Episode 5: Triumph, Tragedy and the Birth of a Legend

In this episode of Sweet Nell: The Story of Australia’s Rose, we follow Nellie Stewart through one of the most dramatic periods of her life and career. Returning to the stage after the birth of her daughter, Nellie throws herself back into touring comic opera across Australia and New Zealand, discovering a stronger voice, renewed confidence and an audience more devoted than ever.

But success is rarely simple. As Nellie and theatre impresario George Musgrove chase opportunities across London, Australia and America, ill health, financial risk and relentless touring begin to shape their lives behind the curtain. Along the way, we meet the historical Nell Gwynne of Drury Lane—an actress whose story will inspire the role that transforms Nellie’s career and earns her the nickname that will follow her forever: “Sweet Nell.”

From triumphant premieres and international tours to personal loss, earthquakes, theatrical gambles and the complicated partnership between Nellie and Musgrove, this episode reveals the fragile balance between fame and hardship in the golden age of theatre.

It’s a story of reinvention, resilience and the moment when Nellie Stewart becomes not just a star—but a legend.

Recorded on the traditional lands of the Wurundjeri Woi-wurrung and Bunurong Peoples of the Kulin Nation, written and hosted by Ali McGregor. Script editing by Maeve Marsden and musical excerpts by Matthew Floyd Jones. 

This podcast was created wth the generosity of The Frank Van Straten Fellowship, supported by ‘The Van Straten and Turley Foundation', with the help and guidance of Claudia Funder at the Australian Performing Arts Collection. Massive thanks also go to Elaine Marriner of Marriner Theatres for the initial and continued inspiration and support. 

https://www.alimcgregor.com/nellie

Transcript

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At the end of the last episode, we left Nellie, who had just returned from London with a new baby, an uncertain marital status, and a looming trepidation about returning to her home stage after a three-year break. Any fears were soon abated when she realized her voice had grown in volume and strength, which often happens after giving birth, as I can attest to. Pre-sales for the opening show of the season, her star vehicle, Dorothy, were through the roof, and gossip pages were breathlessly professing she looked lovelier than ever after time away. On opening night, the audience's reaction was such that the newspapers reported, She was overwhelmed by its warmth, and for a few moments could just speak her lines and do no more. And in the same breath, they declared her to be vastly improved and using her fine qualities to the best advantage. Although challenging, she remarks in her autobiography, I did indeed enjoy a wonderful measure of success in those strenuous days, and through it all I fed my baby working continuously, rehearsing these and other operas. She then goes on for two pages saying that the modern girl on stage doesn't work hard enough and forms nasty habits like reading trashy novels and running after trashy entertainment, which, to be honest, feels like direct shade. Amongst all of this, Nellie's partner, the theatre manager George Musgrove, has repaired his rift with JC Williamson and they're back producing hit shows together. Nellie tours their Royal Comic Opera Company around Australia and New Zealand for two years straight with barely a break. She later professes that at this time she was in better form than ever before, both vocally and emotionally, and in a delightful tone of phrase writes, that happiness is the finest of all stimulants. In late 1895, George, Nellie, and Nancy travel back to London, where Musgrove is to take over the lease of the famous Shaftesbury Theatre. As soon as they arrive, Nellie gets the first of what turns out to be chronic bronchial and vocal problems. George, desperate to lift Nellie's spirits, casts her in a small role as a page in The Scarlet Feather. Alas, her health does not improve, and by her own admission, she's not really up to form. George's brother Harry says in his memoirs that, Nellie never was at her best in London. Bright, beautiful, and hardworking as she always was, it was as if cold London weighed on her spirits and spoiled her voice. A sentiment that she shares often in her own memoirs and newspaper articles. And honestly, Nellie, I feel you. London has never got the best out of me either, and I've spent much time in England. I went to university in Manchester in the late 1990s, and then I've performed and worked there on and off since 1998. But my best work has always been in Australia. I've never blamed the air before, but maybe Nellie's on to something. While she recovers in London, Musgrove, desperate to turn their fortunes, leaves again for New York, determined to buy a hit show and bring it back to the Shaftesbury Theatre. The following is another excerpt from Harry Musgrove's memoirs. He was in London at the time, also working for the Triumvirate of producers from Australia. He tells a story of George walking into dinner, declaring that he was off to New York the next day to buy The Bell of New York. A show with moderate success on Broadway, but one that he believes will do great business in London. No other producers want a bar of it. But Musgrove puts everything on the line. The whole cast was American, chorus and all. And did it get over? Oh boy. London will seldom again see such a smashing success. It is now a matter of theatre history. But we who saw it were not thinking of history. It was the glorious present, when every shower was of gold, and when we walked on air. And wonderful to relate. When this befell us, not a soul, but George Musgrove had one penny piece interest in the play. The Bell is one of George Musgrove's greatest theatrical successes, bringing in over£37,000, which in today's money is over$8 million Australian dollars. Needless to say, he, Nellie, and Nancy now reside in a beautiful large home near London's Richmond Park and spend their time entertaining other expats like Dame Nellie Melbourne for lavish Sunday lunches. Although one would think all of this success would be bittersweet for Nellie, seeing as she's unable to take her rightful place as the lead in this theatrical smash hit, she is nothing but praise for its young star Edna May. And by all accounts, this was a happy time for the whole family. Soon, Nellie is ready to be back on stage, and she secures the principal boy role in Forty Thieves at Drury Lane. It's not lost on me that she now finds herself at the very same stage door where her mother stood when she was lured back to Australia to play a pivotal role in the formation of the Australian theatre industry in 1842. It's also the stage where her rumoured, but I'm afraid almost definitely not, ancestor, Mrs. Yates, was the leading lady in the late 1700s. It's an auspicious occasion and one that's not lost on her. Nellie's back playing the youthful and diverting principal boy role, still sprightly and showing off those fine ankles at 41, receiving very favorable reviews. She finds the work easy, with a better dressing room and earning more money than she ever made in Australia. They continue to live a jolly and prosperous life. Still, when Nellie takes her next role in another pantomime, she comes down with a debilitating bout of bronchitis on opening night, a condition that will, from this point, start to hinder her voice to a detrimental extent. But all is not lost as there is another auspicious connection to Drury Lane that piques Nellie and George's interest on this trip. And that is the story of sweet Nell Gwynne, King Charles II's mistress and a figure whose connection will become a defining one in Nellie's later years. In September 1900, the Musgrove Stewart family return once more to Melbourne with a company George has put together, the English-Italian Grand Opera Company. But there's another reason for their return. In May 1900, Nellie is served papers by a lawyer acting on behalf of Mr. Richard Rowe, the man she married in a fit of rebellion or desperation, despite her love for George. Sixteen years have passed, and although Richard Rowe describes in excruciating detail the attempts he made in the two years after their marriage to try and convince Nellie to live with him as man and wife, it's obvious that the marriage was over before it began. Although the judge seems confused by this delay, I found records that reveal Mr. Rowe had met and had a child with the woman he would like now to marry. Although I can't find a birth certificate for their firstborn, also called Richard, it seems he was born in 1996. So why they waited another four years to get this divorce and marry is beyond me. The fact that there is a blow-by-blow account of Mr. Rowe's testimony printed in the Argus and the UK papers must have caused Nellie great distress, considering the efforts she had always made to keep her personal life carefully guarded. Interestingly, when she published her autobiography in 1923, she revealed her regretted marriage as new information, so perhaps these articles didn't make much of an impact on public interest. But life moves on. Richard Goldsborough Rowe marries his sweetheart Elizabeth Heggerty and they go on to have another two children. But it's on this trip that Nelly is asked to sing an ode to Australia at the Foundation of the Commonwealth in 1901, under the baton of an actual man who is actually called Gustav Slapowski. He also often conducted Melbourne, and his wife, Madame Slapovsky, is now what I call myself after a hard day at work. But they're back in London soon after, and this is when George finally finds a way for Nellie to continue to perform on stage without being hobbled by constant vocal issues. And the vehicle for this transformation is a straight, not musical, play about the aforementioned sweet Nell of Drury Lane. Long before the golden spotlight of the 19th century stage fell on Nellie Stewart, another Nell reigned supreme at Drury Lane. Nell Gwynne, orange cellar, actress, royal mistress, rose from the clamour of the Restoration Theatre to become one of the most beloved figures in London. With her quick wit, earthy humour, and unabashed charm, she captivated audiences and caught the eye of King Charles II, who famously called her Pretty Witty Nell. But behind the laughter and lace, Nelgwyn's story is one of deft social navigation. A woman born into poverty who used her voice, beauty, and intelligence to secure a place not just in the king's court, but in the public's imagination. She walked a tightrope between scandal and affection, between power and vulnerability, in a world that delighted in her but never fully accepted her. And if you've been following Nellie Stewart's journey with me thus far, it will come as no surprise why our Nellie finds a connection to this feisty and loyal actress. Sweet Nell of Old Drury opened in Australia, here in Melbourne at the Princess Theatre on the 13th of February 1902. No one, perhaps not even Nellie herself, could have predicted just how much this role would come to define her. At first, the response was warm but not overwhelming. For a fortnight, things felt uncertain. Nellie later said, the fact was at the outset people associated me with comic opera and the singing stage, and they were quite unwilling to believe that I could possibly make success in a speaking part. And then something shifted. Word spread, crowds grew. By the third week, the theatre had packed night after night, and Melbourne had fallen head over heels for sweet name. One review beamed that every performance seemed to outdo the last. Crowded and enthusiastic attendances have been the rule, and the popularity of Miss Nellie Stewart has been amply demonstrated every night. It was official. Nell Gwynne and Nellie Stewart had become one in the public imagination. The show became a phenomenon. Her portrayal of the cheeky, charming mistress of Charles II struck a nerve, mainly because behind the wigs and gowns, people saw something more vulnerable and more real. Perhaps they saw a bit of Nellie herself. Fiercely talented, independent, navigating public adoration and private uncertainty. From this moment on, she would forever be known as Sweet Nell, and she wore the title Lack a Crown. Over the next few years, they toured Australia and New Zealand constantly with Sweet Nell and a host of other plays, including Dolores of Mice and Men and Zazar by David Belasco, who went on to write the plays Madame Butterfly and the Girl of the Golden West, both of which were turned into operas by Pacini. Nellie was earning more than she ever had in Australia,£80 a week, which is about$14,000 Australian dollars in today's money. Her career was flying. But anyone who's lived through the so-called sandwich era, where you're caught between raising your own children and caring for aging parents, knows that success can come at a strange cost. Just as Nellie was reaching a peak in her career, her personal life was hit with three devastating blows. In April 1902, her beloved father died of cancer. The grief was so overwhelming she stepped away from the stage for two weeks, a rare and telling pause. The following year, her sister died. I haven't been able to find the cause, but the loss alone is heavy enough. And this is something I know so many parents, especially those in the arts, will understand. Just when your child starts to need you less and you finally have the space to pour yourself into work again, your parents' health begins to slip away. One year later, while on a trip to London to find even more hid shows to bring back to Australia, news reached Nellie that her beloved mother, Theodosia, had died. She was ninety years old, and Nellie had been absolutely devoted to her. But at least these losses seem, in her memoirs at least, to have strengthened her love for both George and Nancy, this new little family that she's invested so much in. They take their company on an extended tour of New Zealand before deciding to make the massive investment of taking an entire company to America. They arrive in San Francisco on Christmas Day 1905. On the boat from Australia was Maestro Slapowski, a cast of 36, plus the company's own mechanics, electricians, and tech crew. Upon arrival, the unions intervene and refuse to allow George Musgrove's staff to work. Rather than send them home, he pays their wages and contracts a local crew. Despite these setbacks, the show is a resounding success, and they make plans to play across the country heading for New York. A side note, in Nellie's book, she takes a couple of pages to express her love for the amount of attention given to the arts in American newspapers while bemoaning the Australian media's preference for sport. It's good to know that her complaints in 1905 are almost precisely the same as mine 120 years later. The company proceeds south towards Oakland, leaving George to stay in San Francisco and tie up loose business. Then, at 5.12 a.m. on April 18, 1906, a 7.9 earthquake nearly destroys San Francisco. After seven tense days, while the company continues to perform in Oakland, George arrives at the theatre covered in grey dust, bedraggled and hungry, but alive. They have lost everything. A large portion of the sets are ruined in the earthquake, and with national mourning over the disaster, the theatre industry is struggling. There's no way they're going to get to New York. Add to this, the business back in Melbourne takes a turn, with Musgrove losing the lease of the Princess Theatre. George and Nellie find themselves in such dire straits that Nellie has to sell off all her jewellery, everything except her precious bangle, of course. And they sail for London with Nancy and Slap, as Maestro Slapowski is now delightfully referred to in her memoirs. Over the next few years, George and Nellie kept on hustling and never did anything by halves. Their next venture was to bring Wagner's Divalkuver to Australia for the first time. After having terrible trouble getting permission and a deal via Wagner's somewhat hardcore widow Cosima, the carefully selected cast and overflowing orchestra led by Slap opened to thunderous applause in a standing room only performance that saw people spilling out onto the street to hear the music. This, for many of George Musgrove's ventures, ends somehow in disappointment, this time with infighting between the cast proving too much to manage. By this time, 16-year-old Nancy Stewart was at boarding school in Switzerland, and Nellie went there to visit her beloved daughter, whom she always referred to as My Girlie. She's torn between these two great loves of hers and is worried about the level of stress George is going through. This seems like a disjointed time for this devoted couple. George and JC Williamson are yet again disagreeing in business affairs. While Musgrove is in Australia, JCW offers Nellie a role that would see her working for him instead of her partner. Torn and unable to get in touch with George in time, she declines. Although not poor, I mean Nancy is at a Swiss finishing school, they're not wealthy. And, as you are only as good as your last show, they are getting desperate to change their fortunes. Masgrove seems distant, but eventually wires London, telling Nellie to secure the rights to Pacini's new opera, La Fantula del West. But when she gets to the office, JCW has already got there before her. In desperation, she makes a rash decision to secure another show, Sweet Kitty of Bel-Airs. By the same writer, American David Belasco, it was a huge hit in New York, but had failed in London. But Nellie believes it was miscast, so she sets about assembling a cast and creative team, and to her delight, it becomes a massive hit. At the same time, Fantula, itself an adaptation of Belasco's play Girl of the Golden West, is a dismal failure. But the fleeting nature of popular culture now sees the Girl of Golden West performed in many opera houses around the world, yet I have never seen Sweet Kitty of Bel Airs. On Saturday, 10th of April 1909 at Mowen's Princess Theatre, people queue up so early in the day that Nellie feels compelled to send them tea and scones for their weight, requesting that the doors open early to accommodate them. An hour later, the house is packed, and on her first entrance, she not only receives an astanding ovation, but flowers are lowered down with love of the gallery girls. Seemingly the founding ceremony of what would later become Gladys Moncrief's loyal and well-organised fan base, and essentially a foremother of modern-day fangirl message groups. Her success is a relief, but while she's in London, George has had a stroke and lost the use of his left arm. So Nellie and Nancy pack up and come home. This begins a time of constant ill health for George and financial struggles for the pair as a result, with each of Nellie's successes being followed by greater sadness and financial loss. Nellie is back in Sydney at the house that George built for her, Mel O'Gwyn, when her world abruptly ends, when she finds George unresponsive at the age of 62, sitting in his favourite garden chair on January 22nd, 1916. Nellie and George, although living unconventionally, were utterly devoted to each other, partners in life and work. She writes to a friend a year and a half later, The void in my life is unbearable. I shall never recover from it. In the next and final episode of this podcast, we will learn what Nellie does next. Does she manage to exist without her lover, and what will her legacy be? Maybe we'll get some answers about why this legacy has been largely forgotten. And maybe this will alleve my own fear that all of this, she gestures wildly, to her own career and that of her contemporaries, is just something to be discarded and easily forgotten. Or maybe it will convince me that it is the living that really matters. The forgetting is inevitable. I'm Allie McGregor, and you've been listening to Sweet Mel. Recorded on the lands of the Wunderian Bunnerong people, this podcast was recorded and edited and written by myself with script editing by Maeve Marsden and all the incidental music played by Matthew Floyd Jones. I'll see you next time.