have had a very damaging effect on the interests of the drama. This is quite true in the abstract, and sound as a general principle, but instances, such as the present, furnish unanswerable exceptions. The matter reduces itself to a commercial speculation, and viewed in that light, no one will deny that "The intrinsic value of a thing Is just as much as it will bring." We believe Charles Kean was the first actor of Hamlet (of any note) who gave up the old traditionary practice of having a stocking "down-gyved to his ankle," during that portion of the play where he assumes a disordered intellect a piece of stage-trickery sufficiently vulgar, and certainly "more honour'd in the breach than the observance." Even Garrick, although a reformer, indulged sometimes in these stage trickeries. It is recorded, that in the closet-scene with the Queen, he had a mechanical contrivance by which the chair fell as if of itself, when he started up on the entrance of the ghost. Henderson, his immediate successor in the part, rejected this, and his doing so was called, by the critics of the day, "a daring innovation.” The popularity of Charles Kean's Hamlet was by no means on the decline; but the public were anxious to see the new performer in another character, and accordingly, in compliance with incessant applications at the box-office, Richard III. was brought forward on the 5th of February. The actor's powers were thus tested in a part of stirring, restless energy, totally distinct from the contemplative philosophy of Hamlet. He achieved another signal triumph. His success, both with the public and the press, fully equalled that of his first appearance. A highly influential organ thus conveyed its opinion :— "When we witnessed Mr. Charles Kean's Hamlet, we saw that he had mind; but wo certainly did feel a doubt whether his physical powers would enable him successfully to enact characters where great bodily as well as great mental exertion was required. His performance of last night has dissipated the doubt. His vigour seemed to grow with the exigency of the scene. It is not often that the son inherits any great portion of the genius of the father. In this instance, however, the mantle of the father has fallen gracefully on the Mr. Kean has studied the character thoroughly, he understands it, and plays it in a manner worthy of his name.' son. On the first night of Richard, the Queen was present throughout the entire play, and commanded the manager to express to Charles Kean her extreme approbation of his performance. A New Way to Pay Old Debts was not produced until the engagement was drawing near its close. This play had slumbered on the shelves since the declining days of Edmund Kean, no living actor venturing to grapple with his gigantic reputation in the character of Sir Giles Overreach. It was reserved for his son to do so, and give another proof that his genius was hereditary; but the play, with all its vigour, and the demoniac power of the leading character, is coarse and repulsive, little suited to the extreme fastidiousness of modern delicacy. When Charles Kean returned from Edinburgh, his London performances were resumed, but with something of diminished attraction. The season was advancing, and the interruption (as all persons experienced in theatrical matters anticipated) had given a check to the flowing tide of success. "A change," too, had suddenly "come o'er the spirit" of the press; some of the influential journals assumed an altered tone, and condemned the identical "points" they had a short time before so warmly praised. It was impossible that a few weeks of absence could have produced any variation in the actor's style, or the measure of his pretensions. A hostile clique was forming, but how, wherefore, or by whom suggested, it would be fruitless to inquire. If professional jealousy, in any shape, had anything to do with this, it never was exercised upon less justifiable grounds. Charles Kean had always proved himself a kind and generous friend to his less prosperous brethren. We could enumerate many instances which have fallen within our own knowledge. He had now to contend occasionally with a cap Times, February 6th, 1838. tious criticism and a dissentient opinion; but an overwhelming majority were with him, enough to satisfy the most ambitious candidate for public favour. Universal suffrage is an impracticable chimera. An actor's fame is greatly advanced by an original character; it places him on his own ground, freed from the disadvantage of comparison. Charles Kean, fully convinced of this, applied to Sir Edward Bulwer, in the hope of being aided by his powerful genius. We insert his letter, with the reply :: "To SIR E. LYTTON BULWER, Bart. "Liverpool, November 13th, 1838. "SIR,―The flattering success which has attended my attempts in the provinces to do justice to the character of Claude Melnotte," and the debt of gratitude I owe you for the means thus afforded me of advancing my professional career, must be my apology for addressing you, if a better excuse did not exist in your character as an author, and the deserved influence you possess over our dramatic literature. I am most anxious to appear in London in a new part, and I feel that your assistance would be invaluable in the promotion of this purpose, and of my desire to carry out all the objects of the legitimate drama in a spirit of honourable competition. If it should suit your views to give me the benefit of your great talents on this occasion, I shall be sincerely grateful; and though pecuniary considerations can be no object with you, I think it right to add, as a matter of business, that I place myself and a carte blanche at your disposal. I trust there is no indelicacy in saying this, when I reflect how much I should still remain your debtor, by the honour I might hope to derive from the representation of any character from the pen of Sir Lytton Bulwer. "I have the honour to be, sir, "Your most obedient servant, "TO CHARLES KEAN, ESQ. 8, Charles-street, Berkeley's-square, "November 14. "MY DEAR SIR,-Believe me sincerely obliged and flattered by your letter, and the request it contains. The manner in which you express your wish cannot but make me anxious, sooner or later, to comply with it. I fear, however, that at present, heavy engagements, and other circumstances, tedious to enter upon, will not allow me an honour otherwise sincerely to be desired, and which you will permit me to consider not sacrificed, but deferred. For the rest, allow me to assure you that the pecuniary considerations to which you so delicately allude, are not likely to form an obstacle against any future arrangements; and that Early in June, 1839, he entered on his first engagement at the Haymarket, under the management of Mr. Webster, receiving, as at Drury-lane, £50 a night and a benefit. This engagement was extended beyond the number of nights originally settled, Hamlet proving the most popular performance. Towards the close of the summer, anxious once more to visit a country where to (use his own words, in his farewell address to the Haymarket audience), "in his early professional struggles he had found a home to receive and friends to cheer him," he crossed the Atlantic, and, in September, appeared at the National Theatre, in Churchstreet, New York. But a fatality seemed to attend his second visit to the United States. He was suffering from an affection of the throat; his voice gave way, and on the fourth night he entirely broke down. The theatre was destroyed by fire soon after. At Boston, in December, 1839, he narrowly escaped a frightful catastrophe. While acting Rolla, in Pizarro, and standing between the wings, preparatory to his entrance for the dying scene, the child was brought to him; he stepped a pace forward to receive it; the leader of the supernumeraries, named Stimpson, who was also waiting to go on as one of the soldiers, moved into the spot he had left vacant; at that moment a heavy counterweight fell from the machinery above, broke through a slight scaffolding, and crushed the The hero of Sir E. L. Bulwer's highly popular play of The Lady of Lyons, one of the most successful of modern dramas, This character was first acted in London by Mr. Macready, with great ability. unfortunate underling, who was killed on the spot, his blood profusely sprinkling the dress of Rolla as he rushed on from the wing to finish the tragedy. An attack of bronchitis soon after this compelled him to abandon various engagements. Loss of time to a professional man is loss of money. He returned to England, after visiting the Havanna, his second transatlantic trip being less protracted and remunerative than he had anticipated. On the first of June, 1840, he resumed his performances at the Haymarket, and added Macbeth, for the first time, to the list of his London characters. In this, probably the most difficult to embody amongst all the mighty conceptions of Shakspere, his success equalled the sanguine expectations of his friends, and it has always been considered one of his ablest delineations. In the last act in particular, he was singularly energetic: his death-scene was original and effective. The play was very carefully produced; it ran fifteen nights, and materially served both the actor and the theatre. During the following season, Romeo and Juliet was produced under his direction; Miss Ellen Tree being the Juliet, and Mr. James Wallack, Mercutio. His provincial engagements continued as attractive as ever, and with each succeeding year his fame and fortune were steadily increasing. On the 29th of January, 1842, occurred the most auspicious event in his life-the wisest step he had ever taken, and the surest guarantee of his future prosperity: he was married at the church of St. Thomas, in Dublin, to Miss Ellen Tree-an attachment of long standing, and, in every respect, "a well-assorted union." By this Charles Kean not only secured his domestic happiness, but obtained a large addition to his worldly means, and an invaluable co-operator in his theatrical career. By a rare combination of private and professional excellence, Miss Ellen Tree had already acquired a handsome independence, and placed herself in the foremost rank of the distinguished females whose names shed lustre on the history of the British Drama. In characters requiring great physical power, with the more commanding attributes, something might be wanting which a few others had excelled her in; but in all the softer delineations, in a just discrimination of the tenderer passions, in versatility, in natural pathos, or elegant vivacity-in a clear knowledge of her author's meaning, and in lady-like deportment-she was, and is, without a superior on the modern stage. This marriage, which, for reasons of their own, was not immediately made public, took place on the last day of their Dublin engagement, and on that same evening, by a odd coincidence, they performed together in The Honeymoon. Their first appearance in the acknowledged characters of man and wife took place at Glasgow on the 27th of the following February-the combined attraction producing, in five performances in one week, the sum of £1000. During the following summer, both were engaged at the Haymarket Theatre. As You Like It, The Gamester, and The Lady of Lyons were frequently repeated. They also appeared in a new play by Sheridan Knowles, called The Rose of Arragon, which, though successful in representation, and acted for twenty-five consecutive nights, is, nevertheless, one of the least agreeable productions of a very superior writer. During the winter of 1843, Charles Kean entered into a separate engagement with Mr. Bunn at Drury-lane, receiving the same terms as in 1838. On this occasion Richard III. was produced in a style of unprecedented magnificence, with correct costumes and decorations. America has generally proved an "El Dorado" to the leading London "stars." Mrs. C. Kean was desirous of paying a farewell visit to the many kind friends she had formerly made in that country, and a very tempting offer presenting itself, they laid aside several excellent engagements at home, and in the summer of 1845 once more embarked for the United States. Their success was everywhere "prodigious." By the close of the first year they realised and sent home a greater profit than had ever before been accomplished within the same time. A new play, called The Wife's Secret, proved universally attractive. This play, a production of sterling merit, was written by Mr. G. Lovell, already well known in the literary and dramatic world by the Merchant of Bruges, Love's Sacrifice, &c., &c. It was purchased by Kean (who fully relied on the talent of his author) for the large sum of £400, before it was commenced. In the year 1846 he ventured on an experiment never before hazarded in VOL. XXXVI-NO. CCXIV. 2 F America-the production of the two gorgeous historical tragedies of Richard III. and King John, on a scale of splendour which no theatre in London or Paris could have surpassed. The scenery, the decorations, the banners, armorial bearings, heraldic blazonry, groupings, and all the minor details were so correctly studied, that the most fastidious reader of Montfauçon or Meyrick would have been puzzled to detect an error. But our brethren of the stars and stripes are utilitarians rather than antiquaries; more inclined to look forward than to pore over ancient chronicles: they appeared not to enjoy with a perfect zest the pomp of feudal royalty, or the solemn pageantry of baronial privileges. The upshot of all was, that the expenditure far exceeded the return, and the produce of the second year bore no comparison with that of the first. In the summer of 1847 they returned to England. Their first act on arriving at home was one of disinterested kindness. Hearing, through a mutual friend, that Mr. Calcraft, the lessee of the Dublin Theatre, had fallen into difficulties, they crossed at once to Ireland, and volunteered to perform for his benefit. The attraction of these powerful auxiliaries, added to the personal popularity of the manager, produced a house crowded by all the rank and fashion of the Irish metropolis. The play selected was The Jealous Wife, in which Mr. and Mrs. Kean (for the first time in Europe) appeared as Mr. and Mrs. Oakly. The Lord Lieutenant, the Earl of Clarendon, who had very lately entered on his office, was present, with the Countess and the viceregal suite. They expressed warm approbation of the performance, and on the following Saturday, the 31st July, visited the theatre in state, commanding the appearance of Mr. and Mrs. Kean in the comedy of The Wonder. This produced a second house as numerously attended as the former one. They had thus the satisfaction of rendering a double service to an old and valued friend at a very critical juncture. After going through a series of engagements, all settled before they had sailed for America, in Birmingham, Manchester, Liverpool, and Dublin, they returned to the Haymarket Theatre early in January, 1848, and appeared in their new play of The Wife's Secret. Their reception and the success of the play were equally enthusiastic. It was repeated thirty-six times with undiminished effect; the engagement, originally for thirty nights, was extended to sixty; and on the occasion of their benefit her Majesty honoured them with her presence, conferring the distinction of a "special patronage." At the commencement of 1849, Charles Kean was selected, without application on his part, to conduct the "Windsor Theatricals"-a series of private performances at the Castle, adopted by the Queen and Prince Albert, with the double object of gratifying their own tastes, and promoting the interests of the British drama. The compliment was a highly gratifying one, both to the man and the actor; but the difficulties accompanying it were of no trifling nature. A very general desire was manifested to appear before royalty; but it was no easy task to reconcile conflicting claims, or bring down expectations, occasionally unreasonable, to a practicable standard. That Kean acquitted himself to the perfect satisfaction of his august employers, may be assumed from the facts that her Majesty presented him with a diamond ring, and accorded him the still more flattering honour of a personal interview. To satisfy all his brethren of the sockand-buskin was a much more arduous undertaking. He laboured with unceasing tact, command of temper, and perfect impartiality; but he discovered that to roll up-hill the stone of Sisyphus, to draw water in the bucket of the Danaidæ, or to carve Mount Athos into a statue, would be gentle pastime, compared to the complicated Herculean labour he had vainly hoped to accomplish. On the 30th of March, 1849, the widow of Edmund Kean died at Keydell, near Horndean, in Hampshire, the country residence of her son, on a small estate he had purchased in 1844, and where she had found a happy retreat during the closing years of her chequered and eventful existence. The history of the elder Mrs. Kean presents us with a moral lesson of the deepest interest, a subject for profound reflection, and a special instance of the varied dispensations of Providence. During the early years of her married life she struggled with many privations, and drained the cup of poverty to its bitterest dregs-then came the episode of London success, with all its unlooked-for luxury and ruinous profusion; then followed the desertion of her husband, the combined evils of broken health and vanished hopes; disease, neglect, and destitution, more pungently felt from an interval of prosperity; until, finally raised again by the filial piety and untiring exertions of her son, she passed the evening of her days surrounded by all the comforts of affluence, and all the soothing cares of the fondest affection. On the 21st of May, 1849, Charles Kean presided at the fourth anniversary dinner of the General Theatrical Fund, to which he had always been an annual contributor-an excellent institution, well deserving the general support it appears to receive. It was the first time he had ever been called on to discharge the duties of chairman at a public dinner. According to the published accounts, he acquitted himself with much ability, and spoke with pathos and effect. The collection exceeded, by nearly £100, the sum obtained on any of the former occasions. During the seasons of 1848-9, and 1849-50, Charles Kean departed from the plan he had hitherto adopted in his London engagements, and accepted a permanent situation with Mr. Webster at the Haymarket Theatre. He was principally induced by family considerations-the declining health of his mother, and a desire to superintend the early education of his daughter and only child, a little girl now nearly seven years old. In January he was commanded to direct the second series of Windsor theatricals, which were unexpectedly curtailed by the intervening death of the Queen Dowager, and has now, a third time, been entrusted with the same commission for the approaching Christmas. In March last, he and Mrs. Kean concluded their engagements at the Haymarket. On the occasion of their benefit the Queen again honoured them with her presence and special patronage. The play selected was Much Ado about Nothing; they appeared as Bencdick and Beatrice, characters in which they had gained much reputation during the season. In August, in conjunction with Mr. Keeley, he entered on a lease, for two years, of the Princess's Theatre in Oxford-street, and for the first time embarked on the "stormy sea" of management. His season commenced, under highly favourable auspices, on the 28th of September. We have thus briefly sketched the principal incidents in the life of Charles Kean, from his birth to the present date. That he has been a fortunate man, in the general acceptation of the term, no one will deny; and that he merits his good fortune will be as readily conceded by all impartial judges. In his early career he had much to contend against, and his history presents strong points of encouragement to all who are destined to fight their way through the world, of whatever calling or profession. The towering reputation of his father, and the name he inherited, were more frequently impediments than advantages, as inviting invidious comparisons rather than indulgent recollections. A natural resemblance in the son was reproached as a positive offence; while the most palpable and servile imitation in a stranger was cordially hailed as indicative of kindred genius. At the same time his high gentlemanlike bearing, his wellknown affection for his mother, and his honourable character, were powerful auxiliaries, backing his own genius, and carrying him gallantly over many opposing obstacles and many prejudiced opinions. The professional reputation of Charles Kean is erected on a sound foundation. As Junius says, in reference to the fame of Lord Chatham, "Recorded honours shall gather round his monument, and thicken over him. It is a solid fabric, and will support the laurels that adorn it." It may here be expected that we should enter into a detailed analysis of Charles Kean's peculiar style of acting, an estimate of his powers, and a critical comparison between him and the other leading performers who have illustrated his era. But we abstain from this at present. It sounds too like a requiem or an epitaph; and we trust many long and happy years will elapse before he becomes a candidate for either. This one fact, however, is certain-his reputation is exclusively built on his delineations of Shakspere. Hitherto he has derived little assistance from original characters. In this respect, both his father and himself have been less fortunate than their predecessors. Rolla, The Stranger, Penruddock, and Octavian, assisted the fame of John Kemble, nearly as much as Hamlet, Lear, Wolsey, or Coriolanus. Virginius, William Tell, The only exception is, probably, "Sir Walter Amyot," in The Wife's Secret, and this can scarcely be ranked as a first-rate character. |