V.
“Irving in Clover,” was the journalistic title of a report of “a notable breakfast given to the English tragedian,” which appeared in the “Philadelphia Press.” “A gathering of distinguished men listen to entertaining words by the famous actor; he is presented with the watch of Edwin Forrest.”
The “Clover Club” is one of the pleasantest of Philadelphian institutions. Its reception to Mr. Irving, and the Forrest incident, which makes the day historical in the annals of the stage, calls for a special record. As I was travelling at this time to another city, I propose to repeat the chronicle of the local journalist, and Mr. Irving’s own personal report of the interesting proceedings. Let me say, then, in the language of the “Press,” that on the morning of December 7 Mr. Irving broke his fast with the club that has a four-leaved Shamrock on which to spread its bounty, à votre santé for its toast cry, and for its motto the quatrain,—
“While we live,
We live in clover;
When we die,
We die all over.”
The banqueting-room of the Hotel Bellevue, the scene of so many memorable gatherings, and the shrine at which the quadrifoil devotees ever worship, had been turned into a fairy bower. The regular clover table had an addition in the shape of a crescent, spreading on either side from the stem of the club’s emblem and from its centre, and concealing a pillar supporting the floor above, arose what the florist’s art made to appear a gigantic plant. Its branches, bearing numerous camellias, reached to the ceiling. At its base, in a bed of emerald moss, grew ferns and lilies. Smilax (a beautiful American creeper), in graceful windings, covered the entire board, furnishing a radiant green setting for dazzling glass and shining silver, and handsome plaques of flowers and fruits. Directly in front of the president of the club, and the guest of the occasion, was a handsome floral structure, from which the modest clover grew around the name “Henry Irving,” composed of radiant blossoms. On the emblematic gridiron was placed the massive “loving-cup.” The walls of the room were covered with precious works of art, and over all was shed the mellow light of many wax candles, with their rays subdued by crimson shades. The sunlight, so suggestive of business activity and all that rebukes feasting and frivolity, was rigorously excluded from the scene of pleasure. An English and American flag entwined draped one end of the room.
Breakfast was served shortly, at noon, fifty-three gentlemen sitting around the clover-leaf. Around the table, beside Mr. Irving and twenty-three members of the club, were seated the following gentlemen: Ex-Attorney-General MacVeagh, Charles Wyndham, the English comedian; A. Loudon Snowden, Superintendent of the Mint; Charles Godfrey Leland (Hans Breitman); Calvin Wells, of Pittsburg; Captain J. W. Shackford, of the yacht Atlanta; Professor E. Coppee Mitchell, of the University; James D. Fish, president of the Marine National Bank, New York, and owner of the New York Casino; John B. Schoeffel, partner of Henry E. Abbey; Morton McMichael, Jr., cashier of the First National Bank; A. G. Hetherington, J. H. Copleston, James H. Alexander; Commodore James M. Ferguson, President of the Board of Port Wardens; E. A. Perry, of “The Boston Herald”; E. T. Steel, President of the Board of Education; Thomas Hovenden, J. W. Bailey, Marcus Mayer, Peter A. B. Widener, Dr. Alfred C. Lambdin; Henry Howe, the “first old man” of Mr. Irving’s company; W. E. Littleton, J. M. White; Hon. Robert P. Porter, of New York; Nathaniel Childs, the comedian; Charles A. Dougherty, J. Beaufoy Lane, and J. H. Palser.
After the “Baby”[24] member, Colonel John A. McCaull, had descended from the high-chair and been divested of his rattle, and the loving-cup had been passed around, and the game on the bill of fare had been reached, President M. P. Handy arose, and in a few fitting remarks introduced Mr. Irving, reminding him, in conclusion, that “this unconventionality is our conventionality,” and, further, that he was expected “to stir up the animals.”
After the warm applause that greeted him had subsided, Mr. Irving, in a conversational, unrestrained manner, spoke as follows:—
“Gentlemen, I can never forget, so long as I live, the hearty welcome you have given me, coupled with such unusual and hearty hospitality. When it was first known that I was coming to Philadelphia, your club extended to me a most kind invitation,—the first invitation I received after my arrival in America, and one that will ever be memorable to me. Your great hospitality, and the gridiron there before me, has reminded me of an old organization of which I am a member,—the Beefsteak Club. I hope I shall have the pleasure of welcoming some of the members of this club whenever they cross the water. Should any of them come to London I will endeavor to make some return for this unexpected welcome. I hope by that time we will have some of your unconventional conventionalities of which you have, in such an excellent manner, given me a specimen. I am told that speech-making is not part of the programme. Therefore I can do no better than follow the suggestion of my friend Dougherty, and give you an experience of my early life. I don’t wish to do aught against the rules,—for I am a great stickler for rules,—which I see you carry out; but I will tell you a little story concerning my early life, or it may possibly be the story of the early life of several of us.”
And then Mr. Irving branched off into a recitation descriptive of how “some vast amount of years ago” a precocious youth—one Tom by name, and but eleven years of age—had a prematurely amorous longing for a spinster of thirty-two, who finally married an elder, but hated, rival. At the conclusion of the recitation, which was received with great laughter, he continued his remarks, as follows:—
“I feel most fondly unto you, O Clovers! Many of you, I believe, are associated with the press. Between journalism and the stage there has always been a great sympathy, and I fancy it will continue so until all things cease to exist. I have often thought that the stage is a sort of father of journalism,—it is a sort of Utopian idea,—but from the days of the Greek drama to the time of Shakespeare there was much news discussed at the theatres, such as we now find in the newspapers. Our interests are mixed. We represent much of the newspaper treasury I know, in England, and I fancy it is the same in this country. We are therefore interested, to a very large amount, in the newspapers, and I have found my friend, Charles Wyndham, whom I am glad to meet at this board, interested to the extent of anxiety concerning some of his large advertisements.
“But this is not solely a gathering of journalists. I have to-day the honor of meeting many gentlemen who represent every class in Philadelphia,—every class of professional calling. I will say from my very heart that I thank you. I will remember, as long as I live, the courtesy that has supplemented this sumptuous banquet, and your kindness in calling me to meet such representative men. I am living next door to this room, and had I only heard that I was to meet such a distinguished gathering I am afraid I would have been deterred from facing you. Mr. Handy, your president, has told me that your conventionality consists in being unconventional, and I have tried to be as unconventional as I possibly can. I thank you with all my heart.”
At the conclusion of Irving’s remarks Secretary Deacon read the following letter from the eminent American tragedian, James E. Murdoch:—
Previous engagements of a domestic kind induce me to send “Regrets,” in reply to your invitation to breakfast with the members of the Clover Club and their distinguished guest, Mr. Henry Irving. In regard to certain “effects, defective” consequent upon the “feast of reason and the flow of soul,” I am constrained to say, in the language of Cassio [somewhat altered], “I have but a poor and unhappy stomach for feasting.” I am unfortunate in the infirmity, and dare not task my weakness with the tempting dishes of mind and matter so bountifully served up at complimentary festivals. I hope it will not be considered out of place for me to state that I have had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Irving socially, and of witnessing some of his performances. I esteem him as a man of gentle manners, and regard him as a dramatic genius. He appears to me to possess, in an eminent degree, all those qualities of thought and action which marked so strikingly the historical career of Macready and Charles Kean, and which established the reputation of those gentlemen for consummate skill in stage direction, and for exquisite portraiture of dramatic characters. Desiring to be excused for the obtrusion of my opinion, allow me to add: although I shall not have the pleasure of sitting down to your banquet, I take pleasure in saying:—
“Now, good digestion wait on appetite and health on both”—
... “Come, love and health, to all”....
I drink to the general joy of the whole table, and especially to the health and happiness of your accomplished and worthy guest.
Yours, always, in the bonds of good-fellowship,
JAMES E. MURDOCH.
The next episode of the memorable occasion was one that almost moved Mr. Irving to tears. It was as great a surprise to many members of the club as it was to the guest of the day. Thomas Donaldson, a well-known Clover, after some remarks concerning the drama, in which he spoke of the United States having 1,800 theatres, 20,000 actors and actresses, and spending $40,000,000 for theatrical entertainment, said: “Mr. Irving, I desire to present you with the watch of the greatest genius America ever produced on the mimic stage,—Edwin Forrest.” Mr. Irving clasped the relic extended to him and reverently kissed it. He remained on his feet, having impulsively arisen, and in a voice deep with feeling spoke again:—
“You have bereft me of all words. My blood alone can speak for me in my face, and if my heart could tell it would describe to you my gratitude. This recalls so many memories that you will pardon me if I am not able to express my deep gratitude for this mark of affection. I say affection, for to receive here such a memento of your great country is more than I could have dreamt of. To think that to-day, before so many distinguished Americans, a watch could be given to me that belonged to Edwin Forrest! It recalls a most unfortunate affair; I refer to the contretemps between Forrest and my countryman, Macready. That such a tribute should have been offered me shows how changed is your feeling towards art; shows how cosmopolitan art is in all its phases. I shall wear this watch, Mr. Donaldson, close to my heart. It will remind me of you all, and of your city and of your country,—not that I need anything to remind me,—but close to my heart it will remind me of your kind friendship. With all my heart I thank you.”
As Mr. Irving sat down he kissed the watch again, and then placed it in the upper left-hand pocket of his vest. Accompanying the timepiece which had been Mr. Donaldson’s private possession, were papers proving the authenticity of its original ownership.[25]
Ex-Attorney-General MacVeagh was the next speaker, and he paid a very graceful tribute to foreign theatrical and operatic artists, and the welcome they receive in these days on the shores of America.
Mr. Henry Howe (a leading member of Mr. Irving’s company), who, for forty consecutive years, was a member of the Haymarket Theatre Company, made a warm defence of Macready anent the Forrest trouble. “I have heard him say,” said Mr. Howe, “time and time again, ‘Never in my life did I do anything that would prevent me from shaking Forrest by the hand. I appreciate his genius, and that I could ever have been thought mean enough to do anything against him is the greatest misfortune of my life.’ And henceforth, gentlemen, I believe you will all be ready to defend this man who has been unjustly assailed.”
After many other speeches, songs, and recitations Mr. Irving rose to leave. He said:—
“The welcome you have given me has surpassed my most ideal dream. I cannot describe my feelings. Such generosity, such welcome, such friendship, as I have met with here, no act of mine can repay. I hope to to be back here in the early part of the coming year, and I ask if you will not all at that time be my guests. If you will come you will only add to the greatness of my obligation.”
As Mr. Irving left the room he passed around the table and shook hands warmly with each gentleman present. The breakfast party did not arise until five o’clock. Among those, other than the gentlemen mentioned, who contributed to the pleasure of the occasion, by speech, song, or recitation, were Dr. Edward Bedloe, Rufus E. Shapley, John B. Schoeffel, A. Loudon Snowden, Hon. Robert P. Porter, A. G. Hetherington, British Consul Clipperton, and Nat. Childs. At the latter part of the festivities Attorney-General Brewster entered the room and expressed his regrets that he had been unable to be present in time to shake hands with the Clover guest, and add his own to the club’s welcome of England’s leading actor.
X.
BOSTON AND SHYLOCK.
Rural Scenes on Both Sides of the Atlantic—First Impressions of Railway Travel—The Cars—One of the Largest Theatres in America—The Drama in Boston—Early Struggles to represent Plays in Public—“Moral Lectures”—Boston Criticisms—Shylock, Portia, Hamlet, and Ophelia—Different Readings of Shylock—Dressing-Room Criticism—Shylock considered—A Reminiscence of Tunis—How Shakespeare should be interpreted on the Stage—Two Methods illustrated—Shylock before the Court of Venice—How Actors should be judged.