AMONG OTHER THINGS

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 76, Issue 105, 6 May 1933, Page 18 (Supplement)

AMONG OTHER THINGS

ROBERT WILLIAM ELLISTON. ACTOR AND WIT. (By “Le Caqucteur”) Recently in Budapest an audience hissed a half-dressed actress from the stage, without allowing her to finish her act. Of course, a completed turn always results in a revolution. An amateur society talks of reviving the wartime success “A Little Bit. of Fluff,” on a large scale. Surely it must be a heavier piece than ine name implies.

Because Roland Young was named alter a pet canary, he cherishes a dislike against this species of bird. It i- ; unlikely that in view of this antipathy, audiences will abandon the old custom of presenting “birds” to actors.

There must exist some queer specimens among Oxford undergrads, Quite recently during the performance of “King John” by the 0.U.D.5., a too nice-minded young man rose and protested against the use of the word “damnation.” Shakespeare is unusually rich in (objurgation, the word in question occurring in its various forms, no fewer than one hundred and fifty-seven times. Occasionally it is used in a colloquial sense but in the lines which gave offence in this instance—

“ then shall this hand and seal witness against us to damnation.” —its use is so strictly literal that it would pass unheeded anywhere but at Oxford.

Any present-day chronicler who as pires to the role of occasional historian must resist the temptation to follow the path already traversed by the famous writers of yesterday unless he cares not whither his presumption may lead him. He would be a bold fellow indeed who undertook the re-writing of the history of Rome on the grounds that Gibbons failed to do it justice. By the same token, stage biographers who remember the delightful essays of Charles Lamb and others on the romantical and colourful personalities who thronged the London stages during the eighteenth century arc deprived the extreme pleasure of resurrecting and writing upon these old shades, by virtue of a nice sense of modesty and the realisation that their predecessors have left a mark for all others to shoot at until the end of time.

In view of all this, the diffidence with which the ghost of Robert Mil liam Elliston is introduced into this column must be left to the imagination of the reader, who even if he be familiar with “Ellistoniana” will perhaps be inclined to refrain from comparisons and even grant indulgence, if perchance in the past his appetite was merely whetted with samples of the actor’s wit.

Elliston was a most magnificent personage whose grand manner and regal bearing struck awe into the hearts of those who failed to glimpse the geniality beneath his somewhat terrifying exterior; if he was by any chance a poseur, he at least carried his pose to a majestic finale, when he asked, or rather ordered, that his epitaph should be written in Latin. Despite his saintly manners there is evidence that Elliston’s youth was marked by a series of amours that reflected credit on his wit at least;

Surprised while visiting the wife of a Wapping innkeeper, the young man was hastily and unceremoniously bundled into a clothes chest. The confinement proved irksome, however, and as release was not forthcoming, young Lothario essayed to lift the lid, but in vain. Presently to his horrified cars was borne the cry of “Fire!” H’S efforts to 'escape were redoubled but it was not until the innkeeper’s lady arrived again upon the scene that he was released from his sanctuary, half-dead from fear and suffocation. -

In recounting the adventure to a friend, he said. “At last I had nothing for it but patience and prayer.” “Prayer,” rebuked the friend, “should have been preceded by repentance.” “Sir,” replied Elliston. “I did not pray directly for myself, but that those who were endeavouring to subdue the fire, might r>e induced to take care of the furniture.”

As lessee of a Birmingham theatre. Elliston sometimes acted there, and during one performance he found it necessary to reproach an actor who was imperfect in his lines. Instead of quailing before the great man, the offender flew into a rage and threatened to kick him down the stairs. Elliston then did the unexpected. Turning to the stage-manager he inquired the man’s name.

“Mr. So-and-so” he was told. “A great man, sir,” replied Elliston, “a very great man. He threatened to kick mo, sir, the lessee of Drury Lane! Such a man as that is wanted in London town. He mustn’t waste his energies here.”

Although he almost revered him, Lamb could not resist an opportunity to indulge in a sly dig at Elliston, when during a game of whist he noticed that the actor’s hands wore rather grubby. “What a hand you would have, Elliston, if dirt were frumps,” remarked the gentle Elia.

It was a trait to be expected in his nature that Elliston should wish posterity to know him, and his request to Monericff his biographer is not surprising. “You will not fail to recollect.” he said loftily, “that Garrick could not, sing; I can. That Lewis could not. act tragedy; I can. That Mossop could not. play comedy; 1 can. That Kean never wrote drama; f have. Do not. forget these things, sir, but in mentioning my name you cannot help associating with it, all that, is memorable in the age in which a I flourished.” And now. as the resurrection of Elliston has fulfilled its purpose, f'»r this column, may his spirit return to its grave somewhat benefited bv a little