New Albion

London, 1845

“Equilibrium has been reached again, at least with the acting company on the good ship Albion.” – New Alibon, pg. 87

“‘No! No!’ cried Mrs. Wilton... ‘My daughter is with child!’… Every woman in turn was made to promise that this business would remain extremely confidential, whereupon Mrs. Wilton returned to her former self and began ordering her dresser about… Apparently, the oath of confidentiality had been sworn with fingers crossed. The rest of the company was happily jabbering about it a quarter of an hour later as they left the theatre. Nothing is confidential at the New Albion.” – New Albion

“Mr. Hicks was ivre during last night’s performance of Crosby Ravensworth. To make matters worse, the Lord Mayor was in attendance with his wife. After the performance, some of the leading actors were escorted to their private box...where Mr. Hicks bellowed a few lines of Shakespeare, something about women trotting, ambling, and lisping, and then clasped the Lord Mayor’s wife to him and kissed her ardently upon the lips.” – New Albion

“I confess to being half in love with Fanny Hardwick. It is a doomed love and an exquisite love... I am forty-two, she is probably twenty. I have watched her leave the theatre, late in the evening, escorted by a handsome-looking young man in evening attire, a young man she has never bothered to introduce to me or to any of the denizens of the New Albion. She lives on the edge of a mystery for me and for others. Who is she, and where does she come from?” – New Albion, p 53

“The new apprentice arrived today. I begin to fear for Harlequin and Columbine and for all the rest of us who would endeavor to create a pantomime upon this stage. He is not a very prepossessing young man. Less than fiveand-a-half feet tall and narrow as the railings on my front step, he has a criminally low forehead and a lean and hungry look. Like Shakespeare, I can never quite find it within myself to trust a man with such abominable physiognomy.” – New Albion, pg. 32

“‘Mr. Farquhar Pratt has proven himself a liability as a playwright as well as an actor.’ ‘He may yet turn things around,’ I replied. ‘He is not without some wisdom in his lucid moments.’ ‘He cannot live much longer at this rate,’ Mr. Wilton said. ‘Have you looked into his eyes?’ ‘I have assumed that the yellowing of Mr. Farquhar Pratt’s eyeballs has more to do with his laudanum habit than with advancing old age.’” – New Albion, pg. 17-18

“I do not abuse myself with the notion that my scribblings in this diary will outlive me. It is enough that I use the time and the ink to organize my own thoughts. To that end, I will restrict myself mostly to the complicated inner workings of one of London’s minor theatres, the theatre to which I am attached, the New Albion. Nevertheless, I hope that my older self, when he reads the contents herein, will forgive me for the odd entry about my domestic circumstances.” – New Albion, pg. 6

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Dwayne Brenna, author of New Albion

Cover art for New Albion by Dwayne Brenna