetl for the character of Queen 
 Margaret, and the impression which this able actress made in the 
 dcHvery of its tremendous })assion was great. King Edward was 
 represented by Mr. AV'ard witli good sense ami i)ro})]iety. Clarence 
 found an able representative in Mr. II. Marston, and George Bennett 
 was good in Buckingham."
 
 76 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 On The Bridal the Morning Sun said : — 
 
 " The legitimate drama, like persons in a decline, seems to have been 
 quite renovated by a return to a locality in which it was nurtured 
 during the days of its youthful vigour ; and Sadler's Wells, under the 
 management of Phelps and ]\Irs. Warner in the days of Queen Victoria, 
 bids fair to rival what the Fortune Theatre (situated in the same 
 district) was in the days of Queen Elizabeth, under the management 
 of Philip Henslowe and Edward Alleyne. Night after night is Sadler's 
 Wells crowded by a most respectable and highly attentive audience, 
 to witness the masterpieces of Shakespeare and our glorious dramatists, 
 performed as they can now be performed at no other theatre in London. 
 Since the commencement of the season the company has numbered 
 amongst its members Phelps, Mrs. Warner, Miss Cooper, Marston, 
 Hudson, and John Webster, and more recently George Bennett has 
 joined them, and Sadler's Wells can now boast of the most complete 
 tragedy company that could, by possibility, at the present moment be 
 assembled within the walls of any metropolitan theatre. The audience 
 part of the theatre has been newly fitted up, and the arrangements for 
 the accommodation of the visitors to the boxes, which are under the 
 superintendence of our old friend Notter, are admirable. The tragedy 
 of The Bridal, which was performed some few years since at Covent 
 Garden, was produced here last evening with the most brilliant and 
 most deserved success. It is an adaptation by Sheridan Knowles of 
 Beaumont and Fletcher's Maid's Tragedy. This play, one of the most 
 powerful and poetical conceptions that ever was penned, and which is 
 inferior only to the creations of Shakespeare, was laid aside at the 
 Eestoration, because it was considered to smack somewhat too strongly 
 of disloyalty ; and Waller, who adapted it to the stage, attempted to 
 render it fit for representation by altering the denouement , and making 
 the king repent, instead of falling by the hand of Evadne. But the 
 graceful but feeble Waller was no match for the masculine vigour of 
 Beaumont, who is generally considered to have had the principal hand 
 in writing this tragedy. They were as ill-assorted as Amintor and 
 Evadne. ■ Waller's alterations were soon forgotten, and the tragedy 
 again ceased to be an acting play. About four years since it was 
 revived by Macready, who intrusted Sheridan Knowles with the task 
 of adapting it for representation. The task could not have been 
 confided to fitter hands. Possessing the same heartiness of feelmg, the 
 same vigour of thought, the same vein of poetry as Beaumont himself, 
 Knowles set about his labour of love — for to him it must have 
 been a labour of love — in the true spirit : he has cut out a great deal 
 which would not be tolerated on the stage in these days, and has added 
 three scenes, but so thoroughly has he been imbued with Beaumont's 
 spirit, and so artistically has he introduced his new matter, that a 
 spectator who had never read the original would be puzzled to discover 
 where the alterations had been made. The cast last night was very 
 strong. We had Phelps as Melantius, Marston as Amintor, G. Bennett
 
 SECOND SEASON, 1845—1846. 77 
 
 as the King, Mrs. ^Varner as Evadne, and Miss Cooper as Aspatia. 
 Phelps, as Melantius, looked and acted the honourable, high-minded, 
 courageous, but injured soldier to the life. There was an intensity in 
 his acting in the scene Tvith Amintor, in which the latter discloses to 
 him the "cause of his sorrow, that told most effectively ; and in the 
 scene Avith Evadne, in which he taxes her Avith her guilt, and makes 
 her swear to be revenged, he was quite appalling. We know of no 
 lady on the stage who could have personated the haughty Evadne so 
 to the life as Mrs. Warner did. In the scenes with Melantius she was 
 magnificent. We never saw Marston to greater advantage than in the 
 character of Amintor. He seems to have made this line of character 
 com})letely his own. George Bennett, as the King, did that which he 
 has so often done before — made a second-rate character of first-rate 
 importance by his excellent acting. Miss Cooper had but little to do as 
 Aspatia, but that little was performed beautifully. Take it altogether, 
 we know not when we have seen a tragedy acted so admirably as a 
 -n-hole — there was not a weak point in it. The costumes were magnifi- 
 cent and appropriate, and the play altogether was put upon the stage 
 with the greatest attention. The applause was enthusiastic at the fall 
 of the curtain, and Phelps and Mrs. Warner were called for and 
 received with the customary honours. The house was crowded to 
 euffocation in every part." 
 
 1845—1846. 
 
 The second season commenced on 12th May, 1845, with 
 Henry VIII., in which Phelps played Cardinal Wolsey ; G. 
 Bennett, the King ; Marston, Buckingham.; A. Younge, Lord 
 Sands; and Mrs. Warner, Queen Katharine. 
 
 On loth Every One has his Fault was acted, with Marston 
 and Mrs. Warner in the principal characters. 
 
 On 19th William Tell was done, Phelps playing the hero, a 
 performance in which he always shone ; Marston, Michael ; and 
 G. Bennett, Gessler ; Mrs. Warner playing Tell's Wife. 
 
 On 21st of the same month he produced a new play by Mr. 
 Sullivan, called The King's Friend, in which he played Henry 
 IV., King of France, and Marston the Marquis de Rosny, Mrs. 
 Warner and Miss Cooper playing the Ladies. This piece was to 
 have been produced in 1840 at the Haymarket, when Wal- 
 lack was to have played the King and Phelps the Minister, which 
 he ought to have done on this occasion, as he would have made 
 more of that character than Marston did, and would have assured
 
 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 the play a longer run, as was generally thought. He did it, 
 however, to satisfy the author, who thought Marston could not 
 act the King, which, in our opinion, was a mistake. It was 
 nevertheless successful, and went well with ihe audience. 
 
 On 2nd June another new play, called The Florentines, was 
 produced, which was also successful, but does not call for any 
 very j^articular remark. 
 
 On 18th June he first produced Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton's 
 play of Richelieu, and acted the character of Richelieu for the 
 first time, which also then and ever after Avas one of his very 
 finest performances. He must have played it several hundred 
 nights from first to last. Marston was De Mauprat ; G. Bennett, 
 Baradas ; S. Buckingham, De Beringhen ; A. Younge, Joseph ; 
 and Mrs. Warner, Julie* 
 
 On 10th July Knowles's play of Love was produced, with 
 Marston, G. Bennett, Mrs. Warner, and Miss Cooper in the 
 principal characters. 
 
 On 21st July he acted the character of the Gamester (a great 
 part of Garrick's), in which he was then and ever after very 
 great, and superior, in our opinion, to Macready. G. Bennett 
 was Stukely ; Marston, Lewson ; and Mrs. Warner, Mrs. Beverly. 
 
 On 24th Othello was done again, for the first time this season. 
 How great he was in this character the various criticisms, 
 extending over his entire life, from the pens of the ablest 
 dramatic critics of his time, amply testify. Marston played lago 
 with him oftener than any other actor. 
 
 On 31st he again played Werner; and on 4th August, for the 
 first time under his own management, Jaffier in Venice Preserved, 
 Marston playing Pierre, and Mrs. Warner, Belvidera. 
 
 On 18th Macbeth was produced, for the first time this season, 
 with the same cast as last year. 
 
 On 27tli August he placed on the stage, also for the first time, 
 Massinger's play of The Fatal Dowry. He acted Romont (a fine 
 performance) ; Marston, Charalois ; G. Bennett, Rochfort ; and 
 Miss CoojDer, Beaumelle. 
 
 On 18th September Isabella was acted, with Mrs. Warner, G 
 Bennett, and H. Marston as Isabella, Don Carlos, and Biron. 
 
 On 29th September Hamlet was acted, for the first time this 
 season, with same cast as before.
 
 SECOND SEASON, 1845—1846. 79 
 
 On 9th October Pizarro was produced. He played Rolla for 
 the first time at this theatre ; J^arston, Alonzo ; G. Bennett, 
 Pizarro ; Mrs. Warner, Elvira ; and Miss Cooper, Cora. 
 
 Ou the 23rd The Bridal again done. Cast as before. 
 
 Shakespeare's Lear — from the original text — was produced 
 on 5th November, he playing Lear; Marston, Edgar; G. 
 Bennett, Edmund ; A. Younge, Kent ; H. Mellon, Gloster ; 
 Scharf, the Fool ; and Miss Cooper, Cordelia. 
 
 On 10th Sheill's Evadne was 'acted, to give him relief, G. 
 Bennett, Marston, and Mrs. Warner in the principal characters. 
 
 On 19th Shakespeare's Winter's Tale was produced for the 
 first time. He acted Leontes ; G. Bennett, Antigonus ; Marston, 
 Florizel ; A. Younge, Autolycus ; Mrs. Warner, Hermione ; Miss 
 Cooper, Perdita; and Mrs. H. Marston, Paulina. 
 
 On 28th November Douglas was played, Miss Cooper performing- 
 Douglas ; Marston, Glenalvon ; and Mrs. Warner, Lady Randolph. 
 
 On 4th February, 184-6, The Lady of Lyons was acted, for the 
 first time this season. Cast as last year. 
 
 On 23rd Virginius was also acted, for the first time this 
 season, and had a good run. 
 
 On 9th March Bulwer Lytton's Money was produced for the 
 first time at this theatre, with a cast in many respects better 
 than at its original production at the Hay market in 1840. He 
 himself played Alfred Evelyn much finer, as many thought, 
 than Macready did. George Bennett played Stout, an inimit- 
 able piece of acting, and far beyond the performance of David 
 Rees, the original ; Mellon played Graves, certainly better than 
 Benjamin Webster ; Dudley Smooth was played by Marston, 
 infinitely superior to Wrench (then an old man). Mrs. Marston 
 was Lady Franklin ; Miss Cooper, Georgina Yesey ; and Mrs. 
 Warner, Clara Douglas — the two first quite equal to the originals, 
 Mrs. Glover and Miss P. Horton, the latter not quite so good as 
 Helen Faucit. 
 
 On IGth March he produced Jane Shore, he playing Hastings ; 
 G. Bennett, Gloucester ; 'and Marston, Dumont; Miss Cooper, 
 Jane Shore ; and Mrs. Warner, Alicia. 
 
 The theatre closed for the second season on 5th Mnj, with 
 Julius Caesar for his benefit, and had been open two liundred 
 and ninety-six nights. The principal pieces produced during
 
 80 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 the season were Richelieu, The Fatal Dowry, King Lear, and 
 A Winter's Tale, on which we submit the following criticisms. 
 
 The Times said : — 
 
 " Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton's play of Eichelieu, or the Conspiracy, 
 has been produced here, and in a manner which reflects infinite credit 
 on the management, as well as the company to which the play is 
 intrusted. Mr. Phelps's impersonation of the old Cardinal is a very 
 complete, masterly performance, full of power and intelhgence. The 
 mixture of craft, indomitable energy, and dauntless courage, tempered 
 with a sort of honhomie, with which the author has invested the 
 character of Eichelieu, could not find a more perfect interpreter than 
 in Mr. Phelps, whose rugged but significant style fits itself naturally 
 to the part. The vivid and sententious language, strongly dashed 
 with the iroiiy of world knowledge, with which the character opens, 
 was delivered with caustic vigour and well-turned pointedness, the 
 keen, piercing glance and authoritative manner of the old statesman 
 being admirably preserved. In the latter part of the play, where, 
 disgraced, he still preserves his liondike energy, and braves the 
 underminers of his power, Mr. Phelps's powerful bursts of threatening 
 defiance, given with all the feverish excitement of old age, brought 
 down rounds of applause ; and in the last scene, when the treachery 
 of Baradas is unmasked, and he suddenly rouses from his assumed 
 exhaustion, the triumphant expression of successful policy, and 'the 
 withering sarcasm which lighted up his countenance, had an over- 
 whelming effect on the house." 
 
 "O 
 
 The same paper, in speaking of The Fatal Dowry, in a very 
 long critique said : — 
 
 " If we wish by witnessmg theatrical performance to revive the remin- 
 iscence of the old national poetical drama of England, to this theatre 
 alone must we resort. The Haymarket remains true to its purpose 
 by adhering to prose comedy, but in bringing forward neglected 
 specimens of what is somewhat loosely called the ' Elizabethan ' school, 
 Mr. Phelps and Mrs. Warner are honourably smgular, or — if some 
 fastidious critic should object to the word ' singular ' being predicated 
 of two persons — honourably ' dual.' To them are we indebted for 
 a revival of Pachard III. in its origmal form, of The City Madam, 
 and, to come to the business of last night, of The Fatal Dowry." 
 
 After a long description of the play the critic goes on to say : — 
 
 " The play acts very well. Perhaps in the whole range of the 
 drama a character could not be found more suitable to Mr. Phelps 
 than the burly, honest Eomont. ISTo one could better have assumed 
 unsophisticated roughness and sudden impetuosity. The interview 
 between him and young Novall, in which that contemptible fop was 
 very ably represented by Mr. Buckingham, was exceedingly effective.
 
 SECOND SEASON, 1845-1846. 81 
 
 aud the courage on the one hand and the fright on the other stimulated 
 the audience amazingly." 
 
 On The Winter's Tale the same paper contained thefollowing: — 
 
 " The last achievement at this excellently managed theatre has 
 been the production of The Winter's Tale of Shakespeare. One does 
 not often see a play got up in such a creditable style, -with such a 
 thorouyh-fjoinsc desire of making all that can be made out of a given 
 material. There is a certain life infused into this Sadler's Wells repre- 
 sentation of The Winter's Talc which displays itself in the exertions 
 of actors employed, which asserts itself in the costumes, which speaks 
 through the very appropriate scenery, and which altogether leaves a 
 most exhilarating impression on the spectator, provided he has allowed 
 himself to be carried on by the spirit of the proceeding. The part of 
 Hermione was excellently sustained by ]\lrs. Warner. Mr. Phelps, 
 though occasionally given to over-vehemence in his renderings of 
 emotion, plays with genuine feeling always. The torments of his 
 jealousy as Leontes are unmistakable, and his pathos strikes home." 
 
 The Patrician, speaking of The Fatal Dowry, said : — 
 
 " Mr. Phelps's personification of Eomont is masterly ; he pictures 
 the rugged manner, Imt manly bearing, the bold resolve, but exquisite 
 sensibility, of the soldier, with the touch of a master. How full of 
 force are his earlier addresses to the corrupt judges, and to the 
 frivolous wife, and the unthinking inmates of Charalois's matrimonial 
 establishment ! But the scene which proves Phelps an actor of more 
 than ordinary power, is that stirring secret interview between Romont 
 and the coward fop who would seduce the bride of Charalois. He 
 gave thrilhng effect to the superb burst of indignation — 
 
 ' You are a miserable slave, not fit 
 To tie the sword of Charalois about him,' &c., &c. , 
 
 Equally excellent was his rapid transition from doubt to forgiveness 
 and praise, where Komont hesitates to acknowledge Charalois, until the 
 hu.sband tenders him his right hand, red with the blood of the adulterer 
 and his victim, which the soldier grasps, exclaiming, ' ]\Iy friend ! . . . 
 Thou art redeemed.' AVitheriug, also, was his appellation of the base 
 old judge — •' Thou butcher of the law, and sanctified assassin.' We 
 purpose shortly resuming the subject of this theatre." 
 
 On King Lear the Athenxum, the Court Joiimal, Bell's 
 Wcehly Messenger, and the Observer had as follows : — 
 
 " It is gratifying to the critic when at last he finds that his 
 admonitions have been effective. We have contended for the purity 
 of Shakespeare's text, and have welcomed every ajiproacli to it on 
 the stage. We therefore commended JNIr. IMacready's revived version 
 of King Lear ; but, nevertheless, regretteil tin; dislocation of some of 
 the scenes, and tlie injiiiious falling of the curtain at the eml of the 
 
 a
 
 82 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 first act on Lear's curse. We have lived to see all this at length 
 effectually reformed. King Lear as now performed at this theatre 
 follows the text and order of Shakespeare's scenes, with some few 
 inevitahle omissions, hut with no alterations. The scene, hitherto 
 omitted, between the King and the Fool, which closes the first act, 
 excels in pathos — painful, it is true, hut faithful to the best feelings, 
 and melting the heart into tenderness. It was capitally acted, and 
 fully justified both the genius and judgment of the poet. The tragedy 
 is placed upon the stage, too, in that ideal and simple style of scenic 
 appointment which befits an altogether fabulous period. It has 
 accordingly all the air and the severity of a classical drama. Only 
 in one respect has too much been done. The storm into which poor 
 Lear is turned out by his not only ungrateful but unfeeling daughters, 
 is too naturally rendered — it is not imitation, but realization. Mr. 
 Phelps's performance of Lear may be easily excelled in royal dignity 
 and in physical vigour, but as a 2JatJiefic piece of acting is unrivalled. 
 Mr. Phelps never forgets the father — never seeks to surprise, but 
 contents himself with exciting pity for the wrongs that the outraged 
 parent suffers, and the natural relations that are insulted in his person. 
 It is much to the actor's credit that he sacrificed his professional 
 ambition to the proprieties of the scene. Having restored the curse 
 to its original place in the drama, Mr. Phelps was judiciously careful 
 not to give it undue efiect by being too vehement. He chastened 
 and toned it down to the proper emphasis required by its rightful 
 position. Was it on that account less effective with the audience 1 
 ]N"ot a whit. The tragedy is of course, in its restored state, long; 
 but there is a felt progression in it which interests the spectator and 
 approves itself to the judicious. We announce this restoration with 
 pleasure — for, to speak the truth, it is the only one which has been 
 made in .perfect good faith, and with a full rehance on the poet." 
 
 "We lately had occasion to express our delighted admiration at the 
 performance of Lear, under circumstances which ])ermitted an appre- 
 ciation of its various and wondrous beauties — namely, at a theatre where 
 they could be made visible and audible. We have now to repeat that 
 delighted admhation — but ' with a difference.' On Monday night Mr. 
 Phelps produced Lear at Sadler's Wells, thus completing Iris triumph 
 over ' time and the hour,' by proving that the loftiest, the purest, and 
 the profoundest of all the works of our great bard is at least as capable 
 of exciting tlie sympathies of the (so deemed) 'outside barbarians' of 
 the wilds of Islington, as it is of the more ' enlightened ' audiences 
 further west. Though it is impossible to speak of the Lear of Mr. 
 Phelps without comparing it — mentally, at least, if not verbally — with 
 that of Macready, yet nothing can possibly be more unlike than the 
 two, both in conception and in execution. And if that of Mr. Phelps 
 was, as a whole, not so great and perfect in both })articulars, or in 
 either, there were many points of it in no degree inferior, and one or 
 two that were more touching, delicate, and pure than the corresponding
 
 SECOND SEASON, 1845—1846. 83 
 
 parts of his great predecessor in the part. The curse in tlie second act 
 was decidedly inferior to that of Macready, both in the depth of its 
 shadows and the intensity of its hghts ; if (still to speak in the language 
 of a sister art) it had equal breadth of outline, and equal vigour and 
 trutli in the tillings in and the accessories, it had less of that variety 
 and vividness in the colouring of his moral pictures, in which INIacready 
 stands alone. In this great individual feature of the part Mv. Phelps 
 was, in fact, less successful on Monday night than, from subsequent 
 portions of his performance, we are fully persuaded he is capable of 
 being, and probably has been, on the succeeding nights ; for in those 
 other and subsequent points of the character which correspond with 
 this terrible one, he was eminently successful, both as regards moral 
 conception and physical exertion. There was a fearful beauty in some 
 of his bursts of passionate anger, which we have never seen exceeded. 
 But it was in the last two acts that Phelps proved himself, not merely 
 an excellent and admirable, but a great actor. In the first scene with 
 Kent and Edgar there was an utter abstraction and self-absorption- — an 
 entire escape from all external objects and influences — a sort of moral 
 dissolution of all ties except those which bind him for ever to his woes 
 and his wrong — that we have never seen surpassed. Again, in the two 
 concluding scenes — the recovery of his faculties, the recognition of his 
 child, and the closing with tlie corpse — there was, we are disposed to 
 tliink — or rather, were compelled to feel — a greater depth, simplicity 
 and unity of purpose, and a more perfect embodiment of that purpose, 
 than even in the great performance of jMacready himself. On the 
 whole, for our limits forbid further detail, the Lear of ]\Ir. Phelps is a 
 noble performance, worthy to be witnessed and scrutinized by the 
 warmest admu-ers of Shakespeare." 
 
 " Addison declared that Tate in altering King Lear ' had destroyed 
 half its beauty,' yet Tate's alteration retained possession of the stage 
 until very lately, its admirers justifying their preference by the authority 
 (if i)r. Johnson, who said he was so much shocked by the original 
 play that he could not endure to read again the last scenes till he 
 undertook to revise them as an editor ! The hold which this opinion 
 liad on the })ublic mind was manifested in Mr. Macrcady's adaptation, 
 our great tragedian, impressed with the merits of the original play, 
 and desirous of exhibiting it in a perfect form, nevertheless making 
 c('rtain sacrifices (refeixed to in our notice of the performance at tlu^ 
 Princess's Theatre), in order to accommodate his adaptation to the 
 supposed taste of the audience. Mr. Phelps, with a more lively faith 
 in the power of Shakesjxiare, on Wednesday produced the entir(! ]>lay 
 as it came from the mind of its immortal author; and the admiration 
 wliich it awakened was marked by the abundant applause of the 
 audience. In the. endeavour to give a faithful representation of this 
 tragedy, as mucli attentioii ajipears to have bcicn given to the mhiutest 
 details as to its most conimaniling features, and although it is to the 
 chief actor the j.uhlic is indebted for the restoration, there is a studious 
 
 G 2
 
 84 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 avoidance of anything like a sacrifice of propriety to engage attention 
 for the leading part. King Lear is not the one engrossing object, 
 surrounded by cyphers, but the centre of a group of varied characters, 
 each possessing marked distinctive features, and exercising an agency 
 either for good or evil. And it is remarkable with what intelligence 
 and energy the several actors fulfil their purposes. Mr. Phelps sustains 
 the character of Lear. It is a work of no common difficulty to convey 
 a notion of the mental and physical decrepitude of a man fourscore 
 years old and upwards, the wreck of mind and body, the final energies 
 of nature on the brink of the grave. The full manly voice will make 
 itself audible through the childish treble, the heavy masculine tread 
 is heard disturbing the illusion of tottering infirmity. In ]\Ir. Phelps's 
 performance, however, this illusion is supported with fine artistic power ; 
 and the actor is successful in impressing the poetic spirit of the character 
 upon his audience. The majesty, as well as the paternal tenderness 
 of Lear is preserved throughout ; the grief, despair, and madness are 
 kingly ; and the business which the action inspires is heightened by the 
 consciousness of the greatness of the mind that is suffering. At the 
 close of the first act there is a difference between this performance and 
 the adaptation at the Princess's. The text being closely adhered to, 
 we observe that restlessness and mental disturbance of Lear which is so 
 finely marked by Shakespeare, and forms a natural picture to the tragic 
 scenes which follow. In the great scene that closes the second act, the 
 acting of Mr. Phelps is magnificent, and the following passage in par- 
 ticular is rendered appalling by the imagination and power of the actor — 
 
 ' No, you unnatural hags ! 
 
 I will have such revenges on yo\i both 
 That all the world shall — I will do such things — 
 What they are yet I know not ; but they shall be 
 The terrors of the earth ! ' 
 
 " Another great feature of this impersonation is the scene where 
 Lear, his mind become a blank, enters ' fantastically dressed up witli 
 flowers ' : the quick, sharp wit, without a directing intelligence, is 
 touchingly and beautifully expressed. Altogether, Mr. Phelps's Lear 
 must be pronounced a very masterly performance. The Fool, labour- 
 ing to outjest Lear's ' heart-struck injuries,' is performed by Mr. 
 Scharf, who seems to have a clear conception of the nature and im- 
 portance of the part, and deserves to be commended for bis careful 
 and characteristic impersonation. Tlie scenery and stage appointments 
 are well conceived, and all in admirable keeping." 
 
 " The principal ' part,' technically speaking, in this great tragedy," 
 says the critic of the Ohserver, "is the old King — indeed, his woes and 
 his madness are the drama — all tlie rest being subsidiary and supple- 
 mentary to the portraiture of the one and the development of tlie 
 other. Therefore the actor who assumes to represent it assumes all 
 the weight and all the responsibilities of the piece. It is a character 
 at once simple and difficult of impersonation to the very last degree —
 
 SECOND SEASON", 1845—1845. 85 
 
 simple because, it is the direct expression of passion and feeling, difficult 
 because it is so perfectly human, human in its sympathies and in its 
 antipathies, human in its selKslmess, in its kindliness, in its obstinacy, 
 in its yieldingness — human, in short, in its constitution, its purpose, its 
 aim, and its end. A spoiled old man, self-willed but generous, with 
 the rigidity of age upon the unrestrained indulgences of youth — Lear 
 presents points of unison with almost every condition of our common 
 nature, and provokes a sympathetic sentiment in the minds of all. It 
 is this universality of the character which at once constitutes its 
 simplicity and its difficulty, and renders it a triumph of histrionic art 
 to present it properly to an intelligent audience. It is because of their 
 intellectual deficiency in looking at it in its manifold aspects, and 
 seizing the multifarious forms in which it is manifested, that so incal- 
 culable a number of actors have failed in its impersonation, and so few 
 have succeeded. In general Lear is represented only under one, or at 
 most two mental aspects ; the one being age in a state of second child- 
 ishness, the other absolute and hopeless insanity ; and, to represent 
 either, requires no extraordinary power on the part of the actor. Eut 
 Lear is not in his dotage according to the poet's intention, as all those 
 ' who run may read,' nor is his madness anything worse than the 
 morbid presence of one painful idea, which haunts him like a demon 
 and never leaves him — monomania as it is termed by men who atl'ect 
 to write upon the subject of that medical opprobrium — human insanity. 
 An intellect of the highest order — one only a degree inferior to that of 
 the creator of the part — would, these premises admitted, be required 
 appropriately to incarnate the poet's idea of the miserable old man of 
 the play ; and, sooth to say, those actors who have best succeeded in it 
 were uniformly men of undoubted genius — such as are in connection 
 with the arts once, it may be, in each century. To predicate, there- 
 fore, tliat Mr. Phelps, who at this house, and on these occasions, under- 
 takes the impersonation of tlie character, comes up to that mark, would 
 be to do him more and the author less than justice. Eut this must 
 be said of his performance of Lear, and it can be said with strict truth 
 — it is characterized by that which must always be the basis of every 
 excellence in connection with the presentation of Shakespeare's charac- 
 ters, and wanting wliich no actur can hope to succeed in conveying an 
 idea of the poet's meaning — namely, veneration and good faith ; and, 
 moreover, it must be also added, that if it is never above a certain 
 level in histrionic art, it is never below something Itetter than medio- 
 crity, and is in no case unworthy of a loyal interpreter and an honest 
 audience. Setting aside those great names in dramatic art who have 
 received illustration and celebrity irom their impersonation of this 
 * part,' from Eurbage, who was its first traditional representative, to 
 Ldmund Kean, who was its latest, Mr. Phelps's Lear will bear com- 
 jtarison with the best by any other actor that has ever troil the Kiiglish 
 stage. The scenery, decoration, and stage appointments were on a 
 liberal scale, and the whole performance was entitled to the utmost 
 praise for iutelligeuce of appreciation on the part of the actors, fidelity
 
 86 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 to the cause of the liigliest forms of dramatic art, and a complete 
 tleveloprnent of all the phases of action, passion, and feeling in this 
 most noble of all Shakespeare's tragedies." 
 
 On The Winter's Tale the Athenceum said : — 
 
 " Last Monday we visited this theatre, and found it crowded to an 
 excess, the play being Shakespeare's Winter's Tale, which has been 
 here produced with such attention to the general mise en scene, and to 
 the particular study of every part, as to make the performance, in- 
 deed, a perfect treat. Mrs. AVarner was Hermione, and in the statue 
 scene looked passing beautiful ; Mr. Phelps, Leontes, exhibited many 
 touches of natural passion which told well on the house. Mr. Younge 
 performed the part of Autolycus with great care and effect. The 
 Winter's Tale, though a highly poetical, is not generally a popular 
 play ; but, singularly enough, the usual theatrical order of things is 
 often reversed on this stage. The most poetical have uniformly been 
 the most successful pieces — those that tell best in the closet have also 
 told best in performance ; such is the advantage of small theatres. We 
 must not conclude without stating that nearly every word of the 
 original text is repeated, and that the second scene of the fifth act, so 
 long wont to be mutilated, is restored — a merit this, deserving unqualified 
 commendation." 
 
 The Ohservcr, after a very long and able article on this 
 production, said : — 
 
 " Much has been written on this subject of The Winter's Tale, and 
 yet the subject remains unexhausted. A curious critic — Horace 
 Walpole — refers it to the historical category of the author's works ; 
 and there is much difference of opinion as to whether it was not 
 intended as typical, and complimentary to Queen Elizabeth, her ferocious 
 sire, and sinful mother. The Aveight of evidence is, however, against 
 such a supposition as that hazarded by Walpole ; and it is now believed 
 — indeed it is known — that those portions of the piece on which he 
 based his theory are borrowed in all cases — literaUy copied in some — - 
 from the novels of Pandodo, and Dorastus, and Fawnia, en which the 
 comedy is undoubtedly founded. The jealousy of Leontes is the main- 
 spring of the action in The Winter's Tale, and it is a speculation at once 
 curioi'is and useful to study the mode in which Shakespeare dealt with 
 the different manifestations of the passion in this and in the tragedy 
 of Othello. Coleridge has ' hit the nail on the head ' in his analysis 
 of this motive power acting on two dissimilar natures, by pointing out 
 witli obvious truth and inimitalde acumen, that Leontes is constitu- 
 tionally ' suspicious ' — one who hath frenior cordis on him when Her- 
 mione shakes hands with Polixenes — whereas Othello is of a contrary 
 disposition — 
 
 ' One not easily jealous, but being wrought, 
 Perplex'd in the extreme.' 
 
 The view evolved by that great critic was obviously the one adopted
 
 THIED SEASON, 1846—1847. 87 
 
 by Mr. riiiilps in lu.s iutelligeut and skilful impersonation of the hate- 
 haunted mouarch, and the mark of truth was on it, therefore, from the 
 beginning to the end. ' Jealousy,' in the words of him who wrote the 
 poem of Love, and perished through the most sordid of personal 
 indulgences — opium-eating — ' jealousy,' well remarks Coleridge, ' is a 
 vice of the mind, a culpalile tendency of the temper, liaving certain 
 well-known and well-dehned elFects and concomitants, all of which are 
 visible in Leontes,and not one of which marks its presence in Othello.' 
 Making this axiom the basis of his idea of the character, the actor in 
 question, in the person of the King, exhibits first, ' an excitability on 
 the most inadequate causes, and an eagerness to snatch at proofs ; ' 
 secondly, ' a grossness of conception, and a disposition to degrade the 
 object of his passion by sensual fancies and images ; ' thiriUy, ' a sense 
 of shame of his own feelings ; ' fuurthly, ' a dread of vulgar ridicule ; ' 
 and fifthly, ' a spirit of selfish vindictiveness.' That it was the inten- 
 tion of the poet in creating the character to prefigure a man of a less 
 noble nature than the ' Moor of Venice,' is apparent in every trait by 
 which its ideality is depicted ; and that Coleridge was essentially and 
 particularly right in his criticism may not be disputed. But the error' 
 of actors — who, for the most part, are but half-informed men in matters 
 of literature — has hitherto been the consecration of Othello's idiosyn- 
 crasy into an Eidolon for their popular worship — perhaps because it is 
 of all Shakespeare's characters the most popular, and the consequent 
 assumption of Othello's jealousy as the prototype of all mental and 
 physical expressions of that fell passion. To conceive and express the 
 jiart in an opposite manner — to offer Leontes as one exhiliiting ' his 
 sense of shame for his own feelings in a solitary moodiness of humour,' 
 but withal, from the violence of his emotion, ' catching occasions to 
 ease his mind by ambiguities, by equivoques, and by soliloquy ; ' and 
 finally, as a man acting less from ' a high sense of honour, or a 
 mistaken sense of duty,' than from * a dread of vulgar ridicule,' — would 
 be to embody perfection in the presentation of this character to an 
 audience ; and, sooth to say, no actor except Mr. Phelps has hitherto 
 attempted it. Iliat he has r^//-succeeded, and offered such an incarna- 
 tion of the moody King, is not, therefore, predicated ; because to com})ly 
 witli these conditions is clearly beyond his scope as an histrionic artist. 
 But it may be safely said that, up to this moment, he has no equal in 
 the part, not only at the present jieriod, ])ut in the past history of the 
 English drama, so far as it has been handed down to posterity." 
 
 184G— 1847. 
 
 The tliinl season commenced on the 25th July, 1846, and 
 then and thenceforward tlie theatre was under his sole manage- 
 ment. He opened with the First Part of Shalccspcare's Henry 
 IV., playing for the first time the character of Sir John Falstatf,
 
 88 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 iti which he was very successful ; and it was ever after one of 
 his most famous parts. He must have played it during his life- 
 time three or four hundred times.* From what we have read of 
 Henderson, Phelps must have been his real successor in this cha- 
 racter, no one, between them or contemporary with him, having 
 played the character in such a highly intellectual manner. 
 
 Some critics, while highly extolling it, have spoken of its 
 want of what they have been pleased to call unction, but to us 
 he seemed to be anything but dry ; and if any one word more 
 than another characterized his acting of the part, that word is 
 " unctuosity." 
 
 Mr. Creswick was the Hotspur, making his first appearance 
 before a London audience on this occasion. He was very suc- 
 cessful, and well spoken of by the critics. G. Bennett played 
 the King ; Marston, the Prince of Wales ; and Hoskins (his first 
 appearance at this theatre), Poins; Scharf, the little part of 
 Francis ; and Mrs. H. Marston, Mrs. Quickly. 
 
 On the 29th The Hunchback was played, with Creswick as 
 Master Walter ; Marston, Sir Thomas Clifford ; Hoskins, Modus ; 
 Scharf, Fathom; Mrs. Pollock t (an experienced actress, thoitgh 
 her first appearance here), Julia; and Miss Cooper, Helen. 
 
 Thursday, 80th, Julius Csesar was put on, Phelps appearing 
 as Brutus ; Creswick, Cassius ; Marston, Marc Antony; A. Younge, 
 Casca ; and Mrs. Brougham, Portia. 
 
 On 13th August Love's Sacrifice (Lovell's) was enacted, 
 with Creswick as Mathew Aylmer ; G. Bennett, Paul Lafont ; 
 Hoskins, Eugene de Lorme ; Marston, St. Lo ; and Miss Cooper, 
 Margaret Aylmer. 
 
 On 26th August Westland Marston' s play of The Patrician's 
 Daughter was produced for the first time here, Phelps playing 
 Mordaunt ; G. Bennett, the Earl of Lynterne ; and Miss Laura 
 Addison, from Edinburgh, making her first appearance in London 
 as Lady Mabel, originally played by Helen Faucit. 
 
 * I have seen every other Falstaff of my time, including Bartley, 
 Strickland, and the American actor Hackett, but none of them, in my 
 opinion, approached him, I am almost tempted to say, within miles, either 
 in the breadth of outline or filling up of this wonderful creation.— W. M. P. 
 
 t Mrs. Pollock's first husband was Mr. Ryder of Aberdeen, the famous 
 Rob Roy of his time, and father of "Tom Ryder," whom Mr. Phelps 
 thought matchless as a low comedian. — J. F. R.
 
 THIRD SEASON, 184G— 1847. 89 
 
 Miss Addison's cUhut was a great success, and many preferred 
 her in this character to her predecessor. She was not such a 
 finished actress as Miss Faucit, but she touched the hearts of 
 her audience in many a scene with a success the most marvellous. 
 
 On 2nd September The Lady of Lyons was produced, for 
 Miss Addison to appear as Pauline, Phelps of course playing 
 Claude, and Mrs. H. Marston, Madame Deschapelles. Miss 
 Addison's success as Pauline was as great as in Lady Mabel, 
 and many preferred her to Helen Faucit. 
 
 On l(jth September he produced for the first time Romeo 
 and Juliet with the original text (not the hashed play that had 
 hitherto been done). He played Mercutio (first time in London) ; 
 Creswick, Romeo ; G. Bennett, Friar Laurence ; Miss Addison, 
 Juliet ; and Mrs. H. Marston, the Nurse, the best after Mrs. 
 Glover's. 
 
 On 15th October The Stranger was ao:ain done for Miss 
 Addison's Mrs. Haller. On 26th October The Gamester : 
 Beverly, Mr. Phelps; Mrs. Beverly, Miss Addison. On 29th 
 Isabella for Miss Addison, Marston being Biron, and G. Bennett, 
 Don Carlos. 
 
 On 4th November he produced for the first time Shake- 
 speare's Measure for Measure, he playing the Duke ; G. Bennett, 
 Angelo ; Marston, Claudio ; Hoskins, Lucio (the character that 
 made his reputation, in which and other eccentric parts he was 
 without a rival as long as he stayed at this theatre) ; Miss 
 Addison, Isabella. 
 
 Mr. Phelps would have preferred to play Angelo, but was 
 afraid to intrust the Duke to Bennett. Miss Addison's Isabella 
 was a fine performance, and to us it was her finest character. 
 
 On 19th November he again produced The Merchant of 
 Venice, and acted Shylock, with Miss Addison as Portia ; Marston 
 was Bassanio ; G. Bennett, Antonio ; and Hoskins, Gratiano ; Miss 
 Cooper, Nerissa; and Scharf, Launcelot Gobbo. This cast of the 
 piece has never been surpassed in our time, and splendidly it 
 went with the audience. 
 
 On the 23rd he did Venice Preserved for Miss Addison's 
 Belvidera, Creswick playing Pierre, and Marston, Jaffier. 
 
 On the 30th of the same month Money was again acted, with 
 Miss Addison as Clara Douglas, a very sweet performance.
 
 90 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 Oa 4th December Damon and Pythias was produced, Phelps 
 playing Damon; Creswick, Pythias; Dionysius, G. Bennett. 
 Damon had been, in the provinces, one of Mr. Phelps's most 
 popular parts, and it was not to be wondered at, for it was a 
 magnificent piece of acting, and, like his Lucius Junius Brutus, 
 once seen, never to be forgotten. It had been described as a 
 great character of Macready's in his younger days, but if he 
 approached Mr. Phelps in it, he must have been an altogether 
 different actor then to what he was when said to be in the 
 zenith of his fame. 
 
 On 17th December Talfourd's Ion was acted for Creswick's 
 benefit. Phelps played Adrastus (always a very great perform- 
 ance) ; Creswick himself. Ion. On Boxing Night The Stranger 
 was acted. 
 
 On 29th Isabella was again acted ; then followed The Merchant 
 of Venice, Lady of Lyons, and Money, until 13th January, 1847, 
 when he produced Beaumont and Fletcher's play of A King 
 and No King, which had not been acted for a century or more, 
 and in which he made a tremendous hit in the character, of 
 Arbaces (King of Iberia). George Bennett played Bessus (also 
 a great piece of acting); and Marston, Tigranes (King of 
 Armenia) ; Miss Addison, Panthea, a not very agreeable charac- 
 ter, but she did all that could be done with it. The play was 
 very successful, and the critics one and all spoke very highly of 
 it. The following criticism on it, by F. G. Tomlins, appeared 
 in Douglas JcrrolcVs Wceldij Newspaper : — 
 
 Sadlek's "Wells. 
 
 " On AVednesday evening the long-announced revival of Beaumont 
 and Fletcher's play of A King and ISTo King took place, with that 
 vigilant and picturesque care, by a due observance of which Mr. 
 Phelps has placed himself and this small theatre on an equaUty with 
 the most celebrated of his competitors. The scenery and dresses were 
 in excellent keeping, illustrating and not overpowering the perform- 
 ance. It must, however, be admitted that there is an air of great 
 exaggeration, not only in the writing hut in the adjuncts of the play ; 
 audthat the Eastern dresses suffer somewhat in our estimation, from 
 the frequency and length of time that they have been adopted in 
 burlesque. The play "itself has always been considered, by the 
 admirers of the twin writers, as one of their best. For our own part, 
 though acknowledging the dramatic power of some of the scenes,
 
 THIRD SEASON, 1846—1847. 91 
 
 j>;iiticularly those duvelopiiig the passion of Arbaces, we cannot Liit 
 think it very inferior to those of many of their contemporaries, 
 r.eaumont and Fletcher -were iindoubtedly amateur writers, and 
 strange as such a term may appear when applied to poets, it is still 
 pertinent to the examination of their quality. They had as much of 
 sentimentality as the healthiness and vigour of their age would permit. 
 'J'hey were not so much dramatists, as lovers and admirers of the 
 dramatic art, devoting themselves to that form of composition as the 
 most fashionable of their time. They indeed first perverted the 
 drama, making it a vehicle for the promulgation of their own senti- 
 ments and bursts of heroic or lyric imaginings. These assertions may 
 appear very heterodox to many who have blindly followed the cry 
 raised for the old drama, and who consider it as all of one (Quality. 
 Tlie new and the old drama cannot differ more Avidely than the styles 
 and principles of some of the old dramatists. Ben Jonson, Fletcher, 
 ^Nlassinger, and Shakespeare are respectively at the head of four distinct 
 species of plays. Of the four we think Fletcher the least of the true 
 dramatists. He is the literary precursor of Dry den and Lee, and 
 forestalled in many particulars the heroic plays of Charles 11. 's time. 
 AVe could not but be sensibly struck by tins in last night's perform- 
 ance. The same courtly reverence for kings ; the same tampering 
 with forbidden subjects ; the same excess and heat of passion. 
 Vehement but not potent ; exaggerated and fantastic, but still not full 
 and satisfying. The hyperbolical bursts betray a pr:rer taste than the 
 writers of the later period, and the excess is tempered with that feeling 
 for the true and truly good which Shakespeare and the other genuine 
 poets had made an absolute requisite. It had been the worse for 
 l-'letcher had he been born fifty years later. His excess would then 
 have been totally unrestrained, and the vehemence of his fancy (for 
 we have some misgivings as to his imagination) would have led him 
 into follies that would have made him the hero of Buckingham's 
 liehearsal. But when we consider the structure of his innnmerable 
 plays; the abundance and power of his genius ; and, if animated l)y 
 too much heat, the still high and mounting daring of its flight, 
 lircaking through its extravagance into torrents of eloquence and 
 passion; we regret even to api)ear to detract from the admiration due 
 t(j so noble and refulgent a s})irit. His deficiencies as a dramatist are 
 all we would allude to. 
 
 " The chief ])ersonage, Arbaces, is, if not quite a strong character, yet 
 .so strongly portrayed in one or two characteristics, that he is a fit axis of 
 the play. His wilfulness of conduct creates perpetual alternations of 
 interest, and is vigorously, if not very delicately delineated. His good 
 ilis])osition, contomling witli his inqietuous impulses, opens the way for 
 those })ursts in whicli the author's jiower rested. This part was admir- 
 ably, and ill two scenes exquisitely, performed by Mr. Phelps. He was 
 wanting, we tiioiiglit, in kingly dignity and self-assurance, in the early 
 srciics betraying the cai)riciousness of his facile nature to the coui'ticrs ; 
 luit in the scenes wlierc ho discovers his unlawful jiassidu foi' his
 
 02 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 supposed sister ; in that which he endeavours to gain over his worthy 
 minister and friend to his ignoble desires ; and in that where he learns 
 the secret of his substitution for the real monarch, he was surpassingly 
 true and powerful. It is a greater and higher performance not only than 
 any we have ever seen of Mr. Phelps's, but of any actor since the Kean. 
 Without apparent effort, without stage artifice, it is a pure and power- 
 ful delineation of rapid and consuming passion, and places the enactor 
 in the highest rank of his art. A few more such delineations, and 
 Mr. Phelps may bring back the passionate and serious drama to the 
 heart of the metropolis. 
 
 " The rest of the performance was careful. Miss Addison looked 
 and performed the slight and imperfect character of Panthea in a 
 classical style, — we did not perceive her wonted energy nor feeling. 
 Eessus was performed by Mr. Bennett to the top of its exaggeration, 
 and, with the other comic parts, was felt to be rather the vagary of a 
 humorous fancy than the delineation of any human reahty. Some 
 scenes seemed to descend even below farce to pantomime. 
 
 " Considerable alteration has been made in the play, and we cannot 
 think judiciously. Omissions were allowable, but interpolations of 
 sentiment not in accordance with the purpose of the play are imendur- 
 able. And the only impatience manifested by the audience was 
 directed towards them, of course unconsciously though instinctively. 
 Whoever has penned them has not ' plucked out the heart of the 
 mystery ' of the elder drama. The house was crowded to the very 
 utmost possibility ; on all accounts a gratifying spectacle." 
 
 The Lady of Lyons, Money, and A King and No King 
 then went on night after night, with The Rivals, and The Road 
 to Ruin (in which latter Phelps's Old Dornton, and Mrs. Marston's 
 Widow Warren, Miss Cooper's Sophia, and Hoskins's Goldfinch 
 were very fine performances). 
 
 On the 18th February a new and original tragedy, by the 
 Rev. James White, author of The King of the Commons (pro- 
 duced in May 184G at the Princess's by Mr. Macready), called 
 Feudal Times, was brought out with very great success. Phelps 
 played the hero, Walter Cochrane (Earl of Mar) ; Bennett, 
 Douglas (Earl of Angus) ; Marston, King James IIL of Scotland ; 
 Miss Addison, Margaret Randolph ; and Miss Cooper, the Queen. 
 This piece was very successful, the whole of the five characters 
 above-named having been very finely acted. 
 
 On 22ad March he again produced Othello, with Miss Addison 
 as Desdemona, and other characters as before. 
 
 On 7th April he produced for the first time Shakespeare's 
 Tempest, he playing Prospero ; Marston, Ferdinand ; G. Bennett,
 
 THIRD SEASON, 1846—1847. 93 
 
 Caliban ; Scharf, Triuculo ; and A. Younge, Stephano ; Miss 
 
 Addison Avas Miranda, and Miss Julia St. George, Ariel, — a fine 
 
 cast, and the piece was very successful. 
 
 On 7th May he produced Morton's comedy, Town and 
 
 Country, j^l^^ying himself Reuben Glenroy; Marston, Captain 
 
 Glenroy; G. Bennett, Rev. Owen Glenroy; Hoskins, Plastic; 
 
 A. Younge, Cosey ; Williams, Trot; Miss Cooper, Hon. Mrs. 
 
 Glenroy ; Miss Addison, Rosalie Summers ; and Mrs. H. 
 
 Marston, Mrs. Moreen, — also a sj^lendid cast, and fine acting 
 
 throusfhout. 
 
 On Whit Monday Maturin's tragedy of Bertram was acted. 
 
 He j^layed Bertram, and in some parts of it was very fine ; but 
 
 it was not a piece to draw much money. 
 
 On the 2nd June, the last night of the season, he produced 
 
 for his own benefit Lovell's fine play of The Provost of Bruges, 
 
 in which he acted the character of the Provost. 
 
 Thirty-one first pieces were played this season, whicli consisted 
 of several of Shakespeare's, as has been seen, interspersed by new 
 pla3's, as well as others of the Elizabethan poets which had not 
 been acted for over a century ; and Macbeth pure and simple, as 
 it came from Shakespeare's pen, was announced for production 
 in the following September. The theatre was open two 
 hundred and fifty-two nights. 
 
 On the opening of the theatre this third season, and now 
 under his sole management (Mrs. Warner, for reasons unnecessary 
 to be gone into here, having seceded from the theatre), F. 
 G. Tondins (editor) says in Douglas Jcrrold's Weekly A^etvsjM^er 
 of Saturday, 1st August, as follows: — 
 
 " The opening of tliis theatre with one of Shakespeare's plays, 
 requiring a greater variety and contrast of talent than any other, naturally 
 suggests reflections as to the cause of what may be justly termed a 
 ))hi'nom('iioii in the dramatic woikl. It involves not only the con- 
 sideration of the theatrical, hut of social matters, and may he cited not 
 merely as an instance of the power of genius to attract under tlie moat 
 adverse circumstance.-^, hut as an illustration of the false notions 
 pionndgated of the capacities and tastes of various sections of society. 
 " When Shakespeare was fasliionahle at the Court end of the town, 
 the higher classes arrogated to themselves finer tastes and perceptions 
 than their more eastern neighbours. 'J"he passion, the poetry, and the 
 wistlom of the great writer were said to he inajiprcciahle l>y IIk; vulgar 
 multitude out of Westminster; and it was declared in tin; Houses of
 
 94 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 Commons and Lords by our hereditary legislators, that if Shakespeare's 
 plays were permitted to be played out of the Court precincts, he would 
 be desecrated ; that the enunciation would be so vile, and the repre- 
 sentatio]! so mean, that it would be a national disgrace. A few (and 
 at tirst but a very few) men could not think that the substitution of 
 his grand illustrations of human nature for the insane trash usually 
 bestowed on the suburbs, could do any injury either to the dramatist 
 or the audience. 
 
 " With much opposition the free trade of the drama was established, 
 and if any one desires to have a practical illustration of the beneficial 
 results of liberal doctrines, he cannot have a more efficient or pleasant 
 one than by witnessing the performances of Sadler's Wells, l^ever 
 was the exemplification of the force of excellence more apparent ; 
 without even a change of the name, with which for so many years 
 was associated dancing dogs, and real water, this theatre, by the 
 mere force of fine taste and ability, has become the resort of the intel- 
 lectual, and the home of the poetical and passionate drama. It speaks 
 strongly for the neighbourhood, and more strongly for the fine per- 
 ceptions that are smouldering in the nature of all human beings, that" 
 Mr. Phelps's and Mrs. Warner's noble attempt has met with due 
 encouragement. 
 
 " A more forlorn speculation could not be imagined than it was 
 declared to be by all the Jeremiahs of the theatrical world when the 
 idea was first promulgated ; and it argues so sensible a perception ' of 
 the force of excellence, and such a reliance on the potency of our great 
 poet, that it carries the projectors into the highest class of artists. A 
 faith so fervid, and a taste so pure for the highest and profoundest 
 kind of drama, are something very diff"erent from, and must not be 
 confounded with, the showman's mode, that seeks to dazzle with costly 
 furniture, or captivate the senses with glaring pageants and startling 
 contrivances. 
 
 " It is now nearly one hundred years since the monotony of courtly 
 theatricals was roused from its apathy, and kindled into enthusiasm by 
 the bursting forth of a new and natural style of acting at an illegal 
 theatre ; and the then gilded chariots of fashion were seen passing the 
 Rubicon of Temple Bar, and proceeding even beyond the money-lenders 
 of Lombard Street, to the vulgar precincts of Wapping, to see Garrick 
 at Goodman's Fields. Sadler's AVells was then a wine-house and half 
 menagerie, and the law, in its plenitude of power and dearth of wisdom, 
 declared that Shakespeare's drama should never be played at such 
 places. Slow was the growth of liberality and enlightenment, and it 
 took almost a century to procure for this despised suburb the right to 
 represent the national poet, who in the great tenderness of legislators 
 was to be swathed with Acts of Parliament, and only exhibited under 
 royal patronage. 
 
 " It were to write a history of the nation to show how, through the 
 humanizing influence of a Fielding and a Defoe, and their noble 
 successors, the inhabitants of Goswell Street and Islington have been
 
 THIRD SEASON, 184^—1847. 99" 
 
 refined to a purer taste and higher perceptions than the neighbourhood 
 of St. James's. There are shop-girls whose genuine enjoyment of the 
 fine dramas produced here should put to shame the corrupted taste of 
 some even of the very highest ladies in the land. 
 
 " Mr. Phelps has a just cause for self-gratulation for the aid he has 
 given to this development, and it is heartily to be hoped he has reaped 
 a mercantile reward for it. The opening of the present season on 
 Saturday last was a Avorthy climax to his previous efforts. It was a 
 satisfactory refutation to many dogmas lately indulged in with regard 
 to the state of the drama. It proved that a play of Shakespeare's 
 could still be well and completely represented ; and more, that an 
 audience could be gathered together who could still earnestly appreciate 
 and rapturously enjoy his Avorks and creations. 
 
 " Of all plays, the First Part of Henry IV. would be cited as embody- 
 ing more than any other all the great qualities of Shakespeare. Others, 
 such as Hamlet, Lear, and Macbeth, would be placed before it, each 
 for some transcendent excellence, but in no other play will all the 
 varied qualities of the author be so fully displayed at one vicAV ; and 
 it seems to us, it may be cited as an epitome of all his vast powers. 
 Wit, humour, pathos, wisdom, chivalry, and even the spiritual abound 
 m it with such potency, that each character requires an actor of emi- 
 nence to portray it. We do not mean to say that it received this 
 illustration on Saturday night, or indeed ever at any one time, but it 
 received a very satisfactory, not to say noble, exposition. Mr. Phelps's 
 Falstaff and Mr. Creswick's Hotspur had great merit, the former 
 showing a full intellectual appreciation of the intense humour of the 
 part, and the latter catching the fiery poetry of the character in portions 
 of his delineation. Mr. Phelps possesses t/ie one quality which supplies 
 the place of so many other advantages. That which gave height to 
 Garrick, lustre and animation to the disadvantageous appearance of 
 Henderson, dignity and grandeur to Edmund Kean, and whiidi has 
 enabled so many actors to distinguish themselves, though seemingly 
 denied by nature the grace and presence apparently indispensable to 
 the art of acting — that precious quality is imagination, which seizes at 
 once and fully on the author's idea, and develops it with a suggestive 
 power that is kindling and contagious. 
 
 " The illusion raised by this power at once obliterates all the defects 
 which are insurmountable to those who treat acting as tln^ art of 
 mimicking, .or, to speak more correctly, who seek by the reproduction 
 of the real to .substitute a fact for an idea. The real school has been 
 carried to its height by some late cehibrated actors, but its la1)orious 
 efforts to ])roduce illusion deceive only for an instant, Avheroas the 
 vivifying force of a fine imagination puts the spectator's mind into fidl 
 action, and leads him from scene to scene, and from passion to passion, 
 by a si)f'll not easily to be dissolved. 
 
 "This power Mr. Phelps has, and it is not oidy apparent in Ins 
 acting, })ut in his management. Grace and propriety are manifest in 
 the wliole business of the scene, and those who have not a suggestive
 
 ne LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 facility, have the benefit of his direction and guidance. The play is, 
 therefore, brought forward as a whole, and is more fully developed at 
 Sadler's Wells than was even formerly the case at Drury Lane, though 
 informed in one character by the transcending abilities of the Kean." 
 
 1847—1848. 
 
 The fourth season commenced on 23rd August, 1847, with 
 Shakespeare's Cymbeline. Phelps played Leonatus Posthumus ; 
 G. Bennett, Belarius ; Marston, lachimo ; H. Mellon, Cymbe- 
 line ; Hoskins, Guiderius ; Miss Laura Addison, Imogen ; and 
 Mrs. Marston, the Queen, This production was especially 
 successful, and brought him a great many very flattering 
 letters, amongst them one from Charles Dickens, and another 
 from John Forster, the then editor of the Exammcr, both of 
 which will appear further on. 
 
 On the 30th of the same month he continued Lovell's tragedy 
 of The Provost of Bruges, which he produced for his benefit 
 the previous season, pkiying himself Bertulphe the Provost, 
 the character originally played by Macready. The latter, by 
 notes in his diary, does not seem to have thought very highly 
 of it, but Mr. Phelps, to our mind, (outside Shakespeare) made 
 it one of his finest assumptions. G. Bennett played Thancmar, 
 and Marston, Bouchard ; Laura Addison was Constance, the 
 Provost's daughter, which she acted very nicely. 
 
 Srd September, Werner again for a few nights; 16th, 
 Patrician's Daughter ; and those plays, with Cymbeline, were 
 played until 27th September, when he produced Macbeth 
 fi'om the original text, dispensing with the Singing Witches. 
 He played Macbeth; Marston, Macduff; G. Bennett, Banquo ; 
 J. T. Johnson, Malcolm ; Hoskins, Rosse ; Graham, Lennox ; 
 Miss Addison, Lady Macbeth; Miss Cooper, Lady- Macduff; 
 Harrington, Hecate ; the three Witches, A. Younge, Scharf, 
 and Wilkins. This was the first time the tragedy had been 
 thus produced for two hundred years, and it w^as immensely 
 successful. 
 
 F. G. Tomlins (editor), in Douglas JcrrokVs Wccliy Kews- 
 'pa'pcr, and Jonas Levy, in Lloyd's Wcclcly London News, wrote 
 of it as follows : —
 
 FOURTH SEASON, 1847—1848. 97 
 
 G 
 
 " The production of Macbeth at Sadler's Wells <?h Monday, shorn 
 of the meretricious additions and adornments that the puerile fancy 
 of Davenaut and successive managers had encumbered it with, is a 
 new proof of the soundness of that criticism which has been so long 
 demanding for Shakespeare an unfettered use of his own genius. A 
 great artist (and a great dramatist must be the greatest of artists) casts 
 his productions as a whole ; and the production of Macbeth, or any 
 really grand tragedy, can no more be tampered with by inferior artists 
 than St. Peter's at Rome, or our St. Paul's, by a modern builder. 
 The unity of purpose in Macbeth had so far satisfied the newer school 
 that this tragedy had not suffered in so outrageous a manner as Lear 
 and others. Still, however, the French lust for sensation and effect, 
 introduced by the exiled courtiers at Charles's restoration, and the 
 effect of which is still visible in our drama and literature, induced 
 Davenant to introduce a crowd of singers ; and, in fact, made it a 
 vehicle for show and music. Of all the attempts to restore Shake- 
 speare's plays we consider this the boldest. Precisely because it had 
 been so little altered, in comparison to others, was it difficult to restore 
 it. Connected also with noble music, which in a well-conceived opera 
 would be most appropriate, many persons still think it was an allow- 
 able innovation. All such thinkers we refer to the reproduction at 
 this theatre, for a better commentary on the purport of the great drama 
 could not be obtained. For the first time for nearly two hundred 
 years could a correct view be obtained by an audience of the play in 
 its entirety ; and never did its proportions come out more perfectly. 
 By inserting only the portion of the Witches designed by the author, 
 their agency and their potency became obvious ; and it was wonderful 
 to find with how few touches and comparatively few words their 
 important offices are fulfilled. Four short scenes, in curt dialogue, 
 divided between three and sometimes four individuals, make up the 
 whole of this terrible machinery. But never was the supernatural 
 more effectively introduced. These wretched outcasts, a link, by their 
 innate baseness, between humanity and the powers of darkness, hover 
 over the action of the drama like a pestiferous vapour, assuming a 
 tangible form on every vital occasion, being again dissipated into the 
 murky atmosphere under which, as under a canopy, the appalling 
 incidents of the action proceed. They appear but to stimulate the 
 criminal to fresh crimes, and rejoice at the fulfilment of the horrors 
 they have induced. The first scene is a key-note to the sublime series ^ Qi^L 
 of scenes that is to follow ; and admirably managed and most poetic- 
 ally conceived is it in tliis restoration. On the rising of the curtain 
 the darkened stage presents three wretched, sordid, outcast creatures, 
 whoxe own vile nature and as vile treatment have made a concentration 
 of malice and misanthropy ; and, completely subverted in nature, with 
 them the fair is foul, and all that is loathsome, delightsome. Having 
 prepared in their villainous assignation the minds of the audience for 
 the teni]itation, they literally (by a mechanical contrivance) vanish 
 m the fog and filthy air. In the temptation scene they are brief 
 
 II
 
 9S LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 malevolent, and ^ui vocal ; and here again, by well-conceived arrange- 
 ments, they appeared dimly and indistinctly, and by other mechanical 
 contrivances receded into the very air, again appearing in a pestiferous- 
 looking cloud, huddled together, and 'hovering' in the air. 'J hey 
 have now sown the evil seed, and we see them no more until a brief 
 scene at the close of the third act, merely introduced to elevate the 
 catastrophe in which Hecate alone indicates the course to be taken 
 to rouse so important a sinner to ' spurn his fate,' ' scorn death,' and 
 finally blaspheme ' wisdom and grace.' In the fourth and last scene 
 of their appearance (the incantation scene), the grovelling filth and 
 baseness of their nature are displayed, and subtle and tortuous devices 
 and utterances finally pamper the lost man's spirit, and ' by the strength 
 of their illusion ' draw him on to a monstrous and utterly remorseless 
 course. Such are the Witches in the original plaj', and in this 
 restoration, — brief in discourse, and but seldom introduced, but so 
 effectively that we feel their noxious influence in every utterance. 
 The L)avenant additions only overlay the interest, stop the progress 
 of the action, and, confusing the attention, destroy the whole perspec- 
 tive and proportion of the drama. The modern restoration presents 
 also a simpler and juster view of the character of the "Witches, which 
 have been, we must think, much misinterpreted and misrepresented 
 by most of the critical commentators, not even excluding the greatest 
 of all, Coleridge. We have dwelt more at length on this portion of 
 the play because it was there that the difficulty of restoration lay. 
 
 ' ' The restoration of the part of Lady Macduff", and several other 
 intermediate scenes, all -written with a view of softening the horror of 
 the theme, or bringing the great moral more effectively out, shows how 
 complete an artist Shakespeare was, comprehending tlie laws that 
 produce effect, and equally possessing the poetic element that must 
 animate a drama. Mr. Phelps's performance was conceived in the 
 highest poetry, — with no ' false starts,' no spouting, no pointed 
 ranting, no misdirected energy that fires the unreflecting many into 
 sudden admiration. It was all deep, genuine, Avell-uttered passion 
 and emotion, from the first agitated ' Stay, you imperfect speakers,' to 
 the frantic courage of ' Yet, I will try the last.' The fearful inter- 
 mediate emotions were as ' a wild and violent sea ' with their colossal 
 passion and awe-striking succession, almost too much to see, and 
 certainly almost too arduous to perform. ]\Ir. Phelps has the one great 
 requisite for acting : he possesses a plastic imagination, and, like 
 Henderson, who in some physical defects lie also resembles, he seems 
 to put on the character with the dress. Certainly we have never seen 
 the character so completely portrayed ; the key-note being struck 
 gently at the first, the harmony was preserved throughout. Some 
 particular scenes other actors might give more grace or force to, but 
 as an entire conception of the valiant chieftain, drawn into the darkest 
 crimes by the solicitations of the ministers of evil, we have never seen 
 it rivalled. The great moral of the play was thus absolutely protruded 
 on the mind, and as crime succeeded crime, until the catalogue is
 
 FOURTH SEASON, Iy47— 184S. 99 
 
 exliausted, and their uUerjnutilit^s displayed, the mind was sliaken 
 with terror at the fury of the passions and their ' fatal dismal end.' 
 
 " Of the other characters we need not say much. ' The play was 
 the thing,' and there was nothing so bad as materially to interfere 
 with the" general effect. The Witches were well depicted and attired ; 
 very properly, scarcely grotesque, but squalid, and unearthly, and 
 pictures(pie. Banquo and Macduff (IMr. Bennett and Mr. ]\Iarston) 
 were sensibly, and the last effectively, performed. Lady Macbeth is 
 so awful a part, hallowed by such traditional notions of excellence, 
 and requiring so much natural dignity, that it was not to be expected 
 so young and inexperienced an actress as ISliss Addison could perform 
 it. She would do better if she made less effort, and did not by 
 continual emphasis mar the effect of her own energy. The accenting 
 almost every alternate syllable produces a monotony, almost amounting 
 to sing-song, that prevents all expression of emotion. In the more 
 literal parts she was the most effective ; and we still have every hope 
 that this young lady will make a fine actress. But she must labour 
 unceasingly in her art, and should seek the highest advice. The 
 appointments of the play were good in their kind, and the arrange- 
 ment of the banquet scene novel and effective. The introducing the 
 head of Macbeth was, however, a mistaken literality. The house was 
 crowded to excess by a most attentive and delighted audience." 
 
 'J " The decline of the English drama — the degradation of the English 
 stage — has of late been a cry, which has been repeated and re-echoed 
 till it has become a sort of cant — a form of words which people have 
 got into the habit of using, without any distinct notion of its meaning. 
 The stage is pretty much in the same predicament as the currency — 
 subject to fluctuations that cannot be traced with precision to their 
 causes, but for which everybody imagines he has discovered the true 
 remedy. It will be found in the one case as well as in the other, that 
 the influences which stimulate or depress are so mixed and uncertain, 
 and so exposed to modification from circumstances, as to evade the 
 application of any general principles, except those which are funda- 
 mental and unalterable. At all events, any one who sees what is now 
 going on at Sadler's Wells Theatre — any one in particular who mingled 
 in the dense crowd assembled on Monday night on the representation 
 of Macbeth, and who had the good fortune to obtain admission, and 
 witness its enthusiastic reception, must be convinced that there is 
 small reason, or rather no reason at all, for the complaiiit that has 
 been proclaimed aloud of the degenerate state of the Ih'itish drama, 
 and tli(; degraded jiosition of the English stage. Macbeth was written 
 in IGOG, and, perhaps, has undergone less alteration than any of 
 Shakespeare's other plays. In 1674, Sir William Davenaiit pi-oihiced 
 a version of Macbeth, introducing the dancing and singing witches, 
 and the music of Locke. This has kejit possession of the stage till 
 the present time, when Mr. J'lielps l)oldiy steps forward and restores 
 the i'lay, as near as circumstances allow, to its pristine form, lie- 
 
 II 2
 
 100 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 has brought it out with a profusion of magnificence, and a propriety 
 of decoration and pomp, which one could scarcely imagine the resources 
 of the theatre to be capable of. The first scene was very skilfully 
 managed, and elicited a round of well-deserved applause. The stage 
 was darkened to a much greater degree than usual, so much so that 
 but the imperfect outlines of the weird sisters were visible. In front 
 only a dim lurid light played, and as the hags stepped backwards, the 
 darkness, aided by a combination of gauze screens, procured one of the 
 most perfect etfects of vanishing we ever saw. The gradual clearing 
 of the air too, after Macbeth's interview with the sisters, disclosing 
 the lines of the victorious army in the distance, was well conceived 
 and cleverly executed. It seemed the natural brightening up of 
 nature relieved of the presence of the foul sorcerers. Macbeth's castle 
 at Inverness was another effective scene, but we mention it principally 
 as being the first attempt we have seen to reproduce some of the local 
 features of the * pleasant site ' — the steep wall-crowned hill, and the 
 clear river rushing beneath. The alarm scene of the murder was 
 admirable. Nobles, knights, sqiiires, pages, and vassals, armed with 
 every species of ancient weapons picked up on the spur of the moment 
 — here a halberd, there a battle-axe, now a pike, anon a blazing pine 
 torch, rushed tumultuously upon tho stage, as from every portion of 
 a huge and garrisoned castle. The cauldron scene, too, was effective. 
 The final scenes were spirited in the extreme. The old conventional 
 business of a general action — a flourish of trumpets every two or three 
 minutes, with a single combat between, was very properly dispensed 
 with. If ever a melee was well imitated upon the stage, it was in the 
 representation of this tragedy. Looking through heavy Gothic balus- 
 trades, you saw the crowds of combatants. A sally of the defenders 
 of the castle now driving out their besiegers ; anon a fierce rally of 
 the English soldiers beating back the troops of Macbeth ; while forth 
 from the melee, with difficulty disentanghng themselves from the 
 fightmg, rushing crowd — now Macbeth, now Macduff, now Siward, 
 would struggle forward for a more conspicuous place. Macbeth's 
 head is also introduced on a pole, as directed by Shakespeare. He is 
 not killed by Macduff in the sight of the audience, as heretofore on 
 the representation of the play. We have heard many objections to 
 bringing on ' the tyrant's head ' ; but in our opinion Mr. Phelps has 
 done well in adhering strictly to the author. We have no desire for 
 a regular 2nctiiresque death ; no doubt it tells with astonishing eff"ect 
 upon the nerves of the susceptible and delicate part of the audience ; 
 but Avould not such a spectacle be more appropriate in Eugantino, 
 Timour the Tartar, or The Assassin of the Eock 1 The costumes were 
 got up with taste, judgment, and splendour. There was no tartan — 
 although the play has generally been so dressed.* Tartan is compara- 
 tively a late introduction into Scotland, and its use in representing 
 
 * Tartan, though not perhaps in the strict clan-pattern sense, as we know 
 it, is as old as the heather, if not the hills, which it clothes and glorifies. 
 Macbeth may, or may not, have had a touch of it in his dress. — J. F. K.
 
 FOURTH SEASON, 1847—1848. 101 
 
 the costume of the period of Macbeth must be erroneous. The primi- 
 tive-looking mantles, with their heavy bars and ponderous folds, in 
 which most of the characters were dressed, harmonized well with our 
 notions of the early, almost traditional period of the play. Mr. Phelps 
 played ^lacl^eth. On the first night he appeared over excited and 
 exhausted in his performance. On the second representation, his 
 dehneation and conception of the character was not only just, but in 
 some parts original and new. He throws into it much vigour and 
 nice discrimination. His elocution is excellent, and his taste correct. 
 His performance of the character, as a whole, was a masterly one. In 
 the soliloquy on the visionary dagger, he gave the picture of an imagin- 
 ation affected with the dread design he was about to put in execution 
 with appalling truth, and ably marked the sinking horror that 
 benumbed his faculties after the perpetration of the horrid deed. He 
 seemed deeply impressed with the grandeur of the poet's conception, 
 and to feel all that he said or did. Instead of at once starting at the 
 ideal dagger, as if he was fully convinced of its appearance, he kept 
 his eye fixed on the ' painting of his fear,' till the brain-sick, bewildered 
 imagination made it real ; shrinking from its belief, and leturning to 
 it with a struggling conviction, until it obtained full possession of 
 him. In the banquet scene he w'as not quite so successful, because 
 dignity and kingly courtesy were Avanting ; but his address to the 
 ghost of Banquo was most excellent, his attitude admirable, and his 
 action good ; his expression, too, was in perfect union with all, and 
 the whole of the latter part of the scene presented as true a resemblance 
 of a murderer's dismay before the shadow of his victim, as the fancy 
 could form. His last scene was alike excellent ; like the former Thane 
 of Cawdor, 'nothing became his life more than leaving it.' He 
 gallantly bore up against Macduff to the last, and quitted the stage 
 accompanied by the loud applause of the audience. Mr. Marston's 
 performance of Macdutf was most meritorious ; it was well studied 
 and carefully enacted ; he exhibited the touches of domestic woe, 
 which rcfjuire the feelings of the tender father and affectionate husband, 
 very effectively. Malcolm was very Avell played by Mr. J. T. Johnson ; 
 as was Itosse by Mr. Hoskins, and Duncan by Mr. H. Mellon — the 
 latter part is said to have been originally played by Shakespeare him- 
 self. Mr. Bennett's Banc^uo is a superior performance ; and the Witches 
 of ]\Iessrs. Younge, Scharf, and Wilkins are entitled to their full meed 
 of praise. Mr. Harrington's Hecate is not so good an embodiment as 
 his risanio ; it was carelessly done, the text delivered with too much 
 rapidity, thereby destroying the rhythm. The minor parts were suffi- 
 ciently sustained. Miss Laura Addison was the I^ady Macbeth. 
 She has a good conception of the part, draws a just outline of it, but 
 is incapaljlo of jillinj up the difficult and tremendous character of 
 lady Macbeth. We have acknowledged Miss Addison to bo a very 
 talented young lady ; and we admit she is a rising actress. It there- 
 fore gives us pain to depress tlui hopes of one so talented ; but in great 
 things, as in small, truth should be spoken ; it is ultimately beneficial
 
 / 
 
 102 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 to the performer herself, and is a debt of justice to other professors of 
 the same art. Although by no means a great performance, there are 
 several parts of Miss Addison's Lady Macbeth that deserve honour- 
 able mention. Her manner of reading her husband's letter on her 
 entrance was good ; and so was her delivery of the succeeding 
 6oliloqi;y ; but when she came to ' The raven himself is hoarse,' it 
 was immediately discovered that her want of physical energy would 
 militate considerably against her Lady Macbeth being recorded as a 
 first-rate specimen of the histrionic art. The reception of her new- 
 titled husband was effective ; and the swelling ambition that prompts 
 her murderous hints to him, correctly depicted ; but we fear she is 
 acquiring a bad habit of declaiming when she should feel, and of 
 studying to produce effect, when, if she yielded to the impulse of the 
 moment, she would achieve her object without effort. In her first 
 interview with Duncan, she mingled a graceful hospitable frankness 
 with the stern looks that occasionally were darted on the king as he 
 is about to enter the castle. The scene in which she works up Macbeth 
 to do the deed was well conceived, but feebly executed. AVe must 
 award her all praise for an excellent distinctness, and for the effective- 
 ness of her whispering speeches during the progress of the murder, 
 particularly where she exclaims, in a suppressed but contemptuous 
 tone, — 
 
 ' Infirm of purpose, 
 Give me the daggers,' &c. 
 
 Her best scene was the one of the banquet, where she dismisses her 
 guests, commanding them to 
 
 ' Stand not upon the order of your going, 
 But go at once.' 
 
 In conclusion, we have only to remark that Miss Addison is deficient 
 of the high and superior powers which are required to give effect to 
 Lady INIacbeth. She is a clever actress, with a very laudable intelli- 
 gence of the character, but with natural powers completely inadequate 
 to its just exhiliition. Lady Macduff", in itself an unimportant part, 
 was rendered very important by the excellence Avith Avhich it was 
 enacted by Miss Cooper. A talented little child, a Miss Mandlebert, 
 made quite an impression in her performance of Macduff's son ; it was 
 a clever impersonation. The house was crowded in every part, and 
 hundreds went away disappointed, not being able to obtain admission. 
 The play was listened to with the greatest attention ; its success was 
 most triumphant. The curtain descended amid a volley of cheers, 
 Phelps, Marston, and Miss Addison being called for by the audience, 
 which was an indiscriminnte one, drawn from all classes of society, 
 and representing the experiences of every condition of life. Such an 
 audience is, upon the whole, the soundest tribunal before which the 
 merits of an actor or a play can be tried. If it be not guided in its 
 decisions l)y critical canons and fine distinctions, it is governed by the 
 instinct of feelings that are keenly sensitive to the appeals of nature, 
 and rarely erroneous in the final award."
 
 FOURTH SEASON, 1847—1848. 103 
 
 On 27tli October Colman's comedy of The Heir at Law was 
 performed for the first time under Mr. Phelps's management, A. 
 Younge playing Daniel Dowlas ; J, T. Johnson, Dick Dowlas ; 
 Scharf, Dr. Pangloss ; and Hoskins, Zekiel Homespun ; Mrs. 
 Marston, Deborah Dowlas ; and Miss Cooper, Cicely Homespun. 
 
 On the 8rd November he produced a second new play, by 
 the Rev. James White, entitled John Savile of Haysted, he 
 playing John Savile ; G. Bennett, John Felton ; Marston, George 
 Yilliers (Duke of Buckingham) ; A. Younge, Master Clayton ; 
 Laura Addison, Lilian Savile (a charming creation, and beau- 
 tifully acted) ; Mrs. Marston, Mistress Bridget, sister to John 
 Savile. He again would have played the part he gave Bennett 
 if Bennett could have acted John Savile, but as it was, they 
 were both very fine pieces of acting, and the play was very 
 successful. On the second nisjht the author induced him to 
 do what no other man ever did before or since, and that was 
 after acting to go to his house to an entertainment got up 
 in his honour in the shape of a supper, &c., &c., at which 
 were present, besides his host, Charles Dickens, John Forster, 
 Douglas Jerrold, Clarkson Stanfield, the Landseers, Tom 
 Taylor, David Roberts, and a whole host of other celebrities — 
 indeed, a very unusual gathering of eminent men connected 
 with the drama, literature, and the arts. Of course after supper 
 his health was proposed, and every justice done to his three 
 and a half years' work at Sadler's Wells. 
 
 On 24th November Colman's Poor Gentleman was done for 
 the first time, with a strong cast, although neither he nor Miss 
 Addison were in it. 
 
 On the 29th of this month he produced, for the first time 
 also, Shakespeare's As You Like It, playing Jaques himself;* 
 Marston, Orlando ; Scharf, Touchstone ; Rosalind, Miss Cooper ; 
 and Mrs. ]\Iarston, Audrey. f On 2nd December, after the 
 comedy, Milman's tragedy of Fazio was performed for the 
 benefit of the acting manager, Mr. Greenwood, his co-lessee. 
 Marston played Fazio, and Miss Addison, Bianca. On the 
 
 * A very different conception to any other that I ever saw, and 1 have 
 seen a score or more actors in tliis part. — W. M. P. 
 
 t All as line performances ol; the four characters as I ever witnessed. — 
 
 \v. M. r.
 
 i04 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 10th the comedy of The Steward was acted for the first time, 
 with the whole strength of the company, except himself and 
 Miss Addison. 
 
 On Gth January, 1848, Money was again acted for some 
 nights; on 19th The Lady of Lyons; and on 26th January he 
 produced, for the first time, Shakespeare's comedy of Twelfth 
 Night, playing himself Malvolio; Marston, the Duke; George 
 Bennett, Sir Toby Belch ; A. Younge, Sir Andrew Aguecheek ; 
 H. Mellon, Fabian ; and Scharf, the Clown ; Viola was acted by 
 Laura Addison, Olivia by Miss Cooper, and Maria by Mrs. H. 
 Marston, — a cast (even setting aside his splendid acting as 
 Malvolio) beyond any other that could very well be named. 
 
 On Monday, 81st January, Hamlet was again perfoi'med ; 
 on 18th February Sheridan Knowles's play of Love ; and on 
 the 25th February, Werner ; 2nd March, The Bridal ; and 
 on the 9th, for the first time, Shakespeare's Merry Wives 
 of Windsor: Sir John Falstaff, Mr. Phelps; Mr. Ford, Mr. 
 Marston ; Slender, Mr. Hoskins ; Shallow, A. Younge ; Sir 
 Hugh Evans, Scharf; Doctor Caius, Williams; Bardolph, 
 Knight ; Host of the Garter, H. Mellon ; Pistol, Charles 
 Fenton; and Robin, Miss Mandlebert; Miss Cooper played 
 Mrs. Ford ; Mrs. H, Marston, Mrs. Page ; Miss Marston, Anne 
 Page ; and Mrs. W. Watson, Mrs. Quickly. This cast was also 
 of undoubted excellence, and the piece was a roar from the 
 beginning to the end, and an immense success. It was done 
 for his benefit on the first night, and he afterwards played 
 Don Felix in Mrs. Centlivre's comedy of The Wonder, Miss 
 Addison being the Donna Violante, and Miss Cooper, Flora. 
 
 On the 27th March King Lear was produced, for the first 
 time this season — cast as before; and on 12th April Westland 
 Marston's play of The Patrician's Daughter, and Murphy's 
 comedy of The Way to Keep Him, for the benefit of Miss 
 Addison. 
 
 On the 13th The Merry Wives of Windsor, and The Poor 
 Gentleman, for the benefit of Mrs. Marston, brought the fourth 
 season to a close, during which a few other plays produced 
 in the three previous years were also again acted, with those 
 specially chronicled as done for the first time.
 
 FIFTH SEASON, 1848—1849. 105 
 
 1848—1849. 
 
 The fifth season commenced on 27th September, 1848. 
 Dnrintr the recess oreat alterations had been made in the 
 theatre : the stage had been very much enlarged, new dressing- 
 rooms had been built, as well as a new green-room ; indeed, 
 vast improvements had been made in the old building. 
 
 Miss Addison was no longer a member of the company, and 
 a new actress Avas engaged to supply her place, then almost 
 a novice, although she had been tutored by Michelet in Paris 
 and Charles Kemble in London. She was prepared to try in 
 the French capital Rachel's parts, and here those of Mrs. Siddons 
 and ]\[rs. Warner. Mr. Phelps opened with Shakespeare's 
 Coriolanus, he himself playing the noble Roman for the first 
 time; G. Bennett, Cominius ; A. Younge, Menenius; Marston, 
 Aufidius ; Miss Cooper, Virgilia ; Mrs. Marston, Valeria ; and 
 Miss Glyn (the new actress), Volumnia. The production was 
 a great triumph for him.* The house was crammed to sutib- 
 cation, and the api^lause overwhelming. It was a repetition of 
 the first night of Macbeth the preceding season. 
 
 On ]lth October he produced Beaumont and Fletcher's play 
 of Rule a Wife and Have a Wife, in which he played Leon (a 
 splendid piece of acting) ; Hoskins, Michael Perez ; Miss Huddart 
 (a niece of Mrs. Warner's, and afterwards a contralto singer of 
 some pretensions) being Margaritta, and Miss Cooper, Estifania. 
 The revival was a success, and much applauded. 
 
 On 16th same month The Winter's Tale was again produced, 
 with Miss Glyn as Hermione, and other characters as before. On 
 27th Ptichelieu was again acted ; the only difference in the cast 
 was that Mr. Hoskins played De Beringhen ; Miss Cooper, Julie ; 
 and Miss Huddart, Fran(;ois. 
 
 On 11th November Venice Preserved was acted, for the purpose 
 of introducing Mr. G. K. Dickinson in the character of Jafficr, 
 
 * I sat with Charles Koiiihlp, and never shall I forget the veteran's look 
 on several occasions, wlieii he turned round to nie after all my uncle's great 
 Bcenes, and said, " 'Didt was very Jine, that was very fine." That from the 
 brother of Jolin Kemble I tlioiiglit the greatest proof I could have of Mr. 
 Phelps's excellence in this character. — W. M. P.
 
 106 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 G. Bennett playing Pierre, and Miss Glyn, Belvidera. The 
 gentleman was successful, and the piece went well. 
 
 On 13th Damon and Pythias was again revived, Marston 
 this time playing Pythias. 
 
 On Friday the 17th Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing 
 was done for the first time. He did not play in this comedy, 
 but it was well cast, and acted by the following : — H. Marston, 
 Benedick (the true successor of Charles Kemble in the part) ;, 
 Hoskins, Don Pedro ; G. K. Dickinson, Claudio ; Scharf, Verges 
 (a very fine piece of acting) ; Dogberry, A. Younge (equally good) ; 
 and Leonato, George Bennett. Miss Cooper was charming as 
 Beatrice, and Miss Huddart played Hero. On 20th The Lady 
 of Lyons was acted, with Miss Cooper as Pauline (rather weak). 
 
 On 27th he produced, for the first time under his manage- 
 ment, Browning's tragedy of A Blot in the 'Scutcheon, playing 
 himself his original character of Thorold Lord Tresbam ; * G. K. 
 Dickinson, Henry Earl of Mertoun (originally played by Ander- 
 son) ; and Miss Cooper, Mildred Tresham (originally played by 
 Helen Faucit), 
 
 On 1st December Lovell's Love's Sacrifice was again acted, 
 Marston this time playing Mathew Aylmer, and Miss Coo]3er, 
 Margaret. 
 
 On 18th Henry VIII. was again done, for the first time for 
 three years, but in four acts instead of three, as hitherto, Miss 
 Glyn being Queen Katharine. Speed the Plough was played 
 for the first time, for the benefit of Mr. Greenwood, acting 
 manager : Marston personating Bob Handy ; Hoskins, Farmer 
 Ash field ; and Mrs. Marston, Dame Ash field. 
 
 On 18th The Gamester was done, with Miss Cooper as Mrs. 
 Beverly ; and Much Ado About Nothing, for that lady's benefit. 
 
 After Christmas, in addition to the plays already mentioned, 
 The Stranger was acted some nights until the 29th January, 
 when King John was again produced — cast generally as before, 
 with the exception of the Dauphin of France and Constance, 
 now both played for the first time by Mr. G. K. Dickinson and 
 Miss Glyn. 
 
 On 22nd February Virginius was acted again for a few 
 
 * I saw it the first night, wlien it was as successful, and he was greater^ 
 if possible, than when he first acted it in 18i'2 at Drury Lane. — W. M. P.
 
 FIFTH SEASON, 1848—1849. 107 
 
 nights; and on 28th February Beaumont and Fletcher's play 
 of The Honest Man's Fortune was produced, re-modelled by 
 R. H. Home, author of Cosmo de Medici, Gregory VII., &c., 
 &c. Phelps acted Montague (a ruined nobleman) ; Marston, 
 the Duke of Orleans ; Dickinson, the Earl of Amiens ; Hoskins, 
 Longueville ; George Bennett, La Poop ; and A. Younge, 
 Malicorn ; Miss Cooper, Lamira ; and Miss Huddart, Duchess 
 of Orleans. The play was very successful, and had a good run. 
 
 On 12th March he again produced Massinger's Fatal Dowry — 
 cast as before, with the exception that Hoskins now played 
 Young Novall; and on 21st March Richard III. from the 
 original text — Miss Glyn playing Queen Margaret ; Marston, 
 Richmond ; and G. K, Dickinson, Duke of Clarence ; the other 
 principal characters as before — for his benefit, he playing the 
 Crooked-backed Tyrant, with Morton's comedy of The School 
 of Reform, in which Hoskins played Robert Tyke (a great 
 character of the elder Emery's) exceedingly well. All these 
 pieces were acted in alternation night after night until 16th 
 April, when Julius Cassar was again produced, G. Bennett 
 still playing Cassius, Marston, Marc Antony, and he himself 
 Brutus. 
 
 On 20th April Murphy's comedy of All in the Wrong was 
 acted, but Mr. Phelps and Miss Glyn were out of the bill. On 
 30th April Money was again acted ; on 7th May Jane Shore, 
 in which he did not appear. 
 
 On 10th May a new and original tragedy, by Mr. G. H. Boker 
 of Philadelphia, was produced, entitled Calaynos, which was a 
 great auccess. On this George Daniel, the celebrated critic, the 
 "D. G." of Cumberland's edition of acting plays, wrote (after 
 giving a minute description of the play) as follows : — 
 
 " Tliis tragedy is written by Mr. George II. Boker, an American 
 author, and it does honour to tlie literature of his country. The ])I(it 
 is simple and compact ; it might have had more action, but would tliat 
 have conduced to its perspicuity 1 The language is poetical and ele- 
 gant, often dignified and impassioned. The characters are skilfully 
 conceived and elaborately wrought. There is some oxcellout comedy 
 in those of the Abigail, the Secretary, and Soto. Soto's account of 
 himself — 
 
 ' ]>ut I'm tlu! grt^att'st liar in all Seville ; 
 A lia.stard born, and tlicrefor« false liy imtiiro ; — 
 My family, sir, before me, all were liars,'
 
 108 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS, 
 
 is exceedingly quaint and humorous. The Lady Alda is carefully, 
 and delicately brought out in the early scenes ; in the latter ones she 
 is terribly in earnest. Martina is the incarnation of feminine imperti- 
 nence — agreeable for her satirical wit, but detestable for her unwomanly 
 treachery. It is in Calaynos, however, that the author has put forth 
 all his strength. This pattern of true nobility is no talkative, do- 
 nothing sentimentalist; his philanthropy is active and rational. 
 Abstruse study, which too often dulls the wits and deadens the hearts 
 of other men, with him quickens the one and animates the other. It 
 is not his fault if he thinks too favourably of mankind; for that let 
 mankind bear the blame. He has learned how to prize friendship ; 
 and he will not, to what he considers false, malignant scandal, sacrifice 
 his friend. This sternly virtuous principle costs him his earthly 
 happiness and his life. He dies, as he had lived, nobly ; intent upon 
 and hopeful of the future ; a stoic up to that sublime point where 
 stoicism ceases not to be a virtue, and in those majestic attributes that 
 have made man a little lower than the angels — a man ! 
 
 " These lights and shades of human character Mr. Phelps delineated 
 with consummate art. The didactic portion of the dialogue he delivered 
 with that subdued intonation, earnestness, and energy that have won 
 him the approval of the judicious ; and where the language rises into 
 high power and passion, he, too, rose with the language, and triumph- 
 antly realized the poet's inspiration. His acting touched the minutest 
 points ; it was alternately elaborate and intense." 
 
 The cast of the principal characters in this tragedy was as 
 follows : — ■ 
 
 Calaynos (a wealthy nobleman), Mr. Phelps. 
 
 Don Luis (his friend), ... Mr. H. Marston. 
 
 Oliver (Calaynos's secretary), ... Mr. G. K, Dickinson. 
 
 Soto (Don Luis's servant), ... Mr. Hoskins. 
 
 Donna Alda (wife to Calaynos), Miss Cooper. 
 
 Martina (her maid), Mrs. H. Marston. 
 
 The third and last scene of the fourth act was one 'of Mr. 
 Phelps's most powerful pieces of acting, displaying first intense 
 passion, then pathos just as touching. Some performances of 
 The Iron Chest, The Lady of Lyons, and Virginius brought the 
 season to a close on 80th May, 1849. 
 
 1849—1850. 
 
 The sixth season commenced on 25th August, 1849, with 
 The Tempest, Mr. Henry Nye making his first appearance in 
 London as Trinculo, and a Miss Carlstein as Miranda ; Mr. 
 Dickinson also playing Ferdinand for the first time. Other
 
 SIXTH SEASON, 1849—1850. 109 
 
 characters as before. On the 30th, Mrs. Centlivre's comedy of 
 The Belle's Stratagem was produced, for the first appearance in 
 London of Miss Fitzpatrick from the Theatre Royal, Dublin, 
 as Letitia Hardy — a successful d^htd. G. Bennett was Sir 
 George Touchwood ; Hoskins, Flutter ; and Henry Marston, 
 Doricourt, the best performance of that character in our time. 
 Mrs. H. Marston was Mrs. Rackett, also a fine performance, and 
 Miss T. Bassano was Lady Frances Touchwood. 
 
 On 6th September The Love Chase was performed, for Miss 
 Fitzpatrick's Constance. Mrs. Marston was the Widow Green 
 (worthy of Mrs. Glover, the original); Hoskins, Wildrake ; 
 A. Younge, Sir William Fondlove ; and Dickinson, Master 
 Waller. On 10th September The Merchant of Venice; on 
 19th Measure for Measure, with Miss Glyn as Isabella, for the 
 first time, and Dickinson as Claudio. 
 
 On 1st October Othello, for the first time for two years, with 
 Miss Glyn as Emilia, Dickinson as Cassio, and Hoskins, Roderigo. 
 On 5th October Colley Gibber's comedy, She Would and She 
 Would Not, Hoskins playing Trappanti ; Marston, Don Philip ; 
 Dickinson, Don Octavio ; A. Younge, Don Manuel ; and Hypolita, 
 Miss Fitzpatrick. On the 8th October, Othello; 10th October, 
 Merchant of Venice. 
 
 On :22nd October Shakespeare's Antony and Cleopatra was 
 produced for the first time, fi'om the original text, and with 
 great splendour. Mr. Phelps played Antony ; G. K. Dickinson, 
 Octavius Caesar ; Marston, Sextus Pompeius ; and G. Bennett, 
 Enobarbus, Miss Glyn played Cleopatra with brilliant effect. 
 The production was a great success, drawing the town ; and the 
 critics as well as the public were loud in their praises. It had 
 a long run to crowded houses. His Antony was a noble per- 
 formance, and Bennett's Enobarbus a fine piece of declamatory 
 acting. Miss Glyn's Cleopatra was the best character she ever 
 performed, either before or after. George Daniel, the critic of 
 Cumberland's edition of acting plays, and who had seen a great 
 deal of the stage from the year 1800, and knew the Kembles 
 and George Frederick Cooke, said it was the most magnificent 
 revival that had appeared since the palviy days of the great 
 and classical John Kemble ; and F. G. Tomlins, in the Morning 
 Advertiser, wrote as follows : —
 
 no LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 Sadler's Wells. 
 
 ** Last night the tragedy of Antony and Cleopatra was performed 
 for the first time at tliis theatre — adding another to the Shakespearean 
 triumphs gained within its Avails. Tlie cast was admirable ; and the 
 able management at this justly-popular house has most efficiently 
 called into service its resources to render justice to the grand classic 
 drama which Shakespeare penned in glowing language of such poetic 
 and fervent eloquence. The difficulties must ever be great to equal 
 the ideal of ' a pair so famous ' as the renowned Eoman hero and 
 fascinating heroine of the celebrated play. The difficulties are arduous 
 enough as respects a suitable impersonation of Marc Antony ; but to 
 realize upon the stage the beauteous Egyptian Queen, whose ' person 
 beggar'd all description,' must ever far surpass them. In spite of all 
 those difficulties, however, j\Iiss Glyn, on this trying occasion, suc- 
 ceeded admirably. She imparted singular grace, animation, warmth, 
 and earnestness to her performance, and afforded in it one of the most 
 Btiiking examples we have yet witnessed of the progress she is making 
 in her profession. Throughout she was skilful and effective ; and 
 though there was an occasional abruptness in the changes of mood of 
 mind and tone of voice, those minor defects will disappear when the 
 talented actress is more at home in and accustomed to the character. 
 'The feminine arts which distinguish Cleopatra' (and 'some, of 
 which,' said the grave and sententious Johnson, 'are too low') were 
 cleverly and interestingly depicted by !Miss Glyn. In the earlier 
 portions of the play she was the gay-hearted, hero-conquering, and 
 subdiung queen ; while in the latter scenes the fall of pride and beauty, 
 in combination with the work of grief, were portrayed with great 
 power and pathos. Mr. Phelps deserves much praise for his perform- 
 ance of Marc Antony : it was careful and effective ; and the struggles 
 between an enthralling passion and a sense of departing honour and 
 glory, were represented most ably. Mr. Henry Marston Avas admir- 
 able as Pompeiiis, and Mr. G. Bennett elicited much and well-earned 
 applause by the rugged honesty of manner with which he acted the 
 part of Enobarbus. Mr. G. K. Dickinson, though he occasionally 
 allowed too much energy to carry himself and voice away, was a very 
 satisfactory Octavius Csesar ; while the other characters were filled in 
 with judgment and general efficiency. Indeed, the tout ensemble is 
 always laboriously regarded at this house, and the result is a harmony 
 between tlie vari(His elements Avhich conduces materially to the always 
 successful issue. Miss Aldridge as Octavia, and Miss T. Bassano as 
 Cliarmian, were pleasing representatives of their separate characters. 
 The tragedy has been altogether mo.st carefully and effectively pro- 
 duced. ' The attention to detail here merits high praise. All was in 
 keeping and accordance. The scenery (painted by Mr. E. Fenton) 
 was extremely good. Many of the Egyptian scenes, indeed, were 
 admirable, and told very successfully. The dresses and general
 
 SIXTH SEASON, 1849—1850. Ill 
 
 decorations, too, sliowed the same care and judicious superintendence. 
 In fact, the tragedy -was in all respects very interestingly and imjn'es- 
 sively represented and placed upon the stage ; and the loud plaudits 
 that marked its progress, and attended its conclusion, were only just 
 tributes to the merits of the whole performance. ]\liss Glyn and Mr. 
 Phelps fir.-t came forward in obedience to the loud and unanimous 
 demands of the audience ; and afterwards similar compliments were 
 ac orded to jNIr. G. I)ennett and Mr. G. K. Dickinson. The theatre 
 was very fully attended." 
 
 On 26th October Mrs. Centlivre's comedy of The Busy-Body 
 was acted, Avith Miss Fitzpatrick as Miranda ; Mrs. H. Marston, 
 Patch ; and Miss T. Bassano, Isabinda. Marston w^as Sir George 
 Airy ; A. Younge, Sir Francis Gripe ; Williams, Sir Jealous 
 Traffick ; and G. K. Dickinson, Charles. 
 
 On November 2nd, Goldsmith's She Stoops to Conquer vsras 
 acted. Marston was Young Marlow ; A. Younge, Mr. Hardcastle ; 
 Henry Nye, Tony Lumpkin ; Graham, Hastings ; and H. Mellon, 
 Sir Charles Marlow ; Mrs. Marston, Mrs. Hardcastle ; Miss 
 Fitzpatrick, Miss Hardcastle ; and Miss Aldridge, Miss Neville. 
 
 November 22nd, The Hunchback. On 26tli November Henry 
 IV. (First Part) was again acted, for the first time for three years ; 
 on this occasion with Marston as Hotspur, and Hoskins, Prince 
 of Wales ; Belford as Poins ; Miss T. Bassano, Lady Percy ; and 
 Mrs. Marston, Mrs. Quickly ; other characters as before, Phelps 
 of course being the Falstaff. 
 
 On 7th December Cherry's comedy of The Soldier's Daughter. 
 Widow Cheerly, Miss Fitzpatrick ; Frank Heartall, Marston ; 
 Governor Heartall, A. Younge ; Young Melfort, G. K. Dickinson. 
 
 On 12tli December, a new and original tragedy from the 
 pen of F. G. Tomlins, entitled Garcia, was produced, and suc- 
 cessfully, but there was not much money in it (in manager's 
 phraseology). The Morning Chronicle spoke of it thus : — 
 
 Sadler's AVells. 
 
 " Garcia, or the Noble Error, is the title of a tragedy produced here 
 last evening, and written by Mr. F. G. Tomlins. This gentleman, we 
 need scarcely remiml our readers, is well known in the litei'ary world 
 as one of the most staunch and earnest advocates of the claims of the 
 Eritish drama. He is also secretary to the Shakespeare Society. 
 
 "The scene of this drama is laid in and near Seville, and the period 
 of the acti(m is towards the close of the lifleenth century, when the 
 Inquisition, under the terrible Torquemada, held absolute dominioa
 
 112 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 over a bigoted king and people, and sought to abase and crush the 
 nobles. Garcia befongs to this class. He is the heir of his house, 
 and is about to be formally invested with his fief, which, during his 
 minority, has been held for him by his mother. The family have 
 some taint of Moorish blood in them, and are suspected by the 
 Inquisition ; but motives of humanity induce the Countess of Vigera, 
 on the night before the investiture of her son, to give temporary 
 shelter to a Morisco, who is pursued by the Familiars of the Office. 
 This brings her under the grasp of the Inquisition, and they have 
 condemned her to death. Powerful intercession, however, is made 
 with the Crown, which refuses to ratify the sentence, unless the chief 
 witness (the sheltered Morisco himself) again confesses the guilt of the 
 Countess before the Council of State. Garcia, who, according to the 
 law, is not allowed to communicate with the accused, is ignorant of 
 this, until informed of it by Don Pacheco, a noble who is leagued 
 with a wide conspiracy of nobles for the overthrow of the dreaded 
 tribunal. Pacheco, wishing to force Garcia to join them, works upon 
 his filial love, till he waylays and slays the Morisco, then on his way 
 to give his evidence at the Court; and in the commission of this 
 murder consists Garcia's ' noble error.' The crime turns out to have 
 been needlessly perpetrated ; for between the first suggestion and the 
 execution, Pacheco has learned (but conceals it from Garcia) that the 
 Countess has already been released by an unusual impulse of royal 
 clemency ; so that when the mother returns to her home, the son 
 suffers the double agony of a guilty conscience and the discovery that 
 he has been duped by Pacheco. The Countess dies of grief; and 
 Garcia, after atoning by a full confession, is led off to the dungeons of 
 the Inquisition as the curtain falls. There is, of course, a slight 
 second plot interwoven with the other. Camilla (the sister) is 
 enamoured of Pacheco, while her brother favours the suit of Don 
 Manuel. Discovering the baseness of the former, she recognizes the 
 worth and rewards the love of the rejected suitor, who has shown an 
 honourable devotion to the family in their suffering, and has, in fact, 
 been the chief agent in procuring the pardon of the Countess. 
 
 " As the spirit of the action centres in the conscience-touched struggles 
 of Garcia, between his horror of murder and his desire to save his 
 mother's life, it is open to the objection, rather technical than 
 sesthetical, that a Spanish noble of the fifteenth century, goaded by 
 such a pressure, would have thought no more of killing a ^lorisco 
 than of shooting a dog ; and dramatic probabilities are violated when 
 a witness so important as the Morisco is allowed by the Inquisitors 
 to leave his dungeon unattended, and journey alone, at night, across 
 the Sierra to the seat of the Court. But yielding these obvious 
 objections to the exigencies of the dramatic art, we have pleasure in 
 saying that in other respects the tragedy is skilfully constructed. It 
 depends on plot and incident rather than on prominency and develop- 
 ment of character, yet the various characters are boldly and clearly 
 outlined ; they portray themselves in their action and sentiment ;
 
 SIXTH SEASON. 1849—1850. 113 
 
 aud none of tlie moving force of the piece is lost in descriptions, or by 
 lying in wait for ' points.' 
 
 "The first and second acts are more than clever in construction, and 
 the opening scene of the third act (where tlie Countess is interrogated 
 in the prison of the Inquisition) is powerfully worked up. The rest 
 of the third act flags a little ; it is not even strengthened by the scene 
 w^liere Garcia is tempted by Pacheco ; but the fourth act, in which 
 Garcia's reverence for the divine command is overcome by his desire 
 to save his mother, and especially the scene when the Morisco is 
 murdered, are full of dramatic power. 
 
 " This tragedy is written for the most part in blank verse, sometimes 
 so strangely halting and imperfect as to lead to the supposition that 
 the author must have intentionally imitated what are only occasional 
 negligences in the Elizabethan models ; for the slightest care and 
 transposition of words would have rendered the rhythm steady and 
 melodious. The language is nervous and simple, and the images bold 
 and forcible ; yet there are no passages to which can be given the high 
 name of poetry, though the temptations to indulgence are many. (In 
 the other hand, there is a fine moral tone throughout ; and we could 
 quote several passages of great power, concentrated thought, and 
 beauty, but that they depend so much upon the context. It is 
 worthy of remark that the audience in the pit and gallery generally 
 selected the best passages — best in diction, as well as in sentiment^for 
 their enthusiastic applause. 
 
 " The acting of the play was excellent. Although Garcia would seem 
 to have been intended by the author as a somewhat immature and 
 irresolute person, Mr. Phelps realized a clear conception, subduing his 
 iron style to the softer features of the character with great success. 
 He threw himself into the murder scene with a terrible energy ; and 
 after his crime he depicted his gnawings of conscience and soul abase- 
 ment with true artistic power. 
 
 " ]\Iiss Glyn, as the Countess, had a character not entirely suited to 
 her, but sustained the high reputation she has ah-eady acquired with 
 the audiences of this theatre, more especially in the scene with the 
 Inquisitors (her exclamation, ' On Heaven I rely,' was a fine embodi- 
 ment of human energy, inspired by a lofty piety), aud in the final 
 scene of the tragedy. 
 
 "The other characters were more or less well filled by Miss T. 
 Bassano, Mr. H. Marston, Mr. Dickinson, and Mr. Hoskins. Am\ 
 the ' making up ' of tlie three chief Inquisitors was perfect. Tliti 
 scenery, too, is extremely good, and some effective tableau.x are pro- 
 duced ; as, for instance, in the investiture scene, and in the last scene, 
 where the soldiers of the In([uisition take possession of Garcia's castle. 
 " The tragedy was completely successful, the anther being called 
 forward by acclamation. We liave to congratulate Mr. 'Tomlins as 
 well upon the actual value of this work, as on the promise it affords 
 that we may hereafter expect from him still more valuable contributions 
 to our coteinporary dramatic literature." 
 
 I
 
 114 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 On 20th December The Gamester and She Would and She 
 Would Not, for Hoskms's benefit. On Boxing Night Venice 
 Preserved was acted. On 4th January, 1850, Measure for 
 Measure, with Marston as the Duke. On 16th January Calay- 
 nos was again acted ; and on 21st, the first four acts of Henry 
 VIII. On 28th The Merchant of Venice. On 1st February, The 
 Honeymoon, he playing the Duke Aranza ; Hoskins, Rolando ; 
 Belford, Count Montalban ; and A. Younge, Jaques, the Mock 
 Duke ; Miss Fitzpatrick, Juliana. The Hunchback had been 
 acted several nights during this season, with G. Bennett as 
 the Hunchback ; Marston, Sir Thomas Clifford ; Hoskins, Lord 
 Tinsel ; Dickinson, Modus ; Miss Glyn, Julia ; and Miss 
 Fitzpatrick, Helen. 
 
 On 11th February a new romantic play by George Bennett 
 (tragedian), entitled Retribution, was produced, in which the 
 whole company performed. This piece also was very successful, 
 and his performance of Blackbourn was a thing to be remem- 
 bered. It was dedicated to Mr. Phelps by the author in the 
 following terms: — 
 
 To SAMUEL PHELPS, ESQ. 
 
 " My dear Sir, 
 
 " I eagerly embrace the opportunity afforded me in 
 dedicating this play to you, to express, though briefly, yet 
 earnestly, the unfeigned pleasure and lively gratitude with 
 which I do so. 
 
 " Your acute discrimination, and your unwearied exertions as 
 stage manager, as well as the inimitable manner in which you 
 sustained your part in the play, call for a more lively expression 
 of admiration and thankfulness from me than I can find words 
 to convey. From the moment you became lessee and director 
 of Sadler's Wells Theatre, the legitimate drama, which had 
 been so long in a drooping state, began to revive. Aided by your 
 untiring efforts, and fostered by your skilful exertions, it has 
 progressed, and been encouraged by a generous and discerning 
 public, as has been amply evidenced by the six cheei'ing and 
 successful seasons which have crowned your laudable zeal. 
 Known as it is, that your aim has been 
 
 'To hold, as 't were, the mirror up to Nature,' 
 
 and in all things to promote the objects of dramatic art, it 
 cannot be surprising that your laudable course should have
 
 SIXTH SEASON, ] 849— 1850. 115 
 
 stimulated others to follow so excellent an example, and secured 
 to yourself the high esteem and great respect of all around you. 
 In which feeling no one, believe me, more largely participates 
 than, 
 
 " My dear Sir, 
 
 " Your sincere Friend and grateful Servant, 
 
 "George J. Bennett." 
 
 " D. G.," in Cumberland's edition of acting plays, says : — 
 " Retribution was first produced at Sadler's Wells on Monday, 
 11th February, 1850. It was received by a judicious and 
 crowded audience with unanimous applause — another triumph 
 for that (now) classic little theatre. Mr. Phelps played Black- 
 bourn, and a performance more discriminating and powerful 
 we have not seen for many a day. His grand climax was at 
 the end of the third act, than which nothing could be finer. 
 Mr. Bennett was the Sir Baldwin, and he hit off the rascally 
 Roundhead to the life. His soliloquies were carefully studied 
 and energetically delivered. The gallant young Cavalier, Philip, 
 and the delicate stripling who dies for love, Edwin, were ably 
 represented by Mr. Henry Marston and Mr. G. K. Dickinson. 
 Mr. Graham (a very correct and rising actor) made the most 
 (as he always does) of a small part, Humphrey; Mr. A. Younge 
 entered body and soul into the congenial character of Sir Robert ; 
 and Miss Glyn, in Alice, was all the most fastidious critic could 
 desire." The cast was — Sir Baldwin Briarly, Mr. G. Bennett; 
 Sir Robert Raby, Mr. A. Younge ; Edwin Briarly, Mr. G. K. 
 Dickinson ; Philip, Mr. H. Marston ; Blackbourn, Mr. Phelps ; 
 Captain Rowley, Mr. Belford ; Humphrey, Mr. Graham ; Alice 
 Raby, ]\Iiss Glyn. 
 
 The Wccldy Neios spoke of it as follows : — 
 
 Sadler's "Wells. 
 
 " Mr. George Ecnnett, an actor long deservedly pojinlar in several 
 Shakespearean characters, has, following the good old custom of an 
 actor heconiing dramatist, brought out at this tlieatre a very successful 
 five-act drama, which he properly entitles 'a Romantic Play.' It 
 would be wrong to test it by the Elizabethan drama of that class, for 
 the romantic plays of that era combined the higluist s])ecies of poetry 
 with the most exact ami beautifnl characterization. Mr. Iiennett has 
 not drawn his inspiration from those deep and translucent wells ; but, 
 
 1 2
 
 116 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 coining nearer to liis cwn time, has dipped into the fountains of Scott 
 and the French school. So far as he has gone, he has been perfectly 
 successful, and has manifested an ingenuity of contrivance and readi- 
 ness and animation of utterance which insure him a highly-satisfactory 
 success. The story is complicated, yet clearly developed, and so well 
 contrived as to unwind itself so as to constantly stimulate the interest 
 of the audience, and at the same time afford genuine opportunities for 
 pointed situations and well-sustained scenes. It is said to be foiinded 
 on a tale that appeared in Tlie Keepsake, about 1839 ; but we can 
 detect other sources whence materials and ideas have been gleaned. 
 One effective scene corresponds very closely with the opening inter- 
 view in Scott's BoJieby, and another with one in TJie Toicer of Nesle. 
 This is of little moment, as the effort of a dramatist, and especially of 
 an actor-dramatist, must be to produce striking and interesting effects : 
 and, certainly, we have not for a long time s^en a play where so much 
 interest is so genuinely excited. Of profound dramatij^ interest, either 
 serious or comic, there is but little, Scott being, rather than Shakespeare, 
 the model of the author. The superficies of character, rather than 
 character itself, is given ; and the language is rather happily descrip- 
 tive of external events than indicative of those deep-seated emotions 
 which characterize so peculiarly the old and true dramatist. In this 
 respect it may be said to bear the same relation to the great drama 
 that Rob Eoy does to Richard III., or the Bride of Lammermoor to 
 Hamlet. It is essentially of the melodramatic school, but then it is 
 certainly of the premiere qualite ; and is not without touches of the 
 deeper and grander class of plays. 
 
 " It would give but a very imperfect notion of the effect of the drama 
 to detail the story as it ultimately appears, for the merit of the construc- 
 tion consists in the artful mode in which each event is made to tell on 
 the audience and to produce stirring scenes. The fairer method is to 
 follow out the development as it occurs in the acting. The scene 
 opens with an old Cavalier, his daughter, and an adopted son, which 
 adopted son is accepted by the daughter, and wonderful to say, 
 approved of by the father. An amiable and honourable youth, of a 
 very effeminate character, is dying for love of Alice (not Gray, but) 
 Raby ; and one of the best scenes in the play is the passionate declara- 
 tion of this youth. The first act ends with a scene between Philip 
 and Alice, the youth (Edwin) having been discovered in making his 
 declaration. The second act opens up new ground. Sir Baldwin 
 (the father of Edwin) discloses by a remorseful soliloquy that he has 
 induced a former comrade to destroy his wife from a false suspicion, 
 and so possessed himself of estates which the deceived husl)and has 
 abandoned. It appears, however, that this husband (De Lacy) has, 
 after twenty years' absence, returned rich from Ijuccaneering in the 
 western seas ; and a comrade (Blackbourn), who pretends to have been 
 wronged, has been induced by Sir Baldwin to shoot him in a melre 
 in one of the battles of the period. Here is the situation in Rokehy, 
 between Lord Oswald and Bertram Risingham. We cannt)t, however,
 
 SIXTH SEASON, 1849—1850. 117 
 
 follow out the iucreasiug involvement and evolvemeiit of the plot ; 
 suffice it to say, that iu the play the assumed ruffian and presumed 
 tool is De Lacy himself, Philip the foundlmg is his son ; and thus 
 efficient opportunity is afforded Mr. Phelps, who played De Lacy, 
 alias Blackbourn, for that alternate ruggedness of maimer and parental 
 pathos which no man on the stage can give with such effect. The 
 discovery between the father and the son, and the story of his life as 
 revealed to his new-found son, drew down universal applause, and 
 ^Ir. Pheljis was obliged to appear at the end of the third act to receive 
 the especial approbation of the audience. The latter portion of the 
 play becomes more melodramatic, and Sir Baldwin is somewhat too 
 monstrous in his guilt. He betrays his party (that of the Parliament) ; 
 insinuates to Alice, in order to prevent the marriage, that Philip is 
 her natural brother ; and at last conducts himself rather after the 
 stage than the natural fashion of such characters. He has all the 
 Eaby family in his power, forces on the marriage, threatens death and 
 destruction, but is arrested in his accumulated guilt by the discoveries 
 made by De Lacy and the exposition of his universal villainy. The 
 applause was loud at each of these climaxes, but, we must say, was 
 more uproarious than judicious. The early part of the play is by far 
 the best, Ijotli in writing, characterization, and construction ; and is 
 of an order that must entitle Mr. Bennett to a very fair position as a 
 dramatic author. As a stage piece, it had many advantages : the 
 scenery was entirely new for it ; the stage business evidently the work 
 of the author ; the actors suitably cast, and admirably fitted for their 
 respective parts : Mr. Bennett's own character, of course, elaborately 
 and well developed ; Mr. Phelps's in every way fitted to liim as 
 regards physi(|ue and powers ; Miss Glyn's part, heightened l)y the 
 fear of committing of incest, on purpose to give her the opportunity 
 of expressing the deep emotions she can so well command — in all 
 respects a difficult and ineffective part. The violence of a passion so 
 great, thrown out suddenly from the bosom of a gentle and conven- 
 tional young lady, is a very trying performance to the actress. She 
 is without accessorial aids, and has to give the gesture and emotion of 
 the deei)est tragedy without the assistance of the pall and flowing 
 robes. ]\Iiss Glyn, however, gave considerable power and effect to 
 the situation, but it was felt to be an unnecessary introduction, and 
 too obviously introduced for the purpose of producing a strong effect. 
 "Mr. Younge, as the old Cavalier, did not seem to us well suited ; while 
 Mt. Marston played all that was given to him by the author with the 
 thorough artistic appreciation which characterizes his performances. 
 The pliiy and the jierformance are, however, both highly to l)e com- 
 mended, and doubtless it will enjoy a long run, suithig, as it does so 
 admirably, audience, performers, and theatre." 
 
 On 15th February The Wife was again produced for the 
 d^but of a Miss Edwardes as Mariana, Marston was St. Pierre ;
 
 118 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 G. Bennett, Ferrado; and Dickinson, Leonardo. On 22nd 
 February Love's Sacrifice, for the same lady. 
 
 On 8th March Massinger's A New Way to Pay Old Debts 
 was again acted, Bennett being Lord Lovel ; Marston, Welborn ; 
 A. Younge, Marrall ; H. Nye, Justice Greedy ; Graham, AUworth ; 
 Miss Edwardes, Margaret ; and Mr. Phelps himself in his great 
 character of Sir Giles Overreach.* 
 
 On 20th March, for his own benefit, he reproduced Macbeth, 
 from the text as done in 1847. Cast as then, with the exception 
 of Miss Glyn being now Lady Macbeth, and Miss Edwardes, Lady 
 Macduff. He also played (for that night only) Jeremy Diddler 
 in Raising the Wind, a favourite piece of eccentric light comedy 
 of his. His Macbeth was, if possible, even greater than before, 
 and the piece had again a long run. 
 
 G. K. Dickinson played for his own benefit, on 11th April, 
 Claude Melnotte and Doricourt. The Stranger and Werner 
 Avere both again acted in alternation with Macbeth, as Mr. 
 Phelps could not act the latter character more than two nights 
 toofether. The Gamester and William Tell were also acted 
 several nights, as well as Douglas and John Bull. 
 
 On 16th May a performance was given in aid of the fund 
 for the Great Exhibition of 1851, under the patronage of the 
 Duke of Cambridge, and on the committee were all the leading 
 literary men of the day. 
 
 The performance consisted of an address written by R. H. 
 Home, and spoken by Mr. Phelps; the four acts of Henry 
 VIII. ; Ernst, the great violinist, played Le Carnaval de Venise ; 
 the trial scene from The Merchant of Venice, with Mr. Home as 
 Shylock (a great mistake of his the attempting it) ; a concert 
 by several celebrated vocalists ; and the farce of The Silent 
 Woman. The prices this night were nearly doubled, and the 
 amount given to the fund a good one, for the house was 
 crammed. 
 
 On 23rd May Phelps acted Octavian in The Mountaineers, 
 for the benefit of Mr. Greenwood, for the first time in London ; 
 
 * His performance of this part will never be forgotten by me. ]\Iany 
 old play-goers have told me over and over again that it was a more 
 powerful and terrific piece of acting than Edmund Kean's. I certainly 
 cannot myself imagine anything could surpass it. — W. M. P.
 
 SEVENTH SEASON, 1850—1851. 119 
 
 and the theatre closed on the 2-ith with The School for Scandal 
 and The Wonder, for Miss Fitzpatrick's benefit, in neither of 
 which did Mr, Phelps appear. 
 
 1850—1851. 
 
 The seventh season commenced on 17th August, 1850, with 
 Hamlet for three nights ; and on Thursday, 22nd, Leigh Hunt's 
 play of The Legend of Florence (originally produced by Madame 
 Vestris during her management of Covent Garden some nine 
 years before), Phelps playing Francesco Agolanti, originally 
 performed by Mr. Moore ; and an American actor, Mr. Waller, 
 Antonio Rondinelli, played originally by Anderson ; Miss Glyu, 
 Ginevra, primarily played by Ellen Tree. This production was 
 very successful, and with Hamlet, William Tell, Coriolanus, &c., 
 it ran until 30th September, when Macbeth was again produced, 
 with Miss Glyn as Lady Macbeth. 
 
 On -itli October Much Ado About Nothing was again produced, 
 with Miss Glyn as Beatrice. On 14th October Othello was 
 again enacted, a Miss Lyons making her first appearance as 
 Desdemona, and Miss Glyn as Emilia. Mr. Phelps was Othello ; 
 Marston, lago; and Hoskins, Cassio. On 18th October Measure 
 for Measure was again repeated, with Miss Glyn as Isabella, 
 and Marston as the Duke. On 23rd October Julius Csesar was 
 done ; on 25th The Honeymoon, with Miss Glyn as the Duchess, 
 and Marston as the Duke. On 28th Cymbeline was reproduced, 
 with Miss Lyons as Imogen. On 1st November Venice Pre- 
 served, with Marston, G. Bennett, and Miss Glyn in the 
 principal characters. 
 
 On 7th November (first time for two years) The Bridal, with 
 Miss Glyn as Evadne. On 13th The Hunchback, with Miss 
 Glyn as Julia. On 16th The Gamester, Phelps playing Beverly ; 
 Bennett, Stukely ; Marston, Lewson ; and Miss Glyn, Mrs. 
 Beverly. 
 
 On 20th November John Webster's tragedy of The Duchess 
 of Malfi, reconstructed for stage representation by R. H. Home, 
 was produced with great success. A prologue written by Mr.
 
 120 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 Horne was spoken each evening by Mr. Hoskins. The cast 
 was as follows : — 
 
 Ferdinand (Duke of Calabria), Mr. Phelps. 
 
 Cardinal Graziani (his Brother), Mr. Graham. 
 
 Malateste (Prince of Albano), Mr. H. ^Mellon. 
 
 Antonio Bologno (Steward to the Duchess), ... Mr. Waller. 
 
 Delio (a Friend of Antonio), Mr. C. Wheatleigh. 
 
 Bosola (a Man of desperate Fortunes), ... Mr. G. Bennett. 
 
 Marina (Duchess of Malti, and Sister of the Duke), Miss Glyn. 
 
 Here, again, Mr. Phelps would have preferred to play Bosola, 
 but there was no one to play the Duke. His acting (in the 
 last act especially, depicting wolf-madness) was very highly 
 spoken of by the critics, and the play had a long run. 
 
 The Winter's Tale, and Brutus, or the Fall of Tarquin, were 
 again played some nights; and on 19th December Othello was 
 acted for Hoskins's benefit, he trying Othello, and Mr. Phelps 
 playing lago for the first time under his own management. On 
 Boxino- Nisfht Isabella was acted, and then The Duchess of Malfi 
 for the entire month of January, 1851, with occasional perform- 
 ances of The Winter's Tale and The Bridal. On 80th Januaiy 
 Cymbeline was acted ; and on 8rd February Feudal Times; 7th, 
 Love's Sacrifice; 10th, Feudal Times; and 14th, Fazio ; 17th, 
 Hamlet ; 20th, Othello ; 24th, A Winter's Tale. 
 
 On 27th King John was again produced for his benefit, and 
 the farce of Turning the Tables, in which he played Jeremiah 
 Bumps. The house was a very crowded one, and it was the night 
 after Mr. Macready had taken his farewell of the stage at Drury 
 Lane ; and those who were present at both performances said 
 it seemed like a repetition of the preceding night as regarded 
 the enthusiasm of the public, Phelps receiving as great a recep- 
 tion on first being seen as Macready did the night before. 
 They evidently meant to show him that he stood at least as 
 hio-h in their regard as the future leader of the stage, as his 
 predecessor had done in the past ; there was no mistaking their 
 meaning, and his great popularity. 
 
 Then followed, in alternation with King John, Fazio, The 
 Winter's Tale, Henry VIII. , The Duchess of Malfi, Measure for 
 Measure, Eichelieu, The Wife, and Hamlet, to Easter. On 
 Easter Monday The Merchant of Venice was acted; on 28th
 
 EIGHTH SEASON, 1851—1852. 12l 
 
 April, Werner; 8rd May, The Stranger; 5th, Hamlet; 14th, 
 Virginias; 19th, Othello; and A New Way to Pay Old Debts 
 to Whitsuntide, Whit Monday, Fazio and Heir at Law, for 
 Mrs. Marston's benefit. 
 
 1851—1852. 
 
 The eighth season commenced on 26th July, 1851 ; and as 
 nearly if not all the pieces which he had produced during his 
 first seven seasons were reproduced from time to time during 
 the eighteen years of his management, henceforth we shall only 
 enumerate new^ productions. 
 
 His old friend and coadjutor, Mrs. Warner, having made up 
 her mind to go to America, he entered into arrangements that 
 she should appear in a few of her principal characters, so as 
 to give her a good start. She appeared as Queen Katharine, 
 Hermione, Lady Macbeth, Portia, and Mrs. Oakley for twelve 
 niohts. 
 
 Miss Glyn then took up her original position for a short time, 
 and opened as Lady Macbeth on 11th August; but soon after, 
 having been cast for the Queen-Mother in Hamlet (a character 
 she had frequently acted), she declined to appear in it, and the 
 consequence was she left the theatre. Her position was soon 
 after filled up by Miss Goddard from the Hull Theatre, and 
 she opened in Lady Macbeth also, on 8th September ; she was 
 successful, but did not possess Miss Glyn's abilities. 
 
 On the 15th September he produced with great splendour 
 Shakespeare's Timon of Athens, and again made a tremendous 
 effect on play-goers generally in the character of Timon. Old 
 habitues and the critics who remembered Edmund Kean in this 
 character all said Phelps surpassed him. Some fine criticisms 
 on this performance and production will be found further on. 
 George Bennett's Apemantus was a worthy companion portrait; 
 Marston this time played Alcibiades (on its next production 
 Apemantus), and the whole strength of this fine working 
 company was engaged in the piece. Timon was played some 
 forty nights between its first production and Christmas. 
 
 On 25th September the comedy of Secrets Worth Knowing was 
 acted, with Hoskins and Mrs. Marston in the princii)al characters.
 
 122 LIFE-WOUK OF PHELPS. 
 
 On 16th October Miss Fanny Vining made her first appear- 
 ance as Beatrice, in Much Ado About Nothing^ ; and Mr. 
 Frederick Robinson, from the Theatre Royal, Edinburgh, who 
 appeared on the first night of the season as Cromwell, now 
 replaced Mr. G. K. Dickinson as Claudio, 
 
 On 27th October Mrs, Lovell's new play of Ingomar, which 
 had been produced at Drury Lane by Anderson with some suc- 
 cess, was put on the stage by Mr. Phelps, he playing Ingomar ; 
 Bennett, Myron ; J. W. Ray, Polydor ; Barrett, Lycon ; and Miss 
 Vining, Parthenia, The play went well, and the public were 
 pleased with it. There was some very nice writing in it, but the 
 principal characters were not sufficiently strong. 
 
 On the 27th November, for the benefit of Mr. Greenwood, he 
 produced Macklin's comedy of The Man of the World, playing 
 Sir Pertinax Macsycophant for the first time. He made one of 
 his very greatest successes in this character, and it remained to 
 the last one of his most 'po'pidcvr assumptions, George Daniel and 
 other old critics and play-goers declaring it to be finer than 
 George Frederick Cooke's, Avhich had been the only other great 
 delineation of the character ; Macklin himself was the original. 
 It was attempted by an actor named Maywood (who played 
 comic Old Men in farces) at the Hay market in 1840, and the 
 piece had some little success; but this, we think, was more 
 to be attributed to Mr. Phelps's acting than to anything else, 
 although he was only the Egerton on tliat occasion. Charles 
 Young acted it in his time, and Edmund Kean, we believe, 
 tried it, but in English and not Lowland Scotch, if we are 
 correctly informed. Mr. Phelps's performance, however, of this 
 character never failed to draw immense audiences wherever he 
 appeared in it, in either England, Scotland, or Ireland. . It was 
 a piece of acting once seen never forgotten. 
 
 The following is from the Morning Advertiser, and was written 
 by F. G. Tomlins :— 
 
 Sadler's Wells. 
 
 " The occasion of Mr, Greenwood's benefit last night at this theatre 
 has given the toAvn the opportunity of seeing Mr. Phelps in a new line 
 of character, and the performance of Macklin's somewhat old-fashioned 
 but admirable comedy of The INIan of the World has enabled that able 
 and versatile actor to add another character to his well-stored repertoire.
 
 EIGHTH SEASON, 1851—1852. 123 
 
 " Sir Pertinax Macsycophant has, -with some trifling exceptions, when 
 it has been revived to show the capacity of some actor to enunciate the 
 Scottisli dialect, heen abandoned since the poAverful and sarcastic Cooke 
 gave the terrible portrait in its full vitality. The celebrated men who 
 have since occupied the foremost position of the theatre have not 
 attempted the delineation, though it embodies the most available and 
 the most legitimate means of showing the actor's highest art — the 
 power of impersonation, and the enunciation of a drastic satire of the 
 highest flavour and the most potent effect. Tlie character is in itself 
 repulsive ; the author has drawn it with a rigid regard for truth that 
 seems to have been dictated by a personal abhorrence. It has not one 
 popular speech — it has not one graceful phrase — it has not a single 
 redeeming point. The resources of the theatre have not been called in 
 to aid its situations or enforce its points. It is a character Avith which 
 nothing can be done but by the aid of the purest art— it tests the 
 actor in every word — it demands in every line the consummate per- 
 former. It is admirably drawn, and contrives to rivet the attention for 
 five acts, and to supply the place of plot, sentiment, and action. To 
 succeed in it is to achieve a high triumph, and this triumph Mr. 
 Phelps attained by the purest and severest exercise of his art. 
 
 "From his first interview with his son till his diabolical and final 
 curse, every tone, every look was emphatic and characteristic. In his 
 devilish history of the crawling arts by which he attained station and 
 wealth, he rose to the sublime of comedy, and the bitter satire thrilled 
 whilst it almost appalled. It unmasked the villain, but the character 
 was admirably developed, and, safe m a nobler state of society, we 
 could afford to laugh, or rather to scoff, at the uninitigated scoundrel. 
 We felt that the whip of satire was in a powerful hand, and the sordid 
 vices were receiving a wholesome and severe chastisement. The great 
 merit of the performance consists in its being given with tremendous 
 power, and in its yet preserving the vis comica. Such a scourging of 
 vice elevates the theatre into a wholesome purifier, and its professors 
 into valuable assistants to moral teachers. The portrayal, as a piece 
 of art, is beyond common praise, and must attract every connoisseur 
 of the drama to witness it. We have not space to point out the 
 various excellences of the portrait, but can truly sny we never remem- 
 Ijer — though we remember the whole of the career of the elder Kean 
 and of Miss O'Neill — to have seen a more perfect and more potent 
 piece of acting. 
 
 "The ccmiedy was tastefully put on the stage, and performed in all 
 respects Avell by Mr. Barrett, IMr. F. Robinson, INIrs. Marston, and 
 !Miss Fitzpatrick, the latter being very agreeable and charming in 
 Lady Kodolpha Lumbercourt. The house was crowded in every part 
 by a most respectable audience, the esteemed character of the acting 
 manager always drawing a reniai'kably full house. And we are sure 
 the lovers of dramatic art will feel obliged to hiui for giving them tlie 
 opjiortunity of seeing Mr. Phelps to such extraordinary advantage. It 
 will revive the popularity of u comedy which by no means should
 
 124 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 become obsolete ; for though originally perhaps a little too nmcli 
 directed against a particular nation, it is still universal in its application." 
 
 On 6th March, 1852, he produced another new play by the 
 Rev. James White, entitled James VI., or the Govvrie Plot. He 
 himself acted the King ; Marston, the Earl of Gowrie ; Bennett, 
 Logan of Restalrig ; F, Robinson, Alexander Ruthven; H. 
 Mellon, Sir John Ramsay ; and Barrett, John Ayliffe (English 
 Envoy) ; Miss Goddard, the Countess Gowrie ; and Miss CooiDer, 
 Catharine Logan. On 9th he played it for his own benefit. It 
 was very successful, and enhanced both his and the author's 
 reputation. His acting of James with the Scottish dialect was 
 looked upon as another marvellous feat, and his make-up for the 
 character was perfect. 
 
 On 22nd April Talfourd's tragedy of Ion was acted, and again 
 on the 28th, for F. Robinson's benefit, Mr. Phelps playing his 
 great character of Adrastus.* 
 
 1852—1853. 
 
 The ninth season commenced on 28th August;, 1852, with The 
 Man of the World ; then followed First Part of Henry IV. ; and 
 on 1st September, for the first time, Shakespeare's comedy of 
 All's Well that Ends Well, in which he played Parolles with 
 great success.f 
 
 Then followed King Lear, The Merchant's Wedding, Arden of 
 Feversham, The City Madam, The Stranger, A Woman Never 
 Vext; and on 25th October Henry V. was produced for the first 
 time, with a fine cast. He played the King, and right nobly did 
 he bear himself. On this production we cannot do better than 
 at once quote F. G. Tomlins's criticism as it appeared in the 
 Morning Advertiser : — 
 
 * This performance had such an effect upon the young actor that he 
 told me only eighteen months ago he had never forgotten it, in fact, it 
 was as vivid at that moment as the night he first acted it with him, and 
 would be remembered whilst life lasted. — W. M. P. 
 
 t I sat that night next to Mr. Justice Talfourd, who I remember was 
 very loud in his praises. F. G. Tomlins, I remember, said he would rather 
 it had had a little more of the FalstafF in it and less of the Pistol, but that 
 nevertheless it was a very fine performance. — W. M. P.
 
 NINTH SEASON. 1852—1853. 125 
 
 Sadler's Wells Theatre. 
 
 "This age has been prolific in profound commentators on onr great 
 national dramatist, and amongst these lucid expositors of Shakespeare 
 the managers of this theatre have a fair right to be included. They 
 have deeply studied the great plays, and have illustrated them with a 
 care and intelligence which has reproduced them in consonance with 
 the mighty author's conception. If, unfortunately, their illustration 
 is of a temporary kind, it would be unjust that the acknowledgment 
 of their efforts should be equally fleeting ; and it therefore becomes us 
 to record the pains and ability with which they produce in succession 
 these powerful dramas. 
 
 " The latest fruit of their labours is the reproduction of the war 
 play of Henry V. last night ; and in so doing they have illustrated 
 it historically and archteologically, as well as dramatically. The 
 costumes have been attended to wdth as much care as expense ; the 
 architecture has been carefully considered ; and the illustrations have 
 all the gorgeousness that belongs to the middle ages. The play must 
 always have been a spectacle, and a showy one, although the constant 
 excuses of the Chorus shoAV us hoAV incompetent the author felt the 
 appliances of his stage were to express the grand and magnificent 
 events he sought to illustrate. We may here incidentally mention, 
 that the Chorus sounds like a continuous reply to attacks, now lost to 
 us, on the inefliciency of the then theatrical appointments to represent 
 such important and exciting scenes ; and in repelling these attacks, 
 the great philosophic poet has pointed out the true sources of scenic 
 illusion and of dramatic effect, as well as the office and the limits that 
 the imagination should exercise, with a profundity and truth that the 
 metaphysicians have frequently failed to exemplify. The Chorus has 
 most properly been retained, and appears between each scene exalted 
 on a framed platform, in his costume of Time. Mr. Marston recited 
 this sonorous and imaginative verse with his usual appropriate taste ; 
 and so far from its being tedious, it was felt, as it doubtless was 
 intended to be, a relief from the din, roar, and conflict of the warlike 
 scenes. 
 
 " The i)lay itself affords little scope for acting, though the piercing 
 genius of the author can never fail to imbue, with the most vigorous 
 life and truth, scenes that in any other hands would have been 
 mere connective dialogue. Mr. Phelps, who was the Henry V., did 
 not lighten the heavy dialogue with which the heretofore gay prince 
 commcncos this play, and the two first acts, it must be said, have 
 too mucli of the homely in them. When, however, the war really 
 commences, the fiery chivalry of the King breaks forth, and the third 
 and fourth acts abound with s])irit-stirriiig appeals that cannot fail to 
 rouse the enthusiasm of an English audience. In the nol)le s]ieech 
 beginning 'Who is it wishes more,' it is not the mere bloodthirsty 
 instincts of our nature that are appealed to, but the latent and
 
 126 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 indomitable daring and energies that make us the monarchs of the 
 billows, and inventors and guides of the fiery steam-engine. It is 
 calling up that spirit of the Saxon-Xorman man, which is sho"wn in 
 his unadorned and unornamented chivalry. Indeed, the whole play 
 is intensely national, and exemplifies in the subtlest mode the mixture 
 of the heroic and the homely which characterizes the modern Briton. 
 The whole of the battle scenes exemplify the plainness, and almost 
 simplicity, of the outwardly dull men, who have within so bright and 
 pure a flame of the most chivalric heroism. All this was deeply felt 
 and admirably given by all concerned, and most prominently and 
 markedly by Mr. Phelps, who was eloquent without spouting, and 
 who, when his heroic nature bursts into words, takes care to relapse 
 into his hatred and disgust at such display as soon as he can, by 
 descending to the colloquial and simple as rapidly as possible. This 
 was admirably marked in his scene with Williams, and again to 
 perfection in his wooing of Katharine. This last was as excellent a 
 piece of high comedy as we have seen, and proves how great an artist 
 Mr, Phelps is. 
 
 " The great length of the performance and the lateness of the hour 
 prevents our going minutely into the merits of this revival. We can 
 only say that the scenery and machinery are excellent, and highly 
 ingenious. The besieging of Harfleur, in the third act, was admirably 
 and picturesquely managed, and brought down a perfect storm of 
 approbation. And the like may be said of the field and battle of 
 Agincourt, which gave scope for some admirable moonlight and day- 
 light effects. The interiors were equally effective, and the whole 
 reflects the highest credit on the taste, research, and talent of all 
 concerned. 
 
 " The play-bill is so crowded with names that it is impossible to 
 notice them all ; though it really may be said, from the zeal and care 
 displayed, that all deserve notice. Mrs. Marston's admirable delinea- 
 tion of Mrs. Quickly must, however, have especial notice, for no one 
 remains on the stage to equal her in such parts ; and she is quite 
 equal to Mrs. Glover or any of the departed illustrators of such 
 characters. Mr. Bennett's Pistol was forcible, and much admired ; 
 but Ave cannot help wishing this truly clever artist could in some way 
 contrive to conceal his strenuous ettbrts. Mr. Knight's Bardolph was 
 very good ; as was also Mr. Lewis Ball's Fluellen. We cannot, how- 
 ever, particularize further, though '^h•. Barrett's Williams deserves 
 especial notice for its sense and truth. The lovers of Shakespeare, 
 however, who still comprise a large proportion of our population, 
 cannot fail to see and judge for themselves, and we are quite sure 
 every one will find himself well rewarded by witnessing this magnifi- 
 cent illustration of one of Shakespeare's most gorgeous plays." 
 
 The Lady of Lyons, The Widow of Cornhill, The Hunchback, 
 Othello, Might and Right (a new play), The Gamester, The
 
 NINTH SEASON, 1852—1853. 127 
 
 Cavalier, As You Like It, William Tell, The Wife, and Richelieu 
 were then played alternately with the new productions until 
 17th March, 1853, when he produced the Second Part of Henry 
 IV., playing himself The King and Justice Shallow ; Barrett, 
 Falstaff; and Frederick Robinson, the Prince of Wales. 
 
 Of Phelps's great success in the two characters he represented 
 in this last-named play F. G. Tomlins wrote as follows in the 
 Morning Advertiser : — 
 
 Sadler's Wells. 
 
 " Last night the manager of this theatre, Mr. Phelps, took his 
 benetit, and we are glad to be able, for the taste of the metropolis, to 
 say that the house was crowded from the ceiling to the floor, and that 
 the respectability and intelhgence of the audience were such as to be 
 worthy of the great artist they assembled to compliment. Mr. Phelps 
 Vk'as determined on this occasion to show the glory of his art ; and 
 possessing the extraordinary versatility requisite for the unprecedented 
 attempt, determined to represent two most opposite characters in the 
 same play ; and performed the regal Henry IV. and the fatuous Justice 
 Shallow in the Second Part of Henry IV. Such an attempt, if it comes 
 tardily off, smacks of assurance and imbecility, but if thoroughly per- 
 formed, shows that the artist is thoroughly master of his art. We are 
 bound to say that, in this instance, it was a complete triumph ; the 
 regal and paternal king being as broadly and grandly defined and 
 personated as was the fatuous and senile justice. The step from the 
 grand and energetic Bolingbroke to the paltry-minded Shallow is a 
 wide one, and the two characters may be said each to lie on the extreme 
 confines of human nature. To mark by caricature the strong contrast 
 between the two is within the capacity of a small artist ; but to give 
 in its breadth and depth tlie deep paternal affection, the right royal 
 dignity, and the setting in death of an energetic mind of the largest 
 scope, and in the same hour to delineate the expiring fatuity of a vain, 
 feeble, and petty intellect and character, is an exercise of the histrioiuc 
 art that is not often witnessed. It shows in its enactor the fullest 
 possession of the one great quality of all others most essential to an 
 actor — the art of personation. It shows that jJasticity of imagination 
 which can conceive and represent mankind in all its varied and varying 
 jjhases, and raises the office of the actor into the highest department of 
 literature and the arts, as the exponent and illustrator of our race and 
 nature. 
 
 " Tlie Second Part of Henry IV. is but occasionally performed, 
 although no play abounds more in undeniably Shakespearean matter. 
 'I'he interview between the great dying King and his riglit royal son is 
 unsurjiassed as a dual scene in the whole range of the world's drama — 
 filleil as it is with grand and elevated sentiments and reflections, ami tho 
 prufouiidest revelations of the paternal feeling. It was listened to by
 
 I2S LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 an overcrowded house with the intensest attention, and left no bosom 
 unmoved by its large and manly pathos. 
 
 " Mr. Phelps's delineation was unrivalled, and it is gratifying to 
 know that when performed in the precincts of the very palace where 
 some of its scenes may have actually been enacted, it was acknowledged 
 to be truly roj^al. We are not disposed to attach to regal criticism 
 any great potency, but if there be a point on which it may be deemed 
 competent to give an opinion, it is upon regal bearing and elevated 
 manners ; and we are therefore gratified to know that in these respects 
 Mr. Phelps's performance produced the strongest effect. But all majesty 
 fades before the majesty of such transcendent genius as that of our great 
 dramatist, who seems to delineate human nature in its infinite variety 
 with the ease and poAver of a superior being. 
 
 " To prove the extreme versatility of his talent, Mr. Phelps per- 
 formed in the farce of Eaising the Wind, but as this is a mere farcical 
 delineation, we attach no extraordinary merit to it. The play was in 
 other respects admirably performed — Mr. Barrett's Falstaff being a 
 very clever performance, as was also Mrs. Marston's Dame Quickly. 
 Mr, Eobinson was youthful and elegant as the Prince, but nothing 
 more. The rest of the characters and the general arrangements were, 
 as usual, conducted with great taste and care, and the play will 
 doubtless have a run after Easter, until which time the theatre is 
 closed." 
 
 We shall leave the other criticisms which will be found 
 further on to speak for themselves. Suffice it at present 
 to say, it was described by the critics as an unprecedented 
 attempt and marvellously successful. To show his extraordinary 
 powers, some said Shallow was the finer of the two, whilst 
 others declared the King was ; whilst some, like ourselves, 
 averred that one was as fine as the other. It was produced for 
 bis own benefit, and played more or less until the end of the 
 season, which closed on 13th April. 
 
 1853—1854- 
 
 The tenth season commenced on 27th August, 1853, with 
 Macbeth, followed by The School for Scandal, Lady of Lyons, 
 Virginius, The Hypocrite, Hamlet, Love Makes a Man, The 
 Love Chase, and Othello, until 8th October, when he produced 
 Shakespeare's poem of A Midsummer Night's Dream, playing 
 for the first time the character of Bottom the Weaver, on which 
 performance Douglas Jerrold wrote in Punch as follows : —
 
 From a Photo'jya.ph in the 2}osiicssion uf liifi Kephem.
 
 TENTH SEASON, 1853—1854. 129 
 
 Bully Bottom, 
 
 " Bully Bottom is in truth * translated ' by Mr. Phelps. Translated 
 from matter-of-fact into poetic humour ; translated from the common- 
 place tradition of the play-house to a thing subtly grotesque — rarely, 
 and heroically whimsical. A bully Bottom of the old allowed sort 
 makes up his face — even as the rustic wag of a horse-collar — to goggle 
 and grin, and is as like to the sweet bully of Phelps — bears the same 
 relation in art to the Bottom of Sadler's Wells — as the sign-post 
 portrait on the village green to a head, vital by a few marvellous dots 
 and touches, of Richard Doyle. In these days we know of no such 
 translation ! Translate a starveling Welsh curate into a Bishop of 
 London, and Phelps's translation of Bottom the Weaver shall still 
 remain a work of finer art, and — certainly to all humanizing intents of 
 man-solacing humour — of far richer value. We have had, plentiful 
 as French eggs, translations of facile, delicate French, into clumsy, 
 hobbling British ; and now, as some amends, we have Bottom trans- 
 lated by Phelps from dull tradition into purest, airiest Sliakespeare. 
 Mr. Phelps has not painted, dabbed we should say, the sweet bully 
 with the old player's old hare's foot, but has taken the finest pencil, 
 and, with a clean, sharp, fantastic touch, has rendered Bottom a living 
 weaver — a weaver whose brain is marvellously woven, knitted up, 
 with self-opinion. 
 
 " Now this we take to be the true, breathing notion of Shakespeare, 
 and this notion has entered the belief of the actor, and l)ecome a 
 living thing. Bottom is of conceit all compact. Conceit flows in his 
 veins — is ever swelling, more or less, in his heart ; cd^vers him from 
 scalp to toes, like his skin. And it is this beautiful, this most 
 profitable quality, — this human coin, self-opinion, which, however 
 cracked, and thin, and base, may be put off as the real thing by the 
 unfailing heroism of the utterer, — it is this conceit that saves Bottom 
 from a world of wonderment, when he finds himself the leman dear, 
 clipped by the Queen of Faery. Bottom takes the love — the doting 
 of Titania — as he would take the commanded honey-bag of the red- 
 lipped humble-bee — as something sweet and pleasant, but nought to 
 rave about. He is fortified by his conceit against any surprise of 
 the most bountiful fortune : self-opinion turns fairy treasures into 
 rightful wages. And are there not such Bottoms — not writ upon the 
 paper Athens of the poet, not swaggering in a wood watered of ink- 
 drops — l)ut such sweet bullies in brick-and-mortar London— Bottoms 
 of fortune, that for sport's sake })lay Puck ] The ingenuous Bottom 
 of the jjlay has this distinction from the Bottoms of the real world : 
 he, for the time, wears his ass's head with a difference, that is, ho 
 shows the honest length of his ears, and does Tiot, and cannot al)ato 
 the sliow of a single liair. His head is outwardly all ass; there is 
 with him no reservation soever. 
 
 E
 
 130 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 "Mr. Phelps has the fullest and the deepest sense of the asinine 
 qualities of Bottom from the beginning. For Bottom wants not the 
 ass's head to mark him ass : the ass is in Bottom, is blood and brain ; 
 Puck merely fixes the outward, vulgar type significant of the inward 
 creature. When Bottom, in the first scene, desires to be Wall, and 
 Moonshine, and Lion, his conceit brays aloud, but brays with un- 
 developed ears. But herein is the genius of our actor. The traditional 
 bully Bottom is a dull, stiipid, mouthing ass, with no force save in 
 his dullness. Bottom, as played by Mr. Phelps, is an ass with a 
 vehemence, a will, a vigour in his conceit, but still an ass — an ass 
 that fantastically kicks his heels to the right and left, but still ass — 
 an ass that has the most prolonged variations of his utterance ; never- 
 theless it is braying, and nothing better. And there is great variety 
 in braying. We never heard two asses bray alike. Listen ! it may 
 be the season of blossoming hawthorns, and asses salute asses. In 
 very different tones, with very different cadence, will every ass make 
 known the yearning, the aspiration that is within him. We speak 
 not frivolously, ignorantly, on this theme ; for in our time we have 
 heard very many asses. And so return we to the Bottom of Merry 
 Islington — to the golden ass of Sadler's Wells. 
 
 " That ass has opened the play-house season of 1853-4 very musically 
 — would we could think hopefully, and with prophetic promise. At 
 present, however, Bottom is the master spirit ; and in these days of 
 dramatic 2Jardonnez-mois, it is a little comforting — not that we are 
 given to the sanguine mood in things theatrical — to know that folks 
 are found ready to make jocund pilgrimage to Sadler's Wells, where a 
 man with a real vital love for his art, has now for many seasons made 
 his theatre a school ; and more, has never wanted attentive, reverent, 
 grateful scholars. In this Mr. Phelps has been a national school- 
 master ; and — far away from the sustaining, fructifying beams of the 
 Court — for hitherto our Elizabeth has not visited our Burbage — 
 has popularly taught the lessons left to England by Shakespeare — 
 legacies everlasting as her cliffs. 
 
 " As yet Her Majesty has not journeyed to the Wells ; but who 
 knows how soon that ' great fairy ' may travel thither, to do grace 
 to bully Bottom ! If so, let Mr. Phelps — if he can — still heighten his 
 manner on his awakening from that dream. Let him — if he can — more 
 subtly mingle wonderment with struggling reason, reason wrestling 
 with Avonder to get the better of the mystery. 
 
 " ' I have had a dream, — past the wit of man to say what dream 
 it truly was : — Man is but an ass, if he go about to expound this 
 dream. Methought I was — there is no man can tell what. Methought 
 I was, and methought I had. — The eye of man hath not heard, the 
 ear of man hath not seen, man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue 
 to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was.' 
 
 " We do not think it in the wit or power of Mr. Phelps, under any 
 newer inspiration, to give a deeper, finer meaning to this than he has 
 done. But if Her Majesty commands the play, as a loyal subject,
 
 TENTH SEASON, 1853—1854. 131 
 
 he will doubtless make the essay. In these words, Bottom — as reudereil 
 by the actor — is taken away from the ludicrous ; he is elevated by the 
 mystery that possesses him, and he affects our more serious sympathies, 
 whilst he forbids our laughter. One of the very, very few precious 
 things of the stage — of this starved time — is an ass's head, as worn by 
 the manager of Merrie Islington. 
 
 " We hope, at least, the Queen will command that head to be 
 brought — with due solemnity — to "Windsor Castle. Let Bottom be made 
 to roar again before Her Majesty, the Prince, the heir-apparent, and 
 all the smaller childhood royalties. Let Bottom be confronted with 
 the picked of the Cabinet — the elect of Privy Councillors. And, as 
 we have orders of Eagles and Elephants, why not the ingenuous 
 out-speaking significance, the order of the Ass 1 As a timid beginning, 
 we have the Thistle — wherefore not the Ass himself? 
 
 " In Avhich case, the order established, the Bottom of Sadler's "Wells 
 ought rightfidly to be the chancellor thereof." 
 
 The same critic also wrote the following in Lloyd's Weekly 
 Loiulon Neivs, of which he was the editor : — 
 
 The Midsummer Wight's Dream. 
 
 " It has long been a favourite dogma, which commentatoi-s have 
 thumped down upon tlie Shakespearean page with the might of a 
 paviour's hammer, that The Midsummer Night's Dream was especially 
 unactable. To listen to these worthies, if you attempted to infuse 
 the spirit of the play into any forms bearing the shape of human 
 bodies, the ethereal essence of it instantly evaporated. It was a fairy 
 creation which could only be acted by fairies ; it was a dream of the. 
 imagination that admitted of no other play than that of one's imagin- 
 ation. Give it living embodiment, and the fairies become heavy, 
 coai-se realities ; present the fanciful figiu-es to the eye, and they were 
 chnnged into pretty tinsel nonentities, only fit at the best to figure in 
 a child's picture-book, or to skip and tumble in one of Mr. Farley's 
 Easter-pieces. The comedy was a poetical dream, and if stage car- 
 penters and painters laid their leaden fingers upon it they would only 
 turn the dream into nothing better than a nightmare. Even Hazlitt 
 Inmsclf, with his knowledge of the capabilities of the stage, declared 
 that ' it was as idle to (;mlx>dy tlie fancy of it as to pei-sonate "Wall or 
 Moonshine.' These critical opinions have all been l)lown away like 
 80 much dust that had got into the volumes in wliich they are to be 
 found, and A I^lidsummer Night's Dream is now an acting trutli, 
 wliich may be seen any night at Sailler's Wells Theatre. And yet the 
 lieautifvd dreaininess of the i)lay is not in the least distur1)ed. It is 
 flreandanil with its curious jMJimlation of fairies and elvish s]irites. 
 wliosi; fantastic outlines the eye can scarcely make out, presented most 
 dreamily Ijeforc the sjiectator. There is a misty transparency alidul 
 
 K 3
 
 132 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 the figures that gives them the appearance of flitting shadows more 
 than of human beings. You fancy you can see the moon shining 
 through them. There they dance and whirl, and are pufPed about 
 first from one side and then to another, hke a cloud of silver dust ; 
 and as the endless atoms of which the cloud is composed keep spring- 
 ing into the air, in one heap of joyous confusion, you may almost 
 imagine, in the dreamy state which the play engenders, that the little 
 fairies are being tossed in a big sheet of the moon, and that Puck is 
 looking on and enjoying the fun. It is a play, in truth, to dream 
 over. The best way to enjoy it is, to half-close your eyes, and to 
 resign yourself completely to the influence of the scene. It is our 
 firm belief, from the hushed stillness that reigns at times through the 
 house, that one-half the spectators are dreaming without knowing it, 
 and that they only wake up when the curtain drops, and are surprised 
 to find they have a play-bill in their hand. This belief is strengthened 
 by the fact of the unusual sparingness of the applause. All motion, 
 all action, seems to be involuntarily suspended. Occasionally a loud 
 laugh bursts out, but it is quickly succeeded by a deep stillness, as of 
 midnight sleep. This feeling is something more than the mere rever- 
 ence of attention. You would suppose from the silence that closes 
 you in like a dark room, that you were all alone, with your senses far 
 away, wandering you knew not where, but watching intently some 
 strange illusion of a man with an ass's head being kissed by a Fairy 
 Queen. In this way, you dream quite unconsciously, lost one minute 
 in a beautiful wood flooded with moonlight, through which you wade 
 as refreshingly as thi'ough a summer stream, and the next minute 
 laughing over the courtship of Pyramus and Thisbe, who are making 
 love, like a couple of servants, over a garden wall. You feel quite 
 disconcerted when you rub your eyes, and discover that there is a 
 chandelier instead of the stars shining above you, and, far from 
 ' blessing ' Theseus' house with Oberon and Titania, that you are in 
 Sadler's Wells Theatre, with loud cries of ' Phelps ! Phelps ! ' being 
 hammered on all sides in your startled ears. The illusion is pulled, 
 like a common cotton night-cap, from off your brow ; and the ideal 
 trance, in which you have been plunged for the last three hours, is 
 followed by an awakening conviction that you have been fooled 
 during that time not less completely than Bottom himself. You 
 scratch your ' sleek smooth head,' and try to pull your ' fair large 
 ears,' but are delighted to find that they are no longer than what you 
 generally carry about with you ; and that, as far as you know, you 
 have no donkey's head upon your shoulders. You have simply had 
 a dream — a dream which, you may almost say with Bottom, ' is past 
 the Avit of man to say what dream it truly was : — Man is but an ass, 
 if he go about to expound this dream.' We have often slept in a 
 theatre, but never slept, much less dreamt, so deliciously before, 
 listening eagerly to the beauty of every passing sound, drinking in 
 every enchantment that moved as softly as a fairy's wand before our 
 staring eyes. We can only say that we would sooner dream in this
 
 TENTH SEASON, 1853—1854. 133 
 
 •enchanting way at Sadler's "Wells, than remain awake at most other 
 theatres ! 
 
 " Of the various causes that contribiited to the rare excellence of this 
 poetical vision, we cannot speak too highly. First, of the scenery, it 
 was quiet and subdued, as sylvan scenery at night should be. The 
 different views of the wood were deliciously refreshing — just the cool, 
 retired spots that the fairies would delight to dance in, on a warm 
 midsummer's evening. There was no grand effect produced, but 
 everything was natural and simple, and yet beautiful ; precisely the 
 impressive simplicity that one meets with in nature. The views, also, 
 were made to melt, dream-Hke, into one another ; and all was done so 
 noiselessly, as though there were a secret feeling in the breasts of all, 
 that the smallest sound would have broken the spirit of the dream. 
 There are not more than three or four scenes in the whole play, and 
 yet so artistically are the different changes of moonlight, fog, and 
 sunrise produced, that you imagine you have been wandering through 
 an entire forest, with a fresh prospect meeting you unexpectedly at 
 every turn. The living figures are so dressed as to harmonize with 
 the scenery, looking as if they were inseparable parts of the same 
 picture ; thus, the fairies, as they glide in and out of the trees and 
 foliage, give you a notion that they have actually stepped out of them, 
 as though the trunks and flowers were their natural abiding-places, 
 and, by long residence, they had become imbued with the colour of 
 them. They Avere none of your winged, white muslin fairies with 
 spangles and butterfly wands, but were real, intangible, shadowy 
 beings that you made sure would, under no pretence, remain out 
 beyond a certain hour, but would infallibly at the first cockcrow all 
 melt into thin air. Of the acting, the lion's share, though his request 
 to play the lioii was refused, must be given to bully Bottom. So 
 prominent is this character made by Phelps, that it stands out like 
 the real centre of the piece, round which all the other characters, 
 elves, kings, clowns and all, seem to revolve. We never saw Liston 
 in the same part, when he played it at Covent Garden, but we are 
 confident that in his hands even, it could not have been more con- 
 sistently comic, more free from caricature, or more full of absurd 
 humour than it was rendered by Phelps. It is a finished work of art 
 that entitles the creator of it to take his stand henceforth, like a 
 second Garrick, between Comedy and Tragedy. All our comic actors 
 should make a point of seeing this delicate and elaborate performance, 
 to study how laughter may be produced without buifoonery, and to 
 learn how great an effect may be created simply by taking a correct 
 view of an author's conception. They cannot do better than t<j take 
 a few lessons in this way of Mr. I'helps, who, nut content with l)eing 
 the first tragedian of the day, seems resolved to prove himself also the 
 first comerlian. The ]\Ii(Lsunimer Kight's Dream is the great dramatic 
 fact of this year, which every one must see."
 
 134 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 John A. Heraud wrote the following in the Athenceitm : — 
 
 Sadler's Wells. 
 
 " On Saturday this management produced its new revival — The Mid- 
 sunmier Night's Dream. With a vivid recollection of the manner in 
 which Madame Vestris mounted this charming poem during her 
 management at Covent Garden, we carried to the suhurhan theatre a 
 high standard hy which to test the new spectacular illustrations. We 
 can conscientiously record, that we had reason nevertheless to he 
 greatly pleased with the amount of excellence displayed. The faery 
 glitter, the elfish sportiveness, the classical sternness, the comic 
 eccentricity, and the amorous perplexity, were all well provided for. 
 The frolic Puck was cleverly represented by young Mr. Artis ; who 
 had, it was evident, been elaborately drilled for the occasion, — and 
 gave an amount of grotesque action which, though exuberant, was not 
 uu pleasing. The Helena of Miss Cooper was very good, more than 
 once rising into a pathetic utterance that, amidst the wddness of the 
 general accessories, moved the heart with a touch of reality, — lending 
 a delightful natural interest to fantastic adventure, and redeeming the 
 improbability of the situation. Miss Travers in Hermia was respectable. 
 Oberon and Titania were attempted by Miss Hickson and Miss Wyatt ; 
 — the latter showing some power, — and the former considerable grace. 
 Tint the distinguishing feature of the revival was the assumption -of 
 the part of Bottom by Mr. Phelps. In such eccentric creations Mr. 
 Phelps has already been as happy as he has been original ; and in the 
 present one he has exerted all his invention and skill. The nervous 
 character of the weaver, with the angularity of his movements, par- 
 ticularly those of his arms and legs, — ever ready to do anything, and 
 giving to all expressions an equal emphasis, as the result of an ever- 
 active and highly stimulated temperament, — eternally gesticulating, 
 and overflowing with self-importance, — these accidents and attributes 
 of dis^^osition and occupation were seized on by the actor with great 
 judgment and actualized with corresponding skill. The ass's head 
 which he is doomed to wear turned out to be a machine well contrived 
 for expression, — the ears and jaws being capable of appropriate gesture, 
 provocative of laughter. When relieved from this skull cap, and 
 endeavouring to recollect his dream, Bottom in the hands of Mr. 
 Phelps became a remarkable artistic presentment. His perplexity, as 
 he endeavoured to retrace his vision, was elaborately delineated; and 
 this was succeeded by some admirable by-play, in which, without a 
 word spoken, the pantomimic action was suggestive of an entire 
 soliloquy concerning the mysterious loss of the long ears and beard so 
 recently worn. As he makes his exit, we see clearly enough that 
 Bottom gives i:p the whole as an insoluble problem. Then comes the 
 incident of the mock play, — which was jrresented in all its integrity : 
 the result being, a complete justification of the poet, and a most 
 amusing piece of stage-foolery. Mr. Marston delivered his part of
 
 TENTH SEASON, 1853—1854. 135 
 
 Theseus with great propriety, the poetical speeches being picked 
 out with care and set with eifect. The scenery, by Mr. Fentou, 
 was throughout beautiful, and much of the grouping was highly 
 picturasque." 
 
 Professor Morley also wrote as follows in the Examiner : — ■ 
 
 " Every reader of Shakespeare is disposed to regard The Midsummer 
 !Xight's JJream as the most essentially unactable of all his plays. It 
 is a dramatic j^oem of the utmost grace and delicacy ; its characters 
 are creatures of the poet's fancy that no flesh and blood can properly 
 present — fairies who ' creep into acorn-cups,' or mortals who are but 
 dim abstractions, persons of a ch-eam. The words they speak are so 
 completely spiritual that they are best felt when they are not spoken. 
 Their exquisite beauty is like that of sunset colours which no mortal 
 artist can interpret faithfully. The device of the clowns in the play 
 to present Moonshine seems but a fair expression of the kind of success 
 that might be achieved by the best actors who should attempt to 
 present The Midsummer Night's Dream on the stage. It was, there- 
 fore, properly avoided by managers as lying beside and above their 
 art; nor was there reason to be disappointed, when the play some 
 years ago furnished Madame Vestris with a spectacle that altogether 
 wanted the Shakespearean spirit. 
 
 " In some measure there is reason for a different opinion on these 
 matters in The Midsummer Night's Dream as produced at Sadler's 
 "Wells by ]\Ir. Phelps. Though stage fairies cannot ride on bluebells, 
 and the members of no theatrical company now in existence can speak 
 such poetry as that of The IMidsummer Night's Dream otherwise than 
 most imperfectly, yet it is proved that there remains in the power of 
 the manager who goes with pure taste and right feeling to his work, 
 enough for the establishment of this play as a most charming enter- 
 tainment of the stage. 
 
 " Mr. Phelps has never for a minute lost sight of the main idea 
 which governs the whole play, and tliis is the great secret of his 
 success in the presentation of it. He knew that he was to present 
 merely shadows ; that spectators, as Puck reminds them in the epilogue, 
 are to think they have slumbered on their seats, and that what appeared 
 before them have Ijeen visions. Everything has been subdued as far 
 as possible at Sadler's Wells to this ruling idea. The scenery is very 
 beautiful, but wholly free from the meretricious glitter now in favour ; 
 it is not so remarkable for costliness as the pure taste in which it 
 and all the stage arrangements have been planned. There is no 
 ordinary scene-shifting ; but, as in dreams, one scene is made to glide 
 insensibly into another. We follow the lovers and the fairies through 
 the wood from glade to glade, now ainong trees, now with a In'oad 
 view of the sea and Athens in the distance, carefully but not at all 
 obti-usively set forth. And not only do the scenes nxilt drcaui-liko ' 
 one into another, but over all the fairy portion of the play there is a
 
 136 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 haze thrown by a curtain of green gauze placed between the actors and 
 the audience, and maintained there during the whole of the second, 
 third, and fourth acts. This gauze curtain is so well spread that there 
 are very few parts of the house from which its presence can be detected, 
 but its influence is everyAvhere felt ; it subdues the flesh and blood of 
 the actors into something more nearly resembling dream-figures, and 
 incorporates more completely the actors with the scenes, throwing the 
 same green fairy tinge, and the same mist, over all. A like idea has 
 also dictated certain contrivances of dress, especially in the case of the 
 fairies. Very good taste has been shown in the establishment of a 
 harmony between the scenery and the poem. 
 
 " The main feature — the midsummer night — was marked by one 
 scene so elaborated as to impress it upon all as the central picture of 
 the group. The moon was just so much exaggerated as to give it the 
 required prominence. The change, again, of this midsummer night 
 into morning, when Theseus and Hippolyta come to the wood with 
 horn and hound, was exquisitely presented. And in the last scene, 
 when the fairies, coming at night into the hall of Theseus, ' each several 
 chamber bless,' the midsummer moon is again seen shining on the 
 palace as the curtains are drawn that admit the fairy throng. Ten 
 times as much money might have been spent on a very much worse 
 setting of The Midsummer JN'ight's Dream. It is the poetical feeling 
 prompting a judicious but not extravagant outlay, by aid of which 
 Mr. Phelps has produced a stage spectacle more refined and intellectual, 
 and far more absolutely satisfactory, than anything I can remember 
 to have seen since Mr. Macready was a manager. That the flesh-and- 
 blood presentments of the dream-figures which constitute the persons 
 of the play should be always in harmony with this true feeling, was 
 scarcely to be expected. A great deal of the poetry is injured in the 
 speaking. Unless each actor were a man who combined with elocu- 
 tionary power a very high degree of sensibility and genius, it could 
 hardly be otherwise. Yet it cannot be said even here that the poet's 
 effects entirely failed. The Midsummer Night's Dream abounds in 
 the most delicate passages of Shakespeare's verse. The Sadler's Wells 
 pit has a keen enjoyment for them ; and pit and gallery were crowded 
 to the farthest wall on Saturday night with a most earnest audience, 
 among whom many a subdued hush arose, not during, but just before, 
 the delivery of the most charming passages. If the crowd at Drury 
 Lane is a gross discredit to the public taste, the crowd at Sadler's 
 Wells more than neutralizes any ill opinion that may on that score be 
 formed of play-goers. The Sadler's Wells gallery, indeed, appeared 
 to be not wholly unconscious of the contrast, for when Bottom volun- 
 teered to roar high or roar low, a voice from the gallery desired to 
 know whether he could ' roar like Brooke.' Even the gallery at this 
 theatre, however, resents an interruption, and the unexpected sally 
 was not well received. A remarkably quick-witted little boy. Master 
 F. Artis, plays Puck, and really plays it with faithfulness and spirit 
 as it has been conceived for him by Mr. Phelps. His training has
 
 TENTH SEASON, 1853—1854. 137 
 
 evidently been most elaborate. "We see at once that his acts and 
 gestures are ton perfect and mature to be his own imaginings, but he 
 has been quick-witted enough to adopt them as his own, and give 
 them not a little of the charm of independent and spontaneous pro- 
 duction. By this thoughtfulness there is secured for the character on 
 the stage something of the same prominence that it has in the mind 
 of closet readers of the play. 
 
 " Of Miss Cooper's Helena we cannot honestly say very much. In 
 that, as in most of the other characters, the spirit of the play was 
 missed, because the arguing and quarrelling and blimdering that 
 should have been playful, dream-like, and poetical, was much too 
 loud and real. The men and women could not fancy themselves 
 shadows. Were it possible so far to subdue the energy of the whole 
 body of actors as to soften the tone of the scenes between Theseus, 
 Hippolyta, Lysander, Demetrius, Hermia, and Helena, the latter 
 character even on the stage might surely have something of the effect 
 intended by the poem. It is an exquisite abstraction, a pitiful and 
 moving picture of a gentle maid forlorn, playfully developed as 
 beseems the fantastic texture of the poem, but not at all meant to 
 excite mirth ; and there Avas a very great mistake made when the 
 dream was so worked out into hard literalness as to create constant 
 laughter during the scenes in Avhich Helena, bewildered by the change 
 of mood among the lovers, shrinks and complains ' Wherefore was I 
 to this keen mockery born 'i ' The merriment which Shakespeare 
 connected with those scenes Avas but a little of the poet's sunlight 
 meant to glitter among tears. 
 
 " It remains for us only to speak of the success of Mr. Phelps as 
 Bottom, Avhom he presented from the first Avith remarkable subtlety 
 and spirit, as a man seen in a dream. In his first scene, before we 
 knoAV Avhat his conception is, or in Avhat spirit he means the Avhole play 
 to be received, Ave are puzzled by it. We miss the humour, and Ave get 
 a strange, elaborate, and uncouth dream-figure, a cloAvn restless Avith 
 vanity, marked by a score of little movements, and speaking ponder- 
 ously Avith the uncouth gesticulation of an unreal thing, a grotes(|ue 
 nightmare character. But that, we find, is precisely Avliat the actor 
 intended to present, and we soon perceive that he Avas right. Through- 
 out tlie fairy scenes there is a mist throAvn over Bottom by the actor's 
 art. The violent gesticulations become stillness, and the hands are 
 fixed on the breast. They are busy with unperceived business of 
 managing the movements of the ass's head, but it is not for that reason 
 they are so perfectly still. The change of manner is a part of tlio 
 conception. The dream-figure is dreaming, there is dream Avithiu 
 dream; Bottom is quiet; his humour becomes more unctuous, but 
 Bottom is translated. He accepts all that hai)i)ens, quietly as dreamers 
 do ; and the ass's head Ave also acce[>t (piietly, for avo too are in tho 
 middle of our dream, and it does not create surprise. Not a touch of 
 comedy Avas missed in this capital piece of acting, yet ]>()ttom Avas 
 completely incorporated Avith Tho Midsummer Kight's Dream, mudo
 
 138 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 an essential part of it, as unsubstantial, as airy and refined as all the 
 rest. Quite masterly was the delivery by Mr. Phelps of the speech of 
 Bottom on awakening. He was still a man subdued, but subdued by 
 the sudden plunge into a state of an unfathomable wonder. His dream 
 clings about him, he cannot sever the real from the unreal, and still 
 we are made to feel that his reality itself is but a fiction. The pre- 
 occupation continues to be manifest during his next scene with the 
 players, and his parting, ' No more words ; away ; go, away,' was in 
 the tone of a man who had lived with spirits and was not yet perfectly 
 returned into the flesh. ISTor did the refinement of this conception, if 
 we except the first scene, abate a jot of the laughter that the character 
 of Bottom was intended to excite. The mock play at the end was 
 intensely ludicrous in the presentment, yet nowhere farcical. It was 
 the dream. Bottom as Pyramus was more perfectly a dream-figure 
 than ever. The contrast between the shadowy actor and his part, 
 between Bottom and Pyramus, was marked intensely ; and the result 
 was as quaint a phantom as could easily be figured by real flesh. Mr. 
 Eay's Quince was very good indeed, and all the other clowns were 
 reasonably well presented. 
 
 "It is very doubtful whether The Midsummer Night's Dream has 
 yet, since it was first written, been put upon the stage with so nice an 
 interpretation of its meaning. It is pleasant beyond measure to think 
 that an entertainment so refined can draw such a throng of play-goers 
 as I saw last Saturday sitting before it silent and reverent at Sadler's 
 Wells." 
 
 On 21st November Henry V. was again acted, followed further 
 on by A Fatal Dowry, Othello, The Man of the World, and 
 Hamlet, to the end of the year. Eighteen hundred and fifty-four 
 commenced with A Fatal Dowry, followed during January by 
 The Merchant of Venice, A Midsummer Night's Dream, and 
 Hamlet; February, The School for Scandal, Hamlet, King 
 Lear, London Assurance, and A New Way to Pay Old Debts. 
 On 2nd March he played The Miser, and Rover in Wild Oats, 
 for his own benefit, and during the month he played Rover, 
 Hamlet, The Miser, The Man of the World, Othello, Old 
 Dornton, Luke, Reuben Glenroy, Shylock, and the Duke 
 Aranza ; and in April some of the foregoing, Leon in Rule a 
 Wife and Have a Wife, and Othello, playing this character 
 on the last night of the season.
 
 ELEVENTH SEASON, 1854—1855. 139 
 
 1854—1855. 
 
 The eleventh season commenced in August with The Provost 
 of Bruges, and during that month and September that play and 
 the foiloAving were performed : Much Ado About Nothing, 
 Cymbeline, Henry VIII., The Jealous Wife, The Mercliant of 
 Venice, and Hamlet. In October, Richelieu, Othello, Road to 
 Ruin, Hamlet, and The Man of the World. 
 
 On the l-ith October he produced Pericles, Prince of Tyre 
 (which had not been acted for nearly two centuries), with great 
 splendour and crowning success. We must again let the critics 
 speak. The first review of the play appeared in the Examiner, 
 aud was written by Professor !Morley : — 
 
 " Pericles, Prince of Tyre, that Eastern romance upon which 
 Shakespeare first tried his power as a di'amatist, and which he may 
 have readapted to the stage even while yet a youth at Stratford, has 
 heen produced at Sadler's Wells by Mr. Phelps, Avith the care due 
 to a work especially of interest to all students of Shakespeare, and 
 with the splendour proper to an Eastern spectacle. The story was 
 an old one ; there is a version of it even in Anglo-Saxon. Gower had 
 made it the longest story in his Confessio Amantis, and the one 
 told with the greatest care ; and the dramatist in using it made use of 
 Gower. The story was a popular one of an Eastern Prince whose life 
 is spent upon a sea of trouble. Everywhere he is pursued by misfor- 
 tune. He seeks a beautiful Avife at the risk of death, through the 
 good old Eastern plan of earning her by answering a riddle. She proves 
 a miracle of lust. He flies from her, and is pursued by the strong 
 wrath of her father. To avoid this he is forced to become an exile 
 from his house and people. Ho sails to Tharsus, where he brings 
 liberal relief to a great famme, and is hailed as a saviour ; but to 
 Tharsus he is pursued by warnings of the coming wrath of his great 
 <-uemy. Again he becomes a fugitive across the sea. The sea is 
 pitdess, and tosses him from coast to coast, until it throws him ashore, 
 the only man saved from the wreck of his vessel, near Pentapolis. 
 Tint in Pentapolis reigns a good king, whose daughter — still in the true 
 fashion of a story-book — is to be courted by a tourney between rival 
 [irinces. Pericles Avould take part in such ambition, and the sea casts 
 liim up a suit of armour. He strives, and is victor. He excels all in 
 tlie tourney, in the song, and in the dance ; the king is generous, and 
 the daughter kind. iJut the shadow of his evil fate is still over 
 Pericles. He distrusts a thing so strange as hapi)y fortune, and thinks 
 of it only as ' the king's sublety to have my life. Foiiune is, however, 
 for once really on his side. He marries the Princess Thaisa, anil being
 
 140 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 afterwards informed that his great enemy is dead, and that his OAvn 
 subjects rehel against his continued absence, he sets sail with her for 
 Tyre. The good gifts seem, however, only to have been granted by 
 Fortune, that she might increase his wretchedness tenfold by taking 
 them away. The sea again ' washes heaven and hell ' when his ship 
 is fairly launched upon it, and in a storm so terrible that 
 
 ' The seaman's whistle 
 Is as a whisper in the ears of death, 
 Unheard, ' 
 
 the nurse brings on deck to Pericles a new-born infant, with the 
 tidings that its mother, Thaisa, is dead. The sailors, believing that a 
 corpse on board maintains the storm about the ship, demand that the 
 dead queen he thrown into the sea. ' Most wretched queen ! ' mourns 
 the more wretched prince — 
 
 'A terrible child-bed hast thou had, my dear ; 
 No light, no fire : the unfriendly elements 
 Forgot thee utterly ; nor have I time 
 To give thee hallow'd to thy grave, but straight 
 Must cast thee, scarcely coffin'd, in the ooze ; 
 Where, for a monument upon thy bones, 
 And aye-remaining lamps, the belching whale 
 And humming water must o'erwhelm thy corse, 
 Lying with simple shells, ' 
 
 Being at this time near Tharsus, however, and remembering that 
 Tharsus owes him a debt of gratitude, Pericles makes for Tharsus, in 
 order that he may place his infant, with the least possible delay, upon 
 sure ground, and under tender nursmg. The daughter there grows 
 up under her father's evil star. ' This world to me,' she says, ' is like 
 a lasting storm, whirring me from my friends.' The Queen of Tharsus 
 becomes jealous, and resolves to murder her. It is by the sea-shore 
 that the deed is to be done. When Pericles comes for his child her 
 tomb is shown to him, and under this last woe his mind breaks doAvn. 
 He puts to sea again with his wrecked spirit, and though the sea again 
 afflicts him with its storms, he rides them out. I have not told the 
 story thus far for the sake of telling it, but for the sake of showing in 
 the most convenient way what is really the true spirit of the play. 
 At this pomt of the tale the fortune of Pericles suddenly changes. A 
 storm of unexpected happiness breaks with immense force upon him. 
 The sea and the tomb seem to give up their dead, and from the lowest 
 depths of prostration the spirit of the prince is exalted to the topmost 
 height, in scenes which form most worthily the climax of the drama. 
 * Helicanus,' he then cries, 
 
 ' Helicanus, strike me, honour'd sir ; 
 Give me a gash, put me to presi^nt pain ; 
 Lest this great sea of joys rushing upon me, 
 O'erbear the shores of my mortality, 
 And drown me with their sweetness. '
 
 ELEVENTH SEASON, 1854—1855. 141 
 
 " In telling such a story as this, Shakespeare felt, and, young as he 
 may have been, liis judgment decided rightly, that it should he shown 
 distinctly as a tale, such as 
 
 ' Hath been sung at festivals, 
 Ou ember eves and holy-ales ; ' 
 
 and he therefore brought forward Gower himself, very much in the cha- 
 racter of an Eastern story-teller, to begin the narrative and carry it on 
 to the end, subject to the large interruption of five acts of dramatic illus- 
 tration. A tale was being told ; every person was to feel that, although 
 much of it would be told to the eye. But in the revival of the play 
 Mr. Phelps was left to choose between two difficulties. The omission 
 of Gower would be a loss to the play, in an artistic sense, yet the 
 introduction of Gower before every act Avould very probably endanger 
 its effect in a theatrical sense, unless the part were spoken by an actor 
 of unusual power. The former plan was taken ; and in adding to 
 certain scenes in the drama passages of his own writing, strictly con- 
 fined to the explanation of those parts of the story which Shakespeare 
 represents Gower as narrating between the acts, Mr. Phelps may have 
 used his best judgment as a manager. Certainly, unless he could have 
 been himself the Gower as well as the Pericles of the piece, the frequent 
 introduction of a story-telling gentleman in a long coat and curls, 
 would have been an extremely hazardous experiment, even before such 
 an earnest audience as that at Sadler's Wells. 
 
 " The change did inevitably, to a certain extent, disturb the poetical 
 effect of the story ; but assuming its necessity, it was eti'ected modestly 
 and well. The other changes also were in no case superfluous, and 
 were made with considerable judgment. The two scenes at Mitylene, 
 which present Marina pure as an ermine which no filth can touch, 
 were compressed into one ; and although the plot of the drama was 
 not compromised by a false delicacy, there remained not a syllable at 
 which true delicacy could have conceived offence. The calling of 
 Boult and his mistress was covered in the pure language of Marina 
 with so hearty a contempt, Ihat the scene was really one in which the 
 purest minds might be those Avhich would take the most especial 
 pleasure. The conception of the character of Pericles by Mr. Phelps 
 seemed to accord exactly with the view just taken of the j'lay. He 
 was the Prince pursued by evil fate. A melancholy that could not be 
 shaken off oppressed liim, even in the midst of the gay court of King 
 Simonides, and the hand of Thaisa was received with only the rapture 
 of a love tiiat dared not feel assured of its good ibrtune. j\Ir. Phelps 
 represented the Prince sinking gradually under the successive blows of 
 fate, with an unostentatious truthfulness ; but in that one scene which 
 calls forth all the strength of the artist, the recognition of Marina and 
 the sudden lifting of the Prince's bruised and fallen spirit to an ecstasy 
 of joy, there was an opportunity for one of the most ellective disjjlays 
 of the power of an actor that the stage, as it now is, allords. With 
 immense energy, yet with a true feeling for the pathos of the situation
 
 142 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 that had the most genuine effect, Mr. Phelps achieved in this passage 
 a triumph marked by plaudit after plaudit. They do not applaud 
 rant at Sadler's Wells. The scene was presented truly by the actor, 
 and felt fully by his audience. The youthful voice and person, and 
 the quiet acting of Miss Edith Heraud, who made her dehxt as Marina, 
 greatly helped to set forth the beauty of that scene. The other parts 
 had also been judiciously allotted, so that each actor did what be or 
 she was best able to do, and did it up to the full measure of the 
 ability of each. Miss Cooper gave much effect to the scene of the 
 recovery of Thaisa, which was not less well felt by those who provided 
 the appointments of the stage, and who marked that portion of the 
 drama by many delicacies of detail. Of the scenery, indeed, it is to be 
 said, that so much splendour of decoration is rarely governed by so 
 pure a taste. The play, of which the text is instability of fortune, has 
 its characteristic place of action on the sea. Pericles is perpetually 
 shown (literally as well as metaphorically) tempest-tost, or in the 
 immediate vicinity of the treacherous waters ; and this idea is most 
 happily enforced at Sadler's Wells by scene-painter and machinist. 
 They reproduce the rolling of the billows and the whistling of the 
 winds when Pericles lies senseless, a wrecked man on a shore. When 
 he is shown on board ship in the storm during the birth of ]Marina, 
 the ship tosses vigorously. When he sails at last to the temple of 
 Diana of the Ephesians, rowers take their places on their banks, the 
 vessel seems to glide along the coast, an admirably painted panorama 
 slides before the eye, and the whole theatre seems to be in the course 
 of actual transportation to the temple at Ephesus, which is the crown- 
 ing scenic glory of the play. The dresses, too, are brilliant. As beseems 
 an Eastern story, the events all pass among princes. Xow the spec- 
 tator has a scene presented to him occupied by characters Avho appear 
 to have stepped out of a Greek vase ; and presently he looks into an 
 Assyrian palace and sees Qgures that have come to life and colour 
 from the stones of Nineveh. There are noble banquets and glittering 
 processions, and in the banquet-hall of King Simonides there is a dance 
 which is a marvel of glitter, combinations of colour, and quaint 
 picturesque effect. There are splendid trains of courtiers, there are 
 shining rows of Vestal virgins, and there is Diana herself in the sky. 
 We are told that the play of Pericles enjoyed for its own sake, when 
 it first appeared, a run of popularity that excited the surprise and envy 
 of some playwrights, and became almost proverbial. It ceased to be 
 acted in the days of Queen Anne, and whether it would attract noAV 
 as a mere acted play, in spite of the slight put upon it by our fathers 
 and grandfathers, it is impossible to say, since the Pericles of Sadler's 
 Wells may be said to succeed only because it is a spectacle." 
 
 The second criticism was written by Douglas Jerrold, and the 
 third by John Oxenford, and appeared respectively in Lloyd's 
 Weekly London News and the Times as follows : —
 
 ELEVENTH SEASON, 1854—1855. 143 
 
 Pericles at Sadler's "\Yells. 
 
 " Mr. Phelps lias just paid his annual tribute of admiration to the 
 genius of Shakespeare. The tribute may not, perhaps, be so grand as 
 that paid on previous years, but still it is graced with so much beauty 
 and refined taste as to make one forget the somewhat inferior value 
 of the gift in the very superior workmanship that adorns it. You are 
 not so much dazzled by the lavish amount of wealth as charmed by 
 the patient, enriching skill that, out of poor materials, has constructed 
 an elaborate work of art. You ca;i trace the hand of a master in 
 the smallest details, and delight in admiring the extreme delicacy with 
 which the grossncss of the original has been either removed, or else 
 tenderly softened down, without in the least disturbing or weakening 
 the general effect of the design. The fourth act, so dangerous to 
 represent, has been disinfected of its impurities in a manner that 
 would win the praise of the most fastidious member of the most moral 
 Board of Health that ever held its sittings within the camphored 
 precincts of Exeter Hall. The greatest theatrical purist need not be 
 afraid to visit that foul room at ^litylene, since it has been white- 
 washed and purified by the pen of Mr. Phelps. As for the grace and 
 grandeur with Avhich the whole play has been made visible to the eye, 
 we recommend all who love to see their poetical dreams realized to 
 pay Sadler's Wells a visit with the full certainty of deriving from it a 
 pleasure, pure and classical, such as their quickened imaginations could 
 possibly have formed no conception of. Many managers spend more 
 money, probably, than Mr. Phelps on their Shakspearean productions, 
 but none of them know how to spend their money so well. With the 
 former it is the vulgar display of a rich j^ccrveiiu, who spreads his gold 
 and silver over every little object ; Avith the latter, it is the educated 
 judgment of an artist, who, knowing what to decorate, gets the greatest 
 efi'ects out of the smallest means. Mr. Phelps never fails in opening 
 his academy for Shakespeare, nor in exhibiting a new picture, every 
 year. If the one now before the town is deficient as compared with 
 its predecessors in the choice of subject, it is fully equal to any one of 
 them in its gorgeous and artistic treatment, that is in every respect 
 worthy of the proud gallery of which it now forms jtart. The only 
 figure omitted in the picture is the poet Gower, who appears in the 
 original ])]ay as a kind of Chorus, whose duty it is to connect one act 
 witli another, throwing down a series of suspension-bridges, by means 
 of wliich the reader is carried over the several large gaps in the story. 
 The interest, however, would not l)e mu(;h increased by his presence. 
 Pericles cannot be called an acting i)lay, perfect in all its relations ; 
 and no explanations sj)ok('n at the commencement of each act, like the 
 headings put at the beginning of every cha])t(!r in a Ijook, could 
 jiossibly bind it into consistency, or anything like symmetrical union. 
 It is a rapid series of disconnected incidents, a long panoranui of
 
 144 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 rambling adventures, following one another without any proper order 
 of succession, and any one or two of which could well be taken away 
 without serious detriment to the remainder. It is a play, as rendered 
 by Mr. Phelps, more to be seen than heard — a Shakespearean play, in 
 which the painting for once has got the master-hand of the poetry. 
 What little interest there is does not commence till the fourth act, and 
 the only etFective situation is to be found in the last scene but one, 
 where Pericles recovers his daughter. Every justice is done to this 
 situation by Mr. Phelps, who acts Math wonderful strength and feeling, 
 as if he had reserved all his powers, and concentrated them into that 
 one effort. Miss Heraud played the part of his daughter Marina 
 with great simplicity and sweetness, and owing to her grace and dignity 
 the most dangerous scene of the play went off with the greatest 
 applause. She has achieved a success in a most difficult part that 
 experienced actresses would scarcely have been blamed if they had 
 failed in. Of the scenic wonders, we cannot pretend to give the 
 smallest catalogue. Ruskin, who is so rarely pleased to be pleased 
 when others are pleased, might, without damaging his well-won 
 reno\vn for fastidiousness, expatiate with a glow worthy of one of 
 Turner's pictures on their many beauties, and publish a pamphlet 
 expressly to immortalize the name of Fenton, who is the happy scene- 
 painter on this occasion. The rare perfection, generally so admired in 
 all productions of the great Bard to whose memory the lessee has 
 already dedicated so many beautiful acts of worship, has been nobly 
 maintained, if not surpassed, in this instance ; and Pericles, with its 
 rolling sea and tossing ship, its Tyrian galley, and various marvels of 
 poetic scenery and costume, will be the dramatic town-talk for several 
 weeks to come. Mr. Phelps is the best commentator of Shakespeare the 
 people ever had — a commentator that, instead of obscuring the text, 
 as commentators generally do, throws a new light upon it. Islington 
 should be not a little proud of the constant opportunity of reading 
 Shakespeare by such a light ! " 
 
 " It is the custom at Sadler's "Wells to distinguish every season by 
 some dramatic curiosity that shall be talked about all over London. 
 Sometimes the wonder put forward is a well-known play, fitted up 
 with a novel style of decoration ; sometimas it is a long-forgotten 
 work, familiar to none but students of old literature, and startling to 
 a general public, as a strange phantom sprung from an ancient sepul- 
 chre. The curiosity of this present season is a greater curiosity than 
 any that has preceded, being neither more nor less than the play of 
 Pericles, Prince of Tyre, which will be found in all modern editions 
 of Shakespeare's works. In the Elizabethan days this play was so 
 popular that the prologue to the old comedy of The Hog hath Lost 
 his Pearl concludes with the lines : — 
 
 ' And if it prove so happy as to please, 
 "We'll say 'tis fortunate, like Pericles.'
 
 ELEVENTH SEASON, 1854—1855. 145 
 
 " This expression, as a commentator suggests, miglit have been 
 intended as a sneer, but it is evidence that the play was thouglit lucky, 
 if not deserving, and a passage from Ben Jonson's ode, ' Come, leave 
 the loathed stage,' shows that that stern dramatist found an instance 
 of the bad taste of his time in the success of a ' mouldy tale like 
 Pericles.' Somewhere about 1660, when a bookseller named Rhodes 
 obtained a licence for acting prior to the date of Killigrew's and 
 D'Avenant's patents, Pericles was one of the plays chosen for perform- 
 ance, and the principal character is said to have been one of Betterton's 
 best parts. From that time, we believe, the play, as a whole, has 
 remained on the shelf, though George Lillo, the author of George 
 Barnwell, worked up the latter portion of the story into a three-act 
 play, called Marina, Avhich was produced at Covent Garden in 1738. 
 These facts of ancient fame and subsequent neglect are enough to settle 
 the point that Pericles is a ' curiosity.' 
 
 "But Pericles is also a curiosity as a source of literary- discussion, 
 for it is one of those plays that give cause to a very ' pretty quarrel ' 
 among commentators as to whether Shakespeare wrote it or not. 
 Evidence extrinsic and intrinsic has been largely adduced, and while, 
 on the one hand, the whole work has been deemed unworthy of 
 Shakespeare, certain passages, on the other hand, have been thought 
 to bear the Shakespearean stamp. We would refer those who like 
 discussions of the sort to the ' Notice on the Authenticity of Pericles ' 
 contained in Mr. Charles Knight's edition of Shakespeare, and here 
 content ourselves with stating the conclusion at which that gentleman 
 arrives — namely, that the work was probably a production of Shake- 
 speare's earliest youth, and was afterwards touched up by him in 
 years of maturity. 
 
 " One thing must be evident to all who read the play without 
 prejudice— that, whether it is the work of the individual Shakespeare 
 or not, it is no exponent of the mind to which we owe the great 
 monuments of our national dramatic literature. The curious in com- 
 parison may, if they please, on the assumption that Pericles is a 
 juvenile work, find in it faint indications of characters afterwards 
 brought into strong relief. Dionyza may be considered a feeble germ 
 of Lady Macbeth; Marina may suggest a thought of Imogen; the 
 reappearance of Thaisa may recall to mind the reappearance of Iler- 
 mione. However, such comparisons, though they may bo very interest- 
 ing as ]isychological studies, do not aiFect the value of Pericles as a 
 specimen of a dramatic art. In itself it is a work utterly witliout 
 developed character, and utterly without dramatic unity. To call it 
 an iiidi Ill-rent drama would be a mistake as well as an injustice ; it is, 
 really, not a drama at all. It belongs to a numerous class of priinitivo 
 works, the author of which has thought it quite enough if, without 
 rfganl to dramatic concentration, dramatic purpose, or even dramatic 
 elTi-ct, he takes up a pojiular tale and distrilnites the ])crsonages that 
 figure in it among a comiiany of actors. At a time when reading was 
 not so universal as it is now, and the theatre not only auswcivd the 
 
 L
 
 146 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 exigencies of the theatrically inclined, but also performed the functions 
 of the novel and the magazine, it is easy to understand that a mixed 
 audience, without the word ' hlase ' in their vocabulary, might listen 
 with pleasure to a tale full of adventures, rather told than acted by 
 the actors, just as a crowd of Arabs will assemble round the purveyor 
 of Oriental fiction. The story of Apollonius, Prince of Tyre, narrated 
 by Gower in his Confessio Amantis, and otherwise circulated, would, 
 with an audience of this unsophisticated kind, answer the purpose 
 fully as well as any other, for a series of hairbreadth escapes and 
 strange vicissitudes was all that was required, 
 
 " In such means of excitement the play of Pericles, which is based 
 
 on the story of Apollonius, is most abundant. Pericles (perhaps a 
 
 corruption of Pyrocles, for he has nothing to do with the great 
 
 Athenian) is a Prince of Tyre, come to Antioch for the purpose of 
 
 wooing the king's daughter. Like CEdipus, he has to solve a riddle, 
 
 aftd lose his life in case of failure, while a skilful solution Avill entitle 
 
 him to the hand of the Princess. His ingenuity triumphs over the 
 
 enigma, but at the same time discovers an incestuous affair that induces 
 
 him to leave Antioch with abhorrence, and to return to Tyre. Fearing, 
 
 however, the vengeance of Antiochus, he again sets sail and comes to 
 
 Tharsus, where he finds the people perishing with famine, and supplies 
 
 them with corn. Wrecked after leaving Tharsus, he is cast on the 
 
 shore of * Pentapolis,' and, as his armour is cast ashore also, he is 
 
 enabled to take part in a tournament, at which he gains the hand of 
 
 the king's daughter, Thaisa. The death of Antiochus allows him to 
 
 return homewards with his wife, who apparently dies on board the 
 
 ship while giving birth to a child, and is thrown overboard in a chest 
 
 to allay the superstitious fears of the sailors, who ascribe the fury of a 
 
 storm to the presence of a corpse on board. The chest that contains 
 
 Thaisa is thrown on the coast at Ephesus, and the lady, restored to 
 
 life by Cerimon, a good old lord, becomes a priestess of Diana, In 
 
 the meanwhile Pericles has left his infant daughter Marina with the 
 
 Governor of Tharsus, whom he had formerly obliged by liis bounty. 
 
 Fifteen years elapse ; and Marina, so named from her birth at sea, 
 
 is now the heroine of the tale. Dionyza, the wife of Cleon, the 
 
 Governor, is jealous of the superiority of Marina to her OAvn daughter, 
 
 and commissions an assassin to murder her. Her life is saved by 
 
 some pirates, who carry her off in their ship, and sell her to the keeper 
 
 of a house of infamy at Mitylene. Here she not only resists all 
 
 temptation, but actually converts tlie visitors of the establishment, 
 
 including Lysiraachus, the Governor of Mitylene, to a virtuous course 
 
 of life. At this juncture Pericles, sick at heart with his losses, 
 
 happens to arrive at Mitylene, Avhere it is thought that the musical 
 
 talent of Marina will recreate his Aveary mind. She is invited on 
 
 board his vessel, a recognition takes place, and the goddess Diana, 
 
 in a vision, exhorts him to go to Ephesus, where he finds his wife 
 
 also. 
 
 " Such a mere story, devoid of every element that can constitute a
 
 ELEVENTH SEASON, 1854-1855. 147 
 
 dramatic work — for the most elaborated scenes, those which take place 
 at Mitylene, are too gross for representation, save in a most attenuated 
 form — conld not interest any audience of the present day as a mere 
 play. But in the hands of Mr. Phelps it assumes a value not its 
 own ; for the variety of countries which are visited by the hero affords 
 an excellent opportunity for variety of scenic effect. As the old 
 audience of Pericles took delight in a succession of adventures, in- 
 artificially set forth, so may a modern audience take delight in a 
 succession of brilliant decorations. 
 
 " Certaiidy, as a spectacle, the play of Pericles, as produced at 
 Sadler's Wells, is a marvel. Xot a single opportunity is missed for 
 hanging on a wondrous picture or group that shall hide the paucity of 
 dramatic interest. When Pericles is thrown on the sands, it is with 
 the very best of rolling seas, the waves advancing and receding as 
 when governed by Mr. IMacready, in Acis and Galatea, at Drury Lane. 
 In the palace of Pentapolis he finds costumes of a kind witli which 
 we have been familiarized by Sardanapalus, at the Princess's. When 
 the storm afterwards rocks his vessel, it rocks in real earnest, and 
 spectators of delicate stomachs may have uneasy reminiscences of 
 Folkestone and Boulogne. But all this is as nothing to the wonders 
 that take place when Pericles has discovered his daughter, and sets 
 oil' for Ephesus. An admirably etjuipped Diana, Avith her car in the 
 clouds, orders his course to her sacred city, to which he is conducted 
 by a moving panorama of excellently-painted coast scenery. The 
 interior of the temple, where the colossal figure of the many-breasted 
 goddess stands in all its glory amid gorgeously-attired votaries, is the 
 last ' bang ' of the general magnificence. 
 
 " It is on the scenery and costume that the piece depends, for the 
 personages in general do little else than walk on and walk off the 
 stage, without betraying or exciting an emotion. But there is one 
 touch of acting on the part of Mr. Phelps which is too admirable to 
 be passed over. This is the manner in which he portrays the feelings 
 of the father while gradually recognizing his daughter, in the fifth act. 
 Grief has rendered him almost incapable of hope, and, unwilling to 
 believe the unaccustomed approach of joy, he looks at his child with 
 fixed eye and haggard cheek, gasping with anxiety, till doubt at last 
 gives way to certainty, and he falls weeping on the neck of Marina. 
 This scene was the only opportunity for acting throughout the piece, 
 and Mr. Phelps availed himself of it most felicitously. The part nf 
 Marina was sustained in an artless manner by Miss Edith lleraud, 
 who made her dt^hut on the occasion, though the part has lost much 
 (if its significance by the necessary omission of the bestialities in the 
 fourth act. 
 
 " A loud call for Mr. Phelps, and another loud call for Mr. l''en- 
 ton, the scene-painter, foUoweil the hurricane of applause which a 
 crowded audience awarded to the resuscitation of Pericles on Saturday 
 night." 
 
 L 2
 
 14? LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 Nothing else new was produced during this season, which was 
 brought to a close at the end of March, except Rob Roy for Mr. 
 Phelps's benefit on 14th of that month, when he played with 
 great success Mackay's great part of the Bailie Nicol Jarvie for 
 the first time. The other plays acted during the season were 
 The Rivals, in which he acted Sir Anthony Absolute, Richelieu, 
 The School for Scandal, in which he was Sir Peter Teazle, 
 Douglas, Werner, Othello, The Stranger, A Winter's Tale, The 
 Bridal, Hamlet, and Macbeth. 
 
 1855—1856- 
 
 The twelfth season commenced the 8th September, 1855, 
 with The Hunchback, in which he appeared for the first time 
 for very many years, but in which he frequently appeared after- 
 wards. His performance and conception of this character was 
 different from that of any other actor that had appeared in it. 
 He showed an immense deal of fine dry humour in The Hunch- 
 back, which every one else seemed to have overlooked. He also 
 brought out the fine pathos and ruggedness which he saw in it 
 in certain scenes with a force peculiarly his own. The piece 
 was very successful. Mr. Macready came with Mr. Forster to 
 see him in this character, and wrote him a letter the next day 
 highly complimenting him on his performance, saying it was 
 the only theatre he had put his foot in since his retirement, and 
 he would have been delighted to have shaken him by the hand, 
 but dared not trust himself again behind the scenes.* 
 
 Then followed in September and October Rob Roy, Virginius, 
 The Tempest, The Lady of Lyons, Hamlet, The Wife, and a 
 new play called Hamilton of Bothwellhaugh, produced on 24th 
 of the latter month. This last was acted every night until 
 8th November, when he produced The Comedy of Errors, which 
 was acted with the new play, Othello, The Hunchback, The 
 
 * This letter, which I read at the time, was not preserved by him, as were 
 others which will appear at the end of tliis volume, principally T suspect 
 because it accused some of the daily Press in good plain terms of neglecting 
 liim, wiiilst they wrote up the productions at the Piincess's, which Mr. 
 Macready considered, from what he had heard of both theatres from Mr. 
 Forster and others, were not to be compartd with Mr. Phelps's. — W"M. P.
 
 TWELFTH SEASON, 1855-1856. 149 
 
 T<Iercliant of Venice, A Midsummer Night's Dream, and King 
 Lear, until Christmas. 
 
 On Boxing Night The Lady of Lyons was acted, and on 1st 
 January, 1856, The Merchant of Venice, followed by A Mid- 
 summer Night's Dream, The Comedy of Errors, The Tempest, 
 Hamlet, The City Madam, A Winter's Tale, King John, Othello, 
 The Bridal, and A New Way to Pay Old Debts, which pieces 
 were jjlayed until 12th March, when betook his benefit, playing 
 Sir Edward Mortimer and Don Felix, and the season closed at 
 the end of the month. 
 
 1856^1857- 
 
 The thirteenth season commenced on 6th September, 1856, 
 with Macbeth, and we here insert a criticism on it by Bayle 
 Bernard, from the Weekly Dispatch : — 
 
 Sadler's Wells. 
 
 " We are glad to record the reopening of this theatre, for its close 
 deprives a large and populous neighbourhood of dramatic entertain- 
 ment, and of a character the most estimable. So firm a hold has the 
 intelligent management taken ii\ the good opinion, not only of the 
 residents, hut of the metropolis generally, that even a revival of one of 
 Shakespeare's too long dormant plays is not deemed necessary, but a 
 recurrence is had to perhaps his greatest tragedy, Macbeth, in which 
 ^Ir. Plielps plays the ambitious and criminal Thane. Of his perform- 
 ance of this part Ave have often had occasion to speak. He always 
 brings an amount of intelligence to bear upon his interpretation of 
 classic roles, which strikingly distinguishes them above the level of the 
 acting of the day — not distinguishing them by new and subtle readings, 
 rarely if ever understood, and often more curious than proper — not by 
 a leaning to the physical mode of obtaining ai)plause, but a reading 
 which adopts tlie truths and beauties of nature, that addresses itself 
 alike to the mind and the feelings. The ruggeduess in his acting 
 of which some complain is rather a merit than a blemish, since it 
 proclaims an honest reliance upon his own powers. Originality is, in 
 ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, better than inutation, even though 
 the latter be derived from a better model Mr. Phelps powerfully 
 portrays the struggles with conscience whicli agitate. Macbeth in the 
 earlier scenes, and as powerfully sustains the character in its full 
 career of crime. The audience greeted their favourite manager enthiisi- 
 astically, and the like ' flattering unction ' fell to the share of Mr. 
 Marstou as Macduff."
 
 150 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 Duriug the month this was acted with The School for Scandal, 
 Tlie Man of the World, Measure for Measure, Richelieu, and 
 The Merry Wives of Windsor. In October, The Merry Wives of 
 Windsor, and Hamlet, were acted until 11th of the month, when 
 he again revived Timon of Athens, on which the two following 
 criticisms appeared, the first from the pen of F. G. Tomlins, in 
 the Morning Advertiser, and the second from that of Professor 
 Morley (editor), in the JExaminer: — 
 
 Sadler's Wells. 
 
 " To initiate a good system, whether in morals or arts, is a noble 
 thing ; but to continue in it with an miflinching reliance upon it as a 
 principle, is a nobler and rarer proceeding. A reformer has many 
 tilings to encourage him to start ; few to continue his brave resolu- 
 tions. Novelty, that lends a lustre even to the frivolous changes of 
 fashion, encourages and assists first efforts in everything ; but we 
 commonly see that when the gloss of freshness has passed away, 
 efforts relax, good resolutions pull in, and enterprises of great pith 
 and moment do from their onward current turn away, and lose the 
 name of action. Such is too generally the fate of human efforts at 
 improvement, for perseverance is a scarcer quality than courage ; and 
 continuity of mental effort than invention. This praiseworthy 
 quality belongs, however, especially to the managers of Sadler's Wells 
 Theatre. Some ten years since they commenced a comj^lete reforma- 
 tion in the mode of conducting a theatre, and they have persevered 
 with unabated energy in carrying out their admirable system. To 
 illustrate, and not to obhterate by embellishment, the highest dramatic 
 works was their aim ; and successively to produce all that was capable 
 of theatrical exposition in our great national dramatist they devoted 
 themselves and their capital. With how much judgment they have 
 done this, with what discriminating taste, with what appreciation 
 of the author, and with what instruction and gratification to their 
 audiences, can only be known by those who have, season after season, 
 watched their progress and enjoyed their productions. 
 
 " One cause of the super-excellence with which the great dramas 
 have been produced here is, that the artistic and poetical mind of 
 Mr. Phelps has ever kept in view that the great element of the drama 
 is human passion. He has felt that, without the delineation of this, 
 not only in an adequate and prominent, but in a snper-eminent manner, 
 the stage is but a showman's booth, and is likely to sink to a nnxture 
 of the diorama and the casino. The difference between the exhibi- 
 tions in Oxford Street and Sadler's Wells is exactly this ; because 
 at the head of one is a showman, who as lavishly illustrates Pizarro 
 as Macbeth, whilst at the other is an artist, who, though he archfeo- 
 logically illustrates his author, never forgets that better are bare 
 hoards and immovable scenery, with the fervour and genius that
 
 THIRTEENTH SEASON, 1856—1857. Isl 
 
 can delineate human character and passion, than an ovenvhehning 
 show that dwarfs the meaerre actor to an liomuncuhis. ElevatinEC 
 still-life over historic and histrionic ability, and giving to stocks 
 and stones the position of genius and poetry, is a misuse of dramatic 
 art. 
 
 " This contrast struck us forcibly on witnessing, on Saturday night, 
 the revival at Sadler's ^Vells of Shakespeare's noble but seldom-acted 
 play of Timon of Athens. It is about five years since it was first 
 produceil at this theatre with elalx)rate care, and with picturesque 
 illustration by the scene-painter. On Saturday night it was revived 
 with many additions, much of the scenery being new painted, and 
 altogether with a breadth of effect and a minuteness of completeness 
 that the opportunity naturally offered to minds devoted to the greatest 
 possible artistic illustration of the circumstances and events of such 
 a magnificent play. Notwithstanding the numerous scenes, the rich 
 garments, and all the costly materials that pervade the performance 
 from the beginning to the end, with a reality that crowds the mind 
 with ideas of a lx)undless luxury and revelry, still the human interest 
 prevails ; we are delighted to see the various characters develop 
 themselves, and hear from each their characteristic impressions of the 
 scenes and events in which they are engaged. Nor is the one great 
 central figure dwarfed by the magnificence and variety around him, 
 but towers above it all with the superiority of the animate over the 
 inanimate, and of the great human feeling over all accidents, however 
 sensuous or dazzling. 
 
 " Timon, as performed by INIr. Phelps, is never less, but always 
 greater than his circumstances, which is more than can be said of 
 most actors in such a position. We care nothing for the gold and 
 glitter, the pomp and circumstance, the art and luxury, with which 
 he is surrounded ; but we lament when we see his prodigal generosity, 
 and sympathize with his unreasonable and impassioned misanthropy, 
 when he learns too late to judge of men. To thus interest by the 
 delineation of the man, and concentrate our attention upon him, 
 shows the power of acting ; and proves that the right uses of the 
 stage are at least maintained at Sadler's Wells Theatre. 
 
 " It is in the latter scenes that Mr. Phelps manifests his great 
 power of delineating character and passion. There the deep canker 
 of Timon's suft'ering is shown in every action and every tone. The 
 spoiled child of the world has received a sudden lesson of life, and 
 shocked and shattered by the truth thus thrust on him, it kills him. 
 The change is too violent, too sudden. His confiding natui'e, his 
 simple heart, his unworldly mind is overwhelmed by the discovery, 
 and he cannot recover the shock. The great humanities never leave 
 any of Shakespeare's true men. He has nothing morbid in his 
 writings, and we are never led to feel that Timon is right in his 
 indiscriminating denunciations of mankind ; but we cannot but mourn 
 over a naturally nolde nature thus ui)set, and symjiathize witli him 
 as we do with the illogical young Ihunlct, and the irascible old
 
 153 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 monarch Lear. Timon is a thorough Shakespearean character, with 
 the mingled good and ill inseparable from humanity. His interview 
 with the Steward is a master-stroke of dramatic genius, for it aifords 
 the audience a just cause of sympathy ; and it is deeply pathetic, 
 for it shows what a noble creature he might have been had he been 
 wisely trained. All this portion is exquisitely acted by Mr. Phelps, 
 and the broken heart, for of such Timon really perishes, is apparent 
 from the time when he finds that all the protestations he has heard 
 are flatteries, and that he is a dupe in a world of selfishness and 
 duplicity. 
 
 " The play is a setting for the central figure, as is always the case 
 in the great dramas, when a name gives the title of the piece, and 
 therefore upon the subsidiary parts it is unnecessary to dilate ; but 
 they were all uttered with a full intelligence of the author, and with 
 painstaking effect. Mr. Marston, as Apemantus ; Mr. Eae, as the 
 Steward; and Mr. Eayner, as Alcibiades, fulfilled admirably their 
 parts. The scenery, by Mr. Fenton, is not only archicologically 
 correct, but picturesquely beautiful ; and the diorama that shows the 
 attack on Athens by Alcibiades, and the march of his army, is a 
 masterpiece of effect and contrivance. The audience at this theatre 
 come with all the desire that the French so much urge, ' to assist,' 
 and listen with a dumb reverence to the text, and appreciate every 
 tone and emphasis. The slightest interruption is immediately chided 
 into silence, and the applause bursts out in spontaneous volleys, 
 alternated by a deep and sustained attention, itself an expression of 
 the profoundest admiration. Nor is this approbation excessive, for 
 whoever desires to see the true uses of the stage, and the value of 
 a national drama, be he scholar or imlearned, high or low, should 
 certainly wend his way to Sadler's Wells, to see Shakespeare's Timon 
 of Athens." 
 
 " Timon of Athens has been reproduced again by Mr. Phelps, with 
 even more pains than were bestowed upon his former revival of that 
 play, which, when he first produced it, had been acted but a few times 
 since the days of Shakespeare. As noAV performed it is exceedingly 
 effective. A main cause of the success of Mr. Phelps in his Shake- 
 spearean revivals is, that he shows in his author above all things the 
 poet. Shakespeare's plays are alwaj^s poems as performed at Sadler's 
 Wells. The scenery is always beautiful, but it is not allowed to draw 
 attention from the poet, Avith whose whole conception it is made to 
 blend in the most perfect harmony. The actors are content also to be 
 subordinated to the play, learn doubtless at rehearsals how to subdue 
 excesses of expression, that by giving undue force to one ])art would 
 destroy the balance of the whole, and blend their Avork in sucli a way 
 as to produce everywhere the right emphasis. If Mr. Phelps takes 
 upon himself the character which needs the most elaborate development, 
 however carefully and perfectly he may produce his own impression of 
 his part, he never by his acting drags it out of its place in the drama.
 
 THIRTEENTH SEASON, 1856—1857. 153 
 
 I- ^ 
 
 He takes heed that every part, even the meanest, shall have in tlie 
 acting as much prominence as Shakespeare gave it in his plan, and it 
 is for this reason that with actors, many of whom are anything but 
 stars, the result most to be desired is really obtained. Shakespeare 
 appears in his integrity, and his jilays are found to affect audiences 
 less as dramas, in a common sense, than as great poems. This is the 
 case especially with Timon. It may be that one cause of its long 
 neglect, as potent as the complaint that it excites no interest by female 
 characters, is the large number of dramatis j^^i'sonce, to whom are 
 assigned what many actors might consider parts of which they can make 
 nothing, and who, being presented m a slovenly way by a number of 
 inferior performers, would leave only one part in the drama, and take 
 all the power out of that. Such an objection has not, however, any 
 weight at Sadler's Wells, where every member of the company is 
 taught to regard the poetry he speaks according to its nature rather 
 than its quantity. The personators of the Poet and the Painter in the 
 first scene of the Timon as now acted, manifestly say what Shake- 
 speare has assigned to them to say, with as much care and as much 
 certainty that it will be listened to with due respect, as if they were 
 themselves Timons, Hamlets, and Macbeths. N'obody rants, — it 
 becomes his part that Alcibiades should be a little blustering, — nothing 
 is slurred ; a servant who has anything to say says it in earnest, 
 making his words heard and his meaning felt. And so it is that, 
 although only in one or two cases we may have observed at Sadler's 
 "Wells originality of genius in the actor, we have nevertheless perceived 
 something like the entire sense of one of Shakespeare's plays, and have 
 been raised above ourselves by the perception. It is not because of 
 anything peculiar in the air of Islington, or because an audience at 
 Pentonville is made of men differing in nature from those who would 
 form an audience in the Strand, that Shakespeare is listened to at 
 Sadler's Wells with reverence not shown elsewhere. What has been 
 done at Islington could, if the same means were employed, be done at 
 Drury Lane. Put Shakespeare is not fairly heard when he is made 
 to speak from behind masses of theatrical upholstery, or when it is 
 assumed that there is but one character in any of his plays, and that 
 the others may be acted as incompetent performers please. If the 
 Messiah were performed at Exeter Hall, with special care to intrust 
 some of the chief solos to a good bass or contralto, the rest being left 
 to chance, and members of the chorus allowed liberty to sing together 
 in all keys, we should enjoy Handel much as we are soviftimns asked 
 to enjoy Shakespeare on the London stage. What Signer Costa will 
 do for an orchestra the manager must do for his company, if ho Avoidd 
 jjresent a work of genius in such a way as to i)rocure for it a full 
 appreciation. 
 
 " Such thoughts are suggested by the effect which Timon of Athens 
 is producing on tlie audicaices at Sadler's Wells. The ]tlay is a jxieiii 
 to them. The false friends, of whom one declares, ' The swallow 
 follows not summer more willing, than wc your lordship,' and upon
 
 154 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 whom Tiuion retorts, ' Nor more willingly leaves winter,' are as old 
 as the institution of society. Since men had commerce first together 
 to the present time, the cry has been, ' Such summer birds are men.' 
 The rush of a generous, impulsive nature from one rash extreme into 
 the other, the excesses of the man who never knew ' the middle of 
 humanity,' is but another common form of life. And when have men 
 not hung — the poets, the philosophers, the lovers, the economists, men 
 of all habits — over a contemplation of the contrast between that soft 
 town life, represented by the luxury of Athens in its wealth and its 
 effeminacy, and the life of a man who, like Timon before his cave's 
 mouth, turns from gold because it is not eatable, and digs in the wood 
 for roots 1 With a bold hand Shakespeare grasped the old fable of 
 Timon, and moulded it into a form that expresses much of the per- 
 plexity and yearning of our nature. He takes up Timon, a free-handed 
 and large-hearted lord, who, though ' to Laceda^mon did his lands 
 extend,' found them too little to content his restless wish to pour 
 himself all out in kindness to his fellows. He leaves him dead by the 
 shore of the mysterious eternal sea. I do not dwell upon the play 
 itself, for here the purpose only is to show in what way it can be 
 made, when fitly represented — and is made at Sadler's Wells — to stir 
 the spirit as a poem. Mr. Phelps in his own acting of Timon treats 
 the character as an ideal, as the central figure in a mystery. As the 
 liberal Athenian lord, his gestures are large, his movements free — out 
 of himself everything pours, towards himself he will draw nothing. 
 As the disappointed Timon, whose love of his kind is turned to hate, 
 he sits on the ground self-contained, but miserable in the isolation, 
 from first to last contrasting with Apemantus, whom ' fortune's tender 
 arm never with favour clasped,' who is a churl by the original sourness 
 of his nature, hugs himself in his own ragged robe, and worships 
 himself for his own ill-manners. Mr. Marston's Apemantus is well 
 acted, and helps much to secure a right understanding of the entire 
 play." 
 
 During October and November, until loth, Love's Sacrifice, 
 The Merry Wives of Windsor, Julius Caesar, and The Man of the 
 World were played when Timon was not acted ; and on that 
 date he jDroduced from the text' Shakespeare's Taming of the 
 Shrew, and on the 6th December the following appeared in the 
 JExaminer from the pen of its editor, Professor Morley : — 
 
 The induction to The Taming of the Shrew enables Mr. Phelps to 
 represent in Christopher Sly Shakespeare's sketch of a man purely 
 sensual and animal, brutish in appetite, and with a man unleavened 
 by fancy. Such a presentment would not suit the uses of the poet, 
 it coidd excite only disgust, if it were not throughout as humorous as 
 faithful. Mr. Phelps knows this ; and perhaps the most interesting 
 point to be noted in his Christopher Sly is, that the uncompromising
 
 THIRTEENTH SEASON, 1856—1857. 155 
 
 truth of his portraiture of the man buried and lost in his animal nature, 
 is throughout, by subtle touches, easy to appreciate, but hard to follow, 
 made subservient to the laws of art ; and the sketch, too, is clearly 
 the more accurate for being humorous. Throughoiat we laugh and 
 understand. 
 
 " Hamlet and Christopher Sly are at the two ends of Shakespeare's 
 list of characters, and with a singular skill, Mr. Phelps, who is the 
 best Hamlet now upon the stage, banishes from his face every spark of 
 intelligence while representing Sly. Partly he affects this by keeping 
 the eyes out of court as witnesses of intelligence. The lids are drooped 
 in the heavy slumberousness of a stupid nature ; there is no such thing 
 as a glance of intelligence allowed to escape from under them ; the eyes 
 are hidden almost entirely when they are not widely exposed in a 
 stupid stare. The acting of this little sketch is, indeed, throughout 
 most careful and elaborate. There is, as we have said, no flinching 
 from the perfect and emphatical expression of the broader lights and 
 shadows of the character. Christopher is at first sensually drunk ; 
 and when, after his awakening in the lord's house, the page is intro- 
 duced to him as his lady wife, another chord of sensuality is touched, 
 the brute hugs and becomes amorous. Of the imagination that, even 
 when there are offered to the sensual body new delights of the appetite, 
 is yet unable to soar beyond the reach already attained, Mr. Phelps, in 
 the details of his acting, gives a variety of well-conceived suggestions. 
 Thus, to the invitation, ' Will't please your mightiness to wash your 
 hands 1 ' Christopher, when he has grasped the fact that a basin is 
 being held before him in which he must wash, enters upon such a 
 wash as sooty hands of tinkers only can require, and having made an 
 end of washing and bespattering, lifts up instinctively the corner of 
 his velvet robe to dry his hands upon. 
 
 " The stupidity of Sly causes his disappearance from the stage in the 
 most natural Avay after the play itself has warmed into full action. 
 He has of course no fancy for it, is unable to follow it, stares at it, 
 and falls asleep over it. The sport of imagination acts upon him as a 
 sleeping-draught, and at the end of the first act he is so fast asleep that 
 it becomes matter of course to carry him away. The induction thus 
 insensibly fades into the play, and all trace of it is lost by the time 
 that a lively interest in the comedy itself has been excited." 
 
 The following, written by F. G. Tomlins, was in the Morning 
 
 Advertiser : — 
 
 " On Saturday evening The Taming of the Shrew was i)roduced, with 
 new scenery, dresses, and decorations, being, according to the bills 
 of the performance, the twenty-ninth play of Shakespeare's jiroduced 
 under the present management. This statement briefly jxiints out 
 the obligations of the admirers of our great dranuitist to those who 
 liave so worthily and intelligently illustrated his works. It has also 
 proved that a far greater prupurtiou of the plays than had been
 
 1-56 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 supposed capable of interesting a modern audience, have been found 
 to be instinct with a vitality that is indestructible. 
 
 " The Taming of the Shrew is undoubtedly not one of the dramas 
 that place Shakespeare above and beyond all writers for the stage ; 
 and there can be no doubt that he bestowed but little pains upon it ; 
 taking up the old play and the old story, and merely rapidly running 
 over it, but leaving everywhere, both in character and language, the 
 traces of the richness of his mind. The plot comprises two stories, 
 as old as human society : the one consisting of young lovers baffling 
 old guardians ; and the other of a firm spirit subduing a shrewish one. 
 These tales are not very artistically interwoven by any one of the old 
 dramatists from Ariosto to Shakespeare ; for ingenuity of construction 
 is the last thing that comes into a theatre, and seems likely to be the 
 last thing remaining ; for it exists when wit, dialogue, and character 
 are gone ; as we see in the Parisian drama, and that of its English 
 followers of the present day. 
 
 " The most remarkable thing about The Taming of the Shrew is 
 the induction, a kind of prologue, in which the drunken boor is taken 
 by a nobleman to his house, and made to believe he is a lord, and to 
 delight Avhoin the veritable drama is played. This is no invention of 
 Shakespeare's, as it is found in the old play. The Taming of a Shrew, 
 and on what account so remarkable an introduction was given it is 
 difficult to say, probably to give some low comedian of the time an 
 opportunity of showing his talent in mimicking boorish simplicity 
 and drunkenness. Shakespeare has greatly heiglitened the character 
 of Sly, and many celebrated comedians have delighted in representing 
 the bewildered sot. From Hamlet and Brutus, there is a wide step 
 to Sly ; yet, as actors delight in showing their versatility, and truly it 
 is the strongest test of their power, we are not surprised that ]\[r. 
 Phelps undertook this brief part on Saturday. He depicts it with 
 Dutch fidelity and characteristic humour, and his rendering was as 
 fine as that of a stage Teniers or Ostade. The brutal sottishness, the 
 slow awaking to some degree of sense, the extreme perplexity at the 
 luxuries he is transferred to, and the humorous recognition of his 
 supposed lady, Avere all greatly relished by the audience, who here 
 watch every action of their favourite actors with eagerness, and with 
 an appreciation that bespeaks a cultivated conuoiseurship. The 
 applause was continuous, and a vehement call at the close of the 
 induction brought Mr. Phelps on the stage to receive the uinversal 
 admiration of the audience. 
 
 " The play then proceeded, and was very agreeably acted through- 
 out. The scenes with Petruchio and Katharina form the staple 
 commodity of the piece ; and the violence of the Shrew, and the 
 steady and severe training of her tamer, beget, as they always do, 
 hearty enjoyment in the audience. Mr. Marston is a capital Petruchio 
 — manly, hearty, humorous, but, withal, the gentleman. j\Iiss 
 Atkinson depicted with great force, perhaps somewhat in excess, the 
 Shrew ; but her gradual submission and her final speech were grace-
 
 THIRTEENTH SEASON, 1856—1857. 15t 
 
 fully and admirably rendered. Applause was liberally bestowed on 
 tliein, and a genuine and universal call was raised for them at the end 
 of the fourth act. Mr. Lewis Ball gave full effect to the foolish 
 serving-man, Grumio ; and Miss Eliza Travers great point to the 
 smart Eiondeilo. 
 
 " The lovers' portion was nicely played by Mr. Belford as Lucentio ; 
 Mt. Ivobiuson as Tranio ; Mr. Haywell as Hortensio ; Mr. "Williams 
 as the old Baptista ; Mr. T. C. Harris as Viiicentio ; and 'Mr. J. W. 
 Eay as Gremio ; who rendered this lively old man with great spirit 
 and sense. Miss Jenny Marston was a piretty and innocent Bianca, 
 and stood out adorned with feminine grace and gentleness, in contrast 
 to her fiery sister. 
 
 " The entire five acts were rigidly played, and it must be confessed 
 that to hackneyed play-goers of the modern school, the earlier scenes 
 occasionally dragged ; but the audience, we firmly believe, would not 
 liave lost a word. They come with the antique feeling to this theatre, 
 throw themselves into the story, and having, by close attention and 
 an intelligent sympathy, made personal acquaintance with tlie charac- 
 ters, tliey desire to know the liistory and the end of every one of them. 
 This was the exact feeling of the old audiences for whom the great 
 dramas were composed. They had sat out mysteries dramatising the 
 Ureation ; they had seen the whole chronicle histories put on the stage 
 with all their details ; and they had now the novels of the time 
 produced with all their minute incidents and numerous characters. 
 They were in no hurry to leave the theatre, but desired a full and 
 faithful representation of all matters. To them nothing was tedious 
 that related to the characters, and indeed they expected also poetical 
 dissertation, philosophical discussions, and witty commentary. What 
 relation this kind of drama has to the prevailing French school may 
 be readily perceived. This modern drama may be styled the impatient, 
 for in it all is eagerness and action, and the audience must be hurried 
 from event to event with railway celerity, to which it may well be 
 compared, for there is no time for observation on the journey, which 
 is ever barren, the only excitement being gained at the brief pauses at 
 the various situations, which, like stations, are placed along the swift 
 and unreflecting iron way. 
 
 " It is almost superfluous to say, this revival was well put on the 
 stage, for that is sure to be the case with a Shakespeare play at this 
 theatre. The dresses were particularly good, having the Italian 
 fashion, and being in remarkably good taste as to colour and material. 
 The house was crowded, and doubtless The Taming of tlie Shrew will 
 prove as attractive as the other twenty-eight dramas of Shakespeare, 
 that the managers have already so successfully produced." 
 
 This piece, with Othello, Hamlet, First Part of Ilciiry IV., 
 Virmnius, Macbeth, The School for Scandal, Venice Preserved, 
 Julius Ctesar, an<l The Merry Wives of Wiudtor, was played up
 
 158 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 to 14th January, 1857, when he again produced The Twelfth 
 Night ; and on the 24th of that month Professor Morley wrote 
 of this play as follows : — 
 
 " For the past fortnight the four nights a week dedicated at Sadler's 
 "VVells to Shakespeare have been occupied by performances of Twelfth 
 Night, last acted here five years ago, in which comedy the part of 
 Malvolio is that sustained by Mr. Phelps. When but half-a-dozen 
 more of these plays shall have been produced, it will be a subject of 
 just pride to the manager of Sadler's Wells that he will have mounted 
 on his little stage all the dramatic works of our great poet ; that — apart 
 from his own personations — he will have gathered round him a small 
 company of actors, zealous to perform them all with a true sense of 
 what they are about ; and will have taught an audience mainly com- 
 posed of hard-working men, who crowd a sixpenny gallery and shilling 
 pit, heartily to enjoy the sweetest and the noblest verse man ever 
 wrote. 
 
 " The aspect and behaviour of the pit and gallery at Sadler's "Wells 
 during the performance of one of Shakespeare's plays cannot fail to 
 impress most strongly every visitor who is unaccustomed to the place. 
 There sit our working classes in a happy crowd, as orderly and rever- 
 ent as if they were at church, and yet as unrestrained in their enjoyment 
 as if listening to stories told them by their own firesides. Shakespeare 
 spoke home to the heart of the natural man, even in the same words 
 that supply matter for nice judgment by the intellect. He was as a 
 cook who, by the same meat that feeds abundantly the hungry, 
 tickles with an exquisite dehght the palate of the epicure. It is hard 
 to say how much men who have had few advantages of education, 
 must in their minds and characters be strengthened and refined when 
 they are made accustomed to this kind of entertainment. 
 
 " Upon a stage thus managed Mr. Phelps has of late years been the 
 personator of about thirty of the characters of Shakespeare. Great men 
 or small, heroes or cowards, sages or simpletons, sensual or spiritual 
 men, he has taken all as characters that Shakespeare painted, studied 
 them minutely, and embodied each in what he thinks to be a true Shake- 
 spearean form. Bottom the Weaver, Brutus, Falstaff, Macbeth, Chris- 
 topher Sly are characters assumed by the same man, not to display 
 some special power in the actor, but the range of power in the poet to 
 whose illustration he devotes himself. Good tragedian as he is, we 
 suppose that it is in a sort of comedy, vaguely to be defined as dry and 
 intellectual, but in his hands always most diverting, that Mr. Phelps 
 finds the bent of his genius as an actor to be most favoured. Thus in 
 Malvolio he w'ould appear to have a part pretty exactly suited to his 
 humour, none the less so because there is perhaps no character in which 
 he is himself lost sight of so completely ; substance vanishes, and 
 shadow hves.
 
 THIRTEENTH SEASON, 1856—1857. 159 
 
 " ]\Ialvolio lives at Sadler's AVells in bearing and attire modelled 
 •upon the fashion of the Spaniard, as impassive in his manner as a 
 Spanish king should be. In one of the first sentences addressed to 
 him we are told his character : ' 0, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, 
 and taste things "vvith a distempered appetite.' Siich a man is the 
 Malvolio Ave see. When in his tasting of Maria's letter he betrays his 
 distempered appetite for greatness, we are not allowed to suppose for a 
 moment that he loves his mistress. Seeing that, as Maria says, ' it is 
 his ground of faith that all that look on him love him,' he accepts 
 easily the hope of greatness thrust upon him, and his rejoicing is in 
 the love of Olivia, not in the way of sympathy, but as a way to 
 * sitting in his state, calling his officers about him in his branched 
 velvet gown.' Such a man, as Mr. Phelps represents him, walks not 
 with a smirk and a light comic strut, but in the heaviness of grandeur, 
 with a face grave through very emptiness of all expression. This 
 Malvolio stalks blind about the world ; his eyes are very nearly covered 
 with their heavy lids, for there is nothing in the world without that is 
 worth noticing, it is enough for him to contemplate the excellence 
 within ; walled up in his own temple of the flesh, he is his own 
 adorer. If his ears are assailed with irreverences by the Fool, he counts 
 the Fool as naught, and is moved therefore but to the expression of a 
 passing shade of pity for his ignorance. Upon the debasement of Sir 
 Toby and Sir Andrew he looks down with very calm disdain. When 
 in the latter half of the play he has been bidden, as he thinks, by her 
 Avho will thrust greatness on him, to be opposite Avith a kinsman, 
 surly Avith servants, and, if he entertain her love, to let it appear in his 
 smiling, though he had been practising behaviour to his shadow, all 
 the smile he can produce is one of intense satisfaction Avith himself, 
 and all the surliness but a more open expression of disdain for those 
 AA'ho do not pay him homage. When locked up as a madman, he is 
 sustained by his self-content, and by the honest certainty that he has 
 been notoriously abused ; and Avhen at last he for once ojiens bis eyes 
 on learning how he has been tricked, they close again in hajipy self- 
 content, and he is retiring in state Avithout deigning a Avord to his 
 tormentors, Avhen, as the fool had tAvitted him by noting hoAv ' the 
 whirligig of time brings in his revenges,' he remembers that the Avhirli- 
 gig is still in motion. Therefore, marching back Avith as much increase 
 of speed as is consistent Avith magnificence, he threatens all — including 
 now Olivia in his contempt — ' I'll be revenged on the Avhole pack 
 of you.' 
 
 " Other Malvolios seen by the play-goers of this generation have been 
 more fantastical and caused more laughter — although this one causes 
 much — but the impression made Ijy them has been less deep. Fcav avIio 
 have seen or may see at Sadler's Wells the Spanish-looking stcAvard of 
 the Countess Ohvia, and laugheil at the rise and fall of his chateau en 
 K-<pa(//iii, Avill forget him sjiei'dily. Liko a rpiaiiit jiortrnit in Avhich 
 there are master-strokes, his figure may dAvell in the mind for years."
 
 160 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 Bayle Bernard, in the Weeldy Dispatch, also wrote the follow- 
 ing masterly criticism : — 
 
 Sadler's Wells. 
 
 " The Twelfth Night, in some respects, is the most charming comedy 
 of Shakespeare. If it have not the romance of As You Like It, nor 
 the brilliant wit of Much Ado, in amount of character and incident it 
 is superior to them both, whilst in absolute hilarity it is only equalled 
 by The Merry Wives of Windsor. The romantic part of the story 
 was taken, as usual, from Bandello, and very good it is ; the involve- 
 ment of Viola with Olivia and the Duke is just as engaging as it is 
 dramatic. The comic plot is Shakespeare's own. And liow well has 
 Genius adjusted the balance of original conception ! We have 
 nothing pleasanter or heartier in the Avhole round of comic fiction 
 than the conspiracy against Malvolio, or the enforced combat of the 
 two cowards, poor Sir Andrew and the Page. They stand out even 
 in the poet as master instances of the ludicrous. And if we can say 
 this of its incident, how much more of its character ! Save in Eosalind 
 and Imogen, where have we the parallel of Viola \ These only can • 
 compete with her in all that constitutes the poetic ideal of her sex — 
 gentleness, purity, affection ; whilst a distinction still remains to her 
 which some have thought a higher charm. Both Rosalind and Imogen 
 are of a hardier constitution. The one has a more buoyant, the other 
 a more enduring, spirit. There is a delicacy in Viola which almost 
 approaches to iragility, and which we feel to be as unequal to wild 
 enjoyment as to deep sorrow. Who does not see that if concealment 
 had continued to prey upon her cheek, life itself must have become 
 its food ; that, to her, happiness is being ! Pass from her side to that 
 of the chamberlain, and we enter a new world. We quit the ideal 
 for the real, and see it is as wonderful, if not as enchanting. We 
 have long held the opinion that Malvolio, next to Falstaif, is the 
 poet's highest comic conception. It is true, the one is humour's 
 epitome, whilst the other is biit one of its aspects ; but then that 
 other is so entirely a Avorld of feeling in itself that their difference 
 is rather one of measure than of kind. It is a somewhat smaller circle, 
 but an equally complete one. Never did self-esteem attain before to 
 such magnificent proportions. The consciousness of Malvolio has 
 almost a poetic elevation. He is a sun under a cloud — a true gentle- 
 man cloaked in livery. Servitude may degrade others, but him it 
 only purifies. It is the charcoal through which he filters. Thus, 
 Olivia's supposed regard for him is nothing overwhelming. It rather 
 comes as a matter of course. A hint from i\Iaria begets, and a thought 
 or two confirms it. She must always have perceived Ids merit, 
 and only waits her time to say so. And so, at once, he begins to 
 build his future, not so much in the spirit of a dream as of a reason- 
 able development of inevitable circumstances. ' Having been three 
 months married to her,' this is his first step ! His second is not so
 
 THIRTEENTH SEASON, 1856—1857. 161 
 
 much to dilate upon his greatness (his ' sitting in state ' in * his 
 branched velvet gown ') as to impress on his officers his easy sense of 
 it (he knows his place, as he would they should theirs), and more 
 especially to impress his sense of it on his unruly kinsman, Toby. 
 ' Quenching his familiar smile with an austere regard of control,' he 
 would let him see that his riglit of speech was, after all, but one 
 of the adjustments of a compensating destiny. ' Cousin Toby — my 
 fortunes having cast me on your niece ! ' How grandly sustained is 
 all this, and how naturally it leads to all the conclusions he so easily 
 derives from the forged letter ! It is meant for him beyond a ques- 
 tion. His lady loves him ; and when she says she would thrust 
 greatness upon him, it is not more a proof of her love than it is of 
 his desert. ' Thy fates open their hands, let thy blood and spirit 
 embrace them ; ' and how in keeping with this sense of merit is his 
 exasperation at his imprisonment ! His wounded vanity stung to the 
 quick annihilates all reverence. He comes to his lady in a fury, and 
 almost demands from her an apology. Well associated with this 
 conception is that trio of comic roysterers, who alone would have 
 given to this comedy an imperishable distinction. How wonderful is 
 their individuality, and how irresistible their union. What substance 
 and shadow for instance are Sir Toby and Sir Andrew ! — the hearty 
 Bacchanalian running over quite as much with love of jollity as 
 drink ; and the shred of manhood his companion, who, worshipping 
 him as his exemplar, drinks and fights at his bidding till he gets 
 beaten into reason. How perfect is the contrast between the excess 
 of force and the want of it ; the mad uproar of the one and the 
 timorous ambition of the other ; and how admirably contrasts with 
 both the shrewd humour of the Clown, who, whilst partaking in their 
 revel, can keep clear of its fruits ! The Clown or Fool of The Twelfth 
 Kight well sustains his historic dignity. He is the true wit of the 
 company ; the privileged good sense, who assumes the mask of folly 
 in order to warrant a reproof, and whose gibes delight the peasant 
 wliile they fail to gall the master. But the Clown of The Twelfth 
 Kight has even more distinction. He is the merriest of spirits. He 
 goes through the house singing. He has such an appetite for fun, 
 that, be it practical or mental, nothing comes amiss to him. Whether 
 he engage in a word-combat, or join in a midnight revel, or sliare in 
 a plot against the chamberlain, he is ready for it all, with the same 
 abundant gusto. He is the prince of Shakespeare's fools. Even 
 Touchstone is not so witty, with all his greater reputation ; which, 
 however, may l)e explained by his having all his play to himself. In 
 the ' Forest of Ardennes ' there is no Sir Toby and no INIalvolio. 
 And as if all this wealth of humour were not enough lo stcjck a 
 comedy, we have Fabian and Maria, with all their pleasantry and 
 shrewdness. What an extraordinary group of servants ! — when did 
 ever poet before conjure up such a merry houseludd] The acting of 
 this ])lay througliout we can scarcely speak of Init in terms wliich 
 would seem to be exaggerated. Whilbt some portions have a merit 
 
 M
 
 162 LIFE-WOE K OF PHELPS. 
 
 ■which we have never seen surpassed, the general representation has 
 that level amount of excellence which has won for this theatre its 
 long and well-deserved distinction. The Malvolio of Mr. Phelps is 
 one of the most signal of his successes. It is his highest effort in 
 Shakespearean comedy, and beyond all comparison the greatest per- 
 formance of this character that has been witnessed in our time. The 
 very best that we have seen, not even excepting William Farren's, 
 was poor and meagre by the side of it. Something, perhaps, he owes 
 to the natural gravity of his manner, deepening at times to a formality, 
 which a certain amount of humour could manage to expand into the 
 happiest illustration of a high sense of self-esteem ; but still, manner 
 is not conception. It is but material in the hands of art, and the 
 most perfect form only makes more necessary the perfect spirit that 
 should inspire it. There is a sort of frozen calm about his notion of 
 Malvolio, a solidified presumption, that conveys the grandest sense 
 of his elevated consciousness. He is as little to be tliawed by 
 courtesy as he is to be shattered by collision. He sails about as a 
 sort of iceberg, towering over spray and tumult. His lady is the only 
 sun that has power to dissolve him. There is condescension in all he 
 does. His vision of his future seems to suppose a crowd of listeners 
 whom he will oblige with the particulars. His acceptance of his 
 lady's love is quite as approving as it is grateful. He is her man, and 
 she is wise in having him ; and when, to please her, he agrees to 
 smile, it is plain he feels he is rewarding her. The smile itself was 
 quite a study. What a gleam from a November sky ! A face that 
 finely discriminated the amount of light it should distribute, that 
 kept its clouds for his inferiors — (' the demure travel of regard ') — a 
 sort of haze for kinsman Toby, whilst its beams, as became a gentle- 
 man, were treasured for his lady. To all lovers of good acting we 
 commend this great performance. Second to it only at all points was 
 the Sir Toby of Mr. Ray. Here again was an interpretation Avhich 
 we had never enjoyed before. Thoroughly Shakespearean in spirit, 
 its feeling saved its treatment from all impoverishment of excess. It 
 had vigour without uproar, and enjoyment without burlesque. In 
 this respect we could not but feel how superior it was to Bartley's, 
 whose over-emphasis in everything agreed so little with his sound 
 conceptions. Mr. Eay has been known for many years as one of our 
 most genuine comedians, and how it is his fortunes have answered so 
 sliglitly to his indisputable merits no one seems able to explain. The 
 Viola of Mrs. Charles Young may be characterized in a few words. 
 It is almost a reproduction of the Viola of Ellen Tree, who for so 
 many years made it her own, and by a performance so enchanting 
 that it has become to us its standard. INlrs. Young certainly imparts 
 to it rather a deeper tinge of sadness, which conduces to its interest 
 but detracts from its relief. Still she brings before us all her pre- 
 cursor's touching sensibility, her soft poetic grace — and can we praise 
 her more ? The Sir Andrew of ]\Ir. Marston rather startled us, we 
 confess, the character is so opposed to what we are accustomed to
 
 FOURTEENTH SEASON", 1857—1858. 163 
 
 connect him Tvith — the genial impersonation of manhood and good 
 sense. Still, clever and conscientious in everything he does, his just 
 design made amends for many material obstructions. The only excep- 
 tional performance was that of Mr. Chester, whose Clown wanted the 
 force and also the enjoyment of this prince of jesters. This defect, 
 however, was gi^eatly balanced by the spirit and hilarity of Miss Travers 
 and Mr. Belford — (Mr. Belford should have played Sir Andrew) — 
 whose Maria and Fabian were as good as they could be. We must 
 not close this account without referring to the attractive Duke of Mr. 
 Eobinson — a character, oddly enough, that used to be allotted to 
 old men — and the stately grace and melodious voice of Miss Atkin- 
 son as Olivia, a young lady who bids fair to win fortune in the 
 future." 
 
 On 18th February The Two Gentlemen of Verona was pro- 
 duced, but Phelps did not play iu this piece. 
 
 Nothing new was produced afterwards during this season, and 
 it closed with Money and Nicholas Flam, for his benefit. 
 
 1857—1858. 
 
 The fourteenth season commenced early in September, 1857, 
 with Hamlet, followed by The Hunchback, Money, and Cymbe- 
 line ; and on the 30th of that month he produced Shakespeare's 
 Love's Labour's Lost, on which Professor Morley wrote iu the 
 
 Examiner : — 
 
 " Love's Labour's Lost — The Comedy of Leisure — ought to be accept- 
 able as a relief to busy men in anxious times. It has been observed 
 that there is -only one morsel of business in the whole play, and that 
 is mentioned to be postponed till to-morrow. The play as now acted 
 at Sadler's Wells runs daintily and pleasantly ; they err who see in 
 it only a caricature of Eui)liuism. Euphuism, when the comedy ap- 
 jieared, was a language of compliment congenial to the temper of 
 the times, and in many of its forms, while it was not less absurd than 
 the tone of compliment conventional in our own day, it was a great 
 deal wittier and wiser. There was room for wit in the invention of 
 conceits, and an amusing ingenuity in their extravagance. 
 
 ' Thou sliiii'st in every tear that 1 do weep ; 
 No drop but as a coach doth carry thee.' 
 
 " Sliakespeare undoubtedly took ])leasure in this way of frolic with 
 the wit ; it is a form of fancy, and over the whole range of fancy ho 
 was luid. Pleasant euphuisms find their way even into his graver 
 
 M 2
 
 164 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 plays, and in this play, wliicli he devoted to chasing of conceit through 
 all its forms, the most poetical and the most prosy, it is manifest that 
 he not only heartily enjoyed the sport himself, but that it must have 
 given special pleasure to the men of his own day. He laughed no 
 doubt at the hollowness of all conceits, and represented them as 
 labour lost ; his sharpest satire being expressed in the part of Don 
 Adriano de Armado, a fantastical Spaniard. This is the part assumed 
 at Sadler's Wells by Mr. Phelps. 
 
 "It has a certain general resemblance to his Malvolio, inasmuch as 
 these are both fantastical and f(jolish men ; but Mr. Phelps defines 
 clearly the essential difference between the two. One was a substantial 
 and not ignorant steward, covering with aflectations a substantial ambi- 
 tion to become the husband of his rich and beautiful mistress, and to 
 be a lord. The other is a man who carries all his bravery outside. 
 He talks conceitedly of love, and in his soul carries enshrined the 
 image of a country drab, its best ideal. He affects finery of speech, 
 and is so utterly destitute of ideas, that to count three he must depend 
 upon the help of a child who is his servant, and his master in all 
 passages of wit. He carries a brave outside of clothes, but cannot 
 fight in his shirt, because, as he is driven to admit, ' the naked truth 
 of it is I have no shirt.' This is the view of his character to which 
 Mr. Phelps gives prominence by many a clever touch, such as the 
 empty drawl on the word love, whenever Armado uses it, or the 
 lumbering helplessness of wit displayed by the great Spaniard when 
 magnificently and heavily conversing Avith the tiny INIoth, in which 
 part little Miss Eose "Williams has been taught to bring out very 
 perfectly some telling points. 
 
 " We must not part from the play without praising the Biron of 
 Mr. Henry Marston ; the clever rendering of the conceits of the 
 Schoolmaster and Curate by Mr. Williams and. Mr. C. Fenton ; and 
 the Ferdinand of Mr. F. Eobinson. Mrs. Charles Young — Avho is 
 new to London, and has, during the last few weeks, taken honours at 
 Sadler's Wells in two or three characters — looked and spoke like a 
 lady, as Princess of France, and Miss Fitzpatrick did fair justice to 
 her talent as the laughing Eosaline." 
 
 John Oxeuford in the Times also wrote as follows : — 
 
 Sadler's Wells. 
 
 " Love's Labour's Lost, a comedy which we believe lay untouched 
 by the hand of theatrical manager from the time of the closing of 
 the theatres by the Puritans till the opening of Covent Garden by 
 Madame Vestris, who chose it to inaugurate her rule, and which 
 since that period has been kept aloof from every stage — Love's 
 Labour's Lost was produced last night at Sadler's Wells with a 
 display of picturesque beauty and completeness of detail in every 
 respect that must have surpassed the expectations even of those who
 
 FOURTEENTH SEASON, 1857—1858. 165 
 
 are aware what Mr. Phelps can do when he sets about reviving the 
 piece that he designs for the curiosity of the season. 
 
 " The readers of Shakespeare need not be informed that the interest 
 taken in this very primitive play is chiefly of the literary kind, and 
 that in all the elements that usually make a drama a cause of excite- 
 ment it is singularly deficient. The Shakespearean student may 
 love to see Beatrice and Benedick foreshadowed by Eosaline and 
 Biron, or the play of the clowns in ]\Iidsunimer Kight's Dream pire- 
 dicted by the masque of the Nine Worthies, and may cheerfully 
 welcome the ' fantastical Spaniard ' as the type of the so-called 
 Euphuism, which became a transient fashion in the Elizabethan age. 
 But to the ordinary reader or spectator, who, apart from all consider- 
 ations of the sort, judges of Love's Labour's Lost, as a play of the 
 usual stamp, the want of definite purpose, the abundance of obsolete 
 pleasantries that are bandied about, and the avowedly unsatisfactory 
 nature of the conclusion, will appear not a little perplexing. A 
 number of quaint figures, some graceful, others grotesque, have flitted 
 along, working sedulously at the elaboration of trifles, and arriving 
 at no result. 
 
 " Mr. Phelps has taken this difficult subject in hand with a keen 
 eye to its capabilities. In the first place it can be treated so as to 
 present a charming picture of a medieval Court, resting beneath the 
 shade of the greenwood tree, and ]:)y the side of the brook, from the 
 cares and pomps connected with stately domiciles. This side he 
 has seized, and the scenery, beautifully painted by Mr. C. S. James, 
 the costumes and the groupings, all carry us back to that atmosphere 
 of sylvan aristocracy of which we may read at large in the Arcadia 
 of Sir Philip Sydney. A more happy combination of the Court and 
 the landscape could not be presented than in the series of sparkling 
 pidtures that follow each other on the stage of Sadler's Wells. 
 
 " In the second place, although there is not one great part in Love's 
 Labour's Lost, it is a piece over which a great deal of good acting 
 may be diffused, for even the smallest parts are marked characters, 
 and some of them very strongly and very strangely defined. Here, 
 too, Mr. Phelps has shown the excellence of his generalship. The 
 list of dramatis 2^erson<B was formidable in length, but he has so well 
 applied the talent of his company that there is not a single weakly 
 acted part. For himself he has taken the ' fantastical Spaniard,' 
 and made of him one of his choicest comic impersonations. The 
 Spanish head, the manner of dealing with the euphuistic phrase- 
 ology, the artificial drawl, the complacent good humour that tolerates 
 and even encourages the impertinences of the page, make up an 
 entirely fresh creation, totally distiiict from the fops of stage con- 
 vention, however it may resemble them in moral attributes. Holo- 
 femes, the schoolmaster, a fop of the jx'dantic sort, as ('xco]iti<iii;il 
 in his way as Don Adriano, is most carefully and naturally rendered 
 by Mr. Williams, who happily combines the scholastic sensitiveness 
 with a fund of internal good nature. The line, ^hone for bene:
 
 166 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 Piiscian a little scratched ; 'twill serve,' he gives -with marvellous 
 effect, showing at once the magnitude of the crime committed by 
 the ignorant curate and his own magnanimity in passing it over. 
 Mr, Lewis Ball, who is always at home in Shakespearean clowns, is 
 exactly fitted with Costard, and Dull, the constable, is wrought up 
 to the highest degree of inanity by Mr. Meagreson. The Httle boy 
 Moth, played by Miss Eose Williams, is the most serviceable adjunct 
 to the stately Spaniard, the nicely balanced phrases of Mr. Phelps 
 being most ludicrously contrasted by the pert speeches of the boy, 
 while the figures of the two speakers stand as bodily types of formal 
 coxcombry and mother wit. Turning to the courtly personages, we 
 find Mr. H. Marston as Biron displaying a knowledge of Elizabethan 
 gallantry and vivacity that is generally becoming obsolete, Mr. F. 
 Eobinson looking most comely as the King, Mrs. Charles Young 
 speaking most judiciously and unaffectedly as the Princess of France, 
 Miss Fitzpatrick sparkling forth as Eosahne, and the whole glittering 
 train worthily closed by Mr. J. "W. Eay, as the facetious veteran of 
 the Court, Boyet. Earely have so many parts been so well played." 
 
 On 17th October Othello was again done, and on 21st 
 October As You Like It, for the purpose of introducing Mrs. 
 Charles Young in a second and more prominent Shakespearean 
 character, viz. Rosalind, which she played charmingly. This 
 lady had already made a very successful d6htt as Julia in The 
 Hunchback, to our thinking the best we had had since Miss 
 Laura Addison's. 
 
 Phelps's Jaques was, as it always was, quaint and dry, and pro- 
 duced many a peal of laughter, whilst his delivery of " All the 
 world's a stage," and "A fool, a fool ! I met a fool i' the forest," 
 brought down prolonged applause. Mr. Frederick Robinson 
 was Orlando; and Lewis Ball, the Prince of Shakespearean 
 clowns. Touchstone. 
 
 That piece was followed by Hamlet, and afterwards The 
 Merchant of Venice, in which Mrs. Young played Portia. 
 
 On the 4th November Colman and Garrick's comedy of The 
 Clandestine Marriage was the novelty produced, he assuming 
 for the first time the elder Farren's great part of Lord Ogleby, 
 which Garrick wrote for himself but never acted. King, the 
 original Sir Peter Teazle, was also the original Lord Ogleby. 
 Phelps's assumption of the character of the old d6haucM was, 
 in our opinion, superior even to Farren's in some parts, and he 
 did not descend to the mistake on that undeniably great actor's 
 part of resorting to tricks for effect, one of which was to put
 
 FOURTEENTH SEASON, 1857—1858. 167 
 
 his hair in curl-papers. It was a master-piece of high comedy, 
 and to show what one of the best judges of acting then 
 living thought of it, we insert a criticism by F. G. TomUns, 
 from the Morning Advertiser of the following day, on the 
 production : — 
 
 Sadler's "Wells. 
 
 " It has been the custom of Mr. Phelps to produce each season 
 some one or two higlily-illustrated revivals, and to appear in a new 
 leading character in comedy. The new part Mr. Phelps has this 
 year chosen to give, with all the effects of the profoundest study 
 and the nicest art. is Lord Ogleby, and consequently the comedy of 
 The Clandestine Marriage was last night produced in full perfection. 
 The chief interest on such an occasion is the novel portraiture of a 
 celebrated dramatic character by this versatile comedian, and there- 
 fore, notwithstanding the excellence of the entire performance, we 
 must believe that the pruicipal object of the very large audience was 
 to see how the personator of Hamlet and the heroes of Shakespeare 
 would enact the old debauch e, whose course of sensuality has not 
 quite obliterated his feelings as a gentleman, nor entirely destroyed 
 the delicacy of a man of taste. 
 
 " The wonder of such a performance has been abated by Mr. 
 Phelps's performances, in a matchless manner, of Bottom the Weaver, 
 Falstaff , Sir Archy Macsarcasm, and Sir Peter Teazle ; and such 
 characterizations have shown him to be the truest actor of his age. 
 To personate with the versatility of a Proteus totally contrary cha- 
 racters — heroes and cowards, the tragic and the comic — is to show 
 the possession of a genuine histrionic genius : and this Mr. Phelps 
 has done in a manner unequalled in our time, and which is only 
 paralleled in the history of the stage, by Garrick and Henderson. 
 
 " The conception of Lord Ogleby is admirable, and is executed 
 with the nicest judgment, for just so much truth and feeling are 
 thrown into it as the sketchy nature of the part and the comedy 
 will permit. The cadaverous resuscitation of the emaciated old rake 
 by artificial stimulants is indicated, and the revoltingness of age 
 aping youth is sufficiently manifested, without interfering with our 
 sense of the ridiculous, or allowing the portrait to deepen into actual 
 hideousness until it becomes serious. The bright lights of the picture 
 are brought out in the strongest way by the actor, and the passion 
 for the i)eautiful, the lingering desire to enjoy the ecstatic joys of 
 youtli, and the real touches of feeling that relieve tlie part were 
 admirably rendered. The physical miseries of the earlier portion 
 were cleverly, because comically portrayed ; but the great demon- 
 stration was made in the hjurth act, where the tindery old man, 
 still bearing in his brain the ideas of youth, beauty, and love, 
 imagines the fascinations of his prime still remain to him. This 
 was rendered so truly that one almost forgave the hallucination,
 
 168 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS, 
 
 although its absurdity was apparent. There "was a remnant of 
 chivah-y in the fervent vanity that, though it did not lessen the 
 folly, gave it an air of taste and reality that redeemed it from actual 
 abhorrence. 
 
 " The perfection of the self-delusion was completely shown, and 
 worked up to a climax that was extremely effective, and which produced 
 long and loud applause, and a call at the end of the act. All the 
 by-play — the arrogant petulance with the cringing Canton, the ill- 
 subdued hauteur with the moneyed Cit, the repulsive and ceremonious 
 politeness to Mrs. Heidelberg and Miss Stirling, and the innate pride 
 of rank, were brought out with the force which this actor knows 
 how to give to every suggestion of his author. As a new portraiture 
 it may be considered as a new triumph, and undoubtedly will be 
 as popular as the other eccentric and comic characters this actor, here- 
 tofore considered only as a tragedian, has so successfully portrayed. 
 
 " The cast is in every way excellent, comprising Mr. Henry 
 Marston, as Sir John Melville ; Mr. Ray, as Stirhng ; Mr. F. 
 Robinson, Young Lovewell ; Brush, Mr. Eelf ord ; Canton, Mr. 
 "Williams ; Mrs. Heidelberg, Mrs. H. Marston (who Avas welcomed, 
 on her return from the Haymarket, in the warmest manner) ; Miss 
 Stirling, Miss Fitzpatrick ; Fanny, Mrs. C. Young ; Betty, Miss Eliza 
 Travers ; and the Chambermaid, Miss Caroline Parkes. It would 
 occupy too much space at this late hour to particularize the excellence 
 of each performer, and it must suffice to say that the acting of each, 
 from the highest to the lowest, deserves especial notice. In con- 
 sequence of this perfection in all its parts the entire comedy went 
 admirably, and will become extremely popular, and delight that 
 large portion of the public which still desires to see the standard 
 works of our drama adequately rendered." 
 
 The entire play was magnificently performed, and as perfectly 
 in every character as it had been for thirty years previously, and 
 this we say with a vivid recollection of not only Farren, but 
 Leigh Murray, Mrs. Glover, and Mrs. Stirling in the cast. 
 
 On 14th November Macbeth was again produced, followed 
 on the 21st by Cymbeline for Mrs. Charles Young's Imogen, 
 another good performance of that delicate creation. Phelps of 
 course was Leonatus; Marston, lachimo; and Alfred Rayner 
 was Bellarius. 
 
 On 28th The Fatal Dowry was again performed, his Homont 
 and Marston's Charalois producing all the old enthusiasm. 
 
 On 5th December King Lear was again acted, and was played 
 several times during the remainder of the season, with Hamlet, 
 The Merchant of Venice, Othello, Macbetli, As You Like it, 
 The Clandestine Marriage, Cymbeline, Love's Labour's Lost, The
 
 FOURTEENTH SEASON, 1857—1858. 169 
 
 Merry Wives of Windsor, The Patrician's Daughter, The Rivals, 
 The Love Chase, A New Way to Pay Old Debts, Jealous Wife, 
 School for Scandal, &c., &c., which were played to the end 
 of the season. 
 
 On the 19th January, 1858, in about the middle of the season, 
 he produced, as has already been intimated, Macbeth at Her 
 Majesty's Theatre. It was the first of a series of festival 
 performances in honour of the nuptials of Her Royal Highness 
 the Princess Royal of England with His Royal Highness the 
 Crown Prince of Prussia; and in February The Patrician's 
 Daughter was acted, for the first time for some years, Mrs. 
 Young playing Lady Mabel Lynterne, and Phelps, as before, 
 MQrdaunt.* 
 
 On 25th March, for his benefit, he acted Virginius and Young 
 Rapid, and certainly astonished many good judges of acting who 
 were present. One gentleman, a perfect stranger, said to one 
 of the present writers, he could not have believed tliat it was 
 possible for the same man to have played two such opposite 
 characters, much less on the same evening, so finely, as he con- 
 sidered the first was quite equal to Macready's performance of 
 that character, and the second as mercurial as anything he had 
 ever seen at the hands of Charles Matthews. He was an old 
 play-goer, and told the same writer he had seen every actor of 
 note for thirty years. 
 
 * I remember vividly a circumstance which occurred at one of tlie first 
 three performances when sitting in a private box over tlie stage witli the 
 author. Dr. Westland Marston, and his wife, viz. after one of Mordaunt's 
 fine speeches, which brought down tremendous apphiuse, a stalwart fellow 
 in tlie gallery with stentorian lungs (and who always seemed to be in the 
 gallery of every theatre in London that Mr. Phelps went to) shouted out in 
 broad Devunshire dialect, "Where be Charles Kean now?" which brouglit 
 down thunders of applause, and which continued off and on till the curtain 
 fell — I think the end of the third act — when Mr. Phelps was called before 
 the curtain, and received a perfect ovation, the entire audience rising. 
 The otlier two acts went in the same way. I remember Dr.'Marston and 
 myself exclianging glances when the gallery auditor shouted out, and his 
 stating to me a little further on, " Phelps is playing Mordaunt siilendidly, 
 and certainly better than when he first acted it; he did not f/ia'^e satisfy 
 me then."- W. M. P.
 
 170 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 1858—1859. 
 
 The fifteenth season commenced on 11th September, 1858, 
 ■with Othello, followed by The Jealous Wife and Richelieu ; and 
 on 22nd The Provoked Husband was produced, for the first time 
 for a considerable period. On this performance the following from 
 the pen of Professor Morley may be acceptable to the reader : — 
 
 " At Sadler's Wells the play of The Provoked Husband has been 
 produced this week, and here again Ave have had an example of the 
 finish with which a company, well-trained to work together, may 
 present a play demanding no little variety of talent. Sadler's Wells 
 has a reputation for its acting of old comedy as well earned as its 
 credit for fidelity to Shakespeare. The Provoked Husband is an 
 excellent example of the merit upon which this reputation has been 
 based. Mr. Phelps here presents a play, not because it provides a 
 notable part for himself, but because it brings out all the forces of his 
 company. Two renderings of the part of Lord Townley are possible : 
 one, which is not the one selected, contains a display of restless 
 uneasiness, breaking out here and there into passion ; an effective and 
 therefore a tempting version. In the other rendering, which Mr. 
 Phelps has chosen. Lord Townley appears Avith all the dignity and 
 self-command proper to a nobleman of the old school, Avho had a 
 warm, strong heart, but had learnt how to contain his passions. The 
 repose and dignity thus given to the figure of the husband serves 
 as an admirable foil to the wife's restless levity ; just as the worldly 
 sense of Manly in the play is a foil to the folly of the Wronghead 
 family. We are disposed to think too that this reading of the part of 
 Lord Townley gives a solidity of light and shade to the whole play, 
 which would not be derived from the old-fashioned proprieties of 
 courtship between Manly and Lady Grace. And while Mr. Phelps 
 denies himself all but the subtler indications of the feelings by which 
 he, as a stately lord, is not to be compelled into loud bodily passion, 
 he adds brilliancy to the part of Lord Townley. If the play has been 
 produced for the special increase of any one artist's reputation, it has 
 been produced for the credit of Mrs. Charles Young. This lady won 
 her first laurels at Sadler's Wells, and is provided there with the best 
 opportunities of triumph. In The Provoked Husband she is as truly 
 the high-bred lady as her husband is the high-bred lord, but she is the 
 lady who floats lightly on the surface of society, Avhile her sedate lord 
 is one of its foundations. Lady Townley is, perhaps, the part in which 
 Mrs. Charles Young has found herself most free to exercise her skill. 
 Mr. Marston, always a judicious actor, did his duty by the part of 
 Manly. The other parts in the play are all well filled."
 
 FIFTEENTH SEASON, 1858—1859. 171 
 
 Ou 25th September The Winter's Tale was again produced, 
 and Hamlet on 2nd October; on the 9th, Werner, and on 13th, 
 The Hypocrite, in which Phelps appeared, for the first time, as 
 Dr. Cantwell. The two following criticisms from the pens of 
 F. G. Tomlins in the Morning Advertiser, and Bayle Bernard 
 in the Weekly Disioateh respectively, refer to it : — 
 
 Sadler's Wells. 
 
 '* During the long period that Mr. Phelps has had the dramatic 
 management of this theatre, he has every season given a new study of 
 some peculiar and prominent character of the drama. For the last few 
 years he has given portraitures alike from comedy as tragedy ; and his 
 Sir Pertinax Macsycophant and Bottom the Weaver stand out as 
 finely as his Lear and Macbeth, This extensive reach of character 
 gives him full title to rank with the very highest of his art, and shows 
 that he is a genuine actor, having a complete power of varied person- 
 ation, a faculty by no means so common as might be supposed, seeing 
 that the geniune art of acting is entirely based upon it. 
 
 " Last night the by no means excellent play of The Hypocrite Avas 
 produced, that Mr. Phelps might add to his portraitures that of the 
 renowned Dr. Cantwell. In this character the elder portion of the 
 present generation can recollect Dowton, and in later times, Farren ; 
 but Mr. Phelps's portraiture differs from both, and is entirely original. 
 There long lingered on the stage the tone and canting style of the 
 original, who was improperly supposed to have sat for the delineation ; 
 but this Mr. Phelps very judiciously abandons, and so far from 
 mimicking the former tone of the conventicle, he plays it as a consum- 
 mate humbug, who happens to have taken the formula of religion to 
 carry on his impostures and villainies. Such a villain ! He might 
 have been a soldier, like lago, or a trader, like Shylock. 
 
 " Taken in this view, it is a consummate piece of acting, in which 
 not a motion, a tone, or a glance is made that does not help to express 
 the base and Jesuitical nature of the wretch. His atlected meekness, 
 his overwhelming appearance of self-denial, his crawling humility, and, 
 at last, his malignant audacity, were given with a master's art, and it 
 is a delineation well worth seeing. Monstrous impudence and con- 
 summate craft have always a degree of humour in them ; and this 
 portion of the vis comica was admirably introduced ; and many Avere 
 the roars of laughter at the audacious readiness with which tlio scoun- 
 drel eluded exposition. As played by Mr. Phelps, tliere is nothing 
 oilensive to the truly pious nund, for there is no mimicking any exist- 
 ing mode of religious utterance. ])r. Cantwell witli him is simply a 
 con.summat»! impostor, who adds to his hypoci-isy iho basest treachmy 
 and ingratitude, and happens to have adopted religiuu as a cloak U) 
 his villainies. 
 
 " The play was altogether well acted, and, of course, completely put
 
 172 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 on the stage. Mrs. Charles Young, as Charlotte, performed the long 
 and elaborated part with great naivete and sprightliness, and Mr. 
 Marston was an elegant and joyous Colonel Lambert. Mr. Charles 
 Younc p-ave Mawworm a touch of ruffianism that was effective, and 
 played it so as to procure the usual amount of laughter ; though it is 
 in reality the objectionable part of the play. Mrs. INIarston was very 
 truthful and clever as old Mrs. Lambert, and Miss Atkinson suffi- 
 ciently demonstrative as the Young Wife. Mr. Eayner, who has 
 considerable power in characters of an heroic kind, seemed quite out 
 of place as Sir John Lambert; nor did Mr. Belford, generally so 
 amusing, shine as Darnley the lover. The house was well attended, 
 and the audience, as usual, deeply attentive and loudly applausive. 
 The grand Shakespeare revival this year is to be Henry V., which is 
 in active preparation." 
 
 « The comedy of The Hypocrite, after a slumber of some years, has 
 been revived by Mr. Phelps, and with a success which promises to 
 render it a lasting member of his repertory. We scarcely need remind 
 our readers that this grand protest of Molik-e against clerical impos- 
 ture has an historical celebrity. Undergoing many changes in its 
 exposure of religious falsehood, and addressed with equal vigour to 
 various phases of fanaticism, it has done good service in the past, and 
 still remains a weapon of undoubted weight and sharpness for employ- 
 ment in the future. We Avish we could indulge the hope that such a 
 need Avas a chimera ; but recent events have made us doubtful. If it 
 be true that the strongest passions are the most liable to abuse, the 
 last year or two have not been wanting in emphatic admonitions. If 
 Molike had to attack his Jesuits, Colley Cibber his Nonjurors, and 
 BickerstafF, still later, his Eanters and Muggletonians, our own day 
 has its Tractarians and its Eomanizing clergy, wlwse influence in the 
 family is quite as much to be dreaded as that of the Cant wells of past 
 ages. It is on this ground we regard this play as a good- dramatic 
 antidote, and a specific, in some respects, for the St. Barnabas infec- 
 tion. It is curious to note its vigour when originally prescribed, if it 
 may be measured, as are medicines, by the resistance it encountered. 
 The storm the Tartuffe created it is scarcely possible to conceive. It 
 roused the wrath of all the pulpits, awoke the thunders of the Sorbonne, 
 and laid all its readers or beholders under the ban of excommuni- 
 cation. Moli^re never dreamt of the hornet's nest he was upsetting. 
 ' I had attacked pretenders,' said he, ' of all sorts, and simply excited 
 laughter ; but the moment I touch these gentry, I find I am anathema- 
 tized.' Even the pious Bourdaloue was to be seen in the ranks of^ his 
 antagonists, and a twin eminence, the great Bossuet, in his Maxlmes 
 sur la Comedle, found it necessary to dwell especially on the irrever- 
 ence of Moliere. The illustrious Conde thought his offence capable 
 of a much simpler solution. When Louis XIV. was astonished that 
 people complained of the Tartuffe, whilst they flocked with such 
 avidity to see the Scaramouche Hermite, 'AVhy, Sire,' replied the
 
 FIFTEEXTH SEASON, 1858—1859. 173 
 
 Prince, ' the Scaramouche merely attacks such things as Heaven and 
 religion, for ■which the Jesuits care little; whilst Moliere, you perceive, 
 attacks these gentlemen themselves.' It is also curious to recall a 
 fact in connection -with the original of the Tartuffe. This was a 
 certain Abbe de la Eoquette, according to good authorities, a friend of 
 the Duchesse de Longueville, who became afterwards Bishop of Autun. 
 "When, some century or so subsequently, Talleyrand succeeded both to 
 the bishopric and to the great traits of his predecessor, the elder 
 Chenier, in an epigram which delighted the Parisians, showed that the 
 political Tartuffe had far exceeded the religious one. The second 
 version of this play was as great a triumph as the first. When the 
 accession of the House of Hanover disturbed the sense of ' Divine 
 right ' in the breasts of some half-Catholic divines of the Church of 
 England, their refusal to take the oaths gave them the name of Non- 
 jurors. Their destiny after that was thought to be France and the 
 ' Mother Church ' ; but as many remained in England, and were said 
 to be mixed up in constant Jacobite conspiracies, their name became a 
 synonym of Jesuitry in England, and suggested a lucky notion to the 
 ready wit of Cibber. To transform Tartufte to a Xonjaror, introduce 
 him to an English family, and barb the religious satire with political . 
 allusions, was a task that the clever dramatist had no trouble in 
 discharging. The hit w^as something wonderful. It crowded the 
 theatre nightly, and the adapter Avas rewarded both with profit and 
 distinction. The play was looked at in the light of a great party 
 triumph, and it made him — Poet Laureate. It is true it had its ofl'sets. 
 It oljtained him another honour. It was unquestionably the means of 
 his figuring, not long after, as the hero of the Dunciad. Pope's 
 religious feeling may very well be questioned, seeing the company he 
 kept ; but it is very likely he imagined it was in defence of his 
 Catholicism that he winged his last and sharpest dart at the reputa- 
 tion of poor Colley. Another thirty years — and again Moliere was 
 wanted. The great religious revival which had suddenly appeared in 
 England gave rise among the ignorant to many absurd exaggerations, 
 which were not only justly felt to degrade religious dignity, but to 
 serve as an efficient screen for the selfish and designing ; and again the 
 Tartuffe was thought to be the best corrective for the evil, and an 
 expert practitioner, in Bickerstaff", was ready to compound the dose. 
 The Tartuffe then at length l)ecame transformed into The Hypocrite, 
 and in this last metem])sychosis was permanently added to our drama. 
 It is but justice to this play to say it is one of our most perfect 
 adaptations. It possesses merits in regard to England not to be found 
 even in Moliere. Of course, it wants the exquisite verse and higher 
 polish of the original — the elegant gaiety and insight which are so 
 special to its writer — that union of force ami delicacy in depicting 
 comic passion which led Boileau to think his genius the very rarest of 
 his age. Moliere, we need not say, next to Shakespeare, is the greatest 
 comic poet of the world ; next to Shakespeare and Cervantes, peihaps 
 the greatest comic genius. If less various than Shakespeare, within
 
 174 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 his range he is as profound. He digs as deep, if but in one field — that 
 of elegant society. If the painter of the Court and the salon, rather 
 than our universal nature, he sees types in all he pictures, and beating 
 hearts beneath brocades. StUl Moliere has his defects ; his plays turn 
 upon one trait or passion — avarice, pedantry, or hypocrisy ; he can 
 expand but one idea. He has little incident and less construction ; 
 whilst his denouements are generally the clumsiest imaginable. Nor 
 is Tartuffe his greatest play. It has neither the humour of the 
 Femmes Savantes, the gay audacity of his Don Juan, nor the grandeur, 
 in all respects, of his masterpiece. The Misanthrope. The Hypocrite is 
 not only more active than the original, but it is more various in 
 character ; and in that of Charlotte, especially, is unquestionably 
 superior. Charlotte is as much beyond the meagre drawing of 
 Marianne, as Moliere is beyond the frigid soul of a Eegnard. She is 
 worthy of Moliere himself ; of his Angelique, undoubtedly, if not of 
 his Celimfene. She is one of the happiest legacies of the comic spirit 
 of the past century. She has all the pleasant wilfulness which charac- 
 terizes Cibber, combined with the good breeding which is always to 
 be found in Bickerstaif. The acting of this play was very equal and 
 excellent. The Dr. Cantwell of Mr. Phelps is his last comic acquisi- 
 tion, and we venture to surmise it will not be the least enduring. It 
 is a very original conception, and loses nothing of its force from the 
 minuteness of its finish. We need not remind our elder readers what 
 this character was with Dowton — one of the many that for fifty years 
 he made exclusively his own, and perhaps the one particularly Avhich 
 we thought would leave us with him. Mr. Phelps's is so very differ- 
 ent, and yet so happy a conception, that it only affords another instance 
 of how temperament and genius may place a character with equal 
 justice in the most opposite points of view. The Cantwell of Dowton 
 was one of those oily, smooth-faced, plenteous sons of heaven of which 
 the literature of the last century affords so many types — a good man, 
 Avho had grown substantial from superior peace of mind ; a human 
 goatskin, that had expanded from the ferment of the spirit within it. 
 Mr. Phelps inclines to moisture rather than to substance. His Cant- 
 well is a sniveller — a piece of pious drivel, whose soul, like a ripe plum, 
 with the least pressure exudes and trickles. You see his eyes are as 
 well supplied as if they had a contract Avith the New Eiver. He is 
 an everlasting martyr to the wickedness of those about him ; the saint 
 — his friends describe him — tied to the faggots of bad society. When 
 not in tears he has a drawl of such slow and broken mourufulness 
 that it threatens every moment to give way to a gush. How indica- 
 ative of the sufferer, and how provocative of sympathy ! His face, 
 too, has a fixed dejection, quite in harmony with such endurance ; his 
 jaw a listless dropping, as though incapable of remonstrance ; whilst 
 his constant pressure of his heart, in averment of his sincerity, adopts 
 a form that really looks like an involuntary confession. His lingers 
 spread upon his breast till they resemble the claws of a wild beast. 
 His scene with Lady Lambert was singularly good. The false drawl
 
 FIFTEENTH SEASON, 1858-1859. 175 
 
 with which it opens gradually ceasing as it proceeds, accents deepening 
 unconsciously into tones of real passion, his face kindling and growing 
 plastic, till, in every twitching of his features, and even jerking of his 
 chair, his whole nature stands before you. The scene with Charlotte, 
 respecting the dowry, Avas scarcely less significant, whilst his unmask- 
 ing at the end had a hard and a stern audacity that seemed a natural 
 revulsion — that of a scoundrel who enjoyed his return to open villainy. 
 The Charlotte of Mrs. Young was a worthy accompaniment of this 
 performance. We have seen this lady on no occasion give such 
 evidence of comic genius. Indeed, we have had misgivings whether 
 her sympathies were not wholly serious. She has a pensiveness at 
 times which might warrant such a fancy. But on this occasion Ave 
 were undeceived. Anything more playful or more pointed, more 
 buoyant or more sweetly Avilful, we have not had the pleasure of 
 beholding for some years. It was a very faithful and finished eifort, 
 and served to deepen the conviction Avhich we share with so many 
 others, of the injustice which keeps this lady from a home at the 
 "West End. AYe are aAvare of the fellow injustice — the robbery thereby 
 of this theatre of her services ; but really this is a penalty Mr. Phelps 
 must be content to pay. His theatre is almost the only school of 
 acting in the metropolis, and for some years past we have been accus- 
 tomed to see the birds trained in his nest take wing westward as soon 
 as he had taught them self-sustainment. Mr. Charles Youngis Maw- 
 worm, as we are unable to praise, we will not linger over to condemn, 
 beyond saying it is one of the poorest Ave have ever been doomed to 
 witness — hard, stagey, and traditional, Avithout earnestness or humour. 
 How inferior to his Pistol, which, if somewhat over-acted, had never- 
 theless a true conception ! Mr. and Mrs. H. Marston involve us in the 
 old monotony — every praise is to be accorded to his manly vicAV of the 
 Colonel, and her perfect and at present unrivalled picture of the 
 devotee. We must not omit either to refer to the intelligence and 
 gracefulness of IMiss Atkinson's Young Lady Lambert, the pleasant 
 fidget of Mr. Belford's Darnley (Mr. B. is an actor of great promise), 
 and the true feeling Avhich Mr. Seyton, contrived to throw into so 
 slight a sketch as the disinterested ScAvard. The house Avas well 
 attended, and the play was received throughout Avith an observation 
 and enjoyment Avhicli did all honour to the audience." 
 
 Professor Morley in the Examiner thus described the perfonu- 
 ance : — 
 
 " Our English TartufTe, Bickerstaff's Hypocrite, has been revived at 
 Sadler's Wells witli more than the usual success. It is a bright old 
 comedy, Avith a brisk dialogue, Avell defined and amusing characters, 
 and a hard hit at tlie mean traders in piety, Avhom honest men detest 
 more heartily than any other sort of sinner. Mr. I'helps's Dr. Cant- 
 Avell must rank Avith his Sir Pertinax as a ])articular success ; one of 
 the personations Avhich give strength to the argument of those Avho
 
 176 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 believe tkat his genius for his art is most conspicuous as a comedian. 
 The ' make up ' of the character is wonderfully good : the actor has 
 transformed his face, and a German critic might spend a chapter on 
 discussion of the artist's fine sesthetical treatment of his own nose.* A 
 couple of touches of black paint have given the effect of a true Cant- 
 well pinch to the nostrils. The hypocrite's mouths that he makes in 
 speaking ; the large hand, with its outspread grasping fingers, that he 
 lays upon his heart in protest ; the houndish snuffing of the air with 
 which he scents a frailty in his patron's wife ; the change when he is 
 unmasked to a vulgar brutality of tone that without one touch of cari- 
 cature expresses the lowness of his position among men and beasts ; 
 his coarse, excited triumph, and his miserable collapse when all his 
 schemes have crumbled about his head, and he has not the spirit of a 
 mole to set against the fall of all liis mole-heaps, and the crushing in 
 of all the underground passages he has been mining so industriously, 
 — are a few only of the points that attest the pains bestowed ujDon the 
 study of tliis ])art by an accomplished actor. Mrs. Charles Young 
 adds also a great charm to the acted play by the sparkle and refine- 
 ment of her version of the lively, wilful, and kind-hearted Charlotte. 
 There is no actress now in London who in comedy of this sort can 
 so completely look her part, and at the same time maintain with equal 
 vivacity the stage illusion, without making the spectator conscious of 
 the artifices of the stage. Mr, Charles Young is the Mawworm, and 
 the canting sermon is given by him in the true Bethel manner ; and 
 exquisitely quit^t in its humour is the way in which Mrs. H. Marston, 
 who has been making the most throughout of the part of the sanctified 
 grandmother, here displays the force of habit. Miss Atkinson's Young 
 Lady Lambert Avas a quiet, unobtrusive bit of acting, and Mr. H. 
 !Marston and Mr. Belford, as Charlotte's brother and lover, kept up the 
 good humour of the play with an unflagging spirit. I^ot only were the 
 individual actors equal to their parts, but numerous little concerted 
 effects of grouping and stage management gave great life and spirit to 
 the business of the scene." 
 
 On 23rd October Henry V. was produced again ; on 6th 
 November, The Wife; and on the 11th, Much Ado About 
 Nothing. On the 13th, Macbeth; 17th, School for Scandal; 
 20th, The Bridal ; 27th, Hamlet ; 1st December, The Stranger ; 
 and on 4th, Henry VIII. On 11th December he produced The 
 Wheel of Fortune, playing Penruddock for the first time, and 
 making a great hit in it.^j* 
 
 * He had a marvellous power of changing the appearance of his face by 
 doing very little to it, but he had also a marvellous foundation to work 
 on.— W. M. P. 
 
 t I thought him superior to VandenhofF, whom I had seen perform 
 the character at Drury Lane during Anderson's management. I have no
 
 X 
 
 SIXTEENTH SEASON, 1859-1860. 177 
 
 On 8th January, 1859, The Winter's Tale was again acted^ 
 until 21st, Avith the exception of three performances of The 
 Hypocrite. 
 
 The next fortnight was devoted to Macbeth, The Stranger, 
 Othello, and The Merchant of Venice ; then King John and Julius 
 Caesar were acted for a fortnight, and were followed the next 
 two weeks by Twelfth Night, Hamlet, Richelieu, and Romeo 
 and Juliet. Then for a fortnight, Virginius, Henry VIII., and 
 Man of the World ; Brutus, or the Fall of Tarquin, was done 
 for his benefit on 12th March, the season being wound up with 
 some of the above-mentioned plays. 
 
 1859—1860. 
 
 The sixteenth season commenced with Romeo and Juliet on 
 10th September, Miss Heath from the Princess's making her 
 first appearance here as Juliet ; ]\Ir. F, Robinson was Romeo ; 
 and Mr. Phelps, as usual, Mercutio. Mr. Marston was Friar 
 Laurence, and Mrs. Marston, the Nurse. This piece was after- 
 wards — on 80th November — played at Windsor Castle with the 
 same cast. 
 
 On 14th John Bull was acted, in which he appeared as Job 
 Thornbury for the first time. 
 
 On 17th September King Lear was acted ; 21st, John Bull, 
 and Brutus on 24th ; on 5th October, Romeo and Juliet was 
 again played, and then Hamlet, King Lear, and Lady of Lyons 
 for ten days. 
 
 On the 18th October a new play by Tom Taylor was produced, 
 entitled The Fool's Revenge, which was very successful, and 
 had a long run. On it Professor Morlcy said in the Examiner, 
 speaking of the author : — 
 
 " For Sadler's Wells he has written a play in blank verse, The 
 Fool's Ecvenj,'e, suggested by Le Koi s'Amuse, and Rigoletto. It is, 
 however, really new as to plot, and in fact an original play, well 
 designed and written with all care. A solidity of character is given 
 to the Fool which accords perfectly with the genius of Mr. riiclii.';. 
 
 criticism by ine, but I remember it was very highly .spoken of, aiul iJicw 
 money to the treasury. — W. M. i'.
 
 173 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 While the lips gibe lightly, the hands clutch at the Fool's bauble as if 
 it were a sword. It is the instruruent of his revenge, and the actor 
 tacitly suggests this by the manner of its handling. The dignity and 
 tenderness of Bertuccio's relation as a father with his child, the 
 struggle of his revengeful spirit with the counsels of her simple piety 
 and purity of heart, presently to be folloAved by the ferocity of exultation 
 at what he believes to be the success of his relentless plotting, yield 
 occasion for fine contrasts of dramatic colour. In the last act the 
 Fool's glorying, the baseness of his triumph passing by swift stages, 
 the terror of his doubt, the agony of his despair, employ incessantly 
 the actor's energies." 
 
 Bayle Bernard in the Weekly Dispatch, after speaking of the 
 play, which he did not like, said as follows : — 
 
 Sadler's Wells. 
 
 "We now pass to the pleasanter topic of the admirable acting of 
 this play. The Bertuccio of Mr. Phelps is, without question, one of 
 his most original and unique impersonations. The contrast between 
 the real and assumed nature of the jester, though false, as we have 
 shown in the drama, was recovered to truth in a great degree by the 
 Avonderful art Avhich made so striking the grotesque humour of the 
 one mood and the impressive pathos of the other. The burst of 
 exultation at the close of the second act had a poetry in its passion 
 which only wanted words to do it justice ; but it was reserved for the 
 last scene to afford Mr. Phelps his proper scope, and here we have no 
 hesitation in saying that his acting was the very finest that it has 
 been our good fortune to witness since the great days of Macready. 
 All the changes and expressions which the foiled hunchback is 
 involved in in that highly-wrought catastrophe — the triumph struck 
 down to stupor, the stupor rousing to remorse, and the agony of 
 terror which, forced to mask itself in laughter, chokes and blinds him 
 as he strives to clutch or rush at something which will yet save his 
 soul from blood — is such a masterpiece of acting, so distinct in every 
 trait of it, and yet so harmonized and massive, that we feel it wholly 
 out of our power even to indicate its effect. We must rank next his 
 the also striking exertions of Miss Heath, whose scene of terror with 
 the Duke was one of the most vigorous and natural pictures it was 
 possible to witness. Mr. Marston made the most of the thankless 
 character of the Duke. Mr. Robinson threw much grace into the 
 mere outline of the poet ; whilst Miss Atkinson gave to the Duchess 
 (one of the best additions of oSIr. Taylor) a dignity and vigour that 
 were equally dramatic and historical. We must not conclude without 
 adverting to the great merit of the painting by Mr. C. James, a young 
 artist who is rapidly winning his way to the front rank of scenic 
 painters. His interiors reminded us of Telbin, whilst his ' Square of 
 Faenza by Moonlight ' carried us back — it is not too much to say — to 
 the palmy days of David Roberts."
 
 SIXTEENTH SEASON, 1859—1860. 179 
 
 On 19th November Macbeth was again done, and with 
 The Stranger, Clandestine Marriage, Romeo and Juliet, and 
 The Fool's Revenge, the performances were carried up to 
 Christmas. 
 
 On Boxing Night The Lady of Lyons was acted, and then 
 The Stranger, and Fool's Revenge, until 4th January, 18G0. 
 Then on 5th, Clandestine Marriage, which with Othello, The 
 Fool's Revenge, Merchant of Venice, and Hamlet carried him 
 on for another month; and during the next month, from 4th 
 February to 5th March, King Lear, The Hunchback, Lady of 
 Lyons, Othello, Macbeth, A New Way to Pay Old Debts, The 
 Gamester, and Henry VIII. were acted. 
 
 During March, and until the close of the season, Richelieu, 
 School for Scandal, Werner, and Twelfth Night were acted. On 
 l7th ]\Iarch he played Coriolanus for his own benefit. 
 
 During the summer of this year he made an engagement 
 with Mr. Harris, the manager of the Princess's Theatre, to 
 appear there in a round of his favourite characters. 
 
 If we are not mistaken, he opened there in the middle of 
 April in Sir Pertinax Macsycophant, for the following appeared 
 in the Examiner of the 14th of that month : — 
 
 "In the interval between two of his dramatic seasons at Islinston, 
 Mr. Phelps, engaged at the Princess's Theatre, has been representing 
 cue of his favourite comedy parts, Sir Pertinax IMaesycopliant in 
 The Man of the World. Sir Pertinax Macsycophant, phant in 
 flattery and hard in purpose, determined to grasp worldly success, and 
 utterly insensible to degradation that is not accompanied with loss of 
 worldly iniluence, is represented by the actor even in what must pass 
 for the repose of his face when on the stage. The features are cun- 
 ningly hardened, the keen eyes, and a certain slight l)ut frequent turn 
 of the head, with its ready ear and iixed averted face, shrewdly suggest 
 an intent, secret watchfulness. Even when his schemes of family 
 aggrandizement are being foiled by love and honour in his son, wlien 
 the depths of his miserable passion have been stirred into an almost 
 tragic agony of meanness, he conunonly abides by the same lialdt of 
 listening with open ear, keen watchful eye, and face im])enetrable. 
 Mean, selHsh Avorldliness, utterly dead to the perception of a man's 
 honour and dishonour, is all that has to be represented ; but of tliis 
 the actor seizes the wiiole range. If the house roars with laughter at 
 the littleness of the passion, it has also to note with a more silent and 
 more powerful emotion its intensity." 
 
 This piece was followed by The Fool's Revenge, and then 
 
 N 2
 
 180 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 Othello, on which latter we extract the following from the 
 Examiner of 19th May : — 
 
 Princess's Theatre. 
 
 " The Othello of Mr. Phelps in several respects varies from tradi- 
 tion ; in a few respects, perhaps, it departs from the expression 
 Shakespeare had in mind. Nevertheless, it is throughout consistent, 
 and it takes a steadfast hold upon the sympathies. One of the chief 
 merits of Mr. Phelps as an actor of Shakespeare is, that he studies 
 each play as a poem, avoids all temptation to mere personal display, 
 and directs attention to the poet Avhom he is illustrating rather than 
 to himself as the illusti-ator. He has not the wonderful power that 
 was possessed hy Edmund Kean or Madame Rachel, and that is 
 possessed also to some degree by Madame Eistori, of vivifying certain 
 words or phrases with a thrill of genius that surprises suddenly the 
 hearts of all who hear.* Edmund Kean varied in his exercise of this 
 wonderful faculty. Sometimes when he played Othello, he would 
 lift into a terrific portent of the future, roll forth as the boding 
 thunder before a wild storm, the words to Cassio, ' But never more 
 be officer of mine ; ' often there was a strange magic in his tone at 
 the words, ' All my fond love thus I do blow to heaven ; ' but every 
 description left to us of his entire performance shows that, as a whole 
 conception, his Othello was more fitful in passion than consisted fairly 
 with the ' noble nature ' of the Moor. Mr. Phelps, depending little 
 upon those flashes of expressive power which are the highest gift 
 of nature to the actor, relies chiefly on study, taste, and a right sense 
 of poetry. He forms to himself some clear and consistent view of 
 each character he personates considered as a whole, and fills it up 
 throughout by his acting in exact accordance with the outline he has 
 
 traced, t 
 
 " Othello is described by his enemy as of ' a constant, loving, noble 
 nature,' and before his jealousy Mr. Phelps shows this in him under 
 the calm and regal bearing of a hero who is master of himself. 
 In the third act this nature is represented battling with a fierce, 
 suppressed emotion. The husband's torture is his own ; the manly 
 effort to repress open expression of his agony is to Mr. Phelps, as 
 it has been to other actors, the great source of pathos, in this act. 
 But Mr. Phelps holds that it Avas in Othello's nature to maintain 
 this struggle against the weakness of loud outward complaint even 
 to the last. His passion, painfully repressed, seldom breaks bounds 
 
 * I consider Prof-essor Morley slightly in error in this respect, for his 
 earlier critics all stated that he did possess that power, but did not often 
 exhibit it, as it was against his creed to do so, especially at his author's 
 expense. — W. M. P. 
 
 f Here he has hit it exactly, as if he had been told by Mr. Phelps the 
 principle upon which he invariably acted. — W. M. P.
 
 SIXTEENTH SEASON, 1859—1860. 181 
 
 and passes into open fury. It does so, in the third act only, as the 
 thought rises suddenly against lago that he may be but a slanderer, 
 or when some vivid suggestion of the defilement of Desdemona -WTings 
 his heart. In the scenes with Desdemona herself, still the suppressed 
 agony breaks into rage but fitfully through fierce struggle for self- 
 control, and only when her innocent words are made, by the poison 
 of the slander, to suggest that she is altogether vile. Resolved upon 
 her death, and that of Cassio, Othello, as read by Mr. Phelps, 
 maintains in the murder scene the dignity of one persuaded that 
 he executes an act of justice. When undeceived too late he does 
 not break into a fury of despair, but stands with downcast head, 
 stricken and dejected. When he hangs groaning over his dead wife 
 he does not accept as a cue to his behaviour Emilia's counsel, ' I^ay, 
 lay thee down and roar,' but follows, here and throughout the scene, 
 Othello's ovm description of himself, as 
 
 ' One whose subdued eyes, 
 Albeit unused to the melting mood, 
 Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees 
 Their medicinal gum.' 
 
 " With a cry of tenderness he dies upon his way to Desdemona's 
 couch, and falls with his arm strained towards her. 
 
 ' ' The curtain falls upon the death of an Othello who had all the 
 dignity of nature, and obtained all the unbroken sympathy which 
 Shakespeare meant to attach to the character. The reading has been 
 true in the main, and poetical in detail ; there is also, as we have 
 seen, text to show for it. We think, however, that in the last scenes 
 Shakespeare put into the mouth of Othello passages for which he 
 expected from the actors of his day a boisterous delivery. Edmund 
 Kean is said to have here flung even the words of evidently quiet 
 pathos into passion violent and loud. Mr. Phelps takes the opposite 
 extreme, and avoids all noisy demonstration of Othello's suffering." 
 
 After these pieces he appeared in Richelieu, Falstaff iu The 
 Merry Wives of Windsor, and Hamlet, on which we further 
 extract from the Examiner of 23rd June the following : — 
 
 Princess's Theatre. 
 
 " We have been very glad to observe the thoroughness of the success 
 of ]\rr. Phelps in Oxford Street— a success all the more genuine for 
 having Ijeen gradual. At first there were thin houses, but as the new 
 public warmed into acquaintance Avith an actor able to re})resent 
 successively, and always admirably, characters so unlike each other as 
 tho.se of .Sir Pertinax Macsycopliant, Othello, Kichelieu, Hamlet, anil 
 Falstaff, the interest in his performances has reached a point most 
 satisfactory to all who estimate at its true and high vahu; tlu! i)n)f('s- 
 fiion of tlie actor. For some wtseks past Mr. Phelps has been pcrlbrm- 
 ing to full boxes and stalls, and to a crowded pit, while the audience
 
 182 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 of the Princess's Theatre is very satisfactory. Several of the chief 
 members of the Sadler's Wells company add their strength to that of 
 the house, and Mr. Harris's own company is an effective one. Mr. 
 Phelps is now enacting Falstaff, whom, as we have observed when 
 speaking of his acting of this part at Sadler's Wells, he takes care to 
 represent as more than a mere oily sensualist ; he is a gentleman by 
 social rank, and a wit whom, as he takes pride in the sharpness of his 
 intellect, it is all the more pleasant for the merry wives of Windsor 
 to outwit. The play is exceedingly well mounted on the stage, and 
 throughout pleasantly acted. 
 
 " Mr. Phelps's Ptichelieu is one of the parts in which he is most 
 faultless ; and in reference both to this play and to the Hamlet it would 
 be injustice to omit recognition of the growing interest taken by the 
 audiences in the intelligent and unaffected acting of Miss Heath. The 
 discipline of Sadler's Wells appears to have developed in this lady 
 powers with which she used not to be credited, and she gains ground 
 rapidly in her profession. 
 
 " AVe believe that we have never yet spoken in any detail of Mr. 
 Phelps's Hamlet, but it is so well known as to need little criticism. 
 Most carefully elaborated, it is yet entirely free from that manifest 
 struggle for expression which made the Hamlet of Mr. Charles Kean 
 toilsome to follow. It must surprise some of the old frequenters of 
 the house to observe how easily and how like a true poem the play 
 now runs. Mr. Phelps never sacrifices anything to love of points. 
 Hamlet's advice to the players he himself took long ago, and he is 
 resolute never to spoil a line for so paltry a reward as ignorant 
 applause. Yet he marks very distinctly the view taken by him of 
 Hamlet's character, mtdving great use of by-play for this purpose, and 
 of the by-play of those who act with him as well as of his own. The 
 feigned madness is marked by the strongest indications of this kind. 
 In the interview Avith Ophelia, Mr. Phelps is so resolved to signify 
 emphatically Handet's sense of being overheard that, not content 
 with subtler indications, he causes the King and Polonius to advance 
 for a few moments far upon the stage, in order that his glance towards 
 them may be plain to every beholder. The by-play is in this way 
 now and then justifiably obtrusive, but obtrusiveness is a fault with 
 which the delivery of the words is never chargeable. Yet there is a 
 full rich colouring of passion and emotion, that only once falls short of 
 the occasion, namely, in the churchyard scene. In expressing Hamlet's 
 passion over the grave of Ophelia, Mr. Phelps, we think, comparatively 
 fails." 
 
 This summer season proved so successful (as already noted) 
 and agreeable to both the manager and himself, that he agreed 
 to act there the following summer of 1861.
 
 SEVENTEENTH SEASON, 1860—1861. 183 
 
 1860—1861. 
 
 The seventeenth season, and first of Mr. Phelps's sole lessee- 
 ship, commenced on 8th September, 1860, with As You Like It, 
 and on 12th, The Hypocrite, Mrs. Charles Young rejoining the 
 company, and Mr. Hermann Vezin making his first appearance 
 as Orlando. On the 15th Coriolanus was again produced, and 
 on this we give Professor Morley's criticism from the Examiner 
 of 22nd of that month as follows : — 
 
 Sadler's Wells. 
 
 " Mr. Phelps, who is now sole lessee of the theatre with which his 
 name will l^e hereafter associated, fulfils at Sadler's "Wells all those 
 conditions which the Freiherr von Wolzogen, in the dramatic criticisms 
 to which we referred last week, considers necessary to the honest pro- 
 gress of the drama. He acts national plays in a house small enough 
 to allow all to see, though few may appreciate, the subtlest and most 
 dehcate shades of expression proper to the art of the actor ; he has a 
 company of performers trained and accustomed to support each other 
 steadily, and peculiarly able to present each play as an effective whole. 
 When the curtain falls upon a play at Sadler's Wells, the audience 
 has not only seen a sight and heard much sound, but it has felt, when 
 the play was Shakespeare's, an entire poem ; most of the audience 
 have also felt it more completely than it could have come home to 
 them from their own unassisted reading. The unhalloAved union of 
 music with the drama, so deeply abhorred by M. von Wolzogen, is 
 not sanctioned at Sadler's AVells ; and while the stage is always well 
 appointed, scenic display is made, even to a remarkable degree, 
 expressive of poetical intention. 
 
 "]\rr. Phelps (who to-night plays Hotspur) has opened the campaign 
 with two plays of Shakespeare — As You Like It and Coriolanus. Tlie 
 former of these we have not yet seen, but of the Coriolanus we can 
 speak from our own knowledge. Here as ever the first mention is due 
 to the whole truth and harnuiny of the representation. The actors are 
 all in accord together ; and although the company includes few bright 
 particular stars, yet each does justice to the dignity of his profession. 
 Mr. Barrett is a genial and genuine Menenius Agripjia ; Mr. Hermann 
 Vezin, a new member of the company, who, we believe, has earned 
 honours as first tragedian in a transpontine house, is a discreet and 
 serious Aufidius, who mars notiiing by errors of commission, and errs 
 only on the hopeful si<le by under-acting of liis part. The lioman 
 mob, admirably grouped and disciplined, cannot possibly be represented 
 by a better First Citizen than Mr. Lewis Ball. 
 
 " The little part of the household friend and gossip of the women in
 
 184 LIFE-WOEK OF PHELPS. 
 
 the hero's household is spoken delightfully hy Mrs. Marston. Miss 
 Kate Saxon, an intelligent actress, Avho supphes one of the losses of 
 the company, delivers with all due simplicity the few sentences that 
 fall to her lot as the wife of Coriolanus, and expresses quietly by her 
 stage bearing the modest, faithful gentleness that folloAvs, strong in 
 love, the warrior's career. As the proud mother of the prouder son, 
 Miss Atkinson also labours her best, but she does not achieve her best. 
 When she desires with face and gesture to express scorn, it not seldom 
 happens that she fails to suggest more than intensity of spite. Tor 
 this reason her Volumnia is wanting in some of the dignity with which 
 the character has been invested by the poet. It is a hard trial, no 
 doubt, to measure the expression of a Eoman mother's pride with the 
 show of pride that a man can put into the part of Coriolanus. Pride, 
 after all, is not a woman's passion, for what passes by the name is often 
 vanity. 
 
 " The pride of Coriolanus is heroic, and is a man's pride, from which 
 vanity is altogether absent. His own praises are irksome in his ears. 
 That which he is, he is : and it is little in his simple estimation of 
 himself, for he esteems himself by what he feels the power of be- 
 coming. Upon comparisons between himself and the base multitude 
 he never wastes a thought. It matters not at what level otlier men 
 are content to dwell ; his mind abides on its own heights. Thus when 
 Caius Marcius in the camp, beset with irksome praises that he is com- 
 pelled to hear, is named Coriolanus, and there is added to this honour 
 the exhortation, ' Bear the addition nobly ever,' Mr. Phelps represents 
 him stirred by the warning into a large sense of what is in liis soul, 
 and lifted upon tiptoe by his soaring thought. The same action gives 
 grandeur to the words, 
 
 ' I'd rather be their servant in my way 
 Than sway with them in theirs,' 
 
 and is afterwards more than once used, not ostentatiously, and never 
 without giving the emphasis intended. 
 
 " As in the action of the piece that pomp of processions with the 
 constant noise of drum and trumpet which in the good old days of 
 the drama formed a prominent part of the play is subdued, and made 
 to follow instead of leading the march of the poem, so in the action of 
 Coriolanus himself it is remembered that heroic pride is self-contained. 
 The passion least to be concealed by it is impatience of subjection to 
 the shifting voices of the mob. The pride of Coriolanus is a virtue 
 overgrown, and is associated with the utmost purity and tenderness of 
 home atfections ; next to his love of honour is his love of home. The 
 two qualities belong naturally to the same mind, and in the end of 
 this play we are left unable to determine which feeling has prevailed. 
 It is meant, doubtless, to be questionable whether love would have 
 conquered had not the mother made her son — as Mr. Phelps does not 
 forget to mark very distinctly — flinch at such a pleading as,
 
 SEVENTEENTH SEASON, 1860—1861. 185 
 
 * Say, my request's unjust, 
 And spurn me back : but, if it be not so, 
 Thou art not honest.' 
 
 " The expulsion of Coriolanus from Eome is presented in a capital 
 stage picture by the grouping of the mob, and here the actor's reading 
 of his part is marked very distinctly. He had been Avrung by the 
 urgency of his friends and the commands of his mother to attempt to 
 flatter into quiet the excited mob. The attempt to do this is pre- 
 sented -with all signs of suppressed passion, and impatient, yet in itself 
 almost heroic, endurance of what is really intense torture. When the 
 tribune calls Coriolanus traitor, he recoils as from a bloAv, and lets 
 his -wrath have way. But when the mob raising their staves expel 
 him from the city, he mounts proudly the steps from Avhich as from 
 his mental height he looks doAvn on them, and he is lord of himself, 
 lord as he feels of Eome. "With a sublimity of disdain he retorts on 
 them that ' I banish you ' which Edmund Kean erred in delivering 
 with an ungovernable passion. 
 
 The scenic effect of the view of Antium by the light of the rising 
 moon, when the banished Coriolanus haunts the door of Aufidius, his 
 deadly enemy, is contrived to give colour to the poetry. But there is 
 no scene in the play more impressive to the eye than the succeeding 
 picture of the muffled figure of Coriolanus, seated by the glowing 
 embers of the brazier that represents his enemy's hearth. It is one of 
 the omissions of Mr. Vezin that he makes no sign whatever when the 
 stranger-guest discloses his name, though he had vowed that 
 
 ' Where I find him, were it 
 At home, upon my brother's guard, even there, 
 Against the hospitalile canon, would I 
 Wash my fierce hand in his heart.' 
 
 If nothing more were to be done, hands tightly clenched at the hear- 
 ing of the name, slowly relaxing till they are held out in fiiendship 
 with the Avords 
 
 ' Marcius, Marcius, 
 
 Each word thou hast spoke hath weeded from my heart 
 
 A root of ancient envy,' 
 
 would be better than absolute inaction. 
 
 " We must not dwell much longer upon this performance. Let us 
 add only that the meaning of the heroic close furnished by Shakespeare 
 to the play is well brought out at Sadler's Wells. The lofty pride 
 that when defied by liome had defied liome herself, and was to set a 
 foot upon the neck of the world's ruler, had, after painful struggle, 
 knelt at the voice of a mother, yielding nobly when to yield was 
 danj^'erous, if not mortal. When Coriolanus has attained his greatest 
 height, Aufidius, fallen to his lowest, has sunk into a dastardly cliiof 
 of a-ssassins. All hearts are thus secured for sympathy with the j)ri{lc 
 with which, as Mr. Phelps shows us, the hero resents the taunt of an
 
 186 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 enemy basely triumphant. His whole frame enlarges, and his liauds 
 press on the expanding breast as he cries 
 
 ' Measureless liar, tliou hast made my heart, 
 Too great for what contains it ! ' 
 
 And so at last the loftiness of his disdain carries all sympathies with 
 it when he whets the swords of the conspirators by telling them 
 
 ' How, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I 
 Fluttered your Volsces in Corioli : 
 Alone I did it.— Boy ! ' " 
 
 On 22nd September the First Part of Henry IV. was again 
 produced, and on the 29th The Winter's Tale, which was acted 
 for a week. On 6th October, Cymbeline ; 10th, The Winter's 
 Tale; 13th, Othello; and 17th, Cymbeline. On 20th October 
 The Tempest was again played. On 3rd November, Hamlet ; 
 10th, Macbeth; 15th, Rivals; l7th,Virginius; and on 21st Werner 
 was produced, for the purpose of introducing to the London 
 stage his son Edmund, who appeared in the character of Ulric, 
 and whose cUhut was a genuine success, for the full particulars of 
 which we refer to the following notice taken from the WeeJdy 
 Dispatch, and written by Bayle Bernard : — 
 
 Sadler's Wells. 
 
 " ISTo pursuit more than acting has attested the fact that genius is a 
 quality which does not run in the blood. Our stage does not present 
 more than two or three instances of eminent actors who have been 
 followed by eminent sons. Even moderate stage talent has not been 
 hereditary. Nearly every specimen we have seen in the second gener- 
 ation has been a sad anti-climax. We must remember, hoAvever, the 
 somewhat remarkable fact, that actors, for the most part, have been 
 averse to their children taking up their own art. Whether tliis has 
 been owing to their experience of the difficulties attending it, or to 
 their sense of an ideal which their sons did not reach, it would be 
 vain to inquire. Their paternal ambition has, in several instances, 
 been curious enough. Forty or fifty years since, the leading desire of 
 comedians was to send their sons into the Church. Fawcett, Ijartley, 
 Charles Young, Charles Kemble, and even Braham, were seen assidu- 
 ously devoting their scions to surplices. In some cases, doubtless, the 
 aim was well founded, but in many, we fear, it was simply a morbid 
 concession to sectarian prejudice. The stage was denounced by the 
 Mawvvorms as a sinful pursuit, and the actors accordingly, after the 
 old Jewish precedent, ottered their first-born to Heaven as a sort of 
 atonement for their personal guilt. We believe the age is outliving 
 any such shallow delusion. We believe the stage in itself to be as 
 pure and moral a pursuit as any existing, and as capable of being
 
 SEVENTEENTH SEASON, 1860—1861. 187 
 
 rendered a great aid to society. Acting is not only an art, but of all 
 arts is that which deals most intensely with our common humanity — 
 that liumanity, be it remembered, which Christianity bids us love, and 
 civilization displays as an upward expanding capacity — and which, 
 presenting the reflex of our nature in others — by unveiling the sources 
 of thought and emotion — gives us the most vivid sense of what is best 
 in ourselves — of what our wills should accept and our sympathies 
 follow. This may sound like a platitude, but its repetition is neces- 
 sary when the ignorant cant against acting is still so rife in our 
 pulpits. It will be inferred, therefore, that we regard with no ordinary 
 interest, and as something more than the great theatrical event of a 
 week, the dehnt, on his own stage, of a son of Mr. Phelps. AYe can 
 have no occasion to repeat what we have so often recorded— our sense 
 of the claims of the latter both as an actor and manager. As an actor 
 he is undoubtedly at the very head of his art, being, of Shakespeare 
 especially, one of our profoundest interpreters ; Avhilst as a manager 
 we are quite sure we only convey the general feeling, when we saj'' he 
 has done more to sustain the best claims of the drama than all the 
 lessees of London for many years past. At his house distinctively, 
 humanity and not its garb has been the end kept in view. The poet 
 has been made the statue, and the tailor and painter the pedestal. 
 And the residt has been a fuU unbroken flow of success, extending 
 now over a period of seventeen seasons, which clearly proves in his 
 own case — as we have so often had occasion to insist on in others — 
 that, in the age in which we live, policy and principle are identical 
 things, and that that which is best in art is best also commercially. 
 It is essential to add that the claims of Mr. Phelps by no means end 
 here. He has exhibited a harmony of a still higher kind. He has 
 displayed an integrity in all his private relations which has long and 
 honourably shown that there was nothing repugnant in his art to the 
 most estimable existence, nor any ground why the actor should not be 
 able to exemplify as well as to teach. When, therefore, a man so 
 accredited, both in public and private, brings his son before the world 
 to partake his own labours, and to succeed, as we hope, to his best 
 fame and fortunes, we confess we regard it as a trilmte to the dignity 
 of his pursuit which cannot fail to have its influence on public opinion, 
 and ought to act as an example to his more timid brethren. This, 
 of course, is to assume that such a step is well warranted, which, in 
 the instance in question, it gives us great pleasure to say is very clearly 
 the case. Mr. Edmund Phelps, in the fii-st place, is highly favoured 
 by nature. Tall and graceful in person, he has a pleasant expressive 
 face, and a voice clear and resonant. His action certainly shows that 
 lie is entirely new to the stage ; but if wanting ease, whicli, of course, 
 is the pure result of experience, his natural manner is obviously maidy 
 and dignified. He seems to have all the best media which mind can 
 require. Of his genius at present we can at best but conjecture. The 
 character in whicli he has appeared, that of IJlric in AVerncir, affords 
 him but a limited, though a well-defined scope. It i)rcseiits a picture
 
 188 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 of a strong will, coupled with reckless desire — a vehement tempera- 
 ment, uni'estrained by either ideal or principle, which, however true of 
 its period — the social convulsions of Germany, consequent on the 
 Thirty Years' War — is naturally repellent, and only to be made attract- 
 ive by the mingled vigour and dignity with Avhich it' is sustained. 
 This sustainment it receives at the hands of its new illustrator, who, 
 in the two important scenes — the urging Werner to flight after the 
 commission of the murder, and the calm acknowledgment of the crime 
 when charged with it by the Hungarian — rose easily and firmly to the 
 entire demands of the author. His dehut, then, is to be regarded as a 
 very decided success, and one that warrants us in indulging great hopes 
 of his future. Of the Werner of Mr, Phelps it is perhaps the best 
 praise to say that it is the nearest approach Ave have yet seen to the 
 great achievement of its original. All who saw it at the hands of 
 Macready were led on one ground or another to regard it as one of his 
 most distinctive performances. I^ature had contributed to this end 
 in the vehement temperament of the actor — in his sensitive pride, his 
 withered look, and his dignified bearing. If in the restless vehemence 
 of the earlier scenes — the exasperation at wrong and suffering, and the 
 unbroken pride of the fallen noble, which impressed on Macready's 
 Werner the stormy mountain look of some old feudal ruin — Mr. Phelps 
 could scarcely hope to surpass his precursor, in the later scenes, which, 
 after all, are perhaps the most ideal, where his sense of the destiny 
 working in the curse of his father is rendered more poignant by liis 
 paternal affection, Mr. Phelps presented a picture which couhl scarcely 
 be heightened. The Gabor of Mr. Marston was also a striking per- 
 formance, one of the most picturesque versions of the fearless Hun- 
 garian that we remember to have seen, and infinitely the best that the 
 stage now possesses. Nor did the melodious voice and graceful bear- 
 ing of Miss Atkinson fail to impart unusual interest to the mere sketch 
 of Josephine. The excitement produced at tliis theatre by Mr. 
 Edmund Phelps's first appearance will be readily conceived. A theatre 
 packed to the roof is no unusual affair here ; but it Avas one of those 
 occasions on which a Sadler's Wells audience is only too happy to 
 express its personal esteem for the manager, apart, we verily believe, 
 from all professional likings ; and his reception on this evening, 
 together with that of his son, rose to one of those storms of enthusiasm 
 which it is quite impossible to describe. We are happy to add that 
 this enthusiasm has scarcely abated on subsequent evenings, now that 
 both father and son have to rely on their professional rather than their 
 personal merits," 
 
 This piece, with The Wife, Richelieu, and Othello, carried him 
 up to Christmas, He played Julian St. Pierre, and his son 
 Leonardo Gonzaga, in The Wife. 
 
 On Boxing and two following nights Jane Shore was enacted, 
 and on 29th, The Wife. On 3rd January, 1861, The Honeymoon
 
 SEVEXTEENTH SEASON, 1860—1861. 189 
 
 was acted; and on 8th, The Fool's Revenge; 12th, Hamlet; 
 19th, Winter's Tale. On 2-ith he produced Richelieu by com- 
 mand of Her Majesty and the late Prince Consort at Windsor 
 Castle. It was played by his own company with the exception 
 of Julie, which was performed by Miss Heath, then a member 
 of Mr. Harris's coraj)any. 
 
 On 26th January King Lear was again acted ; and on 30th, 
 John Bull ; on 9th February, Macbeth ; and on 14th, As You 
 Like It. On 16th King John was again played for nine nights ; 
 and from 27th February to 22nd March, Julius Cajsar, Othello, 
 Fool's Revenge, Wonder, Romeo and Juliet, and Man of the 
 World. On 23rd Phelps took his benefit, and played William 
 Tell and Sponge. To the end of the season, some of the above 
 plays were again enacted. 
 
 In May, after Sadler's Wells was closed, he again went to 
 the Princess's for the summer, he and Fechter acting on 
 alternate nights. Reference to this has already been made 
 when speaking of that gentleman. The following fine piece 
 of criticism from the pen of Professor Morley on his King Lear 
 appeared in the Examiner of 1st June : — 
 
 Princess's Theatre. 
 
 "The Kins Lear of Mr. Phelps, which has been played in alter- 
 nation with the Hamlet of Fechter, draws full houses to the Princess's. 
 In the opening of the play the actor represents the Lear of the old 
 legend. Infirm with age, he is led to his seat. His hand trembles, 
 and everything indicates the weakness of body, in which a weak mind 
 is working. Mr. Phelps acts the scene well, marks strongly the 
 tenderness for Cordelia, and delicately traces a gradation through 
 which Lear's mind passes, as his love for her turns to a Avrath that is 
 effectively expressed. The whole first act is an actor's triumph ; the 
 curse upon Goneril, spoken, as the whole character is conceived, with 
 a sense rather of the pathetic than the terrible, being the best part of 
 it. Nevertheless, it is not here that Mr. Phelps pleases us best. We 
 miss, what we have never fairly seen upon the stage, the majesty of 
 absolute dominion in the royal Lear, Avhom Shakespeare l>r()ughfc into 
 grand contrast with the Lear in the storm, slave of the elements, ' a 
 poor, infirm, weak, and despised old man,' who goes shivering to the 
 straw of the hovel. If anywhere, the late manager of the Princess's, 
 who delighted in spectacle, might in the first scene of Lear have piled 
 barbaric pomp upon the stage. Lut he was apt at nussing a jjoetical 
 intention. Mr. Phelps does not, we thiidi, make full use of all tlic 
 hints given by Shakespeare to the actor for cxprcsshig the imi.erious
 
 190 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 habit of King Lear who had grown old in despotic rule. Even his 
 entry from the hunt, when at Albany's castle, with the ' Let me not 
 wait a jot for dinner,' which Mr. Charles Kean interpreted as the 
 words of a jovially hungry man (generally treating Lear at this stage 
 of his tragedy as a comic character), Mr, Phelps turns to no account. 
 In the first scene the impatient majesty upon which Shakespeare 
 dwelt had been sacrificed to representation of the age and infirmity of 
 which alone the legend teaches us. But the infirmity has in a great 
 measure to be laid aside. The shaking head and trembling hands 
 cannot be carried through the play. Thus there is double loss rather 
 than gain in laying at the outset too much stress upon infirmity. 
 There is, we thiid^, another shortcoming in the early part of Mr. 
 Phelps's Lear. With singular literalness Shakespeare indicates to the 
 actor of Lear the exact course of the change to madness. It is pre- 
 ceded by a pang of terror in the close of the first act, — 
 
 ' let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven ! 
 Keep me in temper ; I would not be mad ! ' 
 
 "There are well-marked struggles with the rising pang at his heart 
 indicated throughout the scenes in the second act, where the character 
 formed by long habit of rule overlies even the natural agony of the 
 father. Of Kent set in the stocks by his son and daughter, the first 
 exclamation is, ' They durst not do't,' and in the scene which opens 
 with their denial to speak with him, it is the wounded majesty that 
 rages first, and the wrung heart that appears through it. The first act 
 ended for Lear with terror lest he should go mad. In the second his 
 last words are, ' fool, I shall go mad.' In the third act the first 
 scene on the heath is a sane frenzy, and towards the close of it, as 
 majesty creeps to the hovel, Lear simply defines his state, ' My wits 
 begin to turn.' He is not mad when in the next scene he reads one 
 of the grand lessons of the play, praying in the storm outside the hovel, 
 mindful of the world's ' looped and windowed raggedness ' — 
 
 ' Take physic, pomp ; 
 Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel. ' 
 
 " Just before, when thinking of his daughters, he had shuddered 
 and recoiled at the thought, ' That way madness lies, let me shun 
 that.' But the night of exposure to the storm completes the ruin. 
 ' This cold night,' says the Fool, ' will turn us all to fools and madmen,' 
 and the wild talk of Edgar, in his assumed madness, precipitates the 
 real madness of Lear. When he is talking with this philosopher, 
 Kent urges Gloster to importune him to go, because ' his wits begin to 
 unsettle,' and when he is brought by Gloster into the farmhouse, we 
 are at last warned by Kent's first words that ' all the power of his 
 wits have given way to his impatience.' Now although Mr. Phelps 
 gives a fine reading of the part, and delivers every passage so well that 
 he is deservedly recalled by an enthusiastic audience after each act, we 
 do not think that he contrasts sufficiently the royal state with the
 
 EIGHTEENTH SEASON, 1861—1862. 191 
 
 abject misery ; the imperious way, strong in weak characters, with the 
 lowest humility of the infirm, weak, and despised old man. Neither, 
 we think, in the accession of Lear's madness, do Ave get from ^Mr. 
 Phelps what, indeed, no actor in our time has altogether given, a full 
 embodiment of Shakespeare's conception. 
 
 " But from the time that Lear enters Avith his robes washed almost 
 colourless by the rain, a feeble old man, weary and witless, after his 
 night's Avandering under the storm, everything is exquisitely done, the 
 story being read Avholly Avith regard to its pathos, not to its ten-or. 
 The kin" is utterly lost in the father. The Avound to the heart has 
 struck, as no hurt to the dignity of royal robes can strike a man. 
 ]\L\iesty has been contemned in its rags. Humanity lives to assert 
 itself. The quiet broken spirit, the strayed wits, the tender nursing 
 and rocking of the body of Cordelia in the closing scene ; the faint 
 interest in all but her by Avhose love Lear's broken heart Avas held 
 together; the tenderness Avith Avhich he lays her doAA-n, as for an 
 instant, Avhile he lifts his hands to the throat in Avliich the last con- 
 vulsive throe of death is rising ; his quiet death, Avith his eyes, his 
 pointing hands, and his last Avords directed to her lips, are exquisitely 
 touching." 
 
 1861—1862. 
 
 Phelps's eigliteentli and last season of management of Sadler's 
 Wells commenced on 7th September, 1861, Avith The Hunchback, 
 a Mrs. Bowers making her first appearance in Julia a fair 
 success; and on li^tli The Lady of Lyons was enacted. On 
 14th, the Second Part of Henry IV. Avas again done, for the 
 purpose of his son Edmund's playing the Prince of Wales Avith 
 him in the fourth act, he himself playing again Justice Shallow 
 as Avell as the King, and on 21st September he produced a 
 version of Louis XL, and played Louis for the first time, 
 making a tremendous sensation by his performance of that 
 character. It was an altogether different thing from Charles 
 Kean's rendering of the part, and to prove this Ave insert tAVo 
 very exhaustive criticisms on it, by F. G. Tomlins from the 
 Morning Advertiser, and Bayle Bernard from the Wccldy 
 Dispatch, respectively : — 
 
 .Sadler's Wells, 
 
 " Casimir Delavigne's clever play of Louis XL has, l)y slow degroos, 
 crept on to the English stage. Originally Avritten for a Parisian 
 actor Avho liad remarkable powers of charactciizatiuii, it has been
 
 192 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 adapted in various countries by actors who felt their genius lay in 
 the same direction. If not the very first, the most noted of these 
 adaptations for the English stage was that made by Mr. Charles 
 Kean, when he was lessee of the Princess's Theatre ; and whatever 
 differences of opinion there might be as to that actor in other parts, it 
 was universally allowed he was highly effective in Louis XI. There 
 was much in the character that suited his particular idiosyncrasy 
 and undoubtedly there was a mixture of the grotesque and the 
 terrible, the absurd and the emphatic, to which he did ample justice. 
 There have been other representations of this eccentric monster on our 
 metropolitan boards, to whom it is not necessary to refer. 
 
 " On Saturday night Mr, Phelps, undoubtedly the ablest of our 
 present actors, undertook the part in a version which we imagine has 
 been specially concocted for this theatre. "We cannot say any of the 
 versions we have seen do justice to the original, and this one is 
 certainly no exception. It is much contracted, and the language 
 wants vigour and dramatic force. These defects, however, do not 
 appear so obviously in the principal part, and the play is undoubtedly 
 little better than a monologue, the interest of which does not rest in 
 the actions or fortunes of the principal character, but in the mode in 
 which it is represented. 
 
 "Mr. Phelps is the most deserving the designation of an actor of 
 any one who has performed in our generation, for he impersonates ; 
 and, instead of subduing, as was too long the fashion, every character 
 to his own peculiarities, he entirely adapts himself to the character he 
 undertakes. This is truly the Protean duty of stage playing ; and all 
 avoidance of it is an acknowledgment of an incapacity for the art of 
 acting. Mr. Phelps is, therefore, the most varied actor of the age, 
 and has made to himself a long list of characters, which embrace the 
 whole range of the drama, from Macbeth and Hamlet to Justice 
 Shallow and Bottom the Weaver. 
 
 " The character of Louis XL had naturally great charms for him, 
 for it is full of changes and full of difficulties. The French author, 
 with an extravagant and national love of contrarieties and of violent 
 contrasts, has exaggerated even the extraordinary portrait which 
 Philip de Comines and other histf)rians have left us of the subtle 
 and remorseless politician of the fifteenth century, who welded the 
 various chieftainships of Gaul into the French monarchy. Louis 
 XL crushed the tyrannical nobility, destroyed their sovereign power, 
 and raised up the bourgeoisie class to a position in the State. In 
 doing this he certainly committed some atrocious acts, and gener- 
 ated the hatred of many classes and sects, who seem to have each 
 delighted in representing him as a peculiar monster of bigotry, cruelty, 
 and avarice. 
 
 " It was the cue of the French author to decry monarchy at the 
 time of the production of his play ; and it was then the fashion 
 covertly to represent all possessors of crowns as odious. It was also 
 the taste of the author and of his age to picture monstrosities and to
 
 EIGHTEENTH SEASON, 1861—1862. 193 
 
 give to an assemblage of opposite characteristics the appearance of 
 truth and a certain vraisemblnnce. The portrait of Louis XL 
 has been drawn on this principle, and it nnist lie confessed, with 
 great ingenuity ; and though we may not be able to reconcile it 
 with history, yet it is made consistent with itself : — Politic and 
 passionate ; Godless and bigoted ; without a conscience, yet abjectly 
 credulous ; grovelling and insolent ; mean and daring ; a very reptile, 
 yet with the power of evil and of creating terror which the serpent 
 tribe possess. 
 
 " Here is a fine subject for the genius of histrionic art ; here is a 
 lay model which the talent of tire artist can clothe with flesh and 
 blood, and with so much of humanity as will make it pass muster for 
 a veritable man. Mr. Phelps's conception of this mass of baseness 
 and revoltingness, as a whole, is conceived with his usual ability and 
 sense. He takes a broader view of the character than his predecessors, 
 and in so doing loses some of their smaller effects. His portrait is 
 less angular and by so much less piquant ; but it is far more historic 
 and probable. We have nothing of the buffoon, and more of the 
 politician and the king ; and had the author been less intent upon 
 producing small contrasts Ave should have had even more artistic 
 contrariety, and the king and the self-confident ruler Avould have 
 interchanged more fully with the horrid bigot and the grovelling 
 coAvard. ISIacbeth and Hamlet are as full of strange contrarieties 
 as Louis XL, but it has as yet been permitted but to one dramatist 
 to weld the most extraordinary opposites of disposition into one 
 character, and to condense a long political life into three hours' 
 representation. 
 
 " The grotesque, Avhich occupied so conspicuous a portion of the 
 personation at the Princess's, finds, very properly, no place in Mr. 
 Phelps's delineation ; but this very excellence Avill disappoint those 
 who hunger after perpetual points, and prefer the intensities of effect 
 to the broader and truer delineation of character. We certainly pre- 
 ferred the latter portion of Mr. Phelps's performance to the earlier ; 
 for, though that was picturesque and full of excellent character, yet it 
 lacked the intensity of the later part. The brain-sick fancies with 
 which the diseased mind of the tyrant is filled, and the revolting 
 images to which it gives rise, were intensely delivered ; but the 
 crowning excellence of the performance was the last act, which is as 
 fine and pure a piece of acting as we have ever seen. The care- 
 worn king is fast wasting away from a world he is besotted with, to 
 go to one filled with the phantom honors which his guilty nature and 
 cowardly heart suggest. Haggard and worn out, he assumes the kingly 
 robes and puts on his feeble brow ' the round and top of sovereignty.' 
 Uut his voice has changed to a deadly key ; his pale and hideous 
 countenance shows the fierce conflict of his passions, and tells us tliat 
 the inevitable hour is nigh. He stagg(!rs ; he falls on his couch ; he 
 changes to his chair of state. He will not believe in death ; he 
 juggles even with fate, and seems to hope that, dyhig, he can outface 
 
 o
 
 194 LTFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 the conqueror of all. The struggle comes, and he who kept all around 
 him in awe is a lump of clay. ' Le Eoi est mort — Vive le Eoi.' All 
 this was given without any of those contortions, or of those minute 
 physical details which justly make many persons think such displays 
 unseemly. The picture was fully conceived and broadly and artis- 
 tically rendered, carrying with it a sense of dignity and awe. And 
 when the curtain goes down on the dead tyrant and the hopeful 
 successor, we feel we have had an historical and a suggestive lesson, 
 and have witnessed a remarkable piece of personation. 
 
 " There can be little doubt that Louis XL will pass perma- 
 nently into that large class of characters of which Mr. Phelps has 
 so valuable a repertoire. The play is in every way Avell and pic- 
 turesquely put on the stage ; but of the general acting there is not 
 much to say, for the other characters are but stage puppets, j\Ir. 
 Edmund Phelps has sufficient youth, appearance, and energy for the 
 Due de Xemours ; Mr. Barrett was an efficient and emphatic Hermit ; 
 and Miss Murray, ladylike, as the very tame Marie. Of the more 
 immediate followers of the king we can only say we earnestly wish 
 they Avould keep more in the background. Coitier, the physician, 
 was bold even to brutality, and swaggered in such a way that it is 
 hardly possible even such a man as Louis would have put up with it. 
 Tristan, the well-known creature and executioner, was represented as 
 a kind of burlesque brigand, and conducted hiaiself altogether after a 
 very different kind of fashion to that which we imagine to be the 
 truth. Probably he was a very bland, facile gentleman, whose only 
 fault was a too obsequious obedience. Oliver, the barber, is not very 
 prominent nor very offensive, but considering his profession he might 
 have mitigated his eyebrows a little. The jilay in itself is uninterest- 
 ing, and there is nothing but the extraordinary talent displayed in the 
 performance of the chief character that can keep it alive. The house 
 Avas crammed, and boundless in their approbation." 
 
 " The character of Louis XL, as traced by Casimir de la Yigne, was 
 intended, it must be remembered, to subserve a party purpose. The 
 poet was a Eepublican, who, after the three days of July, sought, by 
 all means in his power, to throw discredit upon monarchy, just as his 
 compatriot, Victor Hugo, in his Le Eoi s'Amuse and Euy Bias, endea- 
 voured, with kindred zeal, to disparage a noblesse. In his desire to 
 see a throne abolished as completely as the Bourbons, he felt justified, 
 not only in selecting a tyrant as its type, but even in exaggerating his 
 vices by the mode of their presentment. He was not reluctant to 
 paint Louis XL rather as a monster than as a man. Every excuse 
 Avas to be suppressed, and every redeeming trait rejected, whilst every 
 infamy and weakness were to be enlarged by being convej'ed through 
 the passionate medium of a drama. In the focus of its rapid action 
 he collected all the sins and tendencies Avhich had been spread over 
 an entire life, and, thus distorted, placed the picture under the 
 expanding lens of the emotions. There were two pleas at least which
 
 EIGHTEENTH SEASON, 1861—1862. 195 
 
 could be put forward on behalf of Louis. In the first place, his 
 ambition to rear an absolute throne on feudalism could propose the 
 public good by putting an end to the blood and rapine involved in the 
 struggles of his feudatories ; and in the next place, his crimes, however 
 atrocious, were those of his age, and owed their distinction a great 
 deal more to their elevation than their rarity. Both Brant ume and 
 De Comines are conclusive upon this point. His great adversary, 
 Charles the Bold, was just as false and bloody as himself ; and in 
 respect to ordinary vices, from the meanest craft to the most wanton 
 violence, his host of minor rivals, from the Constable St. Pol to the 
 Duke de Berri, certainly competed with him to a point that left him 
 no claim to pre-eminence.' At the same time, he had some merits 
 which he might almost call his own. He was no oppressor of liis own 
 lieges, however indili'erent to the fate of others ; and, arbitrary as he 
 was, he gave way at the voice of his Parliament. He had some natural 
 and healthy tastes, such as a love for agriculture and the cliase ; and, 
 so far from being the morose and gloomy savage drawn by the poet, 
 he showed no little comicality, and at times a positive honhomie. The 
 truth is that Louis XL was rather a huge imperial oddity than, viewed 
 in relation to liis times, any vast moral distortion. Everything about 
 him was strange, quaint, and anomalous. Whether in his person or in 
 his spirit, he Avas a mass of contradictions. His head was too large 
 for his body, his arms were strong, his legs were weak, w'hilst his mind 
 was a melange of the most positive extremes. He was almost equally 
 compounded of cowardice and courage, of sound sense and superstition, 
 of meanness and munificence, of good-nature and blood-thirstiness. He 
 could show all these qualities in turn, and almost in the course of a 
 single day, Avithout either serving to restrain or modify in the least 
 degree its opposite. But this strange, discordant being, at whose 
 nature on the whole we can scarcely refrain to smile, how^ever repelled 
 by social aspects, is not the hero of the play. There he is presented 
 as the mere monster, who, stamped with every villainy, and stripped 
 of all excuse, is so denuded of even the grandeur which belonged to 
 his ambitiun, that the impression we receive from him is one of entire 
 meanness. The petty and contemptil)le mark his infamy tlirougliout. 
 Whether in his robbery of the poor peasants whose previous robber he 
 has been punishing ; whether in his abject terror before his enemy, or 
 in his still more abject fear beside his doctor and his priest, the 
 despicable stamps him quite as mucli as the revolting; antl this was 
 De la Yigne's design. In presenting this culprit as the type of a 
 detested institution, he felt lie could not deal it a severer blow than 
 that of popular contempt. Such a character, of course, it was not 
 difficult to assume in France, where, up to the present hour, its poli- 
 tical purpose is detected ; but it is quite clear that among ourselves, 
 where it would be tried by natural standards, no little art was required 
 in the actor to render its vi-llainy endura])le. AV^ith nothing heroic, or 
 sympathetic, or even amusing in its features, how was it possible to 
 make it impressive or even probable to Englisli feelings. I^fr. (Jharles 
 
 o 2
 
 196 LIFE-WOEK OF PHELPS. 
 
 Kean solved this problem in a way that every one has acknowledged to 
 be his most genuine achievement. His key to it is intensity. A charac- 
 ter so untrue alike to history and humanity could only be treated in 
 the same strain as a purely exceptional case of evil^could only be 
 shown as a gigantic selfism, which had grown so delirious through 
 indulgence, so lost to all moral consciousness by unlimited abuse, that 
 even impending death, which roused its terrors, could not waken a 
 sense of guilt, but merely a sudden agony at the cessation of its enjoy- 
 ments. Such a character, it is obvious, could only be represented as 
 a mass of passion ; and passion, however animal, never fails to attract 
 and kindle. Mr. Kean employed this instrument, and never to more 
 purpose. He saw that in such an assumption intensity was truth, and 
 this intensity he gave us to the very confines of burlesque. Every 
 aspect of the Eoyal culprit was expanded to the point of exhaustion. 
 If the King scolded a liege, he roared at him ; if he seized a victim, 
 he foamed with fury ; if he trembled under the dagger of an enemy, 
 he shrieked I It was the very excess of his expression which bestowed 
 a sort of naturalness on the forced creation of the writer. However 
 false to general standards, it was made consistent with itself. These 
 particulars must be enumerated in order to enable us to do full justice 
 to the arduous task and the indisputable success of Mr, Phelps. In 
 essaying Louis XI. a double combat lay before him. He had to 
 struggle with a first and great impression by another actor, and he had 
 to do so in a far less striking, if a much truer and profounder form. 
 Mr. Phelps's view of Louis is not that of the drama, but of history. 
 He regards the King as a very anomalous and vicious man — but not a 
 monster ; as a mass of selfism, which, however triumphant, had not 
 succeeded in destroying conscience, but, on the contrary, which moves 
 before us under an hourly augmenting retribution. He presents the 
 King to us without furor, without delirium, without enjoyment, 
 as still clinging to his crimes, and even yearning to increase them, but 
 overshadowed by the sense of a rapidly approaching doom, which will 
 inflict the double penalty of their removal and' requital. Now this 
 view, which is not only the more human, but the more dignified and 
 tragic, has to struggle, we must remember, at every point, with that of 
 the play, which has been constructed to illustrate an entirely opposite 
 state of mind. Mr. Phelps — not like Mr. Kean, who accepts tlie 
 dramatist's conception — is as much fettered by the material given him 
 as by the want of that which has been withheld. Whilst De la Vigne 
 has failed to supply him with that strange anomaly described by 
 history, whose mere grotesqueness, it is easy to see, would have been 
 expanded by Mr, Phelps into a striking relief as well as truth, he 
 presents a subject which the latter neither believes in nor accepts, but 
 modifies in some measure at every point of the plot. He makes the 
 King calmer and more conscious ; less vindictive and less abject ; with 
 less terror before his enemy, less prostration before his priest. If 
 equally revolting, he is less despicable, whilst the silent torture he is 
 made to show, serves on the general impression almost to reclaim him
 
 EIGHTEENTH SEASON, 1861—1862. 197 
 
 to our pity. This is a view Avbich it must be admitted is far more 
 human, if less striking, and one that testifies as lionourahly to the 
 genius of an actor as the difficulties in its fulfilment form the measure 
 of his success. At the same time it must not be supposed, because 
 this conception is a more composed one, it is at all wanting in force. 
 The mental power that is shown throughout is much too manifest for 
 that, whilst in certain passages this quality combines with a physical 
 vio'our to produce an entire impression which we have never seen 
 exceeded. Such is the close of the fourth act, when, on his escape 
 from De Nemours' vengeance, the terror of the King conjures up the 
 phantoms of a crowd of victims of his own, amidst whose gl irings he 
 rushes oQ in a sudden frenzy of remorse and horror. It is, however, 
 the last act of the play which produces the great impression, and 
 conducts a noble performance to a grand and adequate conclusion. It 
 is the dying scene of the King, when tottering in, robed and crowned, 
 as though endeavouring in his wild despair to awe even death into 
 obedience, his sunken eye, his palsied limbs, and, above all, his choking 
 voice, present a picture of retribution whose terrible grandeur we are 
 quite confident has not been matched for many years. Altogether 
 this is a performance so original and masterly that it cannot fail to 
 become one of Mr. Phelps's best resources, and add another to the 
 lengthened list of the great attractions of his house. Of its impression 
 on his audience Ave can have little need to speak. It has filled the 
 theatre nightly with eager and attentive listeners, who watch its 
 progress with the keenest interest, and reward its object with the 
 loudest summons at the close of every act. The De Nemours on this 
 occasion is Mr. Edmund Phelps, Avhose youthful and manly bearing 
 well sustains the spirit of its filial obligations, and whose denunciation 
 of the tyrant in the scene of the fourth act was an evidence of vigour 
 that was equally welcome and effective. The Dauphin was enacted by 
 a r^Iiss Ada Dyas, who seems to have intelligence and spirit ; and all 
 the other characters were very adequately filled. The play has been 
 produced in a manner worthy of the theatre, with just that amount of 
 truth and beauty which serves to sustain illusion in order to secure 
 illusion's end." 
 
 On 5th October William Tell was acted ; and on 12th, Hamlet ; 
 16th, Richelieu; and on 19th, A Midsummer Night's Dream 
 was again put upon the boards. On 2nd November Othello 
 was acted, and tlie three following criticisms on that performance 
 speak for themselves : the first from the Morning Advertiser, 
 by F. G. Tomlins, the second from the Daihj Telegraph of 
 4th November, and the third from the Morning Herald and 
 Standard.
 
 198 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 Sadler's \Yells. 
 
 " The town seems beset with a desire to see Othello performed, for 
 at every theatre where it is announced there is an overflowing audience. 
 ]\Ir. Phelps, as might naturally be expected, on Saturday night repro- 
 duced it, and gave his version of the jealous Moor. It is not the first 
 time by many we, in common with the rest of the play-going world, 
 have seen Mr. Phelps's personation of this important character ; nor is 
 there any great variation of his conception or delineation of it. His 
 reading (as all his readings are) is marked by great sense and simplicity. 
 He in no way seeks to strain the language to any unusual meaning ; 
 and, being well-versed in the language of Shakespeare, he interprets 
 with great faithfuhress and power. 
 
 " Mr. Phelps is, of course, not likely to be infected with any 
 modern heresies of acting, and judges entirely for himself; but we 
 cannot but fancy the recent tendency of the town towards the extreme 
 of familiarity and realization has so far affected him that he takes 
 more opportunities than ever of rendering in a familiar manner such 
 parts of the text as admit of any such interpretation. 
 
 " His natural dignity, however, gives all the requisite sustenance 
 to the character, and we think he admirably hits the juste tnilieu 
 between stage pomposity and a common-place familiarity. Though he 
 is as easy and natural as may be, he nevertheless understands that 
 there is in the senate, on guard, and in public generally, something 
 more of artificial manners than when unrobed in his harem he takes 
 his ease. 
 
 " In the grand scenes of the last three acts, where the passion 
 predominates, his great artistic power is shown, and his mingled rage 
 and grief are finely expressed. He even is too slow, we think, in 
 coming to the jealousy, but when it does come there is no mistaking 
 it. The great and pathetic speech of the farewell to his occupation 
 was given with consummate art and force, and the images rose one after 
 the other into a grand climax, till they were all scattered by the last 
 despairhig line. This mixture of elocutionary power and deep feeling 
 Mr. Phelps is probably the only man on our stage who can properly 
 render ; and it is the perfection of his art. In the death scene he 
 adopts the usual business, and takes care to give all those well-known 
 lines which mark so strongly the dreadful anguish of the madly 
 jealous man ; and this full rendering of the text brings out the 
 deliberate and truly tragic nature of this agonizing scene. When 
 clipped and curtailed it plays with the glib superficiality of a domestic 
 melodrama. Take it altogether, Mr. Phelps's personation and enact- 
 ment of this part is one the English stage may be proud of, and it 
 need apprehend no foreign rivalry, nor any modern novelty of repre- 
 sentation. There are very few persons, and certainly no actor, who 
 can read our great dramatist with the correctness and profundity of 
 Mr. Phelps.
 
 EIGHTEENTH SEASON, 1861— 18G2. 199 
 
 " Of the general performance of the play we cannot speak approv- 
 ingly ; for with the exception of Miss Atkinson, who acted Emilia 
 admirably, with great force, but with fine judgment and feeling, the 
 cast was utterly inefficient. Mr. Conway, a new appearance, was 
 unusually precise, not to say pragmatical, in lago. Mr. Edmund 
 Phelps was utterly humourless in Eoderigo, and Mr. Villiers anything 
 but seductive in Cassio, 
 
 " The scenery is extremely picturesque, and the audience were 
 boundlessly expressive in their admiration." 
 
 " Shakespeare's tragedy of Othello, to which such unusual interest 
 just now attaches, was produced at Sadler's Wells Theatre on Saturday 
 evening, with Mr. Phelps in the principal character. The perform- 
 ance was exactly what might have been expected from the ^lopular 
 performer whose talents have been so long employed in delineating 
 the higher creations of our poetic drama. If Mr. Phelps does not 
 strike out any fresh paths for himself, or present us with new readings 
 of the text, he nevertheless gives us a vigorous and effective endjodi- 
 ment, which shows he has caught the true meaning of the author, 
 and has no lack of capacity to give expression to that meaning. That 
 he follows 'tradition' is a charge which can, of course, be made 
 against him, and to which he must at once plead guilty. Tlius in 
 tlie Council Chamber he does not, like M. Fechter, affect an indifferent 
 and careless air, as though at a levee or a hal mai<que, but, mindful of 
 the odious offence imputed to him, of the powerful tribunal before 
 which he stands, and of the perfect purity of his own conduct, speaks 
 with the earnestness of tone and elevation of manner befitting the 
 place and the occasion. In the opening scene of the third act the 
 fiery and impetuous Othello as represented by Mr. Phelps is at once 
 excited by the innuendoes of lago, unlike the highly-polished and 
 well-bred Othello of the French performer, whose suspicions are not 
 in the slightest degree aroused until special and direct allusion is 
 made to the conduct of his wife. In the fifth act, too, ' tradition ' is 
 so closely adhered to at Sadler's Wells that the strangling takes place 
 behind curtains in an alcove at the back of the stage, and is preceded 
 by no struggle between Othello and Desdemona, in which the latter 
 rushes to the door and is carried back to the bed by the former, 
 according to the directions laid down in M. Fechter's ' acting edition ' 
 of the tragedy. Finally, Mr. Plielps does not force lago down on liis 
 knees, and make a pretence of poignarding him, utterly forgetting that 
 Lodovico, Montano, and the officers present would have prevented a 
 self-condemned assassin from being guilty of such violence ; but 
 follows the text of Shakespeare, and, under cover of the narrative he 
 relates of his adventure at Aleppo, disarms ' suspicion, ami stabs 
 himself before his arm can be stayed by those present. In tliis way 
 is 'tradition' adhered to in tlie tlieatre to wliich we are referring; 
 and we cannot help flunking that a truer and more poetic appre- 
 ciation of the spirit of our great bard is thus displayed than can be
 
 200 LIFE WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 discerned in much of the 'innovation' to be witnessed in another 
 establishment. 
 
 " Contrasting tlie performance of jMr. Phelps with that of M. 
 Fechter, we may say in general terms that where the latter is weakest 
 the former shows his greatest strength. What an effort, for instance, 
 the French actor makes to give some effect to the terrible lines — 
 
 ' If I do prove her haggard, 
 Though that her jesses were my dear heart-strings, 
 I'd whistle her off and let her down the wind, 
 To prey at fortune. * 
 
 Yet how signally he fails to reach the climax of the passion they 
 expres-!. Mr. Phelps, on the contrary, merely yields himself as it 
 Avere to the torrent of emotion flowing tl rough his heart, and is 
 borne along without any effort on its impetuous current. The same 
 difference in the powers of the two actors was distinguishable in the 
 delivery of the lines — 
 
 ' I had rather be a toad. 
 
 And live upon the vapour of a dungeon, 
 
 Than keep a corner in the thing I love 
 
 For other's uses.' 
 
 In all the more forcible passages of the play, in fact, Avhere mad 
 ungovernable jealousy and savage hate arouse the inborn fierceness 
 of the Moor's disposition, Mr. Phelps showed his superiority over the 
 Freneli rival now endeavouring to portray Shakespeare's creations at 
 the Princess's Tlieatre. JSTor must the pathos of the English tragedian 
 be overlooked in the comparison we are instituting. M. Fechter's 
 pathos is certainly not that of a Moor ; it is scarcely that of a man. 
 It is rather the maudlin and hysterical emotion of a hero of French 
 melodrama, who is continually whimpering and whining about his 
 mother. There is nothing masculine about it, nothing Avhicli stirs 
 the soul, nothing Avhich commands respect and inspires sympathy. 
 With Avhat poor effect, again, M. Fecliter utters the exi£uisite 
 lines — 
 
 ' now, for ever, 
 
 Farewell the tranquil mind, farewell content ! 
 
 Farewell the plumed troops, and the big wars, 
 
 That make ambition virtue ! 0, farewell ! 
 
 Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump, 
 
 The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife, 
 
 The royal banner ; and all quality, 
 
 Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war ! 
 
 And you mortal engines, whose rude throats 
 
 The immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit. 
 
 Farewell ! Othello's occupation's gone ! ' 
 
 " M. Fechter actually rises from his seat and declaims this passage 
 mucli as he ought to declaim the address to the Senate; Mr. Phelps, 
 on the contrary, although slightly overlooking its meditative ami 
 soliloquizing cliaracter, nevertheless utters it in a tone of heart-stirring 
 pathos, besides giving full effect to the mournful music which seems
 
 EIGHTEENTH SEASON, 1861— 18G2. 201 
 
 to echo through every line. But we need not continue our com- 
 parisons further. To sum up briefly, Mr. Phelps's performance of 
 Othello is as superior to j\I. Fechter's in all that constitutes liigh 
 intelligence and dramatic power as Shakespeare's Othello is in its 
 fulness to the base and mutilated reproduction put forth by Ducis." 
 
 " Othello was performed at this theatre on Saturday night, thus 
 giving the public an opportunity of witnessing still another reading of 
 this famous part, one, however, Avitli which they are already familiar, 
 for the Othello of Mr. Phelps has long been one of his favourite 
 characters, and one not unfrequently repeated to a Sadler's Wells 
 audience. Without of course any especial care having been bestowed 
 upon the present revival of this tragedy, it is placed upon the stage 
 with appropriate care, and the scenery and dresses, although not new, 
 are entirely in character, and the former painted expressly to illustrate 
 the play. Some of the scenery is beautiful in every respect, and 
 whenever exhibited deserves a word of notice. The earlier scenes in 
 Venice and the subsequent ones in the isle of Cyprus are quite in 
 keeping as well with local truth as with Shakespeare's text : of course 
 allowing the modern piactice to be a good one, Avhich transfers the 
 locality of the great scene in Act the Third from ' Before the Castle,' 
 as it is in Shakespeare, to an interior. Such changes are allowable. 
 Perhaps a fairer objection may be made to the gay and rather Parisian 
 arrangement of the bed-room scene. Mr. Phelps's Othello, which has 
 been played too often to call for criticism, is a sensible, broad reading 
 of the part ; a little more familiar in manner now in some of the 
 scenes than it used to be, but forcible, manly, and dignified in the 
 graver and moi'e important ones. His performance is marked by 
 intensity in the passages of deep feeling, and by energy in those 
 which are more demonstrative. He steers a middle course between 
 that view of the character which makes Othello yield at once to the 
 suggestions of lago, and that other which holds out against them till 
 thbj are clearly and obstinately laid before him. In the last act, the 
 fine elocution of Mr. Phelps enables him to conduct the business of 
 the scene with all the gravity and richness of poetic illustration that 
 Shakespeare has thrown into it, giving it the dignified air of tragedy 
 rather than that of rapid action, which must characterize it when 
 many of the more imaginative jjassages and lines which cannot be 
 omitted without disturbing our ideas and outraging our ears, so accus- 
 tomed to their beauty, are left out. It is the privilege of high Tragedy 
 to be somewhat rhetorical, even in moments of the deepest jiassion. 
 In some of the patlietic speeches which accompany and follow the 
 death of Desdemona, the acting of Mr. Phelps could scarcely bo 
 surpassed. He makes his audience feel rather than perceive the 
 poetry of the situation in its highest sense. 
 
 " A new lago from the American theatres made his appearance on 
 the occasion. Mr. Conway is evidently a j)ractical actor, thoroughly 
 acquainted with stage business, and has clearly taken great pains in
 
 202 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 the study of the character. His manner, however, is characterized hy 
 too great familiarity, and a sort of homely style of delivering the 
 speeches, that at times has an effect injurious to the gravity of the 
 circumstances by which he is surrounded. He cannot be said to 
 realize the wily Italian, nor in a poetic sense the persuasive honesty 
 of lago. ISTeither the Cassio of Mr. Villiers, nor the Rodeiigo of Mr. 
 Edmund Phelps, contributed to tlie success with which the represent- 
 ation was attended. Sadler's Wells, as a Shakespearean theatre, is an 
 admirable school of acting, but should not be rendered one in an 
 elementary sense. The new actress, Mrs. James Rodgers, played 
 Desdemona with a little too much elaboration in the earlier scenes, 
 but displayed so much feeling, and such a sense of dramatic propriety 
 in the later ones, that she cannot fail to prove an acceptable addition 
 to the company. The Emilia of Miss Atkinson was marked by an 
 admirable reading, and an amount of sensibility as well as power when 
 required, that gave the highest importance to the character. Her 
 acting on the discovery of Desdeaioua's death was full of expression, 
 and elevated Emilia, who is too often represented as a mere vixen, 
 into a more fitting companion for the ' gentle lady married to the 
 Moor.' Mr. Phelps was called for at the end of the third act, but 
 did not appear. At the end of the tragedy, however, he did so, 
 in reply to an irresistible demand, and was most enthusiastically 
 greeted." 
 
 On the 6th November, Second Part of Henry IV. ; 9th, 
 Winter's Tale; and on 13tb, a new piece of domesticity, entitled 
 Doing for the Best, was produced, in which Phelps played Dick 
 Stubbs, a carpenter, something that Robson might have done, 
 but which was of too slight a nature for him. It was successful 
 as a piece of acting, but his audiences had been accustomed to 
 have him through five long acts generally, and did not care for 
 two. It must be admitted the piece did not draw money, and it 
 was soon withdraAvn. 
 
 On the 23rd, Pichard III. was produced, for the first time for 
 many years, and Colley Gibber's version was chosen, not the 
 pure Shakespearean text.* 
 
 On 28th, John Bull was done, his son Edmund again playing 
 Hon. Tom Shuffleton with success. On 4th December, The 
 Merry Wives of Windsor was acted, Edmund playing Master 
 Slender. On 7th, King Lear. On Boxing and two following 
 
 * For this I hold myself responsible, as, having seen Mrs. Warner's 
 magnificent performance of Queen Margaret, 1 told him I was quite certain 
 Miss Atkinson could not act it. — W. M. P.
 
 CLOSE OF HIS MANAGEMENT. 203 
 
 nights Fazio was acted ; and on SOtb and 31st, The Stranger, 
 Edmund playing Francis. 
 
 On 1st January, 1862, Ingomar, for three nights ; on 4th, 
 Richard III.; 9th, Man of the World; 11th, Handet; 15th, 
 Henr)^ VIII.; 18th, Richard III.; 22nd, Merchant of Venice; 
 25th, Bridal; 29th, The Winter's Tale. On 1st February, 
 Romeo and Juliet; 6th, Bridal, his son Edmund playing 
 Amintor; on 8th, Macbeth; on 12th, Bridal; on 15th, Damon 
 and Pythias, his son playing Pythias; on 21st, The Bridal; 
 22nd, Macbeth ; and on 26th, Damon and Pythias. 
 
 On 1st March he produced Pizarro, and this at the instance 
 of his nephew, Edmund playing Alonzo. 
 
 On 15th he took his benefit, playing The City Madam, and 
 closed the season on that night, Avhich was the last of his con- 
 nection with Sadler's Wells as manager. He had opened its 
 doors eighteen years before without any fanfaronade ; and now 
 that his work was done, and a whole generation of men and 
 women bettered by his labours, he closed them as quietly ; for on 
 neither occasion did he court recognition by the blare of trumpets. 
 
 Thus ended one of the most memorable managements on 
 record, and the last real dramatic college in England became a 
 thing of the past.* 
 
 We may be accused of having dealt rather largely in what 
 some will call the language of unlimited panegyric ; but when 
 one runs one's eyes over the plays produced, and considers the 
 manner thereof, one cannot come to any other conclusion than 
 that the work done was prodigious and altogether superlatively 
 heroic. 
 
 He had to aid him during nearly the whole of his career 
 there, as assistant stage manager and prompter, Mr. Williams, 
 who had been much with him during the latter part of his time 
 
 * Ever since those days plays liave been produced which have run 
 liundreds of nights ; and wlien that is tlie case how is it possible for the 
 members of tlie profession to improve in tlieir art, beini^: confined to tlie 
 same character so many nights in succession ? At his theatre somctinios 
 as maTiy as three phiys were acted in a week as first pieces, and the same 
 juay be said of after-pieces, as the copies of the tirni niglit bills of pretty 
 nearly everything he produced are in the possession of his nephew.
 
 204 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 in the provinces. He was an indefatigable assistant, and a 
 really good actor of what are termed second-rate Old Men. He 
 was specially with him at Exeter and Plymouth. 
 
 He had also from time to time three good scene-painters, 
 Frederick Fenton the principal, who painted a greater number 
 of " flats " than perhaps any other man had a chance of doing. 
 He was greatest, perhaps, at fine, bold, rugged scenery, moun- 
 tainous and rocky, such as the outside of Macbeth's castle, 
 the walls of Athens, and things similar, as well as grand 
 architectural scenery. Finlay, who was with him a great part 
 of the time, was best at woods and sylvan glades ; and last, 
 young James, who had studied under Beverley. He took a 
 position somewhat between the other two. Then as assistant 
 to all three was Charles Fenton, a useful artist, and a very 
 clever actor as well, being really great in small character parts. 
 He was, moreover, the Harlequin in the pantomimes during Mr. 
 Phelps's entire management. 
 
 A great deal has been said about the scenic splendour, &c., of 
 Charles Kean's revivals ; but although he went far beyond Mr. 
 Phelps, as a rule, in the plays which had been produced by 
 Mr. Macready, still he did nothing to surpass Mr. Phelps's 
 Antony and Cleopatra, Timon of Athens, and Pericles, Prince 
 of Tyre. Even his Sardanapalus, which, he said, cost him £3000 
 to get up, failed to compete in real scenic impressiveness with 
 Timon of Athens, which did not cost Mr. Phelps more than one- 
 fourth of that sum. Unlimited disbursement does not necessarily 
 insure art excellence. With regard to the effects produced by 
 the supers * (whom he drilled until he got them to do all 
 he wanted, and he never had more than seventy even in his 
 Roman mobs), he so grouped them that they produced as great 
 an effect as double that number did on Drury Lane stage. 
 
 The effect, again, produced by grouping in what is usually 
 termed the dagger scene, in Macbeth, after the murder is com- 
 mitted, and the whole of the inmates of the castle are aroused 
 
 * To seem to be discontented and real grumblers was the effort of every 
 man of them, and they succeeded well ; and I remember the eflect was 
 especially grand in Coriolanus, when he looked down upon them from the 
 steps he had mounted, and they raised their staves on expelling him from 
 the city.— W. M. P.
 
 HIS ATTITUDE TOWARDS THE PRESS. 205 
 
 by Macduff, was surpassingly fine. The first night the entire 
 audience rose at it. 
 
 He kept the entire Press at arm's-length during the whole of 
 his management. Whatever was written of him was unbiassed 
 by friendship, and in no way influenced by him. He never 
 invited one of the critics to his house or met them elsewhere. 
 He rarely read any of their remarks, saying that he had perfect 
 confidence in his own judgment, and never did anything with- 
 out first having duly considered and well weighed it in his 
 own mind ; and that what he did lay between him and the 
 public at large, and not between him and any clique of critics, 
 however pretentious and clever. Were he to attempt to please 
 every individual who differed from him, he suspected he might 
 do nothing else, and in the end please no one. This spirit of 
 independence was one of his most unmistakable attributes, and 
 Tomlins, in his notice of the close of his management — inserted 
 further on — refers to this in anything but a contented tone. 
 
 Nearly all the best of our portrait painters and sculptors tried 
 to cret him to sit to them from time to time, but up to this 
 period he never would go through the bother except to one 
 young artist, related to the family, who drew a portrait of him 
 on stone, from which one hundred copies only were struck off 
 for private circulation. Of a Hke nature was the drawing taken 
 somewhat earlier by C. Baugniet, the famous Flemi.sh artist. 
 His portrait had been taken by the daguerreotype process, and 
 he had sat several times to photographers, some of whom suc- 
 ceeded in producing fair likenesses. 
 
 In the following passage Mr. May Phelps speaks in his own 
 person : — 
 
 " Now as to the cause of his giving up management and 
 closing the theatre so suddenly as he did, and which I am inclined 
 to think never would have happened but for what I am about 
 to relate (and in doing this I must speak somewhat of myself), 
 and he would have ended his career in the old theatre, or a new 
 one on its site, or some other in the immediate neighbourhood 
 (which had been already twice in contemplation at different 
 periods, and then given up because the title to the ground on 
 each occasion was considered defective,— they were both in 
 the main road near the Angel, Islington), and would no doubt
 
 206 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 have produced the plays he afterwards did at Drury Lane, 
 under F. B. Chatterton's lesseeship, as well as others which 
 he had often talked of doing of the Elizabethan jDoets, say 
 Manfred, Faust, Volj3one, or the Fox, The Broken Heart, 
 Richard II., Troilus and Cressida, and Henry VI. But one 
 fine dry morning in March, when a bitter north-east wind 
 was blowing, his wife and son Edmund came to me at my place 
 of business, at 6, Crosby Square, E.G., much to my astonishment, 
 for she had never been there before, and I could not imagine 
 what could possibly be the cause of her coming then (although 
 unfortunately I have a very vivid recollection at this moment of 
 the effect of it on myself, for it laid me on a sick bed for three 
 weeks, and confined me to the house for three more), until she 
 communicated to me the following : — * I've left Pa ' (as she alsvays 
 styled him when speaking to me) ' at home in a most excited 
 state, crying and saying that he's ruined, and will never be fit 
 for anything again. He does not know I've come to you, but 
 do come in as you go home and see if you can help him out of 
 his difficulty, vdiatever it may be ; we can get nothing from him 
 beyond what I've told you.' I went out into the square with 
 her without my overcoat, and stupidly walked with them to the 
 Bank, which gave me the cold above hinted at, and an attack of 
 lumbago, which at that time I was very subject to. I desired 
 her to ask him to meet me in his private room at the theatre at 
 seven o'clock (he was not acting that night). I turned matters 
 over in my mind to try and see if I could possibly hit on any- 
 thing that could have occurred to him beyond what I was 
 acquainted with. I knew that his acting manager, his old friend 
 Malone Raymond, was really fit for nothing, and that the double 
 duty was trying him very much, and that he had been robbed 
 right and left by his box book-keeper, whom he had fool- 
 ishly trusted with between £150 and £200 in his hands at 
 one time ; and that although he was getting all the profit that 
 was made, yet with what he had laid out in. decorating the 
 theatre, on taking a new lease, and one thing and another, he 
 had not made more during the last two years than when Mr. 
 Greenwood was with him, and takinsf a share. On sfoinof to the 
 theatre I called on his medical man, who was also my own, and 
 he made a communication to me which partly explained matters.
 
 THE REASON OF HIS RETIREMENT. 207 
 
 He had come to the conclusion a short time before that my 
 aunt had unmistakably a cancer forming (already referred to in 
 my opening), but which to that time had only been supposed to 
 be a tumour. I, on his telling me of it, told him I considered 
 he was in duty bound to tell my uncle on the first favourable 
 opportunity, and it appeared he had done so that morning, and 
 so I was jDartly prepared to meet him, as I felt sure this was 
 the cause of his saying what he had to his wife. When I entered 
 the room he was pacing up and down in a very excited manner, 
 which I at once met by putting on a bolder front than I really 
 felt, and demanded to know whatever was the cause of his 
 excitement. He commenced by telling me what I already knew, 
 and which he said he dared not tell his wife, that his career was 
 all over, he would never be fit for anything again, and such-like 
 expressions. I could well understand the knock-down blow it 
 was to him, seeing how dear they had been to one another. No 
 one had ever dressed him but herself from the opening of Sadler's 
 Wells, either in town or out. Of course she had a man-servant 
 to wait on her, and put on his armour in those characters re- 
 quiring it, I saw that he was in my hands like a child, for he 
 said, ' IVJiat am I to do?' ' This,' said I without any hesitation : 
 'close the theatre to-morrow week (put up your notice to- 
 morrow), give up management, and let this house for the 
 remainder of your lease. It is high time you had some rest ; 
 Macready retired at your age altogether. You say you cannot 
 go on taking the onus on your own shoulders of producing any- 
 thing fresh ; go in for acting only, and a little stage manage- 
 ment when you feel incHned. You have a very comprehensive 
 Hpertoire in Comedy ; give up the Macbeths and Othellos, and 
 go on with the Sir Peter Teazles and such-like; you'll be able 
 to play them as long as you have your health, and gain sufficient 
 by it to live on in your accustomed style.' 
 
 "This had the desired effect, and before I left him he Avas a 
 Uttle composed, and said he would carry out my programme. 
 When I first saw him he threw himself into a chair and sobbed 
 like a child, and shook like an aspen leaf. Now, Richard was 
 somewhat himself again; but it knocked me quite over, for I 
 was of as nervous a temperament as himself, and I I'elt for his 
 sufferings almost as much as if they had been my own."
 
 208 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 The house was fortunately already let for the summer season 
 (for the performance of operettas, &c.) to a Captain Horton 
 Rhys. 
 
 In the summer he played at the Standard and in the pro- 
 vinces, notably at Liverpool ; and the Porcivpim, a Liverpool paper, 
 of 23rd August, 1862, contained the following criticism on him: — 
 
 " There has been another dramatic Avatar in Liverpool. Play-goers 
 — long starved upon a meagre allowance, consisting of a brief round 
 of mediocre stars, with the interstices filled up by wretched American 
 pretenders — have discovered that there is yet another artist on the 
 English stage well qualified to maintain its ancient glory. The public, 
 long inured by spiritless management to the utmost indifference to 
 theatricals, have again been roused to good old-fashioned enthusiasm. 
 The return of Mr. Phelps in October is awaited with real interest. 
 Every amateur has turned Phelpsite, and the only difference of 
 opinion is as to which is the finer performance — Sir Pertinax jVIac- 
 sycophant or Bertuccio. 
 
 " Either might take a place beside the greatest triumphs of the 
 stage, and would have lived for ever in our literature had they be'en 
 represented before criticism died out. AVe ourselves give the palm to 
 Sir Pertinax, because it is a much better part. The sordid, ambitious 
 old Scotchman of Macklin's malicious comedy is indeed one of the 
 finest parts in the range of the drama, and to say so is to pay the 
 highest tribute to Mr. Piielps's performance of it, for there is no 
 distinction between Sir Pertinax and him when he is playing the 
 character. Mr. Phelps makes it his first business to he whatever he 
 plays. This is one great secret of his almost invariable success. In 
 nearly all his pieces, and j^aj* excellence in this, it seems quite unnatural 
 to discuss what he makes of a part or how he treats it. There is 
 nothing objective about his acting — it is intensely subjective. All 
 such expressions as ' handling,' ' rendering,' ' conception,' ' execution,' 
 and the like, seem out of place. You may dislike Sir Pertinax or 
 Bertuccio, but it never occurs to you that either can be anything 
 different from what you see when Mr, Phelps is playing it. 
 
 " It is important, too, to notice — not invidiously, but distinctly — 
 how this distinguishes between bun and other actors quite as clever 
 at assumption, l^o man on the stage, perhaps, has such infinite power 
 of varying his personality as Mr. Wigan, and no man is more exactly 
 every character he plays ; but Jds strong point is minuteness, while 
 Mr. Phelps's is thoroughness. The critic can discern, in that general 
 result of perfect assumption which delights the public in Mr. "\Vigan, 
 an infinity of detail and finish. The artist has the part always, as it 
 were, in his hand, — is always, as it were, ' using his antennce,' — and 
 makiuf everything of it that exact imitation of details can accom- 
 plish under the direction of a sound conception, Now, Mr. Phelps 
 is either less indebted to art or conceals it better. He has certain
 
 THE "PORCUPIXE" OX HIS ACTIXG. 209 
 
 actions which accompany him through every part — as, for example, 
 ■when in passion, the rummaging of his chest, and the swinging, nervous, 
 firm, rapid pacing of the stage, with a slightly oscillatory motion of 
 his head. Any part made up merely of finish — except, indeed, such 
 eccentrics as the senile Justice Shallow — would be quite out of his range. 
 It would be hopeless for him to attempt such a character as Prosper 
 in The Scrap of Paper. But for this deficiency in finish Mr. Phelps 
 more than compensates hj iwiuer and intensity. These indeed seem, for 
 they are actions that a man might play, but he has that within which 
 impels and animates his whole being with a wonderful force of reality, 
 and takes all imaginations captive with its truth and force. He can 
 dispense with much detail, for he has a genius for heing Avhich rises 
 above any genius for acting, and any character, in itself worth repre- 
 sentation, is sure to gain infinitely from Mr. Phelps's personification. 
 He is sure to be it more thoroughly than even the author would have 
 thought possible, and the intense reality of his assumption will strike 
 out a thousand flashes which irradiate the part with a vividness never 
 to be obtained by mere objective finish. Thus even Brutus, Coriolanus, 
 and Bottom the Weaver gain new force and power from the originality 
 of his realizations. Much more does Sir Pertinax Macsycophant, 
 which, after carefully reviewing the criticisms on Macklin, Cooke, 
 and Yandenhofi:, we are strongly disposed to believe has never been 
 so well acted as by Mr. Macready's great lieutenant. 
 
 " Acting such as this would ruin, by its very intensity, an untruthful 
 character, but it heightens into absolute reality such a true one as 
 Macklin's ' true-born Scotchman.' It is pleasant to notice how ex- 
 quisitely the great earnestness and sincerity of the actor strengthens 
 the caustic though unconscious humour of the old Scot's lecture to 
 his son on patriotism. It even adds cent, per cent, to the conscious 
 liumour of the unctuous description of his matrimonial forays among 
 the Methodists. It raises, quite justifiably, to something very like 
 tragedy the passionate scenes in which the headstrong and avaricious 
 ' man of the world ' is brought face to face with the frustration of his 
 worldly schemes. K'ay, more, it renders curiously enjoyable the scene 
 in which Sir Pertinax proposes to the chaplain to suggest to Egerton 
 the seduction of Constantia, and offers as an inducement the reversion 
 of her charms in lawful wedlock. Delivered in a cold-blooded manner, 
 the proposition would be horribly repulsive, but there sits the father 
 vibrating with passionate dread of the ruin of his son's prospects and 
 liis own ambition, and too frenzied on that account even to catch a 
 glimpse of any other consideration. Black-hearted as by implication 
 lie must be, it is impossible to check a certain feeling for him. In 
 the very midst of liis unscrupulous villainy, his tremendous earnest- 
 ness takes our human sympathies by stoim. When this last liope 
 fails liiiii, lie overwJiehns the virtuous chaplain with denunciations of 
 his jiriiiciplcs ; and ])er]iaps this passage is one of the mof^t racy, subtle, 
 and duuljle-edged botli in writing and acting on the mndeiii stage. 
 It is difficult to say who is to play it when Mr. Phelps has ;.'"ne, Ijut
 
 210 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 surely siicli a marvellous piece of comedy has in it the essence of 
 immortality. 
 
 " Space forbids lis to expatiate, but we must do justice to the 
 copiousness and vis of Mr. Phelps's dramatic resource ; because it may 
 otherwise be supposed that he altogether substitutes rough vigour for 
 careful finish. On the contrary, Mr. Phelps is a most effective master 
 of the art of working up. To see this, it is only necessary to read over 
 any part in which he has lately appeared. The hits he makes by 
 pauses, pacings, glances, chuckles, and changes of tone are triumphs 
 of stage play, and there are many touches as subtle as they are 
 striking. For example, Mr. Phelps never says ' My lord ' in reference 
 to his dependant. Lord Lumbercourt, in his absence, without ironically 
 indicating the relations which subsist between them. To conclude, 
 Mr. Phelps's Scotch is almost perfection, but not quite. We doubt, for 
 instance, whether the ' to ' of the infinitive is pronounced by Scotch- 
 men Avith the same provincialism (hdl) as ' to ' the preposition. 
 
 " The part of Bertuccio in The Fool's Eevenge is but little inferior 
 to Sir Pertinax as a performance ; but the piece is heavy. The last 
 act of the play, like the marvellous fourth act of The Man of the 
 "World, proves that, in depicting the effect of strong passion on the 
 frame, — Avhich is one great part of the tragedian's art, though neither 
 Barry Sullivan, James Anderson, nor G. V. Brooke attempt it much, 
 — Mr. Phelps has no rival." 
 
 Having succeeded in letting the theatre for the remainder of 
 his term to the gentleman already mentioned, Phelps agreed to 
 play a farewell engagement there of six or eight weeks, playing 
 one of his principal characters for the entire week to give the 
 new management a start ; and a good thing it was for them, for 
 the theatre was crowded every night. He took his farewell 
 benefit on 6th November, exactly sixteen years prior to his 
 death, and addressed the audience. There was no particular 
 stir made by him on the occasion, no announcement by para- 
 graphs in the newspapers, but a simple statement on the bill of 
 the day that it was his last appearance at that theatre, and that 
 he would address a few words to his friends. The play was 
 Julius Csesar. He acted Brutus ; Creswick, Cassius ; and his 
 son Edmund, Marc Antony. We insert notices of this per- 
 formance from the Morning Herald and Standard and the 
 Morning Advertiser, as well as an account of his giving up 
 management from the Times.
 
 — iS-5i'!g^"K.-'- 
 
 \ 
 
 M^ PHELPS AS BRUTUS . 
 TroTTi an Oil Painting m possession of his Daughter.
 
 THE "MORNING HERALD" ON BRUTUS. 211 
 
 Sadler's Wells. 
 
 "Mr. Phelps concluded his series of farewell performances on Friday 
 evening;, with Brutus in Julius Caesar — a character which admirably 
 Ijefits his solemn and earnest style and his profound sentiments. 
 Perhaps his enthusiastic and expectant audience w^ould have preferred 
 a more stirring and melodramatic part — such as Macbeth, Otiiello, or 
 Eichard III. (for these, though Shakespeare's, are melodramatic) — to 
 lend their well-inclined tongues still further opportunity for boisterous 
 acclamation. Brutus, indeed, is one of the most difhcult and 'up- 
 hill ' characters in the Shakespearean drama to render what is called 
 ' telling' on the stage, and is altogether the most classical delineation 
 of the poet, and that Avhich is freest from the leaven of the melo- 
 dramatic element. The irritability and veering passions of Cassius, 
 and the smothered fire of Antony, breaking out at last into a volcano, 
 necessarily take away much of the applause from the calmness and 
 nobility of Brutus, Avhich, indeed, so few are competent to realize with 
 any effect. For this reason many actors, Macready among them, for 
 tlie most part preferred impersonating Cassius, as being most effective 
 in the performance, and most likely to elicit general approbation. 
 !Mr. Phelps, nevertheless, we think, was right in selecting Brutus in 
 preference to Cassius for his final farewell performance, as being better 
 suited to his stately and impressive manner and the suavity and 
 grandeur of his declamation. Other characters might have awakened 
 louder and more frequent bursts of applause ; none could have com- 
 manded profounder veneration for the scholarly attainments of the 
 actor, nor more thorough conviction of his eminent tragic powers. In 
 two scenes Mr. Phelps was especially fine — in the quarrel between 
 Brutus and Cassius, and in the scene with the boy Lucius, wdien he 
 falls asleep while playing and singing. Both were inimitable in very 
 different ways. The latter could not be surpassed for its gentleness 
 and tenderness. The scene with Cajsar's Ghost, too, which follows, • 
 was most admirable. Mr. Phelps was recalled at the fall of the 
 curtain, and was received with uproarious acclamations. 
 
 " Mr. Phelps's secession from the Sadler's Wells Theatre will work 
 a great change in the tastes of the inhaljitants of the neighbourhood. 
 For years nothing was presented to the lovers of acting but the legi- 
 timate drama. The hot-bed and prurient concoctions of the French 
 stage, and the insipid prtuluctions of the modern English, were alike 
 eschewed. The little temple at Islington maintained a high and un- 
 sullied name when all other theatres in the metropolis were falling into 
 a barren reputation, and looked for nothing beyond momentary success. 
 Mr. Phelps unfurled the banner of Shakespeare at a time when 
 Shakespeare was going out of fashion, either tiirough lack of actors or 
 through lack of taste. It is to be regretted that the progress of the 
 good work should be suddeidy stoppf(l from whatevi-r cause, and tliat 
 the artist-manager should be compelled to abdicate at tin; moment
 
 212 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 when he earned most the praises of his fellow-artists. Henceforward 
 Mr. Phelps will shine as a performer on the stage alone. In tliat 
 capacity his friends will still have the opportunity of bestowing their 
 applause." 
 
 " On Thursday evening an event took place which is of some con- 
 siderable note in the dramatic world, and ought not to be passed over 
 in silence, although, not receiving any official notice of the fact, no 
 blame can attach to those who do pass it over. 
 
 "The career of Sadler's Wells Theatre, under the management of 
 Mr. Phelps, is a matter of art and literature, and as such is worthy of 
 note in the history of the century. On the breaking up of the mono- 
 poly of the two large theatres, and the extension of the lioerty of acting 
 the regular drama in the suburbs, Mr. Phelps was the very first to 
 take advantage of the change in the law, and in 1844 made the follow- 
 ing announcement : — ' Mrs. Warner and Mr. Phelps have embarked in 
 the management and performance of Sadler's Wells Theatre, in the 
 hope of eventually rendering it what a theatre ought to be — a place for 
 justly representiug the works of our great dramatic poets. This under- 
 taking is commenced at a time when the stages which have been 
 exclusively called " l^ational " are closed, or devoted to very different 
 objects from that of presenting the real drama of England, and when 
 the law has placed all theatres upon an equal footing of security and 
 respectability, leaving no difference except in the object and conduct 
 of the management.' 
 
 " We have no occasion to go over the history of the theatre, for we 
 have always faithfully chronicled its admirable productions, and must 
 have assisted greatly in giving that publicity to it which is so essential 
 to such an undertaking ; and if actors ever carried their consideration 
 beyond their own stages, sucli services from the Press would be more 
 frequently acknowledged. The very liberty to act was gained by the 
 joint etforts of the Liberal Press, and the actors would never have 
 obtained this liberty without such aid. 
 
 " The drawing to a close of a career so honourable, useful, and enter- 
 taining as that of Mr. Phelps, as a manager, must not be allowed to 
 pass unnoticed ; and, consequently, we visited the theatre, but were 
 unable' to get in, for, though one of the worst nights we ever remember 
 to have been out in, the theatre was crowded to the utmost, many 
 persons being contented to stand in the lobbies. The play selected 
 Avas Julius Caisar, Mr. Phelps enacting Brutus ; his son. Marc Antony ; 
 and Mr. Creswick, Cassius, Mr. Phelps's performance of the philo- 
 ?ophic hero is well known to Shakespearean admirers, and need not be 
 descanted upon. It admirably suits his sententious and pregnant style. 
 
 " The interest was centred in his farewell speech, which he de- 
 livered at tlie end of the play, and a note of which we have been 
 favoured with. It ran as follows : — 
 
 " ' Ladies and Gentlemen,- — It is just possible there may be amongst 
 you some few who will remember what this theatre was nineteen years
 
 FAREWELL SPEECH AT SADLER'S WELLS. 213 
 
 ago, but the majority of those assembled here to-night may require 
 to be told that it was devoted to the exhibition of a verj^ low class 
 of drama. "When Mr. ]\Iacready ceased being manager of Drury 
 Lane Theatre, in 1843, many ladies and gentlemen who had been 
 members of his company were left without a stage on which their 
 talents could be employed. Amongst the number were myself and 
 a ladj-, now no more, Mrs. "Warner. Having been given to under- 
 stand that the then managers of this theatre were about to abandon 
 it, an arrangement was made, and myself and Mrs. Warner assumed 
 its directorship. About the same time, or rather before, an alteration 
 was made in the law relating to theatres. IMost of you, doubtless, 
 are aware that formerly, by virtue of their j^atents, Drury Lane, 
 Covent Garden, and the Haymarket were the only theatres allowed 
 to act Shakespeare and the high-class drama, usually termed legiti- 
 mate. The restrictions preventing other theatres from so doing were 
 now removed, and after some consideration, myself and Mrs. AVarner 
 issued an address to the public. Our attempt to" conduct a theatre 
 of a class such as this theatre then was, upon such principles, was 
 considered generally to be Quixotic in the extreme, and a fortnight 
 was about the time allowed us by those of the Press and others who 
 deemed themselves judges in such matters. In a short time ]\Irs. 
 "Warner withdrew, and I was left alone in the management. I at once 
 determined to make it the object of my life and the end of my manage- 
 ment to represent the whole of Shakespeare's plays. I have succeeded 
 in placing upon the stage thirty-four of them, and they have been 
 acted between three and four thousand nights. I added to the name 
 of Shakespeare those of Massinger, Beaumont and Fletcher, Forde, 
 Otway, Webster, amongst tlie elder dramatists ; and amongst more 
 modern names those of Colman the elder, David Garrick, Colnian the 
 younger, Sheridan, and, later still. Lord Byron, Sergeant Talfourd, Sir 
 Bulwer Lytton, Sheridan Knowles, &c. The most successful and most 
 meritorious of the new plays I have produced were those written by 
 the late Kev. James White, amongst which Feudal Times and .John 
 Saville will bear comparison with any plays of modern date. I think 
 you will allow that, by the continued exhibition of tlie jtlays of such 
 men for a period of nearly twenty yeais, I have fuliilled the promise 
 made in my first address, namely, by the exalted nature of the enter- 
 tainments to raise the good taste of the audience. Antl, while upon the 
 subject of new plays, let me mention an extraordinary fact. I have 
 received, during the period of my management, hundri'ds, I believe I 
 may say thousands, — for I verily believe they would amount to two 
 thousand manuscript i)lays — from all classes of society ; all, with a few 
 exceptions, either not adapted for my tlieatre, or altogether useless for 
 stage purposes. Altliough I have given out of the limited means 
 afforded by a small theatre, demanding but moderate prices for adinis- 
 f>ion, as much as £400 for a new play, I have been able to procure l)ut 
 few ; yet in no one instance have I refuseil to purchaser any drama, 
 whatever its price or cost of production, which my judgment told me
 
 214 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 Avould succeed in acting. Though new plays have been so difficult to 
 procure, I have never but once had recourse to the French. Last 
 season, at the request of many friends and patrons, I acted Louis XL ; 
 so that, in this matter also, I have redeemed the promise made in my 
 first appeal to the public to confine the entertainments of this theatre 
 to plays selected from the first stock dramas in the world — reinforced 
 by such new ones as were procurable. The production of thirty-four 
 plays of Shakespeare, some of which have been considered unactable, 
 is a feat, I believe, never before attempted by any manager— at least 
 in modern times. It has been to me a labour of love — an object of 
 pride rather than a source of profit ; for when I tell you that the single 
 play of Pericles cost in its production XIOOO, and the expense lavished 
 upon the others being very great, you will easily perceive how im- 
 possible it was, in such a theatre as this, that my labour should be 
 rewarded by large pecuniary profits. My reasons for resigning the post 
 I have so long held maj' be told in a few w^ords. Until within the 
 last two years I was greatly assisted by my late partner, Mr. Green- 
 wood, who transacted all the commercial business of the establish- 
 ment; he thinking proper to retire, the Avhole devolved upon myself. I 
 found the work more than I could accomplish, having due regard to my 
 health ; and an opportunity occiirring, I have transferred my interest 
 in the theatre to another management, at the head of which is an 
 accomplished lady. I feel confident it is a management that, with a 
 little experience, will expand into something extremely good and 
 pleasant, and that it will keep unsoiled the hard-earned reputation of 
 ISadler's Wells. Before I conclude, allow me to observe how much I 
 have been gratified in having been the means of bringing to this house 
 a large body of young men — men, most of whom have received their 
 first theatrical impressions in witnessing the plays of Shakespeare. 
 The amusements of the people are a very important item in the com- 
 position of our social system. Dramatic representations have, and I 
 believe in some form or other always will stand in the foremost rank 
 of those amusements ; and it is surely better that the young, who are 
 so easily and strongly impressed by them, shoidd receive those impres- 
 sions from the plays of Shakespeare rather than from sensation dramas, 
 or translations from the French of questionable morality. And now, 
 ladies and gentlemen, having long endeavoured to deserve your respect, 
 I feel that I leave you accompanied by good wishes to some future 
 scene of action, and respectfully bid you farewell.' 
 
 " We need hardly say that the demonstration of feeling was uni- 
 versal, and apparently most sincere ; and thus closed a career worthy 
 of the largest theatre in London, and which would have been carried 
 on at the finest of our structures, had the taste of the age been of a 
 more elevated and refined kind." 
 
 " Mv. Phelps's engagement at Sadler's Wells Theatre has now come to 
 an end, and the house, still under the management of Miss Lucette, 
 will, it seems, be devoted for some time to the performance of opera,
 
 THE "TIMES" ON HIS MANAGEMENT. 215 
 
 tlie first in the series of lyrical works being II Trovatore, supported 
 by a company comprising the names of H. Ilaigli, E. Rosenthal, 
 Oliver Summers, Madame Tonnelier, and others. 
 
 " Although J\ir. Phelps rethed from the management of Sadler's "Wells 
 Theatre early m the present year, it was not until last week, when he 
 finally took leave of a pulilic many members of which have groAvn up 
 from childhood to manhood during the period of his career, tliat his 
 connection with the establishment seemed really to have terminated. 
 With honest pride he was able to remind his audience of the very 
 great deal he has done in extending a knowledge of the Shakespearean 
 drama in the course of nineteen years ; and his statement that he had 
 produced no less than thirty-four of the plays of our great national 
 poet, will surprise all who recollect how small a proportion of Shake- 
 speare's works ordinarily finds a passage from the library to the stage. 
 But it was one of the most interesting features of Mr. Phelps's man- 
 agement, that he generally contrived once or twice in the year to place 
 upon his boards some play which had long been assigned to tlie closet 
 only, and thus he was not only the missionary of dramatic ' legitimacy ' 
 to the inhabitants of Pentonville and its neighbourhood, but he offered 
 to the literary world in general an opportunity of witnessing a theatrical 
 representation of works of literary celebrity, which, if not seen at 
 Sadler's Wells, could not be seen at all. The doubtfiil play Pericles, 
 Timou of Athens, Antony and Cleopatra (with Miss Glyn's beautiful 
 impersonation of the Egyptian queen), and many other remarkable 
 ' revivals,' served to show how willingly Mr. Phelps deviated from the 
 beaten track in order to diffuse a knowdedge of the great poet, to the 
 illustration of whom he had devoted his talents and his energies. Let 
 it be added that all the pieces he revived were admirably executed. 
 
 " His company, though not, for the most part, composed of actors 
 celebrated at the West End of the town, were drilled with consunnuate 
 tact into a high degree of efficiency, — individuals were skilfully made 
 subservient to the general effect, — and during the joint reign of Mr. 
 Phelps and Mr. Greenwood (who directed the commercial part of the 
 business) no one ever quitted Sadler's Wells after the conclusion of a 
 performance, without the conviction that he had devoted his evening 
 to a highly intellectual entertainment, most conscientiously prepared. 
 In his histrionic cai)acity, Mr. Phelps has left deeply impressed upon 
 the minds of the pu])lic many theatrical types of his own creation tliat 
 will not be easily obliterated. liottom, in The Midsummer Night's 
 Dream (so different from aU previous conceptions of the character), 
 Justice Shallow, in the Second Part of Henry IV., Eton Adriano do 
 Armado in Love's Labour's Lost, and, above all, Sir I'ertinax, in 
 Macklin's comedy, which he alone maintains ui)on the stage, are sj^eci- 
 mens of original thought, carefully realized, that in their way coidd 
 scarcely be surpassed. Attention to decoration was also jti'oiniucnt 
 among Mr. Phelps's (pialilications, and though a stern uplioldcr of 
 legitimacy, lie never fell into tlie erroneous belief that Sliakes]»earo 
 is best honoured by shaljby scenery and dresses. Pericles, Timou,
 
 216 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 Antony and Cleopatra, with many other pieces, were attractive as 
 spectacles, and every play was well put on the stage. 
 
 " In the history of the English drama Mr. Phelps's management is 
 highly important, from the circumstance that it may be regarded as 
 the first significant result of that alteration of the law by which the 
 managers of the patent houses were deprived of their exclusive right 
 to represent the legitimate drama. Whether the virtual abolition of 
 the patents was followed by a few trifling displays of legitimacy in 
 fresh places, prior to the commencement of Mr. Phelps's enterprises, 
 we are not prepared to affirm or deny, but certainly the opening of 
 Sadler's "Wells by him and Mrs. Warner in the year 1844 was the 
 first mstance of the regular employment of a minor theatre for the per- 
 formance of the poetical drama. We may add, by way of conclusion, 
 that Mr. Phelps, who was the first to take advantage of theatrical free 
 trade, never used his advantage for any but the highest purposes, and 
 that he took with him to Sadler's Wells the principles which Mr. 
 Macready had adopted at Co vent Garden and Drury Lane. The 
 managerial predecessors of Mr. Macready had often acted like dogs in 
 the manger, neither playing the legitimate drama themselves nor allow- 
 ing it to he played by any one else; but Mr. Phelps, with the liberty 
 of doing whatever he pleased, rigidly confined himself during a period 
 of nineteen years to the maintenance of the highest form of the drama. 
 His labours were carried on in a comparatively obscure part of the 
 town, but his conscientious zeal must entitle him to universal 
 respect. " 
 
 After giving up possession to Captain Rhys, who purchased 
 all the scenery, &c., &c., Mr. Phelps never even entered the 
 Theatre Royal, Sadler's Wells, again, much less acted there, as 
 has been stated he did in one"'or two publications. 
 
 Herbert Steele, in 1852, wrote in the Dublin Commercial 
 Journal and Family Herald, after giving a long dissertation on 
 the play of Hamlet, as follows : — 
 
 " With all these faults, Hamlet is a character around which gathers 
 an intense interest and a singular love. From the first hour at which 
 we see him darkened in the ' nighted colour,' to the latest, when, kindly 
 to the last, he prevents Horatio's suicide, wo see the nobility, the 
 beauty of his soul shining through, and all the more remarkable even 
 through those flaws, which, like the rents in the family hut of Sixtus 
 v., but show the light the more gloriously. Our love and interest in 
 Hamlet is undying. I have been prompted to much of this careful 
 (though condensed) consideration of Hamlet's character by the playing 
 of Phelps. He presents Hamlet, in its artistic ensemble, better than 
 any actor I ever saw. Charles Kean is simply absurd in the part — 
 violates every rule of decency, and is intensely ridiculous. Macready
 
 HERBERT STEELE ON HA]\[LET, RICHELIEU, 217 
 
 ■was great in it ; but particular passages stood out too much : you 
 thought too frequently of Shakespeare's beautiful language, and too 
 rarely of the character he had conceived. Phelps emphatically avoids 
 this. The whole performance — erroneous as I think it in some parts, 
 wanting nature in some others — is still a completed, harmonized piece 
 of acting, showing original conception and great artistic skill and self- 
 denial. Many ' points,' where other actors win loud applause, were 
 judiciously smoothed over by Phelps, and you felt the improvement 
 because it fixed your mind on the whole play. His ' readings ' through- 
 out were generally good. Macready had a great passage in ' Is it the 
 King ? ' and pfojMrli/ made it a prominent point. Phelps read it 
 wrong — speaking it tauntingly, and not eagerly. After the 'play' 
 Phelps was magnificent, really thrilling ; he sent the infection of 
 excitement through the house. 
 
 " This engagement of Phelps at the Queen's is a brave and commend- 
 able move on the part of Josephs. He could make brighter the 
 ' golden opinions ' he has won by it by bringing out a play by an 
 Irishman, and thus adding native genius to imported elocution ; and 
 Phelps could help him to a drama just aprojoos at present. Do you 
 remember the letters I wrote from London a few years ago ? I spoke 
 of The Florentines, a play produced by Phelps, and which * ran ' for 
 several nights. ' It was an excellent play, well digested in the scenes, 
 set down with as much modesty as cunning.' It was the fortune and 
 fate of Fair Rosamond, given in a happy Italian costume. Unlike 
 Hamlet's favourite piece, it ' pleased the million ' also, and gave the 
 Sadler's Wells house a help in good time. Mrs. \Yarner played the 
 heroine, and Phelps himself the chief male part. I did not know 
 then who wrote it, but I have since learned. The author is an Irish- 
 man ; more than that, he is now the first favourite of all our local 
 litterateurs, best loved of our Irish story-tellers ; and he is known to 
 us and to hundreds of the authors, artists, and amateurs here, as one 
 who lias merited as well as commanded success. You know whom I 
 mean — E. L. A. Berwick. The founder of the Goldsmith Club could 
 get an audience, if it were but for love of him alone ; but when, in 
 addition, we would have a first-rate artist on the boards, an elegant 
 little theatre, the cause of native talent, and the love of a pure, well- 
 formed, really poetic play — I think I might tell Josephs (and I will if 
 I see him) tliat he could not do a happier thing than bring it out. If 
 he does, you must come up to see it; I'll give you some dinners, at 
 least, and ' make you free ' of the * painted places of city life.' " 
 
 On Phelps's Richelieu, Werner, and Sir Giles Overreach, the 
 same critic wrote a week later :— 
 
 " But let me enjoy the 'joys I have,' if I cannot ' lly to uLliers ' as 
 yet but fancied. I have since seen Phelps in three characters : Eiclie<- 
 lieu, Werner, and Sir Giles Overreach. Kichelieu is one of the most 
 delicate and difficult characters on the stage. It admits of many
 
 218 LIFE-WOEK OF PHELPS. 
 
 interpretations. The old priest-noble is a hero ; a true hero in his lion 
 heart, intellectual ability, and constant effort ; but his manner has not 
 that stamp of simple courage which we have long linked with our 
 ideas of heroism. His path to power is tortuous, too ; while his mien is 
 manoeuvring and marked by something almost mean ; hence the neces- 
 sity for the actor shaping his thoughts, not merely his voice, gesture, 
 and bearing, to suit the subtle complex complexion of Richelieu's soul. 
 IMacready brought out boldly much of the attractive heroism of the 
 Cardinal ; even in the most ludicrous tricks done there was a dignity 
 — the dignity of strong purpose and steady aim — elevating the funniest 
 ' dodge ' above the level of farce. Calcraft, our late manager here, 
 was still more ' heroic ' than Macready ; though, inconsistently, the 
 comedy parts sank too low into burlesque. Phelps presents us chiefly 
 ' the fox,' the cunning old Cardinal ; one does not reverence him much, 
 biit you intensely admire his amazing ability. "With Phelps the ' hero ' 
 is Aveakened ; the man of mind, of intellectual subtlety, comes out 
 characteristically and consistently. Macready's and Phelps's conceptions 
 may both be right ; but the carrying out of both present marked 
 differences. Macready delivered some jmssages with grand effect ; you 
 marked the effect, yet I could not say they were erroneously executed. 
 Taken separately the passages were properly spoken ; but I do believe 
 that if any one passage, or any number of separate passages leave too 
 great and emphatic impression on you, an impression in any way 
 disturbing the idea of the whole drama, the artist has so far failed. 
 The presentation of a character, the full conveyance of what the author 
 meant by the play, is of more importance than the admirable and 
 beautiful delivery of any passage. (Any one who remembers The 
 Merchant of Venice will feel this ; the ' quality of mercy ' speech is 
 the most unreal on the stage, for nearly all the actresses emphasize it 
 too much — (even Helen Faucit) — often laying the stress on the word 
 mercy, which would be proper if the passage were isolated, but is false 
 when the passage is read with the play.) In Eichelieu Phelps avoids 
 this, as I said he did in Hamlet ; his conception omits too much the 
 heroism of Eichelieu, but the execution of the conception is excellent 
 and consistent. — N'ext I saw him in Werner, that powerfully painful 
 play. It is very saddening and annoying to watch a character like 
 Werner — noble, good, sensitive, beautiful exceedingly in soul, wronged, 
 affectionate, and loving ; yet side by side with that young, noble, 
 daring devil, Ulric, we cannot respect or like Werner ; and, strange 
 and sinful though it be, we sympathize thoroughly with Ulric. He is 
 an assassin ; a fierce, almost unloving son ; hard, cold, reckless, and 
 haughty ; but the innate devil of humanity prompts us to like him, 
 and we almost shudder to find ourselves forgiving all his crimes and 
 following every glance of his eye with an admiration that is almost 
 love. It is absolute agony to sit by and see Werner — the noble, the 
 heroic, the loving — so prostrated, so pitifully crushed by the side of 
 UMc ; crushed in soul and spirit — bending before the puissance of a 
 merciless man, who, at all risks, strongly hews out his own paths. In
 
 WERNER, AXD SIR GILES OVERREACH. 219 
 
 tins character Plielps Avas perfect. His performance of it is as noble a 
 Avork of art as ever came from the mind of man. JSTot a word, not a 
 thought, not an idea, is lost. Werner stands before you — • 
 
 ' a statued mind and naked heart ; ' 
 
 the very inmost throbbings of the man's soul are tremblingly revealed ; 
 it is no acting, it is perfect transformation. Phelps could not have 
 acted it so unless his whole being were imbued with the existence of 
 Werner ; he must have studied it long and felt it well before he could 
 present it with such complete power and intense reality as he did on 
 Tuesday night. — Wednesday night I saw him in Sir Giles Overreach — 
 that Richard III. of common life. The character is a possil)]e deform- 
 ity ; the monster is very exceptional, let us trust, but — it is probable. 
 We feel that a man might be a Sir Giles Overreach. Vulgar in Jiis 
 ambition, his means towards that end approach grandeur by their 
 subtlety and absolute beauty of adaptation. Euthless as is his malevo- 
 lence, it is not petty ; fearful as his hypocrisy, it is not mean. He 
 has but one good quality — courage ; he does win applause by his 
 matchless personal bravery. You think the human devil half redeemed 
 as you feel how reckless he is of life when revenge is hisobject; his 
 blood-thirstiness becomes almost heroic in its intensity. It is a great 
 character — a great conception — worthy of Shakespeare — true to life in 
 every Avord. How the low-born soul of the man appears in the 
 comments on his daughter's dress ; he would have wished it ' spangled 
 with flowers.' All through one feels the genius of IVIassinger — granted 
 a Sir Giles Overreach — he could not speak other than he does. In 
 this, as in the two others, my perfect realization of the characters comes 
 from Phelps ; the impression I had from closet study was strong 
 enough, but the Avords and looks of the actor seemed to bvrn them in, 
 never to be forgotten. His anger towards the end was terrible ; one 
 felt keen pity mingled with horror ; the quick changes from rage to 
 rejoicing, and then the downfall, when there comes on that awful 
 paralysis of soul, were thrilling ; as the eye of the till then uuawed 
 Avicked man Avanders in Avild Aveakness, seeing fearful visions of the 
 hearts he had broken. Then came that final shudder, Avhen the 
 daughter f(ir Avhom he had done all bends before his distraught gaze, 
 and the memory comes to tear his heart and scorch his soul. I would 
 scarcely wish to see it again ; I felt almost as liyron did seeing Kean 
 do it : the sight of Avickeduess so fearful, yet so painfully human, is 
 not ' good ' for the thought. It fills one Avith a strange shudder, and 
 brings ' thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls.' 
 
 " 1 liave thus seen Phelps in three of the most dissimilar characters, 
 and my summary is — He is far and away the greatest artist on the stage ; 
 in fact, one might say, the only great actor now left us. One feels 
 really grateful to a man Avho, Avith such perfect and beautiful jiower, 
 can present the subtlest sensations of the soul, and the decp(;st passions 
 of the heart. May he long live to convey to us the poetry of passion 
 and the heroism of Humanity ! "
 
 220 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 The following criticisms from the pen of John Oxenford, on 
 The Patrician's Daughter, The Tempest, Timon of Athens, and 
 the Second Part of King Henry IV,, appeared in the Times at 
 sundry dates : — 
 
 Sadler's Wells. 
 
 " This northern temple of the legitimate drama has made a great 
 acquisition, in the person of a lady from Edinburgh, named Addison, 
 who plays Mabel, in The Patrician's Daughter. There is something of 
 formahty and of crudity in her manner ; but this vanishes as she 
 warms up with the character, and she displays a depth of feeling, and 
 has a store of passion — hearty, vehement, strongly expressed — which 
 are by no means common with the present generation of actors. The 
 last act, in which Mabel dies, affords the grand opportunity, and here 
 her delirious manner, and her bursts of intense feeling, are very 
 remarkable. As a reader she is excellent. We carefully watched 
 her through all the phases of youthful enthusiasm, conventional pride, 
 and heart-rending grief, and all was interpreted with intelligence. In 
 her most passionate displays she never lost herself, but always worked 
 carefully. 
 
 " We were glad to make acquaintance once more with a tragedy the 
 beauties of which we were among the first to recognize, while Ave were 
 by no means insensible to its defects. There are passages in The 
 Patrician's Daughter of exquisite truth and pathos, — passages whicl 
 are worthy the pen of any writer, and which show a sense of human 
 nature remarkable in an age when the dramatic tendency is toAvards 
 mere abstraction. The great fault is the catastrophe of the fourth 
 act, in which Mordaunt, who is made a kind of democratic ideal, is 
 aUoAved to drop into a mere ruffian. This is the point Ave can never 
 forgive, and it stands out in harsh contrast, Avhen the acti;al injury 
 to Mordaunt is so beautifully described, and the characters of Mabel, 
 Lydia, and the old Earl so skilfully delineated. However, the very 
 charming line, uttered by the dying Mabel, 
 
 ' He might have pardoned me, but he chose vengeance,' 
 
 shoAvs that the author became fully sensible of the delinquency of his 
 hero, though he alloAved himself to be hurried into a sort of sympathy 
 during the bustle of the fourth act, and to make Mordaunt fancy that 
 he was fighting ' a battle for high principles.' The speeches on this 
 occasion Avere delivered by INfr. Phelps Avith great poAver and effect, 
 but would he not — he, the actor of genuine pathos — have preferred 
 something in which the kindliness of human nature was more 
 apparent ] 
 
 " Nevertheless, with all its draAvbacks, The Patrician's Daughter is a 
 production of extraordinary merit, written according to a ncAV principle, 
 and Avith a strong purpose, and abounding in instances of feeling and
 
 THE "TDIES"' ON THE TEMPEST, 221 
 
 of reflection that will render it permanent when many other cotem- 
 porary works will have proved ephemeral." 
 
 " Instead of searching the dark nooks and corners of the British 
 drama to find a play worthy of being made the grand spectacle of 
 his season, Mr. Phelps this year has recourse to the ever familiar 
 Tempest, which was revived last night with signal success. He pro- 
 duced it in excellent style several years ago, but tlie glories now have 
 nothing to do with the glories then. The scenery is from new 
 designs, the effects are newly contrived, — in short, the whole atfair is 
 new throughout. 
 
 " Earely do we see a piece so charmingly put upon the stage. It is 
 not that the scenery is of the most gorgeous and elaborate kind, but 
 the series of tableaux is preceded by a sort of poetic feeling that 
 thoroughly corresponds to the moral atmosphere of the drama, and 
 keeps the spectator in a pleasant state of magical illusion. The artist, 
 Mr. Fenton, has clearly marked upon his pictures that unity of place 
 which, in spite of the purely romantic nature of the personages, gives 
 such a classical form to The Tempest. All the views are evidently 
 from spots within a few yards of each other. Eocks of the same kind 
 perpetually hem in the same blue waters ; but nevertheless every 
 variety that is within the reach of composition is produced, and, the 
 natural objects generally being treated in a manner almost fantastic, 
 the constant difference is as striking as the constant similaritj'. You 
 may fancy the whole action taking place in the neighbourhood of 
 freshwater Bay, some new point of view being constantly selected, 
 while the character of the scenery remains unaltered. The first scene, 
 on the deck of the vessel, which is generally omitted, is restored on 
 the occasion of this revival, and a new " effect " is secured by the 
 increased fidelity to Shakespeare. A rocking ship, on the same prin- 
 ciple as the one which acquired such fame in Pericles, is introduced, 
 and falls to pieces with terrible accuracy, submerging the crew into a 
 carpet of rolhng waves. The same poetical feeling which seems to 
 have guided the whole production is shown here by the manner in 
 which all the roar ami hurry of the storm and the storm-stricken seems 
 to melt away like an unquiet dream, and leave the spectator in tranquil 
 contemplation of the group formed by the aged magician and his 
 docile child. 
 
 " Though, like all other works by Shakespeare, The Tempest is in- 
 variably cast with as much strength as the resources of a theatre will 
 afford, it is not a play to which one would generally look for remark- 
 able acting, save in the comic jtarts. Isevertholess, Mr. Phelps gave 
 such a refined interpretation of Prospero, especially in the later portion 
 of the piece, that he endowed him with unusual interest. A saint-liko 
 mildness seemed to counteract the sense of command in the potent 
 magician when he resolves to leave the scene of his magic reign, and 
 live among his fellow-mortals. IMiranda was i)layed with a great deal 
 of elegance and delicacy by the new actress, Miss Ebuiiie, l)ut she
 
 222 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 must have a character of more weight before she confirms the powerful 
 impression she made by her Julia. Unless her debut was most mis- 
 leading, she has another mission than that of portraying mere amiable 
 young ladies. Caliban was acted not only well, but with every sign 
 of a profound conception, by Mr. Barrett — a comedian whose merits 
 are beginning to be appreciated. The monster of the isle is often 
 made a mere roaring savage, but Mr. Barrett gave a sub-human aspect 
 to his gestures that completely corresponded to his abject and brutish 
 nature. Miss F. Hughes, though unequal in her singing, prettily 
 represented the delicate Ariel. Ferdinand, the prince of walkmg 
 gentlemen, — for certainly there is more in his walk than in his talk, 
 — was gracefully represented by Mr. Robinson ; and the task of 
 awakening the laughter of the audience was intrusted to Messrs. Ball 
 and Rae, who enacted Trinculo and Stephano with abundance of 
 practical drollery. 
 
 " A crowded audience welcomed with acclamations of delight this 
 best combination of Shakespeare and scenery." 
 
 "In 1851 the play-going world became indebted to Mr. Phelps for 
 bringing Timon of Athens back to the stage after an absence of some- 
 thing like thirty-five years. However, this bare statement hardly 
 expresses the extent of the obligation, for when it was revived in 
 1816 as a complete novelty it only 'ran' for about seven nights, 
 notwithstanding the excellent acting of Mr. Edmund Kean, some of 
 whose * points ' in the character of Timon are remembered at the 
 present day. Prior to that year Shakespeare's play had not been 
 acted at all since the Restoration of Charles II., but at long intervals 
 modified versions, by Shadwell and Cumberland, had successively 
 taken possession of the stage. In these versions the character of the 
 original play was greatly changed by the introeluction of new person- 
 ages and the effort to create a new interest. The piece played in 
 1816 was, materially, Shakespeare's, the alterations (made by the 
 Hon. George Lamb) being mere modifications to suit what was deemed 
 the taste of the age. 
 
 " The revival of Timon of Athens at Sadler's Wells in 1851 proved 
 very successful ; at least, we have every right to draw that inference 
 from its subsequent revival, with increased splendour, on Saturday 
 last. On a piece that had been only moderately fortunate the manager 
 would scarcely have risked such an outlay as must have been neces- 
 sary to produce a result so brilliant, — nor would so crowded an 
 audience have been assembled together to witness a performance 
 connected with the remembrance of a failure. The expectations of 
 the multitude, based on the reminiscences of the first revival, were 
 evidently great, and, let us add, they Avere not disappointed. The 
 M^anderer on the banks of the !New River who on Saturday night 
 heard tlie shouts resounding from that quaint-looking building which 
 is the home of Pentonville legitimacy, would scarcely have imagined
 
 ox TDIOX OF ATHENS, 223 
 
 that they celebrated the triumph of a play long voted unfit for 
 theatrical representation, however delightful to the literary student. 
 
 "The fact is, the reported impracticability of Timon of Athens, 
 though it may hold good -with reference to other theatres, scarcely 
 applies to its representation at Sadler's Wells. The total absence of 
 female interest, Avhich induced Shadwell to connect -Timon -with a 
 brace of ladies — one true, the other false — and Cumberland to provide 
 him Avith a dutiful daughter by way of mending the tale, has long 
 been deemed a fatal objection ; but those Avho would make it in 
 reference to Sadler's Wells have little notion of the popularity of 
 Mr, Phelps. Regarded in his own district not only as an eminent 
 tragedian, but also as a great dramatic reformer, he is literally vener- 
 ated by his public, and if he can be on the stage from the beginning 
 to the end of the piece so much the better. ' Female interest ' may be 
 deemed an essential to the drama by the effeminate denizens of the 
 AVest, but to the stern dramatic Puritan of Pentonville, who believes 
 in nothing but Shakespeare as interpreted by Mr. Phelps, the words 
 will sound light and frivolous. Timon, indeed, rules the stnge with a 
 most absolute despotism, and his imprecations are of the lengthiest ; 
 but, then, Mr. Phelps is Timon, and he who did not admire would 
 be a traitor to the cause of ' young legitimacy.' However, in case 
 some luckless heretic, unworthy of his neighbourhood, should, after 
 all, be inclined to grow tant sort peu weary at the long course of 
 reflective misanthropy, ample means are provided to gratify the love 
 of spectacle. After a series of Greek interiors, tastefully painted and 
 peopled with personages richly and appropriately attired — after a 
 series of classical landscapes, a moving picture representing the march 
 of Alcibia<les to Athens is introduced, and the whole concludes with 
 a beautiful seaside view, where the tomb of Timon is the conspicuous 
 object, before which the army of the invader is drawn up in reverence. 
 These decorations do infinite credit to the painter, Mr. Fenton, and if 
 some ultra-purists object to the employment of means of attraction not 
 set down by Shakespeare, who does not even bring the tomb of Timon 
 upon the stage, they should be reminded that a manager is compelled 
 to appeal to the taste of the general multitude, and that beyond the 
 limits of Pentonville there are numberless sightseers who would flock 
 to see a pageant, though they would listen coldly to the report of a 
 mere Shakespearean revival. As for the earlier decorations, though 
 less imposing in their character, they are marked by that poetical 
 propriety which distinguished IMr. Phelps's revival of The Tempest. 
 Athens, the city of ungrateful parasites, is ever conspicuous to the eye 
 with all its peculiarities of site and architecture, till Timon abandons 
 it for ever. Then comes the cave, surrouiuied with rocks and trees, 
 which, with the haggard figure of the misanthrope in the foreground, 
 forms one of the most effective combinations of desolation, mental 
 and pliysical, ever presented on tlie stage. 
 
 " Timon is one of I^Ir. l^lielps's most efTective characters. As Iho 
 wealthy prodigal he wear.s an aspect of high-bred liberality that gains
 
 224 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 respect even for reckless extravagance, and the first ebullitions of 
 indignation that vent themselves on the discovery of the general 
 ingratitude by which he is surrounded nicely indicate the sensitive 
 nature, just awakened to an unexpected and painful truth. The 
 curse at the end of the third act is grandly impressive ; the feeling 
 of wrong has kindled itself into a prophetic inspiration ; and the para- 
 sites shrink before their awful host as before a supernatural presence. 
 On Saturday this brought down the curtain wdth a tumiilt of applause. 
 Throughout the recluse life of the misanthrope, Mr. Phelps especially 
 seizes on the picturesque side of the character. Timon in front of 
 his cave is, as we have already said, first shown as a picturesque 
 object. The impression thus produced is maintained to the end. 
 Moreover, Mr. Phelps never loses sight of the inherent dignity of the 
 misanthrope. The contrast which he draAvs between himself and the 
 professed low-born snarler Apemantus is replete with an innate sense 
 of aristocracy, and most admirable is the change to sorrow at the 
 words, ' I am sick of this false world.' In the heat of his dispute 
 with Apemantus he has been betrayed into a vulgar expression of 
 rage, and for a few moments it is hard to say which is the more 
 ignoble figure of the two. But the higher nature of Timon rushes 
 back upon him as soon as the intruder is gone, and the transition is 
 most pathetic. Mr. Marston's Apemantus was of the greatest service 
 to the effectiveness of the scene. "With a countenance deformed by 
 malignity, an abject deportment, a sharp, spiteful glance, and a hard 
 hitting delivery of the pointed language, this personage was a most 
 admirable type of the worst species of the cynic breed. Mr. Pay was 
 simple and unaffected as the good steward Flavius, making the most 
 of the moral interest naturally excited in his favour without any 
 undue means to obtain applause," 
 
 " The revival of those works of Shakespeare which are more familiar 
 to the student than to the mere play-goer, has always been one of the 
 objects of Mr. Phelps's management, and has contributed not a little to 
 maintain the importance of his theatre in the eyes of the literary world. 
 The most secluded reader of the early English drama, if not restrained 
 by Puritanical prejudice, will always be anxious to know how the 
 personages and events which exist for his imagination only actually 
 look when endowed with visible shape, and placed before corporeal 
 eyes. And there is no doubt that an old play of the Shakespearean 
 epoch must be seen before it can be thoroughly appreciated. The 
 ' dramatic poem,' written for the closet, is a modern invention, 
 unknown to the founders of the London stage, who would have 
 thought that a play not to be acted was much the same thing as a 
 picture not to be seen. 
 
 "The Second Part of Shakespeare's Henry IV. may be fairly set 
 down as a theatrical rarity, the performance of which must be antici- 
 pated with no small amount of curiosity. Sometimes, indeed, the 
 scene representing King Henry's death is acted separately, on one of
 
 AND ON HEXRY lY., PART IT. 225 
 
 those evenings when an entertainment, composed of miscellaneous 
 fragments, takes place for some charitable object ; but the drama, as a 
 whole, is scarcely known to the great body of play-goers. Palstaff 
 swaggering about his exploits on Gad's Hill, or dividing his affections 
 between ^Mistress Page and INIistress Ford, is a familiar figure to thou- 
 sands who have never heard of liis amours with Doll Tearsheet, and 
 many could repeat by heart his soliloquy on honoiir to whom the 
 dissertation on the virtues of ' sherris-sack ' would be an absolute 
 novelty. ]S'ine years, we believe, have elapsed since the Second Part 
 of Henry IV. was performed at Sadler's Wells, and its performance 
 elsewhere will only be remembered by the older patrons of the 
 drama. 
 
 ""Whether it will ever acquire the permanent popularity which 
 belongs to the First Part of Henry IV. and The Merry Wives of 
 Windsor may reasonably be doubted, from the mere circumstance that 
 such popularity is not acquired already. Experience shows us that 
 our ancestors were not altogether mistaken when they stamped certain 
 plays as destined for a perpetual sojourn on the stage, and set apart 
 others as irremovable tenants of those library shelves that are loaded 
 with the records of the past. The literary enthusiasm with respect to 
 Shakespeare which has been kindled within the last half century, and 
 has received so much aliment from the almost idolatrous critics of 
 Germany, has had its effect in causing the revival of many plays that 
 seemed almost to have forfeited their theatrical existence. Neverthe- 
 less, the permanent Shakspeareau repertory is not increased, and we 
 do not believe that the large play-going multitude is familiar with a 
 greater number of plays than it was fifty years ago. An important 
 change has indeed taken place in the texts presented to the audience, 
 and the desire is every whei'e prevalent to follow Shakespeare as closely 
 as possible, and to make no alterations save those which decency and 
 a respect for brevity may demand. But even this reform is not rigidly 
 carried out. Our present audiences would stare, it is true, to find 
 Edgar the lover of Cordelia, and to witness Lear restored to sanity ; 
 but Fortinbras is even now an alien to the stage, though a German 
 critic (Herr Eohrbach) has very plausibly explained the importance 
 of his functions in the tragedy of Hamlet ; and Gibber's version of 
 liichard III. retains possession of the boards, in spite of all endeavours 
 to remove it on the part of Shakespearean enthusiasts. 
 
 "The great success which attended the revival of the Second Part 
 of Henry IV. at Sadler's Wells on Saturday night would seem to 
 militate against the validity of our argument, for which precedent is 
 the sole foundation. The house was crowded, and the audience wa^ 
 delighted ; indeed, the occupants of the gallery were sometimes so 
 obstreperous in the manifestation of their keen enjoyment that, liy the 
 more quietly disposed, a little apathy would occasionally have liecu 
 liailed as a welcome relief. Of course the famous scene in which the 
 enrolment of the recruits takes place, and a number of grotesque tattcr- 
 demallions are in turns presented to Fal.slall", marked the culniinaliug
 
 228 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 point of mirth, but tlie roars it caused were nearly rivalled by those 
 that accompanied the dangerous act in which Doll Tearsheet is the 
 heroine. Ee^arding the play in a Bowdler spirit, one would be inclined 
 to counsel the omission of tliis act altogether, for the lovely Doll is a 
 iraviata of the most repulsive kind. But the admirable manner in 
 which she is represented by Mrs. Lingard, and the noisy pleasure 
 which she awakens among the audience by i-ating Ancient Pistol, with 
 arms a-kimbo and head shaking with defiance, are sucli practical argu- 
 ments in her favour, that the soft voice of j)ropriety lifted against her 
 would be drowned as in a hurricane. Great praise is likewise due to 
 Mrs. Barrett, whose maudlin timidity as Dame Quickly contrasts 
 excellently Avith the ferocity of the undaunted Doll. 
 
 " It is not often that we have to record a more conscientious and 
 well-sustained personation than that of Falstaff by Mr. Barrett. He 
 does not, indeed, adopt Dr. Maginn's theory that tlie fat knight, while 
 the cause of laughter in others, should himself be grave, but, regarding 
 the character from a more mirthful point of view, he thorouglily works 
 it out. The long soliloquies deserve the closest attention as specimens 
 of careful reading. Worthy, too, are his attendants, Bardolph, Pistol, 
 and the Page, humorously represented by Messrs. Williams and 
 Seyton and Mi^s F. Collier. 
 
 "However, the great histrionic feature of the production is the 
 personation by Mr. Phelps of the two very different characters, 
 Henry IV. and Justice Shallow. The only scene in which the King 
 appears is in the fourth act, where he is shown as a dying man, but 
 the importance of the scene is increased by the introduction of the 
 beautiful apostrophe to Sleep, which properly belongs to Act III. The 
 dignity of the departing Bolingbroke, his kindly expostulations with 
 liis sons, the joy that for a moment lights up his countenance when he 
 hears of the defeat of the rebels, are all in the best taste ; and he is 
 ably supported by Mr. Edmund Phelps (Prince Henry), whose careful- 
 ness is entitled to all praise. But to behold the complete display of 
 Mr. Phelps's peculiar genius — that of characteristic impersonation — 
 Ave should rather turn to the other part, that of Justice Shallow, as a 
 masterpiece of comic creation. The loquacity and the effect of age on 
 a not overwise head are exhibited with singular accuracy. The old 
 man laughs at the jest of Falstaff and the song of Silence (well played 
 by Mr. Fenton), but leaves you much in doubt whether he sees the 
 point of the one or the sentiment of the other. His tongue is too glib 
 for his mind, and he repeats his words twice, that he may have time 
 fully to grasp their meaning. Is Falstafi's report of him correct, that 
 all these tales about his youthful excesses are mere fabrications'? If 
 so, the good justice is evidently the firmest believer in his own lies, 
 and is utterly unconscious of his own powers of invention. Mr. Phelps 
 also hits on that want of sensibility Avhich belongs to doting old age. 
 The news that the admiral. Old Double, is dead, leads him into a 
 garrulous description of the great qualities of the deceased, but there is 
 no approach to grief. Like Bottom in A Midsummer Insight's Dream,
 
 BAYLE BERNARD ON RICHELIEU. 227 
 
 Justice Sliallow may be set down as one of Mr. Phelps's great comic 
 parts. 
 
 "The dresses are new and aj)propriate, and the piece is in every 
 respect excellently mounted." 
 
 The Weekly Dispatch in 1858 and 1859 had the following 
 by Bayle Bernard on Richelieu and Hamlet : — 
 
 Sadler's Wells. 
 
 " We may he pardoned if we occasionally compare small things with 
 great. Niehuhr is our authority, who says, that history in its grandest 
 form is after all but the expanded circle of social transactions. If Mr. 
 ]\Iacready was the Alexander of the theatrical world, who enlarged 
 his dominion in every field of the drama, Mr. Phelps claims the 
 praise of being his only lieutenant, who, out of the wreck of a great 
 rule, has built up one of his own. He is our true stage Seleucus ! 
 "Warde, Elton, Anderson, had even chances with him at starting, and 
 the latter has won for himself a good personal standing. Mr. Phelps 
 is the only one who has had the additional merit of establishing a 
 valuable theatrical system. "When our stage records are written by 
 some future A'ictor or Collier, his achievement Avill stand out as the 
 most interesting event of the last twenty years. We have no occasion 
 to enlarge on a fact which is so patent and well acknowledged as this, 
 but we may refer briefly to a few of the principles out of which it has 
 grown. Mr. Phelps's object, we must admit, was rather dramatic 
 than theatrical. Basing the acceptance of an author on his human 
 illustration, and not on his scenic, he established at once a poetical 
 aim which had a twofold advantage ; whilst it enforced his best efforts, 
 it bred excuse for his Aveakest. There was policy in its justice. He 
 next, with a feeling just as sound and artistic, resolved to view all 
 the means within his reach as a whole — as material which, if systema- 
 tized, developed and subjected in proper relation to a central idea, 
 would, however moderate in merit, accpiire force from mere harmony, 
 and leave a sense of completeness in all their results which could not 
 fail to content, if it did not always electrify. We cite these two 
 jjrinciples — to be detected, we believe, by a very cursory observance 
 of any part of his career — as sufficient proof of his claim to be re- 
 garded as a veritable dramatic reformer. Without dwelHng on tlie 
 gratification which such a system must have allbrded to the genuine 
 ])lay-goer, there is another view of its merits which we may briclly 
 allude to. It has the additional value of being thoroughly practical. 
 It is a system which any manager with common sense and comiimii 
 industry may put into force. Tiius its creation is a positive boon to 
 the l^rama; and beyond all the good which has justly accrued to him- 
 self, its aullior may count with very honourabh; pride on tin; ])enefits it 
 is likely to confer on his follower.s. It mu.st be remembered, however, 
 that to the achievement of his end he had no trilling advantages in 
 
 Q 2
 
 228 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 himself as an actor. Simply to have been either a good tragedian 
 or comedian would scarcely have answered in founding his scheme. 
 Variety of performance was essential to success, and this could only 
 be sustained at a remunerative point by talents which could be present 
 on every occasion, and secure in his person the general result. Of 
 Mr. Phelps's variety not a word need be said. Taken in his entire 
 range, and especially in Shakespeare, from the heights of the tragic 
 muse down to the very depths of the comic — from Hamlet to Falstaff, 
 and Macbeth to Bottom, he may fairly claim the praise of being the 
 very best actor the stage now possesses. He is the only true successor 
 of the great school of Garrick, in which genius was understood to be 
 the power of illustrating both sides of the mind, and not throwiug 
 itself into one, and there producing effects which, perhaps, owed half 
 their force to the mere fact of distinctness. We are led to these 
 comments by his performance of Richelieu, as well as by the merits 
 of tlie play's production in general. We have no reluctance in saying 
 that we scarcely rank the Cardinal among his best efforts. Mr. Phelps 
 has this peculiarity — that whilst highly ideal in Shakespeare or the 
 poetical drama, in the mixed or mere romantic he is eminently real, 
 as though anxious to balance his imaginative essays by the most 
 objective treatment of lower conceptions. He owes this in part to 
 his humour, which, as a medium of reality, entices him of course into 
 the most direct illustrations, and which acquires no little force from 
 that weight of voice and look which tells with such effect in thdir 
 graver employment. We see this in Richelieu. The Cardinal has 
 two aspects, that of minister and man, just as Lear has his two aspects 
 of monarch and father. The actor's object of course is to manifest 
 both ; but temperament and sympathy attract him to one phase or 
 the other by a sort of elective affinity, very hard to account for, if 
 very easy to feel. It is easy to explain the most popular. The old 
 courtier, grown grey in State-craft and duplicity, who keeps a corner 
 of his heart sacred to domestic aifection, Avho, amidst the searing 
 influences of ambition and flattery, has feelings ever freshened by 
 natural sympathies, is a picture that an audience must always respond 
 to. It is the Cardinal placed in his universal relations. His position 
 as a minister is another affair. To give interest to him here, Bulwer 
 paints him as a patriot, who, in all his intrigues or his violences, 
 strives for his country, and is only forced into evil means by his evil 
 antagonisms. The student of. history knows this to be false : that 
 Richelieu had no patriotism except in its ancient Court sense, which 
 identified France with an absolute throne. He had two great designs 
 — to build up the. French monarchy by crushing out the last sparks 
 of feudalism in the Huguenot nobles ; and, side by side with this, 
 to break down the Popedom in France, by laying the foundations of 
 the Gallican Church. Through both of these projects he proposed 
 but one end — his own elevation over the will of a weak King and a 
 still weaker country. Where was his patriotism when he knew that, 
 in crushing the Huguenots, he was drying up the industrial resources
 
 BAYLE BERNARD OX RICHELIEU. 229 
 
 of France 1 Lut his heroism is negatived as he is shown in the pUiy. 
 In order, to insure him variety, the historic truth of his subtlety is 
 necessarily given him ; and this is felt at once to be at war Avith all 
 grandeur. The craft with which he tricks his assailants, as well as at 
 last defeats his rival, whilst it shows infinite cleverness, has little of 
 heroism. The fox's skin can neither cover nor piece out the lion's. 
 An English audience feel at once that he is a mass of ambition, and 
 all his talk of France, ' his dear mistress,' is mere empty pretext to 
 veil his true ends. They see it is a struggle of parties for the attain- 
 ment of power, in which the veteran Whig Cardinal is pretty certain 
 to beat that fine specimen of French Toryism, j\Ions. de Baradas. 
 Xow, it is to the view of Eichelieu as a patriot that Mr. Phelps 
 clearly leans. jSI^ot that he is wanting in tenderness in his scenes with 
 the lovers ; but his force is most apparent in all the personal passages 
 where he has to invest the old statesman with moral pretences ; and 
 this is done with a loftiness that strives to show he is so sincere in, 
 and so absorbed by, high purposes, as to be incapable of weighing his 
 very questionable means, Now, conceding that Mr. Phelps has a 
 perfect right to this view, what we object to is his contradictory mode 
 of conveying it. The view itself is ideal, and ought to be borne out 
 by every circumstance in the treatment which would conform to that 
 end — as, for instance, great age and weakness — which, suggesting a 
 greater eifort in sustaining his struggles, would make the interest 
 more mental — centering more in his spirit than in the resources it 
 flies to ; — we would adil, too, more gravity, as suggesting more earnest- 
 ness, and giving him the benefit of labouring under noble delusions. 
 Mr. Phelps, however, renders him to the last degree real ; he makes 
 him strong — almost robust — and very unpleasantly conscious — a man 
 who sees his game clearly, and who enjoys whilst he plays it. His 
 laugh is as hearty as his howd of defiance. Nothing is suggested, but 
 all is brought out — whether in thought or in act — with the utmost 
 force and distinctness. In all this, as we have said, he owes much to 
 his humour, which comes out at all points — strong, sharp, and salient 
 — enforced by his massive style and his sonorous delivery. Still, all 
 things objected, there cannot be a doubt that his Cardinal is a most 
 striking performance, and one well Avorth observing if on the mere 
 score of effect. It is a picture of broad contrasts and well-balanced 
 colours, in which, if the shadows are massive, the lights are bold and 
 telling. One cannot behold it without feeling a great sense of illusion, 
 or rather, we would say, of historical truth — for we must be just to 
 Mr. Phelps. His is the Eichelieu of history. He gives us the man 
 as he was in fact, if not as he is in Bulwer; and on this ground, 
 again, a visit to his benches would not be unprofitable. The student 
 who has conned his Ue Eetz, his Bassompierre, and his INIichelet, could 
 scarcely do better than in consulting his i'helps, who i)uts into action 
 so much of their painting. Whilst the production of this i)lay has 
 all the (piiet completeness which w^o have referred to in principle, its 
 acting throughout was a very appropriate framework to the Cardinal's
 
 230 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 portrait. Thoughtful and spirited, clear and intelligent, without 
 flagging or running into the slightest excess, all worked harmoniously 
 in sustaining the illusion and a mental impression. Mr. H. Marston's 
 Baradas was very sound in conception, if at times too demonstrative. 
 Mr. Eobinson's De Mauprat was very graceful and chivalrous. Mr. 
 Eay made every tone of his Joseph significant ; and Miss Egerton, 
 the Julie, if not quite as self-possessed as her well-trained associates, 
 showed a feeling and purpose which, in the school she has entered, 
 cannot fail to expand." 
 
 " The London theatrical season of 1859 commences with a feature 
 that is certainly more distinctive than it is creditable. Out of all its 
 leading theatres, only one of them is specially devoted to Shakespeare 
 and the poetic drama. The two larger houses have long since been 
 perverted from their original use ; but all their substitutes, including 
 the Hay market, have avowedly resorted to a lower class of entertain- 
 ment. At one house we have the modern comedy, which is, in fact, 
 the drama of real life ; at others we have both comedy and tragedy, 
 which belong to no life whatever. Apart from them all the ideal 
 play, which alone can sustain the drama in its enlarging combat with 
 inodern tastes, retreats to a London suburb, as to an outer fortress 
 when the citadel is lost, and there entrenching itself as best it can, 
 maintains its ancient warfare with ' barbaric sound and show.' Thus 
 the distinction of Mr. Phelps is, in fact, the disgrace of the metropolis. 
 We honour him as we pity or reprehend his compeers. ^Nevertheless, 
 his highest merit does not rest on relative grounds. It is easy to see 
 that were we living in the healthiest condition of the drama, his 
 principles of management could not be lessened in their influence. 
 Truth is truth, however varying may be the force with which it is 
 presented. When completeness and not special greatness is proposed 
 as the object of a scheme, the mental satisfaction must repay largely 
 the want of the emotional. We may miss the higher excitement 
 wliich genius only can bestow, but we gain those true perceptions by 
 which genius must be tested, and wanting Avhich the greatest genius 
 can be but imperfectly enjoj^ed. We are led to these remarks by a 
 survey of the operations of this theatre since its opening. In little 
 more than a month it has produced three tragedies of Shakespeare, — 
 Romeo and Juliet, Lear, and Hamlet, — and all with a truth of system 
 as well as power of exposition which must have won it consideration 
 in the very best days of the drama. We are more particularly im- 
 pressed with this fact in reference to the play of Hamlet, which 
 Avas produced on Saturday, to a house crowded to the roof, and 
 received in a manner which showed its spectators were just as intelli- 
 gent as they were numerous. The significance of such a fact it would 
 be hard to overrate. Hamlet, the profoundest, and in most respects 
 the abstrusest creation of the poet, a picture of the human soul, which 
 grasps so many of its highest problems as to render it itself the great 
 enigma of ideal literature, nevertheless has an attraction at the theatre
 
 BAYLE EEEXARD OX HAMLET. 231 
 
 suburban, Sadler's "Wells, that crowds the house to overflowing. It 
 is no great discredit to Mr. Phelps to say his Hamlet' is not all the 
 dramatic student could desire. A character which is such a microcosm 
 — which is such an equipoise of the two spheres of contemplatiou and 
 emotion — has probably never been embodied with any approach ti) its 
 complete demands by more than two or three actors in the entire 
 history of our stage. Betterton, Garrick, and possibly Henderson — 
 men so singularly organized tliat they reigned with equal supremacy 
 not only over the real and ideal worlds, but the reflective and the 
 passionate — were evidently actors formed by nature to do justice to 
 the double aspect of this marvellous creation. Ordinarily we know 
 that actors possess but half their organization, and, Avhatever their 
 early eflbrts, fall in time into the illustration of only one of its dis- 
 tinctions. Of this fact we can recall in our own day two memorable 
 examples, that of Young and Edmund Kean — and more especially can 
 we connect them with the character of Hamlet. Whilst we remember 
 that the one brought before us all the Royal grace and dignity, all the 
 refinement, cultivation, and mentality of Hamlet — it was in the other 
 we beheld the wearing sadness or poignant grief, the filial reverence, 
 the self-contempt, the crushed hope and desol ite doom wliich marked 
 him out so especially as an object for our sympathy. Mr. Plielps's 
 exposition leans as a whole to that of Young. It reveals more to us 
 of the Prince's mind than of the deeper working of his feelings. It 
 presents to us the Eoyal student, with all his culture and his dignity, 
 and his speculative taste acquired perhaps at the university, which he 
 is at length led to apply under the stings of his misfortunes ; but we 
 have less of the Royal sufl'erer, who endures as much as -he dreams, 
 and flies to speculation possibly rather as a rel'uge than an enjoyment. 
 Thus we must confess that throughout his scenes with the Ghost, the 
 Queen, and with Ophelia, we missed- a certain impulse — a certain 
 natural ardour and absorption — which, if we defer at all to the text, 
 seem essential to their right rendering, though even these were not 
 devoid of passages and moments of great energy ; whilst, on the 
 contrary, the scenes with the players, with the courtiers, and with the 
 Gravedigger, together with the soliloquies, were irradiated throughout 
 Avith a naturalness and an intelligence which left nothing to be wu-lied 
 for. On the whole, we regard Mr. Phelps's Hamlet as incomparably 
 the best the stage has possessed for many years; and one that, judging 
 by appearances, is not likely to lose its rank for many years to come. 
 This excellent performance was very worthily supported. The Ghost 
 of Mr. j\Iarston is the very best we have ever seen. It is distinguished, 
 not merely by great solemnity and dignity, but by a jiathos and a 
 tenderness, es[)ecially in the r(.'ferences to the Queen, which made it 
 singularly real, and which served as a golden link to connect the two 
 existences — of the human and the spiritual. We have an objection, 
 however, to make to the first appearance of the Ghost. "Wliy does ho 
 always enter in the foreground, ami shock the senses with his sub- 
 stantiality before the mind has had time to rise to the required illusion
 
 232 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 
 
 a 
 
 f his presence; whereas, if brought on at the back, and dimly dis- 
 coverable at a distance, the illusion would be invoked at once, and 
 would go on strengthening as the play advanced. The Ophelia of 
 IMiss Heath (a young actress who is evidently rising rapidly in her 
 profession) is also to be referred to as a very admirable performance, 
 renewing much of the impression we formerly received from Mrs. 
 Kean's. The Laertes of Mr. Robinson was also highly satisfactory ; 
 and something more than satisfactory was the Polonius of Mr. Ray, 
 who restores this maligned old gentleman to his Shakespearean signifi- 
 cance. Polonius, according to the poet, is a man of intelligence and 
 feeling, who only in the presence of Hamlet exhibits the pliancy of 
 a courtier, and then, be it remembered, towards a man he thinks 
 demented. His parting charge to his son is a perfect repertory of 
 sound maxims, and his subsequent scene with his daughter not less a 
 proof of a just anxiety. jSTevertheless, stage tradition has converted 
 the old chamberlain into a drivelling buffoon, who would be the last 
 man in the world to utter half the things assigned him. ]\Ir. Ray, 
 therefore, in restoring him to reason and propriety, is entitled to the 
 thanks of all admirers of the poet." 
 
 On Henry V., Virginius, and The School for Scandal, the 
 following criticisms appeared at various times in the Morning 
 Post :— 
 
 Sadler's "Wells. 
 
 " Last night Shakespeare's Henry V. (recently performed at Windsor 
 Castle) was revived at the above theatre with great scenic splendour, 
 and, wdiat is much better, remarkably good acting. 
 
 " Mr. Phelps not only gave a scholar-like reading of the principal 
 character, but truly emhodied it. He substantiated the Shakespearean 
 conception ; showing us a living flesh and blood reality, whose every 
 look, word, and gesture were animated by poetry's Promethean 
 fire. 
 
 " In King Henry's first scene, the actor at once displayed his power 
 of portraying regal dignity to the life; and, in subsequent portions 
 of the drama, he appeared to equal advantage as the soldier and the 
 courtly gentleman. His delivery of the opening speech beginning 
 ' Sure we thank you, learned lord,' was most impressive. j\Iajestic 
 in accent, and musical in intonation, it left nothing to be desired ; 
 but art of a still loftier order was manifested in the utterance of the 
 terrible menaces and biting sarcasm included in the lines commencing 
 ' We are glad the Dauphin is so pleasant with us,' where Kmg Henry 
 replies to the insolent message of Louis. 
 
 " Another noble display of histrionic skill was Mr. Phelps's per- 
 formance of the entire scene in the second act, in which the traitors 
 Gray, Scroop, and Cambridge are exposed, and brought to shame by
 
 MORNING POST ON HENRY V., VIRGINIUS, 233 
 
 their intended victim. Also, throughout the third and fourth acts, 
 where, amid the din of war and environed by dangers, the Avarrior- 
 king proves himself to be every inch a hero, and an excellent philo- 
 sopher to boot, the performer was fully equal to his arduous duties. 
 Indeed, he rose Avith the occasion, for it was in the very difficult 
 speeches — ' Once more unto the breach, dear friends !' 'So, if a son 
 that is by his father sent about merchandise,' ' Indeed, the French 
 may lay twenty French crowns to one,' and, above all, in the magniti- 
 cent, soul-stirring address to the overmatched troops, ' What's he that 
 wishes so'?' that Mr. Phelps achieved his greatest triumphs. High 
 comedy, too, of the best kind, Avas exhibited by him where the English 
 King endeavours to make his amorous words understood by Katharine, 
 his French bride. 
 
 " In short, we class the Henry Y. of Mr. Phelps amongst the very 
 best things Avhich the modern European stage has produced. 
 
 "Another performance of rare merit was the Pistol of Mr. Hoskins. 
 ' His solus I Egregious dog ! ' ' The solus in thy most marvellous face ! ' 
 ' Sword is an oath,' ' Base is the slave that pays,' &c. ; and the whole 
 of the celebrated leek-eating scene, were given with graphic force and 
 infinite humour. The ' make-up,' too, Avas admirable, Avhilst the 
 braggadocio air, and immense swagger, Avere assumed throughout Avith- 
 out the slightest tinge of exaggeration. 
 
 " ^Miss Travers's personation of the boy Avas likeAvise perfect in its 
 way — a thoroughly artistic conception consistently carried out ; and 
 great praise may be awarded to ' the Chorus ' of Mr. Marston, and the 
 delineations of Bardolph, Fluellen, and Williams, by Messrs. Josephs, 
 Ball, and Barrett. 
 
 " The mise en scene, as Ave have already observed, Avas most magnifi- 
 cent, and nothing could possibly be better than the arrangement of the 
 stage business, Avhich Avas not only extremely picturesque, but also full 
 of life-like animationand appropriateness of purpose. 
 
 "The house Avas aa'cII attended, and an enthusiastic call was made 
 for Mr. Phelps at the conclusion of the drama." 
 
 "Sheridan KnoAvles's play of Virginius was last night represented 
 at this theatre Avith a nierit and success Avhich, in these days of poor 
 players and Avorse plays, it Avas quite exhilarating to Avitness. We 
 liave already noticed the efforts of Mr. Phelps, this season more 
 strenuous than ever, to resuscitate the drama of England ; his under- 
 taking, it must be confessed,-' is an arduous one, but the manifold 
 courage, in the face of great difficulties, Avhich he has displayed, 
 entitles him to the best thanks of the literary public of the 
 metropolis. 
 
 " The play of A^irginius, although in some parts Avanting in striking 
 effects, nevertheless contains in its plot and catastrophe those elements 
 Avhich are most essential to the development of strong feeling and 
 poAverful emotion. It is based upon a simple and Avell-knoAV}i story, 
 in which right is basely sacrificed to tyranny and opjircssion ; it
 
 234 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 appeals at once to the sympatliies of the spectator, who, in spite of 
 himself, is carried along by the incidents which in the progress of the 
 play are gradually developed. It will, therefore, always be a popular 
 play, for it appeals at once to the heart, and the dialogue is not 
 filtrated through the head before it reaches the feelings, which, 
 irrespective of other aids, are natural to us all. 
 
 "The Virginius of Mr. Phelps is, in our judgment, the best of his 
 performances ; it is equal throughout, and the actor having seized 
 upon the attention, retains it to the end. There is a noble nature 
 in the bold and injured Roman father, which is set forth, not with 
 violence, but with determination — a determination allied with and 
 softened by his gentle love for his young daughter. From the anxious 
 inquiry he makes in the first act about the enigma of the letters in 
 the embroider}^, to the fatal blow which deprives her of life, his 
 daughter is his be-all and his end-all — ' immutable, immaculate, and 
 immortal.' In the betrothment scene Mr. Phelps displayed much 
 dignity and feeling, but his strength lay more in the scene in the 
 forum, and in the tenderness with which, even in his subsequent 
 madness, he hung, as it were, upon the hope of seeing her yet again, 
 and listened to the distant echo of her imagined footstep. And when 
 a moment's reason gives him a glimpse of his dire calamity, he utters 
 one of those bursts of tenderness whicli are wont to break from a 
 crushed and withered heart, and exclaims 
 
 ' Though all 
 The guilty globe should blaze, she will spring up 
 Thi'ough the fire, and soar above the crackling pile 
 "With not a downy feather ruffled by 
 Its fierceness ! ' 
 
 ""We might — and, in good truth, with justice — continue to review 
 this impersonation of the character of Virginias, which we have no 
 hesitation in asserting to be as fine a piece of acting as we have ever 
 seen upon the English stage. The Virginia of Miss Cooper was 
 chaste and natural, and was sustained throughout with much delicacy. 
 The Dentatus of Mr. Barrett, and the Appius Claudius of Mr. Lunt, 
 together with the Icilius of Mr. H. Marston, Avere well deserving of 
 the applause they received. The Servia of Mrs. Ternan, the faithful 
 nurse of Virginia, was deserving of favourable mention. The house 
 was crowded, and the enthusiasm of the audience was very great 
 throughout." < 
 
 " Sheridan's comedy of The School for Scandal has been played 
 during the latter part of the week at this theatre, and with great 
 success. The character of Sir Peter Teazle is one in which the 
 abilities of ]Mr, Phelps are very prominently disj^layed ; and the 
 entire conception deservedly places that gentleman in the very first 
 rank of modern comedians. Sir Peter is not, as we have seen him' 
 portrayed, either a drivelling sexagenarian, or a grotesque mountebank,
 
 AND SIR PETEE TEAZLE. 235 
 
 but an old bachelor, sensible in all things save one, nameh', liis love 
 and marriage with a young, heartless, and silly girl, wliose vanity is 
 too great for her discretion, and whose former hoydenish ignorance 
 of life is only equalled by the madness with which she afterwards 
 luxuriates in its most reprehensible follies. The good nature of the 
 old bachelor seems to be his most marked failing ; in fact, his besetting 
 weakness. He is first deceived in his wife, and next in his friend : 
 the one is ready to sacrifice her husband's honour ; and the other, who 
 ' looks like tlie innocent flower, but is the serpent under it,' swears 
 a hypocritical devotion to his benefactor while laying siege to the 
 already shaken virtue of his worthless wife. The Lady Teazle of 
 Miss Cooper was sustained with considerable taste ; but in the grand 
 scene, when she is discovered concealed behind the screen in Joseph 
 Surface's room, there was a want of that vigour which the circum- 
 stances of the case might well call forth. Mr. Lunt's impersonation 
 of the hypocritical Joseph merits general approval ; it was quiet, easy, 
 and natural, and divested of that absurd stage conventionality in 
 motion and in language which is the curse of the drama, and the 
 very antithesis of good taste and of common sense. Of ]\Ir. H. 
 Marston's Charles Surface we cannot say much that is favourable. 
 It is not the dashing gentleman, the Avell-bred rour, of the author; 
 but a certain sort of something made up of half-drunkard, half-fool, 
 full of unmeaning laughter and violent gesticulation. Charles Surface 
 is mirthful, but not silly ; given to wine, but not a drunkard ; a 
 gamester, but not vicious ; extravagant, but not selfish. Such was 
 Sheridan's man. Mr. Marston's is quite another thing. The play, 
 however, is very creditably put upon the stage; and, if no other 
 inducement were there to attract the public, the Sir Peter Teazle of 
 Mr. Phelps is in itself a piece of finished acting which cannot fail to 
 gratify every one who loves the drama, and is competent to discrimi- 
 nate the natural from the unnatural, and who estimates an actor, not 
 by the noise he makes, but by the truth with which he represents the 
 ordinary characteristics of human life. We must not conclude with- 
 out giving a well-earned word of praise to Mrs. H. Marston's Mrs. 
 Candour, which was played with much spirit and point." 
 
 The three following critiques on Romeo and Juliet, Henry V., 
 and Henry IV, (Part Second), appeared respectively at different 
 dates in the Aihenccum, the Baibj News, and the Sunday Times, 
 the first being by John A. Heraud, and the last by Stirling 
 Coyne : — 
 
 " Miss Laura Addison has, at length, been permitted to essay hor 
 strength on the Shakespearean bow ; and she so i'ar succeeded as to 
 justify us in confidently affirming that she is an actress of no common 
 powers and of considerable judgment. The play was Korneo and
 
 236 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 Juliet — the lieroine being acted by the young lady alluded to, and 
 the hero by Mr. Creswick. Both performers are great acquisitions 
 to the London stage. We were particularly pleased with Mr. 
 Creswick's Eomeo, which, was throughout chastely conceived and 
 executed without exaggeration. The poetry, however, was better 
 preserved than the passion of the character ; — and in the great scene 
 with tlie Friar in the third act we missed that agonizing emotion to 
 which we have lately been accustomed. The judgment and reason 
 were appealed to rather than the seat of the afiections in the throbbing 
 and almost breaking heart; still there was a manly bearing, which, 
 without depriving despair of its vehemence, lent it dignity and support 
 under the pressure of almost intolerable calamity. The love of Juliet, 
 as depicted by Miss Addison, was, in the earljr scenes, almost girlish 
 in its innocence — in the later, most maidenly in its impetuosity. As 
 the drama increased in its demands on her energies, she gradually 
 rose to passion, — grew into decision of purpose and strengthening form 
 of character. The scenes with the I^urse were enchantingly played ; 
 and when she finds that the ' ancient iniquity ' is no longer to be 
 trusted, her ' Amen ' and ' thou hast comforted me marvellous mucli ' 
 were delivered with that solemn and mysterious emphasis which 
 becomes the situation. Thenceforth, Juliet must act for herself. 
 Miss Addison evidently felt the responsibility of the new position ; 
 and assumed an attitude of determination accordingly. At once she 
 attained to maturity. ISTo longer the minor, the maiden, — but the 
 wife and woman, — she must now assume an independence of character, 
 and resort to such measiu-es as may most effectually meet the present 
 extremity. The joyous and confiding girl, previously all truth and 
 straightforwardness, suddenly diplomatizes, submits to duplicity, dares 
 the perils of falsehood and death itself, to preserve the chastity of a 
 plighted and irrevocable love. All this was beautifully delineated. 
 But then comes the dreadful chamber scene, which Juliet ' must act 
 alone,' — a scene which is the test of an actress's powers, — in which 
 many a Juliet, successful up to that point, has excited ridicule in 
 place of sympathy. This soliloquy is, in fact, one of the most difficult 
 passages in the entire drama. Miss Addison divested it of all its 
 conventionalities ; conceived it in a mood and a style perfectly original ; 
 contrived to live, as it were, so naturally and unaffectedly in every 
 line, — suffered the horrible imaginings so progressively to accumulate 
 upon her mind, — that all those exaggerations of manner which are 
 usually permitted to change the sublime into the ridiculous were not 
 even suggested. The climax of the action was reached without a 
 leap ; and the most powerful effect produced without any sacrifice of 
 discretion and taste. In a word, the scene was an artistic triumph. 
 Mr. Phelps has produced this play with unexampled propriety. 
 With such care and originality has the whole of the mise en seme 
 been disposed, that there is scarcely a situation in which there is 
 not some novelty and felicity of arrangement to admire. Nearly all 
 the passages usually omitted from the original text are restored, and
 
 THE DAILY NEWS ON HENRY V. 237 
 
 the vindication "wliich they present of the poet's superior judgment is 
 complete. There is not a single instance in which these restorations 
 do not give probability to the motive, and aid the development of 
 the character. The final scene in the monument also strictly obeys 
 the implied stage directions in the text. The body of Paris is 
 conveyed into the vault by Eomeo, who never afterwards leaves it. 
 Therein the remainder of the action is also concluded. Juliet is 
 awakened, but never comes forward — dying beside the tomb on which 
 she had been sleeping. The picturesque effect of all this fully justified 
 the poet's conception ; — showing how much wiser he was than the 
 players have hitherto been. Mr. Phelps himself performed Mercutio ; 
 giving to the Queen Mab speech an entirely new reading — not making 
 a set oration of it, but blending it familiarly with the dialogue. He 
 was deservedl)^ applauded." 
 
 " The intelligent audience of Sadler's "Wells, whom its manager has 
 faithfully taught to appreciate the sense and spirit of Shakespeare's 
 poetry, independently of that sumptuous magnificence of scenic display 
 and that elaborate reproduction of 'antiquarian details which may be 
 found at another establishment, have during last week, since the 
 memorable eve of St. Crispin, been engaged Avith the heroic and 
 popular figiire of our Israve King Harry Y. In each of the London 
 theatres which yet afford Shakespeare a home — and which both 
 deserve public thanks as they creditably proceed, by very different 
 methods, to the same great national object of bringing forth the various 
 treasures of wonder and delight from his inexhaustible pages — a 
 chapter of English liistory is at this moment being played. We regard 
 this token of a liking for Shakespeare's historical plays as one of the 
 most encouraging symptoms of a good, sound, honest, and hearty state 
 of mind in the communit3^ The said plays are worth more to us, as 
 a nation, and are more peculiarly our own inheritance, than any other 
 portion of our literature. They grow out of our native soil. One of 
 those ' good yeomen, whose bones were made in England,' has chosen 
 to ' show us here the mettle of his pasture,' instead of borrowing his 
 argument, as in other works, from Plutarch or from some Italian 
 novelist. Other nations have converted the legendary struggles of 
 their early life into the materials of immortal poetry, but overhung 
 with an awful mythological veil and the mysterious remoteness of the 
 far past. The old soldier of Marathon, indeed, applied his ' thunder 
 phrase ' to the discomfiture of Asiatic invaders which he himself had 
 actually witnessed. But with this exception and a few amongst the 
 old narrative ballads, the dramatic diorama Shakespeare has painted 
 us of the Plantagenet and Tudor reigns is unparallcletl in ancient or 
 modern literature for its combination of a startling realism, and 
 essential truthfulness of recent story with the free bold outlines of 
 imaginative design and the colouring of picturesque romance. 
 
 " In this admirable series no play is more adapted to gratify our 
 national feeling than this of the gallant enterprise which passed
 
 238 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 through its crisis at Agiiiconrt. There is amongst us an old prejudice 
 not yet eradicated, which King Harry expresses in saying, 
 
 * I thought, upon one pair of English legs 
 Did march three Frenchmen.' 
 
 The inveterate tone of chivalrous defiance, emulation rather than 
 hostility, which prevailed so many ages between us and our next 
 neighbours, breathes out alike in Henry V. and in King John. There 
 is even a touch of ferocity in the former play not quite alien to the 
 vulgar English disposition. But the character of Henry is, perhaps, 
 the most attractive type of manly virtue that Shakespeare has given 
 us. The kniglitly thirst of adventure and renown, the patient fortitude, 
 the generosity and humane consideration for others, the union of com- 
 manding resolution and energy with playful humour and affectionate 
 tenderness — these qualities make him peculiarly interesting. It is 
 linnecessary to say how well the hero's part was sustained by !Mr. 
 Phelps, who somehow or otheK has a patent for performing the 
 character of a great-souled, aspiring, energetic man, and stands un- 
 rivalled as the actor of heroes — tlie most genuine impersonator of 
 nobility of mind. Throughout the serious action of this play, which 
 we might almost venture to call a biography, the interest dej^ends 
 entirely on Henry. There is the discussion by the prelates of his 
 claim, on which occasion we see the conscientious balance of the king's 
 judgment weighing, with a deep sense of statesmanlike responsibility, 
 the terrible miscliief of war against the promptings of honour and 
 ambition — there is the Dauphin's insolent mockery, with Henry's 
 dignified and sharp reproof — his stern sentence, just without cruelty, 
 on the traitors at Southampton — the ardent forwardness of his warrior 
 charge at Harfleur — his firm and intrepid repudiation of the terms 
 subsequently offered when, in Picardy, with an enfeebled army, his 
 situation has become one of peril : 
 
 ' We would not seek a battle as we are, 
 Nor, as we are, we say we will not shun it.' 
 
 There is his vigil in the camp, with his frank and familiar talk to poor 
 brave fellows by the watchfire, the wisdom and thoughtfulness of 
 what he says to them, the profound and melancholy truth of his 
 soliloquy upon the vanity of that royal sceptre, that ' proud dream ' on 
 which hangs a burthen of anxieties beyond the strength of man to 
 bear, and then the electric suddenness with which he is roused again 
 into martial activity by the morning summons, and the passionate 
 fervour of almost prophetic ecstasy when he prays the God of battles 
 to steel his soldiers' hearts. All this, and all his manhood, the brief 
 heart-stirring speech to his ' band of brothers ' on the field, the quick 
 changes of emotion after the battle, between rage at the treacherous 
 cruelty of the foe, sorrow for the death of his peers, promptitude to 
 secure the fruits of victory, and good-natured tolerance of the Welsh- 
 man's unseasonable gossip — Mr. Phelps gave it to the life. Xor were
 
 STIRLING COYNE ON HENRY lY. 239 
 
 the lighter portions of the dialogue less Avorthily delivered. In the 
 pleasant comedy scene ■which ends the play, the part of fair Katharine, 
 with her pretty French coquetrj' and broken English, "vvas very grace- 
 fullj' performed hj' ^liss Egerton, a recent debutante, who has shown 
 both talent and good taste, whilst our ' king of good fellows,' with his 
 honest, cheerful importunity, briskly made his way to her consent and 
 the nuptial ratification of the restored peace. ]\Ir. Frederick Eobinson 
 was very quaint and good as the Welsh captain, Fluellen ; and ]\Irs. 
 Marston, in the character of Dame Pistol, late Quickly, Avas broadly 
 humorous and natural. 
 
 " A new farce closed Saturday's performances, which merits a word 
 of notice. The Tenant for Life is a very lively and amusing little 
 thing, in which a ridiculous situation is produced by the impudence of 
 a gentleman lodger, who has made up his mind not only to hold 
 possession of his apartments in spite of a notice to quit, liut to marry 
 the young widow, who is mistress of the house, whether she will have 
 him or no. Miss Eliza Travers, as a lodging-house Abigail ; Mr. 
 Belford, as the intrusive gentleman ; and ilr. Fenton, as his man- 
 servant, played the best parts with immense success. The fun of it 
 effervesced very well, and produced continual laughter." 
 
 " Mr. Phelps has added another to the long list of characters in 
 which he has gained the triumphs of his professional life. He 
 appeared on Saturday se'nnight as Justice Shallow, in the Second 
 Part of King Henry IV. It is now nearly ten years since this play 
 was represented in London ; and, Avith all reverence to its immortal 
 author, it is not, in very many respects, suited to the taste of the 
 present generation. It is but an accommodation of terms to call it an 
 historical drama at all, for the historical incidents are but few, and are 
 treated as pegs on which to hang the humours of the piece. Those 
 humours, though in a certain sense of a savoury and spicy order, and 
 though bristling and sparkling with true Shakespearean touches, are 
 hardly in a modern tone ; and, however valuable as picture-glimpses 
 of tlie manners of a certain class in centuries gone by, out of place 
 in our day. Falstalf, 13ardol[ih, Pistol, Poins, Dame Quickly, and 
 Tearsheet will always keep their own peculiar game alive ; and it is 
 a lively game at which tliey play : but the game is peculiar, and it 
 has unquestionably gone out of flxshion on the English stage. In the 
 rollicking fun and ladiant genialities of The Merry Wives of Windsor 
 the Falstaffian element will never become wearisome ; and when its 
 pranks and (juips are ccpially balanced by the imposing activities of 
 court, political, and military life, or by lofty moral illustration, or the 
 subtle development of character, it will be welcomed as a pleasant 
 though very familiar relief to the graver uses of the stage. In the 
 Second Part of King Henry YK., however, it constitutes the domin- 
 ating element in the drama, whicli, chielly on that account, jierhaps, 
 is not very likely ever to be a jxipular entertainment. Nevertheless, 
 there are parts in it which will always form favourite studies for
 
 240 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 artists of the highest school ; and, of these, Justice Shallow is 
 unquestionably the most interesting and the most important, as 
 contemplated from the histrionic point of view. Justice Shallow is a 
 striking embodiment of some of the leading principles of human 
 nature ; a singularly complete personification of a singularly definite 
 type of manhood, and he thus offers abundant sco])e both to the 
 conceptive and the interpretive powers of the actor. Mr. Phelps has 
 read the character well ; he exemplifies it admirably. It is not 
 enough to say that the make-up is in an extraordinary degree life-like, 
 nor that the portraiture is marvellously consistent and unique. There 
 is actual vitality in the impersonation. We have more than a dress 
 and a manner before us : we have a character, in which cupidity and 
 ambition, both ridiculous by reason of the native imbecility of the 
 mind, beat in the heart, leer out from the face, and animate the very 
 feebleness of the old man. The mock merriment, the abject syco- 
 phancy, the official fussiness and incapacity, the senile volubility, the 
 utter intellectual weakness which are combined in the part were 
 blended with striking effect in the representation. Indeed, this 
 performance was one of the most triumphantly perfect, in idea and in 
 art, on which we have ever had occasion to compliment Mr. Phelps. 
 
 " We need hardly say that King Henry IV. received an equally 
 impressive representation in the fourth act. This part was also 
 undertaken by Mr. Phelps ; and though it is one in which he has 
 been frequently seen, he achieved a success as complete as though the 
 performance had been an absolute novelty. The beautiful soliloquy 
 on sleep was perfectly spoken ; the expostulation with young Harry 
 received all the subdued intensity of love and solicitude and death, 
 and the recognition of the son's goodness of heart and purpose was so 
 finely accomplished that it is hardly too much to say that the whole 
 house was in tears. 
 
 " Mr. Edmund Phelps as Prince Henry was neither so sprightly in 
 action nor so emphatic or easy in speech as we have sometimes found 
 him. The Falstaff of Mr. Barrett was in most respects a meritorious 
 performance. A slight excess of physical agility was its greatest 
 fault. Sir John, according to our notions, was too fat to be always 
 twirling and swinging his Avalking-stick about — a feature which might 
 more appropriately mark a modern dandy of ordinary dimensions. 
 The other parts were but indifferently filled." 
 
 The Islington Gazette of SOtli January, 1858, in connection 
 with Mr. Phelps's production of Macbeth at Her Majesty's 
 Theatre on the occasion of the nuptials of the Princess Royal 
 (which has been already alluded to), contained the following : — 
 
 "It is doubtless in the recollection of most of our readers that on 
 Tuesday, the 19th, a series of theatrical performances, intended to 
 celebrate the marriage of the Princess Eoyal with the Prince of
 
 MACBETH AT HER MAJESTY'S THEATRE. 241 
 
 Prussia, was commenced by Mr. Phelps and the members of the 
 Sadler's "Wells company. The Queen was present ; and the play 
 selected was Macbeth. 
 
 " The event itself would call for only a passing notice at our hands. 
 Mr. Phelps has acted before the Queen on previous occasions, and 
 though of course he felt honoured, as all her subjects would, by 
 contributing in any manner to her amusement or gratification, he has 
 achieved too high and too deserved a reputation by his industry and 
 talents to boast much of such patronage. 
 
 " The occurrence, however, called forth certain remarks in the 
 Times of the following day, so disparaging to Mr. Phelps and so 
 absurdly laudatory of Mr. Kean, that, as Sadler's Wells and its 
 reputation is a sort of local institution, we feel bound to offer a few 
 observations on the subject. 
 
 " The Times says that a Shakespearean play without Mr. Ivean 
 is like a ' Lord Mayor's Show without the Lord Mayor.' The re- 
 semblance between the Lord Mayor's Show and a Shakespearean 
 tragedy (by Kean) is complete enough : but who goes to see the 
 Lord jNIayor? 
 
 " This most unfortunate simile is followed by an assertion which 
 Mr. Kean's friends have repeated so often that he must almost begin 
 to believe it himself. We quote the exact words : — ' My. Charles 
 Kean has made the Princess's Theatre the acknowledged home of the 
 Shakespearean drama.' If gorgeous scenery and elaborate decorations, 
 with every musical, mechanical, and scientific appliance can make a 
 home for the drama, there is no question that the cbama must be 
 thoroughly at home at the Princess's. But these things are no more 
 substitutes for that Hteral emiiodiment of an author's meaning which 
 makes a home for the drama, than the stately apartments and painted 
 walls of a palace would be substitutes to an individual for the kindly 
 sympathies and genial intercourse which make his home. 
 
 " The painter, the tailor, and the upholsterer are Mr. Kean's 
 interpreters of Shakespeare. The best of their kind, no doubt ; but 
 these are servants in our school of the drama, not teachers. The 
 palace Pichard II. lived in, the clothes he wore, and the throne he 
 sat upon, may all be seen at the Princess's. But how about the 
 King] He is miserably deceived who fancies he has seen anything 
 like him in Oxford Street. In life and in Shakespeare a palace is 
 made for a king to live in, and a throne for a king to sit upon ; but 
 at the Princess's the order of things is reversed. There a king ojaly 
 completes the repres'fentation of a palace, and adds — by his robes— to 
 the grandeur of the throne. An actor at tliat theatre bears a strong 
 analogy to the wooden dummy Avhich a tailor exhibits in proof of 
 his skill. 
 
 "Tlio little importance which Mr. Kean attaches to good acting 
 needs no otlier proof than the fact of his generally taking the principal 
 character himself. An extremely insignificant figure, a voice without 
 compass, depth, or richness, and a delivery in the highest degree 
 
 u
 
 242 LIFE-WOEK OF PHELPS. 
 
 monotonous and ineffective are his principal characteristics. It is 
 not enough to say he is not an actor ; he has not a single attribute 
 of an actor. And this is the man whose theatre, according to the 
 Times, ' holds an exclusive rank for the performance of the tragic 
 drama.' 
 
 " In the exliibition of theatrical spectacles every one will allow that 
 Mr. Kean is unrivalled ; but Sadler's Wells is as much before the 
 Princess's in point of acting as the Princess's is before Sadler's Wells 
 in point of scenery. For the simple reason that scenery is an adjunct 
 of acting, and not, as Mr. Kean's friends suppose, acting an adjunct 
 of scenery, we claim a higher rank for Mr. Phelps's management than 
 Mr. Kean's. We do this on the same principle as we should pronounce 
 Shakespeare in a plain sheepskin a better book than Kotzebue in 
 gilded morocco. 
 
 " The luxury and pomp of Eoman manners, and the magnificence 
 of the imperial government, were never so conspicuous as when the 
 strength of the empire was decaying, and its safeguards neglected. 
 So, to compare small things with great, Mr. Kean and his imitators 
 are investing with a meretricious splendour the remains of a drama 
 whose vitality they have helped to destroy. 
 
 " If ever there be, as we yet hope there may, a general revival of 
 dramatic taste, and a true reverence for the works of our great 
 dramatist, we may safely prophesy that Mr. Kean will come to be 
 regarded as a master showman, and the Princess's as a kindred 
 establishment with Madame Tussaud's. 
 
 ' ' Our hopes of such revival now rest almost entirely on Sadler's 
 Wells. We cannot perhaps see there so masterly a personation of 
 every character as our fathers had at the patent theatres, but we can 
 depend on a faithful and able presentation of the author's meaning 
 by the company, and a real appreciation of the author's merits by 
 the audience. ' It is impossible to regard the Pentonville district,' 
 says the Times, 'as the focus of the metropolitan drama.' The sapient 
 critic here seems to regard as the ' focus of the drama ' the centre of 
 the metropohs ! On this ground it would be as difficult to maintain 
 the claims of Sadler's Wells as it would be easy to upset those of 
 the Princess's. 
 
 " We had intended to notice the demonstration made by Mr. 
 Kean's friends at his own theatre, on the night of the Macbeth 
 performance at Her Majesty's. We have only space now to express 
 om' astonishment that amongst all the reasons alleged, and surmises 
 as *o the reasons, for the omission of Mr. Kean's name on the 
 occasion, the very simple one that he cannot act Macbeth, and could 
 .not easily transport to Her Majesty's the stage properties which at 
 the Princess's he shows in lieu of it, does not seem to have occurred 
 %o any one."
 
 GEEMAN CRITICISM OX PHELPS. 243 
 
 A Hamburg paper, Die Freischutz, of the 7th of May, 1859, 
 had the following : — 
 
 , Stadt Theatre. 
 
 " On Thursday last Phelps, the celehrated English actor, and the 
 company he has brought over to Germany, produced the -tragedy of 
 King Lear, — almost to empty benches. It is inconceivable how so 
 manj' rich Englishmen as there are in Hamburg should have neglected 
 an opportunity which tends more than any other to throw a brilhancy 
 on the development of the dramatic art in their mother country. The 
 national feeling ■which they talk so much about was on this occasion 
 ' nowhere.' It was not so when the English dancer visited these 
 boards ; English faces were then to be seen in parquet, parterre, and in 
 every part of the house ; and the applause awarded to her was certainly 
 patriotic, and the more patriotic because, in an artistic point of view, 
 she did not exceed mediocrity. Phelps, whose talent cannot be un- 
 known to them, and who ranks in the category of Ififland and Ludwig 
 Devrient, should have been the more heartily welcomed by Germans, 
 inasmuch as those who call his language their own had other tilings 
 to do than to trouble themselves about him. But the number of 
 theatrical connoisseurs present made his triumph the greater. The 
 enthusiastic applause with which he was greeted by a foreign audience 
 must have more tlian compensated him for the apathy of his country- 
 men. Phelps is a male Ristori, as true to nature and as careful in 
 study, as genial and free in production, and as obedient to rule as the 
 celebrated Italian. His Lear is a living fact ; he is an artistic creation 
 in the highest sense of the word. We cannot especially notice any 
 particular scene, for each is a necessary consequence of its predecessor. 
 It is thus that the man must have stood before the bard, a man who, 
 ' every inch a king,' had — by his hasty passion, by his rash, hot-blooded, 
 and thoughtless act, by his rejection alike of love and hate, and by his 
 injustice m giving and taking — called down the powers of darkness 
 upon himself. The nervous, kingly old man, with shaking head and 
 trembling hands, stood living before us in the ruin of his power, in 
 his overthrow by his two daughters, in the curse thundering over tlieir 
 ungrateful heads, and in the madness which preceded his death. The 
 expression of his passion followed the course of events step by step, 
 and the climax was rooted in the design of the character. Phelps is 
 a master, and we are sorry that so many of the peo]de in Hamburg 
 Avho appreciate dramatic art, and who understand the English language, 
 — and even those who do not, — have denied themselves the privileges 
 of seeing him in Lear. We are sorry for their own sakes, for Phelps 
 remains Phelps, be the first rank places empty or full. 
 
 " DOKNBUSCU." 
 
 K 2
 
 244 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 The following is an abstract of the proceedings at the twelfth 
 anniversary festival of the Royal General Theatrical Fund, held 
 at the Freemasons' Tavern, Great Queen Street, on Monday, 
 April 6th, 1857, when Mr. Pheljis took the chair. 
 
 Patroness : — Her Most Gracious Majesty, the Queen. 
 
 Vice-Presidents : — His Grace the Duke of Devonshire, K.G., 
 the Eight Hon. the Earl Fitzhardinge, the Eight Hon. the Earl of 
 Longford, the Eight Hon. tlie Lord Tenterden, the Lord Ernest 
 Bruce, the Lord Viscount Eaynham, M.P., Baron L. De Eoths- 
 child, M.P., Sir Charles Ibbetson, Bart., Sir Edwin Landseer, Hon. 
 F. Henry F. Berkeley, M.P., Sir Bellinghani Graham, Bart., Sir 
 Edward Bulwer Lytton, Bart., M.P. , Thomas Slingsby Duncombe, 
 Esq., M.P., B. Bond Cabbell, Esq., M.P., F.E.S^ F.S.A., John 
 Brady, Esq., M.P. ; Alderman Wm. Cubitt, M.P., Charles Hill, Esq., 
 Donald J^icoll, Esq., M.P. [Past Sheriffs of London and Middlesex); 
 A. Arcedeckne, Esq., William P. Bathe, Esq., Eobert Bell, Esq., Jules 
 Benedict, Esq., W. Henry West Betty, Esq., Alpheus C. Billiugs,Esq., 
 Gustavus Vaughan Brooke, Esq., Hubert de Burgh, Esq., William 
 S. Burton, Esq., Captain Chappell, E.N., T. P. Cooke, Esq., Wm. 
 Cooke, Esq., William Creswick, Esq., Horatio Grosvenor Day, Esq., 
 Charles Dickens, Esq., John Dillon, Esq., John Douglass, Esq., — 
 Elkington, Esq., William Farren, Esq., Walter T. Fawcett, Esq., John 
 Forster, Esq., Thomas L. Greenwood, Esq., Luke James Hansard, Esq., 
 John Hastings, Esq., M.D., Henry Hill, Esq., J. Ireland, Esq., Edwin 
 James, Esq., Q.C., J. W. Janowin, Esq., T. J. Jerwood, Esq., Charles 
 Kean, Esq., Captain James Lamont, E.N., Mark Lemon, Esq., Ben- 
 jamin Lumley, Esq., W. C. Macready, Esq., Charles Manby, Esq., C.E., 
 E. Monckton Milnes, Esq., M.P., Andrew F. W. Montague, Esq., 
 Nathaniel Montefiore, Esq., Bertie Mostyn, Esq., Wm. Niblo, Esq., of 
 New York, H. M. Parker, Esq., John Penn, Esq., H. W. Phillips, 
 Esq., David Eoberts, Esq., E.A., Philip Salomans, Esq., W. Eaymond 
 Sams, Esq., Mercer H. Simpson, Esq., Albert Smith, Esq., E. T. 
 Smith, Esq., of the Theatre Eoyal, Drury Lane, Edward Stirhng, Esq., 
 Cliarles Taylor, Esq., Tom Taylor, Esq., William Vaiisittart, Esq., 
 James W. Wallack, Esq., J. William Wallack, Esq., Z. Watkins, Esq., 
 Benjamin Webster, Esq., Alfred Wigan, Esq., William Willott, Esq., 
 Barney Williams, Esq., Forbes Winslow, Esq., M.D. 
 
 Honorary Solicitor : — Thomas J. Jerwood, Esq., Ely Place. 
 
 Honorary Treasurer : — J. B. Buckstone, Esq. 
 
 Honorary Physician: — John Hastings, Esq., M.D., Albemarle 
 
 Street. 
 
 Secretary : — Mr. Cullenford, Theatre Eoyal, Haymarket.
 
 ROYAL THEATEICAL FUND DINNER. 245 
 
 " To SAMUEL PHELPS, ESQ. 
 
 "My Dear Sir, 
 
 " In behalf of the Directors and Members of the Eoyal 
 General Theatrical Fund, I feel great pleasure m acknowledging 
 the signal service rendered to us by your excellent Chairmanship at 
 our Annual Festival, on Monday the Sixth of April last, at the 
 Freemasons' Tavern. 
 
 " Being aware that you had never before undertaken a like office, and 
 of your reluctance to be placed before the public in such a position, 
 we feel it our duty doubly to thank you for overcoming your scruples 
 to serve us, and to assure you of the gratification your presence and 
 your well-directed efforts in our cause gave to every well-wisher of 
 the Institution. 
 
 " And believe me, 
 
 " Very truly yours, 
 
 " JOHN B. BUCKSTOXE, 
 " Hon. Treasurer." 
 
 The twelfth anniversary dinner in celebration of this most excellent 
 institution took place in the grand hall of the Freemasons' Tavern, 
 Great Queen Street, on Monday, April 6th, on which occasion nearly 
 200 patrons and admirers of the drama were present. 
 
 The chair was occupied by Samuel Phelps, Esq., supported by Sir 
 Charles Ibbetson, Bart. ] Charles Dickens, Mark Lemon, J. B. Buck- 
 stone, T. P. Cooke, AV. Creswick, Under-Sheriff Crosley, Frederic 
 Ledger, Wellington Vallance, E. T. Smith,. J. Scott, Alpheus C. 
 Billings, Edward Warwick, Zachariah Watkins, J. U. Janowin, T. 
 J. Jerwood, Pt. J. Campbell, M.P., W. Williams, John Matthews, 
 Wm. Eaymond Sams, Wm. J. Burton, John Hastings, M.D., Dr. G. 
 R. Rowe, Charles Gardiner Guthrie, Martin Pratt, J. L. Toole, Stoc- 
 queler, C. Raigh, Escjrs. A considerable number of elegantly attired 
 ladies occupied raised benches, covered with crimson cloth, at th(3 back 
 of the chair. The gallery facing the chair was also filled with a 
 large number of the fair sex, whose presence contributed in no small 
 degree to enliven and give an additional zest to the very highly inter- 
 esting proceedings of the evening. In the course of the evening, and 
 between the various speeches and toasts, the vocalists exercised their 
 powers in a way that called forth the warmest and heartiest manifesta- 
 tions of approbation and satisfaction on the part of the audience. 
 
 After the removal of the cloth. 
 
 The Chairman, who, on rising, was received with much cheering 
 and clapping of hands, which lasted several moments, said : Gentlemen, 
 — The members of the Royal General Tlieatrical Fund, and who are 
 interested in its present w(!ll-})eing and future ])rosp(;rity, are to a 
 double charge of duty bound when I call upon them to drink the
 
 246 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 health of her Majesty, (Cheers.) First, gentlemen, as loyal and 
 dutiful subjects tendering our love and homage to her who has well 
 deserved them at our hands ; and next, to the munificent patroness, 
 to the kind-hearted and henevolent lady who has for the eleventh 
 time increased the funds of this institution by adding thereto the sum 
 of £100 (loud cheers) ; gentlemen, let the glass raised to our lips be 
 the outward symbol of our inward wishes, that each year of her life 
 may be but a step in advance towards the goal of happiness, and 
 when " old Time shall bring her to her end, goodness and she fill up 
 one monument." (Much cheering.) 
 
 The toast was drunk with three times three, amid the most enthu- 
 siastic cheering ; after which the vocalists sang " God save the Qiieen," 
 in a style which elicited much applause. 
 
 The Chairman : Gentlemen, — Next in order as in love, Prince 
 Albert, the illustrious consort of our Queen, claims our best remem- 
 brance. For the first time for many years the " Prince of Wales " 
 has again become familiar in English mouths. Let us hope that he 
 may live to be blessed at the hearths and revered upon the throne 
 of these realms — link his name with his Royal father's and the rest 
 of the Eoyal Family, and " e'en let us toast them together." (Cheers.) 
 
 The toast was drunk with enthusiasm. 
 
 The Chairman : Gentlemen, — We are met this evening to advance the 
 interests and to promote the welfare, by adding, I hope, to the funds 
 of this association. Its objects are well known to many, perhaps to 
 most, probably not to all of you, although its cause has been pleaded 
 year after year, at this annual festival, " by lips upon whose accents you 
 have loved to dwell " — by men whose eloquence has been of sufficient 
 power to stir the hearts, aye, and open the purses too, of such as I 
 should conceive more flifficidt to move than the assemblage I see 
 around me — an assemblage composed of men avowedly living under 
 the softening influences of the drama, literature, and the fine arts. 
 (Loud cheers.) Knowing, gentlemen, how much has been said, and 
 well said too, in behalf of this institution, by my predecessors in the 
 office I hold this evening, I feel most painfully my inferiority to those, 
 who have gone before me. (" No, no," and cheers.) I assure you, 
 gentlemen, that nothing but a sense of duty and deference to the 
 opinions of others has induced me to appear before you in a new 
 character, in which I feel myself to be, and one in which I am sure 
 you will find me indeed very imperfect. (" 'No, no," and cheers.) 
 Gentlemen, if upon my eloquence depend any addition to the funds, 
 or increase of your goodwill towards this association, I am powerless. 
 
 "Gentle breath of yours my sails 
 Must fill, or else my project fails, 
 Which was to plead ; but I want 
 Spirits to enforce, art to enchant, 
 And my ending is despair 
 Unless I be relieved by prayer, 
 Which pierces so that it assaults 
 Mercy itself, and frees all faults."
 
 SPEECH OF MR. PHELPS. 247 
 
 Let me, then, ask you good-naturedly to let your imaginations in some 
 degree supply my deficiencies, and think what might be said by one 
 more competent to the task, in behalf of an institution having for its 
 objects to render easy the declining years of those who have spent their 
 lives in ministering, saying the least, to the pleasures, the gratifications, 
 but I would rather say to the intellectual enjoyments of others, through 
 the medium of as delightful, as humanizmg — ay, and as noble an art, 
 when rightly directed, as can employ the faculties, mental and physical, 
 of man. (Loud cheers.) Gentlemen, there are few indeed who essay 
 the histrionic profession who are possessed in a high degree of its great 
 requirements ; and even when that is the case, it has been considered a 
 drawback upon the actor's powers that " his creations cease to be when 
 he shall cease to live." But, gentlemen, though that be true, does not 
 the vividness of its present impressions in some degree compensate for 
 its want of permanence 1 (Loud cheers.) What other artist can produce 
 such immediate effects as the actor 1 "What other artist can, as it were, 
 by a single stroke of his wand electrify the heart and brain of assembled 
 thousands — strike a chord that is felt by all at once in a multitude, 
 compelling them involuntarily to acknowledge theu' common nature, and 
 wonder at the power that thus exposes them to each other in all the 
 fullness of their humanity, (Loud cheering.) Gentlemen, I say again, 
 if such be the actor's power — and there are few who will dare deny it 
 — it is an art worthy of employment by the best mental and physical 
 power of any educated man. (Cheers.) And let not the actor himself 
 complain that he lives not with j^osterity, for no other artiste receives 
 the living homage that he does, so that his account is fairly balanced. 
 (Cheers.) Gentlemen, we all know, from testimony at least, that 
 Garrick was for thirty years literally an idol. There may be some 
 few here present who probably remember what myriad subjects bowed 
 to the Siddons and John Kemble's majesty (cheers) ; more whom the 
 flashes of Edmund Kean's genius has impressed with memories never 
 to be effaced (cheers) ; and last, not least, Macready's power (cheers) 
 is still fresh and green in our remembrance. (Long-continued applause.) 
 But the names I have just mentioned are the great wheels in the 
 histrionic luachine, who, in all their vast proportions, stand nobly out 
 to view ; but, gentlemen, save for the little wheels that worked below, 
 obscured from sight and scarcely heard, could ne'er have moved at all, 
 (Cheers.) Gentlemen, it is for the little wheels that I would plead 
 to-night. (Cheers.) But if the actor's power be what I have stated, 
 it must be a productive power, and may be wielded either for great 
 good or nionstrous evil. (Hear, hear.) Now, gentlemen, I may bo 
 permitted, I hope, without intruding m\^elf u})on your notice, to say 
 that thirteen years of experience, in a somewhat peculiar position, has 
 taught me to believe, impels me to assert, aye, and I could prove it (if 
 that which is true of a part be true of the whole), that civilization, in 
 exercising her influences upon great masses of the people, can rccciivo 
 no higher aid than that rendered her by dramatic exhibition. (Much 
 applause.) And it is upon this ground, gentlemen, rather than any
 
 248 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 other, that I would build the claim for support of an institution like 
 this upon society at large, or at least that portion of it who are not 
 so blinded by bigotry, or addle-headed from any other cause, as to 
 detract from that position which the drama ought justly to attain. 
 (Cheers.) Gentlemen, I will not intrude any further upon your time, 
 but will leave the future well-being of the society in your hands. I 
 propose " Continued prosperity, with its lengthening years, to the 
 Royal General Theatrical Fund," and I associate with the toast the 
 name of Mr. Buckstone. (liOud and long-continued cheering.) 
 
 The toast was drunk with the greatest enthusiasm, three times three 
 cheers being given. 
 
 Mr. Buckstone rose, amidst continued applause, and said, — 
 Gentlemen, as this is our first appearance at the Freemasons' Tavern, 
 and the aspect from the stage here not being quite so familiar as the 
 one we have been accustomed to in the City, I trust I shall be excused 
 if I show the trepidation usual on making a first appearance on strange 
 boards. (Cheers and laughter.) At the same time, I hope we shall 
 find that in removing, according to the Post Office directions, from 
 Bishopsgate Street, E.C., to Great Queen Street, W.C, we shall be 
 O.K., Avhich last initials were said to be used by a certain American 
 President when he indorsed any Government papers that he considered 
 all correct. (Laughter.) At all events, gentlemen, whatever may be 
 the result, we have achieved a great advantage by appearing to-night 
 under the management of Mr. Phelps, whose professional experience, 
 acknowledged talent, and great popularity, must insure the curtain 
 falling this evening on a most successful entertainment ; while our 
 ■friends present, and the patrons of the drama, will, I am sure, be 
 glad to hear one fact, that although we have been honoured by titled 
 chairmen and gentlemen of high position presiding over us on these 
 occasions, yet, whenever we have had an actor in the chair, our 
 receipts, to use a technical phrase, have always been greater than at 
 any other time ; therefore, gentlemen, what must we hope they will 
 be to-night, when we have such an actor as Mr. Phelps to appeal to 
 your sympathies, and plead the cause of his brothers and sisters of the 
 stage 1 Gentlemen, I am proud of my profession. (Cheers.) I have 
 great pleasure in announcing to you, as you have already heard from 
 Mr. Phelps, that our Gracious Majesty has again sent us her munificent 
 donation of £100 (cheers), thus proving what a friend that illustrious 
 lady is to the dramatic art — and indeed she is a friend. 
 
 The Chairman : Gentlemen, — It is a fortunate circumstance for 
 any institution depending wholly or in part, as this does, upon public 
 sympathy for support, when it has in association with it men of high 
 position and character, whose names are a warrant that the associa- 
 tion, whatever it be, is worthy of the aid it seeks ; and the General 
 Theatrical Fund has certainly great reason to congratulate itself. 
 (Hear, hear.) We have as trustees Mr. Benjamin Bond Cabbell, an 
 active philanthropist, whose name is generally before us as an author 
 or promoter of some scheme of practical good ; we have Mr. Macready,
 
 SPEECH OF CHARLES DICKENS. 249 
 
 ■who, during his public career, won for himself the high esteem of the 
 great and good throughout the land, and who now makes his private 
 station a post of honour ; and, lastly, gentlemen, we have the man 
 whose name, wherever the Anglo-Saxon tongue is spoken, has become 
 a "household word." (Loud cheering.) lam sure, gentlemen, you 
 will feel with me that any attempt on my part to pronounce a eulogy 
 upon that gentleman would be sim})ly absurd, and I assure you that 
 I should feel myself almost guilty of an act of impertinence were I 
 to attempt it. Gentlemen, will you join with me in drinking the 
 " Health of Mr. Dickens and his Fellow Trustees?" (Loud cheers.) 
 
 Mr. Dickens, who, on rising, was enthusiastically cheered for some 
 moments, said : Gentlemen, I have to acknowledge the toast which 
 has been associated by our chairman with such flattering encomiums, 
 and by you with so kind a welcome. Before I do so, I wish to offer 
 a word of explanation in reference to a very startling remark which 
 has fallen from my right hon. friend, the member for the Haymarket. 
 (Laughter and cheers.) Gentlemen, God forbid that I should have 
 any electioneering designs upon any constituency whatever. My way 
 of life, my delight in life, my means of usefulness in life, such as they 
 are, have long been chosen, and I assure you that I have no intention 
 of canvassing any sects whatever, except that sex whose presence I 
 feel behind me (laughter), of whose presence I also have a deep 
 perception, appropriately seated in the clouds above me ; and that 
 other sex whose presence I see before me. (Eenewed laughter.) 
 Gentlemen, with this word of explanation, allow me, as one of your 
 trustees, to express the gratification that we feel, in which I have no 
 doubt you participate, in the very prosperous budget which has been 
 presented to us to-night by my right hon. friend, and allow me also 
 to express our great satisfaction in finding him, notwithstanding the 
 very frequent appeals he makes to his constituents, still holding the 
 post of Chancellor of the Exchequer. (Much laughter. ) If he should 
 ever, in another phase of that office, as I have heard it whispered ho 
 has some deep prospective intention of doing — if he should ever relieve 
 us of any portion of that income-tax (laughter) which he nightly 
 levies on the public (increased laughter), I hope, as I am sure you 
 do, that in this, and in all his enterprises, he may be triumphantly 
 successful. (Cheers and laughter.) Gentlemen, as I have the honour 
 in this institution to hold an official position, you will readily perceive 
 that I should make a most interesting lengthy speech, but for the 
 unfortunate circumstance that I am held in the bonds of official reserve 
 (laughter), to which unhappy restraint, as the custom is in such cases, 
 I the more gratefully submit, because I have no stateuu;nt wliatever 
 to make, and nothing whatever to say. (Laughter.) I sliall, there- 
 fore, content myself with thanking you on my own part, and on that 
 of my ff'.llow trustcfis, for the to;vst you have just drunk, and with 
 announcing that I shall beg the cliainiian's p(!rmissiiin to propose 
 another toast when the toast-master shall liave called upon you in 
 due form to charge your glasses. (Much cheering.)
 
 250 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 The toast-master having commanded the company to charge, and 
 his mandate having been obeyed — 
 
 Mr. Dickens rose and said : Gentlemen, — "Wliile I agreed with 
 every part of the excellent address which was made by the chairman 
 in proposing the Fund, I particularly sympathized with that portion 
 of it in which he preferred a claim on the part of the stage to be 
 regarded as a powerful and useful means towards the education of 
 the people. (Hear, hear.) If there ever were a time when the theatre 
 could be considered to have a strong claim to consideration in that 
 respect, it surely is the present. Gentlemen, we have schoolmasters 
 going about like those horrible old women of whom we read in the 
 police reports, perpetually flaying Whittington's cat alive — we have 
 schoolmasters constantly demonstrating on black-boards to infant 
 minds the utter impossibility of " Puss in Boots" ; we have all the 
 giants utterly dead and gone, with half the Jacks passing examinations 
 every day in mental arithmetic ; and with Tom Thumb really only 
 known in these times as the gallant general seeking kisses of the ladies 
 at Qd. a-head in the American market — I say really, gentlemen, in 
 these times, when we have torn so many leaves out of our dear old 
 nursery books, I hold it to be more than ever essential to the character 
 of a great people, that the imagination, with all its innumerable graces 
 and charities, should be tenderly nourished ; and foremost amongst 
 the means of training it, I agree with the chairman, must always 
 stand the stage, with its wonderful pictures of passion, with its 
 maguilicent illusions, and with its glorious literature. (Loud cheers.) 
 But, gentlemen, there is another aspect to which the chairman could 
 not with equal modesty advert, in which a thoroughly well-conducted 
 theatre is of vast importance — that is, not only Avith reference to the 
 public, who so greatly need it, but as a means of sustaining the honour 
 and credit of the dramatic profession itself — as a means of presenting 
 their usefulness to the public in its most striking colours, and as a 
 means of always sustaining them against the reproaches which ignor- 
 ance and malignity have showered upon them with the only liberality 
 of which such qualities are capable. (Cheers.) Gentlemen, an ill- 
 conducted theatre does a world of harm, no doubt. I will not go so 
 far as to say — for that would be going very far indeed — that it does 
 as much harm as a thoroughly ill-conducted school, or a thoroughly 
 ill-conducted chapel ; but it does harm enough, and a great deal more. 
 A thoroughly well-conducted theatre, on the contrary, blots out the 
 sins of a thousand bad ones, and will surely attract to itself the good- 
 will and respect of great numbers of well-meaning and virtuous people, 
 previously objectors, and will conciliate them to understand that what 
 they dreaded in the dramatic art arose not from its use, but from its 
 abuse — not from its exertion, but from its perversion. (Hear, hear.) 
 Now, gentlemen, I perfectly well know that you will all agree with 
 me, that if ever a theatre attained these ends, it is the Theatre, Sadler's 
 Wells. (Loud cheers.) Gentlemen, that theatre, rescued from the 
 wretchedest condiition, from a condition so disgraceful, that if on any
 
 DICKENS PROPOSES PHELPS'S HEALTH. 251 
 
 night in the week the iSTew Eiver Company had poured in tlu'ough its 
 boxes, pit, and gallery — (" No, no ! " ) — the Humane Society could have 
 hardly done a worse thing at one time than have interfered. (" Xo, 
 no ! " ) "With a very bad audience — ("No, no," ) — I beg, in reference 
 to that gentleman's observation who says " No," to state that I have 
 as accurate a knowledge of that theatre as any man in the kingdom, 
 and I say, that with one of the most vagabond audiences that ever 
 went into a theatre utterly displaced from it, and with one of the 
 most intelligent and attentive audiences ever seen attracted to it and 
 retained in it — I believe 1 am not very wrong in my rough calculation 
 when I say, that that theatre has been open under Mr. Phelps's 
 management 3,000 nights, and that during 2,000 of those nights the 
 author represented has been Shakespeare. (Cheers.) Gentlemen, add 
 for the other thousand nights sterling old plays, tragedies, and 
 comedies, many new plays of great merit, accepted with a real sense 
 of managerial responsibility, and paid for, as I have reason to know 
 in the case of a friend, with a spirit and liberality that would have 
 done honour to the old days of the two great theatres — add to that, 
 that all these plays have been produced with the same beauty, with 
 the same delicacy and taste, with the same sensible subservience of 
 the scene-painter and the mechanist to the real meaning of the play — 
 (cheers) — and with the same indebtedness to the creator of the whole 
 for his admirable impersonation of a great variety of most opposite 
 and diversified characters, and surely we must all agree, to say the 
 very least, that the public is under a great debt to the profession — is 
 under a great debt of obligation to Mr. Phelps — and that it has a 
 strong legitimate interest iu the continued success of his undertaking. 
 (Cheers.) Gentlemen, for the public I can only say, that so far as 
 I know it, I have never mixed with any grade or class of it by whom 
 those exertions have failed to be held in the highest respect, or from 
 whom they have failed to elicit the highest approval ; and it may be 
 worthy of remark, tiiat I have found this feeling to exist quite as 
 strongly amongst the intelligent artist classes of Paris as here in 
 London. Gentlemen, on the other hand, for the profession, Mr. 
 Phelps's position here to-night, and our recognition of him in it, are 
 an ample and sufficient answer. He is here before you in a double capa- 
 city — firstly, as the mind of the theatre in whicli the English drama 
 has fomid a home, and in whicli the most graceful homage is rendered 
 to the noblest of all dramatists — that he has there a body of students 
 behind the curtain, and a body of students before the curtain, striving 
 together to appreciate and extol him ; Mr. Phelps is also here in the 
 other capacity of one whose life and labour are a constant credit, and 
 a constant honour too, and a constant sustainer of the dignity and 
 credit of his art, (Loud cheers.) Gentlemen, in this double capacity 
 I am perfectly sure you are ready, for tlie second time, to give ]\Ir. 
 Phelps a double welcome. I am perfectly sure you will receive the 
 toast, which is his health, with a double acclamation, and that you 
 will unite in a double expression of your best wishes for his success, 
 health, liajtpiness, and prosperity.
 
 252 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 Mr. Phelps, who, on rising, was most loudly and enthusiastically 
 cheered, said : Gentlemen, — I dare say in this large world of London 
 there are a great many used-up men who would give something 
 considerable to have excited in them a new sensation. Gentlemen, 
 this is the second time in my life that I ever entered a public room, 
 and I assure you that you have impressed one upon me, and one 
 which I should be very glad to transfer to any used-up man that 
 required it, because with it you have imposed upon me an obligation 
 which I find some difficulty in acquitting myself of. I have often 
 laughed when reading — for I never saw it but once — of gentlemen 
 in my position being highly complimented in a public assembly, 
 frequently saying, upon rising, they want words to express their 
 feelings. (Laughter.) Gentlemen, I assure you that I shall never 
 laugh again, for I plead guilty to being in the same position myself 
 at the present moment. While listening just now to what Mr. 
 Dickens has so kindly said of me, and believing from the equally 
 kind Avay in which you responded to it, that I am at all events a 
 decent member of society — (cheers) — a circumstance occurred to my 
 mind which I had almost forgotten, for it was too contemptible to 
 remain there long. It occurred to me just now, however, and it may 
 perhaps afford you some little amusement if I relate it. Some years 
 after I had established myself in Sadler's Wells Theatre, and had 
 lived for an equal number of years in the house that I at present 
 inhabit, believing myself to be performing tolerably well the duties 
 of a good citizen, and acting 2)aterfamilias to my entire satisfaction, 
 it so happened that I required to place one of my family, a very 
 young lady indeed, — seven or eight years of age, I will not be positive 
 which, — but it so happened that I required to place her in what is 
 commonly called an educational establishment, and being so exces- 
 sively young, I was anxious to do so in some place near my home, 
 not liking to send her at that tender age to her sisters, who were 
 educating abroad. At length I found what I conceived to be the 
 very thing. A lady residing very near my own house professed to 
 receive under her roof a very limited number of pupils indeed. I 
 think ten or a dozen was the extent, and being very select it was 
 rather expensive. (Laughter.) But, however, I thought it would 
 answer my purpose exceedingly well. Accordingly my little girl 
 was consigned to the care of this lady. She was with her some few 
 weeks, and I heard from her governess that she was an exceedingly 
 amiable child, and remarkably intelligent — much more so, if I remem- 
 ber right, she told me, than any other of her ten or a dozen pupils. 
 Of course, I Avas very much pleased to hear that. Time went on, 
 and a half year's vacation occurred. The little girl came home — the 
 vacation expired — she went back to school, and was sent home again. 
 Good God ! I thought, what is amiss 1 What horrid crime can that 
 little wretch have perpetrated? (Laughter.) Her mother started off 
 in alarm, and had an interview with the schoolmistress, who thus 
 explained herself : — "I have under my roof three young ladies, sisters 
 — daughters, ]\[rs. Phelps, of a gentleman who is an immediate
 
 LIST OF PLAYS PRODUCED. 
 
 253 
 
 neighbour of yours. He has been to me, and threatened to remove 
 his tliree daughters from under my roof if I persist in receiving little 
 Miss Phelps as a pupil, for he will not allow his children to be 
 educated under the same roof with an actor's." (Laughter.) Gen- 
 tlemen, the moral of this story is, that, either in honouring my name 
 as you have just done, you have evidently committed a great error, 
 or the gentleman in question acted the part of a great fool. (Cheers 
 and laughter.) Gentlemen, I have somewhat wandered from my 
 subject, but I really thought, in the middle of the nineteenth century, 
 such an anecdote might afford you some little amusement. It never 
 afforded me anything else, I assure you. (Cheers.) Gentlemen, I 
 will now propose as a toast, if you please, in its widest and fullest 
 sense, " The Drama," and above all dramas, the great, the magnificent, 
 national drama of England, and I beg to couple with that toast the 
 name of my friend and fellow-labourer, Mr. Creswick. (Loud and 
 prolonged cheering.) 
 
 The toast having been duly responded to, and three times three 
 having been given, Mr. Creswick returned thanks ; after which Mr. 
 Mark Lemon proposed " The Ladies," a toast which was enthusiastic- 
 ally received, and honoured with three times three. 
 
 LIST OF PLAYS 
 
 PRODUCED BY ME. PHELPS AT SADLER'S WELLS. 
 
 Macbeth. 
 
 Othello. 
 
 The Stranger. 
 
 The Jealous Wife. 
 
 Werner. 
 
 The Merchant of Venice. 
 
 The School for Scandal. 
 
 Virginius. 
 
 The Rivals. 
 
 Hamlet. 
 
 The Wife. 
 
 The Road to Ruin. 
 
 The Bridal. 
 
 A New Way to Pay Old Debts. 
 
 King John. 
 
 The City Madam. 
 
 The Lady of Lyons. 
 
 The Wonder. 
 
 The Priest's Daughter. 
 
 Richard III. 
 
 Wild Oats. 
 
 The Soldier's Daughter. 
 
 The Iron Chest. 
 
 Henry VIII. 
 
 Every One Has His Fault. 
 
 William Tell. 
 
 The King's Friend. 
 
 The Florentines. 
 
 Richeheu. 
 
 Love. 
 
 The Gamester. 
 
 Venice Preserved. 
 
 The Fatal Dowry. 
 
 The Hunchback. 
 
 Isabella. 
 
 Pizarru.
 
 254 
 
 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 King Lear. 
 
 Evadne. 
 
 The Winter's Tale. 
 
 Douglas. 
 
 Money. 
 
 Jane Shore. 
 
 Judge Jeffries. 
 
 Henry IV., Part I. 
 
 Julius Csesar. 
 
 Love's Sacrifice. 
 
 The Patrician's Daughter. 
 
 Komeo and Juliet. 
 
 Measure for Measure. 
 
 Damon and Pythias. 
 
 Ion. 
 
 A Kin Of and No Kinsf. 
 
 Feudal Times. 
 
 The Tempest. 
 
 Town and Country. 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 Cymbeliue. 
 
 The Provost of Bruges. 
 
 The Heir at Law. 
 
 John Savile of Haysted. 
 
 The Poor Gentleman. 
 
 As You Like It. 
 
 The Steward. 
 
 Twelfth Night. 
 
 The Merry Wives of Windsor. 
 
 The Way to Keep Him. 
 
 Coriolanus. 
 
 Rule a Wife and Have a Wife. 
 
 Much Ado About Nothing. 
 
 A Blot in the 'Scutcheon. 
 
 The Honest Man's Fortune. 
 
 All in the Wrong. 
 
 Calaynos. 
 
 The Will. 
 
 The Castle Spectre, 
 
 The Honeymoon. 
 
 The School of Reform. 
 
 The Belle's Stratagem. 
 
 The Love Chase. 
 
 She Would and She Would Not. 
 
 Antony and Cleopatra. 
 
 The Busy Body. 
 
 She Stoops to Conquer. 
 
 Garcia. 
 
 Retribution. 
 
 Fazio. 
 
 The Mountaineers. 
 
 A Bold Stroke for a Husband. 
 
 The Lesjend of Florence. 
 
 The Cavalier. 
 
 The Duchess of Malfi. 
 
 Brutus. 
 
 The Good Natured Man. 
 
 Man and Wife. 
 
 The Bride of Ludgate. 
 
 The Prisoner of War. 
 
 Timon of Athens. 
 
 Secrets Worth Knowing. 
 
 Ingomar. 
 
 The Critic. 
 
 The Man of the World. 
 
 The Provoked Husband. 
 
 James VI. 
 
 The West Indian. 
 
 All's Well that Ends Well. 
 
 The Merchant's Wedding. 
 
 A Woman Never Vext. 
 
 Might and Right. 
 
 King Henry V. 
 
 Speed the Plough. 
 
 Henry IV., Part II. 
 
 Pericles, Prince of Tyre. 
 
 The Comedy of Errors. 
 
 The Two Gentlemen of Verona. 
 
 Love's Labour's Lost. 
 
 Louis XI. 
 
 The Fool's Revenge. 
 
 A Midsummer Nic^ht's Dream 
 
 Hamilton of Bothwellhaugh. 
 
 The Taming of the Shrew. 
 
 The Clandestine Marriage. 
 
 The Wheel of Fortnne. 
 
 Rob Roy.
 
 PLAYS PRODUCED BY MACREADY. 
 
 255 
 
 Plays produced by Mr. Macready during Ms four seasons of 
 
 management. 
 
 THEATRE ROYAL, COVENT GARDEN". 
 
 Season, 1837 and 1838. 209 Is'ights. 
 
 FIKST PIECES. 
 
 TIMES 
 REPRESENTED. 
 
 TIMES 
 FIRST PIECES. REPRESENTED. 
 
 Amilie, or The Love Test 33 
 
 Love in a Village 
 
 ... 1 
 
 As Yoa Like It 
 
 1 
 
 Lord of the Manor . 
 
 1 
 
 Bridal 
 
 ... 7 
 
 Macbeth 
 
 ... 18 
 
 Barbers of Bassora 
 
 4 
 
 Marriage of Figaro . 
 
 1 
 
 Coriolanus 
 
 ... 8 
 
 Novice 
 
 ... 3 
 
 Guy Mannering 
 
 1 
 
 Othello 
 
 3 
 
 Hamlet 
 
 ... 3 
 
 Provoked Husband 
 
 ... 3 
 
 Hunchback ... 
 
 2 
 
 Rob Roy 
 
 2 
 
 Hypocrite 
 
 ... 2 
 
 Riches 
 
 ... 1 
 
 Ion 
 
 1 
 
 Romeo and Juliet 
 
 2 
 
 Joan of Arc 
 
 ... 5 
 
 Stranger ... 
 
 ... 1 
 
 Julius Cffisar ... 
 
 2 
 
 Two Foscari ... 
 
 3 
 
 Jane Shore 
 
 ... 1 
 
 Venice Preserved 
 
 ... 2 
 
 Jealous Wife ... 
 
 1 
 
 Virgin ius 
 
 2 
 
 King Lear 
 
 ... 10 
 
 Winter's Tale 
 
 ... 4 
 
 King Henry V. 
 
 2 
 
 Werner 
 
 10 
 
 King Henry VIII. 
 
 ... 2 
 
 Wonder ... 
 
 ... 3 
 
 Lady of Lyons 
 
 33 
 
 Woman's Wit 
 
 31 
 
 Season, 
 
 1838 and 
 
 1839. 222 Nights. 
 
 
 
 TIMES 
 
 
 TIMES 
 
 FIRST PIECES. 
 
 EEPRESENTED. 
 
 FIRST PIECES.' R 
 
 EPRESENTED. 
 
 As You Like It ... 
 
 ... 4 
 
 Othello 
 
 8 
 
 Coriolanus 
 
 3 
 
 Pantomime 
 
 ... 1 
 
 Cymbeline 
 
 ... ^ 
 
 Provoked Husband . 
 
 1 
 
 Cato 
 
 1 
 
 Rob Roy 
 
 ... 3 
 
 Foresters ... 
 
 ... 1 
 
 Richelieu 
 
 37 
 
 Hamlet 
 
 5 
 
 Stranger ... 
 
 ... 1 
 
 Hunchback 
 
 ... 3 
 
 Town and Country . 
 
 1 
 
 Henrique 
 
 5 
 
 Tempest ... 
 
 ... 55 
 
 Ion 
 
 ... 3 
 
 Two Foscari ... 
 
 1 
 
 Jane Shore ... 
 
 2 
 
 Venice Preserved 
 
 ... 1 
 
 Julius Caesar 
 
 ... 1 
 
 Virginius 
 
 1 
 
 King Lear 
 
 G 
 
 Winter's Tale 
 
 ... 3 
 
 King Henry V. ... 
 
 ... 21 
 
 Werner 
 
 4 
 
 Lady of Lyons 
 
 29 
 
 William Tell 
 
 ... 14 
 
 Macbeth ... 
 
 5 
 

 
 256 
 
 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 THEATRE ROYAL, DRURY LANE. 
 
 Season, 1841 and 1842. 116 I^ights. 
 
 TIMES 
 FIRST PIECE =;. REPRESENTED. 
 
 TIMES 
 FIRST PIECES. REPRESENTED. 
 
 Acis and Galatea ... 29 
 
 Marino Faliero ... ... 2 
 
 Duenna ... ... 1 
 
 Othello 1 
 
 Every One Has His Fault 8 
 
 Point of Honour 3 
 
 Gamester 5 
 
 Plighted Troth ... 1 
 
 Gisippus ... ... ... 20 
 
 Provoked Husband ... 1 
 
 Hamlet ... ... 4 
 
 Stranger ... ... 1 
 
 Merchant of Venice ... 15 
 
 Two Gentlemen of Verona 14 
 
 Macbeth 8 
 
 Venice Preserved ... 3 
 
 Season, 1842 and 1843. 183 Eights. 
 
 FIRST PIECES. 
 
 TIMES 
 REPRESENTED. 
 
 FIRST PIECES. 
 
 As You Like It ... 
 
 Acis and Galatea 
 
 Athelwold 
 
 Blot in the 'Scutcheon 
 
 Cymbeline 
 
 Duenna 
 
 Der Freischutz 
 
 Gamester 
 
 Hamlet 
 
 Jane Shore 
 
 Julius Caesar 
 
 Jealous Wife 
 
 King John 
 
 King Arthur 
 
 King Henry IV 
 
 Katharine and Petruchio 
 
 Love for Love 
 
 La Gazza Ladra 
 
 22 
 7 
 2 
 3 
 4 
 1 
 1 
 1 
 6 
 1 
 3 
 1 
 
 26 
 3 
 2 
 1 
 8 
 2 
 
 TIME."? 
 REPRESENTED. 
 
 Lady of Lyons ... ... 12 
 
 Marino Faliero ... 2 
 
 Macbeth 10 
 
 Much Ado About Nothing 12 
 
 Othello 11 
 
 Provoked Husband ... 1 
 
 Patrician's Daughter ... 11 
 
 Rivals ... ... 3 
 
 Road to Ruin ... ... 2 
 
 Stranger ... ... 1 
 
 She Stoops to Conquer ... 1 
 
 Sappho ... ... 13 
 
 Secretary ... ... ... 3 
 
 School for Scandal ... 1 
 
 Virginius ... ... ... 2 
 
 Werner ... ... 2 
 
 Winter's Tale ... ... 2
 
 PLAYS PRODUCED BY PHELPS. 
 
 25"/ 
 
 Plays produced by Mr. PJieljys during Ids first four seasons of 
 
 management. 
 
 THEATRE ROYAL, SADLER'S WELLS. 
 
 Season, 1844 and 1845. 262 N"ights. 
 
 TIMES 
 FIRST PIECES. REPRESENTED. 
 
 FIRST PIECES. 
 
 TUIES 
 REPRESENTED. 
 
 A New Way to Pay Old 
 
 
 Provoked Husband 
 
 2 
 
 Debts 
 
 3 
 
 Priest's Daughter 
 
 ... 10 
 
 Bridal 
 
 30 
 
 Rivals 
 
 8 
 
 City Madam 
 
 16 
 
 Road to Ruin 
 
 ... 4 
 
 Hamlet 
 
 33 
 
 Richard in. ... 
 
 24 
 
 Hunchback 
 
 2 
 
 Stranger ... 
 
 ... 8 
 
 Iron Cliest 
 
 3 
 
 School for Scandal 
 
 6 
 
 Jealous Wife 
 
 3 
 
 Soldier's Daughter 
 
 ... 3 
 
 King John 
 
 18 
 
 The Wife 
 
 5 
 
 King Henry VIII. 
 
 1 
 
 Virginius ... 
 
 ... 4 
 
 Lady of Lyons 
 
 63 
 
 Werner 
 
 8 
 
 Macbeth 
 
 14 
 
 Wonder ... 
 
 ... 2 
 
 Merchant of Venice . . . 
 
 6 
 
 Wild Oats ... 
 
 3 
 
 Othello 
 
 10 
 
 
 
 Season, 1845 and 1846. 296 Nights. 
 
 FIRST PIECES. 
 
 TIMES 
 REPRESENTED. 
 
 FIRST PIECES. 
 
 TIMES 
 REPRESENTED. 
 
 Bridal 
 
 
 
 7 
 
 King Lear 
 
 ... 10 
 
 Brutus 
 
 • • • 
 
 6 
 
 Love ... 
 
 10 
 
 Douglas ... 
 
 ■ ■ a • • 
 
 4 
 
 Lady of Lyons 
 
 ... 14 
 
 Every One Has His Fault 
 
 3 
 
 Merchant of Venice 
 
 2 
 
 Evadne 
 
 
 4 
 
 Macbeth 
 
 ... 10 
 
 Florentines . . . 
 
 ... 
 
 9 
 
 Money 
 
 15 
 
 Fatal Dowry 
 
 
 13 
 
 Othello 
 
 ... 5 
 
 Gamester 
 
 • • • 
 
 14 
 
 Pizarro 
 
 12 
 
 Henry VIII. 
 
 
 3 
 
 Richelieu ... 
 
 ... 37 
 
 Hunchback 
 
 ... 
 
 2 
 
 Stranger 
 
 7 
 
 Hamlet ... 
 
 
 9 
 
 Venice Preserved 
 
 ... 2 
 
 Isabella 
 
 ... 
 
 7 
 
 Virginius 
 
 5 
 
 Jane Shore 
 
 
 6 
 
 Will iam Tell 
 
 ... 11 
 
 Judge Jctfries 
 
 ... 
 
 9 
 
 Werner 
 
 3 
 
 Julius Caesar 
 
 
 1 
 
 Winter's Tale ... 
 
 ... 45 
 
 King's Friend 
 
 
 11 
 

 
 258 
 
 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 THEATRE ROYAL, SADLER'S WELLS. 
 
 Season, 1846 and 1847. 252 Insights. 
 
 TIMES 
 FIRST PIECES. REPEESESTED. 
 
 TIMES 
 FIRST PIECES. REPRESENTED. 
 
 A King and No King 
 
 12 
 
 Merchant of Venice 
 
 11 
 
 Bertram 
 
 5 
 
 Money 
 
 12 
 
 Damon and Pythias 
 
 3 
 
 Othello 
 
 6 
 
 Feudal Times 
 
 25 
 
 Patrician's Daughter . . . 
 
 13 
 
 Gamester ... 
 
 7 
 
 Provost of Bruges 
 
 1 
 
 Henry IV., Part L ... 
 
 16 
 
 Romeo and Juliet 
 
 15 
 
 Hunchback 
 
 6 
 
 Rivals 
 
 2 
 
 Honeymoon ... 
 
 2 
 
 Road to Ruin 
 
 3 
 
 Hypocrite 
 
 2 
 
 Stranger ... 
 
 7 
 
 Isabella 
 
 6 
 
 School for Scandal ... 
 
 2 
 
 Ion 
 
 2 
 
 The Wife 
 
 2 
 
 Jane Shore 
 
 2 
 
 The Tempest 
 
 22 
 
 Julius Cffisar 
 
 9 
 
 Town and Country 
 
 4 
 
 Love's Sacrifice 
 
 7 
 
 Virginius 
 
 4 
 
 Lady of Lyons 
 
 29 
 
 Venice Preserved 
 
 2 
 
 Measure for Measure... 
 
 13 
 
 
 • 
 
 Season, 1847 
 
 and 
 
 1848. 193 K'iGHTS. 
 
 
 TIMES 
 
 
 TIMES 
 
 FIRST PIECES. REPRESENTED. 
 
 FIRST PIECES. REPRESENTED. 
 
 As You Like It 
 
 12 
 
 Lady of Lyons 
 
 6 
 
 Bridal 
 
 10 
 
 Love 
 
 2 
 
 Cymbeline 
 
 23 
 
 Macbeth 
 
 20 
 
 Evadne 
 
 3 
 
 Money 
 
 8 
 
 Gamester 
 
 1 
 
 Merry Wives of Windsor 
 
 12 
 
 Honeymoon ... 
 
 4 
 
 Provost of Bruges 
 
 4 
 
 Heir at Law 
 
 2 
 
 Patrician's Daughter . . . 
 
 6 
 
 Hamlet 
 
 12 
 
 Poor Gentlemen ... 
 
 2 
 
 Hunchback 
 
 2 
 
 Road to Ruin 
 
 2 
 
 Isabella 
 
 2 
 
 Stranger ... 
 
 3 
 
 Jealous Wife 
 
 2 
 
 Steward 
 
 2 
 
 John Savile of Haysted 
 
 25 
 
 Twelfth Night 
 
 . 16 
 
 King Lear ... 
 
 3 
 
 Werner 
 
 9 
 
 On the following pages will be found the casts of some of the 
 principal plays produced by Mr. Phelps at Sadler's Wells, as 
 well as a few others of great interest.
 
 PLAY-BILLS. 
 
 259 
 
 THEATRE EOYAL, SADLER'S WELLS. 
 
 Licensed by the Lord Chamberlain, under the Act 6 & 7 Victoria, cap. 68. 
 
 Lessee— THOMAS LONGDEN GREENWOOD, Melbourne Cottage, 
 
 White Hart Lane, Tottenham. 
 
 Under the manasirement of 
 
 Mrs. WARNER and Mr. PHELPS, 
 
 Of the Theatres Royal, Drury Lane, Covent Garden, and Haymarket. 
 
 Whit-Monday, Mmj 27fh, 1844, 
 
 THE PERFORMANCES WILL COMMENCE WITH SHAKESPEARE'S PLAY OF 
 
 MACBETH. 
 
 With New Scenery by Messrs. F. Fenton, Morelli, &c. 
 
 Mr. Williams 
 
 > Generals of the King's Army 
 
 f> Noblemen of Scotland 
 
 Duncan (King of Scotland) 
 
 ■n' i/^- ' Sons to the Kins: 
 Donalbain 
 
 MacV)eth 
 
 Banquo 
 
 Macduff 
 
 Lenox 
 
 Rosse 
 
 Menteith 
 
 Angus 
 
 Caitlmess J 
 
 Fleance (Son to Banquo) ... Miss Francis 
 
 Siward (General of the English forces) 
 
 Seyton (an Officer attending on Macbeth) 
 
 Lady Macbeth 
 
 Gentlewoman (attending on Lady Macbeth) 
 
 Hecate 
 
 First Witch 
 
 Second Witch ... Mr. Wilson 
 
 First Singing Witch ... 
 
 Second Singing Witcl 
 
 Mr. Hield 
 
 Miss Thornbury 
 
 Mr. Phelps 
 
 Mr. H. Lacy 
 
 Mr. H. Marston 
 
 Mr. Raymond 
 
 Mr. Aldridge 
 
 Mr. Gregory 
 
 Mr. Johnson 
 _ Mr. Stewart 
 Physician ... Mr. Franks 
 ... Mr. Graham 
 
 Mr. Knight 
 ... Mrs. Warner 
 
 Mrs. H. Makston 
 ... Mr. Clement White 
 
 Mr. Forman 
 Third Witch ... Mr. Morelli 
 ... Miss Lebatt 
 
 Miss Emma Harping 
 
 Other Singing Witches 
 
 Misse§ Pearce, Graham, Morelli, 
 Martin, Oliver, and .Jameson. 
 
 In the course of the evening 
 
 AN ADDRESS (written by T. Serle, Esq.) will be spoken by 
 
 Mrs. Warner. 
 
 After which, a New Operetta, entitled 
 
 THE HUNTER'S BRIDE 
 
 To conclude with a New Farce, written by Mr. Greenwood, illustrative of 
 
 A ROW IN THE BUILDINGS. 
 
 Stage Manager, Mr. Piielps, Acting Manager, Mr. T. L. Greenwood. 
 
 Scene Painters, Messrs. F. Fenton, Finlay, &c. Treasurer, .Mu. Waunku. 
 
 Musical Director & Composer, Mr. W. Montgomkry. 
 
 b 2
 
 2riO 
 
 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, SADLER'S AVELLS. 
 
 Lessee— THOMAS LONGDEN GREENWOOD, Melbourne Cottage, 
 White Hart Lane, Tottenham. 
 
 Under the Management of 
 Mrs. WARNER Ax\d Mr. PHELPS, 
 
 Of the Theatres Royal, Drury Lane, Covent Garden, and Haymarket. 
 
 Mrs. WAE^EE 
 IMiss COOPER Miss EMMA HARDING 
 
 (of the Theatre Royal, Covent Garden) (from the Princess's Theatre) 
 
 Miss LEBATT Mrs. H. MARSTO:^ 
 
 Mr. PHELPS 
 Mr. HUDSON Mr. H. MARSTON 
 
 (of the Theatre Royal, Druiy Lane) 
 
 Mr. JOHN WEBSTER 
 Mr. H. lacy Mr. HIELD 
 
 Mr. binge and Mr. E0R:\IAN 
 
 (of the Theatre Royal, Adelphi) 
 Will appear every evening. 
 
 Monday, June 3rd, Tuesday ith, Wednesday 5th, 1844, 
 
 THE PERFOBMANCES WILL COMMENCE WITH SHAKESPEARE'S PLAY OF 
 
 OTHELLO, 
 
 THE MOOE OF VENICE. 
 
 With New Scenery by Messrs. F. Fenton, Morelli, &c. 
 
 Duke of Venice 
 
 Brabantio (a Senator) ... 
 
 Gratiano (Brother to Brabantio) 
 
 Ludovico (Kinsman to Brabantio) 
 
 Othello (the Moor) 
 
 Cassio (his Lieutenant) 
 
 lago (his Ancient) 
 
 Roderigo (a Venetian Gentleman 
 
 Montano (Othello's Predecessor 
 
 Cyprus) Mr. Binge 
 
 Antonio ... Mr. Franks Julio ... Mr. Sievier Marco ... Mr. Evain 
 Paulo ... Mr. Gregory Messenger ... Mr. Graham 
 
 Desflemona (Daughter to Brabantio and Wife to Othello) Miss Cooper 
 
 Emilia (Wife to iago) Mrs. Warner 
 
 Officers, Gentlemen, Messengers, Musicians, Sailors, Attendants, &c., &c. 
 
 ) 
 
 in the Government 
 
 of 
 
 Mr. Knight 
 Mr. H. Lacy 
 Mr. Morelli 
 Mr. Raymond 
 Mr. Phelps 
 IMr, Hudson 
 Mr. H. Marston 
 Mr. J. Webster 
 
 To be followed by the New and Successful Farce, written by 
 Mr. Greenwood, illustrative of 
 
 A ROW IN THE BUILDINGS. 
 
 To conclude with the Popular Farce, entitled 
 
 W^HERE SHALL I DINE?
 
 PLAY-BILLS. 
 
 261 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, 
 SADLER'S WELLS. 
 
 Lessee— THOMAS LOXGDEN GREENWOOD, Melbourne Cottage, 
 White Hart Lane, Tottenham. 
 
 Under the Management of 
 Mrs. WAUNER and Mr. PHELPS, 
 
 Of the Theatres Royal, Drury Lane, Covent Garden, and Haymarket. 
 
 Monday, July 2Wi, Tuesday and Wednesday, 30th and 3lst, 1844, 
 
 THE PERFOBMANCES WILL COMMENCE WITH SHAKESPEARE'S TRAGEDY OF 
 
 HAMLET, 
 
 PRINCE OF DENMARK 
 
 Claudius (King of Denmark) 
 
 Hamlet (Son to the former, and Nephew to the present 
 
 King) 
 
 Polonins (Lord Chamberlain) 
 Laertes (Son to Polonius) 
 
 Horatio (Friend to Hamlet) ... 
 
 Ojric (a Fop) 
 
 Mr. G. Bennett 
 
 Rosencrantz ) p 
 
 Guildenstern \ 
 
 Marcellus (an Officer) 
 
 Bernardo 
 
 Francisco 
 
 Ghost of Hamlet's Father 
 
 First Player ... Mr. Knight 
 
 First Gravemaker ... Mr. Forman 
 
 Courtiers 
 
 Two Soldiers 
 
 Mr. Phelps 
 Mr. A. YouNGE 
 Mr. J. Webster 
 Mr. Morton 
 Mr. Coreno 
 Mr. Sharpe 
 Mil. C. Fenton 
 Mr. Sievier Sailor ... Mr. Franks 
 
 Mr. Graham 
 Mr. Evain 
 
 Mr. H. Marston 
 
 Second Phiyer ... Mr. Morelli 
 Second Gravemaker ... Mr. Williams 
 
 Gertrude (Queen of Denmark, and Mother of Hamlet) Mrs. Wauner 
 Oplieiia (Daughter to Polonius, and beloved by Hamlet) Miss Lkbatt 
 Actress Miss G. Leb.\tt 
 
 Ladies attending on the Queen 
 
 Misses Thornbury, Hart, Pierce, 
 Sievier, and Grayson. 
 
 After which the Laughable Interlude, called 
 
 BLUE DEVILS. 
 
 To conclude witli the a<lmired Farce, called 
 
 DOMINIQUE THE DESERTER, 
 
 Or, the gentleman IN BLACK.
 
 262 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 THEATEE KOYAL, 
 
 SADLER'S WELLS 
 
 Lessee— THOMAS LONGDEN GREENWOOD, Melbourne Cottage, 
 White Hart Lane, Tottenham. 
 
 Under the Management of 
 
 Mrs. WARNER and Mr. PHELPS, 
 
 Of the Theatres Royal, Drury Lane, Covent Garden, and Haymarket. 
 
 For the benefit of Mr. GREENWOOD. 
 Thursday, Septembei- \Wi, 1844, 
 
 THE PERFORMANCES WILL COMMENCE WITH MASSINGEK's PLAY OF 
 
 A NEW WAY TO PAY OLD DEBTS. • 
 
 Lord Lovel ... . Mr. G. Bennett 
 
 Sir Giles Overreach Mr. Phelps 
 
 Welboru Mr. H. Marston 
 
 AUworth ... Mr. Higgie Furnace ... Mr. Coreno 
 
 Marrall ... Mr. A. Younge Justice Greedy ... Mr. Forman 
 
 Amble ... Mr. Sharpe ' ' ' Order ... Mr. Graham 
 
 Watchall ... Mr. Sievier Tailor ... Mr. C. Fenton 
 
 Tap well ... Mr. Morelli Vintner ... Mr. Evain 
 
 Lady Allworth Mrs. Warner 
 
 Margaret ... Miss Cooper Froth ... Mrs. H. Marston 
 
 Tabitha ... Miss G. Lebatt Abigail ... Miss Morelli 
 
 To be followed by the laughable Farce, called 
 
 GAME AND GAME. 
 
 To conclude with the favourite Farce, entitled 
 
 YOUTH, LOVE, AND FOLLY.
 
 PLAY-BILLS. 263 
 
 THEATKE ROYAL, SADLEK'S WELLS. 
 
 Lessee— T. LONGDEN GREENWOOD, 21, Vineyard Gardens, Clerkenwell. 
 
 Under the Management of 
 
 Mrs. WAENEIi and Mr. PHELPS, 
 
 Of the Theatres Royal, Drury Lane, Covent Garden, and Haymarket. 
 
 RICHARD III., 
 
 "With the Restoration of the Text of Shakespeare, having been received with 
 complete approbation, will be repeated Three Times a Week until further notice. 
 The Free List, the Public Press excepted, must for the present be suspended. 
 Monday, March Srd, Tuesday 4th, and Wednesday 5th, 1845, 
 
 THE PEIiFORMANCES WILL COMMENCE WITH THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 (With entirely new Scenery, Properties, Dresses, and Decorations) 
 
 RICHARD IIL, 
 
 WITH THE RESTORATION OF THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE. 
 In order to meet the spirit of the present age, so distinguished for illustrating and 
 honouring the works of Shakespeare, and with at least au honest desire of testing his 
 truthful excellence over all attempted improvements, this restoration is essayed, in 
 lieu of the alteration, interpolation, and compilement of Colley Gibber, which has so 
 long held possession of the stage. 
 
 New Scenery by Mr. F. Fenton, assisted by Messes. Finlat, Adams, Moeelli, &c. 
 
 King Edward IV. Mk. Wakd 
 
 Edward, Prince of AVales, afterwards Edward V. \ Sons to Edward f Miss B.\CKors 
 Richard, Duke of York j IV. ... \ Master Newman 
 
 George, Duke of Clarence (Brother to Edward IV.) ... ... Mk. H. Maeston 
 
 Richard, Duke of Glo'ster (Brother to Edward IV., afterwards 
 
 King Richard III.) Me. Phelps 
 
 Cardinal Archbishop of York ... ... ... ... ... ... Me. Beale 
 
 Duke of Buckingham Mr. G. Bennett 
 
 Duke of Norfolk ... Mr. Raymond Earl of Surrey ... Mu. Franks 
 
 Earl Rivers (Brother to the Queen) Mr. Williams 
 
 Marquis of Dorset ) c. l r\ -ci- u j.i ( Mr. Corexo 
 
 Lord Grey j Sons to Queen Elizabeth { Mr. Fenton 
 
 Earl of Richmond (afterwards King Henry VII.) Mr. J. AVebstee 
 
 Bi.shop of Ely ... Mr. Villiers 
 
 Lord Hastings (Lord High Chamberlain) ... ... Mr. Bird 
 
 Sir Richard RatcliSe ) ( Mr. Sharpe 
 
 Sir AVilliam Catesby > Friends to the Duke of Glo'ster ... < M it. Morton 
 
 Lord Lovel J (Mr. Bentley 
 
 Sir James Tyrrell Mr. Graham 
 
 mu T 1 di 1 ( Ijord Steward of King Edward IV. 's ) n,„ . v^x,vr^T, 
 
 Thomas, Lord Stanley < „ u ii ft i v \ c t\ \ t ■■• Me. A. Younoe 
 
 ' •' ( Household, atterwurds Earl of Derby | 
 
 Earl of O.xford N / Mr. Charles 
 
 Sir James Blount (•£;■• i i ii t^ i t i>- i i J ^1"- I^lAst)N 
 
 f T\- li TT I 4. Vrriends to the Earl 01 Richmond ... < At. t.,,,. . 
 Sir U alter Herbert r j JMr. Jamks 
 
 Sir William Brandon j ^,Mr. Dai.tjN 
 
 Lord l^Iayor Mr. Fokman 
 
 Braekcnbury ... Me. Moeelli Scrivener ... Jlit. Sii-.vier 
 
 First Murderer ... Mr. Knk.ht Second Murderer ... Mr. Evain 
 
 Elizabeth ((,>ueeu of Edward IV.) . Mits. H. Makston 
 
 Queen Margaret (Widow of Henry VI.) Mus. Waunee 
 
 Anne I ^^idow of Edward, Prince of Wales, Son to Henry ) ^^ j^^^ Moedaiint 
 
 ( v., afterwards married to the Duke of Glo .ster ) 
 
 Duchess of York (Mother to Edward IV., Clarence, and Richard III.) Mus. Fkancis 
 
 Ladies of the Court ... ... Misses Haut, Graham, Mohelli, and Maktin 
 
 Pages Mlssks Sikvii-u and West 
 
 Sheriffs, Pursuivauis, Citizens, Glio.sts of those murdered by Richard HI., 
 
 Soldiers, Attendants, &c. 
 
 To conclude with the AmuBing Farce of CAPTAIN STEVENS.
 
 264 
 
 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 THEATEE ROYAL, 
 SADLER'S WELLS 
 
 Lessees— Messes. GREENWOOD, PHELPS, and WARNER. 
 
 Under the Management of 
 
 Mrs. WARNER and Mr. PHELPS. 
 
 Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, November 5, 6, 7, 
 
 and 8, 1845, 
 
 THE PEBFOBMANCES WILL COMMENCE WITH SHAKESPEABE'S TKAGEDY OF 
 
 KING LEAR. 
 
 The New Scenery by Messes. F. Fenton, Finlay, and Assistants. The 
 Stage Decorations and Properties by Me. Habvey. The Machinery by • 
 Mb. Cawdeby. The Costumes, &c., by Me. Febnie and Miss Bailey, 
 
 Lear (King of Britain) ... 
 King of France ... Mb. Knight 
 Duke of Cornwall ... Mb. Gbaham 
 Earl of Kent ... Me. A. Younge 
 
 Edgar (Son of Glo'ster) 
 
 Edmund (Bastard Son to Glo'ster) 
 
 Curan ... 
 
 Oswald (Steward to Goneril) ... 
 
 Old Man ... Mb. Williams 
 
 Officer 
 
 Gentleman (Attendant on Cordelia) 
 
 Fool ... Mb. Schabf 
 
 Servant to Cornwall ... 
 
 Goneril '\ 
 
 Regan > Daughters to Lear ... 
 
 Cordelia ) 
 
 Me. Phelps 
 
 Duke of Burgundy ... Mb. Waede 
 
 Duke of Albany ... Me. Mobton 
 
 Earl of Glo'ster ... Mb. H. Mellon 
 
 Me. H. Maeston 
 
 Mb. G. Bennett 
 
 Mb. C. Fenton 
 
 Me. S. Buckingham 
 
 Physician ... Mb. Lingham 
 
 Mb. Robeets 
 
 Me. Fbanks 
 
 Herald ... Mb. Stilt 
 Mb. Geammab 
 
 JMbs. PL Marston 
 Miss Huddabt 
 Miss Coopeb 
 
 To conclude with the Laughable Farce of 
 
 ANIMAL MAGNETISM.
 
 PLAY-BILLS. 265 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, 
 SADLER'S WELLS. 
 
 Lessees— Messrs. GREENWOOD and PHELPS. 
 
 This Theatre, thoroughly Eepaired and Ee-decorated, will he opened 
 for the Season under the Management of 
 
 Mr. PHELPS, 
 
 On Saturday, July 25th, 1846, 
 
 WITH (for the first TIME HERE) THE FIRST PART OF SHAKESPEARE'S 
 
 HENRY IV. 
 
 The Scenery by Mr. F. Fenton. The Costumes by Mr. Coombes and 
 Miss Bailey. The Decorations and Properties by Mr. Harvey." 
 
 King Henry IV. Mr. G. Bennett 
 
 Henry, Prince of Wales ) q + u ir- i ^^k- H. jMarston 
 
 Prince Jolm of Lancaster ] ^°^^ ^^ "'® ^'"^ - \ Mr. G. Maskell 
 
 Earl of Westmoreland ) -c<-^„j^ +^ +1 „ t-- „ i Mr. Montague 
 
 c- -117 li r>i i > Jb riends to the Kmff ... s nr c 
 
 Sir Walter Bluut ) & • • ^ ]\[r_ Stilt 
 
 Thomas Percy, Earl of Worcester ... ... Mr. H. Mellon 
 
 Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland ... ... Mr. Hollingsworth 
 
 Henry Percy, surnamed Hotspur (liis Son) ... Mr. Creswick 
 
 (His first appearance in London) 
 
 Archibald, Earl of Douglas ... ... ... Mr. Morton 
 
 Sir Richard Vurnon ... ... ... ... Mr. Graham 
 
 Sir John FalstafE Mr. Phelps 
 
 Poins ... Mr. Hoskins Gadshill ... Mr. C. Fenton 
 
 Peto ... Mr. Franks Bardolph ... Mr. Knight Francis ... Mr. Scharf 
 
 Chamberlain ... Mr. Wilkins Travellers ... Messrs. Scoley & Mason 
 
 First Carrier ... Mr. A. Younge Second Carrier ... Mr. Williams 
 
 Lady Percy (Wife to Hotspur, and Sister to Mortimer) ... Mrs. Brougham 
 
 Mrs. Quickly (Hostess of a Tavern in Eiist Chepe) ... Mrs. II. I\Iarston 
 
 Lords, Officers, Sheriffs, Vintners, Chamberlains, Drawers, Travellers, 
 
 and Attendants, 
 
 To conclude with the Petite Comedy, by C. Dance, Esq., of 
 
 NAVAL ENGAGEMENTS. 
 
 Stage Manager, Mr. Phklps. Acting Manager, Mr. T. L. Greenwood. 
 
 The Decorations and Properties by Mr. Harvey. 
 Scene Painters, Messrs. F. Fenton and Finlay. Machinist, Mr. Cawdery, 
 
 The Costumes by Mr. Coombes and Miss Bailey. 
 Musical Director, Mr. W. Montgomery,
 
 266 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, 
 
 SADLER'S WELLS. 
 
 Lessees— Messrs. GREENWOOD and PHELPS. 
 
 Under the Management of 
 
 MR. PHELPS. 
 
 Wednesday, Jamuiry \3th, Thursday \ith, Friday 15th, and 
 Saturday \Uh, 1847, 
 
 WILL BE PERFORMED (FOR THE FIRST TIME) BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER'S 
 PLAY (with alterations) OF 
 
 A KING AND NO KING. 
 
 Arbaces (King of Iberia) Mr. Phelps 
 
 Tigraues (King of Armenia) Mr. H. Marston 
 
 Gobrias (Lord'Protector) Mr. H. Mellon 
 
 Baciirius Mr. Hoskins 
 
 Mardonius ] rn n t- • ( Mr. A. YouNGE 
 
 Bessus j Two Captains j Mr. G. Bennett 
 
 Lygones (Father of Spaconia) Mr.Graham 
 
 Gentlemen Messrs. Branson, C. Fenton, and Scoley 
 
 Swordsmen Messrs. Knight and Scharf 
 
 Messenger ... Mr. Franks Servant to Bacurius ... Mr. Fitzgerald 
 
 Boy ... Master Heir Attendants, Guards, &c. 
 
 Arane (the Queen Mother) Mrs. H. Marston 
 
 Panthea (her Daughter) Miss Laura Addison 
 
 Spaconia (Daughter of Lygones) Miss Cooper 
 
 To be followed by an Interlude entitled 
 
 THE SILENT WOMAN. 
 
 Mr. Sandford ... ]\Ir. Williams Mr. Arthur Merton ... Mr. Hoskins 
 Miss Sandf ord Miss Cooper 
 
 To conclude with (for the 16th time) a Grand Comic Christmas 
 Pantomime, entitled 
 
 HARLEQUIN AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR, 
 
 OR, THE WHITE CAT and 
 THE KIXG AND HIS THEEE SONS.
 
 PLAY-BILLS. 267 
 
 THEATRE EOYAL, 
 
 SADLER'S WELLS. 
 
 Lessees— Messrs. GREENWOOD and PHELPS. 
 
 Under the Management of 
 
 Mr. PHELPS. 
 
 ' Wednesday, January 26^7«, Thursday 27th, Friday 28ih, and 
 
 Saturday 29th, 1848, 
 
 WILL BE PERFORMED (FOR THE FIRST TIME AT THIS THEATRE) 
 SHAKESPEARE'S COMEDY OF 
 
 TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Or, WHAT YOU WILL. 
 
 With New Scenery, Dresses, and Decorations. 
 
 Orsini, Duke of Illyria Mr. Henry Marston 
 
 Sebastian (a Young Gentleman, Brother of Viola) Mr. Graham 
 
 Antonio (a Sea Captain, Friend of Sebastian) ... Mr. Harrington 
 
 Valentine ) r' .i ..^ j- ^i t> i ( Mr. Wilkixs 
 
 r, ■ Gentlemen attendmg on the Duke { -,. ^, ,,. 
 
 Cuno ) ° ( Mr. G. Maskkll 
 
 Sir Toby Belch (Uncle of Olivia) Mr. George Bennett 
 
 Sir Andrew Aguecheek Mr. A. Younge 
 
 Malvolio (Steward to Olivia) Mr. Phelps 
 
 Fabian ) „ ,. 4. r\}- ■ ( ^^R- H. Mellon 
 
 r,, > Servants to Olivia K. o„.„„ 
 
 Clown j •••..••• ••• ( Mr. Scharf 
 
 A Priest ... Mr. Knight Roberto (a Sea Captain) ... Mr. C. Fenton 
 
 First Officer ... Mr. Franks Second Officer ... Mr. Jackson 
 
 Gentlemen, Servants, Sailors, &c. 
 
 Olivia (a Rich Countess) Miss Cooper 
 
 Viola (in love with the Duke) Miss Laura Addison 
 
 Maria (Olivia's Woman) Mrs. H. Marston 
 
 Scene — A City in Illyria, with the Sea Coast near it. 
 
 To conclude with (for the 27th, 28th, 29th, and 30th times) a Grand 
 Comic Christmas Pantomime, entitled 
 
 HARLEQUIN AND LITTLE GREAT BRITAIN; 
 
 OR, 
 
 JACK AND THE LEAN-STALK, 
 
 AND THE OGRE'S GOLDEN HEN. '
 
 268 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, SADLER'S WELLS. 
 
 Lessees— Messrs. GREENWOOD and PHELPS. 
 
 This Theatre will be Opened for the Season under the Management of 
 
 Mr. PHELPS, 
 
 On Wednesday, September 27th, Thursday 28tJi, Friday 29th, and 
 
 Saturday 30th, 1848, 
 
 when tvill be presented (for the first time at this theatre) 
 
 Shakespeare's play of 
 
 CORIOLANUS. 
 
 With New Scenery, Dresses, and Decorations. 
 
 The Scenery by Mr. Fenton and Mr. A. Finlay. The Decorations and 
 
 Properties by Mr. Harvey. The Costumes by Mr. Coombes and 
 
 Miss Bailey. 
 
 Caius Marcius Coriolanus (a Noble Roman) ... ... Mr. Phelps 
 
 Titus Lartius ) ^ , • j. xi -tr i • $ Mr. Knight 
 
 n ■ ■ ? G-enerals agamst the V oiscians { ,r„ n u , ^ ,., 
 
 Commiiis ) ° ( Mr. G. Bennett 
 
 Menenius Agrippa (Friend to Coriolanus) Mr. A. Younge 
 
 Sicinius Veliitus ) m -i i: ^.i td i i Mr. H. Mellon 
 
 T • xi ■ V Tribunes of the People ... . < m ri .„. 
 Junius Brutus ) ^ ( Mr. Graham 
 
 Young Marcius (Son to Coriolanus) ... ... Master Webster 
 
 Tullus Aufidius (General of the Volscians) Mr. H. Marston • 
 
 Volusius (Lieutenant to Aufidius) Mr. Harrington 
 
 Proculus and Quintius (Senators) ... Mr. Stilt and Mr. Pearce 
 
 Servius ) i Mr. Brown 
 
 Cotus > Servants to Aufidius ... ... ... < Mr. Edwards 
 
 Nautius ) (Mr. Robinson 
 
 RutiHus (a Citizen of Antium) Mr. Charles 
 
 Flavins K^ -: t, i Mr. C. Fenton 
 
 A . > Messengers 01 Rome ... ... ... < ,, ^ .^0,..^^,., 
 
 Appius 5 *= ( Mr. Gladstone 
 
 First Citizen ... Mr. ScHARF Second Citizen ... Mr. Williams 
 
 Third Citizen ... Mr. Wilkins Fourth Citizen ... Mr. Franks 
 
 Fifth Citizen ... Mr. Harris Sixth Citizen ... Mr. Dolman 
 
 Roman and Volscian Senators, Patricians, iEdiles, Lictors, Citizens, 
 Messengers, Attendants, and Soldiers. 
 Volumnia (Mother to Coriolanus) ... ... ... Miss Glyn 
 
 Virgilia (Wife to Coriolanus) ... ... ... Miss Cooper 
 
 Valeria (Friend to Virgilia) Mrs. H. Marston 
 
 Servilia (Virgilia's Gentlewoman) ... ... ... Miss Morelli 
 
 Scene — Partly in Rome, and partly in the Territories of the Volscians 
 
 and Antiates. 
 
 To conclude with Dance's admired Comedietta of 
 
 A MATCH IN THE DARK. 
 
 Mr. Clement ... Mr. Williams Captain Courteney ... Mr. Hoskins 
 
 Vellum (a Clerk) ... Mr. Scharf O'Flynn ... Mr. H. Mellon 
 
 Miss Ellen Marsden Miss Cooper 
 
 Mrs. Prudence Mclntyre Mrs. H. Marston
 
 PLAY-BILLS. 
 
 269 
 
 THEATRE EOYAL, 
 SADLER'S WELLS. 
 
 Lessees— Messrs. GREENWOOD and PHELPS. 
 
 Under the Management of Mr. PHELPS. 
 
 Monday, November 21th, Tuesday 28th, Wednesday 29th, 1848, 
 
 WILL BE PRODUCED A TRAGEDY, IN THREE ACTS, BY ROBERT BROWNING, ESQ., 
 
 ENTITLED 
 
 A BLOT IN THE 'SCUTCHEON. 
 
 With New Scenery, Dresses, and Decorations. 
 
 The Scenery by Mr. F. Fenton and Mr. Brunning. The Decorations and 
 Properties by Mr. Harvey. The Costumes by Mr. Coombes and 
 
 Miss Bailey. 
 
 Thorold, Lord Tresham 
 
 Austin Tresham 
 
 Henry, Earl Mertoun ... 
 
 Gerard 
 
 Ralph 
 
 Frank 
 
 Richard 
 
 Walter 
 
 Pliilip 1 
 
 Peter J 
 
 Mildred Tresliam .. 
 
 Guendolin Tresham 
 
 > Retainers of Lord Tresham 
 
 Mr. Phelps 
 
 Mr. Hoskins 
 
 Mr. G. K. Dickinson 
 
 Mr. Graham 
 
 Mr. Harrington 
 
 Mr. C. Fenton 
 
 Mr. Knight 
 ' j\Ir. Stilt 
 
 Mr. Franks 
 , Mr. Wilkins 
 
 Miss Cooper 
 . Miss Huddart 
 
 Previous to the Farce the Band will perform 
 Quadrille ... ... " The Bondman " 
 
 Coote 
 
 After which an Interlude, entitled 
 
 THE LONDON LADY. 
 
 To conclude witli Poule's Farce of 
 
 THE SCAPEGOAT.
 
 270 
 
 LIFE-WOEK OF PHELPS. 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, SADLER'S WELLS. 
 
 Lessees— Messrs. GREENWOOD and PHELPS. 
 
 Under the Management of Mr. PHELPS. 
 
 Monday, Oct. 22nd, Tuesday 2Zrd, Wednesday 24i/i, Thursday 2Dth, 1849, 
 
 WILL BE PRESENTED (FIRST TIME AT THIS THEATRE) THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA, 
 
 FROM THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 With New Scenery, Dresses, and Decorations. 
 The Scenery by Mr. F. Fenton. 
 
 Marc Antony 
 
 Octavius Civsar 
 
 M. Emilias Lepidus 
 
 Sextus Pompeius ... 
 
 Domitius Enobarbus 
 
 Ventidius ") 
 
 Eros I 
 
 Scarus 
 
 Dercetas 
 
 Demetrius 
 
 Philo 
 
 Mecrenas 
 
 Agrippa 
 
 Dolabella 
 
 Proculeiiis 
 
 Thyreus 
 
 GaUus 
 
 Men as 
 
 Menecrates 
 
 Triumvirs of Piome ... 
 
 > Friends to Antony 
 
 i 
 
 ■■ Friends to Cfesar 
 
 -! 
 
 Friends to Pompey 
 
 iMR. Phelps 
 Mr. G. K. Dickinson 
 Mr. Hoskins 
 Mr. Henry Marston 
 Mr. G. Bennett 
 ' Mr. Scoley 
 Mr. Graham 
 Mr. Frost 
 Mr. Smythson 
 Mr. Thomas 
 Mr. Marchant 
 Hamilton 
 H. Mellon 
 Rivers 
 Wilkins 
 H. Lee 
 Dolman 
 ( Mr. Knight 
 I Mr. W. Pitt 
 ( Mr. Franks 
 Mr. Harris 
 
 f Mr 
 I Mr, 
 
 Mr. 
 Mr. 
 Mr. 
 Mr. 
 
 Varrius 
 
 Canidius (Lieutenant-General to Antony) 
 
 Euphronius (an Ambassador from Antony to Csesar) Mr. Kendall 
 
 Mardian "1 ( Mr. Belford 
 
 Alexas > Attendants on Cleopatra ... ... < Mrs. Graham 
 
 Diomedes ) ( Mr. C. Fenton 
 
 A Soothsayer ... Mr. Williams A Clown ... Mr. Henry 
 
 Officers, Sentinels, Messengers, Eunuchs, Guards, Dancers, «S;c. 
 
 Cleopatra (Queen of Egypt) Miss Glyn 
 
 Octavia (Sister to Ca3sar, and Wife to Antony) ... Miss Aldridge 
 
 Charmian ) *** i j. m *. ( Miss T. Bassano 
 
 T > Attendants on Cleopatra .., { ■., ^ o 
 
 Iras ] '■ I Mrs. G. Smith 
 
 Scene — Dispersed in several parts of the Roman Empire. 
 
 Nye 
 
 To conclude with (for the Third Time) a Farce, by W. Moncrieff, entitled 
 
 THE MISTRESS OF THE MILL.
 
 PLAY-BILLS. 
 
 271 
 
 THEATRE ROYAL, 
 
 SADLER'S WELLS. 
 
 Lessees— Messrs. GREENWOOD and PHELPS. 
 
 Under the Management of ]\Ir. PHELPS. 
 
 FOR THE BENEFIT OF Mr. PHELPS, 
 
 071 Wednesday, March 20th, 1850, 
 
 WILL BE PRESENTED (FIRST TIME THESE THREE YEARS) SHAKESPEARE'S 
 
 TRAGEDY OF 
 
 MACBETH, 
 
 FROM THE ORIGINAL TEXT. 
 
 1 
 
 )■ Noblemen of Scotland 
 
 Duncan (King of Scotland) 
 
 ]Malcolm ) ^ j. xi it-- 
 
 T~, 11 • > Sons to the Kmg 
 Donalbam ) ° 
 
 t, [ Generals of the King's Army 
 
 Banqiio ) ° -^ 
 
 Lennox 
 
 Macduff 
 
 Rosse 
 
 Menteith 
 
 Angus ] 
 
 Caithness J 
 
 Fleance (Son to Banquo) 
 
 Riward (General of the English Forces) 
 
 Physician ... Mr. Williams 
 
 • Son to Macduff 
 
 Third Murderer 
 Attendant ... Mr. Franks 
 Lady Macbeth 
 Lady Macduff 
 
 Mr. H. Mellon 
 Mr. G. K. Dickinson 
 Miss Johnson 
 Mr. Phelfs 
 Mr. G. Bennett 
 f Mr. Belford 
 I Mr. H. Marston 
 J Mr. Graham 
 1 Mr. Harris 
 I Mr. Philips 
 t Mr. Edwards 
 
 Master Righton 
 
 1\Ir. Edmonds 
 Young Siward ... ]\Ir. C. Fenton 
 
 Miss Bullen 
 
 Seyton (an Officer attending on Macduff) ... Mr. Knight 
 
 First Murderer ... Mr. Howe Second Murderer ... ]\Ir. Dolman 
 
 Mr. Charlcot Messenger ... Mr. Thomas 
 
 Porter ... Mr. H. Nye 
 Miss Glyn 
 ... Miss Edwardes 
 Gentlewoman (Attending on Lady Macbeth) ... Mrs. G. Smith 
 
 Hecate ... Mr. Rivers 
 
 Three Witches Messrs. A. Youi^ge, Wilkins. aiid Hoskins 
 
 To conclude with Kenny's Farce of 
 
 RAISING THE WIND. 
 
 Mr. Plainway ... 
 
 Fainwould ... 
 
 Jeremy Diddler ... (for this night only) 
 
 Sam ... Mr. Hoskins 
 
 John ... Mr. Dolman 
 
 I'eggy 
 
 Miss Durable ... 
 
 ... Mr. Williams 
 Mr. Hknry Nye 
 Mr. Pueli's 
 Richard ... Mr. Franks 
 Waiter ... Mr. Wilkins 
 
 Miss T. Bassano 
 ... Mrs. BuouGiiAM
 
 272 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, SADLEE'S WELLS. 
 
 Lessees— Messrs. GREENWOOD and PHELPS. 
 
 Under the Management of Mr. PHELPS. 
 
 PFednesday, Nov. 20th, Thursday 21st, Friday 22nd, Saturday 23rd, 1850, 
 
 WILL BE PRODUCED A TRAGEDY, IN FIVE ACTS, BY 
 JOHN WEBSTER (1612), ENTITLED 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF MALFL 
 
 Re-constructed for Stage Representation by R. H. Horne. 
 With New Scenery, Drcbses, and Decorations. 
 
 " The Duchess of Malfi is distinguished by the same kind of beauties as 
 the Author's Vittoria Corombona, and chid in the same terrors. Tliis is 
 not tlie bandying of idle words and rlietorical common-places, but the 
 writhing and conflict, and the subhme colloquy of man's nature with 
 itselfr—HazHtt. 
 
 " He (John Webster) had no pretensions to the inexhaustible wit of 
 Shakespeare, but he had the power of approaching the terrible energy of 
 his passion, and the profoundness of his pathos, in characters which he 
 took out of the great muster-roll of humanity, and placed in fearful 
 situations." — GJiarles Knight. 
 
 " To move a horror skilfully- — to touch a soul to the quick — to lay upon 
 fear as much as it can bear — to wean and weary a life till it is ready to 
 drop, and then step in with mortal instruments to take its last forfeit — this, 
 only a Webster can do." — Charles Lamb. 
 
 PREVIOUS TO THE PLAY, 
 
 A Prologue, written by R. H. Horne, will be spoken by Mr. Hoskins. i 
 
 Ferdinand (Duke of Calabria and Lord of Tarragona) Mr. Phelps 
 
 Cardinal Gragiani (his Brother) Mr. Graham 
 
 Malateste (Prince of Albano) Mr. H. Mellon 
 
 Antonio Bologna (Steward to the Duchess) ... Mr. Waller 
 
 Delio (a Friend to Antonio) Mr. C. Wheatleiqh 
 
 Bosola (a Man of desperate Fortunes) Mr. G. Bennett 
 
 Silvio (a Nobleman of Rome) Mr. C. Fenton 
 
 Castruccio (an old Lord) ) Courtiers attached to the ( Mr. Wilkins 
 Grisolan j Household of the Duchess ) Mr. C. Stilt 
 
 Physician to the Court Mr. Knight 
 
 Servant to the Duchess ... Mr. Franks Executioner ... Mr. Meagreson 
 
 Lords, Pages. Ladies, Servants, Executioners, Soldiers, &c., &c. 
 Marina (Duchess of Malfi, Sister of the Duke and the Cardinal) Miss Glyn 
 Giuseppa (a Lady of the Court, Wife of Castruccio) ... Mrs. Archbold 
 Cariola (Contidential Lady Attendant on the Duchess) ... Miss Graham 
 The Two Children of the Duchess Master and Miss Harvey 
 
 N.B. — A Lapse of Two Years between the First and Second Acts. 
 To conclude with an Original Drama, by John Daly, in Two Acts, entitled 
 
 BEOKEN TOYS.
 
 PLAY-BILLS. 273 
 
 THEATRE EOYAL, 
 
 SADLER'S WELLS. 
 
 Lessees— Messrs. GREENWOOD and PHELPS. 
 
 Uuder the :\rima<rement of Mr. PHELPS. 
 
 Moudaij, Septemher loth, Tuesday IQtJi, Wednesday I7th, and 
 
 Thursday l8fJi, 1851, 
 
 TIMON OF ATHENS. 
 
 Witli New Scenery, Dresses, and Decorations. 
 
 The Scenery by Mr. F. Fenton. The Costumes by Ur. Coombes and 
 
 Miss Bailey. The Properties by Mr. Harvey. 
 
 Tinion (a Noble Athenian) Mr. Phelps 
 
 [,iicius ) ( Mr. F. Robinson 
 
 Luciilkis V Lords and FL'itterers of Timon ... < Mr. Hoskins 
 Senipn mills ) ( Mr. H. Mellon 
 
 Ventidins (one of Timon's False Friends) .. ... Mr. Knight 
 
 Apemantns (a Churhsh Philosopher) Mr. G. Bennett 
 
 Flavins (Steward to Tinion) Mr. Graham 
 
 Alcibiades (an Athenian General) ... ... Mu. H. Marston 
 
 Flaniinius ) ( ^IR- C. Wheatleigh 
 
 Lncilius V Timon's Servants ^ Mr. WiLKiNS 
 
 fiervilius ) ( Mr. C. Fenton 
 
 An Old Athenian ... Mr. Williams Senator of Athens ... Mr. Barrett 
 Jeweller ... :Mr. Harris A Merchant ... Mr. Makdyn 
 
 Poet ... Mr. J. W. Bay Painter ... Mr. F. Younge 
 
 Taphis 
 Piiilotus 
 
 r Mr. G. Bassil 
 
 I Mr. Edwards 
 
 i'itns i> Servants to Timon's Creditors ... -{ Mr. Franks 
 
 Lucius I I Mr. JMkagreson 
 
 llortensins J L Mr. C. Mortimer 
 
 Servant to Varro ... Miss Rose Servant to Isidore ... Mr. Josephs 
 
 Cupid Miss E. BuLLEN 
 
 Maskers, Lords, Strangers, Senators, Pages, Thieves, Soldiers, 
 
 Amazons, &c. 
 
 Phrvnia K,. , . ai-i- i„ ^ Mrs. Graham 
 
 ,,,■ - , Mistresses to Alcibiades < ^r t,imi?« 
 
 luiiandra J ( MlbS JONES 
 
 Scene — Athens and the Adjoining Wdods. 
 
 To conclmlc witli Didthn's ^Musical Farce of 
 
 THE WATERMAN.
 
 274 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, 
 
 SADLER'S WELLS 
 
 Lessees— Messrs. GREENWOOD and PHELPS. 
 
 Under the Management of Mr. PHELPS. 
 
 TJiis Evening, Tliursdaji, November lltli, 1851, 
 
 WILL BE PRODUCED (FIRST TIME AT THIS THEA'I'RE) MACKLIN's 
 
 COMEDY OF 
 
 THE MAN OF THE WORLD. 
 
 Lorfl Lumbercourt ... Mr. Barrett Egerton ... Mr. F. Robinson 
 
 Sir Pertinax Macsycopliant ... (First Time) ... Mr. Phelps 
 Sidney ... Mr. Graham Counsellor Plausible ... Mr. Wilkins 
 
 Melville ... Mr. H. Mellon Sergeant Eitherside ... Mr. Williams 
 
 Sam ... Mr. Meagreson Tomkins ... Mr. C. Mortimer 
 
 John Mr. C. Fenton 
 
 Lady Rodolpha Lumbercourt Miss Fitzpatrick 
 
 Lady Macsycophant Mrs. H. Marston 
 
 Constantia ... Miss Lucy Rafter Nanny ... Mrs. Graham 
 Betty Hint Miss Eliza Travers 
 
 Polka ' ' The ]\Iay " H. S. May . 
 
 Published by Jewell and Letchford, 17, Soho Square. 
 
 To conclude with (for the First Time under the present Management) 
 
 Planchi^'s Drama of 
 
 THE JEWESS. 
 
 The Emperor Sigismund Mr. Kntght 
 
 Prince I^eopold Mr. F. Robinson 
 
 Cardinal de Brogny (President of the Council) ... Mr. G. Bennett 
 
 The Bishop of Constance Mr. Williamson 
 
 Albert ... Mr. Harris Provost of Constance ... Mr. Wilkins 
 
 Eleazar Mr. Henry Marston 
 
 Page to the Princess Miss Lucy Rafter 
 
 Prelates, Knights, Heralds, Pages, Attendants. Guards, &c. 
 
 The Princess Eudocia Miss Eliza Travers 
 
 Rachel (the Jewess) Miss Goddard 
 
 This Evening the Performances will be for the Benefit of 
 Mr. T. L. Greenwood, Acting Manager.
 
 PLAY-BILLS. 27o 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, SADLEE'S WELLS. 
 
 Lessees— Messrs. GREENWOOD and niELPS. 
 
 Under the Management of Mr. PHELPS. 
 
 Monday, January lOtJi, 1853, and During the Week, 
 
 WILL BE PRESENTED THE HISTORICAL PLAY OF 
 
 KING HENRY V., 
 
 FROM THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 The Overture and Incidental Music composed and selected by Mu. W. H. 
 
 Montgomery. New Scenery by Mr. F. Fenton. Decorations by 
 
 Mr. Harvey. The Costumes by Mr. Coombes and Miss Bailey. 
 
 The Machinery by Mr. Cawdery and Assistants. 
 
 riiorus (in the character of "Time ") ... ... Mr. H. IMarston 
 
 King Henry V Mr. Phelps 
 
 Humphrey, Duke of Glo'ster ) gj-Qthers to the Kin- \ ^^'^^ Mandlebert 
 John, Duive of Bedford \ ^^°^^'^^^ ^^ ^^^*^ ^^i"= ] Mr. IMorton 
 
 Thomas Beaufort, Duke of Exeter (Uncle to the King) ... Mr. H. Mellon 
 
 Duke of York (Cousin to tlie King) Mr. Edwards 
 
 Chicheley, Archbislioi^ of Canterbury Mr. Wilkins 
 
 Earl of Salisbury ... Mr. Wallis Earl of Westmoreland ... Mr. Belford 
 Earl of Warwick ... Mr. Butler Earl of Huntingdon ... ]\Ir. Josephs 
 Earl of Suffolk Mr. Luce 
 
 P^arl of Cambridge ) n • , • + +i „ it- ( ^Mr. IMeacreson 
 
 CI- m\ r^ '/ Conspirators against the Kmg < -., -^, ,r ^ 
 
 Sir Thomas Grey ) '^ I -^L'- C. Mortimer 
 
 Lord Willoughby ..; Mr. Jones Lord Fanhope ... Mr. Sharpe 
 
 Nobles ... Messrs. Morris, Frost, Lyons, Hands, Lloyd, Wilson, Pierce. 
 
 Dawson, Stephens, and Green 
 
 Heralds Messrs. Henry-, Emery, Gough, and Lewis 
 
 Sir Thomas Erpingham "j ( Mr. Lacy 
 
 Captain Fiuellen > Officers in the King's Army < Mr. Lewis Ball 
 
 Captain Gower ) ' (Mr. Willls 
 
 Williams (a Soldier in the same) Mr. Barrett 
 
 Nvm "i /! 10 ,. 4. 1? ^ I xe i Mu. ('. Fenton 
 
 Bardolph ^«""^^'y Servants Falstaff, now ^j^. Williams 
 
 Pistol ) ^'^^^'"'■'^ '" ^^'"^ •^""'' I Mu. G. Bennett 
 
 Boy (Servant to tliem) ]\Iiss E. Travehs 
 
 Hostess Quickly (Pistol's Wife) Mrs. H. Marston 
 
 Charles VI., King of France Mr. G. Bassil 
 
 Lewis, the Daupliin M\i. F. lioiuNSON 
 
 Duke of Burgundy Mr. Cllvton 
 
 Cliarles d'Albret (Iligli Constable) Mr. T. C. Harris 
 
 Lord Bouciijualt ... I\Ir. Clark Count Grandpr^ ... Mr. Haswell 
 
 Governor of Ilarfleur ... Mr. Franks Archbishop of Bourges ... Mr. Dale 
 
 Nobles Messrs. Dubois, Clarke, Bird, Davis, Jones, I^urnet'i, 
 
 Morgan, Luce, &c. 
 
 Heralds Messrs. Mortimer, Morgan, Simonds, Johnson, &c. 
 
 Isabel, Qii';on of Franco Mrs. Baiikett 
 
 Kathariiic (Daughter of Cliarles aid Isabel) ... Miss ']'. lUssANO 
 
 Ladies (attendant on tlie Queen and Princess) Mesdames S. Wakde, Uose, 
 Lambe, Pevknsey, Dixon, F. Younge, Bailey, I^eed, Matthews, &c. 
 
 The Scene at the beginning of fiie Play is in England, but afterwards 
 
 wholly in France. 
 
 T 2
 
 27n 
 
 LIFE-WOEK OF PHELPS. 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, 
 
 SADLER'S WELLS 
 
 Lessees— Messrs. GREENWOOD and PHELPS. 
 
 Under the Management of Mr. PHELPS. 
 
 Last night of performing before Easter. 
 
 EOE THE BENEFIT OF ME. PHELPS, 
 
 On Tliursday, March 17 fJi, 1853, 
 
 WILL BE PRODUCED (FOR THE FIRST TIME AT THIS THEATRE) THE SECOND 
 PART OF ^HAKESPEARE'S PLAY OF 
 
 HENRY IV'. 
 
 Henry TV. Mr. Phelps 
 
 (Selected by Her Majest}' for liis Performance at Windsor Castle) 
 
 ^Ir. Phelps 
 ]\Ir. F. Robinson 
 j\Ir. Clinton 
 Miss Maxdlebert 
 Miss F. Yodnqe 
 Mr. H. Mellon 
 jMr. Robins 
 Mr. T. C. Harris 
 Mr. G. Bassil 
 ]Mr. C. Fenton 
 Barrett 
 . Mr. Wilkins 
 . Mr. Franks 
 ... Mr. Lacy 
 Mr. Belfobd 
 ... Mr. Gould 
 . PL Marston 
 
 Justice Sliallow ... (on this occasion) also by 
 
 Henry, Prince of Wales, afterwards Henry V. 
 
 Prince John of Lancaster ... 
 
 Prince Humphrey 
 
 Duke of Clarence 
 
 Archbisliop of York 
 
 Lord Chief Justice ... 
 
 E arl of Westm oreland ... 
 
 Lord ]\Iowbray 
 
 Lord Hastings 
 
 Sir John FalstnfE 
 
 Bardolph ... Mr. Williams 
 
 Davy ... Mr. Lewis Ball 
 
 Wart ... Mr. Meagreson 
 
 Shadow ... Mr. Bateman 
 
 Page to Falstaff ... Miss K. Mandlebert 
 
 IMrs. Quickly 
 
 Doll Tearsheet ... 
 
 Mr. C. Mortimer 
 
 Justice Silence ... 
 
 Mr. 
 
 Pistol .. 
 
 Mouldy .. 
 
 Feeble 
 
 Poins 
 
 Gower 
 
 ... Mrs 
 
 Mrs. Dixon 
 
 To conclude with Kenny's Farce of 
 
 RAISING THE WIND 
 
 Mr. Plainway ... Mr. Williams 
 
 Sam 
 
 Jeremy Diddler ... (for this night only) ... 
 
 Richard ... Mr. Franks John 
 
 Waiter 
 
 Peggy Plainway 
 
 Laurelia Durable 
 
 Mr. Fainwould ... Mr. C. Fenton 
 
 Mr. Lewis Ball 
 
 Mr. Phelps 
 ,. Mr. Meagreson 
 Mr. C. Moriimer 
 Miss Bassano 
 Mrs. H. Marston
 
 PLAY-BILLS. 
 
 277 
 
 THEATRE ROYAL, 
 
 SADLEE'S WELLS 
 
 Lessees— Mkssrs. GREENWOOD and PHELPS. 
 
 Uneler the jManag-ement of Mr. PHELPS. 
 
 FOR THE BENEFIT OF MR. PHELPS, 
 
 0)1 Wednesday, March Wtli, 1855, 
 
 WILL BE PRESENTED SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORICAL I'LAY OF 
 
 HENEY VIIL 
 
 King Henry VIIL 
 Cardinal Wolsey 
 Buckingham 
 Cromwell 
 Lord Sands 
 
 Mr. Barrett 
 Mr. Phelps 
 Mr. IIoskins 
 Mr. F. Kobinson 
 Mr. Lewis Ball 
 
 Earl of Surrey ... Mr. Perfitt Duke of Norfolk ... Mr. T. C. Harris 
 Duke of SufEolk ... Mr, Belford Cardinal Campeius ... Mr. J. W. iiw 
 
 Sir Henry Guildford Mr. C. Fenton 
 
 Mr. Josephs Sir William Lovell ... Mr. Lacy 
 
 Surveyor ... Mr. Lunt 
 
 Clerk ... Mr. Franks 
 
 ... Miss Atkinson 
 
 Mrs. H. Marston 
 ... Miss Cooper 
 
 Monfgomery. 
 
 Lord Chamberlain 
 
 Sir William Brandon ... Mr. C. Mortimer 
 
 Gardiner ... Mr. Mea(U{ESon 
 
 Queen Katharine ... 
 
 Lady Denny 
 
 Anne Bullen 
 
 Polka 
 
 " Bo-Peep " 
 
 To conclude witli the Musical Play of 
 
 ROB ROY. 
 
 Piol) Roy Macgregor Campbell 
 
 Bailie Nicol Jarvie ... (for \\\\h ni.L'ht only) 
 
 Helen Macgregor 
 
 i\Iu. IlnSKINS 
 l\Ii;. I'llKLPS 
 
 Mi.s^ Atkinson
 
 278 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, 
 
 SADLER'S WELLS 
 
 Lessees— Messrs. GREENWOOD axd PHELPS. 
 
 Under the Management of Mr. PHELPS. 
 
 This Bill is Copyright, and Entered at Stationers' Hall. 
 
 Monday, November 20th, 1854, and During the Week, 
 
 WILL BE PRESENTED SHAKESPEAEE's PLAY OF 
 
 PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE. 
 
 Adapted and Arranged for Representation by Mr. Phelps. 
 
 The Scenery by Mr. F. Fenton. The Costumes bylMLss Bailey. The 
 
 Properties by Mr. Harvey. The Music composed by Mr. W. H. 
 
 Montgomery. The Dances arranged by Mr. F. Frampton. 
 
 Act L— the PALACE OF ANTIOCHUS. 
 
 Autiochus (King of Antioch) ... Me. T. C. Hareis Thaliard ... Mr. Belfori) 
 
 Pericles (Prince of Tyre) Me. Phelps 
 
 The Daughter of Autiochus Miss Parkee 
 
 Attendants on the Princess ... Misses Wilkins, Stephens, Nathan, Warde, 
 
 Lambe, Macaetht 
 
 TYPE— IXTERIOR OF THE PALACE. 
 
 Helicanus and Escaues (Two Lords of Tyre) ... Mr. Barrett and Mr. Parslo 
 Frst Lord ... Mr. Evans Second Loni ... Me. Lacy Third Lord ... Mr. Mason 
 Other Attendant Lords ... Messrs. Frost, Masters, Scoley, Bland, Hodges. 
 
 Jackson 
 THARSUS. 
 
 Cleon (Governor of Tharsus) Mr. H. Marston 
 
 Dionyza (\\'ife to Cleon) ... ... ... ... ... ... Miss Atkinson 
 
 Citizens of Tharsus Messes. Johnson, Naysmith, Dudley, Wilson, 
 
 Williams, Thomas 
 
 Act IL— PENTAPOLIS— THE SEA-SHORE. 
 
 First Fisherman ... Me. Josephs Second Fisherman ... Mr. L. Ball 
 
 Third Fisherman ... ... ... ... ... ... ... Mr. Charles 
 
 CORRIDOR IN THE PALACE OF SIMONIDES. 
 
 Simonides (King of Pentapolis) ... ... ... Mr. Ltjnt 
 
 First Lord ... Mr. Franks First Knight ... Mr. Thompson 
 
 Thaisa (Daughter to Simoaides) ... ... ... ... ... Miss Cooper 
 
 A HALL OF STATE. 
 
 Grecian Knights ... Misses Lacy', Turnoue, Gosling, Wiltshire, Aesottt, Small, 
 
 AnGELiQUE, E. Westbrooke, P. ATkstbrooke, Allen, M. Allen, Fenton 
 
 Ladies of the Court of Pentapohs ... Misses Wendon, Marsh, Harrison, Gough, 
 
 Ennis, Francis, Farley, Ford, Fletcher, M'Ewin, Robins.in, 
 
 Beaithwaite, Vernon
 
 PLAY-BILLS. 279 
 
 Act IIL— a SHIP AT SEA. 
 
 First Sailor ... Mr. Stanley Second Sailor ... Mr. 'We'stox 
 
 Lychorida ... ... ... ... ... ... Mes. H. Makstun 
 
 EPHESUS— A EOOM IN CEEIMOX'S HOUSE. 
 
 Cerimon ... Mr. J. "W. Ray Philemou ... I\Ir. C. Moetixiek 
 
 First Gentlemaa of Ephesus Mu. Perfitt 
 
 Second Gentleman of Ephesus ... ... ... ... ... Me. White 
 
 An Interval of fifteen years is supposed to occur between Acts III. and IV. 
 
 Act IY.— THARSUS— an OPEN PLACE NEAR THE SEA-SHORE. 
 
 Leonine ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... Me. Meageeson 
 
 J-irstlirate Mr. Eobsun Second Pirate Me. AVillis Third Pirate Mr. Gibson 
 Marina (^Daughter tj Pericles and Thaisa) ... ... ... Miss E. Herald 
 
 MITYLENE. 
 
 Koult Mr. Hoskins 
 
 Lysiniachus (Governor of Mitylene) ... ... ... ... Mr. F. Kobinson 
 
 An Old "Woman of Mitylene ... ... ... ... ... ... Me. C. Fenton 
 
 Act Y.— on BOARD PERICLES' SHIP, OFF MITYLENE. 
 
 Diana (in a Yi.sion) Miss T. Bas.sano 
 
 First Tyrian Sailor ... Mr. Morlet Second Tyrian Sailor ... Mr. Smtthson 
 
 D'toramic View of the Passage from Miti/lcne to Ephesus. 
 
 THE TEMPLE OF DIANA AT EPHESUS. 
 
 Priestesses of Diana ... Misses Bertram, Ward, Rose, Tomeinson, Smtthers, 
 
 Copping, Gilbert, (ho-wer, Watson, Gordon, Jessap 
 Inhabitants of Ephesus ... Messrs. Gree^, Willidgf, Hands, lircK, Gibbon, 
 
 Crennan, Hardweli , Evain, Harding, Jackson 
 
 ScHOTTisciiK ... ... " The Lamplighter " ... ... Jloalijomery. 
 
 Published by D'Ai-maine and Co., 20, Soho Square. 
 
 To conclude with the favourite After-Piece entitled 
 
 THE CONQUERING GAME.
 
 280 LIFE-WOEK OF PHELPS. 
 
 THEATRE EOYAL, 
 
 DRURY LANE. 
 
 Lessee and Manager— Mr. JAMES ANDERSON. 
 
 The Performance will commence at 7 jjrecisely. Doors open at 6.30. 
 
 Mr. MACREADY'S BENEFIT, 
 
 On which occasion he will perform for the Last Time, 
 
 (in Shakespeare's tragedy of macdeth) and take his 
 
 FAEEWELL OF THE STAGE. 
 
 This Evening, Wednesday, February 26th, 1851, 
 
 WILL BE ACTED SHAKESPEARE'S TRAGEDY OF 
 
 MACBETH. 
 
 Duncan, King of Scotland Mr. J. W. Eay 
 
 Malcohn ) , ■ q ( Mr. H. T. Craven. 
 
 Donalbain j '"^ ^''"^ | Miss White 
 
 Macbeth ) ^ i • +i t-- ' a , ( Mr. Macready 
 
 Banquo | ^^^^'^^^ "^ the King s Army j ^^^ jj^^^^ 
 
 Macduff ] j Mr. Phelps 
 
 Lenox > Noblemen of Scotland < Mr. Braid 
 
 Rosse ) (Mr. Cathcart 
 
 Fleance (Son to Banquo) ' , Master Salmon 
 
 Siward, Earl of Northumberland Mr. M. M. Simpson 
 
 Seyton (an Officer) ... Mr. H. Butler Doctor ... Mr. BissoN 
 
 Officers Messrs. A. Brindal, Coe, Harris, Henry, and Simpson 
 
 Lady Macbeth Mrs. Warner 
 
 Gentlewoman ... ... ... ... ... Mrs. Barrett 
 
 The Three Witches Messrs. Emery, J. Bland, and Barrett 
 
 Hecate Miss P. Horton 
 
 Mr. Macready^ embraces this opportunitj' of tendering his thanks to 
 
 Mr. PHELPS and Mrs. WARNER 
 
 For the offer of their valuable services. 
 
 The Evening's Entertainments will conclude with the Operetta, in 
 
 One Act, entitled 
 
 THE CADI'S DAUGHTER.
 
 PLAY-BILLS. 281 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, SADLEE'S WELLS. 
 
 Lessees— Messes. GREENWOOD and PHELPS. 
 
 Under the Mauagement of Me. PHELPS. 
 
 EOE THE BENEFIT OF Mr. PHELPS, 
 On Thursday, February 27th, 1851, 
 
 MILL BE PEES^EXTED SHAKESPEAEE'S TEAGEDY OF 
 
 KING JOHN. 
 
 King John Me. Phelps 
 
 Prince Heurj-, his Sou (afterwards King Henry III.) ... Master Eightcx 
 
 Arthur, Duke of ( Son of Geoffrey, late Duke of Bretaene, ) ■,, nr 
 
 Bretagne \ the ehler Brother of King John } ^^^^ Mandlebekt 
 
 Geoffrey Fitz-Peter, Earl of Essex (Chief Justiciary of England) ... Me. C. Stilt 
 
 William Mareshall, Earl ot Pembroke Mr. C. Fexton 
 
 Robert Bigot, Earl of Xorfolk Mr. Mard\n 
 
 William Lougsvvord, Earl of Salisbury ... ... ... Me. Graham 
 
 Hubert de Burgh (Chamberlain to the King) ... ... Me. George Bennett 
 
 William Plautageuet, Earl of Warreuue ... ... ... Me. Feost 
 
 William, Earl of Arnndel Mr. Ed-^ards 
 
 Eobert, Baron Fitz-Walter ... Mr. LA'mtENCE Vere, Earl of Oxford ... Mr. Luce 
 
 Eobert de Eos.s ... Me. Marchant Eichard de Percy ... Mr. Smythson 
 
 Gilbert de Clare ... Mr. Thomas Sheriff of Northampton ... Me. Scoley 
 
 Knights ... Mil. Henbies, &c. English Herald ... Me. Wilkins 
 
 Eobert Faulconbridge (Sou of Sir Eobert Faulcoubridge) ... Me. Williams 
 
 T,! •!• ■r' 1 1. • 1 J his half-brother, bastard Sou to ) nr xt m _ 
 
 Philip Faulconbridge j K' o- E' 1 1 1 i Henry Marston 
 
 James Gumey (Servant to Lady Faulconbridge) Me. Feanks 
 
 Peter of Pomfret (a Prophet) Me. Edwards 
 
 Philip Augustus, King of France ... ... ... ... Mr. Hoskins 
 
 Lewis, the Dauphiu ... ... ... ... ... ... Mr. AValleb 
 
 Archduke of Austria ... ... ... ... ... ... Mu. Knight 
 
 Giles, Vi.scomte de Meluu Mr. C. Wheatleigh 
 
 Chatelain d'Arras ... Mr. Wilson Thibaud, Count de Blois ... Mr. Josephs 
 
 Eu6tache de Neuville ... Mr. Seymour Chatelain de St. Omer ... Mr. Johnson 
 
 Baldwin de Bretel ... Mr. Philips Bartholomew de Eoye ... Me. Beown 
 
 Ralph de Beaumont ... Me. Thompson French Herald ... Mr. Meagreson 
 
 Chatillon, Count de Nevres (Amba.ssador from France to King John) Me. U. Mellon 
 
 Cardinal Pandulph, the Pope's Legate Mr. A. Younge 
 
 Citizen of Augiers Me. F. Younge 
 
 The Lady Constance (Mother to Arthur) ... Miss Glyn 
 
 Queen Elinor (Widow of King Henry II., and Motlierof King John) Mus. Archbulu 
 
 Blanche { 1^-^'^*- *" ^K';:^!^^^;^^^'^'"'' '"' { ^'^^ ^^ ^^^^^ 
 Lady Faulconbridge { ^'^''''^ *« 'i^liScoSrldgf '" ^"''"''' } M««- G«aham 
 
 To conclude witli the popular Farce of 
 
 TURNING THE TABLES. 
 
 Old Knibbs I^fii. Willi.vms 
 
 Jack Humphries ... ... ... ... ... ... IMu.Ydingk 
 
 Edgar de Co urcy ... Mr. C. Whkati.eigh Tom Thornton ... JIr. Ghaiiam 
 
 Jereiniali Blimps ... (for tiiis night only) l\Iu. PiiKi.rs 
 
 Miss Sally Knibbs ... Miss LrcY RAFfEH Mrs. Iluiiiiilirics ... I\l us. G kaiiam 
 Patty Larkius Miss Eliza Teavkks
 
 282 
 
 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 In ^Remembrance 
 
 OF THE 
 
 LATE Mr. DOUGLAS JERROLD. 
 
 COMMITTEE. 
 
 .John Blackwood, Esq. 
 Shirley Brooks, Esq. 
 •John B. Buckstone, Esq. 
 WiLKiE Collins, Esq. 
 Peter Cunningham, Esq. 
 John C. Deane, Esq. 
 Charles Dickens, Esq. 
 Hepworth Dixon, Esq. 
 John Forster, Esq. 
 Charles Knight, Esq. 
 
 John Leech, Esq. 
 Mark Lemon, Esq. 
 Edward Lloyd, Esq. 
 Charles Mackat, Esq. 
 Daniel Maclise, Esq., 
 
 R.A. 
 Sir Edward Bulwer 
 
 Lytton, Bart., M.P. 
 William C. Macreadt, 
 
 Esq. 
 Honorary Secretary — Arthtjr Smith, Esq. 
 
 OFFICE AT THE GALLERY OF ILLUSTRATION, 
 
 Sir Joseph Paxton, M.P. 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq. 
 William H. Russell, Esq. 
 Albert Smith, Esq. 
 Clarkson Stanfield, Esq. 
 
 R.A. 
 William M. Thackeray, 
 
 Esq. 
 Benjamin Webster. Esq. 
 W. Henry Wills, Esq. 
 
 REGENT STREET, WATERLOO PLACE, 
 
 handsomely placed at the disposal of the committee by MR. willert beale. 
 
 On Wednesday Evening, July 15th, 1857, 
 
 WILL BE REPRESENTED, AT THE 
 
 THEATRE ROYAL, HAYMARKET, 
 
 THE LATE MR. DOUGLAS JERROLd's COMEDY, IN THREE ACTS, 
 
 THE HOUSEKEEPER 
 
 (First produced at the Haymarket Theatre in the summer of 1833). 
 Sidney M;iynard ... Mr. Howe Tom Purple ... jNTr. W. Farren 
 
 Father Oliver ... (as originally performed by him) ... 
 Simon Box ... (as originally performed by him) 
 Daguerre ... Mr. Braid Lavalle .. 
 
 Bill ... Mr. Clark Benjamin 
 
 Christopher Layer ... ]Mr. E. ViLLlERS Felicia .. 
 
 Widow Duckliut 
 
 Mrs. Poynter Sophy Hawes 
 
 jMr. B. Webster 
 Mr. Buckstone 
 Mr. L. Walter 
 ... Mr. Rogers 
 Miss Reynolds 
 Miss M. Wilton 
 
 After The Housekeeper an Occasional Address will be spoken by 
 Mr. PHELPS. 
 
 after which the late MR. DOUGLAS JERROLD S DRAMA, 
 
 THE PRLSONER OF WAR. 
 
 Captain Channel, R.N. ... (as originally performed by him) ... Mr. Phelrs 
 Lieut. B. Firebrace, R.N. ... Mr. Howe Tom Heyday ... Mr. W. Farren 
 Beaver ... Mr. E. Villiers Boaz ... Mr. Rogers 
 
 Peter Pall Mall ... (as originally performed by him) ... Mr. Keeley 
 Chenille ... Mr. Braid Forest ... Mr. Coe 
 
 Monsr. La Rose ... Mr. Clark Gaoler ... Mr. Edwards 
 
 Garfon ... Master D. Carroll Captain of Guard ... 
 Clarina Channel ... Miss M.Oliver Mad. La Rose ... Mrs. Poynter 
 
 Polly Pall Mall ... (as originally performed by her) ... Mrs. Keeley 
 Mad. La Violette ... Mrs. Grifeiths Babette ... Miss Lavine 
 
 To conclude with a BALLET DIVERT1SSE:\IENT, 
 
 In which Miss Fanny Wright, Mr. Mackay, Mr. W. Driver, and the 
 corps de ballet will appear.
 
 PLAY-BILLS. 283 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, SADLER'S WELLS. 
 
 Sole Lessee— Mr. PHELPS. 
 
 Under the Management of Mr. PHELPS. 
 
 First appearance of Mr. EDMUND PHELPS. 
 
 Wednesday, Novemhcr ilst, 18G0, Tliursday, Fridaij, and Saturdaij, 
 
 22nd, 22>rd, and 2iih, 
 
 THE PERFORMANCES WILL COMMENCE WITH LORD BYRON's TRAGEDY OF 
 
 WERNER 
 
 Werner ... ]\Ir. Phelps 
 
 Ulric (his Son) Mr. Edmund Phelps 
 
 (His first ap]iearance in London) 
 
 Gabor Mr. H. Marston 
 
 Idenstein ... ... ... ... ... ... Mr. Barrett 
 
 Baron Stralenheim ... Mr. T. C. Harris Fritz ... Mr. C. Seyton 
 
 Bodolph ... Mr. Meagreson Henrick ... Mr. Chapman 
 
 Arnheim ... Mr. Lickfold Eric ... J\1r. Webster Vernon 
 
 Meister ... Mr. Gates Ludwig ... Mr. Henry 
 
 Josephine Miss Atkinson 
 
 Ida Stralenheim Miss Fanny Josephs 
 
 Scene — Partly on the Frontier of Silesia, and partly in Siegendorf Castle, 
 near Prague. Time — The Close of the Thirty Years' War. 
 
 to conclude with SHAKESPEARE S COMEDY OF 
 
 KATHAKINE AND PETRUCHIO. 
 
 Petruchio (a Gentleman of Verona, a Suitor to Katliarine) Mr. H. Marston 
 
 Baptista (a rich Gentleman of Padua) ]\Ir. T. C. Harris 
 
 Biondeilo Mr. C. Fenton 
 
 Hortensio (Suitor to Bianca) ... Mr. Webster Vernon 
 
 Music Master ]Mr. Meagreson 
 
 Grumio (Servant to Petruchio) Mu. Lewis IUll 
 
 Pedro ... j\Ir. Chapman Tailor ... Mr. Josephs Nathaniel ... Mr. Pidgron 
 
 Gregory ... Mr. Henry Cook ... Mu. Lickfold Waller ... Mr. Luce 
 
 Adam ... Mr. Frost Gabriel ... Mr. Scoley Paiph ... Mr. Gordon 
 
 Katharine, the Shrew ) -.^ , , ■ t, ,• , ( Mrs. ('harles Young 
 
 u- 1 c- *. ; Daughters to Baptista { ,,, , ,,., ,,„,, ij.,,,.^,, 
 
 Bianca, her Sister S, (Miss Cauuline Parkes 
 
 Curtis (Servant to Petruchio) Mrs. G. Hodson 
 
 Scene — Sometimes in Padua, and sometimes in Petnichio's House in 
 
 the Country. 
 
 On Monday, November 26th, Macklin's Comedy of 
 
 TJfE MAN OF THE WOKLD, 
 
 Sir Pertinax Macsycophant ... Mr, Phelps
 
 284 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 HER MAJESTY'S THEATEE. 
 
 FESTIVAL PERFORMANCES IN HONOUR OF THE NUPTIALS OF 
 
 f .|l.f . a;i2£ |lrraass flopl, toitlj f.^ij. fijc f rma Jrebmch 
 
 SfiUlliam ui ^Ivussia. 
 
 Tuesday Emning, \Wi January. T/mrsday Evening, 2\st January. 
 Saturday Evening, 23^yZ January. Friday Evening, '29tlt, January. 
 
 Tuesday Evening, 19th January, 1858, 
 
 COMMENCING AT HALF-PAST SEVEN, WITH SHAKESPEARE'S TRAGEDY OF 
 
 MACBETH 
 
 (Preceded by Spohr's Overture to Macbeth), 
 
 WITH Locke's incidental music. 
 
 The Scenery arranged by Mr. Charles Marshall. 
 
 Duncan (King- o£ Scotland) Mr. T. C. Harris 
 
 Malcolm ) ^ , ,, j^. „ f Mr. F. Robinson 
 
 Donalbain j ^""« *" ^he King j ^^^^^ ^_ p^^^^^^ 
 
 Macbeth ) ^ ^ c x.\ -v- ^ k \ Mr. Phelps 
 
 Banquo ) ^^"^^'^^^ ^^ *'^^ ^^^^S" ^ ^™^ ! Mr. A. Rayner 
 
 Macduff] i Mr. Howe 
 
 Lenox V Noblemen of Scotland ... ... ... < Mr. Seyton 
 
 Rosse ) ( Mr. Belford 
 
 Fleance (Son to Banquo) Miss Williams 
 
 Siward (General of the English Forces) ... Mr. Meagreson 
 
 Seyton ... Mr. C. Fenton A Physician ... Mr. Range 
 
 First Officer ... Mr. Lee Second Officer ... Mr. Lickfold 
 
 Lady Macbeth ... Miss Helen Faucit Gentlewoman ... Miss Rawlings 
 
 The Three Witches Messrs. Emery, Ray, and Lewis Ball 
 
 Hecate ... ' Mr. Weiss 
 
 Singing Witches ... Madame Weiss, jMdlle. Sedlatzek, Mr. Montem 
 
 Smith, Mb. Winn, and Mr. Bartleman 
 
 At the end of the Play, The National Anthrm, by Mme. Weiss, Mdlle. 
 
 Sedlatzek, Mr. Weiss, ]\Ir. M. Smith, Me. Winn, and Mr. Bartleman, 
 
 assisted by M. Benedict's Vocal Association of 300 Voices. 
 
 Conductor of the Music M. Benedict 
 
 To conclude with Mr. Oxenford's Farce of 
 
 TWICE KILLED. 
 
 Mr. Euclid Facile ... Mr. Keeley Mr. Ralph Reckless ... Mr. Kinloph 
 Tom (liis Servant) ... ... ... ... ... Mr. Clark 
 
 Mr. Holdfast ... Mr. Tilbury Mr. Fergus Fable ... Mr. W. Templeton 
 Robert ... Mr. Glindon Mrs. Facile ... Mrs. Leigh Murray 
 
 Miss Julia Flighty ... Miss Oliver Fanny Pepper ... Mrs. Keeley 
 
 Each Performance to commeuce punctually at 7.30. Doors will be open at 6.30.
 
 PLAY-BILLS. 285 
 
 ROYAL ENTERTAINMENT. 
 
 *3g Cominanb. 
 
 Her Majesty's Servants will perform, at Windsor Castle, 
 On Wednesday, oOth November, 1859, 
 
 SHAKESrEARE's TRAGEDY OF 
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET. 
 
 Escalus (Prince of Verona) Mr. Haywell 
 
 Paris (a Yoiin"- Nobleman, Kinsman to the Prince) Mr. Seyton 
 
 Montague | Heads of Two Houses, at variance with ( j\Ir. Meagreson 
 
 Capulet j each other ( jMk. J. W. Ray 
 
 Romeo (Son to Montague) Mr. F. Robinson 
 
 Mercutio (Kinsman to the Prince, and Friend to Romeo) Mr. PHELrs 
 
 Benvolio (Nephew to Montague, and Friend to Romeo) Mr. Belford 
 
 Tybalt (Nepliew to Lady Capulet) Mr. T. C. Harris 
 
 Friar Laurence (a Franciscan) ... ... ... Mr. H. Marston 
 
 Friar John (of the same Order) Mr. Chapman 
 
 Peter Mr. Lewis Ball 
 
 Sampson j c * + r' i *- ( ^^K- C. Fenton 
 
 r. ' Servants to Capulet { ^r p,„,,„ 
 
 Gregory ) ^ ( AlR. (jA'IES 
 
 Abram (Servant to Montague) Mr. Lickfold 
 
 Balthazar (Servant to Romeo) ]Mr. Ward 
 
 An Apothecary I^Ir. Williams 
 
 Page to Paris Miss C. Hill 
 
 Lafly Capulet (Wife to Capulet) Mrs. Saville 
 
 Lady Montague (Wife to Montague) ]\Irs. Hodson 
 
 Juliet (Daughter to Capulet) Mi,-s Heath 
 
 Nurse to Juliet Mrs. H, Marston 
 
 Scene, during the greater part of the Play, in Verona ; once, in the 
 
 Fifth Act, at Mantua. 
 
 Under the Management o£ Mr. George Ellis 
 
 and 
 Under the Direction of Mit. W. B. DoNNE, 
 
 Her Majesty's Examiner of Plays. 
 
 The Theatre arranged and the Scenery painted by 
 Mr. TIIDM.\S GRn':VE.
 
 28 r, 
 
 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 ROYAL ENTERTAINMENT. 
 
 5n €^crmmaitb. 
 
 Her Majesty's Servants will perform, at Windsor Castle, 
 0)1 Thursday, 2Uk January, 1861, 
 
 A PLAY, IN FIVE ACTS, BY SIR EDWARD BULWER LYTTON, ENTITLED 
 
 EICHELIEU; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE CONSPIRACY. 
 
 Louis the Thirteenth 
 
 Gaston, Dnke of Oi'leans (His Brotlier) ... 
 
 Favourite of the YLhvj: — First Gentle- 
 
 man of the Chamber 
 
 Baradas j 
 
 Cardinal Richelieu 
 
 The Chevalier de Mauprat 
 
 The Sieur de ( in attendance on the Kin.^ — one of 
 
 Bering-hen 
 
 the Conspirators 
 
 Joseph (a Capuchin — Richelieu's Confidant) 
 TT , ( an Officer of Richelieu's Household ) 
 
 => ( Guard — a opy ) 
 
 Fran9ois (First Page to Richelieu) ... 
 De Claremont (a Courtier) 
 Governor of the Bastile 
 Captain of the Archers 
 First Secretary 
 Second Secretary ... 
 Third Secretary 
 Page 
 
 Julie de Mortemar (an Orphan — Ward to Richelieu) 
 Marion de Lorme (in Richelieu's pay) 
 
 Mr. T. C. Harris 
 Mr. W. Vernon 
 
 Mr. H. Marston 
 
 Mr. Phelps 
 
 Mr. Hermann Ve/.in 
 
 Mr. J. G. Shore 
 
 Mr. Barrett 
 
 Mr. Meagreson 
 
 Mr. Seyton 
 Mr. C. Fenton 
 Mr. Lickfold 
 Mr. Josephs 
 Mr. Chapman 
 Mr. Ga'I'es 
 Mr. Henry 
 Miss E. Josephs 
 Miss Heath 
 Miss F. Josephs 
 
 Under the Direction of 
 Staffe Manager 
 
 Mr. W. Bodham Donne 
 Mr. George Ellis 
 
 The Theatre arranged and the Scenery painted by 
 Mr. THOMAS GRIEVE.
 
 LINES ON PHELPS. 287 
 
 The following lines, copied from a North London paper of 
 1856, may appropriately close the story of Mr. Phelps's labours 
 at Sadler's Wells : — 
 
 To SAMUEL PHELPS. 
 
 Unrivalled Phelps, who art hy f^enius blest, 
 
 Of all our Shakespeare's students, truest, best, 
 
 Bequeathed to thee the tragic robe, for ne'er 
 
 Was one more worthy found, its folds to wear; 
 
 Thy youthful mind by Shakespeare's soul inspired 
 
 To emulate his majesty aspired ; 
 
 'Twas Avon's bard endowed thee with the power 
 
 Which so enchants thy nation at this hour. — 
 
 Sage Prospero ! come forth, in thee we find 
 
 All which in marvel can absorb the nund. 
 
 Good Hamlet ! hearing woes thou dost bemoan, 
 
 Enrapt in thine, we thus forget our own. 
 
 With PosTHUMUS Ave angered are, till grief 
 
 Chastises him for his insane belief. 
 
 Yaliant jNIkrcutio, vainly we deplore 
 
 The fray through which we ne'er behold thee more. 
 
 Plithe Bully Bottom, fair Titania's pride, 
 
 Thy wit beneath thy mask thou canst not hide. 
 
 Great is our love for gentle Pericles — 
 
 Martyr to fate and fame's uncertainties. 
 
 The injured Timon gains our sympathy. 
 
 Proving how false and hollow friends may be. 
 
 Jealous Othello, with too willing ear, 
 
 Kindles our deep resentment and our fear. 
 
 Stern Hebrew Shylock, with thy dread revenge, 
 
 We loathe the insults Avhich thou wouldst avenge. 
 
 Fearful Macbeth, the Thane, with blood-stained hands, 
 
 What tlu'illing awe thy presence dread commands. 
 
 But oh. Sir Johx ! — our trusty Falstaff ! — Knight ! 
 
 Do we again heboid thee, waggish wight? 
 
 Yet, who is this, so grandly, kingly, comes, 
 
 Anudst a sound of trumpets and of drums? — 
 
 'Tis our Fourth Hrnry ; and anudst our tears. 
 
 His valiant son sonthes his declining years. 
 
 Then the Fifth Harry gleams upon our sight. 
 
 And wins us Agincourt, 'mid triumphs bright. 
 
 Now vain Malvolio, thiidving love to Avin 
 
 ]5y much (li>play of yellow-garlin-ed skin. 
 
 The aged, subtle, though ambitious, great, 
 
 Woi.sKY appears, in high and low estate.
 
 288 LIFE-WORK OF PHELPS. 
 
 Feeble old Shallow, Justice, though unjust, 
 Thou shalt recall thy youthful freaks, we trust. 
 Brqtus, with all his patriot glory crowned, 
 Acts o'er again the deeds so world-renowned. 
 Fantastic Spaniard, quaint Don Adriano : — 
 Who shall forget our elegant Armado 1 
 Hush ! list with throbbing heart — and j'ield a tear 
 To the most bitter wrongs of hapless Lear. 
 Listen to Jaques, who a sermon brings, 
 True as a man can preach on men and things. 
 Yet, more than these appear before our view. 
 With constant interest and traits ever new — 
 Witli art unequalled, and with talent rare, 
 Our Phelps has ever made each part liis care : 
 ^0 rant, or vile distorted picture gives. 
 But with such skill, we deem each portrait lives : 
 Tr^ie passion's energy, sweet nature's grace — 
 With soul enrapt, each wondrous truth we trace. 
 Hail ! mighty Phelps ! we soon may see the time, 
 When thy great mastery — eloquent, subHnie — • 
 Will be acknowledged by the present age, 
 The brightest star upon our brilliant stage. 
 
 Celine.
 
 CLOSING YEARS OF, HIS CAREER. 
 
 On giving up management he had overtures made to him 
 from the managers of several theatres, amongst others from 
 Fechter, who had taken the Lyceum, and he was persuaded 
 into engaging himself to him (for twelve months), to act three 
 nights a week, at a ridiculously low salary. His nephew tried to 
 combat this arrangement ; but in this, as on all other previous 
 occasions like it, he was exceedingly stubborn, giving every one 
 credit for behaving towards him as he would have behaved 
 towards them. He was told he would only be fooled, and fooled 
 he certainly was, as his name was underlined for months without 
 his being called on to act once. True, he took his salary, but 
 in his case this was a matter of secondary importance. In 
 the mean time Fechter's purpose was served, and Phelps was 
 kept from appearing as a counter-attraction at some other 
 theatre. 
 
 At last being tired of paying him for doiog nothing, and 
 hoping to get rid of him thereby, Fechter asked him to j^lay the 
 Ghost in Hamlet ; but this was rather too much even for his 
 good nature, and he gave him a pretty sharp reply through his 
 acting manager, and Fechter, in consequence, refused to pay 
 him his salary unless he did what was asked. The matter was 
 at last referred, by mutual consent, to the arbitration of Charles 
 Dickens, who soon gave it in Phelps's favour, and advised 
 Fechter to announce Othello, with ]Mr. Phelps as the ]\Ioor, and 
 himself as lago, but he did not follow this advice, and the 
 engagement was cancelled. 
 
 As soon as his name was taken out of the Lyceum bills he 
 had four offers made him, amongst them one from Falconer and 
 
 u
 
 290 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 Chatterton, who were then lessees and managers of Drury Lane. 
 His nephew advised him strongly to enter into arrangements 
 with them ; and this time — the second in his life that he ever 
 took the advice of any one — he followed it, and the result 
 proved the correctness of his adviser's views ; for he was for seven 
 years the main i^rop of that establishment. Although he had 
 then been before the London public for very nearly thirty years, 
 he was so popular that he drew, we believe, as naany people to 
 that theatre during those seven years as Edmund Kean did the 
 first seven years that he appeared in London. 
 
 Early in October, 1863, Lord Byron's Manfred was produced 
 under his direction, with immense success, and had a long run. 
 It was well cast, having in it several members of his late Sadler's 
 Wells company, as well as some Avho had formed a part of Mr. 
 Charles Kean's company at the Princess's. 
 
 John Oxenford in the Times of 13th October said : — 
 
 " The aspect of an audience like that which on Satmd ay night filled 
 Drur}' Lane to overflowing can alone impress us with the value of a 
 large theatre as a vehicle for expressing the predilection of the masses. 
 A large theatre scantily attended seems a dismal misappropriation of 
 space, and for ordinary purposes a house of moderate dimensions is 
 sufficient. But within narrow precincts it is impossible to ohtain the 
 semblance of a popular demonstration anything approaching the effect 
 of the ample pit, boxes, and gallery of Drury Lane, when packed close 
 with human particles. There could not on Saturday night be a 
 moment's doubt that the announcement of Lord Byron's Manfred, 
 with Mr. Phelps in the principal character, had caused a fever of 
 expectation and curiosity among that numerous class, in Avhose eyes 
 ' Old Lrury ' always has the prestige of nationality. Long before the 
 commencement of the plaj', not only was every place occupied, but a 
 train of disappointed persons might be seen returning from the doors, 
 unable to find room adapted to the purpose of either sitting or stand- 
 ing. The cause of attraction was twofold. In the first place, Manfred, 
 when brought out at Covent Garden in 1834 (nearly twenty years 
 after its publication), created sensation enough to be still remembered 
 by elderly i:)lay-goers, who preserved the tradition of its wonders to 
 the rising generation. The other cause of excitement was tlie appear- 
 ance of Mr. Phelps. Not only does this gentleman stand high as a 
 member of the theatrical profession, but his exertions in the cause of 
 the lecdtimate drama at Sadler's Wells have earned for him a vener- 
 ation Avhich in some persons almost borders on idolatry. In the eyes 
 of that large body of liberal-minded men who distinctly represent the 
 extended education of the present day, and who hail everything like a
 
 PEOFESSOR MORLEY ON MANFRED. 291 
 
 revival of the Sliakespearean drama as a laudable attempt to cultivate 
 the masses, Mr. Phelps is one of the great benefactors of his age ; and 
 probably among the throng of Saturday night were many tlelegates 
 from the north of London, anxious to honour their local hero on his 
 appearance at a theatre which never wholly ceases to be considered 
 national. ^Ve are, indeed, disposed to think that the anxiety to see 
 Mr. Phelps in his new position was even more potent than the curi- 
 osity excited b}^ the revival of Manfred, for scarcely ever was heard 
 such a burst of applause as arose on Saturday when the curtain was 
 drawn up, and discovered the tragedian alone upon the stage ; the 
 acclamations seemed to be all blended into one mighty voice, and that 
 voice to express but one feeling. Manfred, though a character of 
 man}'- words and of much reflection, is not a great acting part. The 
 etfect which the character is capable of producing depends on sustained 
 declamation, and perhaps the declamation of Mr. Phelps on Saturday 
 could scarcely be surpassed, so true was his reading, so just, while so 
 unobtrusive, was his discrimination of emotions." 
 
 Professor Morley, editor of the Examiner, says in his Journal 
 of a London Play-Goer, under date of the l7th October : — 
 
 " There are a few hopeful features in the recent bills of the play. 
 Unmistakable the other evening was the enthusiastic testimony of a 
 crammed house to the satisfaction of the public at seeing Mr. Phelps 
 in his right place upon the boards of Drury Lane. Manfred has the 
 best of successes ; it brings what it should be the aim of every manager 
 to bring — the educated classes back into the theatre. Mr. Falconer 
 has now, I believe, his fortune in his hands. Mr. Phelps is an actor 
 who does not fail in high endeavour to give poetry its voice upon the 
 stage. Some intlividualities of manner are felt as defects. Art uhso- 
 lutely perfect in any man does not appear once in three centuries. But 
 the play-goer has much to learn, let him be sure of it, who does not 
 feel the distinctive power of a true actor in Mr. Phelps's delivery of 
 Byron's poem. The piece deserves a long run, and its influence as an 
 antidote to some faults in the taste of the day will be all the stronger 
 for its want of effective dramatic action of the ordinary sort. When 
 the town has learnt to sit and hear poetry almost for its oAvn sake, and 
 because it is well interpreted, it will have made a safe step towards the 
 right sense of Avhat it ought to look for in a play. There is plenty of 
 vigorous dramatic action in a wholesome English play -book, but just 
 now it is very desirable to lay the emphasis on words and thouglits. 
 We get plays of action (from the French) worded only with feeble 
 common-place. The action and the actors are the play ; juinti'd it 
 usually is unreadable. I do not know whether there was any deliher- 
 ate design to lay stress on the right point in reviving a dramatic poem 
 that consists little of action, and almost wholly of a poet's thought 
 and fancy." 
 
 U 2
 
 292 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 The same writer says on the 7th November following : — 
 
 " It has "been proved conclusively that scenery alone will not draw 
 full houses to Drury Lane, yet Manfred crams the pit and fills the 
 theatre. There has seldom been a piece mounted with more lavish 
 and picturesque scenic effect, or with a stronger host of supernumer- 
 aries, than Mr. Falconer's Bonnie Dundee. Nevertheless, Bonnie 
 Dundee could be played only for a few nights to almost empty houses. 
 It is quite true that beautiful and apt scenery, harmonizing with the 
 descriptions and the few incidents of the poem, is necessary to the 
 successful stage appointment of Lord BjTon's Manfred. It is not less 
 true that a play Avith so little dramatic action, even with all the help 
 of the scenery, and Mr, Phelps in the chief character, would not draw 
 for a week if there were not a high intellectual poAver in the thoughts 
 and language. Therefore, after all credit has been given to the attract- 
 ive art of the scene-painter, the complete and unquestionable success 
 of a play rather of poetical thought and language than of action, in a 
 theatre that it takes a very large audience to fill, may be received as 
 evidence that I have not been arguing against the grain of the public, 
 but expressing its right mind in protest against plays of French inci- 
 dent and intrigue, that have no words in them worth a good actor's 
 speaking, and no characters Avorth subtle study for their full artistic 
 development. But, Ave are told, the race of good actors is all but 
 extinct; that there are not half-a-dozen actors equal to those parts in 
 Avhich the language rises above common-place, or Avhere there is demand 
 for anything not to be found in the usual assortment of conventional 
 emotions. I don't believe it. Good plays and good parts not in the 
 conventional, but in the best and truest sense, would make many good 
 actors. They Avould have to Avarm into the unaccustomed Avork of 
 really expressing freshly-observed niceties and varieties and harmonies 
 of character, and they Avould not know immediately hoAv to speak a 
 language of Avhich every Avord has to go forth Avith its soul in its 
 sound." 
 
 On Easter Monday of 1864 the First Part of Shakespeare's 
 King Henry IV. Avas produced, Mr. Phelps playing Falstaff; 
 Mr. Walter Montgomery, Hotspur; Mr. Walter Lacy, the 
 Prince of Wales ; Mr. Ryder, the King ; and the other cha- 
 racters equally well cast. On this production the editor of the 
 Uxaininer wrote on 1 4th May : — 
 
 " There is a particular enjoyment in the sort of criticism that the 
 players call for, Avhich should go far in aid of many better reasons 
 
 for the well-being of the stage among a free people 
 
 An English audience, with a thoroughly good English play before 
 it, should be one of the worthiest assemblies that the Avorld can show. 
 Again and again I say, let the players believe in their public.
 
 PROFESSOR MORLEY ON FALSTAFF. 293 
 
 They are not the fast men who have given their success to pieces 
 which have lately had remarkably long runs. There is a great play- 
 going public tliat includes all, except, perhaps, a still reluctant section 
 of the educated classes, and, of course, the class, every year diminishing, 
 of persons who retain in a religious dread of theatrical performances 
 the tradition of a time when there was honest reason why the theatre 
 should be in ill repute. London is now so populous, and the throng 
 of strangers daily passing through it is so vast, while there is so 
 much recovered good-will to the play-house, that it may take a year 
 to pass through a theatre by the houseful all the people who will 
 wish to see a play said to be good. This is, in fact, rather more 
 success than actors should desire, for to the development of an 
 appreciation of good acting, as much as to the development of good 
 acting itself, it is necessary that each actor should in his time play 
 many parts. 
 
 " If it is to become usual for single plays, when attractive, to run for 
 a year in unbroken succession of performances, it wiU be very difficult 
 for the young actor to acquire or to display his utmost skill, and the 
 public will also be ill trained to that sort of appreciation upon which 
 the maintenance of the best interests of the stage must finally depend. 
 ]\Ir. Phelps wisely varied his Manfred with a few performances of Sir 
 Pertinax Macsycophant, and has now passed with his art cleverly from 
 that gloomy state of metaphysical abstraction, as a melancholy soul too 
 ready to cast off its body, into the fat flesh of the gross and humorous 
 knight who may owe God a death, but would be loth to pay him 
 before his day. Such contrasts the good actor should take care to 
 set before his audience if he would make them decent critics of 
 his art ; and it is only by having opportunity to show the whole range 
 of his powers that an actor can ever hope to prove his right to a 
 first rank among his brethren. If Mr. Phelps played nothing else 
 than FalstafF, it would be remarkable. Considered as one part in a 
 singularly varied series, it is unquestionably good. He lays stress not 
 on Falstaff's sensuality, but on the lively intellect that stands for soul 
 as well as mind in his gross body, displays his eagerness to parry and 
 thrust, his determination to cap every other man's good saying with 
 something better of his own, which makes him, according to the 
 manner of the actor, thrust in with inarticulate sounds, as if to keep 
 himself a place open for speech while he is fetching u}) his own flagon 
 of wit from the farthest caverns of his stomach. And the fat knight 
 who so familiarly cracks his jokes with the Prince or upon Bardolpli 
 is not vulgarized in Mr. Phelps's reading. When the Prince and 
 AVestmoreland meet FalstafF on the road near Coventry, and the Prince 
 hails his old comrade with a joke, the change from the gay jesting 
 answer to the courteous salutation, ' My good lord of Westmoreland,' 
 is marked by the actor with a smooth delicate touch that stamjJS the 
 knight dibtinctly as a man well bora and bred."
 
 294 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 We are inclined to think he acted one or two other characters 
 besides those already mentioned during this first season ; but 
 Manfred was played for nearly one hundred nights. 
 
 The second season commenced on 2-ith September, 1864, 
 with the First Part of Henry IV. for one week, of which the 
 Examifber says : — 
 
 " Drury Lane reopened last Saturday, not only with the most 
 creditable programme it was in the manager's power to produce, but 
 with evidence of added strength in the cast. The First Part of King 
 Henry IV., as it has been performed this week, gains largely by the 
 substitution of Mr. H. Marston for Mr. Eyder in the part of the 
 King. Mr. Ptyder declaims very aybU, but he only declaims ; Mr. 
 Marston puts some of their life into the lines." 
 
 On 1st October the Second Part of Henry IV. was produced, 
 for Mr. Phelps's performance of the two characters of the 
 King and Justice Shallow ; his son Edmund played the Prince 
 of Wales ; and on this production the Examiner says : — 
 
 " Of the Second Part of King Henry IV. at Drury Lane, it will 
 suffice to record that Justice Shallow is in Mr. Phelps's hands, as in 
 Shakespeare's, anything but a merely comic character. Comic upon 
 the surface, it is at the core terribly earnest, and was meant, with a 
 profound seriousness under the jest, as a picture of grey hairs without 
 honour, age looking back to a false heaven of youthful lusts that in 
 its imbecile youth it had ill realized, instead of forwaixl to the well- 
 earned rest, and downward to the open grave before its feet. There is 
 nothing more sternly earnest in Shakespeare, and more tragic in its 
 undertone, than the dialogue between Shallow and Silence at the 
 beginning of the second scene of the third act, and so Mr. Phelps 
 feels it, as his acting shows. We have in this play the unhonoured 
 age of two old men, Shallow and Falstaff"; with these men on one 
 side of him, and the venerable Chief Justice on the other, Henry V. 
 speaks his closing speech, that begins, — 
 
 ' I know thee not, old man : fall to thy prayers ; 
 How ill white hairs become a fool and jester ! ' 
 
 There is a particular contrast between the unhonoured poverty of wit 
 and soul in the old Shallow, and the premature decay of the King, 
 weighted with mighty care for earthly diguities, that makes the 
 representation of the two characters by one competent actor fully 
 possessed with their significance a source of true artistic pleasure. It 
 is well, also, that the untaught in dramatic art should see how far the 
 skill of a true actor is removed from dull monotony, and through how 
 many differing conceptions it is able faithfully to follow with its 
 impersonation the true poet's mind."
 
 F. G. TOMLIXS ON OTHELLO. 295 
 
 On the 8th October Othello was produced, with Phelps as 
 the Moor, Creswick as lago, Mrs. A'^ezin and Miss Atkinson as 
 Desdemona and Emilia; and as it has since been said that just 
 then some of the wiseacres of the Press professed to have found 
 out, after thirty years' experience, that he was not a tragic actor, 
 but only a fairly good comic one, we insert here a criticism on 
 this performance written by Frederick Guest Tomlins, universally 
 admitted to have been one of the best Shakespearean critics of 
 his time, and which appeared in the Horning Advertiser : — 
 
 Drury Lane. 
 
 " The fluctuations of pubKc taste seem incomprehensible to those 
 who have not been accustomed to note them. Three years since, in the 
 height of what, for Avant of a better term, has been called the sensa- 
 tional drama — wlien headers into real water and the blowing up of a 
 steamer were sufficient to draw the town — it was supposed by the 
 caterers of such theatrical entertainment that the old literary drama of 
 the country had retired from the stage. There were not wanting those 
 who triumphed in the obliteration of what they deemed heavy, incom- 
 prehensible, and imnatural stuff ; their sympatliies and tastes being 
 confined to the violent, the actual, and the frivolous. This opinion 
 had spread even in literary circles, but no sooner are managers found 
 who wiU take the pains to represent with talent and taste the grand 
 Shakespearean drama, than the largest metropolitan theatre is filled 
 from the stalls to the extremest gallery, with an audience imbued with 
 the most earnest attention, and excited to the deepest interest and 
 most ardent expression by its personation. This was the spectacle 
 displayed at Drury Lane Theatre on Saturday night, when Othello 
 was rejjresented, with a considerable power of acting and careful stage 
 management. 
 
 " We have seen every actor of note from Edmund Kean in his earliest 
 time, and we can say with truth that we never saw the grand tragedy 
 pass so swiftly and perfectly before the eyes of the audience. It was 
 like a grand piece of music played flowiugly, with all those gradations 
 of effect that fine leading and perfection in the details produce. The 
 entirety of the play was admirably displayed, and it left the effect of a 
 complete and mnjestic work of art. We do not pretend to say tliat 
 we luive not seen greater actors in the secondary parts, but as the 
 entire performance of a drama, magnificent and perfect in its gigantic 
 proportions, it was completely performed ; and it produced a corre- 
 sponding effect on the varied and numerous audience. The huslied 
 silence as the dreadful catastrophe approaches, and the intense atten- 
 tion of the auilience, especially of the women, who with blanched 
 countenances watched the progress of the dreadful passions of the 
 Moor, were remarkable. It bespoke a complete triunjph of the literary
 
 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 and poetic drama, and proved for a thousandth time how the human 
 heart, answering to the calls on its deeper sympathies and emotions, 
 casts aside and forgets all the superficial sensations which lighter works 
 produce. 
 
 " The Othello of Mr. Phelps has come to be one of his finest perform- 
 ances ; and the taste and judgment of this admirable actor seem to 
 be capable of perpetual polish and refinement. He has now utterly- 
 cast aside the stage traditions, and all traces of the manners of his 
 predecessors ; and he gives a pure, original, and highly-wrought 
 portrait, entirely from his own study. The last lingering bursts of 
 the great Kean, who invented them ; the gurgling spasms wherewith 
 Macready expressed his agonies, are no longer to be traced ; nor is 
 there scarcely to be found in the portrayal any filling up of the 
 emotion with conventional tones and mere elocutionary skill. He has 
 moulded the conception in his intellect until it comes pure and perfect 
 from him ; and the portrait, a whole-length one, is complete in all its 
 grandeur. 
 
 " The colloquial purity of the first part, that is, until the third act, 
 when his destructive passion is a-svakened, was dignified and, perhaps, a 
 shade too grave, though there is much to be said in defence of this 
 tone on account of the Moorish nature and the quietude which deep 
 and perfect happiness induces. The emphasis was super-excellent, 
 all the pointed lines producing their effect, without the slightest stagi- 
 ness or self-consciousness. There Avas no roaring sneer when he bid 
 his followers and the rest to ' put up their bright swords lest the dew 
 might rust them ; ' bxit it was said naturally, yet most efficiently. So 
 in his speech to the Senate there was no spouting, and we could 
 believe that he was little used to set speechifying. His doting love 
 for his new-made wife was exquisitely marked throughout, and his 
 brimful happiness when he meets her at Cyprus, and the wars are 
 ended, and a long career of married bliss seems opened to him, was 
 expressed Avith a gentle power that seemed to be the overflowing 
 beneficence of a mighty nature at perfect rest. 
 
 " The violent emotion begins in the third act ; and when it does 
 begin, which is not till late in the scene, when the terrible suspicion is 
 excited, it rises gradually and naturally Avith no conscious expres- 
 sion, but Avith the volcanic and irrepressible power of an ii resistible 
 passion overAvhelming the usual self-masterdom of a great mind. It 
 is Avith folded arms the deep internal contention is carried on, until the 
 furious rage, indignation, and sorrow burst all bounds, and hence- 
 forward ' knoAV no retiring ebb, but keep due on like the Propontic 
 to the Hellespont' — a line, by the v/aj, Avhich Ave do not recollect 
 hearing 
 
 "Eage, tenderness, indignation, ferocity, fill up the remainder of 
 the play, until despair and remorse darken the picture to its deepest 
 tones, and nothing is left but to throw over the agony the Avide, blank 
 shroud of death. If in this arduous delineation Mr. Phelps may have 
 been surpassed in occasional intensity, he has never been surpassed in
 
 F. G. TOMLINS ON OTHELLO. 29^ 
 
 purity, feeling, and the sustenance of uniform, passionate expression. 
 He reached the highest point of art when, with his back to the 
 audience, lie stood with his head resting on his bosom, gazing on the 
 ' tragic loading of the bed,' a gaunt, fixed figure of despair. The utter- 
 ance of his breaking heart when his own blind credulity is revealed to 
 him was touching in the extreme, as were his frank avowals of his 
 guilt. 
 
 " Those who think this marvellously-drawn character is chiefly 
 contained in certain set speeches, such as the oration to the Senate, 
 and the farewell to the profession, may not join with us in our deep 
 admiration of Mr. Phelps's delineation. We are ready to acknowledge 
 that greater eifects have been produced by these hackneyed speeches. 
 But it is the principle of this actor, as of all true artists, not to indulge 
 in mere elocutionary display, but to subdue every part into harmony 
 and proportion. ^Notwithstanding, we could desire a little more ani- 
 mation in the one and a more despairing passion in the other. The 
 farewell speech is perhaps in itself redundant, and is one of the few 
 instances where the fecundity of the great dramatist's imagination 
 induced him to carry on the images beyond the feeling. He has, how- 
 ever, in every play some such glorious rhapsody, that runs the emotion 
 to an ecstasy almost beyond human power to express. But the noble 
 and artistic rendering of the entire character by Mr. Phelps must not 
 be taken to pieces like a trinket, but must be appreciated and felt as a 
 complete and grand work of art. The appreciation in the theatre was 
 correspondent, and the applause spontaneous and universal, the calls 
 being injudiciously frequent. 
 
 " We have left ourselves but little room to speak of the other per- 
 formers. Mr. Creswick's lago has many merits and some deficiencies. 
 We heartily thank him for that he did not perpetually give side 
 grimaces to display the craft and cunning of the impersonator of 
 malice. So far that is good. Mr. Creswick has great vigour of action, 
 an admirable presence, and fills the stage, ever making his efficient 
 mark. He commenced in a colloquial manner tliat induced us to hojie 
 we were to have a new and moderated view of the character, Avith the 
 strong lights thrown in with a master's hand. But conventional 
 notions prevailed, and a continued expression of force marred some- 
 what the effect. No character has been more variously displayed, 
 and there is none of which more different conceptions arc realized 
 by the spectator or reader. We cannot but think that the gigantic 
 malice should be the leading expression, rising as it does to the 
 very sublimity of hatred. IMuch applause was bestowed on I\rr. 
 Creswick's delineation, and he was tumultuously a])plauded and called 
 for. 
 
 " Mrs. Vezin's Desdemona was feminine, elegant, and pleasing, and 
 she looked charmingly. The tragedy re(|uired in this i)art — as now 
 represented, for the best of her scenes is cut out — is not much ; but 
 what there is necessitates groat and sudden powers of exjjrossing s\ir- 
 prise and terror, and throughout an intense and most abiiling love.
 
 298 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 Miss Atkinson's Emilia is the very perfection of the expression of a 
 dauntless, genuine woman. Her taste and judgment are excellent. 
 The play in other respects might have been cast better. Mr. Marston 
 should have played Cassio, or if not, Mr. Walter Lacy, for there is a 
 robustness of intellect and person in this gentleman that cannot be 
 subdued to the silly gentleman of Venice, Roderigo. The business of 
 the play is well managed and sufficiently illustrated, although there 
 has been no new expenditure on the scenery ; an outlay not to be 
 expected, as the play can only be performed for four nights." 
 
 On the 15th of October Cymbeline was acted, Phelps being 
 Leonatus Posthumus; Creswick, lacliimo; and Helen Faucit 
 (who had returned to the stage to act with Phelps this season), 
 Imogen. 
 
 On the 22nd October Macbeth was acted, for the first time 
 under the manao-ement of Falconer and Chatterton, and was 
 played with the following cast four evenings a week until 
 Christmas : Macbeth, Mr. Phelps ; Macduff, Mr. Creswdck ; 
 Lady Macbeth, Miss Helen Faucit (Mrs. Theodore Martin). 
 On the other two evenings, sometimes pieces were produced 
 in wdiich Miss Faucit acted, and on others Macbeth was done 
 with Mr. Creswick as Macbeth, and Miss Atkinson as Lady 
 Macbeth. 
 
 Early in 1865 he was playing his two great characters of 
 Wolsey and Richelieu. The Examiner of February 25 speaks 
 of them thus : — 
 
 " Mr. Phelps has been representing two great Cardinals, Wolsey and 
 Ptichelieu, and is now acting Eichelieu in Sir Bulwer Lytton's play to 
 honestly full houses, Avhich enjoy throughout not only the acting, but 
 the fine dramatic writing also that it worthily illustrates. The skilfully 
 woven plot, the character of Richelieu expressed by touches very 
 various yet all Avell harmonized, the thoroughly dramatic dialogue that 
 elicits character and is instinct with thought, the language that has in 
 its measured cadence a true music and an unaffected dignity, all this 
 — the genius, in short, of the author — is felt, as it should be, through 
 the actor. 
 
 " In Richelieu, how careful is the dramatic painting of a character 
 worth dramatizing well. It has ambition, honesty, dominant love for 
 Prance. There is delight in the sense of a power that survives and 
 surpasses the old vigour of arm. To the craft of the fox are added 
 touches of love for the orphan girl whom the old statesman guards as 
 a trust from his dead friend of old. There is clear worldly insight, 
 with the flattered and waylaid minister's bitterly low estimate of men ; 
 dry humour, genial enjoyment of the gallantry of manhood j a touch
 
 PROFESSOR MORLEY ON RICHELIEU AND WOLSEY. 299 
 
 of Richelieu's literary vanity in regard for the young critic who knew 
 Avhere to applaud his play. All this we have in the person of an old 
 man, strong only of wit, now dallying playfully with powder over those 
 who come near to his lieart, now bitter in pursuit of his own foes and 
 those of France, now defying and now counterfeiting deatli ; a feeble 
 old man, whose life ebbs with his power to serve France, clasping a 
 feebler girl to his heart, and against the lusts of a king rising in her 
 defence, armed with the thunders of the Church ; a subtle minister, in 
 the hour of his fall turning defiant upon his triumpliant enemies ; a 
 dying man into whom strong life flows back as there return into his 
 care the fortunes of his country. In these and all other phases of the 
 character Mr. Phelps, by numberless touches of an art kindred to 
 the poet's genius, gives to Sir Bulwer Lytton's Eichelieu life again, 
 and a strong life, upon the English stage. 
 
 " Mr. Pheips's Wolsey is remarkable for the impression of busy 
 power subtly given through a marked quietness of demeanour. He 
 moves easily, as a Cardinal familiar with Courts, and meekly, except 
 in the first proud glance at defiant Buckingliam, and in the short scene 
 wherein Wolsey, left alone with Cardinal Campeius, lays aside his 
 mask and shows the proud face underneath it. Every wliere, until the 
 scene that shows his fall, Wolsey is the Cardinal in presence of the 
 world. He sits still under the imputations cast on him by Katharine, 
 when she tells the King of the exactions suffered by liis subjects. He 
 is as humbly quiet at Blackfriars, and it Avould be a shrewd critic who 
 could define exactly how by gesture, turn of head, nice management of 
 voice, the proud ambitious spirit makes itself felt in that unobtrusive 
 figure. In the last scenes, showing Wolsey's fall, there is a quiet 
 restlessness of scheming that precedes collapse, and in the fall itself a 
 pathos in the quietness with which the old man stands at bay amid 
 the mocking courtiers ; a dignity of pathos in his pointing of the moral 
 of his life at Court. Colley Cibber, if I rightly understand the records, 
 was a Wolsey without ease of movement or of action, and with much 
 display of a proud speech and bearing ; the Wolsey of Mr. Phelps is 
 the reverse of this. His movements are perfect in ease, and in the 
 quiet self-possession of a man who always surely steals towards the 
 end he seeks. With help only of a flash or tw^o of haughty spirit, as 
 in the gesture that, when they are alone, denies his fellow-cardinal, 
 Campeius, precedence of exit, it is usually by a visil)le attempt to veil 
 the inner j)ride that its intensity is the more strongly shown. Shake- 
 speare has painted it all in his verse — in Wolsey's relentless crushing 
 of defiant Buckingham, in tlio meek Cardinal who is so hard in 
 council, who is pitilessly watchful of all those who come between liini 
 and the King, a luxurious host, a scheming servant of the Pope, but 
 with high aims that give him dignity in the last hour f)f his disgrace. 
 Shakespeare's Wolsey speaks to us most intelligibly when he comes 
 free from distortion by a violent interpreter."
 
 300 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 F. G. Tomlins in the Morning Advertiser also wrote as 
 follows on Richelieu : — 
 
 Drury Lane. 
 
 " The programme so tastefully and artistically laid out by the 
 manager of this theatre is being rigidly adhered to, and last night Sir 
 Bulwer Lytton's historical play of liichelieu was brought out in a 
 thoroughly efficient style, Mr. Phelps playing the Cardinal. This is 
 one of the best of this able actor's characters, and its mixture of high 
 declamation, strong passion, and domestic feeling is calculated to 
 bring out the peculiar talents of that artist in high relief. His heroic 
 bearing, sly sarcasm, human sympathy, inordinate vanity, and extra- 
 ordinary energy are all admirably portrayed. The quieter parts seem 
 to our mind most to develop the extraordinary powers of the actor, 
 though of course the telling and somewhat stagy points draw down the 
 most vehement applause. As a stage play it is very admirably con- 
 structed, whatever the grave historical student may think of it as a 
 delineation of one of the craftiest and most undemonstrative statesmen 
 that ever lived. Fact and fiction, however, seldom agree, and Mr. 
 Phelps's delineation of the character the literary baronet has chosen to 
 draw is a very fine stage portrait. The enthusiasm shown by the 
 audience was unbounded, and, in addition to a call at the end of the 
 acts, his conclusion was applauded to the very echo that doth applaud 
 again." 
 
 The third season commenced as usual early in the autumn of 
 1865, and soon after King John was produced, and ran up to 
 Christmas. Cast as follows : King John, Mr. Phelps ; Earl of 
 Salisbury, Mr. Edmund Phelps; Hubert de Burgh, Mr. Swin- 
 bourne; Philip Faulconbridge, Mr. James Anderson; Philip, 
 King of France, Mr. A. Rayner ; Lewis the Dauphin, Mr. F. 
 Barsby ; Cardinal Pandulph, Mr. Barrett; Chatillon, Mr. Charles 
 Harcourt ; an English Herald, Mr. Charles Warner ; a French 
 Herald, Mr. Lickfold; Elinor, Mother of King John, Mrs. H. 
 Vandenhoff; Constance, Miss Atkinson; Blanche, Miss Rose 
 Leclercq ; and Lady Faulconbridge, Mrs. G. Hodson. 
 
 Macbeth and other Shakespearean plays, as well as several 
 from the pens of modern authors, were acted after Christmas to 
 the end of the season. 
 
 The fourth season, in 1866, again commenced with King John, 
 but with a difference in the cast of two of the principal charac- 
 ters, Mr. Barry Sullivan replacing Mr. Anderson in the character 
 of Faulconbridge, and Mrs. Hermann Vezin Miss Atkinson as
 
 THE MORNING HERALD ON FAUST. 301 
 
 Constance ; otherwise the cast was much the same as the year 
 before. 
 
 In October, however, the chief revival of this season was the 
 production of an adaptation by Mr. Bayle Bernard of Goethe's 
 great drama of Faust, which was finely mounted and finely cast. 
 Phelps played Mephistopheles ; his son Edmund, Faust ; Wm. 
 Harrison, the tenor singer, Valentine ; Mrs. Hermann Vezin, 
 Margaret ; and Mrs. H. Vandenhoff, Martha. On the acting of 
 the principal characters in this piece the Morning Herald and 
 Standard said : — 
 
 "From the long list of characters, human, semi-human, and super- 
 human, we select as entitled to special mention in the performance the 
 Mephistopheles of Mr. Phelps, the Marguerite of Mrs. Hermann 
 Vezin, the Martha of Mrs. H. Vandenhotf, and the Faust of Mr. 
 Edmund Phelps. The Mephistopheles of Mr. Phelps is an astonishing 
 effort of art, aud in all probability the part had not been previously 
 sustained with such a grasp of mental power and physical picturesque- 
 ness combined. Every attitude, every look, every word, has been 
 sedulously considered and studied, until nothing could be added from 
 meditation, nothing improved by labour. Mr. Phelps's face is pecu- 
 liarly adapted to the expression of the stronger passions — his features 
 are unusually mobile, and when he likes to assume it, there is ' a 
 laughing devil in his sneer ' which is entirely beyond the reach of 
 ordinary actors. His voice, too, is profoundly sepulchral in its tones, 
 so that altogether it was a grand idea of INIr. Chattertou to think of 
 Mephistopheles in conjunction with ]\Ir. Phelps — good for himself, the 
 manager, and good for Mr. Phelps, whose reputation the performance 
 cannot fail greatly to enhance. The favourite part of IMarguerite was 
 most charmingly and touchingly played by Mrs. Hermann Vezin, 
 although we must take exception to the petulance of manner displayed 
 in the first meeting Avith Faust. Marguerite is all gentleness as well 
 as goodness, and could hardly be won even to a show of anger. Tlie 
 placid strain put into Marguerite's mouth by M. Gounod when Faust 
 accosts her, and she replies in those strange words of the English 
 translation, — 
 
 ' I'm not a lady, 
 Nor yet a beauty,' — 
 
 shows at all events that we are not singular in our opinion. In all 
 else Mrs. Vezin was admirable, and the scenes in the last two acts 
 were worthy the most accomplished living actress. ^Ir. Edmund 
 Phelps was seen and heard to special advantage in Faust, which, if it 
 demands no great tragic effort, requires an earnestness of purpose and 
 a high tone of feeling tliat remove it fiom the category of (•(Uiiinon-placo 
 characters. Mr. Edmund Phelps's elocution is measured, clear, aud
 
 302 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 distinct, and his stage movements are extremely agreeable, so that 
 altogether Ins heing cast for Faust was no mistake. Tklrs. H. Vanden- 
 hoff'^made a very merry Martha — better, indeed, could not have been 
 desired ; and the other parts, comprising a large variety, were efficiently 
 supported. Miss Poole sang the lovely song of Eosa, or Eoscher, from 
 Spohr's Faust, sweetly and neatly, and Mr. Wm. Harrison gave the 
 song of Euryanthe with all his pristine vigour." 
 
 The Morning Star said : — 
 
 " Mr. Phelps's Mephistopheles will rank among his finest imperson- 
 ations. It is wholly a subtle and intellectual impersonation. He has 
 discarded the traditional semi-jocular gentleman, who seemed never 
 quite sure whether he ought to attend upon Faust or play comedy for 
 the benefit of the upper gallery. We would almost say that Mr. 
 Phelps had adopted rather the poetical than the dramatic idea of 
 Mephistopheles ; that he seeks to represent the evil shadow of Faust, 
 the half-concealed, insidious spirit of denial which is more a part of 
 Faust than an outward tangible demon luring him on to ruin. The 
 warm impulsive Henry of Mr. Edmund Phelps showed in excellent 
 contrast with this subdued callousness, this careful prompting of 
 wickedness. Mrs. Hermann Vezin, in the first place, looked her part, 
 and the innocence and tenderness of the sweet German maiden she 
 bore with her to the end. There was but one flaw in that represent- 
 ation of girlish simplicity— the startling asperity of Margaret's reply to 
 the first greeting of Faust. Goethe talks of petulance, but surely 
 Gretchen,"uttering these charmingly simple words, — 
 
 'Ich bin keiii Fraulein, und nicht schbn, 
 Uud kann allein zum Hause geh'n,' — 
 
 need not have burst up with the affected indignation of a Eegent 
 Street milliner's apprentice. The scene in the dungeon was powerfully 
 and strikingly done ; and Mrs. Vezin shared the honour Avith Mr. 
 Phelps and Mr. Edmund Phelps of being more than once called before 
 the curtain to receive the enthusiastic welcome of an unusually crowded 
 house. Mrs. VandenhofE's Martha was broad and vigorous, and pro- 
 voked much laughter. The minor characters in the piece were so well 
 filled as to be in keeping Avith the chief characters — a result that can 
 only be accomplished with a stock of good actors such as are always 
 ' on hand ' at Drury Lane." 
 
 The Observer said (see also pages 314 to 317) : — 
 
 " Of course in the acting the character of Mephistopheles stands 
 pre-eminent, and this is embodied by Mr. Phelps with the utmost 
 care. His conception of the part is a sound, common-sense one, a,nd 
 he carries it out elaborately. The serious reflections and the mocking 
 suggestions are delivered in a light careless tone that is supernatural 
 in^its intense contrast with the thought and the situation, and the
 
 PRODUCTION OF THE KING 0' SCOTS. 303 
 
 make-up and dress are capital. Mr. Phelps must have studied pro- 
 foiTndly to produce so deep an impression as he does with the appear- 
 ance of so much ease. Xot the slightest inflection of meaning is lost. 
 In no part for a long time has this esteemed artist appeared to greater 
 advantage than in Mephistopheles, and his performance was duly 
 appreciated by the audience, who called for him several times in the 
 course of the evening. Mr. Edmund Phelps spoke the words of Faust 
 with well-placed emphasis, and his action was appropriate ; but a little 
 more fire — and in places tenderness- — infused into certain portions 
 would improve his personation. The Margaret of Mrs. Hermaun Yezin 
 is replete with intelligence ; her first reply to Faust was a touch more 
 shrewish than is required ; but in the garden scene, where she recounts 
 her home life to her lover, in the agonies of the cathedral scene, and 
 in the wild ravings of the prison scene, she never failed to convey with 
 force the meaning of her author. ]\Irs. H. Vandenhoff threw much 
 humour into the little part of Martha, and gave great point to the 
 dialogues with Mephistopheles ; and Mr. AVm. Harrison, who had a 
 spirited song to sing, played Valentine carefully. Miss Poole has 
 little else to do than to sing, which she did as truly and expressively 
 as always, the ' Twilight Song' by Spohr." 
 
 The fifth season commenced as usual in the early autumn 
 of 1867, and the principal productions up to Christmas were 
 Macbeth, and Byron's Marino Faliero under the title of The 
 Doge of Venice ; he played the Doge, another very successful 
 and great performance on his part. During the remainder of 
 the season he appeared in a round of his j^rincipal characters. 
 
 The sixth season commenced at the usual time, and before 
 the end of September, 18G8, an adaptation of Sir Walter Scott's 
 novel of The Fortunes of Kigcl, by Andrew Halliday, was pro- 
 duced under the title of The King o' Scots, in which he appeared 
 in the two characters of King James I. and Trai^bois (the miser), 
 and made a great hit in the dual rej^resentation. On this 
 production and his performances we extract the following from 
 the Times, the Daily Telegra'ph, the Morning Post, and the Daily 
 News respectively, of the 28th of that month : — 
 
 " Mr. Andrew Halliday has executed his task with great skill. 
 !Mr. I'holps represents the miser Trapbois, as avcU as James the King 
 in ]\Ir. Halliday's ue\t play. To this portrait of Avarice, in its most 
 servile aspect, he gives the liighest finish. AVith such a masterly 
 performance as Mr. Phelps's delineation of King James, and such a 
 l)icture of Old London as Mr. lieverly has created, Mr. Chatterton 
 begins his season with every prospect of success."
 
 304 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 " The drama of The King o' Scots may be safely trusted to the 
 support of the public. Mr. Halliday, who has undertaken the task 
 of the adapter, is to be accredited with all the praise due to an 
 accomplished writer. The impersonation of James I. may be fairly 
 pronounced among the best of Mr. Phelps's recent assumptions. Old 
 Trapbois the miser, who becomes the hero of the second act, is re- 
 markably effective — the wandering look, the piping voice, and the 
 tottering step thoroughly realized the idea of the doting usurer. To 
 those who demand amplitude of scenic illustrations, Mr. Chatterton 
 has been liberal enough. The opening scene represents Fleet Street 
 before the Great Fire ; and the Alsatian revels in Old "Whitefriars 
 form a striking scene of animation. The third act opens with another 
 elaborate set, in which old London Bridge is built substantially upon 
 the stage." 
 
 " Mr. Phelps has shown, in his delineation of the King, all the 
 features as portrayed by Sir Walter Scott ; while those of the miser 
 Trapbois, even at his last gasp, were all conveyed by the same actor 
 in a manner which proved him to be an apt student of human nature. 
 The piece was superbly put on the stage." 
 
 " An elaborate spectacular drama, combining the scenic features 
 of the realistic school with a certain amount of legitimate acting, 
 was produced at Drury Lane on Saturday night. j\Ir. Halliday, the 
 present adapter of King o' Scots, has so arranged his version of the 
 novel that Mr. Phelps may double the part of King James with that 
 of Trapbois the usurer ; and though it is possible to have too much 
 of a thing, JMr. Phelps is too eifective in Scotch and strong character 
 parts ever to tire the audience. Mr. Chatterton has wisely ordered 
 several most picturesque views of the old metropolis from Mr. 
 Beverly ; these pictures are painted in Mr. Beverly's best style. 
 Alsatia is a kind of ' thieves' kitchen ' of the Middle Ages, in which 
 the Chick-a-leary songs and dances of the period are performed with 
 great spii'it." 
 
 During the autumn of 1869 Mr, Phelps went into the provinces, 
 and played at different theatres until the spring of the follow- 
 ing year, when a disagreement occurred between him and Mr. 
 Chatterton, the lessee and manager, and he left the theatre ; for 
 we find by the following notice in the Morning Advertiser of the 
 4th of March, 1870, that he was at Astley's : — 
 
 " This house may be said to be inseparably connected with associa- 
 tions of the circus — horses and zebras, elephants, monkeys, and the 
 general entertainments presented in the ring. Even its sensational 
 dramas and pantomimes had a large portion of equine life, and ' hazard- 
 ous ground and lofty tumbling' imported into them. Mr. E. T. 
 Smith has changed all that, and since the withdrawal of his very
 
 HE REAPPEARS AT DRURY LANE IN 1871. 305 
 
 successful pantomime has entered upon a new and more successful 
 career by the engagement of ]\Ir. Phelps and Mr. and Mrs. Hermann 
 Yezin, admirably supported by a well-trained and powerful company, 
 to perform a series of the tragedies and plays with which the names 
 of these eminent artists are associated. Last night iMarklin's well- 
 known comedy, The ]\Iau of the World, was performed for the first 
 time at Astley's. Many years ago, when Mr. Phelps first appeared in 
 the character of Sir Pertinax Macsycophant, he took the public by 
 storm. He was looked upon as a tragedian gre((t in Macbeth, Otiiello, 
 and similar impersonations; but the force, variety, and finish of his 
 peiformance of the man who had made his way up in the world by 
 ' booing,' and secured position and wealth by an utter disregard of 
 everything in the way of conscience or honour,, was pronounced at 
 the time to be the most perfect study and vigorous delineation of 
 character seen on the stage in modern times. Last night Mr. Phelps 
 amply sustained his high reputation in the part. His complete mastery 
 of the Scotch tongue, — in jironunciation, accent, and inllection, — the 
 real earnestness with which he pursues tl.e great object of his life, the 
 coaxing, cringing manner to his superiors in rank and station, the 
 coarse and overbearing tyranny to those over whom he has control, 
 save when he wants to enlist their assistance in carrying out his 
 schemes, and the fertility of invention displayed when checkmated 
 in some of the schemes, were all u-onderfuUij portrayed. The crowded 
 house received him with long-continued plaudits on his entrance in 
 the second act, and the drop-scene fell upon a tempest of applause at 
 the close of the third, in Avhich, with a vividness and power of which 
 words can convey no idea, he describes to his son the means Ijy which 
 he has risen in the world, and proposes himself as an exam})le to be 
 copied. . . . The curtain fell amidst enthusiastic applause, and jMr. 
 Phelps was recalled to receive the unanimous and hearty approval of 
 the delighted alidience." 
 
 In the autumn, say September, of this year (1870) he was at tlie 
 Queen's Theatre, Long Acre, and played Bottom the Weaver in 
 a higlily eulogized revival of A Midsummer Night's Dream, wliicli 
 had a good run. The Tempest was also produced, and several 
 other Shakespearean and other plays, in all of which he appeared. 
 
 After this, his next London engagement was at the Princess's, 
 under Mr. F. B. Chatterton's management, — with whom he had 
 evidently again become on friendly terms, — and where he remained 
 for some montiis, and then went into the provinces, reappear- 
 ing at Drury Lane in the early autunm of 1871 in another 
 play from the pen of Mr. Andrew Halliday, taken from Scott's 
 Ivanhoe, entitled Rebecca, in tlic character of Isaac of Yoik, a 
 part he had played at Preston in another version sojne forty
 
 306 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 years before, as will be seen in the play-bill on page 63. The 
 piece went well, and his performance was a good one ; great it 
 could not have been, for there was not enough in it. 
 
 After this he again went to the Princess's, and remained 
 there off and on until near the end of 1872. He appeared 
 during this period in several of his best tragic as well as comic 
 assumptions, and also in a new play called On the Jury, by 
 his young friend. Watts Phillips (whom he had known from 
 boyhood), and in which Benjamin Webster also appeared, with 
 whom he had not played since 1840, when he was under 
 Webster's management. 
 
 It may here be stated, that he would not have appeared in 
 such a play, or such a character, but to serve the author, whom 
 he originally introduced to Mr. Webster, and was the means of 
 the latter's producing several of his plays at different periods at 
 the Adelphi Theatre. 
 
 One of the last characters that he played at the Princess's was 
 Hamlet.* Soon after this he again appeared in Sir Pertinax 
 Macsycophant ; but one evening, when a cold east wind was 
 blowing, in walking from the stage door (after performing this 
 character) to his brougham, which stood in Oxford Street, 
 although well wrapped up, he caught a severe chill, which laid 
 liim on a sick bed for some weeks. As soon, however, as he was 
 able to be removed, he went to Ventnor, the air of which place 
 in due time restored him to health and strength, although he 
 was never again the same man upon the stage.^f 
 
 * I went to see hini the last time he ever performed in it, and I 
 unhesitatingly say, although he was then within two or three months of 
 attaining his sixty-ninth birthday, it was one of the very finest imperson- 
 ations of that great character that I ever saw at his hands, and to niy 
 thinking liis Hamlet was the finest the stage had had in my time ; this 
 was also the opinion of all the critics whose opinions I thought worth having. 
 The house was cnimmed from floor to ceiling, and he produced as great 
 effects as ever in all hi'^ great scenes ; he was applauded to the echo, and 
 called for several times, and received with the greatest enthusiasm. I 
 would not have missed seeing that performance for something, as 1 felt 
 sure it would be his last of that character, although it was not declared to 
 be such, as far as the bills were concerned. — W. M. P. 
 
 t Up to that period I had seen little or no falling off in his physical 
 powers, which appeared to me to have been marvellously preserved. 
 — W. M. P.
 
 FAREWELL ENGAGEMENTS. 307 
 
 After this he appeared in several revivals of Shakespearean 
 plays at the Prince's Theatre, Manchester, then under the 
 management of Mr. Charles Calvert, criticisms on which will 
 be found further on. In London he played at the Gaiety, 
 frequently, under the management of Mr. Hollingshead, whose 
 article upon him, which appeared in The Theatre after his 
 death, will also be found further on.* 
 
 In January, 1877, he made up his mind to commence playing 
 his farewell engagements at all the principal provincial theatres, 
 but he only carried this out at three, viz. Manchester, Dublin, 
 and Liverpool. 
 
 Towards the end of 1877 he played for some time at the 
 Aquarium Theatre several of his best characters, and agreed to 
 act there again under Miss Litton's management early in 1878 ; 
 but before this latter came off he, after repeated solicitations, 
 
 * It has been stated in an earlier portion of tliis work, that lie had never 
 sat for his portrait up to a certain period to any one but a cousin of: mine, 
 on my mother's side, to whom as a young and rising artist he was much 
 drawn, and, like Mr. Macready with George Scharf, gave him an entree, 
 free, to the theatre, to enable him to study scenic effects. 
 
 In his latter days, however, he also became much attached to young 
 Mr. J. Forbes-Robertson ; indeed, so much so, that after he first played 
 with him at Manchester in 1874, he always had him engaged to play 
 Cromwell, Prince Henry, Egerton, Joseph Surface, and other characters, 
 lie also had a high opinion of him as an artist in oil, and sat to him for 
 his portrait in Cardinal Wolsey, which, when finished, the Garrick Club 
 purchased, and have kindly permitted a reproduction of it to appear in 
 this volume. On the original the artist inscribed the words: 
 
 " Samuelem Phelps Tragoedura 
 Discipulus in arte scenica 
 Johnston Forbes-Robertson depinxit. 1878." 
 
 In 1876 his friend John Coleman became (unfortunately for him) lessee 
 and manager of the Queen's Theatre, Long Acre, and to start his work Avilh 
 something like edut, Mr. Phelps proposed to him, I believe, to play, as a 
 prologue to his production of Henry V., tlie fourth act of Ilcm-y IV., in 
 which he played his great character of the ambitious Bolingbrokc, and 
 those who saw him on that occasion will remember it as long as memory 
 lasts. The production did not prove a financial success, and with a view 
 to help the speculation a little, he consente I to take half salary towards 
 the f-nd of his engagement. John Coleman has very gratefully referred 
 to his performing for him on this occasion in a prize essay for wiiicli 
 he gained fifty pounds. — W. M. P. 
 
 X 2
 
 308 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 but against his will almost, agreed to recite at the Albert Hall 
 the illustrative verses at a performance of Athalie, which had 
 he not done he might still have been alive. He first of all 
 caught a cold there at rehearsal, and increased it so much at the 
 performance, either the same or next evening, that he had a bad 
 attack of lumbago, a thing he had never suffered from before in 
 his life. This was in the middle of a week in February, and 
 he was to appear at the Aquarium on the following Monday, 
 which he did, although altogether unfit. He acted all that 
 week, and five days of the next, Cardinals Richelieu and 
 Wolsey alternately, his last part being Wolsey, on Friday, 
 1st March.* Considering his state of health, he went through 
 the part marvellously, until he came to the last great speech, 
 commencing, 
 
 " Farewell, a long farewell to all my greatness," 
 
 into which he introduced several incongruous words ; but when 
 he reached those lines, 
 
 " Cromwell, Cromwell 1 
 Had I but serv'd my God with half the zeal 
 I serv'd my king, he would not in mine age 
 Have left me naked to mine enemies," — 
 
 he gathered himself up with tremendous energy, as was his 
 wont, and almost on tip-toe, for one more triumph, gave them, 
 as far as " zeal," with all his usual grandeur and pathos ; but 
 after muttering a Avord or two more, he fell on the shoulder of 
 his Secretary, and the career of our hero was closed. 
 
 All through the scene he had been, at his own request, sup- 
 ported by Cromwell, and never let go for a moment his nervous 
 grasp of the Secretary's arm. He strained heroically against 
 illness to reach his usual great effect; but after the opening 
 burst, he entirely collapsed, and was almost carried off the stage 
 by Norman Forbes-Robertson, who was playing with him, as 
 he had done then for some time in place of his brother, the 
 character of Cromwell. The house shook with applause, but 
 
 * He had told me long before this that the character he should like best 
 to play when he took his farewell of the stage was that of Cardinal 
 Wolsey. Did he think, I wonder, when he was being borne helplessly off 
 by his young Secretary, Cromwell, that his farewell was already taken, and 
 his wish fulfilled ?— J. F. R.
 
 HIS LAST ILLNESS. 309 
 
 the audience little dreamed that the object of their adoration 
 was lying in his dressing-room almost unconscious, and that 
 they had seen their favourite for the last time. 
 
 He was unable to complete this engagement, a thorough 
 physical as well as mental prostration having set in, which laid 
 him on a sick bed for some weeks, and from which it was at first 
 feared he would never rise ; but he rallied, and got down-stairs 
 again. Change of air was prescribed, and an advertisement 
 appealing in the Standard, stating that desirable lodgings were 
 to be obtained at Anson's Farm, Coopersale, near Epping, Essex, 
 the house was inspected, and proved to be all that could be 
 desired. It was in the very heart of the country, and surrounded 
 with beautiful scenery. The lodgings were taken, and he was 
 there for some weeks. He came home almost, if not quite, him- 
 self again, but he promised the proprietor to return there for a 
 time during the autumn. One rather stormy day in the summer 
 he went from his house in the Camden Road to his favourite 
 spot — the highest part of Finsbury Park — for a walk, but on 
 returning he got caught in a tremendous downpour of rain, and 
 was drenched to the skin. This again gave him a cold, and 
 before he had thoroughly got over it, he went to pay a long- 
 promised visit to his friend, Mr. Waterlow, at Great Doods, 
 E-eigate, which did not do him the good that had been hoped 
 for. He was still indisposed when he came back, although 
 everything that heart could desire had been done there for his 
 comfort. 
 
 He now made terms with IVIr. Chatterton to play a limited 
 number of nights at Drury Lane Theatre before Christmas, and 
 a like number in the spring of 1879, and then to take his fare- 
 well of the stage at that house, which he had promised Mr. 
 Chatterton he would do some years before, if he was manager 
 when the time should arrive for his retirement. 
 
 Towards gaining further strength (as he thought) for this 
 purpose, and to keep faith with old Mrs. Smith, he again went 
 to Anson's farm for a few weeks, but from which he never 
 returned alive.* He caught a fresh cold there some time after 
 
 * The night before leaving home for Coopersale, and al'lrr my wile and 
 his daughters had left the room we had been sitting in all the evening for 
 another in which sujipcr was laid, he said to me, "Now I supiinse if I'm
 
 510 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 his arrival which began to worry him, because he foresaw the 
 possibility of its preventing him from keeping faith with Mr. 
 Chatterton and the pubhc (for of course he was advertised to 
 appear), and this so worked upon his brain at last that it brought 
 on another complete prostration and congestion, from which he 
 was only released by death.* He was attended at Coopersale 
 by a local surgeon and his assistant ; but his last medical attend- 
 ant, Dr. Delacour, of the Camden K,oad, and his nephew, Dr. 
 Phelps, of Highbury, occasionally went down to see him. Some 
 days before his death Sir William Jenner was called in to see 
 if he could suggest anything different from what had already 
 been done for him, but he only confirmed the treatment he 
 had been under. He passed away quietly and peacefully, in 
 the presence of his two daughters, and his young friend Mr. 
 Harry Plowman, at half-past three in the afternoon of 6th 
 November, 1878. 
 
 His remains were brought from Coopersale just before mid- 
 night of the 7th to his residence, 420, Camden Road ; and on 
 the loth they were interred in the same grave with the wife 
 whom he had loved so well, in the ujDper part of the cemetery 
 at High gate. 
 
 able to fulfil my engagement at Dniry Lane, I shall net by that and my fare- 
 well benefit so much." I replied, " You certainly ought to do that at least." 
 " Very well," he said, " what shall I have then to live on ? " for he knew 
 that I knew as well as himself what he had. I mentioned the sum more or 
 less. "Well," he said again, "what will that give me per annum if you 
 invest it in such securities as you consider safe?" "Well," I replied 
 again, " I think I can guarantee you so much " (naming the sum). He 
 pondered over it a minute or two, and said, " Well, if you have been able 
 to live, with yoir family, as you have, upon the income you have had the 
 last four or five years " (greatly reduced from what it had been for twenty 
 years previously), " we three ought to live very comfortably on the amount 
 you name, near some quiet trout-stream ; " and with that he said, " Let us 
 go down to the girls."— W. M. P. 
 
 * My wife has just reminded me that he was fond of going into the forest 
 for a walk with her and one of his daughters, and on one or two occasions, 
 just to try his voice, he began to declaim some of those beautiful lines of 
 the First Lord, Jaques, and others, from As You Like It. 
 
 The last coihversation I ever had with him myself was on the subject of 
 the stoppage of the Glasgow Bank, some three weeks before his death ; his 
 brain on that occasion was perfectly clear, and I certainly never dreamed 
 that his decease was so nigh at hand. — W. M. P.
 
 FUNERAL AT HIGHGATE CEMETERY. 311 
 
 His funeral was strictly private, as the family were sure such 
 would have been his wish if he had ever been consulted. No 
 members of the profession were invited, for the simple reason 
 that it would have been impossible to know where to leave off 
 if once commenced ; and a notice was inserted in the Times, 
 therefore, stating at what time the interment would take place. 
 Considering the dreary wet day it was, the concoiu'se of spec- 
 tators was enormous. His two old comrades, George Bennett, 
 then seventy- eight, and Henry Marston, then seventy-five, were 
 close to the grave ; but his old partner, who was only seventy- 
 two, and not over four-score, as has been stated, was not able to 
 be there, his health and the time of year not admitting of his 
 coming out of doors in such weather. 
 
 The number of floral tributes received at the house was very 
 large, not only did they fill his coffin, but they lay closely piled 
 on the outside to a depth of at least eighteen inches. The four 
 mourners in the first brougham carried a laurel wreath and a 
 wreath of camellias, and two very large crosses of the same 
 flower. The funeral corUgc left the house at 12.45 p.m.* 
 
 Five broughams followed the hearse, in the first of which sat 
 the Rev. Robert Phelps, D.D., Master of Sidney Sussex College, 
 Cambridge, his brother, two years younger than himself; W. 
 May Phelps (one of tlie writers of this volume), his eldest nephew, 
 whom he had treated as his eldest son for forty years ; Rev. 
 Robert Phelps Billing, Ph.D., and Mr. Edmund L. Phelps, 
 nephews, the latter his above-named brother's eldest son. 
 
 In the second were Lieut.-Colonel Goodair, son-in-law; Mr. 
 W. H. Goodair, junior, grandson ; and Dr. Phelps, nephew, son 
 of the Rev. Dr. Phelps. 
 
 Tn the third were Mr. Charles Turner Phelps (brother of W. 
 May Phelps), Mr. Harry Plowman, Mr. George H. Hay don, 
 barrister, and Mr. James Gurney, the two latter old and intimate 
 friends who accompanied him frequently on his fishing excursions, 
 more particularly the former, who Avas one of his executors. 
 
 * Our intention was to have hsifl one of the new open cars instead of 
 the ol(i-fasl)ioned'Iiearse, but somcliow or other tliis was not understood, 
 and he was taken to that "bourne from wliicli no Iravdlcr returns" in 
 one of the latter. Tlie funeral was conducted by Mr. George Bishop, of 
 Doctors' Commons. — W. M. P.
 
 312 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 lu the fourth were Mr. John Forbes-Robertson (coadjutor 
 with W. M. P. in this book), Mr. R. H. Wyndham, and Mr. E. 
 D. Davis, the two latter old lessees of the Theatres Royal, 
 Edinburo-h and Newcastle. 
 
 In the fifth were Mr. Thomas Couchman Phelps (eldest son 
 of W. May Phelps), Dr. Delacour, his medical attendant, and 
 Mr. Thomas Underwood, his dentist. 
 
 In his own private carriage was Mr. Waterlow, accompanied 
 by his friend, Mr. Latreille ; four other private carriages brought 
 up the rear of the procession. 
 
 The plate on the coffin bore the inscription : " Samuel 
 Phelps, born 13th February, 1804; died 6th November, 1878." 
 
 It was some time ere the cemetery was cleared of the car- 
 riages and joedestrians who had wended their way from all parts 
 to see the last of the mortal remains of the man whom they 
 had so frequently cheered by their presence during his lifetime, 
 and whom they had all looked upon as the foremost actor of 
 their day. 
 
 To those possessed of the quid mine type of mind his well- 
 spent life had a depressing and almost irritating monotony 
 in it, for which they never altogether forgave him ; but the 
 more earnest portion of the play-going world, who knew that 
 the stao^e contained other than mere Bohemian elements, and 
 that contamination came to it more from without than from 
 within, felt that, when Samuel Phelps died, England had lost 
 not only a great actor, but a good man.
 
 CRITICISMS IN THE " NOETH BEITOX." 313 
 
 The two following notices appeared in the North Briton, 
 an Edinburgh paper, dated 4th and 18th August, 1866 : — 
 
 Mr. Phelps. 
 
 " Mr. Plielps had a famous reception at the Princess's Theatre on 
 Wednesday night, the applause on his appearance lasting over ninety- 
 five seconds, a long time -for a hody of people to do notlung but clap 
 their hands and cry hurrah. Mr. Phelps deserved this great reception. 
 Had he never done anything but play Sir Pertinax, he would have 
 been famous, and tliat personation will live for ever ; but the British 
 public owe Mr. Phelps a deep debt of gratitude not only for Sir 
 Pertinax Macsycophant, but for the interest he has taken, and con- 
 tinues to take, in the upholding on the stage of a pure Shakespeare. 
 It is not too much to say of ]\Ir. Phelps's eiforts in this direction, that 
 he has done more for the legitimate drama than any other manager or 
 actor. There are other actors and managers who have contrived for 
 a brief time to look bulky in the eyes of the public, and who have 
 been largely praised by the newspapers, but none of them ever sus- 
 tained such a campaign as Mr. Phelps did at Sadler's Wells — nor had 
 any manager ever allotted to him the task winch Mr. Plielps got 
 through so creditably, of teaching a people with vitiated tastes to love 
 Shakespeare, and of transforming a minor theatre into one of the 
 purest temples of the English Drama." 
 
 " Hamlet at the Princess's Theatre. — We have seen so many 
 actors play Hamlet during the last twenty years that it would be 
 difficult for us to enumerate them, or to say which of the personations 
 pleased us most. Many of them were very good, some of them even 
 of excelling merit, and the very worst of all would have some pleasing 
 feature or telling point to make it acceptable to the public. In some 
 respects Hamlet is an easy character to acquit one's self in, the 
 language is so beautiful, the incidents so dramatic (we mean in the 
 highest sense of the word), that any tolerably graced man can go 
 through it. Before he can become a great player of Hamlet, an actor 
 usually has to run through three stages : he first appears and recites 
 the Avords, usually with more or less conceit, then he gets into the 
 mechanics of the part, and struts and attitudinizes with immense 
 industry, and after inventing two or three new postures, pronounces 
 himself perfect, and at once sets up as a ' great ' Hamlet. But if he 
 turn out a persevering artist with aspirations after perfection in the 
 histrionic art, he may attain to the third stage, and become a thought- 
 ful representative of the character, a])le to hide the mechanism, and. 
 imbue the part with the philosophy which belongs to its language, or 
 rather, so to speak, interpret the ])hil(>sophy by means of the language, 
 and confer also those graces of deiiortnient winch the Prince requires 
 without thinking very much about the ' attitudes.' And even after 
 undergoing this apprenticeship, the artist must not think his wurk
 
 314 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 finished ; for if he could practise for thirty years what it Avill take 
 him thirty years to learn, he would still be deficient in many of the 
 attributes of a perfect Hamlet. To be perfect in this character is for 
 an actor to be crowned with the glory of his art. But there are not 
 above three men in our time who have achieved this crown of the 
 tragic stage. Phelps is one of them, and we speak the bare truth in 
 saying that he is, without doubt, a giant in the part. To be frank 
 "with our readers, we must indorse the opinion of the Dublin critics, 
 and say that Mr. Phelps plays Hamlet as if he were inspired. The 
 beauty of his reading is something to remember ; but when to his 
 perfect elocution we add his grace of manner, his noble bearing, his 
 royal courtesy to those who surround him, and when we mention that 
 he understands what he reads and is able to make his auditors com- 
 prehend also, then we do not over-exact when we claim for Mr. 
 Phelps the merit of being one of the greatest Hamlets ever known on 
 the British Stage. There is not one of Shakespeare's characters that 
 has been the suljject of more controversy than Hamlet, and actors at 
 times, in running after novelty in reading and gesture, have been apt 
 to give contradictory views of his character ; but this is an error that 
 Mr. Phelps with scholarly judgment has avoided. His Hamlet is the 
 same all throughout the long play, no matter what he has on hand, 
 whether he is talking with the guards, encountering the Ghost, killing 
 Polonius, advising Ophelia, philosophizing with Horatio, rebuking his 
 mother, satirizing the King, apostrophizing the skull of Yorick, or 
 fencing with Laertes. It is indeed one of the merits of Mr. Phelps, 
 this striking consistency, which he keeps np throughout the action, 
 but which is so difficult to sustain. Of course he has long been perfect 
 in the art that hides art, but there are actors of intelligence and long 
 standing who fail altogether in the unity of their parts — men Avho 
 study points, and who, like serial tale writers, must have a few 
 brilliant things in each act, but who fail, like the novelist, when the 
 work falls to be criticised as a whole. Mr. Phelps gives us Hamlet 
 as a whole, with a manner and elocution perfect throiighout, as con- 
 sistent and perfect in the fifth act as in his opening s«ene where he 
 delivers that beautiful speech to his mother. It was Charles Lamb, 
 we think, who said that no actor would ever be found who could act 
 Hamlet perfectly. We suppose he was right, but we console ourselves 
 in thinking that Mr. Phelps is an actor as nearly perfect in this part 
 as we can ever hope to find any mere man." 
 
 The following appeared in the Observer of 21st October, 
 1866, on the production of Mr. Bayle Bernard's adaptation of 
 Faust at Drury Lane Theatre : — 
 
 Drury Lane Theatre. 
 
 " Faustus, whether he was printer, philosopher, or magician, whether 
 he was one person or two persons, or whether he never existed at all,
 
 THE "OBSERVER" ON FAUST. 315 
 
 a sceptical suggestion having obtained in some quarters that he was 
 merely a creation of mediasval fancy, has been a prolific subject for 
 literary treatment of one sort or another. Marlowe enshrined his 
 name amongst the heroes of old English drama, mixing up a good 
 deal of coarseness with some marvellonsly fine poetry ; Kich turned 
 Ins adventures into a pantomime ; Messrs. Terry and Soane brought 
 him out at Drury Lane in 1825 as the hero of a romantic drama, with 
 music by Bishop and Home ; he has been melodrama at Sadler's 
 Wells and burlesque at the Strand ; he has been subjected in Paris to 
 the skilful manipulation of M. Michel Carre, to be transplanted by 
 Mr. Kean to the Princess's, whilst the story of his operatic career with 
 Gounod's music is as familiar as the success of that popular opera is 
 unquestionable ; and besides this his name was made use of, though 
 not his story, by the librettist who wrote a book for Spohr to illustrate 
 with his genius. ' The greatest is behind ! ' Goethe seized upon the 
 floating legend, and converted it into a jihilosophical ])lay — into one 
 of tliose masterpieces which 'the world will not willingly let die,' and 
 Avhich, in spite of the declining influence of Germany upon European 
 literature, continues to be ranked amongst the grandest creations of 
 the human intellect, and worthy to be compared, as it often has been, 
 with Hamlet itself.. Of Goethe's play no dramatic version of the 
 legend hitherto produced in this country has conveyed even a fair 
 impression. The leading incidents have been made use of, Viut the 
 profound philosophy has been discarded. The thou(/Jit that infuses 
 every scene has been suffered to evaporate, and it is only in the closet 
 that the real merits of the play, in the poetical translations of Lord 
 L. Gower, Anster, Blackie, and Martin, with the prose version of Mr. 
 Hayward, not to forget the fragment by Shelley, could be appreciated 
 by the mere English reader. In Germany Faust has always been a 
 ' stock ' piece. Last night, however, an attempt was made to convey 
 to English ])lay-goers some notion of the great German drama. A 
 version by ]\Ir. Layle Bernard was brought out at Drury Lane with the 
 modest announcement that it is ' an adaptation in several of its chief 
 scenes of Goethe's romantic drama,' and its production was attended 
 with a success that shows how wrong it is to imagine that a miscel- 
 laneous public, such as must necessarily be found in a large theatre, 
 requires to be supplied for its amusement with sensational nonsense 
 and vulgar concessions to what is by some persons considered the low 
 taste of a mixed multitude. Every scene last night Mas listened to 
 "vvith the most profound attention, and even passages which might be 
 supposed to require more tlian ordinary attention to appreciate them 
 were in many instances followed by general applause. Mr. Bayle 
 liernard has done his work cleverly. Of course there are many parts 
 of tlie original, such as the ' Intermezzo,' and much of the philo- 
 sophical banter that has recomlite meaning, which must necessarily be 
 left out. Again, the mere question of length has to be considered ; 
 as it is written, Faust would require more than an evening for its 
 performance. Compression, therefore, becomes a necessity and a test
 
 316 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 of skill. Thus the first, third, and fourth scenes of Goethe are com- 
 pressed into one scene, whilst part of the dialogue in the scene ' hefore 
 the "ate ' is transferred to the scene of Auerbach's cellar. The best 
 way to give those acquainted with the original a notion of how it is 
 treated for the stage will be to enumerate the scenes of Mr. Bayle 
 Bernard's drama in the order in which they occur. There is first 
 Faust's study, in which the appearance of Mephistopheles and the 
 execution of the contract takes place, together with the dialogue with 
 the students, and the interpolated incident of Margaret's visionary 
 appearance to Faust. IN^ext comes the scene of Auerbach's cellar, the 
 action of which is transferred to the outside of the tavern, in the great 
 square of a German town, upon the banks of a canal or river. We 
 have then Margaret's bed-room, with the presentation of the jewels, 
 and the garden scene, with the alternated dialogues between Faust and 
 Margaret and Mephistopheles and' Martha, ending with a striking 
 tableau, in which Mephistopheles appears on the wall, watching Faust 
 and Margaret as they have just separated. This brings us to the 
 fourth act or part, which opens with the scene at the well. Then 
 comes the ascent of the Brocken, followed by the Walpurgis Night. 
 The fifth part opens with the cathedral scene, in which occur the 
 incidents of Mephistopheles whispering in Margaret's ear, and of 
 Valentine's death. The prison scene is given almost in its entirety, 
 and the drama ends with the conventional apotheosis of Margaret. It 
 will be seen that nearly all the incidents of Goethe's drama are thus 
 carefully made use of, whilst a very large portion of the actual dialogue 
 is retained, the interpolations being few and almost all actually neces- 
 sary. The language is forcible and pregnant with thought, and when- 
 ever passages are transposed from one part to another it is done with 
 discrimination. In short, the adapter has got over his difficulties, and 
 they cannot have been a few, with great ingenuity and judgment. 
 The scenery, by Mr. Beverley, is entirely new. There are three views 
 of old German towns painted in the truest spirit of mediseval pictur- 
 esqueness, and a scene in the last act, ' The City Walls,' which even 
 more than themore important and attractive ones shows in tone and 
 feeling the true artist. The construction and arrangement of the 
 Grand Place of the city, with its quaint houses and bridges, and the 
 dull, stagnant-looking canal, is an admirable piece of stage contrivance 
 and effective painting ; yet still more remarkable, and, perhaps, more 
 effective, is the mode in which Mr. Beverley has treated the Walpurgis 
 scene. Broad, vast masses of rock thrown carelessly about, as if by 
 some great convulsion of nature, meet the eye on every side, abrupt 
 and frowning, amongst which the witches hold their revels. Crowds 
 of wild figures in grotesque costumes rush about rather than dance at 
 the same time that the fine choruses of INIendelssohn are sung. Strange 
 changes of light lend a supernatural aspect to the action. Now every- 
 thing is seen under a lurid red glare ; now the light subsides into an 
 unearthly blue grey, under which every form and movement appears 
 almost terrible. The conclusion of this scene is remarkably striking.
 
 SHYLOCK AT THE GAIETY. 317 
 
 As the beautiful witch Sibyl beckons Faust to follow her across the 
 rocks at the back of the stage, Margaret rises in the centre in an 
 attitude of appealing despair, stretching her hands towards her lover, 
 and as the curtain falls the stage is hlled with the various groups of 
 witches and fiends thrown into the most picturesque combinations. 
 After this the concluding taUeau after Margaret's death, in which 
 there was no particular novelty, fell somewhat coldly upon the eye. 
 It remains only to mention that the dresses are correct, varied, and 
 gay, many of them evidently suggested by the drawings of Eetch ; and 
 that the music, which has been selected from the works of Spohr, 
 IMendelssohn, and AVeber, is well executed ; some of the choruses of 
 spirits are given with remarkable delicacy. The audience evidently 
 considered the whole performance as a great success, for they were 
 loud in their applause throughout, called several times for the principal 
 performers, especially distinguishing Mrs. Hermann Vezin, twice for 
 Mr. Beverley, and also twice for Mr. Chatterton, thus apparently 
 confirming the enthusiastic character that has been penned of Goethe's 
 Faust, that • it appeals to all minds with the irresistible fascination of 
 an eternal problem, and with the charm of endless variety. It has 
 every element — wit, pathos, wisdom, farce, mystery, melody, reverence, 
 doubt, magic, and irony ; not a chord of the lyre is unstrung, not a 
 fibre of the heart untouched.' " 
 
 The following appeared in a morning paper on his Shylock 
 in 1875 :— 
 
 Gaiety. 
 
 " There is a wide stride between Tottle's and The Merchant of Venice, 
 but the attendance here on Saturday afternoon showed that if Byron 
 and Toole can fill the house in the evening, there is still a place in 
 the hearts of Mr. Hollingshead's patrons for Shakespeare and Phelps 
 at least one time in seven. Shylock was presented by the eminent 
 artist, who, with all his delicate appreciation of the value of words 
 and all his fine mastery of the aids of the actor in illustrating them, 
 does not see the need of sacrificing healthiness to novelty, with 
 wonderful force and manliness. There will always be a doubt as to 
 whether the Ijitterly vindictive character of the hardly-used Jew 
 should be emphasized before or only after the flight of his daughter, 
 and until it is settled one will be content that it should be kept in 
 the background in the opening scenes. This is what Mr. l^helps did 
 on Saturday, and it gave more vigour to his subsequent action, the 
 tragedy of the discovery and its e})isodes contrasting splendidly with 
 the comedy, the irony, and distrust of the early passages. Moreover, 
 it gave the virulence of tin; ])ursuit of revenge a dramatic nmrm d'e/re 
 which is at least in accordajicc with our present feeling towards the 
 persecuted race. It would be a long task to go into the details of 
 this finished performance, which alike won the admiration of the public
 
 318 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 and of tlie professional element hj Avliich, as usual, it was supple- 
 mented ; but the passages with Salanio and Salarino, and with Tubal, 
 and the trial scene came out with triumphant vigour. The curt replies 
 to Gratiano, reflecting so much of the spirit of the tormentor, and the 
 lines beginning ' What judgment shall I dread, doing no wrong 1 ' 
 telling a whole creed, were especially fine. The final catastrophe 
 showed the Jew utterly overwhelmed. The words ' I am content ' 
 were barely audible, and the passage to the door was a long struggle 
 against bodily feebleness ; it was not loiid, but was very natural. 
 ]\Iiss Rose Leclerq was the Portia, a little tremulous from nervousness, 
 but sweet and womanly ; Mr. Forbes-Eobertson, the Antonio, well 
 read, but over melancholy-mild ; Mr. W. Belford, the Gratiano, brisk 
 and in tone ; and Mr. Charles Harcourt, the Bassanio, emphatic, 
 though perhaps a little more than necessarily rhytlimical. The 
 Launcelot and Gobbo of Messrs. Leigh and Cooper were creditable, 
 and the same may be said of the JS'erissa of Miss West. Miss 
 Hazle ton's Jessica was pretty and intelligent." 
 
 The following from the pen of Mr. Dutton Cook appeared 
 in The World of 29th March, 1876 :— 
 
 Mr. Phelps. 
 
 " Within the last few weeks Mr. Phelps has been impersonating 
 such widely different characters as Wolsey and Malvolio, Sir Peter 
 Teazle and the Stranger, Shylock and Lord Ogleby ; giving abundant 
 proof, indeed, that as an actor of force and variety he is still without 
 a rival in the English theatre. IS'evertheless, he appears but inter- 
 mittently upon the scene. From time to time he treads the Crystal 
 Palace stage, and on Saturday mornings he may usually be found 
 engaged at the Gaiety Theatre ; but he has ceased to be a permanent 
 member of any London troop ; he is not, for the present at any rate, 
 concerned in any nightly representation. This may result from Mr. 
 Phelps's free choice in the matter, or may be traceable to the fact that 
 the altered condition of our stage denies him the opportunities he was 
 wont to enjoy. In any case there is legitimate reason for regret that 
 the play-goers of to-day should be permitted but interrupted and 
 infrequent study of the art of a very sterling actor. Mr. Phelps must 
 now be ranked among the veterans of his profession. Little decline 
 is to be noted in the energy and pungency which have always 
 characterized his histrionic method, and in certain of his characters 
 he is still to be seen to very capital advantage ; but his early career 
 dates from what now seems to be a very bygone period of dramatic 
 history. He first appeared in London forty years since, having 
 already acquired a fair measure of fame as a provincial tragedian. He 
 was intrusted with a distinguished position during Macready's occu- 
 pation of Covent Garden and Drury Lane. He was in some sort his
 
 BUTTON COOK'S CRITICISM. 319 
 
 manager's lieutenant. He played Jaffier to Macready's Pierre, lago to 
 his Othello and Othello to his lago, Macduff to his ]\Iacbeth, Gabor to 
 his AVerner, Joseph to his lliehelieu, Adam to his Jaqucs, and so on. 
 In 184-i — the patent theatres having been deprived of the exclusive 
 privileges they had long enjoyed and abused — My. Phelps undertook 
 the management of Sadler's Wells, assisted by Mrs. Warner, an 
 accomplished actress of tragedy. The little theatre in Clerkenwell, 
 long devoted to pantomimic feats and coarse melodrama — of which 
 the ' real water ' of the neighbouring New Eiver formed an important 
 constituent — became now the a|)pointed home of the poetic drama. 
 He so educated his actors that they appeared even with distinction in 
 works of the highest class. He was at once a liberal and a tasteful 
 stage-manager. As an antiquarian illustrator of Shakespearean revivals 
 he preceded Mr. Charles Kean by some years. In the course of his 
 tenancy of Sadler's Wells, extending over some sixteen years, he 
 produced every play of Shakespeare's, excepting only Troilus and 
 Cressida, Titus Andronicus, and the three parts of Henry VI. ; he 
 even ventured upon the performance of Timon of Athens, Love's 
 Labour's Lost, Pericles, and Eichard III. from the original text, di 
 
 O"^'" "^-^"} 
 
 s- 
 
 pensing with the corruptions of Gibber. And other obsolete works 
 underwent reproduction during his management : The Gity Madam 
 and Fatal Dowry of Massinger ; A King and No King, The Maid's 
 Tragedy, and The Honest Man's Fortune of Beaumont and Fletcher ; 
 and The Duchess of INIalfi of Webster. Nor were modern dramatists 
 wholly neglected in this zeal for the Elizabethan repertory ; from time 
 to time were presented various new plays — always in blank verse, 
 however — such as The Priest's Daughter, The Florentines, The King's 
 Friend, Judge Jeffries, Feudal Times, John Savile of Haysted, 
 Gar6ia, Hamilton of Bothwellhaugh, The Fool's Revenge, &c. If 
 these productions for the most part efiected no enduring impression, it 
 must be remembered that no better works were at the time forth- 
 coming or within the manager's reach. That Mr. Phelps did not lack 
 enterprise in this respect is demonstrated by the fact of his negotiation 
 for a new and hitherto unpublished drama by the late Lord Lytton, 
 then Sir Edward Lytton Lulwer. But the author, through his friend 
 and agent the late j\Ir. Forster, stipulated both for a high price and 
 anonymousness — antagonistic conditions which necessarily prevented 
 all adjustment of the transaction.* 
 
 " f As an actor of tragedy Mr. Phelps has assuredly been largely 
 influenced by the example of Macready. It must be understood, 
 however, that he has occupied a less exalted position : that, though 
 invariably vigorous, intelligent, capable of very passionate delivery, 
 and oftentimes exhibiting special command over pathetic expression, 
 he has possessed less subtlety than the departed tragedian, has never 
 
 * This is altogether a mistake on the part of Mr. Diitton Cook ; see pp. 7 ami 
 8.— W. M. P. 
 
 t See my references to this entire paragraph on pp. 3, 4, 5, and 13. — "W. M. P.
 
 320 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 risen to the height of his nohler impulses, or those supreme outbursts 
 of emotion with which he could upon occasion electrify and excite 
 his audience in an extraordinary degree. Something of Macready's 
 angularity of pose and action, with an inclination towards' his rapid 
 transitions of tone, is to be discerned in Mr. Phelps's system of per- 
 formance ; but his voice has less music, volume, and compass, if it is 
 accompanied by fewer guttural or nasal murmurings and hesitations, 
 than marked and rendered memorable his exemplar's mode of speech. 
 But there is true fervour in Mr. Phelps's declamation, however it be 
 now and then impaired by an undue deliberateness of utterance. Mr. 
 Henry Morley, in his Journal of a London Play-Goer, would ascribe 
 this slow pace of speech to the actor's many years' performance before 
 a rude audience, whose inert minds it was necessary to impress by 
 careful insistence upon almost every syllable of the text to be delivered, 
 and, in consideration of its origin, counts the defect as like that of a 
 scar won in honourable war. But in truth the mannerism is of an 
 older date, and was handed down to Mr. Phelps by Macready, inherit- 
 ing it probably from John Kemble, whose ' constitutional asthma,' as 
 Macready himself describes the case, ' necessitated a prolonged and 
 laborious indraught of his breath, and obliged him, for the sake of 
 distinctness, to adopt an elaborate mode of utterance, enunciating 
 every letter in every word.' On the whole, Mr. Phelps's best successes 
 must not be looked for in the field of tragedy. Certain physical graces, 
 distinction of manner and gallantry of presence, have been lacking 
 in his representation of the heroes of poetry ; nor could deficiency 
 of this kind be completely met by the display of nervous energy, a 
 restless ardour, and a sort of rugged chivalry of bearing peculiar to 
 the actor. 
 
 " But in comedy Mr. Phelps takes higher rank than Macready, 
 who, indeed, confined his efforts of this class to some few characters, 
 wherein demand was made for humour of a polished and sophisticated 
 sort, rather than for any measure of frank drollery. In addition, 
 however, to such parts as Lord Townley and Mr. Oakley, Mr. Phelps 
 has obtained genuiue applause as Lord Ogleby, Sir Peter Teazle, Dr. 
 Cantwell, and Sir Anthony Absolute. Since the demise of Farren, 
 indeed, the characters for which he was so exceptionally famous have 
 been presented by no one so admirably as by Mr. Phelps. Furtlier, 
 his command of the Scottish dialect has enabled him to portray most 
 successfully the Baillie Nicol Jarvie of Rob Roy and the hero of 
 Macklin's Man of the World ; as Sir Pertinax Macsycophant Mr. 
 Phelps has been from first to last wholly without a competitor. iS^o 
 doubt it is in comedy of an intellectual and somewhat caustic quality 
 that he is seen at his best ; his Falstaff , for instance, may be found 
 wanting in joviality and natural unction, although every speech is not 
 only appreciated by the performer, but so delivered as to tell with 
 incisive force upon the audience. There is even danger of his 
 oppressing them by the laboured intensity he imparts to every locution 
 of the character ; laut, all the same, comicality of a special kind is not
 
 THE DEATH OF MRS. PHELPS. 321 
 
 absent from the representation. If the words are dwelt upon indi- 
 vidually, as nails are hammered in separately, there is no question 
 about their being driven home. And in estimating the merits of an 
 actor, versatility must be fully taken into account. Mr. Phelps has 
 not only played many parts, but in all of them he has attained a 
 certain standard of worthiness, while in some he has pre-eminently 
 distinguished himself. He has fairly satisfied his audience in the 
 leading Shakespearean characters — he has been the Hamlet, the 
 Macbeth, the Othello of the theatre, gaining great applause by his 
 exertions ; and nevertheless he has prospered in such peculiar parts as 
 Bottom the Weaver, IMalvolio, and Don Armado. He has imperson- 
 ated both Henry IV. and Justice Shallow, Falstaff and Hotspur, Friar 
 Lawrence and Mercutio, Petruchio and Christopher Sly, Timon, 
 Antony, Brutus, and Parolles. In truth it may be questioned whether 
 in all theatrical history account can be found of any other actor in 
 possession of a repertory at once so extensive, so elevated, and so 
 diversified. And this is not merely a case of flying at all game : in 
 almost every instance the mark has been fairly hit, the quarry seized 
 and secured." 
 
 The following appeared in the Islington Gazette of Tuesday 
 23rd July, 1867, on Mrs. Phelps's death :— 
 
 " ' Died, July 17th, at 8, Canonbury Square, Islington, Sarah, wife 
 of Samuel Phelps.' Such are the brief terms of an announcement 
 which will carry far and wide over England a heavy private grief 
 which has fallen upon a great artist and an estimable man. It is 
 with no desire to intrude i;pon his desolation that we pen these lines. 
 A word of sympathy may be offered without officiousness, upon so 
 melancholy an occasion, to one whose artistic fame is world-wide, but 
 Avhose domestic virtues can hardly have been known very far from 
 the home which is now shaded by the wings of the Angel of Death. 
 During a public life of many years, spent on the noblest and most 
 arduous heights of one of the most intellectual of the arts, Mr. 
 Pheljis, so long our neighbour, and for a considerable period a valued 
 benefactor to the most intelligent people of this neighbourhood, 
 was cheered and soothed by the atlbction of the wife whom he has 
 now lost ; and during the whole of that period their devotion to each 
 other has been one of the sweetest testimonies ever borne to the 
 compatibility of a theatrical life with aU the viitues that can adorn, 
 all the purity that can hallow, all the felicity that can crown an 
 honourable career. Writing in the name of a district too little 
 sensible of the charms of the art to which Mr. Phelps has so sedulously 
 and with such brilliant results diwoted himself, we can assure him 
 and his that while the news of their bereavement will carry sadness 
 amongst many who know nothing of their private life, it will also 
 thrill a tender chord in many who have the vaguest appreciation of 
 theatrical fame.
 
 322 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 " All can do honour to a well-spent life, and mourn over the rupture 
 by death of domestic affection, which nothing else could have broken 
 in upon." 
 
 On the 27th November, 1869, the Manchester paper, the 
 Sphinx, had the following criticism on his performance of 
 Othello: — 
 
 " IS'otwithstanding Charles Lamb's dictum that Othello is unsuitable 
 for representation, and his opinion of the improbability of Desdemona's 
 falling in love with the Moor on account of his complexion (an 
 unusually cynical remark for the gentle Elia to make), the tragedy 
 continues to be one of the most absorbing and effective on the stage, 
 even when only moderately acted in some of the principal parts. The 
 story is so thrilling in interest, so teeming with human passion, so 
 abounding in pathos, set forth and illustrated with such exquisite 
 poetry, that the attention of the audience is riveted from beginning 
 to end. 
 
 " Our criticism last week of Mr. Phelps in the character of Sir 
 Pertinax Macsycophant relieves us of the duty of further analyzing 
 his general style of acting. On Saturday last, in Othello, the same 
 keen insight into character, the same accuracy of conception, and 
 facility of execution, the same evidence of close study, accompanied 
 by spontaneous action during the progress of the play, were as distin- 
 guishable as they were in the former unique and remarkable imper- 
 sonation. Mr. Phelps's conception of the character of Othello is, for 
 the most part, the traditional one adopted by our greatest actors, 
 marked by certain peculiarities of his own, but unaccompanied by 
 any straining after novel readings. In the first two acts he represents 
 Othello calm, tranquil, and imbued with a sense of modest self-respect. 
 1'his is in strict accordance with the text, and is mirrored in the lines — 
 
 ' My soul hath her content so absolute, 
 That not another comfort like to this 
 Succeeds in unknown fate. ' 
 
 " Until nearly the close of the second act, Othello gives no intimation 
 of his fiery nature. The first revelation of his temperament previous 
 to his giving ear to lago's diabolical insinuations, is his conduct in the 
 scene after the midnight brawl, when he reiterates his demand, ' Who 
 began it ? ' 
 
 ' By heaven, 
 My blood begins my safer guides to rule ; 
 And passion, having my best judgment collied, 
 Assays to lead the way.' 
 
 With the exception of this passage, in which Mr. Phelps gave the 
 audience a foretaste of what was coming, he performed the first two 
 acts with a quiet, dignified repose of manner, which, although in 
 perfect harmony with the text, showed great conscientiousness and
 
 THE MANCHESTER "SPHINX" ON OTHELLO. 323 
 
 self-control. Nothing could be more picturesque than his entrance 
 in the second scene of the play. About his martial bearing and 
 address, there was a certain barbaric dignity and pomp, appropriate 
 to the character of the Moorish general. His manly affection for and 
 pride in Desdemona were characteristic of the soldier bridegroom, 
 whose ' arms since they liad seven years' pith, till now some nine 
 moons wasted, had used their dearest action in the tented field.' Mr. 
 Phelps has always been remarkable for the possession of much, pathetic 
 power, and although his voice is not so flexible as it once was, it is 
 still clear and resonant. For rugged pathos he has always been 
 unrivalled among his peers, and his address to the Senate, without the 
 slightest attempt at any ostentatious and elocutionary display, was 
 remarkable for this quality, and made its way at once to the sympathies 
 of his audience. It is not until the third act that we gain an insight 
 into the turbulent fire lying dormant in Othello's breast, which after- 
 wards burst into the raging flame which consumed him. 
 
 " The tremendous excitement of the third and fourth acts comes 
 like a thunderstorm after the calmness of the first two. The well- 
 graced actor's powers are tried to the uttermost, and wonderfully 
 does Mr. Phelps come through the ordeal. The various passions and 
 emotions — doubt, suspicion, love and tenderness, jealousy, hatred, 
 fury, and self-abasement — which convulse the distraught and ' per- 
 plex'd ' Othello are powerfully depicted, and have an electric effect 
 upon the audience. This was so startling on Saturday night that, 
 after some of the most thrilling passages, even the gods forgot to 
 applaud — about the highest compliment which could be paid to the 
 actor, and worth lifty recalls. Whether in listening to the hints and 
 insinuations of lago, or in giving way to the wildest bursts of rage, 
 Mr. Phelps's action, attitudes, and gestures are in keeping with both. 
 When lago first hints a doubt and hesitates a dislike at the interview 
 between Cassio and Desdemona, his inditference of manner is well 
 assumed. When the insidious poison begins to work, and his 
 suspicions are aroused, he starts as if stung by a serpent, and lago's 
 caution to beware of jealousy ])roduces in him a mingled exhibition 
 of rage and fear of himself which convulses his whole frame. When 
 he tells lago to set on his wife to watch, the accompanying look of 
 disgust and self-humiliation at his suggestion of the espionage is very 
 finely conceived ; and, in perfect keeping, the same feelings are shown 
 subsequently, when he contemptuously throws down the pui'se at 
 Emilia's feet, exclaiming — 
 
 ' We have done our course ; there's money for your pains ; 
 I pray you tuin the key, and keej) our counsel.' 
 
 " In the third and fourth acts the excitement cidminates, and the 
 consummation of tlie tragedy is antici})ate(l. As a calm must follow 
 all storms, so Othello's sobbing breast, his sliakiug frame, and frenzied 
 rage are succeeded by a calm, and his demeanour in the iifth act, 
 
 Y 2
 
 324 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 until the moment when he slays Desdemona, is solemn and depressed. 
 Deluding himself with the idea, * It is the cause, my soul, it is the 
 cause ! ' and that her murder partakes of the nature of a sacrifice, 
 "while he shrinks to ' shed her blood, or scar that whiter skin of hers 
 than snow,' he never departs for an instant from his fell purpose. In 
 this arduous scene ]\Ir. Phelps's acting was subdued and in perfect 
 good taste. His attitude and look when he emerges from the recess, 
 when disturbed by the knocking, were startling and suggestive. 
 Finally, when the truth is elicited, and he realizes the full horror of 
 the situation — of the trick which has been played upon him, and the 
 awful consequences — his burst of rage, despau*, and remorse is appalling. 
 
 * Whip me, ye devils, 
 From the possession of this heavenly sight ! 
 Blow me about in winds ! roast me in sulphur ! 
 Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire ! — 
 Desdemona ! Desdemona ! dead.' 
 
 Tbe words were delivered by Mr. Phelps with an energy of speech 
 and action, and a concentrated intensity, which were absolutely 
 overwhelming. 
 
 " On Tuesday Mr. Phelps and ]\Ir. Calvert changed characters. 
 Alternating parts is always a hazardous experiment, and, we believe, 
 much disliked by actors. We don't wonder at it, and on one occasion 
 we recollect seeing Macbeth and Macduff becoming so confused, that 
 they kept calling each other by the wrong names, — ' Lay on, 
 Macbeth,' and so forth. In so far, however, as it gave a Manchester 
 avidience the opportunity of witnessing Mr. Phelps as lago, we are 
 grateful for the arrangement. If anything were wanting to show 
 Mr. Phelps's versatility, this impersonation would prove it. He 
 completely shed the husk of Othello, and was the cunning, quick- 
 witted Italian, with an outward show of honesty, to the life. Ever 
 watching, ever scheming, whether he was wheedling, cozening, and 
 befooling Eoderigo, ' ensnaring ' Cassio, tempting Othello, or making 
 * the net that should enmesh them all,' this sharp-witted, ' super- 
 subtle Venetian ' stood before us, the incarnation of malignity. Mr. 
 Phelps's by-play and naturalness in this character are remarkable. 
 Most actors deliver lago's asides in a loud voice, and to the audience. 
 Mr. Phelps repeats them quietly and rapidly to himself. As an 
 instance — 
 
 ' 0, you are weU tun'd now ! 
 But I'll set down the pegs that make this music, 
 As honest as I am. ' 
 
 His mock humility was wonderfully displayed. Sometimes he looked 
 like a transfigured L^riah Heep, sometimes like a gay young gallant, 
 
 and sometimes like the . His final exit was equal to any other 
 
 feature of the performance. Glancing round with one look of in- 
 effiible scorn, he reared himself erect and strode out of the room, 
 defiant to the last."
 
 THE "FREE LANCE" ON OTHELLO. 325 
 
 The Mauchester Free Lance, of tlie same date had the followinsf 
 
 criticism : — 
 
 The Moor. 
 
 " It was not our mtention, when last week we alkided to Sir 
 Pertinax Macsycophant, to recur to the performances of Mr. Phelps at 
 the Prince's Theatre. 
 
 " His representation of the character of Othello is, however, so un- 
 expectedly forcible and graphic, that it would be unfair to our readers 
 to pass it over entirely without notice. This statement is made m the 
 full recollection of what Mr. Pheli)s was at Sadler's Wells Theatre 
 many years ago — of his talents, his industry, and his success. Since 
 those days he has wonderfidly improved where improvement seemed 
 scarcely possible, and it seems probable that, if he keeps to the stage 
 ten years longer, further progress in his art will have to be noted. 
 
 " The individuality of Mr. Phelps's Othello is to be sought in its 
 contrasts. These are never violent, but they are strongly marked. 
 As Mr. Phelps interprets Othello's character, he had within two 
 distinct natures — one of doting fondness, the other of passionate hate, 
 each running in its own channel, never meeting, never clashing, until 
 the suspicions engendered by the villainy of lago led to a mortal 
 struggle for the mastery. 
 
 " The loving part of the Moor's character is expressed with extra- 
 ordinary fidelity and truth to nature in his interviews with Desdemona. 
 His fondness for his youthful wife is an infatuation — a delightful 
 trance from which he fears to waken. So rapt is he in his devotion, 
 that he can express himself only in the words — 
 
 ' If it were now to die, 
 'Twere now to be most happy ' — 
 
 and the wonderful meaning which Mr. Phelps imparts to this expres- 
 sion of rapturous content must be heard to be appreciated. 
 
 " On a recollection of the play as presented at the Prince's, one 
 almost fails to remember the transition phase from this ecstatic state 
 of love to the demoniacal hate which sulxsequently sup])lants it, and 
 fills the bosom of Othello with a horrid thirst for the blood of his 
 wife. Yet the transition is made l)y the nicest degrees, and after 
 perplexity, doubt, and struggles against conviction. The truth is, that 
 the overwhelming strength of the hatred which Othello conceives for 
 the object of his former passion is so terrible as to force the contrast 
 indeliljly upon the memory, whUe the downward steps which lead to 
 it are lost sight of. How the rage, the torment, the desjjair that lill 
 the bosom of the Moor find expression in si^eech, gesture, and feature, 
 cannot be described in j)rinter's ink. Tlicy wlio remember wliat i\lr. 
 Macready teas, can best comi)rehend what Mr. l*l)elps is. He abaudons 
 hinjself to the character. ]''or tlie time he is Ollidlo himself — in his
 
 326 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 love, in his aversion, in his revenge, in his remorse. Gladly do we 
 echo the recommendation that every resident of Manchester who has 
 not seen ]\Ir. Phelps in this character should hasten to do so Avhile 
 the opportunity lasts. And while upon this jDoint, it scarcely needs 
 hintmg to the management that the next engagement of Mr. Phelps 
 should he of greater length than the present. It pays, it instructs the 
 people, it elevates the stage." 
 
 The Manchester Examiner and Times of 19th September, 
 1873, in noticing Mr. Calvert's production of Twelfth Night 
 at the Prince's Theatre, says of Mr. Phelps's performance of 
 Mai vol io : — 
 
 " In returning to the consideration of the acting itself, the Malvolio 
 of Mr. Phelps naturaDy claims the first notice. It is scarcely possible 
 to speak too highly of this masterpiece of genuine comedy — an im- 
 personation carefully and profoundly studied, consistent in all its 
 details, and wonderfully in harmony with the true rendering of the 
 author. We have seen more courtly, and perhaps more mirth-provok- 
 ing Malvolios, but certainly not one which so thoroughly satisfies the 
 most exacting demands of art. The key-note of Mr. Phelps's concep- 
 tion is found in a passage of one of Ohvia's reproofs — 
 
 ' 0, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, 
 And taste with a distempered appetite.' 
 
 We have, indeed, the embodiment of a narroAv-minded man, utterly 
 devoid of imagination, without a spark of humour, and puffed up by 
 unbounded self-conceit. Because his vision is so narrow, it is perfectly 
 easy to victimize him ; and his constitutional inability to comprehend 
 the cloAvn's subtle humour, and the hearty fun of Maria, at once excite 
 their disgust and make him their easy butt. Like all narrow-minded 
 creatures, he is prone to suspect, and jealous of anybody else's influence 
 in his own concerns ; but his exalted sense of his own importance 
 renders him liable to be tricked by any one who will flatter him. 
 Mr. Phelps carries out this idea of the character with unfailing con- 
 sistency ; every movement and gesture, every glance and expression, 
 eloquently indicate outrageous self-conceit and innate pomposity. He 
 will barely condescend to speak to his fellow-servants before the vision 
 of his future greatness dawns on him; and from the moment he begins 
 to picture himself as the future Count ]\Ialvolio, condescension is 
 converted into contempt, and the assumption of a noble manner 
 heij^htens the ludicrousness of his heroic swagger. The actor's com- 
 plete identification with his assumed character is one of the most 
 noteworthy features of Mr. Phelps's performance : he is apparently 
 unconscious of the audience ; he never attempts to make a point, and 
 never interferes with the subjective humour of the character by seeking 
 to make it objectively comical. AYe have heard a much less mechanical
 
 THE "MANCHESTER COURIER" ON HENRY IV. 327 
 
 reading of tlie letter, and a more pointed repetition of the telling 
 phrases and seritenees in the interview with Olivia ; bnt Mr. Phelps 
 is certainly correct in making Malvolio less demonstrative, and less 
 directly ridiculous than we sometimes see. We might call attention 
 to many other excellent points in this artistic impersonation : the 
 soliloquies are delivered in a manner which might be advantageously 
 imitated by the members of the company, and the by-play is invariably 
 judicious ; but no greater display of histrionic talent is seen than in the 
 last scene, Avhere Malvolio is at last convinced that he has been made 
 a fool of. The imprisonment had not opened his eyes to the trick, 
 and he had looked forward to a triumphant revenge ; but when, from 
 his lady's own lips, he hears how utterly baseless his hopes have been, 
 despair almost overpowers him — almost, but not quite, for his sense of 
 self-importance comes to aid him even then ; there is something almost 
 pathetic in the struggle between his dignity aad his bitter anguish, 
 and what is too deep for words the actor's face most eloquently 
 portrays. And here, too, success is achieved without the slightest 
 exaggeration ; and excessive display of rage would not only have been 
 inconsistent with JVIalvolio's character, but would have bordered on 
 burlesque. As Mv. Phelps acts the part, the valedictory threat is just 
 as appropriate as are the farewell words of Shylock after his degrada- 
 tion at the trial scene." 
 
 The Manchester Courier, 'speaking of his performance of 
 Henry IV. and Justice Shallow, in the Second Part of King 
 Henry IV., on 30th September, 1874, Avlien the play was 
 produced by Mr. Calvert at the Prince's Theatre, Manchester, 
 said : — 
 
 "We are now at liberty to turn to the actual performance of the 
 play, and we have no hesitation in saying that Mr. Phelps has never 
 been seen to better advantage, either in comedy as Justice Shallow, 
 or in tragedy as King Henry IV. Anything more intrinsically comic 
 than the braggadocio of the garrulous Justice it is impossible to con- 
 ceive. Mr. Phelps has seized the character almost intuitively, and 
 exhibits the vanity, fussiiiess, and senility of the country squire 
 with a force that can scarcely be equalled. But it is in the Jerusalem 
 Chamber, as the dying King, that Mr. Phelps is seen in one of the 
 best — proTjably the best — of his many successful impersonations. 
 The King, sinking beneath the consequences of eai-ly hanlshi[)s and 
 late excesses, is seen a dying man at the comparatively early age of 
 forty-six. No less a patriot than a soldier, he contemplates with 
 anxiety the fate of his country when it shall be swayed by the 
 sceptre of a [)rince who has shown himself hitherto nothing but a 
 frivolous and rakish companion of swash-bucklers .and the lewd 
 courtesans of the city. The gradually failing vision is obscured by 
 tears as he mourns the excesses of liis heir, and as he recurs by lils
 
 328 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 and starts to the crooked courses whereby he gained the crown. His 
 famous soliloquy on Sleep — one of the finest poems" that ever was 
 expressed in language — is mournfully uttered, and the words drop 
 from his mouth in tremulous accents, as affecting as they are in 
 contrast with the magniticent ' appliances and means to boot ' by 
 which he is surrounded. Not less touching is his reconciliation 
 with his son ; and it is here that Mr. Phelps makes a ' point ' which 
 none but the truest artist would have discovered. It occurs in the 
 line, ' Come hither, Harry, sit thou by my bed.' The broken emphasis 
 with which he articulates the single word ' Harry ' conveys whole 
 volumes of pathos, and speaks an affectionate reconciliation which a 
 careful culling of all the words of endearment in an entire lancruase 
 could not equal. We are mistaken if any actor of the past half 
 century has approached Mr. Phelps in this most impressive situation." 
 
 The Manchester Guardian of 6th March, 1877, said : — 
 
 Prince's Theatre. 
 
 " The long reign of pantomime is over, and we chronicle to-day with 
 undisguised pleasure the re-opening of the Manchester stage to the 
 legitimate drama. The season could not have been more appropriately 
 inaugurated than by the first of a series of performances in which Mr. 
 Phelps proposes to take his farewell of the stage. The only matter 
 of regret in connection with Mr. Phelps's last engagement in Man- 
 chester (though at the farewells of eminent theatrical stars, as at lovers' 
 perjuries, they say Jove laughs) is, that the round of characters in 
 which he is announced to appear should be so limited. 
 
 " In the meantime, we are thankful that he has selected as the opening 
 of his present engagement his fine impersonation of Cardinal Wolsey. 
 The play of Henry VIII. is rarely presented on the stage, for reasons 
 which Monday night's performance, miserably inadequate in many 
 particulars, enable us to appreciate. But the part of Wolsey is one 
 which the dramatic student will not willingly let die, and that cannot 
 perish so long, at least, as there are great actors, or to speak with more 
 precision, actors of legitimate ambition, left to the stage. We cannot 
 say, and we regret it, that the performance generally was worthy of 
 the play or the house. In the impersonations of the King, and of 
 Buckingham, the mischievous, we had almost said demoralizing, 
 influence of Irving was conspicuous. The minor parts, with one or 
 two exceptions worthy of mention, were marred by the laxity induced 
 by the long course of extravagant burlesque, in which those who bore 
 them have been steeped. But to Phelps's Cardinal Wolsey we turn, 
 as might a wayfarer tossed about with every wind of dramatic doctrine, 
 to lay fast hold upon the permanent, unshaken rock of faith. Here 
 there is true acting — the mirror held up to nature, — a living human 
 being, swept by true if stormy impulses, for whom all that is said
 
 THE "MANCHESTER GUARDIAN" ON WOLSEY. 329 
 
 and done in his presence lias a true and close interest, a sensitive 
 instrument that responds to every touch, powerfiil or delicate, with 
 appropriate note. It is difficult, writmg under the spell of the grand 
 closing scene, — the exhibition of Wolsey greatest in his fall, — to throw 
 the mind hack upon the effect of the earlier passages ; upon the details 
 of delicate by-play through which the overweening pride of Wolsey, 
 the craftiness, the self-deception, the coquetting with conscience, the 
 avarice, the diplomacy, the overreaching ambition of the arch-plotter 
 are betrayed. All these traits in the character of the wily priest- 
 diplomat, who presumed to make popes and kings his playthings, and 
 the honour and happiness of virtuous women his pawns, were, it is 
 needless to say, faultlessly depicted. But we can only think of the 
 third act — of AVolsey's fall — the farewell to his greatness, the noble 
 dignity of his rebuke of Surrey and the Lords who sought to humble 
 him, the luminous, self-searching revelation of himself and his estimate 
 of the grand possibilities he has missed in his interview with Cromwell. 
 If ever the moralizings of a clear, master intellect, which has debated 
 with itself the question, ' What shall a man profit if he gain the 
 whole world and lose his own soul 1 ' — nay, who has played and lost, 
 and feels his loss — can be visibly portrayed before his fellow-men, it is 
 in Phelps's representation of Wolsey's famous soliloquy. At its close 
 it rises into absolute grandeur. Even the pathos of the confession — 
 
 ' Oh, Cromwell, Cromwell, 
 Had I but served my God with half the zeal 
 I served my kiiiir, he would not in mine age 
 Have left me naked to mine enemies ' — 
 
 is forgotten in the presence of the almost prophetic inspiration which 
 fills the old tottering human wreck that utters it. It seems as if 
 behind the actor and the personage an outer impidse possessed the 
 worn-out frame, and sjieaking by his lips pronounced the condemna- 
 tion of a life-work misapplied." 
 
 The Manchester Examiner and Times wrote of him on 7th 
 March, 1877, as follows : — , 
 
 PPJNCE'S TIIEATEE. 
 MR. PHELPS'S FAREWELL PERFORMANCES. 
 
 Henry VIII. 
 
 " Nothing could have tempered the regret Avith which all lovers of 
 the national drama have heard of ]\Ir. Phelps's intended retirement 
 from the stage except the announcement that, by a series of farewell 
 p'rformances, he would at once refresh his admirers' remembrance of 
 his most successful efforts, and enable even tlie youngest generation 
 of play-goers to acquire reminiscences on whicli, in the course of years, 
 it will be a pleasure'and a pride for them to dwell. How the number
 
 330 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 is diminishing even of those who remember Mr. Phelps's distinguished 
 co-mate, Mr. Macready, in the days preceding his self-imposed exile 
 from the stage! Even Mr. Charles Kean, who shared with Mr. 
 Phelps an ardent devotion to Shakespeare which will always be remem- 
 bered in honour, has become a mere name to many. And Miss Helen 
 Faucit, associated with Mr. Phelps in so many a joint effort of true 
 
 art, has said : 
 
 ' I wish you well, and so I tak,e my leave, ' 
 
 and long before this had ceased, except occasionally, to irradiate a 
 scene on which she has left no successor. And now Mr. Phelps, too, 
 is bethinking himself of a repose which no one has better earned than 
 he, and is paying Manchester the compliment of beginning his series 
 of farewell performances at our Prince's Theatre. Though we would 
 fain hope that for once he might be better than his word, and, like 
 one or two actors of note before him, retire to return, we fear it would 
 be futile to indulge in any such fond speculation, and trust that, since 
 this is to be a farewell, it will meet both here at Manchester and else- 
 where with the cordial response to which it is so signally entitled. 
 Mr. Phelps is too well known among us for it to be necessary to 
 dwell upon his claims to an admiration and a respect such as no other 
 living English actor can challenge in the same nnique combination. 
 It is now forty years — all but a few months — since he first came 
 before a London audience (in the character of Shylock). Since that 
 time many changes have come over the English theatre, but Mr. 
 Phelps has been^rue to himself through them all. In other words, 
 he has never failed in that self-respect which in an artist means self- 
 devotion to the noblest purposes of his art ; and if we applaud an 
 analogous kind of consistency in an author, and marvel at it in a 
 statesman, it deserves at least an equal recognition in a member of a 
 profession which must ' please to live.' The stage owes something 
 to Mr. Phelps for this ; for though neither one nor many actors can 
 keep the national theatre as a whole free from the ignobilities which 
 degrade, and from the impurities which pollute it, yet the example 
 and inlluence of one high-minded artist of eminence elevates and 
 refines the national conception of the functions of the drama, and 
 arrests with a force— often incalculable— the sinking of hope, which 
 is the surest symptom of decay. As an actor, Mr. Phelps has so 
 conspicuously shone in both the tragic and the comic drama, that it 
 ■would be an error to suppose him and his art to have confined them- 
 selves to spheres from which it is easy to look down upon a lower 
 world of effort. In Shakespeare, indeed, he has found the majority 
 of the characters in which he has become famous ; but one of the 
 names of Shakespeare's genius is infinite variety, and (to mention 
 only plays which we momentarily call to mind) of what other living 
 English actor of the first rank can it be said, that in liim not only 
 Hamlet, and Macbeth, and Wolsey, and Henry IV., but also Falstaff, 
 Malvolio, and Bottom have found an invariably etiective, and most of
 
 THE "MANCHESTER EXAMINER" ON HIS FAREWELL. 331 
 
 them a pre-eminently effective representative? Sir Giles Overreach 
 and Luke are other characters of the old drama associated with ]\Ir. 
 Phelps's name ; but he has not been less successful in parts belonging 
 to the romantic drama of the present century, or the cliaiacter-comedy 
 of the last ; and in his present brief series of performances at Man- 
 chester are to be included his Richelieu, his Job Thornbury, and, we 
 rejoice to find, his Sir Pertinax Macsycophant. In all these, and in 
 many other characters, Mr. Phelps has found room for the exercise of 
 that power which is his by nature, but to which cultivation and study 
 have so largely added — -the power of giving distinctiveness to each 
 character in which he appears. 
 
 " As in a perfectly preserved picture by an old master, in Mr. 
 Phelps's characters there is nothing blurred or vamped up ; they are 
 all thoroughly elaborated as well as thoroughly conceived. If it be 
 said that in all of them it is easy to recognize the artist's own style, 
 there are two remarks to be made in answer to this favourite cavil of 
 perfunctory criticism. In the lirst place, there are very few great 
 actors known to fame, and there is certainly none known to the 
 experience of the present generation, who possess that absolute power 
 of self-transformation which is not infrequent in minds of a humbler 
 class, but which is only very rarely combined with art of a higher 
 order. Secondly, there is a uniformity which ignorance alone con- 
 demns as sameness, and that is the uniformity of a clear, distinct, 
 and intelligent elocution. In this respect, Mr. Phelps is always like 
 himself, and we never wish him to be otherwise. Let it be hoped 
 that with him the tradition of an utterance which enables every person 
 in the audience to hear and to understand an author's text will not be 
 lost to the English stage. Without this a dramatic performance of 
 Shakespeare himself reduces itself on the stage to a succession of 
 ' points,' and in the audience to a succession of ' sensations.' 
 
 " liut though liere at jNIanchester we naturally look upon ]\Ir. Phelps 
 as an actor hrst and foi'emost, it must not be forgotten that the English 
 theatre owes him something more than his long and illustrious services 
 in this capacity. His quite unique experiment as a manager — when 
 through a series of years he brought all the plays of Shakespeare home 
 to the sympathies of a suburban London theatre, and victoriously 
 overcame obstacles before which any less generous ambition would 
 have quailed — will live in the annals of the English stage after the 
 aberrations of many a fashionable house shall have been forgotten. 
 Such labours as those of Mr. Phelps at Sadler's Wells help to keep 
 the history of the theatre sweet ; and when liberal and benevolent 
 minds seek to bring the great popular influence of the drama into 
 harmony with the true ends of all popular culture, it is from the 
 example of such efforts that they may take courage to ])()iiit the moral 
 tlint wlieu ' the thing's to do,' it sliould and it may be done. Identi- 
 fied during a memorable ])eriod of hi.s public career with the theatre 
 which may be tnily called his creation, Mr. Phelps's figure has been 
 from time to time a farciliar one on the * historic boards' where he
 
 332 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 o 
 
 gained his first national laurels. Here at Manchester he has lent the 
 aid and sanction of his co-operation as an actor to efforts — now, alas ! 
 equally efforts of the past — in harmony with his own endeavours as a 
 manager ; and he has even beyond the seas taught the lovers of the 
 English drama that Shakespeare is still honoured among us where his 
 genius can be most comprehensively studied and most thoroughly 
 appreciated — on the stage. 
 
 " The play in which Mr. Phelps appeared last night is one admirably 
 suited to a personal farewell. Henry VIII. , — wliatever the opinion of 
 modern critics as to its authorship may be worth, — is rather a history 
 than a tragic drama ; and though tradition speaks of not only Queen 
 Katharine, but King Harry, as an effective part, the dramatic interest 
 centres in the figure of Cardinal Wolsey, and except in the trial and 
 the last scene of the Queen, is almost absorbed by it. Mr. Phelps 
 judiciously selected this favourite character, in which his elocutionary 
 powers have so fine an opportunity, and in which his grandeur of 
 gesture and dignity of bearing may be allowed full play. The self- 
 contented repose of the first act, and the politic anxiousness of the 
 second were, as usual, clearly distinguished from the overthrow — never 
 passing into the indignity of a collapse — of the third. It is a pecu- 
 liarly happy touch that ]\Ir. Phelps's Cardinal holds his head erect 
 when doing obeisance to the King at the very moment when disgrace 
 is upon him ; and the emotion of the scene with CromweU is an 
 emotion only, though a deep and bitter one, not a theatrical meta- 
 morphosis of the man. In many ways Mr. Phelps could not have 
 been seen to more advantage than he was last night, when a full and 
 enthusiastic house attested the enduring effectiveness of his Wolsey." 
 
 A week later the same paper said : — 
 
 " Mr. Phelps is this week alternating Eichelieu with Wolsey, 
 affording thereby a contrast by no means to the advantage of Lord 
 Lytton's workmanship as a dramatic author. The two portraits have 
 at first sight much in common. Both are wily politico-ecclesiasts, 
 scheming, crafty, and ambitious. In both the sentiment of patriotism 
 is present, in conflict with consuming zeal for the Church ; and in both 
 the national feehng is overborne by the dominant influence of Pome. 
 But Lord Lytton's Pachelieu differs from Shakespeare's Wolsey in 
 this essential respect, that while Wolsey pursued a policy to which he 
 made everything, including the most sacred human affections, sub- 
 servient, Eichelieu rules by expedient and device, is swayed by 
 caprice, and suddenly changes his intentions towards the King's 
 enemies, to gratify the wishes of a favourite ward. The one is a 
 grand historical character ; the other, notwithstanding his great clever- 
 ness and readiness of resource, a mere stage statesman. Mr. Phelps, 
 as might be expected, and as everybody who has seen him knows, 
 admirably distinguishes the two characters. If his Wolsey is greatest, 
 it is because the character is greater, Nothing could be more complete
 
 THE "LIVERPOOL POST" ON SIR PETER TEAZLE. 333 
 
 than his identification with each character. In Richelieu, even in 
 make up, he is the fox ; in his genial moments, when apparently he 
 gives way to honest and kindly impulses, we are in doubt, like De 
 jMauprat, whether he is not mocking a victim whom he is about to 
 entrap. Even the unsatisfied state in which he leaves the spectators 
 at the fall of the curtain is artistic. We should wish to like iJichelieu, 
 and cannot altogether. We are impelled to hate him, and dare not 
 utterly. Even our admiration of his transcendent ability and know- 
 ledge of human nature is mixed, since the danger and futility of his 
 devioiis policy is abundantly transparent, and induces the contempt 
 which is due to a palpable exhibition of shiftiness and short-sighted- 
 ness. But as a piece of acting, Mr. Phelps's Eichelieu is altogether 
 admirable. The subtlety and complexity of the character are admirably 
 illustrated by the wonderful facial expression and by-play of Avhich 
 the veteran artist is so wonderful a master." 
 
 The Liverpool Daily Post of 80th March, 1877, had the 
 following on his Sir Peter Teazle : — 
 
 Alexandra Theatre. 
 
 " Last night another opportunity was afforded of witnessing the 
 Sir Peter Teazle of Mr. Phelps, which has not been seen on a Liverpool 
 stage for many years ; and a large audience found genuine pleasure, 
 not merely in seeing Mrs. Saker's handsome face again, but in 
 appreciating the ease, the gaiety, and the other good qualities of her 
 very successful performance. 
 
 " Mr. Phelps's Sir Peter is a mine of histrionic treasure, enriched 
 rather than impoverished as time ambles with him towards the sunny 
 close of an honourable and laborious career, every step of which has led 
 his countrymen in pure and elevated paths. The varied experiences 
 of the old married bachelor — his quaint soliloquies, his talks with his 
 wife in every connubial mood, his satirical encounters with the 
 ' scandalous college,' his brusque homeliness with his old friend Sir 
 Oliver, his pathetic confidence with Joseph, his intense enjoyment 
 of that sentimental purist's escapade with the little French milliner, 
 and his grim dignity at the crisis of the screen scene, when he is no 
 longer ' in the dark ' — afford Mr. Phelps endless opportunities for 
 exhil)iting that perfect and pregnant finish, which, without fuss or 
 overlaying with superfluous detail, affords an audience a constant 
 change of intellectual enjoyment. The filling out is simply beautiful, 
 the result of rare experience, and judgment not less rare, applied with 
 a calm deliberation that allows each fruit of reffective invention to 
 come to its fair perfeftion. 
 
 " Take such a detail, f(jr instance, as IMr. Phelps's entrance when he 
 finds Joseph Surface in his study 'improving Inmself.' Once seen 
 it is a simplf tiling enough to cntiir so (piietly and admiringly, to i^tcp 
 softly up behind the studious Joseph, to look for a moment at his
 
 334 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 attitude with cordial approval, then to raise the double eye-glass and 
 look over his shoulder closely, in order, as it were, to share for a 
 moment the pleasure of his favourite's studies. But how satisfying 
 and delightful is the effect of this well-considered prelude to the 
 dialoQfue ! In a broader view nothing can be finer — nothing truer 
 
 O CO 
 
 either to the situation, to the characteristics of approaching senility, 
 or to the author's humour — than Mr. Phelps's intense but restrained 
 enjoyment of the 'joke against Joseph.' His mirth, which seems 
 to make the old gentleman a sort of animated champagne-goblet of 
 merry ecstasy, is quite contagious, and the humorous gratification 
 which he suppresses rather than expresses in a series of inarticulate 
 but infinitely amusing soimds, is freely indulged by the audience in 
 peals of laughter, followed by appreciative bursts of applause. It 
 would be tedious to go into more lengthy particulars. These are a 
 couple of instances of the versatile, but profound excellence of a 
 performance which many of those who were present last night will 
 hereafter boast with just delight of having seen." 
 
 On the 24th of October, 1876, at the banquet given to 
 the theatrical profession by Mr. Alderman Cotton, when Lord 
 Mayor, at the Mansion House, Mr. Phelps, in replying to the 
 toast of " The Shakespearean Dramas" with which his name 
 was coupled, spoke as follows : — 
 
 " I can say very little to you about the Shakespearean drama 
 beyond what I dare say the greater portion of you already know. 
 But my object in speaking to you to-night is for a very diflerent 
 purpose. 
 
 " The Lord Mayor has spoken much of the educational power 
 of the drama. You will forgive me if I speak of myself more 
 than good taste would suggest. If I do so, it is only as 
 exemplifying what is to come after. 
 
 " Some years ago I took an obscure theatre in the north of 
 London called Sadler's Wells, and nearly the whole of my 
 brethren in the profession, and many out of it, said it would 
 not last a fortnight. It lasted eighteen years, and my stock-in- 
 trade chiefly consisted of the plays of Shakespeare. Now I 
 determined to act, if possible, the whole of Shakespeare's plays. 
 I acted thirty-one of all sorts, from aged Lear to youthful 
 Pericles, and the thought begotten in my mind latterly was, 
 that if that theatre could be made to pay, as I did make it 
 pay, not making a fortune certainly, but bringing up a large 
 family and paying my way — well, ladies and gentlemen, I
 
 SPEECH AT THE MANSION HOUSE. 335 
 
 thought if I could do that for eighteen years, why could it not 
 be done again ? But mark you, I found that about every five 
 or six years I had fresh audiences, that plays would bear 
 repeating again and again, and by a peculiar economic method 
 of my own I was enabled to repeat them without any very 
 great expense. Well, if that could be done by me as a humble 
 individual, why could it not be done by the Government of 
 this country ? Why could not a subsidized theatre, uj)on a 
 moderate scale of expense, be added to the late educational 
 scheme, by which children are forced somehow or other into 
 school ? 
 
 " I maintain, from the experience of eighteen years, that the 
 perpetual iteration of Shakespeare's words, if nothing more, 
 going on daily for so many months in the year, must and would 
 produce a great effect upon the public mind. Moreover, I have 
 at this moment in my possession hundreds of letters from men 
 of all sorts and conditions who came to see me at Sadler's Wells 
 as boys, and who have written to me as men to say that they 
 received their first glimpse of education at that theatre. They 
 have gone on improving in the world, doing this, and that, and 
 the other which I cannot tell, as I have not time, but I have 
 those letters in my house in proof of what I say. 
 
 " If I could find any member of Parliament (which I fear is 
 hopeless), I would willingly devote what little of life remains 
 to me, to point out the way in which this could be done, and 
 I would willingly give evidence in the House of Commons to 
 prove the truth of Shakespeare's educating powers. 
 
 " I merely throw my bread upon the waters ; it may float 
 away and disappear for ever, but I throw out the hint in the 
 earnest hope that it may gather strength, and that it may come 
 back after many days." 
 
 On Mr. Phelps taking liis farewell of the Manchester public, 
 in 1877, the following address, beautifully illuminated and bound 
 in morocco, was presented to him by the Brasenose Club, of 
 which he was a member : —
 
 336 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 TO 
 
 SAMUEL PHELPS, ESQ., 
 
 FROM 
 
 ^he Drascuosc €lnb, 
 
 MANCHESTER. 
 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 A few of your fellow-members of the Brasenose 
 Club, desire in this form to bid you a respectful and affec- 
 tionate adieu on your approaching retirement from the stage. 
 
 We only follow universal opinion in recognizing in you one 
 of the last, and assuredly not the least, of those who, through 
 the course of a life-time devoted to the culture and exposition 
 of the noble dramatic literature of the country, have laboured, 
 wdiether as actor or manager, to consecrate the theatre to its 
 highest purposes. 
 
 Were it your merited praise simply to have founded with 
 your own hands an asylum for the disregarded and declining 
 drama, and to have maintained it by your genius and persever- 
 ance with such success that a remote and ill-frequented suburb 
 of London became for years the centre of attraction to Shake- 
 spearean students, a school of reviving taste, and the rallying 
 ground of lofty impulses not yet, we Avould believe, exhausted, 
 your name would deserve to be held in lasting recollection and 
 esteem. 
 
 We also, however, honour in you the gifted personal expositor 
 of numerous beautiful and instructive creations, endowed 
 through you for thousands of hearers with a charm and 
 intensity of meaning which, without your powerful aid, they 
 would never have been discovered to possess. 
 
 To one who has exerted himself with so much success to 
 raise the national character by reiining the intellectual amuse- 
 ments of the people, it is no exaggeration to address the 
 language applied by the Poet Laureate to one of your most 
 distinguished predecessors, Mr. Macready, on his taking leave 
 of the profession in which he was intimately associated with 
 yourself —
 
 FAREWELL ADDRESS OF THE BRASEXOSE CLUB. 337 
 
 '"' Rank with the best, 
 Garrick, and statelier Kemble. and the rest, 
 Wlio made a nation purer through their art. 
 Thine is it that our drama did not die, 
 Nor flicker down to brainless pantomime, 
 And those gilt-gauds men-children swarm to see." 
 
 We reflect with pleasure on the bond of union between you 
 and this Club, which will not be broken by the cessation of 
 your periodical visits to Manchester. 
 
 If our local opportunities of seeing you have been compara- 
 tively few, they have been all the more warmly cherished, and it 
 is with sincere regret that, while hoping for you many years of 
 deserved repose in private life, we face the necessity of bidding 
 you, in your public capacity, a grateful and admiring Farewell. 
 
 Joseph Manchester, Chairman. 
 L. W. Andrews, Treasurer. 
 
 Jno. Robt. Newby, Hon. Secretary. 
 
 Brasenose Street, Manchester, 
 March nth, 1877. 
 
 Alfred Aspland, F.KC.S. 
 
 T. Walton Gillibrand. 
 
 William Alfred Turner. 
 
 Arthur G. Symonds, M.A. 
 
 William Bright Morris. 
 
 William Leader. 
 
 Henry Measham. 
 
 George Evans, F.R.S.L. 
 
 Charles Estcourt, F.C.S. 
 
 Harry Bridson, M.A. 
 
 J. Lees Aspland, M.A. 
 
 Fra. Hampton. 
 
 Samuel Taylor, M.A. 
 
 Richard Smith, B.A. 
 
 J. Fox Turner. 
 
 Thomas C. Johnson. 
 
 Charles Schuster. 
 
 J. Edge Partington. 
 
 G. W. Smith. 
 
 F. R. B. Lindsell. 
 
 John Nelson. 
 
 E. Hulton. 
 
 Alfred Darby shire, FJ.B.A. 
 
 H. M. Brazil. 
 
 Edward do Jong, Chevalier. 
 
 F. P. Rickards. 
 T. Edmondson. 
 H. W. J. Tracie. 
 J. J. Armitage. 
 George Freemantle. 
 H. E. Brest. 
 Thomas Browning. 
 George Falkner. 
 John Bagshaw. 
 W. D. Jeans. 
 Abel Heywood, Junr. 
 William C. Lord. 
 Joseph B. Forster. 
 Thomas Worthington. 
 Selim Rothwell. 
 J. H. ]3avies. 
 William Morton. 
 William Hull. 
 William Lamb Hockin. 
 William Warburton. 
 Robert Pollett. 
 J. F. Faraday. 
 J. Houghton Hayne. 
 J. Kwald Pendleton, 
 E. Leader Williams, Junr. 
 
 z
 
 338 
 
 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 John Slagg. 
 Henry Watkinson. 
 H. M. Acton. 
 Samuel Beaumont. 
 Alfred Sington. 
 Frank Merriman, 
 Edward G. Simpson. 
 Thomas Swanston. 
 William Grimshaw. 
 F. A. Haserick, 
 William Knight Keeling. 
 Christopher Sparrow. 
 John Angell, F.C.S. 
 Edwin Waugh. 
 A. H. Danes Colley. 
 Nath. Cartwright. 
 John Dewhurst Milne. 
 Henry A. Schwabe. 
 Charles R. Allen. 
 Howarth Ashton. 
 T. C. d'Anguier. 
 W. R R. Gemmell. 
 George H. Fryer. 
 John Shuttleworth. 
 E. Salomons. 
 Vernon Cochrane. 
 J. G. Lynde. 
 
 Edward Milner. 
 
 R. W. Edmondson. 
 
 James H. Lynde. 
 
 Gustav Voigt. 
 
 Peter Allen. 
 
 Henry knowles, L.R.C.P. 
 
 Edward F. Lloyd, R.E. 
 
 Leonard Tatham. 
 
 William Sidney. 
 
 Robert Leake. 
 
 J. H. E. Partington. 
 
 J. G. Wehner. 
 
 James Lamb. 
 
 Thomas Tatham. 
 
 Ottley S. Perry. 
 
 Richard Gay Somerset. 
 
 H. Bowman. 
 
 Christian Reimers. 
 
 W. J. Buckley. 
 
 Samuel Barlow. 
 
 G. Sheffield. 
 
 George Hayes. 
 
 Edward T. Bellhouse. 
 
 Edward Atkinson. 
 
 William Abercrombie. 
 
 John Heywood. 
 
 Samuel Buckley, F.R.C.S. 
 
 The following lines appeared in Punch on the 16th of 
 November, 1878 : — 
 
 SAMUEL PHELPS. 
 Born, 1804. Died, November 1878. 
 
 So falls the last of the brave troop who fought 
 
 A good fight for a nobler, statelier Stage ; 
 When young hearts, young hopes swelled to the high thought 
 
 Of spells that should renew the Drama's age : 
 
 That bright hope grew, took shape, and of it came 
 Great plaj'S of old, presented Avith new power ; 
 
 Purer one theatre, at least, became. 
 
 And all was quickened life for a brief hour.
 
 LINES FROM "PUNCH." 339 
 
 Swift as it rose the light began to wane, 
 
 When they that could best aid to it have given, 
 
 Set faces hard, and thought of pence to gain, 
 
 More than of Art, that 'gainst the tide had striven. 
 
 And when the chief of that foiled enterprise 
 
 Laid down his truncheon, this man did not fear 
 
 With smaller force, and in less stately guise, 
 To hold the same good fight for many a year. 
 
 Lifting rude hearers from their rough disport 
 To rare, invoking Shakespeare's magic spell, 
 
 To work its wonders on the baser sort. 
 
 The downward bent of joyless souls to quell. 
 
 Bringing all Beauty, Terror, Tenderness, 
 
 Fantasy's wildest freaks. Mirth's brightest face, 
 
 Humour's most potent charm, athwart the stress 
 Of all Life has of sordid, foul, and base. 
 
 And nightly, year on year, with brief stage-cheat, 
 Out of a workday world, poor, grim, and grey, 
 
 Bearing the crowd on Art's wings, wide as fleet. 
 To fairer lives, and realms of summer day. 
 
 For eighteen years who knows how much of hope, 
 
 Grace, sweetness, aspiration, this man's art 
 Has sown or strengthened, imped what wings, to cope 
 
 With downward drag of counter, street, and mart ; 
 
 Set what founts flowing, ope'd what windows wide. 
 Done what school work, as school but rarely can 1 
 
 On all this he might well look back with pride. 
 As one who had wrought well in cause of man. 
 
 "O* 
 
 No common Actor either, he could roach 
 
 A range of various parts, from grave to gay ; 
 
 With simple touches probe the^ heart, and teach 
 By pause, hand, look, what words are weak to say. 
 
 Kone better gave the struggle of strong w^ill 
 
 With yearning heart ; * none with more power portrayed 
 Tho loving fathcr,t hardening himself still. 
 
 Till ]jy the voice of nature overswayed. 
 
 • Job Thombury. t Old Dornton. 
 
 Z 2
 
 340 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 His name brings "back the mad Midsummer Dream, 
 And ass's head of the Athenian Clown : 
 
 With him as Falstaff in Eastcheap we seem 
 To feed Hal's laugh, and wither at his frown. 
 
 But less, just noAv, behoves us call to mind 
 All that the Actor was, than fairly tell 
 
 How much his work of managing combined, 
 
 To earn good word from those who wish men well. 
 
 Honest and hearty, howso curt and gruff, 
 None knew but to respect the sterling soul. 
 
 To learn that deep down in his gnarled stuff 
 Lay a soft core beneath the rugged bole. 
 
 Farewell to him, and honour to his work. 
 Done years ago, but not yet passed away : 
 
 "Whose growths in unexpected places lurk, 
 To bless and cheer, to solace and to stay. 
 
 The following appeared in Funny Folks, November, 1878 
 
 SAMUEL PHELPS.; 
 
 1804—1878. 
 
 Sweet memories shed — 
 As fragrant blossoms from a coronal 
 
 Gratefully fall- 
 Around our Greatest Actor lying dead. 
 
 Too soon to say 
 How great the genius that our land has lost, 
 
 Or, to its cost. 
 What of its Drama's strength he bears away. 
 
 Dear is his name 
 Who gave anew our Shakespeare to the stage. 
 
 And from the age 
 Won thence a warrant of unending fame. 
 
 Honoured and dear 
 His memory, who, transcendent in his art, 
 
 Played too his part 
 Upon Life's stage without reproach or fear.
 
 THE "ISLINGTON GAZETTE" ON PHELPS. 341 
 
 From the Islington Gazette, Monday, 11th November, 1878 : — 
 
 "By the death of Samuel Fhelps we lose one whose name has heen 
 as a household word witli Islingtonians. Few among us of mature 
 age have not preserved a remembrance of a long series of dramatic 
 triumphs that invested old Sadler's AYells with noble traditions, and 
 which were the creation — the life-work, in fact — of the earnest student 
 and great actor who has just passed away. For eighteen years our 
 amusements were chastened, our recreations refined, and our minds 
 instructed by one who, excelling in his art, earnestly strove to elevate 
 its practice. It is well known that during the period that Mr. Phelps 
 devoted himself to the production of the legitimate drama at the old 
 house in Clerkenwell, he battled as much against financial misfortune 
 as a degenerate taste. It needed, to sustain Shakespeare and kindred 
 poets in a dignity worthy of them, not merely one of surpassing talent 
 in their interpretation, but courage to bear the disheartening coldness 
 with which at times that interpretation was received. Samuel Phelps 
 fulfilled both conditions. Beginning with an audience which had 
 been the most unruly and depraved in London, he set himself to 
 educate the people of the north in the beauties of the higher drama. 
 It is related of him that, in the first weeks of his memorable manage- 
 ment, he found it necessary to personally quell disturbances in the 
 front of the curtain, and for that purpose he has been known to leave 
 the stage with but a cloak over his theatrical dress. He conquered 
 quickly however, as much by his firm will as his histrionic genius, 
 and he soon gathered around him a host of students, who were fascin- 
 ated and enchanted by the master. He did more : he formed a 
 company of players whose eminence in their several positions was 
 hardly less than his own, and whose names occupy some of the most 
 prominent places in the history of the modern stage. Sadler's Wells 
 became the temple of the legitimate drama. There, with taste un- 
 questionable, with erudition thorough, and industry unfailing, Mr. 
 Phelps produced numberless plays with a completeness that has 
 seldom, if ever, been equalled. Each one would furnisli an old play- 
 goer with topics for a week's gossip. Unlike his contemporary, 
 Charles Kean, who at that time was astonishing London with what 
 were sometimes sneeringly described as displays of stage upholstery, 
 ^Ir. Phelps aimed not only at pleasing the eye Avith scenery and stage 
 groupings, but at bringing into worthy prominence every (quality of 
 his authors. His company, under his exacting, but not unkind 
 discipline, worked with the unanimity and devotion of enthusiasts. 
 They caught some of his fire, and not a few of them in after days had 
 reason to thank tlieir leader for the quality. He won the respect of 
 every one of them, and he was the idol of his audiences. Living 
 amongst us for so many years, dying almost amongst us — for he had 
 oidy temporarily left his Islington home wlien he passed away — he 
 was claimed by Islingtonians, who felt they had more tli.in an 
 ordiiiaiy share in the general estimation of his great abilities. In
 
 342 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 losing him they must feel the loss of a friend ; of one whose name 
 recalls tlie pleasautest recollections, whose genius beguiled many a 
 happy hour, Avhose life and work were a protest against the ofttimes 
 sweeping condemnation of those who strut their little hour upon 
 the stage." 
 
 The Western Times, an Exeter paper, contained the follow- 
 ing account of Mr. Phelps's earlier career on Tuesday, 12tli 
 November, 1878 :— 
 
 Mr. Samuel Phelps. 
 
 " The death of this eminent actor on Wednesday will awaken 
 interesting reminiscences in the minds of very old play-goers of 
 Exeter. It was about 1836 that Mr. Phelps came to Exeter as the 
 leading tragedian. His superior style of acting, and his quiet, amiable, 
 ' untheatrical manners,' as they were termed, gained him many 
 friends, and among them was Mr. Thomas Latimer, who enjoyed his 
 talents as an artist, and his society as a sober, thoughtful student of 
 the Elizabethan poets. They walked many score miles together in 
 Devonshire, and so modest were Phelps's aspirations at that time, that 
 being in Babbacombe Bay, reclining on the rocks together, he said to 
 the writer that he would undertake for .£300 a year never to go out 
 of that wild and romantic spot. Babbacombe Bay at that time was 
 not very far removed from a state of nature. Beyond the Gary Arms, 
 and a couple of cottage residences or so, there were no denizens. It 
 was the abode of innocence and peace, nothing contentious being 
 nearer to it than Anstey's Cove — an old hainit of ' force-traders,' as 
 the smugglers called themselves, and subsequently the abode of the 
 late amiable bishop of the diocese. This, however, was a passing 
 thought of the artist, enjoying in a beautiful day the soothing nicotine, 
 and lulled by the measured beating of the sea as it broke on the 
 pebbly beach beneath. The writer had assured him again and again 
 that he was destined to go to London, and the reports which went up 
 to town of the intellectual treasure-trove at Exeter led the manager of 
 the Southampton Theatre to offer Samuel Phelps a 'star' engage- 
 ment, which he went up and discharged. Macready went down to 
 Southampton, saw him play, and engaged him at a salary of twelve 
 pounds a week, which Avas about four times the sum he had at Exeter. 
 "Webster also saw him, and offered him an engagement on much more 
 advantageous terms. He told Mr. Webster that he was engaged for 
 Covent Garden. He replied that he opened before ' the Garden,' and 
 engaged him for the short interval. Phelps appeared at the Haymarket 
 as Shylock. Colonel Hamilton-Smith of Plymouth — -an eminent 
 scholar, and a great authority in historical costume — gave him the 
 correct notion of Shylock 's attire as he appeared on the Rialto, and in 
 that guise Phelps appeared at the Haymarket ; and having stood the 
 first night, we were satisfied that he was accepted by London.
 
 THE "WESTEEX TIMES" ON PHELPS. 343 
 
 " Toucliiug this * first appearance/ the Standard of Thursday- 
 says : — 
 
 "'More than forty years ago — on 29th August, 1837— an entry in 
 !Macready's Diary records : — " Sent for the Morninrj Herald, and read 
 tlie account of Mr. Phelps's appearance, which seems to lue a decided 
 success. It depressed my spirits, though perhaps it should not do so. 
 If he is greatly successful, 1 shall reap the pro tits ; if moderately, he 
 will strengthen my company. But an actor's fame and his dependent 
 income is {■■>ie) so precarious that we start at every shadow of any 
 actor. It is an unhappy life." To a less jealous disposition than 
 that of Macread}' the life prohably is less unhappy ; and, if success 
 brought happiness, there is every reason to hope that the life of the 
 actor whose early triumph is here registered was not unhappy, for 
 the name of Samuel Phelps must now be added to the list of actors 
 of the j^ast.' 
 
 '•'Touching this 'jealousy 'of Macready, it was our lot to hear a 
 good deal, though in after years Phelps once ' confessed ' in conversa- 
 tion with the writer that he should probably have done as Macready 
 had if their places had been changed. 
 
 * * * * * * * 
 
 "The writer received from him a letter on the subject of his 
 grievance, from which we make the following extract : — 
 
 " '98, Albany Street, Regent's Park. 
 
 "'My dear Latimer, 
 
 " ' I am glad you have written to me, because I am now 
 compelled to do that which I have thought of doing for the last 
 six weeks — write to you. There are few things in this world afford 
 me greater pleasure than receiving letters from those whom I esteem ; * 
 it is therefore strange that one of my greatest antipathies should 
 be in endeavouring to afford others the same gratihcation — but so 
 it is. I seldom write till I am scourged into doing so. 
 
 " ' I am sorry to tell you I am not so happy, or even comfortable, 
 as I expected — and ought to be. Macready is using me infamously. 
 I have been now at Covent Garden since the Ifith October, and 
 have only acted four parts. I opened in Jaffier (Venice Preserved), 
 and my reception was enthusiastic in the highest degree — the triumph 
 being greater because Macready jilayed Pierre with me. I then acted 
 Othello, with the same degree of success. A^enice Preserved was 
 so highly spoken of and inquired for that he was obliged to do it 
 a second time, but would not play in the piece himself — so weak 
 a man is he that he cannot bear the idea of sharing the honoxir of 
 a niglit with any one. 
 
 " ' During the last month I have acted only once a week, — Macduff, 
 on the INfonday nights, and on one occasion ]|(jb lioy. Ho has made 
 several attempts to force me into subordinate characters, which I
 
 344 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 have resisted. I wonder you have seen nothing in the papers 
 (Sunday). Several of them have taken up my cause very warmly : 
 Tlie News, Satirist, Sunda/j Times, &c., have had very long articles 
 relative to his treatment of me. So convinced am I that, had I 
 been properly treated, I should by this time have stood on a pinnacle, 
 that I have been employing an attorney to see if there was any 
 legal way of getting off my engagement, and last light we took 
 Sir William FoUett's opinion on the subject, which I rpgret to say 
 was unfavourable. The only alternative Macready will allow me 
 is entering into a bond 7iot to ad in London during the jyresent Covent 
 Garden season, or to fullil my engagement with him, — -which, if 
 he pursues his present treatment (and he will do so), will bend my 
 spirit downwards to such a degree that its elasticity will be lost, 
 and it will never spring into its place again. I have expended about 
 .£150 on costumes, but I am afraid I must for some time hang 'em 
 up at home — to look at. 
 
 ******* 
 
 " ' I see very little of London, have refused all kinds of invitations 
 — resolved not to put myself in the way of temptation. Our house 
 is within a stone's throw of "Cockney Mount," alias Primrose Hill. 
 Thitlier I bend my steps daily, look down upon the great Babel — 
 as least as much as I can see of it. I sometimes get a glimpse of 
 Paul's Cross just peeping over the smoky curtain. I always fancy 
 it gives me a friendly nod, and tells me to keep where I am. I 
 turn my l:)ack on it, walk towards Hampstead, and bless my stars 
 that I don't live in the " City." Mrs. L. and the little ones, I 
 hope, are as mine — all well. 
 
 " ' Yours sincerely, 
 
 " ' S. Phelps.' 
 
 "He had three sons and three daughters. Two of the sons and 
 one of the daughters are dead. She was married to a wealthy 
 manufacturer of Preston. His eldest son, William Robert, a barrister, 
 was appointed Chief Justice of St. Helena, in Avhich post he died 
 of typhoid fever, leaving a widow and three children, — his widow 
 being second daughter of Mr. Thomas Latimer, of Exeter." 
 
 After Mr. Phelps's death, in December 1878, Tom Taylor 
 wrote of him, in the magazine called The Theatre, as follows * : — 
 
 "Somewhere between 1856 and 1859 Robson came to me with a 
 request that I would transform Rigoletto from an opera to a play, as 
 he thought he ' saw himself in the part of the jester. I asked him 
 
 * This article is reprinted from The TJieatre by the express permission 
 of Mr. Clement Scott.— W. M. P.
 
 TOM TAYLOR AXD THE FOOL'S REVENGE. 345 
 
 ■why he should think of Verdi's Rigoletto when he had Victor Hugo's 
 Triboulet within reach. I found, as might have been expected, that 
 the popular actor knew nothing of Le Eoi s'Amuse. His desire to 
 play Eigoletto had been fired either by seeing Ronconi in the part, 
 or by a description of the effect he produced in it. I told him at once 
 to dismiss from his mind the idea of a conversion of the opera into 
 .1 play. Horrors which were tolerable in a musical dress would be 
 intolerable treated in a more naked stage form. Even Victor Hugo's 
 drama, I added, as far as I remembered it, contained much that would 
 in all probability be fatal to its acceptance by a Jhitish public, 
 unexcited by the battle of Classicists and Eomanticists, and only 
 tolerant of horrors in its own measure and on its own conditions. 
 But I would re-read Victor Hugo's play, I told him, and let him 
 know the result. 
 
 " On reading Le Eoi s'Amuse with this object (as I have already 
 stated in effect in the preface to the printed play of The Fool's 
 Eevenge), I found so much in it that seemed to me, if not absolutely 
 inadmissible, at least Hkely to be unacceptable on our stage, so 
 much besides that was defective in that mainspring of stage-etfect — 
 climax, that I determined to take the situation of the jester and his 
 daughter, and to re-cast in my own way the incidents in which their 
 story had been invested by the French dramatist. I shall, no doubt, 
 be told again, as I have often been told already, that ' this was very 
 presumptuous in me, even if quite honest ; ' that a dramatic author 
 has no business to boiTow from the ideas of others ; that the ' adapter ' 
 is an objectionable person altogether, who cannot in fairness claim any 
 higher function than that of translator ; that Victor Hugo is a great 
 classic, whose work should be sacred ; that though Moliere might say, 
 ' Je 2J>'ends mun blen oh je le trouve,^ the saying has been perverted 
 by those who construe it into a warrant for taking effective dramatic 
 material wherever they find it, the phrase having really been used 
 by the great French comic poet to justify the resumption of a scene 
 of his own which had been appropriated without acknowledgment 
 by a would-be rival — that it is, in fact, an assertion of the right to 
 reclaim stolen goods, not a claim of special right on the dramatist's 
 part to steal them. Tliis I believe, in fact, tc be a strictly correct 
 interpretation of Moli^re's first use of the maxim which has so often 
 been quoted in justification of dramatic larceny. 
 
 " Leaving all this, however, on one side for the present, and omitting 
 any attempt to maintain the justice of my criticism of Le Roi s'Amuse 
 as a stage-play, I have only to say that at that time I went with 
 an untroubled conscience about my Avork of refitting Triboulet and 
 Blanche into a new story with new surroundings. 1 had just been 
 reading the history of the Italian Republics, and the story of the 
 poisoning of Galeotto ]\Ianfredi, lord of Faenza, by his jfalous wife, 
 Francesca ]>entivoglio, had struck me as higbly suggestive; of dra- 
 matic treatment. The jester and his daughter fitted readily into the
 
 346 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 framework of a brilliant but vicious Italian Court of the Eenaissance, 
 with its reckless lusts, its dark intrigues, its fierce jealousies, its subtle 
 and sudden poisonings. Here seemed to be an excellent medium for 
 setting forth both the jester's wrongs, his long-cherished purpose of 
 revenge, and its final miscarriage, under the mysterious guidance of 
 that Divinity ' That shapes our ends, Eough-hew them how we 
 will.' But the purpose of this paper is not to assert originality of 
 motives or machinery for my play of The Fool's Eevenge, though in 
 fairness both to an illustrious French dramatist and myself, it seemed 
 not unfitting to say this much of the drama which first brought me 
 into personal contact with Mr. Phelps as manager of Sadler's Wells 
 theatre. 
 
 " When the play Avas finished I read it to Eobson. It had shaped 
 itself into blank verse, as plaj's do shape themselves, as if by con- 
 ditions of their own begetting. liow Eobson had never played a 
 blank verse part. His theatre — the Olympic — was not known in 
 connection with blank verse plays. He liked the play and the part 
 much, but whether it was a self-engendered fear of adventuring on a 
 form of work new to him, and unfamiliar to his theatre, or an alarm 
 inspired in him by his partner, Mr. Einden, the result, after much 
 discussion, was my promising to write him another part instead of 
 Bertuccio, and, after some little interval, my sending The Fool's 
 Eevenge to Phelps, who had already produced with success some of 
 my dear old friend James White's historical plays. 
 
 " Phelps read my play with a promptness as gratifying as unusual. 
 Except when managers are on the very horns of a dilemma, I have 
 usually foTind even the best of them slow to read plays, slower to 
 make up their minds about them, and slower still to make their minds 
 known to the authors. The loss of the old-fashioned functionary, the 
 ' reader ' of a theatre, whcjse business it was to read all plays submitted 
 to the management, and to pronounce judgment on them, is a very 
 serious one for authors. Any risk of suffering by the reader's un- 
 favourable verdict would, I should think, be more than compensated 
 by the certainty of a reading within something like reasonable time, 
 and a judgment of some kind, — in all probability quite as trustworthy 
 as the manager's — an actor, in nine cases out of ten, who, if the 
 piece contain a part for him, is but too likely to judge it entirely with 
 reference to the chance he sees, or thinks he sees, of making a hit in 
 that part. 
 
 " jS'o doubt Phelps saw a good part for himself in Bertuccio. But, 
 at least, he lost no time in satisfying himself, and me, that the piece 
 would suit both him and his theatre, and that he would put it in 
 rehearsal without delay. As far as he could see, he said, there were 
 no cuts or changes wanted. I may say, en passant, that this judgment 
 was borne out by the event. The Fool's Eevenge is the only one of 
 all my plays put on the stage absolutely as it was sent into the theatre, 
 without alteration of a scene, a speech, or even a line, as far as 1
 
 TOM TAYLOR AND THE FOOL'S REVENGE. 347 
 
 remember, at rehearsaL I have no recollection of reading the play to 
 the Sadler's Wells company. I rather think Phelps must have read 
 it, but I may be mistaken ; if he did read it, it is the only instance of 
 managerial reading in my long experience of the theatre. Eut if I 
 have forgotten the reading, I well remember the rehearsals. In con- 
 sultation "with Phelps, the period of the costume and scenery was 
 fixed at the time of Francis I., though this was later than the date of 
 the play. I suppose some scenery already in the theatre and costumes 
 already in the wardrobe were thus made available. We were of one 
 mind that, provided the scenery and costumes were effective in them- 
 selves, and consistent essentially with each other, a few score years 
 too soon or too late were perfectly immaterial. That was before the 
 days of absolute realism and scrupulous archiEology ; but not in the 
 most precise and martinettish "West End theatre of the time could 
 more pams have been taken to realize correctness in essentials, and, 
 above all, consistency of dresses and scenery, architecture, properties, 
 and appliances, than in Sadler's Wells. In this respect Phelps 
 seemed to me to hit the true mean between too much and too little as 
 regards show, cost, and keeping in stage externals. All was thought 
 of, and all was done that conduces to effect ; nothing neglected that 
 was needed to help the picture or imjiress the imagination. P)ut there 
 was no pedantry, no idle or ostentatious outlay, no insisting on 
 archaeological minutiae for their own sake ; none of the feeling which 
 made Charles Kean, at the Princess's, call out to the actor who was 
 rehearsing Edmund in Lear, when he gives Edgar his key, ' j\Iake 
 more of the key, sir. Good God ! you give it him as if it was a 
 common room-door-key ! Let the audience see it, sir ; make 'em feel 
 it, sir ; impress upon 'em that it is a key of the period ! ' 
 
 " The cast of The Fool's Eevenge included, with Mr. Phelps as 
 Bertuccio, Mr. H. Marston as Manfredi ; Mr. F. Eobinson as Seratino 
 del' Aquila, the young poet; ]\lr. Belford as Torelli ; Miss Atkinson 
 as the jealous, revengeful Francesca ; Miss Heath as the pure and 
 innocent Fiordelisa, Bertuccio's daughter ; and Mrs. H. IMarston as her 
 duenna. I never saw rehearsals more thorough, more careful, or more 
 business-like. Phelps was as able as he was indefatigable in stage 
 management. He did the work of guidance and governance of his 
 actors singly, and of the action as a whole ; which nowadays, in 
 nineteen cases out of twenty, has to be done by the author, or, failing 
 him, is not done at all. Stage management, to one who remembers 
 Macready at Drury Lane and Covent Garden, the Keans at tlie 
 Princess's (where the wife wrought even more strenuously than the 
 husband), and Phelps at Sadler's Wells, seems, with rare excep- 
 tions, a lost art. When one thinks how all-important for stage 
 results good stage management is, one may well stand aghast at 
 most of what passes for it in these days. It would be well if both 
 English managers and actors could be put through a course of 
 rehearsals in a good French theatre, that they might see how our
 
 348 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 neighbours understand and practise this, as other parts of their 
 theatrical business. 
 
 " But I never saw French rehearsals more careful and thorough 
 than those of my play at Sadler's Wells under Phelps. He had some- 
 thing of the irritability of Macready, and was not slow to give stupid, 
 or, still more, careless people the rough side of his tongue ; but his 
 heart was so evidently in his work, he was so thoroughly master of 
 the business he was directing, he so evidently thought of and for all, 
 never sacrificing other scenes to his own, or other actors to himself, 
 that his little ruggednesses and fiercenesses never rankled, and were 
 rarely resented even at the moment. Then his example of strenuous 
 diligence operated on all about him, and made them attentive and 
 strenuous too in their several degrees, so that no time was lost ; and, 
 though the rehearsals were so strict and elaborate, they took up no 
 more time than more slipsliod ones would have done. In short, 
 rehearsal, as I saw it in the case of my own play at Sadler's Wells, 
 was what rehearsal should be, continuous, well-considered, patient 
 shaping of the play for public performance, in which not merely the 
 groupings and movements of the personages were attended to, but the 
 delivery of every speech watcheti — nay, the emphasis and pronuncia- 
 tion of every Avord noted. There were many Italian names to be 
 delivered, which Phelps was most careful to have rightly pronounced, 
 not let slide in the happy-go-lucky fashion which is the rule, or rather 
 no rule, of tlie average English theatre, where every actor seems at 
 liberty to put his own pronunciation on any word of a foreign 
 language that comes in his part. When the play Avas produced on 
 the 18th October, 1859, after three weeks of patient and laborious 
 rehearsal, more than equivalent to twice as much time less well 
 employed, the good result was apparent in a smooth, level, and satis- 
 factory performance, with no stage hitch in scenery, speech, or move- 
 ment, in which nothing had been left to chance, nothing sacrificed to 
 carelessness. Phelps himself was admirable in the part of Bertuccio, 
 which in the earlier scenes perfectly suited his sardonic and saturnine 
 manner, while in the interview with his daughter it gave scope for 
 that deep and yearning affection beneath the hardness and harshness 
 which made the actor so great in parts like Old Dornton and Job 
 Thornbury, to my mind beyond question his masterpieces ; while in 
 the third act it afforded an opportunity, of which Phelps availed him- 
 self with immense effect, of presenting the cross-currents of many 
 moods and motives— exulting malignancy, snake-like insinuation, 
 anticipated triumph, gratified revenge, passing through many phases 
 of doubt and bewilderment, and culminating in the horrible conviction 
 that Bertuccio has compassed his own child's abduction and dishonour 
 — perhaps death. I have never seen acting more intense than in his 
 desperate attempts to wear the jester's mask, in the hope that it may 
 secure him access to the pavilion in which his daughter is shut up at 
 the mercy of the ruthless Duke, and in danger, besides, of the poison 
 of the jealous Duchess. If ever actor satisfied author, Phelps satisfied
 
 TOM TAYLOR AND THE FOOL'S REVENGE. 249 
 
 me in Bertuccio. I have always thought it his most powerful imper- 
 sonation, though from the great strain it put upon him it soon became 
 too much for his strength, and when I last saw him in the part I was 
 sensible of a "reat falling off. 
 
 " The play was successful, and had a considerable run — such a run, 
 indeed, as at Sadler's Wells, with its public in great measure local, 
 and its habitual, almost nightly, frequenters, was considered qiiite 
 out of the common. After a time it was played, as was usual, Avith 
 other pieces. Twelfth Night was one of them. I remember an 
 amusing incident to which the alternation of The Fool's Revenge with 
 Shakespeare's comedy gave occasion. The friend who told me the 
 story was sitting near a respectable elderly man, who had listened to 
 Twelfth Night with great enjoyment of the rollicking humours of 
 Sir Toby, the shallow conceit of Sir Andrew, and the grave self- 
 satisfaction of IVIalvolio, and had shown such sense of the tender 
 sweetness of Viola, the archness of Maria, and the love-longing of 
 Olivia, as might be expected from any one of a Sadler's Wells audience 
 in those days. But he was apparently one of those who knew no 
 more of Shakespeare than Phelps revealed to him, not one of the many 
 more deeply initiated whom he had sent to the fountain-head of 
 inspiration — Shakespeare himself. Unluckily, he had unwittingly 
 got hold of a bill of the day before, with the announcement of The 
 Fool's Revenge, and thought all the time that he was assisting at 
 my play. At last he turned to my friend : ' Well, I must say it 
 is a clever play — a'most as good as one of the real old uns ; but 
 I don't see why it's called by that name.' My friend, not aware 
 of his neighbour's mistake, and perhaps not exactly seeing himself 
 how the comedy comes to be clu-istened Twelfth Night, did not 
 attempt to enlighten him. At last, in the scene where the Clown, 
 after getting Malvolio shut up as a lunatic, interrogates him through 
 the grating as Sir Topaz, the stranger turned round to my friend, 
 chuckling with an air of immense relief : ' Ah ! he's down on him, 
 ain't hel I see now why they call it The Fool's Revenge.' And then 
 my friend learnt for the first time that his neighbour had sat so far 
 through the Twelfth Night in the quiet conviction that he was 
 assisting at my drama. 
 
 " When I look back on what I then saw of Mr. Phelps's management 
 in action, the enormous labour of his rehearsals, the conscientious 
 thoroughness of his acting, and his abandonment to the passion of 
 his part, his devotion every day and all day long to the labours of 
 his art and the cares of his theatre, I feel I can understand better 
 than those who knew his Avork only in its finished results, as it came 
 before the public eye. what an enormous amount of ]*helps's best life 
 must have been put into the eighteen years of his management of 
 Sadler's Wells. Knowing how much of mental as well as bodily 
 strain those eighteen years' work must have cost liim, I feel how 
 wretchedly inadequate must have been his reward, either in money 
 made, reputation won, or credit and honour given, had it not been for
 
 350 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 the other and incalculably higher rewards derived from love of art, 
 sense of duty fulfilled, and that consciousness of good work done, 
 which is all the sweeter the harder are the conditions of the doing. 
 I have not time or space here to say what I should like to say of 
 the good work done by Phelps at Sadler's Wells. To my mind he 
 stands out as one of the most potent and profitable among the un- 
 recognized and unrewarded civihzers and educators of his time. He 
 brought a noble and admirable form of the art which, above all art, 
 combines all the elements that appeal to the popular imagination 
 within reach of a local public, which had before his time seen that 
 art only in its most debased and coarsest forms ; to say nothing of 
 that larger public which, during the eighteen years between 1844 
 and 1862, found in Sadler's Wells stronger and better served stage 
 food for the eye and mind than they could find in any of the more 
 aristocratic quarters of the town, or any of the more pretentious homes 
 of the drama, during the same period. 
 
 "When the educating and refining influences of the stage, as the 
 great fuser and applier of all the arts, for working on masses as 
 well as on units of mind, coine to be more adequately appreciated 
 than they are, the work done by Phelps at Sadler's Wells in continu- 
 ation of that initiated by Macready at Covent Garden and Drury 
 Lane will have a chance of being fairly estimated." 
 
 E. L. Blanchard also, after Mr. Phelps's death, wrote the 
 following, which appeared in the Era, the Glasgow News, and a 
 Birmingham paper, to all three of which he was a contributor: — 
 
 " No actor — of the present century, at least— has ever passed away 
 leaving so many varied theatrical recollections behind him as Samuel 
 Phelps, around whose grave in Highgate Cemetery assembled yesterday 
 troops of his professional companions, representing all the best theatres 
 in the metropolis, and crowds of personal friends who had happened 
 to survive the man for whom they entertained such strong feelings 
 of regard. Indeed, we should have to go back to the days of Garrick 
 to find his compeer in embodying alike with equal success the con- 
 trasted impersonations of Shakespearean character furnished by no 
 less than thirty-four plays of the national dramatist, all produced in 
 succession by Mr. Phelps during his eighteen years' memorable 
 association with the management of Sadler's Wells. David Garrick 
 never attempted to exhaust the repertory of Shakespeare in this 
 manner, but he succeeded in displaying equal talent in comedy and 
 tragedy ; and no follower of the histrionic art has smce shown more 
 comprehensiveness of power in this respect than the thorough artist 
 whose vivid and varied portraitures can no longer delight the play-goer. 
 To even enumerate the names of the long list of characters played 
 by Mr. Phelps during the half century which commenced with his 
 early experience of an actor's provincial hfe in the York circuit,
 
 E. L. BLANCHARD ON PHELPS. 351 
 
 and closed with his latest performances of Richelieu and Wolsey at 
 the Royal Aquarium Theatre in the spring of the present year, would 
 require not a column of a newspaper, but the pages of a volume. That 
 in some instances the obituary notices have done but scant justice 
 to the vast ability he displayed may be readily explained by the 
 circumstance that few of the critics who saw him in his best days 
 are left alive to repeat the appreciative opinions expressed thirty years 
 ago, at which time the departed actor may be said to have attained 
 the zenith of his histrionic position. It is one of the penalties a 
 pubHc favourite has to pay for the privilege of living on, that each 
 year lessens tlie number of those who can remember the acliievemcnts 
 of other days ; and when the value of a name only is left to be 
 discussed in a play-bill, the measure of approval is very naturally 
 apportioned to the effect produced. A spectator witnessing the decay 
 of that physical power once spoken of as the ground-work of an 
 excellent reputation must hesitate to indorse former opinions. Hence 
 comes disappointment and disparagement, and it is quite possible that 
 the present generation, attracted to the later performances of the actor 
 by the fame he had acquired in his manhood, came occasionally away 
 from the theatre with a doubting faith in the truthfulness of past 
 eulogies. Those who yet survive to tell of the happy intellectual 
 hours they enjoyed at Sadler's Wells during the memorable manage- 
 ment of Messrs. Phelps and Greenwood, from 1841 to 1862, will bear 
 ready testimony to the excellence of impersonations which, both in 
 Tragedy and Comedy, have never been surpassed during the present 
 century. 
 
 " Away from the exercise of the art to which he so earnestly devoted 
 himself, Mr. Phelps was simplj'- to be regarded as a (piiet country 
 gentleman of reserved habits, fond of rural pursuits, addicted to the 
 exercise of the gun and the fishing-rod, and perhaps prouder of his 
 skill with both than of the warmest plaudits of an enthusiastic 
 audience. During the theatrical vacation he was to be found for 
 many successive years at his favourite haunt, the Lion Hotel at 
 Farningham, in Kent, whore he stayed for weeks together to enjoy 
 the pleasure of trout-fishing in the River Darent, which ran its mean- 
 dering course in front of the gardens of the old hostelry. The farmers 
 in the neighbourhood never suspected that a visitor who conversed 
 with them so freely about their crops was at the same time busy in 
 studying the best mode of rendering the next Shakespearean play to 
 be revived on the banks of the New River ; and it is on record that 
 a Kentish yeoman, bringing his family to town for the puri)ose 
 of seeing The Doge of Venice at Drury Lane, and recognizing a 
 famihar voice and manner in the prominent actor, astonished the 
 audience in the midst of the j)Iay by involuntarily exclaimuig — ' JJlest 
 if the Doc/ge isn't the old Farningham fisherman.'"
 
 352 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 From The Theatre, December 1878 : — 
 
 ME. PHELPS AT THE GAIETY.* 
 
 By John Hollingshead. 
 
 " Mr. Phelps's first appearance at the Gaiety Theatre was in the week 
 before Christmas, 1873, when he was engaged to give nine special 
 representations of certain old comedies, in conjunction with Mr. 
 Charles Matthews, Mr. J. L. Toole, Mr. Hermann Vezin, Mr. Lionel 
 Brough, &c. He made his first entry as Dr. Cantwell in The 
 Hypocrite, Mr. Toole playing Mawworm for the first time after a very 
 short period of study, and the rest of the characters being represented 
 by Miss Farren and members of the Gaiety company. This piece 
 was played for six nights to the largest receipts ever known at the 
 theatre, and the following three nights were devoted to Colman's 
 comedy of John Bull, with Mr. Phelps as Job Thornbury, Mr. Toole 
 as Dennis Brulgruddery, Mr. Charles Matthews as the Hon. Tom 
 Shuffleton, Mr. Hermann Vezin as Peregrine, and Mr. Lionel Brough 
 as Dan, supported by the general company. The receipts were equally 
 great for these three nights, and the orchestra was utilized for extra 
 stalls. Mr. Phelps, unlike Mr. Charles Matthews, did not consider 
 himself injured by appearing in this combination, and this short 
 preliminary engagement was the forerunner of many others, which 
 were equally pleasant and profitable to both of us. As in Mr. Charles 
 Matthews's case, there were no written agreements between us, but 
 we perfectly understood each other's views ; and from December 
 1873, to the day of Mr. Phelps's lamented death, he considered him- 
 self more or less engaged to me, and never thought of any public 
 appearance without coming to consult me. At first I used his invalu- 
 able services at my Saturday matinees, and at these he played a 
 number of his best comedy parts, intermixed with Cardinal Wolsey 
 and Shylock. He avoided Sir Pertinax ISIacsycophant for nearly four 
 years, and I never pressed him to play it. He told me he thought it 
 was the most trying part in the whole range of the British drama, and 
 when he felt physically equal to it he would let me know. The time 
 came at last, after one of his long fishing holidays, and the result was 
 a very fine performance of his great comic masterpiece. 
 
 " When Mr. Toole went to America in 1874, and I had the amphi- 
 theatre in Holborn and the Opera Comique in the Strand under my 
 direction, in addition to the Gaiety, I was enabled to offer Mr. Plielps 
 a night engagement at the Gaiety. "We produced The Merry Wives 
 of Windsor at Christmas, 1874, with scenery by Mr. Grieve, and 
 original music by Arthur Sullivan. Mr. Phelps played Falstaff, and 
 associated with him in the cast were Mr. Hermann Vezin, INIr. Arthur 
 Cecil, Mr. Eighton, Mr. J. G. Taylor, Mr. Belford (one of his old 
 
 * This article also is reprinted from Tlie Theatre by express permission of 
 Mr. Clement Scott.— W. M. P.
 
 JOHN HOLLINGSHEAD ON PHELPS. 353 
 
 Sadler's AVells company), ^h: Forbes-Robertson, Miss EurtaJo, ^Nliss 
 Eose Leclerq, and Mrs. John Wood. Probably the most pleasant 
 member of the company was Mr. Phelps. He had an amiable faculty ' 
 of ' making himself at home.' When lie first joined the regular 
 Gaiety company — a company not generally associated with the so- 
 called ' legitimate drama ' — he behaved as if he had been amongst 
 them all his life ; §nd with the company mentioned above — sonie of 
 them specially engaged for The JMerry Wives of Windsor — he was 
 soon on the very best of terms. Instead of sitting in state in his 
 dressing-room, he passed much of his time in the green-room, and 
 entered into all the little amusements of the place in the most pleasant 
 manner. Fines Avere instituted to punish those who were found 
 tripping in the text of Shakespeare, and once or twice Mr. Phelps 
 was caught (on evidence probably not very trustworthy), but he paid 
 his fines cheerfully. The money was ultimately spent in a bowl of 
 punch. 
 
 " One result of his Gaiety engagement was, that he was induced to 
 come a little out of his domestic retirement. I persuaded him to 
 become a member of the Garrick Club, and Mr. Arthur Cecil per- 
 suaded him to take a Continental tour, as, with the exception of his 
 visits to Berlin and Dresden, he had never been out of his own 
 country. He was much impressed with Paris and Italy — Avith what 
 he called the ' stage management ' of the brilliant city, and the beauty 
 of the Alpine scenery. 
 
 " He played at the Gaiety during his various engagements, in 
 addition to the parts previously mentioned, Sir Peter Teazle (repeat- 
 edly). Bottom the Weaver, Jaques, Lord Ogleby, Richelieu, &c., &c. 
 His mind was very active, and he Avas ahvays ready to study a new 
 part. At one time he thought of playing Bill Sykes in a proposed 
 version of Oliver TAvist by Mr. AndreAV Halliday. If he had been 
 ten or fifteen years younger he Avould probably have taken a West 
 End theatre, and repeated the ex|)eriment Avhich he carried out so 
 nobly at Sadler's Wells. He had no conservative prejudices against 
 anything new, and the last time he Avas within the Avails of a play- 
 house was at the Gaiety Theatre." 
 
 On the next page Avill be found a tribute to Mr. Phelps's 
 memory, penned by an ardent admirer, who saw him in every 
 character he performed from the year 1849 onwards, and which 
 was forwarded to us some months after the first announcement 
 that this Avork Avas forthcoming appeared in tlie Vuili/ Aktcs. 
 
 A A
 
 354 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 SAMUEL PHELPS. 
 
 "The last of all the Romans." 
 
 No sculptured marble marks his lowly gr^ive ; 
 
 No bay-tree from his ashes springs to light ; 
 
 Yet — in our Memory locked — for ever bright 
 
 Lives on that Spirit ; lofty, pure, and brave, 
 
 Austerely tender and too proud to crave 
 
 By outward sign the Fame that was his right. 
 
 But myriad hearts recall his scenic might, 
 
 Whose voice could call Melpomene from her cave, 
 
 Or light Thalia's tripping steps could guide. 
 
 Read here the list of what his genius wrought, 
 
 Stately or quaint, each to the Gods allied. 
 
 Each with our Shakespeare's deathless essence fraught, — 
 
 And say what tomb fair-decked with scroll and frieze • 
 
 Would be memorial due to claims like these. 
 
 Stem Timon's scorn — Armado's antic port, 
 
 Sir John's bluff wit — Coriolanus' pride, 
 
 Lear's tortured heart, and Hamlet's brooding thought, 
 
 Machete's despair — old Shallow^' s senile whim, 
 
 And Prospero's calm power lived in him ; 
 
 Shylock's revengeful craft — Malvolio's smile, 
 
 High Brutus' honour — base Iago's guile, 
 
 Parolles' pretence — Richard's malignity, 
 
 Pericles' grief, and Wolsey's majesty, 
 
 Mercutio's gallant jibes, and Bottom's drawl, 
 
 Antony's triumph and his direful fall, 
 
 Othello's trance, and Sly's bemuddled brain, 
 
 Frenzied Leontes— John, to Guilt the thrall, 
 
 Northumbrian Percy with the spur of flame, 
 
 PosTHUMUS, trustless in his gentle Dame, 
 
 Harry the Fifth — his Sire, wise in vain. 
 
 And cynic Jaques ; — he fulfilled them all : 
 
 All golden links of a Shakespearean chain 
 
 Such as our eyes shall never see again ! 
 
 W. J. C.
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE WITH BENJAMIN WEBSTER. 
 
 Theatre Boyal, Haymarket, 
 Jidy'bth, 1837. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 The great success of The Bridal has completely 
 puzzled me as to fixing date for your appearance, as it will be 
 politic for me to get Macready to renew for a short time, a point 
 which I have not settled yet. However, if it meets your views, 
 we will decide on the 28th of August or the 4th of September 
 next for your first appearance, and I will do all required in the 
 way of announcement. Yours truly, 
 
 S. Phelps, Esq. B. Webster. 
 
 Theatre Royal, Haymarket, 
 July 20th, 1837. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 Will you let me know the three parts you wish 
 to open in ? I shall expect you at the end of August, when I 
 hope we shall have a prosperous result. 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 S. Phelps, Esq. B. Webster. 
 
 Theatre Royal, Exeter, 
 July 25ih, 1837. 
 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 I have delayed answering your last, having in the 
 interim written to a friend in London, asking a few questions. 
 I have just received his reply. He tells me he is not " fearful 
 for the issue," provided I appear under something like favour- 
 able auspices; but that after Macready's run — coming almost 
 at the end of your season, and just before the commencement 
 at the other houses — proba])ly in the midst of your benefits — 
 the improbability of its being worth your while, under such 
 circumstances, to engage me even in the event of my success — 
 ho thinks I am trusting that to chance which at another time 
 might be made a certainty. I would feel obliged by your 
 
 A A 2
 
 356 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 candid opinion on the above view of the case. In the event 
 of my coming to town, I would wish to avoid touching (at 
 present) any of Macready's well-known and all- recognized parts. 
 I have been most successful in some parts of the late Kean's 
 which Macready, I think, has not played much, especially 
 Shylock and Richard, with Sir Edward Mortimer, &c., though 
 my way of acting them is wholly and totally different from 
 Kean's or any other person's. I should like to open in Shylock. 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 B. Webster, Esq. S. Phelps. 
 
 Theatre Royal, Haifinarkd, 
 July 26th, 1837. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 On the faith of your letter I have underlined you 
 for more than a week past. As regards playing you in the 
 midst of benefits, or bringing you up at the end of my season, 
 that is not my mode of acting, and whoever informed you so was 
 not in any way warranted in making such an assertion, con- 
 sidering I can continue my season to the 15th January, 1838, 
 and commence again on the loth March followinnf. I shall 
 announce you to-morrow for Shylock, and wishing you every 
 success, I remain, Yours truly, 
 
 S. Phelps, Esq. B. Webster. 
 
 LETTERS FROM W. C. MACREADY. 
 
 8, Kent Terrace, Regent's Park, 
 London, July I8th, 1837. 
 
 My Dear Wightwick, 
 
 Will you excuse the trouble I am seeking to 
 impose on you, and the hurried manner in which I do it ? Some 
 time since I received a Plymouth paper with a criticism upon 
 the performance of a gentleman who rejoices in the name of 
 Phelps ; other accounts that I have had represent him very 
 favourably. As it is not improbable I may have some concern 
 in the direction of one of the Winter Theatres next season, I 
 should very much wish to concentrate all the talent that can 
 be brought together, and I am very desirous of having your 
 opinion, which I so highly value, upon the merits of this gentle- 
 man. You will perceive by the papers that I am enjoying 
 this "warm Tragedy weather" in the oven of the Haymarket ; 
 the adaptation of Beaumont and Fletcher's tragedy has been
 
 LETTERS. 357 
 
 quite a success. A few weeks ago I was very sorry to hear that 
 Mrs. Wightwick had been so serious an invalid. I sincerely 
 hope that her health is re-established — will you, with my very 
 kind regards, say as much to her ? When is your journey to 
 town to take place ? With every kind wish, believe me as 
 always most sincerely yours, 
 
 W. C. Macready. 
 
 P.S. — Mr. Phelps is going to act at the Haymarket, when I 
 shall see him ; but I am anxious for your opinion. 
 
 8, Kent Terrace, Regent's Park, 
 July SOth, 1837. 
 
 My Dear Wightwick, 
 
 I thank you very much for your letter, which I 
 have had no minute to acknowledo;e before. I should be 
 suspected of aping Mr. Dowling in Tom Jones if I were to 
 attempt to describe to you how my leisure is taken from me. 
 I work hard now in the hope that by getting ahead of my 
 labour I may cease to feel its pressure as I do. Mr. Phelps is 
 engaged to make his aj^pearance at the Haymarket — to act three 
 characters, and upon his success to receive an engagement there. 
 I am much interested in the event, and shall be truly happy to 
 foster and watch over the development of his talent, should he 
 need such a professional friend ; but I hope he is moderate in 
 his expectations of remuneration, for ours is now a struggle for 
 existence, not for profit, and every salary on our establishment 
 is largely, but willingly reduced. I should like much to know 
 what is his aim in coming to town : whether he has the " aut 
 Cgesar, aut nuUus " views of vounc^ Kean, or a resolution, in the 
 love of his art, to study and toil for perfection in it. If I have 
 the pleasure of any dealings with him, you may be sure that I 
 shall be more than just to his deserts from the interest that you 
 have evinced in him. Most cordially do I wish him success, 
 and that he may add another actor to our scanty muster-roll. 
 We are "progressing" very well here — the many as well as 
 myself. With kindest regards to Mrs. Wightwick, and when 
 you see my excellent friend Colonel Hamilton Smith, with 
 earnest remembrances to him, believe me, dear Wightwick, 
 always and sincerely yours, 
 
 W. C. Macready.* 
 
 * I am indebted to my friend Mr. E. Y. T>o\vne for copies of tliese two 
 letterH from Mr. Macready to Mr. Wi^^litwick, as well astliat from Mr. I'liolps 
 to Mr. Webster — the originals of which are in his po.-.sessioii. — W. M. 1'.
 
 358 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE WITH W. C. MACREADY. 
 
 Eose Cottage, King's Road, Chehea, 
 February 1842. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 Pray imagine I have said everything that can 
 possibly apologize for troubling you. Kindness already received 
 at your hands I feel should rather deter than induce my 
 soliciting an extension of it. I have for some years had a 
 severe struggle to keep my head above water; but have at 
 length some prospect of being able to hold it there if the 
 assistance I am about to ask from you will not be tasking your 
 good feeling beyond what you may consider yourself justified 
 in granting. For the sake of my young and increasing family 
 I wish to etfect an insurance on my life for £1000. The policy 
 thereon I would lodge with you as security in the event of 
 death ; at the same time leaving in your hands a sufficient sum 
 for the periodical payment at the insurance office, together with 
 £5 weekly this season, and £7 next, for the hquidation of and 
 interest on the sum of (I almost fear to name it) £300,* a great 
 part of which I require to pay off a loan contracted on my first 
 coming to London — to avoid the horror of taking the benefit of 
 the Insolvent Act — at an interest of 45 per cent. The principal 
 I am now called on to pay, and dread the sacrifice of nearly 
 £400 worth of furniture, &c. ; and worse than that, the disgrace 
 of figuring as an insolvent after having endured a great deal 
 to avoid it, and being willing to endure a great deal more. If you 
 feel justijied in granting my request I am certain you will do 
 so ; if not I am equally certain your reasons will be such as to 
 prevent any mortification I might feel from refusal. 
 
 I am, my dear Sir, 
 
 Yours respectfully and obliged, 
 
 W. C. Macready, Esq. S. Phelps. 
 
 5, Clarence Terrace, Regent's Park, 
 July 30th, 1843. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 I expected to have heard from you on Thursday 
 last. Will you let me know if you have abandoned all idea 
 of a voyage, or if you wish to see me again upon the subject ? 
 
 * The favour asked was granted in the most handsome manner possible. 
 For a copy of this letter, and copies of five others of Mr. Phelps's in 
 this correspondence, I am indebted to the kindness of Jonathan Macready, 
 Esq., F.R.C.S.— W. M. P.
 
 LETTERS. 359 
 
 I am concluding the arrangements with the New York 
 manager. Yours, my dear Sir, 
 
 Very truly, 
 
 S. Phelps, Esq. W. C. Macready. 
 
 5, Clarence Terrace, JReqeid's Park, 
 February 28th, 1848. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 I enclose you a notice I have cut out of the Plymouth 
 Times to draw your attention to the theatrical doings in the 
 West,* which perhaps may lead you to a negotiation with the 
 talented author. There is no hope for anything at the Princess's, 
 and I am sick of any attempt to move the manager of it to 
 proper exertions. Yours very faithfully, 
 
 S. Phelps, Esq. W. C. Macready. 
 
 5, Clarence Terrace, Regeid's Park, 
 June 26th, 1848. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 You will perceive in this day's announcements, that 
 Her Majesty commands (and I ought to say in the kindest and 
 most considerate manner) a performance at Drury Lane Theatre 
 for my benefit, the last but one I shall ever take in London, on 
 Monday, July 10th. 
 
 On this occasion may I calculate upon the contribution of 
 your valuable aid ? — and, if so, will you oblige me by performing 
 King Henry in the three first acts of King Henry VIIL, and 
 Major Oakley in The Jealous Wife ? 
 
 I need scarcely add that I shall consider myself greatly 
 obliged by your acquiescence in my request ; but I may beg to 
 intimate my conviction that the committee will be happy to 
 meet your views in any arrangement you may desire. 
 1 remain, my dear Sir, 
 
 Very faithfully yours, 
 S. Phelps, Esq. W. C. Macready. 
 
 8, Canonhvry Square, Tslinqton, 
 June 2Uth, 1848. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 I have but this moment (four o'clock) received your 
 note, the contents of which have afforded me great pleasure. 
 
 • Production of Richard Coeur de Lion, a new play by Mr. Wiglitwick. 
 — W. M. V.
 
 360 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 I will study King Henry : Major Oakley, I believe, I have acted, 
 and am most happy in being able to place my poor services at 
 your disposal. 
 
 I am, my dear Sir, 
 
 Yours faithfully and obliged, 
 
 W. C. Macready, Esq. Samuel Phelps. 
 
 5, Clarence Terrace, Regenfs Park, 
 June 2Qth, 1848. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 I am this moment in receipt of your very kind 
 note, and lose no time in acknowledging in the warmest manner 
 your truly graceful and obliging manner of complying with my 
 request. " Bis dat, qui cito dat ; " and I have the most sincere 
 pleasure in thanking 3'ou most earnestly and heartily for the 
 very valuable service your esteemed note has rendered me. 
 Yours, my dear Sir, 
 
 Much obliged and very sincerely, 
 
 S. Phelps, Esq. W. C, Macready. 
 
 21, Suffolk Street, Pall Mall East, 
 January 30th, 185 L 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 Mr. Forster has communicated to me the contents 
 of a letter received from you, in which you tell him that you 
 will have pleasure in assisting in the performances for my 
 parting benefit. 
 
 Let me assure you that I have been generally indifferent 
 to the proffer of aid on this occasion ; but I am sincerely 
 gratified by the expression of such kindly sentiments /ro???- ycm, 
 and shall be most happy in thinking you wish to be associated 
 with my last performance, as I reflect with unmingled satis- 
 faction on the seasons wherein your talent and sei vices were 
 of so much value to me. I have watched with great interest 
 and pleasure the consistent and honourable course you have 
 pursued in your own theatre, and have rejoiced in the success 
 that has justly attended it, and the reputation it has obtained 
 for you. You will not therefore be surprised when I assure 
 you of the peculiar pleasure I have in thanking you for, 
 and in accepting your services, for the night of Wednesday, 
 February 19th.
 
 LETTERS. 361 
 
 I act Macbeth, and shall hope to see you once more resume 
 on that evening the part of Macduff. 
 
 Believe me, my dear Sir, 
 
 Yours most sincerely, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq, W. C. Macready. 
 
 21, Siiffolk Street, Pall Mall East, 
 
 ]\Iy Dear Mr. Phelps, February loth, 1851. 
 
 Several persons, on the occasion of my retirement, 
 have asked me for little professional memorials. I cannot say 
 that I myself attach any value to these things, and probably 
 you look on them as indifferently as I do. Regarding you, 
 however, as my rightful successor in the part of Richelieu, I 
 have long intended to request, when I ceased to act it, that you 
 would wear, on the occasions of your own performance of the 
 character, the cross of the Order of the Holy Ghost, which I 
 have invariably used, 
 
 I must beg to use this occasion of thanking you, which I do 
 most sincerel}^ and earnestly, for your most kind and liberal offer 
 of your company to perform on the night of my benefit. 
 
 I feel deeply obliged by the considerate and generous inten- 
 tion, and shall always retain a warm sense of the obligation. 
 Believe me to remain, 
 
 My dear Sir, most sincerely yours, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq, W. C. Macready. 
 
 8, Canonhury Sqtiare, Islington, 
 My Dear Sir, February Vlth, 1851. 
 
 You have given a high value to a memorial which, 
 had it been granted at my own request, would have possessed 
 comparatively little. My gratification at receiving it is greatly 
 increased, too, as it gives me an opportunity of saying how much 
 I am indebted to my four years' professional connection with 
 you — of assuring you that the important service rendered at 
 an eventful period of my life has never been forgotten, and that 
 all the members of my family are likely to recollect you not 
 only as a great actor but a good man. 
 
 That for many years you may be enabled to say " Beatus 
 ille qui procul negotiis " is the sincere wish of. 
 
 My dear Sir, 
 
 Yours very faithfully, 
 W. C. Macready, Esq. Samuel Phelps.
 
 362 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 8, Canonhury Square, Islington, 
 July 2lst, 1853. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 I have within these few days been inexpressibly 
 shocked by hearing from her husband the sad recital of Mrs. 
 Warner's sufferings in America, and her present melancholy 
 condition. During the period of, and since, my business con- 
 nection with her, I have held in the highest respect and esteem 
 her fine womanly character; indeed, before her departure for the 
 United States I had regarded her with almost the affection of a 
 brother. Not until yesterday could I nerve myself to see her ; — 
 the interview I shall never forget ; she looks death in the face 
 with the meekness of a Christian and the courage of a hero — as 
 beautiful in face as ever ; talked of her approaching end with- 
 out a tremor ; told me what a load of parental care you had 
 generously eased her of (God bless you for it !) ; then hoped that 
 our future meetings would be regarded as preparatory of her 
 return to America, and kept me listening more than an hour 
 while she related anecdotes of her late experiences there. 
 
 Although she said but little on the subject, I am certain 
 that a necessity exists for increasing her pecuniary means. A 
 benefit night at Drury Lane instantly suggested itself to me, and 
 I lose no time in asking your opinion on the subject, and begging 
 also the assistance of your advice. How should it be announced 
 to the public, &c. ? 
 
 I am sure, my dear Sir, you will pardon my troubling you. 
 Knowing somewhat of your regard for Mrs. Warner, I have not 
 hesitated to do so. I conceive that whatever is done should 
 take place immediately, as the London season is drawing to a 
 close. 
 
 I hope you will not deem it an impertinence if I say how 
 deeply I have sympathized with you under your bereavement, 
 and that I am, 
 
 My dear Sir, 
 
 Ever gratefully and faithfully yours, 
 W. C. Macready, Esq. Samuel Phelps. 
 
 Sherborne, Dorset, July 22nd, 1853. 
 
 My Dear Mr. Phelps, 
 
 I thank you most earnestly and cordially for your 
 kind letter, for your truly friendly expressions of feeling towards 
 myself, and for affording me the opportunity of lending my
 
 LETTERS. 363 
 
 weak co-operation to your benevolent intentions in the case 
 of poor dear Mrs. Warner. I was not aware that there was 
 any immediate pressure of pecuniary necessity, and again I 
 thank you for apprising me of it, and most happy am I to offer 
 such suggestions as may arise to me, and to do my httle in 
 furthering any plan you may adopt. A benefit seems the only 
 effectual mode of collecting such an amount as would be of real 
 service ; but the time of the year is against it, as was urged by 
 Mr, Forster in a letter to me some days ago. Still a great 
 attraction, supporting the interest of the occasion, may — might — 
 fill the theatre. If it could be delayed to the return of people 
 to London, I should look to the result with greater confidence ; 
 but then there is the question, to which I could not even allude 
 in my letters, of the probability of her life's duration. Mr. 
 Dickens and Mr. Forster are both out of town — Mr. Forster 
 himself ill ; and in these two the most active and influential 
 promoters of such a measure are lost to the cause. It seems to 
 me, therefore, that in an immediate appeal (and every day lost 
 now is a subtraction from the chances of success) the ground 
 of hope is in the amount of attraction. If you could combine 
 in a bill all the available names (as was done for the Shake- 
 speare House), a short Lyceum piece, a short Adelphi piece, 
 a Shakespearean selection, with yourself, backed by the elite 
 of the Haymarket and some from the Princess's — in short, an 
 omniiim gatheruiix of theatrical talent, and what vocal aid you 
 may be able to win over — the season of the year would not 
 signify. But to manage this requires time, or such energy as 
 may supply its want. Is it practicable ? Actors used to be 
 difficult of combination. I should be thankful you might find 
 it otherwise. Would you object to form a committee of the 
 managers of the theatres — Mr. Webster, Mr. Buckstone, ^Ir. C. 
 Kean ? I should question Mr. C. Matthews — or Mr. Farren. 
 But if the three above-named would unite with you in the 
 attempt, there would be no doubt, I should supj^ose, of your 
 success. I will write by this day's post to Mr. Webster in 
 general terms upon the subject, and endeavour to awaken his 
 interest in it. If you and he were to address the other two, 
 I do not think they would refuse co-operation. But pray 
 understand that I offer these sutjjTestions with sincere deference 
 to your better judgment, acquainted as you must be so much 
 better than myself with the probabilities and objections to 
 my views. There would be no false delicacy, I am sure, on 
 the part of Mrs. Warner to a proper ay)peal at the head 
 of such an announcement, and it would be greatly to the
 
 364 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 credit of the theatrical character to find unanimity in such 
 a cause. 
 
 My hest interest I am reserving to try to make it bear upon 
 the arrangements for the children's education : but when you 
 have decided on any step respecting this benefit you will not 
 fail to apprise me, that I may stir the one or two friends, who 
 may be likely to respond to my call, in its favour. 
 
 I cannot close my letter without repeating to you, my dear 
 Sir, the satisfaction, sad as the occasion is, that I have had in 
 hearing from you. Your feelings do you honour, and their 
 expression gratifies me more than words can convey, in proving 
 to me that I have not been mistaken in my estimate of your 
 character. I hope you may find, if it should seem advisable to 
 urge on the benefit, coadjutors worthy of you. 
 
 You are aware probably what an out-of-the-way place this 
 is in which I live ; but let me have the pleasure of adding, that 
 if ever your journeyings should lead you sufiiciently near to 
 tempt you to make your way through it, it would afford me the 
 greatest gratifieation to see you at my retired and old-fashioned 
 home. Believe me to remain, with sentiments of deep regard, 
 
 Most sincerely yours, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq. . W. C, Maceeady.- 
 
 Sherborne House, Slierborne, Dorset, 
 November 16th, 1853. 
 
 My Dear Mr. Phelps, 
 
 Most readily will I do what you require in the 
 case of our poor dear friend, and .most heartily do 1 wish 
 that it was in my power further to relieve you in those offices, 
 which, like the good Samaritan, you leave your own business to 
 perform for others. I write by this post to Mr. Mitchell, JMr. 
 Webster, and Mr. Buckstone. I hope the Covent Garden and 
 Drury Lane contributions were not paid. * * * j 
 cannot say that I am able to regard the intervention of that 
 lady and her husband as in any way a benefit to the necessities 
 of poor Mrs. Warner, No subscriptions have been obtained by 
 them that loould not have been obtained in regular cotirse ; and 
 their obstruction to the benefit has been in my judgment an 
 injury that no individual exertions could compensate. I lament 
 it most deeply as a present loss, and for the surplus it would 
 have given to the children. Besides wliich, it would have been 
 an advertisement to the subscription ! — But it is gone ! Should
 
 LETTERS. 365 
 
 not the furniture — or hill of sale for the same — be put into your 
 hands, as a security for the children on their poor mother's 
 death ? You will not omit to take care of this. 
 
 All that vou have done seems to me most ricjht, and dictated 
 by the most prudent and kindly spirit, 
 
 ******* 
 
 I am truly concerned that you should have been thus annoyed, 
 and your time, which must be so heavily pressed upon, thus 
 distressingly engrossed. My own subscription for Ellen Warner 
 was stopped by the public one, and some moneys intended for 
 me, and got by my application, paid into the general account ; 
 but I wish that were the worst to be complained of. I have 
 no doubt Mitchell will pay over his amount, which I hope will 
 put you at ease on the matter. Do not spare to write to me 
 on anything that I can do to spare you pain or expedite the 
 performance of what you may wish. 
 
 I cannot close my hasty letter without adverting to a more 
 pleasing subject. I was in truth delighted to read in the 
 Uxamincr and other papers the just tribute to your taste and 
 skill in the production of Shakespeare's beautiful Fairy Dream, 
 and the encomiums passed upon your critical and humorous 
 representation of the Athenian Weaver. li gave me more 
 pleasure than I can possibly describe to you, for I felt it was 
 truly deserved. I have never considered the poem capable of 
 perfect realization on the stage ; but ALL that could be done with 
 it by a poetical conception of its requirements, you have done. 
 How heartily I rejoice in your success I need not add, nor how 
 glad I was to hear of the " ragged toils," &c., at Windsor. 
 
 Always most sincerely yours, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq. W. C. Macready. 
 
 Bonchurc.h, laJc of Wight, 
 September 2"th, 1854. 
 
 My Dear Mr. Phelps, 
 
 The mournful news of the release of our poor dear 
 friend you will already have been made acquainted with ; and, I 
 fear, have been subjected to some annoyance on the matter of 
 our late corres))ondence. 
 
 It is probable a letter from you may be awaiting me at 
 home, whither I return to-morrow ; but upon the receipt of this 
 niorniriir's intelli'ience I write to observe that this sad event 
 must, 1 suppose, render it necessary for you to pay over the
 
 366 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 proceeds of the benefit to Mr. Warner — to meet the expenses of 
 the funeral, &c. 
 
 The bill of sale of the furniture belongs to the committee, 
 and its proceeds must go to the children's support. Upon all 
 this it will be best to have legal advice, which * * * 
 makes absohitely necessary, and therefore it becomes an expense 
 entailed upon the Fund — not by us, but by him. You cannot 
 be too cautious in your proceedings, and I recommend you 
 to ask Mr. Forster and Mr. Dickens for their kind counsel 
 to aid your own judgment; but independently of this I would 
 have regular professional advice to direct and sustain us in 
 what is to be done. I need not repeat my confidence in you, 
 and m}^ regret that I cannot by my presence relieve you from 
 the annoyance of your responsibilities. Believe me to remain, 
 my dear Mr. Phelps, 
 
 Ever your very sincere friend, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq. W. C. Macready. 
 
 Sherborne House, Sherborne, Dorset, ■ 
 October 20th, 1854. 
 
 My Dear Mr. Phelps, 
 
 Most truly do I regret that your benevolence 
 should have brought on you so much trouble and distress of 
 mind as you must feel (I am sure / do) at being in any Avay 
 concerned with affairs that are liable to interference * * * 
 
 * 
 
 All that you can do is, I take it, what / shall do, wash 
 
 YOUR HANDS of all matters in which may be likely 
 
 to have concern. 
 
 * 
 
 I return you your solicitor's letter (having copied it), and 
 should recommend you to direct him to say, that Mr. Phelps 
 and Mr. Macready have both withdrawn from the committee, 
 declining any further concern in the late Mrs. Warner's affairs. 
 I see no other course. Any expense that has been incurred 
 by you in this matter I shall most gladly take my share of. 
 
 Let me now heartily (though hastily) congratulate you on 
 the great success of your Pericles, which I read with great 
 interest in the Times, &c., &c. Dramatically, I did not antici-
 
 LETTERS. 367 
 
 pate very much effect from it ; but you seem to have done all 
 that was to be done. 
 
 ******* 
 
 Earnestly hoping you will soon recover your perfect health, 
 I remain, my dear Mr. Phelps, 
 
 Ever yours very sincerely, 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq. W. C. Macready. 
 
 Sherborne House, Sherborne, Dorset, 
 Febnmry 8, 1857. 
 
 My Dear Mr. Phelps, 
 
 The enclosed letter came here this morninfr. I 
 send it to you without comment, requesting you, when you have 
 read it, to return it to me. 
 
 I take this opportunity of expressing my most earnest hope 
 that fortune is dealing rightly by you, and that the success 
 of the only remaining Shakespearean Theatre is as creditable 
 to its supporters as to its director, . . . 
 
 With my best wishes for all good to yourself and family, 
 I remain, my dear Mr. Phelps, always most sincerely yours, 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq. W. C. Macready. 
 
 8, Canonbury Square, 
 March 6fh, 1857. 
 
 My Best Friend, 
 
 We have all been wishing nightly that we might 
 hear from you in the morning, and now most devoutly trust 
 that the gleam of hope afforded may be fully realized. 
 
 My son has to attend at Somerset House to-morrow with 
 the certificate of his baptism, &c., when he will be told on what 
 day his examination takes place. I would fain ask your advice 
 on a matter in which I am concerned, but forbear to do so until 
 assured that your mind is sufficiently at ease for the admission 
 of trifles. That such may very, 'very soon be the case is the most 
 earnest prayer of 
 
 Yours very faithfully, 
 W. C. Macready, Esq. Samuel Phelps. 
 
 Sherhoriie House, Sherhnrne, Dorset, 
 April 21th, 18J8. 
 
 My Dear Mr. Phelps, 
 
 I have been solicited by a friend, whom I should 
 be glad to serve, on behalf of a young man, a Mr. Morton Jones,
 
 338 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 who is desirous of making the stage his profession. He has 
 made the exjjeriment, but I beheve only as an experiment. 
 He wishes to gain a permanent situation as Walking Gentleman. 
 I am sure if you can oblige me without hurting yourself 
 (which I would on no account have you do) you will. I trust 
 your son is all right, and that the world is using you as well 
 as you deserve. I cannot give you a wish that I think ought 
 to prove a happier one. 
 
 With kind regards to your family, 
 
 I am, my dear Mr, Phelps, 
 
 Always most sincerely yours, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq. W. C. Macready. 
 
 Sherborne, April 30th, 1858. 
 
 My Dear Mr. Phelps, 
 
 I send you this hasty line to assure you of my sincere 
 regret at your illness, and my heartiest wishes for your speedy and 
 comiilcte recovery. Thank you very much for your kind atten- 
 tion to my request ; and pray remember, that that request does 
 not go beyond the fair balance of value and its price. 
 
 Always most cordially yours, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq. W. C. Macready. 
 
 Shtrlorne, Dorset, 
 
 September 2lst, 1859. 
 
 My Dear Mr. Phelps, 
 
 You will be surprised at receiving a line from me. 
 Indeed, my busy retirement leaves me little time for writing, 
 or I think I should have scribbled something on the Mamnioth 
 Humbug that has been lately perpetrated in the testimonial 
 to the Mutilator of Shakespeare, whilst the Illustrator and 
 Restorer of his text has been neglected and ignored. But 
 Humbug has been a god bowed down to by all nations since 
 Adam. I hope, if I live, to see justice yet done to you. 
 
 ^ ^F "^ yf\ tf! yf: 9f 
 
 I only break in upon your active work to say that I hear 
 you have engaged a Miss Hewitt or Hart from the Princess's 
 Theatre, and on behalf of a great friend I write to ask you 
 to render her all the help you may be able to, consistently with 
 the general interests of your establishment, for her advancement 
 and improvement.
 
 LETTERS. 369 
 
 With all the best and most earnest good wishes, which when 
 unuttered are not less truly felt, I remain, 
 My dear Mr. Phelps, 
 
 Always most sincerely yours, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq. W. C. Macreadt. 
 
 8, Canoiibiiry Sqtiare, 
 
 September 2Gth, 1859. 
 
 My Dear Mr. M acre ad y, 
 
 I am sure you will admit " much occupation " as 
 an excuse for my delay in replying to yours of last week. I 
 have engaged from the Princess's Theatre a 3Iiss Heath — is 
 that the lady you mean ? you appear to have written her 
 name in doubt. I have no other lady from the same theatre, 
 therefore conclude it must be she ; but should like to be 
 certain. 
 
 I have just entered upon the sixteenth year of my theatrical 
 management, and begin to despair of attracting more notice 
 than I have done — little enough, you'll say. Fear of failure, 
 the dread of the Insolvent Court, &c., has prevented my doing 
 what a bolder man would have done — taken a better theatre, 
 gone into the world, and acted off the stage. I have never for 
 one moment relaxed in my endeavours; have stuck unflinch- 
 ingly to a " system " ; but have found nothing increase but my 
 expenses. I begin to fear the cause is in myself: * public opinion 
 is said to be generally right, and I suppose I have not in me 
 the elements to command success ; nevertheless, I shall perse- 
 vere to the end. I am quite sure I have done some good, and 
 think I have disciplined myself to bear a good deal without 
 grumbling. 
 
 I do not know any one thing that affords me more pleasure 
 than a letter from you. I should frequently have written to 
 ask your opinion or advice ; but fear of intruding upon your 
 quiet has prevented my sending letters even after they have 
 
 * Just like him : modest to a degree wlien speaking of himself; tliough 
 no one knew better than he did how he stood witli the public; but he 
 would never parade it even to a close friend. But the non-success lie 
 hints at was of a pecuniary nature. On the opening of the theatre under 
 his sole management — the third season — he had tlie boxes divided into 
 front and back, and for the front seats (the dress circle) he charged one 
 shilling more than for the back ones ; anri, as I often told him, he ought to 
 have done the same with the pif and gallery, which would have given him 
 £45 more per night, and then his j)riceR, »11 round, would have been lower 
 than those at the llaymarket and I'rincess's. — W. M. 1'. 
 
 U li
 
 370 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 "been written. I sincerely hope that your health is good ; and 
 that it may continue so for many years is the earnest wish of, 
 my dear Mr. Macready, 
 
 Yours very faithfully, 
 W. C. Macready, Esq. S. Phelps. 
 
 Sherborne, Dorset, 
 
 September 21th, 1859. 
 
 My Dear Mr. Phelps, 
 
 Excuse the haste in which I write. The lady's 
 name must be Heath. I know that my mention of her would 
 incline the balance in her favour in any doubtful question, and 
 I think you know I would not ask any favour incompatible 
 with the interest of your establishment. In regard to your 
 public career you have had to encounter an unusually energetic 
 scheme of quackery. 
 
 ****** 
 
 Pray write to me whenever you think my opinion may at all 
 be of service. I have great pleasure in the mere attempt to 
 assist you. 
 
 It has just occurred to me, Would the production of Wallen- 
 stein serve you ? If it would, I should be well content to risk 
 its production, leaving the question of any remuneration entirely 
 to its chance of great success. If it did not prove a great gain 
 to the theatre, I should be content with the mere assurance 
 that it had proved a little one to you. If it turned out a trump 
 card, I should not decline some consideration for my labour. 
 I think it would interest the literary and the dramatic world. 
 Think of it. Nothing is lost if nothing comes of it. 
 
 Ever yours most sincerely, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq. W. C. Macready. 
 
 6, Welli'n.gton Square, Cheltenham, 
 July 22nd, 1867. 
 
 My Dear Mr. Phelps, 
 
 I cannot pass by the sad announcement that I read 
 this morning in the obituary of the Times, without offering you 
 the assurance of my sincere sympathy and condolence. Few 
 friends are now left to me, and with those gone, the health 
 which I once enjoyed has in great measure left me too. It is 
 therefore more with sorrow than surprise that I read these 
 mournful intimations of the mortality around us. Let me, 
 however, at least avail myself of this melancholy opportunity
 
 LETTERS. ' 37 1 
 
 to wish you all the blessings that the world may yet have in 
 its gift for you and yours; and believe me, my dear Mr. Phelps, 
 to remain, Your very true friend, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq. W. C. Macready. 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE WITH JOHN FORSTER. 
 
 58, Lincohi^s Inn Fields, 
 Monday, July 1846. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 I am anxious to see your Henry IV., and though 
 I fear I may be obliged to leave early, shall go to Sadler's 
 Wells this evening. Will you be kind enough, if you have a 
 private box disengaged, to allow me to occupy it ? Do not 
 trouble yourself to answer this letter. I shall take it for granted 
 that, if able to do so, you will comply with my request. 
 
 I wish to see you in the course of the week on Sir E. B. L.'s 
 matter. , Ever sincerely yours, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq. John Forster. 
 
 February 20th, 1847. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 Now that some part of your late labours and 
 anxieties (on the result of which I most heartily congratulate 
 you) is over, I am anxious to have some conversation with you 
 on one or two points that have occurred to me in connection 
 with Sir E. B. Lytton. Time is somewhat of an object with 
 me, and I should be obliged if you could call here on Monday, 
 letween 11 cmd 12; always supposing that it is not inconvenient 
 for you to do so. Yours, &c., 
 
 John Forster. 
 
 August 26th, 1847. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 Will you oblige me with a box to-night, if not 
 inconvenient to you ? I wish to see your Gymbeline. 
 
 Yours, &c., 
 
 John Forster. 
 ii n 2
 
 372 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 August 28th, 1847. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 I cannot help troubling you with this brief word 
 of thanks for the box you placed at my disposal the other night 
 — that I may add how sincerely I was gratified by the present- 
 ation of Cymbeline. Admirable taste, as it seemed to me, and 
 thorough knowledge of the poet's intention, were throughout 
 apparent. I have not, for a considerable time, had so much 
 pleasure in an English theatre. Let me add that Mr. Dickens, 
 who accompanied me, was equally delighted with myself. I 
 must congratulate you on your audience, too. They seem to 
 have formed themselves into a police for security of their 
 own enjoyment, and nothing can be more marked than their 
 intelligent appreciation. Yours, &c., 
 
 John Forster. 
 
 September 14th, 1847. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 You will much oblige me by placing a private box 
 for to-night at the disposal of my young friend. Sir Edward B. 
 Lytton's son, the bearer of this. Should this note not reach 
 you at the theatre, I will tell him to venture to present him- 
 self with his friends at the theatre in the evening- — being sure 
 that your kindness will somehow provide for him. 
 
 Ever yours, &c., 
 
 John Forster. 
 
 58, LincohCs Inn Fields, 
 Saturday, October 1847. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 I wish to see your Macbeth on Monday night, and 
 to bring my friend Mr. Talfourd and some of his family to see 
 it. Will you be kind enough to place a private box at my 
 disposal for this purpose ? Yours ever, &c., 
 
 John Forster. 
 
 October 27th, 1847. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 I have received the enclosed from Sir E. B. Lytton, 
 and think it best to send it to you. 
 
 Perhaps you would kindly have a fresh copy taken of the 
 (Edipus. When you have an hour's leisure, we could then 
 determine something finally respecting it, or resolve on the 
 substitution of something for it.
 
 LETTERS. 373 
 
 As for what is due on The Lady of Lyons, I take it to be not 
 much ; but perhaps you will, at your convenience, forward it. 
 
 Mr. Greenwood's last payment to me was on the 7th January 
 (£85 Is. — including every performance up to that day inclusive). 
 With best wishes, 
 
 Believe me, my dear Sir, very sincerely yours, 
 
 58, Lincoln's Inn Fields. JOHN FORSTER. 
 
 January 29</i., 1848. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 I am a petitioner to your always ready kindness for 
 a private box to-night. I wish to see Twelfth Night myself, 
 and to bring Mr. Macready's son, who has never seen a 
 Shakesjjeare play, to enjoy what I am sure will be an intellectual 
 presentment of one of Shakespeare's most charming comedies. 
 
 Do not answer my note. I shall take it for granted — if I do 
 not hear from you — that I may come. 
 
 Yours, my dear Sir, always most sincerely, 
 
 John Forster. 
 
 November 4th, 1848. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 I have not written to you, for I hoped to have been 
 able to go over and see you. 
 
 But you must not run wholly away from your promise to 
 come and have a chop and a talk with me, any evening that 
 will suit you best. 
 
 Pray write and tell me which, next week, will be most con- 
 venient. I shall be most glad to see you. 
 
 Always sincerely yours, 
 58, Lincoln's InnFields. JOHN FORSTER. 
 
 November 1th, 1848. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 Don't forget to name some early day — you cannot 
 say too soon — for our meeting here. 
 
 It is, however, of another matter I now write to you. 
 
 A friend, Mr. G. H. Lewes, has written to ask me so far to 
 interest you in a play of his as to get your permission that he 
 may read it to you. Any day but Thursday would suit him, 
 and any hour. He would attend such a])pointmont as you 
 found it convenient to make with him, at the theatre.
 
 374 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 May I so far trespass on your kindness, and your custom ? — 
 for I feel it would be an awkward precedent, and bring down 
 a world of ambitious spouters on you — if ever known ! 
 
 But Mr. Lewes is a very able person, certainly, and though 
 I have not seen this play I have heard earnest accounts of it 
 from competent people, and it may turn out to be well enough 
 worth this trial at any rate.* 
 
 If you will say any day and hour, I will communicate it at 
 once to Mr. Lewes, and he will be certain to wait upon you. 
 Mr. Lewes is the author of Bantlwrpe, and another clever novel 
 lately published. 
 
 Yours, my dear Sir, always sincerely, 
 
 John Forster. 
 
 November 20th, 1848. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 I will adopt your suggestion after all, and defer 
 bringing my friends from to-night until The Blot in the 
 Scutcheon is played, so shall trespass on your kindness then, 
 instead of to-night, for a box. I have written to Mr. Lewes 
 telling him that on finding your objections to his play went a 
 little deeper than he informed me, I had some brief talk 
 with you on the subject — but only on those points you 
 mentioned to me. Yours always sincerely, 
 
 58, Liiicoln's Inn Fields. JOHN FORSTER. 
 
 November 29th, 1848. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 Many thanks for your note. It will help me to 
 back your suit in the matter of the play. 
 
 I am going to avail myself of your kindness to-night, and 
 shall again see the play myself. There are very few other 
 things going I should care to see twice — or even once. 
 
 Yours always sincerely, 
 
 John Forster. 
 
 * This play Mr. Phelps thought little of, and he was rig-ht, as the result 
 proved. It was produced afterwards at the Ol^'inpic, witli G. V. Brooke 
 in tlie principal character, and was a dead failure. Mr. Phelps's verdict 
 on its merits, however, so completely wounded the amour propre of 
 Lewes, poor man, that he never got over it, and as some little compen- 
 sation to his own feelings (I presume) he quite ignored j\Ir. Phelps in his 
 work on Actors and the Art of Acting, which he published in 1875. — 
 W. M. P.
 
 LETTERS. 375 
 
 December llth, 1848. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 Could vou manage to e;ive me a word as to Mr. 
 White's play — The AVhite Rose ? I cannot lielp fancying there 
 is something worth considering in that play. But if you think 
 not, it will end a little suspense in our fi-iend's mind, and 
 perhaps set him to " fresh fields and pastures new," if you 
 enable me to administer the short, sharp, final No. 
 
 Yours always most sincerely, 
 58, Lincoln's Inn Fields. JOHN FoRSTER. 
 
 March 5th, 1849. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 Pray write to me, or call and see me, in the course 
 
 of to-morrow, Tuesday, on the subject of The Sea Captain. Sir 
 
 v^. B. L. has a little leisure now, when the play might be refitted 
 
 if thought worth while. Should he turn to anything else it will 
 
 be too late. Hence the necessity of a decision — Yes or No. 
 
 Yours always sincerely, 
 58, Lincoln's Inn Fields, JoHN FORSTER. 
 
 October 2nd, 1849. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 I shall expect you on Saturday at seven ; pray be 
 punctual. 
 
 Here is a note from Mr. Leigh Hunt, which I had better 
 forward to you. I told him of what passed between us, and 
 this letter is his acknowledgment. 
 
 I think if you knew how important it is to him that some- 
 thing should be done with tliis play, you would possibly be able 
 to strain a point to effect it. The strength, as I remember it, 
 lies so much more with the Prince than with his Wife, that 
 Miss Glyn would, in my judgment, be equal to the part. 
 
 Think it over, and do what you can. I have no fear of a 
 result sufficiently satisfactory to justify the risk. 
 
 Sincerely yours always, 
 
 John Forster. 
 
 October IGth, 1849. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 You are reported to me as " in the bills " for 
 Wednesday. Have you forgotten that on that day you had 
 promised to come and eat y<jur dinner here with me ? K you 
 still can come, I shall be most happy to see you at six; but if
 
 376 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 any other day happens to suit you better, pray do not scruple 
 to alter it. I have asked no one, — meaning simply that we 
 should talk of matters to which a third person might have been 
 an interruption ; and hoping you will repeat your visit in a 
 week or two, when Mr. Dickens is less engaged than at present, 
 and able to join us. We saw your Leon on Saturday night, 
 and were greatly entertained and pleased by it. I hear but 
 moderate accounts of the Juliet on the same evening. 
 
 Yours always sincerely, 
 58, Lincoln's Inn Fields. JOHN FORSTER. 
 
 Octob&r 2Ath, 1849. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 Most admirable in every respect was your Antony 
 and Cleopatra, and I heartily congratulate you upon it. 
 
 Knowing how busy you have been with it, I avoided till now 
 to act on your last note. 
 
 But now, if you can breakfast with me next Saturday at 
 half past nine I shall be most glad. We can then discuss 
 some matters of which I wish to speak to you, and arrange for 
 that evening here which you owe me. 
 
 Always yours sincerely, 
 
 John Forster. 
 
 October 3Ut, 1849. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 I send back Mr. Greenwood's letter. He seems to 
 me to miss the point ; but that is now not worth discussing. 
 If cmy proposition could be made with a view to The Prince's 
 Marriage (which I wish you would read again), or to this little 
 comedy as an after-piece, I should be very glad. I shall in 
 any case expect to see you, or hear from you, to-morrow. 
 
 Most sincerely yours, 
 58, Lincoln's Inn Fields. JOHN FoRSTER. 
 
 November 1st, 1849. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 Though I shall avail myself of your kindness at 
 the theatre to-night, it will be necessary for me to leave the 
 instant the play is over — if not before ; and therefore I shall 
 have no opportunity of a word with you. Hence I trouble you 
 with this note to say that if you can favour me with a note or
 
 LETTERS. 377 
 
 a call in the course of to-morrow (or Saturday at the latest), in 
 reference to Mr. Hunt's affair, I shall be very grateful to you. 
 I am in a oness of promises to him. 
 
 Always yours sincerely, 
 58, Lincoln s Inn Fields. JOHN FoRSTER. 
 
 November Uth, 1849. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 It is with no ordinary reluctance I again write to 
 you on the subject of Mr. Hunt. But this is the last time you 
 will hear from me on the matter. I cannot bear to play the 
 part of a dun to you. . . . 
 
 You must do me the justice to remember that I interfered 
 in this matter at your own request. You had accepted Mr. 
 Hunt's play before you called here and asked me to read it, 
 with a view to what I should consider to be a fair offer to make 
 to him. All that I have since done has been quite as much 
 with a view to help you as to help Mr. Hunt in a difficulty 
 which you do not seem to have foreseen when you originally 
 read the play. I have now (and, as I have said, for the last 
 time) only to state that Mr. Hunt has relied on something 
 being done with this play; and to put it to you whether you 
 can do anything, or suggest any such compromise in reference 
 to any other play (such as Mr. Greenwood appeared to point at 
 in his note) as may give Mr. Hunt some slight abatement of 
 his disappointment. In any case I will most earnestly entreat 
 you to send a final ansiver. Perhaps you will be kind en£)ugh 
 to do so to Mr. Hunt himself, on or before Saturday next — 32, 
 Edwardes Square, Kensington ? I would rather you wrote to 
 him. Always, my dear Sir, 
 
 Most sincerely yours, 
 
 John Forster. 
 
 December \2ih, 1849. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 You had not a very easy task last night, but you 
 got through it admirably.* 
 
 But this is not what makes me trouble you so early this 
 
 mornmg 
 
 Mr. Dickens wants you to write a short note to him de- 
 scriptive of * * * 
 
 * Production of Garcia and acting the principal cliaracter. — W. M. P.
 
 378 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 Henry will wait until you do this. For it is essential to he 
 done to-day. 
 
 Always, my clear Sir, most sincerely yours, 
 58, Lincoln's Inn Fields. JoHN FoRSTER. 
 
 My Dear Sir, Jammry 21th, isoi. 
 
 You will see by the announcement of to-day that 
 Mr. Macready takes bis farewell of the stage on 19th February. 
 He plays Macbeth, and I know, for many reasons, that it 
 would give him peculiar pleasure if you would take part in that 
 night's performance, and play Macduff. The purport of this 
 note is to ask you if you will do so. 
 
 May I ask you to be so kind as to give me an answer in the 
 course of to-morrow ? 
 
 Yours ever sincerely, 
 
 John Forster. 
 
 8, Canonhury Square, Islington, 
 My Dear Sir, January 28th, 1851. 
 
 I have not seen the announcement of Mr. Macready 's 
 " farewell," or should have written him on the subject of your 
 note. I had been much hurt indeed if not allowed to testify 
 (in a small degree) my respect for him by assisting on that 
 occasion. Will you say thus much, and add that I am wholly at 
 his command ? Faithfully yours, 
 
 John Forster, Esq. Samuel Phelps.* 
 
 My Dear Sir, January 30th, 1851. 
 
 I have communicated your note to Mr. Macready, 
 to whom it has given real and great pleasure. He will write 
 to you himself Let me say also the gratification it afforded 
 me. But I knew what your answer would be. I never doubted 
 it for an instant. Most sincerely yours, 
 
 John Forster. 
 
 8, Canonhury Square, Islington, 
 My Dear Sir, September 5th, 1852. 
 
 I am very unwilling to trouble you even with a 
 question, as I know not how far you may have recovered your 
 
 * For copies of this and the three otlier letters from ]\Ir. Phelps to Mr. 
 Forster I tim indebted to the kindness of Mrs. Forster. — W. M. P.
 
 LETTERS. 379 
 
 health, which I was extremely sorry to hear (while out of town) 
 was much impaired. 
 
 To be brief, circumstances have arisen which induce me to 
 think of speculating with Drury Lane ! Give me credit for a 
 little common-sense, and repress your inclination to exclaim. 
 
 Do you think Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton would be disposed 
 to let me have his Greek play and Household Gods ? As 
 my proceeding in the matter (at present) depends much upon 
 his " Aye " or " No," I shall feel greatly obliged if you will ask 
 him the question. 
 
 I will hereafter make you acquainted with " full particulars." 
 In the meantime rest assured that I am by no means rash. 
 
 If the state of your health will make a reply to this at all 
 troublesome, pray dispense with it, though I sincerely hope for 
 a speedy answer. My dear Sir, 
 
 Faithfully yours, 
 John Forster, Esq. Samuel Phelps. 
 
 May 2-ith, 1855. 
 
 My Dear Mr. Phelps, 
 
 As soon as I got your note I felt that there was no 
 hope, but I nevertheless sent it to Sir E. L. B. 
 
 What so completely makes it " out of the question " with 
 him for the j)resent did not perhaps occur to you ; and you 
 will attach to it, after all, less importance than he does, but it 
 is certainly a bar. 
 
 I am sorry you should at all despond of your season and 
 its prospects. I should hope that the evil effects of the war 
 will somewhat abate before the time for your resuming comes. 
 
 I have been thinking over many things since I had your 
 note, and I can really hit upon nothing that would be more 
 worthy of all the care, knowledge, and splendour you might 
 bestow upon it (especially in these days of wars, and battles, 
 and soldiers, struggles and victories) than Wallenstein. 
 
 Always most truly yours, 
 
 John Forster. 
 
 8, Canonhtiry Square, 
 
 My Dear Sir, May uuh, usoo. 
 
 The bearer of this (my nephew) tells me it may be 
 in your power to place him in a situation he is a candidate for, 
 and I therefore venture to give him this introduction to your
 
 380 LIFE OF PHELPS, 
 
 notice, knowing him to be a young man of high character, 
 and possessing the good opinion of all the officials connected 
 with Bethlem Hospital. 
 
 He is one of a large family of orphans, whose education and 
 providing for devolved upon myself and a sister. I merely 
 mention this as a kind of apology for soliciting your kind inter- 
 ference in his behalf, as you see a sort of fatherly duty induces 
 me to make this effort — it is an effort to ask a great ftwour 
 Without right or claim to do so. I feel assured, however, that 
 you will pardon me, and I am, 
 
 My dear Sir, 
 
 Yours very faithfully, 
 John Forster, Esq. S. Phelps. 
 
 P.S. — I have left my nephew to state his own case.* 
 
 46, Montagu Square, W., 
 
 My Dear Mr. Phelps, May vzih, i860. 
 
 You can make no application to me which I should 
 not heartily wish and endeavour to second by all the means in 
 my power. 
 
 I have seen your nephew, whose manner and address seem 
 to justify in all respects the high opinion expressed of him, 
 
 I have explained the difficulties of my position in reference 
 to appointments connected with such institutions ; but within 
 the limits of what I can do (and which he seems quite to 
 understand), rely upon my leaving nothing undone to try and 
 serve him. 
 
 With best wishes, and all the old esteem and regard, believe 
 me always, my dear Mr. Phelps, 
 
 Most truly yours, 
 S. Phelps, Esq. John Forster. 
 
 8, Canonhury Square, 
 
 My Dear Mr. Forster, May nth, i860. 
 
 I beg you will excuse my delay in thanking you 
 most gratefully for your kind note of the 12th. My nephew, 
 I am sure, whatever may be its result, will ever remember 
 strongly his interview with you. 
 
 Yours very faithfully, 
 John Forster, Esq. S. Phelps. 
 
 * The nephew here referred to is my brother. — W. M. P.
 
 LETTERS. 381 
 
 LETTERS FROM THE REV. JAMES WHITE. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 The good opinion of The Earl of Gowrie expressed 
 by so competent a judge and excellent a performer as Mr. 
 Phelps is highly flattering to my vanity as an author. But I 
 think it is best to explain to him at once the circumstances in 
 my position that make me decline accepting his obliging offer 
 to bring it out at Sadler's Wells. Mr. Macready has expressed 
 a very high opinion of another play which I sent him on hearing 
 how much The Earl of Govvi'ie had pleased him, and he has 
 (I believe) arranged for its production during this season, taking 
 the principal character himself. I think it would not be acting 
 towards him with the friendship that his great kindness to me 
 deserves, if I were to connect myself with another theatre during 
 my connection with the Princess's. Will you forward the sub- 
 stance of this to Mr. Phelps ? — and assure him that if I had had 
 it in my power, nothing would have been more pleasing to me 
 than to have aided his and Mrs. Warner's noble efforts in behalf 
 of the legitimate drama. 
 
 Believe me, my dear Sir, 
 
 Yours very truly, 
 
 John Forster, Esq. James White. 
 
 Monday morning, February 2nd, 1846. 
 
 Erechtheum Club, St. James's Square, 
 Dear Sir November 21th, 1846. 
 
 As my friend Mr. Forster refers you to me on the 
 subject of my tragedy of the Feudal Times, I shall be glad 
 if you will appoint a time and place where we can meet to- 
 morrow. I can either receive you here, or, as I am probably 
 the idler man, I can come to you at the theatre or anywhere 
 else at whatever hour suits you best. 
 
 I remain, your obedient servant, 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq. James White. 
 
 Bonchurch, Isle of Wight, 
 My Dear Sir, December 9th, 1846. 
 
 I enclose you a letter from my friend, Mr. Roberts 
 [David Roberts, R.A.], respecting scenery and costume, from 
 which you will perceive his friendship in the cause of Feudal
 
 382 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 Times. Have you got it copied yet ? If you have not yet 
 despatched it to Mr. Forster, it will be better to put it in a 
 brown paper envelope and send it to me as a parcel here. I 
 will then add a preface, and get ready for the printer. I shall 
 always be glad to hear what progress you are making in the 
 distribution of the parts ; and should be very glad to hear at 
 what time you can put it in rehearsal. I do not go to London 
 till the end of this month. 
 
 Believe me, my dear Sir, 
 
 Yours very truly, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq. James White. 
 
 BonchurcJi, Isle of Wight, 
 December 21st, 1846. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 I send you some extracts from Pinkerton (whom 
 Walter Scott calls " this very accurate historian "), which may be 
 useful for the costumes of Feudal Times. The only other points 
 I glean are that the shoes were broad-pointed, the armoyr 
 plate, and that James III. was the first who put the unicorn 
 into the Royal Arms. Did you ever hear of the picture at 
 Kensington ? Crimson gowns with satin stomachers lined with 
 ermine seems to have been the dress of noble ladies. 
 Believe me, my dear Sir, 
 
 Yours very truly, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq. James White. 
 
 Erechtheum Cluh, St. James's Square, 
 December 29th, 1846. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 I am now settled in London for three months, and 
 shall be ready to put my shoulder to the wheel of Feudal Times 
 as soon as possible. As Islington is so far off, will you let me 
 know by a Queen's head addressed to this club whether I shall 
 find you at the theatre on Wednesday or Thursday, and at what 
 hour? Meantime, believe me 
 
 Yours very truly, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq. James White.
 
 LETTERS. 383 
 
 3, Upper George Street, Montagu Square, 
 January 2nd, 1847. 
 
 'My Dear Sir, 
 
 I am very sorry to discover by your note of to-day 
 the cause of your absence from the bills ; — so that you maintain 
 an equal absence from those of mortality all will be well ; and 
 I trust next week will see you yourself again. 
 
 The above is my address for three months ; and as you are 
 getting on with the arrangements for the Feudal Times, I will 
 not intrude on your convalescence until I see that you are in 
 full possession of the stage again. 
 
 I propose on Tuesday or Wednesday to bring my wife and 
 two little girls to see the play and pantomime ; and perhaps 
 we can have a few minutes' conversation after the play. 
 In the meantime, believe me, 
 
 My dear Sir, yours very truly, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq. James White. 
 
 3, Upper George Street, Montagu Square, 
 January oth, 1847. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 To-day is so mild that I intend to bring my party 
 (of four) to see The Lady of Lyons and the pantomime ; and as 
 I now consider myself a portion of the Sadler's Wells company, 
 venture to ask you for a private box (if disengaged). 
 
 Yours very truly, 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq. James White. 
 
 My Dear Sir, January Gth, 1847. 
 
 I saw Mr. Roberts to-day. He has fortunately got 
 a sketch of the oldest part of Holyrood, and says there will be 
 no difficulty in devising the Abbot's Lodge in which it was the 
 custom of the kings to reside. The Royal Palace was in the 
 Castle. The principal features to be presented are, I should 
 think, the bold outline of Arthur's Seat, which, you remember, 
 bounds the Park in Avhich the Lords have their consultations 
 and the banner scene of the third act occurs — the massive style 
 of the houses in the Canongate, and probably tlie great grey 
 old Castle at the west end of the scene. As Mr. Roberts knows 
 the character of the scenery at Lauder, he may give liints for 
 the fifth act; but whatever he can do I know he will, for my 
 sake, and also for that of the Legitimate. Last night gave me
 
 384 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 great hopes, although I don't think The Lady of Lyons qualified 
 to give a very just view of the powers of your company. I feel 
 sure Miss Laura Addison will do excellent well in Marsfaret. 
 
 Mr. Roberts will be glad to see your painter any time on 
 Friday next between ten and three at 7, Fitzroy Street. I am 
 always at your summons addressed to Upper George Street. 
 
 Yours very truly, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq. James White. 
 
 3, Upper George Street, 
 My Dear Phelps, February 2lst, 1847. 
 
 I cannot resist the temptation of thanking you for 
 the great pleasure your admirable acting gave me last night. 
 You presented a noble embodiment of the hero ; and, in short, 
 the completeness of the whole play makes me feel equally 
 obliged to you in your character of intellectual artist and tasteful 
 manager. Let this suffice. I am not given to flummery, and 
 therefore I hope you will value my thanks as something more 
 than words of course. 
 
 My wife wishes to take some friends on Wednesday. The 
 large box next the stage will do, which I believe you can spare 
 more easily than any other. Will you write " Yes " or " No " (as 
 I know you are no great scribe) that she may fix the day for 
 her friends — three ladies besides herself ? 
 
 To-morrow or next day we meditate a call at No. 8, as Mrs. 
 White is anxious to make Mrs. Phelps's acquaintance. 
 
 Ever yours most truly, 
 
 S. Phelps, Esq. James White. 
 
 March 5th, 1847. 
 
 My Dear Phelps, 
 
 In the effort of Cockerisincr our arrangement of 
 to-day, I trust I made it clear that Dickens and Forster are 
 coming with me on Monday. Let us have the private box 
 farthest from the stage, and be on your mettle. 
 
 Yours ever, 
 
 S. Phelps, Esq. James White. 
 
 March 30th, 1847. 
 
 My Dear Phelps, 
 
 I enclose you a formal acceptance of your offer for 
 my play of John Savile, and only hope he will equal your 
 expectations when you put him on the boards. The conduct
 
 LETTERS. 385 
 
 of Mr. Macready lias been most liberal and friendly throughout, 
 and so also has been Mr. Forster's. 
 
 I had some conversation with the latter last night after the 
 General Theatrical Fund Dinner, and he thinks that if you feel 
 confident of a portrait success in James, and the d4noiicmcnt is 
 judiciously altered, that it would be quite safe to proceed as 
 we had proposed with The Earl of Gowrie in the meantime. I 
 myself have no doubt of your making a hit, and it only lies 
 with you to decide whether its general merits as a play are 
 likely to insure a success, which, by keeping me favourably 
 before the public, might benefit the tragedy in September. 
 Will you think over this ? Give the play (The Earl of Gowrie) 
 a careful reading, and let me know the result. I confess a 
 ■penchant (if you think any play would be useful in that respect) 
 for Flattery's Fool; for, being of a different kind, a comparative 
 failure would not damage any reputation the Feudal Times has 
 established in the "serious line." I go home to-morrow to 
 Bonchurch, where I hope you will write to me. 
 
 I propose to run up again on 7th Aj)ril; but a line from you 
 will bring me up to a certainty. 
 
 Remember us very kindly to Mrs. Phelps. 
 
 Ever yours truly, 
 S. Phelps, Esq. • James White. 
 
 Bonchurch, June 25th, 1847. 
 
 My Dear Phelps, 
 
 The health of my eldest daughter has given us great 
 uneasiness, and though she is now better, the doctors insist on 
 my giving her two months of health-seeking among the Scottish 
 hills ; so in about ten days she and my wife and I begin our 
 summer wanderings, from which I fear I cannot return before 
 the end of August. Before that time you will have commenced 
 the rehearsals of John Savile. 
 
 Will you let me know by a letter addressed here at what 
 time you propose to open ? 
 
 It will be a great favour also, if you will tell me whether you 
 have made any alterations in your company — and what they are, 
 — for in case of any inspiration from the mountain air (not for- 
 getting the dew of the same region) information on this point 
 would be very useful. 
 
 Ever yours, dear Phelps, truly, 
 
 S. Phelps, Esq. James White. 
 
 p.S. — I hope you are giving Mrs. Phelps (to whom we beg our 
 
 c
 
 386 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 compliments) and the children change of air, and that you 
 yourself are getting refreshed as a giant to run your course. 
 
 Moffat, Dumfriesshire, 
 
 My Dear Phelps, August nth, 1847. 
 
 After six weeks' wanderings among hills and heather 
 we are so far on our way home. In such an out-of-the-way spot 
 as this we hear nothing of the gay world of St. James's, or 
 the dramatic world of Sadler's Wells. Will you enlighten 
 my ignorance on the latter subject by a note addressed to 
 the Erechtheum Club, which I hope to reach on 16th inst. ? 
 ******* 
 When do you expect to make your bow as John Savile ? 
 With best regards to Mrs. Phelps, 
 
 Yours ever, &c., 
 S. Phelps, Esq. James White. 
 
 3, Ujyper Oeorge Street, 
 
 My Dear Phelps, August 3is<, 1847. 
 
 I have secured this house only for another fort- 
 night. 
 
 For how many weeks should I require to take it beyond that 
 time, to enable my people to see the production of John Savile ? 
 Is it certain to come out not later than the first week in 
 October ? 
 
 Pray answer this, as you will see it is of conseqvience. 
 
 Ever yours truly, 
 
 S. Phelps, Esq. James White. 
 
 October llth, 1847. 
 
 My Dear Phelps, 
 
 I enclose (with many thanks) a formal receipt for 
 the £100, which I would have done earlier this morning if I 
 had had a stamp of the proper amount. 
 
 I hope to bring my wife and daughter to the Macbeth 
 to-morrow night, and there is some plan of a joint visit by her 
 and Mrs. Dickens when it is acted next week. 
 
 Meantime I am laying in a stock of triijc and cow-heel for 
 the supper of the 27th. 
 
 I shall see you at rehearsal on Thursday, and till then remain, 
 as ever, yours very truly, 
 
 S. Phelps, Esq. James White.
 
 LETTERS. 387 
 
 Bonchurch, Isle of Wi</Jtt 
 October 21th, 1847. 
 
 My Dear Phelps, 
 
 I arrived here yesterday, aud find I have so much 
 to do after four mouths' absence, that unless you particularly 
 need me for rehearsal on Tuesday, I should not like to leave 
 home till Thursday or Friday next week. Will you let me 
 know if the two new scenes were what you wanted, and whether 
 my presence on Tuesday is indispensable ? My daughter is not 
 so well. Believe me, yours very truly, 
 
 James White. 
 
 Bonchurch, Odoher 29th, 1847. 
 
 My Dear Phelps, 
 
 I have perfect confidence in your theatrical judg- 
 ment, but feel so strongly about the proposed alteration of the 
 end of the fourth act (which I had considered the best point in 
 the play) that I hope some other means may be devised to 
 enable us to retain it. 
 
 The story of Savile's getting into Lilian's room is, that aided 
 by Epslie (who had of course the entree as Buckingham's 
 confidant, and, in this instance, the fictitious chaplain) he got 
 in without resistance from the Duke's attendants. 
 
 ******* 
 
 This or something like it I hold to be very essential to the 
 progress of the story. But as conversation may help us, I will 
 run up to-morrow, and see you on Sunday at twelve or one 
 o'clock at Canonbury Square. If I miss you there, at all 
 events on Monday at rehearsal at eleven. 
 
 Believe me, always yours very truly, 
 
 James White. 
 
 Bonchurch, Isle of Wight, 
 November 2lst, 1847. 
 
 My Dear Phelps, 
 
 I am pleased to hear that the play goes even better 
 than I expected, and that the houses (considering weather aud 
 the monetary crisis) are reasonably good. I wish they were 
 crammed to the ceiling fur your sake, particularly as it would 
 make my application to you more tolerable. If you can 
 spare * * * * 
 
 I intend to run up to London for the Shakespeare Fund 
 night, though I must say I should have liked the stars to have 
 
 c 2
 
 388 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 made a constellation in one play instead of each taking a little 
 bit of heaven to himself. 
 
 I hope you are all well. My little invalid has shaken off 
 her attack, and has now only weakness to contend with, and 
 the doctors speak confidently of recovery. 
 
 Ever yours, 
 
 James White. 
 
 Bonchurch, Isle of Wight, 
 November 2-ith, 1847. 
 
 My Dear Phelps, 
 
 I can most truly condole with you on the short life 
 (which is certainly not a merry one) of John Savile, for I suspect 
 it will eventually be a greater loss to me than to you. On 
 Friday, have the kindness to gratify the twopenny postman 
 in the pit by changing the speech about the names to " They 
 said they would return, — those gentlemen ? " 
 
 If Mr. Greenwood will pay the money into the Commercial 
 Bank, 6, Henrietta Street, at once, it will be a great favour, as 
 I have an account to pay which I have promised to do on 
 Saturday. 
 
 I really hope your As You Like It will fill the exchequer 
 which I have been the means of emptying* My informants 
 of its success, " excellent houses," were David Roberts and Mr. 
 Forster, — I was quite delighted ; and now comes your letter 
 like the .... to keep my buds from blowing. New plays 
 don't seem successful anywhere this season, and I am afraid 
 from the Times report of Philip V. Artevelde that he is no 
 exception. Well, I had once hopes of making something of 
 the Drama, but I fear that is over. You will probably think 
 you have had enough of me, and I must therefore carry my 
 pigs — White Roses — to another market. f 
 
 I was sorry to hear of the illness in your house. 
 
 ******* 
 
 If I do not hear from you, I will draw on the bank on 
 Saturday in the confidence the money will be paid in. 
 
 Ever yours truly, 
 
 James White. 
 
 * This only lasted a night or two. John Savile drew good houses 
 afterwards.— W. M. P. 
 + See Appendix.
 
 LETTERS. 389 
 
 LETTERS FROM CHARLES DICKENS. 
 
 Broadstairs, Kent, 
 
 August 29th, 1847. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 I caunot resist the impulse I feel to thank j^ou for 
 the very great pleasure I derived from the representation of 
 C^mibeline at your theatre on Thursday night. The excellent 
 sense, taste, and feeling manifested throughout ; the great 
 beauty of all the stage arrangements ; and the respectful 
 consideration (so to speak) shown by every one concerned, for 
 the creation of the poet, gave me extraordinary gratification. 
 Nor could I readily express to you, if I were to try, how strong 
 a sense I have of the o-reat service such a theatre renders to all 
 who visit it, and to the general cause of Literature and Art. 
 
 Even at the risk of seeming to intrude this sense upon you, 
 I really cannot help assuring you of my warm interest and 
 admiration. And perhaps you will receive my note with the 
 greater favour, when I confess to having resisted a similar 
 impulse after several former visits to Sadler's Wells, in my 
 unwillingness to trouble you. 
 
 Let me hope that I may have the pleasure of associating my 
 public knowledge of you with a more private and personal one 
 than hitherto when I return to town in October; and believe 
 me, my dear Sir, Faithfully yours, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esquire. Charles Dickens. 
 
 Broadstairs, Kent, 
 
 September 2l$t, 1847. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 I have received your letter with very great pleasure. 
 I had anticipated, in ray own mind, the occasion of my not 
 hearing from you — with a misgiving tliat I had not given you 
 at all clearly to understand my whereabouts — and therefore was 
 in no surprise, and should have had the satisfaction of calling 
 upon you on my return to town. Which I still promise to 
 myself; not the less agreeably, you may suppose, for the kind 
 and welcome assurance you give me in your note. 
 
 My dear Sir, faithfully yours, 
 
 S. Phelps, Esquire. Charles Dickens.
 
 390 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 1, Devonshire Terrace, 
 Tuesday Evening, October 5th, 1847. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. White are coming to dine with us on 
 Sunday at six o'clock, to dispose of a haunch of venison that 
 has arrived to-day. If you should have no better engagement, 
 and would take your seat at our family table, both Mrs. Dickens 
 and I would be cordially glad to see you. 
 
 My dear Sir, faithfully yours, 
 S. Phelps, Esquire. Charles Dickens. 
 
 BevonsJiire Terrace, 
 
 Wednesday Evening. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 The Keverend James White is comincr here to-nio^ht 
 to learn the fate of his play ; and I believe two friends of his 
 are coming too. For whose consolation a lobster and a glass of 
 wine will be awaiting our return. If you should not be too 
 fatigued, and would assist me to make the Reverend J. W. miser- 
 able, by describing the progress of the evening, I should be glad 
 to carry you home here, and would wait until you had exchanged 
 the garments of John Savile for your own. In that case, will 
 you send some one round to me, merely to say " Wait ? " I need 
 not observe that no dressing is necessary for such a refection, 
 and that we have not the least idea of sitting late. But the 
 smallest congratulation would be so incomplete without you — 
 or the smallest condolence either, in which you decidedly have 
 a just share — that I hope I shall take you prisoner in virtue of 
 this warrant. Believe me, very faithfully yours, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esquire. Charles Dickens. 
 
 Tavistock House, 
 
 February 25th, 1854. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 You will not have to pull down that wall. I am 
 sorry to inform you that the difficulties in the way of the 
 Queen's coming to Sadler's Wells are unsurmountable. But a 
 very just reference is made to you and the theatre in Colonel 
 Phipps's letter. 
 
 Will you come here to-morrow an hour before dinner — that 
 is to say, at five — and let us again review the circumstances ? 
 ******* 
 
 Faithfully yours always, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esquire. Charles Dickens.
 
 LETTERS. ' 391 
 
 Tavistock House, 
 
 December llth, 1854. 
 
 Mt Dear Mr. Phelps, 
 
 Mrs. Martin immediately sent the play to Buckstone. 
 I immediately wrote to Buckstone as you and I agreed. Buck- 
 stone immediately wrote to me, to ask to hold the question 
 over until his pantomime is out, he being in a dismal condition 
 of environment by fairies and carpenters. To that reasonable 
 entreaty I replied with amiability, and he will come to me 
 when his holiday ship is fairly afloat. You shall, of course, 
 hear from me in due course, without delay. 
 
 I want you to do my children a kindness for their little 
 Christmas play. Will you ask your prompter to lend me your 
 prompt-book of Fortunio, and a piano copy of its music, if you 
 have such a thing ? Very faithfully yours, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esquire. Charles Dickens. 
 
 Tavistock House, 
 
 My Dear Mr. Phelps, January ith, 1855. 
 
 Buckstone has redeemed his promise, and has read 
 and carefully considered Mr. Saunders's play. I have both heard 
 from him and seen him on the subject ; and he is quite willing 
 to do it at the Haymarket, if all questions of cost can be 
 adjusted with a reasonable reference to the depth of his purse. 
 
 He would prefer to bring it out immediately after Easter. I 
 want your reply to two questions. Firstly, w^ould your arrange- 
 ments admit of your appearing at the Haymarket, say on 
 Saturday the 14th of April? — and secondly, on what terms 
 would you go there ? If you will give me your reply on these 
 points, I will communicate it to Buckstone : with whom (of 
 course) I hold any such communication in confidence. In the 
 meantime I consider nothing in reference to the play changed, 
 and regard it still under your acceptance. 
 
 Always very faithfully yours, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esquire. Charles Dickens. 
 
 Hotel Maurice, Paris, 
 
 My Dear Mr. Phelps, February uth, 1855. 
 
 I left town on Sunday on a ten days' or fortnight's 
 visit to France, and had not had time to write a line to you. 
 
 A note I received from Buckstone a day or two before I came 
 away leads me to infer that some communication had taken
 
 392 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 place between you and him on the subject of Mr. Saunders's 
 play : and that yon knew before I did, that Mrs. Martin's 
 arrangements could not be made to tally with yours, and that 
 the Haymarket project could not be carried out. 
 
 What I wish to communicate to you in this condition of the 
 matter is, that I will see Mr. Saunders as soon as I return, and 
 immediately afterwards convey to you his wishes as to the 
 play's remaining in your hands. There has not been the least 
 delay on our side. Buckstone's note, to which I have referred, 
 was in answer to one of mine, urging him to report progress. 
 
 The Exhibition building is fast approaching to completion 
 here, and great things are expected in the way of a prodigious 
 influx of visitors. If Mitchell carries out the idea you mentioned 
 to me, and if it be well executed, I imagine that an English 
 theatre will be a hit. All the French theatres are at work as 
 usual, and everybody seems to go to all of them, though the 
 snow lies thick and the cold is severe. What a model people ! 
 
 Faithfully yours, 
 Samuel Phelps, Esquire. Charles ' Dickens. 
 
 Tavistock House, 
 
 April btli, 1855. • 
 
 My Dear Mr. Phelps, 
 
 After some difficulty, I am assured that matters 
 are now arranged between Mrs. Martin and Mr. Buckstone for 
 the production of Mr. Saunders's play. I therefore think it 
 right immediately to relieve you of any further trouble in the 
 matter, and to withdraw the play from your hands agreeably 
 to the understanding between us. 
 
 Always faithfully yours, 
 
 Samuel ^helps. Esquire. Charles Dickens. 
 
 Tavistock House, Londmi, 
 
 April Vlth, 1855. 
 
 My Dear Mr. Phelps, 
 
 I have throughout been quite sensible (and so, I 
 am sure, has Mr. Saunders), that you have done everything you 
 reasonably could to advance the prospects of Love's Martyrdom. 
 Pray believe that throughout these negotiations I have not 
 for a moment thought otherwise. 
 
 Very faithfully yours, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esquire. Charles Dickens.
 
 LETTERS. 393 
 
 Tavistock House, 
 
 My Dear Mr. Phelps, ^^ardi 2-ith, iSo7. 
 
 Can you come and join our family dinner (we shall 
 be perfectly alone) on Sunday at five ? If this proposal should 
 not be convenient to you, I should be happy to see you on 
 Saturday at half-past two. I should prefer the former appoint- 
 ment, as it would enable us to discuss our subject at the fireside 
 after dinner, but I suggest two opportunities of meeting, in 
 order that the end may be more readily brought about. 
 
 Write me a word in answer, and I shall expect you according 
 to your reply. Always faithfully yours, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esquire. Charles Dickens. 
 
 Garrick Club, 
 
 My Dear Phelps, '^"'ie 12th, 1857. 
 
 Let me call your attention to the accompanying 
 proof. It is the wish of the Committee that it sliould be left 
 to sj)eak for itself. 
 
 I am not wrong, I believe, in having taken upon myself to 
 say that I was certain your co-operation may be counted on, on 
 the occasion against which I have set a mark ? * 
 
 Faithfully yours always, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esquire. Charles Dickens. 
 
 Gallery of Illustration, 
 
 Dear Sir, '^««e idth, 1857. 
 
 We beg to inform you that we have taken the 
 liberty of adding your name to this Committee,* in the full 
 assurance that you would readily extend that sanction and 
 support to the object in view. 
 
 We are, dear Sir, faithfully yours, 
 
 Charles Dickens, 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq. Arthur W. W. Smith. 
 
 In liememhrance of the late Mr. Douglas Jerrold. 
 
 Committee's Office, Gallery of Illustration, 
 Ue(jeut Street, July 'lad, 1857. 
 
 My Dear Phelps, 
 
 We shall not have above twenty people on the 
 Queen's night, but I have managed to lay violent hands on 
 
 * Re tlio fund to be laiBcd in reni(jiul»rancc of the late Mr. Duiif^las 
 Jerrold.— W. M. ?.
 
 394 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 these two cards for yourself and Mrs. Phelps. Observe the 
 directions as to time. Faithfully yours always, 
 
 Chaeles Dickens, 
 
 Office of '^ All the Year Bound" 
 
 My Deae Phelps, May 21 th, 1863. 
 
 I have an engagement at twelve to-day, to go to 
 Limehouse with Mr. Edwin Chadwick to iusjDect some schools. 
 I therefore leave for you enclosed, agreeably to your request, 
 the four letters from Mr. Fechter to yourself which you left in 
 my hands. Faithfully yours always, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq. Chaeles Dickens. 
 
 LETTEHS FROM LEIGH HUNT. 
 
 Kensington, 
 
 Oct 1st, 1849. 
 
 My Deae Foestee, 
 
 I am very glad of what you tell me respecting 
 Sadler's Wells. 
 
 I am quite aware of the many perplexities that beset man- 
 agers ; have a special sense of what is due to those who make 
 such intelligent and praiseworthy efforts to uphold the poetic 
 drama ; and important as profits are to me, .... am the last 
 man in the world to make arrangements difficult in regard to 
 money matters. It is a pure matter of justice that they ought 
 to be squared to the manager's receipts. But what I am most 
 anxious about is, that a conclusion of some kind be come to 
 respecting the actual appearance of the play. I have been the 
 more sorry at not seeing or hearing further of Mr. Phelps, 
 because I took a liking to him at our interview, both on his 
 own account and the piece's, and was glad to think that he 
 would be the hero of it. He had both the look and the tones 
 of the man, who could at one time play the loving husband, and 
 at another send forth the avenging voice to his armies. 
 . But speed — speed — is what I want. Say this word more for 
 me, my dear, kind friend, who takes so much trouble for me; 
 and believe me, Your ever affectionate friend, 
 
 Leigh Hunt.
 
 LETTERS. 395 
 
 Ke7iswgto7i, 
 Tuesday, Nov. 'list, 1849. 
 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 There is a stage from this place to Islington at half 
 past one ; so that I propose, if not inconvenient to you, to come 
 to-morrow by that ; which will probably bring me to your door 
 by half past two, or thereabouts. If I do not, therefore, hear 
 from you to the contrary, you will be good eno' to look for 
 me accordingly. 
 
 Your most obedient, humble servant, 
 
 S. Phelps, Esq. Leigh Hunt. 
 
 Kensivf/ton, 
 
 Nov. 2Sth, 1849. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 It has struck me that you might like to have a 
 little more time with my play ; if so, pray take it. 
 
 I happen just now to be at a juncture with my little fortunes, 
 in which they are on the point, either of re-emerging finally 
 into light, ***** 
 
 and this naturally makes me anxious ; but there are perils in 
 precipitation as well as in delay ; and for my own sake, — which 
 I hope includes yours also, — I would fain encounter neither. 
 
 With a very pleasant recollection of our interview, 
 
 I am, my dear Sir, sincerely yours, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq. Leigh Hunt. 
 
 P.S. — Should your son call again, I should be happy to see 
 him in the evening instead of the morning if the former would 
 be more convenient to him. Either time suits me ; but the 
 case may be otherwise with him. Tea would be ready for him 
 at any hour ; and as the night air at present is hurtful to me, 
 I am sure to be at home. 
 
 Kensington, 
 
 April 2oth, 1850. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 I do not at all wish to take the play out of your 
 hands. I am heartily content to see it in thoin. I only thougiit, 
 that if you couM do nothing with it, somebody else might. I 
 wished but to sec it moving somehow, or promising to move. 
 
 Perhaps you will have the goodness to write me one word
 
 396 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 more, just to say when your next season commences, and at 
 what period of it you propose to bring out the play. 
 
 With kindest respects, very truly yours, 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq. Leigh Hunt* 
 
 LETTERS FROM SIR E. BULWER LYTTON. 
 
 1846. 
 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 I forgot to say that Mercadante wished to know 
 whether there would be what he calls a full orchestra, — or a 
 half one. Let me know as soon as possible. Better state of 
 what iustruments you will compose the orchestra. 
 
 I am obliged to send him my copy of the play — can you at 
 leisure let me have another ? 
 
 I was much delighted last night — actors, audience, getting 
 
 up, and all. Miss A has poiccr and stuff in her. But she 
 
 wants teaching. Articulation is defective. 
 
 Yours in haste, 
 S. Phelps, Esq. E. B. L. 
 
 My Dear Forster, 
 
 Will you kindly get from Mr. Phelps the copy he 
 took from my CEdipus ? I want to look over it, and have no 
 other copy, Mercadante not having returned the one I sent 
 
 him. 
 
 At the same time will you remind Mr. Phelps that there is 
 a sum due to me for The Lady of Lyons ? 
 
 Excuse this trouble, and believe me truly yours, 
 
 E. B. Lytton. 
 
 Feuillades Hotel, 
 
 February 23rd, 1847. 
 
 * The new play referred to in the foregoing letters was never produced, 
 but on 22nd August, 1850, Mr. Hunt's play of The Legend of Florence, 
 orio-inally produced by Madame Vestris at Covent Garden some ten years 
 bef'ore, was reproduced by Mr. Phelps with great success, and had a good 
 run. -W. M. P.
 
 LETTERS. 397 
 
 My Dear Forster, 
 
 Many thanks to Mr. Phelps and yourself. 
 But at this time it is out of the question for me to bring out 
 any play not already on the boards. 
 
 Yours truly, 
 Park Lane, E. B. LyTTON. 
 
 Monday, May 1855. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 I am much flattered b}'' your obliging letter. I have 
 no intention, however, of placing on the stage either the CEdipus 
 or the Lucretia. 
 
 I have by me, as you, I think, are aware, the romantic play 
 in five acts remodelled from The Sea Cajotain. But it contains 
 too many leading parts to be safely produced at present. 
 
 My attention is not much attracted towards the stage now. 
 But if any subject containing effective situations occurs to 
 yourself, oblige me by suggesting it, and I will give it con- 
 sideration. 
 
 I believe nothing more assists an author for dramatic com- 
 position than the hints of an accomplished actor as to effect 
 and situation, which the author can then harmonize to plot and 
 develop through character. And perhaps every eminent actor 
 sees his way to certain novel triumphs in his art, which he 
 could realize if he could get them placed in dramatic form. 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 S. Phelps, Esq. E. B. Lytton. 
 
 15, Boyul Crescent, Bath, 
 Nov. 20th, 18G3. 
 
 P.S. — I think a jAay of poetical or classic interest in three 
 acts might be made more forcible than five. 
 
 LETTER FROM G. H. BOKER. 
 
 Philadclphin, 
 
 Mr. Samuel Phelps, Septemher \st, 1850. 
 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 A few weeks ago I had the pleasure of receiving an 
 acting copy of my tragedy of Calaynos, which you did mo the
 
 398 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 honour of producing with such distinguished success at your 
 theatre. 
 
 Upon reviewing the acting copy I was of course struck with 
 the alterations which had been made at the conclusion of the 
 play ; but upon the whole think them very judicious for acting 
 purposes. Within a few days the idea has occurred to me of 
 re-writing the fifth act, at the same time preserving the 
 denouement which you gave to it. Enclosed you will find the 
 fruits of my labour, which you will be kind enough to use, if 
 you should ever reproduce the play. My only objection to 
 your conclusion of Calaynos is entirely of a private nature. 
 My new play, The Betrothal, which is about to be produced 
 in Philadelphia, concludes with a banquet scene ; and therefore 
 resembles the acting copy of Calaynos too nearly for my comfort. 
 This is the more perplexing to me, as the manager, Mr. Marshall, 
 insists on producing Calaynos immediately after The Betrothal, 
 provided the latter should be successful. Thus you perceive 
 I will have two plays running at the same house, and both 
 concluding with a banquet. 
 
 To return to Calaynos. If I judge rightly, the second scene 
 of Act V. is what is called " a carpenter's scene " ; and therefore 
 you must have it, in order to set your last scene behind it. At 
 the best it must seem like an intrusion, as the action of the 
 play is suspended by it. The Athenceum says that this scene 
 " perilled the success of the tragedy on its original production," 
 and with gi'eat justice, I think. In the last scene I have intro- 
 duced a song, which has a strong bearing on the catastrophe, 
 and if suncr well, mi^ht be introduced with considerable effect — 
 provided music has the same power over an English audience 
 that it has over an American. I should advise that the music 
 of the first three lines be of a light, merry kind, concluding 
 with a slow, heavy movement in the fourth line. 
 
 I am sorry to have troubled you with all this matter about 
 a play Avhich you may have considered shelved long ago ; but 
 really I could not bear to see a play, supposed to have been 
 written by me, with so much of another man's material in it. 
 For my own satisfaction, the play, conclude as it may, must be 
 in my language. 
 
 Have you seen my second play, Anne Boleyn, which has been 
 published some months ? It strikes me that it might be used 
 with effect as a play for the holidays, being full of spectacle. 
 You can probably procure a copy of John Chapman in the 
 Strand. 
 
 My last play. The Betrothal, which I wrote entirely for the
 
 LETTERS. 399 
 
 stage, has not been published, as we American authors lose all 
 control over the production of our j)lays after they have been 
 published. 
 
 If you should reproduce Calaynos with my alterations, will 
 you be good enough to let me know of it ? 
 
 In the meantime, I remain, 
 
 Your obedient servant, 
 
 Mr. Samuel Phelps, G. H. Boker. 
 
 Londoii. 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS. 
 
 Westminster, 
 Monday Night, February 11 th, 1851. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 Permit me to thank you for adding another to the 
 list of Shakespearean treats your theatre has afforded me, and 
 which constitutes a very dearly cherished item in my pleasures 
 of memory. I have seen your Hamlet this evening for the 
 first time ; and for the first time have I seen the mind of that 
 noble and exquisite creation embodied and rendered palpable 
 to the eye and heart of the spectator. I have seen several stage 
 Hamlets, but never Shakespeare's till now. So fresh, so now, 
 so clear is your portraiture that I could not avoid troubling you 
 with the expression of my pleasure and my obligation, I am 
 ignorant of Mr. Charles Kemble's Hamlet ; but nobody since his 
 time has made us feel, as you do, Hamlet's grief, his filial love — 
 in all its depth and fulness — and the exquisite refinement and 
 spirituality of his character. These are so finely "expressed that 
 tlie agony of his situation and the utter repugnance of its 
 requirements to his nature are intensely felt throughout the 
 play. Moreover, the real worshippers of Shakespeare owe you 
 a world of thanks for giving them a performance free from 
 stage quackeries and conventional tricks. It is inexpressibly 
 refreshing to see the forms and dictates of simple nature so 
 faithfully adhered to. Nothing can surpass the beauty and 
 affecting power of the chamber scene with the Queen — so new 
 in style, yet so simple and truthful, but so tremendous in efiect. 
 Never have I witnessed that scene before without a wretched 
 violation of all ti-uth, propriety, and force, in order that llii> 
 Queen shall throw herself into the arms of Hamlet (who is
 
 400 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 obviously preparing himself for the event) for the purpose of 
 making a stage tableau. I must tell you also that I felt con- 
 vinced this evening that had the stage exhibited in former 
 times any su(;fi plain and obvious interpretation of the story 
 and character of Hamlet as yours, the many disquisitions and 
 squabbles about Hamlet's consistency and madness would never 
 have arisen. Doubtless a careful study of the text and of 
 human nature will always settle the point; but the text in 
 action, and intellectually rendered, conveys the truth more 
 rapidly and forcibly. 
 
 Miss Glyn's performance is, as usual, good, and full of intelli- 
 gence. 
 
 The strong sentiinent of grief in the Ghost's (Mr. H. Marston's) 
 tone, and the cx^yressivc instead of the monotonous reading usually 
 employed, struck me as a great improvement. 
 
 There is nothing new in saying that ghosts never knew how 
 to vanish till they learned to do so at Sadler's Wells. You have 
 taught managers the use of darkness. 
 
 I see your benefit is announced for Thursday week, and wish 
 the house was three times larger for that occasion, for I am 
 sure it would be filled. That you will have " a bumper " there 
 is no doubt, and I hope nothing will prevent me from being 
 one of the drops in the overflowing goblet on that occasion. I 
 am speculating on what the revival may be. 
 
 I hope you will excuse this trespass on your time, from one 
 who almost regards Shakespeare as a second Deity, and an 
 honest interpreter of him as one of the dearest ornaments to 
 intellectual society. Believe me, my dear Sir, with all sincerity 
 and admiration, yours, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq. W. M. Whitney. 
 
 P.S. — I much regret that the retirement of my uncle from 
 the editorship of the Morning Advertiser causes me to lose the 
 occasional opportunity of paying a public tribute of praise to 
 your establishment. 
 
 London, December 18th, 185L 
 
 Sir, 
 
 Last night I went to Sadler's Wells for the purpose 
 of witnessing your Sir Pertinax Macsycophant. I have been a 
 regular play-goer for the past fifteen years — seen all the best 
 actors and plays ; but, Sir, I unhesitatingly say, that your per- 
 formance yesterday evening was incomparably the greatest I have
 
 LETTERS. 401 
 
 ever witnessed ; and I hasten to congratulate you upon the 
 great acquisition you have made to your rdiJcrtoire. 
 
 Your obedient servant, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq. A Scotchman. 
 
 Scvitish Society and Hanover Park CJuh, 
 Peckham, January Gth, lSo'2. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 Several members of this Society and Club have wit- 
 nessed the revival of The Man of the World at Sadler's Wells 
 with much satisfaction, more especially your admii-able personi- 
 fication of their countryman, Sir Pertinax Macsycophant, so 
 truly, so broadly, and so correctly given, without any tinge of 
 provincialism. They consider it due to you to express their 
 admiration of your performance, on which the main strength 
 lies, and of the most efficient and correct manner in which the 
 whole performance is sustained by every performer. In con- 
 veying, as requested, this expression of feeling from a body of 
 Scotchmen, I can add personally that I have had the gratifica- 
 tion of seeing the late tragedian Cooke, and also the resjDecced 
 Charles Young, once the Polar star of your profession, perform 
 Sir Pertinax, and it is no reflection on them to say that you 
 excel them both. There is much difficulty in an Englishman 
 grasping the Scottish dialect and guttural pronunciation : these 
 you master, and show to the life a Scotchman thirty years 
 domiciled in England. Some word.^ form exceptions, such as 
 "thinking," "blinking" — in these the g final is dispensed with ; 
 and " eyes " is not a Scotch word — invariably in the singular it 
 is "ee," and in the plural "een." The fault here is not yours, 
 but is that of the author Macklin himself, an Irishman, the 
 text being eyes : he doubtless counted on his privilege, and 
 blundered. 
 
 The veritable Sandy Gordon " still lives a worthy gentleman," 
 and occupies the old Counting House in the City. There are 
 many glossaries of the Scottish dialect accessible, and that of 
 Professor Jamiesou bears a high impress. I am. Sir, 
 
 Your very obedient servant, 
 
 John Masson, 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq. Chairman of Conuuittee.
 
 402 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 Hachney lioad, 
 
 December 3rd, 1857. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 I was from home, or should have acknowledged your 
 letter earlier. I feel much obliged for the admissions you have 
 been kind enough to send me, and self and family will avail of 
 them. I regret to think you should take it as a complaint ; 
 on the contrary, I said we were much delighted and perfectly 
 satisfied with the admirable -manner you have produced As You 
 Like It. I should not have written but from an observation 
 that a friend made some time ago. I frequently meet several 
 of your admirers who Avere pTtiy-goers in Edmund Kean and 
 Kemble's glorious days, and they, like me, care not for any house 
 but yours. In course of conversation he said he did not think 
 the Times acted fairly in its reports. This I had frequently 
 noticed, but the Times is the Times, and I was ungenerous 
 enough to accuse it of wilful mistakes. Allow me to thank 
 you, and beg you will excuse my taking up so much of your 
 valuable time ; but we cannot refrain from expressing our 
 opinion that Edmund Kean will never die while you favour 
 the stage with your support. 
 
 I saw Kean many times in each of his characters, and, " nay, 
 do not think I flatter," when last I saw you in Sir Giles Over- 
 reach I was transported, and my friend detected me several 
 times saying, " Well done, Kean !" Your passion scene, I may say, 
 surpassed his ; so does your Hamlet. One character I longed to 
 see Kean in — that was lago ; for weeks he was announced for 
 it, and play-goers were on tiptoe for it, but never saw it. I was 
 there the night he was taken ill — his first appearance with his 
 son — when Warde finished the part. 
 
 I was also acquainted with old Mr. Garner, librarian at 
 Margate. In George III.'s time he was a theatrical, and had 
 seen Garrick sixty-three times ; he saw Sir Giles Avitli me, and 
 said Kean's was as good as Garrick's — I may safely say same 
 of yours. Pray excuse this, and do not be offended with me. 
 " I cannot choose but blab " when Shakespeare is my cue. 
 
 Yours most respectfully, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq. A. R. Goddard. 
 
 P.S. — Your letter I shall preserve with my relics.
 
 LETTERS. 403 
 
 6, Kent Terrare, Jlegent's Park. 
 My Dear Sir, Tuesday, , 1863. 
 
 Our personal acquaintance is slight, but it was 
 formed on an occasion neither of us is likely to foroet: it 
 was when you gave j^our kind assistance to an effort in favour 
 of the family of Douglas Jerrold. This may be my apology 
 for addressing you without further introduction. My object 
 is merely to enclose to you a few lines which I have had the 
 opportunity of inserting in to-morrow's Punch, and to say, 
 privately, that the intellectual pleasure afforded by your person- 
 ation of what is, I suppose, about as difficult a character as is 
 to be found in the range of the modern drama, is a gratification 
 of the highest order to some of us who have not been quite 
 spoiled for poetr}^ by the vulgarity and nonsense of the new 
 school — if it deserve the name. Pray accept, in the spirit in 
 which it is made, a tribute paid in all sincerity. I Avish 
 Douglas Jerrold had lived to write on Manfred as he did on 
 The Midsummer Night's Dream. Believe me, my dear Sir, 
 
 Yours most sincerely, 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq. Shirley Brooks. 
 
 (The then Editor of Punch) 
 
 5, Wood Street, Stratford-nn-Avon, 
 My Dear Sir, January 2'ith, 1864. 
 
 I have to thank you most warmly for your verj'- 
 kind letter, received this morning. It is to me entirely satis- 
 factory, and no less so to those who made me very uncomfortable 
 on the subject. 
 
 Commentary from me on the facts you state is unadvisable. 
 But this much I may safely say, that, having been a worshipper i 
 of the great William Charles Macready (tragedians " more 
 terribly in earnest " there may have been : I never saw them), 
 I must have regarded you as his legitimate successor, if he had 
 not pointed you out himself as the man to uphold the British 
 Drama. But fortified in my judgment by his memorable 
 deliverance on tbe subject, I have always regarded you since his 
 retirement as the British Actor par excellence, and have made 
 no secret of my opinion, either in conversation or in writing. 
 You will therefore understand my views and feelings on the 
 entire matter. Again thanking you for your full, can<lid, and 
 cordial reply to my note of Monday evening, 1 am, my dear Sir, 
 with profound respect. Ever fiitlifully yours, 
 
 Samuel Phelps, Esq. Koleut E. Hunter. 
 
 D n 2
 
 404 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, COVEKT GAEDEX, 
 
 This lyi'esent Thursday, October IMh, 1814, 
 
 WILL BE ACTED OTVVAY's TRAGEDY OF 
 
 VENICE PRESERVED. 
 
 The Duke of Venice Mr. Creswell 
 
 Priuli ... Mr. Egerton Bedamar ... Mr. Barrymore 
 
 Jaffier Mr. Conway 
 
 Pierre Mr. Young 
 
 Renault ... Mr. Chapman _ Spinosa ... Mr. Claremont 
 
 Elliot ... Mr. Hamerton Theodore ... Mr. King 
 
 Mezzana ... Mr. Norris Durand ... Mr. Grant 
 
 Captain of the Guard ... Mr. Jefferies Officer ... Mr. Treby 
 
 Belvidera ... Miss O'Neill 
 
 (Being her first appearance in that character) 
 
 To which will be added, for the 9th time, a New Melo-Drama. in 
 three acts, (Founded on an Historical Fact) called 
 
 THE FOREST OF BONDY; 
 
 Or, the dog of MONTARGIS. 
 
 The Overture and the whole of the Musick composed by Mr. Bishop. 
 The Action arranged by Mr. Farley. 
 
 Colonel Gontran lilR. Barrymore 
 
 Captain Aubri Mr. Abbott 
 
 Lieutenant Macaire ... ... ... ... ... ... Mr. Farley 
 
 Lieutenant Landry Mr. Hamerton 
 
 The Seneschal of Bondy Mr. Egerton 
 
 Florio (a Dumb Orphan) Miss S. Booth 
 
 Blaise Mr. Liston 
 
 Ensign ... Mr. Duruset Sergeant ... Mr. Howell 
 
 Dame Gertrude Mrs. Davenport 
 
 Annette ... Mrs. Norman Louise ... Miss West 
 Lucille Miss Foote 
 
 In Act I., a Pastoral Pas de Deux by MoNS. SoissoNS and Mrs. Parker. 
 
 Vivant Rex et Regina. 
 
 The Publick are respectfully informed that Miss O'Neill's third per- 
 formance of Juliet was greeted with the most rapturous and unprecedented 
 applause from an overflowing audience, and that she will rejDcat that 
 Character on Monday next. 
 
 *^* No Orders can he admitted. 
 
 ^^ The Publick are respectfully informed that Mr. Kemble is engaged 
 at this Theatre, and that due notice will be given of his first appearance.
 
 PLAY-BILLS. 405 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, DRUEY LANE. 
 
 Tills present Thursday, November lOfJi, 1814, 
 
 THEIR majesties' SERVANTS WILL PERFORM, THIRD TIME AT THIS 
 THEATRE, SHAKESPEARE's TRAGEDY OF 
 
 MACBETH. 
 
 The Original Musick by M. Locke. — With an Overture and 
 Act Symphonies, by Mr. Horn. 
 
 Duncan, King of Scothind ... ... ... ... ... Mr. Powell 
 
 Malcohn ... Mr. I. .WallaTk Donalbain ... Miss Carij 
 
 Macbeth Mr. Kkan 
 
 Banquo ... Mr. Pope MacduflE ... Mr. Rae 
 
 Lenox ... Mr. Elrington Rosse ... Mr. Holland 
 
 Fleance ... Miss S. Carr Siward ... Mr. R. Phillips 
 
 Seyton ... Mr. Crooke Physician ... Mr. Maddocks 
 
 Serjeant ... Mr. Waldegrave Murderers ... Messrs. Cooke, Chatterley 
 Officers ... Messrs. Buxton, Hope, Mathews, Coste, Brown, Appleby, 
 
 Jameson, Whyber, West 
 
 Lady Macbeth Mrs. Bartley 
 
 Gentlewoman ... Miss Tidswell Hecate ... Mr. Bellamy 
 
 First Witch ... Mr. Dowton Second Witch ... ]Mr. Knight 
 
 Third AVitch Mr. Lovegrove 
 
 Apparitions Mr. I. West, Miss A. Carr, Miss C. Carr 
 
 Principal Singing Witches ... Messrs. Philipps, Pyne, Smith, J. Smith,. 
 Lee, Gattie, Barnard, Marshall, Penley, Mrs. Dickons, Mrs.. Bland, 
 Miss Kelly, Mrs. Orger, Miss Poole, Mrs. Harluwe 
 Chorus of Witches and Spirits. 
 
 To which will be added, 8th time, a Comick Drama, in two acts, 
 (taken from the French) called 
 
 JEAN DE PARIS. 
 
 Jean de Paris ... Mu. Elliston Seneschal ... Mr. Lovegrove 
 
 Theodore ... Mr. I. Wallack Larry Mac Muggins ... Mr. Johnstone 
 Princess of Navarre ... Mrs. Edwin Olivier ... Miss Kelly 
 
 Lorezza Mrs. Orgek 
 
 In Act II. a New Ballet, composed by Mr. Byrne. — The Musick by 
 
 Mr. Horn. 
 Principal Characters in the Ballet ... Misses Smith, Johannot, Vallancy, 
 
 Ruggles, S. Hart, Harrison 
 
 *if* The New Comick Drama of Jean de Paris, is published by 
 Whittingham & Arli8,_ Paternoster Row, and may be had in the Theatre. 
 
 Shakespeare's Tragedy of Macbeth, which was revived on Saturday, 
 with extraordinary Splendour, having been a Second Time accompanied 
 throughout the whole I'crformance willi the approving Acclamations of an 
 immense Concourse of Spectators, will be repeated Tliis Evening, Saturday, 
 and Thursday next. 
 
 *if* Mr. Kean will repeat the Character of King Richard IH, every 
 Monday till further Notice. 
 
 VivANT Rex et Regina. No Money to be returned.
 
 406 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, COVENT GAEDEK 
 
 This present Friday, Novemher lltli, 1814, 
 
 WILL BE ACTED SOUTHERN'S TBAGEDY OF 
 
 ISABELLA; 
 
 Or, the fatal MARklAG.E. 
 
 Count Baldwin Mr. Murray 
 
 Biron ... ... ... ... ... ... ... Mr. Young 
 
 Biron's Son ... Master G. Parsloe Carlos ... Mr. Abbott 
 
 Villeroy ... Me. Egeeton Maurice ... Mr. Jefferies 
 
 Belford Mr. Claremont 
 
 Gentlemen Messrs. George, Goodwin, Sarjant 
 
 Officer ... Mr. Atkins Samson ... Mr. Simmons 
 
 Sancbo ... Mk. Yarnold Manuel ... Mr. Heath Juan ... Mr. Louis 
 
 Tipstaves Messrs. Brown and Powers 
 
 Bravos Messes. King, Grant, Plait 
 
 Isabella Miss O'Neill 
 
 (Being her second appearance in that character) 
 
 Ladies Mesdames Bologna, Coates, Heath, Ryall, Sexton 
 
 Nurse Mrs. Emery 
 
 In Act III. an Epithalamium — The Vocal Parts by Miss Matthews, Mrs. 
 Sterling, Messrs. I. Brown, Noeris, Tinney. 
 
 To which will be added (at the Particular Request of numerous Parties) 
 
 the last new Melo- Drama of 
 
 THE FOREST OF BONDY; 
 
 Or, the dog of MONTARGIS. 
 
 *^* The Publick are respectfully informed that Miss O'Neill performed 
 the character of Isabella with a success perfectly unprecedented ; she 
 •will repeat that character on every Friday — the part of Belvideea on 
 every Wednesday — and Juliet every Monday till further notice. 
 
 *^* Mr. Kemble's nights of performing will be on Tuesday and 
 Thursday next. 
 
 *#* No Orders can he admitted.
 
 PLAY-BILLS. 407 
 
 THEATRE EOYAL, COVENT GARDEN. 
 
 This in-esent Thursdaij, December 8th, 1814, 
 
 WILL BE ACTED SHAKESPEARE'S TRAGEDY OP 
 
 KING JOHN. 
 
 John, King of England Mr. Kemble 
 
 Prince Henry ... Mr. Menage Earl of Pembroke ... Mr. Treby 
 
 Earl of Essex Mr. Hamerton 
 
 Earl of Salisbury ... Mr. Barrymore 
 
 Hubert ... Mr. Egerton Faulconbridge ... Mr. Conway 
 
 Robert Faulconbridge ... ... ... ... ... Mr. King 
 
 English Herald ... ... ... ... ... ... I\[r. Jefferies 
 
 James Gurney ... ... ... ... ... ... Mr. Crumpton 
 
 Executioners Messrs. Atkins and Banks 
 
 English Knights Messrs. Batt, Grant, Louis, Thurston 
 
 Philip, King of France Mr. Murray 
 
 Lewis, the Dauphin ... Mr. Abbott Prince Arthur ... Master Chapman 
 Archduke of Austria ... ... ... ... ... Mr. Creswell 
 
 Cardinal Pandulph... ... ... ... Mr. Chapman 
 
 Chatillon ... Mr. Claremqnt French Herald ... Mr. Howell 
 
 Citizens of Anglers Messrs. Duruset, Powers, Brown 
 
 F'rench Knights Messrs. Heath, Platt, Sarjant, Yarnold 
 
 Queen Elinor ... ... ... ... ... ... Mrs. Egerton 
 
 The Lady Constance Mrs. Faucit 
 
 Blanch, of Castile Miss Bristow 
 
 Lady Faulconbridge Miss Logan 
 
 To which will be added (for the 3rd time) a New Farce called 
 
 THE KING AND THE DUKE; 
 
 Ob, which is which? 
 
 Tlie Pnblick are respectfully informed that Miss O'Neill, having re- 
 covered from her late severe Indisjjosition, the following arrangements 
 have been made to meet, in sonic degree, the unprocedcnloil apiilicalions for 
 her performances — To-morrow she will act the character of Isarklla — on 
 Monday, Belvidera — and on Wednesday she will appear for the First 
 Time in the character of Mrs. Beverlky in the Tragedy of The Gamester 
 — and Juliet on Monday the lOtli. 
 
 %* Mk. Kemble's nights of performing will be on Tuesday and 
 Thursday next. 
 
 *^* Xo Orders can be admitted.
 
 408 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 THE LAST NIGHT OF MR. KEMBLE'S PERFORMANCE. 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, COVENT GAEDEK 
 
 This present Tuesday, December 20th, 1814, 
 (by particular desire) Shakespeare's tragedy of 
 
 MACBETH. 
 
 The Overture and Symphonies between the Acts by Mr. Ware. 
 The Vocal Musick by Matthew Locke. 
 
 Duncan, King of Scotland Mr. Murray 
 
 Malcolm ... Mr. Abbott Donalbain ... Mr. Menage 
 
 Macbeth Mr. Kejiele 
 
 Macduff ... Mr. Conway Banquo ... Mr. Barrymore 
 
 Fleance ... Master C. Parsloe Lenox ... Mr. Creswell 
 
 Rosse ... Mr. Hamerton Siward ... Mr. Atkins 
 
 Seyton ... Mr. Claremont Physician ... Mr. Chapman 
 
 Othcers ... Messrs. King and Jefferies 
 
 Chamberlains Messrs. Heath and Sarjant 
 
 Lady Macbeth ... Mrs. Renaud 
 
 Gentlewoman ... ... ... ... ... ... Miss Logan 
 
 Ladies ... Mesdames BoLOGNA, CoRRi, Heath, Ryall, St anden, West 
 
 Hecate Mr. Incledon 
 
 Witches Messrs. Blanchard, Farley, Simmons 
 
 Apparitions Mr. Howell, Miss S. Goodwin, Miss C. GooDwiN 
 
 The principal Vocal Witches ... Messrs. Sinclair, Taylor, Broadhurst, 
 DuRUSET, TiNNEY, Slader, I. Brown, Crumpton, Everard, Lee, Linton, 
 Montague, Norris, J. Taylor, I. Terry, Tp:tt, S. Tett, C. Tett, 
 Treby, Watson, Williams, &c., &c., Miss Matthews, Mrs. Liston, Mrs. 
 Bishop; Mrs. Sterling, Mrs. Davenport, Miss S. Booth, Miss Bristow, 
 Miss Foote, Mesds. Carew, Coates, Davies, Emery, Findlay, Grimaldi, 
 Herbert, Hibbert, Iliff, Kennedy, Leaver, Leferve, Norman, Sexton, 
 Ward, W^atts, Whitmore, &c., &c. 
 
 After which (10th time) a New Farce called 
 
 THE KING AND THE DUKE, 
 
 Or, which is WHICH? 
 
 *j(* The Publick are respectfully informed that Miss O'Neill acted the part 
 of Mrs. Beverley with a success fully commensurate to her former 
 enthusiastically admired Performances — and in order to repeat it with- 
 out disappointment to those numerous Parties who have obtained the 
 Boxes for her other Characters, slie will act One Extra Niglit in this 
 week — therefore to-morrow she will perform Belvidera ; on Thursday, 
 Mrs. Beverley ; and on Friday, Isabella (being the last night before 
 the holidays) ; and on Monday, the 9tli of January, she will repeat 
 Juliet. 
 
 *^* No Orders can he admitted.
 
 PLAY-BILLS. 409 
 
 MISS O'NEILL'S NIGHT. 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, COVEXT GARDEN. 
 
 This present Saturday, April 29th, 1815, 
 
 AVILL BE PERFORMED THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 THE GRECIAN DAUGHTER. 
 
 Evander Mr. Young 
 
 Dionysius ... Mr. Conway Pliocion ... Mr. Abbott 
 
 Melanthon ... Mr. Murray Philotas ... Mr. Terry 
 
 Areas ... Mr. Jefferies Herald ... j\Ir. Creswell 
 
 Euphrasia Miss O'Neill 
 
 (Being her first appearance in that character) 
 Erixene Miss Bristow 
 
 After which (2nd time) IMilton's revived Masque of 
 
 COMUS. 
 
 The Scenery, Machinery, Dances, Dresses, and all other Decorations are 
 
 entirely new. 
 
 The original Musick by Handel and Arne. With additions by Bishop. 
 
 The Overture by Cherubini. The Scenery painted by Messrs. Phillips, 
 
 Whitmore, Pugh, Grieve, Hollogan, Hoogins, and tl:eir assistants. 
 
 The Machinery by Mr. Saul. The Decorations by Mr. Bradwell. 
 
 The Dresses by Mr. Flower and Miss Egan. 
 
 Comue Mr. Conway 
 
 Spirit j\Ir. Duruset 
 
 Elder Brother ... Mr. Abbott Younger Brother ... Miss FooTE 
 
 Bacchanals ... Messrs. Incledon, Sinclair, Taylor, Broadhurst,Tinney, 
 
 Slader, Treby, King, Norris, I. Brown, Everakd, Lee, Linton, 
 
 Montague, I. Terry, Tett, C. Tett, S. Tett, Watson, Williams 
 
 Lady IMrs. Faucit 
 
 First Bacchante, and Pastoral Nymph ... ... Miss Stephens 
 
 Second Bacchante, and Etiphrosyne ... ... ... i\Iiss Matthews 
 
 Third Bacchante, and Sabrina ]\Iks. Bishop 
 
 Fourth Bacchante ... Mrs. Liston Fifth Bacchante ... Mrs. Sterling 
 Other Bacchantes and Wood Nymjihs ... Mesdames Boyce, Carew, Chip, 
 
 CoATES, CoRKi, Davies, Davis, Findlay, Grimaldi, Herbert, Hibbeut, 
 
 Ii.iFF, Lever, Norman, Ryall, Sexton, West, Whitmore, &c. 
 
 Bacchanalian Dance ... Mrs. Parker 
 
 Dance of Naiades and Nereides Mons. Soissons, Miss Luppino, Messrs. 
 
 Brown, Grant, Heath, LdUis, Platt, Saiuant, Sutton, White, IMesds. 
 
 Bradwell, Bologna, 13oyce, Heath, Louis, Eyall, S'ianden, Watts 
 
 *j(* Books of the Masque, as it is represented, may be had in the Theatre, 
 
 price 10c?. 
 
 Miss O'Neill will perform on Tuesday, Tliursday, and Saturday next 
 week. On Tijursd;iy, MiiS. IIali.ku. Mr. Kemble will perforui, on [Monday, 
 Coriolanus — on Thursday, The Stranger. 
 
 *^* No Orders can he admitted.
 
 410 
 
 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, DEUEY LANE. 
 
 This present Monday, February \2th, 1816, 
 
 THEIR majesties' SERVANTS WILL PERFORM (TENTH TIME AT THIS 
 
 theatre) massinger's plat of 
 
 A NEW WAY TO PAY OLD DEBTS. 
 
 Mr. Carr 
 
 Lord Lovell ... 
 
 Sir Giles Over-reach 
 
 Wellborn 
 
 Alhvorth 
 
 Welldo , 
 
 Marrall 
 
 Tapwell 
 
 Furnace 
 
 Watchall 
 
 Vintner 
 
 Servants 
 
 Justice Greedy 
 
 Mr. Wewitzer 
 Mr. Penley 
 Mr. Maddocks 
 Mr. Cooke Creditors 
 
 Mr. Holland 
 Mr. Kean 
 Mr. Harley 
 Mr. S. Penley 
 . Mr. Oxberry 
 Mr. M UN den 
 .. Mr. Hughes 
 ... Mr. Minton' 
 . Mr. Coveney 
 
 Lady AUworth ... 
 Margaret ... Mrs. Horn 
 
 Order 
 
 Amble 
 
 Taylor . 
 
 . Mr. Buxton and Mr. Evans 
 
 Messrs. Mathews, Goodman, Vials, G. Wells, Appleby, 
 
 Brown, Cooper 
 
 Mrs. Glover 
 
 Froth ... Miss Tidswell 
 
 To which will be added (2nd time this Season) the comick Opera of 
 
 ROSINA. 
 
 Mr. Kean will repeat the Character of Sir Giles Over-reach, in A NEW 
 WAY TO PAY OLD DEBTS, every Friday and Monday, and will appear 
 in Macbeth on Wednesday. 
 
 The two young ladies, who appeared on Saturdaj' Evening, as Rosina 
 and Phcebe, were received with unbounded and unanimous Applause, and 
 will perform those Parts, for the 2ud and 3rd times. This Evening and on 
 Thursday next.
 
 PLAY-BILLS. 411 
 
 MR. YOUNG'S NIGHT. 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, COVENT GAEDEK 
 
 This present Wednesday, May 2dfJi, 1816, 
 
 WILL BE ACTED SHAKESPEARE's PLAY OF 
 
 CYMBELINE. 
 
 C3-inbeline Mr. Egerton 
 
 Polydore (for that night only) Mr. C. Kemble 
 
 Cadwcil ]Mr. Abbott 
 
 Cloten ... (first time, and for that night only) ... Mr. Liston 
 
 Morgan ... (first time, and for that niglit only) ... Mr. Terry 
 
 Leonatus Posthumus ... ... ... ... ... j\Ir. Kemble 
 
 lachimo Mr. Young 
 
 Queen ... Mrs. Egerton Helen ... Miss Boyce 
 
 Imogen (first time) Miss Stephens 
 
 In Act II. Dr. Cooke"s favourite Glee of " Hark, the Lark," by 
 jMessrs. Taylor, Norris, Tinney, and Miss Carew. 
 
 End of the Play, a New Divertisement, in which IMr. Noble and Miss 
 LuPPiNO will dance the celebrated Spanish Bolero. 
 
 After which, a favourite Comick Interlude, called 
 
 SYLVESTER DAGGERWOOD. 
 
 Sylvester Daggerwood ... (for that night only) ... Mr. Mathews 
 
 (Being his first appearance in that character), in which he will introduce 
 
 the Song of " Manager Strut." 
 
 In tlje course of the Evening, the favourite Song of 
 
 " Last Week I took a Wife," by j\Ir. ]Matuews, 
 
 And " London Improvements • or the Gas Lights and Water Works," 
 
 by Mr." Emery. 
 
 With (for that night only) a Grand Melo-Dramatick Komance, called 
 
 THE FORTY THIEVES. 
 
 Miss O'Neill will perform To-morrow, Mrs. Beverley; on Monday, 
 
 EurniasiA ; and on Thursday, June filii, Mrs. Oakley. 
 Mr. Kemble will perform on Friday, Cardinal Wulsey ; on Monday, 
 
 Evan'oeu.
 
 412 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, 
 COYENT GAEDEN. 
 
 This present Wednesday, February \Wi, 1817, 
 
 WILL BE ACTED SHAKESPEARE's TRAGEDY OF 
 
 KING EICHAED III. 
 
 King Henry VI Mr. Egerton 
 
 Prince of Wales ... Miss GooDWiN Duke of York ... Miss Adcock 
 
 Eichard, Duke of Gloster Mr. Booth 
 
 (Of the Brighton and Worthing Theatres) 
 
 Duke of Buckingham Mr. Barrymore 
 
 Duke of Norfolk ... Mr. Comer Earl of Oxford ... Mr. Menage 
 
 Henry, Earl of Kichmond ... ... ... ... Mr. Abbott 
 
 Lord Stanley Mr. Chapman 
 
 Lord Mayor of London Mr. Atkins 
 
 Sir W. Brandon ... Mr. Connor Sir James Blunt ... Mr. King 
 
 Sir Richard Katcliff Mr. Treby 
 
 Sir Wm. Catesby Mr. Claremont 
 
 Sir Robert Brakenbury ... ... ... ... ... Mr. Jefferies . 
 
 Sir James Tyrrel Mr. Norris 
 
 Aldermen Messrs. Lee and Crumpton 
 
 Officer ... Mr. Penn Forest ... Mr. White Dighton ... Mr. Louis 
 
 Queen Elizabeth Mrs. Faucit 
 
 Lady Anne ... Miss S. Booth Duchess of York ... Miss Logan 
 
 After which, 4th time, a New Ballet Divertisement (composed by 
 
 Mr. Noble) called 
 
 AUEOEA ; 
 
 Or, the flight OF ZEPHYR. 
 
 With, 8th time, a New Romantick Drama, in two acts, (founded on 
 
 ancient Fact) called 
 
 THE EAVENS; 
 
 Or, the force OF CONSCIENCE.
 
 PLAY-BILLS. 413 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, HAYMARKET 
 
 MR. PHELPS 
 
 {Of Provincial Celebrity) 
 
 WILL MAKE HIS FIRST APPEARANCE AT THIS THEATRE 
 
 In the character of SHYLOCK, this evening. 
 
 MRS. WAYLETT 
 Is engaged, and will appear in West Country Wooing. 
 
 MR. W. FARREN 
 
 Will appear in the character of U^^CLE FOOZLE. 
 
 Tliis Evening, Monday, August 2Sfk, 1837, 
 
 WILL BE PERFORMED 
 
 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 
 
 Shylock ... (his first appearance in London) ... Mr. Phelps 
 
 Tlie Duke ... Mr. Gough Bassanio ... Mr. J. Faucit Saville 
 
 Gratiano ... Mr. YiNiNG Lorpnzo ... Mr. Collins 
 
 Salanio ... Mr. Selby Salarino ... Mn. Worrell 
 
 Antonio ... Mr. Haines Launcelot ... Mn. Webster 
 
 Old Gobbo ... Mr. T. F. Mathews Balthazar ... Mr. Hunt 
 
 Tubal ... IMr. Bishop Portia ... Miss Hupdart 
 
 Nerissa ... Miss E, Philips Jessica ... Miss E. Taylor 
 
 After which (first time at this Theatre) the Musical Burletta of 
 
 WEST COUNTRY WOOING. 
 
 To which will be added the Comedy in Two Acts, entitled 
 
 ^lY WIFE'S MOTHER. 
 
 Mr. W. Farren, &c., &c. 
 
 To conclude with the Farce of 
 
 MAKE YOUR WILLS. 
 
 ]Mr. Strickland, &c., &c. 
 
 Mr. Power will repeat the characters of Siii Patrick O'Plkxipo, and Pat 
 KoONEY, to-morrow, being the last niglit hut one of his engagement.
 
 414 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, HAYMAEKET. 
 
 SWISS SWAIK'S having been unanimonsly received, will 
 be repeated Every Night. 
 
 Mesdames Glover, Nisbett, Humby, Fitzwilliam, Waylett, Gallot, 
 Beresford, Davenport, Tayleure, E. Honner, Wrighten, 
 Vandenhoff, W. Clifford, 
 
 Messrs. Phelps, Elton, Vining, Buckstone, Webster, Collins, Haines, 
 Strickland, Hemming, Gough, Worrell, T. F. Mathews, 
 Eoss, Gallot, Eay, Hutchings, Bishop, &c., &c. 
 
 This Evening, Friday, Octoher 6th, 1837, 
 
 WILL BE PRESENTED SHAKERPEARE's TRAGEDY OF 
 
 RICHARD III. 
 
 Duke of Glo'ster Mr. Phelps 
 
 King Henry ... Mr. Strickland Prince of Wales ... Miss Gallot 
 
 Duke of York Miss M. Gallot 
 
 Duke of Buckingham... ... ... ... ... Mr. Hemming 
 
 Duke of Norfolk Mr. Pi ay 
 
 Earl of Piiclimond ... ... ... ... ... Mr. Haines 
 
 Earl of Oxford ... Mr. Edwards Lord Stanley ... Mr. Gough 
 
 Lord Mayor ... Mr. Ross Sir Wm. Catesby ... Mr. Gallot 
 
 Lieutenant Mr. T. F. Mathews 
 
 Sir Piichard Ratcliffe ... Mr. Worrell Tressell ... Mr. Hutchings 
 
 Tyrrell ... Mr. Bishop Forrest ... Mr. Andrews 
 
 Queen Elizabeth Mrs. Glover 
 
 Lady Anne Miss Vandenhoff 
 
 Duchess of York Mrs. W. Clifford 
 
 After which (Second Time) an original Comic Operetta, called 
 
 SWISS SWAINS. 
 
 To which will be added Mr. Buckstone's popular Interlude of 
 
 MISCHIEF MAKING.
 
 PLAY-BILLS. 415 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, 
 COVENT GARDEN 
 
 This Evening, Friday, October 27th, 1837, 
 
 WILL BE PERFORMED OTWAY's TRAGEDY OF 
 
 VENICE PEESERVED. 
 
 The Duke o£ Venice ... Mr. Tilbury Priuli ... Mr. Waldron 
 
 Bedamar Mr. Diddear 
 
 Jaffier ... (his first appearance at this Tiieatre) ... Mr. Phelps 
 
 Pierre Mr. Macready 
 
 Renault ... Mr. G. Bennett Spinosa ... Mr. Pritchard 
 
 Elliott Mr. Roberts 
 
 Belvidera Miss Helen Faucit 
 
 During the evening the Band will perform Beethoven's Overture to 
 Egmont, and Rossini's Overture to The Mount of Olives. 
 
 After which the Musical Entertainment of 
 
 NO SONG, NO SUPPER. 
 
 Messrs. Manders, Bartley, Meadows, Leffler, &c. ; Miss Shireff, 
 Miss Land, Miss P. IIorton, and Mrs. Garrick. 
 
 Tof^conclude with the last New Farce (in One Act)_of 
 
 THE SPITFIRE. 
 
 Messrs. Bartley, Meadows, Miss P._Horton, «S:c,
 
 416 LIFE OF PHELPS: 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, HAYMAEKET. 
 
 The Public is respectfully informed that the eminent Tragedian, 
 
 Mr. MACEEADY, 
 
 Is engaged at this Theatre, and will make his First Appearance here this 
 season, in the Tragedy of Othello, this Evening. 
 
 First Appearances of 
 Mr. PHELPS and Miss HELEN" EAUCIT. 
 
 Mb. W. FARREN will perform Pierre Bonc(eur, To-Night. 
 
 This Evening, Monday, August \^th, 1839, 
 
 WILL BE PERFORMED THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 OTHELLO, THE MOOR OF VENICE. 
 
 Duke of Venice Mr. Gough 
 
 Brabantio (a Noble Venetian) Mr. Perkins 
 
 Gratiano (his Brother) Mr. Worrell 
 
 Lodovico (kinsman to Brabantio and Gratiano) ... Mr. Howe 
 
 (From the Theatre Royal, Covent Garden — his First Appearance) 
 
 Othello, the Moor (General for the Venetians in Cyprus) ... Mr. Macready 
 
 Cassio (his Lieut. -General) ... ... ... ... Mr. Cooper 
 
 lago (Standard-Bearer to Othello) Mr. Phelps 
 
 (From the Theatre Eoyal, Covent Garden — his First Appearance this Season) 
 
 Roderigo (a foolish Gentleman, in love with Desdemona) Mr. Walter Lacy 
 
 ■Mf . ( The Moor's predecessor in the Govern- ) ^r^ rr ., ,^ 
 
 Montano ■{ 4. i- n J- Mr. Hemming 
 
 ( ment ox Cyprus j 
 
 Messenger Mr. Green 
 
 Desdemona (Daughter to Brabantio, and Wife to Othello) Miss Helen Faucit 
 
 (From the Theatre Eoyal, Covent Garden — being her First Appearance at this Theatre) 
 
 Emilia (Wife to lago) Mrs. Warner 
 
 The following Pieces of INIusic will be performed in the course of the 
 evening : Overture, U Barbiere di Siviglia, Rossini ; Walzer, La Belle 
 Gabrielle, Strauss ; Overture, Cluq^eron Blanc, Auber. 
 
 Will be Performed (21st Time) a new Drama, in Two Acts, called 
 
 THE VILLAGE DOCTOR. 
 
 To conclude with the Farce of 
 
 JOHN JONES. 
 
 Positively the Last Nights but Five of ]\Ir. Power ; to-morrow he will 
 perform in Two Favourite Pieces. 
 
 Miss Ellen Tree is engaged at this Theatre, and will make her First 
 
 Appearance since her return from America, immediately after the 
 
 close of Mr. Power's Engagement.
 
 PLAY-BILLS. 
 
 4\: 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, 
 
 DRURY LANE 
 
 Mr. PHELPS 
 
 , Eespectfully announces tliat his Benefit is fixed for 
 
 Tuesday, May 30th, 1843, 
 
 WHEN WILL BE TEKFORMED SHAKESPEARE S PLAY OF 
 
 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 Leontes . . 
 
 Polixenes 
 
 Florizel .. 
 
 Antigonus 
 
 Camillo .. 
 
 Autolicus 
 
 Clown 
 
 Hermione 
 
 Paulina .. 
 
 Perdita 
 
 Mopsa 
 
 Dorcas 
 
 ... Mr. Macready 
 
 Mr. Kyder 
 ... Mr. Anderson 
 
 Mr. Phelps 
 ... i\lR. Elton 
 
 Mr. Compton 
 ... Mr. Keeley 
 
 IMiss Helen Faucit 
 ... Mrs. Warner 
 
 ]Mrs. Nisbet'i' 
 ... ]\Iits. Keelicy 
 
 Miss P. IIorton 
 
 AND OTIIEE ENTEKTAIN]\1ENTS. 
 
 E E
 
 418 
 
 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 EOYAL ITALIAN" OPERA, COVEifT GAEDEN". 
 
 THE SHAKESPEARE NIGHT, 
 
 Tuesday Evening, Decemher 1th, 1847, 
 
 Overture composed for the occasion, and conducted by Sir Henry Bishop. 
 
 Prologue written by Mr. Charles Knight, and recited by Mr. Phelps. 
 
 L— THE DEATH OF HENRY IV. 
 
 Second Part of King Henry IV. Act IV. Scene iii. 
 
 King Henry ... Mit. Maceeadt Prince Henry ... Mr. Leigh Muebat 
 
 II.— LAUNCE AND SPEED. 
 The Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act III. Scene i. t 
 
 Launce ... Me. Haeley Speed ... Me. BtJCKSTONE 
 
 III.— DEATH OF QUEEN KATHAPJNE. 
 
 Heury VIII. Act IV. Scene ii. 
 
 Queen Katharine ... ... ... ... ... ... Mrs. Butler 
 
 IV.— FALSTAFF'S EECRUITS BEFORE JUSTICE SHALLOW. 
 Second Part of King Henry IV. Act III. Scene ii. 
 Me. W. Faeren Silence . 
 
 v.— JULIET'S MARRIAGE DAY. 
 
 Eomeo and Juliet, the Fourth Act entire. 
 Juliet ... Miss Helen Faucit Kurse . 
 Friar Lawrence ... ... ... ... ... 
 
 VI.— KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO. 
 
 Shallow 
 
 Falstaff 
 
 Petrnchio 
 Grumio 
 
 Taming of the Shrew, portions of Act I. and Act IV. 
 Mr. "Webster Katharine ... 
 
 VIL— THE BUCK BASKET. 
 
 Me. H. Hall 
 Mr. Geanbt 
 
 Mrs. Glover 
 Mr. Diddear 
 
 Mes. Nisbett 
 Me. Keeley 
 
 The Merry "Wives of "Windsor, Act III. Scenes iii. and iv. ; Act IV. Scene iii. 
 Falstaff ... Mr. Granby Slender ... Mr. Charles Mattue"ws 
 Ford ... Me. ItOXBY Mrs. Page ... Madaaie Vestris 
 Page ... Mr. Parsellb Mrs. Ford ... Mrs. Stirling 
 Sir Hugh Evans ... Mr. Meado'WS Mrs. Quickly ... Mrs. C. Jones 
 Shallow ... Me. F. Mattuews Anne Page ... Miss Hoavard 
 Dr. Caius Mr. J. Bland 
 
 VIII.— THE STORY OF PROSPERO. 
 Tempest, Act I. Scene ii. 
 Mr. Phelps Miranda ... Miss Laura Addison 
 Mr. H. Maeston Ariel ... Miss P. Hoeton 
 Mr. G. Bennett 
 
 Prospero 
 
 Ferdinand 
 Caliban 
 
 Hermione 
 Leoutes . 
 
 IX.— THE STATUE SCENE. 
 
 A "Winter's Tale, Act V. Scene iii. 
 . Mrs. "Warner Paulina 
 
 Mr. Graham Perdita 
 
 Mrs. Tyrrell 
 Miss Angell
 
 PLAY-BILLS. 
 
 419 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, SADLEE'S ^VELLS. 
 
 Lessees— Messrs. GREENWOOD and PHELPS. 
 
 Under the Manao-ement of Mr. PHELPS. 
 
 BENEFIT FOR MRS. WARNER. 
 
 The Friends of the above Lady, who was so long Associated with tliis 
 
 Management, and tlie Public generally -are respectfully apprised that 
 
 T/tis Evening, Friday, Septemher I5fli, 1854, 
 
 Is fixed for the above purpose, on which occasion will be 
 performed Shakespeare's Play of 
 
 HENEY VIII. 
 
 Cardinal Wolsey Mr. Phelps 
 
 Queen Katharine Miss Cushman 
 
 (Her First and only Appearance at this Theatre) 
 
 After which 
 
 BLACK-EYED SUSAK 
 
 Wilham jMu. T. P. Cooke 
 
 Black-Eyed Susan Miss Cooper 
 
 Who, with Mr. Phelps and Miss Cushjiax, have generously conlributed 
 their gratuitous assistance, under the trying calamity which has for ever 
 deprived Mrs. Warner of the exercise of her profession. 
 
 Prices ou tbis occasion : Dress Circle, 5s. Boxes, 4s. Pit, 2s. Gallery, Is. 
 
 WILL BE PRESENTED SHAKESPEARE'S PLAY OF 
 
 HENEY YIII. 
 
 Henry VIII 
 
 Cardinal Wolsey ... 
 
 Cardinal CampL-ius ... Mr. J. A\^. Hay 
 
 Duke of ]iuekiiighani 
 
 Duke of Suffolk ... Mr. T. C. HAiiRis 
 
 Earl of Surrey 
 
 Bishop of Winchester ... Mr. Meagre! 
 
 Cromwell 
 
 Sir Henry Guildford 
 
 Sir W. Brandon ... Mr. C. Murtimer 
 
 Surveyor ... Mr. Lunt 
 
 Queen Katharine 
 
 Anne Bullen 
 
 Lady Denny ... Mrs. H. Maeston 
 
 ... Mr. Barrett 
 Mr. Phei.i'S 
 
 Capuciiis ... Mr. Lacy 
 ... ]\Ih, H. Marstox 
 Lord Chamberlain ... Mr. Josephs 
 Mr. KosKiNS 
 Sir T. LovcU ... Mr. Perfitt 
 ... Mr. Frederick Hobinson 
 Mr. C. Fentox 
 Lord Sands ... Mr. Lewis Ball 
 Clerk of Conrt ... Mr. Franks 
 ... Miss Cusiiman 
 Miss Cooter 
 Patience ... Miss Kate Hickson 
 
 After which Douglas Jerrold's Nautical Drama of 
 
 BLACK-EYED SUSAN. 
 
 William 
 
 Black-Eyed Susan 
 
 Mr. T. p. Cooku 
 
 ]\IlSS COOI'ER 
 
 To conclude with the laughable Farce of 
 
 OLD AND YOUNG. 
 
 K K 2
 
 420 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, DEUEY LAI^E. 
 
 Manac-ers— Messrs. ED:\IUND FALCONER and F. B. CHATTERTON. 
 
 On Monday, December lith, 1863, and During the Week, 
 
 Her Majesty's Servants will perform (Friday excepted) the New and 
 Original Farce, by W. BiiouGH and A. Halliuay, Esqs., entitled 
 
 MY HEART'S IN THE HIGHLANDS. 
 
 John O'Groat (a retired Tobacconist) ... ... ... ... Mb. J. Neville 
 
 Duncan Grey (a young Scottish Gentleman) ... ... ... Mr. Waede 
 
 Muggins (a Cockney Hairdresser) ... ... ... ... ... Me. G. Belmore 
 
 "Walker (a Cockney Greengrocer ... ... ... ... Me. G. Weston 
 
 Gillie (a Sjotch Serrant) ... Me. J. Morris Tibbie ... Mrs. C. Melville 
 
 Caledonia O'Groat (only Daughter of O'Groat) ... ... Miss Haefleue 
 
 Time — Present. 
 
 AFTER WHICH, COMMENCING AT A QUARTER BEFORE EIGHT, AND CONCLUDING 
 ABOUT TEN O'CLOCK, LORD BYRON'S CHORAL TRAGEDY OF 
 
 MANFRED. 
 
 MOETALS. 
 
 Manfred Mr. Phelps 
 
 Abbot of St. Maurice Me. Etdee 
 
 A Chamois Hunter ... ... ... ... ... Me. A. Eaynee 
 
 IManuel (an aged retainer) ... ... ... ... ... Me. Neville 
 
 Herman (a young domestic in the Castle of Manfred) ... ... Me. G. AVestoX' 
 
 Retainers ... Messes. Bedford, Weavee, Kirk, Wilson, Smith, and Edwards 
 
 IMMORTALS. 
 
 Mr. AYaede 
 
 Miss Leonti 
 
 Miss Louisa Eitter 
 
 Miss Poole 
 
 Miss Cicely Nott 
 
 Mr. Swift 
 
 Me. Meageeson 
 
 Mr. Etde 
 
 Mr. G. Spencer 
 
 Arimanes (Enler of the Evil Ageucies'i 
 
 Ariel (Spirit of the Ether) 
 
 Hesper (Spirit of the Stars) ... 
 
 Undine (Spirit of the Waters) 
 
 Miserima (Spirit of Memory) 
 Auster (Sj^irit of the Storm) 
 
 Astaroth (Spirit of the Earth) 
 
 Nubes (Spirit of the Shadow of Night) 
 Titanos (Spirit of the Mountains) 
 
 Nemesis (Goddess of Vengeance) Mrs. Edmund Falconer 
 
 Clotho "j ( Miss Emma Atkinson 
 
 Lachesis V the, Three Destinies < Miss C. Weston 
 
 Atropos j ( Miss Murray 
 
 The Phantom of Astarte ... ... ... ... ... Miss Eosk Leclerq 
 
 The Witch of the Alps Mrs. M. Eburne 
 
 Evil Agenci'iS and Spirit Spectres of the Weird World ... Messrs. T. Matthews, 
 
 J. Morris, J. Cormack, Miss Seymoue, Miss HAEFLEriE, Miss Geeen, Mes. C. 
 
 Melville, Mrs. Warlow, and the Lailies and Gentlemen of the Choir and the 
 
 Ballet. 
 
 Previous to the Tragedy, the Orcliestra will perform Schumann's celebrated 
 
 Overture to Manfred. 
 
 To conclude with the New and Highly Successful Farce, by 
 John Oxenford, Esq., entitled 
 
 BEAUTY OR THE BEAST.
 
 TLAY-BILLS. 421 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, DEURY LAXE. 
 Managers— Messrs. E. FALCONER a\d F. B. CHATTEETON. 
 
 Open for the Season for the Performance of the Legitimate Drama, 
 
 On Thursday and Saturday, November 3rd and 5th, 1864, 
 The Performances will commence witli the Farce of 
 
 TOO MUCH FOR GOOD NATURE. 
 
 On Friday, Noveml)er ith, 
 . The Performances will commence with the New and Original Farce of 
 
 THE O'FLAHERTYS. 
 
 After which, Each Evening, commencing at- Eight o'clock, produced on a 
 scale of great completeness, combining in the representation all tlie 
 Characters, Supernatural Agents, Choruses, Musical and Scenical 
 Illusions, Shakespeake's Tragedy of ^ 
 
 MACBETH. 
 
 The Scenery by Mr. William Beverley. 
 
 Duncan (King of Scotland) Mr. J. Neville 
 
 ]\Ialcolm ) , • Q^^^ ( Vl\k. G. F. Neville 
 
 Ti n • c 'lis oons ' -., ,,. 
 
 Doualbain j ••• ••• ••• •■• / Mr. \\ eaver 
 
 Macbeth)^, , ^ , , t-- . . ( Mr. Phelps 
 
 -o >■ benerals 01 the Kint;- s Army ... ... -^ ,. . ^ 
 
 Banquo ) o . ^ ^jj^ ^ Rayner 
 
 Macduff \ ( Mr. Creswick 
 
 Lennox > Noblemen of Scotland ... ... < Mr. Wardk 
 
 Rosse ) ( Mr. H. Sinclair 
 
 Fleance (Son to Banquo) Miss Collier 
 
 e- i( Earl of Northumbei land. General of the ) ^r tt,,^,. 
 Siward \ v v \ v r Mr. Fitzjames 
 
 ( Eiighsli forces ) 
 
 Seyton ... ]\Ir. Meagreson Physician ... Mr. LiCKFOLn 
 
 Bleeding Officer ]Mr. T. C. Harris 
 
 First and Second r^Iurderers IMkssrs. Simms and IIuward 
 
 First Officer ... i\lR. Bedford Second Officer ... ]\Ir. Glyndon 
 
 First Witcli ... Mr. G. Belmore Second Witch ... Mr. Edmund Phelps 
 
 Tliird Witch ... Mr. Robert Roxby Hecate ... ]\Ir. Bar-jlemax 
 
 First Singing Witcli ]\Iiss Rebecca Isaacs 
 
 Sf'cond Singing Witch ]\li8s Emma Heywoud 
 
 Third Singing Witch .' I\Ir. .Marler 
 
 Fourth Singing Witch ]\Ir. Mathieson 
 
 Lady Maclteth Miss Helen Faitcit 
 
 Gentlewoman Miss Grken 
 
 Previous to the Tragedy, the Orchestra will phiy L. Si'OHR's Overture to 
 
 MachvAh. 
 
 Musical Director, Mr. J. Barnard. Ballet Master, Mr. J. Cormack. 
 Prompter, Mr. J. Morris. Costumiers, Mr, S. May and Mrs, Lawlej.. 
 Machinist, Mr. J. Tikker. Properties, Mr. T, Nekuuam, * 
 Gas Appoiulmeots, Mr. J. Hinkley,
 
 422 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, DEUEY LANE. 
 Managers— Messrs. E. FALCONER axd F. B. CHATTERTON. 
 
 Last Six Nights of KING JOHN. 
 
 On Monday, Decemher IWt, 1865, and Every Evening during the WeeJi, 
 
 THE PEKFORMANCES WILL COMMENCE WITH (at SEVEN o'CLOCK PRECISELY) 
 
 Shakespeare's historical tragedy of 
 
 KING JOHN. 
 
 King John Mr. Phelps 
 
 Prmce Heury (his Son, afterwards King Henry III.) ... Miss E. Palconee 
 
 Arthur, Duke f Son to Geoffrey, late Duke of Bretagne, the Kt -n t^ 
 
 ofBretagnei elder Brother of King John ' j Master P. Eoselle 
 
 William Marshall (Earl of Pembroke) Me. McIxttrb 
 
 Geffrey Fitz-Peter (Earl of Essex, Chief Justiciary of England) ... Me. AVeatee 
 
 William Longsword (Earl of Salisbury) Mr. Edmund Phelps 
 
 Eobert Bigot (Earl of Norfolk) Mr. G. Yandexhoff 
 
 Hubert de Burgh (Chamberlain to the King) Mr. Swixbourne 
 
 Eobert Faulconbridge (Son of Sir Eobert Faulcoubridge) Mr. G. Weston 
 
 Philip Faulconbridge, afterwards f his Half- Brother, Bastard) , I- t 
 
 Sir Eichard Plantageuet \ Son to King Eichard I. / ^^^- ^^^^ Anderson 
 James Gurney (Servant to Lady Faulconbridge) ... Mr. J. Morris 
 
 Peter of Pomfret (a Prophet) Mr. J. Bedford 
 
 Philip, King of France 
 
 Louis, the Dauphin 
 Archduke of Austria ... 
 
 Cardinal Pandulph (the Pope's Legate) 
 
 Giles Vicomte Melun (a French Lord) 
 
 Chatillon (Ambassador from France to King John) ... 
 
 An English Herald 
 
 A French Herald ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ..„.„. ^„^„^„ 
 
 A Citizen of Anglers Me.' J. JSTetilIe 
 
 Elinor I ^^^ Widow of King Heury II. and Mother of ) ,^„„ tx tt 
 
 Jiiinor I j,.^^^ j^j^^ j Mrs. H. Vandenhoff 
 
 Constance (Mother to Arthur) Miss Atkinson 
 
 Blanche ( Daughter to Alphonse King of Castile, and \ Lecleeq 
 
 ( Niece to King John j ■^"^"''' ^^^^ i^ecleeq 
 
 Lady Faulconbridge { ^^^^^'^^ ^Fau'rco^n'Se^""^ ^"^''^ } ^^^"- ^^- ^°°^°^ 
 Lords, Ladies, Knights, Citizens of Anglers, Sheriffs, Heralds, Officers, Pages, 
 
 Soldiers, Messengers, Banner- Bearers, and Attendants, by Minor Members of the 
 
 Company, Ladies of the Ballet, and Supernumeraries. 
 
 Scene — Sometimes in England and sometimes in France. 
 
 Me. a. Eatner 
 Me. F. Baesbt 
 Me. J. Spencee 
 Me. Barrett 
 Mr. Meagreson 
 INIr. Chas. Haecotjet 
 Me. C. Warner 
 Mr."Lickfold 
 
 After which, the Highly Successful Comic Drama, by E. Falconer, entitled 
 
 GALWAY GO BRAGH ; 
 
 Or, love, fun, AND FIGHTING. 
 
 i\hi.sical Director, Mr. J. Barnard. Ballet Mnster, Mr. J. Cormack. 
 
 Prompter, :\Ir. Gates. Costumiers, Mr. S. May and Mrs. Lawler. 
 
 Machinist, Mr. J. Tucker. Properties by Mr. T. Needham. 
 
 Gas Appointments by Mr. J. Hinkley.
 
 PLAY-BILLS. 423 
 
 THEATEE KOYAL, DliURY LAXE. 
 Sole Lessee and Manager— Mr. F. B. CHATTERTON. 
 
 Great Success of Goethe's PLay. 
 
 " One would tliiuk that all tbe mcaus of representing magical apparitions had been 
 exiiausted ; but the orgies of the AValpiiruis niob are of a kind novel to the stage. 
 Witches and their familiars creep tbrotigh the chinks and crevices of jagged I'ocks, till 
 the scene is peopled bj' a "wild unruly mass, wliich, slinking away through the s;.mo 
 apertures, leaves behind it au equally wild solitude." — Times, October 22u(l, 18G0. 
 
 Monday, Novemher 12th, 1866, CDtd During the Wed; 
 
 WILL BE PERFORMED BY ITER MAJESTY'S SERVANTS, AN ADAPTATION, BY BAYLE 
 BERNARD, OF GOETHE'S ROMANTIC BLAY, IN FIVE PARTS, 
 
 FAUST. 
 
 "With ]\Ius;cal Illustrations selected from the Opera of Fmtft, by Sroni? ; The 
 Musical Drama of FauM, by ]jIshop ; The ll'aljnmiis Ai(/lit of Wkxdklm- 
 SOHN ; and the "Works of Haydn and Webee. The whole arranged by Mk. J. 
 H. TuLLY. The New and Elaborate Scenery designed and paintetl for the Play 
 by Me. "William Beveelet. The Dances, Groupings, and Melee Movement 
 invented and produced by Me. Johx Cokmack. The Sketches and Designs by 
 E. "W. Keexe, in accordance with the well-known outlines of Faust by Eetcu. 
 The general Action and Arrangements by Me. Edwakd Stiulixg, 
 
 Previous to the Play the Orchestra will perform Spohe's Overture to Fmist. 
 
 CHAEACTEES HUMAN. 
 
 Faust INFe. EDMTNn Phklps 
 
 Valentine (a Soldier) ... ... ... Me. AY. Haehison 
 
 Frosch ) I,- ^ • (Me. C. Wakxee 
 
 Branderj^'^*^°"^P^^°'^^ ( Mr. Fitzjames 
 
 Siebel ) c-i. i <- f Me. Ciiaeles Haecotjet 
 
 Wagner j^*^^'*^"*' I Me. R Baksby 
 
 Hans ) rMfi. Morton 
 
 Jacob > Townsmen < JIe. J. B. Johnstone 
 
 I'ete j (. Me. Natloe 
 
 Captain of the Guard Me. Lickfold 
 
 Jailor Me. J. Moebis 
 
 Citiz lis, Students, Soldiers &c. 
 
 Margaret Mes. Heemanx Vezik 
 
 Martha (her Friend) ]Mes. H. Vandenhuff 
 
 Elsie Ji ri • f IMiSS AnELAIBE GOLIEE 
 
 Katrenj'^'^'^'^""^?^"^""' | Miss F. Benneit 
 
 Lisa ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... Miss Poole 
 
 CHAEACTEES SEMI-HUMAN. 
 
 Mephistopheles IVIe. Phelps 
 
 Spirit of the Earth Mu. James Johnstone 
 
 Sycora.x ]\Iif. C. Seyton 
 
 Baubo ) ,,^. , , f Jin. William McIntyrb 
 
 Tegel pV'tches "1 Me. G. Spencku 
 
 Sibyl (The Beautiful Witcli) Miss Lizzie (Jeosvenok 
 
 Witches, Male and Female Elves of the Brockcn, &c. 
 
 To conclude with Shakespeare's Comctly of 
 
 KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO. 
 
 On ^Monday, November lOtli, Shakespkare's Play of 
 
 AS YOU LIKE IT. 
 
 Eosalind ... (hrtr First Appearance this Season) ... l\riss TTelkn Faicit 
 
 Orlando M k. Wai.tku Monhjomeuy 
 
 Jafpics ; Mit. T. SWINUOUENK
 
 424 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 THEATEE EOYAL, DEURY LANE. 
 Sole Lessee and Manager— Mr. F. B. CHATTERTON. 
 
 Historical and Sensation Drama, Farce, and Grand Ballet Divertisement. 
 
 KING O' SCOTS having achieved the greatest success of any drama ever produced at 
 this Theatre, to prevent disappointment an early appHcation for Seats is respect- 
 fully requested. Tickets to all parts of the Theatre to be obtained at the Box 
 Office from Ten till Five daily. 
 
 On Monday, October 26tJi, 1868, and Every Evening during the Week, 
 
 Her Majesty's Servants will perform the New and Original Farce, by 
 G. L. M. Strauss, entitled 
 
 A MODEL UNCLE. 
 
 In the course of the Evening the Band will perform the following Pieces : 
 
 Overture ... ... " Les Diamants de la Couronue " ... ... Auher. 
 
 Overture " King O' Scots " W.C.Levey. 
 
 New Quadrille " King O'Scots " TF. C. Levey. 
 
 (Published by Cramer & Co., Regent Street, with a splendid Title of Old 
 
 London Bridge.) 
 
 After which will be presented, at a Quarter to Eight, a New and Original 
 
 Drama, in Three Acts, entitled 
 
 KING 0' SCOTS. 
 
 Founded on Sir Walter Scott's celebrated Novel, The Fortiines of Nigel. 
 The Piece Written and Adapted by Andrew Halliday. 
 
 Tlie New and Magnificent Scenery, Illustrative of Old London, by William 
 Beverley. The Overture and Incidental ]\Iusic selected and arranged 
 by Mr. W. C. Levey. The Dances and Groupings of Crowds arranged 
 by Mr. John Cormack. The Costumes by Mr. Yokes and Mrs. Lawler, 
 from Authorities supplied by Mr. William Brunton. The whole 
 produced under the Direction of Mr. Edward Stirling. 
 
 CHAEACTEES IN THE DEAMA. 
 
 King James I Mr. Phelps 
 
 Prince Charles ... Me. Temple Duke of Buckingham ... Mr. F. Charles 
 
 Lord Dalgarno ... Mr H. Sinclair Nigel, Lord Glenvarloch ... Mr. E. Pricb 
 
 George Heriot (Jeweller to the King) Mr. Addison 
 
 David Earasay (a Watchmaker) ..: Mr. James Johnstone 
 
 Sir Mungo Malagrowther (a Cynical Courtier) Mr. John Eouse 
 
 Eichie Mouiplies (Nigel's Scotch Servant) Mr. G. Cumming 
 
 Jiu Vin (a Loudon Apprentice) Mr. Joseph IrVing 
 
 Frank Tunstal (an Apprenticed Mr. O'Neill 
 
 Maxwell (Chamberlain to the King) Mr. Lickfold 
 
 Mansfield (Lieutenant of the Tower) Mr. Eignold 
 
 The Lady Hermione (a Mystery) Miss Edith Stuart 
 
 Margaret Eamsay Miss Heath 
 
 Dame Ursula Suddlechops (Gossip and Go-betweeu) ... Mrs. Frank Matthews 
 
 Martha Trapbois (the Miser's Daughter) Miss Fanny Addison 
 
 ALSATIANS. 
 
 Hildebrod (Duke of Alsatia) Mb. Barrett 
 
 Captain Colepepper (a Bullv) Mr. AY. McIntyre 
 
 Tarpbois (a Miser) ... .." Mr. Phelps
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 Ox the eve of the Tercentenary of Shakespeare's biith ]\Ir. 
 Phelps took the chair at the meeting of the Shakespeare 
 Club at Birmingham, whose members presented him with a 
 copy of the Devonshire Hamlet, with the following title-page 
 and inscription: — 
 
 HAMLET 
 
 BY WILLIAM SHAKE-SrEAEE, 
 1603 ; 
 
 HAMLET 
 
 BY WILLIAM SHAKES BE ARE 
 1604: 
 
 Being exact Reprints ol; the First and Second Editions of Shakespeare's 
 great Drama, from the very rare Originals in the possession of his Grace 
 the Duke of Devonshire ; witli the two texts printed on opposite pages, 
 and so arranged that tlie parallel passages face each other. And a 
 Bibliographical Preface by Samuel Tinnnins. 
 
 " Look lieere upon this Picture, and on tins." 
 
 LOXDOX : SAMPSON LOW, SON, k. CO., 47, LUDGATE HILL. 
 
 1860. 
 
 TO 
 
 SAMUEL PHELPS, Esq., 
 
 WITH THE IIKARTY THANKS OF THE JIEMBEKS OF 
 
 "OUH SHAKESPEARE CLUB " 
 
 Fon A GRACIOUS SERVICE RENDERED TO THEM OX THE EVE OF 
 
 AN EVER-TO-DE-REMEMCERED DAY. 
 
 PArmivghnm, GEORGE DAWSON, PRESIDENT. 
 
 April '2.2nd, 18G4,
 
 426 LIFE OF PHELPS. 
 
 The following may have been related othenvise, but I have set 
 down the incidents just as they were told me by ]\Ir. Phelps. 
 
 Turning round on his stool one day in the office of the newspaper 
 ■where botli were engaged, Douglas Jerrold said to Phelps rather 
 abruptly, " Wliat have your godfathers and your godmothers done 
 for you ^ " " What do you mean 1 " " Well, what have you been 
 taught 1 What do you knowT' This led to a comparing of notes, 
 and it turned out that neither in French nor in Latin was either of 
 them at that moment prepared to undergo an examination. Like 
 wise men, they set about at once redeeming the time. An old Dutch 
 gentleman became their tutor, and they very soon made good their 
 deficiencies in the languages named. 
 
 At this time Samuel Phelps and Douglas Jerrold were both members 
 of an amateur acting company, and when the former was to appear at 
 the Olympic Theatre, as " a gentleman amateur," he was very anxious 
 that Jerrold should go and see him play. ]S"ext day at the office 
 Phelps was a little surprised that his companion made no allusion 
 to the performance of the previous evening ; and, when his surprise 
 w^axed into irritating wonder, and he could bear it no longer, he burst 
 out with, " Well, what did you think of my acting 1 I saw you were 
 there." Jerrold turned very leisurely towards Phelps and delivered 
 himself thus : " It is my very decided opinion that, if you persevere, 
 you maij eventually make a good Walking Gentleman, and get your 
 live-and-twenty shillings a week ; but you must stick to it, remember.'' 
 
 On the 8th of April, 1842, Jerrold's play of The Prisoner of War 
 was produced at Drury Lane Theatre, and after the performance was 
 over Jerrold went behind to congratulate Mr. Phelps on his success 
 as Captain Channel, and in course of conversation gave him a dig in 
 the side, saying, " I suppose, old fellow, you have not forgotten my 
 prophecy of the five-and-twenty shillings, eh ! — you're getting almost 
 as many pounds, I expect." Mr. Phelps answered him with a long- 
 drawn " No — not quite that." As a matter of fact, he was getting 
 twenty.— J. P. E. 
 
 I have said on p. 216, that after playing Brutus for his benefit at 
 Sadler's Wells on the 6th JNTovember, 1862, that he never entered that 
 theatre again. It would appear, however, from what I have been told 
 by a friend on whose memory I place some reliance, that my own 
 has been at fault touching that as a fact, for he is said to have acted 
 there one night for the benefit of the sufferers by the Clerkenwell 
 explosion somewhere about the end of 1867, and again for a few 
 nights with Miss Marriott in the autumn of 1869 or thereabouts. 
 Even now I cannot bring it to my remembrance, and it appears to 
 me to be the only thing touching his career at that theatre that my 
 memory has failed me in. 
 
 He once acted at the Victoria Theatre in the spring of 1839 for 
 the benefit of Bender, the box book-keeper at Covent Garden. The 
 play was Julius Caesar. He acted Cassius ; Warde, Brutus ; and Elton,
 
 APPENDIX. 42; 
 
 j\[arc Antony. The Sunheam, referred to on p. 49, gave a very long 
 and exhaustive criticism on this performance, liiglily eulogizing it. 
 
 The supper referred to in one of Mr. Charles Dickens's letters, p. 390, 
 after the first performance of John Savile of Haysted, and also referred 
 to by the Rev. James "White in one of his, ji. 386, did not take place 
 on either of the dates they spoke of, but on the 4th November, the 
 second night of the play's production, as narrated on p. 103. 
 
 The benefit referred to in Mr. Phelps's letter to Mr. Macready of 
 21st July, 1853, and Mr. Macready's to Mr. Phelps of l>-2nd July, 
 1853, for the help of poor ]\Irs. Warner in her last hours did not 
 take place at Drury Lane, but at Sadler's Wells. The play-bill is 
 given on p. 419. 
 
 The \Yhite Eose, by the Eev. James "White, and referred to in 
 his letter of 24th November, 1847, was never acted, but Mr. Phelps 
 produced on 6th IMarch, 1852, White's tragedy of James VI., or the 
 Gowrie Plot, as described at p. 124.— W. M. P.
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Actors : 
 
 Addison, 39 
 
 Aldridge, 65 
 
 Anderson, 21, 24 
 
 Barrett, 8 
 
 Bartlev. 59 
 
 Belford, 8 
 
 Bennett. George, 8, 19, 21 
 
 Brooke, G. V., 22, 23 
 
 Butlers, the, of Sliefiield, 36 
 
 Cecil, Arthur, 11 
 
 Chapman, 8 
 
 Coleman, John, 307 
 . Cooke, George Frederick, 24 
 
 Cooper, 49 
 
 Creswick, 9, 22, 24 
 
 Devrient, Ludwig, 10 
 
 Dickinson, G. K., 8 
 
 Dillon, Charles, 23, 24 
 
 Dolman, 8 
 
 Dowton, 3 
 
 Elliston, 3 
 
 Elton, 20, 50, 52 
 
 Farren, the elder, 3, 59 
 
 Fechter, 25 
 
 Fenton, Charles, 8 
 
 Forbes-Robertson, Johnston, 15, 
 307 
 
 Forbes-(Robertson), Norman, 15, 
 308 
 
 Forman, 65 
 
 Garrick, 3, 5 
 
 Gilbert, 40 
 
 Graham, 8, 65 
 
 Greenwood, acting manager. 9, 18 
 
 Harris, T. C, 8 
 
 Hay well, 8 
 
 Henderson, 3, 5 
 
 Hoskins, 8 
 
 Actors {continued) : 
 
 Hudson, 8 
 
 Iffland, 10 
 
 Kean, Charles, viii, 16, 20, 52 
 
 Kean, Edmund, 2, 18 
 
 Kemble, Charles, 3, 14 
 
 Kemble, John, 2 
 
 Knight, 8 
 
 Lacy, H., 8, 65 
 
 Lacy, Walter, 19 
 
 Lickfold, 8 
 
 Liston, 3 
 
 Lunt, 8 
 
 Macready, Wm. Charles, viii, 2, 
 3, 4, 5, 14, 15, 19, 29, 40, 41, 
 42, 48, 49, 52, 53. Plays pro- 
 duced by him at Covent Garden 
 and Drury Lane, 255, 256 
 
 Marston, Henry, 8, 19, 21, 65 
 
 Matthews, Charles, 3 
 
 Meagreson, 8 
 
 Mellon, H., 8 
 
 Morelli, 65 * 
 
 Morton, 8 
 
 Nye, H., 8 
 
 Phelps, Edmund, 8, 49 
 
 Ray, 8 
 
 Rayner, Alfred, 8 
 
 Righton, 8 
 
 Robinson, Frederick, 8, 11 
 
 Robson, 24 
 
 Rodwell, 41 
 
 Rousby, Wybert, 8 
 
 Ryder, John, 19 
 
 Ryder, of Aberdeen, 36 
 
 Scharf, 8 
 
 Selby, Charles, 46 
 
 Seyton, C, 8 
 
 SuUivan, Barry, 23, 24
 
 INDEX. 
 
 429 
 
 Actors {continued) : 
 
 Vaudenliotf, 9, 19, 50, 59 
 
 Yezin, Henuarm, 8, 24 
 
 Wallack, James, 9, 15, 50, 52 
 
 Warde, 20, 59 
 
 Webster, iBeujiinin, of the Hay- 
 market, 39, 40, 41, 42 
 
 Webster, John. 8 
 
 Wheatleio-h, 8 ' 
 
 White, Clement, 65 
 
 Wilkiiis, John, 8 
 
 Williams, 8 
 
 Wilson, 65 
 
 Woolgar, 39 
 
 Young-e, Anthony, 8 
 Actresses : 
 
 Addison, Laura, 9, 26 
 
 Archbold, Mrs., 9 
 
 Atkinson, Miss, 9 
 
 Ballin, Miss, 40 
 
 Cooper, Miss, 9, 27 
 
 Faucit, Heleu, now Lady ilartin, 
 26, 41, 49, 50, 51 
 
 Fitzpatrick, Miss, 9, 27 
 
 Glover, Mrs., 50 
 
 Glyn, ]\Iiss, 9, 26 
 
 Goddard, ^liss, 9 
 
 Harding, Emma, 65 
 
 Hudspetli, Miss, afterwards Mrs. 
 Edmund Phelps, 9 
 
 Le Batt, Miss, 9, 65 
 
 Marston, Mrs. Henry, 9 
 
 Maywood, Miss. 52 
 
 Mordaunt, the a\Iisses, sisters of 
 Mrs. Nisbett, 39 
 
 Nisbett, Mrs., 39, 41 
 
 Pollock, Mrs., formerly Mrs. 
 liyder, 88 
 
 Piachel, 27 
 
 Rafter, Miss, 9 
 
 Ristori, 27 
 
 Ryder, Mrs., of Aberdeen, after- 
 wards Mrs. Pollock, 88 
 
 St. George, Julia, 9 
 
 Stirling, Mrs., 26 
 
 Tagiionis, tlie, 40 
 
 Ternaii, Mrs., fcjrnicrly Miss Jar- 
 man, 9 
 
 Travers, Miss, 9 
 
 Tree, Ellen, afterwards Mrs. 
 Charles Kean, 26, 50 
 
 Warner, Mrs., formerly ]\liss II ud- 
 dart, 9, 25, 50, 65 
 
 Young, Mrs. (.'liarles, afterwards 
 Mrs. Vezin, 9, 27 
 
 Anson, the Hon. George, 51 
 
 Berlin, 10 
 
 Blackwood, Sir Henry, Bart., 38 
 
 Boker, G. H., 28 
 
 Browning, Robert, 55 
 
 Bunii, Mr., of Drury Lane, 39, 40 
 
 Burns, Robert, centenary of, 16 
 
 Burroughs, Watkin, 36 
 
 Campbell, Lord Chancellor, 14 
 Carruthers Robert, of Inverness, 
 
 37 
 Carter, :\[r., 51 
 Chatterton, F. B., 22 
 Chelsea, 1 
 
 Chitty, the Hon. Mr. Justice, vii 
 Church, the, ix, x 
 Clay, John Randolph, 40 
 Consul-General, the Spanish, 15 
 Cooper, Sarah, 35 
 Cotton, Lord j\Iayor, 14 
 Criticisms : 
 
 Athenceum (John A. Horaud) on _-»- 
 IMacbeth and opening of Sadler's 
 Wells, 65-67 
 Lloyd's Weelily Newspaper (.Jonas -^ 
 
 Levy) on City Madam, 70 
 Times (Jolin Oxenford) on City 
 
 Madam, 70 
 Weekly Disputcli on Hamlet and 
 
 King Jolm, 71 
 Critic on King John, 72 
 John Bull on several produc- •/ 
 
 tions, 73 
 News- of the World on Richard III., 
 
 74 et seq. . 
 
 Morning tiun on Bridal, 76, 77 "^ 
 
 Times (John Oxenford) on Riche- 
 lieu, The Fatal Dowry, and V 
 The Winter's Tale, 80, 81 
 Patrician on The Fatal l^owry, 
 
 81 
 Athenceum (John A. Heraud) on 
 
 King Lear, 81, J-2 
 Court Journal on King Lear, 82, 
 
 83 
 BtlVa WeeJcly Messenger on King 
 
 Lear, 83, 84 
 Observer <in King Lear, 81-86 
 Athenaeum (John A. lleritud) on 
 
 Tiie Winter's Tale, 86 
 Ohserver on Tlie Winter's Tale, 
 86, 87
 
 430 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Criticisms {continued) : 
 
 Doiujlas Jerrokl's Weeldy Neivs- 
 jxiper (F. G. Tomlins) on A 
 King and No King, 90-92 
 
 Douglas JerrohVs Weekly Neivs- 
 paper (F. G. Tomlins) on Henry 
 IV., Part I., 93-96 
 
 Douglas JerroltVs Weekly News- 
 paper (F. G. Tomlins) on Mac- 
 beth, 97-99 
 - — -Lloyd's Weekly London Newspaper 
 (Jonas Levy) on Macbetli, 99- 
 102 
 
 Cumberland's Acting Plays ("D. 
 G.," George Daniel) on Cala\'nos, 
 107 
 
 Douglas JerrohVs Weekly Neivs- 
 pmper (F. G. Tomlins) on 
 Anthony and Cleopatra, 110 
 
 Morning Chronicle on Garcia, 
 111-113 
 
 Cumberland's Acting Plays, 
 (George Daniel) on Retribution, 
 115 
 
 Morning Advertiser (F. G. Tom- 
 lins) on The Man of the World, 
 122, 123 
 
 Morning Advertiser (F. G. Tom- 
 lins) on Henry V., 124-126 
 
 Morning Advertiser (F. G. Tom- 
 lins) on Henry IV., Part II., 
 127, 128 
 
 Punch (Douglas Jerrold) on Bot- 
 tom the Weaver, 129-131 
 
 Lloyd's Weekly London Ne2vs 
 (Douglas Jerrold) on A Mid- 
 summer Night's Dream, 131-133 
 
 Athenceum (John A. Heraud) on 
 A Midsummer Night's Dream, 
 134 
 
 Examiner (Professor Morley) on 
 A Midsummer Night's Dream, 
 135-138 
 
 Examiner (Professor Morley) on 
 Pericles, 139-142 
 
 Lloyd's Weekly London News 
 (Douglas Jerrold) on Pericles, 
 143, 144 
 
 Times (JohnOxenford) on Pericles, 
 144-147 
 
 Weekly Dispatch (Bayle Bernard) 
 on Macbeth, 149 
 
 Morning Advertiser (F. G. Tom- 
 \J lins) on Tinion cf Athens, 150- 
 152 
 
 Criticisms {continued) : 
 
 Examiner (Professor Morley) on 
 \/Timon of Athens, 152-154 
 
 Examiner (Professor Morley), on 
 Taming of the Shrew, 154, 155 
 
 Morning Advertiser (F. G. Tom- 
 lins) on Taming of the Shrew, 
 155-157 
 
 Examiner (Professor Morley) on 
 Twelfth Night, 158, 159 
 
 Weekly Dispatch (Bayle Bernard) 
 on Twelfth Night, 160-163 
 
 Examiner (Professor Morley) on 
 Love's Labour's Lost, 163, 164 
 
 Times (John Oxenford) on Love's 
 Labour's Lost, 165, 166 
 
 Morning Advertiser (F. G. Tom- 
 lins) on The Clandestine 
 Marriage, 167, 168 
 
 Examiner (Professor Morley) on 
 The Provoked Husband, 170 
 
 Morning Advertiser (F. G. Tom- 
 lins) on The Hypocrite, 171, 172 
 
 Weekly Dispatch (Bayle Bernard) 
 on The Hypocrite, 172-175 
 
 Examiner (Professor Morley) on 
 The Hypocrite, 176 
 
 Examiner (Professor Morley) on' 
 The Fool's Revenge, 177, 178 
 
 Weekly Dispatch (Ba3de Bernard) 
 on The Fool's Revenge, 178 
 
 Examiner (Professor Morley) on 
 Othello, 180, 181 
 
 Exmniner (Professor Morley) on 
 Hamlet, 182 
 
 Examiner (Professor Morley) on 
 Coriolanus, 183-186 
 
 Weekly Dispatch (Bayle Bernard) 
 on Werner, 186-188 
 
 Examiner (Professor Morlev) on 
 King Lear, 189-191 
 
 Morning Advertiser (F. G. Tom- 
 lins) on Louis XL, 191-194 
 
 Weekly Dispatch (Bayle Bernard) 
 on Louis XL, 195-197 
 
 Morning Advertiser (F. G. Tom- 
 lins) on Othello, 198 
 
 Daihi Telcgrapth on Othello, 199, 
 200 
 
 Morning Herald on Othello, 201, 
 202 
 
 Porcupine (Liverpool paper) on 
 his mode of acting, 208-210 
 
 Morning Herald on close of his 
 management, and on Brutus, 211
 
 INDEX. 
 
 4P,\ 
 
 Criticisms {continued) : 
 
 Mornin(/ Advertiser- (F. G. Toin- 
 lins) on close of his manage- 
 ment, and on Brutus, 212-14 
 
 Times (John Oxenford) on close 
 of his management, 215, 2iri 
 
 Dublin Commercial Journal (Her- 
 bert Steele) on Hamlet, 216- 
 217 
 
 Dublin Commercial Journal (Her- 
 bert Steele) on Eichelieu, Sir 
 Giles Overreach, and Werner, 
 217-219 
 
 Times (John Oxenford) on Patri- 
 cian's Daugiiter, The Tempest, 
 
 ^ Timon of Athens, and Henry 
 IV., Part II., 220-227 
 
 Weekly Dispatcli (Dayle Bernard) 
 on Richelieu and Hamlet, 
 227-232 
 
 Morning Post on Henry V., Vir- 
 giiiius, and The School for 
 Scandal, 232-235 
 
 Athenceum (John A. Herand) on 
 Romeo and Juliet. 235-237 
 
 Sunday Times (Stirling Covne) on 
 Henry IV., Part II., 239 
 
 Daily News on Henry V., 238 
 
 Islington Gazette on ]\Iacheth at 
 Her Majesty's Theatre, 210-242 
 
 Die Freiscliutz (Hamburg paper) 
 on King Lear, 243 
 
 Times (John Oxenford) on open- 
 ing of Drury Lane, 290 
 
 Examiner (Professor Morlej') on 
 opening of Drury Lane, 291, 
 292 
 
 Examiner (Professor !Morley) on 
 Falstaff, 293 
 
 Examiner (Professor iMorley) on 
 Henry IV., Part II., 294 
 
 Morninq Advertiser (F. G. Toni- 
 lins) on Othello, 295 
 
 Examiner (Professor Morley) on 
 Wolsey and Richelieu, 298, 
 299 
 
 Morning Advertiser (F. G. Tom- 
 lins) on Richelieu, 299 
 
 North Briton (Ivlinburgh paper) 
 on Handet, 313 
 
 Observer on Faust, at Drury Lane, 
 315-317 
 
 The World (Dutton Cook) (.n 
 PhflpH generally as uu actor, 
 318-321 
 
 Criticisms (continued) : 
 
 S2'hinx and Free Lance (Man- 
 chester papers) on Othello, 322- 
 32G 
 Sundry Manchester papers, 326- 
 
 383 
 Liverpool Daily Post on Sir Peter 
 Teazle, 333 
 Crystal Palace, 16 
 
 Dickens, Charles, 17, 28, 96 
 Dramatic Critics : 
 
 Bernard, Bayle, viii, 149, 160, 172, 
 
 178, 186, 195, 227 
 Blanchard, E. L., viii, 2, 28, 350 
 Cook, Dutton, 318 
 Coyne, Stirling, viii, 239 
 Daniel, George, 107, 115 
 Hcraud, John A., viii, 19, 49, 58, 
 
 65, 81, 86, 134,235 
 Jerrold, Douglas, viii, 34, 57, 129, 
 
 131, 143 
 Levy, Jonas, 70, 99 
 Morley, Professor, viii, 1.35, 139, 
 
 152, 154, 1.58, 163, 170, 176, 
 
 177, 180, 182, 183, 189, 291, 
 
 293, 298 
 Oxenford, John, viii, 70, 80, 144, 
 
 165, 215, 220, 290 
 Rede, Leman, 47, 57 
 Tomli.is, F. G., viii, 90, 93, 97, 
 
 110, 122, 124, 127, 150, 1.55, 
 
 167, 171, 191, 198—202, 295, 
 
 299 
 Dresden, 11 
 
 Farningham, Kent, 2, 18 
 Forster, John, 28 
 
 Forster, John, the Executors of, viii 
 France, 11 
 
 Genoa, 11 
 
 Gibbs, Dr., of Exeter, 40 
 
 Gill, William, of the Plymouth 
 
 Journal, 37 
 Girtin, Dr., son of Thomas Girlin, 9 
 
 Hammond, Mr., manager of Drury 
 
 Lane, 5(3 
 Harris, .Mr., of the Princess's, 25 
 Ilav, Mr., of Exeter and Plymouth, 
 
 :57 
 
 llax.litt, 18 
 
 Hiigarth, Miss, Executrix of Charles 
 Dickens, vii
 
 432 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Hollingshead, John, 353 
 Hunt, Leigh, 16 
 
 Italy, 11 
 
 Knowles, Sheridan, 57 
 
 Leipzig, 11 
 Letters : 
 
 Correspondence with Benjamin 
 
 Webster, 355, 356 
 From W. C. Macready, 356, 357 
 Correspondence with W. C. Mac- 
 ready, 358-371 
 Correspondence with John Forster, 
 
 371-380 
 From Eev. James White, 381-388 
 „ Charles Dickens, 389-394 
 „ Leigh Hunt, 394, 395 
 „ Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, 
 
 396 397 
 „ G. H.' Boker, 397-399 
 „ Sundry persons, 399-403 
 Lion Hotel, Farningham, 2, 18 
 Lytton, Sir Edward Bulwer, 7, 28 
 Lytton, the Kt. Hon. the Earl of, 
 
 Macready, Jonathan, F.R.C.S., vii 
 Macready, Mrs., vii 
 Macready, William Charles, Repre- 
 sentatives of, vii 
 Magazine, Tallis's, 19 
 Marston, Dr. Westland, 26 
 Made, Mr., of Plymouth, 38 
 
 Palk, Colonel, 38 
 
 Palk, Sir Lawrence, 38 
 
 Payne, Howard, 38 
 
 Phelps, W. May, vii, 10, 17, 19, 33, 
 
 34, 40, 43, 51, 53, 61 
 Phelps, Samuel : 
 
 His various characters, 3, 4 
 
 His children, 5 
 
 William Robert, Chief -Justice of 
 
 St. Helena, 6 
 Edmund, actor, 6 
 Eleanor Cooper, eldest daughter, 6 
 Sarah, second daughter, wife of 
 youngest_ son of Alderman 
 Goodair of Preston, 6 
 Youngest son and daughter still 
 
 alive, 6 
 His career divided into periods, 6 
 
 Phelps, Samuel (continued): 
 
 Negotiates with Sir Edward Bul- 
 wer Lytton, 7 
 
 Engages Signor Mercadante, 8 
 
 Names of his company, 8 
 
 His aim as manager, 9 
 
 His habits, 10 
 
 Takes his company to Berlin, &c., 
 10 
 
 German criticisms upon him, 10, 
 11 
 
 Patronized by Prussian Royalty, 11 
 
 Declines going to America, 11 
 
 Goes on a tour through France, 
 Switzerland, and Italy, 11 
 
 Dines with Lord Chancellor Camp- 
 bell, 14 
 
 Dines at the Mansion House, 14 
 
 Plays at Windsor, 16 
 
 His mannerisms, 17 
 
 His skill in miniature-painting, 17 
 
 Disappointed at not being able to 
 secure Drury Lane, 28 
 
 His acting characterized, 29, 30, 
 31 
 
 His birth and parentage, 32 
 
 His youth and education, 33 
 
 Goes to London, and becomes a- 
 reader on the press, having 
 Douglas Jerrold and W. E. 
 Love for fellow-workers, 34 
 
 Gets engaged to Miss Sarah 
 Cooper and takes to the stage, 
 35 
 
 His various provincial engage- 
 ments, 36, 37 
 
 Comes to London, and is engaged 
 by Mr. Webster, 41 
 
 Renews provincial engagements, 
 42 
 
 Macready goes to Southampton to 
 see him act, 42 
 
 Engaged by Mr. Macready, 43 
 
 Letter to his wife, 43 
 
 Misunderstandings Avith Mr. Mac- 
 ready, 47 
 
 Goes to the Haymarket, 49 
 
 Appears at Drury Lane, 50 
 
 Embarks with Mrs. Warner in the 
 management of Sadler's Wells, 
 64, 65 
 
 Takes Sadler's Wells Theatre 
 jointly with Mr. Greenwood 
 and Mr. Warner, 64 
 
 Their address to the public, 64, 65
 
 INDEX. 
 
 4:r? 
 
 Phelps, Samuel (continued) : 
 
 First Nio-ht of— 
 ■^ ■■ ' Macbeth, 65 
 Othello, 67 
 The Stranger, 68 
 V The Jealous Wife, 68 
 Werner, 68 
 Shylock, 68 
 
 The School for Scandal, 68 
 Virc,-'nius, 68 
 Hamlet. 68 
 , The Wife, 68 
 ^ The Bridal, 68 
 
 A New Way to Pay Old Debts, 
 
 68 
 King John, 68 
 The City Madam, 69 
 The Lady of Lvons, 69 
 The Wonder, 69 
 The Priest's Daughter, 69 
 Richard III., 69 
 Wild Oats, 69 
 Nicholas Flam, 69 
 The Soldier's Daughter, 69 
 The Iron Chest, 69 
 Henry VIII . 69 
 Close of First Sea'^on, 69 
 Opening of Second Season, 77 
 
 First Night of — 
 Every one has Ids Fault, 77 
 W^illiam Tell, 77 
 The King's Friend, 77 
 The Florentines, 78 
 Richelieu, 78 
 Love, 78 
 
 The" Gamester, 78 
 Venice Preserved, 78 
 The Fatal Dowry, 78 
 Isabella, 78 
 Pizarro, 79 
 Lear, 79 
 ^ Evadne, 79 
 
 The Winter's Tale, 79 
 Douglas, 79 
 Money, 79 
 Jane Shore, 79 
 Julius Caesar, 79 
 Cluse of Second Season, 79 
 Opening of Third Season, under 
 his sole management, 87 
 
 First Night (d— 
 Henry IV,, I'art L, 87 
 The nuncid)acl<, 88 
 ^ Love's S icrilice, 88 
 
 Tin; Patriciau's Daughter, 88 
 
 Phelps, S.\muel {continued) : 
 First Nig'.it of — 
 
 Romeo and Juliet, 89 
 
 Measure for Measure, 89 
 
 Damon and Pythias, 90 
 
 Ion, 90 
 
 A King and No King, 90 
 
 The Road to Ruin, 92 
 
 Feudal Times, 92 
 
 The Tempest, 92 
 
 Town and Country, 93 
 
 Bertram, 93 
 
 Provost of Bruges, 93 
 Close of Third Season, 93 
 Opening of Fourth S.'ason, 96 
 First Night of— 
 
 Cymbeline, 96 
 =-^Macbeth (without Singing 
 Witches), 96 
 
 Heir at Law, 103 
 
 John Savile of Haysted, 103 
 
 The Poor Gentleman, 1U3 
 
 As You T;ike It, 103 
 
 Fazio, 103 
 
 The Steward, 104 
 
 Twelfth Night, 104 
 
 Merry Wives of Windsor. 104 
 
 Tlie Way to Keep Him, 104 
 Close of Fourtli Season, 104 
 Opening of Fifth Season, 105 
 First Night of— 
 
 Coriolanus, 105 
 
 Ride a Wife and Have a Wife, 
 105 
 
 Much Ado About Nothing. 106 
 
 A Blot in the 'Scutcheon. 106 
 
 The Honest Plan's Fortune, 107 
 
 All in the Wrong, 107 
 
 Calaynos, 107 
 Close of Fifth Season, 108 
 Opening of Sixth Season, 108 
 First Night of — 
 
 The Belle's Stratagem, 109 
 
 Tne Love Chase, i09 ' 
 
 Antony and Cleojiatra, 109 
 
 The Busy Body, 111 
 
 Siie Stoops to Coiupier, 1 1 1 
 
 Garcia, 111 
 
 The Honcymodii, 1 14 
 
 Retribution, 1 14 
 Close of Sixth Season, 1!9 
 Ojiening of" Si;venth Season, 119 
 First Night of — 
 
 The Legend of Florence, 119 
 
 The Duchess of .Malfi, 119 
 !■' 1'
 
 434 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Phelps, Samuel {continued) : 
 Close of Seventh Season, 121 
 Opening of Eighth Season, 121 
 First Night of — 
 Tinion of Athens, 121 
 Secrets Worth Knowing, 121 
 Ingoniar, 122 
 
 The Man of the World, 122 
 James VI., or the Gowrie Tlot, 
 124 
 Close of Eighth Season, 124 
 Opening of Ninth Season, 124 
 First Night of — 
 All's Well that Ends Well, 
 
 124 
 The Merchant's Wedding, 124 
 Arden of Feversham, 124 
 A Woman Never Vexed, 124' 
 Henry V., 124 
 
 Tlie Widow of Cornhill, 126 
 Might and Kight, 126 
 Tlie Cavalier, 127 
 Henrv IV., Part II., 127 
 Close of Ninth Season, 128 
 Ojiening of Tenth Season, 128 
 First Night of— 
 Love Makes a Man, 128 
 A Midsummer Night's Dream, 
 
 128 
 London Assurance, 138 
 The Miser, 138 
 Close of Tenth Season, 138 
 Opening of Eleventh Season, 
 139 
 
 First Night of— 
 Pericles, 139 
 Roh Roy, 148 
 Close of Eleventli Season, 148 
 (Jpeiiing of Twelfth Season, 148 
 His first appearance in TheHuncli- 
 back at S idler's Wells, 148 
 
 First Night of — • 
 Hamilton of Bothwellhaugh, 148 
 Tlie Comedy of Errors, 148 
 Close of Twelfth Season, 149 
 Opening of Thirteenth Season, 
 
 149 
 Reproduction of Timon of Athens, 
 150 
 
 First Night of— 
 Taming of the Shrew, 154 
 Reproduction of Twelfth Night, 
 158 
 
 First Night of— 
 Two Gentlemen of Verona, 163 
 
 Phelps, Samuel (continued) : 
 Close of Thirteenth Season, 163 
 Opening of Fourteenth Season, 
 
 163 
 First Night of — 
 
 Love's Labour's Lost, 163 
 
 The Clandestine Marriage, 166 
 Proluction of Macbetii at Her 
 
 Majesty's Theatre, 169 
 Strange scene and great enthusiasm 
 
 in gallery of Sadler's Wells 
 
 after the above Macbeth night, 
 
 169 
 
 First Night of— 
 
 A Cure for the Heartache, 
 169 
 Close of Fourteenth Season, 169 
 Opening of Fifteenth Season, 
 
 170 
 
 First Night of— 
 
 The Provoked Husband, 170 
 
 Tlie Hypocrite, 171 
 
 The Wheel of Fortune, 176 
 Close of Fifteenth Season, 177 
 Opening of Sixteenth Season, 
 
 177 
 
 First Night of— 
 
 John Bull, 177 
 
 Tlie Fool's Revenge, 177 
 Produces Romeo and Juliet at 
 
 Windsor Castle, 177 
 Close of Sixteenth Season, 177 
 Appears at the Princess's Theatre 
 
 for the summer months, 179 
 Opening of Seventeenth Season, 
 
 183 
 Produces Werner, to introduce his 
 
 soiK Edmund as Qlric, 186 
 Produces Richelieu at Windsor 
 
 Castle, 189 
 Close of Seventeenth Season, 189 
 Appears again during summer of 
 
 1861 at the Princess's, 189 
 Opening of Eighteenth and last 
 
 Season, 191 
 
 First Night of— 
 
 Louis XL, 191 
 
 Doing for the Best, 202 
 
 CoUey Cibber's Richard III., 
 202 
 Williams, his assistant stage 
 
 manager, 203 
 His scenic artists, 204 
 Comparison between his produc- 
 tions aud Charles Kean's, 204
 
 INDEX. 
 
 4:^5 
 
 Phelps, Samuel {rontiirued): 
 
 His attitude towards the Press, 
 
 205 
 Cause of giving up management, 
 
 205--207 _ 
 Farewell 'address at Sadler's 
 
 Wells, 213, 214 
 Lets Sadter's Wells to Captain ' 
 
 Horton Rhys, 2 1 6 
 Speeches at General Theatrical 
 
 Fund Dinner, 24ti-8 
 Lists of Plavs produced bv him at 
 
 Sadler's Wells, 253, 254," 257,258 
 Lines on his acting, 287, 288 
 Engagement with Fechter at the 
 
 L}-ceum, 290 
 Engages with Falconer and 
 
 Chatterton to get up i\Ianfred 
 
 at Drury Lane, 290 
 Acts Macbeth at Drury Lane. 298 
 „ King John at Drury Lane, 
 
 300 
 „ Mephistopheles at Dnny 
 Lane, 301-303 
 
 ., Marino Faliero, at Drurv 
 Lane, 303 
 
 „ James VL and Trapbois the 
 Miser, 303-305 
 Disagrees with Chatterton, and 
 
 leaves Drury Lane, 304 
 Goes to Astley's with E. T. Smith, 
 
 304 
 Goes to the Queen's, and plays 
 
 Bottom the Weavt-r and Pros- 
 
 pero, 305 
 Again on friendly terms wilh 
 
 Ciiatterton, and goes to Old 
 
 Drury to ]»lay Isaac of York, 
 
 305 
 Goes to the Princess's with Chat- 
 terton, and pliij's Ilamlet there 
 
 for tlie last time, 30G 
 Plays a new \)tirt there. Dexter 
 
 Sanderson in Watts Phillips' 
 
 On the Jury, 30(5 
 Catches a cold after playing The 
 
 Man of the \\'orld, and laid u[) 
 
 for some montlis, IjOIj 
 PUys at the Prince's Theatre, 
 
 Manchester, for several succes- 
 sive years with Charles Calvert, 
 
 307 
 Farewell performances at Man- 
 chester, Dublin, and Livcr}it)()l, 
 
 307 
 
 Phelps, Samukl (continued) : 
 
 Last two engagements at the 
 
 Aciuarium with ^liss Litton, 
 
 307, 308 
 Went to Coopersale for change of 
 
 air, .309 
 Got wet at Finsbury Park, and 
 
 caught fresh cold, 309 
 Engaged with Chatterton to play 
 
 a farewell engagement at Old 
 
 Drury, .309 
 Went again to Coopersale, 310 
 Death at Coopersale, 310 
 Particulars ot Funeral, 311 
 Speech at the Mansion House, 
 
 334, 335 
 Address from the Brasenose Club, 
 
 .336-338 
 Lines on him from Punch, 338- 
 
 340 
 Lines on him from Funny Folks, 
 
 340 
 Obituary notices of him, 341- 
 
 353 
 In 3Iemoriara, 354 
 Play-Bills: 
 York, 62 
 Preston, 63 
 Sundry Sadler's Wells, &c., 259- 
 
 286 
 Sundry Covent Garden, Drury 
 
 Lane, Haj'market, &c., 404- 
 
 424 
 Pollock, Sir Frederick, Bart., vii 
 Princess IJoyal's marriage, 16 
 Princess Victoria's majority, 39 
 
 Queen, the, and the Prince Consort, 
 ,16 
 
 Report of General Theatrical Fund 
 Diimer, 244-253 
 
 Si-rlc, Thomas James, 65 
 Shakespeare, ix, 4 
 
 „ All his plays produced 
 by Phelps less four, 7 
 , „ Ilis 'I'erccntenarv, 16 
 
 Shalders, Mr., and William, 42 
 She])herd, Mr., of the Siirrc} Theatre, 
 
 22 
 Smith, E. T., 18 
 Stage, the, X, 14 
 Stephens, Mr. George, 52 
 Switzerland, 1 1 
 
 I' !•• 2
 
 433 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Tait, Archbishop, ix, 14 
 TalHs, Mr., the publisher, 28 
 Tlieatres : 
 
 Aberdeen, 15, 22, 36 
 
 Aquarium, London, 6 
 
 Astley's, London, 6 
 
 Belfast, 36 
 
 Birmingham, 6 
 
 Covent Garden, London, 25, 48 
 
 Devonport, 38, 39 
 
 Drury Lane, 2, 4, 6, 50, 55 
 
 Dublin, 6 
 
 Dundee, 15, 23, 36 
 
 Edinburgh, 6 
 
 Exeter, 37 
 
 Gaiety, London, 6 
 
 Glasgow, 6 
 
 Haymarket, London, 6, 41 
 
 Inverness, 36 
 
 Liverpool, 6 
 
 Manchester, 6 
 
 Newcastle, 6 
 
 Theatres (continued) : 
 
 Perth, 36 
 
 Plymouth, 37, 38 
 
 Preston, 36, 63 
 
 Princess's, London, 6 
 
 Queen's, London, 6 
 
 Sadler's Wells, 3, 4, 10, 17 
 
 Southampton, 42 
 
 St. James's, London, 7 
 
 Standard, London, 6 
 
 Stonehouse, 38 
 
 Surrey, London, 6, 22 
 
 Worthing, 37 
 
 York, 62 
 Theatrical Fund Dinner, General, 14 
 
 White, James Logan, Esq., viii 
 White, Rev. James, viii, 28 
 Wightwick, George, architect, 37, 
 
 38, 41 
 Windsor Castle performances, 16 
 Worthing, the College at, 18 
 
 THE END. 
 
 Richard Clay and Sons, London and Bungay. 
 
 V
 
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