CHAPTER XIII.
FIRST VISIT TO AMERICA—MAKING MONEY OUT OF SHAKESPEARE—CHATTERTON'S SECRET AGENTS—BIDDING FOR HER MAJESTY'S THEATRE—ILLNESS OF TITIENS—GERSTER'S SUCCESS—PRODUCTION OF "CARMEN."
AT the close of the year 1875 I was invited to spend the evening with some friends to see the old year out and the new year in. Amongst the visitors at the house I met an American gentleman who had seen many of my performances; and he assured me that if I would but go to America I should do a very fine business, but that prior to making arrangements I either ought to send over a trusted agent or go myself. So fully did he impress me by his conversation, that, although I had never contemplated such a thing, I went home late that night, or rather early the next morning, put a lot of traps together, and started the same afternoon for America, reaching Queenstown early on the morning of the 2nd January in time to catch the steamer.
I shall never forget my first voyage. I knew no one on board: we were six or seven passengers in all. Few care to leave for a long voyage on New Year's Day. The vessel was not only small, although a Cunarder, but very unsteady. She was known amongst nautical men as the "Jumping Java." Our passage occupied 14 days, and we had to weather several very severe gales. One day we only made 16 knots.
However, I arrived on the other side in due course, and was forcibly struck with the grand country I had entered. As I could remain there only nine or ten days I hastened to visit Chicago, Philadelphia, Boston, Cincinnati, and other places, in addition to New York. I, however, "prospected" by carefully noting all I saw; and afterwards returned to England to join my touring concert party during the latter part of the month. It was then in the provinces. I felt myself fully master of what I intended the following year to undertake; namely, a tour of Her Majesty's Opera Company in America, which later on in these memoirs I shall have occasion to describe. I also organized another tour in the English provinces, with Salvini, who appeared afterwards in all the principal provincial towns with immense success.
In the middle of October, 1875, I had the honour of being invited by the Duke of Edinburgh to Eastwell Park. Thinking the invitation was only for the day, I took nothing with me but a small bag containing an evening suit and a single shirt. When I arrived at Ashford station I was met by two six-foot men in scarlet liveries, who had arrived with a fourgon, drawn by two splendid horses, into which they proposed to put my luggage. I noticed their efforts to restrain a smile when I handed to them my little hand-bag. Another magnificent equipage had been sent for me personally.
I was received with the greatest possible kindness; and it will interest many of my readers to know that just before dinner the Duchess took me to a buffet on which was laid out caviare, smoked salmon, salt herring (cut into small pieces), dried mushrooms, pickled cucumbers, and the various appetizing delicacies which, with spirits or liqueurs, form the preliminary repast known to the Russians as zakuska.
I had the honour of taking the Duchess in to dinner, where we formed a party of four: the Duke, the Duchess, the equerry in attendance, and myself. After dinner we adjourned to the music-room, where I noticed piles upon piles of music-books. I soon saw that the Duchess was an excellent musician. The Duke, too, received evidence of this; for in difficult passages he was pulled up and corrected again and again. Smoking being permitted and even enjoined, I lighted a cigar and smoked in silence on the sofa, listening with interest to the musical performances, which were in the form of duets for violin and piano, or violin solos with pianoforte accompaniment.
The next morning we were up early, and I was taken over the estate. The Duchess pointed out to me her own particular fish-pond, in which she sometimes angles with a view to the table.
Then I went out shooting with the Duke; a rather trying business, for I had neither shooting-clothes nor, far worse, shooting-boots. Of course it began to rain, and I was soon wet through to the skin, my ordinary walking boots being soaked in such a manner that when I got back to the house, by which time the leather had partially dried and contracted, I had considerable difficulty in getting them off. The Duke was kind enough to lend me an overcoat.