In the pages of his fascinating Diary (or "Journal") Scott records—
"October 20, 1826 (London).—At breakfast, Crofton Croker, author of the 'Irish Fairy Tales.' Something like Tom Moore. There were also Terry, Allan Cunningham, Newton, and others."
"October 21, 1826.—We returned to a hasty dinner in Pall Mall, and then hurried away to see honest Dan Terry's house, called the Adelphi Theatre, where we saw 'The Pilot,' from the American novel of that name. It is extremely popular, the dramatist having seized on the whole story, and turned the odious and ridiculous parts, assigned by the original author to the British, against the Yankees themselves. There is a quiet effrontery in this that is of a rare and peculiar character. The Americans were so much displeased, that they attempted a row—which rendered the piece doubly attractive to the seamen at Wapping, who came up and crowded the house night after night to support the honour of the British flag.... I was, however, glad to see honest Dan's theatre as full seemingly as it could hold. The heat was dreadful, and Anne was so very unwell that she was obliged to be carried into Terry's house—a curious dwelling, no larger than a squirrel's cage, which he has contrived to squeeze out of the vacant spaces of the theatre, and which is accessible by a most complicated combination of staircases and small passages. Here we had rare good porter and oysters after the play, and found Anne much better. She had attempted too much; indeed, I myself was much fatigued."
Later comes a sadder note:—
"February 3, 1827.—Terry has been pressed by Gibson for my debt to him. That I may get managed."
And again—
"April 15, 1828.—Got the lamentable news that Terry is totally bankrupt. This is a most unexpected blow, though his carelessness about money matters was very great. God help the poor fellow! He has been ill-advised to go abroad, but now returns to stand the storm—old debts, it seems, with principal and interest accumulated, and all the items which load a falling man. And wife, such a good and kind creature, and children. Alack! alack! I sought out his solicitor. There are £7000 or more to pay, and the only fund his share in the Adelphi Theatre, worth £5000 and upwards, and then so fine a chance of independence lost. That comes of not being explicit with his affairs. The theatre was a most flourishing concern. I looked at the books, and since have seen Yates. The ruin is inevitable, but I think they will not keep him in prison, but let him earn his bread by his very considerable talents. I shall lose the whole or part of £5000, which I lent him, but that is the last of my concern."
And then follow these interesting and touching entries:—
"May 8, 1828.—I have been of material assistance to poor Terry in his affairs."
"June 18, 1829.—Poor Terry is totally prostrated by a paralytic affection. Continuance of existence not to be wished for."
"July 9, 1829.—Many recollections die with poor Terry."
Of his semi-partnership with his actor-friend, Sir Walter Scott, in a humorous mood, wrote:—"I have been made a dramatist whether I would or no. I believe my muse would be Terryfied into treading the stage even if I should write a sermon."
Benjamin Terry, the father of the clever family who form the subject of these pages, became in his time very popular in Edinburgh, and it was there that he attracted the attention of Charles Kean, and obtained his offer for the actor's Mecca—London. But his experience had no doubt been earned in some of the old "circuits" that were the theatrical schools of his early days, and turned out many a true artist. The actors and actresses who thus served their apprenticeship to the stage assuredly had rough times of it, but they had for the most part joined the profession for the love of it—they adored Shakespeare and the authors of the "legitimate drama,"—and, in spite of tedious journeys from town to town, poor business, and bad theatrical accommodation at the end of them, looked forward to and enjoyed the evening's performance. Enthusiasm and hard work led to their reward, and many a poor strolling-player became a shining light on the London stage.