―366―

For the Literary Magazine.

biographical anecdotes of
william henry west betty,
commonly called the young
roscius.

OF the lives of men who have
been celebrated in any art or sci-
ence, who have rendered them-
selves famous by the eminence of
their genius, or the extent of their
learning, it is a laudable curiosity
to desire to be accurately and mi-
nutely informed. We are anxious
to follow them from their cradle—
to watch the progress of their
minds—to trace them from the
first dawnings of their genius—
from the inexperience of infancy,
to the fulness and maturity of
their manhood. The object of the
present sketch has not indeed reach-
ed the latter period, but he alrea-
dy occupies so large a space in the
public eye, and the eminence he has

reached at the early age of thir-
teen, is so much higher than most
of those of the maturest manhood.
have been able to attain by the la-
bour and study of years, that our
readers, we are sure, will thank us
for the following particulars, ex-
tracted from Mr. Merritt's well
written biographical sketch of his
life.

William Henry West Betty, only
son of William Henry Betty, was
born on the l3th of September,
1791, as appears from the parish
register of the church of St. Chad's
in Shrewsbury. Mr. Betty, the fa-
ther, was the son of Dr. Betty,
a physician of the first eminence
at Lisburn, not far from Belfast,
in the north of Ireland; at whose
death he became possessed of a
handsome independent fortune. His
wife was miss Mary Stanton, the
daughter of a respectable gentleman
in the county of Worcester. She
was a young lady of good education
and high accomplishments, and
brought him a respectable fortune,
part of which, it is said, is entailed
on the young gentleman who is the
subject of these memoirs. It has
been frequently said that miss Stan-
ton had been formerly either a per-
former on a public stage, or in the
frequent habit of acting in private
theatres; neither of which reports
have the smallest foundation in truth.
The name of Stanton happens to be-
long to several families of theatrical
professions in various parts of the
kingdom; and this circumstance,
from the mere identity of the names,
may have led to a supposition that
the family of Mr. Betty was includ-
ed in the number.

It is, however, certain, that
miss Stanton always discovered a
great predilection for the amuse-
ments of the theatre; and she and
her sisters, in their own family,
used frequently to divert them-
selves with reciting plays and other
pieces of poetry: an amusement
not only innocent, but, under cer-
tain restrictions, extremely lauda-
ble.

―367―

Mr. Betty, at the time of the
birth of his son, lived within a small
distance of Shrewsbury, from
whence he removed, a few years
after, to the neighbourhood of his
native place, in the north of Ire-
land. He occupied a farm, and
also carried on some business relat-
ing to the linen manufactory, near
Ballynahinch, in the county of
Down. He remained in this situa-
tion, till the rising celebrity of his
son rendered it necessary for him
to give up his employments, in or-
der to attend the young gentleman
in his theatrical excursions.

Mr. Betty, as well as his lady,
has been always attached to the en-
tertainments of the theatre, and has
been occasionally in habits of inti-
macy with some of the most eminent
professors of the dramatic art, both
in England and Ireland. Hence
it is natural to suppose that the
subject of acting would be frequently
introduced in the family, and mas-
ter Betty must necessarily have im-
bibed some notions respecting it, and
perhaps some inclination towards it,
at a very tender age. The early
enthusiasm and precocious excel-
lence of children, in different arts
and acquirements, may generally be
traced to some causes of this kind.
The work of education begins insen-
sibly, and at a very early period in
the infant mind; and it is extremely
difficult to distinguish a natural pro-
pensity from an acquired habit. Al-
most all the extraordinary instances
which have occurred of premature
abilities have happened in the art
or profession which has been exer-
cised by the parents.

Mrs. Betty being herself an ac-
complished speaker, and residing in
a district where the English lan-
guage is spoken in its worst state
of depravity, thought it necessary
to pay particular attention to the
education of her son in that orna-
mental and necessary acquirement.
He was, therefore, exercised at an
early period in the habit of reciting
passages from the best authors, and
was taught to pronounce the lan-
guage with propriety.

In the summer of 1802, the
play of Pizarro was brought out
by the Belfast manager with much
splendour, and Mrs. Siddons was
the Elvira. As Mr. Betty and his
son happened to be in the town,
they were induced to go to the
theatre, being the first time that
master Betty had ever seen a play.
From this moment his fate was de-
cided. When he came home, he
told his father, with a look of such
enthusiasm, and a voice so pathetic,
that those who heard him will ne-
ver forget the expression—that he
should certainly die if he must not
be a player. The wonderful acting
of Mrs. Siddons, in Elvira, not ea-
sily to be forgotten by the most
phlegmatic, had left an impression
on his glowing mind which nothing
could ever erase. It was fortunate
for himself that his first, and there-
fore most durable impressions,
were stamped by such a model.
He talked of nothing but Elvira;
he spouted the speeches of Elvira;
and his passion for the stage became
every hour more vehement and un-
controllable. He returned with
his father to Ballynahinch, but not
to his usual occupations. The Sid-
donian accents still rang in his
ear; and her majestic march and
awful brow still filled his fancy.
Every thing was neglected for his
favourite object; and every thing
not connected with it became tire-
some and insipid. His propensity
grew visibly more rooted by time;
his importunities were irresistible;
and his parents, at length, finding
all opposition unavailing, were
compelled to think seriously of the
practicability of indulging him.

It may be remarked, as a strong
proof of the correctness of his na-
tural taste, that though Rolla is the
hero of the piece, and a part which
is eminently calculated to strike the
romantic mind of youth, yet it
made on his but a slight impres-
sion. Elvira alone was the heroine
of his imagination; for he saw the
character only through the medium
of the actress. He was instantly
able to separate the genuine ore

―368―

from the surrounding dross, and
saw at once what was to be imitat-
ed and what to be avoided. A part
of very inferior interest became
predominant in his mind, because it
was in the hands of a great actress.

In pursuance of the resolution he
had taken, Mr. Betty returned with
his son to Belfast, in order to con-
sult Mr. Atkins, and to ask his
opinion of the boy's qualifications.
Mr. Atkins is the manager of Bel-
fast theatre, and a man of friend-
ly dispositions and liberal charac-
ter. In his presence, master Betty
repeated some passages from the
part of Elvira, with the wild and
unskilful vigour of untutored genius.
The manager was a good deal struck
with what he had heard, but wished
to have the opinion of Mr. Hough,
his prompter, for whose judgment
he had a considerable deference.
That gentleman was accordingly
sent for, and immediately discerned
in the boy's recitation and action
great capabilities for a first-rate
actor. He gave him a few instruc-
tions, and at the same time pointed
out to him the part of Rolla, as a
much fitter object of his study, than
that of Elvira, to which he had been
directed by his feelings on seeing
the performance of Mrs. Siddons.
The young gentleman felt the full
value of the knowledge he had re-
ceived, and, in the ardour of his
gratitude, told Mr. Hough he was
his guardian angel. The father and
son now returned once more to Bal-
lynahinch, and master Betty hap-
pening to find the tragedy of Zara
in the house, began to study the
part of Osman, in addition to that
of Rolla and some others. Some
time afterwards, Mr. Hough ac-
cepted a pressing invitation which
he had received from Mr. Betty, to
pass a short time at his house in the
country, with a view of observing
the boy more narrowly, and in or-
der to give him more detailed in-
structions. Mr. Hough soon found
that his pupil possessed a docility
even greater than his genius; for,
whatever he was directed to do, he
could instantly execute, and was

sure never to forget. He found
that his feelings could take the im-
pression of every passion and sen-
timent, and express them in their
appropriate language. Whatever
was properly presented to his mind,
he could immediately lay hold of,
and seemed to seize, by a sort of
intuitive sagacity, the spirit of every
sentence, and the prominent beau-
ties of every remarkable passage.
The happy moment at length ar-
rived, which was to realize our
hero's hopes and wishes. Mr. At-
kins, induced by the reports he had
received, and solicitous to bring
forward some extraordinary novel-
ty, on account of the extreme de-
pression of the times*, offered him
an engagement to play at Belfast
for four nights. Accordingly, about
the middle of August, in the year
1803, he announced the tragedy of
Zara, the part of Osman to be un-
dertaken by a young gentleman only
eleven years of age. The singulari-
ty of the exhibition drew together
a great crowd of people, who were
equally astonished and enraptured
at the performance of the young
actor. A gentleman of the profes-
sion, who was present on the occa-
sion, himself a good tragedian, and
a competent judge of the art, assur-
ed me that his performance, even
at that time, was striking and cor-
rect beyond all belief. He dis-
covered no mark of embarrassment
on his first appearance, and went
through the part without any con-
fusion or mistake. The applauses
were, of course, tumultuous and
incessant. The actors of the regu-
lar company were confounded to
see themselves so completely school-
ed by a mere infant, and even those
who had formed the most sanguine
expectations concerning him, were
amazed at his success.

The following day he was an-
nounced for the interesting part of

  * The much lamented insurrection in
Dublin, which caused the death of
of lord Kilwarden, had recently taken
place, and had spread a great alarm
over all parts of the country.

―369―

young Norval, in the tragedy of
Douglas. His performance of this
part, it was justly thought, would
afford a fair test of his real capa-
bility, as the character, without re-
quiring any violent stretch of the
imagination, might, in some degree,
be assimilated to his years and
figure. The deriding, as well as
the “admiring throng,” now made
a point of attending the theatre;
and the next day the whole town of
Belfast, with scarcely any excep-
tions, were of one sentiment con-
cerning him. He not only confirm-
ed the favourable impression of his
first performance, but he displayed
new excellencies of a very high or-
der, and such as are supposed to
be of the most difficult attainment.
The jealousy, rage, and despair of
Osman, a usual gradation of pas-
sions, were more easy to represent
than the chastened spirit and modest
heroism of the gallant Douglas. It
was thought impossible that a boy
could be brought to comprehend or
to pourtray these nice effects of
contending principles. But every
obstacle was surmounted. He play-
ed the part with such unaffected,
yet energetic simplicity, that the
most incredulous were satisfied, and
his fame, among the inhabitants of
Belfast, was firmly established. He
next played Rolla with equal suc-
cess, and afterwards Romeo, which
concluded his engagement.

In the mean time, Mr. Jones, the
manager of the Dublin theatre, had
heard of this dramatic prodigy;
and soon after his last performance
at Belfast, offered him an engage-
ment on very advantageous terms.
After some negociation, the particu-
lars of an agreement were settled,
by which he was to play nine nights
at the theatre-royal, Crow-street.
As the young gentleman's talents
and importance were now become
manifest, Mr. Betty very prudently
resolved to contribute every means
in his power to bring forward and
mature so rare a genius. With this
view he solicited Mr. Hough to at-
tend his son in his excursion to Dub-
lin, as well as in all his future en-

gagements: both for the purpose of
continuing his instructions, and for
taking the superintendance of his
theatrical interests and conduct.
Mr. Hough having conceived a
strong attachment to the boy, as
well as a sanguine hope of his fu-
ture eminence, accepted the propo-
sal, and immediately resigned his
situation in the Belfast theatre.
From that time to the present he
has directed his whole time and at-
tention to his celebrated pupil, and
their strong attachment to each
other is a proof that the appoint-
ment was mutually agreeable. On
the nature of Mr. Hough's abilities,
as an instructor, the public are en-
abled to decide: he is certainly en-
titled to great credit for the care
and judgment with which he has
fulfilled his trust.

His first appearance at Dublin
was on Monday, the 28th of No-
vember, 1803, in his favourite part
of young Norval. He was announc-
ed as the young gentleman who had
acquired the appellation of the In-
fant Roscius, being only twelve
years old. The house was crowd-
ed with company of the first rank;
and such was his reception in the
character, that the play was repeat-
ed on his second night of perform-
ing with increased attraction. The
third night he played Frederic, in
the comedy of Lovers’ Vows, in
which he was, if possible, still more
successful than before. His repre-
sentation of that character is, in-
deed, generally admitted to be one
of the most perfect performances
of the modern stage. He played
the whole nine nights of his engage-
ment to the most brilliant audiences,
and with a great increase of repu-
tation to himself, and of profit to
the managers.

While he remained at Dublin,
Mr. Jones was so sensible of his
eminent talents and of his import-
ance, as an acquisition to the thea-
tre, that he became very solicitous
to secure to himself so valuable a
treasure. He offered, accordingly,
to engage him by articles for a term
of years, at a liberal and increasing

―370―

salary; but Mr. Betty very judi-
ciously thought proper to decline
the proposal.

The engagement with Mr. Jones
being completed, his friends were
induced to accept an offer of play-
ing six nights at Cork, from Mr.
Peros, the manager of a respectable
company of comedians in the
south of Ireland. He opened with
Hamlet, on the 31st of December,
and afterwards played Romeo,
Douglas, and some other charac-
ters. The house was so full every
night, that numbers of the inhabi-
tants of Cork and its neighbour-
hood could not possibly get an op-
portunity of seeing his perform-
ance. An agreement was therefore
made with Mr. Peros, to extend
the engagement for three nights
longer. That his power of attrac-
tion was beyond any thing ever
witnessed in that city, will appear
from the following circumstance.
Besides Mr. Peros’ theatre in Cork,
which was formerly occupied by
Mr. Philip Astley, and adapted
for his performances, there is an-
other belonging to the Dublin ma-
nager. In this the Dublin com-
pany play regularly several months
in the year, and it is of course ac-
counted the principal theatre. The
nightly receipts at this house fre-
quently do not exceed ten pounds;
yet it is an assured fact that Mr.
Peros, during the performance of
the young Roscius, received up-
wards of one hundred pounds every
night.

By this time the fame of his ex-
traordinary success had reached as
far as Scotland, and he now re-
ceived a proposal from Mr. Jack-
son, the Edinburgh manager, to
play a few nights in that city. The
offer was accepted; but as Mr.
Jackson's season was then far ad-
vanced, it was agreed that he
should first perform at Glasgow
the ensuing spring, and afterwards
fulfil his engagement at Edin-
burgh. This interval enabled him,
after completing his nine nights at
Cork, to accompany Mr. Peros'
company to Waterford; where he

performed four nights, with as
much encouragement from the in-
habitants, and as much advantage
to himself, as could reasonably be
desired.

His friends now thought it ad-
viseable to begin their journey to the
north, as the spring was approach-
ing, and it was desirable to be in a
convenient situation for the pas-
sage to Scotland. This long jour-
ney, almost from one extremity of
Ireland to the other, in the depth of
winter, was of course extremely
tedious and fatiguing. However,
it was happily completed without
any accident, and he once more
joined his old friend Mr. Atkins,
at Londonderry, where it had been
agreed that he should play six
nights, as the Glasgow theatre was
not to open for some time. Hav-
ing completed this engagement
with the same good fortune which
had hitherto attended him, they
set forward for the place of embar-
kation to Port Patrick. Most un-
fortunately, in their way to the
coast, Mrs. Betty was seized with a
very severe and dangerous ill-
ness, which obliged them to stop
at an obscure village on the road.
Here they were detained for more
than five weeks, under the most
disagreeable circumstances; the
weather being very inclement, and
scarcely any medical assistance to
be procured. At the end of that
time, she recovered sufficient
strength to go forward, and at
length, after many difficulties, and
a most stormy passage across the
channel, they arrived in safety at
Glasgow.

The scene was now entirely
changed. They had entered into
a new kingdom, where the habits
and manners of the people differed
considerably from those of the
country they had left, and it was
not known but that their taste for
dramatic excellence might be
equally different. Our hero's
friends, who knew well the force of
national passion and prejudices,
were not entirely without appre-
hensions for the consequences of

―371―

this change. Mr. Jackson, they
knew, had been blamed as well as
ridiculed for bringing him over;
and the reports from Ireland, re-
specting his admirable acting, had
been treated in this neighbourhood
as chimerical and extravagant.—
His supposed excellencies had been
attributed to that national partiali-
ty, to that ardent imagination, and
that propensity to exaggeration,
for which the Irish have long been
celebrated. Mr. Jackson, how-
ever, who knew that the genuine
feelings of human nature are uni-
versally the same, encouraged
them to hope, and assured them
that all would be well.

The first appearance of the
young Roscius in Great Britain,
was accordingly fixed for Wednes-
day the 21st of May, 1804, in the
character of Douglas, the part
with which he usually opens. His
reception was equal to the mana-
ger's most sanguine expectations,
and proved that the language of
nature and passion are every where
alike understood, and equally re-
lished. Mr. Jackson, in writing on
this subject, declares, “that he re-
ceived the greatest bursts of ap-
plause that he had ever witnessed
to have been given by any audi-
ence.” He played the whole four-
teen nights of his engagement to
overflowing houses, and received
the same approbation in every cha-
racter he attempted.

From Glasgow Mr. Jackson
conducted the young Roscius to
Edinburgh, where he performed
the same number of nights with
such a similarity of success, that to
describe it would be merely a tire-
some repetition of the same modes
of expression.

While he remained in Scotland,
offers of engagements from the
principal theatrical managers in this
country poured in upon him from
all quarters. He had already passed
through two parts of the empire
with an uninterrupted career of
success, and the third now only re-
mained for his scene of action.
Till his performance at Edinburgh,

he had been very little heard of
in England, but his fame was now
extending itself rapidly in every
direction; and the continual ru-
mours of his extraordinary talents
began to excite attention even in
London. Mr. M'Cready, the ma-
nager of the Birmingham theatre,
was the first who brought him be-
fore the English public. He was
the earliest in his application for
this enviable and profitable distinc-
tion, and every one will be pleased
to hear that his spirit and exertion
have been most liberally requited,
The young Roscius played at Bir-
mingham fourteen nights; and the
theatrical annals of that town fur-
nish nothing equal to the astonish-
ing commotion which his perfor-
mances excited. The public inns
were completely occupied with per-
sons who came to see him from
every part of the surrounding coun-
try: and even the stage-coaches,
from places at a distance, were fill-
ed with passengers on the same
errand. The case was exactly the
same at Sheffield, where he after-
wards performed fourteen nights
under the same manager. The
town was so crowded with company
that it was with great difficulty a
bed could be procured, either in pub-
lic or private houses.

After leaving Sheffield, he ar-
rived, about the beginning of Octo-
ber, at Liverpool. All his farmer
successes at other places, however
brilliant and unprecedented, were
here completely eclipsed. The in-
habitants of this town are particu-
larly attached to dramatic amuse-
ments, and the ordinary receipts of
the theatre greatly exceed those of
any other in the kingdom, Lon-
don, and perhaps Dublin, only ex-
cepted. This is apparent from the
rent paid by the managers, Messrs.
Lewis and Knight, to the proprie-
tors, which is fifteen hundred pounds
per annum. The house is also con-
siderably more spacious than any
other in the empire, except those
before mentioned; yet the difficulty
of admittance was such, during the
performance of the young Roscius

―372―

that a few minutes after the door
was opened, not a place was to be
obtained in any part of the house.
When the box-office opened in a
morning, the pressure to procure
places was so excessive, that many
gentlemen had their clothes torn in
pieces, their hats and shoes carried
away in the crowd, and themselves,
sometimes, severely bruised, and al-
most suffocated in the attempt.—
There is reason to believe, that if
the theatre had been twice as large,
it would have been equally thronged.
The terms of his engagement were
so liberal, that he received from
the managers, for his share of the
profits of fifteen nights, the enor-
mous sum of fifteen hundred and
twenty pounds, as appears from Mr.
Betty's receipt in Mr. Knight's pos-
session. Perhaps it would be diffi-
cult to find an example of so large
a sum having ever before been
paid to any individual for personal
exertion alone, in the same space
of time.

From Liverpool he went to Ches-
ter, where he played seven nights;
and his performances, as usual,
were attended by all the gentry of
the neighbourhood for a circuit of
many miles. He left that city on
the 9th of November, in order to
perform a few nights at Manches-
ter, which was his last engagement
in the country, previous to his ap-
pearance on the boards of the me-
tropolis.

It is a little remarkable, that,
though on the stage his deport-
ment and address are so complete-
ly those of a man, yet in private
life he is more than commonly
childish: all his amusements and
sports are infantine, even beyond
his years. But though among his
equals in age he is sportive and
boyish, his usual manner is serious
and pensive: sometimes he appears
restrained and timid; at others,
he seems indifferent to every thing
around him. But his fondness for
play, and for every thing else, in-
stantly give way when his favour-
ite pursuit is in question. His at-
tachment to his art is paramount

to every other passion; and his
character is another illustration
of the remark, that Nature sel-
dom inspires a strong ambition for
any object, without furnishing, at
the same time, the abilities to at-
tain it.