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 crowded there all the week; secondly, for Irving to relate
an incident by the way; and, thirdly, to introduce the succeeding
chapter, which will describe our departure therefrom.
Irving was a little ruffled during his journey from Baltimore by the
sting of one of those vagrant gadflies of the press that are not
confined to the American continent; but, as a matter of course, exist
in that broader field in large numbers, and are of greater variety than
in the narrower limits of Great Britain.
“I promised to write a little gossip of my experiences in America for
the—— magazine, and I think the Baltimore incident is a very good
subject, told as an episode of the trip, with just a few lines about my
reception. What do you think?”
“Very good, indeed,” I said.
“Ah! I’m glad you like the notion, because I have written it. Here it
is; I’ll read it to you.”
“The Baltimore man will feel flattered when he learns how much you have
taken his ‘Tribune’ despatch to heart,” I said.
“I don’t care for that at all; nor would I, as you know, have thought
of answering him, only that he put his falsehood into so ingeniously
damaging a shape. But no matter,—this is what I have written.
“AN INCIDENT OF MY AMERICAN TOUR.
“The Sunday newspapers of America are the largest and certainly the
most amusing of the week. They were especially welcome to me during
the railway journey between Baltimore and Brooklyn. The landscape was
striking now and then; but we were travelling literally through a snow
world, and the monotony of it was a trifle tedious.
“I turned to the New York papers, a bundle of which had been brought
‘on board’ (this term is applied to railway trains as to ships in
America), and was not long in coming upon a surprise. It was in
the shape of a special telegraphic despatch from Baltimore to the
‘Tribune,’ of December 30. I read that ‘Henry Irving closed a very
successful week at the Academy of Music’; that his ‘audiences were
large’; that ‘his success was due to curiosity’; that ’”Hamlet”
raised a storm of criticism about his new-fangled ideas, and when
the ghost appeared on the stage in a green gown the audience roared
at the strange sight, to the evident embarrassment of the ghost’;
that ‘individually, however, Henry Irving’s stay in Baltimore was of
the pleasantest nature’; and that ‘Dr. W. Crim,[34] the well-known
surgeon, gave him a reception, where he proved himself an entertaining
conversationalist. He was favorably impressed with Americans, but said
they were not yet fully educated to appreciate true artistic ability;
they were progressing.’
“As I had never remembered the closet scene in ‘Hamlet’ to have been
more impressive, and particularly as regarded the appearance of the
ghost; as the question of curiosity, _per se_, had never been raised by
the local press; as on our first two nights we had bad houses, and on
our last two the theatre was crowded; as the remark attributed to me at
Dr. Crim’s was a false report, calculated to injure me in the eyes of
the American people,—this newspaper despatch, I confess, annoyed me.
“I consulted my friends on the train as to the advisability of
contradicting the latter part of it.
“The general verdict was against me. Said an American journalistic
friend, ‘If you get into a controversy of that kind, it will be
never-ending.’
“‘But it is not a question for controversy; it is a question of fact.
If this man’s statement is allowed to go forth, I simply stand before
the American people as a downright prig.’
“‘If you take the trouble to contradict every misrepresentation of what
you say and do you will have no other occupation.’
“‘So far this is the only thing I have cared to contradict; for I
think the press, as a rule, has been generous to me, and to all of
us. As for the point about the “ghost,” that does not matter; it is a
lie, and, even if it be malicious, it will be corrected wherever we
play “Hamlet.” It is true, our friend of the “Standard” may publish
it; but truth will prevail even against his curiously persistent
misrepresentations.’
“‘Oh, but,’ said my adviser, and he was backed by others, ‘the London
“Standard” will not repeat such obvious nonsense, and the American
people will not believe a mere Baltimore correspondent. Take no notice
of it.’
“Thus the matter rested until the close of the journey. I hope I endure
criticism with becoming fortitude, but a wilful and malicious falsehood
reflecting upon my personal conduct frets me. I therefore resolved
to send the following letter to the editor of the ‘Tribune’ (who had
devoted much valuable space to my work, and whose personal courtesy I
shall always remember):—
“‘SIR,—I value so highly the good opinion of the American people
that it is painful to me to see any estimate of their education
and culture misrepresented. In your journal of to-day a Baltimore
despatch states that I have said: “The Americans are not yet fully
educated to appreciate true artistic ability; they are progressing.”
This statement is utterly untrue; and, while I take this opportunity
to contradict it, I feel sure that America by this time knows me
sufficiently well to believe that I am incapable of uttering such
conceited nonsense, or of the bad taste and ingratitude which the
correspondent desires to fix upon me.
“‘Faithfully yours,
“‘HENRY IRVING.’
Sometimes instinct is one’s best guide in dealing with mere personal
matters. The invidious character of the newspaper report in this case
is apparent, and my letter was, in many directions, referred to as
a well-advised and necessary rejoinder to a calumny. The ‘Tribune’
mentioned it in the following terms, a day or two afterwards:—
“‘Mr. Irving’s recent card in the “Tribune,” concerning the absurd
charge that he had disparaged American audiences, was graceful and
manly. An imputation of invidious remarks to those persons who are
prosperous in the public esteem is one of the commonest methods of
malicious detraction. It has been used, of course, against Mr. Irving,
who is altogether too fortunate a man for envy and malice to endure.
An old remark, made by the poet Samuel Rogers, applies to this case:
“To succeed is no little crime in the eyes of those who fail; and
those who cannot climb will endeavor to pull you down by the skirts.“‘
“The ‘absurd charge’ was not too absurd, I learned later, for it
appeared in the cable correspondence of the ‘Standard.’ You ask me for
a few notes on my work in this great country. I hope you may consider
this personal matter of sufficient interest. From the first I have
been received with unbounded kindness; from the first I have played to
large and enthusiastic audiences. My most sanguine hopes never reached
so high as the success I have realized. Here and there, prompted,
possibly, by the preliminary appeal of the ‘Standard’ to the American
people ‘not to nail my ears to the pump’ (as the ‘Herald’ put it in
commenting upon the article), and, encouraged by a parchment pamphlet
circulated here, some few pressmen, of the Baltimore stamp, have had
their malicious fling at me; but I have reason to be deeply grateful to
the American critics and to the American people for judging me and my
work in a spirit of honesty and fair play. The study of a lifetime, and
the conscientious working out of my own convictions in regard to the
representation of stage stories in a natural manner, have been stamped
with the approval of the American people; and I shall return to my
native land very proud of their artistic endorsement and their personal
friendship.
“HENRY IRVING.
“There! What do you think of it?”
“It is excellent,” I said, “and most interesting; but I would rather
see it in ‘Henry Irving’s Impressions of America’ than in the”——
And here it is accordingly, an intercepted contribution to an English
magazine.
“I thought,” he said, “the editor would publish it as a ‘P.S.,’ after
the manner of other contributions about the stage.”
“No doubt,” I replied; “but I think we will sandwich it between our
chapters on Baltimore and the trip to Chicago.”