A staircase on the outside led to the upper storey of the Masonic Hall. In this place were held the first meetings of the first Mechanics' Institute, organized under the auspices of Moses Fish, a builder of York, and other lovers of knowledge of the olden time. Here were attempted the first popular lectures. Here we remember hearing—certainly some forty years ago—Mr. John Fenton read a paper on the manufacture of steel, using diagrams in illustration: one of them showed the magnified edge of a well-set razor, the serrations all sloping in one direction, by which it might be seen, the lecturer remarked, that unless a man, in shaving, imparted to the instrument in his hand a carefully-studied movement, he was likely "to get into a scrape."—The lower part of the Masonic Hall was for a considerable while used as a school, kept successively by Mr. Stewart and Mr. Appleton, and afterwards by Mr. Caldicott.
At the corner of Market Lane, on the north side, towards the Market, was Frank's Hotel, an ordinary white frame building. The first theatre of York was extemporized in the ball-room of this house. When fitted up for dramatic purposes, that apartment was approached by a stairway on the outside.
Here companies performed, under the management, at one time, of Mr. Archbold; at another, of Mr. Talbot; at another, of Mr. Vaughan. The last-named manager, while professionally at York, lost a son by drowning in the Bay. We well remember the poignant distress of the father at the grave, and that his head was bound round on the occasion with a white bandage or napkin. Mrs. Talbot was a great favourite. She performed the part of Cora in Pizarro, and that of Little Pickle, in a comedy of that name, if our memory serves us.
Pizarro, Barbarossa or the Siege of Algiers, Ali Baba or the Forty Thieves, the Lady of the Lake, the Miller and his Men, were among the pieces here represented. The body-guard of the Dey of Algiers, we remember, consisted of two men, who always came in with military precision just after the hero, and placed themselves in a formal manner at fixed distances behind him, like two sentries. They were in fact soldiers from the garrison, we think. All this appeared very effective.
The dramatic appliances and accessories at Frank's were of the humblest kind. The dimensions of the stage must have been very limited: the ceiling of the whole room, we know, was low. As for orchestra—in those days, the principal instrumental artist of the town was Mr. Maxwell, who, well-remembered for his quiet manner, for the shade over one eye, in which was some defect, and for his homely skill on the violin, was generally to be seen and heard, often alone, but sometimes with an associate or two, here, as at all other entertainments of importance, public or private. Nevertheless, at that period, to an unsophisticated yet active imagination, innocent of acquaintance with more respectable arrangements, everything seemed charming; each scene, as the bell rang and the baize drew up, was invested with a magical glamour, similar in kind, if not equal in degree, to that which, in the days of our grandfathers, ere yet the modern passion for real knowledge had been awakened, fascinated the young Londoner at Drury Lane.
And how curiously were the illusions of the mimic splendors sometimes in a moment broken, as if to admonish the inexperienced spectator of the facts of real life. In the performance of Pizarro, it will be remembered that an attempt is made to bribe a Spanish soldier at his post. He rejects and flings to the ground what is called "a wedge of massive gold:"—we recollect the sound produced on the boards of the stage in Frank's by the fall of this wedge of massive gold: it instantly betrayed itself by this, as well as by its nimble rebound, to be, of course, a gilded bit of wood.
And it is not alone at obscure village performances that such disclosures occur. At an opera in London, where all appearances were elaborately perfect, we recollect the accidental fall of a goblet which was supposed to be of heavy chased silver, and also filled with wine—a contretemps occasioned by the giddiness of the lad who personated a page: two things were at once clear: the goblet was not of metal, and nothing liquid was contained within it: which recalls a mishap associated in our memory with a visit to the Argentina at Rome some years ago: this was the coming off of a wheel from the chariot of a Roman general, at a critical moment: the descent on this occasion from the vehicle to the stage was a true step from the sublime to the ridiculous; for the audience observed the accident, and persisted in their laugh in spite of the heroics which the great commander proceeded to address, in operatic style, to his assembled army.
It was in the assembly-room at Frank's, dismantled of its theatrical furniture, that a celebrated fancy ball was given, on the last day of the year 1827, conjointly by Mr. Galt, Commissioner of the Canada Company, and Lady Mary Willis, wife of Mr. Justice Willis. On that occasion the general interests of the Company were to some extent studied in the ornamentation of the room, its floor being decorated with an immense representation, in chalks or water-colour, of the arms of the association. The supporters of the shield were of colossal dimensions: two lions, rampant, bearing flags turning opposite ways: below, on the riband, in characters proportionably large, was the motto of the Company, "Non mutat genus solum." The sides and ceiling of the room, with the passages leading from the front door to it, were covered throughout with branchlets of the hemlock-spruce: nestling in the greenery of this perfect bower were innumerable little coloured lamps, each containing a floating light.
Here, for once, the potent, grave and reverend signiors of York, along with their sons and daughters, indulged in a little insanity. Lady Mary Willis appeared as Mary, Queen of Scots; the Judge himself, during a part of the evening, was in the costume of a gay old lady, the Countess of Desmond, aged one hundred years; Miss Willis, the clever amateur equestrienne, was Folly, with cap and bells; Dr. W. W. Baldwin was a Roman senator; his two sons William and St. George, were the Dioscuri, "Fratres Helenæ, lucida Sidera;" his nephew, Augustus Sullivan, was Puss in Boots; Dr. Grant Powell was Dr. Pangloss; Mr. Kerr, a real Otchipway chief, at the time a member of the Legislature, made a magnificent Kentucky backwoodsman, named and entitled Captain Jedediah Skinner. Mr. Gregg, of the Commissariat, was Othello. The Kentuckian (Kerr), professing to be struck with the many fine points of the Moor, as regarded from his point of view, persisted, throughout the evening, in exhibiting an inclination to purchase—an idea naturally much resented by Othello. Col. Givins, his son Adolphus, Raymond Baby, and others, were Indian chiefs of different tribes, who more than once indulged in the war-dance. Mr. Buchanan, son of the British Consul at New York, was Darnley; Mr. Thomson, of the Canada Company's office, was Rizzio; Mr. G. A. Barber was a wounded sailor recently from Navarino (that untoward event had lately taken place); his arm was in a sling; he had suffered in reality a mutilation of the right hand by an explosion of gunpowder, on the preceding 5th of November.
Mr. Galt was only about three years in Canada, but this short space of time sufficed to enable him to lay the foundation of the Canada Company wisely and well, as is shewn by its duration and prosperity. The feat was not accomplished without some antagonism springing up between himself and the local governmental authorities, whom he was inclined to treat rather haughtily.