Richings English Opera: Caroline Richings Benefit

“Macauley’s famous description of the insufferable book—whose title was as long as an ordinary page, one of whose pages was as long as an ordinary chapter, and one of whose chapters rivaled the dimensions of an ordinary volume—might be applied to the performance which was given at the Olympic Theatre last night.   It was insufferably long.  It has come to be a kind of habit with critics, however, to pass gently over the errors of testimonial performances, and as the entertainment on this occasion was for the benefit of Miss Caroline Richings, perhaps the usual editorial charity should be extended.  We merely refer to the affair, indeed, to correct a mistaken notion which theatrical people have long pursued.  This is the supposition that long programmes are necessary, and that they attract the public on the occasions of these special personal appeals.  Nothing can be more incorrect.  Long ‘bills,’ we may safely assert, please people no more when offered in their favorite theatres than they do when presented at their basement doors or in their private houses. They are unpleasant whether we view them from a domestic or a dramatic stand-point, and they have lost popular actors as many good dollars as they have storekeepers, who may have been guilty of them.  Three fragments of plays and operas and an ovation, constituted last evening’s pastime, at the Olympic, and yet notwithstanding its length there was a sort of unfinished and patched-up character about the affair.  A single favorite opera would have been altogether preferred by Miss Riching’s many admirers to the selections from Martha and Norma, and the dull and stupid episode called the Blindman’s Daughter, which were played.  The latter is an ancient and a tearful piece.  It played like an act from Kotzebue, a real sob and sop drama—wherein the voice of the lovely young heroine who is innocent, of course, but is believed to be guilty as might have been expected, is rendered indistinct by her continuous Emotions! and wherein the features of the modern Mr. Lear, who ‘cusses’ his ‘unger-ate-fuil’ daughter one second, and weeps for her the next, are veiled from view by his perpetual application of the handkerchief to his distracted brow and his burning eyes! Everybody, indeed has a turn at agony in the drama, and the white handkerchief of distress frequently fluttered before the public eye. It was a relief, however, to note that Mr. Wylie had forgotten his cambric, although Miss Richings and Mr. Richings made up for his omission by their double essence of grief.  The dolorous little play was doubtless chosen to show off Mr. Richings’ powerful resource of tears, and perhaps to give him a chance to make one of his happy speeches.  This he did at the termination of the drama, when he and Miss Richings received a unanimous recall from the fine audience present. The veteran’s sentences—after a touching reference to his own 45 years on the stage, and to his cradling in the Old Park—became full of warm gratitude to the public and press for their support of this enterprise of English Opera, the brilliant result of which, he said, was to be ascribed to the indomitable perseverance of one woman—that one Miss Caroline Richings.  The formation of this troupe had been a life-long dream with Miss Richings, he said, and though he opposed it at first, yet he was happy to live to see his own fears scattered, her darling hopes realized, and Opera in our Vernacular tongue, risen like a phoenix from the ashes of many disasters a great, glorious and assured success!  In referring, also, to the close of the present performances, Mr. Richings stated that the return of the troupe might be looked for on the 17^th of March.”

“For Miss Richings’ benefit on the 1^st inst., the musical farce of ‘The Blind Man’s Daughter’ was presented, introducing for the first time this season, Mr. Peter Richings as Major Wilson. He was most enthusiastically received by the very crowded audience present. An act from ‘Norma’ followed, in which Miss Richings sang the cavatina, ‘Casta Diva,’ in a most artistic manner. The second act of ‘Martha’ concluded the evening’s entertainment.”