WALTER MONTGOMERY.

Wellington Independent, Volume XXVII, Issue 3356, 27 November 1871, Page 3

WALTER MONTGOMERY.

«. The American journalist touches nothing that he does not adorn. The following romance about the late Mr Walter Montgomery is from an American paper : — Walter Montgomery is no more— the brilliant, the versatile, the gifted actor ; the still more exquisite reader. Who that has heard him read Poe's " Bells," or Dickens's " Pottleton Legacy," but will concede it. He who was delighting us with his masterly Shakspearian delineations so recently has passed away, slaughtered by his own hand — a suicide — but three days wed. Sad is the brief story of the telegram. Sad as it is, it recalls an incident yet more sad, with which one season of his eventful life seemed so blended, that it may not be inappropriate to refer to it here. Less than four years ago a lady, youthful, beautiful, and of rare mental endowments, the pride and joy of a wide circle of admiring friends, weary of the humdrum life of a dull watering-place, left her widowed mother and her native city to find in the bustle and stir of Melbourne a more congenial sphere. She applied to a manager of the leading theatre there — the Theatre Royal. Her beauty and talents at once secured for her a star engagement. Of the role she enacted in her too brief theatrical career — for it lasted barely one season — the character in which she achieved her greatest success was that of Juliet ; this she played to Montgomery's Romeo with much sweet appreciation. It is generally conceded that his finest effort was as Hamlet, but on this it was rivalled by his Romeo, and it was whispered that there more of reality than fiction in the charming rendering of the love strains of the great poet, while the world was still singing the praises of the fair young debutante, a mournful, a sorrowful tale hushed the joy notes into mourning — a disappointed passion had deranged her life,*and she too, died by her own hand. It was rumored at first that poor Waller was the cause. A committee of gentlemen investigated the subject, and not only acquitted him, but found that another, who was the " source and fountain-head of all her woe," was alike blameless. Who that thus witnessed these two gifted actors could have forseen that the carenr of each one should have terminated with a tragedy stranger thau the fiction of poet? We may well say with Shakspeur — 11 For never was ft story of more woo Than that of Juliet and her Romeo." In a private letter, recived in Melbourne by the last mail, is the following, relating to Walter Montgomery : — "As some possible excuse for poor Montgomery, think of this. lie married an American lady, and brought her out on the stage for her first appearance. Having determined to die, it is not unlikely the idea occurred to him that giving her a start on the American stage, as his widow, would be some compensation for marrying her on Wednesday, and shooting himself on the next Friday evening. A tolerably mad idea, but not unlike the man. He paid all the actors and actresses who had been engaged at the Gaiety, and gave them a supper on the occasion of closing. At his funeral, though but little notice had been given of it, an immense number of people attended. So many weeping faces I never saw before. As to the cause of his suicide, the main cause I take to be over-work, over-excitement, and disappointed ambitioD. The lady he married was a fine handsome woman of twenty-seven." A well-known member of the English stage, writing to Mr Henry Edwards, of California, offers the following opinion as to the cause of the rash act. This appears the most correct of all the probabilities which have been hazarded : — " It appears to mo absurd to suppose that either the comparatively small loss he incurred during his three weeks at the " Gaiety,' or overjoy at his marriage, could have produced either the excitement or the despondency necessary to so rash an act. From the tone of the lost eonvei-sation I had with him it was very apparent that he nursed an almost morhidly despondent view of his own personal prospects, as well as those of the profession to which his whole heart and soul were so enthusiastically attached. He was naturally of an exceedingly warm and excitable temperament. There can be no doubt that long ago his imagination was fired with the desire to be esteemed a great Shakes, perian actor, and to achieve that position he determined to do or die in the attempt. For years his application to his profession was almost something marvellous. In his successes, among judges so good as you and I know those in the colonies to be, he thought he read his way to greater triumphs which should place him at the very head of his profession. He saw his longcherished hopes almost realised. Firm in that belief, he thought he had nothing to do but to make a tour through the States and England in order to gather in his well-earned laurels. There was, however, one result upon which he had not reckoned ; he had failed to realise that love of the legitimate drama had ceased to bo a living, vital power in the minds of all, save a very small minority. Whether thelegitimate drama! be really dead or not

[ I will not undertake to say. It is sufficient that he believed it dead, and buried, beyond the power of mortal man to resurrect. He was long to accept the, to him, horrible truth. His experience in America half convinced him of it ; still he was not thoroughly satisfied until he had visited England, and went through his bitter three weeks' experience at the 'Gaiety.' How great was the disappointment. A.t the very moment when he had anticipated triumph he discovered — or thought he had — that the branch of the profession to which he had so long aud so enthusiastically devoted himself, was no longer practised — that in fact it had vanished into nothingness ! Overwhelmingly impressed with his belief in this view of the case, he felt crushed by the utter failure of the hopes that had so long sustained him.