GEORGE FREDERICK COOKE

Here is Clapp's sketch of the great touring star:

George Frederick Cooke was born at Westminster , England, on the 17th of April, 1756. His father, a dashing officer, died while he was young, leaving his mother in straitened circumstances. His mother did not long survive his father, and after her death, Cooke was apprenticed to Mr. John Taylor, a respectable printer of Berwick. His attention was chiefly en grossed by getting up private theatricals, and he paid but little attention to types or ink. For several years he was a rolling stone, wandering here and there.

Visiting London, he saw Macklin and Garrick perform, and in the spring of 1776, first faced an audience at Brentford, in the character of Dumont, in the tragedy of" Jane Shore." For two years he was a member of a strolling company, and though he gained experience he gained little else. In the spring of 1778, Mr. Cooke made his debut in London, and whether it was not the season, or that he lacked talent, we know not, but he made at that time no decided impression.

He performed with Mrs. Siddons at several of the provincial theatres, but already he had contracted habits of dissipation and drunkenness, which he was only temporarily free from during a life brought to a premature close by brutal self-indulgence. In 1794, then thirty-eight years of age, having been seventeen years a player, he made his first appearance in Dublin as Othello. He was connected with the theatre here a year, when, in a fit of desperation, he enlisted as a private, in a regiment destined for the W est Indies, but a fit of sickness prevented his embarking with his regiment, and through the aid of friends, after remaining some time in service, he obtained his discharge, and appeared again at Manchester, and was greeted with the most enthusiastic applause. Shortly after, he again disappeared from the theatrical world, and it is a matter of uncertainty where he passed twenty months, though, when under the influence of liquor, he asserted, that during this period he was in the British navy, which attempted to subjugate the United States. In 1794, Cooke married Miss Daniels, an actress, who soon forsook her lord, when on a visit to Dublin, and returned to England, and the marriage was afterwards declared null and void by legal authority. For two years Cooke remained in Ireland, leading a life of dissipation, performing when able, and disappointing the public when physically unable to appear. In 1800, Mr. Cooke was offered an engagement at Covent Garden, and for' a time he rose above the debasing habits he had contracted, and on the 31st of October, appeared as Richard III, astonishing a London audience by his genius. In some characters of tragedy he was thought by many even superior to John Philip Kemble, who till then held undisputed sway in the tragic theatrical world. His great success at this time was in Shylock, in Iago, and in the Man of the World. In these he did not fear, and had no occasion to fear any competition in his own times, and his fame would have been established and his fortune made, had he not taken, on the 18th of April, 1801, the first of those strange liberties with the public, that afterwards became insulting and insufferable.

When Cooper returned to England in 1803, Cooke had again contracted the habit of drinking to excess.
On one occasion, after having passed a day with Cooper, he attempted to perform, but the hisses were loud and strong, and, overcome by the fumes of wine, he walked up the stage. Mr. Johnstone, who was playing Sir Calaghan, addressing the audience in full brogue, said: "Ladies and gentlemen - Mr. Cooke says he can't spake."

Mr. Cooke was a member of Covent Garden with Mr. Kernble and Mrs. Siddons, and on one occasion, when he was to perform Pizarro to Mr. Kernble's Rolla, and Mrs. Siddons's Elvira, he was so indisposed that after a few ineffectual attempts to proceed, he made an effort to address the audience, and began pressing his hand upon his cheek, and making a lamentable face: '' Ladies and gentlemen: my old complaint my old complaint.'. This was irresistible, and the laughter so instantaneous that he retired. Once playing Shylock, when intoxicated, he was much hissed; two nights after, he was advertised for Richard, but did not appear at all. On his next performance he was received with much disapprobation, when he turned to Charemont, and said, " On Monday I was drunk, but appeared, and they didn't like that; on Wednesday I was drunk, so I didn't appear, and they don't like that. What the devil would they have?"

Once, at Glasgow, Rich, of Edinburgh, had occasion to make an apology for Cooke's being unable to act, and it was to a tragic tone, suiting the action to the word: '' Ladies and gentlemen-Mr. Cooke, I am grieved to say, has been taken with the bowl complaint," alluding to George Frederick's predilections for the punch-bowl.

In the summer of 1802, Cooke played Glenalvon, to Master Betty's Young Norval. Master Betty was one of those wonderful cases of precociousness which from time to time astonish the theatrical public. His success was immense throughout England, Ireland, and Scotland, and no prodigy since has ever created such a furore.
Cooke lost cast by playing with the pigmy, but he was obliged to do so, being entirely dependent upon his earnings for support. In 1808, Miss Lamb, with whom he became acquainted in Edinburgh, arrived in London as Mrs. Cooke.

Our limits will not allow us to enter into any lengthy details respecting the stratagem used by T. A. Cooper, then manager with Price of the New York theatre, for inducing Cooke to visit America. It was in 1800, that Cooper, then in Liverpool, England, met with Cooke, who still continued his course of dissipation. They met, and Cooper, not expecting to induce the great tragedian to go across the water, asked him if he knew
of any good actors that he could engage ? Cooke replied that he himself might be induced to go, and Cooper, after consulting with Dickson of the Federal Street Theatre, then in London, wrote him in August from London, offering him twenty-five guineas a week for ten months to play at New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and Baltimore, a benefit at each place, and twenty-five cents a mile for travelling expenses between the above-mentioned places; his passage over the Atlantic being paid by Mr. Cooper. To this Mr. Cooke made no reply, and all negotiations were for the time ended, till Mr. Cooper again met Mr. Cooke at Prescott, then just recovering from one of his " semi-occasional sprees." He accepted the offer, and Mr. Cooper, aware that if Mr. Cooke's departure were known, it would be prevented, at once resolved to carry him to a friend's house, near Liverpool. Here, in a state of inebriety, he remained over night, and was conducted thence in a carriage and four to the place of departure. On their alighting, says Mr. Dunlap, in his" Life of Cooke," from which we gather many particulars for this condensed biographical sketch, Mr. Cooper addressed Cooke, offering him his choice, either the barge or the coach. He persisted in his intention of going, and he was rowed on board the Columbia, Captain Hazard, which set sail on the 4th of October, 1810. Even after he was on board, he was only prevented from again being taken on shore by bribing the custom-house officers, owing to some informality in his name being omitted in the passenger list at the custom house.

Cooke's arrival in America, which marks an era in the dramatic world of this country, was a fact that could scarcely obtain credence. Many were inclined to believe that it was an impostor, and he was actually playing in New York, before the residents of Boston and Philadelphia were aware of his advent. The passage, which had been one of abstinence, had physically improved him, and on the 21st of November, 1810, he made his first appearance on the American stage, in the character of Richard the Third, before an audience of three thousand two hundred people. Mr. Cooke was then in the fifty-fifth year of his age, but he never, perhaps, had performed better in his life, and his success was immense. There was $1,820 in the house, and, till he disappointed the public on the night of his benefit in his usual way, the receipts invariably exceeded a thousand dollars per night. During the seventeen nights he played in New York, the money received by the manager was $21,578.

On the 3d of January, 1811, Mr. Cooke made his appearance at the Boston Theatre in Richard the Third, .with the following cast: " Duke of Buckingham, Mr. Entwistle; Earl of Richmuond, Mr. Duff; Prince Edward, (first appearance,) Master Drake; Lord Mayor, Mr. Dickson; Queen Margaret, Mrs. Powell; Lady Anne, Mrs. Duff.
, Duchess of York, Mrs. Drake.

During this visit to Boston he sat to Stuart for his portrait, and was engaged in several rows, the consequence of his old habit. The result of this engagement, however, was as follows:
January 3d, Richard, . . . $881 50
" 4th, '' , . . . . 739 87 1-2
" 7th, Man of the W orld, . . 887 75
January, 9th, Merchant of Venice, . . 979 37 1-2
'' 10th, Douglass and Love a la Mode, 764 00
" 11th, Man of the World, . . 614 12
" 14th, Merchant of Venice, . . 825 75
" 16th, Othello, . . . . 841 75
' '17th, Merchant of Venice, . . 624 87 1 4
''' 18th, Macbeth, (Mr. Cooke's clear night, . . . . 1,008 12 1-2
''21st, 1st part of Henry IV., . . 867 50
" 22d, Othello, . . . . 1,115 25
" 24th, 1st part of Henry IV; ... 665 37 1-2 Richard III . . . 915 62

The house had not been so crowded for six years, and, as will be seen, the receipts were great, when we consider the capacity of the house. Price (Cooke being paid a salary) received for this engagement $ ,3,640 68.
While in Boston, it is said that at a private party, he was asked what was the most beautiful passage he had ever read. " Mr. Cooke replied: " St. Paul's Defence at the Tribunal of King Agrippa," and calling for the Bible he read it. Our informant states it was certainly the most exquisite piece of reading he ever listened to.
The subsequent visits of Mr. Cooke to this city we shall allude to in this record according to their data, and will briefly close this sketch. Cooke, after this, visits Philadelphia, and while there sat for his portrait to Sully. The portrait is in the possession of the Academy. It represented him in Richard. He per formed sixteen nights in Philadelphia, and the total receipts were $17,360 32. He also appeared in Baltimore, performing with Mr. Cooper, and was married to Mrs. Behn, in New York, on the 20th of June.

After performing several engagements in the principal northern cities, he visited Providence, R. I, with the Boston company, and on the 31st of July, 1812, performed Sir Giles Overreach to a house, the receipts of which were $285, - his last appearance on any stage. He returned to New York, and on the 26th of September, 1812, the great tragedian breathed his last, aged fifty-seven years and five months! Mr. Cooke had frequently announced his intention of returning to England, but his career was terminated through the brutal indulgence of his love of drink, and his genius and talents crushed by the blighting effect of that demon who obtains oftentimes the strongest hold over those who are the most brilliant in intellect.

Those who recollect Mr. Cooke, speak of him in terms of the highest praise; but no evidence to substantiate his claims is necessary, for the man who could descend from the pride of Glenalvon to the sycophancy of Sir Pertinax, who could assume the gentlemanly part with the unmanly conduct of Stukely, and abandon it for the imposing boldness of Pierre- w ho could display the violent transitions of Richard, or the unwilling gradations of Macbeth, must have been the possessor of a range of talent as great as its power was eminent. W e are told, that a transient view of this wonderful performer off the stage, impressed an observer with the idea that he could not be an actor.

He possessed a frame neither lofty nor graceful, neither strong nor symmetrical; a face not peculiarly flexible, although irradiated by an eye of piercing brightness ; a manner rather inelegant, and so peculiar that it appeared incapable of change or adaptation to variety of character, and the absolute destitution of voice, (for all his conversation was in a kind of whisper,) were circumstances which would seem incompatible with versatility of dramatic exhibition. Such is a description of an actor who was pronounced to be " the true disciple of the bard who dipped his pen in the heart." In the Boston Museum there is a wax figure of Mr. Cooke in the dress in which Cooke performed.

THE theatre, during the vacation previous to the season of 1811-12, was refitted. A new stage was built, new decorations provided, and lamps of American manufacture, of a peculiar structure, were introduced. On Monday, the 30th of December, Mr. Cooke was announced to appear and play his farewell engagement, prior to his departure for Europe, having at that time engaged his passage on board a ship which was to sail from this port to England, but owing to a five days' gale in Long Island Sound, he was detained, and did not open till the next night. The receipts of this engagement were: -

Tuesday, Richard III., . . . . . $761 37
Wednesday , Venice Preserved, . . . 593 87
Friday, Man of the World, . . . 811 00
Monday, (Jan. 6, 1812,) Henry IV., . . 703 62
Wednesday, " " . . . 838 87 Thursday, Wheel of Fortune, . . . 736 50
Friday, Venice Preserved, and Love ala Mode, 854 25

On this night Mr. Cooke had a return of the bowl complaint, and the disease proved contagious, for Entwistle was also taken with it, and the habit clung to him till death. It is stated that Entwistle committed suicide in New Orleans. He took a dose of poison, and then went to his room, where, with a bottle of brandy at his side, and a cigar in his mouth, he awaited the certain coming of death, and was found in this position after the fatal drug had done its work. Both were so badly afflicted in the evening that they could not retain control of their understandings, and were obliged to give up before the afterpiece was concluded: The audience hissed, and Cooke retired in disgust his kind friends stating that his weakness was owing to exposure on board the packet on his passage from New York. He did not act again until Monday, the 20th, when he was received very coldly, and as it will be seen the houses fell off .

Monday, (Jan. 20th,) Merchant of Venice, . . $470 50
Wednesday, New Way to Pay Old Debts, . . 417 62
Thursday, Revenge, . . . . . 520 12
Friday, Richard, . . . . . . 704 75
Monday, Macbeth, . . . . . 609 50

Tuesday, New Way to Pay.OId Debts, . .. 451 50
Wednesday, Revenge, . . . . . . 365 31
Friday, Lear, . . . . . . . 551 00
Monday, Othello, . . . . . . 316 25
W ednesday , Merchant of Venice, . . . 658 31
Thursday, Lear, . . . . . 513 15
Friday, Macbeth, (Benefit,) . . . . 696 25

Mr. Cooke received for his share of this engagement of nineteen nights, $3,200.