LIBELLING THE LATE SIR HENRY IRVING.

NZ Truth, Issue 80, 29 December 1906, Page 8

LIBELLING THE LATE SIR HENRY IRVING.

Dramatic Scene m Court.

Mr. John L. Toole's Humor.

(By George R. Sims.)

On December 23, 1875, I drew the money for my contribution m the current number of "Fun." One of the contributions, for which 1 received ten shillings, was a letter addressed TO A FASHIONABLE TRAGEDIAN. • „■■:■

There was not the slightest doubt as lto the person to whom, or rather let me say at whom, the letter was' directed.

' Henry Irving was at that time . drawing all London to the Lyceum. He was tbgn playing . ? 'Macbeth,.", and "•■•.Othello": was underlined for production. Above the signature of " A Disinterested Observer," I implored him not to make the boards of the Lyceum the scene of a brutal wife murder. \ I pointed, out to him that he had been murdering people on the stage for some years, and that as a wholesale murderer he had been so iq.tereis'ting and attractive that I feared he, would make unjustifiable homicide a fashionable amusement. I assured the great actor that by the production of a series of studies m bloodshed'he had "canonised the cut-throat and anointetkthe assassin." Incidentally I mentioned that he had strewn the stage with corpses, and referred to the characters he had sustained during his engagement at the iLyceum as "the ghastly train bf butchers you have FOISTED UPON PUBLIC ATTENTION." In conclusion, I implored him to give up the idea. of producing "Othello," and tp let us have something innocent of slaughter. I intended these remarks to be humorous. But I rather overdid the humor. When I lead the effusion m (Cold print m the pages of "Fun" I thought it was undoubtedly strong, (but I had not the slightest idea that it was a police court job. I drew my money, put a copy . of "Fun" m my pocket, and went back to . Addington-square, Camberwell, where I had taken a furrfished house, and m the evening I left Paddington Station by the night mail for Pen- j eance m order to spend Christmas j iwith my mother. I. have a vivid recollection of that iChristmas Day. , Utterly ignorant of ithe ; fact that on the preceding afternoon Mr George Lewis had applied at Guildhall: Police Court for a summons against the printer of "Fun" for criminal libel, I baskedvin .the sunshine of t.he Cornish, Riviera, even,, .as _the Qamb marked out for slaughter ; gambols and dreams not of the impending mint sauce. . . , . . Christmas Day was on Saturday. Oh Sunday I went to the Land's End and s.at on a rock and wrote a, comic •poem to the Atlantic for the next /week's "Fun." On Monday morning I went to the railway station to get some newspapers, and there I purchased a" Western Morning News." I sat down on a seat at/ the station, lit a pipe, and ben-an to read. .Suddenly my eye c?^y»ht the words : > CHARGE OF LIBEL AGAINST "FUN." I gave a little gasp and went , on. Mr Georgo Lewis had handed my "Letter to a Fashionable Tragedian" to a magistrate instead, and had asked for a summons, and it had been granted against Mr Judd, tlie printer. I rushed 1o the telegraph office and wived to Henry Sampson, the editor: "Am coming up. Meet me Paddington midnight." ■■.-.„ ': I bade mv mother and sisters a hurried farewell. They had seen the paper and had vis: on? of a police-van, the Old D.:ilov. and a lons period -.of scciusu.ii for ;i:o m o;ie of Her Majesty VHum<»s uf lU/bt for the Wicked. _ i

- My mother shed tears, and'my own lip trembled, but I was determined to face the music— "give myself up" I think I called' it— and abide by the result. ■

It w^s not a cheer ful -journey. I had intended to have a week m Penzahce, arid return like a giant refreshed to Fleet-street. , On Tuesday the case was proceeded with. as. against Mr Judd. I sat m the court and* listened to Mr George Lewis, while m scathing terms he denounced the author of the abominable libel. I listened to Henry Irving as m the witness-box he denied that he had ever

"CANONISED THE CUT-THROAT OR ANOINTED THE ASSASSIN." and I felt extremely uncomfortable. In my modesty I had disguised myself 'm. a pair of pince-nez-i-an ornament I never wore before and have never worn since.

Mrt- Thomas Beard defended Mr Judd, who on all sides was pitied as the innocent printer. Who was the author of this scandalous libel— why did he not come forth ?

. Mr. Beard explained that Mr Sampson, the editor, took full responsibility. I sat beside Henry Sampson, and whispered to him m a melodramatic^- aside : "No * I will share it With you." '•" .v, The proceedings were adjourned till Thursday, the magistrate, Sir Robeirt Carden, a dignified alderman with a wonderful wealth .of white hair and an old-world simplicity, smiling benevolently on Mr. Judd.

On Thursday the- court was packed. Mrs Bateman and her daughters were present to stippoirfc Mr Irving, Lady Pollock sat on the bench, Mr John L. Toole, Mr Frederic Clay, and a host of celebrities were accommodated with seats, and one or two of them went into the witness-box. So did I. I stepped in— glaring defiantly through my .pince-nez,. s 0 they* told me afterwards— and was the author of the article I replied melodramatically. "Yes ; and I have come 400 miles to say so." (A murmur of applause m court, 1 which was instantly suppressed.) "Where do you come, from ?" asked Mr Lewis. "From Penzance." * "That is only three hundred' and twenty-six miles and a half. Pray be (accurate!" was the famous solicitor's • withering retort. And he instantly applied for a summons against Sampson and v myself. ' " Mr John L. Toole then went into | the. box and convulsed the house— l mean the court— with laugher. Even \ the grave, white-headed old alderman smiled audibly at the great comedian's replies. I don't think Mr Toole meant to be funny m a court of justice, but he couldn't help it. In the palmy . days ot the favorite comedian lie had only to open his mouth to get a roar. . .

After references by Mr Toole to Kean, Macready, and other eminent tragedians, Sir Robert Carden remanded the defendants, Sampson and myself, m sureties of £100 each, "and themselves m £200."

The Christmas holidays were ov«r, and so when we again appeared at the Guildhall there was an enormous crowd both inside and outside.

The crowd outside gave the principals on the prosecution side a tremendous welcome. The proceedings m the court would not to-day be tolerated for a moment. ' Their" constituted a theatrical matinee and nothing, else. When- Irving went into the witnessbox Ihe applause was deafening. Toole also got a splendid reception, which he acknowledged witli a comic little bow, and tbe evidence tendered

on behalf of the prosecution was received with rounds of applause. One old gentleman with an ear-tnmipet banged his umbrella frequently, and often m the wrong plac?. I had not been idle during the adjournment.' As it was a theatrical performance, I felt that I also must have a few friends "m front."

I had been t-o the Lord Mayor— why I don't know, except that lie was a friend of ray father— and he had very kindly received me m the Venetian parlor, given rae some excellent * advice, and suggested that Mr Besley, the son of Alderman Besley, was the best man I could get to defend me. But Mr Besley was a very eminent and a Very busy barrister, and he didn't turn up, so dear old' Tom Beard, also a great personal friend, of my father, came to the rescue, and j stuck up for me like a Briton. j I had no witnesses, for I was quite unknown m the theatrical world, but | George Maddick, the originator of a [hundred newspapers ot vatious lengths of life, informed the court that Sampson had edited the' 'Latest News" for i him, and "had never got him into such [trouble as this." ISO WITH CHEERS AND LAUGH- | TER the stamping of feet and clapping of hands, ■ the great Irving Libel Case went. on. Suddenly there was a pause. Outside there was a mighty roar of cheering. \ A moment later Mr George Lewis rose to say that he had received an intimation that an important witness, Mr Dion Boucicault, was outside, and was .unable, owing to the density of the crowd, to get into the court.

Thereupon Mr Roe, the chief officer, proceeded with an escort of police, rescued Mr Dion Boucicault from the homage of the mob, brought him safely into the building, and deposited him m the witness-box.

The famous author and actor, the idol of the Adelphi, had a magnificent reception. Several ladies . waved their pocket handkerchief s, and when order was at last restored, and the great Dion could be heard, he said that m his opinion the libel referred to Mr Henry Irving—and' that was all. ■ ■ r

Then Mr Toole went into the wit-ness-box to hear his deposition read over, as it had heen arranged that we should he committed to the Centrar Criminal Court.

Another demonstration of popular esteem was accorded to Mr Toole' and entering into the spirit of the thing I applauded, too, but was sternly reminded . by an active and' intelligent official that I was m a court of justice. ,

Sir Robert Carden— l ca v n see that wonderful white head waggling at me now— then gave us the usual' caution, and said if we wanted to say anything 'now was the time, but there was no necessity for . us to incriminate ourselves, "not that , he meant we were criminals." .

Henry Sampson replied that he regretted that he had inserted an article which he freely admitted was open to the interpretation the prosecution had nut upon it. I said that nothing was further from my Ihoughts than to charge Mr Irvine seriously with debasing public tast6,anH inciting , THE MASSES TO COMMIT MURDER. I denied that I had set down aught m malice, although, I wished to "nothing extenuate." This little bit qf Shakespeare was considered very appropriate to the occasion by my Fleet-street friends m court. The sum total of both our speeches was an expression of regret' at the annoyance Mr Irvinfe had evidently been caused. Then came another dramatic moment. Irving was; seen to .whisper to George Lewis. Instantly there was a hush, and you might have heard the proverbial pin drop. . Mr Lewis informed the court that Mr Irving, having heard our expressions of regret, accepted the apology. and intended to proceed no farther. (Loud and prolonged applause.) Mr Lewis thereupon asked that the'defendants might be discharged. Sir Robert Carden made a graceful little speech about Mr Irving, and was very nice to Mr Sampson and myself, hoping that our experience of a court of justice would be a lesson to us "m all our future writings/" and so ended the great Irving Libel Case.

The press comments were unanimously unfriendly to the author of the unfortunate contribution to a comic journal. Not one of them recognised the fact that I had, through lack of experience, overstepped the mark m an exaggeration which I intended to be humorous. One newspaper, venturing on prophecy, said :— "The absurd libel was written by a young man named Sims, of whom nothing has ever been heard before, and of whom nothing m all probability will ever be heard

again. . Reading the libel over agam m the lieht of experience, I see that it was offensive, and that much of it was capable of being taken as a serious charge against the good taste, aiid artistic aim of the -great actor. But it astonishes me still that an article which implored an actor not' to produce "Othello" , because the nlay might lead t 0 an epidemic of wife murder ' should have been considered bad enough to justify criminal proceedings during . the Christimas week.: ■' •

j But all's, well that ends well. Henry Irving, who preferred the charge not of his own free will, but at the earnest request of the Lyceum management, withdrew from it graciously and generously at the earliest opportunity. I never knew who paid the costs. I know that I didn't, and all the "bill" that I received was one for four guineas irom Tom Beard, j who had done me a HUNDRED POUNDS' WORTH OF SERVICE. And now about the principal actors m this Christmas production at ithe Guildhall Police Court. Two days after the "happy ending" I called on Irving at his chambers m Graf ton-street, and explained exactly what I had m my mind when I wrote the unfortunate letter to a "Fashionable Tragedian.'-' From that day. January 5, 1876, to the day of. his death, Henry Irving was my good friend, and among the autographs I prize are many generous and. appreciative letters from the greatest actor of our time. John Lawrence Toole, who was one of the principal witnesses against me, land who said m the box that it was, I the most atrocious libel he had ever

read, became my. friend also; and many a pleasant day— aye, and pleasant nieht, too—have 1 spent with the kins' of comedians m the happy days when "the joy of life" was still his to the full.

Mrs Bateman, when she gave up the management of the Lyceum and took Sadler's Wells, sent for me to write a play for her, and Miss Isabel Bateman was the heroine of "In the Ranks," the drama by Henry Pettitt and myself which ran for over a year at the Adelphi.

Frederic Clay, the ' composer of " FLL SING THEE SONGS OF

ARABY," another witness against me, became not only my dearest friend but my devoted work-fellow. We wrote together "The Merry Duchess" for the Royalty and "The Golden Ring" for the Alhambra.

And what shall I say of the solicitor for the prosecution, who 'made things exceedingly unpleasant for me m the interests of his distinguished client ? He is now Sir George Lewis, and there is no privilege I prize more than that of occasionally being admitted to his sanctum m Ely-place for a pleasant chat over old times "m thc intervals of business."

To-day as I write I turn up my scrap-book and look upon my gouven lirs of the It ving. Li lei Case. On one page I find myself represented as "a curious insect." Irving has stuck a pen into me and- is gazing at me throueh a microscope. In another press cutting the writes ■ -seriously argues .that my "objection to Shakespeare* is not a novelty," and goes back nearly a hundred years to find another writer who saw public mis-^ chief m the Bard of Avon's "blood and thunder dramas. ■' \

And I meant my "Letter" as a ioke— parodv of an inflated , style. The genial humorist, Artemus Ward, certainly showed commendable business caution when he added m parentheses to some of his remarks which he intended to be jocular, "N.B.— This is rote Sarcaeti.ce.l."