‘A spirit of inquiry is the greatest characteristic of the age we live in.’ – Paul Pry
As a low comedian, George Coppin (1819–1906) was able to get under the skin of his characters and present a life-like representation of the many scoundrels, dodgers, and simpletons that he performed during his long career on the colonial stage. Of these characters, Paul Pry, the titular role in John Poole’s 1825 comedy, stands out as one Coppin’s greatest and most popular creations, from his arrival in Sydney in 1843 to his final retirement from the stage in the early 1880s.
For forty years, Coppin was identified with the role in Australia, and the longevity of the piece was entirely due to his skilful interpretation of the village busybody. From the 1850s, the impromptu curtain speeches at the end of the play became something of an institution, affording Coppin as his alter ego, Pry, the opportunity to satirically comment on current affairs.
When John Poole’s three act comedy Paul Pry was given its first performance at the Theatre Royal, Haymarket in London on 13 September 1825, it became an instant hit for actor John Liston.1 As Paul Pry, the chronic meddler, who sticks his nose into everybody’s affairs, Liston’s creation was an immense success, spawning numerous sequels2 and beginning a lucrative Paul Pry industry of memorabilia and advertising.3
Like the Trilby4 phenomenon sixty years later, there were soon taverns, racehorses, schooners and newspapers named after Poole’s eponymous character. In addition, the proliferation of etchings, figurines and tableware, depicting Liston’s image as Paul Pry, dressed in tailcoat, striped pantaloons, high boots, top hat, and foppish cravat, holding a furled umbrella, ensured that Liston’s depiction of the character remained the standard, at least in dress, for nearly 100 years.
Liston continued to revive the character intermittently over the following decade. However, other comedians played the role from the 1830s, with varied success, their performances invariably being compared to that of Liston’s.
Pry’s umbrella played a key role in the play. He was constantly leaving it behind—a ploy that afforded him the opportunity to return unexpectedly. His phrase ‘I hope I don’t intrude’ became his calling card, providing huge merriment for audiences. And at the end of the play, after the fall of the curtain, Liston would return, in search of his lost umbrella, the cue for an ‘off the cuff’ curtain speech, usually thanking the audience for coming and inviting them to the following night’s performance.
In England, notable Prys included John Reeve, John Pritt Harley, David Rees, Edward Wright, J.L. Toole, John Sleeper Clake, Lionel Brough and Edward Terry.5
The play also enjoyed considerable success in America and Australia. Though there were numerous outstanding Prys in America—Thomas Hilson, James H. Hackett. William E. Burton, William Warren and John Brougham6—in Australia, there was just one—George Coppin.
In Australia, the comedy had been performed a handful of times during the 1830s—notably by Joseph Simmons in 18357—but it was not until September 1843, when George Coppin played the role for the first time in Sydney, that the character established itself as a popular favourite with audiences. By the end of the decade theatregoers in Tasmania, South Australia and Victoria also had the chance to see Coppin in the role.
Coppin’s connection with the play can be traced back to 1827, when he and his family were members of Joseph Smedley’s Yorkshire-based touring company. The Coppin Collection at the State Library Victoria (SLV) has playbills showing Paul Pry being performed at Bridlington-Quay on 15 September 1827 and at Driffield on 8 October 1827, featuring Joseph Smedley as Pry with Coppin’s parents in supporting roles.8 An earlier advertised performance at the new theatre at Sleaford on 18 April 1827 also had members of Smedley’s company performing the play.9
By the close of 1827, the Coppin family had parted with Smedley and joined Ted Crook’s Sunderland company. Though no performances of Paul Pry seem to have been given at this time, Crook’s enthusiasm for employing ‘star’ actors, meant that Coppin and his family had the opportunity to work with some of the greatest actors of the era, from Madame Vestris and Ellen Tree to William Macready, Henry Kemble and John Pritt Harley. A connection with Paul Pry may be made with Madame Vestris and John Harley. Vestris performed in the original Haymarket production, playing the character Phoebe (the lady’s maid) and introducing the popular song ‘Cherry Ripe’; while the low comedian John Harley, who had also been a member of Liston’s company in 1825, would go on to perform Pry at the Haymarket on 20 June 1831 and on tour.
Due to the nonpayment of wages, the Coppin family left Crook’s company after a year, with Coppin Senior making the decision to go into management for himself. Over the next five years, the Coppin family formed their own circuit company, touring the market towns of Thorley, Holbeach, Holt, Aylsham and Wymondham, with a large repertoire of comedies and farces, including Paul Pry.
Playbills in the SLV Coppin Collection record performances of Paul Pry at Aylsham in 1829 and Holt in 1831. At Aylsham, it was performed for the Benefit of Miss Foster and Mrs Church on 29 September 1829, along with Sweethearts and Wives, with the role of Pry played by Coppin Senior. At the Theatre, Holt, on 16 April 1831, Mr Lockwood played the title role, with Coppin Senior as Grasp, and Coppin’s sister Emma as Eliza.
Curiously there is no playbill at the SLV recording Coppin’s first appearance as Pry, but as Coppin later recalled in his unpublished memoirs, ‘My father obtained a copy and drilled me well into the part which continued to remain my leading and most successful character from the time I was ten years old up to my farewell of the stage on 19th December 1881.’10 Though Coppin’s early performances as Pry are not documented, it is certain that he did play the role in 1841, at his Benefit at The Theatre, Nottingham, earning a good review.11
During his time with the family company, Coppin would have become fluent in all the key farces of the day, observing his father in many of the signature low comedy roles, and having the opportunity to play some of them himself. As he remembered:
It was fortunate we had received exceptional instruction and experience in a company that strictly carried out the original business of each production. I was capable of doing everything connected with the Theatre, including its fitting up in each town, cleaning the lamps, delivering the bills, prompt, stage manage, lead the orchestra and play second low comedy parts.12
Coppin was meant to be a low comedian. His general appearance, which was short and stout, with pliable facial features, determined the type of character he would perform. A fast learner, his early training assured that his delivery and timing was spot on. He could sing, dance and play the fiddle, and when required, perform pratfalls and tumbles with ease.
Alongside the tragedian, the low comedian was one of the most important positions in a company, playing ‘leading comic parts of a broad, farcical, or clownish type, together with minor roles in tragedy’.13 The main job of the low comedian was to make people laugh, and like the Elizabethan clown, from whom he is descended, a really accomplished low comedian combined humour and pathos. As a keen observer of human nature, he was able to ‘hold the mirror up to nature’ and by reflecting its virtues and vices, help people to understand themselves and their society more clearly.
In late 1881, when Coppin commenced a round of engagements to mark his retirement from the stage, after almost forty years in Australia, a limited-edition portfolio of photographs was produced, featuring him in his most famous roles. The album of eight cabinet photographs, including one of Coppin as himself, taken by E.C. Waddington & Co., Melbourne, included the characters of Paul Pry (Paul Pry), Putzi (The Young King), Daniel White (Milky White), Crack (The Turnpike Gate), Chrysos (Pygmalion and Galatea), and Mould (Not Such a Fool as He Looks). Each role was represented by a single photo, except for Paul Pry, which had two photos.
In 1906, asked to record his impressions of Coppin, retired Age theatre critic James Smith observed:
Rarely has an actor succeeded so well in presenting the ponderous stolidity and impenetrable stupidity of certain types of humanity, which are so exasperating in real life, and which are so immensely diverting on the stage, as Mr. Coppin did. The obtuseness to ridicule, the serene self-complacency, the sublime unconsciousness of their own ignorance, obtrusive vulgarity and innate boorishness by which such persons are actuated in their intercourse with others, were portrayed with lifelike fidelity; and the voice, the gait, the movements, the expression of the actor’s features were all in perfect harmony with the mental and moral characteristics and idiosyncrasies of the person he represented, so that the man himself stood before you in living reality.14
Descriptions of Coppin’s performance as Paul Pry suggest that his approach was ‘Listonian’. It is unlikely that he would have seen Liston in action, but under his father’s strict guidance, he was drilled in the ‘original business’. He may even have had the opportunity to observe touring actors from London who played the role in the manner of Liston.
Writing at the time of Coppin’s 1881 farewell to the stage a commentator in the Weekly Times (Melbourne), signing himself ADAGIO, offered an important insight:
Those present at Saturday’s performance who are old enough to remember the London print shops of forty [sic] years ago cannot fail to recollect the coloured portraits of the celebrated Liston as Paul Pry, which at that period scarcely any printseller’s window was without. To such Mr Coppin’s first appearance on the boards was almost startling. It was the familiar Liston portrait of old, animated into life. There were the same cut-off coat, the light blue striped continuations tucked into the Wellington boots, the broad-brimmed hat, the double eye-glass, and, of course, the umbrella; and as the traditional Paul stood bowing his acknowledgments, and surveying his delighted auditory through the double eye-glass with an unctuous leer, the theatre rang again with the laughter and applauding warmth of the reception. Mr Coppin’s Paul Pry has been played too often, and is too well-known, to need detailed criticism. It will be sufficient to say that even in his prime, he never played better. Forty years ago David Rees’s15 Paul Pry, at the London Haymarket, used to be considered the nearest approach to Liston possible, but it is open to question whether Rees’s impersonation, good as it undoubtedly was, is not excelled by that of Mr. Coppin.16
It is worth quoting this passage at length as personal reminiscences are gold-dust. They demonstrate the importance, even now, of capturing eyewitness accounts of actors and theatregoers, so that future generations may better understand the methods and motivations of performers of the past.
During the nineteenth century, key characters in the low comedy repertoire followed certain conventions, and for the most part they adhered to the prescribed make up and costume cues established by a role’s creator. Many of the principal low comedy roles date from the Restoration period through to the first half of the nineteenth century. From the comedies of Sheridan (The Rivals and The School for Scandal) and Goldsmith (She Stoops to Conquer) to those of Isaac Bickerstaffe (The Hypocrite), Thomas Morton (The School for Reform), James Kenney (Raising the Wind and Sweethearts and Wives) and Thomas Mayhew (The Wandering Minstrel), low comedians were often instrumental in ensuring a play’s success.
Just as etchings and lithographs (and later photographs) of actors in costume provide historians with clues about dress and staging, actors could use these character portraits to inform their interpretation. Printed playscripts also provide detailed lists of costumes and props, in addition to the words, stage directions, and stage business.
It is hard to pinpoint the exact publication date of John Poole’s play text. Many contemporary sources list J. Duncombe & Co.’s 1825 London edition of Paul Pry as the first. No author is given, and although the frontispiece features a portrait of Liston as Pry, closer scrutiny shows that it is not Poole’s play, but one written by Douglas Jerrold!17
There were several editions of Poole’s Paul Pry published in New York: E.M. Morden in 1827,18 Edwin B. Clayton in c.183319 and Samuel French (French’s Standard Drama, No. 76) in the 1850s.20 It seems to have entered the catalogues of the London-based publishers T.H. Lacy’s (Lacy’s Acting Edition, No. 222)21 and Dicks’ (Standard Plays, No. 321)22 in the mid-1800s.
The Coppin Collection at the SLV contains hundreds of playscripts linked to Coppin. However, apart from a copy of the Charles Mathews’ play Paul Pry Married and Settled (1861), there is just one copy each of Paul Pry by Poole and Jerrold. The Poole playscript dates from the 1850s and seems to be a reprint of the Samuel French edition by Wm. Taylor and Co. in New York, possibly belonging to actor William Andrews (1836–1878), whose name and annotations appear throughout.23
The importance of stage tradition, especially regarding low comedy roles was crucial, not only for the actor, but also the critics and the playgoing public. By the 1870s, some critics lamented the skills of present-day actors, as noted by JAQUES (pseudonym of Melbourne-based theatre critic James Edward Nield) in the Australasian in September 1870:
Mr Coppin, like all the members of that excellent old comedy school to which he belongs, is very careful attending to the necessities of make-up in whatever part he appears, and I may incidentally regret that this branch of the art of acting is so much neglected among younger actors, who appear to rely too much upon what I presume they regard as their power of facial mobility … The face requires putting into costume just as the body does … Fancy, for example, Paul Pry with a moustache! And yet, if some members of the Melbourne company were to play Paul Pry they would do it in a moustache!24
Nield goes on to discuss Coppin’s interpretation of the character:
Mr Coppin … would regard it as unpardonable heresy to play it other than conformably with Listonian indications. … Next to having seen Liston, the best thing is to have seen Mr Coppin in it. It would be heresy to say that probably Mr Coppin’s Paul Pry is as good as Liston’s was; but if it were not heresy, I think I should say it.
Admitting that he had not seen Liston perform, Nield suggested that ‘old playgoers’ might not agree with him. Nevertheless, he asked that Coppin should be accepted on his merits, concluding with the observation that the continued popularity of Paul Pry was due to Coppin’s ‘vivid representation’.
By the 1870s John Poole’s play was beginning to be regarded as ‘old fashioned’ and ‘ill constructed’, with the antics of the central character considered the only sustaining feature.
It would also have been the case that Paul Pry’s costume, perhaps semi-fashionable in Liston’s day, comprising clothing items worn by a Regency eccentric, would by the 1840s have appeared entirely absurd. However, this predicament would not have been unique to this play but have applied to any play from the Regency period or earlier that demanded certain characters to wear prescribed outfits. Interestingly the 1850s copy of Paul Pry in the SLV Coppin Collection includes a note about the costumes:
The Costume of Paul Pry, like that of so many of the old Comedies, is generally incongruous, Colonel Hardy appearing in an old-fashioned Military Dress, and the other characters in fashionable modern costume.25
A common ploy of Coppin’s, from the 1850s onwards, was to step before the curtain and deliver a speech in the manner of Paul Pry, a practice first undertaken by Liston thirty years earlier.
In May 1864, while in Sydney on tour with the English actors Charles and Ellen Kean, Coppin played a short season at the Prince of Wales Theatre, presenting a triple bill that included Paul Pry, The Wandering Minstrel and To Oblige Benson. After the first piece, he was called before the curtain, and as Pry, thanked his audience and took the opportunity to discuss a few local topics, including the railways, Mrs Kean’s illness and his own reappearance:
Ladies and gentlemen, here I am. I hope you are well; I am; and very glad to see you. I have just come up from Melbourne, before taking a final leave of the colonies. I had intended to come by rail, but found the line only completed to the Murray on the other side. Now, it strikes me you ought to push your rulers a bit, and try to meet it on that side; only mind they don’t go too fast, and burst their boilers. So I happened to meet the captain of the City of Melbourne, and he said we should have a very pleasant voyage; upon which I said ‘Walker’. So I’ll say no more about those pleasures. Of course you’ve heard the news about Mrs Kean’s illness—well, she’s been very bad indeed, but from the telegram I’ve had tonight, she’s getting better, and I do hope we shall have her amongst us before long. Twenty-one years ago Mr Coppin make his first appearance before a Sydney audience, and I’ve had my eye on him ever since. He then received the same kind of reception Old Coppin has met with to-night, and I heartily thank you for both of them, and I’ll try to deserve it during the short stay I am about to make amongst you now. Allow me to say how much I am obliged to you all, and I hope to see as many friends about me every night.26
Some months later, when he was in America with the Keans, he had the opportunity to play Pry in San Francisco and in Victoria, Vancouver Island. In a letter dated 15 December 1864, he sent an account of his Victoria appearance to the Melbourne Herald:
My second night was full, but not crowded. I made them a political speech in the character of Paul Pry, pointed out a few subjects worthy of their attention, and ridiculed their procrastinations in dealing with matters of great importance. It made quite a stir in the town, and they have had meetings and songs manufactured upon the address. The enclosed extracts from the newspapers will give you an account of the affair.27
The said newspaper, the Victoria Times (23 December 1864), was quoted in another daily:
Mr George Coppin has given us low comedy—but low comedy in its highest form. It is not disparagement to Victorian intelligence to say that the house was crowded to see Mr Coppin in Paul Pry and the Wandering Minstrel. The audience, which had satiated itself with Shakespeare in a most exemplary manner for more than a week, had earned the right to enjoy the broad humors of Mr Coppin. The people laughed as they never laughed before. They laughed like schoolboys who had escaped from the serious labors of the class-room. To the Australians it was a great treat to renew their acquaintance with an old friend, and to the English it was a great surprise to find that the best low comedian of the day since the death of poor [Edward] Wright was an Australian manager. At the conclusion of the first piece Mr Coppin was called before the curtain, the audience would not let him off without a speech and the result was the best joke of the evening. In his character of Paul Pry, he gave his opinion on some colonial matters in a manner which showed that the Australians knew the value of their man when they returned the comedian to the Legislative Council. He liked the colony, the climate, and the scenery; but the farmers were to raise more produce, and Assembly to do more for education, and spend less time in debating, in Paul Pry’s opinion, and he hoped he didn’t intrude, it would be better for them all. The hearty good humor with which the densely packed crowd received his genial criticism showed that they were not averse to learn something from a visitor who had so long an experience in a larger and wealthier colony.28
Coppin’s habit of leaving his umbrella in front of the curtain at the end of the play, so that he may come back to collect it and address the audience became expected by theatregoers. His speeches, given in an ‘off-hand way, about things in general’ became part of the show.29 As an extension of the play, it afforded the audience more time with a favourite actor, more laughter, and the possibility that he may reveal something new or controversial. Many of his curtain speeches were published in full in newspapers, so that the general public could enjoy them as well. The enthusiasm for Pry was particularly strong in 1870, as evidenced by the advertisement below, and it was perhaps Coppin’s eagerness to comply with audience demand that led to some of Pry’s less circumspect observations.
During his season at the Theatre Royal in September 1870, Coppin’s Pry speeches covered a range of topics, from the new city councillors to the war in Europe. Of this first topic, Pry referred to the councillors as ‘dead heads’, suggesting that they were incompetent and only interested in the largess of office. Although the comments caused some small stir, Pry was to use the term again in late 1871, with greater consequences.
In December 1871, the Australian Dramatic, Operatic, Musical, and Equestrian Association resolved to hold a benefit, and ahead of the event, the Association, of which Coppin was the President, sent letters to numerous worthies seeking donations. Letters were received from the Archbishop of Melbourne and the Governor of Victoria (Viscount Canterbury), who both rejected the offer. The Association felt that Governor’s refusal to contribute was a slap in the face to the theatres who regularly hosted him and his suite at Command performances and the like, advising all Melbourne theatres to remove him from their free-lists.
At the Benefit on 30 December, Paul Pry made an appearance at the end of the play and the issue of ‘dead heads’ was firmly on the agenda, with the finger pointed squarely at ‘Her Majesty’s representative’ as one of the main abusers of the free list system. While the audience at the Theatre Royal laughed and applauded, others (notably the Argus) were appalled at Coppin’s lack of tact. In his defence, Coppin observed:
I took all my subjects from the daily newspapers. I said nothing but what I had read in the papers, and I think I have as much right as any pressman to criticise published remarks as Paul Pry or as George Coppin.30
The press had a field-day, especially Melbourne Punch, who published a cartoon of Coppin, dressed as Pry, arm-in-arm with the Governor. Headed ‘Cheek: or George’s next dodge’, the caption below the cartoon reads:
PAUL PRY: Hope I don't intrude. Musn’t mind me, I’m a vulgar old fellow at the best of times. Take no notice of my abuse, come to the play when you like—I'll make it all right at the door.31
The same cartoon was also issued as a carte-de-visite, a copy of which may be found in the SLV Coppin Collection.32 Whether it was circulated by Coppin or Punch, it is not clear. Either way it helped keep the issue alive for many months to come.
Coppin’s relationship with Viscount Canterbury did not improve, and when Coppin’s Theatre Royal burned to the ground in March 1872, uninsured, the Governor was not among the many well-wishers who offered support. Over the ensuing months, Coppin busied himself with the rebuilding of the Theatre Royal, and in less than a year, a magnificent new edifice rose from the ashes of the old theatre, opening on 6 November 1872.
By April 1873, Viscount Canterbury’s tenure as Governor had expired and he returned to England. But Coppin had the final word, when in December 1872, as the character of Lord Ptarmigant in the first Australian production of T.W. Robertson’s comedy Society, Coppin modelled his impersonation of the lethargic aristocratic with a penchant for snoozing on the outgoing Governor.33
Alec Bagot’s assertion in Coppin the Great, that Coppin and Viscount Canterbury made up is not correct. Citing a cartoon in Melbourne Punch, depicting the two men shaking hands, the cartoon was in fact referencing Coppin’s performance in Society, with Coppin and the Viscount wearing identical whiskers and clothing.34
Over the years, Paul Pry made further appearances, at benefits and by popular demand; with his requisite curtain speech always keenly anticipated. He even made an appearance on the cover of an 1876 guidebook to the Mornington Peninsula compiled and published by H. Cordell, referencing Coppin’s distinction as the founding father of Sorrento.
In November 1881, beginning in Melbourne, Coppin commenced a round of farewell performances that would last until November 1883. It was a chance to play many of his best loved characters for the last time. Key among them was Paul Pry, who always managed to wander before the curtain at the end of the performance to retrieve his umbrella and say a few words.
In mid-1882, having withdrawn from the management of the Theatre Royal, Coppin determined to revive his political career and obtain a seat in the Legislative Council. Announcing himself as a candidate for Melbourne Province, his running mates included Cornelius Job Ham (1837–1909), auctioneer and outgoing Melbourne Lord Mayor, and Dr James Beaney (1828–1891), a well-known Collins Street surgeon. Likening the contest to a carnival side-show, Melbourne Punch published a cartoon under the heading ‘Rival Showmen’ with Coppin depicted in the garb of Paul Pry, Dr Beaney as a circus clown and C.J. Ham an aerial trapezist. At the 30 November 1882 elections, Ham was declared the victor on 2805 votes, with Beaney on 2698, and Coppin on 2143.35 Though he was not successful, Coppin would go on to gain a seat in the Legislative Council in 1889.36
Coppin officially hung up his umbrella on 10 November 1883, playing Paul Pry for the last time at the Theatre Royal in Adelaide, as noted by the South Australian Weekly Chronicle:
The old comedian gave him to the audience with such broad humour as to make Paul Pry the source of a constant stream of merriment. The ludicrous make-up, the queer facial contortions, the low comedy of the speech and acting, all contributed to remind one of the Coppin of old, who delighted so many Adelaide audiences in former days by his cleverly comical performances. At the close of the second act Mr Coppin, on appearing before the curtain to receive a well-deserved ovation, took advantage of the occasion to utter a few opinions on South Australian matters. Naturally enough he could not refrain from allusions to the old times, and all of these were listened to with interest, whilst the cheery way in which he predicted the revival our industrial affairs after an icy period of depression led to an outburst of applause.37
As Paul Pry, Coppin stayed loyal to the tradition of the character as established by its creator John Liston. His make-up, costume and acting style remained unchanged during the fifty years that he performed the role. He used his customary curtain speech as a vehicle for commenting on society and politics—and, if needed, he was not afraid to step on a few toes. Reading his curtain speeches, it is clear, even with the distance of time, that Coppin’s heart was in the right place. He cared about society and through the guise of his alter-ego, Pry, he ‘held up the mirror’—a key characteristic of an accomplished low comedian.
Endnotes
1. John Liston (1776-1846), English low comedian of the Regency era. Paul Pry played from 13 September–15 November 1825, and much of the following 1826 season.
2. For example, Douglas Jerrold, Mr. Paul Pry; or, I Hope I Don’t Intrude, Royal Coburg Theatre, London, 10 April 1825; William Moncrieff, Paul Pry on Horseback; or, A Peep at the Election, Astley’s Royal Amphitheatre, London, 5 May 1826; and Charles Matthews, Paul Pry Married and Settled, Theatre Royal, Haymarket, 3 October 1861
3. Davis, John Liston, Chapter VI
4. Trilby was a novel published by George du Maurier in 1894 about an artist’s model in bohemian Paris who comes under the spell of Svengali. When it was adapted for the stage by Paul M. Potter the following year, it became an instant hit, with all manner of objects adopting the Trilby name from hats and shoes to ice creams and cuts of meat.
5. Mullin, p.291
6. Bordman, p.539
7. Simmons played Paul Pry on the occasion of Mrs Chester’s Benefit at the Royal Victoria Theatre, Sydney, on 29 October 1835, and again on 31 October 1835 and 16 February 1836. During the following five decades, single performances were given by John Meredith (1840s); G.H. Rogers, W.H. Stephens and infant prodigy Anna Maria Quinn (1850s); J.C. Lambert (1860s); and J.L. Toole (1890s).
8. Coppin Collection, Series 11: Playbills and programmes, State Library Victoria, Melbourne
9. Stamford Mercury, 13 April 1827, p.1
10. Transcript copy of Coppin’s autobiography, undated, p.15. MS 8827, Coppin Collection, State Library Victoria, Melbourne
11. Nottingham and Newark Mercury, 29 January 1841, p.37
12. Transcript copy of Coppin’s autobiography, undated, p.17. MS 8827, Coppin Collection, State Library Victoria, Melbourne
13. Hartnoll, p.793. Alongside the Tragedian and Low Comedian, other positions included Juvenile Lead, Old Man, Old Woman, Walking Lady, Walking Gentleman and Singing Chambermaid.
14. West Australian, 19 March 1906, p.5
15. David Rees (1794-1843), Irish comedian. He played Paul Pry in Dublin in 1837 and at the Haymarket in 1840.
16. Weekly Times (Sydney), 10 December 1881, p.18
17. This anomaly is noted by David Vincent, p.52. See copy of play via Google Books, https://books.google.com.au/books?id=7ERTAAAAcAAJ&pg=PP1#v=onepage&q&f=false
18. See copy HathiTrust, https://hdl.handle.net/2027/loc.ark:/13960/t3hx1xv86
19. See catalogue entry, National Library of Australia, https://catalogue.nla.gov.au/catalog/8530075
20. See copy Google Books, https://www.google.com.au/books/edition/Paul_Pry_etc
21. I have not been able to locate a copy of this edition. A listing of Lacy’s Acting Editions compiled by Lou Burnand comprising 1498 plays across 100 volumes, published between 1850 and 1874, includes Poole’s Paul Pry as Volume 15, No. 222.
22. See Internet Archive, https://archive.org/details/paulpryacomedyin00pooluoft/page/n1/mode/2up
23. Coppin Collection, Series 7: Playscripts, State Library Victoria, Melbourne. Sydney-born Andrews was a popular low comedian in Australia during the 1860s and 1870s. He notably played Paul Pry in Brisbane in 1867.
24. Australasian (Sydney), 17 September 1870, p.18
25. Coppin Collection, Series 7: Playscripts, State Library Victoria, Melbourne. The same comment was included in later editions, such as an 1880s reprint by Dicks’.
26. Freeman’s Journal (Sydney), 1 June 1864, p.6
27. Herald (Melbourne), 3 April 1865, p.3
28. Mercury (Hobart), 12 April 1865, p.3
29. See Age (Melbourne), 13 September 1870, p.3
30. Bagot, p.333, from the Age (Melbourne), 11 January 1872, p.3
31. Melbourne Punch, 4 January 1872, p.5
32. The catalogue entry date of ‘about 1860’ may now be amended to 1872. Coppin Collection, MS 8827, State Library Victoria, Melbourne.
33. Under the heading ‘Revenge! Ha! Ha!’, the Herald (Melbourne), 17 December 1872, p,2, called Coppin the ‘concrete chronicle of the time’, holding ‘the mirror up thoroughly’, noting that his impersonation of Lord Ptarmigant ‘eclipsed the best effort of [George] Fawcett’ who a decade earlier ‘took off’ Dr Hunter and L.L. Smith.
34. Bagot, p.333. The cartoon was published in Melbourne Punch, 2 January 1873, p.5.
35. Argus (Melbourne), 1 December 1882, p.5
36. Coppin served on the Victorian Legislative Council, 1858-1863 and 1889-1895, and on the Legislative Assembly, 1874-1877 and 1883-1888.
37. South Australian Weekly Chronicle, 10 November 1883, p,15
Bibliography
Alec Bagot, Coppin the Great, Melbourne University Press, Carlton, 1965
Gerard Bordman, The Oxford Companion to American Theatre, Oxford University Press, 1984
Frederick Burwick, A History of Romantic Literature, Wiley Blackwell, 2019
Jim Davis, John Liston, Comedian, Society for Theatre Research, 1985
Jim Davis, Comic acting and Portraiture in late-Georgian and Regency England, Oxford University Press, 2015
Phyllis Hartnoll (ed.), The Oxford Companion to the Theatre, new edition, Oxford University Press, 1983
[Douglas Jerrold], Paul Pry, J. Duncombe & Co., London, 1825
Donald Mullin, Victorian Plays: A record of significant productions of the London stage, 1837-1901, Greenwood Press, 1987
John Poole, Paul Pry, E.M. Morden, New York, 1827
John Poole, Paul Pry, E.B. Clayton, New York / Christina Neal, Philadelphia, c.1833
John Poole, Paul Pry, French’s Standard Drama, No. 76, Samuel French, New York, c.1850
John Poole, Paul Pry, Wm. Taylor and Co., New York, c.1850
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David Vincent, I Hope I Don't Intrude: Privacy and its Dilemmas in Nineteenth-Century Britain, Oxford University Press, 2014