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Bernard Shaw

Widowers’ Houses & Selected Correspondence Relating to the Play

Edited by Vitaly Baziyan

Copyright © 2021 Vitaly Baziyan

All rights reserved

An original didactic realistic play Widowers’ Houses was first called The Way to a Woman’s Heart, later the Rhinegold, and then German Rheingold, and at the end Widowers’ Houses. It was begun 1884 and finished 1892. The play was first published as no.1 in the Independent Theatre book series of plays by Henry and Co., London in May 1893.

This publication from a revised edition Plays: Pleasant and Unpleasant. The First Volume, Containing the Three Unpleasant Plays (Widowers’ Houses, The Philandered, & Mrs Warren’s Profession) published by Constable and Company Ltd, London 1919 is a handmade reproduction from the original edition, and remains as true to the original work as possible. The original edition was processed manually by means of a classic editing which ensures the quality of publications and the unrestricted enjoyment of reading.

The selected correspondence of Bernard Shaw relating to the play Widowers’ Houses contains 160 letters and entries written between 1885 and 1933. Sources of this collection are prior publications Collected Letters of Bernard Shaw published by Max Reinhardt; Bernard Shaw’s Letters to Siegfried Trebitsch published by Stanford University Press; Ellen Terry and Bernard Shaw: a correspondence and Our Theatres in the Nineties published by Constable and Company Ltd., London; Shaw on Theatre published by Hill and Wang, New York; Bernard Shaw’s Letters to Granville Barker published by Theatre Arts Books, New York; Shaw published by Oliver & Boyd, Edinburgh; Shaw’s Theatre published by University Press of Florida Book; Advice to a Young Critic published by Peter Owen Limited, London; The Diary of Beatrice Webb published by the Belknap Press of Harvard University Press; The Letters of Sidney and Beatrice Webb published by Cambridge University Press; edition of letters published by University of Toronto Press; Bernard Shaw: A Bibliography, in Two Volumes, Band 1 published by Oxford University Press; The Playwright & the Pirate. Bernard Shaw and Frank Harris: A Correspondence, Bernard Shaw: The Drama Observed and Bernard Shaw: The Diaries, 1885 – 1897 published by Pennsylvania State University Press.

The book represents a significant addition to modern-day understanding of Shaw’s play Widowers’ Houses ‘being a drama of the cash nexus in plot’, and reveals his thoughts on a wide variety of issues as well as his relationships with contemporaries.

George Bernard Shaw won The Nobel Prize in Literature for 1925 “for his work which is marked by both idealism and humanity, its stimulating satire often being infused with a singular poetic beauty.”

George Bernard Shaw won the Oscar in 1939 for Best Screenplay and Dialogue for his role in adapting his play Pygmalion for the screen.

Bernard Shaw’s punctuation and spelling were mostly kept by the editor. Italics were used for plays titles, books, newspapers and unfamiliar foreign words or phrases. Christian names, surnames, positions and ranks were added in square brackets when they were omitted but are necessary for a better understanding. Cuts of a few words are indicated by three dots and longer omissions by four dots.

The ebook cover was created by the editor using the photograph of a British actor James Welch who successfully played Lickcheese in the play Widowers’ Houses.

The play Widowers’ Houses was given a copyright performance by the Independent Theatre Society at the Royalty Theatre in London on the 9th December 1892. The copyright performance was staged in the United Kingdom for the purpose of securing the author’s copyright over the text. There was a fear that according to the Dramatic Literary Property Act 1833, if a play’s text was published, or a rival production staged, before its official premiere, then the author’s rights would be lost.

Characters in order of appearance:

Harry Trench – W. J. Robertson

William de Burgh Cokane – Arthur Whittaker

Mr Sartorius – T. W. Percival

Lickcheese – James Welch

Waiter – E. P. Donne

Porter – W. Alison

Blanche – Florence Farr

The Parlourmaid – N. de Silva

Producer – Herman de Lange

Widowers’ Houses was next time presented in public by Miss Annie Horniman’s Company at the Midland Theatre in Manchester on 7th October 1907.

Characters in order of appearance:

Harry Trench – A. G. Somers

William de Burgh Cokane – Charles Bibby

Mr Sartorius – Chas. Charrington

Lickcheese – B. Iden Payne

Waiter – Stanley Roberts

Porter – Rathmell Wilson

Blanche – Mona Limerick

The Parlourmaid – Clare Greet

Producer – B. Iden Payne

Selected Correspondence Relating to the Play Widowers’ Houses

1/ Bernard Shaw’s diary

Preliminary Notes 1885

RESIDENCE: 36 Osnaburgh St. London, N.W. all the year round. Name of Landlord: Johns. We had the second floor, and a room on the third in which I slept.

HABITS: Work every day in the reading room at the British Museum. Dined every day at the Wheatsheaf Vegetarian Restaurant, Rathbone Place. When I lay too late in the mornings (which was most often the case) I did not go to the Museum until after dinner, which I took at 14 or 15 o’clock. My habit of spending every Saturday evening with J. K. [James Kingston] Barton at his house, 2 Courtfield Road, Gloucester Road, S. W. was kept up but with many interruptions owing to the frequency of both his engagements and mine. The Sunday evenings with Pakenham Beatty at 62 Sinclair Road, West Kensington were much interrupted by lectures etc., and finally ended on his removal to Mill Hill Park.

OBITUARY: 19th April. My father at 21 Leeson Park Avenue, Dublin. [19th] December. My maternal grandfather, Walter Bagnall Gurly.

OCCUPATION: Journalism. William Archer procured me an appointment as musical critic to The Dramatic Review, a journal started in February by an Irishman named Edwin P. Palmer. My first article appeared in the second number (8/2/—). At first I contributed only signed articles, but later in the year I wrote a set of paragraphs every week for the musical column. The paper ceased to pay in the autumn, and I am now keeping up the paragraphs without any hope of getting paid for them. Archer also procured me a place on the reviewing staff of The Pall Mall Gazette, in which my first article appeared on the 16th May. The Magazine of Music applied to me for articles pretty regularly during the later months of the year. One of these contributions was a scrap of fiction, written in 1881, entitled “The serenade.” Contributed art notes to Mrs [Annie] Besant’s magazine Our Corner under the heading “Art Corner” every month from June onward. Early in the year, I edited [Laurence] Gronlund’s Co-operative Commonwealth for The Modern Press. I gave up the idea of completing the Lodge Index on my father’s death, and handed it over to Thomas Tyler.

NOVELS: In April Cashel Byron’s Profession began its course through To-Day and The Irrational Knot through Our Corner. The latter was paid for at the rate of 5/— a page. The work of revising and correcting them, and the journalism, left me no time to do any original work.

LECTURES, ETC.: Took an active part in the Fabian Society. Wrote two pamphlets for it, and worked on the executive. For lectures and debates see Engagements. Gave my first provincial lecture at Leicester on 22nd November. Continued a member of the Bedford, Browning, and Dialectical Societies and attended the meetings of the New Shakspere Society pretty regularly.

FADS, ETC.: Continued vegetarianism. Took to the woollen clothing system, and gave up using sheets in bed. Acting: Made an attempt to act in a third rate comedy at Notting Hill with the Avelings [Edward Aveling and Eleanor Marx], on the 30th January.

FAMILY CIRCUMSTANCES: My father’s death in April put a stop to the 30/— a week he had been sending us, but we got nearly £100 by a policy of insurance on his life. With this we could do little more than pay off our debts and replace our worn-out clothes. [My sister] Lucy was at work on the stage in the provinces all the year. My mother suddenly struck a new vein of work as the teacher of singing in the High Schools towards the end of the year. I also slipped into paid journalism; but this put a stop to my life’s work.

STUDIES: Almost nil. Towards the end of the year I began to read German with Sidney Webb once a week, but I pursued it in a very desultory manner. I lost much time by my laziness in the matter of getting up in the morning. I had no time to read much in economics, but I attended a circle at Hampsteed formed for the study of [Karl] Marx and [Pierre-Joseph] Proudhon; and in November I began to go to the house of [Henry R.] Beeton, a stockbroker in 42 Belsize Square where [Herbert Somerton] Foxwell, [Philip] Wicksteed, [Francis Y.] Edgeworth and others met fortnightly to discuss economic questions. My practical interest in music was revived by my duties as critic of The Dramatic Review.

[SEX LIFE:] On the 26th July, my 29th birthday, begins an intimacy with a lady [Mrs Jane “Jenny” Patterson] of our acquaintance. This was my first connection of the kind. I was an absolute novice. I did not take the initiative in the matter.

2/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 25th August 1885

Princess’s Theatre. Hoodman Blind [by Wilson Barrett and Henry Arthur Jones].

Copy out some of the drama [later called the Rheingold or Widowers’ Houses] I began [with William Archer on the 18th August] last year. Saw Archer at Museum. On my return found JP [Jane Patterson] here very angry because [Risden H.] Home had written to her friend [Robert] Boyle about something that I told him. Took her off to Princess’s. May Morris there with the Walkers (Emery) and the Pennells [Joseph Pennell and the writer, not the actress Elizabeth Robins]. Went to restaurant to get JP a cup of coffee. Home with her.

Dinner 1/- PMG [Pall Mall Gazette] 1d Rec’d: Mrs Besant £3/8/9

3/ Bernard Shaw’s diary

Preliminary Notes 1886

This page I am writing up on the 26th December 1887, having in my inveterate laziness and procrastination put it off for a whole year.

RESIDENCE: Still 36 Osnaburgh St.

HABITS: The same as last year, except that I made a stand against late rising by using an alarum clock and actually succeeding in getting up regularly at 8 every morning until the end of the year when the clock broke and I began immediately to relapse. I got a new clock, but did not quite regain my punctuality, which by and by, made me so sleepy in the afternoon that I got into the habit of taking a nap in the Museum over my books.

OCCUPATION: Writing reviews for the Pall Mall Gazette and notices of picture exhibitions for The World (Archer procured for me the post of art critic on that paper on resigning it himself in February) for my living, and lecturing etc. on Socialism.

NOVELS: Wrote no new fiction. Cashel Byron I published in a shilling edition by Champion in February, and in New York by Harper’s in December.

LECTURES, SOCIETIES, ETC.: Same as last year. The Hampstead Marx Circle became the Hampstead Historic Club.

STUDIES: Made a desperate attempt to learn and work through [Heinrich Godefroy] Ollendorff from end to end, but did not find myself much the forwarder for it.

FAMILY CIRCUMSTANCES: Mother teaching at public schools—class singing. Lucy on the stage as comic opera prima donna. During this year my work at the Fabian brought me much into contact with Mrs [Annie] Besant, and towards the end of the year this intimacy became of a very close and personal sort, without, however, going further than a friendship.

4/ Bernard Shaw’s diary

Preliminary Notes 1887

RESIDENCE: 36 Osnaburgh St. until the 4th of March, when we moved to 29 Fitzroy Sq., of which we took the 3rd and 4th floors. But as the new rooms were then uninhabitable I stayed at Barton’s, 2 Courtfield Rd., until the 21st March, on which day I took up quarters at Fitzroy Sq. The move was forced upon us by the bankruptcy of the landlord at Osnaburgh St.

HABITS: I continued the old routine at the British Museum until the middle of September, when finding that it was impossible to work amid acquaintances who kept constantly coming to chat with me, I turned one of the rooms on the top floor here into a studio and gave up the Museum. I also drew up a timetable to which I stuck well at first, but rather lamely afterwards, especially as I relapsed more and more into my old bad habits as to late rising. But it enabled me to copy out the unfinished drama [later called Widowers’ Houses] I wrote in shorthand in 1884. When it was finished (that is, the transcript, not the drama) Archer ridiculed it. I then dropped it, and left it with him, subsequently suggesting that he should give it to H. A. [Henry Arthur] Jones, who might borrow a notion from it for a drama touching socialism. The timetable also made provisions for some work at algebra and German, at both of which I made very slow and precarious progress. A good deal of laziness, late rising, and remorse towards the end of the year.

OCCUPATION: Criticism for my living, and socialism for my unpaid work. Literary criticism in the Pall Mall Gazette, criticism of pictures in The World, and the payments from Our Corner for The Irrational Knot and Love Among the Artists providing me with money. My Mother of course helped by her teaching, chiefly of class singing at high schools. In June I succeeded [William] Archer as a correspondent of the New York Epoch, but after writing two letters to them I gave it up, as they asked for fashionable gossip.

FAMILY EVENTS: My sister Lucy was married to Charles Edward Butterfield, an actor aged 35 (her own age being 34) at St. John’s Church, Charlotte St., Fitzroy Sq., on the 17th December.

NOVELS: I began a new one on the 14th May and kept at it for a day or two, then continued at longer intervals until the 14th June, when I gave it up from want of time. An Unsocial Socialist was published in the spring in one volume at 6 shillings; but it did not sell at this price. In July I wrote a sketch entitled “Don Giovanni Explains” for Unwin’s Annual; but the Annual was not published in consequence of [Henry] Norman, the editor, going abroad for a trip, and the sketch was left on my hands.

STUDIES: None, except the work at algebra and German reading described above under “Habits,” and such studies as my reviewing needed.

SOCIETIES, LECTURES, ETC.: In July I joined the Parliamentary Debating Society called the Charing Cross Parliament, where a Socialist government was formed of which I was a member (President Local Government Board). As this met on Friday, it kept me away from the New Shakspere and Browning Societies during the latter half of the year. Otherwise I kept up last year’s habits as far as societies are concerned. Tuesday meetings at Beeton’s were discontinued during the early half of the year, but resumed in the winter for the discussion of [Philip Henry] Wicksteed’s MS. of a primer of economics. [Henry Ramié] Beeton had meanwhile moved to 9 Mansfield Gardens (see “Studies” 1885).

DOMESTIC CIRCUMSTANCES: Same as last year; but as our rent was reduced and our earnings rather enlarged, we got a new piano on the hire system and began to live a very little more freely.

[SEX LIFE:] The intimacy with Mrs [Annie] Besant alluded to last year reached in January a point at which it threatened to become a vulgar intrigue, chiefly through my fault. But I roused myself in time and avoided this. I however frequently went to her house on Monday evenings and played pianoforte duets (mostly Haydn symphonies arranged) with her. At Xmas, I returned her all her letters and she mine. Reading over my letters before destroying them rather disgusted me with the trifling of the last two years or so about women.

HEALTH: Bad feverish cold caught on the evening of the 13th January, bad on 15th, 16th, and 17th on the mend. Lost my voice completely from lecturing on the 16th—could hardly speak for 3 days and had to lecture very carefully on the 23rd. A slight but nasty little cold on the 26th-28th March. Got a slight cold which took the form of a touch of neuralgia on the night of the 25th April, but it passed off in a day or two. However, on the 2nd May, in the following week, I got a sore heel, as if the tendon of Achilles were strained. I first felt it at tea on the 2nd, and was very lame next day. Began to feel the rancour produced by the hot weather on the 2nd July.

Slight looseness of the bowels on August 16th and for a few days after, due perhaps to eating a melon at Mrs Besant’s on the evening of the 15th. Violent cold in the head developed itself during the afternoon of the 19th August. By the 20th still pretty bad, but beginning to mend on the 21st, but as I had to speak in the open air in the evening I lost my voice. Slept soundly. 22nd still on the mend. Voice began to come back on the 24th. Had a slight attack of giddiness and nausea, which rather alarmed me, as there was an epidemic of scarlet fever at the time. 20th September. Catarrh from the wretched cold and fog on the 17th November lasted until the weather got better.

5/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 3rd September 1887

Barton. First night of Pleasure [by Paul Meritt and Augustus Harris] at [The Theatre Royal] Drury Lane. Tea with Archer.

Still at the Interest article. [Robert William] Lowe and his wife at Archer’s. Copy a little of the play [named the Rhinegold later Widowers’ Houses] I began in 1884 at Archer’s suggestion.

Dinner 1/2 PMG 1d Programme at Drury Lane 6d Lent [Henry Chance] Newton 1/-

6/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 1st October 1887

Soirée of the Photographic Society. 5 Pall Mall East. (Old Water Colours [Society]). 20. Private View. 12 to 17. Mrs Besant’s in the forenoon. No. Put off.

Called at E.[mery] Walker’s at Clifford’s Inn. Arranged that he should come on to the Photographic Society. Dined at the Palgrave. Went to Photographic Society. Was introduced to [Henry Trueman] Wood of the Society of Artists by [Thomas] Bolas and we all went to the Camera Club and had coffee and conversation. Got my hair shampooed in Great Russell St. and went to Archer’s. Found he had gone to Liverpool, but had a talk with Mrs Archer [née Frances Elizabeth Trickett] about his trying his luck with the drama [named the Rhinegold later Widowers’ Houses] in collaboration with me. Came home and read during evening.

Dinner 1/—

7/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 4th October 1887

Fitzgerald Molloy’s in the evening.

[James Leigh] Joynes, back from Durham, was at the Wheatsheaf. Continued review of musical books. Went to the Stores and left the French edition of [Karl] Marx’s Capital to be bound. Went on to the City to buy a diary for next year, but they were not published yet. Bought [Benjamin] Franklin’s biography in shorthand at Pitman’s. Met W. [Walter H.] Coffin at Holborn Viaduct. Finished copying the play [the Rheingold later Widowers’ Houses] and left the MS. at Archer’s on my way to [Joseph Fitzgerald] Molloy’s. Archer was not at home. Robbie Carl was here when I went out, also Dot Wilkinson. Phene Spiers, Oscar Wilde, Capt. Sargent and others at Molloy’s. Fotune telling etc. Spiers walked part of the way home with me. Not in until past 1. Mathers was the name of the man who read my character from my hand at Molloy’s in the evening.

Dinner 1/2 Bus Bedford St. to St. Paul’s 1d Franklin’s Autobiography in shorthand 1/6 Train Farringdon Rd. to Portland Rd. 2d

8/ To a Scottish writer, theatre critic, playwright, Henrik Ibsen’s translator and early friend William Archer

4th October 1887

I have left the first two acts of the Rheingold at John St, in longhand. They are not supposed to be complete; but they present a series of consecutive dialogues in which your idea is prepared and developed. The central notion is quite perfect; but the hallucinations with which you surrounded it are absent: you will have to put them in yourself. The bathing place is impossible; and I dont see how the long lost old woman is to be introduced without destroying the realism and freshness of the play: she would simply turn the thing into a plot, and ruin it. I think the story would bear four acts; but I have no idea of how it is to proceed. The peculiarity so far is that there is only one female character; and her social isolation is essential to the situation. Will you proceed either to chuck in the remaining acts, or provide me with a skeleton for them? You will perceive that my genius has brought the romantic notion, which possessed you, into vivid contact with real life.

I should prefer the St James’s Theatre, with Mrs Kendal [Madge Kendal née Margaret Shafto Robertson] as Blanche, [John Hare] as Sartorius, [William] Mackintosh as Lickcheese, Arthur Cecil as Cokane, and [William Hunter] Kendal as Trench. Or Ellen Terry as Blanche, Wilson Barrett as Sartorius, George Barrett as Lickcheese, [Henry] Irving as Cokane, and [Edward W.] Gardiner as Trench. Harry Nicholls or Edward [O’Connor] Terry might understudy Cokane; and Alma Murray might in extremity be allowed to play Blanche. What is your opinion? I think, by the bye, that the title Rheingold ought to be saved for a romantic play. This is realism.

GBS

PS Never mind clerical errors: I have not read it over. And the details as to the hotel garden, the time &c, are all at sixes and sevens.

9/ Bernard Shaw’s diary

Preliminary Notes 1888

HEALTH

Slight cold (catarrh only) during the first week in January caused by the break up of the frost and the return of damp, warm weather. Moderate cold caught on the break up of the cold weather on the 21st April, hanging about me during the following week. Got completely wet in the rain on the 17th and again on the 22nd July. After the 22nd I got slight cold in the head and bellyache—a new affliction, or at least one which I had not had since my childhood. On the 26th this suddenly developed into one of my regular bad colds, the first I have had this year. I had attributed my immunity for so long to my having taken early in the year to the habit of wearing gloves for the first time in my life. On the 28th it was mending so fast as to be bearable and on the 29th, although the rate of mending, as usual, slackened disappointingly, it was nothing to complain of. But I lost my voice by talking all that day and could not speak above a whisper next day. The remains of it wore out slowly during the following week. On the evening of the 20th October I went to the opening of the Shaftesbury Theatre after calling for a moment on Mrs Archer and rallying her about the sore throat which prevented her from going and which I pretended not to believe in. At the end of the second act of the play I found that my own throat was sore, and I passed an uneasy, half-delirious sort of night. Next day I was out of sorts, and the affliction hovering about me a little until the 23rd, when I was practically well. Found my throat ticklish on the 3rd December and almost lost my voice after my lecture on the 4th. Still very bad on the 5th when I spoke at the Dialectical Society. The cold which caused this did not come to anything; but it hung about me for some time. On the night of the 20th December I got a very slight attack in my left lower jaw, and the 21st I was exceedingly depressed and out of sorts. The attack persisted through the night, though it was not severe enough to keep me quite awake; but towards morning I got fast asleep and when I woke, the gum had swelled and the ache was quite gone—I had also quite recovered my spirits. However, except for a day or two after my walk with [Sydney] Olivier on Christmas Eve, I remained in low health and spirits almost until the return of the sunlight in the spring of 1889, q.v.

10/ To an English actress Alma Murray, the wife of the poet Alfred William Forman

24th February 1888

Dear Mrs Forman

I shall blight the Bedford as gently as possible. Somehow, competent people never will lecture. I delivered sixtysix lectures last year on subjects which I certainly do not know half as much about as you do about acting.

I really cannot refrain from saying a word about “Christina.” The authors [Percy Lynwood and Mark Ambient] are known to me as harmless and estimable men out of the theatre; but it infuriates me to see good gifts wasted on such stuff. At its production last year I raged over it for ten minutes to an acquaintance with whom I had once slept in a haunted house. He agreed with me, and then mentioned that he was the collaborator of [Mark] Ambient. However, it served him right. I wish I could write you a real play myself; but unfortunately I have not the faculty. I once wrote two acts of a splendid play [named the Rhinegold later Widowers’ Houses], and read them to an eminent dramatic critic [William Archer]. He laughed the first to scorn, and went asleep in the middle of the second; so I made him a present of the MS [manuscript] (to his intense indignation) and set to work to destroy the society that makes bad plays possible. What a career you will have when that work is completed! I look forward, breathless, to the Blot [A Blot on the ’Scutcheon by Robert Browning]. They did it once before, at St George’s Hall, with, oh! SUCH a Mildred! Good Heavens! In short, thank you for your kind reception of our proposal.

yrs very truly

G. Bernard Shaw

11/ Bernard Shaw’s diary

Preliminary Notes 1889

INTRODUCTIONS

Edvard Grieg, at the Philharmonic rehearsal, St Jas’s Hall, by H. L. [Hans Lien] Braekstad. 13th. Mar.

Johannes Wolff, at the Philharmonic rehearsal, St Jas’s Hall, by Mrs T. P. [Thomas Power] O’Connor. 13th. Mar.

Henry George, at the Philharmonic rehearsal, 31 Upper Bedford Place, by Stewart Headlam. 7th Ap.

Hedwig & Elsa Sonntag at Portsdown Road by the Oliviers—12th. June.

Janet Achurch, Charles Charrington, Fru Backer Grøndahl, D. Hagerup, Herr Barth, Frolien Reimers, and Fru Laura Gundersen, at the Novelty Theatre—“Doll’s House” dinner. 16th. June.

Mrs Mona Caird, at the Fine Art Society’s Gallery, by William Sharp. 28th. June.

Stanley Little, at Charing + railway station, by Edward Rose. 5th. July.

Miss [Annie Payson] Call, at 44 Devonshire St. Portland Place, by W. Archer. 15th. July.

[James R.] Osgood, at Natl. Lib. Club., by S.[idney] Webb. 12th. Sept.

Wm. C. Ward, at 4 Mount Ararat, Richmond, by H.[oward] Swan. 6th. Oct.

F. C. Barker, at 49 Gwendon Road, by A. B. [Arthur Bingham] Walkley. 5th. Oct.

Mrs [Louise] Jopling Rowe, at Arts & Crafts Exhibition Private View. ? 5th. Oct.

Karl Armbruster and wife, at 16 Queens Road, Bayswater, by himself. 11th. Oct.

Earl of Crawford, at 23 Brompton Square, by J. P. [Mrs Jane “Jenny” Patterson] 12th. Oct.

[F. G.] Prange, at 23 Brompton Square, by J. P. 27th. Oct.

Major Lett, at 4 Courtfield Road, by D. J. Slater. 2nd. Nov.

Edwin Human, at 38 Gloucester Road (Salt’s), by Grace Black. 9th. Nov.

Samuel Butler, at Cliffords Inn, by Emery Walker. 15th. Nov.

Miss [Annie] Oppenheim, at 23 Brompton Sq., by J. P. 16th. Nov.

Canon [Edward Deacon] Girdlestone, at 10 Delamere Terrace. Westbourne Sq., by R.[obert] E. Dell. 17th. [December].

MEMORANDA OF THINGS LENT

Date Article To Whom Lent Returned

Oct. 10 “Parsifal” vocal score Mrs [Catherine] Salt 29th Oct

Nov. 1 MS. “Love Among Artists” D. Gordon (Walter Scott [firm])

Nov. 25 “Parsifal” v.s. A. R. [Alfred Robert] Dryhurst

Dec. 6 MS. “Don Gio. Explains” H. W. [Henry William] Massingham 7 Dec.

HEALTH

During the early part of the year I was nervous, depressed, and in unsatisfactory health in general as far as my nerves were concerned. When the spring came and the sunlight returned I recovered. In April and most of May in particular, I was in capital working condition and in good spirits.

On the 15th May I had a terribly feverish night, with symptoms of a general inflammatory condition, especially in my teeth. This passed off next day; but on the night of the 19th I had the same experience in an aggravated degree, and next day I suffered so much from weakness, nausea, headache etc. that I concluded that I had caught a serious fever for the first time since my attack of smallpox in 1881. However, towards evening on the 20th I felt stronger, and went to the opera, although I earlier in the day had given up the idea of attempting such a thing. During the night of the 20th I slept with only a few breaks during which I found myself sweating profusely. Next day my throat was sore; but I could eat and my weakness was gone. My repeated public addresses in the following week knocked up my throat altogether; and I had to stop speaking for about three weeks, during the last of which I diligently practised scales and singing. This cured me completely.

On the 1st September, coming home from the second lecture that day, I was conscious of a certain sensation which I can only describe as a hollowness and vibratoriness about the heart which suggested to me, not for the first time, that I should be careful not to overexert it.

On the 25th October, in the evening, I began to shiver, and had a bad feverish night. This was another of my new sort of colds. The chill seems to have replaced the influenza with me. It left a cough hanging about me for some time; and on the 3rd November my throat got so ticklesome after a walk in the rain that I could hardly lecture in the evening.

Found myself with a slight cold in the head on waking on the morning of the 9th December. It lasted four days, but was not at all as bad as my ordinary influenza.

12/ Bernard Shaw’s diary

Preliminary Notes 1890

INTRODUCTIONS

Professor Stuart, by H.W. [Henry William] Massingham, at Nat. Lib. Club. 6th. Feb-y.

B.F.C. [Benjamin Francis Conn] Costelloe, by H.W. Massingham, at Nat. Lib. Club. 6th. Feb-y.

Digby Besant, by Wm. Besant, at 19 Avenue Road. 14 April.

G. [Lady] Colin Campbell [née Gertrude Elizabeth Blood], by herself, at New Gallery. 29th. April.

Algernon Swinburne, by Theodore Watts, at The Pines. Putney. 22nd. May.

Albert Thillot, by [Ernest Belfort] Bax’s card, at 29 Fitzroy sq. 15th. July.

Beatrice Potter [later Mrs Webb], by Sidney Webb, at Fabian. 18th July.

Leon Little, by Stanley Little, at Rudgwick. 23rd Aug-t. Marshall-Hall, by Jno. F. Runciman, at Covent Garden Opera. 6th. Nov-r.

Victor Maurel, by Lady Colin Campbell, at 67 Carlisle Mansions. 27th. Nov-r.

F. Gilbert Webb, by Edgar Jacques, at 58 Torrington Sq. 31st. Dec-r.

13/ Bernard Shaw’s diary

Preliminary Notes 1891

INTRODUCTIONS

Van Dyck (Belgian diplomat) at Fitzroy Square by Karl Armbruster. 17th May.

HEALTH

On the 7th June I caught the influenza. For a few days before I had noticed that my voice had lost its tone; but I was not ill. On this day I got a headache and what I thought was an attack of indigestion, to which, however, I am not subject. I had a very bad night—feverish and delirious. Next day I was weak and ill as if sickening from the fever—headache, pains in the back, weakness, nausea, etc. I did my day’s work and forced myself to eat as usual. In the evening I got the inflammation in the eye. That night I slept well; and next day I was strong again, though the pain in the eye remained, with sore throat and local pain. Next day my head was stuffy and uneasy and I was the least bit in the world feverish, as if the affair were a cold in the head. Although it merely lasted for four days, yet it left a headache behind it which at last grew so unpleasant that on the 19th I went down for a couple of days to Broadstairs and baked myself on the sands there. This got rid of it, though it returned for a while the evening I came up to town. I suspect it had much to do with the following.

On the 25th July my right calf, in which there has been for a long time a slight tendency to varicoses, developed this tendency rather emphatically. After a few days it passed away. I took some of Mattei’s anti-angiotico. On the 22nd August on coming up from Oxted, where I had been staying a few days with the Salts’, I had an attack of looseness of the bowels, not bad enough to be called diarrhea, but still bad enough to disturb me once in the night. Next day as I had to deliver three addresses in the open air, I took out with me a tube of Mattei’s antiscrofoloso giappone, and took it whenever I felt troubled. It kept it off; and I was well next day.

On the 9th September I caught what I thought was a slight cold; but next day it became a pretty bad cold in the head, and lasted until the 16th, though bad only for three days. On the evening of the 11th November I caught—or became conscious of having caught—a cold. It was, I thought, a fairly bad one; but on the night of the 13th, when I thought it was mending, it became very troublesome, so that I could not sleep, but lay reading for the great part of the night. I slept well on the following night, after which matters began to mend. I got rid of it very slowly and incompletely. On the evening of the 9th December, having been working late at nights and having no change or relaxation for a longish time, I got a bad attack, slept feverishly, and could do nothing next day; when, however, I mended in the evening.

14/ Bernard Shaw’s diary

Preliminary Notes 1892

INTRODUCTIONS

Auguste Couvreur and “Tasma,” his wife, at 88 St. James’s St. by R. W. Reynolds.

Fred H. Wilson. The Savoy Theatre, by Edward Rose.

H. Reece, 123 Dalling Rd. Mrs Emery [née Florence Beatrice Farr].

HEALTH

Caught a cold on the 10th March. It was not very bad, but it was a well defined one and went through the easiest stages.

On the 13th July I caught a headache in the afternoon of the concert; and in the evening, at the opera, I suffered so much from nausea that I had to leave before the end. I was violently sick when I got home; and did not quite recover for the few days after, though I got much better next day. My knee joint (the right) also began to give way in its old fashion. There is evidently some loose cartilage in it. It bothered me a good deal all through the autumn months. At last the left knee showed the same symptoms in the lighter degree.

On the 15th September I watched the sunset on Barnes Common, staring at the blinding light for nearly quarter of an hour. In the evening I found myself with a bad headache; and next day the headache continued all day. On the 8th November I got another bad headache after going without any day off work for some time. Also the trouble in my knees was felt again. It is evident that I have been overtaxing myself by working continually for the last few years without having a day of rest every week, and taking no real holiday except for a fortnight at a time when I have gone abroad. All the autumn I vowed repeatedly to make a “Sunday” for myself—that is, a day set aside every week for rest; but I find I cannot carry it out. Circumstances are too strong for me. Also I want bodily exercise badly. I am, however, more than ever convinced of the value to me of my vegetarianism and my abstinence from tea, coffee and alcoholic stimulants. Although I was much more seriously overstrained this summer than ever before by the very active part which I took in the general election, which came in the busiest weeks of the musical season, and though I was disappointed in being prevented by the cholera from going to Italy, yet I found that I recuperated remarkably even without a change, by taking walks and dropping my musical work altogether.

MEMORANDA OF REFERENCE, &C.

Thomson & Sons. Woodhouse Mills, Huddersfield.

Mrs Thornton Smith. 28 Townshend Road, St John’s Wood N.W.

15/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 29th July 1892

Began to set papers in order, and came across the comedy [named the Rhinegold later Widowers’ Houses] which I began in 1885 and left aside after finishing two acts. In the evening JP [Mrs Jane Patterson] was here; and she urged me to get her the old numbers of The World and to cut out my articles so that she might paste them up for me. Set to work at them and got through the whole lot. Cut out [William] Archer’s also and packed them up to send off to him.

Star d Justice 1d Dinner 1/1

16/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 31st July 1892

SUNDAY Speak on Streatham Common on “The Lesson of the General Election,” at 18.30 (J. F. McAndrews, 51 Natal Rd., Streatham S.W.). 17.45 from Victoria to Streatham Common.

Still amusing myself finishing the comedy [named the Rhinegold later Widowers’ Houses]. At Streatham it rained; as the audience would not go away I got rather wet. However, Crickmay turned up; and after the address he brought me to his house and gave me a dry coat and some supper. Malvin came in. Have not seen Crickmay or Malvin for several years. Came back from Streatham Hill.

Train to Streatham Common & back (from Streatham Hill) 1/6

17/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 2nd August 1892

Meet FE [Mrs Florence Emery] at Cannon St. at 14 and go down to Hayes.

Began to revise the comedy [the Rhinegold later Widowers’ Houses]. FE and I found that we had made a mistake about the train at Cannon St. and we had to wait in the City from 14 to 15.7. We spent the time going through the Guildhall. At Hayes it was too cloudy to be very pretty; but it was warm and did not rain; so we were able to rest well on the Heath. I went home after she went off to the theatre; and then rejoined her at her house at 22.

Star d PMG [Pall Mall Gazette] 1d Pick Me Up 1d Dinner 1/1? Return tickets Charing + to Hayes (2) 4/6 Charing + underground to Cannon St 1d Tea &c at Orange Grove 2/6? Train Portland Rd to Shepherds Bush & back 9d

18/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 20th October 1892

In the morning [Henry Halliday] Sparling went to town by train, having to go to Hull. May [Mrs Sparling née Morris] and I went off for a walk along the towpath to Richmond, where we dined at Ferrari’s Restaurant. We came back by train to Ravenscourt Park, where we parted, and I went to FE [Mrs Florence Emery]. She was out; and I went in and waited, working at the play, which I decided to call Widowers’ Houses. I wrote in a new scene near the end of the second act. FE did not come in until past 17.

Chiswick Ferry 4d Lunch at Richmond 2/4? Train Richmond to Ravenscourt Pk (2) 10d? Ravenscourt Pk to Charing + (we got out at St. James’s Pk) (2) 1/– Star d

19/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 27th October 1892

Social “Browning” at Mrs [William F. née Mary Higgin Davenport] Revell’s. 58 Oxford Gardens W. 19. Personal Rights Association Soiree and Discussion on “Free Trade and Individualism” opened by Alfred Milnes. St. Martin’s Town Hall. 20. [Charles] Willeby to call between 12 and I. Put off to Saturday. Go up to [Jack Thomas] Grein’s at 20 to discuss the cast for the play [Widowers’ Houses].

Began World article. Archer called and we went to dinner at the Wheatsheaf together. Very wet day.

2 Stars 1d Dinner 1/–?

20/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 14th November 1892

Fabian Executive. 17. Countess Castelvecchio’s 3d dramatic and musical recital. St. James’s Banqueting Hall. 15. Liberal and Radical Union Council Meeting. National Liberal Club. 20. First rehearsal of Widowers’ Houses at the Mona Hotel. 14. Call at the old office of The Novel Review, 18 Tavistock St., to be interviewed by Miss Wilson [“Mr Bernard Shaw’s Play”]. 15.

Spent the morning finishing Fabian Notes for The Workman’s Times. The rehearsal did not come to anything, as there were not enough present to get to work. I went on to The Novel Review, though I had telegraphed to put the inconvenience off. After the Fabian I went home and wrote some letters and changed my clothes. Did not get back here until past midnight. One of the letters I wrote was to the PMG [Pall Mall Gazette] about the right of public meeting.

Train Hammersmith to Charing + (return not used) 9d Dinner (at Orange Grove) 10d Star d Train Portland Rd to Hammersmith 6d

21/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 16th November 1892

Rehearsal, Mona Hotel.

Working at cutting the first and second acts of the play [Widowers’ Houses] for performance. Called on FE [Mrs Florence Emery], and went through the part with her. Found [John] Todhunter there. Went home after leaving the Orange Grove and got my letters. Got back here about 22 and wrote some letters.

Train Ravenscourt Pk to Charing + single, self, 6d, return FE 9d Papers 1d Orange Grove, table d’hote &c (2) 3/10 Train Portland Rd to Hammersmith 7d

22/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 21st November 1892

Fabian Executive. 17. Fabian Central Group Meeting. 32 Great Ormond St. F.[rancis] Galton on “The Place of Trade Unionism in Social Reconstruction.” 20. Rehearsal, Mona Hotel. 12.30. Call on [G.N.] Williamson of Black and White in the afternoon. Sleep at Fitzroy Square.

Murray Carson came to the rehearsal to read the part of Trench. After dinner at the Orange Grove I went to Black and White and arranged with Williamson to send him an article on the music of the month at the end of December. Then to the Executive, where I took the chair. Got something to eat alone at Gatti’s and then went to the Fabian Group Meeting, where I took the chair. Then home.

Train to Charing + 6d Dinner (at Orange Grove) 1/—? Macaroni &c at Gatti & Rodesano’s 1/4 [Arthur Wing] Pinero’s Magistrate 1

23/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 22nd November 1892

Cecil Sharp’s 3rd lecture. 15. School Board Vocal Music Competition. Exeter Hall. 14. Rehearsal, Mona Hotel. 12.30.

No rehearsal, the part of Trench being still rejected by all; Murray Carson came in; and we had a long discussion of acting. Finally we all went off to get something to eat. Spent three hours at Exeter Hall. Went out to FE’s; and stayed there until 22. Read over her part with her. On my way out from town got into the train with Charley Burkinyoung. Got out with him at Earl’s Court and walked with him to the corner of Philbeach Gardens, where we parted, I walking on to FE [Florence Emery]’s.

Train to Charing + 6d Dinner (at Orange Grove) 1/4? Papers 1d? Train Charing + to Earls Court 5d?

24/ To a British publisher John Lane who co-founded with Charles Elkin Mathews The Bodley Head publishing company

22nd November 1892

[Dear John Lane]

Were you serious about publishing that play [Widowers’ Houses] of mine? I am not sure that it would be a very gorgeous investment; but I suppose a limited edition at a high price would be bought by a certain number of idiots who would not buy anything of mine for a penny or a shilling. However, you can judge for yourself: my chief object in writing to you is to remind you that if the play is to be printed, it will need all the send-off it will get from the criticism and discussion of the performance; and as this is to take place (if it does not fall through) on the 9th Dec., we must literally rush into print. A simple and not too expensive way of making an édition de luxe of it will be to illustrate with photographs of the cast in costume. The leading lady is a very goodlooking woman, I might remark. It ought to be quite a quarto—not too large, but just large enough.

Your suggestion came into my mind this afternoon for the first time with full force. To confess the truth, the chief attraction to me is the opportunity of presenting a copy to each of the actors, who are all playing for nothing. So dont set too much store by my favorable view of the chance of a sale.

yours faithfully

G. Bernard Shaw

25/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 25th November 1892

Fabian Members’ Meeting. Barnard’s Inn. 20. Eight Hours Committee Report, Appointment of Auditors, and Miss [Emma Frances] Brooke’s resolution re framing new Constitution. Press View. [Prince Paul] Troubetskoy’s portraits and studies in oils. Dowdeswell’s. Press View. Miniatures at the Fine Art Society. Press View. Old Water Colour Society. 5 Pall Mall East. Press View. Stephen Coleridge’s oil studies, Water Ways of England, at Dowdeswell’s. Rehearsal, Mona Hotel. 12.30.

Went in to town by the 10.17 train and did the Bond St. Galleries before rehearsal. [James] Welch turned up to play Lickcheese; and we rehearsed the first two acts for the first time with the full cast. Afterwards I dined with FE [Florence Emery] at the Orange Grove and then went to the Old Water Colour Society. Then home, where I found Mrs Sparling [née May Morris] visiting my mother. JP [Mrs Jane Patterson] and Georgie [G.B.S.’s aunt] came in later on. I had to speak several times at the Fabian. Came home with Sparling.

Train Ravenscourt Park to St James’s Pk 6d Dinner (at O. G.) (2) 2/2 Justice 1d Star 1 Train Ptld Rd to Farringdon 2d Temple to Ravenscourt Pk 6d

26/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 27th November 1892

SUNDAY Off—Club evicted. Lecture on “Practical Communism” at the Workpeople’s Educational Club. 40 Berners St. Commercial Rd. E. 20. (C. W. [Charles William] Mowbray, 25 Little Alie St., Leman St. E.). Unemployed Committee. 337 Strand. 11.30. [Walter] Crane lectures on his American trip at Kelmscott House. 20.

We did not get back from the Committee until 14. I met Mowbray there and learned that the lecture was off. [Ernest Belfort] Bax and another man whose name I forget came in in the evening. We all went to Crane’s lecture. Had a few words with Mrs [Louise] Jopling[-Rowe] afterwards. Very busy writing interview for the Star [about Widowers’ Houses]. Up late over it. I did not go in to supper at Morris’s in order to get back to work.

Train Ravenscourt Pk to Temple & back 1/—

27/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 5th December 1892

Fabian Executive. 17. Monday Pop. [Johannes] Brahms’s Clarinet Quintet. Muhlfeld. 20. Also next Saturday. Jeanne Douste’s recital. Prince’s Hall. 20. Rehearsal. 1.

Was not down to breakfast until 11. Wrote letters, and tried to write up this diary for the past week. Did not attend the rehearsal [of Widowers’ Houses], as I promised to keep away so as to leave them to get their words. Came back with Sparling [née May Morris] from Executive.

Train to Ptld Rd 7d Dinner 1/1? Macaroni &c at Gatti & Rodesano’s 1/8

28/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 8th December 1892

Special Fabian Executive on Unemployed Question. 17. Last rehearsal [of Widowers’ Houses]. 14.

Wrote a couple of letters and then walked into town. Left the theatre with FE [Florence Emery] at 18.15; and went with her to the door of the Orange Grove, where I left her and hurried on to the Executive. They were all gone except Miss Priestley and Sparling [née May Morris]. Miss [Isobel E.] Priestley [later Mrs Bart Kennedy] gave me her opinion of the play. Came back with Sparling. Got home a little after 20 or thereabouts. Wrote some letters, etc.

Bus Marble Arch to Halles St 1d Star 1 Dinner 10d Charles Hoppe, for pit tickets for Mrs Hewlett 5/– Train Temple to Ravenscourt Pk 6d

29/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 9th December 1892

Production of Widowers’ Houses by the Independent Theatre at the Royalty. 20. Wind Instrument Chamber Music Society 1st concert. Prince’s Hall. 20.

I forget what I did today, except—Oh, I remember. I went over to FE [Florence Emery] at about noon and stayed there for some hours. Then I walked into town. Made a speech at the end of the play. Spent the night at Fitzroy Square. Watchkey 3d

30/ To a British actor-manager and a barrister Charles Charrington

14th December 1892

Dear Charrington

If you have seen “Widowers’ Houses” you will understand that it was altogether too experimental to be put on anywhere except at the I.T. [Independent Theatre], least of all at the theatre of any manager for whom I had a ray of personal regard. All that could be done with it would be about three matinees run by some manager who had a theatre and a staff eating their heads off in the afternoon. The third matinee would perhaps bring the performance up to the level of a bad dress rehearsal. However, I have proved myself a man to be reckoned with. I have got the blue book across the footlights. I have made [James] Welch’s reputation and blasted Florence Farr’s. I have established the fact that Moy Thomas is the greatest dramatic critic of the age, and that [William] Archer & [Arthur Bingham] Walkley are a pair of idiots. I have appeared before the curtain amid transcendent hooting & retired amid cheers. And I have spent so much time at rehearsal that I am stark ruined, and am ruefully asking myself whether a continental trip for my health would not have been far more economical than all this theatrical glory. For of what value was it to me when J. A. C. [Janet Achurch, Mrs Charrington] was not there to see. As yesterday’s matinee was for the managers, I took it for granted that you would be there. I will try hard to get over to see you in the course of the next few days, tomorrow if no musical performance claims me—failing that, Monday. I am staying for the moment with H. H. [Henry Halliday] Sparling.

31/ William Archer’s review of Widowers’ Houses contributed to a British weekly paper The World

14th December 1892

. . . It is a pity that Mr Shaw should labour under a delusion as to the true bent of his talent, and, mistaking an amusing jeu d’sprit for a work of creative art, should perhaps be tempted to devote further time and energy to a form of production for which he has no special ability and some constitutional disabilities. A man of his power of mind can do nothing that is altogether contemptible. We may be quite sure that if he took palette and ‘commenced painter,’ or set to work to manipulate a lump of clay, he would produce a picture or a statue that would bear the impress of a keen intelligence, and would be well worth looking at. That is precisely the case of Widowers’ Houses. It is a curious example of what can be done in art by sheer brain-power, apart from natural aptitude. For it does not appear that Mr Shaw has any more specific talent for the drama than he has for painting or sculpture. . . .

32/ To William Archer

14th December 1892

[Dear Archer]

I have come to the conclusion that Moy Thomas (who sat it out again yesterday, every line) is the greatest critic of the age, and [Henry William] Massingham entirely right in his estimate of you and [Arthur Bingham] Walkley. A more amazing exposition of your Shaw theory even I have never encountered than that World article. Here am I, who have collected slum rents weekly with these hands, & for 4 years been behind the scenes of the middle class landowner—who have philandered with women of all sorts & sizes—and I am told gravely to go to nature & give up apriorizing about such matters by you, you sentimental Sweet Lavendery recluse. [Sweet Lavender is a play by Arthur Wing Pinero.] Get out!

GBS

33/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 18th December 1892

SUNDAY Lecture at Kelmscott House for the Hammersmith Socialist Society. 20. (Sparling).

Revised proof of letter to the Star in reply to critics of the play. Also World proof. This involved finishing the World article. After dinner I went out intending to go over to Clapham to see [Henry William] Massingham; but I mistook the hour of the train and missed it. I went to Bedford Park and visited the Pagets [brothers Henry Marriott Paget, Sidney Edward Paget and Walter Stanley Paget]. On my return I found [Reginald] Blomfield, [James Brand] Pinker, and Miss Dalbshoff here. Pinker stayed until long after 18. I had “tea” and then lay down and slept for more than half an hour. After the lecture I went into Morris’s to supper. [Ernest Belfort] Bax, who had taken the chair for me, was there; also Catterson Smith, Touzeau Parris, [Edward Spencer] Beesly, [Emery] Walker and [Samuel] Bullock. Bertha Newcombe was one of the afternoon callers.

34/ Bernard Shaw’s letter to the editor of The Star “Bernard Shaw replies to the critics of the Widowers’ Houses”

19th December 1892

The critics of my play Widowers’ Houses have now had their say. Will you be so good as to let the author have a turn? I know that I have had a full meal of advertisement, and that to ask for more seems greedy and ungrateful; but I said at the outset that I would boom this business for all I was worth; and if I omitted a “reply to my critics” I should feel that I had not done my complete utmost.

I have read every criticism of the play I could get hold of; and I think it is now clear that “the new drama” has no malice to fear from the serious critics. A few of the humorists have, of course, shewn all the unscrupulousness of their speciality; but they have amused us; and for that be all their sins forgiven them. There has been a touch of temper, too: one gentleman’s blood boiled to such an extent that he literally “saw red,” and solemnly assured the public that I wore a coat of that revolutionary hue. But the influential critics have, it seems to me, been not merely fair, but generous in their attitude. The care with which every possible admission in my favor has been made, even in the notices of those who found the play intolerably disagreeable and the author intolerably undramatic, shews that the loss of critical balance produced by the first shock of Ibsen’s Ghosts was only momentary, and that the most unconventional and obnoxious agitator-dramatist, even when he has gone out of his way to attack his critics, need not fear a Press vendetta. I have had fair play from my opponents, and considerably more than that from my partisans; and if this is how I fare, I do not see what anybody else need fear.

However, the fairness of criticism is one thing, its adequacy quite another. I do not hesitate to say that many of my critics have been completely beaten by the play simply because they are ignorant of society. Do not let me be misunderstood: I do not mean that they eat with their knives, drink the contents of their fingerbowls, or sit down to dinner in ulsters and green neckties. What I mean is that they do not know life well enough to recognize it in the glare of the footlights. They denounce Sartorius, my house-knacking widower, as a monstrous libel on the middle and upper class because he grinds his money remorselessly out of the poor. But they do not (and cannot) answer his argument as to the impossibility of his acting otherwise under our social system; nor do they notice the fact that though he is a bad landlord he is not in the least a bad man as men go. Even in his economic capacity I have made him a rather favorable specimen of his class. I might have made him a shareholder in a match factory where avoidable “phossy jaw” was not avoided, or in a tram company working its men seventeen and a half hours a day, or in a railway company with a terrible deathroll of mangled shunters, or in a whitelead factory, or a chemical works: in short, I might have piled on the agony beyond the endurance of my audience, and yet not made him one whit worse than thousands of personally amiable and respected men who have invested in the most lucrative way the savings they have earned or inherited. I will not ask those critics who are so indignant with my “distorted and myopic outlook on society” what they will do with the little money their profession may enable them to save. I will simply tell them what they must do with it, and that is to follow the advice of their stockbroker as to the safest and most remunerative investment, reserving their moral scruples for the expenditure of the interest, and their sympathies for the treatment of the members of their own families. Even in spending the interest they will have no alternative but to get the best value they can for their money without regard to the conditions under which the articles they buy are produced. They will take a domestic pride in their comfortable houses full of furniture made by “slaughtered” (i.e. extra-sweated) cabinet makers, and go to church or to dinner in shirts sewn by women who can only bring their wages up to subsistence point by prostitution. What will they say to Sartorius then? What, indeed, can they say to him now?—these “guilty creatures sitting at a play” who, instead of being struck to the soul and presently proclaiming their male-factions, are naïvely astonished and revolted at the spectacle of a man on the stage acting as we are all acting perforce every day. I can turn Sartorius from a house knacker into a dramatic critic quite easily without robbing the drama of its essential truth, and certainly without robbing the satire of its pungency. The notion that the people in Widowers’ Houses are abnormally vicious or odious could only prevail in a community in which Sartorius is absolutely typical in his unconscious villainy. Like my critics, he lacks conviction of sin. Now, the didactic object of my play is to produce conviction of sin, to make the Pharisee who repudiates Sartorius as either a Harpagon [a character of a comedy The Miser by the French playwright Molière] or a diseased dream of mine, and thanks God that such persons do not represent his class, recognize that Sartorius is his own photograph. It is vain for the virtuous dramatic critic to tell me that he does not own slum property: all I want to see is the label on his matchbox, or his last week’s washing bill, in order to judge for myself whether he really ever gives a second thought to Sartorius’s tenants, who make his matchboxes and wash his stockings so cheaply.

As to the highly connected young gentleman, naturally straightforward and easygoing, who bursts into genuine indignation at the sufferings of the poor, and, on being shewn that he cannot help them, becomes honestly cynical and throws off all responsibility whatever, that is nothing but the reality of the everyday process known as disillusion. His allowing the two business men to get his legs under their mahogany, and to persuade him to “stand in” with a speculation of which he understands nothing except that he is promised some money out of it, will surprise no one who knows the City and has seen the exploitation of aristocratic names by City promoters spread from needy guinea-pig colonels, and lords with courtesy titles, to eldest sons of the noblest families. If I had even represented Harry Trench as letting himself in for eighteen months hard labor for no greater crime than that of being gambler enough to be the too willing dupe of a swindler, the incident would be perfectly true to life. As to the compensation speculation in the third act being a fraud which no gentleman would have countenanced, that opinion is too innocent to be discussed. I can only say that as the object of the scheme is to make a haul at the expense of the ratepayers collectively, it is much less cruel and treacherous in its incidence than the sort of speculation which made the late Mr Jay Gould universally respected during his lifetime. I shall be told next that the Prince of Wales is not a gentleman because he plays baccarat; that copper cornerers like Mr [Pierre-Eugène] Secrétan, and cotton cornerers like Mr [William] Steenstrand, are not admited into society; that Pearson’s Weekly had no reputable subscribers; and that Panama [Canal] is a dream of mine.

There is a curious idea in the minds of some of my critics that I have given away my case by representing the poor man, Lickcheese, as behaving exactly as the rich man does when he gets the chance. These gentle-men believe that, according to me, what is wrong with society is that the rich, who are all wicked, oppress the poor, who are all virtuous. I will not waste the space of The Star by dealing with such a misconception further than to curtly but goodhumoredly inform those who entertain it that they are fools. I administer the remark, not as an insult, but as a tonic.

Most of the criticisms of my heroine, Blanche Sartorius, are summed up in the remark of the servant whom she throttles: “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Miss Blanche, so you ought.” I admit that she ought not to have vented her rage on the servant; but it must be remembered in extenuation that she had no sister. On another point in her conduct one critic makes an objection which, I confess, amazed me. Sartorius, as the son of a very poor woman, knows that the poor are human beings exactly like himself. But his daughter, brought up as a lady, conceives them as a different and inferior species. “I hate the poor” she says. “At least, I hate those dirty, drunken, disreputable people who live like pigs.” The critic in question, whose bias towards myself is altogether friendly, cannot conceive that a young lady would avow such inhuman sentiments: hypocrisy, he contends, would prevent her if her heart did not. I can only refer him, if he has really never heard such sentiments boasted of by ladies, to the comments of The Times and the St James’s Gazette (to name no other papers written by gentlemen for gentlemen) on the unemployed, on the starving Irish peasants whose rents have since been reduced wholesale in the Irish land courts, or on the most heavily sweated classes of workers whose miserable plight has been exposed before the Housing of the Poor and Sweating Commissions, to prove that the thinkers and writers of Blanche Sartorius’s party vie with each other in unconscious—nay, conscientious—brutality, callousness, and class prejudice when they speak of the proletariat. Hypocrisy with them takes the shape of dissembling sympathy with the working class when they really feel it, not of affecting it when they do not feel it. My friend and critic must remember the savage caricatures of William Morris, John [Elliot] Burns, Miss Helen Taylor, Mrs [Annie] Besant, &c., in which [a British weekly magazine of humour and satire] Punch once indulged, as well as the outrageous calumnies which were heaped on the late Mr [Charles] Bralaugh during his struggle to enter Parliament, and the remonstrance of The Saturday Review with the Government for not hanging myself, Mr Sidney Webb, and other London reformers in 1885-7, not to mention the cases of unsocial conduct by county gentlemen and magistrates that are exposed every week in the “Pillory” columns of Truth. Am I to be told that the young ladies who read these papers in our suburban villas are less narrow and better able to see across the frontiers of their own class than the writers whom they support? The fact is that Blanche’s class prejudices, like those of the other characters in the play, are watered down instead of exaggerated. The whole truth is too monstrous to be told otherwise than by degrees.

Now comes the question, How far does all this touch the merits of the play as a work of art? Obviously not at all; but it has most decidedly touched the value of the opinions of my critics on that point. The evidence of the notices (I have sheaves of them before me) is irresistible. With hardly an exception the men who find my sociology wrong are also the men who find my dramatic workmanship bad; and vice versa. Even the criticism of the acting is biased in the same way. The effect on me, of course, is to reassure me completely as to my own competence as a playwright. The very success with which I have brought all the Philistines and sentimental idealists down on me proves the velocity and penetration with which my realism got across the footlights. I am well accustomed to judge the execution I have done by the cries of the wounded.

On one point, however, I heartily thank my critics for their unanimous forbearance. Not one of them has betrayed the absurdities and impossibilities which abound in the political and commercial details of the play. They have even declared that here I am on my own ground, and that here consequently I rise, competent and entertaining, above criticism. Considering that I have made a resident in Surbiton eligible as a St Giles vestry-man; that I have made the London County Council contemporary with the House of Lords Commission on the Housing of the Working Class; that I have represented an experienced man of business as paying seven percent on a first mortgage; that I have finished up with an unprecedented and farfetched mortgage transaction which will not stand criticism by any expert from the City: considering, in short, that I have recklessly sacrificed realism to dramatic effect in the machinery of the play, I feel, as may be well imagined, deeply moved by the compliments which have been paid me on my perfect knowledge of economics and business. Thanks, brothers, thanks.

In conclusion, let me say that whilst I shall not affect to attribute the difference between myself and most of my critics to anything else but the pretty plain fact that I know my subject much better than they do, I claim no much more for the play than that it has served its turn: better, perhaps, than a better play. My point of view is being reached by larger and larger masses of the people; and when it has become quite common, everybody will see a good many more faults in Widowers’ Houses than have been yet discovered by anyone except yours truly

G. Bernard Shaw

35/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 22nd December 1892

(at Kelmscott [House])

Set to work making an album of all the press notices of the play [Widowers’ Houses]. Cold weather, very muddy underfoot. [Henry Halliday] Sparling and I went for a walk before dinner. The routine here is that Sparling and I work all day in the green room, the others visiting us occasionally, but using the tapestry room. Breakfast at 9; dinner at 13; afternoon tea at about 17; and supper at 19. Then we all go up to the tapestry room and play at “20 Questions.” All except Morris and myself go to bed at about 22 or 23. We sit up and jaw a bit longer. Tonight [William] Morris talked a lot about Iceland. This evening we had the mummers in.

36/ To the head of the publishing firm of David Nutt Ltd. Alfred Trübner Nutt

27th December 1892

Dear Sir

I have only succeeded in getting together one complete MS of the play [Widowers’ Houses], which I am correcting, fitting with a preface &c. I must hold on to it until the job is finished. Meanwhile I have had a couple of offers for its publication—three, in fact. One of them is from a firm in which Mr [Jacob Thomas] Grein, of the Independent Theatre, is interested. They propose to try a half crown edition, with a sixpenny royalty; and I am rather inclined, on Grein’s account, to accept this if I can satisfy myself that the firm in question has the requisite circulating machinery. Do you think you could do better for me than this? The reason I ask you to bid for a pig in a poke is that the quality of the bacon is hardly in question this time. Three months ago the play would certainly not have been worth publishing. Today a heap of articles and notices (my own collection of press cuttings runs over 130, and is far from complete) has presumably created some curiosity about the work; and it is the value of the curiosity that is now in the market. It is on this basis, and not on that of the literary value of the MS (as to which I have my own unalterable opinion) that I want an offer.

yrs faithfully

G. Bernard Shaw

P.S. I return to town on Wednesday; so that my address is still 29 Fitzroy Square. W.

37/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 27th December 1892

The Birchalls [the Reverend Oswald Birchall and his wife Katherine Mary Birchall] came to dinner. In the morning May [Morris], [Henry Halliday] Sparling and I took a walk down the river and back. I worked at copying bits out of press notices for quotation in the preface to Widowers’ Houses. Wrote a letter to The Speaker in reply to an article on the play.

38/ Bernard Shaw’s letter to the editor of The Speaker “Unconscious villainy and Widowers’ Houses”

31st December 1892

I now, as an experienced critic, approach the question which is really the most interesting from the critical point of view. Is it possible to treat the artistic quality of a play altogether independently of its scientific quality? For example, is it possible for a critic to be perfectly appreciative and perfectly incredulous and half insensible at the same time? I do not believe it for a moment. No point in a drama can produce any effect at all unless the spectator perceives it and accepts it as a real point; and this primary condition being satisfied, the force of the effect will depend on the extent to which the point interests the spectator: that is, seems momentous to him. The spectacle of Hamlet fencing with an opponent whose foil is “unbated” and poisoned produces its effect because the audience knows the danger; but there are risks just as thrilling to those who know them, risks of cutting arteries in certain surgical operations, risks of losing large sums by a momentary loss of nerve in the money market, risks of destroying one’s whole character by an apparently trifling step, perils of all sorts which may give the most terrible intensity to a scene in the eyes of those who have the requisite technical knowledge or experience of life to understand the full significance of what they are witnessing, but which would produce as little effect on others as the wheeling forward of a machine gun on a hostile tribe of savages unacquainted with “the resources of civilization.” One can imagine the A.B.W. [Arthur Bingham Walkley, an English public servant and drama critic] of the tribe saying, before the explosion, “This may be artillery—whatever artillery means—but it is not fighting,” just as our own A.B.W., whom it is my glory to have floored and driven into mere evasion, says of my play “This may be the New Economics, which I do not profess to understand, but it is not drama.” All I can say is that I find drama enough in it, and that the play has not fallen flat enough to countenance A.B.W.’s assumption that his anaesthesia is my fault instead of his own. It has long been clear to me that nothing will ever be done for the theatre until the most able dramatists refuse to write down to the level of that imaginary monster, the British Public. We want a theatre for people who have lived, thought, and felt, and who have some real sense that women are human beings just like men, only worse brought up, and consequently worse behaved. In such a theatre the mere literary man who has read and written instead of living until he has come to feel fiction as experience and to resent experience as fiction, would be as much out of place as the ideal B.P. itself. Well, let him sit out his first mistaken visit quietly and not come again; for it is quite clear that it is only by holding the mirror up to literature that the dramatist pleases him, whereas it is only by holding it up to nature that good work is produced. In such a theatre Widowers’ Houses would rank as a trumpery farcical comedy; whereas, in the theatre of today, it is excitedly discussed as a daringly original sermon, political essay, satire, Drapier’s Letters [by Jonathan Swift], or what not, even by those who will not accept it as a play on any terms. And all because my hero did not, when he heard that his income came from slum property, at once relinquish it (i.e. make it a present to Sartorius without benefiting the tenants) and go to the goldfields to dig out nuggets with his strong right arm so that he might return to wed his Blanche after a shipwreck (witnessed by her in a vision), just in time to rescue her from beggary, brought upon her by the discovery that Lickcheese was the rightful heir to the property of Sartorius, who had dispossessed and enslaved him by a series of forgeries unmasked by the faithful Cokane. (If this is not satisfactory I can reel off half a dozen alternative “dramatic” plots within ten minutes’ thought, and yet I am told I have no dramatic capacity.) I wonder whether it was lack of capacity, or superabundance of it, that led me to forgo all this “drama” by making my hero do exactly what he would have done in real life: that is, apologize like a gentleman (in the favorable sense) for accusing another man of his own unconscious rascality, and admit his inability to change a world which would not take the trouble to change itself? A.B.W., panting for the renunciation, the goldfields, and the nuggets, protests that I struck “a blow in the air.” That is precisely what I wanted to do, being tired of blows struck in the vacuum of stageland. And the way in which the blow, trifling as it was, has sent the whole critical squadron reeling, and for the moment knocked all the breath out of the body of the New Criticism itself, shews how absurdly artificial the atmosphere of the stalls had become. The critics who have kept their heads, counting hostile and favorable ones together, do not make five percent of the whole body.

G. Bernard Shaw

39/ Bernard Shaw’s diary

Preliminary Notes 1893

BOOKS FOR REVIEW

Title & Author Paper [Received] [Posted] [Published]

Wagner’s Prose Works The Daily Chronicle 9/1/– 15/2/– 18/2/-

Vol. I, W. Ashton Ellis (translator)

Mediztval Lore, Bartholo-

mew Anglicus, ed. by

Robert Steele; pref.

by William Morris 20/1/– 1/2/– 13/2/-

Land Nationalisation,

Harold Cox 28/1/– 2/2/– 4/4/–

Essays on Vegetarianism,

A. J. Hills 3/2/–?

Form & Design in Music.

H. Heathcote Statham. 10/5/– 31/5/–

The Beethoven—Cramer Studies,

J. S. Shedlock, ed. The World 27/2/–?

Voice Training Primer,

Mrs Behuke & D.C.W. Pearce. 3/6/–

INTRODUCTIONS

To Miss [Nellie] Erichsen by Bertha Newcombe at Joubert’s Studio. 24th April.

To [Henry Jackson Wells] Dam by Ernest Parke, Express Dairy, Fleet St. 3 June.

Mrs Francis Adams, by the Salts [Henry Stephens Salt and Mrs Salt née Catherine Kate Joynes], Hygeian Restaurant. 20th September.

HEALTH

On the 21st January I got a headache in the afternoon that was almost a sick headache. Had the remains of it in the morning; but it passed off.

On the 23rd April had a slight headache in the evening.

During the week ending the 14th May I had a cold of a tolerably pronounced sort. It left me with a nervous cough; but when I spoke in the open air on the Sunday evening I thought I was rid of it. On the night of Monday the 15th, however, I was very feverish and the next night was almost as bad. I interpreted my condition as due to the return of the influenza.

On the 5th June I felt very much out of sorts, as if I had caught cold in my inside. For the first time in my life I found although I could pass urine without any difficulty, yet at the end of the operation came a severe pang. This frightened and disconcerted me a good deal. Evidently a cystitis. It lasted about a fortnight. All through this period I was extremely weak physically, well as far as appearance went, but very easily fatigued and not very far above prostration point. I attributed all this to the fact of the influenza. About the last week of June I began to recover a good deal.

In August and September I got some change and holiday at Zurich and with the Webbs [Sidney and Beatrice Webb] in the Valley of the Wye. I came home to town in rougher and coarser health than I have enjoyed for a long time. But on the 28th September I caught cold by sitting in FE [Florence Emery]’s rooms with no fire and the window open at the top behind me, producing the sort of draught which always gives me colds.

40/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 4th January 1893

Be at Downey’s the photographers, Ebury St., at 12 to sit for portrait for Cassell’s Cabinet Portrait Gallery. Put off to Saturday by the fog. Call on Sidney Webb in the afternoon and bring him MS of Fortnightly article. Arnold Dolmetsch’s lecture on Viol and Lute music, with concert, at the Midland Grand Hotel. 15.

When I got into town I found a fog there. It was impossible for Downey to photograph me; so I arranged to go again on Saturday. I walked home and got my letters. Wrote a couple of letters, especially one to [Pakenham Thomas] Beatty. At the Webbs’ I met a man named [Sidney] Ball. [Henry William] Massingham was there also. I came back by the 19.22 train and called on FE, returning her volume of Browning. Then back to the Terrace where I had something to eat and immediately started off to the skating ground, which I did not reach until 21.50. I skated until 22, having the lake to myself most of the time. When I got back I wrote a few postcards and pasted a notice or two into the Widowers’ Houses scrapbook, besides writing up this diary.

Train Ravenscourt Pk to Victoria 6d Star d Dinner at the café opposite Portland Rd 1/8 Train Kings + to Finchley Rd 7d Finchley Rd to Hammersmith (L. & N. W.) 8d Skating, Grove Park, 6d

41/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 5th January 1893

Stayed at Hammersmith all day working at the appendix to Widowers’ Houses. Got the draft finished at about 16 in the afternoon. Went up to the workroom and played for an hour and a half or so; and then went off and had tea with FE, who brought me to the skating ground at Grove Park—not the one I have hitherto gone to. She left me after five minutes walk of it and turned back to go to the theatre. I skated from 20 to 22 and came back here. Wrote up this diary and read over the appendix.

Skating—Tappington’s pond 6d

42/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 10th January 1893

Finished the revision of the play [Widowers’ Houses]. Quite forgot to dine in the middle of the day. [Graham] Wallas called in the afternoon. Went into the City to buy some woolen things and to arrange about exchanging my typewriter for a new one. Went back for a while to the Square and wrote to Henry and Co. about the terms of agreement for the play [Widowers’ Houses]. Then went to FE and stayed there until near midnight. Came back to Hammersmith Terrace to sleep. Began reading [Robert] Buchanan’s Wandering Jew, a copy of which arrived from him in the evening.

Telegram to Lincoln 6d Train to Moorgate (return not used) 5d Paid Barlock Co for new typewriter to exchange against my old one £8/17/6 Shirt & pants at Lutz’s 13/4 Train Mansion House to Charing + 22d Dinner at Orange Grove 2/– Star d Pick Me Up 1d Train Portland Rd to Shepherds Bush 6d

43/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 19th January 1893

London Symphony Concert. St. James’s Hall. 20. Lyric Theatre, first night of The Magic Opal [a libretto by Arthur Law, composed by Senor Albeniz].

Began World article and made a large hole in it. After dinner went to the Stores to make some further purchases. Just after coming out met Archer and turned back with him to Waterloo, where he was going to catch the 17.25 train. I walked back and corrected and sent off the Fortnightly proof, besides writing to Frank Harris about it. Sent off MS of Widowers’ Houses to Henry and Co. Got to the theatre rather late. After the first act I went over to St. James’s Hall and heard Brahms’s Symphony in F and Mrs [Katherine] Fiske’s solo. Then returned to the theatre. Wrote up this diary on my return, and wrote a couple of postcards, but did not go out to post them.

Star d Dinner at Hygeian 1/8 12 inch rule 5d Condy’s Fluid 1/6 Postage of MS to Henry & Co 3d Registration 2d

44/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 23rd January 1893

Fabian Central Group Meeting. 32 Great Ormond St. R.W. Reynolds on “Rousseau’s Ghost in Modern Politics.” 20. Meeting at 276 Strand between 7 Fabian delegates and the “Olive Branch” Committee of the Hammersmith Socialist Society, to discuss possibility of a Socialist Alliance. Tobias Matthay’s pianoforte recital (his own compositions). Royal Academy of Music. 20.

Suddenly remembered that I had forgotten to correct the World proof; so started for town early, but called on FE on the way and so did not get here until 13. Corrected proof and sent it off by express postal messenger. After dinner met [Eduard] Bernstein in Oxford St. and walked about Bloomsbury with him for a long time arguing about [August] Bebel and [Paul] Singer’s treatment of the Fabian, and about [Karl] Marx. Walter [Gurly] called a little after I got home but did not stay long. I worked at the postscript to Widowers’ Houses until 19, when I went off to the Fabian.

Papers 1d Train Shepherds Bush to Portland Rd 6d Express postal messenger for World proof 6d

Dinner at Hygeian 1/– Telegram to Bertha Newcombe 6d

45/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 24th January 1893

Arnold Dolmetsch’s Viol concert. Barnard’s Inn. 20. First of the [Theodor] Plowitz concerts. Prince’s Hall. 20. Call on Bertha Newcombe in the afternoon.

Began preface for Widowers’ Houses and worked at it until 15. Met [James Mackey] Glover on my way to dinner. He asked me to go to see his ballet and I promised to do so tomorrow. I sat with Bertha Newcombe until near 19 when [Bertha’s mother] Mrs Newcombe joined us. Parted from them outside the studio. Went to Baker St. by mistake thinking that the concert was at Steinway Hall instead of in Piccadilly.

Star d Dinner at Orange Grove 1/2 Train St James’s Park to Sloane Sq 1 d Cocoa, eggs &c in Aerated Bread Shop in Kings Rd 10d Train Sloane Sq to Baker St 6d

46/ To a postal worker, Fabian fellow and socialist lecturer Amy Lawrence

27th January 1893

[Dear Amy Lawrence]

Widowers’ Houses is in the printer’s hands; but when it will be out of them is more than I can say.

What on earth do people mean by ‘types’? I suppose you and I are types of the people who are just like us; but that seems hardly worth saying. There was no intention to make anybody in the play more of a type than that. When you read it you will find Blanche natural enough. Owing to difficulties which the public knew nothing about & which were the fault of circumstances alone, the representation was not quite successful in bringing out the provocation under which the young lady acted.

GBS

47/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 30th January 1893

Go up to Philip Webb in the evening and bring him back [Alexander] Emonds’ essays.

Felt good for nothing. Set to work pasting up the scrap book containing notices etc. of Widowers’ Houses. Wrote to Johnson of Manchester and to Lady Colin Campbell. Did not go out to dinner, but played and sang a bit and dawdled irresolutely. Went out at about 17 and took a meal at the Wheatsheaf, after which I called on [William] Archer. Went on after that to [Philip] Webb, with whom I spent the rest of the evening very pleasantly. Talking about art, as usual, and about the proposed Socialist Alliance. Was much disturbed at night by noises in the Square. Could not get to sleep for a long time.

Soup & eggs at Wheatsheaf 1/2

48/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 13th February 1893

Monday Pop. Joachim. Fabian Central Group Meeting. 32 Great Ormond St. J. F. [Joseph Francis] Oakeshott on “Why Do We Want Socialism?” 20. Changed to 15 Museum Mansion, Russell Square, through [Graham] Wallas’s illness. St. Pancras Vestry Hall. Meeting on behalf of the Unemployed. 20.

Spent all the working part of the day drafting agreement for the publication of Widowers’ Houses, and sent it off to Henry and Co. Wrote to [John] Burns and [Sidney] Webb about the Trade Union clause in it. Took a nap before tea. Then discovered that I had not posted the World proof on Saturday night. Rushed off with it to New Street Square—too late to be of any use. Walked back and wrote several letters, especially one to Miss [Isobel E.] Priestley about her friend who wants to go on the stage.

Dinner 10d Star d Justice 1d Train to Farringdon 2d

49/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 21st February 1893

George Moore’s Strike at Arlingford at the Opera Comique. 20. Independent Theatre Society.

Corrected and sent off [Charles] Charrington’s review to the Charringtons—or rather to Janet [Achurch, his wife], for their approval. In the afternoon went out to Morris’s to submit to him the proof of the page of Widowers’ Houses just sent by the printer. He could not suggest anything better. Janie [Mrs William Morris née Burden] was there; and [Sydney Carlyle] Cockerell; and Mrs Norman [née Ménie Muriel Dowie] called whilst I was there. After the play got a cab for Bertha Newcombe and Miss [Maud] McCarthy. Home in the rain and sent off the page to Henry and Co.

Express messenger with the interview to Janet Achurch 3d Papers 1d Train to Hammersmith 4d

Back 4d Program at IT [Independent Theatre] 6d

50/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 22nd February 1893

Annual meeting of the Hammersmith District Labour Council at The Ship, Hammersmith Bridge Rd., at 20. (C. F. Brown, 21 Alexandra Rd., West Kensington Park W.). Fabian Publishing Committee. 276 Strand. 17. [Charles] Hallé’s Concert. St. James’s Hall. 20. The Manchester Band.

Miserably wet day. Got a letter from JP [Mrs Jane (Jenny) Patterson], which I burnt at the first glance. Wrote to tell her so, feeling the uselessness of doing anything else. Wrote a scrap of further preface for Widowers’ Houses; but soon gave it up, feeling out of sorts. My impression is that I am getting out of health for want of exercise. I dined here on my macaroni and then put on my mackintosh and walked up to Hampstead to Sidney Webb to consult him about Sophie Bryant’s complaints of the Technical Education Committee. But he was not there, nor his wife, both having gone out to dine. I forgot about the Publishing Committee. When I went down to the Hallé Concert, half an hour late in consequence of having been delayed by an inopportune call from [J. T.] Blanchard, I could not get in—at least there was only standing room; so I came away, rather out of temper at their not having sent me a seat. When I got home I wrote up this diary and wrote a few cards. Was rather interested in the papers because of the criticisms of [George Augustus] Moore’s play.

Papers 5d Train Finchley Rd to Portland Rd 4d

51/ To an Irish poet, playwright and novelist Oscar Wilde

28th February 1893

My dear Wilde

Salomé [Salomé is a one-act tragedy by Oscar Wilde.] is still wandering in her purple raiment in search of me; and I expect her to arrive a perfect outcast, branded with inky stamps, bruised by flinging from hard hands into red prison vans, stifled and contaminated by herding with review books in the World cells, perhaps outraged by some hasty literary pathologist whose haste to lift the purple robe blinded him to the private name on the hem. In short, I suspect that they have muddled it up with the other books in York St.; and I have written to them to claim my own.

I have always said that the one way of abolishing the Censor is to abolish the Monarchy of which he is an appendage. But the brute could be lamed if only the critics and authors would make real war on him. The reason they wont is that they are all Puritans at heart. And the coming powers—the proletarian voters—will back their Puritanism unless I can lure the Censor into attacking the political freedom of speech on the stage. I enclose you a red bill to shew you what I mean. That bill was designed by the active spirits of the dock district at the east end. Observe the H stuck into the middle of my plain Bernard (I wonder they did not make it Bernhardt), and the title ‘Democratic IDEALS,’ all their own ‘taste.’ There is political life and hope in the bill; but as far as Art is concerned, there is all Maida Vale, with the great Academic desert beyond, for them to pass through before they enter into the Promised Land—an ocean of sentimentality, dried up on the farther coast into a Sahara of pedantry. That is what we have to half fight down, half educate up, if we are to get rid of Censorships, official and unofficial. And when I say we, I mean [William] Morris the Welshman and Wilde and Shaw the Irishmen; for to learn from Frenchmen is a condescension impossible for an Englishman.

I hope soon to send you my play ‘Widowers’ Houses,’ which you will find tolerably amusing, considering that it is a farcical comedy. Unfortunately I have no power of producing beauty: my genius is the genius of intellect, and my farce its derisive brutality. Salomé’s purple garment would make Widowers’ Houses ridiculous; but you are precisely the man to appreciate it on that account

I saw [your] Lady Windermere’s Fan, in its early days, & have often wished to condole with you—since nobody else did—on the atrocious acting of it. I except Marion Terry, and I let off poor Lilian Hanbury, whose fault was want of skill rather than want of enlightenment; but all the rest were damnable, utterly damnable. I hope you will follow up hard on that tail; for the drama wants building up very badly, and it is clear that your work lies there. Besides, you have time and opportunity for work, which none of the rest of us have. And that reminds me of the clock; so farewell for the moment.

GBS

52/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 8th March 1893

Israel in Egypt [by George Frideric Handel] at the Albert Hall. Royal Choral Society.

Corrected proofs of Widowers’ Houses. As it was a very fine day I went off to FE [Florence Emery née Farr], who got some purchase and came off with me to Kew and then on the water to Richmond. We called for [C. Duncan] Lewis but he was out. We had a meal at Ferrari’s and then took a walk in the park. Then back to killing Rd. I came back by the 22.37 train

53/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 12th March 1893

SUNDAY Lecture on “The Evolution of Socialism” at the Tottenham Radical Club (H. Bond Holding, 7 Lynwood Villas, Wood Green N.). Train Liverpool St to Bruce Grove. 19.25; return 21.57.

[Went to] Tottenham. Finished and sent off appendix to Widowers’ Houses—last of the copy. Wrote notes for World on Spitzer catalogue and, finished World article. Went to the Grosvenor with [Hubert] Morgan-Browne in the evening.

54/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 21st March 1893

Fabian Publishing Committee. 276 Strand. 17. Sub-Committee Joint Socialist, at Morris’s, at 20. Trinity College. Mandeville Place. Students’ Chamber Concert and Conversazione. 20 to 23.

Slept by snatches, disturbed by the hammering of the workmen at the drains, until past 11; so that I was abominably late. Again read over the preface to Widowers’ Houses—fortunately, as I found one or two stupid oversights in it. After dinner called for [William] Archer, but he was in the country. I then, having an hour to kill before the Publishing Committee, called on the Carrs’ [Herbert Wildon Carr and Geraldine Carr née Spooner] found Geraldine there. She has taken to painting at the Slade School. Carr came in afterwards. After the Committee I went out to Hammersmith with [May] Sparling and had “tea” at the Terrace. Before dinner I had to go to Bloomsbury to the lavatory there, as the one at Portland Rd. was out of order.

Lavatory, Bloomsbury 1d Papers 1d Dinner 1/1 Train Temple to Rav[enscour]t Pk 6d Hammer-

smith to Portland Rd 6d

55/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 22nd March 1893

Mrs Morgan-Brown’s At-Home. 46 Ridgmount Gardens. 16-19. Boat Race. 15. Sparlings’ [Henry Halliday Sparling and Mrs Sparling née May Morris]. Meet [Joseph Francis] Oakeshott at the Wheatsheaf at 14 and walk out together. Ridley Art Club; see Saturday last.

Drafted advert of Independent Theatre for Widowers’ Houses. Played through some of Verdi’s Falstaff. The Salts [Henry Stephens Salt and Mrs Salt née Catherine (Kate) Joynes] were at the Wheatsheaf; and Mrs Salt walked with me to the Circus, Salt coming behind with Oakeshott. They left us at the Circus. Oakeshott and I walked out to Hammersmith. We met Bertha and Mabel Newcombe on the way and put them into a cab. After the Race I went into Walkers’ [Emery Walker and his wife Mary Grace Walker née Jones] for a while. Then I returned to Sparlings’, where there were still a good many people. Eventually all left except the Steffens [Gustav Steffen and Anna Oscara Steffen née von Sydow] and Miss [Isobel E.] Priestley, who made an elaborate examination of my hand and described my character. We did some playing later in the evening. I came back with Miss Priestley by the 23.5 train, and saw her home to Woburn Place.

Papers 1d Lavatory ld Dinner 1/3 Tip to cab tout 6d Train Ravenscourt Park to Gower St 9d

56/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 23rd March 1893

Last day for nominations for Fabian Executive. Philharmonic Concert. St. James’s Hall. 20. Fabian Publishing Committee. 276 Strand. 17. Meet Miss Leeds (Miss Priestley’s friend) at the Fabian office at 16.45.

Began World article. Returned here after dinner to change my clothes and wash. After the Committee [Sydney] Olivier came with me to the Orange Grove. I left the concert at the end of the first part. When I got home I read the last proofs of Widowers’ Houses and sent them off. Also began reading Archer’s article “The Mausoleum of Ibsen” in proof and MS.

Lavatory 1d Hair cut &c 1/– Papers 1d Dinner 3d “Tea” at Orange Grove 1/6

57/ To William Archer

24th March 1893

I leave the article [The Mausoleum of Ibsen], which seems to me good enough in spite of its inhumanity, except on one point. The explanation of the success of the translations on the stage is that in middle class social and political life Norway is the microcosm and England is the macrocosm. As I have often told you, if you would only join the local caucus, you would see at once that An Enemy of the People [by Henrik Johan Ibsen] comes home to Holborn as closely as A Doll’s House [by Henrik Johan Ibsen] comes home to Brixton and Holloway, which are just as narrow and provincial as Norway. Ninetyfive per cent of an Ibsen play is as true of any English town as it is of Christiania; and the odd five per cent is not sufficient to make the performance in the least puzzling. Probably this is less true of France; but modern commercialism levels all nations down to the same bourgeois life, and raises the same problems for realist playwrights, though not for romantic ones. This is what destroys the whole parallel between [Jean-Baptiste Poquelin alias] Molière and Co. (as far as translation is concerned) and Ibsen; and I think you owe it to your reputation to shew that the difference is within the sphere of your consciousness in the article. Even apart from realist plays the drama is more international than you represent it; for most of the adaptations—especially the most successful ones—are very close translations. It is the ultraadapted ones that fail.

The note about the theatres on page 76 of the MS had better come out, because the description of the Novelty [Theatre] is, I think distinctly libellous, and the other two instances are more of the nature of apologies.

The tone of the article generally is one of devilish malignity towards the unfortunate [critic Clement] Scott and the rest. They may deserve it; but when Widowers’ Houses celebrates its six hundredth night, Scott will have his revenge.

I leave you the two sheets of W. H. [Widowers’ Houses] which were missing from the set of proofs I sent you before. There are two points to admire: first, the ingenuity with which I have secured a preface by William Archer without running any of the risks which destroyed poor [Henry Arthur] Jones; and second, the sublime preface by [Jacob Thomas] Grein, with its adroit allusion to the play ‘setting the machinery of public opinion in motion and SUPPLYING BRICKS’ &c. The proof of the final sheet is unique, and will be readily saleable for ten guineas in view of the champion misprint which has produced the sentence beginning on the last line of page 121.

I make no apology for lifting your copy out of the World, as I confined myself strictly to that part which is clearly made out of my own flesh and blood.

Please let me know whether you are going to publish [a translation from the Danish of the play written by Edvard Brandes] A Visit in the series (or anything else) as I see I shall have to do the whole volume, advertisements and all, myself.

GBS