Foul Deeds and Suspicious Deaths in London's West End Page 13

  In October 1882, the actress Jessie Millward appeared as Hero at the Lyceum Theatre in Much Ado About Nothing. Terriss played Claudio in the production. Three years after this, in December 1885, they made a name for themselves as a romantic couple in Harbour Lights by Sims and Pettitt. Afterwards this successful team often appeared in the same productions and they toured Britain and America. She became his mistress, although Terriss and his wife continued to have a very happy life together. Terriss came into his own when he embarked on a famous series of melodramas at the Adelphi, in September 1894, with Jessie Millward as his leading lady (he called her ‘Sis’ and she referred to him as ‘my comrade’), elevating him to the foremost exponent in this field.

  Richard Archer Prince was born in Dundee. At his trial, his age was given as thirty-two, but his mother maintained that he was her eldest son born in 1858. This would have made him thirty-nine. In any event, he looked considerably older than his years. One significant fact, which was to manifest itself in Prince’s psyche, was that there were strains of madness on his father’s side. One half-brother was born insane and another died in a lunatic asylum. Richard Archer (he adopted the name of Prince later, because he thought that name was more becoming of a future great actor), was short of stature, with a slight cast in his right eye and a heavy, dark, droopy moustache, which he waxed at both ends. He dressed eccentrically, and often wore the attire associated with a stage villain. Sometimes he wore a long cape and invariably a slouch hat. Many of his acquaintances simply regarded him as a harmless eccentric. Others, who perhaps saw deeper into his psyche, rightly nicknamed him ‘Mad Archer’.

  He had a wretched, poverty-stricken childhood, and nurtured a burning ambition to become a great actor. He was apprenticed to a Dundee shipbuilder but spent his spare time and money at the Theatre Royal. Sometime later he secured a walk-on part, swelling the ranks of a visiting company. This was the beginning of his undistinguished theatrical career. Early in his career Richard Archer’s strange and sudden outbursts got him the nickname Mad Archer. His sister, Maggie, moved south to London, where she became a lady of easy virtue. She was a frequenter of the notorious Empire Promenade (the promenade gallery of the famous Empire Theatre), a place where gentleman used to go to meet ladies of dubious character. One of her regular gentleman friends was the actor William L Abingdon. Richard Archer Prince found his way to London in 1881. He sought out his sister, who it is believed sweet-talked her beau, Billy Abingdon, to secure her brother some employment. One of Billy Abingdon’s nightly customs was to entertain Maggie Archer in his dressing-room and he sometimes invited her brother to join them. It was during these nightly visits that, to quote Seymour Hicks:

  “Mr. A” discovered that the poor half-wit from the North was possessed of a wild desire to reach impossible heights.

  Had Billy Abingdon been aware of Prince’s state of mental health, all who knew him feel sure he would not have taken the steps he did and put into that diseased mind the idea that Terriss was the one man who stood in the way of his greatness. The general consensus was that there was no malicious intention in Abingdon’s mind, merely the idea that a great deal of fun might be provided for himself and his chums at the expense of a deluded and inflated buffoon.

  Prince’s first London engagement was at the Adelphi in Michael Strogoff, in 1881. He continued to appear as a super or in minor roles, mostly in the provinces, for several years. In spite of this, he believed that given the right opportunity, he would immediately establish himself as the truly ‘great actor’ he felt in his twisted mind that he undoubtedly was. Prince may have worked on productions in which Terriss was appearing before he was engaged in Harbour Lights. It was during the run of Harbour Lights, which opened in December 1885, that Terriss caused Prince to be sacked after he had made an offensive remark against him. However, Terriss helped Prince out on several occasions by sending him money when he was out of work. Prince often wrote begging letters to Terriss and other leading actors, and Terriss was not unsympathetic to those who were less well placed than himself in the profession. A fellow ‘super’ in Harbour Lights was C St John Denton. He later became an agent, and in the years that followed, up until Prince slayed Terriss, Denton was often visited by Prince in his search for work. Denton recalled that when he joined the Harbour Lights company:

  William Terriss and William L Abingdon in The Fatal Card, 1894. Author’s collection

  I understood he had been there some time. Indeed we looked on him as a “standing dish”. He dressed in the same room with me … I had ample opportunity of noting his eccentricities … He had a brogue that you could cut …

  Prince often found himself working in menial jobs outside the theatrical profession, when he was unable to secure gainful employment in any capacity within the theatre. The Silver Falls opened in December 1888 and Prince was in the cast. His name appeared on the bill as ‘Diego’, although the character wasn’t a speaking part. After the run ended Terriss left the Adelphi for five years. He went on a tour of America (1889–90) and Prince found himself out of work. However it was as ‘R A Prince, late Adelphi Theatre’ that he presented himself to potential employers. He established a connection with the provincial manager J F Elliston, a reputable manager who was based in Bolton, Lancashire. A production which Elliston found very profitable was The Union Jack, one of the most popular productions that had been staged at the Adelphi. Elliston regularly revived it and during the early 1890s Prince found himself appearing in the small role of the Sergeant. He also appeared in other plays for Elliston. Elliston kept a regular bunch of actors employed, so when the news of Terriss’s murder broke, several of Prince’s former colleagues came forward and expressed their opinion of him. One comment ran:

  He thought himself a great actor, simply because once or twice he got a couple of lines to speak. ‘My lord, the carriage waits’, and that class of work. Wanity, disappointed wanity and ambition – that’s what I calls the reason of it.

  Prince stayed with Elliston’s company for several seasons until the end of the 1894–95 tour. After this Prince was unable to find work, so he returned to Dundee where he obtained a job at an ironworks. The foreman, David Simpson, gave evidence at the trial and said Prince was a good worker. He also said that Prince was often violent, that he was called soft and that he once saw him foam at the mouth. However, Prince conducted himself quite differently outside the ironworks. He often visited Her Majesty’s Theatre, where he would present himself with credentials which associated him with the Adelphi Theatre, and claim a seat in the best part of the house. He was often badly or eccentrically dressed, would often call out to the artistes, or applaud them in inappropriate places. It was reported in the Dundee Advertiser after the trial that on one occasion of members of the theatre staff:

  … having eventually to carry him from the dress-circle and expel him from the building” because Prince had uttered threats to shoot one of the actors and brandished a revolver.

  Prince began writing abusive and threatening letters to numerous theatrical figures accusing them of ‘blackmailing’ him. He uses this expression many times and presumably meant ‘blackballing’. His former employer JF Elliston received a letter which ran:

  You hell-hound. You Judas. You have got me out of engagements by blackmailing me to get on yourself. You cur. I am not a woman. You hound, how dare you blackmail a Highlander? Next time I ask you for a reference, it will be at Bow Street Police Station, where my lawyer will expose you. If I die at Newgate, you will be to blame. I would advise you to take this letter to Scotland Yard this time. Victory or death is my motto, and the fear of God.

  I am,

  RICHARD ARTHUR (sic) PRINCE

  Prince sent similar abusive letters to many managers and actors, including Terriss, over several years, usually when he was down on his luck. Towards the end of 1895 Prince returned to London, where he secured an engagement as a super in Seymour Hick’s One of the Best, opening on 21 December. Terriss was leading man. During thi
s engagement the cruel practical joke which resulted in such tragic consequences was formulated. Abingdon, who also appeared in a principal role in the play, and a couple of his cronies, found Prince’s inflated opinion of himself quite hilarious. On Abingdon’s instigation they encouraged his caprices, adding fuel to spark the fire of hatred, already smouldering and soon to burn ferociously in Prince’s twisted brain. Together, they convinced Prince that in their opinion he had true greatness and he only needed the right opportunity to claim the laurel wreaths which were rightly his. Abingdon went so far as to secure a copy of Terriss’s part for Prince to learn. At that time actors were not given the entire play script, simply their cue lines and part. Abingdon and his cronies arranged to have use of the stage during the day, where they watched with stifled laughter as Prince strutted the boards, spouting the lines of a part, they told him, with his talent, he should be playing … The seeds of hatred had been sown. Terriss was totally oblivious of the trouble which was brewing inside that diseased brain.

  Seymour Hicks made reference to these events:

  To please Prince, “Mr. A.” had the part of the hero, the part Terriss was playing, typed for him to learn, and indeed went so far as to have what to him was a comic rehearsal called, and with the assistance of the extra people in the piece, had a hilarious hour watching the miserable weakling make a complete jackass of himself.

  In his twisted brain Prince convinced himself that the only person who stood in the way of his success was William Terriss. Since Terriss caused him to be sacked from Harbour Lights all those years before Prince had held a grudge. In reality Terriss hardly new Prince and in spite of his generosity towards him, it seems unlikely that their relationship was one based on speaking terms. Prince considered himself to be at the very least Terriss’s equal. All he needed was the right opportunity to prove his worth. William Terriss was his only rival. Without Terriss on the scene, what could possibly prevent him from taking over as the greatest romantic actor on the English stage?

  Seymour Hicks commented:

  Prince’s fellow-supers, with whom he dressed, little realizing on what thin ice they were travelling, encouraged him for their amusement to talk more grandiloquently than ever of what he would do, should his great day ever arrive.

  William L Abingdon, or Billy Abingdon as he was known by his intimates, had joined the Adelphi company in 1887 during the run of The Silver Falls and had been largely in the employment of that company ever since. He played the villainous Squire Ellsworth to Terriss’s Dudley Keppel in One of the Best (written by Seymour Hicks and George Edwardes). Abingdon’s strength was playing villainous roles. Himself an attractive looking man, although not nearly so much as Terriss, he may have been envious of Terriss’s good looks and casual air, as well as his great success and general popularity, after he on one occasion was not cast as a villain, he failed miserably. Sometime after Terriss’s murder Abingdon moved to America where he enjoyed some success. In 1906, he married a well-known American actress, Bijou Fernandez. Her mother was an influential agent, who helped to secure Abingdon work. Eventually, the parts simply did not come Abingdon’s way and in time the marriage failed. He died by his own hand in 1918.

  Described by Seymour Hicks in Between Ourselves:

  “Mr. A” I knew well. He was a capital actor and a pleasant enough companion, though by no means possessed of any particularly attractive qualities. Perhaps it was for this latter reason that he was always cast as the villain in whatever play he appeared in at the old Adelphi. This being so, it can be readily understood that his work in no way clashed with that of the darling hero of the gods, William Terriss, but notwithstanding, his jealousy of my father-in-law knew no bounds, and he took little pains to sneer in company at the position of his brother-actor held in the affection of the public.

  Hicks goes on to say:

  Outwardly to Terriss, “Mr. A” was agreeable and hail-fellow-well-met, but behind his back he never lost an opportunity of belittling the man who, himself being of the most frank and charming disposition, was quite unconscious of the venom which lurked behind the smile of the man he looked upon as a good comrade.

  One of the Best closed and Prince’s services were not required in the following play. This may have caused him a great deal of anguish, if not resentment, as the play which followed One of the Best, had a large requirement for supers. Boys Together had battle scenes in Egypt and Sudan, and Prince would have been more than suitable as a ‘type’ for the play. Perhaps his previous behavior went against him. He sent several begging letters to various actors, including Terriss, who sent him money. By the summer of 1896 Prince’s situation was becoming desperate. Unable to find work, he ventured north to his hometown, Dundee, where he obtained work at the Wallace Foundry, which he left after he managed to secure a theatrical engagement. The company was under the management of Arthur Carlton, of the Crown Theatre, Stoke-on-Trent. Carlton had sent out a tour of The Union Jack. During its run at the Grand Theatre, Glasgow, a member of the cast dropped out and an emergency replacement was required. Prince impressed the management sufficiently with his connection with London’s famous Adelphi Theatre and that combined with the fact that he had toured with The Union Jack secured him the job. Prince was engaged to play the part of the chief villain, Sir Philip Yorke. That character, although himself the pivot of most of the disasters in the play, is himself being blackmailed by Captain Morton. Morton knows that Sir Philip is a forger. The climax of the role played by Prince has him stabbing his blackmailer:

  MORTON: (seeing the knife) What have you there?

  YORKE: Give me that bill!

  MORTON: Madman! (gripping YORKE)

  YORKE: (lifting the knife) By Heaven, I’ll have it or I’ll murder you! Give it to me!

  MORTON: No. (struggle – YORKE stabs him)

  Prince’s general behaviour and his inability to remember lines resulted in his dismissal when the company reached South Shields. By a stroke of luck, another manager found himself in desperate need. Ralph Croydon was assembling a company in nearby Newcastle-upon-Tyne. Prince was duly engaged to play Sir Lester Lightfoot in Nurse Charity and Sir Geoffrey Dashwood in Parson Thorn. Prince was engaged for twenty-five shillings a week. And so began what was to become Prince’s last, shortest and best documented engagement. The company were due to open at Hetton, two days later. At rehearsals it was soon apparent that Prince was incapable of carrying out his duties. He was unable to remember lines and behaved oddly. Before the end of the first day of rehearsals Ralph Croydon dismissed him. Prince asked Croydon to give him more time and to cancel the first performance. When Croydon refused, Prince replied:

  I have now got two enemies: one here, one at the Adelphi.

  Croydon remonstrated with Prince and emphasised the respect in which Terriss was held throughout the profession. Prince answered:

  Fools often succeed where men of genius fail.

  The next day Prince turned up at Croydon’s lodgings, returning another four times, to beg for his wages. Croydon refused to give him anything and dismissed him as a madman. Prince’s riposte was swift:

  Mad? Mad? You will hear of my madness. The whole world will ring with it.

  Prince made his way back to London by sea. It was reported that of the many and various jobs which Prince took between theatrical engagements, that he had served as a ship’s steward and also as a valet. Short of money, he may have used his contacts to secure his passage. After Prince’s arrest it was discovered that his theatrical ‘skip’ had been pledged and was still lying at Trades Wharf, Wapping. Prince arrived in London on 28 October. He found lodgings in Eaton Court, Buckingham Palace Road – a room at three shillings a week, knocked down by his sympathetic landlady, Mrs Charlotte Darby, from four shillings.

  Shortly after his arrival in London, Prince went to the business premises of Mr George Lauberg, a cutler in Brompton Road, where he purchased a knife for 9d. The proprietor remembered a man answering Prince’s description buying a knife one eve
ning towards the end of October. He also remembered he had tried to press a better quality knife on Prince at one shilling but Prince declined to buy it, saying he could not afford it. Prince also paid a visit to the stage door of the Adelphi Theatre on 9 November and asked the stage-doorkeeper, Henry Spratt, if a note could be sent to Mr Terriss. The note was taken to Terriss’s dressing room and a reply returned to Prince. This took the form of a reference to the Actors’ Benevolent Fund. It was later given in evidence. The note from Terriss, given to Prince out of the goodness of his heart, read:

  I have known the bearer, R. A. Prince, as a hard-working actor …

  Prince made frequent requests to the Actors’ Benevolent Fund. His begging letters were produced at his trial. One read:

  To the Gentlemen of the Committee:

  Gentlemen,

  The reason I have to ask for help is that I was out of an engagement for over 12 months before I received the last one, and lost it through no fault of my own. All the time I was in my last engagement, I had to spend all my money in dressing the parts of Captain Morton and Sir Philip Yorke. When I left off on Saturday night I had not a shilling to call my own. I have parted with everything I have in the world. My box is at the dock for my fare and passage. I have nowhere else to go. I thought I might get something to do in town. For the last six or seven years all the engagements I have had, it has taken the money I received from them to keep me on tour. It was taking me all my time to live without being able to save. If you will only help me to live for a week or two, I think I shall be able to get an engagement.