Full text of "The Life Of William Terriss Actor"

See other formats

The Life of
William Terriss

THE LIFE OF
WILLIAM TERRISS

Actor

BY ARTHUR J. SMYTHE

WITH AN INTRODUCTION

BY CLEMENT SCOTT

WESTMINSTER

ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE & CO

2 WHITEHALL GARDENS

1898

PROPERTY O*

CARNEGIE INSTITUTE OF 0011101011

WILLIAM TERRISS

"KING HENRY Vlll ."

BUTLER TANNER,

THE SELWOOD PRINTING WORKS,

FROME, AND LONDON.

Table of Contents

PAGE

An Appreciation ix

Chapter I

EARLY DAYS I

Chapter II

ON AND OFF THE STAGE 27

Chapter III

AT LEXINGTON, KENTUCKY 47

Chapter IV

TO ONE THING CONSTANT 56

Chapter V

HIS LAST ENGAGEMENTS 124

Chapter VI

HOME LIFE AND CHARACTER 154

Chapter VII

HIS DEATH AND BURIAL 178

Chapter VIII

BREEZY BILL 193

List of Illustrations

William Terriss as King Henry VIII . Frontispiece

An Early Photograph . . . . . . . 3

The School, Littlehampton, 1858 7

At Sea 13

One of his First Public Appearances . . . .29

At the age of 22 33

At the age of 26 57

"Romeo" in Romeo and Juliet 61

"Squire Thornhill" in Olivia 65

" Mercutio " in Romeo and Juliet . . . . .71
"Don Pedro" in Much Ado About Nothing . . 75

"Earl of Moray" in Charles I 77

"Squire Thornhill" in Olivia 85

" David Kingsley " in The Harbour Lights ... 89
"Frank Beresford" in The Bells of Haselmere . . 93
" Jack Medway " in The Union Jack . . . - 95
A Souvenir ......... 98

An American Playbill 99

" Hayston of Bucklaw " in Ravenswood . . . .103
"Claudio" in Much Ado About Nothing . . .105

" Henry IL" in Becket 109

"Don Pedro" in Much Ado About Nothing . . .115
The Girl 1 left Behind me 125

viii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

"Lieut. Keppell" in One of the Best .

" Lieut. Dudley Keppell " in One of the Best .

"Lieut. Dudley Keppell" in One of the Best .

" Gerald Austin " in Boys Together ....

A Voice from the Past

"Gerald Austin" in Boys Together ....
"Comte de Candale" in A Marriage of Convenience

In the Days of the Duke

" The Cottage," Bedford Park

Mrs. Terriss

Terriss's Youngest Son

The Late Mrs. G. H. Lewin

The late George Herbert Lewin, Barrister-at-Law .

William Terriss

At 30 .

AN APPRECIATION
BY CLEMENT SCOTT

A FTER a roving, adventurous life, here, there,
^ ** and everywhere, now on board some trad-
ing vessel bound for the far east, now exploring
the Falkland Islands of all places in the world,
William Terriss, the best and most loyal friend
man ever had, found himself eventually on the
boards of a London theatre, determined, if pos-
sible, to distinguish himself as an. actor. His
early career, which combined the frank reckless-
ness of the sailor with its breezy good nature,
which he retained to the last, with the daring of
the impulsive discoverer, will be recorded else-
where. He was fond of relating one pathetic tale,
which proves how sudden and quick were his im-
pulses. He was the owner of a small cottage in
a pleasant London suburb, and suddenly resolved
to be off and away on one of his harum-scarum
expeditions. His mind once made up, the pro-

AN APPRECIATION

ject was instantly carried into execution. Break-
fast over one morning, he promptly packed up
his traps, sick to death of the confinement of
London life and its want of freedom. He left
the place just as it was, closed the shutters,
locked the door, and gave the key of the tenant-
less house to a neighbour. In due time the
wanderer returned again, opened the cottage door,
found the breakfast things just as he had left
them, but on the now soiled tablecloth a skele-
ton ! A skeleton of what ? Well, the skeleton
of a poor hungry cat, that he had accidentally
locked into the empty house when he went away.
The wretched creature had lapped up the last
drop of milk and then lay down to die of starva-
tion. It was said that my old friend was an
unemotional man, but he never told this story
without the tears coming to his eyes ; for, like
all good and brave fellows, he was passionately
fond of animals.

But to return to the theatre. It was in 1868
that I first saw young Terriss on the stage, in
the very small part of " Lord Cloudwrays" in

AN APPRECIATION

Robertson's Society, but the character was in-
significant, and it was no test of his power. But
at the opening of Drury Lane Theatre, on Sep-
tember 2ist, 1872, I saw and appreciated on the
other side of the footlights a young actor who
was destined to become one of the most deser-
vedly popular artists of my time. The play was
Sir Walter Scott's Lady of the Lake, dramatized
by Andrew Halliday. E. L. Blanchard briefly
records of this production: " Beverley scenery very
good ; the rest very bad." In the cast were
Harry Sinclair (" Roderick Dhu"), James Fer-
nandez ("Fitzjames"), Maria B. Jones (" Helen "),
Mrs. Aynsley Cooke ("Lady Margaret"), J. Dew-
hurst (" Douglas "), Rosenthal ("Brian the Seer"),
and "Malcolm" William Terriss.

I was at that time writing for The Observer
as well as in the Daily Telegraph. I find the
following words recorded in the former paper in
connection with the first important performance of
Terriss, and they are interesting as showing that
even then, six and twenty years ago, one of my
favourite hobbies was stage elocution. Having

AN APPRECIATION

described the play and the mounting of it, ]
said :

"It would be ungracious to pick the acting tc
pieces, because all the artists had such scant
opportunity of exhibiting their talent. They were,
from first to last, subordinate to and hard pressed
by the scene-painter, the carpenter, and the cos-
tumier. But fresh and pleasant, active and intel-
ligent, enthusiastic and natural, stood out among
all the rest the * Malcolm Graeme' of Mr. W.
Terriss, a young actor, who has now made a very
fair start, and will, no doubt, do uncommonly
well. The contrast between the natural and
manly declamation of this young actor and the
old-fashioned stilted style of some of his fellows
was very striking, and it is really pleasant to
find any one determined to speak as ordinary
people speak, on the boards of a theatre,
wherein strange tones and emphasis prevail."

Poor Terriss has often told me that it was
this criticism and this first praise that settled
his vocation in life. He never forgot it He
never ceased to be grateful for it, and when in

xii

AN APPRECIATION

course of time we met outside the walls of a
theatre in those delightful Bohemian days, we
formed a firm friendship that was never broken
for a single hour. It has recently been said,
with some emphasis, that this example is by
no means exceptional, that actors and actresses
never forget kindnesses done to them, always
treasure the memory of the helping hand, and
forget the awkward and occasional blame when
contrasted with the almost continuous praise. I
regret to say that has not been my experience
after a career of forty years. I say emphatically
that the attitude of a frank, outspoken, fearless
man like Terriss was extremely exceptional in
fact, quite unique in my experience. The
critic, however enthusiastic when he can con-
scientiously praise, must at odd and rare times
be the natural enemy of the able, conscientious,
and disappointed actor. But in no other career,
untarnished by egotism and vanity, is there so
much treachery. To our face we are angels ;
behind our back, devils. We are offered the
loving cup, and as we drink the dagger ; and
it is the assassin who dies.

xiii b

AN APPRECIATION

During his theatrical adventures, I did not
always agree with the methods of my friend,
particularly in a character that either did not
suit him or which I had seen better performed
by others. One cannot obliterate memories.
I had seen both Alfred Wigan and Walter
Lacy as u Chateau Renaud," in the Cwsuan
Brothers, and I thought ami said that they
were both more convincing 1 to me than Terriss.
No doubt he did not like it at the time*. But
he did not go into a corner and sulk, and tear
his hair and swear or curse me by all his gods
as others have been apt to do. A difference
of opinion in court made, no ''kink' 1 in our
friendship. The case over, however murh as
we differed, we could go along the Strand
arm-in-arm, as opposing harristrr.s ami others
continually do. The "Chateau Renaml " at the
Lyceum was no doubt a bitter draught to
swallow, but this genuine, manly fellow never
forgot my appreciation of ** Malcolm Graeme."
I heard afterwards of his disappointment, his bitter
grief, when the " Chateau Renaud " was end-

xiv

AN APPRECIATION

cally treated. He had said, "This will be the
success of my life!" But it was not. He
treated the comparative difficulty with philosophy.
He did not go into the nearest club, curse his
critic, and make a fool of himself. I never
met a man in any class of life who in every
action showed such thorough contempt for
toadying or backbiting, and the terrible artistic
habit of saying one thing to your face and
another behind your back was unknown to him.
He stood no nonsense from anybody, and that
was why he was respected and loved by the
majority of men and women. He recognised
that courtesy and discipline are requisite in
every theatre. He would show the one and
regard the other. But he would stand no non-
sense from the highest actor or the greatest
person in the land. Had Terriss been old
enough to act with Macready, and there hap-
pened to be any difference of opinion between
them, I don't think the younger actor would
have come off second best. In society, at
country houses, even at a very ceremonial court,

AN A1TRKCIATION

this popular and during Jellmv soon estnblis'
his independence and power. His attitude:
received with a stare of astonishment at i',
but as there was no impudence in it. hut n:
dare-devilry, the Terriss manner soon won
him the very wannest friendships in every c
of society.

The one day of the year that was especi,
dear to this young-hearted and en^a^in^ 1 creai
was in the glow of summer time when the 1 h
Lane Fund gave its annual outing. 1 have o:
been privileged to be the guest of William Trr
on these occasions, and no matter when* we \\
or found ourselves, in the buttercup fields ro:
Stoke Poges Church, on the river on a lau
going upwards from Maidenhead to Henley,
at dinner afterwards at Skindles, or at the Gi
hound at Richmond, Terriss was always the
and soul of the party, and we, had some* bri
and merry times when Charles Warner, Jai
Fernandez, and our old friend wen: prime offn
of this distinguished gathering. It was at
of these yearly festivals that old Benjamin Web

xvi

AN APPRECIATION

Dok the chair at the Sunday Richmond dinner.
iis age was great, his memory failing a little,
nd his once powerful mind occasionally wandering,

remember well how, to the astonishment of us
11, the grand old man stood up, raising his wine.
lass with a feeble, faltering hand, and said : " The
Cing! God Bless Him!" lie imagined he was
ving in another age and in another reign.

The next year, as we. were driving Kennington
ray one lovely Sunday morning in the summer
!me, Terriss, in his genial fashion, proposed that
rt should all stop and pay our respects to the
enerable Master of the Fund, who was fading
lowly away. Benjamin Webster lived and had
,one so for years in an old-fashioned house in
secluded garden at the back of Kennington
Church. There we found him sitting with a little!
hild ou his knee -his last born. By a curious
oincidence the veteran comedian was sitting under

picture of himself when a child on his mother's
:nee. The two children might have been painted
rom the same model Whilst they went all shak-
ig hands with and congratulating the tl Master, 1 '

xv i i

AN APPRECIATION

Terriss nudged me and proposed an explorati<
into the old garden. A curious sight present
itself. The grass and herbage came up to o
knees, the trees were tangled and twisted togethe
reminding us of the wood where "Sleepi:
Beauty " rested when discovered by her lover, a:
in an out-house we found an old-fashioned carria:
that had probably not been used for years. T.
mud was still on the wheels caused by sor
forgotten journey from the old Hay market
Webster's Adelphi.

William Terriss was a popular actor in eve
sense of the word. He was beloved by you
and old alike. In his thoroughly English meth
there was perhaps not much subtlety or insig
into the lights and shades of character ; in ]
honest sentiment, displayed so often in melodran
the pathos and heart throbs may occasiona
have been considered superficial, but he broug
on to the stage a buoyant individuality, a joyc
manner, the essential spirit of good nature,
handsome face, a light active figure, and a resons
voice that could be heard in every corner of t

xviii

AN APPRECIATION

largest theatre. Such a voice is a temptation to
any actor, for he loves to hear it echo around
the theatre and to feel its influence. I somehow
think that the finest thing he did in his career
was his " Squire Thornhill," in the Olivia of
W. G. Wills. He might have walked out of the
text of the Vicar of Wakefield, handsome, reck-
less, cruel, cynical, assertive, the very man that
an Olivia would have loved, for it is one of the
privileges or eccentricities of good women to fall
in love with dare-devil, handsome, unscrupulous
men. Some women, like the Irishman's car
horse, " love to be oppressed/' His " William "
in Black-Eyed Susan was a wonderful perform-
ance for a man of his age. He danced the
hornpipe like a lad of eighteen. But his soul
hankered after serious parts in solemn plays. I
was partly responsible for providing him with
such a character in The Swordsman s Da^lghter..
In it there were fine moments for Terriss. But
the public refused to accept their favourite as an
old man, and shuddered at the thought that this
bright fellow should be paralysed even in a play.

xix

AN APPRECIATION

They wanted him as he was, ever young, and did
not care to see a line on his handsome, expres-
sive face or a grey hair in his shapely head. He
was indeed a bitter loss to the English stage,
and at present he has no successor.

Of the cruel and dastard blow that with such
awful suddenness deprived my dear and faithful
friend of life, I forbear to speak. I had seen him
but a short time before in his dressing-room at
the Adelphi, where we had many a confidential
chat between the acts, or when his favourite
dresser was rubbing him down after the hard
work was over. He looked like some splendid
young athlete, with not one superfluous ounce of
flesh about him, and with a fair, smooth skin like
satin. A more symmetrical man for his age I
have never seen. And he was doomed to depart
before his oldest friend. I was in Paris in great
trouble when I heard the news. The shock I
felt then, I have not recovered to this hour.
And I lost my friend at the very moment when
I could have counted on his brave and loyal
championship to counteract much that was mean,

AN APPRECIATION

ungrateful yes, and unmanly too. All that was
opposed to the temperament of William Terriss
the actor and gentleman ! Terriss was not the
honest fellow in an instant to turn friendship into
loathing and contempt. He certainly would have
been the last man in the world to countenance
the strange acts of some of his vainglorious com-
panions. But, although we were to have gone
down into the country together a few days
after what proved to be the fatal one for him, we
were destined never to meet again. Lightly rest
the turf above him !

A few of the letters written to me in the days
of our early friendship, and some of the very
last he ever penned to me, may be of interest
to all who admired his outspoken candour, his
honest friendship, and his splendid manly nature.
Some of these will show how, in a mysterious
manner, the knowledge of death sudden or
otherwise was ever present to him. No end of
a year, no anniversary ever came to me without
some affectionate greeting from this staunch and
loyal friend. God rest his soul !

xxi

AN APPRECIATION

HAY.MARKKT TUKATKK, \V.
DEAR SCOTT,

You ask me, have I //*v/*/*'</y////r ? I regret to say
it does not rest in my /V^rr to decide ;tt all. Otherwise
you know the best of my inclinations only ton we'll, I
went to see Clarke ai^ain on receipt of your letter, and
the only answer I can <jet from him is that "he can
give me no decided answer either aye or i\>\\\ as he
will most likely want me, etc.' 4

Pm afraid that you must look upon my coming as a
hope forlorn. You know how I must regret it ?

I think I shall finally decide to 1*0 to " Wai lacks " in
the autumn, unless you will take the trouble to i*ct me
to the " Prince of Wales."

My part in the Crisis, as you say, Is so va;ue and
undefined that I can do nothing for It or with It.

Wishing you and yours a merry Xmus and many of
them,

.Believe me, yours always,

W. Ttfkuiss.

Please send me a cartc-de-visite of yourself, If you xvill

spare one. I should much esteem the favour,

'HI TllKATHK.

[A fiw months //;/*' w ///> //*v;/^.'j
MY DEAR CLEM,

Will you kindly write on this picture something more
than your autograph, so that my children may, when I

xxii

AN APPRECIATION

id you are gone, know the many years the poor actor
id great critic were ever friends, 1870 to 1897.

To me last night your not coming was a bitter dis-
ppointment. I personally care not a "curse" for the
pinions of any one but yourself, good or bad, and
our absence was a great loss to the whole thing as
tr as acting was concerned.

I do not alter my opinion one iota about the play as

work of dramatic interest it's the " poorest ..." all
>und I have ever heard, and it ... The piece is
sautifully dressed and mounted, but the stuffing is bad
id ... You'll judge for yourself some day, and bear
le same opinion as I do.

I am sorry seeing about your good wife's father. I
3pe it's nothing serious. Commend me to her and all

Dod wishes,

Always sincerely yours,

WILL.
I'll., send for the picture to-morrow night.

LYCEUM THEATRE,

April 15, 1894.

It is useless, dear Scott, my ever writing to thank you

>r your kindly thoughts, which you always express to-

ards me in my work in the Telegraph, but it pleases me

) do so. Again, thanks ; I appreciate it.

We are travelling along the road of life together, and

is a ray of sunshine to know one has always a well-

AN APPRECIATION

wisher and a friend. Life is not like a game of pool, for
we can't star one, yet in my transient theatrical career I
am ever glad that I merit your good opinion.

All good wishes.

Sincerely yours,

WILL TERRISS.

LYCEUM THEATRE,

June 14, 1893.
MY DEAR OLD FRIEND,

I send you a few lines to welcome you home again, and
with the sincere wish that your future and your wife's will
be one unalloyed pleasure and happiness.

I send herewith a "Theatre Magazine," where in an
interview with me you will see I refer to the fact that
you were the cause of my being an actor. It may
interest you. God bless you !

WILL TERRISS.

LYCEUM THEATRE,

December 31, 1890.

Life is a railroad with many stations and a terminus.
We have travelled a long way together, and may it be
our good fortune to travel together a long way yet But
I pause for a moment on the threshold of a New Year
to send you Greeting and sincere wishes for a happy and
prosperous time in 1891.

WILL TERRISS.

xxiv

AN APPRECIATION

ADELPHI THEATRE.

Why, certainly, dear Clem. Thursday supper, I shall
i with you. With you and Johnnie it is indeed Old
imes, Old Friends, and I trust till the curtain rings down.

WILL.
October 21, 1896.

27, GREAT QUEEN STREET, W.C.,

October 14, 1882.
!Y DEAR SCOTT,

To me it is always a double pleasure to acknowledge
our very kind notices of my performances. For this
sason that I have received your praise and likewise
our condemnation. I have always felt that your criti-
isms are just ; and whether you praise or condemn me
bow to your decision, because I respect your ability,
.nd have always firmly believed in practical as well as
heoretical knowledge, which you so undoubtedly possess
vith regard to all things appertaining to our profession.

I have noticed, however, that I have always received
it your hands the minimum of condemnation and the
naximum of praise ; and it Is really to me, when I
lave been fortunate enough to please you, a sincere
pleasure to read your very kind remarks on my poor
ability, but it is a far greater pleasure to find myself year
after year penning you my heartiest and warmest thanks
for your kind and generous praise.

It would be absurd for me to simply thank you in

XXV

AN APPRECIATION

words only, without they came from the heart; and I
can assure you in this, as in every other instance when
I have written to you, they have done so.

Thus respect for your criticisms gradually has given
way to regard to the being, and I sincerely hope that
I may long be numbered amongst those who can grasp
you by the hand, and may lay claim to that word
"friend" in all its true meaning.

Believe me, dear Scott,

Yours most sincerely,

WILLIAM TERRISS.

ADELPHI THEATRE.
MY DEAR OLD SCOTT,

If I owe much of my success to my own earnest
endeavours, I owe still more to the ever-generous and
loving support you have ever tendered me. Words do not
convey the gratitude I feel for the favours you have ever
conferred on me since my earliest efforts, fifteen years
ago.

I am deeply sensitive of your generous sympathy and
encouragement, and have much to thank you for. Perhaps
the day may yet corne when I may repay you. I hope
it will

A Happy Christmas to you and yours, and every
blessing.

WILL TERRISS.
xxvi

AN APPRECIATION

ADELPHI THEATRE,

December 31, 1894.

Only a grasp of the hand, old friend, and happy to
enow, as year passes year, that your kindly feeling is un-
iiminished. May you and (I now add) your charming
Adfe enjoy, in the year which dawns this morn, every
lappiness, and health and prosperity. Such is the wish
}f your friend,

WILL TERRISS.

ST. MILDREDS HOTEL,

WESTGATE-ON-SEA,

KENT.

July 23, 1894.
MY DEAR OLD FRIEND,

I thought it would be interesting news for you that
nay girl Ellaline will sustain the part of " Elaine " when
King Arthur is produced at the Lyceum Theatre at Xmas,
Mr. Irving having specially engaged her so a member
3f the name of Terriss will still be associated at the
liistoric Lyceum.

I hope ere many weeks elapse to see your face across
the footlights at the Old AdelphL With regards and
compliments to Mrs. Scott,

Believe me, sincerely yours,

WILL TERRISS.

I am staying down here for three weeks. Need I say
how delightful it is once more to breathe the ozone for

xxvii

AN APPRECIATION

why should life all labour be ? Time onward driveth fast,
and in a little time our lips are dumb.
Let us alone I

But, alas! that is just what Fate would not allow.
Let us alone! They never will, for our trusted
friends become our enemies and the best of men
falls to a dastard, and so-called murderous knife.
The hand that we have clasped in friendship, and
into which money has been poured in abundance,
takes up the butcher s knife and slays ! It was
the experience of William Terriss, and it is
that of all who have studied the bitter life into
which such generous creatures are flung and
killed !

XXVlll

CHAPTER I
EARLY DAYS

"M-IERE is an old saw whose specious ring of
truth has furnished it with a certain amount of
lity, which states that " the boy is father to the
i "; yet if any proof were needed to show how
rustworthy these same old saws sometimes are,
better could be found than that provided by
early life of the subject of this memoir, an early
that gave little or no promise of its possessor
r attaining the honourable and well-deserved
ition he subsequently held among the histrionic
sis of the closing years of the century. And yet
spirit of wandering, the love of change and
:itement, and the constant seeking after some-
ng new, were but the means working to the end ;
ce few there are who will not admit that travel,
perience, a deep insight into human nature both

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

good and ill, gained in many quarters of the globe,
accompanied by a due share of adventures, are a
splendid stock in trade for one called upon to
portray in his own person the attributes, the
characteristics, the manners, and the idiosyncrasies
of a hundred diverse personages, either culled
from the pages of history or mere creations of the
writer's brain.

William Charles James Lewin was born at 7,
Circus Road, St. John's Wood, on 2Oth February,
1847. His father, George Herbert Lewin, though
called to the Bar and having chambers in Pall Mall,
practised but little, and died when his third son,
William, was ten years old. His grandfather,
Thomas Lewin, was private secretary to Warren
Hastings in Calcutta, and he was by family ties
connected with George Grote, the eminent historian
of Greece. Thus it would appear that there was
no lack of brains in the family ; and though this
particular feature was not exemplified in the early
years of the future actor, yet in his case they were
undoubtedly present, it may be lying dormant and
maturing, until he discovered his real vocation in

AN EARLY PHOTOGRAPH

EARLY DAYS

life, when they asserted themselves, and enabled
him to win the position he subsequently enjoyed.

The life of William Terriss (or as we shall
continue to call him, for the present, William Lewin)
commences, for the public, with his entry on the
stage ; but it may not be without interest to glance
briefly at the years preceding this, and learn some-
thing of his doings, wanderings, and adventures
which so eminently aided him in the career he
subsequently adopted.

His early years were passed at St. John's Wood,
Lewisham, and Clapham, and at seven years of age
he was a Blue Coat boy, migrating two years later
to a school at Littlehampton. It was from this
establishment that he wrote to his elder brother,
Dr. Friend Lewin, one of the very few early
letters of his that remain.

" LlTTLKIIAMPTON,

"Sept. 29/4 1857.
"DEAR FRIEND,

" I hope you are quite well. I received your
letter quite safe. Will you send me a Picture of
your Collage, because I want to show it to the boys.

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

Hopeing that you will receive my letter. I am verry
happy. I have lots of stamps, so i can wright to
you. I have sent you a shilling. I hope you will
have it quite safe with my best love. And belive

me your affectionate Brother

" WILLE."

The writing is decidedly good for a boy of ten,
and beyond a slip or two in the spelling there is
nothing to find fault with, while the gift of the
shilling a large sum to a lad of his age shows
an affectionate kindly feeling towards his brother,
and marks a trait in his character which was ever
present throughout his life quiet generosity.

From Littlehampton, he went to Windermere
College, then presided over by a Mr. Puckle, a relation
of the Lewins. Here his brother Friend, known to
his intimates as Bob, and two cousins were among
his schoolfellows, and here it was that he engaged in
his first regular fight, which might be described as
quite a family affair, since the antagonists were the
cousins William and Mortimer, with their respective
brothers Friend and Lionel as seconds. The scene
of the encounter was a space behind some bushes at

EARLY DAYS

the far end of the playground, and the fight was
carried out with all due formalities. Round after
round was contested, and it was only when it
became apparent that neither could gain any
material advantage that the seconds interfered, and
brought the contest to a close ; and, as is usually
the case in school fights, the combatants were the
best of friends ever afterwards.

A second letter of young Lewin's exists, and, as
will be seen, it was written when at this school. It
bears no date, but being addressed to the same
brother as the previous one after he had left the
establishment, it must have been a year or two
later than the first one. The handwriting is more
formed, and the spelling is correct. It is a true
schoolboy's letter.

" WlNDERMERE COLLEGE,

" WESTMORLAND.
" MR DEAR FRIEND,

" We have begun cricket, and I am in the fifth
eleven. I have a good lot of marbles, and and I
have got a nice little flask. I don't think I told you
that I had a fight with Farie, a new fellow, about

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

as big as Rushton, and Jip Gibson was m}
second ; and I think I fought very well, consider
ing you were not there. Jump (his cousin Lionel
and Morty backed me, and I nearly got my heac
broken. I wish you had been there. I am getting
on pretty well, and how are you ? Is your tutoi
a good one?
" Love to all.

" And believe me,

" My dear brother,

"Your affectionate Brother,

" WILLIE.
" Write soon."

From Windermere Lewin went to Bruce Castl<
School, Tottenham, an establishment which ha
turned out a number of well-known public men
and his education finished by his running away
on getting into some boyish scrape, in which th
arm of one of his fellow-scholars was broken, an<
appearing in the evening at the house of his life
long friend, Mr. Graves, in Bayswater.

School days having ended, it now became

EARLY DAYS

question what profession he should adopt ; and the
mercantile marine having been decided on, a brrth
as midshipman was obtained for him on one- <i
Messrs. Green & Co.'s ships. An idea has got
about that he was at one time in the Royal N;ivy,
but this was not so. It probably arose, from thr
fact that for a fortnight before he sailed he usnl
to parade Bayswater in the* glory of his nr\v
middy's uniform. His relations went down in
Gravesend to see him off, and the next new; his
mother received of him, as she was congratulating
herself that her somewhat erratic and wayward boy
was safely under strict discipline for a timr, \v,ts ,i
telegram from Plymouth, saying lie hail IHi his
ship, as seafaring life did not suit him, Th* rr.il
facts of the case wen: that, after beating down
Channel for a fortnight, lie had heroine tirrd of
the monotony, and when the: ship anchored for the-
night in Plymouth harbour, he had managed to
come to terms with a boatman, who, undrr mvrr
of the darkness, put him ashore.

With this escapade ended his very short <.'**nnrr-
tion with the sea, and what may be called his

I !

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

boyhood a boyhood which has been described by
one, who probably knew him better than any one
else at this period of his life, as restless. He was
no reader, as some boys are ; the bent of his mind
was action. He must be doing something ; he
could not rest quiet for long ; and if there was no
handy legitimate safety-valve for his spirits, then
mischief was equally acceptable. And to the end
of his life this trait was ever apparent. His litera-
ture consisted of the daily and theatrical papers,
and beyond books which were recommended to him
as possible aids to the conception and representa-
tion of the characters that fell to his lot, there
were very few indeed that he read. He would
sit smoking and chatting to you for a time, but
very soon he would propose a game of chess or
cards, or it may be a stroll. His mind must be
at work on something, it mattered not what.
Even in his early days he did not seem to know
the meaning of fear ; it had no place in his nature.
As a proof of this, in order to bring his mother
to what he considered reason, he, one day, lay full
length, swaying backwards and forwards, almost on

AT SEA

EARLY DAYS

the edge of a very steep slated roof, a fall from
which meant certain death.

It was now clear to those most interested in
his welfare that little was to be looked for in the
way of a seafaring life. The ocean could not
offer sufficient inducement to charm this wayward
spirit, and a hope revived that he might settle
down to a quiet home life. His ideas, however,
ran in the opposite direction, and notwithstanding
the wise counsel of those dear to him, he cast in
his lot with the gay, frivolous world, deeming it
somewhat prosy and absurd to commence a hum-
drum existence at so early a stage of his life. Just
about this time, when he was seventeen, he came
in for a moderate legacy from an uncle, and as if
under the impression that it would last for ever, he
spent money freely, and enjoyed the life of a rich
young man about town. Among other luxuries
he set up a trap of his own design, which has
since been described by one who knew it as "a
kind of glorified milk-cart/' But the legacy he
had received could not bear this strain for long,
and there came a day when he discovered the

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

exchequer was low, and that something woulc

have to be done. He was level-headed enougl

to know that an absolutely new field offered hin

the best chance of success, so breaking up hi

establishment, and taking leave of his old com

panions, he went abroad to his eldest brother, wh

at that time was Deputy Commissioner at Chii

tagong, in Assam, and he placed him with a tec

planter near there to learn the business. H

remained in this occupation some four or fiv

months, but eventually found the monotony of th

life even more trying to his restless nature tha

that on board ship, and gradually becoming coi

vinced that the occupation was not suited to hin

he turned his back on tea-planting, and made h

way to Calcutta.

The experiences he had undergone now con
menced to bear fruit, and on his return home tl
young man seems to have displayed a little re
anxiety as to his future welfare. It became cle;
to him that the lines he had hitherto follows
would not lead to success, or even to mere con
petence. At this time his second brother, Frien<

EARLY DAYS

was house-surgeon at St. Mary's Hospital, and it
may have been this fact that suggested to his
mind that a medical career was perhaps the one
Fate had mapped out for him ; at any rate, he was
constantly at the hospital, mixing with the students,
among whom were several, such as Dr. Edmund
Owen, Dr. George Field, and Dr. Malcolm Morris,
who have since become famous in the various
branches of the profession. With some of these
he formed friendships that lasted as long as life
itself. He joined heart and soul in their amuse-
ments and games, and those with whom he played
at the time are unanimously of the opinion that
he was a remarkably clever and capable half-back
in Rugby football. But at their work he drew the
line. It has been stated that he was a medical
student, but such is not the case ; he never was
entered on the hospital books. At this period of
his life he seemed physically incapable of giving
his mind to anything which involved serious
thought or responsibility. One of his then com-
rades, Dr. Edmund Owen, thus speaks of him :
" He had a fancy for surgery, which, if en

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

couraged, might have caused him to develop into a
dashing, if somewhat reckless, surgeon. But this
was not encouraged, though it never entirely left
him, inducing him to perform various little opera-
tions such as vaccination upon those members of
his household and his theatrical friends as would
offer themselves as patients.

" He liked also to prescribe medicines to his
friends, though there is no evidence to show
that these were ever made up. Rather the con-
trary seems to be the case, for it is not on record
that a death occurred among those for whom he
prescribed.

" Sitting in his dressing-room at the Adelphi,
observing him 'make up/ I have said to him,
* Billy, you are a marvel! How do you manage
to keep your figure and your face so youthful ? *
His reply was invariably the same. 'Ah, dear
boy, I take care of myself/

" And so he did. He was proud of his clear-cut
face and his slim, manly figure, and rightly so.

"There was one thing about Terriss which
should be known widely he was a very careful

EARLY DAYS

and abstemious man in his eating and drinking.
He had a sort of * nursery dinner' late in the after-
noon, and when his acting was over at night he
went home to bed, taking for supper a rice
pudding, or something of that sort.

" But whether Terriss was off the stage or on it,
whether he was digging in his garden or being
falsely accused before a sympathetic Adelphi
audience in short, whatever he was doing, or
wherever he happened to be, he was always the
same dear breezy fellow, and I loved him.' 1

His idea of a doctors life, if it ever had been
anything more than a passing fancy, faded as
quickly as it had sprung into being ; but his com-
panionship with the young "meds" provided him
with the equally brief career that quickly succeeded
it, namely that of engineering. Dr. George P.
Field, the present Dean of St. Mary's Hospital
Medical School, is happily able to throw some light
upon this particular point. He says : " I well re-
member his asking me one day, * How does your
brother like engineering ? ' and when I said that
it just suited him, how he immediately replied,

LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

ust suit me.' Next day he was duly
d to be with my brother, and I think at
emium, to a firm of engineers in Oxford

shall never forget meeting him, shortly
, walking down that same street, in the
an engine-driver, with face and hands
1 clothes which had once been white,

with grease and tar. Engineering
m for a while, but he soon threw it up,
I his attention to something else."
at this time, just after his engineering
3 had received their quietus, that he par-
:n a huge joke that brought ridicule on

of Weston-super-Mare for years after-
t is true that at the outset he was an
party to it, but directly he saw the way
nd he entered into the matter heart and
played his part in such a manner as to
ccess, as long as the joke lasted. He

able to render a considerable service to
i somewhat eccentric relative of his, and

and his friend Mr. Graves proceeded to
uper-Mare to join a yacht, on board

EARLY DAYS

which they were to sail for a pleasure cruise in
the Mediterranean. Money was no object with
his relative, and they travelled from Town in a
special saloon carriage attached to the night mail.
But let the adventure be described by the daily
Bristol Times and Mirror of Wednesday, March
ist, 1865, merely premising that, in view of his
sea trip, Lewin had arrayed himself in the uniform
he wore during his fortnight's apprenticeship to
Messrs. Green & Co.

AN EXTRAORDINARY SCENE AT WESTON-SUPER

MARE.

Weston-super-Mare was yesterday under a
strange influence, which made hundreds of the
usually exceedingly wide-awake inhabitants the
victims of mistaken identity. Early in the morn-
ing the startling intelligence was circulated that a
Prince of the Royal blood had honoured the
town with a visit! At a little before two o'clock
yesterday (Tuesday) morning, on the arrival of the
London mail at the railway station, the officials,
with mingled feelings of astonishment and joy,

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

observed that, attached to the train, was a saloon
carriage, approximating in its exterior and interior
fittings to the comfortable travelling houses which
Royalty uses when on a railway journey.

This carriage had been started with the train
from Paddington station, and conveyed a gentle-
man, his nephew (a lad, apparently about seventeen
or eighteen years old), and a neat-looking valet.
This was certainly an incident beyond the com-
mon run a phase in the railway officials' existence
that undoubtedly does not occur every day. The
passengers who were they ? Alighted from the
train, the distinguished travellers proceeded at
once to the Bath Hotel.

From its being without doubt a Royal train
carriage in which the gentleman had arrived, the
youngest of the party (the nephew), a good-look-
ing young gentleman, was presumed nay, stated
unhesitatingly to be no less a personage than
His Royal Highness the Prince Alfred. The
party went to bed, got up in the ordinary course,
and were partaking of breakfast, when, to the
extreme surprise of the valet, all sorts of inquiries

EARLY DAYS

were made as to the arrival of one of the Royal
blood. The valet was astounded, and scarcely
knew what reply to make, save to deny that the
rumour was true. But this would not satisfy the
inquirers, who were determined that a Prince was
among them, and would not be convinced of their
error. During the morning rounds of one of our
principal medical practitioners, he had occasion to
call at the hotel to see a former patient. This
gentleman had the good fortune to meet the
senior of the party whose arrival had created so
much excitement, and he was consulted as to
what steps had best be taken to abuse the expec-
tant public of their mistake. From that hour
the news which before had been confided only
to a favoured few spread rapidly over the town,
that a member of the Royal Family was staying
at the Bath Hotel. The authorities and the
public were at once on the qui vive. A small
list of official personages, including magistrates,
police, tradesmen, and members of other portions
of the Great Western community, met, we under-
stand, to discuss what shape a demonstration in

23 c

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

honour of the Imperial visitors should assume.
The doctor recommended that nothing at all
should be done, as the occasion did not demand
it, and requested that all inquirers should be told
that they were entirely misinformed. It was
subsequently arranged that, in order to escape
further annoyance, the gentlemen should order
a carriage to take them to the railway, prior to
leaving by the 3.30 p.m. train. This carriage
was ordered, and it was hoped that nothing more
would be done in the matter; but no, a Royal
visitor does not visit Weston-super-Mare every
day, and it was too good an opportunity for future
distinguishment to be lost. The church bells were
set a-ringing in honour of what was everywhere
talked of as " the auspicious occasion," and a
spirited fly proprietor furnished a wonderful "turn-
out" four spanking grey tits and a resplendent
carriage, with two well-dressed postillions. This
elaborate vehicle conveyed the distinguished per-
sons to the railway station, the doctor being one
of the party. In front of and around the approach
to the station was congregated an immense crowd,

EARLY DAYS

the component and not over-select parts of which
immediately surrounded the visitors and pressed
forward to see "the Prince," treading on their
neighbours' toes, elbowing them mercilessly, and
taking particular care of themselves.
Our correspondent was informed that a chemist
of ultra-patriotic feelings forwarded to the Bath
Hotel a bottle of scent for " the Prince," as a
small but sincere mark of esteem, accompanying
the same with an epistle couched in the most
glowing terms, and complimenting His Royal
Highness on his illustrious descent from a long
and royal line of ancestors. When the party left
the Bath Hotel for the railway station, numbers
of people congregated, and in the most respectful
manner bowed them out ; and when going down
the High Street, a shop lad threw into the
carriage another scent bottle, crying with immense
fervour, " Long live Prince Alfred ! "

Lewin long preserved the scent bottle as a me-
mento of the joke, which he was never tired of
relating, and added this further incident, not men-
tioned in the newspaper report that, while on

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

their way to the station, the carriage was stopped,
and an enthusiastic lady presented him with a
large bouquet, accompanied by a lengthy address,
couched in glowing terms.

CHAPTER II
ON AND OFF THE STAGE

T TIS pleasure trip over, young Lewin returned
* to London, and the question of adopt-
ing some profession again exercised his mind.
He had previous to this frequently taken part
in amateur theatricals in various localities, the
honour of having been the first to introduce him to
the stage being claimed by Dr. George Field when
house-surgeon at St. Mary's so to that institution
may be accorded the distinction of being the birth-
place of the latent talent which in after years
made such a mark in England and America. He
says :

" I used every year, with the assistance of
Dr. Milner Moore, now of Coventry, to get up
private theatricals, followed by, a ball, in aid of
the hospital funds, which were always benefited

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

thereby in a sum of from ^150 to ^180. On
one occasion I was the King in Bombastes Furioso>
and Lewin, an ignominious super, had nought to

say but

1 What will your Majesty please to wear
Or red, blue, green, or white or brown?
Will you please to look at the bill of fare?'

To which I sternly replied,

1 Get out of my sight, or I'll knock you down. 3

" Of this his first appearance on any boards
Lewin was never tired of talking."

The programme of one of the young actors
early appearances is given opposite, and it is a
curious fact that, during the compilation of this
book, this illustration came under the notice of a
gentleman who was present at the performance,
and wrote the notice of it for the Co^trt Jotirnal,
and he remembered how on this occasion Will
Lewin made a slip when, as " Augustus Burr " in
The Porters Knot, he returns home to find his
father at his old trade ; and in answer to Mrs.
Burr's inquiry, " Have you seen your father?"
he exclaimed in ultra heart-broken tones, "Yes, I

ON AND OFF THE STAGE

have I have painfully wheeling a strength too
great for his load," and how he very coolly cor-

To commmcft *t

A Sa,-B, ritlt the PittCR.

14,' REGENT STREET,

" TD. auV, rf Ourfty brook. aUdojr."

On Saturday, 27tH Aril, 1867,

o. 1,

THE

FUPfKR .

tfOBUusa .

.\it. ir. r-\r,.Ki.

TEE-

To be followed by tlia Sflrio-comic ORA.M.I.
By J. Otmfard, K* f .

\&>w <&$Wiimm grsjmns

10. OtV*.TKmi

ST, SAVIOUR'S SCHOOLS' BUILDIHfi FUKD,

CAPTAIN OAlCL'it .
SAMSOM BUUR ....
AUGUSTUS BUEIt . . .
SMOOTHLY SMIRK
STEPHEN SUATTKtt ' . .
BOB
MKd. BUWt
' ' (1/crorigi!

Mr. ('.. t;..iicRT

Mr fKAKK How >
Mr. IL l\ Vf"t*i
Mrs. I.mrclt MWUU.J
ixt <ftracti

JCA1DA JffILL,
On whuS necii<xr tha following Gentlemen hato kindly

c!ic'J% < f ; v i 7''" """*'""*"'

Sir DANIKL OOOCH. Brt.. M.P.. Wrwidf.Bod. W
Li-wt-Col. WKITEIIEAD. 2S. Clifton Garden.. W
Mtjox EULAM. WandiworUx, S W.
Dr. BUCHANAU. 2. St. Leeawrl'i VUlaj, W.

^IPJfi:

HOWARD ROBERTS. Kq.. F.6.A., 30. Ulmflld Rp0. W
ALGERNON I1AUUE. Eq.. Poor Uw Bourf, S.W.
LEEDHAU WHITK, E<].. 39, Clifton Oardoiu. W.
0. A DICK2K-CAARTEN. Esq.. 2. Wamngton CUr,U, M . W
WILLIAM. E. A1*LEN. S*j.. Orwnbrd. HiddtnMi. W
LAXGTON THOJtJNUILL. Ewt. .10. Wsrwl.-k R M d. W
C. TBBnjtJtN, j, 33. Cirrton Villw. W
K. OXENTORD. Ei .. 8. Howlcy Plata. W
K MASSON. Cq.. J. Ritodolph RoJ. W

FRA DtAVOLO .
MATTE* .
LORENZO .
BEJPPO
CIACOMO-

ANTONIO .
7.ERUNA .
X.AUV ALLCAHH

Mr. W. Lewis..
Sir. C. TKUtsBj*.
Mr. R. Lmrrv.
Mr. W T. RO.MW

frCr. K. OXKXrOHD.

JCr". T. AvaBLL. Ji
Mr. N. E. Door.
Mi<u> l.v SKTEH:-.
ilrt- Uio MCRS.

KH T ROBERTS,

Stalls, 5s ; Essorved Seats, 3s ; Area, la.

Director VLr. K
Maasra. KATHAN. Ticixboruo Strict.
r-Mr. WICKJENB, 3rydg Btr^at.

ONE OF HIS FIRST PUBLIC APPEARANCES

(From Mrs. CUSHMAN DIGNAM)

rected himself, repeating the sentence, but this
time as the author wrote it.

Lewin very soon showed he had something in
him, and his appearances were marked by so much

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

success that his services were a good deal sought
after in many parts of London, and this it was
which probably induced him to take up acting
seriously as a means of livelihood.

It was in 1867 that Lewin got his foot on the
first step of the theatrical ladder. He was at
Birmingham at the time, where the late James
Rodgers was playing the leading role in Arrak-na-
Pogue, though, owing to his immense proportions,
he experienced considerable difficulty in negotiating
some of the scenes. Lewin made his acquaintance,
and as the result of his expressed determination to
go upon the stage, Rodgers deputed him to make
up in his own costume, and play his double in the
ivy-covered tower scene. This young Lewin did
with considerable dclat^ being honoured with a call.
It was during one of those performances for
Rodgers that he dropped a valuable diamond out
of a ring he was wearing. After the performance
he searched high and low for it, but without success.
On the following morning one of the working staff
restored it to him. Lewin rewarded him, and told
him to order a good suit at his tailor's, and he

would pay for it.

ON AND OFF THE STAGE

n 1868 he obtained at the Prince of Wales
eatre, Birmingham, his first remunerated cn-
remcnt (not a very lucrative one, uSV. per week)
"Chouser" in The / y 7)'/>/- Scud. In this he
1 a most important speech to deliver, which, in
nervousness, he forgot, lie managed to blurt
:, u Lady Wuodbee has come to town"; and
en told by a fellow-actor to go on with his
t, he said, "and the rest/' and retreated. From
.t clay lie was known among his comrades by
i sobriquet, 4i The Rest."

Birmingham did not seem to hold out any great
)spect of money-making, and Lewin determined
take the bull by the horns and try his fortune
London. In conjunction xvith his brother the
ctor, and with the help of a directory, he evolved
> subsequent stage name of Terriss (the name
which we shall henceforth continue to speak of
11), and, thus armed, lie set out to interview Mn
incroft. The incident of this interview, and the
suit, may be told in Mr. now Sir- Squire Ban-
Dft's own words, taken from his Reminiscences.
" During the previous summer we were con-

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

stantly told by a maidservant that * a young gentle-
man had called J who seemed very persistent about
seeing us. One day, on returning from a walk,
the girl informed me that c the young gentleman 1
had brushed past her and walked into our little
drawing-room, where he then was. I joined our
visitor rather angrily, but was soon disarmed by
the frank manner of a very young man, who, within
five minutes, in the course of conversation pointed
to the window of a house opposite, and said,
' That's the room I was born in.' (We then lived
in a little villa in St. John's Wood.) Of course
* the young gentleman ' w^as stage-struck, and
'wanted to go upon the stage/ adding that 'he
was resolved we should give him an engagement/
His courage and, if I may say it, his cool perse-
verance both amused and amazed me ; the very
force of his determined manner conquered me, and
the upshot of our interview was that I did engage
him. His name was William Terriss, and ' Lord
Cloudwrays ' in Society was the part in which
he made his first appearance on a London stage."
It was, of course, at the old Prince of Wales

AT THE AGE OF 22
From a Photo by WINDOW & GROVE

ON AND OFF THE STAGE

Theatre in Tottenham Street that his dtbut took
place, and the fact that he was to appear gathered
many of his former colleagues to the first night.
They distributed themselves over the house, and
the entry of their friend was the signal for such
an outburst of enthusiasm as almost amounted to
a riot, which, instead of furthering the end they
had in view, very nearly caused him to lose the
position he had obtained. As was only natural,
one of his brothers was present to see how he got
on, and after the play they met and strolled home-
ward together. Conscious of the brilliant success
he imagined he had achieved, he was constantly
expecting his brother's congratulations, but that
gentleman was silent on the point until Terriss
ventured to ask his opinion. He thereupon whis-
pered in his ear,

" Chuck it up, dear boy ; you'll never do."
At the Prince of Wales Terriss was a

-walking gentleman/ 1 boyish and bright, with a
somewhat hurried method of speech, and con-
siderable restlessness of manner. It was
this engagement that he married Miss

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

Lewis, who, as Miss Amy Fellowes, had been a
member of the Vaudeville company when Mon-
tague, Thorne, and James reigned in the little
Strand house. The first meeting of the young
people took place at Margate, where the attention
of the lady was attracted by some of Terriss's
swimming feats. The admiration was mutual,
and an introduction having taken place, the pair
sauntered on the promenade. But it so happened
that on this day the lady wished to go back to
London by the three o'clock train. This arrange-
ment did not suit Terriss, who was anxious to
have her company for a longer time ; he left her
for a moment and put his watch back a couple of
hours. Very shortly after rejoining her she asked
him the time, and he replied, " One o'clock." She
expressed her surprise that the time had passed
so slowly, but on glancing at his watch was con-
vinced. They went for a drive, and had lunch,
after which they drove to the station, when by
the clock there it was 5.30. The lady declared
she had been grossly deceived, but Terriss was
able, after a long argument, to make her believe

ON AND OFF THE STAGE

his watch had stopped without his being aware of
the fact, and she eventually forgave him.

The marriage took place at Holy Trinity Church,
by Portland Road Station, and was a very quiet
and unconventional function. Terriss had merely
told his brother and his old friend, Mr. Graves,
that he was going to be married at such a church,
on such a date, and at such a time, and the various
parties interested arrived for the most part by
'bus, and in every-day costume. The ceremony
was performed, and the happy pair set out for
their honeymoon at Richmond on a 'bus.

The part entrusted to him in Society was a
small one, and as the other artistes included such
well-known actors as Hare, Montague, Blakeley,
John Clarke, Bancroft, and Montgomery, Terriss
had naturally very little chance of shining. It may
have been that he felt this, or that, even though
he had found an opening in Town, theatrical life
did not seem exactly to suit him ; at any rate, there
suddenly came another change in his programme,
and a .wild determination again to try his luck
abroad -having seized him, he made preparations

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

for a departure to the Falkland Islands, with the
view of becoming a sheep farmer.

He and his young wife started from Southamp-
ton on a Brazilian mail packet bound for Monte
Video, but on reaching that spot they found it in
a state of siege. However, they w r ere allowed to
land, and reached their hotel, only to be detained
there a far longer time than they had anticipated.
Their stay was one of anything but pleasure, and
both Terriss and his wife regarded themselves as
in imminent danger of losing their lives. They
had not a single weapon of defence, and in view
of the strange commotion, and the determined
efforts of the natives to effect an entrance, Terriss
could only block up the doorway of their apartment
and wait for more quiet times.

Under these exceptionally trying conditions they
remained for at least a week, when matters assumed
a more peaceful aspect, and they were enabled, and
not too soon, to turn their backs upon the place,
and in a small coasting steamer, which had pre-
viously been Lord Dufferin's yacht, the Foam>
proceed en route for the Falkland Islands.

ON AND OFF THE STAGE

The outward voyage, however, was by no means
of a pleasant character. A few days after leaving
Monte Video the yacht encountered exceedingly
foul weather. A pampero arose, and raged with
its accustomed ferocity for nine days, in the midst
of which the vessel ran into a British barque ; but
the collision was not sufficiently powerful to cut
her down.

For five days Mrs. Terriss remained in her bunk,
and the crew and passengers every moment felt
they were destined for a watery grave.

The vessel was waterlogged, the pumps refused
to act, and all hope seemed to be gone. Terriss
and his wife at this time had a very anxious talk.
The question at issue was whether they should
die together ; whether he should first shoot his
wife and then himself.

Happily this design was not carried into effect,
for Xerriss, looking ahead, sighted the desired
haven, and hope revived. For the moment Fate
seemed to favour them, the pumps again worked,
and a speedy termination of their troubles appeared
at hand ; but very soon the gale arose once more

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

with increased vigour, and caused the yacht to
drift more than two hundred miles out of her
proper course.

Terriss now for the first time in his career stood
forward as a leader of men. In their dilemma he
urged all on board to the greatest exertions. His
instructions were obeyed. Again and again he
renewed his request to those around him not to
lose heart. Signals of distress were hoisted, and
in due time the entire crew and passengers were
rescued, after having endured keen privations
which had almost been their death.

On landing at the Falkland Islands Terriss and
his wife received quite a royal greeting. Especially
was this the case with Mrs. Terriss, who was the
first white lady to step upon the shore. In honour
of this event the natives crowned her with tufts of
woven grass, and declared her queen, if not of the

island, " of their hearts."

Having settled at Stanley, Terriss entered into

partnership with Captain Pack in the business of

sheep farming, and a very extensive trade they did.

While in pursuit of his business Mrs. Terriss was

ON AN1> OFF THE STAGE

of mves'.ity leii a great deal to her own resources,
in the: liul % rotuge which they made their home.
IIrrc% surrounded by ;i goodly number of the native,
p< >pulatit ui she* became intensely nervous. The
people fmreil their attentions upon her, and
honoured her in such u way as to be distasteful
to her. Her husband was apprised of this on more
than one occasion, and, while sympathizing with
her in her loneliness, he endeavoured to impress
upon her that these overtures were made out of
t!ie kindest <>f motives. She failed to appreciate
his n-niarks, and asked him to pitch his tent else-
where, if possible somewhere nearer home, and
amid more eungemal surroundings.

Terriss was next found training wild horses.
Dressed in a must picturesque costume, he got on
famously, not only with the horses, but also with
the. men whom lie. employed. He manipulated
the lasso with much dexterity, and was specially
marked out as an expert in the craft One
particular animal was voted untameable. Terriss,
however, mastered him, but not without experi-
encing considerable difficulty. His success or

41 r>

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

rdour declined by degrees, and he gave up the
;ame. From taming wild animals he tried his
land in the same direction with wild fowl. In
his he was not encouraged by success, although he
nade the most elaborate arrangements in order to
idequately carry out his scheme ; so he gave up the
experiment, and filled up his time by making little
:rips of discovery in the vicinity of his settlement.
About this time H.M.S. Speedwell put into the
uarbour. Terriss, "got up" as a lieutenant, paid
the captain a visit, and led him to believe he was
somebody of great importance. He related the
fact that his wife, on her landing, had been crowned
queen of the island ; and that being the case, he
argued, he must be the king. The story was evi-
dently believed by the captain, as the Speedwell,
on leaving the harbour, dipped her flag thrice and
fired her guns in honour of the pair. In response
Terriss made for his cottage, which stood in an
elevated position hard by, and, having secured a
red silk handkerchief to a broom handle, got on
the roof, waved his "flag" three times, and then
fastened the staff to the chimney-pot.

ON AND OFF THE STAGE

For the purpose of making observations, Terriss
built a punt, which to his mind appeared seaworthy.
Under ordinary circumstances perhaps he was right,
but on one occasion she was put to a very severe
test. All went well enough until out in the open
sea, when a gale arose and knocked her timbers
asunder, leaving her skipper to the mercy of the
waves. He, however, managed to reach the shore,
and this experience put an end to any similar
excursions in the future.

Before making that adventurous journey he had
planted in his garden a number of radishes, and,
in order adequately to describe the force of this
gale, Terriss told his friends that some of the plants
were blown far, far away. One of these, he de-
clared, was found on the rigging of a ship anchored
at the distance of two miles.

Terriss tarried at the little station for about
twelve months, when he and his wife returned to
the settlement " Stanley," where his daughter was
born. The ceremony attending the christening of
the child was one of pomp and grandeur. The
sponsors were the governor of the islands (Colonel

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

D'Arcy) and his wife, with whom the Terriss's were
on the closest terms of friendship.

He now earnestly spoke of his desire to re-
turn to England, and notwithstanding the warm
entreaties of the governor and the numerous
friends he had made on the island, he determined
to take his departure at once. Owing to the very
heavy harbour dues, a first-class vessel seldom came
into that port. He refused to wait for the arrival
of the next, and so booked passages on a whaler
hailing from Honolulu, which a Swedish captain
had been sent out to purchase.

Terriss, his wife and the child, who was but a
fortnight old, were taken alongside the whaler on
the governor s yacht. The crew of the homewarcl-
bound vessel was a mixed lot, and the captain
turned out to be a most undesirable fellow. In
consequence of this officer having reduced the
.allowance of the crew to three biscuits and "a pint
of water a day, mutiny broke out among them.
For some reason the men rallied round Terriss,
and made him their captain pro tern., ordering the
mate to render him every possible assistance. The

ON AND OFF THE STAGE

course thus adopted increased the enmity of the
captain towards the crew, and also embittered him
against the three passengers to such an extent that
he had recourse to most extreme measures regard-
ing their food.

Naturally Terriss would not allow such a state
of things to go on. He stoutly protested against
this injustice, and declared that he would force open
the provision locker and dole out eatables as they
were required. He was, however, prevented from
carrying out his purpose to the fullest extent, and
seeing that the health of his wife and baby was
suffering from the want of proper and regular meals,
he was, in order to obtain sufficient food, obliged
to kill a pet goat which the governor had given
him to provide milk on the voyage.

Upon learning what had been done, the captain
became almost frantic, and threatened to take the
carcass from him. Overhearing the altercation be-
tween the two, Mrs. Terriss intervened, and suc-
ceeded in pacifying the master. Terriss was highly
amused at the wrangle, and afterwards, by way
of jest, promised to give the captain the kidneys.

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

From this time both the quantity and quality of the
provisions improved all round, and upon the cap-
tain again taking command, matters went on more
smoothly and pleasantly ; but the whole voyage
was of a most dull and dreary character, extend-
ing over four months, and the passengers arrived
at Falmouth more dead than alive.

CHAPTER III
AT LEXINGTON, KENTUCKY

TN September, 1871, having settled in a plea-
^ santly situated cottage at Barnes, Terriss ob-
tained an engagement at Drury Lane, and appeared
as " Robin Hood " in Mr. Andrew Halliday's
drama Rebecca, and after that as " Malcolm
Graeme" in The Lady of the Lake, Mr. James
Fernandez being " Fitz James." It was not until
this engagement that he began to be regarded as
a coming "juvenile lead" of very high attainments.
Mr. G. R. Sims thus writes of him at that time :

" My earliest reminiscences of William Terriss
carry me back to the early seventies. In a queer
little house in Holy well Street a few theatrical and
newspaper men had started a club. It has long
since disappeared, but it was famous in its day.
The old Unity Club flourished in the palmy days of
the Strand Theatre, and the Swanboroughs were

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

its constant patrons. At the Unity Club day after
day a few actors and journalists met and dined
together at three o'clock. Among the men who
dined frequently were Edward and Arthur Swan-
borough, David James, Thomas Thorne, Walter
Joyce, H. B. Farnie, George Honey, George
Barratt, James Albery, Harry Leigh, and William
Terriss. Terriss, when I first met him at the
Unity, was playing at Drury Lane in The Lady of
the Lake. In those days Terriss was looked upon
as a promising young actor. He was immensely
popular with all of us, and it was a rare thing to go
to the Unity in the afternoon and not find young
Terriss the life and soul of a merry little party.
We all prophesied that he had a great future before
him, and our prophecy was speedily fulfilled. Im-
portant engagements were offered to him at the
leading West-End houses, and he became a great
London favourite."

But by-and-by his restless, roving spirit once
more asserted itself, and again throwing his chance
of success on the stage aside, he arranged to join
one of his old schoolfellows, Mr. Percy Tattersall,

AT LEXINGTON, KENTUCKY

nephew of the head of the firm at Knightsbridge,
in a horse-breeding venture at Lexington, Ken-
tucky. It was a sudden impulse, and little time
was spent in consideration. Mrs. Terriss was
asked to pack up what goods and chattels they
would require on the voyage and afterwards, and
once more to become a traveller. She naturally
felt loth to leave her newly-made home, but having
implicit faith in her husband she resigned herself,
and they and their daughter set off together;

Arriving at Lexington in due course, safe and
sound, they failed to discover the golden streets,
picturesque villas, and love-birds so much talked
of before they left England, but instead had to
encounter the greatest irregularity, rudeness, and
confusion. They made their abode in a wooden
shanty, which consisted of three small rooms, and
a yard in which the cooking operations were
carried on ; a somewhat spacious tree - trunk
served as a cooking-range. This yard was the
rendezvous of rats, and it can be readily imagined
with what difficulty the most important domestic
offices were carried out. Mrs. Terriss, who had

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

so far displayed much heroism, was determined
not to show the white feather now. Nor did she,
but pluckily faced and conquered all the many
difficulties by which she was surrounded.

Brimful of the delights and anticipations of his
new vocation, Terriss rose with studied punctuality
at five o'clock each morning, and spent the first
two or three hours in horse-doctoring. He was
in his element again, but before very long his
ardour began to wane, this time principally by
reason of his vanishing capital, and his thoughts
once more reverted to the stage, and to the friends
he had left behind him in England-
Speaking some years afterwards of his past ex-
periences, he mentioned an incident which took
place at this time, and it may not be uninteresting
to record his words. He said :

" I have been knocking about the world for
over twenty-five years, as most people know, and
although I am simply known as an actor, I have
by turns been a midshipman, tea-planter, engineer,
sheep-farmer, ^and horse-breeder, and in pursuit of
these occupations I have naturally visited all sorts

AT LEXINGTON, KENTUCKY

and conditions of places, hobnobbed with every
kind of queer folk, and found myself in extremely
queer predicaments.

" I have been baked by tropical suns, drenched
and frozen by icy-cold waves, parched with thirst,
devoured by hunger, placed in peril of my life
scores of times, and in turns kindly and unkindly
treated by the people with whom I have come in
contact ; but I have always recognised the fact
that life is. too short to bear enmities : I have
never lost a friend.

"Owing, I suppose, to a certain waywardness
of disposition, and a dislike of staying in one
place or doing one thing for any length of time,
I have roamed perhaps more than I should have
done. All my ventures, other than those pertain-
ing to the stage, have met with little or no success.
I have, therefore, known what it is to want a friend
with a warm heart and a ready hand.

" But I am now going to tell you a tale
about a friend not of this sort. He was one of
those kind-hearted individuals who never allow
themselves to lose faith in human nature, and

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

of whom, alas ! the world possesses far too
few.

" In 1871 I went to Kentucky, accompanied
by my young wife and daughter, Ellaline, who
was at the time twelve months old. I soon found
that the road which I had been led to believe
was paved with the * almighty dollar ' was a
thoroughfare where this coin was unknown, at
any rate to me.

" After I had, in conjunction with Mr. Tattersall,
expended all my money on horse-breeding, I
found myself absolutely stranded and penniless,
so decided to return to England, and follow once
more in the footsteps of Thespis.

" And then came the question, ' How am I to
get home ? ' Fortunately, on my arrival, I joined
the Masonic lodge at the place, of which the wor-
shipful master was a Mr. Oliver, who was a large
coachbuilder of Lexington. To him I narrated
my misfortunes. With the courtesy and good
fellowship which ever characterizes the brother-
hood, he then and there lent me what I asked,
and in giving me the money he said, i Pay me

AT LEXINGTON, KENTUCKY

back when you can, my boy. God speed and
God bless you ! '

" I accepted the help gratefully, and, travelling
steerage, returned to England. I need hardly
say I remitted him the amount before I had been
at home twenty-four hours, at the same time
thanking him very heartily for his generous kind-

ness/*

It may be added that, on the way home, Terriss
became such a favourite with the saloon passengers
that he spent most of his time in their company,
and after dining with them he would invariably
bring to the steerage passengers a host of dainty
morsels. His kindness to them was much appre-
ciated, and on leaving the ship he was the recipient
of many good wishes from all those whom he had
befriended.

During one of his professional visits to America,
many years afterwards, he happened to be playing
within a hundred miles of Lexington, and, taking
an early train one Sunday morning, he entered that
beautiful city as the church bells were ringing for
afternoon service.

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

" Lighting my pipe/' he said, " I leisurely
strolled up to the well-remembered spot, and as
I approached Mr. Oliver's house [it will be re-
membered that Mr. Oliver was the gentleman who
had befriended him in a moment of need] I
noticed that the blinds were closely drawn, and
that everywhere were manifestations of mourning.

" I knocked at the door, and an elderly lady
opened it. I inquired if Mr. Oliver, the coach-
builder, were within. Her eyes moistened, and in
tremulous tones she told me that only the day
previously had he been laid to rest in ' God's
Acre/

" The lady was his wife. I recalled the circum-
stances of my former visit to the house, and she
recognised me. A few words of kindly sympathy,
a pressure of the hand that spoke more than any
words could have done, and I departed, happy to
think that I had done what I thought to be a
duty to a benefactor, but regretful that I had been
too late to clasp once more that hand which had
been held out to me in my hour of trouble.

" And, as I walked back to the roadside station,

AT LKXINGTON. KENTUCKY

I could not rrfnun from repeating those beautiful
words of Longfellow, which stunned to me. to
have been written specially for such occasions as

this :

"'Ships that pass in the night, ami speak cadi other in passing,

Only a .signal shown and a distant \vwv in the darkness ;
So in the* otvan of life we pass and speak one another,
Only a look awl a voia% then darkness again and silence* ' "

CHAPTER IV
TO ONE THING CONSTANT

/~\NCE more safe back in England, the wander-
^^ ing, unrestful spirit of Terriss seems to have
died out of him, and he settled down to work in
earnest, having found, and from that time keeping to,
his real vocation, which was that of an actor. By
this time he had probably learnt that a Jack of all
trades and master of none was not a very lucrative
employment, and besides this he \vas married and
had a family, so that the free, harum-scarum, ad-
venturous, and almost hand-to-mouth life he had
lived up till this time could not be followed so
easily. He now had others beside himself to think
of and to work for.

It was in 1873 that he made his third attack on
the stage, and from this moment his success in life
may be said to date. He obtained an engagement
at the Strand, and appeared as "Doricourt" in The

AT THE AGE OF 26
From a Photo ly WINDOW & GROVE

TO ONE THING CONSTANT

Belle's Stratagem, which ran for 250 consecutive
nights. The success he obtained furnished the
encouragement which had hitherto been lacking,
and fortified him in his determination to win a name
as an actor. He went to work with a will, and left
no stone (or study) unturned that might assist him
in attaining his ambitious goal. Those who wit-
nessed his early appearances in London may
doubtless remember that although he evinced great
promise, he did not possess that ringing and beauti-
fully balanced delivery which afterwards proved of
so much service to him. He himself was evidently
aware of this deficiency, for he commenced studying
declamation carefully, and in secret, being not
unmindful of the sage advice given him by many a
veteran elocutionist, who liked "the lively young
spark/' and wished him well With some, it is
probable that such advice would have influenced
the recipient in such a way as to lead him to cling
to certain traditions and mannerisms even then
expiring ; but Terriss had his head screwed on the
right way, and was shrewd enough to select from
these counsels all that might be useful to him in the

59 E

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

new era, while retaining most of his own more up-
to-date methods and ideas.

On the conclusion of his Strand engagement
he returned to Drury Lane, to appear as "Sir
Kenneth" in Richard Cosur de Lion, and on its
withdrawal Miss Wallis found in him a picturesque
"Romeo"- to her "Juliet."

During the long run of Dion Boucicault's third
great Irish play of The Shaughraim (the Colleen
JBawnx&diArrak-na-Pogue being the first two of the
trio), he was " Captain Molyneux," both at Drury
Lane and the Aldephi, to which house it was
transferred ; and it was this character which sug-
gested to the late Henry S. Leigh a charming set
of verses, in which " pretty Miss " from the country,
seeing Molyneux from her seat in the pit, is moved
to a confession of love for the handsome officer,
and of jealousy of fortunate Claire. Poor country
miss ! Charming, darling Molyneux can never
be hers, he is not even Claire's. Says the culprit
himself in the envoy,

"A thousand darlings round me seek
For one sweet smile; but I'll be true
To Chatterton's twelve pounds a week,
My kids, and Mrs. Molyneux."

'ROMEO" IN ROMEO AXD JULIET
From a Photo by W. & D. DOWNEY

TO ONE THING CONSTANT

One of the actor's early engagements was to
play the " Brigand " in a certain piece, of the blood-
and-thunder type, at Astley's Theatre. In one of
the scenes the " Brigand " appeared with his steed
"Teddy." . In this, having finished with the animal,
it was his duty to exclaim, " Get thee to the moun-
tains " ; and at the sound of these words " Teddy "
would move across the stage and exit. Terriss had
got accustomed to " Teddy " ; but unfortunately just
before one of the performances the animal departed
this life, and the management hired one of his
species from the stables of the Omnibus Company
which were hard by. Every available moment be-
fore the show was utilised in rehearsal, but little
satisfaction could be got out of Teddy II. He was,
however, led on to the stage at the proper time.
Terriss gave forth the usual exhortation, and the
scene-shifter held out, as an inducement to the
beast to go in his direction, a handful of provender
or a bunch of carrots. He would not, however,
budge an inch. The words were repeated, and his
tail twisted, but to no avail. Then what turned out
to be a happy idea dawned upon the actor. He

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

remembered that he was dealing with a 'bus horse,
and that the conductor's signal to move on was
Invariably a few sharp stamps on the footboard.
With considerable emphasis he again repeated the
sentence, and imitated the action of the conductor
on the boards, and this had the desired effect.

Both at the Adelphi and the Princess's he
appeared in several revivals, and once more
returning to The Lane, was selected for " Julian" in
Mr. Wills's version of Peveril of the Peak.

It was in the year 1874 or 1875 that he made a
success in the title role of " Nicholas Nickleby " at
the Adelphi, when the late Miss Lydia Foote
appeared as " Smike " and the late John Clarke
as "Squeers." In 1876 he appeared as "Beamish
MacCoul" in J. C. Williamsons revival of Arrah-
na-Pogite, which will be remembered as the first
play in which he trod the boards professionally, play-
ing double to the late James Rodgers as the hero in
the tower scene at the Prince of Wales, Birmingham.

He was the "Earl of Leicester" in the revival
of Amy Robsart, at Drury Lane, in 1877. But it
was on the 3Oth March, 1878, at the Old Court

TO ONE THING CONSTANT

Theatre, that he first represented one of those

characters by which he will be more generally

remembered, viz. " Squire Thornhill," in W. G.

Wills's play of Olivia. Associated with him

was Ellen Terry in the title r$le, and Herman

Vezin as " Dr. Primrose. 1 ' In this year he was also

" Fawley Denham" in The Crisis, by Albery,

"Captain Absolute" in The Rivals, and " Sydney

Sefton " in Conscience Money, by the late H.

J. Byron.

A lady journalist thus writes of him about this
time : " But I must not allow myself to be drawn
into reminiscences, for here I mean where
Terriss is is a matter more attractive. I wonder
if you have heard much of this charming jeune
premier who plays quite too bewitchingly, and in
a series of bows, the part of ' Captain Absolute/ It
is difficult to define the winning personality of this
well-pleasing lad. But I think in the first place
that he must have provided himself with a newly-
invented patent hinged back, which enables him to
personify the very embodiment of gentlemanly
grace. It is in the true spirit of Sheridan's gallant

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

day, this facile bowing, and is relieved by a proud,
sweet, manly bearing, unmistakably indicative of
the well-born youth of noble England. This,
with his languid eye and expirante manner, makes
him the predestine hero of many a gentle heart's
romance ; it is inevitable. Repudiating any spark
of sentimentality in my own admiration of him,
do you think but perhaps I'd better put it in
confidence do you think that if a highly moral
American lady like myself, wife of an officer in
the Civil Service of the United States Govern-
ment, above suspicion of folly in every way,
and quite unacquainted personally with the young
actor, were to quietly kiss him the next time she
meets him in the street, it would be considered
at all peculiar ? Well, then, whatever is he so
pretty for ? C'est de sa faute, aussi"

1879 found him at the St. James's, scoring
largely as " Jack Gambler" in The Queens
Shilling^ '" Count de la Roque" in Monsieur le
Duc y and also in Still Waters run Deep.

In this year also he was playing " Romeo " to the
"Juliet" of the late Miss Neilson, and being his

TO ONE THING CONSTANT

first appearance with her in the part, he wished to
make the best impression he could, and attended
the dress rehearsal fully equipped with a dagger
and a Damascus blade, sharp as a razor. He was
about to begin the duel with " Mercutio," when
Miss Neilson stopped him, and entreated him not
to proceed further save with a blunt weapon. He
followed her advice, but a few years later he evi-
dently forgot her counsel, and was wounded when
playing the same part with Miss Mary Anderson,
for in falling upon the dagger it pierced his side.
On 2Oth September, 1880, he commenced his
long connection with the Lyceum Theatre, playing
"M. de Chateau Renaud" in The Corsican Brothers.
This ran till 3rd January, 1881, when The Cup,
by Alfred, first Lord Tennyson, was produced, and
in this Terriss was " Sinnatus." On i6th April
The Belles Stratagem was mounted, and he was
now seen as " Flutter," a part which was always
assigned to him in the various later revivals of
the play. On the i8th May in the same year
commenced the famous series of performances of
Othello, a series unexampled in the history of the

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

stage, seeing that the parts of " Othello " and
"lago" were alternated each week by Edwin
Booth and Henry Irving. In this Terriss played
" Cassio." The prices of the stalls were raised to
two guineas, and fabulous sums were given for
boxes to witness the greatest tragedians of the
sister countries unselfishly and harmoniously play-
ing on the same stage. Othello was only played
three evenings a week, the remaining three being
filled by the regular company in The Cup and
The Belle s Stratagem.

In the revivals with which the lessee of the
Lyceum always brings his season to a close, Terriss
appeared as "Laertes"' in Hamlet, "Christian" in
The Bells, " Bassanio" in The Merchant of Venice,
and "Richard Houseman" in Eugene Aram.

Boxing Day of the same year saw him still at
the Lyceum, personating " Jack Wyatt " in James
Albery's Two Roses, a revival which served to
introduce George Alexander to a London audience
as "Caleb Deecie." He also played "Viscount de
Ligny" in Planchd's Captain of the Watch. On
8th March, 1882, Romeo and Juliet was produced,

1J t I .

IN ;'*M;/I> j.v/

<', W. u i), lurt

TO ONE THING CONSTANT

:l ran to the end of that season, and well into
5 autumn one. In this Terriss was " Mercutio,"
ring an admirable, and even a perfect, interpreta-
n. No praise was too high for his death scene ;
sank to the real level of nature, and died with
* airs and words with which Mercutio Shake-
fare's Mercutio should pass from the world.
s was now making real headway in his profession,
d about this time a critic wrote of him : "It is
ftcult to imagine an improvement more rapid or
Dre distinct than that of the young actor since
; quitted melodrama for comedy."
It was during this year that, while playing in
ublin, and lodging with Mr. Tyars, of the
yceum, in a small inn on the outskirts of the
:y, he found out that a section of the " Invin-
bles " held their meetings in a room in the house,
his knowledge put an idea into his head, and one
rening he made his way alone into the room, and
arching boldly up to the table, brought his hand
>wn upon it sharply, at the same time exclaim-
g in a tone of authority, "In the name of the
|ueen this meeting is dissolved." This statement,

'DON PEDRO" IN MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
Fr;m a Photo by W. & D. DOWNEY

I A

'EARL OF MORAY" IN CHARLES I
From a Photo by W. D, DOWNEY

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

delivered by a perfect stranger in the stronghold
of treachery, seemed to paralyse the conspirators
present ; they gazed at him in silent astonishment,
but did not offer to move. Seeing this, Terriss
repeated the assertion with more emphasis than
before, and this time it had a curious effect, for
the whole of those present silently rose, and taking*
their hats, filed out of the room, leaving the dare-
devil originator of the joke unharmed, to make his
peace with the terrified landlord, who declared he
would be simply ruined through the occurrence.

Another long run commenced on the 1 1 th
October, 1882, when in Muck Ado aboitt Nothing
Terriss took the part of " Don Pedro," and played
it till the piece was withdrawn, to make way for
the usual series of short revivals which brought the
season to a conclusion in July, 1883. Among these
he appeared as " Courriol " in The Lyons Mail,
" Charles " in Robert Macaire, " Earl of Moray "
in Charles /., and the " Duke de Nemours " in
Louis XL

In the autumn of this year he went with the
Lyceum company on their first American tour,

TO ONE THING CONSTANT

which commenced on igth October, 1883, and lasted
until 26th April, 1884, during which they played
most, if not all, of their London successes. It was
on the outward voyage in the City of Rome that
a rather bragging man, seeing so many landlubbers
present not clad like himself in yachting rig, pulled
out a ten-pound note, and offered to wager it that
there was not one of the passengers who would
take his cap off the top of the mast. Terriss in-
stantly covered the note, and throwing off his coat
and tightening his belt, said, " Done ! Up with
you, and put it on ; I will follow, and take it off."
The offer was withdrawn.

During the tour several well-known members
of the company joined in an entertainment given
at Chickering Hall. It was a great success, and
the rare talent exhibited won unlimited applause.
Terriss's share consisted of recitations, among
which may be mentioned Queen Mab's speech,
The Wreck of the Hespems, and The Life Boat.

While on this tour the company was rehearsing
The Two Roses on the stage of a New York
theatre, Terriss playing the difficult part of "Jack

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

Wyatt." Irving was sitting on the stage, watching
the performance. As on its conclusion he found
no fault, Terriss ventured to go up to him with a
" Well, governor ; will that do ? " and a sort of air
as if he expected a compliment. Irving quietly
wiped his glasses, as his habit is, and replied,
"Yes, very good; but not a d d bit like it."

But the chief result of this visit to America, as
far as the general [public is concerned, was the
introduction to London by Terriss of the famous
Daly company, who since that time have continued
to pay us visits at varying intervals, and are now
so much at home here that they possess a theatre
of their own.

In the summer of this year Terriss became lead-
ing man to Miss Mary Anderson during her visit,
playing in Pygmalion and Gaiatea y The Hitnchback,
and as " Romeo" to her "Juliet." In connection
with this it was remarked that none remembered a
Romeo who in years and good looks was so likely
to take captive the heart of Juliet at first sight.
There had been Romeos of the namby-pamby
order, but there was nothing of the kind about

TUESD-AY. APKU. isth, at 3.30

SPB6l8b

Irj-cr

C'fVfN FlY THE f'AVOWtrt ATIST^,

MR. FREDERICK LESLIE,

OF THK CAS1MO,

By permtvs'on of Mr, John A, McCsulit
List appearance previous to his departure for Europe.

MR. J. ROBERTSON,

OF THE LV< ECJM THEATRE,
tONTDON,

?/ perfn'SS'on of Mr. Henry Irving*

MR. WILLIAM TERRISS,

OF THE LYCEUM THEATRE
LONDON,

By permission of Mr. Henry frying,

KINDLY ASSISTKD BY

MISS EILY COaHLAJi
l - /iff 3*ctcfi vc

W. VV. KEENAN,
J. H. PHrPPS,

TO ONE THING CONSTANT

Terriss. His Romeo, although in love, could
be manly as well as tender. He played the
balcony scene with wonderful fervour; he took
the measure of his new-made grave in a way that
for once did not provoke a smile at Romeo's ex-
pense ; he talked to the apothecary like a desperate
lover who was very much in earnest, and he went
through the business of the final sorrowful scene
with splendid inipressiveness. He, however, made
a great hit in the encounter with Tybalt after
Mercutio's death :

" Alive ! in triumph ! and Mercutio slain ;
Away to heaven, respective lenity,
And fire-eyed fury be my conduct now!
Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again,
That late thou gav'st me \ for Mercutio's soul
Is but a little way above our heads,
Staying for thine to keep him company;
Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him."

This passage Terriss delivered with electrical
force, and his elocutionary skill, coupled with the
grandeur of the subsequent onslaught, was fairly
irresistible.

When Irving played the part so successfully,
Terriss as the " Mercutio" has already been re-

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

ferred to. Every one was compelled to give him
commendation. When he represented " Romeo "
the commendation was not less hearty, for it was
an impersonation of the very highest merits, and
one which added greatly to the popular actor's
already high reputation.

On 2;th May, 1885, Olivia, by W. C. Wills, was
revived, and ran into the autumn season, Terriss
and Miss Ellen Terry taking their old characters,
while Henry Irving chose that of " Dr. Primrose."
In writing of this revival, a critic says :

"In the suggestive acting of Terriss as ' Squire
Thornhill/ and of Miss Ellen Terry in the title
role, there was such a grasp of meaning and wealth
of variety that it was said the audience anticipated
what was to follow. Clear in voice and distinct in
utterance, he never lost sight of one essential con-
sideration ; viz., that although Squire Thornhill was
morally contemptible, he was by birth, education,
and position a gentleman.

" Stage villains at times come to mean those who
are not only morally, but also physically contemp-
tible ; yet had Thornhill been of this pattern he

"SQUIRE THORNHILL" IN OLIVIA
From a Photo by WINDOW & GROVE

TO ONE THING CONSTANT

would never have been loved by Olivia. It was
a most difficult part to play, and it was grasped
from first to last with singular intelligence, a bold
front, and subtle meaning/ 1

On the first night of Olivia, at the close of the
second act, Terriss did not take a call, and the
general audience quietly accepted his refusal. Not
so an infatuated young miss in the dress circle.
Finding the applause had died away, and her
favourite would not exhibit his goodly presence
before the curtain, she rose from her seat, and,
almost choking with excitement, and clapping her
hands wildly, cried, "Ter rr iss ! Terriss ss ! "
She repeated her obvious indiscretion at the final
descent of the curtain.

He next made a move to the Adelphi, where he
opened at Christmas, 1885, as " Lieutenant David
Kingsley " in Harbour Lights, by G. R. Sims and
Henry Petti t a piece that ran without interruption
for 513 nights. A well-known critic thus happily
describes the impression made upon the vast
audience, which nightly crowded the theatre, by
the most perfect impersonation of a British sailor

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

that the stage has ever seen since the days of
J. P. Cooke :

" The acting of the new play is as good as
it well could be. As * David Kingsley,' Mr.
William Terriss has a part after his own
heart. He does not act ; he is the handsome,
frank sailor whose joyous laugh, bright eye, and
sturdy, ringing voice brings life and hope into the
darkest hour. The fine presence, boyish handsome
face, and free fearless gestures, suit the rSle to
perfection ; and in the pretty apostrophe to the
bright eyes of his sweetheart the ' Harbour
Lights' that have shone so steadily for him in
storm and darkness and in the fanciful little * ring
speech* 'Little ring, I've looked at you, and
you've bidden me hope during many a long, dark
watch at sea. Now we're home again, little ring,
and we're going to part Somebody else is going
to have you, and to keep you for ever ; but you 11
make Dave Kingsley's sweetheart Dave Kingsley's
wife ' his masterly elocution was of the greatest
service. I have seen Terriss in many parts, but
in none that has left so pleasant and bright a

DAVID KINC.SI.KY" IN T//K HARBOUR LIGHTS
From a Photo by W. & D. DOWNEY

TO ONE THING CONSTANT

emory as handsome, manly David Kingsley."
One of the authors of the play thus writes of
and its hero :

"Its long and lasting popularity was largely
le to the buoyant breeziness of Terriss's young
ival officer. His portrait in uniform appeared

every shop window, and men and women
ike spoke rapturously of him, and hailed him as
e ideal hero of melodrama. In 1886 his photo-
aph as * David Kingsley * was even issued as a
hristmas card. In private life Terriss spoke and
>re himself very much as he did upon the stage,
is frank, buoyant manner and his cheery style of
Idress earned for him the title of ' Breezy Bill ' ;
id his breeziness was not assumed, but was natural

the man. Downright, hearty, outspoken, and

dependent, William Terriss was invariably umi-

)le ; and even at that trying* time to actors and

ithors alike, the last rehearsals, he always kept

s temper and his cheerfulness.''

It was during the run of Harbour Lights that

fairy-looking, precocious little thing one night

tracted much attention. During a short lull in

'FRANK BERESFORD" IN THE BELLS OF HASELMERE
Front a Photo by WINDOW & GROVE

"JACK. MUD WAY" IN THE UX ION JACK

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

one of the scenes she startled all around her by
exclaiming, "Wai, I'm clean mashed on that Mr.
Terriss."

Following The Harbour Lights came The Bells
of Haselmere, and in this he represented the
hero, " Frank Beresford," winning for himself the
honours of the run among the actors. The open,
engaging sympathy of the young Squire was happily
rendered at his hands; frankness and courage in
his every action and tone. It was, however, in the
scene in which the fugitive struggles against death
in the tangled cane-brake that the artist rose to the
highest level of dramatic power. Weary and faint,
fighting for life, sustained by the hope of restoration
to his love in England, Terriss held the audience
in silent admiration at the striking exhibition of
his skill.

In The Silver Falls, which was afterwards given,
Terriss played the hero with his accustomed vigour
and conviction. Honour, courage, truth, and all
the higher moral sentiments found In him a
fearless and uncompromising champion ; and he
had the satisfaction of feeling that, despite the

TO ONE THING CONSTANT

adoption by the authors of an unconventional
story, his career remained what it had already
been in Adelphi melodrama, a shining axiom that
honesty is the best policy.

On the reopening of the Adelphi after restora-
tion, July 2ist, 1888, The Union Jack was
produced. Into his character of "Jack Medway,"
who wore the smart uniform of a petty officer in
the navy, Terriss threw extraordinary power; "the
true breath of passion breathed into the play,
enabling him to grip the house, so to speak, by
the throat. The grace and dignity with which he
wore his simple uniform, the resonant effect of his
mellow tones, and the bright intelligence of his
piercing glance, won for him half the battle of
success. And the triumph was grand and cumu-
lative. The truth and delicacy of his scenes with
Miss Millward in the first act of the play, the
simple chivalry of his behaviour, and the suggestion
of just germinating affection in his voice, were
admirable enough. But Terriss rose beyond the
region of melodrama in the scene outside the
cottage, where Rose Medway confesses to her

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

brother the sad secret of her fall. Here his acting
was truly elevated. His agonized start, as if physi-
cally wounded, as the terrible truth struck home,
the manly recoil after the momentary collapse, the
bitterness of the strong man's supposed grief, were
all admirably depicted/'

A SOUVENIR

Following this, Terriss, in conjunction with his
old artistic ally, Miss Jessie Mill ward, paid a pro-
fessional visit to the States in 1889-90, appearing
in Othello, JFrou Frou, The Marble Heart, The
Lady of Lyons, Ingomar, and last, but not least,
in Roger la Honte, better known to us in Eng-
land by the name of A Mans Shadow. The
general American idea of the piece was that it
was a strong play of popular interest, and one that

CHESTNUT

STREET

OPERA HOUSE, OMM| MONDAY. DEC. 9.

c.Mu!afc f&

J-H

AN AMERICAN PLAYBILL

TO ONE THING CONSTANT

had all the elements requisite for securing a gratify-
ing profit to its owners. It was a decided success,
viewed from the standpoint of popular melodrama.
And, referring to Terris, it was said that "of the
picturesque, swinging elocutionary type of the
romantic actor he was particularly effective. He
never pained his audience. He showed much re-
finement of method, and his work was indeed high
class. As ' Laroque ' he was graceful and easy
in his movements, his bearing was manly, and his
face was the index of honour and high principle.
As 'Luversan/ an instant later, his features bore
the impress of recklessness, dissipation, and hate."
At the conclusion of this tour he returned to
the Adelphi for the revival of The Plarbour
Lights, and then once more found himself at the
Lyceum, engaged for " Hayston of Bucklaw," in
Herman Meri vale's adaptation of Ravenswood,
with which the season commenced on 2Oth Sep-
tember, 1890. This character he played exactly
in the right spirit, assertive, but never vulgar ;
domineering, but never loud; conceited, but never
foppish. The play required all the relief possible,

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

and Terriss provided the welcome tone of chan;
from persistent gloom. On 5th January, 185
M'uck Ado about Nothing was revived; and t
Lyceum company, released from the somb
Ravenswood, which had fallen somewhat she
of the hundred representations deemed in da
of long runs the minimum test of a decided succe<
returned to the bright and merry scenes
Leonato's house and by the blue waters of the B;
of Messina with a manifest zest. Henry Irvir
appeared as "Benedick," and gave, not the restle
Benedick of the Lewis tradition, nor the mood
saturnine Benedick which old lovers of Macreac
were accustomed to, but the sprightly, courteou
quick-witted gentleman, whose intellectual pric
and sensitiveness to ridicule alone delay the mar
festation of love for "Dear Lady Disdain," whic
holds him captive in the end. Miss Ellen Terr
as " Beatrice," was assuredly never brighter <
fresher in her wilful moods, nor more sweet ar
womanly in her more tender movements, than ;
she now revealed herself to the never-failing deligl
of the spectators.

102

"II, \VSroN OF miCKLAW" IN RAl'fiNSU'OOD

CLAUDIO' IN MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
From a Photo by WINDOW & GROVE

TO ONE THING CONSTANT

Terriss lent the support of his noble bearing
and excellent elocution to the part of "Claudio."
In this he looked handsomer than ever in a most
becoming costume. It will be remembered that
in the original production he was " Don Pedro," but
his " Claudio " was even more admired. His share
of the banter of Benedick, and of the trick by
which he is caught in Cupid's net, was lightly and
effectively done ; and he was magnificently in
earnest in the scene at the altar, where Claudio
rejects his bride and denounces her as a wanton.

On 2nd June, 1891, he appeared for the first
time for a good many years in the opening piece,
the well-known farce, A Regular Fix, and the
character of "Hugh de Brass" was one after his
own heart, affording him ample opportunity for
the display of his lighter talents.

The 5th January, 1892, found him filling the
title role in Henry VIII., a character which had
been specially marked out by the profession as
one of his most successful renderings. A better
Henry than Terriss was not to be desired, so far
as all externals went (see Frontispiece). But this

107

"HENRY II." IN BECKET
from a Photo by WINDOW & GKOVB

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

observation is not intended to imply that his in-
terpretation of the character was not excellent as
well. Yet it was, of course, the outward resem-
blance and bearing that at first appealed to the
audience, and as represented by him, the King
might have stepped from a canvas by Holbein
The manner, too, was good ; there was all the pro-
verbial "bluffness," with command as well; anc
as Terriss and Irving took their places, a striking
study was provided of King and Cardinal.

In the production of Richelieu on the 7th May
1892, he appeared as the " Chevalier de Mauprat "
and on the loth November, as "Edgar," in King
Lear.

When, on February 6th, 1893, Becket, by Alfred
first Lord Tennyson, was produced, Terriss wa<
"'Henry II. ," and in this he met with his accus
tomed success. It was in this year that the entire
Lyceum company appeared, by command, before
Her Majesty at Windsor Castle. During th<
progress of the play the Queen repeatedly led th<
applause, and after the drama was over sent fo
Henry Irving, Miss Terry, Miss Ward, anc

1 08

TO ONE THING CONSTANT

Terriss, and congratulated them upon the success
to which they had contributed. The Queen
furthermore was pleased to express her pleasure
at witnessing the play itself.

On one occasion, when a big rehearsal was
taking place at the Lyceum, and the air was get-
ting rather blue from the severity of the inde-
fatigable actor-manager, Terriss by his ready wit
prevented an explosion. So exactly and con-
scientiously are the actors trained on the Lyceum
stage that, in certain situations, the lessee insists
-on the various characters keeping the same num-
ber of feet apart on each representation. A minor
scene was being rehearsed, and one ingenue, who,
quite unable to remember and keep in her proper
position, was on the point of hysterics, was checked
in time, by Terriss coming forward and saying in
his characteristic way, " Now then, guv'nor, leave
it. to me"; and he then proceeded to pace out the
steps in a mincing way, that was such an outrage-
ous caricature of Sir Henry, that even he laughed
more heartily than the others at the libel, and the
situation was saved.

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

At the conclusion of the London season Terriss
once more accompanied his chief on an American
tour. The company visited most of the more
important cities, playing Much Ado aboitt Nothing,
Charles /., Becket, The Merchant of Venice,
Nance Oldfield, The Bells, etc., and meeting with
an enthusiastic reception wherever they appeared.

Writing during this visit, a member of the com-
pany said :

" We have travelled thousands of miles,
from San Francisco to the borders of British
Columbia, passing up valleys and round the sides
of the Sierra Nevada mountains, enjoying at every
turn the most beautiful scenery, the grandeur of
which beggars description. I can now see the
summit of Mount Shasta, covered with eternal
snow, rising 16,000 feet above the level of the
sea, the ascension of which, when we arrived at
the very high altitude, made the eyes ache and the
blood rush to the head.

" Night closes in as our special still speeds
along, shutting from view this mighty work of
Nature, and we wake the following morning to

112

TO ONE THING CONSTANT

find ourselves on the shores of the Puget Sound
of British Columbia. Thence onward along the
course of the mighty Columbia River, upon whose
banks are the encampments of the Red Indian
and the home of the grisly bear, and here salmon
are so plentiful that a twenty-pounder can be
bought for sixpence.

" Onward again for three nights and days,
through the gray alkali desert, where not a living
thing is to be seen indeed, nothing but man can
exist during which time we have lived in an
atmosphere of dust dust in our food, dust in
our drink, dust in our coverlet dust everywhere.
At last we reach the twin cities of St. Paul and
Minneapolis, which are situated at the source ot
the mighty Mississippi, thence onward to the great
western metropolis, Chicago, where the rag-tag
and bob-tail of humanity of the Western Continent
are mingling with the eastern millionaires. Here,
amidst murders, assassinations, strikes, and anarchy,
we dwell for a month, and once more return to
the welcome city of New York, where a hearty
greeting awaits us. Here it is that we opened

113

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

the New Abbey's Theatre with Tennyson's Becket.
It was certainly a gala night in the annals of
theatrical and social circles, the members of the
diplomatic corps and men of letters and science
honouring the occasion by their presence.

" Miss Millward (who has made such a marked
impression as f Queen Eleanor ' in Beckef) had the
honour of speaking the first words in the new
house, her first lines being, * Dost love this Becket,
this son of a London merchant ? ' etc. ; and at
the termination of the play there was little doubt
that they did love it, for of the enthusiastic manner
in which the piece was received there was not
the slightest doubt, Henry Irving, Miss Terry,
Terriss, and Miss Millward receiving call upon
call for their admirable impersonations.

" Our stay in New York was made doubly
pleasant by the social entertainments which were
given everywhere to the leading members of the
company; and the beautiful drive along the
Hudson River and Central Park, the innumerable
trips across the harbour, and the visits to the
thousand and one places of interest which

1 14

'DON PEDRO" IN MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
From a Photo by W. D. DOWNEY

TO ONK THING CONSTANT

abound in i!u- n -i^'hlx mrhoocl were thoroughly
enjoyed.

" llic hand oi the clock was upon midnight,
ushering in th<' Nrw Year, as our special once
more was speeding un its way to Boston, and it
was with forluu'-; oi love and affection, thinking of
the old folks in Kiujlund, that we burst into the
refrain, ' U<mr, Sweet Home/ and many a silent
tear was hurriedly wiped away as kindly thoughts
and wishes ruse in our breasts for those we loved/*
Terriss wrotr Ins impressions of America as seen
through the actor's spectacles. lie said :

** I consider that Americans are a play-going
race, fonder, far fonder, of all that pertains to the
drama than we in Great Britain. They are quicker
in seeing a point. There is an earnest spontaneity
about their applause, and the actor must certainly
be troubled with a sluggish liver who is not stirred
to something like reciprocity when an American
audience ' rises * to the occasion.

"In England and only those who have passed
some years before the footlights can speak with
certainty on this matter it is very difficult to

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

gauge whether you have the true ear of the
house.

" Not to put too delicate a point on it, one is
not always sure whether one is playing to the
gallery, to the stalls, to the pit, or to all three.
Divided sympathies are by no means uncommon.
I have before now seen Olympus in ecstasies,
while the pit has yawned and the stalls frowned ;
and again in the same rSle I have noted another
actor reverse the process, while yet a third has
secured the suffrages of the entire 'front/

" In America this splitting of interests is rarely
met with. The Theatre as a whole either madly
dotes on you, or coldly and impassively sits you
out once.

" Socially the actor in America is received every-
where, though, for the matter of that, the actor
in England, so long as he preserves his self-
respect, holds pretty much the same position now
that education has swept away class prejudices.

" The fair sex in America appear to be dominant
in matters theatrical. If the ladies, for example,
approve a play or a certain actor, they seem to

118

TO ONE THING CONSTANT

join hands and support their opinion with such
tenacity of purpose that failure is impossible, and
a momentary success is guaranteed. The men,
too, tacitly accept the position, and seem to take
it for granted that the acumen of the feminine
brain is, histrionically speaking, superior to their
own. They follow dumbly in the wake of the
dear creatures, and I am not aware that they
could do very much better. Once having gained
the right side of the ladies, an actor can leave
the rest to Providence and the checktaker.

"In England, I need hardly say this is all re-
versed ; the genus komo is consulted by his wife
and daughters as to where to go, and the defer-
ence to his judgment where ' mumming ' is con-
cerned is all but universal.

"I found the American race one of the most
hospitable and free-hearted folk of the world's
teeming millions I have met; and as I have ex-
plored a good many corners of our planet, I can
conceive of no finer pleasure excursion for an
actor at least a juvenile actor than a short
playing" tour from New York to San Francisco.

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

"The broad burly arms of America's Bohemians
are held out, and there are hand-grips and pleasant
greetings from jolly good fellows you have never
met before. They mean all they say; the large
class of Society eagerly welcomes you, and makes
much of you, and what is better than all else,
you feel that it is not the * lionizing ' sentiment
which is actuating your hosts, but the wish to
make a fellow feel at home three thousand miles
from his own hearth.

" Now a word as to the theatres themselves.
These are all round more perfect play-houses,
both structurally and acoustically, than our Eng-
lish houses, and the general air of comfort about
them is, I take it, one strong reason for the ex-
istence of the extensive community of American
playgoers.

" We were travelling by special train from New
York to San Francisco, and when we arrived at
Cheyenne, a station at the foot of the Rocky
Mountains, we found that we were twelve hours
behind time. Fearing that we should be late
for our opening performance, I thought our only

TO ONE THING CONSTANT

chance was to try an application of the * Almighty
Dollar/ I did this to the driver in the shape of
a ten-dollar bill, asking at the same time to be
allowed to ride on the engine. The result was
that we ascended and descended the Rockies at a
far greater speed than had ever before been at-
tained, and when it became known that the in-
creased oscillation, as we spec! through the rugged
defiles, across the slender bridges that spanned the
yawning ravines, and through the snow sheds, was
due to the erratic driving of a Thespian, prayers
were offered up for the safe arrival of the troupe
at San Francisco. Crossing the suspension bridge
over the Niagara Rapids by night, the mists from
the mighty falls falling like myriads of sparks
from the water as the rays of the white winter
moon played upon it after its leap of 700 ft., and
glittering in every direction, was decidedly a novel
and exhilarating experience. So, too, was sleighing
at lightning speed in ice-boats over the splendid
Lake Ontario, and flying like birds upon the wing
also in ice-boats over the frozen surface of the
mighty St. Lawrence River, Toboganning, too,

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

at the rate of a hundred miles an hour is a luxury
one must go to America to fully appreciate. Then,
when we were travelling, the temperature was
sometimes thirty degrees below zero, and petro-
leum had to be burned under the engine to pre-
vent the joints from freezing. For more than
a week at a stretch we were in the train day
and night without even alighting, so that you see
even starring in the States has its hardships.

"As we travel through the States the immensity
of the country impresses one. In Great Britain the
run from Aberdeen to E us ton makes one feel that
the right little, tight little island is a bit of a mis-
nomer after all, and that the 'little' is an adjec-
tive that might with safety be omitted ; but in
the States the distances are appalling. Of course,
one knows the actual linear measurement in miles
and furlongs between New York and Chicago ;
but try the journey, and the feeling of space be-
gins to grow on one until the mind can dwell on
little else.

" Every man should Jove his native land and feel
proud of it. The American does this and more ;

TO ONE THING CONSTANT

lie revels in the vastness of his country. No
one who has traversed it can wonder at the trans-
parent boastfulness which sometimes makes a full-
blooded Yankee believe that the world begins at
Manhattan and ends at the Port of Monterey.

" The engineering feats appear marvellous. One
is absolutely lost in wonderment when contem-
plating the Brooklyn Bridge, those gigantic struc-
tures thrown across the Mississippi at St. Louis,
the truly marvellous bridge across Niagara, and
the monster hotels everywhere, which surpass the
highest caravanserais of fairydom.

"The go-ahead characteristics of the nation speak
out in every city, street, and side- walk, Nothing
is old everything fresh and delightful Can I
put the matter more forcibly ? Everything they
do is great ; their chief trait a trait I admire like
all people who possess but little of it energy."

CHAPTER V
HIS LAST ENGAGEMENTS

A FTER seven pleasant years' association with
^ ^ the Lyceum, Terriss left the company, and
for the future made the Adelphi his headquarters.
But he was not allowed to leave his old compan-
ions without some tokens of the good fellowship
which existed between them. The company gave
him a very handsome loving cup, while the stage
hands presented him with a gold-mounted riding
whip.

It was in September, 1894, that he again
assumed his favourite character of Adelphi hero,
in Messrs. Haddon Chambers and B. C. Stephen-
son's drama, The Fatal Card, and his old ad-
mirers found him as much to their liking as
ever. His grand acting in the terrible murder

124

THE GIRL I LEFT BEHIND ME
From a Photo ty WINDOW & GROVE

'LIKUT, KEPFKLL" IN OXK OF T11R 11KST
From a Photo by the C mo tint l\)rtnrit Co,

HIS LAST ENGAGEMENTS

scene in this play will not readily be forgotten.
In The Girl I Left Behind Me, the play which
followed, he was described as being an object-
lesson to melodramatic actors. " Flow clear and
distinct fell every sentence ! How modulated,
careful, and unexaggerated was the trained style !
How picturesque was the actor's bearing and every
gesture ! There was a grip and command in each
sentence. He was vigorous and virile to the
backbone/'

The next production was the Swordsman s
Daughter, by Clement Scott and B. C. Stephen-
son, in December, 1895, and it will be remembered,
if for nothing else, as affording Terriss an oppor-
tunity for the grandest display of histrionic power
he had as yet given. In the third act, in which
the father, previously paralyzed, regains strength
at the news of his daughter's disgrace, by mere
force of will, in order to avenge the dishonour,
Terriss rose to the sublime. Following this came
One of the JSest, by George Edwards and Seymour
Hicks, and it did not require days, but merely
hours, before all London was rushing to see their

129

"LIEUT. DUDLEY KEPPELL" IN 0.\ T E OF THE BEST
From a Photo ly the Craotlni Portrait Co.

'LIEUT. DUDLEY KEPPELL ' IN ONE OF THE BEST

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

favourite as the handsome young officer " Lieu-
tenant Dudley Keppell."

The character of the hero is such as must
appeal to all. Those who witnessed the perform-
ance will never forget the debonair, bright-natured,
romantic, loving boy of Terriss in the first two
acts of the play, and the crushed man with the
bleeding heart, the man grey with grief, yet firm
and resolute in his terrible despair, in the third
most dramatic scene. It seems, as every honour
and medal is stripped and wrenched from him,
that it is his very flesh which is being torn
and lacerated. Involuntary sobs of stifled anguish
rise to the throat at such cruelly degrading treat-
ment of so splendid a soldier ; and then the last .
superbly triumphant entrance, when the dark clouds
of sorrow have been swept away, and there
is nothing left but silver one shining, radiant
gleam of silver for the troubled path is cleared
of thorns and pitfalls, and in their place stand
roses. It is all very human, and distinctly beau-
tiful in sentiment.

4 * Terriss was not William Terriss. He was

130

HIS LAST ENGAGEMENTS

young ' Lochinvar ' suddenly and mysteriously
he changed himself into a handsome Scottish lad
of five-and-twenty. By his presence, by his bear-
ing, by his voice, by his courtesy, and by that
one word so important on the stage charm he
breathed into this drama that spirit of romance
which the crusty, soured pessimists and 'cynics so
much deride."

In 1896, Boys Together was put on. The critic
of the Daily Mail, writing on the first perform-
ance, says:

" Messrs. Haddon Chambers and Comyns Carr
have written a play so thrilling and exciting that
the tension at times was almost painful. If it
be the province of the dramatist to grip an
audience in a vice, to make it hold its breath till
the curtain falls and the strain is released, and a
great shout of pleasure comes from pit and gallery
and stalls, then Boys Together has proved its
authors to be dramatists indeed. To have written
a play in which the ability of Mr. William Terriss
has such scope as it never had before is a triumph
of the writers ; to . have grasped to the full the

135

'GERALD AUSTIN" IN BOYS TOGETHER
From a Photo by W. & D. DOWNEY

'GERALD AUSTIN" IN BOYS TOGETHER
From a Photo by ALFRED ELLIS

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

splendid moments that the authors have provided

is a triumph for Mr. William Terriss. Never had

dramatists finer interpreter never had actor finer

chance. Mr. Terriss's success, the authors 7 success,

came from no subtle introspection, no acute analysis

of character, no Meissonier-like minuteness. It

came from splendid force, bold colour, an attack

that was masterly in its uncompromising directness

and strength. Boys Together is melodrama naked

and unshamed ; as melodrama let it be judged.

The new Adelphi play was written to interest and

amuse ; it fulfils this, its primary purpose, to the

full. But it has another and a more important

effect even than this. The great shout that went

up when Major Villars a prisoner in the Soudan

hears of the fall of Khartoum and refuses to-

believe the news to believe that England has

consented to desert Gordon, the bravest soldier

that ever breathed ; that, if his country has played

so mean a part, English blood and treasure will

sooner or later have to be spent to repair the fatal

blunder the great shout that went up was an

object-lesson in patriotism. The British public

136

, HIS LAST ENGAGEMENTS

does not forget, and fortune has favoured the
Adelphi management ; for the desert scene they
have given us with such truth and completeness,
the period they have revived, the time when
Gordon died, is to-day in the minds of us all.
Villars is bound, helpless, almost dying, to a rock ;
then conies one of the great scenes of the drama
Forsyth twits and insults him ; Villars prays to be
released; Forsyth leaves him to die, but his cords
are cut by Maryam, and he swears to her an oath to
be avenged. Here it was that Mr. Terriss roused
his audience to the supreme pitch of enthusiasm, as
well he deserved to do. Passion overcame his
weakness ; the voice that had been harshed and
cracked rang out again ; the frame that had been
bent by torture was straight once more. No more
startling a denunciation has been heard from the
stage than that delivered by Mr. William Terriss,
ere overcome by his weakness he faints. It may
safely be said at this moment the actor touched a
higher point than ever before. He carried the
house with him ; the curtain had to be raised again
and again. There were no half lights here no

''GERALD AUSTIN" IN 0KS- TOGETHER
From a Photo by t!u> Crartini Portrait Co.

'COMTE DE CANDALK" IN A MARRIAGE OF CONVENIENCE
Front a Photo by ALFRED ELLIS

HIS LAST ENGAGEMENTS

Many of those who have sat in the comfortable
stalls of the Adelphi Theatre and seen Terriss
battling with the stormy surf, left alone on rafts,
and undergoing the various vicissitudes incidental
to descriptive dramatic action, perhaps little knew
that he had passed through all these things in
real life. He could play the sailor to the life.

Perhaps no other actor known to this genera-
tion could have brought back to the Adelphi
such an antiquated example of theatrical produc-
tion as Black-Eyd Susan, yet Terriss' breezy air,
his rough-and-ready method, his ability to sing a
nautical ditty and to dance a hornpipe, and his
command of feeling, secured for the piece a long
run. On its withdrawal an American company
took possession of the theatre, and Terriss being
at liberty appeared at the Haymarket, in the
adaptation A Marriage of Convenience. In this,
as the " Comte de Candale," he showed he had
lost none of his gift of comedy, and after his
long course of melodrama it came as a relief to
him to appear once more in a part belonging to
his former line. The younger generation knew

147

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

restrained force. Mr, Terriss rose to the situation,
and carried everything before him."

Black-Eyd Susan was the next production, a
play which in these days has an old-fashioned

i-V'

.XtV

(From the Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News)

aroma, and yet a certain amount of charm for the
sea-loving inhabitants of England.

One of the greatest of our nautical writers has
said, "To know Jack you must have eaten with
him, slept with him, worked with him, and shared
in his hardships and in his joys."

142

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

him only as a melodramatic hero, and he was
pleased to have the opportunity of showing some
of his other talents. But his contract with the
Messrs. Gatti entailed his return to the Adelphi,
and In the Days of the Duke, by H addon
Chambers and Comyns Carr, showed him as an
elderly man in the prologue, and his assumption
of age won him a large amount of commendation.
This was his last original part. When the piece
failed to draw, a revival of the American play
Secret Service took place, and in this, as " Captain
Thorne," he made his last appearance. He had to
follow the successful feature in the original produc-
tion of the play, the author and actor, Mr. Gillett,
who is a master in the arts of pantomime and ex-
pression. He acquitted himself admirably. " He
could not, and he would not, forget the English
style that has endeared him to the public," says
the Daily Telegraph. " He was strong, powerful,
virile, dogged, and determined as ever; but he
scouted the idea that 'Captain Thorne/ plucky
devil as he was, had nerves. Never on his English
face it cannot be anything else was the worn,

148

/.V /7//i />./J.S (>/' fit!-. /TAVi
/Vvv// <z J'/ti>.\> I'y ALI-KKD ICi.i.is

HIS LAST ENGAGEMENTS

rassed, nervous expression of a man who turns
f for the love of country. William Terriss is

frank that he cannot suggest intrigue in any
m or shape. His ' Captain Thorne ' is a
wnright, determined, devil-may-care fellow, as
xmg as a lion, but with no suspicion of the
ake about him. Yet ' Captain Thorne ' must
: in some remote way connected with a snake,
r is he not a spy ? But these delicacies of criti-
>m did not affect an Adelphi audience in the
ist. They had got their Terriss, and he loved
. honest girl, and he was shot in the hand by

rival, and like Jim Bludso, he did his duty
id 'went for it thar and then/ and that was
lite enough for the pit.' 1

It was during the run of this piece that his
reer was so suddenly, so tragically ended, and
the waves of regret, horror, and sorrow that
fept over England, aye, and America as well, on
ceipt of the sad news, none was more sincere
id more heartfelt than that originating in the
iarts of his old friends the Adelphi audiences.
y them he was simply adored; he was their

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

hero, no matter what character he was playing,
and for him they chiefly looked, no matter what
the play might be. In stalls and boxes, pit and
gallery, it was the same thing ; they one and all
pinned their faith on Terriss, and Terriss did not
disappoint them. He had been the recipient of
rings sent round by infatuated ladies, and bunches
of flowers had been thrust into his hand on his
way to the stage-door by servant-girls, with timid
requests that he would accept them. Nor was
the devotion to be wondered at.

He was cheery, he was electric, he was sym-
pathetic ; when he came upon the scene he
brightened everything. If the audience had lapsed
into lethargy, he was the one to arouse it, and
to stir his colleagues to impulse. He felt what
he did, and meant what he said. He was held
in good faith by the public ; he never took a
liberty with them, and never let his interest flag
the last night as well as the first, to good houses
or to bad, he never lost the grip of his part.

He might have played one character better than
another, but he was never known to scamp his

HIS LAST ENGAGEMENTS

work, or to fail to give any part in which he
appeared nerve, muscle, and fibre.

He never seemed destined to bid farewell to
youth in any character he impersonated. He was
the embodiment of health, life, sparkle, and manly
vigour.

To the public he was an ideal. Somehow he
had the knack of bringing into the atmosphere
of our daily and sometimes disheartening life a
vitality and a fascination that were absolutely in-
fectious.

Terriss was a host in himself. He was one of
our most typical English actors, and the familiar
adjective of " Breezy " bestowed upon him was
characteristic of the man and the artist. Such a
temperament as this, buoyant and optimistic, was
of great value to a popular theatre. He was an
actor incapable of pulling a long face.

An audience was instinctively the better for
an Adelphi play with a deep draught of Terriss
thrown in.

153

CHAPTER VI
HOME LIFE AND CHARACTER

npERRISS would often tell his friends that
* he found the chief source of enjoyment in his
tranquil home life. "The Cottage" in Bedford
Park savours of rusticity and repose. It is a little
building, with red gabled roof and latticed win-
dows, situated "far from the madding, crowd."

The interior is a perfect picture gallery. Close
to the porch door hangs a portrait of the host
as " Squire Thornhill," flanked by photographs of
Mr. Henry Pettitt and Messrs. Agostino and Ste-
fano Gatti. The stained glass barely allows you to
decipher the inscription, " To dear Terriss, in kind
remembrance of old times, Sincerely yours, Henry
Irving," on an engraving of Hamlet, which seems
to guard the staircase ; and in two groups hard
by you recognise " Dear Terriss " again, not in

154

"THE COTTAGE," BEDFORD PARK

MRS. TERRISS

TERRISS'S YOUNGEST SON

THE LATE MRS. G. H. LEWIN
(TERRISS'S MOTHER)

HOME LIFE AND CHARACTER

any famous character, as you might reasonably
suppose, but firstly in his shirt-sleeves as an
active member of the West London Quoit Club,
and secondly with his friends the late Sir Augustus
Harris and James Fernandez, as the life and
soul of an autumn outing of the Drury Lane
Fund to Burnham Beeches.

When you paid him a visit, and your name
was announced, there was no waiting to be
ushered into his study, but he came out to greet
you himself, and would hail you and welcome
you to Bedford Park in that melodious voice which
has given pleasure to thousands.

He would carry you off with him for a tour
round the back garden, where you would meet
with a series of surprises.

When Terriss first located himself at " The
Cottage " he planted an apple tree, in which he
manifested the greatest interest. It blossomed in
profusion, and he predicted that it would be a
prolific tree. But a bitter frost played such havoc
with those blossoms that, to a great extent, his
interest relaxed for a time, but was restored on his

157

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

finding a sample of fruit thereon. This, the only
apple, ripened, and was at length placed on the
table ; and those who partook of it (he shared it out
equally) were more than once reminded by Terriss
that " I grew this in my own garden, and don't
you forget it."

A visit to his cherished aviary of singing birds
might probably follow ; thence your steps would
be directed to the cosy drawing-room, and on the
Chinese cabinet being opened, he would show
you his medals, faded portraits of himself as a
Blue Coat boy, midshipman, etc., and miniatures
taken in early days. He would ask you to go
over his picture gallery, containing portraits of
Clement Scott, G. R. Sims, and a host of friends
unknown to the stage and literature. You would
admire his paintings by some old masters, and
he would not forget to point out the Loving-
Cup, which occupies a prominent place on the
mantelpiece. Passing from this apartment he
would manifest considerable pride as he referred
you to his family group and ancestors which hang
in the hall.

158

HOME LIFE AND CHARACTER

Ascending the Queen Anne staircase, he would
take you to his tiny study and hand you the cigar-
box. Here you were prepared for a stroll round
Bedford Park. To the inhabitants of this resi-
dential suburb he was a familiar figure. Terriss
on the stage was most elegant in clress, but off
it a thorough Bohemian in attire. As often as
not he wore a tweed suit with a soft- crowned hat
resting lightly on his head ; and not one in a
hundred of his admirers would have recognised
in him the spruce and dainty-looking hero of the
Adclphi.

In half an hour or so you were seated in the
snuggest of parlours. Here he kept his books
and papers. Terriss had many irons in the fire,
and up to a certain point was a remarkably shrewd
business man ; but by some he was considered too
cautious in his dealings to be a really successful
financier. He took care always to be on the
safe side. You could seldom get him to talk
" shop. n If you happened to catch him in the
right humour, he would tell you that he took
an eminently business-like view of his profession,

T59

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

and that he would do his best to amuse in the
capacity of a clown, if fate were to cast him for
such a part.

He owed everything to his own perseverance
and hard work. He had no favours shown him,
and no one to help him to achieve popularity.
His motto was " Carpe diem"

Speaking of the art, he declared that his sym-
pathies were entirely with the late Sir Augustus
Harris, and that he thoroughly believed in the
motto, " A fair field and no favour. " Art as a
means to the end was all very well. It was
useful, like the fourth wheel of a coach, but It
would not of itself drive the coach. Give him
a theatre worked on a sound commercial basis,
interspersed with art occasionally if you liked
as a dressing he believed it to be useful.

He also held that there was as much art in
portraying the feelings in melodrama as in the
most classical drama. He considered Harbmr
Lights as important a play and as difficult to act
as many others deemed more classic.

At the same time he was a great lover of his

160

HOME LIFE AND CHARACTER

profession, although he was constantly speaking
against it. He had a kind, soft, generous heart,
even if he sometimes put on a hard, selfish
appearance. His great horror was to be thought
sentimental. After his death, among the many
hundreds of letters of sympathy and regret which
were received by his family was one from an
unknown woman, telling how he had met her
one night, and by his kindly aid and advice she
had been saved from premeditated suicide, and was
then earning her living in a respectable manner. *

A needy actor, with a parcel, under his arm
to whom Terriss had often shown acts, of friend-
ship, cannoned against him one day in the
Strand.

" Hullo, dear boy, what the devil are you doing
now ? " asked Terriss.

" I've done with the stage and am travelling
in wall papers."

" Why, are you still out of an engagement?"
asked Terriss. " Come to my office, and I'll

give you a note to take round to M ," naming

a well-known actor-manager.

163

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

A note was written, and the other prepared to
take it.

Terriss glanced at his appearance, which, to
put it mildly, lacked an air of prosperity. Taking*
off his gold watch and chain, and detaching the
button-hole from his coat,

"Put these on; they'll smarten you up a bit/'
he said.

And as the impecunious one was going out of
the door, Terriss added,

" Here, you can't go round with the parcel of
wall papers. Leave them with me. I'll look
after them. Perhaps I'll book you some orders/'

The applicant was successful in obtaining the
desired engagement, and having returned and
thanked Terriss for his kindness, the elated man
was about to leave the dressing-room, when
Terriss yelled out,

" Hi, you're not going to purloin my personal
property ! Give me back the watch and chain,
and the button-hole/'

The watch and chain were at once returned, but
the possessor was reluctant to part with the button-

164

HOME LIFE AND CHARACTER

hole, and asked if he might keep it. Terriss
turned to his confreres who were with him, and
remarked, good-naturedly,

" I got the man an engagement, became a com-
mercial traveller in the wall-paper line on his
behalf, lent him my personal property, and now the
bounder wants to sneak my button-hole." But he
gave it him all the same ; and the man still has
it in his possession.

He was very unostentatious in his generosity,
and above all things endeavoured to spare a poorer
mans feelings. He often had friends, not so well
off as himself, playing cards with him at Bedford
Park, and though he would adapt the stakes to
their means, still if he thought they had lost more
than was convenient to them, he would quietly put
half a sovereign or so under their plates when
they afterwards sat down to supper. And in the
case of others, who perhaps had some way to go
home, he would slip some silver into the pockets
of their overcoats, "just to pay for the cab," so
that they might find it afterwards, and not know
where it had come from.

165

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

He was a most methodical man, and at home
would have everything in its proper place. He
considered confusion a heinous sin, and would treat
the party guilty of it accordingly.

A true Bohemian, he found the usages of the
most polite society just a little irksome.

He revelled in chess and cards, and excelled in
both, while in later years he took up cycling as an
outside pastime. In his youth he was a " sprinter"
of very high calibre, and few men could beat him
at a hundred yards. His fame as a swimmer is
pretty generally known, but the following cutting"
from a local paper may not be without interest :

" A swimming handicap, which created consider-
able interest, took place on Thursday, September
9th, 1869, at the Marylebone Baths, the prize being
a handsome silver cup, which, after a spirited con-
test, was won by Mr. William Terriss. Since the
race the gentlemen frequenters of these baths have
formed themselves into a club, to be called * The
Leander,' and which already numbers sixty mem-
bers." Terriss was their first captain.

He all along sought to drill into the minds

166

hOMT LIFE AXD CHARACTER

il. i s *~\ .\t >:^ r:i~:i f their be-
,; ^ 1 - < . :i -: :: 1 v.h>tVr they agreed
*li ,; ' : i r: * 1: t. h -r-lsttj J in having

. V" k *: :*: . ' y- \\ - rjr^ young, he
.::." - * r v -t - i^lL'y w::.! th*-i object of
: . : :r .:. }Li\ : ij ^ t well out to sea,
, . : 1 ^ : tl, Ir I> ^-rg/ \VIti reluctance
y ^ M ' ": -: T .ry -.1 rt.y f 11 1 themselves in
i . " ; . ^':t, f ^rrl>- A^S :r l ;.- clement, and
i' -* It- ; r: 4 w ty f *hyvln l; : s offsprings
i * : . - t ' * 1 * -v - 1 ..i.l^r t % circumstances
u!V :. t } \\ >* n-n ;!^trl H^ was, how-
^ , *r 1'^ .1 u : 1 t" r, t > ,;i thr ^jgh the lesson*
: " :* \\ A - c *llj; 1 ,: ^i tj r^s-j'j tn^ pair, who
:: :..* .r f.tl & -e rel^se J their hold of
^:^L itwis r t ,.nt:l positively
4,h^t hj \\ *j!d ii/:v them to
s :n the b *t ^r.J nake tracks
lit? t jj^lit his daughter in the
* stc..rL j d th* vjiin^: lady bv a

On** d.} in August, iSSf, uff the South Fore-
nu t three lads were bathing, one of whom got

167

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

out too far, and was seized with cramp before he
could reach the shore. He cried out for assistance,
which his two companions were not able to render.
It so happened that Terriss and his son Tom
were yachting in the vicinity, and Terriss, seeing
the poor fellow in distress, lowered the lugsail, and
without divesting himself of clothing", jumped over-
board. He seized the lad just in the nick of time.
A gallant rescue of two children from drowning
by Terriss was also reported from Barnes. It
appears that a child fell into the river, and a lad
jumped in to endeavour to save it. Both were
sinking, when Terriss swam to them and got them
out. He was the recipient of two medals from
the Royal Humane Society.

In connection with his aquatic performances, it
may not be but of place to recall one of his many
jokes. He and a brother, who was also an expert
swimmer, were spending the week-end at one of our
favourite watering-places on the South Coast, and
while on the pier Terriss induced his relative to
do a little gymnastic exercise on the rail, with the
result that the gentleman, somehow or other, fell

168

HOME LIFE AND CHARACTER

overboard. Terriss appeared greatly distressed,
and called loudly for help. Naturally a large crowd
soon gathered round the spot, and numbers of
people were exceedingly active in lowering life-
buoys to the man in peril below. " I will save
my friend, if I die in the attempt," cried Terriss,
at the same time divesting himself of his coat, and
plunging in. He soon reached his brother, bring-
ing him ashore in triumph. The Humane Society,
it is said, heard of what they considered an act of
bravery, and would have made their usual presen-
tation had not Terriss disclosed the premeditated
joke.

Terriss was justly proud of his clear-cut face,
and also of his slim, manly figure. A few days
before his death he told Dr. Edmund Owen that
he had recently received a violent shock. As he
was coming up Regent Street in the bright light
of a morning sun, two ladies passed in front of
him, and 9ne of them said, loud enough for him to
hear, " That's Terriss ! Goodness me ! How old
he looks!"

For racing he did not seem to have the least

171

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

taste, and when any one asked him what horse he
was going to back, he would say, "I'm going to
back a little filly I've often backed before ; I've
never won anything on it, yet, strange to say,
I've -never lost a penny." " Oh, whatever horse
is that? "might have been the inquiry. "A little
filly called Common Sense, ridden by Tommy
Let-it-alone/' was the invariable answer.

He was exceedingly slow in studying a part,
and always did the work in bed, late at night, or
early in the morning.

Another peculiarity of his was that he would
never have a play read to him, but on a MS.
being submitted, he would carefully go through
it, and write his opinion on the outside. One of
the last letters, if not the last, he ever wrote,
was to an old friend in connection with this very
subject.

"ADELPHI THEATRE,

" Glad to hear from you. I would not have
a MS. read to me if there were millions in it.

172

HOME LIFE AND CHARACTER

end it on, and I will run through it. Wishing
DU every success. With love.

" Your old friend,

"WiLL TERRISS."

Of course round such a popular actor as Terriss
lany a story and romance grew up. For instance,

was said he had been in the Royal Navy, had
een shipwrecked, had been at Oxford, had been

doctor, and many other fictions, and it was his
leasure to foster them, rather than deny them,
ntil he grew almost to believe them true him-
::lf, and many a good story he told, fitting the
ap to himself, whose origin, had it been sifted
ut, would have been found to be rather more in
ction than fact. But of the romances woven
round his name by others than himself, the fol-
:>wing, overheard one evening in the Adelphi, is
fair sample. The narrator was a lady, who,
Bearing her neighbours speak of Terriss, intcr-
osecl with : " Yes, is he not splendid ? So good
Doking ; but such a sad life, my dears, such a
ad life is his. Some years ago, when he was

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

quite young, he was in Paris, gazing at the
Venus of Milo, when a young girl came up and
also gazed at the same object. Terriss turned,
and then started, and looked earnestly at her, for
she was the most beautiful being he had ever
seen well, it was the old, old story. He managed
to get an introduction, and before a fortnight had
passed they were engaged. Soon he had to go
back to London to fulfil his engagement ; she
stayed behind to study art under one of the great
French masters. Six months elapsed, and Terriss
received a note from her, breaking off the en-
gagement, but giving no sufficient reason. He
hurried off to Paris, but could find no trace of
her or her guardian. He never saw her again,
for within a year she died, sending him a letter
explaining all. She was the daughter of some
great criminal, and had never known this until
the day she wrote to him, saying she loved him
too well to bring him dishonour. Terriss has
never married ; he will never speak to a woman
if he can help it ; and he never acts upon the
day she died."

174

HOME LIFE AND CHARACTER

" Thoroughness was the dominant quality in
the nature of William Terriss," writes a very old
friend of his, "in his business relations, artistic
connections, friendships and affections that one
word covered all thoroughness."

If he had not genius in the sense we under-
stand it, he had the capacity for taking infinite
pains, and he was ever ready to listen to suggestions,
and try his best to carry out the ideas of others. He
did not, as many actors do with small ability and
self-confidence, "pooh-pooh" an author or manager's
wishes ; and I well remember the late Mr. W. G.
Wills, saying to me of Terriss after a rehearsal
of Olivia at the Court Theatre : "He will do ; he
listens to suggestions, and tries to work out what
we want/'

Now and then Terriss put his spoke into the
wheel of an academic controversy, and mostly a
good sound workmanlike spoke it was. When the
conduct of the demonstrative " first-nighters " was
the subject of discussion in the Era, Terriss ranged
himself on the side of the "first-nighter," de-
claring frankly that he liked to be applauded, but

175 i

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

also he admitted the right of the " first-nighter "
to hiss. " It's all very well," he said, "to claim
the indulgence due to ladies and gentlemen; but
artists should remember that they are actors 01
actresses when they are on the boards ; and ii
they wish to be treated as ladies and gentlemen
only, they had better remain in that privacy witli
which the public have no right to interfere, anc
where they will be alike free from public applause
and public censure." A sentiment which Mr
Punch labelled "" Number One Adelphi Terriss.'
And he hit the right nail on the head in a lette:
of his to the Daily Telegraph on the Shakespeare
Bacon controversy, in which the lines of Terriss'
argument might have had for their text the word
which Thomas a Kempis wrote long ago : " Searcl
not who spoke this or that, but mark what i
spoken. u Terriss argued sensibly and bluntly t
this effect, that it did not matter a sou wh
wrote the marvellous collection of plays whic
have been handed down to us through such
length of time as the works of William Shake
speare ; and that if it could be proved to-morrov

176

HOME LIFE AND CHARACTER

beyond the slightest possibility of doubt, that
they were written by Bacon or Burleigh or
Queen Elizabeth, we should not be really one
jot the happier or the wiser. We have got the
plays ; they were our precious, imperishable pos-
session. Why should we care two straws as to the
precise nomenclature of the dead-and-gone man
of genius who penned them? As well waste our
time in bewailing" the MSS. from Shakespeare's
hands that may have perished in the flames
through the carelessness of a general servant ; as
well hunt after the authorship of the Book of
Job, or weary our spirits in seeking to identify
Kohclcth.

177

CHAPTER VII
HIS DEATH AND BURIAL

npERRISS had laid down his plans for the
* future. He contemplated a twelve weeks'
tour of the suburban and provincial theatres, to
be followed by a tour through South Africa and
Australia.

He often said that after this was accomplished
he would retire from the stage. He had made
the proverbial golden egg, and it was his de-
sire to enjoy the rest of his life in country
surroundings.

He did not believe in lasting glory, but rather
that, whatever a reputation an actor might make,
and to what summit he might rise, both he and his
work would soon be forgotten.

An actor's popularity being of such an ephemeral
nature, so short lived, he held it better to bid adieu

178

HIS DEATH AND BURIAL

to a generous play-going public whilst still fresh and
in favour, instead of lagging on until he became a
decrepit old gentleman.

On the other hand he considered that the results
of the work of a great actor, like Henry Irving for
instance, would always be felt, but such as his own
could not possibly leave behind a mark for good or
evil.

He was not, however, permitted to carry out his
plan, for his career of adventure and honest good
work closed with awful suddenness on the evening
of the 1 6th of December, 1897. ^ e an d a friend
were about to enter the private door of the Adelphi
Theatre, where he w T as playing in Secret Service,
when a maniac's stab put an end to this gay, this
generous, this admirable life.

Nature in mournful unison with man responded
to the keynote of sadness struck in countless hearts
by the last solemn rites accompanying the inter-
ment, which took place a few days afterwards
at Brompton Cemetery, where so many of our
popular heroes and heroines of the stage sleep in
peace.

181

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

It may be said with truth that the funeral was
the occasion of one of the greatest public demon-
strations of sympathy and respect that London has
ever seen.

Not only the heads of the dramatic profession, in
which he was so universally loved, not only the
representatives of literature and journalism, but
members of every art and craft passed through
those mournful gates to pay a last tribute of respect
and veneration at the grave of one who, if not a
comrade, was at least a friend.

Her Majesty the Queen expressed her sympathy
in an eloquent autograph letter addressed to the
family as follows :

" The Queen sends her condolence and deep
sympathy to Mrs. William Terriss and family in
their sad bereavement. She deeply feels the loss
which has robbed the English stage of one of its
brightest ornaments/'

^His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales con-
tributed a wreath, while other floral tributes num-
bered over one thousand, the forms and colours of
which were as striking as their number and beauty.

182

THE LATE GEORGE HERBERT LEW1N, BARRISTER-AT-LAW
(TERRISS'S FATHER)

HIS DEATH AND BURIAL

There were a ship, and a steering wheel, a globe
resting on a Union Jack, and bearing the words,
" All the world's a stage," a ladder typical of fame,
shields, harps, lyres, cushions, anchors, broken pil-
lars, and innumerable crosses.

The coffin bore the simple inscription :

WILLIAM CHARLES JAMES LEWIN,

Died 1 6th December, 1897,

Aged 49 years.

When the last solemn words of the ritual had
been spoken, the chaplain delivered a brief but
eloquent address in praise of the departed actor,
and of the profession of which he had been so
worthy an ornament. Coming through the streets,
the speaker said, he had passed through the ranks
of a great crowd animated with a single thought
one of deep respect for the dead, and affectionate
sympathy with the friends of him who had gone.
It would afford consolation to those whom William
Terriss held dear to realize the heartfelt sorrow
with which all London the whole country re-

185

p^^t^-* >

From a Photo by ALFRED ELLIS

HIS DEATH AND BURIAL

" Which of us who are gathered together could
by any possibility have dreamt that such a call
would have summoned us here ? It is all so
sudden and so cruel. One of us, in the very midst
of life, health, usefulness, and the esteem of
those around him, has been struck down by this
cowardly hand. The horror of it flashed through
London from east to west, and linked east and west
in one common sorrow. The very irony of such a
thing appalled us. I think, among all the great
testimony which has been pouring out in his
memory and honour, there are two passages you
must have seen one, * I did not know that he had
an enemy in life, 1 and the other, 'I would have
risked twenty lives to have saved him.' These
sayings are typical of those who knew and loved
him best. The manner of it, too, it seems as if we
cannot get it out of our minds. The word assassina-
tion is, thank God, almost unknown in this England
of ours. May it ever remain so. But it Is not that
of which you would have me to speak in addressing
a few words to you this morning. It is rather of
himself. A generous, kindly soul has gone. No

189

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

garded their loss. Those who were the late actor's
comrades in art those who worked with him in
" the same great profession" knew all and more
than he could tell them of the dead man. If they
were doing their duty in that noble calling, they
would feel that their reward was always to be found
in the appreciation of the public. They must needs
derive great satisfaction from the approval of those
who called them to the portrayal of the complexities
of human life. Their dead friend they were now
leaving in the hands of the Almighty, and that was
the only keeping to which those who were left
behind would entrust him.

Words like these, spoken with deep feeling and
conviction, drew their inevitable tribute of tears.
It was with moist and trembling eyelids that women
and men alike turned from the grave where they
had laid their departed brother. Sorrow sat upon
each brow as the great congregation slowly dis-
persed and left the dead actor to his long rest.

A beautiful and impressive memorial service was
held at the Chapel Royal, Savoy, at which the same
clergyman spoke the following appreciation :

186

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

longer shall we have those splendid, manly repre-
sentations of life as it is, as it may be, as
imagination may picture it before us. There is
something that has always very much interested
us in his work. We all at heart have a great
regard for that old Adelphi and the pieces we have
had there for years past, since the time when we
became playgoers, and we know how careful and
good all his efforts were in his own great profession.
But outside that, it is always said of you members
of the dramatic profession that you are a warm-
hearted, enthusiastic, and generous people. From
my own experience I can testify how true it is. I
know what you do when some of you go down in
the battle of life. I know what ready help you
give, and know that at the moment of your success
you think of the dark days which life may have
in store. I know your estimate of each other ; it
is as generous as it possibly can be. I know that
the brotherhood and sisterhood which exist
between you are of the closest and kindliest ; and
it must be a delight to you to see the outside
public recognising all this in connection with one

190

HIS DEATH AND BURIAL

f the well-known and leading members of your
ody. It must be a delight to you that the gifts
rfiich he possessed carry with them their impres-
ion on the public mind, and raise the whole status
.nd dignity of the actors profession. He is not
lead. He doth not sleep. He has awakened
rom the dream of life. I grant you that, as men
ind women, and as Christians, it needs all the
>ower that is within us to rise to the full measure
>f our faith at such a moment. It is very hard to
;ay, ' It is well/ We can only do it in the sense
hat we leave our dead friend in the hands of the
jreat Father who loves and pities each one of us,
;he God who measures the value of each life as no
nan or woman among us can ever measure our
icts, wishes, deeds, and intentions. And I think
:hat from this gathering, to which you have come
with hearts full of sorrow and sympathy, you will
;*o away strengthened. It seems to me only the
other day we sat here together, and that I was
privileged to address a few words to you on the
death of poor Charles Riley. Even if I repeat
what I said then, I say you must go back

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

strengthened after such a gathering as this, feeling
that your art has such a power in it, that in the
steady adherence to duty and the best interpreta-
tion of those wonderful dramas and scenes which
are in the hands of modern players, you have a
great trust, and that if you carry out that trust as
a real thing you have a most generous public to
witness your work. You will then ever have most
appreciative audiences, because they know that
there is the best teaching to be found in those
scenes of human life which you portray. You
feel, not only that sympathy and interest, but the
obligation you have to the public. That public
is ever ready enough to give you back generously
to give you back your measure running over. Go
back to your life, strengthened in the sense that
this dead man's kindly life has made a deep
impression, not only upon all of you who have
been his partners in the work, but has sunk deeply
into the hearts of our English people. "

CHAPTER VIII
BREEZY BILL

his fellow-actors and companions the above
was one of the familiar names by which he
r as known, and he appeared to do his best to
eserve it ; but there were a few, a very few, to
r hom he displayed the other side of his character,
side the world at large knew nothing of. He
r as not always the merry, jovial, restless spirit
eople imagined him ; there were times when he
Ilowed the inner side of his character to be seen,
r hen he gave way to strong emotion, and when
e suffered his deeper nature to come to the sur-
ice. But these occasions were rare. He thought,
nd he felt deeply, but those thoughts and feelings
e kept, for the most part, to himself. It seemed
Imost as if he were anxious that the world should
:now him only in his lighter moods, and as if

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

strengthened after such a gathering as this, feeling
that your art has such a power in it, that in the
steady adherence to duty and the best interpreta-
tion of those wonderful dramas and scenes which
are in the hands of modern players, you have a
great trust, and that if you carry out that trust as
a real thing you have a most generous public to
witness your work. You will then ever have most
appreciative audiences, because they know that
there is the best teaching to be found in those
scenes of human life which you portray. You
feel, not only that sympathy and interest, but the
obligation you have to the public. That public
is ever ready enough to give you back generously
to give you back your measure running* oven Go
back to your life, strengthened in the sense that
this dead man's kindly life has made a deep
impression, not only upon all of you who have
been his partners in the work, but has sunk deeply
into the hearts of our English people. 5 '

CHAPTER VIII
BREEZY BILL

T^O his fellow-actors and companions the above
was one of the familiar names by which he
r as known, and he appeared to do his best to
eserve it ; but there were a few, a very few, to
rhom he displayed the other side of his character,
side the world at large knew nothing of. He
ras not always the merry, jovial, restless spirit
eople imagined him ; there were times when he
llowed the inner side of his character to be seen,
'hen he gave way to strong emotion, and when
e suffered his deeper nature to come to the sur-
ice. But these occasions were rare. He thought,
nd he felt deeply, but those thoughts and feelings
e kept, for the most part, to himself. It seemed
Imost as if he were anxious that the world should
.now him only in his lighter moods, and as if

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

his somewhat mournful and sombre moments were
intended for himself alone. His daughter's very
serious illness, and the death of her baby, affected
him deeply; and as the little coffin was being;
lowered into the vault where his mother and he
himself now rest, he said to his brother, "Ah,
Bob, I feel it won't be long before I shall join
her" (meaning his mother).

The Sunday before his death, while at dinner
with his family, he told them of a man who had
died suddenly of heart disease. By the dramatic
way in which he acted the last motion of the man
he frightened his wife, and more so when he
added, with much emphasis ".A splendid death
to die; no lingering illness, no bedside agonies,
no doctors, no cries, moans, or tears, heartrending
to all ; but peace, perfect peace."

Death was a subject on which he would fre-
quently converse; he had no horror nor fear of
it, though he seemed to be shadowed by presenti-
ment, and was a thorough believer in predestina-
tion, In connection with this his old friend Mr.
B. Fargeon writes : I never heard him utter an

194

From a Photo by WINDOW & GROVB

BREEZY BILL

unamiable word, and it often struck me that in
his views of life and death, which I may mention
was a theme upon which he constantly spoke,
there was a greater depth than he was generally
credited with." Some few weeks before his death,
Mrs. Terriss was reading the notices of Charlotte
Corday in the Daily Telegraph, and she happened
to say she thought the part of " Marat" would
suit him excellently.

He shuddered at the idea, and said: "Ah, no!
horrible ! I could not bear that scene with the
knife ; to be stabbed like that seems terrible. I
should not like to take that part"

And this sober side was not merely the out-
come of mature years ; even in the careless days
of his youth it was present, if not often visible.
One of his very old friends supplies two incidents
that well illustrate this. He says :

" My very first recollection of him (Terriss,
dating about 1865) gives me the picture of a
handsome and decided young man stepping be-
tween and separating two working-men engaged
in fistic encounter. There must have been some

197

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

magnetism about him, for a moment after he laid
his hands upon their shoulders and said a few
quiet words to them, one combatant silently de-
parted in one direction and the other by another
route.

" Another incident I well remember. It oc-
curred in 1869; I think it was 1869. A pair-
oared race, a friendly contest, had been arranged
between two crews. Dr. Friend Lewin (Terriss'
brother), a very powerful oar, and Mr. William
Dawson, one of Terriss 1 oldest and most valued
friends, manned one of the boats, whilst poor
Terriss (stroke) and myself (bow) were their
opponents.

" In preparation for this race we were accus-
tomed to take a daily pull over the course. One
morning, a bright morning in early summer, we
landed for a few minutes, leaving our boat beside
a landing-stage. When we had returned, and
were re-seated with the small boy who steered
us, trimly prepared for his responsibilities, the
young man who looked after the boats gave us
a push off. Such a push off that it nearly upset

198

BREEZY BILL

the boat. Terriss turned to me and said, 'Pull
in, old man.'

" This done, he stepped from the boat, and,
seizing the man by the collar, exclaimed :

"'You scoundrel! because you were not satis-
fied with the money I gave you, you tried to
upset our boat. That would not have hurt my
friend or myself, but it might have drowned that
little boy/

" The man turned deathly pale, whilst the ex-
pression of his countenance and faltering attempt
at a denial of the charge left little room for doubt
that his guilty intention had been seen through,
though for charity's sake I cannot bring myself
to believe that he contemplated a fatal catas-
trophe to crown his malignancy.

"With a superb movement of disdain, and a
gesture full of expression, Terriss released his
hold of the churl with the words :

" ' I spare you this time. Live and learn to
be a man.'

"As I recall this incident, I cannot resist the
reflection that Terriss 1 success upon the stage was

199 K

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

in considerable measure due to the fact that he
had not in heroic situations to 'assume a virtue.
What has been termed ' sublimated' Intonation
and gesture was really natural to the mart himself
"In no scene subsequently played by him on
the boards was there finer treatment of a situa-
tion shown than on that summer's morning when,
long before the day of his theatrical successes, his
own individuality, then histrionically untrained,
gave so effective an object-lesson in those indis-
pensable symbols of the greatest histrions, vi^:.,
facial expression, voice, and gesture."

But it was in the brighter side of his character
that Terriss was best known to his friends and
acquaintances. Above all he was a terrible practical
joker ; even his intimates and relations never felt
safe. His own brother said : " I never knew what
he would be up to next ; he was certain to have you
before long." And the more completely he d&
have you, the greater was his delight. Dr. George

Field thus relates one of his early freaks :

"When we were one day walking out together
he remarked, < You see that nice old lady with the

200

BREEZY BILL

diite curls coming along. I am going to kiss her.'
\nd without more ado, he went up to the old
lame and kissed her. To the naturally indignant
exclamation, * How dare you, sir ! ' Terriss, not

whit abashed, and with the self-command of a
>erfect actor, replied,

" 'Your name, I think, is Jones.'

"' Nothing of the sort/ she cried; 'my name
3 Smith.' I forget now whether this was her
:xact cognomen.

" ' Oh/ said he, ' I have made a most unfortunate
mistake. I quite thought you were my grand-
mother ; you are the very image of her.'

"Whereupon he took off his hat, and was so
>rofuse in his apologies that, before he left her,
he old lady beamed with smiles, and appeared
[uite enchanted with his politeness/'

His brother Bob (Friend) was the constant
ictim of his jokes, and the following are only

few samples out of a large stock :

" I and Will had one day occasion to go up to
lie Agricultural Hall at Islington, and we travelled
y 'bus. The interior was pretty full, but there was

201

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

one seat at the far end which I took possession of,
while Will seated himself close to the door. Away
we rumbled, and whether it was that I was tired, or
that the 'bus was close, I don't know, but I felt very
drowsy, and commenced nodding*. I ought to
mention that I was anything but smartly dressed
that day, having on a rough suit of tweed, and wear-
ing a cap. I had not been taking my ease very
long before I heard the words, ' My Lord F uttered
in well-known tones. A cold shiver ran clown my
back at the sound. Heaven only knew what was
coming next, and I felt my one course was to feign
sleep. But it was no good ; I might have saved
myself the trouble. Again the words were repeated,
this time somewhat louder, * My Lord ! ' and on my
refusing to take any notice, I heard the request :
' Might I trouble you, sir, just to touch that gentle-
man in the corner.' There was no help for It now \
I had to wake, which I did in as natural a manner
as I could assume, with the query, Eh, well ; what
is it? Eh? 5 I merely wished to inquire, my
Lord, whether it was at The Angel public house
you wished to get out?' replied Will, with the

202

AT 30
From a Photo by W. & D. DOWNEY

BREEZY BILL

aost gravity. Imagine my feelings, dressed as
;hen was !

:t On another occasion my brother and I were
veiling in a third-class smoking carriage from
Dolwich to Charing Cross. The compartment
s quite full of workmen. Will was sitting
Dosite me, and apparently in the best of health,
en I suddenly saw his eyes close, and his
uth begin to twitch. I was horrified, for I
*w only too well what was coming ; but I
:tended not to notice anything, and gazed out of
; window. But almost immediately I received a
Ige in the side, and my next-door neighbour said,
>ay, your mate's took bad, I think.' I was forced
look then. ' Oh, it's nothing/ I replied ; ' it will
>n pass off ; leave him alone.' Will probably
ird this, for the facial contortions were redoubled,
1 the other occupants of the carriage were seri-
;ly alarmed. ' Here, I say,' exclaimed one,
>u must do something for him ; he's dying.' I at-
ipted to make light of it, but general opinion was
dnst me, and I was compelled, while leaning over
I shaking him, to whisper : ' For heaven's sake,

205

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

Will, come to again ; it's getting beyond a joke.'
And my brother acceded to my request, and in the
most natural manner recovered his senses. I was
congratulating myself on having thus got out of an
unpleasant predicament, for the workmen, misjudg-
ing my indifference, had summed me up as an
unfeeling brute, and were inclined to be nasty, when
to my horror I saw Will feigning a second and
a far more violent fit. It was one of the
truest pieces of imitation I have ever witnessed.
I had to become a most unwilling actor myself
now, in order to restore him to consciousness, and
the end of it was that, instead of continuing our
journey to Charing Cross, our fellow-travellers
compelled me to take my brother out at Cannon
Street, in order to convey him as quickly as possible
to the nearest hospital.

" Another time I was travelling with him on the
Underground, our only companion being an old
gentleman busily engaged with his paper opposite
us. We hadn't proceeded very far, when Will,
with a glance at our companion, leant towards me
and said in a loud stage whisper, ' It's Snodgrass.'

206

BREEZY BILL

' Oh no, it isn't/ I replied, nervous as to what was
coming. ' Oh yes, it is ; Fm sure of it It must
be ' ; and then, as I endeavoured to stop him, he
bent forward towards the gentleman and said :
f Pardon me, sir, but your name's Snodgrass, I
think?' ' No/ said the old gentleman; 'you've
made a mistake ; it's So-and-so.' ' Not Snodgrass !
Really. Well, I never saw so remarkable a likeness.
He was an old schoolfellow of ours. I could have
sworn you were he. It is curious ; you must allow
me to shake hands with you.' This the gentleman
did. * Now, Bob, you must shake hands with him
too ; isn't it a remarkable likeness ? ' And I had to
go through the farce of shaking hands with a
perfect stranger I had never seen in my life before.
And when we arrived at our station, Will would
not leave the carriage before we both had once
more gone through the performance, on the
strength of an imaginary likeness to a visionary
schoolfellow named Snodgrass of all names.
Whether the old gentleman saw through him, I am
not in a position to say ; but I know I felt very
thankful when I had left the carriage.

207

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

" I and my brother together visited the Paris
Exhibition, and the fancy took him to parade the
building in a bath chair, and occasionally give a
life-like representation of a severe epileptic fit."

Railway carriages appear to have been favourite
arenas with Terriss for the display of his powers.

When the new indicator was first placed in the
trains on the District Railway system, he regarded
it as a novelty, but complained of the name of
the advertising firm being placed in bolder type
than that of the next station. On one occasion
he travelled in a third-class smoking carriage, and
disguised himself as a Frenchman. The carriage
was well filled with members of the artisan class,
who were somewhat amused, if not concerned,
at the utterances of the Frenchman. Terriss, who
was with one of his sons at the time, spoke in
broken English, rolled his eyes, and asked whether
the next station was " Mellin's Food, or K eatings."
The fellow-passengers appeared to think he was
a madman. His son pacified them by saying
he was in charge of the lunatic, and he was harm-
less. Presently, on arriving at his destination,

208

HUM /V !H!d,
a hi . di .,;aiv. I'll** \t 'I'kmen ap-

pivt iat'd tli'* j"h'\ aad iVnL- h.uid'-d them rav h
thr prii e ft a p~liv .h.-r.

Tin:, w.i * K'I ih- .n!\ * k i;>u *n whu.h he

iu;/. ai K' h uapit'i:, ha\ in,* ( h* rl thai a luu.ilu:
h.td e-.t,ij'! ( li- , 4 ,i it .in* il uh. I h*' \va-. like aiui
did hi-, he-, i t<> repp- ,'-tii hmi, Admirahly ilir>-
v'uised, h- ran pa'O* l!i ? - p. !ur' ".tafhin, and the.

i r ' I *

ulfii ei"% n^tii m,; hnn, and I-ii' i \m,; him it* he the
hm.ilii , i h.f,''d lain a f'.re.il di-.tan^<\
Well ahead >J them, h f ' '.''l/ed the ppoj
tjuit kly ;; (% ltinjj nd t ln% tli-.^ui.v, aiul
liaek in ihe !ireiiin they weie inninj,..;.

them, he { 'pped them alit'l \plaineil Ui.ltlei'S ;

iiut il wunld not have been TeiTiv* it hin viirliins
ciid Util part wilh him agreeably fali:*lied.

Alluilier til hi'* jk-"., whiih, ala-- ! lia' lately,

iu part, li^en paiutully re.tli/el, i-i i<*ld by Mrs,

IVrri:,:-*. Sin- and lh- family were vKiling Mailame
TuNviUil'.s, when her hu'Jninil, nuliiitij; an empty

hlaild tiuVrfril With ihe M:,iul I'ed li,li/,t*, immedi .

atiily tt^ok up hi: pa;.tli^u up* in il. lit; :trtu:k

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

an attitude, and remained still and apparently life-
less. Presently visitors came that way, and
passing before the presumed effigy, could not
discover from the guide book what it represented.
In the midst of their wonderment Terriss stepped
down and caused them much consternation and
surprise. The joke is by no means an original
one ; but seeing how it has recently found its
counterpart in reality, it is worthy of mention.

And now this brief, disjointed, and all unworthy
memoir of a "good fellow" and a general favour-
ite must be brought to a close ; and it cannot
end better than with some beautiful verses which
appeared years ago above the name William
Terriss.

210

15KKKXV BILL

Oh' ,i \*.nd*TU:I %tirun i-, thr nvrr of Time,

A% if JUM-, tin.*' thr. ir.dm of tears;
\\ilh frirntl-v, tl, ,w and monotonous rhyme
If \\it-r\i*. .it w;ih ,i \v,tvr Mi!i!mif,

And w:n f '-r, tin!: onward like Hakes o

And th>- vr.n , t ili>- -.h, n yrar; t they eome and they go
Un th.- nv.-i\ -,tt:u iid", with its ebb and ils How,
A-i it /lid'--, m tiif -.hadnw and shern,

Theie's .1 m,i.;- .d r,lr up the* nvrr u| Time, I

Tht-N-'-. .1 lMudlr,\ %ky and a liopieal dime,
In -,jnn^ \vh-a we lii*.t \vtitit a maying.

Aw! the name <t t!t<* r.tmd is Long Ag<.) 3

And we fjnd our lost trea-.ures there;
'1'heie aie bi>w. 1 , of beauty, and bosoms of snow
(N*\v h*-,ip", .il du-.t, lliiHii'ji we loved them so);

is and tresses of hair :

Th'r air Mjatt ht-. of .songs that nobody .sings,
Tiirir ;ur wtinls IVr.Hn an infant's prayer ;

Thrfr ,ur lutes uinwrpt and liarps without strings,
Thru- aii- broken vows and pieces of rings*,
lluit tur luwd ones used to wear:

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM TERRISS

There are hands that waved when we parted last,

There are eyes never dimmed by tears;
There are heads never bowed to misfortune's blast,
But still stood erect while the storm went past,
In the long-forgotten years.

But the sunlight is fading for weal or woe,

And the waters onward pour;
And Time, the destroyer, with one fell blow,
Has sunk our island of " Long Ago "

In the ocean of " Never More."

Butler & Tanner, The Selwood Printing: Works, Frome, and London.

212 7

\rchibald Constable & Co

publishers to tbc Snfcia Office
.\ \\hitriull (Jardcns Westminster, S.W.

\ r

i" \TAI,< u;ri-:

;c ''M. . tt i ':;,

ABLK & co:s

br obtained post free on

iiMf > whose* works arc published

L \:N!-. P< K 1.E, STANLEY.
LANK ESTER, E. kAV, F.R.S.
LM!'\E. M;HjiiK ot, K.T., M.I 1 ,

i.' TI, PIERRE.

K., i MA '!.!: !>. MoNA.

j \J- }:!' hiTH. j;Et)kJK.

;::-' \V11.JI\M M \M I MKYNEI.L, ALICE.

i M H ikl, F. FkANKFOkT.

V, li M \\f. I NANM'.N. FRIOTJOF, F.K.CJ.S.

i- : H :.:. !< ;:*,!- \ . f I'HJl JI'S, F. C.

! koiiERTS, MORLEV.

iiiAkr. WILLIAM.

M j'

VLL. A < '' N A\V

:--j-t..:-. ! 'J'.j i' I -' *'
'/ P I'A^' L LL1 I.

, FKAM'FS.

I J- *,!A K ,. J-: \t sTIN.

k r.-i\i- r. ! \\IKS, u.

k |.I . N ! MAN.

!- \i'l *, I-* !: TJ!F.A.

!!:. 1\. ,. 1.A1 'Kh.Nt '
.!! Ii \

M K J I., l-.ht AKR

iSNA, * '.rlMii.-l II, R

STAN'TON, FRANK L.
.VI'EEL, I 1 ' LOR A ANNIE.
S H (KEk, MRAM.
M'CkOIS, JULIAN.
TAK'VKR, JOHN CI-IARUCS.
THOMPSON, FRANCIS.
TKEVOR-HATTYK, At/BYN, F.L.S.
VII'.ART, Cnlom-1 HENRY M.
WAUOELL, Sur^ron-Mujor, L.A.
\VALFORD, L. H.
\VARI>, A. W., Litt.l).
WAkkl-VN, KATIC M.
WHITE, (JLKESON.
WICKSTKFJ), PHILIP.
WILKINSON, SPENSER.

A WHITEHALL <;AKI>KNS, WESTMINSTER.
$

ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE & CO

AT ALL THE LIBRARIES
AND BOOKSELLERS

Gaiety Chronicles

By JOHN HOLLINGSHEAD
CONTAINING EARLY PORTRAITS

SIR HENRY IRVING
JOHN L. TOOLE
ALFRED WIGAN
EDWARD TERRY
ROBERT SOUTAR
CHARLES MATTHEWS
W. J. FLORENCE
SAMUEL EMERY
H. E. DIXON

E. W. ROYCE
HENRY J. BYRON
SAMUEL PHELPS
DION BOUCICAULT
HERMAN VEZIN
CHARLES SANTLEY
ARTHUR CECIL

F. C. BURNAND

SIR ARTHUR SULLIVAN

DAVID JAMES

JOHN CLAYTON

FRED LESLIE

GEORGE EDWARDES

Miss ELLEN FARREN

Miss KATE VAUGHAN

Miss CONSTANCE LOSEBY

Mrs. KENDAL

Miss EMILY FOWLER

Miss E. LITTON

Miss ROSE LECLERQ

Miss ADELAIDE NEILSON

Miss JULIA MATTHEWS

Mrs. JOHN WOOD

Miss CONNIE GILCHRIST

(Countess of Orkney)
SARAH BERNHARDT
ETC., ETC

Demy 8vo, 2i/-

2, WHITEHALL GARDENS, WESTMINSTER.

AKC'HIBALl) CONSTABl.K it CO

Constable's Popular Edition

OF THK

r orks of George Meredith

H "<.

Frontispira'S t>y HV.UNAKI* I'UMKIIH;!--, HA nut SON Mn,u<:i;,

WIUJAM Hvw, and othrr-;.

ORHKALOK KICHARU , ONK UK iU'K ftN-

'KVKRKI, : <,M/KKt)lcS

Sf HAKKIKiiToN ' I.OKD OKMnNT AND HIS

,)RA UKU.ONI AMINTA

'ORIA THK AMA/I\t; MAUKIAiiK

DA FLKMINt; THK SHAVIN(i <>!' .MIAti

ADVKNTI.-RKS OK I 1 AT

IARRV RK.'HMHND THK TKAiih' < < >MK1 iJA.NS

jcHAMi"s C:ARKKR -, MIOKT STORIKS

KCJOIST TU-KM.S. Voh.

^A OK THK ("R>HS AN* KsSAV <*X ruMKliV

VAYS '

lected Poems

By GEORCJE MEREDfrH

?(,)CKKT EDITION, I'ltnirtl tm Hamt uudr I^j^t,
('rtwrt Hr<?, fi. */,

hntik fit* lovrr l |-liy $;an %|s4tr ft.{n tm -;hrt\ri " /d. jj" II ii.v.
i, WHITiaiALL tiAKUKNS, \\ |\.s I'MINM KK.

ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE & CO

POPULAR 6s. BOOKS.
THE POTENTATE. A Romance. By FRANCES FORBES-ROBERTSON

Crown Svo. 6s.

"-There are strong dramatic situations and tragic force in this romance . . . bright!
written." The A thenteum.

ODD STORIES. By FRANCES FORBES-ROBERTSON. Crown Svo. 6s
THE MACMAHON: OR, THE STORY OF THE SEVEP

JOHNS. By OWEN BLAYNEY. Crown Svo. 6s.

" The book has its action against the historical background of the events which followe
the battle of the Boyne. . . . Told with a rare knowledge of the historical conditions :
describes, and with wit and imagination ... its subordinate incidents are many an
picturesque . . strongly conceived and ably written." The Scotsman.

DRACULA. By BRAM STOKER. Crown Svo. 6s. Fifth Edition.

" One of the most enthralling and unique romances ever written." The Christian Work
" The idea is so novel that one gasps, as it were, at its originality. A romance far abov
the ordinary production." Si. PaitTs.

ADVENTURES IN LEGEND. Tales of the West Highlands. By th

MARQUIS OF LORNE, K.T., M.P. Fully Illustrated. Crown Svo. 6s.
"The Marquis of Lome has certainly given to the book-reading public much food for quit
reflection, and a glimpse at the national history of the Highlands, which is a valuable cor
tribution to the literature of the North." Whitehall Review.

THE VIGIL : A Tale of Adventure in Zululand. By CHARLES MONTAGUE

Author of "Tales of a Nomad." Fourteen Full-page Illustrations by A. I

M'CORMICK. 6s.

" It is not easy to single out the best in a book that is so thoroughly interesting an
absorbing." Leeds Mercury.

THE LAUGHTER OF PETERKIN. Crown Svo. 6s. A Re-tellin

of Old Stories of the Celtic Wonder- world. A book for young and old. By FION

MACLEOD.

" This latest and most excellent piece of work of Miss Macleod's." Spectator.
"To no more skilful hands than those of Fiona Macleod could the re-telling of these ol
tales of the Celtic Wonderland have been confided." Morning Post.
" The book is a charming fairy tale." AtJienteum.

POPULAR 33. 6d. BOOKS.
THE FOLLY OF PEN HARRINGTON. By JULIAN STURGIS

New Edition. 35. 6d.

" Bright, piquant, and thoroughly entertaining." The World.

"Will hold its own with any work of the same class that has appeared during the la
half-dozen years." The Speaker.

GREEN FIRE. A Story of the Western Islands. By FIONA MACLEOI
Author of " The Sin Eater," " Pharais," " The Mountain Lovers," etc., Crown ; 8 v
New Edition. 35. <5d.
" There are few in whose hands the pure threads have been so skilfully and delicate!

woven as they have in Fiona Macleod's." Pa.ll Mall Gazette.

THE DARK WAY OF LOVE. By CHARLES LE GOFFIC. Translate

by WINGATE RINDER. Crown Svo. 35. 6d.

" To state the salient facts of the story can give no idea of the impressiveness of the boo!
. . . The work cannot but strongly interest every one who takes it up." The Scotstna*

IN THE TIDEWAY. By FLORA ANNIE STEEL, Author of "O

the Face of the Waters," etc. New Edition. 35. 6d.

"This book adds greatly to an established position. It is profoundly impressive." ,5"
James's Budget.

THE ENEMIES. A Novel. By E. H. COOPER. 35. 6d.

"A sober, well-written story, with a strong political flavour, throwing, too, a queer ligl
on the shady side of Irish elections.'' Daily Graphic.

HIS VINDICATION. By Mrs. NEWMAN. 35. 6d.

" * His Vindication ' is a capital story." Daily Telegraph.

2, WHITEHALL GARDENS, WESTMINSTER.

AKCHIMAU) fONSTABLK & (-()

POPULAR i/- FICTION

AT ALL Tin-: lionKsFLLi us AND KUOKXTALLS

( ?,//; i'V.Jf'.A, n,

THE PARASITE, By Ci.\\\ D,vj.r.

THE RED SFHLL. r.y H.:\\ri.-. tii.-.u-.r.i.r.

DR. KOOMADHL Hy F K \NJ.I-. UT Mu.un-,
AN ENGAGEMENT.' !ly Sir K.osi-.Kr lM-;|.;i,.
ANGELA'S LOVER. Uy !"!:. nir.A CKKAKU.
A QUESTION OF COLOUR. By K <;, pmuis.

Tilr hi si U : U4 i \ * yi 'LlNt;

THE ART AND PASTIME OF CYCLING. 15y

U. j. Ms -i :;;> .^:.:| A. J. U;i .'. U' ill* ut.my Uhr-,U,tlinus. Clutli

nil-- n VNHU-'.NT ptHT.i-i P.VMIK ink IA

THE CYCLIST'S POCKET BOOK. Cloth hoards, i.v.

Ir.Uhri, I f-'- IV.Jili-,hri .uitf.. uU,

INVAI.I \p,ij. u.. .\\s.\n-.rks
THE USE OF THE HANI") CAMERA. My C, H.

\Yilh ur.mrt'".!-. niu-.lt.itMi.. I'r.wn Ni, s ,.. e,/.

THE STORIES OF SAMUEL LOVER.

( Vutru.m I 'hli- -a. A * njnjl>-lr- is;u!'^u riiiln'ti f {{ StiH<*> *1 SiltHU !
Luvri,. \\ i?|j !i.s?: /jU'-i - JM r.u h \ >4ui;- nhint, \vifh ;tu iuU* iiuliu ;tn*l
IliJlr-i, !y j. 'I. < l.4M;iirj-..

Vol. i. i,KGKNl>8 AND STOK1KS OK IRELAND. Finn
Srj trr*.

2. LEGKNIIS AND STOK2KS OF IRELAND, Second

Sri ic,

3, KOKY O'MOKK.
4. HANDY ANDY,
s- TKKASUKK TROVK ; OK, HE WOULD BE A

GKNTLBMAM.'*

6. FURTHER STOKIKS OF IRELAND.
Tlu: l;i'-.t vnhuur iia hair, Shuitv* ttlmh liavc- itrvrt IKTU pn-viiuisly t'ullcctrd.

a, \V!UTi;ilALL CJAKM.NS, WKSTMIXSTKR.

ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE & CO
NEW BOOKS OF TRAVEL

A Northern Highway of the Tsar

BY AUBYN TREVOR-BATTYE,

Author of " Ice-bound on Kolguev." Illustrated. Crown Svo. 6$.

"A remarkable achievement . . . the account is graphic to a degree . . . a large
public will welcome his book." Daily Chronicle.

" . . . This journey, attended by much labour and hardship, and by dangers not a.
few. ' ' Scotsman.

Travel and Life in Ashanti and Jaman

BY R. AUSTIN FREEMAN.

Fully Illustrated from Drawings by the Author and others, and from Photo-
graphs. 2 Maps. Demy Svo. 2 IS.

Among the Himalayas

BY MAJOR L. A. WADDELL.

With numerous Illustrations by A. D. M'CoRMiCK, the Author, and others,
and from Photographs and Maps. Large Demy Svo. 2 is.

The Sportswoman's Library

VOLS. I. AND II. EDITED BY FRANCES SLAUGHTER.

Fully Illustrated and containing contributions by Mrs. BURN (n$e
ANSTRUTHER-THOMPSON), Mrs. PENN-CURZON, The Hon. Mrs. LANCELOT
LOWTHER, The COUNTESS OF MALMESBURY, Mrs. L. W. WYLLIE, Miss
WALROND, Miss MAY BALFOUR, the Editor, and others. Sold in single
volumes.

" The Game of Polo "

BY T. F. DALE ("Stomclink " of " The Field").

Illustrated by LILLIAN SMYTHE, CUTHBERT BRADLEY, and CRAWFORD
WOOD ; and a Photogravure Portrait of Mr. JOHN WATSON.

Demy Svo. 2 IS. net.

* j Likely to rank as the standard work on the subject." Morning Post.
t^Sr the autllor does n t know about it is not knowledge." Pall Mall Gazette,
a A il dou ] Dtless be of great use to beginners." Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic.
A charming addition to the library of those who are devoted to the game." The Globe.

2, WHITEHALL GARDENS, WESTMINSTER.
6

ARCHIBALD COXSTARLK & CO

loswell's Life of Johnson.

KIHTKU I'.Y ACGrSTIXK IHRRKLL

rii KuoNTisriKn'. ; i:v AI,KX ANSTl-'U, A ui-runhrenoN OF
SIK JOSIU A RKYNoLns* PoiU'KAiT.

F.u ,iml au.ty iV l""-i r...-.ur!! 4 1 "Thr. ini.lrj-5.ilan.: ' thr jiuMi-.hrr-,

t!i| -..tv, I' l t!ir <"!,!::a. t : v !> : '"i.*-!. t":/.hl t< } trsf.uu 4 Mb r-.-.." - 7 W

nji thr jij.ulc}," i' v V<*. ;".;.".;' ,' ,*,'./.",' '

. _. . Wr \i.i\r ./....I rf..-. J.> :r .

lU'nJ tfl .ill r.''jj ..! , 4 viv n-;.-!:;!
,tffl. JIV-- I.Ul'l" ,;.%-.;.;.:",

* "

CONSTAIUJi'S RItl'KINT

i r

The Wuvcrlcy Novels

'$ !!!'- l.\Vt M !-!l U ! I H 1 >N ' '!>'

s i k \v A i/r i: K SCOTT

ilh .Ul Ihr MtijMii.tl i'J.tlr-, .ut ! \'i;;iirf!r-. tjlr rn-;,,iVr> i J. In ,J,S Vol.,

.M---:-.;.-. r .j,-.!4Mr ,-. f... h.vr

. '- I,, J^r i - . ', JU -i -A -J 14 J>

,S \V1I1 i !.!i..\!.I, ^.\!.I!.\ -, U

ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE & CO
CONSTABLE'S LIBRARY OF

Historical Novels atid Romances

t EDITED BY G. LAURENCE GOMME.

Crown &vo, 3-r. bd. cloth.
After a Design by A. A. TURBAYNE.

With Illustrations of all the principal features, which include reproductions of royal and
historical signatures, coins, seals, and heraldic devices.

Harold : the Last of the Saxons

IJy LORD LYTTON.

The Camp of Refllge CHARLES MACFARLANK
Westward Ho ! By CHARLES KINGSLEY
Reading Abbey y CHARLES MACFARLANK

[Nearly Kcttrfy.}
Others in Preparation.

"Now we are to have for the first time a fairly complete edition of the lirsi historical
novels and romances in our language. Messrs. Archibald Constable & Co. have had a
happy idea in planning such a scheme which is likely to have an enthusiastic reception."
National Observer.

The King's Story Book

Edited by G. LAURENCE GOMME. With numerous full-
page Illustrations by C. HARRISON MILLER.

Crown 8w, cloth gilt t 6s.

"Mr. Gomme has hit upon a happy idea fora 'story-book,' and has carried it out with
signal success." Publishers' Circular.

" We give honourable mention to 'The King's Story Book.' It is a hook of stories collected
out of English romantic literature. This is a book that will thrill wove than any modoiu
effort of the imagination ; a more striking collection of stories of daring and vuluur was ncvrr
got between two book covers." -Pall Mall Gasette t Nov. 23, 1897.

The Queen's Story Book

Edited by G. LAURENCE GOMME. With many Illustrations.

Crown Svo, doth gilt, 6s.
2, WHITEHALL GARDENS, WESTMINSTER.

Internet Archive Audio

Featured

Top

Images

Featured

Top

Software

Featured

Top

Books

Featured

Top

Video

Featured

Top

Mobile Apps

Browser Extensions

Archive-It Subscription

Save Page Now

Full text of "The Life Of William Terriss Actor"

See other formats