The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, November 03, 1886, Image 1
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BY HUGH WILSON. ABBEVILLE, S. C;; WEDNESDAY.! NOVEMBER 3, 1886; VOLUME XXXI. NO. 18.'
IN SOUTHERN IRELAND.
A LOOK AT CORK AND ITS IRISH
CHARACTERISTICS.
t*n<l<ly aa He In at Honie?Thfc Sbftis
tlic Saloons and the Feasants' House*.
? IIIr Estates and Toor PcopIc?Jauntlng
V Cars, Beggars, Ete.> Kte.
HL- {Special Corrcspoftdo'fttp.J
^ Dublin, Sept. 4.?Landing at Queenstown,
I came at once to Cork, the third city of Ireland,
and the capital of tho south. It is
% beautifully situated on the hanks of the Leo,
tond it is surrounded by a country rich and
rolling. My guide book proudly says it has
increased 4,000 in the last ten years, and it
lias now a population of 104,000 people. Tho
Btreets of Cork are as irregular as those of
Uoston, but they are wider and better paved.
Y iSfc. Patrick's street, which is tho chief one,
nas sonil? JIIH" SW?I l-J, U1IU\ IVUIIUU v.iuuj, IV
seems to be prosperous. The city 5s a great
shipping port, and all tbo cattle, sheep and
agricultural products of south Ireland are
sent from here to England. Ireland raises
tho best meat in tho world* though sho Is too
poor to cat it, and I saw sheep, cows and
liorses by the hundreds driven through tho
streets in front of ray hotel, on their way to
the boats. Cork uutter is advertised all
tliroogh Engiand and in tho other Irish
cities, and tho tweed mills at Blarney, near
Cork, make some of the best cloth made in
the kingdom. This tweed outwears the
JScotch make, and it is very /cheap here. A
good suit of clothes, made to order, can bo
got for from ?12 to $1">, and I have seen ad^
vertisemenfcs in the tailors' windows offering
good goods as low as $10 per suit
There is little brick used here in building,
and tin? Cork business blocks lack the architectural
beauties of an American street of tho
same sized city. Stono and stucco seem to
prevail in building materials, and everything
is massive and somber. The smaller houses
of the city, or the dwellings of the laboriug
classes, are low one or two-story houses, containing
from one to four rooms, and having
no ornamentation whatever. These are built
in long blocks, and the better ones of thorn
are coated with whitewash. The houses stand
clost to the sti-eet, without gardens, and in i
the snhnrlis the chickens and geese and such |
oHier animal; as the owner.may he fortunate i
enough to own share the lints. The outside
of these houses are rarely clean. They have |
iff r.o yards and the floors are oftener of dirt
than of atone or wood.
AS IRIsn CADIX.
There aro many good stoi cs in Cork, but.
few like the American ones yon would find in
a city of 1U0,(XK). Their- storerooms are, as a
rale, small, and their stock of goods meager.
The smaller stores jumble their goods into the
windows, with no attempt ut tasteful arrangement,
ami the sign of a small grocer}* store L?
a window filled with greasy hams and vegetables.
The meat markets, or butcher sho]?,
all have one wide window opening on to the
sidewalk, and the ledge of this window is the
meat counter, on which the cuts are carved
n?d weighed. In the bettor class of butcher
shojis this counter is a marble slab; ia the
poorer it is of wood.
Saloons in Cork aro well patronized, and
you will find both women and men drinking
at- theiu. They aro known here ns "spirit and
vine stores," and have signs of this kind.
Another curious store hero is ' The Potato
Store," where potatoes alone are sold. The
]>otato is the staple food of the lower classes, |
and you will see these stores everywliere.
Potatoes are worth now a1>out the same as in {
America. Thojo I havo eaten aro very fine,
.and from the general health of the people I
see there can be uo better diet in the world.
OUTSIDE JAfXTIXO CAR.
Tho street svencs of Cork are like those nf
no city iu Europe. The vehicles are all two wlicelcd,
from the jaunting car, which dashes
Along at a four minute pace with its load of
pretty Irish girls or English tourists, to tho j
heavy cart-, which drags on its two wheels a I
Lwul of stone; from the mail wagon, with its
gaudy colored paint, to the littlo donkey
cart, whose animal is not half the size of its
driver and would not weigh much moro than
a Newfoundland dog.
The jaunting car i.s the hackney cab of Ireland
You find it everywhere and nil classcs
use it. There are three kinds, outside, inside
mid covered cars, and I give you hero pictures
of each. The most used, however, is tho ;
open one, or the outside jaunting car. Tho j
.seats of this arc cushioned ciul tho frame |
work is painted in bright colors. The seats j
tire fully live feet from tho grouml and !
the passengers face the sidewalk as they j
* >1
INSIDE .TAVXTIXO CAR.
riilc. Thoy look much as though they were
in a pair of jmniers sitting back to back, as
they go jolting along on the springs, and tlio
raw Irishman who sits just behind drives
like Jehu and generally has u good horse.
In case ho has a full car of four passengers
be sits i:i the center, but if only one or two he
must take one of the side scats or the car
would be unbalanced and go over at the first
turn of a comer. One of the drivers in Cork
says: "The outside car is the best. It's mighty
convenient, for if ye have a lady wid ye sbe
is all to yourself to spako to and to fell in
love wid, and lor that raison the ladies prefer
them."
Tlie.-o jaunting car drivers are good fellows,
as a rule, and the promise of a foe of a few
pence makes them very frieudly and loqua-1
.cioui One of them drove myself and anotiie/ ,
V
American nttfmt tort miles for $1.7"), nnd when
I paid him instead of tho price agreed
tipon, he seemed hardly able to express his
gratitude. Car fares arc very cheap in Ireland.
In the larger citics twelve cents is the
fixed tariff of a ride from one point to another
for one or two persons, and two persons can
get a car for nn hour, with tho driver, for
thirty-seven cents inside tho city and fifty
cents outside. A jaunting car costs from
$H)(> to $150, and a very good one can bo gotten
for $ 125. You can hire them to take you all
over tho country, nnd they make tho best of
sight-seeing conveyances. Tho drivers tell
me that they arc not at all hard on tho horses,
and I note that the hoi-sis used in them are,
as a rule, better than tho cab horses I have
seen elsewhere in Europe and in America.
COVERED JAUNTING CAlU
Tho inside jaunting car has seats turned inward,
and tho covered car has a top, which
mokes it look much like an oilskin tent on
wheels. Neither of these are much used,
however, and the open vehiclo is tho favorite.
It was in one of these jaunting cars that I
rode out to Blarney castle. It lies about five
miles from Cork, and it, about 470 years ago,
formed tho residence of somo of the Irish
kmgs. Both Cromwell and King "William
III besieged it, and the latter, after tho battle
of the Boyne, in the time of our several times
great-grandfathers, took it and demolished
all but the donjon tower. This remains today
in good preservation, and promises to
defy for years the assaults of Timo and the
ivy. Grass and vines grow in its crevices,
and over its top, 120 feet high, the height of a
good long church spire, the green leaves have
twined themselves. This tower is many feet
square, nnd has numerous dark rooms.
It is built of granite, and there is a winding
stairway which loads to the top. The tower
is wonderfully wtll constructed, and the
architect of to-dny would find it hard to
duplicate it
The Blarney stono is about twenty fleet
from the top and though tho guido books say
otherwise, it is impossible to kiss it nnd live.
Some travelers are shown other stones and go
away imagining that in kissing these that
they carry with them the mysterious power
giveu by kissing tho Blarney stone us doKri
iluvl iii tln> frish lines. For
Mire a magnet its influenco such is.
Attraction it pves all it touches.
If vou kiss it they say. from that Messed day,
\'ou may kiss "whom you please wid your
blarney.
BLARNEY CASTLE.
Blarney eastlu is now owned by th* young
Lord of Blarney, who has inherited a great
estato surrounding it. He lias had much
d. 11 .'1.1. l.;,. fi,A
iruuijii' wuu iil> tcuaiiidiiiiu duiiic ui tuv? nuiwc
arc lying idle. One of Lis tenants not long
since refused to pay the rent demanded of
him and ho was evicted. Tbo young "lord's
agent tried to get another tenant, hut when a
tenant Is turned out on such grounds it
would not lie safe for another nun to take
the property. The lands of this tenant were
left idle for a year or two, and u short time
ago he was reinstated upon hu? own terms.
As we drove from Cork to Blarney other
empty houses were pointed out to us, and one
driver told us that these were idle on account
of such evictions.
The country drives through Ireland arc
very beautiful, and about Cork they are like
driving through continuous gardens. The
roads are piked and they arc as smooth as a
floor. The green fields are separated from
them by walls of stone and hedge and great
trees, the tranks of which arc covered with
ivy, hang over them. Now niul then j-ou
pass the entrance to the mansion of some
great lord, who has his porter's lodge beside
it, and who owns his acres often by the tens
of thousands.
Along these roads about Cork, and here and
11 11-.. .1 ?UA A?.A
lUVI U M'UttUIVil VI iuc HUHAOvcaj/v, uiu
numerous one-story cabins, of stone or of
stucco, washed w ith a coat of glaring whitewash.
They are usually of one low story and
an attic, ami their roofs are of thatched
straws. This thatch, in many instances, is
old and broken. The grass grows in it, and
the moss springs up all over it. The edgo of
the roof is often no higher thnn a man's head,
and many of these huts have but one room.
Few have more than two. They l>clong to
small tenants, men who have from ouo to
thirty or forty acres of land, at a rent of
from $5 to $10 per acre for it. Think of paying
$400 a year rent for forty acres of land,
with a cabin hardly tit for a hogpen on it,
and you liavo the condition of these people.
Nearly tho whole of Ireland is rented out
by landlords who live in England, and who
spend their money there. Many of them
never come to Ireland at all. Others have
never seen their estates, and there are many
who get from $50,000 to $200,000 a year in
rents. These rents are collected by agents,
and land in Ireland rents from $3 to #30
per acre. A good average would jwrhaps tie
$5 or $0 per acre. Some rent as high as $46
per acre.
Speaking of large estates, tlireo men own
estates in Ireland of more than 100,000 acres
each, and fourteen own estates of from 50,000
to 100,000 acres each. The whole of Ireland
is not as large as Ohio, anil it is owned
by a very few ipen. The workers of the
country in the fewest instances own the land
they till. The products of the country are
shipped out of it, and tho money earned by it
is spent abroad. A member of parliament,
whom I met at Belfast daring the riots, tells
mo that from $.)0,000,>XX) to $00,000,000 is seat
to England in payment of Irish rents yearly.
1 have heard it estimated elsewhere at ?&>,000,000
a year. Cut the $50,000,000 is striking
enough. What state in the Union could stand
such a draw year alter year? It is no wonder
that the laboring classes of Ireland are the
poorest in Europe and that their condition of
living is the worst.
The country of Ireland resembles in its
natural character many of the United
States. It is made up of gently rolling hills
in the south and those along the coast rise into
low rocky mountains. About Cork it is a
garden, and as far us you can ice ricb crop*
I fill your eyes and tlio fattest or cattle ijnd I
sheep dot the landscape. The fields loo!: like 1
I those of a model farm. They aro generally
: rectangular in shape and aro, as a rule, small, 1
I seldom lx>ing over five or ten acres in extent 1
! and often only ono or two. These fields are t
j separated by stone walls about two to fouf 1
! feet wide at the bottom and banked up with 1
earth, so that in many cases tbo stones aro (
not seen and the fields seem to bo separated <
by walls of green grass, which are often 03 ?
high as four feet. On many of tho walls J
hedges are planted and in some of them small 1
trees grow. There are no wooden fences on 3
the farms of southern Ireland, and the only 1
wire I have seen is here and thero a strand or i
two nn stakes about a foot hitrh. runninn 1
along tho tops of tho walls which line the railways.
These fences add greatly to tho beauty of
the landscape and make it look totally different
from an American one. They take up,
however, a great deal of valuable land, ami
in most cases have as much space allotted to
them as the woven rail fences. Often there
is a deep ditch running around the fields inside
tho walls, and in such cases the fence
and ditch wastes a strip of land from ten to
fifteen feet wide all around it. It is in this
waste of land in fences that somo people find
all the troubles of Ireland. It is certainly a
great waste, but I imagine Ireland's chief
troubles rome from other causes.
Before I left America a leading editor^ who
makes it his rulo to spend 100 days every
year abroad, asked me why I wanted to go to
Ireland, as "there were 110 antiquities there."
This is a mistake. Ireland is rich in J-uins,
and you find old on sties everywhere. Blnrney
is only one of hundreds, and old mjnasteries,
and there is a greater number of ruined
abbeys here than in England
ROCK OF CASIIEL.
Tbo round towers of Ireland nro romarka- J
bio ruins, tho use of which is not known,
though it is supposed that they were tho
watcb-towera of tbo i*oplo against tho Danes,
away back when England and Ireland wcro s
almost savage countries. Between Killaniey 1
anil Dublin there is one of these towel's in al- J
most perfect preservation. It is known as t
the ilock of Cashel, is made of sandstone, and u
is as high as an eight-story house, or ninety 1
feet. There was an abbny built near this ?
during the middle ages, but it is in ruins, *
while tho tower, much older than it, stands a
out n proud monument of early Celtic urcbi- r
tccturo. ^
I took a day's drive in an open stage over t
be mountainous hills of southern Ireland, #
going through what is called its most pietures>,ue
scenery .-.nd stopping at the Lakes oi c
Killarney. Leaving Cork by rail, we rode 6
about two bouts through Cork county to a I
little town named Bantry, owned by Lord n
Bantry, one of tbo nabobs of the county, ani i
from hero drove about three liours to the Bay s
of GlengarilT. Tho drive all this way was v
largely through this lord's lands, ami rich f
lields. fat sheep and cattle, and paupers were a
the chief features of the landscape. Bantry '
is named ofter the noble family which owns 1
it, and this owning of a town is not uncoui- r
nion here. All the* houses or money of the -s
little Irish town are owned by one man whose u
ngent rents them out to tenants. In other
eases the tenant rents t!ie land on a long C
lease and builds stores and houses upon them. *
These in turn he re-rents, and by paying s
a ground rent of from $5 upwards for a little >
block of ground, builds a property upon it t
which will rent for a tair interest on his, in- <]
vestment. s
These little towns scattered over southern I
Ireland are much like the Cork suburb*.
They have no ganjens, have no architectural '
beauties, and the poorer parts of thein ore s
not fit for such hermits as Dickens' Tom Tiddler,
much less for families of ten aiid twelve 1
children, added to the father and mother. *
The roads of Ireland are fine everywhere, s
and the improvements in the vay of bridges s>
are of the most substantial character. Iu ?
this day's ride through the mountains we were e
oh a pike nil the way, and in some cases the
road was cut through solid rock. Wo drove
through n great part of Cork and Kerry
counties, the latter of which bos over
1,000,0(H) acres, and Cork, the largest county
in Ireland, more than 1,800,000 acres.
BEGGING PENNIES. t
Beggars followed us everywhere, and they f
were of all classes nnd ages. At every turn > 1
of tlio road and from every rock, bare- 1
headed, bare-logged, ragged girls and boys , ?
j from 4 years old to HJ sprang forth and made 1
for our stage,'holding out their hands as they 1
ran, and saying, "Penny if you plazo, stir.
Penny if you plaze." This refrain they would '
keep up for miles, running all the time as
: fast as the horses and keeping even with the J
' stage. If a penny was thrown to them, they j
would scramble and light among themselves '
for it and then dart on to beg for more. .Some 1
of the little girls wero almost naked, and t
none of them had hats, shoes or good clothes. *
i One 1 remember, a strapping, good looking j
! girl of l.j, had upon her rags which left her in ,
I a state of semi-nudity, and which looked as $
i though the breaking of a thread would leava <
j her dad a la Mudam Eve before tho full. Sbd . I
jot about five pennies in atfibee-mile run and
ivas prpfuse in ber God blesg yous.
OiwJ of the best beggars of tbo whole lot
ivas a little red-beaded boy of about 10 years
ivho foHowed us five miles at least. Ho was
ill rags, but quite pretty, and bis bare] feet
:opt bim up with the stage though 'his face
ivas flushed with tbo exertion. He ran along
md sang Irish songs for us, and then asked
is if wo would give bim a penny if ho would
itand on his head. \Vithdiit waiting ifor a
cply be dashed ahead of the trotting four*
ioi-so team and after he had gotten about .S00
rards in advance lie stood on bis bead and
jalanced his bare legs in tbo air, and so renamed
with red face while the stage passed,
lis almost bursting eyeballs looking into faces
ind inquiring as to the result of his cliicf
legging trick. He did this a half dozen
imcs, until I promised him ft penny if he
irould follow us no longer. Ho promised I
brew him tho penny, and ho turned to run
wick when an Australian wag on tho front
eat held np another copper, and he broke his
vord and put after us again.
At Kenmare un able-bodied Irishmnn of
10 stood in tho street and sung songs, while
lie stago stopped, for the few pennies which
vero given him. Ho had a sbillalch hi his
lands and danced an Irish dance at tho end
>f each verse. It was a humiliating and degrading
scene and I pitied the man more
ban I laicised at his antics.
At th^ * Afces of Killarney the beggars are
egion. They seizo hold of you and will hardy
let you go. They meet you at evsry turn
md by laughing or crying, by importunity
ind check, coax the coppers out of j-our
x>cket at every turn. They try to force you
o buy, and swarm about you to such an exent
that tho scenery is hardly worth the
itrucjgle in getting past them.
TBo same lagging I found at Dublin, and
so everywhere in tho south of Ireland where
:ourists go. There was loss of it in tho north>m
counties, and off of the lines of travel
icarcely any. Mr. Robert P. Porter, who
raveled over the western counties, tells me
;bnt away from tho railroads ho found the
xoplo miserably poor but no beggars.
Western and southern Ireland aiu the
joorest parts. Milk, potatoes and Indian
neal mush, which they call stira'lxiut, is the
itaple diet, and meat is seldom se?n except on
lolydavs and Christmas. Northern Protcstuit
Ireland is better off, but the huts are
lerc of iihc samo character and there is mucb
wverty. A change must take place In this
ountry soon, l>ut when and how I leave it
'or the politicians to say.
FRANK GEORGE Carpenter.
NEW YORK NOTES.
!*rol>nblllty That 5Ir*. Potter Will Adopt
the Tlicutrical Profession.
[Spcclal Corrcjpondenee.J
New York, Sept. 20.?From tlio many
tories afloat, nil of them singularly con urrenfc,
it oppeai-s entirely probable that
Mrs. James Brown Totter will soon adopt
be stage as a profession. She bos carried
imateur acting to such extremes that there
\ 11 bo very little difference between that
ind entering the theatre regularly. She
ins been as conspicuous through advertising
is she is over likely to liecome, perhaps much
noro so. Any and all pretense of her privacy
is palpably absurd under existing condiions.
She is as much talked and written
ibout, commented 011 and pointed out as any
ictress in the city. She knows it, too, and
njoys it; for vanity, however it may lx> disguised,
is one of her leading traits. The
irowns and Potters, two of the most conservative
families in town, can hardly relish the
ilea; but the chango when it comes will
carcely bo perceptible, and the lady herself
rill be far more consistent as a complete proessional
than as a professional amateur while
issuming to be strictly in private life. Mrs.
'otter is pretty and clever. As Cora Urguiart,
u uativo 1 telle of New Orleans, she was
nuch fluttered and bad her own way; and
he seems to have it still in the ."ace of any
miouiit of orthodox and social opposition.
Very few pci-sons who remember the
.'hun-h of the Puritans in Union square, in
vhich the Rev. George B. Cheever preached
o eloquently and passionately against slavery
11 the days beforo the war, have any idea
bat it remains in the same form in another
[uartcr of the town. Tiffany's jewelry and
ilvcrwaro establishment occupies its site,
t was a familiar and pictorial structure with
ts granite walls and clustering ivy, and was
emarkablo for having one liower much
horter than the other. The story is that,
vhile tho building was contentplatevi^cne of
ho members of the Congregational society,
vhile traveling in Europe, was particularly
truck with a church in England. Having
omo skill in drawing, and some idea of
irehiteeture, he made a copy of the English
dilicu on [wiper, brought it home, and it so
leased the building committee that thcysubtantially
adopted tho design. Long after
hey learned that the reason of the short
ower on the other side was that the British
ongregution had not sufficient money to
Ilium 11. 1 uis greatly anniseu ur. k. nccvcr s
ongregation, but clid not alter their opinon
of tlio pieturcsqueness of tho abircviatcd
tower. Tlio Church of the Purians
was sold, the stones marked and put into
lie Mt. Olivet (colored) Baptist church, in
fifty-third street near Seventh avenue, an
ixact reproduction of the ivy-covered pile of
i quarter of a century ago in Union square,
tiinus the ivy., But in the street through
vhich the elevated railway runs it naturally
Iocs not look half so imposing as it did in the
unious square. Hardly any olil New Yorker
ecogniZ'.-s it, I suspect, when he posses it.
Dr. Ciicovcr is also extant, though generilly
sup]K)scd to lie dead. He retired from
he pulpit during the civil war on account of
Iclicatc- health, and has been living most of
he time in one of tho flew Jersey suburbs,
le has 1-ad an active career. Born in Maine,
i graduate of Bowdoin and Andover, lie was
jastor of a Congregational cliurch ct .Salem,
Uass. Then, as ever afterward, an anient
ulvoeate of temperance, bo published at
IS a reputed dream, " Deacon Gile's
Distillery," in which tho liquors wero
I escribed as containing demons, and oonstiuting
an infernal pit. The article hail wide
jopulnrity in tlio form of a temjieraucc tract; |
X'acon Gilo was thought to bo a wealthy
itizen. who was quite pojuilar with a lertain
lass. Consequently, Chcever's skit excited
vruth against him iimong the coniiiion peo>le,
wlio attacked him, and handled him
ouglily in the street. Ho was also tried /or
ibel and committed to jail for thirty days.
:le bos always token profound pride in that
mprisonnient as the penalty for freedom of
'XpreSSlOll. r or fcue i.wruijr } viii d iii una ;
aken 110 part In public affairs, passing his
ime among his hooks, and with some of his !
?l<i friends. He has himself been a prolific j
mthor, but lias written nothing for a long i
vhilo. lie is now 79, and wholly unknown !
o tho rising generation.
Junius Henri Browne.
Tho chief priest nt ranadinc to Edwin j
\rnold: Life will condense, by means of j
leath, into its essence. Your wise men are
lot wise to speak even here of live senses,
["here is a sixth sense?the chitta, tho mind. !
It is that which truly sees, hears, smells, 1
.astes and touches; not the organs. When
>ye and ear and nostrils and tonguoand limbs
ire laid aside, the master sense becomes all
be 11101*3 freo and opened. It is in this as
with the chemical elements. To-day thej ,
seem to i?o many making up tlie world?here- I
li ter it will appear that all can be coiiccu* j
iruted into one which Ukca many forms.'
WILSOI BARRETT.
HIS CHILDHOOD OF HARD WORK
xAND YOUTHFUL STRUGGLES.
Ells Six "Week# ol Schooling?HI* Flmt
Drama, jiiirt tli? Way In Which It Wim
Presented?KaMy I*rcinonltlon of Success?
Working: Up from tli?i Foot.
[Sppclal CoBrcsppnilenci'.l
New Yojik, Sept* tJO.?Mr. Wilson Barrett,
lessee and manager of the Royal Princess'
theatre, London, will soon arrive in America,
and will appear in his favorite r6les in all our
lending cities as far west as Chicago. A
friend of the celebrated actor has furnished
me many fresh details of his early life
which will he read with interest at this time,
when Mr. Barrett is abo&t to land oil bur
shores.
"Wilson Bairett was a precocious hoy. Between
12 and 13 he learned every word of
Hamlet and the Merchant of Venice, while
hard at work in the office of a wholesale corn
merchant who paid the lad six shillings a
week. Out of this sum bis parents allowed
him two shillings nnd sixpence, with which
hi was expected to clotho and feed himself.
He had only a bed and supper at home. His
Lours of labor wcro from 7 in the morning
until 10 or 11 at night, with n half
hour's rest for breakfast and another half
hour for lunch?tho larger portion of which
time he employed in reading whatever ho
could lay hands upon, especially anything
about plays or tho stage. Every cent that ho
coidd spare from liis tiny weekly stipend or
could gain in nny extra way ho spent on
lK>)ks. His duties at the corn merchant's
were numerous and varied. He would carry
money to the hank on foot and convey grain
to a purchaser with a horse anil cart, and
more than once, when about 14, ho actually
lugged sacks of corn or flour for certain distances,
the sacks often weighing two and a
half hundred weight. About this time, when
he used to have to go to tho wharves for flour,
tho men, seeing him do men's work, put hindrances
in his way, drove their teams into
him nnd jeered at him. But he did not mind
them. He kept on at bis toil In nil weathers,
although sometimes so thinly clad thut ho
bad his hands frozen.
WILSON* AS CHATTMmiLt. |
When young Barrett was 14 lie begged his
mnstor to let him leave work nt 8 o'clock for
otio evening in each week in order that he
might attend evening school nt a charge of
twopence. This request the merchant granted
to him for about six weeks, but at the end of ;
t.bnt time, lhiding that the boy was too much i
missed, ho withdrew the permission. And
t his was the extent of the schooling of Wilson
Barrett. But his mind was developing rapidly
without the aid of teachers. Ho had been
trying his hand at little dramas, and on his
way homo from the store at night ho frequently
used to slip into the theatre and see
the last part of whatever play was on. Then
he would "shin up" tho water pipe and into |
his low lied room and undress as quietly as |
jxissible so as not to awaken his parents, who, |
lie knew, would not approve his conduct.
But this growing love for the stage became
stronger and stronger, in him. One night he J
saw Henry Neville, then the lending actor at |
the Olympic, in "Camilla's Husband." It'
was a very warm evening. Young Barrett
at in tho galleries and thon ran all the way
heme after the play. He took a chill whicli I
resulted in inflammation of the lungs and
pleurisy, and for a long time tho poor child
wavered between life and death. During
this sickness, the sum of sixteen shillings,
which ho had been saving up penny by
penny ns a starting fund for entering tho
dramatic profession, and which ho had always
kept in liw pocket by day and in a littlo
canvas bag under his pillow at night, was
discovered and paid over to the doctor. Very
recently, when Mr. Neville told Mr. Barrett
that English actors looked to him as the head
of their profession, the latter said: "That's
good to hear from you, as you nearly killed
mo at tho beginning!"
After his convalesccnce young Barrett
wont back to tho corn dealer's, and shortly
afterward to a large bank note printing
oflico. Hero he rose rapidly, receiving at the
start fifteen shillings a week, and ns the
botirs of work were not so confining as with
bis former employers lio found timo to write
LLs first completed drama, "Robin Hood."
Ho was now 15 years old, and with some
other lads of about the same age accomplished
an extraordinary thing. He arranged
an old shed in the buck of a garden as a
theatre, with stage and scenery, and in lieu
of gas or footlights devised a scheme of oil
lamps, whose wicks could be turned up or
down all at tho same time by pulling a wire.
For the boxes a board was painted and cut
out in the shape of curtains, so that a niav
.standing outsido looked from tho stago as if
seated in a regular theatre box. There were
i?:c members in young Barrett's company,
and, after several rehearsals, tickets were
issued to fifty or sixty friends and relatives
of the actoi's. The play was a great success,
and the amateur theatre was nightly crowded.
The actoi's did tho scene shifting, ami Mr.
Wilson Barrett's brother George, the now
well-known comedian of the Princess' theatre,
had for his inspiring portion of the work to
sir. on a narrow board up over their heads in
the Hies, the ladder by which he had mounted
being taken down in order to make sure of
his staying there till the end of the play. Tt
was very hot on his perch, and ho some times
got very tired, and had to be poked with ?
long st ick in order to be kept up to business
They purchased calico and fitained and cut
and stitched their own costumes, young
Wilson doing all the devising, designing and
literary work. Their orchestra consisted of
a violin. English concertina and flute. They
wanted a drum; but, the orchestra being too
small to accommodate tho real article, the
plan was liit on or covering a srann si|iiurn i
box with thick brown paper, kept taut by o )
spirit lamp. This was a fair drum if not hit !
too hard.
About this time a very large robbery of
bank notes occurred and detect iyes were following
every ]>crson connected with tho
printer's firm where young Barrett was cm
ployed. One night, being a little late, the
boy ran nil tho way from the office to his
theatre, which awakened the suspicions of a
detective, who dogged him and iuar\vl"d to
see him slip in among a score or I wo of jvople
In a back yard.' Following in himself iie
6tayod through the play, joined hi tho ap*
plause, pronounced it capita} ,*fun and went
away convinced that Wilson Barrett was not
the thief he was in quest of. ; u f. '
Three years before all this, when a lad oi
12, he stood one night in a pouring raid
storm, wrapped in an old sack from the corn
dealer's and with his broken boots full of
water, in front of tho Princess' theatre, then
in its best days under Keen's auspices, and
quietly determined that ho would manage
tliat play houso before he died. And he lived
to do so. Then, too, it was that ho would pay
half a crown to the master carpenter to bo
as to win for blin the personal regard ana artistic
appreciation of the theatre going public.
Mr. Barrett is not only a line actor and an
able manager, but also a good citizen and a
perfect gentleman. His generosity, both in
purse and sympathy, to the members of his
own profession and to the needy in other
walks of life has been too great and constant
not to bo well known, ultbough bo himself has
always been silent about it. "When he realized
his boyhood's ambition and bceome master
of the Prim-ess' theatre, that house was at
Its lowest point- But in less than five years
he knew how to bring it up in every department
to the highest dogreo yet reached in any
stage management. Theodore Stanton.
ANGLOMANIA IN NEW YORK.
now Gen. Radcan'if Work lias Inaugurated
a Cure.
[Special Correspondence.]
New York, Sept. 20.?A healthful social
symptom visible hero is the beginning of a
reaction against tbo anglomania, from
which certain circles have so long suffered.
Scrvilo and ridiculous as it has always
been in the eyes of the community in
general, tney seem to nave naci no suspicion
of it until recently. Nor would thoy Lave
harl any but for the flagrant violations of
common courtesy >and common decency 0:1
the part, of many Englishmen whom they
have entertained lavishly and deferred to beyond
all reason. They have discovered that
most of their British guests accept their bos-,
pitalities ns matters of course, as tributes
from inferiors to superiors, and that they
never dream of aught liko reciprocating
when their American "friends" happen to be
on British soil. In tmth, these are apt to be
snubbed in any advances they may make,
and treated very shabbily by the persons
they havo placed, 011 this side of the sea
under great social obligation. Moreover, the
insolence, the downright insults tlint have
been offered to different New York families
by their transatlantic cousins havo had
their effect
A writer commenting on thus disease says:
"One shameful example of this was the presence
of the Duke of Sutherland with his mistress
at a wedding breakfast on the occasion
of his daughter's marriage, given by our
fnrmw minister to t.hf> court of St. Cloud.
This studied atEront seems incredible; but
there apijears to l>e no doubt of it. The duko
ought to have been publicly horsewhipped
for the brutal hit of blackguardism, and it is
a pity that he was not. ' It would have served
as a salutary precedent for the proper treatmentof
noble lords under such circuuitances.
Similar instances, though none quite so
atrocious, are not uncommon, and even New
York anglomaniacs are getting cured of their
distemper. The worm has been trodden upon
until it has turned. Hcnceforth visiting
Englishmen will bo likely to find a change in
somo of the persons here who have been polite
to them to a point of fawning, and who
have hitherto so overdone the duties of hospitality.
The average Briton is a good deal of
a bully, and the best cure of his bul ying is to
bully him in turn. Ho will entertain a sincere
esteem for America and Americans
when they resent, as they should, any infraction
of his of the laws of good breeding."
The articles on aristocracy in England by
Gen. Adam Badeau, recently published by a
syndicate of newspapers, have doubtless done
much toward effecting a cure. Nothing ever
written about the English has been so timely
and salutary as thesy articles. They have
dono more to destroy anglomania than all
other means combined, because they give an
impartial and thorough presentation of aris?
" *>-.1 V J., ??.1
locrucy. \jnjii, ntiucuu a oi-jic mj iu omij/iv
forceful as Goldsmith's.
The author has had opportunities of studying
his subject on its native heath not often
presented to Americans. Perhaps tho very
greatest service rendered by (Jen. Dadeau's
book is tho truthful showing he gives
of tho enslaved condition of tho upper
class Englishwomen. IIo say3 in plain
words: "A woman is a nobody in Englishmen's
eyes." This fact has been known to
tboso untainted with Anglomania for a long
time, and in estimating the civilization of the
mother country it is well to bear it in mind.
Gen. Dadcau says:
"I knew a dowager whose husband had been
called the wealthiest commoner in England,
who was left a year, though In- willed
away minions. A woman is a ? <-' <v?y in Englishmen'^
e>'-'s. The husband Ind vvn fond of
his wife. lv t it u:i net occur to him to provide
her with tho stftto to which she hud been
aecustomcl f*ra lifetime.
"The daugntPiJ cf great houses prepare for
their fate from tLe Kginning. i'hey never
reign unless they mm ry. If they cannot secure
a husband tiny club together when tho
father dies, und keep up a little establishment
in an obscure way; or tho queen gives somo
of them, out of charity, rooms at Kensington
palace or Hampton court, or some other asylum
for decayed aristocrats. You will find
tiiero women of oldest lineage pinched for
their dinners and their gloves, whose early
lives were spent in tho most sumptuous structures
and splendid stylo that this world
knows.''
The author is as impartial as nn is severe.
He shows the pleasing side of the aristocracy,
and the examples of real nobility that he
found among them. He describes tin Irish
and Ens""'' peer, whom ho calls "a nobleman
iiv'-^d," n a manner that wins one's
l;igli?'.t ndmirat?",iT. Cut ho says of him, "I
insiit "-r*' '-?I wish lmi>htcallhim friend
?wouK li?"e boon jiiit as imich of a nobleman
if hf .. ..a been born an American and a
Jomociul Ho was oao of nature's noblotiJen."
G. Cr.
admitted to the flies, much to the perplexity
of the same master carpenter, who wondere*
why tho queer boy didn't save the six pence
and sit in the pit and bear tho play. But
Wilson Barrett early felt that great success
in any profession depended upon a thorough
moofamr f\9 aworo Kranoli nf fhnf. nrnfpccinn
In. order to study tho play free of charge, he
lea: tied the violin and got an engagement in
tbo orchestra; and in order to got on the
stage he took lessons in dancing whenever ho
could pay for it; and it was as a danccr that
be made bis first public appearance. He performed
so well between acts that the comedian
whose benefit ho enlivened took a fancy
fcl bim and taught him broadsword combat,
which Barrett practised in his own room on
Sunday mornings, thinking it might be of
some use to him sometime. That same comodian
nnd bis 6on are now members of Mr.
Barrett's traveling company
Young Barrett had now derided irt bis o*rrt
mind to abandon all other employments and
make his living by acting. But a formidable
obstacle lay in bis way?his parents were opposed
to tho measure. His fat her felt terribly
and prophesied utter failure, while the heads
of the printing (irm did their utmost to dissuadohim.
But Wilson Barrett stuck to his
purpose and succeeded at once. In ten weeks'
time he had passed from the smallest parts to
playing tho leading young man parts. His
success has l>een steady from that day to this,
and has always been attended by such conduct
CARDS AND LIQUOR. ;
TWO VICES THAT HAVE RUINED
MANY A BRIGHT MAN.
Caso of (jnB Wlio "Might Ilavo :
Infutnatcd with 'Jllie ,Icnla Fataoa oj"
"Good Lack"?A PIcturo of Diatreas.
| Drunk Again. (> % 'f : Jq
j Not long ago we went into Ifesrnttfe's togoi *
a German dinner. "Wliilo eating noSfflo sOtt| I
and lebenvurst we saw at a side tablo a mar.'
witli a massive face, penetrating Pyes, and d
brood forehead. In the reign of Jamca - v?3
Buchanan ho was a very prominent poli ticion.
As a stump speaker he had few equals. Hi
has written leading articles for many dailj
newspapers, and ho is a thorough polities!
economist. Time had evidently treated him
harshly* Ho looked like an old burdock bun
irore to seed. His shabby coat was buttoned
tight; to his throat, but not tight enough tfl
aide tho dirty flannel undershirt beneath it,
for he woro neither collar nor muslin garment.
His shoes wcro crackcd, and his soft - -/.---"HI
felt hat was much tho worse for wear. Thert
was not tho slightest trace of dissipation
about him. He seemed downcast and lost ia
thought
At a loss to account for tho chango in hi]
appearance, wo invited him to dine. Ho too!:
a potato salad and some beer, but was moody
and reserved. He would not talk about himself,
and ho cared hot to talk hboiit uh.) body,
el^e. It was evident that ho Was Very needy.' Ws
t\~hen a $5 note was pressed Into liis hand his
eyes filled with tears.
UI did not ask you for this," ho said, in a
voice broken with emotion.
"No, indeed, you did not," wo agreed. "But
we know you need it. Take it, and get clean
underclothes and a shirt. We know that you
have no appetite for liquor, or wo would not _
offer it to you. If you are ever again in good
circumstances you can repay it"
Ho roso and grasped us convulsively by tho
hand. "I'll never forget this as long as. J
live," he said impressively, and walked hurriedly
from the restaurant % >- r
THE EX-CONG RESSJIAX'S FATAL SECRET, * * |lf
Capt W.f a well-known gambler, sat
twenty leet uwujr* jiiiu uau nuui luau uaxuijr
reached tho sidewalk before tho captain Was
at onr side. "I saw you talking with tbo COn?
gressman just now," ho said, "and I think 1
saw you givo him some money. Did ho ask - \
you for any f*
"No," was tbo answer. "Ho looked poor >''|S
and seedy, and I gave him enough to fix him-i
self up. That was all. Ho has gone out to.
buy a shirt and collar and clean underclothing-"
>
Tho captain had a sarcastic smile on hia
face. "Come with me," ho said, "and see how
he fixes himself up. It will interest men like ' .^38
you."
After paying tho reckoning, wo followed ';-l3
tho captain. IIo escorted us around the corner.
Up a narrow stairway wo stumbled into i ScS
a littlo entry on tho second floor. There a
bell was rung. A small panel in tho center
of the door was shd, and a black face appeared
at the opening. Tho captain was recog-* ^'.7
nized, and we were admitted without hesitation.
Tho room was carpeted and furnished
vrith an attractive sideboard. After moisten-.
Ing our iips wo went into an adjoining apart:;
inent It contained a faro bank Half u
dozen players sat around tho table. Tlia ^3
silence was only brok<^i by tho mellow clicking
of ivory chips.
One glance was enough. Tho "congressman"
was there, (ho most interested player of tho
lot. Ho r a< so intent upon the gamo that ho
took no heed of his surroundings. His fingers
lovingly played with the chips. Every card
was watched as though life or doath depended
upon it. Beads of sweat stood on tho broad,..
whito brow. His eyes glowed with fcvcristt*impulses.
Ho lost the last cent of his 65 noto >
"calling tho turn." After vainly trying to
beg or borrow a fresh chip ho drew a long?
breath and nroso from the table. As ho saw '
us his faco colored, and ho nervously clutched
his coat at Iho throat. "It's worse than a
taste for liquor," he said, apologetically. "I * '*
couldn't help it. But I was on tho verge of ^
good luck. If you'2 only loan mo ?5 more Til S
pay you baeli ia five minutes."
His couatenanco fell at tho shako of tho. Sw
haul, and ho went down stairs. Tho secret o?.
his downfall was out. "Night, noon and
morning," observed tho captain, "has ho b<*u
nt the faro tablo for ten years, and night,
noon and morning will he remain there until
ho dire."
Ten days ago ho stood before us again in
tho editorial rooms of a great morning nows- .
paper. Ho was still beating tho copses and i
dingk'3 of life in liio efforts to foed his passion
for gambling. '
a:.* unquenchable attetite.
Tlicso efforts however, contrast unfavorably?
with those of a man with an unquenchablo 5
appetite for liquor. lie was formerly a night ^
editor of unsurpassed ability. One Saturday
afternoon lie stood on tho curb a picturc
6iulncu3 and distress. A brother journalist,.who
had just drawnawook's salajy4 pissed,,
him. Touched by his mournful cowitcnruie<V<
he turned back, saying, "John, what's the
matter with 3'ou? You look troubled."
Tho poor fellow's chest heaved, and therey _
seemed to be a choking sensation hi his throat.' '
Finally ho said: "ily wife is sick, awl I havo t
been oat of work some time. I haven't a s
cent, and I owo six weeks' rent I expect to".
find tho whole family out on tho sidewalk
when i go 110x1c u>-mgui." ^
Tho fri.-nd gave him ?10, anil pressed on to
report ?i meeting in Wall street. An hour afterward,
while returning to tho ofiiee, ho
reached the saloon. Tho unfortunate night
j editor stood at tho door and took liim by tho
lapel of tho coat "I want you to comc in and
; take a drink with me," ho said in a xuaudliu
| His friend appreciated tho situation tit
j instant. The invitation was accepted. After
I the drink:-. Lad disappeared anil wero j)aid for;,
j the frioiul inquired: "Why, John,'whero did
i you get your money?"
| "Struck a fresh sucker an hour ago for $10,*
was the prompt reply.
I The city is filled with men who have drop1
ped from the ladder of fame and who draw .
1 sustenance for their passion from the indus'
trioua members of tho generation who have
; succeeded them. You find them in rcstau|
rants, at horso races, onjtlio streets and elsc;
where, but you too often find them whera.i
they are the least welcome?at your desk.?
J Kcw York Letter.
!
. rort rn.lt of (ho President'* TV If?. fl _
Thero have already been several applica
tions from artists who want to j>aint the pori
trait of the president's bride. It Las been tho ;
custom to adorn the walls of tlio White IIoiiso .
> wilh portraits of presidents and their, wives,
and there arc a full set of the former, but tho .
j Indies' faces arc very few. Mrs. Polk, Mrs. .
! Tyler, Mrs. Madison, Mrs. Washington, Mrs.
! Hayes and Mrs. Grant aro tho only ones tlwt
' arc- represented, but Mrs. Cleveland will not;
leave without having her beautiful face and
j figure left upon the walls.?Washington Letter.
I5nt Ono Huh Iie?*u Canonized.
i Of all tho men and women who b&vo j
labored for the lloman Catholic church in.
America- but one has been canonized, St.,
Iloso, of Lima, fckmth America.?luWcOct
an. ... 1 1r?is
'