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THE   LIFE   OF   HENRY   IRVING 


Photo:  Lock  and  Whitfield,  London. 

HENRY  IRVING  IN  1878. 


THE    LIFE    OF 


HENRY     IRVING 


AUSTIN    BRERETON 


VOL.  I. 

WITH  TWELVE   COLLOTYPE  PLATES 
AND    ELEVEN    OTHER    ILLUSTRATIONS 


LONGMANS,  GREEN,  AND  CO. 

39   PATERNOSTER   ROW,   LONDON 

NEW  YORK,    BOMBAY,   AND    CALCUTTA 

1908 


PREFACE. 


As  this  book  tells  the  story  of  the  life  of  Henry  Irving,  it 
follows  that,  in  regard  to  the  author,  it  is  almost  entirely 
impersonal.  So  that  a  few  words  of  explanation  and  ac- 
knowledgment may  be  permitted  by  way  of  preface  to  the 
actual  narrative.  In  writing  this  book,  I  have  assumed  the 
position  of  a  third  person.  That  is  to  say,  I  have  en- 
deavoured to  view  the  subject  from  an  independent  point 
of  view.  In  other  words,  I  have  tried  to  relate  the  career 
of  the  man  and  the  actor  as  it  really  was.  I  have  in- 
variably held  myself  aloof  and  have  allowed  the  story  to 
tell  itself.  This  attitude  could  not  have  been  adopted  had 
I  not  possessed  certain  qualifications  for  the  work.  The 
first  of  these  qualifications,  I  take  it,  is  my  sympathy  for  the 
man  and  my  admiration  for  the  artist.  It  is  no  mere  figure 
of  speech  to  say  that  this  book  is  the  result  of  a  labour  of 
love.  It  is  that,  at  least.  Irving  was  my  constant  friend  for 
twenty-five  years.  His  friendship  never  wavered  in  all 
those  years,  and  it  deepened  with  time.  If  I  have  nothing 
else  to  be  thankful  for,  I  should  ever  hold  it,  as  a  proud  and 
blessed  memory,  that,  in  the  closing  years  of  his  life,  so  good 
and  so  great  a  man,  and  one  a  score  of  years  or  so  my  elder, 
could  wear  me  in  his  heart. 

But  something  more  than  sympathy  and  admiration  are 
required  for  a  biographer.  This  book  is  not  a  panegyric. 
Irving  would  have  hated  any  such  thing,  and  I  possess,  if 


vi  PREFACE 

I  may  be  allowed  to  say  so,  too  much  knowledge  of  my 
subject  to  permit  me  to  indulge  in  any  mere  effort  of  eulogy. 
I  am  old  enough  to  remember  Irving  in  the  heyday  of  his 
success,  and  as  a  writer,  either  as  critic  or  journalist,  it  was 
my  privilege  to  see  him  many  times  and  in  many  places. 
Soon  after  taking  up  my  abode  in  London,  on  the  completion 
of  my  nineteenth  year,  be  it  said,  I  became  intimately  as- 
sociated with  Clement  Scott,  first  of  all  as  his  private 
secretary  and  then  as  assistant-editor  of  his  magazine,  the 
Theatre.  In  this  way,  and  as  I  was  also  the  dramatic  critic 
of  the  Stage,  then  beginning  its  useful  career,  my  knowledge 
of  the  theatrical  world  became  extensive  and  valuable.  I 
was  one  of  the  first  people  to  be  informed  of  Irving's  decision 
to  visit  America,  and  I  forthwith  proposed  to  write  a  bio- 
graphy of  the  actor  dealing  with  his  career  up  to  that  year— 
1883.  He  gave  his  hearty  encouragement  to  the  youth  of 
twenty-one,  with  the  result  that  "  Henry  Irving  :  A  Bio- 
graphical Sketch  "  contained  much  information  then  new  to 
the  public.  Twenty  years  later,  it  fell  out  that  I  wrote  the 
history  of  the  Lyceum  from  its  origin  down  to  the  end  of 
Henry  Irving's  management  of  the  house.  Again  in  1903, 
as  in  1883,  he  took  a  keen  interest  in  the  work,  and  he 
annotated  many  of  its  pages.  While  the  book  was  in  progress, 
he  suggested  that  all  biographical  matter,  excepting  that 
dealing  strictly  with  the  Lyceum,  should  be  cut  out,  as  being 
unnecessary  to  the  book  and  detrimental  to  the  interests  of  a 
biography  which  he  knew  I  intended  to  write  at  the  termina- 
tion of  his  career,  a  proposal  in  which  I  acquiesced  with 
alacrity.  Thus,  in  1883  and  in  1903,  did  I  receive  much 
information  from  the  fountain-head.  But  more  was  to  follow. 
From  the  summer  of  1898,  I  acted  for  Henry  Irving  in  an 
official  and  confidential  capacity.  He  found  it  necessary,  for 
divers  specific  reasons,  to  have  his  interests  guarded,  in 
certain  directions,  in  the  newspaper  world,  and  I  was  his  trusted 
representative  in  these  matters.  From  this  time  until  his 
death,  he  told  me  much  of  his  life's  story,  and  sent  me  many 


PREFACE  vii 

letters  containing  valuable  notes  and  suggestions  in  regard 
to  his  career. 

In  these  circumstances,  I  was  not  greatly  perturbed  when 
the  tragic  death  of  the  actor  caused  a  flood  of  biographical 
material  to  pour  forth  from  the  press.  In  regard  to  the 
various  books  which  have  lived  through  the  intervening 
years,  that  by  Bram  Stoker  has  won  a  well-merited  popularity. 
It  is  full  of  entertaining  gossip  and  reminiscence.  On  the 
other  hand,  it  does  not  pretend  to  be  a  biography.  Mr. 
Stoker,  indeed,  expressly  says  that  his  book  is  not  to  be 
regarded  in  that  light,  and  in  no  instance  have  I  had  re- 
course to  its  pages  for  a  fact,  a  date,  or  an  incident.  Curiously 
enough,  however,  Mr.  Stoker  has,  unconsciously,  been  of 
considerable  assistance  to  me.  He  took  a  deep  interest  in 
an  Irving  memorial  which  was  formed,  during  several  years, 
by  his  friend,  Mr.  E.  W.  Hennell.  To  this  memorial — which 
consists  of  old  play-bills,  autograph  letters,  portraits,  pro- 
grammes, and  printed  matter  of  all  sorts — Mr.  Stoker  was  a 
generous  contributor.  In  due  course,  this  large  collection, 
containing  some  two  or  three  thousand  inlaid  sheets,  passed 
into  the  possession  of  my  friend,  Mr.  Merton  Russell  Cotes, 
who  made  me  a  welcome  guest  at  East  Cliff  Hall,  Bourne- 
mouth, and  through  whose  kindness  I  gathered  many  useful 
and  interesting  items.  I  have  also  to  thank  Mr.  Cotes  for 
his  permission  to  copy  the  picture  of  Irving  as  Charles  the 
First,  which  helps  to  adorn  these  pages. 

And  this  reminds  me  that  my  indebtedness  in  other 
quarters  is  so  large  that  I  am  doubtful  of  ever  repaying  it. 
I  must,  however,  express  my  most  cordial  thanks  to  the 
members  of  Sir  Henry  Irving's  family  for  their  willing  help. 
I  am  deeply  obliged  to  Lady  Irving  for  having  given  me  the 
particulars  of  her  marriage  :  I  thought  it  best  to  obtain  the 
necessary  facts  from  so  reliable  a  source.  Lady  Irving 
responded  with  readiness  to  my  request,  and  her  courteous 
response  makes  me  her  debtor.  Her  sons,  also,  gave  me 
considerable,  I  may  say,  invaluable  help  in  writing  the  Life 


x  PREFACE 

Edward  Plumbridge,  and  of  the  friend  of  his  youth,  Charles 
Dyall.  Through  it,  I  have  had  many  delightful  conversa- 
tions with  the  friend  of  Irving's  Edinburgh  days  and  his  friend 
and  stage-manager  for  nearly  twenty-eight  years — Harry  J. 
Loveday,  whose  affectionate  remembrance  has  touched  me 
deeply.  To  the  widows  and  children  of  two  other  loyal 
officers  of  "the  chief,"  Louis  Frederick  Austin  and  Charles 
E.  Howson,  I  must  also  express  my  thanks  for  having  lent 
me  many  documents  of  interest.  Another  friend,  Alfred 
Darbyshire,  who  helped  me  in  regard  to  details  concerning 
Irving's  career  in  Manchester,  unfortunately  passed  away  a 
few  weeks  ago.  Mr.  William  Crooke,  of  Edinburgh,  has, 
I  consider,  placed  me  under  a  lasting  obligation  by  giving 
me  permission  to  use  the  beautiful  portrait,  hitherto  un- 
published, which  forms  the  frontispiece  to  the  second  volume. 
It  is  an  exquisite  picture  in  itself,  but  all  the  more  interesting 
because  the  expression  is  so  absolutely  lifelike.  I  cannot 
thank,  by  name,  all  the  other  people  who  have  aided  me  in 
my  efforts,  but,  in  one  way  or  another,  I  am  particularly  in- 
debted to  Mr.  Harry  Chevalier,  Mr.  Arthur  Collins,  Mr. 
Burnham  W.  Horner,  Mr.  W.  J.  Lawrence,  Mr.  J.  H. 
Leigh,  Sir  Edward  Letchworth,  Sir  A.  C.  Mackenzie,  Mr. 
Austin  Gates,  and  Mr.  A.  W.  Pinero ;  to  one  and  all  I 
tender  my  grateful  thanks.  Finally,  my  sincere  thanks  are 
due  to  my  friend,  Mr.  Nicol  Dunn,  who  read  the  first  proofs 
and  frequently  encouraged  me  in  my  work  by  his  sympathetic 
verdict.  At  the  same  time,  as  Mr.  Dunn  only  read  the 
"  rough "  proofs,  I  must  take  upon  my  own  shoulders  any 
technical  errors,  which  I  have  striven  hard  to  avoid,  but 
which  may,  despite  my  pains,  have  crept  in.  Should  there 
be  any  such,  I  shall  take  it  as  a  favour  if  I  am  informed  of 
them. 

In  conclusion,  I  am  fain  to  quote  some  words  spoken  by 
Henry  Irving,  in  Edinburgh,  in  1883  : — 

"  What  acknowledgment  can  I  make  to  you  of  the  Pen 
and  Pencil  to-night  ?  The  best  would,  of  course,  be  to  say 


PREFACE 


XI 


'  I  am  proud  of  being  a  Scotchman  ! '  But,  alas  !  no  possible 
miracle  of  genealogy  can  make  me  anything  but  a  degenerate 
Southron.  However,  there  is  one  consolation.  I  am  told 
that  some  one  has  done  me  the  honour  of  writing  my  life. 
He  had  much  better,  I  think,  have  waited  until  I  was  dead, 
and  then  anything  unpleasant  which  he  might  have  to  say 
would  not  have  mattered  so  much  ;  but  when  I  tell  you  that, 
although  neither  the  author  nor  the  subject  of  this  biography 
is  Scotch,  yet  that  the  printers  are  Scotchmen,  you  will 
readily  see  that  this  is  a  work  which  must  be  read." 

History  repeats  itself,  and  a  remark,  uttered  in  a  merry 
moment,  comes  strangely  into  fulfilment.  A  quarter  of  a 
century  has  passed,  and  I  have  again,  for  the  last  time,  as 
in  1883  it  was  for  the  first,  written  the  biography  of  Henry 
Irving  ;  and  again,  I  may  say,  the  same  observation  applies 
to  the  printers.  My  great  friend  is  dead,  but  his  memory 
lives.  I  trust  that  my  tribute  to  that  memory  will  be  con- 
sidered worthy  of  the  trust  which  has  been  reposed  in  me. 


AUSTIN  BRERETON. 


September,   1908. 


CONTENTS   OF  VOL.  I. 


CHAPTER  I. 


PAGE 


1838-1856 


The  birthplace  of  the  actor — His  parentage — His  early  recollections— His  remem- 
brance of  Bristol — His  mother — His  life  in  Cornwall — His  reminiscences  of  his 
boyhood — His  school-life  in  London — Those  times  described  by  the  friend  of  his 
boyhood — Serves  in  various  offices  in  the  city — His  kind  remembrances  of  those 
days — Joins  the  City  Elocution  Class — Described  by  his  companion  in  the  class — 
His  own  recollections  of  a  performance  at  the  Soho  Theatre — Visits  Sadler's 
Wells  and  the  Adelphi — Studies  under  William  Hoskins — Encouragement  from 
Samuel  Phelps— Exit,  Brodribb. 


CHAPTER  II. 


1856-1859   . 


Enter,  Henry  Irving— His  study  of  fencing— Purchase  of  "  properties  "—Sets  out  for 
Sunderland — His  first  appearance  on  the  stage — His  extreme  nervousness — 
Advised  to  return  to  London — Begins  a  long  engagement  in  Edinburgh — Criti- 
cised, but  encouraged,  by  the  press — Praised  for  his  attention  to  details — 
Always  letter-perfect — Acts  with  various  "stars" — Cloten  to  Helen  Faucit's 
Imogen— Beaus^ant  in  "The  Lady  of  Lyons "— Venoma,  a  spiteful  fairy— 
"Frizzling  and  grizzling" — Cyril  Baliol,  a  successful  impersonation — Irving  in 
burlesque — Plays  Claude  Melnotte  for  his  benefit — His  first  speech — Leaves 
Edinburgh  for  London. 


CHAPTER  III. 
1859-1863    

Irving's  first  appearance  in  London — His  great  disappointment — Succeeds  in  getting 
released  from  his  engagement — Reads  from  "  The  Lady  of  Lyons  "  and  "  Vir- 
ginius  "  at  Crosby  Hall — Favourable  verdict  of  the  London  press — Replaces  an 
old  favourite  in  Dublin— Hissed  and  hooted  at  for  three  weeks— The  sequel- 
Plays  in  Glasgow  and  Greenock— Macduff—  Manchester— Adolphe  in  "The 
Spy  " — The  amatory  alchymist — His  walk  and  elocution — Instructive  criticisms 
in  the  Manchester  papers — Makes  a  success  as  Mr.  Dombey — Acts  with  Edwin 
Booth— His  Claude  Melnotte— The  Titan  Club— Thyrsites— Irving's  first  story 
— His  remembrance  of  a  kind  deed. 


37 


xiv  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

CHAPTER  IV. 
1864-1865    .  .       53 

Still  in  Manchester— Mercutio— Hamlet  after  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence— Hamlet  in  real 
earnest — Criticisms  on  the  performance — Joseph,  in  "  Deborah" — Hamlet  again, 
Bob  Brierley,  the  Lancashire  lad — At  Oxford — An  encouraging  criticism — His 
reminiscences  of  Manchester— Playing  before  the  pantomime— His  Robert 
Macaire — Exposes  the  Davenport  Brothers — His  amusing  speech  and  great 
success — Leaves  the  Theatre  Royal — At  the  Prince's  Theatre — Claudio,  Edmund, 
and  the  Due  de  Nemours— More  reminiscences  of  Manchester— His  tribute  to 
Charles  Calvert. 


CHAPTER  V. 
1865-1866 69 

Edinburgh  again — Robert  Macaire — A  friendly  criticism  and  a  prophecy — Hamlet  at 
Bury — lago  and  Macduff  at  Oxford — Plays  with  Fechter  in  Birmingham — His 
poverty  there — Liverpool,  and  the  Isle  of  Man — Liverpool  again — Amusing 
criticisms — A  "  sterling  actor  " — Praise  from  the  Porcupine — His  Robert  Macaire 
favourably  received — Supports  J.  L.  Toole  in  the  provinces — John  Peerybingle — 
His  reminiscences  of  Liverpool — Acts  Rawdon  Scudamore — Receives  three  offers 
from  London  in  consequence — The  Ghost,  Bob  Brierley,  and  Fouche" — Leaves 
the  north  for  London,  having  acted  five  hundred  and  eighty-eight  parts  during 
his  apprenticeship  to  the  stage. 


CHAPTER  VI. 
1866-1867 79 

Irving  begins  his  London  career — Stage-manager,  as  well  as  actor,  at  the  St.  James's 
— Doricourt — His  success  in  "  The  Belle's  Stratagem  " — The  friendship  of  Charles 
Mathews — Rawdon  Scudamore — Irving's  accuracy  in  costume — "The  Road  to 
Ruin,"  and  other  plays — Joseph  Surface — Robert  Macaire — Plays  in  Paris  with 
Sothern — On  tour  with  Miss  Herbert — Liverpool  praises  him — Leaves  the  St. 
James's — Engaged  at  the  Queen's  Theatre,  Long  Acre — His  Petruchio  severely 
criticised — Miss  Ellen  Terry's  reminiscence  of  this  early  meeting. 


CHAPTER  VII. 
1868-1871 89 

Irving  recognised  as  an  impersonator  of  villains — His  Bob  Gassitt,  Bill  Sikes,  and 
Robert  Redburn — Dickens  prophecies  that  he  will  become  ' '  a  great  actor " — 
Plays  the  hero  for  a  change — Various  characters — On  tour  with  Toole — An  un- 
successful engagement  at  the  Haymarket — His  marriage — Acts  in  "Formosa" 
at  Drury  Lane — Gives  a  recital  at  Bayswater — Mr.  Chevenix  at  the  Gaiety — 
More  praise  from  Dickens — Digby  Grant  in  "  Two  Roses  " — A  great  success  in 
London  and  the  provinces — Recognised  as  an  actor  who  could  create — Recites 
"  The  Dream  of  Eugene  Aram  " — And  makes  a  wonderful  impression. 


CONTENTS  xv 


PAGE 

CHAPTER  VIII. 


1871-1872 .         .108 


A  deserted  theatre — The  Lyceum  taken  in  order  to  exploit  Miss  Isabel  Bateman — 
Irving  becomes  a  member  of  the  company — His  own  story  of  the  engagement — • 
The  failure  of  "  Fanchette  " — Alfred  Jingle — A  personal  triumph — "  The  Bells  " 
— Irving  insists  on  its  production — The  manager  gives  way — London  rings  with 
Irving's  great  impersonation  of  Mathias — Unanimity  of  the  Press — "Commenda- 
tory Criticisms" — The  Times  and  other  papers  write  in  appreciation — "The 
Bells"  acted  for  one  hundred  and  fifty-one  consecutive  nights — The  London 
verdict  endorsed  by  the  Provinces — Irving's  Jeremy  Diddler  described. 


CHAPTER  IX. 
[872-1873 128 

Charles  the  First"  produced— "A  very  awkward  lump  in  the  throat"  for  the 
Standard — Controversy  about  the  character  of  Cromwell — Irving's  impersonation 
of  the  king  extolled  on  all  sides — The  author's  defence — The  play  published — The 
Spectator  eulogises  Irving's  impersonation — The  Prince  and  Princess  of  Wales 
witness  "Charles  the  First"  —  Extraordinary  scenes  in  consequence  —  Irving 
appears  as  Eugene  Aram — Another  personal  success — More  critical  eulogy — 
Especially  from  the  Spectator — End  of  Irving's  second  season  at  the  Lyceum — 
Remarkable  enthusiasm — Plays  "Charles  the  First "  on  tour. 

CHAPTER  X. 

1873-1874    .  .         .     148 

"  Richelieu"  at  the  Lyceum — Irving  compared  with  Macready  in  the  character — John 
Oxenford's  great  praise — "  Tragic  acting  in  the  grandest  style  " — The  Standard 
eulogises  Irving's  Richelieu — The  drama  acted  for  over  four  months  at  the  Lyceum 
— The  young  critics,  Dutton  Cook  and  Clement  Scott,  dissent  from  the  general 
praise — An  old-fashioned  "slating" — Illness  of  Irving's  father — His  death — 
Production  of  "Philip" — The  Globe  on  Irving's  position — "Charles  the  First" 
revived — Irving  plays  Eugene  Aram  and  Jeremy  Diddler  for  his  benefit. 

CHAPTER  XI. 
1874-1875    .  166 

Irving's  first  appearance  in  London  as  Hamlet — Melancholy  forebodings  not  justified — 
The  poor  scenery  for  this  revival  of  "  Hamlet" — The  Lyceum  pit — Irving's  feel- 
ings on  the  first  night — An  "electrical "  effect  on  the  audience — Clement  Scott's 
vivid  description — The  hundredth  representation — A  pleasant  supper — Irving's 
success  influences  other  managers  —  Death  of  "Colonel"  Bateman  —  Irving's 
tribute  to  his  old  manager — Tennyson  and  Frith  on  Irving's  Hamlet — Sir  Edward 
Russell's  essay  on  Irving  as  Hamlet. 

CHAPTER  XII. 
1875-1876 186 

"Macbeth  "  revived — It  brings  in  its  train  a  series  of  severe  criticisms — Castigation  by 
the  Figaro — Irving's  conception  of  the  part — His  impersonation  endorsed  by  the 
Times— Praise  from  other  quarters— A  "scurrilous  libel  "—Letter  to  "  A  Fashion- 
able Tragedian  " — The  defendants  summoned — They  apologise  in  open  court — 
Irving  accepts  their  apology— At  his  request,  the  case  is  not  sent  for  trial— 
"Macbeth"  played  for  eighty  nights— Literary  effect  of  the  revival. 


xvi  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

CHAPTER   XIII. 

1876-1877    .  .  199 

"  Othello  "  revived — Salvini's  rendering  of  the  character — Severe  criticism  on  Irving's 
impersonation — Even  his  costume  offends — Gladstone  introduces  himself  to 
Irving — "  Queen  Mary  "  produced — A  ' '  family  play  " — Irving's  success  stimulates 
theatrical  enterprise — He  reads  a  paper  on  Amusements  at  Shoreditch — A  busy 
month — Helen  Faucit  acts  lolanthe  for  Irving's  benefit — A  triumphal  tour — 
Honours  in  Dublin — Reappears  in  London  as  Macbeth — "  Richard  III." 
revived — His  rooms  in  Grafton  Street  described. 

CHAPTER    XIV. 

1877  .  .  .        220 

Irving  contributes  to  the  Nineteenth  Century — His  preface  to  "  Richard  III." — He 
receives  various  souvenirs — Mr.  H.  J.  Loveday  joins  the  Lyceum — "  The  Lyons 
Mail" — A  reading  in  Dublin — Other  events — The  Prince  and  Princess  of  Wales 
see  "  The  Lyons  Mail" — Their  verdict  on  Irving's  acting  in  this  play — A  long 
provincial  tour — "  The  Fashionable  Tragedian  " — A  scurrilous  pamphlet — 
Causes  Irving  to  be  misrepresented — His  explanation  and  views  on  the  subject — 
Account  of  Irving's  initiation  into,  and  connection  with,  Freemasonry. 

CHAPTER  XV. 

1878  ...  .235 

Irving  acts  Louis  XI.  for  the  first  time — Charles  Kean  in  the  character — Irving's 
complete  success — Indifferent  support — Farces  still  popular — "  Vanderdecken  " 
produced — A  personal  success — "  The  Bells  "  and  Jingle  again — Unsatisfactory 
conditions — Mrs.  Bateman  resigns — Her  tribute  to  Irving — Contributions  to 
the  Nineteenth  Century — Delivers  an  address  at  the  Perry  Bar  Institute — 
Lays  the  foundation  stone  of  Harborne  and  Edgbaston  Institution — Gives  a 
reading  at  Northampton — Presented  with  addresses — Reads  and  recites  at 
Belfast  in  aid  of  a  charity. 

CHAPTER    XVI. 

1878   .         .  .  .  .253 

A  triumphal  tour — Praise  from  Liverpool  and  Dublin — A  speech  in  Dublin— Man- 
chester recognises  the  beauty  of  his  Hamlet — And  extols  his  Richelieu — Sheffield 
braves  the  wind  and  the  wet — Irving's  views  on  a  National  Theatre  set  forth — 
Gives  readings  in  Edinburgh  and  Glasgow  in  aid  of  the  sufferers  by  the  failure 
of  the  City  of  Glasgow  Bank — Letter  from  him  in  regard  to  America — "  Becket  " 
being  written  for  him — Death  of  old  friends — Evil  prognostications — His  policy 
for  the  future  of  the  Lyceum  outlined — Miss  Ellen  Terry  engaged  for  the 
Lyceum — Her  career  up  to  this  period. 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
3oth  December,  1878- August,  1879        .         .         .         .         .         .267 

Henry  Irving  inaugurates  his  management  of  the  Lyceum — The  Preface  to 
"Hamlet" — Letters  to  Frank  Marshall — Some  reminiscences — Irving's  friends 
— His  company  and  lieutenants — Monday,  3oth  December,  1878 — A  great  night 
—Fees  abolished— The  theatre  altered  and  redecorated— Enthusiasm  of  the 
audience  and  of  the  Press— Miss  Ellen  Terry's  Ophelia— The  Hamlet  of  1878— 
The  literary  interest  of  the  revival — "To  produce  the  '  Hamlet '  of  to-night,  I 
have  worked  all  my  life"— Benefit  to  an  old  actor— "  The  Lady  of  Lyons" 
revived — Other  revivals — A  remarkable  proof  of  versatility — Irving's  speech  on 
the  last  night  of  the  season— Opinions  of  French  writers— Irving's  fine  hands- 
Courtesy  to  Sarah  Bernhardt— More  reminiscences— A  well-won  holiday. 


CONTENTS 


xvn 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


2oth  September,  1879-3  ist  Juty> 

Money  paid  for  unproduced  plays  —  Mr.  A.  W.   Pinero's  first  piece  —  "  The  Iron 
Chest"  revived  —  Irving's  impersonation  praised  —  His  speech  on  the  first  night 

—  Preparations  for  "The  Merchant  of  Venice"  —  Small  amount  expended  on 
scenery  —  "This  is  the  happiest  moment  of  my  life"  —  Irving's  own  statement 
regarding  the  scenery  —  His  interpretation  of  Shylock  in  1879  eulogised  by  the 
Spectator  —  The  leading  critics  of  the  day  write  in  praise  —  An  "unobtrusive" 
background  —  Illness  of  Miss  Ellen  Terry  —  A  feeble  outcry  —  Ruskin  incensed  — 
The  hundredth  night  —  A  wonderful  transformation  —  Distinguished  guests  —  Lord 
Houghton  surprises  his  hearers  —  Irving's  humorous  reply  —  An  act  of  generosity 

—  "  lolanthe"  —  Irving's  speech  on  the  last  night  of  the  season  —  The  receipt-. 


PAGE 


296 


CHAPTER  XIX. 
1 8th  September,  1880-2 9th  July,  1881 

Mr.  Pinero's  "  Bygones  " — Favourable  comment — "  The  Corsican  Brothers  "  revived 
— Introduction  of  the  souvenir — "The  Cup"  in  preparation — Tennyson  and 
"  Becket  " — Cost  of  production  of  "  The  Cup" — A  notable  audience — Camma 
and  Synorix — "The  Belle's  Stratagem"  revived — Edwin  Booth  at  the  Lyceum 
— The  true  story  of  this  engagement — Booth's  testimony — Also,  William  Winter's 
— Booth's  tribute  to  Irving — Various  revivals — Irving  as  Modus — His  speech  on 
the  last  night  of  the  season — Takes  the  chair  at  the  Theatrical  Fund  Dinner — A 
satirical  speech — Interesting  reminiscences. 


322 


CHAPTER    XX. 
5th  September,  i88i-June,  1882 

A  triumphal  tour — Enormous  receipts — Manchester  extols  Irving's  Shylock — An 
address  in  Edinburgh— "  The  Stage  as  It  Is  "—Alterations  at  the  Lyceum— 
' '  Mr.  Irving  is  above  advertising  himself " — Amusing  skit  in  Punch — The 
reopening  of  the  Lyceum— Great  demand  for  seats— The  revival  of  "Two 
Roses" — Irving's  Digby  Grant  "  had  improved  with  keeping" — "Romeo  and 
Juliet "  revived — Irving's  Preface  and  restoration— The  Prince  and  Princess  of 
Wales  present  on  the  first  night— Irving  acts  Shylock  at  the  Savoy  Theatre— 
The  looth  night  of  "  Romeo  and  Juliet" — Lord  Lytton's  tribute. 


343 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

June,  1 882- nth  October,  1883     . 


•     361 


Master  Harry  and  Master  Laurence  Irving— The  success  of  "Romeo  and  Juliet" 
— 161  performances  and  a  profit  of  ,£10,000 — A  reading  of  "  Much  Ado" — A 
remarkable  speech—"  Much  Ado  about  Nothing"  revived — Its  wonderful  success 
— 212  consecutive  performances  and  a  profit  of  ,£26,000 — An  enthusiastic 
audience  —  Irving's  valedictory  speech  — Some  interesting  figures  —  Farewell 
banquet  in  St.  James's  Hall— Lord  Coleridge's  eloquent  tribute— Farewell  visits 
to  Glasgow,  Edinburgh,  and  Liverpool— Speech  at  the  Edinburgh  Pen  and  Pencil 
Club— Farewell  speech  in  Liverpool— Sails  for  America. 

Bibliography  to  the  end  of  1883     . 


VOL.  I. 


ILLUSTRATIONS   FOR  VOL.  I. 

FULL-PAGE  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Henry  Irving  in  1878     .         .         .         .         .          .         .  Frontispiece 

From  a  photograph  by  Lock  fir5  Whitfield,  London. 

The  Birthplace  of  Henry  Irving      .  ...    To  face  page     2 

From  a  photograph. 

Botolph  Lane        ........  ,,  10 

From  a 


Henry  Irving  in  1866     .......  .,  76 

From  a  photograph. 

Alfred  Jingle „  112 

From  a  photograph  by  the  London  Stereoscopic  Company. 

Mathias ,,  120 

From  a  photograph  by  the  London  Stereoscopic  Company. 

Charles  the  First „  138 

From  the  painting  in  the  possession  of  M.  Russell  Cotes,  Esq. 

Vanderdecken „          242 

From  a  photograph  by  H.  Van  der  Weyde — copyright^  Langfier, 
London. 

Miss  Ellen  Terry  in  1878 ,,262 

From  a  photograph  by  Lock  &  Whitfield,  London. 

Henry  Irving  as  Hamlet;    Miss  Ellen  Terry  as  Ophelia, 

1879      -  ,280 

From  the  picture  by  Edward  H.  Bell. 


xx  ILLUSTRATIONS 

"  Much  Ado  About  Nothing  "  at  the  Lyceum,  Act  IV.     .  To  face  page  288 

From  the  picture  by  J.  Forbes- Robertson. 

Miss  Ellen  Terry  as  Portia      .  „          356 

From  a  photograph  by  Lock  6s  Whitfield,  London. 


ILLUSTRATIONS  IN  THE  TEXT. 

PAGE 

Irving's  signature  in  1859,  as  it  appears  in  his  scrap-book          .         .       36 
"  All  for  Money  " 97 

i5A  Grafton  Street,  Bond  Street,  as  it  appeared  during  Irving's  long 

residence  there 99 

Digby  Grant  in  "  Two  Roses  "— "  A  little  cheque  !  "         .         .  .104 

Digby  Grant  in  "  Two  Roses  " — "  You  annoy  me  very  much  "  .  .     105 

Miss  Bateman  as  Queen  Mary ;  Irving  as  Philip       .         .         .  .209 

Lesurques  and  Dubosc  in  " The  Lyons  Mail"          .         .         .  .226 

i.  The  effect  on  a  Dublin  audience  of  "The  Bells";   2.  The  effect 

on  the  same  audience  of  "  The  Belle's  Stratagem  "    .         .         .     345 

« Westward  Ho  !" 376 

Britannia  mourning  the  loss  of  Henry  Irving    .         .         .         .  378 

Irving  as  Louis  XI.        .........     379 

From  the  drawing  by  Fred.  Barnard. 


CHAPTER  I. 

1838-1856. 

The  birthplace  of  the  actor — His  parentage — His  early  recollections— 
His  remembrance  of  Bristol — His  mother — His  life  in  Cornwall — His 
reminiscences  of  his  boyhood — His  school-life  in  London — Those  times 
described  by  the  friend  of  his  boyhood — Serves  in  various  offices  in  the 
city — His  kind  remembrances  of  those  days — Joins  the  City  Elocution  Class 
— Described  by  his  companion  in  the  class — His  own  recollections  of  a 
performance  at  the  Soho  Theatre — Visits  Sadler's  Wells  and  the  Adelphi — 
Studies  under  William  Hoskins — Encouragement  from  Samuel  Phelps — 
Exit,  Brodribb. 

THE  year  one  thousand  eight  hundred  and  thirty  eight  was  a 
momentous  one  in  English  history.  The  coronation  of  the 
Queen  in  Westminster  Abbey  ushered  in  an  era  which  will  be 
for  ever  memorable  for  its  wonderful  inventions.  In  the  same 
year  that  Victoria  came  to  the  throne  the  first  iron  steamer 
from  Liverpool,  and  the  earliest  one  with  water-tight  compart- 
ments, crossed  the  Atlantic,  the  voyage  occupying  nineteen 
days,  four  times  as  much  as  that  taken  by  the  turbine  vessels  of 
to-day.  The  first  mails  were  sent  by  railway  instead  of  coach, 
the  electric  telegraph  came  into  operation,  Whetstone's  stereo- 
scope was  made,  and  Nasmyth  invented  the  steam  hammer. 
The  world  of  art  and  letters  was  marked  by  the  opening  of 
the  National  Gallery  and  by  the  publication  of  works  by 
Carlyle,  Macaulay,  Browning,  Dr.  Pusey,  Cardinal  Newman, 
Samuel  Lover,  and  Charles  Dickens.  And,  on  the  6th  of 
February,  a  child  was  born  who  subsequently  became  the 
predominating  influence  of  the  English  stage.  No  lucky  star 
ushered  in  his  birth.  For  the  air  was  full  of  wars  and  re- 
bellions, and  there  was  nothing  of  promise  in  the  circumstances 
of  his  coming.  He  was  the  only  child  of  humble  folk  whose 
chief  assets  were  sound  health  and  righteousness  of  heart. 

VOL.  I.  I 


2  THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAR  i. 

Keinton  Mandeville,  where  he  was  born,  was  a  dreary  place 
seventy  years  ago,  difficult  of  access,  shut  off  from  the  busy 
world.  It  is  seven  miles  from  the  famous  Abbey  of  Glaston- 
bury,  and,  with  its  grey  stone  buildings— the  surrounding 
district  is  noted  for  its  quarries — is  by  no  means  inspiriting. 
An  anonymous  writer,  some  years  back,  made  a  special 
pilgrimage  to  the  place  and  described  the  view  north  of  the 
village  as  "  dreamily  poetical.  Level  after  level  of  pasture, 
ridge  after  ridge  of  foliage,  stretch  away  to  the  foot  of  the  hills. 
Behind  them  wrapped  in  haze,  are  the  Mendips,  doubtful,  un- 
defined, containing  infinite  possibilities.  It  is  English  with  a 
slight  Dutch  flavour,  a  little  sad,  a  little  vague,  but  soft, 
tender,  mystic.  Keinton  Mandeville  is  like  a  monk's  cell- 
clean,  stony,  unembellished.  Everything  is  stone — the  houses, 
the  garden  hedges  made  of  great  grey  slabs,  even  the  drying 
posts."  The  place  has  a  general  air  of  solitude.  Here,  in 
an  unpretentious  stone  cottage,  the  hero  of  this  story  was  born. 
His  parents  occupied  two  of  the  half-dozen  small  rooms — a 
sitting-room  on  the  left,  as  the  cottage  is  entered,  and  a  bed- 
room above. 

His  father  was  Samuel  Brodribb,  a  tall,  somewhat  portly 
man,  and  an  excellent  rider  as  were  all  the  male  members  of 
his  family,  for  they  were  of  yeoman  stock  and  were  accustomed 
to  riding  in  to  the  markets  at  Bath  and  Bristol  from  the  village 
of  Glutton,  their  ancestral  home.  The  old  church  has  many 
memorials  of  the  Brodribb  family,  for  Henry  Irving's  grand- 
father and  various  other  ancestors  were  buried  in  Glutton. 
Samuel  Brodribb  was  the  youngest  of  four  brothers,  and  a 
man  who  had  not  the  good  fortune  to  be  successful  in  a 
commercial  sense.  He  opened  a  small  shop  in  Keinton 
Mandeville — on  the  other  side  of  the  way  to  the  cottage  in 
which  the  future  actor  was  born,  and  before  that  event.  But 
prosperity  did  not  come  to  him.  In  fact,  when  their  one  child 
was  little  more  than  four  years  of  age,  the  parents  found  it 
necessary  to  remove  to  Bristol.  When  Henry  Irving  had 
become  famous,  he  could  only  recall  the  place  of  his  birth  as 
"  a  God-forsaken  little  village.  My  memory  of  it  is  an  infantile 


1841]  MEMORIES  OF  CHILDHOOD  3 

one.  I  left  it  when  I  was  about  four,  I  suppose,  and  I  could 
not  have  been  more  than  three  when  the  incident  occurred 
which  is  implanted  in  my  mind  as  the  chief  thing  I  remember 
about  Keinton.  I  used  to  toddle  into  a  neighbour's  farm. 
One  day  I  was  attacked  by  some  sheep,  more  particularly 
a  ram.  I  was  a  good  deal  knocked  about  by  the  brute  with 
horns.  The  occurrence  is  in  my  mind  even  now  as  a  dreadful 
memory."  This  recollection  was  in  1888,  when  he  related 
the  circumstance  to  his  friend,  Joseph  Hatton.  The  visit  to 
which  he  alluded  took  place  in  the  early  seventies,  in  the 
company  of  his  manager,  Colonel  Bateman.  He  thought 
he  would  recollect  the  place,  but  it  was  quite  strange  to 
him.  "  It  was  altogether  a  different  place  from  what  I  had 
thought,  not  at  all  like  the  picture  that  I  had  in  my  mind.  I 
could  not  even  remember  the  name  of  the  farmer  in  whose 
meadow  I  had  come  to  grief  with  the  sheep.  I  fancied,  how- 
ever, that  I  should  remember  it  if  I  saw  it,  so  I  went  into  the 
churchyard,  and,  after  a  little  while  I  came  across  it — Hoddy. 
I  looked  about  for  the  house  where  I  had  lived,  but  could  not 
recall  it.  At  last  I  came  to  a  house  that  I  felt  that  I  knew. 
I  went  in  and  questioned  the  people.  They  said  no  one  had 
lived  in  it  by  the  name  of  Brodribb.  After  mentioning 
several  dead  and  gone  people  who  had  resided  in  it,  they  at 
last  came  to  Hoddy.  It  was  the  house  of  the  farmer  to  whom 
the  sheep  had  belonged !  " 

Within  a  year  of  his  death,  he  addressed  a  gathering 
of  Somersetshire  men  in  Liverpool,  and  gave  a  final  remini- 
scence of  his  birthplace :  "  I  remember  the  old  quarries  at 
Keinton  Mandeville,  where  I  was  born ;  and  my  childish 
mind  was  haunted  in  those  days  by  the  guinea  fowls  which 
perched  on  ghostly  trees  and  made  uncanny  sounds.  What 
part  they  have  played  in  my  career,  I  do  not  know,  unless 
they  gave  me  a  dramatic  yearning  for  the  society  of  Shake- 
speare's raven,  which  doth  bellow  for  revenge.  I  must  con- 
fess that  I  have  only  once  re-visited  Keinton  Mandeville ; 
and  then  I  was  shown  a  stone  edifice,  supposed  to  be  my 
old  home.  The  place  was  quite  unfamiliar  to  me.  But  in 


4  THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING    [CHAP.  i. 

my  childhood  I  must  have  known  something  of  Glastonbury, 
only  six  miles  away.  I  will  not  tell  you  that  on  the  Quantock 
Hills  my  father  fed  his  flock,  though  he  was  a  Somerset  man 
before  me.  Nor  will  I  pretend  that  I  mused  deeply  on 
Alfred  who  made  his  stronghold  among  the  Somerset  Saxons. 
But  I  think  it  is  possible  that  a  child  on  the  height  of  Avalon 
may  have  taken  into  his  blood  sub-consciously  the  old  legends 
of  Arthur." 

Bristol  is  the  next  scene  in  the  story.  A  speech,  made 
by  the  actor  in  that  city  in  1904,  gives  an  interesting  picture 
of  these  childish  days:  " Although  I  cannot  claim  to  have 
been  born  in  Bristol,  here  were  spent  some  of  my  youngest 
days.  Some  vast  amount  of  years  ago,  the  SS.  Great 
Britain l  was  launched ;  and  I  remember,  on  the  occasion, 
being  greatly  impressed  by  the  moustache  worn  by  Prince 
Albert,  the  Prince  Consort.  Being  desirous  of  emulating  a 
fashion,  then  almost  singular,  I  expressed  a  desire — being 
five  years  of  age — to  cultivate  a  moustache  myself.  This 
ambition  (certainly  a  harmless  one)  coming  to  the  know- 
ledge of  a  particular  friend  of  mine —  a  local  chemist  in  St. 
James's  Barton — he  said  he  would  prepare  and  grow  one 
for  me  if  I  would  abide  in  patience.  Days  passed,  which 
I  endured  restlessly,  when,  tired  to  death,  I  suppose,  of  my 
importunities,  my  friend  at  last  put  me  upon  a  stool  and 
magically  effected  the  much-desired  growth.  My  happiness 
was,  of  course,  supreme ;  and  proceeding  to  my  home,  a 
few  houses  off,  I  was  most  indignant  to  find  vulgar  and 
ill-mannered  persons  turning  round  and  laughing  at  my 
dignified  appearance,  and,  bitterly  complaining  to  my  mother 
of  their  conduct,  she  laughed  more  heartily  than  anybody, 
and,  soothing  and  appeasing  me,  she,  with  the  aid  of  a  little 
soap  and  water,  gently  removed  the  adornment,  which  en- 
tirely consisted  of  burnt  cork.  But  I  think  my  first  spark  of 
ambition  was  really  struck  on  that  glorious  morning  when  I 
saw  Van  Amburgh,  the  famous  lion-tamer,  drive,  I  think  it 

1The  first  iron  screw  steamer,  1845.  Length,  300  feet,  tonnage,  2084, 
as  against  the  790  feet  and  the  31,940  tons  of  the  Mauretania, 


1 845]  HIS  MOTHER  5 

was  twenty-four  horses,  down  Park  Street,  and  afterwards 
give  his  thrilling  performance  in  the  lions'  den.  I  don't  say 
that  I  yearned  from  that  moment  to  drive  a  herd  of  horses 
or  to  domesticate  lions ;  but  they  seem  to  me  emblematic  of 
the  pictorial  side  of  the  drama — its  pomp  and  circumstance. 
And  in  later  years  I  found  that  it  needed  a  cool  head — almost 
as  cool  as  Van  Amburgh's — to  manage  a  theatre,  where 
there  are  steep  places — almost  as  steep  as  Park  Street— 
but  in  another  way.  Besides,  in  a  theatre,  the  actor  is  always 
in  a  den  of  lions  (I  hope  this  will  not  be  quoted  as  an  ex- 
pression of  opinion  against  theatrical  entertainments),  and  if 
he  arrives  at  my  time  of  life  without  being  eaten,  he  may 
think  himself  lucky." 

Samuel  Brodribb's  wife  was  a  Cornish  woman,  Mary 
Behenna,  one  of  six  sisters.  When  troublous  times  came  to 
her  husband,  she  naturally  bethought  herself  of  her  native 
county  and  its  invigorating  air,  and  she  accordingly  deter- 
mined— hard  though  it  was  for  her  to  part  from  her  only  son— 
that  the  boy  should  not  accompany  her  to  London,  whither 
she  was  going.  Accordingly,  before  journeying  to  the  metro- 
polis, she  took  her  child  to  Cornwall,  and  left  him  in  charge 
of  her  sister,  Sarah,  whose  husband  was  Captain  Isaac  Pen- 
berthy,  a  Cornish  miner  of  note  in  his  day.  The  grief  of  his 
first  separation  from  his  mother  was  never  effaced  from  the 
memory  of  Henry  Irving.  "  At  first  I  was  miserable  enough  ; 
I  parted  from  my  mother  as  though  my  heart  was  breaking, 
but  did  not  show  half  I  felt,  nor  she  either,"  he  said  in  after 
years,  and  his  fond  remembrance  was  always  shown  whenever 
he  mentioned  her.  She  was  "lovable,  devoted,  a  woman 
of  fine  feeling,  whose  affections  were  self-sacrificing". 

Fortunately  for  John  Henry  Brodribb,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Penberthy  were  splendid  types  of  upright,  deeply  religious 
people.  Isaac  Penberthy  was  a  man  of  great  physical  strength, 
a  giant  in  stature,  and  possessed  of  an  iron  will.  He  was 
held  in  such  deep  respect  in  Cornwall  that  his  funeral,  in  1848, 
was  attended  by  two  thousand  miners,  many  of  whom  came 
from  great  distances  for  the  ceremony.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Pen- 


6  THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  i. 

berthy  had  three  children,  two  boys  and  a  girl,  and  in  this 
household  the  boy  lived  for  six  years.  His  sojourn  in  Corn- 
wall had  a  great  spiritual,  as  well  as  constitutional,  effect. 
Halsetown,  the  residence  of  his  uncle  and  aunt,  was  one  of 
the  wildest  and  most  romantic  spots  in  Cornwall.  Religion 
was  deeply  rooted  among  the  people,  and  superstition,  if  not 
altogether  popular,  was  rife.  Two  years  before  his  death,  the 
great  actor  gave  his  impressions  of  his  boyhood  in  Cornwall : 
"  To  this  day,  they  are  vivid  and  convincing.  At  this  distance 
of  time — it  may  be,  because  of  it — faces,  incidents,  and  hap- 
penings stand  out  very  clearly.  But  I  have  lost  the  half-tones, 
the  subtle  lights  and  shades  of  my  early  life.  Perhaps  they 
might  modify  my  present  mental  attitude.  I  do  not  know. 
I  have  the  belief  that  the  things  that  last  in  the  recollection 
are  the  lasting  things,  the  enduring  things,  and  that,  in  the 
vista  of  years,  the  trivial  and  insignificant  get  blotted  out.  Yet 
I  don't  think  I  shall  uphold  the  statement  when  I  tell  you  that 
at  this  moment,  roving  back  over  the  past,  I  recall  equally 
well  my  aunt  reading  the  Bible,  a  joke  we  children  once  played 
on  an  old  Granny,  my  uncle  Penberthy  in  a  rare  passion,  and 
— the  comic  waddling  of  a  lame  duck  across  the  roadway, 
falling  over  itself  in  haste  to  reach  the  evening  meal !  I  don't 
think  I  can  justify  the  lame  duck  as  a  chief  event  in  my  youth. 
It  is  evidently  one  of  the  trivialities  which  get  permanently 
photographed  on  the  memory." 

He  had,  however,  an  abiding  mental  picture  of  the  place 
and  its  people.  He  remembered  Halsetown  as  "a  village 
nestling  between  sloping  hills,  bare  and  desolate,  disfigured  by 
great  heaps  of  slack  from  the  mines,  and  with  the  Knill  monu- 
ment standing  prominent  as  a  landmark  to  the  east.  It  was 
a  wild  and  weird  place,  fascinating  in  its  own  peculiar  beauty, 
and  taking  a  more  definite  shape  in  my  youthful  imagination 
by  reason  of  the  fancies  and  legends  of  the  people.  The  stories 
attaching  to  rock,  and  well,  and  hill,  were  unending ;  every 
man  and  woman  had  folklore  to  tell  us  youngsters.  We  took 
to  them  naturally — they  seemed  to  fit  in  wisely  with  the 
solitudes,  the  expanses,  the  superstitious  character  of  the 


1848]  HIS  UNCLE  AND  AUNT  7 

Cornish  people,  and  never  clashed  in  our  minds  with  the 
scriptural  teachings  which  were  our  daily  portion  at  home. 
These  legends  and  fairy  stories  have  remained  with  me  but 
vaguely — I  was  too  young — but  I  remember  the  'guise- 
dancing,'  when  the  villagers  went  about  in  masks,  entering 
houses  and  frightening  the  children.  We  imitated  this  once, 
by  breaking  in  on  old  Granny  Dixon's  sleep,  fashioned  out  in 
horns  and  tails,  and  trying  to  frighten  her  into  repentance  for 
telling  us  stones  of  hell-fire  and  brimstone"-— an  attempt  that 
was  none  too  successful. 

Halsetown  gave  the  boy  a  healthy  start  in  life.  In  after 
life,  he  attributed  much  of  his  ability  to  endure  fatigue  "to  the 
free,  and  open,  and  healthy  years  I  lived  at  Halsetown,  and 
to  the  simple  food  and  regular  routine  ordained  by  my  aunt. 
We  rambled  much  over  the  desolate  hills,  or  down  to  the  rocks 
at  the  seashore.  There  was  plenty  of  natural  beauty  to  look 
for,  and  I  suppose  that  we  looked  for  it.  I  know  the  sea  had 
a  potent  attraction  for  me.  I  was  a  wiry  youth,  as  I  believe, 
when  the  time  came  for  me  to  join  a  London  school."  There 
may  possibly  have  been  more  volumes  in  his  uncle's  house 
than  those  of  the  Bible,  some  old  English  ballads,  and  "  Don 
Quixote,"  but  these  were  the  only  ones  which  he  could  recall 
in  1883.  His  uncle  was  a  big  man,  bearded,  broad  in  the 
shoulders,  a  trifle  rough  perhaps,  and  possessed  of  a  Celtic 
temper.  "  He  was  a  man  born  to  command  and  to  be  loved. 
I  can  hardly  describe  to  you  how  dominating  was  his  personal- 
ity, and  yet  how  lovable.  I  remember  that  my  aunt,  my 
cousins,  and  myself  went  to  meet  him  coming  home  from  the 
mines  every  evening,  that  his  greeting  was  boisterously  affec- 
tionate, and  that  we  knew  no  better  task  than  to  win  his 
approval.  I  find  this  the  more  remarkable  when  I  remember 
my  aunt.  It  was  the  union  of  two  strong  individualities.  She 
was  a  woman  of  severe  simplicity  in  dress — the  straight  lines 
of  her  gowns  are  before  me  now — and  deeply  religious  in 
character.  It  was  the  time  of  the  great  religious  revival  in 
Cornwall.  My  aunt  was  a  teetotaller  and  a  Methodist,  and 
her  whole  life  was  coloured  by  her  convictions.  Perhaps  the 


8  THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  i. 

stern  asceticism  of  the  daily  routine  imposed  by  my  aunt  may 
have  jarred  upon  us  youngsters,  but  it  was  tempered  by  strong 
affection.  At  any  rate,  the  angles  have  worn  off  that  recol- 
lection. My  aunt  inspired  both  respect  and  affection  among 
us,  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  her  discipline  was  good  and 
healthful."  This  admirable  woman  survived  her  husband  for 
many  years  and  lived  to  witness  the  triumph  of  her  nephew. 
In  the  year  1849,  the  boy  was  removed  from  Cornwall  to 
London,  and  sent  to  the  City  Commercial  School,  George 
Yard,  Lombard  Street.  It  was  not  long  before  his  early  in- 
stincts came  into  being,  for,  at  one  of  the  school  entertainments, 
which  were  held  at  Sussex  Hall,  Leadenhall  Street,  he  wished 
to  recite  "  The  Uncle,"  by  Edward  Glassford  Bell,  a  gruesome 
poem,  to  the  weirdness  of  which  he  did  ample  justice  in  his 
maturer  years.  The  worthy  schoolmaster,  however,  with  good 
humour  and  sound  discretion,  selected  Curran's  "  Defence  of 
Hamilton  Rowan".  One  of  these  school  entertainments  was 
witnessed  by  a  well-known  tragedian  of  the  day,  William 
Creswick,  who,  on  loth  December,  1879,  at  a  benefit  given  at 
the  Lyceum  by  the  great  actor-manager  in  aid  of  a  brother 
player,  made  a  speech  in  which  he  described  the  circumstances  : 
"  I  was  once  invited  to  hear  some  schoolboys  recite  speeches 
previous  to  their  breaking  up  for  the  holidays.  The  school- 
master was  an  old  friend  of  mine,  whom  I  very  much  respected. 
The  room  was  filled  from  wall  to  wall  with  the  parents  and 
friends  of  the  pupils.  I  was  not  much  entertained  with  the 
first  part.  I  must  confess  that  I  was  a  little  bored.  But 
suddenly  there  came  out  a  lad  who  struck  me  as  being  a  little 
uncommon,  and  he  riveted  my  attention.  The  performance, 
I  think,  was  a  scene  from  '  Ion,'  in  which  he  played  Adrastus. 
I  well  saw  that  he  left  his  schoolfellows  a  long  way  behind. 
That  schoolboy  was  Master  Henry  Irving.  Seeing  that  he 
had  dramatic  aptitude,  I  gave  him  a  word  of  encouragement, 
perhaps  the  first  he  had  ever  received,  and  certainly  the  first 
he  had  ever  received  from  one  in  the  dramatic  profession,  to 
which  he  is  now  a  distinguished  honour."  There  was  a 
Shakespearean  touch  about  the  name  of  the  principal  of  the 


i85o] 


SCHOOL  IN  LONDON 


school,  Pinches,  and  one  of  the  masters  rejoiced  in  the  name 
of  Dickens. 

The  boys  had  to  write  formal  letters  to  their  parents— 
although  their  homes  were  within  a  little  walking  distance 
from  George  Yard — before  the  Christmas  holidays  and  invite 
them  to  the  distribution  of  prizes  and  the  entertainment  which 
followed.  For  this  purpose,  they  were  provided  with  elaborate 
letter  paper,  the  margin  of  which  was  stamped  with  coats  of 
arms  and  laudable  injunctions  in  Latin,  "  Gloria  in  excelsis 
Deo  et  in  terra  pax,"  being  the  most  prominent  of  the  precepts. 
But  our  hero  had  to  take  to  heart  no  motto  more  strongly 
than  that  conveyed  in  the  single  word  "  Perseverando  "  which 
stood  for  a  lonely  knight  in  armour  in  the  corner  where  John 
Henry  Brodribb  signed  his  name  when  inviting  his  father  and 
mother  to  Sussex  Hall  in  December,  1850.  The  boy's  home 
was  in  the  City,  at  65  Old  Broad  Street — the  original  building 
was  demolished  some  years  since  for  modern  offices,  the  site 
being  marked  by  the  Dresdner  Bank — where  his  parents 
occupied  the  top  floor.  Master  Henry  cared  more  for  white 
mice  than  schoolbooks,  and  arithmetic  was  an  abomination  to 
him.  So  his  friend  in  the  school,  Edward  Plumbridge,  fre- 
quently did  his  sums  for  him  in  the  evening,  and,  as  he  was  his 
monitor  at  George  Yard,  certified  to  their  correctness  on  the 
next  morning — an  admirable  arrangement !  Young  Brodribb 
had  thus  early  developed  a  taste  for  play-acting,  and  he  often 
practised,  with  a  wooden  sword  as  tall  as  himself,  the  defeat 
of  the  enemy.  His  companion  in  these  childish  pranks  was 
almost  his  exact  age — Mr.  Plumbridge  was  born  in  the  same 
year  and  month,  but  nine  days  later.  He  is  still  hale  and 
hearty  and  carries  his  seventy  years  with  the  alertness  and 
vivacity  of  a  man  of  forty.  His  father  was  an  importer  of 
fruit  and  nuts,  and  the  family  resided  in  premises,  above  the 
warehouse,  in  Botolph  Lane.  Here  young  Brodribb  often 
came  to  play.  These  early  recollections  were  uppermost  in 
his  thoughts  within  a  few  weeks  of  his  death.  For,  one  night 
at  the  end  of  July,  1905,  he  told  the  present  writer  of  these 
evenings  in  Botolph  Lane.  His  memory  was  impressed  by 


io  THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  i. 

the  circumstances  that  it  was  a  point  of  honour  with  the  boys 
that  although  they  could  play  among  the  stores  as  much  as 
they  liked,  they  should  not  take  a  single  nut — and  the  freshness 
of  that  recollection  has  recently  been  confirmed  by  young 
Brodribb's  school-mate.  The  nuts  were  brought  from  Spain 
in  a  schooner,  the  Hawk,  owned  by  Mr.  Plumbridge,  senior, 
and  were  shot  loose  into  the  cellar.  The  playmates  sank  up 
to  their  knees  in  them  and  progress  was  slow.  The  boys  left 
school  in  the  same  year,  1851,  and,  as  is  often  the  case  with 
those  whose  walks  of  life  are  divergent,  the  young  friends 
drifted  apart.  But  it  is  pleasant  to  know  that  they  did  not 
forget  each  other.  For,  when  Henry  Irving  returned  to 
London  in  1866,  one  of  his  first  duties  was  to  seek  out  his 
old  school  friend  in  the  City  and  invite  him  to  the  theatre. 
Mr.  Plumbridge  has  nothing  but  kindly  recollections  of  "  young 
Brodribb,"  and  of  his  mother — "a  tall  and  homely  body, 
whom  anyone  would  like ".  Strictly  speaking,  the  City 
Commercial  School  stood  in  Ball  Alley,  which  can  be  entered 
from  Gracechurch  Street  and  Lombard  Street,  as  well  as 
from  George  Yard. 

It  was  one  of  the  most  delightful  traits  in  the  nature  of 
Henry  Irving  that  he  invariably  spoke  with  kindness  of  his 
old  associates.  In  this  respect,  we  have  two  more  charming 
glimpses  of  his  youthful  days.  On  leaving  school  in  1851,  he 
was  placed  in  the  office  of  a  firm  of  lawyers  in  the  City  of 
London,  Paterson  and  Longman,  Milk  Street,  Cheapside,  a 
locality  famous  as  the  birthplace  of  Sir  Thomas  More.  Being 
requested  in  after  years  by  the  daughter  of  one  of  the  partners 
to  give  some  information  on  the  point,  he  wrote  as  follows  : — 

"  28^  September,  1892. 

11  DEAR  MADAM, — It  is  quite  true  that  I  was  in  Mr. 
Churchill- Longman's  office.  I  was  very  young  at  the  time, 
not  more  than  thirteen,  but  I  remember  your  father  and  his 
kindness  very  well.  Mr.  Paterson  I  have  known  all  my  life, 
but  I  have  not  seen  him  for  the  last  year  or  two. 

4 'Yours  faithfully, 

11  HENRY  IRVING." 


R-a 


From  a  photograph. 


BOTOLPH    LANE. 


1851]  IN  A  LONDON  OFFICE  n 

Having  gone  through  the  usual  routine  of  a  junior  clerk 
for  a  twelvemonth,  the  boy  was  taken  from  the  lawyer's  office 
in  Milk  Street  and  placed  with  a  firm  of  East  India  merchants, 
in  Newgate  Street,  with  the  prospect  of  going  to  India  and 
attaining  an  excellent  position  in  the  commercial  world.  But 
commerce  had  no  attraction  for  him.  All  his  thoughts  were 
turned  to  the  stage.  Thus  early,  he  had  determined  upon 
his  future  profession,  and  he  bent  his  mind  to  the  accomplish- 
ment of  his  purpose  ;  every  possible  moment  that  could  be 
spared  from  his  regular  work  was  devoted  to  the  study  of 
plays  and  poems.  Not  only  did  he  earn  his  own  living  at 
the  age  of  thirteen,  but,  out  of  the  little  pocket-money  which 
his  mother  could  spare  from  her  earnings  as  caretaker  of  the 
offices  over  which  she  and  her  son  lived,  he  managed  to  buy 
a  few  books.  He  frequently  rose  at  four  in  the  morning, 
walked  to  Thames-side  for  a  bath,  and  fared  chiefly  on  bread 
and  butter.  He  led  this  arduous  life  for  several  years. 

But  he  never  forgot  these  early  days  in  Newgate  Street, 
and,  when  he  was  on  the  threshold  of  his  London  career, 
he  remembered  the  manager  of  the  East  India  merchants' 
office.  On  the  day  before  he  started  his  engagement  at  the 
St.  James's  Theatre,  he  sent  him  a  letter,  signed,  it  will  be  ob- 
served, in  his  real  name,  the  old-fashioned  courtesy  of  which 
is  very  striking  :— 

"8  OLD  QUEBEC  ST., 
"  BRYANSTON  SQUARE, 

"5^  October,  '66. 

"My  DEAR  SIR, 

"  I  make  my  first  appearance  at  the  St.  James's 
on  Saturday  evening. 

"  If  you  be  inclined  (for  old  remembrance)  to  see  me, 
please  fill  in  date  to  enclosed  for  that  night  or  any  other 
that  may  suit  you  better. 

"  With  best  wishes, 

"  Very  faithfully  yours, 

"  HENRY  BRODRIBB. 

"  Should  you  write  to  me,  direct  please  to  Henry  Irving. 
"H.  R.  BLACKWELL,  Esq." 


12  THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  i. 

When  the  future  actor  was  in  his  seventeenth  year,  he 
gave  some  indications  of  his  dramatic  powers.  In  1853,  he 
joined  the  City  Elocution  Class,  a  sort  of  mutual  improvement 
society,  the  members  of  which  criticised  one  another's  efforts, 
presided  over  by  Henry  Thomas,  a  man  of  considerable 
ability  as  a  teacher.  These  classes  were  first  held  in  Gould 
Square,  Fenchurch  Street,  and  subsequently  in  Sussex  Hall. 
One  evening  a  youth  of  some  fifteen  years  of  age  presented 
himself.  His  appearance  was  such  as  would  make  ladies  ex- 
claim "  What  a  nice  boy!"  He  was  rather  tall  for  his  age, 
dressed  in  a  black  cloth  suit,  with  a  round  jacket,  over  the  top 
of  which  was  turned  a  deep  white  linen  collar.  His  face  was 
very  handsome,  with  a  mass  of  wavy,  black  hair,  and  eyes 
bright  and  flashing  with  intelligence.  He  was  called  upon 
for  his  first  recitation,  and  he  fairly  electrified  the  class  with  a 
display  of  elocutionary  skill  and  dramatic  intensity.  John 
Henry  Brodribb — as  he  was  still  known — became  a  great 
favourite  in  the  class,  and  his  efforts  as  an  amateur  were  re- 
cognised in  print.  The  "  Theatrical  Journal "  has  long  ceased 
to  exist,  but  its  pages  contained  the  earliest  public  references 
to  the  embryo  actor.  A  certain  Thomas  William  Cooper, 
writing  in  the  issue  of  Wednesday,  4th  January,  1854,  gives 
some  interesting  details  of  an  entertainment  in  the  middle  of 
the  previous  month  at  the  Sussex  Hall.  The  programme 
began  with  a  scene  from  "The  Rivals".  "  Mr.  Brodribb,  as 
Captain  Absolute,  and  Mr.  Dyall,  as  Sir  Anthony,  played 
their  parts  with  a  very  intelligent  tact  and  with  great  credit  to 
their  teacher,  Mr.  Thomas."  Later  on,  "'The  Last  Days  of 
Herculaneum '  was  given  in  a  style  worthy  the  talented  powers 
of  so  young  a  Roscius  as  Mr.  Brodribb".  On  nth  April, 
1854,  the  farce,  "Catching  an  Heiress,"  concluded  the  enter- 
tainment at  Sussex  Hall,  and  "both  Mr.  Cooper  and  Mr. 
Brodribb  were  also  well  up  in  their  characters,  and  are  de- 
serving of  particular  mention".  In  the  following  autumn, 
"  Mr.  Brodribb  "  won  favourable  mention  for  his  acting  in  the 
farce,  "My  Wife's  Dentist". 

The  Mr.   Dyall  who  is  here  mentioned,  for  many  years 


1854]  AN  AMATEUR  ACTOR  13 

the  curator  of  the  Liverpool  Art  Gallery,  was  an  intimate 
and  life-long  friend  of  the  .man  and  the  actor.  His  recollec- 
tions of  the  City  Elocution  Class  are  very  interesting,  for 
he  was  a  member  when  young  Brodribb  joined  it.  Mr. 
Dyall  recalls  the  original  class-room,  which  was  under  a 
railway  arch  in  Gould  Square,  but  the  only  piece  which  he 
saw  there  was  a  farce,  "  The  Mummy,"  in  which  the  youthful 
comedian,  J.  L.  Toole,  appeared.  His  remembrance  of  Mr. 
Thomas  is  that  of  a  "  bright,  genial,  sunny,  mercurial,  and 
eminently  lovable  man.  In  his  dramatic  proclivities,  he  was 
a  follower  of  Charles  Mathews,  and  undertook,  with  much  go 
and  spirit,  the  same  kind  of  parts.  His  wife  was  a  buxom 
little  woman,  brimming  over  with  fun  ;  not  ethereal  enough 
for  the  young  heroines,  but  invaluable  in  such  parts  as  *  Little 
Toddlekins,'  for  whose  acceptance  I,  as  Sir  Barnaby  Babbi- 
come,  brought  in  the  little  mannikin.  When  the  Elocution 
Class  held  its  meetings  in  Sussex  Hall,  we  found  it  a  very 
cosy  and  comfortable  room  ;  well  seated,  and  with  a  very 
handsome  white  balustrade  running  across  to  within  twenty 
feet  of  the  length.  The  club  fitted  up  the  stage  portion  with 
two  three-fold  screens,  having  a  practical  door  in  the  centre 
of  each  ;  these  were  handsomely  papered,  a  darker  paper 
being  used  for  the  doors.  An  opening  at  the  back,  with 
drapery,  left  another  means  for  exits  and  entrances  ;  with  a 
few  chairs  and  a  table  or  two,  a  vase  of  flowers  and  some 
ornaments,  we  had  a  very  effective  drawing-room  for  the 
small  pieces  we  played.  The  weekly  meetings  of  the  club 
were  devoted  to  recitations  by  the  members,  with  Henry 
Thomas  as  chairman.  The  only  teaching  was  by  mutual 
criticism  ;  the  members  helping  each  other  to  pick  up  dropped 
'h's,'  and  put  them  in  their  proper  places  ;  pointing  out  wrong 
accents,  bad  pronunciation,  inappropriate  gesture,  awkward 
positions  of  the  hands  and  feet,  etc.  These  criticisms  did 
great  good  to  the  members  of  the  class,  especially  in  the 
matter  of  extempore  speaking.  The  pieces  played  were 
mostly  of  a  light  character,  many  of  them  are  now  almost 
forgotten,  but  they  were  highly  appreciated  at  the  time. 


i4  THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  i. 

They  consisted  of  '  Boots  at  the  Swan,'  '  Delicate  Ground/ 
'  The  Man  with  the  Carpet  Bag,'  *  Love  in  Humble  Life,' 
1  Who  Speaks  First,'  '  Little  Toddlekins,'  'A  Silent  Woman,' 
and  others  of  a  like  class  suitable  for  presentation  as  drawing- 
room  performances.  The  new  member  of  the  City  Elocution 
Class  soon  became  a  great  favourite  at  these  meetings,  every 
opportunity  being  taken  to  cast  him  for  such  parts  as  his 
youthful  appearance  would  admit  of.  He  was  successful  in 
everything  he  undertook,  and  when  opportunity  served  he 
displayed  unmistakable  gifts.  One  of  the  rules  of  the  class 
was,  that  each  member  should  know  the  words  of  his  part,  and 
any  one  failing  in  this  respect  met  with  the  utmost  ridicule. 
Our  young  member  was  always  letter-perfect,  so  that  his  mind 
was  free  to  give  due  effect  to  the  author's  meaning.  But  it 
was  in  recitation  that,  at  this  time,  he  appeared  to  the  greatest 
advantage,  his  youth  being  against  his  assumption  of  manly 
parts.  One  of  his  most  successful  efforts  at  this  period  was 
the  part  of  Wilford,  in  selected  scenes  from  'The  Iron  Chest,' 
the  Sir  Edward  Mortimer  being  myself.  On  this  occasion 
his  lines  were  given  with  such  force,  earnestness,  and  pathos, 
as  to  elicit  the  most  enthusiastic  applause." 

A  performance  given  by  the  students  of  the  City  Elocution 
Class  at  the  Soho  Theatre — now  the  Royalty — was  always  im- 
pressed upon  our  hero.  The  old  comedy,  "  The  Honeymoon," 
was  represented,  and  Mr.  Thomas's  pupils  appeared  in  "all 
the  glory  of  tights,  silk  cloaks,  and  hats  and  feathers  ".  Many 
years  afterwards,  in  July,  1884, tne  Irving  Amateur  Dramatic 
Club  entertained  their  president,  after  whom  their  club  had 
been  named,  at  supper  in  the  Freemasons'  Tavern,  where  he 
spoke  of  this,  his  first  performance  in  a  regular  theatre : 
"Amateur  acting  is  a  very  different  thing  to  what  it  was 
when  I  was  a  young  man — and  I  am  not  like  that  horrible 
old  playgoer  who  sits  upon  everything  and  calls  it  bad.  I 
believe  that  you  act  under  many  advantages  that  were  not 
enjoyed  by  amateurs  in  the  past — certainly,  as  far  as  my  ex- 
perience goes.  I  was  once  a  member  of  what  was  called  an 
^locution  class,  and  we  suffered  under  one  disadvantage — we 


i8ss]  AT  THE  SOHO  THEATRE  15 

had  not  the  pleasure  of  enjoying  the  society  of  amiable  and 
accomplished  ladies.  We  chose  pieces  in  which  the  ladies 
had  not  very  prominent  parts,  and,  wherever  the  parts  were, 
they  were  cut  down.  Sometimes,  the  chambermaid  was 
transformed  into  some  hobbledehoy  young  man,  and  the 
entertainments,  I  dare  say,  were  not  very  interesting.  But 
I  remember  that  I  once  did  take  part  in  an  amateur  per- 
formance, the  only  occasion  in  my  life  when  my  ambition  was 
satisfied,  where  there  was  a  real  stage,  and  real  scenery,  real 
footlights,  real  dresses,  real  everything.  We  had  the  Soho 
Theatre,  and  they  had  a  rather  peculiar  method  there.  The 
amateurs  who  wanted  to  furnish  parts,  paid  different  prices. 
The  prices  seemed  to  vary  according  to  the  vice  or  the  virtue 
of  the  characters — two  guineas  for  I  ago,  three  guineas  for 
Romeo.  I  had  three  guineas'  worth,  and  it  was  rather  a 
memorable  occasion  for  me — and  to  those,  I  should  think,  who 
saw  me!  Rehearsals  were  out  of  the  question  altogether, 
and  the  supporters  were  principally  a  lot  of  superannuated 
actors.  Of  course,  the  cast  was  conducted  by  any  confiding 
amateur ;  they  were  glad  to  get  the  money,  and  if  not  they 
were  happy  to  have  emergency  men.  I  had  a  costume  ;  it  was 
a  sort  of  red  cotton-velvet  shirt  on  a  pair  of  white  cotton  legs, 
a  very  tall  black  hat  and  two  white  feathers,  very  large  black 
shoes  and  blue  rosettes.  What  I  remember  particularly  was — 
I  certainly  will  take  credit  to  myself — I  got  lost  once  or  twice 
in  the  scenery.  Being  at  the  time  a  young  man,  I  thought 
it  necessary  to  wear  a  wig,  and  during  one  part  of  the  per- 
formance I  lost  that,  too ;  and  also,  my  dagger.  However, 
I  got  through  to  the  entire  satisfaction  of  some  ten  or  twelve 
friends  of  mine — young  clerks  in  the  City — and  I  cannot  tell 
you  whether  the  event  was  recorded  in  any  of  the  theatrical 
papers  of  the  time,  but  at  any  rate  there  was  not  much 
Italian  romance  about  the  business,  though  certainly  I  went 
to  work  like  a  man  and  a  Briton,  that  I  will  say.  But 
at  all  events,  you  may  belong,  my  friends,  to  an  elocution 
class,  and  learn  the  rules  and  the  method,  and  when  you 
become  an  actor  with  some  little  reputation,  you  may  find 


16  THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  i. 

perhaps  at  last  you  are  not  able  to  make  your  speech  intel- 
ligible." 

On  an  another  occasion,  when  addressing,  in  1885,  the 
students  of  Harvard  College,  he  said  that,  as  a  boy,  he  had  a 
habit  which  he  thought  "  would  be  useful  to  all  students. 
Before  going  to  see  a  play  of  Shakespeare's,  I  used  to  form- 
in  a  very  juvenile  way — a  theory  as  to  the  working  out  of  the 
whole  drama,  so  as  to  correct  my  conceptions  by  those  of  the 
actors,  and  though  I  was,  as  a  rule,  absolutely  wrong,  there 
can  be  no  doubt  that  any  method  of  independent  study  is  of 
enormous  importance,  not  only  to  youngsters,  but  also  to 
students  of  a  larger  growth."  In  the  light  of  these  words,  it 
is  interesting  to  know  that  his  first  visit  to  a  theatre  was  to 
Sadler's  Wells,  where  he  had  the  advantage  of  seeing  Samuel 
Phelps  as  Hamlet.  This  performance  was  indelibly  impressed 
on  his  memory,  and  he  often  told  the  friends  of  his  manhood 
of  the  pleasure  which  he  derived  from  it.  Another  vivid  re- 
collection was  his  first  visit  to  a  theatre  alone.  He  sat  in  the 
gallery  of  the  Adelphi  Theatre,  depressed  by  a  sense  of 
wickedness,  and  with  a  feeling  that  the  gallery  would  probably 
fall  into  the  pit  for  his  particular  punishment.  But  a  neighbour 
entered  into  conversation  with  him,  his  spirits  revived,  and  he 
became  so  interested  in  the  entertainment — which  consisted  of 
"The  Haunted  Man,"  "The  Enchanted  Isle,"  and  the  farce, 
"  Slasher  and  Crasher  "•  —that  he  left  the  theatre  with  reluctance 
at  one  in  the  morning,  after  six  hours'  enjoyment,  and  arrived 
home  an  hour  later  to  find  his  mother  awaiting  him  in  a  state 
of  terrible  anxiety. 

But  the  study  of  books,  his  amateurish  efforts  in  the  City 
Elocution  Class,  and  his  witnessing  of  Shakespeare  at  Sadler's 
Wells,  were  not  his  only  means  of  preparation  for  his  future 
career.  About  the  year  1854,  he  enlisted  the  sympathy  of  a 
member  of  Phelps's  company,  William  Hoskins,1  who  was  so 

1  Hoskins  was  a  man  of  education.  His  father  was  Alexander  Hoskins, 
of  Newton  Hall,  Derbyshire,  and  he  was  educated  at  Oxford.  He  went  on 
the  stage  in  1834,  in  his  nineteenth  year,  and  eventually  became  a  member 
of  Phelps's  company  at  Sadler's  Wells,  He  played  Austin  Tresham  in  "  A 


1856]  AN  OFFER  FROM  PHELPS  17 

much  impressed  by  the  earnestness  and  capability  of  the  boy, 
that  he  rendered  him  far  more  assistance  than  strict  duty  de- 
manded of  him.  For  the  youth  had  to  be  at  his  office  soon 
after  nine  o'clock,  and,  in  order  to  accommodate  his  pupil, 
Hoskins  began  his  teaching  at  eight — an  early  hour  for  any 
one  in  the  theatrical  profession — at  his  house  in  Myddleton 
Square.  The  kind  old  actor  became  so  pleased  with  the 
progress  of  the  youth,  that  he  introduced  him  to  Phelps.  The 
tragedian,  after  hearing  the  aspirant  recite  Othello's  Address 
to  the  Senate,  smiled  a  kind  approval.  But  he  urged  him 
not  to  join  such  an  ill-requited  profession  as  that  of  the  player. 
"  Well,  sir,"  said  the  ambitious  amateur,  "  it  seems  strange  that 
such  advice  should  come  from  you ;  seeing  that  you  enjoy  so 
great  a  reputation  as  an  actor,  I  think  I  shall  take  my  chance 
and  go  upon  the  stage."  "In  that  case,  sir,"  was  the  en- 
couraging reply,  "you  may  come  next  season  to  Sadler's 
Wells,  and  I'll  give  you  two  pounds  a  week  to  begin  with." 
Young  Brodribb,  completely  taken  aback,  could  only  stammer 
a  few  words  of  grateful  thanks,  but  he  did  not  accept  the  flat- 
tering offer.  He  had  determined  to  begin  his  career  in  the 
provinces.  At  this  important  point  in  his  life,  Hoskins  stepped 
into  the  breach.  He  was  on  the  eve  of  sailing  for  Australia, 
and  he  approached  Mrs.  Brodribb  with  an  offer,  if  she  would 
allow  her  son  to  accompany  him,  of  an  engagement  at  five 
pounds  per  week.  Fortunately,  the  offer  was  not  accepted, 
whereupon  Hoskins  told  Mrs.  Brodribb  that  the  time  would 

Blot  in  the  'Scutcheon,"  and  Buckingham  in  "  Henry  VIII."  He  re- 
mained in  Australia  for  thirty  years,  and  was  greatly  respected.  In  the 
gold  rush,  he  made  ^"50,000,  nearly  all  of  which  he  subsequently  lost  in 
theatrical  management  in  Melbourne.  But  New  Zealand  brought  him 
another  spell  of  luck,  and  on  his  marriage  there  to  a  popular  actress,  Miss 
Florence  Colville,  the  ceremony  was  attended  by  a  notable  gathering,  which 
included  the  Governor  of  the  colony,  various  Ministers  of  the  Crown, 
members  of  Parliament,  and  other  prominent  persons.  His  death  took 
place  in  Melbourne,  at  the  age  of  seventy-one,  on  28th  September,  1886. 
Soon  afterwards,  a  meeting  was  held  in  that  city  in  order  to  devise  a  scheme 
in  honour  of  the  old  actor  and  manager.  The  first  communication  read  to 
the  assembly  was  a  cablegram  from  the  pupil  whom  he  had  befriended  thirty 
years  before,  which  said  :  "  Please  add  hundred  pounds  remembrance  dear 
old  friend  Hoskins. — Henry  Irving  ". 
VOL.  I.  2 


i8  THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  i. 

come  when  her  child  would  earn  fifty  pounds  a  night.  It  may 
be  proper  to  remark  that  the  mother  of  the  future  actor-manager 
of  the  Lyceum  had  an  innate  dread  of  her  son  going  upon  the 
stage.  "I  used  frequently,"  says  Mr.  Dyall,  "to  visit  at  the 
house  in  Broad  Street  for  the  purpose  of  rehearsing  the  scenes 
in  which  John  and  I  were  to  act  together.  I  remember  her 
as  being  rather  tall,  somewhat  stately,  and  very  gentle.  On 
one  occasion,  she  came  to  me  with  tears  in  her  eyes  and  im- 
plored me  to  dissuade  John  from  thinking  of  the  stage  as 
a  profession,  and,  having  read  much  of  the  vicissitudes  of 
actors'  lives,  their  hardships  and  the  precariousness  of  their 
employment,  I  joined  my  voice  to  hers  to  try  and  prevent 
him."  As  Hoskins  could  not  induce  the  ambitious  lad  to  go 
to  Australia  with  him,  he  gave  him  a  letter  to  a  well-known 
manager,  E.  D.  Davis,  saying  :  "  You  will  go  upon  the  stage. 
When  you  want  an  engagement,  present  that  letter,  and  you 
will  find  one."  This  kind  friend  sailed  for  Sydney  early  in 
1856,  and,  by  September  of  that  year,  his  talismanic  letter 
had  opened  the  portals  of  fame  to  Henry  Irving — for  as 
Brodribb  he  passes  out  of  this  story. 


CHAPTER  II. 

1856-1859. 

Enter,  Henry  Irving — His  study  of  fencing — Purchase  of  "  properties  " 
— Sets  out  for  Sunderland — His  first  appearance  on  the  stage — His  ex- 
treme nervousness — Advised  to  return  to  London — Begins  a  long  engage- 
ment in  Edinburgh — Criticised,  but  encouraged,  by  the  press — Praised  for 
his  attention  to  details — Always  letter-perfect — Acts  with  various  "stars" 
— Cloten  to  Helen  Faucit's  Imogen — Beauseant,  in  "  The  Lady  of  Lyons  " 
— Venoma,  a  spiteful  fairy — "Frizzling  and  grizzling" — Cyril  Baliol,  a 
successful  impersonation — Irving  in  burlesque — Plays  Claude  Melnotte  for 
his  benefit — His  first  speech — Leaves  Edinburgh  for  London. 

WHEN  Henry  Irving  set  out  for  Sunderland,  where  he  was 
to  make  his  first  appearance  in  the  regular  theatre,  he  was 
well-equipped  for  his  self-appointed  task.  Youth — for  he  was 
but  eighteen  and  a  half  years  of  age — and  an  iron  constitution 
were  on  his  side.  He  had,  as  we  have  seen,  studied  as- 
siduously for  his  adopted  profession,  and  he  had  practised,  as 
much  as  was  possible,  on  the  amateur  stage.  During  those 
hard- working  years  of  his  youth  in  London  he  had  also  taken 
lessons  in  dancing,  and,  for  a  long  time — two  years — he  went 
twice  a  week  to  Shury's  school  of  arms,  in  Chancery  Lane, 
where  he  studied  and  practised  fencing.  This  practice,  it  may 
be  well  to  note  in  this  place,  he  never  allowed  to  lapse  until 
he  had  become  one  of  the  best  swordsmen  on  the  theatrical 
boards  ;  he  continued  his  practice  in  fencing  when  in  Edinburgh 
under  a  well-known  master  of  the  art,  Captain  Roland,  and, 
in  London,  at  Angelo's.  But,  when  he  arrived  in  Sunderland, 
he  had  some  minor  qualifications,  in  addition  to  those  enum- 
erated, for  the  work  that  was  before  him.  He  had  had  a  little 
money  left  to  him,  and,  as  actors  in  those  days  were  obliged 
to  provide  certain  articles  generally  known  as  "properties" — 
wigs,  tights,  swords,  shoes,  and  gloves — he  had  laid  in  an  ample 

19  2  * 


20          THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  n. 

stock  of  these  things.  Even  then,  his  small  store  of  cash  was 
not  exhausted,  so  that  the  irony  of  a  certain  remark  which 
appeared  in  reference  to  his  first  performance,  caused  him 
much  quiet  amusement,  and  he  never  forgot  it.  When  he 
arrived  in  Sunderland,  two  weeks  before  the  opening  of  the 
theatre,  he  had  some  difficulty  in  finding  the  establishment, 
for  it  was  in  the  hands  of  the  builders  and  surrounded  by 
hoardings.  The  rehearsals  were  conducted  in  a  state  of  con- 
fusion, and,  when  the  theatre  was  at  last  opened,  he  was  so 
afraid  of  his  beloved  properties  being  stolen  if  they  were  left 
in  the  dressing-room,  that  he  carried  them  to  and  from  the 
playhouse,  to  his  lodgings,  two  miles  away,  each  night,  in  a 
carpet  bag.  His  landlady  was  proud,  in  after  years,  of  this 
early  association.  She  had  two  lodgers — the  embryo  actor 
and  a  curate — and  it  often  happened  that  the  former  would  be 
reciting  his  part  in  one  room,  while  the  young  clergyman  was 
declaiming  his  sermon  in  another.  Even  then,  Irving  was 
remarkable  for  his  punctuality,  in  his  private,  as  in  his  public, 
engagements.  Forty-eight  years  afterwards,  in  a  speech 
which  he  made  on  the  occasion  of  a  public  presentation  to 
him  in  Sunderland,  he  spoke  of  this  momentous  period  in 
his  career  :  "  It  is  a  long  time  ago,  close  upon  half  a  century, 
and  I  cannot  flatter  myself  that  any  of  you — even  the  oldest 
—have  any  personal  recollection  of  that  event.  Indeed,  I 
may  say  with  confidence,  that  I  am  the  only  person  who 
is  qualified  to  give  a  plain,  unvarnished  account  of  what 
happened  here  on  the  night  of  i8th  September,  1856,  when  the 
play  of*  Richelieu'  was  produced  at  the  Lyceum  Theatre ;  and 
not  only  that  evening  is  vivid  in  my  memory,  but  the  whole 
preceding  fortnight,  for  such  was  my  eagerness  to  lose  no 
opportunity,  to  leave  nothing  to  chance,  that  I  arrived  in  Sun- 
derland before  the  theatre  was  built.  The  first  night  was 
passed  at  an  hotel,  and  there,  too,  my  advent  was  premature. 
The  magnificence  of  hotels  was  not  suited  to  that  period  of 
my  apprenticeship,  so  I  took  a  lodging  a  mile  or  two  out  of 
the  town,  and  walked  in  every  morning  to  superintend  the 
building  operations,  and  to  wonder  how  on  earth  they  would 


1856]  SUNDERLAND  21 

be  finished  in  time  for  my  first  appearance  on  any  stage.  Well, 
the  builders  did  finish  their  work — perhaps,  after  all,  they  knew 
what  was  at  stake — and  '  Richelieu '  was  prepared  with  most 
disconcerting  haste ;  and  the  boy,  full  of  trembling  hope,  saw  the 
curtain  which  shielded  him  from  the  audience  rise  abruptly, 
and  then  he  had  to  speak  the  opening  words  of  the  play — 
'  Here's  to  our  enterprise! '  Gaston,  Duke  of  Orleans,  is  re- 
presented by  the  dramatist  as  a  bit  of  a  craven,  but  he  could 
never  have  been  so  afraid  of  the  Cardinal  as  I  was  of 
Sunderland  when  I  tried  to  utter  those  words.  I  cannot 
truthfully  say — for  I  feel  the  responsibility  of  being  the  only 
witness — I  cannot  truthfully  say  that  he  did  utter  them.  *  Our 
enterprise,'  my  enterprise,  stuck  in  his  throat.  At  any  rate, 
it  made  entirely  the  wrong  impression,  for  one  critic  of  that 
performance  urged  the  actor  to  take  the  first  steamer  back  to 
his  comfortable  home,  and  abandon  all  idea  of  pursuing  a  vo- 
cation for  which  he  was  manifestly  unfitted.  I  remember  so 
well  that  the  '  first  steamer '  was  recommended,  not  the  first 
train,  and  I  suppose  the  critic  wanted  to  associate  my  peni- 
tential departure  with  the  thriving  sea  traffic  of  your  great  port, 
and  so  point  the  contrast  between  my  final  discomfiture  and 
your  increasing  prosperity.  Certainly  the  voyage  would  have 
given  me  ample  time  to  ponder  the  enormity  of  my  presump- 
tion. But  I  did  not  go.  I  stayed  here  five  months,  learning 
useful  lessons  of  perseverance  by  the  helpful  kindness  of  my 
old  manager,  Mr.  E.  D.  Davis,  and  of  the  Sunderland  play- 
goers, whom  I  found  to  be  extremely  patient,  for  they  received 
me  with  the  utmost  good  humour  in  the  singing  part  of  Henry 
Bertram,  for  which  my  confiding  manager  had  cast  me,  as 
adequate  support  to  Charlotte  Cushman  in  her  great  character 
of  Merrilies." 

From  another  account,  furnished  by  Mr.  Alfred  Davis,  the 
son  of  the  manager  of  the  Sunderland  theatre,  it  seems  that 
Henry  Irving  did  actually  speak  that  oft-quoted  line,  "  Here's 
to  our  enterprise !  "  —the  first  words  in  "  Richelieu  "•  —on  this  his- 
toric occasion.  "  The  words  of  the  speech  had  in  them,"  said 
Mr.  Davis,  "  almost  a  prophetic  tone  of  aspiration  and  success. 


22          THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING    [CHAP.  n. 

So  busy  was  I  in  front,  and  behind  the  scenes,  that  I  was 
barely  able  to  reach  my  place  on  the  stage  in  time  for  the  ris- 
ing of  the  curtain.  I  kept  my  back  to  the  audience  till  my 
cue  to  speak  was  given,  all  the  while  buttoning  up,  tying  and 
finishing  my  dressing  generally,  so  that  scant  attention  would 
be  given  to  others.  But,  even  under  these  circumstances,  I 
was  compelled  to  notice,  and  with  perfect  appreciation,  the 
great  and  most  minute  care  which  had  been  bestowed  by  our 
aspirant  on  the  completion  of  his  costume.  In  those  days, 
managers  provided  the  mere  dress.  Accessories,  in  'pro- 
perties,' as  they  were  called,  were  found  by  the  actor.  Henry 
Irving  was,  from  his  splendid  white  hat  and  feathers,  to  the 
tips  of  his  shoes,  a  perfect  picture  ;  and,  no  doubt,  had  borrowed 
his  authority  from  some  historical  picture  of  the  Louis  XIII. 
period."  The  new  house,  curiously  enough,  in  the  light  of 
after  events,  was  called  the  Lyceum ;  Alfred  Davis  was  the 
Sieur  de  Beringhen  in  Bulwer  Lytton's  play,  Richelieu  being 
taken  by  the  proprietor  and  manager  of  the  theatre,  E.  D. 
Davis.  The  programme  concluded  with  a  burlesque,  "The 
Enchanted  Lake,"  in  which  Irving  was  one  of  five  cooks.  On 
the  next  evening,  he  was  the  second  officer  in  "The  Lady  of 
Lyons  ".  During  the  week,  "  The  Merchant  of  Venice  "  was 
given  with  an  actor  who  was  afterwards  engaged  by  Irving  for 
some  of  his  productions  at  the  Lyceum  as  Shylock.  This  was 
Thomas  Mead.  Another  actor  remembered  by  Irving  when 
he  had  become  famous,  and  long  a  member  of  his  Lyceum 
company,  was  Samuel  Johnson,  the  low  comedian  of  Irving's 
first  season  on  the  stage.  Still  later  on,  Alfred  Davis  came 
to  the  Lyceum  for  work,  and  found  it. 

Despite  his  nervousness,  Irving's  first  week  in  Sunderland 
passed  off  creditably.  But  he  was  much  discomfited  when 
called  upon  to  play  Cleomenes  in  "  The  Winter's  Tale,"  an  un- 
dertaking with  which  he  had  to  "  double  "  the  part  of  a  "  third 
gentleman  ".  The  part  is  a  fairly  long  one  for  a  novice,  and, 
unfortunately  for  the  aspirant  to  theatrical  honours,  the  re- 
vival was  fixed  for  the  Monday.  Irving's  religious  train- 
ing had  taught  him  to  hold  Sunday  as  a  day  of  rest,  and, 


1857]  HIS  FIRST  SALARY  23 

relying  upon  his  powers  of  study,  he  left  the  learning  of  his 
words  until  the  day  of  the  performance.  The  result  was 
unforeseen,  almost  disastrous.  All  went  well  until  the  fifth 
act,  when  the  young  actor  completely  forgot  his  words,  and, 
interpolating  some  lines  from  another  play,  exclaimed,  to  the 
astonishment  of  his  comrades  on  the  stage,  "Come  on  to  the 
market-place,  and  I'll  tell  you  further,"  and  vanished  into  the 
wings.  His  manager,  however,  put  down  his  failure  to  the 
natural  nervousness  of  the  novice,  and,  instead  of  dispensing 
with  his  services,  gave  him  some  sound,  practical  advice.  It 
is  also  more  than  probable  that  Mr.  Davis  bore  in  mind  the 
fact  that,  for  the  first  month  of  his  engagement,  young  Irving 
received  no  financial  reward  for  his  services.  Nor  did  he 
receive  any  other  encouragement,  for  the  newspaper  notice  of 
his  acting  in  Sunderland  which  has  come  down  to  us  con- 
demned him  severely.  "The  minor  parts,"  said  the  local 
critic,  "were  creditably  performed,  with  the  exception  of 
Cleomenes,  by  Mr.  Irving,  who  utterly  ruined  the  last  scene 
but  one,  where  he  should  have  described  Leontes'  discovery 
of  his  daughter.  He  came  on  the  stage  without  knowing 
a  single  word  of  his  part,  and,  although  he  had  the  cue  pitched 
at  him  by  the  prompter  in  a  tone  loud  enough  to  be  heard  in 
most  parts  of  the  house,  he  was  unable  to  follow  it,  and  was 
compelled  to  walk  off  the  stage  amid  a  shower  of  hisses." 
This  was  an  unpromising  beginning,  but  it  had  its  lesson,  for 
it  was  the  first  and  last  time  that  such  a  fault  was  ever  com- 
mitted by  Henry  Irving.  He  remained  in  Sunderland  until 
February,  and,  although  he  had  made  such  progress  that  Mr. 
Davis  would  have  gladly  retained  him,  he  decided  to  go  to 
Edinburgh,  where  he  had  obtained  an  engagement  which 
proved  most  advantageous  to  him.  In  addition  to  Charlotte 
Cushman,  Miss  Glyn,  Sims  Reeves,  Ira  Aldridge — "the 
African  Roscius,"  as  the  coloured  tragedian  was  called — and 
other  players  of  importance  appeared  in  Sunderland  during 
Irving' s  stay  there.  So  that  he  had  the  opportunity  of  seeing 
much  acting  that  was  exceedingly  good  and  of  great  variety. 
After  the  first  month,  he  received  a  salary  of  twenty-five 


24          THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  n. 

shillings  a  week — a  fair  wage  for  a  beginner  on  the  stage 
half  a  century  ago  and  even  later  still. 

The  Edinburgh  engagement  was  of  vast  importance  to  the 
young  actor.  It  lasted  for  two  and  a  half  years,  during  which 
he  played  a  marvellous  number  of  parts.  He  also  had  the  ad- 
vantage of  studying  the  methods  of  the  best  representatives  of 
the  old  school  of  acting.  To  say  that  he  worked  assiduously 
during  this  period  is  only  to  indicate  one  of  the  merits  which 
marked  his  life-work.  Ever  ardent  and  alert  in  the  pursuit 
of  his  art,  he  was  singled  out  in  these  early  days  for  the 
scrupulous  care  with  which  he  dressed  his  parts  and  for  the 
exactitude  of  his  facial  make-up.  More  important  still,  he 
was  almost  invariably  letter-perfect.  He  was  constantly  held 
out  in  these  three  paramount  points  of  the  threatrical  embryo 
as  a  model  for  the  other  members  of  the  company.  Naturally 
enough,  his  perfection  in  these  particulars  created  a  certain 
amount  of  envy,  but  it  won  him  a  great  deal  of  admiration. 
And,  in  later  years,  it  was  a  tremendous  aid  to  him.  He  was 
by  nature  thorough  and  determined.  His  work  in  Edinburgh, 
and,  subsequently,  in  Manchester,  strengthened  these  innate 
qualities,  and,  as  he  grew  in  years  so  they  developed,  helping 
him  to  the  summit  of  his  ambition  and  never  being  allowed 
to  desert  him.  He  was  only  just  nineteen  years  of  age  when 
he  began  his  engagement  in  Edinburgh,  but,  before  he  was 
twenty,  he  had  made  his  mark,  and  the  press,  which  was 
much  more  out-spoken  half  a  century  ago  than  it  is  at  present, 
had  recognised  his  good  qualities.  It  had  also  noted  some 
of  his  defects.  His  manager  here  was  R.  H.  Wyndham. 

The  bill  of  the  play  for  Saturday,  7th  February,  1857, 
heralded  the  return  to  Edinburgh,  after  an  absence  of  eight 
years,  of  Barry  Sullivan,  an  admirable  actor  in  a  deep-voiced, 
physically-strong  fashion,  who  was  justly  popular  in  the  north 
of  England,  particularly  in  Liverpool  and  Manchester,  and  in 
Dublin.  One  of  the  parts  in  which  he  drew  crowded  houses 
was  Richelieu,  and  it  was  in  the  familiar  role  of  Gaston,  Duke 
of  Orleans,  that  Henry  Irving  first  played  at  the  Theatre 
Royal,  Edinburgh,  the  Irish  tragedian  being  the  Cardinal. 


1857]  EDINBURGH  25 

He  was  again  chosen  for  this  part  some  three  weeks  later, 
when  an  actor  whose  name  has  long  passed  away,  was  the 
Richelieu.  On  the  latter  occasion,  "  Richelieu"  was  followed 
by  a  "  grand  ballet  divertissement,"  the  programme  conclud- 
ing with  a  lively  nautical  drama  entitled  "The  Pilot,"  which 
painted  in  very  glowing  colours  the  supremacy  of  the  British 
navy.  Its  chief  character  was  Long  Tom  Coffin,  who  had  a 
truly  "desperate  combat"  with  a  rival.  The  piece  concluded 
with  a  "general  combat  and  the  final  triumph  of  the  British 
Flag".  For  those  were  the  days  of  patriotism.  It  is  also  to 
be  observed  that  the  audience  had  plenty  for  their  money  at 
that  period.  A  ballet  and  a  fairly  long  after-piece — in  which, 
by  the  way,  Irving's  part  was  a  small  one — may  be  considered 
a  pretty  good  return  for  a  place  in  the  gallery  for  sixpence  or 
a  seat  for  half  a  crown — the  highest  price — in  the  dress-circle. 
The  doors  were  opened  at  seven  o'clock  each  evening,  with 
the  exception  of  Saturday,  when  half-past  six  was  the  time, 
the  performance  beginning  half  an  hour  later. 

Between  his  two  appearances  as  Gaston  at  the  Theatre 
Royal,  Irving  acted  several  minor  parts  including  that  of  Baron 
Giordine  in  "The  Corsican  Brothers"  and  another  "walking 
gentleman,"  Antoine,  Sieur  de  Courcy,  an  esquire  to  the 
Court,  in  a  five-act  melodrama  "The  Cagot!  or  Heart  for 
Heart".  In  the  middle  of  March,  an  "actress  and  pantomi- 
mist"  appeared  in  Edinburgh  whose  advent  was  so  important 
that  it  was  advertised  that  "during  the  engagement  of  this 
distinguished  Artiste  the  complimentary  Free  List  (with  the 
exception  of  the  Gentlemen  of  the  Press)  will  be  entirely 
suspended  ".  The  "  Gentlemen  of  the  Press  "  is  good.  They 
were  polite  to  newspaper  critics  in  those  times.  The  "distin- 
guished artiste"  was  Madame  Celeste,  who  took  the  title  role 
in  a  drama  called  "The  Mysterious  Stranger".  She  also 
essayed  four  other  characters,  with  an  additional  mark  of 
exclamation  to  each,  so  that  when  the  celebrated  actress  had 
arrived  on  the  programme  at  the  part  of  a  Young  French 
Officer — having,  in  the  meantime,  impersonated  a  Wild 
French  Boy,  an  Italian  Prima  Donna,  and  a  Polish  Princess 


26  THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  n. 

— she  had  won  the  distinction  of  being  set  down  as  "  Madame 
Celeste  !  !  !  !  ! "  Irving's  part  was  a  minor  one,  that  of 
Captain  Gasconade.  It  is  unnecessary  to  enumerate  in  this 
place  all  the  characters  which  fell  to  the  lot  of  the  young  actor 
during  his  first  twelve  months  in  Edinburgh,  but  it  may  be 
noted  that,  during  May,  he  played  some  Shakespearean  parts 
which  prove  conclusively  that  he  had  earned  the  good  opinion 
of  his  manager.  These  were  Horatio  in  "  Hamlet,"  Banquo 
in  "  Macbeth,"  and  Catesby  in  "  King  Richard  III."  He 
often  thought  of  his  early  training  when  he  was  playing  the 
chief  characters  in  these  tragedies  at  the  Lyceum.  In  June  of 
this  year,  1857,  he  met  an  actor  who  became  his  life-long 
friend,  John  Laurence  Toole.  The  comedian  appeared  as 
Autolycus  in  a  burlesque  of  <(The  Winter's  Tale,"  Irving 
being  the  Camillo.  With  Toole  as  Paul  Pry,  he  acted 
Harry  Stanley  in  Poole's  comedy  ;  and  he  played  Dazzle 
in  "  London  Assurance,"  the  star  of  Dion  Boucicault's 
comedy  being  Sir  William  Don,  Bart.,  whose  title  was  a 
greater  attraction  than  his  acting.  He  also  acted  various 
other  characters  with  this  gentleman,  including  one  that  is 
known  to  many  playgoers  of  a  later  generation —  Charley  the 
Carpenter,  in  the  "screaming  farce,"  as  it  was  called,  of 
"Good  for  Nothing". 

He  then  had  the  advantage  of  appearing  with  Helen  Faucit, 
in  "Cymbeline,"  and  we  have  an  interesting  reminiscence 
from  an  Edinburgh  resident  who  witnessed  Irving's  perform- 
ance. This  admirer  subsequently  recalled  the  experience : 
"Charles  Dickens  somewhere  remarked  that,  'The  check- 
taker  never  sees  the  play  ; '  but  on  this  occasion  it  happened 
otherwise,  for  the  Bed-chamber  scene  in  Act  1 1.  was  proceeding 
as  my  check  was  demanded — in  the  gallery,  of  course — whither 
I  had  betaken  myself.  This  impressive  scene  had  a  powerful 
effect,  as  may  be  supposed ;  and  'When  the  well-bred  actor/ 
etc. — the  following  scene,  charged  as  it  is  with  the  charming 
song,  '  Hark,  hark,  the  lark ' — was  barely  listened  to  until 
Imogen  again  appears,  and  at  every  turn  scathes  poor  Cloten. 
Towards  the  end  of  that  scene,  Pisanio — 


i857]         ACTS  WITH  HELEN  FAUCIT  27 

A  sly  and  constant  knave ;  not  to  be  shak'd — 
The  agent  for  his  master — 

came  on  the  stage — a  tall,  thin,  angular,  nervous-looking 
young  man,  and  a  stranger  evidently.  Says  the  check-taker, 
in  answer  to  a  question,  '  That's  a  young  man  lately  joined 
the  company.  He's  on  his  mettle,  and  will  give  a  good 
account  of  himself  to-night.'  This  was  the  future  tragedian, 
Henry  Irving.  Pale  and  anxious  he  looked,  and  eager  to  do 
his  best  with  his  limited  stock  of  stagecraft,  hitherto  perfect. 
I  well  remember  he  went  through  the  trying  business  of  Scene 
II.,  Act  III.,  but  made  no  special  impression,  overshadowed 
as  he  was  by  the  greater  genius.  Nevertheless,  tyro  as  he 
was,  he  held  his  own,  and  soon  afterwards  shared  in  the 
triumphs  of  that  memorable  evening.  It  does  take  an  audience 
some  little  time  to  discriminate  the  smaller  lights  when  a  bril- 
liant genius  is  ever  and  again  on  the  stage,  and  when  the 
thoughts  of  all  are  wrapt  in  the  representation  of  a  character 
to  which  he  or  she  is  the  only  adequate  exponent.  That 
the  soliloquy  and  scene  previous  to  that  now  to  be  referred 
to  more  particularly  was  acceptable  to  the  audience  must  be 
inferred,  as  it  paved  the  way  for  what  followed.  In  Scene  IV., 
Act.  III.,  wherein  the  agony  of  Imogen  is  delineated,  and 
where  the  now  doubly  'constant  Pisanio'  has  but  little  to 
speak,  but  much  to  act,  the  audience  seemed  spell-bound— 
and  so  also  seemed  the  trembling  neophyte.  Standing  in 
the  centre,  facing  the  rapt  audience,  with  the  great  queen  of 
tragedy  kneeling  before  him  racked  with  anguish  caused  by 
foul  slander  on  a  fair  soul,  she  draws  Pisanio's  sword,  and, 
forcing  it  into  his  hand,  reiterating  her  husband's  order,  '  Do 
his  bidding,  strike ! '  the  pent-up  feeling  in  the  honest  servitor's 
soul  finds  vent  in  the  passionate  :— 

Hence,  vile  instrument ; 

Thou  shalt  not  damn  my  hand  ! 

This  was  said  when  and  as  it  should  be  said,  and  the  sword 
flung  off  the  stage.  The  effect  was  electrical,  and  a  round 
of  hearty  plaudits  resounded  from  all  parts  of  the  house  on 
the  instant.  The  expression  is  often  heard  of  a  great  actor 


28          THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  n. 

'reading  Shakespeare  by  flashes  of  lightning'.  This  was 
one  flash,  and  an  early  one,  from  an  actor  who  has  now  earned 
his  name.  Even  here  the  inspiration  of  author  and  actress 
must  have  lifted  him  up,  for  the  harmony  was  complete." 

With  the  Christmas  season,  we  find  Irving  as  Scruncher, 
the  Captain  of  the  Wolves,  in  the  pantomime  of  "  Little 
Bo-Peep".  All  these  parts  had  been  played  by  him  at  the 
Theatre  Royal.  But  in  November  of  this  same  year, 
Wyndham  had  taken  a  lease  of  the  Queen's  Theatre  and 
Opera  House,  and  here,  on  the  28th  of  that  month,  Irving 
played  Montano  in  "  Othello,"  and,  on  the  i4th  of  December, 
Rashleigh  Osbaldistone  in  "  Rob  Roy".  On  26th  February, 
1858,  the  last  appearance  in  Edinburgh  of  Henry  Vandenhoff 
was  announced.  He  played  Cardinal  Wolsey  in  "  King 
Henry  VIII.,"  the  part  of  the  Earl  of  Surrey  being  allotted 
to  Irving  who,  it  will  be  gathered,  was  kept  employed  at  both 
theatres — in  Shakespeare  Square  and  Leith  Walk. 

This  year  was  a  memorable  one  in  the  early  career  of  the 
young  actor,  for  he  now  began  to  attract  considerable  attention 
in  the  local  press.  The  first  page  in  his  book  of  extracts,  cut 
from  the  Edinburgh  press,  is  of  great  interest.  It  is  headed, 
in  his  own  handwriting,  1858,  and  the  initial  comment  is  as 
follows :  "  Mr.  Irving,  although  somewhat  new  to  the  stage, 
is  rapidly  becoming  a  good  performer.  A  little  more  firm- 
ness would  aid  him  considerably ;  but  we  think  we  see  symp- 
toms of  his  gaining  this,  and  counsel  him  to  continue.  One 
thing  in  his  favour,  he  is  generally  perfect."  We  can  imagine 
with  what  gladness  the  earnest  young  actor  gummed  these 
encouraging  words  into  his  scrap-book !  The  second  extract 
must  also  have  helped  him  in  his  endeavour  :  "  Mr.  Irving  is 
still  rather  nervous,  but  is  holding  on  the  right  path  to  secure 
public  esteem".  As  the  disagreeable  Beauseant  in  "The 
Lady  of  Lyons"  he  acted  "so  well  that  some  of  the  audience 
in  the  closing  scene  were  inclined  to  show  their  joy  at  his  losing 
the  hand  of  Pauline  in  a  rather  offensive  manner — no  mean 
testimony  to  the  ability  evinced  in  the  part".  Fergus 
Connor  in  Westland  Marston's  domestic  drama,  "A  Hard 


1858]  A  FEAT  OF  MEMORY  29 

Struggle,"  brought  him  still  more  notice.  He  rendered  the 
character,  wrote  one  of  the  daily  papers,  "  we  need  hardly  say, 
with  care  and  good  taste,  and,  we  may  add,  with  a  depth  of 
feeling  worthy  of  wider  scope  than  the  part  afforded.  No 
playgoer  can  have  failed  to  notice  the  steady  and  rapid  pro- 
gress which  this  young  actor  is  making  in  his  profession,  in 
which  we  have  no  doubt  his  perseverance  and  ability  will  at 
no  distant  day  gain  him  a  high  position.  In  the  study  ap- 
parent in  all  his  personations,  and  the  invariable  finish  and 
propriety  of  his  'make-up,'  it  would  be  well  if  some  other 
members  of  the  company  would  try  to  imitate  him."  On 
another  occasion,  his  acting  did  not  meet  with  the  approbation 
of  a  section  of  the  spectators,  or,  as  is  not  unlikely,  the  rise  of 
the  young  player  was  not  to  the  advantage  of  some  other 
members  of  the  company.  "  We  noticed  with  regret,"  said 
one  of  the  newspapers,  "a  disposition  on  the  part  of  a  certain 
class  amongst  the  audience  to  receive  Mr.  Irving  with  marked 
disapprobation.  Mr.  Irving  is  a  young  actor  of  greater  promise 
and  intelligence  than  any  who  have  appeared  in  the  ranks  of 
the  Edinburgh  company  for  a  long  time,  and  bids  fair,  when 
he  has  acquired  wider  stage  experience,  and  smoothed  down 
certain  trifling  mannerisms,  to  occupy  a  creditable  position  in 
his  profession.  His  performances  are  generally  marked  by 
careful  study,  and  his  conception,  if  not  always  correct,  invari- 
ably displays  thought  and  feeling." 

Thus  early  did  his  efforts  encounter  opposition,  and  the 
iron  entered  his  soul.  For,  in  taking  leave  of  Edinburgh  some 
twelve  months  later,  he  spoke  of  these  uncomplimentary  hisses. 
On  the  other  hand,  he  was  constantly  encouraged  by  judicious 
criticism,  and  he  pursued  his  course  with  unfaltering  zeal. 
Thus  in  "An  Hour  at  Seville" — a  piece  written  for  Mrs. 
Barney  Williams,  who  played  no  less  than  eight  parts  in  it— 
he  had  a  long  and  arduous  character  to  sustain  as  Mr. 
Peregrine  Pyefinch.  Moreover,  he  had  no  opportunity  of 
leaving  the  stage  and  refreshing  his  memory,  so  that  "  the  feat 
of  being  almost  perfect  in  words  was  of  itself  no  mean  triumph. 
But  when  we  state  that  he  was  not  only  perfect,  or  nearly  so, 


30          THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  n. 

in  the  words  of  the  part — but  that  he  acted  throughout  (despite 
a  little  nervousness)  with  a  quiet  ease  and  gentlemanly  humour 
which  perfectly  fitted  his  part,  we  are  only  stating  the  truth  ; 
and  we  feel  assured  the  audience  quite  appreciated  his  exer- 
tions". In  order  to  realise  this  praise,  it  must  be  borne 
in  mind  that  he  frequently  played  three  parts — some  of  which 
were  entirely  new — in  one  night.  At  this  time,  he  was  con- 
tinually complimented  on  his  care  and  earnestness,  on  his 
feeling,  intelligence,  and  good  taste.  He  had  also  arrived 
at  the  dignity  of  being  called  before  the  curtain,  for,  when  he 
played  Charles  in  "  London  Assurance,"  "the  audience  ex- 
pressed their  delight  at  the  performance"  by  summoning  all 
the  "stars"  of  the  cast — and  Mr.  Irving.  He  had  another 
interesting  experience  in  the  pantomime  which  was  produced 
during  the  winter  season  of  1858  at  the  Theatre  Royal.  At 
the  first  blush,  it  would  not  seem  that  Venoma,  a  spiteful  fairy, 
could  do  much  to  enhance  the  fame  of  a  serious  young  actor. 
Her  abode  formed  the  opening  scene  of  the  pantomime,  and, 
according  to  a  contemporary  chronicle,  it  was  "a  gruesome 
place  enough.  Here  we  find  the  old  hag  'frizzling  and  grizz- 
ling '  herself  on  a  gridiron.  Not  willingly  does  she  submit  to 
this  unpleasant  form  of  heating  ;  a  stronger  power  had  doomed 
her  to  that  punishment  for  fifty  years,  which  period  has  all  but 
expired  when  we  make  her  acquaintance."  It  is  difficult  to 
see  where  originality  could  have  scope  in  such  a  part,  yet, 
"  Mr.  Irving's  personation  stamps  him  as  an  actor  of  more 
than  average  ability.  This  gentleman  is  well  worthy  of 
praise ;  whatever  character  he  undertakes  he  invariably 
exerts  himself  to  the  utmost  to  give  it  effect.  His  'make-up,' 
as  it  is  termed,  is  perfect."  By  what  standard  the  make-up 
of  a  wicked  fairy  in  a  pantomime  is  to  be  judged,  is  somewhat 
of  a  mystery.  But  that  of  Irving  as  Venoma  must  have  been 
extremely  effective,  for  another  critic  found  it  "astonishingly 
correct,  even  to  the  most  minute  detail". 

Much  more  important  work  than  the  playing  of  the  evil 
genius  of  a  pantomime  came  with  the  turn  of  the  year.  And 
this  new  work  won  fresh  honours  and  more  encourage- 


1859]  HIS  FIRST  SUCCESS  31 

ment.  In  February,  1859,  a  play  called  "  Hamilton  of 
Bothwellhaugh,  or  the  Regent  Murray  of  Linlithgow,"  was 
produced  at  the  Royal.  Irving  had,  as  Cyril  Baliol,  a  priest, 
to  pourtray  a  character  which  was  described  as  being  lago- 
like.  "It  would  be  unjust  to  many  great  actors  who  have 
failed  as  lago  to  say  that  Mr.  Irving's  rendering  of  Cyril 
Baliol  was  perfect,  but  it  is  only  'fair  to  a  talented  and  pains- 
taking young  artist  to  state  that  he  succeeded  to  a  degree 
even  beyond  the  anticipation  of  his  warmest  admirers."  So 
said  one  of  the  daily  papers.  The  continuation  of  this  criticism 
is  instructive  inasmuch  as  it  throws  a  side-light  on  his  acting 
at  this  time  :  "  The  quality  Mr.  Irving's  characterisation  most 
lacked  was  subtlety,  its  absence  being  less  conspicuous  in  his 
voice  and  face  than  in  his  occasionally  hurried  manner  of 
stepping  across  the  stage".  It  is  easy  to  understand  that 
nervousness  would  give  the  rapidity  of  movement  to  the 
actor,  which  time  taught  him  to  control.  Even  so,  that 
subtlety  which  was  present  to  so  large  a  degree  in  his  later 
acting,  was  not  manifest  at  the  outset  of  his  career.  He  was 
slowly,  but  surely,  meeting  with  recognition  from  the  critical 
press.  The  part  of  Cyril  Baliol — a  plotting  priest — was  a 
considerable  advancement  for  him.  "We  have  had  occasion 
frequently  to  speak  in  high  terms  of  the  acting  of  Mr.  Irving," 
wrote  another  leading  journal,  "but  we  were  unprepared 
for  his  powerful  delineation  of  the  part  of  Cyril  Baliol.  It 
completely  eclipses  any  of  his  previous  efforts,  much  as  they 
are  entitled  to  praise  ;  it  is,  in  one  word,  one  of  the  best  pieces 
of  acting  we  have  witnessed  for  a  considerable  time.  We 
will  not  go  so  far  as  to  assert  that  it  is  altogether  perfection, 
but  this  much  we  will  say,  that  the  faults  are  so  few  that  we 
can  easily  afford  to  overlook  them.  He  was  honoured  with 
a  call  at  the  end  of  the  third  act,  and  though  we  are  no 
advocates  for  this  custom,  which  would  in  many  instances  be 
'  more  honoured  in  the  breach  than  in  the  observance/  yet  we 
think  by  his  excellent  acting  he  fairly  won  the  honour  so- 
called  ".  In  another  play,  called  "  The  Vagrant,"  brought  out 
at  this  time,  he  was  given  the  chief  part  somewhat  to  the  as- 


32  THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  n. 

tonishment  of  this  same  discriminating  critic,  who  confessed  to 
being  "not  a  little  surprised  to  find"  Mr.  Irving  as  the  lead- 
ing character,  "it  being  a  part  so  different  from  any  we  have 
been  accustomed  to  see  him  in.  It  is  but  justice  to  state  that 
we  were  both  surprised  and  gratified  with  his  performance. 
It  occurs  to  us  that  he  is  making  rapid  strides  in  his  profes- 
sion ;  and  it  would  be  well  if  some  of  the  other  members  of 
the  company,  on  whom  we  have  our  eye,  were  to  pay  as 
much  attention,  both  to  the  business  of  the  stage  and  to  their 
style  of  dressing  or  '  getting-up,'  as  they  call  it,  as  he  invari- 
ably does."  This,  it  will  be  observed,  was  not  the  first  time 
that  he  had  been  held  up  as  a  model  for  his  fellow  players, 
who  could  hardly  have  loved  him  for  the  admonishment. 
The  management,  however,  made  due  note  of  his  ability,  and 
we  find  him,  in  March,  appearing  as  Coitier  to  the  Louis  XI. 
of  Charles  Dillon  and  as  the  King  to  that  actor's  Hamlet. 
This  was  advancement  indeed. 

In  short,  with  his  impersonation  of  Cyril  Baliol  he  emerged 
from  the  humble  position  of  the  mere  tyro.  He  met  with  a 
considerable  amount  of  criticism,  but  it  was  never  harsh, 
never  calculated  to  wound  as  was  some  of  that  which  he  ex- 
perienced when  he  had  attained  celebrity.  This,  for  instance, 
was  written  in  a  spirit  of  friendliness  :  "  We  notice  in  this 
gentleman's  acting  a  slight  tendency  to  mannerism — parti- 
cularly in  his  walk  and  gestures  ;  we  pray  him  to  avoid  that, 
and  to  walk  as  nature  dictates,  not  as  actors  strut.  Mr. 
Irving  is  sure  to  rise  in  his  profession,  and  he  can  quite  afford 
to  take  our  hints  in  the  spirit  in  which  they  are  meant." 
The  criticism,  like  the  prophecy,  was  good.  It  should  be 
observed  that  his  peculiar  gait  was  noticed  at  the  outset  of  his 
career,  for  it  has  been  said  that  he  cultivated  it  with  a  view  to 
notoriety.  On  the  contrary,  it  was  natural  to  him,  and  it 
says  much  for  his  personality  that  the  spectator — who  was  not 
actually  opposed  to  him — never  thought  twice  of  his  walk 
after  witnessing  one  of  his  performances.  That  he  valued 
the  Edinburgh  criticism  is  proved  by  the  fact  that  he  kept  it. 
That  his  walk  was  a  real  detriment  to  him  at  this  time  is 


1859]  SUCCESS  IN  BURLESQUE  33 

shown  by  his  being  given  the  parts  of  Fag  in  "The  Rivals" 
and  Careless  in  "The  School  for  Scandal"-— characters  in 
which  the  strut  of  which  complaint  was  made  was  unsuited. 
His  progress  was  continuous.  Four  nights  prior  to  the  clos- 
ing of  the  old  Theatre  Royal,  "  Macbeth,"  was  revived. 
But,  instead  of  Banquo,  as  two  years  previously,  he  now 
acted  Macduff.  On  the  last  night  of  the  old  house,  "  Masks 
and  Faces"  was  the  chief  item  in  the  programme,  with  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Wyndham  as  Triplet  and  Peg  Woffington.  Irving 
was  the  Soaper,  and  in  the  farce,  "His  Last  Legs,"  he  played 
Charley.  This  was  on  25th  May,  1859. 

Wyndham  now  took  possession  of  the  Queen's  Theatre, 
which  he  opened  under  royal  letters  patent,  or  as  a  fully- 
licensed  house,  on  25th  June.  Here,  in  burlesque,  Irving 
made  two  of  his  greatest  successes,  and  on  its  stage  he  took 
leave  of  the  Edinburgh  public  before  his  departure  for  his 
first  venture  in  London.  In  a  burlesque  which  was  wonder- 
fully popular  in  its  day,  "The  Maid  and  the  Magpie,"  the 
"  most  cleverly  enacted  part  was,  undoubtedly,  the  Fernando 
Villabella  of  Mr.  Irving.  His  'make  up'  was  most  original, 
while  his  conception  of  the  character  was  no  less  so."  Again, 
"  Mr.  Irving — whom  we  are  sorry  that  we  are  going  to  loss 
so  soon — has  been  out-doing  himself,  and  giving  unmistak- 
able earnest  of  his  success  in  the  new  and  more  important 
sphere  upon  which  he  is  about  to  enter.  His  'make-up'  as 
a  refugee,  and  his  rendering  of  the  part  in  *  The  Maid  and 
Magpie,'  were  really  beyond  all  praise."  His  make-up  was 
often  alluded  to,  and  always  in  terms  of  commendation,  at 
this  time.  It  was  much  praised  in  William  Brough's 
burlesque  of  "  Kenil  worth,"  in  which  he  appeared  as  Way  land 
Smith.  The  critics  fell  foul  of  the  travesty,  and  of  a  certain 
"popular  comedian  " —one  Sydney — of  whose  voice  it  was 
said  that  "the  grinding  of  scissors  is  a  sound  comparatively 
soft  and  inoffensive  to  the  nerves  ".  Irving,  as  Way  land  Smith, 
made  his  first  entrance  in  a  half-famished  condition  at  a  fete 
at  which  Queen  Elizabeth  was  present,  and  upon  observing 

her  he  had  to  say,  "  Tis  long  since  I  beheld  a  sovereign  ". 
VOL.  i.  3 


34          THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  n. 

We  cannot  imagine  that  such  work  was  very  congenial  to  him. 
He  also  had,  in  common  with  some  of  the  other  members  of 
the  company,  to  take  part  in  "that  absurd  dancing,  which, 
having  been  successful  as  given  by  Mr.  Robson  and  one  or 
two  more,  has  now  been  taken  up  by  every  actor  on  the  stage. 
Mr.  Irving  is  perhaps  the  only  one  at  the  Queen's  who  does 
it  perfectly  well."  He  played  many  parts  in  those  months 
and  these  very  different  in  style — Dazzle  in  "  London  Assur- 
ance," King  James  in  "  Cramond  Brig,"  Ishmael  in  "The 
Flowers  of  the  Forest,"  Frank  Hawthorn  in  "  Extremes,"  and, 
once  more,  the  King  in  "  Hamlet".  A  few  nights  before  he 
left  Edinburgh  for  the  south,  his  acting  in  "  French  Before 
Breakfast"  caused  some  laconic  and  amusing  "criticism". 
"  As  to  Fader-de-She,"  said  the  North  Briton,  "  enacted  by 
Mr.  Irving,  one  may  just  repeat  the  rather  energetic  exclama- 
tion of  a  pit  critic — '  Damned  good  '." 

The  evening  of  Tuesday,  i3th  September,  1859,  was  a 
momentous  one  in  the  career  of  the  young  actor.  For  he 
then  bade  farewell  to  his  friends  of  the  press  and  the  public  in 
Edinburgh — he  had  many,  and  they  were  always  faithful  to 
him — in  the  character  of  Claude  Melnotte.  The  occasion 
called  forth  much  kindly  comment,  of  which  one  specimen 
will  suffice :  "We  observe  from  our  advertising  columns  that 
Mr.  Irving,  a  member  of  the  dramatic  company  of  the  Queen's 
Theatre,  is  about  to  take  a  farewell  benefit.  Mr.  Irving  is 
one  of  the  most  rising  actors  among  us ;  and  it  is  with  regret 
that  we  part  with  him.  Always  gentlemanly  in  his  deport- 
ment, his  conception  of  the  parts  he  undertook  was  just  and 
accurate ;  while  his  acting  was  marked  by  a  taste  and  an 
ability  that  give  promise  of  the  highest  excellence.  We  are 
sure  that  his  numerous  admirers  here  will  take  care  by  their 
presence  to  mark  their  strong  sense  of  Mr.  Irving's  talents, 
and  to  encourage  him  in  his  future  career." 

Mr.  Irving's  "numerous  admirers"  did  their  duty,  and 
there  was  what  used  to  be  described  as  a  "bumper  house". 
At  the  conclusion  of  "The  Lady  of  Lyons,"  the  hero  of  the 
night  came  forward,  and,  in  the  language  of  the  play-bill, 


1859]  HIS  FIRST  SPEECH  35 

addressed  a  few  words  to  his  friends.  This  was  his  first 
public  speech,  and,  for  a  man  of  twenty-one,  it  was  a  model 
of  modesty  and  diplomacy.  He  said  :  "  Ladies  and  gentle- 
men, I  feel  I  have  undertaken  rather  a  difficult  task — a  task 
in  which  I  fear  I  am  liable  to  be  charged  with  either  ingrati- 
tude or  presumption — ingratitude  if  I  go  away  without  saying 
good-bye  to  old  friends,  and  presumption  for  having  attempted 
to  do  so.  Still,  I  am  bound  to  speak.  It  is  now  three  years 
since  I  first  went  before  the  footlights  in  Sunderland,  and  a 
year  afterwards  I  was  transplanted  to  Edinburgh.  But  I 
was  a  long  time  before  I  succeeded  in  giving  you  satisfaction. 
(Cries  of  'No'  and  applause.)  I  was  sometimes  hissed  in 
this  theatre,  and  I  can  assure  you  that  thousands  of  plaudits 
do  not  give  half  so  much  pleasure  as  one  hiss  gives  pain,  more 
especially  to  a  young  actor.  But  I  am  very  glad  to  be  able 
to  think  that  I  have  won  your  esteem.  (Applause.)  I  am 
also  very  grateful  to  the  newspaper  press  for  the  encourage- 
ment they  have  given  me,  and  also  to  the  management  for  the 
many  excellent  and  suitable  parts  into  which  I  have  been 
cast.  In  bidding  you  farewell  in  order  to  fulfil  an  engagement 
in  a  larger  sphere  in  the  metropolis,  I  trust  it  is  not  the  last 
time  I  will  have  the  pleasure  of  appearing  before  you.  (Ap- 
plause.) Ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  now  bid  you  good-bye." 
At  the  end  of  his  brief  address,  the  actor  was  greeted  with 
hearty  cheers,  and,  with  the  plaudits  of  critical  Edinburgh 
ringing  in  his  ears,  he  set  out  for  London.  The  enormous 
amount  of  experience  which  he  obtained  during  his  first  three 
years  on  the  stage — in  reality,  allowing  for  the  summer  vaca- 
tions, only  two  and  a  half  working  years — may  be  imagined 
from  the  bare  idea  that  he  impersonated  no  less  than  four 
hundred  and  twenty-eight  characters.  When  we  take  into 
consideration  the  care  which  he  devoted  to  his  work,  this 
record  is  stupendous.  It  has  no  parallel  in  the  history  of  great 
actors.  Some  thirty-two  years  afterwards — in  November, 
1891 — when  addressing  the  Students'  Union  Dramatic  Society 
in  Edinburgh,  he  said  that  he  had  once  been  a  member  of  a 
university  there—- the  old  Theatre  Royal.  "  There  I  studied 

3* 


36          THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  n. 

for  two  years  and  a  half  my  beautiful  art,  and  there  I  learned 

the  lesson  which  you  will  all  learn  that- 
Deep  the  oak 

Must  sink  in  stubborn  earth  its  roots  obscure, 
That  hopes  to  lift  its  branches  to  the  sky." 

THE  ENTR'ACTE, 


EDINBURGH. — Mr.  George  Honey  has  been  the  attraction 
during  the  past  week.  Miss  St.  George  concluded  her  engage- 
ment on  Saturday  evening.  Mr.  Irving  has  also  left  for  the 
Princess*.  London.  A  contemporary  thus  sppaka  of  this  young 


actor: — "-We  have  frequently  adverted  to  the  rapid  progress 
Mr.  Irving  has  achieved  in  his  profession  by  unremitting  zeal 


and  stud.vT  but  on  the  occasion  of  his  .benefit  and"last  appear- 
ance, on  Tuesday  last,  he  excelled  all  his  previous  personations. 


ance.  on  Tuesday  last,  he  excelled  all  his  previous  personations. 
Some  may  have  deemed,  ^somewhat  ambitious  that  an  actor,  whfr 


Fas  not  been  quite  three  ygarson .the :  stage,  should"  attempt  the 
character  of  "CJ.aiideJ^jcfn'otte.'1  in  The  Lady  of  Lyons,  but  the 
which  Mr.  Irving  sustained  the  part,  efi'ectuaily"' 


finish  with   .  ...„  _^          ...  ._..  ^      , 

proved  thatlieliad  not  over-estimated  his  powers.    Thrice  was 


_ 
e  called  in  tho  course  of  the  piece  to  receive  the  plaudits  of  an 


and TagmoggplY  filled  house.     Mr.  Irving  took  leave 
m  a  most  modest  speech,  and  retired 


oniud_ their  encouraging 'adieux^     Miss T  J^anny  Jtleeves  and 


"Mr.  Jttliof  Galer  make  an  appearance  this  evening. 

SEPTEMBER  19,  1859. 


IRVING'S  SIGNATURE  IN  1859,  AS  IT  APPEARS  IN  HIS  SCRAP-BOOK,  UNDER  THE 
PRINTED  EXTRACT  ABOVE. 


CHAPTER  III. 

1859-1863. 

Irving's  first  appearance  in  London — His  great  disappointment — Suc- 
ceeds in  getting  released  from  his  engagement — Reads  from  "  The  Lady 
of  Lyons"  and  "Virginius"  at  Crosby  Hall — Favourable  verdict  of  the 
London  press — Replaces  an  old  favourite  in  Dublin — Hissed  and  hooted 
at  for  three  weeks — The  sequel — Plays  in  Glasgow  and  Greenock — Macduff 
— Manchester — Adolphe,  in  "The  Spy" — The  amatory  alchymist — His 
walk  and  elocution — Instructive  criticisms  in  the  Manchester  papers — 
Makes  a  success  as  Mr.  Dombey — Acts  with  Edwin  Booth — His  Claude 
Melnotte — The  Titan  Club — Thyrsites — Irving's  first  story — His  remem- 
brance of  a  kind  deed. 

BEFORE  coming  to  Henry  Irving's  first  appearance  in  London 
—which  took  place  in  the  same  month  as  that  in  which  he  left 
Edinburgh — it  is  necessary  to  set  right  a  mis-statement  which 
was  printed  in  a  biography  published  in  1893,  an  error  which 
has  crept  into  other  books  about  the  actor.  In  March,  1859, 
so  it  was  printed,  "  we  find  our  actor  at  the  old  Surrey 
Theatre,  playing  under  Mr.  Shepherd  and  Mr.  Creswick, 
for  *  a  grand  week  of  Shakespeare,  and  first-class  pieces,'  "  the 
part  of  Siward  being  attributed  by  the  writer  of  the  biography 
to  Irving.  These  statements  are  easily  disproved  by  certain 
facts  which  are  incontrovertible.  In  1883,  Henry  Irving 
gave  me  the  details  of  his  early  career,  and  these  details  in- 
cluded the  date  of  his  first  appearance  in  London  ;  in  1903, 
he  read  the  proof  of  a  biographical  sketch  which  was  orginally 
intended  for  inclusion  in  the  history  of  the  Lyceum  Theatre, 
but  which,  in  view  of  the  present  biography,  it  was  subse- 
quently decided  to  omit.  Again,  the  only  characters  which 
he  acted  in  "  Macbeth  "  —until  he  played  the  Thane  at  the 
Lyceum — were  Lay  ton,  Rosse,  Banquo,  and  Macduff. 
"  Lastly,  and  to  conclude,"  as  Dogberry  says,  he  was  fairly 

37 


38         THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  m. 

busy  in  Edinburgh  at  the  time,  for  in  the  particular  month 
mentioned  he  studied  and  played  the  following  important 
parts :  Coitier  in  "  Louis  XL,"  the  King  in  "  Hamlet," 
Rashleigh  Osbaldistone  in  "  Rob  Roy,"  and  Malcolm  Graeme 
in  "The  Lady  of  the  Lake,"  in  addition  to  King  Henry  IV. 
in  "Richard  III."  and  Jasper  Drysdale  in  "Mary  Queen 
of  Scots".  In  view  of  these  important  facts,  it  is  impossible 
to  understand  how  the  mistake  in  question  could  have  arisen. 
But  there  is  no  reason  why  it  should  be  perpetuated. 

We  have  seen  that  Henry  Irving  took  his  farewell  of 
Edinburgh  on  I3th  September,  1859.  On  the  24th  of  that 
month,  having  accepted  an  engagement  at  the  Princess's 
Theatre,  from  Augustus  Harris,  the  father  of  Augustus 
Harris — the  celebrated  producer  of  autumn  drama  and  panto- 
mime at  Drury  Lane — he  was  now  seen  for  the  first  time  on 
the  London  stage.  The  play  in  which  he  appeared  was  "Ivy 
Hall,"  an  adaptation  by  John  Oxenford,  the  dramatic  critic  of 
the  Times,  of  "  Le  Roman  d'un  Jeune  Homme  Pauvre". 
Much  to  his  amazement  and  discomfiture,  he  found  that  he 
had  only  half  a  dozen  lines  to  speak  at  the  commencement  of 
the  four-act  drama.  Very  wisely,  and  with  that  grim  deter- 
mination which  was  so  conspicuous  a  part  of  his  character,  he 
insisted  on  being  released  from  the  engagement.  In  vain 
did  the  manager  endeavour  to  make  him  change  his  mind. 
The  young  actor  gained  the  day,  he  was  released  from  his 
three  years'  contract,  and  he  resolved  not  to  accept  another 
engagement  in  London  until  he  could  see  his  way  to  doing  him- 
self justice.  While  still  at  the  Princess's  he  had  to  undertake 
a  task  which  must  have  been  very  uncongenial  to  the  Horatio 
and  Claudius  of  Edinburgh — he  was  called  upon  to  act 
Osric  to  the  Hamlet  of  an  actor  of  no  importance. 

His  personal  friends  in  London  had  been  somewhat 
mortified  by  the  treatment  meted  out  to  him  at  the  Princess's. 
He  therefore  gave  two  readings,  at  Crosby  Hall,  by  way  of 
showing  that  he  was  justified  in  his  ambition  as  an  actor  and 
in  proof  of  the  benefit  of  his  experience  in  Edinburgh.  On 
1 9th  December,  he  read  "The  Lady  of  Lyons,"  and,  on 


i86o]        READINGS  AT  CROSBY  HALL  39 

8th  February,  1860,  "  Virginius".  It  is  interesting,  after  the 
lapse  of  almost  half  a  century,  to  read  some  of  the  criticisms 
which  were  given  on  these  readings.  That  of  "The  Lady 
of  Lyons,"  according  to  the  Daily  Telegraph  "was  char- 
acterised by  considerable  ability,  and  showed  a  correct  ap- 
preciation of  the  several  characters  and  of  the  spirit  of  the 
dramatist.  Mr.  Irving  possesses  a  good  voice,  and  combines 
with  it  dramatic  power  of  no  mean  order  ;  and,  judging  from 
his  performance  on  this  occasion,  he  is  likely  to  make  a  name 
for  himself  in  the  profession  of  his  choice."  The  Standard 
remarked  that  his  delineations  of  the  various  characters  were 
admirably  graphic  and  were  rewarded  with  frequent  bursts  of 
applause.  "  If  Mr.  Irving's  reading  on  the  stage,"  it  pro- 
ceeded, "is  as  effective  as  it  was  in  Crosby  Hall,  we  may 
predict  for  him  a  brilliant  and  a  deserved  success,  for  his  con- 
ception is  good,  his  delivery  is  clear  and  effective,  and  there 
is  a  gentlemanly  ease  and  grace  in  his  manner  which  is  ex- 
ceedingly pleasing  to  an  audience.  Towards  the  end  of  the 
performance,  the  audience  became  deeply  affected,  and,  from 
some  parts  of  the  hall,  sobs  were  distinctly  audible.  At  the 
close,  an  enthusiastic  burst  of  applause  rewarded  him  as  he 
retired,  and  was  continued  until  he  again  made  his  appearance 
on  the  platform  and  acknowledged  the  compliment. ' '  Another 
leading  paper,  after  commenting  on  the  mediocrity  and 
tediousness  of  the  average  reader,  admitted  a  most  agreeable 
disappointment.  Instead  of  finding  the  usual  conventionality, 
"we  were  gratified  by  hearing  the  poetical  *  Lady  of  Lyons' 
poetically  read  by  a  most  accomplished  elocutionist,  who  gave 
us  not  only  words,  but  that  finer  indefinite  something  which 
proves,  incontestably  and  instantaneously,  that  the  fire  of 
genius  is  present  in  the  artist."  This  was  high  praise  indeed, 
but  it  was  justified  by  attainments  in  the  future.  The  read- 
ing of  "Virginius"  called  forth  similar  encouragement.  It 
enabled  the  actor  to  display  his  versatility,  for  there  could 
hardly  be  a  greater  contrast  than  the  flowing  language  of 
Bulwer  Lytton,  and  the  rough,  strong  tragedy  of  Sheridan 
Knowles.  Here,  again,  the  reader's  transitions  from  one 


40         THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  m. 

character  to  another  were  singularly  felicitous.  His  de- 
lineation, indeed,  of  each  and  every  character  proved  him  to 
be  "an  artist  who  has  not  mistaken  his  vocation,  but  who  has 
the  intelligence  and  ability  to  grapple  with  the  refinements  of 
his  profession  and  overcome  every  difficulty  that  stands  in  the 
way  of  success".  Some  dozen  other  notices,  all  in  the  same 
pleasing  strain,  were  printed  about  these  readings  at  Crosby 
Hall — one  of  the  most  interesting  episodes  in  the  history  of 
this  ancient  building,  but  one  that,  curiously  enough,  was 
omitted  from  the  official  chronicle  of  Crosby  Hall  prior  to  its 
proposed  demolition  last  year.  It  was  well  that  the  young 
actor  had  not  failed.  For  he  was  now  about  to  undergo  one 
of  the  most  severe  trials  that  can  befall  any  actor,  young 
or  old. 

The  readings  at  Crosby  Hall  had  attracted  the  attention 
of  Henry  Webb,  the  manager  of  the  old  Queen's  Theatre, 
Dublin,  who,  having  had  to  dismiss  his  "juvenile  lead,"  an 
actor  named  George  Vincent,  made  the  unsuspecting  Irving 
an  offer  of  a  four  weeks'  engagement.  This  offer  was  accepted, 
and  the  player,  who  had  celebrated  his  twenty-second  birth- 
day four  weeks  previously,  made  his  first  appearance  in  Dublin 
on  5th  March,  1860,  as  Cassio  to  the  Othello  of  T.  C.  King, 
an  actor  who  was  popular  in  his  day,  particularly  in  Dublin. 
Henry  Irving,  however,  had  not  calculated  on  the  loyalty  of 
a  Dublin  audience  to  an  old  favourite.  And  he  certainly  had 
not  understood  the  situation,  or  he  would  not  have  risked  the 
excellent  reputation  which  he  had  won  by  his  three  years  of 
hard  work.  "Is  that  theomadhaun,  Mike?"  asked  one  gal- 
lery boy  from  another  when  Cassio  spoke  his  first  lines. 
"  No,"  was  the  instant  reply,  "  them's  the  young  man's  clothes 
—they'll  shove  him  out  later  on."  He  was  greeted  with  a 
storm  of  hisses  whenever  he  came  on  the  stage.  This  was 
bad,  but  worse  was  to  follow  three  nights  later.  On  8th 
March,  Gerald  Griffin's  tragedy,  "Gisippus,"  which  had  been 
produced  on  23rd  February,  was  played  for  the  eleventh  time, 
with  Irving  as  Titus  Quintus,  the  character  originally  taken 
by  the  dismissed  actor,  Vincent.  This  was  adding  insult  to 


i86o]         HISSED  FOR  THREE  WEEKS  41 

injury  with  a  vengeance.  In  after  years,  he  recalled  the  ex- 
perience :  "  There  was  I  standing  aghast,  ignorant  of  having 
given  any  cause  of  offence,  and  in  front  of  me  a  raging,  Irish 
audience,  shouting,  gesticulating,  swearing  volubly,  and  in 
various  forms  indicating  their  disapproval  of  my  appearance. 
Nor  was  it  a  matter  of  mere  temporary  disturbance.  Night 
after  night,  I  had  to  fight  through  my  part  in  the  teeth  of  a 
house  whose  entire  energies  seemed  to  be  concentrated  in  a 
personal  antipathy  to  myself.  A  roughish  experience  that— 
to  have  to  hold  your  own  amid  a  continual  uproar."  So  that, 
still  to  use  his  own  words,  he  "went  through  the  ordeal  effac- 
ing for  three  weeks  the  howling  and  hooting  of  as  merry, 
reckless  and  impulsive  an  audience  as  were  ever  gathered 
together.  At  last,  the  indignant  manager  protested,  soundly 
rated  and  rebuked  'the  boys,'  who,  on  discovering  the  injus- 
tice they  had  done  the  young  actor,  as  warmly  encouraged 
and  applauded  him  for  one  week,  as  they  had  before  damned 
him  unmercifully  for  three." 

Other  measures  were  taken  on  behalf  of  order  and 
decency,  in  addition  to  the  managerial  appeal.  So  uproarious 
were  the  scenes  on  occasion,  that  two  policemen  were  always 
employed  to  keep  some  little  check  on  the  galleryites.  The 
treasurer  of  the  theatre,  whose  benefit  was  approaching, 
waited  on  the  superintendent  of  police,  and  spoke  of  the 
recent  rowdiness.  "The  amiable  chief  swore  he  would  soon 
settle  that,  and  kept  his  word  by  drafting  an  extra  force  of 
police  into  the  house,  with  instructions  to  eject  all  and  sundry 
who  were  too  demonstrative  in  their  disapproval.  A  single 
night  of  stern  treatment  gave  the  conspiracy  its  quietus,  and, 
during  the  last  week  of  his  engagement,  Irving  not  only  was 
freed  from  trouble,  but  received  the  applause  that  was  his 
due."  During  this  lively  Dublin  engagement,  Irving  played, 
among  a  variety  of  parts,  Laertes  in  "  Hamlet,"  Florizel  in 
"  The  Winter's  Tale,"  Frank  Friskly  in  "  Boots  at  the  Swan," 
and  Didier  in  "The  Courier  of  Lyons".  With  his  acting  of 
the  last-named  part  on  315!  March,  he  bade  good-bye  to  the 

1 W.  J.  Lawrence,  in  the  Dublin  Evening  Mail,  2ist  May,  1907. 


42         THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  m. 

Queen's  Theatre,  Dublin.  He  made  an  excellent  impression 
as  Laertes,  which  was  pronounced  "a  clever  and  judicious 
performance".  On  7th  April,  he  joined  the  company  at  the 
Theatre  Royal,  Glasgow.  He  remained  in  this  position  for 
five  months.  In  Glasgow,  and  in  Greenock,  he  continued  in 
the  work  which  fell  to  the  provincial  player  of  that  period. 
His  most  notable  performance  here  was  Macduff.  During 
his  Glasgow  engagement,  he  returned  to  Edinburgh,  for  one 
night  only — Saturday,  I2th  May — the  occasion  being  the 
benefit  of  his  friend  Edward  Saker.  The  advertisement  of 
this  event  gave  him  three  lines  to  himself,  it  evidently  being 
thought  that  he  was  worthy  of  considerable  publicity ;  he 
played  Captain  Popham  in  a  popular  farce,  "The  Eton  Boy". 
He  made  many  friends  during  his  first  visit  to  Glasgow, 
especially  among  the  newspaper  men,  one  of  whom,  Mr.  W. 
Hodgson,  writing  in  the  Fifeshire  Journal  many  years  ago, 
recalled  a  most  interesting  scene  :  "  It  is  midnight  in  the 
supper-room  of  a  hotel  in  Wilson  Street,  Glasgow.  Around 
the  table  are  frequently  a  din  of  friendly  voices  and  the 
laughter  of  healthy  natures.  They  are  those  of  newspaper 
people  with  work  yet  to  do  and  of  actors  with  work  just  done. 
They  have  come  hither  for  the  indispensable  professional 
meal  under  the  auspices  of  club  life.  Beside  me  sits  a  young 
man  with  long,  glossy  black  hair,  liquid  eyes  of  subdued  fire, 
and  a  great  richness  of  features,  which,  you  observe,  are  in 
profound  repose.  We  two  are  the  youngest  people  in  the 
group ;  and  our  pleasure  it  is  as  the  evenings  suit  to  listen 
quietly,  and  add  our  timid  approbations,  to  the  witty  repartee 
as  it  flashes  along,  or  to  the  drollery  that  is  tossed  about. 
We  have  so  intimately  cottoned  together  as  to  know  that  this 
same  young  man  has  no  disposition  to  talk  except  in  the 
monosyllable,  and  in  the  brief  but  genial  remark  when  it  is 
challenged.  He  has  cut  no  figure  at  all  on  the  stage  in 
Dunlop  Street :  an  Italian  prince  in  the  melodrama  of  the 
4  Taking  of  Lucknow ;  or  Dinna  ye  Hear  It?'  has  been  the 
great  achievement  in  the  barbaric  pearl  and  gold  of  the 
Dunlop  Street  properties.  On  the  boards  there,  as  in  this 


i86o]          GLASGOW  AND  GREENOCK  43 

cosy  supper  room,  in  which  there  are  men  of  made  reputations 
(Toole,  for  instance),  he  is  modestly  pleased  to  take  the  with- 
drawal seat  beside  me.  As  is  habitual  with  mortals  who  are 
constantly  having  their  destinies  wrought  out  for  them,  their 
own  share  subdued  in  that  decree,  the  severance  comes. 
This  unobtrusive,  strikingly-figured  young  man  goes  away 
south  with  an  indomitable  purpose  in  his  soul  that  he  had 
never  revealed  in  all  our  confidences.  Our  parting  was  with- 
out ceremony.  It  was  without  knowledge ;  for  the  notice  to 
sever  came  suddenly,  and  amid  pre-occupations,  I  rather 
think,  on  my  side.  It  was  well  it  was  so,  for  we  were  deeply 
attached  ;  and  Providence,  I  have  often  thought,  is  kindest 
when  not  consulting  us  that  there  shall  be  any  ceremonious  fare- 
well. Six  years  ago  in  Dundee  I  reshook  that  young  man's 
hand ;  no  longer  young,  its  owner  no  longer  unknown ;  no 
longer  having  raveny  hair ;  no  longer  in  the  back  seat,  but 
now  the  hand  of  the  renowned  Henry  Irving!  There  was 
change,  indeed ;  but  not  in  heart,  nor  in  manner,  nor  in  the 
winning  smile.  Much  had  occurred  in  the  interval  to  both 
of  us  ;  but  nothing  to  turn  either  his  head  or  heart  from  the 
companion  in  Glasgow  when  all  the  world  was  before  the 
two,  and  the  odds  tremendous  against  the  one." 

During  the  first  half  of  this  year,  and  for  long  afterwards, 
the  memory  of  the  good  position  which  he  had,  by  slow 
degrees,  attained  in  Edinburgh,  backed  up  by  the  favourable 
verdict  of  London  on  his  readings  at  Crosby  Hall,  helped  to 
sustain  him  through  many  trials.  His  experience  at  the 
Princess's  Theatre  was  disheartening  enough  in  all  conscience, 
but  to  be  admonished  for  three  weeks  just  because  he  had 
been  selected  to  fill  the  place  of  another  player,  who  had  been 
dismissed  from  the  theatre,  was  a  poor  recompense  for 
laborious  work.  Glasgow  and  Greenock  did  not  tend  to 
improve  matters,  for,  with  but  the  one  exception  of  Macduff, 
good  parts  did  not  fall  to  his  lot.  Moreover,  the  slender  cap- 
ital with  which  he  had  embarked  on  his  career  had  been  in- 
vested, as  we  have  seen,  in  theatrical  "properties,"  and  there 
was  not  much  to  be  saved  out  of  his  salary  in  Edinburgh  of 


44         THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  m. 

thirty  shillings  a  week.  And,  when  he  left  that  city,  it  was 
with  flying  colours  and  with  high  hopes,  for  he  was  coming  to 
London  with  a  three  years'  engagement  in  his  pocket.  With 
Manchester,  the  case  was  different,  for  it  was  entirely  a 
matter  of  speculation. 

The  story  is  best  told  in  his  own  words.  Speaking  twenty- 
seven  years  afterwards — at  a  banquet  given  in  his  honour  at 
the  Manchester  Arts  Club,  on  3Oth  July,  1887 — h£  related 
this  early  adventure  :  "  I  came  all  the  way  from  Greenock  to 
Manchester  with  a  few  shillings  in  my  pocket,  and  I  was  ac- 
companied by  Miss  Henrietta  Hodson,  now  Mrs.  Henry 
Labouchere.  We  had  the  good  fortune  to  be  engaged  by  a 
dear  old  friend  of  mine,  Thomas  Chambers.  Somehow,  he 
picked  us  out  and  offered  us  an  engagement."  This  engage- 
ment was  for  the  Theatre  Royal,  which  was  controlled  by 
John  Knowles,  a  dramatic  enthusiast  and  wealthy  man,  whose 
manager  was  Charles  Calvert.  Irving's  opening  part  in 
Manchester  was  a  small  one — that  of  Adolphe,  a  soldier,  in  a 
favourite  little  adaptation  called  "The  Spy,  or  a  Government 
Appointment,"  the  date  of  his  first  appearance  here  being  2Qth 
September,  1860.  The  bill  concluded  with  the  National  An- 
them, in  the  singing  of  which  he  also  joined.  "  So  you  see, 
gentlemen,"  he  continued  in  his  Manchester  speech  of  1887, 
"  that  as  a  vocalist  I  even  then  had  some  proficiency,  although  I 
had  not  achieved  the  distinction  subsequently  attained  by  my 
efforts  in  Mephistopheles.  Well,  gentlemen,  you  will  admit 
that  the  little  piece  from  the  French  and  the  one-act  farce— 
'  God  save  the  Queen '  was  left  out  after  the  first  night, 
through  no  fault  of  mine,  I  assure  you —  you  will  admit  that 
these  two  pieces  did  not  make  up  a  very  sensational  bill  of 
fare.  I  cannot  conscientiously  say  that  they  crammed  the 
theatre  for  a  fortnight.  But  what  did  that  matter  ?  We  were 
at  the  Theatre  Royal,  Manchester,  perhaps  the  finest  theatre 
in  the  kingdom,  the  manager  was  a  man  of  substance,  and  we 
were  all  very  happy  and  comfortable.  By  playing  as  much 
music  as  possible  between  the  acts,  we  managed  to  eke  out 
the  performance  until  half-past  nine.  We  could  get  to  bed 


1860]          THE  AMATORY  ALCHYMIST  45 

early,  if  we  chose,  for  Manchester  people,  we  were  told,  were 
early  people — but  remember,  gentlemen,  I  am  speaking  of 
twenty -seven  years  ago.  The  next  bill  of  fare  at  the  Theatre 
Royal  was  '  Faust  and  Marguerite,'  which  had  been  pro- 
duced very  successfully  a  season  or  two  before.  This  was 
Charles  Kean's  version  of  a  French  melodrama,  from  which 
Gounod  took  his  libretto  of  *  Faust '.  It  was  in  three  acts, 
and  had  four  scenes  ;  and  I  remember  Dr.  Faust  being  trans- 
ported at  the  end  of  the  play  to  the  bottom  of  a  well  amidst 
sulphurous  and  tormenting  flames,  which  was  a  deserving  re- 
compense for  the  performance."  Other  people  shared  this 
opinion  of  Irving's  about  the  performance  of  "  Faust,"  as  may 
be  judged  from  the  following  criticism :  "  Mr.  H.  Irving 
was  rather  too  tall  to  permit  of  his  successfully  realising  the 
popular  idea  of  a  learned  doctor,  and  there  was  not  the  least 
of  an  alchymist — which  we  certainly  think  there  ought  to 
have  been — -about  his  appearance.  He  offered  a  very  truthful 
picture  of  a  '  spooney '  youth  who  was  ready  to  die,  and  some- 
thing more,  for  the  object  of  his  passion,  but  the  portrait  failed 
to  recall  the  original :  and  the  consequence  was,  that  when  he 
went  '  below,'  much  more  of  our  pit  followed  him  than  the 
author  intended  he  should  receive."  This  "criticism"  is  a 
little  bewildering,  for  it  sets  up  a  curious  standard  in  regard 
to  the  stature  of  "  learned  doctors  ".  As  for  the  "  alchymist," 
a  little  information  as  to  what  should  precisely  go  to  the  ap- 
pearance of  such  an  individual  would,  no  doubt,  have  been 
welcomed  by  the  actor. 

"The  labour  we  delight  in  physics  pain,"  and  Henry 
Irving  had  to  labour  unceasingly  before  he  made  his  mark  in 
Manchester.  During  his  first  season  here,  he  appeared  in 
some  thirty  different  characters.  On  three  nights  running,  no 
less  than  seven  new  parts  were  acted  by  him.  Yet  he  was 
hardly  noticed  by  the  press.  We  have  to  go  from  27th 
November,  1860 — when  the  Examiner  observed  that,  al- 
though young,  he  had  "material  to  make  an  actor"  —to  I3th 
May,  1 86 1,  for  any  allusion  to  him  in  the  Manchester  papers. 
On  that  date,  the  same  paper,  in  commenting  on  a  repre- 


46         THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  m. 

sentation  of  a  play  called  " Jacob's  Truck,"  said:  "There 
is  a  word  or  two  due  to  Mr.  Irving  for  his  clever  impersona- 
tion of  Slipton  Stacher.  This  young  actor  possesses  many 
good  qualities — Nature  has  done  much  for  him,  and  requires 
a  grateful  return.  But  he  is  acquiring  habits  that  will 
ultimately  interfere  with  legitimate  progress.  Why  should 
he  be  ambitious  to  imitate  the  automaton  rather  than  a 
graceful  and  manly  bearing?  Nature's  idea  of  a  gentle- 
man is  not  that  of  a  modern  'swell,'  with  jerking  walk 
and  stiff  neck  and  spasmodic  elocution.  Mr.  Irving  has  a 
good  presence,  an  intellectual-looking  head  and  eye,  a  fine 
sonorous  voice,  and  no  slight  amount  of  intelligence.  He 
will  be  an  actor  if  he  has  resolution  to  let  Nature  have  more 
of  her  own  way."  This  genuine  criticism  is  instructive,  for 
it  shows  that  those  faults  in  his  style — which  he  was  after- 
wards accused  of  having  cultivated  and  exaggerated  for  the 
sake  of  notoriety — were  strongly  marked  at  the  outset  of  his 
career.  His  peculiar  walk  had  already  been  criticised  ad- 
versely in  Edinburgh  in  1859.  The  defect  seems  to  have 
grown  with  years.  But  the  Manchester  critic  was  wrong  in 
one  respect.  If  the  jerking  walk  and  spasmodic  elocution 
were  not  in  accordance  with  Nature  herself,  they  were  in- 
herent to  the  man.  He  did  his  best  to  overcome  these 
defects,  and,  if  he  did  not  entirely  succeed  in  so  doing,  he 
made  them  so  subservient  to  himself,  and  to  his  great  quali- 
ties, that,  in  the  end,  they  did  not  matter.  The  most  curious 
allusion  in  this  criticism  is  perhaps  that  to  the  "fine  sonorous 
voice".  If  Irving's  voice  ever  was  really  sonorous,  many 
years  of  unceasing  toil,  and  early  privations,  must  have 
robbed  it  of  that  quality.  He  could  make  it  carry,  even  to 
the  day  of  his  death,  to  the  remotest  recesses  of  the  theatre, 
but  it  is  impossible  for  those  who  saw  him  in  the  zenith  of  his 
career  to  think  of  it  as  sonorous. 

That  he  strove  to  profit  by  the  Examiner  s  criticism  is 
proved  by  the  next  notice  from  that  paper.  This  occurred, 
on  Qth  June,  in  connection  with  the  first  production  in  Man- 
chester of  John  Brougham's  comedy,  "Playing  with  Fire". 


i86i]  HELPFUL  CRITICISM  47 

The  piece  is  based  upon  a  series  of  misconceptions,  and 
Irving  had  to  help,  in  the  part  of  a  young  married  man,  in 
the  general  excitement.  "  Mr.  Irving  gave  us  less  of  his 
peculiar  mannerisms,  to  which  we  need  not  further  allude," 
said  the  Examiner,  "and  showed  in  many  points  that  he 
had  studied  the  play,  as  well  as  the  character  of  Herbert 
Waverley."  It  will  be  seen,  from  this  observant  criticism, 
that  he  had,  thus  early,  become  noted  for  a  characteristic 
trait  which  never  left  him — a  thorough  knowledge  of  the 
piece  in  which  he  was  acting,  in  addition  to  the  mastery  of 
his  own  part. 

Even  at  the  Theatre  Royal,  Manchester,  there  was  a 
good  deal  of  acting  of  the  old  "  penny  plain,  twopence 
coloured"  order.  This  was  not  the  fault  either  of  the  theatre 
or  of  Manchester.  But  the  members  of  the  stock  company 
had  to  support  the  various  theatrical  luminaries  who  then  pere- 
grinated the  provinces.  Some  of  these  players  were  given 
to  shouting  themselves  hoarse  and  thereby  splitting  the  ears 
of  the  groundlings  with  their  fearsome  noise.  Irving  had 
seen  much  of  this  robustious  kind  of  acting  in  Edinburgh,  but 
he  was  too  young  to  venture  out  on  a  line  of  his  own. 
Happily,  however,  he  had  in  Manchester  a  mentor  who 
was  artistic  as  a  manager  and  natural  as  an  actor — Charles 
Calvert,  to  whom  he  often  acknowledged  his  indebtedness. 
When  he  was  noticed  again  by  the  Examiner,  there  was 
no  reference  at  all  to  his  mannerisms,  but,  with  the  leading 
members  of  the  company,  he  was  praised  for  his  avoidance  of 
the  faults  of  the  old  school.  This  was  on  i7th  September,  in 
reference  to  a  mediocre  domestic  drama  called  "The  Family 
Secret".  The  acting  of  the  piece  saved  it  from  failure,  "and 
in  this  respect,"  said  the  paper  in  question,  "we  have  not 
often  seen  actors  deserving  of  more  honourable  mention. 
Mr.  C.  Calvert,  Mr.  Irving,  and  Miss  Annie  Ness  were  each 
and  all  true  to  nature,  and,  consequently,  won  the  respect  of 
the  judiciously  critical,  who,  in  these  days,  when  our  leading 
actors  are  '  tearing  passion  to  tatters,  to  very  rags,'  see  too 
little  of  what  is  genuine  in  art."  This  first  year  in  Man- 


48         THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  m. 

chester  must  have  been  sadly  disheartening  to  the  young 
actor ;  but  the  recognition  which  he  won  for  himself  from  the 
press  at  the  end  of  the  twelve  months  had  its  effect  on  the 
management  inasmuch  as  he  was  allotted  much  better  parts 
for  the  second  season.  Furlong  in  "  Handy  Andy"  on 
24th  September,  and  Travers  in  "The  Irish  Emigrant"  on 
3<Dth  September,  paved  the  way  for  an  impersonation  which 
brought  him  considerable,  and  favourable,  comment.  This  was 
Mr.  Dombey  in  John  Brougham's  version  of  "  Dombey  and 
Son,"  in  which  the  American  comedian,  W.  J.  Florence,  and 
Mrs.  Florence,  appeared  as  Captain  Cuttle  and  Susan  Nipper. 
The  cold  and  stately  Mr.  Dombey  was  not  the  character 
usually  associated  with  Irving,  yet — at  the  age  of  twenty-three, 
be  it  borne  in  mind — he  succeeded,  despite  the  presence  of 
"  stars  "  of  some  magnitude  in  the  cast,  in  making  his  rendering 
stand  out.  H  e  was  * '  very  life-like, ' '  said  the  critical  Examiner, 
and,  according  to  the  Guardian,  he  "  showed  an  excellent  ap- 
preciation of  the  character  ".  A  third  play  by  John  Brougham 
helped  Irving  to  further  success.  This  was  a  three-act  comedy, 
called  "  Flies  in  the  Web,"  which  the  comedian  produced  for 
his  benefit  early  in  December.  He  played  the  principal  male 
character,  and  Mrs.  Calvert  appeared  as  a  young  orphan,  a 
Creole,  who  was  handsome  and  accomplished,  and  wealthy  as 
well.  She  was  not,  however,  exactly  a  paragon  of  perfection, 
for  she  was  imperious,  impulsive,  passionate,  and  tyrannical— 
a  rather  curious  mixture.  Irving  played  Paul  Weldon,  the 
possessor  of  a  solitary  shilling,  "a  young  man  who  finds  it 
hard  work,  without  special  industrial  qualifications,  to  gain  an 
honest  livelihood".  As  those  were  old-fashioned  days,  it  is 
almost  needless  to  say  that  the  impecunious  young  man 
eventually  married  the  beautiful  heiress.  What  must  have 
been  much  more  gratifying  to  the  hero  of  this  story  was  the 
Examiner  s  pronouncement  that  "  Mr.  Irving,  we  are  glad  to 
say,  excelled,  in  our  opinion,  any  of  his  previous  efforts". 
Another  impersonation  which  won  him  enhanced  reputation 
was  that  of  Sir  Herbert  Denzil  in  "  A  Word  in  Your  Ear". 
Various  Shakespearean  characters  were  acted  by  him  dur- 


1862]  HIS  INDIVIDUALITY  49 

ing  the  season  of  1861-62.  The  majority  of  these  parts  were 
played  during  October,  when  Edwin  Booth  visited  Man- 
chester :  Laertes  in  "  Hamlet,"  Cassio  in  "  Othello,"  Benvolio 
in  "  Romeo  and  Juliet,"  Malcolm  in  "  Macbeth,"  Philip  in 
"King  John,"  Orlando  in  "As  You  Like  It,"  and  Banquo  in 
"Macbeth".  But  he  was  eclipsed  by  the  "stars"  of  the 
time,  and  it  was  not  until  he  acted  Cornelius  Nepos,  in 
a  little  play,  written  by  W.  S.  Hyde,  called  "The  Dead 
Letter,"  that  he  was  again  deemed  worthy  of  extended  notice. 
The  criticism  in  the  Examiner  is  notable,  for  it  touched  upon 
the  actor's  individuality:  "There  are  occasions  when  Mr. 
Irving  indicates  much  intelligence  along  with  a  truthful  per- 
ception of  character,  and  he  has  not  often  been  more  fortunate 
in  this  respect  than  on  Thursday  evening.  Certain  portions 
of  what  he  had  to  do  exhibited  genuine  acting,  the  true  em- 
bodiment of  individuality."  The  same  paper  had  more  dis- 
criminate praise  for  him  a  month  later.  On  4th  April,  Irving 
played  Claude  Melnotte — a  favourite  part  with  him  in  his 
younger  days — for  the  benefit  of  another  member  of  the 
company.  "  This  young  actor  has  shown  on  several  occasions 
during  the  season  talent  which  may  ere  long  ripen  into  first- 
class  acting,"  the  Examiner  remarked  prophetically.  "  Mr. 
Irving's  Claude  Melnotte,  though  one  might  have  considered 
the  part  beyond  his  powers,  deserved  the  applause  so  liberally 
bestowed  upon  him.  He  delivered  many  passages  with  fine 
feeling,  and,  we  have  little  doubt,  surprised  many  present  who 
have  only  seen  him  in  characters  of  less  importance." 

Despite  the  advancement  which  the  young  actor  had 
made  in  his  art,  progress  in  any  other  direction  was  painfully 
slow.  The  year  1862  was  a  tedious  one  for  him,  for  he  had 
little  money  and  his  work  was  not  of  an  interesting  nature.  As 
he  had  already  gone  through  much  of  the  drudgery  of  the 
stage,  he  must  have  found  it  "weary,  stale,  flat  and  unprofit- 
able ".  The  following  year  was  hardly  less  dispiriting,  and  it 
was  seldom  that  the  critic  of  the  Examiner  had  the  opportunity 
of  noticing  him.  He  had  no  part  in  "  Our  American  Cousin," 

in  which  E.  A.  Sothern  acted  in  Manchester  in  April,  1863, 
VOL.  i.  4 


50         THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  in. 

but  he  supported  him  in  "  My  Aunt's  Advice,"  and  "  confirmed 
an  established  good  opinion,  showing  that  earnest,  careful, 
and  intelligent  study  of  character  which  must  eventually  place 
him  in  a  first-class  position".  Apart  from  his  work  in  Man- 
chester, he  was  never  idle.  His  summer  vacations  were 
spent  in  readings  at  different  places.  For  instance,  at  the 
Ball  Room,  Buxton,  on  8th  August,  1863,  "  Mr.  Henry  Irving, 
of  the  Theatres  Royal,  Edinburgh,  Glasgow,  and  Manchester," 
had  "the  honour  to  announce"  a  dramatic  reading  of  "The 
Lady  of  Lyons  ".  He  printed  a  circular  for  the  occasion  giv- 
ing extracts  from  the  notices  which  he  had  received  at  Crosby 
Hall  in  1859.  The  reserved  seats  were  two  shillings  each, 
and  the  others  one  shilling,  and  sixpence.  Much  courage  and 
inflexible  determination  were  required  in  these  trying  years. 
But  Henry  Irving  was  not  of  common  mould,  and  he  never 
faltered  in  his  high  ambition.  His  provincial  probation  was 
not  yet  ended,  nor  was  there  any  prospect  of  London  in  sight. 
It  may  be  imagined  that  there  was  little  opportunity  for 
social  gatherings  among  the  members  of  the  company,  but 
still  there  were  moments  of  relaxation  from  the  strict  routine 
and  occasional  hours  of  jollity  after  the  night's  work  was  done. 
The  Titan  Club  afforded  the  actors  much  relief  from  their 
labours.  This  social  institution  owed  its  origin  to  the  members 
of  the  Theatre  Royal  company,  and  was  founded  in  the 
autumn  of  1859.  It  was,  according  to  its  rules,  "a  literary 
club  of  a  convivial  character,"  and  it  proved  a  boon  and  a 
blessing  to  its  members,  and,  as  actors  and  authors  who  were 
visiting  the  town  were  admitted  to  the  select  circle,  it  fostered 
a  friendly  feeling  all  round.  It  existed  from  October,  1859, 
until  early  in  1864.  The  members  were  so  poor  that  they 
could  not  afford  a  club-house  of  their  own,  and  they  met  at 
an  adjacent  tavern,  the  Printers'  Arms.  Each  member  was 
designated  by  a  Shakespearean  name,  and  "any  brother 
addressing  another  except  by  his  cognomen  "  was  mulcted  in 
the  sum  of  one  penny.  The  first  president  of  the  club  was 
Thomas  Chambers,  the  treasurer  of  the  Theatre  Royal,  who 
was  called  Prospero ;  Charles  Calvert,  named  Hamlet,  was 


1 862]  THE  TITAN  CLUB  51 

the  first  vice-chairman  ;  and  the  first  secretary  and  treasurer 
was  Wybert  Reeve.  Henry  Irving  was  admitted  to  the 
Titans  a  few  nights  after  his  first  appearance  at  the  Theatre 
Royal.  On  i6th  October,  1860,  he  was  duly  introduced, 
and,  as  Thyrsites,  enrolled  a  member.  Why  he  should  have 
selected — if,  indeed,  he  had  any  choice  in  the  matter — the 
"  deformed  and  scurrilous  "  Grecian  of  "  Troilus  and  Cressida  " 
as  his  cognomen,  is  a  mystery.  Nor  is  it  a  matter  of  moment. 
It  is  of  some  interest,  however,  to  know  that,  in  December, 
1862,  "Thyrsites,"  in  preference  to  being  fined  half  a  crown— 
for  cash  was  extremely  scarce — delivered  a  "True  Ghost 
Story"  to  his  fellow  members.  The  story  is  remarkably  well 
written,  interesting  throughout,  and  quite  dramatic.  It  is  too 
long  for  quotation,  but  the  opening  sentence  may  be  given  : 
"Brother  Titans,"  he  began,  "having  from  my  earliest  re- 
membrances possessed  a  reverence  for  good,  jolly,  hearty 
Saint  Christmas,  and  all  his  good,  jolly,  hearty  customs,  and 
having  also  an  aversion  to  throw  away  recklessly  the  sum  of 
two  shillings  and  sixpence,  I  have  endeavoured  faintly  to 
combine  homage  to  the  fine  old  roysterer  aforesaid  with  respect 
to  my  conscience,  pocket,  and  the  Titan  Club  ;  and  accordingly 
have  done  my  best  to  string  together  the  fragments  of  an 
anecdote  I  once  heard".1  Irving  spoke  with  more  truth  than 
might  have  appeared  on  the  surface  in  regard  to  the  forfeiture 
of  half  a  crown,  for,  out  of  his  salary  of  three  pounds,  he 
religiously  sent  his  father  thirty  shillings  each  week,  and,  in 
order  to  do  this,  he  was  obliged  to  pay  frequent  visits  to  a 
pawnbroker's  shop. 

Among  the  members  of  the  Titan  Club  was  Joseph 
Robins,  whose  cognomen  was  Dogberry,  an  actor  whose  kind- 
ness Irving  ever  remembered  with  gratitude.  For  he  told 
of  the  pathetic  incident  on  more  than  one  occasion,  even 
so  recently  as  on  the  eve  of  his  departure  for  his  last  tour  in 
America,  when,  being  asked  for  some  Christmas  memories, 

1  These  particulars  are  taken  from  the  "  History  and  Proceedings  of  the 
Manchester  Titan  Club,"  edited  by  Alfred  Darbyshire,  F.S.A.,  and  related 
by  him  in  the  Manchester  Herald,  1899-1900. 

4* 


52         THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  m. 

his  mind  went  back  to  these  times  of  semi-starvation  and  to 
the  good-hearted  actor  whose  act  of  kindness  never  faded  from 
his  recollection  :  "I  always  like  to  call  to  mind  the  story  of  a 
poor  and  unknown  actor — a  story  that  I  may  have  told  before, 
and  make  no  apology  for  telling  again,  because  it  illustrates 
the  brotherhood  of  Christmas  by  one  of  those  experiences  that 
no  man  should  forget.  This  poor  actor  went  to  dine  one 
Christmas  Day  at  the  house  of  a  comrade  who  was  far  from 
affluent  except  in  native  kindliness.  That  invitation  was  a 
godsend  to  the  guest,  who  had  no  other  prospects  of  a  satis- 
fying meal,  or  even  of  a  generous  fireside.  He  found  the 
temperature  just  then  most  undesirably  keen,  for  somehow 
his  salary  had  left  no  margin  for  winter  garments.  He 
shivered  on  the  journey  to  his  friend's  house,  and  he  shivered 
when  he  went  in,  though  he  made  believe  heroically  to  have 
stirred  up  his  circulation  with  an  invigorating  walk.  His  host 
gazed  at  him,  fidgetted  a  little,  and  seemed  unaccountably 
absent — 'dried  up,'  as  we  actors  say — in  the  most  elementary 
conversation.  Then  he  looked  at  his  watch,  and  said : 
'  Nearly  dinner-time,  by  Jove ;  you'd  like  to  go  upstairs  and 
have  a  wash,'  and  led  the  way  to  the  bedroom.  Hanging  over 
a  chair  was  a  suit  of  underclothes,  most  uncommonly  warm- 
looking  underclothes,  of  quite  an  attractive  tint ;  and  the  host 
glanced  hastily  at  them,  and  looked  as  if  trying  to  avoid  them. 
Then  he  made  for  the  door,  went  out,  put  his  head  in  again, 
and  exclaimed,  as  if  by  a  sudden  and  rather  violent  inspiration  : 
'  Those  clothes  on  the  chair,  old  man — upon  my  word,  I  think 
you'd  better  put  'em  on.  It's  deuced  cold  for  the  time  of 
year,  you  know.'  The  good  fellow  choked  on  the  last  word, 
and  shut  the  door  quickly,  and  the  poor  actor  sat  down  on  the 
chair,  and  burst  into  tears.  One  of  these  two  has  been  dead 
these  many  years ;  he  is  not  forgotten.  That  gift,  which  he 
could  ill  afford,  still  warms  the  heart  of  his  old  friend,  who 
thinks,  moreover,  that  the  story  is  good  to  tell  at  any  time, 
but  especially  at  Christmas  time.  Don't  you  agree  with 
him?" 


CHAPTER  IV. 

1864-1865. 

Still  in  Manchester — Mercutio — Hamlet  after  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence — 
Hamlet  in  real  earnest — Criticisms  on  the  performance  —  Joseph,  in 
"  Deborah  " — Hamlet  again,  Bob  Brierley,  the  Lancashire  lad — At  Oxford 
— An  encouraging  criticism — His  reminiscences  of  Manchester — Playing 
before  the  pantomime — His  Robert  Macaire — Exposes  the  Davenport 
Brothers — His  amusing  speech  and  great  success — Leaves  the  Theatre 
Royal — At  the  Prince's  Theatre — Claudio,  Edmund,  and  the  Due  de 
Nemours — More  reminiscences  of  Manchester — His  tribute  to  Charles 
Calvert. 

IF  his  fortunes  did  not  change  considerably  for  the  better 
during  the  two  succeeding  years,  he  at  least  broke  through 
some  of  his  fetters  and  proved  to  the  Manchester  public  that 
he  was  a  man  of  mettle.  Early  in  1 864,  too,  he  had  made  a 
hit  in  the  production  of  "  The  Colleen  Bawn ."  In  addition  to 
the  author,  Dion  Boucicault,  and  his  wife,  there  was  a  com- 
pany of  actors  who  were  generally  esteemed  by  local  play- 
goers. But  the  hot-headed  actor-author  spoke  harshly  of 
them  all — with  one  exception.  Oddly  enough,  considering 
that  in  after  years  Boucicault  was  one  of  the  various  "dis- 
coverers" of  Irving — who,  as  this  story  will  presently  show, 
discovered  himself — he  averred  that  the  stock  company  of 
the  Theatre  Royal  contained  only  one  actor — not  Henry 
Irving — who  was  worthy  of  praise.  For  all  that,  the  Hard- 
ress  Cregan  of  Henry  Irving  was  much  liked,  and  is  spoken 
of  in  terms  of  praise  to  this  day  by  old  Manchester  play- 
goers. Mercutio,  in  "Romeo  and  Juliet,"  brought  him  ad- 
ditional notice  of  an  acceptable  kind,  and  then,  in  April,  the 
celebration  of  Shakespeare's  birthday  enabled  him  to  dis- 
tinguish himself  in  a  remarkable  manner.  The  tercentenary 
of  the  dramatist's  natal  day  was  honoured  in  Manchester  by 

53 


54          THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  iv. 

some  readings  from  Shakespeare  by  Charles  Calvert  and 
some  tableaux  vivants.  Mrs.  Calvert  posed  as  Lady 
Macbeth,  and  Irving  was  selected  for  Hamlet.  Thanks 
to  his  own  dark  hair  and  personal  appearance,  he  was  en- 
abled to  give  a  remarkable  representation  of  John  Philip 
Kemble  as  he  is  represented  in  the  famous  painting  by  Sir 
Thomas  Lawrence.  It  is  interesting  to  think  of  him  standing 
thus,  attired  in  the  black  cloak  and  the  hat  with  the  enormous 
funereal  plumes,  skull  in  hand,  on  the  stage  of  the  Manchester 
Theatre  Royal  on  the  afternoon  of  Saturday,  23rd  April,  1864. 
Ten  and  a  half  years  later,  he  appeared  as  Hamlet  at  the 
Lyceum  and  rose  to  the  foremost  place  in  his  profession. 

Even  now  he  was  thinking  most  seriously  of  the  character, 
and,  two  months  after  his  striking  realisation  of  the  Lawrence 
picture,  he  acted  Hamlet  in  Manchester.  Prior  to  this 
event,  however,  he  had  merited — and  received — much  praise 
for  his  performance  in  a  new  domestic  drama  called  "Ye 
Merchant's  Storye"  —  an  adaptation  from  the  French — and  in 
a  dramatic  version  of  Miss  Braddon's  novel,  "Aurora  Floyd". 
Monday,  2Oth  June,  was  fixed  for  his  benefit — his  first  in 
Manchester — and  he  selected  "  Hamlet "  for  the  occasion. 
He  had  the  loyal  help  of  Mr.  Calvert  as  the  Ghost  and  of 
Mrs.  Calvert  as  Ophelia.  Mrs.  Calvert  also  supplemented 
the  tragedy  by  acting  in  a  burlesque  on  "Medea"  in  which, 
a  few  nights  earlier,  she  had  made  a  great  success.  The  pit 
and  galleries  were  crowded,  and  "the  boxes  contained  a  good 
muster  of  Mr.  Irving's  admirers  ".  The  young  actor  received 
some  kindly  criticism  on  his  early — he  was  but  twenty-six 
years  old — impersonation  of  the  Prince  of  Denmark.  The 
criticisms  are  all  the  more  interesting  to  look  back  upon,  for 
they  were  not  mere  gush.  It  is  evident  that  the  writers  in- 
tended to  be  helpful.  The  three  most  important  notices 
appeared  in  the  Examiner,  Guardian,  and  Courier.  The 
first-named  journal  said  :  "  Mr.  Henry  Irving  took  his  benefit 
last  night,  and  drew  around  him  a  large  number  of  friends,  so 
numerous  indeed  as  to  present  to  him  an  assurance  of  the 
respect  in  which  he  is  held  in  Manchester,  Selecting 


1 864]      HAMLET  FOR  THE  FIRST  TIME  55 

Hamlet,  he  took  upon  himself  the  arduous  task  of  in- 
terpreting Shakespeare  in  one  of  his  wonderful  creations. 
The  attempt  was  a  bold  one,  but  far  from  being  a  failure. 
In  the  more  impassioned  passages  Mr.  Irving  wanted  power, 
more  from  physical,  however,  than  mental  deficiency.  Where 
the  plaintive  predominated — the  noted  soliloquy  *  to  be  or  not 
to  be'  for  instance — again  in  the  advice  to  the  players  and 
the  other  colloquial  passages,  there  was  much  for  com- 
mendation— nor  should  we  omit  in  this  estimate  the  beautiful 
lines  commencing  'What  a  piece  of  work  is  man,'  the  poetry 
of  which  was  finely  appreciated  by  the  actor.  On  the  whole, 
it  was  a  performance  which  exhibited  very  considerable  in- 
telligence, and  conscientious  study,  and  well  deserved  the 
warm  applause  with  which  it  was  greeted."  The  Guardian 
was  not  quite  so  liberal  in  its  praise  :  "  When  a  man  aims 
high,  it  does  not  always  happen  that  he  strikes  high.  We 
credit  him  with  the  intention,  and  record  regretfully  that  his 
achievement  does  not  equal  it.  In  the  whole  range  of  the 
dramatic  art  there  is  no  character  that  requires  loftier  and 
more  varied  accomplishments  for  its  efficient  presentation  than 
that  of  Hamlet,  which  was  assumed  last  night  by  Mr. 
Henry  Irving  on  the  occasion  of  his  benefit ;  and  to  say  that 
his  personation  was  not  such  a  success  as  one  would  wish  for 
an  intelligent  and  studious  man,  is  simply  to  add  his  name  to 
a  long  list  of  worthy  actors  who  have  done  well  in  other 
histrionic  spheres,  if  they  have  not  shone  in  the  highest.  A 
more  robust  physique  than  Mr.  Irving  has  is  wanted  to  make 
a  Prince  of  Denmark,  and  consequently  his  voice  was  un- 
equal to  the  demands  which  Hamlet  makes  upon  it. 
This  is  a  failing  which  no  art  can  supply.  But  study  can 
give  a  greater  command  over  the  vocal  tones  than  Mr.  Irving 
displayed  ;  and  by  more  variety  in  the  intonation  and  greater 
clearness,  the  deficiency  in  power  may  be,  as  it  were,  hidden, 
if  not  compensated.  Judging  by  the  applause  of  a  full 
house,  our  estimate  of  the  hero's  part  was  not  endorsed 
by  the  public.  Perhaps  Mr.  Irving  was  somewhat  unnerved 
at  the  outset  by  the  earnestness  of  the  welcome  that 


56         THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  iv. 

greeted  him.      He  was  called  before  the  curtain  after  every 
act." 

Here,  it  is  to  be  noted,  was  complaint  of  his  lack  of 
physique  and  deficiency  of  voice.  The  latter  was  no  longer 
"  sonorous,"  and  it  is  doubtful  if  it  ever  possessed  that  quality. 
The  Courier,  although  critical,  found  much  to  commend  : 
"  Nothing  could  be  more  encouraging  than  the  reception 
given  to  Mr.  Henry  Irving  last  night,  when  for  the  first  time 
he  stepped  on  the  stage  in  the  role  of  Hamlet  ;  and, 
throughout  the  night,  a  generous  sympathy  with  commendable 
emulation  was  evinced  by  a  well-filled  house,  disposed  to  be 
considerate  as  well  as  critical.  Having,  perhaps,  unnerved 
Mr.  Irving  by  an  early  display  of  good  feeling,  it  sought  to 
reassure  him  by  calling  him  before  the  curtain  at  the  close  of 
each  act.  The  house  knew  well  Mr,  Irving's  ability  in  light 
drama,  and  scarcely  expected  an  ideal  Hamlet  from  him. 
It  knew  beforehand  that  Mr.  Irving  was  unequal  physically 
to  the  expression  of  the  highest  tragic  power,  and  it  therefore 
judged  his  efforts  by  the  known  strength  of  the  actor,  as  well 
as  by  the  comparative  success  which  he  attained.  Sub- 
stantially, it  attested  that,  with  a  more  powerful  voice  that 
would  have  accommodated  the  word  to  the  action,  Mr.  Irving, 
by  repetition,  would  suit  the  action  to  the  word  in  the  most 
critical  speeches  and  scenes  of  the  tragedy.  He  was  best, 
and  perhaps  a  little  too  off-hand  and  easy,  in  ordinary  dialogue, 
and  at  times,  much  too  hasty  for  the  development  of  the  plot. 
In  the  play  scene,  he  was  too  impetuous  in  approaching  the 
King,  who  ought  to  rise  discomfited  by  the  play,  without 
having  its  meaning  forcibly  applied  by  Hamlet.  At  other 
times  Mr.  Irving  found  it  difficult  to  avoid  the  gait  and  mien 
of  comedy,  or  rather  fell  into  it  from  long  usage.  Such  things 
were  to  be  expected,  and  they  are  not  mentioned  disparagingly. 
Mr.  Irving's  conception  of  the  character,  whilst  capable  of 
emendation  by  study,  was  generally  good,  and  his  readings, 
when  within  his  vocal  compass,  were  impressive  and  effec- 
tive." 

All  this  was  well  said,  and,  as  the  criticism  was  discriminat- 


1 864]  HAMLET    .  57 

ing,  it  was  of  service.     It  is  worthy  of  note  that  for  this  early 
impersonation  he  followed  an  innovation  which  had  been  made 
in  regard  to  make-up  by  Charles  Fechter,  who,  in  March, 
1 86 1,   when    he    played    Hamlet    at   the    Princess's,    wore 
blonde  hair.     So,  as  the  idea  was  thought  well   of  at   the 
time,   Irving  followed  it,  and  adopted  a  fair  wig  for  his  first 
Hamlet.     As  is  well-known,  he  used  his  own  hair   for  the 
Lyceum    Hamlet.       A    week   after  his  first  performance  of 
Hamlet,  he  added  to  his  local  fame  by  a  remarkable  inter- 
pretation of  the  chief  male  character,  Joseph,  in  a  version  of 
Mosenthal's  drama,  "  Deborah,"  in  which  Miss  Bateman— 
with  whom  he  subsequently  played  at  the  Lyceum — had  just 
made  her  mark  at  the  Adelphi.     The  Examiner  was  moved 
into  observing  that  it  had  "  never  seen  Mr.  Irving  in  a  char- 
acter that  suited  him  so  well,  or  in  which  he  has  done  better. 
His  make-up  was  elegant  and  prepossessing,  and  his  acting 
that  of  the  scholar  and  gentleman  he  was  intended  to  repre- 
sent."    But  he  had  not  finished  with  Hamlet  yet.      His  first 
performance  was  so  highly  appreciated  by  Manchester  play- 
goers that  he  repeated  his  rendering  on  the  Saturday  night 
following,   25th  June.     More  encouraging  still,  a  third  repre- 
sentation was  given  on  Saturday,  9th  July,  the  last  night  of 
the  season  at  the  Theatre  Royal.     In  drawing  attention  to 
this  event,  the  Guardian  noted  that  the  experience  gained  by 
the  actor  in  the  course  of  the  second  performance  of  this  diffi- 
cult character  "has  given  Mr.   Irving  greater  power,  as  it 
always  does  when  availed  of  by  so  earnest  a  student  as  he  is  ". 
These  few  words  must  have  been  consoling,    and,    indeed, 
there  was  much  need  of  consolation.     For  the  mortifications 
to  which  the  young  actor  was  subjected  were  by  no  means 
ended.     Irving  always  spoke  most  affectionately  of  Manchester, 
but  his  experience  there  was    long   and  trying.      He   had, 
however,  the  fortitude  to  endure  it,  and  he  justified  his  faith 
in  himself. 

During  the  closing  of  the  Manchester  theatre,  certain 
members  of  the  company  played  at  the  Theatre  Royal,  Ox- 
ford, and  Irving  won  considerable  popularity  during  this 


58         THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  iv. 

engagement.  The  opening  programme  had  "The  Ticket- 
of- Leave  Man"  as  its  principal  attraction,  with  Irving  as  the 
hero,  Bob  Brierley,  the  Lancashire  lad,  a  character  which  had 
been  taken  by  Mr.  Henry  Neville  in  the  original  production 
of  the  drama  at  the  Olympic  Theatre  on  27th  May,  1863. 
Irving  also  acted  Claude  Melnotte,  Hamlet,  and  Macduff 
at  Oxford.  He  again  wore  long  flaxen  hair  as  the  Prince  of 
Denmark.  He  impressed  the  audience  by  the  evidence  of 
his  deep  study  of  the  part  and  his  intense  earnestness.  On 
returning  to  Manchester,  he  played  Jim  Dalton,  the  bold  and 
expert  thief  of  "  The  Ticket-of- Leave  Man,"  in  support  of  Mr. 
Neville  as  Bob  Brierley,  with  such  effect  that  he  was  rewarded 
with  praise  on  all  sides.  Another  success  was  made  by  him 
in  the  production  of  a  three-act  drama,  by  Watts  Phillips, 
called  "Camilla's  Husband".  He  played  the  chief  part, 
Maurice  Warner,  a  poor,  abandoned,  ambitious  artist,  who 
is  married  for  money  to  a  woman  whom  he  binds  himself  to 
forget.  The  Examiner  was  greatly  impressed  by  this  imper- 
sonation, the  more  so  as  it  discovered  in  the  actor  a  quality 
which  it  had  not  previously  discerned.  "We  have  always 
credited  Mr.  Irving  with  many  excellencies,"  it  said,  "but  we 
will  now  add  another  to  the  list — that  of  genuine  pathos.  His 
conduct  towards  the  woman  who  makes  him  her  husband,  is 
marked  by  a  nice  perception  of  the  probabilities  of  human 
action  in  such  a  position  :  he  shows  passion  where  passion  is 
needed,  self-respect  and  manly  dignity  where  the  occasion  de- 
mands. But  there  were  flashes  of  feeling  at  times  which  could 
only  be  struck  out  by  a  gifted  actor,  and  one  who  possessed 
a  fine  sense  of  the  proprieties  of  expression  and  suggestion. 
Mr.  Irving  may  have  found  his  true  sphere  in  such  parts  as 
Maurice  Warner.  If  so,  he  has  only  to  add  the  power  of 
self-restraint  in  scenes  where  calmness,  rather  than  violence 
tells,  to  reach  distinction  to  which  he  has,  perhaps,  scarcely 
hoped  to  attain." 

These  kind  words,  evidently  those  of  a  thoughtful  critic, 
appeared  on  26th  October.  It  is  significant  that  the  next 
notice  in  Irving's  treasured  volume  is  dated  in  January— 


1864]  REMINISCENCES  59 


nearly  three  months  later.  This  is  accounted  for  by  the 
change  in  management  of  the  Theatre  Royal.  Several  ad- 
mirers of  Charles  Calvert,  who  had  recognised  his  ability  and 
earnestness  as  actor  and  producer,  had  induced  him  to  leave 
the  Royal  and  to  take  over  the  management  of  the  newly- 
erected  Prince's  Theatre.  He  accordingly  opened  that  house 
on  1 5th  October,  1864,  with  "The  Tempest".  In  the  follow- 
ing year,  he  revived  "  Much  Ado  About  Nothing"  and  "A 
Midsummer  Night's  Dream,"  and,  in  1866,  "Antony  and 
Cleopatra".  As  Irving  remained  at  the  Theatre  Royal,  his 
business  connection  with  Calvert  ceased.  But  he  always  re- 
membered the  kindness  of  his  old  manager  and  of  his  wife. 
Soon  after  Irving  became  a  member  of  the  company  at  the 
Royal,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Calvert  often  brought  the  young  actor 
home  to  supper — a  meal  which  was  much  needed.  "Some- 
times, when  the  fire  in  the  small  sitting-room  had  gone  out, 
they  all  three  adjourned  to  the  kitchen,  where  the  fire  was 
still  burning,  and  there,  with  their  chairs  in  a  little  semi-circle 
and  their  feet  on  the  fender,  they  discussed  plays  and  playing 
till  nearly  daybreak.  .  .  .  Did  he  reveal,  in  his  looks  and 
his  talk,  the  powers  that,  in  years  to  come,  were  to  sway  men 
so  forcibly  ?  Mrs.  Calvert  says  he  did  not — that  he  was  just 
a  pleasant,  intellectual  young  man,  with  no  special  suggestion 
of  power."  Irving  was  for  four  years  under  the  guidance  of 
Calvert.  He  never  forgot  his  old  friend  and  manager.  In 
the  year  1881,  when  he  was  on  tour  in  the  provinces,  he  was 
entertained  at  a  public  banquet  in  Manchester.  Dr.  A.  W. 
Ward,  who  was  in  the  chair,  made  a  eulogistic  speech  in 
proposing  the  health  of  the  actor.  Irving  alluded  in  felicitous 
terms  to  his  association  with,  and  gave  some  extremely 
interesting  reminiscences  of  his  early  days  in,  Manchester. 
"I  lived  here  for  five  years,"  he  said,  "and  wherever  I 
look — to  the  right  or  to  the  left,  to  the  north  or  the  south 
—I  always  find  some  remembrance,  some  memento  of  those 
five  years — youthful  aspirations,  youthful  hopes,  battles 

1 "  Reminiscences  and  Anecdotes  of  Mrs.  Charles  Calvert,"  communi- 
cated by  M.  H.  Walbrook,  Pall  Mall  Magazine,  September,  1907. 


6o         THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  iv. 

fought,  battles  won,  battles  lost,  early  ambitions,  and  many 
things  that  fill  my  mind  with  pleasure  and  sometimes  with 
pain.  But  there  is  one  association  connected  with  my  life  that 
probably  is  unknown  to  but  a  few  in  this  room.  That  is  an 
association  with  a  friend,  which  had  much  to  do,  I  believe, 
with  the  future  course  of  our  two  lives.  When  I  tell  you  that 
our  communions  were  very  grave  and  very  deep,  that  our 
friendship  was  a  strong  one,  and  for  months  and  years  we 
fought  together,  and  worked  together  to  the  best  of  our  power, 
and  with  the  means  we  had  then,  to  give  effect  to  the  art  we 
were  practising ;  when  I  tell  you  we  dreamt  of  what  might  be 
done,  but  was  not  done,  and  patted  each  other  on  the  back 
and  said,  *  Well,  old  fellow,  perhaps  the  day  will  come  when 
you  may  have  a  little  more  than  sixpence  in  your  pocket ; ' 
when  I  tell  you  that  that  man  was  well-known  to  you,  and 
that  his  name  was  Calvert,  you  will  understand  the  nature  of 
my  associations  with  Manchester.  Our  lives  were  separated 
even  while  he  lived,  and  our  intercourse  ceased  altogether ; 
he  was  working  here  and  I  was  working  elsewhere.  I  have 
no  doubt  you  will  be  able  to  trace  in  my  own  career,  and  the 
success  I  have  had,  the  benefit  of  the  communion  I  had  with 
him. 

"WThen  I  was  in  Manchester  I  had  very  many  friends. 
I  needed  good  advice  at  that  time,  for  I  found  it  a  very  diffi- 
cult thing  as  an  actor  to  pursue  my  profession,  and  to  do 
justice  to  certain  things  that  I  always  had  a  deep,  and  perhaps 
rather  an  extravagant,  idea  of,  on  the  sum  of  ^75  a  year.  I 
have  been  making  a  calculation  within  the  last  few  minutes  of 
the  amount  of  money  that  I  did  earn  in  those  days,  and  I  find 
it  was  about  ^75  a  year.  Perhaps  one  would  be  acting  out 
of  the  fifty- two  weeks  of  the  year  for  some  thirty-five.  The 
other  part  of  the  year  one  would  probably  be  receiving  nothing. 
Then  an  actor  would  be  tempted  perhaps  to  take  a  benefit, 
by  which  he  generally  lost  £20  or  ^30.  Any  friend  of  mine 
present  who  may  have  thought  a  little  less  of  me  at  that  time, 
perhaps  because  of  my  continuous  state  of  impecuniosity,  will 
forgive  me  when  I  confess  the  amount  of  my  earnings.  How- 


1864]  REMINISCENCES  61 

ever,  that  time  is  past,  but  if  there  are  any  odd  half-crowns 
that  I  owe  I  shall  be  glad  to  pay  them.  I  have  a  very  fond 
recollection,  I  have  an  affection  for  your  city,  for  very  many 
reasons.  The  training  I  received  here,  which  Professor  Ward 
has  alluded  to,  was  a  severe  training ;  I  must  say  at  first  it 
was  very  severe.  I  found  it  a  difficult  thing  to  make  my  way 
at  all  with  the  audience ;  and  I  believe  the  audience,  to  a 
certain  extent,  was  right ;  I  think  there  was  no  reason  that  I 
should  make  my  way  with  them.  I  don't  think  I  had  learnt 
enough  ;  I  think  I  was  too  raw,  too  unacceptable.  But  I  am 
very  proud  to  say  that  it  was  not  long  before,  with  the  firm- 
ness of  the  Manchester  friendship  which  I  have  always  found, 
they  got  to  like  me ;  and  I  think  before  I  parted  with  them 
they  had  an  affection  for  me.  At  all  events,  I  remember 
when  in  this  city  as  little  less — or  little  more — than  a  walking 
gentleman,  I  essayed  the  part  of  Hamlet,  the  Dane,  I  was 
looked  upon  as  a  sort  of  madman,  who  ought  to  be  taken  to 
a  sort  of  asylum  and  shut  up ;  but  I  found  in  acting  it  before 
the  audience  that  their  opinion  was  a  very  different  one,  and 
before  the  play  was  half  gone  through  I  was  received  with  a 
fervour  and  a  kindness  which  gave  me  hope  and  expectation 
that  in  the  far  and  distant  future  I  might  perhaps  be  able  to 
benefit  by  their  kindness.  Perhaps  they  thought  that  by 
encouraging  me  they  might  help  me  on  in  the  future.  I  be- 
lieve they  thought  that,  I  believe  that  was  in  the  thoughts  of 
many  of  the  audience,  for  they  received  me  with  an  enthusiasm 
and  kindness  which  my  merits  did  not  deserve." 

The  change  of  management  at  the  Theatre  Royal  re- 
sulted in  Irving's  withdrawal  from  that  establishment  ere  long. 
His  three  performances  of  Hamlet,  and  his  successes  in 
other  parts,  notably,  Hardress  Cregan  and  Maurice  Warner, 
had  endeared  him  to  a  large  section  of  Manchester  playgoers. 
It  was,  therefore,  all  the  more  galling  to  find  that  he  had 
nothing  noteworthy  to  do  from  October,  1864,  until  the 
following  January.  And  then  he  had  to  appear  in  a  comedy, 
entitled  "  Where  there's  a  Will  there's  a  Way,"  which  "  played 
the  people  in  "  to  the  pantomime !  Early  in  February,  he  was 


62         THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING    [CHAP.  iv. 

still  in  the  same  position.  A  drama  called  "The  Dark 
Cloud,"  written  by  Arthur  Sketchley,  preceded  the  pantomime. 
He  had  to  act  the  evil  genius  of  the  play,  one  Philip  Austin. 
His  personation  of  this  bold,  shameless  ruffian  was  hailed  as 
the  most  important,  and  most  meritorious,  part  of  the  per- 
formance. Careful  preparation  and  study  were  manifest 
throughout.  And  the  Examiner  was  "happy  in  adding  an- 
other testimony  to  his  merits,  and  to  that  versatility  of  talent 
which  increases  with  his  years".  He  never  lost  heart  of 
grace,  but  worked  steadfastly  in  spite  of  every  obstacle.  His 
performance  of  Robert  Macaire  was  his  last  character  of  any 
importance  at  the  Theatre  Royal  in  1 865.  The  play  was  given 
on  Saturday,  i8th  February,  before  the  pantomime.  Here 
the  natural  refinement  of  his  style  was  somewhat  against  him, 
and  the  Examiner  did  not  hesitate  to  say  so :  "  His  '  make- 
up' is  capital,  and  his  assumption  of  gentlemanly  ease  and 
nonchalance  very  clever.  There  are,  however,  natural  ob- 
stacles in  the  way  of  Mr.  Irving's  perfect  realisation  of  the 
brave,  bold  ruffian  of  the  genuine  French  stamp.  Personal 
instincts  of  a  refined  and  estimable  kind  do  not  easily  give 
way  in  his  effort  to  pourtray  the  fierce  rascality  which  marks 
Macaire's  treatment  of  his  companion,  and  we  observed  a  lack 
of  the  dash  and  vigour  which  constitute  no  unimportant  items 
of  the  villain's  nature.  Coolness  there  was,  and  effrontery, 
but  not  of  that  devil-may-care  sort  necessary  to  throw  out  the 
prominent  features  of  Macaire.  Thus,  the  earlier  portions  of 
Mr.  Irving's  acting  were  most  satisfactory,  as  requiring  less 
energy  and  greater  finish.  From  those  strictures  we  except 
the  death  scene,  in  which  he  succeeded  in  producing  a  natural 
and  impressive  finale.  We  ought  not  to  omit  a  hearty  re- 
cognition of  the  tact  displayed  in  the  dance  with  the  village 
girl ;  the  fine  gentleman  in  rags  changing  his  one  glove  from 
one  hand  to  the  other  as  his  partner  changed  sides,  and  main- 
taining his  severe  politeness  to  the  very  close,  was  quite  a 
masterly  piece  of  acting."  And  the  Guardian,  which  hither- 
to had  not  been  lavish  in  its  praise,  found  something  to  say 
in  his  favour,  despite  the  refinement  which  it  was  impossible 


1865]  HIS  REFINEMENT  63 

for  him  to  overcome  entirely  :  "  Mr.  Irving  has  always  shown 
that  a  close  study,  and  conscientious  care,  have  guided  him  in 
the  elocution  and  action  belonging  to  his  part,  whatever  that 
has  been.  A  certain  refinement  was  so  identified  with  him, 
that  to  find  him  assuming  the  villain  was  a  surprise.  Re- 
cently, he  excited  admiration  by  his  jollity  in  a  rollicking 
character,  which  yet  did  not  sacrifice  his  gentlemanliness. 
Now  he  has  made  a  considerable  step  ahead,  in  disclosing  the 
versatility  of  his  resources  by  enacting  the  part  of  Robert 
Macaire.  Here  his  refinement  is  his  greatest  difficulty  ;  but 
he  has  managed  cleverly  to  conceal  it,  and  his  excellent  dis- 
guise harmonises  well  with  the  nonchalant  air  of  the  wander- 
ing thief.  His  dance  with  the  peasant  girl  is  full  of  oddity." 
The  Courier  described  in  detail  his  rendering  of  the  character, 
winding  up  with  its  "  sanction  to  put  this  down  as  one  of  his 
most  successful"  impersonations. 

Another  opportunity  for  good  acting  came  to  him  in  April 
of  this  year.  He  had  returned,  for  a  brief  engagement,  to  his 
old  manager,  Charles  Calvert,  who  was  then  in  the  first  flush 
of  his  Shakespearean  success  at  the  Prince's  Theatre.  But 
the  reason  for  his  leaving  the  Royal  was  forced  upon  him  :  it 
was  not  of  his  own  inclining.  Indeed,  it  was  closely  connected 
with  the  high  ideal  which  he  had  already  set  himself  to  attain 
for  the  stage.  Two  tricksters,  who  called  themselves  the 
Davenport  Brothers,  had  succeeded  in  gulling  the  susceptible 
people  of  England — or,  at  any  rate,  a  large  proportion  of 
them — with  so-called  spiritualistic  seances.  In  an  unhappy 
moment  for  them,  their  agent  had  the  audacity  to  offer  a 
hundred  pounds  to  any  person  who  could  perform  their  feats. 
This  tempting  bait  appealed  very  strongly  to  a  certain  needy 
actor  called  Henry  Irving,  to  a  fellow  player,  Phillip  Day, 
and  to.  Frederick  Maccabe,  who  subsequently  became  ex- 
tremely popular  as  an  entertainer.  It  is  not  recorded  that  the 
trio  ever  obtained  the  hard  cash,  but  they  had  the  satisfaction 
of  completely  annihilating  as  impudent  a  pair  of  charlatans  as 
ever  existed.  On  the  afternoon  of  Saturday,  25th  February, 
1865,  the  Library  Hall  of  the  Manchester  Athenaeum  was 


64         THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  iv. 

filled  with  some  five  hundred  ladies  and  gentlemen  in  response 
to  an  invitation  issued  by  the  performers  to  a  display  of  "  pre- 
ternatural philosophy,"  in  a  "  private  seance  a  la  Davenport." 
The  exposure  was  complete,  and  Irving  obtained  a  vast 
amount  of  notoriety  through  his  share  in  the  unmasking  of  the 
adventurers.  The  daily  papers  devoted  columns  to  the  affair. 
Process  for  process,  phenomena  for  phenomena,  trick  for  trick, 
the  new  " brothers"  rivalled  their  prototypes  and  amazed  and 
delighted  their  audience.  After  some  people  of  position  had 
been  chosen  to  superintend  the  binding  of  the  "  brothers," 
Irving  stepped  forward,  and  in  a  modest,  gentlemanly  address, 
stated  the  object  of  the  meeting.  He  said  that,  in  common 
with  others  of  his  friends,  his  attention  had  been  called  to  the 
so-called  manifestations  of  the  notorious  Davenports  ;  that  two 
gentlemen  believed  themselves  capable  of  doing — under  pre- 
cisely similar  conditions — all  that  the  " brothers"  did;  that 
the  entire  affair  was  the  result  of  skill,  tact,  and  clever  mani- 
pulation ;  and  that  the  Davenports  were  no  better  than  show- 
men. Having  read  several  extracts  from  a  pamphlet  in  which 
it  was  alleged  that  spiritualism  had  been  part  and  parcel  of 
the  inheritance  of  the  Davenports,  he  proceeded  to  introduce 
the  new  " brothers".  In  so  doing,  he  made  great  capital  by 
his  burlesque  of  a  certain  Dr.  Ferguson,  who  had  taken  part 
in  the  original  seance.  The  rapid  assumption  of  a  wig  and 
beard,  a  few  adroit  facial  touches,  a  neckerchief  of  the  ap- 
proved sort,  and  a  lightly-buttoned  surtout,  soon  changed  the 
actor  into  an  admirable  "double  "  of  the  renowned  "  doctor". 
The  resemblance  was  so  faithful  that  it  was  immediately 
greeted  with  applause  and  amusement.  He  addressed  the 
audience  with  all  the  serious  demeanour  of  the  original,  repro- 
ducing the  exact  tone,  accent,  expression,  and  gesture  so  ac- 
curately as  to  be  "  irresistible  in  their  ludicrous  likeness  to 
nature".  His  speech  was  as  follows  : — 

"  In  introducing  to  your  notice  the  remarkable  phenomena  which  have 
attended  the  gentlemen  who  are  not  brothers — who  are  about  to  appear 
before  you,  I  do  not  deem  it  necessary  to  offer  any  observations  upon  the 
extraordinary  manifestations.  I  shall  therefore  at  once  commence  a  long 
rigmarole — for  the  purpose  of  distracting  your  attention,  and  filling  your  in- 


1865]     EXPOSURE  OF  THE  DAVENPORTS       65 

telligent  heads  with  perplexity.  I  need  not  tell  this  enlightened  audience  of 
the  gigantic  discoveries  that  have  been  made  and  are  being  made  in  the  un- 
fathomable abyss  of  science — I  need  not  tell  this  enlightened  audience  (be- 
cause if  I  did  they  wouldn't  believe  me) — (laughter) — I  say  I  need  not  tell 
this  enlightened  audience  that  the  manifestations  they  are  about  to  witness 
are  produced  by  an  occult  power  (the  meaning  of  which  I  don't  clearly 
understand) — (laughter) ;  but  we  simply  bring  before  your  notice  facts,  and 
from  these  facts  you  must  form  your  own  conclusions,  (hear,  hear,  and  re- 
newed applause).  Concerning  the  early  life  of  these  gentlemen,  columns  of 
the  most  uninteresting  description  could  be  written — (laughter).  I  will 
mention  one  or  two  interesting  facts  connected  with  these  remarkable  men, 
and  for  the  truth  of  which  I  personally  vouch.  In  early  life  one  of  them, 
to  the  perfect  unconcern  of  everybody  else,  was  instantly  and  most  uncon- 
sciously floating  about  his  peaceful  dwelling  in  the  arms  of  his  amiable  nurse 
— (laughter) — while,  on  the  other  occasions,  he  was  frequently,  with  invisible 
hands,  tied  to  his  mother's  apron  strings — (renewed  laughter).  Peculiarities 
of  a  like  nature  were  exhibited  by  his  companion,  whose  acquaintance  with 
various  spirits  commenced  many  years  ago,  and  has  increased  to  the  present 
moment,  with  pleasure  to  himself  and  profit  to  others — (roars  of  laughter). 
These  gentlemen  have  not  been  celebrated  throughout  the  vast  continent 
of  America — they  have  not  astonished  the  whole  civilised  world,  but  they 
have  travelled  in  various  parts  of  this  glorious  land — the  land  of  Bacon — 
(laughter) — and  are  about  to  appear  in  a  new  phase  in  your  glorious  city  of 
Manchester — (laughter).  Many  really  sensible  and  intelligent  individuals 
seem  to  think  that  the  requirement  of  darkness  seems  to  infer  trickery — 
(laughter) — so  it  does — (cheers).  But  I  will  strive  to  convince  you  that  it  does 
not — (hear,  hear).  Is  not  the  dark  chamber  necessary  to  the  process  of 
photography  ?  and  what  would  we  reply  to  him  who  would  say,  '  I  believe 
photography  to  be  a  humbug — do  it  in  the  light,  and  we  will  believe  other- 
wise ? '  It  is  true,  we  know  why  darkness  is  essential  to  the  production 
of  the  sun  picture,  and  if  scientific  men  will  subject  these  phenomena  to 
analysis,  they  will  find  why  darkness  is  essential  to  our  manifestations — 
(laughter) — but  we  don't  want  them  to  find — (laughter) — we  want  them  to 
avoid  a  common-sense  view  of  mystery — (laughter).  We  want  them  to  be 
blinded  by  our  puzzle,  and  to  believe  with  implicit  faith  in  the  greatest 
humbug  of  the  nineteenth  century — (loud  applause  and  laughter)." 

The  papers  were  eloquent  in  their  praise  of  Irving's  persona- 
tion. The  Guardian  was  moved  to  unwonted  eulogy,  "for 
the  happiness  of  Mr.  Irving's  burlesque,  the  smartness  of 
his  art,  and  his  readiness  of  repartee,  went  far  to  make  the 
entertainment  the  most  enjoyable  that  has  been  given  in 
Manchester  for  a  long  time.  Again  and  again,  the  room  re- 
sounded with  the  heartiest  laughter  at  Mr.  Irving's  humorous 
sallies,  whose  fun  was  heightened  by  the  mock  gravity  with 
which  they  were  delivered.  Mr.  Irving  thus  supplied  a  great 

intellectual  gratification,  which,  combined  with  the  skilful  ex- 
VOL.  i.   '  5 


66          THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  iv. 

posure  of  the  Davenport  humbug  by  his  confreres,  made  one 
feel  that  it  was  a  privilege  to  be  one  of  the  invited  guests." 

The  entertainment  aroused  such  excitement  in  Manchester 
that  it  was  repeated  a  week  later,  this  time  in  the  Assembly 
Room  of  the  Free  Trade  Hall.  The  doors  were  opened  at 
half-past  one  o'clock,  but,  before  that  hour,  the  entrance  was 
surrounded  by  an  eager  group  of  persons  "of  highly  respect- 
able and  influential  position  in  the  City,"  waiting  for  admission. 
Irving  again  introduced  the  mock  brothers,  and  made  another 
humorous  speech.  And,  once  more,  the  leading  papers  gave 
a  long  account  of  the  clever  exposure.  Irving  had  to  pay  the 
penalty  of  this  success.  For  the  management  of  the  Theatre 
Royal  tried  to  induce  him  to  repeat  the  entertainment  on  the 
stage  of  their  play-house.  But  he  considered  that  such  a 
programme  was  not  in  keeping  with  the  dignity  of  a  leading 
theatre.  His  refusal  meant  his  severance  with  the  Royal. 
He  did  not  remain  very  long  with  Calvert  at  the  Prince's, 
but  he  added  Claudio  in  "Much  Ado  About  Nothing," 
Edmund  in  "  King  Lear,"  and  the  Due  de  Nemours  in 
"  Louis  XL,"  to  his  already  long  list  of  parts.  The  latter 
character  brought  him  many  congratulations.  It  is  curious 
to  think  of  Irving,  who  was  now  twenty-seven  years  of  age, 
acting  the  hero  of  this  melodrama  in  which,  years  afterwards, 
he  made  such  a  great  hit  as  Louis  XI.  that  the  play  remained 
in  his  repertoire  from  that  time  until  the  end  of  his  career — from 
1878  until  1905.  The  Examiner  was  able  to  speak  of  his 
impersonation  of  the  bold  Nemours  in  high  terms  :  "  it  was 
careful,  intelligent,  well-studied  throughout ;  the  bedroom 
scene,"  where  the  avenger  "checks  his  uplifted  hand  and 
spares  the  miserable  monarch's  life,  was  a  masterly  display  of 
art".  This  performance  closed  the  season,  and,  on  the  even- 
ing of  1 2th  April,  Irving  took  a  temporary  farewell  of 
Manchester.  As  the  occasion  was  announced  as  his  benefit, 
it  is  satisfactory  to  know  that  the  large  room  of  the  Free 
Trade  Hall  "  never  presented  a  more  crowded  and  animated 
appearance  ".  Irving  was  "  received  with  vehement  and  pro- 
longed cheering"  —a  proof  that  he  had  established  himself  in 


1865]  REMINISCENCES  67 

the  favour  of  Manchester  playgoers.  He  recited  an  address, 
which  had  been  written  for  him  by  a  local  gentleman,  Mr. 
Fox  Turner,  in  which  the  Davenport  phenomena  were  satiric- 
ally alluded  to,  and  then  played  Captain  Charles  in  Dance's 
comedietta,  "  Who  Speaks  First  ?  "  Frederick  Maccabe 
gave  a  selection  from  his  entertainment,  "  Begone  Dull  Care," 
and  a  repetition  of  the  Davenport  exposure,  with,  of  course, 
Irving  as  the  "doctor,"  preceded  "Raising  the  Wind,"  with 
Irving  in  his  familiar  character  of  Jeremy  Diddler.  An 
actress,  whose  recent  success  at  the  Hay  market  Theatre 
will  be  fresh  in  the  minds  of  many  London  theatre-goers,  Miss 
Florence  Haydon,  played  in  the  first  item  in  the  programme, 
and  her  sister,  Miss  Maud  Haydon,  acted  in  both  plays. 
The  prices  of  admission,  judged  by  the  present  scale,  were 
very  moderate- — one  shilling  for  the  body  of  the  hall,  double 
that  sum  for  the  gallery,  and  four  shillings  for  the  reserved 
seats. 

In  a  speech  at  the  Manchester  Arts  Club  in  1887, 
Irving  recalled  these  early  years.  They  were  years  of 
struggle,  and  there  was  much  bitterness  in  them.  But  it  was 
characteristic  of  the  man  that  there  was  no  tinge  of  bitterness 
in  his  reflections.  "Theatrical  management  in  those  days 
was  not  a  very  complicated  business,"  he  said,  "there  was 
no  competition,  no  over-crowding,  no  one  could  say  that  the 
theatre  was  not  well-ventilated ;  but,  though  the  houses  were 
dull,  we  were  a  merry  family.  Our  wants  were  few;  we 
were  not  extravagant.  We  had  a  good  deal  of  exercise,  and 
what  we  did  not  earn,  we  worked  hard  to  borrow  as  frequently 
as  possible  from  one  another.  Ah,  gentlemen,  they  were 
very  happy  days.  But  do  not  think,  gentlemen,  that  this 
was  always  our  practice  of  an  afternoon.  There  was  plenty 
of  admirable  and  good  work  done  in  the  theatre.  The  public 
of  Manchester  was  in  those  days  a  critical  public,  and  could 
not  long  be  satisfied  with  such  meagre  fare  as  I  have  pictured. 
During  the  five  years  of  my  sojourn  in  Manchester  there  was 
a  succession  of  brilliant  plays  performed  by  first-rate  actors, 
and  I  must  say  that  I  owe  very  much  to  the  valuable  experi- 

5* 


68          THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  iv. 

ence  which  I  gained  in  your  Theatre  Royal  under  the 
management  of  John  Knowles.  Whether  we  were  all  first- 
rate  actors,  I  will  not  say.  We  thought  so,  and  were  happy 
in  that  belief.  .  .  .  When  I  first  came  to  your  city,  art  was 
not  as  potent  as  it  is  now.  To  feel  how  great  a  change  has 
been  wrought,  and  how  far-reaching  an  influence  has  been 
exercised,  one  has  only  to  walk  through  your  art  galleries. 
Stage  art  improved  very  much  in  Manchester  under  the  in- 
fluence of  Charles  Calvert,  with  his  Shakespeare  and  other 
revivals.  Calvert's  was  a  worthy  ambition  which  should 
hardly,  I  think,  be  left  to  purely  private  enterprise — certainly 
in  a  city  like  Manchester,  with  its  art  schools  and  encourage- 
ment." Irving's  tribute  to  Calvert  in  this  speech  should  be 
noted ;  also,  his  advocacy  of  a  municipal  theatre — a  subject 
always  dear  to  his  heart. 


CHAPTER  V. 

1865-1866. 

Edinburgh  again — Robert  Macaire — A  friendly  criticism  and  a  pro- 
phecy— Hamlet  at  Bury — lago  and  Macduffat  Oxford — Plays  with  Fechter 
in  Birmingham — His  poverty  there — Liverpool,  and  the  Isle  of  Man — 
Liverpool  again — Amusing  criticisms — A  "  sterling  actor  " — Praise  from  the 
Porcupine — His  Robert  Macaire  favourably  received — Supports  J.  L. 
Toole  in  the  provinces — John  Peerybingle — His  reminiscences  of  Liverpool 
— Acts  Rawdon  Scudamore — Receives  three  offers  from  London  in  con- 
sequence— The  Ghost,  Bob  Brierley,  and  Fouche — Leaves  the  north  for 
London,  having  acted  five  hundred  and  eighty-eight  parts  during  his 
apprenticeship  to  the  stage. 

AT  the  time  of  his  leaving  Manchester,  Irving  was  twenty- 
seven  years  of  age.  Eight  and  a  half  years  had  passed  since 
he  joined  the  theatrical  profession,  yet  he  had  to  endure  the 
drudgery  of  the  life  of  a  strolling  player  for  another  eighteen 
months,  ere  he  obtained  a  footing  in  London.  These  last 
months  of  his  probation  were  extremely  varied.  From  Man- 
chester, he  proceeded  to  Edinburgh  where,  at  the  Prince  of 
Wales's  Operetta  House,  he  played  Robert  Macaire,  and  in 
"A  Dark  Cloud"  and  several  light  pieces.  This  was  only 
a  temporary  theatre,  better  known  as  the  Waterloo  Rooms, 
and  the  appointments  were  not  of  the  best,  as  may  be  im- 
agined from  the  use  in  the  French  drama  of  "  The  Roadside 
Inn"  of  a  bottle-basket  labelled  No.  5  Leith  Street,  Edin- 
burgh. But  the  actor  triumphed  over  these  minor  difficulties, 
and  his  Macaire  was  accorded  a  hearty  welcome  by  his  old 
friends.  The  North  Briton  was  "glad  to  note  the  fact  of  Mr. 
Irving's  improved  style.  He  has  now  been  long  enough  on 
the  stage  to  find  out  and  feel  the  force  of  our  hints  and  critic- 
isms of  five  years  ago."  Upon  the  occasion  of  his  playing  in 
"  An  Hour  at  Seville"  (1858)  "we  predicted  that  he  would 


70          THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  v. 

become  a  useful  and  good  actor,  but  now  we  can  foresee  that 
he  will  have  a  career!  "  This  friendly  paper  lived  long 
enough  to  see  its  prophecy  fulfilled.  From  Edinburgh,  Irving 
returned  to  Lancashire,  and  acted  Hamlet  on  Friday,  23rd 
June,  at  the  Athenaeum,  Bury.  He  was  supported  in  the 
male  parts — with  the  exception  of  that  of  the  Ghost — by 
amateur  actors  of  Bury  and  Manchester,  the  Polonius  being 
Mr.  Alfred  Darbyshire,  the  well-known  architect,  who  after- 
wards became  one  of  his  warmest  personal  friends.  The 
Ophelia  was  Miss  Florence  Haydon.  The  Davenport  enter- 
tainment was  announced  as  a  conclusion  to  the  bill,  but,  as 
"  Hamlet"  did  not  terminate  until  half-past  eleven  o'clock,  the 
farce,  "  My  Wife's  Dentist,"  was  substituted,  with  Irving  in 
the  title  role.  "  Hamlet "  was  repeated  on  the  Saturday  night. 
Irving's  greatest  hits  appear  to  have  been  made  in  the  soli- 
loquy at  the  close  of  the  meeting  between  Hamlet  and  the 
players — "  O,  what  a  rogue  and  peasant  slave  ami!"-— in 
the  conclusion  of  the  play  scene,  and,  above  all,  in  the  closet 
scene,  in  which  Hamlet's  tenderness  to  his  mother  was  very 
marked.  A  few  weeks  later,  at  Oxford,  he  acted  I  ago  and 
Macduff,  winning  much  commendation  in  both  characters. 
Here,  again,  his  tenderness  when  Macduff  learns  of  the 
murder  of  his  wife  and  children  was  much  extolled.  But  it 
is  curious  to  read  that  the  audience  was  worked  up  to  the  high- 
est pitch  of  enthusiasm  in  the  last  act  of  the  tragedy  in  which 
Macbeth  and  Macduff  are  engaged  in  deadly  combat,  and 
''during  that  long  and  fierce  struggle  there  was  incessant 
cheering  ".  These  were  the  palmy  days  of  the  drama.  From 
Oxford,  he  went  to  Birmingham,  where  he  played  from  the 
beginning  of  September  until  November,  at  the  Prince  of 
Wales's  Theatre.  The  local  critics  seem  to  have  liked  his 
Bob  Brierley  better  than  anything  else,  and,  although  they 
were  not  impressed  by  his  Laertes,  his  acting  of  that  char- 
acter nevertheless  was  sufficiently  impressive  to  induce 
Charles  Fechter  to  make  him  a  tempting  offer  to  join  his 
company  at  the  Lyceum.  But  he  was  under  an  engagement 
from  which  he  could  not  be  released,  and  he  was  not  destined 


1 86s]  LIVERPOOL  71 

to  reach  London  until  nearly  a  year  later.  These  Birming- 
ham experiences  were  extremely  trying,  as  Irving  recalled  in 
1 897  when,  in  a  speech  made  at  the  Clef  Club,  he  referred  to 
the  poverty  which,  through  no  fault  of  his  own,  he  had  to 
endure. 

He  went  from  Birmingham  to  Liverpool  where,  at  St. 
James's  Hall,  on  the  I3th  of  November,  he  opened  in  his  old 
part  of  Philip  Austin  in  "  A  Dark  Cloud".  But  burlesque, 
followed  by  farce,  was  the  staple  bill  of  fare.  Irving  did  not 
appear  in  the  former,  but  he  acted  Captain  Charles — another 
familiar  part — in  "Who  Speaks  First?" — and  Captain  Or- 
mond  in  "Tom  Noddy's  Secret".  A  brief  engagement  in 
Douglas,  Isle  of  Man,  preceded  a  long  season  at  the  Prince 
of  Wales 's  Theatre — a  small  house,  now  put  to  other  uses, 
which  was  a  gold-mine  in  its  day — where,  on  the  nth  of 
December,  he  acted  Archibald  Carlyle  in  a  version  of  "  East 
Lynne".  Although  there  was  a  "star"  actress  in  the  cast, 
Irving  received  very  prominent  notice  for  his  performance, 
and  this  despite  the  fact  that  the  part  was  little  more  than  a 
lay  figure.  But  he  managed  to  infuse  it  with  life  and  interest. 
It  was  noted  that  he  was  careful,  quiet,  and  gentlemanly  in 
all  his  actions,  and  that,  without  sacrificing  the  true  meaning 
of  the  character,  he  gave  it  an  air  of  reality  which,  without  his 
own  personality,  it  would  have  lacked.  Liverpool  at  this 
period  possessed  two  critical  weekly  journals.  Their  nature 
was  sufficiently  indicated  by  their  respective  titles — the 
Tomahawk  and  the  Porcupine.  Although  they  differed  in 
many  graver  issues,  they  were  at  one  in  their  liking  for  the 
young  actor.  The  first-named  paper,  however,  was  a  little 
vitriolic  on  occasion.  In  criticising  "  Only  a  Clod,"  having 
drawn  attention  in  parentheses  to  a  somewhat  perplexing  state- 
ment— "  Mr.  Henry  Irving  makes  his  first  appearance  for 
the  second  time  at  this  theatre" — it  castigated  him  for  his 
defects.  Having  set  him  down  as  "a  sterling  actor,"  it  up- 
braided him  for  his  disagreeable  peculiarities,  such  as  "licking 
his  lips,  wrinkling  his  forehead,  and  speaking  through  his 
nose".  The  first  of  this  trio  of  mannerisms  he  retained  to 


72          THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING    [CHAP.  v. 

the  end,  especially  when  speaking  in  front  of  the  curtain,  but 
it  is  to  his  credit  that  he  abolished  the  other  two.  On  another 
occasion,  the  slashing  critic  of  the  Tomahawk  opined  that 
"he  would  meet  with  far  greater  success  if  he  were  more 
himself  on  every  occasion  and  managed  to  leave  off  the 
drowsiness  of  voice  which  he  patronises  and  the  monotony  of 
attitude  into  which  he  now  and  then  falls".  It  had  much  to 
say  in  his  praise  on  this  and  other  occasions.  It  was  particu- 
larly favourable  to  his  Philip  Austin  in  "A  Dark  Cloud" 
which  it  described  as  "  a  remarkable  piece  of  character  acting, 
betraying  in  nearly  all  cases  a  surprising  amount  of  study  from 
life.  Not  alone  was  this  noticeable  in  the  nasal  voice  and 
effective,  unexaggerated  make-up,  but  most  especially  in  the 
actions  accompanying  passages  which  quite  warranted,  but 
did  not  suggest,  the  filling-up  accorded  them  by  Mr.  Irving." 
From  which  it  will  be  seen  that  he  was  even  then  still  think- 
ing for  himself  in  his  delineation  of  character. 

Liverpool  enabled  Irving  to  renew  his  acquaintance  with 
Charles  Mathews,  whom  he  had  met  five  years  previously  at 
Glasgow,  and  to  cement  a  friendship  which  only  ended  with 
the  death  of  the  famous  comedian.  Mathews  produced  "  The 
Silver  Lining"  during  the  second  week  of  his  engagement  at 
the  Prince  of  Wales's  Theatre,  and  Irving  won  new  honours 
by  his  impersonation  of  Arthur  Merivale.  The  daily  and 
weekly  papers  united  in  his  praise  and  boldly  stated  that  he 
shared  the  honours  of  the  performance  with  Mathews.  The 
prickly  Porcupine  analysed  his  delineation  very  closely  and 
congratulated  him  "  on  the  artistic  vividness  and  decision  of 
his  personation.  .  .  .  There  was  something  handsomely  dia- 
bolic in  the  fixed  sneer  on  his  appropriately  pale  face  ;  and  the 
almost  snarling  tone  in  which  he  gave  some  of  his  most  dis- 
agreeable speeches  added  immensely  to  their  force.  ...  In 
the  case  of  another  actor,  it  might  be  found  that  the  mere  talk 
of  the  part  was  so  uninfluential  as  to  give  the  development 
more  than  a  touch  of  the  ridiculous ;  but  with  Mr.  Irving, 
manner,  bearing,  facial  expression,  and  voice  become  full  of 
alarming  suggestiveness."  Another  remarkable  impersona- 


1865]  A  WILY  HYPOCRITE  73 

tion  followed  immediately.  This  was  Fox  Bromley  in  West- 
land  Marston's  drama,  "The  Favourite  of  Fortune,"  which 
had  been  brought  out  during  the  previous  week  in  Glasgow. 
E.  A.  Sothern,  then  in  the  height  of  his  popularity,  was  the 
"star,"  but  he  did  not  overshadow  the  younger  actor.  It  is 
evident  that  his  capacity  for  getting  at  the  heart  of  a  character 
was  on  the  increase.  "In  his  hands,"  the  Porcupine  said, 
"the  character  is  such  a  perfect  study,  down  even  to  the 
minutest  details,  that  we  should  have  been  glad  to  see  more 
of  him  in  the  course  of  the  piece,  and  it  would  have  been  still 
more  interesting  if  his  talk  had  been  as  forcible  as  his  make-up, 
or  as  suggestive  as  his  acting :  it  seemed  a  pity  to  expend  so 
much  artistic  elaboration  on  a  personage  of  such  comparative 
unimportance.  From  an  individual  who  looked  like  Mephis- 
topheles  in  reduced  circumstances,  with  a  cross  of  German 
philosopher  and  a  dash  of  Fosco,1  we  would  naturally  expect 
something  more  than  smooth  meanness  and  abject  mendi- 
city. .  .  .  He  is  a  remarkable  character  actor  and  bestows 
an  amount  of  attention  on  every  part  he  plays  that  nearly 
always  results  in  the  most  unquestioned  triumph.  In  Fox 
Bromley,  he  was  fully  equal  to  his  previous  notoriety. 
The  wily  hypocrite  was  noticeable  in  every  lineament 
of  face,  form,  and  voice,  and  the  thin,  black  moustache 
gave  a  ghastly  grimness  to  his  smile  that  might  freeze  the 
blood  in  the  veins  of  any  one  over  whom  the  wretch  had 
power." 

In  those  days,  the  younger  members  of  the  stock  com- 
pany had  to  play  almost  anything  for  which  they  were  cast 
by  the  management.  The  Whitsuntide  attraction  at  "  the 
little  house  in  the  square"  was  Burnand's  burlesque,  "Paris, 
or  Vive  Lempriere".  As  OEnone,  Irving  had  an  absurd 
part  in  the  representation  of  which  he  "displayed  as  much 
histrionic  ability  as  he  invariably  does  when  he  has  an 
intelligent  part  to  render".  He  also  gave  some  clever 

1  Count  Fosco,  in  "The  Woman  in  White"  by  Wilkie  Collins,  then 
exceedingly  popular. 


74          THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING    [CHAP.  v. 

parodies  of  favourite  players  of  the  day.  His  greatest  triumph 
in  Liverpool  was  in  "  Robert  Macaire,"  which  he  played  for 
his  benefit  on  24th  May.  The  Porcupine,  having  recognised 
the  versatility  which  he  had  shown  throughout  the  season, 
found  that  his  Macaire  "was  a  Chesterfield  and  a  gaol-bird 
in  one,  with  a  dash  of  Machiavelli,  and  a  dash  of  Jingle.  He 
was  merribly  miserable,  jocosely  wretched,  and  laughed  with 
a  grim  determination  and  an  echo  suggesting  a  gallows- 
shriek."  Truly,  it  must  have  been  an  inspiriting  performance ! 
However,  there  was  "a  great  audience"- — which  was  ex- 
tremely satisfactory,  considering  the  circumstances — "  and  it 
roared  with  jocularity,  burst  into  ringing  plaudits,  and  stamped 
its  approval  upon  every  broad  touch  of  nature  in  the  per- 
formance. But  for  the  accident  that  the  end  of  the  season 
had  come,  Robert  Macaire  and  Jacques  Strop  might  have 
played  their  tragic  comedy,  their  farcical  burlesque  of  a  melo- 
drama, many  nights  on  the  same  boards  ;  and  the  Liverpudlian 
dramatic  world  have  been  the  wiser  and  the  better  for  the 
experience."  After  leaving  Liverpool,  he  played  with  his 
friend,  J.  L.  Toole,  at  Newcastle-on-Tyne  and  other  places. 
The  principal  play  of  the  evening  was  "  Caleb  Plummer,"  in 
which  Irving  acted  John  Peerybingle — a  great  proof  of  his 
versatility — and,  it  was  said,  realised  all  the  manly,  tender, 
and  true-hearted  attributes  of  the  honest  carrier  to  perfection. 
He  also  acted  Victor  Dubois  in  "  Ici  On  Parle  Franfais,"' 
Brown  in  "The  Spitalfields  Weaver,"  and  recited  the  for- 
bidden poem  of  his  boyhood,  "The  Uncle". 

He  invariably  spoke  of  his  early  days  in  Liverpool  with 
kindly  feeling.  Within  twelve  months  of  his  death,  at  a  luncheon 
given  by  the  Lord  Mayor,  at  the  Liverpool  Town  Hall,  he 
said :  "I  have  known  Liverpool  nearly  fifty  years.  I  re- 
member it  in  the  days  which  were  for  me  days  of  apprentice- 
ship and  struggle,  but  also  of  considerable  buoyancy,  stimu- 
lated by  the  kindness  which  has  culminated  now,  and  in  this 
distinguished  company.  Perhaps  I  was  not  quite  so  buoyant 
in  the  year  1860  as  to  anticipate  the  course  that  events  were 
to  take.  In  that  year  I  spent  a  fortnight  in  Liverpool,  and 


1 866]  MANCHESTER  AGAIN  75 

played  a  modest  engagement  at  the  old  Theatre  Royal.1 
Five  years  later,  I  was  here  again,  and  did  something  or 
other  at  the  St.  James's  Hall  in  Lime  Street.  The  eye  of 
a  young  man  is  sometimes  very  prophetic  ;  at  any  rate,  it 
often  seems  to  him  in  after  years  that  he  used  to  see  a  long 
way  ahead.  But  I  don't  think  my  prophetic  eye  saw  me 
across  the  gulf  which  separated  St.  James's  Hall  from  the 
Town  Hall.  What  I  did  in  Lime  Street  I  have  forgotten— 
but  what  other  people  did,  or  failed  to  do,  had  the  effect  of 
leaving  me  to  walk  about  that  thoroughfare  with  a  total  lack 
of  anything  tangible  to  cling  to.  I  must  have  indulged  at 
that  time  in  a  good  deal  of  airy  speculation.  There  was 
nothing  else  to  indulge  in ;  but  I  am  inclined  to  doubt,  my 
Lord  Mayor,  whether  I  came  down  to  the  Exchange  flags, 
and  took  a  good  look  at  the  Town  Hall,  and  said  to  myself: 
'  Well,  there's  a  capital  lunch,  and  there's  uncommonly  good 
company  there  for  me — about  forty  years  from  now ! '  To 
the  uneasy  wayfarer  in  Lime  Street  there  came  in  that  year, 

1865,  a  stroke  of  fortune  in  the  shape  of  a  six  months'  en- 
gagement at  the  Prince  of  Wales's  Theatre  in  Clayton  Square. 
From  that  time   dates  the   encouragement  I    have   always 
found  in   Liverpool — encouragement  I  owe  above  all  to  my 
old  friend,  Sir  Edward  Russell,  one  of  the  very  finest  critics  of 
the  drama  this  country  has  ever  known." 

The  dreariness  of  the  struggle  in  the  provinces  was  now 
drawing  to  a  close.  Dion  Boucicault,  remembering  the 
success  which  Irving  had  made  in  the  part  of  Hardress 
Cregan  two  years  previously,  offered  him  an  engagement  to 
play  an  original  part  in  his  forthcoming  drama,  ''The  Two 
Lives  of  Mary  Leigh".  Accordingly, on  Monday,  3Oth  July, 

1866,  he  acted  the  character  of  Rawdon  Scudamore  in  the 
production  of  the  drama  at  the  Prince's  Theatre,  Manchester. 
His  success  was  the  stepping-stone  to  London,  for  he  forthwith 

1  This  was  soon  after  his  first  appearance  in  Manchester.  The  Theatre 
Royal  there  being  required  for  Italian  Opera,  "Faust  and  Marguerite"  was 
transferred  for  two  weeks  to  Liverpool,  where  his  impersonation  of  the 
"amatory  alchymist"  met  with  considerable  favour. 


;6  THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  v. 

received  three  offers  for  the  metropolis — from  Charles  Reade, 
Tom  Taylor,  and  Dion  Boucicault.  He  felt  so  sure  of 
himself  now,  that  when  he  accepted  Boucicault's  offer  to 
play  in  Manchester,  it  was  on  the  understanding  that  if  he 
made  a  success  as  Rawdon  Scudamore  in  the  provinces,  he 
should  act  the  character  in  the  London  production  of  the 
drama.  His  interpretation  of  the  part  was  so  remarkable 
that  it  brought  the  offers  of  engagement  from  the  three  skilled 
judges  of  acting  aforesaid,  and  he  was  no  doubt  wise  in  de- 
ciding to  open  in  the  metropolis  in  a  part  in  which  he  knew  that 
he  could  do  himself  justice.  The  local  press  noted  that 
Irving,  during  his  year's  absence  from  Manchester,  had  im- 
proved in  his  acting  "  Many  indications  in  his  Scudamore," 
said  the  Guardian,  in  the  course  of  a  long  notice  of  him, 
"show  a  progress  in  the  capacity  to  realise  and  reflect  the 
subtle  traits  which  in  inferior  hands  are  overlooked  or  brushed 
aside  in  a  comprehensive  generalisation.  Mr.  Irving  never 
neglects  the  little  things  which  go  far  to  sustain  the  unity  of  a 
character,  nor  does  he  deal  with  them  with  any  seeming  art. 
Having  carefully  and  closely  studied  his  part,  he  is  simply 
consistent  alike  in  the  more  marked  features  and  in  the  lesser 
details.  Hence  it  is  that  in  the  new  drama  he  is  a  thorough 
rogue,  and  the  instinctive  shrinking  from  him  is  only  an 
evidence  of  the  cleverness  with  which  Mr.  Irving  has  suc- 
ceeded in  his  self-imposed  task."  This  recognition  of  his 
industry  and  ability  must  have  been  pleasing  to  him,  as  a 
reward  for  his  long  trial  in  Manchester.  Before  leaving  that 
city,  he  played  three  other  parts  which  were  as  different  as 
possible,  yet  his  merit  in  all  was  fully  recognised.  There 
could  hardly  be  three  characters  more  divergent  than  the 
Ghost  in  "  Hamlet,"  honest  Bob  Brierley  in  "  The  Ticket-of- 
Leave  Man,"  or  the  wily  Fouche  in  "Plot  and  Passion". 
He  delivered  the  lines  of  the  first-named  part,  it  need  hardly 
be  said,  intelligently,  but  in  a  distinct  voice  which  was  in  the 
approved  sepulchral  tones  of  the  time.  As  Bob  Brierley, 
he  played  easily  and  earnestly,  giving  assurance  from  the 
first  that  he  was  thoroughly  at  home  in  the  part,  as  indeed  he 


From  a  photograph. 


HENRY  IRVING  IN   1866. 


1 866]  TEN  YEARS  OF  TRIAL  77 

was.  The  chief  merit  of  that  performance  was  his  consistent 
and  carefully  thought  out  rendering  of  the  character.  His 
Fouche,  in  dress,  look,  manner,  tone — in  everything  in  fact, 
was  an  excellent  rendering. 

Exactly  ten  years  passed  before  he  succeeded,  thanks  to  his 
foresight  in  making  the  stipulation  with  Boucicault  in  regard 
to  the  production  of  "  The  Two  Lives  of  Mary  Leigh,"  ere  he 
got  a  foothold  in  London.  During  that  strenuous  period  he 
had  accomplished  an  amount  of  work  which,  even  to  those 
who  knew  his  enormous  capacity  in  this  connection,  is  stup- 
endous. During  his  first  two  and  a  half  years  on  the  stage, 
he  acted — as  was  first  recorded  in  my  "biographical  sketch" 
of  1883 — tne  amazing  number  of  four  hundred  and  twenty- 
eight  parts.  Between  5th  March  1860,  and  3oth  July  1866, 
he  added  one  hundred  and  sixty  characters  to  his  credit.  In 
London  he  played  eighty-three  parts,  including  thirteen  Shake- 
spearean ones.  The  total  number  of  characters  which  he  im- 
personated is  six  hundred  and  seventy-one.1  So  that,  when  he 
came  to  London,  he  had  a  fine  record  for  industry  and  a  reputa- 
tion as  an  ambitious  actor.  He  had  been  in  the  best  schools  of 
acting — the  stock  companies  of  Edinburgh  and  Manchester— 
and  he  had  supported  some  of  the  foremost  players  of  the  day 
including  Helen  Faucit,  Charlotte  Cushman,  John  Vandenhoff, 
Frederick  Robson,  Edwin  Booth,  E.  A.  Sothern,  G.  V. 
Brooke,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  W.  J.  Florence.  From  a  personal 
point  of  view,  it  was  also  his  good  fortune  to  meet,  for  the 
first  time  at  Edinburgh,  his  lifelong  friend,  J.  L.  Toole,  and, 
at  Glasgow,  Charles  Mathews,  who  became  one  of  his  best 
and  staunchest  friends. 

That  these  were  ten  years  of  trial  and  privation,  is  self- 
evident.  Yet  he  never  alluded  to  them  in  a  complaining 
spirit.  When  he  did  recall  them,  it  was  only  with  a  fleeting 
thought,  or,  as  in  the  case  of  the  kindly  act  of  Joseph  Robins, 
with  tenderness.  His  sufferings,  mental  and  physical,  brought 
out  the  sympathetic  side  of  his  nature  and  inclined  him  to  a 

1  Charles  Macklin  played  one  hundred  and  fifty-eight  parts,  David 
Garrick  but  ninety-three, 


78          THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  v. 

"  heart  of  melting  charity  ".  Twenty  years  after  his  hard- won 
probation  in  the  provinces,  he  discoursed  at  the  University  of 
Oxford  on  four  great  actors  of  the  past.  In  speaking  of 
Edmund  Kean,  in  connection  with  the  early  life  of  that  famous 
player,  there  is  no  doubt  that  his  own  experiences  had  helped 
him  to  paint  this  vivid  word-picture  :  "  For  many  years  after 
boyhood,  his  life  was  one  of  continual  hardship.  With  that  un- 
subdued conviction  of  his  own  powers  which  is  often  the  sole 
consolation  of  genius,  he  toiled  on  and  bravely  struggled 
through  the  sordid  miseries  of  a  strolling  player's  life.  The 
road  to  success  lies  through  many  a  thorny  course,  across 
many  a  dreary  stretch  of  desert  land,  over  many  an  obstacle, 
from  which  the  fainting  heart  is  often  tempted  to  turn  back. 
But  hope,  and  the  sense  of  power  within,  which  no  discourage- 
ments can  subdue,  inspire  the  struggling  artist  still  to  continue 
the  conflict,  till  at  last  courage  and  perseverance  meet  with 
their  just  reward,  and  success  comes.  The  only  feeling  then 
to  which  the  triumphant  artist  may  be  tempted  is  one  of  good- 
natured  contempt  for  those  who  are  so  ready  to  applaud  those 
merits  which,  in  the  past,  they  were  too  blind  to  recognise." 
These  words,  spoken  of  Kean  by  Henry  Irving,  were  equally 
true  of  the  latter  actor.  Even  in  1866,  his  fight  was  only 
beginning.  There  were  five  more  years  of  incessant  work 
before  him  ere  London  was  made  aware  of  his  remarkable 
power. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

1866-1867. 

Irving  begins  his  London  career — Stage -manager,  as  well  as  actor,  at 
the  St.  James's — Doricourt — His  success  in  "  The  Belle's  Stratagem  " — The 
friendship  of  Charles  Mathews — Rawdon  Scudamore — Irving's  accuracy  in 
costume — "The  Road  to  Ruin,"  and  other  plays — Joseph  Surface — Robert 
Macaire — Plays  in  Paris  with  Sothern — On  tour  with  Miss  Herbert — 
Liverpool  praises  him — Leaves  the  St.  James's — Engaged  at  the  Queen's 
Theatre,  Long  Acre — His  Petruchio  severely  criticised — Miss  Ellen  Terry's 
reminiscence  of  this  early  meeting. 

WHEN  Henry  Irving  made  his  first  appearance  at  the  St. 
James's  Theatre — his  first  appearance  in  London  that  matters 
—adversity  seemed  to  be  still  his  fate.  For  he  had  antici- 
pated making  this  important  essay  in  the  metropolis,  accord- 
ing to  agreement,  in  a  character  which  he  had  already 
mastered,  that  of  Rawdon  Scudamore.  Moreover,  he  had 
undertaken  the  duties  of  stage-manager,  so  that  his  anxieties 
were  greater  than  those  of  the  ordinary  actor,  who  has  only  to 
play  his  part.  There  were  difficulties  in  the  way  of  producing 
Boucicault's  drama  at  the  opening  of  the  season,  and  it  was 
arranged  that  the  old  comedy,  "The  Belle's  Stratagem," 
should  be  put  up  as  a  stop-gap.  Oddly  enough,  out  of  the 
hundreds  of  parts  which  Irving  had  already  acted,  Doricourt 
had  not  fallen  to  his  lot.  Yet,  on  this  memorable  night  of 
6th  October,  1866,  he  came  out  of  the  trying  ordeal  with  flying 
colours.  Long  afterwards,  in  recalling  the  circumstances,  he 
said :  "  I  was  cast  for  Doricourt,  a  part  which  I  had  never 
played  before,  and  which  I  thought  did  not  suit  me ;  and  I 
felt  that  this  was  the  opinion  of  the  audience  soon  after  the 
play  began.  The  house  appeared  to  be  indifferent,  and  I  be- 
lieved that  failure  was  conclusively  stamped  upon  my  work, 
when  suddenly,  upon  my  exit  after  the  mad  scene,  I  was 

79 


8o         THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  vi. 

startled  by  a  burst  of  applause,  and  so  great  was  the  en- 
thusiasm of  the  audience  that  I  was  compelled  to  re-appear 
upon  the  scene,  a  somewhat  unusual  thing,  except  upon  the 
operatic  stage."  He  had,  in  addition  to  the  applause  of  the 
audience,  the  satisfaction  of  receiving  most  favourable  mention 
in  a  dozen  newspapers,  and  this  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the 
manageress  of  the  theatre,  Miss  Herbert,  naturally  came  in 
for  the  larger  share  of  notice  in  the  character  of  Letitia 
Hardy.  The  majority  of  the  criticisms  gave  him  credit  for 
being  easy  and  gentlemanly.  Another  pointed  out  that  in 
addition  to  these  attributes,  he  was  handsome,  and  that  his 
acting  evinced  such  a  command  over  the  resources  of  his  art, 
such  intelligence  and  innate  power,  as  gave  promise  of  much 
more  than  mere  efficiency  as  a  "jeune  premier,"  rare  as  such 
efficiency  then  was.  Another  paper  thought  that  he  wanted 
the  courtly  air  and  the  dash  of  polished  gallantry  "  which  Mr. 
Charles  Kemble  is  said  to  have  imparted  to  the  character ". 
The  same  journal  went  on  to  remark  that,  in  the  difficult 
scene  in  which  Doricourt  affects  insanity,  the  actor  was  so 
successful  that  he  "  almost  tempted  the  audience  into  the 
genuine  lunacy  of  encoring  his  freak  of  mock  madness  " — a 
statement  so  contrary  to  the  fact  that  not  much  reliance  can 
be  placed  on  the  criticism  in  general.  One  fair  example  of 
the  general  tone  of  the  criticisms  will  suffice  for  all:  "Mr. 
Henry  Irving  is  a  most  valuable  addition  to  the  St.  James's 
company,  and  we  welcome  him  to  London  with  all  sincerity. 
Doricourt's  feigned  mad  scene  was  most  artistically  played, 
and  quite  devoid  of  exaggeration.  Mr.  Irving  was  summoned 
back  to  the  stage  in  the  middle  of  a  scene  to  receive  the  con- 
gratulations of  the  audience."  The  stage-manager  was  less 
fortunate  than  the  actor,  for  he  had  no  opportunity  in  the 
matter  of  scenery.  The  comedy,  it  was  said,  "was  ex- 
ecrably put  on  the  stage.  In  four  or  five  different  scenes, 
intended  to  represent  interiors  of  various  rooms  in  gentlemen's 
houses,  we  had  a  wing  on  which  was  painted  a  rickety  old 
cupboard,  surmounted  by  jam-pots  and  pickle-jars.  On  the 
other  side  was  a  bit  of  a  cottage ;  over  the  jam-pots  hung  a 


1 866]  LONDON  AT  LAST  81 

portrait."  Still,  acting  was  more  important  then  than  scenery. 
During  the  short  run  of  the  comedy,  Irving  was  recalled  each 
night  in  the  middle  of  the  act,  a  compliment  which  was  the 
more  remarkable  since,  as  was  pointed  out  in  print  at  the  time, 
he  was  quite  unconnected  with  the  management  and  had  no 
friends  in  the  front  of  the  house,  beyond  the  public,  to  aid  in 
this  tribute  to  the  efficiency  of  his  playing.1 

Boucicault  altered  the  name  of  his  drama  for  London, 
calling  it  "  Hunted  Down,"  and  making  "The  Two  Lives  of 
Mary  Leigh  "  a  sub-title.  The  villain  of  the  play  is  Rawdon 
Scudamore,  who  hunts  down  the  virtuous  heroine  for  three 
acts,  and  is,  of  course,  duly  punished  in  the  end.  There  was 
not  a  single  note  of  dissension  in  the  recognition  which  was 
given  to  this  performance,  Irving's  ability  and  emotional 
power  more  than  confirming  the  favourable  impression  which 
he  had  made  in  the  preceding  month.  And,  with  another 
twelve  critical  commendations  to  add  to  those  on  his  Doricourt, 
he  began  to  receive  some  reward  for  his  years  of  hard  work. 
Here,  as  in  the  early  days  in  Edinburgh,  his  attention  to  the 
details  of  dress  was  sufficient  to  attract  attention.  "  Of  Mr. 
Irving's  Rawdon  Scudamore,"  wrote  one  of  the  chief  critics, 
"  I  find  difficulty  in  speaking  too  highly.  His  '  make-up '  and 
general  tone  indicate  precisely  the  sort  of  scamp  intended  by 
Mr.  Boucicault.  When  he  is  seedy,  his  seediness  is  not 
indicated  by  preposterous  rags  or  by  new  trousers  with  a  hole 
in  them ;  his  clothes  are  clothes  that  are  well — but  not  too 
well — worn.  In  the  second  act,  which  shows  him  under  more 

1 "  In  my  early  days  Mathews  was  a  true  friend  to  me — yes,  and  in  the 
later  days  too.  I  remember  when  I  first  went  to  the  St.  James's  Theatre, 
I  went  as  stage -manager,  and  there  were  a  lot  of  old  actors  there — 
amongst  them  Frank  Matthews  and  Walter  Lacy.  I  was  a  young  man 
amongst  these  old  stagers.  I  admit  to  feeling  nervous,  and  was  fearful  lest 
I  might  do  something  which  the  older  men  might  resent.  The  first  day 
came.  All  went  very  nicely,  and  we  were  just  commencing  to  rehearse 
'  The  Belle's  Stratagem,'  when  who  should  skip  on  to  the  stage  but  Charles 
Mathews !  Stopping  the  rehearsal  for  the  moment,  he  rushed  up  to  Frank 
Matthews  and  Walter  Lacy.  '  Ah !  Frank,  my  boy — Walter  !  one  moment. 
My  young  friend,  Irving — Frank,  Walter.  Be  kind  to  him.  Good-bye.  God 
bless  you  ! '  And  he  was  gone  ! " 

VOL.  I.  6 


82         THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING    [CHAP.  vi. 

prosperous  circumstances,  his  prosperity  does  not  take  the 
form  of  flashy  coats,  white  hats,  and  patent-leather  boots  ;  he 
is  dressed  just  as  a  '  roue '  of  some  taste  (but  a  '  roue '  never- 
theless) would  dress  himself.  .  .  .  The  cool,  quiet  insolence 
with  which  he  treats  his  devoted  wife — the  insolence  of  a  man 
who  is  certain  of  her  love,  and  wishes  he  was  not — is  the 
finest  piece  of  undemonstrative  acting  that  I  have  witnessed 
since  I  saw  Mr.  Hare  as  Prince  Perovsky."  In  several  other 
quarters,  the  Times  especially,  his  performance  was  noticed 
for  his  very  remarkable  ability  in  depicting,  merely  by  dint  of 
facial  expression,  the  most  malignant  feelings.1 

"  Hunted  Down,"  produced  on  5th  November,  was  suc- 
ceeded, on  Qth  February,  1867,  by  a  revival  of  Holcroft's 
comedy,  "  The  Road  to  Ruin  ".  The  chief  part  fell  to  Walter 
Lacy,  an  older  and  much  esteemed  actor  in  light  comedy, 
Irving  being  cast  for  the  dissipated  hero,  Young  Dornton. 
By  some  papers  he  was  praised  for  his  grace  and  earnestness, 
in  which  he  was  thought  to  resemble  Fechter,  but,  strangely 
enough,  in  his  eagerness  to  bring  out  in  strong  colours  the 
good  points  of  the  repentant  rake,  he  was  thought,  by  another 
writer  "to  miss  the  elegance  and  refinement  of  manner  by 
which  the  part  ought  to  be  distinguished.  There  is  plenty  of 
remorse  and  anguish,  but  no  vestige  of  the  dash  and  brilliancy 
of  the  man  of  fashion."  The  allusion  to  his  success  in  the 
pourtrayal  of  remorse  and  anguish  at  this  stage  of  his  career  is 
interesting.  He  never  was  "a  man  of  fashion".  Holcroft's 
comedy  was  followed,  on  3rd  March,  by  "  A  Rapid  Thaw"- 

l"  Seated  in  a  stage-box  at  the  St.  James's  Theatre  during  the  spring 
of  1866  were  a  gentleman  and  lady  both  distinguished  in -letters,  and  both 
good  judges  of  the  art  of  the  player.  They  were  absorbed  in  the  piece 
performed  on  the  stage ;  this  happened  to  be  '  Hunted  Down,'  notable  for 
Miss  Herbert's  graceful  performance  of  an  ungracious  part ;  on  the  present 
occasion  specially  notable  for  the  appearance  with  her  of  Henry  Irving,  who 
enacted  the  villain  of  the  play.  .  .  .  To  the  enquiry  of  the  lady  in  the  stage- 
box  of  her  companion  '  What  do  you  think  of  him  ?  '  the  answer  came  '  In 
twenty  years  he  will  be  at  the  head  of  the  English  stage '.  Thoughtfully 
murmured  the  lady,  '  He  is  there,  I  think,  already  '.  The  two  interlocutors 
in  the  conversation  now  recalled  were  the  novelist  known  as  George  Eliot 
and  George  Henry  Lewes." — T.  H.  S.  Escott,  in  Personal  Forces  of  the 
Period. 


1 867]  WITH  SOTHERN  IN  PARIS  83 

an  ominous  title! — an  adaptation  by  T.  W.  Robertson,  of 
Sardou's  "  Le  Degel,"  in  which  he  played  a  fortune-hunting 
Irishman,  O' Hooligan.  The  play  failed  and  was  withdrawn 
as  speedily  as  possible.  Revivals  of ' '  The  School  for  Scandal ' ' 
—in  which  Irving  played  Joseph  Surface — and  "  Robert 
Macaire,"  in  which  he  again  acted  the  title  role,  filled  in  the 
time  until  the  production,  on  22nd  April,  of  "  Idalia,  or  the 
Adventurers,"  a  three-act  drama  partly  founded  on  Ouida's 
novel.  Irving  played  a  mysterious  being — who,  in  the  end, 
turns  out  to  be  the  father  of  the  heroine,  a  most  desirable 
lady  whose  "  loveliness  is  such  that  no  man's  heart  is  proof 
against,  and  her  riches  are  almost  as  great  as  her  beauty". 
Count  Falcon  had  an  excellent  dying  scene  in  which  he 
cleared  the  way  for  the  marriage  of  his  daughter,  the  beauteous 
Idalia,  to  a  passionate  young  Englishman,  a  part  in  which 
Charles  Wyndham  made  his  first  appearance  at  the  St.  James's. 
Irving,  it  was  said,  played  Count  Falcon  with  much  care  and 
power,  giving  a  fine  picture  of  a  resolute,  unflinching  man,  in 
whose  nature  so  little  of  good  was  interwoven  ''that  what 
was  best  in  nature  became  almost  bad  in  development  "- 
truly,  a  difficult  character.  Various  performances  were  given 
for  benefits  towards  the  end  of  the  season  in  May.  Irving, 
for  his  own  benefit,  repeated  his  impersonation  of  Rawdon 
Scudamore,  and  acted  Charles  Arundell  in  "  My  Aunt's 
Advice,"  his  friend,  Sothern,  playing  Captain  Leslie.  For 
the  benefit  of  the  manageress,  "  Lady  Audley's  Secret"  was 
produced,  with  Irving  as  Robert  Audley,  and,  in  aid  of  a 
charitable  performance,  he  acted  Charles  Torrens  in  "A 
Serious  Family". 

On  8th  July,  Irving  began  his  one  and  only  engagement 
in  Paris.  Sothern,  then  in  the  very  hey-day  of  his  success, 
appeared  at  the  Theatre  des  Italiens  as  Lord  Dundreary, 
and  among  the  company  supporting  him  were  two  old  friends 
who  had  met  in  Edinburgh,  Edward  Saker,  and  Henry  Irving 
—who  played  the  drunken  lawyer's  clerk,  Abel  Murcott— 
and  the  American  comedian,  John  T.  Raymond.  The 
Parisians  did  not  understand  Lord  Dundreary,  but  this  lack 

6* 


84         THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  vi. 

of  appreciation  did  not  prevent  Sothern  and  his  companions 
from  enjoying  their  visit  to  the  French  capital.  The  change 
of  scene  must  have  been  a  pleasant  one  for  Irving,  although 
it  was  not  exactly  a  holiday.  For,  early  in  August,  he  was 
on  tour  with  Miss  Herbert,  his  repertory  including,  in  addition 
to  Doricourt,  Joseph  Surface,  and  Robert  Audley,  Captain 
Absolute  in  "The  Rivals,".  Young  Marlow  in  "She  Stoops 
to  Conquer,"  and  Young  Wilding  in  Charles  Mathew's  re- 
duced version  of  Foote's  comedy,  "The  Liar".  In  such 
critical  theatrical  centres  as  Manchester,  Dublin,  Bristol,  and 
Bath,  his  efforts  were  received  with  every  appreciation.  The 
praise  bestowed  upon  him  in  Manchester  must  have  been 
particularly  gratifying  to  him.  The  Courier  eulogised  his 
Joseph  Surface  as  a  conception  of  a  high  and  uniform  type, 
which  "well  deserved  the  call  which  it  obtained  at  the  fall  of 
the  curtain.  His  polished  and  courteous  manner,  veiling  the 
intense  and  heartless  selfishness  which  peeps  out  from  time  to 
time,  is  admirably  sustained  ;  nor  is  the  accidental  failure  of 
temper  in  the  last  scene  less  artistic  or  less  carefully  studied". 
And  to  be  favourably  noticed  by  the  Irish  Times  must  have 
been  some  small  consolation  for  the  hisses  and  jeers  of  the 
Dublin  "boys"  of  1860. 

At  the  end  of  September,  immediately  following  the  tour 
with  Miss  Herbert,  he  played  a  special  engagement  in  Liver- 
pool which  gave  him  further  encouragement  and  strengthened 
him  for  a  disappointment  which  he  met  with  on  his  return  to 
London  in  October.  The  "inauguration  of  the  regular 
comedy  and  burlesque  season"  at  the  Prince  of  Wales's 
Theatre  was  marked  by  the  performance  of  Craven's  comedy- 
drama,  "  Meg's  Diversion,"  with  Miss  Milly  Palmer  as  the 
heroine,  and  Burnand's  burlesque,  "  Helen,  or  Taken  from 
the  Greek".  The  former  play  was  not  new  to  Liverpool, 
but  it  was  given  much  notice  in  the  local  press.  The  philo- 
sophical baronet,  Ashley  Merton,  was  warmly  praised,  and 
what  is  more  remarkable  still,  the  Daily  Post  ventured  on  a 
statement  and  a  prophecy  which  must  have  given  consider- 
able gratification  to  the  writer,  whoever  he  was,  if  he  lived 


1 867]  LIVERPOOL'S  PROPHECY  85 

until  the  end  of  1871.  "  Mr.  Irving's  representation,"  said 
this  critic,  "was  a  strong  confirmation  of  our  opinion  that  he 
is  one  of  the  few  great  actors  on  the  stage.  Not  that  his 
performance  had  any  greatness  in  it,  but  for  the  reason  that 
he  succeeded  in  making  it  as  remarkable  an  assumption  as 
the  limited  area  created  by  the  dramatist  would  allow.  He 
seemed  superior  to  his  part,  and  it  would  be  difficult  to  drive 
away  the  impression  that  there  is  any  role  superior  to  him.  j 
His  rendering  was  the  only  one  that  gave  us  unalloyed  satis-j 
faction."  These  discerning  and  prophetic  words  must  have 
been  a  tremendous  help  at  this  important  part  of  his  career 
to  the  ambitious  actor.  There  is  no  wonder  that  he  always 
thought  with  kindness  and  gratitude  of  Liverpool  and  its 
people. 

After  this  brief,  but,  in  his  case,  successful  tour,  in  the 
artistic  sense,  at  least,  he  returned  to  the  St.  James's  Theatre 
under  engagement  to  the  American  actor,  John  Sleeper 
Clarke,  who,  on  i6th  October,  made  his  first  appearance  in 
London  as  Major  Wellington  de  Boots  in  "The  Widow 
Hunt,"  a  slightly  altered  version  of  a  comedy  entitled  "  Every- 
body's Friend,"  in  which  the  Major  had  originally  been  acted 
by  J.  B.  Buckstone.  The  light  comedy  part  of  Felix 
Featherley  was  not  an  advance  for  the  actor  whose  merits 
as  Rawdon  Scudamore  had  won  him  such  an  excellent  repu- 
tation in  London  as  a  character  actor,  nor  was  the  excitable 
dunderhead,  Ferment,  in  "The  School  of  Reform" — in  which 
Clarke  played  Tyke — -of  service  to  him.  Moreover,  as  stage- 
manager  during  the  previous  season  at  the  St.  James's,  he 
had  received  additional  remuneration  beyond  his  salary  as  an 
actor.  As  this  was  now  refused  to  him — although  he  had 
returned  to  the  St.  James's  on  the  understanding  that  he  was 
to  receive  the  same  terms  as  before — he  left  that  theatre. 

While  he  was  performing  at  the  St.  James's  Theatre,  a 
new  play-house  was  opened  in  Long  Acre.  This  was  called 
the  Queen's.  It  stood  on  the  site,  and  within  the  walls,  of 
St.  Martin's  Hall,  the  scene  of  the  first  reading  in  London 
by  Charles  Dickens.  "The  Double  Marriage,"  a  five-act 


86          THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  vi. 

drama,  by  Charles  Reade,  was  the  chief  attraction  on  the 
opening  night,  on  24th  October,  1867.  This  was  followed, 
in  November,  by  a  revival  of  "  Still  Waters  Run  Deep,"  which 
held  the  bill  until  Christmas  week.  Then  came,  on  26th 
December,  "  Katherine  and  Petruchio,"  in  wrhich  Henry 
Irving  and  Miss  Ellen  Terry  met  for  the  first  time  on  any 
stage.  For  Irving  had  been  engaged  at  the  Queen's  Theatre 
by  Alfred  Wigan,  who  was  announced  as  lessee  and  manager 
of  the  new  house.  The  company  included,  in  addition  to 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Alfred  Wigan,  John  Ryder,  John  Clayton, 
Mr.  Lionel  Brough,  Mr.  Charles  Wyndham,  Miss  Carlotta 
Addison,  Miss  Henrietta  Hodson  (now  Mrs.  Henry  Labou- 
chere),  and  Miss  Ellen  Terry.  The  position  of  the  latter 
lady  may  be  gathered  from  the  fact  that  her  salary  was  £  1 5 
a  week,  while  Irving's  was  little  more  than  half  that  sum — £&. 
Even  Wyndham,  a  beginner,  received  £12.  "  Katherine 
and  Petruchio" — Garrick's  ruthless  condensation  of  "The 
Taming  of  the  Shrew  " — was  a  comparatively  minor  item  of 
the  programme.  For  the  great  feature  of  the  season  was  the 
popular — and  he  was  then  extremely  popular — comedian, 
J.  L.  Toole.  He  followed  the  opening  piece  of  the  evening 
in  "  Doing  for  the  Best  "  and  "The  Birthplace  of  Podgers". 
It  is  more  than  probable  that  he  had  been  instrumental  in 
getting  Irving  engaged  at  the  Queen's,  as  he  was  a  power 
with  the  management,  as  may  be  imagined  from  his  salary, 
which  was  the  highest  of  all — £32  IDS.  a  week.  Be  this  as 
it  may,  the  Petruchio  of  the  moment  received  a  severe  casti- 
gation  from  the  Times — the  only  criticism  which  was  kept 
by  Henry  Irving's  father.  "  Mr.  H.  Irving  who  made  his 
London  debut  at  the  St.  James's  about  a  twelvemonth  since," 
it  said,  "is  a  very  valuable  actor,  and  the  manager  of  the 
new  Queen's  has  shown  great  judgment  in  securing  his 
services.  His  representation  of  the  gamester  in  Mr.  Bouci- 
cault's  'Hunted  Down' — an  excellent  piece,  never  appreci- 
ated according  to  its  deserts — and  the  drunkenness  of  despair 
proper  to  Henry  Dornton  in  the  latter  portion  of  'The  Road 
to  Ruin,'  were,  in  their  way,  perfect;  but  Petruchio  is  just 


1 868] 


PLAYS  WITH  ELLEN  TERRY 


one  of  those  parts  which  he  cannot  hit.  Those  who  are  old 
enough  to  recollect  the  late  Mr.  Charles  Kemble's  Petruchio 
will  easily  bring  to  mind  the  gentlemanlike  rollick  with  which 
he  carried  off  the  extravagancies  of  the  shrew  tamer,  showing 
that  at  bottom  he  was  a  man  of  high  breeding,  though  for  the 
nonce  he  found  it  expedient  to  behave  like  a  ruffian.  No 
impression  of  this  kind  is  left  by  Mr.  H.  Irving.  His  early 
scenes  are  feeble,  and  when  he  has  brought  home  his  bride 
he  suggests  the  notion  rather  of  a  brigand  chief  who  has 
secured  a  female  captive  than  of  an  honest  gentleman  en- 
gaged in  a  task  of  moral  reform.  Moreover,  before  he  takes 
his  position  as  a  speaker  of  blank  verse,  certain  defects  of 
articulation  require  emendation."  This  was  certainly  severe, 
but  it  was  holiday  time,  and  the  farce  was  only  the  first  of 
the  three  pieces  on  the  programme. 

Soon  after  her  performance  of  Katherine,  Miss  Ellen 
Terry  retired  into  private  life,  and  she  was  not  seen  again  in 
public  until  early  in  1874.  Her  next  meeting  with  Henry 
Irving  was  at  the  end  of  1878 — eleven  years  after  she  was  the 
Katherine  to  his  Petruchio.  In  the  meantime,  as  so  much 
ridiculous  nonsense  has  been  written  about  this  chance  ac- 
quaintance in  1867,  it  is  important — for  the  accuracy  of  stage 
history — that  it  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  in  the  interim 
since  their  playing  at  the  Queen's,  Henry  Irving  had  attained 
his  great  position  as  the  recognised  head  of  the  English  stage. 
The  details  will  be  dealt  with  in  their  proper  place,  but  it 
should  be  set  down  here  that,  after  losing  sight  of  Miss  Terry 
at  the  commencement  of  1868,  and  before  he  saw  her  again 
nearly  eleven  years  later,  Henry  Irving  had  acted  Mathias  in 
"  The  Bells,"  Charles  the  First,  Eugene  Aram,  Richelieu, 
Hamlet,  Macbeth,  Othello,  Richard  the  Third,  Lesurques 
and  Dubosc,  and  Louis  XI.  Several  of  these  characters— 
Mathias,  Charles  the  First,  Lesurques  and  Dubosc,  and 
Louis  XI. — he  acted.continually  until  his  death.  Miss  Terry's 
own  evidence  in  regard  to  her  early  association  with  Henry 
Irving  is  rather  interesting.  In  her  "  Stray  Memories,"  she 
says:  "  From  the  first  I  noticed  that  Mr.  Irving  worked 


88         THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  vi. 

more  concentratedly  than  all  the  other  actors  put  together, 
and  the  most  important  lesson  of  my  working  life  I  learnt 
from  him,  that  to  do  one's  work  well,  one  must  work  con- 
tinually, live  a  life  of  constant  self-denial  for  that  purpose,  and 
in  short,  keep  one's  nose  upon  the  grind-stone.  It  is  a 
lesson  one  had  better  learn  early  in  stage  life,  I  think,  for  the 
bright,  glorious,  healthy  career  of  a  successful  actor  is  but 
brief  at  the  best.  There  is  an  old  story  told  of  Mr.  Irving 
being  '  struck  with  my  talent  at  this  time,  and  promising  that 
if  he  ever  had  a  theatre  of  his  own  he'd  give  me  an  engage- 
ment !  '  But  that  is  all  moonshine.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
I'm  sure  he  never  thought  of  me  at  all  at  that  time.  I  was 
just  then  acting  very  badly,  and  feeling  ill,  caring  scarcely  at 
all  for  my  work,  or  a  theatre,  or  anybody  belonging  to  a 
theatre." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

1868-1871. 

Irving  recognised  as  an  impersonator  of  villains — His  Bob  Gassitt, 
Bill  Sikes,  and  Robert  Redburn — Dickens  prophecies  that  he  will  become 
"a  great  actor" — Plays  the  hero  for  a  change — Various  characters — On 
tour  with  Toole — An  unsuccessful  engagement  at  the  Haymarket — His 
marriage — Acts  in  "Formosa"  at  Drury  Lane — Gives  a  recital  at  Bays- 
water — Mr.  Chevenix  at  the  Gaiety — More  praise  from  Dickens — Digby 
Grant,  in  "  Two  Roses  " — A  great  success  in  London  and  the  provinces — 
Recognised  as  an  actor  who  could  create — Recites  "  The  Dream  of  Eugene 
Aram  " — And  makes  a  wonderful  impression. 

IRVING  remained  at  the  Queen's  Theatre  for  over  a  year,  and 
during  that  time  he  played  three  parts  which  did  much  to 
enhance  his  reputation.  The  first  of  these  was  Bob  Gassitt 
in  "  Dearer  than  Life,"  the  second  Bill  Sikes,  the  third 
Robert  Redburn  in  "  The  Lancashire  Lass" — a  trio  of  villains 
of  different  types.  "  Dearer  than  Life,"  a  three-act  drama  by 
Henry  J.  Byron,  was  written  for  J.  L.  Toole,  and,  though 
not  avowedly  indebted  to  "The  Porter's  Knot,"  in  which 
Frederick  Robson  was  celebrated,  it  was  very  like  that  play, 
the  truth  being  that  both  pieces  were  more  or  less  founded  on 
experiences  in  real  life.  Toole,  who  was  chiefly  known  as  the 
interpreter  of  outrageous  farce  at  the  Adelphi,  was  provided 
with  a  character  in  which  he  showed  his  wonderful  command 
of  pathos.  His  Michael  Garner  was  a  most  admirable 
performance.  It  is  unnecessary  to  go  into  the  details  of  the 
plot,  but  it  may  be  stated  that  the  affectionate,  self-sacrificing 
father,  Michael  Garner,  had  an  only  son,  Charlie — represented 
by  Mr.  Wyndham — who  was  lured  into  evil  paths  by  Bob 
Gassitt,  a  vulgar,  dissipated  scoundrel — a  flash,  uneducated 
loafer.  One  notice  of  Irving's  impersonation  of  this  scamp 

was  rather  curious.      It  praised  him  for  making  "  a  finished 

89 


90        THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  vn. 

sketch,"  yet  objected  to  "his  hair  as  improbably  long,  and 
the  gilt  buttons  on  his  coat — for  the  waistcoat  they  are  well 
enough — are  improbably  outrageous  ;  but  the  portraiture  of  the 
Champagne  Charlie  swell,  is  as  striking  as  it  is  new,  and  Mr. 
Irving  adds  as  finishing  touches  some  of  those  traces  of 
amorous  passion  in  the  midst  of  villainy,  for  which  he  has  an 
especial  gift."  In  another  paper,  the  staid  Globe,  the  repre- 
sentative of  Bob  Gassitt  was  very  strongly  recommended  to 
indulge  in  gagging.  "  Mr.  H.  Irving,"  said  this  mentor,  "has 
a  capital  part,  makes-up  effectively,  and  plays  with  admirable 
tact  and  judgment.  As  a  piece  of  stage  portraiture,  not 
overdrawn  or  varied  from  fact,  the  character  is  equal  to  any- 
thing at  present  on  the  boards  of  the  metropolis.  The  only 
point  to  which  we  should  like  to  call  the  actor's  attention  is 
the  pronunciation.  Gassitt  is  rightly  supposed  to  be  illiterate, 
but  in  some  of  the  scenes  Mr.  Irving  makes  him  more  so  than 
in  others.  The  habit  of  slang  is  not  sufficiently  characterised 
as  distinct  from  the  ignorance  evinced  in  the  manner  of 
speech.  We  suspect  there  is  something  wrrong  with  the 
words,  and  the  actor  would  do  well  to  examine  them  with 
this  view.  'Gagging,'  is  a  bad  habit,  but  it  would  be  better 
to  adopt  it  than  spoil  the  part.  However,  the  author  is  at 
hand,  and  could  surely  be  induced  to  make  some  emendations. 
We  notice  this  matter  at  length  because  Bob  Gassitt  is  quite 
as  good  and  as  important  in  its  way  as  was  the  character  in 
which  Mr.  Bancroft  kept  *  Caste '  running  at  the  Prince  of 
Wales'  so  long."  The  Bancrofts,  by  the  way,  had  made 
their  little  house  off  the  Tottenham  Court  Road — it  was  so 
small  that  the  stage  of  the  present  Scala  Theatre  almost 
covers  the  entire  site — a  home  of  domestic  comedy,  the  chief 
apostle  of  which  was  T.  W.  Robertson,  the  author  of  "  School," 
"  Caste,"  "Ours,"  and  kindred  plays.  It  was  considered  a 
great  compliment  to  Irving  to  compare  him  with  the  artists 
of  this  theatre — and  to  compare  him  favourably.  "  Mr.  Irving, 
like  Mr.  Mathews,  Mr.  Sothern,  and  other  eminent  artists, 
studies,  and  studies  successfully,  in  this  school  of  nature ;  his 
types  are  drawn  from  human  nature — not  stage-nature,  as  too 


1 868]  BILL  SIKES  91 

many  actors'  notions  of  a  part  appear  to  be ;  and  his  im- 
personations, therefore,  are  truthful  and  eminently  satisfactory. 
Not  only  in  rendering  the  words  and  the  general  'business,'  as 
it  is  called,  is  he  admirable,  but  he  shows  the  true  perceptions 
of  an  artist  in  his  knowledge  of  bye-play.  For  instance,  as 
Bob  Gassitt,  in  his  scene  with  Lucy  in  the  last  act,  his  posi- 
tion before  the  fire  is  capital ;  more  noticeable  still  is  the 
tarrying  at  the  window  to  make  up  his  mind  before  breaking 
to  her  the  cruel  falsehood  he  has  prepared."  The  criticisms 
on  Bob  Gassitt  were  the  longest  which  he  had  received 
since  coming  to  London.  They  were  also  very  favourable, 
and  they  are  the  more  noteworthy  from  the  presence  in  the 
play  of  an  established  favourite.  They  point,  indeed,  to  the 
fact  that  Irving  was  at  last  beginning  to  make  himself  felt. 
"Dearer  than  Life,"  brought  out  on  8th  January,  1868,  ran 
for  three  months. 

His  Bill  Sikes  was  another  step  in  his  favour.  There 
was  some  little  excitement  prior  to  the  production — on  Satur- 
day, the  nth  April — of  John  Oxenford's  dramatisation  of 
"  Oliver  Twist".  For  there  were  rumours  that  a  license  had 
been  refused  by  the  Lord  Chamberlain.  The  Morning  Post, 
somewhat  unkindly,  thought  it  a  pity  that  "  Oliver  Twist"  had 
been  allowed  to  seethe  footlights.  "It  has  only  been  revived 
to  be  buried  once  more,  for  there  seems  little  doubt  that  the 
unfavourable  verdict  of  last  Saturday  night's  audience  will  be 
generally  approved  by  the  majority  of  the  public  " — a  verdict 
that  was  stultified  by  future  events,  for  Toole  was  seen  in  a 
modified  version  of  the  piece  for  many  years.  His  "  Artful 
Dodger,"  however,  was  not  accounted  a  success  at  first. 
"  Many  an  admirable  actor  has  made  a  mistake  before  now, 
and  though  Mr.  Toole  has  in  this  instance  made  a  mistake, 
he  is  nevertheless  an  admirable  actor.  Mr.  Irving's  *  Bill 
Sikes,'  on  the  other  hand,"  continued  the  Morning  Post, 
"was  really  artistic  and  good.  His  make-up — closely  and 
accurately  copied  from  George  Cruikshank — was  admirable, 
and,  except  when  he  awkwardly  paced  the  stage  after  Fagin's 
denunciation  of  Nancy,  he  played  the  character  remarkably 


92        THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  vn. 

well — almost  as  well,  indeed,  as  he  looked  it,  and  that  is  great 
praise." 

Another  morning  paper  denounced  "Oliver  Twist"  in 
good  set  terms.  It  doubted  "  whether  it  was  wise  to  secure 
this  dramatic  novelty,  curious  and  comic  as  it  is,  at  the  risk  of 
disgusting  the  public  by  a  broad  delineation  of  the  Sikes 
department  of  the  story.  These  awakened  unqualified  dis- 
approval, though  the  Sikes  of  Mr.  Irving  was  in  its  very 
brutishness  a  fine  intellectual  study,  and  Miss  Nelly  Moore,  as 
Nancy,  carried  the  sympathies  of  the  audience  as  thoroughly 
as  Mr.  Dickens  himself  could  have  desired."  Poor  Toole  and 
some  provincial  audiences  came  in  for  very  severe  treat- 
ment :  "  Even  Mr.  Toole's  slangy  gaieties  as  the  Dodger 
seemed  to  surfeit  very  rapidly,  and  points  of  exceeding  clever- 
ness, which  great  audiences  in  Birmingham,  Edinburgh, 
Liverpool,  Glasgow,  and  Belfast  are  well-known  to  find  end- 
lessly and  uproariously  amusing,  were  scanned  with  a  suspi- 
cious and  critical  air  by  no  means  likely  to  keep  up  the  spirits 
of  such  a  favourite  as  Mr.  Toole,  to  whom  anything  but  the 
most  balmy  public  favour  is  an  absolutely  new  experience". 
Thus  spake  the  Morning  Star.  But  it  had  much  to  say 
in  praise  of  Bill  Sikes  and  Nancy,  as  interpreted  by  Henry 
Irving  and  Miss  Nelly  Moore.  Nancy  <(has  always,  in  spite 
of  her  cotton  gown,  and  cheap  shawl,  her  curl  papers,  and 
her  street-door  key,  been  a  real  favourite  with  the  readers  of 
the  story,  and  Miss  Moore  equally  retains  the  sympathies  of 
those  who  see  the  play.  Her  acting  is  full  of  gentleness,  and 
yet  full  offeree — abounding  in  pathos,  and  ready,  when  need 
is,  to  brighten  into  humour.  As  for  Mr.  Irving,  he  seems  to 
have  solved  what  seemed  a  difficulty  even  to  Mr.  Dickens 
himself,  who,  in  asserting  that  *  there  are  such  men  as  Sikes, 
who  being  followed  through  the  space  of  time  and  through 
the  same  current  of  circumstances,  would  not  give  by  the 
action  of  a  moment  the  faintest  indication  of  a  better  nature,' 
was  in  doubt  '  whether  every  gentler  human  feeling  is  dead 
within  such  bosoms,  or  the  proper  cord  has  rusted  and  is  hard 
to  find'.  In  the  grim  brutality  of  Sikes's  face,  as  realised  by 


: 


868]  YET  ANOTHER  VILLAIN  93 


Mr.  Irving,  there  lives  a  rooted  bitterness  of  loathing  for 
himself,  his  life,  his  luck,  his  surroundings,  which  suggests 
another  and  not  less  pregnant  explanation  of  the  character, 
for  where  remorse  is  truly  hopeless  the  last  light  of  good  in 
a  man  may  well  have  become  extinct.  It  is  in  the  constant 
angry  brooding  of  the  villain  that  Mr.  Irving  profoundly  ex- 
hibits to  us  a  probable  source  of  all  his  callous  and  unmiti- 
gated ruffianism." 

Irving's  third  villain  at  the  Queen's  did  not  give  him  as 
much  scope  as  either  of  its  predecessors.  But,  as  "The 
Lancashire  Lass  "  had  a  run  of  six  months,  it  was  useful  in 
keeping  him  before  the  public  for  a  long  time,  in  a  character 
which  he  acted  admirably.  The  drama  was,  like  "Dearer 
than  Life,"  the  work  of  Henry  J.  Byron,  and  it  had  had  a 
preliminary  trial  in  Liverpool  during  the  previous  autumn. 
It  was  produced  in  London  on  the  24th  July,  and  Irving 
acted  Robert  Redburn,  an  adventurer  of  most  conventional 
pattern — a  cigar -smoking  scamp,  "  whose  rascality  is  associ- 
ated with  the  utmost  degree  of  cool  audacity,  and  whose 
heartlessness  is  displayed  by  a  simultaneous  knitting  of  the 
brows  and  caress  of  the  moustache ".  Both  the  Times  and 
the  Daily  Telegraph  praised  the  performance,  and  the  Morning 
Star  analysed  it  at  great  length.  It  thought  Irving  "a  very 
Disraeli  of  the  genus"  adventurer.  He  "dressed  with  great 
care  and  modest  variety — made-up  as  to  the  head,  in  dealing 
with  which  most  of  our  actors  are  exceedingly  clumsy,  with 
most  suggestive,  yet  most  natural  significance — ingenious  in 
those  little  actions  which,  while  intrinsically  unmeaning,  reveal 
character  and  relieve  the  stress  on  an  audience's  attention, 
this  admirable  actor  of  polished  villains  is  a  most  unbounded 
success.  Neither  he  nor  his  audience  were  for  a  moment 
ill  at  ease.  His  repose  was  perfect  without  languor,  his  strong 
passages  emphatic  without  effort ;  that  he  was  capable  of  real 
feeling  was  proved  by  the  volumes  of  emotion  revealed  in  the 
voice  with  which,  during  Clayton's  imprisonment,  Redburn 
urged  his  mad  suit  to  Ruth ;  that  he  was  incapable  of  weak- 
ness or  soft-heartedness  was  evident  from  the  aspect  of  the 


94        THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAR  vn. 

man  as  he  listened  to  the  description  of  his  own  character  by 
his  would-be  accomplice,  '  the  party  by  the  name  of  Johnson '." 
The  latter  character  was  impersonated  by  Sam  Emery,  other 
parts  being  taken  by  Mr.  Lionel  Brough,  Mr.  Wyndham, 
Miss  Henrietta  Hodson,  and  Miss  Nelly  Moore.  Unfor- 
tunately, there  is  no  record  of  Irving's  Bill  Sikes  having 
been  witnessed  by  Charles  Dickens.  But  the  author  did 
see  him  as  Robert  Redburn,  and  in  discussing  "  The  Lanca- 
shire Lass,"  on  his  return  from  the  drama,  said  :  "  But  there 
was  a  young  fellow  in  the  play  who  sits  at  the  table  and  is 
bullied  by  Sam  Emery ;  his  name  is  Henry  Irving,  and  if 
that  young  man  does  not  one  day  come  out  as  a  great  actor, 
I  know  nothing  of  art  ". 

The  impersonations  of  these  three  typical  scoundrels  were 
Irving's  most  marked  successes  at  the  Queen's  Theatre.  But 
he  acted  several  other  parts  there.  On  ist  June,  1868,  he 
played  Charles  Surface  on  the  occasion  of  his  benefit,  the 
cast  including  Alfred  Wigan  as  Joseph  Surface,  Mr.  Lionel 
Brough  as  Crabtree,  Toole  as  Moses,  Miss  Nelly  Moore  as 
Lady  Teazle,  Miss  Henrietta  Hodson  as  Lady  Sneerwell, 
and  Mrs.  Wigan  as  Mrs.  Candour.  Four  days  later,  at  an 
afternoon  performance,  at  the  Hay  market  Theatre,  in  aid  of 
the  funds  of  the  now  defunct  Royal  Dramatic  College,  he  ap- 
peared as  Cool  in  "  London  Assurance".  It  was  the  season 
of  benefits  for,  on  8th  July,  Alfred  Wigan  took  his,  at  the 
Queen's  Theatre,  with  "The  Rivals" — in  which  Irving  acted 
Faulkland — -as  the  chief  attraction.  The  next  production  after 
"  The  Lancashire  Lass"  took  place  on  I3th  February,  1869. 
It  was  a  four-act  play,  by  Watts  Phillips,  called  "  Not  Guilty  ". 
There  were  villains  galore  in  this  piece,  and,  although  one  of 
them,  a  scoundrel  who  bore  a  facial  resemblance  to  "an 
officer  and  a  gentleman,"  might  have  suited  Henry  Irving, 
he  elected  to  appear  as  the  typical,  long-suffering,  virtuous 
hero,  Robert  Arnold,  who,  after  many  adventures  by  flood 
and  field,  was  eventually  proclaimed  "  not  guilty  "  of  a  crime 
which  he  had  not  committed,  and  for  which  he  had  been  sent 
to  penal  servitude.  The  drama,  even  for  the  unsophisticated 


1 869]  A  HERO  IN  MELODRAMA  95 

play -goer  of  forty  years  ago,  was  a  little  too  transparent.  The 
story  is  far  too  long  to  be  quoted  in  full.  The  final  scene  is 
a  fair  example  of  the  entire  piece.  The  persecuted  heroine 
has  just  departed  when  "the  false  Sir  Ormond  and  Arnold 
enter,  the  former  cynical  and  self-possessed,  the  latter  full  of 
indignant  passion.  At  last,  goaded  by  the  sneering  insolence 
of  his  rival,  Arnold  raises  his  hand,  a  short  struggle  ensues, 
interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  St.  Clair,  Alice,  guests,  and 
others,  from  the  neighbouring  croquet  lawn,  and  then  the 
false  Sir  Ormond  proclaims  Robert  Arnold  unfit,  as  a  convict 
who  had  escaped,  ten  years  ago,  from  Dartmoor,  for  the 
society  of  ladies  and  gentlemen.  'But  he  was  not  guilty,'  is 
St.  Glair's  indignant  exclamation!  'The  real  robber  was 
Silas  Jarrett ! '  cries  a  voice  behind  the  false  Sir  Ormond, 
whose  sleeve  is,  at  the  same  time,  ripped  up  to  the  elbow  by 
Jack  Snipe,  who,  with  the  two  rascals,  Vidler  and  the  Pole- 
cat, has  crept  down  the  stage  unperceived.  '  Read  for  your- 
selves,' he  cries,  pointing  to  the  arm,  which  is  tattooed  with 
the  words  '  Silas  Jarrett,  traitor ! ' '  This  old-fashioned  stuff 
was  too  much  even  for  the  innocent  theatre-goer  of  1869. 
A  month  later,  the  chief  actors  took  their  benefits  at  the  Queen's 
and  their  departure  therefrom.  On  i5th  March,  "  She  Stoops 
to  Conquer  "  was  given  by  Mr.  Lionel  Brough  for  his  benefit, 
Irving  being  the  Young  Marlow.  On  the  i9th,  for  his  own 
benefit,  he  appeared  as  Henri  de  Neuville  in  "  Plot  and 
Passion,"  supported  by  Mrs.  Hermann  Vezin  as  Marie  de 
Fontanges,  Toole  as  Desmarets,  Mr.  Brough  as  Grisboulle, 
and  Sam  Emery  as  Fouche".  During  this  month  he  also 
played,  at  Drury  Lane,  Brown  in  "  The  Spitalfields  Weavers," 
for  a  charity  performance,  and,  at  the  Queen's,  he  acted  Victor 
Dubois  in  "  Ici  On  Parle  Fran^ais"  and  John  Peerybingle  in 
"Caleb  Plummer".  In  the  three  latter  plays  he  was,  of 
course,  associated  with  his  old  friend,  Toole. 

On  leaving  the  Queen's,  he  accompanied  the  popular 
comedian  on  a  tour  of  the  provinces  and  some  of  the  theatres 
in  the  London  district  including  the  Standard  and  the  Surrey. 
In  regard  to  the  latter  house,  Toole  refused  to  book  the  en- 


96        THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  VIL 

gagement  at  first  on  account  of  the  manager  declining  to  pay 
Irving's  salary.  Toole  stuck  to  his  friend,  and  the  salary  was 
paid.  His  characters  during  this  tour  were  varied :  Bob 
Gassitt,  in  "  Dearer  than  Life ;"  Bill  Sikes  ;  Brown,  in  "  The 
Spitalfields  Weavers;"  Victor  Dubois,  in  "  Ici  on  parle 
Fran9ais;"  and  Peerybingle,  in  Boucicault's  version,  then 
called  "Caleb  Plummer,"  of  "The  Cricket  on  the  Hearth". 
It  is  strange  to  think  of  Irving  as  honest  John  Peerybingle, 
especially  after  his  late  round  of  villains,  but  he  was  praised 
in  several  papers  for  his  manly,  tender  impersonation.  He 
also  recited  Bell's  poem,  "  The  Uncle,"  an  honour  which,  it 
will  be  recalled,  had  been  denied  to  him  in  his  boyhood  by 
the  worthy  Mr.  Pinches.  On  returning  to  London,  he  ap- 
peared, at  the  Haymarket  Theatre,  in  the  production,  on  I2th 
July,  of  "All  for  Money".  The  regular  company  was 
away  on  tour,  the  season  was  only  a  supplementary  one,  and 
the  comedy  had  a  brief  life.  But,  to  the  few  people  who 
saw  it,  it  served  to  increase  the  good  opinion  which  had  been 
formed  of  the  acting  of  Henry  Irving  at  the  St.  James's  and 
Queen's  theatres.  He  played  Captain  Fitzhubert,  an  im- 
pecunious gambler,  who  marries  for  money.  "When  it  is 
stated  that  Mr.  Henry  Irving  plays  the  part,"  said  the 
Times,  "it  will  be  readily  believed  that  a  thoroughly  artistic 
personation  is  the  result."  He  was  dubbed  "  the  very  king 
of  fashionable  villains"  by  one  organ,  while  another  pro- 
nounced him  "absolutely  without  a  rival"  in  this  class  of 
character. 

And  thereby  hangs  a  tale.  "  All  for  Money  "  was  well  re- 
membered by  Irving,  for  two  special  reasons.  In  January, 
1903,  an  actress  who  was  well-known  in  her  day,  Miss  Roma 
Guillon  Le  Thiere,  died,  and  one  of  our  morning  papers 
fell  into  the  mistake,  in  its  obituary,  of  attributing,  not  only 
the  authorship  of  "All  for  Money"  to  the  deceased  actress, 
but  the  responsibility  of  putting  it  on  the  stage.  "  In  July, 
1869,"  it  stated,  "she  produced  at  the  Haymarket  a  comedy 
written  by  herself  entitled  *  All  for  Money '.  The  cast  included 
Miss  Amy  Sedgwick,  Sir  Henry  Irving,  and  Mrs.  Stephens." 


1869] 


HIS  MARRIAGE 


97 


The  paper  was  hardly  damp  from  the  press  ere  the  actor  sent 
me  a  note  in  which  he  corrected  the  statement.  He  underlined 
the  word  " produced"  in  the  paragraph  and  wrote  under  it: 
"  No  she  did  not,  she  wrote  a  comedy — Miss  Amy  Sedgwick 
produced  it  and  forgot  to  pay  actors  salaries  for  the  last  week 
— /  was  one  of  'em  " 


~~«U<M  Mfgeo  Cenietorj  tomorrow 
at  balf-jwst  eleYan  o'clock.  Miss  Rorau  Guillon 
Le  Thiera  made  her  first  appearance  oa  the  London 
stage  in  1865  at  the  New  Pwoyalty  Theatre  in 
the  character  of  Emilia  in  "Othello."  Subsequent lj 
she  played  at  the  St.  Jamas' s,  the  Lyceum,  the  Prince  of 
Wales',  and  Drury  Lice.  In  July.  1869,  she 
uced  at  the  Haymarkefc  a  comedy  written  *Ey" 


herself  entitled  "AJ1  for  Money."    The  cast  included  MUa 
Amy  Sejilg wick,  Sir  Henry  Irvins:,  and  Mrs.  Stephens. 


I     - 


;> 


VA. 

i 
s 


VOL.  I. 


98         THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  VIL 

There  was  a  very  special  reason  for  the  circumstance  in 
question  being  vividly  impressed  on  his  recollection.  For 
financial  worry  is  out  of  place  at  all  times  in  the  life  of  an 
artist,  but  more  especially  during  the  honeymoon.  And, 
within  three  days  of  the  production  of  "AD  for  Money," 
Henry  Irving  had  married  a  young  and  pretty  Irish  girl,  tall 
and  fair-haired,  Miss  Florence  O'Callaghan,  the  daughter  of 
Surgeon-General  O'Callaghan,  a  man  for  whom  he  had  great 
friendship  and  admiration.  The  ceremony  took  place  on 
1 5th  July,  1869,  at  the  parish  church  of  St.  Marylebone ; 
the  wedding  reception  being  held  at  the  house  of  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Frank  Matthews,  Linden  Grove,  Bayswater.  The 
father  of  the  bride  was  a  distinguished  man — Daniel  James 
O'Callaghan,  whose  eldest  brother,  John  Cornelius,  was  one 
of  the  celebrated  literary  men  of  Ireland  of  the  last  century 
—the  author  of  "The  Green  Book,  or  Gleanings  from  the 
Desk  of  a  Literary  Agitator  ".  His  father,  John  O'Callaghan, 
was  one  of  the  first  Catholics  admitted  to  the  profession  of 
attorney  in  Ireland  after  the  partial  relaxation  of  the  penal 
laws  in  1793.  He  acquired  considerable  wealth.  Daniel, 
his  youngest  son,  was  born  in  Merrion  Square,  Dublin,  and 
was  educated  at  the  Jesuit  College  of  Chongowes  Wood, 
County  Kildare.  After  serving  in  the  navy,  he  joined  the 
Honourable  East  India  Company's  service  in  January,  1842. 
He  was  employed  with  the  Field  Hospital  of  the  Army  of 
the  Sutlej  with  the  49th  Bengal  Native  Infantry.  He  was 
also  engaged  in  the  Chinese  war  of  1860,  for  which  he  re- 
ceived the  medal.  In  the  Indian  Mutiny  in  1857,  he  acted 
as  Surgeon  in  Chief  Medical  Charge  of  Foot  Artillery  at  the 
siege  of  Delhi,  and  was  present  at  the  storming  and  capture 
of  the  city,  for  which  he  received  the  medal  and  clasp.  Until 
December,  1872,  he  was  the  Inspector-General  of  Hospitals. 
He  retired  in  that  year,  with  the  rank  of  Surgeon-General. 
He  died,  in  August,  1900,  at  the  age  of  eighty-five.  While 
in  India,  he  was  noted  for  his  contributions  to  the  press,  and 
he  was  on  the  staff  of  the  chief  Calcutta  papers.  His  wife 
was  a  Miss  Elizabeth  Walsh,  daughter  of  Mr.  George  Walsh, 


1869] 


HIS  CHILDREN 


99 


of  the  Foreign  Office,  and  of  King's  County  family.  Miss 
Walsh  was  remarkable  for  her  intellect  no  less  than  her  per- 
sonal beauty. 

There  were  two  children  of  the  marriage  of  Henry  Irving 
to  Miss  Florence  O'Callaghan — Henry  Brodribb,  born  on 
5th  August,  1870,  and  Laurence  Sidney  Brodribb,  born  on 
2  ist  December,  1871.  In  reference  to  his  elder  son,  Sir 
Henry,  in  June,  1901,  observed  a  statement  in  one  of  the 
Sunday  papers,  in  connection  with  the  death  of  Dr.  Morley, 
brother  of  Mr.  John  Morley.  The  veracious  gossiper  affirmed 
that  the  deceased  doctor  attended  the  birth  of  Mr.  H.  B. 
Irving,  an  event  which  was  supposed  to  have  occurred  in 
Blackburn,  and  that  the  actor  had  spent  a  winter  in  the  Lan- 
cashire town.  Whereupon  Irving  wrote  to  me:  "The 
truthful  paragraphist !  Amusing!  I  never  met  him,  and 
was  never  in  Blackburn  in  my  life!  Harry  was  born  in 
London."  The  birth  of  their  second 
son  also  took  place  in  London.  In 
three  months  after  that,  the  parents 
were  parted,  the  husband  leaving  his 
domicile — for  reasons  which  do  not 
concern  the  public,  and  need  not  be 
entered  upon — and  taking  up  his  abode 
with  the  Bateman  family,  first  of  all  at 
Kensington  Gore  and  then  at  Rutland 
Gate.  He  subsequently  lived,  for  a 
little  while,  in  chambers  in  Bruton- 
street,  Bond-street ;  he  then  took  the 
chambers  in  Grafton-street,  Bond- 
street,  which  he  occupied,  for  many 
years,  until  1899,  when  he  was  advised 
by  his  doctors  to  remove  to  sunnier 

quarters    in     StrattOn-Street,     Piccadilly.    ISA  GRAFTON   STREET,   BOND 

It  was  not  until    1879,  when  a  deed     DURING  i**m£si£™£lZ 
of  separation  was  entered  into  between     DENCE  THERE- 
the  actor  and  his  wife,  that  the  final  parting  came.       Lady 
Irving,    who   survives  her   husband,    had    the    care   of  the 


ioo      THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  vn. 

children  until  they  went  to  college,  and  they  lived  with  her 
until  they  married. 

Irving's  celebrity  as  an  impersonator  of  "  fashionable 
villains"  next  took  him  to  Drury  Lane,  where,  on  5th  August, 
he  played  the  villain  again— a  comparatively  mild  one,  but  a 
villain  still — in  the  production  of  Boucicault's  drama,  "  For- 
mosa, or  the  Railroad  to  Ruin  ".  The  play  was  condemned  as 
being  an  imitation  of  a  better  piece,  "  The  Flying  Scud,"  by 
the  same  author,  and  for  introducing  to  the  English  stage  a 
picture  of  life  to  which,  unfortunately,  twentieth-century 
audiences  have  become  habituated.  One  specimen  of  the 
denunciation  of  "  Formosa"  may  be  given.  The  Sunday 
Times — the  criticisms  in  which  carried  great  weight — protested 
that  it  had  "never  been  numbered  among  those  who  would 
unduly  limit  the  subjects  with  which  art  may  concern  itself. 
We  would  leave  the  artist's  finger  to  roam  at  will  over  the 
gamut  of  life,  choosing  whatever  notes  produce  the  fullest 
harmony.  But  there  is  no  question  here  of  art  or  harmony. 
To  vindicate  the  production  on  the  stage  of  such  scenes  as 
those  exhibited  in  Mr.  Boucicault's  second  act  on  the  ground 
that  they  are  common,  would  justify  a  good  many  things 
dramatists  are  not  likely  .to  attempt.  For  God's  sake,  let  us 
leave  to  the  French  the  exhibition  of  the  sickly  splendour  and 
sentiment  of  the  life  of  the  courtesan.  We  know,  and  will  con- 
cede, that  when  a  young  man  goes  with  fullest  rapidity  to  ruin, 
infamous  women  generally  aid  his  fall.  We  may  even  allow, 
in  truly  artistic  works,  indications  of  the  agencies  by  which 
the  ruin  has  been  accomplished.  But  to  exhibit,  at  length, 
with  however  moral  a  purpose,  the  nastiness  of  life  in  the 
'  demi-monde,'  is  an  innovation  we  see  with  regret."  Despite 
this,  and  other  protests  of  a  similar  nature,  "Formosa"  had 
a  run  at  Drury  Lane  of  one  hundred  and  seventeen  con- 
secutive nights.  The  character  played  by  Henry  Irving, 
Compton  Kerr,  had  no  distinguishing  features.  As  one 
observant  journal  was  fain  to  remark,  "  Mr.  Irving  has 
played  a  villain  sufficiently  frequent  to  be  up  in  the  part. 
He  presented,  accordingly,  in  satisfactory  fashion,  the  ap- 


1 869] 


MR.  CHEVENIX 


101 


pearance  and  manner   of  the   high-bred   rascal  of  modern 
days." 

There  was  really  no  more  to  be  said.  Irving  was  by  now 
a  past  master  in  presenting  the  conventional  villains  of  melo- 
drama. And,  as  it  turned  out,  he  finished  with  them  before 
1870.  At  that  time,  he  numbered  among  his  personal  friends 
a  handsome  young  actor,  then  a  member  of  the  Prince  of 
Wales's  Theatre,  H.  J.  Montague,  and  this  friendship  resulted, 
indirectly,  in  his  engagement  at  the  Lyceum  two  years  after- 
wards. In  the  autumn  of  1869,  the  two  young  actors  joined 
forces  and  gave,  on  the  afternoon  of  Saturday,  23rd  October, 
some  dramatic  readings  and  recitals  at  the  Westbourne 
Hall,  Westbourne  Grove,  Bayswater.  The  two  friends 
relied  entirely  upon  their  own  efforts  ;  they  had  not  even 
the  assistance  of  music.  Their  interesting  programme  was 
as  follows  : — 


Reading 
Recital  - 
Reading 
Reading 
Reading 

Reading 
Reading 
Recital  - 
Reading 


PART  I. 

-  "  Gemini  and  Virgo  "     - 

Mr.  HENRY  IRVING. 

-  "  The  Demon  Ship  "      - 

Mr.  MONTAGUE. 
"  Waterloo  "  (Childe  Harold)       - 

Mr.  IRVING. 
1  Paddy  O'Rafferty's  Say  Voyage  "  - 

Mr.  MONTAGUE. 

"  Ion  "  (selection),  Act  2,  Scene  i    - 
Messrs.  IRVING  and  MONTAGUE. 

PART  II. 


C.  S.  C. 
Hood. 

Byron. 

Anon. 

Talfourd. 

Shakespeare. 


"Othello"  (selection),  Act  2,  Scene  3 

Messrs.  MONTAGUE  and  IRVING. 
Death  of  Joe  the  Crossing  Sweeper  "  (Bleak  House)     Dickens. 
Mr.  MONTAGUE. 
-"The  Uncle"-        -        -        -         H.  G.  Bell. 

Mr.  IRVING. 

"  The  Rivals"  (selection),  Acts  2  and  3,  Scene  i         Sheridan. 
Messrs.  MONTAGUE  and  IRVING. 


Irving's  next  character,  Reginald  Chevenix,  enabled  him, 
once  and  for  all,  to  get  away  from  the  stage  villain.  A  piece 
called  "  Uncle  Dick's  Darling"  had  been  written  for  Toole 
by  H.  J.  Byron.  Toole  was  anxious  for  Irving  to  act  with 
him  again,  and  the  feeling  was  heartily  reciprocated.  But 
"Formosa"  was  still  running  at  Drury  Lane,  and  the  new 
play  was  due  early  in  December.  But,  very  fortunately  for  the 


102       THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  VIL 

subject  of  this  biography,  the  manager  of  the  Gaiety  Theatre, 
John  Hollingshead,  had  "some  slight  influence"  with  the 
manager  of  Drury  Lane,  F.  B.  Chatterton,  who  released  his 
"gentlemanly  villain"  from  his  engagement.  Accordingly, 
on  1 3th  December,  Henry  Irving  acted  Mr.  Chevenixat  the 
Gaiety,  and  made  a  pronounced  success.  The  play  was  very 
reminiscent  of  other  works,  more  particularly,  "  Doctor  Mari- 
gold's Prescription,"  by  Dickens,  and  the  character  acted  by 
Irving  had  obviously  been  modelled  on  Mr.  Dombey.  It  is, 
therefore,  not  surprising  to  find  that  he  made  an  impression 
that  was  just  as  favourable  in  London  as  that  created  by  him 
in  1 86 1,  when  he  played  Mr.  Dombey  in  Manchester.  Mr. 
Chevenix  is  a  conceited,  cold,  pompous,  methodical  man  of 
the  world,  with  an  aristocratic  bias.  Irving's  personation  was 
as  full  of  delicate  work  as  one  of  Meissonier's  pictures.  His 
make-up  with  stiff  stock  and  curls,  similar  to  the  old  "bucks" 
of  Cruikshank's  middle  period — was  generally  recognised  as 
a  triumph  of  its  kind.  "It  is  the  fashion,"  wrote  one  critic, 
"to  say  that  Mr.  Irving  can  only  play  villains.  Well,  he 
certainly  can  play  villains ;  but  I  know  few  young  actors  who 
could  so  thoroughly  interpret,  both  in  appearance  and  acting, 
the  author's  meaning  in  Mr.  Chevenix."  The  Prince  of 
Wales,  it  may  be  added,  was  present  on  the  first  night,  and 
sent  for  Mr.  Toole,  to  whom  he  expressed  his  gratification  at 
the  performance.  Dickens  witnessed  the  play  and  was 
favourably  impressed  by  Irving's  acting, 

After  long  years  of  working  and  watching  for  his  oppor- 
tunity, Irving  at  last  got  his  chance — and  took  it.  His  friend, 
H.  J.  Montague,  joined  forces  with  two  extremely  favourite 
players,  David  James  and  Mr.  Thomas  Thorne,  in  the 
management  of  the  Vaudeville  Theatre,  then  a  new  house. 
It  was  opened  on  i6th  April,  1870,  with  a  comedy,  by 
Andrew  Halliday,  entitled  "For  Love  or  Money".  The 
part  of  Alfred  Skimmington,  "a  handsome  west-end  swell, 
who  is  currently  reported  to  be  worth  ,£3,000  a  year,  but 
who  has  not  given  his  attention  very  closely  to  morals,"  was 
not  capable  of  much  development,  though  Irving  was  credited 


1 870]  DIGBY  GRANT  103 

with  a  carefully  finished  portrait.  Nor  was  the  comedy  a 
success.  It  was  succeeded,  on  4th  June,  by  a  play  which 
brought  the  impersonator  of  Digby  Grant  into  great  promin- 
ence— "Two  Roses,"  the  work  of  James  Albery,  then  a  new 
writer.  The  play  had  its  own  intrinsic  merit,  and  its  general 
interpretation  was  exceptionally  good.  The  cast,  indeed, 
was  a  strong  one,  including  George  Honey,  H.  J.  Montague, 
Mr.  Thorne,  and  Miss  Amy  Fawsitt — all  admirable  actors— 
in  addition  to  Irving.  Digby  Grant,  is  the  father  of  the 
"  Two  Roses,"  Lottie  and  Ida,  an  impecunious  gentleman 
who,  to  the  slenderest  of  purses,  adds  descent  from  a  noble 
family,  with  the  result  which  is  usual  on  the  stage — pride  of 
birth  and  ancestry  upon  which  he  frequently  descants.  In 
the  earlier  scenes,  he  is  struggling  hard,  in  the  face  of  financial 
embarrassment,  to  preserve  his  dignity.  But,  compelled  by 
his  inability  otherwise  to  command  certain  wants  and  luxuries 
which  his  tastes  demand,  he  condescends  to  associate  with 
some  people  who  are  beneath  him  in  birth,  and  some  amusing 
situations  are  the  result.  He  suddenly  comes  into  a  fortune, 
and  at  once  discards  the  friends  of  his  adversity  and  repays 
his  obligations  by  the  presentation  to  each  of  his  former  as- 
sociates of  "a  little  cheque".  But  Nemesis  awaits  him,  for 
it  turns  out  that  he  is  not  the  rightful  heir,  and  his  pride  has 
a  terrible  fall.  From  this  brief  outline  of  the  character,  it  may 
be  judged  that  the  part  allowed  ample  scope  for  elaboration 
by  an  actor  of  experience  and  resource.  Henry  Irving  took 
the  utmost  advantage  of  this  opening,  and  London  play- 
goers were  warm  in  his  praise.  So,  also,  were  many  of  his 
admirers  in  the  country,  for,  after  a  long  run  in  the  metropolis, 
"Two  Roses"  was  taken  on  tour,  and  in  Manchester,  Liver- 
pool, Bristol,  Dublin,  and  other  places,  the  Digby  Grant  of 
Henry  Irving  was  greeted  with  the  acclamation  of  the  public 
and  the  praise  of  the  press.  It  would  take  several  pages  of 
this  book  to  quote  a  tithe  of  the  laudatory  criticisms  which 
Henry  Irving  received  for  his  original  rendering  of  this 
character.  But  it  is  necessary  to  cite  some  instances  by  way 
of  showing  the  extraordinary  effect  which  he  created.  The 


104      THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  vn. 

Globe,  after  a  careful  description  of  the  character  said :  "It 
is  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  Henry  Irving;  we  need  scarcely  say 
more  about  it.  As  a  character  actor,  Mr.  Irving  has  no 
rival  upon  the  English  stage.  His  delineation  of  the  hollow- 
hearted  meanness,  the  contemptible  presumption,  and  the 
disgusting  hypocrisy  of  Digby  Grant  is  extraordinary.  The 


"  A  little  cheque  !  " 
DIGBY  GRANT  IN  "Two  ROSES". 

tones  of  the  voice  betray  the  character  of  the  man  in  all  its 
varied  phases  ;  and  the  whole  impersonation  is  at  once  a  work 
of  art  and  a  triumph  of  genius."  Another  critic  considered 
the  impersonation  "so  original  in  conception  and  so  masterly 
in  execution  as  to  enable  the  artist  to  take  rank  among  the 
very  best  actors  on  the  London  stage,"  and  a  third  said  : 


i8;o] 


A  GREAT  ADVANCE 


105 


"  He  is  one  of  the  best  character  actors  on  the  English  stage, 
and  he  derives  immense  advantage  from  the  circumstance 
that  he  is  able  to  speak  the  English  language  like  an  English 
gentleman.  His  Digby  Grant  is  perfect."  This  chorus  ot 
praise  was  echoed  in  the  provinces.  In  short,  Henry  Irving 
had  now  attained  a  position  which  removed  him  from  the 


"  You  annoy  me  very  much." 
DIGBY  GRANT  IN  "  Two  ROSES". 

level  of  an  intelligent,  earnest,  and  painstaking  actor.  He 
had  demonstrated  that  he  had  some  force  of  his  own  which 
separated  him  from  the  ordinary  run.  He  could  create.  He 
could  think  for  himself. 

Now  that  he  had  got  so  far,  he  determined  upon  giving 
the  public  a  proof  of  the  real  power  which  he  felt  that  he 


io6      THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAR  vn. 

possessed.  This  was  on  the  two  hundred  and  ninety-first 
night  of  "  Two  Roses,"  the  occasion  being  his  benefit.  After 
the  comedy,  the  author,  Mr.  Albery,  read  an  address  entitled 
4 'Our  Secretary's  Reply,"  and  Toole  once  again  proved  his 
friendship,  and  acted  Robson's  celebrated  character,  Jacob 
Earwig,  in  "  Boots  at  the  Swan,"  Irving  playing  Frank 
Friskly.  Before  the  farce,  Henry  Irving  gave  his  first  proof 
in  London  of  his  powers  as  a  delineator  of  tragedy  by  reciting 
"  The  Dream  of  Eugene  Aram  ".  Since  that  time,  thousands 
of  people  have  heard  the  actor  give  this  recital — if,  indeed, 
that  is  the  right  word  to  use  for  what  was  in  effect  a  magnifi- 
cent piece  of  acting — but  it  is  curious  to  see  what  impression 
he  created  in  1871.  This  is  how  the  Observer,  of  26th  March, 
of  that  year,  described  this  important  event  in  the  career  of 
Henry  Irving:  "  In  other  days,  when  the  stage  had  a 
different  history,  and  supplied  other  wants,  it  is  not  unnatural 
to  suppose  that  an  artist  like  Mr.  Irving  would  have  been 
found  assisting  at  one  of  the  large  theatres  devoted  to  the 
poetical  drama  and  to  classical  English  comedy.  He  has 
just  the  stuff  in  him  which  the  great  actors  of  whom  we  read 
must  have  possessed.  He  has  appreciation,  unquestionable 
intelligence,  and  that  great  gift  of  which  we  see  so  little  now-a- 
days — power.  Failing  to  get  together  for  a  one-night  benefit 
the  kind  of  assistance  which  would  have  been  necessary  for 
one  of  the  old  plays,  Mr.  Irving  contented  himself  with  doing 
what  he  had  to  do  unassisted.  He  prepared  for  himself  a 
most  trying  task ;  it  was  to  recite  Hood's  poem  of  *  Eugene 
Aram,'  or,  rather,  to  act  it.  The  difficulties  attending  such  a 
task  were  obvious.  An  actor  comes  before  the  footlights  in 
ordinary  evening  dress,  and,  without  any  assistance  from 
scenery  or  properties,  makes  the  audience  forget  the  gentleman 
in  evening  dress  and  think  only  of  the  conscience-stricken 
man.  This  recital  was  nothing  like  a  reading  in  the  ordinary 
sense  of  the  term.  It  was  not  what  is  commonly  called  a 
reading  or  a  recitation.  It  was  a  vigorous  and  powerful  bit 
of  acting.  The  power  of  the  actor  soon  told  home.  The 
poem  is  long,  but  Mr.  Irving  soon  grasped  his  audience,  and 


1871]          RECITES  "EUGENE  ARAM"  107 

bent  it  at  his  will.  The  description  of  the  murder,  illustrated 
by  action,  was  admirably  vivid  :— 

Two  sudden  blows  with  a  rugged  stick, 
And  one  with  a  heavy  stone, 
One  hurried  gash  with  a  hasty  knife, 
And  then  the  deed  was  done. 

From  this  point,  on  went  Mr.  Irving  sweeping  along  with  the 
irresistible  fury  of  the  poem.  The  horror  of  the  discovery  of 
the  dead  body  in  the  dry  river  bed  was  again  a  powerful 
dramatic  point,  and  the  tragic  effect  culminated  in  the  second 
horror  :— 

As  soon  as  the  mid-day  task  was  done, 
In  secret  I  was  there, 
And  a  mighty  wind  had  swept  the  leaves, 
And  still  the  corse  was  bare. 

Here  the  audience,  thoroughly  excited,  could  restrain  its  ex- 
citement no  further,  and  the  theatre  rang  with  genuine  and 
thoroughly  enthusiastic  applause.  It  was  a  daring  experiment, 
but,  as  it  turned  out,  thoroughly  successful.  It  was  such 
acting  as  is  now  seldom  seen,  and  the  thought  must  have 
struck  many  in  the  theatre  whether,  with  our  little  plays  and 
pretty  sketches,  our  dainty  realisation  of  every-day  life,  our 
clever  sarcasms,  our  elegancies  and  sensation  drama,  we  are 
not  losing  sight  of  those  great  passions,  that  tragedy  of  human 
life  which  it  belongs  to  the  actor  to  interpret." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

1871-1872. 

A  deserted  theatre — The  Lyceum  taken  in  order  to  exploit  Miss  Isabel 
Bateman — Irving  becomes  a  member  of  the  company — His  own  story  of 
the  engagement — The  failure  of  "  Fanchette  " — Alfred  Jingle — A  personal 
triumph — "The  Bells" — Irving  insists  on  its  production — The  manager 
gives  way — London  rings  with  Irving's  great  impersonation  of  Mathias — 
Unanimity  of  the  Press — "  Commendatory  Criticisms  " — The  Times  and 
other  papers  write  in  appreciation — "The  Bells"  acted  for  one  hundred 
and  fifty-one  consecutive  nights — The  London  verdict  endorsed  by  the 
Provinces — Irving's  Jeremy  Diddler  described.  • 

IN  the  year  1871,  when  Henry  Irving  was  still  playing 
Digby  Grant  at  the  Vaudeville,  there  was  a  deserted 
theatre  which  was  destined  to  become  famous  for  ever  in  the 
annals  of  the  stage.  This  was  the  Lyceum,  which  had  been 
in  existence  as  a  place  of  entertainment  of  one  kind  or  an- 
other since  1772.  The  actual  building  in  which  Irving  won 
so  many  triumphs  dated  from  1834.  The  house  had  an 
extremely  chequered  career,  and,  in  1869,  it  had  fallen  upon 
such  evil  days  that  there  was  no  regular  management  and  it 
was  only  opened  at  fitful  intervals.  In  that  year,  the  effects  of 
the  Sublime  Society  of  Beef  Steaks — the  meetings  of  which 
had  been  held  in  premises  adjoining  the  theatre  and  con- 
nected with  the  building — were  sold  by  auction.  Two  comic 
operas  were  given  at  the  Lyceum  in  1870 — "Chilperic"  on 
22nd  January,  and  "  Breaking  the  Spell"  on  the  2nd  May. 
Both  were  failures,  but  the  title  of  the  latter  piece  was 
prophetic,  for  the  theatre  had  been  lying  idle  for  over  a  year 
when  an  enterprising  American  manager,  who  wished  to 
exploit  his  youngest  daughter,  took  the  theatre  for  that  pur- 
pose. With  that  object,  he  gathered  together  a  company  of 
actors  of  recognised  merit,  including  the  representative  of 

108 


1871]  AT  THE  LYCEUM  109 

Digby  Grant  whom  he  had  seen  at  the  Vaudeville,  a  visit 
which  induced  him  to  exclaim,  "that  young  man  should  play 
Richelieu " — an  event  which  came  to  pass,  under  his  own 
management,  in  1873.  There  have  been  so  many  versions 
in  regard  to  Irving's  engagement  by  Bateman  that  it  may  be 
as  well  to  set  down,  once  and  for  all,  the  true  story,  as  told 
by  Henry  Irving  himself.  "  Much  against  the  wish  of  my 
friends,  I  took  an  engagement  at  the  Lyceum,  then  under  the 
management  of  Mr.  Bateman.  I  had  successfully  acted  in 
many  plays,  besides  the  'Two  Roses,'  which  ran  three 
hundred  nights.  It  was  thought  by  everybody  interested  in 
such  matters,  that  I  ought  to  identify  myself  with  what  they 
called  *  character  parts ' — though  what  that  phrase  means,  by 
the  way,  I  never  could  exactly  understand,  for  I  have  a  pre- 
judice in  the  belief  that  every  part  should  be  a  character.  I 
always  wanted  to  play  in  the  higher  drama.  Even  in  my 
boyhood,  my  desire  had  been  in  that  direction.  When  at 
the  Vaudeville,  I  recited  the  poem  of  *  Eugene  Aram ' 
simply  to  get  an  idea  as  to  whether  I  could  impress  an 
audience  with  a  tragic  theme.  I  hoped  I  could,  and  at  once 
made  up  my  mind  to  prepare  myself  to  play  characters  of 
another  type  to  those  with  which  I  had  hitherto  been  associ- 
ated. When  Mr.  Bateman  engaged  me,  he  told  me  that  he 
would  give  me  an  opportunity,  if  he  could,  to  play  various 
parts,  as  it  was  to  his  interest,  as  much  as  mine,  to  discover 
what  he  thought  would  be  successful — though,  of  course,  never 
dreaming  of  Hamlet  or  of  Richard  the  Third.  Well,  the 
Lyceum  opened,  but  did  not  succeed.  Mr.  Bateman  had 
lost  a  lot  of  money,  and  he  intended  giving  it  up.  He  pro- 
posed to  me  to  go  to  America  with  him.  By  my  advice,  and 
against  Mr.  Bateman's  wish,  *  The  Bells '  was  rehearsed,  but 
he  did  not  believe  in  it  much.  When  I  persuaded  the  man- 
ager to  produce  'The  Bells,'  I  was  told  there  was  a  prejudice 
against  that  sort  of  romantic  play.  It  was  given  to  a  very 
poor,  but  enthusiastic  house,  and  from  that  time  the  theatre 
prospered."  But  we  must  not  anticipate  events. 

The   Lyceum  opened  under  the  Bateman   management 


no     THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  vm. 

on  Monday,  the  nth  September,  1871.  The  choice  of  play 
was  not  a  good  one.  "  Fanchette,  or  the  Will  o'  the  Wisp," 
was  an  adaptation  made  by  the  manager's  wife,  from  the 
German,  "  Die  Grille,"  which  owed  its  origin  to  George 
Sands'  story,  "  La  Petite  Fadette,"  a  stage  version  of  which, 
under  the  title  of  "The  Grasshopper,"  had  been  previously 
seen  in  London,  The  occasion,  be  it  remembered,  was  for 
the  debut  before  a  London  audience  of  a  young  actress  whose 
sister,  Miss  Kate  Bateman,  made  a  great  success  at  the 
Adelphi  Theatre,  in  1863,  as  Leah.  This  was  Miss  Isabel 
Bateman — the  third  of  the  four  daughters  of  Colonel  Bate- 
man :  Kate,  Ellen,  Isabella,  and  Frances.  Henry  Irving 
was  merely  a  member  of  the  company  engaged  to  support 
her.  The  Morning  Post,  on  the  morning  following  the  pro- 
duction, congratulated  the  young  player  on  the  result,  "for 
probably  no  actress  in  modern  times  ever  made  a  first  ap- 
pearance more  auspiciously,  or  more  satisfactorily,  in  every 
respect ".  Fanchette  derives  her  nick-name  from  her  uncanny 
appearance,  and  from  the  fact  that  she  is  the  grandchild  of  a 
reputed  witch,  Mother  Fadette,  whose  life  has  been  blighted 
by  the  conduct  of  Father  Barbeau,  a  rich  farmer,  who  had 
prevented  his  brother  from  marrying  her.  One  of  old  Bar- 
beau's  sons,  Landry,  is  the  beau  of  the  village,  and  he  falls 
under  the  spell  of  the  little  enchantress,  who  makes  him 
dance  with  her  during  the  entire  evening,  on  the  occasion 
of  a  festival. 

Landry  Barbeau  was  a  thin  and  unsatisfactory  part  for 
an  actor  who  had  won  distinction  as  the  chief  representative 
of  stage  villains,  as  the  pompous  Mr.  Chevenix,  as  the  proud 
Digby  Grant,  and  who  had  thrilled  a  London  audience  by  his 
rendering  of  the  tragic  "  Dream  of  Eugene  Aram  ".  It  was 
a  case  of  making  bricks  without  straw.  Still,  little  as  he  had 
to  do,  he  drew  credit  to  himself  for  the  earnestness  and 
thoughtfulness  of  his  love-making  scenes,  and  the  journal 
already  quoted  in  this  connection  pronounced  him  "the  best 
actor  in  romantic  drama  that  we  possess  ".  So  far,  so  good. 
But  "  Fanchette  "  was  not  a  strong  play,  and  the  intelli- 


1871]  ALFRED  JINGLE  in 

gent  young  actress  was  not  the  attraction  which  her  father 
anticipated.  So  the  piece  and  the  actress  were  replaced,  on 
23rd  October,  by  an  adaptation  of  the  "  Pickwick  Papers," 
with  Henry  Irving  as  Alfred  Jingle.  The  version  was  by 
Mr.  James  Albery,  whose  reputation  as  a  playright  had  been 
made  by  "  Two  Roses  ".  He,  no  doubt,  had  the  first  Digby 
Grant  in  his  mind's  eye  when  he  undertook  the  work,  and 
he  was  criticised  very  strongly  for  his  deficiencies  in  attempt- 
ing what  was  really  an  impossible  task.  He  was  advised 
that  he  might  just  as  reasonably  have  called  his  piece  "  Pick- 
ings from  Pickwick,"  or  "  Pictures  from  Pickwick,"  as  Pick- 
wick, and  that  a  better  name  for  his  work  would  have  been 
" Jingle" — a  suggestion  that  was  adopted  at  the  Lyceum, 
when  Irving  revived  the  piece  in  1887.  Pickwick  became  a 
secondary  character,  and  there  was  "  a  remarkable  composite 
reproduction  of  '  the  bedroom  scene '  which,  by  the  indiscreet 
efforts  of  one  of  the  actors  to  heighten  the  effect  becomes 
offensive  to  good  taste  and  painfully  uninteresting".  There 
is  no  doubt — for  the  documentary  evidence  is  convincing  on 
the  point — that  the  Alfred  Jingle  of  Henry  Irving  was  the  hit 
of  the  performance.  It  is  only  necessary  to  cite  two  out  of 
the  dozens  of  the  criticisms  on  this  performance.  The  Stan- 
dard, which  was  not  prejudiced  in  favour  of  the  actor,  said 
that  the  full  excellence  of  Irving's  acting  was  more  than 
usually  distinguishable.  "His  grotesque,  shabby-genteel  ap- 
pearance— the  dignified  serenity  with  which  he  pursued  his 
ulterior  aims — his  imperturbable  impudence  and  unflinching 
confidence  won  their  way  at  once  to  the  favour  of  the  audi- 
ence and  thoroughly  deserved  the  applause  that  greeted  him 
in  every  scene  and  the  tumultuous  recall  that  brought  him 
before  the  footlights  at  the  close  of  the  performance."  The 
London  critic  of  the  Liverpool  Porcupine — a  most  exacting 
journal — said  that  the  actor  was  so  identified  with  "  the  char- 
acter on  the  first  night  that  over  and  over  again  he  turned 
minor  stage  accidents  and  shortcomings  to  account,  as  though 
they  were  parts  of  the  personation.  The  facile  hands  were 
never  quiet,  the  plotting  eyes  were  always  glinting,  and  the 


ii2     THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  vm. 

ready  tongue  was  never  at  a  loss.  The  actor,  to  use  an 
Americanism,  '  went '  for  the  house,  and  as  completely 
*  fetched '  it.  All  the  other  characters  were  completely 
thrown  into  the  shade  by  Jingle." 

The  personal  triumph  of  an  actor  who  had  not  yet  risen 
to  fame,  in  a  sketchy  part,  was  not  expected  to  fill  the  theatre 
at  a  time  when  the  drama  was  at  a  deplorably  low  ebb  and 
theatre-going  was  out  of  fashion  with  the  majority  of  the 
better-class  patrons  of  the  playhouse.  Something  of  an  extra- 
ordinary nature  was  necessary  to  drag  the  unfortunate  Lyceum 
out  of  the  desperate  straits  into  which  it  had  sunk.  The  re- 
sources of  Mr.  Bateman  were  almost  at  an  end.  He  had 
tried  and  failed,  and,  after  two  months  at  the  Lyceum,  he 
thought,  as  we  have  already  seen,  of  abandoning  his  scheme 
and  returning  to  America.  It  was  at  this  moment  that  Henry 
Irving  stepped  into  the  breach,  and,  with  invincible  belief  in 
himself,  urged  upon  Bateman  the  one  thing  needful  to  save 
the  situation  from  disaster.  This  was  the  production  of  "The 
Bells,"  a  translation  of  "  Le  Juif  Polonais,"  which  had  been 
offered  to  him  by  one  Leopold  Lewis.  The  same  person  had 
already  offered  the  play  to  Bateman,  who  had  peremptorily 
refused  it.  This  made  Irving's  fight  all  the  harder.  More- 
over, Bateman  had  in  his  mind  the  popular  idea  of  a  burgo- 
master, and,  looking  at  the  slender  figure  before  him,  laughed 
in  the  actor's  face.  "You  a  burgomaster!"  he  exclaimed,  in 
good-natured  derision,  and  would  hear  no  more  of  the  sub- 
ject. The  resolution  of  the  actor  was  not  to  be  shaken.  And 
fortune,  for  once,  favoured  him  in  his  plans,  but  in  a  manner 
which  would  have  caused  the  majority  of  men  to  hesitate  and 
then  to  abandon  the  project.  This  was  the  announcement  of 
another  version  of  the  same  story.  Irving  felt  that  it  was 
now  or  never.  The  most  critical  moment  in  his  career 
had  arrived  and  he  did  not  falter.  He  took  advantage 
of  his  opportunity  and  pressed  his  suit  with  renewed  ardour. 
The  manager,  as  a  last  resort,  yielded  to  the  earnest  en- 
treaty of  the  actor,  and  consented  to  give  his  views  a  trial. 
The  piece  was  put  into  rehearsal,  and  Bateman  went  over  to 


Photo  :  London  Stereoscopic  Co. 

ALFRED  JINGLE. 


1871]  "THE  BELLS"  113 

Paris,  where  the  French  play  was  being  acted,  to  see  if  he 
could  gain  any  valuable  hints  for  the  English  production.  The 
company  thought  that  Irving  was  bereft  of  his  senses,  but  he 
worked  assiduously  at  rehearsals,  and  the  scenery  and  pro- 
perties were  hastily  prepared.  In  the  meantime,  the  spirits 
of  all  concerned — save,  only,  those  of  the  future  Mathias— 
were  lowered  to  their  utmost  limit  by  the  complete  failure  of 
the  rival  version  on  its  production,  at  the  Alfred  Theatre,  on 
Monday,  i3th  November.1  This  failure  only  added  to  the 
determination  of  the  actor  to  succeed  in  his  cherished  idea. 
"The  Bells"  was  produced  on  Saturday,  25th  November, 
1871.  Irving's  performance  of  Mathias  electrified  the  audi- 
ence. The  spectators  on  this  auspicious  occasion  were  few 
and  they  had  come  in  a  spirit  of  boredom.  Henry  Irving 
beat  down  their  coldness  and  reserve,  the  theatre  re-echoed 
with  such  applause  as  had  not  been  heard  within  its  walls  for 
many  years,  and,  by  the  Monday  morning,  all  play-going 
London  was  aware  that  a  great  personality  and  a  great  actor 
had  come  into  his  hard-won  kingdom. 

He  had  fought  for  over  fifteen  years  with  London  as  the 
goal  of  his  ambition,  and  the  struggle,  long,  anxious,  and  ab- 
solutely unparalleled  in  the  history  of  the  stage,  had  been  won. 
It  had  been  won,  fairly  and  squarely,  without  any  social  or 
any  other  influence,  without  money,  and,  as  we  have  seen, 
in  the  face  of  prejudice  and  managerial  opposition.  To  do 
Colonel  Bateman  justice,  it  is  only  fair  to  say  that,  having  once 
given  way  in  regard  to  "  The  Bells,"  he  did  all  that  lay  within 
his  power  for  the  production.  The  company  was  a  capable 
one,  and  the  scenery  was,  for  those  days,  so  good  that  its 
excellence  was  commented  on  in  the  press.  He  also  brought 
over  from  Paris  a  conductor  who  was  thoroughly  acquainted 
with  the  music  of  the  play — a  great  assistance.  In  order 

1  It  was  called  "  Paul  Zegers,  or,  The  Dream  of  Retribution  "  and  was 
announced  as  "  a  new  and  original  drama,"  by  F.  C.  Burnand.  The  burgo- 
master was  taken  by  an  actor  whose  name  is  now  unknown.  The  Royal 
Alfred  Theatre  had  a  varied  history,  under  several  names — the  Marylebone 
and  West  London,  as  well  as  Alfred. 

VOL.  I.  8 


ii4     THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  vm. 

thoroughly  to  appreciate  the  surrounding  circumstances,  it 
should  be  noted  that  "The  Bells  "  was  only  one  item  in  what 
would  be  called  nowadays  "a  triple  bill".  The  "star"  of  the 
company  was  a  comedian,  George  Belmore,  who  began  the 
proceedings  with  the  farce,  "  My  Turn  Next,"  and  also  ap- 
peared in  the  last  piece,  "  Pickwick,"  the  actors  in  which 
were  announced  in  this  order  :  George  Belmore,  Henry 
Irving,  and  E.  P.  Addison.  It  will  be  observed  that  Irving, 
despite  his  success  as  Jingle,  was  still  playing  second  fiddle 
to  the  elder  actor.  "The  Bells"  changed  all  that,  though 
not  at  once.  In  order  to  fill  his  house,  and  save  his  pocket, 
the  clever  Colonel  adopted  a  novel  plan  in  regard  to  the 
opinions  of  the  press.  It  would  have  required  several  columns 
to  have  published  anything  like  the  complete,  and  favourable, 
comments.  So  he  had  a  two-inch  advertisement,  headed 
with  "  The  Bells,"  and  "  Mr.  Henry  Irving,"  in  capitals, 
followed  by  this  announcement:  "The  Press  has,  with  start- 
ling unanimity,  expressed  so  favourable  an  opinion  of  the  new 
drama,  'The  Bells,'  and  also  of  the  marvellous  acting  of  Mr. 
Henry  Irving  in  the  character  of  Mathias,  that  the  manage- 
ment would  desire  to  publish  in  the  form  of  an  advertisement 
the  whole  of  the  notices.  This,  however,  being  impossible, 
Mr.  Bateman  cannot  do  less,  in  acknowledgment  of  these 
opinions,  than  to  enumerate  the  papers  which  have  contained 
such  unprecedented  commendatory  criticisms. "  The  manager 
then  gave  a  list,  printed  in  capitals,  in  double-column,  of  the 
forty-one  London  newspapers  which  had  extended  such  an 
enthusiastic  welcome  to  the  creator  of  Mathias — for  Henry 
Irving  was,  in  the  French  sense,  at  least,  the  creator  of  the 
character.  Of  this,  however,  more  anon.  The  papers  cited 
by  Mr.  Bateman  for  their  "  commendatory  criticisms "  of 
Irving  as  Mathias  were  the  following:— 

Athenaeum  Daily  Telegraph 

Army  and  Navy  Gazette  Examiner 

Bell's  Life  Echo 

Civil  Service  Gazette  Era 

Court  Journal  Figaro 

Daily  News  Fun 


1871]     "COMMENDATORY  CRITICISMS"         115 


Globe 

Graphic 

Hornet 

Illustrated  London  News 

Illustrated  Times 

Illustrated  Newspaper 

John  Bull 

Judy 

Lloyd's 

Morning  Post 

Morning  Advertiser 

News  of  the  World 

Observer 

Orchestra 

Pall  Mall  Gazette 


Punch 

Queen 

Reynolds' 

Shipping  Gazette 

Sporting  Life 

Sportsman 

Standard 

Sun  and  Central  Press 

Sunday  Times 

Times 

Vanity  Fair 

Weekly  Dispatch 

Weekly  Times 

Westminster  Papers 


It  is  not  generally  known,  although  the  critics  of  1871  were 
well  aware  of  the  state  of  the  case,  that  there  is  a  great  dif- 
ference between  "The  Bells,"  as  played  by  Henry  Irving, 
and  the  original  work  by  Emile  Erckmann  and  Alexandre 
Chatrian.  This  was  intended  to  be  "une  simple  etude  dram- 
atique  ecrite  sans  aucune  preoccupation  du  theitre  ".  The 
French  theatrical  managers  saw  the  possibilities  of  "  Le  Juif 
Polonais  "  on  the  stage,  and  it  was  produced  at  the  Theatre 
Cluny  in  1869.  The  original  Mathias  of  the  French  stage, 
Talien,  and  his  French  successors,  the  elder  Coquelin  and  M. 
Got,  made  the  part  that  of  a  prosperous,  somewhat  easy-going 
Alsatian,  whose  fears  are  not  very  intense,  and  whose  death, 
in  accordance  with  the  views  of  the  authors,  is  attributed  to 
too  much  white  wine.  This  is  the  more  faithful  rendering  of 
the  part,  strictly  speaking,  but  a  typical,  commonplace  burgo- 
master would  not  have  been  acceptable  to  the  English  public, 
and  it  is  not  difficult  to  see  why  no  one  had  any  faith  whatever 
in  "The  Bells"  beyond  Henry  Irving.  The  manager,  as  we 
know,  produced  it  against  his  will,  having  first  refused  to  do 
so  and  having  laughed  in  Irving's  face  at  the  absurdity  of  the 
thing.  Even  when  the  piece  was  being  rehearsed,  Irving's 
fellow  players  looked  at  him  askance.  The  failure  of  the 
version  at  the  Alfred  Theatre  was,  to  all  but  one  member  of 
the  Lyceum  company,  a  depressing  incident ;  it  only  stimu- 
lated Irving  to  his  highest  endeavour.  "Paul  Zegers"  was 

8  * 


1 16     THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  vm. 

more  an  adaptation,  than  a  translation,  of  the  French  work. 
It  had  a  prologue  and  it  conformed  largely  to  the  accepted 
idea  of  a  stage  play.  It  treated  the  story  as  a  dream,  and 
ended  happily.  The  version  which  had  been  offered  to  Irving 
was  by  a  Bohemian  of  the  old,  and  now  defunct,  school  of 
men  who  preferred  to  do  hack  work  for  the  theatres  rather 
than  attend  to  the  business  into  which  they  had  entered. 
Leopold  Lewis  had  been  a  solicitor,  but  he  abandoned  law 
for  the  pen  of  the  playwright.  His  version  of  "  Le  Juif 
Polonais  "  is,  in  general,  little  more  than  a  translation  of  the 
original,  which  is  in  dialogue.  But  he  altered  the  end,  and 
he  varied  the  termination  of  the  first  act.  In  the  original, 
a  chance  visitor,  dressed  like  a  Polish  Jew,  comes  to  the  door 
of  the  inn,  and  Mathias,  excited  by  the  visions  conjured  up 
by  the  talk  about  the  mesmerist,  falls  down  in  a  fit  and  the  act 
terminates  as  Heinrich  calls  for  the  doctor.1  The  adaptor  was 
criticised  in  some  quarters  for  this  drastic  change,  it  being  held 
that  the  author  wished  to  keep  the  audience  in  suspense  as  to 
their  knowledge  of  Mathias  being  a  murderer  or  not.  This 
treatment  applies  to  a  book,  but  long  experience  has  proved 
that  the  Lyceum  version  of  the  incident — a  vision  seen  by 
Mathias  of  the  actual  murder — is  extremely  effective.  So 
it  proved  on  the  memorable  night  of  25th,  November,  1871. 
Mathias  was  the  turning  point  in  Irving's  career.  He 
literally  awoke  to  find  himself  famous.  The  newspapers,  as 
we  have  seen  from  the  managerial  pronouncement,  united  in  a 
chorus  of  praise.  The  leading  authority  in  dramatic  criticism 
in  London,  the  Times,  while  recalling  Irving's  service  as  "a 
valuable  actor,  especially  of  bad  men  in  good  society,"  regarded 
his  appearance  as  a  tragic  artist  as  a  debut.  Having  given 
a  detailed  description  of  the  story,  it  continued:  "It  will  be 
obvious  to  every  reader  that  the  efficiency  of  this  singular 
play  depends  almost  wholly  upon  the  actor  who  represents 
Mathias.  To  this  one  part  all  the  others  are  subordinate,  and 
while  it  is  most  grateful  to  an  artist  who  can  appreciate  and 
grapple  with  its  difficulties,  it  would  altogether  crush  an  aspirant 

1 "  Le  medecin  .  .  .  courez  chercher  le  medecin." 


i87i] 


LONDON  AT  HIS  FEET 


117 


whose  ambition  was  disproportionate  to  his  talents ;  but,  re- 
markable for  the  strength  of  his  physique,  Mr.  H.  Irving  has 
thrown  the  whole  force  of  his  mind  into  the  character,  and 
works  out  bit  by  bit  the  concluding  hours  of  a  life  passed  in  a 
constant  effort  to  preserve  a  cheerful  exterior,  with  a  conscience 


THE  BELLS. 
First  acted  at  the  Lyceum,  25th  November,  1871. 


MATHIAS     ... 

WALTER 

HANS  .... 

CHRISTIAN  - 
MESMERIST 
DOCTOR  ZIMMER 
NOTARY 
TONY  - 

FRITZ 

JUDGE  OF  THE  COURT  - 
CLERK  OF  THE  COURT  - 
CATHERINE  - 
ANNETTE  - 

SOZEL- 


Mr.  HENRY  IRVING. 
Mr.  FRANK  HALL. 
Mr.  F.  W.  IRISH. 
Mr.  H.  CRELLIN. 
Mr.  A.  TAPPING. 
Mr.  DYAS. 

Mr.  COLLETT. 

Mr.  FREDERICKS. 

Mr.  FOTHERINGHAM. 

Mr.  GASTON  MURRAY. 
Mr.  BRANSCOMBE. 
Miss  G.  PAUNCEFORT. 
Miss  FANNY  HEYWOOD. 
Miss  HELEN  MAYNE. 


ACT  I.  The  Burgomaster's  Inn  at  Alsace.  ACT  II.  Best 
Room  in  the  Burgomaster's  House.  ACT  III.  Bedroom  in 
the  Burgomaster's  House.  Vision,  the  Court.  Period,  Alsace, 
1833- 


tortured  till  it  has  become  a  monomania.  It  is  a  marked  pecu- 
liarity of  the  moral  position  of  Mathias  that  he  has  no  confidant, 
that  he  is  not  subject  to  the  extortions  of  some  mercenary 
wretch  who  would  profit  by  his  knowledge.  He  is  at  once  in 
two  worlds,  between  which  there  is  no  link — an  outer  world 
which  is  ever  smiling,  an  inner  world  which  is  a  purgatory. 
Hence  a  dreaminess  in  his  manner,  which  Mr.  Irving  accur- 
ately represents  in  his  frequent  transitions  from  a  display  of  the 
domestic  affections  to  the  fearful  work  of  self-communion.  In 
the  dream,  his  position  is  changed.  The  outer  world  is  gone, 
and  conscience  is  all-triumphant,  assisted  by  an  imagination 
which  violently  brings  together  the  anticipated  terrors  of  a 
criminal  court  and  the  mesmeric  feats  he  has  recently  witnessed. 
The  struggle  of  the  miserable  culprit,  convinced  that  all  is  lost, 
but  desperately  fighting  against  hope,  rebelling  against  the 
judges,  protesting  against  the  clairvoyant,  who  wrings  his  secret 
from  him,  are  depicted  by  Mr.  Irving  with  a  degree  of  energy 


n8     THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  vm. 

that,  fully  realising  the  horror  of  the  situation,  seems  to  hold 
the  audience  in  suspense.  On  Saturday,  it  was  not  till  the 
curtain  fell,  and  they  summoned  the  actor  before  it  with  a 
storm  of  acclamation,  that  they  seemed  to  recover  their  self- 
possession.  Nevertheless,  so  painful  is  the  interest  of  the 
scene  that,  notwithstanding  the  excellent  manner  in  which  it 
is  played,  we  would  suggest  its  reduction  to  a  smaller  com- 
pass." 

To  hold  an  audience  spell-bound,  as  Irving  did  on  the 
first  night  of  Mathias,  for  a  full  twenty  minutes  in  the  last  act, 
was  a  remarkable  triumph  for  the  actor  whose  greatest  suc- 
cess hitherto  had  been  the  stilted  Digby  Grant.  The 
scene,  no  doubt,  was  extremely  harrowing  at  all  times,  and 
then  it  was  in  strong  contrast  to  the  theatrical  fare  of  the  day, 
which  consisted  for  the  most  part  of  cheap  melodrama,  milk 
and- water  comedies,  and  inane  burlesques.  The  death  scene 
was  also  thought  to  be  too  agonising.  But  there  was  praise 
in  more  than  the  forty  odd  papers  enumerated  by  the  manager 
who,  thanks  to  his  having  taken  the  advice  of  the  actor,  now 
found  himself  with  restored  fortunes.  One  of  the  most 
thoughtful  critics  of  that  period  was  Dutton  Cook.  He  was 
then  writing  in  the  Pall  Mall  Gazette.  He  was,  despite  a 
certain  sympathy  with  the  serious  side  of  the  actor's  work, 
rather  cold  in  style  and  measured  in  his  praise.  His  verdict 
on  the  first  performance  of  "The  Bells"  is,  therefore,  all  the 
more  interesting.  He  commended  the  vision  in  which  the 
murdered  man  is  seen  sitting  in  the  sledge,  with  Mathias 
crouching  behind,  axe  in  hand,  as  he  thought  the  figure  of 
the  second  Jew  in  the  original  a  disturbing  element.  The 
play,  he  says,  "  was  listened  to  with  the  most  breathless  at- 
tention, and  extraordinary  applause  followed  the  fall  of  the 
curtain.  How  far  it  may  secure  enduring  success  remains,  of 
course,  to  be  seen.  Our  audiences  have  been  so  long  ac- 
customed to  flimsy  exhibitions  upon  the  stage,  that  they  have 
perhaps  forgotten  that  the  British  drama  once  possessed  a 
robust  constitution  that  did  not  shrink  upon  occasion  from  the 
distressing  or  even  the  appalling.  In  any  case,  this  tragic 


1871]       "A  MASTERLY  PERFORMANCE"        119 

story  of  Alsace  is  well  worth  seeing,  not  merely  for  itself,  but 
for  the  remarkable  power  displayed  by  Mr.  Irving  in  the  part 
of  the  burgomaster.  Acting  at  once  so  intelligent  and  so 
intense  has  not  been  seen  on  the  London  stage  for  many 
years.  The  earlier  scenes  may  lack  repose  somewhat,  and 
the  vision  of  the  trial  is  certainly  protracted  unduly,  but  the 
actor  is  thoroughly  possessed  by  his  part,  and  depicts  its 
agonising  fear  and  passionate  despair  with  real  artistic  force." 
There  was  a  remarkable  unanimity  among  the  critics,  not 
only  in  regard  to  Irving's  impersonation,  but  in  regard  to  the 
length  of  the  trial  scene.  This,  however,  was  never  altered, 
as  it  was  found  that  the  spectators  in  front  of  the  curtain 
liked  its  intensity.  It  would  be  easy  to  fill  many  pages  of 
this  book  by  giving  examples  of  the  highly  favourable 
criticisms  bestowed  upon  this  first  performance  by  Henry 
Irving  of  the  character  of  Mathias.  Such  a  proceeding, 
however,  is  unnecessary,  for  all  the  notices  were  of  a  kind. 
The  Athenceum,  indeed,  blamed  the  actor  for  not  following 
in  the  footsteps  of  the  original  exponent  of  the  part,  who  made 
Mathias,  in  the  early  scenes,  a  bright,  cheery  man  giving  way 
under  depression  to  the  agony  of  fear  and  self-accusation.  It 
also  thought  him  "much  too  youthful  in  appearance  for  the 
character".  Having  said  so  much,  it  affirmed  that,  in  the 
stronger  situations,  the  actor  had  "a  ghastly  power  not  easy 
to  surpass.  There  is  no  question,"  it  continued,  "that  the 
man  who  could  give  such  portraiture  as  Mr.  Irving  afforded 
of  the  conflict  of  emotion  and  passion  has  histrionic  power 
of  the  rarest  kind."  This  was  praise  indeed.  Such  ex- 
pressions as  "marvellously  fine,"  "nothing  finer  has  been 
seen  for  years,"  "a  masterly  performance,"  "great  act- 
ing," "  histrionic  power  such  as  is  rarely  seen  upon  the 
modern  English  stage,"  and  so  forth,  appeared  over  and  over 
again  during  the  first  week  of  the  run  at  the  Lyceum. 
Irving's  tragic  impersonation  captivated  the  critics,  as  well 
as  the  audience,  by  its  intelligence  and  its  intensity.  Several 
papers  also  gave  the  manager  sound  advice  in  reference  to 
overworking  the  creator  of  Mathias.  "  Unless  Mr.  Bateman 


120     THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  vm. 

desires  to  lose  the  services  of  a  valuable  actor,"  said  the 
Observer  on  26th  November,  "he  will  soon  make  some  ar- 
rangement whereby  Mr.  Irving  is  relieved  of  the  double  duty 
of  Mathias  and  Jingle.  It  is  a  pity  to  over-drive  a  willing 
horse,  or  to  allow  the  horse  to  be  overdriven."  Another 
journal  of  weight  said  that  "  *  The  Bells  '  should  ring  in 
crowded  audiences  for  many  nights  to  come,  and  soon 
silence  the  jingle  of  such  a  theatrical  atrocity  as  'Pickwick'." 
Punch,  also,  had  something  to  say  on  the  subject.  In  con- 
cluding a  laudatory  notice,  it  said:  "  'Pickwick'  finishes  the 
entertainment  at  the  Lyceum.  Mr.  Irving  plays  Jingle. 
This,  after  Mathias,  is  an  incongruity.  It  looks  like  Kean 
'  afterwards  Clown '.  We  hear  that  some  one  else  is  to  take 
this  part  in  future ;  perhaps  the  change  has  already  been 
made.  In  any  case,  we  prefer  to  see  Mr.  Irving  play  the 
Bells  without  the  Jingle."  For  business  reasons,  no  doubt, 
this  advice  was  not  taken,  and  Irving  continued  to  play  both 
parts  for  four  months  ;  and,  when  a  change  was  made,  Irving 
acted  Jeremy  Diddler  instead  of  Jingle.  In  fairness  to  the 
memory  of  Mr.  Bateman,  it  should  be  stated  that  the  drama 
was  excellently  mounted  on  its  first  production.  There 
is  no  opportunity  for  scenic  display  in  "The  Bells,"  but 
everything  that  was  possible  was  done  to  give  a  faithful  re- 
presentation of  Alsatian  life.  Button  Cook  found  the  cos- 
tumes, stage-fittings,  and  scenery  "of  a  most  liberal  and 
costly  nature.  The  mechanical  contrivances  are  perfect." 
The  Standard  wrote :  "  Nothing  can  be  better  than  the 
careful  manner  in  which"  the  drama  "has  been  put  upon  the 
stage.  The  scenery  and  the  mechanical  effects  are  really 
excellent."  There  are  various  other  allusions  in  the  con- 
temporary press  which  show  that  the  scenery,  for  which  Mr. 
Hawes  Craven  was  chiefly  responsible,  was  excellent  of  its 
kind — if  it  did  come  to  grief  after  twelve  years  of  use,  many 
railway  journeys,  and  an  ocean  voyage,  there  is  nothing 
much  to  be  wondered  at  in  the  circumstance.  Once  the 
American  manager  had  pledged  himself  to  the  production  of 
the  play,  he  did  his  best  for  it.  Not  only  did  he  give  it 


Photo :  London  Stereoscopic  Co. 


MATHIAS, 


1871]  MATHIAS  A  "  CREATION"  121 

proper  mounting,  but  as  previously  related,  he  brought  over 
M.  Singla,  the  leader  of  the  orchestra  at  the  Theatre  Cluny, 
who  had  arranged  the  characteristic  music  of  the  play,  and 
the  company  supporting  Henry  Irving  in  his  first  tragic  essay 
in  London  was  a  thoroughly  competent  one.  Bateman  did 
his  best  in  all  these  respects. 

To  Irving,  however,  and  to  no  one  else,  belongs  the  initial 
credit  for  the  representation  of  the  drama.  If  it  had  not  been 
for  his  indomitable  will,  his  persuasive  powers,  and  his  profound 
faith  in  himself,  "The  Bells"  would  never  have  been  seen  at 
the  Lyceum  or  anywhere  else.  And,  the  opportunity  once 
gone,  it  would  have  been  many  more  weary  years  ere  the 
actor  could  have  got  a  similar  opening.  As  it  was,  he  had 
risen,  at  a  single  step,  and  ere  he  was  thirty-four  years  of 
age,  to  a  popularity  which  never  abated  during  his  future 
career,  a  popularity  which  lasted  from  1871  to  1905 — a  proud 
record  which  has  no  equal  in  the  history  of  the  great  actors 
of  the  English  stage.  In  regard  to  the  means  by  which  he 
first  attained  fame  in  the  character,  it  is  only  necessary — leav- 
ing aside,  for  the  moment,  his  other  qualifications — to  allude 
to  his  originality.  He  created  Mathias.  His  impersonation 
of  that  character  differed,  not  only  from  the  French  inter- 
preters of  the  part,  but  from  the  original  burgomaster  of 
Erckmann-Chatrian.  This  capacity  for  thinking  for  him- 
self was  one  of  his  greatest  gifts.  It  was  evident  in  all  his 
work.  Although  he  had,  on  the  stage,  to  interpret  the  words 
of  others,  he  was  always  original.  This  quality  in  his  acting 
was  strongly  in  evidence  in  his  Mathias.  In  one  of  his 
earliest  addresses  on  the  art  of  the  actor,  he  alluded  to  the 
originality  which  entitled  certain  members  of  his  profession 
to  be  considered  as  creators.  He  claimed,  for  the  properly- 
equipped  actor,  that  uhis  favourite  traditions  have  been  ar- 
rived at  long  ago  by  the  study  and  practice  of  trained  intellects, 
and  that  the  tracks  he  treads  have  been  marked  out  with  the 
best  available  skill  and  judgment,  and  are  the  survivals  of  a 
process  by  which  the  stage  is  constantly  effacing,  by  disuse, 
the  mistakes  of  former  times.  I  am  the  last  man  to  admire 


122     THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  vm. 

a  slavish  or  even  an  unthinking  adherence  to  the  interpreta- 
tions and  conceptions  of  traditions.  My  own  conviction  is 
that  there  are  few  characters  or  passages  of  our  great  drama- 
tists which  will  not  repay  original  study.  .  .  .  There  is  a  natural 
dramatic  fertility  in  every  one  who  has  the  smallest  histrionic 
gift ;  so  that,  as  soon  as  he  knows  the  author's  text  and  ob- 
tains self-possession,  and  feels  at  home  in  a  part  without  being 
too  familiar  with  it,  the  mere  automatic  action  of  rehearsing 
and  playing  it  at  once  begins  to  place  the  author  in  new  lights 
and  to  give  the  passage  being  played  an  individuality  partly 
independent  of,  and  yet  consistent  with,  and  rendering  more 
powerfully  visible,  the  dramatist's  conception.  It  is  the  vast 
power  a  good  actor  has  in  this  way  which  has  led  the  French 
to  speak  of  creating  a  part  when  they  mean  its  being  first 
played ;  and  French  authors  are  so  conscious  of  the  extent 
and  value  of  this  co-operation  of  actors  with  them  that  they 
have  never  objected  to  the  phrase,  but,  on  the  contrary,  are 
uniformly  lavish  in  their  homage  to  the  artists  who  have 
created  on  the  boards  the  parts  which  they  themselves  have 
created  on  paper."  It  can  hardly  be  contended  that  the  con- 
science-haunted murderer  of  Erckmann-Chatrian  is  a  great 
conception,  but  Mathias  was  made  a  great  character  by 
Henry  Irving's  interpretation. 

So  attractive  was  "The  Bells"  during  its  first  season  at 
the  Lyceum  that  it  was  played  one  hundred  and  fifty-one 
consecutive  times.  Not  only  did  it  fill  the  popular  parts  of 
the  house,  but  it  drew  all  literary  and  artistic  London  to 
Wellington  Street.  Among  the  many  judges  of  the  highest 
work  in  dramatic  art  who  felt  the  power  for  good  possessed 
by  the  new  actor  was  the  Earl  of  Lytton,  then  in  his  sixty-ninth 
year.  The  author  of  "  The  Lady  of  Lyons  "  and  "  Richelieu  " 
wrote  that  Irving's  personation  "was  too  admirable  not  to  be 
appreciated  by  every  competent  judge  of  art.  It  will,"  he 
continued,  "be  a  sure  good  fortune  to  any  dramatic  author  to 
obtain  his  representation  in  some  leading  part  worthy  of  his 
study  and  suited  to  his  powers."  The  actor  was  always 
proud  of  the  compliment  paid  to  him  at  this  early  stage  of  his 


1872]  <(THE  BELLS"  ON  TOUR  123 

London  career  by  Mrs.  Sartoris  (Miss  Adelaide  Kemble),1 
who  said  that  he  reminded  her  of  the  most  famous  members  of 
her  family.  She  begged  him,  with  great  earnestness,  to  de- 
vote himself  to  the  higher  walks  of  the  drama.  Despite  this 
artistic,  and  enormously  popular,  success,  Henry  Irving  was  still 
playing  in  another  piece  as  well  as  in  "  The  Bells  "  in  1872 — for, 
in  March  of  that  year,  "  Pickwick"  was  replaced  by  "  Raising 
the  Wind".  This  old  farce  by  James  Kenney — it  had  been 
first  produced  at  Covent  Garden  in  1803,  w^tn  "Gentleman" 
Lewis2  as  Jeremy  Diddler,  the  character  now  taken  by  the 
creator  of  Mathias — was  certainly  an  antidote  to  the  horrors  of 
"The  Bells,"  for  Irving's  acting  kept  the  audience  in  roars  of 
laughter.  It  was  played  until  the  last  night  of  the  season,  1 7th 
May,  1872. 

The  natural  result  of  the  great  excitement  caused  by 
Irving's  fascinating  acting  in  "The  Bells"  was  a  tour  of  the 
principal  towns  in  the  provinces,  where  he  was  received  with 
extraordinary  enthusiasm.  Some  of  the  highest  praise 
awarded  to  him  was  in  places  where  he  had  acted  in  less 
happy  days.  His  impersonation  was  received  in  Manchester 
with  great  appreciation.  The  Courier  found  that,  as  Mathias, 
he  reached  a  height  of  artistic  excellence  such  as  had  not,  in 
living  memory,  "been  approached  by  any  other  actor.  .  .  . 
It  is  impossible  to  say  that  any  one  of  Mr.  Irving's  scenes  is 
over-done,  and  it  is  worth  while  to  contemplate  the  profundity 
with  which  all  have  been  conceived  and  the  terrible  truthful- 
ness with  which  they  are  interpreted.  ...  It  will  be  gathered 
from  these  remarks  that  'The  Bells,'  if  not  a  pleasing  drama 
in  the  ordinary  acceptation  of  the  term,  supplies  a  medium 

1  Younger  daughter  of  Charles  Kemble  (1775-1854),  a  famous  Falstaff 
and  Mercutio,  and  niece  of  John  Philip  Kemble  (1757-1823),  the  great 
actor  of  the  classical,  or  declamatory,  school.     Her  sister,  Frances  Anne, 
"  Fanny  "  (1809-1893),  afterwards  Mrs.  Butler,  was  famous  as  Mrs.  Haller, 
Lady  Macbeth,  Constance,  Portia,  Queen  Katherine,  etc.     Mrs.  Sartoris 
died  in  1879,  at  tne  age  of  sixty-five. 

2  William  Thomas   Lewis    (1748-1811).     The   original   Doricourt  and 
Faulkland,  as  well  as  Jeremy  Diddler ;  deputy  manager  of  Covent  Garden, 
1782-1804;  lessee  of  the  Liverpool  theatre,  1803,  until  his  death.     Played 
a  large  number  of  comedy  parts. 


i24     THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  vm. 

whereby  a  powerful  actor  is  enabled  to  present  a  terrible  view 
of  the  consequences  inseparable  from  the  worst  of  crimes,  and 
the  excellence  of  Mr.  Irving's  acting  becomes  apparent  'only 
as  the  spectator  is  able  to  enter  into  his  views  of  the  character, 
and  to  estimate  the  skill  with  which  it  is  presented.  We  are 
ourselves  fully  impressed  with  the  belief  that  Mr.  Irving  has 
in  this  extraordinary  role  accomplished  a  triumph  in  his  art, 
the  result  of  which  will  be  recognised  hereafter  in  displays 
more  congenial  it  may  be  to  recognised  taste,  but  not  less 
powerful  in  design  and  realisation."  But  the  greatest  praise 
came  from  Liverpool,  where  he  played  Mathias  for  three 
weeks  in  the  month  of  June,  acting,  in  addition,  Jingle  during 
the  first  six  nights,  and  Jeremy  Diddler  during  the  last  week. 
He  was  rewarded  in  all  the  local  papers  with  full,  critical,  and 
most  appreciative  criticisms.  In  fact,  the  Liverpool  critics 
vied  with  each  other  in  giving  recognition  to  his  work.  The 
morning  journals  had  reviews  which  were  as  exhaustive  as  in- 
telligent, the  Daily  Post  and  the  Courier  each  giving  a  column 
of  careful  criticism.  It  is  impossible,  on  account  of  their  length, 
to  cite  more  than  a  representative  example  from  each  notice. 
The  fame  of  Irving's  great  performance  in  "The  Bells" 
having  preceded  him,  he  would  have  been  honoured  on  this 
account  alone  by  the  remarkable  demonstration  "which 
greeted  him  when  he  came  on  the  stage,"  said  the  Daily  Post, 
"even  if  he  had  not  been  one  of  the  most  popular  actors  by 
whom  Liverpool  is  visited.  He  was  destined,  however,  to 
enjoy  more  conspicuous  and  unmistakable  marks  of  success. 
After  each  act  he  was  recalled,  and  after  two  of  the  three  he 
had  to  appear  a  second  time,  so  great  was  the  enthusiasm  of 
the  audience.  This  honour,  rarely  paid  to  an  actor" — for 
calls  in  those  days  were  hardly  earned  and  seldom  granted— 
"  was  the  reward  and  due  of  a  piece  of  tragedy  almost  unique 
in  these  times,  and  scarcely  excelled  in  any  past  triumphs  of 
the  stage.  Comparisons  are  of  all  things  most  odious  to 
artists,  and  we  will,  therefore,  only  say  in  general  terms  that 
in  marvellous  intensity  and  vividness,  and  in  the  powerful 
abandon  with  which  the  tragedian's  conception  is  carried  out, 


1872]  "A  GREAT  ACTOR"  125 

only  one  or  two  performances  at  most  which  are  known  to 
this  generation  are  worthy  to  be  placed  beside  Mr.  Irving's 
Mathias.  Though  a  young  man,  this  already  famous  actor 
has  had  a  considerable  experience  of  theatrical  travel.  In  no 
town  would  he  find  a  readier  predisposition  to  believe  in  his 
achievements  than  in  Liverpool.  Even  those,  however,  who 
were  not  astonished  by  the  singular  excellence  of  his  perform- 
ance in  the  *  Two  Roses '  must  have  been  astounded  by 
the  representation  which  they  witnessed  last  night — a  repre- 
sentation by  which  with  a  single  wild  spring  Mr.  Irving  has 
leaped  into  the  highest  place  among  tragic  actors."  This  was 
only  the  commencement  of  a  long  article  which  gave  a  fine 
description  of  the  play  and  awarded  unstinted  praise  to  its 
chief  interpreter.  The  Courier  could  not  find  words  with 
which  to  praise  sufficiently  this  "  masterpiece  of  psychological 
insight  and  accurate  expression.  What  Lessing  says  of 
Shakespeare  may  be  said  of  Mr.  Irving's  Mathias,  with  this 
modification,  of  course,  that  what  the  great  poet  accomplished 
many  times,  the  actor  has  yet  achieved  only  once  :  '  He  gives 
a  living  picture  of  all  the  most  minute  and  secret  artifices  by 
which  a  feeling  steals  into  our  souls,  of  all  the  imperceptible 
advantages  which  it  there  gains,  of  all  the  stratagems  by  which 
every  other  passion  is  made  subservient  to  it,  till  it  becomes 
the  sole  tyrant  of  our  desires  and  our  aversions  '.  The  court 
scene  of  the  third  act  is  an  epitome  of  this  power — first  the 
prompting  to  the  deed  of  violence,  then  its  perpretation,  and 
finally  the  whirlwind  harvest  which  comes  in  due  season. 
This  act  alone  is  enough  to  stamp  Mr.  Irving  a  great  actor. 
Such  a  piece  of  art  does  not  come  by  inspiration  :  it  is  a  care- 
fully studied  part,  prepared  with  elaborate  attention  to  detail, 
blended  harmoniously  in  all  its  incidents,  and  controlled  from 
first  to  last  by  a  true  knowledge  of  the  feelings  and  actions 
which  such  a  situation  would  create.  There  is  nothing  false 
to  nature  or  art  in  the  impersonation  of  that  overpowering 
wretchedness  of  woe.  .  .  .  We  might  speak  of  the  earlier 
portions  of  the  drama,  and  find  points  of  commendation,  but 
the  dream  is  the  natural  climax  of  the  piece,  alike  in  acting 


126     THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  vm. 

and  construction.  It  is  the  portion  which  brings  into  strongest 
relief  Mr.  I rving's  powers,  which  are  of  high  order  in  conception 
and  expression.  His  countenance  is  a  mirror  of  the  soul ; 
every  changing  form  of  word  and  feeling  is  written  on  his 
face,  whose  mobility  and  expressiveness  are  wonderful." 

From  Mathias  to  Jeremy  Diddler  was  a  vast  change,  the 
greater  as  it  occurred  on  the  same  evening,  a  circumstance  of 
which  the  Liverpool  press  took  due  note.  The  Journal 
published  a  long  essay  on  the  part  and  I  rving's  interpretation  : 
"The  distinguishing  merit  of  his  performance,"  it  said,  "is 
that,  by  making  Jeremy  a  thorough  'character  part,'  he 
renders  intelligible  and  interesting  the  dramatic  and  personal 
consistency  of  the  more  beggarly  with  the  more  gentlemanly 
phase  of  this  queer  adventurer.  In  doing  this  Mr.  Irving  has 
availed  himself  to  the  utmost  of  the  assistance  of  dress. ' '  After 
a  learned  disquisition  on  the  subject  of  costume,  the  article 
proceeds :  "  Mr.  Irving  seizes  the  right  notion  in  aiming  at 
the  strong  development  of  Diddler's  character  as  a  wildly 
peculiar  adventurer.  He  puts  together  short  sight,  fidgetty 
gait,  intense  coolness  when  doing  most  daring  things,  great 
readiness  and  magnificence  of  language,  endless  fertility  in 
practical  jokes  and  constant  forgetfulness  that  his  pockets 
are  full  of  stolen  provisions  ;  and  with  these  he  makes  one  of 
the  most  extraordinary  pictures  ever  conceived.  A  mere 
swindler  he  is  not.  He  is  a  genius  in  impetuous  and  reckless 
social  adventure.  To  conceive  such  a  man  being  endured 
for  an  instant  in  any  one's  house,  you  must  imagine  him  to  be 
so  strange  and  fascinating  an  eccentric  that  no  one  can  quite 
believe  him  to  be  a  swindler,  and  this  is  just  the  fellow  that 
Mr.  Irving  represents  with  great  address  and  abundant  in- 
ventiveness. The  most  humourous  bit  of  action  is  the 
perpetual  throwing  open  of  other  people's  coats.  The  artistic 
way  that  Mr.  Irving  does  this — surveying  the  frontispiece  of 
every  man's  costume  with  the  eye  of  a  'connoisseur,'  ap- 
proaching it,  touching  it,  trying  it,  and,  finally,  with  a  dexterous 
touch,  throwing  the  coat  open  and  leaving  the  waistcoat  bare, 
producing  as  many  various  pictures  as  there  are  subjects  for 


I872] 


JEREMY  DIDDLER 


127 


the  operation — is  intensely  funny.  Why,  it  would  be  difficult 
to  say.  The  problem  would  have  to  be  referred  to  the 
philosopher,  Herbert  Spencer,  who  wrote  a  chapter  on  the 
reason  why  we  laugh  at  a  baby  with  a  man's  hat  on.  But 
of  the  fact  there  is  no  doubt.  The  trick  seems  more  laughable 
every  time  Mr.  Irving  plays  it." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

1872-1873. 

"  Charles  the  First  "  produced — "  A  very  awkward  lump  in  the  throat " 
for  the  Standard — Controversy  about  the  character  of  Cromwell — Irving's 
impersonation  of  the  king  extolled  on  all  sides — The  author's  defence — 
The  play  published — The  Spectator  eulogises  Irving's  impersonation — The 
Prince  and  Princess  of  Wales  witness  "  Charles  the  First  " — Extraordinary 
scenes  in  consequence — Irving  appears  as  Eugene  Aram — Another  personal 
success — More  critical  eulogy — Especially  from  the  Spectator — End  of 
Irving's  second  season  at  the  Lyceum — Remarkable  enthusiasm — Plays 
"Charles  the  First"  on  tour. 

THE  instantaneous  and  pronounced  popular  and  artistic  suc- 
cess made  by  Henry  Irving  in  "The  Bells"  placed  the  actor 
in  a  proud,  an  interesting,  and  yet  a  singularly  difficult,  posi- 
tion. He  had  leaped  into  fame,  and  although  he  was  not  yet 
hailed  as  the  regenerator  of  the  stage,  it  was  felt  that  the 
drama  had  now,  not  only  an  earnest  student  of  its  most  serious 
side,  but  an  exponent  of  it  who  might  reach  the  highest  limits 
of  his  art.  The  power  to  dominate  and  thrill  the  playgoer,  not 
only  of  London,  but  the  provinces,  had  been  amply  de- 
monstrated. And  this  power,  to  the  extent  which  Irving 
possessed,  and  exercised  it,  is  the  gift  of  only  one  man  in  several 
generations.  But  the  purely  psychological  study  of  Mathias 
was  hardly,  to  many  minds,  the  proper  prelude  to  the  dignity 
of  the  "  Royal  Martyr,"  no  matter  how  the  character  of 
Charles  the  First  might  be  depicted  by  the  dramatist.  A 
man  who  had  murdered  for  greed  of  gold,  and  had  become  so 
conscious-stricken  that  the  sound  of  sleigh-bells  paralysed  his 
senses,  was  a  curious  way  of  approaching  the  dignity  of  the 
traditional  King.  London  theatre-goers  and  critics  still  thought 
of  Irving  as  an  impersonator  of  bad  and  disagreeable  men 

in  general  and  of  villains  in  particular.     They  had  no  know- 

128 


1872]  -CHARLES  THE  FIRST'  129 

ledge  of  the  versatility  which  he  had  displayed  in  his  earlier 
days  on  the  stage.  If  Londoners  had  known  that  he  had  acted 
Claude  Melnotte,  they  would  have  smiled  at  the  bare  idea. 
As  for  Hamlet — well,  yes,  he  might  have  experimented  in 
the  part  for  a  joke,  on  the  occasion  of  his  benefit — for  actors 
were  allowed  full  licence  to  play  any  pranks  which  pleased 
them  on  such  a  night.  The  idea  was  not  to  be  taken  seri- 
ously. Yet,  in  two  years  from  this  period,  he  was  to  begin, 
at  the  Lyceum,  a  series  of  representations  of  Hamlet  which 
has  never  been  approached  in  the  history  of  the  tragedy. 
On  28th  September,  1872,  the  idea  of  his  acting  "Charles 
the  First"  was  not  inspiring,  even  to  his  many  friends 
among  the  public.  Up  to  that  time,  the  "  unhappy  king"  was 
unknown  as  a  stage  figure,  and  there  was  as  much  curiosity 
to  see  how  W.  G.  Wills  had  treated  the  subject  as  there  was 
in  regard  to  the  interpretation  of  the  character  by  the  new 
actor.  As  for  the  play,  its  domestic  nature  soon  touched  the 
audience,  and  the  pathetic  personation  of  the  king  completed 
the  alluring  picture.  The  majority  of  the  spectators  were  in 
tears  at  more  than  one  part  of  the  play,  and  the  final  scene 
reduced  the  entire  house  to  weeping.  Even  the  stolid  Stand- 
an/had  to  "confess  to  a  very  awkward  lump  in  the  throat 
about  this  time,"  and  another  sober-minded  journal  opined  that 
"those  who  love  what  the  ladies  call  'a  good  cry'  cannot  do 
better  than  hurry  off  to  the  Lyceum  with  a  goodly  supply  of 
pocket-handkerchiefs  ".  This  is  a  common-place  kind  of  com- 
ment, but  it  suggests  the  thought  that  many,  many  thousands 
of  people  must  have  wept  over  this  beautiful  scene — it  has 
touched  the  hearts  of  all  who  witnessed  it  in  London,  in  the 
country,  in  America.  Henry  Irving  never  failed  in  it,  and  he 
acted  it,  with  exquisite  pathos,  until  the  end  of  his  career. 

Had  Mr.  Bateman  been  so  minded,  he  could  now  have 
published  the  names  of  a  longer  list  of  papers  which  gave 
favourable  notices  than  in  the  case  of  "The  Bells".  Again, 
the  praise  was  more  for  the  actor  than  the  play.  The  critics 
fell  foul  of  the  author  for  his  treatment  of  the  character  of  Crom- 
well, but  this  was  all  to  the  advantage  of  the  theatre,  for  it 

VOL.  i.  9 


130        THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  ix. 

was  so  much  cheap  advertisement.  The  extraordinary  scene 
in  the  last  act  in  which  Cromwell  hints  that  he  will  befriend 
the  king,  provided  that  the  earldom  of  Essex  may  descend 
to  him,  excited  much  discussion,  as  well  it  might.  Mr.  Wills 
availed  himself  to  the  fullest  extent  of  the  " poet's  licence," 
and  he  caused  it  to  be  stated  on  the  programme  that  "the 
author  feels  it  to  be  unnecessary  to  confess  or  enumerate 
certain  historical  inaccuracies  as  to  period  and  place  which 
have  arisen  from  sheer  dramatic  necessity,  and  are  justified, 
he  believes,  by  the  highest  precedent ".  The  author  defended 
himself  most  vigorously,  and  he  wrote  a  long  "justification" 
of  his  action  to  the  Morning  Post,  beginning  with  the  reflec- 


CHARLES  THE  FIRST. 


First  acted  at  the  Lyceum 

CHARLES  I. 

OLIVER  CROMWELL     - 

MARQUIS  or  HUNTLEY 

LORD  MORAY 

IRETON 

PAGES 

PRINCESS  ELIZABETH  - 

PRINCE  JAMES     - 

PRINCE  HENRY    - 

LADY  ELEANOR  DAVYS 

QUEEN  HENRIETTA  MARIA 


on  28th  September,  1872. 

Mr.  HENRY  IRVING. 

Mr.  GEORGE  BELMORE. 

Mr.  ADDISON. 

Mr.  EDGAR. 

Mr.  MARKBY. 

Misses  E.  MAYNE  and J.  HENRI. 

Miss  WILLA  BROWN. 

Miss  ALLCROFT. 

Miss  WELCH. 

Miss  G.  PAUNCEFORT. 

Miss  ISABEL  BATEMAN. 


ACT  I.  Gardens  at  Hampton  Court.  ACT  II.  The  King's 
Cabinet  at  Whitehall.  ACT  III.  The  Scottish  Camp  at 
Newark.  ACT  IV.  Whitehall,  at  Daybreak. 


tion  that  "the  character  of  Cromwell  may  bear  a  little 
good-humoured  discussion  without  alarming  his  most  jealous 
admirers".  In  regard  to  the  "obnoxious  interview"  between 
the  king  and  Cromwell,  "  I  have  only  endeavoured  to  paint 
the  humble  yet  influential  burgess  of  Cambridge — not  the 
Protector ;  whose  sagacity  was  in  effect  almost  equivalent  to 
principle  and  whose  outrageous  despotism  grew  to  a  sort  of 
grandeur".  He  also  pointed  out  a  somewhat  obvious  fact— 
"the  play  is  of  Charles,  and  not  of  Cromwell".  This  discus- 
sion, which  anticipated  the  methods  of  modern  days,  did  no 
harm  to  the  popularity  of  the  piece,  although  that  was  secured 
by  the  impersonation  of  the  king.  The  drama  drew  crowded 


1872]  THE  PLAY  PUBLISHED  131 

houses  for  eight  months,  or,  to  speak  with  perfect  accuracy, 
for  one  hundred  and  eighty  nights — a  remarkable  record  for 
a  poetical  and  a  sad  piece.  After  the  first  performance, 
there  was  an  enthusiastic  call  for  the  author.  "  Mr.  Irving 
explained  that  he  was  not  in  the  house,  and  promised  to  con- 
vey to  him  the  cordial  reception  given  to  his  noble  play" — 
an  expression  which  he  so  frequently  applied,  in  after  years, 
to  "Becket". 

Soon  after  the  production,  the  "  historical  tragedy,"  as  it 
was  called  by  its  author,  was  published  by  the  firm  of  William 
Blackwood  and  Sons,  at  half  a  crown — a  tribute  to  the 
literary  interest  of  the  piece.  In  his  introduction  to  the  book, 
the  editor  called  attention  to  the  low  state  into  which  the  stage 
had  fallen  and  from  which  it  was  being  rescued  :  "  The  first 
emancipation  of  the  modern  English  stage  from  the  French 
stage  was  effected  by  the  means  of  short  original  comedies, 
in  which  the  transient  habits  of  this  country  were,  with  more 
or  less  accuracy,  portrayed.  But  even  those  who  rejoiced  in 
the  moderate  reform  thus  far  carried  out  refused  to  believe 
that  it  tended  towards  the  revival  of  a  drama  at  once  national 
and  poetical.  The  English  drawing-room  and  the  English 
croquet-ground  might  indeed  be  exhibited  with  all  their  de- 
tails, and  fine  ladies  and  gentlemen  figuring  therein  might 
indulge  in  good  English  repartee.  But  as  far  as  tragic  drama, 
or  anything  that  approached  it,  that  had  gone  for  ever. 
Under  these  circumstances,  it  was  but  natural  that  the  pro- 
duction of  *  Charles  the  First '  at  the  Lyceum  Theatre  took 
every  one  by  surprise.  An  historical  tragedy,  it  had  been  re- 
ceived not  with  cold  approbation — had  attained  not  what  our 
neighbours  call  a  *  succes  d'estime ' — but  it  had  evidently  ap- 
pealed to  the  sympathies  of  the  public  more  strongly  than  any 
new  poetical  work  brought  out  within  the  memory  of  living 
men.  People  not  generally  used  to  the  melting  mood  felt  them- 
selves compelled  to  shed  tears,  not  over  the  woes  of  some  half- 
comic  paterfamilias  in  a  domestic  tale,  but  over  the  sorrows  of 
a  king  who  perished  considerably  more  than  two  centuries  ago. 
,  ,  ,  When  the  appearance  of  a  new  author  is  simultaneous 

9* 


i32        THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  ix. 

with  the  rise  of  an  actor  who  can  give  reality  to  his  imaginings, 
the  coincidence  is  most  felicitous.  The  chroniclers  of  our 
stage  still  dwell  on  the  good  fortune  of  William  Shakespeare 
in  being  the  contemporary  of  Richard  Burbage.  It  is  not  the 
least  merit  of  Mr.  Wills  that  he  has  created  a  character 
which  has  first  allowed  full  development  to  the  genius  of  Mr. 
Henry  Irving."  The  compliment  thus  paid  to  Mr.  Wills's  in- 
terpreter was  much  more  richly  deserved  than  in  the  case  of 
his  predecessor. 

For  "  Charles  the  First,"  although  it  contains  many  ex- 
quisite passages  and  many  lines  of  poetic  feeling  and  literary 
elegance,  is  a  succession  of  isolated  tableaux  rather  than  a 
play.  It  depends  entirely  on  the  impersonation  of  the  king 
for  its  popular  success.  A  good  company  and  adequate 
scenery  are  useful  adjuncts,  but  the  part  of  Charles  and  the 
player  thereof  are  so  interwoven  that  they  are  one.  If  the 
actor  fails,  then  the  play  must  go  to  the  wall.  But  Henry 
Irving  did  not  fail  either  in  1872  or  on  any  other  occasion 
when  he  acted  this  part.  His  first  performance  of  this  char- 
acter received  even  a  warmer  welcome  than  that  with  which 
Mathias  was  greeted.  There  was  nothing  terrorising,  as  in 
the  case  of  "  The  Bells,"  either  in  the  play  or  the  performance. 
The  death  scene  was  dignified  and  infinitely  pathetic,  a  great 
contrast  to  the  horror  of  that  of  Mathias.  The  faithful 
chronicler  is  embarrassed  in  looking  over  the  contemporary 
criticisms  of  this  performance.  Of  all  the  notices  which  ap- 
peared at  that  time — there  were  long  articles  in  all  the 
daily  and  weekly  papers  of  value — the  most  illuminating, 
perhaps,  was  that  in  the  Spectator,  which  published  a  most 
discriminating  essay  on  the  subject.  Where  all  are  so 
good,  from  every  point  of  view,  it  is  a  little  difficult  to  select 
the  right  criticism,  but  the  paper  in  question  represented  the 
case  quite  fairly.  It  took  the  author  to  task  for  his  historical 
inaccuracies  and  rated  him  for  the  abuse  of  what  he  called 
the  " sheer  dramatic  necessity"  of  the  moment.  Having 
stated  its  own  views  on  this  point,  it  described  the  perform- 
ance, dwelling  mainly  upon  the  chief  character  as  "  person- 


1872]     PRAISE  FROM  THE  SPECTATOR         133 

ated  by  Mr.  Irving,  who  looks  as  if  he  had  stepped  off  the 
canvas,  now  of  Rubens  anon  of  Vandyck — a  magnanimous, 
gallant,  chivalrous,  right  royal  king,  loving  to  his  people, 
faithful  to  his  friends,  pious  and  patriotic,  passionately  de- 
voted to  his  wife  and  children,  as  firmly  attached  to  his  duties 
as  to  his  rights.  Accepting  this  utterly  unhistorical  picture, 
we  follow  Mr.  Irving's  impersonation  with  the  interest  and 
admiration  it  is  calculated  to  inspire,  through  several  scenes 
of  unequal,  but  always  considerable  merit.  The  garden 
scene  at  Hampton  Court  is  very  impressive.  The  peace- 
fulness  of  its  familiar  beauty,  contemplated  for  a  little,  while 
the  stage  is  yet  empty,  awakens  exactly  the  yearning,  re- 
monstrating regret  for  the  foreknown  interruption  of  its  peace, 
the  ruin  of  its  old  traditions,  which  ought  to  be  aroused  before 
the  monarch,  fresh  from  the  arbitrary  exercise  of  power 
which  ruptured  the  sacred  pact  between  King  and  Commons, 
enters,  in  the  black-satin  suit,  graceful  cloak,  and  rich  collar  and 
ruffles  of  Spanish  lace,  with  the  long  rippling,  pale  brown 
hair,  the  peaked  beard,  and  the  doomed  look  so  familiar  to 
us  all.  The  effect  of  Mr.  Irving's  entrance  as  the  king  with 
the  royal  children,  who  are  dressed  from  Vandyck's  family 
group,  is  perfect.  The  scene  with  the  children  is  quite 
beautiful.  The  King  throws  off  his  weariness  and  depression, 
and  plays  with  them,  repeating  the  ballad  of  King  Lear- 
while  his  wife  impatiently  urges  him  to  attend  to  his  business— 
with  exquisite  natural  tenderness  and  sweetness,  talking  to 
them  with  little  touches  in  the  dialogue  which  do  great  credit 
to  the  author  and  his  interpreter.  Very  fine,  too,  is  the 
king's  interview  with  Huntley,  who  has  brought  him  bad 
news,  and  offers  him  good  advice.  There  is  a  great  deal  of 
genuinely  good  writing  in  this  dialogue,  and  the  king's  lament 
for  the  change  which  has  come  over  the  relations  between 
sovereign  and  people,  holding  them  so  far  apart,  is  note- 
worthy, and  very  finely  delivered.  .  .  .  Mr.  Wills  s  Charles 
is  perpetually  hugging  Henrietta  Maria  in  everybody's 
presence,  and  it  is  not  the  least  significant  of  the  many 
proofs  of  Mr.  Irving's  consummate  art,  that  the  audience 


i34       THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  ix. 

takes  these  proceedings  quite  gravely.  Not  a  titter  from  the 
gallery  turns  this  '  business '  into  the  ridiculous,  and  this  is  not 
because  the  audience  is  deeply  impressed  by  the  intrinsic 
solemnity  of  the  piece,  for  they  laugh  unhesitatingly  at  an 
awful  crisis,  when  the  little  Duke  of  York  makes  the  historic 
reply  to  his  father's  solemn  injunction,  in  a  shrill,  pretty,  piping 
cry.  It  is  because  Mr.  Irving's  acting  is  so  fine  that  the 
escape  from  the  absurd,  though  narrow,  is  complete. 

"  Here  we  have  Charles,  full  of  love  for  his  wife,  and  of 
consideration  for  her,  alive  to  the  growing  dislike  and  distrust 
of  her  in  the  public  mind,  so  swayed  by  it,  that  he  offends  her 
by  the  dismissal  of  her  suite,  and  gravely  warns  her  against 
the  lightest  indiscretion.  The  same  chivalrous  devotion  char- 
acterises him  in  the  second  act ;  and  in  the  third,  when  he 
is  betrayed  and  sold  by  the  Scottish  lords  and  taken  prisoner 
by  Cromwell  at  Newark,  his  passionate  pleading  for  the  ful- 
filment of  Moray's  promise,  the  grandeur  and  pathos  of  his 
address  to  the  traitor,  are  equalled  by  the  intensity  of  his 
solicitude  for  his  wife,  and  the  anguish  of  his  regret  for  his 
friends.  The  words  which  Aytoun  puts  into  the  mouth  of 
Charles's  grandson  : — 

Oh,  the  brave,  the  noble-hearted, 
Who  have  died  in  vain  for  me ! 

come  to  one's  mind  with  the  mere  look  of  the  wan  face,  and 
the  burning  woeful  eyes.  So  far,  the  framework  of  history 
has  been  preserved  sufficiently  to  keep  this  fancy  portrait  of 
the  King  from  distortion.  But  how  does  it  come  out  in  the 
fourth  act,  in  which  we  have  to  test  the  validity  of  Mr.  Wills's 
plea  of  *  dramatic  necessity  '  by  either  of  its  possible  meanings  ? 
The  Queen  has  returned  to  England,  comes  to  Whitehall, 
has  a  fruitless  interview  with  Cromwell  on  the  morning  of  the 
day  fixed  for  the  execution  of  Charles,  is  present  at  the  famous 
parting  between  him  and  his  children,  on  which  ensues  a 
solemn,  agonising,  farewell  scene  between  the  wretched 
husband  and  wife,  and  Charles  goes  out  to  the  scaffold,  his 
last  word  being  the  historic  '  remember '.  We  freely  grant  that 


1872]  PATHETIC  ACTING  135 

the  closing  scene  is  beautiful,  but  we  believe  that  the  real 
closing  scene  was  infinitely  more  so,  and  that  Mr.  Wills  has 
lost  dramatic  effect  by  the  change,  besides  having  destroyed 
the  unity  of  his  great  central  character.  Let  it  be  said  at 
once  that  what  Mr.  Irving  has  to  represent,  he  represents  to 
absolute  perfection ;  that  the  farewell  scene  with  the  children 
is  so  dreadfully,  so  agonisingly  pathetic,  so  simply  beautiful, 
that  it  is  hardly  bearable ;  and  that  the  pictorial  effect  of  the 
farewell  to  the  wife  is  wonderfully  fine.  As  she  stands  in  his 
arms,  the  King's  hands  grasp  the  Queen's  head,  bending  it 
backwards  with  fingers  sunken  in  the  hair  upon  the  temples, 
and  his  eyes  devour  her  face  with  greedy  love,  and  grief,  in 
which  the  joy  of  the  past,  the  anguish  of  the  present,  the  re- 
luctant dread  of  the  future  are  all  visible.  But  Charles  is 
going  to  die,  she  has  to  live ;  he  is  leaving  her  hated  by  the 
people  as  he  never  was,  the  foreign  papist  woman  made  a  pre- 
text by  his  enemies  throughout  (and  more  strongly  insisted  on 
in  that  light  in  the  play  than  in  history),  quite  defenceless, 
with  the  tradition  of  murder  in  her  own  country  and  in  his, 
to  quicken  his  sensibilities  now  slumbering  for  the  first  time, 
as  to  her  fate.  His  beautiful,  touching,  eloquent  address  to 
her,  full  of  exquisitely  subtle  traits,  might  have  been  spoken 
had  he  been  leaving  her  in  perfect  security,  to  the  indulgence 
of  the  grief  he  covets,  for  whose  continuance,  in  softened  form 
of  sweet  memory,  he  prays  in  words  and  tones  which  wring 
the  heart." 

The  play  and  its  interpretation  drew  the  town  from  the 
very  first.  On  the  morning  after  the  production,  the  Observer 
declared  that  "  the  public  will  hurry  to  the  Lyceum  when  Mr. 
Irving's  last  and  incomparably  best  performance  gets  noised 
abroad.  The  actor  took  us  all  by  surprise.  We  had  known 
him  as  a  first-rate  character  actor,  and  as  a  terrible  imper- 
sonator of  ghastly  and  terrible  scenes.  We  remember  well 
his  Digby  Grant,  his  Mr.  Chevenix,  and  his  Mathias,  and 
some  fancied  either  the  necessary  mannerisms  of  one  set  of 
characters,  or  the  superhuman  efforts  required  for  others, 
would  to  a  certain  extent  mar  his  style.  Never  was  a  greater 


136       THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  ix. 

mistake."  The  Morning  Post,  in  the  course  of  lavish  praise, 
said  that  he  had  now  "  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  the 
school  of  character  actors".  Moreover,  ''there  were  no  re- 
miniscences of  any  former  character  in  Mr.  Irving's  Charles- 
it  was  an  original  creation  upon  which  he  may  safely  base  his 
claim  to  be  considered  as  a  representative  actor  of  the 
highest  class  ".  This  was  good,  but  the  Standard  was  even 
more  emphatic :  "  A  more  complete  and  more  deserved 
triumph  has  rarely  if  ever  been  gained,  and  by  this  perfect, 
and  perfectly  artistic  realisation  of  an  historical  character  so 
familiar  to  all,  and  therefore  so  difficult  to  portray,  Mr.  Irving 
has  unquestionably  asserted  his  right  to  take  the  foremost 
place  among  the  tragedians  of  the  day,  and  an  abiding  record 
among  the  distinguished  names  associated  with  the  English 
stage.  To  Mr.  Irving's  playing  alone  went  up  such  shouts  as 
only  English  throats  can  send  forth.  The '  calls '  at  the  termina- 
tion were  uproarious  in  their  warmth,  and  the  vehemence 
which  ardent  approbation  lent  to  hands  and  tongues  needs 
other  words  than  are  in  our  vocabulary  to  express."  There 
is  scarcely  a  word  in  all  the  columns  of  congratulations  which 
Irving's  acting  as  Charles  called  forth  about  "mannerisms". 
They  had  gone  by  the  board — in  fact,  they  were  largely  the 
creation  and  imagination  of  jealousy.  They  had  not,  at  this 
time,  been  discovered  to  the  fearful  and  wonderful  extent 
which,  we  are  to  suppose,  according  to  some  writers,  marred 
his  acting  from  the  first.  In  short,  Irving's  impersonation 
was,  in  1872,  as  it  was  in  1905,  one  of  the  most  beautiful  and 
pathetic  pieces  of  acting  which  the  English  stage  has  ever 
seen. 

Other  circumstances,  in  addition  to  the  merits  of  the 
drama  and  the  acting,  helped  in  the  success  of  the  first  run  of 
"Charles  the  First".  On  Monday,  22nd  October,  the  Prince 
and  Princess  of  Wales  visited  the  Lyceum.  The  occasion 
was  noted  at  length  by  the  press,  for  there  was  curiosity  to 
known  how  such  a  royalist  drama  would  be  received  on  such  a 
night.  One-third  of  the  audience,  according  to  the  Standard, 
"were  staunch  royalists,  about  a  half  were  interested  in  the 


TSya]  A  ROYAL  VISIT  137 

play,  and  not  in  politics  present  or  past,  and  only  a  small 
minority  were  devoted  Liberals,  jealous  of  every  touch  that 
seemed  to  blot  the  fair  fame  of  the  Radical  idol.  When  the 
Prince  and  Princess  arrived,  just  before  the  commencement 
of  the  piece,  they  were  received  in  the  usual  loyal  and  un- 
demonstrative manner ;  and  all  went  quietly  enough  until  the 
second  act.  The  touching  picture  on  the  lawn  of  Hampton 
Court  was  appreciated,  no  doubt,  and  the  acting  was  recog- 
nised and  applauded  as  it  deserved.  It  was,  however,  in  the 
second  act  that  the  excitement,  as  usual,  began.  The  Queen 
arranges  with  Lord  Huntley  that  if  danger  threatens  the  King 
in  the  interview  in  his  cabinet  with  imperious  Oliver  she  shall 
call  'the  loyal  gentlemen  of  Lincoln's  Inn  to  the  rescue,'  with 
a  cry  of  *  God  save  the  King'.  '  It  is  an  honest  signal,'  says 
the  Marquis,  and  then  one  or  two  loyalists  made  a  little  ap- 
plause. Some  of  the  same  party  seemed  to  find  an  allusion 
to  the  present  time  in  Charles's  speech  to  Cromwell  :— 

Lord  Huntley  often  has  commended  you 
As  one  who  shows  high  promise  of  the  statesman, 
And  who  with  lusty  speech  can  rule  a  throng, 
Holding  their  passions  in  his  hands  like  reins. 

But  it  was  not  until  Cromwell's  rudeness  produces  from  the 
indignant  King  the  protest  :— 

Tis  not  for  you  to  limit  or  set  forth, 
The  rights  divine  of  an  anointed  King — 

that  there  came  at  once  both  cheers  and  hissing,  the  former, 
however,  mightily  predominating.  The  Liberals  had  their 
turn  at  cheering  Cromwell's  demand  : — 

A  people's  rights ;  and  are  they  not  divine  ? 

But  the  hissing  of  the  minority  was  drowned  in  the  loyal 
shouting  when  the  representative  of  Charles  replied  :— 

The  people's  rights,  Sir,  are  indeed  divine, 
Not  so  the  wrong  of  rebels. 


138       THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING    [CHAP.  ix. 

Hast  thou  no  reverence 

For  the  marble  pile  of  England's  past  ? 

Oh,  Sir,  'tis  such  as  thou  deface  the  fairest 

Monuments  of  history  ;  inscribing  with  coarse  sacrilege 

Their  names  on  its  most  sacred  tablets, 

Scarring  beauty  it  took  centuries  to  make, 

And  but  an  hour  to  mar. 

The  manner  in  which  this  was  cheered  till  the  house  rang 
again  was  a  thing  to  remember.  But  perhaps  the  climax 
came  when  the  King  says,  after  learning  Cromwell's  demand 
for  the  reversion  of  the  earldom  of  Essex  :— 

Methinks  I  see  a  modern  Attila, 

One  who,  if  once  our  dynasty  should  wane, 

Would  rally  to  the  front  with  iron  baton  ; 

A  tyrant,  maundering  and  merciless, 

Anarch  of  liberty,  at  heart  a  slave, 

A  scourge  the  Commons  plait  to  lash  themselves, 

A  heel  to  tramp  their  constitution  under  foot — 

for  then  the  audience  made  the  allusion  fit  somebody,  and 
almost  equal  was  the  applause  when  Cromwell  was  fain  to  doff 
his  hat  by  order  of  the  King.  Not  less  full  was  the  full  ap- 
preciation of  the  home  thrust  :— 

Thou  and  thy  dupes  have  driven  me  to  war. 

But  when  the  Queen  burst  in  to  save  the  King  at  the  head 
of  the  loyal  gentlemen  of  Lincoln's  Inn,  to  the  cry  of  '  God 
save  the  King,'  it  was  curious  to  see  how  two-thirds  of  the 
listeners  were  like  greyhounds  in  the  slips,  straining  upon  the 
start." 

Early  in  the  year  1873,  Victorien  Sardou's  play,  "Sam" 
was  interdicted  by  the  then  minister  of  the  Fine  Arts  in  Paris, 
a  circumstance  which  enabled  one  of  our  leader  writers  to 
pour  forth  the  vials  of  his  wrath  upon  the  unfortunate  Wills. 
He  contrasted  the  wretched  state  of  our  laws  in  regard  to 
stage  plays  with  those  of  the  French.  He  could  not,  unhappily, 
foresee  that  the  playwrights  of  England — to  the  incredible 
number  of  seventy  odd — would,  thirty-five  years  later  band 
together  to  protest  against  the  iniquity  of  the  Examiner  of 
Plays,  or  that  a  weak  Secretary  of  State  would  amuse  the 


Esq. 


CHARLES  THE  FIRST. 


1872]  PROSPERITY  OF  THE  PLAY  139 

Japanese,  in  the  year  of  grace  1907,  by  prohibiting  the  per- 
formance of  an  innocent  piece  like  "The  Mikado"  just  be- 
cause a  Japanese  official  of  high  degree  happened  to  be 
visiting  England.  However,  this  is  what  the  irate  leader- 
writer  said:  "Our  dramatic  writers  are  free  to  play  ducks 
and  drakes  with  the  susceptibilities  of  every  nation,  including 
our  own ;  and  when  we  have  a  play  produced  that  seriously, 
if  not  intentionally,  burlesques  and  insults  one  of  the  noblest 
characters  and  one  of  the  greatest  periods  in  English  history, 
the  public  is  not  greatly  put  out.  We  are  not  deeply  disturbed 
by  the  fact  that  a  certain  playwright  chooses  to  exhibit  a 
little  perversity  of  sentiment  and  a  good  deal  of  ignorance. 
We  go  to  see  an  actor  in  a  big  wig  play  some  pretty  domestic 
charades  with  one  or  two  children,  and  if  he  should,  in  subse- 
quent scenes,  talk  a  vast  deal  of  nonsense  in  an  affected  style 
of  elocution,  who  is  hurt  by  it?  "  Nevertheless,  Charles  pros- 
pered exceedingly  at  the  Lyceum. 

It  is  only  necessary  to  say,  in  regard  to  the  general  per- 
formance, that  Irving  had  good  support  in  the  Queen  Henri- 
etta of  Miss  Isabel  Bateman  who,  on  the  whole,  was  warmly 
praised  by  the  press  for  her  intelligent  performance.  But  the 
Oliver  Cromwell  gave  him  little  help.  This  was  not  the  fault 
of  the  actor,  for,  being  a  low  comedian,  he  was  wrongly  cast 
for  the  character  of  the  bluff  burgess  of  Wills 's  play.  This 
mistake  was  soon  recognised  by  the  management,  and  Mr. 
Henry  Forrester  was  playing  the  part  when  the  Prince  and 
Princess  of  Wales  witnessed  the  drama  during  the  first  month 
of  the  run.  Mr.  Hawes  Craven  was  again  responsible  for  the 
chief  part  of  the  scenery.  It  should  also  be  recorded  that  the 
Cromwell  discussion  was  also  incidentally  instrumental  in  the 
production,  at  the  Queen's  Theatre,  in  December,  1872,  of  a 
five-act  play  by  Colonel  Bates  Richards  entitled  "Cromwell," 
in  which  the  Protector  was  canonised.  But  the  glorification 
process  did  not  pay,  and  the  play  was  an  ignominious  failure, 
despite  the  ability  and  pathos  of  Mr.  George  Rignold  as 
Cromwell  and  the  acting  of  John  Ryder  and  Miss  Wallis. 
The  piece  would  never  have  been  played  had  it  not  been  for 


140       THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  ix. 

the  production  of  "  Charles  the  First,"  to  which  it  was  brought 
out  as  a  counterblast.  A  curious  result  of  the  success  of 
"  Charles  the  First "  was  pointed  out  by  the  admiring  yet  inde- 
pendent critic  of  a  paper  which  had  given  Henry  Irving  much 
encouragement  in  his  younger  days — the  Liverpool  Porcupine, 
which  summed  up  the  situation  in  a  few  words  :  "  Mr.  Henry 
Irving  has  accomplished  a  proud  feat.  He  has  made  the 
critics  speak  in  one  voice.  Gushers,  growlers,  enthusiasts  and 
sneerers  all  have  united  in  pronouncing  Mr.  Irving's  Charles 
the  First  the  finest  and  best  dramatic  impersonation  of  the 
present  day.  Such  loud-spoken  praise  would  be  dangerous 
to  some  actors,  but  Mr.  Irving,  with  his  fine  artistic  apprecia- 
tion of  men  and  things,  will  wear  his  honours  becomingly,  and 
not  allow  himself  to  be  carried  away  by  a  torrent  of  tempestu- 
ous praise.  I  have  endeavoured — cynic  that  I  am- — to  pick  a 
hole  in  Mr.  Irving's  impersonation,  but  I  cannot  do  it,  and  for 
once  in  a  way  the  critics  are  right.  Charles  the  First  almost 
lives  over  again,  and  we  rejoice  over  the  fact.  Not  that  his 
resuscitation  would  be  particularly  welcome  to  Mr.  Gladstone 
and  his  Cabinet,  but  purely  and  simply  that  it  gives  modern 
playgoers  the  opportunity  of  witnessing  a  great  dramatic  and 
artistic  achievement." 

Having  now  succeeded  in  the  creation  of  two  absolutely 
dissimilar  parts,  in  which  he  had  won  the  instant  and  thorough 
recognition  of  the  press  and  the  public,  he  essayed  a  third 
character  in  which  he  was  at  a  disadvantage.  By  the  wish 
of  the  manager,  his  next  part  was  Eugene  Aram,  in  a 
drama  specially  written  for  the  Lyceum  by  the  author  of 
"Charles  the  First".  The  subject  was  bound  to  be  gloomy, 
and  the  second  murderer  followed  hard  upon  the  first— 
Mathias.  Soon  after  the  appearance  of  Lord  Lytton's  novel 
in  1831,  various  stage  versions  appeared,  but  without  success, 
and  none  of  these  was  familiar  to  the  public  of  1873.  But 
the  book  was  well  known,  and  Hood's  poem  was  a  favourite 
with  readers  and  reciters.  So  that  there  was  little  in  the  way 
of  novelty  with  which  to  tempt  the  playgoer.  The  author 
certainly  relied  upon  himself,  and  his  treatment  of  the  story 


i873] 


EUGENE  ARAM 


141 


was  something  of  a  surprise,  for  some  of  the  audience  anti- 
cipated a  melodrama  highly  spiced  with  visible  assassination, 
with  the  reproduction  of  a  real  criminal  court,  and,  perhaps,  a 
procession  to  the  gallows.  But  Mr.  Wills  did  not  indulge 
the  spectators  with  a  murder  either  on  the  stage,  or  off,  and 
there  was  not  a  trial,  let  alone  a  scaffold  scene.  Moreover, 
he  kept  the  action  of  his  piece  in  one  place — although  there 
was  a  different  scene  for  each  of  the  three  acts — and  within 
the  space  of  twelve  hours — a  rigidity  of  construction  which 
vied  with  that  of  the  ancient  Greek  dramatists.  Before 
coming  to  the  acting,  it  is  instructive  to  take  the  evidence  of 
the  Times  as  to  the  reception  of  Henry  Irving  and  the  position 


EUGENE  ARAM. 
First  acted  at  the  Lyceum  on  rgth  April,  1873. 


EUGENE  ARAM     - 

PARSON  MEADOWS 

RICHARD  HOUSEMAN    - 

JOWELL        - 

JOEY    - 

RUTH  MEADOWS  - 


Mr.  HENRY  IRVING. 
Mr.  W.  H.  STEPHENS. 
Mr.  E.  F.  EDGAR. 
Mr.  F.  W.  IRISH. 
Miss  WILLA  BROWN. 
Miss  ISABEL  BATEMAN. 


ACT  I.  The  Vicar's  Garden.  ACT  II.  The  Home  Room  of 
the  Parsonage.  ACT  III.  The  Churchyard  in  the  Grey  Light 
of  Dawn. 


which  he  had  now  attained.  "  Rarely  is  a  theatrical  audi- 
ence," it  said,  before  describing  the  play,  "save  on  some 
festive  occasion  indicated  by  the  almanack,  so  anxious  as  the 
crowd  which  on  Saturday  evening  filled  the  Lyceum  Theatre 
to  overflowing.  Yet  nobody  acquainted  with  the  present 
state  of  the  theatrical  atmosphere  expected  that  it  would  be 
otherwise.  Not  only  was  *  Charles  the  First '  one  of  the 
most  thoroughly  successful  and  generally  impressive  pieces  of 
the  winter  season,  but  it  was  a  work  of  a  new  kind.  The 
patrons  of  the  drama  are  much  more  earnest  and  numerous 
than  they  were  twenty  years  ago,  and  any  amount  of  interest 
could  be  fully  accounted  for  by  the  fact  that  '  Charles  the 
First,'  withdrawn  after  Friday's  performance,  was  to  be  re- 
placed on  Saturday  by  a  new  play,  written  by  the  same 
author,  and  sustained  by  the  same  principal  actor.  The  im- 


i42        THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  ix. 

portance  attached  to  the  actor  must  not  be  overlooked.  The 
success  of  '  Charles  the  First '  is  closely  associated  with  that  of 
Mr.  Henry  Irving,  who  was  comparatively  in  the  background 
three  years  ago,  but  whose  progress  is  now  anxiously  watched 
as  an  upward  career  to  which  none  can  assign  a  possible  limit." 
This  was,  indeed,  a  promising  beginning  of  an  im- 
portant criticism,  but  there  was  more  satisfaction  in  the 
remainder  of  the  notice.  In  the  second  act,  where  Eugene 
Aram,  having  hitherto  assumed  a  bearing  of  lofty  bravado 
when  in  the  presence  of  his  accomplice  and  accuser,  becomes 
crushed  by  the  force  of  circumstances,  "  Mr.  Irving's  delinea- 
tion of  the  fall  from  a  haughty  defiance  of  daring  to  a  state 
of  helpless  humiliation  is  not  to  be  surpassed  in  force  and 
elaboration."  His  greatest  triumph  was  in  the  last  act, 
which  was — as  originally  played — practically  a  soliloquy. 
Eugene  Aram  is  alone  in  the  churchyard  in  an  agony  of  re- 
morse. He  thinks  that  all  chance  of  forgiveness  is  denied 
him,  when  he  receives  a  visit  from  the  vicar's  daughter,  Ruth, 
who  loves  him.  To  her  as  to  a  guardian  angel,  he  makes 
a  full  confession  of  his  guilt.  He  relates  that  the  murder 
was  committed  in  extenuating  circumstances  comprising  the 
atrocious  wrongs  inflicted  by  his  victim  on  the  woman  he 
fondly  loved,  but  the  weight  of  conscience  is  too  strong  for 
him,  and  he  dies  in  the  arms  of  Ruth,  who  is  faithful  to  the 
end.  "  We  could  not  without  quotation  convey  a  notion  of 
the  vigour  with  which  this  is  written,  nor  even  with  a  quota- 
tion could  we  convey  a  notion  of  Mr.  Irving's  marvellous  re- 
presentation of  the  various  phases  of  mental  agony,  under- 
gone by  the  wretched  criminal.  ...  A  burst  of  admiration 
followed  the  termination  of  the  drama,  and  this  had  a  re- 
markable effect,  following,  as  it  did,  upon  the  breathless 
attention  with  which  it  had  been  watched.  If  the  conclusion 
of  'Charles  the  First'  gained  a  portion  of  its  celebrity  from  the 
abnormal  quantity  of  tears  shed  in  the  sometimes  apathetic 
stalls,  the  death  of  Eugene  was  equally  remarkable  for  the 
blank  terror  which  it  seemed  to  diffuse — a  terror,  be  it  ob- 
served, produced  by  purely  dramatic  means  apparently  of  the 


1873]  A  TREMENDOUS  EFFECT  143 

simplest  kind.  Throughout  the  play,  not  so  much  as  the 
composition  of  one  elaborate  living  picture  is  attempted. 
When  the  stage  is  occupied  by  the  fewest  persons,  the  drama 
is  at  its  strongest.  Our  opinion  of  the  admirable  acting  of 
Mr.  Irving  has  been  briefly  expressed  in  the  course  of  our 
narrative.  He  is  the  figure  that  chiefly  absorbs  attention." 

On  every  hand,  the  representation  of  Eugene  Aram  was 
acclaimed.  "  That  an  actor  would  get  variety  out  of  such 
an  unrelieved  scene,"  said  the  Observer,  in  reference  to  the 
last  act,  "  is  marvellous.  The  confession  was  listened  to  with 
the  deepest  attention,  and  the  on-coming  death,  now  at  the 
tomb,  now  writhing  against  the  tree,  and  now  prostrate  on 
the  turf,  brings  into  play  an  amount  of  study  which  is  little 
less  than  astonishing,  and  an  amount  of  power  for  which 
credit  would  be  given  to  Mr.  Irving  by  few  who  have  seen 
his  finest  performances."  The  Morning  Post  pointed  out 
certain  defects  in  the  play,  especially  that  of  the  last  act:  "a 
still  greater  mistake  is  to  present  a  character  through  one 
entire  act  prone  on  the  ground,  or,  at  best,  rising  only  to 
kneel  or  stand,  and  again  to  fall  "• — a  very  difficult  position,  it 
will  be  admitted,  for  any  actor.  But  it  found  Irving  equal  to 
the  tremendous  responsibility  thrown  upon  him,  and  it  re- 
corded the  fact  that  "his  personation  of  Eugene  Aram  pro- 
duced an  absolutely  tremendous  effect  upon  the  audience". 

The  Spectator  published  an  illuminating  criticism  in  the 
course  of  which  it  compared  Irving's  acting  of  Mathias  and 
Eugene  Aram  :  "  The  points  of  difference  between  Mathias  in 
'  The  Bells '  and  Eugene  Aram  are  as  striking  as  the  points 
of  resemblance  ;  in  both  the  active  passion  is  remorse,  in  both 
it  kills,  kills  at  the  very  moment  when  the  victim,  in  each 
case  '  a  great  sinner,  uncondemned,'  believes  himself  to  be  at 
length  emancipated  from  it ;  in  both  the  murderer  confesses, 
and  describes  his  crime  in  words  and  action ;  but  there  re- 
semblance ceases.  In  his  impersonation  of  the  unsuspected 
murderer  of  the  Polish  Jew,  Mr.  Irving  has  no  enemy  but 
himself,  and  the  study  is  finer,  though  not  nearly  so  fine  as  it 
might  have  been,  had  the  author's  idea  been  left  in  its  in- 


H4       THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  ix. 

tegrity,  had  not  the  English  adapter  resorted  to  the  vulgar 
expedient  of  a  phantom  to  produce  the  effect  intended  to  be 
the  work  of  conscience  only.  The  close  and  terrible  wrestle 
of  Mathias  with  the  betrayer  within  his  own  breast,  the 
tremendous  solitude  of  the  murderer's  soul,  the  vain  piteous 
cunning,  the  terrific  yielding  up  of  the  secret, — which  yet  is 
never  told  to  the  world  without, — under  the  pressure  of 
mental  torture  made  as  visible  as  the  wrenching  of  the  limbs 
by  mechanical  cruelty,  blend  in  a  perfect  and  unique  repre- 
sentation, of  which  his  impersonation  of  Eugene  Aram  is,  in 
some  sense,  a  repetition,  but  more  strictly  a  variation.  The 
prosperous,  calculating,  popular,  secretive  tavern-keeper,  who 
struggles  with  his  haunting  fiend,  and  generally  banishes 
him ;  who  hoards  the  stolen  gold,  and  reckons  it  q^tand 
m£me ;  whose  remorse  is  all  throughout  so  strangely  physical, 
is  replaced  by  the  gentle,  pensive,  studious  teacher,  whose 
enemy  has  found  him,  and  abides  with  him  ;  a  shadow  in  the 
noon,  not  only  of  his  love,  but  of  every  day,  who  is  hardly 
glad,  even  for  a  moment,  even  on  the  eve  of  his  marriage, 
"  To  Eugene  Aram,  too,  comes  detection  and  ruin,  but 
they  come  from  without,  and  for  a  little  while  the  spirit  of 
fierce  resistance  springs  up,  and  he  strives  against  his  fate,  in 
the  person  of  Houseman ;  but  the  enemy  within  surrenders 
quickly  to  the  enemy  without,  and  the  heart  vanquished  by 
both,  numbed  by  long  suffering,  wakes  up  to  rage  for  but 
a  little  while  before  it  breaks.  The  acting  of  Mr.  Irving  in 
this  character  is  wonderfully  fine,  so  deeply  impressive  that 
once  only,  by  a  bit  of  *  business '  with  lights  and  a  looking- 
glass  quite  unworthy  of  the  play  and  of  him,  does  he  remind 
one  that  he  is  acting  and  not  living  through  that  mortal 
struggle ;  so  various,  that  to  lose  sight  of  his  face  for  a 
moment  is  to  lose  some  expression  full  of  power  and  of 
fidelity  to  the  pervading  motive  of  the  part.  In  the  first 
scene  with  his  betrothed  Ruth,  the  pathetic  wanness  of  the 
face,  the  faint  flicker  of  the  attempted  smile,  the  infinite  woe 
of  the  look,  unseen  by  her,  with  which  he  replies  to  her 
question,  '  Eugene,  were  you  ever  gay  ? ' — the  frequent,  slight 


1873]  MORE  PRAISE  145 

shudder,  the  absent  yet  watchful  glance,  the  recurrent  un- 
easiness about  'the  stranger,'  who  has  asked  the  gardener  for 
a  spade  and  talked  about  St.  Robert's  cave,  are  of  finished 
skill  and  perfection.  In  the  second  act,  the  anguish  of  his 
mind  is  intensified  with  every  moment,  until  in  the  sudden 
outburst  of  his  fury,  his  defiance  of  Houseman,  his  proud 
boast  of  his  character  in  the  place  and  the  influence  of  it,  the 
change,  fierce  yet  subtle,  from  sad  and  dreamy  quiet  to  the 
hard,  scoffing,  worldly  wisdom  of  the  criminal  at  bay  before 
his  accomplice,  there  is  a  positive  relief  for  him  and  for  our- 
selves. Then  comes  the  terror,  abject  indeed  for  a  while, 
with  desperate  breathless  rally,  thick  incoherent  speech,  failing 
limbs,  ghastly  face,  dry  lips,  and  clicking  throat,  as  dreadful 
as  only  fear  can  be,  and  horribly  true.  The  quick,  gasping 
sentences  he  speaks  to  the  old  rector,  his  return  to  the  room, 
the  infinite  anguish  of  the  horror  which  has  seized  upon  him 
because  men's  hands  have  stirred  the  mouldering  remains 
that  for  ever  haunt  his  fancy ;  the  fight  of  the  mind  which  is 
torturing  with  the  body  which  is  betraying  him,  are  all  perfect ; 
and  if  he  did  not  look  at  himself  and  talk  about  his  scared 
face,  and  then  rush  out,  without  tying  the  white  cravat,  which 
streams  about  him  in  a  wild  disorder,  not  easy  to  be  accounted 
for  to  the  curious  crowd  outside,  there  would  be  nothing  to 
impair  the  overwhelming  effect.  In  the  concluding  scenes, 
one,  in  which  he  sends  Houseman  flying  from  the  churchyard 
appalled  at  the  sight  of  his  sufferings,  a  second,  in  which,  in 
accents  of  heartrending  grief  and  contrition,  he  implores 
heaven  for  a  sign  of  pardon,  and  flings  himself  down  by  a 
cross,  with  an  awful  face,  the  white,  mute  impersonation  of 
mental  despair  and  physical  exhaustion  ;  and  a  third,  in  which 
he  makes  a  confession  to  Ruth,  and  dies, — the  play  of  his 
features,  the  variety  and  intensity  of  his  expression,  are  most 
remarkable.  But  the  dead  face  of  Eugene  Aram  the  murderer 
is  quite  unlike  the  dead  face  of  Mathias  the  murderer ;  the 
morning  sun  comes  up  behind  the  trees  and  shines  upon  the 
churchyard,  Ruth's  kneeling  figure,  and  the  'great sinner,'  who 

has  repented  and  confessed, — white,  peaceful,  pardoned." 
VOL.  i.  10 


1  46        THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  ix. 


"  Eugene  Aram,"  produced  on  Saturday,  iQth  April, 
1873,  ran  f°r  tnree  months  at  the  Lyceum.  The  last  night 
of  the  season,  Saturday,  I9th  July,  was  set  apart  for  the 
benefit  of  the  actor  who  was  now  famous  throughout  England. 
"The  Bells"  was  revived,  for  this  occasion,  and  the  enthusi- 
asm was  so  remarkable  that  "for  once  we  have  to  record," 
said  a  contemporary  chronicle,  "that  an  actor,  during  the 
progress  of  a  three-act  play,  was  summoned  to  the  footlights 
seven  times  "-  -  an  event  which  compelled  the  use  of  italics  !— 
"  and  that  at  the  end  the  ladies,  who  are  one  and  all  great 
admirers  of  Mr.  Irving,  showed  their  estimate  of  his  talents  by 
pelting  him  with  bouquets  ".  The  programme  concluded  with 
the  last  act  of  "Charles  the  First".  The  fall  of  the  curtain 
was  the  signal  for  an  outburst  of  cheering  which  was  pro- 
longed until  the  hero  of  the  night  had  appeared  three  times 
before  the  curtain.  Even  then,  despite  the  beaming  presence 
of  Mr.  Bateman,  the  storm  of  bravos  continued,  and  "  Irving, 
Irving,"  rang  through  the  house.  At  last,  according  to  a 
trustworthy  source,  "as  there  seemed  some  probability  that 
those  present  would  continue  cheering,  stamping,  shouting, 
and  clapping  their  hands  until  midnight,  Mr.  Irving  once 
more  came  to  the  footlights,  and,  when  silence  was  restored," 
said  :  "  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  have  no  words  in  which  to 
express  to  you  my  heartfelt  thanks  for  the  extraordinary  re- 
ception you  have  this  evening  given  me,  and  I  only  hope 
with  all  sincerity  that  the  same  kindly  feeling  may  be  extended 
to  me  next  season,  when  we  re-open  in  Bulwer's  play  of  Riche- 
lieu'." So  ended  Henry  Irving's  second  season  at  the 
Lyceum.  It  might  have  been  thought  that  the  hard-  worked 
actor  would  have  taken  a  prolonged  holiday,  especially  as  he 
had  to  prepare  for  his  first  impersonation  of  a  character 
made  famous  on  the  stage  by  Macready,  Richelieu.  But, 
within  a  few  weeks,  he  was  seen  in  some  of  the  chief  towns 
of  the  provinces  in  "Charles  the  First".  In  Liverpool,  as 
usual,  he  received  the  warmest  of  welcomes.  The  Daily 
Post,  in  the  course  of  a  minute  description  of  his  performance, 
asserted  that  "Mr.  Henry  Irving  has  laboured  with  a  fulness 


1 873]  A  "TRULY  GREAT  PERFORMANCE"  147 

of  care  and  a  resulting  display  of  histrionic  power  and  grace 
which  bring  to  mind  Carlyle's  definition  of  genius  as  a  super- 
lative power  of  taking  trouble.  Every  action  and  accent 
that  well-directed  study  could  arrive  at  is  here  achieved  with 
rare  truth  of  instinct  and  balance  of  effect.  Even  the  some- 
what measured  and  stilted  delivery  of  the  King  in  his  lively 
gossip  with  his  children  on  the  sward  at  Hampton  Court  has 
its  significance.  It  suggests  the  character  of  a  man  every 
inch  a  king,  not  in  the  sense  of  one  naturally  and  exuber- 
antly kingly,  but  in  the  sense  of  one  in  whom  kingship  was 
a  noble  egotism,  a  sort  of  distinguished  pedantry  ;  one  who 
might  be  described  as  a  royal  Malvolio,  wrapt  up  even  in 
moments  of  domestic  abandonment  in  a  perpetual  conscious- 
ness of  the  monarchial  character  and  all  that  it  involved. 
Never  laying  altogether  aside  in  the  family  relations  of  the 
King  this  solemn  tone  of  kindliness  and  playfulness,  Mr. 
Irving  shows  great  art  in  casting  off  with  infinite  ease  all 
monarchial  affectation  when  called  upon  to  do  real  work  with 
the  representatives  of  the  Parliament.  The  work  done  may 
be  foolish,  but  it  is  done  royally.  The  King's  demeanour 
in  the  interview  with  Cromwell  in  the  second  act  is  very 
grand.  His  pulses  quicken,  his  eloquence  becomes  pungent, 
his  resolution  glows,  his  very  frame  vibrates  with  a  manly, 
soldierly,  kingly  daring,  which  makes  small  account  of  the 
most  formidable  obstacles,  and  holds  no  parley  even  with 
tremendous  odds.  Another  phase  of  the  character  most  nobly 
portrayed  is  that  which  follows  the  fatal  betrayal  at  Newark. 
The  spirit  of  the  King,  though  saddened,  is  not  abased.  He 
towers  above  all  around  him.  He  awes  the  handsome  traitor 
who  has  sold  him  into  grovelling  penitence.  He  consoles  as 
well  as  he  can  the  wife  whose  earlier  years  of  married  happi- 
ness he  has  tended  with  ever  fresh  devotion.  Then  he 
surrenders  his  sword  with  the  calm  submission  of  a  martyr." 
An  over-flowing  house  applauded  most  rapturously  and  in  the 
right  places,  the  recalls  after  each  act  were  enthusiastic,  and 
the  actor's  "  truly  great  performance  "  received  a  worthy  recog- 
nition at  the  hands  of  his  many  old  Liverpool  admirers. 

10* 


CHAPTER  X. 

1873-1874. 

"  Richelieu  "  at  the  Lyceum — Irving  compared  with  Macready  in  the 
character — John  Oxenford's  great  praise — "  Tragic  acting  in  the  grandest 
style  " — The  Standard  eulogises  Irving's  Richelieu — The  drama  acted  for 
over  four  months  at  the  Lyceum — The  young  critics,  Button  Cook  and 
Clement  Scott,  dissent  from  the  general  praise — An  old-fashioned  "  slat- 
ing " — Illness  of  Irving's  father — His  death — Production  of  "  Philip  "- 
The  Globe  on  Irving's  position — "  Charles  the  First  "  revived — Irving  plays 
Eugene  Aram  and  Jeremy  Diddler  for  his  benefit. 

IRVING  had  now  reached  a  critical  stage  in  his  career.  He 
was  still  a  young  man.  He  had  established  his  reputation 
as  a  serious  actor  with  Mathias  at  the  age  of  thirty-three,  and 
had  confirmed  it  with  Charles  a  year  later.  A  false  step  at 
this  important  period  would  have  been  most  prejudicial.  He 
was  still  a  salaried  actor  and  under  the  management  of  Colonel 
Bateman,  a  worthy  man  whose  daughter  was  a  member  of 
the  company  and  had  to  be  considered.  This  circumstance 
being  remembered,  it  is  all  the  more  to  his  credit  that  he  had 
produced  "The  Bells,"  in  which  there  was  no  part  for  Miss 
Isabel  Bateman.  The  young  actress  had  her  chance  in 
" Charles  the  First "  and  in  "Eugene  Aram".  The  words 
of  Bateman  when  he  saw  Irving  as  Digby  Grant  must  also 
be  borne  in  mind — "  That  young  man  should  play  Richelieu  ". 
And  play  Richelieu  he  did,  although  very  unwillingly.  For 
he  regarded  himself  as  an  original  actor,  and,  while  the 
interpreter  of  Shakespeare  may  think  for  himself,  the  imper- 
sonator of  Richelieu  was  obliged  to  follow,  to  a  great  extent, 
the  beaten  track  of  tradition.  More  dangerous  still,  he  was 
bound  to  bear  the  brunt  of  comparison  with  Macready,  who 
was  still  the  apostle  of  a  large  army  of  keen  admirers.  It 

may  be  as  well  to  bring  into  evidence  the  statement  made 

148 


1873]  RICHELIEU  149 

twenty  years  later  by  Irving  in  regard  to  the  early  pro- 
ductions at  the  Lyceum  under  the  Bateman  management. 
We  have  seen  that  "The  Bells"  was  brought  out  against 
Bateman's  wish  and  that  the  theatre  had,  as  Irving  modestly 
put  it  in  1884,  "prospered".  It  was  difficult  to  find  a  suc- 
cessor to  "  The  Bells".  "  It  was  thought  that  whatever  part 
I  played  it  must  be  a  villain,  associated  with  crime  in  some 
way  or  other ;  because  I  had  been  identified  with  such  sort 
of  characters,  it  was  thought  my  forte  lay  in  that  direction. 
I  should  tell  you  that  I  had  associated  histrionically  with  all 
sorts  of  bad  characters,  housebreakers,  black-legs,  assassins. 
When  '  Charles  the  First '  was  announced,  it  was  said  that 
the  bad  side  of  the  King's  character  should  be  the  one  por- 
trayed, not  the  good,  because  it  would  be  ridiculous  to  expect 
me  to  exhibit  any  pathos,  or  to  give  the  domestic  and  loving 
side  of  the  character.  After  the  first  night,  the  audience 
thought  differently.  Following  'Charles  the  First,'  'Eugene 
Aram '  was,  by  Mr.  Bateman's  desire,  produced.  Then  Mr. 
Bateman  wished  me  to  play  Richelieu.  I  had  no  desire  to 
do  that,  but  he  continued  to  persuade,  and,  to  please  him, 
I  did  it."  A  more  conscientious  actor  than  Henry  Irving, 
or  one  who  worked  more  assiduously  at  the  task  which  he 
had  undertaken,  never  lived.  Although  he  did  not,  owing 
to  the  nervousness  incidental  to  such  a  trying  experiment,  do 
himself  full  justice  on  the  first  night  of  the  revival — Saturday, 
27th  September,  1873,  which  was  also  the  opening  night  of 
the  season — he  created  an  impression  which  was  greatly  in 
his  favour.1  John  Oxenford,  in  the  Times,  prefaced  his  de- 
scription of  the  performance  with  a  summary  of  the  state  of 
the  stage  at  that  period,  and  pointed  out  that  the  Lyceum 
was  now  the  only  possible  home  in  London  for  tragedy  and 
pieces  akin  to  tragedy,  "unassisted  by  spectacle  " — an  obser- 
vation of  some  significance.  All  the  same,  "such  a  demon  - 

l"  Richelieu"  was  first  acted  at  Covent  Garden  on  yth  March,  1839, 
under  the  management  of  Macready.  Helen  Faucit  (afterwards  Lady 
Theodore  Martin)  was  the  original  Julie  de  Mortemar.  This  was  Lord 
Lytton's  third  essay  as  a  dramatist.  "  The  Duchesse  de  Valliere "  was 
his  first  play,  in  1837,  "The  Lady  of  Lyons"  his  second,  in  1838. 


ISO        THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  x. 

stration  as  that  which  was  made  on  Saturday  could  not 
have  been  anticipated  even  by  the  most  sanguine  among  the 
hopeful. 

"  The  play  itself,  excellent  as  a  specimen  of  dramatic  talent 
employed  in  the  treatment  of  an  historical  subject,  is  not  one 
that  might  be  particularly  expected  to  excite  enthusiasm  or 
curiosity.  It  has  never  wholly  disappeared  from  the  boards 
since  it  was  originally  brought  out  by  Mr.  Macready  at 
Covent  Garden,  and  it  has  always  had  a  place  in  the  reper- 
tory of  Mr.  Phelps.  The  great  Cardinal,  whom  the  poet  has 
whitewashed  all  over,  leaving  nothing  untouched  but  his 
vestment,  is  nevertheless  but  a  figure  composed  of  materials 
of  which  the  idols  of  a  mob  commonly  consist.  His  patriotism, 
his  love  for  France  in  the  abstract,  whom  he  personifies  in  his 
imagination,  is  of  so  purely  ideal  a  kind  that  we  can  hardly 
fancy  that  even  Frenchmen  would  be  greatly  moved  by  it. 
He  stands  apart  from  that  dramatic  interest  which  is  often 
found  to  be  of  such  inestimable  value,  and  to  which  '  Charles 
the  First'  owed  much  of  its  success.  In  spite  of  all  rehabili- 
tation, he  remains  a  wily  politician,  with  a  very  hot  temper, 
who,  taking  Lysander  for  his  model  and  consequently  eking 
out  the  hide  of  the  lion  with  that  of  the  fox,  contrives  by  ex- 
treme craft,  to  overthrow  every  enemy  who  crosses  his  path. 

11  In  spite  of  all  this,  never  did  aristocratic  statesman  leap 
with  greater  agility  into  favour  with  a  multitude,  which  com- 
prised idolaters  of  every  class,  than  did  '  Armand  du  Plessis- 
Richelieu '  on  the  night  of  Saturday  last.  The  feat  is  to  be 
attributed  wholly  and  solely  to  the  genius  of  Mr.  Irving. 

"The  proficiency  of  this  gentleman  in  making  himself  up 
into  the  semblance  of  an  historical  personage,  as  shown  in 
1  Charles  the  First,'  is  again  revealed  in  '  Richelieu'.  Those 
who  are  familiar  with  the  portrait  of  the  Cardinal  must  be  at 
once  struck  by  its  presentation  in  a  living  form  when  Mr. 
Irving  makes  his  first  appearance.  The  face,  the  manner, 
the  attitudes,  all  give  evidence  of  thought  and  study.  The 
elocution  in  the  earlier  scenes  is  even  and  well-sustained,  and 
the  apostrophe  to  France,  with  which  the  first  act  terminates, 


i873] 


EULOGY  FROM  THE   TIMES 


is  all  that  could  be  desired.  The  passing  regret  over  bygone 
strength,  which  is  expressed  more  by  gesture  than  by  words, 
when  Richelieu  finds  himself  unable  to  lift  the  sword  which 
he  wielded  in  his  youth,  is  subtly  given,  but  the  actor  reserves 
the  plenitude  of  his  power  for  the  fourth  act.  His  defence  of 
Julie  de  Mortemar  when  the  minions  of  the  King  would 
snatch  her  from  his  arms,  the  weight  of  the  sacerdotal  autho- 
rity with  which  he  threatens  to  '  launch  the  curse  of  Rome '  on 
his  assailant,  his  self-transformation  into  the  semblance  of  a 
Hebrew  prophet  of  the  olden  time,  with  whom  imprecations 
were  deeds,  combine  together  to  produce  a  most  astounding 
effect.  Here  is  tragic  acting  in  the  grandest  style,  and  it  will 
be  borne  in  mind  that,  although  '  Richelieu '  is  not  a  tragedy, 


RICHELIEU. 
Revived  at  the  Lyceum  on  2yth  September,  1873. 


CARDINAL  RICHELIEU 

Louis  XIII.       - 

GASTON  (DUKE  OF  ORLEANS) 

BARADAS   - 

DE  MAUPRAT     - 

DEBERINGHEN- 

JOSEPH       - 

HUGUET    .... 

FRANCOIS  - 

DE  CLAREMONT  - 

CAPTAIN  OF  THE  GUARD     - 

FIRST  SECRETARY 

SECOND  SECRETARY  - 

THIRD  SECRETARY 

MARION  DE  LORME     - 

JULIE  DE  MORTEMAR 


Mr.  HENRY  IRVING. 
Mr.  JOHN  CLAYTON. 
Mr.  BEAUMONT. 
Mr.  H.  FORRESTER. 
Mr.  J.  B.  HOWARD. 
Mr.  F.  CHARLES. 
Mr.  JOHN  CARTER. 
Mr.  E.  F.  EDGAR. 
Mr.  H.  B.  CONWAY. 
Mr.  A.  TAPPING. 
Mr.  HARWOOD. 
Mr.  W.  L.  BRANSCOMBE. 
Mr.  HENRY. 
Mr.  COLLETT. 
Miss  LE  THIERE. 
Miss  ISABEL  BATEMAN. 


ACT  I.,  SCENE  i.  Salon  in  the  House  of  Marion  de  Lorme; 
SCENE  2.  Richelieu's  Cabinet  in  Palais  Cardinal.  ACT  II., 
SCENE  i.  Apartment  in  Mauprat's  New  House;  SCENE  2. 
Richelieu's  Apartment,  as  before.  ACT  III.  Richelieu's  Apart- 
ment at  Ruelle — a  Gothic  Chamber.  ACT  IV.  Gardens  in 
the  Louvre.  ACT  V.  The  King's  Closet  at  the  Louvre. 


it  belongs  practically  to  the  tragical  category,  as  none  can  do 
justice  to  it  but  a  tragedian.  Before  the  effect  of  the  fulmina- 
tion  has  subsided  come  the  well-known  lines  :— 

Walk  blindfold  on — behind  thee  stalks  the  headsman. 
Ha !  ha !  how  pale  he  is  !     Heaven  save  my  country. 

"The  scornful  laugh  by  which  the  flow  of  indignation  is 


152         THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  x. 

checked,  and  which  was  a  great  point  with  Mr.  Macready 
had  told  with  surprising  force,  and  when  the  Cardinal  had 
fallen  back  exhausted,  the  descending  drop-curtain  on  Satur- 
day night  gave  the  signal,  as  it  were,  to  the  scene  to  which 
we  have  above  referred.  The  old-fashioned  excitement  which 
we  associate  with  Edmund  Kean  and  his  '  wolves '  was  mani- 
fested once  more  in  all  its  pristine  force.  Enthusiastic  shouts 
of  approbation  came  from  every  part  of  the  house.  The  pit 
not  only  rose,  but  it  made  its  rising  conspicuous  by  the  waving 
of  countless  hats  and  handkerchiefs.  Not  bare  approval,  but 
hearty  sympathy  was  denoted  by  this  extraordinary  demon- 
stration, and  this  sympathy  nothing  but  genius  and  thorough 
self-abandonment  on  the  part  of  the  artist  could  have  produced. 

"  The  triumph  of  the  fourth  act  was  continued  through  the 
fifth  ;  the  quiet  comments  of  the  apparently  dying  Cardinal 
on  the  effete  projects  of  the  King  and  the  newly  appointed 
Ministers  were  most  delicately  doled  out,  and  the  sudden 
transformation  of  extreme  debility  into  an  assertion  of  pristine 
vigour  was  followed  by  another  storm  of  applause.  Of  the 
success  of  the  performance  there  could  not  be  the  shadow  of 
a  doubt.  Not  since  the  curse  pronounced  by  the  elder  Miss 
Bateman  in  '  Leah'  have  we  seen  an  audience  so  strongly 
stirred  by  the  utterance  of  one  tragic  artist." 

The  Daily  Telegraph  found  much  to  commend  in  this 
initial  impersonation  of  "  Richelieu,"  and  it  rightly  recognised 
the  "  extreme  nervousness  and  a  sense  of  the  heavy  responsi- 
bility of  the  task,"  which  somewhat  marred  the  first  perform- 
ance. Nor  did  it  regard  the  revival  as  "  secure  of  one  of  those 
long  runs  to  which  the  patrons  of  the  Lyceum  have  grown  ac- 
customed " — a  prophecy  which,  happily,  was  not  borne  out  by 
subsequent  events,  for  "  Richelieu"  had  a  successful  career  of 
a  hundred  and  twenty  nights  at  the  Lyceum — a  very  satisfac- 
tory result  in  view  of  the  fact  that  it  was  an  old  play,  and  one 
that  had  been  frequently  acted,  not  only  by  Macready  and 
Samuel  Phelps,  but  by  every  other  tragedian  of  the  time. 
This  result  was  largely  due  to  Irving's  wonderful  capacity  for 
taking  pains  and  for  improving  upon  his  first  impersonation  of 


1873]  MORE  ENCOURAGEMENT  153 

a  character — a  faculty  which  increased  with  his  years.  So  re- 
markable a  hold  had  he  obtained  on  public  opinion  when  he 
acted  Richelieu,  that  the  Standard — then  in  the  height  of  its 
popularity  and  an  organ  of  authority  in  other  matters  than  those 
of  politics — published  a  second  article  on  "  Richelieu  ".  It  is  a 
remarkable  piece  of  criticism  and  a  wonderful  tribute  to  the 
actor.  It  is  given  here,  word  for  word,  as  it  appeared  on 
Tuesday,  1 4th  October,  1873:— 

"The  brilliant  success  which  marked  Mr.  Irving's  first 
appearance  as  Cardinal  Richelieu  has  proved  to  be  no  straw- 
fire  smouldering  down  to  ashes  when  the  enthusiasm  of  a 
band  of  immediate  friends  and  adherents  had  burnt  itself  out. 
Rather  is  it  a  well-trimmed  lamp,  which,  though  it  may  have 
flared  a  little  wildly  under  the  first  stormy  gusts  of  the  popular 
voice,  now  burns  steadily  and  brightly — a  beacon  to  guide 
many  a  goodly  houseful  within  the  pleasant  portals  of  the 
Lyceum.  It  is  a  fact  on  which  London  has  to  congratulate 
itself  not  a  little,  for  in  Mr.  Irving  it  sees  an  actor  of  its  own 
rearing,  who  has  grown  to  his  present  intellectual  and  artistic 
stature  by  the  sole  experience  he  has  gained  on  London 
boards,  and  whose  genius  has  been  fostered  by  the  approba- 
tion of  London  audiences ;  proving  that,  though  that  pro- 
vincial training  which  was  once  thought  so  indispensable  to 
the  ripening  of  an  actor,  is  no  longer  possible,  a  decided 
vocation  may  in  a  few  years  mature  itself  to  the  highest 
proficiency  unaided  by  any  such  preparatory  academy.  Truly 
wonderful,  and  in  the  highest  degree  encouraging,  indeed, 
is  it  to  note  how  this  young  actor,  purely  from  the  strength 
and  light  within  him,  with  no  beaten  path  of  tradition  to 
facilitate  his  early  footsteps,  no  guiding  hand  of  some  famed 
master,  no  brilliant  models  to  dart  inspiration  and  shorten 
study,  has  yet  with  almost  unhesitating  tread  climbed  the 
rugged  steep  of  art  and  gained  the  upper  heights,  reaching 
the  topmost  summits,  as  it  were,  at  a  leap.  If  it  be  re- 
membered how  very  few  years  ago  it  is  that  Mr.  Irving  was 
credited  with  the  happy  characterisation  of  such  a  part  as 
Mr.  Chevenix  in  '  Uncle  Dick's  Darling,'  as  his  utmost  effort. 


154        THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  x. 

to  speak  thus  will  appear  no  exaggeration  when  he  appears 
before  us  now  as  the  representative  of  Cardinal  Richelieu, 
rendering  Bulwer's  clever  play  a  possible  entertainment  for 
modern  audiences,  to  whom  it  must  otherwise  have  remained 
a  problematical  subject  of  reading-room  study,  and  so  opening 
up  for  the  future  such  a  prospect  of  dramatic  edification  as 
only  yesterday  was  deemed  an  almost  desperate  anticipation. 
Thanks  to  Mr.  Irving,  young  England  may  yet  know  some- 
thing of  a  national  drama,  and  not  grow  to  associate  the  stage 
entirely  with  glittering  show,  glib  punning,  and  graceful 
nether-limbs.  Not  that  Cardinal  Richelieu  is  a  part  of  the 
highest  exigency  in  point  of  intellectual  grasp,  or  as  a  means 
of  expounding  through  art  subtle  apprehensions  of  the  springs 
of  feeling  and  action,  but  it  implies  an  ample  command  of 
the  mechanical  resources  of  the  actor's  craft,  without  which 
he  could  not  hope,  whatever  might  be  his  sympathies  with  the 
highest  productions  of  the  stage  and  his  mental  power  of 
probing  their  depth  and  significance,  to  realise  the  heroic 
figures  round  which  they  centre.  Written  expressly  to  bring 
out  these  executive  capabilities  in  an  actor  then  at  the  most 
mature  period  of  his  very  great  powers,  and  whose  life  had 
been  one  strenuous  study  of  the  means  of  producing  strong 
and  impressive  effects,  of  suddenly  startling  or  deeply  stirring 
an  audience  within  the  limits  of  truth  and  without  over-step- 
ping the  strict  though  flowing  curves  of  beauty  or  the  peril- 
ous hedge  of  the  sublime,  such  a  part  was  perhaps  better 
calculated  to  set  at  rest  the  question  as  to  the  justice  of  Mr. 
Irving's  pretensions  to  become  a  leading  tragic  actor  than 
had  he  undertaken  any  of  the  usual  round  of  Shakespearean 
characters  in  which  the  point  of  his  technical  and  physical 
sufficiency  would  have  got  mixed  up  with  the  profundity  or 
propriety  of  his  interpretations  of  text  or  character.  An  actor 
who  has  so  thoroughly  mastered  the  requisites  of  his  art,  and 
has  shown  the  sustained  power  to  fill  up  a  canvas  of  such 
dimensions  with  good  work  to  the  last  inch,  need  not  flinch 
before  the  task  of  presenting  the  most  arduous  and  colossal 
of  the  heroes  of  our  stage.  It  was  observed  by  us  that  on 


1873]  PRAISE  INDEED  155 

the  first  night  Mr.  Irving  appeared,  in  the  fiery  zeal  of 
ambition,  to  have  exaggerated  the  necessities  of  the  case,  and 
to  have  lavished  a  disproportionate  amount  of  minuteness  of 
finish  and  intensity  of  exertion  on  what  was  on  the  part  of 
the  author — broad  and  dashing  as  it  might  be — still  only  a 
clever  sketch,  the  elaborate  working  up  of  which  would  but 
serve  to  betray  original  defects  of  drawing.  Purposely,  or  as 
the  result  of  that  instinct  which  causes  the  craftsman  to  do 
everything  with  the  least  expenditure  of  effort,  the  balance  is 
restored,  and  the  amount  of  powder  used  is  no  more  than 
necessary  to  carry  the  shot  home.  Freed  from  the  inalien- 
able anxieties  of  a  first  night,  and  instructed  by  its  indispens- 
able lessons,  Mr.  Irving  now  presents  to  the  world  a  picture 
of  the  old  cardinal  vigorous  and  sharply  marked  as  one  of 
Retsch's  outlines,  and,  though  without  over  elaboration,  more 
minutely  and  carefully  filled  in  with  touches  of  truthful  and 
telling  colour  and  significance — not  stuck  on  for  effect,  as  from 
afterthought,  but  woven  into  the  texture  of  the  part — than 
was  ever  the  case  with  any  other  representation  of  the 
character  we  have  seen,  not  excepting  that  of  Macready  him- 
self. In  the  first  act,  hugged  in  his  furred  robe,  darting  with 
arrowy  keenness  vulpine  glances  from  beneath  his  shaggy 
brows,  a  smile,  bitter  or  benevolent,  ever  hovering  about  the 
stern  pursed-up  lip,  the  senile  gait  still  preserving  remnants 
of  vigour,  made  up  a  perfect  picture  to  the  eye,  while  the 
measured  and  significantly  terse  speech,  illustrated  by  ever- 
varied  and  appropriate  attitude,  the  thoughtful  by-play,  as  it 
is  called,  completed  to  the  sense,  in  the  most  satisfactory  full- 
ness, both  of  character  and  situation.  The  rhapsody  ending 
this  act,  delivered  with  an  eloquent  fervour,  gaunt  arms  and 
glistening  eyes  uplifted,  worthy  of  words  weighted  with  more 
genuine  metal,  gives  the  first  hint  of  Mr.  Irving's  emotional 
intensity.  As  the  play  proceeds  these  vivid  outbursts  of 
strongly  realised  feeling  become  more  frequent,  upheaving 
like  volcanic  commotions,  and  pouring  out  words  in  a  boiling 
torrent,  fiery  and  scathing  as  lava.  Such  was  the  threat  of 
Rome's  anathema  commencing  : — 


156         THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  x. 

Aye  is  it  so  ? 

Then  wakes  the  power  which  in  the  age  of  iron 
Burst  forth  to  curb  the  great  and  raise  the  low — 

when  the  tempest  of  the  soul  seemed  to  act  outwardly  on 
the  frame,  swaying  and  lifting  it  bodily  from  the  ground,  like 
an  uprooted  tree,  towards  the  object  of  the  cardinal's  terrific 
wrath.  The  physical  grandeur  of  this  explosion,  combined 
with  the  overbearing  moral  force,  is  unmatched  by  any  other 
similar  exhibition  of  the  actor's  power  throughout  the  play, 
and  only  approached  by  the  triumphant  springing  up  of  the 
cardinal  from  his  arm-chair  at  the  close  of  the  action,  and  after 
the  finely-wrought  scene  of  feigned  exhaustion,  when,  tramp- 
ling the  state  paper,  so  perplexing  to  poor  Louis,  beneath  his 
feet,  he  lowers  up  in  savage  exultation  at  the  recovery  of  his 
lost  power,  and  the  distant  prospect  of  dire  vengeance  over 
his  discomfited  enemies.  The  concentrated  malignity  with 
which,  as  he  half-glided,  half-tottered  towards  Baradas,  his 
clenched  teeth  and  parched  throat,  rather  than  his  lips,  force 
out  the  words  'thou  hast  lost  the  stake/  could  scarcely  be 
surpassed  for  spell-like  power  over  the  imagination — the  man 
seemed  transformed  into  some  huge  cobra.  We  have  dwelt 
more  emphatically  on  these  passages,  denoting  the  actor's 
capacity  for  expressing  vigorous  passion,  as  it  undoubtedly 
forms  his  strongest  side,  but  that  there  is  no  deficiency  of 
pathos  in  his  nature  was  abundantly  proved  in  the  various 
passages  of  tender  expansion  towards  Julie,  and  more  especi- 
ally in  the  return  upon  himself  in  the  fourth  act,  '  I  am  not 
made  to  live,'  where  the  notable  simile  between  the  cardinal's 
star  and  a  rocket  occurs,  which  piece  of  profound  bathos  Mr. 
Irving's  art  disguised  into  an  utterance  of  touching  and  heart- 
moving  melancholy.  But  we  have  said  enough,  nor  must  we 
court  the  danger,  in  our  anxious  desire  to  signalise  the  un- 
doubted and  marvellous  achievements  of  a  young  and  rising 
actor,  of  overstating  his  claims  and  painting  a  picture  in  colours 
which  others  less  enthusiastic  may  not  recognise  in  the  original. 
But  as  truth  is  great  and  will  prevail,  so  with  her  sister,  art, 
whose  genuine  presence  once  established,  her  ultimate  triumph 
is  only  a  question  of  time," 


YOUNG  CRITICS  157 

The  play,  which  had  been  slightly  condensed  for  the  Ly- 
ceum revival,  was  mounted  with  much  liberality  and  complete- 
ness of  decoration,  the  costumes  being  rich  and  tasteful : 
"the  characters  wear  the  aspect  of  animated  Vandycks,"  said 
one  critic.  But  Irving,  in  regard  to  acting,  had  the  entire 
weight  of  the  play  on  his  shoulders.  Macready  had  a  most 
capable  company  to  support  him,  every  part  in  the  play  being 
taken  by  actors  who  were  excellent  in  their  respective  parts. 
"  The  Lyceum  company  numbers  few  actors  of  any  note,  and 
occasionally  the  drama  suffered  gravely  from  the  incompetence 
of  its  exponents.  The  characters  of  Julie  and  De  Mauprat 
were  even  so  inefficiently  filled  as  to  provoke  the  displeasure 
of  an  audience  that  seemed  otherwise  disposed  to  regard  the 
performance  with  excessive  leniency  and  to  lavish  applause 
at  every  possible  opportunity."  Despite  these  deficiencies, 
"  Richelieu"  was  played  for  over  four  months  at  the  Lyceum. 

Lest  it  should  be  imagined  that  Irving's  career  was  en- 
tirely a  bed  of  roses  when  he  began  his  brilliant  reign  as 
Richelieu,  the  reverse  side  of  the  picture  must  be  given.  There 
were  some  young  critics  in  London  who,  with  the  impetuosity 
of  youth,  agreed  to  differ  with  such  experienced  judges  of 
acting  as  John  Oxenford.  One  of  these  was  Button  Cook, 
who  invariably  was  grudging  in  his  praise  of  Irving.  Some- 
times, indeed,  he  was  the  model  of  cold  and  calculated  con- 
tempt. He  had  scarcely  the  proverbial  bone  to  throw  at  a  dog 
for  Irving  as  Richelieu.  "  Mr.  Irving  appears  as  Richelieu," 
he  wrote,  in  the  World,  "the  actor's  recent  successes  on  the 
stage  justifying,  perhaps," — note  the  qualification — "his  ambi- 
tion to  distinguish  himself  in  so  important  a  character.  Mr. 
Irving  plays  with  care  and  intelligence,  his  physical  gifts,  with 
the  assistance  of  appropriate  costume,  enabling  him  to  present 
a  striking  resemblance  to  the  well-known  portraits  of  the 
Cardinal.  His  performance,  on  the  whole,  however,  is  de- 
ficient in  sustained  force  and  fails  to  impress.  Richelieu  has 
to  be  depicted  as  prematurely  old  and  decrepit,  and  yet  must 
be  represented  by  an  actor  of  untiring  energy  and  inordinate 
strength  of  voice.  He  is  charged  with  the  delivery  now  of 


i58        THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  x. 

mordant  jests,  and  now  of  protracted  rhapsodies.  Mr.  Irving's 
system  of  elocution  is  somewhat  monotonous,  and  his  longer 
speeches  appear  to  tax  him  severely,  their  effect  upon  the 
audience  being  oppressive  " — a  statement,  by  the  way,  which 
is  not  in  accordance  with  the  recorded  facts,  as  already  evinced. 
However,  this  sapient  critic  continues  :  "  His  sarcastic  utter- 
ances lose  point  from  his  too  deliberate  manner  and  his  lack 
of  a  penetrating,  resonant  quality  of  voice.  Upon  the  humorous 
side  of  the  character  he  lays  little  stress,  and  neglects  the 
many  opportunities  of  this  kind  provided  by  the  dramatist  for 
the  enlivenment  of  the  audience.  In  the  hands  of  Macready, 
Richelieu  during  the  earlier  scenes  of  the  play  was  almost  a 
comic  part,  and  thus  contrast  and  variety  were  secured  as  the 
story  advanced.  Mr.  Irving  is  spiritless  enough  for  three  acts, 
but  he  permits  himself  a  grand  burst  of  passion  at  the  close  of 
the  fourth.  Here,  indeed,  his  vehemence  has  something  more 
of  deliriousness  about  it  than  the  situation  really  demands, 
involving  a  total  loss  of  the  cardinal's  dignity  ;  but  the  actor's 
genuine  ardour  evoked  storms  of  applause.  His  most  success- 
ful effort  was  the  last  scene,  which  was  in  many  respects  very 
finely  rendered.  Mr.  Irving  will  no  doubt  improve  upon  his 
performance  with  a  view  to  investing  it  with  increase  of  har- 
mony and  coherence  ;  at  present,  it  is  somewhat  disappointing 
to  his  admirers."  But,  severe  as  was  this  criticism,  it  was 
mildness  itself  in  comparison  with  that  which  greeted  the 
actor,  when,  a  few  hours  after  the  first  performance,  he  read 
the  notice  written  in  the  Observer  by  Clement  Scott.  It  is 
rather  amusing  to  look  upon  such  excited  utterances  after  the 
lapse  of  years,  but  such  slashing,  dashing  criticism — especially 
on  the  part  of  a  writer  who  had  but  comparatively  little  ex- 
perience of  his  work,  for  Scott  was  only  twenty-eight  years  of 
age — could  not  be  considered  helpful.  Not  that  it  mattered, 
in  the  long  run,  and  there  was  much  worse,  in  the  way  of  so- 
called  criticism,  to  come  during  the  next  few  years.  No 
useful  purpose  would  be  served  by  quoting  the  article,  which 
is  of  inordinate  length,  in  full,  but  here  are  a  few  specimens 
of  criticism  as  it  was  occasionally  written  in  these  early  years 


1873]  A  "SLASHING"  NOTICE  159 

by  over-confident  critics.  Scott  wrote  much  in  praise  of 
Irving,  but  this  kind  of  condemnation  over-stepped  the  limits 
of  judicial  criticism  :— 

"  Let  us  agree  to  differ.  This  serious,  earnest,  kindly  compromise  stands 
us  in  good  stead  occasionally.  On  some  points  of  dramatic  art  there  is  no 
argument  whatever.  Discussion  is  out  of  the  question,  comparing  of  notes 
is  utterly  useless.  Let  us  then  out  with  it  honestly,  and  own  that  the  long- 
expected,  anxiously-awaited  performance  of  'Richelieu,'  at  one  of  the  best 
of  our  theatres,  was  but  very  slightly  to  our  liking.  We  are  not  afraid  of  our 
opinion,  for  we  shall  state  the  why  and  the  wherefore ;  but  it  is  truly  an  un- 
grateful task  to  speak  anything  but  praise  of  a  theatre  which  is  the  very  home 
of  art,  or  of  an  actor  who  is  justly  regarded  as  one  of  its  most  brilliant 
ornaments.  We  own  at  once  we  are  in  a  serious  minority.  The  old  play 
went  as  it  has  probably  never  gone  before.  The  principal  actor  was  cheered 
and  feted  with  such  a  triumph  as  has  fallen  to  few  actors  in  our  time. 
Hats  and  handkerchiefs  were  waved ;  the  pit  and  gallery  leaped  upon  the 
benches  ;  the  house  shook  and  rang  with  the  applause,  but  the  excitement 
was  unwholesome,  and  the  cheers  were  forced.  It  was  the  wild  delirium  of 
a  revival  meeting,  an  excited,  earnest  enthusiast  having  previously  created 
slaves,  bent  them  all  to  his  imperious  will.  The  greater  the  shouting  on  the 
stage,  the  more  the  cheering  of  the  audience.  It  was  a  triumph  of  din,  an 
apotheosis  of  incoherence.  Seriously,  we  cannot  fail  to  feel  a  little  vexed 
when  all  our  dearest  hopes  and  ambitions  are  thus  cruelly  dashed  to  the 
ground.  We  talk  of  the  old  school,  the  old  stilted  elocution,  the  old  un- 
pardonable mannerisms,  the  old  drawls,  and  groans,  and  sighs,  and  forced 
efforts  to  create  effect,  and,  behold,  we  have  a  famous  old  play,  as  it  appears 
to  us,  with  the  sense  more  mangled,  and  the  exaggeration  more  sublime. 
One  can  well  pardon  the  artists  for  '  o'erdoing  termagant,'  since  last  even- 
ing the  delicacy  and  grace  of  acting  were  lost  in  a  whirlwind  of  noise.  Nice 
points  and  rare  graces  of  thought  were  absolutely  smothered  and  crushed 
out  by  this  intemperate,  leather-lunged  audience,  and  of  interesting  examples 
of  refined  and  thoughtful  acting  there  were  not  a  few. 

"  Let  us  briefly  summarise  the  acts  according  to  the  impression  they 
seemed  to  make  upon  the  audience.  It  was  all  tame,  lifeless,  and  unin- 
telligible until  the  appearance  of  Mr.  Irving  as  Richelieu,  and  then  the 
actor  received  such  a  welcome  and  a  shout  as  fall  but  seldom  to  a  monarch. 
The  picturesque  appearance  of  the  man  at  once  impressed  the  whole  house, 
the  splendid  presence,  the  noble  and  most  expressive  face,  the  sunk  eyes, 
ascetic  features  and  thoughtful  brow,  the  long  taper  fingers,  and  the  refined 
dignity  at  once  filled  up  the  picture.  We  forgot  that  awkward  halting  (not 
decrepit)  walk.  We  did  not  linger  upon  the  occasional  ungainly  action. 
The  man,  Richelieu,  as  he  stood,  impressed  and  convinced  the  audience 
that  a  great  performance  was  at  hand.  But  why  did  it  not  come  ?  We 
had  all  read  '  Richelieu '  beforehand.  We  had  all  made  ourselves  masters 
of  the  nervous  vigorous  language.  We  had  all  made  up  our  minds  where 
points  would  be  made,  and  where  some  poetical  fancy  would  carry  the 
audience  away.  But,  strange  to  say,  the  delivery  of  the  verse  by  Mr. 
Irving  was  monotonous  and  stilted.  He  seemed  to  say  to  the  audience, 


160        THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  x. 

'  I  am  about  to  deliver  some  hundreds  of  lines  of  blank  verse,  and  you  all 
know  that  a  tone  and  an  air  are  assumed  when  legitimate  blank  verse  is 
delivered '.  But  surely  this  was  the  old  difficulty  all  over  again.  This  is 
just  what  we  have  so  often  protested  against.  We  had  hoped  that  verse 
might  be  pronounced  without  any  air  and  special  chant,  and  we  who  love 
natural  and  not  conventional  acting,  regarded  Mr.  Irving  as  the  Horatius, 
boldly  prepared  to  step  forward  and  defend  the  bridge  of  unconventionality. 
But  it  was  not  to  be.  The  attitudes  were  new,  the  business  thoughtful; 
but  poor  Lord  Lytton's  verse  was  thrust  into  the  old  mill,  and  it  was  being 
wound  off  for  the  edification  of  the  audience.  It  was  not  the  kind  of  verse 
that  deserved  such  treatment,  and  those  who  had  read  over  the  play  before- 
hand, delighted  in  the  thought  how  passage  after  passage  would  come  out 
clear  and  new  at  the  beckoning  of  Mr.  Irving. 

"  In  the  second  act,  the  monotony  of  Mr.  Irving's  general  delivery 
increased  very  much,  and  his  best  (and  admirable)  business  with  the  sword, 
his  failing  strength,  ending  with  a  short,  dry,  hacking  cough,  was  naturally 
but  very  little  appreciated  by  an  audience  who  believed  in  no  acting  that 
did  not  '  fetch  them '.  It  was,  to  tell  the  truth,  a  dull  act.  The  third  act 
was  even  duller  still,  mainly  owing  to  the  darkness  and  the  failure  of  Mr. 
Irving  to  make  any  impression  whatever  in  his  long  soliloquy.  The  sudden 
end  of  the  act  with  the  'Richelieu  is  dead,'  and  the  picture,  created  a 
reaction,  but  the  play  was  not  at  this  point  going  well.  No  one  doubted 
that  the  performance  of  Mr.  Irving  was  intelligent  and  extremely  picturesque. 
That  came  without  saying.  But  many  in  the  audience  expected  a  great 
performance,  and  it  did  not  appear  as  if  the  power  was  forthcoming.  As 
a  picture,  the  Richelieu  was  everything  that  could  be  desired,  but  the 
acting  was  only  of  average  merit.  The  excitement  of  the  evening  was  re- 
served for  the  end  of  the  fourth  act,  when  Richelieu  launches  the  curse  of 
Rome  on  Baradas. 

"  Seldom  has  such  excitement  been  seen  at  a  theatre,  and  seldom  have 
we  so  entirely  disagreed  with  the  verdict.  We  said  at  the  outset,  we  agree 
to  differ.  At  this  speech,  and  at  the  final  words,  the  pit  rose,  and  literally 
yelled  for  Mr.  Irving.  But  what  had  been  done?  Voice,  strength,  and 
energy  overtaxed ;  a  speech  delivered  so  incoherently,  that  few  could  follow 
one  syllable  ;  one  of  those  whirlwinds  of  noise  which  creates  applause, 
mainly  owing  to  an  irresistible,  but  still  unhealthy,  excitement.  We  doubt 
not,  many  consider  this  very  great  acting.  It  looks  so  ;  it  sounds  so.  In 
the  last  act  Mr.  Irving  once  more  commanded  our  sympathies,  and  once 
more  disappointed  us.  What  could  be  better  than  the  action,  the  look, 
the  attitude  of  the  old  man  '  semi  mort '  ?  How  really  very  fine  was  that 
scene  when  the  secretaries  told  their  story,  and  the  Cardinal  half-buried 
and  half-dying  in  the  chair,  watched  his  irresolute  master,  and  waited  for 
the  supreme  moment  of  reaction  !  But  what  followed,  unhappily,  with  the 
reaction — the  loss  of  voice,  the  absence  of  power,  the  acting  which  looked 
wonderful,  mainly  from  its  extravagance.  We  refuse  to  prophesy  concern- 
ing future  verdicts.  We  merely  declare  that  we  disagree  with  that  recorded 
last  night.  A  more  picturesque,  a  possibly  more  intelligent,  Richelieu  has 
seldom  been  seen. 

"  The  audience  deliberately  voted  for  the  management.  With  great  re- 
gret, and  for  reasons  into  which  it  is  impossible  to  enter  now,  we  cannot 
endorse  the  popular  verdict." 


1 874]  "PHILIP"  161 

Henry  Irving  had  other  matters  to  disturb  him  in  1873 
beyond  a  little  adverse  criticism  which,  however  much  or  how 
little,  deserved,  did  not  affect  the  public  estimation  of  him. 
During  the  run  of  "  Richelieu,"  he  was  troubled  by  the  illness 
of  his  father.  On  a  certain  Sunday  morning,  he  sent  a  letter 
by  messenger  to  his  friend,  Frank  Marshall,  which  speaks  for 
itself: — 

"  MY  DEAR  FRANK, 

"  I  am  very  sorry  that  I  can't  be  with  you  to-day. 
I  start  for  Birmingham  at  five  o'clock — my  father  is  ill  there 
and  has  expressed  a  wish  to  see  me. 

"  Please  tell  your  brother  how  I  regret  being  unable  to  ac- 
cept his  hospitality. 

"  I  struggled  hard  last  night  to  be  with  you — but  was 
really  too  done  up.  Richelieu  twice  is  a  trifle  too  much." 

Here  we  see  the  young  actor  of  thirty-five,  having  played 
a  most  arduous  part  in  the  afternoon  and  again  in  the  evening 
of  the  previous  day,  journeying  to  Birmingham  in  order  to 
see  his  sick  father,  and  returning  to  London  in  time  to  resume 
his  work  at  the  theatre  on  the  Monday.  Until  the  shadow 
of  the  end  fell  upon  him,  Irving  never  betrayed  any  feeling  of 
fatigue  or  depression  to  those  who  met  him,  either  in  business 
or  socially.  He  had  an  iron  constitution,  of  which  he  was 
justly  proud.  His  father,  it  may  be  mentioned  here,  kept 
his  affectionate  record  of  his  son's  career  until  the  end  of  the 
summer  season  of  1874.  Samuel  Brodribb  died,  in  Bristol, 
on  2Oth  June,  1876,  so  that  he  lived  to  know  of  his  son's 
great  triumph  as  Hamlet. 

As  we  have  the  documentary  evidence  of  the  Standard— 
and  other  papers — to  testify,  Irving  stimulated  himself  to 
further  efforts  after  the  first  night  of  Lytton's  play,  and  his 
Richelieu  became  a  great  achievement.  It  was  an  extremely 
popular  performance,  not  only  in  London,  but  when,  at  the 
end  of  the  season,  he  went  on  tour  with  it  in  the  provinces. 
"  Richelieu"  was  succeeded,  on  Saturday,  7th  February,  1874, 
by  "  Philip,"  a  drama  in  four  acts,  by  Hamilton  Aide,  in 

VOL.  I.  II 


162         THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  x. 

which  Irving  acted  the  part  of  a  romantic  young  lover,  who 
imagines  that  he  is  a  murderer.  For,  at  the  end  of  the  first 
act,  Philip,  in  self-defence,  shoots  his  half-brother,  and  leaves 
him  for  dead.  In  the  later  acts,  Philip,  having  married  his 
first  love,  about  whom  he  had  quarrelled  and  for  whom  he 
had  committed — as  he  thinks — a  terrible  crime,  is  actuated 
by  the  pangs  of  jealousy.  So  that,  in  some  respects,  Philip 
resembled  Eugene  Aram,  for  both  characters  are  overcome 
by  remorse.  In  the  last  act,  Philip,  maddened  by  the  thought 
that  his  wife  is  unfaithful,  and  knowing  that  the  man  whom 
he  suspects  is  concealed  within  his  wife's  oratory,  orders  the 


PHILIP. 
First  acted  at  the  Lyceum  on  yth  February,  1874. 


COUNT  PHILIP  DE  MIRAFLORE 
COUNT  JUAN  DE  MIRAFLORE 
COUNT  DE  FLAMARENS 
BARON  DE  BEAUFORT  - 
SAINT  AIGNAN 
MONSIEUR  DE  BRIMONT 
THIBAULT  -        -        -        - 
COUNT  KITCHAKOFF    - 
COUNT  DE  CHARENTE- 
MARQUIS  DE  LALLEMONT    - 
MONSIEUR  VIREY 
SERVANT    - 
MADAME  DE  PRIVOISIN 
COUNTESS  DE  MIRAFLORE  - 
LOUISE       - 

INEZ 

MARIE        -        ... 


Mr.  HENRY  IRVING. 
Mr.  JOHN  CLAYTON. 
Mr.  H.  B.  CONWAY. 
Mr.  F.  CHARLES. 
Mr.  BRENNEND. 
Mr.  BEAUMONT. 
Mr.  JOHN  CARTER. 
Mr.  HARWOOD. 
Mr.  BRANSCOMBE. 

Mr.  COLLETT. 

Mr.  TAPPING. 

Mr.  A.  LENEPVEN. 

Miss  VIRGINIA  FRANCIS. 

Miss  G.  PAUNCEFORT. 

Miss  St.  ANGE. 

Miss  J.  HENRI. 

Miss  ISABEL  BATEMAN. 


ACT  I.  Exterior  of  Ancient  Moorish  Castle  in  Andalusia. 
Parapet  overlooking  the  Guadalquiver.  Act  II.  Salon  of  Ma- 
dame de  Privoisin  in  Paris.  Act  III.  Exterior  of  the  Chateau 
de  St.  Leon  in  Brittany.  Act  IV.  The  Boudoir  and  Oratory 
of  Madame  de  St.  Leon. 


entrance  thereto  to  be  bricked  up.  After  a  scene  of  terrible 
suspense,  the  object  of  Philip's  jealousy  is  released,  and  the 
jealous  husband,  relieved  at  finding  that  the  man  is  his  half- 
brother,  whom  he  had  left  for  dead  eight  years  previously, 
allows  him  to  depart,  and  a  fairly  happy  ending  brings  the 
drama  to  a  close.  There  is  nothing  very  much  in  the  play, 
and,  although  the  scene  was  laid  amid  romantic  surroundings, 
it  might  just  as  well  have  been  in  England  as  in  Andalusia  or 


1 874]  INTELLECTUAL  FORCE  163 

France.  The  critics  complained  that  there  was  "no  Spanish 
colouring  to  the  dialogue,"  but  a  more  serious  fault  was  the 
lack  of  novelty.  The  dramatic  incident  of  the  last  act,  first 
related  in  one  of  Balzac's  novels,  had  already  done  duty  on 
the  stage  in  a  French  drama  which,  adapted  by  Morris  Barnett 
under  the  title  of  "The  Married  Unmarried,"  had  been  pro- 
duced, within  the  memory  of  many  playgoers,  by  Charles  Kean, 
when  the  process  of  bricking-up  the  too  ardent  lover  was 
shown  to  the  audience  with  abundance  of  harrowing  detail. 
Mr.  Aide's  play  possessed  much  literary  grace,  but,  despite 
the  supposititious  murder  of  the  first  act — in  reality,  a  pro- 
logue— and  the  walling-up  incident  of  the  last  act,  it  was  not 
a  good  drama.  Still,  Irving  drew  much  credit  to  himself  by 
his  impersonation  of  the  leading  part.  "The  play  owes  its 
most  intellectual  attraction  to  the  fine  acting  of  Mr.  Irving, 
who  gives  artistic  and  impassioned  expression  to  the  love, 
pride,  anger,  jealousy,  and  high-souled  sense  of  honour  which 
are  the  chief  constituents  in  the  character  of  Philip,"  said  the 
Morning  Post,  "the  transport  of  indignant  rage  flashing  from 
the  face  of  the  young  Spaniard,  and  thrilling  every  nerve  and 
fibre  of  his  frame  in  his  quarrel  with  his  recreant  brother,  is 
only  to  be  equalled  by  the  terror,  anguish,  and  remorse  with 
which  Philip  surveyed  the  prostrate  body  of  the  kinsman 
whom  he  is  supposed  to  have  slain." 

Even  with  such  a  slight  and  unsatisfactory  part — in  com- 
parison with  his  preceding  characters  at  the  Lyceum — Irving 
attracted  a  vast  amount  of  attention.  His  position  at  this 
period  is  clearly  shown  by  an  article  in  the  Globe  on  the 
Monday  following  the  production  of  Mr.  Aide's  play.  "The 
progress  of  Mr.  Irving,"  it  said,  "cannot  but  be  watched  with 
interest  by  all  who  care  for  the  welfare  of  the  stage.  He  is 
among  the  few  actors  of  the  time  who  can  bring  a  strong 
intellectual  force  to  the  consideration  of  many  problems  of 
their  art,  and  in  certain  qualities  of  strength  and  intensity  he 
stands  alone.  His  presence  on  the  stage  carries  always  the 
conviction  of  earnestness  and  serious  purpose,  which,  coming 
amongst  much  that  is  only  half-hearted  and  of  vague  meaning, 


1 64         THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  x. 

is  absolutely  startling  in  its  effect.  Everything  done  is  felt  to 
have  been  done  deliberately.  Critics  may  differ  as  to  the 
merit  of  the  conception,  but  it  is  impossible  to  complain  that 
it  is  not  clearly  and  definitely  set  before  them.  The  motive 
is  always  consistent,  the  expression  always  precise,  and  in 
these  two  facts  alone  there  is  much  to  distinguish  Mr.  Irving 
from  the  larger  number  of  his  fellows.  Thus  it  happens  that 
what  he  does,  whether  rightly  or  wrongly,  serves  at  least  to 
awaken  interest  and  criticism.  It  is  impossible  to  feel  in- 
different to  what  bears  so  strong  an  impress  of  individuality, 
and  if  the  interpretation  given  is  not  felt  to  be  true  and 
accurate,  there  is  at  least  sufficient  strength  in  it  to  suggest 
anew  the  problems  with  which  the  actor  has  tried  to  grapple." 
The  same  observant  critic  indicated  a  curious  belief  which 
had  grown  up  concerning  the  actor  in  regard  to  the  audiences 
at  the  Lyceum  which  "have  so  often  beheld  Mr.  Irving  re- 
morseful for  murders  actually  committed  that  it  is  a  little 
difficult  to  believe  in  his  innocence  now ;  and  when  it  was 
found  that  Philip  really  had  not  slain  his  brother,  the  sense  of 
relief  was  not  wholly  unmixed  with  a  measure  of  incredulity  ". 
One  can  quite  imagine  that  the  impersonator  of  Mathias  and 
Eugene  Aram  had  inspired  certain  people  with  the  idea  that 
he  could  seldom  be  innocent  on  the  stage.  It  took  a  number 
of  years  to  remove  that  impression. 

On  Monday,  ist  June,  the  actor  gave  fresh  proof  of  his 
untiring  spirit,  his  unceasing  desire  to  improve  upon  his 
previous  work.  On  that  evening,  "Charles  the  First"  was 
revived,  and  the  occasion  called  forth  fresh  criticism  and  all 
of  a  favourable  nature.  The  Daily  Telegraph  had  a  long 
article  referring  once  more,  in  the  most  laudatory  terms,  to 
the  play  and  the  chief  player.  Having  called  attention  to  the 
worth  of  Mr.  Wills's  drama,  it  proceeded :  "No  better  proof 
can  be  given  of  its  value  than  the  cheers  which  burst  out  at 
the  conclusion  of  the  second  act,  and  the  streaming  eyes 
giving  evidence  of  the  author's  subtle  power  over  the  heart. 
There  are  new  reasons,  however,  for  strongly  and  earnestly 
recommending  a  renewed  acquaintance  with  this  play,  and 


1874]        CHARLES  THE  FIRST  AGAIN 


165 


they  will  be  found  chiefly  in  the  acting  which,  throughout  its 
long  career,  was  never  better  than  at  this  moment.  Famili- 
arity with  the  work  does  not  now,  as  in  so  many  instances, 
suggest  a  fatigue  and  distaste  for  it.  All  have  approached 
their  task  with  new  energy,  fresh  fire,  and  refined  taste. 
Critical  essays  of  some  worth  have  been  written  on  the 
Charles  the  First  of  Mr.  Henry  Irving — of  all  his  perform- 
ances, the  most  genuine,  the  least  mannered,  and  the  most 
highly  cultivated.  His  warmest  admirers  will  find  in  the  re- 
vived Charles  fresh  motive  for  honest  praise.  Never  before 
has  he  expressed  with  such  artistic  nicety  the  o'ershadowing 
of  pathos  over  the  sad  King's  life  or  the  struggle  against 
inevitable  fate."  There  was  more  to  the  same  purport,  and 
the  Queen  of  Miss  Isabel  Bateman  was  cordially  approved. 
The  cast  was  materially  strengthened  for  the  revival  by  the 
appearance  and  acting  of  John  Clayton,  a  most  admirable 
Cromwell.  There  was  also  a  new  Moray  in  Mr.  H.  B.  Con- 
way.  Monday,  22nd  June,  1874,  was  fixed  for  the  last  night 
of  the  season  and  the  benefit  of  the  leading  actor,  who  elected 
to  appear  in  the  widely-contrasted  characters  of  Eugene 
Aram  and  Jeremy  Diddler. 


CHAPTER  XL 

1874-1875. 

Irving's  first  appearance  in  London  as  Hamlet — Melancholy  fore- 
bodings not  justified — The  poor  scenery  for  this  revival  of  "  Hamlet  " — The 
Lyceum  pit — Irving's  feelings  on  the  first  night — An  "electrical"  effect  on 
the  audience — Clement  Scott's  vivid  description — The  hundredth  repre- 
sentation— A  pleasant  supper — Irving's  success  influences  other  managers — 
Death  of  "  Colonel "  Bateman — Irving's  tribute  to  his  old  manager- 
Tennyson  and  Frith  on  Irving's  Hamlet — Sir  Edward  Russell's  essay  on 
Irving  as  Hamlet. 

BEFORE  he  was  thirty-six  years  of  age,  Irving  had  borne  the 
brunt  of  much  criticism.  But  it  was  honest  criticism — not 
mere  abuse,  such  as  was,  very  soon  afterwards,  heaped  upon 
him — and  he  had  profited  by  it.  He  made  an  artistic  triumph 
in  "Richelieu";  and  the  public  applauded  his  improved  im- 
personation for  more  consecutive  performances  than  had  ever 
been  given  of  the  play.  This  feat  was  all  the  more  remark- 
able, seeing  that  it  was  achieved  despite  comparison  and  de- 
spite the  hide-bound  tradition  of  " point-making  ".  He  had, 
however,  apart  from  establishing  himself  firmly  with  the  pub- 
lic, obtained  recognition  as  an  actor  who  could  think  for  him- 
self. Even  since  his  death,  his  detractors — and  he  had  many 
after  his  death,  as  in  his  life — have  admitted  the  possession 
of  intellect.  They  conceded  this  point,  in  1874,  when 
they  could  not  admit  anything  else  that  was  a  virtue.  They 
granted  that  at  any  rate  he  was  original.  His  Mathias, 
Charles,  and  Eugene  Aram  were  creations  in  the  literal, 
as  well  as  in  the  French,  meaning  of  the  term,  and  his  con- 
ception of  the  character  of  Richelieu  differed  from  that  of  his 
predecessors  and  was  afterwards  recognised  as  a  great  im- 
personation. This  was  all  very  well,  said  his  enemies,  but  it 
was  no  matter  after  all,  for  Mathias  was  not  to  be  compared 

166 


1874]  HAMLET  167 

even  to  the  well-known  characters  in  the  classic  drama,  and 
Bulwer  Lytton  was  not  Shakespeare.  All  of  which  was 
perfectly  true.  So  that  when  it  was  whispered  that  the  new 
actor  intended  to  attempt  to  play  Hamlet,  the  rumour  was  re- 
ceived with  incredulity.  As  the  report  grew  into  certainty, 
it  spread  consternation  in  the  camp  of  the  enemy.  Surprise 
gave  way  to  indignation,  and  the  definite  date  for  the  trial 
was  treated  with  a  combination  of  wrath  and  contempt.  But 
the  wiseacres,  who  by  this  time  should  have  respected  the 
determination  of  the  player,  even  though  they  could  not  ad- 
mire his  art,  were  rash  in  prophesying  disaster.  As  for  the 
statement  that  Henry  Irving  had  once  played  Hamlet  some- 
where in  the  provinces,  such  ridiculous  experiments  might  go 
down  in  Manchester  or  wherever  it  was,  but  London,  for- 
sooth !  Just  let  him  try !  Well,  he  did  try,  and  with  the 
same  grim  determination  which  never  forsook  him,  and  with 
the  same  inward  sense  of  humour  which  enabled  him  to  en- 
dure trials  to  which  no  other  actor  was  ever  subjected.  Even 
his  friend,  the  manager — and  Bateman  was  a  real  friend,  as 
Irving  frequently  acknowledged — was  as  doubtful  about 
"  Hamlet  "as  he  had  been  about  "The  Bells".  "What  I 
did  play,  by  my  own  desire,  and  against  his — Bateman's— 
belief  in  its  success,  was  Hamlet ;  for  you  must  know  that 
at  that  time  there  was  a  motto  among  managers — *  Shake- 
speare spells  ruin'."  This  saying,  it  may  be  mentioned, 
originated  with  the  manager  of  Drury  Lane,  F.  B.  Chatter- 
ton,  who,  in  September,  1873,  had  produced  "Antony  and 
Cleopatra  "  with  magnificent  scenery — and  disastrous  results. 
His  spectacular  revival  of  "  Sardanapalus  "  had  no  better  fate. 
Hence  arose  his  lament,  "Shakespeare  spells  ruin  and  Byron 
bankruptcy,"  which  became  a  stock-phrase  in  the  theatrical 
world. 

So  that,  with  the  adverse  criticism  in  advance  to  which 
Irving  was  subjected  and  the  disaster  of  Drury  Lane  as  an 
example,  it  would  be  unfair  to  blame  Bateman  for  his  lack 
of  enthusiasm  about  "  Hamlet ".  He  tried  a  revival  of  "  The 
Bells,"  with  which  the  season  began  on  28th  September, 


1 68       THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  XL 


1874;  and,  on    Saturday,  3ist  October,  the  great   venture 
took  place.     Bateman's  absolute  want  of  faith  in  the  experi- 


HAMLET. 
Revived  at  the  Lyceum  on  3  ist  October,  1874. 


HAMLET 

KING 

POLONIUS 

LAERTES 

HORATIO 

GHOST  - 

OSRIC    - 

ROSENCRANTZ 

GUILDENSTERN 

MARCELLUS   - 

BERNARDO     - 

FRANCISCO      - 

ist  ACTOR 

2nd  ACTOR 

PRIEST  - 

MESSENGER   - 

ist  GRAVEDIGGER  - 

2nd  GRAVEDIGGER 

GERTRUDE     - 

PLAYER  QUEEN 

OPHELIA 


Mr.  HENRY  IRVING. 

Mr.  THOMAS  SWINBOURNE. 

Mr.  CHIPPENDALE. 

Mr.  E.  LEATHES. 

Mr.  G.  NEVILLE. 

Mr.  THOMAS  MEAD. 

Mr.  H.  B.  CONWAY. 

Mr.  WEBBER. 

Mr.  BEAUMONT. 

Mr.  F.  CLEMENTS. 

Mr.  TAPPING. 

Mr.  HARWOOD. 

Mr.  BEVERIDGE. 

Mr.  NORMAN. 

Mr.  COLLETT. 

Mr.  BRANSCOMBE. 

Mr.  COMPTON. 

Mr.  CHAPMAN. 

Miss  G.  PAUNCEFORT. 

Miss  HAMPDEN. 

Miss  ISABEL  BATEMAN. 


ACT  I.,  SCENE  i.  Elsinore.  A  platform  before  the  Castle. 
SCENE  2.  A  Room  of  State  in  the  Castle.  SCENE  3.  A  Room 
in  Polonius's  House.  SCENE  4.  The  platform.  SCENE  5.  A 
more  remote  part.  ACT  II.,  SCENE  i.  A  Room  in  Polonius's 
House.  SCENE  2.  A  Room  of  State  in  the  Castle.  ACT  III., 
SCENE  i.  The  same.  SCENE  2.  A  Room  in  the  Castle.  SCENE 
3.  Another  Room  in  the  same.  ACT  IV.,  SCENE  i.  A  Room  in 
the  Castle.  ACT  V.,  SCENE  i.  A  Churchyard.  SCENE  2. 
Outside  the  Castle.  SCENE  3.  A  Hall  in  the  Castle. 


ment  was  conclusively  shown  in  the  scantiness  of  the  produc- 
tion from  the  scenic  point  of  view.  He  had  backed  up 
"  Charles  the  First"  and  "  Richelieu"  with  considerable  liber- 
ality in  regard  to  scenery  and  costume.  But  he  left 
"  Hamlet"  to  shift  for  itself,  the  total  expenditure  in  this  case 
amounting  to  a  poor  hundred  pounds,  although,  in  various 
managerial  pronouncements,  he  had  whetted  the  public  ap- 
petite by  hints  as  to  "  months  of  careful  preparation,"  and 
similar  cajolements  which  would  have  no  effect  nowadays. 
Such  was  the  poverty  of  the  production  that  even  Irving's 
stern  adversary,  Button  Cook,  was  moved  to  point  out  that 
there  was  "no  particular  desire  to  garnish  the  play  with 
spangles,  with  needless  upholstery,  or  with  swarms  of  super- 


1 874]  MEAGRE  SCENERY  169 

numeraries.  The  scenic  decorations  are  reasonably  appropri- 
ate, but  do  not  pretend  to  be  of  luxurious  quality  :  there  is 
thriftiness,  indeed,  in  employing  the  view  of  the  churchyard 
in  which  Eugene  Aram  was  wont  nightly  to  expire  in  great 
agonies  a  season  or  two  ago  as  the  background  to  the  repre- 
sentation of  the  interment  of  Ophelia."  Irving  had  to  depend 
upon  himself,  upon  his  own  unaided  efforts,  for  success  in  this 
culminating  point  of  his  career.  Failure  now  would  have 
meant  disaster  from  which  recovery  would  have  been  difficult 
in  the  extreme,  if  not  absolutely  impossible.  His  ambition 
did  not  desert  him  and  he  knew  that  he  had  the  faith  of  the 
public.  This  was  his  great  consolation  and  the  final  spur  to 
his  endeavour.  If  the  manager  had  announced,  instead  of 
"months  of  careful  preparation"  as  applied  to  the  playhouse, 
''years  of  careful  preparation"  on  the  part  of  the  actor,  he 
would  have  been  near  the  truth.  For  the  Hamlet  of  1864 
was  by  no  means  the  work  of  a  novice,  and,  in  the  interven- 
ing ten  years,  Henry  Irving  had  not  been  idle.  He  had  won 
his  great  fight  to  a  certain  point,  but  his  Hamlet  was  a 
matter  of  vital  importance  to  him.  Apart  from  other  con- 
siderations, it  differed  from  the  impersonations  of  the  majority 
of  celebrated  actors,  who,  before  coming  to  London,  had  be- 
come celebrated  in  the  country  for  their  interpretations  of  the 
leading  parts  in  Shakespeare.  They  had,  as  a  result,  a  fixed 
idea  as  to  how  far  they  could  go  in  the  bid  for  applause  and 
what  effects  they  could  reasonably  be  expected  to  make. 
Irving's  interpretation  was  an  untried  performance  and 
one  that  was  to  be  the  touchstone  of  his  career.  However, 
his  faith  in  himself  never  wavered,  and  the  interest  of  the 
public  was  so  great  that  the  patrons  of  the  pit  assembled  four 
hours  before  the  opening  of  the  doors  at  seven  o'clock  in 
their  eagerness  to  see  the  new  Hamlet.  In  those  days,  the 
occupants  of  the  pit,  apart  from  the  professional  critics,  were 
the  real  judges  of  dramatic  art,  and  their  verdict  on  a  first 
night  was  of  vital  moment  to  the  success  of  an  actor  or  a  play. 
The  pit  occupied  almost  the  entire  ground  floor ;  orchestra 
stalls  had  not  come  into  fashion — pit-stalls  were  introduced 


i;o       THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  XL 

into  the  Lyceum  in  1856.  So  that  the  compliment  of  an 
assemblage  at  the  pit-door  at  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon 
was  by  no  means  an  empty  one.  Nor  were  these  earnest 
students  of  the  drama  wanting  in  enthusiasm  for  the  actor  to 
whom,  as  they  well  knew,  the  result  of  that  evening  was 
fraught  with  gravity.  But  they  were  inclined  to  be  reserved 
in  their  judgment.  He  was  greeted  with  great  warmth  when 
he  made  his  entrance  in  the  first  act,  but  the  simplicity  of  his 
appearance  amazed  his  audience.  As  the  readers  of  this 
history  are  aware,  Irving  had,  in  the  year  1864,  represented 
Kemble  as  Hamlet,  and  he  could  now,  had  he  chosen,  have 
appeared  as  an  exact  fac-simile  of  Lawrence's  famous  portrait. 
But  he  relied  upon  himself,  and  he  did  not  now  adopt — as  he 
had  done  in  Manchester — the  fair  wig  which  owed  its  initia- 
tive to  Fechter.  He  discarded  the  elaborate  funereal  trap- 
pings of  the  old-fashioned  Hamlet,  and  the  gigantic  order  of 
the  Danish  Elephant  which  had  been  conspicuous  as  part  of 
the  costume  of  Fechter — his  immediate  predecessor  in  the 
part — was  not  to  be  seen.  The  best  personal  description  of 
Irving  as  Hamlet  on  this  eventful  night,  and  of  his  reception 
in  the  part,  was  written  by  Clement  Scott,  who  was  now  as 
enthusiastic  as  he  had  been  condemnatory  in  regard  to 
Richelieu.  "We  see  before  us,"  he  wrote,  immediately 
after  the  event,  "a  man  and  a  prince,  in  thick-ribbed  silk,  and 
a  jacket  or  paletot,  edged  with  fur ;  a  tall,  imposing  figure,  so 
well-dressed  that  nothing  distracts  the  eye  from  the  wonderful 
face  ;  a  costume  rich  but  simple,  and  relieved  only  by  a  heavy 
chain  of  gold  ;  but,  above  and  beyond  all,  a  troubled,  wearied 
face.  The  black,  disordered  hair  is  carelessly  tossed  about 
the  forehead,  but  the  fixed  and  rapt  attention  of  the  whole 
house  is  directed  to  the  eyes  of  Hamlet :  the  eyes  which  de- 
note the  trouble — which  tell  of  the  distracted  mind.  Here 
are  'the  windy  suspiration  of  forced  breath,'  '  the  fruitful  river 
in  the  eye,'  the  dejected  *  haviour  of  the  visage  '.  So  subtle 
is  the  actor's  art,  so  intense  is  his  application,  and  so  daring 
his  disregard  of  conventionality,  that  the  first  act  ends  with 
disappointment." 


1 874]          AN  "ELECTRICAL"  EFFECT  171 

This  was  not  a  hopeful  beginning,  especially  for  an  actor 
who  knew  that  when  Garrick  left  the  stage  after  Hamlet's 
first  scene  with  the  Ghost  the  applause  of  the  audience  was 
deafening  and  was  continued  until  the  two  characters  re- 
appeared. Almost  two  acts  of  the  tragedy  were  allowed  to 
pass  in  silence  at  the  Lyceum  before  the  spectators  began  to 
understand  the  actor  and  what  he  had  in  his  mind.  At  the 
end  of  the  first  act,  Irving  left  the  stage  with  a  feeling  of  de- 
pression, which  was  not  to  be  wondered  at.  But  this  feeling 
was  caused  by  the  thought  that  he  had  failed  to  reach  the 
ideal  for  which  he  had  been  striving.  "  I  felt,"  as  he  after- 
wards related  about  this  first-night,  "that  the  audience  did 
not  go  with  me  until  the  first  meeting  with  Ophelia,  when 
they  changed  towards  me  entirely."  From  this  point  in  the 
play,  his  personation  was  recognised  by  the  spectators  as  the 
most  human  Hamlet  that  they  had  ever  seen.  His  success 
in  the  play  scene  was- — electrical.  There  is  no  other  word 
which  so  exactly  describes  it,  and,  as  so  many  people  seem 
to  think  that  this  kind  of  tremendous,  instantaneous,  over- 
whelming effect  caused  by  an  actor  is  akin  to  genius,  or  the 
direct  outcome  of  that  badly  defined  gift,  it  may  be  fitting  to 
mention  the  bare  fact,  before  giving  a  critical  account  of  the 
impersonation.  It  should  also  be  recorded  that  the  audience 
remained  until  after  a  quarter  to  one  o'clock  on  the  Sunday 
morning — at  which  hour  the  curtain  fell.  This  circumstance 
enabled  Clement  Scott  to  indulge  in  some  of  that  "picturesque 
reporting,"  as  he  called  his  criticisms,  for  which  he  was  noted. 
But  Mr.  Scott,  in  those  early  days  of  his  career,  was  far  more 
than  a  picturesque  reporter — he  loved  the  stage  and  all  that 
was  highest  in  its  art.  He  was,  above  all,  an  enthusiast,  and 
his  criticisms — reviews,  reports,  pen-portraits,  call  them  what 
you  will — are  certainly  valuable  as  truthful  impressions.  We 
have,  in  the  illustrations  of  this  biography,  two  portraits  of 
Irving  as  Hamlet,  while  Onslow  Ford's  beautiful  statue 
shows,  in  addition,  the  delicate  hands  for  which  Irving  was 
so  distinguished.  These  will  speak  for  themselves  to  future 
students  of  stage  history.  Aided  by  Scott's  impressionist 


172       THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  XL 

pen-picture,  we  can  get  an  accurate  view  of  Irving  as  he  ap- 
peared as  Hamlet  on  this  memorable  first  night.  It  is  not 
necessary  to  quote  the  article  in  its  entirety,  but  its  salient 
passages  are  as  follows  :— 

"  Those  who  have  seen  other  Hamlets  are  aghast.  Mr.  Irving  is  missing 
his  points,  he  is  neglecting  his  opportunities.  Betterton's  face  turned  as 
white  as  his  neck-cloth,  when  he  saw  the  Ghost.  Garrick  thrilled  the  house 
when  he  followed  the  spirit.  Some  cannot  hear  Mr.  Irving,  others  find 
him  indistinct.  Many  declare  roundly  he  cannot  read  Shakespeare.  There 
are  others  who  generously  observe  that  Hamlets  are  not  judged  by  the 
first  act ;  but  over  all,  disputants  or  enthusiasts,  has  already  been  thrown 
an  indescribable  spell.  None  can  explain  it ;  but  all  are  now  spell-bound. 
The  Hamlet  is  '  thinking  aloud,'  as  Hazlitt  wished.  He  is  as  much  of  the 
gentleman  and  scholar  as  possible,  and  '  as  little  of  the  actor '. 

"  We  in  the  audience  see  the  mind  of  Hamlet.  We  care  little  what  he 
does,  how  he  walks,  when  he  draws  his  sword.  We  can  almost  realise  the 
workings  of  his  brain.  His  soliloquies  are  not  spoken  down  at  the  foot- 
lights to  the  audience.  Hamlet  is  looking  into  a  glass,  into  '  his  mind's 
eye,  Horatio  ! '  His  eyes  are  fixed  apparently  on  nothing,  though  ever 
eloquent.  He  gazes  on  vacancy  and  communes  with  his  conscience.  Those 
only  who  have  closely  watched  Hamlet  through  the  first  act  could  ade- 
quately express  the  impression  made.  But  it  has  affected  the  whole 
audience — the  Kemble  lovers,  the  Kean  admirers,  and  the  Fechter  rhap- 
sodists.  They  do  not  know  how  it  is,  but  they  are  spell-bound  with  the 
incomparable  expression  of  moral  poison. 

"The  second  act  ends  with  nearly  the  same  result.  There  is  not  an 
actor  living  who  on  attempting  Hamlet  has  not  made  his  points  in  the 
speech,  '  Oh  !  what  a  rogue  and  peasant  slave  am  I ! '  But  Mr.  Irving's 
intention  is  not  to  make  points,  but  to  give  a  consistent  reading  of  a 
Hamlet  who  '  thinks  aloud '.  For  one  instant  he  falls  '  a-cursing  like  a 
very  drab,  a  scullion ' ;  but  only  to  relapse  into  a  deeper  despair,  into  more 
profound  thought.  He  is  not  acting,  he  is  not  splitting  the  ears  of  the 
groundlings  ;  he  is  an  artist  concealing  his  art ;  he  is  talking  to  himself;  he 
is  thinking  aloud.  Hamlet  is  suffering  from  moral  poison  and  the  spell 
woven  about  the  audience  is  more  mysterious  and  incomprehensible  in  the 
second  act  than  the  first. 

"  In  the  third  act  the  artist  triumphs.  No  more  doubt,  no  more 
hesitation,  no  more  discussion.  If  Hamlet  is  to  be  played  like  a  scholar 
and  a  gentleman,  and  not  like  an  actor,  this  is  the  Hamlet.  The  scene 
with  Ophelia  turns  the  scale,  and  the  success  is  from  this  instant  complete. 
But  we  must  insist  that  it  was  not  the  triumph  of  an  actor  alone  ;  it  was 
the  realisation  of  all  that  the  artist  has  been  foreshadowing.  Mr.  Irving 
made  no  sudden  and  striking  effect,  as  did  Mr.  Kean.  '  Whatever  nice 
faults  might  be  found  on  this  score,'  says  Hazlitt,  'they  are  amply  re- 
deemed by  the  manner  of  his  coming  back  after  he  has  gone  to  the  ex- 
tremity of  the  stage,  from  a  pang  of  parting  tenderness  to  press  his  lips  to 
Ophelia's  hand.  It  had  an  electrical  effect  on  the  house.'  Mr.  Irving  did 
not  make  his  success  by  any  theatrical  coup,  but  by  the  expression  of  the 


1 874]  A  VIVID  PEN-PICTURE  173 

pent-up  agony  of  a  harassed  and  disappointed  man.  According  to  Mr. 
Irving,  the  very  sight  of  Ophelia  is  the  keynote  of  the  outburst  of  his  moral 
disturbance.  He  loves  this  woman  ;  '  forty  thousand  brothers  '  could  not 
express  his  overwhelming  passion,  and  think  what  might  have  happened  if 
he  had  been  allowed  to  love  her,  if  his  ambition  had  been  realised.  The 
more  he  looks  at  Ophelia,  the  more  he  curses  the  irony  of  fate.  He  is 
surrounded,  overwhelmed,  and  crushed  by  trouble,  annoyance,  and  spies. 

"  They  are  watching  him  behind  the  arras.  Ophelia  is  set  on  to  assist 
their  plot.  They  are  driving  him  mad,  though  he  is  only  feigning  madness. 
What  a  position  for  a  harassed  creature  to  endure !  They  are  all  against 
him.  Hamlet  alone  in  the  world  is  born  to  '  set  it  right '.  He  is  in  the 
height  and  delirium  of  moral  anguish.  The  distraction  of  the  unhinged 
mind,  swinging  and  banging  about  like  a  door ;  the  infinite  love  and  tender- 
ness of  the  man  who  longs  to  be  soft  and  gentle  to  the  woman  he  adores  : 
the  horror  and  hatred  of  being  trapped,  and  watched,  and  spied  upon,  were 
all  expressed  with  consummate  art.  Every  voice  cheered,  and  the  points 
Mr.  Irving  had  lost  as  an  actor  were  amply  atoned  for  by  his  earnestness 
as  an  artist.  Fortified  with  this  genuine  and  heart-stirring  applause,  he 
rose  to  the  occasion.  He  had  been  understood  at  last.  To  have  broken 
down  here  would  have  been  disheartening  ;  but  he  had  triumphed. 

"  The  speech  to  the  players  was  Mr.  Irving's  second  success.  He  did 
not  sit  down  and  lecture.  There  was  no  affectation  or  princely  priggishness 
in  the  scene  at  all.  He  did  not  give  his  ideas  of  art  as  a  prince  to  an  actor, 
but  as  an  artist  to  an  artist.  Mr.  Irving,  to  put  it  colloquially,  buttonholed 
the  First  Player.  He  spoke  to  him  confidentially,  as  one  man  to  another. 
He  stood  up,  and  took  the  actor  into  his  confidence,  with  a  half-deferential 
smile,  as  much  as  to  say,  '  I  do  not  attempt  to  dictate  to  an  artist,  but  still 
these  are  my  views  on  art '.  But  with  all  this  there  was  a  princely  air,  a 
kindly  courtesy,  and  an  exquisite  expression  of  refinement  which  astonished 
the  house  as  much  from  its  daring  as  its  truth.  Mr.  Irving  was  gaming 
ground  with  marvellous  rapidity.  His  exquisite  expression  of  friendship 
for  Horatio  was  no  less  beautiful  than  his  stifled  passion  for  Ophelia.  For 
the  one  he  was  the  pure  and  constant  friend,  for  the  other  the  baffled  lover. 

"  Determined  not  to  be  conquered  by  his  predecessors,  he  made  a  signal 
success  in  the  play  scene.  He  acted  it  with  an  impulsive  energy  beyond 
all  praise.  Point  after  point  was  made  in  a  whirlwind  of  excitement.  He 
lured,  he  tempted,  he  trapped  the  King,  he  drove  out  his  wicked  uncle 
conscience -stricken  and  baffled,  and  with  an  hysterical  yell  of  triumph  he 
sank  down,  '  this  expectancy  and  rose  of  the  fair  State,'  in  the  very  throne 
which  ought  to  have  been  his,  and  which  his  rival  had  just  vacated.  It  is 
difficult  to  describe  the  excitement  occasioned  by  the  acting  in  this  scene. 
When  the  King  had  been  frighted,  the  stage  was  cleared  instantaneously. 
No  one  in  the  house  knew  how  the  people  had  gone  off.  All  eyes  were 
fixed  on  Hamlet  and  the  King ;  all  were  forgetting  the  real  play  and  the 
mock  play,  following  up  every  move  of  the  antagonists,  and,  from  constant 
watching,  they  were  almost  as  exhausted  as  Hamlet  was  when  he  sank  a 
conqueror  into  the  neglected  throne. 

"  It  was  all  over  now.  Hamlet  had  won.  He  would  take  the  Ghost's 
word  for  a  thousand  pounds.  The  clouds  cleared  from  his  brow.  He 
was  no  longer  in  doubt  or  despair.  He  was  the  victor  after  this  mental 


174       THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  XL 

struggle.  The  effects  of  the  moral  poison  had  passed  away,  and  he  attacked 
Rosencrantz  and  Guildenstern  in  the  recorder  scene  with  a  sarcasm  and  a 
withering  scorn  which  were  among  the  results  of  a  reaction  after  pent-up 
agony.  But  this  tremendous  act  was  even  now  not  yet  over.  There  was 
the  closet-scene  still  to  come — a  scene  which  still  further  illustrates  the 
daring  defiance  of  theatrical  tradition  exhibited  by  Mr.  Irving.  If  the 
Hamlet  was  to  be  a  mental  study  it  should  be  one  to  the  last.  The  actor 
who  could  conquer  prejudices  so  far,  was  bound  to  continue,  and  when  the 
audience  looked  at  the  arras  for  the  pictures,  or  round  the  necks  of  the 
actors  and  actresses  for  the  counterfeit  presentment  of  two  brothers,  they 
found  nothing. 

"  The  nervousness  and  paralysing  excitement  occasioned  by  such  an 
evening,  made  its  mark  on  the  actors.  It  was  too  great  an  effort.  The 
fear  of  being  shut  out  from  a  glass  of  beer  before  midnight  frightened  the 
audience,  and  there  were  a  few  minutes  of  doubt  and  anxiety.  But  art 
conquered,  and  the  audience  obeyed.  .  .  . 

"  It  may  be  that  the  intellectual  manager  will  yet  have  to  see  how  far 
"  Hamlet "  can  be  curtailed  to  suit  this  luxurious  and  selfish  age.  There 
are  not  many  audiences  which  will  relinquish  their  beer  for  the  sake  of  art. 
This  was  a  very  special  occasion.  But  the  supreme  moment  for  the 
audience  had  come  when  the  curtain  fell.  If  they  had  sacrificed  their  re- 
freshment, waiting  there,  as  many  of  them  had  done,  since  three  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon,  they  had  done  something  for  art.  They  had,  at  least,  de- 
served the  pleasure  of  cheering  the  artist  who  had  inspired  them.  It  was 
no  '  succes  d'estime '.  The  actor  of  the  evening  had,  in  the  teeth  of  tradi- 
tion, in  the  most  unselfish  manner,  and  in  the  most  highly  artistic  fashion 
convinced  his  hearers.  William  Hazlitt,  the  critic,  was  right.  Here  was 
the  Hamlet  who  thinks  aloud ;  here  was  the  scholar,  and  so  little  of  the 
actor.  So  they  threw  crowns,  and  wreaths,  and  bouquets,  at  the  artist,  and 
the  good  people  felt  that  this  artistic  assistance  had  come  at  a  turning  point 
in  the  history  of  English  dramatic  art.  .  .  .  The  position  of  Mr.  Irving, 
occasionally  wavering  and  pleasantly  hesitating  in  the  balance,  has  now 
been  firmly  established.  The  Hamlet  of  Henry  Irving  is  a  noble  contribu- 
tion to  dramatic  art." 

The  Hamlet  fever  which  set  in  on  the  night  of  3ist 
October,  1874,  raged  for  many  months,  and  ended  only  with 
the  last  night  of  the  revival,  by  which  time  two  hundred  con- 
secutive performances  had  been  recorded.  The  hundredth 
representation  occurred  on  Friday,  26th  February,  1875.  It 
was  celebrated  by  a  supper  which  was  given  in  the  saloon  of 
the  theatre.  The  late  Edward  Pigott,  the  Examiner  of  Plays, 
proposed  the  chief  toast,  and  the  health  of  the  hero  of  the 
hour  was  drunk  with  hearty  good  will,  the  company  number- 
ing over  a  hundred  literary  men,  including  some  of  the  chief 
critics.  A  noteworthy  effect  of  the  success  of  "  Hamlet"  at 


1 874]  DEATH  OF  BATEMAN  175 

the  Lyceum  was  the  change  which  took  place  in  the  public 
taste,  and,  consequently,  in  the  programmes  of  several  theatres. 
For  instance,  when  the  hundredth  night  of  "  Hamlet"  had 
arrived,  Shakespeare  was  being  represented  at  three  other 
theatres  in  London,  the  specialities  of  two  of  which  had  hitherto 
been  burlesque  and  opera-bouffe,  and  of  the  third  equestrian 
performances — "A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,"  at  the 
Gaiety,  "  As  You  Like  It"  at  the  Opera  Comique,  and  "The 
Merchant  of  Venice "  at  the  Holborn  Amphitheatre ;  while 
the  last-named  play  was  in  preparation  at  the  Prince  ofWales's 
Theatre,  the  dainty  home  of  Robertsonian  comedy.  Phelps, 
as  Bottom,  was  the  feature  of  the  Gaiety  revival,  and  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Kendal  were  the  Rosalind  and  Orlando  at  the  Opera 
Comique,  Mr.  Hermann  Vezin  being  the  Jaques. 

The  long  run  of  the  tragedy  at  the  Lyceum  came  to  an  end 
on  2 Qth  June,  1875.  During  all  that  time,  the  theatre  had 
only  been  closed  for  one  week,  and  that  in  consequence  of 
the  death,  on  22nd  March,  of  Mr.  Bateman,  Irving's  friend 
as  well  as  manager.  Afterwards,  in  a  speech  at  the  termina- 
tion of  the  first  night  of  the  revival  of  "  Macbeth,"  Irving  made 
this  graceful  allusion  to  the  old  Colonel :  "  In  my  pride  and 
pleasure  at  your  approval,  I  cannot  but  remember  the  friend 
whose  faith  in  me  was  so  firm,  a  friend  to  whom  my  triumphs 
were  as  dear — aye,  dearer,  I  believe,  than  had  they  been  his 
own.  The  announcement  last  autumn  that  I,  a  young  actor, 
was  thought  fitted  to  attempt  Hamlet  came  from  a  warm  and 
generous  heart,  and  I  cannot  but  deeply  feel  that  he  to  whose 
unceasing  toil  and  unswerving  energy  we  owe  in  great  measure 
the  steadfast  restoration  of  the  poetic  drama  to  the  stage — I 
cannot  but  regret  that  he  will  never  meet  me,  as  he  has  done 
on  so  many  occasions,  to  confirm  your  approval  with  affec- 
tionate enthusiasm  and  tears  of  joy."  The  death  of  Bateman 
was  a  great  loss  to  the  actor  in  more  ways  than  one.  It  left 
him,  for  instance,  open  to  unjustifiable  attack,  since  an  actor 
cannot  always  be  defending  himself,  and,  by  the  death  of 
Bateman,  Irving  lost  a  doughty  champion.  "  Hamlet,"  how- 
ever, continued  to  prosper,  and  so  famous  had  the  actor  be- 


i;6       THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  XL 

come,  that  he  drew  all  ranks  of  people  to  the  theatre,  including 
many  who  had  forsaken  the  playhouse  for  several  years.  All 
artistic  and  literary  London  crowded  to  the  Lyceum  to  see 
Irving  as  Hamlet.  Tennyson  admitted  that  he  "  liked  it 
better  than  Macready's,"  although  it  was  "  not  a  perfect  Hamlet ; 
the  pathetic  side  of  him  is  well  done,  and  the  acting  original ". 
Again,  W.  P.  Frith  considered  Irving's  Hamlet  superior  to 
Macready's.  "  In  a  few  characters,"  he  says,  in  his  Auto- 
biography, "such  as  Virginius,  William  Tell,  Rob  Roy,  and 
some  others,  Macready  was,  I  think,  unapproachable ;  but  to 
compare  his  Hamlet  or  Shy  lock  with  Irving's  rendering  of 
those  characters  would  be  disastrous  for  Macready."  Of 
course,  there  was  much  controversy  concerning  the  new 
Hamlet,  but,  on  the  whole,  it  was  distinctly  in  favour  of 
Irving. 

During  the  first  three  weeks  of  the  tragedy  at  the 
Lyceum,  one  of  the  most  masterly  essays  in  dramatic  critic- 
ism of  modern  days  was  written  by  Edward  R.  Russell,  and 
published  in  the  Liverpool  Daily  Post.  It  was  subsequently 
issued  in  pamphlet  form,  with  the  title,  "Irving  as  Hamlet". 
It  is  now,  and  for  many  years  it  has  been,  difficult  to  obtain 
a  copy  of  this  essay.  This  may  possibly  be  the  reason 
why  other  biographies  have  passed  it  over,  and  why  some 
have  only  alluded  to  it  in  a  few  words.  It  is  a  clear  exposi- 
tion of  the  character,  as  conceived  by  Irving  and  as  played 
by  him.  It  is  one  of  the  most  illuminating  essays  in  the 
entire  history  of  dramatic  criticism.  No  apology  is  needed 
for  drawing  upon  so  invaluable  a  document,  but  regret  may 
be  expressed  that  it  cannot,  owing  to  its  length,  be  reprinted, 
in  this  book,  in  its  entirety  :— 

"  While  believing  that  Hamlet  may  be  successfully  played  with  almost 
any  physique  which  is  not  obnoxiously  unromantic,  we  avow  the  opinion 
that  such  a  physique  as  Irving's — nervous,  excitable,  and  pliant,  suggestive 
of  much  thought  and  dreamy  intellect,  yet  agile  and  natural  and  individual 
in  its  movements — comes  nearer  the  normal  English  pre-conception  of 
such  a  character  than  one  more  characterised  by  physical  beauty  and 
gesticulatory  and  elocutionary  grace.  In  moments  of  high  excitement 
Irving  rapidly  plods  across  and  across  the  stage  with  a  gait  peculiar  to  him 

walk  somewhat  resembling  that  of  a  fretful  man   trying  to  get  very 


1 874]  POETRY  OF  ASPECT  177 

quickly  over  a  ploughed  field.  In  certain  passages  his  voice  has  a  queru- 
lous piping  impatience  which  cannot  be  reconciled  with  stage  elegance. 
But  there  is  no  reason  why  Hamlet  should  not  have  had  these  peculiar- 
ities ;  and  if  we  are  to  see  him  really  living  in  the  midst  of  what  has  come 
upon  him,  the  genius  of  the  actor  who  accomplishes  this  all-important  feat 
as  only  genius  can,  will  be  distinctly  helped  by  any  little  ineffaceable 
peculiarities  which,  while  not  inconsistent  with  the  character,  give  the  re- 
presentation of  it  a  stamp  of  personal  individuality.  This,  though  a  minor 
characteristic,  has  greatly  distinguished  Irving's  acting  in  all  his  noted  parts, 
although  the  merit  has  not  been  much  recognised  in  the  surface  criticism 
of  the  day.  In  each  case — in  Digby  Grant,  Mathias,  Eugene  Aram,  Philip, 
even  in  the  necessarily  stilted  King  Charles,  and,  in  spite  of  too  young- 
looking  a  countenance,  most  pre-eminently  in  Richelieu — play-goers  have 
felt  that  they  have  come  to  know  a  new  and  distinct  and  actual  person,  just 
as  really  and  with  just  as  true  a  sensation  of  novelty  and  kindled  curiosity  as 
when  an  interesting  acquaintance  is  made  at  a  dinner-table  or  in  travelling. 
The  secret  lies  in  a  bold  combination  of  tragedy  with  character  acting, 
which  Irving  has  been  the  first  to  essay.  He  shows  the  nicest  instinct  in 
the  degree  to  which  he  pushes  it.  Those  who  should  expect  his  Hamlet  to 
be  as  minutely  individual  as  his  Richelieu  would  show  almost  as  much 
coarseness  of  perception  as  the  queer  critics  who  praised  him  for  avoiding 
the  temptation  to  make  the  death  of  Hamlet  as  horribly  realistic  as  the 
death  in  'The  Bells'.  But  even  in  his  Hamlet  there  is  a  strongly  marked 
and  courageously  preserved  individuality,  which  is  more  helpful  to  the  due 
effect  of  the  play  than  any  amount  of  insipid  personal  beauty  and  grace. 

"  When  plain  incongruities  have  been  avoided,  and  an  impression  of 
living  personality  instead  of  mere  stage  assumption  has  been  created,  there 
is  little  more  that  manner  and  idiosyncrasy  can  do  to  illuminate  Hamlet. 
The  rest  must  be  acting — thought,  conception,  imagination,  finding  ex- 
pression through  the  various  channels  of  technical  skill,  and  in  this  great 
undertaking  Irving  has  succeeded,  mainly  because  of  the  simpleness  and 
singleness  of  mind  with  which  he  has  addressed  to  it  his  well -disciplined 
powers.  .  .  . 

"  Remembering  past  Hamlets — good  and  great  as  many  have  been — it 
seems  to  us  that  there  remained  yet  one  new  though  obvious  conception  to 
be  realised.  Every  great  actor  has  been  anxious  to  show  how  he  could  play 
Hamlet ;  no  one  has  quite  succeeded  in  showing  how  Hamlet  would  have 
played  it.  And  this  is  what  Irving  does.  It  is  some  years  since  Edwin 
Booth,  who  most  nearly  approached  this  natural  and  touching  conception, 
was  in  England,  and  the  impressions  under  which  we  name  him  are  there- 
fore not  fresh.  That  he  is  the  best  or  at  least  the  truest  Hamlet,  except 
Irving,  we  have,  however,  no  doubt.  He  is  so  unequal  an  actor  that  his 
other  performances  give  no  indication  of  the  grace,  the  intellect,  the  poig- 
nant nature  of  his  Hamlet ;  and  the  highest  praise  that  can  be  accorded  to 
Irving  is  that  to  the  princeliness,  the  ease,  the  gravity,  the  intellect,  and  the 
naturalness  of  Booth — all  of  which  he  possesses,  though  a  little  more  deeply 
stamped  with  personal  manner — he  adds  these  two  remarkably  contrasted 
qualities :  a  sort  of  domestic  sensibility  of  the  calamities  and  perplexities 
by  which  Hamlet  is  inundated,  and  a  wild  poetry  of  aspect  and  speech 
which  till  now — unless  indeed  by  the  old  actors  before  our  time— has  not 

VOL.  I.  12 


178       THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  XL 

been  even  hinted  except  by  painters.  The  root  of  all,  as  we  divine,  is  a 
simple,  steady  resolution  on  Irving's  part  to  be  what  Hamlet  must  have 
been,  and  to  let  the  rest  take  care  of  itself.  If  being  Hamlet  should 
lead  to  good  points,  they  would  be  welcome,  and  the  applause  evoked  by 
them  would  be  as  delicious  to  Irving  as  to  another;  but  to  make  points  by 
ceasing  to  be  Hamlet  was  to  him  an  impossible  profanation.  When 
certain  critics  tell  him  he  still  lacks  the  characteristics  of  the  great  French 
actors,  they  little  appreciate  his  avoidance  of  all  that  is  worst  in  French 
tragedy,  and  have  failed  to  perceive  how  deeply  he  has  drunk  of  the  spring 
of  all  that  is  best  in  French  comedy — finding  in  it  a  tragic  inspiration 
which  it  might  least  have  been  expected  to  yield.  ...  A  little  common 
sense  is  worth  a  good  deal  of  subtlety  here  ;  and  to  appreciate  what  Hamlet 
goes  through,  without  preconceptions — which  is  what  we  imagine  Irving  to 
have  done — is  the  best  way  of  raising  to  the  highest  point  the  human  in- 
terest of  the  character.  In  reading  much  of  the  criticism  on  Hamlet,  one 
feels  that  it  is  written  in  an  artificial  manner  by  persons  who  have  never 
really  conceived  what  has  happened  to  the  hero,  and  are  not  properly  im- 
pressed with  the  difficulty  of  his  extricating  himself  from  the  circumstances 
in  which  he  is  placed.  It  is  positively  laughable  to  hear  Hamlet  sneered  at 
for  infirmity  of  purpose  by  writers  who  probably  never  in  their  lives  had  a 
more  serious  question  to  settle  than  whether  they  should  give  up  a  house 
at  the  Midsummer  or  Christmas  quarter.  Nor  is  it  much  less  ludicrous  to 
read  in  an  ambitious  critique,  that  Irving  as  Hamlet  shows  an  unmanly 
degree  of  dejection.  As  if  having  to  kill  your  mother's  second  husband 
within  a  few  months  of  your  father's  murder,  upon  the  injunction  of  your 
father's  ghost,  were  a  quite  ordinary  piece  of  work  by  which  no  well-regulated 
mind  would  suffer  itself  to  be  disturbed  ! 

"The  tone  and  spirit  of  the  whole  play,  and  of  Irving's  impersonation, 
and  of  the  Lyceum  representation,  is  at  antipodes  with  such  ideas.  The 
mounting  of  the  play  has  been  studiously  kept  from  being  too  splendid. 
It  is  regal,  but  eminently  domestic.  The  scenes  without,  where  the  ghost 
is  first  encountered,  are  as  wild  as  the  text  suggests  they  should  be,  but  the 
apartments  of  the  palace  all  look  habitable.  They  are  not  brand  new. 
They  are  not  mere  audience  chambers.  They  are  usable  and  used.  The 
habitues  move  about  as  if  they  were  at  home,  and  at  night  they  light  them- 
selves about  with  torches.  It  is  complained  that  Irving  leaves  one  apart- 
ment torch  in  hand,  and  immediately  enters  his  mother's  chamber  with  a 
bedroom  lamp.  What  more  natural  ?  The  lamp  is  no  doubt  left  without 
the  chamber  on  a  slab,  to  be  lit  at  the  torch  which  is  carried  through  the 
dark  stone  passages,  and  put  out  by  knocking  it  against  the  wall  or  on  the 
foot  when  the  lamp  is  taken  in  hand.  Such  details  are  not  of  the  first 
consequence,  but  they  are  important  when  the  chief  actor  has  seized  the 
idea  that,  to  sustain  the  imagination  in  the  direction  Shakespeare  indicates, 
an  air  of  castle  domesticity  must  be  kept  up,  so  that  the  conception  of  a 
house  blighted  by  the  occurrences  set  forth  in  the  action,  and  finally  en- 
umerated in  the  speech  of  Horatio  which  we  have  quoted  above,  may  be 
the  background  of  all  Hamlet's  dramatic  effects.  Even  the  melodious  but 
primitive  harps  which  sound  at  the  entrance  of  King  and  Queen  in  their 
comparatively  simple  state,  serve  the  general  purpose  which  the  new  Hamlet 
has  kept  steadily  in  view. 


1874]  A  STROKE  OF  GENIUS  179 

"  That  purpose  has,  however,  been  most  brilliantly  served  by  a  new  and 
clear  reading  of  a  hitherto  obscure  aspect  of  Hamlet's  character. 

"  Irving  is  no  mature  dreamer,  long  accustomed  to  metaphysical  prob- 
lems, and  fond  of  putting  them  into  fine  language.  He  is  not  a  precocious 
and  priggish  young  philosopher  airing  his  cleverness.  Nor  is  he  a  mere 
master  of  theatrical  devices,  flooding  the  stage  with  tears  perhaps  at  the 
very  moment  when  Hamlet  complains  that  he  cannot  weep,  or  exemplifying 
that  common  form  of  strenuous  but  imperfect  absorption  in  a  character 
which  practically  amounts  to  making  its  different  phases  inconsistent  with 
each  other.  He  is  what  Hamlet  was.  His  mind  has  been  enlarged  and 
refined  by  much  vagrant  contemplation,  but  has  never  lost  its  exquisite 
simplicity,  its  fresh  susceptibility.  He  is  extremely  self-observant,  not  in 
vanity  or  complacency,  but  because  self-study  is  to  him  a  fascinating  avenue 
through  which  to  approach  all  other  knowledge  of  life  and  character.  And 
from  this  point  Irving  has  advanced  to  a  detail  absolutely  new,  and  posi- 
tively regenerating  to  some  passages,  if  not  to  the  general  scope  of  the 
play.  He  has  noticed  that  Hamlet  not  merely  is  simple-minded,  frankly 
susceptible,  and  naturally  self-contemplative,  but  has  a  trick — not  at  all 
uncommon  in  persons  whose  most  real  life  is  an  inner  one — of  fostering 
and  aggravating  his  own  excitements.  This  discovery  of  Irving  is  a  stroke 
of  genius,  and  will  identify  his  Hamlet  as  long  as  the  memory  of  it  endures. 
The  idea  will  be  handed  down,  and  the  mechanical  execution  of  it  will 
probably  be  imitated;  but  the  vivid,  flashing,  half-foolish,  half-inspired, 
hysterical  power  of  Irving  in  the  passages  where  it  is  developed  is  a  triumph 
of  idiosyncrasy,  which,  even  with  the  help  of  the  traditions  he  is  founding, 
is  not  very  likely  to  be  achieved  by  any  other  actor.  Critics  who  carry 
about  their  own  standards  as  other  artisans  carry  pocket  foot-rules,  may 
pronounce  this  feature  of  Irving's  Hamlet  unmanly ;  but  it  is  the  business 
of  a  great  actor  to  play  Hamlet,  not  to  improve  him.  If  he  was  partly 
hysterical,  and  aggravated  half-consciously  his  own  excitements,  the  actor 
who  plays  him,  and  sees  this,  must  not  hide  it ;  and  if  he  show  it  to  us,  we 
shall  see  in  his  performance  the  truth,  and  probably  the  beauty,  of  a  phase 
of  Shakespeare's  creation  which  has  hitherto  been  neglected.  .  .  .  Few  of 
us  have  Hamlet's  sensitive  constitution.  Still  fewer  have  his  stong  provo- 
cations to  crime.  None  of  us  are  agitated  by  supernatural  visitations.  But 
we  can  all  understand,  as  we  watch  Irving,  how  such  a  man  as  Hamlet 
would  be  affected  by  such  influences.  With  Irving  the  tragedy  is  as  little 
a  show-piece  as  it  would  have  been  to  a  real  Hamlet.  It  is  life  and  death 
you  are  gazing  at  while  he  is  on  the  stage.  The  royal  house  of  Denmark 
has  a  black  shadow  over  it,  and  a  bright,  fresh  young  prince, *  the  rose  and 
expectancy  of  the  fair  State,'  is  doomed  to  peer  amidst  the  gloom,  now 
peopled  with  his  own  imaginings,  and  anon  disturbed  by  a  lurid  and  fitful 
supernatural  light,  for  the  truth  of  its  origin,  and  the  means  of  dissipating 
it  by  vengeance.  Faithful  in  this  pursuit,  Irving  defies  alike  the  temptations 
of  tradition  and  allurements  of  a  text  which  invites  declamation.  He  will 
not  be  drawn  out  of  the  character.  And  the  character  lives  in  him  as  it 
probably  never  lived  before. 

"Upon  one  point  we  differ  from,  or  at  least  cannot  wholly  agree  with, 
the  first  dramatic  critic  of  the  day,  who,  writing  in  the  Times,  has  picked 

12  * 


i8o       THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  XL 

out,  as  the  leading  characteristic  of  Irving's  Hamlet,  a  repugnance  to 
cruelty.  He  says  : — 

'"If  we  rightly  interpret  Mr.  Irving's  performance,  his  reply  to  this 
question  is  to  the  effect  that  the  nature  of  Hamlet  is  essentially  tender, 
loving,  and  merciful.  He  is  not  a  weak  man  called  upon  to  do  something 
beyond  his  powers,  but  he  is  a  kindly  man  urged  to  do  a  deed,  which, 
according  to  the  "  lex  talionis,"  may  be  righteous,  but  which  is  yet  cruel. 
In  Mr.  Henry  Taylor's  "Philip  van  Artevelde,"  one  of  the  personages  asks 
Philip,  in  order  to  ascertain  his  fitness  to  become  a  ruler  in  very  stormy 
times  "Can  you  be  cruel?"  thereby  implying  that  without  something 
like  an  element  of  cruelty  in  his  nature  his  appointed  work  cannot  be 
effectually  done.  According  to  Mr.  Irving — as  we  suppose — it  is  to  the 
utter  lack  of  cruelty  in  his  nature  that  Hamlet's  short-comings  are  to  be 
attributed.  He  is  a  judge  to  whom  the  black  cap  is  so  abhorrent  that  he 
can  never  persuade  himself  to  put  it  on.  Mercy  will  always  usurp  the  seat 
of  Justice  when  her  usurpation  is  least  desirable.  He  is  capable  of  any 
amount  of  sorrow — sorrow  for  his  dead  father,  sorrow  for  Ophelia.  An 
undercurrent  of  tearfulness  runs  through  all  his  discourse,  but  of  unmitigated 
hate  he  is  unsusceptible,  if  we  answer  in  the  negative  Shylock's  question, 
"  Hates  any  man  the  thing  he  would  not  kill  ?  " — more  unsusceptible  than 
he  himself  suspects.  The  hideous  crime  revealed  by  the  ghost  may  cause 
him  to  "  fall  a-cursing  like  a  drab,"  and  bestow  upon  his  uncle  a  large 
number  of  ugly  adjectives ;  but  for  all  that  he  does  not  like  to  kill  him.' 

"  Now  of  the  tenderness  and  lovingness  of  Hamlet's  disposition  we  are 
as  well  persuaded  as  the  writer  of  this  passage.  That  Hamlet  could  not 
possibly  have  been  cruel  without  just  provocation  is  certain ;  and  it  is  not 
less  so  that  gratuitous  cruelty  is  a  quality  impossible  to  be  associated  with 
the  character  as  impersonated  by  Irving.  But  of  any  conscious  revulsion 
against  cruel  vengeance  upon  his  uncle  there  is  no  sign  in  the  play,  and  we 
observed  none  in  the  player.  If  it  is  to  the  '  utter  lack  of  cruelty  in  his 
nature'  that  Hamlet's  shortcomings  are  to  be  attributed,  'according  to 
Irving,'  how  shall  we  account  for  the  restoration  of  the  rarely  played 
scene,  in  which  Hamlet  abstains  from  killing  Claudius  at  his  prayers, 
because  that  would  send  him  straight  to  heaven,  whereas  his  victim, 
Hamlet's  father,  was  suddenly  slain,  with  all  his  imperfections  on  his  head  ? 
Only  by  a  forced  and  untenable  supposition  that,  in  reciting  the  speech  in 
a  tone  of  vehement  savagery,  Irving  means  to  convey  the  idea  that  Hamlet 
is  playing  a  part  to  himself,  and  humouring  his  mercifulness  behind  a  show 
of  refined  cruelty.  ...  It  is  a  mistake  in  philosophy,  as  well  as  in  criticism, 
to  see  in  the  purblind  motions  of  Hamlet  towards  a  more  advanced  moral 
atmosphere,  a  clear  and  conscious  aversion  to  a  cruelty  which  by  him,  and 
all  the  men  of  his  day,  was  deemed  righteous  and  unexceptionable.  And 
especially  is  it  a  mistake  to  read  thus  the  performance  of  an  actor  who,  by 
restoring  and  acting  very  powerfully  the  most  savage  scene  in  which 
Hamlet  appears,  shows  that  he  is  bent'on  facing  all  the  seeming  incongruities 
of  the  character,  and  means  to  succeed,  not  by  presenting  a  sweet  and 
elegant  Hamlet  of  his  own,  but  by  a  true  representation  of  the  much 
harassed  and  almost  distraught  young  prince,  whom  Shakespeare's  search- 
ing eye  saw  as  he  would  have  been,  amidst  the  trouble  and  conflict  into 
which  he  was  plunged.  .  .  . 


1 874]  HAMLET  AND  OPHELIA  181 

"Afterwards,  when  Hamlet,  by  the  contrivance  of  Polonius,  meets 
Ophelia,  we  learn,  in  the  scene  in  which  Irving  rises  highest  perhaps  in 
tragic  grandeur,  that  there  are  circumstances  which  may  bring  out,  even 
when  he  is  not  alone,  the  strange  ecstacy  in  which  is  Hamlet's  nature,  as 
this  fine  actor  reads  it,  to  expatiate.  When  he  begins  to  talk  to  Ophelia 
he  is  on  his  guard.  Other  business  than  love-making  is  in  his  thoughts. 
An  instinct  warns  him  to  shun  the  distractions  and  wooings  of  the  passion. 
Yet  the  fair  Ophelia  is  before  him,  and  the  love  of  forty  thousand  brothers 
is  in  his  heart.  He  has  no  shield,  no  disguise,  but  his  '  antic  disposition  ' ; 
and  he  puts  it  on.  The  rule  with  modern  Hamlets  is  to  pretend  to  be 
mad  later,  when  they  have  perceived  behind  the  arras  the  King  and 
Polonius,  lawful  but  despicable  espials.  This  is  not  Irving's  idea.  It  is 
in  the  coolness  of  the  opening  conversation  that  he  affects  the  forgetful- 
ness,  the  eccentricity,  the  insensibilty  of  derangement.  His  love  peeps 
forth  sadly,  in  a  melancholy  line  or  accent,  here  and  there,  but  the  general 
tone  of  his  talk  to  the  poor  jilted  Ophelia  is  mere  baffling  unaccountable- 
ness.  The  excitement,  however,  as  rt  mounts,  is  evidently  too  much  for 
him.  The  two  strongest  feelings  he  has  ever  had  are  at  odds  which  shall  be 
master.  He  is  as  self- watching  by  habit  as  he  is  impulsive  in  the  passionate 
processess  of  his  affections.  He  is  accustomed,  and  knows  he  is  ac- 
customed, to  yield  himself  up  to  overwhelming  feelings.  He  now  finds 
himself  between  two.  He  remembers  well  the  irresistible  tumult  into 
which  the  sight  of  Ophelia  used  to  throw  him.  He  is  puzzled  by  a  sort  of 
paralysis  of  the  affection  which  he  well  knows  still  holds  lordship  in  his 
bosom.  He  loves  Ophelia ;  and  with  the  old  love ;  but  not  with  the  old 
tempestuousness.  A  stronger  power  has  curbed  and  bitted  his  hitherto 
untameable  passion.  A  vocation  has  been  thrust  upon  him,  which  fully 
tasks  his  powers,  and  will  probably  expel  for  ever  from  his  heart  the 
capacity  for  domestic  pleasure.  As  he  hastily  pierces  here  and  there,  with 
strong  yet  futile  glances,  the  thick-gathering  darkness  of  his  situation,  the 
time,  though  only  a  few  moments,  seems  to  those  who  watch  Irving  with 
understanding  eyes,  to  cover  an  indefinite  period  of  anxious  and  exciting 
thought.  What  can  young  Hamlet  do,  with  the  '  prettiness  '  of  his  life 
thus  turned  into  an  inferno,  and  with  neither  time  to  think,  nor  chance  of 
thinking  to  any  purpose  ?  There  is  nothing  for  it  but  wild  and  whirling 
words,  and  these  he  utters  amidst  many  strange,  fitful  glarings,  and  many 
a  suffering  pressure  of  the  hand  to  his  throbbing  head.  What  is  beauty  ? 
A  temptress.  What  is  Ophelia's  honesty?  A  mere  fleeting  virtue,  that 
can  neither  live  nor  inoculate  her  natural  depravity.  He  did  love  her 
once — this  in  a  momentary  interval  of  melancholy  sincerity — but  she 
should  not  have  believed  him.  Why  should  she  be  a  breeder  of  sinners? 
For  himself,  though  indifferent  honest,  he  could  accuse  himself  of  such 
things,  that  it  were  better  his  mother  had  not  borne  him.  What  should 
such  fellows  as  he — arrant  knaves  all — do  crawling  between  earth  and  heaven  ? 
Then  suddenly  he  sees  Polonius  and  the  King,  and  the  climax  comes. 
But  not  as  hitherto  usual,  in  the  shape  of  pretended  madness.  Rather 
does  his  lunacy  become  all  but  real  and  pronounced.  To  all  his  other 
griefs,  as  if  they  were  not  enough,  is  added  environment  by  spies.  Nothing 
could  so  agonisingly  cut  to  the  inmost  sense  of  one  already  almost  dis- 
tracted by  agony.  For  a  moment  he  is  stern  in  self-defence.  Her  father 


182       THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  XL 

is  at  home.  Let  the  doors  be  shut  upon  him  that  he  may  play  the  fool 
only  there.  But  these  are  the  last  words  he  can  say  with  any  degree  of 
sanity.  His  first  sudden  'farewell,'  is  a  frantic  ebullition  of  all-encom- 
passing, all-racking  pain.  What  was  till  now  histrionic,  passes,  as  the 
histrionic  phase  of  highly  strung  natures  easily  does,  into  real  frenzy.  His 
words  come  faster  and  wilder.  His  eyes  flash  with  a  more  sinister  lightning 
as  he  gives  Ophelia  the  plague  of  inevitable  calumny  for  her  dowry.  Again 
'  farewell ' ;  and  now  he  rushes  forth,  but  only  to  return  laden,  as  it  were, 
with  a  new  armful  of  .hastily  gathered  missiles  of  contumely.  He  is  getting 
now  to  the  very  leavings  of  his  mind.  He  has  nothing  to  hurl  at  his  love 
but  the  common-places  of  men  against  women.  They  paint,  they  jig,  they 
amble,  they  lisp,  and  make  their  wantonness  their  ignorance.  There  shall 
be  no  more  of  it — and  one  almost  feels  that  so  furious  and  fiery  a  re- 
former may  prevent  it  by  flinging  sheer  terror  about  him,  like  brands  from 
a  conflagration.  There  shall  be  no  more  marriages.  It  hath  made  him 
mad,  he  says ;  and  it  is  almost  true.  He  flies — as  if  his  head  and  feet  were 
winged  like  Mercury's — his  now  for  ever  discarded  love.  A  flash  of  frenzy, 
and  he  has  quitted  the  scene.  He  leaves  behind  him  the  fair  maiden  who 
has  ere  now  sucked  the  honey  of  his  music  vows,  bemoaning  her  destiny,  to 
have  seen  what  she  has  seen,  see  what  she  sees.  The  audience,  which  this 
episode  leaves  petrified  with  a  strange  and  seldom  experienced  feeling  of  ex- 
haustion from  pent  excitement,  may  well  show  after  a  moment's  pause,  by 
rare  demonstrations  of  enthusiasm,  its  vivid  comprehension  of  a  feat  of 
pyschological  acting  which  has  hardly  been  paralleled  in  living  memory. 
Forty  lines  or  so  of  print  contain  the  whole  of  the  text,  but  in  the  acting 
there  is  a  whole  volume  of  power.  .  .  .  Irving's  prince  is  young — es- 
sentially young — not  merely  in  the  matter  of  his  own  actual  years,  but  in 
spirit.  To  this  Hamlet  belongs  perpetual  youth.  He  is  of  the  tem- 
perament that  will  see  a  play  at  fifty  as  eagerly,  and  hear  a  speech  as 
readily,  as  at  twenty.  Above  all,  his  love  of  woman,  his  interest  in  her, 
his  chivalry  about  her,  his  knowledge  (like  Will  Honeycomb's)  that  we  can 
only  know  she  is  not  to  be  known,  is  of  the  kind  which  in  some  men  never 
burns  out,  nor  is  snuffed  out,  nor  flickers  into  noisome  knowingness.  It 
is  this  mood,  in  the  form  it  takes  on  the  threshold  of  manhood,  that  sup- 
plies Hamlet  with  the  slights  he  hurls  upon  Ophelia ;  and  this  mood — the 
mood  of  perennial  simplicity,  brightness,  excitableness,  and  juvenility— 
Irving's  genius  has  unerringly  singled  out  as  that  which  Shakespeare 
meant  to  exhibit,  acted  upon  by  the  exceptional  circumstances  of  the 
weird  tragedy  of  Elsinore.  ...  As  given  on  the  first  night  by  Irving,  these 
soliloquies  were  conceived  with  so  little  attention  to  their  essentially 
declamatory  traditions,  that  he  did  not  even  study  to  end  them  with  the 
usual  perorative  inflections,  which  give  a  distinct  and  satisfying  sense  of 
something  concluded  to  the  ear.  This  seems  to  be  carrying  purism  of 
reality  and  character  farther  than  is  warranted  by  the  structure  and  tone  of 
Shakespeare's  work  ;  and  with  an  actor  of  less  power  and  slower  instincts,  it 
might  have  injured  the  general  effect  of  the  performance.  .  .  . 

'  In  all  other  respects  than  that  of  declamatory  form,  Irving's  soliloquies 
are  full  of  beauties,  to  enumerate  which  would  be  a  very  tedious  form  of 
homage.  And,  indeed,  having  made  clear  our  idea  of  the  conception  upon 
which  he  has  worked,  it  will  now  be  easy  to  indicate  with  brevity  the  most 


1 874]  THE  PLAY-SCENE  183 

conspicuous  remaining  instances  in  which  in  detail  he  has  individualised  his 
performance. 

"  One  of  these  is  the  advice  to  the  players,  the  pleasantness,  grace,  and 
point  of  which  produce  a  thrill  of  satisfaction,  such  as  only  attends  the 
very  finest  high  comedy.  Most  Hamlets  in  this  speech  are  saved  by  the 
words ;  Irving  helps  the  words  ;  and  for  once  it  is  possible  to  say  that  there 
is  not  a  passage  in  the  play  in  which  Hamlet  runs  counter  to  his  own 
directions.  Similarly  graceful  is  Irving's  conduct  during  the  quiet  parts  of 
the  play-scene.  The  key  of  it  is  in  the  remark  made  to  Horatio  before  it 
begins — '  I  must  be  idle '.  Irving  is  idle.  Before  the  spectators  enter,  his 
demeanour  is  not  subtle  and  contriving,  but  anxious,  and  his  looks  are 
haggard.  He  has  set  more  than  his  life  upon  the  cast.  But  when  the  King 
and  Queen  and  courtiers  enter,  he  becomes  gay  and  insouciant.  Ophelia's 
fan,  with  which  he  plays,  is  of  peacocks'  feathers,  and  as  he  lies  at  her  feet 
patting  his  breast  with  it,  at  the  words,  '  Your  majesty,  and  we  that  have 
free  souls,'  the  feathers  themselves  are  not  lighter  than  his  spirits  seem. 
In  his  double-meaning  replies  to  the  King  there  is  none  of  that  malignant 
significance  with  which  it  is  the  custom  for  Hamlets  to  discount  the  coming 
victory.  His  '  no  offence  i'  the  world '  is  said  drily,  and  that  is  all.  His 
watching  of  the  King  is  not  conspicuous.  He  does  not  crawl  prematurely 
towards  him,  or  seize  his  robe.  Even  up  to  the  crisis,  though  his  excite- 
ment rises,  his  spirits  bear  him  almost  sportively  through.  But  when  once 
the  King  and  Queen  start  from  their  chairs,  Hamlet  springs  from  the 
ground,  darts  with  a  shrill  scream  to  the  seats  from  which  they  vanished  like 
ghosts,  flings  himself — a  happy  thought — into  the  chair  which  the  King 
has  vacated,  his  body  swaying  the  while  from  side  to  side  in  irrepressible 
excitement,  and  recites  there — though  the  roar  of  applause  into  which  the 
audience  is  surprised  renders  it  barely  audible — the  well-known  stanza, 
1  Why,  let  the  stricken  deer  go  weep '.  A  still  greater,  because  wild  and 
bizarre,  effect  follows  as  Hamlet  leaves  the  chair,  and  in  a  sort  of  jaunty 
nonsense  rhythm  chants  the  seldom-used  lines, 

For  thou  dost  know,  O  Damon  dear, 

This  realm  dismantled  was 
Of  Jove  himself;  and  now  reigns  here 

A  very,  very — peacock. 

At  the  last  word,  said  suddenly  after  a  pause,  he  looks  at  Ophelia's  fan, 
which  he  has  kept  till  now,  and  throws  it  away,  as  if  it  had  suggested  a 
word  and  was  done  with.  There  is  infinite  significance  in  the  apparent  in- 
consequence of  this  last  boyish  burst,  and  it  is  very  suggestive  of  the  force 
and  truth  of  Irving's  conception,  that  the  audience  receive  it  with  as  much 
enthusiasm  as  if  it  were  a  perfectly  logical  and  intelligible  climax.  The 
doggerel  has  only  the  faintest  if  any  connection  with  the  event,  but  it  is 
evidently  introduced  by  Shakespeare,  as  another  example  of  Hamlet's  con- 
stitutional exuberance,  and  upon  this  Irving  has  worked.  So  vivid  a 
rendering  of  the  play-scene  lives  not  in  our  recollection.  .  .  . 

"  We  pass  to  the  scene  between  Hamlet  and  his  mother.  The  celebrated 
opening  of  this — the  murder  of  Polonius — is  not  amongst  Irving's  strongest 
episodes.  For  some  reason  not  easy  to  assign,  he  does  not  give  the  usual 
force  to  the  question,  'Is  it  the  King?'  in  which  Charles  Kean  was,  and 


1 84       THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  XL 

Sullivan  is,  great.  The  idea  that  Hamlet  is  startled  into  the  most  vehement 
excitement  by  the  thought  that  he  has  done  upon  hazard  the  deed  for  which 
he  has  been  trying  to  nerve  and  prepare  himself,  does  not  appear  to  have 
been  so  overpoweringly  present  to  the  new  Hamlet  as  to  his  predecessors. 
All  the  rest  of  the  scene  is  very  fine,  Hamlet's  beseeching  of  his  mother — 
to  whom,  be  it  remembered,  he  has  come  in  mercy,  not  in  judgment — is 
affecting  beyond  measure.  His  dispensing  with  the  miniatures,  in  con- 
trasting the  two  brothers,  raises  to  a  greater  height  of  poetry  language  which 
has  hitherto  been  lowered  by  these  said  pictures  towards  prose.  And,  above 
everything  else,  poignant  and  impressive  is  the  earnestness  with  which 
Hamlet  kneels  and  casts  his  head  upon  his  mother's  lap,  at  the  adjuration 
to  her  not  to  escape  the  reproaches  of  her  conscience  by  attributing  to  him 
madness.  Here,  with  a  mother  to  save  from  sin  and  destruction,  there  is 
nothing  left  of  the  son's  antic  disposition ;  but  the  deep,  the  tearful,  sus- 
ceptibility, which  lies  so  near  the  base  of  his  character,  remains.  Under- 
stood in  the  full  significance  of  the  relations  between  Hamlet  and  Gertrude, 
which  Irving  helps  us  to  perceive  by  throwing  aside  all  the  accustomed 
stilted  magnificence  of  the  '  leading  tragedian,'  the  spectacle  is  most  memor- 
able. A  son  kneeling  where  he  said  his  first  prayers,  to  implore  the  mother 
who  taught  him  to  lisp  them  to  forsake  her  sin,  is  an  incident  worthy  of  the 
greatest  poet,  and  only  to  be  fitly  enacted  by  the  greatest  of  tragic  actors.  .  .  . 
Irving's  performance  of  the  churchyard  scene  has  fitness,  vigour,  and  genuine 
poetry,  but  no  novelty — nothing  noticeable,  indeed,  except  subtle  indications 
of  the  restraint  which  is  placed  on  Hamlet  when  he  is  not  alone  by  a  quick 
sense  of  the  ridiculous.  But  when  we  pass  from  this  to  the  last  scene,  the 
whole  spirit  of  the  play  is  made  new  by  his  originality.  Instead  of  producing 
the  impression  of  a  duly  arranged  shambles,  usually  conveyed  by  the  moodi- 
ness  and  solemnity  of  all  concerned  in  the  fencing  bout  except  Osric,  the 
scene,  as  here  played,  gives  one  the  feeling  of  a  real  trial  of  skill.  For  a 
wager  Hamlet  has  for  the  nonce  cast  his  nighted  colour  off,  and  is  ready 
for  sport.  It  is  breathing- time  of  day  with  him,  and  he  has  no  arriere 
penste.  He  is  sorry,  heartily,  for  having  injured  Laertes,  and  makes  amends 
like  a  true  gentleman.  He  fences  like  one  also,  with  delightful  ease  and 
brilliancy.  Between  the  hits  he  talks  merrily  and  self-complacently  with 
his  backers.  All  his  troubles  have  not  extinguished  in  him  his  liking  for 
ribands  in  the  cap  of  his  youth.  Probably  he  has  begun  to  see  that  in  great 
undertakings  chance  or  Providence  has  more  to  say  than  we  have.  At  any 
rate  he  is  free  for  the  time.  Trouble  will  come  soon  enough.  He  is 
happier  than  he  has  seemed  since  he  threw  away  Ophelia's  fan.  He  means 
the  King  to  win  his  wager,  and  will  not  heed  the  odd  hits. 

In  fact,  for  anything  that  appears  in  this  portion  of  the  scene,  the 
fencing  match  might  be  a  mere  lightsome  parenthesis  in  the  tragedy,  not 
tending  in  any  way  to  its  catastrophe.  But  the  mountebank's  unction  is 
to  change  all  this.  '  No  cataplasm  so  rare,  collected  from  all  simples  that 
have  virtue  under  the  moon/  can  save  an  hour  longer  the  long-forfeited 
life  of  Claudius.  On  a  sudden,  the  fencers  are  incensed.  They  change 
foils  in  a  brilliantly  contrived  pass.  They  mutually  inflict  fatal  wounds. 
Then  the  truth  gushes  forth  from  the  lips  as  the  life-blood  from  the  side  of 
Laertes.  Hamlet's  misgiving,  '  such  as  might  trouble  a  woman,'  has  come 
true.  There  is  a  providence  in  the  bating  of  a  foil  as  in  the  fall  of  a 


1874]    "IMMORTALITY"  OF  HIS  HAMLET     185 

sparrow.  In  Hamlet  there  is  not  half  an  hour's  life.  But  a  moment  will 
suffice.  The  envenomed  point  might  be  dispensed  with,  so  savage  is  the 
prince's  onslaught  on  his  adulterous  uncle.  Hamlet  seizes  the  King  by 
the  collar  of  his  royal  robe  as  he  might  an  intrusive  scullion — runs  him 
through  as  he  holds  him — flings  him  down  backwards  to  the  earth  like 
carrion.  The  vengeance  has  come  at  last,  from  his  hands  and  by  his  will, 
but  not  by  his  contrivance.  There  is  no  triumph  in  his  victory.  He  has 
to  die,  and  he  yearns  but  to  clear  himself  to  those  who  look  pale  and 
trembling  at  this  chance.  He  compels  Horatio  to  live  and  do  him  justice. 
Then  peacefully  he  expires,  reaching  his  right  hand  upward  to  the  heaven 
he  hopes  for,  and  then  falling  back  in  silence  upon  the  earth — that  '  sterile 
promontory '  where  the  best  year  of  his  life  has  been  made  unutterably 
unhappy. 

"  So  dies  Hamlet — but  lives  immortal ;  henceforth  more  than  ever  a 
pathetic  ideal  of  refined  humanity,  torn  and  wrecked  upon  cruel  and  coarse 
troubles ;  of  young  philosophy ;  of  peering  irresolution ;  of  awed  yet 
venturesome  imagination  ;  of  wayward  tricksiness  ;  of  religion  faintly  clouded 
with  doubt,  yet  clear  in  tenderness  of  conscience  and  purity  of  sweet 
counsel ;  of  love,  domestic  and  sexual,  embittered  and  shattered ;  of  a 
heart  riven  by  the  sorrow  most  trying  to  it ;  of  powers  coping  with  problems 
horrible  either  to  be  mastered  by,  or  to  master ;  of  thoughts  teeming  with 
imagery  and  conjecture,  on  which  the  world  never  tires  of  meditating ;  of 
a  fate  fitfully  shunned,  recklessly  challenged,  and  at  last  encountered  by 
mere  chance  medley ;  of  many  other  things,  also,  which  even  Shakespeare 
can  barely  express,  and  about  which  lesser  men  can  only  wrangle. 

"  To  present  this  matchless  figure  worthily  and  vividly  to  the  men  of 
his  time  has  been  the  highest  ambition  of  every  great  actor,  and  that 
ambition  Henry  Irving  has  abundantly  attained.  To  prove  it,  we  have 
dwelt  not  on  his  general  philosophical  sublimity  or  tragic  grandeur  in 
which  he  could  but  rank  with  noble  predecessors,  but  on  the  features  of 
Hamlet's  being  he  has  especially  revealed  and  illuminated.  In  this 
character  a  thousand  undying  beauties  and  significances  of  art  have  been 
piously  cherished  from  age  to  -age.  To  Irving  belongs  the  merit  of  snatch- 
ing— with  a  hand  feverish,  perhaps,  but  sure — graces  which  were  not,  and 
can  hardly  become,  in  a  stage  sense,  traditional.  He  has  made  Hamlet 
much  more,  and  something  more  ethereal,  than  a  type  of  feeble  doubt,  of 
tragic  struggle,  or  even  of  fine  philosophy.  The  immortality  of  his  Hamlet 
is  immortal  youth,  immortal  enthusiasm,  immortal  tenderness,  immortal 
nature." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

1875-1876. 

"  Macbeth  "  revived — It  brings  in  its  train  a  series  of  severe  criticisms 
— Castigation  by  the  Figaro — Irving's  conception  of  the  part — His  imper- 
sonation endorsed  by  the  Times— Praise  from  other  quarters — A  "scur- 
rilous libel" — Letter  to  "A  Fashionable  Tragedian" — The  defendants 
summoned — They  apologise  in  open  court — Irving  accepts  their  apology — 
At  his  request,  the  case  is  not  sent  for  trial — "  Macbeth  "  played  for  eighty 
nights — Literary  effect  of  the  revival. 

THE  popularity  of  "  Hamlet "  led  to  the  decline  of  burlesque  and 
the  revival,  as  already  noted  in  reference  to  the  hundredth 
night  of  Shakespeare's  tragedy,  of  the  poetic  drama.  It  also 
encouraged  Irving  to  make  his  second  venture  in  the  Shake- 
spearean field.  This  was  a  great  opportunity  for  the  carping 
critics  and  detractors  in  general.  For  was  not  Macbeth  a 
bold  and  brawny  warrior  sent  to  his  doom  by  the  infernal 
promptings  of  the  witches  and  the  incessant  urging  of  his 
terrible  wife?  Here  was  a  straightforward  character  indeed, 
and  one  which  could  only  be  played  by  a  man  of  muscle. 
Brains  were  not  wanted  here,  but  the  physique  of  a  bull  and 
the  roaring  of  a  lion.  So  that  the  production  of  "  Macbeth  "  on 
1 8th  September,  1875,  was  an  opportunity  not  to  be  neglected. 
This  was  the  beginning  of  some  so-called  " criticism"  which 
was  a  disgrace  to  English  newspapers  and  to  the  writers  of 
the  abuse.  Irving  had  to  endure,  for  some  years,  volleys  of 
scandalous  slanders  which,  if  attempted  nowadays,  would  be 
silenced  in  a  month.  If  any  actor  of  to-day  were  written 
about  in  the  scurrilous  tone  which  was  thought  fit  to  be  ap- 
plied to  Henry  Irving  in  1875,  J^76,  and  1877 — indeed 
until  he  became  his  own  manager  and  was  able  to  fight  his 
own  battles  vigorously — the  authors  of  the  libels  would  have 
time  to  repent  of  their  iniquities  while  languishing  in  gaol.  In 

186 


A  "MEDIAEVAL  MATHIAS 


187 


the  eyes  of  some  people,  success  is  a  crime,  and,  in  Irving's 
case,  the  climax  came  when,  having  played  Hamlet  for 
two  hundred  nights,  he  ventured  to  give  his  own  view  of  the 
character  of  Macbeth.  Some  critics  condemned  his  perform- 
ance as  effeminate — which  Irving  never  was,  at  any  time, 


MACBETH. 
Revived  at  the  Lyceum,  i8th  September,  1875. 

DUNCAN     -        ...        Mr.  HUNTLET. 

MALCOLM  -  Mr.  BROOKE. 

DONALBAIN  -  -  -  Miss  CLAIR. 

MACBETH  ...        -  Mr.  HENRY  IRVING. 

BANQUO     -  Mr.  FORRESTER. 

MACDUFF  -  Mr.  SWINBOURNE. 

LENNOX     ....  Mr.  STUART. 

Ross  -         -  Mr.  G.  NEVILLE. 

MENTEITH         -        -        -  Mr.  MORDAUNT. 

CAITHNESS        -        -        -  Mr.  SEYMOUR. 

FLEANCE   -        ...  Miss  W.  BROWN. 

SIWARD     -         ...  Mr.  HENRY. 

YOUNG  SIWARD  -  -  Mr.  SARGENT. 

SEYTON     -  Mr.  NORMAN. 

DOCTOR     -        ...  Mr.  BEAUMONT. 

PORTER     ....  Mr.  COLLETT. 

AN  ATTENDANT  -  -  -  Mr.  BRANSCOMBE. 

MURDERERS       ...         Messrs.  BUTLER  and  TAPPING. 

C  Miss  BROWN. 
APPARITIONS      -  -     \   Mr.  HARWOOD. 

I  Miss  K.  BROWN. 

LADY  MACBETH          -         -         Miss  BATEMAN  (Mrs.  CROWE). 
GENTLEWOMAN  -        -        -         Miss  MARLBOROUGH. 
HECATE     -        -        -        -        Miss  PAUNCEFORT. 

f  Mr.  MEAD. 
WITCHES  -     4   Mr.  ARCHER. 

I  Mrs.  HUNTLEY. 

ACT  I.,  SCENE  i.  A  Desert  Place;  SCENE  2.  A  Heath; 
SCENES.  Palace  at  Forres;  SCENE  4.  Macbeth's  Castle  ;  SCENE 
5.  Exterior  of  Macbeth's  Castle;  SCENE  6.  Macbeth's  Castle. 
ACT  II.,  SCENE.  Court  of  Macbeth's  Castle.  ACT  ILL,  SCENE 
i.  Palace  at  Forres ;  SCENE  2.  Park  near  the  Palace ;  SCENES. 
Palace  at  Forres.  ACT  IV.,  SCENE  i.  The  Pit  of  Acheron  ; 
SCENE  2.  England ;  A  Lane ;  SCENE  3.  Dunsinane  :  Ante-room 
in  the  Castle.  ACT  V.,  SCENE  i.  Country  near  Dunsinane ; 
SCENE  2.  Dunsinane:  Room  in  the  Castle ;  SCENES.  Birnam 
Wood;  SCENE  4.  Dunsinane  Castle;  SCENE  5.  Dunsinane  Hill ; 
SCENE  6.  Outer  Court  of  the  Castle. 


or  in  any  part — while  his  terror  was  entirely  opposed  to  Mac- 
beth's reputation  for  courage.  This  was  not  Macbeth  at  all, 
but  a  sort  of  mediaeval  Mathias.  "  In  Mr.  Irving's  conception 
there  is  intention,  but  it  is  wrong,  and  there  are  individual 
merits  which  will  not  compound  for  systematic  error."  This 


1 88      THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xn. 

was  milk  and  honey  compared  to  some  of  the  references  to 
Irving's  Macbeth.  The  bare  fact  that  he  dared  to  be  original 
acted  like  a  match  to  the  train  of  explosive  wrath.  The 
Figaro,  which  was  noted  for  its  trenchant  criticisms,  would 
not  tolerate  the  Lyceum  Macbeth  in  any  degree.  To  do  it 
justice,  it  expressed  itself  in  decent  language,  although  a  trifle 
vehemently.  "The  latest  representation  of  Macbeth  which 
has,  in  many  circles,  been  looked  forward  to  with  a  hopefulness 
somewhat  tempered  by  anxiety,  must,  in  its  leading  features, 
be  pronounced  a  disappointment ;  and  a  disappointment  not 
only  to  those  who  believed  that  in  the  Lyceum  management 
was  to  be  found  the  chief  promise  of  the  long-delayed  re- 
generation of  the  poetic  drama.  That  the  upward  career  of 
an  intelligent  and  hardworking  young  actor  should  receive  its 
first  distinct  check  is  no  doubt  unfortunate :  for  we  have  too 
many  actors  whose  ambition  is  sufficient  to  lead  them  into  any 
danger  such  as  has  proved  fatal  to  Mr.  Irving.  But  that  a 
sincere  and  genuine  effort,  no  matter  what  its  motives,  to  sus- 
tain popular  interest  in  the  worldly  representation  of  classic 
tragedy  should,  through  the  incompetence  of  its  leading  sup- 
porters, be  covered  with  something  very  like  ridicule,  is  little 
less  than  a  calamity.  The  good  which  has  been  accomplished 
is  undone,  and  the  capacities  of  the  theatre  for  future  useful- 
ness are  seriously,  though  let  us  trust  not  irretrievably,  injured  ; 
and  those  who  had  just  begun  to  regard  the  temporary  stage 
as  a  valuable  agent  for  the  illustration  of  our  nobler  national 
drama  may  be  expected  to  look  with  sorrow  and  surprise  upon 
a  performance  which,  save  in  one  particular,  never  helps  its 
spectators  to  a  better  appreciation  of  the  work  illustrated. 
With  a  Lady  Macbeth  who  is  weak,  and  a  Macbeth  who  to 
his  weakness  adds  the  mgst  painful  defects  of  style,  how  can 
we  console  ourselves  with  the  excellence  of  the  scenery  and 
the  appropriate  acting  of  the  witches?  How  can  we  avoid 
thinking  that  the  picture  is  unworthy  of  the  frame,  and  that 
any  popularity  which  the  melodramatic  vulgarisation  of  the 
play  in  its  principal  character  may  have  attained  is  to  be  re- 
garded as  an  injury  rather  than  as  a  boon?  The  Hamlet  of 


i87S]  "A  SELFISH  ASSASSIN"  189 

Mr.  Irving  was  so  thoroughly  a  student's  Hamlet,  and  evinced 
so  earnest  a  study  of  the  part  and  its  meaning,  that  the  dis- 
cussion provoked  by  his  reading  of  the  character  of  Macbeth 
was  inevitable.  Into  this,  however,  we  need  not  here  enter 
at  length,  although  it  is  sufficiently  obvious  that,  if  the  actor's 
conception  be,  as  we  believe  it,  radically  wrong,  no  amount  of 
excellence  in  the  execution  could  make  his  performance  an 
artistic  success." 

Irving's  conception  of  the  character,  be  it  said,  was  that 
Macbeth,  though  brave  in  the  field,  was  the  trembling  prey 
of  his  imagination  from  the  moment  that  he  entered  upon  his 
terrible  course  of  murder,  and  the  collapse  of  his  courage  was 
completed  when,  with  words  of  withering  scorn,  his  wife 
snatched  the  dagger  from  his  palsied  hands.  Irving  repre- 
sented Macbeth  as  a  selfish  assassin  tinged  by  a  touch  of 
poetry.  He  imagined — and  his  views  were  based  on  careful 
study — that  the  idea  of  murder  was  not  new  to  Macbeth,  for 
it  had  been  in  his  mind  long  before  the  opening  of  the  play. 
The  meeting-  with  the  weird  sisters  was  due  to  the  sympathy 
of  evil  with  evil,  and  in  order  to  urge  him  along  the  fatal  path 
upon  which,  as  they  well  know,  he  has  already  entered.  He 
is  unable  to  resist  their  temptation,  but  his  cowardice  and  the 
remnants  of  his  better  self  make  him  shrink  from  the  actual 
perpetration  of  the  crime  until  his  wife  screws  his  courage  to 
the  sticking  point.  His  distress  after  the  murder  arises  from 
abject  terror,  not  remorse.  There  is  no  need  to  dwell  further, 
at  this  point,  on  Irving's  conception  of  the  character,  which 
never  changed,  since  it  enters  into  the  history  of  the  play 
when  he  subsequently  revived  it  under  his  own  management. 
Let  us  rather  look  at  the  reception  of  it  in  1875.  The  Fig- 
aro, having  concluded  that  Irving's  view  of  Macbeth  was 
not  its  own,  castigated  the  player  somewhat  soundly  :  "  Let 
it,  however,  be  granted  that  the  actor  has,  if  not  sufficient, 
at  any  rate  plausible,  grounds  for  the  view  which  he  has 
taken  of  the  motive  of  the  part :  let  it  be  admitted  that  great 
interest  might  attach  to  this  possible  phase  of  Macbeth's 
character :  let  it  be  recollected,  too,  that  for  the  illustration 


i9o      THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xn. 

of  this  unmanly  Macbeth,  Mr  Irving's  powers,  as  hitherto 
indicated,  are  far  better  suited  than  for  the  representation  of 
a  more  robust  hero.  Let  us  grant  all  this,  and  then  ask  how 
far  the  artist  has  done  justice  to  his  own  conception  ? — thus 
trying  his  performance  by  a  test  lower  than  that  which  might 
legitimately  be  applied.  On  doing  so,  we  are  compelled  to 
pronounce  the  manner  even  less  satisfactory  than  the  sub- 
stance. 

"  The  mouthing  mannerism,  which  was  happily  suppressed 
in  all  the  important  points  of  the  actor's  Hamlet,  proves 
itself  as  inappropriate  to  dignified  poetic  tragedy  as  it  was 
effective  in  morbid  melodrama.  It  is  as  though  an  attempt 
were  made  to  indicate  the  deepest  feelings  of  the  human 
heart  by  spasmodic  hysteria — hysteria,  moreover,  sustained 
far  beyond  the  powers  of  its  subject.  In  the  famous  speech, 
'  If  it  were  done,'  etc.,  the  actor,  leaning  meditatively  against 
a  pillar  in  the  room,  and  showing  his  special  power  of  natural 
soliloquy,  as  well  by  his  attitude  as  by  his  tones,  gives  a 
pleasant  touch  of  pathos  to  the  lines  expressive  of  his  com- 
punction : — 

He's  here  in  double  trust ; 
First  as  I  am  his  kinsman  and  his  subject, 
Strong  both  against  the  deed ;  then  as  his  host, 
Who  should  against  his  murderer  shut  the  door, 
Not  bear  the  knife  myself. 

But  the  kindly  feeling  is  utterly  out  of  keeping  with  the  mean- 
spirited  hound  to  whom,  in  the  other  scenes,  we  are  introduced. 
In  the  dagger  speech,  however,  there  is  not  a  good  point, 
unless  it  be  in  the  averted  posture  of  the  hands  which  dread 
to  clutch  the  handle  hovering  before  them.  By  repeating  the 
needless  whisper,  adopted  by  Miss  Bateman  in  the  preceding 
scene,  Mr.  Irving  produces  a  most  irritating  effect  upon  the 
ear,  which  is  no  by  means  lessened  when  the  whispers  are  regu- 
larly alternated,  line  by  line,  with  the  ordinary  pitch  of  voice. 
The  beauty  of  the  blank  verse  dialogue  is  of  course  utterly 
destroyed  when  it  is  jerked  about  as  though  for  a  feat  of 
ventriloquy ;  and  a  valuable  occasional  aid  to  impressiveness 


1875]       ENCOURAGED  BY  THE   TIMES  191 

of  elocution  is  frittered  away.  Worse,  however,  remains 
behind :  if  the  soliloquy  in  its  struggle  after  unworthy  effect 
is  poor,  what  shall  be  said  of  the  ranting,  screaming  exit,  after 
the  murder?  That  Mr.  Irving's  vocal  power  would  fail  him 
was,  no  doubt,  to  be  expected ;  as  his  voice  invariably  plays 
him  false  when  it  is  raised  in  passion.  But  why  the  screeching 
and  staggering  at  all?  Could  not  a  great  tragedian  indicate 
to  us  any  horror  other  than  that  of  the  nervous  school-girl  ? 
Is  it  necessary,  according  to  the  text,  that  Macbeth  should 
at  this  juncture  never  speak  without  gasping,  and  never  gasp 
without  almost  falling  to  pieces  ? 

"  So  again  in  the  banquet  scene,  Macbeth's  terror,  whilst 
exaggerated,  gains  nothing  by  its  exaggeration,  and  is  utterly 
lacking  in  the  element  of  solemnity,  which  so  well-contrived 
a  ghost  should  impart.  Not  until  the  last  act,  when,  in  spite 
of  his  previous  efforts,  the  actor  makes  Macbeth  a  fine  bold 
soldier,  do  we  find  anything  in  Mr.  Irving's  performance  to 
really  carry  us  out  of  ourselves  into  the  poet's  creation,  and 
to  realise  for  us  a  hero  worthy  of  a  tragedy  higher  in  type 
than  '  The  Bells '.  So  good,  indeed,  is  the  combat  with 
Macduff,  that  we  may  say  of  this  Macbeth  as  Malcolm  says 
of  Cawdor  :— 

Nothing  in  his  life 
Became  him  like  the  leaving  it." 

Poor  Miss  Bateman  came  in  for  an  equal,  though  not  so 
lengthy,  a  censure,  and  the  lesser  members  of  the  company 
fell  under  the  same  ban.  "And  without  any  flippant  ex- 
aggeration," concluded  the  diatribe,  "it  may  be  said  that  the 
witches,  and  especially  that  of  Mr.  Mead,  form  the  only 
really  satisfactory  representations  of  the  evening."  The  young 
critics  of  1875  were  certainly  outspoken. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  were  critics — and  experienced 
ones,  too — who  thoroughly  endorsed  Irving's  reading  of  the 
part.  "The  popular  Macbeth,"  wrote  John  Oxenford  in  the 
Times,  "was  not  only  a  brave  soldier,  with  all  the  physical 
qualities  proper  to  his  vocation,  but  likewise  an  apparently 
well-disposed  man,  who  could  have  gone  on  safely  to  the  end 


i92       THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xii. 

of  his  days  if  he  had  not  unluckily  met  three  evil  old  women 
on  a  heath,  who  put  wicked  thoughts  into  his  head,  and  had 
he  not,  moreover,  been  cursed  with  an  unscrupulous  wife,  who 
did  her  best,  or  rather  her  worst,  to  mature  those  thoughts 
into  action.  The  evil  agencies  by  which  Macbeth  is  influenced 
are  universally  recognised ;  not  so  the  extreme  facility  with 
which  he  yields  to  them.  In  the  very  first  scene,  when  he 
has  not  been  on  the  stage  two  minutes,  no  sooner  has  he  been 
greeted  by  the  witches  as  Glamis,  Cawdor,  and  '  King  here- 
after/ than  his  manner  suggests  to  Banquo,  in  whom  the 
witches  cause  no  terror  whatever,  the  question  :— 

Good  sir,  why  do  you  start  and  seem  to  fear 
Things  that  do  sound  so  fair  ? 

The  information  a  few  minutes  afterwards  that  the  first 
prediction  has  been  fulfilled  leads  immediately  to  a  self-con- 
fession of  murderous  devices,  conveyed  in  a  speech  too  familiar 
to  need  citation.  There  is  no  nobility  of  nature  about  Mac- 
beth ;  he  is  totally  impotent  to  resist  the  very  earliest  allure- 
ments to  crime,  and  is  utterly  without  the  fortitude  to  endure 
the  consequences.  After  she  has  read  his  letter,  and  before 
she  has  seen  him,  his  lady  speaks  of  him  as  one  who  would 
not  play  false  and  yet  would  wrongly  win."  This,  by  the  way, 
was  the  last  criticism  which  Mr.  Oxenford  was  destined  to 
write. 

As  to  the  Macbeth  of  the  hour,  it  was  generally  ad- 
mitted by  critics  who  objected  to  his  conception  of  the  part, 
that  its  interpretation  was  carried  out  consistently,  and  with 
great  power.  The  murder  scene  was  terrifically  impressive ; 
and  Irving's  acting  at  the  close — his  desperate  resolution,  his 
consciousness  of  more  than  human  destiny,  and  his  defiance 
of  that  destiny  when  it  is  turned  against  him,  formed,  said 
the  Pall  Mall  Gazette,  "  a  picture  such  as  is  not  imagined 
without  genius  nor  made  visible  without  art ".  ^^Illustrated 
London  News  treated  the  subject  with  conspicuous  fairness 
and  dignity.  It  published  a  thoughtful  essay  on  the  subject 
in  its  Christmas  number.  "  It  was  to  be  expected,"  it  began, 


1875]  MORE  ENCOURAGEMENT  193 

"that  on  Mr.  Irving  assuming  the  character  of  Macbeth  he 
would  be  liable  to  more  severe  criticism  than  he  had  sustained 
on  the  performance  of  Hamlet.     It  is  harder  to  secure  the 
second  step  in  progress  than  the  first.     Indulgence  is  granted 
to  the  first,  mainly  because  it  is  the  first,  and  if,  in  despite  of 
some  shortcomings,  a  certain  degree  of  merit  is  recognisable, 
it   is  probable  that,   in  general  esteem,    a   success    will   be 
registered.     In  making  the  second  attempt  the  first  will  have 
an  antagonistic  operation.     The  actor  may  have  been  equal 
to   Hamlet;  but  is  he  therefore  equal  to    Macbeth?     The 
intellectual  elements  so  cunningly  mixed  up  in  him  may  have 
exactly  fitted  him  for  the  Prince  of  Denmark,  but  may  be 
exactly  the  reverse  in  regard  to  the  Thane  of  Cawdor.      In 
fact,  the  contrast  of  the  two  characters  is  greater  than  their 
comparison.     On  the   Continental  stage,   indeed,   the  same 
actor  who  had  identified  himself  with   Hamlet  or   Romeo, 
would  scarcely  be  regarded  as  suited  to  Macbeth,  Lear,  or 
Othello.     These  parts  represent  different  lines  of  art,   and 
presuppose  different  powers  to  the  artist.     They  stand  in  the 
relation,   to  begin  with,   of  young  and  old ;  and  the  same 
person  runs  a  risk  of  looking  too  young  for  the  old  part,  or  too 
old  for  the  young  one,  too  heavy  for  the  one  and  too  light  for 
the  other.     The  audience,  on  the  first  night,  compared  Mr. 
Irving's  Macbeth  with  Mr.  Irving's  Hamlet ;  and  it  naturally 
happened  that  there  were  several  who  preferred  the  latter. 
Those  who  were  willing  to  grant  a  fair  trial  to  the  former 
were  at  the  same  time  cautious  in  pronouncing  on  the  new 
attempt.     They  reserved  their  opinion  until  they  had  witnessed 
the  performance  a  second  time."     The  article  then  entered 
into  a  minute  study  of  the  character  and  it  was  in  absolute 
agreement  with  Irving's  conception,  namely,  that  Macbeth's 
crime  was  contemplated  long  before  he  had  met  the  witches- 
Shakespeare   treats   them    as    the   exponents   of   Macbeth's 
state  of  mind,    not  as    the   prompters    of  his   guilt.      "  Mr. 
Irving,"  the  article  continued,  "is  perfectly  right  in  taking  a 
philosophical  view  of  the  witch  element  in  the  drama,  and 

portraying  Macbeth,  in  the  latter  phases  of  the  action,   as 
VOL.  i.  13 


194      THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xn. 

completely  independent  of  it,  and  resuming  that  comparative 
nobility  and  valour  with  which  he  is  accredited  in  the  earlier 
scenes.  Upon  the  whole,  therefore,  we  conclude  that  Mr. 
Irving,  in  his  Macbeth  delineation,  has  shown  considerable 
genius  and  great  judgment." 

Allusion  has  been  made  to  the  scurrilous  attacks  upon 
Henry  Irving  which  were  prevalent  at  this  time.  As  a  rule, 
they  were  beneath  the  notice  of  the  actor.  Irving's  staunch 
friend  and  manager,  Bateman,  was  no  longer  in  the  land  of 
the  living,  and  Mrs.  Bateman  could  not  enter  into  the  field  of 
controversy.  But  one  article  was  so  bad  that  Irving  was 
advised  that  he  was  bound,  in  self-defence,  to  take  action  in 
the  matter.  Had  it  stood  alone  it  might  have  been  passed 
over,  but  it  was  a  continuation — although  not  written  by  the 
same  pen — of  a  series  of  attacks  in  the  same  journal.  On 
Christmas  Eve,  1875,  Mr.  George  Lewis,  jr. — now  Sir 
George  Lewis — appeared  at  the  Guildhall  Police  Court  and 
handed  to  the  magistrate,  Sir  Robert  Garden,  a  copy  of  the 
paper  containing  the  alleged  libel.  Mr.  Lewis  said  that  Mr. 
Irving  had  played  parts  in  "  The  Bells,"  "Charles  the  First," 
"  Eugene  Aram,"  "  Richelieu,"  "  Philip,"  "  Hamlet,"  and 
"  Macbeth,"  and  it  had  been  announced  that  he  was  to  play 
Othello,  so  that  there  could  be  no  doubt  as  to  whom  the 
article  was  intended  for.  There  was  no  question,  he  said, 
that  it  was  a  deliberate  attempt  to  injure  Mr.  Irving ;  and,  if 
the  expressed  intention  of  the  writer  was  carried  out,  there  was 
no  doubt  that  it  would  do  Mr.  Irving  a  great  injury.  He 
(Mr.  Lewis)  therefore  asked  for  a  summons  against  the  printer 
and  publisher  of  Fun  for  libel,  and  that  it  should  be  made 
returnable  immediately,  so  that  the  attacks  might  be  put  a 
stop  to.  Sir  Robert  Garden  said  that,  having  read  the  article, 
he  could  not  imagine  any  other  than  a  malicious  motive  in 
it,  and  he  had  no  hesitation  in  granting  the  summons,  as  it 
was  a  " scurrilous  libel".  The  summons  was  then  issued, 
and,  on  the  following  Tuesday,  the  printer  of  the  paper 
appeared  in  answer  to  it.  The  article  in  question  was  ad- 
dressed 


i8;s]  A  "SCURRILOUS  LIBEL"  195 

TO  A  FASHIONABLE  TRAGEDIAN 

and  was  as  follows  : — 

"  SIR, — I  read  with  regret  that  it  is  your  intention — as  soon  as  the 
present  failure  at  your  house  can  be  with  dignity  withdrawn — to  startle 
Shakespearean  scholars  and  the  public  with  your  conception  of  the  character 
of  Othello.  In  the  name  of  that  humanity  to  which,  in  spite  of  your 
transcendent  abilities,  you  cannot  avoid  belonging,  I  beseech  you,  for  the 
sake  of  order  and  morality,  to  abandon  the  idea.  For  some  years  past  you 
have  been  the  prime  mover  in  a  series  of  dramas  which,  carried  by  you  to 
the  utmost  point  of  realistic  ghastliness,  have  undermined  the  constitution 
of  society,  and  familiarised  the  masses  with  the  most  loathsome  details  of 
crime  and  bloodshed.  With  the  hireling  portion  of  the  Press  at  your 
command,  you  have  induced  the  vulgar  and  unthinking  to  consider  you  a 
model  of  histrionic  ability  and  the  pioneer  of  an  intellectual  and  cultured 
school  of  dramatic  art.  Having  thus  focussed  the  attention  of  the  mob, 
you  have  not  hesitated  nightly  to  debauch  its  intelligence,  to  steep  it  in  an 
atmosphere  of  diabolical  lust  and  crude  carnage,  to  cast  around  the  foulest 
outrages  the  glamour  of  a  false  sentimentality.  You  have  idealised  blank- 
verse  butchery  until  murder  and  assassination  have  come  to  be  considered 
the  natural  environments  of  the  noble  and  the  heroic.  Already  the  deadly 
weeds  whose  seeds  you  have  so  persistently  scattered  are  spreading  in  rank 
luxuriance  over  the  whole  surface  of  society.  Men  revel  in  the  details  of 
the  lowest  forms  of  human  violence;  women  crowd  the  public  courts  to 
gloat  over  the  filthy  details  of  murder  and  license ;  children  in  their  nurses' 
arms  babble  the  names  of  miscreants  who  have  in  sober  earnest  performed 
the  deeds  which  you  so  successfully  mimic  for  a  weekly  consideration.  I 
maintain  that  for  the  disgusting  bloodthirstiness  and  callous  immorality  of 
the  present  day  you  are  in  a  great  measure  responsible.  You  have  pandered 
to  the  lowest  passions  of  our  nature  by  clothing  in  an  attractive  garb  the 
vilest  actions  of  which  we  are  capable.  As  a  burgomaster,  a  schoolmaster, 
a  king,  a  brother,  a  prince,  and  a  chieftain,  all  of  murderous  proclivities, 
you  have  deluged  the  modern  stage  with  the  sanguine  fluid,  and  strewn  it 
with  corpses.  That  a  succession  of  such  lessons  could  be  harmlessly 
witnessed  by  mixed  audiences  it  is  absurd  to  contend.  Let  any  thinking 
man  look  around  him,  and  the  fruits  of  this  so-called  elevation  of  the  drama 
will  be  painfully  apparent  in  a  myriad  incidents  of  our  daily  life.  Elevate 
the  drama,  forsooth !  You  have  canonised  the  cut-throat,  you  have 
anointed  the  assassin.  Be  content  with  the  ghastly  train  of  butchers  you 
have  foisted  upon  public  attention  and  let  your  next  venture,  at  least,  be 
innocent  of  slaughter.  If  your  performance  of  Othello  be  trumpeted  to 
the  four  winds  of  Heaven  by  the  gang  of  time-serving  reporters  in  your 
employ,  you  will  increase  the  epidemic  of  wife-murder  one  hundredfold,  and 
degrade  the  national  drama  a  further  degree  towards  the  level  of  the 
'  Penny  Dreadful '. — I  am,  Sir,  your  obedient  servant, — A  DISINTERESTED 
OBSERVER." 

Ultimately,  the  printer  was  dismissed  from  the  case,  and 
the  responsible  parties — the  editor  of  the  paper  and  the  writer 

13* 


196      THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xn. 

of  the  article — admitted  their  offence.  Had  not  the  de- 
fendants apologised  in  open  court,  the  magistrate  would  have 
sent  the  case  for  trial.  In  accepting  the  apology,  Mr.  Lewis, 
on  behalf  of  the  actor,  said  :  "  Mr.  Irving  having  heard  from 
the  lips  of  each  of  the  defendants  their  expression  of  extreme 
regret  at  the  conduct  of  which  they  have  been  guilty,  has 
instructed  me  now  not  to  ask  you  to  send  this  case  for  trial. 
Mr.  Irving  having  performed  his  duty  to  society,  and  having 
done  what  he  thinks  was  necessary  for  the  protection  of  the 
interests  of  his  profession,  accepts  the  apologies.  I  have  now 
to  ask  you,  on  behalf  of  the  defendants,  that  they  may  be 
discharged.  .  .  .  This  article  was  in  no  way  honest,  and  it 
was  in  no  way  an  attempt  at  criticism.  Whatever  may  have 
been  the  object  of  the  two  defendants,  it  was  a  publication 
which  it  was  perfectly  impossible  for  Mr.  Irving,  having 
regard  for  his  own  self-esteem  and  his  duty  to  society,  to 
allow  to  pass  unnoticed."  In  regard  to  the  two  defendants, 
it  is  only  necessary  to  say  that  one  has  been  dead  for  a 
number  of  years,  and  the  other — who  was  only  twenty-eight 
years  of  age  when  he  wrote  the  article  in  question — has  since 
risen  to  eminence,  and  has  often  expressed  his  regret  for  the 
rash  act  of  his  younger  days.  Irving  forgave  him  at  the 
time,  and  there  the  matter  ended. 

It  was  in  this  case  that  one  of  those  extraordinary  dis- 
plays of  ignorance — or  affectation — for  which  the  judicial 
bench  is  notorious,  took  place.  Mr.  Toole,  in  the  course  of 
his  evidence,  said :  "  If  it  is  suggested  to  Mr.  Irving  not  to 
play  in  tragedy,  it  is  most  impertinent,  and  in  the  worst  taste," 
whereupon  the  magistrate  remarked  :  "  Perhaps  it  is  quite  out 
of  Mr.  Toole's  line.  No  one  ever  shed  a  tear  who  saw  Mr. 
Toole,"  to  which  remarkable  statement  the  astonished  actor 
could  only  ejaculate,  "I  am  sorry  to  hear  you  say  that". 
For  his  Michael  Garner  in  "  Dearer  Than  Life"  had  drawn 
tears  from  thousands  of  spectators,  and  his  "  Caleb  Plummer  " 
had  been  noted  for  its  pathos  for  over  thirteen  years. 

"  Macbeth,"  notwithstanding  the  criticisms  of  the  cavillers, 
was  played  for  eighty  nights.  Apart  from  the  merits  of 


1875]  LITERARY  INTEREST  197 

Irving's  impersonation — and  these  were  freely  recognised  in 
after  years — the  revival  had  a  literary  interest  which  has, 
generally  speaking,  been  overlooked  in  previous  biographies. 
Never,  since  the  Restoration,  had  the  tragedy  been  presented 
with  more  regard  to  the  intention  of  the  author,  and,  on  no 
other  occasion,  had — to  put  the  case  on  very  modest  ground 
—the  play  been  given  with  more  exact  study  or  cultivated 
taste.  Tradition  went  by  the  board,  and  Irving  thought  for 
himself.  This  welcome  change  was  greeted  warmly  by  one 
of  the  least  enthusiastic  of  Irving's  critics — Joseph  Knight— 
who  wrote  in  the  Athenceum:  "  In  place  of  the  curious  mosaic 
to  which  the  stage  is  used,  we  have  the  words  of  Shakespeare, 
the  music  which  Lock  or  some  one  else  wrote  for  Davenant's 
verses  is  thrust  into  its  proper  place,  in  the  entr'  actes ;  and 
readings  which  are  authoritative  are  given  in  place  of  those 
which  are  popular  or  effective.  A  vindication  of  this  method 
of  treatment,  the  only  treatment  defensible  in  the  case  of 
Shakespeare,  could  scarcely  be  desired  more  complete  than 
was  in  the  present  instance  afforded.  Not  only  was  no  sense 
of  loss  begotten  by  the  absence  of  the  familiar  appendages, 
but  the  scenes,  now  first  divested  of  extraneous  matter,  pro- 
duced, for  the  first  time,  their  full  effect.  From  the  moment 
when,  in  the  opening  scene,  the  witches  were  revealed  by 
flashes  of  lightning  to  that  wherein  they  executed,  in  their 
final  appearance,  that  '  antic  rdund'  to  cheer  the  spirits  of 
Macbeth,  which  all  editions  concur  in  giving,  the  scenes  re- 
mained impressive.  The  scenery  illustrated  the  action  with- 
out overpowering  it,  and  the  costumes,  from  the  highest  to 
the  lowest,  were  at  once  artistic  and  full  of  character. "  Some 
slight  innovations  in  the  text  were  also  commended  by  Mr. 
Knight,  a  critic,  by  the  way,  who  never  tired,  at  this  period, 
of  pointing  out  those  unfortunate  mannerisms — partly  in- 
herent, partly  the  result  of  excess  of  nervousness — which  Irving 
controlled  with  such  mastery  in  his  later  years  that  it  seemed 
impossible  that  they  could  have  been  so  pronounced  as,  it  is 
certain,  they  were.  To  have  triumphed  over  them  was  but  a 
proof — and  a  remarkable  one — of  the  actor's  greatness.  One 


198     THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xm. 

specimen  of  Mr.  Knight's  remarks  on  this  head  will  suffice : 
"  Mr.  Irving  must  learn,"  he  wrote,  in  connection  with  the 
performance  of  Macbeth,  "that  his  mannerisms  have  de- 
veloped into  evils  so  formidable  they  will,  if  not  checked,  end 
by  impeding  his  career.  His  slow  pronunciation  and  his 
indescribable  elongation  of  syllables  bring  the  whole,  occasion- 
ally, near  burlesque.  Mr.  Irving  has  youth,  intelligence, 
ambition,  zeal,  and  resolution.  These  things  are  sacrificed  to 
vices  of  style,  which  have  strengthened  with  the  actor's 
success,  and,  like  all  weeds  of  ill  growth,  have  obtained  ex- 
cessive development.  It  is  impossible  to  preserve  the  music 
of  Shakespeare  if  words  of  one  syllable  are  to  be  stretched 
out  to  the  length  of  five  or  six.  Mr.  Irving's  future  depends 
greatly  on  his  mastery  of  these  defects."  Such  a  pronounce- 
ment, coming  with  the  dignity  of  the  Athenczum,  and  not 
prompted  by  any  desire  to  wound,  must  have  been  an  en- 
couragement to  the  small  fry  of  the  press  to  air  their  spite  of 
the  man  who  had  succeeded  in  drawing,  at  the  age  of  thirty- 
seven,  all  ranks  of  playgoers  for  two  hundred  nights  to 
Hamlet. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 
1876-1877. 

"Othello"  revived  —  Salvini's  rendering  of  the  character — Severe 
criticism  on  Irving's  impersonation — Even  his  costume  offends — Gladstone 
introduces  himself  to  Irving — "  Queen  Mary  "  produced — A  "  family  play  " 
—Irving's  success  stimulates  theatrical  enterprise — He  reads  a  paper  on 
Amusements  at  Shoreditch — A  busy  month — Helen  Faucit  acts  lolanthe 
for  Irving's  benefit — A  triumphal  tour — Honours  in  Dublin — Reappears 
in  London  as  Macbeth — "Richard  III."  revived — His  rooms  in  Grafton- 
street  described. 

"THUS  bad  begins,"  may  be  said,  in  the  words  of  the 
Prince  of  Denmark,  of  some  of  the  newspaper  writers  of  the 
days  before  Irving  became  his  own  manager,  but  "worse 
remains  behind  ".  They  had  been  obliged  to  tolerate  Ham- 
let, for  public  opinion  was  too  strong  for  them  on  this  point, 
and  they  had  steeped  their  pens  in  vitriol  over  Macbeth. 
But  they  were  now  to  get  their  greatest  chance  of  all. 
"Macbeth"  was  followed  by  a  brief  revival  of  "Hamlet," 
pending  a  production  of — "  Othello  " !  This  spirit  of  bravado 
was  too  much  for  anybody  to  endure.  Had  not  the  great 
Italian  actor,  Tommaso  Salvini — he  of  enormous  physique,  of 
organ-like  voice — been  seen  as  the  Moor,  the  true  Moor, 
the  veritable  Moor,  the  only  Moor  that  ever  was,  could,  or 
should  be?  Had  he  not,  in  April,  1875,  come  to  London 
and  conquered,  as  Othello,  and  should  this  stripling  actor,  who 
might  possibly  have  brains,  but  certainly  did  not  possess  a 
bulky  frame,  or  a  round,  mellow  voice  which  could  coo  as 
sweetly  as  a  sucking-dove  or  anon  roar  like  thunder,  be  al- 
lowed to  masquerade  as  Othello?  What  right  had  he,  an 
Englishman,  to  attempt  a  feat  in  which  the  Italian  had 
succeeded  ?  Not  to  speak  of  Salvini,  there  was  the  shade 
of  Gustavus  Vaughan  Brooke  hovering  round  and  forbidding 

199 


200     THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xm. 

such  a  profanation  of  the  sacred  shrine.  But  even  Irving's 
worst  enemies  could  never  deny  that  he  had  courage— 
although  they  called  this  admirable  quality  by  another  name. 
Accordingly,  having  made  his  mind  up  to  attempt  the  awful 
task  of  doing  what  he  had  a  perfect  right  to  do,  he  appeared 
as  Othello  on  Monday,  I4th  February,  1876.  Leaving, 
until  five  years  later,  a  brief  description  of  Irving's  im- 


OTHELLO. 

Revived  at  the  Lyceum,  I4th  February,  1876. 


OTHELLO  - 
DUKE 
BBABANTIO 
RODERIGO 
GRATIANO  - 
LODOVICO  - 
CASSIO 
IAGO 

MONTANO  - 

ANTONIO   - 

JULIO 

MARCO 

PAULO 

DESDEMONA 

EMILIA 


Mr.  HENRY  IRVING. 

Mr.  COLLETT. 

Mr.  MEAD. 

Mr.  CARTON. 

Mr.  HUNTLEY. 

Mr.  ARCHER. 

Mr.  BROOKE. 

Mr.  FORRESTER. 

Mr.  BEAUMONT. 

Mr.  SARGENT. 

Mr.  TAPPING. 

Mr.  HARWOOD. 

Mr.  BUTLER. 

Miss  ISABEL  BATEMAN. 

Miss  BATEMAN  (Mrs.  CROWE). 


ACT  I.,  SCENE  i.  A  Street  in  Venice;  SCENE  2.  Another 
Street  in  Venice;  SCENE  3.  A  Council  Chamber.  ACT  II., 
SCENE  i.  The  Harbour  at  Cyprus ;  SCENE  2.  A  Street  in 
Cyprus ;  SCENE  3.  The  Court  of  Guard.  ACT  III.,  SCENE. 
Othello's  House.  ACT  IV.,  SCENE  i.  Othello's  House; 
SCENE  2.  A  Street  in  Cyprus.  SCENE  3.  Exterior  of  lago's 
House.  ACT  V.,  SCENE.  A  Bedchamber. 


personation — his  conception  of  Othello  did  not  vary  be- 
tween 1876  and  1 88 1,  when  he  acted  it  again — it  may  be 
instructive  to  look  at  some  onslaughts  which  were  the  conse- 
quence of  an  innocent  attempt  of  a  popular  player  to  continue 
his  essays — so  auspiciously  begun  with  Hamlet — in  Shake- 
speare. It  may  be  remarked,  in  passing,  that  Salvini  had 
undoubtedly  made  a  great  impression  as  Othello  in  the 
previous  April.  An  impartial  observer,  the  critic  of  the 
Athenceum,  who,  as  already  pointed  out,  was  not  chary  in 
censuring  Henry  Irving,  said  that  Salvini's  Othello  was 
"splendid  alike  in  its  qualities  and  its  defects,  in  virtues 
which  raise  it  to  something  like  supremacy  in  tragic  art,  and 
in  defects  powerful  enough  to  mar  its  beauty,  and  leave  the 


1 876]  NOT  A  SECOND  SALVINI  201 

prevalent  impression  on  the  mind  one  not  far  from  disappoint- 
ment. 

"  Much  as    English   actors  may  learn  from   the    distin- 
guished stranger  who  now  comes  among  us,  it  will  be  an  evil 
day  for  art  when  young  actors  begin  to  train  themselves  in 
the   school  of   which  he    is   the  most  illustrious   exponent." 
Yet,  because  he  was  not  a  second  Salvini,   Irving  was  con- 
demned out  of  hand  for  his  early  impersonation  of  Othello. 
The  same  impartial  critic  observed  the  gradual  conquest  of 
the  intellectual  nature,  and  its  disappearance  before  the  rising 
passion  and  fury,  which  were  the  keynotes  of  Salvini's  per- 
formance.    In  the  earlier  part  of  the  play,  the  merits  of  the 
impersonation  overshadowed  its  many  defects.     But  in  the 
concluding  scenes  of  the  last  act,  the  conquest  of  the  civilised 
being  by  the  barbarian,  was  carried  out  at   the  sacrifice  of 
Shakespeare's  intentions  and  that  of  art.     The  murder  scene, 
as  he  handled  it,  was  one  of  the  most  repulsive  things  of  the 
kind  ever  witnessed  on  the  stage.     "  He  seizes  Desdemona  by 
the  hair  of  the  head,  and,  dragging  her  on  to  the  bed,  strangles 
her  with  a  ferocity  which  seems  to  delight  in  its  office.     The 
murder    committed,     Othello    walks    agitatedly    backwards 
and  forwards,  not  answering  the  cry  of  Emilia.     When  she 
tells  him  of  the  death  of  Roderigo  by  the  hand  of  Cassio  he 
starts,  then  relapses  into  sullen  fury  of  discontent.      He  re- 
mains motionless  for  a  while  with  eye  glazing,  as  he  learns 
how  mightily  he  has  been  abused,  then  staggers  forward  with 
open  mouth   and  with  a  countenance  charged    with    tragic 
passion.     The  following  words  are  delivered  in  a  wild  aban- 
donment of  grief,  that  in  the  end   becomes  inarticulate    in 
utterance,  and  with  an  accompaniment  of  beating  of  his  head 
with  his  hands  which,  according  to  English  canons  of  art,  is 
excessive.     Suddenly  the  thought  of  the  tempter  comes  to 
him.     Crouching  like  a  wild  beast,  he  prepares  for  a  spring. 
A  sword  is  in  the  girdle  of  one  of  the  attendants.     Upon  this 
he  seizes,  and  passes  it  with  one  thrust  through  the  traitor's 
body.     Staggering  then  to  a  seat,  he  commences,  sitting  and 
weeping,  the  final  speech.     Nearing  the  end,  he  rises,  and  at 


202      THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xm. 

the  supreme  moment  cuts  his  throat  with  a  short  scimitar, 
hacking  and  hewing  with  savage  energy,  and  imitating  the 
noise  that  escaping  blood  and  air  may  make  together  when 
the  windpipe  is  severed.  Nothing  in  art  so  terribly  realistic 
as  this  death-scene  has  been  attempted.  It  is  directly  op- 
posed to  Shakespeare,  who  makes  Othello  say  :— 

I  took  by  the  throat  the  circumcised  dog, 
And  smote  him — thus. 

A  man  does  not  take  by  the  neck  one  whose  throat  he  is 
going  to  cut,  since  he  would  cut  his  own  fingers  in  so  doing. 
He  seizes  one,  on  the  contrary,  into  whose  heart  he  is  about 
to  plunge  a  dagger.  The  word  'smote'  in  Shakespeare  is 
indeed  sufficiently  clear  to  leave  no  room  for  doubt  or  mis- 
conception. The  effect  on  the  audience  is  repellent  to  the 
last  degree.  This  kind  o/  death-scene  needs  only  such  slight 
and  easily  provided  additions  as  the  rupture  of  a  bladder 
of  blood,  which  the  actor  might  place  within  reach,  the  ex- 
hibition of  a  bleeding  throat,  and  a  stream  of  blood  serpenting 
upon  the  floor,  to  reach  the  limits  of  attainable  realism. 
Tendencies  in  the  direction  of  this  kind  of  so-called  art  were 
seen  in  Signora  Ristori,  and  marred  her  marvellously  artistic 
impersonations.  In  the  present  case,  the  effect  is  singularly 
detrimental  to  the  artistic  value  of  the  performance." 

The  murder  scene,  as  acted  by  Salvini,  marred  an  other- 
wise magnificent  performance.  But  the  Italian  actor,  never- 
theless, was  treated  with  extreme  courtesy  by  the  press.  On 
the  other  hand,  Irving  was  treated  more  like  a  man  who  had 
committed  a  crime,  than  an  actor  who  had  done  his  best,  for 
venturing  upon  Othello.  This  was  mild  in  comparison  with 
some  of  the  invectives  :  "  Brain,  industry,  and  nervous  energy 
may  do  much,  but  voice,  concentrated  strength,  and  grace  do 
much  more  for  the  highest  form  of  tragedy.  At  certain  im- 
portant moments,  Mr.  Irving,  well  knowing  what  he  wishes 
to  do,  is  still  not  master  of  himself,  and  somehow  the  fascina- 
tion of  such  plays  as  '  The  Bells '  has  made  him  over- 
enamoured  with  his  own  style.  This  style,  or  mannerism,  is 
increased  rather  than  corrected,  and  we  observe  fresh  instances 


1876]  CONDEMNATION  203 

of  that  habit  of  so  losing  the  character  in  the  dream  of  an  idea 
that  it  becomes  extremely  difficult  for  the  audience  to  follow 
the  actor.  It  ought  not  to  be  necessary  to  know  the  text  in 
order  to  keep  up  with  the  artist,  but  rather  to  be  so  attracted 
by  the  interpretation  as  to  hurry  back  to  the  book.  If  Mr. 
Irving  could  always  correctly  express  what  he  means,  he 
would  be  one  of  the  greatest  of  English  actors.  These  fail- 
ings are  only  brought  prominently  to  notice  when  such  char- 
acters as  the  Moor  of  Venice  are  attempted.  The  physical 
necessities  required  for  a  Hamlet  or  an  Othello  are  not  to  be 
compared."  These  observations,  if  not  very  profound,  were 
made  in  a  kindly  manner.  In  other  quarters,  he  was  con- 
demned in  advance:  ''After  the  impression  made  upon  us 
by  the  wonderful  impersonation  of  Signor  Salvini  in  the  same 
role,  we  confess  that  we  did  not  give  way  to  expectations  of  a 
satisfactory  performance.  Striking  it  was  sure  to  be,  and,  in 
some  respects,  highly  artistic.  But  we  could  not,  by  any 
process  of  imagination,  fancy  Henry  Irving  as  a  fit  exponent 
of  the  ardent  and  passionate  Moorish  general."  A  critic  who 
started  out  with  such  pre-conceived  notions  could  not  be  ex- 
pected to  find  much  pleasure  in  the  performance.  It  is, 
therefore,  not  surprising  to  be  told  that  "the  result  was  not 
satisfactory  ". 

The  new  Othello  gave  great  offence  at  the  outset  by 
his  costume :  (<  Mr.  Irving  appeared  at  first  clothed  in  a 
very  picturesque  scarlet  mantle,  with  a  hood ;  and  from  the 
beginning  he  looked  entirely  different  from  what  any  student 
of  Shakespeare  can  imagine  Othello  to  have  been.  His  per- 
formance throughout  evidenced  such  an  amount  of  care,  of 
study,  and  of  elaboration  that  it  becomes  a  matter  of  difficulty 
to  condemn  his  entire  performance  as  decisively  as  it  deserves 
to  be  condemned.  Mr.  Irving  had  evidently  laboured  to 
avoid  any  of  the  features  of  Salvini's  performances.  He  has 
carried  his  eccentricity  of  both  voice  and  gesture  to  the  verge 
of  the  grotesque.  In  the  scene  where  he  interrupts  the  fight- 
ing between  Cassio  and  Montano  with  '  Put  up  your  bright 
swords  or  the  dew  will  rust  them/  Mr.  Irving  made  an  in- 


204     THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xm. 

articulate  exclamation  which  caused  an  audible  laugh  in  the 
gallery.  In  the  temptation  scene,  'Villain,  be  sure  thou 
prove/  etc.,  his  simulation  of  rage  was  impotent ;  and  when 
he  seized  lago  by  the  throat  there  was  no  dignity  in  his 
wrath,  and  one  felt  surprised  at  a  man  of  lago's  manliness 
submitting  to  such  rough  usage.  His  elocution,  though  in 
one  or  two  passages  extremely  good,  seemed  to  be  marred 
by  the  violence  of  his  efforts  to  express  passion.  It  is  to  be 
regretted  that  an  actor  of  Mr.  Irving's  genius  should  select 
parts  which  by  nature  he  is  unfitted  to  play,  when  he  might 
easily  find  others  suited  to  his  characteristics,  and  which,  with 
half  the  study,  would  prove  more  satisfactory."  As  a  speci- 
men of  wholesale  condemnation,  the  following  may  be  cited : 
"  It  would  be  serving  no  good  purpose,  either  in  the  interest 
of  dramatic  art  or  in  consideration  of  the  future  of  a  talented 
artist,  to  gloss  over  or  discover  excuses  for  the  new  Othello 
at  the  Lyceum.  There  are  times,  no  doubt,  when  all  are 
anxious  and  willing  to  deal  gently  with  ambitious  efforts,  and 
to  err  on  the  side  of  appreciation  wherever  and  whenever  it 
is  clearly  shown  that  ambition  and  modesty  are  combined. 
Encouragement,  on  the  whole,  is  far  more  valuable  as  an  in- 
centive than  wholesale  depreciation  ;  and  many  a  one  of  a 
sanguine  and  energetic  temperament  has  been  saved  to  the 
stage  and  to  the  ennobling  of  art  by  kindly  criticism,  whereas 
he  might  have  been  disheartened  and  prostrated  by  condemna- 
tion, which  is,  after  all,  the  easiest  form  of  criticism.  But  in  the 
case  of  Mr.  Henry  Irving  no  such  scruples  are  needed.  He 
has  made  his  way  by  his  own  intellect,  and  has  received 
generous  encouragement  at  the  hands  of  the  public.  He  has 
been  praised  and  congratulated  with  impulsive  liberality.  As 
a  young  man,  and,  comparatively  speaking,  an  untried  artist, 
he  has  been  lifted  over  the  heads  of  his  seniors  in  the  profes- 
sion who  have  borne  the  labour  and  heat  of  the  day,  and 
probably  there  is  no  actor  of  the  present  time  who  can  so 
well  afford  to  be  told,  clearly  and  emphatically,  when  he  has 
made  a  mistake.  We  do  not  beat  about  the  bush,  or  ask 
people  to  read  between  the  lines.  We  have  no  reason  to  go 


i8;6]  WHOLESALE  ABUSE  205 

out  of  our  way  to  smooth  over  our  disappointment  or  ask  for 
mercy,  and  under  these  circumstances  we  do  not  hesitate  to 
declare  our  disapproval  of  the  Othello  of  Mr.  Henry  Irving. 
To  approve  such  a  performance  would  be  tacitly  to  condemn 
the  great  English  representatives  of  the  character.  To  speak 
favourably  of  such  acting  would  be  to  express  ignorance  of  a 
mass  of  past  criticism.  To  countenance  the  admission  of 
fatal  mannerisms  and  false  elocution  would  be  to  help  sow  the 
seeds  of  a  system  which  might  be  fatal  to  the  stage.  If  it  be 
true  that  the  art  of  the  actor  is  to  hold  the  mirror  up  to  nature 
then  on  that  one  ground  should  this  new  Othello  be  con- 
demned, for  a  representation  of  the  part  more  antagonistic  to 
the  first  principles  of  natural  acting  it  would  be  difficult  to 
conceive.  For  nature  we  get  exaggeration ;  for  elocution, 
scolding ;  for  affection,  melancholy ;  and  for  deportment, 
trick."  Some  seven  hundred  words  of  vituperation  succeeded, 
and  the  abuse  was  half-apologised  for  by  this  excuse  :  "  Over- 
much tragedy  in  long  potent  doses  and  a  distinct  want  of 
physical  power  may  in  a  measure  account  for  this  disappoint- 
ment. But  we  do  not  see  that  anything  can  alter  it.  The 
mannerisms  which  have  been  overlooked  for  so  many  years 
have  now  asserted  themselves  so  prominently  that  they  seri- 
ously interfere  with  the  effect  of  that  admirable  study  which 
Mr.  Irving  always  devotes  to  his  work.  It  is  vexing,  no  doubt, 
that  the  change  should  have  come  so  soon.  His  Hamlet 
was  one  of  those  charming  performances  to  which  the  play- 
goer looks  back  with  infinite  pleasure,  and  we  can  only  ex- 
press our  regret  that  any  persuasion  should  have  induced  the 
actor  to  follow  up  such  a  success  with  characters  for  which  he 
showed  so  few  physical  qualifications."  And  so  the  weary 
tale  went  on.  There  were  some  writers  who  took  Irving's 
view  of  Othello,  and  who  understood  his  interpretation.  But 
the  performance  met  with  general  censure,  and  there  is  no 
doubt  that,  even  as  an  expression  of  Irving's  own  idea  of 
the  character,  it  was  not  equal  to  his  interpretation  of  1881. 
Nor  did  he  himself  think  Othello  one  of  his  most  successful 
efforts,  for,  after  the  latter  date,  he  did  not  repeat  it. 


206     THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xm. 

Irving  had,  by  now,  formed  some  valuable  friendships 
with  people  who  were  eminent  in  other  worlds  than  his  own. 
When  walking  down  Bond  Street  one  day,  he  was  touched 
on  the  shoulder  by  Mr.  Gladstone,  "who  introduced  himself 
with  characteristic  frankness,"  an  incident  which  gave  rise  to 
several  caricatures.  A  night  or  two  later,  the  eminent  states- 
man visited  the  Lyceum  and  congratulated  the  actor  very 
warmly.  Another  friendship  was  that  with  Alfred  Tennyson, 
one  outcome  of  which  was  the  production  of  the  first  play  of 


QUEEN  MARY. 

First  acted  at  the  Lyceum,  i8th  April,  1876. 


PHILIP  OF  SPAIN    - 

GARDINER 

SIMON  RENARD      -        ... 

LE  SlEUR  DE  NOAILLES 

EDWARD  COURTENAY     ... 

LORD  WILLIAM  HOWARD 

SIR  THOMAS  WHITE      ... 

COUNT  DE  FERIA  - 

MASTER  OF  WOODSTOCK 

LORD  PETRE 

MESSENGER 

STEWARD  TO  PRINCESS  ELIZABETH 
ATTENDANT  -  -  -  -  - 
MARY  OF  ENGLAND  ... 
PRINCESS  ELIZABETH  - 
LADY  CLARENCE  -  -  -  - 
LADY  MAGDALEN  DACRES 

JOAN 

TIB 

MAID  OF  HONOUR-        - 

ALICE 


Mr.  HENRY  IRVING. 

Mr.  SWINBOURNE. 

Mr.  BROOKE. 

Mr.  WALTER  BENTLEY. 

Mr.  CARTON. 

Mr.  MEAD. 

Mr.  HUNTLEY. 

Mr.  BEAUMONT. 

Mr.  COLLETT. 

Mr.  STUART. 

Mr.  SARGENT. 

Mr.  NORMAN. 

Mr.  BRANSCOMBE. 

Miss  BATEMAN  (Mrs.  CROWE). 

Miss  VIRGINIA  FRANCIS. 

Miss  PAUNCEFORT. 

Miss  CLAIRE. 

Mrs.  HUNTLEY. 

Mr.  ARCHER. 

Miss  HALL. 

Miss  ISABEL  BATEMAN. 


ACT  I.,  SCENE.  An  Apartment  at  Whitehall.  ACT  II.,  SCENE  i. 
The  Guildhall ;  SCENE  2.  The  Gatehouse  at  Westminster.  ACT  III., 
SCENE  i.  Apartment  at  Woodstock ;  SCENE  2.  Whitehall.  ACT  IV., 
SCENE  i.  Street  in  Smithfield ;  SCENE  2.  Apartment  at  Whitehall. 
ACT  V.,  SCENE  i.  Mansion  near  London  ;  SCENE  2.  The  Queen's 
Oratory. 


the  Poet  Laureate.  This  was  "  Queen  Mary,"  a  five-act 
drama  which,  on  i8th  April,  succeeded  "Othello".  The 
piece,  regarded  as  a  work  for  dramatic  representation,  was  a 
poor  one,  quite  unfitted  for  the  stage.  The  poet  had  done 
his  own  condensation  and  had  done  it  so  ruthlessly  that  no 
less  than  twenty-seven  characters — more  than  half — were 
omitted  from  the  stage  version.  The  most  stirring  scenes, 


1876]  THE  SPANIARD  PRINCE  207 

oddly  enough,  were  cut  out,  and  the  play  was  reduced  to  a 
monotonous  story  of  Mary's  unrequited  love,  Philip's  disdain, 
and  the  hopes  of  the  Princess  Elizabeth.  Cranmer,  bishops 
and  priests,  and  the  crowd  were  left  out  in  order,  presumably, 
not  to  wound  the  religious  susceptibilities  of  the  audience. 
But  a  line,  "  I  am  English  Queen,  not  Roman  Emperor," 
which  was  retained,  produced  a  mild  ebullition  of  feeling. 
The  demonstration  in  question  aroused  one  paper  to  the 
"retort  direct,"  for  it  hastened  to  point  out,  with  a  directness 
which  did  it  credit,  that  "the  political  pulse  of  the  nation  can 
never  be  gauged  by  the  cheers  or  hisses  of  the  fools  that  form 
a  due  proportion  of  every  theatrical  audience".  This  was 
plain  speaking.  But  no  amount  of  political  discussion  could 
save  a  poor  play,  one,  moreover,  which  did  not  contain  a 
prominent  part  for  the  mainstay  of  the  theatre.  The  elder 
Miss  Bateman  had  the  chief  character,  Queen  Mary,  and  her 
performance  of  a  dull  part  could  not  raise  the  piece  to  dis- 
tinction. Her  youngest  sister,  Miss  Virginia  Francis  Bateman 
was  the  Elizabeth,  and  Miss  Isabel  Bateman  had  another 
role.  In  fact,  it  was  a  sort  of  family  play.  Irving  did  not 
come  on  the  stage  until  the  second  scene  of  the  third  act  and 
he  disappeared  with  the  fourth  act,  the  final  portion  of  the 
play  being  left  to  the  representative  of  Queen  Mary,  whose 
sorrows  were  bewailed  through  the  last  act.  Irving,  in  ap- 
pearance, was  a  perfect  Titian  portrait,  and,  for  once,  there 
was  no  complaint  of  his  "  mannerisms  ".  In  look  and  speech, 
he  was  Philip  absolutely.  He  represented  the  stiff  Spaniard 
and  cold,  heartless  grandee  to  the  life.  The  part  might  have 
been  easily  exaggerated.  But  he  kept  it  within  proper  limits. 
He  was,  undoubtedly,  the  poet's  Philip,  princely  in  exterior, 
sarcastic  without  reserve,  cynically  crafty,  aching  with  supreme 
ennui  in  the  presence  of  the  woman  who  would  give  her  life 
for  a  share  of  his  love.  Philip  was  not  a  great  part,  but  it 
was  completely  presented.  An  independent  critic  advised 
"all  who  take  an  interest  in  English  acting  to  go  and  see 
how  efficiently,  how  superbly,  with  what  just  balance  and  due 
discretion,  the  Spaniard  Prince  is  personated  by  Mr.  Irving. 


208     THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xm. 

Gestures,  tone,  and  *  station '  are  alike  admirable,  profoundly 
studied  and  shown  forth." 

"Queen  Mary"  was,  at  least,  useful  in  giving  a  respite 
from  strenuous  work  and  in  allaying  the  abuse  of  acrimonious 
critics.  The  action  for  libel  which  had  preceded  it  had,  no 
doubt,  a  wholesome  effect  in  the  latter  direction.  But  the  rise 
of  the  young  actor  had  also  an  influence  on  the  London 
theatres  and  the  playgoing  public  in  general.  The  Easter 
of  1876  witnessed  unusual  activity  on  the  stage.  Indeed, 
the  number  of  plays  then  acted  had  not  been  approached 
within  the  recollection  of  the  oldest  playgoer.  In  addition 
to  the  piece  by  Tennyson,  there  was  a  new  drama  by 
Wilkie  Collins  —  ''Miss  Gwilt,"  adapted  from  his  novel, 
"  Armadale" — at  the  now  defunct  Globe  Theatre  ;  a  melo- 
dramatic comedy,  "Wrinkles,"  by  Henry  J.  Byron,  at  the 
Prince  of  Wales's  Theatre,  Tottenham  Court  Road  ;  a  comic 
melodrama,  "Struck  Oil,"  at  the  Adelphi ;  a  three-act  Palais 
Royal  farce,  "The  Great  Divorce  Case,"  with  Charles 
Wyndham  in  the  principal  part,  at  the  Criterion ;  and  a 
nautical  transpontine  drama  at  the  Surrey.  The  St.  James's 
and  the  Royalty  were  devoted  to  comic  operas,  the  Charing 
Cross  (afterwards  Toole's,  and  subsequently  destroyed  for  the 
enlargement  of  the  hospital)  had  been  opened  "  with  varieties  " 
by  John  Hollingshead,  while  a  new  spectacle  had  been  pro- 
duced at  the  Alhambra.  There  were  also  two  distinguished 
foreign  artists  in  London — the  Italian  tragedian,  Ernesto 
Rossi,  at  Drury  Lane,  and  a  German  tragedienne,  Madame 
Janauschek,  at  the  Hay  market.  The  Irving  influence  was 
already  benefiting  the  other  members  of  his  profession.  In 
connection  with  "  Queen  Mary,"  Robert  Browning,  who  was 
present  on  the  first  night  wrote  the  next  day  to  "  my  dear 
Tennyson  "  assuring  him,  rather  prematurely,  of  "  the  complete 
success"  of  the  play.  "Irving  was  very  good  indeed,"  he 
continued,  "and  the  others  did  their  best,  not  so  badly.  The 
love  as  well  as  admiration  for  the  author  was  conspicuous, 
indeed,  I  don't  know  whether  you  ought  to  have  been  present 
to  enjoy  it,  or  were  safer  in  absence  from  a  smothering  of 


1876] 


"IS  SUPPER  READY?" 


209 


VOL.  I. 


210     THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xm. 

flowers  and  deafening  *  tumult  of  acclaim'.  But  Hallam  was 
there  to  report,  and  Mrs.  Tennyson  is  with  you  to  believe. 
All  congratulations  to  you  both."  According  to  a  less 
enthusiastic  spectator,  the  play  was  received,  at  the  first  re- 
presentation, with  respectful  attention  and  frequent  tokens  of 
enthusiasm.  At  the  conclusion,  Irving  appeared  before  the 
curtain  and  announced  that,  unfortunately,  the  author  had 
not  been  able  to  be  present,  but  that,  "with  permission,"  he 
was  about  to  telegraph  him  that  the  play  had  been  "with  the 
audience  generally,  a  confirmed  success".  Irving,  as  Philip, 
wore  light  hair  and — a  beard. 

Friday,  the  3ist  of  March,  was  a  memorable  date  in  the 
life  of  the  subject  of  this  biography.  Henry  Irving  then 
delivered  the  first  of  his  many  addresses  on  the  stage.  His 
paper  was  entitled  "Amusements,"  and  it  was  read  at  the 
Conference  in  connection  with  the  Church  of  England  Tem- 
perance Society,  in  the  Town  Hall,  Shoreditch.  He  de- 
nounced the  evils  of  drinking  among  the  lower  orders,  and 
urged  that  the  theatre  should  be  advocated  as  a  resort  where 
an  entertainment  could  be  enjoyed  by  the  middle  and  lower 
classes  alike.  "  Make  the  theatre  respected  by  openly  recog- 
nising its  services,"  he  pleaded.  "  Make  it  more  respectable 
by  teaching  the  working  and  lower  middle  classes  to  watch 
for  good  or  even  creditable  plays,  and  to  patronise  them 
when  presented.  Let  members  of  religious  congregations 
know  that  there  is  no  harm,  but,  rather,  good  in  entering 
into  ordinary  amusements,  as  far  as  they  are  decorous.  Use 
the  pulpit,  the  press,  and  the  platform  to  denounce,  not  the 
stage,  but  certain  evils  that  find  allowance  on  it.  In  England, 
attendance  at  a  theatre — I  know  this  well,  for  I  was  brought 
up  in  Cornwall — is  too  commonly  regarded  as  a  profession 
of  irreligion.  Break  down  this  foolish  and  vicious  idea,  and 
one  may  hope  that  some  inroads  may  be  made  on  the  do- 
minions of  the  drink  demon  and  some  considerable  acreages 
annexed  to  the  dominions  of  religion  and  virtue." 

June  was  an  exceedingly  busy  month  for  the  hardworking 
actor  who  had  raised  the  Lyceum  Theatre  to  such  eminence. 


1 876]  DORICOURT  AGAIN  211 

On  the  afternoon  of  Thursday  the  8th,  "The  School  for 
Scandal"  was  acted  at  Drury  Lane  for  the  benefit  of  the 
popular  comedian,  J.  B.  Buckstone,  who  was  associated  for 
so  long  with  the  Hay  market  Theatre.  The  performance,  in 
fact,  was  a  well-earned  recognition  of  his  connection  with  that 
house,  as  lessee  and  manager,  for  twenty-three  years,  and  of 
his  public  services  as  an  actor  for  close  upon  half  a  century. 
Irving  played  Joseph  Surface  a  character  which,  it  will  be  re- 
called, he  acted  at  the  St.  James's  Theatre  in  1867.  The 
cast  of  the  Drury  Lane  performance  embraced  all  the  principal 
players  of  the  day,  and  was  as  follows :  Sir  Peter  Teazle, 
Samuel  Phelps ;  Sir  Oliver  Surface,  S.  Emery ;  Joseph  Sur- 
face, Henry  Irving;  Charles  Surface,  Charles  Mathews ;  Sir 
Benjamin  Backbite,  J.  B.  Buckstone  ;  Crabtree,  John  Ryder ; 
Careless,  C.  F.  Coghlan ;  Trip,  Mr.  S.  B.  Bancroft ;  Moses, 
David  James ;  Snake,  B.  Webster ;  Rowley,  Henry  Howe ; 
Sir  Harry,  Mr.  Charles  Santley  ;  Musical  guest,  J.  Parry; 
Sir  Toby,  F.  Everill ;  Servant  to  J.  Surface,  Edward  Righton  ; 
Servant  to  Sir  P.  Teazle,  Mr.  C.  Sugden ;  Servant  to  Lady 
Sneerwell,  Arthur  Cecil ;  Lady  Teazle,  Adelaide  Neilson ; 
Mrs.  Candour,  Mrs.  Stirling ;  Lady  Sneerwell,  Mrs.  Alfred 
Mellon ;  Maria,  Miss  Lucy  Buckstone ;  Lady  Teazle's  Maid, 
Miss  E.  Farren.  Mrs.  Keeley  delivered  an  address,  written 
by  Henry  J.  Byron,  to  which  Buckstone  responded.  The 
stage-manager  was  Edward  Stirling.  It  is  sad  to  think 
that  of  all  that  gallant  crowd  there  are  now  only  three  sur- 
vivors— Sir  Squire  Bancroft,  Sir  Charles  Santley,  and  Mr. 
Charles  Sugden. 

On  the  following  Monday,  I2th  June,  "The  Bells"  and 

'  The  Belle's  Stratagem  "  were  revived  at  the  Lyceum.  As 
the  former  play  had  been  acted  so  recently,  it  did  not  require 
much  rehearsal,  but  Mrs.  Cowley's  comedy  was  new  to  the 
present  company.  Irving,  of  course,  was  the  Doricourt  and 
thereby  recalled  his'previous  performance  of  1 866.  Miss  Isabel 

Bateman  was  the  Letitia  Hardy.  Her  sister,  Miss  Virginia 
"  Francis,"  was  the  Mrs.  Racket,  and  the  cast  included  the 
late  Miss  Lucy  Buckstone — daughter  of  the  Haymarket  Buck- 

14* 


212     THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xm. 

stone — Mr.  E.  H.  Brooke,  and  Mr.  Walter  Bentley.  On 
the  following  Friday  afternoon,  Irving  appeared  at  a  charity 
performance.  His  position  is  somewhat  curiously  indicated 
by  the  following  reference  :  "  It  has  come  to  pass  that  wher- 
ever Mr.  Henry  Irving  appears,  or  whatever  he  performs, 
there  are  two  or  three  gathered  together  in  his  name.  There- 
fore, it  was  a  wise  and  politic  thing  of  the  promoters  of  the 
benefit  performance  in  aid  of  the  funds  of  '  The  Samaritan 
Free  Hospital  for  Women  and  Children '  to  seek  the  assistance 
of  the  popular  tragedian.  The  performance  took  place  in  St. 


THE  BELLE'S  STRATAGEM. 


Revived  at  the  Lyceum, 

DORICOURT         - 

Mr.  HARDY 

SIR  GEORGE  TOUCHWOOD   - 

FLUTTER    

SAVILLE 

VILLERS      - 

COURTALL  -         -         -         -         - 

LETITIA  HARDY  - 

Mrs.  RACKET       -        ... 

LADY  FRANCES  TOUCHWOOD 


I2th  June,  1876. 

Mr.  HENRY  IRVING. 

Mr.  J.  ARCHER. 

Mr.  BEAUMONT. 

Mr.  BROOKE. 

Mr.  BENTLEY. 

Mr.  CARTON. 

Mr.  STUART. 

Miss  ISABEL  BATEMAN. 

Miss  VIRGINIA  FRANCIS. 

Miss  LUCY  BUCKSTONE. 


ACT  I.,  SCENE  i.  Lincoln's  Inn  ;  SCENE  2.  An  Apartment  at 
Doricourt's ;  SCENE  3.  A  Room  in  Hardy's  House.  ACT  II., 
SCENE.  Ballroom.  ACT  III.,  SCENE  i.  Hardy's  House; 
SCENE  2.  Doricourt's  Bedchamber;  SCENE  3.  Queen  Square; 
SCENE  4.  A  Room  in  Hardy's  House. 


George's  Hall,  and  Mr.  Irving  recited  Hood's  '  Dream  of 
Eugene  Aram '  in  his  well-known  style.  As  soon  as  he  had 
finished,  a  number  of  his  more  immediate  worshippers  rose 
and  left  the  house.  So  soon  as  the  excitement  consequent 
upon  their  exodus  had  subsided,  the  curtain  rose  upon  the 
chief  feature  of  the  entertainment,  namely,  'His  Last  Legs,' 
performed  by  amateurs."  The  unconscious  humour  of  the 
last  sentence  is  not  bad. 

On  Friday,  the  23rd,  Irving  took  his  benefit  at  the  Lyceum, 
and  played  three  parts — Count  Tristan  in  Sir  Theodore  Mar- 
tin's version  of  "  King  Rent's  Daughter,"  Eugene  Aram,  and 
Doricourt  Additional  interest  was  lent  to  the  occasion  by 
the  circumstance  that  Miss  Helen  Faucit,  who  played  lolanthe 
to  the  Count  Tristan  of  Henry  Irving,  then  made  her  last 


1876]  HONOURS  IN  DUBLIN  213 

appearance  on  the  stage.  The  season,  which  was  memorable 
for  several  reasons,  closed  on  the  following  evening  with 
"Hamlet". 

The  autumn  of  1876  was  an  auspicious  one  for  the  actor. 
It  brought  him  renewed  triumphs  and  fresh  honours,  and  it 
ushered  in  a  year  of  great  artistic  and  popular  success.  He 
had  the  satisfaction  of  attracting  nearly  eighteen  thousand 
people  in  a  city  where  he  had  endured  many  trials  and  done 
much  hard  work — Manchester.  Crowded  audiences,  the  en- 
thusiasm of  which  was  striking,  also  welcomed  him  in  Birming- 
ham, Liverpool,  Newcastle,  Edinburgh,  Dundee,  Glasgow, 
Belfast,  and  Dublin.  The  warmth  of  his  reception  in  the  latter 
city  more  than  atoned  for  the  unmerited  wrath  which  had  been 
heaped  upon  his  innocent  head  sixteen  years  previously.  On 
9th  December,  the  graduates  and  undergraduates  of  Trinity 
College  presented  him — the  ceremony  taking  place  in  the 
historic  dining-hall  of  the  University  of  Dublin — with  an  ad- 
dress which  read  as  follows  :  "  Sir, — The  engagement  which 
you  bring  to  a  conclusion  to-night  at  the  Theatre  Royal  has 
given  the  liveliest  pleasure  to  the  graduates  and  undergraduates 
of  Trinity  College,  Dublin.  To  the  most  careful  students  of 
Shakespeare  you  have,  by  your  scholarly  and  original  inter- 
pretation, revealed  new  depths  of  meaning  in  *  Hamlet,'  and 
aroused  in  the  minds  of  all  a  fresh  interest  in  our  highest  poetry. 
As  Charles  the  First,  in  the  new  drama  of  our  countryman, 
Mr.  Wills,  you  have  set  forth  the  dignity  of  fallen  grandeur. 
You  have  depicted  in  'The  Bells,'  with  a  terrible  fidelity,  the 
Nemesis  that  waits  on  crime.  For  the  delight  and  instruction 
that  we  (in  common  with  our  fellow-citizens)  have  derived  from 
all  your  impersonations,  we  tender  you  our  sincere  thanks. 
But  it  is  something  more  than  gratitude  for  personal  pleasure 
or  personal  improvement  that  moves  us  to  offer  this  public 
homage  to  your  genius.  Acting  such  as  yours  ennobles  and 
elevates  the  stage,  and  serves  to  restore  it  to  its  true  function 
as  a  potent  instrument  for  intellectual  and  moral  culture. 
Throughout  your  too  brief  engagement  our  stage  has  been  a 
school  of  true  art,  a  purifier  of  the  passions,  and  a  nurse  of 


2i4     THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xm. 

heroic  sentiments ;  you  have  even  succeeded  in  commending 
it  to  the  favour  of  a  portion  of  society,  large  and  justly  influ- 
ential, who  usually  hold  aloof  from  the  theatre.  It  is  not  too 
much  to  say  that  with  opportunities  such  as  you  have  afforded 
us,  Dublin  audiences  might  again  become  what  tradition  re- 
ports them  once  to  have  been — a  tribunal  whose  approval 
went  far  to  make  the  fame  of  an  artist  hitherto  unknown,  and 
without  whose  sanction  no  reputation  was  considered  to  be 
absolutely  assured."  A  few  hours  later,  the  Theatre  Royal 
was  packed  from  floor  to  ceiling,  and  "  Hamlet"  was  played 
before  an  audience  headed  by  the  Lord- Lieutenant  of  Ireland 
and  the  Duke  of  Connaught,  and  including  five  hundred  students 
of  Trinity  College  as  well  as  the  representative  men  of  Dublin 
in  other  walks  of  life,  many  clergymen  being  conspicuous.  Ail 
the  University  men,  past  and  present,  wore  rosettes,  and,  when 
the  actor  whom  they  had  come  to  honour  made  his  first  ap- 
pearance, it  seemed  as  though  the  applause  would  never  cease. 
At  the  end  of  the  tragedy,  the  enthusiasm  knew  no  bounds, 
nor  did  it  abate  until  the  students  had  escorted  the  hero  of  the 
hour  to  his  hotel. 

On  the  following  Monday,  i6th  December,  Irving  returned 
to  the  Lyceum  and  reappeared — in  open  defiance  of  all  the 
carping  critics — as  Macbeth.  His  judgment  in  so  doing  was 
endorsed  by  the  verdict  of  the  public.  For  he  was  received 
—and  it  is  well  to  take  the  recorded  description  of  a  very 
guarded  critic — "with  an  enthusiasm  which  may  best  be  de- 
scribed as  passionate.  A  sight  such  as  is  now  presented  is 
quite  unprecedented  in  stage  history,  and  is  worth  taking  into 
account  by  those  who  study  the  age  in  its  various  manifesta- 
tions. We  have  here  a  man  whom  a  large  portion  of  the 
public,  and  by  no  means  the  least  cultivated  section,  receives 
as  a  great  actor.  The  manifestations  are,  moreover,  such  as 
we  read  of  in  the  case  of  the  greatest  of  his  predecessors,  and 
contain  that  mixture  of  admiration  and  personal  regard  which 
men  like  Kean  or  Kemble  were  able  to  inspire  in  their  ad- 
mirers. Yet  criticism  holds  itself  aloof,  discontented  and 
unsympathetic  " — this  was  not  the  casein  regard  to  "  Hamlet," 


i8;7] 


RICHARD  III. 


215 


or  in  the  provinces,  nor  was  it  true  in  a  general  sense — "and 
the  actor's  own  profession,  though  it  is,  of  course,  sensible  of 
merit,  fails  to  partake  the  enthusiasm  of  the  public."  This 
observation  about  Irving's  "brother"  actors  is  very  curious, 
as  it  shows  their  disposition  towards  him  in  1876.  But,  for 


RICHARD  THE  THIRD. 

Revived  at  the  Lyceum,  agth  January,  1877. 


KINO  EDWARD  IV.       - 

EDWARD,  PRINCE  OF  WALES 

RICHARD,  DUKE  OF  YORK    - 

GEORGE,  DUKE  OF  CLARENCE 

RICHARD,  DUKE  OF  GLOUCESTER 

HENRY,  EARL  OF  RICHMOND 

CARDINAL  BOURCHIER 

DUKE  OF  BUCKINGHAM 

DUKE  OF  NORFOLK      - 

LORD  RIVERS       .... 

LORD  HASTINGS  - 

LORD  STANLEY  .... 

LORD  LOVEL   - 

MARQUIS  OF  DORSET  - 

LORD  GREY         .... 

SIR  RICHARD  RATCLIFF 

SIR  WILLIAM  CATESBY 

SIR  JAMES  TYRREL      - 

SIR  JAMES  BLUNT        ... 

SIR  ROBERT  BRACKENBURY- 

DR.  SHAW 

LORD  MAYOR       .... 

FIRST  MURDERER 

SECOND  MURDERER     ... 

QUEEN  MARGARET       - 

QUEEN  ELIZABETH 

DUCHESS  OF  YORK       ... 

LADY  ANNE          .... 


Mr.  BEAUMONT. 
Miss  BROWN. 
Miss  HARWOOD. 
Mr.  WALTER  BENTLEY. 
Mr.  HENRY  IRVING. 
Mr.  E.  H.  BROOKE. 

Mr.  COLLETT. 

Mr.  T.  SWINBOURNE. 

Mr.  HARWOOD. 

Mr.  CARTON. 

Mr.  R.  C.  LYONS. 

Mr.  A.  W.  PINERO. 

Mr.  SERJEANT. 

Mr.  SEYMOUR. 

Mr.  ARTHUR  DILLON. 

Mr.  LOUTHER. 

Mr.  J.  ARCHER. 

Mr.  A.  STUART. 

Mr.  BRANSCOMBE. 

Mr.  H.  SMYLES. 

Mr.  TAPPING. 

Mr.  ALLEN. 

Mr.  T.  MEAD. 

Mr.  HUNTLEY. 

Miss  BATEMAN. 

Miss  PAUNCEFORT. 

Mrs.  HUNTLEY. 

Miss  ISABEL  BATEMAN. 


ACT  I.,  SCENE  i.  A  Street.  ACT  II.,  SCENE  i.  King's 
Ante-Chamber ;  SCENE  2.  Prison  in  the  Tower ;  SCENE  3. 
Ante-Chamber.  ACT  III.,  SCENE  i.  Chamber  in  the  Tower ; 
SCENE  2.  Hastings'  House;  SCENE  3.  Council  Chamber  in 
Baynard's  Castle.  ACT  IV.,  SCENE  i.  The  Presence  Cham- 
ber; SCENE  2.  Room  in  the  Tower;  SCENE  3.  Tower  Hill. 
ACT  V.,  SCENE  i.  Richmond's  Encampment;  SCENE  2.  The 
Royal  Tent;  SCENE  3.  Richmond's  Tent;  SCENE  4.  The 
Battle  Field. 


all  that,  he  guided  his  own  course  then,  as  in  after  years,  and, 
while  "  Macbeth"  was  being  played,  preparations  were  afoot 
for  a  fourth  Shakespearean  venture.  This  was  "  Richard  1 1 1.," 
which  was  produced  on  29th  January,  1877,  and  thereby 
accomplishing,  among  other  things,  the  overthrow  of  the  tra- 
vesty of  the  tragedy  by  Colley  Gibber  which  had  held  the 


THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xin. 

stage  for  close  upon  two  centuries.  The  Lyceum  programme 
stated  that  the  version  then  presented  was  "strictly  the  original 
text,  without  interpolations,  but  simply  with  such  omissions 
and  transpositions  as  have  been  found  essential  for  dramatic 
representation  ".  This  restoration  of  the  original  play  was 
commended  in  all  quarters.  As  for  the  interpretation  of 
the  chief  character,  it  was  generally  conceded,  even  by  the 
most  adverse  of  Irving's  critics,  that  the  impersonation  was 
a  splendid  one  and  that  the  "  mannerisms  "  had  been  so  sub- 
dued as  to  be  almost  invisible.  The  truth  was  that  Irving's 
supremacy  with  the  public  was  paramount,  and  there  was  no 
use  in  flying  in  the  face  of  the  popular  verdict.  Even  Button 
Cook  had  to  relax  the  studied  rigidity  of  his  style.  Yet 
he  could  not  do  so  without  a  gibe  which  was  not  in  strict 
accordance  with  facts.  "  Of  late  there  has  been  a  measure 
of  decline  in  the  fervour  of  the  reception  awarded  to  Mr. 
Irving's  performances  of  Shakespeare."  The  great  towns  of 
the  provinces,  it  will  be  observed,  had  no  place  for  the  London 
critic,  and  he  ignored  the  warmth  of  the  reception — in  the 
previous  month — of  Irving  as  Macbeth.  However,  in  his 
grudging  way,  for  he  had  an  ineradicable  habit  of  taking  back 
with  his  left  hand  that  which  he  gave  with  his  right,  he  con- 
ceded the  merits  of  the  rendering.  "The  performance,"  he 
concluded,  "will  without  doubt  gain  by  the  further  considera- 
tion the  artist  can  now  bring  to  his  undertaking ;  experience 
will  teach  him  to  economise  his  forces,  to  reduce  the  ine- 
qualities of  his  portraiture,  and  to  rid  himself  of  the  minor 
defects  of  redundant  action  and  excessive  play  of  face.  But, 
as  it  stands,  this  representation  of  Shakespeare's  Richard  may 
surely  take  its  place  among  the  most  remarkable  of  histrionic 
achievements.  As  an  actor's  first  impersonation  of  a  part 
entirely  new  to  him,  it  is  startling  in  its  originality,  in  its  power, 
and  completeness. "  The  same  critic  pointed  out  the  inefficiency 
of  the  company,  so  that  Irving  as  Richard  had  to  fight  his 
battles  alone — not  that  this  was  any  new  thing  for  the  actor. 
"The  fact  that  the  Lyceum  company  includes  several  very 
inefficient  performers  may  be  accepted  as  a  sufficient  reason 


1 877]     AT  HOME  IN  GRAFTON  STREET        217 

for  the  excision  of  much  matter  which  otherwise  might  well 
have  been  retained,"  he  said.  "If,  for  instance,  we  are  to  have 
a  ranting  Duke  of  Clarence,  it  seems  but  prudent  to  limit  his 
opportunities  of  speech ;  and  so,  considering  the  monotonous 
violence  of  Miss  Bateman's  Margaret  of  Anjou,  there  is  sound 
judgment  manifested  in  the  elimination  of  that  vociferous 
character  from  the  later  acts  of  the  tragedy."  He  does  not 
otherwise  notice  the  acting  of  the  subsidiary  characters  in  the 
revival,  and  Joseph  Knight,  having  dealt  exhaustively  with 
the  acting  of  Irving  as  Richard,  merely  says  :  "  The  remainder 
of  the  cast  affords  little  opportunity  for  favourable  comment ". 
At  the  same  time  it  is  only  just  to  state  that  other  writers 
were  in  favour  of  the  intelligence  of  Miss  Isabel  Bateman  as 
Lady  Anne  and  of  the  value  of  Miss  Bateman  as  Queen 
Margaret.  And  many  old  playgoers  recall  that  Mr.  Walter 
Bentley  secured  great  applause  for  the  power  and  elocutionary 
skill  which  he  displayed  in  the  delivery  of  Clarence's  dream. 
It  is  worthy  of  note  that  Mr.  A.  W.  Pinero  made  his  first 
appearance  at  the  Lyceum  as  Lord  Stanley  in  this  revival. 

In  autumn  of  this  year  Irving  had  won  the  right  to  be  in- 
cluded among  the  "  Celebrities  at  Home,"  in  the  World, 
the  paper  founded  and  then  edited  by  Edmund  Yates. 
The  part  dealing  with  the  rooms  in  Grafton  Street,  Bond 
Street,  in  which  the  actor  then  lived,  is  pleasant  reading. 
After  a  chatty  dissertation  upon  the  characteristic  home  life 
of  the  actor  of  that  time — who,  as  a  rule,  greatly  favoured 
the  Brompton  district — the  article  dealt  with  "the  excep- 
tion" in  the  person  of  "the  gentleman  who,  above  all  others 
in  the  present  day,  evokes  the  applause  of  the  British  play- 
goer. He  has  pitched  his  tent  within  the  busy  haunts  of 
men,  and  elaborates  his  studies  of  the  creations  of  the  Bard 
of  Avon,  within  cry  of  St.  James's  Street  clubs.  Yet  is  his 
dwelling  wholly  different  from  the  ordinary  'rooms'  or 
'  chambers '  tenanted  by  the  wealthy  wifeless  which  abound  in 
the  vicinity.  The  ordinary  trophies  of  the  upholsterer's  art 
with  which  these  latter  are  decorated  are  indeed  to  be  found  in 
the  tragedian's  dining-room,  and  in  the  room  where  he  courts 


THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING    [CHAP.  xm. 

his  slumbers — if  rumour  is  to  be  believed,  not  until  long  after 
ordinary  mortals  are  at  rest.  But  his  study,  his  sanctum, 
the  room  in  which  he  sits  deep  into  the  night,  reading  or 
musing  or  chatting — if  the  odd  intermittent  fragments  of 
criticism,  of  anecdote,  or  enquiry,  can  be  described  by  so 
bald  a  word — has  in  its  appearance  much  that  is  quaint  and 
special,  and  suggestive  of  nothing  in  common  with  the  apart- 
ment occupied  by  gilded  youth  or  club-haunting  fogey.  It 
has  a  somewhat  sombre  air  ;  for  the  London  sunlight,  never 
too  brilliant,  is  further  modified  by  having  to  find  its  way 
through  windows  of  stained  glass,  and  there  are  evidences 
that  the  sacrilegious  brush  of  the  housemaid  is  never  per- 
mitted within  the  precincts.  Nowhere  could  be  found  a  more 
perfect  example  of  the  confusion  and  neglect  of  order  in  which 
the  artistic  mind  delights.  It  is  visible  everywhere — in  the 
yawning  gaps  in  the  bookshelves,  from  which  the  volumes  now 
strewing  the  floor  have  been  hastily  dragged  for  reference  or 
study  ;  in  the  rucks  and  folds  of  the  huge  tiger-skin  rug,  which 
has  suffered  grievously  under  the  impatient  trampings  of  its 
owner  ;  in  the  table  pushed  on  one  side,  and  groaning  under 
its  accumlated  litter  of  books,  prints,  MSS. — what  an  enormous 
amount  of  dormant  talent  may  there  not  be  in  these  MSS.  with 
which  a  favourite  actor  is  so  constantly  pelted ! — its  blotting- 
book,  gaping  inkstand,  and  '  chevaux  de  frise '  of  pens.  The 
piano  is  opened — perhaps  Robert  Stoepel,  most  sympathetic 
of  musical  conductors,  left  it  so,  after  trying  a  little  introduc- 
tory '  melo,'  quaint  and  weird  as  that  tremulous  composition 
of  his  which  announces  the  advent  of  the  Ghost  in  the  *  Corsi- 
can  Brothers '.  At  the  foot  of  the  music-stool  is  a  large  brown 
paper  package,  obviously  containing  boxes  of  cigars,  and  bear- 
ing the  name  of  a  well-known  tobacconist  in  Pall  Mall ;  a 
Louis  Quinze  clock  ticks  from  an  unsuspected  corner  ;  a  few 
antique  chairs  shrug  their  high  shoulders,  as  though  com- 
pletely overwhelmed  by  the  confusion ;  and  the  broad  sofa 
seems,  from  the  variety  of  its  contents,  to  have  lost  its  identity, 
and  to  be  undecided  whether  it  was  intended  for  a  wardrobe,  a 
bookcase,  or  a  portfolio.  On  the  walls  are  to  be  found  many 


18;;]  PERSONALITY  219 

a  'vera  effigies'  of  the  owner's  friends,  both  public  and 
private,  but — noteworthy  fact  when  the  owner  is  an  actor- 
no  portrait  of  himself.  Here  is  a  proof  of  Maclise's  splendid 
representation  of  the  play-scene  in  '  Hamlet' ;  here  are  prints 
of  Paul  Delaroche's  *  Last  Banquet '  of  the  Girondins,  and 
of  Richelieu  sailing  in  his  barge ;  here,  with  an  autograph  in- 
scription *  a  L'amico  Irving,'  is  a  portrait  of  Rossi,  the 
Italian  tragedian,  as  Nero ;  here,  with  the  fragment  of  a 
pleasant  note,  is  a  clever  sketch  by  John  Tenniel,  showing  his 
notion  for  the  armour  of  Othello.  In  the  space  between  two 
doors  hangs  a  copy  of  that  marvellous  photograph  of  Charles 
Dickens,  taken  on  his  last  visit  to  New  York  by  Gurney,  in 
which  the  furrows,  deeply  graven  by  time  and  trouble  and 
hard  work,  are  so  pitilessly  rendered,  but  which  is,  after  all, 
the  most  satisfactory  likeness  to  those  who  knew  and  loved 
him  in  his  later  years.  Close  by  is  a  medallion  of  Emile 
Devrient,  another  of  Charles  Young  by  Marochetti,  and  a 
splendid  head  of  Sir  John  Herschell. 

"The  owner  of  these  rooms  is  just  now  one  of  the  best- 
known  men  in  London.  As  he  jerks  along  the  street  with 
league-devouring  stride,  his  long,  dark  hair  hanging  over  his 
shoulders,  his  look  dreamy  and  absent,  his  cheeks  wan  and 
thin,  the  slovenly  air  with  which  his  clothes  are  worn  in  con- 
trast with  their  fashionable  cut,  people  turn  to  stare  after  him 
and  tell  each  other  who  he  is.  His  is  the  high  place  now  in 
that  particular  section  of  society  which  pats  itself  complacently 
on  the  forehead,  and  tells  itself  how  clever  it  is  ;  the  dilettante 
givers  of  breakfasts  and  the  huntresses  of  two-legged  lions 
struggle  for  his  company ;  and  he  bestows  it  upon  them  now 
and  then,  though  he  is  happier  with  an  old  friend  and  a  cigar 
and  a  long  talk  deep  into  the  night  of  the  ups  and  downs,  the 
incomings  and  outgoings,  the  mysterious  workings  of  that  pro- 
fession which  he  follows  and  loves."  In  the  following  year, 
Yates  published  a  volume  of  these  articles  in  "  Celebrities  of 
the  Day,"  beginning,  of  course,  with  the  Prince  of  Wales. 
Next  in  order  came  Tennyson,  John  Bright,  Gladstone,  and 
Henry  Irving. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

1877. 

Irving  contributes  to  the  Nineteenth  Century — His  preface  to  "  Richard 
III." — He  receives  various  souvenirs — Mr.  H.  J.  Loveday  joins  the 
Lyceum — "The  Lyons  Mail" — A  reading  in  Dublin — Other  events — The 
Prince  and  Princess  of  Wales  see  "The Lyons  Mail" — Their  verdict  on 
Irving's  acting  in  this  play — A  long  provincial  tour — "The  Fashionable 
Tragedian  " — A  scurrilous  pamphlet — Causes  Irving  to  be  misrepresented 
—His  explanation  and  views  on  the  subject — Account  of  Irving's  initiation 
into,  and  connection  with,  Freemasonry. 

His  impersonation  of  Richard  tempted  him  to  enter  the 
literary  field,  for  it  brought  him  more  vividly  than  ever  before 
the  public,  and  his  "  Notes  on  Shakespeare,"  in  the  Nineteenth 
Century  for  April  and  May,  1877,  attracted  considerable 
attention.  His  acting  in  "  Hamlet,"  in  the  scene  where  the 
Prince  discovers  that  his  interview  with  Ophelia  has  been 
spied  upon  by  the  King  and  her  father,  had  been  taken  to 
task  in  certain  quarters,  and  he  now  defended  his  reading  of 
the  character  at  this  point.  It  is  in  this  scene,  he  contended, 
that "  Hamlet's  excitement  reaches  its  greatest  height.  Goaded 
within  and  without,  nay,  dragged  even  by  his  own  feelings  in 
two  opposite  directions,  in  each  of  which  he  suspects  he  may 
have  gone  too  far  under  the  eyes  of  the  indignant  witnesses,  he 
is  maddened  by  the  thought  that  they  are  still  observing  him, 
and  as  usual,  half  in  wild  exultation,  half  by  design,  begins  to 
pour  forth  more  and  more  extravagant  reproaches  on  his 
kind.  He  must  not  commit  himself  to  his  love,  nor  unbosom 
his  hate,  nor  has  he  a  moment's  pause  in  which  to  set  in  order 
a  continued  display  of  random  lunacy.  As  usual,  passion  and 
preconceived  gloomy  broodings  abundantly  supply  him  with 
declamation  which  may  indicate  a  deep  meaning,  or  be  mere 
madness,  according  to  the  ears  that  hear  it ;  while  through  all 


220 


1877]         PREFACE  TO  "RICHARD  III."  221 

his  bitter  ravings  there  is  visible  the  anguish  of  a  lover  forced 
to  be  cruel,  and  of  a  destined  avenger  almost  beside  himself 
with  the  horrors  of  his  provocation  and  his  task.  The  shafts 
fly  wildly,  and  are  tipped  with  cynic  poison ;  the  bow  from 
which  they  are  sped  is  a  strong  and  constant,  though  anxious 
nature,  steadily,  though  with  infinite  excitement,  bent  upon 
the  one  great  purpose  fate  has  imposed  upon  it.  The  fitful 
excesses  of  his  closing  speech  are  the  twangings  of  the  bow 
from  which  the  arrow  of  avenging  destiny  shall  one  day  fly 
straight  to  the  mark." 

Another  interesting  event  in  connection  with  this  period 
was  the  issue  of  an  acting  edition  of  "  Richard  III.,"  a  small 
volume  of  ninety-three  pages,  some  six  inches  high  and  less 
than  four  wide.  It' bears  the  imprint  of  a  City  firm — E.  S. 
Boot,  38  Gracechurch  Street.  It  has  a  brief  Preface,  signed 
Henry  Irving,  as  follows  :  "In  the  task  of  arranging  Shake- 
speare's '  King  Richard  1 1 1. 'for  stage  representation — which  it 
has  been  thought  desirable  to  place  before  the  public  in  book 
form — I  have  been  actuated  by  an  earnest  wish  to  rescue 
from  the  limbo  of  'plays  for  the  closet — not  for  the  stage,'  a 
tragedy,  which,  in  my  humble  opinion,  possesses  a  variety  of 
action,  and  a  unity  of  construction,  which  readily  account  for 
its  great  popularity  in  the  days  of  the  author. 

"The  task  of  a  succeeding  generation  overlaid  it  with 
ornament  as  antagonistic  to  the  fashions  of  our  own  day  as  the 
hair  powder  and  knee-breeches  which  were  then  indispensable 
to  the  recognised  tragic  dress.  But  while  fashions  change,  truth 
remains  unalterable,  and  the  words  of  Shakespeare  now  speak 
to  the  human  soul  of  human  passions  as  clearly  as  when  they 
were  written,  and  require  no  interpolations  to  convey  their 
lesson  to  succeeding  generations. 

"  Of  the  favour  with  which  this  version  of '  Richard  III.'  has 
been  received  it  is  not  for  me  to  speak.  I  trust,  however,  it 
is  not  egotism  that  induces  me  to  add,  that  the  crowning 
satisfaction  to  me  of  this  revival,  has  been  the  thought  that, 
by  this  successful  restoration  of  the  text  of  Shakespeare  to  the 
London  stage,  I  have  been  able  to  lay  a  laurel  spray  on  the 


222     THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xiv. 

grave  of  my  honoured  and  regretted  friend,  the  late  manager 
of  the  Lyceum  Theatre. 
"Feb.  1877. 

"  HENRY  IRVING." 

The  little  book  is  exceedingly  scarce,  and  is  known  to  very 
few  people,  even  among  the  collectors  of  Irvingiana.  Richard 
had  some  personal  associations  of  a  gratifying  kind  for  the 
actor.  On  the  first  night  of  the  revival,  he  was  presented  with 
the  sword  which  had  been  used  by  Edmund  Kean  in  the  same 
character.  This  was  given  to  him  by  William  Henry 
Chippendale,  who  had  acted  with  Kean  and  had  been  as- 
sociated with  the  Haymarket  Theatre  for  a  long  period.  He 
was  a  celebrated  impersonator  of  old  men,  and,  in  the  character 
of  Polonius,  he  had  played  with  Irving  at  the  Lyceum  in  1874- 
75.  Born  in  1801,  he  lived  until  1888,  thus  enjoying  the  usual 
long  life  of  the  actor.  Another  relic  of  Kean — the  Order  of 
St.  George,  which  had  been  worn  by  him- — was  also  given  to 
Irving  in  commemoration  of  his  impersonation  of  Richard. 
Not  long  before,  he  had  been  presented,  by  the  Baroness 
Burdett-Coutts,  with  a  ring  worn  by  David  Garrick,  who 
bequeathed  it  to  his  butler.  It  passed,  in  the  course  of  time, 
into  the  possession,  in  1865,  of  Miss  Burdett-Coutts,  as  she 
then  was,  and  she  gave  it,  in  July,  1876,  to  Henry  Irving, 
"in  recognition  of  the  gratification  derived  from  his  Shake- 
spearean representations  ". 

One  of  Irving's  most  cherished  associations  with  "  Richard 
III."  lay  in  the  fact  that  on  the  date  of  the  production,  2Qth 
January,  1877,  tne  Lyceum  forces  were  strengthened  by  the 
addition  of  Mr.  Henry  J.  Loveday  who,  on  that  night,  went 
in  front  of  the  house  and  made  notes  on  the  performance  for 
the  friend  of  his  youthful  days.  When  Irving  was  in  Edin- 
burgh in  1858-1859,  his  future  stage-manager  was  the  chief 
violin  player  in  the  orchestra  of  the  theatre,  and,  on  the  night 
that  Irving  took  his  farewell  benefit,  as  Claude  Melnotte, 
his  "chum" — for  the  actor  and  the  musician  were  great 
friends — occupied  the  conductor's  seat.  They  were  friends 


1 877]  "THE  LYONS  MAIL"  223 

for  nearly  half  a  century,   and  business  associates  for  over 
twenty-eight  years. 

After  playing  Richard  for  three  months,  Irving  left  the 
higher  walks  of  the  stage  for  a  time.  This,  of  course,  was  a 
great  opportunity  for  his  opponents,  one  of  whom  thought  "  his 
return  to  melodrama  one  of  the  best  pieces  of  taste  he  has  yet 
shown  ".  Still,  even  melodrama  has  its  good  points,  and  there 
are  many  thousands  of  playgoers  alive  to-day  who  bear  testi- 
mony to  the  beauty  of  Irving's  acting  as  the  innocent  Lesurques, 
a  performance  of  so  fine  a  nature  that,  despite  the  devilry  of 
his  Dubosc,  it  left  the  stronger  impression.  The  play  in 
which  these  two  characters  are  introduced  is,  as  most  people 
are  aware,  founded  on  fact.  In  1796,  an  innocent  man, 
Joseph  Lesurques,  was  condemned  to  the  guillotine  for  a 
murder  committed  by  a  notorious  captain  of  a  band  of  robbers, 
Dubosc,  whom  he  had  the  misfortune  to  resemble  in  ap- 
pearance. The  truth  came  to  light  too  late  for  a  reprieve,  and 
the  unhappy  man  was  executed.  Four  years  after  this  de- 
plorable miscarriage  of  justice,  the  real  criminal  was  discovered 
and  guillotined.  There  is  still  to  be  seen  in  the  cemetery  of 
Pere  la  Chaise  a  simple  white  marble  monument  bearing  this 
pathetic  epitaph  :  "  A  la  me" moire  de  Joseph  Lesurques,  vic- 
time  de  la  plus  deplorable  des  erreurs  humains,  31  Octobre, 
1796.  Sa  veuve  et  ses  enfants,  martyrs  tous  deux  sur  la 
terre,  tous  deux  sont  reunis  au  ciel."  The  remarkable  trial 
furnished  the  groundwork  of  "  Le  Courier  de  Lyons,"  a  drama 
by  MM.  Moreau,  Siraudin,  and  Delacour,  first  represented  at 
the  Theatre  de  la  Gaite",  Paris,  on  i6th  March,  1850,  with 
M.  Lacressoniere  in  the  dual  role  of  Lesurques  and  Dubosc. 
The  dramatists  had  the  express  sanction  of  the  descendants 
and  heirs  of  Joseph  Lesurques  for  the  use  of  that  unhappy 
man's  name.  The  drama  was  soon  transplanted  to  England. 
On  loth  March,  1851,  it  was  acted  at  the  Standard  Theatre, 
and  on  26th  June,  1854,  it  was  represented  at  the  Princess's 
Theatre,  with  Charles  Kean  in  the  double  character  Charles 
Reade's  adaptation — as  arranged  for  the  Princess's — was  used 
for  the  revival  of  the  drama  at  the  Lyceum.  The  title  used 


224     THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xiv. 


at  the  Lyceum  was  given  to  the  piece  by  Mr.  J.  W.  Clark, 
of  the  Cambridge  A.D.C. 

"The  Lyons  Mail"  depends  very  largely  for  its  success 
on  the  special  ability  of  the  impersonator  of  Lesurques  and 
Dubosc.  But  it  is  one  of  those  plays  which  must  be  acted 
well  by  all  concerned  in  its  production.  Irving  had  the  good 
support  when  he  first  appeared  in  it — so  far  as  the  father, 
Jerome  Lesurques,  was  concerned — of  that  fine  old  actor, 


THE  LYONS  MAIL. 
First  acted  at  the  Lyceum,  igth  May,  1877. 


JOSEPH  LESURQUES    - 
DUBOSC      - 
JEROME  LESURQUES  - 
DIDIER        - 

JOLIQUET     - 
M.  DORVAL 

LAMBERT    - 

GUERNEAU 

POSTMASTER  AT  MONTGERON 

Coco  - 

GAR£ON  AT  CAFE" 

GUARD       .... 

POSTILLION        ... 

COURRIOL  - 

CHOPPARD  - 

FOUINARD  - 

DUROCHAT 

JULIE 
JEANNETTE 


Mr.  HENRY  IRVING. 
Mr.  HENRY  IRVING. 
Mr.  T.  MEAD. 
Mr.  E.  H.  BROOKE. 
Miss  LYDIA  HOWARD. 
Mr.  F.  TYARS. 
Mr.  LOUTHER. 
Mr.  GLYNDON. 

Mr.  COLLETT. 

Mr.  BRANSCOMBE. 

Mr.  TAPPING. 

Mr.  HARWOOD. 

Mr.  ALLEN. 

Mr.  R.  C.  LYONS. 

Mr.  HUNTLEY. 

Mr.  J.  ARCHER. 

Mr.  HELPS. 

Miss  VIRGINIA  FRANCIS. 

Miss  ISABEL  BATEMAN. 


ACT  I.,  SCENE  i.  Room  in  the  Cafe",  17  Rue  de  Lac,  Paris; 
SCENE  2.  Exterior  of  the  Inn  at  Lieursaint,  on  the  Lyons 
Road.  ACT  II.,  SCENE.  Salon  in  the  House  of  M.  Lesurques. 
ACT  III.,  SCENE  i.  Panelled  Chamber  overlooking  the  Garden 
in  M.  Lesurques'  House;  SCENE  2.  The  Prison;  SCENE  3. 
First  Floor  of  a  Cabaret,  overlooking  the  Place  of  Execution. 


Thomas  Mead.  And  Miss  Isabel  Bateman  made  much  of 
the  small  part  of  Jeannette.  But,  for  the  rest,  there  was  much 
to  deplore.  The  representatives  of  the  boy,  Joliquet,  and 
the  fop,  Courriol,  were  particularly  out  of  place,  if  one  may 
judge  by  some  of  the  condemnation  of  the  moment.  ''All 
notion  of  youth,  innocence,  frankness,  and  fear  disappeared  in 
the  mincing  mannerisms  and  conscious  assertiveness  of  the 
former,"  while  the  Courriol  was  set  down  as  being  "ill  at 
ease,  a  modern  Osric,  with  the  most  stagey  veneer  ".  Clement 
Scott,  who  made  these  remarks,  also  observed  :  "  It  is  strange, 


1877]  AN  IRATE  GALLERY  225 

that  when  so  many  actors  could  so  successfully  perfect  such 
small  characters  as  these,  a  blot  should  have  been  unneces- 
sarily made  on  a  play  demanding  good  acting  all  round.  It 
will  not  do,  in  these  days,  to  neglect  the  care  due  to  the 
smallest  parts,  and,  if  it  were  worth  the  while  to  do  so,  fault 
could  be  found  with  many  of  the  minor  characters."  There 
were  other  troubles  on  the  first  night  to  add  to  the  anxieties  of 
the  chief  actor.  Some  one  had  thought  it  wise  to  do  away 
with  the  customary  farce  which  eked  out  a  short  programme, 
the  result  being  that  the  performance  ended  at  the  unusual  hour 
often  o'clock.  This  was  too  much — or  rather  not  enough ! — for 
the  occupants  of  the  pit  and  gallery,  and  Irving  had  to  do  his 
best  to  pacify  the  irate  members.  "Calls  were  made  for 
Mr.  Reade,  calls  were  made  for  Mr.  Irving,  appeals  were 
made  for  a  speech,  and,  at  one  time,  there  seemed  a  likelihood 
of  a  debate  on  the  relative  value  of  farces  persistently  put  up 
at  the  Lyceum.  But  Mr.  Irving,  with  commendable  diplo- 
macy, elected  to  refer  the  matter  to  the  management."  And 
the  press  advised  Mrs.  Bateman  that  the  prices  charged  for 
admission  were  such  that  an  entertainment  of  greater  length 
was  required.  These  prices,  it  may  be  noted,  were  somewhat 
less  than  those  which  now  prevail :  dress  circle,  55.  ;  upper 
circle,  33.  ;  pit,  2s.  ;  gallery,  is.  The  stalls  which,  in  the  pre- 
vious year,  were  73.,  had  now  been  raised  to  IDS. 

Despite  the  trials  of  the  first  night,  "The  Lyons  Mail" 
made  a  great  hit,  and  it  ran  until  the  end  of  the  season,  filling 
not  only  the  pit  and  gallery,  but  the  better  parts  of  the  house. 
This  result,  of  course,  was  due  to  the  acting  of  Henry  Irving. 
It  is  a  wonderful  proof  of  his  popularity  in  this  piece  that  he 
retained  the  play  in  his  repertoire  until  the  end  of  his  career 
—over  twenty-eight  years — and,  a  fact  still  more  remarkable, 
his  acting  in  it,  far  from  being  dulled  by  repetition,  developed 
into  one  of  his  finest  achievements.  Frequently  as  the  play 
was  revived  at  the  Lyceum — not  to  mention  the  numberless 
performances  by  Irving  throughout  the  United  Kingdom  and 
in  America  and  Canada — there  was  advancement,  never  re- 
trogression, in  the  portrayal  of  the  two  characters.  The 
VOL.  i.  15 


226     THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xiv. 

curious  physical  resemblance  between  Lesurques  and  Dubosc 
counted  for  much  in  the  popular  view,  but  the  rendering  of 


these  characters — the  middle-aged,  refined,  affectionate  son 
and  father,  and  the  bullying,  brutal  drunkard — gave  Irving  an 
opportunity  for  contrast  which  resulted  in  two  most  fascinating 


i8;7]  A  READING  IN  DUBLIN  227 

portraits.  To  think  of  Irving  as  Lesurques — as  thousands  of 
playgoers  still  remember  him — is ,  to  recall  a  splendid  picture 
of  innocence,  paternal  love,  and  dignity.  And  the  terrible 
ferocity  of  the  last  act — when  Dubosc,  maddened  with  brandy 
and  lust  for  the  blood  of  his  victim,  watches  the  approach  of 
Lesurques  to  the  scaffold — is  remembered  as  a  picture  of  ap- 
palling ferocity.  In  France,  it  may  be  noted,  the  play  was 
provided  with  two  endings,  the  innocent  Lesurques  being 
duly  executed  one  night,  while,  on  the  other,  a  reprieve 
arrived  and  Dubosc  was  arrested.  The  latter  conclusion  was 
adopted  in  the  English  version. 

During  the  first  run  of  "  The  Lyons  Mail "  at  the  Lyceum, 
Irving  visited  Dublin  and  gave  a  reading  from  Shakespeare 
and  Dickens.  It  was  the  intention  of  Mrs.  Bateman  to  end 
the  season  on  i6th  June,  and  Irving,  accordingly,  had  made 
a  promise  to  give  his  readings  in  Dublin  on  the  following 
Monday,  the  i8th.  But  the  success  of  "The  Lyons  Mail" 
was  so  great  that  it  was  desirable  to  extend  the  run  of  that 
play.  Irving,  however,  kept  his  engagement  in  Dublin,  a 
good  deal  of  extra  hard  work  being  imposed  upon  him  in  con- 
sequence. In  order  to  keep  faith  with  his  friends  and  fulfil  a 
promise  which  he  had  made,  as  the  outcome  of  good  nature, 
six  months  previously,  he  left  London  at  midnight  on  the 
Saturday,  after  his  performance  of  Lesurques  and  Dubosc. 
He  was  accompanied  by  the  stage-manager  of  the  Lyceum, 
Mr.  H.  J.  Loveday,  and  his  devoted  friend,  Frank  Marshall. 
The  reading  took  place,  on  the  Monday  afternoon,  in  the 
Examination  Hall  of  Trinity  College,  in  the  presence  of  the 
Provost,  the  Dean,  and  a  large  number  of  students.  It 
consisted  of  the  third  scene  of  the  third  act  of  "  Othello,"  the 
opening  scene  of  "Richard  III.,"  the  scene  between  David 
Copperfield  and  the  waiter,  and  "The  Dream  of  Eugene 
Aram."  He  was  subsequently  entertained  to  dinner  at  the 
Fellows'  Table  in  the  College,  and  he  left,  on  his  return  to 
London,  on  the  same  evening.  Some  other  incidents  belong- 
ing to  the  first  six  months  of  1877  should  be  noted.  For 
instance,  it  being  the  custom  to  close  the  London  theatres  on 

i5* 


228     THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xiv. 

Ash  Wednesday,  Irving  gave,  in  February  of  this  year,  a 
reading  from "  Macbeth"  in  the  Birmingham  Town  Hall,  for 
the  benefit  of  the  building  fund  of  the  Perry  Bar  Institute. 
In  March,  he  recited  "  The  Uncle"  at  a  benefit  for  an  old  actor, 
Henry  Compton,  at  Drury  Lane.  In  April,  he  received  an 
offer  of  one  hundred  pounds  a  night  and  a  percentage  of  the 
profits  to  play  in  America.  In  May,  his  portrait  by  Whistler, 
which  has  since  become  celebrated,  was  exhibited  at  the 
Grosvenor  Gallery.  His  impersonation  of  Richard  III. 
formed  the  subject  of  still  another  painting,  by  Edwin  Long ; 
and,  in  July,  the  Prince  and  Princess  of  Wales  saw  "The 
Lyons  Mail "  at  the  Lyceum,  and  said  that  Irving's  perfor- 
mance was  "one  of  the  best  pieces  of  acting  that  they  had 
ever  witnessed". 

"  Hamlet"  was  given  on  the  last  night  of  the  season,  3ist 
July.  There  was  little  rest  for  the  actor,  inasmuch  as,  in 
August,  he  gave  a  reading,  which  included  scenes  from 
"  Hamlet,"  and  "  Richard  III.,"  at  Southampton,  in  aid  of  the 
restoration  fund  of  St.  Michael's  Church.  In  Portsmouth,  he 
began  a  long  provincial  tour,  his  chief  plays  being  "  Ham- 
let," "Richard  III.,"  and  "The  Lyons  Mail".  He  acted  in 
Liverpool,  Preston,  Sheffield,  Bradford,  Newcastle,  Glasgow, 
Dundee,  Edinburgh,  Greenock,  Belfast,  Dublin,  Birmingham, 
and  Brighton.  Although  his  Richard  met  with  a  severe 
reception  in  Manchester — for  long  the  stronghold  of  Barry 
Sullivan,  especially  in  that  character — the  tour  was  a 
triumph.  It  had  only  one  real  note  of  unpleasantness — one 
that  can  be  viewed  calmly  now,  although  it  was  injurious  at 
the  time.  Now  that  the  years  have  rolled  away,  it  does  not 
matter,  and  it  is  only  mentioned  here  as  part  of  the  story  of 
continuous  struggle  in  certain  directions  which  was  the  actor's 
lot  for  so  many  years.  He  had  achieved  great  things,  and 
he  was  generally  recognised  as  the  upholder  of  all  that  was 
best  on  the  stage.  His  popularity,  among  all  classes,  was 
unbounded,  in  the  provinces,  as  well  as  in  London,  and  his 
fame  was  world- wide.  But  he  was  subject  to  more  petty 
annoyance  in  the  way  of  cruel  caricature  by  pen  and  pencil, 


1877]  "THE  FASHIONABLE  TRAGEDIAN"     229 

in  pictures  and  in  printed  matter,  than  any  other  actor  who 
has   ever   lived.       He  had  patience  and  he  endured,    until 
at  last  he  attained  a  position  in  public  estimation  which  was 
absolutely  unassailable.     Even  with  his  death,   the   attacks 
upon  his  acting  did  not  cease.      He  despised  the  majority  of 
the  small-minded  people  who  could  not  see  his  point  of  view 
because  it  was  not  their  own,  and  he  treated  the  writers  with 
the  contempt  which  they  deserved.      He  respected  criticism 
which  was  sincere  and  decorous.      But  he  held  in  derision 
anything   that    was    either   cruel    in    intention   or   in    effect. 
When   it   touched   his  honour   as   a   man — as  in   the   Fun 
libel — he  took  action.     When  his  acting  was  the  only  con- 
cern, he  could  afford  to  let  time  settle  the   account.     For 
instance,  the  pamphlet   which    was   industriously    circulated 
when  he  was  touring  the  country  in  1877,  only  assailed  his 
acting,  and,  for  this  reason,  his  hands  were  tied.      But  if  such 
an  effusion  were  perpetrated  in  the  present    time — granted 
that  a  publisher  could  be  found  to  take  the  risk  of  issuing  it 
—the  object  of  its  attack  would,  in  all  probability,  seek  the 
protection  of  the   law.      Irving  was  an   exceptionally    busy 
man  in  1877,  his  success  was  assured,  and  he  had  to  keep  his 
mind  steadily  fixed  upon  his  work  in,  and  for,  the  theatre. 
So  he  allowed  "  The  Fashionable  Tragedian  "  to  pass.     There 
was  offence  even  in  the  title,  for  it  recalled  the  libel  of  two 
years  previously.      It   was  issued    anonymously,  in  a  brown 
paper  cover,  with  a  cruel   caricature   of  Irving  as  Mathias 
outside.     It  was  called  ua  criticism,  with  ten  illustrations". 
Its  "criticism"  was  simply  an   onslaught  upon    Irving    the 
actor,  and  its  illustrations  were  caricatures  which  were  all  the 
more  hurtful  because   they  were  so   ingenious.     Some   six 
years  later,  one  of  the  authors,    Mr.    William    Archer,    re- 
canted— in  part — for  some  of  his  remarks  in  this  brochure ; 
his   co-author   was   the    late    Robert   William    Lowe,    sub- 
sequently a  great  student  of  English  dramatic  literature,  an 
authority  on  the  history  of  the  stage,  and,  personally,  a  kind 
and  delightful   companion.     The  young    men — Mr.    Archer 
was  only   twenty-one — meant  no  harm,   but  such    skits    as 


23o      THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xiv. 

this  have  power  to  wound  and  should  not  be  indulged  in 
lightly. 

Irving's  great  offence,  in  the  eyes  of  these  young  writers, 
seems  to  have  lain  in  the  fact  that  he  was  not  "a  heaven- 
born  actor  like  Salvini,"  and  that  he  did  not  slavishly  follow 
tradition.  After  an  attempt  to  explain  his  great  position 
with  the  public,  they  indulged  in  a  long  essay  in  extenua- 
tion of  their  argument,  which  was  "  merely  to  prove  that  he 
is  a  very  bad  actor  ".  There  is  no  occasion  to  wade  through 
the  diatribe,  but  the  opening  statement  may  be  quoted  as  an 
indication  of  the  abuse- — there  is  no  other  word  for  it — which 
follows  :  "  No  actor  of  this,  or  indeed  of  any  other,  age  has 
been  so  much  and  so  indiscriminately  belauded  as  Mr.  Henry 
Irving.  For  more  than  five  years  he  has  been  the  '  bright 
particular  star'  of  the  British  dramatic  firmament.  Night 
after  night  has  he  filled  the  dingy  old  Lyceum,  from  the  front 
row  of  the  stalls  to  the  back  row  of  the  gallery,  with  audiences 
which  applauded  every  jerk,  every  spasm,  every  hysteric 
scream — we  had  almost  said  every  convulsion — in  which  he 
chose  to  indulge.  In  the  provinces  he  has  met  with  the 
same  success  and  the  same  laudation.  Newspaper  'critics' 
have  ransacked  and  exhausted  their  by  no  means  limited 
vocabulary  in  the  search  for  words  in  which  to  express  his 
greatness.  He  is,  we  are  told,  the  resuscitator  of  the  past 
glories  of  the  British  drama,  with  the  addition  of  new  glories 
peculiarly  his  own.  He  is  the  'interpreter  of  Shakespeare  to 
the  multitude,'  the  apostle  of  popular  dramatic  culture. 
Criticism  has  not  been  entirely  silent,  it  is  true,  but  its  voice 
has  been  drowned  in  the  plaudits  of  enthusiasm.  Men  of 
science,  men  of  learning,  poets,  philosophers,  vie  with  each 
other  in  singing  his  praises.  Bishops  eulogise  him  in  after- 
dinner  speeches  ;  statesmen  *  tap  him  on  the  shoulder  while 
walking  down  Bond  Street,'  and  introduce  themselves  to  him 
with  expressions  of  enthusiastic  admiration  ;  peeresses  engage 
the  stage-box  night  after  night  to  gaze  at  his  contortions'." 
It  is  a  curious  thought  that  Irving  could  have  been  described 
as  "  one  of  the  worst  actors  that  ever  trod  the  British  stage" 
in  so-called  "leading  characters"  by  these  impetuous  youths. 


1877]  SCURRILOUS  ABUSE  231 

It  seems  incredible  that  they  could  have  written  of  him  as 
possessing,  among  other  disqualifications  for  the  stage,  "a 
face  whose  range  of  expression  is  very  limited".  Many 
people,  even  then,  must  have  been  surprised  to  learn  that 
"abject  terror,  sarcasm,  and  frenzy  are  the  only  passions 
which  Mr.  Irving's  features  can  adequately  express  ".  Again, 
"his  figure  utterly  precludes  the  possibility  of  dignity,  grace, 
or  even  ease :  some  of  his  most  effective  attitudes  might  well 
be  taken  for  a  representation  of  the  last  stage  of  Asiatic 
cholera — total  collapse  ".  As  for  the  great  scene  with  Ophelia, 
these  superior  young  gentlemen  could  not  find  any  merit  in 
it.  "  We  should  be  inclined  to  apply  to  it  a  shorter  and  uglier 
term"  —than  their  own,  "psychologically  subtle"  -"and 
call  it  vulgar."  There  was  much  more  of  the  same  sort  of 
"criticism,"  and  although  the  pamphlet  was  directed  against 
Irving,  the  captious  critics  forgot  that  Miss  Bateman  was  a 
woman  and  an  artist,  and  thus  dismissed  her  Lady  Macbeth  : 
"  If  the  actual  Lady  Macbeth  was  in  any  way  like  Miss 
Bateman's  representation  of  her,  one  cannot  wonder  that 
her  unhappy  husband  was  driven  to  the  most  horrible  of 
crimes,  only  that  suicide  would  certainly  have  been  his  first 
idea".  They  described  Irving's  Hamlet  as  "a  weak-minded 
puppy,"  his  Macbeth  as  "a  Uriah  Heep  in  chain  armour," 
his  Othello  as  an  "infuriated  Sepoy,"  and  his  Richard  as  "a 
cheap  Mephistopheles ".  There  is  no  occasion  to  quote 
further  from  an  indiscreet  pamphlet  which,  doubtless,  its 
authors  afterwards  regretted. 

"  The  Fashionable  Tragedian  "  would  have  died  a  natural 
death  but,  in  an  unfortunate  moment,  a  writer  who  called 
himself  Yorick,  rushed  in  with  a  defence  of  the  actor.  He 
issued,  in  a  grey  cover  and  with  a  dignified  portrait  of  the 
distinguished  player,  a  letter  concerning  Mr.  Henry  Irving 
addressed  to  E.  R.  H.1  The  defence  was  not  necessary, 

1  Probably  a  mistake  for  G.  R.  H.,  the  initials  of  Mr.  G.  R.  Halkett, 
who  drew  the  illustrations  to  the  original  pamphlet.  Mr.  Halkett  was  also 
possessed  of  the  irresponsibility  of  youth,  for  he  was  but  twenty-two  years 
of  age.  Mr.  Archer,  who  was  bom  on  23rd  September,  1856,  was  eighteen 
months  his  junior. 


232      THE   LIFE  OE  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xiv. 

and  as  it  was  not  as  clever  as  it  might  have  been,  it  only  drew 
attention  to  the  brochure  by  which  it  had  been  provoked.  As 
a  consequence,  a  second  edition  was  issued  of  "The  Fashion- 
able Tragedian,"  in  a  green  cover  with  a  hideous  new  cari- 
cature of  Irving  as  Richard  III.  The  back  page  of  the  cover 
contained  a  reprint  of  some  of  the  " Opinions  of  the  Press" 
on  the  first  edition.  These,  in  justice  to  the  press  of  this 
country  were,  be  it  said,  not  by  any  means  favourable  to  the 
good  taste  of  the  authors  of  the  disparagement.  There  was 
a  postscript  to  the  second  edition  in  which  the  writers  defended 
their  original  position  and  renewed  their  attack. 

The  pamphlet  was  the  cause  of  a  misrepresentation 
being  made  in  regard  to  an  alleged  statement  by  Irving 
about  the  press  which  necessitated  the  writing  of  the  following 
letter :  it  is  printed  as  published,  and  it  explains  itself : 

"  5th  December,  1877. 

"  My  attention  having  been  called  to  the  report  of  a 
speech  alleged  to  have  been  spoken  by  me  at  a  public  dinner 
in  Edinburgh,  in  which  newspaper  reporters  and  critics  in 
general  are  alluded  to  in  insulting  terms,  I  desire  to  have  an 
opportunity  of  putting  myself  right  with  you  and  the  members 
of  your  staff. 

"The  dinner  referred  to,  at  which  I  was  present,  was  an 
entirely  private  one,  to  which  I  had  the  privilege  of  inviting 
any  guest  I  chose.  On  that  occasion,  the  conversation  turned 
on  a  scurrilous  pamphlet  which  had  preceded  me  in  Glasgow, 
Dundee,  and  Edinburgh,  where  it  was  published,  and  which 
pamphlet,  I  was  then  informed,  had  been  written  by  four 
Edinburgh  reporters. 

"After  dinner,  my  health  was  proposed,  and  in  a  jocose 
manner  the  way  I  had  been  treated  by  a  certain  few  members 
of  the  Press  was  alluded  to.  In  my  reply,  having  this 
pamphlet  and  its  authors  exclusively  in  my  mind,  I  said,  in  a 
bantering  sort  of  way,  that  it  was  useless  to  consider  every- 
thing that  was  written  about  one,  as  a  dramatic  critic  was  a 
man  who  required  training,  experience,  and  culture,  so  that 


1877]  UNFAIR  TREATMENT  233 

his  point  would  carry  weight ;  that  in  every  profession  there 
were  black  sheep  ;  and  (still  thinking  of  this  pamphlet)  I  said 
that  dramatic  notices  were  sometimes  written  by  such  people  ; 
and  I  estimated  their  statements  by  the  lowest  sums  earned 
in  their  calling. 

"  I  further  said  in  the  same  vein — which  the  entire 
company,  principally  composed  of  literary  and  artistic  men, 
thoroughly  understood — that  'of  course  I  never  read  the 
papers,'  *  of  course  I  never  did  this  and  never  did  that,'  with 
many  other  frivolous  things  too  ridiculous  to  mention,  the 
tone,  manner,  and  meaning  being  perfectly  intelligible  to  any 
mind  except  the  dullest. 

"  So  greatly  did  I  feel  my  obligations  to  the  Press  that  on 
the  occasion  alluded  to,  I  turned  to  a  gentleman  who  was 
invited  to  this  dinner  at  my  express  desire,  and  thanked  him 
for  the  kindly  and  able  manner  in  which  (as  I  thought  and 
had  been  told)  he  had  criticised  me  in  a  daily  paper,  with 
which  he  was  connected.  This  gentleman  replied  that  the 
dramatic  criticisms  had  not  been  written  by  him,  but  by  one 
of  his  confreres,  whereupon  I  begged  him  to  express  my 
thanks  to  the  writer  of  those  criticisms.  I  then  invited  him, 
along  with  my  other  friends  at  the  table,  to  supper  during 
the  following  week.  He  replied  that,  if  able,  he  would  gladly 
come,  cordially  shook  hands,  and  expressed  his  pleasure  at 
our  meeting. 

"  I  should  also  say  that  *  The  Press '  was  proposed,  and 
replied  for  in  grateful  terms  by  this  gentleman. 

"  Judge  of  my  amazement,  when,  on  the  following  morning, 
I  read  in  the  newspaper  with  which  this  gentleman  was  con- 
nected, a  serious,  lengthy,  and  inaccurate  report  of  a  few 
jesting  words  I  had  said  at  this  perfectly  private  dinner,  and 
in  that  report  no  allusion  whatever  there  made  to  the  circum- 
stances in  which  certain  words  had  been  said. 

1  These,  sir,  are  the  simple  facts  of  the  case,  and  I  leave 
it  to  you  and  every  member  of  the  profession  I  so  highly 
esteem  to  say  whether  the  treatment  I  received  was  justifiable. 

"In  nearly  every  city  I  have  visited,  I  have  been  treated 


234      THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xrv. 

by  the  Press  with  the  greatest  consideration,  kindness,  and 
courtesy,  and  many  of  its  members  I  number  amongst  my 
personal  friends. 

"  I  am,  dear  Sir, 

"  Yours  obediently, 

"  HENRY  IRVING." 

In  this  year,  1877,  Henry  Irving  was  initiated  into  free- 
masonry in  the  Jerusalem  Lodge,  by  the  Master,  the  late 
Sir  William  George  Cusins.  This  lodge,  which  is  one  of 
the  few  "red  apron"  lodges,  has  always  prided  itself  upon 
having  men  of  distinction  among  its  members.  It  was  the 
first  lodge  in  England  to  entertain  His  Majesty,  then 
Prince  of  Wales,  after  his  initiation  into  the  Order,  and  he 
remained  an  honorary  member  of  it  until  his  accession  to  the 
throne.  Irving  took  his  second  and  third  degrees  in  1882, 
when  both  degrees  were  conferred  upon  him  by  the  present 
Grand  Secretary  of  Freemasons,  Sir  Edward  Letchworth, 
who,  at  the  time,  was  Master  of  the  lodge — the  ceremony 
of  "  passing  "  was  rendered  notable  by  the  presence  of  the 
Duke  of  Albany.  Among  the  members  of  the  Jerusalem 
Lodge  who  were  co-temporaries  of  Irving  were  the  late  Earl 
of  Fife,  Sir  C.  Hutton  Gregory,  Sir  John  Monckton,  Sir 
Horace  Jones,  Sir  G.  Findlay,  Sir  W.  Allport,  Sir  Henry 
Oakley,  Sir  Miles  Fenton,  Sir  Frederick  Harrison,  the  Ven. 
Archdeacon  Sinclair,  Charles  Barry,  the  architect,  and  Phil 
Morris,  A.R.A.  In  February,  1887,  Irving  was  one  of  the 
founders  of  the  Savage  Club  Lodge,  of  which  he  remained 
a  member  until  his  death.  He  was  the  first  treasurer  of  the 
Savage  Club  Lodge,  but  his  time  was  so  occupied  with  his 
other  duties  that  he  had  to  resign  the  office  in  December  of 
the  first  year,  when  he  was  succeeded  by  Mr.  Edward  Terry. 
In  1893,  he  joined  the  St.  Martin's  Lodge,  of  which  he  was 
a  member  for  eleven  years.  He  was  a  liberal  supporter 
of  the  masonic  charities. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

1878. 

Irving  acts  Louis  XL  for  the  first  time — Charles  Kean  in  the  character 
— Irving's  complete  success — Indifferent  support — Farces  still  popular — 
"  Vanderdecken  "  produced — A  personal  success — "  The  Bells  "  and  Jingle 
again — Unsatisfactory  conditions — Mrs.  Bateman  resigns — Her  tribute  to 
Irving — Contributions  to  the  Nineteenth  Century — Delivers  an  address 
at  the  Perry  Bar  Institute — Lays  the  foundation  stone  of  Harborne  and 
Edgbaston  Institution — Gives  a  reading  at  Northampton — Presented  with 
addresses — Reads  and  recites  at  Belfast  in  aid  of  a  charity. 

IRVING  re-opened  in  London  on  Tuesday,  26th  December, 
1877,  m  "The  Lyons  Mail".  The  old  -fashioned  farce  was 
still  in  the  ascendant,  for  "  Just  My  Luck"  " played  the  people 
in  "  to  the  melodrama  and  "  Diamond  Cut  Diamond  "  saw  them 
out.  Irving's  impersonations  of  Lesurques  and  Dubosc, 
Mathias,  and  Charles  the  First  crowded  the  Lyceum  for  the 
next  few  weeks.  While  he  was  thus  engaged,  he  was  also 
studying  a  character  his  rendering  of  which  subsequently  be- 
came famous.  On  Saturday,  gth  March,  he  acted  Louis  XL, 
with  such  complete  success  that  his  enemies  were  silenced, 
even  though  they  had,  as  in  the  case  of  Richard  III.,  to 
qualify  their  praise  by  the  remark  that  the  actor's  man- 
nerisms suited  the  part!  In  the  course  of  time,  Irving's 
impersonation  of  this  character  improved  marvellously  and 
became  masterly.  Even  at  first,  it  was  a  performance  which 
broke  down  the  strongest  barriers  of  opposition  and  com- 
manded respect  for  its  supreme  skill.  He  carried  the  play  to 
success  on  his  own  shoulders,  as  he  was  but  indifferently 
supported  by  Mrs.  Bateman's  company,  and  the  drama,  as 
many  modern  playgoers  are  aware,  is  by  no  means  a  work  of 
a  high  class.  Casimir  Delavigne  had  not  the  gift  of  original- 
ity. In  "  Marino  Faliero,"  he  borrowed  from  Lord  Byron,  and 

235 


236       THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xv. 


his  "  Louis  XL  "  was  indebted  to  "  Quentin  Durward  "  — long  a 
popular  novel  in  France.  He  imitated  Shakespeare  in  "  Les 
Enfants  d'Edouard,"  Kotzebue  in  "  L'Ecole  des  Vielliards," 
and  Victor  Hugo  in  "  La  Fille  du  Cid".  His  "  Louis  XI.  " 
was  given  for  the  first  time  at  the  Theatre  Francois  on  1 1  th 
February,  1832,  with  Ligier — an  actor  of  considerable  note 
in  his  day — in  the  title-role.  The  first  act,  a  species  of  pro- 
logue, in  which  Louis  does  not  appear,  might  be  omitted 
from  representation  without  any  detriment  to  the  play.  Nor 


LOUIS  XI. 

First  acted  at  the  Lyceum,  gth  March,  1878. 


Louis  XI. 

DUKE  DE  NEMOURS  - 
THE  DAUPHIN  - 
CARDINAL  D'ALBY    - 
PHILIP  DE  COMMINES 
COUNT  DE  DREUX     - 
JACQUES  COITIER 
TRISTAN  L'ERMITE   - 
OLIVER  LE  DAIN 
FRANCOIS  DE  PAULE 

MONSEIGNEUR  DE  LUDE 

THE  COUNT  DE  DUNOIS 
MARCEL  - 
RICHARD  - 

DIDIER 

OFFICER  OF  THE  ROYAL  GUARD 
MONTJOIE         - 

TOISON  D'OR    -        -        -        - 
KING'S  ATTENDANTS 

MARIE 

JEANNE  - 
MARTHA  - 


Mr.  HENRY  IRVING. 

Mr.  F.  TYARS. 

Mr.  ANDREWS. 

Mr.  COLLETT. 

Mr.  F.  CLEMENTS. 

Mr.  PARKER. 

Mr.  J.  FERNANDEZ. 

Mr.  W.  BENTLEY. 

Mr.  J.  ARCHER. 

Mr.  T.  MEAD. 

Mr.  HOLLAND. 

Mr.  LANETON. 

Mr.  E.  LYONS. 

Mr.  SMITH. 

Mr.  BRANSCOMBE. 

Mr.  HARWOOD. 

Mr.  CARTWRIGHT. 

Mr.  TAPPING. 

Messrs.  EDWARDES  and  SIMPSON 

Miss  VIRGINIA  FRANCIS. 

Mrs.  ST.  JOHN. 

Mrs.  CHIPPENDALE. 


ACT  I.  Exterior  of  the  Castle,  Plessis  lies  Tours.  ACT  II.  Throne 
Room  in  the  Castle.  ACT  III.  A  Forest  Glade.  ACT  IV.  The 
King's  Bedchamber.  ACT  V.  The  Throne  Room. 


is  a  piece  without  a  heroine  one  which  makes  an  appeal  to 
the  average  audience.  Delavigne  went  further  than  his 
model,  for  whereas  Walter  Scott's  Louis  has  some  redeeming 
features,  that  of  the  French  dramatist  is  a  character  of  un- 
deniable villainy,  and,  what  is  worse,  a  very  monotonous  one. 
Irving  realised  this  latter  defect  before  he  acted  the  part  for 
the  first  time,  and  he,  accordingly,  allowed  himself  more 
licence  than,  perhaps,  a  strict  delineator  of  the  author  would 
have  rendered  necessary.  Again,  he  had  to  follow  Charles 


1878]  LOUIS  XL  237 

Kean  in  the  character,  and,  for  this  reason  also,  he  was  com- 
pelled to  be  as  original  as  possible.  Kean  first  represented 
the  character,  at  the  Princess's  Theatre,  on  I3th  January, 
1855,  in  a  version  prepared  by  Dion  Boucicault,  who  con- 
densed the  text  of  the  original,  substituted  blank  verse  for 
flowing  rhyme,  and  consulted  English  prejudice  by  providing 
a  "happy  ending"  with  the  freedom  of  Nemours.  Kean's 
impersonation  was  modelled  upon  that  of  Ligier  and  was 
thought,  by  many  good  judges,  superior  to  the  original.  It 
was  his  most  successful  achievement  as  an  actor,  and  "  was 
remarkable  for  its  intensity  and  concentrated  power,  for  its 
absolute  self-command  not  less  than  for  its  moments  of  sudden 
abandonment  to  the  vehemence  and  passion  of  the  situation. 
In  this  part,  the  actor's  physical  peculiarities,  his  eccentricities 
of  look  and  tone,  gait  and  gesture,  were,  if  not  forgotten,  so 
merged  in  his  performance,  as  to  lend  it  valuable  support  and 
distinction  ". 

Irving  had,  quite  deliberately,  courted  comparison  with 
Charles  Kean  and  the  other  representatives  of  the  part, 
and  he  came  through  the  ordeal  with  flying  colours.  He 
made  Louis  somewhat  older  than  history  warranted — for  the 
King  was  only  sixty  at  the  time  of  his  death — and  he  made 
other  changes,  as  will  be  seen  presently.  He  was  still  criticised, 
but  with  decency,  for  he  had  now  become  a  power  in  the  land, 
and,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  there  was  little  in  his  performance 
with  which  the  most  censorious  critic  could  find  fault.  It 
must  have  caused  the  actor  some  amusement,  as  well  as 
satisfaction,  when  he  found  Button  Cook  becoming — for  him 
—quite  eulogistic,  for  he  was  constrained  to  admit  that  the 
"performance  is  throughout  very  masterly,  even  and  consistent, 
subtle  and  finished.  There  is  no  neglect  of  the  small,  delicate 
touches  which  give  completeness  to  a  picture,  while  the 
stronger  portions  of  the  design  are  executed  with  supreme 
breadth  and  boldness.  Mr.  Irving  boasts  the  great  actor's 
art  or  gift  of  at  once  riveting  the  attention  of  his  audience ; 
presently  his  influence  extends  more  and  more,  until  each 
word  and  glance  and  action  of  this  strange  king  he  represents 


238       THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xv. 

—so  grotesque  of  aspect,  so  cat-like  of  movement,  so  ape-like 
of  gesture,  so  venomous  in  his  spite,  so  demoniac  in  his  rage, 
and  meanwhile  so  vile  and  paltry  and  cringing  a  poltroon- 
are  watched  and  followed  with  a  nervous  absorption  that  has 
something  about  it  of  fascination  or  even  of  terror.  The 
performance  reaches  its  climax  perhaps  in  the  King's  paroxysm 
of  fear  after  Nemours'  assault  upon  him  ;  the  actor's  passionate 
rendering  of  this  scene,  his  panic-stricken  cries  and  moans, 
prayers  and  threats,  and  the  spectacle  of  physical  prostration 
that  ensues,  affecting  the  audience  very  powerfully.  The 
death  of  the  King  is  elaborately  treated,  but  with  no  undue 
straining  after  the  horrible.  Here  the  slipping  of  the  sceptre 
through  the  flaccid,  nerveless  fingers  of  Louis,  the  moment 
after  he  has  announced  himself  'strong  and  capable,'  may  be 
noted  as  an  original  and  ingenious  artifice  on  the  part  of  the 
actor."  Irving  also  compelled  admiration  from  another  luke- 
warm critic,  Joseph  Knight:  " There  was  a  tremendous  dis- 
play of  power  in  the  closing  scenes  of  the  fourth  and  fifth  acts. 
These  acts,  however,  were  comparatively  ineffective"-— in  the 
judgment  of  the  critic,  but  not  in  that  of  the  audience,  be  it 
observed.  "  In  earlier  scenes,  there  were  no  signs  whatever 
of  effort,  and  in  these  the  greatest  and  most  undisputed 
triumph  was  obtained.  There  is  no  need  to  dwell  on  single 
blemishes  or  shortcomings  in  the  case  of  a  performance  like 
this.  It  is  pleasanter  to  admit  frankly  that,  so  far  as  concerns 
the  conception  of  the  character,  especially  on  its  comic  side, 
it  is  worthy  of  warm  praise." 

It  would  be  easy,  but  not  to  the  purpose,  to  quote  columns 
of  enthusiastic  eulogy  of  this  performance.  It  redounds 
greatly  to  the  credit  of  the  impersonator  of  Louis  that  he  won 
his  success  in  spite  of  comparison  and  entirely  on  his  own 
merit.  The  scenic  accessories  were  very  creditable,  but  the 
interpretation  of  the  majority  of  the  minor  characters  was 
sadly  inefficient.  "  Much  of  the  acting  was  wretched,  how- 
ever— so  deficient  in  spirit  and  life  that,  had  the  chief  person 
been  less  powerfully  presented,  the  success  of  the  venture 
would  have  been  compromised."  On  the  other  hand,  the 


1878]          A  SPELL-BOUND  AUDIENCE  239 

stage-management  was  admirable,  and  the  incidental  music, 
under  the  direction  of  Robert  Stoepel — the  musical  conductor 
during  the  Bateman  regime — was  an  important  help.  The  dis- 
tant hymn  in  the  fourth  act,  where  Louis  sits  warming  himself, 
was  an  extremely  effective  moment.  The  death  scene  was 
so  tremendously  impressive  on  the  first  night  that  the  audience 
remained  spell-bound.  It  had  expressed  its  enthusiasm 
with  great  vehemence  up  to  this  point,  and  it  was  not  until 
the  reaction  had  come  that  it  gave  way  to  cheer  upon  cheer 
such  as  was  given  whenever  afterwards — for  over  twenty- 
eight  years — Henry  Irving  acted  Louis.  The  enthusiasm, 
on  the  first  night,  was  such  that  Irving  was  obliged  to 
make  a  speech  of  thanks,  and  he  took  advantage  of  the 
occasion  to  pay  a  gracious  tribute  to  the  widow  of  Charles 
Kean  for  her  kindness  in  allowing  him  the  use  of  Boucicault's 
version  of  the  drama,  and  for  her  assistance,  in  other  directions, 
in  regard  to  the  Lyceum  revival.  One  of  the  most  critical 
notices  of  the  performance  appeared  in  Punch,  which  prophe- 
sied the  enduring  success  of  the  actor  in  the  part  and  praised 
him  highly.  It  also  pointed  out  certain  blemishes,  as  it  con- 
sidered them,  in  his  reading.  One  of  these  faults,  as  it  thought, 
was  the  hypocrisy  which  he  gave  vent  to  when  the  King  was 
saying  the  Angelus.  "  Now  Louis  was  superstitious,  but  he 
was  no  fool :  he  believed  and  trembled :  he  prayed  because 
he  feared :  he  sinned  because  his  faith  was  without  love. 
His  devotion,  the  result  of  his  perfect  belief  in,  and  abject 
terror  of,  an  Eternity  of  Punishment  and  Reward,  was  most 
intense ;  it  never  could  have  been,  in  outward  expression, 
contemptible  buffoonery.  To  have  seen  the  attitude  of  Louis 
in  prayer  would  have  rejoiced  a  saint ;  to  have  known  his  heart 
at  the  time  would  have  made  angels  weep.  Mr.  Irving  can 
have  no  authority  for  this  grotesque,  nay  burlesque,  devotion, 
for  had  he  even  been  guided  by  Sir  Walter  Scott,  he  would 
have  found  that  Louis  '  doffed,  as  usual,  his  hat,  selected  from 
the  figures  with  which  it  was  garnished  that  which  represented 
his  favourite  image  of  the  Virgin,  placed  it  on  a  table,  and 
kneeling  down,  repeated  reverently  the  vow  he  had  made'." 


24o       THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xv. 

He  never  altered  this  reading,  for  he  felt  that  the  gloom  of 
the  play  required  as  much  lightness  as  he  could  impart  into 
it,  and  this  was  just  one  of  the  opportunities  which  seemed  a 
relief  to  the  monotony.  Farces  were  still  popular  at  this 
period,  and  "  Louis  XI."  was  preceded  by  one — "Turning 
the  Tables  ". 

After  a  run  of  some  seventy  nights,  "  Louis  XI."  gave  way 
to  the  production  of  a  new  play,  written  by  Mr.  Percy  Fitz- 
gerald in  conjunction  with  the  late  W.  G.  Wills.  It  was  in 
five  acts,  and  was  a  version  of  the  immortal  legend  of  "The 
Flying  Dutchman  ".  The  story  first  appeared  in  English  in 
BlackwoocCs  Magazine,  in  May,  1821,  under  the  title,  "  Van- 
derdecken's  Message  Home,  or  the  Tenacity  of  Natural 
Affection".  From  this  came  "The  Flying  Dutchman," 
written  by  Edward  Fitzball,  and  brought  out  at  the  Adelphi 
Theatre  on  4th  December,  1826,  with  T.  P.  Cooke  as  a 
pantomimic  Vanderdecken,  who  emerged  from  the  sea  amid 
blue  flames  and  waving  aloft  the  piratical  emblem  of  a  black 
flag  decorated  with  the  traditional  skull  and  cross-bones.  It 
was  in  this  play,  which  contained  some  excellent  music  by 
Herbert  Rod  well,  that  Wagner  found  the  germs  of  "  Der 
Fliegende  Hollander".  The  poetical  idea  of  the  curse  being 
lifted  from  the  Dutchman  through  the  love  of  a  faithful 
woman,  willing  to  sacrifice  her  life  in  order  to  save  his  soul, 
was  due  to  Heine  and  utilised  by  Wagner.  The  opera  was 
first  performed  in  London  in  1876,  and,  as  related  by  Mr. 
Fitzgerald,  "the  idea  had  occurred  to  many  and,  not  un- 
naturally, that  here  was  a  character  exactly  suited  to  Irving's 
methods.  He  was,  it  was  often  repeated,  the  'ideal'  Vander- 
decken. He  himself  much  favoured  the  suggestion,  and  after 
a  time  the  '  Colonel '  entrusted  me  and  my  friend  Wills  with 
the  task  of  preparing  a  piece  on  the  subject.  For  various 
reasons,  the  play  was  laid  aside,  and  the  death  of  the  manager 
and  the  adoption  of  other  projects  interfered.  It  was,  how- 
ever, never  lost  sight  of,  and,  after  an  interval,  I  got  ready 
the  first  act,  which  so  satisfied  Irving  that  the  scheme  was 
once  more  taken  up.  After  many  attempts  and  shapings  and 


VANDERDECKEN 


241 


re-shapings,  the  piece  was  at  last  ready — Wills  having  under- 
taken the  bulk  of  the  work,  I  myself  contributing,  as  before, 
the  first  act.  The  actor  himself  furnished  some  effective  situa- 
tions, notably  the  strange  and  original  suggestion  of  the 
Dutchman's  being  cast  upon  the  shore  and  restored  to  life  by 
the  waves.  .  .  .  Nothing  could  be  more  effective  than  his 
first  appearance,  when  he  was  revealed  standing  in  a  shadowy 
way  beside  the  sailors,  who  had  been  unconscious  of  his  pres- 
ence. This  was  his  own  subtle  suggestion.  A  fatal  blemish 
was  the  unveiling  of  the  picture,1  on  the  due  impressiveness 


VANDERDECKEN. 
First  acted  at  the  Lyceum,  8th  June,  1878. 


PHILIP  VANDERDECKEN 

NILS  -        --- 

OLAF  - 

PASTOR  ANDERS  BEEN 

ALDERMAN  JORGEN     - 

JANS  STEFFEN     - 

SCREEN 

NURSE  BIRGIT    - 

CHRISTINE  - 

JETTY 

OLD  NANCY 

THEKLA 


Mr.  HENRY  IRVING. 
Mr.  JAMES  FERNANDEZ. 
Mr.  WALTER  BENTLEY. 
Mr.  EDMUND  LYONS. 
Mr.  A.  W.  PINERO. 
Mr.  R.  LYONS. 
Mr.  ARCHER. 
Miss  PAUNCEFORT. 
Miss  JONES. 
Miss  HARWOOD. 
Miss  ST.  JOHN. 
Miss  ISABEL  BATEMAN. 


ACT  I. — Evening,  SCENE.  Cottage  of  old  Nils,  the  Pilot, 
near  the  entrance  of  the  Christiania  Fjord.  ACT  II. — Day- 
break, SCENE  i.  Quay  of  the  Fishing  Village ;  SCENE  2. 
Interior  of  the  Cottage.  ACT  III.,  SCENE.  Path  leading  by 
the  cliff  to  the  cottage  of  Nils ;  distant  view  of  the  Skager 
Rack.  ACT  IV.,  SCENE  i.  Interior  of  the  Cottage;  SCENE  2. 
Deck  of  the  Phantom  Ship.— The  Haven. 


of  which  much  depended,  and  which  proved  to  be  a  sort  of 
picturesque  daub,  greeted  with  much  tittering — a  fatal  piece 
of  economy  on  the  part  of  the  worthy  manageress." 

1  From  her  youth,  Thekla,  the  heroine,  has  felt  herself  prompted  by 
mysterious  solicitation  or  warning  to  await  some  call  of  fate  or  duty  in  con- 
nection with  a  portrait  that  has  been  discovered  in  her  father's  house.  At 
length,  wearied  by  delay,  she  consents  to  betrothal  to  a  handsome  young 
sailor,  Olaf,  the  man  of  her  father's  choice.  While  the  ceremony  is  in  pro- 
gress, Vanderdecken  appears.  Without  any  expression  of  wonderment  or 
coyness,  but,  on  the  contrary,  with  a  complete  possession  which  conquers 
every  maidenly  instinct,  Thekla  surrenders  herself  to  the  man  whom  she 
has  expected  for  so  long — the  man  of  the  portrait — and  goes  with  him  on 
board  the  fatal  ship. 

VOL.  i.  16 


242       THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING    [CHAP.  xv. 

This  "romantic poetic  drama"  was  produced  on  8th  June, 
but  a  summer  of  unusual  warmth,  added  to  the  gloom  of  the 
play,  soon  sealed  the  fate  of  this  version  of  the  old  story. 
There  was  considerable  merit  in  the  play,  however,  and  the 
poetical  language  of  Mr.  Wills  was  one  of  its  most  worthy 
features.  Irving  had  little  more  to  do  than  appear  picturesque 
and  impressive — an  accomplishment  which  needed  no  effort 
on  his  part— but  it  was  generally  conceded  that  the  character 
was  not  worthy  of  so  fine  an  actor.  Vanderdecken  made  way, 
after  a  brief  reign  of  only  a  month,  for  a  revival,  on  Monday, 
8th  July,  of  "The  Bells"  and  "Jingle,"  for  the  benefit  of  the 
creator  of  Mathias.  He  was  received  with  a  remarkable  scene 
of  enthusiasm,  the  plaudits  at  the  conclusion  of  the  play  in 
which  he  had  first  drawn  the  town  being  remarkable,  even  at 
the  Lyceum  in  those  days — and  for  many  years  afterwards, 
when  thunders  of  applause  constantly  testified  to  the  popu- 
larity of  the  actor.  On  the  occasion  under  notice,  he  was 
greeted  with  a  tempest  of  cheers  on  making  his  first  entrance 
as  Mathias,  called  twice  at  the  end  of  the  first  act,  thrice  at 
the  end  of  the  second,  and,  after  five  calls  at  the  end,  "  bouquets 
and  laurel  wreaths  were  showered  upon  him  in  abundance. 
There  were  hand-clappings  and  hurrahs,  and  wavings  of 
handkerchiefs  and  shouts  of  congratulation,  and,  indeed,  all 
possible  signs  of  admiration  for  the  popular  idol."  "  Jingle,"  of 
course,  was  a  re-arrangement  by  James  Albery  of  his  "  Pick- 
wick," in  which  Irving  had  acted  in  October,  1871.  Instead 
of  the  four  acts  of  "  Pickwick,"  there  were  now  six  tableaux  which 
were  labelled  Jingle  the  Stroller,  Jingle  the  Lover,  Jingle 
the  Financier,  Jingle  the  Dandy,  Jingle  the  Swindler,  and 
Jingle  the  Penitent.  At  the  end  of  Jingle's  adventures, 
there  was  another  tremendous  outburst  of  enthusiasm,  and 
Irving,  in  complying  with  the  demands  for  a  speech,  said  : 
"  Ladies  and  Gentlemen, — I  hope  to  have  the  honour  of  ap- 
pearing before  you  again  ere  the  season  closes,  and  then  I 
shall  have  an  opportunity  of  saying  a  few  words.  I  have  to 
thank  you  for  the  brilliant  attendance  here  to-night.  Such 
occasions  as  these,  few  as  they  are  in  the  experiences  of  a  life, 


Photo  :   H.  Van  der  Weyde  ;  copyright,  Langfier,  London. 

VANDERDECKEN. 


1878]  MRS.  BATEMAN  RESIGNS  243 

must  of  necessity  make  a  lasting  impression.  Your  kindness 
I  never  shall  forget.  I  wish  I  could  have  done  more  for  you 
to-night.  Some  friends  asked  me  to  recite,  and  if  they  should 
be  present  on  the  last  night  of  the  season,  I  shall  be  happy  to 
oblige  them.  Some  asked  that  I  would  play  Hamlet,  and 
these  I  may  inform  that  that  tragedy  will  be  revived  next 
season.  I  cannot  express  all  that  I  feel,  but  you  may  be  as- 
sured I  am  more  than  grateful,  and  that  I  shall  always  strive 
to  do  all  I  can  to  please  you  and  to  meet  your  wishes." 

This  programme  proved  so  popular  that  it  was  repeated 
until  the  end  of  the  season — in  August.  In  the  meantime, 
Dame  Rumour  had  been  busy,  for  it  was  openly  said  that 
Irving  was  dissatisfied  with  some  of  the  old-fashioned  methods 
which  still  prevailed  at  the  Lyceum,  and  it  was  felt  that  he 
could  not  remain  much  longer  in  a  position  which  compelled 
him  to  be — as  undoubtedly  he  was — the  vital  attraction  of 
the  theatre,  yet  left  him  no  real  voice  in  the  management  of 
the  house.  Mrs.  Bateman  moreover — and  not  unnaturally— 
could  not  see  that  her  own  children  had  any  defects,  and  she 
insisted  upon  the  retention  of  Miss  Isabel  Bateman  as  the 
leading  actress.  The  position  was  intolerable,  and  Irving 
decided  that  he  could  no  longer  remain  in  it.  His  decision 
was  tantamount  to  Mrs.  Bateman's  retirement.  So  that,  auto- 
matically, the  theatre  fell  into  his  hands,  and  he  acquired  the 
lease  of  the  Lyceum.  The  theatre  closed,  somewhat  suddenly, 
in  the  third  week  of  August,  and  the  old  manageress  issued  a 
valedictory  address  in  the  course  of  which  she  paid  a  just 
tribute  to  her  successor.  Dated  3ist  August,  1878,  it  ran  as 
follows  :  "  Mrs.  Bateman  begs  to  announce  that  her  tenancy 
of  the  Lyceum  Theatre  terminates  with  the  present  month. 
For  seven  years  it  has  been  associated  with  the  name  she 
bears.  During  the  three  years  and  a  half  that  the  business 
management  has  been  under  her  special  control,  the  liberal 
patronage  of  the  public  has  enabled  her  to  wind  up  the  affairs 
of  each  successive  season  with  a  profit.  During  this  period 
'  Macbeth '  was  produced  for  the  first  time  in  London  without 
interpolation  from  Middleton's  *  Witch '.  Tennyson's  first  play, 

16* 


244       THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xv. 

'  Queen  Mary,'  was  given  ;  and  Shakespeare's  '  King  Richard 
III./  for  the  first  time  in  London  from  the  original  text.  Mrs. 
Bateman's  lease  has  been  transferred  to  Mr.  Henry  Irving, 
to  whose  attraction  as  an  artist  the  prosperity  of  the  theatre 
is  entirely  attributable,  and  she  confidently  hopes  that  under 
his  care  it  may  attain  higher  artistic  distinction  and  complete 
prosperity.  In  conclusion,  Mrs.  Bateman  ventures  to  express 
her  gratitude  for  the  kindness  and  generosity  extended  to  her 
by  the  public — kindness  that  has  overlooked  many  shortcom- 
ings and  generosity  that  has  enabled  her  to  faithfully  carry  out  all 
her  obligations  to  the  close  of  her  tenancy." 

Apart  from  his  proud  position  as  an  actor,  Henry  Irving 
had  achieved  distinction  as  a  writer  and  speaker  on  the  sub- 
ject of  the  stage  before  he  became  his  own  manager.  In 
1877,  he  contributed  two  articles,  one  of  which  has  been  al- 
luded to  already,  entitled  "  An  Actor's  Notes  on  Shakespeare," 
to  the  Nineteenth  Century.  The  first  of  these,  in  the  April 
number,  was  in  support  of  his  contention  that  the  Third 
Murderer  in  "  Macbeth  "  was  not — as  some  commentators  urge 
—the  Thane  himself,  but  an  attendant  who  figures  in  the 
opening  of  the  third  act.  In  his  second  article,  on  Hamlet 
and  Ophelia,  in  the  May  issue  of  the  publication,  he  sought 
to  exonerate  Ophelia  from  complicity  in  the  plot  of  the  King 
and  Polonius  to  spy  upon  the  Prince  of  Denmark  :  "There is 
nothing  in  the  text  or  stage  directions  that  convicts  her  of 
actual  complicity.  Her  feeling  was  somewhat  vague  and 
confused,  especially  as  she  would  not  be  taken  more  into  con- 
fidence than  necessary.  Much  that  was  said  in  the  interview 
between  the  Queen,  the  King,  and  Polonius  might  have 
been  spoken  apart  from  Ophelia,  the  room  in  the  castle  being 
probably  a  large  one,  in  which  a  knot  of  talkers  might  not  be 
overheard  by  a  pre-occupied  person.  When  suggestions  of 
this  kind  were  condemned  as  over-refined,  it  is,  I  think,  too 
often  forgotten  that  it  must  be  settled  between  stage-manager 
and  players,  in  every  case,  how  the  latter  are  to  dispose 
themselves  when  on  the  stage ;  that  Shakespeare  himself 
must  have  very  much  affected  the  complexion  of  his  plays  by 


1878]  ADDRESS  AT  PERRY  BAR  245 


his  personal  directions ;  that  the  most  suggestive  and  there- 
fore most  valuable  of  these  have  been  lost ;  and  that  in  re- 
producing old  plays,  in  which  there  is  much  scope  and  even 
great  necessity  for  subtle  indications  of  this  kind,  nothing  can 
be  too  refined  which  intelligibly  conveys  to  an  audience  a 
rational  idea  of  each  individuality  and  a  consistent  theory  of 
the  whole."  In  the  latter  part  of  this  passage  is  found  the 
idea  which  dominated  the  actor  in  all  his  Shakespearean  and 
other  productions.  His  third  essay,  in  the  same  magazine, 
appeared  in  February,  1879,  and  in  it  he  explained  his 
reasons  for  discarding  the  use  of  pictures  or  medallions  in 
Hamlet's  scene  with  his  mother  in  the  Queen's  closet. 

On  the  6th  of  March,  1878,  the  year  which  was  destined 
to  see  the  beginning  of  his  glorious  reign  at  the  Lyceum,  he 
delivered,  in  his  capacity  as  president,  an  address  at  the 
Perry  Bar  Institute,  near  Birmingham.  In  accepting  the 
post  thus  conferred  upon  him,  he  wrote  :  ''To  be  numbered 
with  the  representatives  of  so  admirable  an  institution  is,  I 
can  sincerely  say,  one  of  the  greatest  distinctions  I  can  hope 
to  attain.  The  honour  which  has  been  conferred  upon  me  is 
the  more  appreciated  as  I  recognise  in  it  a  tribute  not  so 
much  to  myself  as  to  my  profession,  and  to  the  elevating 
character  of  the  Drama  as  one  of  the  intellectual  influences  of 
the  time.  By  this  proof  of  their  esteem  for  an  actor,  the 
Council  of  the  Perry  Bar  Institute  have  offered  the  best 
answer  to  those  who  have  misrepresented  the  true  spirit  of 
the  stage,  as  inconsistent  with  the  moral  and  educational 
progress  of  the  nation."  The  opening  part  of  his  address, 
which  was  entitled  "The  Stage,"  was  as  follows  :  "Standing 
here,  as  I  do,  in  succession  to  distinguished  men  with  whom 
it  would  be  arrogance  to  compare  myself,  it  is  natural  that 
a  feeling  of  affectionate  reverence  should  come  over  me  for 
the  art  to  which  my  life  has  been  devoted.  To  it,  I  owe 
all.  To  it,  not  least  of  all,  I  owe  the  honour  of  speaking  to 
you  to-day.  It  were  strange  if  I  could  forget,  or  at  such  a 
moment  prefer  any  other  theme  than  the  immemorial  and 
perpetual  association  of  the  stage  with  the  noblest  instincts 


246       THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xv. 

and  occupations  of  the  human  mind."  The  address  was 
one  of  the  most  eloquent  and  vigorous  appeals  for  fair  play 
ever  made  on  behalf  of  the  stage,  and,  if  he  had  done  noth- 
ing else  in  his  career  but  this,  his  brother  and  sister  players 
would  be  mightily  be-holden  to  him.  The  essay  is  far  too 
long  for  anything  like  full  quotation,  but  some  of  its  most 
notable  passages  may  be  given:  "The  stage  whose  cause  I 
plead  is  that  which  Shakespeare  worked  for  and  made  im- 
mortal. It  is  that  which  he  would  have  religiously  pre- 
served, in  defiance  of  all  current  immoral  tastes.  I  advocate 
the  stage,  as  at  its  best  it  is  among  us ;  as  it  may  be  in  every 
theatre  in  the  kingdom,  as  it  would  be  if  you,  the  public, 
would  make  it  so." 

He  then  paid  to  Samuel  Phelps  one  of  the  highest 
eulogies  that  could  possibly  be  bestowed  by  one  actor  upon 
another,  and  his  tribute  to  Macready  was  no  less  remark- 
able. In  connection  with  the  latter  actor,  he  recalled  the 
fact  that,  not  long  after  Byron's  bitter  denunciation  of  the 
stage  of  his  time,  "came  the  admirable  lesseeship  of  Mac- 
ready,  with  its  grand  contributions,  both  to  the  literature  of 
the  stage  and  the  character  of  the  theatre.  Byron's  '  Werner ' 
and  '  Sardanapalus'  were  impersonated  by  Macready,  an  actor 
I  never  had  the  good  fortune  to  see,  but  who  was  not,  I 
believe  and  am  told,  unworthy  of  the  best  days  of  the  stage, 
though  pursued  during  a  part  of  his  career  by  the  shafts  of 
malignity  which  fastened  on  the  original  genius  which  was 
his  glory  "-  —words  which  must  have  been  uttered  with  some 
poignancy,  for  the  speaker  himself  had  already  suffered 
keenly  from  "the  shafts  of  malignity".  In  the  concluding 
passages  of  his  address,  the  actor  gave  utterance  to  his  pro- 
fession of  faith.  "We  go  forth,"  he  said,  "armed  with  the 
luminous  panoply  which  genius  has  forged  for  us,  to  do  battle 
with  dulness,  with  coarseness,  with  apathy,  with  every  form 
of  vice  and  evil.  In  every  human  heart  there  gleams  a 
bright  reflection  of  this  shining  armour.  The  stage  has  no 
lights  or  shadows  that  are  not  lights  of  life  and  shadows  of 
the  heart.  To  each  human  consciousness  it  appeals  in 


1878]       THE  REWARD  OF  THE  ACTOR          247 

alternating  mirth  and  sadness,  and  will  not  be  denied.  Err 
it  must,  for  it  is  human,  and,  being  human,  it  must  endure. 
The  love  of  acting  is  inherent  in  our  nature.  Watch  your 
children  at  play,  and  you  will  see  that  almost  their  first  con- 
scious effort  is  to  act  and  to  imitate.  It  is  an  instinct,  and 
you  can  no  more  repress  it  than  you  can  extinguish  thought. 
Some  of  the  earliest  drafts  of  the  stage  are  current  still,  en- 
dorsed by  many  names  of  great  actors  who  have  not  lessened 
their  credit,  and  who  have  increased  and  quickened  their 
circulation.  Some  of  its  latest  achievements  are  not  un- 
worthy of  their  predecessors.  Some  of  its  youngest  devotees 
are  at  least  as  proud  of  its  glories  and  as  anxious  to  preserve 
them  as  any  who  have  gone  before.  Theirs  is  a  glorious 
heritage.  I  ask  you  to  honour  it.  They  have  a  noble,  but 
a  difficult,  and  sometimes  a  disheartening  task.  I  ask  you  to 
encourage  it.  No  word  of  kindly  interest  or  criticism 
dropped  in  the  public  ear  from  friendly  lips  goes  unregarded 
or  is  unfertile  of  good. 

"  I  hope  I  shall  not  be  thought  to  be  adopting  too  humble 
and  apologetic  a  key  if  I  plead  for  actors,  not  merely  that  their 
labours  have  honour,  but  that  their  lives  be  regarded  with 
kindly  consideration.  Their  work  is  hard,  intensely  laborious 
—feverish  and  dangerously  exciting.  It  is  all  this  even  when 
successful.  It  is  often  nothing  short  of  heartbreaking  when 
success  is  missed  or  sickenjngly  delayed. 

"In  our  art  of  acting  we  strive  to  embody  some  conception 
of  our  poets,  or  to  revive  some  figure  of  history.  We  win  if 
we  can.  If  we  fail  we  have  only  '  our  shame  and  the  odd 
hits/  and,  whether  we  fail  or  not,  the  breath  of  applause  and 
the  murmurs  of  censure  are  alike  short-lived  and  our  longest 
triumphs  are  almost  as  brief  as  either. 

"  In  the  long  run  of  popular  remembrance  the  best  reward 
to  be  hoped  for  by  those  of  us  who  most  succeed  is  to  be  cited 
to  unbelieving  hearers,  when  we  are  dead  and  gone,  as  illustra- 
tions of  the  vast  superiority  of  bygone  actors  to  anything  that 
is  to  be  seen  on  the  stage  of  to-day. 

"  Such  a  life  is  fraught  with  various  and  insidious  temptations, 


248       THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xv. 

and  should  be  solaced  by  the  thoughtfulness,  brightened  by 
the  encouragement,  softened  by  the  liberal  estimation  of  the 
public,  instead  of  being  held  at  arm's  length  by  social  prejudice, 
or  embittered  by  uncharitable  censoriousness. 

"  We  actors  have  in  charge  a  trust  and  a  deposit  of  enormous 
value,  such  as  no  dead  hand  can  treasure.  Upon  our  studies, 
our  devotion,  our  enthusiasm  must  depend  thoughts  and  emo- 
tions of  coming  times  which  no  literary  tradition  can  pass  down 
to  the  future.  The  living  voice,  the  vivid  action,  the  tremulous 
passion,  the  animated  gesture,  the  subtle  and  variously  placed 
suggestion  of  character  and  meaning — these  alone  can  make 
Shakespeare  to  your  children  what  Shakespeare  is  to  you. 
Only  these  can  open  to  others  with  any  spark  of  Shakespeare's 
mind  the  means  of  illuminating  the  world.  Such  is  our  birth- 
right and  yours — such  a  succession  in  which  it  is  ours  to  labour 
and  yours  to  enjoy.  If  you  will  uphold  the  stage,  honestly, 
frankly,  and  with  wise  discrimination,  the  stage  will  uphold  in 
future,  as  it  has  in  the  past,  the  literature,  the  manners,  the 
morals  and  the  fame  of  our  country." 

Another  high  compliment  in  connection  with  an  institution 
of  a  similar  nature  to  that  at  Perry  Bar — a  society,  by  the  way, 
affiliated  with  the  Midland  Institute — was  paid  to  the  actor 
five  months  after  the  delivery  of  the  above  address.  On  I2th 
August — a  few  days  after  which  Mrs.  Bateman's  management 
of  the  Lyceum  ended — he  laid  the  foundation  stone  of  the 
Harborne  and  Edgbaston  Institute.  He  profited  by  his 
presence  to  again  urge  his  favourite  plea  on  behalf  of  the  actor- 
one  of  which  he  never  tired  throughout  the  entire  course  of  his 
career.  "  It  is  not  for  me,"  he  said,  "  to  speak  in  detail  of  the 
course  of  study  to  be  pursued  at  your  Institute — to  recommend 
one  branch  of  study  in  preference  to  another  ;  but,  speaking  as 
an  actor—  "  he  invariably  insisted  upon  his  own  profession  when 
addressing  a  body  of  spectators  out  of  the  theatre — he  felt  that 
"  they  would  see  that  it  was  as  difficult  for  player  as  for  professor 
to  forget  his  calling  for  five  minutes — he  was  glad  to  know  that 
they  would  not  leave  out  of  their  culture  that  legitimate  devel- 
opment of  the  imagination  without  which  life  was  but  a  dry 


1878]         VARIETY  IN  DRAMATIC  ART  249 

routine.  If  they  did  not  idealise  something,  this  was  a  painfully 
prosaic  world.  Poetry  and  fiction  did  much  to  lighten  their 
care,  and  for  many  people  the  drama  did  more,  for  it  sometimes 
helped  many — especially  the  poor,  the  uncultured,  and  un- 
lettered— to  a  right  appreciation  of  life.  He  did  not  argue— 
and  he  was  sure  they  did  not  expect  him  to  argue — whether  the 
dramatic  exposition  had  or  had  not  a  beneficial  influence  in  the 
main  upon  society.  If  they  differed  on  that  point  he  should 
not  have  been  there,  and  he  should  not  have  had  the  satisfac- 
tion of  having  been  chosen  by  his  friends  at  Perry  Bar  as  the 
representative  of  the  association  of  dramatic  art  with  the  edu- 
cational work.  With  those  people  who  maintained  that  there 
was  a  something  radically  vicious  in  the  whole  theory  and 
principle  of  the  stage — well,  they  must  live  as  comfortably  as 
they  could.  Such  persons  would  like  to  rob  actors  of  their 
audiences,  but  actors  did  not  bear  them  any  malice  for  that. 
What  sensible  men  had  to  do  was  not  to  make  futile  attempts 
to  destroy  an  institution  which  was  bound  up  with  some  of  the 
best  instincts  of  human  nature,  but  to  strive  to  remove  its  abuses 
and  elevate  its  tone.  He  was  sure  the  members  of  that 
Institute  would  never  forget  what  they  owed,  and  what  the 
world  owed,  to  that  great,  supreme  genius  who  had  shed  im- 
mortal lustre  on  the  dramatic  literature  of  the  country.  Far 
above  the  merits  of  any  individual  actor,  there  was  this  con- 
sideration, that  if  he  aimed  at  the  highest  standard  of  his  pro- 
fession, he  helped  thousands  to  a  fellowship,  sympathy,  and 
intelligence  with  the  great  mind  which  gave  to  the  drama  its 
noblest  form.  But  some  people  said,  '  Oh,  we  think  Shake- 
speare very  admirable,  and  if  you  played  nothing  but  his  works 
at  every  theatre  we  should  be  delighted  to  support  you'. 
It  seemed  to  him  that  one  might  almost  as  well  say,  'if  every 
book  of  poetry  I  take  up  has  not  the  lofty  inspiration  of  Milton, 
I  must  refuse  to  support  poetry'.  But  it  was  impossible  for 
Shakespeare  to  be  played  in  every  theatre,  for  many  obvious 
reasons.  In  dramatic  representation,  as  in  everything  else, 
there  must  be  a  variety  of  tastes.  Art  had  many  phases,  and 
every  one  of  them  contained  something  admirable  and  excel- 


250       THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xv. 

lent  in  its  way.  Certainly,  the  higher  the  general  level  of  their 
culture,  the  more  exalted  would  be  their  taste ;  and  he  felt 
assured  that  the  efforts  of  the  members  of  that  Institute  and 
kindred  Institutes  would  be  directed  to  foster  what  was  worthiest 
in  dramatic  art." 

During  a  visit  to  Northampton,  Irving  told  at  the  meet- 
ing of  the  Shakespeare  Society  of  that  town,  an  anecdote 
which  was  widely  copied,  embellished,  and  distorted.  As  he 
first  related  it,  the  story  went  that,  ten  years  previously,  that 
is  to  say,  in  the  summer  of  1868,  while  passing  through 
Stratford-on-Avon  in  the  company  of  his  friend  Toole,  he  saw 
a  rustic  sitting  on  a  fence.  "  That's  Shakespeare's  house, 
isn't  it  ?  "  he  asked,  pointing  to  the  building.  "  Yes."  "  Ever 
been  there?"  "  No."  "  How  long  has  he  been  dead?" 
"  Don't  know."  "  Many  people  come  here?"  "Yes,  lots." 
"Been  to  the  house?"  "No,  never  been  to  the  house." 
"  What  did  he  do ?  "  "  Don't  know."  "  Brought  up  here ? " 
"Yes."  "Did  he  write  for  the  Family  Herald  or  anything 
of  that  sort?"  "Oh,  yes;  he  writ."  "What  was  it?  You 
must  know."  "Well,"  said  the  rustic,  "I  think  he  writ  for 
the  Bible." 

His  reading  at  Northampton  was  given  on  8th  August,  in 
the  Town  Hall,  in  aid  of  a  fund  for  the  restoration  of  Hart- 
well  Church.  The  programme  comprised  "The  Feast  of 
Belshazzar,"  "The Captive, "scenes from  "  Hamlet,"  "  Richard 
III.,"  and  "  David  Copperfield,"  and  "The  Dream  of  Eugene 
Aram  " — an  entertainment  of  considerable  length,  but  Irving 
never  spared  himself  on  such  occasions.  After  the  reading, 
came  a  supper  party  in  the  Council  Chamber  and  the  presenta- 
tion of  a  beautifully  illuminated  address.  "To  realise  the 
true  aspirations  of  poetic  genius,  and  to  give  adequate  ex- 
pression to  the  true  emotions  of  the  soul,  is,"  it  said,  "the 
highest  triumph  of  the  player.  This  enviable  distinction  has 
been  attained  by  few,  and  it  is  most  gratifying  to  know  that 
among  the  honoured  ones  your  name  is  unmistakably  enrolled. 
It  is  the  earnest  hope  of  this  society  that  you  may  live  long 
to  grace  the  art  of  which  you  are  so  distinguished  an  orna- 


1878]  A  READING  IN  BELFAST  251 

meat,  and  which,  as  a  moral  teacher,  is  so  potent,  and  as  an 
intellectual  recreation  so  fascinating."  The  presentation  was 
made,  on  behalf  of  the  Northampton  Shakespeare  Society, 
by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Sanders,  who  said,  thanks  to  the  splendid 
genius  of  their  honoured  guest,  the  prospects  of  the  stage  at 
that  moment  were  particularly  bright.  In  the  course  of  his 
speech  in  reply,  Irving  assured  the  company  that,  although  he 
had  not  done  very  much,  what  he  had  done  was  the  outcome 
of  a  reverent  desire  to  get  at  the  core  of  the  poet's  meaning. 
An  actor  might  be  very  dignified  and  very  declamatory,  but 
unless  he  endeavoured  to  lay  bare  the  springs  of  the  character 
he  represented,  his  work  would  be  of  little  use.  The  stage 
was  governed  by  traditions  compared  with  which  the  laws  of 
the  Medes  and  Persians  were  very  elastic  ;  but  it  was  possible, 
he  thought,  "even  in  these  degenerate  days,  to  throw  some 
new  light  on  the  poet's  meaning ;  and,  although  the  persons 
who  attempted  that  might  be  looked  upon  by  many  people  as 
rather  dangerous  characters,"  such  an  endorsement  as  they 
had  given  that  evening  of  the  contrary  opinion  could  not  be 
otherwise  than  gratifying. 

On  the  following  Monday,  as  already  recorded,  he  laid 
the  foundation  stone  of  the  Harborne  and  Edgbaston  In- 
stitute. Here,  also,  an  illustrated  address  was  presented 
to  the  actor.  "  We  esteem  it  a  great  privilege,"  it  said,  "to 
associate  your  name  with  our  undertaking — a  name  which 
so  worthily  stands  in  the  first  rank  of  dramatic  art.  We  trust 
you  may  be  long  spared  to  adorn  the  profession  you  have 
adopted,  and  to  continue  your  praiseworthy  endeavours  to 
elevate  the  drama  to  its  high  and  proper  position.  Amongst 
these  arduous  duties  may  you  still  find  time  to  assist  those 
who,  like  ourselves,  may  be  desirous  of  increasing  the  sources 
of  mental  and  rational  enjoyment,  and  of  knitting  communities 
together  in  bonds  of  fellowship  and  goodwill."  Three  days 
later,  Irving  gave  some  readings,  in  aid  of  the  Samaritan 
Hospital,  Belfast,  in  the  Ulster  Hall  of  that  city.  The  pro- 
gramme was  similar  to  that  at  Northampton.  He  had  no 
holiday  this  summer,  for,  his  various  readings  and  addresses 


252       THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xv. 

over,  his  provincial  tour  began  immediately,  the  Lyceum, 
meanwhile,  being  occupied  by  the  eldest  Miss  Bateman  with 
a  revival  of  Tom  Taylor's  drama,  "  Mary  Warner,"  in  which 
she  had  the  support  of  Mr.  James  Fernandez,  the  late  John 
Billington,  and  her  sister,  Miss  Virginia  Francis. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

1878. 

A  triumphal  tour — Praise  from  Liverpool  and  Dublin — A  speech  in 
Dublin — Manchester  recognises  the  beauty  of  his  Hamlet — And  extols  his 
Richelieu — Sheffield  braves  the  wind  and  the  wet — Irving's  views  on  a 
National  Theatre  set  forth — Gives  readings  in  Edinburgh  and  Glasgow  in 
aid  of  the  sufferers  by  the  failure  of  the  City  of  Glasgow  Bank — Letter  from 
him  in  regard  to  America — "  Becket "  being  written  for  him — Death  of  old 
friends — Evil  prognostications — His  policy  for  the  future  of  the  Lyceum 
outlined — Miss  Ellen  Terry  engaged  for  the  Lyceum — Her  career  up  to 
this  period. 

IRVING'S  tour  of  1878  was  a  series  of  artistic  and  pecuniary 
triumphs.  From  Leicester  and  Preston,  he  proceeded  to 
one  of  his  strongholds,  Liverpool,  where  he  appeared  as 
Hamlet.  The  Alexandra  Theatre — a  large  house,  now 
converted  into  a  music-hall — was  packed  from  floor  to  ceiling 
and  the  demeanour  of  the  audience  was  a  high  tribute  to  the 
performance.  The  spectators  listened  eagerly  to  every  word 
that  fell  from  Hamlet's  lips,  and,  from  the  opening  of  the  play 
until  its  close,  silence  reigned  supreme  save  when  plaudits 
rang  through  the  house.  "  To  the  genuine  student  of  Shake- 
speare's meaning,"  said  the  Daily  Post,  "  Mr.  Irving's 
Hamlet  affords,  in  all  its  parts,  and  especially  in  the  refined 
and  intellectual  connection  of  its  parts — in  its  silence  as  well 
as  in  its  speech — in  its  previsions  as  well  as  in  its  realisations 
—a  degree  of  instruction  and  suggestion,  a  varied  stimulus  to 
thought,  such  as  far  outweighs  in  truth  and  value  all  mere 
popular  effect.  And  in  addition  to  all  this,  it  transcends  in 
popular  effect,  at  the  point  where  this  is  permissible  and 
desirable,  every  other  impersonation  with  which  experience 
or  tradition  acquaints  us.  Mr.  Irving,  caring  little  in  the 
main  for  those  prompt  successes  with  an  audience,  which  in 

253 


254     THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xvi. 

'  Hamlet '  are  as  easily  attainable  as  they  are  inappropriate 
and  out  of  the  spirit  of  the  play,  seizes  the  one  great  oppor- 
tunity with  magnificent  power.  During  the  rest  of  the  action 
he  is  a  rare  embodiment  of  the  irresolute,  poetical,  fate-driven, 
fascinating  frailty  of  temperament  which  the  great  dramatist 
has  with  such  originality  associated  with  Hamlet's  mental 
vigour.  The  effect  of  the  play -scene  was  never  greater  than 
last  night,  and  no  audience  has  ever  more  clamorously  Con- 
fessed the  magic  of  the  actor's  overwhelming  tragic  force  in 
executing  this  sublime  conception,  which  brings  the  passion 
of  the  play  within  the  domain  of  irresistible  reality,  without 
sacrificing — on  the  contrary,  rather  heightening — its  lofty 
poetry."  "  Richelieu"  and  "  Louis  XI."  were  also  played  in 
Liverpool,  and,  of  course,  were  warmly  received. 

He  next  proceeded  to  Dublin  where  the  greeting  was, 
if  possible,  warmer  than  on  his  visits  in  1876  and  1877. 
His  Richelieu  and  Louis  XL — which,  unlike  his  Hamlet, 
were  new  to  Dublin — took  his  Irish  friends  by  surprise. 
"The  general  satisfaction  so  warmly  evinced  throughout," 
said  one  critic,  "affords  proof  that  rant  and  roar  and  strut  are 
not  the  qualities  by  which  is  compelled  the  approbation  of  a 
Dublin  audience.  The  performance  " — that  of  "  Richelieu  "- 
"as  far  as  the  principal  personage  was  concerned,  was  quiet 
and  subdued,  but  full  of  force,  power,  and  impressiveness. 
Every  minute  detail,  from  the  comparatively  trifling  episode 
where  he  examines  Huguet's  arquebus,  to  the  moment  where 
he  falls,  pallid,  shrinking,  helpless,  into  his  chair,  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  last  scene,  was  most  delicately  elaborated. 
His  manner  with  Julie  was  most  gentle  and  tender ;  his 
comedy  refined  and  subtle ;  his  bursts  of  anger  truly  vivid 
and  eloquent."  Equal  enthusiasm  was  displayed  by  the  press 
and  public  of  Dublin  towards  his  Louis  XI.  On  the  last 
night  but  one  of  the  engagement,  Friday,  4th  October,  he 
made  a  speech,  the  manuscript  of  which  is  in  the  Hennell 
collection.  It  is  evident  that  it  was  written  with  extreme 
care  and  it  shows  the  infinite  pains  which  he  took  over  such 
comparatively  minor  details.  "I  cannot,"  he  said,  "let  this 


1878]  SUCCESS  IN  MANCHESTER  255 

occasion  pass  without  expressing  my  heartfelt  thanks  for 
your  kindness  and  help  in  the  present  and  in  the  past.  You 
can  imagine  what  a  delight  it  has  been  to  me  to  find  that  on 
each  occasion  that  I  have  come  amongst  you  I  have  gained 
new  friends  without  losing  the  old.  This  I  know,  for  although 
the  numbers  have  increased  on  each  successive  occasion,  I 
see  every  night  the  old  familiar  faces  and  hear  the  voices  that 
I  know  and  like  so  well.  For  your  welcome  and — far  more 
than  all — for  your  sympathy  and  for  your  appreciation  of  my 
work  and  efforts — how  am  I  to  thank  you  ?  Those  only  can 
know  the  exquisite  delight  of  sympathetic  applause  who  have 
spent  their  lives  in  the  patient,  loving  study  of  an  art,  and, 
borne  up  by  the  hope  of  a  joy  such  as  is  mine  to-night,  have 
lived  through  all  the  bitterness  of  disappointed  hopes  and 
baffled  aspirations." 

On  7th  October,  he  began  a  fortnight's  engagement  at 
the  Theatre  Royal,  Manchester.  The  local  critics  who,  in 
the  previous  year,  had  written  disparagingly  of  his  Richard, 
now  reluctantly  admitted  his  claims  to  recognition  as  Hamlet 
and  Richelieu,  and  went  into  extravagance  of  praise  over 
his  Louis.  "There  is  one  crucial  test  of  a  Hamlet,"  said  the 
Guardian,  ''which  Mr.  Irving  has  borne,  and  that  should  be 
accepted  as  in  some  degree  a  measure  of  success.  He  has 
thoroughly  individualised  the  part,  and  large  houses  are  never 
wanting  to  witness  and  applaud  when  he  forms  the  central 
figure  of  the  play.  An  actor  must  soar  far  beyond  mediocrity 
to  bear  the  test  of  time  in  this  most  exacting  of  all  characters. 
This  Mr.  Irving  has  done,  and  his  most  adverse  critic  cannot 
gainsay  his  success."  He  had  strong  opposition  during  this 
engagement.  Not  only  were  the  times  bad  in  a  financial 
sense  in  Manchester,  but  Barry  Sullivan,  then  in  the  height 
of  his  popularity,  was  pitted  against  him.  But  he  held  his 
own,  even  his  Richelieu — one  of  the  most  popular  of  Sullivan's 
impersonations,  as  it  was  one  of  his  most  robustious  perform- 
ances— was  recognised  as  a  fine  piece  of  acting.  The  Ex- 
aminer, in  allusion  to  Irving's  rendering  of  the  Cardinal,  said  : 
"  There  have  been  actors  in  some  respects  more  powerful  than 


256     THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xvi. 

Mr.  Irving  who  have  subordinated  to  a  lofty  conception  of  a 
mighty  and  inflexible  ruler  of  the  destinies  of  a  nation  all 
those  lighter  phases  of  his  character  which  the  dramatist  sup- 
plied. By  Mr.  Irving's  naturalistic  method  that  fault  is 
avoided,  and  as  under  the  developing  solution  of  his  talent  the 
portrait  comes  forth,  we  feel  that  this  is  no  mere  creation  of 
the  poet's  fancy,  and  something  more  than  a  clever  example 
of  the  actor's  power  ;  but  some  such  a  man  as  Richelieu  may 
well  have  been  only  greater  in  his  intellect  than,  and  not 
different  in  his  species  from,  his  contemporaries.  The  beauty 
of  Mr.  Irving's  interpretation  is  its  naturalness  and  its  thorough 
consistency  ;  but  it  is  no  less  distinguished  by  its  energy  and 
its  exquisite  art."  As  for  Louis  XL  the  writers  could  not  find 
words  of  sufficient  eloquence  with  which  to  express  them- 
selves. The  Guardian  went  so  far  as  to  allow  itself  to  de- 
scribe the  performance  not  only  as  " magnificent"  but  as 
"one  of  the  most  complete  and  powerful  efforts  the  present 
generation  has  seen  ". 

Visits  to  Greenock,  Dundee,  Edinburgh,  Glasgow,  Shef- 
field, and  Birmingham,  all  told  the  same  tale  of  houses 
crowded  to  their  utmost  capacity  and  columns  of  praise  with- 
out a  jarring  note.  Each  town  vied  with  the  other  in  the 
warmth  of  its  demonstrations.  This  was  particularly  notice- 
able in  Sheffield.  "  In  spite  of  the  wind  and  the  wet,  there 
was  not  a  vacant  seat  in  the  Theatre  last  night  when  the 
famous  player  was  to  repeat  the  impersonation  with  which  he 
charmed  Sheffield  audiences  twelve  months  ago.  It  is  one 
of  the  most  cheering  concomitants  of  theatrical  diversion  to 
see  a  crowded  'house/  eager  and  attentive,  bending  forward 
in  perfect  stillness  to  catch  the  accents  of  the  performers. 
This  is  what  the  patrons  of  the  play  did  last  evening  from  the 
very  moment  of  the  rising  of  the  act-drop  to  the  fall  of  the 
heavy  green-baize  curtain.  The  entire  building  as  far  as  the 
footlights  glistened  with  faces,  and  when  the  occasion  came, 
as  it  very  often  did,  for  a  demonstration  of  hands  and  feet, 
the  unanimity  and  heartiness  were  irresistibly  impressive  as  a 
mere  spectacle." 


1878]    VIEWS  ON  A  NATIONAL  THEATRE    257 

Such  gratifying  scenes,  which  were  now  the  ordinary  oc- 
currences of  Irving's  public  life,  were  some  recompense  for 
the  hardships  he  had  endured.     But  they  did  not  lessen  his 
energy.     On  the  contrary,  they  were  a  further  spur  to  his 
ambition.     The  four  months'  tour  ended  in  Birmingham  in  the 
middle  of  December.     Despite  the  hard  work  of  rehearsing, 
acting,  and  travelling,  he  was  giving  his  constant  attention  to 
his  plan  of  campaign  at  the  Lyceum — engaging  his  company 
and  suggesting  alterations  in  the  theatre.     Nor  was  his  pen 
idle  during  all  this  extraordinarily  busy  time.     The  December 
number  of  one  of  the  magazines  contained  a  most  interesting 
article  from  his  pen  on  "The  Grave  of  Richard  III.";  and, 
being  asked  for  his  views  concerning  a  National  Theatre,  for 
a  paper  which  was  read  at  the  Social  Science  Congress  in 
October,  he  wrote  as  follows  :  "The  question  of  the  establish- 
ment of  a  National  Theatre  is  surrounded  by  so  many  diffi- 
culties, and  has  so  many  side  issues,  that  the  time  at  present 
at  my  disposal  does  not  allow  me  to  go  properly  into  it.     The 
two  questions  which  must  from  the  beginning  be  held  in  view 
are :  Is  a  National  Theatre  desirable  ?     Is  its  establishment 
upon  a  permanent  basis  a  possibility?     With  regard  to  its 
desirability,    I    have  little,  if  any,  doubt.      In   this    country, 
artistic  perfection  of  a  high  ideal  is  not  always  the  road  to 
worldly  prosperity ;  and  so  long  as  open  competition  exists 
there  will  always  be  found  persons  whose  aim  is  monetary 
success  rather  than  the  achievement  of  good  work.     In  order 
that  the  stage  may  be  of  educational  value,  it  is  necessary 
that  those  who  follow  its  art  should  have  an  ideal  standard 
somewhat  above  the  average  of  contemporary  taste.     This 
standard  should  be  ever  in  advance,  so  that  as  the  taste  and 
education  of  the  public  progress,  the  means  for  their  further 
advancement  should  be  ready.     To  effect  this  some  security 
is  necessary.     If  the  purifying  and  ennobling  influence  of  the 
art  is  to  be  exercised  in  such  a  manner  as  to  have  a  lasting 
power,   it  is  necessary  that  the  individual  be  replaced  by 
something  in  the  shape  of  a  corporation,  or  by  the  working 

of  some  scheme  by  its  nature  fixed  and  permanent.     It  would, 
VOL.  i.  17 


258     THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xvi. 

I  think,  be  at  present  unadvisable  to  touch  upon  the  subject 
of  State  subsidy  with  reference  to  the  British  stage.  The 
institutions  of  this  country  are  so  absolutely  free  that  it  would 
be  dangerous — if  not  destructive — to  a  certain  form  of  liberty 
to  meddle  with  them.  '  Quid  pro  quo '  is  a  maxim  which  holds 
good  of  State  aids,  and  a  time  might  come  when  an  un- 
scrupulous use  might  be  made  of  the  power  of  subsidy.  Be- 
sides, in  this  country,  the  State  would  never  grant  monetary 
aid  to  individual  enterprise  under  any  guarantees  whatsoever. 
As  the  State  could  not  possibly  of  itself  undertake  the  establish- 
ment and  management,  the  adoption  of  some  corporate  form 
would  be  necessary  with  reference  to  the  stage  before  the 
subsidy  could  be  raised  with  any  possibility  of  success. 

"A  'National  Theatre'  implies  an  institution  which,  in  its 
nature,  is  not  either  limited  or  fleeting.  Such  a  scheme  must 
be  thorough,  must  rest  upon  a  very  secure  basis,  and  must 
conform  to  the  requirements  of  art,  polity,  and  commerce.  It 
must  be  something  which,  in  the  ordinary  course  of  things, 
will,  without  losing  any  of  its  purpose  or  any  of  its  indiv- 
iduality, follow  with  equal  footsteps  the  changes  of  the  age. 
In  order  to  do  this,  it  must  be  large,  elastic,  and  independent. 
Let  us  consider  these  conditions.  Firstly,  as  to  magnitude. 
As  the  National  Theatre  must  compete  with  private  enterprise, 
and  be  with  regard  to  its  means  of  achieving  prosperity 
weighted  with  a  scrupulosity  which  might  not  belong  to  its 
rivals,  it  should  be  so  strong  as  to  be  able  to  merge  in  its 
steady  average  gain  temporary  losses,  and  its  body  should  be 
sufficiently  large  to  attempt  and  achieve  success  in  every 
worthy  branch  of  histrionic  art.  Secondly,  the  corporate 
body  should  be  to  a  certain  extent  elastic.  The  production 
of  talent  in  a  country  or  an  age  is  not  always  a  fixed 
quantity ;  and  whilst  for  the  maintenance  of  a  high  standard 
of  excellence  no  one  manifestly  under  the  mark  of  his  fellows 
should  be  admitted,  all  those  worthy  of  entrance  should  be 
absorbed.  Thirdly,  the  National  Theatre  should  be  in- 
dependent. Once  established  under  proper  guarantees,  it 
should  be  allowed  to  work  out  its  own  ideas  in  its  own  way. 


1878]  OFFERS  FROM  AMERICA  259 

Art  can  never  suffer  by  the  untrammelled  and  unshackled 
freedom  of  artists — more  especially  when  the  idiosyncrasies 
of  individuals,  with  the  consequent  possible  extravagance,  are 
controlled  by  the  wisdom  and  calmness  of  confluent  opinion. 
The  difficulties  of  systematisation  would  be  vast,  but  the 
advantages  would  be  vast  also.  The  merits  of  the  con- 
centration of  purpose  of  men  following  kindred  pursuits  have 
been  tested  already,  and  the  benefits  both  to  individuals  and 
the  bodies  are  known.  Our  art  alone  has  yet  no  local 
habitation,  no  official  recognition,  no  political  significance. 
Should  the  scheme  of  a  National  Theatre  be  carried  out, 
great  results  might  follow — much  good  to  the  great  body  of 
aspirants  to  histrionic  fame.  Provision  might,  at  a  small  ex- 
pense to  each  individual,  be  made  for  the  widow  and  the 
orphan.  Old  age  would  be  divested  of  the  terrors  of  want. 
A  restraining  influence  would  be  exercised  on  unscrupulous- 
ness.  A  systematic  school  of  teaching  would  arise ;  and  the 
stage  would  acquire  that  influence  and  position  which,  what- 
ever they  may  be  in  the  present,  are  to  be  in  the  future 
great."  Thus,  thirty  years  ago,  Irving  said  all  that  there  was 
to  be  said  in  regard  to  a  National  Theatre,  which,  despite 
recent  discussion,  seems  as  far  from  realisation  as  ever. 

Apart  from  his  other  work  while  on  tour  in  the  autumn  of 
1878,  he  gave,  at  Edinburgh  and  Glasgow,  two  readings  in 
aid  of  the  sufferers  by  the  failure  of  the  City  of  Glasgow  Bank. 
He  was  the  first,  by  the  way,  to  suggest  a  subscription  on 
their  behalf.  He  did  so  while  addressing  an  enthusiastic 
crowd  at  the  stage-door  of  the  theatre  in  Greenock.  The 
readings  resulted  in  the  addition  of  ^730  to  the  fund.  The 
desk  and  gas  apparatus  which  he  used  on  those  occasions  were 
the  same  as  those  used  by  Charles  Dickens,  whose  family  had 
presented  them  to  the  actor.  At  this  time,  also,  his  eminence 
was  so  great,  that  a  professional  visit  to  America  was  seriously 
mooted.  Early  in  1877,  as  already  noted,  he  had  received 
an  alluring  offer  for  a  tour  of  the  United  States,  and  there 
were  other  offers  from  the  same  quarter  in  the  autumn  of 
1878.  Nor  was  it  a  particularly  new  experience  for  him  tq 

17* 


26o     THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xvi. 

be  misrepresented  in  this,  as  in  other  affairs.  He  had  oc- 
casion to  put  himself  right,  and  accordingly  caused  the  follow- 
ing letter  to  the  Press  to  be  published  :— 

"  SIR, — In  your  last  issue  you  adverted  to  a  letter  which  is 
supposed  to  have  been  written  by  me,  and  in  which  these 
sentences  occur — *  I  am  not  foolish  enough  to  consider  my 
success  certain  among  the  American  people,  of  whose  tastes 
I  know  nothing.  In  England,  I  know  what  I  am  about.' 

"This  extract  is  a  pure  fabrication,  and  I  will  be  glad  if 
you  will  let  me  say  so. 

"  Far  from  not  wishing  to  visit  America,  I  earnestly  look 
forward  to  going  there,  for  I  love  the  country  and  have  troops 
of  friends  in  it. 

"  Yours  very  truly, 

"  HENRY  IRVING. 

"GLASGOW,  \%th  November,  1878." 

By  a  curious  coincidence,  the  announcement  that  "  Mr. 
Tennyson  is  writing  a  play  on  the  history  of  Thomas  a 
Becket " — the  character  in  which  Irving  won  one  of  his  great- 
est successes  in  America — was  made  just  at  the  time  that  he 
wrote  the  above  letter.  This  eventful  year  brought  to  Irving 
a  loss  which  he  felt  keenly — the  death,  on  24th  June,  of  his 
old  and  true  friend,  Charles  James  Mathews ;  and  on  6th 
November  there  passed  away  the  fine  old  actor,  Samuel 
Phelps,  from  whom  Irving,  as  a  youth,  had  received  his  first 
offer  of  a  theatrical  engagement. 

Incredible  as  it  may  appear  to  the  impartial  mind,  there 
were  prophets  of  evil  in  connection  with  the  announcement 
of  Henry  Irving's  management  of  the  Lyceum.  Actor- 
managers  had  never,  or  hardly  ever,  succeeded.  So  it  was 
said,  and  with  truth.  Macready  and  Charles  Kean  had  failed, 
and  why  should  "  the  fashionable  tragedian  "  succeed  ?  There 
was  the  notable  case,  still  fresh  in  the  memory  of  the  public, 
of  Charles  Mathews,  "  who  never  seemed  able  to  do  any  good 
for  himself  except  when  he  was  under  some  one  else's  manage- 
ment, and  this  although  the  fare  offered  to  the  public  was 


1878]  THE  NEW  POLICY  261 

under  both  sets  of  circumstances  the  same.  In  no  offensive 
sense  of  the  words,  it  may  be  said  that  on  the  stage,  as 
elsewhere,  the  good  servant  has  frequently  proved  the  bad 
master."  This  was  from  a  journal  the  intentions  of  which 
were  avowedly  friendly  to  the  actor.  There  was  much  more 
to  the  same  purpose  in  other  quarters.  Misgivings  were,  in- 
deed, general.  The  very  fact  that  Irving,  apart  from  his 
merit  as  an  actor  and  his  unbounded  popularity,  had  proved 
himself  an  earnest  student  of  his  art  and  the  greatest  champion 
for  the  elevation  of  the  stage  that  had  ever  lived,  was  against 
him  in  a  commercial  success.  On  the  other  hand,  he  had 
many  doughty  champions,  and  it  was  pointed  out,  some  three 
months  before  he  began  his  management  of  the  Lyceum,  that 
"  the  actor  who  conscientiously  respects  what  he  believes  to 
be  the  intention  of  the  author,  who  will  spare  no  pains  to 
determine  the  exact  signification  of  a  line  or  a  passage,  or  a 
stage  direction,  and  who  makes  himself  acquainted  with  every 
available  authority  upon  the  subject  with  which  he  deals— 
this  player  surely  shows  that  he  has  not  a  few  of  the  qualities 
most  to  be  desired  in  a  manager  whose  efforts,  as  he  himself 
states,  are  to  be  directed  not  only  towards  immediate  results 
of  pounds,  shillings,  and  pence,  but  towards  the  future  founda- 
tion of  a  School  of  Dramatic  Art ". 

This  latter  allusion  was  founded  on  Irving's  statement  as 
to  his  intentions  in  a  speech  made  on  his  benefit  night  at  the 
Alexandra  Theatre,  Liverpool,  in  September.  "At  the 
termination  of  my  present  tour,"  he  said,  "my  professional 
career  in  London  will  enter  upon  a  new  period,  though  with- 
out change  of  scene.  When  an  actor  turns  manager,  it  is  not 
with  a  greedy  wish  to  monopolise  either  profits  or  opportunities. 
I,  at  least,  most  earnestly  profess  that  it  will  be  my  aim  at  the 
Lyceum  Theatre,  of  which  I  am  now  manager,  to  associate 
upon  the  stage  all  the  arts  and  all  the  talents  within  my  power 
to  subsidise,  so  as  to  make  the  theatre  a  true  school  of  dramatic 
art.  I  cannot  myself  pretend  to  be  a  master  of  any  school ; 
but  I  can  say  that  most  eminent  members  of  my  profession 
have  joined  me,  and  will  help  to  make  my  theatre  all  I  should 


262     THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xvi. 

wish  It  to  be  for  the  benefit  of  the  public  from  whom  I  have 
received  so  much  kindness."  There  was  evidence  in  this  ad- 
dress that  the  new  manager  did  not  intend  to  leave  anything 
to  chance.  The  most  important  of  the  "eminent  members" 
of  the  profession  who  had  elected  to  serve  under  his  banner 
was  Miss  Ellen  Terry,  whose  exquisite  performance  of  Olivia 
at  the  Court  Theatre  in  the  previous  April  had  drawn  the  at- 
tention of  Henry  Irving  to  the  great  charm  of  the  actress  and 
the  possibilities  of  her  future.  The  engagement  was  hailed 
with  delight.  Miss  Terry  was  then  in  her  thirty-first,  the 
actor-manager  in  his  forty-first,  year. 

As  Miss  Terry  shared  so  largely  in  the  artistic  triumphs  of 
Henry  Irving's  management — an  association  which  lasted  for 
over  twenty-three  years — itjs  necessary  to  note,  as  briefly  as 
may  be,  her  career  prior  to  December,  1878.  The  child  of 
players,  she  was  born  in  Coventry,  where  her  father  and 
mother,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Benjamin  Terry,  were  under  engage- 
ment, on  27th  February,  1848.  She  is  the  second  of  four 
daughters,  Miss  Kate  Terry  (Mrs.  Arthur  Lewis)  being  the 
eldest,  and  Miss  Marion  Terry,  the  third  daughter.  The 
youngest  sister,  Miss  Florence  Terry,  who  died  in  1896,  was, 
as  will  be  seen  in  due  course,  a  member  of  the  Lyceum  com- 
pany for  several  seasons.  Ellen  Alicia  Terry — to  give  her 
full  name — made  her  first  appearance  on  the  stage  as  a  child 
actress  at  the  Princess's  Theatre,  Oxford  Street,  then  the 
home  of  Shakespearean  drama.  Charles  Kean  was  the  man- 
ager, and  the  first  night — 28th  April,  1856 — of  his  production 
of  "The  Winter's  Tale"  was  honoured  by  the  presence  of 
Queen  Victoria,  Prince  Albert,  and  the  Princess  Royal.  So 
that  the  eight-year  old  impersonator  of  the  boy,  Mamillius, 
entered  upon  her  public  career  under  happy  auspices.  After 
"The  Winter's  Tale,"  which  ran  for  over  a  hundred  nights, 
there  came,  on  I5th  October,  "A  Midsummer- Night's 
Dream".  "Miss  Ellen  Terry,"  wrote  a  contemporary  critic, 
"played  the  merry  goblin,  Puck,  a  part  that  requires  an  old 
head  on  young  shoulders,  with  restless,  elfish  animation,  and 
an  evident  enjoyment  of  her  own  mischievous  pranks  ".  The 


Photo  :  Lock  and  Whitfield,  London. 

Miss  ELLEN  TERRY  IN  1878. 


1878]     ELLEN  TERRY'S  EARLY  CAREER        263 

child  actress  appeared  in  various  other  parts  at  the  Princess's 
—sometimes  playing  two  a  night — and,  on  5th  April,  1858, 
she  acted  a  boy,  Karl,  in  a  poor  adaptation  from  the  French, 
called  "  Faust  and  Marguerite".  In  another  piece,  a  come- 
dietta, she  was  again  a  boy,  a  " tiger".  On  i8th  October, 
of  the  same  year,  she  made  a  striking  success  as  Prince 
Arthur  in  "  King  John".  The  Kean  management  termin- 
ated in  1859,  and  the  Terry  sisters,  Kate  and  Ellen,  were 
taken  on  tour,  after  an  experimental  trip  at  the  Colosseum, 
Regent's  Park — a  building  which  Rogers,  the  poet,  pro- 
nounced "  finer  than  anything  among  the  remains  of  archi- 
tectural art  in  Italy "  —  in  a  drawing-room  entertainment, 
the  first  part  of  which  was  called  ''Distant  Relations,"  the 
second  being  entitled  "  Home  for  the  Holidays".  The  little 
party,  which  included  a  pianist,  in  addition  to  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Terry,  toured  for  several  months,  the  journeys  being 
generally  accomplished  by  coach  or  carriage.  The  young 
actress  re-appeared  in  London  in  November,  1861,  at  the 
Royalty  Theatre,  in  an  adaptation  of  Eugene  Sue's  "  A  tar- 
Gull".  From  the  Royalty,  the  juvenile  actress  went  to  the 
Theatre  Royal,  Bristol,  a  house  which,  under  the  management 
of  J.  H.  Chute,  possessed  one  of  the  finest  stock  companies 
in  the  country;  and  on  I5th  September,  1862,  in  an  extra- 
vaganza called  "  Endymion,"  "made  a  Cupid  who  was  his 
own  apology  for  all  the  influence  exerted".  Miss  Terry 
played  other  similar  parts  here,  and,  on  4th  March,  1863,  we 
find  her  at  Bath,  on  the  occasion  of  the  opening  of  the  new 
Theatre  Royal,  as  the  Spirit  of  the  Future  in  the  prologue, 
and  as  Titania  in  "A  Midsummer-Night's  Dream".  During 
her  engagements  at  Bristol  and  Bath  she  played  many  parts 
and  gained  valuable  experience.  Her  reputation,  also,  was 
such  that,  child  as  she  still  was,  the  metropolis  again  claimed 
her. 

The  young  actress  returned  to  London  under  an  engage- 
ment to  support  E.  A.  Sothern  at  the  Hay  market  Theatre. 
And,  here,  on  iQth  March,  1863 — being  then  only  just  fifteen 
years  of  age — she  acted  the  heroine  in  "  The  Little  Treasure  " 


264     THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xvi. 

— a  version  of  "  La  Joie  de  la  Maison  " — with  such  ingenuous- 
ness and  sincerity  that  she  was  brought  into  particular  promin- 
ence. A  little  later,  she  was  a  "graceful  and  winning"  Hero 
in  "  Much  Ado  About  Nothing".  During  her  stay  at  the 
Haymarket,  she  also  acted  Lady  Frances  Touchwood  in 
"The  Belle's  Stratagem,"  Julia  in  "The  Rivals,"  and  Mary 
Meredith  in  "  Our  American  Cousin  ".  At  the  Theatre  Royal, 
Holborn,  on  8th  June,  1867,  she  was  the  heroine  of  a  weird 
melodrama,  called  "The  Antipodes,  or  the  Ups  and  Downs 
of  Life  ".  At  another  vanished  playhouse,  the  Queen's,  in 
Long  Acre,  she  acted,  on  24th  October  in  the  same  year,  in 
Charles  Reade's  "  Double  Marriage,"  and,  on  i4th  November, 
Mrs.  Mildmay  in  "Still  Waters  Run  Deep".  On  26th  De- 
cember, "  Katherine  and  Petruchio"  was  revived,  the  occasion 
being  noticeable,  as  a  matter  of  stage  history,  from  the  fact 
that,  as  stated  in  Chapter  VI.,  Ellen  Terry  and  Henry  Irving 
acted  together  for  the  first  time.  Ellen  Terry  then  retired 
from  public  life  for  six  years.  Her  return  to  the  stage  was 
made  at  the  Queen's  Theatre  on  28th  February,  1874,  in 
Reade's  drama,  "The  Wandering  Heir,"  a  play  founded  on 
the  Tichborne  case.  In  April,  the  company  gave  a  few 
performances  at  Astley's  Amphitheatre,  and  here,  in  addition 
to  the  heroine  of  the  "  Wandering  Heir,"  Miss  Terry  was 
seen  as  Susan  in  "  It's  Never  too  Late  to  Mend". 

The  period  of  probation  was  now  over.  Ellen  Terry 
having,  as  a  mere  child,  played  many  parts,  and,  as  a  still 
extremely  youthful  actress,  having  obtained  invaluable  ex- 
perience of  the  stage,  received  an  offer  which  resulted  in  her 
remarkable  personality  being  brought  into  play  with  such 
effect  that  the  seal  of  success  was  set  upon  the  one  great 
Shakespearean  actress  of  the  latter  half  of  the  nineteenth 
century.  At  the  end  of  1874,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bancroft,  whose 
"little  theatre  in  Tottenham  Court  Road,"  the  old  Prince  of 
Wales 's,  the  site  of  which  is  now  covered  by  the  stage  of 
the  Scala  Theatre,  was,  thanks  to  the  Robertsonian  plays  and 
their  interpretation,  synonymous  with  success,  determined 
upon  a  revival  of  "The  Merchant  of  Venice".  The  revival 


1878]  PORTIA  IN  1875  265 

was  on  a  most  lavish  scale,  and  the  cast  was  chosen  with 
extreme  care  and  without  regard  to  cost,  but  for  all  that, 
and  for  reasons  which  do  not  concern  this  history,  it  was  a 
failure.  The  theatrical  world,  however,  owes  a  debt  of 
gratitude  to  the  Bancrofts  for  giving  to  us,  on  the  memorable 
night  of  i;th  April,  1875,  the  enchanting  Portia  of  Ellen 
Terry.  The  critics  of  that  day  exhausted  themselves  in  her 
praise,  and,  in  more  recent  years,  this  exquisite  performance 
charmed  countless  thousands  of  playgoers  in  London,  in 
the  provinces,  and  throughout  Canada  and  the  United  States 
of  America.  To  return,  however,  to  the  Bancroft  regime. 
"The  Merchant  of  Venice"  gave  way,  on  29th  May,  1875, 
to  "  Money,"  in  which  Miss  Terry,  as  Clara  Douglas,  made 
another  remarkable  success.  This  was  followed,  at  a  special 
matinee,  on  iQth  June,  by  "A  Happy  Pair,"  with  Miss  Terry 
as  Mrs.  Honey  ton.  Her  next  great  hit,  however,  was  as  Pauline 
in  a  Dingle  performance  of  "The  Lady  of  Lyons,"  at  the 
Princess's  Theatre,  on  7th  August  of  the  same  year.  Once 
more  the  critics  exhausted  themselves  in  eulogy.  "  Money" 
had  a  long  run,  and  it  was  not  until  6th  November,  1875, 
that  it  was  succeeded  by  "  Masks  and  Faces,"  with  Miss 
Terry  as  Mabel  Vane.  On  6th  May,  1876,  she  acted  her  last 
part  in  the  historic  little  playhouse  off  Tottenham  Court  Road 
—Blanche  Haye,  in  a  revival  of  "  Ours".  She  then  joined 
Mr.  (now  Sir)  John  Hare's  company  at  the  Court  Theatre, 
and  here  she  appeared,  in  November,  1876,  in  "Brothers," 
and,  in  December,  in  "New  Men  and  Old  Acres  ".  In  the 
latter  piece,  which  was  only  put  up  as  a  stop-gap,  but  which, 
nevertheless,  enjoyed  a  prolonged  career,  she  made  another 
step  on  the  ladder  of  fame,  despite  the  fact  that  there  is  not 
much  opportunity  for  the  actress  in  the  character  of  Lilian 
Vavasour.  On  ist  March,  1877,  Ellen  Terry  made  her 
first  appearance  on  the  stage  of  Drury  Lane,  on  which, 
curiously  enough,  she  was  not  seen  again  until  her  Jubilee 
Commemoration,  I2th  June,  1906.  The  previous  occasion 
was  the  benefit  of  Henry  Compton,  and  she  appeared  as 
Georgina  Vesey  in  "Money".  Remaining  at  the  Court 


266     THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xvi. 

Theatre,  she  next  played  there,  in  October,  1877,  in  "The 
House  of  Darnley,"  a  posthumous  play  by  Lord  Lytton, 
which,  being  a  prompt  failure,  was  succeeded  in  January, 
1878,  by  "  Victims,"  which  was  also  unsuccessful,  and  in 
which  she  had  a  very  poor  part. 

Then  came,  on  3Oth  March,  the  dramatisation,  by  the  late 
W.  G.  Wills,  of  "The  Vicar  of  Wakefield,"  called  "Olivia". 
The  beauty  of  Miss  Terry's  impersonation  was  instantly 
recognised.  "Olivia"  ran  throughout  the  season  at  the 
Court.  During  the  summer,  Miss  Terry  acted  in  the  pro- 
vinces, chiefly  as  Olivia.  She  also  played  two  other  parts 
—one  in  a  little  classical  comedy,  "The  Cynic's  Defeat,"  or 
"All  is  Vanity,"  the  other,  Dora,  in  Charles  Reade's  drama- 
tisation of  Tennyson's  poem,  a  character  which  had  been 
acted  by  Miss  Kate  Terry  in  the  original  production.  On 
this  tour,  and  on  her  tours  of  1879  and  1880,  her  "leading 
man"  was  her  husband,  Charles  Kelly  (his  real  name  was 
Wardell). 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

3oth  December,  1878 — August,  1879. 

Henry  Irving  inaugurates  his  management  of  the  Lyceum — The  Pre- 
face to  "  Hamlet " — Letters  to  Frank  Marshall — Some  reminiscences — 
Irving's  friends — His  company  and  lieutenants — Monday,  3oth  December, 
1878 — A  great  night — Fees  abolished — The  theatre  altered  and  redecor- 
ated— Enthusiasm  of  the  audience  and  of  the  Press — Miss  Ellen  Terry's 
Ophelia — The  Hamlet  of  1878 — The  literary  interest  of  the  revival— "To 
produce  the  '  Hamlet '  of  to-night,  I  have  worked  all  my  life  " — Benefit  to 
an  old  actor — "The  Lady  of  Lyons"  revived — Other  revivals — A  remark- 
able proof  of  versatility — Irving's  speech  on  the  last  night  of  the  season — 
Opinions  of  French  writers — Irving's  fine  hands — Courtesy  to  Sarah  Bern- 
hardt — More  reminiscences — A  well-won  holiday. 

IT  is  important,  as  a  matter  of  stage  history,  to  observe  that 
Miss  Terry  was,  in  1878,  only  on  the  threshold  of  her  glorious 
career.  Her  two  chief  successes,  Portia  and  Olivia,  had  been 
achieved  as  the  result,  partly,  of  her  youthful  experience,  but 
mainly  by  her  temperament.  Her  girlish  charm  and  the  in- 
describable wistfulness  of  her  manner  at  this  period  made  her 
an  ideal  Olivia,  and,  as  Irving  well  divined,  she  was  the  one 
actress  whose  talents  fitted  her  for  Ophelia.  Consequently, 
she  was  admirably  suited  for  the  position  of  leading  lady  at 
the  Lyceum — that  is  to  say,  for  the  young  heroines  of  Shake- 
spearean and  other  poetical  dramas. 

On  the  other  hand,  a  matter  of  far  greater  importance  to 
the  proper  view  of  the  life-work  of  the  great  actor-manager 
of  the  Lyceum,  Henry  Irving's  position  on  the  stage  was  an 
assured  one.  His  triumphs  as  Mathias,  as  Charles,  as  Eugene 
Aram,  as  Richelieu,  as  Richard  III.,  as  Lesurques  and 
Dubosc,  as  Louis  XL,  had  all  been  won.  He  had  acted 
Macbeth  and  Othello.  Above  all,  he  had  played  Hamlet 
for  two  hundred  consecutive  nights — and  to  profitable  business. 

His  impersonation  of  Hamlet,  and  the  unequalled  number 

267 


268     THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING    [CHAP.  xvn. 


of  consecutive  performances  attained  by  the  tragedy  in  con- 
sequence, formed  one  of  his  proudest  achievements.  He 
always  remembered  this  unique  success.  At  various  times 
in  his  career,  he  referred  to  it,  and  always  with  the  same 
glowing,  and  justifiable,  pride.  Thus,  for  instance,  in  No- 
vember, 1878,  he  wrote  from  Sheffield  to  his  friend,  Frank 
Marshall : — 

"  MY  DEAR  FRANK, — I  want  you  to  write  a  Preface — about 
seventy  or  eighty  lines — for  the  edition  of  '  Hamlet '  which  I 
mean  to  publish  for  sale  at  the  Lyceum.  You  know  my 
views — they  are  yours.  ..." 


HAMLET. 

Revived  at  the  Lyceum  on  the  opening  night  of  Henry 
living's  management,  3oth  December,  1878. 


HAMLET 

CLAUDIUS 

POLONIUS 

LAERTES 

HORATIO 

OSRIC 

ROSENCRANTZ 

GUILDENSTERN 

MARCELLUS    - 

BERNARDO 

FRANCISCO 

REYNALDO 

IST  PLAYER    - 

2ND  PLAYER    - 

PRIEST    - 

IST  GRAVEDIGGER 

2ND  GRAVEDIGGER 

MESSENGER     - 

GHOST  OF  HAMLET'S  FATHER 

GERTRUDE      - 

PLAYER  QUEEN 

OPHELIA          - 


Mr.  HENRY  IRVING. 
Mr.  FORRESTER. 
Mr.  CHIPPENDALE. 
Mr.  F.  COOPER. 
Mr.  T.  SWINBOURNE. 
Mr.  KYRLE  BELLEW. 
Mr.  A.  W.  PINERO. 
Mr.  ELWOOD. 
Mr.  GIBSON. 
Mr.  ROBINSON. 
Mr.  TAPPING. 
Mr.  CARTWRIGHT. 
Mr.  A.  BEAUMONT. 
Mr.  EVERARD. 
Mr.  COLLETT. 
Mr.  S.  JOHNSON. 
Mr.  A.  ANDREWS. 
Mr.  HARWOOD. 
Mr.  T.  MEAD. 
Miss  PAUNCEFORT. 
Miss  SEDLEY. 
Miss  ELLEN  TERRY. 


In  a  second  letter  to  Marshall  he  says  :— 

"  Cannot  it  be  put  down  that  I  played  it  at  the  Lyceum 
two  hundred  consecutive  nights  ?  I  should  like  it  to  read— 
*  It  will  be  found,  etc.,  production  of  the  play  at  the  Lyceum 
(3Oth  October,  1878)  when  Mr.  Irving  played  Hamlet  for  two 
hundred  consecutive  nights.  The  alterations  have  been  made 
by  him  in  accordance  with  the  experience  gained  by  frequent 
representations  of  the  character  of  Hamlet.' ' 


1878]  AN  ENVIABLE  POSITION  269 

And,  in  a  third  letter  to  Marshall  concerning  the  Preface 
to  his  acting  edition  of  '  Hamlet,'  he  re-iterates  these  views. 
Again,  in  1896,  an  article  appeared  in  one  of  the  English 
magazines  in  which  the  writer  made  bold  to  settle  the  actor's 
"claims"  once  and  for  all.  "It  is  pleasant  to  have  one's 
'claims'  settled  like  that,  monument,  epitaph,  and  all,"  he 
said,  when  spoken  to  on  the  subject : — 

"  I  recognised  some  affable,  familiar  ghosts  in  that  article 
—the  Lyceum  scenery  ghost,  the  National  Theatre  ghost, 
and  the  perturbed  spirits  of  the  original  dramas  I  might  pro- 
duce and  won't !  .  .  .  Except  in  one  case,  which  I  will  deal 
with  presently,1  the  scenic  art  has  never  been  made  the 
cardinal  element  of  my  policy.  Let  me  inflict  on  you  a  piece 
of  stage  history.  I  became  associated  with  the  Lyceum 
twenty-five  years  ago.  For  the  first  seven  or  eight  years, 
nothing  was  heard  of  this  predominance  of  scenery.  In  the 
days  of  Mr.  Bateman's  management,  we  produced  *  Hamlet/ 
which  had  the  unprecedented  run  of  two  hundred  nights,  at  a 
net  profit  of  ,£10,000.  The  entire  production  cost  about  one 
hundred !  Only  two  new  scenes  were  painted.  The  church- 
yard, with  a  yew  in  it,  was  borrowed  from  '  Eugene  Aram ' ;  the 
dresses  were  hired.  Obviously  the  success  of  those  years 
was  not  due  to  lavish  expenditure  on  decoration.  When  I 
became  manager,  my  first  Shakespeare  play  was  *  The  Mer- 
chant of  Venice'.  It  was  then  that  some  of  Mr. 's 

ancestors  became  restive.  They  shook  their  heads  at  the 
scenery,  and  yet  the  total  cost  of  that  production  was  only 
,£1200 — a  very  small  outlay  on  a  picture  of  Venice." 

Henry  Irving  began  his  management  with  many  things  in 
his  favour.  His  position  as  an  actor  was  already  great  and 
assured.  Even  those  who  disputed  his  ability  as  a  player, 
admitted  his  intellectuality  and  his  untiring  advocacy  of  the 
rightful  mission  of  the  stage.  His  friends  were  many  and 

1This  was  his  production,  in  1892,  of  "Henry  VIII.  "  "In  my  judg- 
ment, 'Henry  VIII.'  is  a  pageant  or  nothing.  Shakespeare,  I  am  sure,  had 
the  same  idea,  and  it  was  in  trying  to  carry  it  out  that  he  burnedi 
the  Globe  Theatre  by  letting  off  a  cannon! — H.  I." 


270    THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xvn. 

powerful.  Gladstone,  Alfred  Tennyson,  and  the  late  Baroness 
Burdett-Coutts  were  numbered  among  his  staunch  admirers. 
His  indomitable  will  had  asserted  itself  long  before  and  had 
enabled  him  to  triumph  over  difficulties  which  seemed,  at  first 
sight,  insurmountable.  He  had  two  other  qualities  which 
stood  out  prominently  and  were  of  inestimable  value,  not  only 
at  this  particular  period,  but  throughout  his  career — a  diplomacy 
which  was  based  upon  fine  feeling  and  a  keen  knowledge  of 
human  nature,  and  an  infinite  capacity  for  taking  pains.  The 
company  which  he  gathered  together  for  his  first  season  was 
the  best  that  he  could  obtain  for  the  purpose.  Apart  from  Miss 
Ellen  Terry,  it  included,  among  the  generation  of  experienced 
actors,  the  veteran  comedian,  W.  H.  Chippendale,  Thomas 
Swinbourne,  Henry  Forrester,  and  Miss  Pauncefort.  In  the 
younger  ranks  were  Mr.  Kyrle  Bellew,  Mr.  Frank  Cooper, 
Mr.  Arthur  W.  Pinero,  the  late  Arthur  Elwood,  and  Mr. 
Charles  Cartwright.  And,  a  sign  of  his  unfailing  remembrance 
of  old  friends,  there  was  the  comedian,  Sam  Johnson,  an  actor 
with  whom  he  had  played  in  Sunderland,  twenty-two  years 
previously.  He  retained  the  scenic  artist,  Mr.  Hawes 
Craven,  who  had  been  associated  with  the  Lyceum  through- 
out the  Bateman  management,  but,  in  place  of  Robert  Stoepel, 
there  was  a  new  musical  conductor  in  Mr.  Hamilton  Clarke. 
He  also  retained  Mr.  H.  J.  Loveday,  who,  as  we  have  seen, 
had  joined  the  Lyceum  staff,  as  stage-manager,  in  January, 
1877.  Mr.  Bram  Stoker,  at  the  solicitation  of  the  actor- 
manager,  gave  up  his  position  in  the  Dublin  Civil  Service, 
and  became  business  manager  for  Henry  Irving.  Both  the 
latter  gentlemen  retained  their  posts  until  the  death  of  the 
actor  in  1905 — a  tribute,  not  only  to  themselves,  but  to  the 
loyalty  of  their  chief. 

The  name  of  Henry  Irving  as  "sole  lessee  and  manager" 
of  the  Royal  Lyceum  Theatre  was  seen  on  the  programme 
for  the  first  time  on  Monday,  3Oth  December,  1878. 
There  were  many  points  of  interest  for  the  spectators  to  note 
before  the  beginning  of  the  performance.  The  audience  itself 
was  exceptionally  interesting.  Literature,  art,  the  learned 


1878]  FEES  ABOLISHED  271 

professions,  rank  and  fashion  were  well  represented  in  the 
stalls  and  private  boxes.  The  pit  and  the  gallery  were  filled  to 
repletion.  Indeed,  the  approaches  to  the  unreserved  portion 
of  the  theatre  had  been  occupied  for  hours  before  the  opening 
of  the  doors.  "  For  such  a  spectacle  as  the  house  presented," 
said  a  contemporary  writer,  "  we  have  no  precedent  in  England  : 
the  great  players  of  the  past  could  rely  for  ardent  support  upon 
only  one  section  of  their  audience ;  Mr.  Irving  seems  to  be 
popular  with  all  classes.  In  the  West-end,  it  has  become 
the  fashion  to  see  him  in  every  character  he  undertakes ;  the 
enthusiasm  he  excites  among  the  great  mass  of  playgoers  is 
indisputable. "  The  printed  programme  was  in  itself  an  augury 
of  good  taste  for,  instead  of  the  old-fashioned,  common  sheet, 
printed  in  heavy  type  and  black  ink,  there  was  a  neat  sheet 
of  buff  paper,  printed  in  a  light  chocolate  ink  which  did  not 
spoil  the  gloves  or  dirty  the  hands,  the  form  of  which  was 
retained  at  the  Lyceum  for  over  twenty  years.  Moreover, 
it  bore  the  following  conspicuous  announcement  :— 

44  The  Bill  of  the  Play  will  in  every  part  of  the  House  be 
supplied  without  charge. 

"  No  Fees  of  any  kind  will  be  permitted,  and  Mr.  Irving 
trusts  that  in  his  endeavour  to  carry  out  this  arrangement  he 
may  rely  on  the  co-operation  of  the  Public." 

Thus,  at  one  fell  swoop,  he  abolished  payment  for  pro- 
grammes and  charges  for  the  use  of  the  cloak-rooms.  He 
rigidly  adhered  to  this  innovation  throughout  the  period  of 
his  management.  Again,  he  had  called  in  the  assistance  of 
an  old  friend  in  Manchester — the  Polonius  to  his  youthful 
Hamlet — Mr.  Alfred  Darbyshire,  by  this  time  a  well-known 
architect,  with  whose  help  he  carried  out  many  alterations  in 
the  structure  and  decoration  of  the  theatre.  The  general 
scheme  of  decoration  was  sage  green  and  turquoise  blue. 
Comfortable  stalls  were  provided,  backs  and  rails  were  put 
to  the  seats  in  pit  and  gallery,  and  other  minor  improvements 
were  effected.  Formerly  of  a  dingy  aspect,  the  interior  of  the 
Lyceum  was  now  exceedingly  pleasing  to  the  eye,  not  the  least 
of  its  attractions  being  a  new  and  graceful  act-drop.  "  I  need 


272     THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xvn. 

not  enter  into  the  details  of  my  work  at  the  Lyceum  Theatre, 
done  for  my  friend  and  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  Lord  Chamber- 
lain and  Mr.  Arnold,  the  owner.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  the 
works  were  of  much  importance,  and  that  nothing  of  historic  or 
art  value  was  injured  or  destroyed.  The  Bartolozzi  ornaments 
on  the  circle  fronts  were  maintained  with  that  respect  due  to 
the  work  of  a  great  artist,  who  was  the  father  of  Madame 
Vestris,  once  the  lessee  of  the  theatre.  I  recollect  on  one 
occasion,  during  the  carrying  out  of  the  decorative  work,  the 
venerable  Walter  Lacy  was  present  when  the  ceiling  of  the 
auditorium  was  being  stripped  prior  to  the  new  scheme  of  de- 
coration. The  process  revealed  a  scheme  of  ornament  in  imi- 
tation of  lace  work  on  a  pink  coloured  ground.  On  showing  a 
piece  of  this  to  the  good  old  actor  he  exclaimed  :  *  This  is  a  por- 
tion of  the  work  done  to  please  Madame  Vestris !  Why !  my 
boy,  the  whole  place  was  hung  with  imitation  lace ;  it  was  a 
fairylike  oriental  ecstacy !  The  figure  groups  and  raised  orna- 
ments were  modelled  by  Bartolozzi.'"1 

Apart  from  the  brilliant  assemblage  of  notabilities  on  this 
historic  evening,  there  was  one  feature  which  possessed  the 
same  characteristic  which  distinguished  the  actor  throughout 
his  career,  especially  in  its  closing  years — his  attraction  for  the 
youth,  of  both  sexes,  of  the  country.  The  crowds  of  young 
people  which  he  drew  to  Drury  Lane  during  his  last  season 
in  London  are  still  fresh  in  the  remembrance.  He  had  just 
the  same  influence  in  1878,  for,  when  he  initiated  his  manage- 
ment on  30th  December  with  "  Hamlet,"  the  popular  portions 
of  the  theatre  were  filled  with  an  assemblage  of  "  intelligent 
high-spirited  youth,  whose  presence  showed  how  profound  an 
influence  the  theatre  is  calculated  to  exercise  over  the  future 
of  a  nation,  while  their  behaviour  proved  the  sincerity  of  their 
convictions  that  in  Mr.  Irving  they  had  found  the  realisation  of 
their  ideal.  Such  enthusiasm  and  such  faith  should  almost 
make  an  actor.  He  must  be  less  than  man  who  in  presence 
of  such  manifestations  as  were  last  night  heard  did  not  feel  his 

1  Alfred  Darbyshire  in  "The  Art  of  the  Victorian  Stage,"  1906. 


1878]        THE  HAND  OF  THE  MASTER  273 

soul  stirred  to  a  resolution  to  merit  such  appreciation  and  trust. 
There  was  an  absolute  frenzy  of  rage  when  any  one  during  a 
performance,  the  pauses  in  which  were  the  shortest,  took  his 
seat  late,  or  in  any  other  manner  made  a  noise  that  interfered 
with  the  power  of  hearing  what  was  spoken  ;  and  it  was  easy 
to  imagine  that  any  one  creating  purposely  a  disturbance 
would  have  had  an  ill  time  of  it.  Not  less  impressive  than 
the  stillness  of  the  audience  in  the  moments  of  passionate  in- 
terest was  the  outburst  when  the  whole  of  the  occupants  of 
the  house  rose  and  shouted  their  approval  and  admiration. 
The  influence  was  irresistible  and  electrical.  Whatever  may 
be  the  feeling  of  the  spectator  as  to  the  exposition  that  is 
afforded,  it  can  scarcely  be  maintained  by  any  that  this  tribute 
was  undeserved.  For  the  first  time  the  same  kind  of  intel- 
lectual care  has  been  bestowed  upon  the  mounting  of  a  dra- 
matic masterpiece  that  has  previously  been  reserved  for  the 
domestic  comedy  of  English  life,  or  the  imported  comedy  of 
French  manners.  We  have  in  Mr.  Irving  a  man  who,  besides 
supplying  a  thoughtful  and  elaborate  interpretation  of  the 
highest  character,  extends  over  an  entire  play  the  kind  of 
care  we  are  thankful  to  find  attendant  upon  a  single  role. 
We  feel  throughout  every  vibration  of  the  huge  machine  that 
the  hand  of  the  master  is  upon  the  lever,  and  that  every 
movement  is  directed  by  one  responsible  and  powerful  will. 
From  first  to  last,  accordingly,  the  performance  is  integral. 
It  may  be  wrong  or  right,  it  is  at  least  whole.  Scenery, 
decorations,  dresses,  everything  in  fact  in  connection  with  the 
play  is  arranged  with  a  view  to  producing  a  symmetrical  re- 
sult. For  the  first  time  we  have  a  Shakespearean  play  given 
with  ensemble.  The  gain  thus  afforded  cannot  be  over- 
estimated. It  amounts,  so  far  as  Shakespeare  is  concerned, 
to  revelation." 

There  were  many  similar  tributes  in  the  newspaper  press 
of  the  day  to  that  just  quoted — from  the  Globe — and  the 
eminent  position  which  had  already  been  achieved  by  Henry 
Irving  was  admitted  on  all  sides.  Nor  were  these  tributes 
confined  to  those  who  were  either  his  personal  friends  or  the 
VOL.  i.  1 8 


274     THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xvn. 

most  sympathetic  towards  his  aspirations.  Many  pages  could 
be  filled  with  the  praise  which  was  lavished  upon  him  by  im- 
partial observers,  but  the  best  proof  of  his  position  as  the  leader 
of  his  profession  and  of  his  unexampled  popularity  is,  perhaps, 
to  be  found  in  the  recognition  which  he  at  last  exacted  from 
his  two  old  opponents — Button  Cook  and  Joseph  Knight. 
Both  these  critics  were  gentlemen,  and  expressed  themselves 
as  such.  That  is  to  say,  their  writing  was  not  on  the  same 
level  as  that  of  the  men  who  only  sought  to  vilify  the  actor— 
and  most  of  whom,  by  the  way,  had  been  silenced,  by  now, 
through  the  force  of  public  opinion.  Button  Cook  and  Joseph 
Knight  could  not  have  been  blackguardly  in  their  criticism, 
had  they  tried.  But  they  were  severe  on  occasion,  and  Henry 
Irving  received  considerable  chastening  from  them  in  his  ear- 
lier years.  He,  no  doubt,  profited  by  their  strictures,  and,  that 
he  bore  no  malice  was  amply  demonstrated  towards  one  of  them 
—as  will  be  shown  hereafter — a  few  months  before  his  death. 
It  is  only  necessary  to  take  one  brief  excerpt  from  each  writer. 
Button  Cook  began  his  notice  with  the  statement  that :  "  Mr. 
Irving's  managerial  career  has  commenced  most  auspiciously. 
The  opening  representation  was,  indeed,  from  first  to  last 
simply  triumphant.  A  distinguished  audience  filled  to  over- 
flowing the  redecorated  Lyceum  Theatre,  and  the  new  im- 
presario was  received  with  unbounded  enthusiasm.  These 
gratifying  evidences  of  good-will  were  scarcely  required,  how- 
ever, to  convince  Mr.  Irving  that  his  enterprise  carried  with 
it  very  general  sympathy.  His  proved  devotion  to  his  art, 
his  determination  to  uphold  the  national  drama  to  its  utmost, 
have  secured  for  him  the  suffrages  of  all  classes  of  society. 
And  it  is  recognised  that  he  has  become  a  manager,  not  to  en- 
hance his  position  as  an  actor — for  already  he  stands  in  the 
front  rank  of  his  profession — but  the  better  to  promote  the  in- 
terests of  the  whole  stage,  and  to  serve  more  fully,  to  gratify 
more  absolutely  the  public,  his  patrons." 

Mr.  Knight's  recognition  of  an  obvious  state  of  affairs  was 
couched  in  somewhat  warmer  language :  "  Mr.  Irving  received 
such  manifestations  of  delight  and  approval  as  recall  the  most 


1878]  A  GREAT  TRIUMPH  275 

brilliant  triumphs  of  the  tragedians  of  past  time.  It  is  impos- 
sible to  doubt  the  sincerity  of  the  convictions  that  found  ex- 
pression in  ringing  cheers  and  shouts  of  affectionate  welcome. 
No  amount  of  care  or  expense  could  have  organised  a  demon- 
stration of  the  kind  ;  nothing  short  of  spontaneous  and  over- 
mastering enthusiasm  could  have  produced  it.  The  most 
severely  critical  estimate  of  Mr.  Irving's  powers  does  not  in- 
volve any  scepticism  as  to  the  value  of  a  demonstration  like 
this.  While  successive  governments,  with  a  timidity  and 
mistrust  of  the  people  which  speak  little  for  their  intelligence, 
leave  all  questions  of  literature  and  art  to  look  after  themselves, 
the  public  recognises  a  debt  of  gratitude  to  those  who  en- 
deavour by  private  action  to  make  up  for  national  shortcom- 
ings. To  present  a  Shakespearean  masterpiece  under  favour- 
able conditions,  with  an  adequate  cast  and  artistic  surround- 
ings, is  a  work  of  no  small  difficulty  or  importance.  In  saying, 
as  he  did,  in  a  short  address  to  the  public  after  the  performance, 
that  the  dream  of  his  life  had  been  to  do  this,  Mr.  Irving  ob- 
tained implicit  credence.  It  has,  indeed,  required  years  of 
preparation  to  bring  about  the  result.  As  some  motive  of 
personal  ambition  is  sure  to  colour  most  private  effort,  it  was 
necessary  for  the  actor  to  win  acceptance  for  his  own  concep- 
tion of  Hamlet  or  some  other  leading  Shakespearean  character. 
This  in  itself  means  delaying  an  experiment  until  the  top  of 
an  arduous  profession  is  reached.  A  theatre  has  then  to  be 
obtained,  and  actors,  seldom  too  amenable  to  discipline,  have 
to  be  drilled  until  they  become  one  harmonious  whole.  This 
triumph  Mr.  Irving  has  obtained.  The  representation  of 
'Hamlet'  supplied  on  Monday  night  is  the  best  the  stage, 
during  the  last  quarter  of  a  century,  has  seen,  and  it  is  the 
best  also  that  is  likely,  under  existing  conditions,  to  be  seen  for 
some  time  to  come.  Scenic  accessories  are  explanatory  with- 
out being  cumbersome,  the  costumes  are  picturesque  and  strik- 
ing and  show  no  needless  affectation  of  archaeological  accuracy  ; 
and  the  interpretation  has  an  ensemble  rarely  found  in  any 
performance,  and  never,  during  recent  years,  in  a  representa- 
tion of  tragedy." 

18* 


276     THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xvn. 

Here  was  high  praise  indeed.  Mr.  Knight,  as  did 
Mr.  Cook,  devoted  a  long  essay  to  the  discussion  of  Irving's 
interpretation  of  Hamlet  and  the  general  representation  of 
the  tragedy.  Both  critics  admired  Miss  Terry's  exquisite 
rendering  of  Ophelia,  and  gave  her  all  credit  for  her  beautiful 
performance.  But,  in  each  case,  the  critic  evidently  thought 
that  a  few  lines — six  in  one,  and  a  dozen  in  the  other- 
sufficient  recognition  of  the  young  actress.  Another  critic, 
who  had  the  advantage  of  seeing  the  representation  after  the 
first  night — when  "her  mad  scene  was  robbed  of  much  of  its 
effect  by  a  slight  hoarseness  and  want  of  self-possession  "- 
considered  her  Ophelia  "a  poem  in  action.  Her  change  of 
countenance  at  the  first  allusion  in  her  presence  to  Hamlet ; 
her- placing  her  hand  upon  her  brother's  shoulder  as  though 
to  add  weight  to  the  counsel  given  to  him  by  Polonius ;  her 
lingering  look  at  the  presents  as  she  returned  them  to  the 
giver ;  the  silent  anguish  in  which  she  parted  from  the 
cherished  day-dream  of  her  youth — all  this  may  be  classed 
with  those  May-fly  glories  of  the  stage  which  can  hardly  be 
perpetuated  by  literary  skill."  The  Saturday  Review,  among 
other  journals,  gave  a  detailed  account  of  Miss  Terry's  im- 
personation, and  found  much  reason  for  commendation,  not 
only  of  her  conception  of  the  part,  but  for  a  rendering  "  so 
perfect  that  every  word  seems  to  be  spoken,  every  gesture 
to  be  made,  from  the  emotion  of  the  moment,  on  the  impor- 
tance of  which  we  have  already  insisted.  The  pathos  of  the 
mad  scene  is  not  more  thought  out  or  more  natural  than 
the  emotion  shown  in  the  scene  where  Polonius  dismisses 
Laertes  to  his  ship,  a  scene  of  which  Miss  Terry  relieves  the 
possible  tedium  by  exhibiting,  during  Polonius's  speech,  the 
interest  which  a  sister  would  naturally  feel  in  her  brother's 
prospects.  Miss  Terry's  performance  begins  by  striking  a 
note  of  nature,  and  is  natural  and  complete  throughout,  with 
one  exception.  Throughout,  one  is  impressed  by  the  con- 
sistency of  the  actress's  conception,  and  by  the  perfect  ex- 
pression given  to  her  idea.  These  qualities  are  especially 
remarkable  in  the  mad  scene.  Here,  instead  of  the  incoherent 


1878]  A  HUMAN  HAMLET  277 

outpouring  of  imbecile  unconnected  phrases  which  has  too 
often  passed  for  Shakespeare's  representation  of  Ophelia's 
madness,  Miss  Terry  shows  us  an  intelligible,  and  (if  one 
may  use  a  seemingly  paradoxical  term)  consistent  state  of 
dementia.  That  is,  her  power  of  facial  expression,  her  action, 
and  her  intonation,  combine  to  show  us  the  origin  in  her  dis- 
ordered state  of  mind  of  each  wild  and  whirling  word  that  she 
utters.  Every  broken  phrase  and  strange  image  is  suggested 
by  some  recollection  of  the  time  before  she  was  distraught. 
The  intense  pathos  with  which  this  catching  up  of  interrupted 
threads  of  thought  is  presented  it  is  impossible  to  describe, 
except  in  the  words  of  Laertes  : — 

Thought  and  affliction,  passion,  hell  itself, 
She  turns  to  favour  and  to  prettiness. 

The  exception  referred  to  above  occurs  in  the  scene  where 
Ophelia  returns  Hamlet's  presents.  Here  Miss  Terry  is  too 
much  given  to  tears,  too  little  to  amazement.  But  this  is  a 
very  small  blemish,  if  it  is  a  blemish,  in  a  performance  full  of 
beauty." 

The  Hamlet  of  1878  was  substantially  that  of  1874 — a 
little  more  elaborate,  a  little  more  human — if  that  were  possible 
—but,  its  most  marked  change,  more  tender  in  its  treatment  of 
Ophelia.  Irving's  Hamlet  was  that  of  the  prince  and  lover,  as 
well  as  the  courtier,  soldier,  and  scholar.  "  Though  he  reso- 
lutely blots  out  from  his  life  as  a  '  trivial,  fond  record '  that  fond 
love  for  Ophelia  which  has  been  his  solace  and  stay  in  the 
midst  of  doubt  and  fear,  he  can  only  do  so  when  he  is  out  of 
her  presence.  In  spite  of  his  affected  cynicism,  he  loves  her  to 
distraction,  and  when  he  bids  her  depart  to  a  nunnery,  his 
passion  speaks  in  his  every  gesture  and  through  his  every 
word.  It  is  impossible  to  dwell  on  the  abundant  details  of 
which  the  performance  is  made  up.  We  can  only  say  that  it 
is  strongest  in  the  scenes  in  his  mother's  closet,  most  imagina- 
tive in  those  immediately  succeeding  the  play  scene,  most 
tender  in  the  interview  with  Ophelia,  most  thoughtful  in  the 
conversation  with  the  gravediggers,  Many  points  of  de- 
parture, so  far  as  regards  matters  of  detail,  from  the  previous 


278     THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xvu. 

representation  were  noticeable.  None  of  these,  however, 
greatly  affected  the  scope  of  the  entire  'conception.  Mr. 
Irving's  rendering  was  watched  with  painful  attention  and  no 
point  in  it  escaped  approval,  or  indeed  failed  to  elicit  en- 
thusiasm."1 

"  The  all-round  excellence  of  the  representation  was  freely 
recognised,  the  performance  being  compared,  in  this  respect, 
to  the  leading  feature  of  the  subsidised  theatres  of  the  Contin- 
ent. And  the  revival  had  a  literary  interest,  for  the  Lyceum 
version — the  work  of  the  actor-manager — differed  from  any 
previous  stage-versions,  in  many  respects.  Fortinbras,  as 
usual,  did  not  appear,  and  in  the  first  scene,  the  ghost  made 
its  appearance,  not  in  a  'front'  scene  of  meagre  proportions, 
but  in  the  battlements  of  the  castle.  The  old  stage  direction  that 
the  *  perturbed  spirit '  should  make  the  revelation  on  '  another 
part  of  the  platform'  was  probably  due  to  the  absence  of 
scenery  from  Elizabethan  theatres.  At  the  Lyceum,  the 
revelation  was  made  in  a  lonely  spot  at  some  distance  from 
the  castle.  This  change  is  in  strict  accordance  with  the  text ; 
Hamlet  follows  the  ghost  from  midnight  until  the  approach  of 
dawn,  and  his  words,  '  I'll  go  no  further,'  joined  to  the  diffi- 
culty experienced  by  Horatio  and  Marcellus  in  finding  him, 
suggest — unless,  indeed,  the  scene  occurs  at  a  time  of  year 
when  the  interval  between  midnight  and  daybreak  is  very 
short — that  a  considerable  distance  has  been  traversed.  Con- 
sequently, the  revelation  is  made  with  greater  effect  in  a  de- 
serted spot  than  within  earshot  of  the  revelry  which  is  taking 
place  in  the  castle.  The  quaint  apostrophes  to  the  ghost— 
'  Art  thou  there,  old  truepenny  ? '  and  *  Well  said,  old  mole ' 
—were  wisely  restored  at  the  Lyceum,  for  they  show  both 
the  unhinged  state  of  Hamlet's  mind  and  his  anxiety  to  mis- 
lead his  friends  as  to  the  true  state  of  the  supernatural  vision. 
The  closet  scene  was  enacted  in  a  room  adjoining  the  Queen's 
bedchamber,  and  the  ghost  passed  through  the  door  of  the 
latter  as  if  to  enforce  the  behest- 
Let  not  the  Royal  bed  of  Denmark,  etc. 
lrThe  Globe,  3ist  December,  1878. 


1878]  LITERARY  INTEREST  279 

The  Lyceum  ghost  appeared  in  a  sort  of  robe,  instead  of  the 
armour  usual  on  the  stage — an  alteration  justified  by  a  di- 
rection in  the  first  quarto  of  the  play — '  Enter  the  ghost  in 
his  night  gowne ' — and  by  Hamlet's  exclamation— 

My  father,  in  his  habit  as  he  lived  ! 

In  the  last  act,  Ophelia  was  buried  at  nightfall ;  first,  because 
that  used  to  be  the  custom  in  the  case  of  suicide,  and,  secondly, 
because  of  Hamlet's  allusion  to  the  '  wandering  stars '.  From 
two  lines  in  the  quarto  of  1603,  it  is  clear  that  Shakespeare 
intended  the  events  of  the  fifth  act  to  take  place  in  one  day. 
These  lines,  however,  are  omitted  from  all  subsequent  editions, 
and  it  is  evident  that  the  after-intention  of  the  author  was 
to  allow  a  night  to  elapse  between  the  burial  of  Ophelia  and 
the  fencing-match.  Is  it  likely,  as  was  pointed  out  by  F.  A. 
Marshall  in  the  Preface  which  he  had  been  commissioned  to 
write  for  the  Lyceum  acting-version,  that  such  a  match  would 
have  been  proceeded  with  on  the  day  of  interment?  The 
scene  between  Hamlet  and  Osric  had  hitherto  been  played  in 
a  'hall'.  At  the  Lyceum,  it  was  enacted  'outside  the 
castle,'  and  the  line- 
Put  your  bonnet  to  the  right  use ;  'tis  for  the  head 

was  no  longer  felt  as  being  inappropriate.  In  saying,  '  I  will 
walk  here,  in  the  hall,'  Hamlet  may  have  indicated  the 
castle  by  a  gesture.  The  change  also  had  the  advantage  of 
giving  variety  to  the  final  scene,  which  was  laid  in  a  hall, 
through  some  arches  of  which — at  the  back — were  seen  a 
lawn  and  the  orchard  in  which  Hamlet's  father  had  been 
poisoned.  Objection  was  made  to  this  change,  inasmuch  as 
Hamlet's  injunction,  '  Let  the  door  be  locked,'  is  rendered 
unintelligible,  but,  on  the  other  hand,  the  idea  of  having  the 
punishment  of  the  murderer  meted  out  to  him  within  sight  of 
the  scene  of  his  crime  was  singularly  happy. 

'  The  intelligent  manner  in  which  the  tragedy  was  pro- 
duced, in  regard  to  its  stage-management  and  its  decoration, 
received  high  praise  in  all  quarters,  In  regard  to  costume, 


280    THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xvn. 

the  task  was  attended  with  considerable  difficulty.  Hamlet, 
it  may  be  presumed,  lived  in  the  fifth  or  sixth  century.  Yet 
the  story  is  treated  by  the  dramatist  as  one  of  the  Elizabethan 
age  and  with  a  fine  disregard  for  local  colouring  or  historical 
accuracy.  The  personages  in  the  play  talk  and  think  in  an 
Elizabethan  style ;  Hamlet  himself  is  an  incarnation  of  the 
intellectual  agitation  to  which  the  Reformation  gave  rise,  and 
cannon  and  other  instruments  of  modern  warfare  are  alluded 
to.  The  Danish  costume  of  the  dark  ages  was  far  from 
picturesque,  and  the  adoption  for  this  revival  of  dresses  of  a 
sixteenth  century  character  was  the  wiser  of  two  courses. 
These  costumes,  it  need  hardly  be  said,  were  in  good  taste 
and  agreeable  contrast.  The  scenery,  without  being  pre- 
tentious, marked  a  distinct  advance  in  the  decoration  of  the 
stage.  Two  scenes  were  especially  beautiful.  The  first  was 
that  in  which  the  ghost  makes  the  revelation  to  Hamlet. 
The  Prince  of  Denmark  has  followed  the  spirit  of  his  father  to 

The  dreadful  summit  of  the  cliff, 
That  beetles  o'er  his  base  into  the  sea. 

Standing  among  a  number  of  massive  rocks,  the  ghost  pro- 
ceeds with  the  supernatural  impartment.  The  soft  light  of 
the  moon  falls  upon  the  spectral  figure ;  not  a  sound  from 
below  can  be  heard ;  the  first  faint  flashes  of  the  dawn  are 
stealing  over  the  immense  expanse  of  water  before  us.  The 
weird  grandeur  of  the  scene  can  hardly  be  appreciated  from 
description.  Equally  striking  in  its  way  is  that  of  the  burial 
of  Ophelia.  The  churchyard  is  on  a  hill  near  the  palace,  and, 
as  night  comes  on,  the  funeral  procession  winds  slowly  up  the 
ascent.  Never  before  have  the  'maimed  rites'  been  so 
exactly  and  impressively  performed.  The  scene  in  the 
battlements  at  Elsinore,  with  the  illuminated  windows  of  the 
palace  in  the  background,  and  the  star  alluded  to  by  Bernardo 
glistening  in  the  northern  sky,  is  also  very  satisfactory."  Mr. 
Marshall,  in  his  Preface,  claimed  for  Henry  Irving  that, 
"without  attempting  to  overburden  the  play  with  spectacular 

1  The  Theatre,  February,*  1879. 


From  the  picture  by  Edward  H.  Bell. 

HENRY  IRVING  AS  HAMLET. 

Miss  ELLEN  TERRY  AS  OPHELIA. 

1879. 


1878]       "I  FEEL  NOW  LIKE  A  CHILD"          281 

effect,  and  to  smother  the  poet  under  a  mass  of  decoration," 
he  had  "  endeavoured  to  obtain  as  much  assistance  from  the 
scene-painter's  art  as  the  poet's  own  description  may  seem  to 
justify  ".  It  was  generally  admitted  that  this  object  had  been 
attained  at  the  Lyceum :  the  scenery,  like  every  other 
accessory,  aiding  the  imagination,  instead  of  disturbing  it. 

On  the  first  night  of  the  revival,  the  new  actor-manager, 
in  response  to  what  was  described  in  the  Press  of  the  follow- 
ing day  as  "the  most  enthusiastic  summons  ever  probably 
accorded  to  an  actor,"  spoke  a  few  words  to  the  audience. 
"  I  cannot  allow  this  event  to  pass,"  he  said,  "  without  telling 
you  how  much  I  thank  you  for  the  way  in  which  you  have 
received  our  efforts.  As  long  as  I  am  lessee  here,  rest  as- 
sured I  shall  do  my  utmost  for  the  elevation  of  my  art,  and  to 
increase  your  comfort.  In  the  name  of  one  and  all  con- 
cerned in  the  production  of  this  piece,  I  thank  you  from  my 
soul.  To  produce  the  *  Hamlet'  of  to-night  I  have  worked 
all  my  life  ;  and  I  rejoice  to  think  that  my  work  has  not  been 
in  vain.  You  have  attested  in  a  way  that  goes  quickest  to 
the  actor's  heart  that  you  have  been  satisfied.  When  the 
heart  is  full,  the  weakness  of  man's  nature  manifests  itself,  and 
I  feel  now  like  a  child."1  That  the  revival  was  successful  in 
a  popular,  as  well  as  in  an  artistic  sense,  goes  without  saying. 
One  hundred  and  eight  representations  were  given  through- 
out the  season,  and  of  these  eighty-eight  were  consecutive. 

During  the  run  of  "  Hamlet,"  two  interesting  events 
occurred.  One  of  these  was  the  sudden  closing  of  Drury 
Lane  Theatre  early  in  February.  The  pantomime  at  that 
house  depended,  for  several  seasons,  very  largely,  if  not 
entirely,  on  the  popularity  of  a  famous  troupe  of  pantomimists 
and  dancers — the  Yokes  Family.  One  of  the  most  favourite 
members  of  the  little  company,  Miss  Rosina  Yokes,  had  lately 
retired  from  the  troupe,  and  it  was  thought,  doubtless  with 

1  "  Do  Richard  the  Second,"  shouted  someone  in  the  pit  while  this 
speech  was  being  made.  Oddly  enough,  Irving  never  produced  "  Richard 
II."  although,  as  will  be  seen  hereafter,  he  had  it  in  preparation  for  pro- 
duction at  the  Lyceum. 


282    THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAR  xvn. 

some  foundation  of  fact,  that  the  public  had  "  tired  of  seeing 
Mr.  Fred  Yokes  throw  his  legs  at  the  heads  of  his  sisters, 
Victoria  and  Jessie".  This  was  true,  to  a  certain  extent,  but 
the  real  reason  for  the  disastrous  failure  was  due  to  causes  un- 
connected with  the  pantomime  of  "  Cinderella  ".  In  October, 
F.  B.  Chatter  ton — the  manager  who  had  pronounced  the 
famous  dictum  that  "  Shakespeare  spells  ruin  "-—had  re-opened 
Old  Drury  with  "The  Winter's  Tale".  The  play  was 
elaborately,  but  not  artistically,  mounted,  and  the  performance 
generally  was  "deficient  in  histrionic  aptitude  and  intellectu- 
ality ".  The  sequel  was  found  in  the  sudden  closing  of  the 
theatre,  "  to  the  surprise  of  most  of  the  members  of  the  company 
and  to  the  dismay  of  all "  when  the  pantomime,  in  the  ordinary 
course  of  events,  would  have  had  at  least  three  more  weeks 
to  run.  This  premature  closing  was  followed  by  the  petition 
of  the  lessee  and  manager  for  the  liquidation  of  his  affairs,  the 
amount  of  his  debts  being  roughly  estimated  at  ,£40,000,  as 
against  assets  which  were  practically  nil  consisting  as  they  did 
chiefly,  if  not  entirely,  of  copyright  dramatic  manuscripts. 
This  failure,  the  primary  cause  of  which  was  the  unpopularity 
of  "The  Winter's  Tale,"  was  not  very  encouraging  to  a 
manager  who  relied  very  largely  on  Shakespeare  for  his 
attraction.  Still,  it  was  a  lesson  by  which  he  profited. 

The  other  event  was  of  a  more  gratifying  nature.  The 
night  of  24th  February  was  set  aside  for  the  benefit  and  last 
appearance  at  the  Lyceum  of  W.  H.  Chippendale,  the  Polonius 
of  the  cast,  an  admirable  actor  of  "old  men".  Indeed,  he 
seemed  expressly  destined  to  represent  the  old  gentlemen  of 
comedy  of  the  eighteenth  century  plays,  and  for  many  years 
he  divided  the  honours  of  Sir  Peter  Teazle  with  Samuel  Phelps. 
He  could  also  grasp  the  nicest  shades  of  character  in  Shake- 
spearean comedy:  his  Adam  in  "As  You  Like  It"  was  an 
artistic  and  touching  performance.  He  was  originally  em- 
ployed in  the  office  of  the  famous  printer,  James  Ballantyne ; 
Walter  Scott,  who  knew  his  father  well,  would  pat  him 
on  the  head  and  call  him  "a  chip  of  the  old  block".  He 
went  on  the  stage  in  1819,  and,  after  a  lucrative  tour  in 


1 879]        "ELEANOR  AND  ROSAMOND"  283 

America,  appeared  at  the  Hay  market  in  1853.  When  he 
took  his  farewell  of  the  public  at  the  Lyceum,  the  programme 
stated  that  "  The  entire  receipts  will  be  given  to  Mr.  Chippen- 
dale, who,  after  a  career  of  sixty-eight  years  upon  the  stage, 
will  on  this  occasion  bid  good-bye  to  the  public  he  has  so 
faithfully  served.  The  Ladies  and  Gentlemen  of  the  Dramatic 
Company  of  the  Lyceum  have  on  this  occasion  one  and  all 
gracefully  tendered  their  services  ".  The  proceeds  of  the  per- 
formance, amounting  to  nearly  ^300,  were  presented  to  him 
without  any  deduction — "a  princely,  and,  I  believe,  unpre- 
cedented gift,"  said  the  veteran  player  in  his  address  to  the 
audience,  "from  a  young  actor  to  an  old  one,  and  enhanced 
in  value  by  the  delicate  and  graceful  manner  in  which  the 
whole  thing  has  been  managed  by  him  ".  Another  announce- 
ment made  at  this  time  is  somewhat  curious  reading — "  Mr. 
Tennyson  has  written  for  the  Lyceum  a  new  play  in  five  acts, 
and  in  verse,  entitled  'Eleanor  and  Rosamond'."  Twenty- 
four  years  were  to  pass  before  Henry  Irving  produced  this 
play.  It  is  curious  to  reflect  that  he  had  the  character  of 
Becket,  in  which  he  may  be  said  to  have  died,  in  his  mind  for 
all  those  years. 

Irving's  next  excursion  took  him  into  the  artificial  land  of 
"The  Lady  of  Lyons" — a  managerial  mistake  which  can 
only  be  attributed  to  the  fact  that  he  had  played  Claude 
Melnotte  before  and  wished  to  do  so  again.  For  this  drama 
is  opposed  to  all  natural  acting.  Unless  it  is  played  in  bom- 
bastic style,  it  has  no  attraction.  Besides,  its  sentiment  is 
very  unreal,  not  to  say  mawkish.  However,  Macready  was 
a  good  precedent.  Accordingly,  on  i7th  April,  Lytton's  play 
was  presented  at  the  Lyceum.  For  a  description  of  its  re- 
ception, we  may  take  the  evidence  of  the  Daily  Telegraph : 
"No  applause  could  have  been  more  vigorous,  and  no  out- 
ward marks  of  appreciation  more  complimentary.  When  it 
became  known  to  those  well-trained  in  the  observation  of 
such  matters,  that  the  old  play  had  won  a  gorgeously 
decorated  frame,  but  had  not  lost  its  spirit  and  buoyancy, 
the  cheers  came  down  with  redoubled  vigour,  the  principal 


284    THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  XVIL 

actors  were  called  again  and  again,  twice  or  three  times  the 
curtain  was  drawn  up  at  the  bidding  of  the  public,  and  the 
evening  was  not  allowed  to  close  without  one  of  those  speeches 
wrung  from  a  favourite  actor,  as  an  answer  to  so  cordial  an 
expression  of  friendliness  and  kind  feeling.  There  was  no 
need  for  Mr.  Irving  to  apologise  for  any  shortcomings  on  the 
part  of  the  management,  or  any  feeble  efforts  or  mistakes 
incidental  to  a  first  representation,  for  probably — nay,  certainly 
—the  playgoers  of  our  time  have  never  seen  '  The  Lady  of 


THE  LADY  OF  LYONS. 

Revived  at  the  Lyceum,  lyth  April,  1879. 


CLAUDE  MELNOTTE 
COLONEL  DAMAS 
BEAUSEANT      ... 
GLAVIS    --.. 
MONSIEUR  DESCHAPPELLES 
LANDLORD       - 
GASPAR   - 
CAPTAIN  GERVAISE 
CAPTAIN  DUPONT    - 
MAJOR  DESMOULINS 
NOTARY  - 

SERVANT          ... 
SERVANT          ... 
MADAME  DESCHAPPELLES 
WIDOW  MELNOTTE 
JANET     - 
MARIAN  - 
PAULINE  - 


Mr.  IRVING. 
Mr.  WALTER  LACY. 
Mr.  FORRESTER. 
Mr.  KYRLE  BELLEW. 
Mr.  C.  COOPER. 
Mr.  S.  JOHNSON. 
Mr.  TYARS. 
Mr.  ELWOOD. 
Mr.  CARTWRIGHT. 
Mr.  ANDREWS. 
Mr.  TAPPING. 
Mr.  BRANSCOMBE. 
Mr.  HOLLAND. 
Mrs.  CHIPPENDALE. 
Miss  PAUNCEFORT. 
Miss  MAY  SEDLEY. 
Miss  HARWOOD. 
Miss  ELLEN  TERRY. 


ACT  I.,  SCENE  i.  A  room  in  the  house  of  M.  Deschappelles ; 
SCENE  2.  The  exterior  of  "  The  Golden  Lion  "  ;  SCENE  3. 
The  interior  of  Melnotte's  Cottage.  ACT  II.,  SCENE.  The 
Gardens  of  M.  Deschappelles.  ACT  III.,  SCENE  i.  The 
exterior  of  "The  Golden  Lion";  SCENE  2.  The  interior  of 
Melnotte's  Cottage.  ACT  IV.,  SCENE.  The  cottage  as  before. 
ACT  V.  (Two  and  a  half  years  are  supposed  to  have  elapsed.) 
SCENE  i.  A  street  in  Lyons ;  SCENE  2.  A  room  in  the  house 
of  M.  Deschappelles. 


Lyons'  placed  before  them  with  such  scrupulous  care  and 
exactness  in  the  smallest  detail.  Even  those  who  are  un- 
affectedly weary  of  the  old-fashioned  sentiment  of  the  play, 
and  are  bold  enough  to  have  formed  a  very  decided  opinion 
on  the  characteristic  of  Claude  and  the  pride  of  Pauline,  can 
gaze  contentedly  at  faultless  pictures,  at  costume  raised  to 
the  dignity  of  an  art,  if  occasionally  astonishing  in  its  accuracy, 


1879]  CLAUDE  AND  PAULINE  285 

and  at  innumerable  graces  of  arrangement  and  movement, 
which  please  the  eye  when  the  ear  is  out  of  tune  with  the 
passion." 

The  same  paper  analysed  the  acting  at  length,  and  asked 
"  Where,  then,  was  the  pride  of  the  new  Pauline,  where  were 
her  indignation,  her  remorse,  and  her  scorn  ?  They  were  not 
there,  and,  apparently,  they  were  not  wanted.  Fascinated 
by  the  picturesque  appearance  of  the  actress,  and  watching 
her  power  of  assimilating  herself  to  the  decoration  of  the 
scene,  the  audience  was  content  to  accept  for  the  proud 
Pauline,  a  tender,  tearful,  and  sympathetic  lady,  who  has  no 
heart  to  rail,  and  no  strength  to  curse.  .  .  .  The  tenderly 
fragile,  the  constantly  fainting,  and  tearfully  pathetic  Pauline 
of  Miss  Ellen  Terry  will  not  surprise  more  than  the  deeply 
tragic,  absorbed,  and  highly  nervous  Claude  Melnotte  of 
Mr.  Henry  Irving.  He  brings  to  bear  all  the  weight  of  his 
intelligence,  his  reflection,  and  the  depth  of  his  earnestness 
upon  a  character  that  is  directly  antagonistic  to  the  sombre- 
ness  of  his  manner  and  to  the  accepted  peculiarities  of  his 
style.  If  the  Pauline  of  Miss  Ellen  Terry  is  overcharged 
with  fantastic  sentiment,  the  Claude  of  Mr.  Irving  is  over- 
whelmed with  an  abiding  sorrow."  It  required,  indeed,  high 
moral  courage  on  the  part  of  the  actor  to  appear  as  Claude 
Melnotte  at  this  stage  of  his  career.  From  a  theatrical  point 
of  view,  the  character  of  the  gardener's  son  is  inferior  to  that 
of  the  woman  upon  whom  he  imposes,  especially  when  Pauline 
is  presented  by  an  actress  of  rare  gifts  and  the  charm  of 
youth.  The  part  was  unsuited,  in  every  way,  to  Henry 
Irving.  "The  Lady  of  Lyons"  was  played  for  forty -one 
nights,  and,  during  the  last  two  months  of  the  season,  four 
additional  performances  were  given.  After  June,  1879,  it 
was  a  closed  book  to  Henry  Irving. 

These  months  were  devoted  to  a  series  of  interesting 
revivals—"  Louis  XI,"  "  Hamlet,"  "  Charles  the  First,"  "  The 
Lady  of  Lyons,"  "The  Lyons  Mail,"  "The  Bells,"  "  Eugene 
Aram,"  and  "Richelieu,"  in  the  order  named.  On  25th 
July,  the  last  night  but  one  of  the  season,  Irving  gave  a  re- 


286     THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xvn. 

markable  proof  of  his  versatility  by  acting  six  characters  of 
great  divergence — Richard  III.  in  the  first  act  of  the  tragedy  ; 
Richelieu,  in  the  fourth  act  of  the  play  ;  Charles  the  First, 
in  the  last  act;  Louis  XI.  in  the  third  act;  Hamlet,  in  the 
third  act ;  and  Jeremy  Diddler,  in  "  Raising  the  Wind ". 
Such  an  occasion,  of  course,  could  not  be  allowed  to  pass  with- 
out a  speech.  The  demand  was,  on  this  occasion,  eminently 
fit  and  proper,  for  Irving  had  now  completed  the  first  seven 
months  of  his  management  of  the  Lyceum,  and  the  occasion 
was  one  of  unusual  interest  to  the  audience.  The  speech  is 
interesting  to  look  back  upon,  for  it  includes  mention  of  the 
preparations  for  one  Shakespearean  piece  which  he  did  not 
produce  until  twenty-three  years  later  and  of  one  play  which 
he  never  acted.  He  said  : — 

"  I  cannot  resist  the  temptation  of  saying  a  few  words 
to  you  to-night,  for  when  last  I  had  the  honour  of  speaking 
to  you  at  the  commencement  of  my  management,  your 
sympathy  and  generous  approval  gave  me  vast  hopes— 
which  hopes  have  been  almost  realised,  for  at  the  close 
of  my  first  season  I  can  tell  you  of  an  achieved  and  distinct 
success.  The  friendship,  Ladies  and  Gentlemen,  which  ex- 
ists between  us,  and  which  I  have  the  inestimable  privilege 
of  enjoying,  is  not  a  thing  of  to-day,  or  yesterday,  or  a  year 
ago.  For  nearly  eight  years  we  have  met  in  this  theatre, 
and  the  eloquence  of  your  faces  and  of  your  applause  has 
thrilled  me  again  and  again.  You  will  not,  therefore,  I  am 
sure,  consider  it  as  springing  from  any  vain  feeling  on  my 
part,  when  I  tell  you  the  receipts  of  this  theatre  during  the 
past  seven  months.  We  have  taken  at  the  doors,  since  we 
opened  on  the  3Oth  December,  the  large  sum  of  ^36,00x5. 
I  can  give  you  no  better  proof  than  this  of  your  generous 
appreciation  of  our  work.  To-night  I  have  chosen  to  appear 
before  you  not  in  one  character,  but  in  six,  for  each  part  has 
been  associated  with  so  much  pleasure,  so  many  kindly  wishes 
from  you,  and  such  sympathetic  recognition,  that  I  wished, 
before  taking  my  first  real  holiday  for  a  long  time,  to  renew 
in  one  night  some  of  the  memories  of  many.  I  should  like 


1879]  A  LAST-NIGHT  SPEECH  287 

to  have  played  half  a  dozen  other  characters,  but  was  warned 
that  five  hours  would  tax  even  your  patience,  so  I  reluctantly 
consented  to  the  short  programme  I  have  set  before  you. 
My  next  season,  Ladies  and  Gentlemen,  if  all  be  well,  will 
be  a  longer  one  than  the  past  has  been.  To  stay  amongst 
you  I  have  forgone  all  engagements  out  of  London,  and  I 
intend  to  begin  again  here  on  Saturday,  2Oth  of  September, 
eight  weeks  from  to-morrow.  I  shall  try  my  utmost  to  con- 
tinue in  your  favour,  and  I  have  such  belief  in  your  judgment 
that  I  feel  the  way  to  get  and  keep  that  favour  is  to  deserve 
it.  The  germ  of  the  future  we  should  seek  in  the  past,  and 
I  mean  that  the  future  of  my  management  shall  profit  by  the 
experience  I  have  lately  gained.  The  lesson  that  I  have 
learned  is  that  frequent  change  in  a  theatre  is  a  desirable 
element — an  element  gratefully  accepted  by  the  public,  and 
perhaps  even  more  gratefully  by  the  actors ;  and  during  the 
coming  time  I  shall  endeavour  to  put  before  you  such  pieces 
as  I  believe  you  desire,  and  which  will  give  you  pleasure. 
For  a  week  or  two  after  our  opening  we  shall  play  '  Hamlet' 
once  during  the  week,  and  that  will  be  continued  as  long 
as  you  come  to  see  it.  That  this  is  not  a  rash  resolve  you 
will  believe  when  I  tell  you  that  during  the  past  seven 
months  we  have  acted  'Hamlet'  one  hundred  and  eight 
times,  and  each  time  to  an  overflowing  house.  During  the 
first  week  of  my  campaign,  I  shall  present  to  you  Colman's 
play  of  'The  Iron  Chest,'  in  which  I  shall  have  the  temerity 
to  attempt  a  celebrated  character  of  Edmund  K can's — Sir 
Edward  Mortimer.  This  drama  I  shall  produce  with  much 
of  the  old  music,  and  I  shall  try  to  show  you  what  our  fore- 
fathers delighted  in.  With  this  play  I  shall  occasionally 
revive  some  of  your  old  favourites,  and  so  give  time  for  the 
preparation  of  one  of  our  master's  master-plays — '  Coriolanus ' 
—in  the  production  of  which  I  shall  have  the  invaluable  bene- 
fit of  the  research  of  that  gifted  painter,  Mr.  Alma  Tadema. 
Of  other  kinds  of  work,  I  have  a  store,  and  two  original  plays 
ready,  one  of  which  has  already  excited  much  interest — I 
mean  Mr.  Frank  Marshall's  drama  founded  on  the  romantic 


288    THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  XVIL 

and  pathetic  story  of  Robert  Emmet.  And  so,  Ladies  and 
Gentlemen,  I  trust  that  next  season  our  boat  will  '  sail  freely 
both  with  wind  and  stream'.  I  am  reluctant  to  leave  you, 
for  almost  my  happiest  hours  are  spent  in  your  company,  but 
as  I  have  still  to  *  raise  the  wind '  to-night,  I  must  bring  these 
parting  words  to  an  end.  In  the  names  of  one  and  all  be- 
hind our  curtain  I  thank  you  for  your  past  kindness,  and  in 
eight  weeks'  time,  when  we  meet  again,  I  hope  you  will  see 
me  once  more  sustained  by  new  hopes  and  old  remem- 
brances." 

It  may  be  observed  that  Miss  Ellen  Terry  acted,  during 
her  first  engagement  at  the  Lyceum,  in  addition  to  Ophelia 
and  Pauline,  Lady  Anne,  Ruth  Meadows  (in  "  Eugene 
Aram "),  and  the  Queen  in  " Charles  the  First ".  "The  Lady 
of  Lyons,"  by  the  way,  was  preceded  by  the  old  farce,  "  High 
Life  Below  Stairs,"  in  which  Mr.  Kyrle  Bellew,  Mr.  Pinero, 
and  Miss  Alma  Murray  played.  The  latter  actress  made 
her  first  appearance  at  the  Lyceum  on  I3th  June,  as  Julie  to 
Irving's  Richelieu,  and  created  a  most  favourable  impression. 
The  season  terminated  on  26th  July,  "  Eugene  Aram"  and 
"Raising  the  Wind"  constituting  the  bill.  The  receipts  for 
the  last  night  were  ^396  8s.  lod.  The  sale  of  the  books  of 
the  Lyceum  version  of  "  Hamlet"  brought  in  ^307  75.  and 
the  performances  were  witnessed  by  204,334  people.  "  Ham- 
let" was  seen  twice,  in  January,  by  Mr.  Gladstone. 

In  addition  to  the  Chippendale  testimonial  performance, 
there  were  two  matine'es  of  exceptional  interest,  apart  from 
the  regular  programme,  during  the  first  season  of  Henry 
Irving's  management.  On  2Qth  May,  a  benefit  was  given 
to  Henry  Marston  (1804-1883),  a  valued  actor  of  the  old 
days,  who  had  fallen  into  ill-health  in  his  declining  years. 
The  proceedings  opened  with  a  " classical  comedietta"  en- 
titled "  All  is  Vanity,"  an  adaptation  by  Alfred  Thompson 
from  "  La  Revanche  d'Iris,"  originally  produced  at  the  Prince 
of  Wales's  Theatre,  Liverpool,  in  the  summer  of  1878,  with 
Miss  Ellen  Terry  as  Iris  and  Mr.  Charles  Kelly,  her  husband, 
as  Diogenes.  Miss  Terry  and  Mr.  Kelly  resumed  these 


1 879]  DISTINGUISHED  VISITORS  289 

parts  at  the  Lyceum.  "  Much  Ado  About  Nothing,"  with 
Mr.  W.  H.  Kendal  as  Benedick,  Miss  Henrietta  Hodson  as 
Beatrice,  Mr.  Edward  Terry  as  Dogberry,  and  other  well- 
known  actors  in  the  cast,  was  given.  Another  interesting 
morning  performance — for  a  hospital  charity — which  was  given 
on  24th  June,  introduced  the  second  act  of  Robertson's  comedy, 
"Ours,"  to  the  Lyceum  stage,  interpreted  by  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Bancroft  (as  they  then  were),  the  late  Arthur  Cecil,  the  late 
John  Clayton,  Mr.  H.  B.  Conway,  the  late  Miss  Le  Thiere, 
and  the  late  Amy  Roselle.  The  second  and  fourth  acts  of 
"Charles  the  First,"  with  Irving  as  Charles  and  Miss  Ellen 
Terry  as  the  Queen,  were  given,  and  the  performance  con- 
cluded with  "Cox  and  Box,"  conducted  by  the  composer, 
Arthur  Sullivan.  Arthur  Cecil  was  the  Box,  Corney  Grain 
the  Sergeant  Bouncer,  and  Mr.  George  Grossmith — now  the 
Elder,  then  the  Younger — the  Cox.  "  Cox  and  Box,"  by 
the  way,  has  an  intimate  association  with  the  Lyceum  stage 
inasmuch  as  the  original  "  Box  and  Cox"  was  produced  there 
on  ist  November,  1847.  The  farce  was  adapted  from  the 
French — "Frisette"  and  "La  Chambre  a  Deux  Lits"-— by 
J.  Maddison  Morton,  "  with  the  evident  purpose  of  giving  Mr. 
Buckstone  and  Mr.  Harley  some  special  fun  to  enact  "-—the 
former  being  the  Box,  the  latter  the  Cox.  In  1866,  Mr. 
(now  Sir)  F.  C.  Burnand  took  Maddison  Morton's  "book" 
in  hand  with  a  view  to  adapting  it  to  the  musical  requirements 
of  Arthur  Sullivan.  The  names  in  the  title  of  the  old  farce 
were  reversed,  and  "Cox  and  Box"  is  still  played  at  benefits 
by  amateurs.  So  that  this  "amusing  interlude,"  as  it  was 
called  in  1847,  has  held  the  stage  for  over  sixty  years. 

During  June  and  July,  the  Gaiety  Theatre  was  occupied 
by  the  entire  company  from  the  Theatre  Frangais,  an  event 
of  great  importance  in  the  dramatic  world,  for  the  Comedie 
Franchise  then  included  M.  Got,  M.  Delaunay,  M.  Coquelin, 
M.  Mounet  Sully,  Mile.  Croizette,  Mile.  Samary,  and,  last 
but  not  least,  "Mile."  Bernhardt — she  was  so  styled  on  the 
bills.  Their  performances  attracted  the  greatest  attention, 

and,  not  unnaturally,  Henry  Irving's  experiment  at  the  Lyceum 
VOL.  i.  19 


29o    THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xvn. 

came  in  for  comparison  with  the  representations  given  by  the 
members  of  the  House  of  Moliere:  "Side  by  side  with  the 
performances  of  the  most  perfectly  organised  and  the  most 
richly  endowed  dramatic  company  in  the  world,  we  have  the 
opportunity  of  witnessing  the  result  of  some  eight  or  nine 
years'  labour  on  the  part  of  a  single  actor  to  revive,  not  the 
interest  of  a  select  circle  of  dilettanti,  but  the  practical  sym- 
pathy of  the  general  public  of  this  country  in  the  higher  forms 
of  the  drama.  First,  as  the  employe  of  a  most  shrewd  and 
able  manager,  next  as  the  virtual  partner  in  management, 
lastly  as  sole  and  autocratic  manager  himself,  Mr.  Irving  has 
had  the  opportunity  of  working  in  the  service  of  an  art  which 
he  loves,  and  for  an  end  which,  from  the  commencement  of 
his  career,  among  countless  discouragements  and  in  spite  of 
frequent  disappointments,  he  has  always  kept  in  view.  We 
cannot  help  thinking  that  a  fair  comparison  of  the  services 
rendered  to  art  by  Mr.  Irving  and  the  Com^die  Frangaise 
will  not  be  unfavourable  to  the  former,  and  will  reassure  those 
lovers  of  the  drama  in  England  whom  the  visit  of  our  talented 
guests  may  have  somewhat  disconcerted." 

Many  of  these  "guests"  were  made  welcome  at  the 
Lyceum.  So,  also,  were  some  writers  who  came  in  their  train. 
These  writers,  not  knowing  English,  were  unable  to  ap- 
preciate Irving  in  all  his  parts,  but  Richelieu  and  Louis  XL, 
being  familiar  to  them,  were  understood.  The  great  theatrical 
critic,  the  late  Francisque  Sarcey,  saw  Irving  in  the  latter 
character.  "  He  is  a  master,"  he  wrote,  "  of  the  art  of  dressing 
and  making  up  for  a  character.  His  Louis  XI.  seems  like  a 
portrait  of  the  time  detached  from  its  frame.  The  whole  of  the 
first  part  of  Louis  XI.  is  played  in  a  sober  and  very  animated 
style.  In  the  second,  I  thought  he  went  too  far  in  seeking  for 
realistic  effects.  Thus,  whe.n  Nemours  leaves  him  with  his 
life,  he  remains  for  some  time  with  his  face  on  the  ground, 
uttering  inarticulate  cries.  At  times,  with  his  bursts  of  true 
passion,  and  his  bizarre  eccentricities,  he  reminds  one  of 
Rouviere,  over  whom  he  has  the  advantage  of  being  elegant 
and  proud  of  aspect.  His  face  is  mobile  and  animated  ;  his 


FRENCH  CRITICISM  291 

smile  is  very  pleasing.  His  hands  are  graceful  and  speaking, 
and  are  used  on  the  stage  with  great  skill.  In  the  last  act, 
when  he  appears  in  all  the  paraphernalia  of  royalty,  and, 
awaking  from  a  sort  of  trance,  rises  up  and  stretches  out  his 
trembling  fingers  to  pluck  the  crown  from  the  Dauphin,  the 
attitude  is  superb,  and  a  painter  who  was  with  me  at  the  time 
gave  vent  to  a  cry  of  admiration." 

Another  eminent  French  critic,  M.  Jules  Claretie — now 
the  adminstrator  of  the  Comedie  Franchise — saw  Irving  as 
Richelieu,  Hamlet,  and  Louis  XL  "The  name  of  M.  Henry 
Irving,"  he  wrote,  "must  be  added  to  the  last  of  the  greatest 
actors  who  have  graced  the  English  stage.  The  production 
of  *  The  Bells '  marks  an  important  turning-point  in  his  career. 
Down  to  that  time,  he  had  been  simply  applauded  ;  since  then, 
he  has  been  received  with  enthusiasm.  The  truth  is  that  he 
possesses  considerable  tragic  power,  joined  to  a  perseverance 
and  a  love  of  his  art,  in  which  but  few  could  have  equalled  him. 
.  .  .  '  Richelieu '  was  the  first  play  in  which  I  saw  M.  Irving. 
Here  he  is  superb.  The  performance  amounts  to  a  resur- 
rection. The  great  Cardinal,  lean,  worn,  eaten  up  with  am- 
bition, less  for  himself  than  for  France,  is  admirably  rendered. 
His  gait  is  jerky,  like  that  of  a  man  shaken  by  fever  ;  his  eye 
has  the  depth  of  a  visionary's  ;  a  hoarse  cough  preys  upon 
that  feeble  frame.  When  Richelieu  appears  in  the  midst  of  the 
courtiers,  when  he  flings  his  scorn  in  the  face  of  the  mediocrity 
that  is  to  succeed  him,  when  he  supplicates  and  adjures  the 
vacillating  Louis  XIII.,  M.  Irving  endows  that  fine  figure 
with  a  striking  majesty. 

"  What  a  profound  artist  this  tragedian  is  !  The  perform- 
ance over,  I  was  taken  to  see  him  in  his  dressing-room.  I 
found  him  surrounded  by  portraits  of  Richelieu.  He  had 
before  him  the  three  studies  of  Philippe  de  Champaigne,  one 
representing  Richelieu  in  full  face,  and  the  others  in  profile. 
There  was  also  a  photograph  of  the  same  painter's  full  length 
portrait  of  the  Cardinal.  When  he  plays  Louis  XL  M. 
Irving  studies  Comines,  Victor  Hugo,  Walter  Scott,  and  all 

who  have  written  of  the  bourgeois  and  avaricious  king,  who 

19* 


292     THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xvn. 

wore  out  the  elbows  of  his  '  pourpoint  de  ratine '  on  the  tables 
of  his  gossips,  the  skindressers  and  shoemakers.  The  actor 
is  an  adept  in  the  art  of  face-painting,  and  attaches  great  im- 
portance to  the  slightest  details  of  his  costume. 

"  M.  Irving  is  as  agreeable  off  the  stage  as  he  is  upon  it. 
His  dressing-room,  with  the  pictures  it  contains  and  the 
hospitality  which  awaits  visitors  thereto,  reminds  one  of  the 
'  loge  artistique '  which  the  novel  of  Madame  Sand,  '  Pierre  qui 
Roule,'  or  the  famous  drama  of  Alexandre  Dumas,  '  Kean,' 
presents  to  the  imagination.  In  this  case,  however,  we  must 
not  add  the  second  title  of  the  play  referred  to,  '  D6sordre 
et  Genie'.  In  the  society  of  M.  Irving,  you  feel  under  the 
inspiration  of  a  lettered  artist  and  gentleman. 

"  M.  Irving's  literary  and  subtle  mind  leans  to  psychological 
plays,  plays  which,  if  I  may  so  express  myself,  are  more  tragic 
than  dramatic ;  he  is  the  true  Shakespearean  actor.  '  Richelieu,' 
a  work  of  but  little  value  and  false  to  history,  acquires  vitality 
in  his  hands  ;  he  draws  it  up  to  his  own  level.  The  same  is 
the  case  with  'The  Bells'  and  'The  Lyons  Mail'.  Mathias 
has  the  deep  remorse  of  a  Macbeth  ;  the  destiny  which  governs 
Hamlet  weights  over  the  head  of  Lesurques.  How  great  was 
the  pleasure  which  the  performances  of  Hamlet  afforded  me  ! 
The  spectre  appears  with  effects  of  electric  light  under  the 
stars.  The  interior  of  the  palace,  with  its  Roman  columns, 
the  flags  suspended  from  the  arches,  the  raised  throne  and  the 
tiger  skins  which  lie  about  it,  and  lastly,  the  taste  and  variety 
of  the  costumes,  bring  to  mind  some  of  the  pictures  from  the 
easels  of  Alma  Tadema  and  Jean  Paul  Laurens.  The 
courtiers  bow  to  the  King ;  Polonius  bends  under  the  weight 
of  age ;  the  guards  are  in  mail.  In  the  midst  of  these 
splendours  Hamlet  appears,  superb,  pale,  borne  down  by  a 
great  sorrow.  M.  Irving  is  admirable  in  the  play  and  death 
scenes  ;  in  the  latter  it  seems  as  though  he  saw  his  father  again 
in  the  depths  of  the  infinite.  The  scene  of  the  burial  of 
Ophelia — the  representative  of  whom,  Miss  Ellen  Terry, 
would  be  taken  by  one  for  a  pre-Raphaelite  apparition,  for  a 
living  model  of  Giovanni  Bellini — is  put  on  the  stage  with 


'9]      SARAH  BERNHARDT  WELCOMED      293 

remarkable  completeness.  Here,  again,  is  a  picture  which 
Laurens  might  have  painted.  I  have  never  seen  anything  so 
deeply,  tragically  true. 

"  In  *  Louis  XI.'  M.  Irving  has  been  adjudged  superior  to 
Ligier.  Dressed  with  historical  accuracy,  he  is  admirable  in 
the  comedy  element  of  the  piece  and  the  chief  scenes  with  the 
monk  and  Nemours.  The  limelight,  projected  like  a  ray  of 
the  moon  on  his  contracted  face  as  he  pleads  for  his  life,  excited 
nothing  less  than  terror.  The  hands,  lean  and  crooked  as 
those  of  a  Harpagon — the  fine  hands  whose  character  is 
changed  with  each  of  his  roles,  aid  his  words.  And  how  strik- 
ing in  its  realism  is  the  last  scene,  representing  the  struggle 
between  the  dying  king  and  his  fate !  In  a  word,  I  have  been 
much  struck  by  the  beautiful  acting  of  M.  Irving.  I  hope 
that  he  will  be  induced  to  play  in  Paris.  In  Shakespearean 
parts,  he  would  create  a  sensation — would  exercise  a  powerful 
influence  upon  many  men." 

Irving's  unfailing  courtesy  was  extended  to  Sarah  Bern- 
hardt,  when  she  first  came,  a  stranger  in  our  midst,  in  this  year, 
1879.  The  circumstances  are  thus  related  by  Madame  Bern- 
hardt  in  her  recently-published  autobiography  :  "  Everything 
looked  dark  and  dismal,  and  when  I  reached  the  house,  77 
Chester  Square,  I  did  not  want  to  get  out  of  my  carriage.  The 
door  of  the  house  was  wide  open,  though,  and  in  the  brilliantly 
lighted  hall  I  could  see  what  looked  like  all  the  flowers  on  earth 
arranged  in  baskets,  bouquets,  and  huge  bunches.  .  .  .  *  Have 
you  the  cards  that  came  with  all  these  flowers  ? '  I  asked  my 
man-servant.  '  Yes,'  he  replied,  *  I  have  put  them  together  on 
a  tray.  All  of  them  are  from  Paris,  from  Madame's  friends 
there.  This  is  the  only  bouquet  from  here/  He  handed  me 
an  enormous  one,  and  on  the  card  with  it  I  read  the  words, 
'Welcome,  Henry  Irving'." 

Irving,  as  it  may  be  readily  understood,  was  exceedingly 
busy  with  his  ordinary  work  during  this  season,  yet  he  found 
time  for  an  interview  with  a  representative  of  the  press,  on  the 
subject  of  his  audiences,  which  is  of  considerable  interest.  It 
was  suggested  that  in  his  case,  there  was  an  active  sympathy 


294     THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xvn. 

and  confidence  on  both  sides  of  the  footlights  that  was  practic- 
ally unique  in  the  history  of  acting.  * '  I  don't  know, "  he  replied, 
"  that  it  is  without  parallel ;  but  in  the  presence  of  my  audience 
I  feel  as  safe  and  content  as  sitting  down  with  an  old  friend." 
He  was  then  asked  if,  under  the  influence  of  an  audience,  he 
had  ever  altered  his  reading  of  a  part  during  a  first  representa- 
tion. "  Except  once,"  he  replied,  "  no  ;  I  can  always  tell  when 
the  audience  is  with  me.  It  was  not  with  me  in  '  Vander- 
decken,'  and  I  changed  the  last  scene.  Neither  was  it  on  the 
first  night  of  '  Hamlet'.  I  then  felt  that  the  audience  did  not 
go  with  me  until  the  first  meeting  with  Ophelia.  Now  I  know 
that  they  like  it — are  with  me,  heart  and  soul.  '  Hamlet'  has 
been  my  greatest  pecuniary  success.  Before  *  Hamlet,'  so 
far  as  regards  what  is  called  the  classic  and  legitimate  drama, 
my  successes,  such  as  they  were,  had  been  made  outside  it, 
really  in  eccentric  comedy.  As  a  rule,  actors  who  have 
appeared  for  the  first  time  in  London  in  such  parts  as 
Richard  III.,  Macbeth,  Hamlet,  and  Othello,  have  played 
them  previously  for  years  in  the  country.  My  audience  knew 
this,  and  I  am  sure  they  estimated  the  performance  accordingly, 
giving  me  their  special  sympathy  and  good  wishes.  I  believe 
in  the  justice  of  audiences  ;  they  are  sincere  and  hearty  in  their 
approval  of  what  they  like,  and  have  the  greatest  hand  in 
making  an  actor's  reputation.  Journalistic  power  cannot  be 
overvalued ;  it  is  enormous  :  but  in  regard  to  actors  it  is  a  re- 
markable fact  that  their  permanent  reputations,  the  final  and 
lasting  verdict  of  their  merits,  are  made  chiefly  by  their  aud- 
iences. I  am  quite  certain  within  twelve  hours  of  the  produc- 
tion of  a  new  play  of  any  importance  all  London  knows  whether 
the  piece  is  a  success  or  a  failure,  no  matter  whether  it  has  been 
noticed  in  the  papers  or  not.  Each  one  of  the  audience  is  the 
centre  of  a  little  coterie,  and  the  word  is  passed  on  from  one 
to  the  other. 

"  I  confess  I  am  happiest  in  the  presence  of  what  you  call 
the  regular  play -going  public.  I  am  apt  to  become  depressed 
on  a  first  night.  I  know  that  while  there  is  a  good  hearty 
crowd  who  have  come  to  be  pleased,  there  are  some  who  have 


1879]  A  WELL-WON  HOLIDAY  295 

not  come  to  be  pleased.  Audiences  are  intellectually  active, 
and  find  many  ways  of  showing  their  opinions.  One  night, 
in  *  Hamlet,'  something  was  thrown  on  the  stage  from  the 
gallery.  The  donor  was  a  sad-looking  woman,  evidently  very 
poor,  who  said  she  often  came  to  the  Lyceum  gallery,  and 
wanted  me  to  have  this  little  heirloom.  Here  it  is — an  old- 
fashioned  gold  cross.  On  both  sides  is  engraved  *  Faith,  Hope, 
and  Charity ' ;  on  the  obverse,  '  I  believe  in  the  forgiveness  of 
sins ' ;  and  on  the  reverse,  *  I  scorn  to  change  or  fear '.  They 
said  in  front  that  she  was  a  poor  mother  who  had  lost  her  son. 
At  Sheffield  one  night,  in  the  grouse  season,  a  man  in  the  gal- 
lery threw  a  brace  of  birds  on  the  stage  with  a  rough  note  of 
thanks  and  compliments,  and  one  of  the  pit  audience  sent  me 
round  a  knife  which  he  had  made  himself.  The  people  who 
do  these  things  have  nothing  to  gain  ;  they  judge  for  themselves, 
and  they  are  representative  of  that  great  public  opinion  which 
in  the  end  is  always  right.  When  they  are  against  you  it  is 
hard  at  the  time  to  be  convinced  that  you  are  wrong ;  but  you 


are." 


In  August,  1879,  Henry  Irving  had  been  before  the  public 
continuously  for  nearly  twenty- three  years.  In  all  that  time 
—as  readers  of  this  biography  can  see  for  themselves — but 
scant  leisure  had  been  his.  He  had  not  enjoyed  a  real  rest 
since  his  boyish  days.  With  a  great  position  achieved,  and  a 
mind  comparatively  free  from  care,  he  was  now  able  to  accept 
an  invitation  to  accompany  a  party  of  friends  which  had  been 
formed  by  the  Baroness  Burdett-Coutts  for  a  cruise  in  her 
yacht,  the  Walrus,  to  the  Mediterranean.  This,  his  first 
voyage  from  his  native  shores  was  the  means  of  a  recuperation 
of  health  of  which  he  stood  in  much  need.  The  party  left 
Weymouth  on  3ist  July,  and  arrived  at  Malta  on  22nd  August. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

2oth  September,  1879 — 3ist  July,  1880. 

Money  paid  for  unproduced  plays — Mr.  A.  W.  Pinero's  first  piece — 
"  The  Iron  Chest "  revived — Irving's  impersonation  praised — His  speech  on 
the  first  night — Preparations  for  "  The  Merchant  of  Venice  " — Small  amount 
expended  on  scenery — "  This  is  the  happiest  moment  of  my  life  " — Irving's 
own  statement  regarding  the  scenery — His  interpretation  of  Shylock  in 
1879  eulogised  by  the  Spectator — The  leading  critics  of  the  day  write  in 
praise — An  "unobtrusive"  background — Illness  of  Miss  Ellen  Terry — A 
feeble  outcry — Ruskin  incensed — The  hundredth  night — A  wonderful  trans- 
formation— Distinguished  guests — Lord  Houghton  surprises  his  hearers — 
Irving's  humorous  reply — An  act  of  generosity  —  "  lolanthe  "  —  Irving's 
speech  on  the  last  night  of  the  season — The  receipts. 

IRVING  began  his  season  of  1879-80  under  the  best  of  auspices. 
Refreshed  in  mind  and  body,  he  was  ready  and  eager  for  the 
fray.  Although  he  held  the  highest  place  in  the  estimation 
of  the  public,  no  one  felt  more  keenly  than  he  himself  that 
it  could  only  be  sustained  by  increased  vigilance  and  incessant 
work.  He  did  not  rest  upon  his  oars  either  now  or  at  any 
other  time.  It  was  his  intention  to  revive,  in  the  season  which 
was  about  to  begin,  famous  plays,  not  only  of  Shakespeare, 
but  of  other  authors,  and  he  was  in  treaty  with  some  of  the 
ablest  of  contemporary  writers  for  new  plays.  He  had  also 
publicly  announced  his  desire  to  have  frequent  changes  of  bill. 
In  two  of  these  good  resolutions,  fate  helped  him  to  a  contrary 
decision.  The  gloom  of  "  The  Iron  Chest "  caused  him — very 
happily — to  abandon  all  thought  of  those  lugubrious  and  stilted 
dramas,  "The  Stranger"  and  "The  Gamester".  On  the 
other  hand,  the  magnificent  success  of  "The  Merchant  of 
Venice  "  made  it  impossible  for  the  prudent  manager  to  with- 
draw that  play  until  two  hundred  and  fifty  performances — the 
longest  run  of  any  Shakespearean  piece — had  been  given.  As 

for  new  plays,  he  was  already  in  negotation  with  the  Poet 

296 


1879]  "BECKET'  297 

Laureate  and  he  produced  the  two  first  plays  written  by  Mr. 
Arthur  W.  Pinero.  Again,  during  this  season  he  paid  out  no 
less  a  sum  than  ^900  to  authors  on  account  of  plays  which 
he  could  not  produce,  including  ^150  for  a  piece  on  the  sub- 
ject of  "  Robert  Emmet"  and  ^700  for  "  Rienzi".1  It  was 
said  at  the  time,  and  the  prophecy  was  fulfilled,  that  "  Mr. 
Irving  has  only  to  go  on  as  he  has  begun  to  make  the  Lyceum 
Theatre  a  national  institution,  not  by  a  vote  granted  by  Act 
of  Parliament,  but  by  the  consensus  of  opinion  amongst  those 
who  take  most  interest  in  our  acted  drama  as  it  is,  and  who 
have  most  faith  in  its  future  development."  The  Lyceum, 
under  his  management,  was  a  national  theatre,  but  without  a 
subsidy. 

The  opening  night  of  the  autumn  season2  was  2Oth 
September,  "The  Bells"  being  the  attraction.  It  was  pre- 
ceded by  Bayle  Bernard's  old  farce,  "The  Boarding  School," 
acted  by  Miss  Myra  Holme,  Miss  Florence  Terry,  Miss 
Pauncefort,  Mr.  J.  H.  Barnes,  and  others  ;  and  it  was  followed 
by  "an  original  comedietta,"  entitled  "  Daisy's  Escape,"  Mr. 
Pinero 's  first  play.  The  "  escape  "  is  that  of  a  young  girl  from 
an  ill-chosen  bridegroom,  with  whom  she  is  foolishly  eloping 
for  want  of  something  better  to  do.  Daisy  White  has  run 
away  in  haste  with  Mr.  Augustus  Caddel,  and,  before  the 
journey  is  over,  she  repents  at  leisure  her  unaccountable  choice 
of  a  future  husband  who  is  vulgar,  rude,  and  ill-tempered. 
The  conduct  of  the  badly-matched  couple  and  their  conversa- 
tion are  very  diverting,  and,  as  the  piece  was  well  played  at 

1"Mr.  Tennyson's  new  drama,  'Thomas  a  Becket,'  has  been  sent  to 
Mr.  Irving,  with  a  view  to  its  production  at  the  Lyceum.  If  accepted,  it 
will  have  to  be  considerably  reduced." — The  Theatre,  ist  October,  1879. 

2  During  his  absence  from  London,  the  Lyceum  was  let  by  Irving  for 
four  weeks  (at  ^150  a  week),  to  Miss  Genevieve  Ward,  who  produced,  on 
2nd  August,  an  "original  romantic  drama  "  called  "Zillah,"  in  which  she 
"doubled"  two  characters.  The  play  was  a  dire  failure,  and  was  im- 
mediately succeeded  by  an  adaptation  from  Victor  Hugo's  tragedy, 
"  Lucretia  Borgia,"  in  which  Miss  Ward  played  the  leading  role.  On  2ist 
August,  the  first  performance  took  place  of  "  Forget-me-Not "  in  which 
Miss  Ward,  in  the  character  of  Stephanie  de  Mohrivart,  acquired  great 
celebrity.  Mr.  Forbes  Robertson  was  the  original  Horace  Welby. 


298    THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING    [CHAP.  xvin. 

the  Lyceum,  it  became  popular.  Mr.  Pinero — who  was  a 
member  of  the  Lyceum  company  from  January,  1877,  unt^ 
July,  1 88 1 — was  the  eccentric  Mr.  Caddel,  Miss  Alma  Murray 
was  the  Daisy,  and  Mr.  Frank  Cooper  a  young  lover. 

"The  Bells,"  however,  was  only  a  stop-gap  pending  the 
completion  of  the  preparations  for  the  revival,  on  Saturday, 
27th  September,  of  George  Colman  the  Younger's  play,  "  The 
Iron  Chest,"  which  was  first  brought  out  at  Drury  Lane  in 
1796.  It  is  founded  on  Godwin's  novel,  " Caleb  Williams". 
It  is,  at  best,  a  dull  and  heavy  piece,  and  the  Lyceum  revival 
served  the  good  purpose  of  banishing  it  to  an  oblivion  in 
which  it  has  since  remained.  The  play  was  written  by  John 
Philip  Kemble,  and  the  failure  was,  with  gross  unfairness, 
attributed  by  the  author  to  the  actor.  "  Frogs  in  a  marsh," 
wrote  Colman,  "  flies  in  a  bottle,  wind  in  a  crevice,  a 
preacher  in  a  field,  the  drone  of  a  bagpipe,  all,  all  yielded  to 
the  inimitable  and  soporific  monotony  of  Mr.  Kemble."  The 
play  was  condemned  by  Macready,  and,  although  Edmund 
Kean  acted  Sir  Edward  Mortimer  finely,  he  could  not  put 
much  life  into  the  sombre  tragedy.  Moreover,  in  Irving's 
case,  the  chief  part  being  that  of  a  murderer  who  suffers  from 
remorse,  there  was  too  much  reminder  of  Mathias  and  Eugene 
Aram  in  it.  Again,  the  language  is  of  the  most  bombastic 
kind,  and,  although  there  are  sixteen  parts  in  the  play, 
there  are  really  only  two  characters,  Sir  Edward  Mortimer 
and  his  secretary,  Wilford.  Irving  put  his  own  individuality 
into  the  character,  and  with  good  effect.  From  the  moment 
when,  dressed  as  a  gentleman  of  the  last  decade  of  the  eight- 
teenth  century,  with  bloodless  face  and  prematurely  grey  hair, 
he  was  first  seen  by  the  audience — the  dull  glare  of  the  fire 
falling  upon  the  figures  in  armour  and  the  antique  furniture 
of  the  library — from  that  moment  until  the  death,  under  the 
pressure  of  a  troubled  conscience,  of  Sir  Edward  Mortimer, 
he  fascinated  the  spectators.  His  best  acting  was  found  in 
the  pathos  which  he  infused  into  the  speech  as  to  the  captured 
poacher,  the  restrained  anguish  with  which  he  related  the 
story  of  his  crime,  the  depth  of  meaning  underlying  his  seem- 


1879] 


THE  IRON  CHEST' 


299 


ingly  commonplace  injunctions  to  Wilford,  his  cruel  and 
inflexible  resolution  in  preferring  the  false  charge  against  the 
latter,  his  fierce  agony  at  the  discovery  of  his  secret,  and, 
above  all,  the  revulsion  of  feeling  with  which  he  fell  upon 
Wilford's  shoulder  with  a  plea  of  forgiveness.  In  this,  as  in 
all  the  characters  portrayed  by  him  which  had  been  written 
before  his  time,  he  departed  from  precedent.  It  was  noticed, 
moreover,  that  he  enunciated  every  word  with  a  remarkable 
clearness  and  that  every  action  was  distinguished  by  self-con- 
tained repose.  The  merit  of  his  performance  was  generally  re- 


THE  IRON  CHEST. 

Revived  at  the  Lyceum,  27th  September,  1879. 


SIR  EDWARD  MORTIMER 

CAPTAIN  FITZHARDING  - 

WILFORD      - 

ADAM  WINTERTON 

RAWBOLD 

SAMSON  RAWBOLD 

PETER  .... 

GREGORY      - 

ARMSTRONG  - 

ORSON  -        -        -        - 

ROBBERS      - 

ROBBERS'  BOY 

LADY  HELEN 

BLANCHE 

BARBARA 

JUDITH 


Mr.  IRVING. 

Mr.  J.  H.  BARNES. 

Mr.  NORMAN  FORBES. 

Mr.  J.  CARTER. 

Mr.  MEAD. 

Mr.  S.  JOHNSON. 

Mr.  BRANSCOMBE. 

Mr.  TAPPING. 

Mr.  F.  TYARS. 

Mr.  C.  COOPER. 

Messrs.  FERRAND,  CALVERT,  HARWOOD,  ETC. 

Miss  HARWOOD. 

Miss  FLORENCE  TERRY. 

Miss  MYRA  HOLME. 

Miss  ALMA  MURRAY. 

Miss  PAUNCEFORT. 


ACT  I.,  SCENE  i.  Rawbold's  Cottage ;  SCENE  2.  Hall  in  Sir  Edward 
Mortimer's  House ;  SCENE  3.  Ante-room  in  Sir  Edward  Mortimer's 
House;  SCENE  4.  Sir  Edward's  Library.  ACT  II.,  SCENE  i.  The  Ante- 
room;  SCENE  2.  The  Library.  ACT  III.,  SCENE  i.  Lady  Helen's  Cot- 
tage; SCENE  2.  A  Ruined  Abbey.  ACT  IV.,  SCENE  i.  The  Library; 
SCENE  2.  The  Hall ;  SCENE  3.  The  Library.  Period,  1794. 


cognised  in  the  press,  so  much  so,  indeed,  that  he  appended  to 
his  programme,  after  the  first  night,  three  pages  of  excerpts 
therefrom.  "  As  a  picture  of  despair  and  resolution,"  said  the 
Athenczum,  "sombre  and  funereal,  illumined  by  bursts  of 
passion  which  rend  and  convulse  the  frame,  and  are  yet  as 
evanescent  as  they  are  powerful,  the  performance  is  marvel- 
lous. The  grimmer  aspect  of  Mr.  Irving's  powers  has  never 
been  seen  to  equal  advantage,  and  if  the  performance  is  not 
so  fine  as  the  Louis  XL,  it  is  only  because  the  comic  element 
is  wanting.  Mr.  Irving's  face  is  capable  of  being  charged 


300    THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING    [CHAP.  xvm. 

with  any  amount  of  tragic  expression,  and  it  is  not  easy  to 
conceive  a  picture  of  remorse  burning  fiercely  behind  the 
closed  shutters  of  a  resolute  will  more  powerful  than  that  he 
presents  in  the  scene  in  which  he  sets  himself  to  work  a  cruel 
and  deliberate  vengeance  on  the  boy  whose  curiosity  has  stirred 
his  fears."  It  will  be  remembered  that  Irving,  as  a  boy,  had 
acted  Wilford,  and,  from  his  own  experience  of  the  part,  he  was 
able  to  assist  the  representative  of  the  character  at  the  Lyceum. 
Irving's  speech  on  the  first  night  of  "The  Iron  Chest" 
showed  how  unsafe  it  is  to  make  any  promises  in  the  affairs 
of  the  play-house.  "  Ladies  and  Gentlemen,"  he  said,  "  I  need 
hardly  tell  you  how  delighted  I  am  on  this,  the  first  representa- 
tion of  a  play  in  which  none  of  us  have  appeared  before,  at  the 
manner  in  which  you  have  received  it.  It  is  no  easy  task,  I 
assure  you,  to  get  through  a  piece  of  this  kind  without  exciting 
—well,  to  say  the  least,  some  amusement.  I  am  proud  to  find 
that  you  have  listened  to  it  with  interest,  and  I  am  the  more 
pleased  because  it  is  my  intention  to  reproduce  other  old  plays. 
This  one  will  in  future  be  added  to  our  repertory.  It  will 
improve  on  acquaintance,  as  you  will  find  :  if  you  come  and 
see  it  again.  It  will  be  played  every  evening  for  a  reasonable 
time  until  further  notice."  But,  after  27th  October,  "The 
Iron  Chest "  vanished  from  the  Lyceum  stage  and  repertory, 
and  was  played  no  more  by  Henry  Irving.  A  reference  to 
the  cast  will  show  the  presence  in  it  of  many  admirable  actors. 
Colman's  play  was  preceded  by  "Daisy's  Escape"  and  fol- 
lowed by  "The  Boarding  School,"  so  that  the  programme 
was  a  full  one.  As  in  the  case  of  "  Hamlet,"  Irving  published 
his  acting  version  of  "  The  Iron  Chest,"  to  which  he  appended 
the  following  note:  "In  presenting  'The  Iron  Chest'  to  the 
public,  I  have  adhered  to  the  original  form  of  the  play  as 
closely  as  is  consistent  with  the  exigencies  of  the  modern 
stage.  I  have  taken  as  the  period  the  year  1794,  a  somewhat 
different  date  from  that  hitherto  chosen.  In  doing  so,  I  have 
been  guided  by  the  original  story — Godwin's  novel  of  '  Caleb 
Williams,'  from  which  the  principal  characters  and  many  of 
the  incidents  of  the  play  were  drawn." 


1 879]       "THE  MERCHANT  OF  VENICE"          301 

While  Colman's  dreary  drama  was  dragging  its  painful 
course,  the  preparations  for  the  revival  of  "  The  Merchant  of 
Venice"  were  proceeding  apace.  Pending  this  production, 
"  Hamlet"  was  given  on  certain  evenings,  beginning  on 
Wednesday,  i5th  October,  with  Miss  Ellen  Terry,  returned 
from  a  provincial  tour,  as  Ophelia.  The  first  night  of 
"The  Merchant  of  Venice"  at  the  Lyceum  was  Saturday, 
ist  November,  1879.  The  general  effectiveness  of  the  pro- 
duction was  a  revelation.  But  it  was  made  so  by  intelligence 
and  admirable  acting,  not,  as  some  people  seem  to  think — if 
we  are  to  judge  by  their  writings — by  the  scenery.  In  1896, 
as  we  have  already  seen,  Henry  Irving  had  publicly  stated 
that  the  total  cost  of  the  production  was  ,£1,200.  Yet,  in  a 
book  published  two  years  later,  we  are  told  that  the  revival 
was  "on  a  scale  entirely  unparalleled  in  its  magnificence.  .  .  . 
Up  to  that  time  [November,  1879]  no  play  had  been 
mounted  with  such  astonishing  care  and  completeness "  —a 
statement,  by  the  way,  that  was  a  little  unfair  to  the  produc- 
tions by  Charles  Kean  at  the  Princess's.  The  false  idea 
about  the  "magnificence"  of  the  revival  doubtless  had  its 
origin  in  the  pages  of  Blackwood' s  Magazine.  In  April,  1879, 
there  had  appeared  an  article  in  which  Irving's  Hamlet  had 
been  attacked,  in  the  course  of  which  the  actor  was  described 
as  labouring  at  his  work  "like  an  athlete  of  Michael  Angelo, 
with  every  muscle  starting  and  every  sinew  strung  to  its  ut- 
most tension".  In  the  December  number,  "The  Merchant 
of  Venice"  came  in  for  severe  handling  by  a  writer  who 
apparently  sought  to  belittle  the  players  of  the  day  by  the 
process  of  exalting  a  certain  admirable  actress,  but  one 
whose  career  had  closed.  He  decried,  in  language  which 
now  seems  strange,  so  wanting  was  it  in  judgment,  Sarah 
Bernhardt  as  well  as  Miss  Terry.  "It  was  no  less  than 
pitiable,"  he  said,  "  to  see  how  people  who  profess  to  be  learned 
in  the  matters  of  art  went  mad  over  the  feeble  performances 
of  Mile.  Sarah  Bernhardt  last  summer."  Such  essays  in 
"  criticism  "  do  not  matter  much  in  the  end,  but  they  are  open 
to  censure  when  they  mis-state  facts.  The  wholesale  con- 


302    THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING    [CHAP.  xvm. 

demnation  of  Miss  Terry's  Portia  is  rather  amusing  reading 
nowadays.  But  to  descant  upon  the  revival  of  "  The  Mer- 
chant of  Venice"  as  though  the  manager  had  spent  a  fortune 
on  the  scenery  was  the  outcome  of  a  wrong  impression. 
There  was  really  nothing  in  the  scenery  to  rave  about".  This 
may  be  imagined  from  the  fact  that  less  than  two  months  had 
been  occupied  in  active  preparations  for  the  production.  This 
is  shown  from  Irving's  speech  at  the  end  of  the  first  perform- 
ance when  "the  pit,  the  dress  circle,  and  the  gallery  rose  at 
Mr.  Irving  and  the  roar  of  applause  must  have  aroused  the 
neighbourhood".  In  response  to  the  customary  demand  for 
a  speech,  he  said  :  "  This  is  the  happiest  moment  of  my  life, 
and  I  may  claim  for  myself,  and  those  associated  with  me  in 
this  production,  the  merit,  at  least,  of  having  worked  hard,  for 
on  the  8th  of  October  last,  not  a  brush  had  been  put  upon  the 
scenery,  nor  a  stitch  in  any  of  the  dresses".  He  concluded 
by  thanking  the  audience  in  the  words  of  Bolingbroke  in 
4  Richard  II.':- 

I  count  myself  in  nothing  else  so  happy 
As  in  a  soul  remem'bring  my  good  friends. 

From  time  to  time  during  the  run,  there  were  additional  ex- 

)enses  for  new  scenes  and  costumes,  but  the  total  production 

account  for  " The  Merchant  of  Venice"  only  amounted,  at  the 

nd  of  July,  1880,  to  ,£2,061 — a  wonderfully  small  sum  for 

"  magnificent "  Shakespearean  production.     The  truth  of  the 

matter  was  that  the  beautiful  pictures  presented  in  the  course 

of  the  play  were  the  result  of  art — the  scene  painters,  Mr. 

Hawes  Craven,  Mr.  Walter  Hann,  and  Mr.  William  Telbin 

forking  for  a  general  purpose  which  was  expressed  by  Henry 

Irving   in    the  prefatory  note  to  his   acting  version   of  the 

play:     "  In   producing  'The  Merchant  of  Venice,'  I    have 

endeavoured  to  avoid  hampering  the  natural  action  of  the 

piece  with  any  unnecessary  embellishment ;  but  have  tried 

not  to  omit  any  accessory  which  might  heighten  the  effects. 

I  have  availed  myself  of  every  resource  at  my  command  to 

present  the  play  in  a  manner  acceptable  to  our  audiences." 

Irving's    interpretation    of   Shylock   in   his   first   revival 


879] 


UNBIASSED  CRITICS 


303 


differed  materially  from  that  of  later  years.  His  Jew  was 
then  an  extremely  dignified  and  sympathetic  figure.  Several 
Jewish  writers  considered  it  as  a  vindication  of  their  race. 
There  were  many  discussions  as  to  the  correctness,  or  other- 
wise, of  this  reading  of  the  character,  but,  no  matter  what 
view  was  taken  on  that  point,  there  was  nothing  but  praise 
for  the  effectiveness  of  the  rendering.  The  London  and  pro- 
vincial papers  had  many  columns  of  glowing  praise,  much  of 


THE  MERCHANT  OF  VENICE. 

Revived  at  the  Lyceum,  ist  November,  1879. 


SHYLOCK     - 

DUKE  OF  VENICE 

PRINCE  OF  MOROCCO  - 

ANTONIO     - 

BASSANIO     - 

SALANIO 

SALARINO    - 

GRATIANO   - 

LORENZO     - 

TUBAL 

LAUNCELOT  GOBBO 

OLD  GOBBO 

GAOLER 

LEONARDO  - 

BALTHAZAR 

STEPHANO   - 

CLERK  OF  THE  COURT 

NERISSA 

JESSICA 

PORTIA 


Mr.  IRVING. 

Mr.  BEAUMONT. 

Mr.  TYARS. 

Mr.  FORRESTER. 

Mr.  BARNES. 

Mr.  ELWOOD. 

Mr.  PINERO. 

Mr.  F.  COOPER. 

Mr.  N.  FORBES. 

Mr.  J.  CARTER. 

Mr.  S.  JOHNSON. 

Mr.  C.  COOPER. 

Mr.  HUDSON. 

Mr.  BRANSCOMBE. 

Mr.  TAPPING. 

Mr.  GANTHONY. 

Mr.  CALVERT. 

Miss  FLORENCE  TERRY. 

Miss  ALMA  MURRAY. 

Miss  ELLEN  TERRY. 


ACT  I.,  SCENE  i.  Venice — A  Public  Place;  SCENE  2.  Bel- 
mont — Portia's  House  ;  SCENE  3.  Venice — A  Public  Place. 
ACT  II.,  SCENE  i.  A  Street;  SCENE  2.  Another  Street; 
SCENE  3.  Shylock's  House  by  a  Bridge.  ACT  III.,  SCENE  i. 
Belmont — Room  in  Portia's  House;  SCENE  2.  Venice — A 
Street ;  SCENE  3.  Belmont — Room  in  Portia's  House ;  SCENE  4. 
Venice — A  Street;  SCENE  5.  Belmont — Room  in  Portia's 
House.  ACT  IV.,  SCENE.  Venice — A  Court  of  Justice. 
ACT  V.,  SCENE.  Belmont — Portia's  Garden,  with  Terrace. 


which  was  as  discriminating  as  it  was  eulogistic.  It  is  well 
to  see  how  the  Shylock  of  1879  impressed  the  unbiassed 
critics  of  that  time.  This  can  be  done  by  taking  the  evidence 
of  the  Spectator  which,  in  the  course  of  a  long  article,  said  : 
"  Mr.  Irving's  Shylock  is  a  being  quite  apart  from  his  sur- 
roundings. When  he  hesitates  and  questions  with  himself 
why  he  should  go  forth  to  sup  with  those  who  would  scorn 
him  if  they  could,  but  can  only  ridicule  him,  while  the  very 


3o4    THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING    [CHAP.  xvm. 

stealthy  intensity  of  scorn  of  them  is  in  him,  we  ask,  too,  why 
should  he?  He  would  hardly  be  more  out  of  place  in  the 
'  wilderness  of  monkeys,'  of  which  he  makes  his  sad  and 
quaint  comparison  when  Tubal  tells  him  of  that  last  coarse 
proof  of  the  heartlessness  of  his  daughter  'wedded  with  a 
Christian ' — the  bartering  of  his  Leah's  ring.  What  mean, 
pitiful  beings  they  all  are,  poetical  as  is  their  language,  and 
fine  as  are  the  situations  of  the  play,  in  comparison  with  the 
forlorn,  resolute,  undone,  baited,  betrayed,  implacable  old 
man  who,  having  personified  his  hatred  of  the  race  of 
Christians  in  Antonio,  whose  odiousness  to  him,  in  the  treble 
character  of  a  Christian,  a  sentimentalist,  and  a  reckless 
speculator,  is  less  of  a  mere  caprice  than  he  explains  it  to  be. 
He  reasons  calmly  with  the  dullards  in  the  Court  concerning 
this  costly  whim  of  his,  yet  with  a  disdainful  doubt  of  the 
juctice  that  will  be  done  him  ;  standing  almost  motionless, 
his  hands  hanging  by  his  sides — they  are  an  old  man's  hands, 
feeble,  except  when  passion  turns  them  into  gripping  claws, 
and  then  that  passion  subsides  into  the  quivering  of  age, 
which  is  like  palsy — his  grey,  worn  face,  lined  and  hollow, 
mostly  averted  from  the  speakers  who  move  him  not ;  except 
when  a  gleam  of  murderous  hate,  sudden  and  deadly,  like 
the  flash  from  a  pistol,  goes  over  it,  and  burns  for  a  moment 
in  the  tired,  melancholy  eyes !  Such  a  gleam  there  came 
when  Shy  lock  answered  Bassanio's  palliative  commonplace, 
with— 

Hates  any  man  the  thing  he  would  not  kill  ? 

At  the  wretched  gibes  of  Gratiano,  and  the  amiable  maunder- 
ing of  the  Duke,  the  slow,  cold  smile,  just  parting  the  lips  and 
touching  their  curves  as  light  touches  polished  metal,  passes 
\  /  pver  the  lower  part  of  the  face,  but  does  not  touch  the  eyes 
or  lift  the  brow.  This  is  one  of  Mr.  Irving's  most  remark- 
able facial  effects,  for  he  can  pass  through  all  the  phases  of 
a  smile,  up  to  surpassing  sweetness.  Is  it  a  fault  of  the  actor's 
or  of  ours  that  this  Shylock  is  a  being  so  absolutely  apart,  that 
it  is  impossible  to  picture  him  as  a  part  of  the  life  of  Venice, 


1879]     PRAISE  FROM  THE  SPECTATOR        305 

that  we  cannot  think  of  him  '  on  the  Rialto '  before  Bassanio 
wanted  'monies,'  and  Antonio  had  'plunged'  like  any  London 
City  man  in  the  pre-'  depression '  times,  that  he  absolutely  be- 
gins to  exist  with  the  '  Three  thousand  ducats — well  ? '  These 
are  the  first  words  uttered  by  the  picturesque  personage  to 
whom  the  splendid  and  elaborate  scene,  whose  every  detail 
we  have  previously  been  eagerly  studying,  becomes  merely 
the  background.  He  is  wonderfully  weird,  but  his  weirdness 
is  quite  unlike  that  of  any  other  of  the  impersonations  in 
which  Mr.  Irving  has  accustomed  us  to  that  characteristic ;  it 
is  impressive,  never  fantastic — sometimes  solemn  and  terrible. 
There  was  a  moment  when,  as  he  stood,  in  the  last  scene,  with 
folded  arms  and  bent  head,  the  very  image  of  exhaustion,  a 
victim,  entirely  convinced  of  the  justice  of  his  cause,  he  looked 
like  a  Spanish  painter's  Ecce  Homo.  The  likeness  passed 
in  an  instant,  for  the  next  utterance  is  :— 

My  deeds  upon  my  head.     I  crave  the  law, 
The  penalty  and  forfeit  of  my  bond. 

"  In  the  opinion  of  the  present  writer,  his  Shylock  is  Mr. 
Irving's  finest  performance,  and  hisjfinal  exit  is  its  best  point,  /j/y  ft 
The  quiet  shrug,  the  glance  of  ineffable,  unfathomable  con- 
tempt at  the  exulting  booby  Gratiano,  who  having  got  hold 
of  a  good  joke,  worries  it  like  a  puppy  with  a  bone,  the  ex- 
pression of  defeat  in  every  limb  and  feature,  the  deep,  gasping  ., 
sigh,  as  he  passes  slowly  out,  and  fhe  crowd  rush  from  the"""' 
court  to  hoot  and  howl  at  him  outside,  make  up  an  effect  which 
must  be  seen  to  be  comprehended.  Perhaps  some  students 
of  Shakespeare,  reading  the  Jew's  story  to  themselves,  and 
coming  to  the  conclusion  that  there  was  more  sentiment  than 
legality  in  that  queer,  confused,  quibbling  court,  where  judge 
and  advocate  were  convertible  terms,  may  have  doubted 
whether  the  utterer  of  the  most  eloquent  and  famous  satirical 
appeal  in  all  dramatic  literature,  whose  scornful  detestation  of 
his  Christian  foes  rose  mountains  high  over  what  they  held  to 
be  his  ruling  passion,  drowning  avarice  fathom  deep  in  hatred, 
would  have  gratified  those  enemies,  by  useless  railing,  and  an 

VOL.  i.  20 


3o6    THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING    [CHAP.  xvm. 

exhibition  of  impotent  rage.  But  there  is  no  '  tradition '  for  this 
rendering,  in  which  Mr.  Irving  puts  in  action  for  his  Shylock 
one  sense  of  Hamlet's  words — 'The  rest  is  Silence'.  The 
impression  made  by  this  consummate  stroke  of  art  and  touch 
of  nature  upon  the  vast  audience  was  most  remarkable,  and 
the  thrill  that  passed  over  the  house  was  a  sensation  to  have 
witnessed  and  shared. " 

It  is  a  curious  fact  that  there  was  absolute  unanimity 
among  the  three  leading  dramatic  critics  of  the  day  con- 
cerning this  revival.  Button  Cook,  Joseph  Knight,  and 
Clement  Scott  expounded  and  praised  the  acting  of  Henry 
Irving  and  Miss  Ellen  Terry.  The  first-named  writer  em- 
phasised the  fact  that  the  actor  had  obtained  complete  mastery 
of  himself.  "The  performance  is  altogether  consistent  and 
harmonious,"  he  wrote,  "and  displays  anew  that  power  of 
self-control  which  has  come  to  Mr.  Irving  this  season  as 
a  fresh  possession.  Every  temptation  to  extravagance  or 
eccentricity  of  action  was  resolutely  resisted,  and  with  the 
happiest  results.  I  never  saw  a  Shylock  that  obtained  more 
commiseration  from  the  audience ;  for  usually,  I  think,  Shy- 
lock  is  so  robustly  vindictive  and  energetically  defiant,  as  to 
compel  the  spectators  to  withhold  from  him  their  sympathies. 
But  Mr.  Irving's  Shylock,  old,  haggard,  halting,  sordid,  re- 
presents the  dignity  and  intellect  of  the  play  ;  beside  him,  the 
Christians,  for  all  their  graces  of  aspect  and  gallantry  of 
apparel,  seem  but  poor  creatures."  He  wrote  of  Miss  Terry  : 
"  A  more  admirable  Portia  there  could  scarcely  be.  Nervous 
at  first,  and  weighed  down  possibly  by  the  difficulty  of 
equalling  herself  and  of  renewing  her  former  triumph,  the  lady 
played  uncertainly,  and  at  times  with  some  insufficiency  of 
force ;  but,  as  the  drama  proceeded,  her  courage  increased 
and  her  genius  asserted  itself.  Radiantly  beautiful  in  her 
Venetian  robes  of  gold-coloured  brocaded  satin,  with  the  look 
of  a  picture  by  Giorgione,  her  emotional  acting  in  the  casket- 
scene  with  Bassanio  ;  her  spirited  resolve,  confided  to  Nerissa, 
to  prove  '  the  prettier  fellow  of  the  two ' ;  her  exquisite 
management  of  the  most  melodious  of  voices  in  the  trial 


1879]  UNOBTRUSIVE  SCENERY  307 

before  the  Doge ;  the  high  comedy  of  the  last  act — these 
left  nothing  to  be  desired,  and  obtained,  as  they  deserved,  the 
most  enthusiastic  applause." 

It  is  significant,  in  view  of  the  irresponsible  talk  about  the 
4 'magnificence"  of  the  production,  that  Mr.  Cook  does  not 
mention  the  scenery  at  all  until  the  end  of  his  criticism 
and  then  only  to  say  that :  "The  new  scenes  by  Mr.  Hawes 
Craven  and  others  are  excellently  artistic,  and  the  costumes 
and  furniture  very  handsome  and  appropriate".  Nor  did  Mr. 
Knight  feel  himself  called  upon  to  decry  the  "splendour  "  of 
the  mounting — which  he  certainly  would  have  done  had  there 
been  occasion.  On  the  contrary,  he  considered  the  per- 
formance "an  interpretation  superior  to  anything  of  its  class 
that  has  been  seen  on  the  English  stage  by  the  present 
generation,  while,  as  a  sample  of  the  manner  in  which  Shake- 
speare is  hereafter  to  be  mounted,  it  is  of  the  highest  interest. 
In  thus  speaking"-— and  the  point  is  very  important — he  ex- 
pressly stated  that  he  did  not  confine  his  "praise  to  what  may 
be  called  the  upholstery  portion  of  the  accessories.  An  im- 
mense stride  has  been  made  in  the  direction  of  a  thoroughly 
satisfactory  presentation  of  the  early  drama,  and  the  foundation 
is  established  of  a  system  of  performances  which  will  restore 
Shakespeare  to  fashion  as  an  acted  dramatist,  and  will  render 
attractive  to  the  student,  whatever  his  culture,  that  observation 
of  the  acted  drama  of  Shakespeare  which  is  indispensable  to 
a  full  estimate  of  his  powers.  A  background  which  is  at  once 
striking,  natural,  and" — mark  this  word — "unobtrusive,  is 
supplied,  and  from  this  the  action  receives  added  intelligibility." 
The  same  critic  cited,  as  an  example  of  Irving's  "  ingenious 
and  intelligent  explanation  and  comment  in  the  shape  of 
action,"  the  introduction  among  the  spectators  of  the  Trial 
scene  of  a  knot  of  eager  and  interested  Jews  upon  whom  the 
sentence  upon  Shylock,  condemning  him  to  deny  his  religion, 
fell  like  a  thunderbolt.  Another  thoughtful  interpretation  of 
the  meaning  of  the  poet  will  be  recalled  by  recent  witnesses, 
as  well  as  the  earlier  ones,  of  Henry  Irving's  Shylock,  namely, 
the  return  of  Shylock  after  the  flight  of  Jessica.  The  pathetic 

20  * 


308    THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING    [CHAP.  xvin. 

figure  of  the  Jew,  lantern  in  hand,  on  the  darkened  stage,  as 
he  knocks  and  waits  at  the  door  of  the  deserted  house  is  one 
of  those  illuminating  bits  of  acting  which  denote  the  great  in- 
terpreter. For  they  are  within  the  spirit  of  the  play  and 
illustrate,  without  exaggeration,  the  true  meaning  of  the 
dramatist.  He  did  not  "read  Shakespeare  by  flashes  of 
lightning,"  but  by  supreme  intelligence  and  patient  study. 

On  the  first  night  of  the  revival,  Irving  had  to  bear  much 
of  the  burden  in  addition  to  his  own  interpretation  and  his 
legitimate  responsibilities  as  a  manager.  For  instance,  he 
was  slightly  disconcerted  in  the  scene  of  Shylock's  discovery 
of  the  loss  of  his  daughter  and  his  ducats  by  a  blunder  on  the 
part  of  the  representative  of  Tubal.  Again,  the  general 
performance  was  good,  but  some  of  the  players,  despite  their 
excellent  reputations,  did  not  do  themselves  justice  on  this 
important  occasion.  Antonio  and  Gratiano,  for  instance, 
were  "but  weakly  interpreted,"  according  to  one  writer  of 
authority,  while  Clement  Scott  censured  the  Nerissa  as  "an 
unfortunate  mistake  in  more  ways  than  one,"  for  the  character 
should  be  individual,  "and  not  a  feeble  echo  of  Portia. 
There  should  be  contrast,  and  not  diminutive  imitation. 
Under  any  circumstances,  the  employment  of  sisters  would 
be  hazardous,  but  in  this  case  a  very  distressing  attack  of 
nervousness  blunted  the  activity  of  Miss  Florence  Terry,  and 
jeopardised  several  important  scenes."  These  first-night 
trials,  however,  did  not  mar  the  general  effect :  they  were 
soon  remedied,  and  the  play  sailed  for  months  on  the  smooth 
sea  of  success. 

"The  Merchant  of  Venice"  was  played  without  a  break 
for  seven  months — a  record  without  precedent  and  one  that 
since  has  had  no  equal.  Of  course,  there  were  a  few  petty 
troubles,  but  Irving  was  so  attuned  to  such  things  that  he 
invariably  triumphed  over  them.  A  heavy  fog  descended 
upon  London  in  the  middle  of  December,  and  penetrated, 
as  is  the  wont  of  such  evil  ministrations,  into  every  playhouse. 
In  the  Lyceum,  according  to  a  scribe  who  was  usually  truthful, 
it  was  difficult  to  discern  the  features  of  the  actors  or  the 


i88o]  A  STRANGE  PROTEST  309 

colours  of  their  costumes  :  "  Mr.  Irving  as  Shylock  felt  his 
way  about  the  stage  looking  for  that  'pound  of  flesh,'  and  in 
the  final  scene  the  soft  moonbeams  were  very  irreverently 
referred  to,  and  bright  pictures  referred  to  by  fond  lovers  on 
'such  a  night  as  this'  seemed  a  trifle  facetious."  More  dis- 
tressing, perhaps,  than  the  fog  was  the  indisposition  of  Miss 
Ellen  Terry  in  February.  Happily,  however,  there  was  a 
substitute  of  more  than  usual  ability  in  Miss  Alma  Murray, 
who  played  Portia  for  several  nights.  The  performance  was 
described  as  ''exceedingly  intelligent  and  pleasing.  The 
youthful  actress  has  an  expressive  face,  a  voice  of  sweet  and 
silvery  quality,  and  a  style  in  which  quiet  power  and  gentle- 
ness are  blended.  These  attributes  enabled  her  to  give  a 
very  effective  reading  of  portions  of  the  play,  notably  the 
scene  of  the  three  caskets."  So  that  the  revival  did  not  suffer 
materially  from  Miss  Terry's  temporary  absence. 

No  manager  can  protect  himself  against  fogs  and  the 
illness  of  members  of  his  company.  These  are  incidents  of 
everyday  life.  But  Henry  Irving  was  always  liable  to  assaults 
of  the  kind  from  which  even  prominent  actors  are  usually  free. 
In  November,  he  had  been  praised,  as  was  his  due,  for  hav- 
ing restored  to  the  stage  the  fifth  act  of  "  The  Merchant  of 
Venice".  In  the  case  of  the  majority  of  his  predecessors,  this 
scene  had  always  gone  by  the  board,  for,  as  Shylock  dis- 
appears from  the  stage  with  the  Trial  scene,  they  had  no 
need  for  it.  Now,  however,  there  was  a  feeble  outcry  because 
it  was  announced  that  on  the  occasion  of  Miss  Terry's  bene- 
fit in  May — when  a  one-act  play  was  to  be  given  for  the 
first  time — the  last  act  of  Shakespeare's  drama  would  be 
omitted.  It  seems  scarcely  credible,  but  it  is  a  fact  that  a 
printed  form  of  protest  against  the  proposed  "  mutilation  "  was 
vigorously  circulated,  the  promoters  of  the  petition  being  four 
in  number — a  well-known  critic  of  the  time,  an  antiquarian 
writer,  an  individual  whose  name  was  otherwise  unknown, 
and  the  part  author  of  a  vulgar  burlesque.  This  impudent 
attempt  to  interfere  with  the  prerogative  of  the  manager  met 
with  the  contempt  which  it  deserved.  For,  in  due  course, 


3io    THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING    [CHAP.  xvm. 

Miss  Terry  had  her  benefit  and  played  lolanthe,  the  last  act 
of  "  The  Merchant  of  Venice  "  being  omitted  on  that  occasion. 
Another  interesting  incident  arose  from  a  visit  of  Mr.  Ruskin 
to  the  Lyceum.  It  was  afterwards  reported,  by  a  "  good- 
natured  friend,"  that  he  had  met  the  representative  of  Shylock 
after  the  performance  and  had  congratulated  him  upon  an 
interpretation  "  noble,  tender,  and  true,"  whereat  the  great 
art  critic  waxed  exceedingly  wroth.  "  In  personal  address  to 
an  artist,  to  whom  one  is  introduced  for  the  first  time,"  he 
wrote  to  a  correspondent,  "one  does  not  usually  say  #//that 
is  in  one's  mind.  And  if  expressions  limited,  if  not  even 
somewhat  exaggerated,  by  courtesy,  be  afterwards  quoted  as 
a  total  and  carefully  expressed  criticism,  the  general  reader 
will  be — or  may  be  easily — much  misled.  I  did  and  do  admire 
Mr.  Irving's  own  acting  of  Shylock,  but  I  entirely  dissent  (and 
indignantly,  as  well  as  entirely)  from  his  general  reading  and 
treatment  of  the  play.1  And  I  think  a  modern  audience  will 
invariably  be  not  only  wrong,  but  diametrically  and  with 
polar  accuracy  opposite  to,  the  real  view  of  any  great  author 
in  the  moulding  of  his  work."  Of  course,  this  dogmatic  as- 
sertion may  possibly  be  right.  If  so,  the  many  thousands 
of  people  who  have  seen  and  applauded  Irving  in  "The 
Merchant  of  Venice"  must  be  wrong. 

But  the   most  surprising  of   the   events  which   occurred 

1  It  would  have  been  impossible  for  Ruskin,  unless  he  had  recanted, 
to  express  his  approval  of  the  Lyceum  revival,  for,  in  1862,  he  had  set 
down  his  opinion  of  Shakespeare's  play:  "And  this  (the  inhumanity  of 
mercenary  commerce)  is  the  ultimate  lesson  which  the  leader  of  English 
intellect  meant  for  us  (a  lesson,  indeed,  not  all  his  own,  but  part  of  the 
old  wisdom  of  humanity),  in  the  tale  of  '  The  Merchant  of  Venice ' ;  in 
which  the  true  and  incorrupt  merchant,  or  usurer,  the  lesson  being  deepened 
by  the  expression  of  the  strange  hatred  which  the  corrupted  merchant 
bears  to  the  pure  one,  mixed  with  intense  scorn — '  This  is  the  fool  that 
lent  out  money  gratis ;  look  to  him,  jailor '  (as  to  a  lunatic  no  less  than 
criminal)  the  enmity,  observe,  having  its  symbolism  literally  carried  out  by 
being  aimed  straight  at  the  heart,  and  finally  foiled  by  a  literal  appeal  to 
the  great  moral  law  that  flesh  and  blood  cannot  be  weighed,  enforced  by 
Portia  (Portion),  the  type  of  divine  fortune,  found,  not  in  gold,  not  in 
silver,  but  in  lead ;  that  is  to  say,  in  endurance  and  patience,  not  in  splen- 
dour," 


i88o]  THE  HUNDREDTH  NIGHT  311 

during  the  first  run  of  "The  Merchant  of  Venice"  at  the 
Lyceum  was  in  connection  with  the  celebration  of  the 
hundredth  performance  of  the  play.  The  unexpected  does  not 
always  happen,  assertions  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding, 
even  in  theatrical  management.  But  St.  Valentine's  Day, 
1880,  ushered  in  a  most  curious  and  utterly  unforeseen  cir- 
cumstance at  the  Lyceum,  the  toast  of  the  evening — the 
health  of  the  honoured  host — being  made  the  vehicle  for  air- 
ing personal  views  at  the  expense  of  the  giver  of  the  feast. 
The  incidents  which  led  up  to  this  extraordinary  breach  of 
custom  and  of  etiquette  must  be  briefly  related.  On  the 
afternoon  of  I4th  February,  "The  Merchant  of  Venice"  was 
played  for  the  hundredth  time.  In  celebration  of  this  unique 
event,  some  three  hundred  and  fifty  gentlemen,  every  one  of 
whom  was  a  celebrity — art,  science,  law,  medicine,  the  army, 
commerce,  literature,  politics,  and  society  being  well  repre- 
sented— were  invited  by  Henry  Irving  to  supper  in  the 
theatre.  It  was  natural,  for  the  Lyceum  was  then  strange 
to  such  celebrations,  that  curiosity  should  be  piqued  as  to  the 
nature  of  the  affair,  and  those  who  had  expected  something 
out  of  the  common  were  not  disappointed.  The  mere  stage- 
management  was  a  triumph  of  management.  At  eleven 
o'clock,  the  curtain  fell  on  the  garden  scene  of  Portia's  house 
at  Belmont,  and,  at  nine  minutes  before  midnight  the  first 
of  the  procession  of  guests  entered  upon  the  stage.  During 
the  fifty-one  minutes  which  had  elapsed,  a  veritable  transfor- 
mation scene  had  been  effected.  All  the  paraphernalia  of 
the  stage  and  the  piece  had  been  removed,  and  over  the 
whole  vacant  space,  of  some  four  thousand  square  feet,  rose 
an  immense  pavilion  of  white  and  scarlet  bands,  looped 
around  the  walls  with  tasteful  draperies,  and  lit  by  two 
gigantic  chandeliers,  whose  hundreds  of  lights,  in  lily-shaped 
bells  of  muffled  glass,  shone  with  a  soft  and  starry  radiance, 
and  by  the  twinkling  gleams  of  many  hundreds  of  wax 
candles  which  rose  in  clusters  from  the  long  tables.  The 
transformation  was  so  magically  effected,  and  displayed  such 
thoroughness  of  organisation  in  all  concerned,  that  to  those 


3i2    THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING    [CHAP.  xvm. 

interested  in  the  practical  working  out  of  effects,  some  details 
may  not  come  amiss.  In  seven  and  a  half  minutes,  the  stage 
was  cleared  to  the  bare  walls,  and  in  fifteen  minutes  the 
pavilion  was  erected,  the  chandeliers  were  hung,  and  the 
stage  servants,  numbering  some  hundreds,  reinforced  by  the 
manipulators  of  the  pavilion,  retired  in  favour  of  the  refresh- 
ment contractors,  who  put  another  army  in  the  field,  over  one 
hundred  strong.  In  the  meantime,  the  guests  were  assemb- 
ling. Entering  the  private  doorway  in  Exeter  Street,  they 
passed  through  a  passage  crimson-carpeted,  gracious  with 
graceful  palms  and  many-coloured  flowers  piled  along  the 
sides  and  up  the  margin  of  the  staircase.  Through  a 
curtained  door,  they  entered  the  armoury  of  the  theatre, 
itself  a  picture,  with  its  gleaming  arms  of  every  kind  and 
date :  pikes,  helmets,  breastplates,  whole  suits  of  plate  and 
chain  armour,  swords  of  every  make  and  date,  all  arrayed  in 
admirable  order,  shields,  racks  of  muskets,  and  all  the  para- 
phernalia of  the  various  Lyceum  repertory.  Thence  they 
passed  into  the  reception-room,  which  was  none  other  than 
the  club-room  of  the  old  Beefsteak  Club,  enlarged  to  its 
fullest  extent,  with  Tudor  arches  and  groined  ceiling,  its 
oaken  panelled  walls  of  soft  green,  rich  with  choice  paintings, 
conspicuous  among  which  was  Long's  portrait  of  Irving  as 
Richard  III.  The  room  was  set  with  beautiful  furniture  of 
various  periods,  a  number  of  high  palms  and  graceful  foliage 
plants,  placed  in  every  corner,  forming  an  admirable  back- 
ground. At  a  few  minutes  before  twelve,  a  move  to  the 
supper-room  took  place,  the  host  bringing  with  him  Lord 
Houghton  and  Admiral  Sir  Henry  Keppel,  who  sat  at  his 
right  hand  and  his  left,  supported  by  the  Earls  of  Dunraven, 
Fife,  and  Onslow,  Lord  Londesborough,  Sir  Frederick 
Pollock,  Admiral  Gordon,  Sir  Coutts  Lindsay,  Sir  Henry 
Thompson,  Sir  Charles  Young,  Sir  Gordon  Cumming,  Tom 
Taylor,  J.  L.  Toole,  Mr.  (as  he  then  was)  Alma  Tadema, 
W.  G.  Wills,  Major-General  Hutchinson,  Mr.  (now  Sir 
Squire)  Bancroft,  and  a  host  of  others.  There  were  nine 
long  tables,  eight  from  the  concealed  footlights  upwards,  and 


i88o]  A  BRILLIANT  GATHERING  313 

one  across.  It  was  a  very  remarkable  sight ;  the  huge 
pavilion  with  its  myriad  lights  and  brilliant  lines  and  fairy- 
like  melting  distance,  as  the  light  of  the  theatre,  kept  full 
ablaze,  shone  dimly  through  the  canvas  like  starlight  upon  a 
summer  sea ;  the  great  banner  with  its  legend  of  crimson  on 
a  ground  of  grey  velvet — "At  first  and  last  the  hearty 
welcome,"  which  hung  on  the  tent  wall  opposite  to  the  dais 
table,  the  beautiful  grouping  of  palms  and  exotics  which 
ranged  the  walls,  and  the  wealth  of  flowers  which  graced  the 
tables.  Not  merely  these  features  were  remarkable,  but  the 
elements  of  which  the  gathering  was  composed.  One  could 
not  look  in  any  direction  without  seeing  dozens  of  faces  of 
men  conspicuous  for  their  acts. 

It  must  have  been  a  proud  moment  for  Henry  Irving,  as 
he  sat  at  the  head  of  his  table,  ringed  round  by  all  the  leaders 
of  his  time,  and  granted  the  premier  position  in  his  chosen  art 
by  the  suffrages  of  all.  The  supper  was  a  very  elaborate 
affair  ;  during  its  progress  a  quintet  discoursed  soft  and  finished 
music,  and  at  its  close  when  the  host  proposed  the  loyal  toast 
"the  Queen  and  the  Royal  Family,"  a  choir  of  boys'  voices 
broke  out  into  the  National  Anthem.  The  music  from  the 
unseen  musicians  stole  softly  through  the  empty  house  and  fell 
on  the  ears  of  those  within  the  pavilion  with  the  quiet  faint- 
ness  of  distance.  The  attendants  then  brought  round  books 
of  "  The  Merchant  of  Venice,"  as  arranged  by  Irving,  specially 
prepared  for  the  occasion.  They  were  bound  in  white  parch- 
ment and  lettered  in  gold,  the  cover  as  well  as  the  title-page 
containing  the  dates  of  the  production  of  the  piece  at  the 
Lyceum  and  of  the  hundredth  performance.  In  the  first 
page  of  each  was  printed  in  red  letters  Irving's  favourite 
quotation  from  Richard  II.  Bound  in  the  volume  was  the 
bill  of  the  play  for  the  evening.  Presently  Lord  Houghton1 

1  Houghton,  Richard  Monckton  Milnes  (1809-1885),  poet,  educated 
at  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  where  he  was  an  "  Apostle  "  and  a  friend 
of  Tennyson,  Hallam,  and  Thackeray  ;  M.A.,  1831  ;  travelled  1832-6  ; 
Conservative  M.P.,  Pontefract,  1837;  did  much  to  secure  the  Copyright 
Act ;  published  poems  of  a  meditative  kind,  and  political  and  social  writ- 
ings. 


314    THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING    [CHAP.  XVIIL 

arose  amid  a  hush  of  expectation,  to  propose  the  one  toast  of 
the  evening.  It  was  in  the  course  of  his  speech  that  the  un- 
expected happened.  He  said  :  "This  was  a  convivial  and 
private  meeting,  but  he  was  commanded  to  give  them  a  toast— 
'  The  health  of  Mr.  Henry  Irving  and  the  Lyceum  Theatre'. 
The  occasion  on  which  they  met  was  a  centenary  of  the  per- 
formance of  'The  Merchant  of  Venice'.  He  did  not  like 
centenaries,  but  *  Our  Boys '  had  had  a  great  many  cen- 
tenaries and  therefore  our  men  should  have  more.  'The 
Bells  of  Corneville'  had  been  ringing  on  he  did  not  know 
how  many  nights,  and  '  The  Bells '  of  Alsace  nearly  as  many. 
For  his  part,  looking  back  to  the  days  of  his  youth,  he  pre- 
ferred the  arrangement  by  which  the  same  pieces  came  on 
never  more  than  twice  a  week,  when  one  could  see  various 
actors  in  various  r61es  with  various  and  additional  interest,  and 
he  was  not  sure  that  the  present  system  did  not  entail  upon 
the  performers  great  personal  exertions  almost  to  the  injury  of 
their  health,  and  he  was  quite  sure  it  could  not  be  any  great 
benefit  to  art.  But  things  must  be  accepted  as  they  were, 
and  it  was  under  that  state  of  things  that  Mr.  Irving  had 
accepted  the  management  of  that  theatre,  and  he  had  done 
so  under  very  favourable  auspices,  for  dramatic  art  was 
popular  with  all  classes.  He  had  come  also  at  a  time  when 
the  stage  was  purified  very  much  from  the  impurity,  and  it 
might  be  the  scandal  attaching  to  it  before,  so  that  the  tradi- 
tion of  good  breeding  and  high  conduct  was  not  confined  to 
special  families,  like  the  Kembles,  or  to  special  individuals, 
like  Young  or  Mr.  Irving  himself,  but  had  spread  over  the 
larger  part  of  the  whole  profession,  so  that  families  of  condition 
were  ready  to  allow  their  sons,  after  a  university  education,  to 
enter  into  the  dramatic  profession.  There  had  been  a  school 
of  historians  who  had  taken  upon  themselves  to  rehabilitate 
all  the  great  villains  of  the  world.  These  historians  made 
Nero  and  Tiberius  only  a  little  diverted  from  their  benevolent 
intention,  either  by  the  wish  to  promote  order  amongst  their 
people  or  by  an  inordinate  love  of  art.  They  made  Richard 
III.  a  most  amiable  sovereign,  particularly  fond  of  nephews, 


i88o]  A  TRUE  ARTIST  315 

while  French  historians  showed  that  Marat  and  Robespierre 
were  only  prevented  from  regenerating  the  human  race  by 
their  dislike  to  shedding  human  blood.  While  upon  that 
stage  they  had  seen  a  rehabilitation  of  something  of  the  same 
nature,  for  the  old  Jew,  Shy  lock,  who  was  regarded  usually 
as  a  ferocious  monster,  whose  sole  desire  was  to  avenge  him- 
self in  the  most  brutal  manner  on  the  Christians  of  his  neigh- 
bourhood, had  become  a  gentleman  of  the  Hebrew  persuasion, 
with  the  manners  of  Rothschild,  and  not  more  ferocious  than 
became  an  ordinary  merchant  of  the  period,  afflicted  with  a 
stupid,  foolish  servant,  and  a  wilful,  pernicious  daughter ;  and 
the  process  went  on  till  the  Hebrew  gentleman,  led  by  a 
strange  chance  into  the  fault  of  wishing  to  vindicate  in  his  own 
person  the  injuries  of  centuries  of  wrong  to  his  ancestors,  is 
foiled  by  a  very  charming  woman ;  but  he,  nevertheless, 
retired  as  the  avenger  of  the  wrongs  of  centuries  heaped  upon 
his  race,  accompanied  by  the  tears  of  women  and  the  admira- 
tion of  men.  He  could  quite  imagine  if  Mr.  Irving  chose  to 
personate  I  ago  he  would  be  regarded,  not  as  a  violent,  but  as 
a  very  honest  man,  only  devoted  to  the  object  of  preserving 
the  honour  of  his  wife  ;  or  if  he  chose  to  resume  the  character 
of  Alfred  Jingle  he  would,  instead  of  a  disreputable  character, 
go  down  to  posterity  as  nothing  more  than  an  amiable  young 
man  who  wished  to  marry  the  maiden  aunt  and  give  her  some 
of  the  joys  of  married  life.  But  there  was  one  character 
which  Mr.  Irving  would  never  pervert  or  misrepresent,  and 
that  was  his  own.  He  would  always  show  in  the  manage- 
ment of  his  theatre  the  dramatic  spirit  which  his  country 
demanded.  He  would  always  be  the  true  artist,  loving  art 
for  its  own  sake,  following  in  the  personalities  which  he  re- 
presented no  mere  dramatic  form,  not  merely  tradition,  but 
carrying  out  as  best  he  could  the  high  forms  of  his  own  great 
imagination.  They  would  see  him  in  his  relations  with  others, 
as  in  the  management  of  the  theatre — and  that  was^a  very 
large  relation — they  would  see  him  considerate  to  all  about 
him,  kind  and  cognisant  of  the  merits  of  others — a  very  difficult 
thing  in  all  forms  of  art,  and  especially  in  the  one  Mr.  Irving 


316    THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING    [CHAP.  xvm. 

occupied.  He  believed  that  under  these  circumstances  Mr. 
Irving  would  achieve  a  great  name,  and  that  when  the 
children's  children  of  those  at  that  gathering  were  reading  the 
dramatic  annals  of  the  present  time,  and  found  how  highly 
the  name  of  Mr.  Irving  had  been  mentioned  under  all  con- 
ditions of  dramatic  life,  they  would  be  proud  to  find  from  their 
family  traditions  that  their  progenitors  had  been  there  that 
night."  Lord  Houghton  concluded  by  proposing  the  health 
of  Mr.  Irving,  which  was  drunk  with  enthusiasm,  the  guests 
rising  to  do  honour  to  the  toast. 

The  speech  was  not  a  happy  one,  nor  in  good  taste  for 
such  an  occasion — -the  celebration  of  the  marked  success  of  a 
play — and  it  seemed  to  disappoint  the  listeners  till  the  last 
sentence  or  two,  which  they  received  with  such  applause  as 
showed,  by  contrast,  their  dissatisfaction  at  the  cynical  mirth 
of  the  speaker.  On  rising  to  reply,  Mr.  Irving  was  received 
with  loud  and  continuous  cheers  and  the  waving  of  handker- 
chiefs, which,  in  the  great  expanse  of  the  room,  produced  a  very 
peculiar  effect.  He  said  that  it  had  been  his  intention  not  to 
afflict  his  guests  with  any  long  set  speeches.  He  had,  how- 
ever, been  over-ruled  by  a  dear  and  valued  friend,  who  told  him 
it  was  nonsense ;  that  his  health  would  have  to  be  proposed, 
and  who  had  undertaken  to  nominate  the  proposer.  Lord 
Houghton  had  kindly  undertaken  the  task,  so  that  he  had  not 
been  taken  by  surprise  at  the  toast  being  given.  He  had 
been  thinking  of  what  to  say  in  response,  but  as  Lord  Hough- 
ton  had  not,  as  he  had  anticipated,  described  him  as  the  most 
extraordinary  person  that  had  ever  trod  the  face  of  the  earth, 
who  had  done  wonders  for  dramatic  art  and  other  things — not 
a  bit  of  which  he  believed  himself — his  speech  in  reply  had 
been  knocked  into  a  cocked  hat.  He  was  very  much  indebted, 
however,  to  Lord  Houghton,  for  during  his  speech  he  had  be- 
gun to  think  seriously  about  a  play  which  he  had  in  his  pos- 
session— an  admirable  play  in  five  acts — in  blank  verse.  It 
was  not  by  Lord  Houghton,  but  perhaps  by  a  friend  of  his. 
It  was  called  "The  After- Life  of  Shylock".  The  last  scene 
might  be  made  singularly  effective — Shylock  returning  to 


:88oJ  A  CLEVER  SPEECH  317 

Belmont  with  a  basket  of  lemons  on  his  .back.  Being 
pathetically  told  in  blank  verse,  he  did  not  know  but  that  this 
side  of  Shylock  might  be  made  interesting  for  all  the  tribe, 
and,  as  it  was  a  very  large  one,  their  sympathy  and  counten- 
ance contributed  a  great  deal  towards  the  success  of  any  play. 
They  came  from  all  parts  to  see  "The  Merchant  of  Venice," 
and  the  only  people  who  did  not  like  it  were  the  Germans. 
Seriously,  however,  he  did  not  know  how  to  thank  them  for 
the  kind  way  in  which  they  had  responded  to  the  toast ;  but, 
however,  they  could  not  at  that  hour  discuss  Shylock,  for  they 
were  not  a  Shakespearean  debating  society.  He  desired,  on 
his  own  behalf,  and  as  equally  on  behalf  of  one  who  was  not 
present,  but  who  had  contributed  so  greatly  to  the  success  of 
"  The  Merchant  of  Venice,"  and  who,  he  could  not  but  regret, 
was  unable  to  grace  that  board  with  her  wit  and  beauty,  and, 
on  behalf  of  all  the  Lyceum  company,  present  and  absent,  to 
thank  the  noble  lord  for  the  kind  and  friendly  manner  in 
which  he  had  spoken  of  them.  There  was  not  one  of  the 
company  who  was  not  pleased  at  the  meeting  to  celebrate  the 
hundredth  performance  of  "  The  Merchant  of  Venice  ".  They 
all  felt  as  modest  and  as  grateful  as  he  did  himself  that  they 
should  have  been  able  to  carry  on  the  play  so  long,  a  result 
which  he  did  not  think  could  have  been  attained  if  Shylock 
had  been  the  Whitechapel  old  gentleman  which  he  has  been 
sometimes  represented,  and  which  appeared  to  be  the  ideal 
of  the  character  in  the  mind  of  my  Lord  Houghton,  but  which 
was  certainly  not  his  own  conception.  Though  people  would 
come  to  the  thousandth  representation  of  "The  Corsican 
Brothers,"  "The  Merchant  of  Venice"  was  proverbially  an 
unpopular  play,  and  they  could  only  be  grateful  for  the  gifts 
which  the  gods  had  provided.  Again  he  must  thank  one  and 
all  of  his  guests  for  honouring  him  with  their  presence ;  and 
although  they  had  not,  as  they  did  to  the  fair  lady  of  Belmont, 
come  from  the  four  corners  of  the  earth,  to  this  place,  they 
had  certainly  come  from  the  four  corners  of  Great  Britain  and 
Ireland.  Looking  round  the  tables  he  saw  men  of  all  stations 
and  of  all  creeds ;  and  knowing  that  they  were  allied  by  the 


3i8    THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING    [CHAP.  xvm. 

ties  of  art  and  friendship,  he  believed  that  Shakespeare  him- 
self, if  he  could  be  present,  would  rejoice  to  think  that  the  seed 
he  had  sown  broad-cast  three  centuries  ago  had  borne  such 
good  fruit,  and  that  the  work  which  he  had  done  for  the  sake 
of  art  brought  fortune  in  its  wake.  He  could  not  say  more 
in  conclusion,  than  by  repeating  the  beautiful  words  of  Shake- 
speare : — 

I  count  myself  in  nothing  else  so  happy 
As  in  a  soul  rememb'ring  my  good  friends. 

At  the  conclusion  of  his  speech,  which  was  delivered  with 
grace  and  dignity,  the  actor  received  a  perfect  ovation.  All 
the  guests  stood  up,  and  cheer  after  cheer,  again  and  again  re- 
peated, rang  through  the  pavilion.  It  was  a  sight  never  to 
be  forgotten,  and  every  actor  in  the  room  felt  that  the  occasion 
had  done  much  for  the  dignity  of  his  art  and  the  social  status 
of  the  actor. 

Immediately  after  the  adjournment  to  the  smoking-room, 
Irving's  great  friend,  the  late  J.  L.  Toole,  apparently  dis- 
satisfied with  the  tone  and  manner  of  the  proposal  of  the  toast 
of  the  evening,  himself  made  a  speech  in  reference  to  the 
occasion,  and  a  more  graceful,  earnest,  or  generous  setting 
forth  of  the  views  of  himself  and  his  brother  actors  could  not 
have  been  given.  The  hearty  approval  and  continuous  ap- 
plause which  his  eloquent  words  evoked  did  credit  to  the  general 
good  feeling  which  prevailed.  The  night  was  not  long  enough 
for  the  entertainment,  for  daylight  came  upon  the  company 
smoking  in  the  Beefsteak  Room,  whilst  still  unwilling  to  de- 
part. So  closed  one  of  the  most  brilliant  gatherings  ever 
held  under  the  auspices  of  dramatic  art. 

A  characteristic  act  of  generosity  was  performed  by  the 
actor-manager  during  the  early  part  of  the  run  of  "The 
Merchant  of  Venice".  Not  only  did  he  lend  his  theatre,  but 
he  played  Digby  Grant,  for  the  benefit  of  an  old  actor, 
William  Belford,  who  had  fallen  on  evil  times.  The  entertain- 
ment took  place  on  Wednesday  afternoon,  loth  December, 
1879,  and  realised  the  sum  of  ^1,100,  so  that  the  last  days 
of  the  veteran  player — he  died  within  two  years  of  the  benefit 


END  OF  THE  SEASON  319 

—were  relieved  from  pecuniary  anxiety.  Miss  Ellen  Terry 
also  appeared  on  this  occasion,  and  delivered  an  address  from 
the  pen  of  Mr.  Clement  Scott,  who,  by  the  way,  wrote  that 
the  impersonation  of  Digby  Grant  was  infinitely  better  than 
that  of  1870.  Five  months  later,  Irving  acted  another  part 
which  he  had  already  played,  although  in  another  version  of 
the  same  story.  It  will  be  recalled  that  in  June,  1876,  he  had 
acted  Count  Tristan,  the  young  lover,  in  "  King  Rene's 
Daughter,"  to  the  lolanthe  of  Helen  Faucit,  for  his  own 
benefit.  On  2Oth  May,  1880,  for  the  benefit  of  Miss  Ellen 
Terry,  a  new  adaptation  of  Henrik  Hertz's  poem,  made  by 
W.  G.  Wills,  was  given — after  the  fourth  act  of  "  The  Mer- 
chant of  Venice" — under  the  title  of  "  lolanthe,"  and  Irving  was 
the  Tristan  to  Miss  Terry's  lolanthe.  Towards  the  end  of  the 
season,  a  few  performances  of  "  The  Bells"  and  "Charles  the 
First"  took  place.  The  programme  for  the  last  night,  3ist 
July,  was,  as  usual  on  these  occasions,  a  miscellaneous  one. 
"Charles  the  First"  was  followed  by  songs  by  Mr.  Herbert 
Reeves  and  a  reading  by  Mrs.  (now  Lady)  Bancroft ;  Sims 
Reeves  sang  "  The  Bay  of  Biscay  "  and  "  Tom  Bowling  "  ;  Miss 
Terry  recited — for  the  first  time — "  Monk  "  Lewis's  poem, 
"The  Captive";  and  J.  L.  Toole  gave  his  favourite  sketch, 
"  Trying  a  Magistrate  ".  Irving's  recitation  of  the  "  Dream  of 
Eugene  Aram  "  was  still  popular — and  remained  so  throughout 
his  career — despite  the  complaints  of  a  certain  Sunday  paper. 
A  speech  on  such  occasions  was  an  invariable  part  of  the  pro- 
gramme. In  the  course  of  his  address  to  his  friends,  Irving 
apologised  for  not  having  been  able  to  keep  his  word  in  certain 
respects.  "When  I  stood  before  you  this  time  last  year,"  he 
said,  "  I  laid  down  a  programme  of  intentions  for  this  past  season 
which  I  honestly  intended  to  fulfil.  In  my  intentions,  however, 
I  was  frustrated  by  those  of  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  million  of 
people.  Having  bowed  to  their  wish,  I  am  obliged  to  appear 
before  you  as  a  man  guilty  in  a  way  of  a  breach  of  promise— 
of  breaches  of  several  promises.  Your  judgment  of  the  play 
which  has  occupied  nearly  the  whole  of  the  past  season — '  The 
Merchant  of  Venice' — was  spoken  with  no  uncertain  voice, 


320    THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING    [CHAP.  xvm. 

and  that  your  judgment  was  right  in  the  minds  of  the  larger 
portion  who  were  not  here  to  give  their  opinion  on  the  first  of 
last  November  was  shown  by  the  fact  that  for  250  perform- 
ances the  piece  held  the  Lyceum  stage.  I  shall,  therefore, 
take  to  heart  the  lesson  of  last  season,  and  when  telling  you 
of  our  hopes  for  the  next,  I  shall  merely  say  definitely  what 
we  are  going  to  open  with,  and  then,  lest  you  should  think 
that  I  am  vain  enough  to  suppose  that  every  piece  will  run  a 
season,  I  shall  promise  that  no  piece  shall  be  kept  in  the  bills 
longer  than  you  desire.  I  have  several  plays  to  produce,  and 
when  I  think  of  the  number  of  them,  I  am  inclined  to  hope 
that  some  of  them  will  be  disastrous  failures  ;  for  really  if  they 
all  prove  successes,  I  shall  be  placed  in  an  awkward  position- 
in  fact  tossed  on  the  horns  of  a  dilemma  ;  either  I  shall  have  to 
break  faith  with  you  by  not  doing  what  I  wish  to  do,  or  I  shall 
have  to  fly  in  the  face  of  Providence  by  exceeding  the  limit  of 
years  allotted  to  man.  I  have  a  play  by  Alfred  Tennyson — a 
very  remarkable  play — -which  I  shall  positively  produce  in  the 
coming  season.  I  have  also  a  play  by  Mr.  Wills  in  my  pos- 
session— another  remarkable  play,  I  believe — on  the  subject 
of  Rienzi.  I  have  also  in  my  possession  an  historical  drama 
by  Mr.  Frank  Marshall  Mr.  Alma  Tadema  has  completed 
his  magnificent  series  of  studies  for  Coriolanus,  and  there  is 
another  Shakespearean  play  I  wish  to  produce  as  soon  as 
possible — that  is,  if  the  public  will  only  be  good  enough  to 
help  me  a  little  by  staying  away.  However,  I  shall  open 
about  the  middle  of  September  with  '  The  Corsican  Brothers,' 
and  shall  hope  to  see  on  the  opening  night  many  of  those 
friends  whose  faces  cheer  and  gladden  me  to-night.  I  must 
thank  you  for  your  reception  to-night,  not  only  of  myself,  but 
of  all  my  fellows  who  have  come  forward  on  this  occasion. 
As  they  have  not  the  opportunity  of  thanking  you  personally, 
it  is  my  privilege  to  do  so  for  them,  and  I  must  thank 
them  myself.  It  is  a  very  great  delight  to  be  surrounded  by 
such  friends.  I  feel,  in  conclusion,  I  should  before  you,  and 
in  the  most  public  way  I  can,  thank  all  the  members  of  the 
Lyceum  for  their  good  and  loyal  services  during  the  season. 


i88o] 


RECEIPTS  FOR  THE  SEASON 


321 


You  will  be  more  than  glad  to  know  that  I  have  been  for- 
tunate in  retaining  the  services,  in  spite  of  innumerable  baits 
to  take  her  away,  of  Miss  Ellen  Terry,  and  how  you  appreci- 
ate her  exceptional  gifts  is  shown  by  your  reception  of  her  to- 
night. For  myself,  I  thank  you  again  and  again,  and  au 
revoir  with  a  hearty  good-bye." 

The  receipts  for  this  season  amounted  to  the  respectable 
sum  of  ,£59,000 — an  average  of  close  upon  ^200,  a  perform- 
ance. Of  this  amount,  ^500  was  brought  in  by  the  sale  of 
the  books  of  "  The  Merchant  of  Venice".  The  monetary 
capacity  of  the  Lyceum  was  much  smaller  then  than  in  1882, 
and  subsequently,  as  will  be  gathered  later  on. 


vou  I. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

i8th  September,  1880 — 2Qth  July,  1881. 

Mr.  Pinero's  "Bygones" — Favourable  comment — "The  Corsican 
Brothers"  revived — Introduction  of  the  souvenir — "The  Cup"  in  prepara- 
tion— Tennyson  and  "Becket" — Cost  of  production  of  "The  Cup" — A 
notable  audience — Camma  and  Synorix — "  The  Belle's  Stratagem  "  revived — 
Edwin  Booth  at  the  Lyceum — The  true  story  of  this  engagement — Booth's 
testimony — Also,  William  Winter's — Booth's  tribute  to  Irving — Various 
revivals — Irving  as  Modus — His  speech  on  the  last  night  of  the  season — 
Takes  the  chair  at  the  Theatrical  Fund  Dinner — A  satirical  speech — In- 
teresting reminiscences. 

ACCORDING  to  the  promise  made  in  July,  the  Lyceum  was 
re-opened  on  i8th  September,  with  Henry  Irving — Miss  Ellen 
Terry  was  again  touring  the  country  on  her  own  account- 
in  "The  Corsican  Brothers".  On  the  same  evening,  and 
preceding  the  chief  piece,  Mr.  Pinero's  "  Bygones"  was  brought 
out.  The  staging  of  a  new  first  piece  on  such  a  night  was 
an  innovation  which  was  hailed  with  delight  by  all  play -goers, 
especially  the  patrons  of  the  cheaper  parts  of  the  house.  To 
modern  ideas,  the  innovation  may  not  seem  so  important  as 
it  really  was.  The  almost  startling  nature  of  the  change, 
however,  drew  much  favourable  comment  to  the  management 
of  the  Lyceum.  "  Punctuality,  order,  and  good  taste  are  the 
watchwords  of  Mr.  Irving's  management,"  Clement  Scott 
pointed  out  in  the  Daily  Telegraph,  "and  the  days  of  discord 
during  the  preliminary  piece  are  at  an  end.  Time  was  when 
managers  had  too  much  to  think  about  with  their  novelty  to  at- 
tend to  pretty  plays  for  opening  the  evening's  entertainment, 
and  were  content  that  an  exciting  melodrama  should  be  pre- 
ceded by  a  noisy  farce,  indifferently  acted.  Discipline  can 
soon  correct  this  error,  and  those  who  had  taken  the  trouble 
to  come  early  were  rewarded  with  a  great  treat  in  the  shape 

322 


i88o]  MR.  PINERO'S  "  BYGONES  "  323 

of  a  charming  one-act  play,  full  of  gentle  and  refined  feeling. 
Tinged  with  an  occasional  flavouring  of  genial  humour,  and 
acted  extremely  well,  Mr.  A.  W.  Pinero  would  have  been 
pleased,  could  he  have  taken  his  attention  from  the  character 
he  was  acting  so  well,  to  find  that  he  had  touched  the  hearts 
of  his  audience  by  the  simple  pathos  of  his  homely  story.  .  .  . 
Freshly  written,  neatly  constructed,  and  with  a  decided  origin- 
ality in  the  treatment  of  an  old  story,  *  Bygones '  not  only 
pleasantly  opened  the  evening  with  a  pretty  surprise,  but  the 
applause  that  greeted  the  young  author  must  have  assured 
him  that  whenever  he  makes  a  bolder  bid  for  fame,  he  will 
receive  the  sympathetic  encouragement  of  those  who  have 
watched  his  brief  career  with  interest,  and  who  see  far  more 
than  average  merit  in  his  well-considered  and  conscientious 
work.  The  pathetic  simplicity  and  comic  innocence  of  a 
simple,  old  gentleman  as  played  by  Mr.  Pinero,  had  a  charm- 
ing contrast  in  the  freshness  and  simplicity  of  Miss  Alma 
Murray  as  the  girlish  heroine,  Ruby." 

This  was  a  good  beginning,  and  but  heightened  the  ex- 
pectancy with  which  "  The  Corsican  Brothers  "*  was  awaited. 
This  kind  of  melodrama  is  now  out  of  fashion  in  West-end 
London — although  "The  Corsican  Brothers"  was  played 
with  success  by  Mr.  Martin  Harvey,  long  a  member  of  the 
Lyceum  company,  for  a  brief  season  at  the  Adelphi  Theatre 
in  the  autumn  of  1907 — but  Irving,  relying  upon  his  own 
individuality  and  popularity,  which  he  was  careful  to  supple- 

"  Les  Freres  Corses,"  the  famous  story  by  Alexandre  Dumas,  was  first 
adapted  to  the  stage  in  1850.  On  loth  August  of  that  year  it  was  pre- 
sented at  the  Theatre  Historique,  Paris.  There  were  several  English 
versions,  but  the  best  of  them  was  that  made  by  Dion  Boucicault — a  very 
clever  specimen  of  this  kind  of  work,  by  the  way — for  Charles  Kean,  who 
produced  it  at  the  Princess's  Theatre  on  24th  February,  1852.  This  was 
the  version  used  by  Irving.  Fechter,  who  was  the  original  stage  represen- 
tative of  the  brothers,  in  Paris,  brought  out  a  version  at  the  Lyceum  on 
iyth  May,  1866.  He  excluded  the  sliding-trap  and  he  made  but  little  use 
of  the  famous  "ghost  melody".  G.  H.  Lewes  thought  that  Kean,  in  the 
lighter  scenes  of  the  two  first  acts,  wanted  the  light  and  graceful  ease  of 
Fechter ;  but  in  the  more  serious  scenes  and  throughout  the  third  act,  he 
surpassed  the  Frenchman  with  all  the  weight  and  intensity  of  a  tragic  actor 
in  situations  for  which  the  comedian  is  unsuited. 

21  * 


324     THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xix. 


ment  with  a  fine  production,  secured  a  profitable  return 
from  his  revival  of  the  old  piece.  Irving  contrasted  the 
twin  brothers  most  admirably,  and,  in  the  scenes  with 
Chateau  Renaud,  he  quite  overpowered  the  late  William 
Terriss.  His  best  effect  was  in  the  duel  scene  in  the  last 
act.  His  calm,  determined  appearance  suggested  the  very 
embodiment  of  fate.  "  He  seldom  has  acted  so  well,  with 
such  solidity  and  purpose,"  said  a  contemporary  critic. 


THE  CORSICAN  BROTHERS. 
Revived  at  the  Lyceum,  i8th  September,  1880. 


M.  FABIEN  DEI  FRANCHI  \ 
M.  Louis  DEI  FRANCHI    / 
M.  DE  CHATEAU  RENAUD 
THE  BARON  DE  MONTGIRON    - 
M.  ALFRED  MEYNARD 
COLONA  -        - 
ORLANDO         - 
ANTONIO  SANOLA    - 
GIORDANO  MARTELLI 

GRIFFO 

BOISSEC 

M.  VERNER     - 

TOMASO  - 

M.  BEAUCHAMP       - 

A  SURGEON     - 

EMILIE  DE  LESPARRE 

MADAME  SAVILIA  DEI  FRANCHI 

MARIE     - 

CORALIE 

CELESTINE      - 

ESTELLE 

ROSE 

EUGENIE          - 


Mr.  HENRY  IRVING. 

Mr.  W.  TERRISS. 
Mr.  ELWOOD. 
Mr.  PINERO. 
Mr.  JOHNSON. 
Mr.  MEAD. 
Mr.  TAPPING. 
Mr.  TYARS. 
Mr.  ARCHER. 
Mr.  CARTER. 
Mr.  HUDSON. 
Mr.  HARWOOD. 
Mr.  FERRAND. 
Mr.  LOUTHER. 
Miss  FOWLER. 
Miss  PAUNCEFORT. 
Miss  HARWOOD. 
Miss  ALMA  MURRAY. 
Miss  BARNETT. 
Miss  HOULISTON. 
Miss  COLERIDGE. 
Miss  MORELEY. 


ACT  I.,  SCENE  i.  Corsica — Hall  and  Terrace  of  the  Chateau 
of  the  Dei  Franchi  at  Cullacaro.  The  Apparition.  The 
Vision.  ACT  II.,  SCENE  i.  Paris — Bal  de  1'Opera ;  SCENE  2. 
Lobby  of  the  Opera  House  ;  SCENE  3.  Salon  in  the  House  of 
Montgiron ;  SCENE  4.  The  Forest  of  Fontainebleau.  The 
Vision.  ACT  III.,  SCENE.  Fontainebleau — Glade  in  the 
Forest.  The  Duel.  The  Vision. 


"  There  he  stood,  defiant,  with  vengeance  in  his  eyes  and 
scorn  in  his  accent.  Surely  he  knows  that  this  man  must 
die  at  his  hands,  and  so  he  does  not  shrink  from  his  ter- 
rible purpose.  To  make  the  scene  completely  effective, 
Chateau  Renaud  should  play  the  game  as  firmly  from  his 
point  of  view  as  Fabien  does.  We  should  scarcely  sympa- 
thise with  the  practised  duellist,  who  appears  to  us  absolutely 


i88o]        "THE  CORSICAN  BROTHERS"  325 

powerless  in  the  hands  of  the  Corsican — powerless  all  through, 
at  the  first  and  the  last.       However,  the  scene  is  effective 
as  it  was,  intense,  weird,  and  gloomy — and  what  is  lost  in  the 
presence  of  Chateau  Renaud  is  gained  in  the  poetic  accessories 
of  the  scene  that  closes  the  story  with  solemnity,  but  makes 
a  marked  impression  upon  the  beholders."     It  is  indicative 
of  Irving's  policy  that  while  he  thought  it  necessary  to  decor- 
ate the  play  to  the  best  of  his  ability — it  has  never  been 
presented,  apart   from  his  revivals,  so  sumptuously — he  re- 
tained, not  only  the  old-fashioned  "  ghost  melody  "  which  runs 
through  the  play,  but  the  still  more  old-fashioned  ghost  which 
came  up  through  a  trap-door,  facing  the  audience  in  stilted 
fashion.      It  was  in  vain  that  modern  inventions  in  the  matter 
of  lime-light  and  magic  lanterns  were  brought  to  his  notice. 
He   steadily   refused   all   the   examples   set   before   him   of 
the  ghosts  presented  by  conjurers.       He  had  made  up  his 
mind  to  have  the  old-fashioned  ghost — and  he  had  it.     "  The 
Corsican  Brothers"  drew  enormous  houses  to  the  Lyceum 
until  January,  when  a  new  play  by  the  Poet  Laureate  was 
produced.     It  was  then  acted  in  conjunction  with  that  piece, 
one  hundred  and  ninety  performances  being  given  during  the 
season.      "The  Corsican  Brothers"  was  reproduced  at  the 
Lyceum  in   1891 — May  to  July — and  acted,  together  with 
"  Nance  Oldfield,"  fifty-seven  times.     During  its  first  run  at 
the  Lyceum,  Irving  introduced  one  of  the  profitable  devices 
of  management — the   souvenir.      That   of   "The   Corsican 
Brothers  "  is  a  rather  quaint  brochure,  the  illustrations  of  which, 
and  the  style  of  printing,  are  now  completely  out-of-date,     In 
the    1 8 80-8 1  season,   this  source  of  revenue  brought  ^235 
odd  into  the  Lyceum  treasury.     During  November,  so  great 
was  the  demand  for  seats  at  the  Lyceum,  eight  performances 
a  week  had  to  be  given.       On  5th   October,  it  should  be 
recorded,  the  actor  managed  to  travel  to  Birmingham — with- 
out interrupting  the  performances  at  the  Lyceum — in  order 
to  open  a  bazaar  for  the  Perry  Bar  Institute,  of  which  he 
was  then  the  ex-president. 

While  "The  Corsican  Brothers"  was  in  the  full  tide  of 


326     THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xix. 

its  prosperity  at  the  Lyceum,  Miss  Ellen  Terry  was  appearing 
in  the  principal  provincial  towns,  together  with  Mr.  Kelly,  as 
Lilian  Vavasour,  Lady  Teazle,  and  Portia.  Her  most  re- 
markable achievement  at  this  period  was  the  performance  of 
Beatrice.  On  the  evening  of  Friday,  3rd  September,  1880, 
"  Miss  Ellen  Terry  will  play  Beatrice  for  the  first  time  on 
any  stage,  at  the  Grand  Theatre,  Leeds  ".  So  ran  the  pre- 
liminary announcement  of  what  proved  to  be  the  forerunner 
of  the  revival  at  the  Lyceum  of  "  Much  Ado  About  Nothing" 
one  of  the  most  brilliant  pages  in  the  achievements  of  Henry 
Irving.  In  July,  Irving  had  spoken  of  "a  remarkable  play" 
by  Alfred  Tennyson.  This  was  "The  Cup,"  active  prepara- 
tions for  the  production  of  which  were  made  early  in  October. 
It  is  related  that  the  poet,  in  speaking  of  this  piece  to  his 
friend,  the  late  William  Allingham,  said  :  "  I  gave  Irving  my 
Thomas  a  Becket :  he  said  it  was  magnificent,  but  it  would 
cost  him  ,£3,000  to  mount  it :  he  couldn't  afford  the  risk.  If 
well  put  on  the  stage  it  would  act  for  a  time,  and  it  would  bring 
me  credit  (he  said),  but  it  wouldn't  pay.  He  said,  '  If  you 
give  something  short,  I'll  do  it'.  So  I  wrote  him  a  play  in 
two  acts,  *  The  Cup '."  It  is  further  related  that  on  the  4th  of 
the  month  preceding  the  actual  production,  the  late  Sir  James 
Knowles  wrote  to  the  Poet  Laureate  :  "  Irving  is  in  a  great 
state  of  excitement,  and  he  is  most  anxious  that  you  should 
read  over  the  play,  not  only  to  himself  and  Ellen  Terry,  but 
to  all  the  company  which  is  to  enact  it.  He  would  like  it  to 
be  on  next  Thursday  week,  when  Ellen  Terry  will  be  back 
in  town  and  everything  advanced  enough  to  make  such  a 
reading  of  the  greatest  and  most  opportune  value."  Now, 
as  to  the  "risk"  of  spending  ^3000  on  the  Becket  play,  that 
was  but  a  polite  way  of  postponing  a  piece  which,  in  its  written 
form,  was  unactable,  and,  as  Irving  knew  from  his  experience, 
in  1876,  with  the  same  writer's  "  Queen  Mary,"  good  poets  did 
not  always  write  good  plays.  It  was  not  a  question  of  money 
at  all :  he  knew  that  Becket  was  unsuitable  for  the  stage,  and, 
at  the  time,  it  would  have  been  injudicious  to  have  suggested 
the  drastric  compression  which  he  himself  afterwards  made. 


i88i] 


"THE  CUP" 


327 


As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  production  account  of  "The  Cup" 
amounted  to  ,£2,369  45.  id.,  and  that  of  Becket  to  ,£4,723 
is.  2d.  On  the  day  that  Knowles  wrote  to  Tennyson,  over 
£450  had  already  been  paid  out  on  account  of  scenery  for 
"The  Cup". 

The  production  took  place  on  Monday,  3rd  January,  1880, 
before  one  of  the  most  representative  audiences  ever  seen  at 
the  Lyceum  :  the  Prime  Minister,  Mr.  Gladstone,  with  Mrs. 
Gladstone  and  other  members  of  his  family,  occupied  one  of 


THE  CUP. 
First  acted  at  the  Lyceum,  3rd  January,  1881. 


GALATIANS 


SYNORIX  - 

SlNNATUS 

ATTENDANT 
BOY 
MAID 
PHCEBE     - 

GAMMA     - 


ROMANS : 


ANTONIUS 
PUBLIUS  - 
NOBLEMAN 
HERALD 


Mr.  IRVING. 
Mr.  TERRISS. 
Mr.  HARWOOD. 
Miss  BROWN. 
Miss  HARWOOD. 
Miss  PAUNCEFORT. 
Miss  ELLEN  TERRY. 


Mr.  TYARS. 
Mr.  HUDSON. 
Mr.  MATTHISON. 
Mr.  ARCHER. 


ACT  I.,  SCENE  i.  Distant  view  of  a  City  in  Galatia.  (After- 
noon) ;  SCENE  2.  A  room  in  the  Tetrarch's  house.  (Even- 
ing) ;  SCENE  3.  Distant  view  of  a  City  of  Galatia.  (Dawn.) 
Haifa  year  is  supposed  to  elapse  between  the  acts.  ACT  II., 
SCENE.  Interior  of  the  Temple  of  Artemis.  The  scene  is 
laid  in  Galatia,  a  Province  of  Asia  Minor. 


the  stage  boxes,  while  literature,  art,  and  science  furnished 
many  other  celebrities.  Flowers  were  rained  upon  Miss  Terry, 
and  the  calls  were  innumerable.  A  speech,  it  need  hardly  be 
said,  was  demanded,  and  the  actor-manager,  who  promised  to 
telegraph  the  news  of  the  success  of  the  piece  to  the  author, 
congratulated  himself  on  the  honour  of  producing  such  a  play, 
and  hinted  that  it  would  not  be  the  last  experiment  of  the  kind. 
As  "  The  Cup  "  has  now  passed  out  of  the  acted  drama — it 
would  never  have  seen  the  stage  save  for  the  special  circum- 
stances which  caused  its  production  at  the  Lyceum — it  is  un- 
necessary to  enter  into  details  concerning  the  acting.  The 


328     THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xix. 

case  for  the  play  and  the  players  was  summed  up  by  an  able 
writer  of  the  day  who,  after  discussing  the  work  of  the  poet 
and  the  merits  of  the  production,  said  :  "  All  these  things  are 
important  aids  to  a  dramatist ;  and  a  far  greater  one  is  to  be 
found  in  the  acting,  for  the  two  principal  characters,  Synorix 
and  Gamma,  are  filled  by  two  performers  capable  of  poetry  in 
its  highest  significance — Mr.  Henry  Irving  and  Miss  Ellen 
Terry.  Gamma  possesses  everything,  loses  nothing,  in  Miss 
Terry's  representation.  Her  fair  beauty,  her  movements,  free 
and  graceful,  her  tender  tones,  win  the  heart,  and  the  passion 
of  Synorix  is  at  once  understood.  She  wears  the  Greek  cos- 
tume as  if  she  had  been  born  in  it,  and  as  if  by  chance,  but 
probably  by  the  study  that  knows  how  to  conceal  itself,  she 
falls  into  positions  which  recall  the  best  of  the  Greek  sculp- 
tures. Her  song  of  love  and  fear  stirs  our  sweetest  emotions, 
and  when,  as  the  Priestess — white  and  cold,  with  a  stony 
stare — she  moves  on  to  her  act  of  meditated  punishment  or 
revenge,  she  does  not  strut,  or  bellow,  or  assume  a  new  char- 
acter, but  is  still  the  same  woman,  though  with  another  passion 
at  her  heart.  She  speaks  verse  with  an  appearance  of  spon- 
taneity, and  at  the  same  time  with  a  full  appreciation  of  the 
sound  and  music  of  the  poet.  Synorix  is  a  personage  who 
demands  all  Mr.  Irving's  skill  and  intellect  to  give  him  interest, 
for,  beyond  his  intelligence  and  strength  of  purpose,  he  has  no 
quality  to  call  our  sympathy.  As  now  acted,  he  is  interesting. 
His  ruling  passion,  his  craft,  his  courage,  and  the  destiny  to- 
wards which  he  seems  impelled  to  move,  are  so  shown  forth 
as  to  stimulate  and  constantly  engage  attention ;  yes,  even 
when,  the  glow  of  the  setting  sun  stealing  over  the  mountain 
tops  threaten  to  distract  general  observation  ;  and  one  of  the 
audience  exclaiming,  '  Oh !  look  at  the  sunset,  it  is  quite  real ! ' 
is  silenced  by  another,  who  replies  in  a  tone  of  rebuke,  *  Hush ! 
Irving  is  going  to  speak,  and  he  is  still  more  a  reality'." 

The  mounting  of  Tennyson's  drama  was  superb.  The 
scene  in  which  Synorix,  at  the  very  moment  of  his  triumph, 
when  the  laurel  wreath  binds  his  brow  and  love  seems  to 
crown  his  hopes,  is  destroyed  by  the  woman  who  appeared  to 


i88i]  BOOTH  AT  THE  LYCEUM  329 

yield  to  his  will  only  to  complete  her  revenge,  was  a  re- 
markable picture.  The  interior  of  the  temple  looked  like  a 
solid  piece  of  architecture ;  and  the  huge  figure  of  the  god- 
dess, Artemis,  the  grouping  of  the  worshippers,  the  invocation, 
and  the  thunderclap  which  answered  Gamma's  appeal,  gave  a 
wonderfully  vivid  realisation  of  the  solemnity  of  the  heathen 
rites.  "The  Cup,"  beautiful  as  it  was,  in  many  respects,  was 
not  sufficiently  long  for  an  evening's  entertainment.  So  it 
was  played  in  conjunction  with  "The  Corsican  Brothers"  until 
9th  April,  when  the  theatre  was  closed  for  a  few  nights 
during  Good  Friday  week.  When  the  Lyceum  re-opened, 
on  1 6th  April,  the  melodrama  was  replaced  by  "The  Belle's 
Stratagem,"  with  Miss  Terry  as  Letitia  Hardy  and  Irving  as 
Doricourt — the  character  which  he  had  first  acted  at  the  St. 
James's  Theatre  in  1866.  One  hundred  and  ninety  per- 
formances were  given  of  "  The  Corsican  Brothers,"  one 
hundred  and  twenty-seven  of  "The  Cup". 

The  next  event  at  the  Lyceum  was  one  of  the  most  re- 
markable incidents  in  the  history  of  the  theatre — the  appear- 
ance of  the  American  actor,  Edwin  Booth,  with  Henry 
Irving  and  Miss  Ellen  Terry,  in  "Othello".  Those  who 
have  followed  the  history  of  the  great  English  actor  so  far 
will  not  need  to  be  told  that  this  act  of  good  feeling  and 
generosity  has  been  frequently  misrepresented.  These 
slanders  have  long  ago  found  their  own  level,  but,  for  all  that, 
the  true  story  may  now  be  given,  and  an  interesting  one  it  is. 
It  has  frequently  been  stated  that  the  suggestion  that  Booth 
should  play  at  the  Lyceum  emanated  from  Irving,  as  a 
master-stroke  of  diplomacy.  But  the  true  state  of  the  case 
was  the  exact  opposite.  The  proposition  came  from  Booth. 
Precisely  two  years  before  he  did  appear  at  the  Lyceum,  the 
following  statement  was  authoritatively  issued  :  "  It  is  highly 
probable  that  Mr.  Booth  will  appear  with  Mr.  Irving  in  two 
or  three  pieces  at  the  Lyceum  Theatre,  London,  next  year  ". 
Booth  had  written  to  Irving,  and,  in  a  letter  dated  27th 
April,  1879,  from  Chicago,  he  mentions  that  he  had  not  yet 
had  a  reply  from  him.  The  suggestion  fell  through,  but  it 


330    THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING      [CHAP.  xix. 

was  revived,  as  a  consequence  of  Booth's  professional  visit  to 
England  in  1880.  On  6th  November,  of  that  year,  Booth 
began  an  engagement  at  the  Princess's  Theatre,  in  "  Hamlet." 
4 'The  choice  of  that  part,"  says  his  biographer,  William 
Winter,  "was  not,  perhaps,  judicious,  since  it  seemed  to 
challenge  comparison  with  the  reigning  favourite  of  the 
London  stage,  Henry  Irving.  Booth  was  apprised  that  the 
newspapers  in  general  would  be  hostile  to  him,  and  the  antici- 
pation of  harsh  treatment  thereupon  made  him  stern  and 
cold.  .  .  .  The  courteous  and  gelid  manner  commonly 
adopted  by  the  London  press,  and  sometimes  carried  to  a 
ludicrous  extreme,  is  not  always  accompanied  by  either 
depth  of  thought,  wisdom  of  judgment,  or  depth  of  feeling. 
Some  of  the  London  journals  talked  down  to  Booth  from  an 
Olympian  height  which  they  had  not  previously  been  sup- 
posed to  occupy.  In  the  main,  however,  he  was  received 
with  honour.  Many  pages  might  be  filled  with  tributes 
from  the  newspapers.  Booth's  embodiments  of  Richelieu, 
Bertuccio,  I  ago,  and  Lear  elicited  public  sympathy  and  en- 
thusiastic fervour." 

It  is  perfectly  obvious,  from  these  observations  by  the 
doyen  of  American  critics — and  one  of  Booth's  most  devoted 
friends — that  there  had  been  an  endeavour  to  promote 
hostile  feeling.  It  was  yet  another  case  of  "save  me  from 
my  friends".  In  1880,  London  was  an  unknown  land  to  all 
but  a  mere  handful  of  Americans,  and  even  they  did  not 
understand  either  London  or  its  newspaper  press.  It  was  a 
mistaken  policy  on  their  part  to  state  that  Henry  Irving  was 
jealous  of  their  representative  actor.  As  will  presently  be 
seen,  upon  the  testimony  of  Edwin  Booth,  the  men  were 
perfectly  good  friends  ;  they  met  at  the  houses  of  mutual  ac- 
quaintances, they  interchanged  the  ordinary  civilities  and 
courtesies  of  everyday  life.  When  Booth  first  appeared  in 
London  as  Hamlet,  the  performance  was  analysed  with 
marked  care  and  generous  good  feeling.  The  criticisms — or 
rather,  garbled  accounts  of  them — were  cabled  to  New 
York  and  made  the  subject  of  acrimonious  comment.  Booth 


i88i] 


BOOTH  AND  IRVING 


had  arrived  in  London,  at  the  end  of  August,  without  any 
definite  plan.  He  wanted  to  open  in  London  in  the  spring, 
but  he  "found  that  time  at  Drury  Lane  was  promised  to 
McCullough,  and  Irving  preparing  a  new  production  ".  In  this 
dilemma,  he  accepted  an  offer  to  play  at  the  newly-con- 
structed Princess's  Theatre,  "which  is  now  a  mass  of  ruins". 
The  remainder  of  the  story,  leading  up  to  his  appearance  at 
the  Lyceum  in  May,  1881,  is  contained  in  the  letters  written 
by  him,  from  November,  1880,  to  his  friends  in  America— 


OTHELLO. 

Revived  at  the  Lyceum,  2nd  May,  1881. 


OTHELLO 

IAGO 

CASSIO     - 

BRABANTIO 

RODERIGO 

DUKE 

MONTANO 

GRATIANO 
LUDOVICO 
MESSENGER 
PAULO 
ANTONIO  - 
JULIO 
MARCO     - 
EMILIA     - 
DESDEMONA 


Mr.  EDWIN  BOOTH. 
Mr.  HENRY  IRVING. 
Mr.  W.  TERRISS. 
Mr.  MEAD. 
Mr.  PINERO. 
Mr.  BEAUMONT. 
Mr.  TYARS. 
Mr.  CARTER. 
Mr.  HUDSON. 
Mr.  MATTHISON. 
Mr.  FERRAND. 
Mr.  CLIFFORD. 
Mr.  LOUTHER. 
Mr.  HARWOOD. 
Miss  PAUNCEFORT. 
Miss  ELLEN  TERRY. 


ACT  I.,  SCENE  i.  A  Street  in  Venice;  SCENE  2.  Another 
Street  in  Venice;  SCENE  3.  A  Council  Chamber.  ACT  II., 
SCENE  i.  The  Harbour  at  Cyprus;  SCENE  2.  A  Street  in 
Cyprus;  SCENES.  The  Court  of  Guard.  ACT  III.,  SCENE. 
Othello's  House.  ACT  IV.,  SCENE  i.  Othello's  House; 
SCENE  2.  A  Street  in  Cyprus;  SCENE  3.  Exterior  of  lago's 
House ;  ACT  V.,  SCENE.  A  Bedchamber. 


Edmund  Clarence  Stedman  and  David  C.  Anderson.  "  I've 
been  and  gone  and  done  it !  The  cable  has  told  you  all 
about  it,"  he  wrote,  a  week  after  his  appearance  at  the 
Princess's.  "I  cannot  but  add  that  the  feeling  for  me  is 
warming  every  day,  and  the  faint  praises  lavished  by  the 
press  have  tended  rather  to  increase  than  to  diminish  the 
interest.  From  various  high  places  I  have  kindly  words  of 
encouragement,  and  the  vista  looks  lovely.  After  the  pro- 
gramme is  changed  ('  Hamlet'  is  so  hackneyed!),  there  will 


332    THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING      [CHAP.  xix. 

also  be  a  change  of  tone  in  the  theatrical  columns  of  the 
papers.  The  few  attempts  at  criticism  I  have  seen  are  very 
feeble  and  wishy-washy.  Shakespeare  is  yet  a  sealed  book 
to  those  who  sit  in  judgment  on  the  actor."  He  certainly  had 
a  poor  opinion  of  London  critics,  for,  on  the  day  after  he  had 
penned  the  observations  just  quoted,  he  wrote  :  "the  myriad 
English  papers  have  been  full  of  me — all,  with  but  a  few  ex- 
ceptions, patting  me  on  the  back,  and  endeavouring  to  damn 
me  with  faint  praise.  But  the  public  is  with  me,  and  I  re- 
ceived many  cordial  congratulations  from  high  jink  nobs  of 
Britain.  As  we  used  to  say  in  the  classic  days,  *  Ye  goose 
'angs  %h,'  etc.,  and  in  a  few  weeks  I  shall  have  had  even 
the  'crickets'  chirping  pleasantly."  The  "crickets"  chirped 
pleasantly  enough  over  Booth's  Richelieu  and  Lear,  and  all 
was  well. 

But  the  American  actor  had  many  disadvantages  to  con- 
tend against.  On  i7th  December,  he  writes  :  "  Irving  called 
over,1  but  we  have  had  little  opportunity  to  chat.  I  have  the 
greatest  odds  to  battle  with  that  an  actor  ever  experienced,  in 
spite  of  all  the  good  in  my  favour  that  I  have  mentioned.  A 
deep-rooted  love  for  their  idol,  who  certainly  deserves  his 
reward  for  what  he  has  achieved  for  the  drama  here ;  an  un- 
popular theatre — that  is,  unpopular  with  the  first-class  element : 
for  years,  a  sort  of  '  Bowery,'  given  up  to  '  Drink,'  ' Streets  of 
London,'  etc. — and  a  sort  of  'Cheap  John'  management, 
with  a  wretched  company,  and  poorly  furnished  stage,  com- 
pared with  Irving's  superior  settings."  On  9th  January, 
Booth  wrote :  "  Irving  has  lately  been  very  genial  and  atten- 
tive ;  he  is  a  pleasant  fellow.  Yesterday  he  called,  and  we 
had  a  pleasant  hour  together.  He  gave  me  a  fine  copy  of  a 
celebrated  portrait  of  Richelieu,  and  we  are  to  lunch  together 
on  Wednesday  at  Lady  Burdett-Coutts'." 

1  Booth  stayed  at  the  now  demolished  St.  James's  Hotel  during  this 
visit.  He  frequently  mentioned  the  weather  in  his  letters.  For  instance  : 
"  I've  been  fortunate  in  weather,  very  few  fogs,  and  they  slight " — Amer- 
icans used  to  regard  London  in  winter  as  a  city  of  perpetual  fog.  "  The 
nights  are  really  beautiful,"  he  also  observed.  All  lovers  of  London  are 
aware  that  the  hours  between  midnight  and  dawn  are,  with  hardly  an  ex- 
ception, beautiful  indeed,  in  the  great  city. 


i88i]  BOOTH'S  EVIDENCE  333 

We  now  arrive  at  the  Lyceum  engagement,  and  the 
evidence  of  William  Winter  is  invaluable,  for  it  shows  pre- 
cisely how  it  was  effected.  Booth,  he  states,  "  had  formed 
the  plan  of  giving  a  series  of  morning  performances  in  London, 
to  include  a  round  of  parts,  and  he  now  proposed  to  Henry 
Irving  that  these  performances  should  occur  at  the  Lyceum 
Theatre.  Irving  at  once  accepted  that  proposal,  but  a  little 
later  suggested  a  combination  between  Booth  and  himself, 
with  the  purpose  of  presenting  '  Othello,'  and  alternating  the 
characters  of  Othello  and  I  ago — the  performances  to  be  given 
at  night.  That  plan,  conceived  by  Irving,  and  suggested  in 
a  spirit  of  rare  and  fine  generosity,  was  adopted,  and  on  2nd 
May,  1 88 1,  Booth  made  his  first  appearance  at  the  Lyceum 
Theatre,  performing  Othello.  Irving  was  lago — which  he 
played  for  the  first  time  in  his  life.  The  matchless  Ellen 
Terry  was  the  Desdemona.  The  picturesque  William 
Terriss  assumed  Cassio.  Mead,  with  his  sonorous  and  beauti- 
ful voice,  presented  Brabantio.  Miss  Pauncefort  appeared  as 
Emilia,  and  Mr.  Pinero  as  Roderigo." 

We  have  an  interesting  sidelight  on  this  engagement  from 
Booth  himself.  It  must  have  been  an  enormous  relief  to  him, 
after  his  trials  and  tribulations  at  the  Princess's,  to  play  in  the 
well-ordered  Lyceum.  Writing  on  the  day  after  the  closing 
of  his  season  at  the  Oxford  Street  house,  he  said:  "At  last 
my  great  London  engagement  is  ended.  Thank  God,  a 
thousand  times,  again  and  again  repeated !  I  never  had  such 
an  uphill  drag  of  it  in  all  my  professional  experience,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  many  annoyances  connected  with  the  mean 
and  tricky  management  of  -  — and-  -.  .  .  On  the  whole, 
the  critics  have  used  me  well.  So  Irving  and  I  are  at  last 
to  hitch  together,  but  only  for  a  short  pull  of  four  weeks  at 
'  Othello '.  Every  seat  worth  securing  is  booked  for  the 
greater  part  of  the  brief  term  of  our  combination,  and  London 
is  very  much  excited  over  it."  Again,  on  8th  May,  he  wrote  : 
"All  went  well.  .  .  .  Irving,  his  company,  and  the  audiences 
treat  me  splendidly.  .  .  .  The  houses  are  jammed,  the  play 
well  set  and  very  well  acted."  In  a  letter  written  at  the  time 


334    THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING      [CHAP.  xix. 

of  the  engagement,  to  William  Winter,  he  said  :  "Its  success 
is  very  great,  in  all  respects,  and  only  my  domestic  misery  "• 
the  serious  illness  of  his  wife — "  prevents  it  from  being  the 
happiest  theatrical  experience  I  have  ever  had.  I  wish  I 
could  do  as  much  for  Henry  Irving,  in  America,  as  he  has 
done  for  me  here."  In  a  subsequent  conversation  with  his 
biographer,  he  spoke  of  his  season  with  Irving  at  the  Lyceum 
as  one  of  much  happiness.  Such  testimony  should  silence 
cavil  in  regard  to  this  engagement,  once  and  for  all.  The 
two  actors  remained  friends  to  the  end.  In  July,  1882,  Booth 
was  in  London  again  :  "  Irving  was  with  me  last  night  till 
two  this  A.M.  Winter,  Aldrich,  and  Barrett  came  a  few  days 
ago,  and  we  all  dined  together  last  night.  Saturday,  after 
the  play,  we  'chop'  with  Irving.  Headache  Sunday."  The 
last  two  words  indicate  that  Booth  and  Irving  enjoyed  more 
than  one  pleasant  evening  together!  Five  months  later, 
Booth  saw  "Much  Ado  About  Nothing"  at  the  Lyceum, 
and  pronounced  it  "the  finest  production,  in  every  respect,  I 
ever  saw.  Terry  is  Beatrice  herself:  Irving's  conception  and 
treatment  of  the  part  are  excellent." 

A  week  after  the  beginning  of  the  engagement  at  the 
Lyceum — that  is  to  say,  on  Qth  May — Booth  played  lago  and 
Irving  Othello.  In  the  latter  character,  Irving  obtained  his 
chief  success  in  the  earlier  scenes,  where  he  was  impressive, 
self-contained,  and  stately.  He  declaimed  well,  and  he  de- 
livered Othello's  address  to  the  Senate  with  excellent  art.  In 
appearance,  he  resorted  to  magnificence  of  a  barbaric  sort : 
"  Jewels  sparkle  in  his  turban  and  depend  from  his  ears, 
strings  of  pearls  circle  from  his  dusky  throat,  he  is  abundantly 
possessed  of  gold  and  silver  ornaments,  and  his  richly-brocaded 
robes  fall  about  him  in  the  most  lustrous  and  ample  folds. 
He  is  blacker  of  face  than  the  Othello  of  the  stage  has  ventured 
to  be  since  the  times  of  Macready,  and  altogether  he  presents 
as  superb  an  appearance  as  an  Eastern  king  pictured  by  Paolo 
Veronese."1  As  for  lago,  "the  spirit  and  originality  of  the 

button  Cook. 


i88i]        BOOTH'S  FAREWELL  SPEECH  335 

embodiment"  according  to  the  late  L.  F.  Austin,  "fairly  won 
most  of  his  unfriendly  critics.  They  were  carried  away  by 
the  brilliant  devilry  of  the  whole  performance.  There  was 
the  soldierly  frankness  which  made  the  appelation  'honest 
I  ago,'  so  natural.  Never  did  a  fiend  wear  so  engaging  a 
mask,  and  the  careless  freedom  with  which  this  I  ago  ate  grapes 
was  even  made  a  source  of  complaint  by  some  writers,  who 
persuaded  themselves  that  for  lago  to  eat  grapes  when  he 
was  meditating  murder  was  too  horrible  a  mockery."  It 
should  be  stated  that  "  Othello  "  was  in  no  sense  an  elaborate 
"production,"  as  some  people  would  have  us  believe.  The 
play  was  artistically  and  beautifully  put  on  the  stage,  but 
there  could  not  be  much  of  a  "production"  for  ^643 — still, 
that  was  a  large  sum  to  expend  on  a  play  which  the  manager 
of  the  Lyceum  had  no  intention  of  using  again. 

"  Othello"  was  only  acted  on  three  nights  a  week — Mon- 
days, Wednesdays,  and  Fridays — "The  Cup  "and  "The  Belle's 
Stratagem  "  being  played  on  the  other  evenings.  The  charge 
for  seats  in  the  higher-priced  parts  of  the  house  were  raised 
for  the  Booth  engagement — stalls  to  £i  is.,  dress-circle  to 
i os.  ;  and  private  boxes  from  £i  2s.  to  £$  55.  Irving  kept 
to  the  ordinary  prices  for  the  rest  of  the  house — upper-circle, 
45.  ;  amphitheatre,  2s.  6d. ;  pit,  2s.  ;  and  gallery,  is.  The 
financial  result  of  the  twenty-two  performances  of  "Othello" 
was  enormous.  The  engagement  came  to  an  end  on  Saturday, 
nth  June — Othello  being  acted  by  Irving,  lago  by  Booth. 
On  that  night,  Booth  addressed  the  audience  as  follows  :  "It 
is,  for  me,  a  strange  sensation  to  speak  any  other  words  than 
those  set  down  for  me.  Yet  I  feel  that  I  cannot  let  an 
occasion  like  the  present  pass  without  breaking  the  silence. 
It  is  a  pleasant  duty  to  acknowledge  to  you  the  gratification 
it  has  been  to  me  to  see  nightly  such  splendid  audiences  as 
have  here  assembled.  I  feel  that  I  owe  you  a  debt  of  gratitude 
for  your  appreciation  of  my  efforts  to  please  you.  My  visit 
to  the  Lyceum  has  been  an  uninterrupted  pleasure.  I  have 
to  thank  my  friend,  Mr.  Irving,  for  his  generous  hospitality, 
and  the  talented  lady  with  whom  I  have  had  the  honour  of 


336    THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING      [CHAP.  xix. 

playing,  for  her  pleasant  companionship  and  kind  assistance. 
Indeed,  to  all  on  the  stage,  and  all  associated  with  the  Lyceum 
Theatre,  my  best  thanks,  for  the  courtesy  and  consideration 
which  I  have  received,  are  due,  and  are  most  heartily 
tendered.  Believe  me,  the  kind  and  generous  treatment  I 
have  received  from  the  gentlemen  of  the  press,  and  from  all 
with  whom  I  have  been  associated  during  this  engagement, 
and  the  generous  reception  I  have  met  with  at  your  hands, 
must  ever  be  among  the  pleasantest  recollections  of  my  long 
professional  career.  I  hope  to  have  the  pleasure  of  appearing 
before  you  again,  at  no  distant  day.  In  the  meantime,  I 
thank  you  most  heartily,  and  bid  you,  for  the  present, 
adieu." 

Thus  terminated  a  memorable  and  happy  interlude  in  the 
lives  of  the  two  actors.  With  Booth,  the  impression  of  Irving's 
chivalry  was  ever  present.  On  I4th  April,  1884,  when  Irving 
was  on  the  eve  of  completing  the  first  of  his  many  triumphal 
tours  in  America,  Booth  gave  him  a  breakfast  in  New  York— 
at  Delmonico's,  then  the  chief  restaurant  of  that  city.  There 
were  no  set  speeches,  but  Booth  took  the  opportunity  of  ex- 
pressing his  old  indebtedness  to  his  brother  player  :  "  You 
all  know  that  I  went  to  another  theatre  in  London,  and  that 
I  was  a  big  failure,  though  some  newspapers  on  my  side  of 
the  water  had  said  that  I  would  make  Henry  Irving  and  the 
other  English  actors  sit  up.  Well,  I  didn't  make  them  sit  up. 
Yes,  I  was  a  big  failure.  But  what  happened  then?  Henry 
Irving  invites  me  to  act  at  his  theatre  and  makes  me  share 
the  success  that  he  has  well  earned.  He  changes  my  big 
failure  into  a  success.  What  can  I  say  about  such  generosity  ? 
Was  the  like  of  it  ever  seen  before  ?  I  am  left  without  words. 
Friend  Irving,  I  have  no  words  to  thank  you."  Such  a  simple 
and  beautiful  tribute  from  one  great  actor  to  another  does  not 
call  for  any  comment.  It  silences,  at  once  and  for  ever,  the 
malicious  charge  of  interested  motive.  When  Booth  died,  one 
of  the  very  first  messages  of  sympathy  received  in  New  York 
—certainly  the  first  from  England — was  the  following  cable 
dispatch  :— 


i88i]  A  HAPPY  SPEECH  337 

"LONDON,  Zthjune,  1893. 

"  MY  DEAR  WINTER, — I  am  grieved  beyond  measure  at  the 
sad  news  of  poor  dear  Booth's  death.  The  world  is  poorer 
to-day  by  a  great  and  true  man.  All  love. 

"  HENRY  IRVING." 

The  remaining  six  weeks  of  the  summer  season  of  1 880 
were  devoted  to  revivals  of  various  Lyceum  successes. 
"Hamlet"  took  pride  of  place  with  nineteen  performances, 
then  came  "  The  Merchant  of  Venice  "  with  seven  representa- 
tions. "The  Bells"  was  played  four  times,  "Charles  the 
First "  and  "  Eugene  Aram  "  twice.  The  evening  of  Wednes- 
day, 1 5th  June,  was  devoted  to  the  benefit  of  Miss  Ellen 
Terry.  On  this  occasion,  "Othello"  was  played  for  the  last 
time,  "  Mr.  Booth  having  most  kindly  offered  his  services  on 
this  his  last  appearance  at  the  Lyceum  "-  -  he  was  the  Othello 
to  Irving's  I  ago ;  and  ordinary  prices  were  charged.  The 
last  night  of  the  season,  Saturday,  23rd  July,  was  set  aside  for 
"Mr.  Irving's  benefit,"  "The  Bells"  being  the  chief  attrac- 
tion. Irving's  faithful  friend,  J.  L.  Toole,  assisted  by  ap- 
pearing in  "The  Birthplace  of  Podgers,"  a  farce  in  which  he 
had  first  acted,  on  the  same  stage,  on  6th  March,  1858.  The 
well-known  scene  in  which  Modus  abandons  Ovid's  "  Art  of 
Love"  for  the  more  efficacious  teaching  of  Helen,  put  a  new 
complexion  on  this  episode  from  "The  Hunchback".  For 
Miss  Ellen  Terry  was  a  Helen  "who  wooed  her  student 
cousin  with  enchanting  grace  and  coquetry,"  and  Henry 
Irving  was  a  Modus  who,  "  with  infinite  variety  and  humour, 
realised  that  happy  condition  when  with  *  a  touch,  a  kiss,  the 
charm  was  snapt ! ' '  The-actor  manager's  speech,  a  long 
one,  contained  some  happy  expressions  in  regard  to  the 
interest  and  success  of  the  season  which  had  been  so  fruitful 
in  good-will.  Having  reviewed  the  salient  features  of  the 
previous  nine  months,  he  paid  a  graceful  compliment  to 
Edwin  Booth,  "my  friend  and  fellow  artist.  Of  Mr.  Booth's 
great  qualities  as  an  actor  you  have  had  no  scanty  proof, 
for,  after  representing  at  the  Princess's  Theatre  with  singular 

VOL.  I.  22 


338    THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING      [CHAP.  xix. 

ability  many  of  the  leading  characters  in  the  Shakespearean 
drama,  Mr.  Booth  received  here  a  nightly  demonstration  of 
enthusiasm  which  more  than  confirmed  the  great  impression 
he  had  already  made  on  the  public,  and  which  was  as  gratify- 
ing to  myself  as  it  must  have  been  to  himself."  He  then 
refuted  some  idle  rumours  which  had  been  circulated  by 
mischievous  people  and  announced  certain  impending  struc- 
tural alterations  in  the  theatre.  "  I  have  now  a  painful 
announcement  to  make.  During  our  five  months'  absence 
the  theatre  will  be  closed.  This,  as  you  may  imagine,  will 
entail  a  very  heavy  expense,  I  regret  to  say,  and  I  am  sure 
I  shall  have  your  sincere  sympathy  in  my  affliction,  when  I 
state  that  I  am  going  to  make  that  expense  still  heavier  by 
improving  the  ventilation,  increasing  your  comfort  in  other 
ways,  and  by  enlarging  some  parts  of  the  house  especially 
the  pit  ('  Bravo! '  and  cheers) — I  knew  that  statement  would 
move  you  to  tears  (laughter.)  No  doubt  you  are  aware 
that  amongst  the  playful  little  fables  about  myself,  which 
some  worthy  people  with  a  good  deal  of  spare  time  are  con- 
stantly circulating,  was  the  story  that  I  had  lately  purchased 
the  freehold,  or  leasehold,  or  goodness  knows  what,  of  the 
Lyceum,  for  a  hundred  thousand  pounds,  fifty  thousand 
pounds,  anything  you  please  (laughter).  Some  persons  im- 
proved upon  this,  and  said  the  theatre  had  been  presented  to 
me.  I  have  had  no  such  good  or  evil  fortune  (a  laugh). 
I  have  not  given  a  hundred  thousand  pounds,  because  I 
don't  possess  it ;  and  I  have  not  paid  fifty  thousand  pounds,  for 
a  somewhat  similar  reason.  But  what  has  happened  is  this  : 
I  have  obtained  a  lengthened  lease  of  the  Lyceum  ;  and 
through  the  excellent  and  friendly  feeling  which  exists  be- 
tween the  owner  of  this  property,  Mr.  Arnold,  and  myself,  I 
have  the  lease  under  most  favourable  conditions,  which  will 
enable  me  in  a  very  short  time  to  make  some  important 
changes.  I  shall  shortly  have  the  lease  of  four  houses  adjoin- 
ing this  theatre,  and  the  long-desired  opportunity  of  greatly 
improving  the  entrance,  exits,  and  frontage  of  the  house,  not 
forgetting  that  region  which  is  my  own  immediate  realm— 


i88i]  A  POWERFUL  PLEA  339 

namely,  behind  the  scenes.  I  cannot  tell  you  how  delighted 
I  am  at  this  welcome  prospect  of  increasing  your  comfort  and 
making  the  Lyceum  in  every  way  worthy  of  your  patronage." 

He  then  announced  that  his  next  Shakespearean  venture 
would  be  "  Romeo  and  Juliet,"  to  be  followed  in  due  course  by 
"  Coriolanus  ".  "  But  now,  ladies  and  gentlemen,"  he  concluded, 
"  I  must  say  farewell.  In  all  places  and  on  all  occasions,  I 
shall  ever  be  sensible  of  my  lasting  debt  to  my  loyal  and 
good  friends,  whom  I  am  proud  to  think  I  have  grappled  to 
me  with  *  hoops  of  steel'."  During  the  season  thus  brought 
to  a  felicitous  end,  he  had  improved  the  exit  from  the  stalls 
by  making  a  door  communicating  with  the  pit  entrance,  by 
means  of  which  there  was  a  direct  exit,  on  the  stalls  level,  to 
the  Strand. 

His  labours  for  this  period,  arduous  as  they  had  been, 
were  not  yet  over.  He  had  to  pay  the  penalty  of  fame  by 
taking  the  chair  at  the  thirty-sixth  anniversary  festival  of  the 
Royal  General  Theatrical  Fund,  on  Friday  evening,  2Qth 
July,  at  the  Freemasons'  Tavern.  He  had  performed  a 
similar  office  some  six  years  previously.  He  was  in  sar- 
castic vein,  and  while  upholding  the  dignity  of  his  profes- 
sion, he  managed  to  make  more  than  one  "palpable  hit". 
Having  made  some  pointed  allusions  to  the  "flowers  of 
rhetoric"  of  his  predecessors  in  the  chair,  he  said  :  "We  do 
not  make  our  appeal  with  'bated  breath  and  whispering 
humbleness '.  The  actor  contributes  so  much  to  the  general 
gaiety,  gives  such  a  zest  to  true  and  honest  pleasure,  lightens 
so  many  hearts  often  when  his  own  is  heavy,  that  when  he  is 
old,  past  work,  infirm,  and  unfortunate,  he  has  an  undoubted 
title  to  the  brotherly  and  sisterly  kindness  of  all  whom  he  has 
again  and  again  sent  away  from  the  play  refreshed,  invigor- 
ated, instructed,  or  amused  (cheers).  But,  then,  it  is  said 
actors  would  not  want  if  they  were  not  so  improvident.  Im- 
providence, if  you  please,  is  *  the  badge  of  all  our  tribe ' :  we  are 
the  most  careless,  spendthrift,  happy-go-lucky  people  on  the 
face  of  the  earth.  Some  persons  are  kind  enough  to  say,  by 
way  of  extenuation,  that  we  are  not  responsible  beings — that 


340    THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING      [CHAP.  xix. 

we  live  in  a  sort  of  fairyland — that  we  get  so  demoralised  by 
pasteboard  goblets  and  property  jewellery,  that  we  cannot 
enter  into  the  realities  of  life.  Of  course,  no  actor  was  ever 
known  to  educate  his  children,  or  toil,  not  only  for  his  own, 
but  for  a  comrade's  daily  bread,  or  show  a  proud  reluctance 
to  appeal  for  help  when  overwhelmed  with  sickness  and  mis- 
fortune !  Ah !  ladies  and  gentlemen,  judge  us  by  the  stand- 
ard of  common  humanity,  and  if  one  of  us  ends  his  career 
after  providing  for  everybody  but  himself,  and  if  a  chorus 
of  charitable  people  who,  perhaps,  never  gave  a  sixpence  in 
their  lives  cry,  *  Oh,  the  improvidence  of  these  actors ! '  we 
simply  answer  that  there  is  as  much  integrity,  prudence, 
steady  endeavour,  and  self-respect  in  our  profession  as  the 
world  ever  heard  of — as  there  is  in  any  other  section  of  the 
community.  Now,  the  General  Theatrical  Fund  holds  out 
to  all  who  put  by  but  a  small  amount  each  year  a  provision 
against  poverty,  and,  more  than  that,  ensures  them  against 
vicissitudes  arising  from  ill-health  or  accident,  and  I  think 
few  funds  are  better  or  more  economically  managed.  There 
are  no  superfluous  expenses,  no  little  dinners  for  the  gentle- 
men of  the  committee — no  extravagant  outlay  on  reams  of 
paper  never  used,  and  stacks  of  quill  pens  supplying  the 
treasurer  with  toothpicks  ;  and,  above  all,  no  baronial  halls  for 
officials  to  kick  their  heels  in,  and  for  poor  recipients  of  the 
fund  to  spend  their  days  in  exchanging  reminiscences  of  the 
legitimate  drama  before  it  began  to  decline."  In  contrasting 
the  salaries  of  actors  with  those  paid  in  earlier  days,  he  brought 
in  a  little  reminiscence  of  his  engagement  at  the  St.  James's 
Theatre  in  1866.  "  Then  your  leading  man  might  be  receiv- 
ing the  modest  emolument  of  £2  2s.  per  week,  with  the 
necessity  of  providing  himself  with  hats,  shoes,  tights,  and 
Heaven  knows  what.  Many  of  us  present  know  all  about 
that ;  but  now,  forsooth,  many  a  dashing  young  spark,  aping 
a  society  drawl  and  possessing  a  few  well-cut  suits  of  clothes, 
may  obtain  his  ten  guineas  (they  always  ask  guineas)  or  more 
a  week,  as  a  representative  of  what  is  called  society  drama. 
Why,  not  fifteen  years  ago,  when  I  made  what  was  really 


i88i]  TRADITION  IN  ACTING  341 

my  first  appearance  in  London  at  a  well-known  theatre,  I 
was  engaged  as  a  leading  actor  and  stage  manager  at  a 
salary  of  £j  per  week.  I  tried  for  guineas,  and  they  would 
not  give  it.  Well,  I  was  content,  and  so  was  my  manager ; 
but  I  firmly  believe  now,  if  I  were  to  apply  to  any  London 
manager  for  a  similar  position,  that  he  would  give  me  double 
that  money.  Things  have  so  altered."  In  conclusion,  he 
reverted  to  the  influence  exercised  by  the  stage  :  "  But  before 
I  sit  down  I  would  draw  your  attention  to  the  extraordinary 
influence  which  the  stage  has  upon  society  at  large,  and 
remembering  this,  I  would,  upon  this  ground  alone,  seek 
your  support  for  such  a  society  as  this.  In  the  practice  of 
our  art  we  win  if  we  can — if  we  fail  we  have  '  only  our  shame 
and  the  odd  hits ' — and  whether  we  fail  or  not,  the  breath  of 
applause  or  the  murmurs  of  censure,  are  alike  shortlived,  and 
our  longest  triumphs  are  almost  as  brief  as  either.  Our  lives 
are  fraught  with  many  temptations,  and  should  be  solaced  by 
the  thoughtfulness,  brightened  by  the  encouragement,  and 
softened  by  the  liberal  estimation  of  the  public ;  for  we  actors 
have  in  charge  a  trust  and  a  deposit  of  enormous  value,  such 
as  no  dead  hand  can  treasure.  The  living  voice,  the  vivid 
action,  the  tremulous  passion,  the  animated  gesture,  the  subtle 
and  variously  placed  suggestion  of  character  and  meaning— 
these  alone  can  make  Shakespeare  to  your  children  what 
Shakespeare  is  to  you.  Such  is  our  birthright,  and  such  is 
yours." 

In  replying  to  the  toast  of  his  health — proposed  by  J.  L. 
Toole — he  defended  himself  from  the  charge  of  not  slavishly 
following  tradition  in  his  acting.  "  I  am  very  grateful,"  he 
said,  "for  the  cordiality  with  which  you  have  received  this 
toast,  and  for  the  earnest  words  of  my  old  friend  who  has 
proposed  it.  I  only  hope  that  one-half  of  the  pleasant  things 
he  has  said  about  me  may  be  true.  Ladies  and  gentlemen, 
I  make  no  claim  upon  your  consideration,  except  that  of 
one  who,  whatever  the  results,  has,  at  all  events,  laboured 
earnestly  for  his  art.  Mistakes  may  have  been  made — none 
of  us  can  hope  to  avoid  them  altogether — but  there  has,  I 


342    THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING      [CHAP.  xix. 

trust,  been  no  unworthy  aim — nothing  of  which  any  lover  of  the 
English  stage  need  be  ashamed.  There  is  a  charge,  to  which 
I  suppose  I  must  plead  guilty — and  that  is,  that  I  have  not 
in  everything  shown  an  absolute  deference  to  tradition.  I 
do  not  know  that  there  is  any  special  reason  that  a  man 
should  boast  that  he  has  done  his  work  in  what  he  honestly 
believes  to  be  the  right  way.  But  about  tradition  I  venture 
to  say  this — that  it  was  all  very  well  for  those  who  invented 
it,  but  is  simply  injurious  to  those  who  merely  imitate  it 
(cheers).  If  a  conception  is  not  part  of  a  man's  own  brain 
—if  it  is  not  the  impulse  of  his  own  creative  faculty — then  it 
cannot  bear  that  stamp  of  individuality  without  which  there 
can  be  no  true  art  (hear,  hear).  Michael  Angelo  and 
Raphael  may  vary  in  their  conception  of  the  character  they 
so  loved  to  paint,  as  a  Garrick  and  a  Kean  in  their  con- 
ception of  Hamlet  or  Macbeth.  It  is  difficult  at  all  times  to 
struggle  against  the  idea  some  people  have  of  the  way  in 
which  Shakespeare's  tragedy  ought  to  be  represented.  If 
you  do  not  assume  a  ponderous  manner,  and  let  even  your 
whispers  be  like  muttered  thunder,  you  are  said  to  be  reduc- 
ing poetry  to  the  level  of  commonplace  conversation.  I  think 
Shakespeare  has  himself  given  us  definite  instructions  on 
this  point ;  and  if  the  actor  only  learns  to  hold  the  mirror  up 
to  nature,  he  may  be  assured  that  the  great  purpose  of  play- 
ing is  accomplished.  I  do  not  lay  the  flattering  unction  to 
my  soul  that  I  have  done  this.  I  am  an  eccentric  creature, 
who  has  somehow  stumbled  into  the  dramatic  profession,  to 
which  I  have  clung  with  mistaken  tenacity  for  twenty-five 
years ;  but  I  do  my  best  to  afford  a  little  entertainment  to 
the  public,  and  I  shall  hold  on  as  long  as  the  great  English 
public  care  to  come  and  see  me." 

Henry  Irving  presided  over  the  anniversary  dinner  on 
behalf  of  the  Royal  General  Theatrical  Fund  on  four  oc- 
casions :  ist  July,  1875  >'  29tn  Juty*  J88i  ;  2Qth  May,  1884  ; 
and  3 ist  May,  1894.  On  the  second  occasion,  the  subscrip- 
tion list,  which  included  one  hundred  guineas  from  Queen 
Victoria  and  a  hundred  pounds  from  Mr.  George  Rignold, 
amounted  to 


CHAPTER  XX. 

5th  September,  1881 — June,  1882. 

A  triumphal  tour — Enormous  receipts — Manchester  extols  Irving's 
Shylock — An  address  in  Edinburgh — "  The  Stage  as  It  Is  " — Alterations  at 
the  Lyceum — "Mr.  Irving  is  above  advertising  himself" — Amusing  skit  in 
Punch — The  re-opening  of  the  Lyceum — Great  demand  for  seats — The 
revival  of  "Two  Roses" — Irving's  Digby  Grant  "had  improved  with 
keeping  " — "  Romeo  and  Juliet "  revived — Irving's  Preface  and  restorations — 
The  Prince  and  Princess  of  Wales  present  on  the  first  night — Irving  acts 
Shylock  at  the  Savoy  Theatre — The  looth  night  of  "  Romeo  and  Juliet " 
— Lord  Lytton's  tribute. 

THERE  was  but  little  time  for  rest  between  the  closing  of  the 
London  season  and  the  opening  of  a  provincial  campaign  of 
the  most  elaborate  nature  that  was  ever  carried  out.  But 
Irving  spent  a  few  days  in  Edinburgh  and  at  Oban  in  the 
early  part  of  August.  The  tour  of  the  country  began,  at  the 
Grand  Theatre,  Leeds,  on  5th  September  ;  Miss  Ellen  Terry, 
Mr.  Terriss,  Mr.  Howe,  Mr.  Mead,  and  all  the  other  members 
of  the  company  appeared,  and  the  various  plays  were  mounted 
in  exactly  the  same  style  as  at  the  Lyceum.  From  Leeds, 
Irving  went  in  turn  to  Liverpool — where  he  played  for  three 
weeks — Dublin,  Belfast,  Glasgow,  Edinburgh,  Manchester, 
Birmingham,  and  Bristol.  "Hamlet"  and  "The  Merchant 
of  Venice "  proved  extremely  popular.  The  tour  ended  on 
1 7th  December,  with  the  ninety -second  performance.  Irving's 
share  of  the  receipts — two-thirds  of  the  takings — amounted  to 
the  sum  of  ,£23,666  53.  6d. 

But  he  had  other  successes  than  monetary  ones.  There 
was  not  a  single  jarring  note  in  the  enthusiasm  with  which  he 
was  greeted,  and  the  press  was  lavish  and  voluminous  in  his 
praise.  One  brief  quotation  from  the  many  columns  of 
criticism  must  suffice  as  an  example  of  the  most  discriminating 

343 


344       THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xx. 

of  the  great  number  of  articles  which  greeted  him  in  the  vari- 
ous towns.  He  may  well  have  been  gratified  by  the  attitude 
of  the  Manchester  Guardian  in  reference  to  the  opening  of  his 
twelve  nights'  engagement  at  the  Prince's  Theatre  on  2ist 
November,  for  that  paper  has  always  prided  itself  on  upholding 
the  right  of  Manchester  to  the  same  artistic  standard  as  that 
of  London  or  Paris.  It  began  its  criticism  by  a  just  recogni- 
tion of  the  general  completeness  of  Irving's  productions,  and 
concluded  its  observations  on  this  head  by  observing  that 
"  Mr.  Irving's  present  visit  will  set  an  admirable  precedent. 
The  city  in  which  he  first  showed  what  was  in  him  will  thus 
have  reason  to  be  grateful  to  him,  and  we  hope  and  think 
that  the  results  of  his  present  visit  will  show  that,  in  its  ap- 
preciation of  good  and  honest  art,  Manchester  is  in  no  way 
behind  Glasgow  and  Edinburgh  "  —where  his  performances  in 
the  previous  four  weeks  had  elicited  unbounded  applause  on 
all  sides.  In  a  clever  analysis  of  the  impersonation  of  Shy- 
lock,  it  rightly  denoted  one  of  the  great  merits  of  this  particular 
interpretation,  as  well  as  one  of  the  chief  points  in  all  Irving's 
work — his  intellectuality.  "  A  good  performance  of  Shylock," 
said  the  Guardian,  "must  be  subtle  and  must  be  intellectual 
whatever  else  it  is  or  is  not,  and  in  subtlety  and  intelligence 
Mr.  Irving's  severest  critics  have  never  pretended  that  he  was 
deficient.  Shylock's  immense  intellectual  superiority  is  one  of 
the  chief  notes  of  his  character,  and  nothing  could  have  been 
finer  than  the  way  in  which  Mr.  Irving  conveyed  this  in  such 
test  passages  as  those  in  which  Shylock  speaks  of  Antonio's 
'low  simplicity,'  of  'his  Christian  courtesy,' of  'the  fool  that 
lent  out  money  gratis/  or  than  the  supreme  contempt  with 
which  he  treated  the  butterfly  Gratiano  in  the  trial  scene." 
It  gave  him  unqualified  praise  for  his  treatment  of  this  side  of 
the  character,  and  it  was  equally  in  his  favour  in  regard  to  the 
actor's  general  conception  of  the  motives  which  sway  Shy- 
lock  against  Antonio — the  main  one  being,  of  course,  hatred. 
Quoting  part  of  Shylock's  speech  in  reference  to  Antonio  :— 

So  I  can  give  no  reason,  nor  I  will  not, 
More  than  a  lodg'd  hate  and  a  certain  loathing 
I  bear  Antonio — 


i88i] 


SHYLOCK  IN  MANCHESTER 


345 


it  said  that  "  this  last  word  of  '  loathing,'  uttered  by  Mr.  Irving 
as  it  were  from  the  depths  of  his  soul,  is  the  right  word.  Shy- 
lock's  hatred  is  not  calculating  enmity  for  definite  losses  in- 
curred through  Antonio,  any  more  than  it  is  an  impersonal  and 
almost  magnanimous  desire  to  be  revenged  on  the  oppressor 
of  his  race.  Both  these  elements  enter  into  his  feeling,  but 
it  is  deeper  lodged  than  any  of  them.  The  fierce  passion 


From  a  Dublin  paper  in  1881. 

1.  THE  EFFECT  ON  A  DUBLIN  AUDIENCE  OF 

2.  THE  EFFECT  ON  THE  SAME  AUDIENCE  OF 


'  THE  BELLS  ". 
THE  BELLE'S  STRATAGEM". 


(Irving  played  in  both  pieces  on  the  same  evening.) 

which  shakes  Shylock  in  the  frenzied  scene  after  he  has  heard 
of  Jessica's  disappearance  and  his  utter  remorselessness  in  the 
trial  scene  are  consistent  only  with  a  personal  hatred  pushed 
almost  to  the  verge  of  monomania.  It  is  his  success  in 
rendering  these  which  makes  Mr.  Irving's  performance  one  of 
the  truest,  as  well  as  the  grimmest  things  he  has  ever  done." 


346      THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xx. 

The  same  critic — W.  T.  Arnold — gave  an  admirable  de- 
scription of  Irving 's  treatment  in  Manchester,  which  differed 
somewhat  from  his  original  playing  of  it,  of  the  great  scene  of 
the  denunciation  to  Tubal.  He  quoted  G.  H.  Lewes  in  re- 
ference to  Macready's  acting  :  "  Shylock  has  to  come  on  in  a 
state  of  intense  rage  and  grief  at  the  flight  of  his  daughter. 
Now  it  is  obviously  a  great  trial  for  the  actor  '  to  strike  twelve 
at  once'.  He  is  one  moment  calm  in  the  green-room,  and  the 
next  he  has  to  appear  on  the  stage  with  his  whole  nature  in 
an  uproar.  Unless  he  has  a  very  mobile  temperament,  quick 
as  flame,  he  cannot  begin  this  scene  at  the  proper  state  of 
white  heat.  Accordingly,  we  see  actors  come  bawling  and 
gesticulating,  but  leaving  us  unmoved  because  they  are  not 
moved  themselves.  Macready,  it  is  said,  used  to  spend  some 
minutes  behind  the  scenes,  lashing  himself  into  an  imaginative 
rage  by  cursing  sotto  voce,  and  shaking  violently  a  ladder 
fixed  against  a  wall.  To  bystanders  the  effect  must  have 
been  ludicrous.  But  to  the  audience  the  actor  presented 
himself  as  one  really  agitated."  Continuing  its  criticism,  the 
Guardian  remarked  :  "  We  do  not  know  whether  Mr.  Irving 
is  compelled  to  have  recourse  to  a  similar  preparation,  but  he 
certainly  kindles  very  rapidly  into  flame.  The  scene  is  almost 
painful — there  is,  indeed,  something  animal  in  the  Jew's  entire 
loss  of  self-control,  and  Mr.  Irving  spares  us  no  detail  of  the 
wild  eyes,  wolfish  teeth,  and  foaming  mouth — but  it  is  con- 
summately played,  and  its  repulsiveness  is  not  more  than  is 
necessary  to  express  Mr.  Irving's  conception  of  the  character. 
We  notice  with  some  satisfaction  that  in  this  scene  Mr.  Irving 
delivers  the  famous  words,  *  I  would  not  have  given  it  for  a 
wilderness  of  monkeys,'  differently  from  the  manner  in  which 
he  delivered  them  at  the  Lyceum  two  years  ago.  He  then 
made  them  grotesque,  but  they  are  said  in  all  seriousness  by 
Shylock,  and  should  be  so  said  by  the  actor."  The  critic  had 
only  the  highest  praise  for  Irving's  acting  in  the  trial  scene. 
Another  critic,  writing  in  the  same  paper  eighteen  years  later, 
began  his  article  with  the  words  :  "  Sir  Henry  Irving's  Shylock 
is  one  of  the  very  finest  of  his  accomplishments — a  performance 


i88i]  AN  ABLE  ADDRESS  347 

full  of  beauty,  wrought  with  perfect  discretion,  infinitely  stimu- 
lating and  impressive  ". 

This  triumphant  tour  was  also  the  means  of  enabling 
Irving  to  deliver  one  of  the  most  powerful  addresses  that  he 
gave  throughout  his  career  in  the  cause  that  he  had  so  deeply 
at  heart.  On  the  afternoon  of  8th  November  he  read  the 
opening  address  of  the  winter  session  of  the  Edinburgh 
Philosophical  Institution,  in  the  Music  Hall  of  the  Scottish 
capital,  the  meeting  being  presided  over  by  Sir  Alexander 
Grant.  He  chose  "  The  Stage  as  It  Is  "  for  his  subject.  The 
address  is  too  long  for  free  quotation  ;  moreover,  it  was  widely 
printed  in  the  papers  and  also  published  in  pamphlet  form. 
Again,  in  1893,  it  was  the  first  in  the  volume  of  four  addresses 
by  Henry  Irving  then  issued.  He  began  the  reading  of  his 
paper  by  noting  that  the  comparative  neglect  of  the  theatre 
— "  fortunately  there  is  less  of  this  than  there  used  to  be,"  he 
said — arose  partly  from  intellectual  superciliousness,  partly  from 
timidity  as  to  moral  contamination.  To  boast  of  being  able 
to  appreciate  Shakespeare  more  in  reading  him  than  in  seeing 
him  acted  used  to  be  a  common  method  of  affecting  special 
intellectuality.  But  the  pitiful  delusion  has  mostly  died  out. 
It  conferred  a  cheap  badge  of  superiority  on  those  who  enter- 
tained it.  It  seemed  to  each  of  them  an  inexpensive  oppor- 
tunity of  worshipping  himself  on  a  pedestal.  But  what  did  it 
amount  to?  It  was  little  more  than  a  conceited  and  feather- 
headed  assumption  that  an  unprepared  reader,  whose  mind  is 
usually  full  of  far  other  things,  will  see  on  the  instant  all  that 
has  been  developed  in  hundreds  of  years  by  the  members  of 
a  studious  and  enthusiastic  profession.  Irving's  own  convic- 
tion was  that  there  are  few  characters  or  passages  of  our  great 
dramatists  which  will  not  repay  original  study.  But  at  least, 
he  continued,  "we  must  recognise  the  vast  advantages  with 
which  a  practised  actor,  impregnated  by  the  associations  of 
his  life  and  by  study — with  all  the  practical  and  critical  skill 
of  his  profession  up  to  the  date  at  which  he  appears — whether 
he  adopts  or  rejects  tradition,  addresses  himself  to  the  inter- 
pretation of  any  great  character,  even  if  he  have  no  originality 


348       THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xx. 

whatever.  There  is  something  still  more  than  this,  however, 
in  acting.  Everyone  who  has  the  smallest  histrionic  gift  has 
a  natural  dramatic  fertility  ;  so  that  as  soon  as  he  knows  the 
author's  text  and  obtains  self-possession,  and  feels  at  home  in 
a  part  without  being  too  familiar  with  it,  the  mere  automatic 
action  of  rehearsing  and  playing  it  at  once  begins  to  place  the 
author  in  new  lights  and  to  give  the  personage  being  played 
an  individuality  partly  independent  of,  and  yet  consistent  with, 
and  rendering  more  powerfully  visible,  the  dramatist's  concep- 
tion. It  is  the  vast  power  a  good  actor  has  in  this  way  which 
has  led  the  French  to  speak  of  creating  a  part  when  they 
mean  its  being  first  played ;  and  French  authors  are  so  con- 
scious of  the  extent  and  value  of  this  co-operation  of  actors 
with  them  that  they  have  never  objected  to  the  phrase,  but, 
on  the  contrary,  are  uniformly  lavish  in  their  homage  to  the 
artists  who  have  created  on  the  boards  the  parts  which  they 
themselves  had  created  on  paper."  He  went  on  to  observe 
that  while  there  is  but  one  Shakespeare,  and  there  are  but 
comparatively  few  dramatists  sufficiently  classic  to  be  read 
with  close  attention,  there  is  a  great  deal  of  average  dramatic 
work  excellently  suited  for  representation.  From  this  the 
public  derive  pleasure  as  well  as  instruction  and  mental 
stimulus.  So  it  is  plain  that  if,  because  Shakespeare  is  good 
reading,  people  were  to  give  the  cold  shoulder  to  the  theatre, 
the  world  would  lose  all  the  vast  advantage  which  comes  to  it 
through  the  dramatic  faculty  in  forms  not  rising  to  essentially 
literary  excellence.  As  to  the  fear  of  moral  contamination, 
the  theatre  of  fifty  years  before  did  sometimes  need  reforming 
in  the  audience  part  of  the  house.  "  But  it  has  been  re- 
formed ;  and  if  there  is  moral  contamination  from  what  is  per- 
formed on  the  stage,  so  there  is  from  books,  so  there  may  be 
at  lawn  tennis,  clubs,  and  dances.  But  do  we,  therefore,  bury 
ourselves?  The  theatre,  as  a  whole,  is  never  below  the 
average  moral  sense  of  the  time ;  and  this  is  truer  now  than 
ever  it  was  before.  The  stage  is  no  longer  a  mere  appendage 
of  Court-life,  but  the  property  of  the  educated  people.  It 
must  satisfy  them  or  pine  in  neglect.  This  being  so,  the 


i88i]     ALTERATIONS  AT  THE  LYCEUM        349 

stage  is  no  longer  proscribed.  Its  members  are  no  longer 
pariahs  in  society."  Was  his  own  appearance  there  not  a 
sign  of  that?  He  felt  his  position  as  a  representative  one, 
and  it  marked  an  epoch  in  the  estimation  in  which  the  art 
he  loved  was  held  by  the  British  world.  Referring  to  the 
lament  that  there  were  no  schools  for  actors,  he  said  the  com- 
plaint was  idle.  Practice  was  their  school.  They  should 
have  a  sincere  and  absorbing  sympathy  with  all  that  is  good, 
and  great,  and  inspiring.  He  went  on  to  dwell  on  the  adapt- 
ability of  the  theatre  to  the  prevailing  wants  and  taste  of 
the  time,  and  concluded  with  a  fine  peroration  picturing 
the  actor's  pleasure  in  abandoning  himself  to  his  author's 
"  grandest  flights  of  thought  and  noblest  bursts  of  emotional 
enthusiasm  ". 

During  the  absence  from  London  of  the  actor-manager, 
the  theatre  had  been  in  the  hands  of  an  army  of  workpeople, 
and  extensive  alterations  had  been  made  for  the  benefit  of  the 
public,  and,  incidentally,  the  holding  capacity  of  the  house  had 
been  increased  very  considerably.  By  taking  in  a  corridor  at 
the  back  of  the  dress-circle,  sixty  or  seventy  new  seats  were 
added  to  that  part  of  the  house,  while,  by  bringing  a  saloon 
within  the  area  of  the  pit,  room — with  a  direct  view  of  the  stage 
—was  obtained  for  about  two  hundred  more  persons.  Nor 
was  he  unmindful  of  his  friends  up  aloft.  An  objectionable 
arch  was  removed  from  the  gallery  so  that  the  stage  could  be 
seen  clearly  from  the  highest  line  of  seats.  The  ventilation  of 
this  part  of  the  theatre  was  improved  greatly,  and  the  gallery 
seats  were  cushioned.  Striking  alterations  were  made  in  re- 
gard to  entrances  and  means  of  egress.  The  main  staircase, 
which  had  previously  sufficed  for  the  entire  audience,  except 
the  pit  and  gallery,  was  increased  in  width  from  eight  to  eigh- 
teen feet.  The  pit  entrance  was  widened,  and,  instead  of  tak- 
ing an  awkward  turn,  looked  directly  towards  the  Strand  on 
the  level  of  the  street.  From  the  proscenium  arch  up  to  the 
entire  height  of  the  roof  above  the  stage,  concrete  took  the 
place  of  timber.  The  pit  was  entirely  re -seated,  and  various 
other  minor  alterations  tended  to  the  comfort  of  the  audience. 


350      THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xx. 

He  had  received  tremendous  advertisement  in  London 
from  the  unprecedented  success  of  his  provincial  tour,  and  by 
reason  of  the  structural  alterations  at  the  Lyceum.  During 
his  absence,  he  also  obtained  an  indirect  advertisement 
through  an  action  for  libel  brought  by  Clement  Scott. 
During  the  hearing  of  the  case,  the  Lord  Chief  Justice,  Lord 
Coleridge  of  the  silvery  voice,  made  a  statement  which  gave 
rise  to  much  amusing  comment.  "  Mr.  Irving  is  above  ad- 
vertising himself,"  he  said.  This  suggested  to  Punch  a  brief 
but  entertaining  article  headed  "  Mr.  Irving  on  Himself". 
Taking  as  its  text  the  dictum  of  Lord  Coleridge,  it  remarked  :— 

"  Isn't  he  ?  Haven't  we  seen  two  or  three  advertisements 
per  diem  lately  about  the  re-opening  of  the  Lyceum  ?  And 
if  the  following  manifesto  has  not  already  appeared  in  a  morn- 
ing paper,  that's  not  his  fault  :— 

"  To  THE  NATION. — On  the  return  of  Mr.  IRVING  to  the 
Lyceum  Theatre,  it  is  felt  to  be  a  public  duty  to  briefly 
chronicle  the  brilliant  and  unprecedented  result  of  his  triumphal 
march  through  the  provinces.  An  illuminated  balance-sheet, 
with  gilt  edges,  will  be  handed,  free  of  charge,  to  every  visitor 
at  the  Lyceum  Theatre  ;  the  no-fee  system  being,  it  is  hoped, 
strictly  adhered  to  on  the  part  of  the  public." 

"  A  leading  Belfast  newspaper  says  :— 

"  *  Mr.  IRVING  is  the  greatest  Actor  that  has  ever  trod  the 
boards,  judged  by  the  standpoint  of  his  profits,  by  the  side  of 
which  the  most  sublime  efforts  of  GARRICK,  KEAN,  KEMBLE, 
and  RACHEL  sink  into  insignificance.  The  three  kingdoms  have 
vied  with  each  other  in  noble  rivalry  to  do  substantial  homage 
to  him  who  has  undoubtedly  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  that 
trade  which  he  is  never  tired  of  upholding,  and  which — if  per- 
severing in  the  course  he  has  recently  taken — he  will  un- 
doubtedly succeed  in  placing  on  a  level  with  that  of  the  enter- 
prising Grocer  and  advertising  Tea-dealer. 

"  '  To  illustrate  the  lavish  nature  of  Mr.  IRVING'S  genius  we 
may  mention  the  fact  that  two  special  trains  are  necessary  in 
order  to  meet  the  requirements  of  travel — one  train  being  set 
apart  for  the  distinguished  Tragedian  himself,  the  other  con- 


i88i]  "TWO  ROSES"  REVIVED  351 

veying  the  costumes,  which  are  the  most  expensive  that  can 
be  procured  for  the  money,  the  scenery  being  designed  by 
Royal  Academicians  at  immense  outlay,  the  company  engaged 
to  support  their  chief,  the  properties,  and  the  Acting-manager, 
who  may  be  described  as  the  most  courteous  on  the  road. 

"  *  Mr.  IRVING  will  shortly  return  to  the  scene  of  his  former 
triumphs — newly  decorated  and  calculated  to  hold  considerably 
more  money.  Bearing  ever  in  mind  that  his  motto  that  'Art 
is  to  conceal  artfulness,'  Mr.  IRVING  hopes,  by  constant  atten- 
tion to  business,  to  merit  that  support  to  which  he  is  undoubtedly 
entitled.  .  .  .  We  may  add  that  for  the  above  particulars  we 
are  indebted  to  the  courtesy  of  the  great  Tragedian's  Acting- 
manager  himself.' 

"  NOTICE. — A  special  staff  has  been  told  off  to  allot  the 
seats  for  the  opening  night.  Many  thousands  must  necessarily 
be  disappointed  ;  but  Mr.  IRVING  sincerely  hopes  that  no  block 
will  cause  any  interruption  of  the  coronetted  carriage-traffic  in 
the  Strand. 

"  Mr.  IRVING  will  do  his  very  best  to  provide  seats  for 
everybody  in  the  course  of  time,  only  they  really  must 
wait  their  turn.  The  Lyceum  has  been  re-decorated  and 
re-ceipted — no,  re-seated, — only  Mr.  IRVING  couldn't  resist 
the  allusion." 

There  was,  of  course,  a  huge  demand  for  seats  for  "Two 
Roses,"  with  which  the  Lyceum  re-opened  on  Monday, 
26th  December.  It  was  announced  that  tickets  would  be 
allotted  according  to  priority  of  date  of  application ;  further- 
more, "Mr.  Irving  regrets" — so  ran  the  advertisement — 
"  that  it  is  not  possible  to  place  seats  for  such  special  occasions 
at  the  disposal  of  the  various  libraries  ".  The  latter  statement 
was  rendered  necessary  through  the  enormous  prices  which 
had  been  obtained  by  the  "libraries"  when  the  famous 
"society"  beauty,  Mrs.  Langtry,  made  her  first  appearance 
on  the  stage  at  the  Hay  market  Theatre.  This  was  just 
before  the  re-opening  of  the  Lyceum,  when  three,  four,  and, 
so  it  was  said,  as  much  as  ten  guineas  had  been  paid  for  a 
stall,  in  consequence  of  the  majority  of  the  seats  having  been 


352       THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xx. 

bought  in  advance  by  the  libraries.  Irving  did  not  play 
Digby  Grant  after  this  season,  as  the  part  was  too  small  for 
him,  and  the  play  had  lost  its  savour.  Moreover,  the  compari- 
sons between  the  members  of  the  new  cast  and  those  of  the 
original  were  not  altogether  in  favour  of  the  more  modern 
players.  A  special  engagement  was  made  for  this  occasion 
in  the  person  of  David  James  who,  after  the  first  production, 
had  acted  "  Our  Mr.  Jenkins"  in  succession  to  George  Honey. 


TWO  ROSES. 

Revived  at  the  Lyceum,  26th  December,  1881. 


MR.  DIGBY  GRANT    - 

MR.  FURNIVAL 

JACK  WYATT     - 

CALEB  DEECIE- 

FOOTMAN - 

OUR  MR.  JENKINS 

IDA   - 

MRS.  CUPPS 

OUR  MRS.  JENKINS    - 

LOTTIE     - 


Mr.  HENRY  IRVING. 

Mr.  H.  HOWE. 

Mr.  W.  TERRISS. 

Mr.  G.  ALEXANDER. 

Mr.  HARBURY. 

Mr.  DAVID  JAMES. 

Miss  HELEN  MATTHEWS. 

Miss  C.  EWELL. 

Miss  PAUNCEFORT. 

Miss  WINIFRED  EMERY. 


ACT  I.,  SCENE.  Mr.  Digby  Grant's  Cottage.  ACT  II., 
SCENE.  Jack  Wyatt's  Lodgings.  ACT  III.,  SCENE.  Vassal- 
wick  Grange. 

CAST   OF  THE   FIRST   PRODUCTION,  AT   THE 
VAUDEVILLE,  4TH  JUNE,  1870. 


MR.  DIGBY  GRANT 
JACK  WYATT     - 
CALEB  DEECIE 
MR.  JENKINS    - 
MR.  FURNIVAL 
LOTTIE 
IDA  - 

MRS.  CUPPS 
MRS.  JENKINS   - 


Mr.  HENRY  IRVING. 
Mr.  H.  J.  MONTAGUE. 
Mr.  THOMAS  THORNE. 
Mr.  GEORGE  HONEY. 
Mr.  W.  H.  STEPHENS. 
Miss  AMY  FAWSITT. 
Miss  A.  NEWTON. 
Miss  PHILLIPS. 
Miss  T.  LAVIS. 


Mr.  George  Alexander  made  his  first  appearance  on  the 
London  stage  as  the  blind  Caleb  Deecie,  and  William 
Terriss  was  the  Jack  Wyatt.  The  "  roses,"  Lottie  and  Ida, 
were  Miss  Winifred  Emery  and  Miss  Helen  Mathews,  and 
Mr.  Howe,  Miss  Pauncefort,  and  Miss  C.  Ewell  completed 
the  cast.  The  Times  said  that  the  impersonation  of  Digby 
Grant  "had  improved  with  keeping.  The  mannerisms  of 
which  we  have  heard  so  much  in  Mr,  Irving's  acting  obtruded 


i88i]  DIGBY  GRANT  AGAIN  353 

themselves  certainly  in  the  opening  scene,  but  under  the 
strong,  commanding  individuality  of  the  actor  they  seemed  to 
become  merged  in  the  idiosyncrasies  of  the  'broken  gentle- 
man' who  affects  theatrical  airs  with  his  washerwoman,  and 
who  sponges  shamelessly  on  his  daughter's  suitor.  In  the 
subsequent  acts  they  were  not  seen  at  all,  or  seen  only  as  a 
part  and  parcel  of  the  character  itself.  The  transitions  from 
poverty  to  affluence  and  again  from  affluence  to  poverty  in 
Digby  Grant's  circumstances  were  managed  by  the  actor  with 
rare  skill :  in  the  offensively  purse-proud  soi-disant  '  gentle- 
man' who  has  paid  off  all  his  old  friends  with  a  'little  cheque,' 
and  who  preaches  down  his  daughter's  heart  with  his  selfish 
and  worldly  ideas,  there  was  the  same  innate  baseness  as 
before,  but  baseness  gilded  and  subdued  by  wealthy  sur- 
roundings. The  character  was  consistent  throughout '.  it  had, 
too,  all  the  indefinable  touches  of  tone,  gesture,  look  which 
only  genius  supplies ;  and,  to  descend  to  a  detail  which  is 
perhaps  more  important  than  it  seems,  Mr.  Irving's  make-up, 
not  so  much  in  the  character  of  the  broken  gentleman,  as  in 
that  of  the  pretentious  '  swell,'  was  singularly  true  and  perfect." 
Albery's  comedy  was  preceded  by  Planche's  comedietta, 
"The  Captain  of  the  Watch,"  acted  by  Terriss,  Miss  Louisa 
Payne,  Miss  Helen  Mathews,  and  others.  This  was  the  last 
time  that  the  old-fashioned  farce  was  seen  at  the  Lyceum  as 
part  of  the  ordinary  bill.  "Two  Roses"  was  played  until 
3rd  March,  sixty  performances  being  given.  The  theatre 
was  then  closed  for  the  final  rehearsals  of  "  Romeo  and 
Juliet." 

In  his  speech  to  the  audience  on  the  first  night  of  the 
revival  of  "Two  Roses,"  Irving  declared  that  "Romeo  and 
Juliet"  was  ready  for  production  whenever  it  was  required. 
And  the  revival  was  well  in  hand  at  that  time.  But  the  in- 
tervening weeks  were  put  to  good  use,  and  when,  on  Wednes- 
day, 8th  March,  1882,  the  revival  of  Shakespeare's  immortal 
love  tragedy  took  place,  the  Lyceum  presented  a  series  of 
poetical  and  beautiful  pictures  such  as  the  stage  had  not 
previously  seen.  Irving  felt  his  own  limitations  and  he  knew 

VOL.  i.  23 


354      THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xx. 

quite  well  that  he  could  not  be  the  love-sick,  ardent  Romeo 
any  more  than  Miss  Ellen  Terry  could  be  the  passionate 
Italian  girl.  The  history  of  the  stage  teems  with  the  attempts 
of  ladies  of  uncertain  age — most  of  whom  were  old  enough  to 
be  mothers,  while  some  might  have  been  grandmothers,  had 
they  been  ordinary  domestic  persons ! — to  play  Juliet,  and 
there  was  no  reason  why  a  man  of  forty-four  should  not  have 
been  a  fairly  successful  lover.  The  "too  old  at  forty"  fetish 
was  unknown  to  the  philosophy  of  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago. 
Irving  could  not  be  a  boy-Romeo,  but  he  meant  to  capture 
the  public.  And  he  did  so.  In  the  first  place,  he  devoted 
himself  to  the  text,  and  he  abolished  certain  excrescences 
which  had  grown  upon  the  play.  H  e  destroyed  these  barnacles 
unmercifully  and  presented  the  tragedy  in  its  pristine  purity. 
In  his  acting  edition,  which  was  published  simultaneously  with 
his  production,  he  announced  his  intention  :  "  I  have  availed 
myself  of  every  resource  at  my  command  to  illustrate  without 
intrusion" — mark  these  words,  "without  intrusion "-— " the 
Italian  warmth,  life,  and  romance  of  this  enthralling  love-story. 
Such  changes  as  have  been  made  from  the  ordinary  manner 
of  presentation  are,  I  think,  justified  by  the  fuller  develop- 
ment of  our  present  stage,  of  the  advantages  of  which  the 
Poet  would,  doubtless,  have  freely  availed  himself  had  his  own 
opportunities  been  brought  up  to  the  level  of  our  time."  In 
regard  to  the  arrangement  of  the  text,  he  stated  that  he  had 
"  endeavoured  to  retain  all  that  was  compatible  with  the 
presentation  of  the  play  within  a  reasonable  time,"  and  he 
acknowledged  his  indebtedness  to  the  Variorum  of  Furness 
and  the  editions  of  Dyce  and  Singer.  The  most  important 
of  his  restorations  was  "that  of  Romeo's  unrequited  love  for 
Rosaline,  omitted  amongst  other  things  in  Garrick's  Georgian 
version.  Its  value  can  hardly  be  over-appreciated,  since 
Shakespeare  has  carefully  worked  out  this  first  baseless  love 
of  *  Romeo'  as  a  palpable  evidence  of  the  subjective  nature  of 
the  man  and  his  passion."  The  conclusion  to  his  Preface 
was,  as  usual  when  he  spoke  of  his  own  efforts,  extremely 
modest :  "  In  securing  for  the  production  of  this  play  the  co- 


1882] 


-ROMEO  AND  JULIET' 


355 


operation  and  assistance  of  some  of  the  distinguished  repre- 
sentatives of  our  time  of  the  various  Arts  I  have  been  most 
fortunate ;  and  although  the  art  of  the  actor  must  ever  fail  to 
realize  the  ideal  of  the  Poet,  still  we  hope  that  suggestions  in 


ROMEO  AND  JULIET. 
Revived  at  the  Lyceum,  8th  March,  1882. 


ROMEO     - 
MERCUTIO 
TYBALT   - 
PARIS 
CAPULET  - 
MONTAGUE 
FRIAR  LAURENCE 
APOTHECARY     - 
PRINCE  ESCALUS 
BENVOLIO 
GREGORY 
SAMPSON  - 
ABRAHAM 
BALTHASAR 
PETER 
FRIAR  JOHN 
CITIZEN  - 
CHORUS   - 
PAGE 

NURSE     - 
LADY  MONTAGUE 
LADY  CAPULET 
JULIET     - 


Mr.  HENRY  IRVING. 

Mr.  WILLIAM  TERRISS. 

Mr.  CHARLES  GLENNEY. 

Mr.  GEORGE  ALEXANDER. 

Mr.  HOWE. 

Mr.  HARBURY. 

Mr.  FERNANDEZ. 

Mr.  MEAD. 

Mr.  TYARS. 

Mr.  CHILD. 

Mr.  CARTER. 

Mr.  ARCHER. 

Mr.  LOUTHER. 

Mr.  HUDSON. 

Mr.  ANDREWS. 

Mr.  BLACK. 

Mr.  HARWOOD. 

Mr.  HOWARD  RUSSELL. 

Miss  KATE  BROWN. 

Mrs.  STIRLING. 

Miss  H.  MATTHEWS. 

Miss  L.  PAYNE. 

Miss  ELLEN  TERRY. 


ACT  I.,  SCENE  i.  Verona — The  Market  Place ;  SCENE  2. 
Verona — Loggia  of  Capulet's  House ;  SCENE  3.  Verona — 
Before  Capulet's  House ;  SCENE  4.  A  Hall  in  Capulet's 
House.  ACT  II.,  SCENE  i.  Verona — Wall  of  Capulet's  Gar- 
den ;  SCENE  2.  Verona — The  Garden  ;  SCENE  3.  Verona— 
The  Monastery ;  SCENE  4.  Verona — Outside  the  City ; 
SCENE  5.  Verona — Terrace  of  Capulet's  Garden ;  SCENE  6. 
Verona — The  Cloisters.  ACT  III.,  SCENE  i.  Verona — A 
Public  Place;  SCENE  2.  Verona — The  Loggia;  SCENE  3. 
Verona — A  Secret  Place  in  the  Monastery ;  SCENE  4.  Verona 
— Capulet's  House;  SCENE  5.  Verona— Juliet's  Chamber. 
ACT  IV.,  SCENE  i.  Verona — The  Friar's  Cell ;  SCENE  2. 
Verona — Juliet's  Chamber  (Night);  SCENE  3.  Verona— The 
Same  (Morning).  ACT  V.,  SCENE  i.  Mantua — A  Street ; 
SCENE  2.  Verona — The  Friar's  Cell;  SCENE  3.  Verona — 
Churchyard  with  the  Tomb  of  the  Capulets;  SCENE  4. 
Verona — The  Tomb. 


the  interpretation  of  the  play  may  be  offered  on  which  the 
mind  may  dwell  with  pleasure  and  profit,  and  which  may 
justify  our  attempt." 

The  interest  taken  in  the  revival  was  intense.     All  ranks 

of  playgoers  were  eager  to  see  the  new  "  Romeo"  and  the 

23* 


356       THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xx. 

first  night  audience  was  headed  by  the  Prince  and  Princess 
of  Wales  (Edward  VII.  and  Queen  Alexandra),  and  the 
rest  of  the  distinguished  company  included  the  Earl  of  Lytton, 
the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Wellington,  the  Countess  of 
Breadalbane,  Lord  and  Lady  Londesborough,  the  Earl  of 
Fife,  the  Lord  and  Lady  Mayoress  of  London,  Sir  Frederick 
and  Lady  Pollock,  Sir  Dighton  Probyn,  Admiral  Sir  W. 
Hewitt,  Sir  Julius  and  Lady  Benedict,  Baron  Ferdinand 
Rothschild,  and  the  Baroness  Burdett-Coutts.  "  The  superb 
character  of  the  revival,"  said  the  Daily  Telegraph,  "cannot 
be  sufficiently  appreciated  at  a  single  inspection.  The  mind, 
anxious  to  take  in  so  much,  inevitably  passes  over  many 
instances  of  colour  and  arrangement.  Such  scenes  as  these 
— the  outside  of  Capulet's  house  lighted  for  the  ball,  the 
sunny  pictures  of  Verona  in  summer,  the  marriage  chant  to 
Juliet  changed  into  a  death  dirge,  the  old,  lonely  street  in 
Mantua,  where  the  Apothecary  dwells,  the  wondrous  solid 
tomb  of  the  Capulets — are  as  worthy  of  close  and  renewed 
study  as  are  the  pictures  in  a  gallery  of  paintings. "  These 
were,  in  a  pictorial  sense,  the  lesser  things  of  the  revival. 
The  ball-room  scene  of  the  first  act  was  one  of  the  most 
sumptuous  stage  pictures  ever  presented.  And  the  fight 
between  the  representatives  of  the  Montagues  and  the 
Capulets  in  the  Market  Place  of  Verona  proved  that  Henry 
Irving  had  nothing  to  learn  from  the  players  of  Saxe-Mein- 
engen,  whose  appearance  at  Drury  Lane  in  the  previous 
year  had  drawn  attention  to  their  dexterous  handling  of  stage- 
crowds.  In  the  last  act,  the  tomb  scene  was  most  impressive. 
The  Lyceum  Romeo  dragged  the  body  of  the  murdered 
Paris  down  the  steps  at  the  back  of  the  stage — the  dim  light 
and  the  general  effect  of  distance  were  most  weird  and  im- 
pressive. Irving's  best  scenes  were  Romeo's  fight  with 
Tybalt,  his  passionate  acting  when  Romeo  learns  of  his 
banishment,  and  the  scene  with  the  Apothecary.  The  last 
was  a  marvellous  bit  of  acting,  and  will  be  remembered  as  a 
fine,  artistic  touch.  In  the  ability  to  express  profound  melan- 
choly and  to  indicate  coming  doom,  Irving  has  had  no  rival 


Photo :  Lock  and  Whitfield,  London. 

Miss  ELLEN  TERRY  AS  PORTIA. 


1882]  SHYLOCK  AT  THE  SAVOY  357 

on  the  stage.  This  one  scene  in  Irving's  hands  was  worth 
any  number  of  vigorous,  " manly"  Romeos  prancing  about 
Juliet's  garden  and  offering  the  salutation  of  rhapsody  to  the 
love-lorn  lady  on  the  balcony.  By  the  same  rule,  Miss  Ellen 
Terry  was  not  an  " ideal"  Juliet — old  playgoers  could  not 
banish  memories  of  Adelaide  Neilson  and  Stella  Colas — but 
she  had  the  charm  of  youth  and  her  own  indefinable  grace 
and  beauty.  Her  best  scenes  were  those  with  the  Nurse. 
That  in  which  the  news  of  Romeo's  impending  visit  to  the 
Friar's  cell  is  delayed,  and,  finally,  conveyed  to  Juliet,  was 
exquisitely  acted.  Its  matchless  charm  is  an  abiding  memory. 
Miss  Terry  had  an  admirable  representative  of  the  Nurse  to 
assist  her  in  the  late  Mrs.  Stirling.  Other  able  players  who 
gave  invaluable  aid  to  the  production  were  the  late  Henry 
Howe,  Mr.  James  Fernandez,  William  Terriss  as  Mercutio, 
and  Thomas  Mead  as  the  Apothecary.  In  short,  generally 
speaking,  the  tragedy  has  never  had  so  superb  a  cast.  For 
the  chorus,  there  was  Mr.  Howard  Russell,  a  good  actor  of 
the  "old  school,"  who  is  still  before  the  public.  Special 
music  was  composed  by  Sir  Julius  Benedict,  the  costumes 
were  designed  by  an  artist  who  was  exceedingly  clever  in 
such  matters,  the  late  Alfred  Thompson,  while  Mr.  Hawes 
Craven,  Mr.  Walter  Hann,  and  the  late  William  Telbin 
were  chiefly  responsible  for  the  scenery. 

On  the  first  night  of  the  revival,  the  representative  of 
Romeo  announced  that  the  tragedy  would  be  played  at  the 
Lyceum  "until  further  notice".  Some  months  passed  ere 
that  notice  was  given.  In  the  meantime,  some  interesting 
events  came  to  pass.  First  of  all,  on  the  afternoon  of 
Wednesday,  2ist  June,  Miss  Florence  Terry  took  her  fare- 
well of  the  stage,  in  view  of  her  approaching  marriage  and 
retirement.  The  Savoy  Theatre  was  selected  for  this  leave- 
taking,  and  on  its  stage  Henry  Irving  appeared  as  Shy  lock 
in  the  Trial  scene.  Miss  Ellen  Terry  was  Portia,  Miss 
Florence  Terry  the  Nerissa,  and  Miss  Marion  Terry  added 
to  the  interest  of  the  occasion — and  the  incongruity  of  the 
scene ! — by  appearing  as  the  Clerk  of  the  Court.  The 


353       THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xx. 

hundredth  night  of  ''Romeo  and  Juliet"  followed  hard  upon 
this — 24th  June  being  the  exact  date.  The  occasion  was 
celebrated  by  a  banquet  on  the  stage  of  the  Lyceum  which, 
for  the  time  being,  was  turned  into  a  festive  hall,  adorned 
with  tapestry  and  flowers.  A  grove  of  artificial  greenery 
divided  the  stage  from  the  auditorium,  where,  in  the  "dim, 
religious  light,"  music  was  played  at  intervals.  The  Earl  of 
Lytton  ("Owen  Meredith,"  1831-1891),  presided  over  a 
company  of  over  a  hundred  representatives  of  art,  the  drama, 
and  literature.  In  giving  the  toast  of  the  evening,  he 
touched,  most  happily,  upon  some  of  the  reasons  for  Irving's 
success  with  the  Shakespearean  drama,  and  he  made  a  deep 
impression  upon  his  audience  as  to  the  true  sense  of  Irving's 
artistic  mission.  "In  the  course  of  his  brilliant  career  as  an 
actor,"  he  said,  "  Mr.  Irving  has  sustained  many  characters. 
In  all  of  them  he  will  be  long  and  admirably  remembered ; 
but  in  none  of  them  has  he  established  a  more  general  and 
permanent  claim  to  our  gratitude  than  in  the  character  by 
which  he  is  so  worthily  known  to  us  as  the  illustrious  successor 
of  my  lamented  friend,  the  late  Mr.  Macready,  in  the 
beneficent  task  of  restoring  to  the  British  stage  its  ancient 
and  now  prolific  alliance  with  the  literature  and  poetry  of  our 
country.  Speaking  here  as  the  son  of  an  English  writer, 
who  was  not  unconnected  with  the  stage,  and  who,  were  he 
still  living,  would,  I  am  sure,  be  worthily  interested  in  the 
success  of  Mr.  Irving's  noble  undertaking,  and  gratefully 
acknowledge,  in  all  that  tends  to  record  and  confirm  such 
an  alliance,  the  promise  of  a  threefold  benefit — a  benefit  to 
our  national  literature,  because,  without  it,  that  literature 
would  remain  comparatively  barren  or  undeveloped  in  one 
of  the  highest  departments  of  imaginative  writing — a  benefit 
to  our  national  stage,  because  without  it  the  genius  of  our 
actors,  when  seeking  opportunities  for  the  expression  of  its 
highest  powers  in  the  performance  of  great  parts  and  great 
plays,  must  remain  dependent  more  or  less  upon  the  dramatic 
productions,  either  of  former  generations  or  foreign  countries  ; 
and  a  benefit  to  our  national  society,  because  there  is  no 


i882]      "OWEN  MEREDITH'S"  TRIBUTE         359 

surer  test  of  the  relative  place  to  be  assigned  to  any  modern 
community  in  a  state  of  social  civilisation  than  the  intellectual 
character  of  its  public  amusements  ;  and  in  elevating  these 
you  exalt  the  whole  community.  Now  I  feel  sure  you  will 
agree  with  me  that  no  living  English  actor  has  done  more  in 
this  direction  than  Mr.  Irving ;  and  he  has  done  it  not  by 
sacrificing  all  other  conditions  of  dramatic  effect  to  the  dis- 
play of  his  own  idiosyncrasy  as  an  actor,  but  by  associating 
his  peculiar  powers  as  an  actor  with  a  rarely  cultivated  and 
thoughtful  study  of  that  harmonious  unity  of  dramatic  im- 
pressions which  is  essential  to  the  high  order  of  dramatic  per- 
formances. Mr.  Irving's  eminence  as  an  actor  needs  from 
me  no  individual  recognition.  1 1  has  long  ago  been  established, 
and  in  connection  with  its  latest  manifestation,  it  has  been 
re-affirmed  with  enthusiasm  by  a  popular  verdict  which 
supersedes  all  personal  comment.  But  there  is  one  character- 
istic of  his  talents  which  has,  I  think,  been  specially  conducive 
to  its  popularity.  It  requires  a  great  actor  to  perform  a  great 
part,  just  as  it  requires  a  great  author  to  write  one.  But  it 
requires,  I  think,  from  a  great  actor  certain  special  and  un- 
common powers  to  enable  him  to  throw  the  whole  force  of 
his  mind  creatively  into  every  detail  of  a  great  play,  giving 
to  the  pervading  vital  spirit  of  it  an  adequately  complete,  ap- 
propriate, and  yet  original  embodiment.  This  peculiar  quality 
of  Mr.  Irving's  mind  and  management  has  been  conspicuously 
revealed  in  his  conception  and  production  of  the  play,  whose 
one  hundredth  performance  at  this  theatre  we  celebrate  to-night. 
"  Now,  though '  Romeo  and  Juliet '  is  one  of  the  most  poetic, 
it  is  certainly  one  of  the  least  dramatic,  of  Shakespeare's 
tragedies.  To  us  its  main  charm  and  interest  must  always 
be  poetic  rather  than  dramatic.  Even  in  the  versification  of 
it  Shakespeare  has  adopted,  as  he  has  adopted  in  no  other 
drama,  forms  peculiar  to  the  early  love-poetry  of  Italy  and 
Provence.  Its  true  dramatis  personae  are  not  mere  mortal 
Montagues  and  Capulets,  they  are  those  beautiful  immortals, 
love  and  youth,  in  an  ideal  land  of  youth  and  love — and  those 
delicate  embodiments  of  a  passionate  romance  Shakespeare 


360      THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xx. 

has  surrounded  with  a  scenery  and  invested  with  an  atmos- 
phere of  sensuous  beauty.  This  atmosphere  is  the  only 
medium  through  which  we  can  view  them  in  their  true 
poetic  perspective  and  right  relation  to  that  imaginary  world 
in  which  alone  they  naturally  breathe  and  move  and  have 
their  being.  But  it  is  this  subtle  atmosphere  of  surrounding 
beauty  which  invariably  and  inevitably  escapes  in  the  ordin- 
ary stage  performance  of  the  play,  and  it  is,  I  conceive,  the 
surpassing  merits  of  Mr.  Irving's  conception  and  treatment 
of  the  play  to  have  restored  to  it,  or  rather  to  have  given  for 
the  first  time  to  its  stage  performance,  the  indefinable,  per- 
vading charm  of  what  I  can  only  call  its  natural  poetic 
climate.  In  the  production  of  this  result  he  has  successfully 
employed,  no  doubt,  scenic  effects,  which  attest  a  creative 
imagination  of  no  common  force  and  sweetness.  But  the 
result  is  by  no  means  due  to  scenic  effect  alone.  Did  time 
allow,  I  think  I  could  trace  it  through  numerous  details  of 
singular  delicacy  to  the  unobtrusive  and  pervading  influence 
of  an  original  mind  upon  the  whole  arrangement  and  per- 
formance of  the  play,  and  we  should  indeed  be  ungrateful 
for  the  pleasure  it  has  given  us,  if  we  forget,  on  this  occasion, 
how  largely  that  pleasure  is  due  to  the  refined  and  graceful 
exercise  of  such  charming  talents  as  those  which  delighted  us 
in  the  acting  of  Miss  Terry  and  Mrs.  Stirling,  and  to  the 
general  intelligence  of  all  who  have  supported  Mr.  Irving  in 
thus  successfully  carrying  out  his  own  brilliant  conception  of 
the  play." 

In  his  reply  to  this  simple,  direct,  and  truthful  testimony 
to  his  achievements — an  "appreciation"  which  was  all  the 
more  gratifying  since  it  was  not  mere  empty  eulogy — the 
actor-manager  touched  with  a  light  hand  upon  the  subject  so 
dear  to  him — the  stage — and  created  an  impression  of  "rare 
intellectual  sympathy ".  The  harmony  of  the  evening  was 
increased  by  the  proposal  of  the  health  of  the  Lord  Mayor 
by  George  Augustus  Sala  in  a  speech  in  the  happiest  and 
most  genial  manner  of  that  brilliant  journalist. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


June,  1882 — nth  October,  1883. 

Master  Harry  and  Master  Laurence  Irving — The  success  of  "  Romeo 
and  Juliet  " — 161  performances  and  a  profit  of  ^10,000 — A  reading  of 
"  Much  Ado  " — A  remarkable  speech — "  Much  Ado  About  Nothing  " 
revived — Its  wonderful  success — 212  consecutive  performances  and  a  pro- 
fit of  ^26,000 — An  enthusiastic  audience — Irving's  valedictory  speech — 
Some  interesting  figures — Farewell  banquet  in  St.  James's  Hall — Lord 
Coleridge's  eloquent  tribute — Farewell  visits  to  Glasgow,  Edinburgh,  and 
Liverpool — Speech  at  the  Edinburgh  Pen  and  Pencil  Club — Farewell 
speech  in  Liverpool — Sails  for  America. 

ANOTHER  event  occurred  in  June,  1882,  which  should 
be  chronicled,  inasmuch  as  it  appertains  to  the  personal  his- 
tory of  the  subject  of  this  biography.  On  Friday,  the  3Oth 
of  that  month,  at  the  Duke  of  Wellington's  Riding  School, 
Knightsbridge,  a  "Grand  Lilliputian  Fancy  Fair"  was  held, 
in  aid  of  a  charity,  and  the  screen  scene  from  "  The  School 
for  Scandal "  was  given  —amongst  other  entertainments— 
with  the  following  cast : — 


SIR  PETER  TEAZLE   - 
JOSEPH  SURFACE 
CHARLES  SURFACE     - 
SERVANT  - 
LADY  TEAZLE   - 


Miss  JOSEPHINE  WEBLING. 
Master  HARRY  IRVING. 
Master  LAURENCE  IRVING. 
Master  JOHN  GARRETT. 
Miss  PEGGY  WEBLING. 


The  children,  who  had  been  trained  by  Mrs.  Chippendale, 
acquitted  themselves  well  in  somewhat  unfavourable  circum- 
stances, for  there  was  an  intolerable  noise  from  the  fair. 
Nevertheless,  a  discerning  critic  discovered  that  "the  two 
juvenile  sons  of  Mr.  Henry  Irving  manifest  a  decided  his- 
trionic 'heredity 'in  their  impersonations".  It  is  interesting 
to  think  that  while  his  children — they  were  then  in  their 
twelfth  and  eleventh  years,  respectively — were  thus  showing 
their  hereditary  talent,  Henry  Irving  was  in  a  brilliant  and 

361 


362     THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  XXL 

unassailable  position.  After  many  years  of  incessant  hard 
work  he  had  reached  a  period  in  his  career  which  lasted  in 
unshaken,  steady  success  until  health  and  strength  could  no 
longer  stand  against  disasters  which  would  have  appalled  the 
weak,  but  which  left  him  still  determined. 

These  days  of  "  Romeo  and  Juliet"  were  happy  ones 
and  they  ushered  in  still  better  times.  One  of  the  many 
people  who  have  written  biographies  of  the  actor-manager 
says:  " one  feels  anxious,  in  the  interests  of  Irving,  to  pass 
over  *  Romeo  and  Juliet'  quickly".  There  is  no  need,  how- 
ever, for  apology  on  this  score.  Romeo  was  not  by  any 
means  Irving's  best  performance,  any  more  than  Juliet  was 
Ellen  Terry's  highest  achievement.  But,  in  neither  case, 
was  there  anything  to  be  ashamed  of;  and  the  actor  has  not 
yet  lived  who  was  equally  good  in  every  character  which  he 
undertook.  It  was  not  a  crime,  as  some  people  seem  to 
think,  for  an  actor — at  the  age  of  forty-four — to  attempt  to 
impersonate  Romeo,  even  though  he  was  lacking  in  the 
physical  qualifications  of  the  part.  The  public  did  not  think 
so  indifferently  of  the  experiment,  for  "Romeo  and  Juliet" 
was  played  throughout  the  season — 8th  March  to  2 9th  July 
inclusive — and,  on  the  re-opening  of  the  Lyceum  in  September, 
it  was  again  brought  out  and  played  until  one  hundred  and 
sixty-one  performances  had  been  given,  with  only  a  break  of 
five  weeks  for  the  necessary  summer  vacation.  Moreover— 
and  this  should  be  noted — during  the  first  five  months  of  its 
run  it  drew  ,£34,000  odd.  On  this  sum,  despite  the  enormous 
expenses — and  no  other  manager  ever  had  so  heavy  a  pay- 
roll— there  was  a  profit  of  ,£10,000.  "Two  Roses"  brought 
in  a  balance  to  the  good  of  more  than  £"2,000,  so  that  the 
net  financial  result  of  the  eight  months'  season  did  not  leave 
much  cause  for  complaint.  The  sale  of  books  of  the  Lyceum 
version  of  the  immortal  love  tragedy  realised  over  £"400. 

Not  content  with  his  duties  to  the  public,  Irving  occasion- 
ally gave  readings  in  private.  One  of  the  most  notable  of 
these  appearances  took  place  on  2Oth  July  at  the  residence 
of  Sir  Theodore  and  Lady  Martin  (Helen  Faucit),  31  Onslow 


i882]    END  OF  A  MEMORABLE  SEASON        363 

Square.     The  programme  on  this  interesting  occasion  was  as 
follows : — 

"MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING." 

BEATRICE Lady  MARTIN. 

HERO Miss  ROSINA  FILIPPI. 


URSULA  - 
BENEDICK 
LEONATO 
ANTONIO  - 
CLAUDIO  - 
DON  PEDRO 


Miss  STOKES. 

Mr.  HENRY  IRVING. 

Rev.  ALFRED  AINGER. 

Sir  THEODORE  MARTIN. 

Mr.  TREVOR. 

Mr.  BENSON. 


FRIAR Mr.  W.  FARREN,  Junr. 

A  few  nights  afterwards — on  Saturday,  2 9th  July — an- 
other memorable  season  ended  at  the  Lyceum.  The  actor- 
manager,  who  now  knew  that  he  had  the  world  at  his  feet, 
took  occasion  to  rebuke  some  of  the  various  people  who  were 
constantly  attempting  to  teach  him  his  own  business.  He  was 
getting  just  a  little  tired  of  such  impertinences — as  they  would 
certainly  be  considered  if  applied  to  any  modern  actor — but 
he  did  not  give  vent  to  indignation  or  vehemence.  He  was 
sure  of  his  proud  place  with  the  public,  so  he  resorted  to  that 
mild  sarcasm  in  which  he  knew  well  how  to  indulge.  The  text 
of  his  speech  is  given  in  full  on  this  occasion,  as  such  an  address, 
in  his  own  words,  proves  how- — even  now,  when  he  was  at  the 
zenith  of  his  career — the  yelping  of  the  envious  and  the 
snarling  at  his  success  went  on  unceasingly.  This  is  what  he 
said  :  "The  curtain  has  fallen  on  '  Romeo  and  Juliet'  for  the 
one  hundred  and  thirtieth  time,  and  I  hope  you  will  permit  it 
on  2nd  September,  this  day  five  weeks,  to  rise  again  upon  the 
play  presented  to-night.  I  am  told  sometimes  that  I  do  wrong 
to  inflict  on  you  the  tediousness  of  Shakespeare,  an  author 
whose  works  some  of  the  wise  judges  of  dramatic  art  assure 
us  are  rather  dull  and  tiresome  to  a  nineteenth-century  audience. 
Perhaps  Shakespeare  would  find  some  of  us  a  little  dull  and 
tiresome,  too ;  but,  be  that  as  it  may,  I  fear  I  shall  continue  in 
my  misguided  course  as  long  as  I  meet  with  your  support  to 
warrant  my  perseverance ;  and,  for  those  who  find  his  works 
dull  and  tedious,  we  shall  be  happy  to  put  them  on  the  free 
list  when  you  are  kind  enough  to  leave  room  for  them.  I  am 


364     THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xxi. 

glad  to  tell  you  that  the  season  just  past  has  realised  nothing 
but  success.  We  began  with  the  *  Two  Roses,'  which  you  re- 
ceived with  great  favour,  and  which  was  played  until  the  pro- 
duction of  *  Romeo  and  Juliet'.  '  Romeo  and  Juliet'  was  no 
light  undertaking,  and  it  is  perhaps  worth  recording  that,  out 
of  twenty  characters,  more  or  less,  in  the  play,  not  one  of  them 
had  ever  been  attempted  by  any  of  us  before  ;  so  that  to  each 
actor  in  the  cast  it  was  a  first  night's  representation.  This, 
in  a  Shakespeare  play,  is  somewhat  remarkable,  and  difficult 
beyond  belief  to  all  who  know  the  difficulties  under  which 
actors  labour  on  their  first  appearances  in  what  are  called 
legitimate  parts.  Every  part  has  been  acted  before— and 
various  standards  of  opinions  have  been  formed  and  volumes 
probably  written  upon  them.  It  is  a  common  thing  to  hear 
an  actor  say,  'Ah,  give  me  an  original  part,'  meaning  a  part 
that  cannot  be  judged  by  precedent.  It  was  thought  by  some, 
I  remember,  that  I  had  overdone  our  play  with  scenery  and 
trappings,  and  that  I  had  spent  too  much  upon  its  production. 
That  I  don't  dispute,  but  that  it  was  overdone — I  do. 
Nothing,  to  my  mind,  can  be  overdone  upon  the  stage  that  is 
beautiful — I  mean  correct  and  harmonious,  and  that  heightens, 
not  dwarfs,  the  imagination  and  reality.  I  took  no  less  com- 
parative pains  in  producing  '  The  Captain  of  the  Watch '  or 
the  '  Two  Roses '.  The  next  play — and  I  must  again  inflict 
upon  you  the  tediousness  of  Shakespeare — the  next  play  which 
we  shall  have  the  honour  of  presenting  will  be  *  Much  Ado 
About  Nothing,'  the  cast  of  which  will  be  the  best  I  can  by 
every  possibility  command.  What  our  next  venture  may  be 
after  that  I  can  hardly  now  say,  for,  like  a  good  skipper,  I 
must  closely  watch  the  breeze  of  your  desire  and  trim  my  sails 
accordingly. 

"  On  behalf  of  the  Lyceum  company,  I  must  thank  you  for 
the  manifold  kindness  you  have  shown,  and  I  must  especially 
thank  you  on  behalf  of  Mrs.  Stirling,  whose  performance  of  the 
Nurse  will,  I  am  sure,  be  long  remembered  by  you,  and  on 
behalf  of  Miss  Ellen  Terry.  To  play  the  part  of  Juliet  one 
hundred  and  thirty  consecutive  times  and  never  to  have  faltered 


1882] 


AN  OLD  CUSTOM 


365 


is  an  effort  calling  forth  an  energy  both  of  brain  and  soul — a 
feat  of  physical  endurance  not  often  accomplished,  and  seldom, 
I  am  glad  to  say,  if  ever,  required  of  an  artist.  You  will  per- 
haps say,  '  Then  why  require  it  ? '  Ladies  and  gentlemen, 
'  Those  who  live  to  please  must  please  to  live '.  Success  cannot 
be  commanded  in  theatrical  matters.  If  you  like  the  present- 
ment of  a  play  you  will  come  and  see  it ;  if  you  don't  like  it  you 
will  stay  away,  and  if  you  do  come  and  see  it  in  goodly 
numbers,  it  is  a  manager's  duty  to  continue  it.  *  While  you 
have  success  keep  it,'  should  be  the  motto  of  the  manager  of 
a  big  theatre,  for  sympathy  without  success  will  soon  shut  up 
his  theatre.  For  myself,  whilst  thanking  you  for  the  brilliant 
attendance  with  which  you  have  honoured  me  to-night  (another 
proof  of  your  favour),  I  have  a  confession  to  make  which  lies 
heavy  upon  my  breast,  for  if  I  am  to  credit  a  certain  authority, 
I  have  grievously  offended  you.  It  seems  I  have  been  guilty 
of  sanctioning  a  custom  more  honoured  in  the  breach  than 
the  observance — the  custom  of  what  is  called  taking  a '  benefit '. 
Benefits,  it  appears,  should  never  be  taken,  should  be  forgot, 
at  least  by  actors  whom  your  favour  has  cherished  with  pros- 
perity and  honour.  Now,  I  beg  to  differ  from  this  view,  and 
having  the  respect  and  honour  of  my  calling  thoroughly  and 
seriously  at  heart,  would  not  forget  the  old  custom.  Ladies 
and  gentlemen,  few  of  you,  I  daresay,  have  come  here  to- 
night with  the  impression  that  your  money  will  be  welcome  to 
an  impoverished  treasury.  It  is  not  to  put  money  in  my  purse 
or  to  take  it  out  of  yours  that  I  cling  to  the  old  custom.  But 
I  cannot  deny  myself  at  the  end  of  each  season  the  gratifica- 
tion of  reading  in  your  kindly  faces  that  approbation  which  I 
deserve  so  imperfectly,  but  which,  believe  me,  I  value  so 
highly.  Thanks  to  your  generous  favour,  every  night  is  a 
benefit  or  otherwise  to  me  as  a  manager,  but  on  occasions  like 
this  I  come  forward — and  I  am  not  ashamed  to  do  so,  as  many 
great  masters  of  my  art  have  done  so  before  me — to  take  a 
special  benefit,  the  benefit  of  seeing  around  me  many  of  my 
best  and  well-tried  friends — best  and  well-tried  because 
throughout  my  career,  through  all  my  struggles,  through  my 


366     THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xxi. 

failures  and  successes,  they  have  succoured  me  with  their 
hearty  sympathy  and  cheered  me  with  their  ungrudging  en- 
couragement. Ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  thank  you  with  all  my 
heart,  and  wish  you  but  for  a  little  time '  Good-bye,'  and  I  hope 
I  shall  never  be  guilty  of  worse  taste  or  greater  vulgarity  than 
in  appearing  before  you  as  I  do  to-night ;  and  whether  it  may 
be  called  a  benefit  or  by  any  other  name,  I  shall  be  proud  of 
the  occasion  which  can  gather  together  supch  a  distinguished 
assembly  as  have  honoured  me  with  their  presence  to-night." 


MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 
Revived  at  the  Lyceum,  nth  October,  1882. 


BENEDICK 
DON  PEDRO    - 
DON  JOHN 
CLAUDIO 
LEONATO 
ANTONIO 
BALTHAZAR     - 
BORACHIO 

CONRADE 

FRIAR  FRANCIS 

DOGBERY 

VERGES  - 
SEACOAL 
OATCAKE 
A  SEXTON 
A  MESSENGER 
A  BOY    - 
HERO      - 
MARGARET 
URSULA  - 
BEATRICE 


Mr.  HENRY  IRVING. 

Mr.  W.  TERRISS. 

Mr.  C.  GLENNEY. 

Mr.  FORBES-ROBERTSON. 

Mr.  FERNANDEZ. 

Mr.  H.  HOWE. 

Mr.  J.  ROBERTSON. 

Mr.  F.  TYARS. 

Mr.  HUDSON. 

Mr.  MEAD. 

Mr.  S.  JOHNSON. 

Mr.  STANISLAUS  CALHAEM. 

Mr.  ARCHER. 

Mr.  HARBURY. 

Mr.  CARTER. 

Mr.  HAVILAND. 

Miss  K.  BROWN. 

Miss  MILLWARD. 

Miss  HARWOOD. 

Miss  L.  PAYNE. 

Miss  ELLEN  TERRY. 


ACT  I.,  SCENE.  Leonato's  House.  ACT  II.,  SCENE  i.  Before 
Leonato's  House ;  SCENE  2.  Hall  in  Leonato's  House.  ACT 
III.,  SCENE  i.  Before  Leonato's  House;  SCENE  2.  Leonato's 
Garden — Evening;  SCENE  3.  Leonato's  Garden — Morning; 
SCENE  4.  The  Cedar  Walk;  SCENE  5.  A  Street.  ACT  IV., 
SCENE.  Inside  a  Church.  ACT  V.,  SCENE  i.  A  Prison; 
SCENE  2.  Leonato's  Garden ;  SCENE  3.  The  Monument  of 
Leonato ;  SCENE  4.  Hall  in  Leonato's  House. 


As  promised  in  July,  Irving  re-opened  the  Lyceum  on  2nd 
September,  with  "  Romeo  and  Juliet."  On  that  date,  the 
tragedy  was  presented  by  him  for  the  hundred  and  sixty-first, 
and  last,  time.  On  nth  October,  he  revived  "  Much  Ado 
About  Nothing  "  and  entered  upon  a  period  of  prosperity  and 
popularity  for  which  we  look  in  vain  for  any  approach  in  the 
history  of  the  higher  drama.  In  recent  years,  there  has  been  a 


1882]       "MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING"        367 

disposition  to  belittle,  among  Irving's  other  achievements,  this 
particular  revival,  and,  of  course,  without  any  foundation  but 
the  usual  one  of  "  envy,  malice,  and  all  uncharitableness  ".  To 
those  who  are  possessed  of  the  knowledge  of  the  true  state  of 
the  case,  such  statements  could  only  seem  ridiculous  if  they 
were  not  so  absolutely  wicked.  For  the  present,  it  will  suffice  to 
state  a  few  facts  which  are  beyond  all  controversy.  Let  us 
begin  with  the  actual  reception  of  the  performance  on  the  first 
night  of  the  revival.  The  Daily  Telegraph  opened  a  two- 
column  account  of  the  revival  with  a  reference  to  the  audience  : 
"  There  was  but  one  remark  heard  last  night  as  an  audience, 
with  pleasure  written  on  every  countenance,  filed  out  of  the 
handsome  theatre  into  the  wet  and  miserable  streets.  All  had 
gone  more  than  well — far  better,  indeed,  that  the  most  sanguine 
could  have  expected — to  instances  of  individual  excellence  was 
added  a  high  tone  of  general  merit,  and  never  before  in  the 
memory  of  the  oldest  playgoer,  had  '  Much  Ado  About  Noth- 
ing '  been  so  well  acted  or  so  sumptuously  attired.  Of  course 
Mr.  Irving  came  forward  when  all  was  over,  with  genuine 
satisfaction  written  on  his  face,  and  modestly  talked  of  the 
'  shortcomings '  of  himself  and  company,  at  which  all  present 
set  up  a  disapproving  shout,  and  intimated,  as  was  indeed  the 
case,  how  excellently  each  performer  had  gone  through  with 
his  allotted  task.  The  spirit  and  gaiety  of  the  acting  were 
delightful  to  the  ordinary  spectator ;  the  interpretation  of  the 
play,  from  first  to  last,  was  welcome  to  the  most  precise  and 
exacting  student."  Page  after  page  of  praise  for  the  revival — 
and  of  every  phase  of  it — -might  be  cited,  but,  for  the  moment, 
let  us  confine  ourselves  to  mere  fact.  Let  us  take  the  opinion 
of  Dutton  Cook — the  least  enthusiastic  of  the  dramatic  critics 
of  his  day — as  to  the  Benedick.  He  described  the  character, 
as  impersonated  by  Irving,  as  "  a  valorous  cavalier,  who  rejoices 
in  brave  apparel  and  owns  a  strong  feeling  for  humour ;  over 
his  witty  encounters  with  Beatrice  there  presides  a  spirit  of 
pleasantness  ;  his  rudest  sallies  are  so  mirthfully  spoken  as  to 
be  deprived  of  all  real  offensiveness  ;  he  banters  like  a  gentle- 
man, and  not  like  a  churl ;  he  is  a  privileged  railer  at  women,  a 


368     THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  XXL 

recognised  jester  at  marriage,  but  a  popular  person  neverthe- 
less. The  stage  Benedick  has  been  apt  to  be  something  of  a 
bully,  as  the  stage  Beatrice  has  been  often  very  much  of  a 
scold.  At  the  Lyceum  it  is  clearly  shown  that  the  very  com- 
bativeness  of  Benedick  and  Beatrice  is  an  evidence  of  their 
mutual  regard.  They  delight  in  controversy,  because,  uncon- 
sciously, it  involves  companionship.  Their  war  of  words  is 
always  'a  merry  war'.  The  aversion  with  which  their  love 
commences  is  purely  artificial ;  the  more  they  traffic  in  satire 
and  epigram,  the  closer  they  are  brought  together ;  their  passion 
for  ridicule  is  a  sort  of  common  ground  upon  which  they  meet, 
and  in  the  sequel  are  unwilling  to  part."  Benedick  and 
Beatrice,  in  short,  were  presented  at  the  Lyceum  in  the  spirit 
of  high  comedy.  Irving's  chief  successes  were  in  Benedick's 
soliloquy  in  the  third  act,  "which  is  very  happily  delivered, 
while  in  the  later  dialogues  with  Beatrice,  and  the  scene  of  his 
challenging  Claudio,  the  actor's  success  is  supreme."  As  a 
production,  "  Much  Ado  About  Nothing"  was  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  of  all  Irving's  tributes  to  Shakespeare.  Apart 
from  its  wealth  of  scenery  and  costume,  it  was  notable  for  be- 
ing the  fourth  Shakespearean  play  with  Italian  pictures  for  a 
background  which  he  had  brought  out  within  three  years. 
Yet,  fine  as  were  the  revivals  of  "The  Merchant  of  Venice," 
"  Othello,"  and  "  Romeo  and  Juliet,"  not  only  did  "  Much  Ado 
About  Nothing  "  eclipse  them  all  in  the  matter  of  decoration, 
but  it  differed  in  respect  to  the  variety  of  scene  which  Irving 
gave  to  it.  For  he  was  the  one  man  of  his  time  who  under- 
stood that  money  could  not  accomplish  everything  on  the  stage 
—he  was  lavish,  when  need  be,  but  he  possessed  supreme  taste, 
as  well  as  infinite  patience. 

As  for  the  Beatrice  of  Miss  Ellen  Terry,  it  was  an  imper- 
sonation of  sheer  brilliancy  and  allurement.  It  received,  and 
deservedly  so,  the  warmest  admiration  from  all  ranks  of  play- 
goers. It  was,  indeed,  felt  to  be  a  matchless  performance, 
radiant  with  good  humour  and  instilled  with  grace.  Then, 
again,  the  excellence  of  the  general  cast  was  wonderful.  More 
than  twenty-five  years  have  passed  since  that  first  night,  but 


1 883]  A  REMARKABLE  SCENE  369 

the  memory  of  it  brings  back  pictures  of  harmonious  acting 
which,  in  this  particular  play,  would  be  impossible  of  attain- 
ment under  modern  conditions.  And  the  artistic  success  of 
the  revival  was  equalled  by  the  financial  result.  The  comedy 
was  represented  without  interruption  from  i  ith  October,  1882, 
until  ist  June,  1883,  and  was  then  withdrawn,  literally  in  the 
height  of  its  success,  in  consequence  of  arrangements — the 
forthcoming  visit  to  America — which  made  certain  revivals 
imperative.  The  profit  for  this  first  run — two  hundred  and 
twelve  consecutive  performances — was  nearly  ,£26,000,  and 
this  with  an  expenditure  of  ten  thousand  pounds  more  than 
that  sum ! 

The  revivals  in  question  were  the  outcome  of  an  arrange- 
ment which  had  been  made  a  twelvemonth  previously  for  a 
tour  of  America.  Irving,  who  never  left  anything  to  chance, 
regarded  these  revivals  not  only  as  potent  attractions — as 
they  proved  to  be — but  as  rehearsals  for  his  important  under- 
taking. These  farewell  performances  began  with  "The 
Bells,"  and  were  followed  by  "The  Lyons  Mail" — in  which 
Miss  Terry  acted  the  small  part  of  the  outcast  Jeanette— 
"Charles  the  First,"  "  Hamlet,"  "The  Merchant  of  Venice," 
"Eugene  Aram" — reduced  to  one  act — and  "The  Belle's 
Stratagem, "and  "  Louis  XI."  On  the  afternoon  of  I4th  June, 
it  should  also  be  mentioned,  Irving  resumed  a  familiar  char- 
acter, Robert  Macaire,  in  a  performance  given  on  behalf  of 
the  Royal  College  of  Music,  which  resulted  in  the  addition  of 
the  handsome  sum  of  a  thousand  pounds  to  the  funds  of  that 
institution. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  scenes  in  the  history  of  the 
English  stage  took  place  on  the  closing  night  of  the  season. 
As  usual,  this  was  allotted  to  the  actor-manager's  "benefit". 
The  programme  was  opened  with  the  condensed  version  of 
"  Eugene  Aram,"  with  Irving  as  the  conscience-stricken 
murderer  and  Miss  Terry  as  Ruth  Meadows.  A  song  by 
Mr.  Herbert  Reeves,  Toole  in  his  sketch,  "Trying  a  Magis- 
trate," "  The  Death  of  Nelson  "  and  "  Then  You'll  Remember 

Me,"   rendered   with    wonderful   effect   by   Sims    Reeves— 
VOL.  i.  24 


370     THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  xxi. 

preceded  "  The  Belle's  Stratagem  " — reduced  for  the  occasion 
to  two  acts — with  Irving  as  Doricourt  and  Miss  Terry  as 
Letitia  Hardy.  But  the  real  event  of  the  evening  was  the 
actor-manager's  farewell  speech.  Hardly  had  the  curtain 
fallen  on  the  last  act  of  the  comedy  ere  the  audience,  animated 
by  one  feeling,  gave  vent  to  their  pent-up  excitement  in  loud 
shouts  of  "Irving,  Irving!"  The  stage  was  deluged  with 
wreaths  and  bouquets,  in  the  midst  of  which  Henry  Irving 
presently  appeared.  The  actor  was  still  in  his  costume  as 
Doricourt,  but  without  the  wig,  looking  very  pale  and  evidently 
much  affected  by  the  affectionate  greeting.  When  the  cheers 
had  subsided,  he  advanced  to  the  footlights  and  spoke  as 
follows  :  "  Ladies  and  Gentlemen, — I  have  often  had  to  say 
'good-bye'  to  you  on  occasions  like  this,  but  never  has  the 
task  been  so  difficult  as  it  is  to-night,  for  we  are  about  to  have 
a  longer  separation  than  we  have  ever  had  before.  Soon  an 
ocean  will  roll  between  us,  and  it  will  be  a  long  time  before 
we  can  hear  your  heart-stirring  cheers  again.  It  is  some  con- 
solation, though,  to  think  that  we  shall  carry  with  us  across 
the  Atlantic  the  goodwill  of  many  friends  who  are  here  to- 
night, as  well  as  of  many  who  are  absent.  Here — in  this 
theatre — have  we  watched  the  growth  of  your  great  and 
generous  sympathy  with  our  work,  which  has  been  more  than 
rewarded  by  the  abundance  of  your  regard,  and  you  will  be- 
lieve me  when  I  say  I  acutely  feel  this  parting  with  those 
who  have  so  steadily  and  staunchly  sustained  me  in  my  career. 
Not  for  myself  alone  I  speak,  but  on  behalf  of  my  comrades, 
and  especially  for  Miss  Ellen  Terry.  Her  regret  at  parting 
with  you  is  equal  to  mine.  You  will,  I  am  sure,  miss  her— 
as  she  will  certainly  miss  you.  But  we  have  our  return  to 
look  forward  to,  and  it  will  be  a  great  pride  to  us  to  come 
back  with  the  stamp  of  the  favour  and  good-will  of  the 
American  people,  which,  believe  me,  we  shall  not  fail  to  obtain. 
The  2nd  of  next  June  will,  I  hope,  see  us  home  with  you 
again.  We  shall  have  acted  in  America  for  six  months,  from 
2  Qth  October  to  the  2  9th  of  the  following  April,  during  which 
time  we  shall  have  played  in  some  forty  cities.  Before  our 


1 883]  A  STRANGE  CONTRAST  371 

departure  we  shall  appear  in  Glasgow,  Edinburgh,  and  Liver- 
pool, from  whence  we  start  upon  our  expedition.    This  theatre 
will  not  be  closed  long;  for  on  the   ist  of  September  a  lady 
will  appear  before  you  whose  beauty  and  talent  have  made 
her   the  favourite   of  America   from  Maine  to    California- 
Miss  Mary  Anderson — a.  lady  to  whom  I  am  sure  you  will 
give  the  heartiest  English  welcome — that  is  a  foregone  con- 
clusion.    You  will,  I  know,  extend  the  same  welcome  to  my 
friend,  Lawrence  Barrett,  the  famous  American  actor,  who  will 
appear  here  in  the  early  part  of  next  year.      It  is  a  delight  to 
me,  as  it  must  have  been  to  you,  to  have  my  friend  Sims 
Reeves  here  to-night,  and  I  hope  that  the  echo  of  the  words  so 
beautifully  sung  by  him  will  linger  in  your  memories,  and  that 
you  will  remember  me ;  and  it  has  also  been  a  great  delight 
to  have  had  my  old  friend,  Toole,  and  my  young  friend,  Herbert 
Reeves,  here  to-night.     At  all  times  it  is  a  happy  thing  to  be 
surrounded  by  friends,  and  especially  on  such  an  occasion  as 
this.     And  now,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  must  say  'Good- 
bye '.     I  can  but  hope  that  in  our  absence  some  of  you  will 
miss  us ;  and  I  hope  that  when  we  return  you  will  be  here,  or 
some  few  of  you  at  least,  to  welcome  us  back.     From  one  and 
all  to  one  and  all,  with  full,  and  grateful,  and  hopeful,  hearts, 
I  wish  you,  lovingly  and  respectfully,  *  Good-bye ! '"  Words  are 
almost  useless  to  describe  the  scene  which  followed.     The 
band  played  "  Auld  Lang  Syne,"  and  the  curtain  was  again 
raised  disclosing  the  entire  Lyceum  company  on  the  stage,  a 
sight  which  caused  the  great  audience  to  burst  into  an  extra- 
ordinary tumult  of  enthusiasm.     Henry  Irving  might   well 
have  felt  that  he  had  no  more  triumphs  to  win ;  for  such  a 
tribute  of  enthusiastic  affection  would  fill  up  the  measure  of 
the  most  exacting  ambition.     The  Doricourt  of  that  evening 
was  in  strange  contrast  to  that  of  1866.     In  the  one  case,  a 
young  and   experienced   actor  was  on  the  threshold   of  his 
career  in   London ;  in  the  other,  he  had  conquered  the  play- 
goers of  his  native  land  and  he  was  on  the  eve  of  triumphs, 
such  as  no  other  English  actor  has  secured,  across  the  At- 
lantic. 

24* 


372     THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  XXL 

If  this  book  were  a  mere  chronicle  of  facts  and  figures, 
some  very  remarkable  statistics  might  be  given.  But  we 
must  be  content  with  only  a  glance,  here  and  there,  at  the 
extraordinary  sums  received  by  Henry  Irving  from  the  public. 
Thus,  for  instance,  the  season  which  had  just  closed  brought 
in  precisely  ,£86,579  123.  Qd.  Against  this,  there  was  the 
heavy  expenditure  of  ,£53,477  7s.  id.  Even  so,  a  profit  of 
over  £33,000  in  eleven  months  is  fairly  handsome  in  theatrical 
enterprise.  A  sum  of  £700  was  paid  by  the  public  in  this 
season  for  books  of  the  Lyceum  version  of  "  Romeo  and  Juliet " 
and  "  Much  Ado  About  Nothing".  The  triumph  of  London 
was  continued  in  the  provinces,  but,  ere  the  London  season 
closed,  some  social  events  took  place  which  must  be  recorded. 
On  Monday,  8th  May,  after  the  performance  of  "  Much  Ado 
About  Nothing,"  Irving  entertained  the  Prince  of  Wales  at  sup- 
per on  the  stage  of  the  Lyceum — converted  for  the  occasion  into 
a  handsome  tent — and  among  the  small  company  were  three 
actors,  Mr.  S.  B.  Bancroft,  Mr.  James  Fernandez,  and  J.  L. 
Toole,  and  George  Augustus  Sala.  On  Wednesday,  4th 
July,  a  banquet  was  given  to  the  actor  in  St.  James's  Hall. 
The  chair  was  taken  by  the  Lord  Chief  Justice  of  England. 
The  company  included  representatives  of  law  and  art,  music 
and  the  drama,  science  and  literature,  the  navy  and  army— 
in  short,  over  five  hundred  of  the  most  distinguished  men  in 
London  of  the  time  united  in  honouring  the  great  actor.  Lord 
Coleridge  in  proposing  the  toast  of  the  evening,  made  a  long 
and  learned  speech  in  the  course  of  which  he  reviewed  Irving's 
work  and  praised  him  highly  as  a  manager  as  well  as  an  actor. 
He  laid  particular  emphasis  on  Irving's  influence  in  connection 
with  the  stage  :  "  The  general  tone  and  atmosphere  of  a  theatre, 
wherever  Mr.  Irving's  influence  is  predominant,  has  been 
uniformly  higher  and  purer.  The  pieces  which  he  has  acted, 
and  the  way  he  has  acted  them,  have  always  been  such  that 
no  husband  need  hesitate  to  take  his  wife,  no  mother  to  take 
her  daughter,  where  Mr.  Irving  is  the  ruling  spirit.  He  has, 
I  believe,  recognised  that  in  this  matter  there  lies  upon  him, 
as  upon  every  one  in  his  position,  a  grave  responsibility.  He 


1883]        LORD  COLERIDGE'S  TRIBUTE  373 

has  felt,  possibly  unconsciously,  that  the  heroic  signal  of  Lord 
Nelson  ought  not  to  be  confined  in  its  application  simply  to 
men  of  arms,  but  that  England  expects  every  man  to  do  his 
duty  when  it  lays  upon  him  a  duty  to  do,  and  to  do  it  nobly 
(cheers).  Moreover,  I  believe  that  what  has  brought  us  to- 
gether to-night,  besides  that  feeling,  is  the  remembrance  of 
the  generosity  and  unselfishness  of  Mr.  Irving's  career 
(cheers).  He  has  shown  that  generosity  not  only  in  the 
parts  he  has  played,  but  in  the  parts  he  has  not  played.  He 
has  shown  that  he  did  not  care  to  be  always  the  central  figure 
of  a  surrounding  group,  in  which  every  one  was  to  be  sub- 
ordinated to  the  centre,  and  in  which  every  actor  was  to  be 
considered  as  a  foil  to  the  leading  part.  He  has  been  superior 
to  the  selfishness  which  now  and  again  has  interfered  with 
the  course  of  some  of  our  best  actors,  and  he  has  had  his  re- 
ward. He  has  collected  around  him  a  set  of  men  who,  I 
believe,  are  proud  to  act  with  him — (cheers) — men  whose 
feeling  to  wards  him  has  added  not  a  little  to  the  brilliant  success 
which  his  management  has  achieved  ;  men  who  feel  that  they 
act,  not  merely  under  a  manager,  but  under  a  friend ;  men 
who  are  proud  to  be  his  companions,  and  many  of  whom  have 
come  here  to-night  to  show  by  their  presence  that  they  are 
so  (cheers)". 

In  extolling  the  high  purpose  which  had  actuated  Henry 
Irving — which  continued  to  actuate  him,  be  it  said,  until  his 
death — Lord  Coleridge  said  :  "  It  is  because  we  believe  that 
those  high  aims  have  been  pursued  by  Mr.  Irving,  and  be- 
cause we  admire  his  character  in  so  pursuing  them,  that  this 
unexampled  gathering  has  come  here  to-night,"  whereat 
there  were  loud  and  prolonged  cheers.  Irving  replied  briefly, 
with  that  perfect  taste  which  ever  distinguished  him  when 
addressing  an  audience.  "  I  cannot  conceive  a  greater  hon- 
our entering  into  the  life  of  any  man,"  he  said,  "than  the 
honour  you  have  paid  me  by  assembling  here  to-night.  To 
look  around  this  room  and  scan  the  faces  of  my  distinguished 
hosts,  would  stir  to  its  depths  a  colder  nature  than  mine.  It 
is  not  in  my  power,  my  lords  and  gentlemen,  to  thank  you 


374     THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  XXL 

for  the  compliment  you  have  to-night  paid  me.  '  Those  friends 
thou  hast,  and  their  adoption  tried,  Grapple  them  to  thy  soul 
with  hoops  of  steel.'  Never  before  have  I  so  strongly  felt 
the  magic  of  those  words ;  but  you  will  remember  it  is  also 
said  in  the  same  sentence,  '  Give  thy  thoughts  no  tongue '. 
And  gladly,  had  it  been  possible,  would  I  have  obeyed  that 
wise  injunction  to-night.  The  actor  is  profoundly  influenced 
by  precedent,  and  I  cannot  forget  that  many  of  my  predecessors 
have  been  nerved  by  farewell  banquets  for  the  honour  which 
awaited  them  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic ;  but  this  oc- 
casion I  regard  as  much  more  than  a  compliment  to  myself,  I 
regard  it  as  a  tribute  to  the  art  which  I  am  proud  to  serve— 
and  I  believe  that  feeling  will  be  shared  by  the  profession  to 
which  you  have  assembled  to  do  honour.  The  time  has  long 
gone  by  when  there  was  any  need  to  apologise  for  the  actor's 
calling.  The  world  can  no  more  exist  without  the  drama  than 
it  can  without  its  sister  art — music.  The  stage  gives  the 
readiest  response  to  the  demand  of  human  nature,  to  be  trans- 
ported out  of  itself  into  the  realms  of  the  ideal — not  that  all 
our  ideals  on  the  stage  are  realised — none  but  the  artist  knows 
how  immeasurably  he  may  fall  short  of  his  aim  or  his  conception, 
but  to  have  an  ideal  in  art  and  to  strive  through  one's  life  to 
embody  it,  may  be  a  passion  to  the  actor  as  it  may  be  to  the 
poet.  Your  lordship  has  spoken  most  eloquently  of  my  career. 
Possessed  of  a  generous  mind  and  a  high  judicial  faculty,  your 
lordship  has  been  to-night,  I  fear,  more  generous  than  judicial. 
But  if  I  have  in  any  way  deserved  commendation,  I  am  proud 
that  it  was  as  an  actor  that  I  won  it.  As  the  director  of  a 
theatre  my  experience  has  been  short,  but  as  an  actor  I  have 
been  before  the  London  public  for  seventeen  years ;  and  on 
one  thing  I  am  sure  you  will  all  agree — that  no  actor  or 
manager  has  ever  received  from  that  public  more  generous, 
ungrudging  encouragement  and  support.  .  .  .  The  climax 
of  the  favour  extended  to  me  by  my  countrymen  has  been 
reached  to-night.  You  have  set  upon  me  a  burden  of  re- 
sponsibility— a  burden  which  I  gladly  and  proudly  bear.  The 
memory  of  to-night  will  be  to  me  a  sacred  thing — a  memory 


1883]  KNIGHTHOOD  DECLINED  375 

which  will,  throughout  my  life,  be  ever  treasured — a  memory 
which  will  stimulate  me  to  further  endeavour,  and  encourage 
me  to  loftier  aim." 

Covers,  it  may  be  added,  were  laid  for  five  hundred  and 
twenty  gentlemen,  and  four  hundred  ladies  heard  the  speeches 
from  the  galleries  of  the  hall.  Long  accounts  appeared  in  the 
American  newspapers — the  United  States  Ambassador,  the 
Hon.  J.  Russell  Lowell,  made  one  of  the  chief  speeches  of 
the  evening.  This  public  testimonial  was  followed  by  a 
supper  of  honour  at  the  Garrick  Club  given  by  Mr.  Bancroft 
and  attended  by  over  eighty  representatives  of  the  stage — 
the  greater  number  of  those  present  being  prominent  English 
and  American  actors.  There  is  no  occasion  to  print  the 
glowing  eulogy  of  the  host  or  the  full  reply  made  by  the  guest 
of  the  evening.  It  is  curious,  however,  to  recall  Irving's 
remarks  on  the  subject  of  titles  for  actors.  It  was  an  open 
secret  that  he  had  been  offered — and  had  declined — a  knight- 
hood. "  Titles  for  painters,"  he  said,  "  if  you  like — they  paint 
at  home ;  for  writers — they  write  at  home ;  for  musicians— 
they  compose  at  home.  But  the  actor  acts  in  the  sight  of 
the  audience — he  wants  a  fair  field  and  no  favour — he  acts 
among  his  colleagues,  without  whom  he  is  powerless ;  and  to 
give  him  any  distinction  in  the  play-bill  which  others  would 
not  enjoy  would  be  prejudicial  to  his  success,  and  fatal,  I 
believe,  to  his  popularity."  The  American  actor,  Lawrence 
Barrett,  who  was  present  on  this  interesting  occasion,  paid  an 
eloquent  tribute  to  Irving,  and  prophesied  for  him  "a  grand 
welcome  in  America,  where  every  actor,  great  and  small,  is 
proud  of  him.  At  his  landing  he  will  be  greeted  with  warm 
clasps  of  the  hands,  and  every  actor  will  feel  that  a  part  of 
his  glory  is  shared  with  the  brothers  of  his  craft — that  each  will 
share  in  his  triumph  and  take  a  leaf  from  his  chaplet  of  laurel." 

The  six  weeks  before  Irving  sailed  for  America  were  days 
and  nights  of  hard  work.  Not  only  were  there  constant 
changes  of  programme1  during  the  fortnight  in  each  of  the 

1  "  Hamlet,"  "  The  Merchant  of  Venice,"  "  Charles  the  First,"  "  Eugene 
Aram,"  "  The  Belle's  Stratagem,"  "The  Cup,"  " The  Bells,"  "Louis  XI." 
and  "  Othello  "  (with  J.  B.  Howard  as  the  Moor)  were  represented. 


376     THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  XXL 

big  towns  which  he  visited — Glasgow,  Edinburgh,  and 
Liverpool — but  farewell  banquets  were  the  order  of  the  day 
and  night.  The  Glasgow  Pen  and  Pencil  Club  entertained 
him  on  6th  September.  In  Edinburgh,  he  had  a  most  arduous, 
yet  a  joyous,  time.  On  Monday,  loth  September,  he  opened 
the  new  theatre  called,  in  compliment  to  him,  the  Lyceum, 
with  a  representation  of  "  Much  Ado  About  Nothing".  On 
the  2Oth  of  that  month,  a  supper  was  given  to  him,  in  the 


"  WESTWARD  Ho !  " 

DESIGN  FROM  THE  MENU  CARD  OF  THE  "  SPECIAL  MEETING  IN  COMPLIMENT  TO  MR. 
HENRY  IRVING"  OF  THE  EDINBURGH  PEN  AND  PENCIL  CLUB,  THURSDAY,  ZOTH 
SEPTEMBER,  1883. 

Freemasons'  Hall,  by  the  Edinburgh  Pen  and  Pencil  Club. 
About  one  hundred  and  seventy  gentlemen,  connected  with 
literature  and  art,  were  presided  over  by  Dr.  Pryde,  LL.D. 
—the  Principal  of  the  Edinburgh  Ladies'  College,  who  ob- 
served with  truth  that  Irving's  tour  was  a  triumphal  pro- 
cession. In  replying  to  the  toast  of  his  health  and  prosperity, 
Irving  once  more  insisted  on  the  dignity  of  the  stage.  "  I 
look  upon  this  gathering  to-night,"  he  began,  "  as  a  recognition 
that  you  acknowledge  the  stage  as  an  institution  of  intellectual 


1883]  SAILS  FOR  AMERICA  377 

delight — a  place  of  recreation  for  intelligent  people.  I  am 
proud  of  being  an  actor — and  I  am  proud  of  my  art."  He 
then  defended  himself  for  the  position  which  he  had  taken  in 
regard  to  the  interpretation  of  Shakespeare.  "As  I  would 
be  natural  in  the  representation  of  character,  so  I  would  be 
truthful  in  the  mounting  of  plays.  My  object  in  this  is  to  do 
all  in  my  power  to  heighten,  and  not  distract,  the  imagination 
—to  produce  a  play  in  harmony  with  the  poet's  ideas,  and  to 
give  all  the  picturesque  effect  that  the  poet's  text  will  justify." 
He  concluded  with  a  charming  allusion  to  his  early  days  in 
Edinburgh  some  twenty-four  years  earlier.  "  I  have  told 
you  so  often — and  you  must  be  tired  of  hearing  it — that 
Edinburgh  was  my  alma  mater ;  and  when  I  think  of  my 
dreams  here,  some  of  which  have  not  been  wholly  unrealised, 
and  when  I  recall  the  friendships  I  formed  here,  some  of 
which  have  never  faltered,  and  of  the  friends  I  have  lost  only 
through  the  too  swift  embrace  of  the  fell  serpent,  death — you 
will  know  how  dear  to  me  is  your  noble  city." 

His  memory,  indeed,  was  crowded  with  those  early  recol- 
lections when  he  was  on  the  eve  of  quitting  his  native  land. 
On  Saturday,  6th  October,  he  gave  his  last  performance  of  this 
triumphant  season  at  the  Alexandra  Theatre,  Liverpool,  in  the 
character  of  Louis  XL,  and,  on  the  nth,  sailed  from  that  port 
on  board  the  White  Star  steamer,  Britannic.  In  the  in- 
terim between  the  close  of  his  Liverpool  engagement  and 
his  sailing  for  America  he  paid  a  flying  visit  to  London. 
Returning  to  the  north,  he  renewed  his  friendly  intercourse 
with  Mr.  Gladstone  at  a  luncheon  party  given  by  the  Earl 
of  Derby  at  Knowsley.  On  the  morning  of  his  departure 
for  the  United  States,  he  gave  a  breakfast  to  the  directors 
of  the  Royal  General  Theatrical  Fund,  who  paid  a  special 
visit  to  Liverpool  in  order  to  wish  uGod  speed"  to  Irving, 
who,  with  Mr.  Alfred  de  Rothschild  and  J.  L.  Toole,  was 
a  trustee  of  the  Fund.  This  volume  may  well  close  with  his 
speech  on  the  last  night  of  his  engagement  in  Liverpool.  He 
was  ever  grateful  to  Liverpool  play -goers  and  to  Liverpool 
writers.  And  he  never  failed  to  express  his  remembrance 


378     THE   LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  XXL 

and  his  regard.  "It  is  my  privilege,"  he  said  on  this  oc- 
casion, "to  thank  the  Liverpool  public  for  the  sympathy  and 
goodwill  which  they  have  lavished  upon  us,  and  which  have 
been  the  climax  of  the  favour  we  have  received  during  our 
present  short  tour.  I  am  afraid  all  that  you  could  do  to 
spoil  us  you  have  done ;  but  I  hope  that  we  have  worked 
none  the  less  earnestly  on  that  account,  and  I  hope  that  when 
our  American  cousins  discover  our  many  failings  they  will 
lay  but  little  blame  on  the  good  nature  of  the  British  public. 


BRITANNIA  MOURNING  THE  Loss  OF  HENRY  IRVING. 

From  Liverpool  we  start  on  our  expedition,  and  when  from 
America  we  return,  at  Liverpool  we  land  again.  But  it  is  not 
simply  as  a  starting  and  landing  place  that  we  shall  remember 
your  city.  I  have  many  memories  of  Liverpool.  One  of 
them  is  of  a  time,  eighteen  years  ago,  when  I  stood  upon  the 
stage  of  the  Prince  of  Wales's  Theatre  without  an  engagement, 
and  wondered  what  on  earth  I  should  do  next.  Fortunately, 
I  have  been  able  to  do  something ;  but  I  shall  never  forget 
that  the  Liverpool  Press  gave  me  the  warmest  encouragement 


IRVING  AS  Louis  XI. 

From  the  drawing  by  Fred.  Barnard, 


38o     THE  LIFE  OF  HENRY  IRVING     [CHAP.  XXL 

at  a  time  that  was  a  critical  part  of  my  career.  I  have  another 
memory  which  comes  vividly  to  me  as  I  stand  upon  these 
boards.  I  am  thinking  of  my  old  comrade,  Edward  Saker, 
who  was  honoured  and  loved  by  all  who  knew  him  (loud 
applause).  On  what  his  skill  and  enterprise  did  for  the  Liver- 
pool stage,  I  need  not  dwell.  You  could  tell  the  story  better 
than  I  could.  But  I  may  at  least  be  permitted  to  say  that 
the  tradition  of  sound  and  able  management  which  he  estab- 
lished here  is  most  worthily  sustained  by  the  lady  who  was 
for  many  years  the  partner  of  his  public  success  as  well  as  of 
his  home  life.  I  rejoice  that  she  is  able  to  so  courageously 
follow  in  his  wake,  and  that  she  is  surrounded  by  a  staff  as 
loyal  as  it  is  efficient.  Once  more  I  thank  you  on  behalf  of 
one  and  all  of  us,  and  on  behalf  of  Miss  Ellen  Terry,  whose  in- 
debtedness to  you  is  equal  to  my  own.  Like  Sir  Peter  Teazle, 
we  leave  our  characters  behind  us,  but  we  are  more  confident 
than  Sir  Peter  that  they  will  be  well  taken  care  of;  and  so, 
with  full  hearts  and  big  hopes,  we  wish  you  a  respectful  and 
affectionate  farewell." 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  TO  THE  END  OF  1883. 

1875.  Irving  as  Hamlet.     By  Edward  R.  Russell.     8vo,  is.     London. 

1875.  Macbeth   at  the   Lyceum.     Mr.    Irving  and   his  Critics.     By  two 
amateurs.     A   defence   of  Irving's   view   of  Macbeth.       8vo,    is. 
London. 

1876.  Sheridan    Knowles'  Conception   and  Mr.   Irving's  Performance  of 

Macbeth.     London. 

1877.  Richard  III.  and  Macbeth  :  the  Spirit  of  Romantic  Play  in  relationship 

to  the  principles  of  Greek  and  of  Gothic  art,  and  to  the  picturesque 

interpretations  of  Mr.  Henry  Irving  :  a  Dramatic  Study.     By  T.  H. 

Hall  Caine.     8vo,  6d.     London  and  Liverpool. 
1877.  The  Fashionable  Tragedian:   a  Criticism.     With  ten  illustrations. 

1 2  mo,  6d.     Edinburgh. 
1877.  Second  edition,  with  postscript.     By  William  Archer  and  Robert  W. 

Lowe.     Illustrated  by  G.  R.  Halkett.    Issued  anonymously.     i2mo, 

6d.     London. 

1877.  A  letter  concerning  Mr.  Henry  Irving  addressed  to  E.  R.  H.     A 

reply  to  the  Fashionable  Tragedian.     8vo,  4d.     Edinburgh. 

1878.  The  Stage.     Address  delivered  by  Mr.  Henry  Irving  at  the  Perry 

Bar  Institute,  near  Birmingham,   on  6th  March,   1878.     8vo,  6d. 
London. 

1878.  Notes  on  Louis  XI.  With  some  short  extracts  from  Comines' 
Memoirs.  By  A.  E.  4to.  Privately  printed.  London. 

1 88 1.  The  Stage  as  It  Is.  A  Lecture,  by  Henry  Irving,  delivered  at  the 
Sessional  opening  of  the  Edinburgh  Philosophical  Institution,  8th 
November,  1881.  8vo,  is.  London. 

1883.  Talma  on  the  Actor's  Art.  With  Preface  by  Henry  Irving.  8vo,  is. 
London. 

1883.  The  Paradox  of  Acting.  Translated  by  Walter  Henries  Pollock. 
With  a  preface  by  Henry  Irving.  London. 

1883.  The  Henry  Irving  Birthday  Book.  Composed  of  quotations  from 
some  of  the  characters  which  Mr.  Irving  has  acted,  etc.  By  Viola 
Stirling.  London. 

1883.  Henry  Irving,  Actor  and  Manager.  A  Critical  Study.  An  essay  of 
some  fifteen  thousand  words.  By  William  Archer.  i6mo,  is. 
London. 

1883.  Henry  Irving,  Actor  and  Manager.  A  "Criticism  of  a  critic's  criti- 
cism ".  By  an  Irvingite.  (By  Frank  Marshall,  in  answer  to  William 
Archer's  Critical  Study.)  8vo.  London. 

1883.  Henry  Irving.  A  Short  Account  of  his  Public  Life.  With  4  illustra- 
tions. A  small  book  of  200  pages,  compiled  from  different  English 
newspapers,  and  in  a  friendly  spirit.  The  preface  is  dated  August, 
1883.  New  York. 

1883.  Henry  Irving,  a  Biographical  Sketch.  By  Austin  Brereton.  Illus- 
trated with  seventeen  full-page  portraits.  Large  8vo,  ics.  6d. 
Large  paper,  ^4  43.  London  and  New  York. 

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