_George Alexander and the Barmaids_
Alec had been wonderful as Valentine the night before, and as Faust he
more than justified Henry's belief in him. After that he never looked
back. He had come to the Lyceum for the first time in 1882, an unknown
quantity from a stock company in Glasgow, to play Caleb Decie in "The
Two Roses." He then left us for a time, returned for "Faust," and
remained in the Lyceum Company for some years, playing all Terriss'
parts.
Alexander had the romantic quality which was lacking in Terriss, but
there was a kind of shy modesty about him which handicapped him when
he played Squire Thornhill in "Olivia." "Be more dashing, Alec!" I
used to say to him. "Well, I do my best," he said. "At the hotels I
chuck all the barmaids under the chin, and pretend I'm a dog of a
fellow, for the sake of this part!" Conscientious, dear, delightful
Alec! No one ever deserved success more than he did, and used it
better when it came, as the history of St. James' Theatre under his
management proves. He had the good luck to marry a wife who was clever
as well as charming, and could help him.
The original cast of "Faust" was never improved upon. What Martha was
ever so good as Mrs. Stirling? The dear old lady's sight had failed
since "Romeo and Juliet," but she was very clever at concealing it.
When she let Mephistopheles in at the door, she used to drop her work
on the floor, so that she could find her way back to her chair. I
never knew why she dropped it--she used to do it so naturally, with a
start, when Mephistopheles knocked at the door--until one night when
it was in my way and I picked it up, to the confusion of poor Mrs.
Stirling, who nearly walked into the orchestra.
_"Faust" a Paradoxical Success_
"Faust" was abused a good deal--as a pantomime, a distorted caricature
of Goethe, and a thoroughly inartistic production. But it proved the
greatest of all Henry's financial successes. The Germans who came to
see it, oddly enough, did not scorn it nearly as much as the English
who were sensitive on behalf of the Germans, and the Goethe Society
wrote a tribute to Henry Irving after his death, acknowledging his
services to Goethe!
It is a curious paradox in the theatre that the play for which every
one has a good word is often the play which no one is going to see,
while the play which is apparently disliked and run down has crowded
houses every night.
Our preparations for the production of "Faust" included a delightful
"grand tour" of Germany. Henry, with his accustomed royal way of doing
things, took a party which included my daughter Edy, Mr. and Mrs.
Comyns Carr, and Mr. Hawes Craven, who was to paint the scenery. We
bought nearly all the properties used in "Faust" in Nuremberg, and
many other things which we did not use, that took Henry's fancy. One
beautifully carved escutcheon, the finest armorial device I ever saw,
he bought at this time, and presented it in after years to the famous
American connoisseur, Mrs. Jack Gardner. It hangs now in one of the
rooms of her palace at Boston.
It was when we were going in the train along one of the most beautiful
stretches of the Rhine that Sally Holland, who accompanied us as my
maid, said: "Uncommon pretty scenery, dear, I must say!"