1
1
1
CORNELL
UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY
DATE DUE
int?^ibr»
r<h\-^^
-e^^
ity LTTBiH—
1
1
•
GAVLORD
CT782 .M96 '" ""'""'"^ """^
Chronicle of friendships by Luther
olin
lUund
3 1924 029 872 060
A CHRONICLE
OF
FRIENDSHIPS
Cjuu UuJL ^
LINES BT THE DUKE OF ARGYLL, K.G., P.C., K.T., C.C.M.6., G.C.T.O.
Cornell University
Library
The original of this book is in
the Cornell University Library.
There are no known copyright restrictions in
the United States on the use of the text.
http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924029872060
LUTHER MONDAY, 1896.
A CHRONICLE OF
FRIENDSHIPS
BY
LUTHER MUNDAY
ILLUSTRATED
NEW YORK
FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
30S5!8 e
V B,D
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
Anthony Munday and Shakespeare — In a London Office —
Sea Days as Naval Volunteer — The Fire Brigade —
River Police — London in the Seventies — My Hundred
Churches — Music Halls — Dean Cowie — Rev. A. B.
Evans .
CHAPTER II
St Paul's Choir — Introduction to Wagner — Engagement
— An Unpublished Nelson Letter — Off to Ceylon —
Tragic Death of my Frock-coat — Insect Life —
Friends in Ceylon — King George as a Middy — Trials
and Troubles — Failure of Coffee .... 21-40
CHAPTER III
More Ceylon days — Gemming — ^The Rock Veddah — My
Rogue Elephant — An Elephant Kraal — A Dangerous
Accident — We leave Ceylon 41-50
CHAPTER IV
Woman and Donkey harnessed together in Malta — Search
for Work-^Some Good Friends — At the Academy of
Music — " How to Sing " — A Fiasco — Hamilton Aid6
— ^The Gold Brick 5 1-^3
CHAPTER V
Miss Caroline Holland — A Remarkable Character — Her
Choir — Penny Bank — " All Sorts and Conditions of
Men " — ^The People's Palace — Opening by Queen
Victoria— The EmpreM Frederick's Adventur* 64-7*
vi CONTENTS
CHAPTER VI
PAGE
The Lyric Club — Entertainments — The Lyric Cricket
Club — Whist — Sandow — Sabbatarianism — Lord Selby
— Collapse of the Lyric Club 73-93
CHAPTER Vn
Critics — Oscar Wilde — H. M. Stanley — Self-made Men —
Travellers — Cecil Rhodes — Lord Coleridge and the
Jury — Sir George Lewis — Ping-Pong — Lord Russell . 94-106
CHAPTER VIII
Clubs and Club Stories— Some Things Theatrical-
Sir Charles Wyndham — Sir Herbert Tree — Irving
— Manageritis — John HoUingshead — Bernhardt —
" Trilby " 107-124
CHAPTER IX
With Tree — Command Performance at Balmoral — Record
Rush to Dublin — On Managing — Lord Beaconsfield's
Tips — Buffalo Bill — Lyric Theatre — With Wyndham 125-143
CHAPTER X
The Animals Hospital — Vivisection — F. W. H. Myers —
Maeterlinck — Sir John Astley — Stepniak — Goring
Thomas — Pellegrini — Browning — Beardsley — Sir
Henry Thomson — Henry Arthur Jones — Ouida — Zola 144-161
CHAPTER XI
Portraits — Sculpture — Miniatures — Whistler — Yates —
Moore— Theatrical Reflections- Hermann Vezin— The
Censorship— J. M. Barrie 162-184
CHAPTER XII
Actresses and the Peerage — Woman's Genius not recc^-
nised in Honour's Lists — Love and Convention —
Marriage — The Woman Movement .... 185-104
CONTENTS vii
CHAPTER XIII
PAGE
Sporting Friends — ^King of Siam as Leading Lady —
Guthrie's "Hamlet" Story— Stray Stories— " The
Junior Turf Club "—Shaw's Velvet Suit— Fashions
in Dancing — Acclamation in Church — ^The National
Anthem — Barnum and the Duke of Edinburgh — Sir
Morell Mackenzie's Poem 195-214
CHAPTER XIV
The Green Park Club — Performing Fleas — City Churches
— Club Management — Five Hundred Concerts and
Plays 215-234
CHAPTER XV
Royal Waterloo Hospital for Children — The Christmas-
card Cot — Queen Alexandra and the Waif — The
Coming of the Smart Set — Some Service Friends —
The French Circus — Some Miscellaneous Anecdotes
— An Unrepealed Act of Parliament .... 235-250
CHAPTER XVI
Copyright in Letters — The Shakespeare Memorial — Who
was Shakespeare? 251-255
CHAPTER XVII
My Swan Song — ^The Manor House Club — Egomania —
The Joys of a Recluse — Goose Green — Animals — My
Farewell — Much Adieu about Nothing " . . . 256-260
Index 265-272
ILLUSTRATIONS
Luther Munday (by Lafayette) .... Frontispiece
Lines by the Duke of Argyll, K.G., P.C, K.T.,
K.C.M.G., G.C.V.O facing page ii
Autographs from photographs graciously given me
by Victoria R. and L; H.R.H. the Duke of
Edinburgh; H.R.H. Princess Christian;
H.R.H. George Duke of Cambridge; H.S.H.
Prince Alexander George of Teck ... ,, 8
Cecil Cutler's portrait of Mrs Munday with letter
from Count D'Orsay to her grandfather . ,, i6
Sir George Collier, Admiral of the Fleet and Com-
mander-in-Chief for Great Britain during the
American Revolutionju-y War .... ,,24
Sir Francis Collier, K.C.B., K.H., K.L.S., Naval
A.D.C. to Queen Victoria, Admiral Superin-
tendent of Woolwich Dockyard, and Commis-
sioner at Greenwich „ 24
Sir George Collier's victory in Penobscot Bay,
1779, from naval chronicles .... ,,38
Disembarkation of troops, Gravesend, 1779, from
naval chronicles „ 28
One of fourteen unpublished letters from Lord
Nelson to first Lady Collier .... >j 32
Brief chronicles of "Bob and me"; W. B.
Maxwell; Sir F. C. Burnand; Lord Avebury;
Arthur Goring Thomas; Hall Caine; Labou-
chfere ; George Grossmith, Senr. ; Maude Valerie
White; Press picture of Archdeacon of
London; H.S.H. Prince Alexander of Teck;
and L. M „ 76
ix
ILLUSTRATIONS
Brief chronicles of The Duke of Rutland; Sir
Gharles Wyndham; Brigr.-General Count
Gleichen; Marie Corelli; Miss Braddon; Mr
Speaker Gully; Adelina Patti; Sir Arthur W.
Pinero; General Sir Bindon Blood, G.C.B. ;
Madge Kendal (Mrs W. H. Grimston) . . facing page gz
Unpublished poem by Oscar Wilde to L. M., 1891
Chalk drawing of H.M. the Kaiser by L. M.
Chalk drawing of Mr Joseph Chamberlain by L. M.
Beauty's Eyes by Sir Poalo Tosti to L. M. .
Photograph of elephants taken during elephant
kraal, Ceylon, 1882
Letter frcMii Sir Herbert Tree, 1908, to L. M.
Brief chronicles of Mr George du Maurier ; Ruskin ;
Sir Joseph Barnby; Earl Roberts, K.G., K.P.,
P.C, G.C.B., G.C.S.I., G.C.I.E., O.M., V.C,
D.C.L., D.Lit., LL.D. ; Ellen Terry; Eugene
Sandow, 1889
Letter from Robert Browning to L. M.
Brief chronicles of Justin H. M'Carthy; Garter,
King of Arms ; W. H. Mallock ; Oxford Univer-
sity Boating Club; Rudyard Kipling
Drawing by Phil May for L. M., 1894 .
Chalk drawing of Winston Churchill by L. M.
Drawing by Jan van Beers for L. M. .
Souvenir of Paderewski to L. M. .
Sculpture, Archbishop Matthew, by L. M. .
Picture by Mortimer Menpes for L. M.
Brief chronicles of 8th Duke of Beaufort ; William
Terriss; Sir H. M. Stanley, G.C.B. ; Maurice
Maeterlinck; Edward Fairfield, C.B. ; Sir John
Millais, Bart. ; Gladstone ....
98
102
102
114
132
132
•
>3
152
r
))
IS4
r-
3>
156
)>
162
if
162
33
164
1>
>>
164
166
33
170
184
ILLUSTRATIONS xi
Mascagni to L. M facing page 302
Melba to L. M ,,302
L. M. by Hermann Herkomer „ 206
L. M. by Max Beerbohm ,, 206
Phil May for L. M „ 214
Brief chronicles of Sir Arthur Sullivan ; Phil May ;
Hope Temple; Thomas Hardy, O.M. ; Harry
Fumess; Lord Kitchener, K.P., K.C.B.,
O.M., G.C.M.G., G.C.S.I., G.C.I.E., EL.D.,
D.C.L., etc. . „ 228
Souvenirs and dedications — Sir Henry Irving; Sir
Arthur Sullivan, 1893; Lawrence Kellie; Sir
John Stainer, i888 » 232
Victoria R. and L, gift to Luther Munday . . „ 260
Two hundred autographs of professional friends
(singers and actors) collected from letters . „ 262
A CHRONICLE OF
FRIENDSHIPS
CHAPTER I
Anthony Munday and Shakespeare — In a London Office — Sea Days
as Naval Volunteer — The Fire Brigade — River Police — Lon-
don in the Seventies — My Hundred Churches — Music Halls
— Dean Cowie — Rev. A. B. Evans.
One Anthony Munday, a roystering companion of
Shakespeare's who, according to recent revelations,
appeared with him at the Police Court, wrote three
books and some plays between 1570 and 1610. He
had a brother a monk, and they both settled in
Cornwall in 1 540, coming from Calvados in Brittany.
In 1 599 he wrote a book which was at first published
with the name " William Shakespeare " on the title
page, but the ascription to Shakespeare was promptly
withdrawn !
This is all I can discover, even with the aid of
two friends at the College of Heralds, as to the
origin of my name and family ; as the last visitation
in Cornwall was in 1620 and my forebears for four
generations, which is as far back as I can trace
them, descended in single Hne ; so that at my death
the race becomes extinct, I having no brother nor
X A
2 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
ajay male relation living who bears the name of
Munday.
Mr Baring Gould, in his history of family names,
says that Munday in common with all names that
denote days and seasons or places, probably was
given to foundlings. Whether or not this was my
source I know not, but I certainly cannot trace any
marked distinction in the lives or attainments of my
ancestors.
I shall refer in these pages to a book of " The
Chronicles of the Times," because therein I find
many quaint things. It is a sort of " Whittaker,"
written by this Anthony Munday about 340 years
ago ; but it has no claim to literary merit. These,
my chronicles of friendship, are written for my own
amusement, and dedicated without permission, and
certainly without malice, to my friends.
My father followed the laborious, dull, and ill-
requited profession of a schoolmaster, but worked
hard between times, often reading half the night, to
prepare himself as a competent crammer, and some
of his pupils have attained distinction. We were
dreadfully poor, for there were three sisters and my
brother (who died) to provide for. Chill penury
froze the genial current of my father's soul, but
nothing affected the spirit of my mother, and she
endowed me with her own happy temperament, so
I was born with a wealth that, looking back upon,
I can appreciate far more than aught else that the
composition of the ages might have bestowed.
I was born in Widcombe, Somersetshire, and
donned my birthday clothes on loth March, 1857.
We lived close to Bath, where Bladud is said to
have been heir apparent to the ancient British king
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 3
Lud Ludibras 800 years before Christ. Where for
2800 years a half a million gallons of water at 120'
F. have been yielded each day. Where history
and gossip intermingled and came down to us through
Pope, Ralph Allan, Wood the elder and Wood the
younger, Catharine Morland, General Tilney, Miss
Elliot, Captain Wentworth, John Hales, Sydney
Smith, De Quincey, Elizabeth Linley, Sheridan,
• and Beau Nash, and a hundred others that have
Knked the past with the present. At all events I
am proud of Bath, howsoever humble may have
been my early association with the beautiful city of
history and tradition.
My earliest experience was reading the Bible to
Mr (since Sir Isaac) Pitman in 1868. He had given
up teaching and was the inventor of stenography,
and was publishing the Bible in shorthand. To-day
his name is hewn out of the very ore of commercial
progress, for it is unthinkable how the world would
go on to-day without shorthand.
Working seventeen hours a day in a dingy loft
over a stable, he was content to make a mere pittance
so that he could pioneer this cause of progress, but
to me the reading for hours on end (and reading the
stops as well) was a sore trial. I read to him for one
year, but thirty years afterwards the hateful, sub-
conscious habit of reading the stops came back to me
whilst reading the lessons at Lyndhurst Church.
To my horror I heard myself declaim : " Here
beginneth the first chapter of the Book of Kings,
comma," and then continue: " In the seventh year
of Jehu, Joas began to reign, colon."
In those early days, through the kindness of my
uncle, Mr Walter Slater, whose father was a director
4 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
of the Fore Street Company when Charles Morrison
turned it into a limited company, I was provided with
an office stool, and worked there in 1872 as a clerk.
I nearly became Charles Morrison's secretary, and
learned a lot of useful commercial technique, which
has been of help to me in unlooked-for ways all
my life.
My Uncle Slater was the first real friend I had,
and I think of him with grateful affection for all his
kindness. Hating restraint, rule, and detail, how-
ever, I soon threw up office work and went before
the mast: that is to say, I asked and obtained con-
sent of the Admiralty to serve as a gunner for two
cruises on board H.M. gunboat Slaney and
H.M. gunboat Goshawk, having first qualified as
" efficient " and " trained man " on board The
President, then lying at the London Docks. I Have
forgotten most I learned then; but what I shall
always remember is the delightful sensation of having
once been captain of a gun's crew, firing two rounds
of shrapnel and a round of case shot at sea, and
rough sea too, with sea-sickness my tyrl^it. This
was the procedure. With the gunboat at full steam
ahead, a floating flag fixed to cross beams was slung
overboard, and allowed to drift about a thousand
yards. An officer on the bridge estimated the dis-
tance by means of rifle shot and powerful glasses.
He signalled this to the gun's captain below deck.
All was silence; the seven-inch, six-and-a-half ton
gun, cast loose, loaded and sighted by hand signal-
ling. The attempt to take sight in a rough sea, with
the ship pitching and tossing, and to pull the lanyard
at the right particle of a second, is highly exciting.
Bang goes the gun with a hideous noise jind quick
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 6
recoil; after rapid reloading, again we fire at a
distance newly signalled from the bridge. Such
was my experience on a man-of-war in 1877 and
1878.
More than thirty years have passed since this
seven-inch, six-and-a-half ton gun seemed to me a
terrible nerve test. It pretty well shook me to pieces ;
how then must it be with the guns of to-day's calibre ?
I cannot think of anything more grand and awful than
the nerve strain in firing a gun at sea. There is in
gunnery exercise a test instrument which registers
what is called, I think, the least personal error, mean-
ing the least possible lapse of time between thought
and action. In firing at sea a particle of a second
makes an enormous difference in the trajection of a
projectile. I fired three and gave quite a good scoring
account of myself. Within a year, however, I had
a curious experience : my brain failed to act smartly
enough to save a life. I was absorbed in reading in
the corner seat on the underground railway when a
man jumped in as the train was moving. He slipped
and fell between the platform and the train. During
the re-switching of my thought from the book to the
man there could not have elapsed two seconds, but
though my hand was on him it refused to close in
time. He was killed. This was the lapse of time
between thought and action often put to a moderate
test in crises common to motoring, and acutely in
flying, of course.
I was stroke of the gig on the Goshawk,
whose captain's name was Bagge, and I thought
him disagreeable. I don't know that I did much
wrong, but he degraded me to the rank of cook's
mate for insubordination. I paid him back, and
6 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
had the pleasure of seeing him gulp down, and up,
a cup of cocoa I made for him with salt water.
My insubordination consisted of keeping the
captain's gig at Dover four hours longer than shore
leave. I met some pals there. Everything, how-
ever, is childishly joyous at eighteen, and the miseries
were compensated by the enthusiasm of youth, the
independence of everything, and the kindness of my
old friend, chief petty officer Billy Burgin, who
smoothed the way for me through many troubles.
He trained me to race against another ship's crew
for three miles. It was a tight struggle, sixteen-foot
oars bending to an angle of forty-five degrees, and
the back of one's head each stroke touching the thwart
behind. I was the lightest man in the boat, but I
was stroke, and our boat won.
An intense dislike to the sea, which never lessened
by experience, rendered it impossible for me to learn
sailing or the art of navigation, though I have
manned a yard-arm in half a gale. At gunnery, how-
ever, in spite of the horrors of life in the forecastle
and work below deck, I succeeded fairly well. I
won a leading gunner's badge, and acted as second-
class petty officer.
After these cruises (I had not taken the capitation
grant nor sworn allegiance) I went back to London
and joined the fire brigade as a volunteer. Captain
Shaw allowed me to serve under him, and once I
drove a fire engine standing alongside him to a fire.
As chief superintendent he wore a silver helmet.
Ours were brass.
I thought it wildly delightful to scream Hi ! Hi ! as
we turned corners. One day smack went the whole
concern, one of the horses having slipped upon the
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS X
greasy asphalt. Away went the lot of us headlong,
sliding in all directions. I came in contact with a
hansom cab which was coming towards us, and
was promptly run over across the chest. I know it
sounds like a traveller's story, but the cab was going
so fast that it passed over me very rapidly indeed.
Although I searched in a scared way for broken
hmbs and ribs, I was not hurt.
Keeping the crowd back, holding the horses, and
fixing the hose were the only parts I was permitted to
play during the whole time, although I attended some
thirty fires. Years after I met Sir Eyre Shaw fre-
quently. He combined the hero and the dandy. I
had a perfect passion for these privileged attachments,
free from restraint, and enjoyed service without pay,
since the receipt of pay stops one's independence.
I lived on a barge near Waterloo Bridge, close
to the Thames Police Floating Station and Royal
Humane Society's Pier. Waterloo was known as the
" Bridge of Sighs " in consequence of the number of
suicides. It was then a toll bridge, ill lighted and
lonely. In one year Burgin and I picked up from
the river twenty-three bodies living or dead. Such
sights tinge one's mind with a lasting hue, and it is
not good to pursue the things that are sad. I bow
to this reflection and pass on.
It was a great excitement for our dinghy which
raced the police and the Humanes to get first to the
rescue. Generally in the darkest hours and the
coldest nights, when human hearts were at low ebb,
poor creatures, mostly women of course, jumped
from the buttresses on the bridge. A splash, a
scream, then silence which robbed us of all chance
of finding the body in time to restore life. It was very
8 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
sobering, this experience ; often we inwardly hoped
that the process of restoring might not succeed, be-
cause of the very blankness of to-morrow's outlook.
I got tired of the brigade and joined the Thames
Police ; it was all night work, the inspector was very
nice, and I found my services accepted in a friendly
way. On many a cold, wet night I fell in with the
regulars at twelve o'clock. (I could only work at
night just then, having to earn a little by day to
supply food and clothes.) Strict silence, and an air
of mystery were the rule ; we never knew the why nor
wherefore. " From information received " was all
the inspector deigned to say; so under the shadows
of bridge arches, or alongside barges we stopped,
after long spells of rowing and silent feathering, to
listen sometimes for hours. Down river various craft
went silently by when even the slightest colliding
bump was noted, for there was generally some
mystery to unravel, perhaps a crime, though we were
never informed. Once, when silently rowing along-
side some foreign craft, the inspector listened at a
port-hole, and after a time whispered some unin-
telligible jargon. Immediately came an answer from
on board, at which signal two hands appeared with
bundles of cigars. Then at a word I changed places
with the inspector, and he, with two of the crew,
crawled up a davit, arrested his men, and took pos-
session of a small cargo of smuggled tobacco. This
particular information was received two nights pre-
viously, and I blindly was a party to the trap. The
inspector told me to wear my usual down-at-heel rags
in which I loved to tramp the streets at night, and to
follow him, but not to speak a word, only to appear
sleepily drunk. I noticed he had donned a similar
r^./jf /^-^
AUTOGRAPHS FROM PHOTOGRAPHS GRACIOUSLY GIVEN BY
Victoria R. and I. H.R.H. George, Duke of Cambridge.
H.R.H. the Duke of Edinburgh. H.S.H. Prince Alexander George of Teck.
H.R.H. Princess Christian.
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 9
costume, and we both had our feet bare. The ebb-
tide was just on the turn, and there was some mud to
wade through before coming to rickety steps along-
side the river near Ratcliffe, where a few httle taverns
are still to be found. We entered one of these and
ordered beer, and after smoking short clay pipes, he
affected sleep and I read, or kept my head behind a
newspaper. Soon there entered, amongst many,
two men whom the inspector singled out for his
special attention. They talked together till closing
time, but in an hour he had identified, " from in-
formation received," two smugglers, the same whom
he so skilfully arrested two nights later, probably
through the timely help of other police working on
the day watch. If the inspector reads these memoirs
he may recognise his erstwhile guest of the guard-
room, where he often gave me a shake-down and
went off watch. One night he left me locked in
asleep, for it was too late to get aboard my barge,
and the dinghy was not at the pier. The dead body
of a woman faced me on awakening in the morning ;
the new watch not knowing I was there had placed
her near-by to await an inquest. She was young and
beautiful, and wore jewellery and fine linen, but was
never identified, and so closed, unsolved, another
mystery of the Thames, another splash into the mid-
night of despair.
In taking part in these gruesome pursuits I
followed a certain, perhaps morbid desire, to know
the seamy side of Hfe ; especially did I long to probe
to its depths the mystery of London, that wonderful
city which shows so many phases, often of the
beautiful, as these pages will tell, if memory will
only help me.
10 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
Through my dear old friends the Chretiens, I
came to know and love the Rev. Benjamin Morgan
Cowie, afterwards Dean of Manchester and Exeter,
through whom I gained the privilege of singing in
the choir of St Paul's Cathedral, unattached, as a
volunteer. There I met Canon Liddon (of whom
later), and was treated most kindly by the new
organist Mr (afterwards Sir John) Stainer. These
influences marked a change as they rapidly entered
my life, morbidity gave place to cheerier thoughts;
the varied experiences of life have an entirely
wholesome effect on the mind, and reflex on the body.
All the intricate and complex rebus, so faintly
described as human life, seems only part of one
whole, intermingled, but never separate from one
eternal mystery. It seemed to me that no Priest or
Poet, Actor or Painter, could really succeed, unless
in addition to academic technique he knew the world
by experience.
" Thanks to the Human hearts by which we live,
Thanks to its tenderness, its hopes and fears;
To me, the meanest flower that blows can give
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears,"
I don't think I ever gained anything by book
learning. I never really went to school, and cer-
tainly failed to pass any sort of examination. The
world was and is my home, my love, and she was
and still is my only schoolmistress, indulgent and
forgiving. She gave me all the holidays I wanted.
I record a few.
" Kick off at 11.45 P-ni." was the invitation to a
few congenials, who arrived at the Argyll Rooms
to celebrate its closing night in 1876. A really
merry evening, it seems hke yesterday. We smug-
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 11
gled in a football, and sharp up to time I kicked
off from the gallery; the ball caught the enormous
chandelier, which swayed violently, the officials
promptly turned the gas off at the main. Then what
a flood of unpremeditated art the human larks
poured forth, there must have been a thousand in
the hall. A cordon of police encircled the premises
outside. I had the football, so they singled me out for
special attention at Vine Street, a charming offshoot
of Piccadilly, and I was promptly fined. Years
later I was frequently in consultation with the
superintendent of Vine Street on matters of com-
mon interest, but upon this occasion they did not
consult me.
I remember too the " Judge and Jury " in
Leicester Square, where mock court was held
nightly. I am none too proud to admit having once
served on the Jury. The Judge was a man who
styled himself Baron Nicholson. He had a tale to
his name, so he gave it a handle to balance it. His
summing up was of this order of wit or worse :
" Please Sir, can you tell me the way to the
Judge and Jury.-* "
" Yes, my boy, go on as you're going, you'll soon
find them."
Milder but historical was chess at Simpson's ; a
shilling a game commanded the best players in the
world. I learned to play there, with cosmopolitan
hangers on.
I bought food at Hungerford Market, where on
Sundays feasters on periwinkles and shrimps prom-
enaded in the Arcade. Free pins were provided
for the winkles. It reminded one of the Church
Parade of later years in Hyde Park, but instead of
12 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
drifting into luncheon at our clubs, we took gauffers
at Gatti's, two a penny, made of flour and water
pressed between hot irons. The Gattis were then
ice-cream vendors. Then they hired a railway arch
under Charing Cross Station, and opened quite a
swagger music hall and restaurant. There I re-
member being introduced to two ladies who danced
and sang with great efficiency, and in later life filled
distinguished positions in high life with equal
facility. I felt myself rather a swell playing
billiards with Mr Carlo Gatti, who was so stout that
he had to play every single stroke with the aid of the
rest. These were the budding days of three others
of the finest commissariat officers since Moses:
namely Benoist, Lyons and Lipton, not to mention
Gen. Sir Edward Ward.
At the picture gallery a band played every night
next to where I lived. I had become mighty solici-
tous about my sleep. I missed the restfulness of
the barge, like the tramp on the embankment who
complained of the Savoy orchestra keeping him
awake at night.
Lyons (now Sir Joseph) would have made my
fortune for me if I had had a little money to invest.
In those days Charhe J and I used to lunch with
him in Soho, and wonder at the plans that this giant
caterer was maturing.
Continuing about the year 1876, " Snapdragon "
was the pass word at a gaming-house in Panton
Street, and we had to whisper it outside iron bars,
and pass through another iron barrier before we
could get completely inside ; then the doors were
closed behind, formidable sentries seemed every-
where, the floor was littered with cards. This was
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 13
a gambling hell, which employed decoys, but I
cannot write all there is to tell about this.
Evans' was a dull place; quartettes and respec-
tability with shades of Paddy Green, but it had its
moments.
One night at a fancy-dress ball Labouchfere
claimed admission. He was dressed in the uniform
of the Diplomatic Corps. His progress was roughly
arrested by a policeman, who rudely alluded to his
dress as not nearly fanciful enough for a fancy-dress
ball.
" How dare you ! give me your name and number
at once."
" My number is on my collar, and my name is
Lionel Brough," said Lai, who was of course
masquerading as a poHceman. (Poor Lai, old
friend, has passed on since I commenced these
memoirs.)
In 1877 I backed myself to swim across the
Thames at any point above Greenwich in my
clothes, and won; also to swim a mile without
clothes, and I won that. That year I visited more
than a hundred churches in Somersetshire, Wiltshire,
and Gloucestershire, walking no end of miles in
company with a friend, to collect the inscriptions
from four hundred church bells. My friend pub-
lished a book on the subject.
One word more about Cremorne Gardens.
Queues of carriages extending for more than a mile
were quite the fashion in those days. I was present
on the closing night. It was a great scene, but the
ambition of my life reached its apex when I took the
chair for five minutes at the Pavilion Music Hall.
In the orthodox manner, with a little hammer in one
14 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
hand and a cigar in the other, I announced the
encore.
" Mile Fiasco will reappear again if you please."
Then I stood drinks all round to red-nosed men,
seated at my table, some of whom were addressed as
" my lord," it being the vogue then, at music halls,
to scratch acquaintanceship with lords. In some of
the leading music halls the public and the artistes
were on the most friendly terms, exchanging smiles
and signs, and access was easily obtained to the
wings, without special favour, or even a pass ; and
after the performance, one could go behind and chat
with the artistes who wore very classical attire, but
all these laxities are as dead as a door nail to-day.
One may still " mix with the sharpers without
getting sharp and with the immoral without getting
moral " and see iridescent scum on foul water ; but
much has disappeared with the old order, including
the typical music hall manager, with a diamond stud
and a circus-master manner. A totally different type
of man, whose all-round capability would qualify him
as a Dean or a Doctor, a Bishop or a Stockbroker,
manages music halls to-day. The modern manager
could not entirely fail in any class of work. Moss,
StoU, Butt, Moul, Slater and others are good
enough sponsors. They worked these wonderful
changes socially and artistically.
Then there were the fast clubs whose leaders, men
of ancient lineage, were supposed to give the neces-
sary impetus to success. The aristocracy of the
demi-monde were then known by name and fame,
and they used the theatre or music hall as the spring
board of their triumphs. I can recall many whose
names are known to-day, but whose graves are not
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 15
They were bitten skin deep with the theatrical and
music hall tarantula, they cherished the hope of
becoming legitimate actresses or singers. Art and
Charity Concerts, and Bazaars helped them socially,
and often led to marriage with either a fellow-actor
or a peer. Then came a short life of middle class
respectability or dreadful gilded splendour, a crash,
or slavery to some passion due to the burning lava
in their veins, then ... I know all this is outwardly
different now; tim.es change, and the habits of men
change, and the dull monotony of so-called fast life
changes too, but only in outward semblance from
the days and ways of long ago.
Between three and four in the morning in the
dinghy I would scull about the Thames and feel the
mysterious charm of London at dawn, the unearthly
calm that precedes the awakening. Or I would walk
about queer quiet streets, transformed from the
dusty din of day to the surprisingly clear air when
the dust had had time to settle. Miserable night
wanderers crept into corners to sleep waiting until
the rubbish-bins were ready to pick. Then the sun
rose ushering in the day, bathing the great buildings
till they seemed framed in coloured mist, and the
noise of the great world of London began again to
resolve its myriad sounds into one single note, as
many little thoughts in a large mind frame themselves
into one principle.
I needed Httle sleep and turned night into day, and
loved always the impossible and strove for things I
could not get, feeling my inferiority through lack of
education. The world had shown me things, but
what could I realise alone in London at seventeen
with nothing definite to do. Even before these days,
16 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
on my tenth birthday, I think, I began my London.
Someone took me to Astley's. I went behind the
scenes and spoke to Adah Menkins and saw her as
Mazeppa strapped to a well-trained wild horse, in no-
thing but the flimsiest tights. The horse immediately
bolted away through fire and water and carried with
it this most beautiful woman. It was the sensation
of the year, certainly of my year, for in 1867 I first
knew love of form, a greater joy to me than love of
colour, and I am deeply grateful to Miss Menkins
for awakening or creating this dormant sense. With
a quaint and devotional reverence I read all I could
about her for years. She was more than a circus
rider, but if some readers have never heard her name
they will have heard of Dickens and of Rothschild,
and of Swinburne. Dickens accepted the dedication
of her first book and liked it uncommonly. Roths-
child called her " the inspired Deborah of her race,"
for she it was who in a letter to the New York
Churchman raised the protest against the exclusion
of Jews from the British Parliament. But there were
more sides to her character. Adah Menkins inspired
Swinburne's unsurpassed song, his immortal
" Dolores " lyric " Our lady of pain " (the first Hne
having reference to Adah's seven matrimonial trials).
" Seven Sorrows the Priests gave their virgin.
But thy sins which are seventy times seven,
Seven ages would fail thee to purge in
And then they would haunt thee in heaven
O mystical rose of the mire
O house not of gold but of gain
O splendid and sterile Dolores,
Our lady of pain."
One of these " seven sorrows " was Heenem, who
fought Tom Sayers at Whiligh in Kent. W. F.
y
K
O
Z;
D
O
U
O
a.
K
W
K
H
<;
Q
z
<
K
O
K
W
K
/
X
O
(^
K
H
O
0-
►4
5
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 17
Courthope told me twenty years later about the
affair, how the elder Courthope protested, how they
blindfolded him and stood him with his back to the
fight, and so on. All the actors are dead now.
Swinburne was the last, and what of Adah Menkins ?
She chose two proudly simple words to mark her
grave in Paris : " Thou knowest."
I remember Dean Cowie, then Rector of St
Lawrence, Jewry, telling me a grim story. Travelling
in his early manhood from one house to another,
across a lonely moor, in consequence of frost and
snow he was bound to break his journey and stay
a night where best he could; asking shelter at a
lonely cottage, a girl of beauty and charm opened
the door. Her mother took him in, cooked some
eggs and bacon, gave him their best room, and
bade him good night. Curiosity prompted the Dean
to look about and examine the furniture before going
to bed. There was a large oak trunk, which he
found full of salt. Wondering what it could mean,
he scratched the salt aside, and there was revealed
the face of a dead man.
Numb and dumb, through the long, lonely hours
of the night, he wondered what was the right thing
to do, and decided to wait for the dawn. Then he
slowly came downstairs, haggard and worn. He
looked for the child, and found her performing her
morning duties. He held the candles close to her
face and looked into her eyes; they wore an ex-
pression of pure truth and innocence, and looking
in his she said quite frankly : " So you've seen
grandfather ; the frost was too hard to dig his grave ;
we are waiting for the thaw to. come, and then we
shall bury him in the churchyard."
a
18 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
Deeply impressed in my memory is another friend,
the Rev. A. B. Evans. He Hved in the upper floor
of a slum off the Strand. Originally a Welsh dis-
senting minister, he came into the English Church
and became Rector of St Mary-le-Strand. Subse-
quently, through the Bishop of London, he received
the degree of Doctor of Divinity. He was four feet
eight inches high, and carried his tongue outside
his mouth without seeming ludicrous. His stoop-
ing posture gave him the impression of being a
little hump-backed. His wonderful sermons were
preached to empty pews. I remember a congrega-
tion of five, one of whom was Mr Gladstone, another
Lord Salisbury. It impressed me strangely to see
a man, so little known and so frail in body, capable
of drawing together and attracting these giant minds
of the Victorian era, whose many differences in
thought were as one under the spell of my little
friend's personahty. Gladstone and Sahsbury were
often there. They always bowed to each other, quite
ceremoniously, but I never remember seeing them
walk away together. Dr Evans became my intimate
friend, and when, one night after our simple meal,
I found he had never entered a theatre in his life,
I told him that as theatres paid Church tithes, he had
better try one. He accepted my invitation, and we
went to the Adelphi. Will Terriss and Jessie Mil-
ward were then at their height in the old Adelphi
days. Tears ran down the little man's cheeks. His
simple nature seemed jealous of this power and
influence on the^tage. He never made comment nor
wished me good night, simply saying when we
parted, " I have wasted sixty-five years." Here is
a poem by an unknown author. He read it from
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 19
the pulpit in fine voice and with such old-world dig-
nity. I can see now this little Welsh dissenter who
had lived off the Strand, but was never of the world ;
see Gladstone also, with his eagle eye and his hand
to his ear, his lips silently moving, as he followed
the reading of these words : —
" I sat alone with my conscience,
In a place where time had ceased,
And we talked of a former living
In the land where the land increased.
And I felt I should have to answer
The question if put to me,
And to face the answer and question
Throughout an eternity.
The ghosts of forgotten actions
Came floating before my sight.
And things that I thought were dead things
Were alive with a terrible might.
And the vision of all my past life
Was an awful thing to face.
Alone with my conscience sitting
In that solemnly silent place.
And I thought of a far-off warning
Of a sorrow that was to be mine,
In a land that then was the future,
But now is the present time.
And I thought of my former thinking
Of the Judgment Day to be.
But sitting alone with my conscience
Seemed judgment enough for me.
And I wondered if there was a future,
To this land beyond the grave;
But no one gave me an answer
And no one came to save.
Then I felt that the future was present.
And the present would never go by.
For it was but the thought of my past life
Gone into Eternity.
20 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
Then I woke from my timely warning,
And the vision passed away.
And I knew that the far-off warning
Was a warning of yesterday.
And I pray that I may not forget it,
In this land before the grave.
That I may not cry in the future,
And no one come to save.
And so I have learned my lesson,
Which I ought to have known before,
And which though I learnt it dreaming,
I hope to forget no more.
And I know of the future judgment,
How dreadful soever it be,
That to sit alone with my conscience,
Will be judgment enough for me."
Dr Evans died in 1878. I was only twenty-one
then, but I am glad that these memories vividly
belong to me to-day. If you will go to St Mary-le-
Strand, you can read this memorial on the South
Wall:—
" To the glory of God, and in memory of Alfred
Bowen Evans, D.D., Priest, for seventeen years
Rector of the Parish of St Mary-le-Strand, who,
with quaint sallies of native genius, adorned the
graver studies of the Divine, and the fervid eloquence
of a thoughtful preacher. Having greatly beautified
the House of the Lord, that he might the more
hallow the Lord of the House, fell asleep in Christ
Jesus, Whom he devotedly loved, followed, served,
and preached, on the sixth of November, 1878."
CHAPTER II
St Paul's Choir — Introduction to Wagner — Engagement — An
Unpublished Nelson Letter — Off to Ceylon — Tragic Death
of my Frock-coat — Insect Life — Friends in Ceylon — ^King
George as a Middy — Trials and Troubles — Failure of Coffee.
Hovering between St Paul's Cathedral, with its
quiet, reflective delight, and studying life in East
London, sometimes bare-footed, I varied my exist-
ence for two years. I was rather a prig, the incurable
disease of boyhood. His joyous instinct for sport
and games, alas, I lacked! I preferred churches
and reflection. I can just remember before Stainer's
time the slovenly way the service was conducted.
Youth is critical, and enthusiasm is its best instructor.
The Vicars' choral had a sort of freehold at St Paul's,
and they enjoyed it. The then Vicars' choral, I
remember, were Mr Fred Walker * and Mr Winn
(father of Ethel Winn, of charming voice and
presence) who told me he remembered the Halle-
lujah Chorus being sung by one man and ten boys.
Years after, I introduced Sir John Stainer to " Spy,"
of Vanity Fair. Stainer went through a coy pre-
tence of shyness, but I was aware even then that
* Mr V^'alker became headmaster of St Paul's School, and tells
of a lady who inquired anxiously for her son as to the social
position of the boys, to which he replied that so long as her son's
fees were paid, and her boy behaved himself, no questions would be
asked about his antecedents.
21
22 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
there are really few who dislike being caricatured, and
fewer still who do not affect coyness at the suggestion.
" What rage for fame attends both great and small
Better be d d, than mentioned not at all."
Sir John owed something to Sir Frederick Gore
Ouseley, at one of whose lectures I sang solos to
illustrate his subject. I also broke down from shy-
ness and walked away blubbing. He (Stainer) was
sanguine, cheerful, straightforward, always seeking
the highest level in his art. He died full of honours
in 1 901.
In 1875 small troubles arose. I opened the door
too soon of a railway carriage, which shattered the
whole side of the carriage to bits. There was a big
scene. Passengers became hysterical. The Com-
pany sent me a solicitor's letter to Fore Street, claim-
ing damages. I acted as my own solicitor and wrote
this reply : " You have no right to build railway
carriages that won't open in tunnels. Please rebuild
either the trains or the tunnels for the safety of the
pubHc." That was the end of it. About then I was
nearly drowned in the Thames, as once again, many
years later, off Mount Lavinia, Ceylon. The sensa-
tion in both cases was quite delightful: visions
crossed the mind in a flash, seemingly covering inci-
dents of many years accumulation. Except for the
agony of coming round, there was no physical pain.
The same year Joseph Barnby introduced me to
Richard Wagner at the Albert Hall, where I had
heard between fitful slumbers all his works conducted
by the great man himself. So far as I remember,
it took about five afternoons. Wagner shook me by
the hand absent-mindedly, looking beyond. I could
see, even through the light of hero worship, that
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 23
Wagner was not great enough (who ever was?) to
be indifferent to flattery and adoration, nor was he
surfeited with the appreciation of an elect few. He
was a ferocious egoist before whom ordinary mortals
seemed spiritless. During this never-to-be-forgotten
episode, a very large German lady seized him by the
throat and kissed him artistically in the presence of
the whole audience. The music I was too young,
too stupid to understand — only the artistic kiss. I
put in here Ruskin's opinion of Wagner from my
friend, E. T. Cook's charming book:
" Of all the bete, clumsy, blundering, boggling,
baboon-blooded stuff I ever saw on a human stage,
that thing last night {JPhe Meister singer) beat — as
far as the story and the acting went; and of all the
affected, sapless, soulless, beginningless, endless,
topless, bottomless, topsiturviest, tuneless, scrannel-
pipiest, tongs and boniest doggrel of sounds I ever
endured the deadliness of, that eternity of nothing
was the deadliest, as far as the sound went."
All this was during the impressionable age, when
those who have listened to the great can never
again be quite as if they had not. The gaze into
the starry heights makes us feel our little breed, as
when a fool casts a slur upon the ancestors he de-
grades, and then tries to preen himself with pride of
descent. It is easy to think big things if you begin
young; so difficult to believe anything when you
start old. I never was a rash disbeliever, and the
influence of Dean Cowie at St Lawrence, Jewry, and
St Paul's Cathedral, of Dean Church, and Canon
Liddon had made Christianity seem Christ-like. I
risk a little in the effort to repeat, from a faulty
24 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
memory, some sayings of theirs accurately : " There
are only two views of the power of healing through
spiritual mind. Either these powers were not con-
ferred upon mankind, or, if they were conferred, they
were never withdrawn." This, said in the seventies,
was a breath of primitive Christianity and a forecast
of Christian science, coming from a leader of the
Catholic Revival, or Tractarian movement, at a time
when Gladstone was called a Jesuit in disguise. It
was he who prevailed upon Church to accept the
Deanery of St Paul's, which he retained until he
died, but virtually declined the Archbishopric of
Canterbury. He influenced the world more by what
he was than what he did. He called the relation of
sexes the passion of love, strange, extravagant and
irrationally powerful, but at the root of all things in
life, the worst and the best.
I was often at the Chapterhouse and heard much
conversation, though little was bestowed upon me.
I remember my then intimate friend, Richards, who
gave St Paul's Cross, and another of my pals in those
days, the Rev. E. E. Green. Between us we col-
lected for and presented the Communion plate, still
in use in the side chapel of the Cathedral. Only if
to share impressions and ideas is to know each other,
could I claim to know anything of these saintly men.
" One must know nothing at all who is not sensible
of his ignorance." Under these diverse influences
I first learned to feel things, learned that every
character, however divergent from, or hostile to, our
own ideals, has full existence, and equally varying
sensations. Judged fairly, nothing is really con-
temptible. Years of experience have tended to
confirm this belief : " Plus (a change, plus dest la
^-5
;K^e^
J ■-
O 3 •- J
U o S
b o ^
-J „ ==
SZ.2
CHBONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 26
meme chose." Hence the step from the Chapter-
house to the outside world of a loafing tramp was
not so very great a stride. Good and evil overlap
and cling together like woof and warp, and morals
are often mere customs, the caprice of varied con-
ditions. This seemed so then ; it seems so still.
During the past forty years changes have taken
place. An age that accepted Cremorne and the
Argyll Rooms, thought " Faust " too advanced, and
Rhoda Broughton's novels too Zolaesque. Music
halls were banned ; so was opera bouffe by that very
Patrician Society which to-day provides the stimulus
for both on either side of the proscenium. In those
days we all went to church whatever our convictions,
and the position of the clergy was, I should say, at
its highest and best. To-day the Church is admit-
tedly grasping at the breaking reeds of dogma and
ritual, whilst Science dares to see the Lord God
walking among the trees in the garden.
But for myself, the early days of solitude in crowds
soon became unbearable. A change came over the
spirit of my dreams, which brings me to 1879, a
very happy year for me. I met Mabel Enghsh, and
became engaged to her. Men cannot write grace-
fully about their own engagements, but the first
moment I earned money enough to keep a wife and
my temper, we married. That was in 1880, and
ever since then she has kept me in order, bless her!
Her mother was in the very thick of the Indian
Mutiny; died and was buried at Moulmein. My
wife was a soldier's daughter, and this was well, for
it kept her light-hearted through many a hardship.
There are trials and trials, and not the least of them
is the battle against money worry. Times were
26 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
hard against us, and we certainly had an uphill fight
for years.
A few words about my wife's forbears: Her
father. General EngHsh, C.B., commanded the
53rd at Lucknow, and her grandfather was Colonel
of the Royal Engineers in the Peninsular War. He
died from a gun accident whilst in command at
Woolwich, and was buried with military honours.
My wife's mother was the daughter of Admiral
Sir Francis ColHer, K.C.B., K.H., K.L.S., Naval
A.D.C. to Queen Victoria, Admiral Superintendent
of Woolwich Dockyard, and Commissioner at Green-
wich. He was a middy on board the Victory,
under Lord Nelson, and died in command of the
China station. He married the fourth daughter of
Thomas Thistlethwayte, M.P., of Southwick Park,
Hants, a friend of Horace Walpole. My wife's great-
grandfather. Sir George Collier, was Vice-Admiral
of the Blue, and succeeded Lord Howe as Com-
mander-in-Chief and Admiral of the Fleet for Great
Britain in the American Revolutionary War. He
totally destroyed the American Fleet at Penobscot
Bay in 1779, numbering more than five hundred
fighting and training ships. He was M.P. for Honi-
ton in 1784. His son, Young Collier, when ten
years old, had the good fortune to meet the then
Captain Nelson, R.N., who stood by and befriended
him all his life. The reproduced unpublished letter
from Lord Nelson to the first Lady ColUer, one of
fourteen, concerning her son, throws sidelights upon
his position in relation to his superior officers. The
present Lord Nelson gave me permission to include
it in these memoirs.
To resume, we were married on i6th September,
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 27
1880, at St Alban's Abbey — that is one year after
my first visit to Ceylon, whither I went in 1879,
during the year we were engaged, to estabUsh myself.
My return home in 1880 was timed to allow of
necessary formalities regarding the banns, and then
I left England for Ceylon, this time with my wife,
staying on the way out at Naples.
I shall write no more about those three months,
but continue my narrative from the time I first left
England, July 1879, my first year in Ceylon, which
was beset with worry and hardship. The firm that
engaged me had closed their doors, and I found
myself landed and stranded in Colombo in July,
1879. My hundred pounds, lent by Robert Slater,
,came in very useful, and I found a good friend in
Henry Walker, the brother of old friend Alfred. I
was saved the expense of Colombo life and marched
up country within a week to Kukulu Korle, in the
Sabaragamua District, about a hundred miles by
road from Colombo, and some miles farther on a
bridle path. A horse was to meet me half-way: I
had to cross one small river, or big stream, on horse-
back. Like an idiot, I let my box coolie go ahead.
I had no idea he could go faster than a horse. Two
days it took me to do the journey from Kalatura.
At sunset in the evening I reached the bungalow, and
found it had only the bare earth — no floor, no win-
dows, one door at each end of the room ; a bed, a
table and chair, the ceiling covered with cotton cloth
fixed to the rafters. The first night I experienced
the flapping of a rat-snake, quite harmless, though I
did not know it, hunting rats. I heard their squeals
as they got caught and swallowed. A note arrived
the next morning telling me that my friend had gone
28 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
to Penang, and would be away about six weeks. I
was to do the best I could. The tapal runner came
with letters once a week. It was seven weeks before
I got my first letters after leaving home. To spin
out the joy I carried them unopened for a whole day.
The first European I met was a chubby, little, cheery
hangman, who was en route to string up a brace of
murderers at Ratnapoora. I had asked him to
lunch and felt very drawn towards him, till he
announced his business in gruesome detail. My
nearest and only neighbours were Alfred Borrett,
Reginald Hill, Robert Bartrum and William
Raikes. They lived miles off, across the river, and
as the shell-horn call was at 5 a.m., and muster at
6, I had to go and return in the dark, crossing a river
on a plank. The coolies thought very little of me,
and openly laughed at my orders, which I read from
a Tamil guide-book. In course of time, I lost my
temper, but, of course, I was the only loser. There
was little else than misery at that time, but a tem-
porary lull in my book of Job was brought about by
the occasional meeting of the Planters' Association
in the district.
There was then a sort of improvised levee, and I
became popular in a day, by means of a frock-coat,
which I brought out from home. It was a huge
success! Imitating " Frigoli," I changed behind a
screen, and so, in turn, did sixteen planters, who
walked past the chair in my coat and bowed to the
Governor. It was also worn by four bridegrooms,
and paraded mournfully at two funerals. It's end
was sad! One day I found it, buoyed up with
microbic life, taking a walk by itself, so I shot it —
the only thing I ever killed with a gun! In the hey-
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 29
day of its charm, it buttoned over the chest of thin
men, and was worn wide open by fat men, and it
suited any pattern of trousers. I mourned for it as
for an old friend. During the next ten months I
became in turn planter, merchant, pearl-fisher, gem-
mer and estate owner; but I do not intend to drag
the reader over acres of details which have been
written about scores of times before. I had many
jaunts into the interior. One night I arrived dead-
beat at a rest-house, after riding and walking about
forty miles. The door offered a heavy resistance.
I had to force it open. There on the floor lay the
lady who styled herself Teresa, Countess of Yelver-
ton. Hers was an historical Scotch marriage case,
which she won in the Scotch Courts, losing the
appeal in the House of Lords. Falling upon evil
days, we got her moved to Colombo, thence to
the Straits, where she died from starvation; while
" the whole House of Commons stood up to cheer
Whiteside," the barrister M.P., whose eloquent
oration had succeeded in quashing the marriage.
In the meantime, I bought, with my wife's money,
an estate of 360 acres — 200 in cultivation. " If
your estate is any good for growing tea, I am a
Ijuyer," wrote the great Sir Thomas Lipton in his
early days, from his shop in Glasgow. But Carraga-
hatenne estate was not good for tea. He eventually
bought Dambatenne, Moonerakande and Layma-
stotte, three of the then finest estates in Ceylon. In
those days coffee fetched ^120 per acre, subse-
quently to be sold in some cases for £^ an
acre.
The insects and animal Hfe of Ceylon are worth
a moment's digression. A big chameleon, with a
30 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
tongue as long as its body, with which it catches its
prey so quickly that the eye cannot fqllow it, was
always about my place. Each side of its brain is out
of sympathy with the other, so each eye has separate
action ; for this reason, it cannot swim ; it rolls over.
It calls to mind my little Gecko, with its padded
toes, coming regularly, running along the walls and
ceiling, to stop by the candle-light, where I was
reading. The same little chap — it only had half
a tail — came every day for ten months. One day
I looked in vain for my little pal, but he never
came back.
You must go to Ceylon to see spiders, leeches,
moths, ants, snakes and other reptiles, birds,
leopards, bears, elephants and monkeys, as they
really are. Should you prefer it, you can read
Emerson Tennant, who says some fishes travel over
land, others sing ; some cobra snakes sit up to guard
your bungalow. After this the average liar may as
well give up chronicling his fishing.
Another pal was a tame mongoose — most curious
in its ways. It would rush over a table crowded
with glass, china and flowers, without displacing any-
thing, satisfying its curiosity by a sniff at everything.
We left the mongoose to General Macleod, at that
time commanding the forces in Ceylon. He wrote
us that, returning to dress only just in time for an
official dinner, he found his tunic without a single
button on it. The mongoose had taken them all off
and hidden them ! They were not found till the next
day, nor was the General's temper.
We let our bungalow for a time, and, returning
unexpectedly, found all our furniture packed in side
rooms, and the deep indents of pony hoofs on the
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 31
boarded floor of the drawing-room. Our tenants had
passed their evenings jumping over obstacles on
pony-back. I asked my Kangani if anybody had
been during my absence. " Yes, Sah ! one man with
census paper. I fill in for you the number of coolies
employed — 86 adults and 43 adultresses ! " (This is
the original of a story that now draws the old age
pension.)
In the low country I owned, in addition to my up-
country estate, a small plantation of cocoa-nut trees
(but as I never lived on it there is nothing interest-
ing to say), probably the most useful tree in the
world, every portion of which is put to good use.
The trunk is used for building houses, for making
furniture and farm implements, and countless other
articles ; hollowed out, it makes a canoe. Its leaves
are used for thatching, the leaf stalks for paddles and
fishing lines. The blossom in bud makes preserves
and pickles, besides serving as a staple vegetable.
From the pith of the trunk is derived a kind of sago,
and from the flowers, sugar, vinegar and toddy,
which, after fermentation, becomes arrack. The
ripe cocoa-nut is a valuable article of diet. The
white kernel produces a delicious cream, a good sub-
stitute for milk ; while the oil is used as a lubricant
for soap and candle-making. It is also applied to
counteract the stings of scorpions. The refuse of
the oil, or oil-cake, is valuable as food for animals
and poultry, and as fertiliser for the soil. From the
shell, drinking cups, spoons, lamps, bottles, fire-
wood and even toothpowder are obtained. The
husk supplies fibre for mattresses and cushions,
brushes and mats, ropes, cables, nets, and even the
harness for bullocks. The web sustaining the foot
32 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
stalks is made into strainers and torches. The tree
acts as a conductor in protecting houses from
lightning.
Amongst those I met in Ceylon were Sir James
Longden. He was Governor then. Hfis nickname
was " Nahliki Va." He was a kind man, but in his
time someone was responsible for formally inviting
the Admiral of the Fleet to meet his own midship-
men at Government House; and the midshipmen
happened to be King Edward's sons. The Admiral
taking no notice of the betise formally accepted the
invitation, and expressed regret that he could not
give T.R.H. Princes Albert and George of Wales
shore leave. Great pomp and ceremony had been
arranged for the Royal middies. During the even-
ing the Admiral granted them shore leave for an
hour. The leave was extended, and the ball
lasted four hours, and Prince George (our present
King) honoured Mrs Munday with a dance. So
there !
Sir Arthur Gordon, now Lord Stanmore, was the
next Governor in my time. He was known amongst
us as " Thy Servant Arthur." He seemed to accept
the twofold doctrine of personal effacement and
official pride — to eliminate the man, whilst exalting
the office. Dining at Government House in 1883,
we were informed that the custom had " emanated "
for ladies to stand in the presence of the Governor,
because he represented the Queen. I believe this
was the first time the decree had gone forth. Lord
Stanmore, son of the fourth Earl of Aberdeen, is
perhaps the last link with the famous Peelites of the
mid-nineteenth century. He was private secretary
to his father, who was Premier during the period of
ON'E OF FOURTEEN' UNPUBLISHED LETTERS FROM LORD
NELSON TO THE FIRST LADY COLLIER.
'.«.■ ' 1
^
1.^ WS,--A
■JU t-^ c,^-^r
.r.-^
A^> j"-
v.^ L
U Ivi^^*^
t.. ; 1 ; 1 '.X, ft'^u iV "tv- v 1--'.
\l..., fv-luf-W V-^..-
i--< / =1 -
^\ ;-.. u ' -"^"-^-'^ '-^-
(.V~< ,-
■■^; '
--\o^
- "^ /-
■ ( .
'^--
f^lxyi---^ tH-*-'. ^
u-U '' ,
t ■ '• ^
■. i ,
'- '- J,'
i;t.'. ,1
^ i^'.-.
„,..'^j, l.u'ClL, I'v.a.
^
■^1 .■.,- ^ ('■'.
■■ U ^ ^; . -
f . 1^ ■
-
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 33
the Crimean War. I have been impressed by his
reading of the lessons on Christmas Day, for the last
twenty years, at the church he buik at South Ascot,
and have vaguely wished that I also could have
blended the warm heart and cold dignity that won
for Sir Arthur the planters' finely-chosen epithet,
" Thy Servant."
A remarkable case of forgery was revealed about
this time. I was staying with one I shall call Mr
A., when Mr B. called and solemnly unpacked
acceptances in rupees to the equivalent in value of
;i^ 1 0,000, all of which he had advanced to a third
person who had forged A.'s signature. The authen-
ticity of the writing was, of course, denied. Where-
upon Mr B. quietly tore up the bills, threw them into
the fire, and bowed his exit. " Good God, man, you
have destroyed ^10,000," said A. " The forgery
was not your fault, and I demand the right to share
your loss." " I am satisfied with your word," said
B. Then there ensued a tremendous scene between
two men, each jealous in honour. That is the story
so far as I can relate it. Many duels of ugly passions
have I seen and heard, but never a sermon so fine
as this.
The successors to George Wall & Co. of
Colombo were Courthope, Bosanquet & Co., who
offered me a clerkship in their office. In course of
time Courthope went home. He gave me my pro-
motion, and I signed for the firm of Bosanquet &
Co., with full Power of Attorney, which carried with
it the control over some fifty large coffee estates,
owned by absent proprietors. Now, to be truthful,
I must confess that I was not equipped with experi-
ence enough for this promotion, but I was treated by
C
34 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
the firm with the most kindly consideration. During
this time all went well. We had our home, a charm-
ing house in Bamblapituja, with a beautiful garden
of four acres down to the sea. We went everywhere,
and had a high old time, till 1884, when I got
smashed up by a horse accident at Galle Face.
During those years we had also our coffee estate
in Matale, where we went for our holidays in the
hot season, but alas! our troubles began to come,
not singly, but by battalions. The estate was
beginning to fail — suffering from the terrible leaf
disease, a falling away of the leaf, which prevented
the fruit from ripening ; and we, poor estate owners,
suffered in consequence, from the falling away of the
rupee. It sunk, too, to the value of one shilling and
fourpence. Disaster was all over the Island, and
Madame de Sevigne's prophecy almost came true —
that coffee and Racine would be forgotten together.
In our despair we almost wished that the idea
prevalent in 1650 would be realised, viz. that coffee
would slowly kill and end the species by making men
as unfruitful as the desert, whence that unhappy
berry was first imported. We remembered the
dreadful prophecy of the elder Disraeli, that coffee
would cause the offspring of our ancestors to dwindle
into a succession of apes and pygmies; but none of
these things happened, nor did their contemplation
help matters. Distress and ruin were everywhere.
This caused the planters to develop their British
qualities. It gave them twice their energy, and made
them twice the men. At the time I write, they have
risen from the faded glories of coffee, cinchona, tea
and cardamoms, to supply the world's crop of rubber,
and though my unfaded losses debarred me from
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 35
following the planters through all their vicissitudes,
I can claim to have planted trial tracts of Ceara and
Para rubber more than thirty years ago.
Of more homely experiences, I remember estab-
lishing the Galle Face Amateur Choral Society, and
conducting it. I wonder if it exists now! And I
served, as one does, on committees, and in due time,
should probably have become a member of the
Council, as most men do who stick to, and succeed
in, business in a small colony.
My friends were the Bosanquets and Bous-
teads, the Reverends Mr Newton and Mr Boyd (now
Archdeacon), the Ashley Walkers, Mr and Mrs (now
Sir William and Lady) Mitchell, the Figgs, Duncan
Skrine, W. H. Duncan, Thompson, Crawford (now
Colonial Secretary), and last, but not least, my dear
old friend, Major Ewing. All friends of those days
will remember the stories that we told. There was
D., in his fits of alcoholic forgetfulness, tasting the
salt ocean — his only way of discerning it from the
fresh water of the lake, to find out where he lived —
the Club Bungalow where he then slept being on an
island in the centre of a fresh-water lake, and the salt
water on the other side of the Club. He would also
tell the native cabmen to look at his trouser-button
to find the name of his tailor as " the one man on
earth who could direct the cabman to the last of
his many transitory residences." The poor tailor
had to get up in the night and refer to his book, and
the cabman to toil over miles of ground, as he often
went to many old addresses, and more than once
slept in the palaquin carriage. In a long life he
placed his platonic affections, but never by halves,
and presented a fine edition of nature and art. He
36 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
died of a superfluity of boredom, amounting to bril-
liance, and on his grave was written:
"He done his darndest. What could an angel do
more ? "
The Burghers were funny with their pidgin-Eng-
lish. They favoured strange, incongruous words
and grand expressions, such as : " Silva is a great
bowler, he bowled like lightning, you cannot follow
also." " Rose Perera went to a ball, her brother
told her not to expose, she exposed and deceased."
" Did Ramasamy live here ? " asked the coroner.
" Yes-suh ! " answered the coolie's weeping widow.
" I wish to see the remains." " Fse the remains,"
said the widow.
In native humour they were rich. I found them
faithful friends and full of interest. My boy, a
Tamil, hid himself on board ship, to be with me and
wait on me when I was first invalided home. Coolies
were imported from Southern India in very large
numbers for field labour, as the native Cingalee will
not work in the field for the European.
So many races and religions in a small island is
a great protection against the possibility of a native
rising. Nevertheless there must ever be some
element of discontent, when invaders make their
money out of a country and never reside there them-
selves permanently. As a money-making machine
Ceylon has been often praised, and taken as a stan-
dard of the highest administrative ability. But
suppose that at the Norman Conquest the con-
querors, instead of becoming Englishmen, had
remained strangers, and had likewise brought over
foreign serfs for a term of years, from the Continent,
to cultivate the land, leaving the Saxon inhabitants
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 37
of Britain without means of livelihood, how would
they have liked it? It is said, of course, that the
people in the Colonies prefer this system, because
they will not work themselves. The imported
Tamils in Ceylon, and the Indian coolies in the West
Indies, may be thought by some to be like the Irish
coming across to assist in the English harvest, but
the conditions ar.i not by any means the same. The
results of the system speak for it, and prove it to be
one by which no country can permanently advance
in wealth, and no home of a people can ever be made
happy and prosperous. The cultivation of a country
is never on a secure basis except it be in the hands
of the permanent inhabitants, indissolubly bound up
with their family life, their interests and their hopes.
I had forgotten to mention Sir Jacobus Petrus de
Wet, a cousin, I beheve, of the famous Boer General,
but without his cousin's large way of thinking.
As he grew rather aggressive in Africa they made
him Chief Justice of Ceylon, where he succeeded
Sir Richard Cayley, of pleasant memory. This was
in the early days of the Boer rising.
Sir Jacobus, being very kind-hearted, once burst
into tears when passing sentence of death upon
twelve of the lowest type of lawless men I had ever
seen. I was foreman of the Jury, and we were
locked up three nights during this trial of a most
repugnant case of murder and mutilation.
I often think of the Chief Justice hobbhng into
court, carrying his tiffin in a basin tied up in a red
handkerchief. Well, too, I can recall to mind his
wonderful prophecies concerning South Africa,
given me in confidence, which would have greatly
alarmed me had I believed in the possibiHty of their
38 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
ever being fulfilled. But they were! Good may
have come out of it all, as it often does out of dark
days of trial and sacrifice.
Do you want a Ceylon thrill? Then see a forest
of trees fall like a pack of cards, and watch the firing
afterwards. The Cingalese, cutting with axes the
trees half through, slowly mount the hillside. When
they reach the summit there is much signaUing and
noise ; then they break through the top row of trees,
and the awesome result is Hke an earthquake ! One
hundred acres of my own fell in a few minutes. Then
follows a deep silence, then a hullabaloo of birds and
beasts. Then see the wreck when the sun has been
allowed to dry the fallen wood. Then watch the
firing. The conflagration rages until the whole is
reduced to a charred hideous mass. Into the midst
of this the axe gets busy, to make paths, and the
imported Tamil coolie commences his work of read-
ing, draining, lining, holing, weeding and planting,
till the transformation begins, and in a few years all
is again green with cultivation. In place of the
charred wood, the coffee or the tea plant appears,
and we wait for the harvest to rise from the general
decay. Mother earth, however, takes her toll in
human life, when the newly-exposed jungle soil is
brought under new chemicalisation by the action of
the sun. Great depths of rotted leaves belch forth
their pestilential breath. I know of one estate where
the death-rate the first year after clearing was ninety
per cent. Thus the planter goes on in his anxious
life, subject to vicissitudes in a hundred unlooked-
for ways. The weed is his most expensive enemy.
Lady Gregory doubtless meant well when she intro-
duced lantana as a flower. It has cost the country
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 39
millions to exterminate! Thousands of children do
nothing else but destroy lantana. One may flirt with
luck, but easily lose her. I experimented in rubber,
and after three years could not find either the coolie
that planted the land or his hut. All had been
swept away to one level by a devastating flood! No
boundaries remained except tree marks in unsurveyed
jungle.
Again, in the days when quinine was a guinea an
ounce, I paid five pounds for a pinch of ledgeriana
cinchona seed. I tried to pinch too much and the
middle dropped away. I started sowing, and waited
and waited till the seedlings grew to trees. Mean-
while quinine dropped and dropped, falling from one
pound to six shillings and eightpence per ounce.
Then, indeed, I learnt the awful meaning of a
" drug upon the market," for what was valued for
me at ;^ 15,000, counted for nothing when I sold
the estate some twenty years later. Read a little
more about a planter's life. I have registered over
forty inches of rain in Kukulu Korle in a month of
clouds and heat. I have experienced drought and
seen the leaves drop, leaving the unripe coffee
berries to perish from the bleeding of the sap, and
this in field after field, in the early days of that cussed
leaf disease. I have watched the inscrutable atmo-
spheric conditions kill one after another the experi-
ments that I hoped might prosper. I have seen
brave pals go through the whole gamut of a planter's
trials and seen them lose large fortunes. I have
lived for months On goat and fowl, and eaten bread
as hard as plaster of Paris. I have paid a rupee a
bottle for beer, and found it bad at that! I have
found scorpions in my bed and poisonous snakes in
40 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
my bath. I have had dysentry and fever, and seen
the natives die in scores from want of medicine, and
gemmers distorted by explosion from their ignorance
of dynamite. I have screwed down the coffins of
friends who died isolated. I have been weeks with-
out seeing a man of my own colour or speaking
English except to myself. I have had every variety
of horse accident. My first horse must have been
trained for a circus, for he kept tossing me up in the
air and sometimes failed to catch me. The worst was
on a perfectly smooth road at midday, when both
the horse and I fell whilst asleep. The most ridicu-
lous was when all four legs of my horse fell through
a wooden bridge, and my own legs also. There we
sat and rested, he on his stomach, I on his back,
and not a soul within miles, judgin^g by the time we
were thus " slung " waiting. These are but a few
samples of the vicissitudes of my life as a planter,
pioneering in a new district.
CHAPTER III
More Ceylon Days— Gemming— The Rock Veddah— My Rogue
Elephant — An Elephant Kraal — A Dangerous Accident — We
Leave Ceylon.
After coffee-planting, I turned to gemming. Gem-
ming reminds me of a dear old lady who asked her
Bishop how the little church could possibly have
been built on the side of so steep a hill. " Principally
by damming and blasting," repHed the Bishop.
Here is my experience of a day's gemming. I
started out with no track in a lonely valley, sur-
rounded by miles of unsurveyed virgin jungle. The
sun was quickly shut out by a vast canopy of beauti-
ful parasitic growth, embracing the trees, and there-
fore slowly killing them. Between crags and rocks
a stream slowly trickled its way from the highlands
where the coffee grew, down to the lowlands of un-
opened jungle. Here were the gemmers, damming
and blasting, as we soon discovered, from the sounds
of startled animals and birds. In the deadly silence
of a noonday heat, where the heart throbs audibly,
where silence tinkles and buzzes in the ears, or is as
searching as the " odour of music, or soothing as the
perfume of flowers, for the cumbersome mantles of
leafage is the surest stifler of noise, quite unlike the
crisp silences of the seashore." There are so many
sorts of silences — so few of speech. I had to grope
from rock to rock. It was my duty to report the
:4i
42 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
number of Cingalese, who paid a tax of so much per
head monthly, to be allowed to search for sapphires.
From the fallen leaves of ages, strange things
crawled, and when the gorgeous midday sun peeped
through in streaks, it made darkness darker by con-
trast. How I loathed these visits ! Terrified by the
utter loneliness, I was fairly scared once at hearing
monkey-like chatter proceeding from a baboon-like
object, which was only distinguishable as human
because it carried a bow and arrow. I knew instinc-
tively that I was within the reach of a rock Veddah.
His uncombed hair looked as hard as wood. His
emaciated form and miserable mumbling gave me
notice of his coming. It is said that the Veddah can
with his bow and arrow kill a bird on the wing. I
hid myself and watched him pass into the darkness.
Then I started on an eight hours' journey to return,
and never again would I enter that pathless jungle
for untold gold.
When I got out into the open, I picked off my
arms and legs quite a hundred leeches that had been
shivering at the edge of every twig, waiting, I pre-
sume, to fasten upon any animal that passed by
through the thick undergrowth. The jungle leech
is little more than half an inch long, thin as a hairpin,
but round as a pea when it has finished sucking you,
and it can pierce through any clothing but leather.
It is obviously hopeless to remove them until you
get free from the jungle, as others would fasten on
whilst you did so.
I learnt that the Veddahs are quite a distinct race.
The skeletons and general organisation of their
bodies are similar to those of the chimpanzee. These
little creatures are said to have existed many centuries
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 43
before Christ or Buddha. Living in small groups, or
in families apart from one another, they allot to each
family parts of the forest to hunt in ; but when the
rainy season comes round, they are brought together
and live in grottoes of the rocks. They become
sociable, and arrange marriages, and talk about
things in their limited language. They recognise
no chiefs, know no laws, and are almost devoid of
any ideas. Among themselves they go about naked,
passing the night on the moist ground without the
slightest covering. Their language consists of
Cingalese words so altered that the other natives of
Ceylon cannot understand them, and partly of words
which are apparently the remains of some primitive
language. They have no sense of humour and can-
not laugh. It is said that King Edward tried all
manner of ways to induce a captured Veddah even
to smile, but did not succeed.
After this rencontre, I was flattered by Surveyor-
General Stoddart, who cross-examined me in every
detail before determining that the creature whom I
had met was a Veddah. He added sadly, that the
privilege had been denied to him, though for forty
years he had practically lived in the jungle. I felt
very pleased with myself, and for a time enjoyed the
envy of my fellow-planters.
Next I had a little experience of pearl-fishing.
The fishers, as they fill their canoes, sell loads of
oysters by auction. I bought a load, hired a bullock
cart and tried to watch over it all the way to Colombo.
I was a fool. As I approached the town I was met
by the local drain inspector, who promptly ordered
me and my load of pestilential decomposition to the
right about. I got three ordinary pearls, many seed
44 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
pearls, and a dose of dysentry, which laid me up for
three weeks. So I went with a friend to recoup my
strength into the low country, and paid a visit to a
great chief, Madamanweliya, who, with true Oriental
dignity and hospitality, offered me his family to select
from. My friend, of greater experience, was horri-
fied when I took to selecting, and answered on my
behalf in Cingalee language and proper formula, as
one would in Spain, of course, declining the honour.
To live alone, familiar with wild life, to suspect
the poisonous intentions of every crawling thing, may
have its sporting joys, but they were not for me.
Lovely scenery and excellent sport there were, but
I did not want either to gaze at scenery or to kill
animals. Once I shot a monkey, about the only hit
I ever made, bar the frock-coat. He wiped tears
from his face with the back of one hand, whilst he
staunched the hot blood which poured from a wound
with the other. I felt much more inclined to fondle
the little baby thing, so human in its ways. Anyway,
I was quite sick at having shot it.
I had one more sportsman's chance, and that was
a first shot at a rogue elephant, which, had I killed,
would have brought with it a reward of fifty rupees
from the Government. This is what happened : Gor-
don Gumming,* who rode his horse upstairs to bed
and said it proved how sober he must have been, and
who was perhaps the best shot in Ceylon of his day
(he died of a punctured liver from an elephant's at-
tack), offered me a gun, and off we went with beaters.
After about three hours we met the rogue at, say, forty
yards. " Fire ! " said Gordon Gumming. But this was
* Sir William Haggard corrects me on this point — it was he, not
Gumming.
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 45
too sudden for me, and with a feeling akin to paralysis
in every limb, I blazed away, and — missed it1
Gordon Gumming shot it in the mouth, and it fell
dead. I am told there are only two marks in an
elephant that a single bullet can pierce with fatal
results, one being a spot just behind the ear. This
rogue was a magnificent specimen. He showed old
wounds, that proved that he must have experienced
terrible times and bloody wars with his rivals. On
the chance of someone possibly knowing less than I
do about elephants, let me explain that a rogue (and
I dare say it is largely the case with the two-legged
rogues) is a male grown sullen and mad through
being renounced by all the lady elephants. They
watch his battle for supremacy against another male,
when both are fighting for the possession of the
female herd. After the contest, female-like, the
whole lot go off with the winner. Personally, I think
this conduct is quite enough to make any decently
brought-up rogue go mad.
I told all this to Mr Roosevelt, when he was
hunting wild animals in Ceylon, and whom Court-
hope asked us to meet at dinner. Roosevelt
thought I was awfully lucky, and as a matter of fact
I think so too, for to miss an elephant and see a
Veddah at large are the chances of a lifetime.
Roosevelt was particularly interested about the
Veddah, and cross-examined me as to his exact
locaUty.
To come back to the planters, I remember that
an old pal of mine, at whose bungalow I was stay-
ing, was entertaining a number of brother planters.
Amongst many weird games they began firing pistols
at a target through my door, so I quietly hung up
46 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
their clothes behind the door. Then I went out
for a walk and stayed with a friend till the morning.
Planters are rough in their jokes, though delightful
in their manners! I have lived in many sets since
those days ; but taking them as a whole, I never met
a finer race of men. There was a curious shanty
in the nearest village, with a billiard-table. The
colours of the pool balls were worn off, so I asked
how we could possibly tell which was which. " By
their shape," was the answer. Human creatures
are not unlike pool balls : they vary a little on the
surface, but the texture is pretty much the same.
We were not all teetotallers, and sometimes we
were safer riding without the bridle ; when the road
lies through jungle paths by deep ravines, when the
night is dark, truly the horse is the man's best friend,
so leave him alone to see you home.
I was rather shocked by an elderly lady asking
me whether I kept a harem in Ceylon. She said
she thought one was bound to do that in the East
or else get talked about.
Men, all of different calibre, I met in Ceylon.
There was Quinton Hogg, who founded the Poly-
technic, a man of mild excellence ; another was that
fire-eater, Arabi Pashi. The former I met when he
was passing through Ceylon ; the latter in exile was
a neighbour, a man of whom Labouchere wrote me
in the eighties. " I very much doubt, dear Mr
Munday, whether Arabi is likely to run away from
Ceylon. His detention there, as a prisoner after the
war, is probably a protection from his own enemies ;
but it is not conclusive proof of legal power to detain
him without a special Act of Parliament." From
my slight acquaintance (he lived next to me) I
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 47
should have judged Arabi a patriot of not ignoble
ideas, but limited intellect and of peasant descent.
He became dictator in Egypt and proclaimed war
with England. Lord Wolseley destroyed his power,
and he was exiled to Ceylon, and after many years
was allowed to return. Before he died he witnessed
British Administration in Egypt ; but he himself was
the indirect cause of it all. By a strange coincidence
Lord Kitchener arrived in Egypt the month Arabi
died there.
Now and again we had a holiday, rarely, but the
greatest and the rarest treat we had was an elephant
kraal. This was in 1882, and was perhaps the best
one of the century. It was given at Labugamkanda
in honour of Princes Albert and George of Wales.
How can I describe the cry of the native hari-hari-
hari-hoo-00 ; their magnificent Chief Ekneligoda
and his henchman; the passionate tempers of the
European officials, because things were not going
quite as they wished; the silent revenge of the
natives, who, fearing to be debarred of their prizes,
purposely allowed twelve elephants to escape a few
hours before the Princes' arrival ; the consequent
breakdown of the sport; the savage shooting of a
magnificent cow ; her calf's pathetic effort at concilia-
tion with the murderers by shooting or spitting water
at the tame elephants? A thrilling incident was the
anger of the solitary tusker (very rare), who four
times attacked the Europeans till fire was used to
subdue him. This elephant-capturing expedition,
however, resulted in the failure to noose a single
one of the captive herd on the first day. The cry
was raised, " Caught at last! " but the old chieftain
Ekneligoda knew better. Half a century's experi-
48 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
ence had taught him that you cannot noose a
kraaled elephant the first day. Torrents of rain fell
all the week, and our village, which we had built
specially for the occasion, each having his own
bungalow, became a muddy swamp. No civilised
comfort, no change of clothes were to be had, and
we lived for seven days in the midst of parasitic
vegetation ; very beautiful, but a fever swamp. On
the seventh evening some noisy visitors revelled at
night, with the result that nine elephants, all timid
by nature, broke through the lines of fire, from fear,
and escaped after the misery of being driven for two
months over eighty miles through pathless fungle.
Starving and parched with thirst, the few elephants
that remained were humbly submissive, or frantically
fierce, until at last they were kraaled. Confused as
they were, they consorted with the tame members
of their own family, who were brought there to recon-
cile them, while relying upon the defence of their
one male tusker, who died furiously protecting his
poor scared wives. They presented a truly pathetic
sight. The mothers, wildly defending their young,
tortured with grief, died some of them from sheer
starvation.
After the kraal. Captain Evan Thomas (brother
of my old friend, Owen), I think it was, brought
T.R. Highnesses to our little improvised bungalow,
and they chatted and smoked and set us completely
at our ease. That was the end of our week at
Kraal Town, and I may as well make it the end of
this chapter, for, soon after, in 1884, I was thrown
from my horse, got concussion of the brain, and lay
between life and death till I was able to go home.
I was unable to stand Colombo, where the mean
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 49
average temperature, night and day, all the year
round, registers eighty degrees. Henry Ewart, a
staunch friend, took charge of my affairs, and, inci-
dentally, the Governor ordered the road in which we
lived, off Cinnamon Gardens, to be closed to traffic,
whilst I was lying between life and death. That
was the end of our life in Ceylon. We brought
home all the little savings we could scrape together,
and when I went to the banks to buy English bills
of exchange, the manager of the Oriental Bank
quoted a prohibitive price. As he had always been
friendly, I could not understand this ; but when the
pilot came on board, near Southampton, he told us
that the Oriental Bank had failed. Friendship such
as this counts in life. I was saved at a critical time
from losing all I had by one who, without betraying
the secret of his forebodings, or his duty to the Bank,
simply prevented my buying by quoting too high a
rate of exchange.
And so, with a heavy heart, feeling we had failed
to settle there, or to achieve anything real, we left
Ceylon broken in health and spirits ; for a break-
down is always more difficult to face than an untried
future. Apart from sentiment, there was the loss
of my income, and the crops were failing on my
estate year after year, and our beautiful up-country
home was thus closed to us for ever. Then there
was the wrench of selling our pet animals and our
household effects, the letting of our house in Cinna-
mon Gardens, Colombo, and, worst of all, the good-
bye to sympathetic friends. I think I have said
before, and no wonder if I repeat it, that the men
whom I had served behaved like bricks. They gave
me a handsome bonus ; but perhaps they knew what
50 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
we did not, that the doctor's verdict was against
my ever returning to work in Colombo. The few
memories of the Spicy Isle have faded with the years,
and Ceylon, over thirty years later, seems, is, in fact,
a dream of wasted life, one in which I never shone,
nor was ever able to pay back one half of the kind-
nesses I received.
Its experience served to build up some inner sense
of reliance perhaps. I think it was General Gordon
who said : " If I were my own superior, I should
never employ myself." I felt upon my return to
London something like a giraffe with a sore throat,
or a centipede with corns.
CHAPTER IV
Woman and Donkey harnessed together in Malta — Search for
Work— Some Good Friends — At the Academy of- Music —
" How to Sing "—A Fiasco— Hamilton Aid^— The Gold
Brick.
The only event of interest that I can recall on the
voyage back to England was that at Malta I saw
a woman and a donkey harnessed together drawing
a wooden plough. Whilst watching that patient pair
I grimly reahsed that I, myself, must once again set
my hand to the plough in earnest. Badly equipped
was I to start the fight again in London, having only
learned the things in which I could not shine or
succeed there. It seemed unwise to face the long
odds against winning fortune in the city, with no
particular calling for any career, and bearing with
me those melancholy evidences of a concussed brain,
pain and irritability. We lived in two rooms, first in
Park Street, Park Lane, then in Parkside, Albert
Gate, and finally dwelt for many years at No. 4 Park
Row, Albert Gate. These diggings we shared with
an old friend, Mrs St Hill, President of the Chiro-
logical Society, and the author of some books on the
subject.
For three years I never heaved a sigh nor earned
a sixpence, and with renewed health we were both
as happy as kings, if indeed kings be happy. I
had nowhere particular to go to myself, so my wife's
people, the Pitney Martins at Gascoigns, Lyndhurst,
^1
52 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
put me up for long stretches at a time. There I first
met those, who, throughout their lives, never ceased
to be friends, whom I can only think of as forbearing
and constant through good report and ill report, who
encouraged the best and suppressed the worst; and
to whom, for whatever of interest and enjoyment
became mine in the years in store, I owe deep
gratitude.
These friends were Hamilton Aide, Lord and
Lady Londesborough, Colonel and Mrs Collier, and
Miss Caroline Holland. Year by year, many other
dear friends have come closely into my life, but none
can encroach on these separate freehold mansions ;
none mark the boundary of affection which grows as
the years increase, and that has never been marred
by any change of passing circumstances. It was first
suggested by H. A. that I had a voice capable of
being turned to account; so in a desperate effort to
do something, at the age of twenty-seven, to the
Royal Academy of Music I went, and there I enjoyed
the first school and playground I had ever known.
Sir George Macfarren was the Principal; and my
fellow-students included Arthur Goring Thomas,
Laurence Kellie, Edward German, Marie Tempest,
Ben Davies, Ethel Winn, Julia Neilson, and many
more, friends all. I never passed the simplest ex-
amination in the theory of music, and failed to play
the scale of C Major after long and arduous tuition ;
but, I suppose, I learned to sing.
The great Abbe Liszt played to us students at
the R.A.M., and silly girls tore flowers from their
hats to throw at him in artistic adoration. As he
went out, I tried my scale of C, and was nearly
lynched in consequence. Liszt was a fine animal
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 53
with an artistic soul. I was introduced to him by
Goring Thomas, but was too shy to say a word.
My friends thought it best that I should concen-
trate my energies on singing. Accordingly, after
three terms of general study, I left the Academy to
be taught singing privately by Goring Thomas,
Randegger, Shakespeare, Blume, Bethune, Kelfie,
Tosti, Fiori, and finally by Garcia, who might have
taught Noah. This is how he bridged time while
he lived. Beethoven had not yet completed his
thirty-seventh year, and Schubert was a boy of
eight. Auber, Bishop, Cherubini, Dibdin, Haydn,
Meyerbeer, Paganini, Rossini, Spohr, Weber were
all living, and many of them had yet to become
famous. As for Chopin, Mendelssohn, Schumann
and Brahms, they were not even born, while Gounod,
Wagner and Verdi were still mere schoolboys, when
my master Garcia was a full-blown operatic baritone.
Yet he outlived every one of them by many years!
It is extraordinary to recall the fact that Jenny Lind,
Malibran, Marchesi and Charles Santley all passed
through his hands. After this it would not surprise
me in the least if Albert Chevalier told me that Shake-
speare taught him Hamlet.
I also studied declamation under Miss Glyn and
Walter Lacey. I dotted down notes of all the in-
structions I received from these many authorities
upon singing, and here I reproduce them literally : —
Breathe diaphramatically, laterally and clavicularly,
which simply means midruff lowering, girding the
loins, and shoulder heaving. Do not sing in cold
countries, as the tongue becomes rigid, but in the
south, for round pronunciation. Do not smoke, or
inhale fogs. Sing full speed ahead, with a lighted
54 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
candle in front of the mouth without making it flicker ;
fix two boards to a wall, and rest your shoulders
against them. Use a spirometer, recover your
breath without signs of distress, squirt your voice
like a syringe from the back of your head, never
distort your face or figure, practise the laryngeal
muscles every day, never sing in small apartments
or large buildings, avoid all condiments, attack the
consonants and float on the vowels, keep the tongue
down with a spoon, sing koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-oo-o-
ah to avoid throatiness, command the soft palate
direct sound through the resonant cavities of the
nose, avoid the cannon ball tone (this was Blueman-
thal's advice), emit sound as it were from the fore-
head, never sing before a meal, never sing after a
meal, regard your audience as cabbage stalks, hum
with the mouth closed, never sing in the open air
nor on the water, and do not talk in the streets. If
y ur tongue itches, your head aches, and you are
giddy, all is well ; gargle salt water and blow it
through the nose ; emit sound, as it were, through
the eyes ; never sacrifice sense for sound, never sacri-
fice sound for sense ; relax the abdomen, draw in the
abdomen ; practice mobility by touching the tip of
your nose with your tongue, and never weep !
Very well then, endeavouring to deserve the good
opinion I had of myself and stuffed with all this
knowledge, I got my first engagement. May 24th,
1887, was the epoch-making date, and I created a
tenor part in Cherubini's fourth Mass at St James'
Hall (created means singing for the first time in
England). This was my first and only serious
engagement — the result of years of study, with cost
of upkeep amounting to about ;^900. It lasted two
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 56
minutes and a quarter. Mackenzie was conducting,
and the London Musical Society provided a chorus
of two hundred. Whether it was the noise of the
orchestra or the chorus, I don't know; but some-
thing paralysed me. I got away all wrong, jumbled
the whole affair and walked off the stage.
This was the beginning and the end of my career
as a professional singer. True, I enjoy to this day
singing for vanity, called charity, which endureth all
things. I stooped to writing my own Press notices,
and expressed surprise as to how these flattering
criticisms could have possibly crept into the papers ;
but the artificialities of an incompetent singer were
demoralising and expensive, and I felt the humilia-
tion of failure in this latest link in my chain of
appointments and disappointments. To be fair to
myself, however, I did, in company with David
Bispham, Agnes NichoUs, Lucille Saunders, and
professionals of the best, take the tenor solo parts,
some of which I created, in the following works: —
Spohr's " Calvary,"
Gaul's " Joan of Arc,"
Bottesini's " Garden of Olivet,"
Parry's "Judith,"
M'Cunn's " Lay of the Last Minstrel,"
H. J. Edward's " Ascension,"
Molique's " Abraham,"
Miss Holland's " Miss Kilmansegg."
I was a member, too, of the " Magpie " Minstrels, and
once, only once, sang solos at a " Magpie " concert.
This was on 3rd June, 1887. It was not a pleasant
time in my life, for I had not much money left. I
was living on capital made in Ceylon, and earning
nothing. I was also becoming a snob. Now snob-
bery is a gift one is usually born to and seldom
56 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
acquires. I was not completely successful at that.
By doing nothing particularly well, I became feebly
popular. Genuine failure has this much to be said
in its favour — it makes one immune from rivalry
and jealousy.
This jumble of experiences, which left me empty,
left me also spiritless. Naturalness and frankness
seldom survive poverty, and so feeble did I become
in the effort to keep up appearances, that I reminded
myself of a gentlemanly valet, whose master said that
no gentleman was quite so gentlemanly as all that. At
length I was in the condition of an opportunist, with
little left but carefully-sheltered, hothouse courage.
At last a turn came, which I owe to Hamilton Aide
and Miss Caroline Holland, whose characters, widely
different, were the very best tonic and exercised an
influence which has never been effaced. Hamilton
Aide was my wife's cousin, and he took an interest
in our little battles with fate, and eventually became
my greatest friend, and left me co-truslee of his
affairs. Doubtless his life will be written, but this
is how he presents himself to me in thought to-day:
Nature, which denied him some things, gave him
what most he valued, a passionate love for painting,
sculpture, music, poetry, and the language of the
gods; all things, too, that were grand or beautiful,
the light of an ingenuous countenance, and what
transcends them all, of noble action. Without any
taste for politics or sport, the Greek blood in him
(his father was Greek Minister and was killed in a
duel) accounted for an aristocratic Bohemianism.
Nevertheless, he entirely failed to simulate the hail-
fellow-well-met manner. He understood little about
animals, children, or sport, but kindness took a good
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 57
second place to knowledge. Jealous of all com-
petitors in any race which he ran with weakness, he
was tolerant and encouraging to those who excelled
where he himself excelled. The Athenaeum, the
Beefsteak and the St James' were his favourite
clubs; somehow the Garrick did not fit him. This
much-travelled bachelor could hold his own in con-
versation with most. His intimates were amongst the
leaders in many walks of life, and it is not too much
to say that those who knew him most loved him best.
Of his talents, out-and-out the best was his paint-
ing. He gave three exhibitions of several hundreds
of his works ; and they fetched good prices. He set
a fine example to amateurs by giving every penny to
charities. At upwards of eighty, this was his round
of the clock : A breakfast party, or, at least, a friend
to breakfast ; then perhaps a wedding, or theatrical
rehearsal, or a picture gallery; luncheon with some
friend, an Imperial Highness or a stockbroker ; then
a dinner party, a theatre, a look-in at one or two
parties or a ball; but always he would finish up at
the Beefsteak Club with a lemon-and-soda.
On off-days he would rest by composing a song.
He had published sixty. " Remember or Forget,"
and " The Danube River," written fifty years ago,
are still sung and sold ; and he published three
volumes of poems, " Lost and Found " being the
best. He also wrote some thirty novels, which satis-
fied a passing vogue. His plays were not success-
ful, though Bernhardt, Ellen Terry, Duse, Irving
and Mrs Kendal have all acted in them. His
" Philip " was produced at the Lyceum by Irving.
His coined epigrams were few, but he excelled
in illustrative anecdote. In spite of, or perhaps,
58 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
because of these many talents, he achieved a social
position of eminence and success.
He was an occasional guest at Sandringham;
King Edward also honoured his parties. Prince
Alexander of Teck spoke of his frequent visits to his
home and his singing in the olden days. Letters of
affection from his old friends, the Whitakers and the
Jessups, testify to qualities which drew towards him
the great minds of his day. And then the end. In
the best of spirits, his last day in London was with
Princess Alexis Dolgorouki, where he kept up
animated conversation with his old friend, Mrs
Cornwallis West, and helped at the Sale of Work
executed by the Grand Duchess Serge's peasants.
Thence he went to Lord Avebury, but had to return
immediately to Half-moon Street, where he died
within two days, peacefully and painlessly. Indeed,
I was unaware of the moment of his death. His
hand in mine grew icy cold, and when I looked at
my watch it was three o'clock in the morning. Hey,
his faithful valet, was also present. A memorial
service was held at St Paul's, Knightsbridge. He
was cremated and the urn with his remains was
buried at South Ascot. His life demonstrated the
beauty of death, and his death demonstrated the
beauty of life. I close this chapter in affectionate
memory of Hamilton Aide, " transformed by the re-
newing of the mind," on the 13th of December, 1906.
Lines suggested by the Memorial Service to Mr
Hamilton Aide, December 20, 1906: —
" If we might write one letter to our dead,
One only — and unanswered — just to pay
The little toll of words we would have said,
That hour we learnt all was too late to say :
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 59
If we could tell them gently all they meant,
And were, by deed or being, to our tholes,
Surely there would be packed in what we sent
Comfort, unspeakable to dislodging souls.
And greater to the sender, for brute facts,
Of termagant humdrum, never can remove,
' The little nameless, unremembered acts,'
Of careful kindness and remembering love,
Which made that best of us, we never knew
In the making; since, so gentle was the flood.
Its small waves lapped our careless selves and drew
Our love and wit, unwittingly, to good.
We learn it from the world, what we have lost.
And curse our carelessness; yet the dry pen waits.
And dawdles, with no dreaming of the cost.
To those who still are lingering at the gates.
And then — the ' never again ' — the old regret.
The ' wish I had,' the old reforming vow —
Oh, Friend or Lover, die before 'Too late,'
Give all thou hast, be swift, and give it now."
— H. C.
One morning shortly after Hamilton Aide's death,
I, as co-executor under his vi^ill, had to open letters
addressed to him. Will the reader consider and
decide exactly what course he or she would have
taken under the circumstances related in the follow-
ing letter? It is a positive duty to insert it, as it
reached me, for the reason that the reader will
discover.
Denver Special and St Louis Limited, en route.
Monday, December y.st, 1906.
Mr Hamilton Atd^.
" Dear Sir, — Henry is in very poor health. He
intended to come out of the mines to attend to the
matter I am about to set before you, but, unfortun-
60 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
ately, he had a severe hemorrhage of the lungs a
few days ago and has been ordered, if he would live,
to remain in the high altitude for the present. He
feels that you must be anxious to hear from him, as
it is now a long time since you last heard from one
another, and so he requested me to act for him and
to write you fully at the earliest possible moment.
He did not have the heart to write during the trying
months of toil and failure, but now that good fortune
has come to him, he cannot get the good news to
you too soon.
" I left the mines last Saturday morning (Decem-
ber 29th) and am writing ' en route ' to New York.
" We are located in the Cripple Creek mining
district of Colorado, where we have discovered the
richest good quartz veins I have ever seen.
" Henry has declared you in with him, share and
share alike. He owes his success to you and to
your financial support, and he feels that you are fairly
entitled to share equally with him in the profits
resulting from his explorations, according to promise.
" His richest group of mines, named in your
honor, ' The Aide group,' will alone make you both
immense fortunes. We have expended our best
energies on them and have already uncovered in
simple development work, such as driving tunnels,
sinking shafts and tripping the vein, enough of very
rich rock to keep a five-stamp will running night and
day for years. We store our richest rock in drifts
and in cross cuts under ground, to crush with a
primitive arrastra of our own construction. The low
grade ore is thrown over the dump to be handled
by more modern machinery. To give you an idea
of the superior quaUty of our ore, would say that we
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 61
have often knocked out of our richest rock, in a
single day with an ordinary hand hammer, from 40
to 50 ounces of gold, valued at £At per ounce.
" I am bringing with me 165 pounds avoirdupois
weight, of pure gold, which I am instructed to deliver
to you in New York. Gold to be taken to the mint
in England to be sold. You keep one half of the
proceeds and deposit the remainder in bank to
Henry's credit.
" If the vein we are working does not dip within
a few feet, it will run into adjoining property. In
case this happens, we shall buy the property in order
to control mother lode. We have managed, thus
far, in keeping the knowledge of the value of our
strike to ourselves, which will enable us to buy at a
low figure, should we need the property, and also
enable us to secure titles to as many claims as
wanted.
" I have put off registering claims at Henry's
request, until after he has heard from you. He
thinks your idea of incorporating your joint interests
a good one and he will gladly consent to any plan
you may suggest. He deems it advisable for you to
send a trustworthy person back with me to look after
your interest, as he intends to come out late next
season and wants to leave mines in care of a man
who is satisfactory to you. His health permitting,
he will then come to England to visit you. He also
requested me to say that he does not want any of his
kinsfolk to know of his good fortune ; at least, not
for the present, for reasons known to you. Caution
the person you elect to return with me to keep our
matter strictly ' sub rosa ' until after we have
registered as many location certificates as the law
62 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
will allow. We are taking every precaution to keep
the knowledge of our strike to ourselves, for, did the
world but suspect it, prospectors would swarm about
us to peg out claims, a catastrophe to be carefully
avoided.
" I am directed not to send the gold to you through
a bank or to place the same in bond, as such a course
would subject us to the annoyance of inquisitive
meddlers and might result in exposing our strike to
a loss to us of thousands upon thousands of pounds.
" You can form no idea of the stir and excitement
our find will cause, in the mining world, when it
becomes known. Therefore, in order to protect
ourselves against a possible heavy loss through a
premature exposure, come on in person. Henry
realises fully what the voyage may mean to you,
and would not suggest it did I not know that your
best interests demand it. Should you, however, feel
unequal to the journey, do not delay matters by
writing, but send on a trusted relative in your stead,
cautioned as above, as I must return to the mines
as soon as possible.
" Do not trust this matter to an outsider, it means
too much. Cable me upon receipt of this when
and by what steamer you sail and I will meet you
upon your arrival in New York. In the meantime
I shall visit my mother, who lives in Scranton, Penn-
sylvania, at no great distance from New York, and
shall anxiously await your cablegram. Hoping to
have the pleasure of meeting you soon, I am, dear
Sir,
" Faithfully yours,
" E. A. Sinclair."
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 63
" N.B. — You can easily make the round trip in
three weeks. — E. A. S."
" Address cablegram as above : Elmer Sinclair,
St Charles Hotel, Scranton, Penna."
Well, I wired out, naming a ship ; bought my kit
and looked forward to having a jolly good time, when
lo! my co-trustee, C. C. Tennant (far wiser than I)
advised me to go to the U.S. Embassy and make in-
quiries, which I did, and was promptly disillusioned.
It turned out to be one of the most gigantic frauds
of modern times, the object being to get the executors
to provide money in the belief that the letter was
genuine, and they had no opportunity of proving it
otherwise, as the person addressed is always taken
from the death columns on The Times. The
swindle has been successful in many cases and has
prospered to the known extent of over ^50,000. The
unknown is more terrible : two victims have never
been heard of since they landed in America — in-
veigled one supposes either up country or to the
opium dens in the city of New York. I wrote to my
old friend, Charlie Bayley, who was then acting Con-
sul in New York, and he replied:
" Dear Luther, — It is the old ' gold-brick '
brigade. I have been after them for years and have
often nearly caught them, but they are still at large."
CHAPTER V
Miss Caroline Holland — A Remarkable Character — Her Choir
— Penny Bank — " All Sorts and Conditions of Men " — The
People's Palace — Opening by Queen Victoria — The Empress
Frederick's Adventure.
" Fear no more the heat o' the sun, nor the furious
winter's rages,
Thou thy worldly task hast done. Home art gone —
and ta'en thy wages."
Miss Caroline Holland was a friend whose life
would make an interesting volume. One of her
brothers was Lord Knutsford, Secretary of State for
Colonies, a tactful and courageous statesman, an
administrator with the spirit of Lord Carnarvon, and
a sympathetic friend to me in my People's Palace
days. Her other brother was Canon Holland of
Canterbury. She was a granddaughter of Sydney
Smith, from whom she inherited certain remarkable
qualities. Her father. Sir Henry Holland, was a
doctor, described as possessing great charm, and
although no relation to the Lady Holland, of Holland
House, wrote the following extraordinary description
of Lady Holland, which I copy from the memoirs
of the Holland family, as it might certainly have been
written to describe his daughter Caroline, of whom
I write: —
" A remarkable woman in every way, supreme in
her own house; she exercised capricious tyranny
64
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 65
even over her guests of the highest rank and pro-
fession; but though capricious in mind, there was
really intention in all she did, and this intention was
the maintenance of power, which she gained and
strenuously used. She knew when to change her
mood, and to soothe by kind words the provocation
she had just given, and was very apt to give. She
was aided by a native generosity of mind, which
never failed to show itself where kindness was
wanted. In my long and intimate knowledge I
never knew her desert an old friend whatever his
condition might be. Her management of conver-
sation, sometimes arbitrary, and in rude arrest of
others, furnished a study in itself."
While someone asked Miss Holland if she was
related to Lady Holland, she answered : " No, I am
New Holland, and my capital is Sydney."
Speaking for myself, I never had a stauncher
friend. She was no respecter of persons. I have
known her keep a Bishop waiting whilst she promptly
attended to an errand boy. All social events would
be set aside, whilst she paid excessive attention to
minute and tiresome details ; but when she had made
up her mind on any given subject, she set about
doing it with a strange mixture in her manner of
boldness and coyness. She had what I can only
describe as a manlike courage and generosity;
broad and large, quite in contradistinction to a petti-
ness she seemed to adopt in arriving at her decisions.
Caroline Holland never wished for any return for
her kindness, and was childlike in her appreciation
of the sHghtest attention from those she Hked.
Colossal in her energy, she realised by her amateur
choir some ^13,000, which she gave to charity. This
£
66 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
choir she conducted whilst she played at the piano,
expressing, in a loud voice, praise or blame during
the performance. If she allowed any man to con-
duct, she promptly conducted him; and has even
been known to sharply correct a royal member of
her choir. Her large circle of friends never forsook
her, though they were literally commandeered to
subscribe for her charities and concerts. They
would enter the hall in an apologetic frame of mind
and cheer hysterically whenever she signalled her
orders ; yet not one of them knew why they were
thus mesmerised. Her Penny Bank was a wonder-
ful organisation in Soho, conducted in some miser-
able, damp cellar under a church. Here she
influenced thousands of poor children to save their
pence. Perhaps the parish was upset and the
curates terrorised — but what of that? There was
not a soul who would not follow her lead. Even at
her evening parties, guests who I really believe had
never in their lives emitted a musical sound before,
quietly got up and sang in quartettes, simply because
she willed it. On the twenty-fifth anniversary of the
choir, we presented Miss Holland with a testimonial.
Lord Hampton, the senior member, wired me to make
the speech for him, and I think it was all right. It was
from the very heart of all her choir, past and present.
Such opposite characters as Hamilton Aide and
Miss Holland left their influences for good. With
Miss Holland it was action ; with Aide it was reflec-
tion. I might perhaps insert here a characteristic
letter from Miss Holland to my wife :
" Dear Mabel, — Will you and Luther dine with
me and play bridge on Tuesday next when I return
to London from Ajaccio? Ask L. what he thinks
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 67
of this — ^it is the last few Hnes of an article I am
publishing : ' A pretty girl, aged fourteen, of an
obscure provincial town, marries a man as little
known to fame. They have a numerous family, and
it becomes a matter of serious anxiety how their
children are to be provided for.
" ' And lo ! says Gregorovius, these same children
one day put forth their hands one after the other,
and grasp the mightiest crowns of the earth, tear
from the heads of the most unapproachable majesties
of Europe, and wear them before the world : Napo-
leon is Emperor of France; Joseph is King of
Spain; Louis, King of Holland; Jerome, King of
WestphaUa; Paulina and Eliza are wedded to
Princes of Italy, and Caroline is Queen of Naples.
These almost incredible facts are pompously
recorded on the wall to the north of the high altar,
and justify the proudly, simple inscription on the
marble tomb beneath:
' Here Hes Letitia RamoHno,
The mother of Kings.''
" Yours ever,
" Caroline Holland."
Both have gone before. Miss Holland died in 1909.
She certainly rose above the little forms that circum-
scribed her sex. About this time Hamilton Aide
wrote a little play. Alfred Scott-Gatty set it to music,
and Miss Holland started a drawing-room operetta
company. They all did it in our interests, and we
had a dress rehearsal before it started on its provincial
tour. This dress rehearsal was its only real success.
It is, however, worth alluding to, as it was the means
of raising ;^500 for the benefit of the Gordon Boys'
68 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
Home. King Edward and Queen Alexandra came,
and a great following with them. That night also
marked the first appearance in London of Marshall
Wilder and Eugene Gudin. Incidentally, this
was my first success as an honorary organiser.
Marshall Wilder was a clever little humorist, but,
as he admits, his tact gave out when he offered Sir
Henry Irving some letters of introduction. Gudin
was, to my mind, one of the most charming salon
singers of his day. De Soria was his only rival then,
and one night, Evelyn, Duchess of Wellington, or
was it Mrs Thornburgh Cropper, gave a party and
asked them both to sing. They were, in fact, on
trial before a party of critics, and Eugene won, prin-
cipally because, though in all other respects equal
with De Soria, his full voice was distinctly better.
Poor Eugene died quite young, but not before he
had won the affection of many and the adulation of
most. About this time De Lara, Lawrence Kellie,
Haydn Coffin, Thorndike, and Jack Robertson were
beginning to make their mark.
In 1887 a sensational novel came out, called " All
Sorts and Conditions of Men," by Rice and Besant.
The story inspired the building of the People's
Palace, and when the large hall was finished, some
sort of scheime was wanted to set it in motion.
Harold Boulton, Ernest (now Sir Ernest) Flower,
and Charlie Bethune took it up with enthusiasm,
and asked me to help them. Anything of the nature
of statistics is always boring and dull, so I have cut
them all out, but as these are my memoirs, I must
put in a few pages about the People's Palace.
When the large hall was opened, there was some
excitement, for our never-to-be-forgotten Queen
CHKONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 69
Victoria came east. The streets were kept clear
for five miles, while Mayfair drove to Whitechapel.
As Honorary Organiser in Court Dress, I rather
fancied myself as I drove along the route, especially
as Madame Albani was seated by my side. Scott-
Gatty was Master of Ceremonies, and had to hustle
us a bit, for just as I was by mistake placing Albani
on the throne, a mighty cheer arose, to signify the
arrival of Her Majesty. The strains of " Home,
Sweet Home " deeply affected the Queen, yet the
brilliancy of jewels and the wealth displayed con-
trasted but badly with the sordid surroundings of
East End poverty. We, of the Committee, also had
a silent anxiety, for by somebody's mistake (we all
blamed each other) it had been intimated that an
unrepealed Disorderly House Act showed we were
breaking a law in opening the Palace without having
first obtained a music licence. It was within the rights
of a common informer to arrest one performer and
one listener, and to lock them up without the option
of a fine. Such was the law! and although nothing
happened, we suffered a very disagreeable hour. For
some days previously I had been taking measures
to ward off possible consequences. First to the local
magistrate I went three times ; then to the head of the
Criminal Department, Mr Murdoch ; to the Commis-
sioner of Police and to Mr Pennyfather ; to the Clerk
of the Peace, Sir R. Nicholson ; then to the Home
Secretary and Mr Leigh Pemberton; to the Lord
Chamberlain and the Hon. C. Ponsonby Fane ; to the
Licenser of Plays, and Mr Piggott, and Mr Tupper ;
then to the Privy Council Office and Mr Suft.
Last of all, I wrote and asked Sir Henry Pon-
sonby, then in waiting at Balmoral, to intercede and
70 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
gain Her Majesty's sanction for a special charter,
similar to that given to the Albert Hall. Well, to
speak truly, the Queen was angry at our mistake,
and said No! Nothing but sheer luck saved the
most unpleasant scene, for the neighbouring music
halls were jealous of our privilege.
Another excitement at the People's Palace was a
visit from the Empress Frederick of Germany. We
were told that it was the custom in Germany that on
such occasions the ruling family should mingle with
the people without ceremonious restraint. So the
Empress moved about without any lady-in-waiting,
or even the official peeler. Off we started with the
Empress to go the round of the Exhibition. The
" we " consisted of about six old gentlemen, repre-
senting city livery companies or something, but only
just able to totter along themselves. Harold Boul-
ton, Flower and I were a bit nimbler, but we didn't
reckon on what was to follow.
Of a sudden, the crowd closed in. We quickly
abandoned all ceremony, and recognised the only
course, and that was to get Her Majesty away as
quickly as possible. The crowd closed upon us
now with greater force. Those nearest could not
help themselves, as there were thousands behind
them. In this great emergency, Boulton, Flower
and I adopted the good old game of prisoners base,
and charged with folded arms into the crowd, just
as the screams of women and children warned us
that a panic was threatening. I caught sight during
the scrimmage of one of the Committee; his wig
and hat had gone. We three had also lost our hats.
Indeed, we let them go, as we could not wear them,
and our ties were arranged round our ears. Her
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 71
Majesty the Empress, throughout, remained calm
and collected. She never showed the slightest
signs of fear. At last we reached the railings, and
there hailed somebody's private brougham. The
astonished coachman did our bidding, when we told
him where to go. Her Majesty smiled gratefully,
made some pretty remark, put out her hand to be
shaken or kissed ; I didn't know which, so I did both,
and inly ruminated that a German Empress had
suffered a forced retreat to the sanctuary of a passing
brougham. It would be boring to dwell at length
at any of my fifty-six entertainments. One, however,
I must allude to. This ran from 1 1 a.m. to 7.10 p.m.
with twenty-three changes, for ten thousand children.
Poor old Toole and Corney Grain on this occasion
experienced the only known failures of their lives,
and it fairly broke their spirits for the day.
Toole walked about Victoria Park and returned to
the attack with renewed spirits, while Dick Grain
got more and more rigid and frigid. But it was all
of no use. Failure was the only word, as the chat-
tering of ten thousand children never ceased, until
a performing Blondin donkey turned that chatter
into a yell of joy. It was my fault for having asked
Toole and Grain, but, much to my regret, I never
have understood children.
The marshaUing of the children in and out was
exciting. From a tremendously high platform out-
side, I gave well-rehearsed orders by means of a
boatswain's whistle, to the heads of each school, who,
in turn, were marshalled by my two sub-managers.
Not a child was lost, and only eight mislaid tempo-
rarily, but the traffic was turned aside for two hours.
The little ones consumed 17,005 lb. cakes, 900 gal-
72 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
Ions of tea, and 34 gallons of milk. This work was
splendid training for managerial work in later years,
but the discreet eulogies of the permanent authorities
seemed to be a little pale return for the labour which
I had unceasingly carried on for six months.
I append, with pleasure, the first letter of en-
couragement I ever received for honorary organisa-
tion. It came unofficially from Mr (now Sir Arnold)
F. Hills, Chairman of the Thames Iron Works, a
philanthropist and vegetarian.
" The Thames Iron Works,
" Blackwall East.
" August 2s,th, 1887.
" My Dear Mr Munday, — I have just received
your extraordinary 'memorandum of the work you
have done at the People's Palace, and hasten to con-
gratulate you on the splendid results you have
obtained. As one who has been deeply interested
in the success of this new venture, for bringing the
pleasure of art within easy reach of the poorest
people, and also as one who has been able to render
but scanty assistance in the organisation and carry-
ing through of so big a scheme, I beg to return to
you my heartiest thanks for all the labour and pain
you have bestowed so continuously and successfully.
I know it has been a real labour of love with you, but
for this very reason you deserve our best thanks the
more.
" Believe me,
" Yours very truly,
" Arnold F. Hills.
" To Luther Munday, Esq.,
" Honorary Organiser and Member of Executive
Committee."
CHAPTER VI
The Lyric Club— Entertainments— The Lyric Cricket Club-
Whist— Sandow— Sabbatarianism— Lord Selby— Collapse of
the Lyric Club.
I THINK it was in 1889 that Sinclair Macleay took
me one Sunday night to 175 Bond Street, where we
stayed till 2.30. Here I at once felt that I had
found my temperamental soundings and surround-
ings. This was the Lyric Club, which, in one form
or another, had been going along then for about
twenty years. At this period it was languishing,
because George Power (now Sir George) was giving
up the Secretaryship. Macleay offered it to me,
and I took it like a shot. In fact, the offer came at
a time when I was almost reduced to going back to
work up my coffee estate in Ceylon. The Club pro-
prietor offered me a small salary, but this I promptly
declined, simply remarking that when I asked for
pay, my price would be a big one. And so it
became, for in two years I asked for, and obtained, a
salary of ^650 per annum. I preferred to try and
make the Club a success before asking for anything ;
and, fortunately, a syndicate of men with money was
found, which gave me carte blanche to reconstruct
the social and artistic affairs of the Club in my own
way. I never enjoyed work so much. In a very
little while, on the tide and torrent of fashion at the
Lyric Club, floated the beauty of the time, and
through its lighted avenues at St Anne's and its halls
i73
74 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
in Piccadilly, went Royal Dukes, Ambassadors, and
other leading lights of society, art and culture. Both
places sparkled as did no other centres of amuse-
ment in London in those days. When at its zenith,
four years later, these triumphs suddenly ceased,
and it fell a victim to a great misfortune ; yet the
Lyric Club never descended to the humdrum, never
witnessed the dry rot of mere dullness, never grew
dingy or seedy; nor, it may truly be said, had the
Lyric Club ever a rival during the years of its
glorious existence. Its exclusiveness was guarded
by Lords and Ladies, whose smiles or frowns con-
signed candidates and their guests to happiness or
disappointment.
Diplomatic arts and much finesse were set in
motion to gain membership ; for persons whose rank
and fortunes entitled them to the entree almost any-
where were excluded by the cliquism, if not the
despotism of the Committee. Speaking generally
Club Committees are in effect Courts of Honour —
substitutes for duelling. They visit any grave offence
against Society with penalties quite as severe as the
bullet or the rapier; and (with due respect) much
more severely than the House of Lords. The Lyric
reminded one of Almack's, when the great Duke of
Wellington was refused admission, because he wore
trousers instead of knee breeches.* The Duke, who
had a great respect for order and regulations, quietly
walked away. It has been said that the Lyric
became the paradise of the rich, the purgatory of the
poor, and the hell of the wise. But whether or no
this was mere redundant phrasing, the Club undeni-
* Sir Henry Vavasour tdd me (19 12) he was present at
Almack's when this happened.
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 76
ably throbbed with Hfe in its many phases, of sport,
games, music and the drama, and, with it all, enjoyed
a sense of repose. Jealousies and rivalries did not
exist among the members, for within the fold every-
thing was done con amore. There it was only a
question of give and take, never a question of buy
and sell. That, in a word, was the secret of the
success of a club that naturally produced many
imitators, but certainly no rivals. It died in its
prime, but not before everybody of importance who
shone or twinkled in the firmament of arts or society,
had passed the doors either as member or guest.
Left perfectly free-handed, and given the initiative
to rebuild upon new lines, and with money enough to
work with, nobody could have entirely failed. With
those who. remained of the old Committee, and add-
ing those that were newly chosen, seventeen com-
moners first served the Lyric Club, every one of
whom was subsequently knighted. These were :
Mr Arthur Sullivan
Mr Tosti
Mr Morell MacKenzie
Mr Joseph Barnby
Mr Bancroft
Col. W. H. MacKinnon
Mr Alfred Scott-Gatty
Mr Augustus Harris
Mr A. C. MacKenzie
Mr Beerbohm Tree
Mr George Alexander
Mr Charles Wyndham
Mr Charles Santley
Mr John Stainer
Mr Bridge
Mr Henry Irving
Mr William Court Gully
76 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
I suppose it would be impolite to many of these
deserving knights to compare this with a similar
number of famous Englishmen, who all died in the
Victorian era, without a title amongst them, and
never one of whom received the distinction of burial
in Westminster Abbey. Yet either one of them
would, by assuming the order of knighthood, have
redeemed it from the possible reputation of becom-
ing the Charter of Mediocrity : —
Thackeray
Watts
Herbert Spencer
Turner
Charles Matthews
Tom Hood
Matthew Arnold
Ruskin
Thomas Carlyle
Wordsworth
Keats
John Bright
Shelley
Charles Kean
Kemble
Huxley
Tom Robertson
Gainsborough
I asked the first Lord Londesborough to accept
the Presidency of the Lyric Club. He did so, and
added some twenty more to our Committee. Amongst
them were: Henry Lord Ailesbury, Lord Randolph
Churchill, Lord Hawke, the late Lord de Lisle and
Dudley, Sir John Millais, Mr Sinclair Macleay, Lord
Charles Beresford, Admiral the Hon. A. Denison,
Lord Edward Spencer Churchill and myself. The
Lyric started in its original form before the
BRIEF CHRONICLES OF
W. B. Maxwell.
Maude Valerie White.
Lora Avebury. Arthur Goring Thomas.
H.S H. Prince Alexander of Teck, Right Hon. Henry Labouchere. P.C.
The Archdeacon of London and L.M. " Bob and I."
George Grossmith, Senr.
Hall Caine.
Sir Francis Burnand.
Lord Avebury.
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 77
Bachelors, the WeUington, or the Isthmian, and
surpassed them all in years — ^reaching the ripe age
of twenty-six.
These pages are confined to the episodes of the
last five years of its existence. The fundamental
basis was that of a social mingling with representa-
tives of art and sport. Every Sunday night, and on
alternate Thursdays, dinner invitations were issued
to twenty chosen guests, and on these occasions I
was always requested to take the chair. Selected
from a large number of applications, were members
of the Club who joined in these dinners, members
taking their turns in order of application. Usually
a member of the Committee sat on my left, and the
principal guest on my right. They were all formally
introduced to one another ; and the dinner was the
best that this most up-to-date club could provide.
In these days it was the custom to enter the names
of lady guests, and of the members who brought
them, in a book kept for the purpose in the hall. This
book had become a perfect dustbin for gossip; and
I remember many old scandalmongers scanning the
book for hours daily, to collect what they could, and
take it round the town; so that, in the early days,
it had more than once been the source of family
trouble. I altered this, and initiated the substitution
of slips of paper, upon which guests' names, after
being written, were deposited in a locked box for the
inspection of the Committee only.
At these most carefully selected dinner-parties,
beauty was frequently represented by the actresses
and songstresses of the day; wit and humour, by
well-known social figures, by play-writers, painters
and poets. After dinner we adjourned to the
78 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
beautiful little theatre, in the lower part of the Club
premises, to find it crowded with members, waiting
for the programme which was to follow. Up to
half-past twelve, a constant stream of artistes took
part in the improvised programmes, peculiar to the
Lyric. How many will remember these exception-
ally happy evenings ! " // piu grand ommagia alia
musica sta nel silenzio " was strictly observed.
Only twice, I think, in five years, difficulty arose
from talking among the audience, but in both cases
the concert or play was stopped as a penalty.
At the Lyric Club, social life was lightened and
brightened, and we tried to give to artistes the
genuine happiness they so generously gave to us.
These witty tongues were bridled within the limits
of graceful repartee, and gave a brilliant incarnation
of original and clever thoughts, of polished equi-
voque, camaraderie, and bonhomie. The dinner
and supper-parties with comedies and music to follow
were only part of the Club's attractions, as we gained
quite an historical success in our cricket club,
beating all comers. Let me stop a little and explain
that we were ever searching the historical records of
clubs of the past so as to strike new ground if pos-
sible ; but it is very difficult to create anything new.
Thus in 1798 a social club called the White Conduit,
had already included cricket amongst its attractions.
This was the Marylebone Cricket Club, which
originated at the White Conduit Club, and after one
of its attendants, named Thomas Lord, Lord's
Cricket Ground was named.
Lord Londesborough founded the Lyric Cricket
Club; he had for years entertained the gentlemen
players at Scarborough. Much credit is due to
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 79
Courtenay Welch, who was a splendid Honorary
Secretary. Here are some of our cricket members,
Ivo Bligh (now Lord Darnley)
W. G. Grace
Paravacini
W. W. Read
A. G. Steel
" Buns " Thornton
(who hit a ball over the Pavilio.n and clean out of
the grounds at Lords).
A. J. Webbe
C. W. Wright
Lord Hawke
Sir A. W. L. Hemming
J. W. Dale
A. E. Stoddart
Captain E. G. Wynyard
C. W. Allcock
Bromley Davenport
Captain Bambury
S. Eustace Forster
J. W. H. Gully
J. H. Hornsby
W. C. Kemp
C. P. Roller
W. E. Roller
F. W. Thomas
J. G. Walker
Lionel Arbuthnot
C. M. Tuke
G. H. Wood
Sir Timothy O'Brien
This list included the best cricketers in England
at the time, and it created no surprise when we beat
the best Austrahan team that ever tried conclusions
80 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
with England. The cost of this match was jC6S7,
and the gate money was ;^33o.
Lawn tennis was largely in evidence also ; but I
do not think we can talk very big of our tennis
achievements, none of our members having made
any show against the great amateurs of the day.
Football was played in our grounds ; the Army Final
was once fought there before twelve thousand people.
The Duke of Cambridge then presented the prize,
and sent me a charming letter with a signed
photograph as a souvenir.
Our next endeavour was to strike an original line
as an appendage to our winter evenings at the Club ;
I searched out that most popular of men, Cecil Clay
at the Portland, and conferred with him about whist.
He took me to the Cavendish Club, and introduced
me to Mr Henry Jones (Cavendish) who made me
an honorary member, which I much appreciated.
I wanted to come to some arrangement with him to
secure his assistance, but this was promptly " clo-
tured " by our Committee. After learning one or
two things, I looked farther afield for some other
sporting coterie to affiliate with our Club. But first
a word about Cecil.
He was, as everybody knows, the brother of
Frederic Clay, the composer of " I'll sing thee
songs of Araby," and the son of J. Clay, M.P., per-
haps the best whist-player of his time.
Cecil told me that this was the origin of short whist.
A friend of the elder Clay having lost heavily,
they proposed to make the game five points instead
of ten, in order to give the loser a chance by a quicker
game to recover his loss, and that ended long whist.
Whist, however, practically went out when bridge
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 81
came in. " Cavendish " was a greater authority than
his father but not so good a player. He told me
that as a child he once asked his father why he played
a certain card. The reply was:
" Because nobody but a d d fool could do
otherwise my boy."
And this was the only lesson his father ever gave
him, said Cavendish.
From the four-handed I tried to develop the " four-
in-hand " ; many of our members were keen on this.
I pictured our members in my mind's eye like
worthy young Ackers in 1789: a young blood who
had one of his front teeth removed in order that he
might acquire the true coachman-like way of spitting.
I thought, too, that the revival of the gentlemen high-
waymen might also be interesting as rich members
bounded and abounded in the Club.
Timbs in his " Curiosities " tells of a young scion
of a great race waking up from a feigned sleep in
which he was really watching his friend winning.
He got up, yawned, stretched himself, said good
night to his friends, went out, and waylaid his chum
in the Park. He robbed him of every sou, returned
to his club with the spoils, and gambled away his
ill-gotten money with another chum within an hour.
Timbs also says that John Cottington, gentleman
highwayman, picked the pockets of Oliver Cromwell
and Charles H. But somehow our times did not fit
in with these exciting exploits ; the parks are too well
lighted, the roads are too well kept, and maybe even
human nature has undergone some change. Anyway
the Committee snubbed my suggestions of gentleman
footpads and club gambling.
At that time Sandow made his entrance into the
F
82 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
sporting world and showed his strength at a Matinee
d'Invitation in our little Club Theatre. A new idea
at last! but no. I found that in 1789 Shadbolt ran
and pushed a cart twenty-one miles in six hours ; and
in 1737 Cobham, a carpenter at a private Social Club,
took an iron kitchen poker, one yard long and three
inches round, and bent it by striking it upon his bare
left arm. He also lifted eighteen hundred pounds
off the ground and pulled against a horse. At least
one reads these things were done in the presence
of Admiral Vernon and an audience of the Bucks of
the day in full dress of rich brocade. And who does
not remember Tom Connolly, of our own day, who
rode forty-two miles in one hour and forty-four
minutes on eight hunters ? A feat of impudence was
performed by an ancestor of my wife, Buck English,
who threw a waiter out of the window and desired
him to be charged for in the bill.
And so, to return to the Club ; we had hoped to
originate, but only revived the Strong Man Craze.
Sandow is of our time, and goes down to posterity
in a plaster cast at the Natural History Museum as
the finest physical specimen of all time ; so a few
lines about him may not be void of interest.
Major Barlow, R.A., received a wire from a friend,
Aubrey Hunt, in Germany in 1889 urging him to
bring Sandow over to London to meet a strong man
named Sampson, then appearing at the Aquarium
Theatre, since owned by Mrs Langtry.
Sandow beat Sampson, but when he claimed the
prize of ;^iooo, had to accept ;^35o. All this
created a sensation in the sporting world, and that
night we took Sandow off to the Lyric Club, and
in the cabin-room he went through his parlour tricks.
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 83
Little light kittenish touches such as lifting Gus.
Harris with one arm, tearing a pack of cards into
four, and other displays, induced us there and then
to engage him at ^loo a week, for twenty-six weeks.
Harris, Macleay, Pape, Barlow and I were mem-
bers of the Syndicate, and Barker (I think Granville
Barker's father) was manager. Soon Sandow ap-
peared at the Alhambra for ^150 a week.
He lifted two hundred and eighty pounds with one
hand, and two hundred and twenty pounds with the
other. Sandow's marvellous career belongs to the
world. He was from the first a splendid fellow, full
of heart, and possessing a considerable share of
business acumen. To-day he has given up enter-
taining, and reigns an unchallenged authority upon
physical development, cocoa, and staunch friendship.
We had a great night when he opened his con-
quests at the Alhambra. Schlagg's oyster-shop was
the scene. Mrs Schlagg served the supper, and
Miss Schlagg the beer. Sandow had engaged a
German Band which was meant as a delightful
surprise for us. About twenty sat down to supper.
They included Edward Fairfield, C.B., of the Colonial
Office ; two ex-Lord Mayors ; Sir Reginald Hanson,
a city dignitary; Charlie Murdoch, C.B., permanent
Under-Secretary of State for the Home Office ; a
German Officer great on calisthenics ; Major Barlow,
R.A., a naval chaplain ; Aubrey Hunt, a well-known
portrait painter; Clement Ritchie, one of my oldest
friends, and a lady model, who was also a model lady.
Eugen had finished his speech, and the German
Officer was just commencing his reply in German,
when crash went the door and there entered a police
officer in plain clothes and four constables. Sandow
84 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
at once got to grips with these Hmbs of the law, in
fact closed with the Inspector who was puffing and
getting blue. Murdoch got out of a small window
and lowered himself by the water-pipe into the area.
The naval chaplain closed his eyes and silently moved
his lips. The model lady, who was also a lady
model, shrieked. The rest of us were more or less
entwined around Sandow.
After repairing the damaged Inspector we were
arranged in serried ranks in the little oyster-shop
and ordered to march to Vine Street, that pleasant
little by-path off Piccadilly, previously referred to.
The Inspector listened to my reasoning. I explained
that two offenders were ex-principal magistrates of
the village of London-on-Thames, and also that the
Head of the Criminal Department was willing to
offer me as security, for future good behaviour. So
I was accepted as bail, and alone marched off,
followed by a crowd of jeering odds and ends.
The next day there was a short paragraph in the
papers telling how sixteen men and a woman were
fined for music and drinking after hours without a
licence.
I complained to my companions the next day — of
what I had endured — pohce court indignities etc.,
but they only said you need not complain — we
reached home.
Stories about Sandow would half fill this book.
I keep them in reserve together with some five-
hundred Press flatteries as evidence in chief of the
virile chronicles of the Lyric Club.
Continuing to search for new sensations and to
make the Lyric Club a diving board for trial trips
into amateur sport we registered a distinct score. It
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 85
was at the Club that Col. Gouraud — afterwards King
of the Sahara desert! — gave the first demonstration
of the phonograph, recording a speech by Lord
Londesborough, and a song by me !
During that same week the little lady who defied
the laws of gravitation by lifting old gentlemen on
chairs with her thumbs, passed the jurisdiction of a
Committee of the Club experts. The living-picture
craze was also initiated at the Lyric in the representa-
tion of Armand Sylvestre's " Poemes d' Amour " in
tableaux vivants. Then there came the latest and
most startling demonstration of mesmeric power,
and scores of new sensations were the curtain raisers
to some forty original plays and operettas produced
before 1895. Everything, as I said, was done for
nothing. The subscriptions and entrance fees of
members touched ;^i 3,000 one year, and this met
our incidental expenses and paid off the building
debts.
Every year the Lyric chartered a couple of special
steamers, starting from Westminster Pier in the
early morning for our Club-house at Barnes. These
boats took many guests and members to witness the
Oxford and Cambridge Boat-race, and to meet the
Oxford crews who lived at the Club and trained there
for two years. The Club guests on the boats
included many distinguished persons and numbered
two hundred, the musical and dramatic artistes
exceeding one hundred. Certainly had any disaster
overtaken these steamers, not a single theatre in
London could have fulfilled its engagement the
nights of the boat-race. Lord and Lady Londes-
borough were host and hostess, and everything that
kindness and forethought could do they did.
86 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
Amongst many happy recollections, few are richer
in downright pleasure than the five years I acted as
their lieutenant in the responsibility of carrying out
these continuous revels till we revelled out of
existence in 1894. If such things as " jealousies "
or " feelings " ever did exist in the daily round or
common task, truly I never saw any of it at the Lyric.
This may appear unnecessary to mention, but I
think it proves that the conditions differed from the
lines that usually govern Bohemia. Neither the
cynic nor the dandy whispered about manners or
about the cut of a coat, or the uncut of the hair in
our Bohemian Dovecot. The host and hostess who
presided quickly saw to it that every guest was set
at ease.
The Club was conducted upon the rules of the
Lord Chamberlain's Department ; and the wives of
members had to be eligible for presentation at Her
Majesty's Drawing-Room. It may sound preten-
tious for a club to boast of its exclusiveness, but this
club was neither pretentious nor boastful.
Success was attained by the minghng of Art and
Class and by knowing and rigidly pursuing a very
definite policy. Most fortunately, we had in our
chairman the right man, and we may thank our lucky
stars for this. That many were the difficulties that
we had to encounter, will be understood merely by
mentioning that there were twelve hundred members
who had the right to introduce lady guests. There
were three Committees and two Club-houses; art
and sport were in perpetual display, while thirty
members and fifty-six servants resided on the
premises. The least experienced must see that to
have left the slightest detail to chance would have
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 87
affected its course unfavourably. None but the
best heart and head could possibly have fused
together these extremes.
To turn aside for a moment to some modern clubs
which are successful to-day, through good manage-
ment. The Bath Club is guided by one of the finest
all-round sportsman of his time, who played cricket
for Harrow, ran and rowed for Oxford, has chmbed
in the Alps, has shot in many parts of the world, has
twice swam across Niagara, stroked an eight across
the Channel, has held the punting championship
for three years, and won the epee prize at the
Military Tournament in 1904-6. He is now
Lord Desborough, but will ever be remembered as
" WiUie " Grenfell. Other clubs flattering the Lyric
by sincere imitation spread their tentacles for any
passing vogue. Neither stradium nor radium ex-
isted in the days to which I return. Assuming that
quite a number remember and would wish to finish
the story of what may appear to a younger generation
nothing but a catalogue of events passed out of date
and interest. Ascot and Lords were the centres of
hospitality to thousands of Lyric guests. At the
latter we took the secretary's house opening out on
to the grounds ; there we lunched yearly and wit-
nessed from coaches of members the Eton and
Harrow, and the Oxford and Cambridge matches.
But at Ascot we went one better. Thanks to my
never forgotten friend Major Clement, Clerk of the
course and a dozen other things, we had lent
to us space next to the Guards for our tent,
and for three coaches at the top of the line next
the Coaching Club, and all these were kept for
Club guests, many of them beautiful enough to
88 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
please the most fastidious, and to cause quite a
sensation amongst those who only knew them on
the stage. The Committee were nervous about this
undertaking and only let me go ahead at Ascot
provided I took all risks, which I did, and then and
there initiated the Club luncheon tents at Ascot.
There were only three club tents when I started
the Lyric, but there were forty-seven last year. I
made quite a good thing out of it from every point
of view, for calculating over five years the average
luncheons per year numbered nine hundred and ten.
I generally lunched myself as a guest at the Guards'
tent, and two years running met King Edward there,
who most graciously remembered me. Clement
gave me the run of the Royal Enclosure and
Paddock, and his private box and room behind the
box, where I lunched sometimes with the magistrate
who tried cases of urgency on the spot. And now
for a moment to generalities.
The conditions and definitions of Society's exacti-
tude change so rapidly that episodes of interest to-
day may be stale to-morrow, and nothing of interest
has any abiding place. Imagine amidst these rapid
changes having out qf deference to Sabbatarian
influence to decline the priceless gift of principal's,
orchestra and chorus's services from Coven| Garden
Theatre. Yet, after thirty-seven varied productions
of comedies and operas on Sundays, we did bow to
Sabbatarian feeling and ceased for a time. Social
London on Sunday fell very flat in consequence, for
the Lyric example was very powerful to encourage
or suppress this Sabbatarian feeling. Henceforth
the venue lay with the people, and musical and
dramatic entertainments on Sunday were re-intro-
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 89
duced through the medium of hotels and stage
societies, or on a much broader scale at music halls.
It is conceivable that club privilege was being
attacked, rather than Sabbatarian principals pro-
tected.
Anyway our club scenes came to an end, and
to-day they live only in the memory of a past
generation. Nothing at all like it has been repeated,
and with the motor and hotel movements came an
altogether new and more democratic state of things.
The social severity in those days was tremendous.
To-day, twenty years later, witnesses a great
change. Our politicians set the clock. Patrician
ladies are announced to dive and swim alike in clubs
or music halls. They dance almost naked and
quite unashamed and call it the cause of charity!
It is true that, in spite of the scorn of his wife,
David danced before the ark with all his might, but
this was his means of demonstrating religious fervour.
All this may be sorry subject matter for jest, for in
the serious light of to-day these antics are an outrage
upon more than art. Ladies, I don't refer to any
one, there are many who vaunt their uncovered
bodies upon placards, and in papers, who have not
even the bare excuse of rivalling in art the women
they emulate. They paraphrase a well-known motto,
for their art is truly the disguise of art, and it
blushes at their pretences. Madness or bhndness
is this Nero fiddling, but it cannot be passed over
as merely whimsical. History is ever repeating
itself, and one may both see and hear more distinctly
everywhere signs of the latter days of Louis XVI.
Since I commenced these memoirs a great member
of the old Lyric has passed away, one who was
90 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
little known outside his circuit when I first met him.
He died Lord Selby, a Gladstonian Liberal chosen
by a Conservative Government as Speaker, and
proved himself equal to any of the illustrious line
of First Commoners. He was proposed for the
post that he held with much distinction — merely in
jest.
Upon the retirement of Mr Speaker Peel in
April, 1895, Mr Gully, to everyone's surprise, was
adopted as the Government nominee for the chair.
The circumstances of his election were remarkable
in many ways. He had the almost unique distinction
of being chosen to the Speakership of the Commons
by a very narrow party majority.
When the vacancy occurred there was no thought
of Mr Gully. The Government desired to nominate
Mr Leonard Courtney in the first instance, but the
Radicals, led by Mr Labouchere and the extreme
Irish Section, were hostile, and Mr Courtney re-
fused to stand unless the choice of the House was
unanimous.
Then the Unionists suggested that Sir Henry
Campbell Bannerman would be acceptable to their
side of the House, but the Secretary for War,
although the Speakership had been his ambition,
could not be spared by the Government, and it
was, moreover, contrary to precedent, for a Cabinet
Minister to accede to the chair. Failing to force
that o-entleman on the House, the Unionists then
brought forward Sir Matthew White Ridley as a
suitable candidate ; but the Government, unwilling to
give up the privilege of the majority in nominating
a candidate, fell back upon Mr Gully.
Mr Gully possessed the far-seeing essential quali-
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 91
ties of frank politeness and winning kindness. Mere
amiability or uncomplaining endurance are not
enough to win undisputed leadership, nor is undis-
guised boredom. He had much greater gifts and
conducted life on the give-and-take principle.
Speaking for myself, when I was worried, he came
as a friend, not too busy to advise, whilst I held the
difficult position of Receiver for the Court at the time
of the Club's dissolution as well as Secretary and
Manager. In all this he helped me to the very last
moment of the Lyric Club's affairs. I did all I could
to resuscitate its fallen glory, but it was a sheer
impossibility. The only monetary asset was the
lease of the building which had been mortgaged to
a bank. Whatever else might be thought to be
assets had merely sentimental value, the goodwill of
artistes, and the social support of members; but a
club is like a delicate flower or a reputation, it dies if
it is blown upon. How could one ask members who
had already paid their subscriptions in advance, to
take over the encumbrance of a mortgage and to pay
the tradesmen's debts?
Together with all sentiment, the ashes of the Club
crumbled to pieces. The members signified their
resignation in a body, the Committees resigned, and
I was left alone to wrestle with difficulties I could not
overcome, for the spirit of the Club was already de-
parted ; its proud boast of exclusiveness, lacking the
support of reputation, was dead.
So one afternoon after getting a chemist to destroy
the Club cats, I turned the key, and took it to the
Court or to the nlortgagees, I forget which, but there
was absolutely nothing else to do. All that remained
was the goodwill of the artistes; the after-math or
92 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
second mowing of this wonderful crop belonged, not
to the Club as an institution, but to any man who
could hold it ; therefore I, having created it, renewed
my bid and asked the artistes to follow me in any
new venture — they have ungrudgingly responded and
given me their unanimous support up to the date of
my writing. All the Committee, without exception,
trusted and honoured me with their close friendship.
I felt pleasure in knowing them as equals, and I felt
pride in acknowledging them as superiors. And this
was my stock-in-trade when the Lyric closed.
The following much-treasured contribution to my
chronicle of friendships came on February 14th, 191 2,
from Edith, Countess of Londesborough :
" We must ever be friends
And of all who
Offer you friendship
Let me be ever the first."
— Edith Londesborough
(1884-1912).
J-C-^,.^ /vi ■ /i-^^ '<-///<
The Duke of Rutland.
Marie Corelli.
Adelina Patti.
General Sir Bindon Blood, G.C.B
Sir Charles Wvndham.
Miss Braddon "(Mrs. Maxwell).
BRIEF CHRONICLES OF
Sir Arthur Wing Pinero.
Madge Kendal (Mrs. W. H. Grimston).
Mr. Speaker Gully.
Brigr.-Genl. Count Gleichen, K.C.V.O.
C.M.G., D.S.O., C.B.
A RECORD OF THE OLD LYRIC CLUB
To the Secretary : Mr LUTHER MUNDAY,
WHO, between 1887 and 1893 organized for the Club
one hundred and eighty-two Musical Entertainments,
and by his personal influence won the gratuitous
support of Six hundred and eighty Leading Artists of
the Musical and Dramatic Profession.
HE also produced forty-three Plays and founded an
Amateur Orchestral Society of Sixty Members.
IN 1892 the Lyric Cricket Club played many Matches in
the Club grounds at Barnes, and amongst other vic-
tories may be recorded that over the famous Austra-
lian Eleven.
IN 1892 the Army Football Association played their final
tie at the Club grounds.
THE Oxford Eight defeated Cambridge in the year 1890
and 1892, and resided at the Club-house during their
training.
FOR four years the Club enclosures at Ascot and Lords
were the centre of hospitality to thousands of Mem-
bers and Guests.
IN 1893 the Club was wrecked by misfortune, but many
desire that the memories of days that are gone should
be recorded in this form and given as a Memento to
one whose pluck and tact made for the Lyric an
indelible mark in Club history.
[^Signed'\ Londesborough (Chairman)
Edward Spencer Henry Irving
Churchill Arthur Sullivan
SufEeld Rutland Barrington
Dorchester Joseph Barnby
Ailesbury Herbt. Beerbohm Tree
Clement Ritchie John Stainer
Arthur W. Hill George Alexander
Julian Goldsmid George Grossmith
Harry Thynne Charles Wyndham
Shaftesbury Augustus Harris
93
CHAPTER VII
Critics — Oscar Wilde— H. M. Stanley— Self-made Men — Travel-
lers — Cecil Rhodes — Lord Coleridge and the Jury — Sir
George Lewis — Ping-pong — Lord Russell.
" A man must serve his time at every trade
Save censure; critics all are ready made."
— Byron.
English critics call a man great, and then proceed
to prove in detail why he is not. A public person,
that is, a person who appeals to the public by selling
his talent in whatever form, must be criticised ; there
is no short cut to immunity from criticism except
oblivion. From the following letter it might seem
that I had already rendered myself subject to the
critic's pen:—
" Dear Munday, — You must have written some-
thing? Do you care to join the Authors' Club?
" Yours sincerely,
" Oswald Crawford."
I answered boldly but regretfully : —
" Dear Crawford, — I have written nothing yet
except my name, and of this, alas! I am not the
author; but if you want authors, I know a lady
novelist who wrote a book of such a nature that her
94
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 95
mother forbade her to read it. Shall I send her
along?"
My outer brain crust was gradually being broken
by contact with minds that raised one out of dull
content to higher ambition. A round of visits con-
firmed this. First to Juliana Horatio Ewing, ever
remembered by her wonderful children's story books,
and my Ceylon friend, Major Ewing, who wrote
" Jerusalem the Golden."
They lived at Taunton, and I remember going
to a military funeral with Ewing when the chief
mourner, who was following the procession, was
killed before our eyes by a runaway horse.
From the Ewings we went to the Pitney Martins,
and then to stay with Mrs Maxwell (Miss Braddon)
in the New Forest, when Willie (W. B. Maxwell)
was a very small boy. She was the most copious
writer of fiction in England, and is distinguished by
her books, which are still looked for every year.
" Lady Audley's Secret " has been acted for more
than twenty-five years. Truly is Miss Braddon a
remarkable woman, whose gentle personality and
great talent one is glad to find inherited by her
family. Her son, W. B. Maxwell, twice wrote
the novel of the year, and Gerald made a fine
speech from the chair when we welcomed Kitchener
home at the Drury Lane Lodge, of which I was
then a member. I was installed by Bancroft and
proposed and seconded by Lord Londesborough
and Gus Harris.
Lady Wilde lived opposite our lodgings in
Park Street where we lived in those days.
Meeting her at Mrs Dallas Glyn's in Mount
96 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
Street (where I first met Willie and Oscar, her
sons), Lady Wilde told the assembled guests,
not in a whisper either, that, in her intense desire
for a daughter, she thought and willed incessantly.
Further that, to compensate for her bitter disappoint-
ment when Oscar was born, she treated him for ten
whole years as if he had been her daughter, carrying
out this treatment in every detail of dress, habit, and
companions. So it becomes evident that, in addition
to the condition under which he saw the light, this
unfortunate and self-sufficient genius was sent to
school abnormally developed in mind, and instead
of being a normal healthy man, he resembled a
neurotic woman. It is a pathological fact, that the
young in whom mental aberrations are discerned are
usually more mature in mental receptivity and are
not normal minded. Neurotic imagination is stimu-
lated by reading Greek tragedies and the Latin poets.
Parents unwittingly make their children familiar with
the men and women of antiquity, and this is called
reading the classics, but to translate these stories
into modern English were unthinkable. Though I
knew Oscar Wilde at the Lyric Club, I can add
Httle lustre to his meteoric flash through London.
His tourneys of repartee were tilted at Whistler
and many other clever men at the Lyric in my
hearing almost daily and for years. I regret now
I never made a note at the time of many of his
flashes of wit, his brilliant sayings, which went
unrecorded.
Dr Garnett, on hearing of Wilde's death, said
gravely, " This is the death-blow to English poetry,
because it will cast odium upon the Pre-Raphaelites."
I myself remember meeting a new poet almost every
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 97
week ; but certainly the habit of reading poetry has
almost died out, and poets seem as rare to-day as
beaux and dandies.
Oscar's brother WilHe I liked. He was impulsive,
slovenly in his person and dress, generous, witty,
kindhearted to a fault, unconventional and full of
courtesy, a stranger to all pedantry and posing,
changeable, quick-tempered, and a born journalist.
Willie used often to sit until the last minute with
his pals round the fire, often at some night club, and
then get up and rush away to write his leader; the
subject (we sometimes suggested it) appeared in the
Telegraph only a few hours later. Writing came to
him quite naturally, as it did to hosts of friends,
J. S. Wood, Mrs Williamson, " Helen Mathers,"
" Frank Danby " and her sister, the Egerton Castles,
Madame Albanesi, and to T. P. O'Connor, that lov-
able Irishman whose political opinions I hate. At the
Owls Club one night George (now Sir George)
Power asked Willie to write a couplet as a motto for
the Club. He wrote this in a minute:
" We fly by night, and this resolve we make,
If the dawn must break, let the d d thing break."
To return to Oscar ; he was rather superior in his
manner to Willie, whose range of temperament and
style was so very different. Oscar was essentially a
foseur \ every sentence he uttered told of studied
spontaneity. Edmund Yates it was who first called
him a genius, and engaged him for a long time to
work on the World (Labouchere, too, first wrote for
the World). Max Beerbohm, I think it was, who
said, " Wilde came of a nation of brilliant failures,
the Irish, who are too poetical to be poets." But
G
98 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
even if one could recall Oscar Wilde's quips and
silly vanities, they would require him to say them.
He paid ten shillings and sixpence a day for his
buttonhole, and two shillings and sixpence for
another sprig for his cabman, whom he engaged by
the day. He said of Whistler that, " he had no
enemies, but was intensely disliked by his friends."
Of Hall Caine that " he wrote at the top of his voice."
Of Rudyard Kipling that " he revealed hfe by splen-
did flashes of vulgarity." Of Henry James that " he
wrote fiction as if it were a painful duty," and of
Marion Crawford that " he immolated himself on the
altar of local colour." His most unpleasant sayings
were accompanied by a pleasing laugh, and always
voiced in studied melody. I never remember during
three years, where his daily sayings rippled forth at
the Lyric, that he uttered a word that I could not
reproduce in these memoirs. To a large extent they
were wasted upon us, and it strikes me to-day as
very strange that his conversation evoked so little
response, considering that his plays stand revival so
well. He was perhaps more a master of monologue
than conversation. To him was recently accredited
the authorship of some of the most remarkable verses
of the nineteenth century. Someone described
Whistler as a prophet who liked to play pierrot, and
Wilde as a pierrot who liked to play the prophet.
Both Willie and Oscar died young, as age counts
to-day, but Oscar's works survive.
To MY FRIEND, LUTHER MUNDAY.
" The Thames nocturne of blue and gold,
Changed to a harmony in grey;
A barge with ochre coloured hay
Stirred from the wharf : and chill and cold
' X. ^ /^ «^ ^ O -^-^ ^--v V^ =^
e^5 u-j 6^-'-^ , -^^ ^„.^ ^ S/-0
0-7 c -^
^7/
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 99
A yellow fog came creeping down
The river, till the house's walls
Became like shadows, and St Paul's
Loomed, a great bubble, o'er the town.
And one pale woman, all alone.
The daylight kissing her wan hair,
Loitered beneath the gas lamps flare.
With lips of flame and heart of stone."
Oscar Wilde.
January, 1891.
I first met H. M. Stanley, the explorer, at his
wedding. He married a cousin of my wife's, Miss
Tennant, a beautiful woman, and a distinguished
artiste. I never lessened in my admiration of Stanley
as a heroic child of Nature. What is more, he liked
me too, and showed it by coming to our Httle house
in Park Row, Knightsbridge. There I came in
touch with the inner man. He stands out in my mind
as a companionable, sympathetic friend; yes, I can
say friend, for he sought me, I was too shy to go to
him unasked or to invite him to come to me. Per-
haps in all hterature there can be few more pathetic
and more profoundly interesting impressions of youth
than those recorded in Stanley's life. Fatherless,
spurned by his mother, the boy grew up and suffered
in the workhouse, until one day the spirit within him
revolted; he turned upon his tormentor. A lucky
kick smashed the schoolmaster's spectacles ; and then
the lad thrashed the tyrant with the blackthorn with
which he had himself been threatened. Stanley fled,
and from that moment became a waif in the world.
He went to sea, and learnt to love it; settled in
America, went through the American War, and then
began his extraordinary life of adventure, explora-
100 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
tion, and ceaseless battle. Stanley was refused
burial in Westminster Abbey! We are strange
people. Raleigh spent many years in gaol! The
country which left Burton to eat out his heart in a
second-rate consulship, never seemed to know what
to do with Gordon, and still refuses to Byron a place
in the Abbey; withheld from Stanley that which it
accorded to Livingstone. Stanley, who made the
map of modern Africa, who discovered and founded
the Congo State, whose whole life was one superb
achievement, comparable only with the voyages of
the great Portuguese sailors, has been accorded no
great national memorial. Life is so full of interest,
so pregnant with thoughts, opinions, and flashes of
character, that one can chronicle a few of the im-
pressions it evokes. The account of Stanley's inter-
view with King Leopold is profoundly interesting.
Unlike Gladstone, King Leopold saw that Stanley
was no ordinary man. He reaHsed at once the
stupendous wealth of the newly-explored Congo
country. He induced Stanley to found the Congo
State. Thus has it come about to-day that the world
looks on aghast at the fearful cruelties practised by
the Belgians in those parts which Stanley discovered,
offered, and did all he could to give to England;
which even yet may be compelled to intervene, if
only for the honour of humanity.
By England's callousness and puny statesmanship,
then, we lost the whole of the present Congo Free
State and the monopoly of the Congo Railway, now
one of the most profitable in the world. We gave to
Germany what has now become German East Africa,
all territory explored and opened up to commerce by
British explorers, by Livingstone, Burton, Speke,
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 101
and Stanley! And we stood about the same chance
of losing Canada till quite recently, as we did
America. No wonder Stanley, the man who did
things, felt himself outraged at the jibes and mali-
cious imputations cast, by men who had never been
out of England, upon his honour, his veracity, his
very humanity.
For sheer interest, his account of his passage down
the Congo through the great virgin forests is perhaps
unequalled in fiction. Every day he was attacked
by savages, and yet when he returned, Exeter Hall
raised a puling cry about Stanley's inhumanities.
Stanley, the man who was known in all Africa as
" the breaker of rocks," needs no arm-chair testi-
monials. What he did lives to-day above all criti-
cism, lives imperishably associated with the name of
Great Britain. He was hard, no doubt; entirely
self-centred, indomitable alike in aim and endeavour.
Stanley as he knew himself, so he dehberately wished
himself to be known.
I was always fond of reading about self-made men,
and I recommend any boy to read how an English-
man, Adrian, who was dependent upon charity,
became Pope; how Basil I., a slave, became Em-
peror of Constantinople ; how Rienzi, the son of a
washerwoman, was solemnly crowned at Rome ; how
Ximenes, son of a peasant, became Prime Minister
of Spain ; how Wolsey, the son of a butcher, became
Cardinal and Prime Minister; how Cromwell, the
son of a blacksmith, became Chancellor of the Ex-
chequer; how Franklin, a journeyman printer,
became Legislator and Philosopher ; how Bernadotte,
a private soldier, rose to be King of Sweden; and
how England treats her heroes. England ruled
102 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
to-day by forces greedy for power and ;^400 a year,
the " Mediocracy."
That most gallant officer, and prince of good
fellows. Major Besant, introduced me to F. C.
Selous, who is celebrated as a great lion-hunter. On
the one occasion that we met, I took his friend to be
him, which led to complications. I thought the idea
worth repeating ; so one evening I introduced Major
Barter to my friends as Eugene Sandow, and Sandow
as a missionary. They all got very muddled, but
matters were straightened by Sandow grasping
Barter's ankle and slowly placing him on the table,
as one would a piece of delicate china. If, however,
the reader contemplates trying to repeat this feat,
it would be better to rehearse it in private, as it is
somewhat difficult to keep stiff when being lifted up
by the ankle.
I knew Major Barter through his bringing me a
message of thanks from the Emperor of Germany's
staff officers, who were on a visit to England, as I
had helped show them round. In return for this
gracious message, I sent the Emperor my drawing
of His Imperial Majesty, which I venture to repro-
duce here.
Of travellers I have known many, among them
Lord Dunmore, a good Christian Scientist, and
Harry de Windt, who, like A. E. Jessup, the late
Percy ffrench, Andrew Haggard, and Gussy Loftus,
used suddenly to spring into our midst from the
uttermost ends of the earth. Thence they returned
always radiant, like live sparks blown by the wind
upon combustible matter, to kindle anew the flame
of good fellowship in our circle.
I was a pall-bearer at the funeral of another great
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 103
traveller, Captain A. I. Mounteney-Jephson of
African fame. Stanley's appreciation recorded to
his lieutenant was fully borne out in the opinion of
those who knew him, as I did all through his Ufe's
varied successes, chastened with suffering. His last
days, however, were exceedingly happy in the de-
votion of his wife and his son. The Geographical
Society paid him honour, and Lady Stanley and
little Stanley were present at the closing scene to
pay affectionate tribute to a brave member of the
Stanley Expedition. The last explorer whom I can
recall is that colossal empire builder, Cecil Rhodes.
I first met him at George Cawston's, and afterwards
at a little dinner-party of six, given by Sir James
Maitland at the Bristol Hotel. A big expressionless
face showed a mind naturally secretive, or tem-
porarily bored. Obviously in earnest in all that he
undertook, on this occasion his mind seemed con-
centrated upon eating a dinner which lasted for three
hours. The conversation that accompanied our
eating was mostly about finance. I must own that
it was a disappointing pleasure, leaving me little to
tell except that I had twice dined with Cecil Rhodes,
to the tune of his desultory remarks upon gener-
alities. He gave me his signed picture, which I
treasure. Thus writes Kiphng of Rhodes:
" There, till the vision he foresaw,
Splendid and whole arise,
And unimagined Empires draw
To council neath his skies,
The immense and brooding spirit still,
Shall quicken and control,
Living he was the land, and dead
His soul shall be her soul! "
104 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
" I have sometimes thought," says Sir J. E. Fuller,
" that if there be anything of the Eastern dream of
re-incarnation which shall renew and satisfy the
nascent passions and desires of a probationary life,
he shall surely reappear when all his dreams are
realised and his schemes completed, as the ' over-
lord ' of a new Africa bearing in its ripened civilisa-
tion the impress of his genius in Rhodesia, a place
three times as big as France. ' Si Monumentum
requiris circumspice.' "
About this time I was foreman of a jury before
Lord Coleridge, the principal magistrate of the
Queen's Bench Division, or to give him the higher-
sounding title, which he invented. Lord Chief Justice
of England. Striking in appearance, he embodied
the refinement of subtlety, which he used with great
fascination in manner and voice. The jury failing to
agree upon the verdict, I announced this. There-
upon the senior magistrate left the bench, or whatever
you call it, and walked up to the jury box. With
his suaviter in mo do and exaggerated courtesy, he
began to flatter us all, and me in particular, upon
our extreme wisdom.
Affecting great humility he deprecated his own
views, but in about ten minutes we were completely
mesmerised into a unanimous verdict. I cannot for-
get how cleverly Lord Coleridge persuaded me by
his magnificence of manner.
His son Stephen has the same gift, and Gilbert
also to some extent. The former influenced me in
exactly the same way to take up his cudgels at an
annual meeting of the S.P.C.A. He mesmerised me
into making a creditable little speech supporting his
anti-vivisection hobby. Upon that occasion we got
CHKONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 105
our motion carried. The while I felt creeping over
me for the first time admiration of this mesmeric
power, this influencing of a minority till it became a
majority, this Coleridge doggedness of resolution
clothed in the suavity of flattering rhetoric.
Soon after I interviewed the late Sir George
Lewis, or rather he subpoenaed me to give evidence.
My interview ended amusingly, he telling me that
a clergyman, a lawyer, or an impresario was a
privileged being, because by the " virtues " of their
respective callings they were entitled to go where
others ought not to go. I have never felt quite sure
whether I ought to feel superior or ashamed about
this. I think at the time I felt rather vain about it,
because it gave me a privilege over bankers and
city magnates who uphold trustworthy positions.
I had often observed that lack of this freedom
made such men think twice before being seen at a
music hall or even at night clubs. They wouldn't
buy hot chestnuts at street corners without carefully
looking up and down the street. It wants great
qualities or very mean ones to crush convention.
That great soul, William Ewart Gladstone, was
traduced by his political enemies, because in the face
of the unwritten law of convention he was seen trying
to reform a lady in the Burlington Arcade in the
broad daylight. The broad daylight was considered
a special aggravation of the offence. Lord Palmer-
ston was accused and ^20,000 claimed upon no
evidence but a scandalous rumour. If I had been
a lady I am afraid I should have greatly erred for
the pleasure of being reformed by Gladstone or
P aimer ston.
A horrid game called " Ping-Pong " came in about
106 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
then, and was taught me by four players: Lady
Diana Huddlestone, Mrs George Salting, Lady
Dorothy Nevill, and Hamilton Aide. They missed
almost every stroke, and one had to crawl on the
floor under furniture to find the little celluloid balls.
This occupation was trying, as my figure resembled
a turbot standing on its tail. The game gave me the
opportunity of often meeting Mr Salting, whose
phenomenal gifts to the British and South Kensing-
ton Museums and to the National Gallery caused
such a sensation. It seems sad that one should die
without knowing of a nation's gratitude! With all
his generosity Mr Salting had a real horror of waste.
One night I was in the smoking-room at the Con-
servative Club with a friend. It was very late,
when Mr Salting walked in and dehberately turned
out all the spare electric lights. There was a great
to-do, and letters of complaint were sent to the Club
Committee.
Upon the occasion of Tree's first departure to
America I met Lord Russell of Killowen. Comyns
Carr, Cecil Clay, and I were organising a large
dinner to mark the event, and we decided to ask
Lord Russell to take the chair. Time being of
consequence, I went to the Law Courts and handed
up a piece of paper on which I had written, asking
the Chief to nod his decision. He was in the act of
summing up something intricate and complicated,
but he quietly blew his nose, read the question, and
nodded " Yes," but never stopped his speech. Lord
Palmerston said that in selecting a judge, he should
choose a gentleman, and if that gentleman knew a
little law, so much the better. Russell, though often
cross-tempered, was both a lawyer and a gentleman.
CHAPTER VIII
Clubs and Club Stories— Some Things Theatrical— Sir Charles
Wyndham — Sir Herbert Tree — Irving— Manageritis — John
Hollingshead— Bernhardt— " Trilby. "
The earliest clubs were street clubs that a man
might run into from attacks of footpads, who infested
the regions of St James' after dark. There were
shops in the neighbourhood in those days where you
could buy picadils or spear-pointed ruffles which were
worn for protection. Possibly they were named
after Piccadilly or Piccadilly after them. Here are
one or two pensioned stories about clubs.
One of the ferocious class, a famous duellist,
G. R. Fitzgerald, was blackballed at Brooks' Club,
whereupon he asked each member of the committee
whether or no he was responsible for the blackball.
" No, sir," each said. " Then Mr Brooks," re-
marked Fitzgerald, " there seems to have been a
mistake altogether, and as none of the committee
have blackballed me I must be a member." There
was nothing to do but to send the intruder to
Coventry, and as nobody answered his remarks
Fitzgerald arose, made a low bow, and took his leave.
He was not allowed to enter the Club again, but he
boasted loudly of his membership.
Sheridan's election to Brooks' was opposed by
Selwyn's political aversions. One blackball re-
peatedly prevented his election, so Sheridan had
107
108 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
recourse to artifice. A note was handed to Selwyn
that his house was on fire ; unsuspicious he fled, and
Sheridan was promptly elected.
Fox's love of play is well known. Walpole says,
" Fox did not shine in the debate on the thirty-nine
articles on 6th February, nor could it be wondered
at." He played at Almack's twenty-six hours con-
tinuously and only went to the House after losing
^ii,ooo that night. In three nights two brothers
Fox (the eldest being under twenty-five years of age)
lost ;(f32,ooo. At White's, Walpole tells us. Lord
Chesterfield said to his son — it was, by the way, a
natural son to whom he wrote his famous letters —
" A member of a gaming club must be a cheat or
he will be a beggar." The price for a game in 1780
was one shilling by daylight, two-and-six by candle-
light. Dinner twelve shillings a head including malt
liquor and dessert.
As I tried to show in my Lyric chapter, entertain-
ment at clubs was no new thing. There was a
Lyric Club two hundred years ago. Story-telling,
mimicry, imitation of actors, etc. occurred then, just
as it did at our Lyric ; and Gibbon speaks of an
entertainment at Boodle's costing ;^2000. Eccentric
Clubs were common too in many forms. They were
generally composed of mummers with nicknames.
Sir Timothy Addlepate, Sir Skinny Fretwell, Sir
Boosey Prate-All, Sir Pay Little, etc., who soaked
their consciences away (wrote Mr Timbs).
The Everlasting Club was perhaps the most
interesting. Someone always sat in the chair night
and day and the fire was never let out. This
practice lasted for a great many years, and on
31st December, 1699, the committee met and
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 109
passed the resolution nemine contradicente, to sit
out another century.
The Oriental Club, called by cabbies the Hori-
zontal, looked, in 1824, like a prison outside and a
hospital inside, a smell of curry powder pervading
the wards. It was thus described: "Writers and
prigs grown into genuine bores, such is the nabobery
into which the precincts daily empty their precious
stores of bilious humanity." Let us hope, for the
Oriental still exists to-day, that time has blunted the
point of this satire ; if indeed it was ever justified.
This same year, 1824, saw the Athenaeum Club
started. Warned by want of funds of the necessity
of keeping up their numbers, the members attracted
candidates by the now threadbare method of spread-
ing reports that it was the Club to join. Conse-
quently, all the little crawlers and parasites and
gentility hunters set out upon the creep, and they
crept in, and were blown in by the winds of chance,
seeking social standing rather than giving lustre by
their talent. To-day, the Club has the best club
library in London ; and is a great advantage to men
who write. I beHeve Hook's Temperance Corner
is still held in reverence.
Certainly clubs act as conductors to the storms
always hovering somewhere in the air; the man
forced to remain at home and vent his crossness on
his wife is a much worse animal to bear with than
he who grumbles his way to his club, where he dare
not swear at the club servants, or knock about the
club furniture. There is nothing like the subordina-
tion exercised in a community of equals for reducing
bad temper.
The Literary Club was founded in 1773 ; it became
no CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
so famous that in fifteen years two Lord Chancel-
lors and four Bishops were blackballed. Garrick
liked the Club and said to Sir Joshua Reynolds : " I
think I shall be one of you." Dr Johnson was much
displeased with the act of conceit. " How does he
know we will admit him ? The first Duke in England
has no right to say he wiU be one of us." And, then,
when Goldsmith put up for membership, Johnson
sneeringly described him as " A man who has written
more than he has read."
Clubs and pubs were much the same thing in
those days. Mr Speaker Onslow to escape from the
atmosphere of thirty-three years in the House of
Commons, in the year 1772, used to spend his spare
time incognito " down at The Jew's Harp which is
Hendon way," ingratiating himself with the host
and family, until one day they discovered who he was,
and then he never came back again. A century later,
Mr Speaker Gully inverted this, and to escape from
the atmosphere of the Lyric Club used to go for
amusement to the Speaker's Chair in the House of
Commons.
More than three hundred years ago Chatterton
wrote " a play to be performed at some Club, where
afterwards they had music, mimicry, and sleight of
hand," and so history plays battledore and shuttle-
cock with the same conceit.
At an election at the Royal Yacht Squadron many
years ago the names of two candidates, a Mr Cox
and a Mr Henn, came up for consideration, and
though eligible in all respects they were both black-
balled, '' Good heavens, are we to have Cox and
Henns in the Club ? " " Certainly not," said the
old members, and this was all there was against them.
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 111
I know one man so conservative that he turns the
cold shoulder upon every new moon.
The division of clubs from coffee-houses originated
in the payment of a subscription, and the subscribers
then introduced exclusive rights for members. In
this way White's and the Cocoa Tree, both existing
to-day, changed their character from coffee-house to
clubs. They soon divided into classes, commencing
by selection and drifting into election ; and then the
blackball was first introduced, as a means of rejec-
ting those undersirable in the judgment of the com-
mittee. (Election will give place again to selection.)
Boodle's, Brooks', the Guards', and Authors' were
then considered the clubs of importance. White's
being the most difficult of entry. Mr Drummond
lost ;^ 20,000 at Brooks' Club to Brummell, son of a
waiter, leader of fashion and friend of the King.
In No. 78 of the Tatler, it is recorded that the
Smyrna Club of Pall Mall advertised to teach
gratis the noble sciences of music, poetry and politics
between the hours of eight and ten, but members
were to purge their brains with two pinches of snuff.
At Will's Club you used to see " Songs, Epigrams
and Satires." At Will's, Cromwell's cousin, an
eccentric beau, fulfilled his high ambition of taking
a pinch of snuff from Dryden's box, and then
quarrelled with him about a frail poetess.
At the Roxburgh Club in 181 2, Earl Spencer says ;
" Twenty-one members met joyfully, dined com-
fortably, challenged eagerly, tippled prettily, divided
regretfully, and paid the bill, ^55, 13s. most cheer-
fully." " They adopted Hook's precautionary
measure of avoiding exposure to the night air by
never going home till sunrise." Much water has
112 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
passed under London Bridge since then, but still
the same untiring pursuit of pleasure goes on in club-
life to-day.
I have been a member of forty-six clubs of various
kinds and was on the foundation committee of
twenty of these clubs, but of the whole forty-six
there are not many that live and flourish to-day.
Copying from my book on club-land in which
are preserved the signification of election and much
interesting data, I give only the names of these
forty-six clubs and cordially express my gratitude to
their respective committees for having elected me
to membership, they are :
The Owl's, 8 St James' Square
The Riverside Club, Maidenhead. (I was 15 years a
member)
The Meistersingers Club, 63 St James' Street
The Corinthian Club, 8a St James' Square
The Albany Club, Kingston-on-Thames
The Cigar Club, 6 Waterloo Place
The Lyric Club, 75 Bond Street, and Piccadilly East,
and St Anne's Barnes
The Cavendish Whist Club, 63 St James' Street
The Maison Doree Club, 38 Dover Street
The Beaufort Club, 32 Dover Street
The Forest and Stream Club, 16 King Street
The Junior Travellers Club, 12 Grafton Street
The Hyde Park Club, Albert Gate
The New Club, 4 Grafton Street (1893)
The National Conservative Club, Pall Mall
The New Lyric Club, 63 St James' Street
The Green Park Club, 17 St James' Place and 10
Grafton Street
The Wanderers' Club, 9 Pall Mall
The City Glee Club, 48 Fenchurch Street
The British Chess Club, 87 King Street, Covent
Gardens
The Thirteen Club (no premises)
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 113
The Players' Bridge Club, Bond Street, ,W.
The New Vagabond Club (no premises)
The Minerva Club, 38 Dover Street
The St George's Club, Hanover Square
The Piccadilly Club, Piccadilly
The Sheen House Cycling Club, Richmond
The Club's Yachting Association
The Junior Conservative Club, 43 Albemarle Street
The Wine Club, 46 Dover Street
The Mayfair Club, 45 Dover Street
The Cocoa Tree Club, founded 171 1 and still running
The River Club, Taplow
The Bowling Club
The West End Supper Club
The Constitutional Club, Windsor
The Winter Club, Olympia
The Saturday Supper Club, Grafton Galleries
The London Musical Club
The United Arts Club
The Lawns Club, i Albemarle Street
The Queen's Club, Maidenhead
The Temple Golf Club, Hurley, Maidenhead
The Manor House Club, Bredons Norton, Worcester-
shire
The Isthmian Club, Piccadilly
A club and a motor-car have about the same
average length of life to-day. Each of these clubs
serves or served the purpose of its time, and contri-
buted links to the continuous chain of club history ;
half a dozen were social and as many were
political.
The Whist Club succumbed to bridge, the Bicycle
Club merged in the motor movement, and the Night
Clubs were temporarily or permanently raided out
of existence. The River Clubs fell flat because the
motors took members farther afield.
The Riverside Club will not soon be forgotten.
H
114 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
It was well managed by Meadows Taylor, and
during fifteen years kept up the best traditions ; one
might almost add took the River Club traditions
with it when it closed its doors. For six years I drove
the Club bus and pair to and from the course during
Ascot week, and many a jovial day and night I
spent there from 1888 to 1902.
The Cigar Club might have gone on, for the
members could buy cigars at wholesale price with-
out intermediate profits. The Maison Doree^ the
Minerva and all eating clubs were at best but mutes
and mourners at the funeral of the Amphitryon Club,
which was quite the best as well as the first and an
acknowledged success.
At the City Glee Club madrigals and mutton
chops continue their attraction as they have done for
wellnigh a century.
The Cocoa Tree also existing to-day is the oldest
of them all, having been founded in 171 1 and has
a most interesting history.
The New Vagabond Club, having no premises, is
not strictly a club, but it is founded upon new lines
and continues successfully.
At the Thirteen Club they snorted loudly against
superstition and luck, they dined thirteen at a table,
had squinting waiters, coffin-shaped salt-cellars,
broken looking-glasses, and sat under ladders ; the
club was short-lived, but its members are mostly
living still. Lord Avebury wrote a book to prove
that there is no such factor as luck in human affairs,
in which we all of the Thirteen Club agreed.
Golf Clubs are too ancient and modern to dwell
on. I remember the red coats playing at Blackheath
in 1 87 1. This year, 1909, I joined the Temple Golf
iHouera^^ 'S.mxi\w >\K(i... 'in.Wwi'nronviMljme.IifiMJviomooiv... no sutvw
Ws,... ^wnm nfl i\
,ft. wv'mmiiw aA'M,Vtak> c\wit.. .'miwuvwju.c!..
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 115
Club, and was elected to the committee. A stick and
a ball in various forms have ever been the joy of the
Englishman.
Croquet and bowling go on as of old ; the former
was revived through the energy of Col. the Hon. C.
Needham, known to his intimates as " Dot."
The British Chess Club flourishes (it is a copy of
the Chess Club founded in 1847 with Lord Ehbank
as President). I remember on my first visit to the
Club rushing in where fools fear to tread and asking
a melancholy-looking foreigner to play a game.
Members flocked round to watch the game. It was
Laskar, and he won!
The Winter Club at Olympia was a big idea and
ought to have succeeded. I think the fog killed it ;
the atmosphere was so dense that the Hghting became
terribly expensive.
Henley week knew the Isthmian Club for many
years. It is charmingly situated in Piccadilly, once
the house of Sir Julian Goldsmid, who lent it me
twice for my private parties. Only public-school
men were eligible, but three candidates who had not
been to public schools were elected annually. Under
this rule I became a member in 1903. I wanted a
corner of London where I could find solitude ; I
found it in crowds of old acquaintances! At last
espying an elderly stranger I asked who he was.
" Don't you know ? he threw the hammer for Oxford
somewhere in the forties." I always grovelled to
real greatness and was pleased to learn the precise
indication of its standard, but timidly expressed sym-
pathy with the forties and hoped they were outside
the rope.
And now I will pass on to things theatrical for
116 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
a while. It seems that my pen hovers perpetually
between clubs and theatres.
Everybody supposes that much evil is in the
theatre — but nobody knows on which side of the
curtain. Certainly the public of to-day would never
whisk an eyebrow over the naughty dances that the
Lord Chamberlain condemned as quite too wicked
in the eighties. A hydropathic entertainment of to-
day would be far more exciting than the dances " held
up " when I was a boy.
Instead of returning to Ceylon, I accepted the
appointments of private secretary, treasurer, and sub-
sequently acted as manager-in-chief to Sir Charles
Wyndham and Sir Herbert Tree, and was elected a
director of the Lyric Theatre Company, Limited,
and of the Prince of Wales' Theatre Company,
Limited. Programmes, framed and hung in promi-
nent places in my little cottage, state in large type
that I acted as manager-in-chief at Balmoral and
once at a state performance in Dublin.
Let me take my readers into my confidence, and
tell them at once that I only got through the
technical part of the ordeals through the loyal help
of my assistants, who knew their work from years
of experience, whilst at that time I hardly knew
" prompt " from " off-prompt." What I can never
entirely forgive myself for, is that I accepted really
large salaries for doing little except supping with
Tree and Wyndham, sitting up most of the night,
being entertained by the most interesting people of
my time, and making and keeping friendships.
The first great actress I met was Miss Glynn (Mrs
Dallas). She was the great Cleopatra of her time.
When Miss Glynn was dying, she asked jne Jo
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 117
fetch Mr Henry Irving, as he then was, who returned
with me at once in a cab. When they met, Miss Glynn,
in a dramatic manner, asked him to call to mind the
stripling she had ruthlessly dismissed from her
company because of his lack of legs. This was
Henry Irving, and the occasion was his first engage-
ment. Having delivered herself of this little speech
she burst into tears ; the doctor knocked at the door
and said : " You must stay no longer." But I know
that the meeting with Sir Henry soothed her ruffled
spirit, for when he said, " Good-bye Isabella," she
showed it in a smile. She never rose again and
passed away two days later.
The world understands the tearful humour of the
Irishman, who once described Sir Henry's life as
one of unbroken blemish. One day he called upon
me to explain some slight misunderstanding. I was
out, but when I returned I found on my table this
charming letter from a man and an actor who
possessed the definite and indefinable quality of
distinction.
" Dear Mr Munday, — I am sincerely sorry to have
overlooked this matter, and I can only pray you to
accept my apology for the inadvertence.
" It has, however, one advantage in having given
me the opportunity of reading a very charming letter,
and if my shortcomings were always equally fortunate,
I should indeed be a happy man. With all good
wishes,
" Very truly yours,
" HxNRY Irving.
-' 15a Grafton Street,
'' 2ist February, 1892."
118 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
As everyone knows, Henry Irving was buried in
Westminster Abbey ; I attended the funeral and
sat in the chancel next to Ellen Terry. When the
procession stopped a while, with its fourteen pall
bearers close by us, we felt an atmosphere of " living
silence," a momentary dawn of something not mourn-
ful but rather inspiring, as silences so often are. I
had felt this hush on a former occasion at the Jubilee
Thanksgiving of our beloved Queen Victoria, when,
acting as Honorary Steward in the northern transept,
I " felt " the union of all the Monarchs of Europe
in silent prayer. The luck of getting there I owed
to Wentworth Cole who obtained the Lord Chamber-
lain's permission to add me to the list, and best of
all I was near the chancel.
The success of a great actor manager produces a
virulently contagious disease which we will call
" manageritis." Every second actor tells you that he
is looking for a theatre to start management, which
generally means the choosing of plays with parts for
himself to shine in, which is well, if he is strong
enough to fill his house. But I have known men
drawing ;^5o or ;^6o a week give up this certainty
for the risk, to end in most cases with disaster. The
struggle for existence is as bitter and keen, no doubt,
in the world of acting as in the world where things
are more real, but it is certain that Dame Fortune,
when she waves her wand over the theatrical world,
dispenses her wealth with a lavishness and generosity
which is almost amazing.
A play not too strictly moral, enabled a well-known
actress a few years ago to add to her banking account
a thousand pounds a week ; and single benefit per-
formances have frequently yielded a profit of thou-
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 119
sands of pounds. I was present on the stage at
Nellie Farren's when she reaHsed six thousand
pounds. A striking contrast with a " benefit " a
hundred years ago, which reaHsed a clear profit of
eighteenpence ! and I have known something like
that happen less than a hundred years ago !
It was never, perhaps, so costly to run a theatre
as now, but the business of entertaining the world
was never so profitable. Though the working
expenses of some theatres may average nine hundred
pounds a week, a week's good " houses " represent
two thousand pounds, leaving a substantial profit for
the fortunate powers that be ; but naturally with such
prizes in view many run in the race for the sporting
chance, who could comfortably have retired with
moderate fortunes. The vicissitudes of actors' lives
are not unknown to those who have lived amongst
them, but these secrets are not for the world ; a brave
front must be kept up at all costs ! My wife remem-
bers Grisi and Mario, parents of Mrs Godfrey-
Pearse of great musical distinction, staying with her
aunt, Mrs Aide, some forty years ago. About this
time artistes were becoming recognised socially.
Hitherto they had only privileges in England.
Even to-day an actor or singer who would go to
Court usually gains distinction outside his art, in
public service, as sheriff or county councillor, or by
knighthood, to entitle him to the entree.
A curious change or compromise is expressed in
the following tactful letter, from an authority, who
writes :
" Many ancient laws obsolete by custom are left
unrepealed lest liberty should run to hcence. There
120 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
is no rule or law which forbids the presentation of
an actor or entertainer at Court. It has not, however,
been the custom for the reason that the higher class
of actors who might be received at Court have fore-
seen that it would sooner or later come to be used
as a means of self-advertisement."
" Honest John " HoUingshead is not yet forgotten.
He was identified with progress all along the line.
He it was who brought over Sarah Bernhardt, and
first produced an Ibsen play ; he it was who first
abolished fees and produced the first result of the
Gilbert and Sullivan collaboration, viz. " Thespis,"
at the Gaiety in 1872. He is almost as closely
identified with Leicester Square as Baron Grant who
gave it to the nation, but whose character is handed
down to us in these lines :
" Kings can grant titles, honour they can't.
Title without honour, is but a Baron Grant.'"
Clement Scott and Edgar Pemberton, both friends,
died the same year as John HoUingshead. The
former is remembered as much by the " Garden of
Sleep " as by his valuable tribute to dramatic art.
He was the critic of the Telegraph.
Clemmie himself was a real good sort when he was
not in armour or too lavish with emotional adoration
of mediocrity ; he was a powerful person and he put
in every ounce of ink with telling effect.
Pemberton, whom I visited in Birmingham, was
the author of memoirs of many eminent men. The
mention of Clement Scott awakens many memories
of Fleet Street friends ranging from Edmund Yates
to Reginald Nicholson, the present manager of The
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 121
Times, Harry Brittain, and many others to whom I
am indebted, but afraid to name, for fear of omit-
ting some, there were so many, known to me as well
as unknown, by whose pens I have constantly bene-
fited. Perhaps now that I have no more to ask, my
gratitude will be accepted as deep and sincere, but
1 cannot pass over one little episode which meant
so much to me.
I was quite at the end of my resources when a
leader, giving a flaring account of my People's Palace
work, brought me into prominence, and three offers
arrived on the same day. I accepted Riviere's,* and
managed his last season of promenade concerts in
the nineties, and drew my first pay, ;^i2 a week,
thanks entirely to the Press.
Couplets and poems, epigrams and paragraphs
have followed my work in the Press from start to
finish and never an unkind line. It is difficult for
me to say more, and tiresome to the reader to quote
these kind Press notices in detail or illustration.
Sarah Bernhardt I first met at a supper-party given
by Hamilton Aide in his rooms at Hanover Square,
at one time the Bishop of London's Palace. Amongst
other guests were Sir Henry Irving, Miss Ellen
Terry, Mr and Mrs Forbes Robertson, Mr and Mrs
George Alexander, Mr and Mrs Tree, and Coquelin.
Who is not obsessed by Sarah's overwhelming in-
dividuality and happy manner? She kissed every-
body except me, but she promised me that night
that she would recite Armande Sylvestre's " Poemes
d' Amours " and a date was fixed by her. Now I am
* Jules Riviere told me he made ;^2000 out of twenty-two bars
of music. It was the gem of Babil and Byon (1872)^ the Spring
Chorus.
122 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
not a hasty disbeliever, nor a deliberate believer,
but this took my breath away. When I had ex-
pressed my gratitude, dreading that she might fail,
I told Ellen Terry of my fears and hopes. She
said : " Well, get them all translated, and if Sarah
fails you I will read them in English ; but she will
not fail you because she would be hurting her fellow-
countryman, Armande Sylvestre, by doing so." And
so both these imperishable personalities placed me
for ever in their debt.
Sarah Bernhardt kept her word and recited them
all in French, and I felt ashamed of having doubted.
My party was a success, those present of my guests
were:
Lord and Lady Londesborough, Lord and Lady
Edward Spencer Churchill, Mr and Mrs Mortimer
Menpes, the Honourable L. Hanbury Lennox and
Mrs Lennox, Mrs and Miss Beringer, Joseph Knight,
Miss Harriet Young, Mr and Mrs CeUier, Alfred J.
Caldecott, Cotsford Dick, Senor Abeniz (who wrote
the music for the tableaux), Senor Arbos, the
Honourable Douglas Carnegie, Godebski (who
arranged the tableaux), Mr and Mrs Cyril Maude,
J. Comyns Carr, J. L. Toole, Hamilton Aide,
Joseph Hatton, Malcolm Watson, Miss Gertrude
Kingston, H. J. Thaddeus, J. F. Nisbet, Samuel
French, Mrs Aria, Mrs Frankau, Walter Frith,
Colonel Mackinnon, Sir Augustus Harris, Sir George
Harris, Sir Augustus Adderly, Miss Marie Tempest,
Miss Ellis Jeffreys, Miss Fortescue, Sir James
Forrest, Lady Wantage, Lady Jane Lindsay, Lionel
Brough, Sir George Power, Edgar Bruce, Richard
Green, Alberto Randegger, Sir Randall Roberts,
Miss Sedohr Rhodes, Ivan Caryll, Mr and Mrs
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 123
Walter Slaughter, Miss Geraldine Ulmar, Cecil
Howard, Ernest Ford, the Misses Holland, Mr and
Mrs Charles Kettlewell, Harry Monkhouse, Dow-
ager Lady Westbury (the first President of our Green
Park Club), George Smith Wright, Fred Upton, Mr
and Mrs George Grossmith, Andre Raffalovich,
Rosina Brandram, Mr and Mrs Jack Robertson,
Miss Gladys Homfrey, Lionel Monckton, Miss
Damien, Miss Lily Hanbury, the Honourable
Evelyn Wrottesley, Lady Monckton, Mrs GabrielH,
Mrs Toynbee and William Toynbee, Mark Ambient,
Barton M'Guckin, Justin Huntly M'Carthy, Mr and
Mrs Clement Ritchie, Malcolm Salamon, William
Greet, Edward Terry, W. Yardley, Arthur and Amy
Roselle-Dacre, Mr and Mrs Shakespeare, Henry
Howe, Lady Dorothy Nevill, Mrs Beerbohm Tree,
Miss Ethel Matthews, Mrs J. S. Wood, Lawrence
Kellie, Miss Braddon, Mrs Carl Rosa, Lennox
Browne, Lord Raincliffe, the Honourable Mr and
Mrs G. Coleridge, Seymour Hicks, Charles Wynd-
ham, Lady St Leonards, Lady Greville, Eric Lewis,
Lord Henry Thynne, Mr W. C. Gully, Sir John
Astley, Ladies Lilian and Mildred Denison, Miss
Ellen Terry and Sarah Bernhardt.
These have all signed my visitors' book and were
all present ; they represented the moving spirits in
the worlds within worlds at the period of which I
am writing, and if apology is needed for printing
these names, that is my apology.
Sylvestre is the French prototype of our Swin-
burne; he gave me his signed photograph and an
unpublished poem. The Teutons have Maeterlinck,
Wagner, and Ibsen, but not Sylvestre or Bernhardt !
Dear Sir George Macleay, greatly beloved by all
124 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
who knew him, who gave Botany Bay its name, told
me that he visited a distant part of Australia where
the inhabitants were just being converted by the
missionaries who had not quite clearly explained
that the New Testament was really not quite new.
When the steamer came alongside the landing stage
the natives welcomed the captain thus : " How do.
Captain ? All well at Sydney ? How's the governor ?
And how's Postle Paul?"
I expect this story has leaked and eked out many
a time, but Sir George told it me.
I once crossed the channel with Armbruster, and
after talking all the way discovered it was Richter.
" Sorrow's crown of sorrows is remembering tactless
days." I had not seen Richter since 1877, when
Wagner threw down his baton at the Albert Hall
amid one of the most dramatic occurrences ever
witnessed in a concert-room — the two hundred and
sixty English players did not understand Wagner's
beat, nor his corrections. Wagner became nervous
and looked about pitiably, he could stand it no
longer ; then a thick-set sturdy Teuton about thirty-
five years old mounted the rostrum, seized the baton,
and in less than two minutes evoked order out
of chaos, and made the name of Richter famous
for ever.
CHAPTER IX
With Tree — Command Performance at Balmoral — Record Rush
to Dublin — On Managing — Lord Beaconsfield's Tips — Buffalo
Bill — Lyric Theatre — With Wyndham.
After these events an offer came from Sir (then
Mr) Herbert Tree, which I accepted, and became his
private secretary, and remained with him for about
two years, acting as his manager-in-chief part of the
time, notably at Balmoral. Tree will take a high
place in the history of his time, and find a ready
Boswell to give the world a picture of the man and
his art in true proportion. His fine sense of humour
normalised the passionate forces of his temperament,
saved many a weird situation, and kept us both young
and well. At first I was merely the grey background
to throw into relief his paradox and epigram; later
I was something more. The more I saw of his
character, the better it revealed itself, as whenever he
wandered into the mazes of subtlety and complexity
he stumbled upon naked truth, or at all events upon
truth very lightly clad. Phosphoric events are inci-
dental to an actor's calling, but as a man Tree was
quite incapable of doing anything artificial or sham.
He never thought in threepenny bits, but deeply
and whole-heartedly, according to the interpretation
of a poet and a dreamer.
Yet, in the science of theatrical managementj( this
126 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
dreamer holds the world's record for commercial
acumen. In his mental aeroplane he has got there,
piloting himself in spite of adverse winds and without
precedent or any reliable chart. I have known Tree
to be experimental beyond the verge of rashness, and
cautious to the edge of timidity, yet he never sought
an example or feared an innovation ; neither would
he admit difficulties until the crises were past. If a
failure came, as it must to all, he seemed as proud
of it as is a mother of her squinting baby. The
actor's time is short, and he knows he must not defy
it with undignified pertinacity. Time waits in the
wings and mocks from the foot and top lights, and
successive generations often discredit what is merely
passed down by word of mouth. There is no record
of the height attained in an art which is ephemeral.
Tree acts five great Shakespearian characters in one
week, and stages these plays to perfection. It needs
time's perspective and retrospective rightly to gauge
this amazing record. Once in Manchester he showed
a bit of his quality. In the middle of an act he fell
heavily and dislocated his arm ; although it hung
loose he finished the act, and then calmly told me
to put my foot under his arm, which I did, and gave
it a smart pull. It got back into the socket with a
snap and a click. I explained from the stage that
this was the reason that Tree had to wear his arm in
a sling ; the audience gave him a hearty cheer, and
he got off with nothing worse than an advertisement.
When he was playing Hamlet one night his wig
came off. A young untried boy prompter had the
extraordinary audacity or clever presence of mind to
lower the Hghts slowly, almost imperceptibly. The
scene was finished in the dark, thus preventing a
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 127
ridiculous situation. The boy's salary was doubled.
I have known him to play to record houses of both
extremes, both good and bad. The smallest was at
Blackpool, where he shared honours with Augustus
Druriolanus, who had brought Grand Opera there
the same week that Tree brought Shakespeare, when
both fell before the tyranny of the Yorkshire Football
Final. I have only just discovered what can hold
its own against football in the north, and that is
football in the south. Gus Harris forsook his hun-
dred occupations to come up to Blackpool to face
matters ; for it was no child's play or risk to have
Grand Opera with a hundred principals, orchestra,
chorus and staff to provide for. He hired every
brass band including the Salvation and Church
Armies to parade the streets, but it was all of no use,
the " flannelled fools " had it. Gus was a delightful
disbeliever in the science of luck. " Luck be d d,"
he used to say. " Get the right players and plays
and the public will go to the ball of St Paul's Cross
or down the sewers to get there ! " But for once he
was wrong. At Blackpool both he and Tree had
pains in their cheque-books and inflammation of their
pay-sheets, though neither ever had the silly supersti-
tions which beset and besot smaller natures..
One of our provincial tours was cut short by
a royal command. So we went to Balmoral with
" The Balladmonger," and " The Red Lamp," both
revolutionary plays, the latter by Outram Tristram,
who sometimes came with us.
128 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
BALMORAL CASTLE
September 2^, i8g^
A romantic Play by Walter Besant and Walter Pollock
adapted from
Theodore de Banville's " Gringoire," entitled —
"THE BALLAD MONGER"
Louis XI. (King of France) ... Mr Holman Clark
Gringoire (a Ballad Monger) .... Mr Tree
Olivier (the Royal Barber,
enobled by the King) . . . .Mr Charles Allan
Simon (a rich Cloth Merchant) . . Mr Lionel Brough
Loyse (the King's Godchild) .... Mrs Tree
Nicole (Simon's Sister) . . Miss Margaret Leighton
Pages Miss Viola Tree and
Miss Dora Barton
Scene . . Room in Simon's House.
and
"THE RED LAMP"
By W. OuTRAM Tristram.
Paul Demetrius (of the Secret
Police) Mr Tree
General Morakoff Mr Tyrone Power
Allan Villiers (of the New
York Herald) Mr Charles Allan
Prince Alexis Valerian .... Mr C. M. Hallard
Ivan Zazzulic (a Russian Jour-
nalist) Mr Charles Glenney
Kertch (Servant to General
Morakoff) Mr Holman Clark
Count Bohrenheim .... Mr Leslie Thomson
Turgan (a Sculptor) . . . Mr F. Percival Stevens
Rheinveck Mr Willies
Tolstoi Mr G. Mackay
Officer of the Police Mr Montagu
Servant Mr Edward Ferris
Princess Claudia Morakoff Mrs Tree
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 129
Olga Morakoff (her Step-
Daughter) Miss Lily Hanbury
FeHse Miss Noel
Madame Dannenberg . . Miss Margaret Leighton
Countess Voelcker Miss M. Brough
Madame Doravek Mrs E. H. Brooke
Acting Manager and Secretary
Mr Luther Munday
Assistant Manager . . Mr Horace Watson
Stage Manager Mr B. Shelton
Assistant Stage Manager . . . Mr A. Wigley
Perruquier Mr Clarkson
In waiting at Balmoral were Sir Henry Ponsonby
and Colonel Henry Byng, since Lord Strafford ; and
Queen Victoria's guests were Prince and Princess
Henry of Battenberg, and a large house-party. Just
as everything seemed ready for the curtain to ring
up, the battens and supports being all fixed to the
floor and ceiling, it was announced that the Queen
wished to be carried across the stage. The guests
were assembled and seated. There was a long delay,
and in the wings was the smell of Hmelight gas and
hot workmen who simply blocked up every inch of
the very limited space. Her Majesty's approach
was in the midst of all the hammering and swearing,
and it took about eight or ten minutes to unscrew
the pipes, stays, and improvised fittings to make
room to pass. Her Majesty looked ill and worn, but,
in spite of this, took great interest in our doings and
asked what this and that " property " was intended
for. I had to say I did not know to some of the
questions. Her Majesty wrote my name on a piece
of paper and gave it to Sir Henry Ponsonby, kindly
instructing him to allot me a seat in the Royal circle
I
130 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
just behind herself; the Queen remarking that if a
manager was not acting he could not have any occu-
pation behind the scenes. Then, in a low arm-chair
and with a footstool and table, the greatest living
woman sat and the play started. It was a great trial
in so small a space. In accordance with the custom
at Balmoral I had to give up the little piece of paper
as none of the Queen's writing except to personal
friends was permitted to be retained. During the
course of the afternoon rehearsals had been con-
ducted under great difficulties, scenery and fittings
having all to be specially made and adjusted, and
the company had great difficulty in finding time to
answer their many and important letters upon Bal-
moral paper. One junior member wrote thirty-two.
After the play, applause was led by the Queen
tapping her hand on the little side-table with her fan,
then Tree and the principal actors and actresses
were presented. I read the names out to Sir Henry
Ponsonby, who formally repeated them in a loud
voice. My name was not on the list, and there was
an amusing demur when Sir Henry became his own
prompter and announced it. The Queen spoke a
word or two to me, but in a voice pitched so low
that I did not know what they were : a sort of tear in
my throat is all I can remember. In a flash there
seemed to come to mind all that this royal lady's life
had experienced and witnessed, the monarchs of the
world that had reigned and died, the cabinet ministers
and innumerable officers of state, with their opposite
opinions ; the wars, the world's growth, and all else
that made history during this reign of fifty-five years.
It was appalling to reahse that Her Majesty's was
the voice of the greatest living woman in whom were
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 131
reposed the trusted traditions of Greater Britain,
the power of rule and influence over one-fifth of the
globe.
But there was no time to think. We all went
to supper, and I began fussing over the hour; it
was one o'clock. Heavy responsibiHties were ahead.
The company had to act in Dublin that same day.
Prince Henry of Battenberg took in Mrs Tree and
Tree took in Princess Henry to supper. The Queen
herself only passed through the room. The restless-
ness of incessant anxiety after about twenty hours
on end suddenly slackened, and everybody talked,
ate, and laughed in unaffected pleasantry; but the
ghost at the feast was Dublin, and it was then nearly
two o'clock in the morning. We were under contract,
subject to heavy fines, and Dublin was, I think, sijc
hundred miles away ! The supper-party must there-
fore be broken up, and at once. I placed these facts
before Sir Henry Ponsonby, and we stood not on the
order of our going, but went ! Such a transformation
scene in five minutes ; helter-skelter, bag and baggage,
twenty trollies and private carriages, all noise and
fuss. From Balmoral we went to the station at Bal-
later, which was rudely awakened from its slumbers.
Baggage was left on the road in the scurry, and two
of the company as well missed the special train. I
told the guard to affect to start and come back, which
he did, and this was the only way of moving the
company who were utterly indifferent to the tyranny
of time. Then commenced our journey, which
created a time record. The company numbered fifty-
five people, there were seven changes of engine-
drivers, we travelled over the tracks of four different
railways, traversing some of the finest scenery in
132 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
Wales, Scotland, Ireland, England, and the lakes.
The six hundred (or so) miles by sea and land took
sixteen and a half hours. Most of us were sea-sick,
or rather car-sick, in the little special train, which
seemed to swing dangerously. The moderately rough
sea seemed nothing to us afterwards. Part of the
time we travelled at the rate of sixty-five miles an
hour. Special restaurant cars were hooked on at
certain points. When we arrived at Dublin, jaunting-
cars met the boat, and vast crowds set up a cheer;
we did not know why, but we found out the moment
the curtain was raised promptly at eight, for then the
Irish who had backed us set up salvos of cheers which
lasted for three minutes. It happened that the sport-
ing of little flags on maps exhibited in shop windows
had marked our point-to-point race, and twenty-four
hours' betting took place on the chances of our
arriving in time. I did the settling up, which was
merely a question of expenses. This was paid to
Sir Fleetwood Edwards. In the old days there was
a recognised representative of the acting profession
styled the " Master of Court Revels," who used to
pay on a fixed scale by an arrangement with the
Privy Purse, but one of these gentlemen in the forties
pocketed the bulk of the fees; he revelled himself
out of existence, and thenceforth the office of Master
of Court Revels was aboHshed. The exposure was
effected by an actor who entered the police court and
ostentatiously gave five shilHngs to the poor box,
saying that it was the fee he had received from the
Master of the Court Revels for acting before the
Queen, and there was a great to-d about it in
the papers.
My friend, George Ashton, is the go-between
00
o
a^
uTUvi^^'^-^"
oo
00
D
O
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 133
to-day, without the pretty sounding title of Master
of Revels.
A few words may not be boring about theatrical
business generally. To anyone who knows nothing,
and simply sits in a stall, theatrical management
looks remarkably easy; but it is not. To manage
an opera house or a big theatre may tax human
powers as urgently as any position save that of a
General in the very stress of battle. The orchestra,
the chorus, the subscribers, the programme printing,
the bill inspecting, the rival leading ladies, their
contracts and their wardrobes, the newspapers, the
box office and booking agencies, and the armies of
hangers-on, the fixing of dates and arranging in fifty
towns, and the transport of provincial companies all
combine to demand tact, foresight, tenacity, and flexi-
bility ; indeed, all the qualities required to make a
good ruler or a good soldier. On the stage side of
the house there are the master machinist with his
staff of carpenters, the property master with his staff,
the gas and electrical engineer and limeHght master
in their respective departments ; not least is the
treasury and the weekly payment of salaries. I had
almost forgotten to include the manager's most diffi-
cult task of all : he acts as a sort of trustee for every-
body's bad temper, and, like the stock jobber, he
must not deal himself with that which he holds in
trust. In the daytime a theatre is usually filled with
groups of actors while portions of a play are being
rehearsed in every part of the theatre by touring
companies and others. Here is seen a chorus of
angels rehearsing in bangles and ear-rings, there all
sorts and conditions jostle each other in the limited
space, but the supreme authority everywhere is the
134 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
acting manager. To him the heads of all depart-
ments present their weekly finance reports, and his
veto still remains arbitrary.
To pass on to the position of acting in
relation to other caUings. Somewhere about the
nineties acting was recognised, through Irving,
as an art, he being bracketed with Lord Leighton
and Sir Laurence Alma Tadema to receive the
degree of Doctor of Literature at the University
of Dublin. At the banquet which followed, acting,
however, got a snubbing, for the toast of " Art "
was responded to by Lord Leighton, P.R.A. He
correctly, or otherwise, limited his remarks to the
art of painting, and ignored acting altogether, and,
worse still, Irving was not even called upon to
speak. I forget what happened since to establish
the histrionic art, or whether she is still looked
upon as inferior to that of the wielder of the
brush, but at all events her heights at least are
attainable with equal success by both sexes. In this
profession alone the claim of woman to equal dis-
tinction is unchallenged. To mention only foreigners,
Rachel, Bernhardt, Ristori, and Duse have been
surpassed in their art by no man. Maybe the pig-
ments used by the actor are really the author's brains,
or vice versa, but how many rejected plays are wait-
ing to be summoned to come up again for judgment
if called upon.'' Though the best of feelings exist
between the two creators of dramatic force, the
writer and the actor, it is because it is so obvious that
one cannot exist without the other. Yet it is equally
certain that there exists jealousy in degree. I thought
it a httle impertinent of a good playwriter who sent
to the actor from whose talent he had made his
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 135i
fortune, a piece of paper written all over with altera-
tions, just as it left his brain, taken at studied artistic
random from one of his plays. He had it handsomely
framed and ostentatiously presented to commemorate
an important episode in this famous actor's career.
It reminded one of Lord Beaconsfield who, in 1851,
with his oiled ringlets and meandering gold chain,
presented in the place of tips to servants, quotations
from one or other of his novels printed on white
bordered silk with gold fringe. The latter was more
admissible than the former, but both were ridiculous.
Before passing to other personalities, I would like
to pay tribute to two old friends of mine, both inti-
mately associated with Tree for many years. Henry
Neville and Lionel Brough. The former gave Tree
his first engagement, and both received of him their
last. They have died since I started this book, and
with them died opportunities to renew annually pleas-
ant meetings between mutual friends of other days at
their houses.
Passing on to other entertainers, Buffalo Bill
was one of the biggest successes that America
ever sent us ; he was one of the best, admittedly
the greatest scout that ever lived (they do attri-
bute to his influence the " Apache " scourge in
Paris). He was a friendly guide for officers who
wanted big game. We paid him great respect at the
Lyric Club. A self-made well-bred who was not
perpetually praising his maker. He had a good heart
and, well— he confirmed all the tall stories English-
men told about their sport in the Rockies. This
was like giving them certificates of their sportman-
ship, and it made him welcome everywhere. Buffalo
Bill took a great fancy to Colonel Mackinnon. I
136 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
introduced them, and to the Rocky Mountains they
went together. The Colonel became General Sir
William, and commanded the C.I.V. in action and
the Territorials in peace. " Mac " and I called on
Buffalo Bill and found him in bad asleep He was a
fine specimen of the natural and spiritual product;
and he helped me at the Lyric. One afternoon he
called with a coach and four mustangs and drove us,
with John Gretton, a friend of evergreen memory,
from our house to Olympia, where my wife and Lily
Hanbury helped him entertain a thousand guests
at tea. We lived then at 4 Park Row, Albert Gate,
overlooking the Serpentine, Rotten Row, and both
the driving past and the walking past. These, the
only houses actually in Hyde Park, were then about
^50 a year rent, and the occupants of the four
houses were Jerome K. Jerome, G. Ogilvie Haig,
Mr and Mrs George Alexander, and ourselves.
From i8go to 1894 I was a director of the Lyric
Theatre, Limited, and the following works were
produced: "La Cigale," by Bernard and Audran;
"The Mountebanks," by Gilbert and Cellier;
" Incognita," by Bernard and Lecoq ; " The
Magic Opal," by Law and Albanez ; " The Golden
Web," by Stephenson and Goring Thomas ; " Little
Christopher Columbus," by Sims and Caryll ; and as
I said before, the epoch-making Eleanore Duse made
her first appearance in this country. " The Mounte-
banks " would easily stand a revival, notwithstanding
the melancholy fact that Lai Brough and Harry
Monkhouse are both dead, and Sir W. S. Gilbert too.
The music of this piece was commenced by Sullivan
and finished by Cellier. " Little Christopher "
marked the first appearance in England of Miss May
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 137
Yohe, erstwhile Lady Frances Hope with a lovely
contralto voice and a very taking manner. " La
Cigale " was a delightful play, and saw Dolly Ulmar
in her best piece of acting. She had created nearly
all the leading soprano parts in the Gilbert and
Sullivan Operas, and possessed charm which, like
Mary's better part, shall not be taken away from her!
Of the Prince of Wales' Theatre, Limited, I was
only on the board of directors for two years.
" L'Enfant Prodigue " was there produced ; a play
without words, and for a time dumb show became
quite a vogue. The other plays I have forgotten,
except " Miss Decima," written by Bill Yardley.
When the Imperial Institute was opened in 1893,
it had much to contend against. There was a very
showy list of patron organisers, who had little power
of initiative in this particular Hne. Among other
blunders was their attempt to make this beautiful
institution into a sort of club, after which it fell to
the level of a deadly respectable cafe chantant. How-
ever, there it was, and we all of us had to help. The
fine old Lyric orchestra of amateurs moved there in
a body, and Frank Butler (since famous in the
ballooning world), Alberto Randegger and I tried
to utilise all this splendid voluntary organisation for
the permanent interests of the Institute. With the
approval of King Edward, I was appointed honorary
secretary; but there was the paid secretary. Sir
Somers Vine, with whom I never could pull. I
could not brook interference or criticism. Vine was
a hard-working and loyal servant to the Institute,
but he allowed valuable forces to evaporate for want
of tact. He forgot, what is often forgotten, that
voluntary workers naturally want a little coaxing and
138 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
some encouragement. But here there was always
the paid go-between suggesting and criticising with-
out possessing any better technical knowledge. The
end of it was that the appointment of honorary
secretary was abolished, the orchestra disbanded
itself, and the concerts died a natural death within
a year. I think this was a pity, and need not have
happened. I know I meant well by my work, but
certainly made no efforts to serve the red-tape officials
whom I never saw. I have tried in these memoirs
to check personal prejudice, and as most of the actors
in this comedy of errors are gone, it had perhaps
been better taste not to have written a word upon
the subject. Anyway, I will say no more.
Many years ago an acquaintanceship arose between
Sir Charles Wyndham and myself. I thought him
so courteous, clever, and unaffected both off and
on the stage, so natural, graceful, and forceful. I
suppose that he thought that I managed the Lyric
Club well, and upon this experience he offered me
the post of treasurer, and temporarily I acted as his
manager-in-chief. My appreciation of Sir Charles
did not decrease upon closer acquaintance. I drew
his cheques, and found that many were in favour
of the forgotten great, who had fluttered and radiated
their beauty and talent before an admiring world, till
age and untoward causes had lowered the curtain on
their careers. If I may express Wyndham's kindness
in metaphor, he lowered a safety curtain between
the acts of many a drama with no advertisement upon
it. If it offends him to tell of this, I plead it is my
first offence, and will not repeat it. On ist May,
1896, he celebrated his twenty years' management of
the Criterion Theatre, and did it in no half-hearted
CHKONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 139
way. He asked twelve hundred guests to a sit-down
supper at the Hotel Cecil on its opening night, and
asked me to act as master of ceremonies, as he
could not get there before 11.30.
This entertainment cost him a pretty penny, but
besides all this hospitality to social and Bohemian
London, he gave the proceeds of his day's work
(^^245 2, 6s. 4d.) to the Actors' Benevolent Fund.
On this festive occasion Comyns Carr, with his
usual tact and taste, spoke " The Congratulations to
C. W." who replied as we all supposed he would, and
as few actors could. Actors, as a rule, only speak
what is allotted to them, but Wyndham and one or
two others can speak their own with most. Incessant
work is good for no man, but some great men are
never injured by it. I know of several cases ; Charles
Wyndham is one. His career everybody knows.
He served in the Federal Army in the American
Civil War. He first appeared as an actor at the
Queen's Theatre in May, 1869, and I hope the
chronicler of his last appearance has yet to be born.
Coquelin said that Wyndham in his style of acting
had not been eclipsed.
A word about play licensing, which is causing
some sensation of late. Perhaps the form of stage
licence may be of interest, so I give a facsimile.
The play referred to lived but a single day, but it
produced ;£55o for the Waterloo Hospital.
It having been represented to Me by the Examiner of
All Theatrical Entertainments that a typewritte^i copy
entitled " The Assignation " being a Comedy, 3 acts, does
not in its general tendency contain any thing immoral or
otherwise improper for the Stage I The Lord Chamber-
lain of HIS MAJESTY'S Household do by virtue of my
140 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
Office and in pursuance of the Act of Parliament in that
case provided Allow the Performance of the said typed
copy at your Theatre with the exception of all Words and
Passages which are specified by the Examiner in the
endorsement of this License and without any further
variations whatsoever.
Given under my hand this 22nd day of Dec. 1905.
G. A. Redford,
Examiner of Plays.
ALTHORP
Lord Chamberlain.
THE PROGRAMME
For the benefit of the Royal Waterloo Hospital
for Women and Children :
In the presence of
Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Albany
and many ladies and gentlemen interested in the hospital.
Mr Luther Munday presents
a new and original satire in three acts
entitled " The Assignation," by Mr Hamilton Aide.
Also
The first stage production in England of " La Ballade du
Desespere " by M. Murger and Herman Bemberg
at the New Theatre, London,
kindly lent by Sir Charles Wyndham
on Thursday, December 7, 1905.
Following a previous performance given by the same caste
at the Grand Stand, Ascot, by permission of the Trustees,
on the preceding Monday
under the patronage of
H. R. H. Princess Christian of Schleswig-Holstein.
The play has been rehearsed for about six weeks in as
many theatres kindly lent by their respective Lessees.
Mr Shiel Barry has stage managed under Mr Aide's
direction.
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 141
The Hon. Arthur Stanley has acted as Treasurer
with the assistance of Mr Leverton and Mr Mills.
H.H. THE Ranee of Sarawak with the Grey Friars
Orchestra have provided the music.
"THE ASSIGNATION"
A Satire in Three Acts, by Hamilton AiDl.
PERSONS OF THE DRAMA.
Sir Claude Flamborough Mr Shiel Barry
The Earl of Strongitharm . Mr Harvey Long
Lord Grimsby .
Colonel Calshot
Randal Goring .
Philip Lewston .
Rippingale
Smith, Butler
Thomas, Footman
John .
Mr Ralph Alderson
. Mr Bertram Steer
Major Norton
Mr Gerald Du Maurier
By permission of Mr. Chas. H. Frohmann
. Mr Leopold Myers
Mr Erin Maturin
. Mr R. Walter
Mr Henley Attwater
Lady Flamborough .
Countess of Strongitharm
Lady Grimsby .
Mrs Lewston .
Lady Marcia Steele
Mrs Rippingale
Miss Honiton .
Mrs Screwton .
. Miss Ethel Irving
By permission of Mr. Tom B. Davies
Miss Marie Illington
By permission of Mr. Paul Rubens
Miss Genevieve Ward
. Miss Edyth Olive
By permission of Mr Lewis Waller
Miss Diana Raymond
Mrs Augustus Loftus
Miss M. Milman
Miss Florence le Clercq
142 CHKONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
I have something to relate about a Ucence. It
occurred during my term of office with Tree. Tree
produced " Trilby," and a stage licence was neces-
sary for the protection of English rights. Several
dramatic authors were writing against time to adapt
Du Maurier's masterpiece and produce it first upon
the English stage ; Tree was in America and wired
me to protect Paul Potter's version, and to im-
mediately carry out the rules of the Lord Chamber-
lain's department as to the granting of a licence.
Accordingly a bill was printed and exhibited outside
the Haymarket Theatre announcing the performance
of " Trilby." According to law, somebody had to
pay for admission, so I went into the street and gave
somebody a pound to come, who bought a "stall, and
was the only member of the public present. The real
play was on the high seas en route to me, so the only
course open was to write a skeleton play myself,
culled from the novel, and to call it " Trilby," drama-
tised by Paul Potter. I explained this to Mr Piggott
and Mr Tupper, the licensor and deputy-Hcensor of
plays (Bendall and Charlie Brookfield were of later
date), and also that negotiations with Mr Du Maurier
for the sole rights of the play had been properly
arranged with Mr Tree. They told me that under
the circumstances the copyright performance might
hold good for the time, but that directly the real
play arrived it was to be lodged at the office of the
licensor. This was accordingly done. The curtain
went up on the three acts with just sufficient text
copied from the book to make a skeleton plot ; there
was hardly any dialogue. I forget who read my
sheets of foolscap, but I know there was not a single
actor or actress amongst them. I took the part of
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 143
Svengali ; the charwoman read the part of " Trilby,"
in boots and stockings, so she may or may not have
had inverted dimples on her little pink toes; the
carpenter and the gas men read the other parts.
We used any scenery that happened to be set, and
thus was produced, simultaneously in New York and
London, one of the greatest successes of its day.
What a comedy in itself is this comedy of censor-
ship. Springtime should be censored — she whose
first breath radiates greater influence than all the
books and plays, good or bad, written since the
world began.
CHAPTER X
The Animals Hospital — Vivisection — F. W. H. Myers — Maeter-
linck — Sir John Astley — Stepniak — Goring Thomas — Pelle-
grini — Browning — Beardsley — Sir Henry Thompson — Henry
Arthur Jones — Ouida — Zola.
For many years I have been honorary treasurer to
the Animals Hospital of the Dumb Friends' League,
acting as chairman more than once at the annual
meetings. There I began to experience some side-
lights of the feminine heart-beat regarding animals,
especially on the subject of vivisection, when it
heavily and lightly syncopates and bombinates some-
where between a bomb and a bon-bon. Their general
meetings were, however, guided by a committee of
taste, nay, sometimes even by taste itself. I do not
mean to be critical, for they all work very hard, and
enthusiasm ought never to be discouraged even if
it takes oblique turns. The Animals Hospital (Our
Dumb Friends' League), Hugh Street, close to
Victoria Station, deserves help and needs it. Time
was when maidens got them to a nunnery, but it is
more satisfying to help the Animals Hospital, with
personal interest, and it is certainly a shorter cut to
selfless love. I am afraid my opinion upon vivi-
section is broadened down to this: in one's effort to
discover cause or effect it might be more humane to
experiment upon rabbits than to blunder amongst
the vitals of hospital children. I admit, however,
144
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 14^
that there are few subjects that draw more violent
opinions than this vexing subject of vivisection. To
one person it is combined sensibiHty and sentimenta-
lism. Such a one will weep over the sufferings of
animals, even though sacrificed in the most sacred of
causes and by the most humane of beings, and yet
perhaps the same person will take little account of
real cruelty, even if inflicted from pure wantonness.
A keeper sets his traps, a rabbit gets caught by
the leg, and dies in agony, while its young are left
to slowly starve. Trimmers are set, and the big fish
finds himself caught, and has to wait until exhaustion
settles him, and nobody minds! But everybody
means well ; even the duck didn't mean to be insolent
when he shouted Quack! Quack! to the doctor as
he left the bird department of the hospital. It is
difficult to hold the mean between science and senti-
ment. Ruskin resigned the Slade professorship
because science beat sentimentality at the Sheldonian
polls. Religions take various views about animals:
Mohammedanism consigns the dogs of Constantinople
to an island, there to perish of thirst, hunger, and
madness ; they think this more humane than killing
them. On the other hand, in France, from the reign
of Henry IV. to that of Napoleon III., masses were
said on the feast of St Hubert for all dogs of what-
ever breed. It is rare, however, to find a fine, all-
round character who hates animals ; quite ordinary
to meet good people who don't understand them,
and I know many scoundrels who love them. It
is disappointing that holy writ gives little guidance
as to chivalry, patriotism, or love of anmals. To
pass on to general benevolence, Daudet, whom I
met at Hamilton Aide's (I am told his work advances
146 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
in French esteem as Zola's declines) disliked animals,
and yet he was both lovable and generous. He used
to run past mournful starvelings, pressing five-franc
pieces into their hands, and then run away and call
it his practical joke. Hamilton went with Daudet
to see George Meredith. He confirmed Sherard'^
story that both of them hobbling with their infirmities
gripped hands heartily on parting at the station, but
could not unlock their fingers, which were stiff with
rheumatism or gout. As the train was moving out
of the station, Sherard seized Meredith round the
waist with both arms and forcibly broke the grip.
One day in 1888, we had a little table-rapping;
and some great minds take this so-called spiritualism
seriously. At this party were Alec Yorke, F. W.
Myers, Hamilton Aide, Mr and Mrs Alfred Scott-
Gatty, Lord Ronald Gower, Ranee Brooke, my
wife and myself, and one other. The whole thing
seemed to me then, as now, little more than an
interesting round game ; but after reading " The
Survivor of Man," I feel dissatisfied that I never
took the slightest serious interest in psychic research.
In his book, Sir Oliver Lodge wrote thus of
F. W. H. Myers: " To the few who were privileged
to know F. W. H. Myers he is a precious memory,
a memory that will not decay with the passing of
the years. I esteem his friendship as one of the
privileges of my life." Myers married a cousin of
my wife's, and I remind myself with regret how often
I let golden chances pass by of knowing him whom
merely to recall is to-day a delight. Such a one,
indeed, was Myers. Walks and talks we had at Ascot.
Once the subject was Christian Science, then a
new vogue. It is as much how a man listens as
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 147
how he speaks that makes for charm, and Myers
was a Hstener who drew one's best without crushing
one's naturalness by superiority of manner; therein
lay his fascinating personality, at least I thought so.
Over and over again he repeated, as if to himself:
" Sin and sickness are mortal error, both of them
unreal." Again : " With the destroying of sin comes
the forgiveness of sin." I never quite knew whether
he accepted these tenets; he discussed them with
much breadth and gentleness. The last words I heard
him say on the subject were these : " Whether it is
easier to say thy sins be forgiven thee, or to say
arise and walk." The spell of his influence did not
pass with his presence. Of his writings I was not
competent to judge. George Windham says of
them, " The only recent essay in poetry that chal-
lenges comparison with Shelley is Myers' ' Virgil.' "
Thirty of the leading critics of the world to-day
have in turn Hkened Maurice Maeterlinck's writ-
ings to Marlowe, Webster, Poe, Ibsen, Shakes-
peare, Swedenborg, Carlyle, Goethe, and Schopen-
hauer; and found an affiliation to the great Stoic
Marcus AureHus and the Pre-Christian sages,
Socrates and Plato. My humble tribute extends to
his personality, he is so human with proper solid
muscles and sturdy build ; he keeps the love of
music within bounds of moderation, he is a voluntary
exile, he wished no more than a modest post in the
pubHc service of his native Belgium and it was re-
fused him. His government declined to make writers
functionaries, and did not decorate writers because
they were not functionaries ! Maeterlinck refuses her
overtures now; he finds his expansion outside his
country and his century and beyond their periods.
148 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
Another friend of the same period was the late
Augustus Hare, he of the beady eyes and humorous
mouth, who told ghost stories and wrote clever guide-
books, who told me how he came into possession of
Queen Anne's old statue from St Paul's Churchyard.
He asked permission of the Bishop of London, the
Lord Mayor, the Dean of St Paul's, the County Coun-
cil, and the Archdeacon of London to take it away.
They none of them had power to say " Yes," and they
none of them seemed to wish to say " No," so he
quietly walked off with it, and there it stands an
imposing figure in his garden near Hastings, but it
cost a small fortune to get it there. One used to
come to him for information upon most subjects,
and rarely came in vain. There are many admirers
of his water-colour painting.
Of the old order which I wish never changed were
Sir John Astley (The Mate) and his two cousins.
Sir Wroth Lethbridge and Sir Henry Brownrigg, all
three dead, but deeply held in affectionate memory.
The Mate sent me the first copy of his " Fifty Years,"
but admitted, when I reminded him, that he had
forgotten to put in the following story : " A young
thief starting on his career at Ascot was enterprising
enough so secure The Mate's watch and chain the
first day. He took it to the chief of the gang, who
congratulated the lad and told him that he showed
great promise, but asked him who he stole it from.
So, when the gang found it belonged to The Mate,
it was immediately sent back; but the boy did not
know why, and expressed his apology thus : ' I beg
your pardon, sir, I did not know you was one of us.' "
The late Lord Henry Thynne, a friend of whom
I hold so many pleasant memories, told ipe he re-
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 149
membered as a child in the " three bottle days " a
page boy whose sole duty was to loosen the long
neckcloths of the guests after dinner, to save them
from choking. One has heard of the special pro-
fession of a dice-swallower, a man who was kept in
certain gambling hells to swallow the dice in case the
place was raided; but perhaps the strangest of ec-
centric professions was that of a humpback who let
out his hump by the hour for the use of stockjobbers
to write on during a panic or a boom. It was Lord
Henry who gave me carte blanche to bring who I
liked to his house most week-ends at Brighton. I
exercised the privilege, and we were all very happy,
and very often too. There I met the great Panjan-
drum of the Conservative party. Lord Abergavenny ;
together they asked me to lunch with them at the
Junior Carlton to judge cigars. I thought I detected
in Lord Henry's merry twinkle some practical joke.
We had played so many upon others that suspicions
were watchful. Martin, the best club secretary that
ever lived, brought round several boxes of cigars,
keeping to the last a wonderfully got-up box printed
over with every sort of Spanish and other inscription,
which no one reads, as very few can. When we came
to the cigar we first took off a gold leaf, then a silver
paper, then its little cumberbund. During all this
Martin described its marvellous quality, which the
other judges confirmed. I grew suspicious and threw
mine in the fire. It was a risky thing to do, but I
was right ; the cigar was made specially for beginners,
and though, like the curate's egg, parts of it were ex-
cellent, parts were not.
Stepniak, the Russian revolutionist, used a vitriol
pen. His views stood for wiping tyrants off the
150 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
face of the earth. He had a voice gentle and sympa-
thetic Hke a young dove's. Miss Holland and I,
dressed appropriately, went to hear him speak in
Hyde Park once to a large crowd of chubby little
anarchists. John Burns, then a sociaHst, was also
speaking in the Park. It was quite an exciting even-
ing. Stepniak, after passing nihiHstic dangers, was
killed in London, run over on the underground rail-
way. His personality left a pleasant impression,
though he did murder a Russian. Like Stepniak,
poor Arthur Goring Thomas was killed by a passing
train. His tendency to self-depreciation hampered his
brilliant opportunities ; he had absolutely no com-
mercial push, but his lost gifts as a composer are
not unwept and not unhonoured ; but if unsung only
because the royalty system gives the singer little
choice of songs ; he sings for speculative publishers
nowadays. Arthur Goring Thomas was, as a com-
poser, influenced much by Gounod. I was with
him and Randegger through the rehearsal of his
" Nadeshda," and call to mind Barton MacGucken's
fine performance. He wore a false putty nose,
which completely changed Mac's Irish appearance.
I think Mile Baldi (now Lady Tosti) created the
name part, or it might have been in " Esmeralda,"
also written by Thomas. Some part of the former
opera he wrote in our little flat at Park Side, where
Lawrence Kellie and Frank Lambert also composed
early songs of theirs. I have been honoured with
the dedication of a score of songs, and I feel much
pride and pleasure in recording and acknowledging
this compliment. Rutland Barrington, Kellie, Mrs
Salmond, Edward Solomon, Miss Holland, Hamilton
Aide, Hope Temple, Maude Valerie White, and many
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 151
others have dedicated songs to me, some only in my
album; but fifteen songs have been pubHshed with
dedications upon them, and some, I blushingly add,
also bore the words, " sung by Luther Munday." These
lyrical god-children serve as beads of my rosary of
friendships. As a singer I never merited such
tributes.
I am reminded of Sir John Millais by a letter from
his daughter, who writes : " Perhaps your book will
go to America and be the means of discovering my
father's greatest subject-painting, ' The Crown of
Love,' for which Miss Dorothy Tennant sat. It was
bought by Mr Vanderbilt and sold at his death;
but its whereabouts is unknown, and it was never
reproduced or photographed. My father enjoyed
painting Lady Stanley and Mrs Frederick Myers,
he admired them so much, and at that time enjoyed
such good health and great spirits." I used often to
meet Sir John at the Lyric.
A precious document I insert here, a letter from
Ruskin which ought to have been addressed to me
as it was an indirect answer to my letter to ask his
help for a mutual friend in financial trouble. This
was quite a number of years ago, and I cannot
exactly remember the date, and Ruskin's letter does
not help me; but his) literary trustees, both old
acquaintances of mine, E. T. Cook and A. Wedder-
burn, gave me permission to publish it. It serves
no purpose to mention the addressee ; the name
frequently appears in these memoirs, but the subject
is private.
" Pardon my sending you a brief note (you will
probably think you have much more to pardon). It
162 CHEONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
was wholly impossible to write to you before this
morning, the documents had not returned from my
lawyers. We have examined them, and if anyone
else were willing at the moment to lend you the
money, and I heard of it, and thought Mrs
cared for my opinion, I should say ' Don't borrow
it.' Take instantly what must come, then live in two
rooms, and lay by your money. Both you and your
good wife will work with ten times the heart, when you
put your money in bank, that you would to pay for
living under a gilded cornice, and to liquidate a debt.
It is far more difficult for me to say this, when I am
myself the person to whom you appeal, but I say it
decisively nevertheless.
" Ever sincerely yours,
" J. RUSKIN.
" I write to my lawyers to-day, telling them to
assist you by any protective measures in their power,
if things come to the worst."
It is not for me to comment on this picturesque
figure, but one looks in vain for evidence of his
economic theory and social conditions, and when-
ever I ask information from painters and architects
concerning Ruskin's contribution to the theory of
art, they say he talked beautifully ; and the spirit of
this letter shows that he also wrote beautifully, so
what matters though some writers bracket his failings
with those of Samuel Johnson and Carlyle?
To come back to more familiar reminiscences.
Carlo Pellegrini, with his uncut nails an inch beyond
his finger-tips, his ignorance of English, which aftr,r
years of being petted here only grew worse with
time, was a quaint personality ; professionally known
'^ -l(.''A»,tVa
-ii/ in-
/
-^,/
>1
T
i.
"-"■■■■■■ ."l ■
>x
ttc-J--,. ^, ,
MRIEF CHRONICLES OF
Mr. George Du Maurier. Earl Roberts, K.G., K.P., P C
Ruskin. G.C.B., G.C.S.I., G.C.I. e'
Sir Joseph Barnby. O.M., V.C, D.C.L., D.Lit
.Sandow, 1889. LL.D.
Ellen Terry.
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 153
to the world as " Ape " (he and Leslie Ward were
the greatest caricaturists of their day). Many an
afternoon have I sat at Pagani's in Great Portland
Street listening to his quaint idiosyncracies, and his
good-humoured but quite unnecessary jealousy of
other artists, leavened with unconscious profanity.
Conversation was kept up by Isodore de Lara, Tosti,
and Mario de Costa and others, who related their ex-
periences and took part in many practical jokes. I
remember them whitewashing a cab horse. " Sem "
and " Max " are the virile leaders for the world of
caricature at the time I write. Perhaps some are
unaware that " Spy " drew for " Vanity Fair " a year
before " Ape " joined the staff. Among my treasures
are twenty-one original drawings by " Spy," all gifts
from this incomparable caricaturist.
I think I have said that I met George Meredith
at Sir Walter Palmer's when he lived at Reading. I
remember Meredith saying that he could only speak
sitting down ; standing up to make a speech killed
his ideas. He lost something by his suggestion that
marriage should be only on lease; but I shall not
tattoo these pages with efforts at criticising, only try
to call to mind sayings and doings of those whom I
have met. Israel Zangwill said that the two greatest
writers who have sinned against the laws of writing
are Browning and Meredith, the one in verse, the
other in prose. Here are a few more acid drops:
Carlyle said that Walt Whitman wrote as though the
town bull had learnt to hold a pen. In earlier days,
Pope said of Dr Johnson that a dictionary maker
might know the meaning of one word but not of two
put together.
Neither Browning nor Emerson saw anything
154 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
in Shelley's poems. Carlyle speaks of Bronte's
Rochester as a wooden figure in the shape of a man.
Swinburne speaks of Rochester as the one supreme
masculine figure. Carlyle of Browning, " For my
soul's salvation I could not make out the meaning of
this Agamemnon." Carlyle of Swinburne, " There
is nothing the least intellectual in anything he writes."
Keats, the son of a livery-stable keeper, appealed
to Tennyson as the greatest poet of them all ; while
Carlyle said of Keats, " Isabella might have been
written by a seamstress who had eaten rich food and
then slept upon her back." Heine described Liszt
to Chopin as a swaggering little insect ; George Sand
said of Chopin there was nothing constant about him
but his cough. She called his heart a cemetery; he
called hers a necropolis!
But to return and chronicle my friendships. Twice
I dined with Browning, once at H. A.'s and the
other time at Mrs Toynbee's. She was the mother
of Arnold Toynbee, whose work is a common-sense
remnant of the pre-Raphaelite ideals. The personal
impression Browning made on me was not command-
ing, though it was a refreshment to have met him,
and it exercised a spell over the imagination. Other
forces seemed to be working in his nature. He
regarded the fact of being born a poet as some secret
he was delighted to conceal. He was content with
associates so much his inferior in intellect, and his
interest in society amongst dull people and surround-
ings were surprising to the onlooker. He never
suffered from boredom, and in manner he was sincere,
and when he left we certainly missed his personality
because his reputation stood so high. One would
hardly have been surprised had he been introduced
\:,. n, /.I. /-.^ ,. ^ /^.n-U. »■' ''■'^*-'^ ■
/
/ ■
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 155
as a leader in any branch of social life ; but I fancy
one would not have judged him a poet, much less as
the man who shared with Tennyson the laurels of
the nineteenth century.
One of his sayings is : " Beauty is a symbol of
hidden worth, and the flesh a demonstration of spiri-
tual handiwork." When we spoke of clubs, he told me
that the Athenaeum Club, I think it was, had once
posted his name as defaulter by mistake, although
the banker had paid his subscription ; " I came down
on them like thunder," and he thumped his fist. It
is said that he knew nothing about " Sonnets from
the Portuguese " till two or three years after his
marriage, and he wished he could have kept them
for himself and not have published them. The
following will interest because it is generally
supposed that his famous poem, " Good news from
Ghent," was historical or legendary: —
" 19 Warwick Crescent,
" May 29th, 1885.
" Dear Mr Munday, — ' Good News from Ghent '
is neither historical nor legendary, being altogether
an invention of my own. I wrote the poem at sea,
inspired by the wish to be once more on the back of
a horse at home. All the rest is imaginary.
" With every kind wish,
" Believe me. Dear Mr Munday,
" Yours very sincerely,
" Robert Browning.
" To Luther Munday, Esq.,
"117 Park Street, Park Lane."
Swinburne said that Rosetti's " Sister Helen " is
156 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
out of all sight or thought or comparison the greatest
ballad in modern England. Again, to many of his
contemporaries Gray was a tangle of difficulties,
while critics of authority said later that Wordsworth,
Shelley, and Coleridge wrote unintelligibly. But of
our own poor Browning what did they not say?
Tennyson speaks of Bacon's essays as " bundles of
antitheses offering weapons to combatants," and of
William Morris that " he has gone crazy." Carlyle
remarks of Dizzy, " I wonder how long John Bull
will allow this Jew to dance on his belly? " One
man talks of " The inspired prophet of Sanity."
Away trot all his little followers in rhapsody about
so wonderful a phrase. Listen to Oscar Wilde on
George Meredith. " Who can define him ? His
style is chaos illumined by lightning. As a writer he
has mastered everything except language. As a
novelist he can do everything except tell a story.
As an artist he is everything except articulate."
Then read in contrast Le Galliene's wonderful and
constant appreciation of the Master. " He sings of
nature not because he worships her in some vague,
far-off way as one might the abstract woman; but
because he has loved and worshipped her as a man
his wife, lying in her arms eye to eye, breath to
breath. He has lived with her day by day for many
years, he knows all her moods of summer and winter,
of joy and travail, strange moods of contradiction
hard to bear, yet, alike in one as in another, he has
never lost his faith that her heart is love, love the
great volcano." Byron said that " Southey had a
fine head, and that nothing but taste was wanting to
make the inside equally attractive." It seems as if
egoism was surely the supreme psychological link
r^
->~ /;*"
i-^'j^ijana ii^yy'
;....
77"^
'^U-/fy
-.:^#Ba:u^tini:i.rj^.. .
s^pr i.\^o Races agains t. Csm bncigcAS
; -^;r j SIX wggks' hos pitality -^y-.
■^CVL^ ,\lkA^ Cm-^
4«^ ii.>^4^'''^^'^'^^
K^^v.oiA??'?^,
rui ^^\v>c:>cv,t
Oj^ iut^ 'hM^ Txi^' "iuM/ , /
Ur^-
BRIEF CHROXICLES OF . ^, ,
Justin H. McCarthy. Oxford University Boating Clul..
Garter King-of-Arnis.
\V. H. Mallock.
Rudyard Kipling.
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 157
between them all. Le Gallienne and Aubrey Beards-
ley I had met at the Lyric, the latter an English boy
born at Brighton in 1872, died in his twenty-sixth
year, a famous man. His drawings, almost always in
black and white, were " perverse " in EngUsh and per-
haps morbid, but they are regarded as unique pages
in the great portfolio of the world's art. He himself a
prodigy and a genius, was ill when I knew him, con-
sumption having already claimed him. Of his art,
perhaps the best example was of Mrs Pat Campbell ;
it hangs in a place of honour at the Berhn Museum.
The only honour that England has done him up to
now is through the medium of the auction-room,
where the price of his work stands high.
The auction-room is the pubHc purse that registers
the fluctuating value of works of art — art is merely
opinion. ;^ 14,050 was recently paid for a painting
by Hoppner, a man who was popular, totally eclipsed,
and triumphantly resurrected, all within the century.
He was the rival of Sir Thomas Lawrence. My
friends Berenson or Lionel Cust or Claude Phillips
can, by opinion, make a picture worth anything or
nothing.
Sir Henry Thompson was a doctor of medicine
(one of the sciences which resembles art in that it is
not fixed). His social flight took him beyond the
boundaries of his profession. He wrote as " Pen
Oliver," was a fine painter and art critic, and almost
the first advocate in England of cremation ; one of
his patients who died after an operation was Napoleon
HL French repubHcans sent Thompson a letter
warm in thanks for his humanity in having so ably
made away with a tyrant. His " octaves " were much
sought after. These were dinner-parties of eight. His
158 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
guests were chosen for their conversation, which was
regarded by him as the hall-mark of intellectual merit.
Henry Arthur Jones (I forget if his name is forti-
fied with a hyphen) I have known in connection
with the production of his plays by Wyndham. For
some charity a play was produced in which all the
acting parts were taken by authors. The late Cap-
tain Marshall insisted upon the much-coveted " And "
being placed before his name in the playbill. " No,"
said Burnand, " you cannot have the ' and ' without
the 'art'!"
I felt a shock when I was introduced to Quida
at the Langham Hotel, whither I was taken by a
friend to counteract any emotional display of grati-
tude that she might show; for poor Louisa de la
Ramee was at that time in a chronic state of hard-up ;
friend after friend took it in turn to help her. My
earliest literary susceptibilities revelled in and were
satisfied by her drawings of guardsmen, who bathed
in scent, and of ladies who threw guinea peaches at
flies; but Guida's description of sensuous luxury is
Sunday-school writing compared to Pliny's on the
same subject ; he says that Cleopatra gave for use in
her bath the equivalent of sixteen pounds sixteen
shillings per pound for unguents of scent, impercep-
tible to the person inundated with them, but percep-
tible to others. However, Guida's silly vanities and
petty weaknesses disappear when she writes about
her beloved Florence and about animals. When I
gazed on her I thought of Verschoyle's words : " I
had lived long enough to know that there were other
feminine virtues in this world besides that of chastity."
I recollect a reception at Drury Lane supposed
to have been given by litterateurs, in honour of
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 159
Zola, who was paying a visit to England; the
reception was not well represented by men of
letters. Flying adjectives, bitter adverbs, and poor
little orphaned ailches got in; by invitation, too.
You really had to hold up your feet, they dropped
so heavily. So I whispered to Sir Augustus
Druriolanus, who was organising the affair, in
classic verse, " Make Zolaesque this damned
burlesque, and dance to the Guards' string band."
" Righto! " replied Gus, keeping to the classic style,
and signalled to the orchestra, which struck up a
waltz. I danced with Madame Zola. Round the
suburbs or the outskirts of my charming partner I
revolved, while she like a gyroscope seemingly
firmly planted turned on her own axis ; and Mrs
Munday danced with Zola. During the intervals,
Zola said many interesting things: that he never
badgered his actors with instructions when he super-
intended the production of a play, but left them to
follow their own initiative. Also that he was rejected
at his examination for the Baccalaureate degree
through inefficiency of composition. It is strange that
he never got the violet ribbon ; but in a comforting
sort of tone, as if he were consoling himself, he said,
" that neither Gambetta, Lamartine, nor Balzac had
ever received the red ribbon of France." Since
then I have read what Mr Sherard published, and
only wish I had known it soon enough to tell it to
Zola, though he, of course, knew it, namely, that a
minister of public instruction in France, having
lunched well, handed the list of those who were to
receive the Falmas Acadamaques to all who were in
the restaurant, and asked them to add their names
if they chose. They chose, and in due course they
160 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
all got the violet ribbon which was denied to Dumas
and Zola ! Among Zola's memorable sayings is this :
" The knowledge of vice is necessary for the con-
stituting of virtue."
On the occasion referred to elsewhere, when I
met the late Sir Robert Peel, he told me that he
recollected the Speaker temporarily vacating the
chair, and, accompanied by the majority of the
members present, adjourned to watch the race for
Doggett's coat and badge as it passed Westminster.
Also, that on a motion by Pitt, the House of
Commons adjourned and went down to the theatre
to see Betty play " Hamlet." So it would seem that
Doggett and Betty played an integral part ^n the
national life. It is well enough known that Ministers
always keep closely in touch with the Press; but
read the Delane Memoirs to find the true relations
that existed. It is difficult to credit the actual grovel-
lings of great Ministers of State to the editor of a
great daily paper The Times. Never can one sneer
again at the chicken and champagne methods so
often the cause of quarrelling between actor-managers
and critics.
A friend who knew a little about billiards and
chess told this amusing story, that he had beaten
the amateur champions of England at both games.
" You see," he explained, " there is no merit about it :
I played the champion billiard player at chess, of
which he knew nothing, and the champion chess
player at billiards, of which he knew less."
From time to time, after the manner of weaklings,
I fancied myself a little at writing sonnets, notwith-
standing the fact that I had had one snubbing from
Yates, editor of the Worlds " Twenty years have
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 161
passed," said I, " and I may have improved"; so
I sent up to Sir James Knowles this time my sonnet
called " Why do I live ? " His reply was, " You live,
dear Munday, because you sent your poem by post
and did not bring it yourself."
" All but two of you are rogues, thieves, and
liars ! " exclaimed in my presence a certain noble
lord, white with anger, in a billiard-room at a little
pot-house. Instead of a huge scene, I noticed that
all the little crawlers' faces wore a satisfied smile,
and wonderingly I whispered, " What can this
mean?" "Well, you see," said his lordship in a
shaky tone, " to save the situation I said all but two ;
really every one of them were blackguards, but if
any one had shown his annoyance, he would have
admitted that he was excluded from the two." Here
are six lines written me recently by my old friend
Sir Gilbert Parker, M.P., who has already accom-
plished so much that much is still expected. We
met over Tree's production of " Seats of the
Mighty," and his lines are apt in a book of
friendships :
" Give me the light heart, Heaven above —
Give me the hand of a friend,
Give me one fine high spirit to love —
I'll abide my fate to the end.
I will help where I can, I will cherish my own,
Nor walk the steep way of this world alone."
Gilbert Parker.
" To Luther Munday from Sir Hubert Jerningham :
"They call me friend a polyglot,
Le glot n'est pas terme poli,
What I may be I do not wot,
Mais je suis toujours votre ami."
CHAPTER XI
Portraits — Sculpture — Miniatures — Whistler — Yates — Moore — The-
atrical Reflections — Hermann Vezin — The Censorship — J. M.
Barrie.
One day, just for sport, I drew the likeness of the
editor of an illustrated paper. I had drawn hundreds
of portraits before, but this one led to my getting
commissions for over half a hundred portraits in
chalk, which I produced within two years. In the
pursuit of technique I fancy I lost much of the little
gift of getting a likeness. I have seen a child draw
a likeness with a reality which lessened by taking
lessons. There is a great gulf between natural
talent and trained effort. George Belcher gave me
technical advice most kindly. I made quite a little
money so long as I was keen at it, and I felt very
proud at seeing my drawings exposed at railway
stations. The following have been pubHshed: —
H.I.M. The Emperor of Germany
Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman
Ulster King of Arms
Mrs Eddy
General Sir W. H. Mackinnon
Lord Londesborough
Lady Virginia Sandars
Lord Headfort
The Hon. Stephen Coleridge
Lord Battersea
General Sir Bindon Blood
162
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 163
Joseph Chamberlain
George Alexander
H. Herkomer
Keir Hardie
T. P. O'Connor
M. Massenet
H. Plunkett Greene
Lady Bective
General Botha
Forbes Robertson
A. Chichele Plowden
Winston Churchill
Leslie Ward
George Meredith
Cyril Maude
Rodin
H.S.H. Prince Alexander of Teck
M. Coquelin
The Ranee of Sarawak
Sem
Maxim Gorki
The Master of Elibank
Sir Herbert Tree
The late King of Portugal
Frank Lambert
Sir John Hare
Lloyd George
Mrs Pat Campbell
Kennerley Rumford
Fanny Brough
His Majesty King George
More or less flattering letters came from some
sitters, and some called to express appreciation,
amongst whom was Rodin. It is the same in all
things. Those who have experienced the difficulties
are the kindest in their criticism. I soon became
aware that the principal value the public attach
to illustrative art is the subject value of the hour,
that is why so many of my drawings were of
164 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
party politicians in power at the time, whom I
was commissioned to draw at short notice. Few
artists can choose their subjects. Stocks can be
transferred in the wink of an eye, but it is unfair to
try to pay for art by the time it takes. This reminds
one of the foundation of Whistler's fame as a wit,
who, when asked in court if he did not complete the
particular work in a few hours replied, " Yes, but it
took me my lifetime to learn how to do it."
A Belgian friend, Jan Van Beers, a great painter
living in Paris, used to come over to England every
year and give an exhibition of his works. He was
very popular and wished to celebrate his departure
by entertaining his friends, so asked me to help him.
Between us we drew up and carried through the
following programme. About eighty of the leading
artistes and litterateurs accepted his invitation, no
ladies being invited.
The Duke of Marlborough took the chair, and from
Blenheim sent fifty young oak trees which were
placed all round the table, making a forest frame-
work for Jan Van Beer's pictures, and leaving over-
head a white space for a calico reflector. After each
course the lights were suddenly turned out. First
hundreds of live birds were let loose from an
enormous pie, then the trees were lighted by
electricity, then Spy's portraits of many present were
reflected from magic-lantern slides on the ceiling.
There were bowls of perfume, and the light shone
through pink-silk tablecloths, on tables made of very
thick glass. Speeches by leading artistes ; last of all
the divine Melba, unseen, sang Gounod's " Ave
Maria " with Holman's accompaniment on the 'cello.
Quite entrancing it was, beyond all description.
IAN VAN BEERS.
f^^ // -A^t
-(> i^/L-M.,.*^
4p/ a
C^ / '^hyx^^^.'-t^-
^^^^^ ^ /'
PADEREWSKI.
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 165
Let me now turn to the sober subject of sculpture
— which for a time I undertook seriously and enjoyed
most thoroughly. I had a set back at two clubs
where art for art's sake was the test of eligibility —
and where, unlike the Arts and the Garrick Clubs,
they did not suffer amateurs gladly, and I honour
them for their consistency — though I felt naturally
hurt when my first portraits in bronze were returned
and I was only allowed to enter the clubs as a guest
ineligible for membership because my art fell short
of the standard test.
Sculpture is not exactly what it seems to the
uninitiated, wherefore I will explain briefly the road
one has to travel.
The sun on sensitive media depicts what the eye
does not see ; that is like the discerning eye of art,
the hidden force in the artist. Some suppose that
a sculptor simply chips at a stone, but this is not so
in this age. A rough outline in iron is first provided
to support a model in clay ; there are about twenty
tools, but the sculptor generally uses two, namely,
one finger and one thumb.
The support is fixed to a revolving stand, for,
unlike painting on the flat, sculpture must be
perfected from every angle. The clay must be kept
damp till the model is finished (possibly a year) to
prevent unequal shrinkage, then a plaster model is
mechanically taken from the clay. Ladies who wish
to vary typewriting and hospital nursing may be glad
to know that quite a comfortable income may be
made by plaster casting. It is not necessary to have
capital or the least artistic taste or talent, only
common intelligence and a patient desire to acquire
the necessary technique, but this is a digression.
166 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
The artist practically ends with his clay. Whether
the clay when finished is to be completed in marble
or bronze is a matter to be settled outside the range
of art. Pointing in marble is practically the same
as it was thousands of years ago, and in the British
Museum you can still see the black points faintly
defined on the antique marble busts. The sculptor
only puts the finishing touches, leaving the rest to
mechanical labour. So little does this labour draw
upon creative art that it can be done equally well by
the mechanic upside down.
Houses and the climate are unsuited for sculpture
in England, indeed there is a great deal to discourage
this art. Only portrait commissions are profitable.
The risk and expense attached to sculpture are
excessive ; a hundred pounds can easily be spent on
a block of marble, and when the last chip is being
removed there may be only then revealed a dis-
colouration of the marble ; one of the eyes may be
black or the tip of the nose, which would render the
whole of the work ridiculous. Then there are the
sitter's fees, about five pounds a week, sometimes
lasting for months, and the pointing fees about the
same, and this may go on for months. Then the
chance of the work not being accepted at the galleries,
the risk and expense of getting it there and back,
and last but by no means least, the chance of not
selling it at all. One often hears of a sculptor whose
work has cost him out of pocket from a hundred to
a thousand pounds, only to be followed by the
mortification of having it sent back to his studio.
In these depressed times sculpture and spite are
about the most expensive of luxuries. A critic in
sculpture must be acquainted with its technical subtle-
SCULPTURE.
(Archbishop Mathew)
BY LUTHER MUKDAY.
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 167
ties, for no art is more subject to tricks. An antique
bronze for instance could be reproduced and tricked
in colour by the skilful use of acids ; even in still life,
remember that age is not always venerable, something
intuitive ; an appreciation of the small things all go
to make the sum of quahty. In short a sculptor
must have feeling, must be able to draw a likeness
and reduce or enlarge it in true proportion without
relying on measurement.
A sculptor must not feel annoyance if his work is
dependent upon top light, because it is only to be
found in specially prepared rooms. He must remem-
ber that there is nothing either beautiful or ugly in
sculpture but shadow makes it so ; that a bull's-eye
lantern throwing light horizontally upon Michael
Angelo's work would reveal it without form and
void.
Colour is got by shadow ; black eyes are only deep
cuttings, and pale-blue eyes merely the surface less
deeply depressed. My httle knowledge of sculpture
was picked up by watching artists. H.S.H. Prince
Victor of Hohenlohe, Countess Feodora Gleichen,
whose fine work adorns Hyde Park, and Lord
Ronald Sutherland Gower, whose memorials of
Shakespeare ad rn Stratford-on-Avon and are re-
produced at Hammerfield.
To the dislike for measured work and a disregard
for social convention was linked in Lord Ronald a
fine taste (he it was who first suspected the Rokeby
Venus), a most versatile brain, and a distinguished
and sympathetic personality. There were others who
were kind. Colonel Macleay, the Hon. George
Gordon, and Captain Wilkinson Ulster King of
Arms.
168 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
These amateurs, with advice and critical help,
started me in the pursuit of an art that has given
me more genuine pleasure than any other pursuit.
Friends, too, amongst well-known professional sculp-
tors: George Wade, Gotto, Zeitlen, and Derwent
Wood, A.R.A., welcomed me at all times to their
studios. This means that their models permitted me
to be present when they were sitting, which was the
first recognition I experienced as an artist, for it is
not the thing to allow a mere novice into a studio
where a model is sitting.
A story is told of a model who fainted because
she detected an inartistic gaze, and I love to believe
that the Susannahs still live who faint in the face
of the elders or youngers.
It is one of the pleasures of my declining months
to spend a day in the studios at Chelsea and to accept
hospitahty at the Chelsea Arts Club, where I meet
the best and the ablest, who love their art for art's
sake, and are free of silly side and affectation,
and who will not elect candidates, as I said before,
who are mere loafers.
I have produced up to date in plaster, marble, or
bronze, portrait busts of the following, and exhibited
them at small galleries : —
General Watson
< Admiral Dunlop
Sir Archibald Napier, Bart.
Edmund Dickens
Miss Laura Bush
Miss Lily Hanbury
Mr Wilde, of Egham
Captain Mountenay Jephson
Hamilton Aide
Major MacMahon, F.R.S., R.A.
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 169
David Bispham
Mr Price
Mrs Howard (nee Irene Bishop)
The Vicar of Bray
Lord Wrottesley
Major Clement
Cecil Mocatta
Matthew Horan
Miss Seymour
Colonel Chesebrough
Colonel Black
Colonel Sir Fitzroy Clayton, K.C.V.O.
Sir Henry Vavasour, Bart.
Archbishop Matthew, D.D.
After tiring somewhat of sculpture, I made some
efforts at painting miniatures. I did not get far
towards success in this. Lord Tankerville, perhaps
the best amateur, helped me with this letter :
" Pick out other people's brains but do not smother
your own individuality ; copy and closely examine
Cosway and learn what use he made of gum, you will
find that for the flesh tints a wash of colour with gum is
first put on, it is then worked up without gum, then
gum is used again after the deep shadows are laid on,
but only then. Compare bad work with Cosway's
and see the results of excessive use of gum or body
colour or both. Use a wet brush and a minimum of
colour, and do not hide the ivory's texture. This is
the result of my own meagre experience."
Alfred Gilbert, a genius without a guide, was a
great English artist at his best. I last saw him at
Bruges in 1907. In some respects Gilbert reminded
me of Whistler.
One day I strolled with Whistler along the
embankment up to Chelsea Bridge — a more disgust-
ing time could not possibly have been chosen — it
170 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
was icy cold in a yellowish fog with a soupgon of
frozen rain and an east wind — he was enthralled with
the beauty of the scene, as one in a trance — I caught
a chill mentally and physically. Years after Derwent
Wood took me through the same antics — his studio
is close to Whistler's house ; and now I am develop-
ing the artistic soul plus a taste for thick boots and
heavy underwear — but both Whistler and Wood
were indifferent to these material conditions.
Whistler before his time created a new taste, and
became bankrupt for want of a manager. Whistler's
house and all his belongings were sold for a song.
Hundreds of pictures (think of it!). In later years
one picture was sold for ^5000.
I was with Mr and Mrs Whistler the day before
they crossed over to Paris, and shared the last meal
in their house in Tite Street. (What a book could
be written about Tite Street!) We had two chops be-
tween us three and beer ; he and his wife each gave
me a portion of theirs, and we sat on packed boxes.
I never knew him as " Jimmy," and my friendship
was not intimate enough to offer them solace. I felt
this the more because I discerned forced merriment
in their manner, obviously to hide the deeper
feelings.
Whistler was a misanthrope and keenly sensitive.
His wit does not read well, it depended so much upon
himself and upon his manner and was fanned by his
uncompromising hostility, not only to critics, but, so
it seemed to me, to the world generally. He openly
struck Augustus Moore in a theatre. He lived, how-
ever, to see his claims as an artist shift first from
obscurity, then to toleration, then condemned heartily,
then approved within the limits of a cult, then so
^•^iMV^.-
, iv^
MORTIMER MENPES.
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 171
passionately proclaimed that his greatest admirers
found difficulty in keeping the pace which they
themselves had set. I have a dozen stories about
him but I am afraid they are all known and blown.
The best drawing chance I ever had from life
was behind the scenes at His Majesty's Theatre when
Henry Irving, Tree, and CoqueUn, all three together,
stood to me a while, but though Coquelin accepted
my sketch it was hardly worth lighting his cigarette
with.
Art unlike philosophy is seen through tempera-
ment ; let no chill or doubt put out this eternal fire.
Respecting temperament, Garrick said, " If you can-
not make love to a table or a chair as well as to the
finest woman in the world, you are not and never will
be an artist." This is about what Sir WilKam Rich-
mond meant when he said that the nude or the dude
are as one to the man obsessed in his art.
Solomon J. Solomon I met in early days when
his work was skyed.
Mrs Langtry, with whom I was walking round on
an opening day of the Academy, pointed to the works
of R.A.'s on the line and wittily remarked that even
Solomon in all his glory was not R.A.ed like one of
these.
All about models might be interesting, but space
is limited. The model of all time was Aspasia, the
mistress of Alexander the Great. She has never
been missing from the Altars of CathoHc Cathedrals.
She has suppHed the features of the Virgin Mary
for Raphael, Corregio, and Titian, and even down
to our Sir Joshua Reynolds.
I remember as a child, eight years old, going to
Shute's Theatre in Bristol and seeing Kate and Ellen
172 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
Terry, Madge Robertson (Mrs Kendal), and Henri-
etta Hodson (Mrs Labouchere) whom later I saw as
Jack Sheppard in Old London at the Queen's.
Years later Charlie Jerningham and I dined en
famille with the Laboucheres and we helped Dora
Labouchere (now Marchesa di Rudini) at her first
party. One of the games was to drive a team
of ten children blindfolded. My team fell down-
stairs, but only their mothers were hurt. Labouchere
was a great theatrical manager; he had in his com-
pany at the Queen's, Wyndham, Henry Irving, Toole,
and Ellen Terry. Both Charles and Hubert (now
Sir Hubert) Jerningham were friends of mine. I
met the latter in 1888, and Charles for twenty years
has been a joy to me with his witty cynicisms and
warm-hearted friendship.
Another once familiar friend, now dead, from
whose political principles traceable descent is ob-
vious in certain quarters, and at whose supper-parties
I met the most amusing people, was Edward
Fairfield, C.B., of the Colonial Office.
If he had not been bound in the clerical routine
of a government clerkship he would certainly have
attained distinction as an artist. Here is an amusing
story about him. I noticed how shabby the carpet
was in his room at the Colonial Office. " Yes," he said,
" you see that hole ? That was worn through by
A. B. asking for knighthood. Things got to such a
pass that it amounted to this, either the C. O. must
buy a new carpet, or A. B. must have his knighthood
— result — knighthood ! "
Edmund Yates links one with the past. " Dear
Munday, — You must not expect to succeed in every
line of life, poetry is certainly not your forte."
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 173
This was long ago, when under a summer influence
I wrote a very stupid sonnet, something about a lady
who gave me the key of her heart and changed the
lock the next day. I am thankful to him for not
having published it. Thackeray and Yates quar-
relled, and Charles Dickens intervened. As Yates
would not apologise, his name was removed from
the list of Garrick Club members, and then Thackeray
made it up with Dickens on the stairs of the
Athaeneum Club a few days before he died. This is
the gossip of long ago, yet it seems but yesterday
that I met Yates and found him one of the most
interesting personalities, actor, journalist, and friend.
He appeared exceedingly free, open and unre-
served with everybody; yet he retained enough
self-restraint to preserve the respect of his friends
who never witnessed weakness of character or aught
that could sink him in their esteem.
Clement Scott I knew and Hked; he taught me
to give up where to pursue would mean absolute
failure. Influenced by him I tried during these
intervening years to dissuade dozens of men and
women from going upon the stage because I saw
no chance of their succeeding. Sometimes I made
mistakes, and I can point to several — and they point
to me! — who have succeeded by acting and singing
contrary to my advice ; but I cannot ever remember
being thanked for saving many more from disappoint-
ment or worse. The consequences are dire, when,
too late to retrace their steps, actresses are led
through vanity and incompetency farther and deeper
than they can foresee. Temperament and beauty
are wild things let loose, and a failure behind the
footHghts is more than it seems.
174 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
How little indeed is known of the intoxication of
the stage, still less of the brave hearts that adorn it ;
and nothing at all of their struggles upon a mere
pittance, quite insufficient to clothe, food and house
them. Go to the large-hearted successful actresses,
and ask them to unravel the mystery and troubles that
surround the alluring lights and shadows of stage
life. They will tell you that I am right, if redundant
in expression, and perhaps point to a useful help
centre known as the Rehearsal Club in Leicester
Square, where the humblest actresses can enjoy the
independence of club membership on a merely
nominal subscription ; where they can get their own
food cooked for them and rest between matinees,
rehearsals and evening performances, and chatter all
in the quiet of their own company, away from the
allurement or the torments of men.
They will also give warning how difficult it is to
retire from the stage bondage to which it is so
tempting to return. Perhaps they will say that those
are the happiest who die in harness, full of years,
because they live out of themselves in their calling
and keep up illusion in forgetfulness. They may
say that the theatrical profession often numbers
recruits of a retiring, bashful nature, who mean to
remain on the defensive, but rub shoulders with
others, many of whom are riding for a fall. Read
in the Era the long weekly list of actresses that
are " resting." " Resting " is the strangely eloquent
word that may mean anything, perhaps merely
worrying about to-morrow's dinner. It is used in
advertisement as a brave reminder that the actress
is out of work.
I intensely disUke reading plays, but at four
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 175
theatres I had to dissect plays and give a written
report upon their suitabihty or otherwise for produc-
tion. The tiring and tiresome analysis had to be
given in full in those days ; it is not so elaborate to-
day to explain to the author if and why his work was
not acceptable. The play, over which a writer had
perhaps spent a couple of years, stood to be accepted
or not upon the slender claims of my untutored
judgment ; my anxiety was sincere, but anyway only
one play in a hundred is ever produced. An author
runs the chance of making many thousands of
pounds, but the chance is all against the production
of his play.
An authority states that in America nearly twelve
thousand plays are rejected annually. Yes, play-
reading is very anxious work; one may condemn a
good play because it is not suitable to the principal
actor or accept a bad play because it has one fine
part. Experienced actors readily admit that they
themselves are naturally prejudiced judges ; one
such in my mind has been notoriously fortunate in
his selections all his life, but he frankly admitted to
me that the taste of the play-going public was most
difficult to gauge; more difficult still to influence or
lead in any new direction of thought or style of
production.
Even in musical comedies there is grave risk in
the changing of style. Mrs George Edwardes asked
me to come with her on the first night of change in
the venue at Daly's, reminiscent of Augustin Daly,
when the old favourites were replaced by artistes little
known, and a new form of musical comedy was to
take the place of burlesque, where the star system had
practically ruled. It was a question that night how
176 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
far the regular habitues would accept the new condi-
tions ; then I learnt how unerring was the judgment
of George Edwardes. The public followed him in
perfect confidence. He knew his public.
Most people know that each theatre of standing
has, or had, its own clientele ; a good judge could
in olden days tell you what theatre he was in by the
audience, but this was many years ago. There are too
many theatres and tube stations to-day. Who does
not remember the German Reed public? you would
know them anywhere, quite content so long as they
had their Corney Grain, alas! never yet replaced,
though George Grossmith and Tom Clare have been
the best successes in their day and way.
Most of us remember the old-fashioned Adelphi
audience too, which looked for thrills and insisted
upon getting them. This audience went over to
Lewis Waller when Terriss died. Then, as now,
the stars had their followers irrespective of the plays,
but the multiplicity of stars divides the light more
equally, and the barriers are now almost removed
which separated the music halls from the theatres,
when the halls piped the tune, and so-called
comedians bombinated in a vacuum.
D'Oyley Carte's stock company was the most suc-
cessful musical combination of modern times; and
Mr Benson's and Sarah Thome's the best schools for
drama and comedy. It is a delightful memory to be
able to dwell upon long years of acquaintanceship
and sometimes intimate friendship enjoyed in the
companionship of record makers and breakers whom
merely to name would fill many pages. How I wish
we could meet again at those wonderful dress re-
hearsals at the Savoy, to take one theatre, filled as it
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 177
always was with mutual friends who sat up half
the night to hear Gilbert (the hero of more inverted
commas than Shakespeare) make his usual pretty
speech at the end of the rehearsals: " Principals,
Director, Orchestra, Managers, and Chorus, if the
play succeeds, the credit is yours, if it fails the
fault is ours," and in these few words he wiped away
all the little severities and asperities that are insepar-
able from the trials of a long rehearsal. Ah well!
if things are not what they used to be, at least it
is consoling that they never were.
When I left Tree and Wyndham there were about
two hundred plays yet unread, but long before I left
I was supplanted at my own request by able readers.
Quahties that a reader required were scholarly
training, business-like knowledge and temperament.
The reader, Hke the stage manager, must be born,
not made. I was neither. I will give the reader
the legacy of a few scraps of information I picked up
in those years.
Generally a play is written on commission, some-
thing is paid down and forfeited if the play is not
subsequently produced within a given time, then a
royalty is paid upon gross receipts fixed according
to the position of the author.
Statements are made in the papers with apparent
authority regarding royalties. According to one of
them " Chanticleer " showed returns (that is, takings)
averaging £66^ a performance, and Rostand drew
twelve per cent of this, /500 a week. In another
recent case it was stated in court that certain royal-
ties rose to twenty per cent. I quote these cases
without comment. I have never known of any
royalties approaching these rates, nor artistes' salaries
M
178 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
approaching what is advertised. Sweet are the uses
of advertisement!
Sharing terms are fixed with the provincial
managers in the provinces according to the status
of the actor manager and his company. Much of
this in the very nature of things must be labelled
confidential, and would be unfair to reveal. As
regards the manuscript of a play the usual method
is to agree upon the exact text between the actor
manager and the author, before the agreement is
signed, after that not a word must be altered without
the author's consent, though I have known suc-
cessful authors who are indebted to actors for
embellishing their plays. But the author generally
controls his writing, and although the actor can make
or mar to a great extent, he cannot really make a bad
play, nor easily mar a good one. " Hamlet " has
never been a complete failure with any actor (I have
seen).
Great poets and fiction writers may be ignorant
of theatrical technique, as was Tennyson, who had
to learn that there were many dramatic tricks of
mechanism, colour, and movement which made for
the success of a play, quite outside its literary merits.
Of course, men like Pinero and Stephen Phillips,
who have been actors, can use their experience with
greater effect, but every writer of plays who knows
little of the stage is well advised if he enlists in his
service some expert in dramatic ways and effects ; and
lucky is he who knows this and surrenders prejudice
and vanity for a time. It is very interesting to be
at the author's reading of his accepted play, and to
hear him read it to. the company selected to act in it.
There you see a great deal of character.
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 179
The play being usually written round the actor-
manager, he knows all about it ; but the company do
not know their luck till the reading is over. No one
dares to speak or express appreciation or otherwise.
It is a forced atmosphere and each is keenly listening
for his particular part. Once I heard Waller read
a play so magnificently that we all became hysterical.
The next day when we had time to recover our
normal condition we all agreed that the play was dull
and boring, and it was rejected. This reminds me of
Ellen Terry, who, before reciting a poem by an old
friend. Sir Alfred Lyall, commenced by describing
the plot of the story with such tender passion and
natural pathos that the poem itself sounded flat and
artificial, scotched by her personality emitted in the
description.
When the rehearsals are finished and the play is
produced, then and not till then is the easy time for
an acting manager. It is like what was said by a
famous war minister when hostilities had really
commenced, " Thank goodness, now I can take a
holiday." A play, like a war, should be all thought
out and pre-arranged, and the cleverest organiser is
he who sits in his chair and orders operations.
The cost of producing a play ranges between five
hundred pounds and ten thousand pounds, so there
is much money risked in the choice. I know of
eighty thousand being lost on one play, and of course
some successes have produced as much profit, No
reminiscences are complete without a line about
handsome, breezy Terriss, so splendidly described in
Ellen Terry's memoirs.
One day he took me to a London Hotel, I think
he owned it. He took out a bundle of letters
180 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
accompanied by photographs of himself, which
languishing ladies had sent him to sign. " Here,
Mary," said Terriss to the barmaid, sorting them in
ten different little bundles, " sign these ' Yours
sincerely,' these ' Yours faithfully,' these ' Thine
aye,' these ' Your sincere friend,' " and so on. Then
she copied his writing and signature on them all,
wrote an occasional verse from a selected stock,
directed the envelopes, and posted them.
Since Terriss's day the hero young in years has
become obsolete, or rather he becomes young only
by becoming old ; shedding the outer skin of egotism
and mannerism at thirty-five, he enters the finishing
school at forty-five ; and at fifty-five begins to be
qualified to act the hero. Terriss had the grit at
twenty-five.
Actors and actresses live long, yet they are con-
stantly taxing their bodies, intelligence, will-power
and memory. Strenuousness appears to be the
guarantee of longevity. Hermann Vezin is a case
in point, but this, his last letter, is a warning, and as
such I include it:
" Dear Luther Munday, — I had a bad accident
on the 2nd inst., and don't know when I shall have
recovered all my mental faculties. My recovery is
very slow. I am having a week down here but the
bleak winds are doing their best to keep me back. I
return to town next Tuesday and hope I may be brain
strong enough to take up my ordinary work.
" What I understand you to suggest will I fear be
beyond me for some time to come. The curse of
superstition that taints and blights the stage has
marked me. A thoughtless remark that I was a
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 181
Jonah, made by somebody, has spread Hke a cancer,
and though utterly untrue, no manager has the
courage to face it. " Yours,
" Hermann Vezin."
And so an actor second only to Phelps in his Hne
died poor with all his qualities; a victim to the
blasphemy of superstition.
Genevieve Ward was a great actress and a true
friend. She was also Countess de Guerbel de
Nicolaciff, but the Count deserted her and tried to
nullify the marriage upon technical grounds. The
Czar upon hearing the truth summoned the Count
to Warsaw and also the injured lady. The marriage
was solemnised again before the Czar, then the
Countess bowed to her husband and they parted
never to meet again.
Christine Neillson I met at Scott-Gatty's ; his
brother-in-law, Major Ewing, of whom I wrote
earlier, accompanied her. She blazed with jewels
and beauty and seemed to me the feminine incarna-
tion of art and nature.
Toole, whom I knew for years, I met during the
last year of his life at Brighton, and then walked with
him and talked to him. He was then very decrepit
but his mind remained clear. The genial Toole and
the proud, shy Irving! To see the serious Irving
was Toole's relaxation, to laugh at the humorous
Toole was Irving's rest. The contrast, the friend-
ship, like that of David and Jonathan of Damon
and Pythias of Hamlet and Horatio, passing the love
of women. So much has been written about Sir
Henry Irving that I can hardly find anything
unpublished to add. In the nature of things I met
182 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
him frequently on the Committee at the Lyric, and
oftener still at the Garrick Club. He acted twenty-
seven plays with his great partner, Ellen Terry, whom
I met quite recently when I travelled with her and
her husband to their place in Kent. She remains
embodied sunshine now as many years ago; such a
spirit as hers is not merely lent to the world for the
span of one mortal life.
In this chronicle of friendships I am proud of more
years than I dare state of unchanging interchange.
A perfect feast of mind is recalled by the Ranee
of Sarawak and her three sons. Her Highness is
a writer and a musician of great distinction, with a
taste for many arts and crafts. She greatly loves
dumb animals, and is a practical supporter of the
Animals Hospital. She also founded and conducted
for many years the Greyfriars Amateur Orchestra.
To her talent as conductor and executant many
charities are constantly indebted. I am proud, too,
of having sung solos at many of her concerts. The
eldest son, Vyner Brooke, the Raja Muda, is heir-
apparent to the throne of the kingdom of Sarawak,
whose Rajah, recognised at the Court of St James, is
an independent ruler of a region of 52,000 square
miles, with half a million population of head-hunters,
Malays, Siamese, Hindus, and Chinese. Vyner and
his charming bride, nee Sylvia Brett, will one day
wield despotic power over the most romantic kingdom
in the world. His brother, Harry Brooke, started the
first threepenny paper, and gave me a commission
to draw portraits, and also initiated the lectures and
classes upon Shakespeare in English villages. The
third brother, Bertram, married Walter Palmer's only
daughter.
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 183
To revert to the censorship, there is something
incomprehensible about the changes that occur in
the mind of those responsible. " CEdipus," banned
for years, now receives a licence ; " Salome " may be
danced on the stage, but Oscar Wilde's play may
not be performed. Marital infidelity may be treated
as a farce, or as the theme of a comic opera, but the
powerful moral of Ibsen's " Ghosts " must not be
preached from the pulpit of the stage. The passion
of the " Ring of the Niebelungs," and other operas
may be set to music, but Maeterlinck's " Monna
Vanna " is not for London audiences. The office
has been responsible for some strange anomalies.
Some years ago " The Mikado," after playing for
many years, was banned temporarily for fear it would
give offence to the Japanese. Neither Pigott,
Bendall, Redford, or Brookfield are to blame, but the
whole system is unworkable. Sheltered behind an
ancient act — unassailable — modernity has tried and
is trying autocracy with surprises yet in store. The
Cabinet is allowed to rule, without appeal to the will
of the people or the peers ; the exercise of unrepealed
acts that have outlived their use continues; the
fashionable game of palmistry, which would render
its players liable to death or banishment under an
act of 1530, is unrepealed as far as I can ascertain.
My wife, who was taught it well by Mrs St Hill,
took alarm when I told her this — and I hope it will
end its obvious subtlety and transparent craftiness.
Charity is really the greatest offender in encouraging
such rot in order to get money.
Of J. M. Barrie's exquisite sense of infinite oddity,
tenderness and quaintness I can add nothing to what
is almost universally admitted. He and Shaw seem
184 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
in their different ways to possess intellectual search-
lights, capable of discerning the very bone of human
nature. Strings of epigram, wit, and wisdom flow
from their pens, whilst mine is but a mere recorder.
The covers of my book, a friend tells me, are far too
wide apart already, but before proceeding to our next
chapter of friendship, jape and quip, let me record
some letters : one from William Ewart Gladstone on
the subject of the real presence, a valuable opinion
which is produced in facsimile opposite ; another
received from Field Marshall Norman offering, at
the suggestion of his brother, to take me as his private
secretary in the event of his accepting the post of
Viceroy of India, which Mr Gladstone had offered
him, but circumstances had forced him to decline ;
also several interesting letters from Lord Roberts,
with his permission to reproduce them. These are
reserved for my second book of chronicles.
,.i.rt.„...
;■•'/
1 .
-aK.!..
\
Z3 w
^
BRIEF CHRONICLES OF
Sth Duke of Beaufort, K.G. Edward Fairfield (Sketch), C.B.
Will Terriss. Sir John Millais, Bart.
Sir H. M. Stanley, G.C.B. Gladstone.
Maurice Maeterlinck.
CHAPTER XII
Actresses and the Peerage — ^Woman's Genius not recognised in
Honour's Lists — Love and Convention — Marriage — ^The
Woman Movement.
The wedding or welding of blood with talent has
produced of old the fairy-child called " Charm," and
the indefinable quality called genius. Much of the
world has been built by the union of suffering and
love, and much has been dragged down by the chil-
dren of luxury and passion ; but charm and genius do
not often reproduce themselves. Of the claim, made
by a socialist, to descent from " the old kings of Ire-
land," one of the Pursuivants of the College of
Heralds said : " It is so far from being unusual to be
descended from a king that it would be rather the
exception to find anyone who was not." The average
Englishman has strains of royal blood in his veins
from three or four sources, while the pedigrees of
large numbers of living commoners show the descent
from royalty in clear detail. The children of younger
branches of the royal house marry into the peerage,
the children of such marriages enter county families,
and so the royal descent is passed down from one
class to another. Clubs indirectly have brought
about many marriages of recent years. Burke has
been largely replenished through club influence.
New life has been breathed into the House of Lords
185
186 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
fresh blood injected into the veins of our old nobility,
and a plentiful supply of healthy, handsome mothers
been provided for our future aristocracy from modern
clubs as from the stage. Though taken entirely
from published sources, this is not a complete list
of those actresses and singers who bear titles. In a
previous chapter I have explained that more than
six hundred debutantes, established actresses and
singers, were the protegees of the Lyric and Green
Park Clubs ; though many of them, guided by a
sense of the fitness of things, or from a passionate
love of their professions, declined proposals from
socially brilliant suitors, there were many others who
accepted marriage.
"... You see sweet maid we marry
A gentler scion to the wildest stock;
And make conceive a bark of baser kind
By bud of nobler race; this is an art
Which does mend nature ; change it rather :
The art itself is nature."
Shakespeare.
Here, then, are some of the aforesaid " buds of
nobler race " and the barks upon which they are
grafted : —
3rd Duke of Bolton . . married Miss Lavinia Fenton
2nd Duke of Cambridge ,, Miss Farebrother
9th Duke of St Albans ,, Miss Harriet Mellon
4th Marquis of Ailesbury ,, Miss Dolly Tester
5th Earl of Clancarty . ,, Miss Belle Bilton
1st Earl of Craven . . ,, Miss Louisa Brunton
I2th Earl of Derby . . ,, Miss Eliza Farren
5th Earl of Essex . . ,, Miss Kitty Stephens
Son of the Earl of Favers-
ham ,. Miss Leamar
The Earl of Clonmel . „ Miss Stella Berridge
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 187
Lord Huntingdon . . married
4th Earl of Harrington ,,
Earl of Orkney ... „
3rd Earl of Peterborough ,,
3rd Baron Gardner . . „
2nd Baron Thurlow . . ,,
4th Marquis of Headfort „
The Hon. F. A. Wellesley „
Mr Speaker Lowther's
eldest son .... ,,
The Hon. Francis Weet-
man Pearson ... ,,
7th Earl Poulett ...
Lord Sholto Douglas . ,,
Lord Archibald Campbell ,,
The Hon. Frederick Cur-
zon
Sir Hugo de Bathe .
The Marquis de Caux and
Baron Cederstrom .
The Marquess Capranica
del Guillo ....
The grandson of the Earl
of Cavan ....
The grandson of the 6th
Duke of Richmond
25th Baron de Clifford
3rd Baron Haldon .
Viscount Torrington
Sir Henry Meux
The brother and heir to
the Duke of Newcastle
The Count de Miranda .
Lord Churston .
Count de Guerbel
The Hon. Horsley-Beres-
ford ....
Count Gigliacci .
Miss Delia Sinclair
Miss Maria Foote
Miss Con. Gilchrist
Miss Anatasia Robin-
son
Miss Julia Fortescue
Miss Mary Bolton
Miss Rosie Boote
Miss Kate Vaughan
Miss Pelly
Miss Ethel Lewis
Miss Sylvia Storey
Miss Loretta Mooney
Miss Callender
Miss Ellis Jeffreys
Mrs Langtry
Madame Adelina Patti
Madame Adelaide Ris-
tori
Miss Enid S. Brunton
Miss Marie Tempest
Miss Eva Carrington
Madame Niska
Miss Eleanor Souray
Miss Valerie Reece
Miss May Yohe
Madame Christine
Neillson
Miss Denis Orme
Miss Genevieve Ward
Miss Kitty Gordon
Miss Clara Novello
188 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
The Hon. Maurice Brett married Miss Zena Dare
The heir to Lord Aber-
dare ... . . ,, Miss Camille Qifford
Of males noble in line, three peers, three
baronets, and twenty-five knights are, or have been,
professional entertainers. But Germany takes the
lead. There are some fifty German noblemen now
appearing as actors, and six members of reigning
families have chosen their wives from behind the
footlights. Any social disadvantage the stage once
suffered is disappearing rapidly all the world over.
Social equality is making itself felt as rapidly. There
are four duchesses and six countesses included in
the list of America's beautiful and wealthy daughters,
and a great many more American ladies now bearing
English titles.
Comment or criticism brings it to this, that
honours and titles given for art or science in which
both sexes excel fall exclusively to man. The most
distinguished woman, be she paintress, poetess,
sculptress, writer, organiser, composer, songstress,
or actress, can get no recognition in title or degree
from her country. As in France, where the Institute
comprising the five learned bodies, of which the
Academic Fran^aise is the most famous, rejects
women, so in England the principle of admitting
women is rejected. A Madame Curie or a Miss
Ethel Smythe may not bear the title which is due to
her genius, though, if she were a man with talent, a
knighthood or some distinctive degree would have
been within easy reach. Woman can win the reflected
advantage of a title if she marries, as witness the fifty
entertainers catalogued above ; but some such ladies,
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 189
who took to the altar the sceptre of genius, lost
with their names the identity which should have been
lastingly preserved to them in the archives of a high
order of national importance. It is not fair that a
pretty face or a great mind should be treated equally
and depend equally for distinction or extinction upon
reflected glory, or a man's infatuation. The nation
surely owes something more to the woman of genius.
A few years ago a letter of mine on this subject
received the distinction of prompt recognition. A
high order was established, and is rightly guarded ;
it opened its doors to women, and two or three were
invested with this real dignity, which qualifies them,
whether married or unmarried, to hold their own.
The need of a second degree of the order of merit
may become felt in time. And then the woman who
happens to be plain physically with a garden of a
mind will be recognised as an asset which England
will delight to honour with some worthy diploma.
Then will women be independent of the capricious
vicissitudes of love, and equipped to win that marriage
of the mind which alone survives illusion. Alwavs
the kind of freedom woman seeks is the worst slavery.
" How given for nought her priceless gift,
How spoil'd the bread and spilt the wine,
Which spent with due respective thrift,
Had made brutes men, and men divine."
Yet being loved is the feminine conception of Para-
dise ; and loving is the masculine attribute. A cynical
friend, who placed man's judgment of woman at a
low standard, said that it did not much matter who
a man married because the next morning he was sure
190 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
to find he had married somebody else. Possibly
the Teuton is, in matters of love, inartistic as com-
pared to the Latin race, or at least in the art of
stimulating passion without quenching it. Love,
they say, must be free as air; freedom dominates,
ties domineer, and that which domineers or holds
in chains soon perishes from a conventional sense
of duty, duty and habit being magic words which
sustain patriots, inflame warriors, inspire politicians,
but sometimes cool married people. By a merciful
Providence the worst temperament has not always
the worst influence, nor unfortunately does the sense
of duty exercise always the best influence.
One may cite Nell Gwynn and the Duchesse de
Mazarin among those who exercised great tempera-
mental influence in England, and for a time were
regarded as the chief friends and champions of the
people, even as certain notorious women of the
present day who radiate influence, if rather noisily, in
the interests of democracy. " Men," said Rousseau,
" will always be what women choose to make them."
Love belongs to and is part of life, and woman is the
counterpart of life and love. Her whisper may often
be louder than the call of duty, and yet she may
bring some echo of love's joy right through men's
lives to the end. Men are ever burning fires of
propitiation before some altar, and cultivating affec-
tion may be in plots, to make existence a garden
of many interests, whose plants are watered with
illusion. Woman seems happiest with her happiness
concealed. When she no longer needs to conceal
it, she generally ceases to be happy. Mystery plays
a large part in her nature ; her thoughts are often
written upon litmus paper, only readable after ex-
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 191
posure to certain influences. When these thoughts
become known their zest has departed, and the young
illusion makes way for the grey regret. One must
love with the head if one would make a warm rest
for the heart. Neither is marriage necessarily phihs-
tine or utilitarian in its narrowness. The great Pre-
Raphaelite wrote these words and suffered for them :
"No man and no woman should be inexorably tied
together for more than ten years' trial."
On the other hand, the aim of the classic school
in France was to insist upon the letter, as dis-
tinguished from the aim of the Romantics, who
insisted upon the spirit, in order to keep the senti-
mental and the voluptuous as far apart as the poles,
and to regard the abuse of intimacy as an act of
profanation. But soon the sentiment evolved the
passion. The Romantics intended woman to be an
exalted incarnation of the Divine, her affection to
be the supreme source of inspiration, but their
theories soon wavered between wantonness and
idealism. Western regularity grew from Eastern
irregularity, both being mere habits influenced by
geographical conditions, as witness the wise Biblical
Kings of whom it is written: —
" King David and King Solomon led such very naughty
lives,
They spent much time in toying with their morganatic
wives ;
But as old age came creeping on, they sufFered serious
qualms,
So Solomon wrote the Proverbs and David wrote the
Psalms."
What thousands of years passed by before woman
192 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
became surrounded with the romantic and poetic
respect called chivalry, making for moral and mental
development, and often saving her from shipwreck.
Western regularity is not entirely Western and
Eastern irregularity is not entirely Eastern; and
religious chivalry, dating from the Crusades, has not
yet influenced a very large part of the world which
lays claims in other respects to being civilised. It is
not always as wise as it is easy to be critical, or to
lay bare the failings which occasionally mar our most
treasured systems. Unfortunately, however, we are
too often forced to extend much toleration if we
would hold together or rather protect some most
treasured ideals, one such being marriage. We
English have just a little hypocrisy in our composi-
tion, or is it that we make the best of things and
do not talk about them, finding compensation our
own way? A friend of mine in Ceylon married a
daughter of the people (they are both long since
dead). She was beautiful when young, but use
brought home to her husband the full horror of her
vulgarity ; she was one of the brainless but virtuous
fools, and became as vituperative as a fish-hag.
When things were at their worst between them I
was generally asked to dinner, and was compelled to
talk to both of them, for then they never spoke to
each other. In my efforts for peace, I talked to my
friend one day of the inequalities of the law, obser-
ving that property was protected so much better than
the individual. " For instance," I said, " if I stole
a rabbit I should probably get fourteen days, whereas
if I stole your wife I should get no punishment."
" Yes," he rephed ; " you would get my wife."
Practical experience survives most of love's iUu-
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 193
sions. The man whom a woman adores as a saint,
she often treats as a tramp, while she mothers the
feeble man as she would a starving cat; for weak
men give her the impression that she herself is strong.
Of her devotion, of her faithfulness, there is, how-
ever, no end.
Perhaps love's most lasting expression is in
friendship. It is easy to find a lover and retain a
friend; not so easy to find a friend and retain a
lover. Women know this better than men ; they
esteem a man's friendship much more than a man
esteems theirs. She regards his as the highest mark
of his old affection; he regards hers as a legacy of
her indifference.
To conclude this chapter. The effect of the
woman's movement upon romantic love will be to
set back to the classic period of Greece and Rome,
when romance and chivalry in love were unknown,
however conjugal devotion succeeded. Marriage
was then for the building-up of the family, a process
of austere dignity quite against passionate emotion.
The French and the Japanese treat marriage to-day
as a thing apart from romantic love ; but neither
woman the sweetheart, nor woman the mother, was
more than tolerated by the Church which worshipped
woman symbolised by the Holy Virgin in mystic and
exalted religion rather than in any actual, earthly
relationship. In result, religion unexpectedly re-
inforced earthly love, and beautified it with chivalrous
feeling, which culminated in the custom of the knights
and the married lady doing reverential service in
vows of pure devotion till death, there being no
romantic love between husband and wife, nor did
the husband resent this either in Northern Italy or
N
194 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
Germany in the twelfth century, or more recently in
Spain. The quasi-religious warrant in the worship
of the Holy Mother was thus revived, and its motive
was to raise woman from being subordinate to her
husband, and to give equal freedom and indepen-
dence to man and woman ; but it was with thoughts
compatible with married life — as it existed. Then
came the ideal woman, a cross between " an angel
and an idiot," and then the woman who copied
the man, and various other changes evolving through
the ages ; but so long as there is a difference it
will be impossible to place one sex in the same
position as the other, as it would result in a
deformity of outline, and hamper life's activities.
As of old and in mediaeval times, so to-day man
lays his homage at one woman's feet and lords it
over his domestic drudge at home. This will all end
if woman becomes man's equal. Reverence on equal
terms is impossible.
We mortals think we change, but it is not ourselves
that change any more than it is the weathercock.
It is the wind blowing where it listeth that changes,
and this is all we can say of love ; it bloweth where
it listeth, it is not fixed by skill or vanity or intel-
lectuality, and certainly not by political forces — it
just comes and goes. To laugh at it would be but to
resemble the child who sings in the dark to ward
off fear. The unblemished gem of a good woman's
love makes remembrance sweet with tears. Devotion
has no purer shrine, sacrifice no happier abnegation,
and when at last comes the parting, it comes at the
perfection, and teaches us how to feel that greater
love which opens the door of higher thought to
close it for ever upon material form.
CHAPTER XIII
Sporting Friends — King of Siam as Leading Lady — Guthrie's
" Hamlet " Story— Stray Stories—" The Junior Turf Club "—
Shaw's Velvet Suit — Fashions in Dancing — Acclamation in
Church — The National Anthem — Barnum and the Duke of
Edinburgh — Sir Morell Mackenzie's Poem
There is little cohesive spirit in politics, less in art,
and none in literature, but in sport of every kind
the social atom revolves in his own orbit. This
applies even to the speculative spirit of the money
market, whose leaders are rapidly becoming supreme.
Amongst sporting acquaintances I count Lord
Charles Ker, who founded Sandown and the Whippet
Club; Lord Queensbury, who framed the Queens-
bury rules ; Sir Claude Champion de Crespigny, who
was our first visitor in a balloon, which descended
almost in my garden ; Selous, who told me of a near
squeak he had with a wounded lion — he stood per-
fectly still and shouted for the dogs to be let loose,
when the lion turned tail; and Lord Roberts our
greatest soldier. Long may he Hve.
To the Basil Thomson's North Lodge, Ascot, I
went to private theatricals. Struck with the beauty
of the leading lady, I asked Dean Liddell to introduce
me ; with great scorn the very reverend replied, " It
is not a girl at all, it is the future King of Siam."
He is now King : an autocrat, omniscient and omni-
196
196 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
potent, in his own country, and possessing an amazing
array of titles. In Siam kings always marry their
half-sisters. I told the story to Prince Alexander of
Teck, who represented King George at the King of
Siam's wedding about the time I am writing (191 1).
In my young days colonials were called " currency "
and native-born were called " sterling." I think
colonial office clerks were exempt from this odious
distinction. I allude to it as a custom long dead.
I remember dining with Mr Bayard, the American
Ambassador, and Mrs Bayard. He accepted my
little sketch of him. Time has proved his political
wisdom in more ways than one, though his courtesy
at the time was mistaken for weakness by his country-
men. He was extraordinarily handsome, and so was
Mrs Bayard. There was a mildness and decision in
his conversation and address which are seldom met
with in the same person.
I also met Mr W. G. Smalley, who held a fine
position in the newspaper world of London, and is
now, I believe, in New York. The intellectual often
despise genius ; these two intellectuals did not — they
spoke of greater men with delightful enthusiasm.
I dined as the guest of Macfarlane at Trinity
College dinner, sat next to Sir Robert Ball, who said
there had recently been discovered a planet so distant
from the earth that had a telegram been dispatched
to it at the time of the birth of our Lord, the news
would not have reached there yet. On my other
side sat a literary exquisite, who prided himself on
the classical correctness of his conversation and the
courtly perfection of his manner and grace of poise.
But I wished he had resided on that distant planet
as the sparkle of Irish conversation was so preferable.
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 197
It was a delightful evening spoiled by one jarring
note, the elderly called me Munday, and the youthful
called me " Sir." Alas! the shadow of life's post
meridian had commenced. This is always the first
sign!
I was at the Green Room Club when Tree was the
Club guest. I quote Terriss's speech in full : " Gentle-
men: our guest ... a d d good sort." Here I
met Guthrie, the author of " Vice Versa," who told
us that at a first performance of " Hamlet," an old
lady sitting next to him asked at the end of
the first act whether the gentleman in black would
appear again. He said " Yes," and she left the
house]
The following incident occurred long before
" Cyrano de Bergerac " was written. A friend of mine,
a sportsman, not a poet, a man but not a courtier,
wanted to wed a certain lady who was of romantic
and aesthetic temperament. When I found out how
things were I offered to try and write his love-
letters for him, and, by picking out little bits from
books, wrote warmly sentimental sentences, and then
half-scratched some of them out, feeling that this
might arouse the lady's interest, and quicken her
curiosity. They were married and lived very happily
after their nuptials. Years later she read me his
letter just received; it consisted of four lines about
pheasants and hares. " Ah ! " she said, " how different
were Charlie's letters before our marriage ! "
I paid a visit to the Dean and Mrs Liddell, both
since passed away. In charm of manner and social
converse he was very distinguished, and he set a
memorable mark upon his time. He was joint author
of the Greek lexicon, as everyone knows.
198 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
" A lexicon written by Liddell and Scott;
A part of it's good, and a part of it's not.
The part that is good was written by Scott,
By Liddell was written the part that is not."
Yet again: —
" She is the Broad and I am the High
And we are the University " —
His cousin Lady Eleanor Liddell's small luncheon
parties brought together congenial souls, and that is
one of life's high arts which this charming hostess
understood.
We gave little dinners ourselves, but so rarely, and
so obviously as an endeavour to pay back some social
debts, that Alec Yorke called them, " Our Annual
Meeting of Creditors."
The Lumley of his day, he of pleasant manners and
universal information, Kenneth Howard, who had
never left London for thirty years, used to entertain
me at the Bachelors. At the Bachelors are seen the
remnant of the beaux and dandies whose days are
over. A century ago the bow-window at White's was
occupied by a set of whom Beau Brummell was
the chief, and they invented customs which in limp
fashion still exist. A member has asked me to vacate
what he called his seat at a club window; but I
promptly declined to encourage such rot. Another
member was reminded that it was not customary to
recognise from a club window any passer-by, to which
he aptly replied that a Queen of England had forced
Count D'Orsay, who made the rule, lo break the rule,
by giving him the honour of recognition at his club
window from Her Majesty's carriage whilst passing
down St James' Street.
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 199
I cannot call to mind an Englishman who is the
least like the Georgian dandy. Sir Fitzroy Clayton,
Sir Henry Brownrigg, and Col. Streatfield are the
last I have met representing the best type of the
dandy, gentle and manly, of whom Thackeray writes.
I found it in Lady Dorothy Nevill's book, but
Kenneth Howard told me of the lady who asked a
Court official how much of herself she ought to show
at a Court ball, and was informed that it depended
upon the quality of what she had to show.
Henry Lord Ailesbury told me he once ordered
a cabman to drive him to the Courts of Justice ; the
cabman hesitated and then said, " Oh, the Law
Courts, I know them, but you said the Courts of
Justice." Like all stories, this and the following
could only have been original once. What a dreadful
world if jokes were only told once. A misanthrope,
whom I need not name, told his wife he had made his
will, and had left everything to her on condition that
she married again, " At any rate," he said, " one
man shall be sorry I am dead." Bram Stoker told me
this: a noble at the Court of Louis XIV. was ex-
tremely like the King, who sent for the noble and
asked him, " Was your mother ever at Court ? "
Bowing low, he replied, " No, sire, but my father
was."
To Sir John Kirk (of African fame) I am indebted
for the gift of an original letter which he received
from David Livingstone in 1865. Part of it runs
thus : " Put a pony on Cambridge." I quote this
because it makes the memory of Livingstone still
more lovable.
" Why so late at the Club .'' " I once asked a friend.
" Economy, my boy ; I catch the workman's train
200 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
home." Once he took the wrong side of his road
and began to knock at the house opposite his own.
A lady opening a window upstairs told him he was
knocking at the wrong door. " Not at all," he
replied ; " you are looking out of the wrong
window."
Cyril Maude said that in his early days, when
travelling with a stock company, he said to the
manager, " I have not had my part yet," who replied,
" Write it yourself, my boy, or perhaps you know
one like it." The manager subsequently became a
prompter, then finished up as a mute. Opening the
gates of the cemetery he wheezed out, " Beginners,
please, for the last act." Stories about people so
largely depend upon personality, and personality is
impossible to express in writing. Wilder, Upton,
Fred Chester, Toole, Brough, Grossmith, all of
these have had brought up against them specimens
of the weakest nonsense, which had lost both
strength and point by repetition and feeble telling;
becoming after many days quite unrecognisably
anaemic. If an actor loses his own identity, much of
the measure of his charm is gone, and so with others
who are part of a story ; they require their identity in
the telling. Wilson Barrett wheeled a barrow at a
shilling a day, saved up his money and bought
" Shakespeare." This I told to Arthur Cecil, whose
comment was : " Splendid fellow ; but what a pity he
bought ' Shakespeare.' "
George Giddens, the finest Squire Chivey and
Tony Lumpkin, now Lai Brough has gone, tells
of some actor of the Criterion who being told he
looked as old as Queen Anne, replied, " That's an
exaggeration, but I own to Wyndham and Mary."
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 201
I remember meeting at Lady Londesborough's
the brilliant Miss Margot Tennant, but the hostess
I remember best; whether her guests were famous
or obscure, whether they belonged to the great world
or had emerged from the masses, none could be long
in her company without feeling her charm of manner
and kindness of heart.
Sydney Holland tells the story of a doctor at the
London Hospital who put up this notice : " Doctor
XXX's lecture will be postponed in consequence of a
command he has received to attend at Sandringham,"
and underneath some wag had added, " God save the
King."
I asked T. P. O'Connor if there were as many
absent Irish landlords as ever. " Yes, Luther, they
swarm," he said. Poor dear T. P., how hard he
tries to detect a flaw in this most perfect of worlds.
With a heart full of peace and content which he
tries to overcome, he cannot successfully disguise
his joyous temperament. He bore bravely the sight
in a weekly paper of a portrait in chalk I drew of
him. In T. P's wonderful versatility of mind I see
a dozen different people, not one of them acquainted
with each other. Some readers will remember poor
little Genii Norreys and her sad retirement, who, like
the great Robson, had the soul of a tragedian con-
tained in a frail little body. I pay this passing tribute
to her greatness as an actress and her charm as a
woman. I went with her to a Christmas Tree Party
for poor children in Drury Lane Theatre. She asked
a child about six years old what she would like best.
" A box of make-up, please. Miss," she rephed ; which
reminds me that behind the scenes at the Alhambra I
once saw the tiniest little cycle-performing mite kneel
202 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
down, pray, and cross herself before commencing
her dangerous " turn."
How nice it would be to beguile time by writing
children's plays for bald-headed men who believe in
fairies, and problem plays to lighten the lives of weary
children ; yet when one reflects how many plays are
unread, how many actors are unemployed, how sad
is the sigh for suffering worth, lost in obscurity,
" gorse unprofitably gay." Tree and Haddon
Chambers were my guests at the cabman's shelter in
Piccadilly, known then as the Junior Turf Club, on
the opening night of Her Majesty's Theatre. This
was, for Tree, the day of his life. He reached a
height of stage tradition from which he has never
fallen, in its very best expression of difficulties
overcome.
We arrived at the shelter at three o'clock in the
morning, and drank coffee and played dominoes with
the men until six, when one of our cabbies got a call,
which broke up a delightful party. These were happy
days, in which I somehow failed to bore Tree ; no
fag, all enjoyment, at least for me.
One night I met Mascagni. The Guards' Band
was playing; Mascagni took up the baton and con-
ducted his famous overture, from which he sent me
an extract in manuscript. After this Arthur Roberts
conducted the orchestra with an effect it is impossible
to describe ; it was immense. On the first night of
some play I refused an orchestra stall to George
Bernard Shaw, because he came in a red tie and a
velvet suit, and I did not then know the real Shaw
any more than he knew himself. Also dear Clement
Scott and I had a row because I could not give him
a box to himself, but before he died he sent me a
^
il
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 203
written essay of his upon criticism and lived in that
rarefied atmosphere, the height of forgiveness. I am^
sure G. B. S. will have forgiven me too, if he
remembers the episode.
One more actress whom the immortals will claim,
but I want to record her first, is Ethel Irving ; with
her long course of unbroken successes, she has been
a delight, and shown a versatility that is phenomenal.
There are actresses as great in tragedy, comedy, or
burlesque, but perhaps not one who can play all
alike with such consummate ease. Her greatness,
too, expresses itself in joy at others' greatness. A
rare gift indeed, but rare too are Mrs Gilbert
Porteous.
In a general way, the stage makes women affect
petulant brusquerie, and a man's familiarity of ad-
dress ; and it often causes them to assume disdainful
airs, which may merely be the outcome of real
ignorance of the; world. Palpitating Hfe, youth, and
health may mean making a brave show merely to
conceal evidence of ceaseless struggles.
On the other hand, it was always easy to fill a
theatre to see a wanton sprung from the nobility. In
the eighteenth century there were scores of these, and
their rank was known to the police ; dishonour was
the passport to celebrity. Emma Hamilton and
" Perdita " Robinson (types of many) owed their
celebrity to the weakness of a hero and a prince.
Perhaps it is specially true that more women are
led from the path of virtue by display and luxury
than are corrupted by all the rakes in town, tempta-
tion being in both cases merely a process by which
the senses deceive the intellect; the display of hats
is as deceiving to a woman's intellect as the display
204 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
of feminine form in dancing is to a man's — both vices
have their fashions. I know nothing of hats, but I
remember the changing modes in dancing that have
taken the town since I was a boy. About the year 1875
the tall Gaiety Girl in tights was the vogue, then Kate
Vaughan created her own environment and made
London become suddenly classical in its appreciation
of cobwebs, and veils of dainty reticences. Then
followed Lottie Collins with her blast and blare of
Ta-ra-ra fame, with her high heels, black stockings,
and stormy lingerie. After that came a sensuous
wave of Spanish dancing ; its savagery, insolence, and
haughty beauty all too easily making slaves of men.
Adeline Genee next gave us a joy which was un-
tainted by passion, and Adeline's style charmed us
for years. Following her Maud Allan, and her
patrician imitators, introduced a style which James
Douglas aptly calls one of " faintly disguised mor-
bidity and subtle perversity." The sequel to this
was the form of dancing which revealed the hooligan
frenzies of the Danse des Apaches, while in 19 10 the
Russian dancers restored our taste for that which is
natural, clean, and pure. If sheer acclamation is the
test of appreciation, Lottie CoUins commanded most.
Until recent years I only knew of acclamation in its
theatrical sense and use, and was surprised to learn,
what probably all the world knows, viz. that applause
was an old custom in church.
About a hundred years ago O.P. had another
meaning than " off prompt " ; it meant " old prices,"
and the actors in all the theatres were shouted down
for twenty months. This form of acclamation caused
the O.P. riots. Mrs Siddons expected acclamation
from the audience to the extent of following her
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 206
hysterical follies ; whenever she shrieked or swooned
the audience was expected to follow her example.
In a chapel in London I have heard acclamation, or
the clapping of hands, used as a means of expressing
approval ; and I am told that in America the negro
congregations acclaim during the sermons, passing
into wails and wild maniacal laughing and yodelling.
I set to search the history of acclamation, and asked
the Dean of Westminster to help me. I received
the following interesting reply, showing that people
were accustomed to express their feehngs aloud in
church so far back as in the time of William the
Conqueror : —
" Dear Mr Munday, — The following is a part
of the Coronation Service, as used on the last occa-
sion:
Sec. III. is the ' Recognition.'
The King and Queen being in the Central
' Theatre,' the Archbishop of Canterbury, with other
high officials, goes to each of the sides of the Theatre,
the King turning himself by his chair accordingly,
while the Archbishop speaks thus to the people;
Sirs : I here present unto you King Edward, the
undoubted King of this realm ; wherefore all you
who are come this day to do your homage, are you
willing to do the same? The people signify their
willingness and joy by loud and repeated acclama-
tions, all with one voice crying out: God save King
Edward. Then the trumpets sound. This ceremony
of the Recognition goes back to the earliest times, and
in those ages must have had a very real significance
and importance, as the Royal claim rested on accep-
tance by the people. We know that it formed an
206 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
element at the Coronation of William the Conqueror
in the Abbey, for, as you will remember, the Norman
soldiers outside, hearing the shouting and not know-
ing what it was, but fearing the King was in danger,
began a massacre. The same ceremony took place
in the Primitive Church at the consecration of
Bishops, the assent and consent of the people always
being asked for, and given by acclamation. There
is another custom at Westminster for the boys of
Westminster School to shout ' Viveat Rex ' (or
Regina) at a certain point of the Coronation. I
fancy not as part of the Recognition, but at
the entry of the King into the choir. This
custom or privilege must go back to the beginnings
of the school. In the early church applause or the
reverse was very common during preaching, as we
judge from the sermon of Saint Chrysostom, the
people were accustomed so to express their feelings.
(Signed) " R. B. Rackham.
" Deanery, Westminster,
" i^th December, 1908."
When George IV. was King it was not uncommon
for actors to forfeit two shillings and sixpence if they
failed to acclaim and join, too, in the chorus of the
National Anthem. My old and valued friend,
General Sir Bindon Blood wrote me, in part, this
about the National Anthem : " Dear Luther, ' Grand
Dieu ! Sauvez le Roi ! ' was sung for a hundred years
at St Cyr as a National Anthem. It was composed
by Lulli, Master of the King's Music in 1721 (Louis
XV. was then King). Handel visited St Cyr and was
impressed with the tune, and annexed it as his own.
He got the words translated, and there you have the
L. M., BV HERM.WX HERKOMER.
L. M., BY MAX BEERBOHM.
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 207
story of ' God save the King,' a part still of our na-
tional life and pride, whose symbol is the flag. The
same tune was adopted by the Danes in 1 790, and by
the Germans in 1793, and it is also now used as the
National Hymn in the United States, where it goes
by the name of, ' My Country, 'tis of Thee.' "
When the Trees lived in Sloane Street, they often
invited me to their delightful supper-parties. One
night we had a competition in the five-lines style of
Edward Lear. The results were very droll, for we all
had to make a verse ; most of these tags were too
personal to print in these pages. We waited with
excitement for Sir William Gilbert's contribution,
which he produced as follows: —
" There was a young man of Tralee,
Who was horribly stung by a — wasp.
When they said, ' Does it buzz,' he replied,
'Yes it hurts,'
It's a horrible brute of a hornet."
This is reminiscent of a party at the Knole
in the seventeenth century, when all the guests agreed
to write an impromptu. Dryden was chosen to decide
which was the best, and he gave the prize to Lord
Dorset, who had written these two lines : " I promise
to pay Mr John Dryden or order ^500 on demand.
— Dorset." We varied our games with sketching.
Herbert Tree was no mean hand at caricature. One
night we drew a celebrated lawyer from memory,
Phil Burne-Jones, myself. Lord Rowton, and " Max,"
a great master of caricature.
What a book of reminiscences Lord Rowton (the
Monty Corry of other days) might have written.
What secrets died with him of the mournful heart
and wistful manner, of the haggard face and grizzly
208 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
beard. He, on whose arm Lord Beaconsfield used
to lean, who alone had read the mysterious Disraeli
memoirs, and who was the executor and friend of
Queen Victoria. We walked from Sloane Street and
parted on Hay Hill at 4.30 a.m. I never saw him
after that. His sight failed, and letters I have
from him are typewritten, and only bear his
signature.
On 5th May, 1892, I dined with the Duke of
Edinburgh. Captain Bainbridge (his equerry). Sir
Arthur Sullivan, and Wentworth Cole were the others
present. After dinner I presented Barnum, the most
famous impresario of his day, perhaps of the century,
to the Duke, who playfully asked Barnum how much
he would offer him to go to America. Barnum paused
and solemnly repHed, " I would give you a very big
fee, your Royal Highness, but I would give your
mother double."
The Duke promised Sir Arthur he would play a
violin solo at my Annual Amateur Concert at the
Lyric Club. It was to be one of H.R.H.'s own
composition called, I think, "Atalanta," which he
once played at the Albert Hall, but it did not come
off. The Duke wrote in my book instead. For many
years Mrs Ronalds gave me an open welcome, and
showed kindly sympathy in all my ventures. The
Duke of Edinburgh was often at her Sunday after-
noons ; he had an air of listlessness, and was wont to
criticise when he was bored, even during a song, and
to proclaim, not always in a whisper, that he preferred
this or that singer. His Royal Highness's opinion
upon music was, however, held in high esteem. His
was the impulsive temperament which quickly sees
the whole truth, and, feehng it crowding for utter-
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 209
ance, hates argument. In other words H.R.H. was
a sailor.
Sir George Power and I gave a " send-off " to the
beautiful and accomplished Sybil Saunderson pre-
vious to her making her first appearance at Covent
Garden. I went round to her dressing-room to say
nice things about her singing. " Come in," I heard,
so I opened the door. The lady was wrapped in
thought, but had not proceeded much further with
her toilet. I beat a retreat, which deserved it, and
she subsequently informed me that it was her parrot
that dispensed hospitality by calling out : " Come
in." I bet her five pounds that she would be mar-
ried by a certain dale. I won. She had a marvellous
range of voice and was a great beauty. Poor Sybil !
she passed away comparatively young, much beloved
and respected.
" Is there a baser crime in hell
Than first to kiss and then to tell ?
Yes — there's a greater one, more fell
'Tis not to kiss and yet to tell."
In those days I saw much of Charlie Jerningham
and his intimate, Labouchere, who resembled one
another in that they were men of the world in the best
sense, arch enemies of all shams, including them-
selves — for never posed two warmer hearts in cynic's
clothing than Charlie and Labby, and you may add
one more CharHe, recently prominent, to the hst —
all loved by those who knew them and cordially dis-
liked by those whom they didn't want to know,
There are swarms of imitators about — who lack the
warm heart — for it is a fashionable part to play, but
wants more than a poseur to carry it through in its
noble ideality.
Q
210 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
Labby and Dilke were both " excluded " from the
Ministry. Both would have been useful in staying
the flood of Socialism, which Gladstone, a widely
different man, alone succeeded in doing. I told
Henry Labouchere if I were King I would make him
Lord Taunton for the good of the Conservative cause.
I don't think Truth kept him out of the Cabinet.
There were interesting men about in those days,
but Labby, Jerningham, Yates, A. Haggard, and a
few others were difficult to beat in their particular
line. They were free lances with scholarly learning
behind them, with which they used to squash those
lesser equipped, for in those days it was difficult to
lead a great party or a conversation without bringing
in quotations from " The Classics." There have been,
and are, great leaders of later days in all parties
lacking university education to back them, and that
may be the cause or the effect of the utter disappear-
ance of learned oratory in the House of Commons,
where they would yell and jeer to-day at any quota-
tions of any sort.
The familiar conversation I had with Labby
was when we compared notes about our travelling
circus experiences in France and Mexico. We met
and talked over a very plain meal, for no man cared
less for eating and drinking and more for cigarettes
and cynicism than Labouchere. He earned his salt
by taking charge of the box office. I only lounged
about learning the language, but we both agreed it
was educational and provided an excellent answer
to the dead season, large-type inquiry, " What to do
with our sons ? " Ranch life in Mexico and political
life in Old Palace Yard found him and left him one
of the best.
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 211
I suggested to Andrew Haggard that he should
write a play about Bayard, thinking that so great a
writer on French romance would revel in the task.
Within ten days he sent the synopsis and with it
these lines: —
" Dear Luther, —
" Tough will be the task, rough will be the way,
None has he to ask, how to write this play.
Not a ' star ' to guide, no compass like ' Beaucaire '
O'er the waves to ride, breakers every where!
But the lamp and ring of Lutherius Munday
Rightly rubbed may bring him to port safe some day.
Urging good ash paddle men call self reliance,
Scouring brains that addle ; bidding doubt defiance,
Dipping strong but lightly, honest in endeavour.
Sprays may sparkle brightly, e'en in stormy weather.
Thus not sad but gaily, o'er the darksome wave,
Striving hard and daily, shall career thy slave.
If by storm-cloud driven, he should win the goal.
Knowledge he hath striven must content his soul;
For one miss there's mending! He shall struggle
well.
Steadfast till his ending, noble Bayard fell 1 "
" Yours ever,
" Andrew Haggard."
Andrew wrote novels before his brother Rider,
whom he advised to write. He also saw much
service in Egypt. Lord Kitchener, Sirdar Win-
gate, and Andrew Haggard were all members of Sir
Evelyn Wood's staff. Lord Kitchener was with the
only cavalry regiment and Andrew commanded the
First Battalion of the Egyptian Army. His novels,
" Crescent Star," " Dodo and I," and " Love Rules
the Camp " all have Egyptian backgrounds.
212 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
THE LAUGH
(Dedicated to Luther)
" The honest laugh, full visaged, ripe and long.
Untrammelled flight of heart and mind at ease,
Fearless and lithe-limbed wrestler with disease;
The bitter laugh, shrill echo of a wrong.
That hides awhile its scourge of knotted thong;
The brave man's laugh, a challenge unto fate.
Resourceful, mettlesome, self-callous, great of heart;
Unlike the false laugh, anxious, loud, a song
Untuned, a tiger's purr, a bloody snare;
The lover's laugh, a lute of sweet accords,
One soul unto another's gaze laid bare;
The child's first laugh, the twitter of wakening birds,
A rainbow bubble, floating in sunny air,
A miracle beyond the power of words.
" A. E. Jessup,
"May 24th, 1909."
I have alluded to A. E. Jessup in these pages.
He is a veritable admirable Crichton, a ripe scholar,
learned in mathematics and astronomy, and can
come off his perch and frivol, too, with the lightest
touch. He asked me seriously to solve this problem :
given the number of a policeman and the length of
his beat, to find his area. He is the only man I ever
met who refused a fine bona fide offer for his first
play. He says he writes for recreation, and that
when he satisfies himself, and not till then, shall his
work be staged.
One, of whose atrophied mind all that remained
was vanity, said to May Yohe : " There was one
song in Edward Solomon's opera which quite
carried me away." " I wish I could sing it," she
said. Teddy Solomon, who was one of the party, is
still remembered as a genius, who could and did
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 213
literally composed operas while you waited. Half a
dozen of his later works were successfully produced.
Teddy Solomon at that time threatened to rival
SulHvan as a composer, but he thought too much of
other things. He was five times married ; not like
his namesake, but properly married. One of his
wives was the beautiful Lilian Russell, who later
married another pal of mine. Once Teddy im-
provised a whole opera and he got jC200 on the
spot, but he never wrote it down, so when Henry
Sutton wished to hear it, Teddy had forgotten it
entirely, and his new improvisation before a board
of directors in the early morn was quite another
affair, and so, as General Hale Wortham and Henry
Sutton told me, the Alhambra lost the ;^200.
Ah, well! let these memories run on. I know
the laughing hours, the quips and jokes are difficult
to reproduce without the sound of voices that have
long been still. Nothing but the echo remains of
incidents too shadowy to schedule, but too real to
forget.
Sir Morell Mackenzie of Emperor Frederick
fame sent me this satire to adorn my book. He said
it was his only poetic composition ! He was a down-
right good friend to countless artists and to me.
Of all the boys that are so smart,
There's none like Luther Munday,
The darling of each lyric heart
On week days and on Sunday.
So deft he plays the double part,
Beau Nash and Mistress Grundy,
The darling of each Lyric heart
Is clever Luther Munday.
214 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
II
" Old Luther loved ' Wine, woman, song,'
Nor preached the worse on Sunday,
To that persuasion doth belong
Our jolly Luther Munday.
And though he is not orthodox,
He did not write ' Lex Mundi,'
A very clever paradox
Is happy Luther Munday.
Ill
" On ' Function ' days as grand he looks,
As Wolseley at Ulundi.
Flirts leave their mashers, ' Blues ' their books,
To talk to Luther Munday;
Of all the days within the week,
They dearly love but one day,
And that's the day that comes between
A Sunday and a Tuesday.
IV
" His beaming visage cures the spleen,
Cito, tuto, jucunde
For ' heart b'owed down ' there ne'er was seen,
A cure more sure than Munday.
And could I write a book like ' She '
Or Irving's ' Salmagundi,'
'Twere easy to fill volumes three
With praise of Luther Munday.
" MoRELL Mackenzie,
"31st March, 1892."
PHIL MAY.
CHAPTER XIV
The Green Park Club — Performing Fleas — City Churches — Club
Management — ^Five Hundred Concerts and Plays.
The Green Park Club was an old-fashioned little
thing, a poor copy, though in some respects re-
sembling her ancestor, Lyrica Sodalitas. On 28th
March, 1896, Punch gave her two mottoes: " Vir
non semper viret," or " Virtus semper viridis," and
both of these she fulfilled. Her first sponsor was
Florence, Lady Westbury, her second was Lady
Edward Spencer Churchill, and her third was
Constance, Countess of Romney. Good fortune
attended the twelve years of her existence in single
blessedness, and she wedded or merged her name
with another club in her thirteenth year. This was
in 1907. Her excellent character she owed to the
bringing up of her sponsors, and each in turn left
her the dowry of a fine example. My little G.P.C.
was brought up with the full knowledge that she
would have to make profit enough to support me for
the rest of my life. She relied upon her patrician
relations and friends to give her at least some way-
side help. Then, lo and behold! four royal fairy
godmothers bestowed upon her their patronage and
unchanging goodwill, and henceforth every effort
was made on her part to show due appreciation. On
the morning of her first birthday, G.P.C. received
21^
216 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
the distinction of a large picture of Queen Victoria,
signed and presented by Her Majesty. Other
evidences treasured, but not for print, from those
royal ladies, lasted from its start up to the days
when it merged its existence with another club!
If I could have foreseen all the genuine support
so ungrudgingly accorded by the Presidents, com-
mittee, and members, I think I should have paid
greater attention to detailed suggestions emanating
in a kindly spirit from certain quarters; but I had
been slightly chilled through years of constant efforts
which had left me none the richer. Socially, as the
lists easily verify, the members were the most dis-
tinguished ladies that ever met together as club
members. Club-life was made agreeable by the
pursuit of art for the love of it. We were amateurs
in the strict sense ; but amateur is a very wide term.
Many call themselves amateur who are not. Strictly
speaking, an amateur is one who has never com-
peted with a professional for a prize, and who has
never taught, pursued, or assisted in the practice of
any particular art as a means of obtaining a liveli-
hood. At least that was how it was defined in my
day. But now many style themselves amateurs who
have taken pay in some form or another. Amateurs
are frequently unconscionably tiresome too. Melba
and Sims Reeves gave me far less trouble, and
were far less fussy, than some amateurs. There
have been great amateur artistes of all times:
Nero, the imperial singer; Ptolemy IV., play-
writer and flautist; and some living to-day can
hold their own in any company.
Art, like the fashionable game of skeleton puzzle,
has meanings shapeless and numerous, difficult to
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 217
put together. Art may be a mouthpiece for Shake-
speare or a Jew's harp. Some time ago performing
fleas were called artistic. I went to a party where
they were exhibited under magnifying glasses. The
guests saw the little fleas fight duels, drive cabs and
coaches, and do all sorts of things. A ponderous
German was exhibiting these precious little insects,
which he adored, when all of a sudden he espied
" an exile from home " hopping about upon the
capacious person of a magnificent dowager. The
German snapped at the flea several times, finally
captured it, and slowly examined it. He then
returned it from whence he had caught it, walked
backwards three paces, bowed very low, and said:
" Pardon me, my lady, I thought it was one of mein
artistes ! " The lady, true to her patrician dignity,
restrained from old Chaucerian English, but ex-
pressed her feelings with a smile surpassing speech
in its eloquence.
Art, then, may mean anything. The Green Park
Club achievements ran high. Personally, I had
never enjoyed any occupation so free from worry
and difficulty as organising a Ladies' Club, and its
mild revels acted as a tonic. That there are two
kinds of ladies in the world, I admit: the one who
loves to manage, and the other who loves to be
managed, and all one has to do is to find out which
is which. When in doubt, I assumed the attitude
and expression which Gilbert describes as " idiotically
sane with lucid intervals of lunacy," nodding approval
to every suggestion, and though this may not have
always been the wisest plan, it was certainly the
easiest. The Club continued to prosper with capable
secretaries, all of them friends and welcome visitors
218 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
to our cottage ; as also were Wilfred Bendall and Miss
May Christie, two artistes who between them accom-
panied at almost all my five hundred musical parties.
I say my musical parties, for where the support of
1 200 soloists was inspired and retained by personal
friendship, I may be forgiven for thus chronicling
these friendships with genuine gratitude, not unmixed
with pride and wholly free from conceit.
At one time or another in life we learn to know
the value of money by getting it, and of friendship
by losing it, and as the young roses climb the old
rock, which, in its turn, protects the roses, so the
Club was carefully trained to climb and prosper and
earn money under the shelter of experience — that
wanderer which sucks the sap from many sources,
till it " mourns for happiness by wearing fame." The
goal of happiness, for which I craved, was rest and
country life, and the day I reached my fortieth year
I got it. I sought the desolate freedom of the " wild
ass " in a village desert, where little artistic water
was, but where something far better and more last-
ing is.
" Art thou rich, yet is thy mind perplexed,
O punishment?
Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers,
O sweet content? "
Into these pages must appear the names of friends,
like king's daughters, all glorious within, who helped
me in club work and who still keep up the lustre of
pleasant memories. But let me first say a final word
about Ladies' Clubs generally.
Almack's was founded in 1675. The subscription
was ten guineas, which, I suppose, included a ball
and supper given once a week for twelve weeks, and
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 219
the company refined, but the picture does not seem
to make it so. Almack's Scotch face in a bag-wig,
waiting at supper, would divert you; as would also
Mrs Almack, in a sack, making tea, and curtsying
to the duchesses. Gentlemen members were ad-
mitted, but not gentlemen guests. " I can go to a
young supper," writes Mrs Fitzroy, the foundress,
" without forgetting how much sand is run out of the
hour-glass, so I chose to be idle, but not morose."
The ladies nominate and choose the gentlemen, and
vice versa, so that no lady can exclude a lady, and
no gentleman can exclude a gentleman. Lady's
Rochford, Harrington and Holderness were black-
balled, as was the Duchess of Bedford, who was
subsequently admitted. Lord March was black-
balled by the ladies, to their great astonishment.
All this in a tavern, if you please, but afterwards,
to satisfy the scruples of Lady Pembroke, in a
separate room, and they called it Almack's Club.
From what I can make of these meagre details, to
build one's fortune upon the ruin of others was the
recognised rule. This was about two hundred and
thirty years ago. It is very different in our time,
though the gambling craze once more revives (if it
ever died) in the game of bridge, when women are
growing increasingly extravagant in rivalry and dis-
play, when the luck of a night is sometimes the ruin
of a life. I have seen women speculators glory in the
pernicious fury of their triumphs, seen them stake
all, and give and take strangers' confidences, simply
because they could not help themselves. Stimu-
lated by increasing greed, indulgence, and ostenta-
tion, their love of gambling takes them on its wave.
It leaves them to stake even honour in the hope of a
220 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
gain which seldom comes, till at last, incited by an
atmosphere which lessens their instinct of resistance,
they call it bad luck if they are left in social exile.
But this was not at our Club. The presence of
royal members and the example of each and all our
Presidents set a clear and decisive policy, which was
to resist any form of gambling there. Let this not
read as if we were smuggily superior, for we were
not. It was only held, and rightly held, that what-
ever one might be in private life, in a community
which framed its rules for its own advantage, one
was expected to let one's light so shine before men
that they might see only our good works. We were
hardly installed at lo Grafton Street before we were
kindly given pews in Mr Ker Grey's chapel hard by.
The service was curiously unorthodox; sermons
were interlarded with songs and recitations. For
instance, Florence St John sang, " O rest in the
Lord," and sang it most beautifully, but when it
came to placing pictures of dead actresses on the
altar, our members took up a hostile attitude and
wrote to the Bishop. They complained to me, as
if it were my fault, so I wrote to my late friend,
the Rev. Prebendary Villiers, of St Paul's, Knight-
stone, about it, who repHed : " I should like very
much to come and see you one day, after Easter,
about it." He came and I saw Mr Ker Grey
about it.
The Revs. Shaw and Bennett were great at St
Paul's then. It is all over and forgotten now, and
only led to the investigation of what is called unortho-
doxy, which I found meant " everybody's doxy except
one's own."
The Bishop of London, Dr Creichton (whose son
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 221
has so often charmed us with his singing at the Club),
was far-sighted. He let many unorthodox men
serve the Church faithfully on their own lines. To
lengthen this digression, in 1878 I visited city
churches, about forty of them, and took notes of the
population in each parish, the seats in each church,
the stipend, and the attendance, leaving out St Paul's
Cathedral. The sleeping population in all the city
is still only about thirty-four thousand, and there are
seats in the city churches for twenty-three thousand.
The average stipend was eight hundred pounds. One
parish, in West Ham, equals nearly the whole of the
city residents, but two hundred and forty pounds a
year is the single stipend, whilst that for a similar
number of city souls aggregates forty thousand
pounds a year. I spent these Sundays in collecting
facts and found congregations of less than a dozen in
many churches. The obvious moral to the tale is that
the sites of these empty city churches — being worth
somewhere about five millions sterling — might be sold
and the churches might be moved bodily to meet the
needs of ever-growing parishes in greater London.
To return to the Club. Just before it opened,
some workman, on a Saturday, left a tap running at
the very top of the house, and as there was no one
sleeping on the premises, the Club was deluged with
water, from four ceilings right down to the basement.
The water had an uninterrupted run, as long as a
play I once produced, but somehow it was the best
thing for the Club. In face of this disaster, the
members were sympathetic, and brought in a lot of
new candidates, and Tree and Alexander came and
helped at the opening ceremony, as they both did at
the Club's closing ceremony. During those years
222 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
our members unconsciously contributed very largely
to the humour of many situations. An undesirable
candidate, escaping the vigilance of the electorate,
got in. I tried with money to tempt her to resign
her membership. She became furious, and went
straight to one of our committee. " I have been
grossly insulted. Mr Munday has offered me a sum
of money to resign ; what shall I do ? " " Sit tight
and you will get double," was the sporting advice.
A candidate, whose husband was the head of a
very remarkable organisation, was refused member-
ship. She wrote thus : " If Mr Munday cannot give
... a satisfactory explanation why Mrs has not
been elected to the Green Park Club, she will be
forced to place the matter in the hands of her solici-
tor." Another lady expressed indignant surprise
when her account for two days and nights at the Club
was presented. She said she thought that " ex-
penses " were included in her subscription^
Janotha, who wrote this charming compliment
(" Everybody seems to do as you ask; how could it
be otherwise .'' ") was playing in her matchless way at
one of our entertainments, when the Guards' Band
passed by playing in fiill swing. She modulated into
their key, played their music with them, then she
returned to her own music without once stopping.
Our method of election was by selection. This
had its precedent. The first officials of the sublime
Society of Beefsteaks, 1735, consisted of a President,
Vice-President, Bishop, Recorder, and Boots. As
at Boodles in 1774, the presiding power was the
Proprietor, with an advisory committee chosen by
himself. The same species of tribunal made the rules
and governed White's Club in 1697.
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 223
There was no rejecting candidates by the black-
ball — undesirables were indefinitely put back, which
means that their elections were indefinitely post-
poned. It is time that the barbarous mortification
caused by the blackball should cease. All above
mediocrity have petty enemies, who can indulge in
irresponsible spite, and do, by means of the blackball.
In a Proprietory Club the Proprietor is powerful.
My advisory committees are a sort of Privy Council,
not necessarily known to each other, or to the mem-
bers. They are chosen from public men and women
who know the world and know it whole ; therefore,
rules are formed more to protect clubs against abuse
than to enforce laws like Lycurgus did that will
admit of no alteration. For eighteen years I have
known this system work as the best check of abuse,
and the best encouragement of privilege.
As an instance of the impotence of rules, a mem-
ber of a club that had hundreds of by-laws found
ways for a wager to break any one of them, and to
do no end of things outre that were not prohibited by
any rule. He was found sound asleep in his bath
at 3 o'clock a.m., and asked what rule there was to
prevent him. There never can be rules to meet the
case of one who means to break them, but the tactful
appeal to one's reasonableness will generally save
from the mortification of being asked to resign. Tact
and light touch are the essence of diplomacy. Club
management gives ample opportunity to test the
quality of this statement. I would extend these
methods to the management of prisons and mad-
houses.
Peg Woffington was the first entertainer at a
Ladies' .Club in 1749. She is described as a jovial
224 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
bottle companion, but with few charms as a mere
female. The last lady who entertained at the Green
Park Club was Mrs Cyril Maude (Miss Winifred
Emery), who possessed all the charms necessary to
portray to perfection the exacting character of Lady
Teazle. Her husband, the inimitable Cyril, acted
Sir Peter on this occasion, fulfilling a promise made
to me many years previously and so did Fred Terry
and his beautiful wife, JuHa Neilson. So many dis-
tinguished artistes were constant visitors to my two
clubs that one feels no need of apology for writing a
few personal lines mingled as they must ever be with
pleasant memories and sorrowful regrets. Melba
was, of course, the gem. She not only sang for
nothing at the Lyric, but declined a paying engage-
ment on the same evening. I learned by this an
important lesson: if you want a woman to do a
favour, ask her boldly. Do not bargain. It is the
privilege of the great to give, and to give generously.
Patti never sang for me. She told me her fees were
one thousand pounds for each performance. The
programme in which Melba made her appearance was
one of four hundred, the standard we were for ever
trying to keep up to. At the Lyric, on the front page
of our programmes, was usually a beautiful original
drawing by certain of our members, who numbered
many famous artists: such camarderie cannot be
priced, only valued. In 1895 John Burns, who
was then a Liberal, sanctioned the reserve and
monopoly of a portion of Battersea Park for the
Green Park Club's use. One cannot help stop-
ping to gasp at the Socialists allowing the
people's park to be roped in for the exclusive use of
the smart set, but, luckily for the people, the royal
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 225
parks guard the people's interests better, and when
a similar request was made for exclusive privilege in
Hyde Park, we were rightly sent to the rightabout.
Bicycling was the fashionable vogue, and it was the
custom to ride at six o'clock in the morning, and to
have breakfast from seven till nine in the Club en-
closure. Reminiscent of this custom is a Httle note
I have just unearthed from Helen, Lady Radnor,
in which she says : " I have taken many parties to
Battersea Park who thought breakfast in our Club
enclosure quite dehghtful." BicycHng is dead now,
and motoring is at its height, and we may yet fly,
and we can insure against all risks, except the risks
of walking. Two philanthropists I have known,
whose works do follow them, were Sam Lewis
and George Herring. They, like other friends, Mrs
Mackay and her son Clarence, were prodigious in
their charities. Mrs Sam's sister was Hope Temple,
well known at our clubs, a charming song-writer,
who married Messager, and who queens it in
France, where her brilliant husband composes and
conducts grand opera there and here. A hundred
original songs (accompanied by their composers) were
sung by great artistes who first constellated there.
Paderewski and Ysaye played at the Lyric Club, but,
it is true, only upon the billiard table, when tears,
careless tears (pronounced tares) left their evidences
on the cloth! The list is legion of professional
friends who were amateurs then. Kennerley
Rumford and Plunkett Greene made their first
appearance at the Club when they were amateurs.
Writing from memory, amongst the leading
amateurs at the close of the last century * who all
appeared in some or other of my concerts were : —
* Or since — tact ! P
226 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
Mrs and Miss Ellicott
Sir Geo. Power
Edmund Royds
Captain F. C. Ricardo
Hon. Edmund Thesiger
Hon. Alec. Yorke
Allan Mackinnon
Cyril Streatfield
Chas. Lamb
Mr and Mrs Walkes
Mrs Arkwright
Lord Glentworth
Sir Aubrey Deane Paul
Harold Boulton
Claude Ponsonby
Dundas Gardiner
Miss Amy Woodforde-Findon
Lady Grfffin
Countess Valda Gleichen
Lady Maud Warrender
Lord Shaftesbury
Lady Arthur Hill
Mrs Godfrey Pearse
Philip Trevor
Major Harrington Foote
Herman Herkomer
Lady Eleanor Harbord
Bob Martin
Frank Pownall
The Scott-Gattys
Captain Roper Caldbeck
The Gilbert Coleridges
Sir Timothy O'Brien
Lady Glentworth (now Limerick)
Her sister, Miss Irwin
Count Vinci
Mrs Lynedoch Moncrieff
Mrs George Batten
Kinsey Peile
Colnaghi and Cotsford Dick
Eustace Ponsonby
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 227
Miss Caroline Holland
P. A. Somers-Cocks
W. Bellasis
W. H. Spottiswoode
Cyril Spottiswoode
Louis and Miss d'Egville and many others.
" Par ordre de Police il est interdit de laisser chanter :
dancer: ou reciter les amateurs."
This notice, signed by the Mayor of Blois, France, was
exhibited in a low tavern in 1886. I bought it and hung it
at the Club — but few understood the special significance
of " les amateurs," and I dare not tell them!
At about that time humour crept into classical
programmes, but the surfeit of humour reacts sorrow-
fully on the heart, as when Corney Grain spoke to
Arthur Roberts, or Grossmith talked to Penley they
became sad, but the saddest of all was when
a lady engaged seven humorists the same evening.
I quite accept the responsibility for introducing
humour at classical concerts. I was blamed for the
innovation, but it came and stayed — and has con-
quered ; but if it is overdone, the curtain of gloom
requires Liberal legislation to raise it. I cannot
print the thousand artistes' names (they belong to
England) who helped at our clubs. They are written
indelibly in the chronicle of our time, and remem-
bered if unwritten in my chronicle of friendships.
As artistes their fame will extend well into the future.
By their presence they added distinction and interest
to the Green Park and Lyric Clubs, and can never be
separated in affection from the days of long ago.
Sims Reeves perhaps headed the list of men. Sir
Arthur Sullivan was prominently associated. Years
ago I revelled in a round of visits with him. He
took me the same night to the performance of his
228 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
Oratorio at the Albert Hall; to the performance of
his grand opera, " Ivanhoe," at the Opera House,
built by him and his friends, and now known as The
Palace ; and then to his comic opera, " The Mikado,"
at the Savoy. Every note in three houses written
by one Englishman, Arthur Sullivan. How pleased
and proud I felt with the crowded houses, and the
roars of applause. Religion, romance, and humour in
music — all the emotions that lend joy to life ! These
occasions gave me rich reminiscences of a sincere
and generous friend, a genius free from all affecta-
tion. Never too busy to talk leisurely ; fond of fun
and games of chance, and wholly indifferent to
money. He and D'Oyley Carte proposed me as a
Director of the then Opera House, but I had not
the money necessary to qualify. It is a sad reflec-
tion, but unreadiness caused the downfall of the
Opera House, for after " La Basoche," which ran
for too short a time, nothing was ready to follow it.
It was then sold to the Palace Theatre, managed by
dear old Morton, the Father of Music Halls, and
now by Alfred Butt. Unreadiness will not again be
its downfall, for " the readiness is all " — Butt !
The composers who at the Green Park and Lyric
accompanied their own works were legion — almost
all of their day. Besides Sir Arthur Sullivan, there
were Miss Frances AUitson, Sir Alfred Scott-Gatty,
Maude Valerie White, Miss Del Riego. There
were also Massenet, Sir Joseph Barnby, Cotsford
Dick, and Herman Bemberg; and again Edward
Solomon and Arthur Goring Thomas, Sir A. C.
Mackenzie and R. de Koven. To these add Sir
John Stainer and Arthur Hervey, Alberto Ran-
degger, Landon Ronald, Mrs Moncrieff, Lady Arthur
?i,, A.r;, ^.,
;^-^,- ..,-, .
' 'V., .■.., ..V -■. ■.
^^ , —'■'■
...U^-
,/.(.
V vv>>w^i-~,
s
!-)
"^j^.
t-Z-^tC,-^^ u^,...A .,,. 1„,
.c,
.li'l-
r,-.
.-.ii,.-«fc=-
' /
''L
^ Vx
'^^\'
'':^~ " ■"
BRIEF CHRONICLES OF
Sir Arthur Sullivan. Harry Furniss.
Phil May. Lord Kitchener, K.P., K C B
Hope Temple. O.M., G.C.S.I., G.C.MG '
Thomas Hardy, O.M. G.C.I.E., LL.D. D C L
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 229
Hill, Amy Woodforde-Findon, Lionel Monckton,
and Hope Temple, Lawrence Kellie, Bevigniani,
Arditi, Hedgecock, Ernest Ford, Wilfrid BendaU,
Bob Martin, Quilter, Bunning, Caryll, Mattel,
Cellier, Denza, Lambert, and Sir Paolo Tosti, and
hosts of others.
One night I went with Carl Rosa, the founder of
the Opera Company, to the first night of a new opera.
Instead of sitting in a box or a stall we stood through
one act in the gallery, and the other act at the back
of a very crowded pit. This was an object lesson.
I learnt that it is the lack of business quality that
brings financial riiin to many, in other callings
besides the theatrical. The manager must follow the
public in order to lead them. It is a high achieve-
ment and a most difficult art, and it generally
takes the best years of one's life to accomplish it.
Artistically, Herve and Offenbach had raised the
operetta to such heights that it had to fall, till Gilbert
and Sullivan came along. When they came they
stayed, and have stayed for a quarter of a century,
and will stay.
The Green Park Club was going along so well
that I began almost to fear success with a shyness
with which one meets a stranger. After so many
partial failures, I ever smothered the fires of ambition
with cinders of patience, and decided to sell when
Ladies' Clubs began to decline. I was wrong. The
movement which I started was really only half-
fledged. Ladies' Clubs were only beginning, but,
rightly or wrongly, I sold my Club. Since those
days I have seen Ladies' Clubs grow upwards under
abler direction and more up to date, but the goodwill
of artistes never again quite found home rest in club-
230 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
land. There are all kinds of characters in the artistic
temperament. One artiste who helped us we called
" the bore contradictor." He was a thriftless soul,
but he never left a friend in the lurch. He talked so
incessantly that he grew deaf for want of practice in
listening. I used to replenish my stock of metaphors
through forced listenings to his ceaseless chatter. In
the end his voice grew so weak that no one could hear
him unless he said ill-natured things. He ended his
days in Switzerland, where he grew jealous of the
homage paid to the mountains. Lord Dorchester one
day pleased me vastly by making this proposal:
" Would there be a chance of your Green Park Club
accommodating the Dilettante Society, by hanging
their pictures .'' About fifteen of us give six dinners in
a year between the months of February and July, the
first Sunday in each month. If you think the idea
worth considering, I would call on you or refer
you to Mr Colvin (now Sir Sydney) at the British
Museum, our Secretary, or you would find me at
home at about twelve any day. It was unnecessary
to write justification, as my confidence was not
shaken. I knew about your worries at the Lyric
Club. ' 'Tis not in mortals to command success,' as
Cato says. We will do more . . . deserve it —
Yours very truly, Dorchester."
Fancy these masterpieces, trophies by dead artistes
of the past two hundred years, within an ace of hang-
ing in our Club! But it was not to be. Our chef
was, alas, not good enough to entertain the Dilet-
tante Society. I nursed a vision of founding a
Ladies' Dilettante Society, but up to now it has
not materialised. I did not succeed in getting the
lady president I wanted. Some day I may! I can
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 231
imagine nothing more delightful than a society of
the very best living female representatives of Art,
Science, and Literature meeting and dining together
monthly, and each inviting a man as her guest. Lord
Dorchester's letter revived this idea, which I hope
may one day be crystallised. The Dilettante Society
is nearly two hundred years old. Walpole said
the nominal qualification was having been in Italy.
The members were of the best. Their funds
were largely raised by fines. They paid these fines
on increase of income and on marriage. (This
rule is revived in the Bachelors' Club). Lord Gros-
venor paid five guineas on his marriage with Miss
Leveson Gower. Eleven guineas was handed in by
the Duke of Bedford on his appointment as First
Lord of the Admiralty ; twenty-two guineas given by
the Duke of Kingston on an appointment ; twopence
three farthings by Lord Sandwich on becoming Re-
corder of Huntingdon ; six shillings and eightpence
by the Duke of Buccleuch on getting the Thistle;
and so on. They spent the money in research in
Italy and Greece, and published volumes on ancient
sculpture ; but they never had a club-house. During
that year I got twenty-five guineas and twenty
guineas in fees for reporting and advising upon the
probabilities of success concerning two clubs about
to start. In each case my advice was the same as
Mr Punch's advice to those about to marry. There
is no road but experience, though we often get
too tired of waiting to enjoy its prizes.
The Club was sold, and we resolved to settle in
the country; but before we went, the members
arranged a complimentary farewell to us both;
which affair, Constance, Lady Romney, organised,
232 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
and everybody was most kind about it. George
Alexander stood by us. He is just the sort of man
that would stand by. From the stage of St James'
Theatre he said a lot of nice things. He alluded to
the work of my earlier days (though we had never
worked together), the days when we lived next door
to each other in Park Row, and were friends, though
not intimate. Goodwill charged the atmosphere in
the St James' Theatre, which was crowded with
acquaintances, and I feel now that we ought to have
gone on the stage and thanked everybody personally,
but we felt just a little choky, and gratefully shy. I
do not think any of us know really who our friends
are ; the curious limitations, the cold forms of expres-
sion, though they do not stifle the deeper emotions,
make them difficult to explain in words. As when a
man who really is in love stammers over what he
meant to say, while the whole time the girl knows
this to be the best evidence of the real thing, so
in friendship, eloquence does not entirely express
deep sincerity ; silence often speaks better. George
Alexander just said little simple things about us, and
then we quietly bade farewell to London. There was
an April-day feeling about it all. Clouds heavily
charged, and just a rainbow formed from the glitter-
ing of tears upon sunshine — a quiver full of friend-
ships. The calamity, if one may use the word, of
sentiment, for sentiment it was of the best, did not
exist in the times of the ancient Greeks, not until
the Alexandrian period, and George Alexander re-
vived it that day. Perhaps life's widest knowledge
will tell of the value obtained by sensitive realisation.
All beautiful things are difficult to create, more
difficult to reproduce. We keenly felt that we had
V.
.... ^
M
'
, \
.. .-,,- ^■
~
'■' X 1
■^^
( < 1,
"»
'>" ■ ■.! (.
^- ' ^"''
<' -
(, , ( ^
?
^
J."
^
•■" '^■" "'^
V?
*"
>i
-—1' -,. ..
n;
I
-■-' '5'- '
ij .
;*_' [ .'■;
,...-'/-•- '"-'"^
>^1
-n o- ^r „ .^
-h-^
lU-
2/
J 'to
i#ri
\/
j_li_ .iTWUrt- -
v^.-^
i*-"
:^ii/V^
^ifci
ll....
--'■'■^
lIi-Jj,
=^L
g
'^
~r_"ir.^T^-f-
_l..^
t.4t=^
i?l
It-;
'-'■t-
i\_
:i
1. ' ff" <
. 1 'h- i,''
..
M
,;a' s>
SJ
i . 1
J, -^ -n" ,.
\t-m.
rE
"■^ ^-
SOUVENIRS AND DEDICATIONS.
Sir Henry Irvire:. Lawrence Kellie.
Sir Arthur Sullivan. Sir John Stainer.
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 233
never done anything to deserve this spontaneous
ovation ; it seemed to us " much adieu about
nothing."
However, the practical result was a motor-car and
a cheque (both have passed away), but that day's
token of goodwill is still fresh through the lapse of
years. Shortly after these club episodes were written,
the principal figure in the later days' prosperity of the
Green Park passed on, leaving affectionate memories
in the minds and hearts of those who had profited by
her unchanging friendship. The passing away of
Constance, Countess of Romney, the last President,
revives historic memories, beyond the boundaries of
the Green Park Club, of two social tragedies of the
far-off sixties. Posthumous, daughter of the second
Marquis of Hastings; she was also sister of the last
and ill-fated holder of the title, who met his end when
but twenty-six, a ruined and broken-hearted man,
under circumstances as sadly dramatic as any ever
enacted in the old Adelphi days. Tragedy touched
Lady Romney again when her late husband, then
Viscount Marsham, lost at the gaming tables the
princely fortune of one hundred thousand pounds in
one night.
To conclude. In connection with my apprentice-
ship and management of clubs, my five hundred
entertainments, to which artistes, voluntarily every
one, contributed, were as follows :
i6 at 175 Bond Street, Lyric Club
113 at Lyric Club, Piccadilly East
48 at Lyric Club, Barnes
21 at 63 St James' Street, New Lyric Club
3 at 38 Dover Street, New Lyric Club
8 at Royal Institute of Painters, New Lyric
Club
234 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
II at 7 St James' Place, Green Park Club
16 at Buckingham Palace Hotel, Green Park
Club
165 at 10 Grafton Street, Green Park Club
making 401 in my own clubs' interest
57 at People's Palace for charity
about 42 for various other charities.
Total 500 in thirteen years.
I did what I could to secure artistes engagements,
and possibly there might have been a fortune in an
agency — but I never took such commissions in my
life.
CHAPTER XV
Royal Waterloo Hospital for Children — The Christmas-card Cot
— Queen Alexandra and the Waif — The Coming of the Smart
Set — Some Service Friends — The French Circus — Some Mis-
cellaneous Anecdotes— An Unrepealed Act of Parliament.
1 AM privileged with having served for some years on
the Special Appeal Committee of the Royal Waterloo
Hospital for Children and Women, twice taking the
chair in the absence of the President and Vice-
President, the Duke of Argyll and H.R.H. Prince
Alexander of Teck. At present I am a delegate on
the board of Governors. Some time in 1907 I wrote
a two-lined request to the Morning Post requesting
that old Christmas cards might be sent by the public to
the Waterloo Hospital, Waterloo Road. The result
was unexpected. One million and a half arrived, and
they are continuing to arrive daily. The scheme
was simple. The rich were to give the cards, the
idle were to clean and restore them, the poor were to
buy them very cheap, and to sell them again to those
still poorer. In this way the charity acted automati-
cally, and the proceeds resulted in the establishment
of a Christmas-card cot at the Hospital.
Where to store them was the trouble. As a last
resource we transferred them to our cottage at
Maidenhead Thicket. I have been shunned ever
since. My clubs and my friends' houses have been
snowed up with Christmas cards, and my wife has
236
236 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
given me to understand that if we are to continue to
live together I must provide some space in the house
for her. From year to year ladies work at card
restoration, under Miss Daisy Davidson's organising,
and so I have not needed to do anything except lean,
as I always have done, on the good nature of others
to carry out my ideas. However, the cot has entered
on its fourth year, 191 2. The discard of useless cards
is about seventy per cent, and these are given away
to crippled waifs and strays at the rate of one
hundred thousand a year. One who has recently
passed away, whose latter years were unostenta-
tiously devoted to the Hospital, told me that nothing
was more heartrending than the farewells, nothing
more touching than the kisses and endearments by
which the nurses strove to soften for these desolate
waifs the pang of leaving the Hospital to return to
their slums. A similar sight is familiar on our
village green, when London children leave the sky
and flowers to return to town after their short holiday.
But " the charming agony of love whose misery
delights " has sometimes found expression differ-
ently. One boy, when his mother hoped he would
have fine weather, said he hoped so indeed, for the
country was quite dull enough at best of times. The
oft-told story of Queen Alexandra's tactful sympathy
originated, I believe, at the Waterloo Hospital, when
Her Majesty asked a poor little dying waif where
she lived. "Near Whiteley's, my lady; where do
you?" "Near Gorringe's," repHed the Queen.
Let me here set down one of time's enigmas, told
me by an old Lyric member, who is now, I suppose,
the doyen tutor of Eton and Cambridge, and the
author of many books of historical interest. A witness
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 237
in a police court was asked if he had brothers. He
said that he had one, but that he had died one
hundred and forty years ago! In explanation, the
witness stated that he was the issue of a second
marriage. His father married first in 1769, at the
age of nineteen, and the following year there was
born a son, who died when only a few months old.
The father married again in 1820, at the age of
seventy, and the witness was born the year following,
being eighty-nine years of age when giving evidence.
On 1 8th August, 19 ro, there passed away Sir
Fleetwood Edwards, Keeper of the Privy Purse,
and a most trusted and intimate adviser of Queen
Victoria. Though shy and retiring in his demeanour,
he was a man of remarkable charm and determina-
tion, which was hardly apparent at first. Sir Fleet-
wood, Lord Strafford, Sir Henry Ponsonby, and
Alec Yorke have all passed away. They had
all been guests at my Wednesday theatre
parties and beauty parties. These Wednesdays
have been going on ever since 1888. They are the
only means I had or have of returning the numerous
hospitalities received from so many quarters. These
parties were limited to four. We lunched together,
and then went on to some matinee. How grateful
I am to the managers for their courtesy and kindness.
The other little form of entertainment I called " tea
and chat." Beauty parties they really were, and
most of the beauties of those years were present, and
some met their fate. As is well known, even as late
as the nineties, " the smart set " was a vulgarity un-
known, and money as a social lever was practically
useless. Great ladies did not then borrow lists of
dancing men. The parvenu and the social climber
238 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
could not force an entrance. Though stately splen-
dour was varied by dowdy dullness, trade and some
professions took little or no part in society. The cult
of the professional beauty was the first sign of social
breakdown when mere good looks were placed too
high as a claim to distinction; then followed the
money tyranny ; and then our American cousins
made things move rapidly, and to-day sees the social
debacle through motor-cars, flats and hotel Hfe.
Little coteries of many sets spring up in all
quarters, but the social doings of the greater houses
practically ceased during the last years of Queen
Victoria's reign. I cannot imagine my little parties
of professional beauties being other than vulgar
to-day, but they were not so twenty years ago. Many
a good time is associated with them. We used to
have judges, most of whose names have appeared in
these pages. One was Sir Charles Euan Smith; a
fine stock of stories he had, and a wonderful way of
telling them. Here is one :
While he was in the bazaar, or market-place, of
an Afghan town, he was fired at by a native. He
lodged a complaint with the Ameer of Afghanistan,
who appeared to take no notice of the incident,
merely remarking, " That's all right." Sir Charles
complained again, and met with the same reply. He
still thought that the Ameer was treating a serious
matter with less consideration than it deserved, but
thought it advisable to say no more on the subject.
About a week afterwards he was invited by the
Ameer to ride with him. They rode for some dis-
tance outside the town, when they passed gibbet
after gibbet, from each of which dangled a man. At
length Sir Charles remarked : " I see that your High-
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 239
ness has been busy of late." " Oh no ! " replied the
Ameer, " these are your little lot." He had taken
all the members of the would-be assassin's family and
hanged every one of them.
Other judges were Lord de Lisle and Dudley,
Admiral Denison, Lord Henry Bruce, Lord
Wrottesley, Lord Edward Spencer Churchill — and
good judges they were ; and the best of it was, not
one of the lady guests ever doubted but that she was
singled out as queen of beauty.
Many friends will remember, with affection, the
genial R.A. and the hospitable salon at the Bough-
tons. I used to go with Chesborough and Boughton
to the Savage Club — that delightful Bohemia that
attracts so many men of varied tastes and talents.
Twice I sang there. Saturday is their great day,
when actors dine and return after the theatre to en-
tertain each other until three or four in the morning.
Lord Wolesley took the chair at the foundation
dinner of some new club which I was interested in
organising. He was then the hero of the hour, had
gathered laurels from everywhere, and was called
" Our only General." He was a man of the world,
spruce, and debonair, brave enough as all great
men are to acknowledge God before men. I could
count in those days upon meeting many soldier and
sailor friends at the Service Clubs who had attained
distinction, and many more who have attained it
since. There were Field Marshall Sir Paul Haines,
Generals Keogh, Playfair, Watson, Duff, Hutchin-
son (who had twenty parrots in his library at home),
and Admiral Denison, with his wonderful microscope.
There was Captain Hutton, perhaps the best in the
army at foils ; he was challenged by Miss Lowther,
240 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
which hurt his feelings. There was Captain Hadden
(now General Sir Charles), Colonel Andrew Haggard,
the most picturesque writer of romance in the army,
Major Ricarde Seaver, distinguished in mining
operations. Colonel Hemans, the son of Felicia
Hemans, England's great Victorian poetess. There
was J. M. Grierson, then a Captain (now General
Sir James), and Captains Heathom and Brownlow,
R.N. There were Majors Jocelyn, Goldsmid,
Otway, MacLaughlan (amateur champion soldier
singer), and Colonel Langley ; and how many others
previously referred to in these pages. All of them
entertained me well and often, and talked of
subjects outside my limited little world. How
petty personal memoirs may become! A lazy
life makes little things seem important. I steadily
refused good pay for good service then and since,
fancying that I preferred obscure freedom to salaried
servitude. In club making and theatrical managing
all those years I had to affect something of the
courtier, without possessing any of the courtier's
quaHties. I waded through various social waters,
and was sometimes embarrassed with failure ; at
others boldly successful, filled with illicit pride and
secret pleasure, flattered by Httle side commis-
sions for work in chalk or clay, getting narcotised
with much display of artistry, but really only walking
in by-paths of artistic aspiration. Then I began to
fall foul of old friends over politics, investing this
moth-eaten subject with majestic awe, and treating
lightly the greater things of life, as one does in a
theatre, where pale and artificial sin and virtue from
behind the footlights deeply stir our emotions, while
real sin and real virtue in daily life stir us much less.
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 241
Now, however, is no time for mean anxieties. I
wish perhaps that it was as customary to say grace
before good intentions, as to say grace before meat.
Then our silences might become unerring forms of
speech. Our inexpressible concords of feeling would
prove to be the only true demonstrations of that
miserably misconstrued sixth sense called tact. (I
was once constrained to write to Pinero on the sub-
ject of tact, to which he replied that he had it in his
mind sooner or later to write a play on the subject.
I wish he would.)
In Southwark Cathedral, at our Shakespeare
Memorial Service this year, I was introduced to the
Poet Laureate, who read a lecture upon Shakespeare
from the pulpit. Sometimes one indelibly associates
a person with his writing, and all the time the poet
was speaking I was thinking of the clever little
couplet he wrote of our great Victorian comedy
actress many years ago, now Lady Bancroft:
" Where saucy Wilton winks her way,
And says the more, the less she has to say."
In August, 1910, I paid a visit to Marie Corelli,
a visit to herself, not her talent, for I am ashamed to
say I have never read one of her novels, though I live
in hopes that this will soon blow over. She does
herself much justice in a tete-a-tete, and is de-
lightfully original when excited. Thence to that
incomparable beauty of her day, Madame de
Navarro, nee Mary Anderson, whose greatest
rival is her own sister — Mrs Herkomer, thence (all
in Broadway) to Lady Blomfield, the widow of an old
friend, Sir Arthur, and on to Lyndhurst, full of
memories of Miss Braddon, Lord Leighton, and the
Q
242 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
Londesboroughs ; then home, spending a night with
George and Evie Nicholson in the snow on Salisbury
Plain, where we lost the track in our motor within
six hours of May!
I was young enough to see humour even in this;
but the man endowed with humour is like the quality
of mercy. He is twice blest, and not strained. He
need not take himself seriously. He finds it easy to
be tolerant and sympathetic, a pleasant neighbour
and a desirable friend, and can rise ruthlessly over
every emotion. Humour is a great leveller, and an
antidote to cynicism and morbidity, for it shows how
small a space divides the best of us from the worst.
It kills false pride and nourishes warm sympathies.
It defends our ideals from mockery and proves the
strength of our faith in anybody, or anything.
Let me now put down a few stories which come
into my head. Someone — it may have been the
beautiful Princess Monaco — told me that the resi-
dent English clergyman at Monte Carlo gave out
no hymns under number thirty-six, because some of
the congregation were apt to take down the numbers
and back them for luck at roulette. My dear old
friend, the Rev. Hugh Chapman, now Chaplain of
the Chapel Royal, Savoy, was so delighted with his
new telephone that he gave out hymn number three
double eight, Gerrard. Another friend, who might
not wish it repeated, gave out that during Lent there
would be matinees on Wednesdays and Fridays.
Going back to 1888, referred to previously, I
travelled through the beautiful country of the Loire,
with a view to improving my French, with a French
circus. My wife had some letters of introduction to
French friends, with whom she stayed, and where I
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 243
joined her at different points from time to time. She
was slightly embarrassed at meeting me, one after-
noon, giving a little outing to the giantess, the
skeleton, the electric lady, and the dwarf, with whom
I was promenading the corridors of an ancient castle.
However, she showed her usual tact and never told
her friends that I belonged to her.
A dear old friend, the only time she went to chapel,
heard the pastor pray for rain, and after the service
there came on almost a deluge. " That's the worst of
Nonconformists, they always overdo things," she
said. I lunched with Sandow, who ate, drank, and
smoked quite normally, like all his guests. He ex-
plained : " I have to lift an orchestra and piano and
conductor on my chest in fifteen minutes' time at
the PaviHon opposite " ; and there, if you please, I
found him holding all the lot on a platform that
rested on his shoulders and knees. I have seen
him hold a Cabinet Minister — one who lacked the
modesty of blatant self-consciousness — by the small
of his trousers and lift him over his head at arms'
length. At the Pavilion Sandow introduced me to a
loquacious Australian, who said he did not know
what was coming over Sydney, he did not suppose
there were three men in the whole town to-day
who could write " Hamlet." His daughter expressed
herself as a great admirer of Mr Shakespeare's
writings, though she did not think he was quite a
gentleman. " Au revoir," she said, " there is nothing
either good or bad, but thinking makes it so-so."
Max Beerbohm told me he was writing a series of
articles on the brothers of eminent men; the first
subject would be Herbert. To a marriage I went,
and anxiously asked who the bridegroom was. It
244 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
was her own husband! They had married, sepa-
rated, travelled the world over, each search-
ing for someone to love better; they met in
a lift, he raised his hat, a new courtship began,
and to-day they are married. It is not given to us
all to fall in love more than once with the same
woman. On the day of Lord Tennyson's death, an
admirable pantomime writer shook me flabbily by
the hand and said, " Another vacancy in our ranks :
Tennyson is dead ! "
A Bishop, whom a child had been primed to
address as " My Lord," said, " How old may you be,
my child ? " Shivering with fright, he replied, " My
God, I'm seven! "
A mother, accustomed to read a little from the
stories of the Bible on Sunday afternoons, suggested
the immortal legend of Eden. " Mother, dear, we
are so sick of the Adamses." And when told that
Eve was formed from Adam's rib and made into his
wife, she said, an hour after, with her little hand over
her heart, " Mother, dear, I am in such pain, I think
I am going to have a little wife! "
An Irishman and Scotchman, walking along a
country road, came to a signpost at the crossing of
the roads ; somebody had written in chalk under-
neath, " If you cannot read, ask the blacksmith round
the corner." The Irishman bubbled with apprecia-
tion, but the Scotchman was puzzled and North ernly
annoyed. During the night he woke his friend to
say, " Patrick, I see it no\v; the blacksmith might
have been oot! "
We have all sorts of waifs down from London;
amongst them I remember two sailors, handy men
out of work. I gave them each a stool and a bucket,
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 245
and said I was sorry I had no other work to offer
them except milking cows at a neighbour's farm.
After some time one of them returned very di-
shevelled, and handed me back the stool and the
bucket, and said he could only manage to unmilk
a pint. Two hours later the other came back a
complete wreck. He told me he had done his level
best for three hours, but for the life of him he could
not make the cow sit upon the stool!
I have referred in this book to unrepealed Acts
more than once. The drollest of these Act^ I will
try to explain. It took effect during the early days
of my occupation of a small cottage, which at the
time I held in fee simple from the Lord of the
Manor. I had to bring my annual offering, I forget
what — either two turtle doves, a rabbit, or a shilling
— " to be acknowledged." I got rather tired of this
holding, " in free and common socage," which im-
pHed determinate service, etc., etc. ; so I sought
relief from this fealty, with suit of court and other
customs. A price was arranged, and forthwith I
was marched off to gain my freedom, being duly
" acknowledged " ; the deed was read to me by the
steward, and then the Lord of the Manor told me
to stand half-sideways and the steward struck me
with some weapon upon some part of my body, say-
ing, " By virtue of this rod, I acknowledge you, etc.,
etc.," and so the farce ended; and as long as it
remains a farce it need not be mended.
A peer of recent creation, however, bought a farm-
house, from which he took his title, and showed me
the conveyance or title; he bought it because it
was the oldest available. My eyes! there were
privileges specified in it that had any attempt been
246 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
made to exercise them the peer would have gone to
the gallows or the country to a revolution, but as
far as I can ascertain, no Act of Parliament has
ever repealed these laws. They have slept or crept
into abeyance, like many more. One law, still
on the Statute Book, imposes penalties upon
persons using " any boats " upon the Lord's Day.
Scotland made it a capilal offence in the fifteenth
century to be caught playing golf on a Sunday ! The
King's perquisites, though not enacted, are still
within His Majesty's right to claim. Every sturgeon,
his tailor's silver needle, the upper part of every
whale, and from their respective sources, a curry-
comb, a white dove, a tablecloth, a white hare, a
knife, a nightcap, scarlet stockings, and crossbows.
It is quaint reading that the levee of King or
Queen was once an actual ceremonial of getting out
of bed and dressing; that Lord Leicester, who was
Master of the Horse, arrogated to himself the honour-
able famiharity of a Lady of the Bedchamber, hand-
ing Queen Elizabeth her clothing, and daring to kiss
without being invited to do so (luckily repealed).
My gifted friend, Richard Davey, in his " Tower
of London," thus describes the bestowal of the order
of the Bath. " One of the most curious ceremonies
that ever took place was the creation, by Henry IV.,
of some forty-six Knights of the Bath. The candi-
dates for this high honour were first conducted to
one of the halls in the White Tower, where forty-
six baths, luxuriously draped and filled with warm
water, stood ready prepared. After the knights had
sat in the baths for a while, the King to each in turn
took some of the water and made the sign of the
Cross with it on the shoulders of the occupants,
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 247
solemnly pronouncing, at the same time, the words
which created him a Knight of the Bath. When the
royal party left the hall, the newly made knights
were dried by their esquires and ceremoniously put
into the adjacent beds."
Let me return back to modern times. Andrew
Haggard and I were asked to dine at a rich
vulgarian's * of political distinction, where we played
a practical joke. Our host told us the price he
paid for all his possessions, including the wine.
Andrew and I, wishing to show our covert disgust,
explained how bad wine always produced some spots
on our hands ; we then pressed heavily on the holes
of the cane-bottomed chairs we were sitting on, and
the pressure produced very white lumps like warts,
and the surrounding skin got very red. This effect
we displayed quite undisturbed, much to the agita-
tion of our host, and in all manner of ways we
pretended to allay cutaneous irritation.
Turning to the Church, my wife remembers as
visitors to her home, Cardinal Manning, Cardinal
Newman, and Keble, the latter of whom gave her
his poems, with an additional one in his own hand-
writing. Her aunt wrote down this: that Newman
said. Faith, Hope, and Charity are a better explana-
tion of the success of Christianity than Gibbon's five
reasons. But I remember Dean Church saying that
Christianity was a more wonderful thing if it were
not true than if it were. Huxley wrote that he
could extract a book on scepticism from Newman's
writing. Newman retaliated that he could write a
book on religion culled from Huxley's views.
I am nearing the end of my story, and am
* Andrew and I think we were equally vulgarian.
248 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
nervous with the sensations which accompany the
compiUng of one's first book ; one wonders whether,
all unintentionally, feelings have been hurt, whether
friends will be false or foes will be too true, whether
the voyage of one's book may be bound in shallows
and in miseries. No doubt it is the proper thing to
write in the spirit of the reader, but allowing for all
this, I confess to the feeling that these pages make
me feel like Balaam, as if an ice-taloned prong shot
through the brain or pericardium, or like the listening
to one's own voice for the first time in public, or the
vision of one's first sculpture reproduced. Perhaps
memory, which is ever faithful in recording others'
sayings, has treacherously forgotten sometimes to
acknowledge whose they were. Perhaps intimate
conversations have left in my mind some deposit of
others' thoughts, quoted but unacknowledged.
Language is a strange puzzle ; all the world is
putting together again and again the same words in
different forms. Who was it said that he and Shake-
speare wrote about the same number of words, only
they arranged them differently? Natural reflections,
yielded by the habitual society of those whose
friendships are dear, have yielded to me that happi-
ness which students find in books and study. The
heart of youth is reached through the senses, and the
senses of age are reached through the heart. No
man can be wise to-day, or expect to see the con-
ditions of the world truly, who has never been a
fool. In my ramblings and amblings, my autumn
manoeuvres so to speak, I found human nature more
interesting than books. I used to try and dissect it.
I began with the hereditary privileged classes, and I
found some were immoral, or lacking morals, some
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 249
thriftless, hard drinkers, gamblers, neither reputable
nor respectable, and, like many, acting perversely.
Such men shamed their order. Yet amongst all these
so-called privileged classes, I never met one who
would forsake a friend, who would shrink from dan-
ger, or refuse when needed to serve his country in
the meanest capacity ; never one, however wealthy,
who would vulgarly parade his riches, however
proud, who would indulge in petty conceit, and I
have never found the slightest class hatred between
peers and people. I mention class hatred because
it is the ruling curse. It is the creation of the
envious climber, but as when the wasp sips flowers
enough he soon stops humming, so the climber
ceases to agitate when he tastes the prizes of office.
Beginning his political life as a fierce Socialist, he
becomes, in the natural process of evolution, a
Radical, and ends in his order of congruity — a peer.
I wrote and rewrote this book at odd times. I
fear it is commonplace. My previous experience
has only been collaboration in playwriting, and
then I did none of the writing, only watched the
dramatic development, and felt the public pulse, as
it were ; but here I sit with a dictionary on one
side, and a handbook about composition on the
other, with a memory so bad that I have had to
brush it up by committing to memory the names of
the new Chinese Cabinet. Remembrance I regard
with suspicion. I have survived many of my
friends. Can I be surviving myself, to pay the un-
willing tax that follies, foibles, faults, and frailties,
wantonness and night-errantry so often pay in the
multiplicity of years? In these pages I have had
more than once to scratch out a story told in
250 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
previous chapters. The past I see through a
magnifying glass, the ego everywhere through it
all- — letters too narrow of subject and barren in
interest to insert, and where they are of value,
the writers bar one the privilege. I was naturally
desirous to obtain permission to insert letters
received from certain quarters, but the request was
declined in a long letter, gracious and friendly in
expression, and quite convincing in its reasonable-
ness, so my disappointment was somewhat miti-
gated. In this chronicle of friendships I am beset
with many difficulties. I seem not to be able to
avoid the appearance of snobbishness, but the very
nature of Clubland renders it liable to be called
Snobland because of its everlastingly social aspira-
tion to ascend by petty stepping-stones. Amongst
the members of clubs of my own creation, there
number about five hundred bearing titles. It has
always seemed to me that when men have done good
public service and received patents of nobility in re-
ward, the approval of their fellow-countrymen should
be manifested with pride, somewhat as a schoolboy
regards the champion of his school. Such adulation
is in no sense snobbish. It would be reasonably
called snobbish if the adulation were paid to the
honours apart from the merit of the men who held
them. If Mr is my friend I write and speak
about him with pride ; if he is created Lord I
must avoid all allusion to him lest I should be
thought a snob.
I do not agree with this. I rather think that the
truckling to the uneducated orders is the present-day
manifestation of that detestable word.
CHAPTER XVI
Copyright in Letters— The Shakespeare Memorial— Who was
Shakespeare?
In the leisured language of the mind and the free-
dom from external distraction, the writer is revealed
in his individuality, or perhaps his moods are
modelled in accord with the person to whom he
writes. I cannot authenticate and characterise
these little tabloid biographies with the added charm
and help of personal letters. It was Joseph Ham-
blin Sears who told me this about letters, that only
the ink and the paper belonged to the addressee, that
the sense or the sentiment expressed did not, and
therefore could not legally be published without the
consent of the writer, so in my case it amounts prac-
tically to this, that of all the letters I possess, only
one is really my own property, and that is the stage
letter Duse gave me the first night she acted in Eng-
land, for it was only ink and paper, void of sense
or sentiment, scribbled to Armand during her great
act in " Dame aux Camellias." My collection of
letters has been accepted by the British Museum —
1 200, all personal yet useless for these memoirs.
In digging for ideas, quotable letters help one so
much to bury one's egoism. Stories and memoirs
are seldom told or written; they are always retold
and rewritten. Here in this chapter let me collect
a few passing subjects that have been interesting
251
252 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
to me. The Shakespeare Memorial is one, and
that for personal reasons, as I was at the first
meeting of its inception. It is a great comfort that
so little is known concerning Shakespeare that he
remains a fine mystery which I hope will never be
solved. It has been wittily said that if it was not
Shakespeare it was another man of the same name.
Was it William Stanley, sixth Earl of Derby?
There is some evidence to support that theory. He
employed Shakespeare as his stable boy, and com-
missioned him to go to London and take the Globe
Theatre, produce " Hamlet," and act the ghost.
Count Gleichen writes he was talking to Lady Derby
about " her illustrious ancestor " by marriage called
William Shakespeare! and she told him someone
was now routing about in the Knowsley Library in
search of facts. In the fire at Knowsley is supposed
to have perished all W. S.'s (WiUiam Stanley's)
manuscripts. I think it was Mr Greenstreet who
discovered a great deal more evidence in detail ; but
one asks, how can it be that the Derby family would
not gladly claim such a distinguished ancestor.'' A
Lord Derby has, however, declined the throne of
Greece, preferring Knowsley to the Parthenon and
Lancashire to the Attic plains.
Nevertheless, one must conclude that could it have
been proved, it would have been, that William
Shakespeare was William Stanley. Sir Edwin
Durning-Lawrence boldly asserts that Bacon is
Shakespeare, and many an hour at his house have
I heard him explain this theory, which, through Sir
Edwin's tenacity and research, has at last risen to
the point of becoming admittedly debatable. It is
worthy of note that Sir Toby Matthew, who was
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 253
Bacon's alter ego for thirty years, never alluded to
Shakespeare.
Then there was Roger, Earl of Rutland, the Bard
of Belvoir, a fellow-student with Rosencrantz. He
was fixed upon as the author of Shakespeare's works,
on the slender grounds that during the time he was
in prison no new Shakespearian drama appeared!
But what terrible consequences a real discovery
would entail. Think of the Shakespeare Memorial
National Theatre having to change its name after
the trouble spent in fixing it, for, at the Mansion
House meeting about half a dozen different titles
were proposed, and although the National Theatre
section was keenly supported by an anonymous gift
of ;^ 70,000, it was my proposal that was carried
by a small majority, and " Shakespeare Memorial
National Theatre " became the title. In all the
other amendments National Theatre came first. I
gave a lecture, " Shakespeare's Influence on Lan-
guage," but it was an awful undertaking of in-
finite labour and pains. Ribald friends used to send
messages of kind inquiry, so I had to aflix a notice
on my door to the effect that Mr Munday and his
literary effort were progressing as well as could be
expected. Then came this kind invitation from the
treasurer. Lord Avebury, dated 6th May, 1910:
" Dear Mr Munday, — I hope you will become one
of our lecturers." I feh flattered, and as I had been
a member of the original committee of the world's
tribute to Shakespeare (proposed by Lord Ronald
Gower, and seconded by W. L. Courteney), I
accepted Lord Avebury's subsequent invitation.
It seems strange that whereas the Hebrew Testa-
ment contains only 5642 different words, and
254 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
Milton's works only 8000, this immortal bard, who-
ever he was in the flesh, should have used no less
than 15,000 different words in his works. As is
common with genius, he knew no father nor son.
Shakespeare and Bacon left no male descendant.
Neither did Chaucer, Spenser, Milton, Dryden,
Pope, Cowper, Goldsmith, Byron, or Moore.
Neither did Sir Philip Sydney nor Sir Walter Raleigh.
No issue of male descent marks the line of Drake,
Cromwell, Hampden, Marlborough, or Nelson, nor
Burke, Gratton, Canning, or Disraeli. There is
not one of Newton, Locke, or Davy ; not one of
Hume, Gibbon, or Macaulay ; not one of Hogarth,
Sir Joshua Reynolds, or Sir Thomas Lawrence ; not
one of David Garrick, John Kemble, or Edmund
Kean.
Shakespeare's genius was both a source and an
end, the very intuition of truth. Journeying with
him in illusion and ideality, we rest in happiness and
reality. He speaks to the imagination rather than
to the senses. His theme of love is a compact with
sorrow; his many words seem to mock at silence
as the concealment of what one does not know,
the wit of fools. His knowledge of the heart has
reasons that reason does not understand. Our
admiration becomes a tradition and our criticism a
caprice.
To return to the two organisations: some of "the
committee of the world's tribute to Shakespeare
merged with the committee of the National Theatre
scheme; some declined,. because they did not think
Shakespeare should or could be fully represented by
attachment to any section of English thought and
feeling.
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 265
Shakespeare's special lesson was the portrayal of
human affairs, and although great actresses have lent
the imagery and the passing charm of their indivi-
duality to the interpretation of music as of poetry,
they did not " create " Rosalind, Juliet, Ophelia,
Portia, Desdemona, Lady Macbeth, or any other
of his heroines. These parts were first " created "
by boys whose voices were preserved by the doctor
or whose acting was enforced by the birch. There
were no actresses in Shakespeare's time. True, a
great reader or elocutionist helps one to understand
the Bible — as a great actor helps one to understand
our greatest English writings, dramatic or otherwise
. . . but the spiritual message in both cases should
stand clear of its exponents in art.
CHAPTER XVII
My Swan Song — The Manor House Club — Egomania— The Joys
of a Recluse — Goose Green — Boys and Animals — My Fare-
well—" Much Adieu about Nothing."
My aloe tree or swan song is the Manor House
Club, for which I was engaged as temporary
organising Secretary and Chairman — the Club
is too young to be fully described, being not
yet twelve months old — may it prosper. It has
a really wonderful list of members, and flies high
in more senses than one — art, literature, golf, cro-
quet, tennis, archery, fishing, boating, shooting,
swimming, with scientific agriculture and horticul-
ture all beginning to blossom. I would place on
record this: that ours was the first club to afford
flying facilities in detailed accommodation, and with
drilled attendants for the use of officers and the
comfort of pilots from the various army aviation
grounds. The War Office received the proposal,
and the Army Council met and invited me to lay
it before them. Brigadier-General F. Rainsford-
Hannay, Director of Fortifications, Colonel Sir E.
W. Ward, Secretary of the War Office, Major-
General Sir C. F. Hadden, Master-General of the
Ordnance and old Lyric member, and Colonel Sir
A. Bannerman of the Army Air Battalion helped
matters along, and Lord Haldane finally allowed our
Club to issue the following notice : " The flying
256
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 257
arrangements are made with the concurrence and
approval of the Army Council." But the first year
of the army aviation was beset with difficulties. At
a time when France possessed two hundred, Ger-
many one hundred, and Russia three hundred aero-
planes. Great Britain was groping with ten — whose
utility, judging by the martyrdom of the pilots, it
almost seems would have been most effectively
applied by presenting the Air Battalion to the enemy
— but nothing could have been kinder or more
courteous than the relations established between the
War Office and the Manor House Club. Perhaps
the pleasantest augury to chronicle in this book is the
consent of H.R.H. Princess Christian to become
Patron of the Club — a gracious recognition of the
owners and founders — two ladies — of whose philan-
thropic work in many directions no one could write
too much or too earnestly.
I have met and talked with the following, who
have all gone hence : Tom Taylor, Westland Mar-
ston, Matthew Arnold, J. S. Delane, Mark Patteson,
N. Oliphant, W. Allingham, Adelaide A. Proctor,
Erasmus Wilson, L. Stephen, Sir Theodore Martin,
J. A. Froude, Thomas Woolner, A. H. Haig (the
etcher), John Pettie, Philip Calderon, Jean Ingelow
— but many of them are forgotten, for " the dead die
quick." I met a young lady to-day who had never
heard of Henry Irving, though she adored H. B. and
Laurence Irving. The man of the age is now the
man of the hour. Everything passes so quickly;
even misery fails in its full effect. And now
must these chronicles close quickly. Sherard
writes of a pauper found drowned who left this
written message : " There is no freedom like a
R
258 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
waif's. I am honestly enjoying my last hours with
a pencil and some grey packing-paper — I'm writing
my memoirs."
What curious turns egomania takes — pursuit of
wealth and fame, anything except one thing, and
that most easy, yet most difficult to acquire, a sense
of rest. It seems easy to get, because a cabbage gets
it ; difficult, because to the man of the world it means
the aftermath of life. The recluse is only happy
if he has seen everything and known everybody; if
he is asked everywhere and goes nowhere. He is
no cynic at heart, though he likes to appear one on
the surface. He has lived long enough to under-
stand the real joy and childlike appreciation of
nature's pleasures that are free. He need not
hanker vainly after locusts and wild honey in a
wilderness if he lives in English country, where his
animals put more soul into a gaze than half the
parish can express in words.
If he has revelled in the flaunting luxuriance of
the East, or tasted to the full the life of London-on-
Thames, he takes the joy of EngHsh country life
for granted and knows it is a thing of peace.
Personally, I love the importance that little things
assume in the country. A caterpillar on a seedling
affects my temperamental barometer.
I watch just now, with wild excitement, a London
waif (one of the doubtful blessings we plant on the
village by the score each year) ; he is carrying water
to a brood of rather elderly ducklings who are dis-
porting themselves (apparently without parental
sujjervision) upside-down in a mud pond. The pond
is overflowing, and it is raining in torrents ; so I sug-
gest it is waste of labour, whereupon I see him, full of
CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS 259
good intention, rushing towards me with eleven eggs.
He says he must hurry back as the hen is still laying
— one of the eggs is china. I gave the boy sixpence,
which he, sobbing, returned, asking me to make it
a penny, as he could keep a penny — but sixpence
he would feel bound to give to his mother.
A field is set apart near by for overworked horses
to end their days in doubtful joy. They seem to
long for work, and neigh and trot about, quite
bored with continued rest. We found one dead in
a shed. He had walked round and round of his own
free will ; this we knew by the deeply rutted circle.
It transpired he had worked his latter years turning
and churning in a limekiln. I suppose he thought
he had to pay for his rest, and as no one was there
to stop him, he went on till he died, thence to the
land of carrots and sugar to join our beloved pets.
The devil is reputed to be a busy person, but he
seems a little idle on our goose green. Nothing
very much happens there. The usual inexpressible
satisfaction of little desires is attained by numer-
able little councils, which bind everybody together
in antipathy and petty rivalries — but nothing more
disturbing than the tranquillity of virtue or the noise
of idleness prevails.
Although the old order is rapidly changing, the
country remains the same, solace incomparable.
There may be times when one frets like the moth
or smoulders like the hidden flame that burns with-
out illuminating. In other words, it is possible at
times to be bored — times when one is inclined to
think oneself so much wickeder than one is — when
one tries to throw off experiences like the black
missionary his clothing, and to answer to some call
260 CHRONICLE OF FRIENDSHIPS
or other, perhaps to the gutter call; there to trans-
form again the smug peacefulness of present content
to the battle and strife of early circumstance with all
its muddy surroundings.
Few weapons are more formidable against one
than one's own reminiscences. There are thrusts
in them which one cannot parry — false notes creep
in. Still our little memories, chronicHng friendships
and fellowships, count in life. They sum up the
hey-day of a first meeting and the murmur of a last
good-bye. Love and friendship are the prizes most
worth entering for, but Death alone can designate
each one's handicap, and no one knows till the race
is over how much or how little he can carry. And
so, in all good fellowship, I close my first Chronicle
of Friendships.
'''^c
Names are the beads of Memory's Rosary. I have had
these autographs facsimiled from Mr Munday's collection
of letters because they connect the past with the present.
They are all stars in the firmament of Art, and have all
taken part without money and without price in a thou-
sand hours of Play and Song — memorable social gather-
ings initiated and managed by Mr Munday to whom I
present this Farewell Tribute from the Green Park Club,
headed by its Royal members. These, together with
the Lyric records', and seventy-six entertainments
organised in an honorary capacity for charities, complete
the five hundred concerts and plays given by him during
the past twenty years.
Constance, Countess of Romney,
1907.
/n/litfL^'
°$%f"r
^^^^i-
?>
ss^^i
*^
^A
/■
■'5?;,
'i
INDEX
*»* "^^i^ Index does not include some lOO facsimile autographs of artist
friends printed on the previous pages
Abergavenny, Marquis of,
149
Aidg Hamilton, 52, 56, 59, 67,
106, 121
Ailesbury, Henry, sth Mar-
quis of, 76, Q3, IQ9
Albanesi, Signer and Madame,
Q7
Albanez, Sefior, 122
Albani, Madame, 69
Albany, H.R.H. Duchess of,
140
Alderson, Ralph, 141
Alexander, George, 93, 121,
136, 221, 232
Alexandra R. and I., 236
Allan, Maud, 204
Allingham, W., 257
AUitsen, Miss Frances, 228
Althorp, Lord, 140
Arabi, Pasha, 46, 47
Arbos, Seiior, 122
Arditi, Signor, 229
Argyll, Duke of, 3
Aria, Mrs, 122
Arkwright, Mrs, 226
Armbruster, Carl, 123
Arnold, Matthew, 257
Ashton, George, 132
Astley, Sir John (The Mate),
123, 148
Austen, Alfred (Poet Laureate),
241
Avebury, Lord (Sir John
Lubbock), 58, 114, 253
Bainbridge, Captn. R. N.,
208
Baldi, Mile (Lady Tosti), 150
Ball, Sir Robert, 196. _
Bancroft, Lady (Marie Wil-
ton), 241
Bancroft, Sir Squire, 75, 95
Bannerman, Col. Sir Alexan-
der, Bart., 256
Barlow, Major, 82
Barnby, Sir Joseph, 22, 75,
93. 152
Barnum, P. T., 208
Barrett, Wilson, 200
Barrie, J. M., 183
Barrington, Rutland, 93, T50
Barter, Major, 102
Batten, Mrs George, 226
Battenberg, Prince and Prin-
cess Henry of, 129
Battersea, Lord, 162
Bayard (U.S. Minister), Mr
and Mrs, 196
Beardsley, Aubrey, 157
Beaufort, Duke of, 184
Bective, Lady, 163
Beerbohm, Max, 97, 206, 207,
243
Belcher, George, 162
Bemberg, Hermann, 140
Bendall, Ernest, 142, 183
Bendall, Wilfrid, 229
Benson, Mr and Mrs F. H.,
176
Berenson, G., 157
Beresford, Lord Chas., 76
Bernhardt, Sarah, 57, 121,
123, 134
Besant, Major, 102
Bethune, C. C, 53, 68
Bevignani, Signor, 229
Bispham, David, 55, 168
Black, Col. and Miss, 169
Blomfield, Sir Arthur and
Lady, 241
Blood, General Sir Bindon
and Lady, 92, 162, 206
Blume, Alfred, 53
Bosanquet, R. A., 33
Boulton, Harold, 68, 70
265
266
INDEX
Boughton, George, R.A., and
Mrs, 230
Boyd, Archdeacon, 35
Braddon, Miss (Mrs Maxwell),
92, gs, 241
Brandram, Rosma, 123
Brett, Hon. Sylvia (Ranee
Muda), 182
Bridge, Sir C, 75
Brittain, Harry, 120
Brooke, Bertram, 182
Brooke, Harry, 182
Brooke, Lady (Ranee of Sara-
wak), 141, 146
Brookfield, Charles, 142, 183
Brough, Fanny, 163
Brough, Lionel, 13, 135, 136,
200
Browne, Lennox, 123
Browning, Oscar, 236
Browning, Robert, 153, 154,
155. 156
Brownrigg, Sir Henry and
Lady, 148
Bruce, Edgar, 122
Bruce, Lord Henry, 239
Buffalo Bill (Col. Cody), 135
Bunning, Herbert, 229
Burnand, Sir F.C., 136,158
Burne-Jones, Sir Philip, Bart.,
207
Burns, John, M.P., 224.
Butler, Frank Hedges, 137
Butt, Alfred, 14, 228
Caine, Hall, 98
Caldbeck, Captn. Roper, 226
Caldecott, Alfred, 122
Calderon, Philip, 257
Cambridge, Duke of, 2, 80, 186
Campbell, Mrs Patrick, 157,
163
Carnegie, Hon. Douglas, 122
Carr, Comyns, 106, 122, 139
Carte, D'Oyley, 228
Caryll, Ivan, 122, 136, 229
Cawston, George, 103
Cayley, Sir R., 27
Cecil, Arthur, 200
Cellier, Alfred, 122, 136, 229
Chamberlain, Joseph, 102
Chambers, Haddon, 202
Chapman, Rev. Hugh, 242
Chesebrough, Col. and Mrs,
169
Chevalier, Albert, 53
Christian, H.R.H. Princess,
2, 140, 215, 257
Church, Dean, 247
Churchill, Lady Edward Spen-
cer, 215
Churchill, Lord Edward Spen-
cer, 76, 93, 239
Churchill, Lord Randolph, 76
Churchill, Winston, 162, 163
Clancarty, Countess of, i85
Clare, Tom, 176
Clarence, Duke of, 32
Clay, Cecil, 80, 106
Clayton, Col. Sir Fitzroy and
Lady Isabel, 169, 199
Clement, Major, 87, 169
Coffin, C. Haydn, 68
Cole, Wentworth, 118, 208
Coleridge, Hon. Gilbert, 104
Coleridge, Hon. Stephen, 104
Coleridge, Lord, 104
Collier, Admiral Sir Francis,
26
Collier, Admiral Sir Geo., 26
Collier, Col. and Mrs, 52
Collins, Lottie, 204
Colnaghi, C, 226
Colvin, Sir Sydney, 230
Conolly, Tom, 82
Cook, E. T., 23, 151
Coquelin, 121, 163, 171
Corelli, Marie, 92, 241
Cornwallis West, Mrs, 58
Courteney, W. L., 253
Courthope, W. F., 17, 45
Coward, Lewis, K.C., 4
Cowie, Dean, 10, 17
Crawford, Marion, 98
Crawford, Oswald, 94
Creighton, Dr (Bishop of
London), 220
Cropper, Mrs Thornburgh, 68
Cust, Lionel, 157
Cutler, Cecil, 24
Dacre, Arthur and Amy
ROSELLE, 123
Daly, Augustin, 175
"Danby, Frank," 97
Darnley, Lord (Ivo Bligh), 79
Daudet, 145, 146
Davey, Richard, 246
Davies, Ben, 52
De Bathe, Lady, 187
De Costa_, Mario, 153
De Crespigny, Sir Claude C,
d':^e
;gville, Louifs and Miss,
227
De Koven, Reginald, 228
INDEX
267
De Lara, Isodore, 68, 153
De Lisle and Dudley, Lord,
76, 239
D'Orsay, Count, 24, iq8
De Soria, M., 68
De Wet, Sir Jacobus, 37
De Windt, Harry, 102
Delane, Mr J. S., i6o, 257
Del Riego, Miss, 228
Denison, Admiral the Hon.
A., 76, 239
Denison, Lady Lilian, 1.23
Denison, Lady Mildred, 123
Denza, Luigi and Madame,
229
Derby, Lord, 252
Desborough, Lord, 87
Dick, Cotsford, 122, 228
Dickens, Edmund, 168
Dilke, Sir Charles, 209
Dolgorouki, Princess Alexis,
58
Dorchester, Lord and Lady,
93. 230
Douglas, James, 204
Du Maurier, George (Punch),
142, 152
Du Maurier, Gerald, 141
Dunlop, Admiral, 168
Dunmore, Lord, 102
Durning-Lawrence, Sir Edwin,
Bart., and Lady, 252
Duse, Eleanora, 57, 134, 136,
251
ECKNILIGODA, 47
Edinburgh, H.R.H. Duke of,
2, 208
Edward R. and L, 58, 137
Edwardes, George and Mrs,
175, 176
Edwards, Sir Fleetwood, 132,
237
Egerton Castle, Mr and Mrs,
97
Ellicott, Mrs and Miss, 226
English, Col. R. E., 26
English, General, C.B., 26
English, Mabel (Mrs Munday),
25
Evan Thomas, Captain, R.N.,
48
Evans, A. B., D.D., 18
Ewing, Juliana Horatia, 95
Ewing, Major, 35, 95; 181
Fairfield, Edward, C.B.,
83, 172, 184
Farren, Nellie, 118
ffrench, Percy, 102
Fiori, E., S3
Flower, Sir E., 68, 70
Forbes Robertson, Mr and
Mrs, 121, 163
Ford, Ernest, 122, 229
Fortescue, Miss, 122
Frankau, Mrs, 97
French, Samuel, 122
Frith, Walter, 122
Froude, J. A., 257
Furness, Harry, 228
Garcia, Manuel, 53
Garnett, Sir R., 96
Gatti, Carlo, 12
Gen6e, Adeline, 204
George R. and I., 32, 163,
196
German, Edward, 52
Germany, H.LM. Emperor
Frederick of, 213
Germany, H.I.H. Empress
Frederick of, 70
Germany, H.LM. William,
Emperor of, 102, 162
Giddens, George, 200
Gilbert, Alfred, R.A., 169
Gilbert, Sir W. S., 120, 136,
177, 207, 229
Gladstone, W. E., 18, 100,
105, 184, 209
Gleichen, Count, 252
Gleichen, Countess Feodora,
167
Gleichen, Countess Valda, 226
Glentworth, Lord, 226
Glynn, Miss (Mrs Dallas), 53,
95, 116
Godfrey Pearse, Mr and Mrs,
119
Goldsmid, Col., 240
Goldsmid, Sir Julian, Bart.,
93
Gordon Cummmg, J., 44
Gordon, General, 50
Gordon, Hon. George, 167
Gordon, Sir Arthur (Lord
Stanmore), 32
Gotto, Basil, 168
Gouraud, Col. (Sahara King),
85
Gower, Lord Ronald Suther-
land, 146, 167, 253
Grace, W. G., 79
Grain, Corney, 71, 176, 227
Greene, H. Plunkett, 163, 225
268
INDEX
Greet, William, 123
Gregory, Lady, 38
Gretton, John, 136
Greville, Lord and Lady, 123
Grierson, Gen. Sir James, 240
GrifSn, Lady, 226
Grisi and Mario, 119
Grossmith (late), George, 93,
123. 179. 200, 227
Gully, Mr Speaker, 75, 90,
92
Guthrie, T., 197
Hadden, Genl. Sir Chas.,
240, 256
Haggard, Col. Andrew, 102,
211, 246
Haggard, Sir Rider, 211
Haggard, Sir William, 44
Haig, George Ogilvie, 136
Haines, Field Marshall Sir
Paul, 239
Haldane, Lord, 256
Hampton, Lord, 66
Hanbury, Miss Lily, 123, 168
Hanney, F. Rainsford — Brigr.-
Genl., 256
Hanson, Sir Reginald, 83
Harbord, Lady Eleanor, 226
Hardie, Keir, 163
Hardy, Thomas, 228
Hare, Augustus, 148
Hare, Sir John, 163
Harris, Sir Augustus (" Druri-
olanus"), 75, 83, 93> 95, 127,
159
Hatton, Joseph, 122
Hawke, Lord, 76
Headfort, Marquis of, 162
Hedgecock, Walter, 229
Hemans, Col., 240
Herkomer, Hermann and Mrs,
163, 206, 226, 241
Herring, George, 225
Hervey, Arthur, 228
Hicks, Seymour, 123
Hill, Lady Arthur, 226, 228
Hill, Lord Arthur, 93
Hills, Sir Arnold F., 72
Hogg, Quinton, 46
Hohenlohe, H.S.H. Prince
Victor of, 167
Holland, Canon, 64
Holland, Caroline, 52, 64-67,
1 50-1
Holland, Hon. Sydney, 201
Hollingshead, John, 120
Holmann, Josef, 164
Horan, Mr and Mrs, 169
Howard, Hon. Kenneth, 198,
199
Howe, Lord, 26
Huddlestone, Lady Diana,
106, 247
Hutchinson, Gen. (Cooty), 239
Hutton, Captain, 239
Huxley, Professor, 247
iLLiNGTON, Marie, 141
Ingelow, Jean, 257
Irving, Ethel, 141, 203
Irving, H. B., 257
Irving, Laurence, 257
Irving, Sir Henry, 57, 75, 93,
116, 117, 121, 171, 181, 232
James, Henry, 98
Janotha, 222
Jeffreys, Ellis, 122
Jerningham, Charles (Marma-
duke), 172, 209
Jerningham, Sir Hubert, 161,
172
Jerome, Jerome K., 136
Jessup, A. E., 102, 212
Jocelyn, Major, 240
Jones, Henry Arthur, 158
Jones, Henry (Cavendish), 80
Keble, 247
Kellie, Lawrence, 52, 53, 150,
228, 232
Kendal, Madge (Mrs W. H.
Grimston), 57, 92
Keogh, General, 239
Ker Grey, Rev., 220
Ker, Lord Charles, 195
Kettlewell, Mr and Mrs, 122
Kingston, Gertrude, 122
Kipling, Rudyard, 98, 103, 156
Kirk, Sir John (Africa), 199
Kitchener, Lord, 47, 95, 211,
228
Knight, Joseph, 122
Knowles, Sir James, 161
Knutsford, Lord, 64
LABOUCHfcRE, Henry, 13, 46,
90, 97, 209, 210
Labouchfere, Miss Dora (Mar-
chesa di Rudini), 172
Labouchfere, Mrs (Henrietta
Hodson), 172
Lacey, Walter, S3
Lambert, Frank, 150, 163, 229
Langley, Col., 240
INDEX
269
Langtry, Mrs, 82, 171
Le Gallienne, J., 156
Leighton, Lord, 134, 241
Lethbridge (late). Sir Wroth,
148
Lewis, Eric, 123
Lewis, Sam, 225
Lewis, Sir George, 105
Liddon, Canon, 10
Liddell, Dean and Mrs, 1Q5,
iq6, IQ7
Liddell, Lady Eleanor, ig8
Limerick, Countess of, 226
Lindsay, Lady Jane, 122
Lipton, Sir Thomas, 12, 29
Liszt, Abbe, 52, 154
Lodge, Sir Oliver, 146
Loftus, Mr and Mrs Augustus,
102, 141
Londesborough, Countess of,
200.
Londesborough (Edith), Coun-
tess of, 52, 85, 92, 241
Londesborough, Lord, 52, 76,
78, 85, 93, 241
Longden, Sir James, 32
Lowther, Miss, 239
Lyall, Sir Alfred, 179
Lyons, Sir Joseph, 12
M'Carthy, Justin H., 123,
156
Macdonald, Sir Claude, 112
MacFarren, Sir G., 52
MacKenzie, Sir Morell, 75,
213
MacKinnon, Gen. Sir W., 75,
122, 13s
MacLaughlan, Major, 240
MacMahon, Maijor, F.R.S.,
R.A., 168
Mackay, Clarence, 225
Mackay, Mrs, 225
Mackenzie, Sir A. C, 75
Macleay, Col., 167
Macleay, Sinclair, 73, 76
Macleay, Sir George and
Lady, 123
Macleod, General, 30
Madamanweliya, 44
Maeterlinck, Maurice, 123,
147, 183, 184
Maitland, Sir James, Bart.,
103
Mallock, W. H., 156
Manning, Cardinal, 247
Marchesi, 53
Marlborough, Duke of, 164
Marshall, Captain, 158
Marston, Westland, 257
Martin, Bob, 226, 229
Martin, Mr and Mrs Pitney,
QS
Martin, Sir Theodore, 257
Mascagni, 202
Massenet, M., 163, 228
"Mathers, Helen," 97
Matthew, Archbishop, 169
Maude, Cyril, 122, 163, 200,
224
Maude, Mrs (Winefred
Emery), 122, 244
Maxwell, William B., 95
May, Phil, 162, 214, 228
Melba, 164, 216, 224
Menkins, Ada, 16
Meredith, George, 146, 153,
156, 163
Messager, M., 225
Meyers, Frederick W. H., 146,
147
Meyers, Leopold, 141
Meyers, Mrs (Miss E. Ten-
nant), 146, 151
Millais, Sir John, Bart., 76;
151, 184
Milward, Jessie, 18
Mocatta, Cecil, 169
Monaco, Princess of, 242
Monckton, Lady, 123
Monckton, Lionel, 123
Moncrieff, Mrs Lynedoch, 226,
229
Monkhouse, Harry, 122
Moore, Augustus, 170
Morrison, Charles, 4
Mortimer, Menpes, 170
Morton (Father of music
halls), 228
Mounteney-Jephsfin, A. J.,
103, 168
Munday, Anthony, i
Munday, Mrs, 24
Murdoch, C. S., C.B., 69,
83
Napier, Sir Archibald,
Bart., 168
Needham, Col. the Hon. C,
115
Neillson, Christine, 181
Neilson, JuFia, (Mrs F. Terry),
52, 224
Nelson, ist Lord, 30
Nevill, Lady Dorothy, 106,
123, 199
270
INDEX
Nevill, Miss M., 123
Neville, Henry, 135
Newman, Cardinal, 247
NichoUs, Agnes, 55
Nicholson, George and the
Hon. Evie, 242
Nicholson, Reginald, 120
Nisbet, J. E., 122
Norman, Field Marshall Sir
Henry, 42
NorreyS] Genii Rose, 201
O. U. B. C, 156
O'Brien, Sir Timothy, Bart.,
79, 226
O'Connor, T. P., M.P., 97,
163, 201
Oliphant, N., 257
Otway, Col., 240
Oudin, Eugene, 68
Ouida (Louisa de la Ramee),
158
Ouseley, Sir Fred. G., Bart., 22
Paderewski, 164, 225
Palmer, Sir Walter and Lady,
153
Pape, E. J., 83
Parker, Sir Gilbert, Bart., 161
Patteson, Mark, 257
Patti, Adelina, 92, 224
Peel, Sir Robert, Bart., 160
Peile, Kinsey, 226
Pelligrini, Carlo (" Ape "),
Pemberton, Edgar, 120
Penley, W. S., 227
Pettie, John, R.A., 257
Phelps, 181
Philips, Sir Claude, 157
Philips, Stephen, 178
Piggott, Sir J., 69, 142, 183
Pinero, Sir Arthur Wing, 92,
178, 241.
Pitman, Sir Isaac, 3
Playfair, General, 239
Plowden, A. Chichele, 163
Ponsonby, Claude, M.P., 226
Ponsonby Fane, Hon. C., 69
Ponsonby, Sir Henry, Bart.,
70, 129, 131
Potter, Paul, 142
Power, Sir George, Bart., 73,
97, 208
Pownall, Frank, 226
Proctor, Adelaide Ann, 257
QUEENSBURY, MARQUIS OF,
195
Quilter, Mr, 229
Rackham, Rev. R. 3., 205-6
Radnor, Helen, Countess of,
225
Raincliflfe, Lord, 123
Randeggar, Alberto, 53, 228
Raymond, Rev. (Vicar of
Bray), 169
Redford, G. A., 140, 183
Reeves, Sims, 216, 227
Rhodes, Cecil, 103
Ricarde-Seaver, Col., 240
Ricardo, Col. F. C, 226
Richards, H. C., K.C., 24
Richmond, Sir Wm., Bart.,
R.A., 171
Richter, 123
Ristori, Madame, 134
Ritchie, Clement, 83, 93, 123
Rivere, Jules, 121
Roberts, Arthur, 53, 227
Roberts, Lord, 152, 195
Robertson, Jack, 68, 123
Rodin, 163
Romney, Constance, Countess
of, 215, 232, 233
Ronald, Landon, 229
Ronalds, Mrs, 208
Roosevelt, 45
Rosa, Mr and Mrs Carl, 123,
229
Rowton, Lord (Monty Corry),
207
Royds, Edmund, M.P., 226
Rumford, Kennerly, 163, 225
Ruskin, 23, 145, 151-2
Russell, Lilian, 213
Russell of Killowen, Lord, 106
Rutland, Duke of, 92
Salamon, Malcolm, 123
Salisbury, Lord, 18
Salting, Mr, 106
Salting, Mrs George, 106
Sanders, Lady Virginia, 162
Sanderson, Sybil, 208
Sandow, Eugene, 81, 102, 152,
243 . ^
Santley, Sir C, 53, 75
Sarawak, H.H. the Ranee of,
141, 146, 163, 182
Sarawak, Raja Muda of, 182
Schleswig Holstein, Princess
Louise of, 215
INDEX
271
Schleswig Holstein, Princess
Victoria of, 215
Scott, Clement, 120, 175, 203
Scott-Gatty, Sir Alfred (Garter
King) and Lady, 67, 69, 75,
146, 156, 181
Sears, Joseph Hamblin, 251
Selby, Lord, 75, 90
Selous, F. C., 102, 195
"Sem," 163
Shaftesbury, Earl of, 93
Shakespeare, W., 53
Shaw, G. Bernard, 184, 202
Shaw, Sir Eyre, 6
Siam, H.M. King of, 196
Sims, George R., 136
Skrine, Duncan, 35
Smalley, W. G., 196
Smith, Sir Charles Euan, 238
Smythe, Ethel, Mus. Doc,
188
Solomon, Edward, 212, 213
Solomon, Solomon J., R.A.,
171
Somers-Cocks, P. A., 227
Spottiswoode, Cyril, 227
Spottiswoode, W. H., 227
St John, Florence, 220
St Leonards, Lady, 123
Stainer, Sir John, 21, 75, 93,
228, 232
Stanley, Hon. Arthur, 141
Stanley, Lady, 99, 103, 151
Stanley, Sir H. M., G.C.B.,
99, 103, 184
Stephen, Leslie, 257
Stephenson, B. C, 136
Stepniak, 1 50
Stoddart (Surveyor General of
Ceylon), 43
Stoker, Bram, 199
Strafford, Lord, 129, 237
Streatfield, Col., 199
SufHeld, Lord, 93
Sullivan, Sir Arthur, 75, 93;
120, 136, 208, 213, 227, 228,
229, 232
Sylvestre, Armand, 121, 123
Tadema, Sir Lawrence
Alma, 134
Tankerville, Earl of, 169
Taylor, Tom, 257
Teck, H.S.H. Prince Alexan-
der of, 2, 58, 163, 196
Tempest, Marie, 52, 53, 122
Temple, Hope (Mme Mes-
sager), 151, 225, 228
Tennant, Miss Dorothy (Lady
Stanley), 99, 103
Tennant, Miss Margot (Mrs
Asguith), 200
Terfiss, William, i8, 179,
180, 184, 197
Terry, Edward, 123
Terry, Ellen, 57, 117, 121,
122, 152, 179, 182
Terry, Fred, 224
Thaddeus, H. J., 122
Thesiger, Hon. E., 226
Thomas, Arthur Goring, 52,
136, 150
Thompson, Sir Henry (Pen
Oliver), 157
Thorndike, Herbert, 68
Thornton, " Buns," 79
Thynne, Lord Henry, 93, 123,
148
Toole, J. L., 71, 122, 181,
200
Tosti, Sir Paolo, 75, 114, 229
Toynbee, Arnold, 154
Toynbee, Mrs, 123, 154
Toynbee, William, 123
Tree, Sir Herbert Beerbohm
and Lady, 75, 93, 106, 116,
123, 125, 131. 132, 163, 171,
177. i97> 202, 206, 221
Tree, Viola, 128
Tristram, Outram, 127
Tupper, Sir J., 69, 142
Ulmar, Geraldine, 122, 136
Ulster, King of Arms (Captn.
Wilkinson), 162, 167
Upton, Fred, 123, 200
Van Beers, Jan, 164
Vanderbilt, Mr, 151
Vaughan, Kate, 204
Vavasour, Sir Henry and
Lady, 4, 74, 169
Vezin, Hermann, 180
Victoria R. and I., 2, 68, 118,
129, 130, 151, 208, 215, 239,
259
Villiers, Rev. Prebendary, 220
Vinci, Count, 226
Vine, Sir Somers, 137
WADE, G., 168
Wagner, Richard, 22, 53, 123
Walker, J. G., 70
Walkes, Mr and Mrs, 226
Waller, Lewis, 176, 179
Wantage, Lady, 122
272
INDEX
Ward, Col. Sir E. W., 12,
256
Ward, Genevieve, 141, 181
Ward, Leslie ("Spy"), 152,
163
Warrender, Lady Maud, 226
Watson, General, 168, 239
Watson, Malcolm, 122
Wedderburn, A., 151
Wellington, Evelyn, Duchess
of, 68
West, Col. Cornwallis, 210
Westbury (Florence) Lady,
122, 215
Whistler, James, 96, 98, 164,
170
Whitaker, Mrs, 58
White, Maude Valferie, 151,
228
Wilde, Lady, 95
Wilde, Oscar, 95, 96, 98, 156,
183
Wilde, Willie, 95, 97
Wilder, Marshall, 68, 200
Wilkinson, Captn., 162, 167
Williamson, Mrs C. N., 97
Wilson, Erasmus, 257
Windham, Right Hon. G., 147
Wolseley, Lord, 47, 239
Wood, Derwent, A.R.A., 168,
170
Wood, J. S., 97
Wood, Mrs John, 200
Wood, Sir Evelyn F. M., 211
Woolner, Thomas, 257
Wortham, General Hale, 213
Wright, George Smith, 122
Wrottesley, Lord, 169, 239
Wrottesley, the Hon. Evelyn,
123
Wyndham, Sir Charles, 75,
92, 93, 116, 138-9, 177
Yardly, William, 123
Yates, Edmund, 97, 120, 172
Yelverton (Teresa) Countess
of, 29
Yohe, May (Lady Frances
Hope), 137
Yorke, Hon. Alec, 146
Young, Harriet, 122
Ysaye, 225
Zangwill, I., 153, 159
Zeitlin, J., 168
Zola, Emile, 146
Zola, Madame, 159
THB NORTHUMBERLAND PRESS, THORNTON STREET, NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE
Live Music
Archive
Librivox
Free Audio
Metropolitan Museum
Cleveland
Museum of Art
Internet
Arcade
Console Living Room
Open Library
American
Libraries
TV News
Understanding
9/11