Empty chairs

In Short

Squire Bancroft gathers his recollections of the late Victorian and Edwardian figures who dined at his home and shaped his world. Organised by the callings of his guests—royalty, churchmen, judges, painters, writers, and actors—the book traces his path from a stage-struck teenager to a knighted pillar of the British theatre alongside his wife, Marie Wilton. Through theatrical anecdotes, letters, and quiet reflections on bereavement, it captures a vanished era of London society. It remains a valuable record of nineteenth-century theatrical history, preserved through the affectionate lens of a man who knew everyone worth knowing.

The Story

The narrative opens with the author reflecting on his birth in 1841, a year he shares with King Edward VII. Bancroft pays tribute to the monarch's early patronage of the stage, recalling the Prince of Wales visiting the green-room at the old Prince of Wales's Theatre in 1868 to correct a detail on a military uniform. From this royal starting point, Bancroft moves through the various circles of his acquaintances, beginning with the notable women who graced his drawing-room. He recalls hearing the legendary Jenny Lind sing in 1878 and describes her infectious humor when mimicking an afflicted tenor on a delayed train. He records long friendships with popular writers like Miss Braddon, whom he remembers writing for hours huddled over her knees, and Lady Dorothy Nevill, whose Sunday luncheons brought together the brightest minds of the day.

Passing from literature to the Church and the Law, Bancroft recounts his encounters with figures such as Bishop Boyd-Carpenter and Lord Justice Holker. He admits to occasional social faux pas, such as inadvertently criticizing cremation in front of Sir Charles Dilke, whose late wife had been cremated. Turning to the arts, he details his admiration for painters like Edwin Abbey, W. P. Frith—whose canvases required iron railings to protect them from crowds—and Hubert Herkomer. He describes the literary circles of the Garrick Club, where he observed Charles Reade playing whist with Anthony Trollope and Charles Lever, and notes Wilkie Collins's firm loyalty to Charles Dickens during a famous club dispute.

The heart of the book lies in Bancroft's extensive memories of the theatre. He tracks his own start at nineteen, when he ran away from home to act, and charts the rise of Victorian drama. He describes working with Charles Mathews, watching Joseph Jefferson paint landscapes between performances, and observing the intense stage presence of Edwin Booth and Henry Irving. Bancroft details the management of the Prince of Wales's and Haymarket theatres with his wife, showing how their productions of T. W. Robertson’s plays modernized English drama. He recalls the talents of John Hare, Weedon Grossmith, and Lewis Waller, alongside the heavy toll the First World War took on the theatrical community. The book draws to a close with a poignant tribute to his late wife, Marie, recording the comforting prophecy of a street sign named "Mary's Place, Fortune Gate" on the day their theatre opened, and leaving the reader with the image of a life enriched by shared art and enduring affection.

How It Unfolds

The royal patron Bancroft recalls his early interactions with the Prince of Wales, who visited his green-room in 1868 and helped correct a costume error. He notes the King's lifelong friendship to the stage, which helped dismantle old social prejudices against actors.

Ladies of note The author describes hosting the famed singer Jenny Lind and listening to her humorous stories of touring life. He recalls the prolific habits of novelist Miss Braddon and the lively Sunday luncheons hosted by Lady Dorothy Nevill.

Clergy and the court Memories of prominent churchmen and legal minds fill these years, including a sermon by Bishop Boyd-Carpenter on a Mohammedan legend about charity. Bancroft candidly admits to an awkward moment at a dinner table when discussing cremation in front of Sir Charles Dilke.

Artists and writers Bancroft reflects on the Victorian art world, remembering W. P. Frith's popular crowd-pleasing paintings and Hubert Herkomer's multi-talented craftsmanship. He paints a portrait of Garrick Club life, recalling whist games with literary titans and Wilkie Collins's quiet loyalty.

Giants of the stage The narrative turns fully to the theatre, detailing Bancroft's early days acting alongside Charles Mathews in Dublin. He contrasts the acting styles of American stars like Joseph Jefferson and Edwin Booth with the singular, tragic presence of Henry Irving.

The final curtain Bancroft pays tribute to his late wife, Marie Wilton, quoting letters from friends and Queen Victoria that attest to her joyful impact on audiences. He ends by recounting an old family story of a street sign that seemed to predict her lifelong success.

The People

• Squire Bancroft: The narrator and veteran actor-manager who ran away from home at nineteen to join the stage. He seeks to honour the memory of his departed friends with warmth and humility, ending his long life as a respected elder statesman of the British theatre.
• Marie Wilton (Lady Bancroft): Bancroft's accomplished wife, manager, and leading actress, who revolutionized modern naturalistic acting. She brings light and humor to every room she enters, leaving behind a legacy of immense public affection.
• King Edward VII: The British monarch whose early and constant patronage of the theatre helped elevate the social standing of actors. He acts as a unifier and peacemaker throughout his life.
• Henry Irving: The leading tragic actor of his day, whose legendary rise began with The Bells. He is driven by absolute artistic devotion, though his lack of financial prudence often causes him to throw away fortunes.
• Charles Reade: The passionate, impulsive author of The Cloister and the Hearth, who fights fiercely with the Bancrofts over script revisions before warmly giving way.

In Its Own Voice

"The only step I have advanced towards it is, that I have bought the umbrella."

Charles Mathews delivers this witty after-dinner line regarding a joke by Douglas Jerrold about investing his savings in the Bank of England.

"Bertie, your country has no greater enemy than my son."

The Empress of Germany utters this desperate warning to her brother, the Prince of Wales, from her sickbed concerning the ex-Kaiser.

"She has made my sad heart like a bright garden."

A grieving mother speaks these words to her child after a brief visit from Marie Wilton.

What It's Really About

Beneath its anecdotal surface, the book is a meditation on mortality, memory, and the passage of time within the theatrical world. Bancroft uses the metaphor of "empty chairs" to process the loss of an entire generation of Victorian artists, leaders, and thinkers. The text explores how the acting profession transformed from a marginalized trade into an honored cultural institution, largely through the discipline, artistic integrity, and social diplomacy of figures like Bancroft and his wife. It asks how an artist ought to grow old gracefully, offering kindness and remembrance in place of nostalgia or bitter regret. Ultimately, it argues that a life built on creative collaboration and deep personal friendships leaves an enduring legacy that outlasts the fleeting nature of stage performance.

Why Read It Today

Readers drawn to Victorian social history, classic theatre, and genuine memoir will find much to admire in Bancroft's prose. It feels like sitting in an armchair beside a kindly, immaculate old gentleman who happened to know every major figure of the nineteenth century. His tone is free from vanity, balancing gentle humor with deep affection for his lost companions.

The book does present a few era-specific hurdles for modern readers. It assumes a high degree of familiarity with late-Victorian public figures, referencing obscure contemporary plays, forgotten court cases, and minor aristocrats without lengthy explanations. The structure is episodic rather than strictly plot-driven, functioning as a series of portraits rather than a high-stakes narrative. Yet for those willing to step into its quiet, reflective rhythm, the memoir offers a rare, first-hand look at the golden age of English drama, marked by the warmth of a man who loved his craft and cherished his friends.