[18] “Bathed in their own liquor.”—Sir Henry Thompson.
[19] In case this charge against Irving should be exploited by the “little English correspondent” who undertakes to describe his “Palace on the Thames,” let me say that for one who talks so well about eating, Irving—next to a great authority on gourmandize—recently dead, alas!—is the most moderate diner I know. He discourses of dishes with the eloquence of Brillat Savarin, and eats as frugally as the “Original Walker” did, and is as easily contented as was my late friend, Blanchard Jerrold (“Fin-Bec”), who wrote so much, and always so well, about the art of dining, that those who did not know him might naturally have regarded him as a gourmand. He knew the literature of “the table” thoroughly, but lived as simply as Irving does. It will be noted that it is the simplicity of the dinner under notice that awakens Irving’s enthusiasm. New York, by the way, has many restaurants, in addition to its most famous one (Delmonico’s) and the house in Lafayette place. The Hoffman House and the Brunswick are well-known for their excellent cuisine. Among the hotels that are equally famous for their chefs are the Everett House, the Windsor, the St. James, the Victoria, and the Clarendon. The latter is to New York what such establishments as Morley’s and the oldest West End hotels are to London. It is one of the pleasantest, and certainly the quietest, of New York houses. There are very bad hotels in the United States, and very good ones; dear hotels, and hotels where the charges are fair; but the general idea of uniform excellence and uniform dearness which obtains in England is incorrect. One class of houses which the English traveller misses is the comfortable family inn or tavern (where the landlord and landlady are in evidence all the time), common in England, France, and Germany; and the other absent luxuries, for the lack of which oysters and canvas-back ducks do not altogether compensate him, are the mutton-chop, the beefsteak, the ham and bacon, the sole, salmon, and bloaters of his own country.
[20] “The difference between a gourmet and gourmand we take to be this: a gourmet is he who selects, for his nice and learned delectation, the most choice delicacies, prepared in the most scientific manner; whereas the gourmand bears a closer analogy to that class of great eaters, ill-naturedly (we dare say) denominated or classed with aldermen.”—Haywood’s Art of Dining.
[21] These lines were written by Mrs. Marion Fortescue, a lady well known in New York society.
[22] Mr. Irving presented a Hamlet last evening that was entirely consistent with itself and with the play, and the most virile, picturesque, and lovable Hamlet that has been seen on the stage. There was great variety in his moods and manners. He realized Goethe’s idea of a born prince,—gentle, thoughtful, and of most moral nature, without the strength of nerve to make a hero, and overcome by the responsibility put upon him by a vision whose message he alternately accepts and doubts. There was, indeed, the fullest variety given to the part; it was dramatically interesting, and a clearly marked, intelligent study that more than realized the expectations that had been formed of the personation.—Philadelphia Ledger.
[23] Distinguished Visitors.—The “Evening Call” band of fifty-one pieces and the “Evening Call” flute and drum corps, numbering thirty-five pieces, making a total of eighty-six performers, formed before the Union League building this morning, and proceeded down Broad street a few yards, to the Hotel Bellevue, and tendered a complimentary serenade to the distinguished English actor, Henry Irving. Several delightful airs, including “God Save the Queen,” were rendered with fine effect. Mr. J. H. Coplestone, Mr. Abbey’s manager for Mr. Irving, acknowledged the compliment on behalf of the eminent tragedian. The band then proceeded to the Aldine Hotel, where Miss Ellen Terry, Mr. Irving’s leading lady, was serenaded, following which the musicians gave a short street parade. At the conclusion of the serenade Mr. Irving sent the following pleasant little note to the office of the “Evening Call”:—
“Hotel Bellevue, Philadelphia,
29th November (‘Thanksgiving Day’), 1883.
“To the Editor of the Evening Call:—
“My Dear Sir,—Upon this day of universal thankfulness allow me to add a personal item. My thanks to you and your magnificent band for the honor done to me this morning by their serenade. I enjoyed the music much, and beg to add my tribute of praise to the worth of your band which, to my mind, is amongst the best I have heard. To hear the strains of the national anthem of my own dear land here and on such a day touched me much, and assures me again in a forcible manner of the strength of the affection between the two countries, America and England.