EwlMHwnff n^tyjftl 'ift ;■;!!;■):?■;*;:«' :'::•^'•i:i';^^^W;i•S8!*:S!iim SIR HENRY IRVING PERCY FITZGERALD # ^. nfti^A^e/yi , \ SIR HENRY IRVING A BIOGRAPHY BY PERCY FITZGERALD AUTHOR OF "THE LIFE OF DAVID CARRICK," "FIFTY YEARS OF CATHOLIC LIFE," " I.ADV JEAN," ETC. "As in a theatre the eyes of men, After a well-grac'd actor leaves the stage, Are idly bent on him that enters next." PHILADELPHIA GEORGE W. JACOBS & CO PUBLISHERS (All rights reserved.) £3 n ca M ,^ TO CD GEORGE ALEXANDER C3 i ^u* 77GS0 Preface THUS early, after the death of the great actor, I venture to offer this new and revised account of his very romantic life and work. I have dwelt more especially on the former, as it is agreed that herein was found his chief power or attraction. It is, in fact, the story of his ever engaging cha- racter and fashions that I have attempted to bring home before the reader, showing him in his habit as he lived. There have been many elaborate accounts of his acting and managerial career, set off plentifully with dates of performances, casts of characters, and criti- cisms. These things have beyond doubt their value ; but they make heavy and uninteresting reading. You cannot see the wood for the trees. I prefer to let the agreeable and original actor pro- menade it about through these pages according to his humour. I had the advantage of knowing him for some thirty years ; and from the first, as will be seen here, on the most intimate terms with him vu viii PREFACE and his following — hence I can speak with full knowledge. The present is practically the third issue of this life. It was written under Irving's hearty en- couragement, and all the earlier sheets were revised and corrected by him. However, later on when I came to dealing critically with his performances it became a rather too delicate matter for an actor's supervision, and I felt that it was better to give over the submission of the sheets to him — I am afraid not exactly to his satisfaction. It has been thoroughly revised — large additions have been made which cover a period of some ten years, and bring the work down to his lamented death. It will be seen that I have written independently and freely. Unlike the general crowd of admirers, and perhaps flatterers, for whom everything in their hero was '■'■ superbe ! '' ''' niagnifique ! '' "■dernier crif" &c., I have pointed out all that might seem faulty or exaggerated to trained and impartial judges. I have dwelt on what were his real gifts and merits, as well as on their limits. Praising indiscriminately is no praise at all. I may add that particular attention has been given to the illustrations in this volume. No one has been so copiously "limned" as this actor. I myself have filled some twenty huge folios with such pictures. I may call attention to the fine portrait which forms the frontispiece, as a truly artistic and successful rendering" of Irving-'s thoughtful and expressive features, adapted as it PREFACE ix were to the part he was playing. With this the reader may contrast the one given at the close of the volume, which shows him with his everyday countenance and costume, the former worn and sharpened — aged also — by the wear and tear of performances. Contents CHAPTER I PAGE SCHOOL-DAYS — EARLY TASTE FOR THE STAGE — FIRST APPEARANCE (1838 — 1 856) . . . . I CHAPTER n EDINBURGH AND THE SCOTTISH THEATRES (1857 — 1859) . 12 CHAPTER HI THE ST. James's theatre — 'hunted down' — the new VAUDEVILLE THEATRE — 'THE TWO ROSES ' (1866) . 33 CHAPTER IV 'THE BELLS' — WILLS'S 'CHARLES I.' (1871) . . 46 CHAPTER V 'hamlet' — 'OTHELLO' — ' MACBETH ' — DEATH OF "THE COLONEL" — 'QUEEN MARY ' (1874) . . .60 xii CONTENTS CHAPTER VI ? THE LYCEUM — SYSTEM AND ASSISTANTS (1878) . , . 81 PAGE THE NEW MANAGER OF THE LYCEUM — MISS TERRY — HIS CHAPTER Vn 'THE MERCHANT OF VENICE' (1879) . 102 CHAPTER VIII 'THE CORSICAN BROTHERS' AND 'THE CUP ' (1880) . 1 13 CHAPTER IX 'OTHELLO' AND 'THE TWO ROSES ' REVIVED (1881) , 125 CHAPTER X 'ROMEO AND JULIET' — THE BANQUET (1882) . . 140 CHAPTER XI ' MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING ' — AMERICAN VISIT ARRANGED (1882) 147 CHAPTER XII ' TWELFTH NIGHT ' — ' THE VICAR OF WAKEFIELD ' — OXFORD HONOURS (1884) .... l6l CHAPTER XIII ' FAUST ' ' WERNER ' — ' MACAIRE' — THE ACTOR'S SOCIAL GIFTS (1887) . . . . . .187 CONTENTS xiii CHAPTER XIV PAGE 'MACBETH' — 'THE DEAD HEART' — ' RAVENSWOOD ' (1888) 20I CHAPTER XV 'king lear' — 'becket' (1892) .... 220 CHAPTER XVI KING ARTHUR' — CORPORAL BREWSTER — HONOURS (1893) 233 CHAPTER XVII SOCIAL GIFTS ...... 247 CHAPTER XVIII SYMPTOMS OF DECAY . . . . -255 CHAPTER XIX RING DOWN THE CURTAIN ..... 272 CHAPTER XX CHARACTER AND GENERAL ATTRACTION . , . 285 List of Illustrations SIR HENRY IRVING . . . . From a Photograph by H. H. H. Cameron. irving's birthplace at KEINTON MANDEYILLE irving's first playbill . . . , IRVING ...... From an early Photograph by Chancellor. IRVING AND From an early Photograph. IRVING AS M.ATTHIAS IN 'THE BELLS' IRVING AS JINGLE IRVING AS CHARLES I. ... IRVING AS HAMLET From Onslow Ford's Statue. IRVING AS DUBOSC .... From a Bust by the Author. IRVING AS VANDERDECKEN ELLEN TERRY ..... From an early Photograph by Elliott and Fry. IRVING AS HAMLET From Edwin Long's Painting. ELLEN TERRY AS PORTIA IRVING AS SHYLOCK XV Frontispiece Facing page r 15 23 33 46 49 56 62 73 75 85 94 103 105 Facing page 122 •> 127 » 165 )> 167 )) 172 n 177 ») 188 » 197 IT 214 226 xvi LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS THE LYCEUM LION ..... RIVAL HAMLETS ..... IRVING AS THE VICAR AND ELLEN TERRY AS OLIVIA IRVING AS THE VICAR .... THE REVIVAL OF ' FAUST ' AT THE LYCEUM THEATRE MEPHISTO, THE ACTOK .... IRVING AS ROBERT MACAIRE IRVING IN HIS DRESSING-ROOM AT THE LYCEUM From a Drawing by Paul Renouard. IRVING AS CARDINAL WOLSEY IRVING AS BECKET ..... IRVING READING TENNYSON'S ' HECKET ' IN THE RESTORED CHAPTER - HOUSE OF CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL ...... „ 228 IRVING AT HOME ..... „ 24I 'DON QUIXOTE' ...... „ 253 From a Drawing by Phil JIay. ROBESPIERRE REFLECTING .... „ 265 From a Drawing by Harry Furniss. THE NERVOUS AND SUSPICIOUS ROBESPIERRE . . „ 267 From a Drawing by Harry Furniss. IRVING WITH MISS LENA ASHWELL IN 'DANTE' . „ 269 IRVING AS DANTE ..... „ 270 PROGRAMME OF IRVING'S FAREWELL PERFORMANCE . „ 276 IRVING'S ROOM AT THE LYCEUM .... „ 284 " WHAT A KNIGHT WE'RE HAVING ! " . . „ 288 Cartoon by Linley Sambourue. SIR HENRY IRVING. ..... „ 273 From a late Photograph by Histed. Irving's Birthplack at Keinton Mandevillk (The house on the right is where the great actor was born ) Photo by E. 6'. Russell. To face /.. I . CHAPTER I 1838-1856 SCHOOL-DAYS EARLY TASTE FOR THE STAGE FIRST APPEARANCE HENRY IRVING was born at Keinton, near Glastonbury, in Somersetshire, on February 6, 1838. His real name was John Henry Brodribb. "The last place God made " has been the description given of this little town — Keinton- Mandeville. The house in which the future actor was born is still pointed out — a small two-storied dwelling — lately " bought in " for ^600. Henry Irving's mother was Sarah Behenna, a woman of strong, marked character, who early took the child into Cornwall to her sister Penberthy. Thus was he brought up among miners and mining captains in a district " stern and wild," where lessons of dogged toil and perseverance were to be learned. The earliest books he read were his Bible, some old English ballads, and " Don Quixote," a character which he had long had a fancy for performing. In an intimate causerie with his and my friend Joseph Hatton, he strayed back 2 1 2 SIR HENRY IRVING to these early days of childhood, when he called up some strikinor scenes of those old mininor associa- tions. This aunt Penberthy was a resolute, striking woman, firm and even grim of purpose, and the scenes in which she figured have a strong flavour, as Mr. Hatton suggests, of Currer Bell's stories. Shortly after his birth the father removed to London, but the wife — a woman of purpose — resolved to bring up the child in the country. He was accordingly left to the care of his aunt Penberthy, married to a strange being, captain of a Cornish mine near St. Ives. As Irving told Mr. Hatton, one day the giant uncle was angry. "He walked," said Sir Henry, "into the kitchen where we youngsters were, and began to smash everything he could lay his hands on. He took up the chairs and broke them across his knee, and they were pretty strong, too — nothing, how- ever, to him ; he snapped them as if they had been the merest sticks. Drawers, tables, he smashed everything ; then walked out and went back to the mine. We were all terrified while this was going on. As for me, I got behind the door or anywhere else out of his way." But the tactful aunt healed the sore. She did not scold. But when the captain returned in the evening, " he paused at the open doorway of the kitchen, flung back his chest, and gave forth a great burst of laughter. You never heard such a laugh ; it was tremendous. My aunt laughed, too. What do you think he laughed at.'* The wreck of the furniture had been got together and SCHOOL-DAYS 3 displayed by my aunt, as if the whole business was a huge joke. Broken chairs, table-legs, a cupboard door, pieces of an old seat, all manner of things were hung upon the walls, as if they were pictures, articles of virtu, bric-a-brac. And this was all that occurred. There was no scene ; only the laughter. During the next day or two the place was put to rights, and never for a moment did the affair disturb the happiness of the household ; she knew how to live with her husband, and he loved her in his big, devil-may-care kind of way." ^ He was early sent to a school then directed by Dr. Pinches, in George Yard, Lombard Street, close by the "George and Vulture," which still happily stands, and where Mr. Pickwick always put up when he was in town. There were about a hundred boys, one of whom was called Dickens. At this academy, on some exhibition day, he pro- posed to recite a rather gruesome piece called ' The Uncle,' to which his preceptor strongly objected, when he substituted the more orthodox ' Defence of Hamilton Rowan,' by Curran. More than thirty years later, when the boy had become famous, and was giving a benefit at his own theatre to a veteran player — Mr. Creswick — the latter, coming before the curtain, related to the audience this little anecdote. " I was once," he said, " invited to hear some schoolboys recite speeches previous to their breaking up for the ' Daily News, Oct. i6, 1905. Before his death, the actor was dictating to Mr. Austin Brereton a long and minute account of these early, childish days — which has recently been issued. 4 SIR HENRY IRVING holidays. The schoolmaster was an old friend of mine, whom I very much respected. The room was filled from wall to wall with the parents and friends of the pupils. I was not much entertained with the first part ; I must confess that I was a little bored ; but suddenly there came out a lad who at once struck me as being rather uncommon, and he riveted my attention. The performance, I think, was a scene from ' Ion,' in which he played Adrastus. I well saw that he left his schoolfellows a long way behind. That schoolboy was Master Henry Irving. Seeing that he had dramatic aptitude, I gave him a word of encouragement, perhaps the first he had ever received, and certainly the first he had received from one in the dramatic profession, to which he is now a distinguished honour." Sir Edward Clarke, who was sent to the school after Irving left it, long after made humorous complaint at a Theatrical Fund dinner that, on exhibiting his own powers at the same school, he used to be regu- larly told, "Very good — very fair; but you should have heard Irving do it." On leaving the school, it was determined that the future actor should adopt a commercial career, and he was placed in the offices of Messrs. Thacker, " Indian Merchants in Newg-ate Street." He was then about fourteen, and remained in the house four years.' Mr. Edward Russell, of the old Haymarket, was with him at Thacker's, and describes his elation ' 87 was the number ; and Messrs. Lyons and Co., who now occupy the premises, are having a tablet placed on the wall to commemorate the actor. EARLY TASTE FOR THE STAGE 5 at the purchase of some stage properties, also the affection of the worthy old Thacker for his clerk. His eyes were even now straying from his desk to the stage. He was constantly reading plays and poetry, and seeking opportunity for practice in the art in which he felt he was destined so to excel, and even reciting in the street. At this time, about 1853, the late Mr. Phelps' intelligent efforts, and the admirable style in which he presented classical dramas, were exciting interest and even enthusiasm among young men. I now look back with pleasure to the pilgrimages to the far-off Sadler's Wells Theatre, where so intel- lectual an entertainment was provided and sustained with admirable taste for many seasons. What was called " The Elocution Class " was one of the results. It was directed by a Mr. Henry Thomas with much intelligence : his svstem was to encourage his pupils to recite pieces of their own selection, on which the criticisms of the listeners were freely given and invited. " On one evening," says one of Irving's old class-fellows, "a youth presented himself as a new member. He was rather tall for his age, dressed in a black suit, with what is called a round jacket, and a deep white linen collar turned over it. His face was very handsome, with a mass of black hair, and eyes bright and flashing with intelligence. He was called on for his first recita- tion, and fairly electrified the audience with an unusual display of elocutionary and dramatic in- tensity." This was Henry Irving. By and by the elocution class was moved to the Sussex 6 SIR HENRY IRVING Hall, in Leadenhall Street, when something more ambitious was attempted in the shape of regular dramatic performances. The pieces were chiefly farces, such as ' Boots at the Swan,' or ' Little Toddlekins,' though more serious plays were per- formed. It was remarked that the young performer was invariably perfect in his "words." In spite of his youth he gave great effect to such characters as Wilford in ' The Iron Chest,' and others of a melodramatic cast. A still more ambitious effort was Tobin's ' Honeymoon,' given at the little Soho Theatre, with full accompaniments of scenery, dresses, and decoration ; and here the young aspirant won great applause. It was to be expected that this success and these associations should more and more encouragfe him in his desire of adopting a profession to which he felt irresistibly drawn. He was, of course, a visitor to the theatres, and always recalled the extraordi- nary impression left upon him by Phelps' perform- ances. In every one's experience is found one of these "epoch-making" incidents, which have an influence we are often scarcely conscious of; and every thinking person knows the value of such " turning-points " in music or literature. The young man's taste was no caprice, or stage-struck fancy ; he would try his powers deliberately; and before going to see a play would exercise himself in regular study of its parts, attempting to lay out the action, business, &c., according to his ideas. Many years later, in America, he said that when he was a youth he never went to a theatre EARLY TASTE FOR THE STAGE 7 except to see a Shakespearian play — in fact, for instruction. At Sadler's Wells there was a painstaking actor called Hoskins, who was attracted by the young fellow's conscientious spirit, and who agreed to give him a few lessons in his art. These were fixed for eight o'clock in the morning, so as not to interfere with commercial business. Hoskins introduced him to Phelps, who listened to his efforts with some of that gnarled impassibility which was characteristic of him ; then in his blunt, good-natured way, gave him this advice : " Young man, have nothing to do with the stage ; it is a bad profession ! " Such, indeed, is the kindest counsel that could be given to nine-tenths of the postulants of our time. Their wish is to "go on the stage" — a different thincr from becomino- an actor. The manager had nothing before him to show that there were here present the necessary gifts of perseverance, study, and intelligence. Struck, however, by his earnest- ness, he proposed to give him an engagement of a very trifiing kind, which the young man, after deliberation, declined, on the ground that it would not afford him opportunities of thoroughly learning his profession. The good-natured Hoskins, who was himself leaving the theatre to go to Australia, gave him a letter to a manager, with these words : •* You will go on the stage ; when you want an engagement present that letter, and you will obtain one." He, indeed, tried to induce him to join him on his tours, but the offer was declined. His mother, however, could not reconcile herself 8 SIR HENRY IRVING to his taking so serious a step as " going on the stage." " I used frequently," writes his companion at the elocution class, " to visit at her house to rehearse the scenes in which John and I were to act together. I remember her as beingr rather tall, somewhat stately, and very gentle. On one occasion she begged me very earnestly to dissuade him from thinking of the stage as a profession ; and havinor read much of the vicissitudes of actors' lives, their hardships, and the precariousness of their work, I did my best to impress this view upon him." But it is ever idle thus striving- to hinder a youth's purpose when it has been deliberately adopted. Having come to this resolution, he applied earnestly to the task of preparing himself seriously for his profession. He learned a vast number of characters ; studied, and practised; even took lessons in fencing, attending twice a week at a school-of- arms in Chancery Lane. This accomplishment, often thought trifling, was once an important branch of an actor's education ; it supplies an eleganceof movement and bearing. " The die being now cast," according to the accepted expression, John Brodribb, now become Henry Irving, bade adieu to his desk, and bethink- ing him of the Hoskins letter, applied to Mr. Davis, a country manager, who had just com- pleted the building of a new theatre at Sunderland. With a slender stock of money he set off for that town. By an odd coincidence the name of the new house was the Lyceum. The play appointed was FIRST APPEARANCE 9 * Richelieu,' and the opening night was fixed for September 29, 1856. The young actor was cast for the part of the Duke of Orleans, and had to speak the opening words of the piece. Mr. Alfred Davis, a well-known provincial actor, and son of a northern manager, used often to recall the circumstances attending Irving's "first appear- ance on any stage." "The new theatre," he says, "was opened in September, 1856, and on the 29th of that month we started. For months previously a small army of scenic artists had been at work. Among the names of the corps dramatique were those of our old friend, Sam Johnson (now of the Lyceum) ; Miss Ely Loveday (sister of H. J. Loveday, the much respected stage-manager of the Lyceum) ; and a youthful novice, just eighteen, called Henry Irving. Making his first appearance, he spoke the first word in the first piece (played for the first time in the town, I believe), on the first or opening night of the new theatre.^ The words of the speech itself, * Heres to our enterprise ! ' had in them almost a prophetic tone of aspiration and * Monday Evening, Sept. 29, 1856. The Season will commence, with Sir E. L. Bulwer Lytton's beautiful play, RICHELIEU. Louis the Thirteenth ... ... Mr. Courtenay. Gaston (Duke of Orleans) ... ... Mr. Irving. &c. After ' Richelieu ' came : The highly successful New Piece of Oriental Sentimentality or Sentimental Orientality, extracted from Dreams of the Arabian Nights, by the indefatigable Visionary Hoo-Zure- Attar, and which to be appreciated must be seen, as the 10 SIR HENRY IRVING success. So busy was I in front and behind the scenes, that I was barely able to reach my place on the stage in time for the rising of the curtain. I kept my back to the audience till my cue to speak was given, all the while buttoning up, tying, and finishing my dressing generally, so that scant attention would be given to others. But even under these circumstances I was compelled to notice, and with perfect appreciation, the great and most minute care which had been bestowed by our aspirant on the completion of his costume. In those days managers provided the mere dress. Accessories, or ' properties ' as they were called, were found by every actor. Henry Irving was, from his splendid white hat and feathers to the tips of his shoes, a perfect picture ; and, no doubt, had borrowed his authority from some historical picture of the Louis XIII. period." " The impersonation," as the neophyte related it long afterwards, " was not a success. I was nervous, and suffered from stage fright. My second appear- ance as Cleomenes in ' A Winter's Tale,' was even more disheartening, as in Act V. I entirely forgot my lines, and abruptly quitted the scene, putting out all the other actors. My manager, however, put down my failure to right causes, and instead of most extravagantly laudatory ecomiums {sic) must fall im- measurably short of the gigantic merit of THE ENCHANTED LAKE! Or the Fisherman and the Genie. Near the end of the cast occurs the following line : Cooks ... Messrs. Brunt, Irving, Waite, Broderick, Owen., &c. FIRST APPEARANCE 11 dispensing- with my services, gave me some strong and practical advice." All which is dramatic enough, and gives us a glimpse of the good old provincial stage life. That touch of encouragement instead of dismissal, is significant of the fair, honest system, which then obtained in this useful training school. Of this stage fright he did not quite shake him- self clear for a long time. Once acting in ' A Winter's Tale,' he entered boldly enough, but all the words passed from his memory. In despera- tion he called out, "Come to the market-place and I well tell you further," and so exit. CHAPTER II 1857-1859 EDINBURGH AND THE SCOTTISH THEATRES AT the Sunderland Theatre he remained only four months, and though the manager pressed him to stay with him, the young actor felt that here he had not the opportunities he desired. He accord- ingly accepted an engagement at the Edinburgh Theatre, which began on February 9, 1857. Among the faces that used to be familiar at any " first night " at the Lyceum were those of Robert Wyndham and his wife. There is something romantic in the thought that these guests of the London manao^er and actor in the heio-ht of his o o success and prosperity should have been the early patrons of the unfriended struggling player. Wynd- ham was one of the successors of that sagacious Murray to whom the Edinburgh stage owes so much that is respectable. Here our actor remained for two years and a half, enjoying the benefits of that admirable, useful discipline, by which alone a knowledge of acting is to be acquired — viz., a varied 12 EDINBURGH AND SCOTTISH THEATRES 13 practice in a vast round of characters. This experi- ence, though acquired in a hurried and perfunctory fashion, is of enormous value in the way of training. The player is thus introduced to every shade and form of character, and can practise himself in all the methods of expression. Now that " stock com- panies " are abolished, and have given place to the "travelling ones," the actor has few opportunities of learning his business, and the result is a " thinness " or meagreness of interpretation. In this Edinburgh school our actor performed "a round," as it is called, of no fewer than three hundred and fifty characters ! This seems amazing. It is, in truth, an extra- ordinary list, ranging over every sort of minor character. He here also enjoyed opportunities of performing with famous "stars" who came round the provinces, Miss Helen Faucit, Mrs. Stirling, Vandenhoff, Charles Dillon, Madame Celeste, " Ben " Webster, Robson, the facetious Wright, the buoyant Charles Mathews, his life-long friend Toole, of " incompres- sible humour," and the American, Miss Cushman.^ This, it is clear, was a period of useful drudgery, but in it he found his account. The company ' Long after, in his prosperity, he recalled to American listeners an excellent piece of advice given him by this actress. He was speaking of the invaluable practice of revealing thoughts in the face before giving them utterance, where, he said, it "will be found that the most natural, the most seemingly accidental, effects are obtained when the working of the mind is seen before the tongue gives its words. This lesson was enjoined on me when I was a very young man by that remarkable actress, Charlotte Cushman." 14 SIR HENRY IRVING visited various Scotch towns, which the actor has described pleasantly enough in what might seem an extract from one of the old theatrical memoirs. He had always a vein of quiet humour, the more agree- able because it was unpretending and without effort. It would be difficult to give an idea of the prodigious labour which this earnest, resolute young man underwent while struggling to " learn his profession." The iron discipline of the theatre favoured his efforts, and its calls on the exertions of the actor seem, nowadays, truly extraordinary, though in another laborious profession, the office of "deviling" for a counsel in full practice, which entails painful gratuitous drudgery, is welcomed as a privilege by any young man who wishes to rise. A few of these Edinburgh bills are now before me, and present nights of singu- larly hard work for so young a man. We may wonder, too, at the audience which could have stomach for so lengthy a programme. Thus, one night, January 7, 1858, when the pantomime was running, the performances began with the panto- mime of * Little Bo-Peep,' in which we find our hero as Scruncher, " the Captain of the Wolves." After the pantomime came ' The Middy Ashore,' in which he was Tonnish, "an exquisite," con- cluding with ' The Wandering Boys,' in which we again meet him as Gregoire, "confidential servant to the Countess Croissey." We find him nearly always in three pieces of a night, and he seems, in pieces of a light sort, to have been " cast " for the gentlemanly captain of the " walking " sort ; in more NEW R07AL LTCEUIH THEATRE Llccnaed Partaunt to Aec of Parll ant ewt. Proprietor & Manager, — IMCaK. EQ. 99. XIi.ilL Tbe IIr«c