THE BRISTOL STOCK COMPANY
The engagement at the Royalty was only a stopgap, and at its termination
the wise Mr. Ben Terry took his daughter "to school," in one of the
famous stock companies that then most happily existed in all the large
provincial towns. They were indeed "schools"--schools of a very
practical order--and in them most of the leading actors of our
generation graduated.
Now that they have vanished, the great question among the would-be
actors and actresses of to-day (or I should say among those who are in
earnest) is "where can we find a true dramatic school?" Alas! too many
of them abjure school, and, with the awkwardness (though very little of
the timidity) of half-fledged birds, flutter blindly on to the stage,
and blunder under the unwonted glare of footlights, to the bewilderment
of the theatrical _habitués_ and the despair of critics, but apparently
to the great satisfaction of themselves and their foolishly admiring
friends.
I am inclined to think that theatre-lovers who never lived in a large
town in the good old stock company days missed one of the joys of life.
The actors and actresses in those companies (I speak from personal
experience) were our pride and our delight. Their names were familiar in
our mouths and homes as household words. Eagerly we scanned the
ever-changing play-bills to see what this or that favourite would do
next; anxiously we turned to the newspaper to see if the privileged
critic did full justice to them. They were, both on and off the stage,
our local heroes, heroines, soul-inspirers, and mirth-provokers. They
were familiar figures in our streets, and we loved to meet them. When,
according to the custom of those days, the "stars" from London came down
to be supported by the stock company, we were so loyal to the friends
who delighted us all the year round that we pretended to think little or
nothing of the stars. When, in due course, some of them moved on to
London, we watched their careers with the deepest interest. In short,
between the players and their patrons there existed a personal
affection. If they did not know each other "off the stage," the magnetic
touch was there, and it meant everything to those on both sides of the
curtain. The result was painstaking and sound (if not always great)
acting, and well-judged applause from fond and encouraging audiences.
Under such conditions, actors who already had their hearts in their
vocation, did not care how hard they worked, and constant experience,
coupled with true endeavour, perfected them in their art.
But it _was_ hard work! Edward Compton has told me that at the shortest
notice he was called upon to study and play within one week important
parts in "The Octoroon," "The Old Toll House," "Thirty Years of a
Gambler's Life," and "Raby Rattler," and I believe Sir Henry Irving
could record even harder experiences.
But the firing of the clay brought out the colours on the porcelain, and
the colours lasted. At the time when Ellen Terry was taken to one of
these important schools, there was no better stock company in England
than that brought together by Mr. J. H. Chute, the enterprising and
far-seeing manager of the Theatre Royal, Bristol. Mr. Chute seemed to
have a knack of gathering about him most of the promising young artists
of the day, and certainly those who learnt their lessons under the roof
of his academy did justice to his name.
It is tantalising to think of a West of England stock company (Mr. Chute
at that time was responsible for the Bath as well as the Bristol
theatre) that, within a very short period, could boast of such a
constellation of names as Madge Robertson (Mrs. Kendal), Marie Wilton
(Lady Bancroft), Henrietta Hodson (Mrs. Labouchere), Kate Bishop, Kate
and Ellen Terry, George Melville, Arthur Stirling, George and William
Rignold, W. H. Vernon, David James, Charles Coghlan, Arthur Wood, John
Rouse, and J. F. Cathcart.
No wonder that in such a school, and with such schoolmates, Ellen Terry
learnt very useful lessons. There was an abundance of work. One-act
farces and genuine burlesques were then in vogue, and these, with
tragedy or comedy, formed the day's rehearsal and the evening's bill.
Every one took part in them, and both for brains and body it was sharp
and onerous work. But they were enthusiasts; they were aware of their
local popularity; they were ready to tackle anything that came in their
way, and so their names were made.
For example, Ellen Terry was cast for a part in a burlesque. She told
the stage manager that she could neither sing nor dance. The reply was
laconic and decisive: "_You've got to do it!_" "And I did, in a way,"
she says; "but it was the best thing that could happen to me, for it
took the self-consciousness out of me--and, after a while, I thought it
was capital fun, for the Bath and Bristol people were very kind."
But it was not all burlesque. Relief to clever William Brough's
"Endymion"--"Perseus and Andromeda; or the Maid and the Monster," and so
forth, was found in serious drama, and sometimes in Shakespeare. Kate
Terry had preceded her younger sister to Bristol, and speedily
established herself as a favourite. Her Portia and Beatrice were already
popular performances, and renewed zest was added to them when "Pretty
Miss Ellen" was at hand to play Nerissa and Hero.
During this useful engagement Ellen Terry formed an intense admiration
for some of her co-mates. She fell in love with the beautiful singing
voice of Madge Robertson (it was an open question then whether our Mrs.
Kendal of to-day would devote herself to opera or drama), and she is
especially warm in her praises of the finished acting of Charles
Coghlan. How some of these budding artists crossed each other's paths in
later and famous days we shall see in the course of these pages.
From an old friend, who in the days of his youth aspired to be an actor,
but, after a short trial, quitted the stage to make his name as
journalist and author, I have received the following interesting
notes:--
"You ask me, my dear Pemberton," he writes, "to give you my
recollections of Ellen Terry in those now, alas! far-off days of my
youth, when I was for a brief time connected in a very humble capacity
with the Theatre Royal, Bristol. It was in the early sixties (1862, I
think) that Ellen and her elder sister, Kate (now Mrs. Arthur Lewis),
were engaged by the late James Henry Chute as members of his stock
company, Kate playing the juvenile lead and the principal ladies in the
classical burlesques, which were then the vogue and quite as attractive
as the legitimate drama. The company also included Miss Henrietta Hodson
(now Mrs. Labouchere), soubrette and principal boy, the late Charles
Coghlan, light comedian, William and George Rignold, John Rouse, Mr. and
Mrs. Robertson, and their daughter Madge, the latter only in her early
'teens, and Arthur Wood, 'first low comedian.'
"Ellen Terry was then a girl of about fourteen, of tall figure, with a
round, dimpled, laughing, mischievous face, a pair of merry, saucy grey
eyes, and an aureole of golden hair, which she wore, in the words of a
modern ditty, 'hanging down her back.' Although dwarfed, in a measure,
as an actress, by the more experienced skill and the superior _rôles_ of
her fascinating sister, Ellen soon became a great favourite in Bristol.
Her popularity was largely due to her performances in two of the Brough
brothers' burlesques--'Endymion' and 'Perseus and Andromeda.' In the
former Miss Hodson played Endymion, Kate Terry was Diana, and Ellen,
Cupid, and a very arch, piquant sprite, full of movement and laughter,
Miss Ellen was.
"She wore a loose short-skirted sort of tunic with a pair of miniature
wings, and of course carried the conventional bow and quiver. Some of
the more prudish of the Bristol theatre-goers--the same people who had
been wont to roar over the vulgar comicalities of Johnny Rouse--were
half inclined to be shocked at a scantiness of attire that even Mr.
Chute himself was disposed to think (_i.e._ for the modest early
sixties: to-day a Cupid _with a_ '_skirted_ tunic' would be considered
sadly over-dressed) a 'little daring.'
"But Ellen Terry's charm, her delightful grace and innate refinement,
quite disarmed the prudes, and Cupid triumphed in front of the curtain
as well as behind it, and lightly shot his darts in all directions. Miss
Hodson was at that time a deservedly great favourite, but the Terry
sisters unconsciously became the founders of a new cult among local
playgoers, and set up an empire of their own; in fact, I am hardly
exaggerating if I say that there were among the gilded youth of Bristol
two rival factions--the Hodson faction and the Terry faction, whose
friendly antagonism was as keen, if not as fatal, as that of the
Montagues and the Capulets.
"If my memory serves me right, Ellen was the Dictys of the other
burlesque, Miss Hodson and Miss Kate Terry playing the two _rôles_ of
the title. In one of these pieces Arthur Wood had to speak a line in
which occurs the phrase, "such a mystery here." He made much nightly
capital--for these burlesques had long runs considering they were played
by a stock company in a provincial theatre--by emphasising the syllables
of 'mystery,' so as to make the sentence sound 'such a Miss Terry here.'
"I was only a general utility actor in that company, and I had to play
one of the crowd in 'Perseus and Andromeda,' whose duty it was to be
suddenly turned to stone, after the fashion of Lot's wife--only with a
more studied artistic pose--at the sight of Medusa's head. In order to
give _vraisemblance_ to the illusion, we of the populace were costumed
in a parti-coloured fashion, one half white, the other half of some
strong colour, and our faces were made up on one side only with a sort
of whitewash. When, at the given signal, we turned round our white sides
with the precision of soldiers at drill to the full stream of the
limelight, striking simultaneously more or less statuesque attitudes,
the situation was, for those days, effective, and nightly brought down
the house and evoked a call for the manager. I recollect that before the
production, in order to ascertain the effect of the whitewash, one or
two of us, true to our profession of 'general utility,' had to put it on
at a midnight rehearsal, after we had resumed our ordinary dress. Many
years have elapsed since the incident, yet I can still hear the peals of
musical laughter with which Ellen Terry greeted our intensely comical
appearance, and I can still see the mischief and good-natured ridicule
sparkling in her merry eyes.
"If I had to describe her acting in those days, I should say its chief
characteristic was a vivacious sauciness. Her voice already had some of
the rich sympathetic quality which has since been one of her most
distinctive charms. Although only in the first flush of a joyous
girlhood, she was yet familiar enough with the stage to be absolutely at
home on it, and in such complete touch with her audiences that she could
afford to discard the serious spirit altogether, even when the situation
demanded a less frivolous mood. That she made these little subordinate
parts in the burlesques not only dominate the stage at the time, but
also caused them to live in the memory all these years, is evidence
enough of the compelling force and infection of her irrepressible
mirthfulness. At rehearsals, even more than when acting, she was brimful
of merriment, taking nothing gravely;--a gay, mercurial child, flitting
about hither and thither with ever the same exuberant _insouciance_, the
same defiant spirit of laughter, as if life and all its possibilities of
tangle and tragedy had only a holiday meeting for her. As I look back on
those bright and too brief 'salad' days, it seems to me that Ellen Terry
might have been regarded as the epitome of that 'golden age' in which
people 'fleeted the time carelessly.'
"Mrs. Terry always accompanied her daughters to and from the theatre
every night, and watched them from the wings during the whole time they
were on the stage. They lodged during the season in Queen Square, then
the recognised quarter for theatrical folks. The theatre itself was
situated in King Street; I believe it still exists, but its glory, like
that of Ichabod, has long since departed. A theatre in Park Row has
superseded the famous old house where so many great actors and actresses
were trained; and the whole neighbourhood round that building, once
throbbing with artistic interest, has become sordid and neglected, and
redolent of ship chandlery. But in the old times, outside the little
narrow stage-door, crowds of dazzled Lotharios and stage-struck
worshippers used to throng to see the 'Terrys' go home after the
performance. Mrs. Terry played her part of duenna with uncommon
vigilance, and it was little more than a snap-shot vision of three
hurrying and well-wrapped up figures that rewarded the admirers for
their patience.
"I recollect one poor lad who was an assistant in a large drapery
establishment in Wine Street, Bristol. He was infatuated with the
beautiful Kate Terry, though he had never spoken to her, and probably he
never even saw her off the stage. But he left bouquets and other gifts
addressed to her at the stage-door, and as there was nothing to indicate
who the donor was, or where he lived, she could not send them back.
Sometime after this young fellow was arrested for embezzlement. He had
taken his employer's money, partly in order to gratify a passion for the
theatre, and partly to enable him to buy presents for the divinity whom
he worshipped from afar. It was a painful little drama of real life; and
I know that no one was more distressed than Miss Terry herself when she
read the account of the magisterial proceedings in the paper.
"I could tell you a lot about the 'Old Duke' tavern, the famous
theatrical rendezvous of those days; but the 'Terrys,' of course, did
not come on in that convivial scene. I am reminded, however, that one
of its regular _habitués_ was Charley Adams, the theatre prompter, about
whom many diverting stories might be told. Whenever there was a stage
wait or anything went wrong, Charley lost his head entirely, and rushed
about with 'language' on his lips and tears streaming down his cheeks.
On one occasion the stage was kept waiting for George Rignold, the
audience began to be impatient, and Charley was distracted. Ellen Terry
happened to be standing in the prompt wing, and, rendered desperate by
the growing delay, Charley, with forcible if florid eloquence, expressed
in the true Bristol vernacular, pushed her on to the stage. 'Go on! go
on!' he screamed, making the objective of his imperative mood fairly
totter with adjectives. Miss Terry was, however, by no means
embarrassed. She quietly took in the situation: her always welcome
presence elicited a hearty cheer, and by the time she had crossed the
stage and disappeared on the O.P. side, the missing actor had turned up
and proceeded to 'smooth out the creases.'
"Poor old Charley was often a butt for Ellen Terry's pleasant banter. He
was a rather illiterate man, and made mistakes of speech which were an
irresistible theme of ridicule with this mirthful maiden. How she
laughed when he spoke of the 'Jorgon's' head, and called the statues
'statties,' and performed other amazing feats of verbal metamorphosis.
"Charley was always at his best in the 'Old Duke' smoking-room with his
long clay pipe, after his sixth 'small jug' of eleemosynary beer. Then
he was confidential, impressive, sententious, and 'dear boy'd' every one
with a friendship which was none the less sincere because its fount was
somewhat alcoholic. It is many a year since the earth closed over thee,
thou poor, excitable, and sometimes self-indulgent disciple of Thespis,
but none who knew thee can ever have any but kindly memories of thy
simple undisguised obsequiousness to the 'star,' and thy majestically
patronising mien to the super.
"I have used the name Ellen Terry throughout the above notes, but at
that time she was always and to every one, 'Nelly.' She was announced as
'Miss Nelly Terry' in the play-bills, and I have an old friendly letter
from her, written only a few months after she left Bristol, in which she
signs herself 'Nelly.' The handwriting is angular and 'school-missish,'
with no indication of the soundness and flexible strength which have
since become its characteristics.
"Perhaps I have laid too much stress on the two burlesque parts which
have the deepest roots in my memory. 'Miss Nelly' played other parts;
she was the 'walking lady' of the company, and I have (rather hazy)
recollections of her in a crinolined dress in that fine old melodrama
'The Angel of Midnight; or, The Duel in the Snow'; as a fashionable dame
in the glittering but immoral coterie which forms the personal
background in 'The Marble Heart'; and as the _ingenue_ in a once popular
comedietta entitled 'The Little Treasure.'
"To say that she then showed unmistakable promise of the pre-eminent
position to which she has since attained in English dramatic art would
be to exhibit that 'after-the-event' wisdom which is so common a feature
of modern prophecy. I will only say that we, the young fellows of that
day, thought she was perfection; we toasted her in our necessarily
frugal measures; we would gladly have been her hewers of wood and
drawers of water. She had personal charm as well as histrionic skill.
Her smiles were very sweet, but, alack for all of us, they were
mathematically impartial."
These jottings are not only interesting as regards the early career of
Kate and Ellen Terry, but they prove my views as to the affection in
which the famous old stock companies were held by their devoted
provincial patrons. In these days of ephemeral touring troupes such a
condition of things is impossible, and really earnest students of the
drama starve for lack of nourishment.
On April 2, 1862, the old Bath Theatre of many glorious memories was
destroyed by fire; but James Henry Chute was not the man to be dismayed
by disaster. Within a year it was rebuilt, and on March 4, 1863, was
again ready for its faithful audiences.
As the opening programme is now historic, it is well to reproduce it
here:--
NEW THEATRE ROYAL, BATH.
FIRST NIGHT.
_Lessee and Manager_, JAMES HENRY CHUTE.
_Prices_--The following scale of prices has been adopted for the
opening night--Dress Circle, 5/-; Upper Circle, 3/-; Pit and
Amphitheatre (entrance in Beaufort Square), 2/-; Gallery (entrance
in St. John's Place), 1/-. No second price.
_Prices of Admission after the first night_ will be as
follows--Dress Circle, 4/-; second price, 2/6. Upper Boxes, 2/-;
second price, 1/6. Pit, 1/6; second price, 1/-. Amphitheatre
(entrance in St. John's Place), 1/-. Gallery, 6d. Private Boxes,
20/-, 25/-, 30/-.
_Box Office_--The Box Office, under the direction of Mr. Gifford,
for a few days will be at Mr H. N. King's Photographic
Establishment, 42 Milsom Street, the proprietor having kindly
placed his view-room at the service of the manager.
_Leader of the Band_ Mr T. H. Salmon
_Stage Manager_ Mr Marshall
_Scenic Artist_ Mr G. Gordon
DRAMATIC PROLOGUE--
_Written expressly for the occasion by_ G. F. Powell, Esq.
The Spirit of the Past by Miss Henrietta Hodson
The Spirit of the Future by Miss Ellen Terry (her first
appearance here)
The Spirit of the Hour (Lord Dundreary) by Mr W. Rignold
The Spirit of the Times (Sensation) by Mr A. Wood
The Spirit of Fashion by Miss Desborough (first
appearance here)
Fortune by Miss Elizabeth Burton
Comedy by Mr Charles Coghlan (his
first appearance)
Tragedy by Mr George Yates (his first
appearance)
Mr Chute (Lessee and Manager) by Himself.
"God save the Queen."
_Verse and Chorus by the Company._
To be followed by Shakespeare's
MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM
As arranged for representation by Mr Charles Kean, and performed
150 times at the Royal Princess's Theatre. With entirely new
Scenery, Costumes, Decorations, Appointments, Mechanical
Appliances, and Mendelssohn's music.
The Scenery by Mr W. Gordon, Mr George Gordon, Mr Geo. Philips, Mr
Horne & Assistants. The Machinery by Mr Harwell. The Costumes by
Miss Jarrett and Assistants. The Appointments by Mr Pritchard. The
Action and Dances by Miss Powell.
Music arranged by Mr J. L. Hatton & Mr Salmon.
Theseus (Prince of Athens) Mr George Rignold
Egeus (father to Hermia) Mr Robertson
Lysander (in love with Hermia) Mr William Rignold
Demetrius ( " " ) Mr Charles Coghlan
Philostrate (Master of Revels Mr Brunel
to Theseus)
Quince (the Carpenter) Mr Marshall (first appearance
these two years)
Snug (the Joiner) Mr Douglas Gray
Bottom (the Weaver) Mr A. Wood
Flute (the bellows-mender) Mr H. Andrews
Snout (the Tinker) Mr Marchant
Starveling (the Tailor) Mr Gibson
Hippolyta (Queen of the Amazons) Miss Louisa Thorne (first
(betrothed to Theseus) appearance in Bath)
Hermia (daughter to Egeus, in love Miss Elizabeth Burton
with Lysander)
Helena (in love with Demetrius) Miss Desborough
Oberon (King of the Fairies) Miss Henrietta Hodson
Titania (Queen of the Fairies) Miss Ellen Terry
Puck, or Robin Goodfellow (a Fairy) Master Edmund Marshall
First Singing Fairy Miss M. Cruse
Second Singing Fairy Miss Madge Robertson
Third Singing Fairy Miss F. Douglas
Fairies who join in a shadow dance Miss Powell & her pupils
Peablossom Miss Ellen Seymour
Moth Miss E. Frailly
Cobweb Master F. Marshall
Mustard-seed Miss I. Marshall
_Fairies_--
Demoiselles Margarets, Montague, Owen, Fanny Marshall, Bullock,
Vaughan, Clarke, A. Clarke, Gibson, Marchant, Holmes, Wootton, etc.
_Other Fairies attending their King and Queen_--
Misses Seymour, C. Wootten, Goodyer, Frailly, E. Frailly, C.
Marchant, F. Marchant, Watts, etc.
_Characters in Interlude performed by the Clowns_--
Pyramus, by Bottom; Wall, by Snout; Thisbe, by Flute; Moonshine,
by Starveling; Lion, by Snug.
_Attendants on_ Theseus & Hippolyta--Huntsman, Esquire, etc.
The new Act-Drop by Messrs Grieve and Telbin.
To conclude with the new and laughable Farce, by J. Wooler, Esq.,
called:
MARRIAGE AT ANY PRICE
Brownjohn Brown Mr Marshall
(Of the Laburnums)
Simon Gushington Mr William Rignold
Tubs Mr Gibson
Alick Mr Wilson
Peter Peppercorn }
Jemima Ann } Mr A. Wood
Charley Bitt }
Kate Gushington }
Bob, Tiger } Miss Henrietta Hodson
Jemima, a Housemaid }
Alice, Niece to Brown Miss Madge Robertson.
Matilda Peppercorn Miss Louisa Thorne
Speaking by the light of to-day, this was indeed a rich cast, and it is
interesting to note how Madge Robertson and Ellen Terry--destined to
become the two greatest actresses of their generation--thus played
together in their "'prentice days." No doubt the "singing fairy" of the
evening inspired Titania with her admiration for Mrs. Kendal's exquisite
voice.
Long after their stock company days, the Terry Sisters held their
well-merited and remarkable popularity in Bristol. That distinguished
actor, W. H. Vernon, who, as we have seen, graduated as one of Mr.
Chute's "young people," has told me how enthusiastically they were
received when, with London honours thick upon them, they came to "star"
in their old "school," in a piece called "A Sister's Penance," which had
been a great success at the Adelphi Theatre. Vernon, who was "Miss
Nelly's" lover on that occasion, was immensely struck by her merriment
and high spirits at the rehearsal in the morning and (in contrast) her
wonderful display of true emotion in the performance of the evening.
In connection with Ellen Terry's next appearance in London, it is
curious to note that in the famous Bath programme that preceded it,
William Rignold should figure as "Lord Dundreary"--the "Spirit of the
Hour"; and that she should be so aptly chosen for "The Spirit of the
Future."