- PICTURE RESEARCH BY ROB MORRISON
The Illustrated Weekly News (London), 22 March 1862, p.1
In anticipation of Charles and Ellen Kean’s imminent visit to the Australian colonies the local Victorian press published the following biographical articles outlining their lives and theatrical careers to date.
MR. CHARLES KEAN
The following memoir of this eminent actor is extracted from a work entitled “Men of the Time.”
Charles John Kean, Tragedian, son of the great but erratic genius Edmund Kean, was born at Waterford on the 18th January, 1811; his mother, a descendant of the old and respectable family of the Cuffes, being also a native of Waterford. After the usual preparatory course at private schools, he was entered at Eton in 1821, with an allowance for board and education of £100 a-year, and remained there three years. Living as high a stand as the rules of the institution would allow. When removed, he was in the upper division of the school, where he obtained much credit for his Latin verses. In one of the favourite amusements of the school—boating—he became so expert, that he was elected Second Captain of the Long Boats; no slight distinction in the eyes of an Eton boy. He also achieved under Angelo considerable repute as a fencer, an accomplishment which stood him in some stead in after years. Up to this period the fortunes of his family continued to be highly prosperous. Since the days of Garrick, indeed, no actor had ever realised so much money in so short a space of time as Edmund Kean. This is no place in which to follow him in his retrograde course. Suffice it to remark, that he soon fell from his high position; his popularity declined; his physical powers sunk under a premature decay; and his finances, dissipated by his riotous course of life, also became exhausted. Never has a genius presented such a wreck, moral and physical, so total and so deplorable. His son had for some time suspected the derangement of his father's affairs, but knew not the worst until recalled from Eton in 1827 by a pressing letter from his mother. He found her weighed down by sickness and anxiety and the affairs of his father in a condition of absolute ruin. At this critical moment Mr Calcraft, one of the most influential members of the Drury Lane Committee, offered him a cadetship in the East India Company's Service. This offer was accepted by his father, and he was ordered to make instant preparations for his departure; but taking into consideration the broken health of his mother, without any relative beside her son to whom she could look, he firmly refused to leave England whilst she lived, and declined, with becoming acknowledgments, the proffered kindness of Mr Calcraft. The anger of his father was excited to the highest pitch.
“What will you do,” he said, “when I discard you, and you are thrown entirely on your own resources?”
“In that case,” replied his son, “I shall be compelled to go upon the stage,” (the father smiled derisively), “and although I may never he a great actor, I shall at least obtain a livelihood for my mother, and be obliged to no one.”
Edmund Kean by Samuel Cousins (1814)
National Portrait Gallery, London
Charles Kean by Rose Myra Drummond (c.1838)
National Portrait Gallery, London
In the following July, when the Eton vacation arrived, Charles was informed that his accounts were paid up; that his allowance had been withdrawn; and that he was, consequently, not to return to the college. A rare exception to the ordinary practice of Etonians, he had contracted no debts, and had, consequently, no difficulty originating in his own imprudence to contend with. Having made his way to London he hastened to his mother's lodgings, and found her overwhelmed by the combined evils of sickness, distress of mind, and poverty. A small yearly stipend, hitherto allowed her by her husband, had been withdrawn. She and her son were without money or resources of any kind: a condition more forlorn can scarcely be conceived. At this conjuncture of their affairs a misunderstanding arose between Edmund Kean and Mr Stephen Price, the lessee of the Drury Lane Theatre, which led Mr Kean to enter into an engagement with Mr Charles Kemble at Covent Garden. Mr Price having heard of Charles Kean's position, and relying perhaps, on “the might and magic of a name,” offered him a three years' engagement at £10 a week for the first year, £11 for the second, and £12 for the third. His first appearance on any stage took place at Drury Lane Theatre, on the opening night of the season, October 1, 1827, and the character of Norval, in Home's tragedy of Douglass, was selected for his debut. He had not yet attained the age of seventeen, and was so complete a stripling in appearance, that the authorities of the theatre hesitated whether to announce him as Mr Kean, junior, or Master Kean; but he settled the point himself by rejecting the latter designation with disdain. If his success was not as pronounced as it might have been, no one could deny that he had made a decided hit. The press, however, was all but unanimous in its condemnation of him; for when “critics do agree their unanimity is wonderful.” In these circumstances he proposed to release Mr Price from his engagement; but the worthy Yankee, who could see farther than most theatrical managers, declined to avail himself of the opportunity, and urged him to persevere. With no great amount of hope, but with a determination strengthened by sense of duty, he lingered at Drury Lane Theatre until the termination of the season; appearing from time to time as Norval, Selim in Barbarossa, Frederick in Lovers’ Vows, (on which occasion he made acquaintance for the first time with Mrs C. Kean), and Lothaire in Adelgitha; but he obtained no reversal of the unfavourable verdict which had been passed upon him; and in a state of great discouragement and mortification he left London for a tour of practice in the provinces.
Charles Kean as Young Norval by Thomas McLean (1827)
Victoria & Albert Museum, London
Charles Kean as Selim, published by John Cumberland, London, 28 October 1827
Victoria & Albert Museum, London
Theatre Royal, Drury Lane (1828) by Thomas Hosmer Shepherd
During an engagement at Glasgow he visited his father in the Isle of Bute, and a complete reconciliation was the result. This led to an offer on the part of the elder Kean to act one night at Glasgow for his son's benefit, Brutus to his Titus, in Howard Payne's tragedy of Brutus. The house was crowded to excess, the receipts amounting to nearly £300. In January, 1829, Mr Charles Kean returned to Drury Lane and played Romeo to Miss Phillips’ Juliet, but fortune had not yet begun to smile upon his efforts. In the summer he acted with his father in Dublin and Cork; appearing as Titus, Bassanio, Wellborn, lago, Icilius, and Macduff. In the ensuing October he accepted an offer from Mr Morris of the Haymarket to play six nights during the concluding fortnight of the season, for £20. He acted Romeo twice, to Miss F. H. Kelly's Juliet, and Frederick in Lovers’ Vows twice. On the fifth night he appeared as Sir Edward Mortimer [in The Iron Chest by George Colman, the Younger], and felt for the first time in his life that he had made a decided impression. The play was repeated for the closing night, and drew considerable applause. He was even praised by the press. He now resolved to try his fortune in America; and with this view arrived at New York in September 1830, where he appeared at the Park Theatre as Richard III. In January, 1833, he returned to England and entered into an engagement with M Laporte to become a member of the Covent Garden Company. He had played but a short time at Covent Garden, when his father returned to its boards for a few nights, and once more, and for the last time, they appeared upon the stage together. The once marvellous impersonator of Shakespeare's noblest characters was but the wreck of what we remembered him to have been, and a more painful exhibition can scarcely be conceived. He was well nigh dying on the stage; but having been removed to a neighbouring tavern, and finally to Richmond, expired there on the 15th May. A short time before his death he sought a reconciliation with his wife. The reunion, after an estrangement of seven years, was complete. The first appearance of Charles Kean after his father's death was in Sheridan Knowles’ Wife in which he played Leonardo Gonzaga to Miss Ellen Tree's Mariana; Knowles himself filling the part of Julian St Pierre. This piece ran for the rest of the season, and continued to draw crowded houses long after the Covent Garden company had removed to the Olympic; but as yet the young actor had never been fully satisfied with his success. In an interview with the Treasurer of Drury Lane Theatre, in the course of which an offer was made to him to join its company at a comparatively low salary, he declined it at once, declaring that he would never set foot in a London theatre again excepting upon his own terms of £50 a-night. “Then, Charles Kean,” rejoined Mr Dunn with a smile, “I fear you may bid a long farewell to London, for the days of such salaries are gone for ever!” This prognostic was soon falsified. At the end of five years, during which he had realized £20,000 by acting in the provinces, Charles Kean drove to the stage door of Drury Lane in his own carriage, with a signed agreement in his pocket for £50 a-night: which arrangement was paid him for upwards of forty nights by the very man who had predicted its impossibility. In 1833, after the London season, Charles Kean accepted an engagement at Hamburg under Mr Braham Livius, the heroine of the company being Miss Ellen Tree; but their performances were interrupted by the refusal of the authorities to allow “foreigners” to interfere with the profits of the local establishments.
He was now to take his stand among the heads of his profession, or to sink into a secondary rank. His enemies attributed his success to his good fortune in satisfying provincial audiences, and proclaimed their belief that if he attempted to face a London audience he would find his proper level. This opportunity was soon afforded him when Mr Macready entered, in 1837, upon the management of Covent Garden Theatre, he applied to him, in terms sufficiently indicative of his opinion of his merits, for his co-operation. After complimenting Mr Macready's fitness for the task he had undertaken, in language worthy of the occasion, he declined the offer. Mr Kean naturally desired a more exclusive position than could have been conceded to him under Mr Macready's management setting the probable amount of remuneration wholly out of sight; and he, therefore, acted wisely in accepting an offer from Mr Bunn of £50 a night at Drury Lane for twenty nights. There could be no unfair antagonism in this; but it seems to have made Mr Macready's adherents of the press very angry notwithstanding.
Charles Kean as Hamlet by William Daniel (c.1838)
Victoria & Albert Museum, London
Charles Kean as Macbeth by Richard James Lane; published 1 October 1840
Victoria & Albert Museum, London
Oh the 8th of January, 1838, Mr Kean appeared as Hamlet with distinguished success and seems at once to have established his position as an actor. His performance extended to forty-three nights, and would have lasted much longer, but that an engagement in Edinburgh demanded his presence in that city. On his return from Edinburgh, desiring to obtain a novelty of the highest character, he applied to Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, in whose Lady of Lyons he had made a great hit in the provinces, to write him a play on his own terms; but Sir Edward pleaded “heavy engagements” for not accepting the offer. In 1839 Mr Kean made a similar engagement with Mr Webster to that which he had made with Mr Bunn, of £50 a night and a benefit. This arrangement, like its predecessor, was extended. On its termination he once more crossed the Atlantic, and at Boston, in 1839, narrowly escaped being killed by the fall of part of the stage machinery; an actor beside him having been crushed to death on the spot. He was here seized with an attack of bronchitis which compelled him to abandon several engagements. After a visit to the Havanna he returned, in June 1840 to the Haymarket, where he added Macbeth to his list of London characters, with entire success. In the ensuing season he played Romeo to Miss Ellen Tree's Juliet. On the 20th of January, 1842, he was united in marriage to that amiable and accomplished actress; and thus secured not only a most congenial partner in life, and a handsome addition to his fortune, but an invaluable coadjutor in his theatrical pursuits. By a pleasant coincidence they were called upon to play in The Honeymoon immediately after their marriage. At Glasgow, in the following February, their combined performances secured for them £1,000 in a single week. Wishing to pay a farewell visit to his American friends, Mr Kean again crossed the Atlantic accompanied by his wife, and at the end of the first year had realised a larger amount of profit than had ever been made in that country in the same space of time. In 1846 he ventured on the production, in America, of King John and Richard III on a scale of splendour never before witnessed in the country; but the expenses far exceeded the receipts. In 1847 Mr and Mrs Kean returned to England, and hearing that their friend Mr Calcraft, the lessee of the Dublin Theatre, had fallen into difficulties, crossed over to Dublin to play for his benefit; and after fulfilling a series of engagements in Birmingham, Manchester, Liverpool, and Dublin they returned to the Haymarket in January 1848 where they appeared in The Wife's Secret no fewer than thirty six times; her Majesty honouring them with her presence at their benefit. In 1849 Mr Kean was selected by her Majesty to conduct the Windsor Theatricals. During the seasons of 1848–49 and 1849–50 he accepted an engagement with Mr Webster, at the Haymarket. In the ensuing January he was again entrusted with the management of the Windsor Theatricals. The joint management of Mr Kean and Mr Keeley at the Princess's Theatre commenced on the 28th September, 1850, and terminated on the 17th October, 1851; a very prosperous season of nearly thirteen months. Her Majesty took a box at the Princess's Theatre, for the first time; for the season 1851–52. Mr Kean now entered upon the management alone. His first great revival was King John, which ran thirty-one nights and was commanded at Windsor; a magnificent pageant, which proved very attractive.
Charles and Ellen Kean as Sir Walter and Lady Amyott in The Wife's Secret by Richard James Lane; published 15 April 1848
National Portrait Gallery, London
Scene from Richard III
The Illustrated London News, 4 March 1854, p.193
During the season of 1852–53 Macbeth ran fifty three nights, and drew crowded houses. In 1853–54 Richard III although put on the stage with great splendour, was a failure with which the absence of Mrs Kean, from illness, may have had a good deal to do. The season for 1854–55 opened with a play by Mr Douglas Jerrold, which was only played eleven nights, and then withdrawn. In Louis XI Mr Kean acquired fresh laurels by his successful exposition of that character. The Pantomimes of the Princess's Theatre have been always productive. One of them ran nearly eighty nights. Hamlet is often acted there, and always with success; and Richard III, The Tempest, and others, have been tried without failure. Mr Kean's good taste and genius, and that of his wife, have rendered this little theatre one of the most agreeable places of resort in the metropolis.
Geelong Advertiser (Vic.), Wednesday, 30 September 1863, p.3
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Charles Kean (1863) by Southwell Brothers (London)
National Portrait Gallery, London
Ellen Kean (1863) by Southwell Brothers (London)
National Portrait Gallery, London
BIOGRAPHY OF MR. AND MRS. CHARLES KEAN.
(FROM THE EUROPEAN TIMES.)
As these great artistes are about to leave England for Australia, we think it will be agreeable to the colonists to receive an outline of their theatrical career. Standing, as they do, on the pinnacle of their profession at home, and holding the highest social position, we have no doubt that their reception at the antipodes will be of that enthusiastic kind which will do honor both to the givers and receivers. Mr C. Kean is not only our most eminent actor, but also a very distinguished man. The knowledge he exhibited in his marvellous revivals of Shakespeare's plays occasioned his election as a Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries, thereby entitling him to the honorable distinction of adding F.S.A. after his name. He belongs to the Athenaeum—a club whose members are composed of men celebrated for their acquirements in literature and art, and amongst whom are included many of the dignitaries of the Church. Mr and Mrs Kean's visit to Australia can be but brief, as it is understood they will commence their farewell engagements throughout the United Kingdom, previous to their final retirement from the stage, in the autumn of 1864—then to rest from their long and arduous toils, and to enjoy the honors and universal respect they have obtained during their professional course.
There is an old-world proverb which teaches us that “man proposes, but God disposes;” and the practical value of the brief, homely assertion, consists in the solace which it affords us when under the pressure of some apparent misfortune. Our expectations have been thwarted, and our hopes crushed. What of that? Let us wait patiently till the end, and we shall find not only that our calamity is but one among many results of a great, wise, beneficent plan, which operates for the general good, but that even with respect to ourselves as individuals, the seeming curse proves to be a real blessing. To whom could the world have offered a more blank prospect than to the boy Charles Kean, when he first resolved to enter upon the theatrical profession. Educated at Eton, among the aristocracy of the land, many of whom still delight to speak of him as one of the chief ornaments of the college, he was encouraged to indulge in various dreams of future greatness. His mother hoped that he would be a luminary of the church—his father designed him for the navy; he himself was anxious to earn laurels by a career of military glory. No one thought of the stage in connection with Charles Kean. It is needless to dwell on the foibles of the late Mr Edmund Kean. Like many men endowed with lofty genius, he lacked the household virtue, prudence; and the material means which had nourished the hopes of the young Etonian were suddenly withdrawn. Edmund Kean had received more money than any actor since Garrick, in the same time, and his son Charles had every right to believe that whatever path to future eminence he selected, he would tread it, not as an humble aspirant, but as the heir to a considerable fortune. It was decreed otherwise. In the midst of his promising career at Eton, he was suddenly summoned to London, where he learned that he must rely on his own resources. Without going into unnecessary details, we may here observe that the change in Charles Kean's prospects was partly owing to his own high sense of duty. He was offered a cadetship in India, which might have been the beginning of a life of glory, but the acceptance of the offer would have necessitated a separation from his mother, who was completely bedridden, and had no one but him to rely upon. Ambition and filial duty called him in opposite directions; he obeyed the holier voice, and chose the theatrical profession—not from inclination, but because it best enabled him to perform the offices of a devoted son. The position of Charles Kean and his mother in those dark days is so interesting that we may quote the testimony of an eye witness of their early struggles to the deep sympathy that existed between them:—
“Edmund Kean was blessed with a simple-minded, devoted wife, whom he unhappily never appreciated. She was for ever sorrowing over and forgiving his irregularities, and for ever instilling into their young son principles of honor, justice and truth, in the endeavor to protect him hereafter from those vices which eventually ruined his father. The soil was good, and the seed she sowed grew fast and strong, and amply she was repaid for her Christian motherly care. I knew them when they were poor and nearly friendless, and when she had no comfort in life but him. Her health was broken by domestic misfortunes—she was almost a cripple, and in constant bodily suffering. He was the light of her life, her food, her joy, her all; and her helpless state was to him a sort of balance to his youth. His devotion to her made him a thoughtful boy, and filled his heart with honest ambition. She was a true Irish woman, in the most pleasing sense of the term. Her heart was open as the day, and she was liberal to a fault. All her ideas were large, and these her son imbibed. If genius is hereditary, we may suppose that Charles Kean took his genius from his father; but the high tone of his mind, his strict sense of justice, his truth and nobility of soul, all spring from his mother.”
Let us go back for a moment to the proverb cited at the commencement of this article. Would any of the honorable vocations to which Charles Kean might have appointed himself have been productive of higher distinction than has resulted from the disappointment of his youth? If we allow ourselves to take a leap from the days of his boyhood to the summer of 1859, when a splendid banquet was given in his honor, and the Duke of Newcastle and the Chancellor of the Exchequer spoke of him as “a benefactor to his country;” when (to use the words of the Duke) he was proclaimed, before a world of rank, intellect, and fashion, “the hierarch of the glorious temple in which Shakespeare is enshrined”—when it was universally felt that the obloquy so lightly cast by prejudice upon the actor's vocation had received its death-blow through his efforts and his genius—surely we shall be forced to admit that for the early disappointment he ultimately received an ample compensation. We may pass over the career of Mr Charles Kean in London and the provinces as a juvenile actor. One affecting incident may, however, be mentioned, namely, a meeting with his father in Scotland, and the appearance of them both together, at Glasgow, as Brutus and his son Titus, in Howard Payne's tragedy. The last time (and the only time in London) that they acted together was at Covent Garden, in the tragedy of Othello, when The Moor was played by Edmund Kean, Iago by his son Charles, and Desdemona by Miss Ellen Tree, now Mrs Charles Kean. At the end of the celebrated “Farewell” speech, in the third act, Edmund Kean's strength failed; he was borne almost lifeless from the stage, and died a few weeks afterwards.
Edmund Kean in Brutus by Richard Dighton (1818)
National Portrait Gallery, London
Edmund Kean as Othello by John William Gear (early 19th Century)
National Portrait Gallery, London
The first period of Mr Charles Kean's professional trip is terminated by a visit to America, where he remained three years, sending home to his mother liberal remittances, which were rendered doubly welcome to her by the knowledge that it was the unmistakeable evidence of the advance he was making in his profession that enabled him to do so. An accident on his landing at Portsmouth, when he returned to England, in January, 1833, seemed to forewarn him that he had still a cold world to battle with, and many a struggle to encounter. So anxious was he once more to embrace that tender mother to whom he owed so much, that although the winter evening was far advanced, and a thick fog was gathering, he was heedless of the prudent cautions of those around him, and hired a boat that he might land at Portsmouth and travel up to London by the night mail and surprise his beloved parent on the following morning. Impatient youth and nervous excitement made him too eager, and he slipped between the boat and the ship into the water. A waterman rescued him, but he still persisted in going ashore, and after having handsomely rewarded his preserver, he found the coach was just starting for London. He jumped on the top of it in his wet clothes, and in a few hours his mother was blessed with the sight of her long absent boy. On his return to the English capital, he was engaged at Covent Garden, and it was during this engagement that the painful scene to which we have above referred took place. A career that would have satisfied one who was less conscious of his high mission was now clear before him; but he retired into the provinces, resolved not to set his foot again on a London stage, till he could command a salary of £50 per night. An amusing story, the authenticity of which may be relied on, is told in connection with this resolution. Shortly after the termination of the Covent Garden season, Mr Charles Kean accidentally met Mr Dunn, the old treasurer of Drury Lane Theatre, who told him that in all probability he could obtain an engagement at that house, with a salary of £15 per week. “No,” was the reply; “I will never again set my foot on a London stage, until I command my own terms of £50.” “Then,” answered Mr Dunn, shaking him vehemently by the hand, “Good bye, my dear boy; for I shall never see you act again in London.”
New York Public Library, New York
In the great towns of the sister kingdom and in the provinces his genius was speedily acknowledged. At Edinburgh alone, where he played Hamlet, for twelve nights, he gained £1200 in four weeks; and at Dublin, Manchester, Liverpool, Birmingham, Brighton, Plymouth, Exeter, &c., he successively became an object of universal admiration. Waterford, it should be observed, was the place of his birth; and the Irish were especially prominent in doing honor to their young countryman. At the city of Waterford a public dinner was given to him, and he was presented with a silver claret jug worth £100. At the end of 1837 the summit of his ambition was at length attained. The manager of Drury Lane Theatre offered him an engagement of twenty nights, at £50 per night, and Mr Dunn, the prophet of evil, was the very man to pay it. On the 8th January, 1838, he appeared in his great character of Hamlet. To this point the history has been one of struggles and aspirations, henceforth we have only to chronicle an uninterrupted series of victories. The 8th of January, 1838, was a day destined long to hold a place in the theatrical calendar. The Hamlet of Mr Charles Kean, played before a crowded and expectant audience, proved triumphantly successful, and the great tragedian might rest assured that hence forward the public would be in his grasp. The Times newspaper of that day pronounced the representation to be “an elegant and intellectual performance.” Charles Kean's Hamlet is a performance which now every English gentleman is supposed to have seen as a matter of course, and the reappearance of that great actor in that prominent character is always regarded in London as a sort of theatrical festival. Hamlet was followed by Richard III; Richard by Sir Giles Overreach.
Charles Kean as Richard III (c.1839), published by John Tallis & Co. (after Reid engraving)
National Portrait Gallery, London
Charles Kean as Sir Giles Overreach in A New Way to Pay Old Debts, by Samuel John Stump (c.1838)
National Portrait Gallery, London
The engagement for twenty nights was extended to forty three, and, in its course, upwards of £13,000 was received by the manager. A public dinner, which was given in the saloon of the theatre, under the presidency of the Earl of Carlisle, and at which an elegant vase, worth £200, was presented to Mr Charles Kean, was the supplementary honor to this great triumph. There is a curious fact related by Alfred Bunn in his History of the Stage, that the receipts during Mr Charles Kean's engagement at Drury Lane, in the winter of 1838, after making an allowance for the difference of prices, were, within a fraction, equal to those received in 1814, for the same number of nights, when his gifted father first appeared at the same theatre.
It was on the 29th of January, 1842, that the marriage of Mr Charles Kean and Miss Ellen Tree took place at Dublin, where the accomplished pair had just completed an engagement. Of all the steps in the great tragedian's life this was the wisest and the most fortunate. Miss Ellen Tree was at the head of her profession both in tragedy and high comedy. She had frequently been associated with him in his career to eminence, and was one of the performers in Othello, on that memorable night when the elder Kean may almost be said to have died on the stage. In the last year at the Haymarket, prior to the Dublin engagement, she had played Juliet to Charles Kean’s Romeo for more than twenty successive nights. Something like a destiny seemed to promote the union of Charles Kean and Ellen Tree, and, if such were the case, this destiny was certainly most beneficent. Of the invaluable aid that Mrs Kean has afforded her husband, as the leading actress in most of his plays, and as his chief assistant in the arduous management of the Princess's Theatre, all London is aware. More than that, the domestic happiness of this gifted couple is known to the best circles throughout the United Kingdom, and the social position of Mr and Mrs Charles Kean is as universally recognised as their pre-eminence in the highest class of drama. An engagement at the Haymarket in the summer of 1842, an engagement at Drury Lane in the following winter, a provincial tour, and a visit to America, brings us to the middle of 1847, when the second act of our drama may be said to close, leaving Charles Kean a husband and a father.
When in January, 1848, they re-appeared at the Haymarket, after an absence from London of four years, they found a public ready to receive them with acclamation. The first piece they appeared in was Mr Lovell's play, The Wife's Secret, which drew crowded houses for no less than thirty-six nights. In December, 1848, commenced an important epoch in the history of the stage. Ever since the accession of her present Majesty to the throne the English theatres have been greatly patronised by royalty; but this was not the case during the interval that separates the present reign from that of George III. Both George IV and William IV were advanced in years when they assumed the diadem, and were neither of them expected to be present at any place of public amusement. Queen Victoria not only paid Mr and Mrs Charles Kean the extraordinary compliment of being present at their benefit on the 3rd of July, 1848, when The Wife's Secret was played for the thirty-seventh time, but she appointed him her director of the private theatrical performances at Windsor Castle. Such a marked sanction of theatrical art by Royalty had not been known for many years, and there is no doubt that the Windsor performances were of incalculable use in banishing the prejudice which had long been entertained against the theatrical profession, in spite of the many illustrious names with which it was associated. Fanatics could not denounce as impious an amusement fostered by the most virtuous court mentioned in the pages of history. At the conclusion of the first season of the Windsor theatricals her Majesty honored Mr Charles Kean with a personal interview, and afterwards presented him with a diamond ring. For ten years he held this high and honorable office—for ten years did he reap a harvest of golden opinions among the good and great whom the Windsor festivities attracted to the home of Royalty.
Julius Caesar performed at Windsor Castle in 1850
The mother of Mr Charles Kean is too interesting a personage in his biography for her death to be passed over without record. During the latter period of her life she had resided at Keydell, a pleasant retreat in Hampshire, which Mr Kean had purchased shortly after his marriage as a place of occasional retirement from the toils and troubles of his vocation. She died in March, 1849, and as he always thought of her while living, so did he honor her when life was no more. A handsome tomb in the churchyard of Catherington, near Keydell, records her last resting place.
The importance of the event we are now about to record, and which opens another act in our biographical drama, can scarcely be appreciated by anyone who is not exactly acquainted with the state of the London stage in 1850. The two large theatres patented for the encouragement of dramatic literature and art had for many years been constantly perverted from the high uses for which they had been erected, and their exclusive privileges had been virtually cancelled. Covent Garden, the home of the Kembles, was, as it is now, an Italian Opera House; Drury Lane, the home of Garrick and Edmund Kean, was sometimes an opera, sometimes a playhouse, sometimes an equestrian circus—as chance directed. The small theatre in the Haymarket, though occasionally used for the performance of tragedy, as we have seen in the course of the present biography, is essentially a house for prose comedy. Thus, in 1850, there was literally no edifice devoted to the performance of the poetical drama, save in a remote suburb ignored by the fashionable classes. In becoming a manager, Mr Charles Kean had really to do the work of a colonist. He was in the land of Shakespeare, in the country which especially boasts of its dramatic literature, but in the capital of which the drama—was not. Had he consulted no interest but his own, Mr Charles Kean might have let things remain just as they were, satisfied that all the managers of the United Kingdom would gladly throw open their doors at the approach of the great tragedian, and that, granting the duration of health and strength, he might go on fulfilling star engagements to his life's end, and thus realise a princely fortune without responsibility or care. The notion that the stage is a mere source of frivolous amusement, never crossed the mind of Charles Kean, industriously as it is promulgated, not only by the enemies of the theatre, but by the great body of modern dramatists. To use the Duke of Newcastle's words, spoken at the great “Kean banquet” of 1859, he is “one whose zeal in his profession, amounting almost to enthusiasm, has led him to prove that the theatre may be made not merely the vehicle for frivolous amusement, or, what is worse, for dissipation, but that it may be erected into a gigantic instrument of education for the instruction of the young and for the edification as well as amusement of those of maturer age.”
During one of his visits to America, and in the course of an engagement at the Haymarket, he had already shown a great desire to become a reformer of costume and other details of stage representation, but it was not until he had a theatre of his own that he could prove himself to be, in the words of the Duke's speech, “one of the greatest archaeologists of the day, making the stage not only a vehicle for dramatic poetry, but a school of history.”
Princess's Theatre, Oxford Street, London (1851)
The period of Mr Kean's management of the Princess's Theatre commenced towards the end of 1850. The first plays produced were Hamlet and Twelfth Night; but not until early in 1852 began that series of “revivals,” the fame of which has been spread over the whole civilised world. From this time every season was marked by the revival of some great play, which riveted the attention of every class in London, and attracted visitors from the remotest provinces of England, and even from the Continent. We need not remind our readers circumstantially of all that has been done for the higher drama by Mr Charles Kean, but we will briefly state that the great plays successively presented to the public were: King John, Macbeth, Byron's Sardanapalus, Casimir Delavigne's Louis XI, Henry VIII, The Winter's Tale, Midsummer Night's Dream, Richard II, The Tempest, King Lear, Henry V, and The Merchant of Venice. Every one of these pieces was put upon the stage with the strictest regard to accuracy of detail, so that when the list was completed, the public had really gone through a long course of antiquarian instruction, by which it had been made familiar with the architecture, costumes, and habits of classic Greece, mediaeval England, ancient Assyria, and other seats of old and new civilisation. Most of the “revivals” are remarkable for the gorgeousness of their accessories, but really gorgeousness was the least of their merits; not to dazzle, but to enlighten, was the purpose of Charles Kean. A writer in the Art Journal, the principal periodical of its class, thus speaks in reference to one of the great “revivals,” and to Mr Kean's honest declaration that “accuracy, not show, had been his object.” This is true to an extent that not one man of the thousands that crowded his theatre can entirely appreciate. Many hundreds would have been as well satisfied to have seen real armour of one fashion as of another. It is Mr Kean's merit to despise no minutiae which can give vitality to the scene; and the antiquary who would go simply to judge his work by his own branch of study, would feel that each portion of the appointments of the drama had been correctly cared for. Mr Charles Kean, however, had far too artistic a mind to confound the importance of the principal figures and the accessories in a work of art. It was as an actor that he had acquired the means which enabled him to become an archaeological instructor, and the genius proper to his original vocation was always in the foreground. Nay, it is worthy of remark that Louis XI, the piece which was brought out with less decoration than any placed on the above list, was at once hailed as a theatrical miracle, on account of his acting alone, and still remains one of the most attractive works associated with his name. Had he been less ardent in the diffusion of knowledge, had he been content to rely only on the histrionic talent of himself and his wife, using only such accessories as were consistent with the most rigid spirit of economy, there is no doubt that his management of the Princess's Theatre would have been a much more profitable speculation than was actually the case, for no receipts, however large, could more than slightly exceed his princely expenditure. Since their retirement from the management of the Princess's Theatre, Mr and Mrs C. Kean have stood alone in their histrionic grandeur, without the aid of a highly-finished background; and the great plays, quietly acted, draw multitudes wherever they go.
Charles Kean as Leontes and Ellen Terry as Mamillius in The Winter's Tale by Martin Laroche (William Henry Silvester) 26 April 1856
National Portrait Gallery, London
Ellen Kean as Hermione in The Winter's Tale, Princess's Theatre, 1856
Victoria & Albert Museum, London
Ellen Kean as the Queen and Drinkwater Meadows as the Gardener in Richard II, Princess's Theatre, 1857
Victoria & Albert Museum, London
Charles Kean as Louis XI by Richard James Lane, c.1850s
National Portrait Gallery, London
Hamlet, Othello, Macbeth, The Merchant of Venice, Louis XI, Much Ado About Nothing, The Wife's Secret, and The Gamester, played at any house in the United Kingdom, are sure to attract crowds when “the Keans” play the principal characters. To use a happy metaphor employed by the Saturday Review in alluding to the high class of drama—“the intellectual world and the stage of London are connected by a drawbridge, which can only be worked by Charles Kean. When he is out of town the drawbridge is up; when he returns, it is down, at once to be crossed by thousands.” The Morning Post— the organ of the fashionable world— thus took leave of Mr Kean, on the occasion of his farewell performance previous to his departure for Australia:—
“The farewell benefit of Mr and Mrs Charles Kean at this theatre last night attracted a crowded audience, by whom both artistes were received with enthusiastic applause. The entertainments consisted of the second and third acts of 'Henry VIII,' and the comedy of 'The Jealous Wife.' The performances of Mr Kean as Cardinal Wolsey and Mr Oakley, and those of Mrs Kean as Queen Katherine and Mrs Oakley, are so well known to all lovers of true histrionic acting that it would be perfectly superfluous to speak of them critically on this occasion. Suffice it that neither the lady nor the gentleman ever played with more artistic power and effect, or called forth more convincing proofs of the high esteem in which they are held, than on the closing night of their farewell engagement. At the termination of the third act of 'Henry VIII' Mr Kean came forward and spoke as follows:—
“Ladies and Gentlemen, —Were I not on the eve of a voyage to a far distant land I would not venture to intrude upon you any words of mine; but I cannot leave without expressing, in Mrs Kean's name and my own, the profound gratification we feel at the manifestations of your good opinion and generous sympathy, as evinced by the crowded audiences that have assembled within this theatre during our engagement. The remembrance of your kindly feeling will be a solace and comfort to us both throughout our wanderings. The very flattering and encouraging invitations we have received induce us to visit a young and rising country, where we shall meet a kindred race possessing the same love and reverence for Shakespeare as we feel at home. Did I suppose that this was our last appearance on the London stage, it would indeed be to us a most painful separation; but I trust that, with the blessing of Providence, we may be back in about twelve months, and close our theatrical career amongst our friends in England. In the hope, therefore, that this will be but a temporary absence, I now respectfully and gratefully bid you farewell.”
To lose the services of a man of highly cultivated mind and refined taste, who has studied our noble drama with the devotion of a lover, and applied all the energies and powers of a clear and vigorous intellect to the development of Shakespeare's countless beauties—to be deprived of the only tragedian of our day who can fitly and adequately impersonate such glorious parts as Hamlet, Shylock, and The Moor, is indeed a source of profound regret to all who are capable of appreciating the transcendant genius of Shakespeare, and we would willingly add Wolsey, King Lear and Macbeth if our space permitted even a slight analysis of his fine impersonation of those characters. Nor is it in tragedy alone that Mr Kean excels. In high comedy he is charming. His Benedick is admirable, while his Mephistopheles is one of the finest pieces of comic acting that was ever witnessed. There is a piquancy in its humor, an archness in its devilry, a slyness in its raillery that makes the demon a really delightful fellow! But there is another character which does not belong precisely either to tragedy or comedy, but partakes of the nature of both—we allude to Louis XI, in the play of that name. There is little in itself to attract an audience, and yet it has drawn crowded houses more frequently and brought down more rapturous applause during the last ten years than any play, dependent for its success upon mere acting, and that, the acting of one part, Louis XI is in himself one of the most detestable and repulsive characters that was ever made the subject of a drama—a compound of cruelty, cowardice, perfidy, hypocrisy, and superstition. The actor is thrown entirely upon his own intellectual resources, and the triumph he achieved is the more complete. In his voyage Mr Kean will be accompanied by the partner of his toils, the sharer of his triumphs, whose talents, skill, and accomplishments as an actress, have long secured her from rivalry in those dramatic parts that are associated with her name. We have spoken of Mr Kean as a master of his art—the actor who, in the midst of his popularity, and in the meridian of his powers, has been thought worthy of those honors that are usually reserved to decorate the close of a brilliant career. Eton availed herself of his retirement from the arduous post of manager, to manifest his appreciation of his genius, and her admiration of his spotless life, by the most sumptuous banquet that was ever given in honor of an actor.
Who that witnessed it can ever forget that scene, where upwards of 600 gentlemen, including Cabinet Ministers, privy councillors, and the representatives of our two great seats of learning, the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge, presided over by the Duke of Newcastle, assembled in St. James's Hall, to do honor to Charles Kean? Eton, aided by the public, presented to Mr Kean that magnificent piece, or, rather, sundry pieces, of plate, fashioned in the highest style of art, valued at 2000 guineas, where were amongst the most conspicuous objects of the late International Exhibition. These were memorials of which the highest in the realm, who had won eminence in the councils or laurels in the field, might well be proud. To Mr Kean they must be most honorable and dear, when he is assured that they are some acknowledgement of his great deserts and of the high esteem in which he is held by his countrymen.
All great men, however high their vocation, must consult, in some degree, the spirit of the age into which they are born. While the Princess's Theatre was essentially devoted to the representation of the works of the national poet—in one long season (1856-7) of 290 nights not less than 242 were consecrated to Shakespeare—Mr Charles Kean perceived that the public occasionally required recreation of a lighter kind, and he produced a few works of the melodramatic order such as The Corsican Brothers, Pauline, Faust and Marguerita and The Courier of Lyons. Even when he produced pieces of the least elevating class, Mr Charles Kean was at pains not to vitiate, but to refine.
The Corsican Brothers, with Mr Kean as the mysterious twins, was the very best of theatrical ghost stories. Through Mr Kean's fine acting, and the perfect manner in which the drama was put upon the stage, it achieved the extraordinary run of nearly three hundred nights.
In summing up all that has been done for the stage by Mr Charles Kean, during his management of the Princess's Theatre, we may refer to the speech of his illustrious schoolfellow, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, delivered at the great Kean Banquet in 1859.
William Ewart Gladstone (c.1860s), by unknown photographer
National Portrait Gallery, London
“I can render witness to Mr Kean,” said Mr Gladstone, “as being a public benefactor. If anything could add to my individual satisfaction in rendering that witness, it would be the circumstance that I am politically connected by representation, and have for years been connected, with one of the great seats of learning and education in England. I see in our time one of those who here asserted the social brotherhood that exists between all true and genuine instruments of human cultivation. He has said truly that in the drama the greatest powers of the human mind have been exhibited. This most influential instrument which has sometimes grovelled in the mire, and which has rarely been appreciated to the full extent of its capacity, Mr Kean has devoted almost immeasurable labor to raising up to its due and natural elevation. This is the service that he has conferred upon the age.”
The banquet to which we have occasionally referred resulted in a subscription of about £2000, for a service of plate, which was presented to the distinguished performer in St. James’s Hall, March 1862, at a public meeting, presided over by Mr Gladstone, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, the centre-piece of which contains the following inscription:—
To Charles John Kean, F.S.A.,
By many fellow Etonians, together with numerous Friends and Admirers among the Public,
As a Tribute to the Genius of a Great Actor,
And in recognition of his unremitting efforts to improve the tone and elevate the character of the British Stage.
March 22, 1862.
The Illustrated Weekly News (London), 22 March 1862, p.1
“Presentation of the testimonial plate to Charles Kean at the St. James’s Hall, London, 1862” (Mander & Mitchenson Collection)
While Mr Charles Kean was on the high road towards the attainment of honors that had never before been awarded to any member of his profession, he did not forget the dictates of humanity. His early training and early struggles had opened his heart to charity, and when his days of prosperity arrived he did not forget that he had once been poor. In the autumn of 1852, the husband of Mrs Kean's youngest sister died, leaving her a widow with eleven children utterly unprovided for. Stand forth, ye orphans, and lift your voices high in gratitude to him who took upon himself the duties of a father—to him who educated, cherished, and supported you, and gave to the world so bright an example of Christian feeling!
The reasons for Mr Kean's retirement from management were briefly expressed by himself when, on the 29th August, 1859, he took leave of the London public in his managerial character:— “I need not deny,” he said, “that I have had no gains, in a commercial sense. More restricted notions and a more parsimonious outlay might, perhaps, have led to a very different result; but I could not be induced by such considerations to check my desire to do what I considered right, and what would, in my opinion, advance the best interests of my profession. Whatever loss I have sustained is amply compensated by the praise you have bestowed on my efforts. Mind and body require rest after such active exercise for nine years, and it could not be a matter of surprise if I sank under a continuance of the combined duties of actor and manager of a theatre where everything has grown into such gigantic proportions. Indeed, I should long since have succumbed had I not been sustained and seconded by the indomitable energy and devoted affection of my wife. You have only seen her in the fulfilment of her professional pursuits, and are therefore unable to estimate the value of her assistance and counsel. She was ever by my side in the hour of need, ready to revive my drooping spirits and to stimulate me to fresh exertions.”
Though relieved from the responsibility and toils of management Mr and Mrs Kean have rested but little. Constantly fulfilling provincial engagements, which have compelled them to visit nearly all the great towns in the Three Kingdoms and paying at least once a year a visit to London, where they are always expected with eagerness and welcomed with delight. Thus they continue their useful toil, while everybody marvels at their never-failing energy and vigour. While they remained at the Princess's Theatre, during the season of last year, they played Henry VIII for no less than eighty nights, without interruption. In the olden time this dramatic “history" was not one of the most attractive of Shakespeare's works; but the characters of the Cardinal and the Queen are so well adapted to Mr and Mrs Charles Kean, that the piece is now as universally popular as Hamlet or Othello.
The farewell engagement at the Princess's this year, occupying the first half of May, was the cause of an immense excitement. The feeling with which this was generally regarded cannot better be expressed than in the words of that most particular and intellectual of journals, the Saturday Review:— “When our great tragedian simply retired to the provinces, he did not altogether slip out of sight. We always heard how he was going on, and his return to London for a few weeks always seemed to be an event within the range of possibility. But when Mr Charles Kean is at Melbourne or Sydney, when a waste of water separates him from the British islands, the drawbridge is raised with a vengeance, and the chains that keep it up are secured with the strongest staples. Nothing will be left to remind the public of the higher uses for which a theatre can be employed. Prose dramas of the light kind, whether serious or comic, will alone be presented. Plays will be looked upon as amusements with which the intellect has little or nothing to do—that is to say, if they are fortunate, for it is possible they may not be considered amusing at all. And this is the state of things that could not have been contemplated sixty years ago. The colonists, who seem to have that practical veneration for Shakespeare which is proper in vigorous youth, and which is so palpably distinct from the studious literary veneration so prevalent in the old country, seem hitherto to have bestowed the most liberal patronage on the histrionic interpreters of the great poet. But as yet they have rather nurtured unknown talent into celebrity than paid a tribute to acknowledged worth. In fact, they have not seen an actor to whom the voice of the London public would assign the highest rank in his profession. If the theatrical history of Australia is ever written, the epoch-making event will be the arrival of Mr and Mrs Kean.”
Their performance during the winter engagement, and the circumstances of their farewell, suggested the following reflections in the Times:— “Mr and Mrs Kean will visit the Australian colonies as the representatives of that higher class of drama which once remained among us as a permanent inheritance derived from the great master of English poetry, but which seems fast slipping away from the boards of our theatres to find its only abode on the tables—we do not say the shelves—of our libraries. It is, therefore, satisfactory to report that they take their leave in excellent condition, and they will not bring to their new public the mere shadow of a name, to which a living substance is no longer attached. Though their farewell engagement has only lasted eleven nights, the characters they have represented have been various as well as great, and every one of them has been marked as much by freshness and vigor as by the finish which long experience can alone attain. Every play called to remembrance some new quality, and the last piece we had occasion to notice, the 'Merchant of Venice,' remarkable as much for the quick irritability, strong rage, and deep pathos of Shylock, as for the graciousness and dignity blended in the nature of Portia, was a fitting pendant to the more complicated expression of thought and feeling proper to Hamlet. The necessity of fulfilling a provincial engagement has shortened the stay of Mr and Mrs Kean in the capital, but there is no doubt that if it lasted much—very much longer, it would have proved highly advantageous to the admirable artistes themselves, and greatly increased the gratification of the London public. It is universally felt that by their departure the stage is deprived of the support of its chief artistes at a time when they can be ill spared, and that, unless some unforeseen contingency arises, the poetical drama— the drama in which the highest histrionic eminence is alone attainable—will for at least a twelve-month be in abeyance.”
Mr Charles Kean is a man of that exalted genius, and of that nobility of character, that he could well afford to be the Rodolph of his house. Nevertheless, those who take interest in pedigrees may peruse with pleasure the following extract from Lord Macaulay's History of England, in which reference is made to George Saville, Marquis of Halifax:— “He (the Marquis) left a natural son, Henry Carey, whose dramas once drew crowded audiences to the theatre, and some of whose gay and spirited verses still live in the memory of hundreds of thousands. From this Henry Carey descended that Edmund Kean who in his time has transformed himself so marvellously into Shylock, lago, Othello.” The poem which Lord Macaulay, most probably, had particularly in mind, was the charming and once popular song, “Sally in our Alley,” of which Henry Carey was the author. Still greater were his claims to immortality as the supposed writer and composer of “God Save the King.” Strange, that the upholder of the National Drama should be a lineal descendant of the author of the National Anthem.
We will conclude this biographical sketch by quoting the words of an author who for a long period held a high judicial position in Sydney, and whose name is well known and universally respected in that distant portion of the empire:— “The Australian Colonies are now on the eve of a visit from artistes of first-rate distinction. They will soon be afforded an opportunity of witnessing the highest specimens of dramatic skill and cultivated genius that the English stage affords, in the performances of Mr and Mrs Charles Kean, who leave for Australia in the early part of the present year (1863) to fulfil engagements in the principal theatres of Australia.”
The Age (Melbourne), Saturday 12 September 1863, p.7
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Haymarket Theatre, Bourke Street, Melbourne c.1860s. Australian Performing Arts Collection, Arts Centre Melbourne.
Following their arrival in Hobson's Bay aboard the Champion of the Seas (after a voyage of 78 days out of Liverpool), on 24 September 1863, the Keans were welcomed to Melbourne by the local representatives of the theatrical profession a week later, as reported in the daily press.
PROFESSIONAL RECEPTION OF MR. AND MRS. CHARLES KEAN.
At noon on Wednesday, the companies of the Haymarket and Princess's Theatres met on the boards of the former, to give a professional greeting to Mr and Mrs Kean. The ladies and gentlemen of both companies were in attendance, and were individually presented by Mr R. Younge to the distinguished visitors. This introduction being effected, Mr Coppin came forward, and addressing Mr and Mrs Kean said:— “The ladies and gentlemen of the Haymarket and Princess's companies are anxious to congratulate you on your safe arrival, and, with that view, Mr Younge will read the address they wish to present.”
Mr R. Younge then read the following address:—
“To Charles John Kean, Esq., F.S.A.—Dear Sir,—We, the undersigned, members of the dramatic profession of Melbourne, desire to offer to you our warm congratulations on your safe arrival amongst us; and to bid yourself and your amiable and gifted partner a hearty welcome to our shores. Great as is the distance which divides this from the mother country, and young as are the aspirations of our fellow colonists after an elevated condition of the humanising art of which you are so distinguished an ornament, we are, nevertheless, fully alive to the great advances which that art owes to your endeavors and to the giant strides by which you have moved onward towards the accomplishment of a pure and noble purpose—that of conveying to the minds of a great people the mighty thoughts of England's greatest poet, in their most idealised and grandest form. It would be superfluous, if not presumptuous, on our part, to attempt to add our mead of approbation to that you have already received from the whole of Europe. But it may be gratifying to you to know that in this far-off land the echo of your praises has reverberated, the value of your efforts has been fully felt, and the greatness of your endeavors well and truly known. We hail your landing in Australia as an advent of even a better condition for the drama than it has hitherto known. Though we can with conscious, and not reprehensible pride, point to the rapid bounds towards social and intellectual advancement which our colony has made during the brief period of her existence; and, in our appreciation of, and reverence for the works of our divine Shakespeare, can recall the significant fact that, out of his 36 established plays, no less than 29 have already been performed in the various theatres of the colony, yet we are fully sensible of the importance we have derived by receiving amongst us one whose expositions of his masterly creations have gained the critical and universal admiration of the most gifted minds in the most gifted nation in the world. Less than thirty years ago the unlettered savage walked in solemn dignity in his native wilds upon the very spot where now flourishes an elegant and populous city, in which no less than eight temples to the dramatic art have successfully arisen, and in which we now welcome the greatest living exponent of the greatest of all poets to the land where the kangaroo and emu but late held an undisputed sway. The poetry which was then breathed by the voice of nature through primeval forests, and whispered through the trembling foliage prophecies of the brighter days to come, now mingles with the grander eloquence of those utterances which stir men's hearts and render them alive to the deepest and most endearing duration. In this new-born metropolis, the liberal arts are beginning to find a fostering and permanent home, and we have the fullest confidence that, urged onwards by your example, and acted upon by your influence, the day is not far distant when the stage of this country will be pointed at by other nations as a model of that excellence it should ever strive to reach, and will assume that place among the powerful teachers of a people which is accorded to it by all enlightened minds in advanced systems of society. To you then, sir, and to your beloved wife, whose name throughout the world has ever been the synonym of the most exalted genius, and the most irreproachable fame, and who, to use your own words, has been ever by your side in the hour of need, ready to revive your drooping spirits and to stimulate you to fresh exertions. We again present our heartfelt and cordial welcome; and, with the fervent hope that your stay amongst us may be extended over a considerable period, during which time you may both, in every way fully enjoy your visit, permit us to subscribe ourselves, with the most respectful regard for yourself and Mrs Kean, your faithful servants and sincere admirers. Signed by R. W. Younge, and above forty members of the Haymarket and Princess Theatres.”
Richard "Dick" Younge, c.1860s
Australian Performing Arts Collection, Arts Centre Melbourne
The Keans with their actress niece, Miss Patty Chapman (1863) by Mathew Brady
National Library of Australia, Canberra
To this Mr Kean replied as follows:—
“Ladies and Gentlemen,—In Mrs Kean's name and my own, allow me to thank you most sincerely for the kind and gratifying address with which you have honored us. Such a mark of your good opinion and esteem, would, at any time, be to us a source of infinite pleasure; but, to me, this day, it possesses a peculiar interest, being the anniversary of my coming upon the stage. When I first appeared upon the boards of Drury Lane Theatre, a friendless boy, Melbourne had no existence. In the wilderness, as you have just remarked, where the kangaroo and emu then sported, has arisen this prosperous and enlightened city; and the youth, who, on that day, trembled with the contending emotions of hope and fear, now looks back on long years of active service, while he receives, with honest pride, the congratulations and welcome of his professional brethren in this brave, new land, that has such wonders in it. I am truly happy to meet on this side of our globe, the able exponents of the greatest of all dramatic poets, and to know that temples dedicated to his marvellous genius, have sprung from the earth on this spot as if struck by the magician's wand. Wherein may be heard the noblest and most sublime sentiments and thoughts that enrich the English language, delivered by worthy interpreters of the wisdom and philosophy of Shakespeare. Deeply do I regret our utter inability to comply with your very flattering wish that we should prolong our stay in the colonies beyond the proposed period. To gratify a long-cherished desire to see Australia before our final retirement from public life, obliges us to confine our visit to a simple welcome and farewell. Within six months we must be again upon the ocean, retracing our way to England, there to conclude our professional career. But even were it otherwise, an only child at home—a daughter, demands a mother's care. Once again, ladies and gentlemen, I beg you to accept the warmest and heartfelt thanks of Mrs Kean and myself.”
Ellen Kean (c.1863) by Horatio Nelson King
National Portrait Gallery, London
Charles Kean (c.1863) by Horatio Nelson King
National Portrait Gallery, London
The rehearsal of The Gamester then commenced, which will be the first of the series of performances in which Mr and Mrs Kean, with their companions, Miss Chapman and Messrs Everett and Cathcart, will appear.
The Leader (Melbourne), Saturday 3 October 1863, p.4
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Scenes from Charles Kean's productions at the Princess's Theatre, London in the 1850s (as pictured in The Illustrated London News)
