Henry Irving's Impressions Of America - free ebook by Joseph Hatton

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Henry Irving's Impressions Of America

Joseph Hatton

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HENRY IRVING’S IMPRESSIONS OF AMERICA

HENRY IRVING’S IMPRESSIONS OF AMERICA

NARRATED IN A SERIES OF SKETCHES, CHRONICLES, AND CONVERSATIONS BY JOSEPH HATTON AUTHOR OF “CLYTIE,” “CRUEL LONDON,” “THREE RECRUITS,” “TO-DAY IN AMERICA,” ETC. BOSTON JAMES R. OSGOOD AND COMPANY 1884 Copyright, 1884 James R. Osgood and Company All rights reserved Press of Rockwell and Churchill, 39 Arch St. Copyright, 1884 James R. Osgood and Company All rights reserved Press of Rockwell and Churchill, 39 Arch St. This book is the outcome of a desire to chronicle, in a lasting form, some of the

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I.

I.

The comedian’s reminiscences were graphic narratives of theatrical and frontier life, with six-shooters and bowie-knives in them, and narrow escapes enough to have made the fortunes of what the Americans call a ten-cent novel. “Oh, yes, I believe it is the duty of the door-keeper at a Western theatre to collect the weapons of the audience before admitting the people to the house; that what we call the cloak-room in London, you might call the armory out West; and that the bowie-knife of a Texan c

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II.

II.

No man was ever more written of or talked about in America than Henry Irving; probably no man was ever more misrepresented as to his art and his life. A monster, according to his enemies; an angel, if you took the verdict of his friends; he was a mystery to untravelled American journalists, and an enigma to the great play-going public of the American cities. They were told that people either loved or hated him at first sight. American tourists even carried home contradictory reports of him, thou

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III.

III.

Being in New York ahead of Mr. Irving’s arrival, I found much of the curious fiction of which gossip had made him the hero, crystallized into definite assertions, that were accepted as undisputed facts. A day’s sail from the Empire city, in a pretty Eastern villa, I discovered the London gossip-monger’s influence rampant. But if a prominent critic in London could publicly credit Mr. Irving’s success as an actor to his hospitable dispensation of “chicken and champagne,” one need not be surprised

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IV.

IV.

At the corner of Grafton street, where the traffic of a famous West End artery ebbs and flows among picture exhibitions and jewelry stores, lives the most popular actor of his time. It is a mysterious-looking house. The basement is occupied by a trunk store. From the first floor to the top are Mr. Henry Irving’s chambers. They present from the outside a series of dingy, half-blind windows that suggest no prospect of warmth or cheer. “Fitting abode of the spirit of tragic gloom!” you might well e

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V.

V.

Genius is rarely without a sense of humor. Mr. Irving has a broad appreciation of fun, though his own humor is subtle and deep down. This is never better shown than in his Richard and Louis. It now and then appears in his conversations; and when he has an anecdote to tell he seems to develop the finer and more delicate motives of the action of the narrative, as if he were dramatizing it as he went along. We dropped our main subject of audiences presently to talk of other things. He related to me

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VI.

VI.

When Mr. Irving’s art is discussed, when his Hamlet or his Mathias, his Shylock or his Dei Franchi, are discussed, he should be regarded from a broader stand-point than that of the mere actor. He is entitled to be looked at as not only the central figure of the play, but as the motive power of the whole entertainment,—the master who has set the story and grouped it, the controlling genius of the moving picture, the source of the inspiration of the painter, the musician, the costumer, and the mac

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VII.

VII.

A reflective writer, with the power to vividly recall a past age and contrast it with the present, might find ample inspiration in the rooms to which Mr. Irving presently invites us. It is Saturday night. On this last day in every acting week it is his habit to sup at the theatre, and, in spite of his two performances, he finds strength enough to entertain a few guests, sometimes a snug party of three, sometimes a lively company of eight or ten. We descend a carpeted staircase, cross the stage u

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II.

II.

We encounter more new-comers in the saloon. Two of them bring copies of the morning papers. I recognize several of the interesting crowd, and cannot help telling them something of the conversation of the Beefsteak Club room guest who drew their pictures in London, as a warning to the traveller whom they were going to meet. I find them almost as ill-informed, and quite as entertaining, concerning Irving’s mannerisms, as was the traveller in question touching their own occupation. They talk very m

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III.

III.

But Irving’s ship is sailing on through the darkness while I have been making this “aside,” and the “Blackbird” is in motion; for I hear the swish of the river, and the lights on shore are dancing by the port-holes. Mr. Abbey’s fine military band, from the Metropolitan Opera House, has come on board; so also has a band of waiters from the Brunswick. Breakfast is being spread in the saloon. The brigands from the ladies’ cabin have laid aside their slouch hats and cloaks. They look as harmless and

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IV.

IV.

“‘Britannic’ ahead!” shouts a voice from the gangway. We clamber on deck. It is daylight. The air is still keen. The wooded shores of Staten island are brown with the last tints of autumn. Up the wide reaches of the river, an arm of the great sea, come all kinds of craft; some beating along under sail; others, floating palaces, propelled by steam. These latter are ferry-boats and passenger steamers. You have seen them in many a marine picture and panorama of American travel. The “Blackbird” is t

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V.

V.

“Well , gentlemen, you want to talk to me,” he says, lighting a cigar, and offering his case to his nearest neighbors. The reporters look at him and smile. They have had a brief consultation as to which of them shall open the business, but without coming to any definite arrangement. Irving, scanning the kindly faces, is no doubt smiling inwardly at the picture which his London friend had drawn of the interviewers. He is the least embarrassed of the company. Nobody seems inclined to talk; yet eve

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VI.

VI.

“She is not quite pretty,” says a New York reporter, turning to me during his contemplation of Miss Terry, who is very picturesque as she sits by the taffrail at the stern; “but she is handsome, and she is distinguished. I think we would like to ask her a few questions; will you introduce us?” I do the honors of this presentation. Miss Terry is too much under the influence of the wonderful scene that meets her gaze to receive the reporters with calmness. “And this is New York!” she exclaims. “Wh

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I.

I.

“An enterprising chronicler; probably a ‘liner,’ as we should call him on the other side,—a liner unattached.” “He was very civil. I thanked him, and made him understand that I am modest, and do not like so much attention as he suggests. But these other gentlemen, let us see them together.” It was very interesting to hear Irving talk to his visitors, one after the other, about his art and his work. I had never seen him in such good conversational form before. So far from resisting his interrogat

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II.

II.

On Monday morning the newspapers, from one end of the United States to the other, chronicled the arrival of Mr. Irving and Miss Terry. The New York journals rivalled each other in columns of bright descriptive matter, with headings in more than customary detail. The “Herald” commenced its announcement in this way:— IRVING—TERRY. Arrival of the Famous English Actor and the Leading Lady of the Lyceum. A Hearty Welcome Down the Bay by Old Friends. AN INTERVIEW WITH MR. IRVING. His Views on the Dram

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III.

III.

The first week in New York was, in a great measure, spent between the theatre and the hotel. Invitations to dinner and receptions were, as a rule, declined. The exceptions were breakfasts given by Mr. Vanderbilt and Judge Shea. Many distinguished persons called. All kinds of polite attentions were offered, some of which it is to be feared Irving had not time or opportunity to acknowledge as he could have wished. One gentleman placed his carriage at Mr. Irving’s disposal; another offered to lend

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IV.

IV.

It is customary in American theatres for the orchestra to play the audience out as well as in. “We will dispense with that,” said Irving to his conductor, Mr. Ball. “It is a general habit here,” remarked the Star manager. “Yes, I understand so,” Irving replied; “but it seems to me a difficult matter to select the music appropriately to the piece. What sort of music do you usually play?” “A march.” “Ah, well, you see our plays are so different, that a march which would do one night would be entir

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I.

I.

“You must excuse the difficulty in procuring seats. You know the venerable story which Oscar Wilde appropriated about the sign over the piano in a far-western concert-hall: ‘Don’t shoot the performer; he’s doing the best he can.’ (Laughter.) The committee beg me to repeat in their behalf that touching old appeal. They’ve done the best they could. There are five hundred members of this club, and only one hundred and forty seats in this dining-room; they have done their utmost to put the five hund

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II.

II.

The toast was drank with ringing cheers, and in its report of the reply the “Tribune” says: “Mr. Irving spoke in measured tones, and with a singularly clear and effective enunciation, his frequent ironical sallies being received with bursts of laughter and applause.” He said:— “Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen,—It is not in my power to thank you, with eloquence, for the reception that you have given me to-night. In spite of the comforting words and suggestions of our friend, the chairman, that on Tues

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III.

III.

As it was generally admitted that the speaking on this night had never been exceeded in wit and humor, and for its cordiality towards a famous Englishman, at any of the Lotos dinners, I make no apology for printing portions of the other addresses. Mr. Chauncey M. Depew, General Porter, and ex-Mayor Oakey Hall, have long since made distinct reputations for themselves as American orators. At an English dinner men speak to set toasts. In America they are called upon, frequently without warning, to

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IV.

IV.

It was late before the Lotos-eaters parted, although London clubmen take more out of the night than is the habit with New-Yorkers. The raciness of the evening’s speeches was repeated in the stories that were told by the genial few, who sat and talked and smoked with their guest until Fifth avenue was as quiet and deserted as it was when a crowd of admiring friends went out to meet the “Britannic” a week previously. Apropos of an amusing anecdote, with a practical joke in it, which was related, I

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I.

I.

“Well, let us talk to Chicago then, if you wish it.” “So far, are you satisfied with your reception in this country?” “More than satisfied; I am delighted, I might say amazed. It is not only the press and the public who have shown me so much attention, but I have received many courtesies privately,—some from American friends whom I have met in London, some from gentlemen whom I have never seen.” “What is your general impression of New York, its theatres, hotels, streets, and its social life?” “I

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II.

II.

The night before Irving’s first appearance at the Star Theatre was spent at a quiet little supper, given to a few private friends, at the Manhattan Club. The conversation turned chiefly upon English actors. “I was once at a dinner of a theatrical fund, over which a famous old actor presided,” said Irving. “His proposal of the first toast of the evening was a pathetic incident. His mind was wandering back to his early days. After alluding to the loyalty of all classes of Englishmen, and of actors

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III.

III.

“Good-night,” I said, “and good luck! When next we say good-night New York will have pronounced its verdict.” “I don’t believe in luck,” he answered. “It will be all right. But it seems strange, after all our talks of America, that to-morrow night I am to act here in New York. How everything comes to an end! Next year at this time, all being well, we shall be looking back upon the whole tour, recalling incidents of New York, Boston, Philadelphia, Chicago, Baltimore, Washington; and I dare say it

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I.

I.

The entire floor of an American theatre is devoted to stall seats. Ladies and gentlemen who occupied the back seats had to submit to constant arrivals all through the first and second acts. The doors at the Star Theatre open right upon the audience. They were swinging backwards and forwards during the first half hour of the piece. It is a universal habit in America not to be seated at the time announced for the curtain to go up. Add to this the obstruction of the ticket-speculators, and the prem

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II.

II.

A round of applause greeted the rise of the curtain upon the first scene of “The Bells.” The audience thus testified their desire to be kindly; but, as the first part of the story was told, there was a certain impatience even in their recognition of the artistic simplicity of the scene. “The Bells” opens more like a novel than a play; and yet the suggestiveness of the narrative at the table, as the topers chat and drink, is singularly dramatic. On this first night the play seemed to drag, and th

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III.

III.

The curtain having fallen on the first act, Irving received the honor of a triple call, after which I went to his room, and found him reading some of the numerous cables and telegrams from home, and from several distant American and Canadian cities, wishing him success. “How kind everybody is!” he exclaimed, as he handed me a bundle of despatches. “You should have seen the hundreds of telegrams and letters that were sent to me on board the steamer as I was leaving Liverpool!” “You are pleased?”

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IV.

IV.

Going behind the scenes, after the play, I found a representative of the “Herald” already ensconced in Mr. Irving’s dressing-room. He was pressing the actor for his views of the audience, and for some contrasts of his sensations under the influence of this audience and others before whom he had played in England. At first Irving seemed inclined to say no more than to express satisfaction at his success. But the “Herald” representative was a quiet, cultivated, and experienced journalist. Evidentl

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II.

II.

At the written request of the leading actors and theatrical companies of New York, Irving gave a “professional matinée ” at the Star Theatre. The play was “Louis XI.” It was the first time Irving had appeared before an audience of actors in any country. The house was packed from floor to ceiling. It was a singularly interesting and interested audience. No actor, proud of his profession, could have looked at it without a thrill of pleasure. Well-dressed, beaming with intelligence and intellectual

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III.

III.

“If one had arranged events in America to one’s own liking one could not have had them go along more pleasantly,” said Irving, one Sunday afternoon, when he was giving me an account of his visit to Mr. Henry Ward Beecher and Mrs. Beecher, at Brooklyn; “indeed, one would have had to lay in a stock of vanity to even dream of such a reception as we have had. It needs a little hostility here and there in the press at home, and on this side, to give a wholesome flavor to the sweets. It is a great rew

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IV.

IV.

Among the little suppers which Irving accepted after the play was a cosey entertainment given by Major Frank Bond, at which a dozen gentlemen of distinction in politics, science, and the army, were present. Dr. Fordyce Barker, who was intimate with Dickens, during that illustrious author’s visits to America, was one of the guests. He started, among other subjects, a very interesting conversation. “Have you ever made studies of deaths for stage purposes?” asked Dr. Barker. “No.” “And yet your las

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I.

I.

“It is, indeed. Let us have a chat in that spirit, and call the chapter ‘A quiet evening.’” “You mean a talk for the book?” “Yes; one gets so few opportunities of this kind that it is worth while to avail ourselves of the present one. I think you had better tell me what you have done in New York, and I will chronicle it from your own lips.” “Do you mean generally, or in detail? There are some things that fix themselves in one’s memory not to be forgotten. Of course, the first night at the Star T

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II.

II.

“The supper given to me by Mr. Florence, at the St. James Hotel, was also an entertainment to remember. Quite a little family party, was it not? Mr. Jerome—Larry, as his friends call him—was splendid; and how many years of local dramatic history he had at his fingers’ ends! We were quite a little family party; Gilbert, Edwards, Jefferson,—God bless him!—they were among the guests. Florence, if you remember, had after supper a great brass urn placed upon the table, sat before it, and made whiskey

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III.

III.

Irving did not expect to be called upon for a set speech at the Lambs Club. The President, Mr. Florence, did, and was prepared. He made no secret of his nervousness, nor of his arrangements against failure. The manuscript of his address was lying before him during the dinner. He consulted it occasionally, to the amusement of his neighbors. When the time came he rose, his speech in his hand, his heart in his mouth. The most eminent of actors have felt similar sensations under the influence of an

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IV.

IV.

For the last night of the New York engagement programme was a novelty, in every respect, to a New York audience. Custom confines the night’s entertainment in American theatres to one piece. On occasion the play-bill contained the first act of “Richard III.”; the Lyceum version of “The Belle’s Stratagem”; the, in England, well-known recitation “Eugene Aram”; and Irving was also expected to make a speech. The programme was played to an enthusiastic audience; and, at the close of “The Belle’s Strat

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I.

I.

“And they are both sarcastic about the morality of Chicago.” “A Boston friend of ours,” said Irving, “was telling me yesterday of a little war of words he had with a Philadelphian. Said Boston to the Quaker, ‘Well, there is one thing in which you have the best of us.’—‘Glad you admit one point in our favor anyhow; what is it?’—‘You are nearer to New York than we are.’ Our Boston friend is fond of New York, takes his holidays there; says he likes it nearly as well as London. A less subtle, but mo

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II.

II.

The Chestnut Street Theatre, where Irving appeared on November 28, is a handsome brick building. The width of the stage at the proscenium is thirty-three feet, depth forty feet, height of proscenium forty feet. There are three tiers of seats, which will accommodate one thousand five hundred people. The theatre was first opened in 1863, under the management of William Wheatley, with Edwin Forrest as the leading actor. The interior was reconstructed in 1874, and improved in 1875, with results that

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III.

III.

Talking of criticism and the press, the press and the stage, one evening, Irving expressed some views in regard to the influence and relations of the newspaper and the theatre which are full of suggestiveness and point. “Journalism and the stage,” he said, “have always been more or less in sympathy with each other. As they have progressed this sympathy may be said to have grown into an alliance in the best interests of civilization. As exponents of the highest thought of the greatest writers, as

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IV.

IV.

Taking a quiet stroll along Broad street, and occasionally up and down the thoroughfares right and left, on the first Sunday afternoon of our arrival in Philadelphia, we paused once or twice to note the people coming out of church and chapel. “You know that part of Manchester called Hulme,” said Irving. “Is not this quarter like that? Could you not fancy we were in almost any suburban part of Manchester? And the people, do you see anything in their appearance to denote that they are any other th

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V.

V.

“Irving in Clover,” was the journalistic title of a report of “a notable breakfast given to the English tragedian,” which appeared in the “Philadelphia Press.” “A gathering of distinguished men listen to entertaining words by the famous actor; he is presented with the watch of Edwin Forrest.” The “Clover Club” is one of the pleasantest of Philadelphian institutions. Its reception to Mr. Irving, and the Forrest incident, which makes the day historical in the annals of the stage, calls for a speci

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I.

I.

The railway journey from Philadelphia to Boston was Irving’s first experience of American travel. “It is splendid,” he said, when I met him at his hotel, on the night of his arrival. “Am I not tired? Not a bit. It has been a delightful rest. I slept nearly the whole way, except once when going to the platform and looking out. At a station a man asked me which was Irving, and I pointed to Mead, who had been walking along the track, and was just then getting into his car. No; I enjoyed the ride al

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II.

II.

The Boston Theatre is the largest of the houses in which Irving has played on this side of the Atlantic. It is claimed that it is the largest in the Union, though many persons say that the Opera House at the Rocky Mountain city of Denver is the handsomest of all the American theatres. The main entrance to the Boston house is on Washington street. It has not an imposing exterior. The front entrance is all that is visible, the rest being filled up with stores; but the hall is very spacious, and th

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III.

III.

“The audience” on the first night of Irving’s appearance in Boston, said the “Post,” on the following morning, “was not made up of average theatre-goers; many regular ‘first-nighters’ were there, but a very large majority of those present were people of wealth, who go to the theatre comparatively little.” [27] The play was “Louis XI.” It excited expressions of admiration in the audience, and was as warmly praised in the press as at New York and Philadelphia. A fine theatre, the scenery appeared

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IV.

IV.

On the first night of the “Merchant of Venice” at Boston, Irving played Shylock, I think, with more than ordinary thoughtfulness in regard to his original treatment of the part. His New York method was, to me, a little more vigorous than his London rendering of the part. Considerations of the emphasis which actors have laid upon certain scenes that are considered as especially favorable to the declamatory methods possibly influenced him. His very marked success in Louis no doubt led some of his

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I.

I.

“‘Why, certainly,’ as they say in ‘The Colonel,’ but rarely in America.” Irving rings for his colored attendant. He has discovered that his surname is Brooks, and takes a curious pleasure in addressing him as Brooks, sometimes as “Brooks, of Sheffield!” “Order me a sleigh, Brooks!” “Yes, sah,” says Brooks, grinning. “Two horses, Brooks!” “Yes, sah,” says the attendant, preparing to go, not hurriedly, for who ever saw a colored gentleman (they are all colored gentlemen) in a hurry? “And take my r

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II.

II.

“Ladies’ Night.—The Papyrus Club request the pleasure of the company of Miss Ellen Terry at the Revere House, December 15th, at six o’clock. Boston, 1883. Please reply to J. T. Wheelwright, 39 Court street.” [29] Thus ran the invitation, which was adorned with a miniature view of the Pyramids in a decorative setting of the reed that is familiar to travellers in the Nile valley. Miss Terry concluded to accept, and I had the honor of being her escort. The handsome rooms of the Revere House that we

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III.

III.

Irving , who could not be present at the Papyrus Club (it was one of Miss Terry’s “off nights,” when either “The Bells” or “Louis XI.” was performed), was received at the St. Botolph’s Club soon after the Papyrus festivities closed. In the absence of the President, ex-Mayor Green, the Vice-President, and Mr. Secretary Sullivan did the honors of the evening. An interesting meeting on this occasion was the introduction of Irving to Oliver Wendell Holmes, who later, at the matinée performance of “C

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I.

I.

“Why don’t you interview him, with Christmas as the pivot of your interrogations?” I asked. “He has been interviewed almost to death, I should think.” [32] “Oh, no; I believe he likes it! I am sure he does when a really bright, clever fellow comes along and engages his attention. Though he does not say so, and, perhaps, has not thought about it, he is doing good every time he has a real earnest talk to a reporter about the stage and its mission. No actor ever set people thinking so much in Engla

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II.

II.

And this Christmas chat is the result of the dramatic editor’s decision. “It was a gloomy, rainy, miserable day. The theatre, always a dreary place in the morning, seemed even more depressing than usual. Mr. Irving was rehearsing the first act of ‘Richard III.,’ possibly with a view to Baltimore or Chicago. “With that infinite patience which some philosophers define as genius, Mr. Irving went over and over the lines of Richard and Lady Ann, and acted all the business of the scene. His street cos

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I.

I.

The general waiting-room of the station, or depot, as our American cousins call it, is a characteristic one. Seeing that I was allowed plenty of time to observe it, I propose to describe it. A large square hall, with a high-pitched roof, it has more of a Continental than an English or American appearance. As you enter you find a number of people waiting for the trains. They include a few colored people and Chinamen. The centre of the room is filled with benches, like the stalls of a London theat

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II.

II.

I am taking my wife and two girls to Baltimore for the Christmas week. Last year we had our Christmas dinner with Irving. This year he has said, “Let us all sup together. The theatres are open on Christmas day; we must, therefore, have our pudding for supper after we have seen the last of poor old Louis.” “Awkward night for ladies getting to the ‘Maryland,’” says the guide. They are well provided with cloaks and furs and snow-boots, or rubbers (an absolute necessity and a great comfort in Americ

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III.

III.

Having spent an hour in vainly trying to couple Irving’s private car with another in the centre of the train, the guard decides to attach it to the last one. In this position, which eventually proved an interesting one, we trundle along through Jersey City, past rows of shops and stores, on a level with the sidewalks, the snow falling all the time. Here and there electric arcs are shedding weird illuminations upon the unfamiliar scenes. By the lights in many of the houses we can see that the win

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I.

I.

The fruit-stores are bright with tropical fruits; but not with the roses, carnations, pinks, and smilax creeper, so plentiful in New York, Boston, and Philadelphia. I pause to scan the faces of the crowd. It is a popular fiction in England that the women of the South are brunettes. The truth is, the further South you go, the fairer the women, and the more delicate their complexions. On Baltimore street I observe quite a number of ladies with red hair. Many of them are blondes, who might have bee

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II.

II.

While I have been studying Baltimore street darkness has fallen upon it. The gas-lamps and the electric arcs are beginning their nightly competition as I retrace my steps to the Academy of Music. Irving, who arrived in Baltimore at two, after a journey of forty-two hours, has just left the stage, I am told,—“gone to get a little rest.” “Have you had a rehearsal?” “Oh, yes!” says Loveday, who is directing the last finishing touches to the throne-room set for “Louis XI.” “Tight work, eh? Got into

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III.

III.

It is the custom in America to open the theatres on Christmas day. The doors of the Baltimore house could not have been opened in more wretched weather. The streets were impassable, except for carriages, or for pedestrians in “Arctic rubbers,” or on stilts. The snow was melting everywhere. Nothing had been done to clear the sidewalks. They were full of treacherous puddles, or equally treacherous snow-drifts. The Turks blow horns at certain periods of the year, to frighten away evil spirits. I kn

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IV.

IV.

It is a long way from Baltimore to Brooklyn,—five or six hundred miles,—still from Brooklyn to Chicago is over a thousand; yet these were the journeys that followed each other. The company, as you already know, travelled from Boston to Baltimore, close upon a thousand miles; from Baltimore it went to Brooklyn; and from the city of churches its next trip was to the great city on Lake Michigan. But, not to get ahead of events, we will pause at Brooklyn [33] : first, to say that the theatre was cro

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I.

I.

“I shall be stifled in there,” she says, retreating before a blast of hot air. “And starved to death out here,” says Irving. “Well, I prefer the latter,” she replies, taking her place among the crowd on the outer platform. “Our English friends would complain of heat at the North pole,” says an American gentleman to another, as they push their way into the saloon. It is an impressive sight, this great, rolling flood of the North river at midnight. The reflection of the boat’s lights upon the tide

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II.

II.

Presently we run into dock, and are as firmly part of it as if the two structures were one, and so we land and struggle along in groups to the platform, where our special train is to start for Chicago, a run of one thousand miles. Mr. Carpenter, the traffic manager of this road, is here to receive us. He and Mr. Abbey exchange some not unpleasant badinage about the tribulations of our previous journey from Boston to Baltimore, and we get aboard. Mr. Blanchard, the president of the Erie Railroad,

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III.

III.

The Chicago press justified my forecast of its enterprise. The story of one of its representatives (he was a baron, by the way, in his German Fatherland, though content to be a reporter in Chicago) is best told in his own way. He begins it with rather a series of “catching” titles, thus:— A Chat with Mr. Irving. A Daily News Reporter climbs into the English Tragedian’s Special Train, and Interviews him. Miss Ellen Terry thinks her American Sisters “Very nice,” but she has not yet seen Daisy Mill

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I.

I.

The mails were delayed for hours, and in some cases for days, on the principal railroads. Where the obstacles were not rain and flood they were wind and snow. Lockport, New York, reported that the snow on that day was four feet on the level, and still falling. Bradford, telegraphing for Pennsylvania generally, announced that fourteen inches of snow had fallen within a few hours, the weight of it crushing in many roofs and awnings. “The narrow-gauge railways,” ran the despatch, “five in number, h

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II.

II.

In spite of “wind and weather” the people of Chicago crowded Haverly’s Theatre, where Irving and Miss Terry appeared, night after night, for two weeks; and the critics of the great papers of the West, the “Times,” “Tribune,” “Inter-Ocean,” and “Daily News,” were equal to the occasion. They showed a knowledge of their work, and an appreciation of dramatic art, as illustrated by Irving, quite in keeping with the spirit and ambition of their new and wonderful city. A news-collector, having in view

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III.

III.

All the forecasts that warned Irving to expect in Chicago a coarse fibre of civilization and an absence of artistic appreciation were reversed in the Prairie city. Night after night great, generous, enthusiastic audiences crowded Haverly’s Theatre. Quick of perception, frank in their recognition of the best features of Irving’s work, they were cordial in their applause, and hearty in their greetings of the novelty of it. The critics interpreted the sentiments of the audiences, and put their feel

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IV.

IV.

The pieces produced during the two weeks of Irving’s stay in Chicago were “Louis XI.,” “The Merchant of Venice,” “The Bells,” “The Belle’s Stratagem,” and “The Lyons Mail.” On the last night, being called before the curtain by one of the most crowded houses of the season, he addressed the audience as follows:— “Ladies and Gentlemen,—It is my privilege to thank you for the hearty and enthusiastic welcome which you have given us during our too short stay amongst you. Many years ago, when a boy in

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I.

I.

At three o’clock in the morning we arrived at St. Louis, and on the next day I walked across the ice-locked Mississippi. In a street adjacent to the wharves, where steamers and boats of all kinds were frozen up, were the remains of an old hotel, that had been burnt out a short time previously. The thermometer stood at twenty degrees below zero. A first glance at the place, from a short distance, showed a house with what looked like packs of wool thrust out at the windows, and great bundles and e

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II.

II.

Among the social events of the visit to St. Louis was a reception given in the lodge and club rooms of the “Elks.” [42] The event was regarded as of so much interest and importance, and the Elks is so excellent an institution, and the affair so different to anything associated with the theatre in England, that it merits special attention. The local reporter will not, I am sure, feel annoyed if I call in his aid to make the record complete:— The lodge and club rooms, the hall-ways and the corrido

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III.

III.

Two weeks were spent between St. Louis, Cincinnati, Indianapolis, and Columbus. The New York repertoire was played with excellent results in every way. “Indianapolis and Columbus,” said Irving, “are evidently behind St. Louis and Cincinnati in their appreciation of the arts; though I have no reason to complain, nor has Miss Terry. They came to the theatre in large numbers, were most excellent audiences, cordial in their reception of us, and flattering in their applause; but in walking through th

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II.

II.

On the following Monday and Tuesday the company appeared for two nights at Detroit, [48] the chief city of Michigan, to large and most friendly audiences. I was in New York at this time, and had arranged to meet Irving, Miss Terry, and a few friends, at Niagara, on Wednesday. “If Abbey is agreeable, I shall give the company a holiday, so that they can go to Niagara, [49] spend the day, and sleep in Toronto at night. It will do us all good.” Abbey was agreeable, and Wednesday, February 20, was on

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III.

III.

Wednesday morning was ushered in with a blizzard from the north-west. The roads that had been slushy the day before were hard as adamant. There was ice in the wind. The air was keen as a knife. A traveller who had come in from Manitoba said that during the night it was “as much as your life was worth to pass from one car to another.” Towards noon the weather moderated. The sun came out, the wind changed, the spray from the falls fell into the river. A rainbow stretched its luminous arch over the

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IV.

IV.

But nobody will ever know, except those who took part in the work, how much ingenuity, patience, and enterprise were expended on that dinner. It was ready to the minute. The guests all sat down together. There were turkeys and there were chickens, too. Horsemen had ridden hard half the night to bring them in. There were plum-puddings, also. Lovely maidens at Buffalo and Niagara, had been pressed into the service of stoning them. When Stoker, at midnight, in order to smooth the way, had telegraph

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I.

I.

Miss Terry watched the wild-looking business with amazement, and built up her courage on the experiences of the ladies who took the flying leap with delight. They were dressed in pretty flannel costumes, and their faces glowed with healthful excitement. But they were practised tobogganers. Some of them could not remember when they took their first slide. A sturdy officer of the club explained the simplicity of the sport to the famous actress, and offered to let her try half the slide, beginning

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II.

II.

The short season at Toronto was very successful, in every way. A great body of students filled the gallery of the Opera House every night. Stalls, boxes, and dress-circle were crowded, the audience being in full evening dress. The house looked like a London theatre on a first night. Boston and Philadelphia were the only cities that had shown anything like an approach to uniformity in dressing for the theatre in America, though New York made a good deal of display in regard to bonnets, costumes,

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III.

III.

Two hours after midnight we were once more on the cars, bound for Boston. [52] “These long journeys,” said Irving, “are most distressing. I wonder what sort of a trip this will be. We ought to arrive at Boston, on Sunday, at about six, they say.” “The agent of the road,” replied Mr. Palser, “tells me he hopes to make good time. But I told him that the only occasion when we have done a long journey on time has been when we had no railroad agent to take care of us. They are very good fellows, and

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IV.

IV.

During one of the very long delays in question Irving and I talked of many things. “You were speaking of the waste of food at hotels and restaurants one day,” Irving remarked. “I am told that at some of the best houses in Chicago the clean scraps that are left on dishes after each meal are collected and given to poor families every day. Children with large baskets call for them. Another class of scraps go to charitable institutions, more particularly Roman Catholic establishments. These are the

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V.

V.

“It was a glorious audience,” said the “Boston Daily Globe,” of February 26, “that welcomed Irving and Terry back to Boston last evening. No better evidence of the great popularity of the English artists could have been given than that which was implied in the presence of such an assemblage. The Boston was thronged, and the gathering represented the best class of our play-goers,—a company that accorded the stars a cordial greeting both, and that was appreciative of all the excellences that marke

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I.

I.

“Quite true.” “Then I can now understand,” is the rejoinder, “that the passengers on board the ‘Rome,’ when we came out, thought us a most respectable crowd.” “That has been remarked before,” says the buxom Martha of “Louis XI,” “and in far more complimentary terms.” Presently, through the mist on the larboard side, we catch a glimpse of the Brooklyn bridge. A few gulls are sweeping down the river before us. On both banks there are wharves and ships. One of the vessels flies the British flag, wh

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II.

II.

“You know the President,” said Irving, while we were travelling from Boston to Washington. “Yes; I met him once or twice during the contest when he was ultimately returned as Vice-President with General Garfield. His likeness had become very familiar to me before I saw him. Candidates for the high offices of state are not only photographed, but their pictures are painted in heroic proportions. You see them everywhere,—on flags and banners, in shop-windows, in the newspapers. But you will be in t

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III.

III.

“And I can only say,” remarked Irving, as we left the White House together, after his first interview with the President, “that, if his reëlection depended on my vote, he should have it. I know nothing about the political situation; but the man we have just left has evidently several qualities that I should say fit him for his office,—foremost among them is patience. I would also say that he has the virtue of self-denial, and he is certainly not impulsive. A kind-hearted man, I am sure, capable

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IV.

IV.

“Many Americans underrate the beauty of Washington,” I said. “Comparatively few of them have seen it, and hundreds who criticise it have not been south for a number of years. The growth of Washington is not only modern, it is of yesterday. The city was really little more than a village up to the date of the late war; and it was only in 1871 that the impetus was given to the public enterprise that has covered it with palaces, private and public. It is the only city of America in which the streets

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V.

V.

Washington society made itself most agreeable to both Irving and Miss Terry, though “Portia, on a trip from the Venetian seas,” to quote the New York reporter, made her visit to the capital an opportunity for rest. Electing this city for a holiday, being relieved of a week’s journey through New England, she remained at the capital on a visit to her friend, Miss Olive Seward, the adopted daughter of the famous minister of Lincoln’s administration. Among the social entertainments given in Irving’s

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VI.

VI.

It was quite like a council of war to see Irving, Loveday, Palser, and Stoker, bending over a map of the United States, during the journey from Washington to New York, en route for several New England cities. The chart was scanned with careful interest, Irving passing his finger over it here and there, not with the intensity of the overthrown monarch in “Charles the First,” but with a close scrutiny of routes. The chief was sketching out his next tour in America. “No more long journeys,” he said

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VII.

VII.

Following the New England cities come the last of the return visits,—Philadelphia, Brooklyn, [57] New York. They reindorsed the previous successes, and fully justified the decision of a second visit next season. One of the most interesting incidents of the second visit to Philadelphia was Irving’s entertainment in the new rooms of the “Clover Club.” [58] Accustomed to play the host, the club found itself in a novel position when it accepted that of guest. The occasion was one not likely to be fo

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I.

I.

“Oh,” said Porter, “those places belong to the last of the Manhattan squatters. Most of them are occupied by families, who, as a rule, pay little or no rent at all. They are on the outskirts of progress. As the city extends into their district they disappear, seeking ‘fresh woods and pastures new.’ Nevertheless some of them become quite firmly established there. They are included, for voting purposes, in the Twenty-fourth ward of the city. The houses, as you have observed, are not architecturall

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II.

II.

“We have not talked much about politics, eh? And a good thing, too. One only got really well into the atmosphere of political life at Washington; and then, after all, one heard more about literary copyright than anything else. I find I have made a note of a letter I read somewhere recently from an American painter, in support of taxing importations of fine art, more particularly pictures. It seems to me this is a grave mistake. I had no idea that protection, as it is called, existed so generally

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III.

III.

“Your work among New England cities,” I said, on his return visit to Brooklyn, “should impress upon you the grim quaintness of the story Mr. Emery Storrs told you concerning the annual festival called the ‘General Muster.’” “Yes; a queer story, was it not? And, no doubt, characteristic of some of the more remote little towns.” This is the story:— The militia muster, once a year, is a celebration peculiar more particularly to New England. It is called the “General Muster.” Each little town comes

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IV.

IV.

I have referred to the “theatre parties” of ladies and gentlemen who travelled many miles by railway to be present at the Irving performances. Several invitations to visit distant cities were also given, with guarantees of financial profit. Among these the most interesting and complimentary was a requisition from Kansas City, which is worth printing. I append it, with Irving’s reply:— Warwick Club, Kansas City, Mo. , Jan. 4, 1884. Mr. Henry Irving :— Dear Sir ,—We, the citizens of Kansas City, r

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V.

V.

“One thing I notice about the American cabmen and drivers generally,” said Irving,—“they do not chaff each other as the London men in the same positions do. They don’t appear to be cheerful; don’t discuss among themselves the news of the day; they treat each other as if they were strangers. English people, as a rule, complain of the cab-fares here; but they forget, on the other hand, to say that the cabs, or coupés , as they call them, are beautifully appointed vehicles; private broughams, in fa

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VI.

VI.

The “Southern Hotel,” at St. Louis, displayed prominently engraven upon a tablet, near the principal staircase, the dates when it had been burned down and rebuilt. The “Tremont,” at Chicago, recorded on its handsome new building the fact that it had been destroyed by fire, Oct. 27, 1839; July 9, 1849; and Oct. 9, 1871. “Having dwelt upon these dates with a little misgiving,” said a member of Mr. Irving’s company, “some of us felt almost alarmed when, on closing our bedroom doors, a card headed ‘

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VII.

VII.

“Do you remember the poetic speech, in verse and prose, that William Winter [60] made at the banquet in Lafayette place?” I asked. “Yes, indeed,” Irving replied. “The two stanzas with which he introduced it were singularly musical, I thought.” “Here they are. I wanted him to write out the heads of his speech for me; but he had only written down his verses, and here they are, as dainty as they are fraternal. I. “‘If we could win from Shakespeare’s river The music of its murmuring flow, With all t

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VIII.

VIII.

“Will you please tell me about the report, cabled from London to the American press, that you propose to stand for Parliament, in the Liberal interest, on your return to England?” asked a journalistic interviewer, at Boston. “I can only say that the report is entirely unfounded. It arose, I imagine, from my election to the Reform Club. You know they do occasionally elect out-of-the-way fellows, such as I am, in the matter of politics. The welcome news reached me last night in my dressing-room at

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IX.

IX.

One day, during “this interval after dinner,” which is “passed in study and meditation,” Irving said, “Have you followed out all the story of the Bisbee murderers?” “Yes,” I said. “It is one of those strange cases of lawlessness, that I have taken out of the newspapers for my scrap-book. Charles Reade [61] would have been interested in it. Have you ever seen his scrap-books?” “No,” said Irving; “are they very remarkable?” “Yes, and in my slovenly attempts to save newspaper cuttings I often think

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X.

X.

“Tombstone,” he said presently, “is a curious name for a town.” “Some friends of mine,” I said, “have business interests there. It got its name in this way: a party of young pioneers decided to go there on a prospecting expedition. They were ridiculed, and told by another party, who had refused to join them, that all they would find would be a tomb. The adventurers, however, discovered mineral treasures, of enormous extent, started a town, and, as a derisive answer to their prophetic friend, cal

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XI.

XI.

“It is a lesson in the evolution of towns, these incidents of the pushing out of the frontiers of a great country,” said Irving. “I dare say Denver began its career as a mining-camp.” “It did; and only a few years ago.” “And now they tell me it is a beautiful and well-ordered city, with the finest opera-house in all America.” “That is so; and one day you ought to play there.” “I hope I may; I would like it very much. By the way, your bill about ‘The Bazoo’ excursion reminds me of two curious pla

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XII.

XII.

“And now,” continued Irving, “to go back to your opening, where we rather discount Raymond’s stories of the wild life of Texas. Have you seen the ‘Herald’s’ latest sensation?” “No.” “Not the Texan tragedy?” “Here it is, then; listen to the heads of it: ‘Two Crime-stained Ruffians die with their Boots on—Pistol Shots in a Theatre—Killed in Self-defence by Men whose Lives they sought—The Heroes of many Murders!’” He handed me the paper, saying, “Read that! And yet we chaffed poor Raymond!” I read

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I.

I.

Irving, as he speaks, illustrates his own view of the scene. “Then we will try it again.” The scene is repeated. “Yes, very good, that will do.” The rehearsal goes on. “No, no,” says Irving, “there must be no wait; the second procession must come on promptly at the cue. Try it again. And hold your halberd like this, my boy; not as if you were afraid of it. There, that’s it.” The supernumerary accepts his lesson; the music cue is repeated; the halberdiers file in; the military strains cease, the

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II.

II.

Next day, when the success of the night had been duly chronicled in the press, [63] I suggested to Irving that we should place on record some account of the manner in which the Lyceum scenery, dresses, and properties had been dealt with on the tour; to what extent the equipment with which he had set out had been used; and, as a concluding chapter, that we should tell the story of the production of “Much Ado” in New York. After a consultation with Loveday, and the verification of some necessary s

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III.

III.

“But to return to ‘Much Ado,’” I said; “let us go a little into detail as to the number of scenes, cloths, flats, properties, and changes there are in the work. To have got through the piece, without a hitch, within three hours on the first night, is a very remarkable performance.” “Well, then, there are five acts in the play, thirteen scenes. Every scene is a set, except two, and they are front cloths; there is not a carpenter’s scene proper in the entire representation. To begin with, there is

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