Ellen Terry and Her Sisters

by T. Edgar Pemberton

CHAPTER III

THE BRISTOL STOCK COMPANY

The engagement at the Royalty was only a stopgap, and at its termination the wise Mr. Ben Terry took his daughter "to school," in one of the famous stock companies that then most happily existed in all the large provincial towns. They were indeed "schools"—schools of a very practical order—and in them most of the leading actors of our generation graduated.

Now that they have vanished, the great question among the would-be actors and actresses of to-day (or I should say among those who are in earnest) is "where can we find a true dramatic school?" Alas! too many of them abjure school, and, with the awkwardness (though very little of the timidity) of half-fledged birds, flutter blindly on to the stage, and blunder under the unwonted glare of footlights, to the bewilderment of the theatrical habitués and the despair of critics, but apparently to the great satisfaction of themselves and their foolishly admiring friends.

I am inclined to think that theatre-lovers who never lived in a large town in the good old stock company days missed one of the joys of life. The actors and actresses in those companies (I speak from personal experience) were our pride and our delight. Their names were familiar in our mouths and homes as household words. Eagerly we scanned the ever-changing play-bills to see what this or that favourite would do next; anxiously we turned to the newspaper to see if the privileged critic did full justice to them. They were, both on and off the stage, our local heroes, heroines, soul-inspirers, and mirth-provokers. They were familiar figures in our streets, and we loved to meet them. When, according to the custom of those days, the "stars" from London came down to be supported by the stock company, we were so loyal to the friends who delighted us all the year round that we pretended to think little or nothing of the stars. When, in due course, some of them moved on to London, we watched their careers with the deepest interest. In short, between the players and their patrons there existed a personal affection. If they did not know each other "off the stage," the magnetic touch was there, and it meant everything to those on both sides of the curtain. The result was painstaking and sound (if not always great) acting, and well-judged applause from fond and encouraging audiences. Under such conditions, actors who already had their hearts in their vocation, did not care how hard they worked, and constant experience, coupled with true endeavour, perfected them in their art.

But it was hard work! Edward Compton has told me that at the shortest notice he was called upon to study and play within one week important parts in "The Octoroon," "The Old Toll House," "Thirty Years of a Gambler's Life," and "Raby Rattler," and I believe Sir Henry Irving could record even harder experiences.

But the firing of the clay brought out the colours on the porcelain, and the colours lasted. At the time when Ellen Terry was taken to one of these important schools, there was no better stock company in England than that brought together by Mr. J. H. Chute, the enterprising and far-seeing manager of the Theatre Royal, Bristol. Mr. Chute seemed to have a knack of gathering about him most of the promising young artists of the day, and certainly those who learnt their lessons under the roof of his academy did justice to his name.

It is tantalising to think of a West of England stock company (Mr. Chute at that time was responsible for the Bath as well as the Bristol theatre) that, within a very short period, could boast of such a constellation of names as Madge Robertson (Mrs. Kendal), Marie Wilton (Lady Bancroft), Henrietta Hodson (Mrs. Labouchere), Kate Bishop, Kate and Ellen Terry, George Melville, Arthur Stirling, George and William Rignold, W. H. Vernon, David James, Charles Coghlan, Arthur Wood, John Rouse, and J. F. Cathcart.