“THE audience” on the first night of Irving’s appearance in Boston, said the “Post,” on the following morning, “was not made up of average theatre-goers; many regular ‘first-nighters’ were there, but a very large majority of those present were people of wealth, who go to the theatre comparatively little.”[27] The play was “Louis XI.” It excited expressions of admiration in the audience, and was as warmly praised in the press as at New York and Philadelphia. A fine theatre, the scenery appeared almost to greater advantage than in the Lyceum itself; and some of the readers of these pages will be surprised to learn that much of the original scenery was dispensed with. Portions of the sets, indeed, for all the pieces during the week, were painted on the spot by Mr. Hall (a clever young artist, who is devoted to the service of Mr. Irving), and Lyceum draperies, groupings, dresses, and stage manipulation, did the rest. The usual orchestra of the theatre was strengthened, as at New York and Philadelphia, and the conductor had the satisfaction of a call for the repetition of some of the _entr’acte_ music.
Among the most remarkable tributes to Irving’s genius as an actor are the critical notices that appeared in the Boston newspapers the next day; and the people of Boston gave practical evidence of their satisfaction by attending the theatre in increasing numbers every night. The fortnight’s work included, besides the opening play, “The Merchant of Venice,” “The Lyons Mail,” “Charles I.,” “The Bells,” “The Belle’s Stratagem,” and “Hamlet.” The old controversies as to the characters of Hamlet and Shylock, and the interpretation of them, cropped up in the press, and, as before, were entirely absent from the audiences. They evidently had no doubts; they showed no desire to discount their pleasure; they found themselves wrapped up in the stage stories, rejoicing, sorrowing, weeping, laughing, with the varying moods of poet and actor. They did not stop to analyze the reasons for their motion; it was enough for them that they followed the fortunes of the hero and heroine with absorbing interest. They had no preconceived ideas to vindicate; they were happy in the enjoyment of the highest form of dramatic entertainment which even those critics, that are chary of their commendation of individual artists, say America has ever seen. Said “The Boston Herald,” in its notice of “Hamlet”:—