It has always appeared to me to be a remarkable circumstance that many
actors and actresses who have been great favourites in the metropolis,
have not stood in the same light with the Liverpool audiences. I have
seen, occasionally, some remarkable instances of this. Dowton, a great
actor, never drew; James Wallack never attracted large audiences. I have
seen the whole Adelphi company--including Frederick Yates, his charming
wife, Paul Bedford, John Reeve, O. Smith, and others--fail to draw; in
fact at one engagement they played night after night to almost empty
benches. This was, I think, in 1838. I recollect, on one occasion,
Yates seeing a band-box on the stage, went up to it and gave it a kick,
and looking significantly at the state of the house, exclaimed, "Get out
of my sight--I hate empty boxes!"

Vandenhoff was always a great favourite with the Liverpool audiences.
There was a tremendous row once got up at the Theatre Royal, in which he
was concerned. About 1825, I think, Vandenhoff went to try his fortune
on the London stage, and there, if he did not altogether fail, he did not
succeed commensurate with his great expectations; and after knocking
about at several theatres, playing, I believe, at some of the minors--the
Surrey, Coburg, and Sadler's Wells--he came back to Liverpool, where a
Mr. Salter had taken up the position he had vacated. A strong move by
Mr. Vandenhoff's friends was made to reinstate him on the Liverpool
Tragic Throne. This Mr. Salter's friends would not allow. The
consequence was that several noisy demonstrations took place on both
sides, and considerable confusion was created during the time the row was
kept up. To show to what length things went, I may just mention that
placards were freely exhibited in the theatre bearing the sentiments on
them of the particular side which exhibited them. I recollect one caused
great fun and laughter. It was headed "Vandenhoff" and "Salter-off."

Kean thought highly of Vandenhoff. I have seen a letter of his in which
he highly extols him, considering his style to be the purest acting since
the retirement of John Kemble.

In the autumn of 1824, there was a great row at the Theatre Royal, which
was excited in favour of Miss Cramer, a most popular and able vocalist.
At that time the Music Hall in Bold-street had just been opened, and
concerts were being given under the management of Mr. Wilson, the dancing
master, whose niece by the way (Miss