Further memories of Sir Charles Cameron

**

The Wide Street Commissioners**

The Wide Street Commissioners, provided with large in oacy grants by Parliament, may truly be credited with having made Dublin a beautiful city. They found Dame Street a narrow thoroughfare, 20 feet wide at one part, and converted it into a wide street; and Westmoreland and D’Olier Streets were formed on the sites of mean lanes and alleys. Not long before their dissolution, they nearly doubled the width of Nassau Street, and the handsome wall and railings which bound the college side of the street replaced an ugly dead wall. I think their latest achievement was widening the upper part of Grafton Street, where it enters into St. Stephen’s Green.

In widening Dame Street, the Wide Street Commissioners made one mistake. They took down the houses on the south side of the street from College Green to the Castle, but in the rebuilding of the south side of the street (the north side was not dealt with) it was arranged that the new houses between Palace Street and Exchange Court should be on a line with the Royal Exchange. This was an unfortunate decision, for not only did it restore the street to its original narrow width for a considerable space, but it obscured the view of the east side of the Exchange.

I remember the Royal Exchange before it was acquired by the Corporation. When a child I was brought there to get a ride in the “centrifugal railway,” which extended round the vast hall of the building. It was the forerunner of the helter-skelter railway of the modern bazaars and fairs.

The Royal Exchange was built for a company of merchants and opened in 1779. The site was paid for by the Government, and the £40,000 spent on its erection was raised by subscriptions and lotteries. When the English and Irish currencies were amalgamated in 1826, and the foreign trade had declined, it was no longer required as a money exchange. For some time it was used as a Corn Exchange, and for several years the Mechanics’ Institute had the use of some of its rooms. In 1851 the trustees assigned it to the Corporation, with the proviso that, if so required, it could again be used as an exchange.

After the Corporation had obtained the splendid gift of this beautiful building, portions of the great hall were converted into offices, which marred to some extent its fine appearance.

The Corporation have been for several years past meditating on the erection of new Municipal Offices. It is to be hoped that when they are erected they will afford accommodation for the Town Clerk and City Engineer and their staffs. and for the Waterworks Committee’s staff, now occupying the offices carved out of the great hall. It would then be possible to restore the hall to its original proportions.

Dublin seems to have taken the lead in making wide street improvements. Early in the 18th century the Corporation. widened many narrow passages; but no important improvements were made until the Wide Street Commissioners were appointed in 1757 by an Act of the Irish Parliament, 29 George II., chapter 19.

This Act was amended in 1759*, *in order to make clear some doubtful points. The Commissioners numbered 24, and included the Lord Mayor and the Speaker of the House of Commons. The title of this important statute was “An Act for making wide and convenient way, street, or passage from Essex (now Grattan).. Bridge to Dublin Castle, and for other purposes.”

The Irish Government were very liberal in making grants of money for wide street improvements, and comparatively little for that purpose was contributed by the Corporation.

In 1764 an Act was passed granting £13,286 18s 4d for the purchase of ground on which an exchange was to be erected by “The Masters, Wardens, and Brethren or Corporation of Merchants, or Guild of the Holy Trinity of the City of Dublin.” Another sum of £3,700 was granted by Parliament for the purpose of purchasing grounds and houses situated on the north side of Essex Bridge, and to bear the passage between Inns Quay and Arran Quay.

On the site of the City ‘Tall, before the Royal Exchange was built, there were old houses which extended so far up Cork Hill that the entrance to the Castle was only 20 feet wide. Swan Alley and Lucas’ celebrated coffee house’ were eliminated by this improvement. The Government added to the area ceded by the Commissioners to the Merchants by granting ground 17 feet in width taken from the Castle Yard.

The Act 21 and 22 George III., chapter cxviii., 1781-2, imposed a duty of one shilling per ton on coal (except Irish coal); the money so raised to be granted to the Wide Street Commissioners.

Sixteen public Acts of Parliament have been passed for improving the thoroughfares of Dublin under direction of the Wide Street Commissioners; only one of them under the reign of Queen Victoria.

On the extinction of the Wide Street Commissioners, their property came into possession of the Corporation, and now produces an income of about £300 a year. **

Guernsey**

I have many agreeable reminiscences of this pleasant, prosperous little island, in which I lived in 1844 and 1845. Before going to Guernsey I was in had health. I had a prolonged cold, a severe cough, and occasional haemoptysis. In Guernsey I rose early, and practised for two hours with skittles in a covered building. There were two balls-one round, the other partly flattened (the cheese ball): both were heavy. One ball was rolled up to the pins, the other thrown at them.

After many months of this exercise my health and strength much improved, and my chest, which was becoming “pigeon-breasted,” greatly expanded. I became such an adept at the game that I was frequently asked to take part in it when three persons desired to play. Lots were drawn as to who would be my partner; my expertness in the game having become widely known, my services were in frequent requisition.

Half a battalion of infantry was at that time stationed in the island, and it was their officers who requisitioned my partnership; when there were three of them only to play, I made the fourth.

Late on Christmas eve, 1844, I was standing in the garden of the house in which I resided, when suddenly the ground began to move under my feet, and a terrific noise was heard. There was an extensive quarry near, of which I thought a portion had collapsed. I heard a loud noise in the house, and on entering it found many articles upset and broken, and china and delph ware scattered about. The road was soon crowded with alarmed people, and the excitement was very great. There was much damage done by this earthquake, but very little loss of life resulted from it.

Guernsey enjoys Home Rule, except as regards military affairs. I remember the ease of a soldier who was drunk and disorderly, being arrested, and placed in durance vile. The officer in command peremptorily requested the civil authority to deliver their prisoner to the military authority, and met with a refusal; whereupon a cannon was pointed at the door of the prison, and a threat made that it would be blown in if the prisoner was not forthwith delivered to the military authority. The civil one yielded to superior force.

Much popular indignation was created by the incident, and the “Guernsey Star” had a violent leading article on it. The subject was referred to in English newspapers, and a comic one (I forget whether it was “Punch” or not) suggested that the Duke of Wellington should have the island dug up and brought to London to fill flower pots.

There was no duty in this happy island on tea, wine, spirits, tobacco, etc. In the taverns tobacco was free to all who called for liquor. In Ireland at that period the cheapest tea was 5/4 per lb. and refined sugar 1/- per lb. On the other hand, the duty on whiskey was small: a gallon of it could be procured for eight shillings. As in the case of Ireland, Guernsey enjoys freedom from reptiles, whilst in the neighbouring island of Jersey there is a small one termed *crapeau. *The nickname of a Jersyman is *Johnny Crapeau. *There is a legend that St. Patrick had visited the island and driven the reptiles out of it.

I have in other pages mentioned the links connecting me with remote periods. I may mention another one of the kind. A relative of my father resided in Guernsey whilst I was in that island. He was General Sir John Cameron, Colonel of the 9th Regiment. He married a niece of Admiral Lord de Saumarez, a distinguished sailor, who with a squadron of six ships defeated a French-Spanish fleet of 14 vessels, three of which were destroyed. The Admiral was born in 1757, and his niece was my connecting link with that year.

Lady Cameron had a pronounced squint, and I was never sure whether she was looking at me or not. I thought that Sir John had not married for beauty.

Sir John said he hoped I would be like my father-a soldier. That also was my hope, but the death of my father when I was 14 years old extinguished it. At that time commissions in the Army were purchased. To equip for the position of ensign or cornet cost at least £500, including the price of the commission. **

How I Cleaned An Ashpit By Chemical Means**

I was always, even from childhood, fond of making experiments. When I began, in my own abode, to make chemical experiments, my bedroom was practically a little laboratory. There is a very powerful explosive body formed by a combination between the elements Chlorine and Nitrogen. One of the methods of preparing free nitrogen is to pass chlorine gas into a solution of ammonia.

On one occasion I prepared nitrogen in this way. I should have allowed a little of the ammonia to remain free, for when all the ammonia is. neutralized and the chlorine still passed into the solution, the nitrogen set free from the ammonia and the chlorine combine, and form a highly explosive body.

It was two or three days after this experiment that I was about to disconnect the apparatus, when I saw in the “Woulfe’s bottle,” that contained the ammonia, some oil-like material. This, then, was the dreadful chloride of nitrogen. The quantity seemed large. It is an unstable body, and I knew that contact with a greasy or dirty substance might explode it.

My bottle was not very clean, and I felt I must get it out of the house; so taking it up very cautiously I brought it out to the yard, carrying the vessel with as little agitation as possible. I placed it on the side of the ashpit, and then having procured some stones, I went to my bedroom and made a cockshot of the bottle. I was naturally very nervous, and my aim was not good, but at last a stone smashed the bottle.

The explosion that followed shook the house, and I have no doubt the neighbours thought there was an earthquake. It certainly cleared the contents of the ashpit, and distributed them over the adjacent spaces. It is believed that the famous Admiral, the Earl of Dundonald, proposed to destroy Kronstadt by chloride of nitrogen during the Crimean War. **

The Dublin Chemical Society.**

In 1852 the Dublin Chemical Society was established, and I was unanimously elected its Professor of Chemistry. It was a pretentious title to give to the teacher of an unchartered private society, but as “Professor Cameron” I was known for many years. This year is my diamond anniversary or jubilee of my office of Professor. In 1852 I was a chemist and a medical student, and was 22 years old.

The Society took part of a house in Capel Street, and fitted up a laboratory and a lecture room.

My opening lecture was delivered on the 13th December, 1852, at 8 o’clock p.m., to an audience of about 70 persons. Amongst those present were Sir James Murray, M.D., of “fluid magnesia” celebrity, and Dr. Aldridge, Professor of Chemistry in the School of Medicine of the Apothecaries’ Hall (now the Medical School of the National University, Cecilia Street), from whom I derived much of my knowledge of chemistry.

I felt complimented on seeing Surgeon Lover, a well-known Lecturer on Chemistry in the schools, and who, from his constant use of the oxy-hydrogen lamp to illuminate the magic lantern pictures, obtained the *soubriquet *of “OxyLover.” He was a step-brother of the poet and novelist, Samuel Lover. There are many men still alive who remember Lover’s lectures. There was also present a gentleman, James Haughton, who was a philanthropist, a teetotaler, and a vegetarian. He subscribed to the funds of the Society and acted as Treasurer. He was an uncle of the celebrated Professor Samuel Haughton, of Trinity College.

I had no notes for the lecture - I have never used lecture notes - but owing to inexperience I took no heed of time, and kept talking and making experiments until a card was quietly passed up to me, with the following words written on it: “Do you know that it is past ten o’clock?” I got quite a shock, and brought my lecture to a close. After the lecture, a meeting of the committee, or, as they were styled, council, was held, and a unanimous vote of confidence in me was passed. A fairly long account of the lecture appeared in the newspapers on the following morning.

For many years the late Alderman J. W. Gregg, J.P., a dear friend of mine, was Honorary Secretary of the Society.

I have very pleasant recollections of the Dublin Chemical Society. It had numerous social re-unions, and on one occasions a most successful ball. I made many good frienda through it: for example, the late Sir John Gray; through whose influence I was almost unanimously elected Public Analyst for Dublin, in October, 1862. I was the third Public Analyst appointed, and am now the senior one, in the United Kingdom.

The Dublin Chemical Society played an important part in my professional career. The accounts of my lectures which appeared in the Press made my name known to the general public. This Society existed up to 1862, when, owing to chemical teaching being carried out in the Royal College of Science, with better equipment, there was no longer a necessity for it.

During its existence its meetings and the lectures were well attended. My first appointment in a medical school was the result of the reports of those lectures in the news papers. I received a letter, in 1856, from the late Dr. Edward Hamilton, whom I had never met, offering me the Professorship of Chemistry and Natural Philosophy in the Dublin School of Medicine.

I accepted the offer, but in the following year the School was, so to speak, transferred to Dr. Steevens’ Hospital, and re-named Steevens’ Hospital Medical College. The following year I was offered, and in a similar manner, the Chemical Lectureship in the Original School of Medicine, subsequently renamed the Ledwich School of Medicine, Peter Street. But for the Dublin Chemical Society I am sure I should not have obtained those appointments.

For many years I was connected with three medical schools which were practically rival institutions. I lectured on chemistry and physics in the Ledwich School of Medicine and in Dr. Steevens’ Hospital and Medical College, and on public health in the Royal College of Surgeons. Many of my happiest hours were spent in lecturing to the students in those institutions, and I often meet with some of them, especially at congresses.

The Steevens’ Hospital College has long been extinct, and for many years past the Ledwich School and the Carmichael Medical College have been annexed to the Royal College of Surgeons and merged into the School of Surgery. Formerly there were many medical schools in Dublin; there are now only three, those of Trinity College, the National University, and the Royal College of Surgeons.

Chemistry is now taught efficiently in several institutions - Trinity College, University College, the Royal College of Science, the Royal College of Surgeons, the Technical Schools, Kevin Street, and the Alexandra College.

In several of the larger schools the science is taught, not only by lectures, but by the students engaging in practical work. **

Beleek China.**

In the ‘fifties I spent several of my Christmas holidays with the late Mr.- John Caldwell Bloomfield, D.L., and his first wife, at Castle Caldwell, on Lough Erne, County of Fermanagh. One day, when out shooting along with my host, I noticed a white patch of clay, and took a portion of it to the Castle. I heated it to redness, and on removing it from the fire and allowing it to cool, I found that it had not lost its white colour: this showed the absence of iron oxide. I then said to John Bloomfield that I believed he had a good porcelain clay on his estate.

I subsequently made an analysis of it. At that time the late Rev. Joseph Galbraith, F.T.C.D., was interested in mineralogy, and he doubted the existence of a real china clay in the County of Fermanagh, and addressed a letter to that effect to the editor of “Saunders’ NewsLetter,” a daily paper since extinct. I, of course, replied, and others joined in the discussion, which continued for many days, and was spoken of as the “china war.”

That I was right was, however, proved by a factory being started to work the clay. I have the first article made from it-a saucer, manufactured from a small quantity of the clay sent to Kerr’s Porcelain Factory, Worcester. In process of time the clay was exhausted, but feldspar replaced it.

Most of the money which founded the Belleek factory was provided by the late Mr. M’Birney, of M’Birney & Collis’ firm, Aston’s Quay. It was not a profitable enterprise, and Mr. M’Birney lost heavily by it. I am, however, glad to state that the Belleek factory is still turning out good china, and I hope is now a paying concern.

My dear, lifelong friend, Mr. Bloomfield, has passed from us. I often regretted that he had not embraced the profession of barrister, for which he was peculiarly fitted. **

Dublin Theatres In The ‘Thirties And ‘Forties**

In the ‘thirties and ‘forties, the Dublin theatres had stock companies, and many an actor spent nearly the whole of his theatrical career in only one of them. The Theatre Royal, Hawkins Street, was under the management of a Mr. Calcraft; the Queen’s Theatre was then named the Adelphi; Calvert’s Theatre was in Lower Abbey Street; and Fishamble Street Theatre was a survival of the music hall in which Handel’s oratorio of the “Messiah” was first produced.

My first visit to a theatre was paid to Calvert’s. The play was “Demetrius, or The Evil Eye,” a blood-curdling piece founded on a superstition in southern Italy and Greece, which has not yet quite ceased to frighten people. It greatly affected me, and for several nights after I had witnessed it I would start up out of my sleep thinking that an evil eye was fixed upon me.

Calvert’s Theatre was in the ‘forties converted into a mechanics’ institution and lecture hall. It is now the Abbey Theatre. Opposite Calvert’s Theatre there was Batty’s Circus, in which I often saw equestrian entertainments and exhibitions of trained lions, elephants, and other animals. Its site is now occupied by the Metropolitan Hall, in which religious services are carried on.

Melodramas of the most sensational kind were produced in Fishamble Street Theatre, which I several times visited. The prices for admission were very small. A wag once put up a notice in the passage leading to the boxes: “Gentlemen in their bare feet are not admitted to the boxes.” A small fee admitted visitors behind the curtain. A century earlier a fee of half-a-guinea was charged for admission behind the scenes in Smock Alley Theatre.

Fishamble Street Theatre lasted until late in the ‘fifties. I think the last performances in it were “Statues Vivants” and “Poses Plastique. ” **

Actors And Actresses I Have Met Or Seen.**

I have always been an ardent admirer of the drama, and have enjoyed the friendship or acquaintance of many distinguished members of the dramatic profession, amongst whom I may mention Mr. and Mrs. Charles Kean, Gustavus Brooke, Miss Bateman, Sir Henry Irving, Miss Ellen Terry, Barry I Sullivan, Sir George Alexander, Ada Cavendish, Mr. And Mrs. Martin Harvey, John L. Toole, George Grossmith, Mr. and Mrs. Benson, Olga Nethersole, Forbes Robertson, Julia Neilson, and many others.

From early youth I was a playgoer, and there were very few, if any, actors and actresses of celebrity who performed in Dublin from the year 1838 whom I have not seen. The same remark applies to the celebrities of the lyric drama. I have a vivid recollection of the most famous *danseuse *of the 19th century, Madame Taglioni. When I witnessed her wonderful terpsichorean performances, she was accompanied by Monsieur Silvain, a splendid dancer. His real name was Sullivan, and he was an Irishman.

When I was only 10 years old I saw the greatest Irish comedian of the last century, Tyrone Power. The moment he appeared on the stage, and before he said a word, he was greeted with an outburst of mingled cheers and laughter. He perished in the “President” steamship, with all on board.

I have seen dozens of pantomimes, but only one of them made a permanent impression upon me; that was one entitled “O’Donoghue of the Lakes,” produced in 1840 in the Theatre Royal, which was then under the management of Mr. Calcraft. The scenery was magnificent. The “Red Cross Knights” appeared in real armour, and The O’Donoghue rode out on the stage in full armour and mounted upon a white steed. A large number of children appeared as leprecauns, so made up as to present the appearance of adults. Their number was apparently largely increased by the clever device of the scene painter. At that time the performance commenced at 7 o’clock with a “curtain-raiser,” i.e., a one-or-two-act play. The pantomime followed, and lasted till 11 o’clock, and sometimes later. The harlequinade-in which Harlequin, Columbine, the Clown, and his venerable but active colleague, Pantaloon appeared-lasted fully an hour. This was the part of the pantomime most enjoyed by the juvenile spectators.

The harlequinade has long been given up, and the modern so-called pantomime is really not a pantomime at all. Formerly there were produced performances much the same as the modern pantomimes, but they were termed “extravaganzas.

I was 18 years old when the famous Swedish vocalist, Jenny Lind, appeared in Dublin. She was brought over at great cost by Mr. Calcraft. Her fee was, I believe, £600 a night. The prices of admission were greatly increased. I paid five shillings for a seat in the top gallery, to which sixpence on ordinary occasions procured admission.

On this one the hitherto bare seats were covered with cloth. The theatre was crowded, notwithstanding the high prices for admission. The opera was “Sonambula,” and it made a great impression upon me. The conductor was Balfe, the composer of the “Bohemian Girl” and other operas. There was at that time a stock chorus in the Theatre Royal, but it was greatly increased by additions from London. There was an exceedingly large *corps-de-ballet, *for then the ballet almost rivalled the music.

Many times I witnessed the performances of the most celebrated quartet of opera singers of the last century, namely, Grisi (soprano), Alboni (contralto), Mario (tenor), and F. Lablache (bass). Their operas were nearly all of the Italian school, such as “Norma,” “Puritani,” “Anna Bollina,” “The Daughter of the Regiment,” “The Barber of Seville,” etc.

Giulia Grisi was a very beautiful woman, quite of the Juno style. The great German poet, Heine, described her as the “singing flower of beauty.” She married the Marquis de Meley when in the zenith of success, and after his death espoused Giuseppe Mario, son of an Italian general. Alboni had not the same personal advantages as Grisi, but possessed a magnificent voice. Like Grisi, she was twice married - first to Count Pepolo, secondly to Monsieur Tieger. Unlike Grisi, she retired from the stage after her second marriage.

Mario was handsome, but was hardly up to the average height of man. The late Sir Thomas Jones, President of the Royal Hibernian Academy, had a striking resemblance to him, which acquired for him the *sobriquet *of “Mario Jones.”

Luigi Lablache, though born in Naples, was the son of a Frenchman and of an Irish mother. He was often described as the greatest deep bass that was ever heard. Amongst his pupils was the late Queen Victoria.

In the ‘fifties an Irish singer, Catherine Hayes, acquired a considerable reputation in opera. A conundrum of the period was, “Why has Catherine Hayes a good figure?” “Because she is neither ‘all boney’ (Alboni) nor ‘greasy’ (Grisi). ”

When Catherine Hayes was 10 years old (in 1835) she was singing in the grounds of the Earl of Limerick. The Hon. and Right Rev. Edmund Knox, Protestant Bishop of Limerick, happened to hear her and was struck by the remarkable quality of her voice. On inquiry, he found that the voice was owned by a pretty child of humble parentage. He took an interest in her, which led to her receiving a musical education. She was only 36 at the time of her death.

Catherine Hayes’ popularity was almost, at least in Ireland, equal to that of Jenny Lind’s. Fond as I was of the opera, I only witnessed her performance on one occasion, which, however, was a remarkable one. The opera was “Lucia di Lammermoor.” The tenor’s singing did not satisfy Catherine, and after a few passages between them she refused to continue her part. A scene followed which might have ended in a row, had not the celebrated vocalist, Sims Reeves, who was a spectator of the opera, volunteered to replace the discarded tenor. Great applause followed, and the opera went on smoothly to its close.

Sims Reeves was wont to stand upon his toes when reaching his top note. When singing, the tenor generally looks upwards, and the bass downwards.

The late Mr. Levey, of violin fame, told me that Catherine’s fees amounted in her short career to nearly £60,000.

In 1860 English opera was revived and rendered popular chiefly through the efforts of Mr. W. Harrison and Miss Louisa Pyne. During the performances of the English Opera in Dublin I went almost every night to witness them, as I had the free *entree *to the Theatre Royal. So completely up to that time had the Italian opera possession of the stage, that the experiment of introducing English opera was considered to be a bold one, incurring great pecuniary risk, and entailing on the *entrepreneurs *an amount of work, both mental and bodily, which if foreseen the task might never have been undertaken.

The company commenced their operas in May, 1860, with Meyerbeer’s last charming work, “Dinorah.” Miss Pyne’s singing was simply perfect. Harrison proved himself so excellent an actor that had his fine voice failed he might have taken exclusively to the “sock and buskin” with great success.

On the first night the house was completely filled, as it was also when “Lurline,” the, at the time, latest composition of William Vincent Wallace, whom we claim as an Irishman, because he was born in Waterford, but not of Irish parents. Ireland, however, had no doubt some influence upon him. For some time he was the conductor of the orchestra in the Theatre Royal.

The choral portion of “Lurline” alone would render it a masterpiece of melody and arrangement. It is a pleasure to me to remember that I was personally acquainted with three of the vocalists who sang the beautiful quartet “Through the World with Transport bless me” - a combination of exquisite harmony and melody.

They were-Miss F. Cruise, Mr. Haydn Corri, and Mr. Grattan Kelly. The fourth in the quartet was Miss Pyne, to whom I had only the pleasure of a mere introduction at a supper party. Quite lately I and some others got up a fund to have a memorial of Grattan Kelly placed in St. Patrick’s Cathedral, where for many years he had been a Vicar Choral.

After Mr. Calcraft, the late Mr. Harris had control of the Theatre Royal. I was intimate with him, and often dined at his house, where his wife proved herself a good hostess. Until Mr. Harris retired from the theatre I was free to all the performances in it. The boxkeeper was for many years a little man who rejoiced in the cheerful name of Joy.

He was a medical man, but had abandoned the healing profession for the dramatic. He retired from the Theatre Royal in order to become manager for Miss Bateman, who had acquired a great reputation as an actress, and in the character of “Leah” had attracted large audiences.

I wrote several critiques on Miss Bateman’s acting, and she entertained me at dinner on two occasions in the Gresham Hotel, where she stayed whilst in Dublin. She had the finest head of bronze-colour hair I have ever seen. People, when they saw it let down whilst she was performing, believed that part of it was tacked on. That this was not the case she showed me on one occasion by allowing her hair to descend to her knees. It was not only long, but abundant. Miss Bateman married Mr. Crowe, an artist of merit. Miss Isabel Bateman is her daughter.

A popular actor, Tom King, who for many years was a member of the stock company at the Theatre Royal, frequently dined with Dr. Joy. On one occasion, whilst sitting beside him at dinner, he mentioned that after he had performed in “The Corsican Brothers” (his great piece) he felt so depressed that he always remained for the farce which in those days generally followed a tragedy. Viewed from a box or other place, the laughter-making farce dispelled the gloom of the tragedian.

The late Mr. Michael Gunn, one of the two brothers who founded the Gaiety Theatre, was much given to generous hospitality, in which he was assisted by Mrs. Gunn, one of the best hostesses I have ever been entertained by. There were few theatrical stars who visited Dublin who were not in their time entertained at dinner or supper by Mr. and Mrs. Gunn.

To many of those entertainments I was invited, and in that way got to see the actors and actresses when they appeared as themselves and not as some other persons. Mr. Gunn has passed from “life’s fitful stage,” but Mrs. Gunn still retains almost the freshness of youth. Before her marriage she was a favourite actress with the Dublin playgoers. Her daughter is now showing that she inherits the excellent dramatic qualities of her mother. **

Charles Kean**

In 1863 I made the acquaintance of Mr. Charles Kean and his wife, who before her marriage was Ellen Tree, and a well-known actress. I frequently dined with the Keans on Sundays, the only day they could entertain, and several times called on them in London. We occasionally corresponded.

At the time I first became acquainted with the Keans, I was the editor and part proprietor of a newspaper, the “Agricultural Review and Country Gentleman’s Newspaper,” in which paper, and also in the “Irish Times,” I wrote critical notices of dramatic performances.

I had a high appreciation of Charles Kean’s representation of various characters in the plays of Shakespeare. Immediately before his time, the works of the great dramatist had almost completely ceased to be presented, but chiefly by Kean’s efforts there was a marked revival of them. Although he did not possess the genius of his father, Edmund Kean, yet he was a scholarly exponent of the wonderful creations of the Bard of Avon, and in melodrama he stood in the first rank. In the “Corsican Brothers” and “Louis XI.” he has never been excelled.

I was very pleased on receiving the following letter from Charles Kean :-

“The Gresham, Dublin,

Wednesday Evening,

12th December, 1863.

My Dear Sir,

I cannot leave Dublin without writing a line to express my deep gratification at the kind manner in which you introduced my name to the readers of the ‘Agricultural Review.’

As an artist, it is always pleasant to receive words of commendation from those whose good opinion we covet; but praise is doubly valuable when written in language remarkable for power and finish by one who has evidently so thorough an appreciation of the great master whose chief characters I endeavour to embody.

I may truly say that I feel most proud of such beautifully written notices on my acting. Let me at the same time take this opportunity of assuring you of the very great pleasure it has afforded me in having been so fortunate during my stay in this city to have made your personal acquaintance, and sincerely hoping that we may soon and often meet again.

I remain, my dear Sir,

Most faithfully yours,

Charles Kean.”

I frequently met the Keans after receiving this letter He died in 1868, and his wife in 1880. As Charles Kean was born in Waterford, we might regard him as a countryman. When a great man is born in Ireland of English, Scotch, or Welsh parents, we claim him for Ireland. When a great man is born in England or elsewhere of Irish parentage or descent, we also claim him as virtually an Irishman. From this point of view we may regard the late Marshal MacMahon, President of the French Republic; Marshal O’Donnell, of Spain; and Count Taaffe, of Austria, as Irishmen. **

Sir Henry Irving.**

I enjoyed Sir Henry Irving’s friendship for many years He had some peculiar mannerisms, but he undoubtedly attained to the highest position as an actor. In only one character did I consider that he was a complete failure, namely, as “Macbeth.”

Whilst “Faust” was running on in the Lyceum Theatre, Mr. (he was not then Sir Henry) Irving invited me to witness it, and afterwards t9 sup with him at the Arts Club, Hanover Square. At the conclusion of the performance, he, Mr. Bram Stoker (his manager), and myself went to the Arts Club, where we found a company of about a dozen of Irving’s guests assembled. Toole, Irving’s great friend; Hayes, the Irish painter; Vitzelly, of the “Illustrated London News” Wills, and other well-known men made up the party.

Toole, who was as amusing off the stage as he was on it, kept us brimful of merriment until three o’clock a.m. Irving was anecdotal. He told us that at his first engagement in the stock company of the Queen’s Theatre, in Dublin, his salary was only 30 shillings a week. He lodged in a house in Great Brunswick Street, near the theatre. He laid in a supply of beer and coffee on Mondays, and “took stock” of them on the following Sundays. He always found that some of the beer bottles and a certain proportion of the coffee were unaccounted for. Mr. Irving said it was worth the loss to witness the surprise and virtuous indignation of the landlady as to how the deficits could possibly have occurred. **

George Grossmith**

I knew the late George Grossmith for many years, and often enjoyed his delightful society. Few there are, or have been, who could, like Grossmith, command, unaided, the attention of a crowded audience for two hours. As a rule, he had only his piano to aid him in his entertainments.

George Grossmith was, equally with Toole, as great a humorist off the stage as he was on it. He was most amusing at dinner parties, where he “kept the table in a roar.” On one occasion when he and I and some others were dining with Dr. Houston, K.C., and his beautiful wife, in Fitzwilliam Square, he was particularly amusing. He produced a silver cup, the property of Dr. Houston, and in a speech brimful of humour presented it to me on the part of the company. As the cup belonged to a lawyer, I did not venture to bring it home.

Grossmith told me the following story:- At the theatre the janitor one night informed him that a gentleman desired to see him, but would not give him his name. “Tell him,” said Grossmith, “that I do not receive nameless persons.” The janitor retired, and on returning said that the gentleman still declined to give his name. “When I pressed him for it, he said ‘Tell Mr. Grossmith Euston wants to see him,’ and I replied that he might as well say his name was ‘Whitechapel.’” “Oh,” said Grossmith, “that is Lord Euston; Show him up.”

Lord Euston has recently died, whilst his father, the Duke of Grafton, still survives and is active at the age of 92. Lord Euston was the lineal descendant of Charles II., but with the bar sinister. I knew him intimately and liked him greatly. He had some of the best characteristics of the Royal Stuarts, whose blood he inherited. He married a lady whom he divorced on the ground that she had already been married and her husband was still alive. Subsequently it transpired that her first husband had been previously married to a woman who was alive at the time of his second marriage, so that Lord Euston’s marriage was valid.

On the 10th April, 1897, the London Savage Club celebrated the Diamond Jubilee of the late Queen Victoria by a banquet. It was held in the Holborn Restaurant, and nearly 400 members and guests were present. My guests were Lord Euston, Mr. J. Fletcher Moore, D.L., of The Manor, Kilbride, County of Wicklow, and his son, Captain Moore. Mr. (now Sir Herbert) Beerbohm Tree occupied the chair.

A huge illuminated menu card showed me that I was to propose the toast of the guests, and that Lord Euston and Mr. (subsequently Sir Samuel) Wilks, President of the Royal College of Physicians, were to respond to it. The College of Physicians’ Hall is a fine building in Pall Mall. Just before I proposed the toast, Lord Euston received a telegram which caused him to leave hurriedly. In the course of my speech I said that many of us had left Euston (all for Ireland leave London by Euston Station), but Euston had now left us pellmell, so Dr. Samuel Wilkes, from Pall Mall, would now have to do duty for both.

The Saturday night dinners of the Savage Club are very entertaining. I have had the pleasure of presiding at several of them, and of inviting my friends to them. The best music is sure to be heard at those dinners. It is always of a varied character, serious and comic. There are recitations, and occasionally even scientific demonstrations. The club is limited to 600 members.

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