TWO weeks were spent between St. Louis, Cincinnati, Indianapolis, and
Columbus. The New York _repertoire_ was played with excellent results
in every way.
“Indianapolis and Columbus,” said Irving, “are evidently behind St.
Louis and Cincinnati in their appreciation of the arts; though I have
no reason to complain, nor has Miss Terry. They came to the theatre
in large numbers, were most excellent audiences, cordial in their
reception of us, and flattering in their applause; but in walking
through their streets one could not help seeing that there was a
good deal too much of the ‘Dime-Museum’ business in these places for
art generally to flourish liberally at present. ‘The Fat Lady,’ ‘The
Two-headed Pig,’ ‘The Tattooed Man,’ and ‘The Wild Men of the Woods,’
appear to have a great hold on Indianapolis and Columbus. Indeed,
they make a fight for it against the theatres, even in St. Louis and
Cincinnati. You remember the great wide street, in Birmingham, called
the Bull ring? Well, the show-streets of these cities remind me of a
concentrated Bull ring in Birmingham, where ‘Living Wonders,’ ‘The
Wizard of the North,’ and ‘The Fortune-Telling Pony,’ are always, more
or less, challenging public attention. I believe Ball, the leader
of our orchestra, had some special trouble at Indianapolis. The
violoncello, for example, had only two strings. Ball, on the second
night, chaffingly said, ‘I suppose you will consider two strings
sufficient for to-night?’—‘No,’ was the reply; ‘I stick to three, on
principle.’”
“Did you hear about the manager who gave the extra musicians in his
orchestra something less than usual,” I asked, “because, as he said,
they would see you for nothing, and that should be considered when
every seat was taken? At night they complained; they said, ‘You have
swindled us; we have not seen Irving act at all; we have only seen him
at rehearsal. We have been playing under the stage, at the back of it,
behind flats, or smothered up at the wings, where we could see nothing,
and you have got to give us our full pay.’”
It is quite new in American theatres for the orchestra to be put into
such frequent requisition behind the scenes, as is the case in Irving’s
representations. The special engagement of a tenor (Mr. J. Robertson)
to sing the ballad in “Much Ado” is an unheard-of extravagance. Mr.
Robertson also gave very valuable assistance in the quartettes and
choruses introduced with fine effect in “The Merchant,” “The Bells,”
and other plays; which reminds me that among the saddening incidents
of the tour were the sudden recall to England of Mr. Johnson, the low
comedian, to the sick-bed of his wife; and the withdrawal of Mr. Norman
Forbes from the cast of “The Merchant,” through illness. We left Forbes
at one of the cities, with a serious attack of rheumatic fever. The
“under-studies” had to be employed, necessitating many new rehearsals.
Mr. Howe, at a moment’s notice, undertook the part of Dogberry, and
played it admirably; while Mr. Carter took the part of Richard in
“Louis XI.,” and Mr. Harbury gave extra and efficient service in the
graveyard scene in “Hamlet.” Mr. Andrews was cast for the part of
Lancelot in “The Merchant,” replacing Mr. Johnson, and Mr. Lyndal
played Claudio in “Much Ado” in such a way as to entitle him to the
compliments of Irving, which were generously and ungrudgingly given.
“Cincinnati,” said Irving, “has great aims in the direction of art. It
has a grand public hall, endowed by a local philanthropist, in which it
gives musical, operatic, and dramatic festivals. This year the opera
occupies its enormous stage. The Festival Committee gave me a dinner
at the Queen City Club. It was a most interesting reunion.[44] The
city is very picturesque, I should say, if one could only have seen
it; but it was choked with snow, and in a continual mist or fog. The
ice in the river broke up before we left,—a wonderful sight it was:
a great rising flood, filled with ice and snow,—along the wharves
silent ships, and steamers,—surprising to look down upon from the
hills. As the city has grown the people have had to build on the
heights, and the street-cars are hauled up on elevators—you drive your
carriage upon these platforms and are raised to the roads above,—it
is something like going up in a balloon. A mist hung over the river,
the water was rising rapidly, and people were expressing fears that the
place would be flooded, as it had been a year or two previously.[45]
There is a German quarter. It is called ‘Germany,’ and has all the
characteristics of the Fatherland in its beer-gardens, concert-rooms,
theatres, and general mode of life. Next to the native Americans the
Germans are the most influential people. They have several newspapers
printed in their own language, and in the regular German type.[46]
The sudden rises of the Ohio appear to be the chief drawback. They
are very philosophical about it, and try to console themselves on the
ground that, if they suffer from water, they have not been burned out,
as some other cities have. Cincinnati has a noble ambition: it aims
at becoming a great centre of culture, more particularly in art and
science. It is making a magnificent start in its Schools of Design,
its art leagues, its University, and the Museum which is being built
in Eden Park. I was struck with an incident related to me by a friend
of yours. One of the newspaper offices was burned down. The fire took
place while the paper was at press. Seeing that it was impossible to
save the machinery they put on the highest speed and worked off the
sheets until the place was too hot to hold them; and the men stepped
out with the printed sheets almost as the ceiling fell in upon the
machinery. By the aid of a neighbor, and the presses of a rival who had
failed, they came out the next day with a full report of the calamity,
in which, I believe, some lives were lost. An example of American
enterprise that, eh?
“At Columbus I went to the State House,[47] while the General
Assembly and Senate were sitting. If one were a politician, I can
imagine nothing more interesting than to study the details of the
American system of government, the question of State rights, and
other features of the general administration. Each State seems very
distinct and independent of the other. For instance, some States
and cities have special laws of their own, and many complications
which seem inexplicable would be more easily explained if this were
more understood. It is not the government of the United States which
can control all matters; it is the State which sometimes plays the
principal part. I did not quite understand that until recently. For
instance, in New York city or State there is a law giving certain
privileges to ticket-speculators; while at Philadelphia, and at Boston,
I believe, there is a law against speculators selling tickets on the
sidewalks. Talking upon this subject to a lawyer in Baltimore, he told
me that baggage-smashing on the railroads had reached such a pitch
that a State law had been passed in Maryland making it a misdemeanor.
English, and indeed European, travellers generally, who have had no
experience of America, can have no conception of the way in which
baggage is treated; it seems to me as if the intention often is really
to stave in trunks and boxes. The credulous Britisher, who should put
on his trunk, ‘This side up, with care,’ would have a fit if he saw
the porter throw it down with a crash on the other side, and then
pile a ton or two of the heaviest kind of merchandise upon it. When
you think of the respect with which a traveller’s trunks are treated
on European railways, it is startling to encounter a general sort of
conspiracy here to break them up, and in a country which has invented
the best system of ‘expressing’ and delivering baggage known to modern
travel,—to me this is incomprehensible.
“From Columbus we went back to Chicago, the first of our return
visits. I felt quite at home again at the Grand Pacific Hotel,—one
of the finest and most comfortable houses of the entire tour. The
colored attendant, Walter, who is told off for my service, is the
most intelligent and courteous fellow I have ever met in the position
he holds. Singularly handsome, too, is he not? Indeed one is struck
with the physical beauty of some of these half-breeds, mulattoes,
Creoles—wonderful fellows! I remember that Sala describes the Grand
Pacific as ‘Wonder Number One’ among the marvels of Chicago, and
the newspaper press as ‘Wonder Number Two.’ I should put the press
first,—did you ever see such papers as the Sunday journals? Sixteen
to twenty and twenty-four pages,—why, it’s marvellous how they get
the matter for them together! One of the St. Louis papers I noticed
was also a very large one. What a deftness of allusion and adaptation
of events to personal criticism there is in these western journals!
The Standard oil affair,—I don’t know the merits of it; but charges
of unfairness in connection with the enterprise are before the public.
Somebody has sent me this paragraph about it, from the ‘Columbus
Times’:—
“The members of the General Assembly who looked upon the Standard oil,
when it flowed with unction in the recent senatorial struggle, might
get a few points on the effects of the remorse of conscience by seeing
Henry Irving in ‘The Bells.’
“Flattering, eh?”