But in her girlish days Kate Terry had shown that she understood the value of action on the stage, and knew that when deftly handled it could make an even deeper impression than words.
Speaking of Charles Kean's great production of "Henry the Fifth" at the Princess's in 1859 the notoriously keen critic of the Athenæum said:—"The union of England and France in one kingdom is the ambitious sentiment of the play, and the heroism of the English character the spirit that pervades the scenes. This is exemplified in the small as well as the great incidents, and in none, in acting, did it come out more significantly than in the little part of the boy belonging to the Pistol group of characters at the end of the first act. Miss Kate Terry, as the impersonator of the brave youth, in the heroic and pleasing attitude with which he listened to the sound of the drum, and the measured march with which he followed delightedly the spirit-stirring music, showed us at once the sympathetic gallantry of the English lad going to the wars. There was in it an intelligible indication of the wonderful daring by which the battle of Agincourt was won. To men who were once such lads as he nothing was impossible. The trait was well brought out; and that little bit of acting, in regard to its completeness, was the gem of the performance."
And so Kate Terry shared in Fechter's Lyceum conquests, and in "Bel Demonio, a Love Story," adapted by John Brougham from the French drama "L'Abbaye de Castro," she played Lena to his Angelo. A little later she was the "pretty Ophelia" to the much discussed Hamlet of Fechter, and again honours were divided.
How critics differed concerning the new Hamlet!
Writing long after the glamour of the impersonation has passed away, Clement Scott has told us how Hamlet was represented "in a new way, in a fresh style, with carefully considered new business; with a sweetly pathetic face showing 'the fruitful river of the eye,' and in a long flaxen Danish wig.
"'A Frenchman play Hamlet!'" he says. "There was a yell of execration in the camp of the old school of playgoers, and the feathers began to fly. Hamlet in a fair wig indeed! Hamlet in broken English! Oh! you should have heard the shouts of indignation, the babble of prejudice! The upholders of the mouthing, moaning, gurgling Hamlets—the Hamlets who obeyed every precept in his advice to the players, and 'imitated nature so abominably,' the Hamlets who strutted and stormed—held indignation meetings at their clubs, and metaphorically threw their 'scratch wigs' into the air with rage and indignation.
"I, of course, became the easiest convert to the new Fechter school, and elected to serve under his brilliant banner. In fact, I will candidly own that I never quite understood Hamlet until I saw Fechter play the Prince of Denmark. Phelps and Charles Kean impressed me with the play; but with Fechter I loved the play, and was charmed as well as fascinated by the player."
I am among the many who yielded to that charm, and wish that the delightful experience of seeing Fechter's Hamlet and Kate Terry's Ophelia might be repeated.
When, early in 1870, Fechter left England for America, Charles Dickens contributed to the Atlantic Monthly an article in his praise. "I cannot," said the great novelist, "wish my friend a better audience than he will find in the American people, and I cannot wish them a better actor than they will find in my friend." Charles Dickens, it will be remembered, was one of the keenest of all dramatic critics.
His admiration for Fechter's much discussed rendering of Hamlet is expressed in the following words:—