. L.WINGATE AY THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES JOSEPH JEFFERSON AS RIP VAN WINKLE Copyright. 1894, by B. J. Falk, New York. FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY EDITED BY FREDERIC EDWARD McKAY AND CHARLES E. L. WINGATE ILLUSTRATED II' I Til PORTRAITS NKW YOKK : 46 KAST KIH'RTKRNTH STRKKT THOMAS Y. CROWELL & COMPANY BOSTON : 100 l'i KCIIASK STRKKT COPYRIGHT, 1896, By THOMAS V. CROWELL & COMPANY. C. J. PETERS ft SON', TV P(M,R A IMIERS ROCKWELL it CHURCHH1LL PRINTERS. College Library PREFACE. THIS volume is not designed for the use of theatri- cal people alone. Inasmuch as the various chapters are written by authors who are recognized as authorities upon the subjects coming under their pens, as well as writers experienced in pleasing the public, it is hoped that the book will fill a helpful corner in the biographical department of home libraries, while at the same time it acquaints general readers with the careers and methods of work of our American actors. Although the theatre has existed in this country for a century and a half, and in these later days has flourished wonderfully, the literature of the stage is meagre. Of histories there are none that cover the entire period ; of biographical works there are very few, and none that deal, after the manner of this volume, with any considerable number of contempora- neous actors. The central idea of " Famous American Actors of To-day " is to bring before the reader each noted player as he is viewed by a writer who either has known the actor personally, or has made an es- 1568330 IV PREFACE. pecial study of his professional work. In this way there is produced, with varied characteristic style, a series of reliable biographies and accurate criticisms out of the routine order. The idea of the book was conceived by Mr. McKay, and the carrying out of the project was enthusiastically assisted by all the contributors. The time of " to- day " was limited (with one exception) to the decade just closing. The order of arrangement of the essays is purely artificial, and is not intended to indicate rank of any kind. First, the long-established stars are presented ; then the younger stars, with the notable stock actors; then the special character comedians. CONTENTS. JOSEPH JEFFERSON . MME. JANAUSCHEK . Kmvix BOOTH . . . MARY ANUERSOX . LAWRENCE BARRETT MME. MODJESKA . . DION HouciCAri/r . CLARA MORRIS PAOB luiuwii A7>/, r i Author of Joseph /.almonah, Europe in Storm and. Calm, The Golden Spike, and other novels. Philip Hale 18 Critic on the Boston Journal, essayist, and Boston correspondent of the Musical Courier. Henry A. Clapp 26 Critic on the Boston Advertiser, essayist, and Shakespearian lecturer. Joint J). /tarry 51 Maga/.iue writer and editor. Benjamin K. M'oolf 62 Critic on the Boston Herald, composer of " Pounce and Co.," and " Westward. Ho ! " and author of " The Mighty 1 )ol- lar," and other plays. L'harles /:'. /,. // 'innate .... 72 Author of Shakespeare's Heroines on the Stage and Shakespeare's Heroes on the Stage. I'll/iff Thompson Si Critic on the \e-.v )'<>rX- Commercial Ad- verifier. U'illard HoUomb SS l>ramatic editor of (he ll',isAntftii I'ost, author of Log Cabin Manaittgiiet, and other verses, and author of the play " Her 1-aM Kchcars.il." VI CONTENTS. MR. AND MRS. W. J. FLORENCE, Albert Ellery Berg Of the New J ork Dramatic Mirror. FANNY DAVENPORT . . Jay B. Ben/on Boston correspondent of the New York Dramatic Mirror. Julian Magnus Dramatic manager, dramatist, and critic. Col. T. Allston Brmvn .... Author of II istory of the American Stage. 94 1 08 119 127 35 J. LESTER WALLACK MRS. JOHN DREW RICHARD MANSFIELD . M'illiam Henry Frost .... Of the New York Tribune, and author of The Wagner Story Hook. ADA RICH AN . . . . Edward A. Dithmar . . . . 146 Dramatic editor of the New ] 'ork Times. JOHN DREW .... James S. Metcalfe 154 Dramatic editor of Life, and managing edi- tor of the Cosmopolitan Magazine. JULIA MARLOWE-TABER, Edward Fuller 159 Author of Fellow Travellers and The Complaining Millions of Men. JOHN GILBERT .... Stephen Fiske 170 Dramatic editor of the Spirit of the Times. WILLIAM WARREN . . Mrs. E. G. Sutherland . . . 178 (Dorothy Lundt) co-author of the play " Mars'r Van," and of the novel Fort Frayne, and dramatic editor of the Boston Commonwealth. MRS. VINCENT .... George /'. Baker 194 Assistant professor at Harvard College, author of 7 'he Principles of Argu- mentation, editor of John Lyly's Kn- dymion, Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream, etc. CHARLES FISHER . . . Laurence Hiitton 204 Author of Plays and Players, Curiosities of the American Stage, etc. CHAS. R. THOKNE, JR. A . M. Palmer Manager Palmer's Theatre, New York. 221 CONTENTS. Vll AGNES BOOTH . . J. H. STODDART . . MAURICE BARRYMORK ROSE COGHLAN . . \V. J. LE iMovNK . . K. M. HOLLAND . . GEORGIA CAYVAN E. H. SOTIII.KN Lewis C. Strung Dramatic critic. Edwin F. Edged Dramatic editor of the Boston Transcript. Edward Fales Coward .... Dramatic editor of the New York H'orld. Frederic Edward McKay . Editor of Theatrical Tidings. William F. Gilchrest .... Dramatic editor of the Kz'ening Tele- gram, New York. George Parsons Latin-op Poet and author, librettist of " The Scarlet Letter," and editor of Hawthorne's works. Ralph Edmunds ALEXANDER SALVINI JAMES O'NEIL .... MAGGIE MITCHELL . Feuilletonist. Edward M. A If i tend .... Author of the plays " The Louisianian," "The Diplomat," " A Foregone Con- clusion," and " Across the Potomac," and co-author of " The Great Diamond Robbery." James Albert IValdron .... Managing editor of the New }'m-k J>r,i- matic Mirror. Harrison Grey Fiske .... Editor of the ffew }'i>rk Dramatic Mir- ror, and Yice-President of the New York Shakespeare Society. Luther L. ffoltkn Dramatic critic, and author of books of travel. i \ .1 231 2 3 8 241 249 259 266 274 286 LOTTA CRABTREE . . MlNMIJ MADDERN-FlSKK. Mildred . lh shier ll'elJi Founder of I'hf Thttitrf 2 9 2 299 39 3=3 .iiM/uir writer, feuillctnniM, and dr.i- matic editor o( the ffitktli AfafatiiH. Vlll CONTENTS. VV. H. CRANE . . STUAKT ROHSON . JOHN T. RAYMOND SOL SMITH RUSSELL NAT C. GOODWIN DENMAN THOMPSON, ) AND OUR RURAL / LIFE DRAMA. ) EDWARD HARRIGAN . Joseph Hoii >ard, Jr 341 Feuilletonist and correspondent. Charles M. Skinner 352 Dramatic editor of the Brooklyn Eagle, and author of the play " Villon, the Vagabond." Franklin Fyles . . . . . . 361 Dramatic editor of the New York Sun, author of the play "Governor of Ken- tucky, "and co-author of the play " (Jirl I Left Behind Me." William T. Adams 368 (Oliver Optic) author of the Soldier Roy Series, ) 'oitng A nierica A broad Series, etc. Frank E. Chase 377 (The Man Who Laughs) dramatic critic and play publisher. E. Irenaus Stevenson .... 389 Of the Neu> ) ~ork Independent, and author of dramatic and musical criticisms in Harper's periodicals. IV. S. Blake Essayist. 395 JOSEPH JEFFERSON. BY EinvARU KING. DISTINCTION and repose are the salient features in that delightful artistic temperament which has given to Joseph Jefferson so prominent a place in the front rank of his contemporaries, and leaves him, at the close of more than half a century of active work on the stage, one of the most popular of our actors. Kd- mond Scherer, in writing of George Eliot, somewhere says that there is no art without reflection ; but that reflection is nevertheless the most dangerous enemy of art. If we had not the ample assurances contained in Mr. Jefferson's entertaining biography that he has made every one of his important impersonations the subject of careful reflection, we should still have learned the fact from the nature of his work. He has known how to reach and keep the golden mean between the reflective mood which obtrudes upon art, and that which gives it the truth without which it is valueless. The touching of this golden mean is a sure indica- tion that Mr. Jefferson possesses genius. It is genius alone which has enabled him to invest certain types with a distinction which they did not originally pos- sess. It is genius alone by means of which lie wrought i 2 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. out the subtle pathos of Rip Van Winkle, a character which crystallized in his mind, according to his own confession, very much as all the finer literary creations of great authors crystallize. And it is genius which has given him the secret of that repose in art so sought after, and so rarely attained, by all dramatic artists of merit in our generation. We are wont to speak of a person of Mr. Jefferson's acquirements as a " finished " artist ; and when we thus indicate that he has reached the limits of perfection in his art, we mean that the originality which furnishes distinction, and the repose which makes the originality impressive, are apparent in all that he does. Perhaps the most striking feature of Mr. Jeffer- son's genius is that it developed steadily for a long number of years under what might be described as adverse circumstances. The wandering life of barn- storming, drifting along the currents of great rivers, and giving Thespian performances on flatboats and steamers, or following, as in Mexico, the fortunes of an army, gave admirable opportunities for observa- tion, but did not offer that attrition, that constant submission to critical audiences, which in most coun- tries is thought necessary to the formation of cor- rect dramatic taste. For a long term of years the commercial value of his art was of necessity foremost in the young actor's mind. He rose by the slowest of gradations, from the tiny child who danced Jim Crow, to the aspiring young man who saw a chance for fame in the carving out of Asa Trenchard, as an American type to stand the test of time. Behind him was an ancestry of actors, and on his mother's side he was allied to the lively nation which has always JOSEPH JEFFERSON. 3 been pre-eminent in theatrical art. He met and acted with and studied most of the actors and actresses prominent in his youth. But these were not advantages sufficient to have given him his present post of honor, had he possessed merely talent. The apprenticeship of poverty, and the vagrant life of the adventurous actor, served to discipline his genius until he knew exactly in which channels his energy would be best directed ; and then he achieved fame, no longer by slow paces, but by leaps and bounds. I can think of no other eminent comedian to whom Mr. Jefferson may more fitly be compared than to M. Got, save that I should be inclined to deny to the latter the same fine degree of genius perceptible in Mr. Jefferson's temperament. The dean of the great com- pany of the Com/die Fran$aise had a very different youth from the creator of Rip Van Winkle. While the American actor was acting in raw country towns, and making long journeys from one farming commu- nity to another, the Frenchman was studying at the College Charlemagne, getting a little experience of the civil service ; and finally entering Provost's class at the Conservatoire, where he had to put forth every atom of talent to secure the second, and finally the first prize for comedy. The only rough life which he saw was in a year's compulsory service in the army in time of peace. With the exception of this single year, he was from tender youth up in the midst of a brilliant and highly polished society, where talent was the rule rather than the exception ; and for fully fifty years he acted steadily at the first theatre in the world. The mere 4 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO DAY. fact of being thus steadily anchored in the centre of a great cosmopolitan capital where chances for ob- servation are almost infinite, and come to him daily without the smallest disturbance of the even tenor of his life, would seem of immense advantage to the French actor. Yet while he has acted a great many more types, he has founded none which surpass in natural humor and pathos those to be found in Mr. Jefferson's repertory. He has cultivated no superior qualities of voice, pres- ence, or gesture. If Mr. Jefferson were to-day to have provided for him a succession of plays, as good from both the literary and dramatic standpoint as those in which M. Got has had the honor of appearing, he would stand fully abreast of him, and there are deli- cate qualities in which he would excel him. The force of genius has enabled the American to draw from inferior opportunity and surroundings a series of results quite as brilliant as any single ones which are the outcome of M. Got's exceptional train- ing. There is a weird and tender charm in Mr. Jef- ferson's Caleb Plummer to which the distinguished professor of the great institution where France's best dramatic artists are trained can never hope to attain. And while M. Got, as he descends with measured step into the mellow vale of fourscore years, manifests a decided tendency to preach in his roles, thus divesting them of much of their djamatic force, Mr. Jefferson remains at less than seventy untouched by manner- isms, and as sprightly and gracious in the elder comedy as he is quaint, shrewd, and original in the peculiar American types with which his name and fame are so closely associated. JOSEPH JEFFERSON. 5 Docs he think that his art has been in any degree hindered or narrowed by the constant travel and the modern system of " combination companies," of which he found himself forced to be one of the pioneers ? On this point he expresses himself only with marked reserve. In one paragraph of his autobiography he remarks that "it is the freshness, the spontaneity, of acting which charms. How can a weary brain produce this quality ? Show me a tired actor, and I will show you a dull audience." This would indicate his dislike of the system which drags a company over two or three States in a week, and brings them now and then to the interpretation of a brilliant comedy, demanding utmost verve and brio, at the close of an exhausting journey. " Yet," he adds, " the systems by which the talents of actors became distributed to-day are adapted to the growth of the country." It would seem as if in this little phrase Mr. Jefferson had embodied an uncon- scious condemnation of the " system " to which he has been compelled to submit, but which, had he not pos- sessed positive genius, might have caused the wreck of his artistic career. It is always a grave thing to claim the possession of genius for any living artist, literary or dramatic ; and the great multitude which, in Mr. Jefferson's case, is already more than half persuaded, usually demands some proof in support of the assertion. In the present case there is abundant material for the support of the claim ; and it is to be found not merely in romantic and picturesque rdlcs like Rip Van Winkle, but in smaller and more Meissonier-like studies with which the galleries of his repertory are hung. Mr. Jefferson had excellent opportunities of study 6 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. which have been denied to some of his contemporaries; and he improved them to the utmost from the earliest period when he began to feel originality stirring within him. He had encountered all that was best in the act- ing talent of his day before he struck out a single new creation from the quartz of his own observation ; and it is enormously to his credit that he borrowed no traits, no mannerisms, no eccentricities, from any of the great players. He studied their knowledge of the stage and made it his, but it would have been repulsive to him to copy from them. Meantime he was accumulating a vast fund of curi- ous observation of typical phases of human nature, with which he was ready to enrich any creation the hazard of the stage might allow him to present. It is of no special consequence to us that the elder Booth taught him to play Marrall in " A New Way to Pay Old Debts," save that it shows what good technical training he received. But it is intensely interesting to trace the blossoming of such a charming, fresh, and original character as Asa Trenchard from the knowl- edge of Yankee types obtained during a wide expe- rience of travel, when those types stood out in bold relief, because they were strongly contrasted with the Western and Southern types most frequent in the regions covered by the youthful actor's theatrical tours. Mr. Jefferson acquired no sectional hobbies in the matter of dramatic art, and apparently no prejudices against any particular style of plays except bad ones. While his first thought was to make a popular bill, it is certain that he would with difficulty have consented to any of the extraordinary horse-play which has been introduced on the stage to-day, and which constitutes JOSEPH JEFFERSON. 7 a veritable assault upon dramatic art. The stock com- panies with which he had the privilege of associating at Southern theatres and in Philadelphia would not have tolerated any tendency to what the French call "the over-charging of roles." Their taste was still pure, because it was based upon a genuine reverence for their art, and a love for all its noble and dignified traditions. Ineffective they may at times have been ; grotesque now and then because of some failure of scenic resources or improper rehearsal ; but wilfully clownish, never! The invasion of the domain of high comedy and melodrama by the farce and the bouffonnerie of the country fair was not even dreamed of when Mr. Joseph Jefferson, a young actor who had but recently attained his majority, was engaged to act "first comedy" under the stage management of Mr. John Gilbert, at the Chestnut-street Theatre in Philadelphia. It was there that he first undertook the important part of Doctor Pangloss, which has since been a source of delight to hundreds of thousands in his enthusiastic audiences; and the picture which he has given of himself, gravely taking lessons in Latin pronunciation that he might correctly give the quotations which the learned doctor was so fond of retailing, and at the same time learning what the quotations meant in the vernacular, is at once amusing and instructive for the student of his career. Although his originality had not been specially noted it the time of his Baltimore engagement in 1853, we may be sure that the young actor who held his own so well in a company made up of Wallacks, Davenports, Murdochs, Placides, and Adamses, felt his own power, and awaited with confidence the hour of its public rec- 8 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. ognition. The actors of the younger generation, as they contemplate with astonishment and a delight with which there may be a slight blending of envy, the ease, polish, and wonderful adornment of Mr. Jefferson's various roles in the elder comedy, and especially the distinction which characterizes even the smallest of them, must reflect sorrowfully that there are no longer any such chances for learning the real traditions of the roles as was afforded him. What they learn from him will be clear gain of artistic advancement ; but let them beware of original conceptions in classical comedy. Mr. Jefferson himself has left it on record that it is "dangerous to engraft new fashions upon old forms." The rising actor found his imagination stimulated by constant meeting with capable actors in good resi- dent stock companies. As the painter who lives in an atmosphere saturated with art, where the pictu- resque is to be found at every street corner, and the attrition of artistic comradeship abounds, finds a con- stant and unfailing stimulus which he would miss were he to go to more prosaic surroundings, so the actor absorbed from a hundred minds new and varying views of each histrionic effort. What a vast advantage over the career of the rising actor of to-day, playing one part scores and scores of times in succession, and using up his energy and time in uncongenial travel between the performances! In his twenty-eighth year, Mr. Jefferson was engaged as leading comedian at Laura Keene's theatre in New York City, and made his first bow on the western side of the metropolis in "The Heir-at-Law." The local critics who accused him on the morning of his debut of "gagging" the character of the renowned Dr. Pan- JOSEPH JEFFERSON. 9 gloss have since been the objects of the actor's atten- tion. Mr. Jefferson points out that most of the old comedies are "filled with traditional introductions good and bad," and that a dramatic artist is as much at lib- erty to use one set as another. He further implies that the critic is hardly excusable for not being familiar with the text of all these introductions and interpolations. Whatever may have been this early New York verdict on Mr. Jefferson's Dr. Pangloss, there was nothing but praise from the great majority of critics and auditors when he appeared as Asa Trenchard in "Our American Cousin." Tom Taylor certainly struck an original note in the play, and by paying, possibly, an uncon- scious homage to the national character, gave it strong chances for popular approval. Yet the play might have slept in manuscript until this clay had not a fortunate accident brought it to the attention of Laura Keene's business manager, who read it, liked it, and handed it to Mr. Jefferson for his verdict. Real genius generally recognizes its opportunity, and this proved true in the case of Mr. Jefferson. He tells us that it was the chance for developing the attitude of early love, for impersonating the enthusiasm and gv/cs in which he appeared until he stumbled upon " Rip Van Winkle." I use the word stumbled respectfully : 14 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. the accidental perusal of Irving's "Sketch-Book," while reposing on the fragrant hay in the old barn in Paradise Valley, was the turning-point in the actor's life. The image of the quaint Dutch-American vagabond arose in his mind at first faint, then clear and distinct. There is no finer testimony to the originality of his artistic sense than is to be found in the fact that he borrowed so little from the old versions of the plays of " Rip Van Winkle " which had been acted by his father, or by the renowned Hackett, or by Burke. And the proof that the image of Rip sprang into his mind with that spontaneous quickness which marks the gen- esis of all immortal artistic creations, is to be found in the energetic manner in which Mr. Jefferson at once went to work to build up Rip's wardrobe without hav- ing written a single line of his play. He looked over the old dramatic versions of the weird story, and re- jected all that gave a distinctly melodramatic tinge to it. Then he built it up, bit by bit, in realistic fashion. The wonderful force of the impersonation is due to the adroit manner in which the realistic and romantic are contrasted. Now they almost meet and touch, and the spectators hold their breaths as the dusky wing of the supernatural appears above the luminous scene ; now they travel on parallel lines, and now stand out in full relief, opposed to each other. The same felici- tous skill in dealing with the ghostly and unknown, the same recognition of human limitations even in presence of the superhuman which mark Hamlet as the work of genius, are perceptible in the reclothing of the le- gendary vagabond of the Hudson's banks with flesh and blood. The difference is only in degree. Jn a passage in " The Life and Letters of Washing- JOSEPH JEFFERSON. 15 ton Irving," the great author has recorded the pleasure which he derived from seeing Mr. Jefferson play a part in one of the old comedies at Laura Keene's theatre ; and he mentioned the resemblance of the young actor to his father in look and gesture. If the writer of "The Sketch-Book" had been able to foresee the enor- mous popularity which a simple sketch of his would receive, thanks to the exertions of that young actor, how his heart would have throbbed with gratitude and pride ! Mr. Jefferson has told us that his aim in creating Rip Van Winkle was to have a role in which laughter and tears were closely allied, and he hit the mark. He hit it so well that the last scenes of the play might be acted in pantomime before foreign audiences and the result would be the same, the people would laugh and weep with him. It is not strange that, having found this role so perfectly adapted for producing the effects best suited to his genius, he should have clung to it for years, to the exclusion of others, and should have carried it triumphantly around the world. Yet the actor had not infused into the first draft of his play quite enough of the purely human, as con- trasted with the superhuman, interest ; and his first performance of the role in Washington told him so. The audiences were delighted, but the actor still sighed for something to make the picture complete. This was furnished him by the skilful hand of Dion Houcicault, when, in 1865, Mr. Jefferson arrived in London from Australia, and determined to introduce Rip and himself at the same time to English audiences. The Royal Adelphi swung the door wide open to receive him. On Sept. 30, 1865, Mr. Jefferson, who 1 6 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. had been nearly five years away from home, in Austra- lia and in long sea voyages, brought out a new and improved version of the play. The success was in- stantaneous. London furnished sympathetic audiences for one hundred and seventy nights in succession before "Rip Van Winkle" was withdrawn from the boards. In England the illusion of the theatre is still more powerful, especially with the middle and lower classes, than in this country. People give themselves freely to laughter and tears ; they hiss the villains, applaud the display of virtue, and are ready to lend a hand in defence of the innocent and oppressed. For Rip Van Winkle their sympathies were so thoroughly aroused that when, in the closing scenes, their imaginations were excited by the spectacle of the sublime old vagabond victim of the dark sorcery of the spirits of the moun- tains struggling out from his enchanted sleep, and returning, like a dead man from his grave, among the living, they burst into passionate weeping. No grander triumph was ever achieved by an American actor than by Mr. Jefferson during the London run of " Rip Van Winkle." I once asked a distinguished French critic what he thought of Mr. Henry Irving. He answered that Ir- ving got effects which were quite unknown on the French stage by his eloquent silences, and by the im- pressive manner in which he "posed" in an attitude. He said that he had been particularly struck with this quality in " Louis the Eleventh." Mr. Jefferson has even in greater degree than Mr. Irving, and without any of the latter' s mannerisms, this faculty of impress- ing an audience by his simple attitude, without uttering JOSEPH JEFFERSON. 17 a work or making a gesture. It would be easy to cite a dozen cases of this kind from " Rip Van Winkle." It is by his purely American creations that Mr. Jeffer- son's claim to lasting fame is established. Sprightly as he may be in the elder comedy, we enjoy far less the spectacle of his appearance in a play by Sheridan, which he has ventured to curtail to suit modern notions of theatre-going, than in those roles peculiarly his own. It is not without regret, too, that we reflect on the priceless services to dramatic art which he might have rendered had he been surrounded by a brilliant stock company, and permanently engaged at one metropolitan theatre for the last twenty years. But it is idle to cavil at a lack for which the recent organization of theatrical business is alone responsible. The gracious personality of Joseph Jefferson is held in highest respect by all Americans. The shrewd and comely face lighted by keen humorous eyes, the form still alert although years weigh on it, the sympathetic voice, the magnetic look of the great actor, are in the memories of millions. And whether he is reposing in his luxurious home among the moss-hung live oaks of Louisiana, or breathing the salt breeze on the Massa- chusetts coast, or making a professional tour westward, he is always surrounded by friends who respect his genius, and are grateful for its many manifestations, and for the honor which it bestows upon the American stage. MME. JANAUSCHEK, BY PHILIP HALE. FKANCESCA ROMANA MAGDALENA JANAUSCHEK was born at Prague, July 20, 1830. She was the fourth of nine children of pure Czech blood. They say in envious Prussia that the Bohemian father always hesitates in determining the profession of his child whether to educate it as a musician or a thief. Janauschek at first studied the piano, intending to be a virtuoso. An accident to her hand checked this career ; and, as she had a mezzo-soprano voice that promised success, she prepared herself for opera at the Prague Conser- vatory. A professor of dramatic action persuaded her to study for the stage as a play-actress. She was about sixteen years of age when she made her debut at Prague as Caroline in the comedy " Ich bleibe Ledig." She soon afterward appeared in a modest way at the theatres of Chemnitz, Heilbronn, and other small towns. She was a member of a travelling o company. She succeeded at Cologne ; and finally, at the age of eighteen, she was engaged as leading woman at the Stadt Theatre, Frankfort, where she remained ten years, playing in the pieces of the classic repertory. A dazzling star, she blazed triumphantly in other cities of Germany, as at Munich, where she was engaged for 18 MME. JANAUSCHEK. MME. JANAUSCHEK. 19 four months by the mad King of Bavaria, who honored her by praise and royal gifts. In Austria and in Rus- sia her triumphs were repeated. After Janauschek had finished an engagement at the Royal Theatre, Dresden, she came to the United States ; and she made her first appearance here in New York, at the Academy of Music, under the management of Max Maretzek, Oct. 9, 1867. She made her American debut as Medea, and in German ; for, although she then spoke several languages, she did not learn English until the season of 1873-1874. From New York she went to other American cities. Her repertory included, among other plays, "Medea," "Marie Stuart," "Deb- orah," " Gretchen," " Egmont," " Don Carlos," "Cabale und Liebe," " Braut von Messina," "The Gladiator of Ravenna." During her first season in this country she appeared in polyglot performances, playing, in German, Lady Macbeth to Booth's Macbeth, while the other members of the company spoke English. At that time her repertory was almost wholly classical ; yet she never appeared in this country in parts that she con- sidered her best, for she did not believe that such plays would interest American audiences. During the season of 1873-1874 Janauschek played, speaking the English language. She at first was seen as Deborah, Medea, Marie Stuart, Briinnhilde. Her success was so great that she determined to make America her home. Her repertory increased. She added " Winter's Tale," " Henry VIII.," " Marie Antoi- nette," "Woman in Red," "Adrienne Lecouvreur," " Mother and Son." She appeared also as Meg Mer- rilies; but she regarded the playing this part as a business mistake, because she allowed herself to be 2O FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO DAY. identified with the part, and thus gave the public the idea that she was really a very old woman. Perhaps this belief was an exhibition of super-sensitiveness. To the mass of theatre-goers she was the most popu- lar in the dual role of Lady Dedlock and Hortense in "Bleak House," or " Chesney Wold" as she first called the play. To the critics she appeared to even fuller advantage in "Brunnhilde" and "Come Here." She reached her zenith about 1887 as Brunnhilde. Janauschek produced these plays in America: "My Life," by Harry Meredith ; " The Harvest Moon ; " and "The Doctor of Lima," by Salmi Morse. She has lectured on the drama ; she has given readings ; she was chairman of the drama committee at the Pro- fessional Woman's League. Always an earnest student of everything pertaining to her art, she collected books relating to the stage. Her latest appearance on the stage (1895-1896) was in " The Great Diamond Robbery," in which melo- drama the breadth and the dignity of her art ennobled a part that other actresses would deem unworthy of their attention. This is the bald and imperfect sketch of a stage career of nearly fifty years. I do not even vouch for complete accuracy, as there are conflicting statements in carefully recorded interviews with the actress her- self. To verify the alleged facts concerning her first years would be almost an impossible task ; for the records are loose, or beyond recovery. Even in this country, where theatres are so frequented, where so much attention is given to dramatic affairs by the newspapers, there is no authentic record of the history MME. JANAUSCHEK. 21 of the stage, though local records have been kept by amateurs in certain cities. It is strange that no one has done publicly for New York or Boston what Noel and Stoullig have done for Paris since 1875. The historian of the future will find the task still harder; for in many instances he will be unable to discriminate between the romantic weavings of the press agent and the actual facts. Actors as well as singers are notori- ously careless as to dates of birth, ctibnts, creations ; and many autobiographers are notoriously neglectful of important dates, or positively inaccurate in statements concerning year and place. Janauschek struck the key-note 01 her art when she said to a friend who commented on her play- ing the part of the receiver of stolen goods in " The Great Diamond Robbery," " Every time I go on that stage I take all my past reputation in my hand." This sincerity and this artistic pride have character- ized her long and honorable career. In her youth Janauschek enjoyed the inestimable advantage of drill in routine work, which is regarded as drudgery by the inspired, who in these days jump upon the stage through caprice, or, bored by social duties, led by personal vanity, influenced by domestic unhappiness, say to themselves, "Come, now, I'll be an actress ; it is true I have never studied the rudi- ments of art, but experience is the great master." After instruction in the school, she began practically in humble parts. She was in stock companies, where the carefully drilled ensemble, not the brilliancy of a star accentuated by the feeble twinkling or the dark- 22 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. ness of the surroundings, was the attraction. Thus did she learn the lessons that are only acquired in a stock company ; and it is no wonder that in the course of rather pessimistic remarks concerning the future of the American stage, she said lately, " Since the de- struction of the stock company, there is no school for the education of actors." Brought up in an atmosphere of art, where classic models were reversed, where trash was flouted by man- agers as well as by audiences, it is not surprising to find her in this country protesting against the majority of the theatrical productions of the past dozen years, productions, to use her own words, " crowded with only frivolity and shallovvness, absurdity and foolishness, stupidity and giddiness, and any amount of vulgarity ; void of all natural sentiment and ideal perception, void of high and noble principles, void of all and every poetical fancy. 'The public must be amused' is the cry of the theatrical manager. 'The public should be instructed and elevated, and can be amused/ is the cry of the artist." It is true that Nature planned her for heroic parts. Her voice, that might have adorned the opera house, was the noble instrument that lent itself to all emo- tions. To the thoughtful critic one of her chief triumphs was obtained solely by the varying intona- tions in " Come Here." It is said of her, as it was said of a distinguished American actor, that her reci- tation of the Lord's Prayer is a marvel of elocution, and that even in Czech the effect on a hearer un- acquainted with the language is overwhelming. The noble expressiveness of her face, the stateliness of her figure, the sense of reserve strength in repose, MME. JANAUSCHEK. 23 the grace and the intensity of her gesture, these were natural gifts, enlarged by training, controlled by artistic intelligence. An heroic woman, suggesting primeval emotions ; titanic in bursts of passion. Briinnhilde is now a well-known character to opera- goers, and several distinguished dramatic singers have played in this country the heroine of the Nibelungen Trilogy ; but with the aid of Wagner's Music it is doubtful whether any one of them equalled in tragic force the memorable performance of Janauschek. The Briinnhilde of the play is the Briinnhilde of " Gotter- dammerung," the deceived, outraged, jealous wife, who meditates and carries out dire vengeance. She is a plaything of Fate, as Jocasta, or Medea, or Iphigenia, or any tragic figure of antique drama. There was a marvellous vitality in the performance of Janauschek ; there was something more than an impersonation ; there was utter forgetfulness of the assumption of a part : Briinnhilde herself emerged from the forest, and among wild people loved and hated fiercely. Her versatility was shown in concentrated form in "Chesney Wold," where, as the coquet tishly sensual, maliciously sly, vitriolically minded French maid, she alternated with the cold, haughty, arrogant Lady Ded- lock, who, in spite of her caste and pride, had known passion, and shame as the reward of passion. The question here is not one of psychological truth ; whether, for instance, such a character as Hortense ever existed. The question is this. Given the prem- ises, what were the dramatic conclusions arrived at by Janauschek ? That which in itself was tawdry and melodramatic was heightened by temperament in t In- sane control of art. 24 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. For in Janauschek is the rare combination of tem- perament working harmoniously and generously with art, to the glorification of each. Temperament is in- dispensable, beyond price, beyond the attainment of art ; but let temperament run riot, and there are in a performance a few great native moments, with dreary half-hours of commonplace and crudity. For tempera- ment alone sees only a few points that interest, and to these points all else is sacrificed ; or it is better to say that when nothing appeals to temperament, then there must be a Macedonian cry to art. Now, a woman like Janauschek in the detail always holds the attention by reason of her art. The hearer is conscious of the approach of great moments ; the crescendo on the stage is synchronous with the crescendo of interest in the pit ; there is no sudden, unexpected appeal that misses fire ; art and temperament together enchain the audience, and prepare for the final climax, which, when it comes, comes as though inevitably, and with irre- sistible force. Here is a woman that is the last of the actresses of " the grand style." There are highly endowed women now upon the stage, actresses of finesse, actresses of realistic force, actresses of neurotic feeling that inspire morbid interest by morbid treatment of morbid sub- jects. These women are artists in their respective ways. But there is no one to be compared now to Janauschek in the breadth and the finish, the nobility and the sweep, of her art. False realism has brought with it false and cheap acting. A hero talks with his hands in his pockets for a half-hour, and is praised chiefly because he acts just as he would carry himself at a club. In many ways there has been a shrinkage MME. JANAUSCHEK. 25 in artistic values. How petty all the fin-de-sttcle hys- teria, the cocotte sentimentalist!), the stage debate between duty to a nagging husband and the idea of separate womanly dignity in a profession, seem in the presence of deserted Medea, or Briinnhilde treacher- ously abused ! And yet the audience seems impatient of the older art ; and it forgets the goddesses of the older art to whom it once bowed the knee, and before whom it swung the censer. This country owes a mighty debt to Janauschek, for her influence has been steadily and courageously for that which is pure and noble and uplifting. Perhaps the best and final tribute to this woman, who now looks back over a career untarnished by any cheap device to gain popular favor, or any eagerness to set applause- traps, is this sentence of golden praise from Professor James Mills Pierce : " She is one of the few actors I have seen in my time who have thoroughly known how to unite the most intense truth of feeling with nobleness of form and perfect training ; to infuse into the simplicity, exactitude, and moderation of the realistic school the divine fire of genius." And many will say with him : " I shall always look back on some of the occasions on which I have seen her as among those which afforded my fullest glimpses of the possible greatness of the stage." EDWIN BOOTH BY HENRY A. CLAPP. THE keen sense of loss which has come to the American people because of the death of Edwin Booth may well be shared by all the English-speaking com- munities of the world. If Mr. Irving be left out of view, it is plain that for many years Mr. Booth has had no rival as a tragedian among those actors who use our language ; and it is equally plain that there is to- day not even a candidate for his vacant place. As for Mr. Irving, it is fair to say that neither his career nor his success has been precisely upon the plane of Mr. Booth's. By turns a comedian, a player of melodrama, an attempter of tragedy, and a master of farce, Mr. Irving, in his picturesque and versatile talents,,has ever displayed an eccentric quality of which there was not a trace in the American performer. Mr. Booth will be remembered as a classic tragedian ; while o it is more than probable that Mr. Irving's Louis XL, Mathias, and Dubosc will be recalled when his Hamlet and King Lear have quite slipped out of general recol- lection. The student of the history of the English stage will NOTE. This essay originally appeared in the Atlantic Monthly of Septem- ber, 1893. 26 EDWIN BOOTH AS HAMLET. EDWIN BOOTH. 2 7 not find, outside of the Kemble and Kean families, a person whose equipment would vie with that of Edwin Booth ; including within the word "equipment " all that may be reasonably expected from tradition, heredity, and surroundings in early life. Mr. Booth inherited from his father, Junius Brutus Booth, an actor ac- counted by many competent critics the greatest of his brilliant period, a definite bent and a full gift. He was born to the buskin as truly as Edward III. was born to the royal purple ; in his infancy and youth he breathed the atmosphere of the stage, and histrionic traditions and aptitudes came to him as a part of his birthright. Edwin was undoubtedly inferior to his father in that plasticity which may be cultivated, but cannot be acquired ; yet his temperament was admi- rably well adapted to the needs of his craft, and espe- cially of that department of the actor's art to which, after a little experimenting at the outset of his pro- fessional life, he wholly devoted himself. In Mr. Booth's nature there was a remarkable combination of sensibility, thoughtfulness, power, and reserve. His intellect was vigorous, intuitive, and singularly lucid. Physically he was nobly equipped for his work : with a voice of exceptional purity, range, and carrying power ; with a figure of medium height and size, but well knit and proportioned ; and with a mobile face, finely, almost faultlessly, chiselled, lighted by dark eyes of ex- traordinary brilliancy and depth, and marked in repose by a cold but highly distinguished beauty. The his- trionic art has ever been a jealous mistress to her followers ; and no class of professional men and women are, as a rule, so completely absorbed by their work as are actors and actresses. In this respect Mr. Booth 28 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY surpassed even the custom of his class. For forty years all his strength and industry, all his powers and parts, were concentrated upon the study and practice of his art. Ambition to excel and to shine was of course one of the feeders of the zeal which burned with such a pure and steady flame ; but it was only one. He was an actor as Shelley was a poet, Raphael a painter, Mozart a musician, an actor by every in- stinct of his nature, by the impulse of every drop of his blood. It may well be believed that what is called "society" lost much by his seclusion; but the social or unsocial habit of such an artist is not to be criticised. He knew what he had to do, and how best or only he could do it ; and through his fidelity to the law derived from that knowledge he wrought not only to his own best advantage, but to that of the entire community and nation. Mr. Booth's peculiar quality as a player was the nat- ural product of his endowment and mode of life. As an artist he lived an ideal existence. He was too quick and keen not to profit by his inevitable contacts with men ; but assiduous reading, study, and toil in the closet or on the stage, supplied both the substance and the color of his performance. In a man less richly endowed by nature such a life might have brought forth but barrenly ; with Mr. Booth it seemed to be the condition of his most fruitful achievement. Well has the artist lived whose hours have been spent in lofty intimacy with the great poets and dramatists ; and so it was well with our tragedian. His habits and associations were at once the consequence and the cause of his artistic temper. Under the guidance of the chosen companions of his life, he became incapable EDWIN BOOTH. 29 of vulgarity ; and as a player he became the shining exponent of that school of acting whose chief charac- teristic and distinction is ideality. All that was corporeal of the artist fitted well to his fine spiritual conditions. Some of my readers can recall his first appearance as a leading player at the Boston Theatre thirty-six years ago, and will remember that, like all other artists, he had his early faults and crudities of method ; but the process of correcting and ripening was rapid, and for a quarter of a century or more Mr. Booth was recognized as the best accom- plished actor of our stage. Free and graceful in mo- tion, with carriage and step which lent themselves with equal and perfect ease to the panther footfall of lago, the dignified alertness of Macbeth, and the stately progress of Othello; with a beautiful face whose mask was as wax under the moulding fingers of passion ; with a voice whose peculiar vibrant quality had an extraordinary power to stir the soul of the listener at the very moment of its appeal as music to the ear, all of Edwin Booth that was, in the choice phrase of Shakespeare, "out of door," was "most rich." And, without unduly exalting the mere material of his art, it is worth while to dwell for a moment upon the service which he constantly rendered to the ever-imperilled cause of pure and elegant speech. " Orators," teachers, preachers, many actors, some in one way, some in another, and some in nearly every conceivable way, set the example of bad utterance of our language. Mr. Booth's tongue might well in its kind have secured for him the praise which Chaucer's pen won for the first great English poet; for in his speech he was a "well of English undefiled," reviving and refreshing the 30 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. ancient tradition, which is now dying of inanition on English and American soil, that the stage is the nat- ural guardian of the nation's orthoepy. A faultless pronunciation, an enunciation distinct, clean, and clear, without formalism or apparent effort, an exquisite feel- ing for the sweetness of words, and a perfect sense of their relation to one another, united to give to his delivery exemplary distinction, and to make it a model and a standard. And, at a moment when the art seems almost to be lost to our theatre,' one must recur with melancholy pleasure to his mastery of the noble art of reciting English blank verse. The vast majority of our players helplessly and hopelessly stumble nowa- days in the attempt to interpret Shakespeare's lines : if they essay the rhythm, the meaning suffers a kind of smooth asphyxiation at their hands ; if they devote themselves to the thought, the verse degenerates into a queer variety of h itchy prose. Mr. Booth at no point of his career seemed to find any serious difficulty in putting into practice the theory to which all the great actors and critics before his day had subscribed, that in Shakespeare's blank verse sound and sense are as a rule so vitally united that what makes for the life of the one conduces to the life of the other; or, rather, that the master poet uses the melody and the flow of his measure as an implement in the expression of the idea or the emotion, almost as if he were a com- poser of music, employing words in lieu of tones. It is understood that no one can achieve high suc- cess as an actor who is not a master of the art of elocution, using the word " elocution " in its amplest sense. Such a master was Edwin Booth. Very few of our players are capable of dealing as he dealt with a EDWIN BOOTH. 31 difficult text, in such a fashion as will keep that per- fect relation of word to word, and clause to clause, by intonation, cadence, breathing, pause, and emphasis, which shall convey to the ear and mind of the lis- tener the thoughts of the dramatist in all their fulness, power, beauty, and just proportion. A definite touch here and a slurring there, a firm grasp of one end of this phrase and of the other end of that, a scramble or rush toward the close, coupled with an attempt "to make a point," that is a fair account of all that the commonplace actor ever attempts in dealing with long poetical or declamatory passages. Clever old Colley Gibber had upon this theme a word which, indicating the magnitude and delicacy of the player's task, will help us to distinguish the inferior histrionic artist in this kind from the superior: "In the just delivery of poetical numbers, particularly where the sentiments are pathetic, it is scarce credible upon how minute an ar- ticle of sound depends their greatest beauty and effect. The voice of a singer is not more strictly ty'd to Time and Tune than that of an actor in theatrical elocution. The least syllable too long or too slightly dwelt upon in a period, depreciates it to nothing, which very syl- lable, if rightly touched, shall, like the heightening stroke of light from a master's pencil, give life and spirit to the whole." Nearly all great actors experiment with a variety of parts early in their professional lives ; and some players continue the experimenting process through their en- tire careers, though the general tendency of middle and later age is of course toward the stability of repetition. In his first years upon the stage, Mr. Booth was mod- erately tentative, but soon settled himself to an almost 32 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. steady presentation of what may be called the classical characters of the English theatre. In his repertory were all the first men's parts in the chief tragedies of Shakespeare, except Timon, Posthumus, Coriolanus, and the Antony of " Antony and Cleopatra ; " and also Shylock, Benedick, and Petruchio in the maimed one- act summary of " The Taming of the Shrew." In the histories, he played Gloster, both in the familiar Colley Gibber perversion of " Richard III.," and in the excellent acting version of Shakespeare's play prepared for him by Mr. William Winter, Brutus and Cassius in "Julius Caesar," and, in 1887 and for a short time thereafter, Richard II. in the drama of that name. On several occasions during the first half of his career he essayed Romeo. Outside the Shakespearian drama, his. principal parts were those of Sir Giles Overreach in Massinger's " A New Way to Pay Old Debts," Don Cesar de Bazan, Sir Edward Mortimer in " The Iron Chest," Claude Melnotte, Pescara in " The Apostate," Ruy Bias, Brutus in John Howard Payne's tragedy, Bertuccio in "The Fool's Revenge" (Tom Taylor's ver- sion of "Le Roi s'Amuse" of Victor Hugo), and Riche- lieu. All the characters in this group except the last three he practically dropped from his acting list for a long time in the middle of his professional life, but some eight or nine years before his death "revived" them, in the stage phrase, for performance in New York, Boston, and some other cities. I have spoken briefly of Mr. Booth's fine physical equipment, and of the excellence of what may be called the outward part of his technique. But to attain suc- cess nobly and truly in the presentation of the char- acters which have been enumerated, it was necessary EDWIN BOOTH. 33 that great conditions of mind, temperament, and spirit should be united in the impersonator. Mr. Booth's intellectual strength and lucidity were of prime impor- tance to all his achievement, and conspicuous factors in all his work. I have no means of knowing what Mr. Booth's ability and desire were on other lines of study ; but of Shakespeare and the other English dramatists he was a close, intuitive, and discriminating student, often showing scholarly ability in judging of texts and readings, and constantly displaying such a mastery of the great playwright's thought in sum and in detail, as is possible only to a vivid and refined intelligence working strongly and assiduously. Justly to conceive, as an actor should conceive, a character like Hamlet, lago, or Shylock is a true intellectual gift, and has been given to a comparatively small number of performers. Mr. Booth's mind's eyesight was clear as crystal: he read, saw, understood, conceived ; then, by the opera- tion of the artist's constructive faculty, brought all the portions of his conception together, each clearly de- fined in itself, and definitely related to every other ; and when all had been, as it were, fused, or rather brought into a vital union, within the alembic of the spirit, the living product appeared. From time to time, of course, his conception of great characters changed, as his views of them were changed by further study or observation ; lines were deepened in one place, and softened in another ; colors were darkened here, and clarified there perhaps the entire character grew or lessened in size or sweetness or spirituality, or even was so modified in significant particulars as to produce a new effect. But at each stage of the process the artist's thought was clear and vivid, and fairly and in- 34 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. tuitivcly related to the writer whom he sought to inter- pret. A good example of these changes may be noted in passing. Mr. Booth's youthful idea of Shylock was of a literary and conventional order, according to the prevailing tradition of the stage ; it made prominent and predominant all the best traits of Shakespeare's creation, and exhibited the Jew as a victim of persecu- tion and an avenger of the wrongs of his race and re- ligion, showing him as a figure of heroic qualities and proportions. Then a remarkable change took place in the artist's idea; and he proceeded to suppress the ideality of his conception, and to strengthen in it all that was rudest and of the coarseness of common clay. His father's Shylock had been likened to a roaring lion, and described as " marked by pride of intellect and in- tense pride of race." Edwin Booth's was now an igno- ble, greedy, malicious usurer, a creature of tremendous but vile and vulgar passions, sometimes hideously jocu- lar, in the trial scene fawning upon Portia after the ruling in his favor, incapable of exaltation except for some rare brief moment, appealing to the spectator's imagination only on the lower side. This impersona- tion was, in its way, very human, and effectively em- bodied a conception of Shylock which may be easily defended as natural and Shakespearian. Gradually Mr. Booth made the tone of his impersonation more som- bre, dispensed with his lighter touches, and presented a personage of greater power and depth, though still of common mould. At last he came to a theory of the character in which the extremes of his former concep- tions were avoided ; out of which was evolved an im- personation of remarkable justness, consistency, and fulness, wherein neither the essential baseness of Shy- EDWIN BOOTH. 35 lock's nature nor the frequent dignity born of his passionate purpose was sacrificed. The depth and in- tensity, the lodged hate, the inflexible will, the stub- born spirit, and the fanatical conviction of the Jew were indicated with continuous and imposing power ; but Shylock was not represented with the loftiness of a Greek sage or of a Christian martyr because of the force of his evil passions and resolved temper. In this final assumption, Shakespeare's composite thought and unrelenting neutrality in the invention of Shylock were supremely well expressed ; yet every one of the pre- vious impersonations had been lucid, intellectually vig- orous, and fairly interpretative of the master dramatist. Through these qualities of intellectual force and clearness, used with the patient discretion of a close student, Mr. Booth became possessed of that rarest of histrionic possessions, a large style. The phrase is applied with flippant frequency to many artists, and seems to be comprehended about as seldom as it is merited. Upon the stage a large style is character- istic of the actor who is conscious, at every moment of his performance, not only of the needs of that moment, but of the total value and color of the char- acter he is presenting, and of the relation borne by the passion of the instant to all the stirs of passion which have preceded it. With the mere reading of the defi- nition, the observer of our modern stage has a painful vision of the small, deformed, fragmentary, spasmodic methods prevailing even among our more ambitious actors, who for the most part are well contented if they can utter any passion with a vaguely befitting naturalness. In the playing of such artists, Juliet, Imogen, and Parthenia have but one mode of ex- 36 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. pressing tenderness ; Rosalind and Viola but one kind of vivacity ; Gloster, Spartacus, and Lear but one form of rage. Many examples of Mr. Booth's largeness and artistic fulness of style might be cited. His lago is especially in point. In his scheme of that char- acter also, there had been an interesting process of development. Midway or moderately early in his career, Mr. Booth apparently decided that he must fit his performance of the part to his physical limita- tions. He made lago a light, comfortable villain, and bore down upon that side of the crafty Venetian's nature which allies him most closely with common humanity. But later he darkened the hues of his conception, and steadily increased its force, impetu- osity, and profundity. As thus finally presented, his lago was a masterpiece in respect of its breadth and finish of style, and was consummate in its malign beauty. In immediate appeal to the eye and the taste of the spectator, it was exceedingly interesting : a fasci- nating man, whose gayer air had the crisp sparkle of a fine winter's day; whose usual thoughtfulness was easy, poised, unaffected, potent, but not ponderous ; whose talk was sensible, shrewd, and just cynical enough to relish to the taste of the worldly ; whose wit was aston- ishingly keen, quick, inventive, prolific, and uttered with exquisite aptness by a tongue which drove or clinched a nail at every stroke ; handsome in face, graceful and free in motion and in manners, polished, frank, and rich in bonhomie. In the deeper portions of his nature, Mr. Booth's lago was endowed with an intellect as swift and subtle as electricity, and, like that mysterious ele- ment, capable of playing lightly over surfaces, or of rending the toughest obstacles in sunder. His temper EDWIN BOOTH. 37 was like some ethereal quicksilver in its sensitiveness, adapting itself to every mood of those whom it sought to influence ; and in its intensity of malevolence and potency of maleficence, his spirit had that right satanic quality which stopped not short of a consuming desire to torture and " enmesh " " all " good men and women, " ensnaring " them both in " soul and body," and did not fear to thrust its blasphemy into the very face of the Almighty. In diabolic force and blackness Mr. O J Booth's assumption was, I suppose, inferior to that of his father and of some of the other actors of the old heroic school. But in absolute self-consistency, in per- fectness of proportion, in the maintenance of a most " politic state of evil," and in the unfailing relation of every point and particular of the conception to every other, and to the total scheme, it was as noble an illustration of largeness of style as has been afforded by our modern stage. Intellectual force and lucidity of which, as has been said, Mr. Booth was possessed in an extraordi- narily high degree are essential to the conception of dramatic characters, and to the presentation of such characters in a large and finished style. The ability deeply to move and convince the spectator by per- formance is derived from the possession of another quality or set of qualities. To identify this quality or these qualities is not easy. Neither patience, nor close observation of nature, nor superior mimetic skill, nor even sincerity, nor all these together, will neces- sarily furnish the player with the power to enter into the inmost life of the personages that he represents, to possess them or to be possessed by them completely, and then so to present them as to carry conviction to 38 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. the soul of the spectator. I do not mean by " convic- tion " to imply that the auditor will ever, except for brief instants and at long intervals, lose the sense of the player's art, or forget that that art is representa- tive ; but that the actor shall so bring his audience into touch with the spirit of his creations that they shall be spiritually discerned, received, accepted, through the imagination believed in, and so loved or hated, honored or contemned ; shall be, in other words, brought into genuinely and deeply sympathetic relations with the men and women who see and hear. Lacking this power, the histrionic artist may interest, please, or charm, but, how clever soever he may be, cannot by any possibility profoundly stir the passions or touch the heart. -A full sense of the difference among play- ers in this respect is sometimes slow to develop itself, but it comes sooner or later to nearly all who study the stage intelligently. It is not difficult to divide our leading modern actors of the "serious" order into two classes, according to their possession or lack of this ability, and then to see that those of one variety appeal successfully to the eye, the taste, the critical judgment, to what may be called, in a large sense, the pictorial faculty of their spectators ; the actors of the other sort, to the same faculties, but chiefly to imagination, sensibility, and sympathy. These diverse appeals are made through the same or similar dramatic characters, and often, so far as I can judge, with little or no con- scious difference in the ambitions or hopes of the actors, all of whom, apparently, aim to touch the heart. Yet the results are as far apart as entertainment is from emotion. Mr. Irving and Mr. Willard may be named as players of the first kind, Salvini and Booth of the EDWIN BOOTH. 39 second. Some superiority in delicacy or fulness of sympathy, some hold upon a more intuitive imagina- tion, some higher potency or fervor of temperament, avail to give players of the larger order a more com- plete possession of the soul of the part which they assume, and then the gift so to share that possession as deeply to stir the "convinced" listener with the passions of the part. One simple, excellent test may be applied to indicate or enforce the distinction which has been made, try the performance by repeatedly witnessing it, and ob- serving its effect upon the mind and memory. Mr. Irving's Louis XL, for instance, may be fairly regarded as a fine example of his histrionic cleverness. In effectiveness and variety of "points," in delicacy of detail as to form, color, action, and tone, in consum- mate mimetic skill, it can scarcely be surpassed ; its picturesqueness is perfect. But scarcely even at a first sight of the performance is the spectator deeply moved either to horror, pain, or loathing ; on a second view, curiosity only remains ; and when, by another sight, curiosity has been satisfied, there is no further desire to witness the performance. Mr. Irving's impersona- tion of Charles I., to take another instance, stays, if it stays at all, within the memory of those who have be- held it as if it were an exquisitely finished portrait in oils of the unfortunate monarch ; but the recollection causes no trouble of the spirit. Mr. Willard's Cyrus Blenkarn is recalled for its careful workmanship, decent reserve, and regard for the modesty of nature, which are respectfully and unperturbedly remembered. These artists, and such ns these, fine and admirable as they are in many respects, show the eyes, but do not grieve 40 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. the heart ; like a procession of shadows and pictures their creations come, and so depart. Compare with this the hold which the greater performances of Salvini have upon the spirit, first in representation and after- ward in remembrance. It is scarcely possible to recall his Conrade in " La Morte Civile," or his Othello, or his Samson, without a sense of tug at the heartstrings ; and repeated view of such performances scarcely dulls the spectator's pleasure, for the spirit is slow to tire of the strenuous joy of its own sympathetic travail or pain. To Mr. Booth this great power was given, not indeed in the interpretation of all his characters, but of the chiefest of them. He entered into and uttered the in- ner life of his prime creations ; and one knew the com- pleteness of his mastery by the delightful heartache, the throb in the throat, the flush of the cheek, which bespoke the "conviction" of the auditory. His Riche- lieu, as it was presented at the highest point of his career, when it had been largely divested of theatrical- ness, but had lost nothing of the player's force, may be selected as a good example of his power in this kind. The character itself does not afford the greatest oppor- tunities of course ; but it is interesting at the outset to note that Mr. Booth nol;, only filled to overflowing the conception of Bulwer, but went far beyond it, and imported into the character of the cardinal a wealth of truth and life which transcended the scheme of the text. The inconsistencies of the cardinal were recon- ciled or made acceptable by Mr. Booth's treatment. The personal flavor and intellectual quality of the man were shown with absolute vividness ; his wit, his humor, his cunning, his insight into character, his bodily deli- EDWIN BOOTH. 4! cacy and frequent lonesomeness, his one exacting form of vanity, his diplomatic unscrupulousness, his aptness in flattery, his subtlety, speed, versatility, and fruitful- ness of resource, were made portions of a living pic- ture, and fused by the imagination of the player into a creation which took possession of the spectator's memory. A hundred even of his lighter phrases are unforgetable. The sly shrewdness delighting in its knowledge of men, and in its own duplicity as a neces- sary implement of statecraft with which, questioning Joseph concerning Huguet's fidelity, he says, " Think we hanged his father ! Trash ! favors past that's nothing. In his hours Of confidence with you has he named the favors To come, he counts on ? Colonel and nobleman ! My bashful Huguet ! that can never be! \Ve have him not the less we'll promise it And see the king withholds; " the exquisite finesse and perfect ease with which, after frankly holding out the bait of a colonelcy to Huguet, in the words, " If I live long enough ay, mark my words If I live long enough, you'll be a colonel," he adds, half under his breath, slowly, in a ruminating tone as if expressing a confidential afterthought, yet with a clearly edged enunciation which carries straight to the captain's ear, " Noble - perhaps " 42 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. the delicately ironical flavor of the half-line with which, after his resignation, he comments upon the king's appointment of his successor, De Baradas, " A most sagacious choice; " the tenderness of his comforting promise to Julie, his stricken ward, "All will be well; yes, yet all well," the short words dropping full and slow and sweet, as if they were laden with balm, where could one pause in the chronicle, every line of which is a reminder and proof of the extraordinary intuition and just naturalness with which the actor penetrated the depths of the car- dinal's spirit, and converted his knowledge into the very substance of imaginative life ? Early in his career Mr. Booth played the character brilliantly well, but with every added year he made some gain on the lighter side of his performance, bringing to it a yet wiser discre- tion, a more delicate chastity of phrase, a more complete abnegation of vulgar over-emphasis, until the portrai- ture was etched, as it were, on the tissue of the spec- tator's brain with some uninjurious acid. The more intense, vehement, and lofty passions of the character were interpreted by Mr. Booth with varying degrees of histrionic skill. Often, in his younger period, his dec- lamation of this or that famous speech of the cardinal was superfluously theatrical, or degenerated even into rant ; at his point of greatest ripeness he had nearly rid himself and his style of fustian, and met the supreme test by producing powerful effects without extravagance in speech or in action. But, with all its imperfections on its head, Mr. Booth's Richelieu, at EDWIN BOOTH. 43 any time within the last fifteen years of his life, dem- onstrated in its stronger aspects the master actor upon the lines which I am now considering. It indeed piqued and gratified the curiosity, and stimulated and fed the spectator's sense of the picturesque. But that kind of achievement was as naught in comparison with the actor's "conviction" of his hearers' hearts. Always at some point in the performance, often at many points, when the cardinal's spirit blazed in ecstasy of courage or wrath, or when, especially, all weaknesses and insin- cerities solved in the pure flame of a true love of France, Richelieu stood, moved, and spoke, a veritable incarnation of the spirit of patriotism, the listener's soul would be stirred, thrilled, strained almost, it some- times seemed consumed, by a passionate sympathy. Such pain and such joy it is given only to the actor of the first order to produce. The source of the pro- ducing power lies chiefly perhaps in temperamental force, and its basis may be partly or largely physical. But, however derived, it is unmistakable, the sine qua non of the great tragedian ; and the lack of it relegates the tragic actor to the second rank of his profession. The tragedian who is master of the mimetic detail of his art, of a large and finished style, and ol the power to compel the hearts of men by the passii n of the scene, is a great actor. Edwin Booth was si ch a master. For my present purpose, it remains only to be said that his prime distinction among the pi ivers of our time lay in a quality for which I know no better name than ideality. The possession of that quality a century or even half a century ago could scarce!} have conferred distinction upon a serious actor. 1'layers were endowed with it in various degrees of course; 44 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. but from Garrick to Junius Brutus Booth, through all the illustrious lines of Kembles and Keans, the trage- dians of the elder day assumed it as a part of their theory, so to speak. It was taken for granted by the scholarly Macready, and even the passionate and sen- suous-natured Forrest confidently aspired to its posses- sion. It is easy to see why these artists had a tradition in favor of ideality ; their acting had been modelled upon the requirements of the dramas and characters which they represented ; their playing was ideal, even as and because their plays were ideal. In our time a change has taken place, slowly, but with almost un- remitting steadiness. We have seen the tragedies of Shakespeare less and less in evidence ; and, in a day when the study of the master poet is more thorough and more general than ever before, we have witnessed the phenomenon of the gradual disappearance of his serious dramas from the theatre. Edwin Booth, came down to us from a former generation, and brought with him the tradition which, transmitted to him by his father, had had its source in the rude stage upon which Burbage played. He was an actor of the ideal order, and riot of that school which is now known as the realistic. Nothing but necessity would compel me to comment upon that offensive pair of adjectives, whose votaries and vassals are wearying the world with their endless battles and squabbles, the world wherein room must be found, in one way or another, for Raphael and Vereschagin, for Scott and Tolstoi, for Corot and Courbet, for Hawthorne and Jane Austen, for Shakespeare's Imogen and Ibsen's Nora. Upon the stage the schools are sharply distinguished, but seldom clash, because they seldom meet. Tragedy of EDWIN BOOTH. 45 the higher order is the natural home of ideal acting, even as comedy is the usual place of the realistic. Thus far, indeed, the dramatists whom the world has accepted as great are ranged with the ideals. Most of them, whether writers of tragedy or of comedy, are of the old regime, to be sure; for the positions of Ibsen and of the Belgian, Maetterlinck, have not been settled for English-speaking people, any more than have the places of Mr. Pinero, Mr. Herne, Mr. Barnard, Mr. Harrigan, and other playwrights of local reputa- tion. But the drift is now steadily away from what has been received as classic ; and, especially in comedy, the stage " is subdued to what it works in, like the dyer's hand." In playing the tragedies of Shakespeare, on the other hand, sensitive actors have for the most part found themselves under a strong compulsion toward the ideal style. All good acting must of course be derived from, and keep a firm hold on, reality or nature, and must be, therefore, in its essence, realistic in the preciser sense of the word. Yet in the higher ranges of the drama, and especially in its poetic forms, there are many characters which demand both to be conceived and to be expressed ideally ; that is to say, to be lifted above the commonplace of daily life into the realm of fancy; to be so represented that, though their kinship with humanity is never lost, their prime citizenship is dem- onstrated to be in the land of the imagination. Even when the question is not of the most exalted or poetic creations, most persons can perceive that the style of the dramatist ought in some measure to control the style of the actor ; that Rosalind demands a d'ffVrent treatment from Lady Gay Spanker, Sir Giles Over- 46 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. reach from Martin Berry. And though an eccentric actor has occasionally clone his despite upon Shylock or Gloster, an almost perfect consensus of mankind would probably assume that the great tragic characters of the higher drama should be played in a fashion accordant somehow with the loftiness of their language and scheme. It is foreign to my purpose to discuss the peculiari- ties of this loftier mode of playing. The essential thing to be noted is that the artist of the ideal school reaches his results by a method which removes them from and above every-day life; deliberately departing, in his bearing and utterance, from the familiar mode of parlor, counting-room, and street, by the adoption of a style at once more distinct, more formal, and more ele- vated. The absurdities into which this manner may run in the gesture, walk, and declamation of incom- petent performers have been the subject of ridicule almost ever since the stage and the actor came into existence. Shakespeare, even in the day when tragedy was "preferred " by gentle and simple, declared, through the mouth of Hamlet, that the extravagant action, the strut, the bellow, and the rant of the actor of the robus- tious sort offended him " to the soul." Even very capable players are in danger, as we all know, of achiev- ing fustain in attempting velvet. But the grand style in its own place is none the less the true style because the attainment of it is beset by grievous dangers. Its function is not at any time nor under any temptation, whatsoever the opinion of superficial critics to the con- trary may be, to defy or defeat nature. When the histrionic artist has the true feeling for his business, and a true skill in his art, his product is supremely EDWIN BOOTH. 47 natural, if the nature of man, as seen by the clarifying, penetrating light of the imagination, and cleansed by the poet's power from what is transient and inessential, is to be taken as the standard. Upon the stage, poetry has a language and voice of its own, which differ from those of our working-clay life mainly because the higher mood of the mind or spirit, which is here intermittently experienced, is there maintained without fall or break ; and that language it is the business and privilege of the actor of the ideal order to speak to the audience, which is his world. Edwin Booth's art was pre-eminently idealistic. That he sometimes erred and displeased by his adherence to a stilted and conventionally theatrical style is not to be questioned. But, judged at and by his best, he attained the noble distinction of so interpreting the loftiest creations of the first of dramatists, that his impersonations were both beautifully ideal and harmo- nious with the essential truth of life. If the faults of his Hamlet had been twenty times greater than they were, they would not have destroyed the high value of an assumption which reproduced the essence of the poet's thought, and imaged before us the very form and soul of Shakespeare's prophetic embodiment of the anxious, speculative, superrefined, and introverted hu- manity of modern times. Mr. Booth's impersonation of King Lear may be instanced, I think, as the greatest expression of his powers in this noble kind. The artist's achievement in this part was the more remark- able because of his lack of the highest physical force, and the impossibility consequent perhaps upon that deficiency of his reaching such sublimity of effect as that of Salvini, for example, at the Italian's grandest 48 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. moments. But Mr. Booth's Lear was so wrought as to be as pure a triumph of the spiritual over the mate- rial as the warmest devotee of the idealistic could wish to see. Without extravagance of gesture, which, indeed, Mr. Booth always used sparingly, without violence of voice, without extreme effort of any kind, the chaotic vastness of Lear's nature, the frenzied wrath and woe of the "child-changed father," his agony of contrition over his rejection of Cordelia, the intel- lectual splendors which fitfully illuminate the pathos of his madness, and the sweet anguish of his restora- tion to a new life of the soul, were greatly displayed. The subtlety, picturesqueness, and graphic vividness of all the details of the performance, especially in the second and third acts, were remarkable, but were scarcely to be esteemed in comparison with the imme- diate power of the impersonation to touch the deepest springs of emotion. It might be said without extrava- gance that the actor's victory in the performance was like that of the dramatist in the tragedy. Who can estimate or overestimate the worth to the world of such art as this ? The actor dies, and leaves no sign or memorial of his prowess, it has been often said; even Garrick and Edmund Kean, Sicldons and Rachel, are but names, to which the modern ear scarcely permits a hospitable entrance. But acting such as that of Mr. Booth in Lear, which lifts the spectator for a time almost to the level of the play, and transports him be- yond the ignorant present, which shows the spirit to itself by the searching illumination of the poet's genius, must have a power far transcending the effect of the moment. In his highest achievements, Edwin Booth was an actor of the spirit, to the spirit, for the spirit, EDWIN BOOTH. 49 a pure interpreter of the master dramatist ; and the echoes which he there awakened must roll, like the poet's own, we may well believe, from soul to soul, and grow forever and forever. I have not attempted to deal, except indirectly, with Mr. Booth's faults of style ; but justice seems to de- mand a few words of comment upon his two chief pro- fessional limitations. He was unsuccessful in playing the lover upon the stage ; he had no gift in mirth- fulness. The former proposition needs perhaps a little qualification. Mr. Booth at some moments, as in his Hamlet, Othello, and Sir Edward Mortimer, suc- ceeded in speaking the voice of the divine passion with impressive earnestness, and with the suggestion of great depth of feeling. But his touch in this kind was always heavy, his tone portentous. The fluent love of youth, love of that intermittent, palpitating, many-hued variety which is redundantly called " sen- timental," he had no skill to utter ; and his imper- sonation of Claude Melnotte, for example, was even more artificial than Sir Bulwer Lytton's style in "The Lady of Lyons." In comedy Mr. Booth often sparkled ; and sometimes, as in Petruchio and Don Cesar de Bazan, he was gay and entertaining. But, like all his family, he had no power to excite laughter. His per- formance of Benedick may be cited as his highest achievement in the lighter drama ; it was elegant, easy, of great intellectual brilliancy and charm, but quite devoid of that capacity for creating mirth which Shakespeare makes a prime quality in his hero. Of Mr. Booth's personal character it would be un- becoming in me to speak in this place, except for a reason which compels me to say a single word. Hr 50 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO DAY. presented the spectacle the more impressive because it has not been very common of a life which was all upon one plane. Pure, generous, high-minded, incapa- ble of vulgar arts, either of defence or display, he lived upon the stage of the world, even as on the mimic stage, an ideal life. And the one appalling disaster and sorrow of his experience he bore with such pa- tience and magnanimity as presently reconquered the favor of a shaken and bewildered nation. Only great men can thus greatly endure great griefs. The soul of Edwin Booth, like the art of Edwin Booth, was of the truly heroic type. Edwin Booth was the son of Junius Brutus Booth, and was born in Maryland, Nov. 13, 1833. He accompanied his father in professional tours, and on the roth of September, 1849, rnade his dibut as Tressel to the elder Booth's Richard III. at the Boston Museum. A little later the two travelled along the Pacific Coast, but met with financial disappointments. Returning East after his father's death, Edwin found success awaiting him. From that time till his decease he was the leading light of the American stage. In November, 1864, he began in New York the famous hundred night run of" Hamlet/' On Feb. 3, 1869, he opened his own (Booth's) theatre in New York as Romeo to the Juliet of his future wife, Mary McVicker. Poor business management brought disaster to this enterprise in ownership, but the artistic success of Booth's productions was universally acknowledged. The fortune lost was soon regained, when after joint appearance with Salvini, Booth starred, under the management of Lawrence Barrett, at one time with Barrett, and at another time with Modjeska. He was twice married : in 1860 to Miss Mary Devlin (by whom he had one child, Edwina), in 186910 Miss McVicker. He died in New York, June 7, 1893, having made his last appearance on the stage at Brooklyn (in " Hamlet ") on the 4th of April, 1891, two weeks after the deatli of Mr. Barrett. Mr. Booth had visited England, and had there acted with Henry Irving, but his reception was not cordial. In Germany he was warmly greeted. MARY ANDERSON. MARY ANDERSON. BY JOHN I). BARRY. THERE were no omens to herald the coming of a brilliant acquisition to the theatre when, on Saturday night, Nov. 27, 1875, " a young lady of Louisville" made her first appearance on the stage in her own city. The wonderful girlish beauty of the novice, she was only sixteen, the earnestness with which she threw herself into her part, the crude power and strength of her rich voice, made her triumph more than a smri's d'estimc. Discerning critics who witnessed the per- formance saw in her the physical charms of an Ade- laide Neilson, with the dramatic possibilities of a second Siddons. The whole audience recognized in her the possession of rare dramatic gifts, and a great career was predicted. Her name was Mary Anderson. Those who knew Mary Anderson cannot have been surprised at her success ; for, from her earliest youth, her passion for the theatre, which manifested itself in a fondness for reading plays and for mimicking those few actors whom she was permitted to see, combined with the charms of her personality, made the road to the stage an almost inevitable one for her to pursue. Her talent manifested itself spontaneously ; it was not an inheritance. None of her ancestors had been associ- 5< 52 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. atecl with the theatre and stage. Her father was a native of New York; and her mother was Marie An- toinette Lugers, a Philadelphia!! of German parentage. Mary was born in Sacramento, Cal., in 1859. The fol- lowing year the family moved to Louisville, where they lived for several years. Her father died in 1863, at the age of twenty-nine, while fighting in the Civil War on the side of the South. In 1867 her mother married Dr. Hamilton Griffin, who ever after was a devoted parent to her, and to whose untiring energy in her behalf much of her success was due. Mary Anderson's school training was meagre. It does not follow from this fact that her education was poor. The restraints of school life were extremely irk- some to the girl ; and she distinguished herself during her school days chiefly by the exuberance of her spirits, which was a source of constant trouble to her teachers. That her education was not taken very seri- ously is evident from the fact that she left school at the age of fourteen, and never returned to it. Perhaps it would be more exact to say that her intellectual training began rather than ended at this period ; for she devoted her leisure to the practice of those pur- suits which were her delight, and which were almost her only preparation for the stage. She steeped herself in Shakespeare, for whom she had conceived an intense fondness. This surely was an indication of a natural literary appreciation which should be, but unhappily rarely is, one of the actor's chief attributes. She com- mitted to memory long passages from the more cele- 'brated of the Shakespearian dramas, and learned the parts of Hamlet, Richard III., and Wolsey, besides those of Richelieu and Schiller's Joan of Arc. At MARY ANDERSON. 53 every opportunity she attended theatrical performances, and on her return home delighted in mimicking the actors whom she had seen. Her parents indulged her fondness for elocution by securing for her the instruction of Professor Noble Butler, a Louisville teacher of long experience and excellent repute. Her studies with him naturally fos- tered her desire to go on the stage. She worked hard to develop her voice, the strength of which she realized was an essential element to success, and busied herself with many private performances of scenes from famous plays in her room. When she was about fourteen, Edwin Booth played in Louisville, and she saw him for the first time. She was so moved by his performance of Richard III. that she determined to give a repetition of parts of it at home. This she did before a small audience of her friends ; she appeared in the tent scene, and also added to the performance by giving the cottage scene from the " Lady of Lyons." A short time afterwards, while she was in Cincinnati, she called on Charlotte Cushman, who was then living there, in order to obtain from the celebrated actress advice as to whether she should enter the theatrical profession. Miss Cushman heard her recite, was struck by her power and charmed with her beauty, and advised her not only to become an actress, but to begin her career as a star. Her approval removed whatever scruples Mary Anderson's mother had entertained against her public appearance; and it was decided that Mary should go at once to New York in order to take some lessons in elocution and dramatic action from the younger Vandenhoff, who was then teaching with success in that city. He gave her ten lessons, 54 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. which formed practically the only training she received before her first appearance. In 1875 Mr. Barney Macauley, the well-known actor and manager, was conducting a theatre in Louisville, called by his name. Mary Anderson appealed to him for an opportunity to make her debut. He decided that he might utilize the interest which her appear- ance would arouse in Louisville for a benefit in behalf of Milnes Levick, a stock actor well known in this country and in England, for which he was then making preparations. One Thursday she was told that she might appear the following Saturday night as Juliet. Costumes were hastily prepared for her, one rehearsal of the tragedy was held, and when the Saturday night arrived she began that career which is without a par- allel in the history of the American stage. Mary Anderson's first regular engagement was played at Macauley's. She repeated her performance of Juliet, and was seen in three new roles, Bianca, in the old- fashioned tragedy of " Fazio," now rarely given ; Julia, in " The Hunchback ; " and Evadne, in the well-known drama of that name.' All of these parts gave her opportunities to display her dramatic ability. She was wise in making her first appearances in heavy roles; for it is far easier for a novice gifted as she was with tragic power, however crude, to succeed in them, than in roles which demand a more subtle art for their successful delineation. Her engagement at Macauley's caused her fame to spread throughout the West, and secured for her, a few weeks later, an opportunity to appear in St. Louis. Here she was received coldly ; but in spite of the small size of her audience, she will always remember that MARY ANDERSON. 55 engagement with pleasure, for it won for her the admi- ration and friendship of General Sherman, which con- tinued to the end of his life. Her next engagement was in New Orleans, where the first night she played to a handful of people. Some members of the local military college who were present, however, were so delighted, that between the acts they procured a large number of bouquets, and deluged her with them. Her success was so pronounced that the interest of the whole city was aroused ; and at the end of the week the theatre was filled with enthusiastic audiences. A second engagement in New Orleans was quickly arranged. Miss Anderson began it with her first per- formance of Meg Merrilies, a curious part, by the way, for a young girl to play, and one for which her youth and inexperience unfitted her. She is said, neverthe- less, to have made up so perfectly for the character of the old hag, and to have acted with such spirit, that her audiences were impressed by her ability and versatility. At the close of her second engagement in New Orleans, she was presented by General Beauregard with an enamelled belt, studded with jewels, the badge of the Washington Artillery, and bearing the inscription, "To Mary Anderson, from Her Friends of the Battalion." Miss Anderson's early career was not, as it is popu- larly supposed to have been, all roses. During her engagement in the fall of 1X76, in San Francisco, where she appeared at John McCullough's theatre, supported by his stock company, she experienced a dismal failure. The audiences were cold to her, and the critics treated her with severity. Nevertheless, John McCullough and Fdwin Booth, who happened to be in the city at the time, helped her with their interest 56 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. and counsel. At their suggestion she appeared during this engagement in the role of Parthenia, with which her fame was afterwards closely identified. She returned home to suffer another dishearten- ing trial, during her summer tour through Kentucky towns, when her audiences dwindled to such small numbers that, in spite of her ambition, she was obliged to discontinue playing. After a short season of de- pression, during which she almost despaired of success, she received an offer from John T. Ford, the Washing- ton manager, to star under his direction, and supported by his company, for a salary of three hundred dollars a week. She accepted it, and began then her career of unbroken success. For three years she travelled through the West and South, winning triumph after triumph, filling her manager's coffers, and receiving the enthusiastic praises, as well as some criticisms, of the press. On the 1 2th of November she made her debut in New York, as Pauline in the " Lady of Lyons." Her engagement lasted six weeks, during which she was seen as Juliet, Evadne, Meg Merrilies, and Parthenia. Her beauty and talent won as warm recognition from the New York public as they had in the West, but she was not received with favor by several of the local critics. Her experience in Boston this season was very similar to that in New York ; though the people- flocked to see her, and applauded her enthusiastically, some of the Boston critics subjected her to severe treatment. The popular favor, however, which she found in both these cities assured her success in the East, and placed her in the foremost rank among living American actresses. MARY ANDERSON. 57 In the summer of 1879 Mary Anderson made her first visit to Europe. She went with her young mind already broadened by extended travel in her own coun- try, and made sensitive to new impressions by the culture which her stage career had given her. She saw the leading actors of England, made a pilgrimage- to Stratford-on-Avon, visited Paris, where she made the acquaintance of Sarah Bernhardt, and was permitted to enter the sacred precincts behind the scenes of the Theatre Fran^ais. She also met, during her visit there, the celebrated actress, Adelaide Ristori, who heard her recite, and gave her warm encouragement. The next four years of Mary Anderson's life were repetitions of her first triumphs ; she added to her repertoire, and deepened the impression she had made on the people in the United States and Canada. Her fame spread from America to England, and she re- ceived a very flattering offer from Henry E. Abbey to appear under his management in London at Henry Irving' s Lyceum Theatre. After some hesitation she accepted the offer, and arrangements were completed by which she was to make her London debit t on the 1st of September, 1883. The piece selected for the occasion was " Ingomar." This choice was generally regarded as so unfortunate, on account of the comparative antiquity and the stilted character of the play, that it was feared it might seri- ously interfere with her success. The young actress was so nervous that she was almost overcome; but on her appearance before the vast audience which hail assembled to greet her, she was received with such a generous welcome that courage returned, and though not able to do herself perfect justice, her beauty, grace, 5 8 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. and the power and refinement of her acting, \von an unmistakable triumph. An incident occurred a few moments after her first appearance on the scene, which was not without significance. Unable to gauge the size of the theatre, she could not make her voice heard distinctly in all parts of the house. Suddenly, piping tones from the gallery cried, " A little louder, Mary." Though she had not been warned to heed the mag- nates of the gallery, who are a great power in English theatres, she wisely obeyed the injunction, and thus gained their favor at the start. The American girl's success in London is said to have been almost unprecedented. Her audiences were even larger than those of Henry Irving. It was, per- haps, in the character of Galatea that she was most admired ; though great popularity was won in the lead- ing role of " Comedy and Tragedy," a short play which W. S. Gilbert had written for her. Among her audi- ences were the most prominent people of England. The Prince and Princess of Wales were so pleased that they complimented her in person. Mr. Gladstone, Lord Lytton (Owen Meredith), Tennyson, and many others of almost equal repute, became her friends. After a long engagement in London, she appeared in leading cities of England, Scotland, and Ireland, where she was received by large audiences with great en- thusiasm. In the fall of 1887 Miss Anderson returned to America, and made a triumphal tour of this country. The distinction she had won abroad made her even more popular in her native land than she had been before. On her second professional visit to England, the following season, she repeated several of her old MARY ANDERSON. 59 performances, and then gave an elaborate production of the " Winter's Tale," playing the tolcs of Hermione and Perdita, in both of which she found great favor from the public. The next season she returned to this countrv, and j * presented this play here, with all the accessories which had won distinction for it abroad. Her season, how- ever, was suddenly interrupted early in the spring by a serious attack of illness, which overtook her while she was playing in St. Louis, and compelled her to abandon work. Her retirement proved to be her final withdrawal from the stage. She proceeded to England, which had become her second home, and was endeared to her by the beauty of its scenery, and by the ties of friendship she hail formed there. In a few months she regained her health, and in the summer of 1890 she was married to Mr. Antonio Navarro of New York. She is now living quietly in England, and has forever abandoned the stage. In the literary field her autobiography, pub- lished in 1896, has proved an interesting work. It would be futile at this time to attempt to assign to Mary Anderson a place in the history of dramatic art. But it is not unreasonable to say that her place will not be among the immortals, if the fame of any actor, however great, may be said to l>j immortal, with Siddons, Cushman, or Adelaide Neilson. How- ever effective she may have been in certain parts, her acting was never absolutely convincing. What is genius in an actor except the ability to convince the spectator that his performance is an artistic reality ? Mary An- derson is remembered now for the two qualities which contributed most to her popularity, beauty and de- 60 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS Of TO-DAY. clamatory power, both of which, by an apparent para- dox, prevented her from winning ultimate success. Her beauty was so conspicuous that it tended rather to obscure than to intensify the impression her work made upon the public, ever more ready to pay homage to the lovely woman than the actress; and her declama- tion was so powerful that it attracted attention to itself, and took the performer out of the dramatic picture. Mary Anderson possessed all the materiel of a great artist, except the soul. If the spirit of the French tragedienne, Rachel, which was too strong for the feeble body, could have been breathed into her, she would have become the greatest of modern actresses ; but, lacking soul, she consequently lacked plasticity, which is an essential attribute of the truly great artist. It is true that she gained in plasticity as she developed with experience, but she never attained to a high degree that mobility of motion and expression which is so conspicuous in the art of Sarah Bernhardt. Her deficiency in this regard was very marked in the role of Clarice, in "Comedy and Tragedy," which, though short, runs the whole gamut of human emotion. In it Mary Anderson displayed her inability to free herself from her own refined personality, and to assume the brazen manner of one who pretended to be dissolute. In the " Winter's Tale " she showed, as Hermione, how admirable she could' be as an elocutionist without being admirable as an actress ; and as Perdita, how de- lightful an actress she could become by adopting an absolute simplicity of style. In spite of her defects, however, she must be credited with having given to the modern stage one ideal performance, that of Gala- tea. Her acting in this role was the perfection of MARY ANDERSON. 6 1 naturalness and grace. It alone ought to win for her the admiration and gratitude of all lovers of the drama. She has also left to the stage the tradition of a large number of brilliant, if not great, impersonations. Her influence on the theatre was for its good. She gave pleasure to hundreds of thousands of people, many of whom learned through her to appreciate the beauty of Shakespeare's women. She sought in her brief career, notably during the last few years of it, to pro- duce the best plays and in the best way. Hut most notable of all, for it is a noble tribute to the influence of the stage on those who pursue the profession of acting with a high purpose, her career was marked by a steady development, not merely in her art, but in her character and intellect as well. She entered the theatre an unsophisticated girl, and left it a mature woman, whose best qualities of mind and heart had been fostered by it. LAWRENCE BARRETT. BY B. E. WOOLF. IN January, 1857, one Mrs. Denis MacMahon be- gan an engagement at Burton's old Chambers Street Theatre in New York. She was a stage-struck debu- tante of a certain social distinction ; but she made no very great impression, and disappeared from public view shortly after. Her opening play was "The Hunchback," and as Julia she was subjected to some exceedingly harsh criticism that was not undeserved. Not so the performer who enacted Sir Thomas Clifford. He was a young man, nineteen years of age, lean of figure, haggard of face, and not over graceful in bear- ing ; but he at once attracted attention by the purity of his elocution, the vigor with which he threw him- self into the part, and the intensity of feeling that characterized his acting generally. The critics next morning spoke of him in terms of warm praise, and pronounced him a rough diamond that would shine with the purest lustre when duly polished. No one had heard of him in New York before, but from that moment he was never forgotten. His name was Lawrence Patrick Barrett ; and he was born of Irish parents in Paterson, N.J., April 14, 1838. They were in poor circumstances, and could give him few opportu- 62 LAWRENCE BARRETT. LAWRENCE BARRETT. 63 nities to acquire an education ; in fact, so narrow were their circumstances financially, that he was called on when a mere boy to seek employment that he might add his quota to the scant income of his family. His parents had moved from Paterson to Detroit ; and it was there, as an errand-boy in a dry-goods store, that he earned his first salary. Through the exertions of some friends who were in- terested in the leaning he manifested toward the stage, he obtained employment as call-boy at the Metropoli- tan Theatre in Detroit, at the not encouraging salary of $2.50 a week. Thenceforward he devoted himself heart and soul to the theatre. He was naturally an intelligent lad, but his path was an arduous one ; for at the age of fourteen he could scarcely read, and had not mastered more than the rudiments of writing. It is a repetition of an old, old story, in which tireless study, constant labor, and self-denial under discoura- ging conditions, win in the battle of life. .This young man became eventually a well-cultivated scholar of wide reading that he had thoroughly digested and assimilated, a master of the whole field of English lit- erature, and an authority on all that related to the history of the stage. While officiating as call-boy in the Detroit Theatre, he enlisted the attention of the manager, who had over- heard him reciting speeches from Shakespeare for the amusement of his companions ; and lie was at last in- trusted with the modest part of Murad in "The French Spy." He bore himself so earnestly and creditably in it that he was from time to time cast in other small parts. He was then fifteen years of age. He remained in Detroit for another year, and then removed to Pitts- 64 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. burg, where he became a member of the Grand Opera House stock company, at the time under the manage- ment of Joseph Foster. During this period he had risen to parts of impor- tance, and his progress in his art was equally marked and rapid. Declining offers of a renewal of his en- gagement for another season, he went to New York. He had no definite plans, and his prospects were not encouraging. When his spirits were at their lowest, and his courage failing, he received the offer to sup- port Mrs. MacMahon, and, as has been already stated, made an admirable impression as Sir Thomas Clifford in " The Hunchback." During the four weeks that this engagement lasted, Mr. Barrett appeared in a variety of parts, among them Fazio, Ingomar, Armand Duval, Claude Melnotte, and The Stranger. Two months later he was engaged by Burton for his new theatre, the Metropolitan, afterward known as the Winter Gar- den ; and on March 2, 1857, and when scarcely nine- teen years old, he appeared there as Matthew Bates in Douglas Jerrold's comedy, " Time Tries All." Three months after Barrett's advent at the Metropolitan, Edwin Booth, fresh from his triumphant engagement in California, began an engagement at this house ; and the two young men, both on the threshold of their great careers, acted together for the first time In 1858 Mr. Barrett joined the company at the Bos- ton Museum as its leading man. Here he met with hearty appreciation, and during the two years of his stay at this house he played a great variety of parts ; but neither in New York nor in Boston had he, up to this time, aroused any enthusiasm as an actor. He was lacking in what is called personal magnetism ; and LAWRENCE BARRETT. 65 the precision of his elocution was considered pedantic, monotonous, and wanting in truth to nature. These qualities, however, continued with him to the last. He remained two seasons at the Museum, and then went to the Howard Athenxum, in the same city, where, under the management of K. L. Davenport, who had gathered about him a notably fine company, he ap- peared in a large range of characters. The outbreak of the war unsettled theatrical affairs; and on the first call for soldiers, Mr. Barrett enlisted, and served as captain of a company in the Twenty-eighth Massachu- setts Volunteers, from October, 1861, to August, 1863. Returning home, he joined the company at the Walnut Street Theatre, Philadelphia, remaining with it for three months, after which he accepted an engagement in Washington. Thence he returned to Philadelphia, this time to the Chestnut Street Theatre, where he acted again in support of Edwin Booth. Barrett was now twenty-five years old, and burning with ambition to win fame as an interpreter of the principal roles in the standard tragedies. About this time Edwin Booth made Barrett an offer to play the opposite parts to him in an important engagement at the Winter Garden. Simultaneously he received a proposition to enter into partnership with Mr. Lewis Baker in the management of the Varieties Theatre, the leading play-house of New Orleans. Mr. Barrett did not hesitate long in closing with tin- latter offer, as it afforded him the long-wished-for opportunity to enact the line of parts that had hitherto eluded him. He began the active management of the Varieties in the fall of 1863, and continued it for thirty weeks. In the course of this season he performed some of the 66 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. great parts that he had so deeply and continuously studied, among them Richelieu, Hamlet, and Shylock. His success though not overwhelming was, neverthe- less, flattering. His great triumph of this period of his career was as Elliot Grey in Lester Wallack's " Rosedale." The season was brought to a sudden close by the destruction of the theatre by fire ; and then Mr. Barrett made his first essay as a star, appear- ing in the fall of 1864 in " Rosedale," at Pike's Opera House, Cincinnati. With this play he had a profitable season, and it was his chief attraction in 18651866. He paid a visit to England iii the summer of 1866, but did not act. A year later he repeated the visit, under an engagement to play in Liverpool for one week. He had several offers to act in other cities ; but as the terms and the conditions were unsatisfactory, he did not accept them, and returned home in December, 1867, under an engagement to open at Maguire's Opera House, San FYancisco, Feb. 17, 1868. The character chosen by him for his debut there was Hamlet, and his success was decided ; so much so, that the engagement was extended to eleven weeks, during the whole of which term it was prosperous. His next move was to open the new California Theatre, under joint manage- ment with John McCullough. The season began Jan. 1 8, 1869, and continued during twenty months, with a success hitherto unprecedented in San Francisco. Bar- rett became an immense favorite there ; but the cares of management were not favorable to his ambition to carve out an individual art career for himself ; so he sold out his share in the house to Mr. McCullough, and set forth on a starring tour in the summer of 1870, opening at Niblo's Garden, New York, then under the LAWRENCE BARRETT. 67 direction of Messrs. Jarrett and Palmer. Here was the real turning-point in his life, and from this time for- ward his fame steadily increased. In the course of this engagement at Niblo's, " Julius Caesar " was revived, with a strong cast, Mr. Barrett enacting Cassius; Mr. E. L. Davenport, Brutus ; Walter Montgomery, Antony ; and Mark Smith, Casca. It was in this tragedy that Mr. Barrett made the most pronounced hit of his career up to that time. In December of the same year he joined Edwin Booth at his new theatre on Twenty-third Street, and played opposite characters to him through an engagement of four months. On June 5, 1871, he played for the first time Harebell in "The Man O' Airlie," a character with which his name became brilliantly associated, and which he enacted for four weeks. In the same year he was invited to assume the management of the Varieties Theatre in New Orleans, a new building having been erected. He accepted ; and in December, 1871, the house was opened with Albery's " The Coquettes," with great success. Then came an offer from Edwin Booth for Mr. Barrett to appear as Cassius in a spec- tacular revival of "Julius Cxsar," which he did not think it wise to decline, lie returned to New York; and on Christmas night, 1871, he received a hearty welcome back to the stage, on which he had recently made so profound an impression. The play was given to immense audiences at Booth's Theatre for nearly three months; but Mr. Barrett did not remain after Feb. I/, 1872, being called to New Orleans to look after the affairs of the theatre there, which were in some confusion. He reappeared there March 4, 1872, as Hamlet. Owing to mismanagement in his absence, 68 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. he was obliged to assume the whole financial responsi- bility of the house, which he had on a five years' lease, and sunk $57,000, which he was unable to pay in full for many years. He returned as a star to the Cali- fornia Theatre in the summer of 1873, and played there an engagement whose success was without precedent on the Pacific coast. In 1873-1874 he starred through the country in the standard tragedies. In 1875 be- again enacted Cassius for nearly three months in an- other splendid revival of "Julius Caesar," in Booth's Theatre, New York. Mr. Barrett was now at the flood-tide of his profes- sional activity, and in the third and most important period of his artistic career. To chronicle his journey- ings would be merely to give a dry record of dates and cities. The leading events of his theatrical life, how- ever, must be mentioned. On Oct. n, 1877, he pro- duced in Cincinnati " A Counterfeit Presentment," by William Dean Howells, and in 1878, at the Park Theatre, New York, presented " Yorick's Love," adapted from the Spanish by the same eminent novel- ist. He produced " Pendragon " in Chicago, Dec. 5, 1881, and Sept. 14, 1882, brought out " Francesca da Rimini" at the Chestnut Street Theatre, Philadelphia; and when he acted the hunchback Lanciotto in New York next season, at the Star Theatre, it was for nine consecutive weeks. In March, 1884, he sailed for London to begin a seven weeks' engagement, April 14, at Henry Irving's Lyceum Theatre, Mr. Irving being in the United States on his first tour. His debut was made as Yorick, before a splendid audience ; but he failed to attract large audiences, though he won much praise LAWRENCE BARRETT. 69 and esteem from the more critical. He returned home to resume starring through the principal cities. Then came his professional union with Edwin Booth, which began at Buffalo, Sept. 12, 1887. This joining of interests by the two tragedians was received with un- bounded enthusiasm, and the season was one of enor- mous pecuniary profit. In the following season the two artists were not together, though Mr. Booth played under Barrett's management with Madame Modjeska. In that season Mr. Barrett produced " Ganelon," in Chicago ; but his tour was interrupted by bad health. In the summer of 1890 he rejoined Mr. Booth, both appearing in a round of the now familiar plays. His health again began to trouble him, but he still remained in the traces. On Monday night, March 16, 1891, the Booth-Barrett combination began the eleventh and last week of its engagement at the Broadway Theatre, New York. The play was " Richelieu." Mr. Booth was announced to appear in the title part, and Mr. Barrett as Adrian de Mauprat. Mr. Barrett could not be present, as he was suffering from what was be- lieved to be a slight cold. His part was assumed by another artist. On Tuesday evening the play was repeated, and Mr. Barrett was promptly at his post and without any sign of illness. On Wednesday even- ing he again appeared as De Mauprat ; but at t he- close of the third act he broke down, and another performer was called on to act the remaining scenes of the part. Mr. Barrett was taken home; and on Friday night, March 20, he succumbed to an attack of pneumonia, complicated by an old trouble in tin- glands of his throat. He was fifty-three years old at the time of his death. His remains were buried by 70 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. the side of those of his father in Cohasset Cemetery. He left behind him a wife with whom he had lived hap- pily for thirty-two years, and three daughters, Mary Agnes, now the Baroness von Roder ; Anna Gertrude, who is the wife of Joseph Anderson, a brother of Mary Anderson ; and Edith, who is now Mrs. Marshall Wil- liams. As an actor, Mr. Barrett had always to struggle against the disadvantages of a slight figure and a not very imposing presence. His voice was full and sono- rous, but was somewhat unmanageable in regard to variety in tone and expression. His eyes were large and piercing, and responded readily to the emotions he depicted ; but his powers of facial eloquence were not flexible. His enunciation was faultlessly clear and re- fined. He was a born elocutionist ; and so much stress did he lay on precision in pronunciation and in delib- eration in declamation, that the effect of sincerity in feeling was often absent from his acting, and an impres- sion of pedantic and unemotional dryness conveyed. He was at his best in scenes of fiery passion, of sup- pressed anger, and of cold and biting sarcasm. His pathos was not, as the rule, convincing ; though as Harebell, in "The Man O' Airlie," he reached a point of searching and impressive tenderness that found no such potent exemplification in any of his other assump- tions. He was a scholarly artist in the most refined sense of the word, and the dignity of his art was always uppermost in his mind ; but it is to be doubted if he was, on the whole, an actor whose methods ap- pealed strongly to the sympathies of his audiences. They admired and applauded the intellectuality that was clearly apparent in all that he did ; but their hearts LAWRENCE BARRETT. 7 I were rarely touched, especially in his performance of Shakespearian parts. Perhaps his most' perfect, as it was his most elabo- rate, assumption was Yorick. The growth of jealousy in the unhappy actor, from its dawning suspicions to its culmination in a frenzy of fury, was nobly depicted. Notably fine was his acting in the scene in which, by taunts and goads, contempt and cunning, Yorick at length discovers the cruel truth of which he is in search. Another brilliant effort was his Lanciotto in " Fran- cesca da Rimini." The stormy conflict of emotions that never cease in the heart of the misshapen sufferer, the heroism, the morbidness, the tender affection, the bitter hate, the smarting tinder the jesting taunts of the fool, the mingling of savagery and sweetness of nature, were all portrayed with power of the first order. Neither in this part nor in Yorick was there much opportunity for set and reflective elocution ; and the result was a freedom, a sweeping impulse, an effect of spontaneity in feeling and in action, in which Mr. Barrett's acting of less vehement parts was rarely pro- lific. He steadily ripened in style ; and it may be said justly of him, that the longer he acted the more he broadened and improved, and that he was never more worthy to wear the laurels for which he struggled so hard and constantly than lie was at the moment when death claimed him. MME. MODJESKA. BY CHARLES E. L. WINGATE. THERE was no sign of excitement, little sign of interest, about the California Theatre on the opening night of that week in the year 1877 when an unknown Polish actress made her American debut. Why should the public notice such an event ? What if the actress was heralded as a countess? There had been other titled players upon the stage. What if she was re- ported to have been the leading actress in the city of Warsaw ? Warsaw was a far-away place, with little of that influence for giving reputation which belongs to Paris or London. No wonder a mere sprinkling of listeners sat in the auditorium when the curtain rose upon the first act of " Adrienne Lecouvreur." No won- der the critics, as one of them has confessed, thought their duty would be adequately performed if they should stroll in for a few minutes after the play was well under way. The wonder came afterwards. Before this unknown, unsympathetic audience, an actress was to appear, and, with such command of the English language as but a few months study could give, was so ably to act the role of Adrienne as to draw enthusiastic applause at every scene, and a final burst of admiration that left its echoes ringing till the next 72 MME. MODJESKA. M.ME. MODJESKA. 73 morning and the next week. There were no more cold greetings when the curtain rose in after nights, and audiences and manager alike felt the cheering effect of the presence of genius. From that day Madame Modjeska's success upon the American stage was assured. Travelling as a star, at first with the poor company which the exigencies of the time made necessary, and afterwards with the admirable company which her own high artistic taste demanded, Madame Modjeska became recognized as a leading exponent of Shakespearian roles. It would not be hard to discover reasons for placing her in the first rank of classic actresses in America. We cannot har- monize our ideals with her ultra-refined Camille and her dainty Rosalind, but at the same time we must admit that this same refinement and this same daintiness in other roles have made them so winsome as fairly to command popular favor. Although the personality of Madame Modjeska is charming, with her graceful fig- ure, her beautiful face, and her sweetly modulated voice, yet this is not the attribute to which her success is due. The auditor has been drawn by that magnetism which comes from warm, enthusiastic absorption in the character of the moment, and from the consequent natural expression of all the passions of a woman's heart. Coldly studying the role of the night, one feels that each movement and inflection has been planned with the mind of a careful student ; but, even as he watches, his enforced coldness must disappear, and the subsequent warmth of sympathy conceals the conscien- tious actress, and reveals only the fictional woman, with all her sorrows and joys, loves and hates. Madame Modjeska's devotion to the master dramatist 74 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. of the English stage has been life-long. The daughter of a Polish mountaineer of cultivation, she passed her early years in Cracow, surrounded by the lasting influ- ences of artistic life. The name of Helena had been bestowed upon this youngest daughter of Michael Opido by reason of her small Greek head, suggesting the Greek name. Her mother was of a domestic nature ; and although two sons had taken up the actors career, and another had become a professor of music, it was not deemed best that Helena should follow her inclination for a theatrical life until she had completed her education at a convent. Twice only in her first fourteen years had Helena seen the inside of a play-house. Her first visit, at the age of seven, is said to have had such influence upon her imitative mind that, in view of the success of the air-cleaving nymph in the ballet, the young lady at home attempted, with the aid of heaped-up kettles and saucepans, to make the same essay into air only to fall into a disaster necessitating the speedy presence of the mother. But more serious troubles were at hand. Fire swept away the half of Cracow ; and in the flames disappeared not only the home of Opido's widow and children, but also the houses on which depended the family income. It was necessary then that all should earn their living ; and, after Helena's education was finished, she was allowed to take up with the stage. She saw "Hamlet" performed, and thenceforth there was no dramatist so dear to her as Shakespeare. Goethe and Schiller, Corneille and Moliere, were not neglected : but the English master claimed her chief CJ O adoration. To the Polish actress America owes much because MME. MODJESKA. 75 of this same devotion to the Shakespearian drama. Here Madame Modjeska has acted not only such parts as Juliet, Rosalind, and Viola, but also the rarely per- formed roles of Julia in "The Two Gentlemen of Verona," Imogen in "Cymbeline," and Isabella in "Measure for Measure." She has instructed as well as entertained, displaying the beauties of the rare gems as well as pouring new light upon the familiar jewels of the actor's crown. As Juliet to the Romeo of Edwin Booth, Madame Modjeska appeared at the final per- formance in the ill-fated Booth's Theatre of New York; and her address on the 3Oth of April, 1883, was the last speech uttered upon the stage where, fourteen years before, the Romeo and Juliet of Edwin Booth and Mary McVicker had seemed to inaugurate a glorious career. Another notable Shakespearian performance in which Madame Modjeska took leading part was the testimo- nial to Lester Wai lack at the Metropolitan Opera House in New York, May 21, 1888, when "Hamlet" was produced with Edwin Booth as Hamlet, Madame Modjeska as Ophelia, Lawrence Barrett as the Ghost; and Joseph Jefferson and W. J. Florence as the Grave- diggers. A little more than a year after this latter production, Madame Modjeska was associated with Mr. Booth in a starring tour, and was playing Portia, Bea- trice, Lady Macbeth, and Ophelia. This professional union with America's greatest actor is the more interesting from a fact but little known ; it was the culmination of one of Madame Modjeska's most ardent desires when she first entered upon her American career. While farming in California, before she made her essav on the San Francisco staire, she 76 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO DAY. saw Edwin Booth act, and, delighted with his dramatic skill, sought the privilege of playing Ophelia in her own tongue to his Hamlet. An interview ensued ; and the actress, whose powers, it must be remembered, were then totally unknown in this land, read so effec- tively scenes from various plays as to arouse the en- thusiasm of every auditor in the room. Mr. Booth could not spare time for the rehearsals needed for a union performance ; but he so earnestly urged the reader to study for the English-speaking stage, that she undertook the task. Eleven years later her early ambition of playing Ophelia to Booth's Hamlet was realized. But in this chat of her American successes we have neglected the story of her early struggles in her native land. For several years her path was far from easy. Married at the age of sixteen to her guardian, who, much older than the bride, had been selected by her mother, Helena became Madame Modrzejewska (a name contracted in America to Modjeska) ; and a year later, in 1861, made her debut upon the stage as one of a company of actors in Bochnia. Then at the head of a small troupe she travelled, amid most discouraging surroundings, through the towns of her native land, until finally, in 1865, she was accepted as an actress at the theatre in Cracow, and there at once secured recognition. Three years later, in September, 1868, she became the wife of Count Charles Bozenta Chla- powski, and that same autumn won at the Imperial Theatre in Warsaw a success which in another year was to lead to her engagement for life as leading lady of this foremost theatre of Poland. It was as Adrienne Lecouvreur that Madame Modjeska made her debut at MME. MODJESKA. 77 Warsaw, as well as in America. Both occasions were turning-points in her life. In Warsaw there was much contention over the "starring" scheme introduced by the management ; and had not Madame Modjeska, the new actress, proved herself a genius, she would have been overthrown by the opponents of the system, who cared little for her ambition at that time, and cared much for their cherished hobbies. She conquered active resistance at Warsaw, just as she conquered passive coldness in America nine years afterwards. Madame Modjeska's love of fatherland was ever ear- nest, and her marriage to Count Bozenta united con- genial patriots. He, a nephew of a leader of the Polish uprising of 1830, and a grandnephew of Gen- eral Chlapowski, aide-de-camp to Napoleon, was a vig- orous political writer for the periodical press until the peace of his family in Warsaw demanded that he throw aside the pen, with its magnetism towards the prison-cell, and engage in business life. She, imbued with most unselfish patriotism, refused an excellent offer from the Austrian stage at the time the Polish insurrection occurred, and struggled vigorously against the censorship of Russia over the Polish theatre. Even within a few years the Russian government felt so fear- ful of her influence that, in her summer tour through her native land, the officials prohibited the exhibition of her portraits in Warsaw, forbade the students from attending her performances in a body, and even closed the Polish theatre in St. Petersburg just before her opening night. It was in 1876 that Madame Modjeska came to America. She left Warsaw because of physical ex- haustion from constant work, and of mental weariness 78 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. at petty, but troublesome, attacks from envious players and writers. Although nominally on leave of absence, there was little expectation of return. Turning to free America, Modjeska and her husband, with other will- ing Polish exiles, sought a refuge in the far West. She would abandon the unsteady glitter of the foot- lights for the constant cheeriness of the warm sun ; would throw aside the constraint of theatrical artifice for the freedom of open nature ; would forget the thrilling woes of stage heroines for the peaceful hap- piness of real life. On a California ranch she and her friends would dream in the shady nooks of the pros- perity coming with their growing grain and fattening cattle. One element in this process of growing and fattening was, however, forgotten, that of work. But before long the poetry of this easy, careless life van- ished, and the career of the bread-winner opened clearer before them. There were milking and feeding, sewing and scrubbing, to be done, even in this supposed para- dise ; and when at last the enthusiastic woman realized that such a life was less useful and less profitable for one of her God-given talents, she turned again to her first love, the stage, and made that memorable and auspicious ttibut in San Francisco. Since then her name has been identified with the best work of the American stage. In 1880 she visited England, and there, too, obtained favor, although, as Madame Modjeska has herself humorously narrated, her name was so little known as to lead many people to regard the single word on the posters, "Modjeska," as the title of a new tooth-wash or cosmetic thus broadly advertised ! The list of her roles, aside from Shakespeare, would MME. MODJESKA. 79 include Julie de Mortimer in " Richelieu," Mary Stuart, Camille, Adrienne, Frou-Frou, Donna Diana, Odette, Andrea in " Prince Zillah," Nora in "A Doll's House," Louise Greville in "The Tragic Mask," Nadjesda, Marie de Verneuil in " Les Chouans," Countess von Lexon in "Daniela," and the title role in "Magda." The latter five she created upon the American stage. The re- fined temperament needful for adequate representatfon of poetic characters is hers by birth. Tragic force, and to a less extent nervous emotionalism, are within her essaying scope ; but the memory of play -goers holds more willingly the attractive picture of her vivacious, intellectual comedy, and her sensitive, appealing pathos. Few actors have possessed higher ideals than Ma- dame Modjeska, and the personal as well as profes- sional influence she has brought to bear upon the stage has ever been to its advantage. With a play even of the order of " Camille," Modjeska has endeavored, by her gentle, softening touch, to bring out a lesson of redeeming love in place of an ignoble expression of a reformed passion. Naturally this transposition of theatrical effect has been criticised as false sentimen- tality ; and Camille, under her interpretation, has been declared an idealization of vice, and therefore morbid perhaps even immoral through its tempting char- acter. Hut Modjeska, on her side, has held that the central idea of Camille is not the vulgar tale of a cocotte with a passing fancy for a handsome young fellow, but a touching expression of true reformation through love. This, she maintains, is the keynote of the character; and, basing her conception on this mo- tive, she sought to make of the play an illustration of the text, "Her sins which are many are forgiven, 8o FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO DAY. for she loved much," and an actual stage sermon in its portrayal of self-sacrifice. But not with this sentimental play will Mocljeska's future fame rest. The chief glories of her record are her careful, enterprising attempt to hold on the stage the best and rarest works of Shakespeare. It is true, she has made no one character essentially her own ; no strong and unique personality has been brought to bear upon a Portia or a Lady Macbeth to make the single impersonation outshine all the interpretations of the same character by other players, even of the same generation ; but all parts that Modjeska has essayed have been given with a womanly earnestness, an artis- tic sincerity, and an aesthetic beauty, that have made them warm, breathing characters of genuine interest and ennobling effect. Madame Modjeska's province is to charm rather than to inspire, to delight rather than to arouse enthusiasm ; and her Viola, her Juliet, her Imogen, all her amiable characters, will remain as cameos of art in the mind, with no loud coloring, no disturbing effects. Could the endowed theatre, which she has so long championed, be established, its influ- ence upon the future of the American stage would become great if at its head was an artiste of the character and skill of Madame Modjeska. DION BOUCICAULT. DION BOUCICAULT. BY VAN'CE THOMPSON-. THE drama of thirty years ago seems more remote and more unreal than that of Shakespeare's day. Very little of it holds the stage. Indeed, it may be said that, bar a few sporadic revivals, the plays of Robertson, Taylor, and Boucicault are permanently out of the bill. The reason is not far to seek. They are out of touch with the times ; they are hopelessly archaic. And yet in his own day Boucicault was con- sidered the apostle of realism on the stage ! To my mind the chief defect of the Boucicault drama lies here : there is no characterization and only the most elementary psychology. If there is in the long series of Boucicault plays one character which is at once reasonable and possible, I have yet to find it. Sometimes the characters are unnatural because they are the outcome of a false morality, sometimes because they proceed from a false art. In the Irish plays they are impossible developments of dramatic motives. But whatever the reason is, and it matters little, the truth remains that Boucicault never created a reasonable hu- man figure. In spite of this, -or by reason of this, he was the most popular playwright of his day. He raised playwrighting to the dignity of a sport. 8 1 82 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO DAY. It should be assumed it should be remembered rather that there are two kinds of art, which will no more mix than oil and water. It used to be the fashion to speak of high art and low art. The terms are not amiss. Now, the great masterpieces of high art have never been popular. A Madonna by Botticelli, a portrait by Franz Hals, has never interested the people. It does not concern itself with the mortuary sculpture of Michelangelo or the great works of liter- ature. And of the drama this is equally true. The great play is not popular ; it never has been popular. One has it on excellent authority that what pleased the audiences of the Globe Theatre was the grossness, and not the poetry, in Shakespeare's plays ; the melodrama, and not the psychology. And neither Shakespeare, nor any other writer of the first class, ever created a popular type. The tenth-rate men, the devisers of " low art," to use the old terminology, have created all the popular types in the drama, in fiction, in " illustration," in balladry, and in music. Who will sing a paean for the tenth-rate men ? They deserve statues and biographies. They have given the world almost everything it really loves. Boucicault created the popular type of the stage Irishman. Conn the Shaughraun is a creation ; Myles- na-Coppaleen is a creation. Perhaps on the day of Final Summing-Up, this may be accounted to him for a sort of righteousness. These ranting, vagrom Irish- men of his have made for the gayety of nations and gayety is a rare and precious quality. Of all the spurious types which have got into fiction, none is quite so unreal as that of the merry, honest, humorous, and lovable Irish peasant. Although Lever DION BOUCICAULT. 83 and Lover antedated him, it was unquestionably Bouci- cault who gave vitality to these comic-opera peasants. The Irish themselves, who are credulous, have come to believe in the reality of these types ; and as you journey through Ireland you will meet at any cross-roads pinch- beck imitations of Conn the Shaughraun, or Bourke's O'Shanahan Dhu. " Aisy in love and divarshun?" These poor wretches, wheedling for pennies, expert in mendacity and mendicity. No, the peasant's life is hard the world over ; in no land is it harder than in Ireland. Now, poverty does not breed virtue. It is the begetter of lies and cowardice, of shuffling anil truckling and blarneying, of bullying and crime. And the Irish peasant has all the vices of his condition For this reality, at once sad and dingy, Boucicault sub- stituted the shining and salutary sham of the dare-devil, sentimental and witty Conn. This, surely, should be accounted to him for a sort of righteousness. He has not only created a popular type ; he has wrought a miracle, and created a tolerable Irish peasant. And how long will this type persist ? I do not see why one should set a limit. There is vitality still in the Dibdin sailor-lad, with his "heave-ho! me hearty ;" and Boucicault's Irishman bids fair to live as long. But were I asked which of Boucicault's plays will live into the next century, I should bite my thumb in perplexity. The ultimate test of a drama is the text. When all is swept away, the seductions of the players and the complicity of contemporaries, there remains only the text, plain and inflexible, making for immortal- ity or derision. It is impossible not to recogni/e tin- fact that Boucicault's plays differ from tin- dramatic forms which endure for generations, independent of 84 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO DAY. the modes of the hour and the assistance of the actors. A fair measure of success attended Mr. Aubrey Bouci- cault's recent revival of the " Colleen Bawn ; " but here, again, the play was not the thing. One's interest was in the young actor, an accomplice in his father's success. I think one may safely say that the play -goers do not care tuppence for the Boucicault drama. On the other hand, the players are loath to let it die. In other words, they are actor's plays, media for the exercise of virtnositc, opportunities for technical display. You remember Lady Gay Spanker's famous " steeple-chase speech " in " London Assurance ; " this is the sort of thing the actress will not willingly let die. " London Assurance " was Boucicault's first play ; and in accounting for its longevity, one finds, also, an expla- nation of the fact that while Robertson, Reade, and Taylor are permanently out of the bill, Boucicault is still played. I remember Miss Rose Coghlan's revi- val of " London Assurance " at the Star Theatre, New York, in 1894. Upon my word, though I went to the theatre in the dress usually worn by men who go abroad in the evening, I felt I should have donned a high- waisted blue coat, with brass buttons, strapped trousers, a canary waistcoat, and a threefold stock. It was pro- duced in 1841 ; and Boucicault, then nineteen years of age, witnessed the triumph of his play from a stage- box of the Covent Garden Theatre. It was immensely popular in those days of immense petticoats and im- mense stocks. And this popularity has persisted feebly, but unbrokenly, for half a century. I do not think audiences clamor for it. It is not like that much advertised nostrum for which babies cry. Its vitality, you and I will agree, is due to the players and the DION BOUCICAUI.T. 85 players alone ; to Mr. Charles Wyndham, who is an ideal Cool, and Miss Coghlan, the best Lady Spanker of this generation. "London Assurance" is like those twiddling, flamboyant concertos of Bruch, which violin- ists preserve because they afford chances for displaying I'irtnositt. You have heard that strenuous Belgian, Ysaye, play the second Bruch concerto ? Then you know just what I mean. You and I, mooning in our orchestra chairs, cared not tuppence for the subject matter of that blessed piece. But Ysaye's technical execution, his mastership, the tremendously effective way in which he got over those harmonic hurdles ah ! this filled us with serene, aesthetic satisfaction. And " London Assurance " ? It is the same thing. One's interest is in such technical matters as the "business" between Cool and Meddle; or Grace Hark- away's ability to carry her languishing her Lydia Languishing rhapsodies. For instance, you watch for such delicious absurdities as this : " I love to watch the first tear that glistens in ihe opening eye of morning, the silent song that flowers breathe, the thrilling choir of the woodland minstrels, to which the modest brook trickles applause: these, swelling out the sweetest chord of sweet creation's matins, seem to pour some soft and merry tale into the daylight's ear, as if the waking world had dreamed a happy thing, and now smiled o'er the telling of it." These desperately foolish passages tempt the actress to-day as they tempted her long ago. The Boucicault comedy persists simply because it drools with rhetoric which pleases the players. But the old order changeth. Th mummers who were adept in artificial comedy are dying out. I he new histrionic school has other aims and other ideals. 86 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO DAY. It needs no hardy prophet to foretell the time when Boucicault's plays shall have ceased to please even the players. Then they will be merely documents, to which the curious student of the drama will turn in- differently. Had it not been for the complicity of the players they would have been discarded long ago. The public has always been easily cozened in plays. It has rarely praised the praiseworthy, if one is to believe the men of Serious Intellect. In praising Bou- cicault, however, I think it did well. He gave his age what it wanted, and played no inconsiderable part in the development of the modern drama. He was a dramaturgical matador. He pricked many of the elab- orate stage conventions of his time. In so far as it lay in a tenth-rate man, he was original. He was quite innocent of culture ; but he had imagination, and he knew the stage. He was ingenious, inventive, and industrious amazingly, monstrously industrious. He wrote or adapted an almost incredible number of plays. His Irish melodramas have overshadowed his five-act comedies and tragic plays, and yet these too had their time of popularity. Who remembers them now ? " Old Heads and Young Hearts," "The School for Scheming," "The Irish Heiress," "Love in a Maze," "The Willow Copse," "The Corsican Brothers," "Faust and Marguerite," "Used Up," "The Octo- roon," "The Streets of London," " After Dark," "The Long Strike," "Flying Scud," "Night and Morning," they are dead as Garrick's prologues or Gibber's plays. They served their purpose ; they amused the spectators, and that, as Aristotle insisted, is the true aim of the drama. The Boucicault drama is dead ; any discussion of it is in the nature of an autopsy. DION BOUCICAULT. 87 Its most notable quality was its gayety its fine animal spirits. It was merry and clean. To us the gayety of " Arrah Na-Pogue " seems rather threadbare ; but even the shabbiest and most decrepit spirit of mirth should be reverently treated in these days. Gayety is infinitely more precious than all the " profundity " and "bitterness" and " modernity " of ginger-bread philoso- phers like Pinero and Grundy and Jones, and infinitely more rare. It is only decent that we should thank Boucicault for the laughter which arrided our fathers, even though laughter be not hereditary. There are few facts of interest in Boucicault's biogra- phy. He was born in Dublin in 1822, Christmas day, I believe, the youngest son of Samuel Bouci- cault, a merchant. He was a nephew of George Dar- ley, the dramatist, and was named after Dr. Dionysius Lardner, the philologist and pamphleteer. A success- ful playwright at nineteen, he did not know failure until old age came upon him. In 1853 he married Agnes Robertson, and came to the United States. Here he turned actor, playing Irish characters with great success. He went back to London in 1860. In his most prosperous period the seventies he was manager and lessee of Covent Garden Theatre. Affairs did not go well with him in later years. He descended to what Epictetus called the " shameful necessity of teaching the young." He di-jd in Ne\v York in 1890. There have been Irish dramatists by the score, O'Keefe, O'Hara, Kelly, O'Brien, Kenney. Only two attained eminence. One was Richard Brinsley Sheri, dan, who never wrote an Irish play. The other was Dionysius Lardner Boucicault. CLARA MORRIS. BY WlLLARI) HOI.COMB. SHALL a player merely act, or really feel his part ? which is truer to art and nature? This is a question which has been disputed by critics as well as actors from the time Diderot took David Garrick to task for his "Treatise on the Art of Playing'," published in 1754, replying in the famous " Paradox of Acting," down to the recent discussion between Henry Irving' and Coquelin ainc, representing the English and French schools respectively ; and still it is as far from being settled as when first begun. All authorities recognize that, as William of Avon tersely put it : " The aim of acting is and ever shall be, To hold, as 't were, the mirror up to Nature;" but the method thereof must be determined by each individual player. Shall he be the thing he seems for the time being, or merely simulate so closely that the beholder believes him to be it ? The living flame, which feeds on fuel and air, and the burning-glass, which gathers and concentrates the sun's rays, achieve the same effect. But the glass is unconsumed, scarcely more than warmed, by the in- tense heat it transfers, whereas the living fire con- CLARA MORRIS. (From an early photograph.) CLARA MORRIS. 89 sumcs all it touches, and, when there is nothing left to feed upon, dies out. Such must be the fate of the player who feels too in- tensely the flame of passion ; self-consumed, his power must die. But the artist who, like the burning-glass, gathers from nature's inexhaustible source the vital rays, reflecting them with conscious art, and transmit- ting them to his audience, remains clear and peren- nially powerful to the end. Such players never lag superfluous. Clara Morris is the living example of one side of Diderot's argument ; she illustrates extreme sensibility. Bernhardt is her opposite, cold, calculating, self-con- scious art. But Bernhardt stills plays Camille with all her former finesse, yea, even with added art, while Clara Morris only occasionally realizes her former greatness. Sometimes, as she breathes upon the ashes of the past, the old flame blazes up again in all its fierce, fascinating intensity, and for a brief scene she is Camille ; then it dies out, and she is only a mediocre actress again. It is the difference between natural talent unrestrained, and technique developed to abso- lute art. It is impossible to consider Clara Morris in a coldly critical light, for her art will not withstand it. Her audience must be carried with her on the wave of emo- tion, or left stranded and disgusted on the beach. The man who merely looks on and listens is offended by her unconventionality, her unrestrained, almost hysteri- cal emotion. She weeps realistic tears, and inciden- tally applies her pocket-handkerchief to other very proper but unpoetic uses incident to undue excitation of the lachrymal glands. 9O FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. Her peculiar nasal intonation strikes jarringly on the unsympathetic ear, and her meagre gesticulation soon becomes stereotyped and tiresome. Clara Mor- ris, through the cold, mechanical medium of the pho- nograph and kinetoscope, would be grotesque, almost ludicrous. In short, the actress cannot be differen- tiated from the character she is assuming for the time being. She is either Camille with her woes, Cora with her wrongs, Odette with her repentance, or a mere acting automaton. Yet this is the woman who, with her realistic inter- pretation of Camille, has moved to tears more Camilles of real life than ever thronged to the matinees of any other American actress. It may not have been art ; but it contained that touch of truth which appealed to their sin-sodden souls, and brought the salt tears tumbling down their painted cheeks. Maudlin tears these may have been, and half an hour later these same Camilles probably laughed at themselves in their mirrors, as they applied more powder to efface the stains ; but they were the tribute of sincerity, the spontaneous echo of powerful emotion. Clara Morris's career is in itself a drama. Born Morrison, a Canadian by nativity, but with the warm Celtic blood coursing through her fragile frame, she seemed fitted for almost any other walk in life than the stage. She might have been a religieuse, supplement- ing her slender strength with the fierce ardor of devo- tion and inspired imagination, until by her services for man and the Master she had won a saint's halo. She might have been merely a plain housewife, misunder- stood and unappreciated by her associates, smothering her aspirations within her own heart, and slowly con- CLARA MORRIS. 9! sumed by their inward fire, until death brought long- desired relief. She had imagination enough for a writer ; but it was interpretative rather than creative, and she scorned that discipline and restraint prerequisite to the best expression of thought. Instead, she chose the stage, and with perseverance that bespoke the determined spirit within her weakly little body, fought it through for long, weary years of drudgery, physical suffering, and lack of recognition. But she felt within her that spark of genius which, when eventually given vent, blazed forth into a flame that for more than a decade made her America's most famous emotional actress. When only seventeen she joined John Kllsler's stock company in Cleveland, Ohio, playing maid-servant and similar minor parts which fall to the lot of young ac- tresses. She was painstaking, studious, and reliable ; but no one ever recognized in her the possibilities of more than an ordinary utility player. It happened that in 1870 Augustin Daly, always on the outlook for fresh talent, required some young women at his Fifth Avenue Theatre, and wrote Mr. Ellslcr. Mr. Daly did not require much, only conscientious and fairly talented girls, who knew enough to make an entrance and exit, probably preferring to train them after his own methods. Clara Morris being the only one available in his company, Mr. Kllsler sent her to New York. At this time Clara Morris was described as a slim, pale, quiet little creature ; and, needless to say, she was almost lost in the Fifth Avenue Company, then full of talent since celebrated. Mr. Daly had in re- hearsal an adaptation of Wilkie Collins's " Man and 92 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. Wife," in which Miss Morris was given a small part, and Agnes Ethel, the leading lady, was cast for Anne Sylvester, an emotional part that called for the highest powers. Just then Miss Ethel sprained her ankle, with prospects of being laid up for a month. Mr. Daly was deeply troubled ; for his preparations had been extensive, and he disliked to disappoint the public. In his company was Fanny Davenport, but she failed to show the proper spirit in the part. Kate Claxton and Linda Dietz were tried, but neither suited Mr. Daly. Then by inspiration, or in despair, he gave the part, with a few brief instructions, to little Morris, greatly to her delight, but to the undisguised disgust of the older members of the company. But though others were openly surprised and doubt- ful, she felt that her opportunity had come. Hurrying home to her mother with her precious manuscript, she sat up all night studying. Next morning at rehearsal she was letter perfect, and Mr. Daly was much pleased at her industry and aptness. But the "little pale girl," as he called her, refused to act at rehearsals. With the exception of an occasional emphatic speech, he could get nothing out of her to indicate that she would do more than recite the part poll-parrot wise. Still the spirit of prophecy or pertinacity determined him to try her. The night of the opening came, and the house was sold out. All the other players were ready, but it was whispered that little Morris was ill. John Norton, the actor and manager, an old friend of the family, who had known her in Cleveland, found her in bed, feverish with excitement, and suffering from the spinal affection which came near to ending her life later on. He cheered and CLARA MORRIS. 93 encouraged her as best he could, and volunteered to accompany her to the theatre. Miss Morris insisted on walking, to work off her nervousness ; but every now and then she was obliged to sit down on some convenient doorstep to rest and cry a bit. Mr. Daly apologized before the curtain for Miss Ethel's non-appearance, and stated that Miss Morris would play the part, plainly indicating his doubt as to the outcome. When the curtain rose all the old Daly favorites, James Lewis, D. H. Harkins, Mrs. Gilbert, Kate Claxton, Linda Dietz, etc., were warmly wel- comed ; but nobody in the audience seemed to know the pale little creature who remained in the background during most of the first act, until at the climax she startled everybody with aVesuvian outburst of passion. They were watching for her when the curtain rose again ; and during the second act she developed such intensity of power, sincerity of purpose, fury ex- pressed in choking passion, and tenderness interpreted through streaming tears, that half the audience wept with her. After that all were under the spell of the little pale woman, and Clara Morris was fatuous. Of her later triumphs as Cora, Miss Multon, Odette, and Camille, little need be said, as they still live in the public memory. For fully a decade Miss Morris has been the Camille of the American stage ; and although rivals of newer schools are crowding her from the boards, she still remains the representative of the realistic Marguerite Gautier. MR. AND MRS. W. J. FLORENCE. BY ALBERT ELLERY BERG. WILLIAM JERMYN FLORENCE was born in Albany, N.Y., on July 26, 1831. He was of Irish descent, and his real name was not Florence, but Conlin. His father, who was an Irishman of the old school of patriots, died when William was fifteen years of age; and that father's death required the boy to con- tribute to the support of the family. He first began to make a living by working at a very small salary in a newspaper office in Albany. Then he went to New York, where he was first employed as assistant book- keeper in a large mercantile establishment, and after- wards in a type manufacturing concern. His inborn dramatic instinct soon led him to join the James E. Murdoch Dramatic Association, which, although then in its infancy, was famous locally, and had produced many good actors. In Florence's day it had about two hundred members, most of them talented amateurs. Florence had, as a boy, acquired some note for his powers of mimicry. In the shop his associates had but to start whistling a jig, a reel, or a clog, and the first foot to patter in response was young Conlin's. He could reproduce the Irish brogue, the negro twang, and the Dutch guttural, with equal facility. 94 W J. FLORENCE. MR. A^D MRS. \V. J. FLORENCE. 95 There is some difference of opinion as to the date of his first appearance on the professional stage. As early as December, 1849, he made what may be re- garded as his debut, at the old Bowery Theatre, in "Evadne." He had but one line to speak, consisting of two words, "Hold off." According to other ac- counts, he made his first attempt on the professional stage at the Richmond Hill Theatre of Richmond, Va., on Dec. 6, 1849, as Peter in " The Stranger." The following year he played the part of Macduff to Booth's Macbeth, at Providence, R.I., but soon took to Irish characters at Brougham's Lyceum, and made a great hit in that line of parts. He had previously appeared, on May 13, 1850, as Hallagon, in Brougham's piece called " Home," at Niblo's, which was then under the management of William Chippendale and John Brougham. Among his professional associates at Niblo's were Mary Taylor, Mrs. Vernon, John Sefton, Fanny Wallack, Charlotte Cushman, and William Burton. Brougham afterwards took a new theatre at Broadway and Broom Street, which he called Brougham's Lyceum. This was opened on Dec. 23, 1850; and on that night Florence appeared in the farce called "The Light Guard and Woman's Rights." It was towards the end of this season, in the spring of 1851, that Florence made his first great hit. The piece was called, " A Row at the Lyceum," and was one of Brougham's jokes. The stage was shown with- out any scenery, so ns to represent a rehearsal. The actors were in their every-day clothes, and they were styled on the programme simply by their own names, Florence playing the fire laddie. He was not on the 96 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. stage, but in the auditorium. He wore a white spike hat. In the middle of the performance he began to talk to the actors on the stage. Great commotion en- sued in the theatre, and it was some time before the joke dawned on the audience. The year following Florence joined Marshall's Com- pany at the old Broadway Theatre, appearing on Aug. 30, 1852, as Lord Tinsel in "The Hunchback." Dur- ing this engagement he supported the principal stars of that day in tragedy, comedy, and farce. Among them were Edwin Forrest, Mrs. Mowatt, and Mr. and Mrs. Barney Williams. On New Year's Day, 1853, Florence married Mrs. Littell, a danscnsc whose maiden name was Malvina Pray, and who was a sister of Mrs. Barney Williams. The Pray sisters were graceful dancers, and were much liked in- soubrette parts. Malvina had first married Joseph Littell, an old-time actor. Another sister of Malvina, who was also a dancer, married Mr. George F. Browne. Barney Williams and his wife were at that time in the height of their success, as Irish boy and Yankee girl delineators. Mr. and Mrs. Florence, be- lieving that the world was wide enough for another team of that kind, decided to adopt the same line, an experiment which proved eminently successful. In an interview in 1877, Florence told how he came to adopt this line of work. After telling all about "The Row at the Lyceum," he says, "It was during this engagement that I first met Mrs. Florence. She was then a danscnsc; for it was customary in those days to make use of songs and the 'light fantastic' between the plays. Her name was Malvina; and she was considered the best of American dancers and sou- MR. AND MRS. W. J. FLORENCE. 97 brettes of the period, among whom may be enumerated Mary Gannon, Julia Turnbull, Mary Ann Lee, Annie Walters (afterwards the wife of George Jordan), and others. Wallack then took the theatre. Mv wife J remained ; but I went to play on Broadway, near the corner of Anthony (now Worth) Street. I played in almost everything. I was watching almost jealously the progress of Mr. and Mrs. Barney Williams, and felt the ability to do as well. After consultation with Mrs. Florence, we determined to enter the same field. We started at the National Theatre in Chatham Street. Mrs. Florence introduced the Yankee girl ; and it was an immense hit, especially in England, where we played at the Drury Lane Theatre in 1856 for a long time." The Chatham Street engagement referred to by Mr. Florence was where he and his wife opened their star- ring tour on June 19, 1853. It was then known as Purdy's National Theatre. At that time Mr. Florence wrote several plays upon Irish and Yankee subjects. He also composed many songs of a popular character, one of which, called " Bobbing Around," had a large sale. These songs were sung by his wife, to the great delight of the audiences of that day. The Irish plays made considerable money for the Florences. It was only occasionally that they resorted to burlesque and melodrama. One of the most popular of these Irish dramas was " The Irish Emigrant," in which the Florences frequently appeared at the old Winter Gar- den. Florence also gave a very good character sketch of Handy Andy, and appeared in a long line of Hiber- nian characters that had been in the rfycrtoirc of Ty- rone Power and old John Drew. Among the best burlesques of Florence's rfycrtoirc were " Era Diavolo," 98 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. " Beppo," " Lalla Rookh," " The Lady of Lyons," and " The Colleen Bawn." He was to some extent the pioneer in this class of burlesque on the American stage. The Florences filled engagements at the outset of their starring tour in all the principal cities of the United' States, and were everywhere well received. Among the early plays written by Mr. Florence for these appearances were "The Irish Princess," "O'Neil the Great," "The Sicilian Bride," "Woman's Wrong," " Eva," and " The Drunkard's Doom." On April 2, 1856, the Florences sailed for England, and appeared in London at the Drury Lane Theatre for fifty nights to crowded houses. The performance of the Yankee girl by Mrs. Florence roused great en- thusiasm ; for it was a new type to English audiences, and Mrs. Florence was one of the first American comediennes to appear on the English stage. After the London engagement was finished, the Florences appeared at Manchester, Edinburgh, Glasgow, Belfast, Dublin, and other cities, where they became universal favorites. Their songs were sung and whistled all over the United Kingdom at that time. The foreign tour proved, according to Mr. Florence's own statement, a great benefit to them on their return to the United States, where they opened their second starring tour with pronounced artistic and pecuniary success. Their first appearance on their return to this country was at Burton's new theatre, where they played three weeks to large audiences in "The Irish Emigrant," " The Yankee Housekeeper," and " The Lesson for Husbands." On July 5, 1858, the Florences opened at Wallack's MR. AND MRS. W. J. FLORENCE. 99 old theatre for the summer season, during which they produced a number of burlesques. On June 13, 1859, they began a second season at the same house ; and on the 1 8th of that month they produced the bur- lesque of " Lalla Rookh," which ran successfully to the end of their term, Aug. 20. They returned to this theatre on May 25, 1860, for a run of " Lalla Rookh." Meanwhile Mr. Florence had purchased the costumes which the late W. E. Burton had worn as Timothy Toodle and Captain Cuttle. The season closed on Aug. 25. From June 10, 1862, until Sept. 6 of the same year, the Florences occupied Wallack's new theatre, corner of Thirteenth Street and Broadway, later known as the Star. Their most noticeable pro- ductions there were a farce called " Orange Blossoms," acted for the first time July 2, and a dramatization by John Brougham of " Dombey and Son " (with Florence as Captain Cuttle, and Mrs. Florence as Susan Nipper), which they brought out on July 7. In the part of Cap- tain Cuttle, Florence made one of his most brilliant hits, and many of the critics considered it the best of all his creations. Mr. Florence himself declared that Captain Cuttle and Bob Brierly were his favorite char- acters. His acting of Captain Cuttle is said to have been as good as that of his predecessor, William Bur- ton, who was very famous in the part in his day. The burlesque, Eily O'Connor, by the late II. J. Byron, was produced by the Florences for the first time in this country, at Wallack's, on Aug. 6. It was dur- ing the summer of 1862 that the Florences paid their second visit to England, where they performed for about three months. Afu-r their return, they began an engagement at the Winter Garden Theatre, on IOO FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. Nov. 2, appearing in "Handy Andy," "Mischievous Annie," and "The Returned Volunteer." On Nov. 9 they produced "Kathleen Mavourneen," which ran for two weeks. During his second visit to England, Mr. Florence had seen Henry Neville's striking personation of Bob Brierly in " The Ticket-of-Leave Man," and, deeming the character suitable for himself, purchased a few printed copies, as the piece was published. He accordingly brought out the play for the first time in America, on Nov. 30, 1863. It ran until March 26, 1864, one hundred and twenty-five performances in all. He made a great hit as Bob Brierly, which was one of his best characters, and which he is said to have acted during his career fifteen hundred times. It was this character that re-established his reputation as an actor of serious parts. He gave a capital delinea- tion of the trials of the simple Yorkshire lad, who fell into bad company and suffered for it. Mrs. Florence personated with humorous effect the good-hearted dan- sense, Emily Evremonde. During his third visit to England, Florence secured a copy of T. W. Robertson's " Caste," which he after- wards professed to have written down from memory. The play was produced at Wallack's in August, 1867, but had to be withdrawn on Aug. 31, on account of a star engagement the Florences had to fill else- where. This production led to a famous lawsuit. Lester Wallack had purchased from Mr. and Mrs. Bancroft, the managers of the Prince of Wales Theatre in London, the American rights to " Caste." Mr. Florence maintained that he had seen the play many times in London, which enabled him to write down the text and stage business from memory. At that time MR. AND MRS. \V. J. FLORENCE. IOI the Supreme Court had not established the precedent, that the American rights to a foreign play were pro- tected by law. Consequently, as there was no inter- national copyright, and there was no evidence that Mr. Florence had procured the play in an unlawful manner, the courts upheld him, and Mr. Wallack lost the suit. The Florences made quite a neat little sum out of " Caste," and fully deserved it from the excellence of their performance. Florence acted the part of D'Al- roy ; and Mrs. Florence assumed the role of Polly Eccles, a part for which she was highly praised by the critics. Owen Marlowe was cast for Hawtree, Mrs. Chanfrau for Esther, and Mrs. G. II. Gilbert for the Marquise St. Maur. It is questionable, however, whether it was not a breach of professional etiquette for Mr. Florence to produce the piece, considering Mr. Wallack's prior claim. On Oct. 20, 1867, the Florences brought out at Wal- lack's an Irish drama entitled " Inshavogue." Mr. Florence began another engagement at this house on Sept. 28, 1868, when, as a result of his summer visit to England, he produced a translation of the French play " L'Abime," the plot of which was derived from the Christmas story called " No Thoroughfare," by Charles Dickens and Wilkie Collins. The portrayal of Obenreizer was a remarkable characterization of artistic villany. It was this personation that placed Mr. Florence in the front rank of American actors. On Feb. I, 1869, the Florences began an engage- ment at Wood's Museum, which closed on March 27. They presented there another burlesque, and revivals of "The Tickct-of-Leave Man" and "The Colleen Hawn." On Oct. 2, 1871, they produced "Eileen Oge," IO2 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. an Irish drama by Edwin Falkener, at the Grand Opera House, New York. This was a piece they had secured during a summer visit abroad. It ran for six weeks, and the scenery of the production was consid- ered quite elaborate at the time. The greatest money success of the Florences, " The Mighty Dollar," was originally produced on Sept. 6, 1875, at the Park Theatre, New York. The play was written for them by Benjamin E. Woolf, the dra- matic critic of the Saturday Evening Gazette of Bos- ton. Although the piece was at first condemned by the critics, it ran for many nights, and afterward was played with great success for a dozen years through- out the country. The cast, besides Mr. and Mrs. Florence, contained Frank Weston, W. J. Ferguson, E. M. Holland, W. R. Floyd, W. J. Carroll, J. W. Shan- non, W. A. Whitecar, C. E. Edwin, lone Burke, Ethel Thornton, and Josephine Baker. Mr. Florence played the part of Hon. Bardwell Slote ; while Mrs. Florence impersonated Mrs. Gilflory, the confiding widow, with a good heart and resplendent vocabulary. The Bard- well Slote of Florence, although necessarily somewhat of a caricature owing to the dramatic material pro- vided by the author, was one of the best humorous portrayals of a certain type of American character that has ever been seen on our stage. The popularity of this piece was remarkable, and the Florences are said to have appeared in it more than two thousand five hundred times. It is related that the play came to be written in the following manner : Mrs. Florence while abroad was constantly amused at the French phrases which wealthy but uneducated American women would use. She MR. AND MRS. W. J. FLORENCE. 103 thought that it would be a good idea to transfer one of these persons to the mimic stage. Mr. Florence had also in mind a character suited to himself ; namely, that of a good-humored but not over-scrupu- lous Western lawyer. The Florences accordingly went to Ben Woolf, and had him write a play with these two characters as the prominent personages. The piece was originally called "The Almighty Dollar," and was subsequently changed to "The Mighty Dol- lar," in order to avoid criticism by religious people. It enjoyed a run of one hundred nights on its first pro- duction in New York, and subsequently ran there for five months in 1876. In 1880 the piece was presented at the London Gaiety Theatre, under the Ilollingshead management ; but the English audiences did not under- stand the satire or the fun embodied in the types personated by Mr. and Mrs. Florence. In 1883 the Florences produced in Philadelphia the piece called "Facts, or His Little Hatchet," which was written for them by George II. Jessop. The title of the play was subsequently changed to that of " Our Governor." Mr. Florence appeared as Pinto Perkins, a politician who could tell amusing lies. After that Florence essayed a piece called " Our German Profes- sor," by B. 1C. Woolf, in which he depicted some of the trials of an amatory Teutonic scholar. His broken English dialect in this rdlc was very amusing. In March, 1889, Mr. and Mrs. Florence announced their retirement from the stage as joint stars. Mrs. Florence started on a European tour, and after her return settled down in New York. Mr. Florence con- cluded then, what had long been talked of; to wit, a Jefferson-Florence combination; and on Oct. 15, 104 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO DAY. 1889, William J. Florence and Joseph Jefferson made their joint appearance at the New York Star Theatre in "The Rivals;" Jefferson taking the part of Bob Acres, and Florence Sir Lucius O'Trigger. Mrs. John Drew was engaged for the part of Mrs. Malaprop. The organization met with an enthusiastic reception from the start, and Florence was no small factor of its success. Besides Sir Lucius O'Trigger, he won enco- miums from the critics by his excellent and lifelike embodiment of Zekiel Homespun in " The Heir at Law." He was last seen in New York, at the Garden Theatre, on Oct. 24, 1891. While filling an engagement in Philadelphia in the early part of November, Mr. Florence complained of not feeling well, but continued to perform regularly. On Saturday evening, Nov. 14, after having played the part of Zekiel Homespun at the Arch-street Theatre, he gave a supper party at the Continental Hotel to Mr. and Mrs. Kendal. Soon after the close of the festivities he was taken ill, and physicians were called in. He had congestion of the lungs ; and after danger from that cause had practically ceased, the patient was too weak to rally. His death, which oc- curred in Philadelphia on Thursday, Nov. 18, at 8.30 P.M., was attributed to heart failure. His sister-in-law Mrs. Barney Williams, his sister Mrs. Norman Ward of Washington, and Dr. Patrick Donnellan were with him when he passed away. Mrs. Florence was in Eng- land at the time ; and the news of her husband's death was cabled to her, asking her desires with regard to the funeral arrangements. Florence's brother, Police Inspector Conlin, who had returned to New York the day previous, not expecting the crisis to come so soon, MR. AND MRS. W. J. FLORENCE. 105 returned at once to Philadelphia to take charge of the body. In accordance with the wishes of Mrs. Florence the funeral ceremony took place in New York, at St. Agnes's Roman Catholic Church, on Monday, Nov. 23. The church was rilled with the friends and ad- mirers of the dead comedian. The pall bearers were Edwin Booth, A. M. Palmer, John G. Heckscher, Wil- liam Winter, C. N. Vilas, C. P. Fearing, Clayton McMichael, and John Russell Young. At the time of his death Mr. Florence was playing his last season with Joseph Jefferson. He had engaged a manager and laid out his plans for a starring tour during 1892-1893. W. J. Florence was the eldest of five brothers and two sisters. He left no children. By her first hus- band Mrs. Florence had a daughter, the actress known as Josephine Shepherd, who made her professional debut with Lotta in 1884. Several years ago Mrs. Florence became the wife of Howard Coveney. Through the death of William J. Florence the Amer- ican stage lost one of its foremost comedians. We have had few actors who approached him in humorous unction and inherent drollery. His characterizations were noted for their originality, racincss, and truth to nature. His geniality was not merely assumed for mimic purposes. He was one of the most lovable of men in real life, a good fellow in the full meaning of that term. Among his numerous accomplishments was the gift of telling a rattling good story ; and he was fond of a practical joke providing it was harmless. Florence and the elder Sothern were responsible for innumerable pranks. IO6 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO DAY. One day Sothern had invited Lord Fitzroy, the son of the Duke of Beaufort, to a breakfast. While the host was out of the room, Florence persuaded Fitzroy that his health demanded that he should draw himself up and down on the door. Then Florence ran down and told Sothern that Fitzroy was insane, and imagined that Florence wanted to murder him, and that he was trying to crawl out of the transom. Whereat Sothern rushed up, and with great concern attempted to pacify the lordling. There was no more enthusiastic angler in the country than Mr. Florence ; and he had a place on the Resti- gouche River, which he visited each summer for the purpose of fishing. He also had some reputation as an amateur sportsman and politician. Florence himself attributed his success as an actor to simpleness of purpose, strict attention to detail, and a sinking of his identity in whatever character he un- dertook to portray. As a member of a stock company he preferred juvenile roles. He spoke a little French, some German, and less Italian. In social life he was a universal favorite. He wrote a book on the game of poker, which was published after his death. His early successes were due to his spirited imper- sonation of Irish characters. The critics agreed that he reproduced to life a certain type of devil-may-care Irishman, with his rollicking spirit, his dry humor, his mock innocence, his pathos, and his undercurrent of poetry. Outside of Irish characters, his best part was generally considered to be that of Captain Cuttle. Charles Dickens, upon seeing Florence as Cuttle dur- ing his engagement in London, wrote him a letter com- plimenting him upon his excellent work. Florence's MR. AND MRS. W. J. FLORENCE. IOJ traits were originality of type-drawing and natural drollery. His Captain Cuttle was as good as Burton's in the opinion of many fine critics. His Bard well Slote was a distinct and lasting American characterization. His Sir Lucius O'Trigger was almost as good as that of John Brougham and William Warren, while his Zekiel Homespun has probably never been equalled on any stage. In his obituary sketch of Florence, William Winter, the dramatic critic of The Tribune, said : " Few actors within the last forty years have stood upon a level with him in versatility, in power, and in charm. To his friends the loss is unspeakable. His gentleness, his simplicity, his modesty, his affectionate fidelity, his ready sympathy, his inexhaustible patience, his fine tal- ents, all these attributes, united with his spontaneous drollery, serve to enshrine him in tender affection." In an editorial reference to his death in the New York Times, it was declared " that it might be said of the death of Florence, as Lamb said of the retire- ment of Munden, ' How many worthy persons perish with him ! ' We shall never see another Sir Lucius and Zekiel Homespun. Captain Cuttle will only be found hereafter in Dickens's story. Bardwell Slote and Pinto Perkins are dead." FANNY DAVENPORT Bv JAY B. BENTON. THEATRE-GOERS of Boston whose memory extends back to performances thirty or more years ago recall with pleasure a bright, chubby little girl, who appeared upon the stage of the Howard Athenaeum as a target- bearer in the performance of " Pocahontas," and who marched about at the head of a procession of Indian girls. Those who lived in Louisville, Ky., about ten years later, remember with delight the winsome sou- brette, whose capital impersonations were the talk of the city, and whose work, whether in " The Black Crook," or in pieces of more dramatic merit, was marked by conscientious care. New York amusement seekers of twenty years ago have not forgotten the young actress whose development they noted in the favorite stock company of the city, and whose genius was displayed in such a manner that she was advanced until she became the leading lady of the organization. That chubby girl of Boston, that soubrette of Louis- ville, that promising actress of New York, was the woman with whose dramatic work all the United States has since become familiar, Fanny Davenport. After having played with success in Boston for sev- eral years, E. L. Davenport attracted the attention of 108 FANNY DAVENPORT IN "GISMONDA. ' FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OK TO DAY. IOQ Mrs. Anna Cora Mowatt by the merit of his work as the leading man of her support during a Philadelphia engagement. As a result, he was engaged to accom- pany her to England for the tour which opened in Manchester, Dec. 7, 1847. The American actress and actor won success wherever they appeared together, and at last they received the encouragement of a Lon- don triumph. When Mrs. Mowatt determined to re- turn to America, her leading man, who had shared in her success in every city, found it to his advantage to remain in England; and shortly after, in 1849, ne was married to Fanny Vining (Mrs. Charles -Gill), who was one of the actresses in the English company which had supported Mrs. Mowatt and himself. It was on April 10, 1850, in a little house on Great Russell Street, London, opposite the British Museum, that their first child was born, a daughter, whom they christened Fanny Lily Gipsy. With his wife and children Mr. Davenport returned to this country in 1854, and resumed the position on the American stage which he had left seven years before. Me soon came back to Boston to live, and it was in the public schools of that city that Fanny Davenport received the first part of her education. However, it was not from books or school that she drew her inspirations, but from her presence at the theatres in which her parents were playing, and from her acquaintance with the distin- guished actors and actresses who visited the Davenports at their house. All agreed that Fanny was a born actress as soon as they saw her imitations at home, or witnessed the performance of one of the little plays written by her, in whose production she directed her sisters, and enacted the principal characters. Soon she IIO FANNY DAVENPORT. had a chance to make an appearance on the regular stage, as the child in " Metamora," at the Howard Athenaeum, where her father and mother were playing. From that time on she could be intrusted with chil- dren's parts ; and whenever or wherever the Davenports were playing, and a child was needed, Fanny was sure to be selected. Her first New York experience was on Feb. 23, 1857, when Mr. Davenport and Harry Watkins assumed the management of Burton's Chambers Street Theatre, and opened it under the new name of "The American Theatre." At the opening performance "The Star Spangled Banner" was sung by Mr. and Mrs. Daven- port and the entire company, among whom was the child whom the bills styled "Miss Fanny." Her New York experience at this time was of short duration ; for the bills of the Howard Athenaeum, Boston, for July 19 of the same year, give the cast of a performance of " Pocahontas," in which Fanny Davenport was assigned to the part of Trot-er-Obend, the target-bearer ; her mother playing the Indian princess ; her father, Captain John Smith ; and John Brougham, the author of the burlesque, Powhatan. In 1859 Mr. Davenport became the lessee and mana- ger of the Howard Athenaeum ; and among the others who were enrolled upon the list of this unusually strong stock company was the now popular child-actress, Fanny Davenport. A glance over the files of the play- bills at this house during this period shows that she played, among other parts, the Peruvian boy in " Pi- zarro" with Joseph Proctor, the Genius of America in a war drama entitled "The Patriot's Dream," and King Charles II. in "Faint Heart Never Won Fair Lady," FANNY DAVENPORT. Ill on Oct. 29, 1860. It was in this last-named part that she made her real metropolitan debut at Niblo's Gar- den, Feb. 14, 1862, when she played with her father as Ruy Gomez, and her mother as The Duchess of Terra- nueva, the same parts which they had previously acted in the Boston performance. After acting with her parents in other cities, she made her first appearance in an adult part at the little Tremont Theatre, Boston. The play was "Still Waters Run Deep," and she was cast for the part of Mrs. Mildmay. This was with Wallack and Davenport's combination, an organization of which Rose Kytinge was the leading lady. Soon the young actress's profes- sional position became such that she received offers to play alone ; and at length she decided to accept the place of soubrette in the stock company at the Louis- ville Theatre, and, leaving home and friends, she went South. Her first part was Carline in "The Black Crook," and her success was pronounced from the first. Her next important engagement was at the Arch Street Theatre, Philadelphia, where she appeared as soubrette in dramas, farces, and operas, among them " Barbe Bleue," under the management of Mrs. John Drew. It was here that she attracted the attention of Augustin Daly, who offered her a position in his stock company at the old Fifth Avenue Theatre on Twenty- fourth Street. Mr. Daly had only been manager of the house for six weeks when, on Sept. 29, 1869, Miss Davenport made her first appearance with the company as Lady Gay Spanker in "London Assurance." Tin- cast included father and daughter, Mr. Davenport play- ing the part of Sir Hareourt Courtly. Her success at the very outset of her New York experience in a play 1 I 2 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. of this nature was repeated in the subsequent revival of old comedies which had been practically forgotten, but which were received with great favor. Notable among these were her impersonations of Miss Richland in Goldsmith's "The Good-Natured Man," Lady Mary in Mrs. Inchbald's " Maids as They Are and Wives as They Were," and Violetta in Colley Gibber's " She Wou'd and She Wou'd Not." It was not in the revivals of semi-forgotten dramas that her only hits were made ; for she was equally suc- cessful as Letitia Hardy in "The Belle's Stratagem," and Mistress Ford in "The Merry Wives of Windsor." In the Robertsonian drama she had the opportunity of playing ; and her Polly Eccles in " Caste," and Rosie Farquhere in " Play," are remembered by New Yorkers with pleasure. Among the other performances which she gave at this house were Alice Hawthorne in " Old Heads and Young Hearts," Mrs. Madison Noble in Olive Logan's " Surf," Effie Remington in Bronson Howard's " Saratoga," the Baroness and Fernande in two different productions of " Fernande," the Jackson version of Sardou's " Andrea," the Baroness de Mirac in " Article 47," and Nellie Wikoff in " Diamonds." When Mr. Daly produced "Divorce" at this theatre, Miss Davenport was cast as the sprightly Lu Ten Eyck, and later on she played the part of Fanny Ten Eyck in the same play. When the pretty little theatre in Twenty-fourth Street was burned, and Mr. Daly transferred his stock company to the old Globe Theatre on Broadway, Miss Davenport remained in the organization until the new Fifth Avenue on Twenty-eighth Street was completed. At the opening performance, Dec. 3, 1873, James Al- FANNY DAVENPORT. n* berry's "Fortune" was played; and Miss Davenport was cast as Kitty Compton, the housekeeper. A little later W. S. Gilbert's "Charity" was given ; and in this she played Madge the tramp, and developed dramatic power that was unexpected by those who had seen her earlier performances. This hit was so great that it induced Mr. Daly to write "Pique," in which Miss Dav- enport created the part of Mabel Renfrew, and eclipsed all her earlier triumphs. The piece was produced at the Fifth Avenue, Dec. 14, 1876, and had a run of two hundred and thirty-eight consecutive performances. During the next season, which was Mr. Daly's last as the manager of the house, Miss Davenport's chief successes were Rosalind in the production of " As You Like It," and Mary Stark in " Lemons." Then began her career as a theatrical star, in which she vis- ited all parts of the country with success. At first her efforts were devoted to Mabel Renfrew in " Pique ; " but it was not long before she began playing a varied reper- toire, a policy which she continued until the season of 1883-1884. Her plays included tragedy and comedy, works of the modern French stage and the Shake- spearian drama. Up to the close of her playing in a repertoire Miss Davenport had been seen in a long list of parts. In Shakespeare's plays she had acted Rosalind in "As You Like it," Imogen in " Cymbeline," Rosaline in " Love's Labor's Lost," Beatrice in "Much Ado About Nothing," and Lady Macbeth, in which she was less successful than in the others. Among the other poetic or tragic parts which she played were Pauline in "The Lady of Lyons," and Leah in " Leah the Forsaken." In the old comedies, including in that list the more I 14 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. modern plays which common consent now places there, she has acted Lady Teazle in " The School for Scan- dal," Julia in "The Honeymoon," Miss Hardcastle in "She Stoops to Conquer," Tilburina in "The Critic," and Peg Woffington in " Masks and Faces," in addi- tion to the parts previously mentioned. One of the most successful of her impersonations was Nancy Sikes in a novel dramatization of " Oliver Twist ; " while her Camille was particularly well acted, in fact, one of the best on the American stage, although in personal appearance she was hardly an ideal repre- sentative of Dumas's consumptive heroine. Other characters which she has given are Gilberte in "Frou Frou," Estie in " Blue Glass," Bell Van Rensslaer in Bronson Howard's " Moorcroft," Francine of the pearl gray in Daly's " Two Widows," Duchess de Sept- monts in " The American," Daly's adaptation of Dumas's " L'Etrangere," Eugenia Cadwallader in " The Big Bonanza," Helen Gaythorne in " Weak Woman," Mary Melrose in " Our Boys," Dianthe de Marel in "What Should She Do?" and Madame Guichard in "Monsieur Alphonse." The least suc- cessful of her impersonations were Olivia in Wills's dramatization of "The Vicar of Wakefield," and Kate Vivian in Anna Dickinson's "An American Girl;" but the failure of success in the latter case was due more to the play than to the actress. Miss Davenport had made several pleasure trips abroad, but up to 1882 she had never acted there. Then she made a professional visit to England, and played for a brief season in London and elsewhere. The principal piece in which she was seen was " Pique," which was played under the title of " Only a FANNY DAVENPORT. 115 Woman," but it failed to win the success there which it had made in this country. In 1883 began a new chapter in the actress's history. Until that time her engagements had been devoted to several plays ; and although their popularity had not diminished, Miss Davenport felt that she could win ad- ditional laurels in new parts. Sarah Bernhardt was at that time the talk of all Paris for her impersonation of Fedora, in Sardou's play of that name ; but no Amer- ican actress had secured the rights to the piece. Cer- tain of success, Miss Davenport obtained the play, appeared in New York in 1883, and made the hit which she had anticipated. Her impersonation was no imita- tion of the French actress ; it was a forcible, distinct conception of the part. As such it met with appro- bation from critics, and praise from audiences ; and for five seasons Miss Davenport had no necessity of obtain- ing a new piece, although during the latter seasons she made occasional appearances in the successful pieces of her earlier career. In 1887 Madame Bernhardt's success in "La Tosca" abroad led Miss Davenport to think it advisable to obtain the rights for that piece for America, which she did, repeating the success of Fedora in her performance in Sardou's harrowing play, which she gave for the first time at the opening of the Broadway Theatre, March 3, 1888. Sardou's " Cleopatra " was the third of Sarah Bern- hardt's pieces for Miss Davenport to produce in this country. Having obtained the American rights to it, she made preparations for its first performance at the Fifth Avenue Theatre, at the opening of which she had played a little over seventeen years before. Elaborate preparations had been made for a spectacular produc- Il6 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. tion ; and on Dec. 23, 1890, the play was given for the first time in this country. Months had been spent in the preparation, and the result was a triumph for the strength of the acting, for the richness of costuming, and for the elaborateness of mounting. However, the triumph was of short duration ; for, on the night of Jan. 2, 1891, the house was burned, and everything was destroyed. Miss Davenport, who, as for several sea- sons, was her own manager, was hardly disconcerted for a moment. She was booked to appear in Boston in three weeks, and she determined to fulfil the engage- ment, and she did. New scenic artists were summoned, costumers were set at work, and skilful men began pre- paring the music which formed so important a factor in the production. Although the achievement was almost as magical as the erection of Aladdin's palace, every- thing was gotten in readiness ; and on Jan. 27, 1891, the piece was presented at the Hollis Street Theatre, Bos- ton, with an equipment that was fully as elaborate as that which had been destroyed by fire only three weeks before, and which had taken months for its preparation. Miss Davenport's fourth and last Sardou production was that of "Gismonda," which Bernhardt had pro- duced before her in Paris. This was given for the first time in the fall of 1894 in New York, with the most elaborate scenic production that Miss Davenport had ever had, and has continued to be the leading feature of her repertoire since that time. So much must suffice for the summary of the profes- sional life of the actress. Miss Davenport has had two husbands. On July 30, 1879, she was married to Ed- win H. Price, an actor who had supported her in her travelling company. He accompanied her on her tours, FANNY DAVENPORT. I I 7 acting during the first years, and performing the du- ties of business manager later. They were divorced on June 8, 1888; and on May 19, 1889, Miss Davenport married Melbourne MacDowell, an actor who had been a member of her company for some time, and who now appears as her leading man. For years Miss Davenport's home, where she spent her summer vacations, was at Canton, Pa., a delight- ful spot, picturesquely situated among the mountains. It was the place picked out by her father for his sum- mer home, and the daughter was so charmed with the spot that she purchased a neighboring estate for her- self. It was at Canton that E. L. Davenport died, on Sept. i, 1877; and his widow passed away at her daughter's home, July 20, 1891. Later Miss Davenport chose Duxbury, Mass., for her summer residence; and when her season's professional work is over, she retires to her beautiful residence there, and passes the summer months in quiet. Her sister May (Mrs. William Seymour) has a home near by, and other members of the family have summer resi- dences at the same delightful spot. Recent theatre-goers at the mention of Miss Daven- port's name think of her Gismonda. It is a remark- able impersonation, full of dramatic power, and a fitting central figure for the magnificent scenic equipment which she has provided for the performance. Her La Tosca will be remembered even longer than her Gis- monda : for the varying phases of Sardou's Tuscan her- oine seem almost as if created expressly for her. In the soft, languorous moments, in her cooing petulance, in the ra^e of jealousv, in her pleading fondness, in ~ } * * her terrible struggles, in the carrying out of her horri- 1 1 8 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. ble revenge on Scarpia, she was always excellent, and oftentimes great. No one can forget the thrill which attended the stabbing scene, or the pathos of her dis- covery that her lover was dead, and not shamming as she had thought. Fedora was also a part which fitted her perfectly; and her acting was in some respects even superior to Madame Bernhardt's impersonation, having more blood, more humanity, more heart. It was a womanly conception, and one which carried an audience with it irresistibly. Of the parts with which she was identified in her earlier career, her Rosalind was a most pleasing per- formance, being graceful and neat. To her Rosalind was a genuine young woman, sensitive and emotional, but strong with the courage of her needs and of her situ- ation. In her hands Leah was treated with sympathetic intelligence, and invested with picturesque force, which at the climax of the fourth act rose to great tragic power. In " The School for Scandal " Miss Davenport was thoroughly charming, her impersonation being sparkling, graceful, and polished. Her conception was an honest one, and the screen scene has seldom been better acted than by her. Beatrice in " Much Ado About Nothing " was played with freshness, vigor, wo- manliness, and sparkle ; and the lighter scenes received especially fine interpretation. From the very outset of her career Fanny Davenport has taken a conspicuous place in the theatrical world, and she has done much to continue the reputation of a name which was already distinguished. J. LESTER WALLACK IN " ROSEDALE." JOHN LESTER WALLACK. BY JULIAN MAGNUS. THE death of John Lester Wallack, at Stamford, Conn., on Sept. 6, 1888, took from the American stage the last of the great " light comedians " that there was any prospect of seeing again on its boards. It is true that James E. Murdoch was alive, but he had long ceased to act; whereas Mr. Wallack entertained a hope of recovering from the sciatic affection which had partially lamed him for about two years, and again playing some of his best-known parts. The fact that I have named Lester Wallack as a great "light co- median " must not be taken, by those who did not know his many-sided talents, to mean that it was only in this branch of his art that he was accomplished ; he was an excellent actor of serious parts, and a showy and effective hero in many melodramas, but it was in light comedy that he shone pre-eminent. Wallack was born in New York, Jan. I, 1820. His father, James W. Wallack the elder, then acting in that city, and his mother, were both English. Lester was taken to England when very young, and educated there. For a short time he held a commission in the English army a career to which his elder brother devoted his life. Lester was, however, evidently des- 119 120 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. tined for the stage; and the record of his first public appearance is at Dublin, in 1842, under the name of John W. Lester, as Don Pedro in " Much Ado About Nothing." Mr. Wallack once told me that his first appearance was made in Rochester, England, in the part of Rochester in a comedy dealing with the time of Charles II. ; but I cannot get this confirmed. It may be encouraging to many young actors and actresses to learn that, at the outset of his career, Les- ter Wallack was very unpromising. His contempo- raries were unanimous on -this point, and I have often heard him cordially confirm their report. For two seasons Lester Wallack continued to play in Dublin ; from there he went to Edinburgh, where he was in the same company with John Parselle afterwards so well liked at the Union Square Theatre, New York. Lester also played a short engagement at the Hay- market Theatre, London. On Sept. 27, 1847, still playing as John W. Lester, he made his first appear- ance on the American stage at the New York Broad- way Theatre, in the character of Sir Charles Coldstream in Dion Boucicault's adaptation, " Used Up." Some time after he joined his father's company at the theatre formerly known as Brougham's Lyceum, and assumed the onerous positions of stage-manager and leading man. He did not put his name as "Wallack " on the play- bills till the theatre at the corner of Thirteenth Street, now known as the Star, was built. This was opened in the fall of 1861, with a play entitled "The New Presi- dent," which did not prove successful. James W. Wai- lack's name was retained as proprietor and manager until his death, in 1864, though he never acted on the JOHN LESTER WALLACK. 121 stage of the Thirteenth Street house, as during his la- test years he was a great sufferer from rheumatic gout. Lester Wallack, with the able assistance of Theodore Moss in the business department, managed that theatre with almost constant success till the newer and last Wallack's, now Palmer's, was built at the corner of Thirtieth Street and Broadway. It was opened on Jan. 4, 1882, with "The School for Scandal ;" but Lester Wallack did not play in it, as he had for several years prior given up the part of Charles Surface, for which he said he was too old and too heavy. He, however, continued to play Charles Marlowe and Charles Court- ley, and all who saw those characterizations could not but regret that they were unable to see him in Sheri- dan's masterpiece. The removal to Thirtieth Street was not attended with the success that was hoped for ; and after several seasons of varying fortunes, Mr. Wal- lack subleased the theatre for one season to Henry E. Abbey. The new manager was not any more success- ful, and after one season was glad to retire. Theodore Moss, who had become the owner of the property, after carrying on the business for some time under his own direction, made an arrangement whereby A. M. Palmer assumed the control. No other actor that New York has known has suc- ceeded in holding for so long a time as did Lester Wallack the first place in its affection as an actor and a manager, and none has attained the same social posi- tion and recognition. The strongest proof of the esteem in which he was held was furnished by the wonderful results of the testimonial benefit given to him at the Metropolitan Opera House on May 21, 1888, when nearly twenty-one thousand dollars was realized 122 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. and presented to Mrs. Wallack, Mr. Wallack himself declining to accept the money. The benefit was splen- didly managed by A. M. Palmer, Augustin Daly, and committees of eminent actors and newspaper men. At the actual date of the performance Mr. Daly was in Europe, and the bulk of the work fell upon A. M. Palmer. The play was " Hamlet," and the cast was composed of the most famous actors and actresses in the country. Those who were not assigned parts " went on " as supernumeraries, and such an array of well-known players was never before seen on any stage in this country. Edwin Booth was Hamlet; Modjeska, Ophelia ; Lawrence Barrett, the Ghost ; and Jefferson and Florence, the Grave-diggers. After the second act Mr. Wallack made a speech of thanks, and said that, if God spared him and again gave him the use of his " rebellious limbs," he hoped to resume acting. But, as previously stated, it was less than four months afterwards that the final curtain fell on his brilliant career. Few men have been more gifted by nature for suc- cess on the stage than was Lester Wallack. He pos- sessed a singularly handsome, mobile, and expressive face, a tall, powerful, and graceful figure, and a remark- ably pleasing speaking and singing voice. Above all he had that indefinable quality we have come to call "magnetism," and that confidence in his ability to hold and delight an audience which arose from long years of success. Lester Wallack was a product of the old school, which made actors, and not specialists. While he did not venture into the domain of heavy tragedy, he played many powerfully emotional parts, one of the best being Hugh Trevor in "All for Her," and JOHN LESTER WALLACK. 123 traversed all the range of the drama to the frailest of farce. He took the then considered inferior part of Charles Courtley in " London Assurance," and made it more important than that of Dazzle. When he played "Ours," Hugh Chalcote became the most prominent part, although originally it was played by a low comedian. In fact, with Lester Wallack it was very much the old story that " where McGregor sits there is the head of the table." Yet he was too good an artist ever to force himself or his part into undue prominence. To say in what characters he excelled would be to give an enormously long list, and then some would be surely left out that many of his older admirers would want included. To the writer, who only knew him during the last fifteen years of his active career, he seemed to be at his best in Charles Surface, Charles Courtley, Elliot Grey, Hugh Chalcote, Charles Mar- lowe, and in " The Captain of the Watch," and " My Awful Dad." On looking over the records of one of the earlier seasons at the first Wallack' s Theatre, I find that John Lester played nearly ninety different parts, and that in nearly half of these he appeared for the first time. What would one of our young society actors of to-day think of such a season's work added to the hard labors of stage -management ? It was to this schooling, however, that Mr. Wallack attributed his own success. He was a believer in the theory that " an actor is made, not born," and his own early efforts gave foundation for the belief. He attained a bright- ness, a vivacity, a grace, a quickness, and a charm which have not been equalled within the memory of the pres- ent generation of theatre-goers. I 24 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. Above and beyond all these qualities was the sense of vitality and earnestness in his work. He acted, as he used to say, " all over." He was not content to speak his lines ; but he played with his body, his legs, his arms, his hands, and even his feet. There were meaning and emphasis in every gesture ; and yet his gestures were abundant, though never redundant. He was the only actor I have ever seen trained in the "legitimate" who could be equally at home in the "tea- cup and saucer" comedy. No amount of work was too great for him at rehearsals. As a stage-manager he was infinitely the best I have ever seen or played under. He would, if necessary, act all the parts in the piece, those of the women included ; and the actor who could not learn to play acceptably under his direction must have been entirely unfitted for the stage. When play- ing under another stage-manager or author, such, for instance, as Dion Boucicault, Lester Wallack was as pliable and obedient as any member of the cast. While not a writer of especially brilliant or strong dialogue, Lester Wallack put together several ex- tremely effective plays, the situations of which were handled with the appreciative skill of a clever actor and stage-manager, and supplied with "talk" which pleased and amused. Mr. Wallack's plays were not strikingly original in theme, and in some he had the advantage of collaboration. Among the best known are "Rosedale," which alone drew a fortune, "The Veteran," "Cen- tral Park ;" dramatizations of "The Three Guardsmen," "The Four Musketeers," and "Monte Cristo ; " "The Fortune of War," "Two to One," "First Impressions," and a comedy written in conjunction with W. H Hurlburt, called, I think, " Americans in Paris." Mr. JOHN LESTER WALLACK. 125 Wallack's pen was also often effectively employed in touching up and altering plays produced on his stage. As a manager, Lester Wallack was liberal and enter- prising, although in rather narrow limits, up to within the last few years of his active life, when he seemed to lose heart and courage. He mounted and dressed his plays superbly, and was ever liberal, considerate, cour- teous, and encouraging to the members of his company. He was, unfortunately, the last of the resident actor- managers ; and his people felt that he was a man who was in thorough sympathy with their artistic aims, who would appreciate with what pains they achieved suc- cess, and who could discern and feel grateful for the earnestness and endeavor which might not result so fortunately. His revival of "Much Ado," in which he played Benedick to the Beatrice of Rose Eytinge, has not, in point of sumptuousness, good taste, or correct- ness of detail, been surpassed by any subsequent set- ting of Shakespearian comedy. Perhaps the most marked fault of Lester Wallack's management, and one that more than all others con- tributed to his later failures, was his extreme devotion to English plays and English actors. He failed to recognize the gradually growing demand for American plays and players ; and though, at long intervals, he gave an American author a chance, he was not fortu- nate in his selections, and did not seem to be much grieved at failure. As a man, Lester Wallack was brave, honest, and true. He had read much and thought much, and was a delightful and entertaining companion, and a firm and loyal friend to those he admitted to his intimacy, though this number was somewhat restricted. It was 126 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. my privilege to be associated with him for several years, occasionally acting with him, and at other times in the business of the theatre ; and it has never been my good fortune to meet with a man more capable of inspiring general respect and genuine affection. Lester Wallack married a sister of the English artist, John Everett Millais. They had three sons, Charles, Arthur, and Harold, and one daughter. None of the sons has acted ; but Arthur was at one time associated in the management of Wallack's, and has shown some ability as a dramatist. MRS. JOHN DREW AS MRS. MALAPROP. MRS. JOHN DREW. BY T. ALLSTON BROWN. LOUISA LANE was born in England, Jan. 10, 1818. Her mother, afterwards Mrs. Eliza Kinlock, was mar- ried to Mr. Lane, an English actor and manager, who died when our heroine was in her infancy. Louisa was taken on the stage by her mother, when only nine months old, in a play called "Giovanni in Lon- don;" and all she had to do was to cry, at which she was not a success. This, I believe, is the only time in seventy and more years that this lady has failed to fulfil the requirements of the role assigned her. Her first important speaking character was Agib in " Timour the Tartar," at the Liverpool Theatre. In company with her mother she came to America, arriv- ing here in the summer of 1827. Her American dcbnt took place at the Walnut Street Theatre, Philadelphia, Sept. 26, 1827, as the Duke of York to the elder Booth's Richard III. Her first appearance in New York was at the Old Bowery Theatre, March 3, i82.S. In company with her mother she visited many of the principal cities of the country. In Philadelphia, on Jan. 5, 1829, she made her first appearance at the old Chestnut Street Theatre. Miss Line sustained five different characters in a new farce called " Twelve 127 128 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. Precisely," and Little Pickle in "The Spoiled Child." In the first piece she personated an Irish character, and for a child of eleven years her versatility was won- derful ; her brogue and manner were excellent. More- over, her performance of Little Pickle possessed great merit. Three days later she acted Dr. Pangloss ; and that impersonation was pronounced by the critics "the best since the days of Twaits," yet, at the same time, he never produced half the effect, nor was his humor by any means as rich as was our heroine's. In the "Actress of All Work," in which she played the same night, the actress went through six characters, distinguishing and marking each with a precision that would have done credit to many of the "stars" that occasionally twinkle on our stage. Miss Lane's first benefit took place Jan. 16, 1829, when she acted Dr. Pangloss. As she stood by the orchestra, and looking round the pit, inquired if any one there wanted the instructions of an LL.D. and A.S.S. at three hundred a year, the effect was irresist- ible, and the house shouted with laughter. She next appeared at the Walnut Street Theatre, Philadelphia, where she played a farewell engagement prior to her departure for the South and West. She appeared in Cincinnati, Ohio, July 8, 1829, as Dr. Pangloss, then returned to Philadelphia, and opened Sept. 22, 1829, at the Arch Street Theatre for the first time. Next fol- lowed another Southern tour, opening in New Orleanr in April, 1830, as Richard III. Her stepfather, Mr. Kinlock (to whom her mother was married shortly after her arrival in America), died in Jamaica, in 1831, he having gone there with Mrs. Kinlock for his health. Mrs. Kinlock died in 1855. MRS. JOHN DREW. I 29 After playing successfully through the South and West, Miss Lane opened at the Columbia Street Theatre, Cincinnati, Ohio, as Maria in the comic opera, " Of Age To-morrow." N. M. Ludlow acted Baron Witting- hurst. Then she reappeared at the Walnut Street Theatre, Philadelphia, as Albina Mandeville in "The Will." During the season of 1833 she was a member of the Old Bowery Theatre Company. Miss Lane was married, in 1836, to Henry B. Hunt, an Englishman who came to this country in 1828 as a tenor singer. He died in New York, Feb. i r, 1854. His wife reappeared at the Old Bowery in 1838; and on Aug. 19, 1839, sne appeared at the Walnut Street Theatre as Mrs. Hunt, acting Italia in " Romanzo." There she remained for the season, her salary being twenty dollars per week. That was the highest salary paid there at that time. When the Chestnut Street Theatre, Philadelphia, opened its season, Aug. 28, 1841, she was a member of the company that included such artists as Peter Rich- ings, principal comedian, Mr. and Mrs. Edward N. Thayer, Neafie, Miss Hildreth (afterwards the wife of General B. F. Butler), and the Vallee Sisters (one of whom afterwards married Ben De Bar). Mrs. Hunt played leading juvenile business. On July 9, 1846, she acted Constance in " The Love Chase " to the Wildrake of E. L. Davenport, at the Old Bowery Theatre, Xew York, for Mr. Davenport's benefit. In 1847 once more she went Westward, and appeared in Chicago at John B. Rice's new theatre, the site of which is now occupied by the Sherman House. Next she visited St. Louis, Mo., opening for a fortnight, Sept. 13, 1847, and playing a wide range of the drama. 130 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. Her repertoire was Constance in " The Love Chase," and Joseph in "The Young Scamp;" Ion in the tra- gedy of that name ; Rosalind in " As You Like It," and Widow Brady in "The Irish Widow;" The - in "The Devil in Paris," and Minnie in "Somebody Else;" Donna Olivia in "A Bold Stroke for a Husband," and other varying characters. In 1848 she was engaged at the St. Charles Theatre, New Orleans, under Ludlow and Smith's management, who were also lessees of the Mobile and St. Louis the- atres. She then came East, and was married in 1848 to George Mossop, an Irish singer and comedian. In July, 1849, sne appeared in Albany, N.Y. Mr. Mossop suddenly died there, Oct. 8, 1849. Mrs. Mossop was married to John Drew in Albany, on the 2/th of July, 1850, while both were members of the Museum company. Mr. Drew was, without doubt, one of the best all-round comedians (particularly in Irish character) seen on our stage. His wife, after a brief starring tour, returned to Philadelphia, and be- came a member of the company of the Chestnut Street Theatre, when the season of 18521853 opened. At this house she remained until Feb. 21, 1853, when she went to the Arch Street Theatre in the same city, then under the management of Thomas J. Hemphill. Mrs. Drew opened in " She Wou'd and She Wou'd Not." On Aug. 20, 1853, Mr. Drew became one of the les- sees of this theatre, and so continued for two seasons. In the summer of 1855 husband and wife went on a starring tour through the South. John Drew died in Philadelphia, May 21, 1862. On Aug. 14, 1858, William Wheatlcy and John S. Clarke became lessees of the Arch, and conducted a stock MRS. JOHN DREW. 13! company that was one of the best ever organized 'in America. It consisted of Mrs. Drew, Mr. and Mrs. John Gilbert, S. D. Johnson, Emma Taylor, Georgiana Kinlock, Mrs. W. C. Gladstone, John S. Clarke, Wil- liam Wheatley, L. R. Shewell, John E. McCullough (utility), and John Dolman, of late years a prominent lawyer in Philadelphia. Mrs. Drew assumed the man- agement of this theatre Aug. 31 1861, and thereafter, until her recent tours as a special attraction in star combinations, made her name identified with the house. She kept up the stock system until the opening of the season of 1877-1878, when she made the theatre a com- bination house, playing travelling companies. When she took the Arch the property had depre- ciated greatly, and was mortgaged to the amount of twenty thousand dollars. Under her management the theatre greatly prospered, the mortgage was quickly paid off, and a surplus left for the stockholders. The stock, which had a par value of five hundred dollars a share, under her management reached a value of seven hundred and eighty dollars, and could not even then be purchased except upon the death of a stockholder. Mrs. Drew is one of the most versatile actresses ever seen on the American stage. I know of no lady who possesses greater originality of conception, more boldness of design, or more intimate knowledge of that difficult art which assimilates acting to the workings of natural impulse. She is perfectly "at home" in tragedy and comedy. As a child and an actress she has been connected with the stage for nearly three- score years. While there arc living older actors and actresses, there is not one now before the public who can equal her in years. 132 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. Mrs. Drew is one of the few instances of a prodigy in youth becoming a star in the dramatic constellation. Her greatness does not arise from that of the charac- ter, but consists in her manner of portraying it. In form, stature, mobility of countenance, and physique, she is made to give the dramatic world assurance of an actress ; while a lofty intellect, a passionate devo- tion to her art, and a highly cultivated mind, have stamped the seal of excellence upon her brow. Her reading is faultless ; her voice clear, of great compass, and musical in tone ; her enunciation so clear and distinct that you lose no word or syllable of the text in her most impassioned utterance. She does not " mouth " or "saw the air," as some of our players do, nor "tear a passion to tatters;" nor does she "o'er- step the modesty of nature." There is a refreshing originality about her concep- tions ; while to a remarkable degree she possesses the talent that makes a bodiless creation of the dramatist's mind a living fact, suffused and impregnated with nat- ural emotions and desires. It is in the higher range of dramatic acting that this lady shines. She invests her characters with a charm that had its birth in nature. She disdains the idea of playing to an audi- ence, and appealing to its sympathies through the garb only of the character in which she appears. In en- ergy, in earnestness of purpose, in fidelity to all those minute details of delineation which make it perfect, she is the queen of her art. She has always pos- sessed a wonderfully quick study ; and I am told by old actors, who have been members of her stock com- pany at the " Arch," that she was never known to come to even the first rehearsal with the book of the MRS. JOHN DREW. 133 play. Whenever a new piece was to be produced, it was first read to the company, then the rehearsals called. She was always letter perfect. Mrs. Drew was among the first women who under- took the labor of management, and she produced a reform in the manner of placing pieces on the stage. A great many old actors have told me that she is the best stage-director ever seen. As the principal stage carpenter of the "Arch" once said to me with pride, " Why, sir, there ain't a carpenter in the theatre whom she can't sometimes teach how to do a thing." Her glance was everywhere. Her judgment and taste were carried into every department. Her administrative powers are remarkable. As Peg Woffington, Mrs. Drew has had no superior on the American stage. In the scene where she im- personates the character of Miss Bracegirdle, to de- ceive Colley Gibber and the rest of the characters, she was indeed great. Not a feature or a tone of voice betrayed the cheat. Her Mrs. Oakley, in " The Jeal- ous Wife," was beyond doubt the best ever witnessed in this country. She grasped it with an artist's pas- sion, an artist's soul. She threw her whole volume of power and of compass into the elements the author created, and thus she flashed and sparkled in them like the diamond amid the glare of a million of lights. Her Hypolita, in "She Wou'd and She Wou'd Not," was a most delightful piece of acting, fresh, natural, sparkling, and altogether charming. As Dot, in " The Cricket on the Hearth," she was very pleasing, a per- fect picture of a cheerful, loving wife, full of senti- ment and affection of the noblest kind. The part of Lydia Languish offers no opportunity for the display 134 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. of acting of any sort, and in the hands of the majority of actresses degenerates into a weak, foolish school miss ; yet Mrs. Drew threw a spirit into the romantic nature of the girl, and gave it an individuality far more in accordance with Sheridan's design than the usual rendering of the character. Lady Teazle and Mrs. Malaprop are the two great- est creations of this lady. She is a perfect picture of the pretty, spoiled, but honest country girl ; and in those powdered head-dresses which generally so disfig- ure ladies on the stage, she looks many years younger than she is. She plays Mrs. Malaprop gloriously, making her ludicrous verbal blunders with the most sublime unconsciousness, and embodying the part as she alone can do it. Her playing of this part in re- cent years, with Joseph Jefferson and W. J. Florence as stars in the cast, and with herself as the next player in interest and importance, showed to what a remarkable degree she had retained the brilliancy of her histrionic powers. RICHARD MANSFIELD AS KING RICHARD III. RICHARD MANSFIELD. BY WILLIAM HENRY KKOST. IT may be supposed that a large part, if not the larger part, of the artistic achievement of the career of Richard Mansfield is still in the future. Though he has passed through all that could be called his age of promise, he has still many of the best years of life before him for fulfilment. All signs will fail if an artis- tic temperament, an untiring energy, and an unflagging industry do not result in a long line of worthy and memorable creations. Mr. Mansfield has gained for himself a prominent place in the public view, and he has the virility to hold it. Even those who do not commend are obliged to see and to note him. This is because all that he does is done with decision, author- ity, conviction, and originality. When a work of art that bears the stamp of such qualities as these is pre- sented to the consideration of thoughtful judges, they must approve or disapprove it unhesitatingly. They cannot be indifferent. The artist commands their attention. Mr. Mansfield's life began in Heligoland, a spot which, though small, has drawn a good deal of atten- tion to itself from time to time. His mother was the prima donna Mine. Rudersdorf. A large part of his 136 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. boyhood and youth was spent in travel in England, Germany, Switzerland, and France. A migratory life, if one does not get too much of it, is an excellent means of education. An artistic nature will usually assert itself in some way or other under almost any circum- stances ; but familiarity with such scenes as those of the Alps, the Tyrol, and the Rhine can hardly fail to confirm, to develop, and to strengthen it. The boy did not lack training of a more usual sort. He went to school in Germany, and also in England. It was at Derby that he spent the schooldays to which he now looks back as days of healthful pleasure and ennobling influence. The master of the school was the late Rev. Walter Clark. He made such an impression on young Mansfield as can never be lost, and is surely not likely to be forgotten. The last time that Mr. Mansfield visited the school was while he was in Eng- land with his company a few years ago. The school needed a racket-court ; and the actor loyally gave two performances, in the afternoon and evening of the same day, to raise the necessary funds. The perform- ances, one of " Prince Karl " and one of " Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde," were enthusiastically received, espe- cially by the schoolboys, and the sum was raised. While Mansfield was at Derby a prophet visited the school. He was Dr. Selwyn, Bishop of Lichfield. It was "speech day ;" and the boys acted "The Merchant of Venice," Mansfield playing Shylock. After the play was over the bishop shook the boy's hand, and said, " Heaven forbid that I should encourage you to become an actor ; but should you, if I mistake not, you will be a great one." After this Mansfield spent some time in study at RICHARD MANSFIELD. 137 South Kensington, in deference to the desire of his mother, who wished that he should become an artist, that is, a painter. The time here was short, and at the end of it he came to America. Here a mercantile life was resolved upon ; and he entered the house of Jordan & Marsh, in Boston, to learn their business. The most that he gained by this venture was the lasting friendship of Eben D. Jordan, which often after that proved helpful and sustaining. But it was not natural that a career such as was now proposed should long seem attractive to a young man whose instincts and tastes were all artistic. He found that he could sell his pictures, and he soon returned to the making of them. But he had not yet found his place, and he was not yet at ease. He went to England again to study and to paint ; and now Fortune seemed to stand squarely in his path, and to set her face against him, though it was, as it proved, only to turn him away from this mistaken path into one along which, as he walked, he might pluck the leaves for greener garlands. Just at this time he walked the streets of London. No bays were growing there ; and the streets were very hard and the stones of them very cold, while the young man's shoes were not always very warm, to say nothing of his gloves. There- was nothing gratifying about. this experience. It has its picturesque and romantic side, when the effect is aided by distance of time or space; but while OIK- is in the midst of it this side is not conspicuous. He knew what cold meant, and he would have been glad to get more to eat. That Mansfield was able after- wards to see the poetical side of such hardship every- one who has seen his play "Monsieur" knows. Perhaps 138 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. he may have seen it then ; but it must have seemed a grim sort of poetry, especially when he finally had an engagement to sing, and was actually unable to keep it because of weakness and suffering. Educational no doubt it all was ; a stern teacher is Experience. To one in this position it may easily be imagined what an engagement at ^"3 a week meant. It is not a large sum ; but if it comes regularly and is judiciously used, it will buy some sort of food, clothing, and shelter, as many a rich and honored merchant and statesman and scholar and artist knows. It came to Mansfield from D'Oyly Carte ; and in return for it the young man travelled about with Mr. Carte's provincial opera company, and sang J. Wellington Wells, in "The Sorcerer," and other like parts. After a time, how- ever, Mansfield and D'Oyly Carte disagreed. Mans- field thought he ought to have $ los. ; Mr. Carte thought not, and they parted. Engagements and engagements followed, with vary- ing fortune, but always with gains of experience ; and seven years after he had left America, Mansfield was back again, and his first appearance was in " Les Man- teaux Noirs," at the Standard Theatre, New York. After he had sung in an opera or two here, he joined the company at the Union Square Theatre ; and a small part in "A Parisian Romance" was assigned to him. The story of this play has often been told. Mr. Mans- field was " lent " to a company singing " lolanthe" in Baltimore, and played the part of the Lord Chancellor for a few nights, and then, being summoned by a de- spatch from Mr. Palmer, returned to New York with a sprained ankle, caused by a slip in dancing. Then Mr. Stoddart refused to play the Baron Chevrial. RICHARD MANSFIELD. 139 Mansfield took the part ; it made a tremendous hit, and the actor at last was recognized. Mansfield's Baron Chevrial was a successful perform- ance and a marvellous performance, and it still is so at the time this sketch is written. Beyond that per- haps the less said about it the better. Mansfield went back to comic opera again, and appeared as Koko in John Stetson's "Mikado " company. While he was in Boston with this company he made an arrangement with R. M. Field to appear at the Boston Museum. He began his engagement there with "A Parisian Romance," and a week later played "Prince Karl." This was another unqualified success. Beyond the fact that Baron Chevrial and Prince Karl were both well played, they were about as different as two parts could be. The new play was a slight affair ; and its attractiveness depended, as has been the case more than once with Mr. Mansfield's plays, on the perform- ance of the principal actor. Mr. Mansfield has made other powerful creations, but he has never acted a more charming character than Prince Karl. The poor prince had many sorrows ; everybody sympathized with them, and yet everybody laughed at them. The im- personation overflowed with true humor. The pa- tience, the courage, and the cheerful self-sacrifice of the young German were pathetic ; yet they were every moment so amusing that no one would have him suffer one grief or one disappointment less. The prince's modest bearing and warm-hearted affection were enough to make everybody his friend, while the grace and the repose with which the part was acted were no less than delightful. The next marked achievement was "Dr. Jekyll and 140 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. Mr. Hyde," which was also played in Boston. A play full of horrors this was, of course; but what poetical horrors ! or, rather, what poetry was interspersed with the horrors ! There were storms of action ; but how fine were the calms, and how mournfully tender and prophetic were the moments when the storm was gath- ering ! Once Jekyll takes the hand of Agnes, and the two stroll away together talking about the stars above their heads. They are a picture of peaceful happiness. A few moments later the malignantly hideous face of Hyde is seen at the window. Who can see this con- trast, knowing that the two men are one, and not think of the difference between his own good and evil na- tures, and feel a lesson that is taught without precept or platitude ? The plan is reversed when Hyde leaves Mr. Utterson in the dark street to knock at the door through which he has disappeared and demand admis- sion, till it is opened, and there stands Dr. Jekyll, erect and tranquil, holding a light above his head. A volume might be written on the ethics of this play, but it would be superfluous. The play itself still lasts, and its mission is not done. " Prince Karl " had a long run at the Madison Square Theatre, New York, in the summer of 1886. Mr. Mansfield returned to the same theatre early the next summer, and repeated the same play. It ran for several weeks ; and then Mr. Mansfield produced his own play, " Monsieur." It was a slight and unsubstan- tial fabric, but of delicate texture. The story was sim- ple and touching, the acting of the leading part was graceful and finished, as usual, and the whole was dis- tinctly pleasing. After a few weeks more " Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde " was played for the first time in New RICHARD MANSFIELD. 14! York. It again met with great success, and brought the engagement to a happy close. An invitation from Henry Irving to Mr. Mansfield to occupy his theatre in London for some months pre- vented a summer engagement in New York in 1888. He began his season at the Lyceum Theatre, late in the summer, with " Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde." Later he gave " A Parisian Romance " and " Prince Karl." All of these created no small comment ; and the fero- cious wickedness of Mr. Hyde gained more attention than would perhaps have been the natural share, from the fact that two or three of the Whitechapel mur- ders were committed in Mr. Mansfield's early clays at the Lyceum. To make the list of plays complete, "Lesbia" should be added to it. This was a classical one-act piece, in which Miss Beatrice Cameron played the leading part, and Mansfield did not appear. Mr. Mansfield's great production of " King Richard III." took place at the Globe Theatre, London. It is seldom that a play of Shakespeare, or any one else, is presented with such care, such elaborateness, and such cost. Libraries and picture galleries and museums were searched for authority for the accurate costumes and arms and scenes. The result was a magnificent performance of the play as a whole, rich in thrilling action and pictures, and full of the feeling and spirit of the time. The version of the play was different from any that had before been used on the stage. It retained something from the third part of " King Henry VI.," and a little from Colley Gibber, but not so much as is common. In his own part Mr. Mans- field escaped from tradition by appearing as a young man in the first scene, and older as the play went on. 142 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. This great production was the leading subject of discussion among people interested in the drama in America for months before it was seen here. Mr. Mansfield returned, and played " Richard III." in Bos- ton late in the autumn of 1889, and gave it for the first time in New York at Palmer's Theatre, on Dec. 16. It was written about, talked about, lauded, and censured, as it had been in London ; but financially it was not a success. People came to see it in good numbers; and there never was, and never could be, any lack of interest on the part of the audiences. But the production was so costly that nothing less than crowded houses could support it, and these it did not have. After something over a month, it was taken from the stage, and some of Mr. Mansfield's former successes were substituted. The next summer Mr. Mansfield came to the Madi- son Square Theatre, according to his old custom, and, after a few weeks of some of his older plays, produced " Beau Brummel." He was always successful at this theatre, and now more than ever. He never had a part that fitted him better, and his acting of it was a matter of widespread fame on the very day after the first performance. For the whole summer and well into the autumn " Beau Brummel " crowded the house, and it then renewed its popularity in every city that the actor visited on his long winter tour. The next May saw Mansfield again in New York for a summer season, this time at the Garden Theatre, where he had already played a short engagement in the middle of the winter. He soon produced " Don Juan," a play written by himself. The view which he took of his hero's character was different from the tra- RICHARD MANSFIELD. 143 clitional one ; and he represented him as a happy and thoughtless boy, misguided by his parents, with the best intentions, and falling into error through mere heedlessness of any need of keeping out of it. The play was not successful ; and after a few weeks Mr. Mansfield returned to the standards of his repertory, "Prince Karl," "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde," "Beau Brummel," and " A Parisian Romance," still continu- ing "Don Juan " for a few performances each week. In September, three weeks before the engagement ended, "Nero," a tragedy by T. Russell Sullivan, was acted for the first time. It was produced with all the artistic beauty and exactness that had made "Richard III." so memorable. The central character was an- other of Mr. Mansfield's studies of various types of wickedness. In its essential qualities it was far re- moved from all of them, and it was as deeply consid- ered and truthfully interpreted as any. " Nero" was only moderately successful as compared with the most popular of Mr. Mansfield's productions. In February, 1892, also at the Garden Theatre, he pro- duced "Ten Thousand a Year;" and it was another failure. The following September he played a short engagement at Daly's Theatre, the important feature of which was the production of " The Scarlet Letter." Here, in the Rev. Arthur Dimmesdale, he found still a new variety of sinner ; and he gave his usual care and skill to the interpretation of it. With all that could be done for the play it was a gloomy affair, and nobody thought that it could possibly succeed. To the general astonishment, however, it did succeed ; and it remained popular in New York and elsewhere for a long time. In October, 1893, Mr. Mansfield made a fine revival 144 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. of "The Merchant of Venice " at Herrmann's Theatre, in New York, and in September, 1894, he opened the reconstructed Herald Square Theatre, with Bernard Shaw's " Arms and the Man." He closed his engage- ment at this house with what he called a public dress rehearsal of " Napoleon Bonaparte." This was a strange sort of entertainment, more resembling a series of Sun- day-school tableaux than a play ; but again, to the general surprise, Mr. Mansfield found it of use on his tour. It happened in the spring of 1895 that Edward Har- rigan, who had been suffering financial losses at his theatre in Thirty-fifth Street, New York, had a severe sickness, and felt obliged to give up his theatre alto- gether. Mr. Mansfield, who had long wanted a theatre in New York, took it off his hands, receiving a lease of it for ten years. He refitted, refurnished, and redec- orated it thoroughly, making of it one of the most beautiful and comfortable theatres in the city, and named it the Garrick Theatre. It was his intention to use it for a permanent company, of which he was, of course, to be the head, and to spend a large part of each season in New York. He opened the house in April, with " Arms and the Man." A few weeks later he produced " The King of Peru," which was a failure. Elaborate preparations were begun for the next sea- son ; but a short time before it was to open, Mr. Mans- field was taken dangerously sick. It was months before he was able to act again ; all his plans were overturned, and he was finally obliged to give up the management of the theatre. He did appear in it for a short time, in December, the only new play in which he was seen being "The Story of Rodion, the Student." In 1896 RICHARD MANSFIELD. 145 he completed arrangements for returning once more to acting " on the road." On Sept. 15, 1892, Mr. Mansfield married Miss Beatrice Cameron (Susan Hegeman), who had been the leading woman of his company for several years. Miss Cameron made her beginning as an actress in an amateur performance of " The Midnight Marriage," with Mrs. James Brown Potter. She afterwards played with Robert Mantell in "Called Back." The following is a complete, or nearly complete, list of the parts which she has played in Mr. Mansfield's company : Florence, in " Prince Karl ; " Alice, in " Monsieur ; " Agnes Carew, in "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde ; " Lucia, in "Don Juan ; " Acte, in " Nero ; " Tessy Tagrag, in " Ten Thousand a Year;" Hester Prynne, in "The Scarlet Letter ; " Mariana Vincent, in " Beau Brummel ; " Lady Anne, in " King Richard III. ; " Lesbia, in " Les- bia ; " Nora, in "A Doll's House ; " Marcelle and the ballet-dancer, in "A Parisian Romance;" Portia, in "The Merchant of Venice;" Raina, in "Arms and the Man;" Marie Louise, in "Napoleon Bonaparte;" Clara Desmond, in " The King of Peru ; " and Sonia, in " The Story of Rodion, the Student." ADA REHAN. BY EDWARD A. DITIIMAR. ADA REHAN, who for some fifteen years or more has been in the front rank of American actresses, and since 1884 has won for herself an equally prominent position on the London stage, for she is now as well-known to the theatre-goers of the British capital as to those of New York, was not born in the purple; and the honor she has achieved in her art came to her only after years of hard work. She did not find her path in the beginning strewn with roses ; she has fairly earned all her triumphs. Indeed, for an actress of this era, her term of appren- ticeship was unusually long and arduous. Miss Re- han studied faithfully, and learned all that practice and experience could teach. Her development was not extraordinarily rapid ; but when the time came she was found capable of taking a high place, and maintaining it with unswerving fidelity to artistic principle and steadily increasing power. She was like no other actress of her time ; though her portrayals of the heroines of poetic comedy and some of the old comedies of manners frequently recall to the minds of students of the stage the accounts of famous actresses of the past, written by the critics and 146 ADA REHAN. ADA RERAN. 147 poets and rhapsodists of their times. Miss Rehan is at once the Margaret Woffington and the Dora Jordan of this period ; many of the parts they played are in her repertory ; she has the buoyant grace, the archness of expression, the eloquence, the humor, and the radiant personal charm associated in the pages of theatrical history with those famous actresses. Her range is as broad as Woffington's, who, to be sure, played in tragedy, when tragedy was in its prime, and broader than Jordan's. Ada Rehan was born in Limerick, Ireland, April 22, 1860. The family name was Crehan. When Ada was five years old her parents came to the United States, and made their home in Brooklyn, N.Y., where she passed most of her childhood and received her school- ing. Both of her elder sisters took to the stage, adopt- ing the name of O'Neill, an honored one in theatrical history. Kate became the wife of Oliver Doud Byron, an actor of repute, while Harriet married R. Fulton Russell. At the age of fifteen years, Ada, who had previously shown no theatrical ambition and no partic- ular dramatic aptitude, acted a small part in the play called " Across the Continent," in which Mr. Byron was the principal performer, at Newark, N.J. This determined her career. That autumn she was briefly associated with Mr. Byron's company ; and then, for two seasons, she was engaged at the Arch Street Theatre, Philadelphia, under the management of Mrs. John Drew. Here she had valuable training, and acted a variety of small parts. Her novitiate on the stage was continued at Macau- ley's Theatre, Louisville, Ky., ami thereafter as a mem- ber of John W. Albaugh's company in Albany, N.V., 148 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. and Baltimore, Mel. In these positions she was thrown into association with the prominent star actors of that period. She appeared in tragedy, comedy, farce, ope- retta, and melodrama ; she began with minor parts, and rose to be "juvenile lead." She acquired experience, the capacity to study, self-posssession, and a knowledge of elocution, if not a finished style ; one thing is cer- tain, she acquired no offensive mannerisms, as many young actors do in this sort of work. She had very little to unlearn when she started fairly upon her career. A list of the parts played by Miss Rehan in these early days is worth preserving. This list is taken from one prepared by Mr. William Winter : ADELAIDE BONDS, " Our Oddities." AGNES CONSTANT, " Across the Con- tinent." ALICIA AUULEY, "Lady Audley's Se- cret." ANNE LEIGH, "Enoch Arden." AOUDA, " Around the World in Eighty Days." ARMINE, " Victor of Rh6." ARLINA, " Hero." BARBARA BENSON, "Poor arid Proud.'' BARBARA HARE, " East Lynne.'' BIANCA, " The Taming of the Shrew.'' BLANCHE DE NEVERS, "The Duke's Motto." BUNKER HILL, "The Danites." CELIA. " As You Like It." CLARA (her first part on the stage), " Across the Continent.'' CLARA WAKEFIILLD, " Luke, the La- borer." CORA DARLINGTON, " The False Light." CORDELIA, "King Lear." COUNTESS, "The Stranger." DESDEMONA, " Othello." DIANA CASTRO, " Two Men of Sandy Bar." DIANE DE LASCOUR, " The Sea of Ice." DRUDA, " The Ice Witch." ELIZABETH, "The Golden Farmer." ELOISE WOODRUFF, "Becky Mix." EMMA TORRENS; "Serious Family." ESTHER ECCLES, "Caste." ETHEL GRAINGF.R, " Married in Haste." EVA HILLINGTON, " Lone Man of the Ocean." FANNY ELKTON, " Zip." FIDELE LA CROSSE, " Heroine in Rags." FLORIDA VAUGHAN, " Bonnie Kate.'' GEORGETTE, " Fernande." GEORGIANA REKD, "Jane Eyre." GERTRUDE, " Ben McCullough." GRACE HARKAWAY, " London Assu- rance." GRACE ROSEBERRY, "The New Mag- dalen." HARRIET, "The Jealous Wife." HEBE, " Pinafore." ADA REHAN. I 49 ISSOPEL, " Tiote." JULIA LATIMER, " The Flying Scud." LADY ANNE, " Richard III." LADY JANE, "Crown of Thorns.'' LADY FLORENCE, " Kosedale.' 1 LADY SARAH, "Queen Elizabeth." LADY VALERIA, "All that Glitters." LAURA DE BEAUREPAIRE, "White Lies." LAURA CORTLANDT, " Under the Gaslight." LAURA HAWKINS, "The Gilded Age." LAURA LIVINGSTON, "Escaped from Sing Sing." JTTI.E EM'I.Y, " David Copperfield." -OUISE, " Cartouche." .OUISE, " Under the Snow." .OUISE, " Frou-Frou." .OUISE GOODWIN, " Across the Con- tinent." Lf KLINE, " Naiad Queen." MADEI.OS, "Carpenter of Kouen." MAPEI.O.N, " Fanchon." MAKI;I'KKITE LAKOJI;E, " Romance of a I'oor Young Man." MAKIK, " Marble Heart." M XKIE DK COM INKS, " Louis XI." MARIE HE MANCIM," Royal Youth." MARV CLARK, "Charter Oak." MARY XETLEY, "Ours." MARY WATSON, "Dick Turpin and Tom King." MATHILDE DE LATOUR, "Miss Mul- ton." M.\ i- D, " Musette." MORC.IANA, " Forty Thieves." MRS. CASTLKMAINE, "The Golden Calf." NAOMI TIC.IIE, "School." NiniETTE, "Camille." OLIVIA, " Twelfth Night." Oi-iiELiA, " Hamlet." 'AULINE, " Lady of Lyons." 'KARL CORTLANDT, " Under the Gaslight." 'it I LIN A, " Mignon." 'KINCE OF WALKS, " Richard III." RINTESS IDA, " I.orle." QTEEN ELIZAIIETII, " Mary Stuart." QUEEN OF FRANCE, " Henry V." ROSE, " Little Barefoot." ROSE FAI.LON, " Flash of Lightning." STELLA, " Enchantress." STELLA," Little Detective." SVIIIL HAWKER, " Brass." URSULA. " Much Ado." VIRGINIA, " Virginius." WINIFRED WOOD, Jack Shoppard." In the sprint; of 1879 Miss Rohan was, for a time, in the company of Fanny Davenport ; and in the play called " I'ique " she acted the small part of Mary Stan- dish for a week at the Grand Opera House, Now York. As a child she had appeared briefly at Wood's Musoum, the site of which is now occupied by Daly's Theatre; but this was practically her first appearance in Now York. Aujjustin Daly, who for nearly two years had been out of the field of theatrical management in Now York, returned from abroad that spring and produced at the Olympic Theatre on Hroadway an Knglish version I5O FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. of Zola's "L'Assommoir." In this play Miss Rehan appeared as Big Clemence, a role of small importance. So well did she play this part that she was shortly afterward advanced to the more important one of Vir- ginie. The next autumn she was engaged for the company of Daly's Theatre ; and she appeared the opening night, Sept. 17, as Nelly Beers in a little comedy called " Love's Young Dream," the first piece on the programme. The " Pinafore " craze was then uppermost in the minds of all theatrical managers. The musical play had an important place in the reper- tory of Daly's Theatre the first two seasons. In this Miss Rehan filled a subordinate place, but her extraor- dinary talent in comedy was soon manifested. She had a chance early in the first season in the grateful and vivacious part of Lu Ten Eyck in " Di- vorce ; " she played zealously the subordinate role of Isabelle in " Wives," an adaptation from Moliere by Bronson Howard ; she had a good part, though not the principal one, in Mr. Daly's own version of Von Moser's " Haroun al Raschid ; " and finally, toward the close of the season, she made a positively brilliant hit as Cherry Monogram in a comedy from the German called "The Way We Live." This was, indeed, the first revelation of her uncommon ability to deftly and daintily mingle humor and sentiment while preserving the simulation of high breeding and buoyant spirits. From this time on her progress in her art and her growth in the affection and esteem of her public were rapid. In the musical pieces she bore herself grace- fully and modestly as Donna Antonina ( " The Royal Middy"), Psyche ("Cinderella at School"), and Mut- tra (" Xanina"). In a single afternoon performance of ADA REHAN. 15! W. S. Gilbert's " Charity," she evinced remarkable power as the forlorn Ruth Tredgett, a type of woman- hood degraded, but not depraved. There was in this characterization, for the few who had the privilege of seeing it, a promise since amply fulfilled in Miss Rehan's forceful and pathetic acting in " Odette," "The Prayer," and certain scenes of "The Hunch- back ; " but her chief triumphs have been in pure com- edy, and her range has comprehended the lightest and merriest farce as well as the highest creations of poetic comedy. What play -goer of the eighties will ever forget that long list of joyous heroines in modern comedy from the German, beginning with Selina in " Needles and Pins," and including Phronie in " Dollars and Sense," Thisbe in " Quits," Telka in "The Passing Regiment," Tony in "Red Letter Nights," Barbee in "Our English Friend," Aphra in " The Wooden Spoon," Floss in "Seven-twenty-eight," Nisbe in "A Night Off," Nancy Brasher in "Nancy and Company," and Etna in "The Great Unknown " ? In modern comedy of a higher sort, who can forget the dignity and charm of her por- trayals of Annis Austin in " Love on Crutches," Val Osprey in " The Railroad of Love," Doris in " An International Match," Dina in " A Priceless Paragon," Vera in " The Last Word," and Mrs. Jassamine in " A Test Case " ? As the two radiant widows, Mrs. Osprey and the Baroness Vera, indeed, the breadth of Miss Rehan's acting, the depth of sentiment, and the variety of ex- pression she reveals, lift those parts almost to the level of some of her best portrayals in the poetic drama. These include Cibber's Donna Hypolitu, Knowles's 152 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. Julia, and in Shakespeare, Helena (" A Midsummer Night's Dream "), Katharine (" The Taming of the Shrew "), Rosalind (" As You Like It "), and Viola (" Twelfth Night "). Katharine the Shrew, Miss Re- han has made her own part ; and many good judges consider her the best of all living Rosalinds. The charm of her Viola is irresistible, and her delivery of the familiar passages in "Twelfth Night" is distin- guished by almost matchless skill and grace. The moods of Viola, indeed, seem to me to bring into view the best side of Miss Rehan's talent. Allied with this role in sentiment and poetic quality are the Helena of the "Dream," and Oriana in Farquhar's " Inconstant." Her Peggy Thrift in " The Country Girl " is in lighter vein, and its effect is wholly comic ; but it is one of her best-known and best-liked impersonations, and is a wonderfully facile and picturesque portrayal. Letitia, in a condensed version of " The Belle's Stratagem," and Miss Hoyden, in a sketch adapted from Vanbrugh's " Relapse," are in the same merry category. Miss Rehan's rich repertory also includes Sylvia in "The Recruiting Officer;" Lady Teazle, which she plays in the rustic manner first associated with the part of the country girl, who has just wedded a Lon- don old bachelor, by Mrs. Jordan ; Xantippe in J. H. McCarthy's English version of de Banville's " Femme de Socrate ; " and Tilburina in Sheridan's "Critic," a character which she carries with that perfect gravity essential to true burlesque. After 1884, when they made their first foreign tour, Miss Rehan, as leading actress of Mr. Daly's company, acted in old and new comedy in London during sev- eral seasons, and in 1890 and 1891 on the stage of ADA REHAN. 153 the Lyceum Theatre (Mr. Irving's). Daly's Theatre, Leicester Square, was opened in 1893. The critics and the playgoing public of London hold her in the highest esteem ; and her Katharine and Rosalind, in particular, were the themes of praise in verse and prose in the daily and weekly press, when those protrayals were first seen there. She has also appeared in Dub- lin, Edinburgh, and Glasgow, in the Memorial Theatre at Stratford-on-Avon, in Berlin and Hamburg, and in Paris. In short, her tall, graceful figure, expressive face, and melodious voice are as well known to-day in Europe as in America. Her change of position from chief actress in Mr. Daly's company to "star" under Mr. Daly's management has been simply a formal recognition of the rank her talents had won. JOHN DREW. BY JAMES S. METCALFE. OTHER conditions being the same, the public at large always takes a greater interest in a woman than in a man. In stage matters this is especially true; and no one knows it better than Mr. Augustin Daly, if we may judge by the trend of his didactic efforts. Among the graduates from his dramatic teaching stand out names like those of Agnes Ethel, Clara Morris, Sara Jewett, and Fanny Davenport ; but one looks almost in vain to find in his roll of honor the name of a man. This is said without disparagement to Mr. Daly's general methods. He has done so much to advance the standard of stage management and of dramatic ensemble in this country that every theatre-goer in America owes him a personal debt of gratitude. In the special effort, however, which looks to the educa- tion of the individual rather than the training of a company, Mr. Daly has shown emphatically his belief in the principle first stated. Almost alone, certainly most prominently, stands out the name of John Drew among the male actors who have come under Mr. Daly's influence. From the fact that many other young men have been Mr. Daly's pupils and yet have failed to achieve prominence, it is JOHN DREW. JOHN DREW. 155 fair to infer that some exceptional abilities belong to Mr. Drew. He has on his side whatever of value may lie in hereditary instinct and early association. In dramatic history there are so many instances of the effect of these causes in producing results, that we may safely consider them at least not a handicap. Ahead of him are three generations of stage people. His mother's many years' management of the Arch Street Theatre in Philadelphia brought him much into contact with the best people in the profession. Some one has truly said that no one can become a successful dramatist without first having inflated his lungs with the atmosphere of the green-room. On the same principle it assuredly helps the prospective actor to be born and brought up in constant contact with the people and affairs of the stage ; not necessarily for the knowledge it gives him of the detail and routine of professional work, but because to the proper spirit such association must needs bring the ambition and emulousness which will lead him to excel the deeds of others. It was here, at his mother's theatre, that Mr. Drew made his first appearance. It was in the old stock- company days, and Mrs. Drew's theatre was the lead- ing one of its class in Philadelphia. For weeks at a time the company might be engaged in the support of some peripatetic star, with six different performances each week; and at other times, when there happened to be no engagement of a star, the company itself sup- plied the performance. It was this routine which pro- duced the " good all-round actor," now so rapidly becoming extinct. In view of the general lamentation among some old-school people at the decadence of this 156 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. system, it may not be amiss to congratulate the public that it is no longer made the supporter of and the chief sufferer from the lessons of such a school. The fin- ished performances under the present system of stock- companies, established only in metropolitan theatres and "combinations " travelling through the country, are better than those of the days when parts were studied over night, and the performance given with one or two or three rehearsals by an over-worked company. The discipline might have been better for the young actors of those days, but it was certainly harder on their audiences. It was on March 22, 1873, that Mr. Drew became a member of the Arch Street Company, and made his first appearance as Plumper in " Cool as a Cucum- ber." After leaving school he devoted his attention to music, languages, fencing, and other accomplishments incidental to the varied requirements of general stage- work. He had none of the special training which the foreign conservatories delight in, that part of his educa- tion being left to the hard school of practical work in which he had now entered. It is not recorded that at his first appearance any remarkable signs were vouch- safed to indicate the bursting on the dramatic horizon of a great actor; but he acquitted himself creditably, considering that it was actually his first appearance on any stage, amateur or otherwise. His second appearance was as Hornblower in " The Laughing Hyena;" and to this succeeded such accom- plishments as Adolf de Courtroy in "The Captain of the Watch ; " Cummy, " Betsy Baker ; " Captain Cross- tree, " Black-eyed Susan ; " Dolly Spanker, " London Assurance;" Caspar, "Lady of Lyons;" Modas, "The JOHN DREW. 157 Hunchback ; " and so on through a long range of characters which gave the young actor more experi- ence than leisure. After two years of this work, in which he managed to acquire local popularity and reputation, he came to New York to join Mr. Augustin Daly's Fifth Avenue Theatre Company. During his first season in New York, Mr. Drew found himself going through some- thing the same course of training only in a higher line of work. That winter Mr. Daly revived a number of Shakespearian and other standard dramas, and the com- pany was kept thoroughly busy with rehearsals. Mr. Drew was assigned to such parts as Exton in " Richard II.;" Francois, "Richelieu;" Francis, "The Stran- ger ; " Glavis, " Lady of Lyons ; " and Hortensio in " The Taming of the Shrew." From this season on, Mr. Drew's rise was a rapid one to the position of leading juvenile in the best-trained company on the American stage. Of his well-known performances those which hold the most prominent place in the public mind are Orlando in " As You Like It," Adolphus Doubledot in "The Lottery of Love," Jack Mulberry in " A Night Off," and Petruchio in "The Taming of the Shrew," besides the leading char- acters (in which he has starred) of "The Masked Hall," "The Bauble Shop," and "Christopher Jr." Of Mr. Drew's individuality as an actor it is difficult to speak advisedly. While the artist was only one of the component parts of a company, his personal charac- teristics were of necessity kept largely in the back- ground in deference to the general harmony. In the polite comedies, which formed the largest part of Mr. Daly's stock in trade, Mr. Drew strongly emphasized 158 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. the first requirement of his parts ; that is, their gentil- ity. The actors on the American stage who can as- sume the part of a gentleman, and not vary from it through the ordeal of dramatic broadening, are so few that when we once find the power it is noticeable by contrast. Next it may be said of Mr. Drew that he secures his effects largely by suggestion. He leaves just enough to the spectator's imagination to flatter his intelligence, and thus secure perfect sympathy between actor and audience. Overacting is so ordinary a fault, that the actor who lets the hearer's imagination do part of the acting for him possesses a quality which is thoroughly artistic in itself, and, from its rarity, especially valuable on our stage. A lack of versatility is hardly to be expected from Mr. Drew's training in one way, but it is his chief fault. It should be remembered, however, that until recently he was to a certain extent in leading strings. Those who witnessed his performances of Petruchio, the part which gives his artistic powers their greatest opportunity, were ready to believe that, with the field open to him, with full chance to use his own ideas, Mr. Drew could show unexpected abilities. In conclusion, Mr. Drew may be set down as being the most polished juvenile actor on our stage to-day. JULIA MARLOWE AS IMOGEN. JULIA MARLOWE-TABER. BY EUWAKD FULLER. MORE than one person will recall with feelings of grateful pleasure a certain December evening in the year 1888. The scene was the Hollis Street Theatre in Boston, and the event was the first appearance in that city of a young and unknown actress. It was not a large audience which had gathered for the occasion. It takes a great amount of what is called "puffing " to excite public interest in the young and unknown ; and in this case the aspirant for dramatic honors came almost unheralded. She had made her bow in a single afternoon performance in New York, and after that had been known to fame only vaguely. She had just played an engagement in Philadelphia with steadily increasing approbation. Colonel Robert G. Ingersoll had written a glowing letter in her praise. But these things stirred curiosity only faintly. Did we not all know how often stage swans turned out to be geese ? That evening settled the question, with those who saw her, of the right, by ability and inspiration, of Miss Julia Marlowe to challenge thoughtful and candid crit- icism. Her acting betrayed the faults of youth and inexperience; but it also showed that she possessed the genuine artistic temperament, without which study and 59 I6O FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. training are vain. Miss Marlowe conquered almost from the outset the natural and usually justifiable pre- judice against those who begin at the head rather than at the foot of the ranks. Even genius itself seldom springs into .life full-fledged, like Pallas Athene from the brain of Zeus. But it was obvious that if Miss Marlowe did not give the sure promise of a noble artis- tic future, she displayed very many gifts which en- couraged one to hope for the best. Her grace, her delicacy, her refinement, her insight, seemed only to await the ripening process of time. And as Parthenia, which was the character she chose to portray, was there not already much that was thoroughly and exquisitely winning? Her slender figure, instinct with girlish grace ; her well-shaped, well-poised head ; her dark eyes, shining with the mute eloquence of a clear and sensitive soul, did not these reach one's ideal of maidenly beauty and purity ? It was not an ideal Parthenia, because even ingen- uousness and sensibility cannot be communicated to the mind of another by every one who possesses them. But possibly there was never a Parthenia which gave greater promise. It was honest ; it was sincere ; it was free from self-consciousness and mannerism. One could overlook the occasional crudeness of execution in the beauty of conception. "Ingomar" is not a good play ; it is tedious, and it abounds in that vapid senti- mentality characteristic of the German mind. I would rather sit through a performance of one of Mr. Hoyt's ingenious farces than see it again. For all that, it became interesting to me with Miss Marlowe as the heroine. From that evening I, for one, never doubted her ultimate success. JULIA MARLOWE-TABER. l6l Biography in this case must happily be brief. Miss Marlowe's career is all before her, and I touch lightly upon the past. She was born late in the sixties in the north of England, in a little town some twenty-five miles from Carlisle. Cumberland is not the most fer- tile shire south of the Tweed ; often for miles the eye is met only with picturesque barrenness. But in Julia Marlowe's case we cannot ask what influence surround- ings such as these may have had upon her career. She was but five years old when she came to the United States. By training, therefore, she is an American. Her education was gained in our public schools ; her training for the stage was domestic, not foreign. We may therefore fairly claim the undis- puted possession of her genius and her glory. She is as much ours as any of the distinguished artists who adorn our dramatic annals have been. Like many of these, she saw the footlights when she was still a child. For two seasons she travelled with a juvenile opera company, playing in "Pinafore" and other popular works of the kind. A little later she was "on the road " with Miss Josephine Riley. She was then in- trusted with parts so important as that of Maria in "Twelfth Night"; and she played Balthasar in "Ro- meo and Juliet" and Stephen in "The Hunchback." Fortunately, perhaps, for her progress in her art, she withdrew for a time from active work for the purpose of individual study and discipline. Mow faithful and thorough this training must have been can easily be understood. It was after six weeks of a short and inconspicuous tour in the early months of 1888 that Miss Marlowe really began her career upon the stage. That career has been throughout a peculiarly success- 1 62 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO DAY. ful one. Wherever Miss Marlowe has once won popu- larity she has retained it. The same audiences greet her year after year as she goes from city to city, and in these audiences the number of cultivated people is unusually large. The character of the plays she pre- sents is one reason for this, for it is not often in these days that the theatre appeals to the intellectual part of man. Another reason is the character of the company which supports the leading player ; from the beginning it has been of unusual merit. The accession to this company of Mr. Robert Taber, to whom Miss Marlowe was not long ago married, has greatly added to its strength. Indeed, the husband and wife, both young, both clever, both more than ordinarily earnest, both sincere in their devotion to their art, have an opportu- nity to establish for themselves a place on the American stage of commanding influence, of potent usefulness. Criticism, too, must be limited in the case of one whose career, or the best part of it, is still to come. It would be impossible, under such circumstances, to sum up adequately every phase of Miss Marlowe's genius. We may say that the genius is unquestioned, that it has already revealed its weakness as well as its strength, its defects as well as its merits. We may discover in what she has achieved the epitome of her possible achievement. And yet the final estimate re- mains for the future to pronounce let us hope the far distant future. In these pages it will be sufficient to glance in swift succession at some characters which Miss Marlowe has so far portrayed, and to draw from these results what deductions one may, both as to the present value of her art and the potency of its promise. There is little similarity between the characters of JULIA MARLOWE-TABER. 163 Parthenia and Galatea ; yet for purposes of illustration there are several points in which an impersonation of the one may be compared with an impersonation of the other. Both are pseudo-classical ; the phrase does not hit my meaning exactly, but I can think of none more definite. But whereas " Ingomar " takes pseudo-clas- sicism seriously, and presents us our Greek subject sicklied o'er with the pale cast of German sentimentality, " Pygmalion and Galatea " uses the old myth merely as a convenient vehicle for modern satire, and grants us our humorous hypothesis at the outset. One need not pursue the argument further to discover the immense superiority, both dramatically and intellectually, of Mr. Gilbert's method. What is important to remember is the fact that, while girlish sweetness and gentle pathos go far to compose a satisfactory Parthenia, many quali- ties immensely more difficult of portrayal enter into the composition of Galatea. The superficial simplicity of the part is a potent trap for a young artist. Miss Mar- lowe's Parthenia is a charming creation ; but it is al- most an inevitable corollary of this statement to say that her Galatea is inadequate. The very qualities which create success in one case help to determine failure in the other. Her Galatea is, in fact, just a little too seri- ous. It is often graceful and winning, but it lacks the salt of humor. Yes, some one will say, but Galatea her- self had no sense of humor to speak of. Precisely ; it takes a plentiful supply of a given quality to portray its deficiency. I do not mean by this that Miss Marlowe has no appreciation of Gilbert's exquisite satire ; it is probably quite the other way. The art of acting, how- ever, lies beyond the mere intellectual impulse. After one understands, one must feel ; even Diderot's famous 164 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. Paradoxe does not fairly contradict this condition. Miss Marlowe may understand Galatea, but she never loses herself in the character. She constructs her im- personation from without, not from within. This limitation in Miss Marlowe's emotional range is discoverable in two Shakespearian impersonations which are otherwise thoroughly charming. I refer, of course, to her Rosalind and her Viola. Both reach the ideal in many respects ; and both fall short of it in other respects because of her lack of humor and the variety which humor gives. I do not wish, however, to emphasize this point, since to do so might obscure the decided merits in Miss Marlowe's work. Her concep- tion of Rosalind is in the main true ; although she often suggests, rather than realizes, that bewitching but diffi- cult creation. She has buoyancy enough, but not quite the spirit of breezy mirth that carries Rosalind trium- phantly through her mad freak. This deduction once made, praise is easy. Miss Marlowe takes the per- fectly sane and intelligible view that Rosalind is exquisitely feminine, despite her assumption of "a swashing and a martial outside." Her attire is pri- marily her defence, rather than a license to play the hoyden. There is not a false or mawkish strain in her nature ; her spirits are under no heavy cloud ; she laughs her troubles off. And yet Shakespeare did not leave us without an intimate conviction of her exquisite womanliness ; she loses that boyish courage, and grows faint with a sense of physical repulsion, when she sees the bloody napkin. If Miss Marlowe falls a little short of the mirth of the part, surely she portrays with a finely beautiful touch its other qualities. Of Miss Marlowe's Viola it is a pleasure to speak JULIA MARLOWE-TABER. 165 in well-nigh unqualified commendation. The humor of Viola, except in a single scene, is so closely akin to pathos that we should naturally expect Miss Marlowe to give it adequate expression. It is, as Viola her- self says, a " smiling at grief." In all the lighter phases of emotion through which she passes we discern the woman's heart beating with hopeless love. Even the amusement which Olivia's sudden passion at first arouses is quickly transmuted into pain. " Poor lady, she were better love a dream." All this "frailty," as she calls it, is pitiful; it is too hard a knot for her to untie. Upon some such key-note as this Miss Marlowe pitches her impersonation ; and its tender grace, its pathetic delicacy, are admirable. I am not sure that it is not to be called her most nearly perfect work. The poorest scene in it is that of the duel with Sir Andrew ; which goes to sustain my point that Miss Marlowe's chiefest lack is humor. But fault-finding with anything so nearly ideal seems peculiarly ungracious. Let us rather accept gratefully a sweet and maidenly and es- sentially poetical rendering of one of Shakespeare's most sympathetic characters. I might have added a third Shakespearian imper- sonation as showing in a more striking fashion than either of those I have mentioned the limitations of Miss Marlowe in the direction of humor. This is her Prince Hal in " Henry IV., first shown to us in 1895-1896." It was a serious mistake on her part, I think, to try to play a role like this one where her strength could not be shown, but where her weak- ness would be always in evidence. The Prince is exu- berantly masculine ; and no woman can represent this quality properly, least of all a dainty and refined woman I 66 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. like Miss Marlowe. But it is ungracious to dwell upon a flat failure, and I hope that Miss Marlowe will not hereafter attempt the impossible. The sprightly but conspicuously feminine Miss Hardcastle is more nearly within her range, and this impersonation justly pleases by its arch grace and tender gayety. But there is one thing lacking; and this neither Miss Marlowe nor any other young actor, I think, is likely to acquire. It is what must be called, for want of a better phrase, the grand comedy manner. We find it in the few remain- ing actors of the "old school," but it must soon be- come a tradition. To explain just what I mean by the grand comedy manner, or to point out its necessary connection with the school of comedy which gave rise to it, is an impossibility here. Old theatre-goers will know what I mean without any explanation. Of some other impersonations by Miss Marlowe, it is not ne- cessary to speak. In Chatterton, in Pauline, and in various experimental essays in acting, she has done nothing that presents her art in a new aspect. In the portrayal of passion, too, Miss Marlowe still leaves something to be desired ; and so her Julia in "The Hunchback," which requires both humor and passion, is on the whole the least satisfactory of her impersonations. This leads us by a natural sequence of thought to the consideration of her Juliet, dis- tinctly a character of passion. Before we undertake to analyze either, however, it will be convenient to say a word about her Imogen, a character more closely al- lied with Viola, but not to my mind half so interest- ing. It must be said at the outset that to portray Imogen effectively requires a greater maturity of method than Miss Marlowe can yet be expected to pos- JULIA MARLOWE-TABER. 167 sess. Imogen is a study in wifely devotion. She is one upon whom the cares and griefs of life have left their indelible mark. "There cannot be a pinch in death more sharp" than the sufferings which she has to bear. Her love is strong as death, but the jealousy of Posthumus is cruel as the grave. The shameful charge preferred against her is a blow under which her whole nature reels. In the phrase of Pisanio, " the paper hath cut her throat already ;" no other misery is possible to a proud and faithful woman thus outraged in all her deepest sensibilities. Perhaps the character is one not capable of the most effective handling upon the stage. Be that as it may, no actress in this part has ever moved me as I feel I ought to be moved. There is much that is pretty, much that is pathetic, in Miss Marlowe's work; and one sees the chance of further spiritual growth. But for the present it re- mains a sketch rather than a completed portrait. I come now to speak of the most difficult character which Miss Marlowe has essayed, that of Juliet. "Although I joy in thec, I have no joy of this contract to-night ; It is too rash, too unadvis'd, too sudden ; Too like the lightning, which doth cease to l>e Ere one can say ' It lightens.' " In these words of Juliet's, spoken to Romeo in the moonlit mystery of the balcony in Capulet's orchard, lies the key-note of the imperishable tragedy of Shake- speare's youth. It is the history of a swift, mad passion, blighting two lives, entangled through no fault of their own in the inextricable meshes of Fate ; and it is fit- ting that in the first melody of love there should be 1 68 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO DAY. an undertone of profound sadness. " Romeo and Ju- liet " is, as Professor Dowden says, "a young man's tragedy, in which Youth and Love are brought face to face with Hatred and Death." In this, it seems to me, is to be found the chief difficulty in playing either Romeo or Juliet. To reach the eye the actors must be young ; to reach the imagination, they must, almost of necessity, be no longer young. "Ich habe gelebt und geliebet " is a confession which savors of the bit- terness worse than death; and the Theklas who can sing it cannot say it. The well-worn maxim that no actress can impersonate Juliet until she is too old to look the part has a melancholy degree of truth. But Miss Marlowe brings to this difficult task many gifts, both of nature and of training. If she be lacking in passion, she has, nevertheless, almost every other qualification in an ideal measure. In the lighter phases of the character she is admirable. The delicacy, grace, and tenderness of her first meeting with Romeo ; the virginal sweetness and beauty of her confession of love for him, as she leans from the balcony beneath the glimpses of the moon ; the indomitable faithful- ness by virtue of which she clings to him in the face of harsh reproof and of the promptings of the vulgar soul at her elbow ; the awful forebodings of that dis- mal scene which she needs must act alone, these and other phases of that inexpressibly sad and touching his- tory are exquisitely portrayed. And it is all delight- fully spontaneous and untheatrical. But force the burning force of passion is wanting. There is power to conceive ; the lack is felt in the execution, espe- cially in the ardent scenes with Romeo, and in the final tragedy in the tomb of the Capulets. It would JULIA MARLOWE-TABER. 169 be surprising, indeed, if Miss Marlowe could yet real- ize so imminently vital a character as Juliet. But she goes so far in the right direction that I, for one, am hopeful of seeing her yet the foremost Juliet of her time. The doubt lies in her capacity for the expres- sion of passion. Of her genius for the poetic drama there can be no denial. I will not pretend, in this brief sketch, to sum up Miss Marlowe's abilities as an artist, or to say what turn for the better or worse her still nascent genius may take. It is an inevitable condition in writ- ing of one whose career is still before her that much must be left unsaid. That she shows greater promise than any artist who has come among us since Adelaide Neilson died is to my mind unquestionable. That she is still open to the influences of study and experience is also happily true. Miss Marlowe unites modesty with ambition, and openness of mind with persever- ance. There is apparently little danger that her nature will cease to expand, and that she will become in con- sequence mannered and merely technical. Further- more, she adds to striking attractiveness of person the charm of a cultivated and musical voice. With her the poetic drama is still poetry. If to such sensibility, such earnestness, such appreciation of the beautiful, is added the crown of further artistic perfection, what triumphs may we not anticipate for her in the future? JOHN GILBERT. BY STEPHEN FISK.E. JOHN GILBERT is usually spoken of as " an actor of the old school." But, in fact, no methods could be more modern than his were ; and certainly no fin de sihle star ever sprang more suddenly, at a single bound, from the counter to the stage, from dry goods to the green-room. Born at Boston, Feb. 27, 1810, John Gilbert made his theatrical itibnt in his nineteenth year, as Jaffier in "Venice Preserved," to the Belvidera of that great but forgotten actress, Mary Duff, at the Tremont Theatre. His next characters were Sir Edward Mortimer in " The Iron Chest," and Shylock in the " Merchant of Venice." Could the most ambitious aspirant of the new school have begun any younger and any nearer the top of the ladder ? Next door to the Atkins house in Richmond Street, Boston, where Gilbert was born, lived Charlotte Cush- man ; and the future actress and actor were playmates. Gilbert lost his father in early boyhood, and was edu- cated at the public schools, and then taken as a clerk in a dry-goods store by his uncle. At school he had been praised for his declamation, and this inspired him with the desire for the stage. He joined the Tre- 170 JOHN GILBERT AS SIR PETER TEAZLE. JOHN GILBERT. IJI mont Company clandestinely, and was almost broken down, on his first night, at the sight of his uncle glar- ing at him from a private box. The next day his mother besought him to return to the dry-goods busi- ness, and even followed him into the green-room of the theatre to forbid his reappearance. But he already felt his vocation, and insisted upon fulfilling his engage- ment. Having begun at the top of the ladder, John Gilbert had the extraordinary common sense to begin again at the bottom, and climb up step by step. After the season of 1828 at the Tremont, he went to the Camp-street Theatre, New Orleans, under Manager Caldvvell, and served an apprenticeship for five years, playing all sorts of parts. At nineteen he was cast for old men ; and, though he at first revolted, he gradually became convinced that this line was his true specialty, and he seldom deserted it after his majority. Here was a change from Jaffier and Mortimer! Hut during his provincial studies he experienced a more important change, from tragedy to comedy. Like most other comedians, he fancied himself a tragedian ; and he often said that, like Burton, he was cured of this delusion by accident. During his engagement in the South he was indignant when cast for comedy characters ; but his success in them determined his career. Returning from New Orleans to Boston, in 1834, nc made his r'cntrfc as Old Dornton in "The Road to Ruin," for the benefit of George Barrett, a local favo- rite, and was at once engaged by Manager Barry for the rebuilt Tremont Theatre. For two seasons he played almost everything, from Master Walter to Isaac FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. of York, from Macduff to Squeers, from Polonius to Tom Noddy. Then he became the stage-manager ; then appeared at the old Bowery, New York, as Peter Bradley, the sexton, in " Rookwood ; " then accepted brief engagements at the National and Federal Street Theatres, Boston, and in April, 1846, took a pleasure trip to Europe. In London the real school of John Gilbert was found, the English school. Old Farren was then the leader of the London stage, " the only cock salmon in the market," as he used to express it, and upon him John Gilbert modelled his style. American players seldom go abroad to act, but they always take their stage wardrobes with them. Gilbert went to Europe for a vacation ; but he was asked to appear at the Princess's Theatre as Sir Robert Bramble in " The Poor Gentleman," and was so applauded by the public and the critics that he remained for a whole season, including an engagement with Macready. During his visits to Paris he managed to see Rachel, Lafont, Fechter, and the grand Frederic Lemaitre ; and he learned the French art of expressing emotion by re- pressing it. Now thirty-eight years old, a finished actor, grad- uated in London and Paris, with no rivals on either side of the Atlantic, except William Warren and Rufus Blake, as first old man, John Gilbert came home to appear at the famous Park Theatre, New York, as Sir Anthony Absolute. As Admiral Kingston in " Naval Engagements " he spoke the last words ever uttered on the stage of the old Park, which was destroyed by fire Dec. 16, 1848. He was then engaged by Mana- ger Tom Hamblin for the Bowery Theatre; and in the JOHN GILBERT. 173 same company were Lester Wallack, Mary Taylor, and J. W. Wallack, Jun. Until 1854 Gilbert divided his seasons between the stock companies of the Bowery, the Howard Athe- naeum, Boston, and the Chestnut Street, Philadelphia. At the opening of the Boston Theatre he delivered the poetical address written by T. W. Parsons, and stayed for four seasons with his old manager, Thomas Barry. A service of silver was presented to him by public subscription at one of his annual benefits. Bottom and Caliban increased his reputation as an actor of exquisite humor. He left the Boston Theatre, in 1858, for the Arch Street, Philadelphia, where he remained until, in 1862, the elder Wallack summoned him to New York to play Sir Peter Teazle at the new Wai- lack's Theatre (later the Star) on the corner of Thir- teenth Street and Broadway. This was John Gilbert's true dcbnt in New York. Old things had passed away. His previous perform- ances at the Bowery and the Park had been forgotten. A new generation had arisen who knew not the great actors of the past. The Civil War, just beginning, was to become a deep gulf between theatrical as well as national epochs. It was Gilbert's opportunity, and he seized it. Surrounded by the best comedians in the country, Blake, Holland, Wallack, Sefton, Sloane, Mrs. Vernon, Mrs. Hoey, Mary Gannon, he proved himself worthy to rank with them. From 1861 to 1888, when Wallack's Theatre ceased to exist, he continued to be a leading member of the stock company ; and for him the special position of acting-manager distinct from Treasurer Moss and Stage-manager Floyd was created, as an excuse for giving him an extra salary. I 74 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. In 1878 Gilbert's fiftieth year on the stage was cele- brated by a banquet at the Lotos Club, Nov. 30, and a benefit matintc performance at Wallack's Theatre, Dec. 5. Hon. Whitelaw Reid presided at the ban- quet; and among the professionals present were John Brougham, John McCullough, William Davidge, Harry Beckett, W. R. Floyd, Junius Booth, and Lester Wai- lack, all long since dead. For his benefit appeared Maude Granger, Eben Plympton, Charles Leclercq, Rose Osborne, Harry Eytinge, and Ben Maginley in "Almost a Life;" Dion Boucicault, Agnes Booth, Charles Stevenson, and Stella Boniface in " Kerry ; " Lester Wallack and Ada Dyas in " A Morning Call ; " Rose Coghlan, Charles Coghlan, and Charles Barron in the screen scene from " The School for Scandal ; " Mr. and Mrs. J. C. Williamson in "The Chinese Ques- tion ; " Birch and Backus in " Society Actors ; " George Knight recited ; Tom Baker and Henry Tissington led the orchestra. Gilbert's address on this golden wed- ding anniversary of his union with the stage was a masterpiece of eloquence. When he said, " During these fifty years I have seen moving two great proces- sions of friends, one coming upon the stage to play their brief parts, the other passing silently away," there were audible signs of emotion among the pro- fessional audience. No doubt John Gilbert's life was shortened by the failure of Wallack's up-town theatre (now Palmer's). His heart was in it, and he died within a month after its final performance. He said of it (May 29, 1889) : " Last night closed thirty-five years of Wal- lack's Theatre. The end is sad. I fear to say it was inglorious. He was the last actor-mana George Clarke. PACE Louis James. WILLIAM PACE Miss Jennie Yeamans. SIR HUGH EVANS Wm. Davidge. HOST OF THE GARTER INN Owen Fa-wcett. DR. CAIUS \V. J. Le Moyne. BARDOLIMI /. .-/. Mackey. PISTOI George Je I'ere. NVM /. H. Burnett. ROBIN Mis Gcrty .\'oru'ootl. SIMPLE v . . \Vn . Reckman. Ml STRESS FORI> Mis Fanny Daren fort. MISTRESS PACE \fis Fanny Morant. MISPRESS ANNE PAC:-: Mis Sara Jewell. MISTRESS QUICKLY Mrs. G. //. Gilbert. SERVANTS to PACE and FORD, FAIRIES, etc. Mr. Fisher's assumption of the part of the fat knight was looked upon as a very important event in all dramatic circles, particularly as it followed so quickly upon the death of Mr. J. II. Hackett (Dec. 28, 1871), the greatest American Falstaff of modern times ; and it attracted to the Twenty-fourth Street Theatre, not only the habitual crowds of the day, but 2l8 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. theatre-goers of a past generation, who were rarely seen before the curtain, those dreamers of the past, who only talk and think of " other and palmy days." This revival of "The Merry Wives " was one of the most creditable to the management of Mr. Daly that has taken place in any of his several Fifth Avenue Theatres during his long career. In all of the lesser parts it was well played, particularly by Mr. Lewis as Slender, Mr. Whiting as Shallow, Miss Davenport as Mistress Ford, and that then precociously clever child, Jennie Yeamans, as young William Page. It was not to be expected of course that any actor, no matter how careful his study and intelligent his conception, should after a few rehearsals, or even after one or two seasons' performances, have been immense as Falstaff. It is not a part to which any man is born, but which every man who attempts it must make himself by hard and conscientious work. Mr. Fisher had the proper intellectual conception of the knight's character; he made him the sensual rogue, the bully, the braggart, the cowardly, witty, worldly old repro- bate, whom everybody laughs at and with, whom no- body respects, and still whom everybody is forced to like. Mr. Fisher, however, by nature refined and deli- cate in his sensibilities, was prone to refine his Falstaff too much, and to keep too much in the background of his picture the predominant coarseness and brutal instincts of the character he painted; still, his Fal- staff, when it became mellow with age and bettered by practice, was a notable performance. It is only to be regretted that he had few opportunities to profit by experience in the part. After a successful run of three weeks, the comedy was withdrawn. CHARLES FISHER. 219 During the next few years Mr. Fisher was occa- sionally cast in characters worthy of his abilities, Triplet, Sir Peter Teazle, Don Armado in " Love's Labor's Lost," Jaques in "As You Like It," Graves in "Money," Kent, Gaunt, and Polonius first time Oct. 25, 1875; but too frequently his name was not on the bills at all, or else he was seen in society plays of the French and modern schools, sensational, emo- tional, and improbable, in which the chief merit seems to be beautiful toilets, and the great attraction wonder- ful upholstery. If Mr. Fisher was not placed in a position to accom- plish great things himself, he did at all events, in his own careful and creditable way, assist at the accom- plishment of great things by other people. When Miss Bijou Heron made her very clever tttbitf, April 14, 1874, in " Monsieur Alphonse," a play from the French of the younger Dumas, Fisher was very pleasant to hear and to look upon as the bluff, blunt, honest old sailor, who was the only person of principle and with moral sentiment in the piece. He was an excellent Fagan when Miss Davenport surprised even her friends by her admirable impersonation of Nancy Sikes, with Louis James for William and Bijou Heron as Oliver Twist (first produced there May 19, 1874); and when Louis James made his first hit as Vorick in a tragedy of that name taken from the Spanish, and played on Dec. 5, 1874, a bit of acting so good that it was be- yond the comprehension of the average play -goer, and not properly appreciated even by many of the profes- sional critics themselves, Fisher as Shakespeare, man- ager of the Blackfriars Theatre, created at least a sensation. Made up carefully after the Stratford bust, 22O FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. with forehead preternaturally high and bumpy, in suit of sober brown, looking wise beyond human conception, he walked the boards, and uttered proverbial philosophy in well-turned and true-piled lines, as the Immortal (in the original Spanish) is supposed to have carried him- self, but as the delight and wonder of our stage before he dreamed of his immortality certainly never did. The fault, however, was in the play, not in the acting of it ; and Fisher, in return for all that Shakespeare had done for him, did, and conscientiously, all he could for Shakespeare. He was one of the very few men in America in this generation in whom the mere assump- tion of such a part would not seem irreverent or pro- fane, always a well-graced actor, good in everything. E)uring the latter years of Mr. Fisher's life he was rarely seen upon the stage, and when he did appear his physical weakness and his advancing years were pain- fully evident to those who had known and loved him in his prime. He was cast by Mr. Daly for Sir Peter Teazle, for the Parson in Pinero's " Squire," and for Jaques and Adam in "As You Like It." His last appearance was made in this last part, Adam, at the London Lyceum in the summer of 1890, when he quietly retired forever from the profession which he had so long adorned. He died in the city of New York on the nth of June, 1891, and in his seventy-fifth year. CHARLES R. THORNE, JR. CHARLES R. THORN E, JR. BY A. M. PALMER. THE career of Charles R. Thorne, Jr., in the full de- velopment of his powers, and exercising the best nat- ural methods of dramatic expression, began and ended with the Union Square Theatre ; and the full identity of the actor with the house under my management for pretty much the whole period has left with me an abid- ing and tender recollection of him. His genius in* volved a good deal of brusqueness, and, it is not unfair to say, moments of perversity ; and his individuality was strong enough to leave behind him a store of anec- dotes. I am quite sure that no leading actor of a stock company in New York was more impressive in his time, or is better remembered in the records of the stage. Charles Thorne came of a theatrical family; and, im- bued with the traditions and training of the old school, he continued to act under their influence up to the time he manifested himself in a new power and under other conditions at the Union Square Theatre. I It- was born in New York City, March 10, 1840. When quite young he was apprenticed or engaged to a Mr. Boyce to learn the trade of the silversmith, antl served for about six months. The desire to become an actor getting strong in him, his father took him to San Fran- 222 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OK TO-DAY. cisco, where he had assumed the management of the American Theatre. Thome's education had been obtained, with others of the young members of the family, at the Cathedral School in Montreal, and for a while at St. John's Col- lege in New York. His schooling, therefore was not very extensive, yet he showed no lack in after years of that information and accuracy that belong to the adequately trained man. In point of fact, he was fond of discussing questions of moment in literature, his- tory, the drama, and the like. Being a man of inde- pendence, he naturally had views of his own, views that were marked at least with vigor. He loved to gather about him, at his home and his table, men of thought, and in this way formed intimacies with Robert Inger- soll and others. It is worth while noting that he was go strong in his likes and dislikes that there was no concealment of either with him. He was absolute and peremptory in this respect, and had no compromise with people that did not please him. It may be a trifling detail to record, but it was one of the curious points in his character that he was easily bored ; and yet, like the severe Edwin Forrest in his intimacy with the minstrel Christy, he would find diversion at times with ordinary but volatile people. Thome had certain good qualities in his relation as an actor with the public. He was not a poser. He was domestic. He cared little for criticism, and was never aroused but once, when the critic of the Herald became personal, whereupon he administered a very severe physical rebuke to the offender. So little theat- ric was he that it was not always that he could be got to rehearse in detail. He was not conventional in his CHARLES R. THORNE, JR. 223 habits of study, did not resort to the looking-glass as an aid. He was not in the habit of talking at home of his parts, and in every way preserved an individuality and domesticity apart from the boards. This had its bearing on his naturalness and on the strength of his reserve power. It is proper to say that with all his brusqueness owing in large measure in his latter days to the encroach of his subtle disease and the approaching and really unexpected collapse he was a generous man. It is told of him in his family that he more than once brought unfortunate fellow-actors to his house; and when his shabby guest would emerge, he would be transformed in raiment belonging to the more fortunate actor, and with some money in his pockets in keeping with his new state. Such are a few details that may help to show the value in a player of genuine qualities and a strong individuality as possessed by Charles Thorne. In the volumes of manuscript, photographic and other valuable and minute material that I have pre- served in the Record of the Union Square Theatre, may be found many interesting anecdotes of Thorne. These volumes, ten or twelve in number, contain auto- biographies in the manuscript of all those concerned under my management of the theatre, the whole inlaid after the best method in vogue, and constituting as minute and unique a history as it has been the fortune of any period of dramatic history to have. After leav- ing my possession they will serve in some public insti- tution The Actors' Fund perhaps to preserve the memory of the old Union Square Theatre. Thome's first appearance is established as Master George Shelby in " Uncle Tom's Cabin " in 1854. In 224 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. a letter written to me concerning him, his father says that he displayed but small ability at first, and relates an anecdote of his confusion in delivering a simple message in the " Hunchback," a case of ordinary stage- fright. Indeed, Charles Thome's earlier efforts fur- nished a good deal of good-humored chaffing in the family. A little later his name appeared in the bills of Purdy's National Theatre in New York; and in 1858 he travelled with George Pauncefort's Company, a well-known organization, through the New England States. In 1860 he was at Niblo's Garden in the stock, and in the next year ventured to the West Indies in the company of J. W. Lanergrarf. Two years were then spent under Maguire in San Francisco, during which time, in 1864, he took a company of his own to China and Japan for a short tour. It was only in 1866, at Maguire's, that he established himself as leading man ; and from 1866 to 1869 he maintained himself in that capacity at the Boston Theatre, going from there to S^lvvyn's, from which theatre he was brought to play Tom Broughton in " Formosa >J ' in New York. In 1870-1871 he was the leading man with Mrs. Scott-Siddons, playing Courtenay in " 'Twixt Axe and Crown," Orlando, Romeo, and Claude Melnotte. For a while he was at the Varieties in New Orleans, and from 1871 to 1873 at the Chestnut Street Theatre, Philadelphia. As an instance of his sturdy indepen- dence, it may be mentioned that in 1872, in a play at Niblo's entitled "Black Friday," he threw up his part after one performance, upon hearing that his charac- ter was aimed at Edward S. Stokes, then fresh in his notoriety in New York. CHARLES R. THORNE, JR. 225 Such is a brief resume of the work of Charles Thome before he came under my management. He was known up to that time as a good, reliable, conven- tional, vigorous actor. I began to consider him first when I saw him in a crude piece called " The Chicago Fire," that was played at Hart's Theatre Comique. 1 saw in him strength and adaptable qualities. I knew that it would be a task to tame him down in his methods, but it so happened that the necessities of the play, aided by the urging of Dion Boucicault and myself, commended themselves to his reason ; and as Count Rudolf Chandoce in "Led Astray" his trans- formation was a surprise to those who best knew him, and his adherence thereafter to restrained expression remained permanent. In what I may call the formative process of the old Union Square Theatre, when I was looking about me for plays and for men, and was seeking to give a definite direction to the undertaking, it was necessary to obtain material upon which I could rely. Strength in the leading man was one thing, naturalness was another. I had judged of Thome's capacities cor- rectly. His native qualities of mind were obviously of a kind to admit of turning him to advantage. I saw that the emotion that he expressed in his acting was something more than merely theatric, and that it was a mere question of expression and method that was lack- ing. In the end, Charles Thorne became the most convincing of actors in all passages of genuine feeling. His roughness was converted into manly sincerity, and to it was added a tenderness that gave full value to the characters to which I assigned him. His utterance was distinct, his inflections were perfect. There was 22O FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. no mistaking his meaning. Charles Thome's open, manly bearing had much to do with his universal ac- ceptance. He was fortunate in having a consistent and perfect career. Charles Thome's first appearance in the company was in " The Geneva Cross," a play that I had had writ- ten for the theatre by George Fawcett Rowe, on a theme that he had outlfned to me some months before. As Raoul Dubourg he had a somewhat stormy part, one not calculated to lead him to that finer style after- wards adopted by him ; but shortly afterward in " Led Astray " he struck the right path. For a season or two I saw proper to send Thorne with the travelling company of the theatre ; but he was identified with the chief successes of the house, and to enumerate his roles would be in large measure to recall many of its sea- sons. It is not always that a manager can get such a just proportion among the capacities in his company that the leading figure in it does not dwarf his fel- low-players; but where disproportion does exist, the company, instead of being strong, is weak. Any inequality on the individual affects the whole body. While Thorne was a high standard and a good inspirit- ing figure at the head of my organization, that organi- zation was strong and independent of its leading man, who was not indispensable. The leading man of a stock company is very apt to make a mistake in this par- ticular. The truth is, however excellent he may be, it would be utterly impossible for him in plays of the modern school, plays of interest properly apportioned, to monopolize the whole attention of the audience, or to carry off all the praise. He is not the whole play ; and his efforts alone, however brilliant, have only a CHARLES R. THORNE, JR. 227 really comparatively small share in the general effect. The part of the manager is not a small one in provid- ing the conditions that give full effect to the doings of each and all of the actors in a play ; while the smallest detail, the least bit of good acting in a small way, has its bearing on the general result, and the very points for which the pampered actor may appropriate the entire applause. In one play, " The False Friend," Thome's emo- tional power had the singular effect of over-reaching the part ; that is to say, playing the false heir to a noble estate and incidentally gaining the heart of an innocent and proud girl, he touched the sympathies of the audience to such an extent that the repulsion that should have been experienced toward him did not exist at all. The rascality of the claimant was forgotten for the moment ; and one was fain to wish Lucien Gleyne, the lover, prosperity in his suit. Edgar Fawcett had written the play at my encouragement, and had taken the Tichborne case as his suggestion. It was an ex- cellent play in many respects. But it was at the Union Square that the fortunate combination of circumstances was to give him charac- ters that were admittedly perfect ; for he had parts in his career at the house where not only he, but his asso- ciates and the play itself, were as nicely balanced in perfect art as we may hope to see. It is not always that a company in its best strength can be supplied with a fitting play; but the Union Square Theatre saw this conjunction. "The Two Orphans" represents a point where the company was instinct with vitality, flushed with success, and pliable from the tnnning together. I began to look on them as my veterans, 228 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. prompt, eager, obedient, and loyal in the performance of their work. The spirit in the company was admira- ble. In " The Two Orphans " Thorne had the impor- tant part of the Chevalier de Vaudrey, but it was eminently a part that illustrated the value of a leading man of the best qualities. There was not much to do ; but the noble spirit of the chevalier, his dashing char- actef, his fine breeding, and all those points so needful to the atmosphere of the piece, were finely brought out by Thorne. The play is of one of the historic suc- cesses of the American stage ; and I need not recall the Madame Frochard of Marie Wilkins, the Louise of Kate Claxton, the Henrietta of Kitty Blanchard, the Pierre of Mackey, and the Jacques of McKee Rankin ; and yet these are the characters that would be best remem- bered in an ordinary performance of the great play. With Thorne as the chevalier, you carried away with you a distinct memory, a restful reminiscence in a tearful and stormy play; for there was something in- dividual and real in the impression left by Thorne. Many of his characters you remembered as men you had known. I would put his Daniel Rochat in this class. In its intellectual processes " Daniel Rochat " is one of the greatest plays ever written by Sardou. It is not a piece for an ordinary company. In Miss Sara Jewett there was an ideal. In character, feeling, and conviction, she represented the character in Sardou's drama to perfection ; and the whole performance left an impression upon such distinguished preachers as Dr. Bellows and Dr. Collier, who communicated to me letters expressing their appreciation of the value of such thoughtful, instructive, and powerful plays. Osip in "The Danicheffs " was a part, somewhat picturesque CHARLES R. THORNE, JR. 229 in various ways, that was played by Thorne with fine effect. There was a happy co-operation of forces, too, in some of the plays in which he appeared with Clara Morris. John Strebelow in " The Banker's Daughter," the play that established its author, Bronson Howard, in his career, was one of those fine, dashing, earnest, con- vincing performances of this excellent actor. Thorne was seen among other pieces in " Mother and Son," "Felicia," " The Wicked World," "The Hunchback," " Ferrol," "Conscience," " Lost Children," " The Cre- ole," etc. His Harold Armitage in "The Lights o' London " was the last piece of brilliant work that he did at the Union Square Theatre, though it was to be seen by the closely observant at that time that his forces were abating. In the early part of the winter of 1882 Thorne showed a disposition to accept some of the very large offers that were made for his services ; and, although he was under contract with me, I concluded to let him venture forth. Devotion to art and fidelity to the management are essentials in a stock company that is to be thoroughly efficient. Thorne had been liberally compensated for these desirable qualities, but with dis- content once set in his usefulness was impaired. He accepted the tempting offer made by Manager Stetson, and on Jan. 8, 1883, at Booth's Theatre, appeared in an elaborate revival of " The Corsican Brothers," the dual character of Louis and Fabian di Franchi, requiring considerable exertion. The effort proved too much for his physical re- sources. After the second performance he was una- ble to leave his bed, and the theatre was closed. His 230 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. career was ended. He died on March 10, 1883, within one day of completing his forty-third year, leaving behind a more than common personal feeling of regret in the profession ; and was borne to his last resting- place with a few words uttered over him by his old comrade, Stuart Robson, and with this message from Robert Ingersoll : " A few tears, a few words, a few flowers, are all that the living can give to the dead." AGNES BOOTH. AGNES BOOTH. BY LEWIS C. STRANG. AGNES BOOTH, in private life Mrs. John B. Schoeffel, has an indisputable claim on the title, " America's leading lady." I know of no appellation that would bestow on her greater honor, that would imply the possession and practice of a more honest or a whole- somer art, or that would better indicate the affection in which the public that knows her holds her. " Leading lady," taken in its old stock-company sense, signifies that crown-jewel in the player's casket, versatility, the ability to play well many parts ; it signifies temperament, personality, individuality ; it signifies dramatic tech- nique and brains ; it signifies the capacity adequately to comprehend and logically to delineate a character, to diffuse it with sympathy, to make it live by a thousand touches that appeal to common humanity ; it signifies the annihilation of mannerisms. Is this over-praise of an actor whose name is by no means the best known on the theatrical roll-call, and whose power to create and to interpret has been felt by but a small part of the whole number of theatre- lovers ? The narrowness of knowledge regarding Mrs. Schoeffel's art is easily explained. She has never been thoroughly inoculated with the starring germ not- 23' 232 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. withstanding that she did try the experiment once about twenty years ago. But, having escaped this rut-begetter, she now stands unconsciously, let us hope a representative of the very best that the American stage, at the present time, can show, "the perfect artist," that marvellous exponent of his- trionic artifice, Coquelin, called her. Marian Agnes Land Rookes was born in Sydney, Australia, Oct. 4, 1843. Although a native of the island continent and of English parentage, her father was a captain in the British army, her dramatic training was distinctly American. Her first appearance on any stage was made in her native city as a dancer, she being the Columbine at the Victoria Theatre. She was then only fourteen years old. On Feb. 9, 1858, she appeared for the first time in America, in San Francisco, under the management of Mrs. John Wood. This engagement was a short one ; but she continued in San Francisco as a member of the stock company at Maguire's Opera House, then the most important Western theatre, until June 17, 1865. Her reputation was firmly established when she was only seventeen years old by a performance of Hermione in " A Winter's Tale." On the eleventh of Feb- ruary, 1 86 1, she married Harry Perry, a popular actor, who died in less than a year. From the time of this marriage, and until she became the wife of Junius Brutus Booth, in 1867, she was billed as Mrs. Agnes Perry. J. B. Booth was a brother of the great trage- dian, Edwin Booth ; but he was not thoroughly imbued with the family dramatic instinct. He himself vowed that he would rather plough all day than act at night ; and Edwin, who heard the remark, sighed, and retorted, AGNES BOOTH. 233 " Yes, every one knows you are a better farmer than you are an actor." In the fall of 1865 Mrs. Perry came East ; and after a preliminary engagement at the Winter Garden, New York, then under the management of John S. Clarke, she made her official, metropolitan debut at Niblo's, in support of Edwin Booth. The following January she became a member of the Boston Theatre Company, then one of the great dramatic organizations of the country. There she remained eight years, playing side by side with Frank Mayo and Louis Aldrich, and sup- porting every star of any prominence in the country. In 1874 Mrs. Booth began a two years' starring engage- ment, a venture which added much to her reputation. At the end of this time she became identified with the New York theatres, playing special engagements at Booth's Theatre, Niblo's, and the Union Square, until Henry E. Abbey organized, in 1878, his Park Theatre Company, of which Mrs. Booth was the leading lady. Three years later began her connection with A. M. Palmer's Madison Square Theatre Company, a connec- tion which lasted, with the exception of special engage- ments in Boston and Philadelphia during the season of 1885-1886, until the company was reorganized in 1891, when she left Mr. Palmer's management, and retired for a time from the stage. Junius Brutus Booth died on Sept. 17, 1883 ; and in 1885 Mrs. Booth was mar- ried to John B. Schoeffel, the well-known manager. During her retirement Mrs. Schoeffel went abroad, O and studied with considerable thoroughness the theatre in London and Paris. The season of 1895-1896 saw her Kick in the harness in the leading role of an out-and- out sensational melodrama, "The Sporting Duchess." 234 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO DAY. From this brief sketch of Mrs. Schoeffel's career, an idea of the remarkable completeness of her dramatic experience can be gleaned. To enumerate all the char- acters which she has played would be almost a never- ending task. Indeed, it is doubtful if the list could be made complete, even by Mrs. Schoeffel herself. Eight years of changing bills in the Californian theatre, eight years of the same thing at the Boston Theatre, and some fifteen years of similar experience in the New York theatres ! Think of it ! With Edwin Booth in New York in the sixties she made her first appearance as Julie in " Richelieu." Then came Des- demona, Virginia in " Virginius," Ophelia, Marianne in " Jack Cade," Cordelia in " King Lear," Colenthe in "Damon and Pythias," and Julia in "The Gladiator." Writing of these performances, a critic says: "She is one of the finest actresses at present on the American stage. Her features are expressive, and her face full of animation. She is a mistress of stage business, and never misses the points, though she takes them quietly and without apparent intention. She has a great deal of dash, plenty of spirit, a ringing stage laugh, and a voice of singular richness and distinctness." And the same words might equally well be applied to her to-day, only with greater emphasis. Her engagement at the Boston Theatre began with the making of a great hit as Marco in "The Marble Heart," which character she assumed Jan. 8, 1866, at a benefit to Frank Mayo. Her continued good work, in parts ranging from tragedy to farce, made this first impression a lasting one. After returning to New York, she appeared in Belot's " La Femme de Fey " and " Elaine," following these with a remarkable im- AGNES BOOTH. 235 personation of Constance in "King John." When in August, 1876, Jarrett and Palmer produced at Booth's Theatre the great spectacle founded on Lord Byron's " Sardanapalus," Mrs. Booth as Myrrah was its chief charm. It was a notable production for those days, replete with Oriental splendor and suggestivencss. Then followed another great success for Mrs. Booth in Shakespeare's " Cleopatra," in which she played the Serpent of the Nile. With the Union Square Theatre Company Mrs. Booth is best remembered as Lady Maggie Wagstaff in " Pink Dominoes," and also for her excellence in " The Celebrated Case." When " Old Love Letters " was produced by the Park Theatre Company, Bronson Howard, the author of the play, was so pleased with her characterization of the widow that he forthwith presented her with the drama. Then followed a capital bit of character acting as Bellinda in Gilbert's " En- gaged ;" and later, when Bartley Campbell's " Fairfax " was produced, she carried to success a poor play. Af- ter the organization of the Madison Square Theatre Company, Mrs. Booth created the parts of Nora in " Ksmeralda," Oct. 9, 1881, and of Mrs. Dick in Bron- son Howard's "Young Mrs. Winthrop." It is, however, as Mrs. Ralston in Sir Charles Young's "Jim, the Penman," first played by the Madi- son Square Theatre Company on Nov. I, 1886, that the theatre-goers of to-day are wont to connect the name of Agnes Booth. Her powerful acting in this role did much to reveal the dramatic possibilities in the middle-aged heroine, the woman who knew what it meant to live and to suffer. Previously it had been the young girl around whom the playwright had been 2^6 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. accustomed to centre his appeals to an audience's sym- pathies. Mrs. Ralston thrust the young girl to that lower plane on which she properly belonged, and not yet has the poor thing had the courage again to climb into the full light of the calcium. In "Jim, the Pen- man," Mrs. Schoeffel's portrayal of mental suffering, of grief, of misery, and of despair, seemed wonderfully real. It was the height of emotional, not hysterical, acting. To afford a striking example of versatility, one has but to notice the contrast not contrast, either, complete dissimilarity between Mrs. Ralston and the character in "The Sporting Duchess," with which Mrs. Schoeffel remade her reputation on her return to the stage. The Duchess of Milford dwelt on that vague line betwixt comedy and burlesque ; and Mrs. Schoeffel realized a paradox she presented a sporting woman who was womanly, a " hail fellow, well met " among men, a frequenter of stables and race-tracks, a female plunger who was not coarse, who never shocked, who was altogether delightful, and who, moreover, was life-like and not a puppet. Time effaces nothing more quickly or more abso- lutely than it does the recollection of plays and of acting. If one, in whom theatre-going has been a long practised habit, strives to recall performances which at the time pleased him mightily, he is likely to find that they have faded away. Yet some scenes hardly scenes, merely moments unusually vivid in impression - have a curious way of sticking. Firmly fixed in my memory is that bit of pantomime with which Agnes Booth brought down the curtain on the little play by Augustus Thomas, "Afterthoughts." This curtain-raiser, I strongly suspicion, was of little AGNES BOOTH. 237 value in itself ; but in the keeping of Mrs. Booth and Mr. Edward Bell it became wonderfully heart-stirring. It was full of Thomas sentiment, then fresh and new, and not washed out. It told the story of a widow, who loved a man younger than herself, over whom she ex- erted a great influence. Straight from a quarrel with his sweetheart he came to her, and she had but to tempt him ever so little to win him. She nobly re- sisted ; and concealing with a smiling face the aching within, she sent him away to that other one whom she knew he loved, and in whom she realized he would find the greater happiness. After the door has closed be- hind him, and as she listens to the decreasing noise made by his departing carriage, the never-to-be-absent loneliness steals over her with the silence. The smile leaves her lips, and her face is wan and drawn. She shivers ; for the blood, the warm blood of life and joy, seems no longer to flow through her veins, and her heart is as dead. She reaches for her cloak, and wraps its warmth-reviving folds around her. The lighted lamp with its brightness mocks her ; and quickly, almost an- grily, she turns it down till it shows but the faintest sparkle. Aimlessly, carelessly, she goes here, there. Her stumbling steps bring her to that favorite chair by the fireside, where she has so often given her thoughts to him ; and, weary, she sinks into its depths. In the flickering firelight her loss of hope is revealed in all its pitifulness. Her despair, at first too over- whelming for tears, at last finds this most merciful outlet. Her sobs, long drawn out, agonizing, one might well believe come from her very soul. Such is the een said that the highest triumph of the player is to realize the true aspirations of poetic genius, and to give adequate expression to the various emotions of the soul. An actor may be very dignified and de- clamatory ; but unless he endeavors to lay bare the springs of the character he represents, his work is of little value. Unfortunately the stage is governed by traditions compared with which the laws of the Medes and Persians were very elastic ; and Nym Crinkle never made a truer remark than when he observed that the average actor, as a rule, was " generally swathed, mummy-like, in the thousand-year-old wrapper of his business." But even in these degenerate days, when we weigh art in balances and genius in scales, it is possible for originality, naturalness, and intensity to conquer old prejudices. There is something irresistible about a graceful, honest, simple, passionate personality. It is delightful to see an actor lost in a character, to see a beautiful woman the instrumentality of a thought, to see her a living, breathing ideal. This enviable dis- tinction has been attained by few ; but it is most grati- 274 GEORGIA CAYVAN. GEORGIA CAVVAN. 275 fying to know that among the honored ones, the name of Georgia Cay van is unmistakably enrolled. Even in the early days of her career it was proph- esied that Miss Cay van would be the American Madge Robertson, and it must be admitted that there is still a great similarity in the styles of both actresses. But this resemblance, however, exists only in outline, and not in detail ; for although Miss Cay van possesses the best attributes of Mrs. Kendal, yet she has often at- tained heights which are far beyond the reach of her English prototype. The most striking feature of Mrs. Kendal's acting has always been the careful cle- liberateness with which she leads up to every point, and the thoroughness with which she extracts from every situation every possible bit of effect. She seems to suggest nothing, but to do everything. It is quite evident that she has schooled herself during her long career to leave nothing to the imagination of the spec- tator. On the other hand, the groundwork of Miss Cayvan's art like that of all the other arts seems to be suggcstiveness ; and the secret of the success of this element upon which she depends, in a measure, is not difficult to fathom. The artists who appeal directly to the grosser senses of an audience, and do not leave anything to be considered in the outer realms of imagination, must of necessity achieve less the senses which are susceptible of immediate impression being of definite limits. Miss Cayvan is herself a most imaginative actress, and the reason that her success is in proportion to the intelligence of her audience is sim- ply because the poetry of her fancy is most fully appre- ciated by those who are endowed most liberally with a similar gift. 276 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. it must not be imagined that there is any hesitation or vagueness about the acting of Miss Cay van. From her first entrance upon the scene she is completely mistress of the situation, and carries with her, not only the unswerving sympathies, but also the convictions, of her audience. In fact, she stamps the shape and strikes the key-note of the character at once ; and all the sub- sequent development of the part is but the logical outcome of the opening scene. Few actresses give an audience so much to think about as does Miss Cay van ; and at the same time few artists approach her in the power of expressing the individuality of a character, the trifling details which cause a character to be recog- nized. Perhaps a slight review of the principal incidents of Georgia Cayvan's professional life is not amiss in a sketch of this kind, and it will serve to indicate the position occupied by that clever young woman on the American stage. It was at a small church festival held in her native town of Bath, Me., that Miss Cayvan first displayed a pcncJiant for theatricals. The entertainment consisted of a number of tableaux ; and as the hall in which it was given could not boast of such a luxury as a curtain, the committee in charge were much puzzled as to the manner of concluding the performance. It was finally agreed that the smallest child in the village should be sent on the stage, attired in a long nightgown, and with a candle in her hand, to say "goodnight" to the audience, thus giving them their cue for retiring. Miss Cayvan, then only three years of age, was chosen to deliver this brief and un- conventional epilogue. It is a matter of record that she acquitted herself most creditably, and spoke her GEORGIA CAYVAN. 277 line with a due appreciation of its import ; but this done, she positively refused to retire from the centre of the stage, and had to be removed bodily. This fact may be accepted either as an indication of Miss Cay van's early love for her present profession, or a keen appre- ciation of the position on the stage usually occupied by the leading personage. However, it is a pleasure to learn that she did not follow her successful debit t by joining the ranks of what are known as "juvenile wonders." For it is not the least cogent of the argu- ment against the employment of children on the stage that the promise held forth by their performances is but seldom realized. They are very much like a tree in a forcing-house, the blossom or fruit is prized because it comes before its time, but the principle of fruitification is soon destroyed. That many actors have risen superior to the ill effects of^ strained pre- cocity is beyond dispute, but the training they are necessarily subjected to in a theatre imparts to their style a staginess which they afterwards find it very difficult to discard. Soon after Miss Cayvan's memorable dtbut in Bath, her family removed to Boston; and it was while attend- ing school in that centre of culture that she developed unusual powers as a reader. Nowadays she laughingly declares that it was a strong predilection for unlimited quantities of soup and celery that prompted her to earn her own living ; but, however that may be, it is certain that Miss Cayvan's services were eagerly sought for on all sides soon after her first appearance on the platform. In the beginning, her repertory consisted principally of humorous selections and "bird pieces," in which she gave imitations of various members of the 278 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. feathered tribe. Emboldened by her success, she added scenes from "Henry V." and " Henry VIII. ;" and her fame spread even to New York, where she was invited to come on one occasion, and give her readings before the Y. M. C. A. This was a great event in the life of Miss Cayvan ; and the attendant preparations and ex- citement of her first visit to Gotham, to say nothing of the congratulations of her schoolmates, for she was then still a pupil of the Boston High School, are yet fresh in her memory. On her return to Boston, Miss Cayvan entered the School of Oratory directed by Professor Lewis B. Monroe, where she laid a substantial foundation for her future work as an actress. Professor Monroe was much impressed by the talent of his new scholar, and did everything in his power to further her advance- ment. He readily foresaw that her proper sphere was the drama, and not the platform, while he repeatedly asserted that when the proper time came she would easily assume a leading place in the theatrical profes- sion. Miss Cayvan did not share Professor Monroe's opinion ; but while spending the summer at his home in Dublin, N. H., something happened which subse- quently caused her to alter her decision of never for- saking the platform for the stage. She had the good fortune to meet that erratic genius and apostle of Del- sarte, Steele Mackaye, who was then getting ready to open the Madison Square Theatre, and who was also on a still hunt for desirable talent. Mr. Mackaye imme- diately perceived that Miss Cayvan had the making of a successful actress, and entreated her to begin her career on the stage under his management. " If you will come to New York I will make you a leading GEORGIA CAYVAN. 279 woman in a year," he often said to her ; but, as the young reader had an unusual number of profitable con- tracts on hand, she begged for time to consider his offer. However, Mr. Mackaye was persistent ; and when he returned to New York he kept urging her not to throw away such a splendid opportunity. " I am sorry to hear that you are in any way pre- vented from taking advantage of the extraordinary opening there is for your abilities in this city," wrote Mr. Mackaye, on one occasion, to Miss Cay van. " Even now I cannot refrain from hoping that you may be able to free yourself in some honorable way from your present engagements. ... I hold it in my power now to afford you the opportunity to grasp within one year a leading position in this profession. You may never again be able to command under such favorable, and I may say delightful, conditions, such a wonderful chance of advancement. Under the circumstances, is it not worth your while to make an effort to secure this open- ing ? Can you not buy yourself off from your present contracts? We stand ready to assist you in this. You may marvel why I am so anxious that you should do this. It is not alone for your own sake, as you may well imagine ; but it is also because we are convinced from what we know of you that, if you are identified with the Madison Square Theatre from its inception, your own sterling talents will ultimately make you a very valuable member of our company. I am sure that, under my thorough system of stage management, you can become in a short time one of the best actresses this country has ever produced ; and it is this convic- tion that induces me to advise you to set yourself free and join us if you possibly can." 2 So FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. The faith of Mr. Mackaye in Miss Cayvan must have been nothing short of remarkable, but subsequent events proved that his judgment was not at fault. After months of hesitation, Miss Cayvan accepted Mr. Mackaye's terms, and joined the stock company of the Madison Square Theatre. But, in the meantime, she had tried her wings by a performance of Hebe in the original production of " Pinafore," given by the Boston Ideals, in one of William Gillette's early plays, and in a benefit to a Boston actor. Her first professional appearance as an actress was made at the Madison Square Theatre on June 7, 1880, when she appeared as Dolly Button in " Hazel Kirke." She was promoted to the leading role a few months later ; and when " The Professor " was given its first presentation, the part of Daisy Brown was intrusted to Miss Cayvan. While playing an arduous season on the road in " Hazel Kirke " during the ensuing year, she received an invitation to associate herself with George Riddle in a performance of the " CEdipus Tyrannus " of Sopho- cles. Miss Cayvan easily saw that her connection with such an enterprise would be the means of advancing herself professionally, and, with the courage of inexpe- rience, coolly gave up a season's engagement for the pleasure of playing the role of Jocasta during two weeks. The outcome, however, exceeded her most sanguine expectations. The people who flocked to see the Greek tragedy at the Globe Theatre in Boston, and at Booth's Theatre in New York, included many who seldom visited the play-house under ordinary cir- cumstances ; and Miss Cayvan's majestic and impressive interpretation of CEdipus' Queen, not only won for her new friends, who have since followed her career with GEORGIA CAYVAX. 281 pride, but also placed a premium on her services, which would otherwise have required years of successful act- ing. For the first time in her life she tasted the sweets of a great triumph, while she also understood the amount of inspiration which lies in the atmosphere of a noble tragedy. Old John Gilbert was so carried away by her per- formance that he rushed back on the stage, asking, " Where is that Miss Cayvan ? " On being introduced to the young actress, he immediately wanted to know where she hailed from, and with whom she had acted before. When he was informed that she had been playing for over a year at the Madison Square Theatre, he was somewhat taken aback, but calmly asserted, with his usual gruffness, that he had never heard of her previously. However, Mr. Gilbert made it his busi- ness afterwards to keep track of her whereabouts ; and on one occasion, while showing her a picture of Char- lotte Cushman, he predicted that the mantle of the great American tragedienne would some day fall on Miss Cay van's dimpled shoulders. The appearance of Miss Cayvan in "(Edipus Tyran- nus " marked a pleasant epoch in her life, and since then her rise has been almost phenomenal. Even now she likes to look back to that performance, which she pronounces as one of her happiest recollections. Per- haps, like the Erench poet, she realizes that " Un souvenir heureux cst, petit-Sire, sur tcrre Plus vrni quo lc Ijonheur." When she doffed her Greek robes, she went back to the rustic comedy of "Ha/el Kirke," for the fort- night's indulgence had been an expensive luxury in 282 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO DAY. many ways. But she soon found a happy medium in the melodramas of Bartley Campbell, with some of which Miss Cay van's name will always be associated. The success of "The White Slave " at the Fourteenth Street Theatre, New York, was largely due to her impassioned yet delicate impersonation of Lisa, which she followed in rapid succession with such characteriza- tions as Sara in " Siberia," Little Hetty in " Old Ship- mates," and Lura in "Romany Rye." Miss Cayvan's powers were singularly well suited to this style of act- ing, and she afterward showed that she had not for- gotten her early training when she appeared in "Squire Kate." Her vigorous and at the same time natural and artistic portrayal of the woman of the moors raised her audience to such a pitch of enthusiasm, that on one occasion she won as many as five recalls. This is startling when you consider that it happened in the Lyceum Theatre, where it is deemed ill-bred to applaud or display any emotion. There is only one other in- stance on record in the history of the house. It hap- pened during the run of " Lord Chumley," and it so surprised Mr. Sothern that he actually fainted. After the termination of her engagement at the Fourteenth Street Theatre, Miss Cayvan spent four months in San Francisco, occupying the position of leading woman in Haverly's Company at the Cali- fornia Theatre. Upon her return to New York, A. M. Palmer engaged her to replace Sara Jewett at the Union Square Theatre, where she played the parts of Marcelle in " A Parisian Romance," and Jane Learoyd in "The Long Strike." Her stay at that theatre was made anything but agreeable by internal dissensions ; and the following season she was glad to follow Mr. GEORGIA CAYVAN. 283 Palmer to the Madison Square Theatre, appearing in that house in " Alpine Roses," " Young Mrs. Win- throp," and " May Blossom." When the company went touring, " May Blossom " was supplemented by " Divorce," " Impulse," and " La Belle Russe." It was in St. Louis that Miss Cayvan played a starring engagement in the latter play much against her will, but with great results. When she remonstrated with Mr. Belasco for asking her to play a role which had tasked the powers of an actress like Rose Coghlan, he quietly replied that she could do full justice to it, add- ing that after her first performance she would rather act in " La Belle Russe" than eat. Miss Cayvan held her audiences from first to last, and now she is willing to acknowledge the correctness of Mr. Belasco's peculiar assertion. The following season found her in New York for a short time, and then she cast her fortunes with Dion Boucicault on the road. The subsequent formation of the Lyceum Theatre, and her engagement by Daniel Frohman, as well as the success she has won in such plays as " The Wife," " Sweet Lavender," "The Marquise," "The Charity Ball," "Nerves," "The Idler," " Old Heads and Young Hearts," " Lady Boun- tiful," "Squire Kate," "The Gray Mare," "Americans Abroad," " The Amazons," " Our Country Cousins," and " A Woman's Silence," are matters of too recent occurrence to require extended comment. By dint of hard study, intelligent comprehension, a genuine love for her art, and a determination to ele- vate it to its proper place, as a means not only of recre- ation but of artistic enjoyment and aesthetic education, Miss Cayvan has attained an enviable place in her pro- fession. In fact, it can be safely said of her, that she 284 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. is a great dramatic artist in an age when greatness in any branch of art is extremely rare. Her powers are not limited to the portrayal of love-lorn and tearful heroines, with which she has largely been identified of late years ; for with her acting is not only the mimetic performance of a model, but the absorption and repro- duction of nature. With Miss Cayvan an idea becomes a sentiment, and the sentiment soon kindles into a passion. No rational person who has seen her Lady Teazle or her Jocasta the latter a performance of ineffable beauty, as exquisite as it was powerful can honestly doubt her ability to give expression to exalted ideals. However, she thoroughly realizes the fact that the truly artistic part of her career will only begin when Time compels her to discard her present super- ficial characterization for the more legitimate side of the drama. The boundless language of attitudes has in every one a fresh interpreter, and acting is so personal and physical a matter that mannerism seems almost inevi- table to it ; but it must be conceded that Miss Cayvan is singularly free from those little tricks of expression and gesture which are usually the part and parcel of every successful player. The actor is generally in- volved in the character he sustains, and he is likely to invest it with his own peculiarities of aspect and con- duct. Now and then an artist may succeed for a time in laying aside, as it were, his own individuality, and in so changing himself as to escape identification. It was said of the elder Mathews that he possessed " the art of extracting his personal nature from his assump- tions." Mimetic power of this kind is, of course, of very rare occurrence, but it has often been displayed GEORGIA CAY VAN. 285 by Miss Cayvan. She is well aware that there is no mechanism, no matter how perfect, that can take the place of graceful, unconscious spontaneity ; and with her the gesture is always the outward expression of inward feeling. But no matter in what play Miss Cayvan appears, the light of her glorious talent glows through it all ; and every pose and change of feature seems to be the immediate reproduction of the mo- ment's thought and feeling. She projects herself into the character she interprets, and the semblances are lost in the one individuality. In fact, there is always the intellectual assimilation and the emotional merging. It is the impulse of her whole nature, the force of her whole soul, and not the straining at portrayal or the production of effect, which elevates her acting from imitation to the representation of life and its passions. Like Bernhardt, Miss Cayvan can well say of her be- loved art : "I hold the mirror in which all things are reflected, but in which no truth abides. I help you endure what is wearisome in life, so that my task is not an unworthy one. To teach the truth of truths, we have ministers ; to console us for death, we have God." EDWARD H. SOTHERN BY EDWARD M. ALFRIEND. THE elder Sothern was playing in New Orleans when his son Edward was born ; and the announcement, or first record, of the birth is entirely consistent with the sense of humor that characterized Mr. Sothern's father. Sothern the elder was at that period of his life far from being rich, and he kept a daily memo- randum of his expenses in a small account-book. In this memorandum of each day's expenditures, amid amounts paid to grocer, butcher, washerwoman, etc., is to be found the entry, " boy born," and a statement of the cost of his making his first appearance at or on any stage. So in New Orleans, La., on Dec. 6, 1859, Edward H. Sothern first saw the light, and began a life which has added so much of honor to the American stasre. o His early intellectual manifestations were such that his parents thought that he would be a great painter, and with a view to the development of this talent placed him in the art school of the Royal Academy of London ; but young Sothern utterly failed to dis- close as a painter the talents anticipated by his par- ents. While his parents were cherishing the aspiration 286 E. H. SOTHERN IN "THE PRISONER OP ZENDA ' EDWARD H. SOTHERN. 287 of his development as a painter, the son was secretly fostering his ambition to be an actor. His father, the elder Sothern, was then at the ze- nith of his reputation as an actor ; and young Edward urged him to let him become a member of his com- pany. Distrusting his son's capacity for the stage, he reluctantly consented ; and young Sothern accom- panied his father from England to America, and made his first appearance on the stage at Abbey's old Park Theatre, at the age of nineteen. At this, his first performance, he had only one line to say ; and when his cue came he could not speak a word. In describing this experience, Mr. Sothern states, " My father was on the stage when I made my entrance on that, to me, memorable occasion, and I walked toward him. I didn't say my sentence, I couldn't utter a word ; and I shall never forget my sensations when I heard my father exclaim, in an un- dertone, ' Why don't you say something ; can't you speak ? ' It had never occurred to me before that people could talk to each other on the stage, and not be overheard. I supposed, of course, that the entire audience was aware of what my father said to me. My chagrin was intolerable, and I got off the stage as quickly as I could. This performance confirmed my father's opinion that I would never make an actor. Still I appeared with him the next night, and after much drilling succeeded in getting off my sentence." Young Sothern played with his father in this coun- try about a year, and then accompanied him back to England. A year later he joined John McCullough's com- pany, and for a year wandered over America, playing 288 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. " Romans and ruffians." Sothern was very proud of this engagement, for it was the first one in which he had a written contract. It was signed by McCullough, and it gave the young actor a salary of twenty dollars per week. After a time Sothern was without an engagement, and for a long period he could not get work. He was quite poor ; but being very proud, and a gentleman by instinct, he deported himself with dignity, manliness, and self-respect. Finally he obtained work, and played at different localities in the country, at one time under the management of Charles Frohman, and another under John P. Smith. His career was seemingly without promise, and he was well-nigh surrendering to despair, when he met Mr. John Rickerby, Miss Helen Dauvray's manager. Mr. Rickerby said to him, " Why, Sothern, you are the very man I want. Will you play a small part with Miss Dauvray in ' Mona ' at the Star Theatre ? " Mr. Sothern did not accept the proffered engage- ment, but told Mr. Rickerby he would think the mat- ter over, and inform him of his decision. The young player wanted time for reflection, and also to go home and consult with his friend, Mr. Joseph Haworth, the well-known actor. With the unctuous humor that characterizes Mr. Sothern, he relates, " In spite of my varied experiences and misfortunes, now that I was back in New York, and particularly since I really had the offer of an en- gagement, that I could accept or refuse as I chose, I felt my pride mounting ; and I actually said to Joe Haworth in a very self-satisfied manner, that I did not think that I ought to lower myself by taking such a EDWARD H. SOTHERN. 289 small part in New York, and that I had perhaps better consider the matter a little more seriously than I would consider accepting a leading part. Joe turned to me, and in a half-contemptuous manner asked, ' Who are you, anyway ? ' Mr. Haworth's sarcasm brought young Sothern to an appreciation of his position as it actually existed, and was decisive of his action. So he accepted the engagement in Miss Dauvray's company, appeared in " Mona," and when it was withdrawn, appeared with that lady in "One of our Girls," at the Lyceum Theatre, in 1885, making his first hit. When Mr. Daniel Frohman assumed charge of the Lyceum Theatre, he was so impressed with Sothern's talents and promise that he opened a negotiation with him ; and the result was his appearance at that theatre in "The Highest Bidder," May 3, 1887. As Mr. Daniel Frohman describes it in speaking of it, " It was a purely tentative production ; but it proved to be an enormous success, and Sothern came out with a dis- tinct triumph." Mr. Frohman sent the play out on the road, as follows (being careful, as he says, " not to overweight the young star"), "'The Highest Bidder,' with E. H. Sothern ;" but the following year he was amply justified in saying " E. H. Sothern /// 'The Highest Bidder.' " In September, 1887, Mr. Sothern originated an ec- centric part in "The Great Pink Pearl." Subsequent to this, Mr. Daniel Frohman made an engagement with him as a star for three years. And from this period his professional advancement has been steady and unbroken. In August, 1888, Mr. Sothern made another great 290 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. hit as Lord Chumlcy in the play bearing that name, written for him by Messrs. Belasco and Ue Mille. Mr. Sothern played his successes in "The Highest Bidder" and in " Lord Chumley " in all the great cities of America, commanding the warmest approval of the press everywhere, and drawing packed houses. On Aug. 26, 1890, he originated the role of Allen Rollick in "The Maister of Woodbarrow," by Jerome K. Jerome, in which he made a brilliant hit, eclipsing his previous great successes in "The Highest Bidder" and "Lord Chumley." Jack Hammerton, in "The Highest Bidder," and Lord Chumley were great characteriza- tions, but somewhat similar as types, whereas Allen Rollick was absolutely a new line of acting for Mr. Sothern ; and it was with consummate skill, power, and finesse that he portrayed the crude, true-hearted, manly youth, Allen Rollick, in marked contrast to the more conventional roles as shown in the parts of Jack Ham- merton and Lord Chumley. On Aug. 31, 1891, he appeared at the Lyceum Theatre as the Duke of Guisebury in "The Dancing- Girl," by Henry Arthur Jones. This play occupied the stage during his season at the Lyceum. In the part of the Duke, Mr. Sothern made the best perform- ance he had ever presented to the public. It was en- tirely different in its artistic demands on Mr. Sothern from any character that he had previously acted. In the early performances of the part he was seemingly overweighted. But it was a seeming overweight only, caused by the nervousness of first performances of a new role, a full appreciation of the strength of the part, and a fear of overacting. As the performances progressed, Mr. Sothern was incessantly studying the EDWARD H. SOTIIERN. 291 part, analyzing its every phase and detail, testing a bit of coloring here and a bit there in his rendition, at one point deepening a shadow, and at another lightening it, until his impersonation of the Duke of Guisebury be- came, in breadth, strength, power, subtlety, nicety of delicate shading and coloring, one of the finest perform- ances ever seen on the New York stage. His Captain Latterblair attracted attention, as also did his hero in "The Way to Win a Woman ; " but his greatest popular success has been the triple character of the drunken king, the adventurous Englishman, and the historic ancestor of the two, in "The Prisoner of Zenda." Mr. Sothern's success has been achieved by an earn- est, persistent pursuit of his profession, to whose exact- ing demands he is and ever has been loyal. He is at all times a hard student and a faithful worker, and no outside influence diverts him from his duties. To his intimates he is known as the most genial, de- lightful of companions, with the bright, happy, ingenu- ous nature of sunny boyhood. He has a great deal of the humor that characterized his father, and has the keenest possible sense of the ludicrous, tells a good joke, and enjoys one with infinite relish. He is a loyal friend, and above all instinctively a gentleman, sans pent; sans rcprochc. He is sensitive and retiring, qualities always characteristic of an artis- tic nature; and these traits in him have often induced those who knew him slightly to think him cold. The very reverse is true of him. For he is best loved by those whose knowledge of him is most thorough ; and this is the truest test of character. ALEXANDER SALVINI. BY JAMES ALBERT WALURON. ALL men may be born free and equal, but all are not equipped alike. Paternal or maternal endowment, or both, count for something in this world of mental and physical battle. Blood and brain and brawn in the begetters all tell. Genius may be an accident, but under proper conditions it may produce something quite akin to itself ; and a filial passion for emulation, which is frequent in families of fine fibre and artistic temperament, when spurred by noble example and fa- vored by a sympathetic atmosphere, is almost always a leader to artistic accomplishment. Sometimes it does not stop below the triumphs of genius, though its type is never like that which inspired it. The world has echoed plaudits of Tomasso Salvini. Because he was a majestic figure of the theatre it did not follow of course that his son should ornament it. But was there any reason why that son should not fol- low his ambition to the stage ? Alexander Salvini was, and is, no doubt, as earnestly and honorably desirous of carving out his future in the theatre as was his illustrious father. He has elected to be known as an American actor. He has, in a com- paratively short time, won rapid way to the popular 292 ALEXANDER SALVINI. ALEXANDER SALVINI. 293 heart. If we cavil at his nationality, and frown upon his assumption of adoption, we at once confess unreason or short memory. There is little of striking note in this country, except tobacco and the Indian, remotely native ; and we must not forget that even the Puritans were immigrants. Alexander was the third son of Tomasso Salvini, and was born in Rome, Italy, Dec. 21, 1861. His younger days were spent in Florence, his father's home; and here and in Switzerland he was educated for the profes- sion of a civil engineer. "But," says a friend of Alex- ander, " nature had no sympathy with this intention. In his father's home he had inhaled always the atmos- phere of art, the inherited instinct was in his blood, and the seeming accident which finally determined his career was only necessity in disguise." In Florence, where Salvini was almost the apotheosis of dramatic art, it was to be expected that his children should be looked upon as natural perpetuators of his genius. To enlist them in amateur theatricals was regarded as a great achievement, and no doubt also as a most fit thing. The father, whose dramatic ideals were so high that he did not wish to have any of his name after him fall below them so far as to take from the lustre of his life-work, and probably believing that he had not transmitted the vital spark, discour- aged these endeavors; and while he was at home such efforts were frowned down. But during his first tour of America, Alexander was asked to appear in a benefit performance, and most willingly consented. The play was "The Son of Titian," a passionate, romantic crea- tion of Alfred de Musset. The audience was in his favor. All the surroundings were sympathetic. The 294 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. boy fairly trembling with eagerness, and filled with the hot blood of his sire, artless, yet vigorous and emo- tional, won plaudits that might have turned an older head. On the father's return he was besought to con- sent to his son's adoption of the theatre. He did not seem to yield. He sent Alexander to America. Did he think that in the distractions of travel and a strange land the boy would forget his passion, perhaps meet rebuffs, and return to prosily pursue an engineer's calling? or did he then have an inkling of the truth, that the boy would credit him in his own great pro- fession ? Adventitious circumstances assisted Alexander in his American venture. The American manager of theatres is no less enterprising for novelty, and no less skilful in detecting symptoms from the public pulse, than was that distinguished circus caterer and philosopher who disenveloped himself from mortality at Bridgeport. The Salvini had left our shores showered with won- dering praise and with money in his purse. Here was his son, a mere youth it is true, and he wanted an engagement. A want quickly filled. The patronymic was enough. Curiosity would supply all else. The elder Salvini knew no English, but his art was all interpretative. The son knew too well that his art was not all interpretative. The elder Salvini had struggled to accustom his tongue to our strange and difficult speech. It was impossible as hopeless as would be the effort of a mighty tree to uproot itself and seek foundation in an alien soil. The son was a sapling, and quickly took new root. The work of foreign actresses most notable, Mod- jeska in the acquisition of English has been mar- ALEXANDER SALVINI. 295 veiled at. It is safe to say, however, that no man or woman of foreign birth, and without knowledge of English, has in the time spent by Alexander Salvini so mastered this language. To-day his speech, in his quieter artistic moments, is a delight to the native ear. It is almost free from even a trace of unfa- miliar accent, and his knowledge and enunciation of its subtler values are remarkable. He has the natural and nervously energetic intelligence expected of any son of his father. But his triumph over the difficul- ties that beset the Italian who seeks to accomplish English is due mainly to astounding application to the task. His accomplishment has been gained by work that would tire even a genius, and appall and dishearten almost any son of a genius. There are stories of this young man's earlier habits in this country that account for what his parentage might not explain. They are of an almost ascetic bachelorhood, amused by the companionship of favorite dogs, a fencing-master, and a tutor in English. Exer- cise to at least conserve the splendid physique which that almost physically matchless father bequeathed ; persistent, unremitting mental application and vocal practice to master a strange speech. Work. The hardest kind of work. What will it not fulfil ? Alexander Salvini made his first appearance in New York, at the Union Square Theatre, Feb. 23, 1882, in the leading male role of Georges Duhamel in "Article 47," with Clara Morris. He had then studied English three months. It is not strange that he did not then speak it. He tried to. And he put such young vigor and earnestness into his acting that he made friends. Those in the audience who could discriminate saw fire 296 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. in him. It was not the light of a star whose place had been fixed with relation to surrounding constellations ; but it was a light, and a new one. It might be mete- oric. There were those who were quick to discredit, as well as those who could encourage and expect. The son of an eminent father had made an experiment. Experiments fail, and experiments do not fail. Those that have not failed have given the earth progress. Young Salvini's experiment was not a failure; it was the prologue to a story of success. As soon as the elder Salvini was convinced that his son was fatally ardent for the theatre, and that with encouragement he might succeed, he consented to the young man's choice. Thenceforward Alexander had the best engagements to choose from. For two years he appeared with Margaret Mather in a round of legitimate romantic parts, and subsequently for three years was a magnetic and picturesque figure in A. M. Palmer's notable Madison Square Company. He played other and touring engagements, and for two seasons supported his famed father in this country before he ventured upon his own footing as a star. There is no suggestion, of course, that Alexander Salvini reached the success he now enjoys at a bound ; or that he can to-day be called as great as some of his friends believe him to be ; or that he has not yet much to master, and as much to define and refine. As he stands, however, he is one of the most interesting masculine figures on the American stage. In fourteen years he mastered more than thirty char- acters. When one realizes that to master all of the lines and intricacies of a single drama so as to describe its leading character even acceptably is a labor almost ALEXANDER SALVINI. 297 as great as the actual production of a literary work of moment, a story or a play, if you please, Alexander Salvini's remarkable industry and admirable achiev- ments may be appreciated in part. When we remem- ber the lingual difficulties of the tasks, the results become nothing less than wonderful. Some of these many characters of course, and notably the earlier ones, he has not touched distinguishedly in the sense of artistic consummation ; others he has raised to new eminences : to all he has given an attention and an em- phasis all his own, and in them developed conceptive details that index future possibilities and probabilities rather than illustrate any self-consciousness of present perfection ; and in none has he utterly failed. Where is there a record like it on the contemporary stage ? In those vivid, warm-blooded, spontaneous, and ro- mantic roles which will outlive all attempted instate- ments of the realistically commonplace upon the stage, young Salvini revels naturally. In some of them he stands peerless to-day. Perhaps no character better than that of D'Artagnan in "The Three Guardsmen" illustrates his peculiar stage utility at this time. He lives, he looks, he is the brave, ingenuous, daring, gal- lant, loyal, and impulsive youth an intensified type it is true, yet vitally human and ever admirable created by Dumas. The most fatigued play-goer may witness Salvini in this role, and quaff from him a rejuvenating draught of life. The character fits young Salvini's per- sonality as perfectly as that of Samson sympathizes with the ripe, antediluvian suggestion of primitive man's massivity which the elder Salvini presents. The feats of Samson, again, were of course far removed from the exploits of a D'Artagnan. 298 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. No one who has studied young Salvini can deny that he has genius. When that is wedded to rare indus- try, as it is in him, much may be hoped for. He has faults, but they are those of an enthusiasm and a vigor that hand in hand sometimes sweep all bounds. In- trinsically they are not faults, they are but blemishes. Alexander Salvini, too, is versatile. The compre- hending circle of his versatility, it is true, displays no such arcs as does that of his father, with whom he nevertheless has something in common. The father, perfect in pose and repose, finished in poise and equi- poise, stands a stately figure in his native land, whose atmosphere is filled with the traditions of ages of great achievement in all the fields of art. All other lands and atmospheres are foreign. He is as natural there as are the monuments which pilgrims study. The son, dominated by a legacy of paternal genius, and moved perhaps by the maternal strain in his blood, adventures. The artistic holies of the land that gave him birth are no doubt holy to him ; but his tempera- ment is not his father's temperament. He enters and assimilates with a new world. In a younger atmos- phere he inhales ambition, and works to ascend. m A JAMES O'NEIL IN ' MONTE CRISTO.' JAMES O'NEILL. BY HARRISON GREY FISKE. THE Emerald Isle has contributed her full quota of genius to the stage. The fiery, volatile, persuasive Irish temperament, when it is united with the dramatic instinct, produces players whose versatility, grace, and eloquence compare favorably with the finest histrionic representatives of the French, the nation that the Irish race resembles most nearly. Many of the illus- trious names that are written on the pages of English dramatic history are unmistakably Hibernian. Eng- land's enfant terrible has never learned to govern her- self ; but she has seized and swayed the sceptre, time and again, in the realms of poetry, oratory, and the drama. Erin sent Macklin, Doggett, O'Neill, and Wof- fington, in ye olden tyme, to wear, with memorable effect, the masque of Comus ; while we moderns are indebted to her for such characteristic sons as Dion Houcicault and Harry Sullivan, the one bringing us the smile of her green southern slopes, and the other the frown of her beetling northern crags. The best example of Irish dramatic genius, in its re- fined and picturesque aspects, possessed by the Ameri- can stage at this time, is James O'Neill. Mention of Kilkenny ought to call to our mind that handsome, 299 300 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. brilliant player, instead of the inevitable feline comba- tants ; for it was in Kilkenny that he first saw the light. Beneath the shadows of its gray cathedral, and its im- memorial round tower, and among its monastic ruins, his careless childhood was spent. He played in the mossy moat of Strongbow's ancient castle ; and he saw the gowned collegians enter the portals of the institu- tion of learning where Swift, Congreve, Farquhar, and Bishop Berkeley drank their youthful fill of scholastic knowledge. It was in this quiet haven of Catholicism that he imbibed the deep religious feeling that has re- mained with him throughout his career, a simple, trusting faith that has withstood the shock of all the complex and contending interests of this work-a-day world and this land of materialistic influences. The boy was but seven years of age when he came to this country with his father. While yet a lad the father died, and he was left to battle for existence alone. His first employment came from a clothier. He stuck to it a couple of years, meanwhile chafing at his lot, and resolving to make a bid for some- thing more to his taste at the first opportunity. As with many another ambitious young fellow, the stage seemed to offer a more promising field than anything else. He saw some of the good actors of the day, and felt emulous. And so O'Neill became an actor in the twilight of the palmy days. When he made his first appearance at the old Na- tional Theatre in Cincinnati, just before the war, -or, to be exact, in 1860, the theatrical revolution that afterward transmogrified the American stage had not yet begun. The youth was one of the last to receive the benefits of the rigorous schooling that novices JAMES O'NEILL 30! were then able to obtain. Before his talents reached their zenith, the change had come ; but adjusting him- self to it with true Irish facility, he preserved many of the excellences, and eschewed the faults, of that fast receding period. Although it is the fashion now to dis- credit the methods then in vogue, to sneer at the crude and hasty performances beside which the sumptuous productions of to-day appear vastly superior, the fact re- mains that that was the day of pure histrionism, as this is the day of artistic detail. The men that achieved eminence then had only histrionic ability to back them. And so it is that, although the traditions of that time have become a misty memory, and although the plays, the actors, and the public taste of ante-bellum days are viewed with little veneration from the coign of vantage occupied by play-goers of the last decade of the greatest of all the centuries, still it must be con- fessed that the actors now in their prime, that passed their young apprenticeship in the heart of the cease- less activity of the old time, learning all that old time had to teach, have held in trust and perpetuated for their successors at least a remnant of a rich dramatic heritage. The first line O'Neill spoke in public was uttered in the modest character of a guest at " Lucy Ash- ton's " wedding. After a few months at the National, the young Thespian joined a small travelling company. Travelling engagements were by no means then the comparatively luxurious berths that they are to-day. O'Neill's experience was decidedly unpleasant. He- had the usual mishaps that befell barn-stormcrs in the sparsely populated territory of the West, not the least of which (in his then condition) was the loss of several 302 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. trunks at divers and sundry times to satisfy the de- mands of cruel landlords. Salary days were not in the manager's calendar ; and when the company finally col- lapsed in an obscure town of Illinois, O'Neill had no other earthly possessions than the clothes he stood in. It was, perhaps, as a delicate tribute to these roving experiences that he was soon after engaged to play " walking gentleman " at the St. Louis Varieties, now known as the Grand Opera House. The season fol- lowing he was located in Cincinnati, under Robert Miles's management. There he remained until 1869, supporting the principal stars, and acquiring the use- ful expedients associated with the business of playing many and various parts, every week in the protracted season meaning an unbroken succession of rehearsals and performances, and, of course, no lack of hard work. The following season he obtained an engagement at the Holliday Street Theatre in Baltimore, under John T. Ford. "Leading juvenile" was his line of busi- ness, and he became a favorite with the Baltimoreans and with play-goers generally in the Southern cities visited by Mr. Ford's company. He went afterward to Cleveland to play in the excellent company at the Academy of Music, managed by John Ellsler. Here, for the first time, he was promoted to the honors and the emoluments of a leading man. Soon after the great fire, O'Neill became the leader of the strong company at McVicker's Theatre, in Chicago. During the two years that he remained with that organization he lent excellent support to Charlotte Cushman, Adelaide Neilson, Edwin Booth, and many other famous actors. It was then that he laid the foundation of the remarkable popularity he has enjoyed JAMES O'NEILL. 303 uninterruptedly among the Chicagoans, who cherish the amiable fiction that he is a " Chicago actor," and refuse absolutely to believe that his start in the pro- fession was made elsewhere. At the conclusion of his contract with Mr. McVicker, O'Neill transferred his allegiance to Hooley's Theatre then, as now, a prosperous rival of the older house. In this stock com- pany he played many parts, and played them so suc- cessfully that Mr. Hooley, on going to San Francisco, took O'Neil with him for a special engagement of three months. The three months lengthened into a year ; and the Californians, won by his charm and delighted by his acting, were beginning to think that they had weaned him from the East for good and all, when A. M. Palmer, hearing of his success, coveted O'Neill's presence in his stock company at the Union Square Theatre, New York, beyond question the strongest corps of actors, viewed in its entirety, that the metrop- olis of the New World has possessed. O'Neill shared the leading parts with Charles R. Thorne, Jr., for two seasons. When we recall the cripple Pierre in " The Two Orphans," we think of James O'Neill; and when "The Danicheffs " is mentioned, it is to couple with that fine production his Prince. Two actors never afforded a sharper contrast than was afforded by the conjunction of Thorne and O'Neill, Thorne muscular, stalwart, dignified, strong in the consciousness of that matchless reserve power which lifted him to the pedestal of popu- lar admiration; O'Neill slender, sinuous, picturesque, mellow-voiced, passionate-eyed. ICach in his own way filled the public eye, each won his own triumphs. Res- tive as he had always been, O'Neill cherished a long- 304 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. ing to return to the city of the Golden Gate. When an offer came, as it did come before long, he brushed the dust of Manhattan from his buskin, and again located in San Francisco, where his friends welcomed him back with open arms. Here he remained nearly three years, toward the end of which period there came into his experience a singular thing. Many an actor has played the devil, both figuratively and literally ; but no actor, outside of the reverent band of peasant dev- otees at Oberammergau, except James O'Neill, has been called upon to play the Messiah. Maguire, his manager, had been induced by an erratic Jew named Salmi Morse to announce for production a Passion Play that Morse had written some time previously. Maguire was a speculator, shrewd, alert, enterpris- ing; and he saw a sensation in the scheme. O'Neill was asked by Maguire to play the Christ. At first the actor refused, although, according to the terms of his contract, he had no choice but to play the parts for which he was cast by the management. The idea of representing the Saviour on the stage of a theatre was repugnant to his strongly developed religious feelings. When he learned, however, that Morse's play had been revised and approved by a priest of the Catholic Church, he withdrew his objections, and consented to originate the character. He approached the impersonation in a fervid and reverent spirit ; to him it was not acting, it was devotion. His make-up was remarkable : his face suggested the beauty, the purity, and the divine com- passion that we find in the immortal canvases of the Italian masters. The interpretation made a deep im- pression ; but public opinion frowned upon the produc- tion, and after running a few weeks, during which the JAMES O'NEIL 305 theatre was packed nightly, it had to be withdrawn in obedience to the mandate of the authorities. In spite of this warning, Henry E. Abbey deter- mined to present Morse's play at Booth's Theatre, New York, which was then under his direction. He offered O'Neill five hundred dollars a week to play his origi- nal part, and O'Neill accepted. Mr. Abbey at once began to make elaborate preparations for the pro- duction. A large company of well-known actors was engaged, rehearsals began, and the theatre was re- christened " Booth's Tabernacle." Although it was announced with much emphasis that the affair would be conducted with the decorum and the zeal that marked the Oberammergau exhibitions, public opinion was against the Passion Play from the start. The pul- pit, irrespective of creed and denomination, thundered against the proposed desecration of the Christian reli- gion ; the leading members of the dramatic profession protested vehemently against the proposed desecration of the American theatre. The press poured murder- ous broadsides into the enterprise ; petitions were signed by thousands of representative citizens request- ing the Board of Aldermen to enact an ordinance pro- hibiting the performance ; dead-letter laws against blasphemy were brought to light ; and the manager, author, actors, and every one concerned in the obnox- ious venture, were threatened with arrest. As the date of the first representation drew near, the storm burst anew with redoubled fury. There were rumors of a riotous demonstration. It was too much for Mr. Abbey. He realized that he had made a mistake, and that to persist in his intention would be hazardous, not to say ruinous. A few days before the night set for the 306 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY production, he published a card in the newspapers, wherein he protested the honesty of his intentions, but yielded to the popular sentiment, and abandoned his plans. That was practically the death of the Passion Play in New York. Salmi Morse, enraged by the success of the popular opposition, took a church on the site of the present Twenty-third Street Theatre, and with capital supplied by Western speculators trans- formed it into a theatre, engaged a number of ama- teurs, and announced the performance. The police interfered, and prevented the sale of tickets. Then Morse sent out invitations to a private performance. The representation was a farce ; the play was found to be poor stuff, viewed from either a literary or an artistic standpoint. Morse lost the money of his back- ers and his reason simultaneously, and not long after- ward his lifeless body was found in the Hudson. Soon after the Passion Play incident, O'Neill ap- peared in an ephemeral play called " Deacon Crank- ett." He then made his first essay as a star "on the road " in a play by Charles Dazey, entitled " An American King." This venture was not crowned with pecuniary rewards. Not long afterward John Stet- son engaged him to play Edmond Dantes in " Monte Cristo," at Booth's Theatre, in New York. The extent of his personal success in this fine production of Fech- ter's dramatic version of Dumas's great story embol- dened O'Neill to buy the play and its entire outfit outright from Stetson, and to take it on tour under his own management. From that time through the suc- cessive seasons, O'Neill has starred as Edmond Dantes throughout the United States, achieving remarkable popularity with all classes of theatre-goers, and accumu- JAMES O'NEIL 307 lating a snug fortune. During a portion of the season of 18901891 he appeared in an elaborate production of " The Dead Heart," a gloomy old melodrama to which attention had been recalled by Henry Irving's sump- tuous revival at the London Lyceum Theatre. The public clamored for " Monte Cristo," and O'Neill found it expedient to respond to this demand. He made an effort to return to the drama of modern life with " The Envoy," which he presented in the spring of 1891 ; but the play was bad, and the result of the experiment was discouraging. The public preferred O'Neill in the old favorite with which he had been identified during the major portion of his starring career, and he yielded to its choice. Latterly he has appeared occasionally as Virginius, Richelieu, and Hamlet ; but in the future O'Neill undoubtedly will devote himself almost exclu- sively to the romantic drama. And this is as it should be, for among romantic actors O'Neill stands facile princcps. He has not the trained intellectual virility of Fechter, whose successor he may well be called ; but he possesses even in a greater degree Fechter's poetic charm and Fechter's enkindling power. His face is beautiful, beautiful in its cameo-like profile, and beautiful in its mobile ex- pressiveness. His eyes are large, dark, and lustrous, dreamy in repose, flashing in action. His mouth is sensitive, yet firm, the shade of sadness blending with its smile giving a strange interest to the whole counte- nance. 1 1 is movements are grace itself ; his attitudes are superbly picturesque. His voice is rich, mellow, and musical ; and it is susceptible of a wide range of expression. His speech is just tinged with a bit of the brogue that adds to, rather than detracts from, his 308 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. many singular graces. In the role of Dantes he dem- onstrates his mastery of the technique of stage art, and exhibits the versatility of his talents. Whether as the rollicking, nimble sailor of the prologue, or the ema- ciated convict making his bold stroke for liberty, or the gentle-voiced, sad-eyed priest, or the opulent Count of Monte Cristo, he is equally effective. Each phase of this complex character is perfectly shown; and the rapid alternation of the primal passions love, hate, revenge is powerfully exhibited. His " by-play " that severest test of an actor's resources is appropri- ate, fertile, characteristic. He rises to the full height of " situations " on pinions that seem equal to any ascent. He scores his " points," for "points" are inseparable from the roles of romantic stage heroes, not only with invariable precision, but with electrical effect. He seems made to move among the lords and the ladies, the velvets and laces and rapiers, of the ro- mantic drama ; and wherever he walks there is the centre of attraction. He has the graces, the art, the distinc- tion of bearing, the magnetic quality, that are necessary to put the vital spark into those artificial dramas that depict a life that never existed, and whose characters miraculously control events instead of being naturally controlled by events. No scene is unreal or improbable in which O'Neill appears; he shuts the door on reason, turns the key in the lock, and we sit entranced beneath the wondrous spell of the actor who can conjure us away from the actual, clothe dreams with flesh and blood, create a new world which we take on faith without a question, and charm us with its heroes and their marvellous exploits. MAGGIE MITCHELL. MAGGIE MITCHELL BY LUTHER L. HOLUEN. THE mere mention of the name gracing the head of this page brings before the mental vision of the elder generation of play-goers a petite and elfish creature, with a wealth of sunny, golden hair, whose nervous energy and sprightliness, no less than an exquisite form and face, gave picturesque presence to the line of child heroines she made peculiarly her own. As long as she chose to remain upon the stage, her public was of the class that is drawn to the theatre only by the best and purest in art. While Margaret Jane Mitchell's early career was devoid of exciting or thrilling incidents, it nevertheless becomes interesting to trace her upward steps upon the stage towards fame and fortune. Like all truly successful artists, she began at the foot of the ladder, although her first appearance, as a mere chit of a girl, was in a speaking part. This event took place in her native city of New York, and at a much later date than is generally supposed ; for the fact is that the subject of the present sketch has frequently been confounded with other actresses of the same name, who were upon the stage at the time, or else with older members of her own family, half-sisters. Her father was Scotch, 309 3 I O FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO DAY. and her mother English. The latter, at least, regarded the theatre with horror ; and it was greatly to her dis- may that she discovered, on her return from a visit to her old English home, that the child was actually " stage struck." Little Maggie had been placed out to board during her mother's absence, and continued attending school. An inmate of the household was Mary Provost, the daughter of a clergyman, who graduated from the posi- tion of a school-teacher to that of an actress, and who, at the time referred to, was being coached in some tragic characters by Mr. Wyzeman Marshall. The child was mystified as to the import of the stilted speeches she heard from an adjoining apartment, but soon took to imitating both teacher and pupil. About this time she was taken to a theatre the first she had ever entered to see the late Barney Williams play. This little glimpse of stageland fairly fascinated her. Books, children's sports, and all else were cast aside. Finding this state of things existing on her return, her mother determined to send the child out of the city, beyond such evil influences as the theatre. Overhear- ing a discussion of this project, the daughter became downright rebellious. It had so happened, that on her voyage back to America Mrs. Mitchell had met, among the passengers, Mr. John Moore, the old English actor, and his family, and found them very agreeable people. She told Mr. Moore about her daughter ; and, as the acquaintance was kept up after reaching New York, he came soon to know that the child had fallen in love with the foot- lights. Mr. Moore was connected with the stage direc- tion of Burton's Theatre in Chambers Street ; and when, MAGGIE MITCHELL. 311 on the occasion of a benefit to Mrs. Skcrrett, a member of Mr. Burton's company, a child was required to play the part of Julia in Cherry's comedy, " The Soldier's Daughter," he bethought himself of little Miss Maggie. It required some effort to win the mother's consent for her appearance, but it was finally gained ; and as no time was to be lost, Mr. Moore devoted Sunday to teaching his youthful protegee the part she was to play the succeeding night. The following morning she was taken by her mother to the theatre for rehearsal. Both then saw the mysterious region, " behind the scenes," for the first time; and it was the second time Maggie had been within the walls of a play-house. The youthful aspirant for stage honors was letter per- fect, both at rehearsal and at the evening performance ; and it is related of her that assurance gave her a degree of vehemence of delivery that fairly startled her hearers, Manager Burton included. Thus Miss Mitchell's first appearance on the stage was made on the 2d of June, 1851. That fine old comedian, William Rufus Blake, was The Governor Heartall ; the benefi- ciary, Mrs. Skerrett, played the Widow Cheerly ; and Miss Lizzie Western (afterwards Mrs. A. II. Daven- port) and Lester Wallack, who had gone upon the stage as Mr. Lester, were also in the cast. This event transpired at the end of the season, and there remained nothing else for Miss Maggie to do at Burton's. The ice was broken, however, and the stage had more allurements for her than ever. The ensuing season (1851-1852) found Mr. Moore occupying the position of prompter with Manager Thomas S. 1 Iam- bi in at the Bowery Theatre ; and here Miss Mitchell was given a permanent engagement as a member of 312 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. the company at the munificent salary of four dollars a week, while her mother furnished her stage dresses. Here she played a round of boys' characters, and danced between the acts with Gertrude Dawes. In the early part of the season she made a Shakespearian debut with an amusing result. Edwin Eddy was playing an engagement; and, in "Richard III.," Miss Maggie was cast for the part of Edward, the young Prince of Wales. The curtain rose on the third act to a fanfare of trumpets, and the prince was discovered awaiting the homage of the Lord Mayor of London. The fear- ful outburst of brazen music was too much for royal dignity. It had been omitted at rehearsal, and now struck terror to the heart of the youthful player, who had never before heard such dire sounds. With a frightened exclamation that she wanted to " go home," the thoroughly demoralized little actress bolted for the wings. It required the united force and persuasion of the Duke of Gloucester, the Lord Mayor, and the whole corporation, to bring the recalcitrant prince back again ; but the audience was already in roars of laugh- ter, and the curtain was rung down amid confusion. This little contretemps failed to dampen the young actress's ardor ; and not long after, during Mr. Eddy's same engagement, she received her first recall before the curtain, after playing in "The Lost Child." This incident, and another which occurred later in the season while she was playing Oliver Twist, doubtless marked the proudest moments of her life. Manager Hamblin, after witnessing the latter performance from his box, announced to Mrs. Mitchell that her daughter's salary should henceforth be increased to six dollars a week. It is doubtful if in after years, when Miss Mitchell's MAGGIE MITCHELL. 313 efforts won for her more than a thousand times as many dollars weekly, she experienced a tithe of the satisfaction and happiness this first modest increase of salary afforded. Some slight on the part of the man- agement led Mrs. Mitchell to withdraw her daughter from Mr. Hamblin's Company ; and the now popular comedienne played in Baltimore, under Manager Ar- nold, and elsewhere. About this time Mr. Moore took a company over to Newark for a night or two; and we find Miss Mitchell playing Claude Melnotte, Richard, and Young Norval, in an act each of " The Lady of Lyons," " Richard III.," and " Douglas." In 1853 she joined Mr. James Hall Robinson's Company when that gentleman opened a theatre on the Bowery, and enacted Evelyn Wilson in the drama of the same name, which had a run of several weeks. Although Miss Mitchell's impersonation created a strong impres- sion, Mr. Robinson's enterprise in the end turned out badly ; and the company was taken to Boston, where, on Sept. 5, 1853, at Robinson's Eagle Theatre, as the rejuvenated American Theatre in Sudbury Street was called, Miss Mitchell appeared in the same play. Cleveland was next favored with Miss Mitchell's presence, and as the soubrette of Manager Nichols's Company she played in a round of comediettas and pro- tean pieces with great success. There was, indeed, a Maggie Mitchell craze ; and the young men of the town took to wearing " Maggie Mitchell scarfs," hats, and the like. Here it was, too, that she met the venerable English actor, John G. Cartlitch, then a white-haired old man and Manager Nichols's stage-director. Some years later the generous-hearted actress found the old man in Philadelphia reduced to the lowest depths of 314 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. poverty, and henceforth supported him. When the grateful recipient of her bounty died he left her his most precious possessions, some little souvenirs of his dead wife and of his early triumphs on the English boards. The letters of sympathy Miss Mitchell had written to him were by his direction placed with him in the grave. Miss Mitchell's first starring engagement followed her Cleveland season, and this was played at Pitts- burg under James Foster's management. Her reper- tory at this time included such parts as Harry Halcyon in " A Middy Ashore," Margery in " A Rough Dia- mond," Gertrude in " The Loan of a Lover," Paul in Buckstone's " Pet of the Petticoats," Bob Nettles in "To Parents and Guardians," The Countess in James Pilgrim's " Wild Irish Girl," and Katty O'Sheal in Pilgrim's farce of the same name. The protean piece entitled J< The Four Sisters," "An Object of Interest," "A Husband at Sight," "The Daughter of the Regi- ment," " Satan in Paris," and a farce written for her by Pilgrim and called " Our Maggie," were also on the list. For several years she continued to star through the country in pieces of this character with increasing success; and it was not until 1861 that " Fanchon the Cricket," the play with which her name became so inseparably connected, was produced. Its first repre- sentation was given at the St. Charles Theatre, New Orleans, then under the management of Ben De Bar ; and the original cast included Charles Pope as Landry Barbeaud, Alvin Read as Didier, R. F. McClannin as Father Barbeaud, and Mrs. Hind as Old Fadet. The piece is a dramatization of George Sand's story " La Petite Fadette ; " but strangely enough it reached MAGGIE MITCHELL. 315 the American stage in a roundabout way, having been translated by Mr. August Waldauer, Mr. De Bar's orchestral leader, from a play already very popular on the German stage. So little faith had both the man- agement and Miss Mitchell in " Fanchon," that two other pieces "The Maid of the Milking-Pail " and "The Bonnie Fishwife" were put up for the same night. The new play was, however, a success from the start, on account of the childlike freshness and vivacity of Miss Mitchell's acting. Many changes were made from the original, and many new features were intro- duced. The weird, elfish shadow dance, for example, was wholly Miss Mitchell's creation, although some- thing similar had been seen in Meyerbeer's opera of " Dinorah." The pretty maypole dance was another interpolation. From New Orleans Miss Mitchell took the play to Montgomery, where she was already a favorite ; but the breaking out of the war caused her to abandon a further Southern tour, and she returned North. On the 3d of June, 1861, she began an en- gagement at the Boston Museum ; and a week later (June 10) "Fanchon" was produced with one of the most remarkable casts it ever had, W. II. Whalley playing Landry ; William Warren, Father Barbeaud ; John Wilson, Didier ; Mrs. Vincent, Mother Barbeaud; Miss Mitchell's elder sister Mary (now Mis. Albaugh), Old Fadet ; and Miss Jennie Anderson, Madelon. It was later, however, at the Howard Athenrcum, that the play made its great Boston hit ; and later still, at the Boston Theatre, it filled the great auditorium to overflowing in a succession of annual engagements. In New York Mrs. Mitchell hired the New Olympic, formerly Laura Keene's Theatre, for her daughter's 316 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. first appearance as Fanchon in that city; and with the aid of a strong company, which included James W. Collier, "Dolly" (A. H.) Davenport, and J. H. Stod- dart, the play had a brilliant run of six weeks. While " Fanchon " was being played at the Boston Theatre in one of Miss Mitchell's annual engagements at that house, it was witnessed by the distinguished German tragedian, Bogumil-Dawison, who, although un- familiar with the English tongue, was enabled to follow the action closely through his knowledge of the Ger- man original. So greatly delighted was he with Miss Mitchell's impersonation, that he made his way to the stage after the performance, and offered to take the actress and the entire company to Germany for a pro- tracted engagement. Charlotte Cushman, too, ear- nestly advised the actress to play Fanchon abroad, but the counsel was never heeded. The German actress who had played Fanchon so successfully in Europe contemplated an American tour ; but Dawison per- suaded her to give it up, and she afterward wrote a graceful tribute to the American actress who had dis- tinguished herself in the part. The very marked success of " Fanchon " led authors and adapters to send scores of pieces to Miss Mitchell for acceptance, but unfortunately most of the writers sought to create another Cricket. A further result of her well-earned triumph was that the stage soon saw hosts of imitators, a stolen copy of a prompt-book opening the way for reproductions of the play. While several really talented comediennes essayed the rble, none ever made an impression on the public which in the slightest degree tended to dim the lustre of the American original. MAGGIE MITCHELL. 317 In later years Miss Mitchell played other characters, winning a series of brilliant stage triumphs ; but none of them came fully up to the standard of " Fanchon," which remained as great a favorite as ever. Among her other pieces have been " The Pearl of Savoy " and " Little Barefoot," both of which were first played by her in Boston. The latter was a translation by Mr. Waldauer from the German. " Lorle," also from the German, was first translated by Mr. J. Rosewald, an- other orchestral leader, and afterwards rewritten by Mr. Fred Maeder. " Mignon " was an adaptation by Mr. George B. Runnion of Chicago. "Jane Eyre," which may perhaps be accounted Miss Mitchell's next most successful essay after " Fanchon," was first brought out by her at McVicker's Theatre, Chicago. A play under a different title, and claimed to be original, had been submitted to her by the late Clifton W. Tayleure. The demands of a busy season with much travelling from city to city had prevented her from giving the manuscript more than a cursory examination, and she reached Chicago without hav- ing fully informed herself regarding its merits. Mr. McVicker had promised the public that the star should appear in a new part in the course of her engagement, and the difficulty was to find something to fill the bill. An untried piece of some sort which had been sent to the actress was talked of; but upon examination Mr. McVicker declared it to be unsuited to her, and it was laid aside. With many misgivings Mr. Tayleure's manuscript was fished out, and it was not long before the veteran actor and manager discovered the plot and incidents to be those of "Jane Eyre." An adap- tation of Charlotte Bronte's story had already found 318 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. favor in New York; and Miss Mitchell had made over- tures towards securing a copy, not dreaming even that she had at the same time a version of the piece in her possession. No sooner had Mr. McVicker decided to produce Mr. Tayleure's dramatization, than Miss Mitchell set about studying the character in the most practical way, not merely by conning her lines from the manuscript, but by reading the novel itself, and thus gaining a fuller insight into the author's creation. The play was a signal success under its proper title, and for many seasons " Jane Eyre " remained a prime favorite with the public of all the great cities from Boston to San Francisco. In the former city, the poet Longfellow, who was a great admirer of Miss Mitchell's acting, witnessed the impersonation, and earnestly advised the actress to take the play to England. In later years, when the Bronte memorial was established, English friends of the gifted writer wrote to Miss Mitchell in token of acknowledgment of her powerful portrayal of Jane Eyre. One of the many plays written for Miss Mitchell was entitled " Marie," and its author was the Hon. John D. Long. While the piece showed the polished diction of the scholarly writer, it had not the elements calcu- lated to win popularity. Its first and only representa- tions were given at the Boston Theatre, where also a new fifth act of " Fanchon," from the pen of the gifted clergyman, the late Rev. John Weiss, was pro- duced with no better results. The reverend gentleman sought to make the moral of the play all the more im- pressive by bringing the little heroine to her grand- mother's grave ; but while the scene was made touching, it gave the play an ending that was much too sombre. MAGGIE MITCHELL. 319 While one of the ex-governors of Massachusetts, as al- ready mentioned, sought to contribute to Miss Mitchell's stage popularity, another honored chief executive of the Old Bay State, the Hon. Frederic T. Green- halge, was able to claim near relationship to the favorite actress, being a cousin. Among the happy incidents of Miss Mitchell's career, well remembered by many theatre-goers, were her essays of Parthcnia in " Ingo- mar," and Pauline in "The Lady of Lyons," on benefit occasions. Since her withdrawal from the stage, Miss Mitchell, or Mrs. Abbott as she is known in domestic life, has resided at her beautiful summer home in Elberon, N.J., or at her elegant New York abode, in the enjoy- ment of the abundant fruits of her successful profes- sional career. Her husband, formerly a well-known actor and manager, is engaged in mercantile pursuits. An accomplished young daughter resides with her, and a son is a rising young merchant in Boston. These are children by a former marriage. If we examine Miss Mitchell's stage art to discover the secret of her really wonderful success, we readily find that naturalness and a seeming absence of art are its essential qualities. Favored by nature with a youth- ful presence, which aided her, even in her latest ap- pearances before the public, in rendering her child heroines peculiarly attractive, she added to such native attributes the full measure of youthful spirits and ani- mation. Her portrayals were unique, and yet nothing more than the holding of the mirror before nature's self. She had the rare faculty of painting the picture of maidenly purity and nobility of soul most deftly; and her audience laughed when she laughed, and wept 320 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. when she wept. Not infrequently the smiles shone through tears, so closely and truthfully were the vary- ing moods of Fanchon's nature contrasted. Her vivid portrayal of childhood's sorrows and joys, of its bit- ter trials and noble triumphs, was the very perfection of dramatic art, and yet something beyond the mere achievements of the clever actress. It was the art which made a pure and ennobling stage creation all the more impressive by reason of the soul behind it all. Alas! the characters and the plays which served to make Maggie Mitchell so great a favorite with fathers and mothers, and so much beloved by every child, are no longer in fashion. Such things are too tame for the present day, since the rising generation of play- goers crave more highly seasoned food. Good actors there are, and always will be ; but there can never be one who will exert a purer and better influence upon the American stage than the genial and winsome comedienne whose genius these few pages seek to commemorate. LOTTA CRABTREE. LOTTA CRABTREE. BY DESHLER WELCH. JOHN BROUGHAM'S well-known expression that Lotta was a dramatic cocktail smacked of the language of a bon vivant more than it did of a man whose brains, on this occasion, should have been somewhat separable from the workings of his stomach. It sounded bright, but it was as insidious as the drink itself. In all my recollections of the stage, my fondest hold up Lotta. She filled my boyish thoughts with a healthy delight and most extraordinary sentiment. I could not imagine, for instance, that Lotta, as she ap- peared in "The Firefly " or " Little Nell," could eat a buckwheat cake in a commonplace way. Angel food, or bonbons and rose leaves, would have been all right. I worshipped her at the footlight shrine just as many other young fellows did ; and it was an admiration very different from that declared nowadays by pasty men who wait at stage entrances in the hopes of a flirtation with some young farce-comedy woman, whose vulgar antics are as far removed from the childish romps of Lotta as the cabbage-flower differs from the violet. She was a remarkable picture then of mischievous femininity. She simply seemed to be having a grand good time, without the least suggestion of those incar- 321 322 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. nate foibles which the modern-day stage has produced, with so much alluring effect, in its exhibition of deplo- rable impudence. It is not very many years ago that a plain poster with the simple announcement, " Lotta," was electrical in its effect on the theatre-going public in any play- house throughout the country. These people did not discuss her performances critically, from the histrionic point of view, any more than a mother would expect her child in frocks to have all the accomplishments of a cotillion dancer, or a man would expect to compare the funny joyousness of an affectionate St. Bernard pup to the grace of the grown greyhound. Lotta's naturalness got into your heart somehow, and she seemed as gentle and sweet and innocent as the bound- ing pink-eyed bunny in the fragrant caress of a clover- bed. The criticaster said, however, that she could not act; that it was n't art, that she simply was herself. Well, that was just what we wanted. If she had been Sarah Bernhardt or Parepa Rosa, she would have been differ- ent. Yet there is an opinion lurking somewhere among intelligent men that there is considerable art in being natural on the stage, particularly when that natural- ness is kept up to the bubbling point, such as Lotta's. Her Marchioness and Nitouche were each accentuated by different degrees of art. Had she dropped into a New York theatre as a Parisian actress, her Nitouche would have captured the town. But Theo had pre- viously performed it here ; and the little American woman did not have the pull with that superficial pub- lic that talked about graceful French chic, and got it mixed up with the suggestive contortion of a cafe cJian- LOTTA CRABTREE. 323 tant. Of the two impersonations, Lotta's Nitouche seemed to me to be the more consistent and natural, and certainly more magnetic in its touch upon the strings of the heart. It had its production at the Grand Opera House, New York, March 29, 1886. Lotta's stage career has been a remarkable one. She began it when she was a very little girl. She was born in New York City in 1847, and when she was ten years old played the part of Gertrude in a performance of " Loan of a Lover," in San Francisco. She instantly attracted attention, and was regarded as a wonderful child. In 1860 she returned East, and made a hit in New York in a farce written for her by Charles Gaylor, called " Four to One." This was followed by a long engagement at Wallack's Theatre at Thirteenth Street and Broadway, in John Brougham's dramatization of "The Old Curiosity Shop," and called "Little Nell and the Marchioness." Her acting in both parts de- lighted many people. Subsequently she established herself as a great favorite throughout the country in such plays as "The Little Detective," "The Firefly," "Heartsease," "Zip," and "Musette," all of which were either written or adapted to suit her original ways. The last two plays were by Frederick Mars- den, and she was chiefly successful in them. "The Little Detective" always remained in Lotta's n'pcrtoirc, and was an excellent medium to display her versatility. She acted half a dozen different characters in this with fascinating and charming grace. Nothing could have been funnier than her apparent discomfiture when as a hoyden she was put into long skirts and taught to assume the airs and affectations of a lady. Most of her plays were written to show transition from 324 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY low to high life; and generally the first comedian was the lover who stuck to the heroine, as she stuck to him, through thick and thin. The leading man was always the villain of the piece. But this accomplished the pur- pose of the author, by allowing Lotta to introduce her "specialties," her songs and dances. In these she was unexcelled. Then "skirt dancers" were unknown as a distinct attraction in art. Lotta could kick as high as her head, and play the banjo ; and she did these things as she did everything else, with a most charming na- tvctt. She seemed to act with the same spirit of enjoy- ment that her audiences manifested, and she would tire out her little body by answers to encore after encore. I remember on one occasion, in the old Buffalo Acad- emy of Music, when the late Benjamin G. Rogers was the leading comedian, that, in answer to thunderous acclamations of pleasure, she repeated the postilion's song from the opera of " Le Postilion " no less than eight times. Finally, panting for breath, she said very audibly : " What do you say, Ben ; shall we sing it again?" It was during another engagement later on, in Buffalo, in playing a melodrama called "Hearts- ease," that Lotta met with a severe fall through a trap- door, from which, I have understood, she never fully recovered. On another occasion, at Wallack's Theatre, while playing the banjo, a cat darted across the stage. With almost childish wonderment, Lotta cried out: "Why, look at that big cat ! " and then, as if suddenly remem- bering where she was, went on strumming, to the vociferous delight of the audience, which indication seemed to amaze her all the more. It was in such glee and pleasure that Lotta won her way. Her petite- LOTTA CKABTREE. 325 ness and her daintiness, the sweetness of her face, and her curly red ringlets, were never successfully put in photograph or on canvas. To have caught the dimples, or the expression of her upper lip, why, it would have been just as easy to have stopped the sunbeam darting aslant the lilac trembling in the summer's breeze ! Lotta was always a great favorite behind the scenes in all theatres, treating the supporting company with much consideration and friendliness ; and it was in the halcyon period of her success that we had those good days for dramatic art, when nearly every city had its stock company. In my records I find that some notable casts were obtained for her pieces. At the Boston Theatre, in September, 1868, in the performance of " Little Nell and the Marchioness," James Lewis played Dick Swiveller. In October of the same year, in "Firefly," Charles R. Thome, Jr., played Harold Cecil ; James Lewis, Rakes ; and II. A. Weaver, Colo- nel Chatumvay. In May, 1870, at the same theatre, in " The Little Detective," H. L. Murdoch played Pha- bus Rockaway, anil Dan Maguinnis played Stuyvesant. The following October, in " Little Nell," C. Leslie Allen played Old Trent ; Murdoch played Dick ; Weaver, Ouilp ; and Mrs. Charles Poole played Mrs. Parley. In November of that year, Lotta produced "The Ticket-of-Leave Man," acting the part of Sam Wil- loughby. Neil Warner was Hob Brierly, Louis Aldrich was Hawkshaw, Weaver was James Dalton, Allen was Melton Moss, Mrs. Poole was Mrs. Willoughby, ami Rachel Noah was May. With the change of the stock-company system by 326 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. the encroaching " combinations," Lotta was compelled to travel with her own company. She has had, in their turn, as supporting comedian, E. A. Locke, who played with her for several seasons, Fred R. Wren, John Howson, and C. H. Bradshaw. Lotta's last season was in 1891. She introduced two new plays, " Pawn Ticket 210," and " Ina." In speaking of her appearance at that time it was written : " This rare genius has lost no whit of her magnetic power to please, nor does she hang out on the outer walls any banner proclaiming the flight of years. She looks as young, acts as vivaciously, and cuts up as cutely as she did twenty years ago. This is Lotta's tribute to good sense and wise living in freshness, personal charm, and eternal youth, Lotta is the eighth wonder of the world ! " It has been rightly said of Lotta that she was the creator and sole representative of a school that was as well defined and as well understood as was the school of the Kembles in their day ; as the school of Garrick and Kean (who punctured inflated Kembleism), when they set up nature as the goddess of their idolatry. The charm of Lotta's acting penetrated every heart ; she defied convention ; she was not measurable by rule or line. The secret of her charm was as hidden as the scent of the rose; it was there somewhere; those iconoclasts who sought to find it were like the Persian poet in his hunt for the hereafter "they evermore came out by the door wherein they went." Lotta was incomparable and inimitable. As for her imitators they have, alas, been legion, but they were only the sickly hue of the waxen image. Lotta maintained her youthful appearance and vigor LOTTA CRABTREE. 327 to a wonderful extent up to the time of her retirement. She has remained apparently very happy in celibacy, under the chaperonage of a devoted mother, who has been her constant companion and business manager. They have made good investments, and to-day Lotta is considered the wealthiest woman on the stage. She owns a great deal of property in the West, several buildings in Boston, including the Park Theatre, and has a most charming home on the shores of Lake Hopatcong, where she lives most of the time. There is n't a bird more free than she is, none that sings with more gladness than she does ; and the acorn that falls in her path, or the first woodland flower that she sees, are simply little bits of the ever-recurring changes of nature that are just as fresh to her now as at any time in her busy life. MINNIE MADDERN-FISKE. BY MILDRED ALURICH. WHENEVER the very most has been made, for theat- rical purposes, of a woman's character, temperament, intellect, it has in the most cases been accomplished by the discreet manipulation, the enthusiastic encour- agement, the practical impetus, of a second person, one who can stand apart and see a woman as she cannot see herself; one who has the head to recognize her possibilities, and the artistic instinct to make the most of them. Ability being granted, the first step toward a great career is a start in the right direction. It is notorious that women do not know themselves, and that charge against the sex has had innumerable proofs in the history of women on the stage. To that undoubted truth must be traced the fact that Minnie Maddern has not even yet achieved the success to which her unquestioned gifts seem to entitle her, and which many a woman with no part of her endowments has won. There is a strange and inexplicable incon- sistency between the claims which many an actor, manager, and reliable critical authority make for her dramatic equipment in the way of temperament and magnetism, and the actual result of a career which reached from her babyhood to her marriage at the age 328 MINNIE MADDERN FISKE MINNIE MADDERN-FISKE. 329 of twenty-five, and after six years of retirement was taken up again at the age of thirty-one. The result of that career is to be traced directly to a false start, and that in its turn to the fact that she was left to her own mistaken guidance; and gifted as she is, she knows absolutely nothing of her own nature and its great possibilities. Born almost on the stage ; familiar with its routine from the time that she learned to toddle ; used to the footlights, to the sound of her own voice in the play- house, to the excitement of endeavor, to the exhilara- tion of applause, when but three years old ; a pet with the actors of the days when the drama had more force if less polish than it has to-day ; playing the entire round of juvenile roles, from soubrettes and boys to young heroines, from leaders of marches to victims of local melodramas, from Shakespeare's lads to fairy gods, in the days before long runs were known, or the one- part actor thought of, when the way of the actor was one of work, and was neither strewn with rose-leaves nor walled with adulation ; starred at sixteen, and re- tired at twenty-five, having run the entire gamut of stage experiences such up to 1890 was the history of Minnie Maddern. Then marriage and a brief re- tirement made a sharp break in her career. She was a veritable enfant dc la ballc. Her maternal grandmother was an English girl of fine family, who thought the world well lost for love, and married a music-master, who bore the name which the actress kept for a stage name. For a time the young couple are said to have lived happily under the offended noses of the wife's nice-feeling relatives ; but when the disinheriting father died, and realistically cut 33 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. them off with the traditional shilling, they came to America to seek their fortune. They were a prolific race ; and ultimately, with their seven children, all of whom were musically gifted, they organized an orchestra, and made tours. The family traditions treasure the fact that when just in her teens Lizzie Maddern, one of the most gifted of the children, and the mother of Minnie, could score an entire opera for the orchestra. Lizzie Maddern was afterwards a well-known actress in the South and West. She became the wife of Thomas Davey, the pioneer manager of the Western circuit, of whom his daughter laughingly remarks, " He had the microscopic eye of the manager, for I am sure he discovered towns in the West the very existence of which had never been suspected by any one else." He was a small, wiry man, whose red hair his daughter inherited, and much of whose erratic dis- position she also adds to the histrionic gifts her mother gave her. Stories of "Tom" Davey still crop up in the West. Eastern actors find the chronicles of the stage out there rich with them; for his wit equalled his temper, and his waywardness and eccentricity were enormous. Minnie Maddern was born in New Orleans in one of the late war years. Her first recollections are of the theatre, where night after night, when but two years old, she slept in her mother's dressing-room, being stowed out of the way in a huge dress trunk, the cover to which was raised between the light and the sleeping child. The nervous little girl would not remain with her nurse at the hotel. Naturally the inheritor of dramatic gifts did not stay long in this MINNIE MADDERN-FISKE. 33 I retirement. She sought her place as naturally and as persistently as water seeks its level. From poking about and mussing up the dressing-room, from going on voyages of discovery on the dressing-table, and dis- organizing the make-up box, all in her baby attempts at order, she was graduated to the stage, as being easier to care for there. From her improvised crib she had furtively watched her pretty mamma making quick changes ; she had eyed curiously the spangled skirts, the blond wig, the blackened eyebrows. She had breathed the fatal odor of the theatre. To return her to domestic life was impossible. She had drawn deep into her lungs that ether which seems poisonous to those not born to it, that compound of dust, gas, paint, unventilated, musty space, out of which those success- fully inoculated never seem to be quite alive. So the realm behind the footlights became her world, its painted canvas her nature, its "props" her playthings, they were the real things of life to her. She felt its painted trees more real to her than forests. She loved it as her native land ; and though she has voyaged wearily out of it in search of change, she came back to it again. If it were possible for her to write the history of her early clays, it would be an admirable epitome of the rise of the American stage, though not of the American actor. Though they did not play in inn yards as they did in the days of Queen Bess, their theatre was fre- quently the dining-room of a poor inn ; their stage the tables lashed together. Those were the days of long rfycrtoircs, before scenery was more than a detail, and when costumes were few and cheap. Such was the state of the West when Minnie Maddern, after much ACTORS OF TO-DAY. clamoring, was, during one of her father's tours, allowed a real hearing. All that she now remembers of the occasion is that she wore a Scotch kilt made by her mother, and sang between the tragedy and comedy, as was the custom, a piece about Jamie coming over the meadow, after which she danced the Highland Fling. Her first legitimate appearance was made at Little Rock, Ark. ; but of that even the actress's memory has no record save the fact and the part. To quote her own words, " I cannot even remember who played Richard to my Duke of York." A little later, however, she repeated that performance in New Orleans, when she was in the company supporting the Irish tragedian Barry Sullivan. I am told that the poor, erratic, iras- cible Sullivan had a hard time with her. Though little more than a baby, she seemed to have been born with the actor's bravado, which, no matter how badly things may go at the last rehearsal, is always certain that " it will be all right at night." It was nearly impossible to get her to learn her lines. She liked acting, but had an actor's contempt for the author. One evening she was cast for the apparition which bears the tree in the caldron scene in " Macbeth," and which, bidding the bold Scot " be lion-mettled," assures him that " until Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill Shall come against him," he shall never be vanquished. A funny little slip of a ghost she must have been in her white nightgown, with her bristling red top. The audience certainly found her so. Up to that point the play had gone MINNIE MADDERX-FISKE. 333 well. The solemn entrance of the curious little appari- tion, who paused gravely to recover her breath and her balance, was greeted by the hitherto breathless audience with a shout of laughter. Nothing discon- certed she began to sputter, " Be lion-mettled, proud ; and take no heed where perspirers are." A shout went up, and through his teeth the tragedian hissed, " Take her down ; " and the little ghost shot out of sight, much to her own disgust. Only infinite coaxing and well-kept promises of " lollipops " enabled Sullivan to pull her through that season ; but he did it. From that time her career was an active one. She played the entire round of juvenile parts with Sullivan, Willie Lee in Laura Keene's production of "Hunted Down;" all the juvenile roles during Lucille Western's last Southern tour ; Little Fritz in Emmet's original production of "Fritz," at Wallack's Theatre and Niblo's, New York; Paul in the great production of "The Octoroon," Philadelphia; Franko in "Guy Mannering," with Mrs. Waller; Sibyl in " A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing," with Carlotta Le- clercq ; Mary Morgan in " Ten Nights in a Barroom," with Yankee Locke, in Boston; the child in Oliver Doud Byron's scenic production of "Across the Con tinent;" Damon's son in " Damon and Pythias," with K. L. Davenport; both Heinrich and Minna in " Rip Van Winkle;" Prince Arthur in "King John," at Booth's Theatre, New York, with John McCullough, Junius Booth, and Agnes Booth in the cast; Adrienne in " Monsieur Alphonse ; " the boy's part in " Bosom Friends;" Alfred in the first road production of "Divorce;" Georgie in " Frou-Frou," with Mrs. Scott- Siddons during her first American tour; the child in 334 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. "The Chicago Fire," produced at the Olympic, New York; Hilda in Emmet's "Karl and Hilda;" Francois in "Richelieu." When but ten years old she played the Sun God in the great spectacle, " The Ice Witch, " which David Bidwell produced in New Orleans ; and had appeared prominently in "Aladdin," "The White Faun," and other scenic pieces. She was but twelve years old, when, owing to an unexpected vacancy in the company with which she was travelling, she played Louise in "The Two Orphans," and Lucy Fairweather in "The Streets of New York." She often "doubled" the gamin and Peachblossom in "Under the Gaslight." Before she was fourteen she had played Marjorie in "The Rough Diamond," and in "The Little Rebel," led many marches, of which, by the way, she is almost as proud as she is of having played old women's parts with success at the age of fifteen. At odd times she went to school in Montreal, New Orleans, and Louisville, attended the Ursuline Convent at St. Louis, and a French school in Cincinnati, and wherever the company stayed any length of time she went to a private school. Her mother, however, was her constant teacher. Her last part before she started out as a star was the soubrette part in " The Mes- senger from Jarvis Centre Section," in support of Macauley. In May, 1882, she made her debut as a star, opening at the Park Theatre, New York (since burned), as Chip in a deplorably bad play, written by Charles Callahan, entitled " Fogg's Ferry." It is from the winter of that year that my knowledge of Miss Maddern dates. It was the week before Christmas, notoriously the very worst theatrical week in the sea- son, that Minnie Maddern was billed to appear at the MINNIE MADDERN FISKE. 335 Park Theatre in Boston. A few persistent theatre- goers might have remembered the child-actress who had a few years before appeared in " Ten Nights in a Barroom," but evidently they did not, for no men- tion was made of the fact ; so it was quite as a stranger that the actress was heralded here. No mention was made of her professional career ; but great stress was laid on the fact that she was the ward of the New Orleans Continental Guard, and by that body she was commended to the tender mercies of the Boston militia. I had been asked by a member of the local body to assist him in keeping his word to a brother officer in New Orleans, and to call on the young actress ; and, as so often happens, I set about what proved to be a delightful experience in a most indifferent frame of mind. She was absolutely unknown to me, and noth- ing that had been done to advertise her had attracted my attention. It was twilight on a very cold day when I knocked at her room at Hotel Vendome. A clear voice bade me enter, and in a moment I had forgotten my cold drive. It was a voice which I can never forget, and which even as I write of it comes back to my ear with a strange, delicious insistence. As the door closed be- hind me, there rose from the depths of a large chair, and stood between me and the dim light from the window, a slender, childish figure, in a close-fitting dark gown. The fading light, the dark dress, threw into greater relief the pale face with its small features and deep eyes, above and around which, like a halo, was a wealth of curling red hair. I had been told that she was young; but I was not prepared for any such unique personality as hers, and I still remember the 336 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. sensation of the surprise she was to me as a most delightful experience. This was not the conventional young actress to whom I had been accustomed, this slight, undeveloped figure, in its straight, girlish gown only reaching to the slender ankles. There was a pretty assumption of dignity, there was a constant cropping out in bearing, in speech, in humor, and in gestures of delicious, inimitable, unconcealable youth, which was most fetching, and which had something so infinitely touching in it. I have never encountered a face more variable. At one moment I would think her beautiful. The next instant a quick turn of the head would give me a differ- ent view of the face, and I would say to myself, " She is plain ; " then she would speak, and that beautiful musical mezzo, so uncommon to American ears, and from which a Boston man once emotionally declared "feeling could be positively wrung, so over saturated was it," would touch my heart, and all else would be forgotten. Such was Minnie Maddern when I first met her on her eighteenth birthday ; and I cannot see that the years have changed her much, though they have a little rounded the still willowy figure. I felt even then her emotional possibilities, and shall never forget my disappointment when later in the week I witnessed her performance in " Fogg's Ferry." It was a play in which Lotta or Annie Pixley might have appeared, and bad enough for even them to fail in. Miss Maddern had no qualification save the most thor- ough training to make a play of that sort "go." Her natural instincts were too true to allow her to abandon herself to the staginess necessary to make such a play a success, and her delicacy and charm were valueless in the part. MINNTE MADDERX-FISKE. 337 It is impossible to understand how the fatal error of supposing her adapted to such plays was made, unless she was blinded by the thought of Lotta's hun- dreds of thousands, and Maggie Mitchell's blocks of real estate the results in their cases of that very recognition of personality and limitations which was lacking in Miss Maddern's, and which condemned a girl who should have developed the power to play such a Camille as the American stage has not contributed yet, to doing soubrette work in a third-rate play. At that time, young as she was, she had been three years a wife, having married at the age of fifteen Legrand White, a clever xylophone soloist in the orchestra of a Western theatre. The cause and result of this deplorable marriage have no place here, where the fact is simply set down as history. In 1884 she presented at the new Park Theatre, New York, "Caprice," which had been written for her by Howard P. Taylor. Though by no means a strong play, it gave her an opportunity to show much of her natural equipment. The rare endowment of individual femininity was its most notable characteristic. The humor of her smile was delicious. The pathos of her voice heart-catching. The oddity of her appearance amounted to originality. She had a peculiar gift of emotion, uniting tears and smiles in the same breath, which was more pathetic than undiluted grief, and more diverting than undiluted laughter. It was the very rainbow of emotion, promising joy while it spoke of sad- ness, and flaunting sorrow in the face of happiness. It constantly had one at a disadvantage in its surprises. In September, 1885, Steele Mackaye's adaptation of "Andrea," which Sardou wrote fur Agnes Kthel, and 338 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. in which she made her great success, was produced at the Lyceum Theatre, New York, with Miss Maddern in the leading part. It bore the unmelodious, preju- dicially cheap title " In Spite of All." She was supported by a strong company, including Richard Mansfield, and the play ran for nearly a season. While confessing all the crudities which severe critics found in her delinea- tion of this part, the third act was a great performance. It is a scene in which a young wife, having seen with her own eyes her husband in the dressing-room of a popular actress, having with her own ears heard him plan a sort of elopement, has returned to her home to await his arrival preparatory to quitting her and the country for a woman who cares only for his admiration. The wife is young, but she is brave ; and she determines to make a tour de force for the sake of keeping beside her the man whom she adores, in spite of his infidelity, the man without whom she cannot live, and whom she is determined to save from himself until she can rouse his moral sense. I know no actress and sweeping as the statement is I do not wish to qualify it who could have given to this scene the charm which Miss Maddern gave it. Its grief, its courage, its womanli- ness, were so human that many an old stager who thought his day for tears had passed paid it an involun- tary tribute. In that one scene in a play full, I con- fess, of mistaken bits, was felt at that time the divine instincts which gave to the French stage the Sarah Bernhardt of the Comedie Franchise, and to the London stage an Ellen Terry; and widely as the careers differ, these three women were in my thoughts of the stage temperamentally bracketed, until the rise of Duse, whom Maddern is still more like. MINNIE MADDERN-FISKE. 339 For a few years after the withdrawal of this play, Miss Minnie was on the road, and once more living over her early career in the West. In May, 1890, she reappeared in New York in the title role of " Feather- brain," an 'English comedy presented at the Madison Square Theatre, and in which Miss Maddern's quaint humor made quite an impression. She did not care for the part herself, and opinions differ widely in regard to her performance. I cannot speak personally of it, as I did not visit New York while it was running. Her last appearance, before her retirement, was made in February, 1890, the iSth, I think, at Toronto, in " In Spite of All ;" and March 19, 1890, she was married at Larchmont, N.Y., to Mr. Harrison Grey Fiske, the editor of the New York Dramatic Minvr. From her marriage to the winter of 1893, Minnie Maddern-Fiske lived quietly in New York, and for two years of that time she showed little sign of returning to the stage. She was active with her pen, writing a play with her husband for James O'Neil, " Fontenelle," and with Paul Kesker for Madame Modjeska, "The Countess Rodine," and doing several little curtain raisers which were acted and printed. Several times she appeared for charity in New York, and whenever she did actors were wildly enthusiastic about her. Nov. 20, 1893, at the 'Fremont Theatre in Bos- ton she reappeared in the title role of "Hester Crewe," a play by her husband, and a strangely bad play, suggesting at points George Eliot's story of "Adam Hede." This play was a disastrous failure, although it proved that the actress was still possessed of magnetic repose, and that her odd personality had not sunk into commonplaceness in retirement. For 34 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. two years more she was in retirement, and then in the early fall she started out again touring West and South ; and reaching New York March 21, 1896, where at the Garden Theatre she again bid for favor. As usual the critics dubbed her great of temperament, wonderful in her power of repose, her unconventionally, her truth, and her uniqueness of personal expression. The play she produced was " Marie Deloche," a version of Al- phonse Daudet and Leon Hennique's " La Menteuse," which was first produced at the Gymnase, Paris, Feb. 4, 1892, a subtle study most admirably portrayed. Mrs. Fiske has played also Dumas's u La Femme de Claude," never before given in English ; Nora in Ibsen's "Doll's House" which she first gave at a charity benefit, two years before ; a little realistic tragedy of her own, " A Light from St. Agnes ; " and " Frou- Frou." Yet one is with all this unable to feel that Minnie Maddern-Fiske has yet arrived. She has a remarkable temperament, and is one of the most intellectual women on the stage. She is as an actress devoid of convention- ality, absolutely free from any cheap theatrical faults, and more apt to under play than over play ; yet she lacks the element of popularity, and is often unconvin- cing, unfinished, incomplete, suggesting far more than she realizes, showing an intelligent comprehension of more than she executes. But even to-day she is not at the zenith of her possibility ; and while her Marie Deloche is a step in front of her earlier work, it is not yet time to judge her finally. H. CRANE. WILLIAM H. CRANE. BY JOSKPH HOWARD, JR. IT is nonsense to say that men cannot be properly estimated, their worth fairly weighed, until the clod has fallen upon their caskets. A pound is a pound to-day, just as much as it was a hundred years ago, just as absolutely as it will be a hundred years hence. " A man's a man for a' that," whether he be looked at eye to eye, or through the telescope of history. In fact, it would seem as though the old maxim, " Speak nothing but good of the dead," made a just estimate of a man's value, after his labors are ended, an impossibility. What do we know, as matter of fact, beyond gossip and distorted stories, concerning any of the great or the lesser names of the past ? The proper time to estimate William H. Crane as an artist, a financier, an encourager of native authorship, as an individual, is now, when we can look him squarely in the face, listen to his voice, observe closely his habits of speech, of gesture, nay, follow the very currents of his thought. For purely perfunctory purposes it may be well to say that Crane is not only an American, but an Ameri- can of the Americans, having been born in Leicester, 34 34 2 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO DAY. Mass., April 30, 1845. While a lad in school he had a bass voice of phenomenal range for one of his age ; and later, when fifteen or sixteen years old he was clerking in a dry-goods store, he and others formed a company known as the Young Campbell Minstrels, and gave concerts greatly to the delight of the people of the village, Crane's favorite song being " The Jolly Raftsman." In 1863, when the celebrated Holman Company visited Boston, having made the acquaintance of some of the children, he was offered a small position by Mr. Holman, who agreed to pay all his expenses for a year, and give him a little extra for spending money. It seems odd to us, who see Crane to-day, in all the dignity of mature experience, at the head of a well- equipped organization, one of the wealthiest stars in the land, to think of him as singing for seven years with a band of youthful associates in the " Child of the Regiment," " Fra Diavolo," " Sonnambula," and a re- pertoire of farcical one-act pieces. But that is what he did. And there is where he received training severe, and discipline necessary, leading up to an engagement with the Gates Opera Company, with which he remained four consecutive seasons, travelling from one end of the country to the other, as the singing comedian in an operatic menu ranging from the legitimate through comic bouffe. Crane is a born comedian. He was not a comedian simply because cast for comic parts. He is one of the men in whose eye can be de- tected that much written of "twinkle," betraying quick perception, even quicker intuition, and an all-around apprehension of the fun, not alone of phrase, but of WILLIAM II. CRANE. 343 situations. When " Evangeline " was produced by the Gates Company in Niblo's Garden in 1873, Crane created the part of LeBlanc, achieving at a bound a success so marked, so pronounced, as to still be far in the lead of efforts made with intelligent industry by a host of imitators, no one of whom has approached the hither verge of Crane's unquestionable triumph. Crane is ambitious. Ambition is an inspiring factor. Without it the dead level of the world would be stupid enough, monoto- nous, profitless, with no trace of enthusiasm, no senti- ment, indeed, no fire, no push. There are ambitions along different lines ; and although it is undoubtedly true that Crane is ambitious for money, ambitious for repute, ambitious for a good name, his chief ambition is to be known as an encourager of native authorship, and to have a first place among the interpreters of native thought. It would be folly to say that when he was comedian in a comic opera troupe these ideas were formulated into a fixed purpose, and that the young man, then doubtless more or less intoxicated by popu- lar applause, and by a recognition always extended to him from the first by the most conservative presses, deliberately planned what he is now so adminbly out- working. It is, however, an undeniable fact that, so long ago as 1874. regarding himself with judicial eye, and forecasting probabilities with almost prophetic in- tuition, he determined to kick from him the ladder on which he had mounted, and to start forward upon the plane attained with loftier purpose, and a genuine re- gard for honest work, and that fruitage which is almost a certain harvest in the field of his peculiar toil. So he gave up singing. 344 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO DAY. And having given that up, recognizing that his ability as a comedian and his natural trend toward laughter provocation had so far been a large factor in the prob- lem of success, he determined to continue as a co- median, though as a speaker rather than a singer. But his friends, and especially his employers, took a pre- cisely opposite view, and argued, accompanying argu- ment with inducement, that it would be wiser for him to remain where success was certain, than to attempt what was an unknown field to him. Yet he was firm. And firmness, along a line once determined upon, was then, as it is to-day, a pronounced feature of his composition. No man ever yet succeeded in business who was destitute of the ability to say "yes " and mean it, to say " no " and to stick to it. It is doubtful if any star upon the American boards is more generous with his associates, more considerate of his subordi- nates, more ready to listen to argument and suggestion from his manager, than Crane ; yet associates, subordi- nates, and manager will agree in the assertion that, after argument is ended and decision reached, he is as immovable as the Rock of Gibraltar. Having deemed it best to leave comic opera and enter upon the dra- matic field, he accepted a position in Hooley's Chicago Theatre, where he at once earned recognition and won substantial reputation. In " Married Life " and " The Rough Diamond," as Hector Placide in " Led Astray," Meddle in " London Assurance," Templeton Jitt in " Divorce," Mr. Crux in " School," Aminadab Sleek in " The Serious Family," and Tom Tack in "Time Tries All," he achieved successes equal to those he made in General Bourn, and LeBlanc. WILLIAM II. CRANE. 345 He was on the threshold of new triumphs. And from that day on, steered by ambitious deter- mination to do everything he attempted a little better than he did its predecessor, and not only to make but to leave an indelible mark wherever he went, it is but fair to say he abundantly justified what his friends and old-time employers were pleased to term his " stub- bornness," in refusing to reconsider his deliberate choice of a new phase, a new branch, a new line, of the profession he had adopted. The following season he was stage-manager in Hooley's Theatre, in which posi- tion he developed a new characteristic, that of a disci- plinarian, combining promptness with decision, and the two with never failing good nature, thereby enabling him to get from the company an amount of labor which justified them in being the associates of one who had already developed genius of a most interesting and promising nature. With the Hooley Company, Crane went to California, where they did an enormous busi- ness, which largely hinged upon the peculiarities and versatilities of the stage-manager, who had already taken the lead, and seemed bound to keep it. An in- teresting feature of this trip was the ilcbnt of Miss Ella Kraighne in the always effective role of the nun, Sister Genevieve, in " The Two Orphans." Miss Kraighne, who made a most favorable impression in that, as also in Glib in " Ultimo," about that time illus- trated a new reading of the old proverb which says, "Change the name and not the letter is a change for the worse and not for the better;" and when Miss Kraighne became Mrs. Crane, she took not only the most important, but the most charming step in her life a step which brought to the side of the rising 346 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. star a. helpmate in the best and truest sense of that significant term, to whom he in his hour of gloom was indebted for cheer and encouragement, and in his hours of prosperity for a careful, prudent, and sagacious part- ner. At this time John McCullough was the proprietor of the California Theatre, Barton Hill, manager; and in the company were T. VV. Keene, W. A. Mestayer, Robert Pateman, Miss Bella Pateman, Miss Ellie Wil- ton, Mrs. Judah, Miss Alice Harrison, Miss Marion Singer, Nelson Decker, and William H. Crane. Crane was on the road to fortune. An idea of his popularity may be gained from the fact that, in January, 1876, the governor, State officers, and members of the California Legislature, desiring to give him substantial evidence of their regard and high appreciation of his dramatic ability, tendered him a benefit in the Metropolitan Theatre in Sacramento, of which Thomas J. McGuire was manager. At this ben- efit, according to contemporaneous record, a brilliant audience, which packed the house, was present; and every evidence of common-sense recognition, of favor possible to conceive, was extended to the beneficiary. Crane then came to New York, and, in the Park Thea- tre, took a step forward, playing, under the manage- ment of Henry E. Abbey, Dick Swiveller to Lotta's Little Nell ; for which part he was specially engaged, and for which he received the unanimous recognition of the papers, a fact that impressed upon his own mind the desirability of immediately securing further and better opportunity for himself as an individual in the profession. This he then and there obtained. Mr. Abbey, in the latter part of January, 1877, pro- WILLIAM H. CRANE. 347 duced in the Park Theatre a play by Leonard Grover entitled " Our Boarding House," in which Crane as Colonel M. T. Elevator, and Stuart Robson as Profes- sor Gillipod, paralyzed the public by an association of artistic grotesquery and clean-cut comicality never before seen upon the local stage. It may be said that at this point Mr. Crane's phenomenal fortune began, continuing with ever-increasing brilliancy down to the present time. It is not too much to say, in fact, it is but obvious justice to say, that the hit of the evening was made by Crane, who was extremely odd, eccentric, " funny," as the phrase goes, as Colonel Elevator. His denunciation, in the absence of Gillipod, and threats of vengeance, when contrasted with his lamblike conduct when brought face to face with the professor, was the very acme of farce comedy, the farce permeating the comedy, and the comedy refining the farce. The suc- cess of the season was made emphatic by the wide horizoned popularity of the play and the players, result- ing in offers numerous and flattering. This brought about a partnership between the two comedians, Rob- son and Crane, who determined together to put into effect Crane's gradually maturing programme of se- curing American plays from American authors, their first effort being in a piece, written by Mr. Bradford, called "Our Bachelors." Prior to this, however, Rob- son and Crane appeared in Boucicault's " Forbidden Fruit," Crane as Buster and Robson as Cato Dove, with such great and immediate success, that John McCullough took them on a California!! tour, from which they returned with more money each than they had together owned in all their past careers. "Our Bachelors," although an adaptation from the German, 34-8 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. was a notable comedy success from the American point of view. This was followed as years rolled away by " Sharps and Flats," a notable revival of " The Comedy of Errors," an excellent presentation of " The Merry Wives of Windsor," and other plays, modern and an- cient, which brought them down to the fall of 1887. Their second decade now began. All this time Crane had grown. He had settled into the calm existence of a domestician ; he had learned the value of money ; he had found in his wife a care- ful, prudent, and thoughtful pecuniary manager. He saw himself a recognized attraction, potent on all the circuits East and West, North and South ; and with brains enough to appreciate the fact that an actor who was equally welcome in Toby Belch, Dullstone Flat, Jowler, Dromio, Falstaff, and LeBlanc, and could draw packed houses at every appearance, ought to be worth a little something to himself. Crane and Rob- son had now been together ten years, each supplement- ing the other perfectly. They had tried everything of the olden time in which there was a possibility of both being properly cast, but they naturally longed for spe- cial opportunities for individual as well as combined success. Such an opportunity was found in " The Henrietta," written by Bronson Howard, and brought out by Robson and Crane in the Union Square Theatre in the fall of 1887. " The Henrietta " was a bold effort in pure comedy, which has well been styled the most difficult field of dramatic composition. Its success was immediate, pro- nounced, thorough, honest, and deserved. Each actor was well fitted ; and the satirical picture of contempo- raneous life and manners in New York, with special WILLIAM H. CRANE. 349 reference to the smartness, hollowness, and the fatuity which attend operations in Wall Street, took the town through the eyes and ears, by the very heart, and in- sured not alone a continuity of financial prosperity, but the possibility of steady growth along the line of artis- tic merit. Something besides good acting on the stage and physical rest during the hours of leisure were now needed, good judgment in choosing plays for the future, careful selection in composing the casts, liberal taste in mounting. The fact that it was an entrance into a field already well occupied, where magnificent productions were the rule, and enterprising managers the rivals, were matters for grave consideration, all stimulants to growth, and to growth in right directions, The two men worked together harmoniously, pleasing the public, coining money ; Crane, as Nicholas Vanal- styne, at all times mobile, emotional, unctuous, fluent, forceful, a pusher, a driver, as honest in his excessive generosity here as he was earnest in clean-cut robbery of his best business friend there. He had become a lion. He was recognized universally by the critics, by the best thinkers among the public, and by audiences in general, as strong in the development of high-class comedy, with the ability to appreciate and portray types of character universally recognized and under- stood, but nevertheless most difficult to paint upon the popular canvas. At this time, when asked what he preferred to play, American or Shakesperian comedy, Crane said, "I confess to liking the American better. It gives me greater opportunities. Now I present a mixture of humor, pathos, and sentiment. It is higher work than I have done before ; and as the public is 350 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. pleased to like me, I, of course, enjoy the means of gratifying them and my own aspirations at the same time." His own aspirations! That is precisely the point made earlier in this sketch. Having found himself endowed by nature with certain capacities, with unmistakable faculties for better work and higher work and nobler work than he was then engaged in, at what appeared to his friends and advisors a pecuniary and professional sacrifice, he deliberately turned his back upon the past, and faced with unflinching and characteristic courage a future which must be fought for ere it could be won, but in which he believed he saw golden opportunities for fame, for recognition from those whose regard he re- spected, and for a right ultimately to stand among the few at the head. In 1888 Crane and Robson parted ; and on the stage of the Chicago Opera House, in reference to certain ill- natured remarks that had been passed concerning the feeling between the twelve-year partners, Robson said, " It will ever be with a sentiment of mingled satis- faction and pride that I shall recall the times when it was my good fortune to share honors with one whom I esteem as an honorable man, a generous friend, and a matchless actor." And Crane in response said, " While we think that the change we are about to make is for the best, and we are separating willingly, we cannot part without regret. For twelve years we have worked loyally and hard together. We have tried to serve our art as well as ourselves, while we have endeavored to amuse and entertain our friends. With the heartiest Godspeed, the kindliest interest in each WILLIAM II. CRANE. 35 I other's welfare, the warmest personal feeling toward one another, we set off next season, each on his sepa- rate way." Then came " The Senator." American through and through in scene, incident, language, and movement, with a remarkable realism which makes it as phenomenal a favorite in the na- tional capital as in any city in the United States, the individual work of Crane in this comedy is simply tre- mendous. In the last act he is on the stage the entire time. Were it not for his superabundant vitality, his Senator Rivers would be a physical impossibility. The actor's head is as full of business as the genuine Senator found himself overburdened with. The hinge on which plot and counterplot turn, the Senator, is occupied from start to finish, as the engineer, the mechanician, the diplomatist, the bluffer, the man of the world, the thoughtful employer, everybody's friend, and the doubting lover. In all these phases, these types of character, Crane has found study profitable. It may be doubted if a more artistic picture has been presented upon the modern stage, so faithful to recog- nizable life, so absolute a photograph of thoroughly appreciated situations, as the Senator in the hands of Mr. Crane. With characteristic generosity the now capitalistic actor finds pleasure as well as profit in the encourage- ment of native authorship. To his repertory he has added "The Governor of Kentucky," by Franklin Fyles, and " His Wife's Father," by Martha Morton, and with the two has increased his prosperity. Ilr now stands where his early ambitions hoped he might. STUART ROBSON. BY CHARLES M. SKINNER. STUART ROBSON is a grown-up cherub. The state- ment is made with a wince of misgiving, not from doubt of the truth of it, but from certainty thereof ; for the phrase is one that seems likely to have been used, and so made trite. Yet I hazard an insistence on the definition as the completes! that suggests itself. The first time that I saw this comedian was in Bos- ton, as Captain Crosstree in a burlesque of " Black- Eyed Susan ; " and his appearance was a cause of mirth. A body artificially inflated to the dimension of a Lam- bert, and cased in a naval uniform of white, was topped with a smooth, round head that had a birdlike way of turning, and was peaked away into one of the largest and most ferocious noses that ever illuminated human countenance ; the eyes were clear and innocent ; the hands dangled at the waist, or wreathed themselves in meek, complying attitudes ; the gestures were what Delsarte would prescribe as not appropriate to the emo- tions they presumably illustrated; the legs had a twin- kling activity out of keeping with the presumptive bulk that they propelled ; and the voice was almost a treble, with a lisp and an upward slide to the sentences like that of an infant uncertain of its words. The whole 352 STUART ROBSON IN "THE HENRIETTA. 1 STUART ROBSON. 353 apparition was so full of incongruity, and conduct so belied appearance, that the audience had the shock of something like a new experience before the extrava- gant humor of the thing brought laughter out. Nose, paunch, uniform, and trappings denoted recklessness, command, and passion, but eyes, hands, legs, and bear- ing were those of an Arcadian shepherd ; the text was full of threat and bluster, while the voice that uttered it was as the cooing of a dove. The juvenile innocence and freshness of this man are what give greatest distinction to his work ; to sundry of his characters, like Crosstree, they add the humor of anomaly ; in others, as in " The Henrietta," they emphasize character. In the last-named play the clever work of Bronson Howard he appears as the son of an industrious and reckless money-getter, one of those typical rich men's sons that parade Fifth Ave- nue in clothes and manners and dialect bought and borrowed from London, and that occupy their minds with clubs, clothes, and chorus girls ; young fellows of singular uselessness. Mr. Robson's Bertie in this com- edy has been gleefully hailed wherever Anglomaniacs have developed ; for the empty stare, the affectation of the monocle, and certain pretensions of attitude and speech, are recognized, and the audience is glad of the chance to vent its opinion of the class in laughter. Yet, in spite of perky gestures and high and lisping voice, the character wins us ; for it develops frankness and heart as the play goes on, the dramatist having skilfully written around Mr. Robson's limitations, mak- ing the part integral in many situations that are foreign to its nature, just as a single note in music makes part in half a dozen chords. 354 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. It is a fact worth mention that Mr. Robson's debut was made in the company of several boys who were destined to fame in later years ; namely, Edwin Booth, John Wilkes Booth, S. Barry, John Sleeper Clarke, W. Talbott and G. H. Stout. A stable was the portal through which these aspirants entered the world of art. They had built a stage in the loft, and had decorated its outer walls with written posters declaring these rates of admission : " Boys, 3 cents ; little boys, 2 cents. Come early, and bring your fathers and mothers." The comedian was born in Annapolis, Md., on March 4, 1836; and he received a liberal education from his father, who was a prosperous lawyer of that town. Seeing the various strolling troupes that made a "one- night stand " in the place, he imbibed a love for the stage that was fostered by the ampler opportunities and more enlivening performances given in Baltimore, to which city he removed at the age of twelve. Here he resolved to be an actor, and when he made his first professional appearance it was with the expec- tation that he would be a tragedian. A tragedian with those eyes and that voice ! Well, he is not the only one who has thus misjudged his quality and calling, or has failed to adapt his impulses to his means of execu- tion. The world is full of round pegs in square holes. Edwin Booth used to sing negro melodies and strum the banjo ; and as to comedians who wanted to play Hamlet, you can name half of all those who are on the stage. And some of them remain comedians when they play Hamlet. John E. Owens, an admirable comedian himself, and a candidate for tragedy likewise, if memory serves me, gave Robson his first opportunity after that young STUART ROBSON. 355 hopeful had worried him for a long time; and on Jan. 5, 1852, S. Robson, as he was styled on the bill, emerged into view of an audience at the Baltimore Museum, quaking and stammering with stage fright. He was cast for Horace Courtney in " Uncle Tom's Cabin As It Is," a work by Professor Hewett, written as an offset to Mrs. Stowe's tale of the horrors of slavery. Professor Hewett is forgotten, and so is his play ; but Uncle Tom still stumps about the provinces. Master Robson's part was serious and sentimental, but he was not ; at least the audience did not think so, for it laughed at his appearance, at his fright, at his hesi- tancy, and the more gloomy he became, the merrier grew the populace. At the end of the play the prompter congratulated the lad, and told him he had succeeded in being funny. The beginner replied in these words : " I am aware, sir, that I made myself sufficiently ridiculous, without your reminding me of it ; but, as they laughed so much at my tragedy, I will give them an opportunity to honor my comedy, for I intend to become a comedian." After that night he studied in new earnest ; and for the next two or three years he played such comedy parts as were given to him, securing an engagement at Iron Hall, Washington, in 1855. In the fall of that year he became second low comedian in Wayne Ol- wyne's little museum in Troy, N.V., where he soon be- came a favorite ; next year he went over the Western circuit as leading comedian in John G. Cartlitch's Com- pany ; and in the fall of 1857 he reappeared in the Bal- timore Museum, this time evoking laughter that was "a tribute, not a satire." John T. Ford engaged him for the Holliday Street Theatre, where he remained 356 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. for three years, becoming there " the greatest favorite since the days of Joseph Jefferson the older." For two or three seasons after this the comedian played in Richmond, St. Louis, Washington, Cincin- nati, and other cities. In September, 1862, he began a season's engagement at Laura Keene's Theatre, New York, as Bob in "Old Heads and Young Hearts;" thence he went to the Arch Street Theatre, Phila- delphia, remaining there for three years, and after that to Selwyn's Theatre, Boston. He was associated with Mrs. John Wood, Rose Hersee, and Robert Craig in the cast of " King Carrott," when that work was brought out in New York at the Grand Opera House; and he had an experience as a star, brief and hardly brilliant, in the character of John Beat, a policeman, in " Law in New York." Metropolitan play-goers have a pleasant recollection of his work in the Union Square Theatre, where he played in a variety of parts. During one of his summer vacations at this theatre, he and Mr. Thome ran over to London and brought out Boucicault's " Led Astray," the quietly funny part of Hector in this drama the man who could not be taken seriously because he had a boy's voice and the face of a comic singer fitting him admirably. At the Union Square, Mr. Rob- son became as marked a favorite as Charles Thorne, John Parselle, J. H. Stoddart, Sara Jewett, Fanny Mo- rant, Rose Eytinge, and other members of the ad- mirable company at that house. In 1876 Robson appeared in Bret Harte's "Two Men of Sandy Bar;" but the public did not take kindly to the piece, and in fourteen weeks the comedian succeeded in losing six thousand dollars, the savings of ten years. Luck came in his way next season ; for at the Park STUART ROBSON. 357 Theatre, New York, he was cast as Professor Gillipod, and William H. Crane as Colonel M. T. Elevator, in Leonard Grover's comedy, "Our Boarding House." These two characters were played in such a racy fashion, they had so many traits that an American audience was quick and glad to recognize, that they became the leading characters in the piece, throwing the usual villain and lovers into the background. This chance meeting and joint success resulted in a partner- ship that endured for twelve years, and that furnished a suggestion to other players that has been followed with happy results, notably in the partnership of Booth and Barrett in tragedy, and of Jefferson and Florence in comedy. Robson and Crane played modern pieces together, revived "Twelfth Night," "Merry Wives of Windsor," and "Comedy of Errors," and in 1888 pro- duced "The Henrietta," Mr. Crane appearing as the energetic Wall Street venturer, and Robson as his son Bertie, "the lamb." This play Mr. Robson bought for his own use the next year, for the sum of twenty-five thousand dollars an indication of what good native plays are worth. Mr. Crane found an equally success- ful comedy in "The Senator." Mr. Robson has like- wise added to his repertory a work of somewhat whimsical character, yet of good purpose, named " Is Marriage a Failure ? " that contains one scene in which he has to be impressive ; and his effort in this direction is successful enough to prove that he was not wholly wrong in his first intent to do serious acting. Mr. Robson's appearance on the stage is usually provocative of mirth, and his entrance is greeted with smiles and laughter. He has a sleek and youthful contour and countenance ; his eyes are large and inno- FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY cent ; he is in a state of constant astonishment at the world he so recently came into; he has the solemnity of an infant ; he walks with a deliberate teeter, and on facing his audience absently sways from side to side, sometimes with hands depending loosely from his wrists ; his mouth is mobile and good-natured, and has a way of dropping slightly open whenever he intensi- fies surprise ; all his movements, though quick, have ease and softness, for there are few who put less muscle into their acting indeed, some of his most character- istic points are made by relaxation instead of effort. Sometimes he makes an assumption of mechanism in gesture and look, and often delivers a speech as if re- peating it after a prompter, pumping the words out, and emphasizing each, a method that in sentences of stern purport has a laughable effect of antiphrasis. These things are as personal to his stage self as the color of his hair ; they are difficult of imitation ; they are amusing and engaging if temperamental, and origi- nal if inventive. They persist, however, in all that he does, and to that degree confine his range. What is most individual in his acting is his voice. There is no other like it on the stage, and you recog- nize it with your eyes shut. It has been called a squeak, but it is not that : it is a tenor that rises almost into soprano in excitement ; it has sing-song without monotony, for the cadence is remarkable ; it puts ac- cents just where you do not expect to hear them ; it ends words with a slow trill or quaver; it dwells on vowels ; it is interrupted with little, dry, staccato laughs ; it is a voice that is full of surprises. Take, for example, the bad word said by the comedian when, in " The Henrietta," he returns from his initiation in STUART ROBSOX. 359 the stock exchange with smashed hat and severed gar- ments. Most actors would pronounce the words in a strenuous fashion, with a vigorous explosion of the first word, and a diminuendo and tonal descent thereafter. Mr. Robson pipes it forth in juvenile rage and injured innocence like this : Damn Hen-ri - et-ta-a-a! One of the most successful appearances that the actor made was in "The Comedy of Errors," he and Mr. Crane appearing as the two Dromios. This im- posed more of a burden on Mr. Crane than on Mr. Robson ; for though the latter made the type, the for- mer duplicated his mannerisms, and they became more funny by copying than ever. Intellectual vacuity was expressed in a bland stare, a rocking gait, fingers sucked or tapped and pressed together, and irresolute swaying, while voices raised in whimpering protest or bleating in appeal called answering laughter from the audience. The likeness between the two, effected by dress and make-up, was remarkable, and was the more confusing when, on receiving a call at the end of an act, the co- medians quickly changed place on the stage. Since his separation from this partner, Mr. Robson has been acting much in the old comedies, especially in " She Stoops to Conquer." Though neither art nor nature has made of Mr. Robson a great creative actor, they have made him a comedian, and as such he is unique. It is his personal- ity as much as his acting that touches his audience, but 360 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. who shall deny the place of personality in theatric art ? We admire it in Jefferson, we liked it in Wallack, we love it in women when it takes a form of grace and beauty. Mr. Robson as Claude Melnotte would prob- ably be a failure ; as Mr. Robson he is a success. The subject of this sketch married the daughter of a Baltimore clergyman in 1856, and lived happily with her until her death in 1890. His daughter Alecia was at one time in his company, but retired from the stage to assume domestic and social duties after her marriage in Boston. Recently he took to wife Miss May Wal- dron, the leading lady of his company. In summer the comedian makes his home at Cohasset, Mass., his pic- turesque villa having a more than local renown as a place of hospitalities. He has a hobby for the collec- tion of books, pictures, autographs, and stage relics ; among his treasures being the sword with which Ouin accidentally killed Bowan in 1719; a letter from Macready to Elliston, saying, "I love a lord, and hate a player ; " a prompt copy of " Merry Wives of Wind- sor," date 1623 ; a letter from President Buchanan declaring Cooper to be a better actor than Edmund Kean ; and a diatribe by John Calvin on the sin of theatres, in which he says, " Hell is neither deep enough nor hot enough for players, and the man who would enter a play-house will be burned in fires ever- lasting" t a declaration that has no effect on Mr. Rob- son's geniality or usefulness in his chosen field. He has lightened care, diffused mirth, stirred wholesome emotions, and thereby has added to general happiness. JOHN T. RAYMOND. JOHN T. RAYMOND. BY KRANKI.IN FYLES. VERSATILITY is a hindrance to popular success on the stage. Unvaried individuality is a help. The actor who disguises himself effectually in his assumed characters, and whose impersonations are actual crea- tions of mimetic art, gets appreciation and praise from the few considerate observers ; but to the great ma- jority he has to introduce himself anew with every role, and is not remembered from one such achievement to another. Make out a list of those whom you deem the twenty, best rewarded players alive those who have gained fame and money most plentifully. You are likely to name Joseph Jefferson first ; and in him you have a comedian whose quietude of humor, quaintness of elo- cution, and gentle efficacy of fun, are never changed. The Dutch accent of Rip Van Winkle does not alter them, nor does the trepidation of Hob Acres affect them, and they all belong to Mr. Jefferson in private life. They constitute an individuality which has tri- umphed on the stage, and he could not divest himself of them if he would. William II. Crane is to-day, next to Mr. Jefferson, the American actor most recom- pensed in fame and wealth ; but are not these results 361 362 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. due quite as much to his agreeable personality as to his undoubted abilities ? Go on to the end of your selection of twenty examples of great prosperity in acting, and the real mimics will be outnumbered by the invariables ten to one. You will find admirable versatility in some member of nearly every dramatic company ; but the public does not make his personal acquaintance, and he never gets beyond transitory rec- ognition. The easily remembered actor is the one who is his own unchangeable self, no matter what kind of a man he may paint, wig, and garb himself to look like. And it is the easily-remembered actor, who, if his singularities are interesting and amusing, mounts to the top of the ladder, while his versatile competitor keeps climbing from the ground to the first rung, over and over and over. Let me put the late John T. Raymond in evidence. He died as popular as any American comedian of his time, and he would have died rich if he had not fooled .away his income. Still, if to be an actor is to be a mimic, he was not an actor at all. He was devoid of the smallest degree of versatility. Once, in a Saratoga hotel, the voice of Colonel Mulberry Sellers was raised behind me. Not only were the tones and inflections of the hopeful, enthusiastic speculator vocalized, precisely as I had heard them in theatres, but the words, too, were in kind. Sellers had been to the races that after- noon, so he was informing somebody, and he had bet on beaten horses only ; but he could make good his loss next day, sure pop, on a tip given to him by - and the name was whispered confidentially. Mean- while, he dared his companion to match silver dollars ten times. The challenge was accepted. Sellers lost JOHN T. RAYMOND. 363 eight times in the ten, and remained blithesome. It is said that Mark Twain's father was the prototype of Sellers. Few who have seen the character in the play have been at a loss to find in him the likeness of an acquaintance. But of all the counterparts of Twain's hero, none can have been more perfect than Raymond ; and it was he who talked and matched dollars in the Saratoga hotel. "See here," he exclaimed; "tell you what I'll do. Bet you ten dollars you can't guess within ten how many times I use the phrase, 'There's millions in it,' in one performance of my play." "I'll go you," was the reply; and, after a minute's thought, the man added, "my money goes on fifteen." " Close call," the comedian cried. " Thirteen would have won. I say, 'There's millions in it,' just three times in the whole piece. Most folks non-profes- sionals guess twenty or over ; " and he pocketed the ten dollars as joyously as ever Sellers imagined a million. Although the suitability of Raymond as an illustrator of Colonel Sellers rewarded him prodigiously, that was not the first acceptance of him by the public as an en- tertainer. He had already employed his marked idiosyn- crasies as Asa Trenchard in " Our American Cousin," accompanying K. A. Sothern in America and abroad for years. Asa Trenchard, as acted by Raymond, dif- fered from Sellers in no particular of manner, still the actor was resentful of the slightest intimation that he was not versatile. He would answer the aspersions by pointing to the fact that he had served long and arduously as a low comedian in stock companies, play- ing all sorts of comic characters. That is true. It is 364 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. also true that his impersonations were never anything else than John T. Raymond, cheery, volatile, and likable. He was born O'Brien in Buffalo in 1836 ; and he died in Evansville in 1887, after thirty-four years on the stage. He began in a stock company in Rochester ; but within a year he was at Niblo's Garden in New York, as low comedian to Anna Cora Mowatt. From that time until 1873 he shifted from one company to an- other, playing his final season as a subordinate under Lawrence Barrett and John McCullough when those actors managed a theatre in San Francisco. A change of play was made once a week as a rule, and Raymond took the various roles naturally falling to the first low comedian. The case of John T. Raymond is one in point against the common fallacy as to better entertainment having been yielded in the former days of located companies than are afforded under the present system of special casts. Nor is it true that the old-fashioned stock com- panies, with their rapid succession of casts, trained up better actors than are produced by the new order of things on the stage. Then the actor had barely time to memorize the words of a part, with none left to bestow on other preparation. The result generally was that he played everything alike, developing no versatility, falling into bad habits, and acquiring only a monotonous kind of facility. Out of such conditions came a wonderfully enter- taining actor in Raymond ; but it was only when a character fitted him that his value was realized. His own outlines were fixed, and he could not vary them. So he was brilliant sometimes, and dull at other times. JOHN T. RAYMOND. 365 John T. Raymond won with Colonel Sellers. His prize consisted of a fame that made him known to and liked by the theatrical audiences of the land, and a fortune that with prudence of investment should have constituted him a millionnaire. It was while Ray- mond was employed by Barrett and McCullough in San Francisco in 1873, that George B. Dinsmore, a jour- nalist, discovered in Mark Twain's novel, " The Gilded Age," a personage which the actor could realize to the uttermost without acting at all. Without the slightest artificiality of face, without the faintest counterfeit of voice, and without more than a slight exaggeration of natural manner, he could become the typical American schemer of the book. The impediment was not in art, but in business. A few trial performances of Dins- more's dramatization were given, and then came a reasonable objection by Twain to the unauthorized use of his property. Actors are fond of assuming that they " create " a character, when all they do is to place an author's creation on the stage. The law of copy- right, however, protects the father in the disposition of his pictorial children. The author, in this instance, fixed on one hundred dollars as the price to be paid to him every time Colonel Sellers stepped out of the book into the play. The comedy was a wretchedly poor one ; and the audience ridiculed it when it was acted in New York City for the first time, at that particular Park Theatre which stood in Broadway just below Twenty-second Street. It was a fiasco in everything save Colonel Mulberry John T. Sellers Raymond, a type of Ameri- canism so true, racy, and congenial, that the audience took him into their best regard at once. Mark Twain 366 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. had already overhauled the Dinsmore play, and play- wrights afterward improved it ; but it remained a trav- esty, instead of affording the natural, reasonable, homely surroundings which Colonel Sellers deserved. He was a dramatic prototype, and he will not soon disappear from our stage. "The Gilded Age " may not be acted again ; but its principal has been duplicated substan- tially in other dramas, and will be used essentially in many a drama to come. If the power of imitation must be denied to Ray- mond, and his success ascribed to his exploitation of his own personality, compensation may be made to his memory by a record of the fact that he was a model for the imitators. Tribute was paid to him by the avowed mimics. From variety show to burlesque, and from amateur theatricals to the lyceum platform, no mimic omitted Raymond's Sellers from his set of por- trayals. Further and deeper than that, however, is the influence of his success discernible in the best Ameri- can comedians of the day. Sellers has become vario- form on the stage. Your ears take note of him in the utterance of popular comedians when they portray Western character, or have anything grandiloquent to say. Your eyes descry him in the pose of the enthu- siast, with one arm akimbo, the other uplifted to its whole length, and the head thrown back defiantly. That figure is constantly recurrent in our native come- dies and farces. It is as firmly set before us, too, as though it were a graven image on a pedestal in every public square, not so much comic as emblematic of our speculative and hopeful tendencies. The last time I saw Raymond in Colonel Sellers's familiarly graphic attitude was at Long Branch. He JOHN T. RAYMOND. 367 was spending the summer at a costly hotel. His vaca- tion was longer than his purse. He had expended in personal luxuries and unfortunate speculations the great profits of "The Gilded Age." His last wager in Wall Street had used up the money with which he might have paid an overdue board-bill. He hadn't dollars enough left to pursue his favorite pastime of odd-or- even. He was as completely stranded as any penniless stroller at a cross-roads tavern, with the important dif- ference that his landlord, a personal friend and admirer, was willing to be his host in the non-mercenary sense of the term. But Raymond was badly off, even when relieved of responsibility for board and lodging ; for the time was near when he was to venture forth for a new season. Certain preliminary expenses were to be paid. "Give a 'benefit' performance," the host suggested. "You may have the casino rent free." The entertainment was given, and the house was crowded. The profit amounted to a thousand dollars. " Now, John," said the host, as he handed the re- ceipted board-bill to the actor, " if you haven't enough money left to start the new play with, we'll let this account wait.' During the prior week or two the joviality of Ray- mond had been a little forced and unreal, but with money in his pocket he was restored to spontaneous buoyancy. Instinctively placing one hand on his hip, and holding the bill aloft, he proclaimed a return to affluence. "My dear fellow," he cried, "my new play's the thing 'with millions in it!'' But it wasn't. SOL SMITH RUSSELL. BY WILLIAM T. ADAMS ("OLIVER OPTIC"). SOL SMITH RUSSELL was born at Brunswick, Mo., June 15, 1848. His father had learned a trade in early life ; and, removing to St. Louis while Sol was still a small boy, he opened a store for the manufacture and sale of tinware. The son did not inherit any taste for the mechanical arts, and his only attempt to make tin cups was a sad failure. His father was not content to make a lifelong pursuit of his trade, and ultimately developed an ambition for professional life, not in the same direction as his gifted son, for he became succes- sively a physician and a preacher. He was an elder in the church, between which and the stage the line was even more arbitrarily drawn than at the present day. The father had been to a circus once, but in old age he entered a theatre for the first time to see his son act at Daly's in New York. Sol played the part of a tramp, and made his entrance through a window. The mo- ment he had put his foot on the scene, "That's Sol's leg ! " exclaimed the venerable gentleman. It was very evident that the son inherited none of his dra- matic talent from the paternal side of the house. Sol's mother was a daughter of Edwin Mathews, a teacher of music in Cincinnati. Sol Smith, the vete- 368 SOL SMITH RUSSELL SOL SMITH RUSSELL. 369 ran manager and comedian, prominently identified with the early theatre in St. Louis and the South, married another daughter of Mr. Mathews ; and his name was given to the future actor, who has done more to make it familiar all over the country than his uncle did. Like her husband, Sol's mother was religiously in- clined, and became a " mother in Israel." She was a pillar of the church, as well as a leading spirit in all charitable and reformatory enterprises. Not from her either did the son inherit his artistic taste. The first dozen years of Sol's life were passed in St. Louis, where he obtained his early education ; and upon this slender basis he has been a diligent student, apply- ing himself earnestly to books, even carrying his studies along into the collegiate course while travelling. He was a boy among boys ; and very early he developed a decided fondness for the theatre, which he gratified by stealth. He was known about the theatre as a nephew of Sol Smith ; and this fact often enabled him to see a play, either before or behind the curtain. He was deprived of this privilege by the removal of his father, in 1860, to Jacksonville, 111. But his theatrical taste re- mained with him ; and when hardly more than a dozen years old, he organized a company of young fellows, and walked from town to town, giving performances in barns and cellars. He had learned to sing, and his comic impersonations even at this early age were the main features of the show. In this manner he was fitting himself for the brilliant successes of later years, and worked diligently to improve himself in the pro- fession he had adopted. Nautically speaking, he did not crawl in at the cabin window, but worked his way aft from the hawse-hole. His present position as an 37 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. actor he has faithfully earned by diligent study and hard work for more than thirty years. At the beginning of the War of the Rebellion, Illinois was ablaze with patriotic excitement ; and at the age of thirteen Sol went away from his home with the army, as a drummer-boy. He tried several times to enlist as a musician, but he was unable to obtain the written consent of his parents. He was a very bright and talented youngster, popular with the officers and sol- diers ; and he marched and drummed with a regiment for several months. At Paducah, Ky., he was taken very sick. The surgeon looked him over, and hinted that he was likely to die. The sufferer did not take kindly to this idea, and crawled to a steamboat, by which he was conveyed to St. Louis. By various ex- pedients he contrived to drag himself to his home, where the faithful nursing of his mother soon restored him to health. The convalescent was not inclined to remain at the home he had reached in such dire distress. His affec- tions seemed to be divided between the army and the theatre, perhaps because some sort of a theatre was attached to every army corps. He wandered through the various camps near the Ohio, amusing the men, and sharing their rations. Failing to become regularly at- tached to any command, he was compelled to make his way as best he could. Of course he was often " dead broke;" but his tact and invention enabled him to override all the difficulties of the situation. To fill his exchequer he obtained on credit a small stock of goods in demand in camps. His commercial operations were so successful that he replenished his wardrobe, and still had money in his pocket. It did not last long, and the SOL SMITH RUSSELL. 371 wandering little minstrel reached Cairo with an empty purse. He was open to an offer, and joined the company playing in that place at the Defiance Theatre at a salary of six dollars a week. It was his first regular engagement ; and it was dignified to have a stated sal- ary, even if not princely in amount. He was certainly an actor of very general utility ; for he not only played his part in the thrilling drama, but he sang comic songs between the plays, and drummed in the orchestra. As he had to pay three dollars and a half a week for his table board, his wardrobe and other expenses exhausted the rest of his stipend, and he had to sleep in the theatre for the want of a room. At this time he was so slender and delicate of figure that he was often put into petticoats, and danced as a fair maiden around a maypole or in a contra dance. His next engagement was at John Bates's National Theatre in Cincinnati, where he sang comic songs between the plays. His next discipline for a future career was with " Bob Carter's Dog Show," on a small canal-boat with a cabin. He sang his songs ; and if he was not called on to bark with the canines, he was required to do a mule's duty in dragging the boat. In 1863 he sang at the " Red, White, and Blue " concert saloon in St. Louis. Attention was thus attracted to him ; and it procured him an engagement at Deaglc's Theatre, where he was a stock actor, and sang in the intermissions. In the same capacity he played in Mil- waukee, and then joined the Peak Family as a singer, and followed the army into Arkansas and Tennessee. During these eventful years Sol was a hard-working youth, continually studying plays and reading solid 372 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. books. He was quiet in his manners, very observing, and never forgot what was worth remembering. This diligence was rewarded by a slow but regular advance- ment in his profession ; and in the season of 1864-1865, at the age of sixteen, he was the second comedian of the old theatre at Nashville, and there acted with such stars as Frank Drew in Irish comedy, Maggie Mitchell, Laura Keene, John Albaugh, and others. The next season he was engaged in the same capacity at Ben De Bar's theatre in St. Louis, where he played in the star season of his cousin Mark Smith in the old Eng- lish comedies, with Charles Dillon and Lawrence Bar- rett (then the "rising young tragedian"). In 1866, at the age of eighteen, Sol was engaged as first low come- dian at Leavenworth, and filled the place of stage- manager at St. Joseph. Mr. Russell first made himself known in the East in connection with the Peak and Berger families. He was the comic singer and delineator of eccentric char- acters. In these engagements he made himself famous by his impersonations of the ancient maiden ladies, Dorcas Pennyroyal and the Boarding Mistress, by his imitations of John B. Gough, and in dialect pieces. With the Bergers he journeyed all over the East, West, and South, winning unmeasured applause with what are known as his "specialties," which he has now out- grown and laid aside. Even at the early age of four- teen he attempted to entertain an audience alone ; and at twenty he wrote a lecture, into which he dovetailed his specialties, making a monologue entertainment that afforded satisfaction to his audience. As an elocution- ist he made a decided impression with serious pieces, especially those of a tender and pathetic character. SOL SMITH RUSSELL. 373 In 1867 Mr. Russell joined the stock company of the Chestnut Street Theatre in Philadelphia, then un- der the management of William E. Sinn, and acted there with James E. Murdoch. The next three years he travelled in New England and elsewhere, giving his monologue entertainment. In 1871 he made his first appearance in New York, at Lina Edwin's Theatre. It was not till 1874 that he made his first pronounced hit in New York, at the Olympic Theatre, where he intro- duced his specialties, played The Toodles, Jem Baggs, in "The Wandering Minstrel," and acted in various burlesques. The same year he joined Augustin Daly's Company in New York, playing there twenty-six weeks, and nineteen weeks in Boston. Then he toured the country again with the Bergers, half the evening be- ing given to his performance. Financially it was a desirable connection for him, but it did not satisfy his ambition as an actor; and in 1876 he - rejoined Daly's company, becoming permanently associated with America's best actors. In 1880 Mr. Russell reached a turning-point in his career, and since that time he has devoted himself ex- clusively to legitimate acting as a dramatic star. For several years he had ambitiously looked forward to this idea as the proper field for his talents, schooled by twenty years of experience before the public. He fully realized that he was capable of higher and better work. Continued years of success as a star have amply demonstrated that he and his friends did not overesti- mate his abilities. The principal obstacle in his path to stellar distinction was the difficulty of obtaining a suitable play, for his peculiar talents required a peculiar piece. He had been copied and imitated to a greater 374 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. extent than almost any other artist ; and it was believed to be absolutely necessary to supply him with his own special material, though it may be added that his genius had not yet developed his true sphere in acting. Mr. J. E. Brown of Boston, who had furnished him with many of the sketches in his specialties, was en- gaged to produce a play. His work was well done, and the name of " Edgewood Folks " was given to it. With this piece Mr. Russell starred the country for the next three years, and was decidedly successful in the new field. The piece contained the usual elements of a drama ; but the star was written into it, trailing through it nearly all the specialties which had made him famous. No one then believed that a play could be made for him in any other manner. In 1884, on the retirement of William Warren, Mr. Russell was engaged as the stock star of the Boston Museum, and played many of the veteran's parts at his home and elsewhere. In 1886 Mr. Brown achieved another play for the star, " Felix McKusick," which kept the stage during the season. The piece was hilariously funny, though the specialties were less prominent than in " Edgewood Folks." The following season Mr. Russell presented " Pa," by Cal Walters ; and in this play the specialties were still farther kept in the shade. " Bewitched," by E. E. Kidder, was the bill for the season of 1888-1889. The piece was wildly funny, and was decidedly successful ; but the star realized that he had not yet attained his proper sphere, for the right play had not yet been secured. By this time Mr. Russell had obtained a clear idea of the distinctive field for which his taste and talent fitted him. His plays so far had been too trivial and SOL SMITH RUSSELL. 375 undignified to enable him to realize his later ambition. They embodied only the comic element. Mr. Kidder had proved to be his most promising dramatist. His lines were humorous, and sparkled with wit. Mr. Rus- sell suggested to him the intermingling of a genuine pathos with the comic element, and indicated the man- ner in which it could be accomplished. The result of the dramatist's effort in this direction was " A Poor Relation." Though not a great play as measured by the critics, it was an emphatic success from the begin- ning. It realized more nearly than any of his earlier plays the actor's ideal of the field in which his suc- cesses were thereafter to be won. The piece was elaborately staged, and produced at the opening of Daly's Theatre in New York in 1889. Mr. Russell's next venture in the search for his ideal play was in the employment of Dion Boucicault. The actor abandoned his pleasant home in Minneapolis, went to New York with his family, spending the entire sum- mer there, and using all his time in conference with the veteran dramatist. The new piece was called, "The Tale of a Coat," "written expressly to fit, by Dion Boucicault." It was elaborately mounted, with new scenery, machinery, and effects, and was first brought out on trial in Philadelphia, where it appeared to be a success. The play was then produced at Daly's in New York, where the critics mercilessly condemned it ; and it proved to be a lamentable failure with the public, to the intense disappointment of the star. It was acted for nearly six weeks, and was then laid on the shelf forever. In 1890 Mr. Kidder was again interviewed ; and upon Mr. Russell's suggestions as to what he wanted, 376 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. "Peaceful Valley" came forth from his ready pen. It suited the star better than anything he had before obtained. During a week he passed with Mr. Joseph Jefferson at his summer home, with Mr. W. J. Florence, the piece was read, and heartily approved by these dis- tinguished artists. New scenery was painted, and the play was very handsomely staged. After playing it a few nights at Duluth and Superior, it was presented at the Grand Opera House in Minneapolis. The largest audiences ever in that house were present. The per- formance was witnessed by the elite of the city where the actor resides, but the result was equally flattering in other cities of the North-West. . Perhaps " Peaceful Valley " is not "a great play," as critics use the expres- sion ; but it places the star for whom it was written in the sphere where his ideal exists. He has always been entirely original in his conception of his characters, scorning to be a mere imitator of other actors. Off the stage there is nothing peculiar in Mr. Rus- sell, unless it be his quiet dignity ; and he is oftener taken for a clergyman than for an actor. The quaint personality with which he invests his delineations is pure acting ; for he is nothing of that kind at home or in society, though he can "rise to an occasion" in genial company. He is quiet but earnest in his man- ner, has a big, open heart, and is always and above all perfectly sincere. Behind the actor is the man ; and what makes him honest, square, faithful, and lovable as a citizen, is the substantial foundation of his acting. One less delicately organized as a Christian gentleman would be incapable of bringing comedy and pathos into intimate association as Mr. Russell does in his latest and most successful plays. NAT. C. GOODWIN. NAT C. GOODWIN BY FRANK E. CHASE. MR. NAT C. GOODWIN, whom all foreign critics of the American stage recognize as the first and most representative of American comedians, has risen to this eminence in spite of the paradoxical circumstance that his fellow-countrymen have always regarded him as one of the " funniest " of living actors. Some such barbaric perversity as blinded many of the most de- voted admirers and enthusiastic patrons of the late William Warren to the very best and highest gifts of that really great actor, long threatened to keep Mr. Goodwin in the artistically menial position of mere jester to its majesty the public, and to deny him the opportunity of making any serious appeal. It was in burlesque that he first won applause and reputation ; and to burlesque he was practically confined for many years by a delighted public, which indicated its unintelligent preference by the simple but forcible device of turning its back upon all experiments in other directions. Just as Mr. Warren was well-accustomed to display his rare powers of pathos to peals of puzzled but resolute laughter from the lips of enthusiastic ad- mirers who had come from distant and benighted sub- urbs to enjoy their favorite comedian, so the younger 377 3/8 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. actor's serious efforts long encountered similar misun- derstanding, when they did not meet with neglect ; and his higher aims were again and again abandoned for the agreeable clowning that makes a fat box-office. But in the long battle between Mr. Goodwin's self-appreciative ambition and the stupid conservatism of his admirers, the actor's persistent endeavor finally prevailed ; and he stands to-day, beyond all question, the first of Ameri- can comedians. He has fortunately arrived at this distinction while still a young man. It was on July 25, 1857, in a little house on Temple Street, in the West End of Boston, that Nathaniel Carl Goodwin first exercised in infant outcry the voice that has since become more pleasantly familiar to the public. His parents were of good New England stock, with no closer or more permanent re- lations to the stage than those of patrons and admirers; so that neither in his birth nor early associations is to be found any original destination for the theatre. The paternal dream, indeed, so far as it took definite form at all, looked toward the law rather than the stage. The youthful Goodwin's education was begun at the Mayhew Grammar School, in Boston, whence he was removed, after a short time, to the famous Little Blue Academy, at Farmington, Me. To this institution he imported a taste for amateur theatricals, which he propagated among his fellow-students with a zeal and assiduity not altogether to the taste of his instructors, who found their consolation, and the chief pleasure his connection with the school afforded them, in the talent he evinced for elocutionary studies, and the credit that its well-applauded exercise on public days reflected upon the academy. NAT C. GOODWIN. 379 . Upon graduation he was given, with the usual perver- sity of parental hopes, a start in commercial life in the counting-room of Wellington Bros. & Co.'s dry-goods store, on Chauncy Street, in Boston, as entry-clerk. Dry goods proved unusually arid to him, however ; for in his elocutionary triumphs at school he had found his true bent, and all of his leisure time, as well as much that probably was somewhat differently regarded by his employers, was devoted to the study of play-books, and the assiduous cultivation of such theatrical ac- quaintances as he was able to make. In the memory of his fellow-clerks, and among the traditions of many places of public resort in the Hub, yet linger stories of his early successes, chiefly as an imitator of popular actors. At the stage door of the Boston Museum he is still recalled as one of the most persistent applicants for the responsible position of "super" that ever besieged that portal. Indeed, the greater portion of his time coming to be given to theatrical pursuits, Messrs. Wellington Bros. & Co. finally concluded to give him entire liberty to pursue his dramatic ambitions, an event which afforded him considerably more pleasure than it did his parents. The usual struggle with pa- ternal authority ensued, and finally culminated in his obtaining permission to prosecute his theatrical studies in a formal and systematic manner. Ho was accord- ingly placed, for a time, under the instruction of Madame Michell, better known in private life as Mrs. Terrell, an actress once favorably known in New York, who gave him his first regular instruction in dramatic art. At this period it was Goodwin's settled conviction 380 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. that he was peculiarly adapted for tragic roles, an erro- neous idea from which he has from time to time ever since given evidence of not having entirely emanci- pated his mind. Governed by this notion he shortly left Madame Michell, and placed himself under the tui- tion of Mr. Wyzeman Marshall, an old-school actor of great reputation, who undertook Goodwin's training in the direction which he had himself followed with distinguished success. The arduous curriculum of this master, however hopeless of final honors for this par- ticular pupil, was still an admirable school of disci- pline ; and if Goodwin never actually made his debut as Macbeth, a part which he studied and rehearsed with this intention, the training was certainly of great value. At about the time this event was to have come off, fortunately, the mistaken estimate of his own powers which Goodwin shared with about every comedian that has a place in the history of the drama, was corrected by Mr. Stuart Robson, who, having made the acquaint- ance of the young man, and formed a more just notion of his talents, offered the unborn Macbeth an engage- ment in a company then supporting him at the How- ard Athenaeum in Boston. The play was written by Joseph Bradford, once an actor, and at that time the dramatic critic of the Boston Courier, and was called " Law in New York." The insignificant character of the Newsboy was intrusted to Goodwin ; and upon the night of March 5, 1874, he made his actual debut on the stage in this part, introducing in one of his scenes the imitations which subsequently became so popular. The reception by the public of these really admira- ble feats of mimicry was instantaneously enthusiastic. His repertory comprised nineteen imitations in all, NAT C. GOODWIN. 381 including about all the popular actors of that time. His reproductions of their characteristic traits were of remarkably even excellence, and in voice, manner, and gesture singularly faithful to their originals. Nothing equalling them in truth, vitality, and fineness of per- ception, had been seen in Boston, or has been seen since. It was something more, indeed, than mere mimicry ; some subtle infusion of the spirit of the original in each case coloring and elevating the merely mechanical feats of vocal reproduction. The outcome of this revelation of his exceptional powers was not, however, immediately flattering. The only practical result was an offer from the management of Niblo's Garden, New York, of an engagement to play " utility " business in their stock company under Charles Thorne, Sr., and Edward Eddy, which he at once accepted. The following season of 1874-1875 advanced him but little professionally ; and though he played a portion of the time with some forgotten trav- elling company on the road, he was for the most part idle. It was perhaps the niggardly behavior of the legitimate stage towards her younger votaries which experience brought forcibly to his notice at this period, that turned his attention toward the "variety" busi- ness, a branch of the profession then even more than now generous in its rewards to successful men. It was, at any rate, toward the close of this season that he made his dcbnt upon the variety stage in a sketch written for him by Joseph Bradford, and entitled, " Stage Struck," in the course of which he introduced his imitations. lie appeared in this at the Howard Athenaeum, the scene of his first success, to a somewhat diminished 382 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. popularity, and so was easily induced to abandon this private venture, and to accept an offer of engagement from Tony Pastor, whose company he joined at a salary of fifty dollars a week. A goodly portion of the year 1875 was passed by Mr. Goodwin as a member of this organization at Mr. Pastor's New York house, then sit- uated on Broadway. This period was one of rapid ad- vancement for the young actor both in popularity and profit, his salary the best measure of his success having attained, at the time he finally left New York, the handsome figure of five hundred dollars a week. But the variety business, however lucrative, was never wholly to Mr. Goodwin's liking ; and always upon the lookout for some better vehicle for his talents, he finally hit upon burlesque. Refusing many flattering offers to continue upon the variety stage, he resolutely turned his back upon its fugitive honors, and accepted an engagement with Matt Morgan, then managing what is now the Fourteenth Street Theatre, where he appeared as Captain Crosstree in the burlesque of " Black-Eyed Susan." His success in this new line was pronounced, and elicited a flood of offers during the remainder of the season of 1875-1876. At the close of his season at the Fourteenth Street Theatre, he went to Philadelphia to play a " star " engagement at the Walnut Street Theatre in conjunction with the late John Brougham. Here he played his first legiti- mate comedy part, that of Tom Tape in " Sketches in India," the second being Stephen Poppincourt in "The Little Rebel." The Laura of the latter piece was Miss Minnie Palmer, who later in the season appeared with Mr. Goodwin at the Howard Athenaeum in his old sketch, "Stage Struck," for a brief season. NAT C. GOODWIN. 383 It was in the part of Captain Crosstree that Mr. Goodwin first attracted the attention of Mr. E. E. Rice, with whom he was afterwards long and closely associated, and who promptly engaged him to play the part of Captain Dietrich in the forthcoming produc- tion of his and Mr. J. Cheever Goodwin's once famous burlesque, " Evangeline," in which Mr. Goodwin ap- peared on the evening of July 10, 1876, at the Boston Museum, with great success. This cast is also notable for the circumstance, that in it Messrs. Henry E. Dixey and Richard Golden, both of whom have since become distinguished in their several ways in their profession, appeared, in a purely figurative sense, as the fore and hind legs, respectively, of the celebrated heifer. This date marks the beginning of an engagement which endured without interruption until 1878, when Mr. Goodwin parted company with Mr. Rice, and went upon the road at the head of an organization of his own. It was during this engagement that he met Miss Eliza \Veathersby, one of the famous beauties of Lydia Thompson's celebrated burlesque company, to whose Gabriel he played Le Blanc, at the Boston Museum, during the second engagement of the " Evangeline " Company, in January, 1877. An attachment sprang up between them during this season, which culminated in their marriage on June 24, 1877, by the Rev. M. Kennedy of New Rochelle, N.Y. This well-assorted union of talent and beauty continued in mutual artistic helpfulness and probable domestic bliss until the mel- ancholy death of Mrs. Goodwin in New York, March 23, 1887. At the close of Mr. Goodwin's engagement with Mr. Rice in 1878, he and his wife gathered about them a 384 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. company, and, under the name of " The Eliza Weath- ersby Froliques," went on tour in a piece called " Hob- bies," written for them by Mr. B. E. Woolf, of the Boston Saturday Evening Gazette. This proved a most profitable venture, the piece continuing in great popu- larity for the greater part of two seasons. It was an invertebrate work written, as it was played, in the most extravagant spirit of burlesque humor, and developed nothing new in Mr. Goodwin. In iSSi Mr. Goodwin again joined forces with Mr. Rice, with whom he pro- duced at the Boston Museum, on July 4, 1881, Mr. Woolson Morse's " Cinderella at School," the partner- ship being described as " The Rice-Goodwin Lyric Comedy Co." The piece was not long-lived ; its early demise forcing the surviving partnership into the more successful expedient of presenting Mr. Goodwin as Lorenzo, Bunthorne, and other heroes of light opera, a line in which his comic powers enabled him to make a good impression. In the following regular season of 1881-1882, Mr. Goodwin, again supported by his own company, ap- peared as Onesimus Epps, in a production of Mr. George R. Sims's comedy, "The Member for Slocum." His admirable light comedy acting in this part gave to the public the first hint of this actor's possession of powers of a much higher and finer order than his pre- vious opportunities had permitted to appear. But the public were singularly obtuse ; and the piece, eked out by the familiar and uproarious "Hobbies," only ran a single season. His Sim Lazarus, in "The Black Flag," produced in conjunction with Mr. Edwin Thorne dur- ing the season 1882-1883, was a much less praiseworthy piece of acting, but a more pronounced hit. During NAT C. GOODWIN. 385 this season, in May, 1883, Mr. Goodwin participated in the Cincinnati Dramatic Festival, appearing as the First Grave-digger in " Hamlet," and as Modus in " The Hunchback." The former was his first Shakespearian part, save that of Launcelot Gobbo, which he once played as an amateur. His next and last serious essay of Shakespeare was his performance of Mark Antony, at Tony Hart's benefit in New York, March 22, 1888. The last decade of Mr. Goodwin's career is much too familiar to theatre-goers to require more than the most summary review. In his bill for the season of 1884- 1885 is seen his abject surrender to circumstances, and his practical acceptance of his admirers' humble valua- tion of his talent. It was "Hobbies" again, re-enforced by " Those Bells," a short burlesque of a most de- pressing and dispiriting sort, notwithstanding Mr. Goodwin's clever imitation of Mr. Irving in the lead- ing character. "The Skating Rink," his attraction for 1885-1886, again presented its leading actor in a state of artistic eclipse to an enormous business. "Little Jack Sheppard " (1886-1887) also did a great deal for the box-office, and very little for Mr. Good- win. "Turned Up," the hit of the next two seasons, was a little better, the gradual return of the actor's artistic courage being somewhat unfortunately marked by the addition, in 1888-1889, to this bill, of a version of De Barville's " Gringoire," in which little play of almost tragic power and elevation, Mr. Goodwin, not- withstanding some very earnest, painstaking and praise- worthy acting, was very disappointing. It was during this season in Chicago, on Oct. 17, 1888, that Mr. Goodwin married his second wife, Miss Nella Baker (Mrs. Kdward Pease). 386 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. The season of 1889-1890 was a memorable one in Mr. Goodwin's career, since it provided him in the part of Woolcott, in Messrs. Brander Matthews's and George H. Jessop's admirable play, " A Gold Mine," with a means of demonstrating the possession of dramatic powers of the highest order in the line of comedy, in a purity of quality and strength of exercise that sur- prised even his most sanguine critics. Mr. Goodwin's boundless capacity for surprising his audiences in bur- lesque by the fecundity of his comic invention and the variety and unexpectedness of his humor, and in farce by the justness, delicacy, and discretion of his art of caricature, did not fail him in the higher walk of com- edy. In his faithful and earnest presentation of the character of Woolcott, he attained a cogency of charac- terization and a moving force of pathos that were alto- gether admirable. His power of conviction in this character, notwithstanding the faint flavor of exaggera- tion which some of its scenes possessed, was simply overwhelming in its authority, and his command of the serious sympathies of his audience absolute and potent. Nothing at once finer, stronger, or more entirely artistic than this performance had been given to the stage for many years, yet there were still to be found among his admirers those who pined for "The Skating Rink" and its incoherent joys. To this class he made, during the season of 1890-1891, the customary concession in the production of " The Nominee," an ingenious piece of a more farcical sort than its predecessor, in which Mr. Goodwin again found popularity. In conjunction with this piece Mr. Goodwin also appeared nightly to no particular result in a short play of serious interest en- titled "The Viper on the Hearth." NAT C. GOODWIN. 387 In England, which Mr. Goodwin visited profession- ally for the first time in the summer of 1890, his talents met with a very flattering recognition both from press and public. His Woolcott in " A Gold Mine " was warmly praised, though the general impression made by the piece was less favorable than here, and the critical estimate of its chief actor somewhat tinctured by a consequent prejudice. In "The Bookmaker," a play by Mr. J. W. Pigott, in which he essayed the character of Sir Joseph Trent, a cockney type quite alien to his experience, his abilities were warmly and unreservedly recognized by the critical press. Alto- gether, the position which Mr. Goodwin established for himself before the English public was juster to his talents, and of considerably greater artistic dignity, than he held at that period at home. In this year Mr. Good- win also produced, in addition to the successful "A Gold Mine," a piece by the late Steele Mackaye, en- titled " Col. Tom," which signally failed to earn good opinions, either for itself or for its producer. The list of the plays in which Mr. Goodwin has appeared during the last five seasons is a most grati- fying one; since it indicates no halting or retrogression in his artistic progress, and gives ample assurance that this actor's emancipation from his early admirers is final and complete. They are, briefly, as follows : 1891- 1892, "A Gold Mine" and "The Nominee," the lat- ter supplemented by a curtain raiser called "Art and Nature;" 1892-1893, Mr. Henry Guy Carlton's "A Gilded Fool," a most satisfactory piece both in itself and in its relation to its protagonist, though standing toward Messrs. Jessop and Matthews's play much as plated ware stands towards solid metal, as its title 388 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. happily indicates ; 1893-1894, Mr. Gus. Thomas's ad- mirable play, "In Mizzoura," in which, in the character of Jim Radburn, Mr. Goodwin again impressed himself upon his critics as an actor of the highest powers in comedy ; 1894-1895, Robertson's " David Garrick," eked out with " Lend Me Five Shillings," and revivals of " A Gilded Fool " and " In Mizzoura ;" 1895-1896, Mr. Henry Guy Carlton's "Ambition," which hap- pily summarizes the spirit of this excellent series. This ends the portion of Mr. Goodwin's career which has become history ; his present he is himself writing nightly upon the stage, while his future can only be determined by astrologers, who alone know the "stars," among which lie may be indubitably reckoned. His present historian can only hope, upon what he deems excellent grounds, for the best. There is a certain difficulty in ending the "life" of a man who is still alive, closely akin to the awkwardness of committing actual homicide. The speediest way in either case is undoubtedly the most humane, and so the bell rings and the curtain falls upon this chronicle. But it is the " act drop," fortunately, that is rung down upon suspended dramatic interest, as in a good play, and not the "green baize" that dismally descends upon the final catastrophe; and in the acts still to come from the author's hands, we have no reason to fear any falling off of interest or anti-climax until the great cul- minating " death scene " that the worst of actors must still play naturally. Xt-** Hjg DENMAN THOMPSON. DENMAN THOMPSON AND OUR RURAL LIFE DRAMA BY E. IREN/EUS STEVENSON. THE theatre's picturing of country life, according to its most real and familiar aspects in the United States, that is to say, the play in which such picturing is an end, and not an incident, is relatively a recent matter. The play is not the thing in such a development. The types and scenery and properties are the first consider- ations. An old plough, or the sunset on a barn-door, are more valuable details in these phases of art than "situation;" and a cowherd's call well shouted is nearer the point of things than a rattling dialogue. In Austria and Germany an admirable and delightful dra- matic article of this kind has achieved a firm existence, thanks, especially, to the sympathetic cleverness of such a pair of collaborators as Hans Neuert and Ludwig Ganghofer, and to the art of such a company now, alas! dispersed as Munich's "Gartnerplatz-Theater " one. France has had no such concentrated pictures of its provincial and rustic existence. Kngland has lacked them. Italy and the North know nothing so special. In this country, only with the careers of Mr. Denman Thompson and a small group - in which Mr. Neil Bur- gess and Mr. Richard Golden have grown famous 3*9 39 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO DAY. have the similitudes of humble country existence been transferred to the city, with instant, attentive, and vast favor, a result much like the thriving of a potted wild-flower in a florist's window. Mr. Thompson certainly has afforded an extraordi- nary exposition of this fact. Born in Girard, Pa., in 1833, but growing up in the little suburb, so to say, of Keene, N.H., he early trifled with the profession until he attracted the notice of a shrewd manager. He there- with stepped into stage-life for good, out of an uncle's big "store," when about nineteen. He spent a con- siderable number of early seasons as a stock-actor, playing melodrama in Canada and the States. There be those who have seen Mr. Thompson long ago in vaudeville, and even as Sir Lucius O'Trigger, to Mr. Robson's Bob Acres ! But Mr. Thompson did not meet his true and happiest future until, out of a mere afterpiece, out of a feature of a variety performance, he began to elaborate, and at last to bring to an inde- pendent and widely-known fame, the play, "Joshua Whitcomb," with which his name almost his personal- ity is now associated, including in the association its sequel, "The Old Homestead." "Joshua Whitcomb " undoubtedly owed much of its "start" to managerial enterprise and expense. It will be recalled that Mr. Hill made the indifferent eye weary with his enormous flood of advertisements of every sort, in degrees and ways then novel. But all the afficJics in creation will not make a play a national success ; and such successes, beyond a question, have been both "Joshua Whitcomb " and even more violently "The Old Homestead." For some twenty years Mr. Thompson has played nothing else. The public would have nothing else DENMAN THOMPSON. 391 from him. One passing effort to substitute a new piece was almost ignored, and it had to be retired. " Uncle Joshua " ran a course of nearly a dozen years before Mr. Thompson and his agent, Mr. Ryder, concocted its successsor. Accordingly, with " The Old Homestead " appended, the stage history of Mr. Thompson is told. He has lately retired. He has retired enriched and almost beloved by his enormous American public. The play continues, to be sure, in other charge ; but the original Uncle Josh is only a spectator from afar of its intense vitality. How long is it going to keep on living, pleasing, drawing? Ten years longer ? twenty ? The play, taking " The Old Homestead," undoubt- edly owes its success to its sincerity as tableau, if not drama. It presents studies, as now we all know, of " real folk" good men and true of Keene and adja- cent neighborhoods. The original Uncle Josh, the original Cy Prime, are transferences from flesh and blood. Moreover, in general physique, voice, and out- ward havior Mr. Thompson has curiously fitted into the part he plays with such simplicity and naturalness. The story is well constructed, and not too theatric. One can hardly detect where Mr. Thompson's profes- sional technique enters into so smooth and apparently spontaneous a delineation. He dominates the action and scenes delightfully. He and they bring the heart of the country into the metropolis, bring thither the element from which the hitter's bone and sinews so largely have come. The old New York or Hoston or Chicago merchant, his fashionable but warm-hearted wife, ah ! they forget these times of their dub-life and opera-box in this play. They are carried back to 392 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. the countryficd environment and feelings of childhood. The present seems unreal, the theatrical hours seem the truth. The children enjoy the piece's humor less sen- timentally, but just as keenly. It catches every genuine nature in its honest grip. It is almost wholly genuine ; the nearest and most unexaggerated stage-picture of character that is the salt of the American race. With Mr. Neil Burgess and "The County Fair," we have a hurried and ill-carpentered bit of rural drama, originally intended only as broad humor, intended even as caricature. But gradually it became perceptibly modified and a bit chastened by Mr. Burgess's employ- ment of a more refined and natural art in the central character of Abigail Prue. The piece, through his skill and simplicity of treatment, as well as by its elaborate and attractive incidents of New England farm-keeping, is valuable as a type of the special rural-life drama ; much as is Mr. Thompson's little repertory. Mr. Burgess has made an emotional evolution of Abigail. We may laugh at her pantalettes. But there are traits of her warm heart, her sentiment under an uncouth exterior, her simplicity of nature, that bring deeper emotions to us. The femininity of Mr. Burgess's brusque presentation is wonderful ; and it makes Abi- gail a lesson in Vermontism in petticoats, in homely, cordial spinsterhood. Therein lies its merit and even dignity. No, Abigail Prue must not be counted now as mere burlesque or horse-play. Mr. Burgess has little by little elevated his heroine, given us a finer and carefuller study of human nature to take home with us. We would go to a real Abigail in trouble, to meet good advice and a grave face. She is American, a daughter of her country in spindle-curls and thick DENMAN THOMPSON. 393 boots ; and she deserves perpetual honor and affection, in undercurrent to our mirth. Mr. Golden's "Old Jed Prouty " has ceased its course. It was a mechanical and insincere piece, too much of the "real-pump, splendid-tub" manufacture, at best. But as Old Jed Mr. Golden delineated a Maine hotel-keeper in the Bucksport neighborhood with much truthfulness, a shrewd, kindly, well-seasoned stick of Northern timber. The play's pictures, too, in setting him, were delightfully rustic. His making-up, dressing, manner, accent, everything was lifelike; and the scenes became more natural as he predominated them. In such a little episode as the dialogue between Prouty and the chattering youngsters, Mr. Golden was charm- ing. The "real" people, the actual, e very-day sort of situation, could not be more faithful. The play was too obviously carpentered to deserve life ; but Prouty merited a longer career than was his fate. I have not touched here on the picture-drama of our distinctively Western or Southern country life ; for it has not achieved, as yet, any such independent exist- ence as has the New England article. Of this latter, however, the three best types are those above noted. Differentiating them, I should say that Mr. Thomp- son, on the whole, has expressed it with the nicest actuality of the three, Mr. Burgess coining short only because of an original strain of caricature not convenient to dismiss ; and Mr. Golden perhaps more an idealizer than cither, during the short-lived example he undertook. In any case, by such efforts we have quite faithful studies of New England mankind ami womankind ; and it is strange, it is sometimes pathetic, to sit and watch and hear them with the clangor of 394 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. cable-cars and the roar of the elevated railway pene- trating the metropolitan theatre, as a reminder that the real chapter is remote, is passed or passing for us, at least i 1 1 Since the above article was written, it is due to Mr. James A. Hearn to note that he has added through the play of "Shore Acres" another special and signif- icant illustration of our drama of rustic life and rural character. The limits of this article permit only a reference here to Mr. Ilearn's delineation, so genuinely and affectionately just ; and that esteemed actor deserves a biographic page and lines of appreciation not practicable here. EDWARD HARRIGAN IN "OLD LAVENDER EDWARD HARRIGAN. BY VV. S. BLAKE. THE stage possesses in Edward Harrigan an interest- ing and unique personality, interesting, as continued and most liberal public approval attests, unique both in the matter and in the manner of his dramatic doings. Toplofty criticism finds it difficult, or so affects, to seriously consider the plays and acting of the Harrigan stage ; but the play-going public has not waited for these official declarations, and has crowded pit and gallery in enthusiastic commendation. The verdict of the masses is decidedly with Mr. Harrigan, and for reasons to them more positive and palpable than often present themselves to the professional critic. Enu- merate these, and you have that which is peculiar and effective in the work of Edward Harrigan. Natural scenes, local incidents, fidelity to actual con- ditions, the sayings and doings of a real life of which we personally know by contact or observation, an un- forced portrayal of types of character that may easily be more comical in the e very-day world than in its mimic counterpart, a bona fide Irishman, a prime article in Irishwomen, a dyed-in-the-wool negro, and a jolly mob of lesser lights of the same general persuasions, 395 396 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. in a rollicking jumble of ludicrous incident, rough-and- tumble fightings, violent breakdowns, hurrah singings of most popular melodies original to these representa- tions, this is about what the thousands turn out to see, and this is a Harrigan play. Mr. Harrigan catches Nature at her vantage points, and makes real life serve the ends of public amuse- ment. He does this with apparent ease, and yet only by the exercise of observation most varied and acute, and by a sensitive apprehension of the dramatic pos- sibilities in things around him. And people like it all because they feel a human relationship to their dra- matic environment, a fellow-feeling for fellow-men. Ima- gination is not taxed to catch obscurities, nor credulity to surround improbabilities. No matter what the ab- surdity of situation, it is all for fun ; and, like a lot of children, we agree to play it's so. With Harrigan both brain and nerves may take a full night off. We are then at mental ease for frolic only; and in the com- fortable atmosphere of this very world in which we all must play our parts, both audience and actor rollick along, and have a mighty good time together. The full measure of Mr. Harrigan's abilities as a writer of acceptable plays we believe has never yet been taken. Popular favor caught the clever comedian years ago in the midst of some local one-act sketches that served as after-pieces to the old-time regulation variety show, and has held him to his work ever since, with a tenacity that has indeed been profitable in box- office returns, but neither encouragement nor educa- tion for other and better work. The amusement-loving public holds Harrigan to a perpetual contract to serve up Mulligans and Reillys only, and joins with the crit- EDWARD HARRIGAN. 3917 ical gentlemen of the press in jealous watch against all attempts at emancipation from these familiar lines. To act in such lines as Mr. Harrigan proposes for himself seems again too simple a task to give criticism a hold ; it is all so easy, all so lifelike, nothing of art about it, nothing of effort. Anybody could do it, with only a mouth full of brogue and a sea-dog roll to his legs that is all. But is it? First, the conventional Irishman of the variety stage is an undivided affliction may we be spared his brogue and his wit! Then, too, there is hardly such a thing as spontaneous, natu- ral acting ; the nearer the approach to nature on the stage, the greater the art. It is easier to stride and to strut than to easily walk through the scenes, and to declaim than simply to talk. Heroics is the cheapest type of dramatic outfit. The very best to be said of Harrigan's acting is that he makes us forget he is acting. His methods are his own, neither broad nor flexible, neither elaborate nor subtle, but direct and legitimate at every point of application. Jovial but not boisterous, as wholesome in his wit as hearty, free and easy in every movement, yet never coarse. The art that can maintain itself amidst such temptations to buffoonery and extravagance must be both an in- stinct and a cultivated sense. If all we knew of Mr. Harrigan were what we have seen of him in his usual lines, we would yet yield to his impersonations this undoubted merit of real crea- tions. But here, again, satisfaction is tempered with regret. Whatever the success of the favorite Harrigan roic, and whatever the commercial reasons for its con- tinuance, we cannot refrain from once more calling to the footlights our old friend Lavender, that we may 398 FAMOUS AMERICAN ACTORS OF TO-DAY. applaud the actor in this creation quite as generously as the author. Everybody likes " Ned " Harrigan, as thousands who have never met him socially yet term him ; and when the fine-faced Irishman rolls in on the stage, under whatever name for the occasion, he is welcomed with a warm-hearted, personal fervor that is at once half the battle for an all-around evening's enjoyment. Harrigan belongs to New York ; by birth and education, and by the more significant part of his professional history, his ties are in that city. There he was born of Irish parentage, Oct. 26, 1845. Though beginning his stage career in 1867 in San Francisco, as far from his native town as the confines of the country would permit, he soon found himself amidst his immediate friends again, and began at once to surround himself with that wide personal clientage which is so peculiarly his property to-day. After a few years of experience in variety, he formed a partnership with Tony Hart in 1871 ; and that part- nership continued fourteen years. In 1875 Mr. Hanley joined forces with the then famous Harrigan and Hart combination ; and a year later the firm opened, fast and furious, at the old Comique. Those were the halcyon days of variety entertainments, when Nat Goodwin was doing his act all unconscious of coming comedy suc- cesses, and Wilson and Hopper were acquiring agility for " Merry Monarch " and " Wang " successes, and when Harrigan and Hart wound up the show with some roaring sketch of local stripe. Soon this usually neglected after-piece began to have a special impor- tance with the crowds at the Comique. Harrigan had hit the public fancy. Gradually there was added to EDWARD HARRIGAN. 399 these originally trivial conceits, until they bloomed out at last into full-fledged farce, and bore the brunt of the evening's entertainment. That meant " The Mulligan Guards," the jolliest lot of local trash that ever held the boards. A new and spacious theatre only increased the public appetite for Harrigan wit, and then came the fire that wiped out the faithful work of years. At this house (1881-1884) were produced "The Major," " Squatter Sovereignty," more " Mulligan Guards " pieces, " Cordelia's Aspirations." A less strong character than that of the subject of this sketch might have quailed at the misfortune of the fire; but this man was not so constituted, and soon had the curtain raised to a Harrigan play at the Park Theatre, farther up town. Here came in rapid succes- sion "The Leather Patch," "The O'Reagans," "Pete," " Old Lavender," and the other plays that have made so many of us laugh with pleasure. But fortune did not fix the actor-author permanently in any play-house, and a still later experience with theatre-managing had to be abandoned. Other cities, however, are thereby the gainer, since Harrigan's company is the more to be seen in the combination houses of the country. L 005 868 936 5 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY F jii inn NIII mil inn A 001 069 363 8