"Perhaps no innovation in art was ever accepted with so much favour by so many intelligent persons, pre-committed to, and pre-occupied by, another system, as Fechter's Hamlet. I take this to have been the case (as it unquestionably was in London), not because of its picturesqueness, not because of its novelty, not because of its many scattered beauties, but because of its perfect consistency with itself. Its great and satisfying originality was in its possessing the merit of a distinctly conceived and executed idea. Fechter's Hamlet, a pale woe-begone Norseman, with long flaxen hair, wearing a strange garb, never associated with the part upon the English stage (if ever seen there at all), and making a piratical sweep upon the whole fleet of little theatrical prescriptions without meaning, or like Dr. Johnson's celebrated friend, with only one idea in them, and that a wrong one, never could have achieved its extraordinary success but for its animation by one pervading purpose, to which all changes were made intelligently "sub-servient."
And yet of Fechter's Hamlet in America, William Winter, that greatest and most deservedly honoured of transatlantic critics and authorities on things theatrical, has said:—
"About 1861 Charles Fechter appeared upon the English stage and gave an extraordinary performance of Hamlet. It subsequently (1869-70) reached America. It was 'the rage' on both sides of the sea. In a technical sense it was a performance of ability, but it was chiefly remarkable for light hair and bad English. Fanny Kemble tells a story of a lady who, at a dinner in London, was asked by a neighbouring guest whether she had seen Mr. Fechter as Hamlet. 'No,' she said, 'I have not; and I think I should not care to hear the English blank verse spoken by a foreigner.' The inquirer gazed meditatively upon his plate for some time, and then said, 'But, Hamlet was a foreigner, wasn't he?'
"That is the gist of the whole matter. We were to have the manner of 'nature' in blank verse. We were to have Hamlet in light hair, because Danes are sometimes blonde. We were to have the great soliloquy on life and death omitted, because it stops the action of the play.[1] We were to have the blank verse turned into a foreigner's English prose. We were to have Hamlet crossing his legs upon the gravestone, as if he were Sir Charles Coldstream; and this was to be 'nature.' Mr. Fechter's plan may have been finely executed, but it was radically wrong, and it could not be rightly accepted. Some courage was required to oppose it, because Mr. Fechter had come to us (to me among others) personally commended by no less a man than the great Charles Dickens."
But if critics differed with regard to the merits of Fechter's Hamlet, there was a perfect chorus of praise for the exquisitely portrayed Ophelia of Kate Terry. It is interesting to note that this victory was won on the same stage on which, in the same part, Ellen Terry was to commence her stage history-making engagement with Henry Irving.
When Fechter's brief reign at the Lyceum came to an end, Kate Terry went to support Henry Neville at the Olympic Theatre. This admirable actor was then at the height of his still well sustained popularity.
Handsome, graceful, endowed with a beautiful voice, and a master of his art, Henry Neville was an ideal hero of romance, and though to-day he elects to play quieter parts, and to delight his audiences with his rich appreciation of comedy, he looks as young and dashing as he did in the days of 1864.
Kate Terry's first appearance at the little Wych Street playhouse was in a piece entitled "The Hidden Hand," an adaptation by Tom Taylor, from the French drama by MM. D'Ennery and Edmond, called "L'Aieule." She and Henry Neville distinguished themselves in the characters of Lord and Lady Penarvon, and the company included Miss Louisa Moore, Miss Lydia Foote, Miss Nelly Farren, and Charles Coghlan. Later came Sterling Coyne's comedy called "Everybody's Friend," which, under the title of "The Widow Hunt," was destined in later years to be made famous by that admirable American comedian, John Sleeper Clarke. Who, having seen it, will ever forget the delicious drollery of his Major Wellington de Boots? The Major of the Olympic days was Mr. Walcot, who, although announced as an American actor, was an Englishman by birth. Kate Terry was the Mrs. Swansdown, Henry Neville the Felix Featherley, and Mrs. Leigh Murray Mrs. Major de Boots.
Other successes were made in Tom Taylor's five-act drama "Settling Day," and the same playwright's "The Serf." The production of the latter piece being the "benefit" night of the gifted actress, she delivered an address written for her by the grateful author.