THE SKETCHER.

Otago Witness, Issue 2171, 3 October 1895, Page 45

THE SKETCHER.

SIR HENRY IRYING.

Sir Henry Irving, the First of Liyino Actors. "To what do you attribute the romantic tinge which seems to colour all your performances ? " said the writer some years since to our great actor. 11 In my youth, which was spent amongst the Cornl3h rocks aud mines, I fed my fancy on the legends and the folk-lore of that dear old county," was the reply. Born February 6, 1838, at Glastonbury, Somerset, John Hanry Brodrib— for that is his real name — spent a few years as a city clerk, plying his quill in Lombard street till he reached the age of 19, when he sought the advice of the great aclor Phelps. " STICK TO YOUR DKSK," growled tbe tragedian. But the fit was too strong. So after some practice ai an amateur he betook himself to the provinces, making hia first appearance on tbe stage September 29, 1856, at Sunderland, as Gaston in " Richelieu." Sir Henry Irviag has told me "that on that occasion his nervousness was so great that he fainted outright"; but he did not tell me the sequel. That came later from a member of his company. Tbe aotor who restored Mr Irving to conaclousneos and cheered him to fresh efforts so won tbe love of the friendless boy that he said : " If ever I rise in the wcrld, come to me. I sha'n't forget." Yoars elapsed. Oue day, as he was leaving the Lyceum after rehearsal, the manager found himself face to face with his old friend. " Out of employment ! I'm so glad ! Go to Loveday, my manager, aud toll him to make you out an engagement to him AS LONG AS I AM LESSJCE here." Presently tbe actor returned. 11 Well, what salary ? " " Fivo pounds a week." " Only £5 1 Shameful ! preposterous ! Go back and tell him to make it £10^, week." This was over 20 years ago, and this fortunate gentleman is still at the Lyceum. During Mr Irviog's novitiate his woekly salary frequently did not amount to as many shillings ; but money he never oared for. He has told the writer that he once advertised to read " The Lady of Lyons " in the town of Linllthgow. Tbe reading never came off, as tho public reuolutely refused to attend. M&ny actoria would have gooe home broken-hearted. "I NKVKR SLEPT BETTER than I did that night," said Sir Henry. Even after obtaining in 1859, through the influence of his life-long friend J. L. Toole, a three years' engagement with the father of Sir Augustus Harris, then lessee of the Prinoesß'B Theatre, he persuaded the manager to release him from his engagement because, in his first part, he Lad only Bix lines to apeak. The young actor wanted fame, and he didn't mind work. So ho returned to the provinces, and, after playing in no less than 594 parts, 428 of which wore mastered io. two and a-balf years, he again re-appeared in London, this time at the St. James's in 1866 ; and, after a variety of engagements, accepted one at the Lyceum, where he has remained ever since. ' In London he has played 65 part 3, 25 of which have been original. On the score of industry alone this is A REMARKA.BLB ACHIEVEMENT. But it is more. Hia performances stamp him as the greatest living English actor of modern times. His raDge Is tremendous; the entire gamut of the passions responds to his artistic touch. A face, instinct with intelligence, power, and refinement of mind has gone far to make him popular wherever he performs. In hio power of holding an audience spellbound he has never been excelled. It is almost universally believed that Sir Henry is indebted to v The Bells " for the reputation he now enjoys. This is wrong. It may be as well to tell the true story. When the late Mr Bateman took the Lyceum Theatre to exploit the abilities of the late George Belmore, amongst other play?, nearly ALL OV WHICH WERE FAILURES, was " Pickwick." Irving, a member of tho company, played Jingle. As was the custom with stars in those days, every care was bestowed on Belmore's— Sam Weller— scenes, and none at all on Irvlng's. Yet when tho curtain foil the first night the publio called only for Irving, and when the notices appeared next morning confirming the verdict, the asute Bateman reshaped his policy. He said to a friend of the writer : " I've a gold mine here." To Irving himself he said : 11 Well, Harry, dear boy, and what can I do for you 1 " " Produce ' Tha Bslls,' " wa« the reply ; and the manager did. Shortly after Batemaa's death Mr Irving took over the reins of management, and since 1878 has been his own manager. HIS CHEAPEST PRODUCTION, " Faust," cost him £9000. Over this be recouped himself in two months. " Henry VIII," his most expensive production, cost nearly double. j Sir' Henry IrviDg is very near-sighted. So, also, is Mr Frank Cooper, one of his company. Onoe, whilst playing in a well-known piece, Irving dropped the amulet, a small charm presented to him by the blind girl, played by Miss Terry. The actors looked about the Etsge ; but as neither could see it, the play camo to a stand still. Presently a titter was heard in the gallery. "It's near tho footlights, towards the centre," whispered the blind girl, who was the only one who saw it. But the aotors couldn't find it ; co seeing that matters were growing serious, THE BLIND GIRL STOOPED and h »*"'"! her lover the oharm, The few laughs waich greeted this ware drowned in an Indignant " Hush 1 hush 1 " Sir Henry lives in a house in Orafton

street, off Bond street. He has a couple oJL floors there. The rooms have a somewhat sombre appearance, for the light has to find its way through windows of stained glass. The artif-tio mind frequently delights in disorder. Sir Henry's rooms are models of disorder, booka lying about everywhere, MSS., letters, and properties littering the table. There is a chair in Graf ton Btreetto which the owner is profoundly attached. It is on the vergo of dissolution, but Sir Henry love* it. Mr ArnoU, tho property master, a gentleman whose groat talents are dominated by neatness and a love of order, onca STOLE THIS CHAIR from Grafton street, and after Laving it refitted brought it back. The actor was 80 horrified when he saw it that he then and there sent it back to have it restored to its former condition. t , For all his pallor, the great actor enjoys wonderful health. He is never ill. His digestive organs are the wonder of the medical world. Little is eaten dnring the day, a small lunoh at the Garrick when not rehearsing, a light dinner and a glass of port ; but at midnight the supper is generous. At 10 the next morning a stroll about Bond street with his favourite terrier. Late in the afternoon comes tbo 40 winks. The importance he attaches to his nap is only equalled by the disregard he evinces, as we have said, for money. The fluted pillars which evoked such admiration in •' Much Ado About Nothing " were modelled at Her Majesty's Tbeatro, in the H^ymarket, tbe property room there boirg vary large. One of them whilst being removed came into collision with a van, and was SNAPPED IN TWO. Arnott flew to his manager and knocked at his door. " Who is it 1 " cried the drowsy on*. " Arnott, sir." 11 Gt away ; I'm asleep." " Oue of the pillars has broken." " Make another." "Bub the koy3 of the theatre have been sent out of town." " Send a man after them." 11 Bnt the pillar must be ready in two days, and it would take 30 men to get it ready." "Well, hire the 30 men." " To make tho pillar in two days wonld cost £100." " I don't care if it costs £200. Go away t and let me sleep." At one time thoro were no le;B than five old leading man at the Lyceum en the treasury list. You asked them, " How did you get here ? " The answer was invariably the same.': " I knew the governor in the old days." That is the passport. No respectable actor who had known him in the past and who bad done little services for him waa evar refused. IE the speaking partß were all filled and the actor was in extremis, there was £3 a week for SHOULDERING A SPEAR AS A " SUPBB." The writor ramembers one Lyceum production Iv which there were no lobs than seven actors, all of whom had once enjoyed great popularity.doing sentinel work.not so that the audience could s«o who they were — Sir Henty had too much consideration for that — but hidden behind a battlement, so that only the tops of the spears coald be seen. Just before the firat night of this play two more applicants appeared. There .was no room for the new-comora ; but the manager was equal to the emergency, and they were given £3 a week each as understudies to the seven spears I As ho never forgets a kindness, so HE NEVEB FORGIVES AN INJURY ; only hia way of avenging paßt slights IB peculiarly his own. Year* ago, rehearsing 11 Much Ado About Nothing," tbe manager, atter roundly abusing him for his vile acting, as he called it, took him out of the Sexton, a very good part, andput him into Seacole, a very poor part. In h'ls old age this manager was glad to accept an engagement at the Lyceum, where In the same play he was cast for the part of Seacole. Now came Sir Henry's turn. One morning, after gravely complimenting the old manager for his excellent acting, he took him out of the bad part, Seacole, and gave him the good part, tha Sexton.- " I never knew what coate of fire meant till then," said the old gentleman when he told me tha story. Irving owes his position on the stage a£ much to his indefatigable energy as to native ability. He shirks no work, however arduous, whioh may be necessary in the elaboration of his plays. Every detail of costume and stage management comes under his own eye, and he drills his company in a new piece until every word and gesture is perfect. When it is mentioned that Sir Edward Burne- Jonas designer th« scenery and Sir Arthur Sullivan composed the incidental music for " King Arthur," it will be seen at once that Irving | stops short at nothing to mako his representations as good as they can be made. " Thorough " has been hia watchword all his life, and to this principle and to hia matchless histrionic abilities he owes his great success.