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The Citizen asked Randy Boswell, a longtime Ottawa journalist and Carleton University professor, to reconstruct life in the capital on the day Canada was born. The history specialist dug into archives and old newspapers, unearthing a series of long-overlooked stories that shed fresh light on Confederation’s first 24 hours and some of the people whose lives were touched by the events of that landmark day 150 years ago. This is the fifth such story, in a series that will continue to Canada Day.
On Confederation’s opening night, one might imagine John Townsend glancing over to Canada’s majestic new legislature and breathing a regretful sigh.
It was the first Dominion Day — July 1, 1867 — and Townsend was taking part in a pair of theatrical performances at Her Majesty’s Theatre, a stone’s throw across Wellington Street from Parliament Hill.
Exactly a decade before, however, in the British general election of 1857, Townsend had won a shock victory and a seat as the MP for Greenwich in the Mother Parliament itself — the Palace of Westminster.
Townsend’s path in life might well have been scripted for the stage: from Shakespearean actor of modest acclaim to legislator at the epicentre of British power to itinerant “tragedian” in a far-flung outpost of the Empire.
Born in the London area in 1819, Townsend was an actor and theatre owner in suburban Richmond in 1852 when the death of his father forced him to take over the family auction house in Greenwich, another district of London.
Restless as an auctioneer, Townsend’s life suddenly lurched sideways into politics in 1857 after a group of social reformers pressed their loquacious friend to run for Parliament against a longstanding MP whose star had faded.
John Townsend
Townsend declared himself a candidate and promised to be a “steadfast upholder of the great principles of civil and religious liberty.” To widespread surprise, just five days later, he won the seat, gushing his thanks to supporters for having conferred upon him “the highest honour” and elevating him to “so proud a position.”
But political glory, alas, was fleeting; Townsend’s seat was soon squandered amid scandal and embarrassment.
He was forced to admit questionable business dealings and deep indebtedness in connection with the auction firm. A subsequent declaration of personal bankruptcy disqualified him from Parliament under rules meant to prevent an MP’s financial woes from breeding corruption in public office.
The road to redemption led him back to the theatre. “To satisfy his creditors,” notes one biographical account, “he played leading roles in seven London playhouses and is reported to have been the last to perform Richard III on horseback at Astley’s Theatre.”
An 1858 London news article headlined “A Theatrical M.P.” reported that Townsend would appear “on the histrionic boards for the sole purpose of assisting in the liquidation of the claims of his creditors.”
Expelled from Parliament and suffering stress from his sharp reversal of fortune, Townsend was advised to retreat to a rural life. He and his family emigrated to Canada in 1862. Plans to settle on a farm quickly fizzled and Townsend — backed by his theatrically trained wife and children — was soon staging plays in Kingston in collaboration with some stage-worthy soldiers of the 47th Regiment.
Success there led to the move to Ottawa, the rapidly growing capital, then the leasing of Her Majesty’s Theatre and the Dominion Day performances in the shadow of Parliament.
But the Townsends’ mission to make Ottawa a cultural hub didn’t last long, and luck didn’t appear to be on their side.
“We sympathize with Mr. Townsend in his misfortune,” the Times stated at one point in 1867 after foul weather “prevented anything like an audience being present” for a much-anticipated performance. Another show was scuttled “in consequence of an accident sustained by Miss Florence Townsend.”
And in one particularly disastrous episode, plans to team for a big show with a company of New York actors fell apart after Mr. Townsend had already purchased advertisements stoking public excitement and paid 60 pounds to defray the troupe’s travel costs. In an open letter to local theatre patrons that was printed in the Times, Townsend said they “have a right to know why I disappointed them last night,” that the police were now involved in sorting out this “untoward affair,” and that he felt confident “a proper estimate of the facts” would “exonerate me from blame.”
Two months after Confederation’s arrival had fuelled such optimism about Ottawa’s future, the manager of Her Majesty’s Theatre announced that he and his family would be leaving the city. The mayor and other leading citizens promptly organized a benefit at which Townsend and his family would perform two plays and collect both ticket receipts and donations to support their planned move to Southern Ontario.
The benefit, the patrons said, was arranged “in token of their appreciation” of Townsend’s “constant endeavors to cultivate the legitimate drama in the capital. . . . This being the last we shall see of the Townsend family in Ottawa, we would earnestly bespeak a full house.”
A large audience did attend, it was later reported, though bad luck continued to dog poor John Townsend. A guest actor who had consented to a special appearance in a leading role was forced to withdraw after “having had the great misfortune to lose his wife, who died yesterday.” The part was played by Townsend himself.
The family settled in Hamilton, regularly playing shows for another decade in that city while touring Southern Ontario, as well as New York and other northern states.
Townsend “deserves a place in Canadian theatre history for pioneering one of the earliest of the dozen or so Canadian-based theatre companies that dared to swim in the sea of American touring,” arts historian David Gardner has written.
The ex-parliamentarian and patriarch of the family that helped foster a love of theatre in early Canada — including Confederation-era Ottawa — died in Hamilton in 1892, “a respected, if somewhat down-and-out, teacher of acting and elocution.”
查看原文...
On Confederation’s opening night, one might imagine John Townsend glancing over to Canada’s majestic new legislature and breathing a regretful sigh.
It was the first Dominion Day — July 1, 1867 — and Townsend was taking part in a pair of theatrical performances at Her Majesty’s Theatre, a stone’s throw across Wellington Street from Parliament Hill.
Exactly a decade before, however, in the British general election of 1857, Townsend had won a shock victory and a seat as the MP for Greenwich in the Mother Parliament itself — the Palace of Westminster.
Townsend’s path in life might well have been scripted for the stage: from Shakespearean actor of modest acclaim to legislator at the epicentre of British power to itinerant “tragedian” in a far-flung outpost of the Empire.
Born in the London area in 1819, Townsend was an actor and theatre owner in suburban Richmond in 1852 when the death of his father forced him to take over the family auction house in Greenwich, another district of London.
Restless as an auctioneer, Townsend’s life suddenly lurched sideways into politics in 1857 after a group of social reformers pressed their loquacious friend to run for Parliament against a longstanding MP whose star had faded.
John Townsend
Townsend declared himself a candidate and promised to be a “steadfast upholder of the great principles of civil and religious liberty.” To widespread surprise, just five days later, he won the seat, gushing his thanks to supporters for having conferred upon him “the highest honour” and elevating him to “so proud a position.”
But political glory, alas, was fleeting; Townsend’s seat was soon squandered amid scandal and embarrassment.
He was forced to admit questionable business dealings and deep indebtedness in connection with the auction firm. A subsequent declaration of personal bankruptcy disqualified him from Parliament under rules meant to prevent an MP’s financial woes from breeding corruption in public office.
The road to redemption led him back to the theatre. “To satisfy his creditors,” notes one biographical account, “he played leading roles in seven London playhouses and is reported to have been the last to perform Richard III on horseback at Astley’s Theatre.”
An 1858 London news article headlined “A Theatrical M.P.” reported that Townsend would appear “on the histrionic boards for the sole purpose of assisting in the liquidation of the claims of his creditors.”
Expelled from Parliament and suffering stress from his sharp reversal of fortune, Townsend was advised to retreat to a rural life. He and his family emigrated to Canada in 1862. Plans to settle on a farm quickly fizzled and Townsend — backed by his theatrically trained wife and children — was soon staging plays in Kingston in collaboration with some stage-worthy soldiers of the 47th Regiment.
Success there led to the move to Ottawa, the rapidly growing capital, then the leasing of Her Majesty’s Theatre and the Dominion Day performances in the shadow of Parliament.
But the Townsends’ mission to make Ottawa a cultural hub didn’t last long, and luck didn’t appear to be on their side.
“We sympathize with Mr. Townsend in his misfortune,” the Times stated at one point in 1867 after foul weather “prevented anything like an audience being present” for a much-anticipated performance. Another show was scuttled “in consequence of an accident sustained by Miss Florence Townsend.”
And in one particularly disastrous episode, plans to team for a big show with a company of New York actors fell apart after Mr. Townsend had already purchased advertisements stoking public excitement and paid 60 pounds to defray the troupe’s travel costs. In an open letter to local theatre patrons that was printed in the Times, Townsend said they “have a right to know why I disappointed them last night,” that the police were now involved in sorting out this “untoward affair,” and that he felt confident “a proper estimate of the facts” would “exonerate me from blame.”
Two months after Confederation’s arrival had fuelled such optimism about Ottawa’s future, the manager of Her Majesty’s Theatre announced that he and his family would be leaving the city. The mayor and other leading citizens promptly organized a benefit at which Townsend and his family would perform two plays and collect both ticket receipts and donations to support their planned move to Southern Ontario.
The benefit, the patrons said, was arranged “in token of their appreciation” of Townsend’s “constant endeavors to cultivate the legitimate drama in the capital. . . . This being the last we shall see of the Townsend family in Ottawa, we would earnestly bespeak a full house.”
A large audience did attend, it was later reported, though bad luck continued to dog poor John Townsend. A guest actor who had consented to a special appearance in a leading role was forced to withdraw after “having had the great misfortune to lose his wife, who died yesterday.” The part was played by Townsend himself.
The family settled in Hamilton, regularly playing shows for another decade in that city while touring Southern Ontario, as well as New York and other northern states.
Townsend “deserves a place in Canadian theatre history for pioneering one of the earliest of the dozen or so Canadian-based theatre companies that dared to swim in the sea of American touring,” arts historian David Gardner has written.
The ex-parliamentarian and patriarch of the family that helped foster a love of theatre in early Canada — including Confederation-era Ottawa — died in Hamilton in 1892, “a respected, if somewhat down-and-out, teacher of acting and elocution.”
查看原文...
