FOOTNOTES:

“London, Oct. 17, 1883.

“The ‘Standard,’ in an editorial this morning, thus appeals to America for a dispassionate judgment of Henry Irving:—

“American audiences have a favorable opportunity of showing that they can think for themselves, and do not slavishly echo the criticisms of the English press. We confess that, though one has read many eulogistic notices of Mr. Irving and listened in private to opinions of different complexions, it is difficult to find anything written respecting him that deserves to be dignified with the description of serious criticisms. Cannot New York, Boston, and Chicago supply us with a little of this material? Are we indulging vain imaginings if we hope that our cousins across the water will forget all that has been said or written about Irving and the Lyceum company this side of the ocean, and will go to see him in his chief performances with unprejudiced eyes and ears, and send us, at any rate, a true, independent, inconventional account of his gifts and graces, or the reverse?

“Most Englishmen naturally will be gratified if the people of the United States find Irving as tragic, and Miss Terry as charming, as so many people in this country consider them. But the gratification will be increased should it be made apparent that a similar conclusion has been arrived at by the exercise of independent judgment, and if in pronouncing it fresh light is thrown upon the disputed points of theatrical controversy.”

“As she stepped with a pretty little shudder over the swaying plank upon the yacht she showed herself possessed of a marked individuality. Her dress consisted of a dark greenish-brown cloth wrap, lined inside with a peculiar shade of red; the inner dress, girt at the waist with a red, loosely folded sash, seemed a reminiscence of some eighteenth-century portrait, while the delicate complexion caught a rosy reflection from the loose flame-colored red scarf tied in a bow at the neck. The face itself is a peculiar one. Though not by ordinary canons beautiful, it is nevertheless one to be remembered, and seems to have been modelled on that of some pre-Raphaelitish saint,—an effect heightened by the aureole of soft golden hair escaping from under the plain brown straw and brown velvet hat.”

“On the occasion alluded to, Mr. Macready introduced a fancy dance into his performance of Hamlet, which I designated as a pas de mouchoir, and which I hissed, for I thought it a desecration of the scene; and the audience thought so, too; for, a few nights afterwards, when Mr. Macready repeated the part of Hamlet with the same ‘tomfoolery,’ the intelligent audience greeted it with a universal hiss.

“Mr. Macready is stated to have said last night that he ‘had never entertained towards me a feeling of unkindness.’ I unhesitatingly pronounce this to be a wilful and unblushing falsehood. I most solemnly aver, and do believe, that Mr. Macready, instigated by his narrow, envious mind and selfish fears, did secretly—not openly—suborn several writers for the English press to write me down. Among them was one Forster, a ‘toady’ of the eminent tragedian,—one who is ever ready to do his dirty work; and this Forster, at the bidding of his patron, attacked me in print, even before I had appeared upon the London boards, and continued to abuse me at every opportunity afterwards.

“I assert also, and solemnly believe, that Mr. Macready connived, when his friends went to the theatre in London, to hiss me, and did hiss me, with the purpose of driving me from the stage; and all this happened many months before the affair at Edinburgh, to which Mr. Macready refers, and in relation to which he jesuitically remarked, that ‘until that act he never entertained towards me a feeling of unkindness.’”

It is worth while adding in this place the following interesting account of the fatal riot, which is extracted from Barrett’s life of Edwin Forrest published by Jas. R. Osgood & Co., in 1881:—

“On the 7th of May, 1848, Macready began an engagement at the Astor Place Opera House, under the management of J. H. Hackett. The theatre was packed by his enemies, and he was hooted from the stage. He prepared to return to his own country, but was persuaded by his friends to remain, in order that he might see how far the public indorsed the opposition against him. An invitation to this effect, signed by many of the best citizens of New York, was taken as a defiance by the admirers of Forrest, who prepared to meet the issue. Forrest was playing at the Broadway Theatre, and on the 16th of May, Macready, at the Astor Place house, was announced to reappear as Macbeth. The authorities had been called to the aid of the signers of the call, and when the doors were opened the theatre was instantly filled by a crowd of persons favorable to the actor, while the great mass of his enemies were excluded. These filled the street, however, while the few who did gain admission showed their opposition upon the appearance of Macready. At the first attempt the assailants were confronted by a body of Macready’s friends within the theatre too powerful to be resisted; but the majority without added a threatening reinforcement when the decisive moment for violence should arrive.

“The play was stopped. Macready, hustled from the back door in the cloak of a friend, barely escaped with his life, and the mimic tragedy within doors gave way to the approaching real tragedy without. The theatre was attacked on all sides by the mob, and its destruction seemed inevitable. Troops were called out; the order was given to disperse. The angry crowd only hooted a reply of derision. The riot act was read amid the yells and oaths of the blood-seeking rabble; stones and missiles were hurled at the Seventh Regiment; the police gave way before the overpowering numbers of the mob, and at last, the soldiers, sore pressed, wounded, and nearly demoralized by the assaults which they were not allowed to repulse, were called upon to fire. They responded with blank cartridges, which only increased the fury of the crowd. A pause, and then the order was given to load with balls. A volley was fired: the cries were hushed; the smoke cleared away; the ground was red with the blood of some thirty unfortunate men; the rioters vanished into the darkness before that hail of wrath, and the stain of blood was upon that quarrel which began far away in Old England and ended so tragically here.”

The Chief Justice spoke in eloquent terms of Lord Coleridge, whom the American bar and bench had been proud to honor, and who, in his private and public life, realized the highest ideal of the American people. “It is our desire,” he said, “the sincerest wish of America, to like the English people. We are always afraid that our visitors from the old country will not let us like them. When they do, and we can honestly respond, we are glad.” Presently, alluding to Irving, he said, “We have watched your career over a long period of time, through the New York papers. We were prepared to be interested in you, and to bid you welcome. No people are more moved than ours to exercise their free and unbiased judgment. We have done so in your case, and are proud to acknowledge the greatness of the work you have done; to welcome you and to take your hand, not only for what you have achieved in England, but for what you have done for us in America.”

Ex-Mayor Oakey Hall, in the course of some remarks supplementary of the speech of the Lord Chief Justice, said, “A morning cable despatch informs me that the Millais portrait of our guest was yesterday added to the walls of the Garrick Club, in completion of its gallery of David Garrick’s legitimate successors. But on the walls of our memories to-night has been hung the original,—impressive features, poetic eyes and hair, and a face so bright that it this moment reflects our looks of personal affection. I have had the personal felicity, thrice within the past fortnight, of seeing our guest in the serenity of private life. Friends knowing this have said to me, ‘How did you like Henry Irving on the stage?’ And I have answered, ‘I have not yet seen Mr. Irving act.’ True, I had seen on the stage of the Star Theatre, Mathias, and Charles the First, and Louis the Eleventh, and Shylock, and Duboscq and Lesergne, and against these characters I had seen printed on the bills of the play the name of Henry Irving; but never had it otherwise occurred to me, as an auditor, that the guest now before us,—original of the Millais picture,—and whom I saw at the banquets of the Lotos and Manhattan clubs, was representing these characters. On the contrary, I cannot connect Henry Irving, the gentleman of private life, with the actor. If you say he is the same, I must believe you. Indeed, I am now conscious of having lived in the seventeenth century, and of having beheld the veritable Charles as a man caressing his children and his Henrietta Maria,—a wife rather than a queen,—on the banks of the Thames, at Hampton Court, or as Majesty rebuking Oliver Cromwell. Nay, I have stood with Charles himself in the Whitehall Chamber of Death, and with my own streaming eyes I have witnessed his touching farewell of home and earth. I have forgotten the merchants of New York in the boxes, and I have really seen Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice. I have seen the dreaming victim of remorse. I have lived in the war-rent realms of France, while Louis the Eleventh infected his court with his own moral leprosy. I have known in ‘The Lyons Mail,’ the self-respecting and shrinking merchant, and I have known his double, the besotted brute of a murderer. They are all realities to me at this moment. If you again tell me one man personated all these, and that this one man was the original yonder of the Millais portrait, I must believe you, for your honor’s sake. During an active career of a quarter century I never had seen an approach to such a surrender of personal identity in an actor, nor such a surrender of the peculiarities of one representation when the actor grasped another. How all this contradicts a lively writer in the current (November) number of Clement Scott’s ‘Theatre,’ who declares that every great success of the stage is due to a correspondence of the natural peculiarities of an actor with the fictional peculiarities of the character portrayed! Is yonder gentleman a victim to remorse? Is he a Shylock? Is he a Duboscq? Has he the soul of a Charles? Least of all, has he one peculiarity of Louis? No. Then these great successes are won—if yonder guest be the actor—by a destruction of personal peculiarities and by portraying his own precise opposites, in his human nature. You have all seen these recently enacted characters. You now—some of you for the first time—behold the man Henry Irving, and hear him converse. To you as a jury, then, I appeal. Am I not right? Is not my experience yours?” (Aye!—Yes!—Yes!—and great applause.)

“Hotel Bellevue, Philadelphia,

29th November (‘Thanksgiving Day’), 1883.

“To the Editor of the Evening Call:—

“My Dear Sir,—Upon this day of universal thankfulness allow me to add a personal item. My thanks to you and your magnificent band for the honor done to me this morning by their serenade. I enjoyed the music much, and beg to add my tribute of praise to the worth of your band which, to my mind, is amongst the best I have heard. To hear the strains of the national anthem of my own dear land here and on such a day touched me much, and assures me again in a forcible manner of the strength of the affection between the two countries, America and England.

“Believe me to be, dear sir, yours very faithfully,

“HENRY IRVING.”

—Evening Call.

Mr. Irving came in shortly after Miss Terry arrived, accompanied by Joseph Hatton and an escort from the Press Club. The great actor was a centre of attraction, and he submitted in the most kindly manner to the ordeal of introductions and the pressing multitude of guests who moved about the rooms. About midnight lunch was served. It was nearly one o’clock when Mr. Irving, Miss Terry, and Mr. Terriss departed. Most of the company remained, and listened to some fine singing by George Sweet and Miss Lena Hastreiter. It was nearly two o’clock before the other guests dispersed. Among the many present were the following: Mr. and Mrs. Will. J. Davis, Miss Grace Cartland, Mr. and Mrs. James W. Scott, Mr. and Mrs. Franc B. Wilkie, Miss Ada M. Dunne, Mr. and Mrs. Leo Canman, Mr. and Mrs. George Broderick, Professor Swing, Emery A. Storrs, Miss May Waldren, C. P. Dresser, W. D. Eaton, Walter Meadowcroft, E. A. Barron, Elliott Durand, Mr. and Mrs. C. H. McConnell, R. J. Murphy, Judge and Mrs. Bradwell, Mr. and Mrs. John B. Jeffery, John M. Ayer, Professor Bastin, Col. and Mrs. Nat. Reed, John A. Hamlin, John Hambline, Mr. and Mrs. F. A. Rice, Mr. and Mrs. Frank C. Cooper, E. P. Hall, Professor R. Welsh and Mrs. Welsh, Miss Bessie Bradwell, Henry W. Thomson, Miss Kate McPhelin, Mrs. McPhelin, Mr. and Mrs. Wash. Hesing, Miss Gertie Buckley, Miss Lillian Powell, Miss Clark, Al. Clark, H. D. Russell, Mr. and Mrs. F. G. Logan, Miss Van Inwegan, Mr. and Mrs. T. Z. Cowles, J. M. Dandy, and T. C. MacMillan.—Morning News.

“The court-scene is a masterpiece, and is filled with so many details that the spectator follows the action with lively interest, and imagines himself in a real court of law. The decoration of the last act, a wonderful park scene, with moonlight, was ravishing, and the madrigals behind the scene were charmingly melodious, and were also excellently sung; in a word, one saw a great performance of ‘The Merchant of Venice,’ and not only Mr. Irving, as Shylock, or Miss Terry, as Portia. By that we do not mean to say that Henry Irving’s performance was less great; on the contrary, he confirmed and fortified, through his Shylock, the judgment we pronounced upon his ‘Louis XI.’ His reading is entirely the same as Döring’s, who ranked as the best Shylock in Germany, and who has not yet found a successor. It is the covetous, vindictive Jew; but he is rather an object of pity than of scorn. It was the Jew whose passionate temperament and inexorable vengeance naturally seized upon the first opportunity of gratifying his hatred towards the Christians, who heaped mockeries, insults, and injustice upon him, particularly Antonio, who treated him with the utmost scorn. This was the Jew Shakespeare drew, played by Mr. Irving with the refinement of an artist and the sharp observance of a philologist.... His facial expression is mobile and most expressive ... and his speech has only just the accent by which the Jews of that class are known. His acting in the first scene, in the scene with Tubal, and, above all, in the court-scene (particularly the passing from cruel, passionate joy to the consciousness of his own torpid despair), was the true work of a great actor.... Miss Ellen Terry, who plays Portia, was reported from other towns where she had appeared to be a great actress: the audience was, therefore, highly expectant.... She took the public from first to last by storm.... She is one of those endowed actresses, who shine so completely in the character they represent that the spectator forgets the actress, and only sees the person represented in the piece.”

“New York, Jan. 20, 1884.

“Mr. Irving:—

“Dear Sir,—The creation and development of a taste for true dramatic art among the colored citizens of culture in New York city, having been long regarded as a necessity to their intellectual growth, a number of ladies and gentlemen, selected for their evidences of dramatic ability, which they have shown from time to time, met on the evening of January 7, and perfected the organization of the ‘Irving Dramatic Club.’ In apprising you of this fact we beg leave to assure you, sir, that, in selecting your name for the title of our club, we did not choose it because we felt we were conferring an honor,—far from it,—for we well know that the mere naming of an amateur club could add nothing to the lustre of the laurels so deservedly won by one who so fittingly represents as yourself all that is noble and grand in dramatic art. But, having in our mind the record of past events, we could not fail to recognize that the English stage and its representatives were but the synonyms of equity and justice.

“Thus, in searching for a patron, we naturally reverted to that source from which our efforts were mostly to be regarded with favor; and, acting upon this impulse, we could think of no name that would be a greater incentive to conscientious and praiseworthy effort than that of Irving.

“Hoping that this action will meet with your approval, we remain, with best wishes for your health and prosperity, respectfully yours,

“IRVING DRAMATIC CLUB.

“Charles G. Bowser, Pres’t.

“W. H. A. Moore, Sec’y.”

“St. Louis, Jan. 26, 1884.

“Dear Sir,—I have received your letter of the 20th, and it gives me great pleasure to have my name associated with so gratifying an intellectual movement among the colored citizens of New York as the establishment of a Dramatic Club. Art is of no country, and has no nationality. Europe is deeply indebted to the artistic culture of the great colored people of the Eastern World, and there is promise of a future for your race, in the fact that you have ceased to feel the disabilities of color in your association with your white fellow-citizens. I once had the pleasure of knowing a very famous actor of your race,—Ira Aldridge. I wish for your club a prosperous career, and beg to subscribe myself,

“Yours truly,————HENRY IRVING.”

At half-past three Mr. Irving and Miss Terry were found in opposite corners of the room, each surrounded by an animated group. Miss Terry, over whom some of the younger ladies were mad with curiosity, was completely hemmed in, and was given no opportunity to move about, as Irving did. She sat during intervals in an old arm-chair, covered with red plush. She wore an artistic gown, with a Watteau plait. Her fair hair curled from beneath a round French hat, covered with brown velvet, and with a dark feather. At her neck was an eccentric scarf of orange-colored satin. Prior to the reception Mr. Irving and Miss Terry lunched with Mr. Samuel McLean, President of the club, at his residence, 47 Pierrepoint street; among his fourteen guests being Mrs. Buckstone (his sister), Mr. and Mrs. Henry Ward Beecher, and Mr. and Mrs. John Foord. Those present at the club reception included Mr. and Mrs. Bryan H. Smith, Mrs. George Prentiss, Mr. and Mrs. Crowell Hadden, Mrs. S. C. Lynes, Mr. and Mrs. Chas. Ide, Mr. and Mrs. S. B. Chittenden, Captain McKenzie, Alex. Forman, Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Turner, Mr. and Mrs. Alex. Cameron, Mrs. F. P. Bellamy, Mr. and Mrs. William C. De Witt, Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Yeoman, Mr. and Mrs. Charles A. Robbins, Mrs. Hattie Otis, Amos Robbins, A. F. Goodnow, Mr. and Mrs. John T. Howard, Mr. and Mrs. Henry Sheldon, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Phelps, Mrs. Washington A. Roebling, Mrs. Packer, Mr. and Mrs. J. S. T. Stranahan, Mr. and Mrs. Josiah Low, John Winslow, Mrs. P. Lynch, Mrs. Callender, Adrian Van Sinderen, John N. Peet, Mr. Bram Stoker and Mr. H. J. Loveday (of Mr. Irving’s company), Mrs. Joseph Hatton and Miss Helen H. Hatton (of London), Miss Abbie O. Nichols, Mrs. John A. Buckingham, Mrs. Birch, Mr. and Mrs. N. W. C. Hatch, Mr. and Mrs. Gordon L. Ford, the Rev. Dr. Hutton, Mr. and Mrs. Geo. W. Mead and daughter, Mr. and Mrs. McKean, Mr. and Mrs. F. W. Morse, Mr. and Mrs. Robert H. Turle, Mr. and Mrs. Mackie, Charles Bill, Mrs. Ropes, Mr. and Mrs. John Foord, Mr. Samuel McLean, and Mr. and Mrs. Rodman.—Brooklyn Times, and Brooklyn Union, March 30.