Literary cadet, and Saturday evening bulletin. [volume] (Providence, R.I.) 1826-1827, 1826-06-10

piece, | made To have composed an oratorio, called
THE PrOdigal Son. not knowing that DIR. Arnold
had actually composed such an %oratorlo. Some
time after, the DR.. mention ed this to me with a
great deal of good humor. supposing had really
written the character for him, of which he was rath-
err pleased and proud, al the same time urging me
to write II Sacred Oratorio for HIM TO compose.
The Bandifti, or Lope's Labyrinth, was now
| brought out, cast to the strength ofthe company
The scenes were designed by Richards, and painted
by Carver. At the top of the p~lay-bills appeared
I" By the author of the Son-in-Law and Agreeable
Surprise,'' and the names of Carolan the Irish bard,
aud other composers and Mr.. Harris did not in
tend (what was quite out Of rule) to have an after
piece, he was so perfectly sure oisuccess; when, to
the surprize of every body, and the establishment
and dismay of those concerned, it was completely
condemned the first night.
The superb scenery and decorations, sweet songs
and duets of Mrs. Kennedy, and Leoni. the fire ltal-
ian Jew singer, one of these to the tune OF " Dor-
neen Deeiish Eileen Oge," this beautiful air at that
time only known by its Irish words, were OF no saw
ing effect. The audience seemed TO take offence at
lightning flashing outside Of the house through the
windows ola dark room, though this at rehearsals
was thought "A fine preparation for the tempest and
horrors Of the scene in the forest, when the travel
lers are astray, and the banditti known to have is
sued from their cave to attack them. They also
disliked the character of Agnes, Il good-natured
laxative old nurse, my iavourite, with which III
writing | had taken the greatest pains. MIR. Rich
ard Brinsley Sheridan, who happened to be sitting
by me that night in an upper box, SAID, " As you
see they do not like your old woman, you must con-
trive to give them as little Of her company as you
can which remark determined me, if | could,
without hurting the plot, chad the opera gone on)
to omit her altogether.
Before the curtain dropped upon my disgrace, |
slipped out of the theatre, told my servant to call a
| coach, flung myself into it, and got to my lodgings
in Litchield Street, and in a state of confusion and
utter dependency, threw myself on my bed. l
thought OF my poor children, whom ! had taken
from the kind aud fostering care OF their grandia-
| ther and grandmother Heaphy in Ireland, and the
pang went to my heart. was scarcely ten minutes
in this situation, when a coachmans loud rap was
heard at the door, aud before John could apprize
me of my visitor. i'll bolted into the house, up stairs,
and into my bedroom, Mr.. Harris aud DIR. Arnold,
with II cheering to my sorrow, and a coincidence Tor
my comfort.
Mr.. Harris, with the greatest kindness, took all
the cause of the failure on himself; said that he had
h rried me in the writing that to serve the thea
tire had produced the opera three months before
the time agreed upon for its coming out that he
had found my reputation as a dramatic author high
with the public, and the temporary hurt it had sus-
tanned that night proceeded from my alacrity and
industry to accommodate the theatre and obllge
him. lie generously added that he would keep to
the letter OF our agreement, and pay me every shil
ling of the six hundred guineas requesting would
dismiss all trouble from my mind, and he had not
a doubt but should yet be able, with a few altera-
tions, to render this opera successful and productive.
This candid and liberal conduct needs no comment.
The next morning a messenger came from MIR.
Harris. 1t was my old Irish friend and schoOl-tel-
low at the Drawing Academy, William Egan, who
turned out from his waistcoat pocket one hundred
guineas on the table, sent to me ty Mr.. Harris,
with a desire that | would draw without scruple ON
Garten, his treasurer, for such sumsas | might &C.
casionally want. My spirits were raised by this
morning visit, and the kindness of Mr.. Harris
spurred me to activity. IN about three weeks | re-
wrote the opera, the parts were distributed, and II
rehearsal called but alas the performers, one and
all, declared that in its new state it stood Il fairer
chance OF condemnation than before the parts
therefore were again called in; and MIR. Harris, in
the kindest and most friendly manner, insisted that
! should perplex myself no more about 1t, but take
the whole summer, and he was sure | could bring 1t
round for his next winter For better air and
Park walks, took lodgings at nightsbridge, where
Mr.. Harris often called upon me, and at his house |
occasionally met several worthy patrons of the dra-
ma--Mr. Palmer, of Bath, Mr.. Dives, NC.
The first time of my venturing into a theatre, at
ter my defeat, Miss Galley, the celebrated singer,
accostei me from u front row in the lower boxes.
loud enough, as | was many rows back, TO be heard
by all and every body, " SO, OKeeie, you had Il
piece condemned the other night. Pm glad oiit-the
devil mend you for writing an opera without BRING
ing me into it," On my second attenpt, therefore,
wrote the character Of a Lady Aboess fer her,
with a song and chorus of Nuns, to the tune OF Stony
Bater-so that upon reflection, the untavorable
Judgment of the performers, on this my second at
tempt, shielded me from additional disgrace. A
few minutes after Miss Galley had thus accosted
me, Le0ni entered the box, with a lady leaning on
his arm. Wis Galley, catching his eye, called out,
Z" How do ye do, Leoni? | hear you're married-is
that your wife /? Bid her stand up till | see her,"
Leoui, abashed, whispered the lady, who, with
good-humored compliance, stood up. Galley, after
surveying her u little, said, " Ha very well indeed.
like your choice" The audience around us
seemed more diverted with this scene in the boxe
than that on the stage, AS Miss Galley and her oddi-
ties were well known to all. She was one OF the
most beautiful women | ever saw the expression
finer eyes, and the smiles and dlmples that played
round her lips and cheeks, enchanting. She was
eccentric. but had an excellent heart. When | was
al out sixteen years old, | took a drawing OF her In
Dublin. Macklin, who had previously sat Tor me,
in his gown and cap, when at his lodgings In Drum
condra lane, Dublin, gave me an open letter OF IN
PRODUCTION the purport of which was, that, as !
mad succeeded so capitally in the likeness OF an
ugly old fellow like himself, he wished to give
my genius an opportunity Of a display IN a por-
trait of youth aud beauty. She wore her hair
plain over her forehead, III an even line almost to
her eyebrows. This set the fashion in Dublin
and the word was with all the ladies to have their
hair " Catleyfied." Miss Galley and her mother
lived in Drumcondra lane.