Butterfly1

The second performance of “A Social Butterfly,” the new play by Mr Robert Buchanan and Mr Henry Murray, at the Opera Comique, in which Mrs Langtry is appearing, has been attended with some unusual and exciting incidents. When the last scene had concluded on Friday night, the manager asked the audience not to leave their seats, as Mr Buchanan wished to say a few words. Mr Buchanan then came on the stage, and advancing to the footlights said:—
“Ladies and Gentleman—Before you leave the theatre, I wish, on behalf of myself and collaborator, to make a few remarks, if you will kindly pardon me. Most of you have possibly read the criticisms published in the morning journals. In this place you have, no doubt, judged for yourselves how far they are true and how far they may be untrue. We, as authors of the play, are perfectly indifferent to criticism—that is to say, when criticism is fair; but unfair and malignant criticism is quite an other matter. I wish, if you will permit me, to read you a few lines published in the “Daily Telegraph” of this morning, written, I believe, by a gentleman possibly well-known to you—

MR. CLEMENT SCOTT.

In the remarks I may have to make regarding the writer of this criticism I shall refer to my MS, in which I give my opinion of this gentleman, and a copy of which will be sent to him this evening, that there may be no misapprehension in the matter. Mr Buchanan then quoted from the notice:—“That the play proved to be wholly without interest, and the players could not, with all their superhuman efforts, lift it from the dangerous edge of a precipice called ridicule.” Well, Mr. Buchanan proceeded, that is fair enough. It is a critical expression of judgement and opinion.

“So this very courteous and considerate audience did not hiss the play or linger too long on its unfortunate social solecisms, or treat with scorn incidents and interludes that failed purely from want of judgment and experienced knowledge of the stage. Not desiring to be harsh to Mr. Robert Buchanan or rude to Mrs. Langtry and her brothers and sisters in affliction wearied playgoers simply went out. They folded their seats in depression and silently stole away. There was no fuss, no fury, no gibes, no catcalls; the audience merely melted and disappeared.”

Now, ladies and gentlemen, my further remarks on that will be read to you and sent to Mr Clement Scott, for what I have read to you is absolutely false. The whole audience remained seated until the fall of the curtain, but in the upper part of the house there was

THE MOST UNSEEMLY DEMONSTRATION

that ever took place even in a theatre. A cabal was there to insult and terrify a helpless woman. throughout the play an attempt was made to twist every inherent reference into a personal imputation, and when the third act terminated weakly and feebly through a mishap, the cabal howled and hooted at the leading actress, who was in no way responsible for what had occurred. This, ladies and gentlemen. is not the first occasion on which the writer of the notice, Mr Clement Scott, has endeavoured to do me personal injury. He did so when “The Charlatan” was produced at the Haymarket, utterly perverting and destroying the story of that play, which he could not have seen. The writer of foolish verses for music halls, and of crude adaptations which he offers to leading actresses, has again and again gone out of his way to abuse my work. I wish from this stage to state publicly that he is an egotistical and spiteful writer. He witnessed the cowardly scene last night, but made no allusion whatever to it. He said the audience was patient and forbearing, and went quietly away, whereas everyone present remained to witness the attack

ON A DEFENCELESS LADY.

Possibly he sympathised with the attack, for he himself is fond of attacking helpless women who have fallen out of his good graces. You have now seen the play for yourselves, and we leave it for your good or bad opinion.
The audience cheered, and then Mr Buchanan left the stage, and Mr Henry Murray came forward and said:—“Ladies and Gentlemen,—I have no word to say except that I cordially endorse every word Mr. Buchanan has spoken.”
Following on Mr. Murray’s withdrawal from the stage, there were loud calls for Mrs. Langtry, who was received with much enthusiasm.

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Mr. Clement Scott’s Reply.

   The “Westminster Gazette” interviewed Mr Clement Scott next day.
   Mr. Clement Scott was astonishingly cheerful under the circumstances. Much experience of this sort of thing has taught him to treat such matters with a philosophic calm which borders on the sublime.
   In fact, “I have really nothing to say on the subject,” was his first remark. “Mr. Buchanan,” he continued, “has done it before, and I have no doubt he will do it again, but we have managed to remain good friends in spite of it all, and I daresay we shall continue to remain so. It pleases him and doesn’t hurt me. No, I don’t suppose I shall take any further notice of it unless my solicitors advise me otherwise, which is not very likely.
   “Of course,” continued Mr. Scott with a smile, “what Mr. Buchanan says is preposterously untrue, but that is really one reason why it is not necessary to take serious notice of it. Talk of that sort carries with it its own refutation. As to his assertion that I am habitually partial or prejudiced or deliberately unfair, I think I can safely leave a statement of that kind to the judgment of my readers and those who know me.
   “But there—this is not the first time that Mr. Buchanan has forgotten himself in this way. On a former occasion he accused me in his genial way of standing with my hat in one hand and a bludgeon in the other”—a picturesque figure of Mr. Buchanan’s which Mr. Scott recalled with manifest relish/ “But he does not mean anything by it. It is only his fun, and when he has recovered himself I daresay we shall be just as good friends as ever. It is the penalty of my position, I suppose”—and Mr. Scott smiled resignedly.
   “At the same time,” he proceeded, “I should like to point out what an outrageous breach of the proprieties which ought to govern such things Mr. Buchanan commits in attacking me in this manner. How does he know that I wrote the notice in question? It was not signed, and might have been written by anyone else, for all he knows. I don’t write all the dramatic notices in the Daily Telegraph. Yet, on the strength of what amounts to a mere guess on his part, he does not scruple to attack me personally in this abusive fashion. It is the grossest violation—but there——” and Mr. Scott smiled again apologetically for so far forgetting himself as to take Mr. Buchanan so seriously.
   “Mr. Buchanan declares that you have persistently endeavoured to do him personal injury, and says that you have again and again gone out of your way to abuse his work.”
   “Utterly untrue. I have no personal grudge against him whatever. I have been on the best of terms with him personally and have praised his plays again and again in the warmest terms. Why, in this very criticism to which he objects I alluded in the most complimentary way to the good work which he has done in the past. But I could not praise this play, because I regarded it as an utterly unworthy production. And I said so. I might have devoted a column to its analysis, but the result would have been the same. It is a poor play, and I thought it best to dismiss it in the briefest possible manner.”
   “And what about the organised cabal which Mr. Buchanan speaks of?”
   “There was none. It is utterly untrue. No one condemns anything of that sort more severely than I do, and no one would be more quick to notice it, but on this occasion there was nothing of the kind. One or two of the passages excited the laughter of the audience, but that was all. There was no organised opposition at all. As to Mr. Buchanan’s denial of my statement that many of the audience left before the end of the piece, there again he is absolutely at fault, for I could name a dozen persons of my own knowledge who did not stay it out.
   “But, really,” said Mr. Scott in conclusion, in a spirit of clemency which justified his name, “I don’t want to make too much of the affair. I don‘t want a scene next time I go to the theatre, with hooting and cheering from the pit, and that sort of thing,” a prospect at the mere thought of which Mr. Scott shuddered apprehensively. “Don’t be too hard on him. Whatever you make me say, put it as nicely as you can”—with which pathetic adjuration ringing in his ears, our representative took his leave.

[Note: This does seem to be the most complete account of Buchanan’s speech which led to Scott’s libel action since it does include more personal attacks on Scott’s character, which the other papers omitted in their accounts.]

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The Scotsman (14 May, 1894 - p.7)

“A SOCIETY BUTTERFLY.”—After the performance of Mr Robert Buchanan and Mr Henry Murray’s new play at the Opera Comique on Friday night, the manager asked the audience not to leave their seats, as Mr Buchanan wished to say a few words. Mr BUCHANAN then came on the stage, and advancing to the footlights, made a speech violently attacking Mr Clement Scott for a criticism of “A Society Butterfly,” adding—“A cabal was there to insult and terrify a helpless woman. Throughout the play an attempt was made to twist every inherent reference into a personal imputation, and when the third act terminated weakly and feebly through a mishap, the cabal howled and hooted at the leading actress, who was in no way responsible for what had occurred.” After some further remarks, Mr Buchanan said, “You have now seen the play for yourselves, and we leave it for your good or your bad opinion.” Mr Buchanan quitted the stage amidst loud and sustained cheers. Mr HENRY MURRAY remained behind, and said—”Ladies and gentlemen, I have no word to say except that I cordially endorse every word Mr Buchanan has spoken.” Following on Mr Murray’s withdrawal from the stage there were loud calls for Mrs Langtry, who was received with much enthusiasm. Mr Clement Scott on Saturday, in an interview with a representative of the Westminster Gazette on the subject, said:—“Mr Buchanan has done it before, and I have no doubt he will do it again; but we have managed to remain good friends in spite of it all, and I daresay we shall continue to remain so. It pleases him and doesn’t hurt me. No, I don’t suppose I shall take any further notice of it unless my solicitors advise me otherwise, which is not very likely. Of course,” continued Mr Scott with a smile, “what Mr Buchanan says is preposterously untrue, but that is really one reason why it is not necessary to take serious notice of it. Talk of that sort carries with it its own refutation.”

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Freeman’s Journal and Daily Commercial Advertiser (Dublin) (14 May, 1894)

Mr. Clement Scott has adopted a suaviter in modo attitude with reference to Mr. Buchanan’s attack on him from the stage of the Opera Comique on Friday night. Mr. Buchanan, in collaboration with Mr. Henry Murray, wrote “A Society Butterfly,” which Mrs. Langtry produced on Thursday last. The piece was far from being the best written by Mr. Buchanan, and was for personal and other reasons especially unsuitable for Mrs. Langtry. In common with other critics, Mr. Scott criticised it adversely, but evidently in a manner which the authors considered biassed and unfair. Accordingly, after the curtain fell at the Opera Comique on Friday night Mr. Buchanan came to the footlights, and, referring to Mr. Scott’s criticism, charged him with personal malice, and characterised him as “an egotistical and spiteful writer.” Interviewed on the incident subsequently, Mr. Scott did not appear much perturbed at the onslaught levelled at him. It pleased Mr. Buchanan, he said, and did not hurt him, and accordingly he probably would not take any further notice of it. He, however, controverted all Mr. Buchanan’s references and innuendoes, though he persisted in describing the play as an utterly unworthy production. At the conclusion of the interview he characteristically remarked, “Don’t be hard on him. Whatever you make me say, put it as nicely as you can.” Mr. Scott’s criticism may or may not have exceeded legitimate bounds, but even if it had, Mr. Buchanan might have selected another arena for his attack, and might also have restricted it to more moderate terms. The public would appear to favour Mr. Scott’s action, as on appearing at the Adelphi Theatre on Saturday he was loudly cheered from all parts of the house. Nevertheless, it is well known that before Mr. Buchanan reached his present position as a dramatist, he was the object of bitter and even occasionally malignant attacks from a certain coterie mainly composed of dramatic critics.

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Pall Mall Gazette (14 May, 1894 - p.2)

A really pretty quarrel is one of those things which the world will not willingly let die; and the quarrel between Messrs. Robert Buchanan and Henry Murray of the one part and Mr. Clement Scott of the other has added immeasurably to the gaiety of nations; for it is an exceedingly pretty one, a most delightful illustration of the amenities of theatrical intercourse. Mr. Murray and Mr. Buchanan have each sent us a strongly-worded letter, which it would have been our joy to print in the interest of free controversy. But Mr. Scott has informed a contemporary that he will probably bring an action for criminal libel against one or both of his adversaries, in addition to civil actions against other parties; and we break no confidence in saying that Mr. Buchanan has expressed his eagerness to meet him before a judge. Therefore it would be unbecoming if we were to interfere in the matter: which must be left in the hope that each side may find plenty of power to its elbow.

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The Derby Daily Telegraph (14 May, 1894 - p.2)

The theatrical sensation of the week—Mr. Robert Buchanan’s denunciation of Mr. Clement Scott from the stage of the Opéra Comique on Friday night—received a new fillip at the production of “The Two Orphans” at the Adelphi on Saturday night. The critic of the Daily Telegraph suggested to an interviewer on Saturday that his life would be none the happier if he could not sit in his stall without pit and gallery splitting up into opposite camps for and against him, and hailing him with cheers and hisses. On Saturday night he sought the seclusion of a box at the Adelphi. One of the audience, however, caught sight of his easily recognisable face. There was a shout of “Scott,” which was taken up rapturously all over the house, and the critic was forced to bow his acknowledgements. That, I suppose, will be Mr. Scott’s answer to Dramatist Buchanan.

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The Nottingham Evening Post (14 May, 1894 - p.2)

MR. SCOTT AND MR. BUCHANAN.

The appearance of Mr. Clement Scott in a private box at the Adelphi just before the rising of the curtain upon “The Two Orphans” on Saturday evening was the signal for a prolonged and friendly demonstration from various parts of the crowded house, which apparently had reference to the speech of Mr. Robert Buchanan at the Opera Comique, published, with the suppression, however, of some angry passages, in the papers of that day. This does not look as if Mr. Scott’s reputation had suffered much injury from Mr. Buchanan’s excited and intemperate language—which indeed was rather of the nature of that mere “abuse” which our courts of law are wont to distinguish from actionable or indictable slander.

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The Sheffield Evening Telegraph and Star (14 May, 1894 - p.2)

PLAYWRIGHT AND CRITIC.

A NEW phase of the relations of playwright and critic was displayed on Friday evening at the Opera Comique. Mr. Robert Buchanan, one of the best known authors and playwrights of the day, in conjunction with a lesser light of the literary firmament, wrote a play entitled “The Society Butterfly,” in which Mrs. Langtry made her re-appearance after a lengthy absence from the stage. From the criticisms which appeared in the Press on the production of the play it did not appear that “A Society Butterfly” had any strong recommendations to public favour, nor that it was received with more than bare indulgence by the first night audience. The notices were not such as to persuade the public at large to flock to the theatre, and those persons who seek such advice in the matter of their amusements would probably be incited to stay away. Such notices are apt to be the lot of every theatrical manager and of every author. In the theatrical world the best laid plans oft gang agley. To deserve success is by no means to ensure it. Pieces on which thousands of pounds have been lavished have been played to empty houses for a fortnight, and then disappeared into that oblivion which overtakes the unfortunate. Plays into which authors have striven to put their best, and which have represented months of anxious and diligent labour, have been condemned by unsympathetic audiences and stern critics. It is the fortune of war. Mr. Buchanan, who ought by now to be perfectly pachydermatous, for no man living has had more bricks thrown at him, resents one of the critiques on “The Society Butterfly”—the critique written by a man as well known as himself—Mr. Clement Scott. Mr. Buchanan took the unusual step of coming before the curtain on Friday night to draw the attention of the audience to this notice and to denounce it in no measured terms. It was, Mr. Buchanan insinuated, unfair and malignant; he accused Mr. Scott, to whom he sarcastically alluded as “the writer of crude verses for the music halls,” of having again and again gone out of his way to abuse his work; and he finished up his speech with the announcement of his desire to publicly express his opinion that Mr. Scott is “an egotistical and spiteful writer.” There can be no question that Mr. Buchanan had lost his temper, and with his temper his discretion. Mr. Clement Scott is probably the most able theatrical critic of the day, and it is absurd to suppose that he would imperil his character for impartiality by prejudiced and groundless attacks on any playwright. Mr. Buchanan’s procedure is better than the personal violence to which playwrights and actors who have fancied themselves aggrieved have been known to resort, but it cannot be characterised as wise. Mr. Clement Scott can afford to disregard the attack made on his integrity; and Mr. Buchanan has merely made a public display of a little temper.

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(p.3)

LONDON LETTER.
[FROM VARIOUS SOURCES.]

. . .

THE HISSING OF MRS. LANGTRY.

Mr. Robert Buchanan, in his eagerness to single out Mr. Clement Scott from the army of dramatic critics who have spoken slightingly of “A Society Butterfly,” has begun badly, for he has so shaped his challenge to mortal combat as not only to make people smile when he expected them to be awed and serious, but he has turned the laugh against himself. For, in order to refute Mr. Clement Scott’s kindly attempt to draw a veil over the hostile reception accorded to the play on the first night, Mr. Buchanan sets himself to prove that, instead of quietly withdrawing from a performance that bored them, the audience remained to make “the most unseemly demonstration that ever took place even in a theatre.” He is amusingly furious at Mr. Scott for saying “there was no fuss, no fury, no gibes, no cat-calls.” He insists that, on the contrary, the leading actress was “howled and hooted.” Of course, Mr. Buchanan attributes this, not to the whole house but to “a cabal,” not to any shortcomings on the part of actress or authors, but to spite. The performance has given such universal dissatisfaction as to make Mr. Buchanan’s indignation a striking illustration of the unwisdom of displaying “perfect indifference to criticism” by running amuck at the critics. In such cases it is the head of the Malay that suffers most.

DRAMATIC CRITICISM IN LONDON.

A well-known writer says:—Mr. Buchanan’s action has been greatly wanting in dignity. At the same time dramatic criticism in London has got into a very unhealthy condition. For some time it has been undermined by theorists and what, I presume, amy be called schools of dramatic thought; and Mr. William Archer’s appeal to the critics this month to show a little more mercy to dramas of fair average merit, lest they should unwittingly kill some plays of real power, is not without justification.

MR. SCOTT CHEERED.

Another correspondent writes:—The astounding attack made before the curtain at the Opera Comique on Friday night, after the second performance of “A Society Butterfly,”| by Mr. Buchanan upon Mr. Clement Scott, the leading dramatic critic of the “Daily Telegraph,” has aroused much feeling among play-lovers here. Mr. Scott, genially enough, is prepared to laugh at the ebullition of temper; but those theatregoers who appreciate his worth are evidently unwilling to take matters so quietly, and, upon his entering a box at the Adelphi on Saturday night, cheering was to be heard from all parts of the house. The public, in fact, recognise that honest and effective dramatic criticism would become impossible if every author of an unsuccessful play were to attack the critic by name, and load him with opprobrious and insulting expressions at a time and in a place which prevented reply.

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The Dundee Courier (14 May, 1894 - p.5)

OUR LONDON LETTER.
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A DRAMATIC QUARREL.

57 FLEET STREET, E.C.,
Sunday Evening.

The quarrel between Mr Robert Buchanan and Mr Clement Scott over the criticism by the latter of the former’s drama, “A Society Butterfly,” is to be referred for adjustment to a council of friends. Dramatic quarrels are becoming, in fact have become, a little tiresome. Sometimes the disturbance rages among the critics themselves, but there is always a storm of some kind, either active or brewing. The public usually judge of the play for themselves, and generally judge rightly, but nevertheless, and notwithstanding the vote of “no confidence” implied in this rebuke of the critics, the latter in some notable individual instances bear themselves with the demeanour of Cabinet Ministers. In fact, we may be said to have a Cabinet and an Opposition in dramatic criticism and dramatic construction. The world could get on very well without this Parliament of mutual vilipendists.

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The Western Morning News (14 May, 1894 - p.5)

I strongly commend to theatrical managers anxious to secure a second night audience the example set to them by Mr. Robert Buchanan. A criticism from the stage of the notices which appeared in the morning papers of the first performance of the previous night would be a notable departure in theatrical enterprise, and should not fail to ensure the attendance of many persons to whom this novelty and not the play would be the principal attraction. Of course Mr. Buchanan began his harangue on Friday night with the inevitable remark that he and his co-author are “perfectly indifferent to criticism,” that is to say, “when criticism is fair.” The great question is who is to be the judge of its “fairness.” Mr. Buchanan seems to think that the author himself is the best authority on this point, and so perhaps do many of his colleagues, but it will be difficult to convert the public to the same opinion. Anyway, playwrights can scarcely expect us to believe in their indifference to criticism when they avail themselves of the opportunity to rail over the footlights as Mr. Buchanan did on Friday.
It is evident that the quarrel between the part author of “A Society Butterfly” and Mr. Clement Scott is of old standing, for, according to the former, this is not the first time the writer of the unfavourable notice has endeavoured to do him “personal injury.” Therefore, in the course of a long harangue to the audience, Mr. Buchanan stated from the stage that Mr. Scott is an “egotistical and spiteful writer,” the author of “deliberate and malignant misstatements,” “foolish verses,” “crude adaptations,” and so on. Taking one thing with another, I am rather inclined to think that audiences would find it rather a nuisance if this precedent were generally adopted. They could not well refuse to listen to the irate playwright or manager, however much they might agree with the critic. Moreover, suppose the latter chose to get up and have his say also!

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The Leeds Mercury (14 May, 1894 - p,5)

MR. CLEMENT SCOTT’S REPLY TO MR. BUCHANAN.

The “Morning” says — Mr. Robert Buchanan’s comments on the newspaper criticism of “A Society Butterfly,” and his personal attack on Mr. Clement Scott, the dramatic critic of the “Daily Telegraph,” have created quite a stir, not only in theatrical and literary circles, but also among theatre-goers generally. A “Morning” representative, who saw Mr. Clement Scott on Saturday, asked that gentleman whether he intended responding to Mr. Buchanan’s challenge. “Very much so,” said Mr. Scott. “I shall probably take criminal proceedings. Sir George Lewis is out of town, so I cannot say how far the matter may go; but in all likelihood there will also be a couple of civil actions against other parties. Buchanan denies that any of the audience left the house before the end of the piece on the first night. My answer is that I can actually name a good many who left.” “Have you had any personal quarrel with Mr. Buchanan?” “Nothing personal whatever; but in the ordinary course of my duties I sometimes find myself unconsciously quarrelling with writers of plays that I cannot conscientiously eulogise. But I am glad to say that these quarrels are, as a rule, only temporary and local.”

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The Newcastle Daily Chronicle (14 May, 1894 - p.4)

Dramatists and Critics.

It seems that on the second performance of a “Society Butterfly,” Mr. Robert Buchanan, one of the authors of the piece, took the very unusual course of addressing the audience, and complaining to them of the manner in which the play had been criticized by Mr. Clement Scott. This gentleman was mentioned by name, and Mr. Buchanan’s remarks were frankly directed at him. Apart from the doubtful wisdom of such a proceeding, there is some difficulty in understanding why Mr. Clement Scott should have been singled out from the rest of dramatic critics. As a matter of fact, there was a striking unanimity of opinion in the London press respecting the merits of a “Society Butterfly.” Rightly or wrongly, all the critics said much the same thing about it.

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The Star (15 May, 1894 - p.2)

BUCHANAN v. SCOTT.

The Authors of “A Society Butterfly”
Challenge the “D.T.” Critic to a Law Fight.

TO THE EDITOR OF “THE STAR.”

SIR,—May I ask you to correct the statement made in the Pall Mall Gazette that my address to the audience at the Opera Comique on Friday evening contained an attack on the private character and habits of Mr. Clement Scott? Of this critic’s private character I know nothing, save by hearsay; of his habits in private life I know even less. I judge him entirely on his public record as a critic, and by acts which are publicly notorious. If he were a very saint at the fireside, and as good to his own flesh and blood as even Heine, that would not alter my opinion concerning his conduct in his profession. In denouncing him from the public stage, I adopted the only course open to an author who had been made the victim of a most cowardly newspaper libel. On a former occasion, when I had been insulted in the columns of the Daily Telegraph, the

EDITOR SUPPRESSED MY PROTEST,

and when I endeavored to communicate the fact to the other newspapers I was met by the reply that “the proper channel for explanation was the newspaper in which the criticism had appeared.” This is the old familiar device of editors, who are either too interested or too timid to expose each other. But my words, having been spoken, have now been cabled through the length and breadth of the country, its colonies and America. I have accused Mr. Clement Scott of malignant and spiteful falsehood. I have described him as a man “without conscience, without veracity, and without honor.” I have said that he abuses actresses who have fallen out of his good graces, and that, presuming on his influence as a critic, he hawks his own adaptations of French plays from theatre to theatre. In reply to all this, he expresses his opinion (through a contemporary) that it is “only my fun,” and that we shall presently be

“AS GOOD FRIENDS AS EVER.”

I expected neither more nor less from Mr. Clement Scott. His only reply to my denunciations should be in the law courts of this country. If he refuses to meet me there on his own initiative he proves himself to be, not only what I have described him, but a coward into the bargain; and no shuffling on his part. no flabby protestations of good humor, no feeble assumptions of indifference, will save him from public derision and contempt. My charges were not merely general, but specific. I am ready and willing to substantiate them, and to prove his personal malice by absolute evidence, and now, for the last time, I ask him to give me the opportunity. Should he still refuse I will make that opportunity a necessity.—Yours, &c.,

ROBERT BUCHANAN.

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SIR,—Anything quite so ludicrous as the attitude of saintly magnanimity taken up by Mr. Clement Scott to the representative of a contemporary has not come under my notice for a long time. From the stage of a West-end theatre, and in the presence of a crowded audience, Mr. Buchanan insulted Mr. Scott in terms which would be resented by a crossing-sweeper. That, says Mr. Scott, is Mr. Buchanan’s fun. I endorsed the insult in the clearest words I could find. That was my fun, I suppose; and when the house cheered the reiterated insult to the echo, and gave Mrs. Langtry a ringing recall, in compensation of the outrage of the previous evening, that was their way of being funny! Well, Mr. Scott has as good a right to his conception of humor as I have to mine, let these conceptions differ as widely as they may. Mr. Scott says that he and Mr. Buchanan are old friends, and that they will continue to be friends in spite of what happened on Friday night. That, of course, is no affair of mine, but I may remark en passant that Mr. Scott and myself are perfect strangers, that I long ago formed my opinion of his public character, and have, on several occasions,

DECLINED TO MAKE HIS ACQUAINTANCE,

so that he is under no sort of obligation to extend his supernatural forgiveness to me. Like John Westlock, I decline to be forgiven, though Mr. Scott is free to imitate Mr. Pecksniff if he chooses, and to continue to be magnanimous.
Let me add that I am perfectly and absolutely indifferent to any criticism which does not come from a man I consider my superior. There are one or two gentlemen on the critical Press to whose opinion, however widely it may differ from my own, I listen with respect, but Mr. Scoit is not among them. Nor do I believe that all the critical slate or critical puffery in the world can either make or mar the success of any piece. If the public wants to see “A Society Butterfly” it will see it, and if it doesn’t it won’t. How men of the intelligence of Mr. William Archer and Mr. Nisbett can regard their critical functions with

SUCH LUDICROUS SOLEMNITY

I cannot understand. An American gentleman explained his incredulity regarding a rather tough story by the simple confession that he was “a bit of a liar himself!” I have been a dramatic critic, and exercised my critical acumen for the advantage of a leading London daily of enormous circulation before I had ever crossed the threshold of a stage door, and when I didn’t know a batten from a bunch-light. An experience like that naturally appeals to the overmastering sense of humor which Mr. Scott so much admires in me, and I find it difficult to retain the gaiety proper to a good augur. I find it more difficult every year, for every year pieces slated by the Press are praised by the public, and vice versa. Again I say that the Press can neither make nor mar a dramatic entertainment. They can make either success or failure a little more rapid, but no piece succeeds or fails by any other verdict than that of the great public.—Yours, &c.,

HENRY MURRAY.

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The Bristol Mercury (15 May, 1894 - p.3)

A SOCIETY BUTTERFLY.

The new play written by Mr Robert Buchanan and Mr Henry Murray for Mrs Langtry was produced on Thursday at the Opera Comique, and on the following evening Mr Buchanan came in front of the curtain and made a savage onslaught on Mr Clement Scott because of a notice which had appeared in the “Daily Telegraph.” If the distinguished critic were as tyrannical and unjust as those who disagree with his judgments upon their efforts think, they could not devise a better method of adding to his power than this sort of demonstration. It so happens that a member of the BRISTOL MERCURY staff, ever on the lookout for a new experience, joined the crowd at the doors of the Opera Comique and found a place in the front row of the pit circle, next to a box in which Mrs Bernard Beere was seated. The following is his description of the performance:—The curtain rose on a very pretty scene, the gardens of Mrs Courtlandt Parke’s bungalow on the banks of the Thames. This lady (Miss E. R. Sheridan) is a somewhat dubious American widow and is carrying on a flirtation with Charles Dudley (Mr W. Herbert), a stockbroker, whom she knows to be married. Mrs Dudley (Mrs Langtry) has discovered her husband’s defection, and overhears him telling his new flame that he is weary of the unalloyed domesticity of his married life. In the second act we find her in her own drawing-room, a full- fledged society beauty, with her photograph everywhere, and about to play Aphrodite, in a costume which it is said has come home in a glove box, for a play on the Judgment of Paris. Her husband is furious with jealousy, although she quotes “Francillon” freely enough for him to see her motive. The third act passes in the Duchess of Newhaven’s drawing-room, where a stage has been set, and where the classic drama before mentioned is performed. This is followed by a music hall entertainment, at which little tables are placed between the seats and the guests pay for their own refreshments, while two gorgeous flunkeys put up the numbers each side of the proscenium as in a real hall. The Adelphi guests, after some crude satire upon Ibsenism, discuss some surprise that Mrs Dudley has in store, and at last the curtain is drawn up, revealing Mrs Langtry as Godiva on her way to take her famous ride through Coventry, and just carrying in front of her a blue saddle cloth, apparently for her horse. This was vigorously hissed by the audience, and in my judgment very properly so. The last act is again in Mrs Dudley’s house, the evening after this party. She has not returned, and he puts the worst construction on the fact, although she has only remained with the Duchess. He announces his intention of leaving her and going abroad, whereupon she says she will quit the house when he does and will accept no allowance, her contention being throughout the piece that the woman is entitled to the same liberty as the man. She appeals to Captain Belton (Mr F. Kerr), an odd creature who would attract no woman’s heart, to prove his protestations of love and fly with her to the isles of the Pacific. He, of course, is afraid of what people would say, and will have nothing to do with it. We have seen from the first act that husband and wife would kiss and make it up, but it is surely conventional and antiquated, as well as unjust, for the wife to be made to ask forgiveness.
After the piece was over the gallery called the authors, and then soundly hissed them. This was a needless cruelty, but Mr Buchanan took it good humouredly, and put up his glasses to peer at his tormentors. He did not, however, show the same discretion the next night, but violently assailed Mr Clement Scott for saying the play was without interest and that the audience quietly folded their seats and stole away. This, Mr Buchanan says, is absolutely false, and the “whole audience remained seated till the fall of the curtain.” I have no interest one way or the other, but Mr Scott is absolutely right. At the start the stalls were so crowded that an extra row of chairs was placed along the front, but after the third act they thinned very materially, and I looked down upon a number of empty chairs. My own neighbour declined to see any more of such a play, and went out before the last act. Then Mr Buchanan says, referring to the gallery, “There was the most unseemly demonstration that ever took place even in a theatre. A cabal was there to insult and terrify a helpless woman. Throughout the play an attempt was made to twist every inherent reference into a personal imputation.” I am bound to say that this is rank nonsense. The audience was good humoured, but the piece absolutely failed to rouse them from a state of indifference. Miss Rose Leclercq, as the impossible Duchess, was the only performer who gave us really powerful acting, and she was warmly cheered. More than once Mrs Langtry gained applause, and once even in the last act after the Lady Godiva business. The gallery hissed at times and yelled at times, but no longer than a hearty burst of applause would take, and this Mr Buchanan would not denounce. In fact, there was no real interruption of the performance at any point. When Mrs Langtry is complaining of her husband’s goings on, she is asked “Have you never been skittish yourself?” It must have been foreseen that such a passage as this would evoke a ribald laugh at the expense of “Mr Jersey.” Then a young lord reads some verses he has written on the rising of Aphrodite, minutely detailing her charms and stating twice that she was naked. He then turns round to assure his mother that the information was derived from his inner consciousness. At this there was a shout of derision, but was the audience to blame? In the fourth act the husband says, “My patience is exhausted.” “So’s ours,” retorted a ready wit from the gallery. The waits were terribly long owing to the gorgeous dresses Mrs Langtry wore, and a very feeble band irritated with trivial tunes. The gods hissed them to silence, and then cheered them for their compliance, whilst one humourist asked for the last verse again. In short “A Society Butterfly” was crude and failed to please, and I think a cabman, speaking to his fare as I came out, accurately summed up the position, “That Lady Godiver finished it, sir!”

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The Western Times (15 May, 1894 - p.8)

LONDON CORRESPONDENCE.
(SPECIAL TELEGRAM.)

LONDON, Monday Night.

. . .

   Another illustration of the present day mania for rushing into the Law Courts with screams that legitimate criticism is libel, is to be found in Mr. Clement Scott’s intimation that he is seriously considering the desirability of bringing an action against Mr. Robert Buchanan for his retort on the critic of “A Society Butterfly.”
   Nay Mr. Scott goes further and says he shall probably take criminal proceedings, which quite confirms his assertion that his solicitor is out of town, for one of the first things Mr. George Lewis will have impressed upon him is that bad as our libel laws are they at least do not allow criminal proceedings to be based upon such things as are said in an exchange of compliments between an aggrieved dramatist and an appointed critic.
   It is understood that Mr. Buchanan also thirsts to implead his antagonist before a judge. Trade is so bad among lawyers just now that perhaps it would be cruel to deter those fierce dramatists from transferring the entertainment they provide for us from the boards of a Theatre to the floors of a Law Court.

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Western Mail (15 May, 1894 - p.4)

LONDON LETTER.
[FROM OUR LONDON CORRESPONDENTS.]

LONDON, MONDAY.

. . .

AUTHOR AND CRITIC.

Mr. Robert Buchanan and Mr. Clement Scott are at daggers drawn. The people’s critic thought himself justified last week in throwing cold water on Mrs. Langtry and “The Society Butterfly,” whereupon Mr. Buchanan, part-author of the drama, read from the stage the next night a manifesto, in which he accused the critic of being a spiteful writer, who had distorted facts, and also who had made an attack upon a defenceless woman. Indiscreet, undoubtedly, this action was. Mr. Scott now seeks legal redress, and unless a settlement is arrived at we shall have an interesting case heard in the law courts. The principal sentence in the critique to which Mr. Buchanan takes exception states that “a very courteous and considerate audience did not hiss the play or linger too long on its unfortunate social solecisms, or treat with scorn incidents and interludes that failed purely from want of judgment and experienced knowledge of the stage. . . . . Wearied playgoers simply went out. They folded their seats in depression and silently stole away. There was no fuss, no fury, no gibes, no cat-calls; the audience merely melted and disappeared.” This statement Mr. Buchanan meets with a flat contradiction, and in addition in calling the writer egotistical and spiteful, makes the assertion that he is fond of attacking defenceless women. Mr. Scott replies that he can actually name a good many who left; that he did not “slate” the play as he might have done, and as to his attacking a defenceless woman, that to him seems a piece of clap-trap. Mr. George Lewis, who is at present out of town, will have his say next.

THE AMERICAN CUSTOM.

Mr. Scott, in his notice, speaks of the audience following an American custom in silently leaving the theatre. This may be the modern custom, but not long ago the American male disgusted with the performance would throw himself back in his seat and put his legs high on the opposite seat. When the performers gazed into the auditorium and saw rows of boots on view they prepared for the worst, and came down next morning to rehearse a new piece.

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The Sheffield Evening Telegraph and Star (16 May, 1894 - p.3)

THE BUCHANAN-SCOTT SQUABBLE.

Mr. Robert Buchanan is endeavouring to force Mr. Clement Scott to “show his hand,” by taking an action for libel against his dramatic assailant. Buchanan has addressed a violent letter to one of the evening newspapers. His tone is as uncompromising as its object is patent. “Shuffler,” “coward,” with open imputations upon Mr. Scott’s “honour” and “veracity,” are among Mr. Buchanan’s choicer temptations to an action for slander. It will be difficult for Mr. Scott to avoid accepting the challenge.

. . .

BREAKING A BUTTERFLY.

Mr. Scott, Mr. Buchanan. Gentlemen? Remember that between you you are breaking a butterfly.—“Man of the World.”

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The World (16 May, 1894 - pp.14-15)

There is a charming eclecticism about A Society Butterfly, the “New and Original Comedy of Modern Life,” by Messrs. Robert Buchanan and Henry Murray, produced last week at the Opera Comique. It somehow suggested a revue in which all the plays, not only of the season, but of the age, were stirred up together in a monster medley. The authors avowed, in a certain sense, their obligations to Françillon, while broadly hinting that they meant to write the play Dumas ought to have written. They did not mention their annexation of the rehearsal scene from Frou-frou, holding, no doubt, that the thing was too obvious to call for remark. So it was, of course. When one quotes “The quality of mercy is not strained,” or “The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,” one does not feel bound to add (Shakespeare) or (Gray) on pain of an accusation of plagiarism. The only wonder was that the characters concerned—Captain Belton and Mrs. Dudley—did not seem to remember that they had seen all this before, at the theatre. Mrs. Dudley’s tirade on marriage occurs in substance in Françillon, but in form it rather suggested Cyprienne’s great outburst in Divorçons. The sporting Duchess is evidently introduced out of compliment to Mr. Pinero; but the authors do not seem quite to have realised that the humour of “George Tidd” in Dandy Dick lies in the contrast between her stable slang and the severely ecclesiastical atmosphere of the Deanery. Here there is no such contrast, and to make up for its absence the authors have mixed their slang into a much thicker and coarser “mash,” as her Grace would say. Except, perhaps, “Yes” and “No,” she utters not a word that does not reek of the loose-box. She is really more akin to the “Shiver-my-timbers” Jack Tars of forgotten nautical melodramas than to ay character of rational farce. Her “Home for Decayed Jockeys,” by the way, was anticipated by Mr. Spence-Jermyn in The Hobby Horse. The play, then, is practically Françillon writ tedious, eked out with reminiscences from a host of other plays, and spiced with an abundance of satirical allusions in Mr. Buchanan’s well-known style. As it is one of my most cherished principles that the true artist should, or rather must, write primarily to please himself, I am bound to approve Mr. Buchanan’s satire, which evidently delights him, and him alone. When an author crams his work with satirical “hits” which very few understand and no one cares about, it is impossible not to admire his devotion to his ideal. For example, how many people understood what Mr. Buchanan was driving at in the chatter about Mrs. Harkaway’s Last Divorce? And how many of those who recognised the sneer at The Second Mrs. Tanqueray were in the smallest degree entertained or gratified by it? There was a good deal of weird talk, too, about an alcoholic German masterpiece, from which I conjecture that Mr. Buchanan has been reading Gerhart Hauptmann’s Von Sonnenaufgang. I, too, happened to have read the play; but it is a hundred to one that not another soul in the audience had the slightest idea what “Herr Max” was talking about. Mr. Buchanan and I, then, had the joke all to ourselves, and of course we relished it hugely; but the rest of the audience must have wondered what we were chuckling at, and felt rather “out of it.” And perhaps, after all, it was not Von Sonnenaufgang that Mr. Buchanan was aiming at; in which case he succeeded in keeping the drift of his satire entirely to himself, and realised to the full the great principle of “Art for the Artist.” The audience, irritated by long waits,. was inclined to resent these cryptic allusions, and the gallery audibly expressed its disappointment in a play in which everything is “taken off”—except Lady Godiva’s mantle. Simply as an emotional comedy, and apart from its satiric pretensions, the play is neither better nor worse than a good many that one sees, and might have passed muster fairly enough. Mrs. Langtry wore several gorgeous and one or two really beautiful dresses, but her powers of dramatic expression seemed to have grown a little rusty in retirement. Miss Rose Leclercq was exceedingly good as the Duchess of Tattersall’s; Mr. F. Kerr played a difficult part with discreet humour; and Mr. W. Herbert, Mr. Allan Beaumont, and Mr. Edward Rose all made the most of their opportunities.

W. A.

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From The Theatrical ‘World’ of 1894 by William Archer (London: Walter Scott, Ltd., 1895 - p. 147-150)

“A SOCIETY BUTTERFLY.”

16 May.

There is a charming eclecticism about A Society Butterfly* the “New and Original Comedy of Modern Life,” by Messrs Robert Buchanan and Henry Murray, produced last week at the Opera Comique. It somehow suggested a revue in which all the plays, not only of the season, but of the age, were stirred up together in a monster medley. The authors avowed, in a certain sense, their obligations to Francillon, while broadly hinting that they meant to write the play Dumas ought to have written. They did not mention their annexation of the rehearsal scene from Frou-frou, holding, no doubt, that the thing was too obvious to call for remark. So it was, of course. When one quotes “The quality of mercy is not strained,” or “The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,” one does not feel bound to add (Shakespeare) or (Gray) on pain of an accusation of plagiarism. The only wonder was that the characters concerned—Captain Belton and Mrs Dudley—did not seem to remember that they had seen all this before, at the theatre. Mrs Dudley’s tirade on marriage occurs in substance in Francillon, but in form it rather suggested Cyprienne’s great outburst in Divorçons. The sporting Duchess is evidently introduced out of compliment to Mr Pinero; but the authors do not seem quite to have realised that the humour of “George Tidd” in Dandy Dick lies in the contrast between her stable slang and the severely ecclesiastical atmosphere of the Deanery. Here there is no such contrast, and to make up for its absence the authors have mixed their slang into a much thicker and coarser “mash,” as her Grace would say. Except, perhaps, “Yes” and “No,” she utters not a word that does not reek of the loose-box. She is really more akin to the “Shiver-my-timbers” Jack Tars of forgotten nautical melodramas than to any character of rational farce. Her “Home for Decayed Jockeys,” by the way, was anticipated by Mr Spencer-Jermyn in The Hobby Horse. The play, then, is practically Francillon writ tedious, eked out with reminiscences from a host of other plays, and spiced with an abundance of satirical allusions in Mr Buchanan’s well- known style. As it is one of my most cherished principles that the true artist should, or rather must, write primarily to please himself, I am bound to approve Mr Buchanan’s satire, which evidently delights him—and him alone. When an author crams his works with satirical “hits” which very few understand and no one cares about, it is impossible not to admire his devotion to his ideal. For example, how many persons understood what Mr Buchanan was driving at in the chatter about Mrs Harkaway’s Last Divorce? And how many of those who recognised the sneer at The Second Mrs Tanqueray were in the smallest degree entertained or gratified by it? There was a good deal of weird talk, too, about an alcoholic German masterpiece, from which I conjecture that Mr Buchanan has been reading Gerhart Hauptmann’s Vor Sonnenaufgang. I too happened to have read the play; but it is a hundred to one that not another soul in the audience had the slightest idea what “Herr Max” was talking about. Mr Buchanan and I, then, had the joke all to ourselves, and of course we relished it hugely; but the rest of the audience must have wondered what we were chuckling at, and felt rather “out of it.” And perhaps, after all, it was not Vor Sonnenaufgang that Mr Buchanan was aiming at; in which case he succeeded in keeping the drift of his satire entirely to himself, and realised to the full the great principle of “Art for the Artist.” The audience, irritated by long waits, was inclined to resent these cryptic allusions, and the gallery audibly expressed its disappointment in a play in which everything is “taken off”—except Lady Godiva’s mantle. Simply as an emotional comedy, and apart from its satiric pretensions, the play is neither better nor worse than a good many that one sees, and might have passed muster fairly enough. Mrs Langtry wore several gorgeous and one or two really beautiful dresses, but her powers of dramatic expression seemed to have grown a little rusty in retirement. Miss Rose Leclercq was exceedingly good as the Duchess of Tattersall’s; Mr F. Kerr played a difficult part with discreet humour; and Mr W. Herbert, Mr Allan Beaumont, and Mr Edward Rose all made the most of their opportunities.

* May 10—June 22. On the second night, Mr Robert Buchanan, seconded by his collaborator, read from the stage Mr Clement Scott’s Daily Telegraph notice of the play, and made a vehement retort.

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The Sketch (16 May, 1894 - pp. 116-117)

The Stage (17 May, 1894 - p.12)

THE OPERA COMIQUE.

On Thursday evening, May 10, 1894, was produced a new and original four-act comedy of modern life, written by Robert Buchanan and Henry Murray, entitled:—

A Society Butterfly.

Mr. Charles Dudley ... ... Mr. William Herbert
Dr. Coppée ... ... Mr. Allan Beaumont
Captain Belton ... ... Mr. F. Kerr
Lord Augustus Leith ... ... Mr. Edward Rose
Major Craigeldie ... ... Mr. Henry J. Carvill
Lord Ventnor ... ... Mr. S. Jerram
Herr Max ... ... Mr. H. Templeton
Bangle ... ... Mr. Chas. R. Stuart
The Duchess of Newhaven ... Miss Rose Leclercq
Lady Milwood ... ... Miss Walsingham
Hon. Mrs. Stanley ... ... Miss Lyddie Morand
Mrs. Courtlandt Parke ... ... Miss E. B. Sheridan
Miss Staten ... ... Miss Ethel Norton
Rose ... ... Miss Eva Williams
Marsh ... ... Miss Eva Vernon
Mrs. Dudley ... ... Mrs. Langtry

Characters in the Intermezzo.

Hera ... ... Miss Walsingham
Pallas ... ... Miss Lyddie Morand
Œnone ... ... Miss Gladys Evisson
Paris ... ... Mr. F. Kerr
Aphrodite ... ... Mrs. Langtry

It was evident on Thursday evening that A Society Butterfly would not have been received as it was had it been better prepared. It required further rehearsal, and the long waits between some of the acts were ill-passed, in consequence of the orchestra also requiring more attention to its music. The subject of a man being attracted away from his wife by a fascinating woman, and afterwards, in consequence of a game at diamond cut diamond, being restored to his lawful spouse, is not new, but it has possibilities, of which the dramatists have not taken full advantage. A Society Butterfly appears as if it had been written with the intention of providing a special part for Mrs. Langtry. But herein it suffers, for Mrs. Langtry has not, it must be confessed, improved as an actress. The first act of A Society Butterfly takes place at Mrs. Courtlandt Parke’s bungalow on the banks of the Thames. Mr. Charles Dudley has become fascinated with the hostess, and his wife, having become informed of his behaviour, determines to pay him back in his own coin. She therefore places herself in the hands of Captain Belton, and the act is concluded with her leaving the scene under that gentleman’s escort, much to the chagrin of her husband. In the second act, which is located in Dudley’s house in Belgravia, Mrs. Dudley has, under advice, determined upon her line of conduct. She is now a woman of fashion— interviewed by society papers, photographed, and much sought after. Dudley has given her to understand that his indifference has arisen in consequence of her domesticity, so she has made up her mind that he shall have no further cause for complaint in that quarter. Accordingly she throws house duties to the winds, and goes helter-skelter into the vortex of society. A play is to be presented by amateurs, and Mrs. Dudley and Captain Belton rehearse a love scene in it with, so far as the gentleman is concerned, unusual warmth. This scene is reminiscent of a similar scene in Frou-Frou, but on Thursday it gave opportunity for Mrs. Langtry and Mr. Frederick Kerr to be at their best. It was naturally and effectively played. The husband overhears a portion of the dialogue, and, finding his wife’s affection slipping from him, endeavours to bring her again to his side, but without success. In the next act a variety entertainment is supposed to be given in the drawing-room of the Duchess of Newhaven. A stage is fitted and, after the manner of variety theatres, the numbers of each turn are exhibited at either side of its proscenium, where they are placed by two liveried attendants. The drawing-room itself is filled with guests, who are permitted to enjoy themselves in a somewhat free and easy manner, so as to simulate as much as is possible the habits of variety theatre habitués. In the entertainment given are imitations of Mr. Beerbohm Tree and Mr. Arthur Roberts, and several tableaux, among the latter being a scene from As You Like It, and one said to be descriptive of Lady Godiva. The unfortunate husband, Dudley, is by this time almost wild with jealousy, and a climax to his matrimonial arrangements is a necessity. In the last act, in Dudley’s house, the climax is arrived at. The Duchess of Newhaven, finding that her son (Captain Belton) is not carrying on a mere flirtation, but is endeavouring to persuade Mrs. Dudley to place her future in his hands, very sensibly brings the young gentleman to his knees. This is a cleverly-worked-out scene, and had the remainder of the play been equal to it, an undoubted success would have followed. The Duchess pretends to persuade her son, if he is so inclined, to run away with Mrs. Dudley to some distant country, where he could live without drawing upon her (the Duchess’s) purse. This brings Belton to his senses, or rather proves what a selfish prig he is, for he has never dreamed of his allowance being stopped, and very speedily he comes to the conclusion that the game he is carrying on is not worth the candle. When, therefore, he finds that Mrs. Dudley, disgusted with herself and the world, is ready to trust her body and soul to him, he draws back. If she will accept him as a lover in her husband’s house, well and good; but as to going abroad with him, when by such an act he will cease to receive his mother’s money, that is not to be thought of. There is some good in Mrs. Dudley after all, and when the selfish nature of the man is thus exhibited to her, she sees the trap into which she has nearly fallen, and like a sensible woman turns to her husband. Thanks to the good-angel services rendered by Dr. Coppée, Mrs. Dudley is reconciled to her loving husband, whose flirtation with Mrs. Courtlandt Parke, serious as it at first appeared, is proved to be of little account. Mutual confessions follow, and on the reunion of husband and wife the curtain falls.
Mrs. Langtry was magnificently attired, and, loaded as she was with diamonds in one scene, looked exceedingly well. But the audience wanted acting, and but little of that was given them. As the husband Mr. William Herbert was not at all what was necessary. His performance was lacking in fire, in intensity. His Dudley was but a mild, middle-class man, with little or no fervour in his composition. The Belton of Mr. F. Kerr likewise was disappointing. It was difficult to understand how such a man as the actor portrayed could overcome the scruples of Mrs. Dudley, and excite in her any feeling of admiration or fascination. Surely the part requires to be played with a greater indication of passion and lover- like determination than were imparted by Mr. Kerr? Mr. Allan Beaumont was fairly good as Dr. Coppée—which, by the way, he made up after the fashion of a well-known French politician now resident in England. A verse-writing nincompoop was well played by Mr. Edward Rose, Mr. S. Jerram was gentlemanly and agreeable as Lord Ventnor, and smaller male characters were more or less well looked after by those mentioned in the cast. The success of the evening fell to the share of Miss Rose Leclercq, whose Duchess was a delightfully good impersonation. It was not the fault of the actress that the character was somewhat exaggerated by its authors, but to her credit that she did so well with her opportunities. Miss E. B. Sheridan, too, deserves warm praise for her pretty and graceful portrait of Mrs. Courtlandt Parke. She wore her dresses with distinction, and if at times she failed to maintain the American dialect associated with the part, she was certainly always pleasant and agreeable, and of great value to the piece. Miss Staten, a female journalist, was smartly enacted by Miss Ethel Norton, and Miss Eva Williams as a French maid was pretty to look upon, and quite equal to her task. The As You Like It tableau was well arranged and very effective, but surely the stage- management of the act in which this scene occurs would be better for revision. Why should a lady in short skirts be permitted to cross the stage, so that comments upon her attire may be made by the drawing-room audience who are supposed to be waiting for her turn on the mimic stage? Why introduced at all, when she does not appear on the mimic stage? The scenery was good and appropriate. At the final fall of the curtain Messrs. Buchanan and Murray appeared in response to calls of “authors,” and were not too well received. Mr. Buchanan, however, seemed to enjoy his reception, if we may judge from the fact that after he had carefully adjusted his glasses, and gazed at the gallery, he kissed his hand to the “booing gods.”

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The Stage (17 May, 1894 - p.11)

CHIT CHAT

The petty quarrel between Messrs. Robert Buchanan and Henry Murray on the one hand, and Mr. Clement Scott on the other, relative to a criticism of A Society Butterfly which appeared in the Daily Telegraph, needs but little comment here. It will probably find its way into the Law Courts, where the parties concerned will fight the matter out. A Society Butterfly was produced last Thursday night at the Opera Comique, and feeling hurt at the D. T. criticism on the following morning, the authors addressed the audience in the theatre at night anent their grievance. Mr. Buchanan, in his speech, said he did not object to fair and legitimate criticism, but he did object to inaccurate statements, of which he accused Mr. Scott of having issued. Mr. Murray backed him on the same subject, and, according to report their joint remarks were greeted with cheers by the house. Mr. Buchanan’s remarks were on Saturday published almost verbatim in the Morning, and on Saturday evening an interview with Mr. Scott appeared in the Westminster Gazette. This interview seems to have further incensed the dramatists, and in consequence they have kept matters pretty warm since. I fancy from what I hear that Mr. Scott, weary of these accustomed charges and disputes, is disposed to let them pass, but that the proprietary of the Daily Telegraph, taking a more urgent view, are likely to push matters to a legal issue with all concerned.

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The Sporting Life (17 May, 1894 - p.2)

THE LINGFIELD HANDICAP.

[Mr. Clement Scott considers that Mr. Robert Buchanan’s personal revilings are only his fun.]

A man of much renown and might he could have gone to law,
But just because his mind was great the proper thing he saw.
He heard himself upbraided in set terms that well might rile—
He heard Buchanan call him many things he counted vile.
The common man of common blood might reasonably have said
He would not sleep until he had well-punched Buchanan’s head.
But not at all with Mr. Scott. He sought the higher plan —
The nobler way of showing that he was a Christian man.
Did anger rise at charges grave that might disturb a worm?
Did this great critic in his chair uncomfortably squirm?
Oh, no, indeed. A peaceful scene beneath the setting sun
Was not more calm, for, don’t you see, it was Buchanan’s fun!
Oh, what a funny man he is—how funny are his ways!
His antics more peculiar than many of his lays!
They’ll soon be friends, says Mr. Scott, and laugh about the joke!
Ha, ha! He, he! And like good pals each other’s ribs will poke.
Pure fun! Pure fun! So if I said BEST MAN will win this race,
And SIMON FRASER kept him from obtaining leading place,
And some on e asked me why I should the public lead astray,
I’d answer that it was, of course, my funny little way.

OLD PORT.

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The Newcastle Daily Chronicle (17 May, 1894 - p.4)

MR. CLEMENT SCOTT.

(To the Editor of the Daily Chronicle.)

Sir,—In a leaderette in to-day’s “Chronicle,” entitled “Dramatists and Critics,” you refer to the doubtful wisdom of a dramatist taking public exception to an adverse criticism on his play, and call special attention to Mr. Robert Buchanan’s attack on Mr. Clement Scott for that gentleman’s criticism of “A Society Butterfly.” “There is,” you say, “some difficulty in understanding why Mr.. Clement Scott should have been singled out from the rest of dramatic critics. . . . Rightly or wrongly, all the critics said much the same thing about it.” With all respect, sir, I submit there is no difficulty in understanding why Mr. Buchanan took particular umbrage at the “Daily Telegraph” critique. Mr. Clement Scott possesses a power in the dramatic world that has never been equalled; he stands out a king among critics; and his powerful articles, so clear in their analysis of a play, so concise and particular in their summing up of an actor’s ability, are read by tens of thousands, not only in London, but throughout the provinces, where the names of other critics rarely or never penetrate. Mr. Scott holds, to a certain degree, the fortunes of a play in his hand. A great number of people in London (I speak from experience) will not visit a new play until they have Mr. Scott’s judgment upon it. This brilliant dramatist and critic has generously promised to lecture in Newcastle early in the autumn in aid of “The Home for Destitute Crippled Children.” His lecture, “Thirty Years at the Play,” is one of absorbing interest, and I doubt not will draw in Newcastle as elsewhere crowds of his enthusiastic admirers.—Yours, &c.,

May 14, 1894. W. WAITE SANDERSON.

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The Edinburgh Evening News (18 May, 1894 - p.2)

Apropos of Mr Robert Buchanan’s latest indiscretion, I have just been told a story never yet given to the public. At the time Dr Norman Macleod was editor of Good Words and Mr Buchanan was connected with it, the office of the magazine was on Ludgate Hill. There the privileged gathered one day to view some street spectacle, and among them were the minister of the Barony and our bellicose London Scot. Mr Buchanan left before some of the others, and the conversation having somehow drifted on to the subject of the departed poet, shrewd and pawky Dr Macleod remarked, “Aye, Buchanan is clever, undoubtedly clever, but somehow,” with a twinkle in his eyes, “he always reminds me of a great overgrown boy.”

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The Dover Express (18 May, 1894 - p.8)

Mr. Robert Buchanan, as the public well know b y this time, is not to be wiped out by criticism. The much-talked-of “Social Butterfly” has been produced at the Opera Comique, and—well—it was not received by the audience with unbroken acclamation. Indeed, there was a good deal of rowdy uproar in the upper parts of the house. The play was written by Robert Buchanan and Henry Murray (younger brother of David Christie Murray, the novelist), and the leading actress was Mrs. Langtry. The critics next day, almost with one consent, reported adversely; and the enemies of Mr. Buchanan—and he has enough and to spare—were gleeful. On the succeeding night, however, the poet-playwright came to the footlights and made a slashing speech, protesting against unfair and malign ant criticism, and singled out Mr. Clement Scott for a little personal attack. Mr. Buchanan insinuated that the opposition of the previous night, which he said was the most unseemly demonstration that ever took place in a theatre, was the result of a cabal to insult and terrify “a helpless woman.” One has no means of knowing what Mrs. Langtry thought of this defence, but the two authors and that lady herself came forward at the close of Mr. Buchanan’s remarkable speech, and were received with acclamation. As there had been no unseemly demonstration at the second production, the assumption that the howling and shouting of the first night was a conspiracy had certainly some semblance of likelihood.

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The Westminster Gazette (18 May, 1894 - p.1)

We understand that Mr. Clement Scott, acting in accordance with the advice of Sir Edward Lawson, has instructed Sir George Lewis to take proceedings for libel against Mr. Robert Buchanan. Mr. Scott will also take action against the newspapers that published the alleged libellous matter.

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St. James’s Budget (18 May, 1894 - p.6)

“A SOCIETY BUTTERFLY” AT THE OPERA COMIQUE.

MR. ROBERT BUCHANAN and Mr. Henry Murray are gentlemen deserving of the deepest sympathy. They have been inspired by a great idea—a noble purpose; but, like so many pioneers in the field of thought, they find the world, or so much of it as could be conveniently lodged in the Opéra Comique Theatre last week, not yet ripe to appreciate their efforts. Shrewd observers of their own time, they have watched the music-halls gradually, but surely, invade the domain of the theatre, and suddenly it has occurred to them, Why not endeavour to turn the tables? Why not write a play—a serious play—which shall be as instructive as “The Second Mrs. Tanqueray” and yet contain all the attractions of an entertainment at the Empire or thee Palace? If the public is prepared to accept forty-minute sketches and compressed melodramas at the “Halls,” would it not with equal readiness welcome “living pictures” and imitations of popular actors in a piece of serious interest at the theatre?
In this way, we assume, “A Society Butterfly” came to be written. Unfortunately, the result of the venture can hardly be said quite to have fulfilled expectation. “You must not pump spring water unawares upon a gracious public full of nerves,” once wrote Mrs. Browning; and apparently the nerves of the audience at the Opéra Comique were hardly prepared for the cold douche administered to them. Where the listeners ought to have laughed they preserved a gloomy silence; where they should have shed tears irreverent sounds were only too audible.
Under the circumstances it is scarcely necessary to relate in detail the story unfolded in “A Society Butterfly.” Nor need the omission be regretted, seeing that the same tale has been told again and again by other playwrights and novelists. This, of course, is in no way to the discredit of Mr. Robert Buchanan and Mr. Henry Murray, who had evidently judged, and wisely judged, that it would be imprudent to imperil the success of their experiment by burdening it with originality or novelty of plot. So, as it happens, they have merely taken the ordinary conventional stage types of the silly husband with a tendency to run after a pretty face, the hysterical wife possessed of a desire to play with fire, the designing captain whose fascinating manners are always irresistible up to a certain point. To these must be added two friends, male and female, whose mission it is to bring husband and wife together when the moment arrives for the final descent of the curtain. Society itself is abundantly represented by a number of aristocratic nobodies, who play at getting up “living pictures” and variety entertainments, and who squander their petty wit upon subjects they are incapable of appreciating. In sober earnestness, it is indeed difficult to condone the bad taste displayed by the authors in attacking work the superiority of which to their own is so clearly marked. But throughout the entire piece, alike in thought, sentiment, and tone, can be traced a vein of vulgarity altogether repugnant to good feeling. For the rest it is sufficient to say that the impressions of the audience respecting the quality of the performance were made evident at an early stage of the evening, and that nothing occurred in the later acts to change or even to modify these opinions. As a sporting duchess, Miss Rose Leclercq lent life and animation to the play whenever she appeared; while Mr. Fred Kerr, cool, easy, and self-possessed, was admirable as the would-be seducer. Mr. William Herbert played carefully and well the thankless part of the foolish husband; while Mr. Allan Beaumont, Mr. Edward Rose, and Miss E. B. Sheridan were seen to advantage in minor rôles. As the misguided wife, Mrs. Langtry appeared in a succession of wonderful dresses, but her acting showed little of the requisite power or passion. The piece was well “dressed,” and so were the actresses, but that is not quite enough to secure success.

A Society Butterfly - continued (ii)

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