vsoi'^ '%sa3A!Nnm'^ "^Anvaaii-^ "^^Anvaani^ m SO S5 HN^ % y -dr. ^0^ dOSANCElfx^ !FOP^, <.5!af! ANCEIG^ iauiNfl-JWV ,^ I .# ^' 3E. < ..# 8 en s ■'o'Aoviian-li^ JjliJAViUl-^-' ■-■VituAlfiiiir.^- ■'^A. i 6 V § S-3 ^'-dAINI]-3\\V^ ^^OJITVDJO'^ '%0JIWD-JO'^ ^ ^^ /•=^>»«* 'g ^.0FCAIIF0%, A-OfC'^ ^ 5 V g ; NEW YORK : THK AMEIilCAlSr ISTETVS COMiP^^lSrY, 119 AND 121 Nassau Street. 1 866. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1863. by WILLIAM DAVIDGJJ, In tli^ Cleric's Offloe of the District Courl of the Ponthern District of New York. • « • • • • • • ♦ • » • . • • ••.... . ••■ « « (VJ " The Drama is the most perfect imitation of human lile ; by means of the stage it represents man in all his varieties of mind, his expressions of manner, and his power of action ; and is,^e first of moralities, because it teaches us in the most impressive way the knowledge of ourselves." — Hazlit. TO EDWIN FORREST, Esq., THIS BOOK BY HIS SINCERE PE0FE33I0XAL ADMIBEE, WILLIiJVI DAVIDGE. Beookltn, N. Y, 1866. ILLUSTRATIONS. THE CALL BOY, . THE MOOjST box, THE FLATS, THE BRACE, . THE TRAVELLER, THE PROPERTY ROOM, THE GAS DIAL, . THE TRAP — OPEN, . THE TRAP — CLOSED, . CURTAIN WINDLASS, THUNDER DRUM. RAIN BOX, PAINT ROOM AND FRAME, BALLET AT REHEARSAL, . WARDROBE ROOM, • • • X age. . 140 . , 148 . 149 150 . 151 157 . 159 159 . 160 160 . 161 161 . 165 177 . 190 CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. An Autobiography and its Consequences. — The Life of an Actor. — Its Dreary Beginning and Difficult Progression. — Stage Struck Ladies and Gentlemen. — A Virulent Attack. — The late Mr. J. P. Harley on Not- ices. 1 CHAPTER n. I am Born. — My Father and IMother. — Music. — Efforts at the Shrine of Apollo. — Physic as an Alterative. 7 CH.\PTER m. Adieu to London. — On the Road. — Inquisitive Natives. — The bar at the Inn. — The Landlord and his Wife. — Brighton. — Interview with the Manager. — The Inn amongst the Elms. — Its Customers and Cattle. 10 CHAPTER IV. The Countrymen and the Waiting Maid. — Story of Jacob Millet. 18 CHAPTER V. The Beauty at the Inn. — The Country Manager. — My Ardor Check- ed. — The Play in the Malt House. — Richard and Richmond. — Combat and Comic result. — The gouty Manager. — His susceptible Nature. 24 X CONTENTS. CHAPTER VI. Dramatic Aspirants. — The Oracle of the Village. 85 CHAPTER VII. Tom^Berry. — Dilemma in Blank Verse. — Managerial Wives. — The Phenomenon. — AshforJ. — The Town Hall. — Douglas and Popping the Question — Edmund Kean's Battle Field Hat. — Appearance in London. — Sheffield. — Mr. & Mrs. Wood, the Vocalists. — Attempt at Opera. — Nor- wich Circuit. — Marriage. — Manchester. — Edinboro. — Dublin. — Robson the Comedian. — Prejudice of Caste ! 45 CHAPTER VIII. Smythson the Dramatic Agent. — Funerals of Mrs. Siddons and Ed- mund Kean. — First impression of Edmund Kean. — First Night of a New Play in London. 58 CHAPTER IX. Benefit Making. — Burton and his Napoleon Patron. — Stage Door- Keeper. 70 CHAPTER X. Lecture on Charles Dickens. — Fanny Kemble and Negro Minstrelsy. 79 CHAPTER XI. The Parson and the Player. 90 CHAPTER XII. The Drunken Actor. — Oxberry. — An Actor's last Will and Testament — Stealing anothers Thunder. — Windsor Castle. — Court Theatricals. — Lon- don. — G. V. Brooke and Lysander Thompson. 99 CONTENTS. XI CHAPTER Xin. On the Ocean. — The Passengers. — The Virginian Politician. — Henry Clay. — Halifax and the Dog Trader. 155 CHAPTER XIV. The Broadway Theatre. — The Star system. — Mr. WaUack's Plaa. — Ne- gro Minstrelsy. — Candidates for Dramatic Fame. 115 CH.iPTER XV. Behind the Scenes. — The Call Boy. — The Dressing Rooms. — Music Room. — The New Play. — Stage at Rehearsals. — Parlor Theatricals. — Colored fires. — The Manager's Office. — The Paint Room. — Property Man. — Mr. Battledore's fovorite Story. — Classification of Actors. — Playing policy. — Managerial Diplomacy. — The Ballet. — The Ballet Mas- ter. — Salary day. — Rules to enforce Attention. — The Soubrette. — Dra- matic Mothers. — The Wardrobe. — The Old Actor. — The Needy Actor. — End of the Season. — Adieus to the public. — Congratulations and Supper. 132 CHAPTER XVI. Westward. — Toledo. — Projected Immolation. — Salisbury at Chica- go. — The Light Comedian. — A very long Song. 199 CHAPTER XVII. The Science of Ticket Speculation. — The Walking Gentleman. — The Dramatic Washington. 21'4 CHAPTER XVIII. Mose in Canada. — The Tragedian. — The Job Actor. — Palmy days of the Drama. 227 CHAPTER XIX. Lotteries. — Lucky Number. — Defeat of the Americans at the Mimic Battle of Monterey. — The Western Enthusiast. — A convivial Au- dience. 246 XU CONTENTS. CHAPTER XX. The Loyal Marine. — Reading a part on the Stage. — Barney Williams and the Indignant Patlander. 258 CHAPTER XXI. The Duties of an Actor. — ^Theatre Preaching. — Alleyne's Charity. — Motive for this act. — Conclusion. 264 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. CHAPTER I. The web of life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together. —AWs Well that Ends Well. Act 4, Scene 8. If there be anything more detestable than writing one's Autobiography, the individual who now essays the task, would be glad to know what it is. This assertion is made fearlessly, and without dread of contradiction ; but, if one of my captious readers should consider me unworthy of credit, let him, or her, try the experiment, and allow me to sit in judgment on the document. Everybody has doubtless heard the story of the man who was suffering from a bad cold in his head, j^rotesting to his friend that " there was nothing in the world so bad as a cold in the head ! " The friend protested that he was in error, and named as a greater affliction, " two colds in the headr The same may be said of an Autobiography. Nothing can be so bad as owe, except the perpetration of two. The life of an actor presents to the youthful and super- ficial observer, charms of no ordinary degree of interest ; for there is no profession that holds so much sway, or takes such firm possession of the youthful mind, as that of acting. Well do I remember loitering when a boy, for hours together at the stage doors of Covent Garden and Drury Lane Theatres, to watch the actors arrive at, or depart from, those temples of the drama. Little did I 2 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. then imagine that, in after life I should be on terms of professional fellowship with many of those I regarded (in my simplicity) as something more than mortal. From the dreary and unpleasant prospect that has been, and still is, held out by some historians to aspirants for theatrical honors, and from the many hardships, and unpleasantries attending the pursuit of an occupation "which in the end leads merely to an uncertain glory, it has proved a source of wonder in many reflective minds, that so great a number have been found bold enough to venture upon the culture of an art so fraught "with disa- greeables ; an art in which so few of the great mass of actors ever render themselves decidedly eminent. And yet the number of youthful candidates who so incessantly stand forward to brave every danger attending a theatri- cal career, is immense. That an actor's life is one of great anxiety, cannot reasonably be doubted or disputed, when it is seen how quickly public taste and opinion veers. An actor for a time becomes the very idol of the public; he is flattered on all sides. His praise is resounded to almost every corner of the country, and his performances attended by all the beauty and fashion a gay metropolis can boast. But this lasts no longer than while his excellences are new, and possess the charm of novelty. When that is past, and public curiosity is gratified, we find him, (save in the rarest of instances), sink into cold and silent neg- lect. Peculiar circumstances tend to give zest to theatrical anecdote, and as admiration naturally stimulates curiosity, the history of those to whom the mirth, or sensibility of so many pleasant evenings are due, must interest and gratify. The heroes and heroines of the buskin in their real, as well as assumed characters, experience that vicissi- tude and adventure to which the unvaried tenor of me- chanical industry is an entire stranger. Their life teems FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 6 with incident whicli almost seems destined to realize the fictions they rej^resent. The early period of their jDro- fessional career is therefore generally clouded with diffi- culties unknown, even in imagination, to those whose pursuits have a different proclivity. " The stage 'tis said, by right should be a school To shame the guilty, and amend the fool." So writes some one whose name " lives not in my memo- ry," but the poet is grievously in error, if his couplet alludes to the votaries of that enchanting of all professions, "the stage." For no sooner does some ambitious youth, who is perhaps partially initiated in the art and mystery of spouting, and may have, at sundry times, and in divers places, been allowed to deliver certain portions of the inspired language of the '•'-hard of Avon ^''^ determine (from the ill-judging applause of his own companions perhaps) to adopt theatricals as his future profession, than he plunges headlong into folly. IIow far a dramatic per- formance may be allowed to arouse the dormant feelings of benevolence, justice, penitence, or mercy, in the minds of an audience, I leave to more able pens to describe ; but of this I am conscious from personal experience, that no sooner does an individual indulge in ecstatic day dreams (and night dreams too, occasionally,) of waving plumes, glittering falchions, and spangled trappings — with all the attendant additions of scenic castles, rocks, forests, &c., &c., than he pants ardently as lover ever did for the mo- ment which shall give to his arms his well-bcloved, for that auspicious day which shall find him enrolled a wan- dering child of Thespis. Oh ! guardian angel of the respected and beloved, why wast thou slumbering when thy child quitted the paternal roof, to " strut and fret his hour upon the stage." But sufiice it, the profession hath its charms, and the love of 4 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. it once engendered in the youthful mind, never can be wholly or entirely eradicated. I have been for many years the unworthy representa- tive of all grades of human nature, from kings to beggars, and even now, at times experience as much pleasure as ever, and anticipate the hour when I am to appear in a favorite character, as anxiously as any amateur ever did^ Even such an insignificant circumstance (though by the way not so insignificant either to an actor) as a round of applause, has entirely revolutionized my sentiments. Perhaps I was disgusted with the profession, and had resolved to relinquish it for ever, and leturn, like a jDrodi- gal son, brimfuU of penitence. " And could a few unmeaning rounds of applause thus overthrow your intentions," I fancy I hear some sober-minded parent exclaim, with uplifted hands. 'Tis even so, and I have hastily resolved to pursue the enticing, though thorny path, which my sanguine hopes anticipated one day would lead to fame and renown. But I am beginning to moralize, the which is not the purpose of this theme ; further, what I have said applied to the state of the profession of the stage when I entered it, or rather, it might with truth be added, the condition of provincial theatres of the more minute class at that time. There was very little chance then of achiev- ing fame or profit, without roKghing it, and ascending, step by step, the round of the professional ladder. Now- a-days ladies and gentlemen, the former most particu- larly, cannot devote their attention to any less than the principal characters, and they will undertake the whole weight and consequence of a five act play Avith a temerity perfectly appalling to any one who is conversant with the difficulties of the operation. The gallantry of the public is of course, to a great extent, to blame for these futile attempts, by treating with favor and approbation what FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. O they Jcnoio to be unworthy the .attention they bestow upon it. It is as impossible to make an actress without expe- rience, as it would be for a surgeon to qualify for the duties oihis profession, without a thorough probation in the science of anatomy. This epidemic for stepping at a bound into the position of Stars, broke out with great virulence a year or two since among the fair sex, but I have not* heard that the result, in a single instance, has been such as to justify the belief the ladies erroneously entertained of their histrionic skill, or to satisfy their friends that the monies invested in charges paid to mana- gers for first appearances, have been wisely or profitably expended. A terrible disease burst upon Great Britain immediately after the production of the "Lady of Lyons," and both sexes fell victims to the calamity with equal severity. I am fully aware, while penning these lines, how im- possible it will be to induce many of my readers — espe- cially those who have fallen victims to an attack of the previously described malady — to give credence to my assertions, or place the smallest reliance upon this opinion. I desire, however, to adduce as an illustration of my views, the remarks of the late Mi*. Harley, the celebrated come- dian, which is jjertinent to this very important question.* "In the year 1840, 1 was a member of the Bristol thea- tre. During the season Mr. H. came from London to play an engagement. The conversation happened to turn upon the subject of "full blown artists," as he termed them^ who hadn't patience, or industry, to wait till the " bud of their talent began to blossom." "AVhen I first acted Shakspeare's Clowns," said he, "I was a very young man, and felt quite satisfied that the rendition of those parts could not possibly be so well and ti'uthfully presented by established actors of that period * Mr. Harley died August 22, 1858, aged 68. 6 rOOTLIGHT FLASHES. as by myself. I felt satisfied that I was tlie coming man who was to clearly define the great poet's meaning, and remove the veil of doubt that had puzzled so many bril- liant minds. When I acquired a little more experience, I began gradually to realize the difiiculties, and as I fur- ther advanced, became more involved, till after acting them constantly for twenty years, I discovered, in com- parison to their extreme excellence, I knew really nothing about themP CHAPTER IL "How irksome is this music." — Second part Henry VI. Act 2. Scene 1. My stern parient was a merchant, of the city of London, (and not an actor, as some biograjDhers have written,) in which ancient city I was born, or, as it is poetically termed, '■'• first saw the light^'' on the 17th of April, 1814. The author of my being, who had a solidarity of cor- recting his offspring which will not readily be forgotten, while " Memory holds her seat in this distracted globe," had no dramatic proclivity. I am led, however, to the conclusion that he did not share in the antag-onism for places of rational amusement indulged in by some of the " pater fami-li-asses " of the present day, who attend the representation of Do7% Giovanni, in its lyrical garb with a religious enthusiasm ; but could not endanger their prospects of squaring accounts with the consciences, if they were to assist at a banquet of the intellectual food provided by the genius of Shakspeare. My mother was devoted to her home and children — of whom there were three — {children, not homes,) casting a halo of goodness around the domestic circle, performing cheerfully, and with an unsparing amount of womanly benignity her mission of usefulness, tempered with the sweet smile of that natural instinct bequeathed by an all 8 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. wise Providence, as a counter influence against the harder proportion of our common nature! For in those days the philosophy of woman's rights and other phantasma- goria of faith liad not cast their delusive nets into the ocean of domestic happiness, sapping the vitality of that peace it is its duty to promote, and by a fatal and errone- ous code of teaching, embittering the lives of those it should be its first desire to propitiate, by joining heart and hand in the common cause of mutual affection, confidence, sympathy, and love. It so happened, during the tedium incidental to a boy's bringing up, that some one skilled in musical lore, made the startling discovery that I possessed a voice which might be attuned to harmony after the necessary proba- tion had been gone through sufiiciently to " ground us in the science," — a favorite expression of the party in question. Gentle reader, did you ever labor under the infantile aflliction of a voice ? Only those who have been attacked by that virulent disorder, can form the minutest concep- tion of the suffering necessary to be endured. An houi-'s exercise on that vocal alphabet yclept the gamut, on the clammyest of mornings incidental to a London autumn, with a walk of a mile to the Cathedral of St. Paul, and there to find yourself habited in a clerical garb before a very limited quantity of early devotionals, is not an inter- esting proceeding for a youthful mind, whose only thought of the eligible future of such a probation is most probably centered in the protracted breakfast a ravenous appetite is anxiously waiting to pay court to, rather than the exer- cise of his vocal organ for hire and reward, when he shall arrive at the dignity of man's estate. At the age of fourteen, the voice above alluded to, after the i^erpetual grinding process to which it had been so unremittingly and audaciously subjected, became so ex- FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 9 quisitely tempered, that it either was ground down alto- gether, or, not finding the wear and tear upon its consti- tution likely to jDromote its ultimate usefulness, departed from its proprietary without the slightest intimation of its desire to peregrinate, or signifying its intention that it ever designed returning to its original location. Physic was the next experiment proposed, as holding out great inducements for a youth to get well up in the world, and become a person of substance, (in pocket, not flesh,) but during a month's probationary servitude, I was very nearly qualifying myself for a landed proprietorship in the neighboring burial-place, by swallowing a copious draught of what I in the innocence of my knowledge of pharmacy, believed to be a mild decoction of peppermint, but which, from certain unmistakable internal misgivings, proved to be something of a less innoxious natui'e, requiring the aid of a stomach-pump to dislodge it. This ingenious device, assisted by gentle emetics, restored me to a state of convalescence. Eccentricities of purpose, too numerous to particularize, beset me on every side, till, burning with dramatic ardor, I determined to shake the dust of London from my feet, and seek the provincial road to histrionic fame. A con- genial spirit, with the same end in view, accompanied me on my jDrobationary adventure. His proclivities were of a comic nature — mine, darJdy, deeply tragic. My store of worldly riches amounted to ten shillings and six pence sterling ; my wardrobe did not much retard locomotion, and with hearts SAvelling with expectations of future greatness, we wended our way towards Brighton, fifty-one miles from the great metropolis. CHAPTER III. " I do wander everywhere." — Midsummer JSfiyhVs Dream. Act 2. Scene 1. It was the middle of the month of June, when nature was attired in her most gorgeous garb, we left Kenning- ton Common behind us with a merry and elastic step. The delightful villas, and cosy dwellings, garnished with the choice perfume of rare exotics, and fashioned to meet the requirements of the man of wealth, who quits the bus- tle and din of business in the over-heated city, (that hive of commercial drudgery,) to luxuriate in domestic plea- sure and social ease, meet us at every turn. In other spots, with their wants more economically considered, stand the homes of the less fortunate laborers in the world's vineyard, their youthful branches bearing ample testimony (if any were needed) by their buoyant spirits and ruddy looks, of the invigorating influence of their ample breathing-place. The cows by the Avayside, and who are surveying the road from their pasture grounds, evidently believe that their natures have never been de- graded, or their personal pride aflfected by any admixture of their lacteal fluid at the hands of the metropolitan milkman. They chew their cud of satisfaction as we pass, without exhibiting a fear for the presence of strangers, so common among their species who sufier the ignominy of a residence in the midst of a crowded popu- lace. They wink, as their eyes follow us, till in looking FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 11 back, we see them retreat to their pasture, leaving the frothy essence from their mouths upon the tops of the hedges, like hoar frost on an early winter morning. We plodded on to Reigate, Avhere the chalky cliffs and extensive fields of limestone, impart a sensation of partial blindness as you abruptly encounter the sight from the brow of the hill, with the meridian sun seething them after a heavy shower of rain. The town presented nothing to impress you with the belief that its residents had ever visited the great city. We were nearly wet through, and by the time we reached the most business part of the tOAvn, the shades of night were creeping with a delicious twilight, gradually obscuring the spire of the Episco2:)al church, the only one of that form of worship the place could then boast. A couple of agricultural horses were enjoying their evening meal in front of the Green Dragon, and at the portal of that hostelry, assuming the character of a goodly pair of compasses, was the host, without his hat and coat. Proba- bly an unnecessary piece of information, it being conceded as an established fact that that fabulous personage, i. e. " the oldest inhabitant," has not furnished the world with a solitary instance of an English boniface ever having been seen habited in outer garments of that nature. Two sturdy fellows were superintending the ablution of the nether extremities of a splendid chesnut mare, whose expressive eye was turned winking an approval at the operation, while three or four of the juvenile popula- tion, paused in their conversation respecting the number of bushels of wheat to the acre Providence had in its bounty bestowed upon Farmer Stubble, to take a survey of the jaded travellers. The pleasure derivable from certain scenes or incidents, in our career, affect us in proportion to the conclusions we can arrive at after forming a diagnosis of their usefulness, 12 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. or adaptability for the several purposes of life, and if the minds of those youthful rustics could have been for an instant relieved of the bewilderment they had evidently fallen into by the sudden appearance of my friend and myself, it would not be difficult to believe that they enter- tained the most vague notions of our purpose and design. Petty larceny would have found few opportunities to exercise its prowess, if we had felt disposed to indulge in that fashionable weakness; for after we entered the Inn, and were enjoying our supper of bread, cheese, and ale, these inquisitive natives made numerous forays of enquiry, beguiling the early part of the evening with this con- genial provincial habit, at times, in the most playful man- ner, landing one of their brigade in the most confused condition in the middle of the sanded floor. Agricultural disquisitions are not particularly edifying to those whom fate destined to be ushered into life and reared towards man's estate within the precincts of great cities, it may, therefore, be readily supposed that when the usual occupants of the room began to assemble, that the quota of information w^e could impart on the subject, was not very extensive. It was somewhat of a relief when the landlord, for the purpose of drawing us out_ went headlong into politics, in which my fellow-traveller happened to be so well skilled that we wore soon per- fectly at ease, and, after the roughest portion of the visi- tors had departed, we, in company with two congenial spirits, were invited by the boniface to a friendly glass in his private sanctum behind the bar. What a cosy delightful place the bar of a country inn used to be to the tired traveller. The well polished pew- ter mugs depending from the brass nails garnishing the shelves, relieved here and there wdth bright tumblers, their thick circular pediments turned upwards, and sur mounted with large juicy lemons. The round of corned FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 13 beef, what a size the ox must have been, you think, as you contemplate the huge platter of metal that seems almost to groan beneath the weight of a single joint! The buck-horned handled carver and fork, protruding from its sides, the parsley so plentifully displayed in its refreshing green to impart a zest, if any were needed, to the appe- tite. The home-made bread, not sparingly paraded, but of fitting dimensions to suit the most voracious desire, the pickles, also of domestic preparation ; the wdiole sur- mounted by those infallible punch bowls of various sizes, from the quiet little revelry of a friend or two, to the annual Christmas cheer, when all available nature gives thanks to God for favors past, and invokes a blessing for the future. It was midnight when the guests departed, and we ascended and descended several tortuous stairs and pas- sages, to where we were to pass the night. The morning broke with nature's concert of feathered performers, cheerily carolling a welcome to the rising sun, each in ecstacy for the day-light, pouring forth a bright example to mellifluous mortals, who in operatic conjunction are seldom as harmonious as nature's choristei's. "What a breakfist we eat too ! The round of beef was a prominent performer at the feast. The smiles of the good natured landlady and her husband, who presided, had much to do with the comfort of the meal. We pre- pared to pursue our journey. We had serious misgivings that we had committed an act of impropriety by ban- queting so lavishly at the commencement of our journey, with our limited exchequer, nevertheless proceeded to disburse. There is a rough delicacy amongst the unlet- tered, of conferring favors, which we not unfrequently look for in vain from those who are skilled in all the arti- ficial refinements of luxury, education, and ease. This stalwart free-hearted boniface had listened the previous 14 FOOTLIGIIT FLASHES. night to our descriptious of the haunts and by-ways of London. He had read with wonder how persons from the country had been decoyed into the purchase of arti- cles of apparently great value, the retailers having only been induced to part with them from intuitive affection they couldn't possibly repress for the purchaser, the favored ones discovering when too late, that they had invested about two hundred per cent, above their actual cost. He had a boy who early in life displayed evidences of a roving disposition which he had felt it impossible to check, and from whom, during an absence of six years, he had heard but once. He pitied us that Ave, so young, were starting to seek, perhaps, a visionary glory — we were welcome — very happy to see us ; if ever we came that way again, we must not forget to call, and many more things in that delightfully awkward way in which modesty so universally bestows a compliment. I met this generous spirit some years afterwards. He had set- tled at Brighton. My professional position was very sat- isfactory, and I passed many pleasant hours with himself and wife, including the smart son who had been to Aus- tralia, and amassed considerable money by the culture of sheep. We had calculated our chances of something turning up, (like Micawber, though Mr. Dickens had not then introduced that celebrated individual to an admiring world,) from the fact that if that fashionable watering place failed to offer i;s half, or the entire receipts of each evening's performance for an unlimited period, there were other temples of Thespis at various points along the sea coast that would surely not be indifferent to their own interests, nor insensible to our great dramatic skill. Oh, delusive hope ! "We reached Brighton, that seat of salt water, folly, and flirtation, two days from the time we set out, weary, and footsore, with three shillings and nine- rOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 15 pence in our pockets, and two bad cases of influenza equally divided. We were, however, full of hope. We sought the mana- ger next morning, and found he was full too, not only of hope — for he had been hoping on, and expected to " hope ever " — but he had, as he expressed himself, " too many bad actors already in his company, and had no desire, with bad business staring him in the face, to augment the number." We took a sti'oll on the beach, where we held a coun- cil of "war in relation to our future prospects. Our com- panion suggested that, as we were nearly financially exhausted, or " stumped," as he poetically expressed it, the most desirable plan would be to shape our course towards London. I felt inwardly of the like opinion ; but my spirit was not so readily subdued, for I had determined to succeed, or perish in the attemj)t. We turned our steps, however, toward the point from whence we started, and enjoyed nine miles of cogitation, till we approached the delightful little town of Lewes. Here we learned, by an accident that sometimes did occur in those days of stage coaches, (we got sight of a newspaper,) that a small company, at a little town near Hastings, had been made smaller by the withdrawal of two of its members for a more extensive arena for the development of their pow- ers. We determined to make a trial of our fortunes with the Mogul who exerted his managerial sway over the company's destiny, and when we had succeeded in delighting the inhabitants of that district, and our fame and attractiveness should reach the ears of the Brighton magnate, what ecstacy we should experience as we beheld him entering the town as rapidly as post horses could bring him, entreating and beseeching us to favor his patrons with a glimpse of our excellence, at terms to be named bv ourselves. 16 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. Having settled this matter perfectly to our own satis- action, we invested a small amount of our worldly riches, in refreshments of as corpulent and nutritious a nature as we could aiford, and after wandering about the neio-h- boring fields, took up our quarters on the outskirts of the town, at a small inn, the like of which existed before the iron monster of the rail-road closed 'era up by bis absurdly expeditious habit of never giving people time to sleep on a journey. The sun was waning, and its lurid glare fast travelling out towards the sea with a diversified grandeur of color when we came upon a rural resting j^lace, lying in pic- turesque beauty within the embraces of a cluster of large elm trees. The dwelling had no pretensions to architec- tural propriety, being entirely independent of any known order, past or present, but there was a solid somnolent satisfaction about it as if it would say, " Here friend, you have good cheer, sweetened with a hearty welcome," which at once ingratiated itself into your good opinion. A picture of the venerable uncle Toby, armed with his pipe and foaming pitcher of ale, most boldly rendered by the artist, swung upon the summit of a post, the lower portion of which had sufiered considerably by the impa- tience of the equine customers who had broken and devoured its splinters, doubtless for the purpose of assist- ing digestion while waiting for their further allowance of fodder. A drowsy looking pony, profusely supplied with hair about the legs, but lamentably deficient of that hirsute luxury as regards the tail, was thus busily engaged as we approached the spot. Two or three teamsters were smoking, and gaily preparing their cattle in order to their departure, while the landlady — brilliant in cap trim- mings — was within the porch to bid them an adieu. The large black dog, who lay beside the horse trough. FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 17 casually glanced at us, as.if he would say, "If you are in search of a first-class place for comfort, you've hit it this time," and the thrash hanging in his wicker-work tene- ment, poured forth his evening song with true content and happiness. The latticed Mnndows of the sleeping rooms peeped out in various forms through the thickly clustered ivy in which the house seemed imbedded, and the smoke from the wood fire in the kitchen curled in fantastic designs, diffusing itself upwards amongst its na- tive element, the trees. If a man may be known by the company he keeps, the resources of his exchequer may, with quite as good a reason, philosophically, be fathomed, by the aspect of his exterior. It will be willingly conceded by the Avriter that the appearance of himself and friend was not such as to inspire the beholder with the conviction that we possessed a superfluity of the circulating medium at whose shrine all nature are, more or less, willing to bow. The customary peregrinators who may be said to " live on the road," are easily distinguished by the practised observer; but an occasional adventurer turns up, now and then, whose j^urpose or destination V\'ill harass the mind of the most critical. It was our fate to considerably puzzle the shrewdness of the worthy landlady as we passed into the inn, requesting to be accommodated for the night. CHAPTER IV. " And should she thus be stolen away from you. It would be much vexation to your age." - — Two Gentlemen of Verona. Act 3. Scene 1. A VERY old man was seated beside the fire-place in the taproom, watching a black saucepan formed like a funnel, and for the most part imbedded in a pile of burning wood. He raised his head at our approach, returning his gaze upon the saucepan, which speedily began to simmer. He was plainly but comfortably habited in a long blue coat, of a rather antique date, with capacious side-pockets, a mixture vest, grey breeches and stockings, with very thick shoes, perfectly innocent of blacking, and secured to the instep by thongs of leather. A shock-headed boy in velveteen, his shirt sleeves rolled up above the elbows, placed before him a long clay-pipe, and screw, or paper, of tobacco, and after emptying the warm porter into a pewter pot upon the table, withdrew to light up the premises for the evening. " Good evening, Jacob," was the first sound that broke the silence, after the departure of this rustic retainer. The salutation came from a fine looking young man of some twenty-six summers, dressed in a shooting costume, his gaiters swelling almost to bursting with their well developed legs. Cai-elessly throwing bis hat upon the table, he rang the bell, and ordered, of the buxom damsel who responded to the summons, a mug of ale and a crust FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 19 of bread and cheese, requesting as a personal favor, that the Hebe who was to present the same would, prior to its delivery, cast one of her sweetest glances into the meas- ure, in order to render it more palatable and delicious. Pending the arrival of this refreshment, the young man availed himself of the customary forlorn hope of the British subject, when in need of a matter for discussion, and assei'ted it as his firm conviction that the then state of the weather was of the precise kind to suit the agricul- tural interest in that section of the country, being the only instance on record, within the writer's personal expe- rience, wherein that numerous class have admitted the receipt of a satisfactory sample of the season's consign- ments. The order for his repast was speedily fulfilled, and while in course of liquidation, afforded a favorable opportunity to express homage to beauty, the recipient coyly rallying with a charge of female artifice replete with resignation and approval. The old man had finished his pipe, and now rose to depart ; taking his hat and cane, he bowed an adieu, and quitted the room. " A very fine looking old gentleman," I ventured to remark, as soon as he was fully out of hearing. " Yes, pretty much so," was the rejoinder. "Not ac- quainted with him, s'pose ? " "Oh, dear no! we are strangers in this part of the country, and are on our way to Hastings. For my part I should think, if I were to take the liberty of forming a judgment, that he is better adapted for a listener, than a dispenser of knowledge." " Aye, likely ! likely ! " responded the countryman. " He's lived here a good many years, old Jacob has ; every body likes him on account of his curious history." "Indeed! Has he endured hardships in defence of an 20 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. ungrateful country, and grown weary of presenting his claims to the notice of its insolent officials? " " Oh, no ! Would you like to hear his story ? It's not a very long one." "Much," I answered. " Well then, let us fill up, and start fair." Our mugs were replenished, and after a repetition of th-e similar con- duct before described, not in the least degree abridged or modified, he took a hearty draught, and composed himself to give us the STOEY OF JACOB MILLET. " The night was mighty cold, when the guard's horn was heard playing one of its favorite tunes, descending the hill from London. I can only just remember the time ; for I was not much above ten years old when Jacob Millet arrived here, as outside passenger on the Hope coach, dashing up to the inn in its usual jaunty style, with its expert coachman and musical guard. The Hope did all the best business ; the squire and all his folks round the neighborhood, when they didn't use their own teams, used to patronize it. Jacob was rather a dashing chaj:), even at that time ; but he seems to me to have grown old very rapidly, since, that is to say, within the last four or five years. Nothing particular was observed in his manner or appearance. At the time he alighted, he requested some one to show him to a room where he could take supper and pass the night. The doors of the cofiee-room w^ere open, and the customary meal smoking hot, awaiting the arrival of passengers — for the coach always supped here — but he refused to enter it; and, even preferred to wait till a fire was kindled in an upper chamber, sauntering up and down the road till the pre parations were completed. " The folks in the place who waited on him, couldn't FOOTLIGHT FXASHES. 21 help noticing that he was much troubled in his mind and manner. "When he retired to bed he was restless, and was distinctly heard pacing his room at short intervals throughout the night. " In the morning there was no change in the style of his conduct from the previous night, except asking a few questions about the time the Brighton coaches passed. It was nearly a week before anything happened worth noticing; but at the end of that time, he received a letter which seemed to excite him terribly. He was out con- stantly on the road, and eagerly scrutinizing the passen- gers while the coaches changed horses. Well, sir, just as it was getting dark on a Wednesday night, the mail lauie rattling up with those celebrated four greys — thorough blood they were too, and very much admired. Folks used to say it was a pleasure to sit behind such cattle — as a dashing, handsome-looking man alighted from the inside, Jacob started and made a desperate blow at him with a pretty stout cudgel he always carried. " The man reeled as soon as struck, and went in to defend himself; but Jacob was too quick for him, and kept fol- lowing him up towards the coach-door, for which he tried to make. Loud and piercing shrieks- were heard from a female, who was endeavoring to assist the beaten man into the vehicle. Scarcely a word was uttered during the time, except in broken sentences, such as villain ! de- ceiver! false friend! and the like. The beaten man scrambled with difficulty into the coach, and after the ostlers had got the restive cattle a little quieted, the coachman let 'em have their heads, and away they started. You may be sure the neighborhood was terribly agitated ; all manner of rumors were afloat as to the cause of the quarrel, and the man who used to do all the news at that time, for the Brighton paper, gave a very animated description of the whole affair, as from an eye-witness, 22 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. how Jacob had charged the man, who was represented as holding a very fine oiSce under government, with running away with his wife, and forging his name for some large amounts; how the lady, whose personal appearance was fully described, had sprung from the coach and thrown herself between them, calling for help ; how she fainted, and was carried into the inn, and was brought to her senses by the worthy landlady and her charming daugh- ter ; how it took the coachman, guard, and four stablemen to prevent Jacob inflicting more punishment upon the destroyer of his domestic peace, who lay covered with blood in the middle of the high road, from whence he was removed with difficulty to the coach, where the lady was afterwards placed upon two feather pillows ; that Jacob was with great difficulty dissuaded from mounting a swift horse and following in pursuit. It all ended with a perfect history of the private aff*airs of all the parties frora their youth, with several very amusing incidents which befel the lady while at a fashionable school in the south of France ; the amount of dower her husband received with her, the name of the firm where he kept his banking account, and every particular thing that was like to inter- est the reader, which everybody at a distance fully believed, ^vhile it was well known here that on the night of the occurrence, the writer of it had been taken home by one of the waiters in the Blue Lion, very much intoxi- cated, after enjoying the good cheer of the annual feast of the churchwardens, who met to devise means and raise funds for the benefit of the poor during the following winter. " In a few days Jacob went to London, and remained for about two months ; when he returned, he Avas so dejected and unhappy, that his strength gave way, and was followed by a violent fit of illness, which confined him to his bed for a long time. In his wanderings he uttered charges of great ingratitude against some one that had basely FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. ^6 wronged him ; the landlady, who watched him with most unceasing care, bore with his whims, and fancies, to such an extent, that he couldn't help confiding to her one evening, the story of his grief "Then he told her how he had lost his wife many years ago, leaving him with an only child — a daughter — how much he doated on her ; how he had expended large sums of money on her education ; how she had, in the bloom of youth, listened to the addresses of one who was a roue, and unworthy of her. How she had eloped with him ; how they were on their way to London, when he surprised them ; how, when he had discovered the cheat the seducer had played upon her, she had died while giving birth to a child, leaving him solitary and alone in the world. He admitted that he had never met with so much disinter- ested friendship as he did here at the hands of the land- lady, and he would feel happier to locate himself near such kind and considerate people for the rest of his days. " He took a cottage, (the one just over the hill,) where he beguiled his time, attended by a single servant, dig- ging and planting in his little garden, or playing on the violincello, on which instrument he is a very skillful per- former. He strictly enjoined the landlady, Avhen he found, by the questions she would occasionally put to him, that he had, in a moment of thoughtlessness been betrayed into a recital of his story, that she must con- sider it in the light of a secret, and never reveal it to any one. It oozed out, however, somehow, ' women are not good hands at keeping a secret, you know, sir.' And here old Jacob comes every evening to take his warm ale, and pipe of tobacco, and seems to have little spirit for any other pastime, save his j^assion for music. " Taking his hat, he wished us a good night, pausing at the door with a request that, if we should see Jacob again, we wouldn't mention that he had dropped a hint about the matter, because, ' It is a secret you know.' " CHAPTER V. " For beauty is a witch, Against whose charms faith melteth into blood." — Much Ado. Act 2. Scene 1. THE BEAUTY OF THE ESTN". Shall I ever forget the snowy whiteness of ray bed, and its appurtenances ? Much less shall I ever forget the radiant beauty of the landlord's daughter, who prepared, with her own fair hands, a delicious supper of ham and eggs in the private sanctum behind the bar, and shall I ever forget how much I was struck with this maiden, her rosy lips, and the transparent texture of her skin, glowing with health such as the pure country air only can impart to those Avho pass their time continually inhaling its invigorating perfume ? The recollection haunts me still. I remember I would have offered to marry her on the spot, if my exchequer could have warranted me in indulg- ing in such an expensive luxury ! What a night I passed ! Sleep was out of the question ; but when I did get into a state of unconsciousness, I had an insane notion of stealing cautiously to where her aged father slumbered, depriving him of his brief existence, cai'rying off his charming daughter to some remote Indian settlement, where to pass the honey-moon on buffalo humps, with bear-steaks for Sundays, would have been the acme of human felicity. At length I fell into a profound, unmistakable sleep, and believing I had carried my design into execution, and while in the act of masticating my first meal of buffalo, the war cry of justice came howling down upon me, tear- FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 25 ing nie with a fiendish triumph from the arms of ray kicly love, and consigning me without remorse to the chilling embrace of the county gaol, on a charge of mur- der and abduction, I felt certain I had heard the tramj) of the horses that were to convey me to a boat that should return the idol of my soul to the paternal roof, and myself to the less pleasing dwelling above mentioned ; and I breathed ven- geance on the cruel heads of those who could, in spite of entreaties, remorselessly tear asunder such fond, such doting natures, and I uttered imprecations of a most un- complimentary character against the world in general, and ray pursuers in particular. Nay, I even, in the excess of my rage and indignation, seized a tomahawk and felled the most athletic among them to the earth, planting my foot upon his prostrate form with the satisfaction of a conqueror against one of an adverse tribe, and would have devoured him on the spot, if my early taste for luxuries had not rendered such savory nourishment unpalatable. This was ray frame of mind as morning dawned. It may, therefore be readily understood my feelings were not in a very quiescent condition, as I believed I had duly qualified myself for an illustration of capital punish- ment, Avhen I was suddenly aroused by ray companion to the fact that he regarded me as a public nuisance, and found it impossible to sleep in the same room with one who didn't enjoy his re^^ose like a decent Christian. Before I had time to dispute or question this conclusion, we were summoned to breakfast. Our toilet was not very extravagant. It was soon completed, and while waiting to be apprized that the morning meal was on the table, I sauntered to the back of the inn, and there leaned, in what I conceived to be a very graceful attitude, against the pump, gazing most 2 26 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. earnestly at the windows of the second story, the top one in this particular instance, not from any known conviction that ray soul's idol occupied one of those apartments, but from an intuitive belief I have always entertained that all landlords' pretty daughters sleep in the back parts of inns — probably placed there by a dispensation of Providence, to be ready for an elopement without being observed by the private watchman or legally qualified guardian of the public peace. I had not been long in contemplation when my ears were assailed with the following colloquy : ■ « Betty ! " « Yes, Miss." "Is them two London chaps up yet ? " "Yes, Miss : I seed one on 'em in the coffee-room just now." I was all attention. She m' as surely going to make a confidant of the domestic, and confess the impression that I had made ujjon her susceptible nature, when she pro- ceeded: "I hope they ain't stole nothing, and runned away with it. It's a j^ity somebody don't send 'em up to town, to their friends ; for I do think they are respectable chaps — but the one in the drab coat, is the biggest fool 1 ever did see. Last night I gave 'em both some supper, 'cause they looked so very wretched, and all the time that chap was eating it, he was looking at me in the spoonest way you ever did see. I was watching him through the looking-glass over the fire-place. I thought I should have died with laughing at the fool! Men must be scarce indeed, for me to flmcy such a scarecrow sort of chap as that." My self-esteem sank a long way below zero immedi- ately' upon hearing this distressing admission, and as ] shrank away from the spot, felt an inward conviction FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 27 that I might then and there be purchased like goods out of season, at an alarming sacrifice ! I told this tale after- wards, but did my travelling-companion the honor of making him the hero of the story. " THE COUNTRY MAKAGEE." AVe soon took a hasty farewell, and proceeded on our journey. By dint of some exertion, we reached the loca- tion we proposed to astonish, at about five o'clock in the afternoon, and immediately sought the managei*. The handmaiden who admitted us to a small, but particularly neat looking cottage, inflicted another wound upon our feelings, by announcing us as " two boys," as wanted to see the manager. We were ushered into the presence of "the last glimmer of the great Kemble and Siddonian era," as he used to designate himself, and shall not be going far out of the course of my narrative, if I give the reader some account of his appearance and habits. In person he was large, in appearance benevolent. In height he had as much as most men can boast of, while in rotundity he j)ossessed more than actors with tragic proclivities care to be encumbered with. Not to be iingenerous, he was what is usually designated as a fat, podgy man. In fact, his circumference had increased so much within the last few years, that he found himself at times subjected to impertinent remarks from some of the choice spirits among the audience who couldn't bear with his increasing bulk in the heroes of the Shaksperian drama, and who would insinuate as much from the jjit of the theatre, when he was endeavoring to illustrate the last moments of the poet's choicest creations. His face was ruddy, almost amounting to a purj^le hue ; even in its quiescent state, when imder the influence of artistic inspiration, it assumed a cerulean intensity posi- tively distresshig to witness. 28 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. His costume was airy, and worn with a negligence which ever distinguishes great master minds from the common every day mortals, being a mixture of the dramatic with the social, so happily blended that the combination was rather agreeable than otherwise. His feet were encased in slippers of purple velvet, such as the monarchs of tragedy are wont to indulge in. His panta- loons were of a pepper and salt color, with a larger pro- portion of the latter seasoning than the former. The buttons, or fastenings with which they were moored to his waist, had long ago burst from their anchorage, and the canvas that had originally aided in their securitj^, now hung from their aj)ertures with a forlorn aspect of untidiness and neglect. His linen might have impressed the casual observer with the conviction that a heavy tax had been most remorselessly and suddenly placed upon soap, whereby his acquaintanceship with that necessary article of domestic consumption had been, in consequence of his very limited exchequer, for a length of time sus- pended. Such was the manager, as he sat in a large easy chair, indulging in the luxury of a pipe of huge dimensions, with mountings of silver, a plate of which precious metal acquainted the curious in such matters, that the same had been pi'esented on the interesting occasion of his benefit, and performance of " Octavian," by a few admirers, in testimony of his great worth as a man, and his unap- proachable ability as an artist. His peculiarity was that he had a veneration for ancient tragedy, which nothing could subdue. I have seen him enact " Cato," in tbe play of that name, to only a few shillings, with a vigor quite astonishing! But to our interview. The manager admitted, and he did so with great regret, that his business was not at that time profita- ble — for the season was antagonistic to the best interests FOOTLIGHT PLASHES. 29 of the drama. The parliament were in session in London, and consequently many of his wealthy patrons, some of whose names you will find inscribed here, said he, pushing the pipe towards us, were attending to their duties as guardians of the rights of their constituents; and he was further grieved to admit, as a result thereof, that his income did not at present keep pace with his outlay ; therefore, it behoved all lovers of the true and classic drama, among whom he was proud to name himself, to put their shoulders to the wheel, in order to propel the dramatic vehicle into the haven of safety. He was exceedingly fond of flattery as regarded his position as a manager and actor, and so proud of being known as the former, that he invariably caused to be printed in significant type, at the head of each play-bill, "Sole proprietor, Mr. ," We speedily came to business. He did want artists, he said, with a strong emphasis on the last word ; inquired what we could do, where we had come from, and what salary we expected to receive. We assured him that we were in possession of the usual modicum of talent neces- sary for the most faithful delineation of any and every species of character, within the range of the ancient, or modern drama, which is generally the impression enter- tained by novices, in a profession of which they are totally ignorant; that we were from London — had been at Brighton — but didn't care much about effectinsr an en- gagement there, had preferred seeing him, knowing the interest he took in the proper cultivation of his art, and would be happy to place ourselves at his disposal, with a view to progressive excellence, which we were satisfied could no where be so well and efficiently attained as at his establishment, and under his personal supervision. This tickled him amazingly ; he laid down his pipe and gave a cough that had a tone of satisfaction about it. As 30 rOOTLIGHT FLASHES. to emolument, we left that entirely to him, and would readily be guided by his better and more mature judg- ment, and place ourselves at once at his disjiosal. The bargain was speedily completed : we were to receive fifteen shillings sterling per week each, and commence operations at once, if we thought, after partaking of a little refreshment, we could manage to play that evening, we would extricate him from a most embarrassing dilem- ma. Of course we could ! Could I play " old Nerval," in " Douglas ?" and " Sir Jacob Jollop," in the "Mayor of Garrat?"and could my companion go on for "Lord Kandolph ? " My vanity felt a sudden and a chilling check when I heard the proposition ! " Young Norval," I had long believed I could distance all competitors in, but the parent of that young gentleman, with my youthful ardor and juvenile bearing, was a blow I was not prepared for. As for the part in the farce, the very idea made me feel as if I had swallowed a dose of his namesake. How- ever, I was compelled to yield, and after partaking of the proposed refreshments, we started to find some economic dwelling place, with a promise to be prepared for action in the evening. The appearance of the theatre was somewhat startling, being extremely primitive, both in design and decoration. Four walls, or sides, there were to be sui-e ; but in the auditorium, one end seemed to have had a piece uncere- moniously lopped off in such an ungraceful manner that it entirely destroyed its identification for any specific purpose. It was spacious enough to accommodate a very considerable number of persons ; but either the merit of the performances were too aesthetic for the matter of fact inhabitants of the district, or they entertained an enmity towards our exertions, and remained away in consequence. Certain it is, its capacity for large numbers was never sorely tested by the generous multitude. FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 31 I liad, prior to the rising of the curtain, on this, our opening niglit, signified to the manager a distaste that I should be called upon to represent acharacter very much below the standard of histrionic consequence in which I felt assured nature had destined, me to occupy amongst the great names of dramatic history; but was somewhat appeased by the knowledge that he, the manager, had once reduced himself to a secondary position, and enacted " Macdufi;" to Edmund Kean's " Macbeth," who was at the time playing an engagement atone of his city houses, as he called theatres in towns of any magnitude, and this too in a locality where he was well known and appreciat- ed as the only living " Thane of Cawdor," that had re- ceived the unqualified, plaudits of an audience, distin- guished for its poetic and literary attainments; in proof whereof the editor of the Snifflebury Chronicle^ a writer with a mind finely tempered to the impressions of the most delicate manipulations of art, had considered the matter of such vital importance, that he devoted an en- tire column of his paper to an analysis of the two inter- pretations of the character, approving Mr. Kean's rendi- tion in many places ; but for subtlety of purpose, with a scholarly delineation of the idiosyncrasies of the part, yielded the palm to the worthy manager, than whom no man was socially and professionally more respected. We got along pretty well with the performance, con- sidering that we didn't know the words of the author, but substituted something of our own when we were at fault. The dressing-room was in the cellar nnder the dramatic temple, the which had in its early history been used as a malt-house, and. was still tenanted by some of .its original settlers, " the rats," who must have keenly felt the altered destinies of the establishment. The convenience for the operations of the toilet were not of a very extensive or costly description ; and as no 32 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. member of the company boasted the possession of a mirror, we painted our faces over a bucket of clear water. It would be impossible to recount a tithe of the troubles and difficulties that the tyro in the dramatic art had to i^ass through in those days, and it might appear strange how young men of tolerable education, and friends willing to assist them, as many of us had, should encoun- ter such scenes ; but such is the infatuation, or call it what you will, of the lovers of the drama, that any one of us would have jjassed through any description of mis- ery, rather than our friends should awake to the convic- tion that we were not on the high road to histrionic ex- cellence. One of our company gave us the following anecdote that had occurred in his presence ; and as it will alFord a good illustration of the general style of theatres of that class, it will serve as a fair samjile. " Chance threw me," said he, " in the way of L , the celebrated strolling manager, who was about opening at Walton in Surrey. He i)roposed to us a sharing scheme, with the stipulation of two shares for himself as manager. This wc agreed to, and on the following day we started for this charming village, and the hills over which we trudged echoed again with the speeches wo expected would electrify the good people of Walton. " The appearance of the theatre rather damped our ar- dor. It was nearly outside the town, in a very tumble- downish kind of a barn, in the yard of the Plough inn. The way to the stage door was through a cow-yard, and the door itself was a hole barely three feet square, cut on purpose, which led to a trap-door that brought you at once on the upj^er corner R. H. of the stage. " The stage itself was about eighteen feet wide, eleven feet long, and eight feet high. The proscenium of col- ored paper took off five feet on each side, so that the FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 33 actual stage was only about eight feet wide. The audi- ence part was very dilapidated, but very extensive, tlironged with a number of wide seats, and parted off into pit and gallery by a long pole. The boxes were di- vided from the pit by a long strip of canvas, ornamented by numerous harps, Apollos, and other tasteful designs, il- lustrative of the muses. The foot-lights consisted of ten dazzling halos of tallow candles, eight to the pound. The scenes were painted on tick, (I mean the materials for coloring etc. were obtained on credit,) and they con- sisted of a splendid modern chamber, excessively pink in tone ; on the reverse, a kitchen equally ingenious in color and' design, and a representation of a wood in a frantic state of exuberant foliage, laid on with no sparing or niggardly hand upon the back wall. The wings were movable, and corresponded with the proscenium ; flies or borders we had none, so there was little chance of the roof taking fire from the carelessness of scene-shifters. It was light and airy in consequence of several tiles being missing. The orchestra consisted of a blind fiddler, a trumpet, and a drum. " After working for about a week, the theatre was com- pleted, the actors perfect, and the town well billed. The opening play was Richard the Third ; the night arrived, and the house was full to overflowing. " The play proceeded quite satisfactorily till the fight, in the fifth act, between Richard and Richmond. In con- sequence of the very contracted space, it was absolutely necessary to pursue the combat from the top to the bot- tom of the stage, and while Richard was driving Rich- mond up with a splendid show of head blows, he (Rich- mond) suddenly vanished from the sight of Richard, and the audience. " In vain did the crook-backed tyrant call for Richmond to come on, if it was only to kill him. No! Richmond 2* 34 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. was too much disconcerted by his sudden mishap, and Richard determined not to be cut out of his die, cast himself on his own sword, spoke his speech and expired, " The manager of whom I speak, and whose description is here attempted, was a man of the most liberal prin- ciples, with an affection for his company that amounted almost to parental solicitude. He was extremely suscepti- ble to grief, therefore was often the victim of a distress- ing recital, related for no other pur2:)0se than to act iipon his sympathetic natui'e. Pie was afflicted with periodical attacks of gout, and occasionally, when recovering from that distressing malady, would imbibe a little too much stimulant ; then it was no difficult matter to deluge him with tears with a well-timed and heart-rending story. He was seated one evening in a portion of the build mg facetiously termed the 'green room' just recovering from one of his attacks of gout, and had evidently in- dulged in alcoholic fluid during the day. The play in course of representation was the ' Stranger,' at which he was shedding tears most copiously; in fact he was what might not inaptly be termed, 'crying drunk.' ' Good heavens,' said I ' Mr. can anything have hap- pened?' 'No,' said he, wishing to disguise his real con- dition, 'but I am alM^ays thus affected whenever that pathetic piece, the " Stranger," is performed.' ' Yes,' said I, ' but it surely cannot distress you so much when you are not witnessing the representation.' ' What docs that mat- ter,' returned he bursting out into a fresh flood of tears. ' Can't I conceive what is going forwai'd ? ' " CHAPTER VL " I am Sir Oracle, and when I ope my mouth let no dog bark." — Merchant of Venice. Act 1. Scene 1. The aspirant for dramatic fame will peruse with wonder, not unmixed with incredulity, the incidents re- lated in the previous chapters, of the primitiveness of the places set apart for the exposition of the drama in Eng- Land. There is scarcely a town of any pretensions in Amei'ica, that is not well provided with a properly appointed hall, or lecture room, with ample focility for some kind of dramatic performance. The peculiarities of some of the members of their several companies will appear in due course in these pages. The successive changes consequent on the attempt to ascend the several rounds of the ladder of fame in every profession, particularly those of an intellectual character, bear such a similarity to each other, that it would be a useless task to enumerate them at every step upward toward the goal of excellence ! Therefore the author of these pages may be pardoned if he abstain from boring the reader with every little incident of his career, except to touch upon those which present features of a nature peculiar, or in any way unusual. It is, however, needless to say, that the life of an actor presents a very dissimilar aspect from the impression entertained of it by the public at large. To the auditor, and casual ol>server, it is an avocation of the most alluring kind, indeed some minds cannot resist the temptation of believin g that the natures 36 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. of actors and actresses assimilate themselves to the peculiar temperament of the parts they represent. One particular instance in support of this fact was during his masterly performance of Luke, in " Riches " by Edmund Kean. A lady of great wealth, who had regularly attended all that tine actor's representations, became so appalled by the hideousness of the picture, that she immediately took a distaste for the man, and had a codicil inserted in her will rescinding a handsome legacy she had bequeathed him as some acknowledgment of the pleasure she had derived from his previous unap- proachable efforts. Many of the drama's pati'ons are fully persuaded in their our minds that the hero and heroine of the play have, or entertain some affinity of the elements towards each other they so graphically express in their j^rofes- sional vocation. It is needless to say this is a great mis- take ; indeed, I have met with several cases where the sexes have most happily commingled professionally their adoration for each other; but, who never exchanged the salutation of a vocal compliment, from a settled antipathy they could not suppress. True, there are instances where marriages, and along life of happiness, have resulted from such an association, but they are certainly not more frequent than might arise from the mixing of the sexes in any other close proximity of business necessity. THE ORACLE OF THE VILLAGE. Every town, village, or hamlet, however limited its population, can proudly boast of the possession of some master spirits in matters of art and politics, the former most particularly, who exercise an influence on those who surround them at their social gatherings. They are the oracles who proclaim to the little world in which they move, their plan for the amendment of the constitution FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 37 uncler which they enjoy their proud position in the scale of civilized nations. Who regulate the quality and number of ounces avoirdupois of solid food necessary, upon scientific principles, for sustaining the pauper popu- lation in such a condition as will inevitably compel them, in order to satisfy the cravings of exhausted nature, to pause ere they accejDt the munificence of parish accom- modation ! They not unfrequently enjoy the proud distinction of having the pages of the Meagreville Gazette placed entire- ly at their disposal in all matters of public interest, assign causes for the conduct of ofiicials for whose positions they have been unsuccessful candidates; and readily j^lay the jackal to assuage the suiFerings of some wounded lion who has been drawn into a conflict with public opinion, entirely through their, own instrumentality. It is not to be expected that a dramatic company who may pay brief visits to one or other of these j^laces, can easily escape being taken under the special care of one of these ogres, whenever opportunity presents itself. It was my fortune to meet with a capital specimen, at a town of small significance in the county of Lancashire. He Avas a good type of the class who desire to regulate the internal business of the theatre according to his own infallible dicta. He was a man of commanding presence, a brewer by trade, and had once seen Mrs. Siddons, (in the street.) The party consisted of the brewer above named, the postmaster of the town, the tailor, who also added the sta- tionery and millinery business, (the two latter presided over by his wife,) the landlord of the Goose and Gridiron, a maltster of plethoric pocket and person, a commercial traveller, attached to a London glass firm, who had seen something of the drama, and a sallow-faced man who act- ed as parish clerk of the church, and who was chiefly re- 38 „FOOTLIGET PLASHES. markablft for extreme baldness, and a capacity for hot drinks. The company had not been long assembled before the Oracle was intruded upon in the middle of a learned dis- quisition on a past political crisis, by the addition of the writer and the gentleman who assumed the position of principal tragedian to the theatre. Our presence threw a sudden gloom upon the scene, but the Oracle speedily ral- lied, and after asking a common-place question or two rela- tive to the nature of the patronage bestowed upon our ef- forts by the public of the town and neighborhood, pro- posed as a personal obligation, that our friend should fa- vor the company with an exhibition of his vocal powers. The delineator of the poet's choicest effusions looked with a scornful aspect at the mention of such a profanation, and gave a stern, and positive refusal. In this case the tragedian was never addicted to vocalization, though it is not an uncommon case to find actors of the serious drama the most jovial and entertaining in social gatherings. The tailor came to the rescue, and expressed the pleas- ure he had derived from being present at our performance of « Venice Preserved " the previous evening. He also attempted an analysis of the representation of " King Lear " he had once seen in London ; though he couldn't tax his memory with the name of the theatre in which the same was acted, but he particularly remembered it from the desperate conflict in the very last scene between the King and a man in armor who conquered his majesty, and who "didn't make his ajipearance till the thing was nearly all over ; he also considered the scene very good where the King fancies he saw the dao^o-ers hano-ino- in the air, with which he had previously killed a king whose throne he wanted to occupy, and was sadly troubled with a guilty conscience, and a wicked woman for a wife. Proving incontestibly that the name of the building in FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. • 39 which he beheld this multiplicity of events transj^ire, and the incidents connected therewith, was not very clearly registered upon the tablets of a memory distinguished for its reliability. " Sir," said the Oracle, " the drama is a great moral engine for the advancement of the human species. There are some pretty keen judges of good playing here, sir, I assure you. Indifferent acting may do for London, Liver- pool, or Manchester, but I can tell you there is a fine, pure taste for the proper thing in this town." " Aye," chimed in the parish clerk, he believed there was, when they really gave 'em anything good, not that he had ever seen much of tragedy himself; but he always made one of the Rev. Mr. Sniffin's party, and took charge of two of the children, when the singers with their faces blacked came along ; or the learned dogs ; and a pig that could spell out the name of any of the company, which he thought was very clever, and seemed to afford a great deal of satisfaction. The landlord considered the downfall of the drama was to be .attributed to the vanity of actors, who thought too much of what they called position. Now, for his part, he couldn't see what difierence it could make in the quality of the parts they played ; that's what he had always been given to understand by what he had read in the pajoers, some of which came out pretty strong upon the subject. One case he recollected, a year or two ago, wherein a manager had refused to pay the salary of a member of his company because he declined to appear in a style of character for which he was not engaged. The Oracle here broke in with — " Yes, yes, it is a notorious fact, and I explained it fully in an essay I did some three or four years since, for the Monthly Gooseberryhush, a very ably edited work on fashion and the arts. I liad hoped to have broken through 40 POOTLIGHT FLASHES. the absurdity, for the article was very elaborate, and em- braced all the points of the subject thoroughly, and, I be- lieve, was extensively read, but it's a deeply rooted evil, sir, and will take a long time to eradicate." " Yes, sir," said the tragedian, who had been writhing for some minutes, " it has existed for some time — if we believe the press, or take their definition of a matter which doesn't, to my thinking, exactly concern them, — ever since the time of Garrick, who refused to play Hot- spur more than once, because he found Quin's Falstaff eclipsed him. I have been nearly twenty years, sir, in the profession, and remember very few instances wherein I have not been dealt unjustly by, by the manager. I once gave great offence, because I declined to appear as Plarlequin in a j^antomime, merely to gratify his desire to have my name in the bill of performance ; the press of course took it uj), and my private business soon became a matter of public censure. Very few can realize the dis- crimination necessary to a profitable position in the pro- fession. The world is too ready to condemn an actor who objects to appear in characters which he may con- sider unfitted for his style or temperament, on the plea that they have a right to demand that the plays present- ed should be cast in the strongest possible manner, irre- spective of the claims of the artist to his, or her, definite position, in obedience to the terms of their agreement. I am satisfied that there are very few of our professional brethren who would not be ready, and willing, to cheer- fully assist in the representation of parts out of their proper calibre, if their pecuniary position would not be affected thereby ; but Avhen it is notorious, that the pay- ing portion of the j^ublic, with very few exceptions, re- gard those who enact the pi'ominent characters as the most talented of the comj^any, it must be obvious that a system such as this, if persevered in, would soon reduce FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 41 the market value of the individual, who would thus have to suffer for tlie perpetuation of a principle in which the manager himself is never ambitious to become a shining example. " There are rules and forms of government in all posi- tions of life. "We understand those appertaining to our craft as well as the physician, the lawyer, or the printer ; and surely no one would expect an editor, who was re- tained in an establishment for writing leaders, to distribute copies of the paper to the several subscribers. Yet this is not more unreasonable than some of the requests fre- quently made in reference to us ; nay more, we are even sometimes elevated to the dignity of a partnership when a sacrifice is to be made in times of distress. The actors are expected and compelled, — or quit the scene of their occupation, which they are seldom able from lack of funds to do, — to make a reduction in their incomes in order to shield the manager- from loss; but the business unity never extends to a moiety of the profits in times of com- mercial prosperity, or even the liquidation of a previous defalcation. This, I admit, is not always the ease where managers have been, or are themselves, members of the profession, but with those who embark in the sale of the dratna, as they would a branch of trade, for the sole pur- pose of acquiring means ; their ignorance and selfishness is akin to their love of gain. Why, sir, I once knew a man who was connected with a profitable theatre in the metropolis of the country, who positively refused to ac- cept a play tendered hira, assigning as his reason, that he didn't like it, it was too much like Shakspeare." The traveller here expressed his belief that our friend had defined his position in a thoroughly business-like manner; and positively refused to permit the subject to be further discussed till he had done himself the pleasure of contributing towards the hilariousness of the entertain- 42 POOTLIGHT FLASHES. ment by becoming responsible for a reioetition of bum- pers to the entire party. A proposition in which the landlord, with that alacrity for which his class are dis- tinguished when there is a goodly profit to be acquired by the operation, readily concurred, by conforming to the request with an amount of expedition extremely praise- worthy for a person of his corporeal capacity. " There is a point that has always puzzled me," con- tinued the traveller, when the company had expressed their acknowledgments to the donor of the feast, " I have frequently met with most flattering notices of per- sons of whose superior ability I had never heard : and when I have seen them could never discover a scintilla- tion of the merit the gentlemen of the press had led me to expect. Now, if the authors of these puffs, for they are nothing less, either have not the knowledge of the drama necessary to write a sound, and scholarly article upon the subject; or having it, do not exercise it, why will they always assume a paramount dictatorship over the actor who has made his profession a matter of busi- ness and study for years ? " "I think I can enlighten you, sir, a little upon that subject," said the tragedian, just as the Oracle was en- deavoring to plunge into an explanation. "Newspapers have frequently a job printing office at- tached to their business, and many persons who think it desirable to try their fortunes as features, or stars, as they are usually termed, are very liberal in their patron- age ; upon the principle that it is money profitably ex- pended, as they M'ill be sure to get lengthy notices in the paper, which they can dispatch to the next town or city, prior to their appearance there. They will even carry their system to such an extent that I, myself, knew an instance where a conscientious reviewer, who knew more FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 43 than the ordinary class of writers, i^ennecl two, or three severe articles on the style of a performance he consid- ered not entitled to approval ; when he was met by a request in writing from the injured party to amend his style of criticism, as they had claims upon the establish- ment for long notices of the most eulogistic character. Upon declining to have his department supervised either by right or intimidation, he was met by the proprietor of the paper, who readily admitted all he had stated in reference to the worthlessness of the performances, that he could speak from j)ersonal experience, for he had once sat out a representation, with no desire to repeat the in- fliction ; ' but we receive a large amount per annum for printing their bills and posters, it is a good advertisement for us apart from the profit we derive, because it exhibits our work in distant cities and places where it would never otherwise be seen ; therefore all we can do is to push their interest in every way, regardless of truth.' The gentleman was obliged to retire from the department which treated upon theatricals, rather than appear to in- dite what he knew to be false." The company all expressed their surprise at this system of conducting business ; and the tragedian becoming, under the influence of argument, more and more sensi- tive to the cruel acts of tyranny and injustice levelled at his race, cited the incident of Kean's distress at some articles in a London paper denunciatory of his acti;ig, to Mrs. Garrick, who advised him to spare himself the pain of any annoyance, and for the future to do as David did, i. e. " write the notices himself." " And she was right, gentlemen ! it is the only way to have them done properly, take my word for it." We parted with the Oracle, whose massive mind has doubtless long ere this bequeathed to an admiring pub- 44 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. lie his views of the base ingratitude of two members of a profession he had striven, (with a devotion ahnost amounting to impiety) to elevate in the scale of art and social usefulness, but whose distaste for literary guar- dianship have placed them beyond the conviction of well- tried exjjerience and intellectual brotherhood. CHAPTER VII. " And let those tbat play your clowns speak no more than is set down for them." — Hamlet. Act 3. Scene 2. Stokies innumerable are told of serious dilemmas into which comic actors are, from lack of numbei'S, in small companies, occasionally thrust ; but we know of nothing more ludicrous than the following. The affair happened some time prior to the date of ray acquaintance with its hero, but among all the extraordinary beings it has been my lot to encounter in all my Thespian wander- ings, none certainly exceeded Berry, " facetious Tom Berry." Berry was one of those light-hearted originals that oc- casionally cross our path during our journey through this w*orld of pleasures and disappointments — well ed- ucated, but of an unsettled disposition. He embraced the profession of the stage very early in life. His first attempts were marked with tolerable success ; but find- ing practice necessary, he was very properly advised by a theatrical friend to j^lace his foot upon the lowest round of the ladder. He took his friend's advice, and after much trouble accepted an engagement at the Haymarket Theatre, London, then under the management of Morris, for general business. He remained there six seasons, when change of man- agement threw him on his own resources. This was in the season of 1836. Barnet of the Oxford circuit was in London engaging a company, and by the intercession of 46 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. some friends Berry was enrolled in his corps, to make himself useful in any j^arts he might be called upon to play. It so happened that Hamlet was the piece fixed upon for the opening night, the part of the Priest by fa- cetious Tom Berry. It was a great misfortune that our friend never could get over the difficulties of blank verse, and further, a much greater misfortune that he should, when he had any to speak, invariably take a trifle too much alcoholic stimulant, with a view to keep up his courage for the event. He was fully conscious of this defect, and solicited a member of the company to give him the words from the side scenes. On his first apisearance in the funeral throng, a slight un- easiness of gait in walking, and a swaying of the body on taking his position at the grave of the drowned Ophe- lia, could be easily perceived, though this might have pass- ed as an artist-like delineation of the infirmities of age. His features, naturally extremely comic, were on this oc- casion, " screwed to the sticking place " of solemnity, al- though the scalp designating the "shaven monk" placed a little awry, and suffering a straggling lock to escaj^e, blended with the vermilion intended to color the cheek, being by some accident communicated to the extreme tip of the nose, slightly deteriorated from that expression. He turned his head, and looked imploringly at the side from whence he expected to be supj)lied with the woi'ds, while his friend, book in hand, keeping faithful to his promise, had mixed in among the group surrounding the grave. " Her obsequies have been so far enlarged as we have warrant," whisi:)ered the prompter, close to his ear. " Her obsequies are large enough, I warrant," com- menced the Priest. Again the text was poured into his ear in continuation. " Her death was doubtful." FOOTLIGUT FLASHES. 47 " 'Tis doubtful if she's dead," said Tom, now wishing to cut the matter as short as possible. The prompter proceeded with — " She should in ground unsanctified have lain till the last trump — " " She should not trump in sanctified ground," replied the hero. " Here she is allowed her maiden struments," shortly, and rather indistinctly continued the prompter, who was now getting somewhat angry at the evident hopelessness of his task. " Here she is allowed her pails and stew-pans," re- sponded poor Berry, who had caught something like the sound, but not the sense of the last phrase. This was too much. Shouts of laughter mingled with hisses, now so overcame our unfortunate hero, that he dropped his book. " Take him off," was shouted on all sides, but there was no necessity for that, for in stooping to recover the said book, he suddenly disappeared as if by magic, from the sight of his indignant patrons, having by the effort precipitated himself head foi'emost into the grave of the dead Ophelia. The curtain fell on the scene, and the reader may rest assured it was the last appearance on the Ryde boards of "facetious Tom Berry." Whether I was one of fortune's favorites I know not ; but I do know that I worked " most vigorously " to ad- vance my professional usefulness, and soon rose to some amount of jDrominence. I had to play anything and everything. As a proof of this, I may instance that while attached to the Kent circuit, I played in one eve- ning the characters of Banquo, and Hecate in Macbeth, and sang all the music. In Hamlet, I had to do duty for Polouius, the Ghost, Osric, and the first Grave Dig- ger. 48 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. Managerial Wives. I have often asked myself the question, why managers, dramatically, have wives ! Domestically, I am willing to admit they are as much entitled to that coveted luxury as the members of any other profession or calling, but in a business point of view they are, save in very rare excep- tions, institutions of a grave, and serious import. I adore the sex in general, and our wife in particular. But if ever, for some unatoned crime committed in my boyish frivolity, I should be consigned to that pandemo- nium of dramatic life, the "managerial throne," and the partner of my bosom exhibited the slightest i)roi)inquity for the buskin, I should, without the smallest compunc- tion of conscience, retain the most skillful in legal mani- pulations, with the benign determination of dissolving the nuj^tial tie. I say this unhesitatingly, because I am, and ever have been, opjDOsed to all feuds, whether domestic, dramatic or editorial, and as one, or all these would be the inevi- table consequence of my wife's embracing the stage, I would, as I desire to exist in the most perfect amity with all mankind, much prefer that such an ebullition of aifection should be monopolized by myself without let or hindrance of any kind whatsoever. These reflections have forced themselves most uncere- moniously upon my cogitations, as I look back to the drudgery of my novitiate when I formed one of a com- pany in the west of England, the manager of whom had a wife, whose chief diversion seemed to bo to convince her husband of the great sacrifices she had made when, in an outburst of virginly magnanimity, she bestowed up- on him the honor of her hand. Such is, however, the extreme selfishness of human nature, that the fortunate possessor of the treasure evidently took a different esti- mate of its value. FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 49 The field of action in whicli this lady distinguished herself, prior to her entrance into marital array, was a seminary for the instruction of young jjersons in all the polite accomplishments indispensable for their advent into the social circle ; and it was during her espionage of the said charges at the theatre of the locality in which they studied, that her heart was made captive by its present owner, while he was engaged in the representation of Romeo. The most full-blown amongst the young la- dies was, on retiring on that eventful night, admitted into her confidence and sworn to secrecy, and in little less than three months had the honor of assisting at a surreptitious marriage ceremony, in addition to three professional associates of the hero of the adventure, who had been expressly chartered for the purpose. The most casual observer could easily credit the fact, so often referred to, that at that period of her history the lady was physically presentable for the adoption of the pro- fession she was not slow to enter; but it did so fall out that the embodiment of the principal female characters in the works of the best authors required some initiatory experience, which she, in the excess of her vanity, never seemed to contemplate ; and if at any time, the which frequently happened, an unlucky contributor to the weekly paper, in an insane desire, as he imagined, to manifest his afiection for the progress of art, should deli- cately suggest that the wife of our worthy manager was scarcely up to the mark for the rendition of Queen Cath- erine, such a character requiring a depth of thought and intensity of expression not usually possessed by a lady whose forte lay in the exposition of soubrettes of a viva- cious nature, the unfortunate husband was compelled to place himself in instant communication with the propri- etors of the journal that had "thus gone out of its way to oifer violence to a sensitive lady's feelings," at the same 3 50 FOOTLIGIIT FLASHES. time insinuating that if the delinquent correspondent again exhibited such unheard of malevolence, he, the manager, would be compelled to withdraw his ad- vertisements, and furnish his establishment with pro- grammes of the entertainments from the office of the ri- val journalist over the way. The very desirable advantage of youth and beauty, our heroine had no respect or sympathy for whatever ; indeed, the possession of either of these pleasing qualifi- cations was, in her estimate, rather an objection than otherwise ; in pi'oof of which she declared instant war- fare with any lady who could, by her personal attractive- ness on the stage, secure the approval of the public, and should she add to her enormity by presuming to obtain an encore for a song, a gentle shaking was the certain result, as a just and proper penance for such a flagrant act of impropriety. It may very readily be supposed that the theatre over which this ogress presided, was no very agreeable place for one of the female gender under such a course of tutor- age. Resignations were in consequence not unfrequent ; every secession invoking the pretended ire of the very person who had been the sole cause of its consummation. This antagonism arose from the serious conviction the good lady entertained, that the juvenile heroines of com- edy or tragedy could find no such fitting representative as herself; for even her increasing age and rotundity of form failed in dispelling the pleasing delusion. Should she be now in existence, we feel assured she still clings tenaciously to the hallucination. Alas, poor lady ! she is but one amongst the many of both sexes who ignore the potency of that universal lev- eller, Time ! and who prefer to exist upon the delicate disguise of stubborn facts. It is well to bear kindly wilh tliese weaknesses ! it is FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 51 exciting to be button-holed by one who was once the beau ideal of the man of fashion and faultless symmetry on the stage, and who has just had his feelings deeply lacerated by the receipt of an oifer from a manager, who would like to avail hiaiself of his services for the ensu- ing season, to take charge of the representation of the heavy fathers of the ponderous drama. In the seclusion of private life, it would be well the world should know, that however intoxicated with the success of their early careei-, there are many not unlike the wife of our manager here represented, whose charity, in its quiet, unobtrusive delicacy, has shed a cheering ray of atonement for years of professional vanity, and whose memory may occupy a niche in the kindly remembrance of many a grateful heart. THE PHENOMEKOlSr. In the year 1837, I was a member of a company in Kent, presided over by a gentleman who, with his daugh- ter, has been photographed by a great writer, presenting as he never fails to do, a most pleasing and droll por- traiture ; but in no single instance is this like the originals. This must have arisen from the author's reliability upon the representations of others, without availing himself of the facilities for personal observation. 'Twas here that I first heard that most popular of comic songs, "Jim Crow," not by my dear old friend " Daddy Rice," but warbled by the Phenomenon. There was a ponderous attempt at grandeur about the parent of the novelty above named, that had for its object a desire to impress the company with its great magnifi- cence, but which generally had a contrary effect. It was a custom to give single performances at adjacent towns on the ofi" play nights ; which the choice spirits of the company used to designate the " Waterspout perfor- 52 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. mances " so called from the fact that the scenes used in the representation were so constructed they would pack into a long box, which receptacle, when emptied of its contents, was placed across the front of the stage, and formed a very good temporary float-light guard. We made a foray into the town of Ashford, and took possession of the hall wherein all the public business appertaining to the place and neighborhood was conduct- ed. It was a large room, with portraits of celebrities who had devoted the best energies of their parochial nature to the perpetuity of measures for the welfare of their fellow townsmen, and whose facial monuments, albeit not rendered in a flattering aspect by the artists who had handed them down to posterity, glared out upon you with a severity which impressed you with the conviction that you were on trial for some heinous offence, and need expect no mercy at their hands. It was well lighted with oil lamps, and capable of seating one thousand persons without much inconvenience. We boasted not of raised platform, or stage ; the box before mentioned divided the actors from the audience, while draperies of various colors filled the spaces between the canvas proscenium, and the walls. The pieces for the evening's entertainment were the tragedy of Doug- las, a song and dance, and the farce of Popping the Question. The manager j^layed Glenalvan ; his wife, Lady Randolph ; the Phenomenon, young Norval ; and the writer, old Nerval. The Highland fling between the pieces, by the exotic, who also enacted one of the old maids in the farce. The attendance was very good, and the performance satisfactory, but when, at its conclusion, we were about to depart, the conveyance in which we had made our triumphal entry into the town was no whereto be found ; after considerable delay it was discovered locked up in rOOTLIGHT FLASHES, 53 the churchyard, and no one could find the key. We had another temporary attachment for a hotel beauty here, and were rather pleased at the delay than otherwise. The performances were under the patronage of the « Chummy, and Fish Clubs " a bill of which is before us as we write. The manager impressed the public in every town he visited, with the belief that Edmund Kean had, in a burst of admiration for his daughter's ability, present- ed her with what, in theatrical parlance, was called a battlefield hat ; whereas the true story was, " that the identical head gear was found among some odds and ends in the property room of the Richmond (Surry) Theatre, and its ever having been worn by the great tragedian, was at best doubtful ! " I allude to these peculiarities of gaining popularity m no spirit of spleen, or mischievous desire to cast a stigma of any kind upon the talent of a lady who has most de- servedly risen to the highest jjoint of dramatic ex- cellence. No one cherishes a greater regard for her than he who now alludes to a single instance only, of a career that, by clever business management during its nonage, planted the seeds that have since blossomed, and present- ed to an admiring world the most luscious products of the Thespian garden. A heavy calamity has lately befallen this distinguished actress. A few years since she quitted the sphere of professional greatness, and bestowed her hand and heart upon a brave and gallant soldier. Now the nation minsrles its sorrow with the bereaved widow for the loss of him who, in the pride of manhood, yielded his life to sustain the honor of his country. After many years, when fortune had not been a niggard with her gifts, I met the father of the subject of these remarks in London, and he remembered me with much gratification ; which is not always the case with many 54 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. who recoil with horror at a retrospect of the days when the season's exertions would terminate, and leave their exchequer in so needy a condition that a pedestrian expe- dition became a matter of absolute necessity. After one or two attempts, at divers places, similar to those recounted in the preceding chapters, where I dis- tinguished myself in (as, I then believed) the rendition of the heroes of tragedy, I took flight to ISTottingham, where I commenced the assumption of aged characters, in the part of Adam Winterton. This was in the month of June, 1836. My stay here was very brief, for in the month of September of the same year I received an ofier for the Queen's Theatre, London, where I made my Metropoli- tan bow in the Baron of Oatland in the oj^era of the Haunted Tower. Mrs. Waylet, George Stansbury, Ml". Manvers, and Mr. Conquest were in the cast. I played Simpson in Simpson & Co., Sir Peter Teazle, and many parts of a like nature to the popular Mrs. Nes- bit, and remained a member of the company till the close of the speculation, when I removed to the Victoria, where I speedily discovered the fallacy of remaining in London with my then limited experience, and departed for Worthing, in Sussex, in August 1838, from thence to Sheffield and Doncaster with Hammond, Reading with Barnet, and Bristol with Mrs. Macready, the steji-mother of the great tragedian. While at Sheffield I may recount an act of assurance I committed which, for effrontery, has seldom been excelled. It happened that the celebrated Mr. and Mrs. Wood, the vocalists, were announced to sing La Somnambula, but on the morning of the expected production of the opera, the gentleman who was to perform the part of the Count Rodolpho, was taken with a severe attack of sickness, and compelled to keep his bed. What was to FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 55 be done ? The box list was full, and to substitute another opera would give great cause for dissatisfaction. It took j'ery little jiersuasion to induce me to try to get through it; and, with the leader of the orchestra, worked at the score all the afternoon so satisfactorily, that, when the evening came I received two encores ; and, with the aid of Mr. Wood, who gave me all the starting notes of the several solos in the second act from behind the curtains of the bed, got along in a way that seemed to afibrd per- fect satisfaction to a densely packed house, and repeated the part on two or three subsequent occasions. In 1840, I Avent to Norwich, Yarmouth, Cambridge, Bury St. Edmund's, Ipswich, Colchester and Lynn. These several towns formed one of the most delightful circuits that can be well imagined. Though so many years have passed, I look back to that happy period of my career with feelings of pleasure and delight. The Norwich, circuit was celebrated for its matrimonial at- tacks upon the members of the dramatic company both male and female, therefore I am not reprehensible for being caught in its toils at Bury St. Edmund's on the 30th Nov. 1842. Indeed, so contented am I to bear, with un- complaining fortitude, the penalty of my rashness, that I seriously recommend all youthful dramatic artists to em- igrate there, in the hope that, should they connubialize, (which almost amounts to a certainty,) they may be as fortunate as I was in the selection of a partner, who by unwavering faithfulness to her domestic mission, has il- lumined the dark horizon of professional turmoil ; and shed a cheering influence of content and hapi^iness upon all around her. In 1842, Mr. Robert Roxby became the manager of the Theatre Royal, Manchester. The principal members of the company consisted of S. Butler, C. D. Pitt, D. W. King, (Tenor), Munyard, J. Jonstone, Woolgai-, C. Bass, 56 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. C. F. Marshall, R. Roxby, Bellingham J, Howard, Bar- ham, W. Grisdale, Miss S. J. Woolgar, Miss Walcott, Miss Angel, etc. etc. and Mr. W. Davidge. In 1844, the Manchester Theatre was destroyed by fire. I went to Brighton, and at the end of the season to Ed- inboro', where I found E. Glover, Lester Wallack, Leigh Murray, Couldock, Ray, Parselle, Mackay, G. Honey, Lloyd, J. Moore, Miss Nicoll, Miss Macready, etc. etc. I received the kindest consideration from the Scotch critics, as well as the inhabitants of the capital city ; and quitted the scene of my labors to return to Manchester, for the opening of the new theatre in Se]3tember, 1845, having previously made ray first visit to Plymouth in August, where I met the Misses Cushman. During the vacation of 1847, 1 played an engagement at the Queen's Theatre, Dublin, where the production of " The Fair One with the Golden Locks," with other light pieces of a similar character, afforded an opportunity of my being seen to some advantage, and was a source of great profit to the management. The following year I made a second visit to Dublin, with, I am pleased to say, the same satisfactory result. As an illustration of the exteme length to which pre- judice or caste could in those days affect an actor, I remember meeting the lessee of the Theatre Royal, who inquired if I could recommend the name of a comedian I considered sufficiently up to the mark to suit the patrons of his establishment. I thought for a moment, and rec- ollected I had lately seen at the Grecian Saloon in Lon- don, a gentleman who would be precisely the! person he wanted. " What's his name ? " said the manager. " Robson," said I. "Robson ! " echoed he ; " where did you see him ? " " At the Grecian Saloon," I replied. POOTLIGHT PLASHES. 57 "Ugli ! wouldn't have him if he'd come for nothing !" Since the date of the above, Mr. Robson, prior to his death, rose to the highest grade in London, and able re- viewers claimed for him a position as an artist second only to Bouffe, of the French stage. I have seen the time, now happily past, when an actor of either of the jDatent theatres, as Covent Garden and Drury Lane were then termed, would with reliic- tance address a brother professional who might be em- ployed at an establishment not legally entitled to that proscrijjtive distinction. The Hon. T. Duncombe broke down this barrier, when he introduced his bill permitting the representation of the standard drama at every thea- tre, without distinction of caste. Whether the drama as an art, by being deprived of its surroundings, has been benefitted thereby, is a question I am not disposed to discuss in this jilace. Mr. Robson died in London, much regretted, on the 11th of August 1864, aged 43. CHAPTER VIII. " A merrier man, Within the limits of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal." — Love's Labor Lost. Act 2. Scene 1. A CONSECUTIVE cLaiii of events form no part of my purpose in these pages, neither do I propose to solicit the company of my patient readers through engagements at places where the styles of people are merely a reflex of those met with before ; but shall in pursuance of this in- tention, pay little regard, if any, to data, but present the " Footlight Flashes " from the crucible of memory in such a manner as will produce the most luminous and pleasing eifect. Long ere I became a professional actor I beguiled my leisure evenings with a probationary element of the drama at an amateur theatre in Catherine street, Strand, Lon- don ; a nursery from whence many of the brightest lights which now adorn the histrionic art first passed through the trying ordeal of facing the enemy in the auditorium ; a more difficult task, I am advised by those skilled in the science of warfare, than encountering your antagonist in the din and deathful clamor of the battle field. BEN SlSrSTTHSON, THE DRAMATIC AGENT. Some of my professional brethren, for there arc a few in America now, (18G6) who graduated there, will recol- lect with feelings of respect Ben Smythson, the dramatic agent who, for several years, leased the theatre for the pur- FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 59 pose of amateur performances. Ben was a retired actor who bad once held a fine position in Ireland when the great Talbot, the light conaedian, was in his zenith. He was a man of much information, and geniality of manner, very grandiloquent in conversation, and totally regard- less of his personal appearance, in the matter of costume. He had a wife of herculean mould, and a constantly in- creasing family of children, all of whom are now in good positions in music and the drama. Prior to his tenancy of the j^lace above mentioned, he kept a tavern, a gener- al resort for all actors who were seeking engagements, and who congregated there to possess themselves of all the current news of the day. Mrs. S. had but recently presented her lord and mas- ter with the customary annual offering, when I did my- self the pleasure of calling for the jDurpose of expressing my congratulations on the event of an increase to the family significance ; and expressed a hope that the off- spring, with its mother, were progressing favorably, at which he placed himself in a pantomimical attitude, " a la Don Juan," and began — Tum^ te tum.^ te turn te turn, turn, te te te te^ tiddle turn te turn te turn te turn te turn! The last sentence brought him into a final and impos- ing position, with his right hand extended, and pointing to a large placard over the bar door, on which was writ- ten in capitals, for the benefit of all enquirers. " The hostess and her offspring are as icell as can he ex- pectedP His pompous style was well exemplified on one particu- lar occasion. Calling to indulge in a cup of coffee, the following dialogue took place. W. B. "I think I'll take a cup of coffee, Ben, if you please." Ben. " Certainly, my boy. (^Opening a door leading to the Jdtchen.) liosabella." 60 rOOTLIGHT FLASHES. Servant. {In the extreme distance.) " Yes, sir." Ben. "A vase of the sedative," W. D. " Won't you take one ? " Ben. " Thank you, my hoy, I will." {Turning to us,) Do you take sugar ? " W. D. If you please." Ben. Rosabella. Two vases of the sedative, one with the saccharine, and one without." Great men in whatever way distinguished, have at all times a peculiar charm for the youthful mind ; and in no case more evident than in contemplating the performance, or presence of a great actor. Though mournful the occasion, I can well remember be- ing in the midst of a galaxy of the greatest names asso- ciated with the London stage. In the year 1831, died the most perfect actress of her time, the unapproachable Siddons; she, before whose youthful eiForts even Garrick quailed. The concourse of mourners, and the aspect of woe each countenance wore, bore ample testimony to the position the lost one had occupied in the public esteem ; while the numerous representatives of her family, from the classic and elegant gentleman, Charles Kemble, to the most accomplished of dramatic managers, William Murrey of Edinburgh, poured out their grief as an offering of regret to the social excellence of the departed. Similar emotions impressed me when, two years later, Edmund Kean was summoned to " another, and a bet- ter world " and the town of Kichmond, in Surry, paid the last tribute to the matchless tragedian, by suspending its daily avocation, and, in company Avith sorrowing spirits from afar, mingling their tears of anguish for a nation's loss. The former of these world-renowned artists I never saw ; FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 61 with the hitter's acting I was perfectly familiar. I have decamped from the paternal roof with the certainty of a sound thrashing and the deprivation of my evening meal when I returned, to see the great actor in his several parts. I have been rammed, jammed, and trodden upon, till I became callous to consequences, waiting to obtain an entrance into the gallery of Covent Garden Theatre. I have watched for him in the streets for hours; have followed his carriage, have jumped up behind it, and been most ignominiously cut down by the coachman's whip. But my first practical and demonstrative acquaintanceship was at Drury Lane Theatre, where by virtue of the favor of Tom Cooke, the leader of the orchestra, I managed to intrude behind the scenes. There I received my FIRST IMPE'ESSIOK OF EDMUND KEAN. At the time of this adventure, the actor was at the meridian of his professional glory. Not to have seen him in his most powerful and unapproachable delinea- tions would have stigmatised you as beyond the pale of civilization. It cannot be wondered then that the youth- ful, as well as the adult mind, should have thirsted for such an intense enjoyment. Having the opportunity to avail myself of a peep behind the scenes, I never over- looked the privilege, and ensconced in a secure retreat, awaited the performance of Othello thus cast : Othello, E. Kean ; lago, C. Young ; Cassio, J. Cooper ; the after- piece was a spectacle of gorgeous magnificence, requiring a large amount of scenery for its representation. Kean had retired to his room during a Avait in the second act, and the writer, (emulating the example still adhered to by fashionable visitors to places of amusement when the favortite quits the scene,) vacated his little standing place near the wings, and prowled about amongst the mysteries of castle walls, oaken chambers, palace gar- 62 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. dens etc., and was returning, attracted by the bell peeling forth its solemn and ponderous thunder of mutinous dis- content. I heard a rapid tread behind me. "Go on," said a voice, with great impatience, and in an awfully distinct tone. I did " go on," I thought. The passage way was so crowded with scenery that it aiforded space for but one person at a time. Suddenly I became aware of the extreme impulsiveness of human nature in general, and the proprietor of the voice in par- ticular, by a powerful shock inflicted on that part of my person that looks north when the face is to the south, which threw me most unceremoniously far beyond the contracted pathway ; and before I had time to request to be made acquainted with the nature of the services I had performed that should entitle me to such an unusual and exclusive mark of recognition, I heard the unmistakable burst of Kean's voice, and caught sight of him rushing with cimeter in hand through the centre gates, shouting " Hold for your lives " etc., etc. I then made the discov- ery that I had, unconsciously, nearly made the stage wait for the great tragedian. I did not insist upon an explanation. It is even probable I might rather have felt painfully flattered by such an unmistakable mark of distinguished recognition. I Avas a great patron of the several theatres at about this period; indeed, no new and startling drama could possibly be presented to the jiublic without my sitting in judgment on its inaugural presentation. The incidents both before and behind the curtain are so peculiar, as to be embodied in a sejiarate sketch ; it is to be hoped that many who have listened to the peculiar badinage of the Loudon mechanic and other patrons of the galleries of the minor theatres in the great metropolis, will discover some resemblance to the reality in the following descrip- tion of, FOOTLIGUT FLASHES. 63 THE FIRST NIGHT OF A NEW PLAT IX LONDON. The production of a new play at one of the minor theatres was, and still is, a matter of most intense impor- tance to that portion of the building yclept the gallery, where the freedom of costume and expression affords am- ple scope for the study of the curious. Time, 5.30 p. ir. Scene, the New Cut approaching the gallery doors of the Victoria Theatre. Dramatis Per- sons, the Gamins of London, with a j^lentiful sprinkling of adults, whose pursuits being of a mechanical nature, are by no means inconvenienced by the pushing and crowd- ing they have to encounter ; but seem rather to regard it as a pleasing relaxation from the dull routine of the work shop. As the time for opening the doors approaches, the crowd increases to an extent by no means agreeable for those who find themselves beyond the j^ossibility of se- curing a front seat, or even one in an eligible position. It is then that the young gentleman -who has divested himself of his jacket as an unnecessary article of wearing apparel in such a temperature, indulges in pleasant little sallies with those who are less fortunate in location than himself: " I say old 'un," bellows the young gentleman alluded to above, to a staid looking old play-goer, whose chance for a good seat is extremely remote. "Hi!" The old gentleman purposely turns a deaf ear to the salutation, and refuses to recognize it. " Hollo ! you in the blue choker, and downy caster ! " perseveres the youth. " AVell, what now ? " cries the individual, whose person- al identification has been thus positively defined by the above inventory of his head gear. 64 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. " Vill ye stand a ke-vorton, two outs, if I carries ye in in my harms as ray own babby ? " At which the old gentleman looks exceedingly wi'oth, and intimates his conviction that his interlocutor is an impudent young puppy, and he would like to indulge in the luxury of boxing his eai'S. A threat that rather seems to fail in its intention ; for the urchin invites him to " send an express messenger for hi^ father and all his relations of the male gender, the whole of whom he is ready to take his affidavit he will despatch to that 'bourne from whence no traveller returns ; ' " and in consideration of his oj^po- nent's pitiable condition as an occupant of a back seat, he will generously undertake to provide for the feminine part of the household, by taking the most j^repossessing one to wife, and disposing of the balance, in the most sumptuous manner, for the balance of their natural lives. " Now, then, take care, will ye, stupid ? " says a gen- tleman in a paper cap, and whose jacket is strongly im- pregnated with the odor peculiar to those who pass their time in converting deal boards into articles of domestic use. " Jest you keep off my corns, or you'll hear from me by the werry earliest conweyance." " How can I help it, when that ere chap will keep a shoving me behind in this way ? " " Now you keep tight hold o' me, Mary," urges a young man gotten up with some amount of care and attention, to a pretty looking servant girl, with very bright ribbons in her bonnet, and cheeks to match, whose readiness to comply, rather ignores the impression that her sex are prone to a contradictory code of principles. " Now, then, look out ! steady ! Oh, don't shove so ! Oh ! keep your elbows out of my ribs, will ye ? " A large bolt is withdrawn, and the mass of human beings begin to move slowly upwards. The first six or FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 65 eight who effect an entrance, charge furiously towards the money taker, Avhose box is garnished by two policemen of forbidding aspect, and herculean proportions ; the duties of whose office is to marshal, without favor or affection, the several patrons in proper file to receive their checks, and to preserve the peace generally. Presently a boy tries an artful bit of generalship to gain admission ; it is done in this wise. While placing liis hand, as if in the act of depositing his money, upon the pay place, he affects to have dropped the coin at his feet ; to search for it is, of course, impossible at such a time; the guardians of the public peace instantly pounce upon the unlucky delinquent, and he is speedily deposit- ed in a corner, all the time protesting that his bob (shil- ling) slipped out of his hand, and " they might let a cove in afore all the best seats is gone, for he's been wait- ino- there, ever since three o'clock in the afternoon, and the tin will be sure to be found arter the crowd has gone in." Sometimes he will begin to bellow most lustily, when he sees an elderly man with two boys approach, hoping to excite the compassion of the -pater familias ; but the ruse generally fails, and may be remembered with the street-door hey and hasJiet delusions, which have, years ago, lost their fascinating qualities. The result is almost cer- tain to be disastrous to the principal performer, whom, when time and opportunity serve, is most unceremonious- ly propelled, by one of the stout boots of the policeman, with alarming rapidity to the foot of the stairs. Save the several and frequent admonitions for the vis- itors to take personal care of their pockets from the at- tentions of the light-fingered gentry, there is little to oc- cupy your thoughts till you find yourself deposited in the gallery, where a scene presents itself both animated, and variable. 66 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. s The genus artful., again exhibits its prowess with the laudable design of procuring for itself a comfortable lo- cation from whence to view the performance. This is accomplished by feigning to recognize some friend in the second or third row from the front, and begging permis- sion of the occupants of the upper seats the privilege of passing down. Sometimes the ruse succeeds, and he will manage to squeeze himself into a sitting posture. This, with the invitations from those who have really secur- ed seats for their friends, beguiles the time till the lights are raised, and the orchestra begins the overture. The first scene, (being new for the occasion,) or so much of it as to destroy its identification with a land- scape painted for a new piece gotten up in the early part of the previous season at considerable expense, and which was seriously intended to run three months, but " shuf- fled ofli" its mortal coil," in a like number of nights, is re- ceived with that applause which its merits deserve, and the actors also are favored with a recognition so pleasing to those who are in constant receipt of such compliments, and so inconsistent to others who never obtain any no- tice whatever, and the act terminates to the satisfaction of the most exacting critic. " Apples ! Oranges ! Ginger-beer ! Bill o' the play ! " cries a sturdy female, with strong, muscular develop- ment, as she grazes the shins of the occuiDants of each and every seat with a basket of unusual jjroportions con- taining tlie aforesaid luxuries. " By your leave, young ooman, if you please ; and she dabs the basket into the lap of a female, who, in compa- ny with a congenial spirit, is taking her second sand- wich, a large bundle of which nourishment she has armed herself with, as a set-oiF against hei* afternoon meal which she has been deprived of by her presence there. " It's my opinion," says the young woman addressed, FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 67 after having plentifully fortified herself against the at- tacks of hunger, " that these 'ere women with their bas- kets is a confounded nuisance, and ought to be j'ut down." Similar scenes are repeated in pretty much the same style at the end of the several acts, during which it is more than probable we are favored with an interlude not provided by the management, but none the less amus- ing. A young lady in a faded pink bonnet and shawl, with a profusion of border of a crimson tint, inadvertently re- plies to a question propounded by a gentleman in a col- ored shirt, embellished with studs of a dazzling splen- dor; the which excites the ire of the lady's chaperon., who threatens, without fee or reward, to pitch the said individual into the pit. He, of the studs, while treating the compliment with disdain, consoles himself with a promise to wait favorable opportunity, during the ab- sence of the fair sex, and thrash him to his heart's con- tent. As none of us are proof against the blandishments of the softer portion of creation, it is no wonder that the female with the prettily formed mouth, Avhich she keeps in a jDcrpetual giggle, should secure the admiration of the susceptible youth with curly hair, who fixes his eyes upon her with an expression of fervor too significant to be mistaken for the result of accident ; so evident, indeed, is the action, that her cavalier, with a frown, requests he will direct his gaze in some other direction ; an admoni- tion that only meets with the rejoinder that, — " He belives his heyes is his own, and he shall use 'em as most convenient to his own fancy, without consult- ing him, or any of his friends as he knows on ! " Meanwhile, preparations are proceeding on the stage for the "great thii-d act," (vide bills,) wherein the Duke, 68 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. surrounded by liis officers, habited in his robes of state, seated upon a raised dais, issued a decree of outlawry against a poor but honest peasant, whose only percepti- ble crime appears to be, a secret affection conjointly ex- isting between himself and the pet daughter of the afore- said ducal despot. As the play proceeds the audience entertain a person- al admiration or antipathy for the several personages, in proportion to the phase of character they represent; and when in the fourth act, the heroine, attired in garments of snowy Avhiteness, with her back hair streaming to the winds, encounters her obdurate parent, while he is chafed with the affairs of state, and acquaints him with her firm determination to linger out her virgin existence within the close confines of a dungeon's walls, sooner than be immolated upon the hated affections of that "fiend in human form," (as she styles the lord and princely owner of a neighboring domain, to whom her father is preparing to dispose of her,) the audience are in ecstacies of de- light at her personal courage, and devoted affection for the friendless, but virtuous peasant. A confidential interview between the dignitary so highly complimented, and the Duke, speedily discloses the deep subtlety of the dramatist in the conduct of his plot: these worthies not only propose to carry off the heroine aforesaid, with the aid of two hired ruffians (whose very appearance is a stamp receij^t for cruelty,) but they also design, when this little bit of paternal beneficence shall be consummated, to divide the worldly wealth to which the lady would be entitled on reaching her majority, between them, which very equitable dis- position of the property is only prevented by the startling discovery that one of the gentlemen detailed for this pleas- ing office, is none other than the humble peasant before alluded to, and whose appearance in such a character FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 69 without being very clearly defined how he could possibly get there, secures for the drama a powerful and brilliant denouement, and contributes a wholesome lesson of retri- butive justice to the delighted auditory. The audience retire to dream of the fascinating scene ; the actors wend their way homeward weary and fatigued with their night's exertions ; the ladies of the ballet emerge from the stage-door bearing curiously shaped baskets or parcels supposed to contain small articles of wearing apparel indispensable for the next day'*s use. As they draw their scanty shawls about them, and the night air pierces into their very bones, cast a thought of wo- manly sympathy, ye choice daughters of afHuence and comfort, whose very atmosphere shields ye from the breath of calumny, and know that beneath those cheap, but tastily made habiliments, beat hearts as pure from guile, or sin, as many who luxuriate on the downy couch of indolent ease, or indulge in the freedom of fashionable foil v. The night Avatchman relieves the day porter, and, as he wanders through every nook and cranny of the build- ing, bears an apt resemblance to the troubled spirit of some departed gnome, searching for something he can- not find. CHAPTER IX. ** Throwing him into the water will do him a benefit." — Merry Wives. Act 3. Scene 3. BENEFIT MAKING. This is a science achieved only by a limited number of the profession. It is impossible to describe its modus operandi with any amount of accuracy. Some there are who deluge every friend, or acquaintance, no matter of how long standing, with tickets, who are often compelled to dispose of, or pay for them, for very shame. Others there are who, in the exercise of their desire to ujjhold the dignity of the profession, content themselves by simply notifying the public through the medium of the daily papers that " they beg to present their claims for the kindly consideration of their indulgent patrons, hop- ins: to be favored with a small modicum of their usual affectionate regard." The profits derived from these transactions are not as advantageous as the public, in the innocence of its good nature, mostly believe ! indeed, we once knew an actor who refused most postively to permit his name to be used for a benefit, under the plea, that with a rapidly increasing family, and a sick wife, he couldn't j^ossibly afford to run the risk of the speculation. Another congratulated himself on his increasing pop- ularity in only losing ten dollars at his last benefit ; whereas, on making his appeal the year preceding, he FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 71 was minus twenty dollars, showing a clear gain of ten dollars in his monetary significance with the public. The most successful manoeuvre Avithin my recollection was perpetrated in the county of Norfolk, where we had a very useful and pains-taking actor, whose name was Baker, but who never had been able to muster a tolerable assembly at his benefit. On the occasion to which I here refer he was much in need of money, and Hit upon the following plan. A wealthy man in the neighborhood had an only child, whose custom was to wander about the fields plucking flowers. A river with a rapid stream skirted the field, terminating in a dam of great depth and difiicult of approach from the shore. Suddenly a shriek was heard, the child was seen struggling in the water, and being carried with great velocity towards the dam. Baker was on the spot ; quick as thought he threw off a portion of his garments, and regardless of dangen (lie was an expert swimmer) dashed into the current! The cries of the child had brought numbers to the place, among them the frantic parent of the little one, whose almost sirffocated form was thrown to and fro, at the will of the turgid element. The excitement was terrible, as the bystanders were unable to assist in the slightest degree from their point of sight the intrepid youth, save with their encouraging plaudits. At length he seized the drowning one by the back of its little neck, and tenderly elevated its head to such a position as to afford its fastly ebbing nature the advantage of respiration, and sustaining himself as best he could, made for the shore ; Avhere, amid the shouts of a gratified multitude, and copious flows of tears from the joyous parent, he laid his little treasure at his feet, and walked triumphantly to his lodgings, a " wetter, but a happier man ! " The journals throughout the whole county indulged in panegerics without number, of the most laudatory kind, 72 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. and his benefit came off under special patronage of the Mayor and corporation ; the house was crowded to excess, and when Baker came forward in all the agony of evening costume at the end of the play, to return thanks for the distinguished honor conferred by the attendance of the aristocratic visitors, two old maiden ladies, whose heads were surmounted with formidable battlements of pink • 69 $1,847,52 $1,652,60 $294,92 26,70 1843, 109 2,653,75 1,875,10 778,66 24,33 1844, 133 3,658,69 2,749,64 909,00 27,50 1845, 118 4,560,25 3,348,15 1,212,13 38,64 1846, 198 13,667,25 8,656,39 5,010,86 69,02 1847, 252 .879 28,752,79 12,585,38 16,167,41 114,09 5 1 years, $55,140,25 $30,767,26 $24,372,98 Thus it will be seen that in 1843, the entire profits only amounted to a trifle over $700, and in 1847 it ex- ceeded 116,000. 1848, 308 $39,432,37 $16,653,00 $22,779,37 128,02 1849, 311 34,295,00 15,765,25 18,529,75 110,27 1850, 305 46,778,50 20,313,00 26,465,50 153,37 1851, 340 43,952,25 23,831,00 20,121,25 129,27 1852, 317 60,019,25 26,022,25 23,997,00 157,78 1853, 312 47,971,75 23,364,00 24,607,75 153,78 1854, 202 43,037,75 39,338,98 3,698,77 213,06 Total, 2,420 $372,140,25 $191,053,25 $181,087,00 191,053,25 Thus from June 1842 to July 15, 1854, Mr. Christy gave 2,420 concerts. The total receipts to which were $372,140 25. The expenses amounted to $191,053 25; leav- ing a balance of $181,087, or over $15,000 per annum. I am not cognizant of the amount of yearly profit of Messrs. Bryant, Birch, Backus &c,, but believe it to be very much larger than their predecessor ; but of this I am from personal experience certain, that great as it may be, it is not capacious enough to sufiiciently reward them for the lib- eral spirit they are ever ready to manifest by words and deeds for all, and every claim made upon them by their less fortunate brothers in the profession of amusement, no matter what style of character they profess to represent. FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 129 CANDIDATES FOE DRAMATIC FAME. The unskilled in the secrets of the dramatic "prison house " are scarcely aware of the persistency of the theat- rically inclined, when the notion seizes them that destiny has marked him, or her, for one of its matchless expo- nents. They are not to be diverted from their purpose by any words, or acts of discouragement ingenuity may devise. Paint, however vividly, your own trials and distresses, while a member of a travelling company, far removed from friends or relatives, with an inadequate exchequer for the liquidation of y^our necessary w\ants,they are only the more eager to brave the ordeal in proportion to the diffi- culties to be surmounted. Private theatricals have much to do in fanning this Thespian flame, aided as it invariably is by the press, who generally laud the efforts of the novice in the most friend- ly spirit, hinting darkly that established tragic, or comic actors, must look well to their laurels if the gentleman who was the hero of the night's performance, should perse- vere in his proposed intention, and throw aside the ruler of commerce for the sword of Richard, or the tobacco pipe of Toodles. The following is a verbatim copy of one of the many letters continually received by managei's. Randolph, Oct., 26, 1857. Dear Sir. Having a vary strong desire to adopt the profession of an actor, I now address you for the purpose of secureing a situation in the Theatre, which you have the honor of manageing. I will say that I have attend- ed literary societies considerable, and have practiced declameing some. Consequently I do not think that I shall be much troubled with stage fright. While a mem- ber of the Randolph Academy Lyceum, I acted the part of Hob in the play of Hob and Nob, a part requireing G* 130 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. the manifestation of good deal of energy and activity, but still a very easy part to act, at least it was for me. The audeance, (as far as I know anything about it) were universaly well pleased with my acting ; I have lately been invited, by the big bugs of the place, to act the part of Sir Marmaduke Medows, in the play entitled Bam- boozleing, and expect to do so in a few days. My friends think that indipendance and determination, is a very strong feature of my character. I do not know that you believe in Phrenology, but the organs which give the disposition and the ability to understand human na- tui'e, are marked 6 on a scale of from one to seven (seven meaning very larg) on a chart which I have lately received from Fowler and Wells. Let that be as it ma, I have made human nature my studdy for the last 5 years. In the written description of character and talants which L. N. Fowler has made out for me, he says that I am susceptable of and can endure a very high degree of mental exsitement. But be that as it may, I am very exciteable and when interested in subjest speak with great force and energy. I understand that my tem- perament is very favorable for an actar. Fowler say's that I am naturally well qualified for an actar. My height is 5 ft 5| inches with boots off, light build, light complex- ion, black hair, dark gray eyes, prominiant arched eye brows, somewhat round shouldered. My voice is com- paratively strong and good but would be improved by cultivation. I think I could make a good comic acter, so my friends tell me. I think I could represent the passions of grief and dispair as well as any. There is no passion but what I could express, without it is conjugal love ? with a little practice I think I could do that as well as it is generally done. I am willing to commence just as far down the lader as it is necessary in order to do well what FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 131 I attempt to do. Please answer this as son as you can and tell me what wages I can get, and whether you can employ me or not. Please address D. A. P e Randolph, N. Y. CHAPTER XV. All the secrets of our camp I'll show Their force, their purposes; nay, I'll speak that Which you will wonder at." JllVs Well that Ends Well. Act 4. Sctne 1. BEHIND THE SCENES. [Theatre, The Ladies and Gentlemen engaged at this Thea- tre for the ensuing season, are requested to assemble in the Green Koom, at eleven o'clock, on day, the inst., prior to the commencement of the season on the . By order , Stage Manager. Vide Herald.'] The amusement seeker cannot resist viewing with feel- ings of curiosity the above announcement of the open- ing of the favorite places of entertainment for the fall and Avinter mouths. It is a matter of especial interest to vs^atch for the first issue of a full list of the company, particularly the names of the ladies. Every theatre has in its corps dratnatique some one, or two, just budding into womanhood, and into the mys- teries of their profession, Avho are subjects of comment and admiration, among the juvenile portion of the oppos- ite sex, — gents who take especial care of their personal apj)earance, and are scrui^ulous on the subject of neck- ties, dress canes, and the most distingue perfume. The more mature admirers of the theatre are not with- out their cogitations on the approaching campaign. Their tastes are for the fine old solid drama. They can look back with regret to the palmy days of the Park, and have a pleasing and vivid remembrance of losing their coat rOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 133 tails in effecting an entrance into the pit of that once popular establishment on the opening of the season, five and thirty years ago. The anxiety without the confines of the dramatic tem- ple, are as nothing when compared with the evident un- easiness within its portals. The stage manager is daily closeted with the scenic artist, and the prompter; the latter's duty being to furnish a list of the scenes, and pro- perties requisite for the foithful representation of the new drama of startling, and novel interest. The manager looks careworn but confident, as he emerges from his private office, and is waylaid in one of the passages by an actor whom he has already three times orally, and once by letter, informed, "he can really find no opening for," The meeting day arrives, and with it a portion of the company, the new members generally putting in an early appearance, and who beguile the time by traversing the stage in pairs, and contrasting the capabilities of the au- ditorium with the one they have just quitted. The ladies, smiling pleasantly beneath the pressure of millinery artifice, have seated themselves in the green room, awaiting the important event. Some of the old established members of the company are absent, enjoying their seaside recreations, or enlightening the inhabitants of the smaller cities with the rendition of the choicest gems in their repertoire of last season. Presently, one or two of the new members stroll into the room, hat in hand, striving to seem perfectly at ease, when in fact they are anxious, and difiident, and the counterfeit glares boldly, out in spite of their efforts to conceal it. They are probably reflecting on the chances of success in their new, and more extensive field of ac- tion ; or wondering if the quality of their opening part, will be in accordance with the promises made to give them a "fiiir show." 134 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. " I beg your pardon," says the stage manager, coming into violent collision with a timid youth who is engaged to make himself generally useful, as he is rounding a sharp angle of the passage, near the green room door. Youth smiles upon the manager, and, despite the uneasi- ness consequent on the puncture of a scarf pin he wears, assumes an aspect of alFability, and apologizes in return. You enter the interdicted apartment, and the ceremo- ny of introduction takes place. The manager, Avith the gal- lantry for which his race(?) is distinguished, runs through the oi^reation as speedily as possible, and hastily sallies forth to find the messenger, who is holding a conference with the back door keeper, on the merits of the several candidates for the next municij^al election ; but who is speedily cut short in his favorite theme by a request to find the gas-man, and acquaint him that the manager would like to see him in his office, in the course of the morning. The sun having gone down on the company's embar- rassment by the arrival of the first old woman, who re- sides uj) town, and always prides herself on her punctu- ality in all business matters, and accounts for her present delay by assuring the company present that she had not the slightest idea it was so late by at least an hour, — that she had for some time suspected her hand-maiden of tampering with the family timepiece, now she was sure of it. She had submitted to a great deal from that un- grateful girl. " My dear, you don't know ! " (addressing herself to the second walking lady,) " what I have done for that girl. Ah, well ! have you heard from your sister since her marriage ? " " Oh ! dear me, yes. I got a letter only yesterday," says the lady appealed to, and " would you believe it," placing her mouth close to the ear of the first old Avoman, who starts, with astonishment and pleasure depicted in her face. FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 135 «No!" « Yes ! " " Well, give my kind regards, and congratulations when you write," says the first old woman ! " They were coming on here ! " says the second walk- ing lady, " but Mr. , the manager, has taken another theatre for a short season, and they are going to remain with him." Observe the two gentlemen who are looking at the printed list of rules and regulations posted on the wall beside the glass case, wherein the calls for rehearsals are placed. It is a terrible document, and sets forth at length the several acts of insubordination any member of the company may commit, with the amount of pecuniary punishment consequent thereon, — an exclusive privilege possessed by one of the contracting pai-ties, who is, at times, expected to sign, and abide by the conditions, without having to enforce an equivalent regard for its faithful response. The one in the suit of cocoa-colored clothes, with but- tons significant of sporting life, and cravat with pattern of brilliant hue, striped upon the ends, is at present un- known in the metropolis, and has been engaged at the strong solicitation of some friend of the manager, and is under promise to receive a share of some of the comedy. He is a great favorite in his own locality, in proof whereof a grand complimentary supper, and profitable benefit, was lately tendered him by the citizens, dignitaries of the bar, and others high in official significance, to which he responded, brimming over with gratitude and emotion that, " Through the intricacies of his early career they — his patrons — had, by their encouraging approval, cheered him onward, stimulating him to attain a prominence at the very summit of his art. Each round up the ladder 135 rOOTLIGHT FLASHES. of fame that he might be destined to mount, would but augment the debt of gratitude he should never be able to liquidate. And whether on the banks of the Hudson, the plains of the El Dorado, or amongst the luscious fruits of the sunny South, fortune might cast him, the present would ever be registered in the tablet of his memory as the proudest moment of his chequered existence." The other is of more fashionable exterior, and is about to make his entre into the capital city after a few months' probation in the provinces. He has already committed sad havoc in one female breast, at least, for on his depart- ture from his late field of action he received a pleasing little souvenir^ in the shape of a watch guard manufac- tured from the lady's hair, with an anonymous communica- tion to the effect that — " One who was at present unknown to him desii'ed his acceptance of this small token of her esteem. Hoping that when far distant he would think of his visit to her native town Avith none other than emotions of pleasure, and par- don her boldness in perpetrating an act she felt it impos- sible to repress." Three of the ladies have already decided that he is very good looking; the more youthful of the trio adding as an individual appendix, " That he is real sweet." lie is to take charge of the young men in the farces, and for which his appearance eminently fits him. " Hallo, old fellow ! how are you ? " says a gentleman of a rather rubicund tint, and on whom the good things of this life are evidently not thrown away. " By George, you look well ! Country air, and no bad parts to study, eh ? Ah, they wear out a man's constitu- tion most confoundedly. Look at me ! I believe I've played during the last three years more bad parts than any three men in the profession, but I'm callous to mis- FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 137 ery, sir. Xever got one decent show all last season, but I can brave the storm. Let it ra^e on for ausrht I care. " Ladies, how are you ? Glad to see you. Hope you've enjoyed yourselves through the summer. "Where have you all been, eh ? Breaking the hearts of us poor mortals as usual, I suppose." This complimentary remark is addressed to the ladies by the comedian ; who, without waiting for a reply, takes the arm of the second old man, and enquires where the lady sitting in the corner, with the blue hat, and eyes to match, hails from. The lady thns alluded to, but who is quite unconscious of the compliment, is destined to enact the boarding school misses, who will, in opposition to the parental desire, (as in real life), unite her destiny with the object of her own preference, despite his needy exchequer. The call boy now makes his appearence, with a slip of paper which he securely locks inside the glass case be- fore alluded to. The same contains the following i^iece of information. Tuesday. — Everybody for reading new piece in Green-room ! ! The said " everybody " now begins to take its departure. The ladies in little knots of two's, and three's, to indulge in a stroll by the most fashionable stores, and the gentle- men to satisfy their own indulgences in various Avays. If the drama to be read be of native manufacture, the author, or concoctor, will be marshalled to his seat with some degree of ceremony, by the stage manager, who will speedily avail himself of the very first opportunity to escape another infliction he has already been bored with. If, however, he be an actor, or an adept at dramatic upholstering, he will boldly take his seat, unfolding the dreadful document with the air of one skilled in the suf- ferings of his fellow creatures. 138 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. Judges of physiognomy can very readily discover the estimate the exponents of the several characters en- tertain of the one allotted to their charge. Those having the conduct of the plot, and the majority of the best situations, pay the most profound attention to the cer- emony; while the less fortunate, look with a glare of dis- trust and doubt on the probability of its success. Those from the j^rovinces, whose hopes have been buoyed uj) with the promise of a good opening part, be- take themselves to their dwelling places with a firm con- viction rooted in their minds, that there is evidently a combination to crush them ; for who could possibly do anything with such a part as they have each assigned them. " My boy," says an injured one, " there's not a line in it." " Why, my dear sir," urges a gentleman, (who has been very Avell taken care of by the dramatist) " you have a capital scene in the third act, and another in the fourth." " The third act ! " why, my good sir, the scene is sim- ply a feeder to the count, who has every climax through- out the interview; while in the fourth, the low comedy part is on the stage all the time ; therefore, what oppor- tunity can there be for quiet, subtle expression, with a bufibon at your elbow ! My dear boy, no one can resist the assaults of a clown. If you were acting Hamlet in the most perfect manner, and after the grave-digger had hand- ed you the skull of Yorick, and you made up your mind to produce a thrilling effect in the soliloquy, what w^ould be the state of your feelings if you heard the audience in a roar of laughter, and on turning to discover the cause of their merriment, you beheld the grave-digger playing a nigger air with some other portion of the dej^arted jester's anatomy." " I don't believe the piece will go ; the interest is centered too much in the female character, to the entire exclusion FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 139 of the lofty grandeur which the author might have avail- ed himself of in the scene where I encounter the duke for the first time. This I consider will be the fatal error, and the audience will not be slow to detect it," Each day's rehearsal brings the matter more plainly to the minds of every one concerned. The leading lady has a very long part, which she commits to memory as speedily as possible, and is perfect in the text several days prior to the production of the piece. The less fortunate ones in the dramatist's esteem are somewhat tardy in ac- quiring the words, which invoke from the manager the following peremptory order. Thursday. — New play!! — 11- Notice, — The manager particularly requests the same may be rehearsed -without parts. Which manifesto the call-boy, if he be of an hilarious temperament, posts up with a look of ineffable disdain at the delinquents, as he quits the room. The occupation of this individual, as his name clearly implies, is to summon the dramatis personm from the green-room when their services are required upon the stage. He is not unfrequently the offspring of an actor, with a widowed mother, to whose comforts he cheerfully ministers, out of very scanty materials. Or he may be a resident of the neighborhood in which the theatre is situated, whose instincts from the first time he Avatched patiently at the stage-door, for an hour and a half, in a pelting snow-storm, to catch a glimpse of the principal tragedian as he departed from rehearsal, have led him, from an irrepressible love for the place, to seek employ- ment within its precincts. When thoroughly installed in office, the distinctive fea- tures of his character are the same, or nearly so, irrespec- tive of his ancestral origin. Punctually, at the hour ap- 140 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. pointed for the fii'st rehearsal of the morning, he places upon the prompter's table pens, ink, the jjromj^t book, and a written cast of the play to be rehearsed — the lat- ter of which he procured from the call case in the green room, where it has been placed for the purpose of notify- ing the several ladies and gentlemen of the part they are to assume at its representation. The Call Boy. Arming himself with his list of names, arranged in numeric order as they will be required, he awaits in- structions from the prompter — who, in due time, and after consulting his watch, to be certain that the usual ten minutes' grace allowed for the first call has transpired. FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 141 desires him to call one. He thereupon proceeds to the green room, and from tlie memorandum above described, audibly requests the parties whose names are appended to number one, to attend upon the stage for the com- mencement of the morning's business. When not actively engaged in the duties of his office, the call boy will frequently beguile the tedium of the morning by a tete-a-tete with one of the most juvenile of the ladies attached to the ballet department, or exhibit his dexterity in terpsichoreau gyrations by indulging in Ethiopian break-downs in a secluded corner, in a selfish manner. The youthful designation awarded the subject of our sketch, is sometimes as much a misnomer as a similar one bestowed upon the individual who forms an important item in the domestic machinery of the country inn, and y'clept the post boy. He, and his companion of the sta- ble, not unfrequently exercise the duties of their office after they have for many years assumed the trying re- sponsibilities of parental honors ! We once knew a call boy who, in stature, was scarcely up to half a score ; but in feature, was any age you thought proper to fancy, from twenty to sixty. He was a good, simple-hearted little fel- loAV, much admired by the members of the company, par- ticularly the ladies, to whom he was the very Beau Brum- mel of politeness. He had a wife of herculean mould, and who added to her other accomplishments the charac- ter of the matrimonial martinet. I took occasion once to question Joe on the nature of his domestic relations, insinuating that I had no idea of finding his name entered upon the connubial list, from the attention he bestowed on the ladies — that his manners and deportment were of that attractive kind that, had I a daughter or female relation at a marriageable stage, I should be somewhat alarmed less his persuasive powers 142 rOOTLIGHT FLASHES. should tempt her to sever the tie that bound her to her childhood's home, and become his exclusive property at the hymeneal alter. " Oh ! that's all very well, and nice sort of talking ; but you see, sir," said my minute friend, " man can't help having the natural instincts of his race uppermost in his thoughts." " Decidedly," said I, " who dares to doubt one of ^MTa- ture's most peremptory laws." "Now, look here, sir," he continued, " I have a wife, it's true ; but, lor' bless you, there ain't not no congeniality of sentiment between us. She's a M^oman as is all self; she ain't got none of what you called, in that piece the other night, the ' essential oil of sympathy ' in her. Why, sir, I can't ever get a favorite meal's victuals when I want it. Only the other night 1 took home for supper a dish I'm passionately fond of — pig's fry, sir. Did you ever taste it?" " Oh yes," I replied. " "Well, sir, — would you believe it ? she threw it all into the street, and declared if I ever presumed to bring such rubbish into the house again she would most certainly pitch me after it ! She's a frightful jealous woman, too, sir, and so terrible unreasonable ! About a month ago I thought, as she was busy down stairs, that I would copy a letter I had to do for the first call in the morning. Af- ter finishing I placed it in my hat, intending to seal it at the theatre. I proceeded to indulge in my usual after- noon's nap, when I was suddenly aroused by a powerful blow over my head, which nearly stunned me. On com- ing to myself, I found her standing over me with the letter in her grasp, foaming with rage, and in the most violent terms charging me with the grossest impropriety in keep- ing up a correspondence with an individual called Jemima Stokes, because the letter was written in a loving strain FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 143 to a female of that name in the new farce vre did. I de- clared it meant nothing, and produced the manuscript, which she refused to look at, threw a chair at me, and be- haved altogether in the most dreadful manner possible. So you see, sir, what can a man do ? I believe in fulfilling one's destiny, sir. Now, I know, as all men must, that we are formed by nature to pay homage to the sex, and as I am debarred exercising that duty at home, by reason of my wife's infirmity of temper, why, sir, I consider the little bits of politeness I show the fair sex here, as we meet in our daily occupation, as part payment of that du- ty ; and I hope there will not be found a large balance of neglect against me in the next world. Did I call you, sir? dear me, really, I think the stage must be waiting for you, sir ? " If impressed with a desire to adopt the stage as a pro- fession, the call boy will occasionally be entrusted with parts adapted to his youthful appearance ; and it not un- frequently happens, in theatres where the number of util- ity, or small people, as they are called, are deficient, that the subject of our enquiry will be pressed into the ser- vice, to assist in the formation of a band of robbers, whose bronzed features, and thickly-set, hirsute appendages, (with the prescribed amount of deadly weapons,) con- trast strangely with his smooth skin, and slenderly-knit frame. Many of the very best actors the stage has produced, commenced their professional career in this capacity. Many, too, abandon it when they arrive at man's estate, and pass the balance of their days in the more profitable jjursuit of trade or commerce. In regard to my friend, Joe, I think it extremely prob- able that he will steadily cling to the Thespian temple, being too far propelled down the hill of time to adapt himself to any other mode of life. 144 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. His early history was a chequered one. It pleased Na- ture to construct hira on so economical a scale, that he was enabled to acquire a decent competence by gratify- ing the public appetite for sight-seeing, and exhibiting himself as a dwarf. Patronage flowed with acceptable celerity into his exchequer, until he had reached his six- teenth year. Up to that time he had been closely scru- tinized by the faculty, interrogated by the inquisitive, and admired by the curious. At that very impressible period of his career it pleased Nature, who had perhaps woke up to the unfertility of his mould, to suddenly make the reparation, and expand his longitudinal significance three inches and a quarter, in the short space of eighteen months. To this irrepar- able disaster was added the arrival from a distant land of a distinguished stranger, who was an adept at languages, living, and dead — and, without his shoes, measured six inches less than our friend's professional altitude prior to his recent growth. He quitted the field of instructive usefulness in disgust, seeking refuge in occasional attacks of alcoholic sentiment, conscious that his destiny had been most remorselessly evaded, and that his liliputian star had forever set. The eventful night for the production of the new piece arrives, and with it the family of the author ; who, to avoid the pressure of the crowd, are admitted at the stage door and escorted to a private box, where they are generally very conspicuous during the performance, with the trembling author in their rear, enduring the most poignant torture whenever an actor takes the liberty of substituting a line or word for which he is not responsi- ble. " Half an hour, ladies," roars the call-boy at the foot of the stairs leading to the dressing-rooms ; and after per- FOOTLIGIIT FLASHES. 145 forming the same office for the gentlemen, returns to the stage, where he takes a survey of the audience through a hole in the green curtain, till requested by the prompter to collect his properties for the first piece. The dressing rooms become a scene of the greatest confusion. The dressers are dispatched to the wardrobe to obtain a belt for one gentleman's dress ; another's doublet wont meet at the back, and has to be ripped up in consequence. The confidential friend, in social pleas- ure as well as inate villany, of the usurping Duke, has for- gotten his feathers. The walking gentleman's patience is getting exhausted, as he intimates to his dresser that he begins the piece ; and he, (the dresser) must be quick scav- ing those buckles into his shoes, or he cannot be ready when wanted. The ladies are in a similar predicament. Nobody has any large pins — while a most important article of cos- tume has been entirely forgotten in one instance ; the consequences of which would be most distressing if some substitute cannot be provided. The ingenuity of the sex, however, soon surmounts the difficulty, and the boy's voice is again heard, calling : "Ten minutes, ladies." If within the proximity of the music-room, you now, for the first time, experience a most unpleasant sensation of musical discords from the gentlemen who compose the orchestra. These paroxysms of internal suffiiring are per- severed in till the ringing of a small bell happily comes to the rescue ; and the instrumental performers emerge from a queerly constructed apartment, and doubling themselves up into the smallest possible compass, disap- pear into the orchestra, the leader somewhat varying the order of his nominal sobriquet, by tardily bringing up the rear, in the hope of receiving the recognition of the audience on taking his seat. 7 146 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. " Overture," calls the boy, and while that prelude takes place, let us in the course of our peregrinations enter the sanctum y'clept the MUSIC EOOM. This apartment cannot lay claim to much architectural elegance, being disproportioned in size, and deficient of the principles of ventilation to an oppressive degree. Its furniture consists of a long pine table, and two or three benches of a similar material. Depending from the walls are the hats and overcoats belonging to the band, while the cases in which they keep their instruments are scattered in every direction. The gas burner is in dan- gerous proximity to the roof, Mdiich is entirely innocent of plaster, and guarded from inevitable conflagration by a sheet of blackened tin. On the table is a pile of written music for the orches- tra — a small bottle of ink, a checker board, with some of the pieces missing, but their places supplied with brace buttons of nearly approximating colors — a pack of cards, a piece of rosin, a flute case, a pounce, or sand box, and a newspaper printed in the German language. Such is the apartment in which the gentlemen of the orchestra while away their spare time during the non- musical portion of the evening's entertainment — in which they take little or no interest — till summoned by the bell of the prompter to resume their duties. They are generally a quiet, unobtrusive race of men, with a love for their art, and the principles of harmony, highly creditable under the adverse fact of not being in receipt of a very handsome independence for the same, yet they always appear contented, and happy. The overture is hardly commenced, when the prompter is startled by the information conveyed by a female in a FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 147 great state of excitement, that Miss cannot possibly be ready because, in the nervousness of a first night's per- formance, the shoes, in which she purposes to enact her part, have been, by accident, left upon the dressing table at her private dwelling. The prompter, — by no means well disposed towards excuses of this nature, — insists that the curtain must rise at the end of the overture, that the lady is not in the first call, that she will have time to send for the missing articles, and that he shall not wait ; he is, however, not proof against the earnest entreaties of the handmaiden, and an interregnum occurs, which brincjs the manaofer from his office to know the reason of the delay. Prompter explains, manager requests that another messenger be dispatched forthwith ; that keeping the curtain down will be of serious injury to the new piece, etc., desires that the band play s'omething, and retires. Prompter calls down tin tube to leader, who turns back two or three pages, and repeats from the alle- gro movement ; the which he has scarcely commenced, when a boy very much overheated, bounds up three or four stairs at a time, with the missing shoes. The prompt- er is requested to go on — the overture is again conclud- ed, — prompter taps with the whistle on the tin tube communicating with the flies, rings a bell terminating in the same locality, and up goes the curtain. The first scene is somewhat short, and comprises a dis- sertion on Ethics and Moral Philosophy, by three retain- ers of the usurping baron, clearly proving the acute research of the author in the habits and education of the peasantry of the olden time. " Call up trumpet ! " says the prompter to the call-t)oy. The latter proceeds to the music-room to request the at- tendance of the gentleman who assumes the responsibili- ty of that sonorous instrument, and who at once placed himself in such a position readily seen by the prompter, 1-18 rOOTLIGHT FLASHES. when that individual shall require him to announce the approach of the Duke and his retinue, by a vigorous flourish. " Call two," says the prompter, sotto voce. "Yes, sir," says the boy, and repairs to the green- room, where he delivers himself after the following fash- ion. "Duke." "Strato." "Bertoldo." "Marco." "Eg- lantine." " 6 Men at Arms." " 6 Ladies." " 6 Pages." « 12 Guards." All for the Act. One of the men at arms is also the super-master ; whose duty it is to marshall them to their places, see they are properly costumed, etc. He may be very readily distin- guished from the advantage in dress he possesses over his companions ; indeed, he will often avail himself of the choice habiliments of the wardrobe, regardless of the wants of the principals, who will be startled to discover the lacquey better fitted than the master. Boy returns, and the prompter en- quires "if Jenkins is ready at the moon ? " This precaution is taken in order that the next scene, which is the Ducal Palace with a centre arch through which the moon is seen to shine, may not be discovered before that luminary makes her appear- ance. " All right, sir," responds the boy, after satisfying himself of the fact. The play turns out a success, de- spite the prediction of the bad part gentleman, and may probably keep the stage for some time. During its Moon Box. occupancy of the boards, let us assist at the rehearsals of its successor. FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 149 Behind the scenes of a theatre is not by any means the kind of place the dramatic spectator imagines it to be. You enter tlie stage door at the back, or side of the building, where you may, if the weather be cold, find the guardian of the premises refreshing himself Avith a peru- sal of the morning paper, by the warmth of the stove. This apartment has seldom an encouraging aspect to a stranger. It is neither profuse in its facilities for domes- tic comfort, nor distinguished for architectural elegance ; having in many instances, been surreptitiously appropri- ated from the general structure ; hence its irregular, and unartistic developement. The Flats. From the wall hangs a small case for posting up the call for rehearsals, an alphabetical rack for the reception of letters addressed to the members of the company ; — these, with a clock, two chairs, and a small table, com- plete the decorations. 150 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES, The stage itself does not possess much advantage in point of comfort over the apartment just noted, as you will readily find by pushing open the swing door to your left. The momentary blindness you at once experience when you are within its pi-ecincts, causes you to falter, lest you find yourself precipitated into some cavernous retreat, with which you feel assured the place abounds. You speedily get used to the darkness, and by the scan- ty light afforded from two or three small Avindows, near the roof, you are on the stage. Rehearsal has not yet commenced, and you have am- ple time to examine every part of the building minutely. The first thing that attracts your attention, is one of the carpenters, who is employed repairing the turret win- dow of the Duke's castle, — the said edifice being re- duced from its perpendicular grandeur, and lying flat on its back for that purpose. The scenery is pushed back as far as it will go in the slides, or grooves, so called, and presents in its compact mass, a strange admixture of regal magnificence, and squalid penury. My lady's boudoir is in closer proximi- ty to the laborer's cottage, than their desires are ever likely to as- similate in their journey through the actual voyage of life ; and the bright, cheerful landscape, redo- lent of unfettered liberty, stands side by side with the dungeon's dark, and dreary terrors, an inter- esting episode in our morning's peregrinations. "What are those long rows of formidable looking implements we see hanging on the walls? They are made of wood, mounted with iron hooks at one end, and cir- The Brace. rOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 151 cular boles at the other. Are they instruments of tor- ture ? They are called braces, and are used for sustain- ing the weight of cottages, trees, and set pieces of all kinds. Cast your eyes upward, and what a mass of cord- age meets your gaze. There are more ropes than would suffice for a A-essel of a thousand tons' register. They are used for sustaining the borders — the short pieces of painted canvas that form, to the eye of the spectator, the horizon, or ceiling, of the apartment represented. The Traveller. Elevated some distance above the borders is what is called the " traveller." This consists of a strong frame of wood work fixed into a grooved receiver ; by the aid of which fairies or demons are enabled to pass from side to side, while suspended by very stout wires. The gas man is employed cleaning the glasses belong- ing: to the lights which surmount the orchestra ; these are called "float lights." His duty is to take charge of the gas apparatus before, as well as behind the curtain. The sparkling waters, the transparent windows of the chapel, the pale moonbeams, are all indebted for their matchless effulgence, to the gas man. He disposes of his light to any given point by means of flexible tubes, some of which are, at the present mo- ment, stacked in a corner at the back of the stage. The stage itself, when not engaged in the exercise of its proper, and destined office, has a very forlorn and dreary aspect. 152 ' FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. Where are the splendid suits of furniture that we so much admired only last evening ? — the tapestry carpets, the dais of crimson velvet that carried us back to the period of the middle ages? Where are the rare-looking articles of virtu with which the scene was so profusely provided ? The property man, (for that is his depart- ment) has carefully stored them away in his room on one side of the stage ; while the carpet of such gorgeous pat- tern, is suspended by cords, and run up by pulleys, where it will be kept in a perpetual state of strangulation, till required for use in the evening. The walls which, from the auditorium, have impressed you with the conviction of their architectural beauty, are now seen destitute of the most primitive handicraft, and are in j^recisely the same condition as when delivered from the hands of their original depositors. Our recollection wanders back to the period of inno- cent infancy ; to the interesting occasion of the first play of the sensation order we ever witnessed. It was one of those intensely exciting romances, in which the four sea- sons of the year are represented. It is not easy to forget the joy we experienced when, relieved from the thraldom of scholastic tyranny, we watched the mechanical changes with which the drama was plentifully supplied. One section of the play conclu- ded with one of those brilliant displays of colored fire, without which a voracious audience would consider them- selves deprived of one of their greatest enjoyments. I remember trying an experiment with saltpetre, and some other combustible materials, much to the disgust and discomfiture of the family, who were almost suffocated with the nauseous efiluvia it emitted, and who couldn't comprehend the motive of the sulphurous visitation. Who, of my readers, has not witnessed the denoune- ment of a drama, wherein a ruffian in large boots, his FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 153 waistband plentifully supplied with huge pistols, has, by- some unaccountable means, gained access to the castle of the Baron, and is plainly seen ransacking his private papers by the light of the moon ; and subsequently, his figure is clearly discernible making a precipitate escape through the thick foliage of the trees, immediately preceding the discovery that the castle is in flames. How intense is the excitement, as the rightful heir to the estates, (who has been for years, by an ingenious contrivance of the dramatist, engaged in mercantile pursuits in a far distant land) suddenly presents himself, and at the risk of bis life, penetrates the blazing ruins ; and rescuing the title deeds of the estates intact and unharmed. Parlor theatricals have lately become the rage, partic- ularly in the eastern cities. The attempts have been chiefly confined to comedies, and pieces of a light, and colloquial character. It is scarcely to be expected that the sensation spirit of the age will slumber in the bosoms of histrionically inclined individuals. Heart-stirring and exciting dramas must speedily be the repertoire for the festive seasons of the year. The liberality of the present age is so remarkable, that a man has only to forward three postage stamps to A. B., to be immediately possessed of the secret of acquiring a speedy competence ; or for the trifling sum of twenty-five cents, an ingenious domestic economist will confer valua- ble hints whereby the entire expense of your household may be easily defrayed, at a saving of fifty per cent, upon the outlay you are at present disbursing. It may with equal certainty be expected, that some humane purveyor will ere long confer upon the wonder-loving public an ex- planatory volume of the means for parlor enjoyment, under the attractive title of " Every Man his own Stage- Manager." Should the instructions therein contained, fail to fur- 7* 154 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. nish the means to produce those thrilling effects modern taste craves, as indispensable to appease the general ap- petite, the following receipts, for presenting scenes, with all their illuminative brilliancy, may form an acceptable addenda to the evening's entertainment. For a conflragation of, RED EIRE. Strontia, 8 oz. Potash, 4 " Shellac, 2 " Licopodium, . i" For illuminating a hall of Statuary, make a W^HITE FIRE. Nitre, . 8 oz. Sulphur, . 3 " Charcoal, i" Alum, 1 ii. 'S Camphor i" Should the entertainment embrace an aquatic display, where fairies are holding their usual revelry, light them with a BLUE FIRE. Nitre, . . . 8 oz. Sulphur, . . . 3 " Charcoal, . . ^ " Antimony, . . 1 " If the Demon of Mischief holds his midnight orgies, surrounded by his attendant imps, in solemn conclave to strike terror into the bosom of the fair maiden whose des- tiny is under the supervision of the good fairy, provide them with an illumination composed of FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 155 GREEN FIRE. Nitrate of Barytes, , . 62|- parts Sulphur, .... 10|- " Potash, .... 23i " Orpiment, . . . • ^l" " Charcoal, ... ''■2" " When used, the fire is spread along the bottom of the fire box, composed of sheet iron, and ignited at one end. It is raised six or seven feet high at the sides, by which means a brilliant light is thrown upon every object within its reach. Immediately after use the pan should be placed in the open air or a bucket of water, to get rid of the smell, which is far from pleasant if extensively inhaled. The piercing cold of the icy regions form frequently a very important portion of the drama. The scenic artist depicts upon the canvas the glacial grandeur of a lati- tude of perpetual winter with as much fidelity as he traces the lurid intensity of the torrid zone ; but even here, the property man must render his assistance to com- plete the picture. The flakes of falling snow which, when pi'operly man- aged, so admirably decoy the spectator into a feeling of reality, are the result of a large quantity of cut white pa- pers placed in a box elevated several feet above the bor- ders over the stage. This box is about four feet long, and three feet broad ; it is sustained by two ropes — one from either side, left tolerably loose. On one side is a pole at- tached, whereby the property man, or his assistant, has a perfect command over the box, and by keeping it in mo- tion is enabled to shake the paper through the bottom, Avhich is only protected by wire placed in such a position, that it is easily scattered in such a way as to strew the stage with the counterfeit snow. This is called the "Snow Box." 156 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. By the side ot the stage, and not far from the promp- ter's box, is a light burning in a small nook, or cupboard ; we enter and find there the property man in a canvas apron and drab felt hat. He is busily employed repairing a trun- cheon by covering the fractures with gilt paper : and while he is thus engaged we will take a survey of the place set apart for his use. Although dignified by the appellation of property room, its disproportioned aspect would fully jus- tify the conclusion that the stranger might arrive at, by more fitly designating it as a cupboard, in which its jjroprie- tor stored curiosities of the past and present ages. The most noticeable of the articles contained in this labora- tory are, one dozen combat swords, used generally for actions on board ship, a stack of muskets for the soldiery, two or three ash cudgels with cords fastened on one end only, (these are so fashioned for the seciue binding of re- fractory ruffians, or for the simple hearted peasant, who most obdurately refuses to divulge his family secrets,) a few purses, of various colors, containing tokens to repre- sent money, so lavishly bestowed by nabobs and others of unlimited wealth. In one corner of the second shelf is scattered loosely a quantity of artificial flowers; a drum hangs from the roof with the sticks belonging to it protruding from its sides. A guitar with two strings wanting, a set of cruets, a pile of horn drinking cups, two brown pitchers, a few common cups and saucers, a riding-whip, and a ratan. On the upper shelf we perceive baskets of fruits of curious de- vices, with goblets to correspond, such as are required to assist at the festivities of the heir to his baronial estates; four pieces of sheet iron, formed like a trough with a handle in the centre, for the burning of colored fires, as already described. A caldron, and tripod for gipsy rev- elry, occupies an obscure corner, while one of the draw- ers contains a pack of cards, two sets of dice, and boxes. rOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 157 The Property Room. 158 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. a pipe, a bunch of skeleton keys, a do. of full-bodied ones, a clasp knife, two daggers, a piece of chalk, a tape meas- ure, and two or three ends of tallow candle. The other is a receptacle for two table covers, a few sheets of writing paper, a screw-driver, and a pair of scissors. In a nook, almost obscured from view by two disguis- ing cloaks, hang three pair of convict fetters, in close company with a bundle of stuffed sticks, such as are in- dispensably necessary to exhibit the hilariousness of the Hibernian character, according to the infallible dicta of the modern dramatist. The above is the spot where small articles in constant use are stored. In another part of the building we will presently inspect the workshop, where the property man manufactures the several things he requires, leaving the distribution of them upon the stage to his assistant, who presides over the place we have just quitted. We cannot possibly avoid observing, as we retire from our late enquiry, that we have passed the box where the prompter at the evening's performance stations himself with book and desk, his finger on the passage as it is spoken, and his eye upon the speaker. An office of great trust is that of prompter. He should have a toler- able good education ; and be somewhat skilled in herald- ry, in order to check any inaccuracy the property man may commit, in jDlacing banners and furniture upon the stage unsuited to the country, or period. Gas Dial. FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 159 What a myriad of bells, and tubes he seems to have at his command. Can he need them all ? Oh, yes, without these, the machinery of the department could not be con- ducted. No action of any kind can take place until he gives the signal. Near his right hand is a dial plate with keys regulated by stops that can govern the gas to the minutest nicety in every part of the house. The bells and tubes communicate in a similar manner. These are in a row in front of him, and are marked thus. Orches- tra, Trcqjs, lilies, Drop, Curtain. The trap bell conveys the information to carpenters under the stage that an as- cent, or descent is to be made. The first ring is called the warning, the second to work the trap, which is done T7ie Trap Open. by a windlass manned by the carpenters, if it be an ascent, if a descent, an artificial trap is placed under the aperture made in the stage, and the object to disappear sinks by means of a counterweight, the carpenters instantly closing 160 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. up the trap with the original piece, which slides into its place and is secured. The Trap Closed. The bell for the drop is used only at the end of an act of a play, the one for the curtain at the end of the play itself The bell terminating in the flies, where the curtain is worked responds in like manner to the du- ties required of it ; and thus the or- der and regularity, ■where the promp- ter is thoroughly an adept at his art, which we see only in well conducted theatres. The Curtain Windlass. FOOTLIGnX FLASHES. IGl Before we shift our quarters, let us explain that the cir- cular box with a cord attached in two places and elevated above the head of the promj)- ter, is the " rain box." It has a goodly quantity of peas inside : its position being shifted by the ropes, the peas rattle towards the bottom, meeting in their coui-se Avith small wooden pegs, against which they clatter, and give the best, and most perfect imi- tation of rain that can be well imasjined. One of the two other ropes you see, works the large cathedral bell ; and the other, a conti'ivance for the re- presentation of thunder, similar to the " rain box," except The Rain B0X. Tfie Thunder Drwn. that the box is long, instead of being round, is minus the pegs, and placed with a cannon ball inside, as near the roof of the building as possible. Some theatres still use a sheet of thin iron, hung where the prompter can conveniently shake it ; but it has a me- tallic reverberation, not to be compared in effectiveness to 162 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. the plan above described. If we add a knocker to the fixtures belonging to the prompter, we have noted all his professional paraphernalia. In some secure nook not very distant from the stage is the office of the manager. A small, cheerful, cozy place it is, with an easy chair near the fire, and in one corner two or three pieces of expensive statuary, that have been borrowed for the play at present before the public, and placed there for safety in the day time, when not in use. On the table are some open letters, from writers burn- ing with a desire to elevate the dignity of dramatic art. One has just completed, " a play in seven acts, upon an entirely new, and original model, which he desires at the very earliest opportunity to read for approval. The work had already received the very highest encomiums from distinguished private friends of taste and discrimi- nation, and he, the author, cherishes a hope that the day is not far distant when the high and classic drama may break the bonds of modern innovation, and bursting with new-born greatness upon the millenium of ancient versifi- cation, stand colossal-like, at the very portals of our pri- vate homes." Another, is from a lady " Who had, at the eai-nest re- quest of several friends, consented at this festive season of the year to join them in some dramatic representations of a strictly private nature ; but whose intuitive ease and talent so astounded the company, that it was imme- diately voted by every one present, that to longer remain within the seclusion of private life would be an act of positive insanity on her part, as well as gross injustice to the public in general." There is also one, written with a troubled spirit, and a trembling hand ; how difierently couched. She who traced those lines was once the idol of the public, and in FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 163 the erijoyinent of position, and esteemed second to none. In the hey-day of her professional career, she looked with an eye of indifference on the members of her own pro- fession who sought her hand. She bestowed it upon one she believed, from his social distinction and private means? competent to guard her thi-ough the world, in happiness and comfort. Like many others, she has long since awakened to the painful reality that she has united her fate with one who has no sympathy M'ith her avocation, no sorrow for her sufferings. At all times greedily anx- ious for the emolument obtained from his wife's exertions, he despises the source from whence it is derived ; and readily construes the slightest acts of kindness tendered by her professional brethren, as a violation of his mari- tal rights ! The money she acquired when the bloom of youth and beauty mantled upon her cheek, has long since been squandered upon profitless speculation, or spent for the support of a rapidly increasing family, and she is now driven to the extremity of soliciting an appointment in the theatre at any terms, to avert the dangers of actual poverty. This is no overcharged picture. The pallid cheek, the sunken, blood-shotten eye, reveal a fearful tale of profes- sional hope blighted by uncongenial marriages. Turn we now to the room we are examining, and we shall find it, if not very elegant, at least to contain a mod- erate proportion of comfort. A few pictures of the ac- tors of a past age, Avith others at present in the meridian of their popularity, adorn the walls ; while over the chim- ney piece, occupying the post of honor, hangs the like- ness of the mellifluous bard, who has, with his magic pen, elevated dramatic poetry to the highest apex of human greatness. The piles of two or three past seasons' bills hang convenieatly for reference ; one or two manuscripts 16'1: FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. and the last printed copy from the London dramatic pub- lisher, complete the list of items worthy of notice. As we quit the apartment, the scenic artist passes, and confers upon us the compliments of the morning. Let us follow the bent of our enquiry, and ascend to the sanc- tum of the gentleman who has just mounted towards the roof, and whose footsteps are still distinctly heard in the distance. You are suffering with another temporary attack of blindness, therefore have a care how you feel your way up the tortuous flight of stairs at the very back of the stage ; and where you cannot resist thinking, if fortune had favored you with architectural ability, it is the last spot you would select to build such a structure. After smashing your hat twice, and grazing your shins the same number of times, you reach the flies where, at the very back of the building, you find THE PAINT ROOM. The presiding spirit of the region has denuded himself of some of his wearing apparel, and now appears in a suit of canvas, tastefully sprinkled with spots of paint of every possible tint, the which give him somewhat the semblance of a human leopard. He has however, no affinity in dis- position with the beast he in some measure resembles, being docile, and tractable to a singular degree. He is a great lover of his art, and enjoys a conference with any who will talk with him, on the choice pictures in the sea- son's exhibition, those the visitor has seen in the Louvre of Paris, or the National Gallery in London, and prom- inent works in collections nearer home. His boy is busily engaged grinding colors, while the artist himself is selecting from various brown pots, the different ones already fit for use, for a scene now upon the frame, and wanting only the last few finishing touches. FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 165 Paint Hoom. 166 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. The frame is the machine upon which the rough canvas is placed by the carpenters below, when it is first made by them, and raised by means of a windlass to its present position, where it will remain till fit for the public gaze, when it will be lowered by the similar means that raised it. This department is very well lighted by day from windows at the back of the building. At night it has two rows of gas-burners down the centre, with a reflector to throw the light upon the canvas. See how rapidly the artist disposes of the colors ; you are astonished, and wonder how such apparently careless work can produce a pleasing result, when viewed from the auditorium, A cupboard with the door open reveals to us all this place contains. There we find a few rough sketches in charcoal, principally of gothic arches and pediments ; a model in card-board of the last scene in a fairy extrava- ganza; some paint brushes, a meershaum pipe, a pair of overalls, a few numbers of a work treating on the art of painting, and an illustrated newspaper of a recent date. These, with a stone, a keg of size, and some fancy sketches of several members of the company, their weak points most liberally rendered by the artist, form the chief fea- tures of a place very rarely intruded upon by outsiders, whose curiosity is generally confined to the stage alone. In beating a retreat from this locality, your danger is perhaps a little more imminent than you imagine. Hold on tight to the not very secure banister, or you will be precipitated forward with such velocity as will fix the circumstance upon your memory for some time to come. If you achieve the first landing in safety you will find yourself in close proximity with the room where the PROPERTY MAN fashions every conceivable article, from a walking cane to an elephant. FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 167 If republics be notoriously ungrateful, as the world in- sists they are, shall the subject of our sketch dare to wail over his neglected condition, when the play-going public, despite the information it constantly receives from those models of veracity — the play-bills — seldom or ever cast a thought upon the individual, who, in the "boudoir of my lady, the countess," has fashioned the furniture of ex- quisite workmanship, or illumined the fairy in tights as she ascends gracefully through a dazzling vista to tortu- ous clouds in the realms of bliss. A good, and efG.cient projyerty man is an indispensable adjunct to a well regulated theatre. One of this kind is preparing to mix the ingredients for a counterfeit erup- tion of Vesuvius, as we enter. He has received instruc- tions from the manager to be preparing the necessary stuff for a great sensational spectacle for the holidays. Ihe Goblin Father is to eclipse all former efforts in the splendor of its production. Before him is a fanciful pro- trait of his Satanic majesty, taken at a time when his diges- tion was not in a very satisfactory condition, if we are to judge by his facial uneasiness, but to which he must oc- casionally refer while fashioning a truthful resemblance of that gentleman in clay, prior to completing his medaliou in papier mache. Near the stove, and supported by a barrel of plaster of Paris, are the heads of the dreadful monarch's body-guard, a dozen in number, who have just received their final layer of color, and whose visages stand out from their white surroundings with the rubicund intensity of a practised glutton after a hearty meal ; and as the crackling wood illumines their faces, would, if they were endowed with the power of speech, roar out, " Ha ! Ha ! Go it, old boy ! Blaze away, we're used to it. You can't roast us." Around the walls hang implements of warfare, from the combat sword of the valiant sailor, to the cimeter 1G8 FOOTLIGIIT FLASHES. of the ferocious Turk. Stacked in one corner, leans the armory of the establishment, while under the window stands the buck-basket for Falstaff in the " Merry Wives of Windsor," if not in that state of profuse per- spiration described by that ton of humor, at least ovei'- crowded with every conceivable article for stage use. A hazardous experiment is this property room to pere- grinate in ; a large bench, such as is used by carpenters, occupies the center of the apartment ; move a little to the right, and you upset a large glue-pot ; turn to the left, and your head is certain to come in contact with a tem- porary shelf supported only by small cords, the contents of which will immediately shower down, crowning you most unceremoniously with a helmet of the mediaeval ages ; avoiding that, you are face-to-face with the habili- ments in which the jDareut of the Prince of Denmark takes his nightly stroll. You are thus placed in a similar predicament to the inhabitant of a rural district who, after several futile at- tempts to thread the mazes of Broadway without acci- dent, finally gave up the design in despair, and consigned himself to his fate. Respectable elderly females, to whom railway guides are a profound mystery, would find here sharp practice for their ingenuity, if they attempted to divine the purposes for which the heterogeneous mass of articles within this sanctum are intended ; a marine or junk dealer's, is a well ordered collection when com- l^ared with it. Pending the production of a gorgeous spectacle, our hero will often take his moals in this dramatic laboratory, (when he can find leisure to eat it,) the same being con- veyed to him by his daughter, a buxom girl of some six- teen summers, and who has probably commenced her professional novitiate in the representation of pages, or attendants on the aristocracy of the classic drama. FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 169 He may be seen occasionally on tlie stage during re- hearsal, when specially suranionecl by the manager, the call boy being dispatched to request his attendance for a moment. After receiving some instruction in relation to the forth-coming novelty, he will, in his slippered feet, glide away to his work-shop, conferring the compliments of the morning, and leaving behind him a strong flavor of glue, with a plentiful show of Dutch metal, particles of which brilliant decorative substance, stand boldlv out in meteoric splendor upon his whiskers, as he disappears. We descend to the back of the stage, and for the first time observe another queerly constructed place. By the dim light we perceive we are in the carpenter''s room. It is Vifac simile of the small room above, and boasts lit- tle, or nothing of interest. There are two shelves, upon which are scattered tools of every kind, fVom the gimlet to the centre-bit. Small brown paper parcels with light green labels lay about in various directions ; some of these are empty, while from the rest, nails and screws of various sizes protrude. A two foot rule, and one or two ar- ticles of wearing apj^arel coraj^lete the display, and we again encounter the call boy, who is preparing for the re- hearsal. As a general principle, this youth entertains not the slightest concern at your professional discomfit- ure if pressed for time to acquire the words of a part, but will, with an intense degree of gratification, shout at you while you are reading over your next scene, that you are waited for. Only keep your eye upon him in the evening when Mr. Battledore, the eccentric comedian, gets into the most interesting portion of his pet story about a pic-nic ; where a bear, or a bufialo, he seems hardly to know which, came down upon the company in the midst of their repast, and after poking its nose into everything, finished by gob- 8 170 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. bling up a giblet pie, and a young lady's straw hat with green ribbons. Observe the delight he takes in catting short tlie story witli a suggestion that "the stnge has been waiting nearly five minutes, and he dont think the audience care much for a longer delay." When what is termed a " stage wait " occurs, it arises from one or two causes, viz., either the boy has forgotten to make the call, or the party called has neglected to res- pond to it. Every frequenter of a theatre must have observed an occasional mishap of this kind when, after a tedious de- lay, the delinquent, in his eager haste to reach the scene, will appear from the opposite direction his presence was expected. It was just past eleven, and tl\e company are arriving^ those having, the least to do being generally in the rear of the principals. Ten minutes' grace is allowed for the first call, (not for any other) and punctually at the end of that time the prompter directs the boy to " call one," and the rehearsal commences. It is the duty of the stage manager to be present dur- ing this time, to assist by his experience the more natural method of overcoming any difiiculties that may present themselves. With established actors, whose position in the public esteem rank them as adepts in their art, the busi- ness they may feel disposed to adopt is generally acced- ed to by the above named official. It is most difficult to appear graceful upon the stage* without a large amount of practice. The gentlemen who play the small parts are called back several times, and impressed with the necessity of speaking more distinctly, and infusing more grace into their actions. The play in rehearsal embj-aces characters for the fol- lowing performances, viz. " Leading Man. " " Light Comedian. " " First Old Man." FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 171 « Second Old Man." "Walking Gentleman." "Heavy Man." "Utility Man." "Leading Lady." "First Walk- ing Lady." « First Old Woman." " Singing Chamber- maid." The above are the technical appellations by which the members of the profession understand the several desig- nations of the characters they are called upon to enact. The duties of each are as follows : The Leading 3fan, is the personifier of the principal characters in tragedy, as well as some of the more seri- ous ones in comedy ; as, Mr. Oakley, in the "Jealous Wife," Lord Townley in the " Provoked Husband," etc. The Light Comedian., is the representative of the fine gentleman of the old school, as Charles Surface, in the *• School for Scandal," and others of a more modern date, who stand prominently forward in the play. The First Old Man., clearly defines itself. They are such parts as aged characters where they assume a similar significance with the principals of other lines of business ; if not, they are only second old 'men. The Walking Gentlennan, is he who enacts all the young men in all sorts of pieces, — youths for whom the young ladies of the drama have a preference, despite the opposition of their parents. The Utility Jfa)i, must appear in any thing for which he is cast, the stage manager being the judge of his fit- ness for the positions in which to place him. The Leading Ladg, plays all the prominent charac- ters of the drama of the serious kind. Such is however the power of their influence in a theatre, that they not unfre- quently absorb many of the comic parts likewise. The First Walking Ladg, is she who must play the parts in both tragedy and comedy that are not claimed by the leading, and the second lady, and has also charge of some very prominent ones in farces. 172 rOOTLIGHT FLASHES. First Old Woman takes the same relation in the al- lotment of parts as the first old man. The Singing Chambermaid is not necessarily obliged to enact chambermaids only, but appears in all the Sou- brettes^ and is called singing chambermaid, to specify her musical capability, and in distinction to those who are not in possession of that accomplishment. People who mix in society can very easily observe the variable and totally opposite phases of character frequent- ly to be met with in members of the same family. The theatre is no exception to this rule. You have indeed a better opportunity of judging of the peculiarities of the members of the sock and buskin than that of any other pursuit. They are thrown so much in each other's society that there is necessarily an absence of some of the re- straint Avhich is not observable in many other professions, or callings. Here is a most highly respectable gentleman. He takes charge of some of the old men. He is an excellent hus- band and father, and his manner is bland and affable. He will recount to you how, when attached to the naval service of his country he, in spite of orders from the commanding officer, intercepted the approach of the ene- my's long boat, whereby (having succeeded) he was re- warded with a pair of epaulettes, and the favorable men- tion of his name and exploits at the war department. He will delight to repeat the conversation he had on the subject, many years after the date of the transaction, while on board a steamer on the Mississippi river, with General Scott, and how that great man and good* sol- dier had assured him that " never, throughout the whole of his military career, had he met with a man whose courage he more admired as an officer, or whose convi- vial accomplishments as an individual, had left so deep an impression upon him." FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 173 Some people are addicted to hallnciuations, and our friend has one which subjects him to much badinage, and some little abuse, from a few of the members of the com- pany. For years it has been his pi'actice to purchase a certain number of lottery tickets every month ; and although he has never yet been fortunate enough to hit upon the lucky numbers, he still clings to the idea that the day will come that shall see him rewarded for all his anxiety and disap- pointment. "Such has been my conduct through life," he will often say, " that I am certain, despite the many reverses to which I have been for years subjected, my lucky star will one day be in the ascendant." Long after the last auditor has departed, and the tramp of the night watchman reverberates throughout the build- ing, in the deep solitude of sleep will he behold visions of lucky numbers flitting before his expectant gaze. Se- cretly will he register in his mind the numerical treasure ; stealthily will he eflfect the purchase that is to repay him for all previous suffering ! anxiously does he await the re- sult, to be again deceived. The Heavy Man^ has just undisguisedly expressed it as his candid opinion, that his old friend must be cracked. No man in his senses would ever run the extreme risks he did, if he was not in that unfortunate condition. " Why, sir," he says, turning to the second walking gentleman, " It's not above a month since I was ass enough to join him in a walk after rehearsal ! I never Avas so ashamed in all my life. Wliat do you think he did ? " " Can't guess," rejoins the party addressed. " Guess, no ! I should think not. I'll be shot if he didn't take a fancy to the number on a policeman's cap, and followed him two blocks, with pencil in hand, in 174 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. order to obtain it. The guardian of the peace very nat- urally felt indignant, and demanded to know what he had done to have a memorandum made of his nnmber ! Of course he couldn't explain that it was only his lottery lu- nacy, and the issue was that we were passed through tliree or four beats by these blue coated gentlemen, and dogged everywhere for the balance of the morning." The call boy chimes in at the end of this anecdote, that the manager would like to see Mr. , the Heavy Man, presently, in his office. Heavy Man refreshes himself with a coj)ious pinch of snuff, and obeys the summons. " Come in," says the manager, in his blandest tones, as the Heavy Man knocks at the door with the head of his cane ; accepting the invitation, they are speedily face to face. " Take a seat, Mr. " " Heavy man bows, and does so." " Excuse me for one or two moments, will you, if you please ? " Affecting to have the weight of empires on his head. Heavy Man bows again, says " certainly " and fixing his eyes on the portrait of Shakspeare, thinks if he had the assistance of the wig and beard, he should A'ery much re- semble the bard ; and it would not be a bad idea to con- coct a piece for that purpose for his next benefit. Stage manager has pretended to write a letter, dur- ing this brief interval, and is now prepared for the at- tack. " Oh ! by the way, Mr. , here is a manuscript I wish you would be good enough to look over. There are two heavy parts in it, one of them very troublesome and of an unusual length. The author was here this morn- ing, and seems determined to drag me into the play. I have quite enough to think of, I'm sure, without the FOOTLIGIIT FLASHES. 175 trouble of studying long parts, but this gentleman has a very large ami wealthy connection. His name stands well in the best literary circles, and he can influence the houses greatly. I thought that — seeing the position in which I am placed, you would perhaps not object to look over the other part. You will find it short, and pleasant, and I am sure you can make it one of the chief features of the pieces." Heavy man, not being well able to resist the compli- ment, and further, not having the same rapid facility for study he formerly possessed, consents at once, " Says he doesen't care, if Mr. , the stage manager, thinks it advantageous to the strength of the repi'esentations, he would be the last man to contend against a result so de- sirable." The manager thanks him, offers him the privilege of an order for two friends for that evening, with a strict in- junction not to mention the presentation to any of the company, wishes him good morning, and as the door con- cealed him from view, inwardly congratulates himself upon his tact and diplomacy, and appropriates the heavy man's part to himself. All the ladies of the Ballet are about to assemble, and some of them have already arrived. There are two so much alike, that they must be sisters. One is aged seven- teen, and the other fifteen. They are fatherless, and are the chief support of their mother and a younger brother, who is a helpless cripple. Their history is somewhat sad. Their father commenced his career with good busi- ness prospects ; but false friends, competition of a for- eign market, with the combination of events that invari- ably press upon the needy, overwhelmed him ; till at length that universal panacea for all ills, death, came to the rescue, and bore his troubled spirit where it could 176 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. enjoy that tranquility it had long been a stranger to. Left without the means of support, the little knowledge of dancing imparted to them in their infancy, afforded an opportunity for a scanty subsistence. It is whispered that the elder one is about to be married to a very worthy young man w^ith good prospects in life. By this time the ladies are nearly all in dancing cos- tume, and the solitary violin in the orchestra is indulging in rapid ascents and descents of the chromatic scale, till called upon by the BALLET MASTER to begin. A crowd of young girls present themselves, and if ever you entertain the slightest doubt of the fal- lacy of the belief that they are of the weaker sex, your misgivings are at once dispelled. No stalwart pioneer of the masculine gender could habit himself in the same limited amount of clotliing, and keep free from cold and rheumatism. The stage has just been watered, to prevent their slip- ping. Their shoes are very thin in the uppers, and a trifle thinner in the soles ; they are of various colors, pink being the favorite tint. They are somewhat dirty (the shoes) and have been, when new, used for evening per- formances, but are now, with the addition of two or three layers of darning cotton latticed across the toes, pressed into service for rehearsals. Their skirts have an etherial, gauzy look, profuse in circumference, but extreme- ly contracted in a longitudinal direction. A jacket, some- times fitting closely to the figure, at others worn loosely, with the hair well secured, completes the toilet. The principal female dancer is going through a series of gymnastics in the rear, that would dislocate the limbs of one unskilled in the art of dancing. It consists of form- ing rapid circles ; first with one foot, then with the other, FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 177 Ballet at Behearsal. 178 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. finishing by tu.rn\ng piJ'oueUes, after raising one leg to a level with the comb at the back of her head. " Now zen, come," shouts the ballet master. " Ladies, vy you no make haste, shall I not vait here all day for you ? Dis is too pad altogether." This gentleman has been twenty years in this country, and asserts that be was born in the city of Paris, w^here his father was a man of great military distinction, and his mother one of the belles of the French capital. Some of his professional brethren have, with the natural jealousy which talent always inspires, insisted that Belfast in the North of Ireland, has the honor of his nativity. Talent is of no country; but it is a singular fact, worthy of observation, that while our friend, the Maitre de Ballet has for so many years been an adept at all the luxuries of a foreign locality, he rather retrogrades in his knowl- edge of the language. If we were in his confidence, he would probably let us into the secret that, having dis- covered the bent of the public inclination, he was w^ illing to jDander to the belief so universally entertained by the masses, that no man can possibly excel in the Terpsicho- rian art if he speak the English language with any degree of fluency. " Now zen if you please," turning to the instrumen- talist . "All ready, go along zen." The violin has only uttered a few bars, when it is sud- denly silenced by the slapping of the ballet master's hands, and requesting Miss J to change her manner of using the right arm. " You no graceful at all ! Zis is ze way," placing his rotund figure in an attitude, by way of exemplification. They make another start, and after a few more similar mishaps, the principal danseuse goes through her solos, the corps de ballet close in upon her, form a graceful centre FOOTLTGHT FLASHES. 179 piece, with scarfs elevated above her head, and they are dismissed with an admonition to be punctual in the morn ing, and not forget the instructions given them. The vioUnist packs up his instrument, and departs for some resort congenial to his nature. If he be of Teuton- ic origin, his desires tend towards a spot redolent of the habits and customs of that numerous and thrivinsc race. If the balmy breath of Italy fanned his infant brow, he may be met surrounded by professors of the art for which that charming climate has been for ages distinguished. If of native growth, he may, not unlikely, in his hours of leis- ure blend the exercise of the commercial with the musical, the cares, and interests of which former will be, in his absence, presided over by his wife. There perhaps, in a thickly populated part of the city, will his partner be seen adding to their little competence. One of the most im2:>ortant periods in dramatic life is the day on which the salaries are disbursed, and is called SALARY DAY At about twelve o'clock on every seventh play day from the opening of the season, does this highly interesting epoch arrive ; six nights constituting a week. The ohoiee spirits of the theatre term this the day on which the Ghost walks. And the question will frequently be put from one to another in an affected sepulchral tone, wheth- er "That thing hath appeared." The Treasurer, prior to the hour for liquidating the weekly claims, folds up the amount due to each, writing the name of the recipient on the outside, who signs a book to the effect that he, or she, has been put in possession of the money due to that date. A code of laws ai*e drawn up in every Theatre for the enforcement of promptness in business, thus : Absence from rehearsal without proper notice to the 180 rOOTLIGHT FLASHES. prompter, subjects the transgressor to a graduated forfeit of from twenty-five cents to a dollar. The profession are in general very attentive, with few exceptions, to this necessary duty, and the forfeits are but seldom enforced. If carelessness is likely to take a chronic form, the manager resorts to the following notice, viz : The manager regrets to observe an inertness on the part of the members of the company, which is extremely prejudicial to the conduct of the establishment ; therefore is reluctantly compelled to direct attention to the rules and regulations of the Tlieatre, the terms of -which will be most rigidly enforced, without distinction, fi:om this date. By order of the manager Prompter. This notice has the desired effect. Those who are rep- rehensible, taking the hint. As the season progresses, the peculiarities incident to every community, begin to present themselves. Some of the ladies of the ballet have a propensity for literature of the sensation order, while all are profusely ingenious in the knitting department. They beguile their spare time at rehearsals with the latter, to a great extent. Not Qnly do the parties above named indulge in this practice, but those of the more prominent of the sex frequently devote much time to a similar pursuit. THE SOUBEETTE. After partaking of a hearty and hastily dispatched breakfast, this young lady departs for rehearsal — prob- ably reaching the theatre just too late for her first scene. If the prompter suggests, as he most likely will, that a little more punctuality would be desirable for the better conduct of business, the soubrette will insinuate that she is never by any possibility behind her time — that the clock at home is a model of mechanical exactness, and FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 181 would be a shining example for the one provided for the green-room, it being an undisputed fact that a timepiece furnished for that apartment never had, from the dawn ot the ancient drama, properly performed its functions. That time honored institution, the British Beadle, is considered by acute judges of his habits and customs, to feel the dignity and importance of his significance, even when not decorated with the official ermine. The sub- ject of our present enquiry has in like manner, become equally identified with the piquancy of the waiting maid, who, on the stage, is received into the sacred con- fidence of their employer's daughters, therefore seldom accepts an admonition from the promj^ter in a spirit of content, or thankfulness. This is, however, expanded or diminished in proportion to the position she may, by the influence of her professional ability, occupy in the esteem of a generous public. When buoyed up by this conviction, the soubrette is not slow to impart to a congenial female spirit, " that she has no desire for Mr. the prompter, to dictate to her an inventory of the duties for which she is engaged ; that she believes — for who shall gainsay it ? — that she thoroughly knows her business, and don't thank him for directing special attention to her because the manager is within hearing ; while he is ever willing to regard with a lenient eye, the constant derelictions of Miss , who is retained for the exposition of young ladies of the youth- ful and romantic kind." This scathing charge is usually delivered with a nega- tive significance ; but its effect is clearly comprehended by him Avho, if he perform liis duty faithfully, is seldom much admired by the sex whom we are taught to regard as man's greatest blessing. Having disposed of her part of the dialogue of the play, together with the acrimony which this little incident 182 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. has begotten, tlie soubrette joins a small knot of ladies who are seated in the green-room, busily occupied in manu- facturino; indefinite lookinof arran2;ements for the adorn- ment of part of the habiliments of the sex concealed from the vulgar gaze, and enters into a sweeping condemnation of the whole race of prompters, breaking off in the mid- dle of the tirade with a request to know where Miss J purchased the cotton she is using, for she — the soubrette — had ransacked every store in town, no later than yes- terday, in search of some of that consistency, without success. The gentleman retained for the comic department, now enters, and after offering the compliments of the morn- ing to the ladies, suggests to Miss the soubrette, that it will be desirable for them to try over the new duet they are to sing in the forthcoming drama ; a proceeding to which the lady addressed readily assents, but suddenly remembers, that in her hurry to attend that shameful ten o'clock rehearsal, she has left the score upon the piano in her sitting room. The comic gentleman being summoned for the rehear- sal of a scene, the soubrette enters into a most elaborate description of a new pattern of knitting she has just culled from the Ladies' Magazine, the which is received with much interest, till the gentlemen have quitted the room, whereupon she moves an adjournment to a more secluded spot, where she may impart to her hearers the contents of a most passionate epistle but recently re- ceived from some unknown source. A young lady, veiy much heated from her recent exertions in a/»a5 de deux, susfcrests one of the dressinsr rooms. No one offering: an amendment to this proposal, the party make their way to that retreat, encountering at the door of the apart- ment a slatternly person of their own sex, but of what complexion it is difficult to decide. This is one of the POOTLIGHT FLASHES. 183 cleaners, whose professional avocation evidently affords no leisure for the exercise of her ability upon herself. The door being well secured from intruders, our hero- ine produces a tender epistle, couched in the most poetic strain, wherein the afflicted writer " has seen but to adore her! with ample means, and a heart overflowing with the worthiest considerations, he is madly desirous to link the destinies of two natures which, he felt assured would, on a more intimate knowledge of each other, vi- brate with the most ardent sentiments. A record of the melancholy wreck a cruel silence would inevitably pro- duce, might be nightly observed seated in one of the stage boxes, with a small white rose decorating his button- hole, where he would be faithfully posted so long as his natural functions remained in a sufiiciently quiescent condition to enable him to leave his bed. A state of his position would thus be readily obtainable by all who had the curiosity, or charity to enquire, and when his manly essence was so far depressed as to preclude the possi- bility of his presence in his accustomed spot, it might be taken for granted he was seeking repose to his agonised spirit upon that couch in whose embrace he would nestle with the resignation of a blighted being, and the unhappy victim of a too confiding nature, which an acutely delicate organization w^ould not permit him to subdue." It not nnfrequently happens that these precious mis- sives are posted in the green-room for the amusement of the company. The hapless author" regarding the atten- tion bestowed upon his person by the artists of the eve- ning, as a consequent curiosity upon his being the chosen one of her whose seclusion is impertinently invaded by the heartless roue^ or the unprincipled adventurer. The lady of whom we speak has been destined by the hand of nature to occupy an elevated position in the calendar of beauty, as a brunette. She holds, however, 184 rOOTLIGHT FLASHES. the object of the original intention as inimical to modern reqviirements, and by the aid of cosmetics would convert herself into a blonde, — the prospects of achieving a satis- factory result are rather vague and unsuccessful. The rehearsal over, the soubretto, and two of the la- dies, depart to purchase small articles for their sex's use, and during their walk dilate upon the most becoming tints with which to decorate the new boddice now in course of construction for the stage, with an occasional outburst of indignation on some of the last fashions, the head-gear generally demanding the greatest attention, till they sep- arate for their respective dwellings. After dinner she proceeds to arrange plateaus of rib- bon of variegated hues, in double file around an apron of pink silk, with extremely contracted pockets, the same in which she carries her hands while indulging in repartee with the head of the family in whose service she is supposed to be employed as a domestic, and whose equanimity she somewhat ruffles by her very free definition of the rights and liberties of the female race. Toward evening, her preparations being completed for the performance, she reclines upon a sofa, or easy chair, and carefully peruses the words of the character entrusted to her by the dramatist ; and about an hour prior to the rising of the curtain, sallies forth, satchel in hand, to take part in an underplot with a flaxen haired youth, whose chief occupation appears to be to pay hom- age at the shrine of "Cupid. With alternate attacks of iealousy and rejoentance, (as in real life) a union is effect- ed between the happy pair in the third act, their worldly responsibilities dawning upon them with strict conformity to the laws of nature, till, in the fifth, we generally find them established in an hostelry on the very verge of a mountain peak, much frequented by vocal huntsmen, whose sport is supposed to be the chamois. Here, sur- FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 185 rounded by family cares, our heroine propounds the prin- ciples of total abstinence to her partner, whose chief weakness appears to be a fondness for appropriating to his own use the viands he provides for his patrons. Such are the duties, professionally, of our subject. Domestically, she may be regarded as imbued with the same womanly instincts as distinguish licr sex in the sev- eral phases of the world's history. Happy for her, if she be blessed with the protecting presence of parents or brothers, to step between her and the arts of the des- troyer. The fulsome adulation of empty-headed foppery she generally receives for about as much as it is worth, and very rarely consummates a marriage with the come- dian above mentioned, despite the universal opinion, that professional similitude begets such a result. Unhappily for her, she at times unites herself to one whose means are not of that positive, or satisfactory na- ture represented, and awakes to the fact when too late, to know that the evening of her life will be consumed in laboring for the support of him, and his offspring. However intrepid the assertion be considered, in offer- ing compliment to her general good and proper deport- ment, both socially and professionally, it is nevertheless true, that very few of her sex would exhibit as much sta- bility of character if placed among the same artful sur- roundings of false pi-ofessions and dazzling deceptions as constantly encircle her ! And it is no small boast to know, that the artiste can look back when, in after life, she shall have become encompassed by maternal cares, to the time when to escape unscathed from the polluting breath of scandal, was considered, by her own sex particularly, quite inconsistent with the character of the soubrette. DRAMATIC MOTHERS. This perplexing epidemic disposes itself through most theatres with a virulence painfully distressing to all who 186 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. — unhappily for them — come within the j^^^e of its bhgliting influence. Worthily desirous to watch over their female offspring, while engaged at their professional duties, they exhibit a duenna-like supervision, s]3reading anarchy and confu- sion in every direction throughout the dramatic camp. Mrs. Plumpley has a daughter, who enjoys the proud distinction of holding captive the hearts of susceptible youth by her personal graces ; as well as the more ma- tured auditor by her histrionic superiority. This much coveted privilege would be duly and properly appre- ciated by its possessor; but that a maternal instinct in terposes to dam up the well-spring of her nature ! mak- ing her, in after life, but a reflex of her present instruc- tor. No one who has Avatched with any degree of observa- tion the several phases of character Avith Avhich the thea- tre is beset, can have failed to be impressed with the conviction that " Dramatic Mothers " are, in their instinct and habits, a grave and serious offence against the com- fort and equanimity of the establishment across whose portal some designing influence has permitted them to intrude. The door-keeper excites the undisguised hatred of this lady by (before he had the honor of her personal acquain- tance) refusing to permit her to besiege the building with- out permission of the manager, as set down in jDositive characters within his presiding sanctum. The dressing room is the favorite /oca/e for the exercise of her most popular and personal manipulations ; there she can dilate upon the inefliciency of ladies who are the pets of the public at other establishments; and whose per- sonal beauty or dramatic skill are in any way likely to con- flict with the ascent of her own charge up the professional ladder. FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 187 Great pleaders in criminal law have often been distin- guished for acerbity in conducting the cross examination of the witnesses on the opposite side, and when we know the acumen displayed by our heroine on the public as well as private conduct of her friends and acquaintance, we feel a deep regret that the practice of that learned pro- fession should be monopolized by the so called, sterner sex. In the dressing-room, preparations for the evening's performance are in a state of the usual bewilderment Avhich generally distinguished that apartment, and the subject of our sketch has endeavored to allay an attack of nervousness with which one of the ladies is afflicted, by assuring her that her head looks a perfect fright ! that no blonde should wear ringlets in such profusion ; with other remarks of a similar nature. Not havins: sufficient skill to conduct a battle of words against so expert a profes- sor, the fair one aiFects to make a different disposition of her much admired tresses, finishes by giving a few touches of a pearly compound to her countenance, and hastily beats a retreat. The costume of the several ladies of the establishment is a matter of serious concern to our heroine, and it is difficult for her to look with an eye of favor upon any who may be in possession of habiliments that can, by their col- or or style, excel those belonging to her darling Julia. The lady who has just entered, and is unfolding a bun- dle freighted with a satin dress of exquisite tint, and made in the best and most becoming manner, opens the flood- gates of the old lady's envy, from which she will not for some time recover. " Bless me, my dear ! Why I do declare you've got a new dress (grasping it, to test its quality.) A present, of course. My Julia was offered a presentation the other day, of the most delicious thing I ever saw ; a Perkins's 188 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. purple, my dear. But to my thinking, it isn't proper or prudent for single ladies to receive presents, no matter under what guise they may be offered ; therefore I at once refused to permit it to be accepted." " What, my dear, you bought it yourself? You astonish me ! saved it up out of your salary ! Oh dear me, thafs very odd! Oh, yes, I see, it's a last year's pattern. Are you sure it isn't a dyed satin, dear me. Oh — oh! I remember now, it is one of those I saw at Stewart's some time since, among those cheap things ou the counter, where the bargain seekers hover about. Eh, fifteen dol- lars, I think they were marked. I thought they would soon become very common, so made up my mind that I wouldn't have one, but let Julia be properly dressed; for in her position, you know, my dear, it is so very necessa- ry ; with you, who play only smaller parts, of course any- thing will do, and the public can hardly expect that, with your means, you can appear as well dressed as she does." Such is a fair sample of the friendly admonition meted out by the " Dramatic Mother " to all who are at all like- ly to divide, or occupy the attention of the audience, in any degree conflicting with her "darling Julia." During the evening's performance, she plays the part of a corpulent Hebe, and wanders after the object of her solicitude, with an acidulated compound in a tumbler, aiding her with advice on the proper exposition of her natural graces, and an earnest appeal that she convey the tones of her voice with a more audible effect to the ex- treme limit of the building. The distribution of the several characters in the vari- ous pieces represented, is a matter of the most serious concern to hei*. The colloquial contests in which her daughter may be engaged, must be conducted with those whose position commands a certain amount of respect and confidence from the patrons of the establishment; rOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 189 evidencing thereby, either a profound esteem for the wel fare of the author, or a maternal solicitude for an effec ive display of the family consequence. "When her daughter shall reach the period that suggests itself as fitting for the fulfillment of her sex's destiny, her feelings are much harrassed to decide upon whom the honor shall be conferred. The pleasure of her who is to be a contracting party to the ceremony, is not unfrequent- ly made subservient to the future comfort and provision of the maternal martinet^ whose prospective afiluence is hopelessly crushed by the fiict, that, after repeated fail- ures to obtain permission to select a partner, she surrep- titiously bestows her hand upon a gentleman whose fa- cility for supporting a Avife is somewhat visionary ; or, it may be, that being musically inclined, she will seek con- geniality in harmonious contact with a professor of that divine art, who has long looked upon her with an eye of afiection while ensjao-ed in the same establishment as her- self, as a performer on the violino secondo. THE "WARDROBE. We have omitted to take a peep at the wardrobe where the costumes of such richness of design and ma- terial are stored. As we enter it we find the keeper of the place engaged in making some repairs to a doublet and trunks. He is extremely polite, and cheerfully and with alacrity exhibits all his best dresses, those of his own make especially. He has them all packed in layers on shelves, all round the room, with a muslin cover for each department ; in the same manner that dry-goods merchants preserve their stock from dust during the night. A tailor's board is in the centre of the room ; on it are implements of the trade, and some dresses wanting new strings, and buttons. If the wardrobe-keeper be engaged to go on the stage when necessary, he is easily 190 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. The Wardrobe Room. FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 191 distinguished, like the super-master, by the careful way in which he is costumed. Propriety is not a matter of much moment to him, and the facilities he possesses of obtain- ing the costliest dresses, regardless of the position in so- ciety the individual he represents is supposed to occupy, will frequently tempt him to present himself to the mul- titude a jDcrfect meteor of dazzling brilliancy. As the season progresses, we cannot foil to observe the little bits of attention consequent on the mixing of the sexes in all communities. A shower of rain at the close of rehearsal, or after performances, will actuate the male members to offer the protection of their umbrellas to the opposite sex. The extent to which these attentions are persevered in at times, may result in the startling informa- tion that Mr. and Miss were married the previous day, quite unknown to the parents of either par- ties. The gentleman before mentioned, and who enacts the young men, and on whom the ladies look with an eye of favor, does not exhibit the amount of attention the ladies seem to expect, and their jealousy is invoked to an excita- ble degree, when they learn from very reliable authority, that the only daughter of a merchant residing in the most fashionable part of the city, has fallen desperately in love with him, and their marriage may be shortly expected to take place. You cannot fail to observe an extremely respectable gentleman, Avho seldom enters the green-room, but walks to and fro at the back of the stage, carrying his gold headed cane after the fashion of an officer in the army. He plays a portion of the heavy business, but when younger was a tragedian. He has seen a good deal of service in his profession, and in intellectual consequence is far ahead of the entire establishment. The young men think him odd and cynical, when he 192 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. them with a look of discontent at their opinions of the efforts of certain much lauded performances. Pie is quite a recluse in his habits, and the changes in dramatic taste that constantly occur, seem to bother his conception of propriety, sadly. The line of parts he has to play seldom attract the attention of the critic, but an occasional lover of art for art's sake, will derive much satisfaction from the way he delivers the lines entrusted to him. He is unusu- ally spruce in appearance this morning, and wears a new hat. Only think, he has been highly complimented by the critic of a leading journal for his performance of Cas- siuSy in lieu of a liighhj priced artist, who was taken sick. It is the first time he has been noticed by the all pow- erful censor, and with the earnest, but perhaps fallacious, hope of an increased income, he has effected a purchase. The gentleman who was to get a share of the comedy, does not feel much flattered when he discovers that it is only the worst share that has fallen to his lot. Some of the new members grow into favor, while some of them do not. They all seize with the greatest avidity every journal that expresses an opinion on their merits. Those who are adverse to them of course must have a motive for maligning them, and undervaluing their tal- ents. Once or twice, perhaps, the manager may be requested to relieve some lady, or gentleman, from the (to them) annoyance of appearing in some character for which they have been cast, insisting that it does not come within the terms of their contract to be called upon to do it. At times the point is yielded, at others the manager insists that he or she play the part, or they are fully aware of the consequences of a refusal. If they remain obdu- rate, they probably have to quit the theatre, — this is, however, a very rare case. The members of every profession are all more or less FOOTLIGIIT FLASHES. 193 liable at times to be overtaken by sickness or misfortune, resulting in pecuniary difficulties very distressing to all, but particularly to those of an intellectual character. It may not be surprising for the public to know, that the professors of the dramatic art are, at times, visited with the pangs of penury, in common Avith others whose in- comes are more positive and continuous. They have that peculiar delicacy always inseparable from those whose pursuits are of a studious character, and confine the knowledge of their condition entirely within the sphere of their own calling. THE KEEDY ACTOR. On a cheerless night when the rain is forming into ice as it falls, may be seen the figure of a man near the stage door. He pauses ere he enters. His hand is upon the latch ; voices are heard in conversation with the hall- keeper, and he retreats with the blush of genteel indi- gence upon his cheek. Why does he dread to meet the gaze of the man whose voice he has just heard ? Years past, when he, the needy one, was at the head of a large establishment, he gave employment to the man within, and his pride will not permit him to encounter him. He is sparingly clad, and ventures forth at night only. When the sound of the voices have died away, he seizes the opportunity to enter, and depositing a small note with a person the hall-keeper has left in charge for a mo- ment, requests as a particular favor it may be sent in as speedily as possible to Mr. , and say he will call in the course of the evening for an answer. The party addressed, requests he will wait, and take a seat near the stove. The petitioner, afiecting an air of business urgency, declines ; says he has a call or two to make elsewhere, and will look in again on his return. In the neighborhood may be seen, sauntering about to 194 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. beguile the time, the author of a letter craving from his brother artists, " The means whereby he may make him- self presentable in society ; as well as to pi-ovide his family with the necessaries of actual need with which they have been for a time deprived. Those whom he addressed are cognizant, from years of professional connection, of his claim to their kindly consideration, and he concludes with an earnest hope that his most bitter enemy may never be reduced to his present painful extremity." In one corner of the green-room stand a small group of men whose sympathies are very susceptible to the suf- ferings of their fellows in adversity. But a few words pass between them ; a slip of paper is soon well provided with names attached to various amounts, in proportion to the means of the subscribers. The comedian is charcred with the pleasing, but somewhat embarrassing duty, of pre- senting the amount collected. Towards the end of the performance he may be seen taking the arm of the peti- tioner, and making rapid strides down the street, in order to make his companion feel as much at ease as possible, while he proposes questions of the present whereabout of members of the profession he cares nothing to know. Turning into some convenient locality secure from notice, he invites his companion to partake of refreshment, and in the course of the rej^ast, produces the results of a little collection, regretting it is not larger, but they have many calls upon them, and further, the salaries of the company are not as much as report had emblazoned them to be. With a lighter heart than when he started on his mis- sion, does the once popular actor return to his scantily provided dwelling, with tears of gratitude for the welcome gift, bestowed in the quiet, unostentatious way peculiar to a class, whose means, however limited, are always freely bestowed upon the needy and deserving. FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 195 As the end of the season draw near, the names of the several candidates for public consideration, grace the top of the bills, as recipients of a benefit. The plays each person proposes to present to his, or her patrons, are submitted to the manager, m'Ijo decides whether it be within the resources of the establishment to do them with befitting credit. If we can not take a liberty with our friends, with whom should we be permitted the privi- lege ? In selecting a character to appear in on the im- portant event, it is not uncommon for the beneficiary to adopt one somewhat above the grade of prominence he or she may be designed for. This pardonable weakness is always kindly overlooked by the public, and mostly acceded to by the manager. It is an amusing mystery among the company, who are all anxious to be put into possession of the names of the pieces each purposes to present to their friends. At times interests will clash, by two persons wishing to fix upon the same play. This is arranged by the manager. The proportion received by the petitioner at these benefits de- pends entirely upon the terms specified at the time the engagement is consummated, as a third, or half of the gross receipt, as the case may be. It may not be out of place here to state, that the proceeds, after deducting extra expenses, fall very far below the amount of the public estimate. Ticket nights are taken by most of the employes of the theatre, these yield the half of the amount each per- son can dispose of, or rather the half of such tickets as are presented at the doors. The manager generally takes the last night of the sea- son for his own benefit, which affords him the opportuni- ty of paying a graceful compliment to his company, " who have so ably seconded him in his efforts to secure the public esteem. To the public, for the liberal manner 196 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. they have responded to it, the which will be an incentive to future exertions ; and during the recess he shall en- deavor to provide such an array of talent for the next season as shall far outstrip the present, now concluding. And with an earnest hope to meet them all in the enjoy- ment of health and prosperity early in the Autumn, he begs most respectfully to bid them farewell." Prior to the end of the season, the note of preparation in the minds of the company has long been sounded in rela- tion to the succeeding. Those who desire to remain, wait anxiously the result of their letter of application which they have, by the assistance of the call boy, had placed upon the table in the manager's room. These applications are in reply to the following notice posted in the green-room four weeks before the close of the season, viz : The ladies and gentlemen of the company, are respectfully in- formed that the present season will terminate on the inst. Those who may desire to re-engage for the season ensuing, will please signify the same by letter, on or before the . Prompter. Now is every one impressed with the same uneasiness housekeepers have, as they approach the period of their emigration to some other domestic habitation. The thea- tre box at the post office is daily swollen to repletion with replies from provincial managers, who have been so- licited to give the subscriber six or twelve nights in the month of August. Some liowever, who delight in the world's luxurious ease, betake themselves to the more agreeable task of rural sports during the hot spell, and return to their fall duties invigorated by fresh air, and wholesome recreation. The manager is much employed replying to the appli- cations of candidates for next season's engagements, and rOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 197 members from the rival establishments may be seen quit- ting the private office with an air of unconcern, as if it were not possible they could be suspected of holding conference with the manager upon any business connect- ed with the theatre, but had simply dropped in to make a passing call, — an act of politeness that never occurred to them till the present moment. The company themselves are somewhat on the reserve in relation to their future prospects. Those who return next season merely acknowledge the foct as if it were a matter of course, which any one of the smallest capacity must have anticipated. Those, however, whose applica- tions have been answered negatively, assure you that un- der no circumstances whatever, would they consent to a repetition of the conduct they are at present receiving, — that in no instance through the entire season have they had the slightest opportunity for the display of their ability ; and to endure a second edition is out of the ques- tion. The private property of the company is now seen to depart by instalments in boxes, wrappers, and champagne baskets. All outstanding accounts are sent in, audited, and settled. The manager congratulates himself upon the success- ful termination of a season begun, perhaps, without any great prospect of pecuniary profit ; but happily, by his su- perior judgment, one of the most paying campaigns since the building was erected. The lessee, (if there be such a person behind the throne managerial) is highly pleased with the tact displayed by his man of business, in proof whereof he is, while enjoying the luxury and hospitality of the said lessee at his little place in the country, compli- mented by the presentation of a watch of exquisite work- manship, accompanied by a speech teeming with assur- ances of his personal regard for his public talent and pri- vate worth. 198 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. The manager receives the treasure with heartfelt grat- itude ; and as he wends his way to the chamber allotted to his use, cannot help reflecting upon the oft quoted axiom, " that the test of genius is success." How varia- ble must be the emotions in the breast of that donor who can fashion his liberality to the exigency of his subject ; for when, during a period of commercial disaster, he en- dured sleepless nights of anxious thought for the welfare of his employer, hut dicMt succeed, no words of gratitude or encouragement were offered, to cheer him on his next venture. Falling into a deep slumber, the manager is happy to become oblivious to the intricacies of all matters apper- taining to BEHIND THE SCENES. I desire to impress upon the minds of my readers, that the foregoing applies to the season's doings within the walls of a theatre conducted upon principles of etiquette and business propriety. To accurately describe the innovations that have, from time to time, held despotic sway, in antagonism to those as here set down, would be an endless, as well as a hu- miliating task. Man, philosoj^hers tell us, is a progress- ive animal, and many eventually establish a code of laws for a dramatic millennium, which consummation cannot arrive too soon for the personal comfort, as well as the pecuniary interest of a numerous class, whose positions at the present time are somewhat indefinite. CHAPTER XVI. " Lies your way due west." Twelfth JVight. Act 3. Scene 1. The state of Ohio has within its boundary a river still retaining its Indian nomenclature of Maumee ; a town y'clept Toledo skirts one end of it, while the other termin- ates in Lake Michigan. It was iishered into existence some- where about the year 1836, by some hardy jiioneers, who probably conceived the notion that when it was thorough- ly drained it might become a pleasant spot for those who sought the invigorating breezes from the river, hard by. When we visited this delicous retreat, it was under the ex- citement of railway engineering, and is now (1866) the great route from the Eastern states to the West. The country a few miles away is beautiful in appearance, and fertile to profusion; but the town itself is deficient in every requi- site for a healthful location, being filthy to the sight ; and subject to frequent attacks of fever and ague in the most virulent form. It was at one of these periodical arrivals, that we reached the place, in the latter part of the month of November. The disease was bloomina; in all its native joyousness, the river donating its profuse miasma with its customary liberality. The morning sun had commenced to struggle through the thick and poisonous atmosphere, with very ill success, as Ave arrived from Cleveland, and are shaken to the hotel in a vehicle built coeval with the date of the town's nativity. The resting place for travel- 200 rOOTLIGHT FLASHES. lers is a fitting companion to the other enjoyment of the neighborhood, and is not readily forgotten by those who, by the pressm-e of untoward circumstances, find themselves entangled in its meshes. Hotel keeping must be a pro- fitable speculation in many of the western cities, if your feelings can become, after a sufiicient course of tutorage in the science of extortion, suflicieutly callous to the suf- ferings of your fellow creatures. It is Sunday, and the several boarders hang lazily about the house, exhibiting much restlessness at the approach of the hour when meals are served. As the evening draws near, those who are under the influence of the sea- son's severity, hover around the large circular stove, wrap- ped in thick overcoats, piteously awaiting their nightly at- tack. In the morning I repair to the building used as the theatre, and at the entrance and about the passages, en- counter some of the company. The leader of the band is on the stage smoking a short pipe of tobacco, and im- parting dramatic instruction to a dirty looking French poodle, whom I found a prominent member of the cori^s dramatique, and a great favorite with the public. The rehearsal of "Paul Pry " is somewhat tardily got through, from the difiiculty the manager has in persuad- ing either of the ladies to do violence to their personal beauty, and assume the character of Mrs. Subtle ! One is found (at last) bold enough to attempt the sacrifice, and the morning's business is dispensed with after a fash- ion. The manager expresses his regret that he is a little sho)'t of people, but expects two additions from a neigh- boring city the following day. While I was in conversa- tion, an open van approached, containing a family of female musicians who, as per placard hung around the vehicle, propose to exhibit their musical accomplishments that very evening, in a grand instrumental concert ! FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 201 Our manager is in despair. Sucli a powerful opposition will ruin the first night, as all the young men about town would be certain to patronize an exhibition so novel, and with such good looking performers, too ? What should we do? Something in the shape of counter attraction must be thought of! I said it couldn't be helped, must hope for the best, and quitted the theati'e with no very san- guine expectations of the pecuniary result of our visit to Toledo. I repaired to the hotel ; it was a quarter of an hour past the time for dinner. The majority of the inmates had long quitted the table and had finished two or three ci- gars each ; therefore, I came in with the fourth relay of feeders upon the debris of the banquet. The manager had promised to call upon me after din- ner, to show me the points of interest with which, he seemed really to believe, the place abounded. I was seated at the window of my bed-room, fortunately a front one, Avhen I heard the approaching sounds of mar- tial music, and the tramp of the juvenile portion of the populace. I turned my eyes in the direction from whence the sound 'proceeded, and was horror stricken to perceive my friend pull up in front of the building with four grey horses harnessed to an open van, in which were seated the orchestral performei's attached to his establishment, while himself assumed the office of Jehu. A place re- served on his left was evidently intended to be the pyre on which I was to be sacrificed ; for, stretched across the vehicle was a huge canvas placard with this announce- ment : W. Davidge, the great comedian from the Broadway Theatre, New York, for a few nights only, and who will have the honor of making his first appearance this evening. Taking a despairing glance at the triumphal car on which I was to be burnt alive for the wonderment of an 202 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. astonished multitude I barricaded the door, disencum- bered myself of my outer garments, jumped into bed, declared I was suffering from a sudden and violent attack of sickness, from which I took good care not to recover till the great advertising Juggernaut car had driven away. In the evening I was informed by this western Crummies of the treat I had missed ; for that all the boys in the town had gone frantic with excitement, and shouted so loudly for a comic song, that he was compelled to pass off one of his brass band for the orir/inal Jacobs ! and they made him sing " Villikins and his Dinah," and " I w^ouldn't be at all surprised if they insist upon your standing on your head, and doing the same this very eve- ning. The introduction of railroads has greatly destroyed the feature of country life ; and it may be readily be- lieved the drama has equally shared in the rapid change that has affected every branch of trade or profession. I do not wish to infer that the art of acting is, in its vitali- ty, injui'ed or depreciated in j^laces where a taste for the better class of amusement ever existed at all ; but I do believe that the rapid increase in the population in newly formed cities, produces a style of patrons whose habits and associations afford no opportunity for the cultivation of the arts, but, in the thirst for acquiring money leave them content with a recreation that appeals only to their visual wants, to the total exclusion of the intellectual, which the denizens of older localities yearn for as a necessity. Before the progressive change above described, the country actor had a totally distinct characteristic from those who were the favorites of the city establishments. He was gradually, by the study of the best authors, fitting himself for his debut before those who were to sit in judg- ment upon his claims to the occupancy of a niche in tlie FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 203 temple of dramatic fame. There was a standard of excel- lence to be reached ere you could approach that much coveted goal ! The historian who shall pen the rise and fall of public taste during the last twenty years, will find ample materials for the exercise of his thoughts, and the variety of the subject. SALISBURY. Few of ray professional brethren will be able to resist a smile at the reading of the above name. A genial man was Salisbury, an excellent actor and an inveterate practical joker ! The western part of Amer- ica has not produced a greater character than he of whom I desire to speak. My acquaintanceship was but slight, when I encoun- tered him in a railroad car at the Detroit depot, bound for Chicago. Before starting, he beckoned me in a secret and suspicious manner, on to the platform, where he hur- riedly enquired. If I had purchased my ticket? « Certainly ! " replied I. " Ah ! " he continued, " I never do that." "Don't you, indeed," I added, " are you on the free list." "Well, pretty much so," was the rejoinder. " Oblige me, don't take any notice of me through the entire journey, until we reach our destination, and then not until we are clear of the depot." I readily yielded to his request, not without some curious cogitations in regard to the result. The bell rung furiously, the inevitable last passenger is with his baggage pitched into the car, and we are on the way for the city of wonderful progress, Chicago. We got on a few miles, when the conductor made us ac- quainted with his presence by most authoritatively de- manding " Tickets." When Salisbury was solicited to satisfy the curiosity of this functionary, the following 204 FOOTLIGIIT FLASHES. was the mode in which the attempt was made, and the result. Conductor. Now, Sir, ticket please. Salishury. (Apparently unconscious.) Conductor. (Passes on, but presently returns and re- peats the previous performance.) Come, neighbor, I want your ticket. Salishury. (Exhibits the upper part of his face, stares vacantly around, turns over, and sleeps again.) Passengers. (Are cogitating on the result of these inattentions to such polite requests.) Conductor. (Gets more anxious to close up his ac- counts, and gives his unconscious passenger another shake, with an evident show of temper.) Salisbury. (Assumes a sitting position and hands con- ductor a copy of an evening paper, which he finds he has been reposing on.) Two young Ladies. (Give a loud laugh.) Conductor. (Very much flurried, and looking suspi- ciously at the two females.) Conductor. Now come, there's been enough of this. If you don't show your ticket I shall have to drop you here (raises his hand to the check line.) Elderly person. (Attached to the cattle interest, ap- parently volunteers to explain to the gentleman the na- ture of the conductor's demand, bawling in S's ear.) He wants your ticket ! Salishury. (Still incorrigible.) Conductor. Here, come ! Out with you ! (Is going to suit the word to the action, — when, •) Somebody, (or something wrapped in numerous shawls interposes.) Say, look here, Conductor, I'll fix hini all right, leave him to me. Conductor. Are you in his company ? Does anybody know him here ? FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 205 iVb one acknowledging an acquaintancesbip, conductor is about to carry his threat into execution, laying hands upon the incorrigible passenger for that purpose, when Salisbury, having gathered a crowd around him, got upon his feet, and with a pencil wrote upon the margin of a newspaper the following: "I regret this extremely. I am deprived of the power of speech to express my situa- tion. I have been robbed and ill used by sharpers." Conductor. Well, I havn't anything to do with this. I want vour fare. Come now ! Duet. (T\\'o Ladies.) Oh shameful ! poor creature, you wouldn't surely turn a man out on such a night as this. Some people have no more feeling than brutes ! Cattle Dealer. No, nor half as much as some brutes. How much do yoii want ? Conductor. Why, if he is going to Chicago, I require such a sum, (naming it.) Lady. (In ringlets very much disordered.) Now real- ly it's too bad. I guess it can be all arranged satisfictorily. I'm sure I'll give a dollar towards the amount with pleas- ure, rather than he shall be expelled from the car, at this distance from the town, too. Omnes. Of course, I'll give something too. The nec- essary sum is speedily collected, and the conductor retires, after receiving his fire, and an addition of universal dis- gust from all the passengers. At the stations where we alight for refreshments, our hero is safely conveyed to the dining hall and his meal paid for by one or other of his fellow travellers. We meet with a delay, and it is late in the afternoon before we cross the long trellis work bridge skirting Lake Michigan, and are deposited at the depot. Salisbury was speedily upon the platform, and as I looked at him in wonderment I see him raise his hat, and in the most bland and gentlemanly manner hear him de- liver his adieu to his fellow voyagers in these terms: 206 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. " Ladies and gentlemen, I cannot find words to ex- press my sense of the obligation you have conferred upon me. I shall ever consider myself your grateful debtor. Good evening." SALISBURY AND THE FRENCH COOK. If I say that the weather was hot, I shall give but a faint idea of the summer of 1854, when I paid my first visit to Chicago, to find that dreadful scourge, the cholera, decima- ting the population, and driving all those whose means and leisure served them, to more genial dwelling places. Our hero had never been able to lay in a stock of the world's goods, therefore it was not surprising he should be driven to the exercise of his very fertile ingenuity in or- der to appease his daily wants. An opportunity presented itself the morning after our arrival. A rosy little Frenchman was preparing breakfast in the kitchen of the " Younor America," and as he scientificallv tossed his omelets and warbled his snatches of song, at- tracted the willing attention of our adventurer who, with a wistful aspect, was admiring the operation from the window which abutted upon the street. Presently their eyes met, and they smiled in unison. Salisbury, began, " You sing well, Monseiur ! " " Oh, sare, you too good ! much oblige ! " " The songs of your native land, monseiur, are charm- ins;, bien ton! ! (With a shrug, and an attempted accent. " Oh, sare," (bowing low.) " Fact. I assure you ! I know no country that can ex- cel yours in the extreme beauty of its ballads, especially those where love is the theme ! "Ah! oui ! ye love ballad! magnifique! you come in- side, sare." rOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 207 ■♦ " Thank you, I'm tired, I will," and speedily Salisbury is seated in the kitchen. A few more compliments, in order to bring the Frenchman into a condition sufficiently im- i:)ressible for his purpose, and our hero began a disser- tation upon the mystery of preparing coffee, at which he boldly affirmed he was ready to challenge the world. The Gallic pride was wounded in its most sensitive part. His prowess had never, even in his native land, been questioned, and now to have the shadow of doubt cast upon his cuisine by a stranger, who had never enjoyed the pleasure of feasting upon viands prepared under his masterly direction, was a serious blow. When he had somewhat recovered from his bewilderment, be continued in as good English as he could collect at short notice, " Sare, nion ctjnie, you say mon cafe not good like him vot you have ! " "My dear fellow," rejoined S. " you can have no idea of the way in which I make it, and the secret I have where- by I defy any one to discover how it is accomplished." "Accomplish! ah! vat is dat accomplish you put in him ? sare, tell to me, you never taste mon cafe ? " "Never," said S. "but—" " Oh ! mon amie. You shall see vot I sail give to you. Suiting the action to the word, be placed upon the table a cup of delicious coffee, with ham, and omelet, taking a step back while his rival sat in judgment upon its quality. Our hero took one sip at the coffee, and fixed his eye upon the Frenchman, whose visage Avas suffused with per- spiration and anxiety. " Capital, monsieur, very good indeed ! " (Rising, and shaking his hand.) This is excellent; but confess now, you are not always as fortunate as this." " Yat you say, monsieur ? " " Why, your coffee is not always as good as it is this mornmg r 9" 208 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. " Ob ! otii ! How long you stay here ? " " About a week, perhaps two ! " " You shall see, monsieur, come ye to-morrow and ye day after him, and you shall see mon cafe, him as good, ze same to-morrow as it is ze day before, always ze same!" " Much obliged," said Salisbury, bowing himself out, " your coffee is excellent. I had no idea it was possible to find a man who could equal me at coffee ! " Punctually at eight o'clock every morning, for the next fortnight, might be seen, with his breakfast before him, a cheerful, ruddy faced man, waited upon by the French cook, whose merry laugh bore ample testimony to the pleasure he derived from the society of one who, but for their fortunate meeting, must have started on his daily mission with an eraj)ty stomach. THE LIGHT COMEDIAN. Well accoutred for an attack on the impressibility of susceptible female nature, our subject promenades the most flxshionable quarters of the city at a period of the day when the first society has made up its mind to in- spect the stock of those who allure you with articles of costume faultless in design, and fabulous in cost. In common with others whom the gaudily dressed windows attract within their precincts, the light comedian is not proof against the blandishment of the last consignment of expensive dry goods ; it may be, perhaps, that he de- sires to contemplate the purchase of some article that may have taken his fancy; or it is just possible he has heard a pair of sweet lips utter his name, as she is alight- ing from her carriage. She is in company with two con- genial spirits who have often witnessed the professional exertions of our hero, when, after being expelled from the dwelling of his inamorata on three distinct and sep- arate occasions, he has triumphantly, in the disguise of a FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 209 domestic, returned and carried off the object ot his affec- tion to the nearest clergyman. What a source of attraction he is to them ! How much they would like to address him, but dread the imprudence of such a step ! How unconscious he is — or appears to he — as he turns suddenly to meet their gaze, then slow- ly moves off with the satisfaction of one who believes himself somewhat above the common, every-day stock, which nature has disposed in its wisdom for the propa- gation of the human race. Not alone do the fair sex look with an eye of pleasure upon the light comedian. Men may not unfrequently be seen to nudge each other as he j^asses them, adding some remarks upon his professional capability in the last sensa- tional production in which he has taken an important part. The progress of photography has deposited his re- semblance with plentiful alacrity in all the more eligible positions, and in the most graceful attitudes ; while any alteration in his hirsute embellishments becomes imme- diately the city's talk. Epistolary effusions of a warm and tender tone occa- sionally beset him, from all kinds of people, and couched in every kind of style, from the rose-tinted and highly perfumed satin paper with its adhesive fastening of the quiver of the god of love, to the more practical business stationery of the milliner, or skirt factory. "Wonder not, dear reader, that the crime of vanity be sometimes laid to his charge ; for who amongst you could escape the stigma with such an array of admirers as he — in virtue of his oflice — draws around him. On the stage, he is invested by the dramatist with virtues of the high- est class, and a spirit of reckless effrontery highly palata- ble to the taste of the fair sex, whose nature off the stage as well as upon it, yearns to exhibit its prowess in sub- 210 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. duing the exuberance of manly folly, and the turbulence of unsystematic youth. Pending the production of a drama wherein our hero is to represent a noble of the court of France, at a time when that country was revelling in the enjoyment of un- interrupted pleasure, he may be seen in the wardrobe, holding conference with the designer of costumes on the most becoming blending of colors ; illustrating his views by a sketch of a noble of that period clad in all the par- aphernalia of regal splendor. There is an earnest desire on the part of the proprietor of the theatre to look with the most economical eye upon the wants of the approach- ing new drama, and the light comedian is assured by the costumer, that the material he would like to habit himself in will far exceed in costliness the rate as " per his in- structions," or, as he quaintly expresses it, "The governor wouldn't go that, not at no price, he's sure ! " To ordinary people, this would seem to be conclusive, that our hero must be content with the scale of expense as set down by that infallible autocrat, " The manager," but it does nevertheless happen, that when the play shall be presented to the public, he will carry off the palm for the splendor of his costume as well as for the satisfactory rendition of the character. With becoming grace does he confer the usual civilities of every day life to all who encounter him in the course of business contact ; and not unfrequently, will exhibit a fondness for sports requiring an immense amount of physical endurance, scarcely compatible with the public's preconceived notions, from the medium they have been accustomed to contemplate him. When the announcement is duly put forth in the daily papers, that the public can have the pleasure of assisting at his annual benefit about to take place, he is speedily over- FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 21 1 charged with missives requesting that certain boxes, and eligible positions for seeing and hearing, be retained for the use of the subscriber, with kindly expressions of hope that the affair might be a genuine ovation of pleasure and profit. Perspective mothers, as well as those who have long assumed the dignity of maternal cares, vie with each other to render homage at the shrine of their favorite ; while their cavaliers exert all their interest to make the occas- ion one of the genuine successes of the season. And when these mysterious boxes, which outside innocency believes to be impregnable, are disclosed to the delighted gaze of the recipient, the vouchers assure hira of the esteem in which his exertions are regarded. He counts his gains with the air of a man who has received his proper quota of the public consideration ; or if he be of a selfish na- ture, ponders on what an increase might have found its way into his private coffers, if a powerful attraction else- where had not occurred on that very evening, or an an- tagonistic influence had not been exerted to his disadvan- tage, by copious showers of rain throughout the entire day. The exponents of the broader kinds of comedy find little, or no favor in his esteem. He is ill-disposed to award them the meed of approval the public voice would seem to consider their just due. Not that he is insensi- ble to the necessity of their introduction into the dramatis personce., but the means usually employed by the dramatist involves an association with the influences of persons who move in the lower walks of life, by no means congenial to the surroundings of one who is constantly called upon to present living pictures of the highest toned people, whose idiosyncrasy, by a natural coarse of attrition, give him incalculable advantage towards the fulfillment of a high moral and consequential destiny. 212 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. When he lays aside his professional armor for the customary recess, he repairs to some spot redolent with the presence of youthful beauty and matured independ- ence — there, by the exigency which a void in the male population sometimes produces, will he find himself in frequent companionship with some of his greatest admii'- ers, whose regard for him and the art he so much adorns, make them supremely delighted at the pleasure of mak- ing his acquaintance ; though the idea has never before occurred to them, till, being stranded upon the dreary waste of their own invention, they clutch at a rescue with an affected sincerity too transparent for the meanest capacity to pass unnoticed. It may be that the persuasive tones of the light com- edian are at times remembered as they were wont to be uttered when he swore, in the last new drama, to "Break through all edicts, no matter by whom issued, and boldly thunder at the portals of his father's castle, till the rever- beration should topple its proprietor from his seat, that Angeline should be his, and his alone, ere the sun should again present his reflective presence upon the apex of the building." Or it may be, that a totally different sentiment is upper- most in the female breast, and prompts one lonely possessor to seek a defender in the person of our hero ; who surreptitiously sacrificing himself on her behalf, be- comes the author of several blooming pledges of mutual affection most zealously cherished by one who is regard- ed with a feeling of sorrow by those whose antecedents may have graced the pages of a criminal register for misappropriation of valuables not their own personal property, but who cannot readily recover from the social disaster that the friend of their youth, whose hand had been solicited by many well skilled in the aptitude for municipal peculations, should have devoted the balance FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 213 of her days to so indefinite a circumstance as the Light Comedian. A VERY LONG SOXG. In what has been proudly termed the palmy days of the drama, at the Park Theatre, lived a worthy and ami- able gentleman whose name was Cobb. The sea was his occupation, and he commanded a packet ship, sailing between Liverpool and New York. The theatre was his great delight, and when in port he was a constant patron. One evening, prior to his date for sailing, he entered the Park Theatre, and while there, was accosted by some friends, who invited him to sup with them. The ofier was accepted, and they quitted the building at the very moment when Mr. Peter Richings was in the act of sing- ing a patriotic song, and waving his sword in the most approved manner. The captain departed on his voyage, and on his arrival in Liverpool was dispatched to China, and did not return to New York for nearly three years. The first visit he made when he reached the city, was to the theatre ; there, to his great astonishment, was Richings, in precisely the same attitude he had left him at his departure. Turning to a friend who accompanied him, he said : " Well, by thunder ! if that isn't the longest song I ever did hear; Richings was at it three years since. I've been nearly round the world, and darned if he's got through it yet." CHAPTER XVII. My speculative, and active instruments. Othello. Act 1. Scene 3. THE SCIENCE OF TICKET SPECULATIOK. Three or four of these events in a season, will secure a very acceptable sum to him who is skilled in the method of taking advantage of the popular greediness for novelty. An excitement is gotten up at the retirement of some prominent member of the profession, who, if it be of the male sex, is about to quit the scene of his numerous achievements, to repose upon his well-earned laurels. If a lady, she is probably about to be led to the hymeneal altar by some one distinguished in the political or com- mercial world ; and the public have, by the outside pres- sure of social influence, been called upon to bear in mind that one of brilliant talent and unspotted virtue, is about to be torn from their fond caresses, and borne for ever from their sight. The said public peruses its favorite journal, and suddenly becomes conscious of the extent of its deprivation, and cannot possibly refrain making one at the approaching leave taking. This is the time when the ticket speculator distinguish- es himself He watches the temperature of the public appetite. He and his aids purchase large quantities of the best places, as soon as the doors are opened. The manager is suspicious that an imposition is about to be practised upon his patrons, the public ; and such a course FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 215 of proceeding being entirely beyond the thoughts or de- sires of managerial rectitude, issues a notice to the effect that " The public be cautioned against the purchase of tickets of admission from speculators in the streets ; none being genuine, saA-e those procured through the instru- mentality of the box office," The speculator laughs the above proclamation to scorn, and Avith his aids patiently watches the time when the best seats are all secured. It is then he approaches the ex- pectant pleasure seeker with the information that he has a few choice locations he can dispose of at a reasonable per centage on the original outlay. The individual ad- dressed passes him with the remembrance of the prohibi- tion in the morning paj)ers, and applies at the office for three seats for his party, and is assured that the back row at the left hand side is the only thing he has to offer. A blank astonishment suffuses the face of the enquirer as he consults his watch, and expresses his surprise, that being only three quarters of an hour after the time of opening the office for the sale of tickets, he should be so unfortunate. The treasurer says he is very sorry, but does not look particularly distressed about the matter ; and makes the rejected offer to the next customer who, being from a rural district, is content to take the best he can get. The disappointed one moves a short distance away, and re- volves in his mind the consequences of defeat. He has, in a moment of social delight, promised the charming Eve- lina that she and her mamma shall be escorted by him on the forthcoming interesting event, and to place them in a back seat, where his enviable monopoly of the prettiest girl in town could not excite the envy of every fellow he knew, would be positively awful ! Further, as he had at no very distant day the fond hope of becoming the pos- sessor of the lovely one, it might do him an irreparable 216 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. injury in the eyes of her maternal parent, should it ever become known that a few paltry dollars had stood in the way of the purchase. " Better take 'em sir," says a voice close to his ear. " How much ? " timidly enquires he. " Twelve shillings each, sir ? " « What ! " " Why, sir, they'll be well worth two dollars this after- noon, — or if I keep them till to-morrow, and take them to the St. Nicholas, I can get twenty shillings at the office there." This being unanswerable, the money is paid over, the cheques for seats duly received, and the transaction realizes a clear profit of three dollars. The next is a youth of ardent temperament, also on the hidi road to a matrimonial connection with a charm- ino- young lady, who, liaving, as she believes, some taste in matters of costume, and the assurance of her dress maker that no one of her numerous customers have been so faultlessly designed by nature for the display of an elegant toilet, makes frequent donations to society by in- dulging it with an exposition of her elegant person, the same being more a matter of concern to her than the en- joyment of the entertainment itself The speculator, who is somewhat of a physiognomist, can read his wants and desires, and negotiates a very satisfactory sale as in the former case. This is the modus operandi in the more simplified por- tion of the profession. The scientific method of effecting large profits is much more intricate, and involves a greater amount of judgment than the mere tyro in the business can easily accomplish. I know a party who admitted to me, that on one occa- sion, in the city of New York, he cleared nearly four hundred dollars by premiums on boxes and seats. He FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 217 was a man well skilled in all the minntife in creatins: excitements and keeping his victims at fever heat while there was a possibility of a beneficial result accruing by the operation. He had traversed the length and breadth of the land with every novelty, from the brilliant soprano and the mellifluous tenor, to the bearded lady. lie is well known on town, speaks two or three languages, English the most imperfectly, and was indebted for his advent into this world to a race whose shrewdness in the science of driving a bargain, leaves the Yankee trader a long way beyond the confines of competition. He is well accredited at all places of amusement, whether operatic, dramatic, equestrian, or Ethiopian, and is person- ally familiar with every person of importance and good standing in the city. In the course of his manipulations, he confers extensive patronage on several persons who are indispensably necessary to the successful completion of his j^lans. It not unfreq.uently happens that the party who may be about to tear him or herself from the public gaze, will employ biin to take charge of the pecuniary portion of the leave taking ; awarding him a liberal percentage and a handsome keepsake, for his judicious managerial dis play. In the ordinary case all the best boxes and seats are secured several days prior to the date of the entertain- ment. What is to be done ? Mr. Cent-per-cent and family must be there, and is compelled to place himself in communication with our friend, who will of course, with his extensive dramatic and musical influence, be able to suggest a means whereby his desires can be grati- fied. Agent is regularly on the alert, and fully aware of Mr. Cent-per-cent's dilemma. He is appealed to, can see no remedy at present ; but will make enquiry of the party 10 218 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. who has rented the choice box, and endeavor to effect some satisfactory arrangement. The morning of the play arrives, Mr, Cent-per-cent will willingly give twenty-five dollars sooner than be disappointed. Agent, or specula- tor, says he has called on the jDarties, whom he thinks may be induced to vacate, but that he, the speculator, will have to effect some counterchange of places at much cost and trouble. " Never mind the expense " rejoins the an?c- ious millionaire, " if it can be done." The evening arrives ! Speculator watches his party as they pay for their ordinary admission tickets, as agreed upon. He joins them at the back of the boxes, and re- quests they will follow him. They reach the box. Spec- ulator knocks, and the door is opened by a gentleman gotten up regardless of consequences. A conversation is carried on to the effect that " it is very unpleasant, don't like to refuse, ladies, etc., shall expect some good seats elsewhere ! " Speculator gives the required as- surance — deposed party vacate, — while the reigning usurpers assume their seats, Mr. Cent-per-cent places, un- seen, into the ready hand of the speculator, bills to the amount of twenty-five dollars, feeling happy to pay a good premium for so comfortable and elegant a location ; but perfectly ignorant of the fact that five dollars was disbursed by the speculator himself for the said box ; and that the gentlemen who had occupied it, were placed there only till an eligible customer with a large profit in perspective, should present himself. Where the ceremony of securing seats is not pursued, but every person takes the best he can find, it is no less profitable to the speculator, and is accomplished in this manner. A certain number of aids are provided with the means of admission, and take up their position at the doors long before the crowd present themselves. When the rush comes, they are all in the choice seats before the FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 219 eager ones can obtain their checks, because they are all provided with tickets. The house fills speedily, and the speculator watches the late comers, fresh from the hands of the accomplished peruquier, as they regard with looks of bewilderment the crowds that obstruct his view of the stage. Speculator gets into conversation, refers to the large numbers present. Victim feels sorry he didn't pro- cure places by some means, expects a lady and gentle- man friend, who were to meet him there, — he had promis- ed to be there early but was detained. Speculator says he had anticipated the sale of three seats, which he has taken from a friend who had lost his mother, and couldn't come, that he had paid two dollars each for them, and would now willingly dispose of them for five dollars, sooner than be stuck Avith them ! Victim sees a good opportu- nity of redeeming his character for promptness, and offers readily to hand over the required amount, as his friends are seen forcing their way down the passsge. Speculator requests them to follow him, holds up three fingers, when the like number of eligible occupants in the front row immediately give place to the newly arrived trio, and the speculator realizes a profit of three dollars and fifty cents. THE WALKING GENTLEMAN". "Have I been called? " is a question not unfrequently propounded to the first professional associate the walking gentleman may encounter, as he makes his way towards the stage some minutes after the appointed time for the commencement of rehearsal. Receiving an answer in the affirmative, he will quicken his pace, silently perusing his part, till summoned by the call boy to repeat it in the presence of the stage manager. It is not without considerable difliculty our hero has been able to tear himself from his downy pillow, after a very limited companionship, caused by his presence the 220 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. preceding night at a convivial gathering of the youth of both sexes. Little did he think, while hastily preparing his toilet for the day, that he had lacerated a female heart, now throbbing with its first attack of wretchedness ; and whose anguish could never be assuaged, until it was duly considered the exclusive property of the aforesaid walk- ing gentleman. So satisfied, indeed, was the owner of the lacerated member aforesaid, that it confided to a con- genial female spirit the startling disclosure of its fixed in- tention to quit, for an indefinite 2:)eriod, its painful exist- ence, in the event of opposition to its wishes ; and fur- ther, that any attempt to dissuade it from its purpose would meet with speedy resistance and contempt. The dramatist must be considered as an accessory be- fore the fact, when he supplies the facilities for a foray upon female nature ; and the crime is doubly reprehensi- ble, when the exponent of the author's ideas is blessed with a handsome face, and symmetrical form. The walking gentleman has apartments not far from the theatre, where, after dinner, you will find him with one or two members of the company, discussing the gen- eral topics of the day, as well as the quality of the parts he has been called upon, in the course of his experience, to personate. " Why, sir, it was fourteen lengths, if it was a line ; and not a scene that wasn't a comj^lete feeder from beginning to end. "Well, sir, I studied it letter perfect from the night before, never missed a Avord, either, at rehearsal, or at the performance ; and the author never felt grateful, or if be did, he never expressed himself in terms to that efiect." " Perhaps he didn't imagine, from his knowledge of the extent or quality of the favor conferred, that a return for what you conceive to be an obligation, was due in any case," chimes in a timid youth, with an unusual quantity FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. - 221 of hair, and whose appearance upon the stage, is always ridiculed by the audience. " Thank you, Charley," says our hero, " if you could only be as clever on the stage, as you affect to be off it, you'd soon be at the summit of the profession. The next time you stick, in the second act, don't expect me to take it up, and cover your stupidity, for I'll be shot if I do it." Not much abashed by this rebuke, the timid youth, after relighting his cigar, returns to the charge with redoubled zeal, and assures the company that our hero has some lit- tle cause, at this particular juncture, to be down upon him, inasmuch as he had lately suj^planted him in the affections of a young lady, who was passing fair to look upon ; and whose paternal parent was plentifully encum- bered with the spondulicks. Those of my readers whose means enable them to in- dulge in a suite of apartments, with all the necessary ac- companiments of elegance and display, must readily ad- mit that there are more tidy looking places than the bed- room of an actor, wherein he has to store his wardrobe, professional and domestic. The curious can find ample material for enquiry, by a close inspection of this apart- ment. It is summer time, and the windows are open to admit the air. Its occupants have disposed themselves in every imaginable manner, and are smoking fearfully. Our hero, very sparingly clad, reclines upon the bed, his nether extremities dangling over the foot board. The chairs being the posts of honor, are allotted to the two gentlemen boarders, who are engaged in mercantile pur- suits. They are constant patrons of the theatre, and ever anxious to cultivate the acquaintance of those whom they have admired behind the footlights. One of them has a great inclination to become an actor, and has al- ready, by stealth, taken part in an amateur performance ; but his mother, being a strict, and very devout patron of 222 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES, the tenets laid down by Whitfield and his disciples, would never permit one of her kith and kin to engage himself in so jDrofane a calling. Articles having a strong dramatic affinity occupy every portion of the room, obtruding themselves from all points of sight. From the walls hang one Roman and one regi- mental sword, a pair of yellow morocco boots, a pair of foils, a black velvet hat ; a few play bills and prints in litho- graph, forming the chief decoration. The chimney piece is laden with books, and written parts of plays, cigars, match-box, two ball tickets, the daguerreotype of a lady with a profusion of dark ringlets, and a pair of boxing gloves. The afternoon is far advanced, when one of the party desires to excuse himself, for he has a part to read, and his things to look out, and must be going. He has, how- ever, scarcel}' quitted the apartment, when a voice salutes him with a request that he will not forget the bald wig he loaned the previous evening, as also a red ostrich feather, with boot tops, and sword chain, all of which he assures the borrower are to be found on his dressing jDlace in his room at the theatre. The personnel of our hero is quite up to the mark to satisfy the most exacting of the opposite sex. It is true, there are those among men who are always at a loss to perceive how their female acquaintance can make him the subject of their approval ; but, as these are somewhat proud of their own claims to the monopoly of the ladies' favors, their opinions should be received with caution and misgiving. Beyond tlie jDrofessional circle in which he radiates, our subject has less distinct characteristics than perhaps any of his brethren. The ornamental portion of the theatre is mostly divided between the tragedian, the light comedian, and himself j and in proi3ortion as nature has FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 223 been lavisli in her gifts, is he the object of attention with the fair sex. Outside the theatre, and within the seclusion of the strictest confidence, does he, without being cognizant of the proud distinction, enjoy the honor of having his per- sonal qualifications the frequent theme of admiration by the ladies, who, at his benefit, will muster in strong force to evince their appreciation of his histrionic ability and attractive person. Not only will he be the recipient of a substantial testimonial, but anonymous gifts will perhaps flow in from admirers who desire, in their own way, to show their affection and esteem. The walking gentleman is visually the worst paid mem- ber of the theatre. His outlay for necessary costumes should entitle him to one of the most liberal emoluments in the establishment ; but it is very rare that his income equals that of others whose expenses for presentable properties and apparel fall for short of those demanded by the subject of our sketch. This is the only reason we can assifrn for his general disinclination to remain as the exponent of those very necessary parts of the dramatis jyersonm; but eagerly seizes the first opportunity to ob- tain a more elevated position, for the purpose of increas- ing his pecuniary consequence, not unfrequently to the serious disadvantage of the very best works. So long as our hero has the good fortune to retain his youthful appearance, he is eagerly sought after by mana- gers who have an eye to the tout ensemble of their pro- ductions, but when obesity exerts its sway, and ruthlessly destroys the romantic form that has so often pined in the anguish of unrequited love or parental opposition, then must he look back to his days of conquest of female nature, and — painful though it be — confess that he must read up for the more adaptable position of the heavy business. 224 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. THE DKAMATIC WASHINGTOIf. That necessary adjunct of the theatre, "The supers," have, from time immemorial, been the source of extreme amusement to dramatic auj:liences ; the more youthful of whom delight to assail them, should they be left alone upon the boards, by the appellation of "supe," which op- probrious epithet they generally bear Avith a martyrdom extremely praiseworthy. The indifference they invari- ably exhibit to the startling incidents going forward around them, is a striking exemplification of, either the profound contempt they entertain for the profession into which chance has thrown them, or the equanimity of a temperament that cannot suffer itself to be disturbed by events of a suppositious character. It was an opinion very freely expressed by an old man- ager of mine, " that supers Avere the pest of his dramatic life ; " for, he was accustomed to urge, " expend as much money as you will in costumes, import trappings and ha- biliments direct from the hands of the most skillful man- ufacturers, and when you have done all this, your hair will stand on end, when you behold the terrible result. One will present himself with a polished steel helmet the wa-oncf side in front, or a colored cravat will peer beneath the splendid gorget of another. ISTot alone is your sense of propriety shocked at these, and similar acts of absurdi- ty ; but, despite the efforts of the super master, they Avill occasionally present themselves at most unseasonable times and places, such as resting one of their legs over the arm of the king's chair, or expose their head and shoulders behind the scenic compartments of a transpar- ent lake, where they are sure to be saluted with a boist- erous recognition from the audience. An accomplished actor, well known in his profession, has labored for many years under the conviction that, rOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 225 when appropriately costumed, none can so much resemble the Father of his Country, as himself. When regularly made up for the part, he is disinclined to reply to ques- tions of a trivial nature, assigning as a reason, " that it distracts his mind from the position into which the as- sumption has elevated him." To a mind of such poetic tension the herein related incident, in which the super plays a prominent part, must have caused the most painful anguish, viz : A patriotic spectacle had, for its last scene, an allegori- cal design, representing the great Washington, in com- pany with the Goddess of Liberty, making an ascent, sur- rounded by clouds, while the populace were to pay adoi'a- tion in an attitude of reverence ; upon which picture the curtain should descend. When the great man stepped upon the platform, he there discovered a super reclining upon the very spot designed for himself. He was astonished beyond meas- ure, — such a thing had never happened before. There was no time to seek the stage manager, for the tableau was about to be discovered ; therefore he was obliged, much against his will, to hold a parley with the intruder, with the following result : Washington. Hollo ! I say, you ! This can't be, you know ! Super. Why not, old boss. Washington. Never heard of such a thing in all my life ! Go down ! Super. Shan't do it. Say, what's the use o' talking. There aint no room down there amono: that crowd. I was told to put myself near here, and I'm bound to see the thing through. Washington. But no one can have instructed you to get up here. You'll spoil the piece. My good man, go down at once ! - 10* 226 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. Super. JSTot I ; I shan't spoil the piece. Washington. I tell you, you will. This is Heaven, and no one goes there but Caroline and myself. The super was insensible to his appeal, and stood his ground till the curtain descended. CHAPTER XVIII. " To be merry best becomes you; for, out of question, you were born in a merry hour." Much Ado About JVothing. Act 2. /Scene 2. MOSE IN CANADA. To be favored by nature with a continuous and un- wearying stock of happy spirits, is a blessing vouchsafed to few. Such natures shed a halo of jollity around their fellow mortals, which cannot be too highly prized for the blessings it diffuses. They are sunbeams breaking through the haze of sombre humanity to illumine the pathway of our worldly pilgrimage. Every Avtinderer can carry his thoughts back with pleasure to some period of his histo- ry when, amid the gloom of weariness, some genial spirit has burst upon the scene, and beguiled the tedium of many otherwise dull and irksome hours. Let not my readers suppose I am about to indulge in a dissertation upon that nearly extinct si^ecialty of Amer- ica, y'clept Mose, in support of the position assumed at the beginning of this chapter. My subject has a distinct existence, and well deserves a niche in my kindly remem- brance, for his companionship at a time of professional depression. Winter in Canada is far from a favorable period of the year for transmission from place to place, in any given length of time, despite the extensive appliances at com- mand of the railroad officials. I turned lazily in my bed on the morning of a day in the month of January, and peering through the window 228 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. blind looked out with a discontented spirit upon the streets of Quebec; with the painful conviction upper- most in my mind that I had, at all hazards, to set out on a journey in order to reach New York as speedily as pos- sible. Shiveringly I made an attempt to get into my clothes, which, from the extreme severity of the weather, seemed to have been changed in the night, and to be the proper- ty of some person of much larger circumference than I was, while the rapidity and ease with which I deposited my right foot into its usually tight boot, sufficed to con- vince me of the wonderful power of contraction by cold, more satisfactorily than all the scientific asseverations T had heai'd and read, upon that very interesting subject. Descending to breakfast, I encounter several brothers in prospective sufiering who, after having pai-taken heart- ily of the good things for which the Russell Hotel is dis- tinguished, wrap and^ fold themselves into all sorts of curious devices, with furs and mufflers, and are tucked up in their sleigh to cross the St. Lawrence to Point Levi. Who is that massive individual Avith gorgeous side whiskers, of the most distingue cut, partially concealed by the ear pieces of his fur cap ? He is on the platform, awaiting our arrival, with his leathern bag swung across liis capacious body. He receives the compliments of the morning from the majority of the passengers, and returns it with a countenance suflfused with such unalloyed mirth, that the perils of your journey are speedily forgotten. To all who have travelled between Montreal and Que- bec, " Mose " is well known ; and his existence is as much a matter of the neighborhood's history, as the time table records are of the number of miles you diminish from your starting point, till you reach your destination. Portly in flesh, and plethoric with good nature, he poises himself upon his capacious legs, and reviews the train of FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 229 voyagers, as they deposit themselves in the carnages of the Grand Trunk Railway, about to start upon their way from the latter to the former named city. The bell rings to prepare for moving ; our conductor, " Mose," not like the athletic attendant who bounds upon the last platform with a show of perfect security — but having deposited himself beyond the possibility of acci- dent, gives the signal, and we are off. Who has not a vivid remembrance of being aroused out of a comfortable doze at the end of every quarter of an hour, and being commanded to exhibit those detest- able coupons ; and who has ever forgiven the cruel de- spoiler of his rest, who insists upon seeing "that ticket," after its possessor has, with persistent ingenuity, erected a resting place which he designs to dedicate to " nature's sweet restorer ? " Rigid philosophers, associates of institutions for the diffusion of knowledge, members of congress, at whose gatherings withering anathemas are wielded in vocal conflict, lose their potency of argument, and become pas- sive suflTerers, at the assaults of this barbarous and des- potic custom. The popular impression favors the idea that this mode of torture, being in itself a simple and necessary proceed- ing, cannot be much abridged or modified without de- stroying the time-honored privilege of the institution of which it forms an important part. To those who incline to this belief, I would suggest a journey with the subject of my thoughts, and the supposition will be speedily dis- pelled. By the potency of his ensemble, you will find your- self a grateful recipient of the privilege of occupying a seat in his conveyance. Such was my sensation, when I made his acquaintance under circumstances to which this chapter refers. Two of the strongest locomotives were put into requisi- 230 rOOTLIGHT FLASHES. tion to give battle against a pelting snow-storm, and for a time seemed to get the best of the affray ; a vigorous and persistent relay of the enemy's forces, however, poured such a torrent of ammunition in our path, that the iron contestants were obliged to capitulate, and being brought to a state of helpless inactivity, stood belching forth their yells of despair and mortification, at a small station about seventy miles west of Quebec. The snow was packed into mountainous deposits of such magnitude, that I wondered how many months of genial warmth it would take to liquify it ; when we were all acquainted with the fact that it would be desir- able to make the best of our condition, and prepare to console ourselves with the belief that our stay at our present resting plate might extend to a period of some considerable duration. Loud and violent were the complaints of the passen- gers ; one old gentleman was prepared to take his affida- vit that he had never known a solitary instance wherein the company had faithfully performed their contract to the public. Another, a lady of very choice material, and whose back hair was coiled over to the front, and curled with desperate severity, to aid in a laudable desire to countei-feit juvenility, was on the verge of epilepsy, but recanted at the indifference manifested at the project, and relapsed into an abstraction of the last novel, while the majority met the difficulty with the spirit of philoso- phy usually begotten by the exigency of stern necessity. Darkness soon came upon us, huddled together in a small apartment used as a waiting room by the few patrons who resided in the vicinity of the place. It was lighted with a flickering, but strongly perfumed oil lamp suspend- ed from the roof, which shed a cheerless ray of comfort upon the faces of the occupants, as they gathered around the newly ignited stove. Benches and boxes of all kinds FOOTLTGHT FLASHES. 231 were speedily hunted up, and resting places improvised upon which to pass the night. A store of wood is laid in, and every person is anxious to do something to ame- liorate the condition of things, and for the common good. After conferring with the engineer, our conductor en- ters the telegraph office, and communicates to head quar- ters the position of affairs, and solicits assistance ; this important and necessary duty performed, he is at liberty to mingle with the company, and be bored with sugges- tions of all kinds, in relation to our deliverance, to which he listens with great relish, and even makes a feint of adopting, much to the satisfaction of the proposers. The lady passengers compose themselves to sleep ; save one, attired in common apparel, who has a fractious child that continually asserts its distaste of surrounding objects, and is not appeased till its parent, with the imtiring heroism of her sex, has walked to and fro, long into the silent hours of the night, and when sheer exhaustion as- sumes its sway, and holds its revel in forgetfulness. Mose forms himself into a committee of " one," and taking possession of a small ante-room adjoining the tel- egraph office, charters a brakesman to provide, as best he can, for the wants of a select number of congenial spirits. The arrangements completed, he issues invitations in per- son, and prepares to play the part of host for the night. As we enter, we find him at the head of a small table, looking very much out of proportion with the size of the sti'ucture, chanting his favorite ditty, complimentary to the other sex, somewhat in the following strain : " There are girls, with raven hair, • And lips, a luscious pair. Whose coral richness vanquish us, Then jest at our despair. Then in anger should we pass To some blonde, and sprightly lass, Whose glance of witching loveliness All others can surpass. 232 FOOTLIGHT PLASHES. " Fill the cup with sparkling wine, And while draining, ne'er repine, But homage pay to beauty, For tis a joy divine. So we'll toast the lovely fair With the light, or raven hair. Who conquer us poor mortals, And jest at our despair." &c. &c. Amidst the jollity of the night, he steals away to as- sure himself that the lady passengers are as well disposed of as circumstances will permit. To the more needy one who, with her fractious little charge, is pacing the floor, he offers comforts not sparingly bestowed, but lav- ished with a cheering welcome, that wealth can never purchase. There are moments of an actor's career when the pro- grammes of the performances set forth with great bold- ness, the assertion that "The public are crowding the the- atre to repletion, to pay homage to the talent of the dis- tinguished artiste who is at the time honorinir the build- ing Avith his presence, and powerful rendition of charac- ter," but when the luckless one shall divest his mind of the poetry of this manifesto, he will probably arrive at the painful reality that his efforts are sufficiently remuner- ative to satisfy the claims of the landlord and the printer; leaving him to banquet upon his well-earned laurels only. It was during one of those interesting episodes of my adventures, that I found our hero the oasis of a profes- sional desert. The sun was shining brightly in the month of Septem- ber. A company of riflemen were going through their manoeuvres witj^ wonderful exactness in the square front- ing the officers' quarters, inside the citadel of Quebec. I was watching them with pleasure and curiosity, when my ears were saluted with, " What ho ! my noble lord. How fares it with your excellency?" FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 233 There can be no mistaking that voice, thought I, as in turning round, I recognised our adolescent friend, en- joying the refreshing breeze from the river St. Lawrence. He strikes an attitude as I approach, his face beaming with mirth. As I make towards him, he assumes the manner of a well known Canadian manager, and in aloud whisper exclaims, " Jack's come, by heavens, we're safe, we're all right now! I knew it. I was sure he'd be here, — never mis- taken in Jack." This being the said manager's customary manifesto when announcing the arrival of his property hoy, whose pres- ence in any one of his towns, he considered quite suffi- cient to inaugurate a season, and carry it satisfactorily and profitably to its close. We had not seen each other for two years. Sickness had dealt him a heavy blow, from which he had not ex- pected to recover ; yet his hilariousness had not forsaken him. For the balance of themornino: he resraled me with all sorts of oddities, and during the process of the dona- tion of my services to the people of Quebec, (for I can- not regard my visit in any other light,) he constantly smoothed the pathway of my labors, for the which I de- sire to record my grateful acknowledgments. Finally, dear reader, if you propose to indulge in atrip through Canada, fail not to travel with Mose. If you ai-e a victim to hypochondria he will, by his genial deportment, do much to assuage your melancholy. If your nature is inquisitorial, I will venture to affirm that he can impart sufficient information to appease any native of Connecti- cut who ever quitted his parent state. There are those under the firm impression that, should he adopt the posi- tion of purveyor for the weary traveller at any one of the numerous resting places with wliich this continent abounds, he is just the man of all others who could keep an hotel. 234 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. While willing to concede any amount of convivial honor that can possibly be thrust upon him, I most con- scientiously affirm that, if unfitted for the above severe and popular test of excellence, he is just the man who can conduct a train. THE TRAGEDIAN. Sensibly alive to the status he occupies in the public esteem as the expounder of the loftiest creations of the most distinguished poets, the tragedian unconsciously wraps himself within the folds of classic dignity, even when not engaged in the exercise of his professional call- ing. An habitual reserve would seem to say " excuse me if I temper my appreciation of your joke with a stolid regard for high art, befitting the conduct of one who is amongst the most celebrated of its professors." Of his early association with the best society we are constantly made familiar, from his own undoubted, and unprejudiced authority. How well he remembers, as if it were but yesterday, the frequent gatherings of high ofiicial personages ai'ound the family board ; where he was permitted, in virtue of his great primitive ability, to occupy a seat at the table, from which he only seceded to be borne in triumph to the drawing-room — when the ladies withdrew, — where his extraordinary perception of character, (for his age) together with his personal beauty, was the theme of conversation for the balance of the eve- ning. If it be conceded, as laid down by a great poet, that the man who drinks beer will think beer, it surely must be terrible to believe that one, the active part of whose life is passed in the utterance of the loftiest forms of po- etic excellence, should be somewhat imbued with senti- ments and aflinities of a corresponding character. This is the only explanation we can offer for the frequent meta- rOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 235 physical bearing of the subject of our sketch ; though it by no means marks the character with sufficient exactness to establish the affinity of a principle. Some thei-e are, whose jollity, under the influence of convivial surroundings, would lead tlie observer to believe they worshipped at the shrine of Thalia, and not Melpo- mene ; and they not unfrequently rise to greater distinc- tion than their more serious cotemporai-ies. " My dear fellow," they will say, " you have no poetical responsibility; you make the people laugh — and they, unfortunately for art — don't care by what means you do it ; but we tragedians have all the weight and interest of the play to sustain through five acts; the physical effi)rt of which — apart from any other consideration — is labor of the most distressing kind. With you, it is very diffiir- ent, for how few — even those who set themselves up for critics, trouble their heads about the consistency of your representations." In the provinces, the tragedian is viewed with a larger amount of concern than usually greets him amidst the din and bustle of a populous city. There, on the natal day of the greatest of poets, he will join a choice circle of ad- miring spirits wdio assemble once every year to utter their warmest encomiums on his matchless productions ; and after a wholesome fortification of the good things of this life, he will, in virtue of his office as " the unworthy ex- pounder of the poet's creations, propose a silent ovation to his memory, coupling it with a few remarks on the progress of art, from the period when Euripides bequeathed his eiccantic effusions to the world, down to the time when so humble an individual as himself, is permitted to lend his poor ability to the perpetuation of the drama," concluding with a fervent hope " that the sister arts may speedily hail the advent of another mighty mind, to add lustre to its intellectual progression ; then shall the harp 236 rOOTLIGHT FLASHES. of the minstrel, the chisel of the sculptor, and the pen of the poet, blend in educational grandeur throughout the universe." Havino: lashed his hearers into that state of imbecile candor they are prone to fall when they feel on the best terms with themselves, the company depart with a firm conviction on their minds, that their dramatic friend would have distinguished himself equally well in any one of the learned professions, had it pleased fate so to have disposed him. Our hero is frequently clamorous on the decadence of the drama, and evinces his desire for its intellectual wel- fare, by sacrificing himself within the toils of manage- ment, where the productions of the choicest Avorks of the best dramatists shall be his chief and positive aim. The prefatory advertisement sets out with the assur- ance that talent of every grade shall, in this "model tem- ple " meet Avith that fostering care commensurate with its due; but it does so happen, either from the scarcity of ability in the first roles, or that those in possession of that gift have nobler purposes in view, and turn a deaf ear to the pressing invitation, that the public are A'cry seldom called upon to sit in judgment on the merits of any whose success would be likely to conflict with the pro- fessional status of the manager, Avhose unremitting en- deaA'or it is to mould the public mind to the belief that none can so worthily embody the best parts, as he who thus immolates himself upon the altar of their instruction and amusement. The serious characters in the best com- edies that fall to his charge are, by no means, welcome visitors. Nor does he very readily admit the same justi- fication for objection on the part of the comic strength of the establishment, who consider themselves ill-placed in the subordinate ones in tragedy. In most instances, our hero brings to his aid in the ex- FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 237 ercise of bis professional calling, a gentlemanly deport- ment on, as well as off the stage, backed by liberal educa- tion, and a nice discrimination for the purposes of his art. His emolument is usually the largest in the theatre, and many have passed the evening of their days in the com- fortable possession of a competence, derived from their exertions while in active service. Some there are who, being soured by the imagined neglect of the public, have quitted their brothers of the sock and buskin with a dignified disgust which nothing can assuage ; and after lingering around the atmosphere of their old associations for a time, betake themselves to that forlorn hope of educated incapacity, i. e., "The Lecture Room," where they are usually greeted with frantic exultation by a class who view with an eye of envy all institutions (save their own,) and cherish a deserter from the dramatic camp with a tenderness and regard, typical of that bestowed upon the stray lamb who sought admittance within the precincts of sancity and truth. There, surrounded by a halo of apparent piety, our hero has been known to descant with a penitential visage upon the numerous wickednesses be perpetrated by adapting himself to the exercise of his much maligned calling, savoring his recantation with the most ingenious accounts of incidents long grown threadbare in the minds of adepts of romantic lore. Emboldened by the belief that a wholesale tirade levelled against the art dramatic will be seized with avidity by his new found admirers, he will contribute to the literature of the country a volume most liberally charged with their popular belief, wherein he will show for future clerical reference, how the youth of both sexes can never find so fitting a sphere for the consummation of their total ruin, as the exercise of a profession for whose perpetuity the great master minds 238 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. of all countries have scattered their matchless gifts in luscious profusion, despite the clamor and warning of the self-elected purveyors of morality and virtue. It is scarcely competent to believe that the early in- struction imparted by an indulgent and highly educated parent, while struggling against the limited income of a provincial position, and more liberally bestowed when he attained to the summit of his art, should have produced, in some singular instance, so uncongenial a result. It is nevertheless undeniably evident, that when the play-going public, with an obstinacy for which it is remarkable, can no longer be induced to believe that the subject of our sketch is the greatest actor of his age ; his discontent can find no more fitting channel for ventilation than an im- mediate secession from the recusant camp. Few there are who do not, when in the decline of life, cling more closely to the afiinity of professional love ; and it is only with a view to embrace the several charac- teristics of those whom I have encountered in my pil- grimage, that I ascribe any personal allusion to "The Tragedian. " THE JOB ACTOE. In a part of the city where the thirst for progression and improvement has recently erected dwellings replete with conveniences, within the limited resource of the re. spectably disposed, affording the occupants all the out- side splendor of the private family mansion, with the in- ternal seclusion of domestic hermitage, resides the Job Actor. You enter one of these hives of humanity, dignified by the high sounding name of " Hotel," and find yourself in a hall very much contracted in space, but brilliantly furnished with a gaudily printed oil-cloth, and plentifully supplied with gas light. You ascend the stairs, the edges FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 239 of which are studded with copper-headed nails, or provid- ed with a strip of zinc to economize the structure from the constant wear and tear it is subjected to by the myriads of passers up and down. The higher you ascend, the lower becomes the amount of payment you are called upon to disburse for the priv- elege of occupying a suite of apartments in one of these rapidly increasing domains. An overlooker, or purveyor of the strict j^ropriety of the building, occupies an apartment near the entrance, who unites to the duties of that office, the genteel art of mil- linery, and dress making. If you are in doubt of the precise location of the party you propose to visit, you so- licit her aid in procuring the necessary information, and are there apprised that the back room on the fourth floor, is the point of your destination. You ascend, counting the flights as you go. You reach the landing considera- bly excited in respiration, and knock at a door. After a little delay the key is turned in the lock, and a lady, whom you have most unceremoniously disturbed at her toilet, I')resents one half her countenance, and in reply to your enquiry directs you to the other end of the landing. You pause ere you again venture, till approaching footsteps de- cide you to wait till they reach your locality, and you are soon face to face with the lad who carries a partially con- cealed loaf of bread under his arm, and from whom you are instructed with the required accuracy. The job actor is an exotic entirely of American na- tivity ; begotten conjointly by the exigency of the times^ and the shrewdness of managerial cupidity. You find him surrounded by his wife, and four children. He is busily ensrao-ed in the manufacture of a huge black beard, with which he has to provide himself for the approaching sensation drama of the " Inca, and the Dromedary," and in which he is to enact a recluse who exists iu the depths 240 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. of a forest, and supports himself on berries, and other fruits of a similar kind with which the neighborhood is supposed to be plentifully supplied. " Aha ! old fellow, how are you. Here I am, hard at it, as you see. ' The labor we delight in j^hysics pain.' Mary, give me the scissors, and some more crape hair. Thank you. Well, what's new ? Find a chair somewhere, won't you ? How are things at your place, — how's the business^ eh ? The press don't seem to think much of that last piece, rather shaky, I should say, eh ? Hope it won't affect the company. Sure to keep open, I suppose ? " You cannot help feeling grateful to our friend for pro- pounding so large a list of questions without waiting for an answer. He is probably aware of the unsettled condi- tion of your respiratory organs, from the distance you have mounted in order to pay him a visit. You are glad to see him, and soon express as much. Times are changed since you first met. He was single then, a favorite with every audience before whom he appeared, and regular- ly attached to one of the first class theatres of the city. Changes of management brought about the usual exercise of friendly interference on behalf of others, jjerhaps no less worthy, and he felt himself distanced in his profes- sional position Avithout being able to assign within him- self a satisfactory reason. The rapid increase in his fami- ly, with occasional sickness, had bound him by stern neces- ity to the great city, with a hope that things might mend. He was certain his habits were unexceptionable, he had a good wardrobe, was always j^erfect in his author, atten- tive to the business of the scene ; and the audience, Avith whom he was still a great favorite, ever ready and willing to acknowledge him by their i)laudits. He had a part in the new piece at the Theatre, but the duration of his engagement was to be regulated by the run of the play, and he saw but little hope of employment for the ap- FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 241 proacbing winter season ; further, he was compelled to ac- cept about a third of what be was honestly worth ; being assured by the manager, that although he Avould like to have him in the cast, he should give no more salary to any one, and numbers could be provided who would readily accept the terms. You suggest, knowing that your old friend possesses some literary ability, that he should endeavor, by the exercise of his pen, to add to his income. " No use, my dear boy. I've tried that long ago. May be very well for those who have a position, and can get their articles accepted, but the humiliation is not over pleasant to outside talent of whatever grade ; I did, some time since, two articles for a popular publication ; their scale of payment entitling me to six dollars, which I was only able to obtain six months after it was due, and after numberless applications. In another case I prepared an article for a magazine of world-wide reputation, on a subject I was advised to believe of a very interesting character to the general public ; but the reader of the concern, who was himself in the habit of writing, and deeply attached to subjects of a metaphysical nature, re- jected the contribution, assigning as a reason for so doing, that it was too Uiclcens-y in style to suit them. Thus every avenue appears to be closed against me. However, we must hope for the best; let's have a smoke, and forget our troubles in the fragrant weed." We lighted our pipes and chatted over past incidents of our career, enlivened by the cheerful presence of one of the best of wives and mothers, who, despite the state of the exchequer, always sweetened the family meal with the spirit of contentment and satisfaction. I very- soon had the pleasure of congratulating my friend on the success of the new drama, and his conse- quent full measure of employment for the winter ; hap- 11 242 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. pily relieved from the necessity of watching with eager gaze the dramatic cohimn of a leading daily paper, to find that a certain establishment is about to fall into the hands of a party who desires to surround his managerial speculation with those who are of acknowledged position in the profession, and that none other need trouble them- selves to apply at the box office of the theatre at a stated hour the followina: morninfif. Punctual to the time, may be seen several of the frater- nity of the art, who affiect a nonchalant air on the subject of their present mission, waiting the result of an applica- tion that shall enable them to look the next month or two in the face with confidence, and whereby they may keep the domestic machinery in motion without difficul- ty- Those whose employment is continuous, can scarcely realize the full measure of misery such a system is fraught with, to the actor. At best, a profession of great un- certainty, is that of the stage ; this system of brief en- gagements has reduced it to the verge of pauperism, which no one possessing the instincts of respect for him- self or an art to whose service he has, perhaps, devoted the best period of his life, can long submit to. It is pleasing to state, that the provinces have not yet reached this highly ingenious method of professional tor- ture. An opportunity presents itself at any moment for some person of an adventurous nature, to inaugurate the system. PALMY DATS OF THE DKAMA. This is an expression so often used by old play goers, that it leads to the supposition that, in those much and frequently lauded times, it was only necessary to throw open the doors of a theatre, to have the public immediate- ly take possession of the building. FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 243 The following illustrations will show that some of the greatest artists have not unfrequently api^eared to most indilFerent houses, viz: " lu the year 1822, during the season at Drury Lane London, the receipts for many nights did not amount to more than fifteen or twenty pounds, while the expenses are stated to have been more than two hundred, and this when such names as those of Elliston, Ilarley, Cooper, Fitzwilliara, Knight, Gattie, Braham, Mrs. W. West, Glover, Oger, Misses Forde, Povey, Smithson, Copeland, etc., etc., of very considerable talent, were often combined in the performance of some of our best tragedies and comedies. I well remember, for I was a member of a company at the Ipswich Theatre in 1841, that Mr. William Farren played six nights, and the gross receipts of the entire per- formances only amounted to sixty pounds, ($300). And at the commencement of the season at Colchester, in Es- sex, also belonging to, or forming part of the Norwich circuit, the receipts to the performance of "London As- surance," and the pantomime of " Sinbad, the Sailor " only reached the munificent sum of £1 10s. (17,50.) I have met with numerous instances of a cessation of hostilities on the part of the public, to patronize the choicest performances, while those of a quality that have been universally condemned have met with the most sig- nal success ; indeed, an old and very worthy manager of a small circuit in the west of England, once assured me that all through his career, when he had, with a desire to give the public the full Avorth of their money, engaged persons of good professional capacity, he had always found his balance on the wrong side, when he came to square up his accounts. But, on the other hand, when his people had been so glaringly inefficient that he felt really ashamed of suflering them to exhibit their lack of 244 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. talent before an enlightened public, the said public had willingly paid their spare cash to see them ; and while yielding him a good profit, expressed no dissatisfaction at the worthlessness of the repast. A critic who flourished in iSTew York in 1832, gives a quaint description of that classic temj^le of the drama, the Park Theatre, in these words : " The Park Theatre has long been the admiration of every one who has never seen any other, and has invaria- bly met the warm approbation of those who understand not a word about the matter. The beauty of the outside is a matter of serious astonishment, consisting of the best quality of colored plaster, variegated by straight lines, which are ingeniously intended to imitate cracks. In- deed, the munificence of its owners has sj)ared neither plaster nor brown paint, to impart to it a sombre cast ; and anxious for improvement, they have changed it from its former color, which was yellow, here and there black- ened with smoke, to one of becoming and unvaried brown." Again, " The scenery of this astonishing exhibition is admira- ble in the extreme. The same street answers for New York, London, Paris or Madrid, the most distant part of Russia, or ancient Greece. I was much edified by a ban- quet scene, where Selim, in the "Bride of Abydos," fires his two pistols, each of which killed his man. The scene changed, but as one of the bodies in the agonies of death had fallen too far out, it was knocked against by the half of a handsome palace, which was just then making its appearance. The poor dead man, seeing no one near to take him away, concluded he had best do it himself, and actually jumped up with great agility, and scrambled out on all fours, upon which the audience were manifestly de- lighted, and gave him three rounds of applause, accom- panied with many gratified smiles, in token of their pleas- ure at his unexpected recovery." FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 245 I was also assured by the late Mr. Wallack, that dur- ing one of his performances of " Coriolanus " at the same establishment, one of the principal scenes of the tragedy was the same as exhibited in the afterpiece of " Aldgate Pump." CHAPTER XIX. This was a venture, Sir Merchant of Venice. Act 1. Scene 3. LOTTERIES. Games of chance have an apt connection with dramatic life, as those who have speculated in the venture of suc- cess, and come out of it, losers both in pocket and spirit, can painfully testify. Accident often yields the sinews of popularity, when years of toil and perseverance never would have reached the coveted goal. The great sensa- tion achieved by Tyrone Power in the compulsory rep- resentation of an Irish character, which led to fame and fortune, exemplifies this fact. If I felt disposed to be personal, which I mean careful- ly to avoid, I might point to numerous instances where members of the sock and buskin have, a7id do expend lai'ge sums upon the several lottery institutions, in the hope of achieving a fortune for the trifling investment of a few dollars. I beg to assert, that I am not one of these, nor have I ever supposed that the most ingenious astrologer could, in contemplating the date of my nativity, deduce a horo- scope that should elevate me to the dignity of wealth, out of the regular course of daily and nightly labor. Lotteries, although abolished in the Northern states, are still an institution of the South ; and it was during the season of 1856, while fulfilling an engagement at the Gaiety Theatre, New Orleans, that I made the casual FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 247 acquaintance of one of these corporations, with the most gratifying result. In the house whei'e I resided, lived an English gentle- man named Barnet, who had on divers occasions been the fortunate winner of small amounts, just sufficient to whet the appetite for a bolder venture. Vainly he en- deavored to persuade the several occupants of the house to join him in investments of large bundles of coupons, but they had. carefully registered a debtor and credit ac- count of his transactions, and finding him with only his labor for his pains at the end of every year, felt no de- sire to speculate, I was "like manna in the wilderness" to him, and, although I never indulged a hope of any favorable result, because I looked back to the period of my pilgrimage when I affixed ray signature to raffles for sets of crockery, and other fragile articles for domestic use ; which had to be — when won — presented to some stationery householder, because unadapted for purposes of locomotion, I yielded to his entreaties, much to the amusement of the malcontents under the same roof The sum of two dollars and fifty cents was deposited in his keeping, as the half of a sinking fund, with which we had a fiendish desire to impoverish the state of Georgia ; and vouchers for the amount in mysterious nu- merals, duly exchanged. When the drawing came in, I had won five dollars, be- ing in possession of the concluding number of the capital prize. My friend needed no further confirmation to con- vince him that this was an omen of certain success at any subsequent investment, and retained the above sum for the purchase of tickets in the Havana lottery. When the result of this distribution became known, I held a ticket within three numbers of the largest prize of one hundred thousand dollars. Barnet was in ecstacies at the prospect, but I couldn't 248 FOOTLIGHT PLASHES. see any foreshadowing of success, though I readily assent- ed to a further risk o^five dollars in the Maryland lottery, drawn at Baltimore, December 20, 1856. I placed tlie tickets in my writing desk dismissing the subject, in the hurry of business, entirely from my thoughts. It is no wonder that I felt a sense of uneasiness, when on going to the theatre one fine morning early in the month of January 1857, the door-keeper informed me that a gentle- man, in a state of great excitement, had been seeking me, and without leaving his name, hurried away, jDromising to call again. At the conclusion of the scene wherein Matty Marvel- lous expatiates uj^on the luxury of a romantic disposition, I was apprised of my friend's re-appearance, and at the first convenient moment repaired to the stage door, where I found Barnet in a great perspiration, and chew- ing tobacco in the most reckless manner. No sooner did he get sight of me than he roared at the extremity of his ability, " We've got 'em this time." " Got who ? " mildly enquired I. " 17,108, 1 tell you," returned he. " Well, what of that," urged I. " Capital i^rize," he gasped out. . " Whose capital prize ? " I desired to know. My apathy about what at the moment I did not really comprehend, having entirely forgotten the Baltimore tickets locked in my desk, evidently disgusted him, and he walked away a few paces to recover himself. Dislodging the fragrant weed from one side of his mouth, only to place it in the other, he returned, took me by the arm, and walked nearly a block in silence. While I was cogitating upon the possibility of some com- mercial eruption having unbalanced his mind, he return- ed to the charge, thus : FOOTLrGHT PLASHES. 249 « Look here D., you do not seem clearly to understand the pleasing motive of my visit to the theatre just now ! It was to acquaint you with the fact that the Baltimore drawing arrived this morning, and records that 17,108 is the capital drawn prize ; consequently, as we each hold an eighth, we are both |5,000 richer' thereby. Drawing from his pocket a printed list in confirmation of his assertion, he stopped in an entry to enable us to read it, and give him an opportunity to watch the effect produced thereby. I will not attempt to deny that I experienced a sensa- tion of pleasure as the truth of the matter became more firmly rooted in my mind, and as Barnet stopped every body in the streets whom he knew, and apprized them of our good fortune, it is no wonder that a highly colored account (in so far as regards the amount) appeared in the next day's journals. Had the distinguished poet who bequeathed to the world the trite proverb that " The study of mankind is man," been a resident of the western continent, lie would probably have seen the necessity to amend his conclusion, and substitute dollars for man. Such, certainly, were the feelings which impressed me, as I suddenly found I was of so much commercial consequence that skillful agents applied for the pleasure of negotiating the payment of my newly acquired independence. Not alone did the resident artists in this peculiar and some- what indefinite occupation solicit the pleasure of a busi- ness transaction, but so soon as the account reached New York, those accomplished traders who understand so well the science of scattering money to the best advantage, did me the favor to suggest investments of the most eligible character, which, had I availed myself of, might ere this have placed me upon the high road to wealth ; at the same time it is more than probable that a cowtrary issue might have been the result of my temerity. 11* 250 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES, The following is a copy of one of four applications I received, having one of these ends in view. It is a fair sample of the proposals; and this is the first opportunity I have had of offering my thanks to the Secretary of one of the firms who most liberally warned me of the instabili- ty of a neighboring concern ; and presented such a glow- ing description of the financial condition of the house in whose interest he was employed. {Copij.) Wall Street, New York, January, 22, 1857. William Davidge, Esq. Dear Sir, — We beg to direct your attention to a most eligible investment in the Mining Association, by which very large profits can readily be made. We enclose prospectus, and shall feel great pleasure in placing a limited number of shares at your disposal. An early reply will be desirable, in order to make an equitable distribution of the few shares remaining undis- posed of. We are, Dear Sir, Your obedient Servants. &Co. My friend Barnet made a purchase of some Louisiana State stock. The last I heard of him, his investment was down to thirty cents upon the dollar. The present condition of that section of the country would seem to justify the conviction that the principal, along with the interest, is now lost to him, and his heirs, forever. The following summer I was at Laura Keene's Theatre playing an engagement, and was waited on by a gentle- manly looking young man, who said he had business of i some importance with me. 1 requested him to wait a few rOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 251 moments, and, as soon as I had finished rehearsal, joined him at the stage door; and while walking to and fro at the back of the building, the following colloquy took place. Stranger. I believe, Mr. Davidge, you are well acquaint- ed with the lottery business ? Davidge. There you are in error, Sir. I know noth- ing: at all about it! Stranger. Indeed, you surprise me, I thought you had won a large jsrize in New Orleans, last winter. Davidge. True, Sir, but I know nothing of the mat- ter, save that, by accident, as it seemed to me, I became the winner of five thousand dollars. May I beg to be put at once in possession of the object you have in mak- ing the enquiry. Stranger. Certainly ! As you have been in the habit ot playing at lotteries — Davidge. Excuse me ! I have not been in the habit of doing anything of the kind. I was a winner, as I told you ; but since that time, have never invested one dollar in any similar venture. Stranger. (Evidently disappointed.) "Well, I have a proposal to make, by which each of us might possibly realize something: handsome. Davidge. Indeed ! what is it ? Stranger. I am an agent for the sale of tickets. I have had a place in Bleecker St. for several years, and all I have ever got, has been simply a slight commission on the sale of the prizes that I might happen to sell. The Mayor seems determined to stop us, and before I give up I should like to make a few hundred dollars for all the trouble I have had, Davidge. By all means, but in what way could I aid in so desirable a result? " Stranger. "Why, I have a friend in Delaware, who un- 252 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. derstands how to communicate with me in secret signs ; I have also a friend in the operating room at the telegraph office here, and the three of us perfectly understand one another. I have to deposit the unsold tickets in a sealed envelope at 12 o'clock each day of the drawing. Now, there is a difference of nearly fifteen minutes in the clocks at the two places. My friend at the other end of the line would transmit (as I have explained,) the lucky number to my other friend here, who will meet me on my way down Broadway, and by a preconcerted signal ap- prize me of the result. I retain the numbers, if not al- ready sold, and still reach the office time enough to lodge the package, and the same night could bring you the for- tunate ticket, which you could regularly present on the following morning, and deducting a small percentage for my friend's trouble, we could share the consequences. Davidge. Yes, it strikes me that the consequences might be rather unpleasant than otherwise ! Be good enough to tell me why, if you have arranged this combination in such a masterly way, you don't complete it so as to keep it entirely amongst your personal friends and acquaint- ance ; why confer the favor upon an outsider, and more than that, Avhy select me as the chosen one ? Stranger. Why, if I were to try any one I knew, it might arouse suspicion ; and further, knowing how the thing was arranged, they might refuse to give me my share, and I should be compelled to bear it in silence. I left him with the assurance that he was in error in making me the recipient of his very ingenious device ; and suggesting that he possibly took an illiberal estimate of the character and probity of his acquaintance who, what- ever their natural fliilings might be, could scarcely resist doing justice to the great master mind that had begotten such a method of recruiting an exhausted exchequer. FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 253 DEFEAT OF THE AMERICANS, AT THE MIMIC BATTLE OF MONTEREY. Soon after the success of American arms in Mexico, a drama was produced at the Bowery Theatre,, entitled the " Battle of Monterey." The master of the supers was in the hahit of engaging for Mexican soldiers gentlemen of the Hebrew persuasion, from the neighborhood of Chatham Street, to whom he paid fifty cents per night for their services ; while those who personated the Americans, were more easily obtainable from the ordinary supers attached to the theatre, and who only received twenty-five cents for a similar service in their nation's cause, being well satisfied with the honor of victory. On the first Sabbath of the Jews, the usual soldiers were not to be relied on for punctual attendance, consequently some Americans had to be enlisted for the night. The opportunity for a joke was too good to be lost, and the new recruits availed themselves of it, by refusing to be beaten, or surrender, but gave their opponents a sound drubbing, tore their flag from them, and scattered them in every direction, much to their astonishment, and the enjoyment of the friends who had been apprised of the intention, and who witnessed the scene from amongst the audience, with much gratification. THE WESTERN ENTHUSIAST. The members of any profession or calling must at all times be flattered by a favorable recognition of his pow- ers, regardless of the terms employed for the utterance of the eulogium. The familiarity of the genuine Western traveller has long been a matter of notoriety to those who have visited that extensive section of the country. 254 footliCtHt flashes. In 1856, 1 acted twelve nights at the theatre in Louis- ville, Ky. The commencement of the engagement prom ised a profitable and satisfactory termination to my visit, and in anticipation of pecuniary delight I was inhaling the aroma of a mild Havana at the door of my hotel, when I was accosted by a good looking specimen of the West- ern hunter, with a desire to be made acquainted with the present state of my health, in the not very original ex- pression of, " How are you ? " Adopting the usual method of meeting one question with another, I rejoined,, " How are you ? " This seemed to satisfy him conclusively, and drawing a chair beside me, and arming himself with a formidable quid of tobacco, he commenced the attack. " I seed you last night ! " » Indeed, did you ? Hope you were pleased," replied I. " Pleased ! well, I guess I war ! — Say, do you remem- ber Kirby ? " " Perfectly," said I. " He were a rouser, he were ! I sold him a dog once ! '' "Indeed!" Before I had time to reflect upon the singular circum- stance of my friend's disposal of one of the canine race to the once popular actor, my informant placed me in pos- session of the numerous points of excellence for which the animal was distinguished ; with the method he had employed for his instruction from his infancy till he reached the proud altitude of dog's estate ; together with the exact amount of money expended in the purchase. I had a desire to contribute to the enjoyment of this accidental encounter, and began to take a retrospection of my past history, in order to furnish a parallel to the event just recorded, but nothing of similar importance recur- FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 255 ring at the moment, I (as a subterfuge, I admit) sought information in regard to the statistical history of the city, l^ast and present, without dieting much knowledge on the subject. I had evidently not sounded the key note of my friend's specialty, and while I was beating about for a congenial theme, was desired by him to adjudicate be- tween the relative merits of two prominent members of my profession. There was little time to evade the enquiry, for my com- panion went into a glowing panegyric of his favorites in dramatic art, giving no quarter to those who were not so fortunate as to hold a jDlace in his esteem, till he signified his positive intention of quitting his present mode of life, and at once assuming the dignity of tragic grandeur. " Now look here ! " he began. " How long would it take to learn your trade ? " I assured him that that would depend entirely upon the aptitude of the student. For myself, I had been more than twenty years in harness, and I was frequently re- minded in my own estimate, of glaring inefficiency in many things. Further, — talent did not at all times com- mand success, or ensure position and profit. Those who labored under the impression that acting was simply a trade, confounded the art itself with the practice of it. Though I was willing to admit the oft quoted axiom that " the test of genius was success," in its pecuniary sio-nification, I had in numerous instances witnessed tal- ent of the highest order languish and decay, from lack of encouragement, while those who were not encumbered with more than a certain modicum of business tact, or the privileges of their sex (if of the female gender,) have soon distanced their accomplished cotemporarie^. My friend readily acquiesced in this conclusion, and as an earnest of his faith, announced his determination to devote the balance of his days to the best interests of the tragic drama, as he felt conscious of a brilliant success. 256 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. " I'm a great hand at learning anything, said he," I've seen a great deal of acting in all the Western cities. And though I don't believe I could, at first, come the Mac- beths ; I'll bet any man five thousand dollars I could run the Macduffs clean up to the handler I never saw him after the expression of this threat, therefore am not aware if he perpeti'ated his design. Neith.er has any information reached me that the con- queror of the Scottish monarch has ever been placed in the unenviable position above referred to. A CONVIVIAL AUDIENCE. Columbus, in the state of Ohio, is not distinguished for its profuse patronage of the drama even at the present time, when they are in possession of an extremely elegant and convenient theatre. Years ago, before the building was in existence, attempts were periodically made to cre- ate a taste, but seldom with much pecuniary success. It was during one of these doubtful investments, that the followinof unusual scene occurred. The play commenced to a very limited number of pat- rons, and proceeded with that dull aspect of solemnity which always characterizes a scanty attendance, till it came to the second scene in the second act, when Mr. Par- ker the manager, who acted one of the principal parts, ad- vanced to the footlights and addressed his patrons in the following manner : " Gentlemen : You have done us the fiivor to assemble here to-night, for the purpose of extending your patron- age to the exponents of an intellectual entertainment. We feel deeply the compliment you have thus generously designed, and individually and collectively tender you our thanks. That you have not been more extensively emulated by the inhabitants of a location that proudly rears its head as the capital of a thriving and intelligent FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 257 state, is matter more for pity than wonder. Your object is to seek a pleasing combination of the two essential ingredients of our nature, for without a blending of the intellectual with the social, so imperatively demanded by our physical and mental organization, how dull and mo- notonous would be our existence. It must be painfully evident to you as it is to me, that with the present influ- ences that surround you, such a desirable consummation is totally impossible. The important, not to say educa- tional mission, with which we are charged, cannot be faithfully disposed to such a limited number of recipients. Desirous as I am to add to the amusement of my fellow man, particularly under the pressure of unforeseen disaster like the present, and to curtail as much as possible the monotony of the time, I do myself the pleasure of bring- ing this very uncongenial meeting to a close, and invite you all into the saloon next door to " Take a drink ; " and they did it. CHAPTER XX. " I will persevere in my course of loyalty." King Lear. Act 3. Scene 6. THE LOYAL MARINE. Makt amusing incidents are recorded wherein persons on the stage have positively refused to utter sentiments, or perform acts contrary to their feelings. I have heard a leader of an orchestra declare that he would not occupy his seat, if expressions wei-e uttered reflecting upon the honor of his native land. Some years ago the late Mr. Burton produced the "Battle of Waterloo," at the Arch Street Theatre, Phila- delphia, at considerable expense, but was at his wits' end to find efficient men for soldiers, for the several ensasre- ments with which the piece abounds. Chance made him acquainted with the captain of an English man-of-war, whose vessel was then lying in the river, who politely offered to send his marines to the theatre, and thus re- lieve him from a great difficulty. Rehearsal came, and the piece proceeded with satisfaction till the last act, where an incident happened in the dramatic version which gave rise to this story. The scene was a corn field, where an engagement took place between the French and English, the former mak- ing breast works of the sheafs of corn, and after a pretty heavy melee, the English had to retreat and leave the French masters of the field. FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 259 All this was fully and clearly explained by the man- ager, who superintended the rehearsal in person. When, all on a sudden, one of the crew most resolutely, and with powerful saline expressions, refused to comply with the business of the scene. The manager expostulated as best he could. "My dear fellow," said he, "it is necessary for the business of the scene, that it should be so arranged." "He didn't care about anybody's arrangements, but he'd be darned if he was going to retreat before any in- fernal Frenchman." The manager was in despair, and again begged, for the sake of the performance, that the marine would waive his objection, for the piece couldn't be done without it." " To the devil with the piece, then," said he, " for what I care, for never shall it be said, that I ever beat a retreat before a Frenchman." " Well, then," said the manager, " I'm very sorry, but your services are really of no use to me." " All right," said the marine, " heave ahead, boys," and proceeded to quit the theatre, followed by his crew, when one of the party stepped vrp to the despairing manager, and assured him it should be all right at the performance, and that he would appease the malcontent. " Leave him to me, I'll lead the way, and he will be sure to follow." The manager permitted the incident to pass, hoping for the best, and proceeded to the conclusion of the rehearsal. In the evening the house was crowded, and all moved safely and satisfactorily. The two first acts terminated with deafening applause, and the audience were enraptur- ed with the military skill exhibited by all concerned. As soon as the third act commenced, the manager re- paired to his room to dress for the last piece, inwardly priding himself upon the great managerial skill he had displayed in the production of a piece that was sure to replenish bis exhausted treasury, when a tremendous 260 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. shout of laughter intruded itself upon his ear, and his expressive lace went through a long list of contortions at the supposition, that a serious scene he had himself pen- ned, in order to give time for a heavy set by the carpenters, was exciting the risibilities of the audience, when he had designed it for a contrary result. He stood aghast, with a portion of his wardrobe in his grasp, as the prompter burst into the apartment, livid with fear and dread. Seizing his important officer by the throat, the manager desired to know the meaning of the disturbance. " Oh, sir, pray come, that marine ! " " What of him ? " screamed the lessee. " Oh ! sir, he'll murder somebody." Pushing his way towards the stage, the first thing that met his astonished gaze, was the malcontent of the morning, beating about him right and left with the butt- end of his musket, upsetting the miniature breast-works, and as an incentive to the act, singing " Eule Britannia " at the top of his voice, totally regardless of the efforts of his companions to subdue him, or the bursts of laughter from the audience The above is but a slight illustration of the various mishaps which sometimes occur, either from ignorance or design, upon the stage. While writing, I am reminded that one evening during the j^erformance of the Octoroon at the Winter Garden, a child, who represents a negro, during a serious scene deliberately dismantled itself of its woolly hair, for the purpose of scratching its head. The audience laughed immoderately ; at which the child, quite unused to the stage, grinned in recognition, and made a low bow for the supposed compliment. rOOTLTGHT FLASHES. 261 BEADING A PART OK THE STAGE. The task of reading a part on the stage in such a man- ner as to give it the tone consistent with its character, is a difficulty very few actors have been able to surmount. To one at all practised in the profession it is much easier to improvise the dialogue necessary to conduct the plot, than have recourse to the book. During one of Mr. Barney "Williams' successful engage- ments at the Broadway Theatre, a piece called " Crossing the Atlantic " was produced, in which he enacted an Irish peasant, who took passage from Liverpool for New York^ in search of his sister. The second or third day after it was first acted, Mr. Williams was taken so seriously ill, that his appearance before the public was an efibrt im- possible to accomplish. It was on the fourth of July, I was quietly attempting to keep as cool as convenient, when the messenger arrived with a request that I would be on hand at the theatre in the evening, in order to assist as well as I could in the dilemma. When I reached the Broadway, about three quarters of an hour prior to the opening of the doors, I was solicited by the manager to read the part assigned to Mr. Williams. I declined to do so, but offered, if they would furnish m£ with the following items, I would go on the stage and say something to the purpose, viz : The name of the character. Where he came from, and what his object was in coming to New York. The name of the sister he was in search of; and, If he spoke the tag of the piece, what was the purport of if? With these materials I managed to get through with apparent satisfaction, and without serious annoyance to those concerned with me. Not so when Mr. Goulson, at the Bowery Theatre, had to read a paper in which the name of " Claude Frolia," 262 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. occurred. The stage carpenter, in order to increase the di- lemma he saw Goulson was laboring under from his ina- bility to dicipher the writing, turned down the gas light at the wing where he stood, and when the unfortunate G. came to the name, he called it " Claude Duval ! " Mr. Stevens, the stage manager, whose play it was, rushed upon him as soon as he quitted the scene, to know what he could mean by spoiling the piece with such non- sense. " What's the matter ? " said Goulson. " The matter ! " screamed the infuriated managei". " My hero was a monk, but you have made him a thief! " " Soi-ry for that," said G., " but I couldn't see very well, I only knew of two Claude's — Claude Melnotte, and Claude Duval. I felt certain it wasn't the former, and therefore thought it must be the latter." BAENET WILLIAMS AND THE INDIGNANT PATLANDEE. In the early part of Barney's career, he occasionally acted at the Chatham Theatre. In the neighborhood of where his mother resided, there liv^d a lad who was fre- quently employed by him to assist in placing his baggage on board when he left the city for provincial engagements, but who had not the slightest notion of the nature of his occupation. On the evening he was to commence at the Chatham, Jemmy was entrusted with the wardrobe required, and was asked " if he would like to see the play ? " " To do which, sir," said Jemmy. " To see the play ? " said Barney. « Faith, I would, sir." " Did you ever go to the play ? " was the next ques- tion. « Faith, I never did, sir." " Come along, then," said Barney, and off they started FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 263 for Jemmy's first visit to the theatre. Entcrmg by the usual stage door, Jemmy was relieved of the bundle by Barney, who instructed him to ensconce himself in a pri- Tate box, near the stage, with full instructions to remain till the people had quitted the house, and he would join him. The play was the one in which Ragged Pat appears. No sooner did Barney make his «?ifre, than Jemmy fixed his eyes upon him with the greatest wonderment, but without the slightest scintillation of pleasure. Barney ob- served this, and mistook it for the natural difiidence of his disposition, but concluded he'd liave him when he danced his celebrated jig, in the next scene ; his surprise was by no means lessened when this act made him more stoical than before. The song will not fail to fetch him, mused Barney, he can't resist that, I'm sure. Even there he was mistaken ! not a muscle of his face moved, but still kept its blank expression, while the audience were apparently delighted, and signified their approval by a rapturous encore. The entertainment over, Jemmy was in waiting, in obedience to orders, when the following colloquy took place. Barney. Well, Jemmy, how did you like the play ? Jemmy. Ah ! well, Mr. Williams, I'd rather you didn't ax me now. Barney. Why, Jemmy? Jemmy. Ah, sure now, I'd rather be excused, that's what I would. Barney. Nonsense, I should like to have your opinion. Jemm.y. You'll not be oflTended, sir. Barney. Offended, not a bit of it ; out with it. Jemmy. Well then, since you insist upon it, if I must tell you my mind ; it strikes me it would be more to your credit, if you'd be imitating the dirty Dutch, than making game o' the Irish. CHAPTER XXI. THE LAST ONE. " God'ild you for your last company." - J.S you like it. Act 3. Scene 3. The incidents that have crossed my path in the course of a long and laborious servitude, as here set down, are those only of a nature that could be likely to afford amuse- ment to the general reader. It would afford me more pleasure than I can readily ex- , press if I could, without violating the sacred precincts of private correspondence, recount the numerous instances of social gratification I have derived from so many sources since my arrival in America. It is at all times flattering to one whose pursuit is either of a literary, or inventive character, to find a congen- iality with his mission, and a due sense of his presumed usefulness. The members of the profession to which I belong, have perhaps a better opportunity of judging the various and distinct idosyncracies of society at large, than those whose pursuits are of a less observant necessity. Accustomed to the close study of peculiarities of our fellow-men, Ave are ever ready to detect tlie counterfeit from the genuine, bur- nish it howso'er they may. It is often with regret that we find that faculty intrudmg itself upon our notice. Still a large i^roi^ortion of our brethren exist entirely in a world of their own creating ; FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 265 Their life is one long, round of rehearsal in the morning, and acting in the evening. Many can find little leisure for mental culture. It is no uncommon thing during a novitiate, for an actor to study and act in the space of one week as much at forty lengths * and at times even more than that. It is recorded of Munden, an actor of great ability, and the original old Dornton in the " Road to Ruin," that on Dibdin, the author, explaining to him the nature of the part of Dozey in " Past Ten O'Clock," and referring him to the then highly popular novel of Tom Jones, for the counterpart of the old watchman ; he admitted he had never read it, and further, that he couldn't find time to peruse anything save a play book, and then only the part he was called upon to enact. The struggles and privations of an actor's life have be- come a matter of peculiar, and frequently exaggerated history ! The bright lights of their characters have too often been most sparingly presented, while the darker shades with which ignorance and bigotry delight to robe their victims, have been laid on with a vigor of color, un- rivalled for the disposition of the details, and unapproach- able for the profundity of its imagination. It is only just that a pi'oper respect and regard should be paid to the dignity of labor, yet it is notorious that while a large portion of the public evince a profound es- teem for mechanical excellence, they look almost with an air of indifference on artistic, or literary superioity. This aversion is more strikingly evident where the mind is, early in life, impregnated with an intense desire to ac- quire afiluence, to the utter and total exclusion of that wealth of the mind which is the key stone to civilization and advancement ; and it may be matter for serious re- *Forty two written lines constitute a length. 1-2 266 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. flection, whether customs of traffic, with all the unavoida- ble misrepresentations or adroitly concealed facts with which commerce is always surrounded, do not harden the sensibility of many natures which never can be overcome. It would be an uncongenial task to trace causes to effects, with metaphysical obduracy. The truth forces itself upon the notice of every artistic observer, intruding with un- mistakable severity into the domestic precinct, with an arrogance as unjust as it is ungenerous. Presuming this position to be accurately sustained, it must be admitted that the public is at fault when it regards literary and ar- tistic pursuits other than an indispensable necessity for the perpetuation of human greatness. A review of the lives of the members of the dramatic profession will exhibit as many phases of excellence as that of any other pursuit ; while their infirmities bear no analogy either in extent, or heinousness. As a class they are charitable to profusion, affectionate sons, and loving daughters, willing to aid and assist at all times, their fellow laborers, even beyond their available, or consistent ability. The crime of thoughtlessness and improvidence may with truth be laid to the charge of some few ; but it is a matter for serious reflection, whether these failings cannot be more readily atoned for at the " Great Judg- ment Seat " than the practice of selfishness, or the arro- gance of wealth, with which many of their most strenu- ous enemies delight to invest themselves. A pamphlet entitled " The Drama Defended "* very extensively noticed by the press of America, was written by me in 1858, with a desire to j^lace the members of my profession in a proper and equitable position with the public. It cannot surely be urged with any amount of justice *Published by S. French, 122 Nassau Street, N. Y. POOTLIGHT FLASHES. 267 that, while the clergy, the bar, and numerous other pro- fessions, — the first named most particularly — are amen- able only as i?idividuals, for their crimes or misdemeanors, that the children of Thespis should, from the dereliction of any of their brothers, or sisters, have their entire race V tabooed and stigmatized as a class unworthy to share or take j)art in the socialities of every day life. That the profession of the stage has its black sheep, no one will attempt to deny. Where is the flock without these despoilers of their fair fame ? Yet, it is notorious, that their errors are but venal ones, while statistics will un- deniably prove that there is no calling extant, taken nu- merically, that can present so few instances of offence asainst law and order, as the members of the dramatic body can proudly boast. It is sometimes considered that the only tangible ob- jection that can be advanced against the stage is, that the surroundings lead to a mixture of the sexes, danger- ous to morality, and fatal to the interests of society at large. Yet, with a singular inconsistency, as it appears to me, no similar charge is levelled against the factory system, Sunday evening services, and many others where the sexes mingle, and where more impropriety is constantly exhibited, most glaringly evident to any observer who will take the trouble to watch the retiring crowds from the several churches. Is it somewhat paradoxical that such a sudden and virulent attack of theatre preaching should have broken out a year or two since. Reader, what doth it portend ? Is it with the benign intention of bearding the lion in his den, or is it with the hope that the theatre, being accus- tomed to receive a fixed tariffs the devotionals may be induced to donate the usual play-house prices rather than satisfy their consciences by the very popular three or five cent offerings ? If this be so, it proves incontestably 268 rOOTLIGHT FLASHES. that the love of dollars burns as effulgent in the heart tliat beats beneath the clerical black, as under the commer- cial blue, or mechanical grey. To those who look with that degree of charity on all classes and degrees which should ever distinguish the liberal mind, it will not be out of place to adduce a speci- men of bigotry, and supreme ignorance, almost unparal- leled. It is an opinion proclaimed from the pulpit in one of the churches of Kingstou-upon-Hull in the year 1792, (verbatim from Wilkinson's Wandering Patentee) a very poj)ular manager of the York circuit, where many of the most celebrated actors that have graced the London stage, graduated ; " No player, or any of his children ought to be entitled to a christian burial, or even to be in a church yard ! Not one of them can be saved. And those who enter a play- house are equally certain Avith the players of eternal dam- nation. No player can be an honest man." It was from such mouldy and absurd trash as this, that the Romish clergy of old imbibed their presumptuous au- dacity to withhold christian burial from actors, and the Puritans have contended for the extinction of the most popular and humanizing amusement, (not to say instruc- tion) extant. If the church could be a little progressive, it would at once see this absurdity to be quite as gi-eat as the old Grecian legislative act, familiar to most of us, of suppress- ing the study and practice of physic, with the declaration that honor and life ought never to become matter of dispute. Nearly one hundred years elapsed before Aristrato, who was a nephew to Aristotle, re-introduced the medical art with any hope of a favorable reception. The defects of the stage are only excrescences, they FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 269 disgrace the trunk, but cannot vitiate it. It has sufficient strength to permit the eradication of all and everything that is objectionable and flourish with tenfold vigor ! It is not composed of the deleterious qualities which bigotry, fanaticism, and ignorance would endeavor to persuade the world it is. The charity of some of its members is fully established in numerous ways. Among the most prominent, stands that masrnificent structure " Dulwich Collesce " founded by Edward Alleyne, where the indigent, to this day, ofier up their prayers to heaven for the comfort and shelter afforded by the donation of a j^rofane stage play- er. When I had examined its several apartments and sauntered into the trimly arranged garden which surrounds this peaceful dwelling place, my thoughts led me to the substance of a sermon delivered by the Rev. Mr. Best of Sheffield, then fresh in my recollection, in which the actor was unconditionally despatched to perdition for his sinful calling. A very old man came hobbling along, but newly risen from dinner. I watched him as he took his seat beneath the shade of a large elm tree, and putting on his glasses composed himself to read from a book he drew from his pocket. After a few moments I approached and address- ed him. He rose immediately, and politely offered me his seat, which I declined. As delicately as possible I drew from him his history. It was the usual torrent of mis- fortune that had pressed him down in the financial scale, till, with advancing years upon his head, he had been com- pelled to avail himself of the institution that so fitly ad- ministered to his comfort. As I walked away with the words of the divine ringing in my ears, I cherished a love for good deeds, and won- 270 FOOTLIGllT' FLASHES. clered with Othello, whether, " There were no stones in Heaven, but what serve for the thunder," I am somewhat prolix upon this subject, because I de- sire to lend my poor ability to aid in establishing amongst the liberal minded, a feeling of generosity towards the profession of Avhich I am a member. In doing so I am influenced by no vain gloriousness, or idle antagonism to- wards the really devout and christian churchman ; con- ceiving as I do, that as there are in our frail natures " weeds of every soil " so there are abundant evidences of meekness, humility, and unerring zeal in the cause of charity, probity, and devotional usefulness. I am pleased to be enabled to record the pleasure I derive from two good and charitable spirits whom I frequently meet in social harmony, and from whom I always part with a feeling of regret. I expect to be asked why I make these pointed allu- sions to the maligners of the stage in this place ; and if it be necessary, or politic so to do. In reply I would say, that so long as I have been in a position to judge of the merits of the subject, I have never shrunk from the defence of my craft from the at- tacks of the cowardly assailer. The many occasions I have committed my thoughts to paper on this theme, both in America, and England, must be fresh in the recollec- tion of all who take an interest in the subject. Forming, as these controversies have, a portion of my professional history, it is presumable that my readers should expect some allusion to the motives that have led me to pursue it, with a dogged perseverance somewhat akin to the earnestness exhibited by the opposing parties. Thus then it was. When I was about fifteen years old, the church I at- tended had for its pastor a resolute old gentleman of an FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. 271 austere visage, and a pair of eagle eyes which seemed to strike terror into the hearts of refractory boys, and late ar- rivals. It was his wont to adapt, with the most ingenious sojDhistry, any incident of every-day disaster that happen- ed to turn up, and so interweave it with his text, that you found yourself corporeally, as well as spiritually at Rome, striving to catch the analogy of his application to the eternal city, during a carnival week, and the burning of a ship-yard on the banks of the Thames, where two men had unfortunately lost their lives. An individual, callous to the science of natural laws, had, while in a balloon, conceived the notion of taking a downward trip in a parachute, and killed himself in the attempt. This was a splendid chance for our friend, the parson, who made the best of it on the following Sunday, by sending his congregation home with the assurance that they were all in the condition of the man in the para- chute. When the Brunswick Theatre in Goodman's Fields fell, on the morning of the 23d of February, 1828, while the company were at rehearsal, he saw in this conclusive evi- dence that- it was Heaven's judgment upon a number of wretched sinners, Avhose occupation was adverse to every form of Christianity ; which he attempted to show by a reference to the history of Sodom and Gomorrah, or the parable of the unjust steward, I forget which. He was a good solid hater of amusements of any and every kind. " If you want recreation," he would say, " you shall find it in prayer. If you desire music, you can enjoy it in the de- licious song of the bird — Nature's own chorister." I have since heard a gentleman in Brooklyn, while descanting upon the enormity of opera amusement, laud the brilliant execution of the mosquito, with similar enthusiasm. " Do vou need intellectual nourishment ; listen to me three times on Sundays," he would continue. 272 FOOtLIGHT FLASHES. About this time I conceived a notion that, in order to attain to the summit of dramatic art, it was necessary to acquire a thorough knowledge of the science of elocution. I have, long since, made the discovery that no person thus trammelled has ever reached that coveted goal ; for this purpose I made the acquaintance of an actor who lived in the suburbs of London, and was then under en- gagement at one of the minor theatres on the Surrey side of the Thames. He was a jovial, honest hearted fellow, teemino- with anecdote of odd incidents connected with his professional career, and with a wife and about half a score of children, had to exercise great prudence and economy to keep the domestic machine in motion. I watched this man's habits for months. I scanned every action of himself and family. I saw with sorrow the struggle of a generous, noble nature, against poverty and prejudice. A pious friend, with the best intention for my welfare, had furnished us with Jeremy Collier's tirade against the stage ; the 'parson at our church had been pounding a similar doctrine into me, from bis pulpit, whenever opportunity served. Then it was that I began to peer into the- intent and purport of these defamers ; then to look upon those more searchingly who bore in silence, and resignation, with the avenues for their defence barred by the taint of prejudice the stigma that ignorance had cast upon them. Then to compare by statistical research the relative proportion of offences committed against the laws ; and the result — with shame belt known — exhibits a terrible record of every grade of sin against those whose text should be in imitation of their divine master: "Peace, charity, and universal love." It is no disparagement to our natures to assert that cu- riosity is one of its most formidable, and distinctive pe- FOOTLIGUT FLASHES. 273 culiarities ! and there is no class, or calling, tliat presents so many opportunities wherewith to indulge, or gratify this passion, as the theatre and its connections. Impress- ed with this belief, I have essayed to furnish materials that, it is hoped, have tended to appease this voracious desire ; flavoring the meal with such sprinklings of inci- dent and anecdote as should impart to it an agreeable zest, and relish. The time honored supposition that has for ages perva- ded the minds of many persons, in relation to the birth, parentage, and education of the children of Thespis, as we are poetically termed, is not attempted to be dispelled, for the reason that, to destroy or strip a delusion of its mystery, and clothe it in its materiality, would only em- barrass, but could scarcely hope to satisfy the cravings of a class who delight to indulge in the speculations of the theorist. The vanity of placing this book before the public, in an autobiographical shape, was suggested by a friend of literary aptitude, who, in his zeal for my welfare, has pro- bably inflicted an injury upon his own best patrons ; which years of unremitting ability may not enable him to liqui- date. The book, such as it is, was commenced during a va- cation of professional labor ; it therefore afibrded me the pleasure of being in sympathy, as it were, before my numerous friends, the public ! And it is most earnestly desired, when it shall be placed in their hands, that the afiinity of the delusion may not be dispelled. Opinions of the merits of my contemporaries I have most carefully avoided ; in like manner that in sketching the peculiarities of my professional brethren 1 have dealt in generalities rather than personalities, which I with sub- mission consider only conjures a resemblance in the minds 274 FOOTLIGHT FLASHES. of those who are the most likely to feel piqued at the portraiture. If the list of my dramatic friends be augmented by this evidence of my desire to speak on their behalf it will af- ford similar satisfaction to that I shall experience, if the public will henceforth on the stage regard me with no less favor for this very small addition to the ranks of literature. THE END. i u^ 7-^ t 1 rti** A ll^lPV ^' „ ''«3UillVJiU' ^OF-CAllFOMj^ 1 1 1 (jniypfsilv 0* California Lo^ Anqeles IIIIIIIIIIIIIIM 4 L 005 493 001 1 -< UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY AA 000 411 636 4 5S2 * t E a r ^\r^ - .af 8«till ff ftr>f. v1 g ^1