BERKELEY LIBRARY V UNIVERSITY OP CALIFORNIA -Iff* Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2007 with funding from Microsoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/eminentactorsintOOhammrich Eminent Actors in Their Homes =2 V Eminent Actors in their Homes Personal Descriptions and Interviews BY MARGHERITA ARLINA HAMM Twenty Illustrations New York James Pott & Company MCMII Copyright, 1902, by JAMES POTT & COMPANY Enter ed at Stationers' Hall, London First Impression March i, 1902 Press of J. J. Little & Co. Astor Place, New York H3 Preface rHE sketches which compose this volume are based upon personal studies and interviews by the au- thor^ and are intended to give the reader a more or less complete view of the home- life enjoyed by members of the theatrical profession. Nearly all of the studies were made within the preceding twelve months. A few were made prior to that period, and are founded upon memories rather than memoranda. The author begs to acknowledge her indebtedness to the actors and actresses, who are mentioned in this work, for their courtesy and friendly aid. Without this, it would have been impossible to have gath- ered the material which is here presented for the first time. [v] 069 Contents Page Introduction : The Actor and His Home i I. Edward H. Sothern — Virginia Harned-Sothern in West Sixty-ninth Street, New York . 9 II. Richard Mansfield — Beatrice Cameron-Mansfield, Their Lares and Penates .... 25 III. Marie Bates, Her Home in East Thirty-first Street, New York . 41 IV. Elsie de Wolfe at Her Own Hearth 53 V. Minnie Maddern Fiske at Home 67 VI. Annie O'Neill at Home and Abroad 79 VII. Edward Harrigan at Schroon Lake 91 VIII. Annie Ward Tiffany by the Sea-shore 103 IX. May Robson, the Domestic Side of a Great Artist . . . . .113 X. David Warfield at Leisure . .125 [vii] Contents Page XI. Viola Allen, Her Domestic Gods 137 XII. Francis Wilson at the Orchard 151 XIII. Julia Marlowe on Hearth and Heath 165 XIV. Annie Russell, Her Mansion and Bungalow 183 XV. Amelia Bingham and Her Many- sided Home . . . . . . 197 XVI. Burr McIntosh in Many Roles 211 XVII. Chauncey Olcott, the Domes- tic Side of a Nomad . . .223 XVIII. James K. Hackett — Mary Mannering-Hackett, Their Home Life 237 XIX. Mr. and Mrs. Robert Edeson at Home 251 XX. Joseph Jefferson, America's First Actor — His Inner Life . 267 XXI. Otis Skinner in Town and Woodland 281 XXII. William H. Crane and His " Fishing-Box " . . . .291 [ viii ] Contents Page XXIII. Mary Anderson de Navarro, Mistress of the Court Farm, Broadway, Worcestershire. . 303 XXIV. Nat C. Goodwin — Maxine Elliott-Goodwin, Their Home on the Old Kent Road . 313 Index 327 [ix] Illustrations Interior of the Players' Club, Gra- mercy Park, New York . Frontispiece Facing Page Edward H. Sothern, Virginia Harned-Sothern . .}•■ A comfortable corner in their home. Richard Mansfield, 1 , Beatrice Cameron-Mansfield / The tapestry room in their home. Elsie de Wolfe 54 Her drawing-room. Minnie Maddern Fiske 68 At home. Annie O'Neill 8o And her son. Edward Harrigan 92 His cottage at Schroon Lake, New York. Annie Ward Tiffany . . . . .104 Her house at Buzzard's Bay. May Robson 114 Her dining-room. David Warfield 126 His study. [xi] Illustrations Facing Page Viola Allen . . 138 Her boudoir. Julia Marlowe 166 At Highmount. Annie Russell 184 Her art treasures. Amelia Bingham 198 In her salon. James K. Hackett, ^ Mary Mannering-Hackett J ^ In their study. Mr. and Mrs. Robert Edeson . .252 Their morning-room. Joseph Jefferson 268 At his easel. William H. Crane 292 In his " Fishing-Box." Mary Anderson de Navarro . . . 304 A portrait. Nat C. Goodwin, 1 Maxine Elliott-Goodwin J In their music-room. [xii] Introduction The Actor and His Home Introduction The Actor and His Home IN no field of American life has there been greater development than in things the- atrical. It is difficult to realize how vast a change has occurred between the begin- nings of the nineteenth and the twentieth cen- turies. One hundred years ago there were few places of amusement, and a mere corporal's guard of actors and actresses. What playhouses existed were to be found in the larger cities. In the smaller cities there was a strong social and religious prejudice against stagecraft, which went so far as to oppose the mildest sort of amateur performances, and even to point the finger of narrow-minded scorn at charades and similar parlor entertainments. There was no playwright worthy of mention, and almost no dramatic literature to be found in any library. The few theatres of that time were pitiful in their poverty and slender resources. The very best were inferior to those in the larger towns of this country to-day. The illumination was by means of candles and a few lamps. In winter there [3] Introduction was scarcely any heating apparatus, so that audi- ences sat in overcoats and mufflers, while upon the stage there was a paucity of scenery, cos- tumes, paraphernalia, and conveniences, which seems like a relic of barbarism. The playhouses were very small, and the prices charged so low that it is difficult to understand how managers and actors succeeded in obtaining a living. At the present time every city, and nearly every town, has one or more theatres. In the larger municipalities they are numbered by the score, while in addition to these are numerous halls, and even parlors, fitted with stages and scenery, so that a theatrical performance can be given at a moment's notice. The illumination is of the most modern sort, the gaslight of a few years ago having been almost universally replaced by the electric installation. In capacity such in- stitutions as the New York Metropolitan Opera House and the Chicago Auditorium seat, the one three thousand four hundred, and the other eight thousand persons. Our literature has been enriched by the contributions of more than fifty dramatists of high and low degree, while in the past forty years over two hundred volumes have been written upon the biography, history, art, and memorabilia of the stage. Prices have [4] The Actor and His Home grown in proportion, and the rewards of play- wright and actor will now compare favorably with those of the wealthy professions. With this financial development there has been growth in all other lines. The cheap fustian and calico have been replaced by cos- tumes whose historical accuracy, fashionable elegance, and splendid luxury have in many cases made the play a school of fashion and historical research. The modern auditorium is furnished with all the conveniences and beauties of a home, and upon the stage are expended the best labors of the painter, upholsterer, and art designer. Wealth brings social recognition and advancement, and the actor of to-day enjoys a fashionable prestige unknown in the annals of the past. In many cases he is a social lion before whom all kneel in homage. This very wealth enables the professional to gratify his personal and domestic tastes to an almost un- limited extent. Where the actor of 1800 lived in lodgings or poor hotels, his successor of 1902 occupies a city residence in the winter, and a country seat in the summer, which in comfort and enjoy ability will compare with those of any other prosperous class in the community. The popular impression that actors are nomads [5] Introduction is not borne out by the fact. Taken as a class they certainly are as domestic as people engaged in mercantile pursuits, and are more so than members of the other professions. This, of course, refers to their tendencies rather than to their actual living. The exigencies of their call- ing keep them on the road or away from their homes a large part of every year ; but when they are at liberty, two-thirds of them retire to private life, and generally lead as quiet and regular a home-life as can be imagined. While home-life generically is uniform, yet it varies with each individual, and, to a certain extent, with each class. The theatrical profes- sion is one which calls for mental rather than physical exercise, and involves study, knowledge, and training. These become matters of habit, so that an actor in vacation time is usually prone to adopt modes of recreation which in- volve intellectual effort. As might be supposed, it is usually of a different sort from the work of the remainder of the year. A majority pur- sues some pleasant hobby or fad, such as floricul- ture, horticulture, art-photography, and paint- ing, nature study, or exploration. Many devote themselves to reading on a large scale; several cultivate the muse or pursue courses of severe [6] The Actor and His Home study. Among the favorite recreations are fish- ing, hunting, riding, driving, swimming, sailing, travel at home and abroad, social reunions, and forest parties. In the selection of its homes, the majority prefers to be near a large city or summer resort. Only a minority cares to get away as far as possible from city life. Nearly all prefer a home to a hotel. Almost every summer num- bers of them form little colonies, but these are seldom permanent. Of late years there has been a noticeable tendency toward having homes, especially summer homes, in the suburbs of the large cities. In this respect they have followed the example of the opulent element of New York, which is gradually converting the environs of the metropolis into a series of coun- try seats and family estates. Their home-life is notable for its variety and hospitality. An actor's mode of living tends to develop cosmopolitanism and a love of art, literature, and music. His opportunities for securing oddities and curios are numerous, and nearly all take full advantage of the situation. In this way, by degrees, their homes become filled with objects of beauty and interest, until many of them are little museums. In furniture and [7] Introduction household decoration they exhibit admirable taste, and nearly every residence, both city and country, is a joy to the art-loving critic. The hospitality for which the profession is famous is merely one side of a warm, generous, and un- prejudiced disposition. Upon the stage there is a fraternal feeling and an altruistic sentiment which are partly a survival of past conditions and partly the expression of existing tendencies. There was a time when it was a vital necessity for players to act upon the motto of "The Three Guards- men," cc One for all, and all for one." The necessity no longer exists, but the conditions and emotions to which it gave rise are still a delight- ful feature of theatrical life. This aiding the unfortunate is universal, as is the extension of good-fellowship to all who come within the domestic circle. The stage is allied with the press, the studio, and the sanctum. The four callings in many respects form one brotherhood, and in the thespian home may be found the editor, poet, painter, and playwright as honored guests. Those who have had the opportunity of joining these circles will bear testimony to the happy atmosphere of intellectuality, kindli- ness, and brilliancy which from time immemorial has been their characteristic. [8] Edward H. Sothern Virginia Harned- Sothern In West Sixty-ninth Street, New York £ S ^ d k c3 <3 I Edward H. Sothern Virgin ia Harned- Sothern In West Sixty-ninth Street^ New York A S you stroll from Columbus Avenue ZJm along Sixty-ninth Street to Central -^L *M* Park, your eye is bound to rest with delight upon one of the many handsome build- ings which mark that thoroughfare.. In its type it is like the adjacent mansions, being tall, well-built, and showing the best effort of the builder; but in its external decoration it is so unique as to be an oasis in the architectural desert of the block. In front of the windows is graceful Venetian iron-work fashioned after the finest designs of the Renaissance. The curving lines of each grillage form a space which has been utilized by the owners for a miniature garden, where evergreens add color to the house front. Japanese dwarf plants sug- gest travel in the antipodes, and swaying vines recall Tennyson's description of the land of the Lotus-Eaters. ["] Edward H. Sothern Artists pause to smile approval as they pass by, and the camera fiend seems never to tire of taking snapshots of the place. This is the home of Edward H. Sothern, the great actor, and his brilliant wife, who upon the boards is known still by her maiden name of Virginia Harned. Here they are to be found when not engaged in the active pursuit of their calling, and here they hold open house to the circle of friends and admirers of which they are the joint centre. When you pass the portal, you find that the element of individuality is not confined to the exterior. If possible, it is more marked within than without. It is, of course, difficult to pro- duce much variety within the narrow limits prescribed by the domestic architecture of New York City, but within these limits the clever oc- cupants have fairly exhausted their ingenuity in devising pleasing effects and artistic surroundings. The hall, wide and roomy, seems to say, " Wel- come." Old-fashioned furniture lying loosely around invites you to sit down and rest. Riding whips, canes, and golf-sticks indicate the love of the open air and of athletic sport on the part of both master and mistress. Mild tints, dashes of scarlet and gold, pictures and decorations [12] Virginia Harned-Sothern attract attention from the door to every part of the household. The wide, winding stair allows the visitor to look upward and see the richly bannistered landings, rising tier upon tier over- head. It also permits a mild current of air to flow freely through the house, taking away the closeness and feeling of confinement which too often mark even the residences of the wealthy. In the daytime the hall, as well as the house, is bathed in sunlight ; but in the evening, at the touch of a button, the interior is flooded with electric light. Even in the illumination appears the touch of the artist. Around each incandes- cent bulb is a shade or lily of red, varying from pink to flame color, which modifies the light just enough to suggest the rose blush of the dawn or the fiery glories of the sunset. The comfortable stairs afford easy access to the first, or main floor, which is divided into a number of large apartments whereof the chief are the salon and the dining-room. The hall itself may be considered an apartment and is so treated in its decoration. It might be called the Hall of Engravings, so many are the works of art of that class which cover its surface. They are of every kind, and each a masterpiece in its own way. There are portraits and figure pieces, [13] Edward H. Sothern marines and landscapes, historical and theatrical scenes, bits of humor and touches of sentiment; in fact, the entire gamut of emotion, fancy, and memory is run upon this wall in black and white. The artistic treatment adds materially to the ensemble ; the dark wood, which, unrelieved, would weary the eye with its monotony, being touched here and there with glints of restful color. The salon, or drawing-room, gives the im- pression of ease and serenity. The chromatic scheme is in serpent-green and silver, with suffi- cient suggestion of other tints to add agreeable variety. The furniture is harlequin and em- bodies the best designs of the Louis Quatorze, Louis Quinze, and Louis Seize periods. There is nothing garish or jarring. It is a place where a woman wants to sit and chat, and a man likes to lounge and to consume a favorite Havana. In one corner is a grand piano of superb tone. A pile of well-thumbed music bears testimony to a favorite recreation of the inmates. To pass from the salon to the dining-room is like going from the French Court to a German baronial hall by way of the Netherlands. The in- termediate hall is delightfully Dutch. Solid Amsterdam furniture and substantial decorations [14] Virginia Harned-Sothern from The Hague suggest our Knickerbocker ancestors or the luckless Boers of South Africa. The feature of the dining-room is the collection of heads of game animals which are royally mounted, and glare through artificial eyes at the visitor. Over the mantel, which is a matchless piece of skilful carving, is the head of a wild boar, the largest, it is believed, in the United States. So deftly has the taxidermist finished it that it seems alive and devoured by bloodthirsty fury. Its gleaming tusks stand out as formi- dable and threatening as those of an infuriated tiger, and the spiny bristles and iron-like mus- cles of the throat tell an eloquent story of the animal's deadly strength and vigor. Across the room is the head of the animal which has been immortalized by Thompson-Seton — the Rocky Mountain Sheep. The large, telescopic, and peaceful eyes ; the vast, curling horns ; the broad forehead; the mild, inoffensive mouth; and the kindly, half-fearful and half-courageous expres- sion, betray the character of the king of the Rocky Mountain game world — a king whose days are numbered and whose name will soon be a memory. At other places are heads of the three giants of the deer family, the reindeer, the moose, and the caribou. Each is a poem in [15] Edward H. Sothern itself — the reindeer, clumsy, strong, half-domes- ticated, patient, and long-suffering; the moose, massive, melancholy, introspective, and brood- ing apparently over the decay of his race ; and the caribou, alert, electric, and the very embodi- ment of animal fear. Standing in the centre of the room, with the princely host, you feel the savage joy of the hunter and the milder, higher pleasure of the naturalist. The furniture is old German, in black oak and green tapestry, and here and there are the noble pewters of the seventeenth century, some graceful, some grotesque, some overflow- ing with aesthetic beauty, and others with grim, sardonic humor; but all indicative of royal appetites on the part of their dead owners. But the star of the drinking utensils is the ugliest object in the room. In spite of its ugliness, its historical associations render it priceless to the collector's heart. It is an awkward tankard of dark leather — leather of which Holmes might have written, " Found in the pit when the tanner died." It is a " Black Jack," such as was used by the soldiery of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, before tin cups and telescopic drinking vessels were invented. This alone would make it of interest; but the " Black Jack" in question [16] Virginia Harned-Sothern was one which belonged to the great Protector, Oliver Cromwell, and pressed his stern lips in nearly every battle, where his genius revolution- ized Great Britain and made England the Mis- tress of the Seas. Here, too, are steins ranging from the humble stone-ware of the poor student of the German University clubs up to the mag- nificent, decorated affairs of the Junkers, or young nobility. Most impressive of all is the silver chest, which contains pieces representing the lives and labors of both the owners, as well as of the immortal comedian, Edward Askew Sothern, the father of the master of the house- hold. With characteristic modesty the contents are kept invisible, except upon the occasions when they are brought out to decorate the family board. Each piece has a history attached. All represent affection and admiration, and each tells the story of some artistic triumph or histrionic feat. To the lover of the stage the most interesting part of the house is the floor above the drawing- room, whose chief apartment is the library. This is the favorite resort of master and mistress and of their intimate friends. To the student and the collector it is a veritable treasure-house. Here, framed and unframed, is a collection of 2 [l 7 ] Edward H. Sothern play-bills and programmes, said to be one of the finest in the world. Notable among them is the first printed programme of the appearance of David Garrick, c c as a young gentleman. ' ' Here, too, are the play-bills representing the first and last appearance of Edward Askew Sothern, which sum up his marvellous career. In the first he is practically a nobody, as in fact he was regarded by the people of that time. In the last he is the great star of English comedy, a man whose fame had passed beyond the English- speaking peoples and was known to every stage in Christendom. The last appearance was under the special patronage of the Prince and Princess of Wales, now the King and Queen of Great Britain. The two together show the meteoric career of one whose name will be ever dear to those who witnessed his matchless work upon the boards. A dado of straw matting throws the wall into light relief, and the great shelf which runs around the larger part of the room is laden down with curios and bric-a-brac from every land. Here there seems to have been a pleasant rivalry between master and mistress, each apparently having taken advantage of every opportunity to enrich the respective collections. Bronze and marble, wood and silver, china and porcelain, [18] Virginia Harned-Sothern Wedgwood and majolica, Dresden and Berlin ware, creations from Paris and Switzerland, art designs from Holland and Italy, are not scat- tered, but massed in delightful profusion. Up- on the walls are sketches, studies, and finished pictures by the master. Few of the thousands who have watched the great actor know that in his own right he is an artist of high ability. If nature had denied him a speaking voice, he would undoubtedly to-day have been one of our most successful painters. In the place of honor is his prize drawing of the Laocoon, which for strength of treatment and the depiction of terror was long ago recognized as one of the best efforts in that field of work. Here, too, are sketches, designs, caricatures, and letters relat- ing to the senior Sothern. Chief among these is a letter by Watts Phillips, in which the happy humor of the text is set off by a multitude of dainty, thumb-nail sketches on the margin. The books are those of a man and woman of general culture rather than of a specialist, as might be expected. The drama is nobly represented, but beyond the literature of the stage are poetry, fiction, history, travel, and invaluable books of reference. The boudoir of Mrs. Sothern is a symphony [19] Edward H. Sothern in red, white, and gold. It was blue in the beginning, but, according to its owner, the color was more or less contagious, and for that reason was changed to the warmer hue. Quaintly- carved furniture, choice laces, silk and woollen upholstery, easy chairs, and a thousand-and-one bits of color and beauty make her sanctum en- vied by every woman who crosses the threshold. This is the home where the Sotherns spend that part of their lives which is not dedicated to the footlights. The atmosphere is full of life and light, and sparkling with fun and good nature. Each has had an interesting career upon the boards, and each possesses a good memory, with a singularly happy power of expression. "My greatest dramatic feat," said Sothern, "or perhaps I should say my largest or most numerous feat, was when I took the part of two armies while playing in c Richard III. * I was what may be termed a small utility man with Barrett and McCullough, when we reached a town where it was impossible to obtain c supers. ' Upon me devolved the solemn necessity of first coming on as the ferocious army of the crooked-backed king, then retiring, changing my costume, and reappearing as the victorious legions of the noble Richmond. I cannot say that either of my [20] Virginia Harned-Sothern great masters displayed much interest in my work. Barrett was afraid the audience might object, and McCullough regarded it as a joke; but I was appreciated, to my regret, by the audience. Their comments that evening upon the flower of England's chivalry were not of a nature to fill my youthful soul with enthusiasm. ' ' Sothern is essentially a student. Perhaps no one has given the profession more critical and careful thought. " To me," he says, "the progress of the stage is from conventionalism to naturalism and from dramatic crudity to an artistic intellectual- ity. The critic who misses the robustious method of the past generation does not appar- ently realize that he is paying the highest kind of a compliment when he says that a star in presenting a part cannot be distinguished from a modern gentleman. This very intellectuality prompts an increased use of the poetic and romantic elements of life and thought in the drama. Amid the many changes in public favor and fashion, it may be noticed that the pendulum always swings back to the romantic and ideal." "What are our favorite amusements ? " said Mrs. Sothern. cc I fancy our chief joy is to [21] Edward H. Sothern learn Shakespeare by absorption. Our favorite relaxation is to run across the mill-pond and become citizens of the good old town of Strat- ford-on-Avon. Here we bask and vegetate. We forget all the rush and roar of New York life and try as far as possible to simulate the village hinds, who are almost the same there to- day as they were when Master William Shake- speare entertained Ben Jonson and the rest of that immortal crew. When you enter the old- fashioned inns and houses, sit upon the ancient furniture, push your feet among the rushes on the floor, and gape wonderingly at the thatch which makes your ceiling, you realize how greatly daily life has changed since the Eliza- bethan era, and how manners and speech must unconsciously change with them. To go into Ann Hatha way's cottage makes me feel like saying, c Prithee, come hither, fair wench, and bring me a goblet of posset.' Over there it is easy to understand why Shakespeare and, in fact, most of the poets of his time made so many allusions to flowers. One of my happiest memories consists of pictures of the rich colors and the strong scents of the gardens around Stratford." Among Mr. Sothern' s many famous roles, [22] Virginia Harned-Sothern those which have won the highest praise are Jack Hammerton, in "The Highest Bidder"; Claude Melnotte, in "The Lady of Lyons"; Francois Villon, in "If I Were King," and Hamlet. Of Mrs. Sothern, the great roles have been Drusilla, in "The Dancing Girl " ; Trilby, in du Maimer's drama; the titular part in "The Adventures of Lady Ursula," and Ophelia. [23] Richard Mansfield — Beatrice Cameron -Mansfield 'Their Lares and Penates > Si II Richard Mansfield — Beatrice Cameron -Mansfield Their Lares and Penates HIGH up on Riverside Drive, near One Hundred and Fourth Street, is the home of that arch-master of dramatic art, Richard Mansfield. The building is a hand- some, five storied, modern stone structure which overlooks the Hudson and the stately Palisades on the other side of the river. Not far away, to the north, the massive mausoleum of General Grant towers high in air; while in front of the residence, that narrow belt of emerald, River- side Park, slopes from the roadway down to the water's edge. No residential district more beautiful can be found upon the globe. It is a place for the artist, the poet, and the dreamer. The buildings in this neighborhood are in keep- ing with their environment. They are rich, imposing, but unostentatious. The home of the actor is no exception to the rule. The entrance to the house is through a roomy doorway which gives the impression of [27] Richard Mansfield pageants and impressive social functions. The wall to the left of the door is broken by a win- dow which the designer has covered with Vene- tian grillage, whose flowing lines suggest lace work forged by Titans out of steel. Crossing the threshold is like entering the great galleries of the Vatican. The house, in fact, is in small what the Pontifical palace is in large. It is the home of an artist, where all the work has been done by artists, and where there is no atmos- phere save that of art. There are homes richly furnished which impress one with a sense of wealth; there are others which are eloquent of intellectual activity; there are some which ex- hale law and statesmanship, and others which appeal purely to the religious elements of being. But in this home you perceive that it is a place where art is worshipped for art's sake. Every- thing appeals to high aesthetic taste, and nothing jars the inner sense or mars the harmony of the whole. The entrance room is a symphony in yellow. The walls are faced with silk plush almost old gold in hue, and the upholstery of the chairs is of the same material. So carefully is the color- ature carried out, that the woodwork is of golden- tinted oak. The chandeliers and ornaments are [28] Beatrice Cameron -Mansfield likewise of xanthic hue. The chromatic har- mony has been so elaborated that there is no conflict or excessive contrast in tints. It is not difficult, in the decorative art, to confine the colors of the various parts of an establishment to any one prismatic hue, but it is difficult to select those whose tinting is of the same gen- eral actinic quality. It is possible to ruin a harmony in green by juxtaposing a diaphanous uranium with an opaque bottle green. The same thing might be done, and too often is done, in xanthic harmony. But in the present case the artist to whom the matter was en- trusted has taken for his keynote a rather bright light and made every hue conform to it with perfect grace. Beside the pleasure afforded to the eye, this actinic harmony enables the owner to give effects not possible with strong chromatic contrasts or with excessive primary coloring. It makes the halls seem far longer than they really are, and when to its influence is joined the effect of mirrors, a suite of rooms becomes a seemingly interminable series of great apart- ments, each looking into another. The stairway from the ground to the main floor has broad and easy treads. Upon the wall is a quaint collection of old English sporting [29] Richard Mansfield prints before which the visitor is tempted to pause and enjoy their bright hues and virile drawing. Farther on up-stairs the sporting prints change into a collection of Hogarth's drawings, as full of humor to-day as when the British artist first satirized the follies and foibles of the eighteenth century. On the main floor are four notable apart- ments. The anteroom is a delightful study in the architecture and decoration of the period of Henri II. The mantelpiece is a noble old Flemish oak which, before coming to America, witnessed the lavish hospitality and gallant con- versation of a French chateau. Time has but increased its beauty. The carving is as fault- less as it was a hundred years ago, and even the smallest details of the chisel are as clear as if made yesterday ; but the years have brought out the grain and given it a tone so rich and rest- ful as to make it the central figure of the place. The mantel has a close rival in an ancient chest, exquisitely carved and inlaid, such as graced the mansions of nobility in the Middle Ages. The grace and symmetry of the ornamentation are French; but the superb workmanship, which seems to defy time, is apparently Flemish. On the walls of the anteroom are many paintings [30] Beatrice Cameron-Mansfield of more than ordinary interest. One is a por- trait of David Garrick by George Romney; another, a portrait of the same great actor by a pupil of Gainsborough. Two other canvases are a Francois Boucher, and a dainty pastel by Rosalba Camera. The tapestry-room occupies the front of the mansion and is finished in Italian Renaissance. Upon the walls are four ancient tapestries, upon which are depicted heroic tableaux. The colors have faded into soft, warm grays and browns; the glitter and richness have passed away, and the pictures which were once bright and daz- zling are now dim and shadowy. The bleach- ing hand of time has not injured, but increased, the beauty of the needlework. The poetic nuns or sisters, who in their cloisters wrought these wondrous textures of the needle, worked with a sweet sincerity. To them the heroes whom they depicted upon the fabric were real and alive. Criticism had not changed the heroes into shadowy myths. But with the years the dead idols of the past have become spectral figures, and the faint hues and fading lines of the tapestry are singularly truthful in representing the characters as they are. The fireplace is made of verde antico, and the rich [3i] Richard Mansfield mantel above it is in old oak, modelled after the types familiar to us through the palaces of the Doges and the nobles of Genoa and Milan. It is set with a painting of which the frame is in- laid with verde antico, so as to be in sympathy with the fireplace below. The mantel was brought from Italy, where it once adorned a palazzo. The furniture consists of antique Italian pieces, and the portieres are of Genoa velvet. Noticeable among the works of art are a carved cabinet, a Cinque-cento bust in colors, and a terra-cotta bust of rare beauty. The lighting of the room is from an ancient sanctuary lamp in repousse silver, which was taken from a sacristia in northern Italy during the wars of Napoleon. The period of Louis XV. marks the music- room, of which both walls and furniture are covered with antique red damask. A collection of ceramics, including Sevres ware, porcelain, and old English pottery, is one of the best in the country. On the wall are life-sized paintings of Mr. Mansfield as Shylock and Cyrano de Bergerac. Not far from the latter is a fine portrait of Madame Rudersdorf, exe- cuted when she was twenty years of age. The gem of the room is an original Bonington. [32] Beatrice Cameron-Mansfield But few works of this great artist are extant, two being in the Louvre. Brilliant art crea- tions are the piano covers, which are made of rose brocatel inlaid with silver. The illusion of the past is sustained by a secret door in the place, which, when opened, reveals a china closet stored with treasures. Among these are sets of Poloor, Derby, Charles X., Coalport, Worcester, Davenport, Sevres, Royal Derby, Lowestoft, and Spode. In the dining-room the artist has created an old English interior. The wainscoting is in brown oak, and the walls hung in dark green damask. The ceiling is gridironed with oak rafters, whose intervals are decorated with Tif- fany green and gold enamel. On a massive sideboard is a wonderful display of silver, so crowded as to make the surface seem solid metal. Upon the wall are old masters, includ- ing a Sir Thomas Lawrence, a Sir Peter Lely, and two Sir Godfrey Knellers. In front of the serving door is a mighty screen made of dark wood and embossed Spanish leather. On the third floor is Mrs. Mansfield's boudoir, which is beyond all doubt the finest specimen of art-workmanship in the dwelling-place. In the main it is a reproduction of the boudoir of 3 [33] Richard Mansfield Queen Marie Antoinette at Fontainebleau. The ceiling is in refined original carved designs, the hangings and portieres of silk brocatel, woven in Louis Seize designs. The furniture, man- tel, over-mantel, clock, and candelabra are of the same period. Most fascinating of all are collections of Louis Seize porcelains and of bijoux enclosed under glass. On the walls are five panels painted on white silk, representing Poetry, Dancing, Music, Drama, and Painting. The fourth floor is reserved to Mr. Mans- field. Here he has his study, which is a richly- appointed and comfortable library. The book- cases line the walls to the height of five feet, and above them are a continuous line of cher- ished pictures. The furniture is mahogany, and the color scheme green. This is the en- joyable environment wherein most of Mr. Mans- field's life off the stage is passed. He is hap- pily married, his wife being Beatrice Cameron, a brilliant star of the American stage. Of equal importance in his household economy is George Gibbs Mansfield, now in his third year, who is said to rule his parents with a rod of iron. He inherits from both father and mother a love of art, but from some ancestor a scien- tific enthusiasm and precocious curiosity which [34] Beatrice Cameron-Mansfield at times are fatal to aesthetics. His experi- ments upon tapestry, Sevres, and other works of art are not known to have increased the sum total of human knowledge, but have aroused the enthusiasm of his sire in ways which only parents can imagine. If character is a function of heredity and ex- perience, Mr. Mansfield should possess extraor- dinary talent or even high genius. Both his parents were musicians of the highest profes- sional position, and in his youth he travelled from European capital to capital, learning the language, customs, and etiquette of each civil- ized country. Endowed with a powerful mem- ory and a studious habit, he mastered many tongues, and can to-day act and think in Eng- lish, French, German, and Italian. Of the first three his mastery is so complete that it is impossible to say which language is the one of his real self. Upon this question even he is at sea. The old test of what language a man dreams in does not apply to him, for his dreams are in each or all of the trio, as the case may be. His career upon the stage has been from the lowest to the highest round, and has con- tained so many triumphs as to make it notable. He is just a little over forty years of age. [35] Richard Mansfield His first histrionic performance was as a boy at an English school, where he played Shy- lock. He indulged in journalism, and when about twenty began his professional career. In 1882 he made his debut in New York. In January, 1883, he won a triumph in u A Par- isian Romance," where, out of the part of Baron Chevrial, which had been dismissed by older actors as worthless, he made a character so intense and powerful as to startle the blase theatre-goers of New York. In one night he leaped from obscurity to fame, and in a week was probably the most talked-about actor in the Empire City. His next success was in " French Flats" and " La Vie Parisienne." Then came li Prince Karl," in 1886; the same season saw two clever parts, in u Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde " and M Monsieur." In 1889 he made his bow to a London audi- ence. Here he presented his American suc- cesses, which pleased his British audiences, but did not arouse any great enthusiasm. He changed his repertoire, and produced u Richard III." in a manner that carried the English cap- ital by storm. Since that time he has given Beau Brummel, Don Juan, Nero, Shylock, Cyrano de Bergerac, and Monsieur Beaucaire. [36] Beatrice Cameron-Mansfield These are but a few of the many roles he has presented in the past twenty years, and are a striking commentary upon his versatility and power. This versatility on the stage has its counterpart in his character. Besides being an actor and singer, he is a painter, poet, author, composer, and critic. It is to these varied tal- ents that he owes much of his success in the costuming, musical illustration, and stage-set- ting of the dramas which he has presented. With characteristic modesty he seldom alludes to these gifts. On one occasion a lady asked him : u I hear, Mr. Mansfield, you are a painter, and that for one year you lived on your paint- ings ? " u You have been misinformed, madam," was the quick reply. u I lived in spite of them." A friend one day said: i i I understand that you have just written a new and popular song." u Please don't tell anybody," exclaimed Mansfield, ( c until I have doubled my life in- surance." He is a pleasant man to meet. On Sunday evenings he holds open house to his many [37] Richard Mansfield friends, and his home is crowded with the brightest wits and clearest intellects in the metropolis. In conversation he displays a rare combina- tion of ripe learning, delicate fancy, and illu- minating humor. u My profession," he said, u is more than a pastime, although, after all, the highest type of a pastime is that which benefits the individual who employs it. The true function of the stage is partly educational and partly artistic. No education is complete which neglects the study of beauty, and no art is finished which omits the intellectual elements. The so-called c raising ' of the stage depends chiefly upon these elements, and its growth has been almost entirely along these lines. The thoughtful actor and the shrewd manager take advantage of every invention and discovery to increase the attractiveness and realistic beauty of a dramatic representation, and, on the other hand, they endeavor to elevate histrionic standards just as high as public taste will permit. It is a mis- take to suppose that the power of the people behind the footlights is larger than the ability of those in front of the footlights to be in touch with them. I have absolute confidence in art [38] Beatrice Cameron-Mansfield and in the public. Fashions come and go, but beyond these there is a great intelligence which always appreciates the best work, and in the course of time rewards it proportionately. A high devotion to the profession is bound event- ually to be appreciated and honored. Careless genius may prosper for a day, but it is steady and untiring talent which moulds the stage and evolves the dramatic ideals of the race. ' ' [39] Marie Bates Her Home in East Thirty-First Street, New York Ill Marie Bates Her Home in East Thirty-First Street, New York THE backwoods moralist who, from the recesses of his imagination, paints weird pictures of the intense excite- ment of an actor's life, ought to visit the me- tropolis and call upon one of the leading mem- bers of the profession. He would turn down from Fifth Avenue at Thirty-first Street, and, walking along that thoroughfare, would find himself in one of the quietest residential neigh- borhoods in the world; staid, old-fashioned houses; calm, dignified people; a well-kept and orderly street. On every hand the signs of neatness and regard for the rights of others might cause him to believe that he was in a community inhabited by college professors, phy- sicians, and divines. There are many such dis- tricts in New York, and they suggest the sleepy cities of the Old World rather than the sleep- less metropolis of which they are parts. A typical house in this street is the residence [43] Eminent Actors in Their Homes of Marie Bates, who for thirty years has been prominent upon the American stage. The home represents both her tastes and her growth. It is a roomy and attractive dwelling-place, built along the lines that were popular two gen- erations ago. Everything is simple, clear, and truthful. There is no attempt at garish dis- play and no exhibition of ostentatious luxury. A single glance shows that the occupant is a person of a warm, intelligent, thoughtful, affec- tionate, and active nature, who makes the best of life, both for herself and for others. An in- describable something indicates that the presiding genius of the home is a woman and not a man. Many are the activities which are carried on by the head of the household. Here is a sew- ing-room which would delight any disciple of modern needlecraft. In this atelier Miss Bates spends some time every day. She is an adept at embroidery, crocheting, drawn-work, and other decorative designs on filament and tissue. The working chairs are so arranged that the light falls over her shoulder, and open-mesh lace curtains and light tints in the color scheme of the room insure ease to the worker. " It may be a sign that I am old-fashioned," said Miss Bates, u but I must plead guilty to [44] Marie Bates a constitutional love for sewing and doing things with the needle. It has been so as far as I can recall. I can, of course, use the sewing-ma- chine and all the ingenious attachments which our fellow-countrymen have invented, but that seems to me like toil, with no element of enjoy- ment. On the other hand, a needle, thimble, and thread afford delight, without any seeming expenditure of labor. Fine needlework is not at all unusual upon the stage. It may not be as common to-day as it was thirty years ago, when I frequently saw actresses knitting or crocheting while behind the scenes waiting for the cue. I do not recall any company but in which two or more of the members utilized spare moments in making objects of beauty with the needle. At the present time I think there is less of what I may call necessary sewing, but just as much, if not more, fancy and ornamen- tal work. In one respect there has been a great change. In my youth the knitting of yarn and worsted was universal. Every good wife and mother supplied both husband and children with home-made winter hosiery. It was very soft and warm, and I believe it wore like iron; but the labor involved was very large. Of late years, I do not remember any actress engaged [45] Eminent Actors in Their Homes upon this particular task. It would be folly to do it, anyhow, because modern machinery does even better work at a lower price than what the old-fashioned yarn now costs the knitter." In the sewing-room are several articles of furniture, such as sewing-chairs and work-tables, belonging to the early part of the last century. Their clear-cut lines and strong surfaces speak well for the joiners and cabinet-makers of long ago. Miss Bates has quite a hobby for old time furniture, nearly all of the equipment of her residence representing years of hard work locat- ing and securing the various pieces. Many of them are heirlooms which have come down at least three generations. She is of New Eng- land origin, and some of her household treasures heard the guns of Bunker Hill, and a few bits of china may have touched the lips of Governor Winthrop. The New England ancestry ap- pears in the expression of the rooms. There is little or no use of foreign ideas and products. The equipment is essentially American, and in the selection of articles an attempt has been made to illustrate the historical development of the nation from the first settlements to the pres- ent time. It may be that there is a predomi- nance of colonial and revolutionary elements, [46] Marie Bates but, if so, these express a pardonable pride on the part of the owner. The chief exception to this rule is in regard to pictures and books. Miss Bates denies that these form an exception. " Art and literature," she said, u have no nationality. John Milton belonged just as much to New England as to Old England; in fact, I do not know but what, in his Puritanism, he was not more of a Massachusetts settler than an English gentleman. When I go abroad I like to obtain pictures and books and other things that will serve as souvenirs of happy days of travel, and also as reminders in some way of the masters of both dramatic and general litera- ture. Following this feeling, when I have been in England I have picked up souvenirs of Shakespeare, Ben Jonson, Raleigh and Love- lace, Byron and Scott, Dickens and Thackeray, Dr. Johnson and Coleridge. If I had had the time I should have bought views and other re- membrances of many a poet, novelist, and play- wright. This, however, I hope to do in the years to come. Outside of the mere pleasure, there is a certain professional interest in study- ing the homes of the dead authors. These often throw light upon scenes and characters in plays that might otherwise be a stumbling-block [47] Eminent Actors in Their Homes to the performer. No one can go to Scotland without getting a better notion of Macbeth than is possible to those who live in a flat country; while a visit to the Tower, Westminster Abbey, and other parts of Old London enable one to form quite a definite conception of the ladies and gentlemen of whom Sheridan and Gold- smith wrote so quaintly." These memorials form a very pleasant ele- ment in the furnishing of the home. They are in nearly every room, and suggest an agreeable or thrilling historical fact. Oddest among them are the house decorations of the olden time. In frames of wood or porcelain are wax flowers, some made in the conventional way that was employed in the convent schools, and others showing the bold lines and skilfully wrought surfaces where an unknown genius broke away from the regulation patterns of the time. Un- der glass are hair flowers which were so popular in the last century. In those days the happy lover secured not a little tuft of hair, nor even a single lock from his Dulcinea del Toboso, but an entire strand. This he carried to a hair- worker, who transformed it into an ornate true- lover's knot, a rose, a bunch of forget-me-nots, or any other blossom appropriate to the occa- [48] Marie Bates sion, according to the solemn pages of u Ye Booke of Ye Language of Flowers." The passing of the custom, it may be, has been brought about for the reason that the modern belle has not as much hair to spare as had her grandmother, or that the latter was more will- ing to sacrifice her crowning glory in order to evidence the depth of her affection. Of the same school, but different and dismal in char- acter, were the funeral pictures woven in hair. This is a custom which is happily extinct or nearly so. Nearly all the hair of those who passed away was shorn, and woven or sewed into a picture of a tomb with a willow or cypress tree hanging over it. Interesting, too, are the hostess's pieces of old-time embroidery. The workmanship is excellent, but lacks the variety of the modern day, where every school of needlecraft teaches a course which combines the best features of all the needlework of Europe. M How did I get into the relic and general antiquity business ? " said the mistress of the house. u I really cannot tell you, unless I in- herited it. It began in my childhood, on ac- count of my love for my grandmother, who was herself a devotee of antiquity. From her have come many of my treasures; from other rela- 4 [49] Eminent Actors in Their Homes tives and friends, a second portion; while the remainder are the result of my own inquiries and shopping both here and abroad. Sometimes I fancy that actors have a deeper love for this antiquarian line of thought than the members of any other calling. Nearly all my friends in the profession have collections like myself, while a few have enough to stock small mu- seums. I presume that we appreciate the sym- bolism which runs through daily existence. On the stage, life is more than make believe, it is symbolical ; and the habits of thought started behind the footlights are very apt to remain in one's own boudoir and drawing-room." The glory of Miss Bates's home is her bird- room. This is a combination of sitting-room and aviary. The chief tenants are the birds, which are about one-half nightingales and the other half canaries. Next to them in impor- tance is Miss Bates, and third are all other human beings. The birds seem to understand their position, and behave with an arrogance that is simply delicious. The cages are large and handsome, but the cage-doors are always open. Near the windows are potted shrubs and flowers, and among these several which are popular with the bird-world. There is fresh [5o] Marie Bates water where the little creatures can drink when they so desire, and almost always some little delicacy which appeals to a songster's palate. Kind treatment has worked wonders with her feathered friends. They seem to regard their owner as an elder sister. They come at her call, and very often without her call. When they are sick, they want her to nurse them; when they are in good spirits, they want her to play. When they are ill-natured, they want her as an object of their wrath and scolding; and when affectionate, they endeavor to express their love by the oddest little sounds and gest- ures imaginable. Miss Bates's career began when a child, at Ford's Theatre, Baltimore, in the sixties. Early in the seventies she became a member of the famous F. B. Conway Stock Company of Brooklyn, New York. Here she gained her laurels and was recognized as a standard artist. Since that time she has belonged to the best companies of the country, and has played in every leading city of the land. Her last four prominent parts have been Mrs. Murphy, in the " Chimmie Fadden " play; Aunt Rosa^ in u Zaza"; Abigail Prime, in "The County Fair," and Mrs. Eagan, in " The Auctioneer." [5i] Elsie de Wolfe At Her Own Hearth IV Elsie de Wolfe At Her Own Hearth THE Union Square district is one of the busiest in New York. Through it runs Broadway, the aorta of the me- tropolis, while Fourteenth Street may be regarded as its femoral artery. Vast magazines, huge factories, and crowded office buildings are elo- quent of the city's commercial prosperity. Near the square is a little, old-fashioned street which seems to have been avoided by the tides of travel and traffic. It is a pleasant thoroughfare — Irving Place — and its very name brings up sug- gestions of the literature and habits of Knicker- bocker days. It was named from Washington Irving, who at one time resided on the corner of Seventeenth Street. There is a theatrical flavor to the atmosphere, the Academy of Music being at the head of the street, and on the other side the Irving Place Theatre, where the masterpieces of the German muse have been presented during the past dec- ade. No neighborhood is more appropriate for [55] Eminent Actors in "Their Homes the home of a famous actress. In the very house where Diedrich Knickerbocker once lived now reside the star Elsie de Wolfe and her friend Miss Elizabeth Marbury, the distin- guished manager and writer. The high build- ings in that part of the city make their home seem small by contrast, yet it is a roomy and happy specimen of old-time architecture. Three stories in height, strongly built and soundly timbered, thick-walled and well-joined, it is as new and substantial as the last creation of the builder in the same neighborhood. The ex- terior is very plain and unassuming, as were nearly all the buildings put up in New York when it was a struggling part, and not the rival of London for the commercial supremacy of the globe. Its old-time aspect gives it a cer- tain home-like look, suggesting pleasant people, gracious manners, open hospitality, and the wis- dom and fine breeding of the dead generations. Within there is no echo of the outside world, unless it be of the two big playhouses down the street. The impression produced by the in- terior is essentially foreign and French. It re- minds one in a vague way of the Palace Le Petit Trianon, not that there is any imitation of the features or decoration of this famous [56] Elsie de Wolfe establishment, but that the beauty, art, and en- semble of the house are in exactly the same key. If the fair owner of the palace had set- tled in New York, her home would have been precisely like that of the Misses de Wolfe and Marbury. The entrance hall is rich with tapestry and subdued mural decorations. It opens into a noble salon, which in turn communicates with the dining-room. The former apartment is treated so as to give the feeling of a court. The furniture is simple, elegant, and not crowded. Upon the floor are magnificent East- ern rugs, and half-way down the room exquisite marble pedestals, supporting jardinieres of grow- ing ferns and palms, impart the same sense of satisfaction as does a well-ordered conservatory or a finely-kept garden. On the wall over the mantel is a superb, life-sized painting of a beau- tiful woman by Nattier. Elsewhere are other works of art, paintings, and gems of the metal- smith, ceramist, sculptor, and designer. Doubt- less the most noticeable feature of the draw- ing-room is the ample bay window. This is furnished — in fact, almost filled — with flowers, ferns, vines, and mosses, and in the centre a small fountain makes music with falling water, [57] Eminent Actors in Their Homes which runs into a fish pool, where two and four tailed goldfishes swim indolently or rest motionless, as if lost in studying the problem of eternity. On either side of the recess formed by the bay window are interesting collections. On one side is a series of miniatures of rare beauty and historic value. They are painted on wood, ivory, and porcelain, and represent many characters notable in fact or fiction. On the other side is an escritoire carved, inlaid, and decorated in the highest style of the art of Louis Seize. Over the escritoire is a veritable mu- seum of figurines. It may be doubted if its equal can be found in Gotham. They range in height from half an inch to four and five inches, and are modelled or carved in clay, plaster, cloth, marble, alabaster, wood, ivory, metal, and even precious jade. They come from every country and represent every age in the history of art. Some are so old as to sug- gest fossils, and others are bright and new enough to have come from the designer's studio the day before. The major part seems to have come from France, Italy, and Switzerland, these countries leading the rest of Europe in this branch of glyptic design. u I have always had a great love for these [58] Elsie de Wolfe little figurines," said Miss de Wolfe; " they appeal to the poetic as well as to the aesthetic sense. The sculptor who produces a great marble or bronze wins the praise of the world ; but the artist who turns out these little figures does so from the mere love of his work, and without any hope of fame, and oftentimes of equivalent reward. We keep on record the names of every sculptor, painter, and architect ; but who ever heard the name of a figurine- maker ? Yet many of these creations possess an intrinsic beauty that may be compared with that of larger and more ambitious pieces. Busts and statues are obtained in every big city. In the towns and villages they are unknown to trade. The figurines are to be picked up in many a mountain village and seashore hamlet. They represent the work of unknown makers, who have been prevented, it may be by fate or by misfortune, from ever extending their talents and playing parts in the world of art. Some of my figures will bear the scrutiny of the mag- nifying glass, and tell in no uncertain tone that their making was a labor of love." The period of Marie Antoinette is recalled vividly by two admirable busts of that unfor- tunate queen, as well as by a spinet and a [59] Eminent Actors in "Their Homes lyre which possibly were touched by her fair fingers. The dining-room is a model of simplicity. The chromatic effect is gold and white, and the decorations are restful in tone. Nothing in the room tends to distract the attention of the guest from the dinner and the diners. The illumina- tion is by means of old-fashioned candelabra, and two Roman Corinthian columns with brown shafts and white capitals and pedestals form a happy framework to the window. On the second floor the hall is an enjoyable study. At one side is a piece of ancient tapes- try, and near the end a great mirror doubles the apparent length of the corridor. Not far from the head of the stairs is a collection altogether unique for a busy, intellectual woman. This is a lot of queer little dolls representing nearly every known European and American type. u It is all very well," said the hostess, M to laugh at this hobby, but that is because you do not appreciate a doll at its full value. There are dolls and dolls. Properly understood, a doll may be a lesson in ethnology, history, and the development of costumes. At least that's what my dolls are. Just as artists make collections of photographs and even models of famous build- [60] Elsie de Wolfe ings, so I have gathered a little army of dolls to represent racial types, costumes, uniforms, and the history of hair-dressing, boots and shoes, and feminine decoration. It saves lots of time. It is not necessary to go to a library and get down a clumsy book with pictures of the cloth- ing worn in this court and that, in one century or another. Often the pictures are wrong, and always it is impossible to make your garment from the printed portrait. But when you have a doll dressed up as was a lady-in-waiting at the Court of Louis the Magnificent, or the merry duchess in the day of King Charles, you know just what to do to dress your part in a play call- ing for a reproduction of either period. My dolls are really a library and an art gallery com- bined." On this floor are the boudoirs of the two owners, each a complete artistic whole in itself. Miss Marbury's room may be called a pastel in blue and white. The tone is that of religious art. A superb Crucifixion ornaments the wall, and in one corner is a beautifully carved prie- dieu. There are canopies over the bed, closets, and windows. An Eastern carpet and French furniture, along with pictures and bric-a-brac, make the place exceedingly attractive. [61] Eminent Actors in Their Homes Miss de Wolfe's boudoir is a creation in rose. Everything about the apartment is warm, radiant, and poetic. The bedstead is a marvel- lous piece of carving, more like the divans of China than those of our own civilization. It was obtained from a French chateau, and looks massive enough to be turned upon its side and employed as a barricade in the event of a riot or revolution. On either side of the mantel are bookcases filled with choice literature, and on the wall are oil paintings whose subjects are in light and pleasant key. On the third floor is the library, which might be called the museum. The bookcases cover nearly all the wall, and the volumes are in most instances specially bound. A notable feature is a series of works upon the Courts of France and England, in both French and English. Upon this field of literature Miss de Wolfe has spent many years, and has brought together nearly every memoir, history, and volume of letters published upon the subject. M In making my library," she said, u I have allowed my literary taste to be influenced by associations of travel and professional require- ments. Probably two-thirds of the parts which I have studied and the plays in which I have [62] Elsie de Wolfe appeared have been connected with French and English history. To obtain a clear conception, not so much of the characters, costumes, or physical peculiarities, but rather of the social relations and mental and moral tone of each epoch, I have tried to bring together the mate- rials which would supply the necessary facts. It is a mistake to suppose that there is not the same development in social relations as in all the other elements of civilization. Each period has its own code of manners, morals, and social intercourse. In the time of Elizabeth there were a frankness of speech and a sincerity of action entirely inadmissible in a modern salon. So even in the golden age of Louis the Mag- nificent there was a certain freedom of conver- sation and a use of humor which would not be allowed to-day by ladies and gentlemen. All of these things are interconnected, so that dif- ferences in etiquette would produce minute but perceptible differences in carriage, pose, and action. These points would not, perhaps, be noticed by a general audience, but they do ap- peal to all students and thoughtful people, and it is from these that the valuation of any actor is, in the long run, established." Oddest of all among her treasures in the [63] Eminent Actors in Their Homes library is Miss de Wolfe's cabinet of foot-wear, in which there is a multitude of boots and shoes. Besides the articles themselves are many photo- graphs of others which she has been unable to obtain. Nearly every community has evolved a special covering for the feet, and oftentimes has gone to such lengths that the mere sight of the shoe tells the land or period to which it belongs. In Japan a woman wears a wooden sole, which is held to the foot by a flat-headed nail, fitting in between the big and second toe. In China a thick wooden sole faced with kid and shod with pigskin is characteristic of that land. The sandals of Greece and Rome are peculiar to those classic countries. The long shoe, whose toe turned up and was prolonged into a whipcord fastened to the belt, marked a period of luxury in the European Middle Ages. The high-heeled bottine of France, the sabot of the French peasantry, the muslin half-sandal of the West Indies, the pointed Morocco slip- per of the Moslems, the flat-soled shoe with the high heel-piece of the Orient, the dancing-san- dal of India, the jack-boot of Oliver Cromwell are each and all capital illustrations of both races and history. Miss de Wolfe's dramatic career began as an [64] Elsie de Wolfe amateur, making her debut in 1885 at the Cri- terion Theatre in London. She displayed so much natural talent that in one season she be- came the first of the amateur players of the metropolis. She entered the profession in 1891, after having studied carefully in both New York and France. Since then her chief roles have been Fabienne Lecoulteur, in ( c Thermidor ' ' ; Rose Reade, in u Sister Mary"; Lady Kate Fennel, in <( The Bauble Shop"; Lady Charley Wishanger, in ' ( The Masqueraders ' ' ; Mrs. Wanklyn, in cl John A'Dreams"; Mrs. Dud- ley Chumleigh, in " Marriage " ; Helene, in " Catherine," and Mrs. Croyden, in " The Way of the World." [65] Minnie Maddern Fiske At Home Mrs, Fiske at Home. V Minnie Maddern Fiske At Home A WOMAN with Titian-red hair and a silken complexion; with eyes which I* change color as she talks ; with grace- ful, well-knit, and well-rounded figure, indica- tive of great vitality and endurance, sits in a rocking-chair in an artistic drawing-room. As she speaks it is evident that her body is but the mouthpiece of her mind. Each fibre is alive and quivering. The muscles of the face move as if to accompany every emotion and mood of her being. Her white hands are here, there, and everywhere. Her arms and waist are never at rest. Even her well chausseed feet appear at times to accentuate or punctuate her conver- sation. She carries you along by the strength and rush of her emotional and aesthetic nature. You realize that you are talking to the artist who is in touch not only with her profession, but also with current events and with everything of interest that pertains to the world. Her very intensity attracts and fascinates. The dullest [69] Eminent Actors in Their Homes fact, when viewed through her eyes, contains some theretofore unseen truth. The most in- significant personality, viewed by her imagina- tion, assumes strange beauty and impressiveness. This is Mrs. Minnie Maddern Fiske, who for the past fifteen years has been a forceful figure in the annals of the American stage. The room in which she is sitting reflects in a vague way her individuality. The furniture is rich, handsome, and comfortable. The colors of the apartment are gold, brown, and cream- white, which in the dull red light of the vast fireplace suggest her flowing hair and white skin. A grand piano, guitar, and well-thumbed pieces of music indicate her love for the art of Beethoven, and any number of finely-bound books, works of the great authors, show her ap- preciation of the masters of literature. This apartment on Park Avenue, New York City, is merely one of her homes, of which she has three. She refers to it as her u stopping-place " when in town, while the places she regards as homes are far away from the turmoil of the metropolis. u City life," she says, u is a disagreeable necessity, of which I wish to make as little as possible. A person's home is where her heart [7o] Minnie Maddern Fiske is, and mine is with the trees and running streams." Her nature is too active and aesthetic to be satisfied with a single domicile. She craves both the sight of the salt sea and the fragrant atmosphere of the pine woods. The craving is gratified by one summer home upon the Fiske estate at Mamaroneck-on-the-Sound, and an- other at Lake Pleasant, near Northville, in the Adirondacks. The former is Glen Cottage, an old-fashioned villa in Westchester County. The name is singularly appropriate. The structure is a cottage in fact, as well as in title. It is not one of the cottages which are marble pal- aces, like those at Newport, nor vast barns, like those at Long Branch. A rambling shape, broad verandas, and capacious halls and rooms present all the charm which belongs to the English home from which its American coun- terpart is borrowed. A brawling brook runs through the grounds not far from the house, and a large part of the estate, as well as the cottage, is embowered with maples, elms, and beeches. The Glen bears all the marks of the action of fierce watery cataclysms in long-gone years. The jagged rocks and bowlders, water- worn pebbles and gravel-banks, sharply cut hills, [7i] Eminent Actors in Their Homes and irregular contours tell an eloquent tale of the time when Westchester County was ground beneath the iron hoofs of a vast glacier. Mrs. Fiske is passionately fond of trees and flowers, and, while resting here, devotes a great deal of her leisure time to arboriculture and hor- ticulture. She disclaims the dignity of being a scientific florist, and laughingly pleads guilty to a love of the old-fashioned flowers and decora- tive vegetable growths which are so pleasing an adjunct to the landscape, whether American or English. She lives as much as possible in the open, where she studies, reads, and thinks out the parts which she is to present each coming season. u To one who loves nature," she says, u there is inspiration when studying among the trees, and mental stimulation, when fatigued, be- neath shadowy boughs. I find that my thoughts flow more rapidly, and my power to form artis- tic conceptions greatly increase, when I am sur- rounded by old friends in the form of trees, and new ones in the shape of flowers.' ' In this little Eden she spends a part of her vacation in company with her husband, Harri- son Grey Fiske, the author and editor. When her yearning for salt air is thoroughly gratified, [72] Minnie Maddern Fiske she changes her quarters from Glen Cottage to her forest home in the Adirondacks. Here, as far as possible, she leads the life of an oread. Her home is a rough-hewn timber structure, on whose outside the bark still remains. Around her are the great forests and the glorious soli- tudes of the north woods, and from the win- dows can be seen the noble outline of Blue Mountain. The primeval groves extend in every direction. The trees are chiefly balsams — pines, firs, hemlocks, cedars, and spruces — and the rich perfume of their leaves and branches saturates the atmosphere. Not far from the house is a lake, where in fair weather the actress can be seen every day pulling a strong oar. There is nothing of the hunter or fisher in her organization. She dislikes the idea of destroy- ing life, and, so far as she is concerned, the trout can come to her boat, or the partridge perch upon her chair, without fear of molestation. Here in the very heart of the wilderness she has a flower garden. A cosey veranda affords shelter from the rain in wet weather, and from the sun on warm afternoons. Within the lodge everything is comfort and rest. The furnish- ing is in keeping with the place, but is never- theless full of the conveniences of civilized life. [73] Eminent Actors in Their Homes Here, again, works of art, curios and oddities, books and magazines, betray the taste of the mistress, and show that while we may change our skies we do not change ourselves. In clear weather she is in the woods from dawn until eve. Her mercurial temperament fits her to be a companion of the squirrels and other tire- less little folk of the forest. The solitude has no terrors for her, and trees and mosses, brooks and birds' nests, birds and four-footed creatures are as familiar to her as are the books and pic- tures in Glen Cottage or in her apartments in the distant city. u If I had my way," she says, u this would be my permanent abiding place. There is a strange flavor to the air which to me means health, strength, and happiness. It tastes dif- ferent from the air of cities and towns. It is fuller of ozone and of the fragrance with which nature seems to tempt the weary to come away from brick walls and stone pavements." It is difficult to reconcile the intellectual and artistic tone of her character with her deep love of the forest and mountains. This seeming in- congruity has marked enough characters to make it familiar to the student of literature. It domi- nated Thoreau, Audubon, Cope, and other fa- [74] Minnie Maddern Fiske mous intellects; but it is a rare combination in men, and still rarer in women. No matter where her home, Mrs. Fiske is both social and hospitable. When in the city her parlors are thronged with friends; when in the country she is nearly always the recipient of visits from those who know and admire her. In this respect she fulfils the traditions of her pro- fession. From the earliest times actors have been famous for their social kindliness and charm. Though a young woman in years, Mrs. Fiske has had a long and eventful career upon the stage; in fact, the stage may be said to be, and to have been, her real home. She made her first appearance at the age of three years, when she took part in a Shakespearian drama. She played speaking parts in her girlhood, and so marked was her talent that at sixteen she was a star in her own right. Her ability and versatility were recognized from the very first, so that her ser- vices have always been in demand. Probably no actress of her age has played with so many of the great histrions of this country and Eng- land. It may be questioned if she has not sup- ported nearly every star of distinction who has appeared upon the American boards in the two decades just past. [75] Eminent Actors in 'Their Homes Her versatility is notable. She is a com- petent comedian, and a powerful tragedian. If Shakespearian drama were in vogue, she would probably have no equal on the boards to-day in the leading female roles. The list of her suc- cesses throws a good light upon her histrionic talent. These have been Nora, in Ibsen's u Doll's House " ; Becky Sharp, in Thackeray's u Vanity Fair " ; Tess, in Thomas Hardy's cre- ation ; Marie Deloche, in ( c The Queen of Liars " ; li La Femme du Claude," and Magda. These express the gamut of the emotions, with a tendency, it may be, toward morbidity in Tess, cynicism in Becky Sharp, and pessimism in Nora. li One of my favorite parts," she says, " is that of Becky. I feel a sort of proprietary in- terest in the lady. I studied it critically in Thackeray's immortal novel long before it was dramatized. The first time I read the book I was impressed by its dramatic possibilities, and unconsciously I sketched out to myself what I might call an unwritten drama. When it was dramatized I was so familiar with all the characters and the plot that it seemed as if I had been playing it all my life. Yet even in the presentation of Becky I had an experience the first night that I have had with almost every [76] Minnie Maddern Fiske play upon its initial performance. I do not know quite how to describe it. It is not stage fright, but a dull, mental lethargy, which seems to be the accompaniment of an over-intense mental excitement. My words and my action go smoothly, but there is a strangely benumbed sen- sation in my head, so that I hardly know which is the first and which the fifth act. I was dis- cussing the matter not long ago with Sir Henry Irving, Richard Mansfield, and Ellen Terry, and to my surprise each told me of having had similar experiences, only in their cases it was not the first night, but any night except the first; that the feeling came upon them like a spell, lasted an indefinite time, and then went away. With me it is connected with the first performance. The fear of the feeling comes upon me the moment I begin studying the part at home. It increases gradually but steadily, and culminates with the performance. Almost every time I vow that hereafter I will make the first performance a social and friendly affair, and for my audience have only old friends and neigh- bors. Although I have this dread of the first performance of a new play, it is purely subject- ive, and does not seem to externalize itself. So far as I know, it has never shown itself in [77] Eminent Actors in Their Homes speech or action, and has, mayhap, never been noticed by the public. These first nights have one singular advantage; they make my home a hundred-fold more delightful to me than ever before. When I get back to my apartments after the play is over, I feel like a tired and frightened bird that has at last in safety alighted in its own nest." [78] Annie O'Neill At Home and Abroad Annie O * Neill and her Son, VI Annie " Neil I At Home and Abroad THE American stage has drawn its stars from every land, and to the student of out-of-the-way facts is interesting from its singular cosmopolitanism. If Mans- field represents the genius of Germany; Mod- jeska, Poland; May Robson, Australia; Janau- schek, Austria; Annie Yeamans, the Isle of Man; and Annie Ward Tiffany, Ireland; Scot- land can point with satisfaction to its fair daughter Annie O'Neill as its representative in the American theatre. A bright-eyed, fine-featured, willowy and graceful creature, she might pose as an ideal daughter of the Highlands. Travel, education, and culture have failed to free her from the per- fume of the heather. While her clear enuncia- tion is not any more indicative of Scotch than of Irish origin — these two lands having appar- ently a greater regard for the beauty of vowels and consonants than either England or the United States — every now and then a slight 6 [81] Eminent Actors in Their Homes Caledonian accent, or some such word as ( c bon- nie," "wee," "bracken," and " brockle " betrays the Land o' Groats. She went upon the stage when a mere girl, and made her debut in New York with Richard Mansfield's company in the drama of u Prince Karl." Here, although her part was a small one, she did so well as to elicit universal praise. She made an exceedingly attractive figure behind the footlights, while her elocution and stage business were up to the standards which have marked the Mansfield productions from the start. In one season she became a metropoli- tan favorite, and from that time on has held a unique position upon the stage. It is not as a tragedian, nor as a society actress, nor exactly as a comedian that she is to be regarded. Her forte lies in the presentation of char- acters marked by youth, beauty, innocence, sweetness, and refinement. In the portrayal of such parts she certainly has few, if any, superiors. After a brief professional life she married Henry C. Miner, the millionaire manager, and retired to private life. The union was very happy, but short-lived. During her married career she presided over the Miner household, [82] Annie O'Neill which was famous for its hospitality. Their city home was on Riverside Drive, overlooking the Hudson, and their country seat at Red Bank, New Jersey. They had what Miss O'Neill calls two annexes, a place in south- ern California, on the shore of the Pacific, and a mansion in southern Ireland. During this period, which lasted five years, the four homes were Meccas to hundreds of bright people. Both husband and wife were popular, and en- joyed the friendship of the classes which are connected with the footlights. Managers, ac- tors, playwrights, poets, singers, composers, musicians, and painters constituted the bulk of their friends and acquaintances. These are the elements that make up the true Bohemia of modern life. They live largely, if not chiefly, in the imagination and intellect, and find their joys in the higher pleasures of the brain. The death of Mr. Miner cut short this happy epoch, and so changed the current of her life that from old habits, as well, perhaps, as from her tem- perament, Mrs. Miner went back to the stage in the same city where she had scored her suc- cesses before going to the altar as a bride. She made her return in the play of ' ( Sweet and Twenty," in which she took the role of Joan, [83] Eminent Actors in Their Homes and where she received a welcome which must have filled her with delight. Her new home-life is naturally smaller and more self-centred than her old. Her family consists of herself and a little boy, Jack, or M Judge Jack," as he calls himself. Her pres- ent city home is on West Seventy-first Street, while in the summer she still uses the Miner House at Red Bank, on the Shrewsbury River. The two places differ considerably in the im- pression they make upon the visitor. The town residence marks the woman and the mother; the country seat, the woman, wife, and late husband. The former is a two-story and base- ment dwelling, small, but exquisitely appointed. From entrance to roof it displays fine taste, broad knowledge of the art world, and a deep love for cultivated ease. Books in handsome bindings ; fine steel engravings in choice frames ; excellent oil paintings; dainty bits of marble, bronze, and majolica; specimens of beautiful ceramics, curios, and oddities from a score of lands evidence a catholic taste and much time spent sight-seeing. The presence of several pianos speaks for itself. One of these, an odd, electric music mechanism, called by the baby his "electric" or u trolley," is a feature of [84] Annie O'Neill the establishment. As a matter of fact, it is, or was originally, an admirable instrument; but the simple mechanism has been mastered by the enfant terrible, who, with childish enthusiasm, insists upon serenading his mother and every stranger within the gates. What with the in- vention on the one side and the small boy on the other, probably no home more resembles a continuous concert-room. Miss O'Neill is a fine instrumentalist, and upon her own Weber, not Judge Jack's u elec- tric," plays regularly every day, and entertains her friends whenever she holds a social func- tion. In no one are the maternal and domestic virtues more predominant. Outside of her pro- fessional work Miss O'Neill's life is merged in her little son and her home. Her chief occu- pations are entertaining and teaching the boy, and beautifying and improving her house, which, to her, is in itself an education to the youthful mind. M I think," said she, u that a boy's educa- tion should begin at birth, and that as far as possible he should be accustomed to the best and highest thoughts and achievements of the race. In playing music, great compositions should be selected, employing, of course, those [85] Eminent Actors in Their Homes sufficiently melodic to please the undeveloped ear. I notice with my baby that he already dislikes common music or any air that is poorly rendered. Besides these features, there should be great care bestowed upon the child's physi- cal nature. He should use all exercises which tend to develop grace, agility, and bodily con- trol. Gymnastics whose aim is the mere de- velopment of muscle and the creation of simple brute strength do little good; oftentimes they do harm by transferring all the child's energy to his body to the neglect of his mind and soul. Those should be preferred which follow out the natural growth of a human being, helping na- ture to develop the perfect man, and increasing the physical vitality, which then may be utilized in mental and moral channels." Miss O'Neill's system is based upon these ideas. Every clear day when she is in New York she takes Jack out driving, walking, or sleighing. With him she visits the Park, mu- seums, art galleries, and other places of interest, while at home she oversees the little curriculum which has been mapped out for his mind and body. In Jack's sanctum, where she is obliged to sit and listen to the young man, there is a juvenile carpenter shop, a diminutive art studio, [86] Annie O'Neill a machinist's bench, and a collection of toys which would please the heart of Santa Claus. Once, while the writer was visiting Miss O'Neill, the young hopeful improved the op- portunity by painting upon his mother's slipper a gorgeous chromatic figure which he explained to be a bird of paradise ! The arrangement of the home is very simple and sensible, involving a minimum of trouble in going up and down stairs. On the first floor are the drawing-room and dining-room, and back of the dining-room a pleasant den intended for lounging after a meal. On the second floor the library and art-room occupy the front of the house, and back of these are the boudoir, the nursery, and other living rooms. The color scheme is varied from apartment to apartment. The drawing-room is in pink, Louis Quinze style; the dining-room, Moorish; the library a dark Russian red, and the boudoir in del and white. The mistress of the home has a fondness for man's noblest companion, the horse, and keeps a small stable of unusual excellence. She is a skilful rider and driver, and has a singular power of winning the affections of her equine prop- erty. All of her horses know her, and regard [87] Eminent Actors in "Their Homes her as an intimate friend. Two of them, her favorites, a pair of bays, have been so carefully trained and treated, that they might at a pinch be used for performing purposes. It is behind them that she and Jack take their daily drives in the city, and go wandering about the country while living at their home in Red Bank. " I like social pleasure," said Miss O'Neill, il and formerly indulged my desires to the ut- most; but it is impossible for a woman in the active practice of the dramatic profession to give more than a small amount of her time to receiving and entertaining. Against my will I have, therefore, been compelled to deprive myself of many pleasures which I formerly enjoyed. I devote my life to my calling and to my little son, and only now and then enter- tain my many friends. (( My favorite reading is Scotch poetry. This, it seems to me, has been overlooked somewhat in late years; so much so, that I run across people who think that the Caledonian muse is restricted to Robert Burns. To them such names as Hogg, Lockhart, Ayton, Aytoum, Drummond, Ramsay, Kirkconnell, Joanna Bail- lie, and Beattie are unknown. Even Macaulay and Scott are remembered by their prose, while [88] Annie O'Neill their poetry seems to have been half forgotten. There is a certain quaintness and directness in the Scotch poets which appeal to me very greatly. Most fascinating of all are the old ballads and songs which have been preserved by collectors. Many of them are of unknown parentage, and the names which are attached to them have no significance to-day. But these lays are so graphic, and even dramatic, that they sound like the trumpet of a heroic age. So, too, are the songs of war and politics which were evolved during the long struggle between Scotland and England, and afterwards in the bitter feuds between the Jacobins and the Loy- alists. These breathe the intensity of the Scotch character, an intensity which under the pressure of civil conflict often became ferocity and cruelty, hard to reconcile with the amiable and generous nature of the race. ' ' [89] Edward Harrigan At Schroon Lake <5 5^ CO IP VII Edward Harrigan At Schroon Lake IN the southern part of that paradise the Adirondacks lies Schroon Lake, one of the most beautiful bodies of water on the American Continent. A wild mountain coun- try stretches between it and Lakes George and Champlain to the east; a virgin forest, broken by silver streams, forms the western landscape; while to the north, mountains outline the horizon, culminating in the ring of the Appa- lachian range, Mount Marcy. From spring till snowfall the air is filled with ozone and the balsamic breath of the north woods. The waters swarm with fish, the air with birds, and in the forests are deer, foxes, and the other four-footed children of the grove. Agriculture has invaded the territory, but only enough to make infrequent clearings in the primeval for- est. The march of improvement seems to have stopped short at the borders of Lake Champlain and Lake George. Life is not disturbed by the roar of engines and machinery, by the thun- [93] Eminent Actors in 'Their Homes der of multitudes and the discordant noises of a great city. Everything invites to rest and to the contemplation of good old Mother Nature. The invitation is known to the world, and has been accepted by tens of thousands of happy guests. Of these quite a number live up in this Garden of Eden the year through ; but the vast army comes northward and goes southward with the sun, so that the woods are populous in midsummer, and halls of silence when the snow covers the ground. Among the regular guests, one of the most inveterate is Edward Harrigan, the actor, playwright, and author. His home is an old-fashioned structure not far from the shore of Schroon Lake, and is the centre of what his neighbors call a farm. For it Mr. Harrigan has a different term. " Yes," he says, M I have a farm, if you want to call it such. It was a farm some time in the dear, dead past, when a philosophic agri- culturist endeavored to raise oats from blocks of granite and to cultivate strawberries in trout streams. But it is so no more. My only ten- ant is Nature; she runs the fields to suit her- self, and she does the best work you ever saw in this world. She has covered up the fences until they look like green bowers or the lanes [94] Edward Harrigan of old Ireland. She has put a fine varnish of mosses and lichens on my cottage and build- ings until no one would suspect that their owner was anything but a first-class mossback. She has sowed weeds, vines, briers, and lots of things for which botanists have unpronounc- able names, until the place is the finest jungle this side of India. If it were not so cold, you could lie off" under a tree and imagine that there was a tiger in the potato patch and an elephant in the orchard. u I think I am a philanthropist in my farm- ing, because I let my neighbors take everything they want. They mow my grass and carry it away with them; they trim the trees and use the beautiful trimmings, I am told, for fire- wood ; and altogether we have a happy family. The farm costs me nothing but the taxes; the neighbors keep it habitable to a certain extent, and charge me nothing for their services." Near the Harrigan house is a wilderness of flowers, which indicates that both the owner and his bright-eyed wife have a deep love for nature's fairest ornament. (l I recommend flowers," says Harrigan, il as an aid to poetic literature. I never go into my garden, especially if there be fair friends with [95] Eminent Actors in Their Homes me, without reciting poetry. It is not neces- sary to know much about flowers so long as the colors fit. Every one knows that roses are red and violets are blue ; that the daisy is a ( wee, modest, crimson-tipped flow'r'; that forget-me- nots should always be handed to a spoony young man, and that buttercups should be rubbed under the chin of a pretty girl to ascertain whether she loves butter or not. I am not quite certain, but I think dahlias have something to do with pride, and that the heartsease is identified with tender sentiments. It does not make any dif- ference if you forget what flower is meant when you are entertaining your guests, so long as you have the quotation pat. Take the first flower with the right color, and then quote away." Over the door of the house should be in- scribed FalstafPs immortal line, * ( Shall I Not Take Mine Ease in Mine Own Inn ? " The whole place is imbued with an atmos- phere of restful idleness. Here Mr. Harrigan and his family have been spending their sum- mers for many years, and the arrangements show the results of a long inhabitancy by one [96] Edward Harrigan group of inmates. There are all the conven- iences which express the personal desires of the individual. Here is a corner sacred to fishing tackle, where rods, new and old, indicate the angler. In another corner are fowling pieces, while here and there and everywhere are reading chairs, book-shelves, and comfortable tables, which show that the people of the house are devoted to literary joys, if not pursuits. In the case of Mr. Harrigan both indications are borne out by the facts. Here during the holidays he reads, edits, revises, and writes. It was in this cosey home that he prepared the play of u In- vestigation," and changed and improved nearly every one of the twenty dramas of New York life which won him name and fame. If the creations of the brain could be mate- rialized, the house would be filled with the blithest company ever gathered under a single roof. Here would be Dan Mulligan, poor and rich, and poor again ; but, no matter what the condition of his pocket, always the same mad, merry, manly, and fascinating soul; here would be quaint Mrs. Mulligan, with vast ambition and deficient grammar, kindly heart, and shrew- ish tongue; here would be the Ancient Order of Full Moons, with their Ethiopian drollery and 7 [97] Eminent Actors in Their Homes ridiculous ceremony; here would be the tough boys and girls of the Bowery, rough diamonds one and all ; here Mr. Riley and his Four Hun- dred, the German undertaker Lochmuller, the Chinese laundryman, the newsboy, and the policeman; and here, sitting in a corner, with loving eyes gleaming upon those about him, would sit Old Lavender, as if in consecration of the place. Some artist once drew a striking picture in which Charles Dickens, while clos- ing his eyes over his cigar, became surrounded with the many characters of his novels. They formed a wondrous host, and each was a figure of strange attractiveness. If it could be done to Edward Harrigan a more generous canvas would be required, and a similar army of happy incarnations would decorate the surface. u I cannot say that I do overmuch work," quoth the comedian, i c when I am up at Schroon ; there are too many other things to attend to. I find it necessary every day to look carefully over at the village to see that no building has taken flight during the night. Nothing would give me more pain than to have that village of Schroon suddenly abscond while I was sleep- ing. I feel that I have a vested interest in every house. It is not because they are valu- [98] Edward Harrigan able or particularly beautiful, but it is because they are old friends. u There are several toward which I feel as a little boy does toward an aged grandsire. They have not been painted since the time of Colum- bus, and nature has decorated them with fungus until they look as if they were arrayed in robes of velvet. The years have undermined them, until many have to be propped up just as old men are supported by crutches. I know that some day a strong wind will come along, and then good-by old barn and ancient shed; and, between ourselves, I am a-watching for that wind. u Then I have to attend to my deep studies in ichthyology. People out here say I am a fisherman, but that is arrant nonsense. I do not care whether I catch a fish or not; and as for knowing their habits, I am just as ignorant as the young man who comes up from New York with a five-hundred-dollar fishing tackle, and who has to hire a country boy to catch fishes for him with a worm and a bent needle. I study fishes as a philosopher. I like to pon- der upon what they mean when they poise per- fectly still for two hours in front of my hook without ever moving either toward or away from [99] Eminent Actors in Their Homes me. Then I love to debate as to when or how they sleep, or if they sleep at all, or if they are troubled with chronic insomnia. " I am a great hunter, and I hunt upon a basis of common sense. I stay at home and have my boys go out and do all the hard work for me. If they bag a bird or get a rabbit or capture a deer, why I eat the spoils. In this way I manage to have a reasonable amount of game every year to keep up my record as a sportsman, while all the labor and suffering of the pastime are borne by those near and dear to me. I have killed a great many deer by proxy, and likewise secured hundreds of game birds of every sort. You can safely apply to me for all information concerning hunting in the Adiron- dacks." Mr. Harrigan makes an ideal host. He sings well, and has an endless repertoire of songs and ballads at the tip of his tongue. Many, if not most, of these are echoes of his long career upon the stage; but others are melodic gems that he has picked up from Irish, German, French, and other sources. As a raconteur he is a star in his own right. Here his talent as a great comedian has full play, and to hear him tell and act a story is a performance equal [ioo] Edward Harrigan to anything witnessed upon the metropolitan boards. This quality makes him very popular, and attracts to him a never-ending circle of friends and acquaintances. Almost every day in the summertide, when at home in the Adiron- dacks, he is the centre of a delightful group, who sit spellbound as he draws picturesque jest or story from either memory or the imagination. In appearance he looks more like a well- groomed and intellectual member of the clergy than like an actor. His features are clear cut and almost classic in their regularity, and his figure that of a well-built and well-nourished man. The years have told lightly upon him. Though well on in the fifties, he would readily pass muster for one on the sunny side of forty. He is a New Yorker by birth, education, and life's work. He started at the bottom of the ladder, and worked his way upward to his pres- ent position. No man has done more to en- dear the stage to the public, and none has ever set cleaner and higher standards in the presen- tation of plays. In private life, as in his pro- fessional work, his voice once heard will not be forgotten. It has the clear enunciation of the Irish gentleman; it is the vehicle of the rich vocabulary of the man who has studied, [ioil Eminent Actors in Their Homes travelled, and seen the world, and beyond this it possesses a certain musical quality that is exceedingly rare. The writer cannot forget an afternoon when Mr. Harrigan was depicting to a circle of smil- ing friends his experiences in Salt Lake City in the old days when the Gentile population was very small. His description of how the families marched into the theatre, each headed by a dignified, bearded man, followed by a regi- ment of wives and children; and how, when they were all seated, each paterfamilias, stand- ing up, ran his eyes over the lot, as if calling an inaudible roll, was one of the most delight- ful bits of humor that was ever told to a party of friends. [102] Annie Ward Tiffany By the Sea-shore. oq ft VIII Annie Ward Tiffany By the Sea-shore A T the head of Buzzard's Bay, Massachu- /% setts, is a beautiful little harbor with -JL \. the unpoetic name of Buttermilk Bay, which was so named by the old Puri- tans because the chop-sea made its waters a lac- teal white. Upon the shore is a dramatic col- ony known by the farmers as Jeffersontown because the head and front of the offending is none other than Joseph Jefferson. Next to him in popular esteem is Annie Ward Tif- fany, who in private life is Mrs. C. H. Green. Her home is a cosey rambling cottage, half con- tinental and half Tiffany, as her neighbors call it. It stands upon a lawn, and from its spreading veranda can be seen the blue waters of the bay and the thick shady groves which make so charming a feature of the territory. All through the ground are shells of various sorts, and all over the house are vines. " I do not mind confessing," said Miss Tiffany, "that I love to study nature, in a very [105] Eminent Actors in Their Homes humble way, and that I have two fads — one is vines, and the other, sea-shells. They are very satisfactory hobbies. The beauty of a vine is that after you once plant it, it takes care of itself. Now if you have a rose, you have to be very careful, and even then it is generally certain to produce no flowers, so that your time is all wasted ; but with these dear vines, they grow and grow, and all you have to do is to get the scissors and trim them every now and then. There is no strain upon the mind. It is the same thing with sea-shells. They never run away from you, but just lie still and wait to be picked up. You take people who collects birds' eggs, birds, butterflies, insects, and other things, and they are always hurrying and worrying as if they had the trouble of the world upon their shoulders. But with shells there is no bother at all. If you lose one, or your husband takes out one and breaks it, just stroll down to the beach and get another, and your collection is complete again." The veranda would cheer the heart of an athlete. There is a punching-bag at one place and hammocks at others; there are easy bam- boo chairs here and there, which invite the passer-by to sit down and do nothing, and in [io6] Annie Ward ^Tiffany the hottest day of summer there are cooling shade and an inspiring breeze from the sea. " A person could get very strong here," said Miss Tiffany, "if it were not for the sedative action of the air. If you exercise a minute, you want to lie off in the hammock for three hours." The interior of the house is as comfortable as the veranda. It is finished in hard wood, and fairly shines with its cleanness. In the library a capital selection of books appeals to the reader, and the living-rooms are models of convenience. The general color effect is blue and white, to suggest the heavens in May, when they are dap- pled with white clouds. " The best feature of my dining-room," said the hostess, as she ushered the visitor through the place, "is the diamond window. This is made to imitate a porthole on ship-board, and is an aid to the imagination. You sit down, look at it fixedly, and fancy you are at sea. It is almost as good as crossing the ocean, and you never get sea-sick." The old-fashioned drawing-room, with its fireplace, is very alluring, and would be antique but for the cosey-corner in which the latest mod- ern comfort is achieved. Upon the walls are [107] Eminent Actors in Their Homes many pictures, but those which are prized the most are paintings by Joseph Jefferson, which he presented to the " Shamrock," as he calls the mistress of the cottage. The spirit of the place is rest and reading, exercise and fresh air. No matter in what room you may be, each win- dow opens upon a landscape of calm and serene beauty. Through the house the salt breeze blows day and night. On the veranda or the lawn there is always a party of friends and young people laughing and playing, and into each window and embrasure the vines come creeping as if they had suddenly become soci- able and wanted to join the family. "The name of my cottage," remarked the hostess, "is more practical than poetic. It is best known as c Biddy's Nest.' It is also called c Lady Blarney's Castle.' Here I come when the season closes, and do little or nothing until I am called away by my professional work in the fall. I make believe fish, but fishes always avoid my hook; and I do just enough bicycling to keep my wheel from wearing out from rust. I read and talk, and really I do exercise some, but not enough to arouse any fear of over-strain- ing my muscles. If I were going to give it a literary name I should call it c The Hall of [108J Annie Ward Tiffany Happy Indolence.' When I am in the city I live or exist in Thirty-ninth Street, near Broad- way, and it is a very enjoyable place. But this is my real home, and here I find the happiest hours of my life. We have pleasant neigh- bors, genial friends, health, and good spirits. What, after all, will give a person greater con- tent ? cc My professional life has been quite long and varied in regard to the number of roles played, but not in reference to conduct or changes. I went upon the stage at an early age, rose rapidly, and when still a young woman was playing leading parts. I look back and smile at those days when I acted Camille, ^Juliet, and Viola. I did very fairly, and thought that I would keep on in that line of characters during the rest of my life. But this was not to be. I happened to be cast once in a role of an Irish- woman, which was comedy, or rather c charac- ter,' in its nature. In this I was singularly successful, and it suddenly dawned upon me that I really had greater talent for this kind of work than I had for the other. I made my first hit in this type of part in c The Shadows of a Great City,' written by Mr. Jefferson and L. R. Sherwell. From that time on I have [109] Eminent Actors in Their Homes appeared chiefly in humorous or eccentric parts. Besides Biddy Ronan^ which was my role in c The Shadows of a Great City,' I have also had long runs as Lady Blarney , and the c Step-daughter. ' The Irish drama seems to grow in popularity with the years, and Irish character parts never lose their hold upon the public heart. I do not think any one can play them thoroughly unless he has been to Ireland and studied the various types to be found in the country and towns as well as in the cities. It is possible to find models in New York, but the new-comers are so quickly modified by American influences that they lose their native flavor to a considerable extent. I have run across the ocean a number of times, and have studied, I think, nearly every Irish class from the Corkonians in the south to the 4 Far-downs, ' as they are called, up in the north. cc The secret of the success of the Hibernian character lies in its buoyancy and fun. Pat and Biddy seldom brood and never despair. Even in their deepest woe they are bound to perceive the slightest element of fun. They are quick in their perceptions, and have a knack of using picturesque words and phrases. It is this com- bination which appeals to every one, and espe- [no] Annie Ward Tiffany cially to those who are unable to create humor. English and Americans, Scotch and Welsh laugh just as heartily over poor Pat as do his own people." When Miss Tiffany comes to her city home she becomes a busy and active member of the community. Her apartments in Thirty-ninth Street have a strong literary and artistic charac- ter, beneath which can be seen the domestic tendencies. She is a skilful needlewoman, and takes pleasure in embroidery, crotcheting, and art designing. She entertains largely, and is in- terested in the welfare of members of her pro- fession who have been unfortunate. To them her home is a house of refuge, and many are the victims of ill-luck who have enjoyed her bounty. She herself is the centre of a large group of friends. In her professional career she has been associated with many of the lead- ing figures of the American theatre for the past thirty years. A memory of rare power enables her to relate interesting anecdotes respecting ac- tors, managers, theatres, and professional in- cidents that would fill several volumes. She carries with her from the country her love of fresh air and exercise, and spends much of her leisure in long walks upon the great thorough- [in] Eminent Actors in Their Homes fares, studying the architecture and the people of the metropolis. "We are too apt," she said, "to settle down in a rut and neglect our locomotor muscles. There is no aid to health so effective as a good walk, and I ascribe much of my health to the pedestrian habits that I have cultivated all my life. The practice of taking walks has a pro- fessional value. In strolling through a large city one is always bound to encounter odd peo- ple and to see odd incidents. Nearly all have dramatic value, and some are indescribably funny. Many of the best bits of comedy upon the boards have been taken from sources of this sort, and I doubt not but that the supply in a city like New York is inexhaustible. ' ' [112] May Robson The Domestic Side of a Great Artist s? * IX May Robson The Domestic Side of a Great Artist IT is a rare thing for a woman to excel as a character artist and comedian. The dis- guise of a pleasing individuality; the ob- literation of all the fine, attractive elements of a personality ; and the substitution of those which are grotesque, awkward, satirical, or ridiculous, seem to require a masculine rather than a femi- nine temperament. For one woman who has succeeded in roles of this description, there have been twenty men. It is rarer still when the woman is beautiful and cultured. Such a type calls up Rosalind rather than Audrey; Lydia Languish rather than Mrs. Malaprop ; Juliet rather than the Nurse ; yet this is what May Robson, who in private life is Mrs. Brown, the wife of Dr. Augustus H. Brown, has done, so well as to make herself famous. Those who have not met her in private life can form no conception of the real woman who exists be- neath the droll creations which she has presented to the public during the past seventeen years, [us] Eminent Actors in "Their Homes The power of make-up is so efficient that her name suggests, it may be, a ghastly old maid \ a broken-down and senile French servant ; a coarse, drawling, country maid ; a vulgar domestic off for a day's outing ; a caricature upon some celebrity ; or any possible individuality excepting her own. Yet paint and powder do not altogether dis- guise her. They cannot detract from her tall stature, her symmetric figure, and her graceful outlines. Neither do they conceal altogether her bright, intellectual eyes. When she does not wear a wig, any one can admire her mane of golden-brown hair. At times she plays in parts which permit her to be natural in her gait and carriage. She is then notable for her grace and easy bearing. By seeing her in a dozen roles it would be possible to catch in each a glimpse of her real self, and by putting these together form a complete image of her individu- ality. In no other way can a theatre-goer ob- tain the slightest conception of this distinguished member of the American stage. A woman who for the sake of her art is will- ing to sacrifice for the time being all her come- liness must have a high regard for aesthetics. That this is the case of Miss Robson is easily ascertained by a visit to her at her home, a fine [116] May Robson mansion on West One Hundred and Thirty- sixth Street, New York City, not far from Morningside Park and the rocky ridge on which tower Columbia, Barnard, and Teachers' col- leges, and the slowly growing Cathedral of St. John the Divine. This is one of the fairest residential sections of Manhattan, and the en- vironment is singularly free from the noise of trade, the mad rush of the business world, and the squalor and suffering of the tenement-house districts. A glance at the interior of the home reveals the real characteristics of its owner. Masterpieces of the French poets show her to be familiar with the language and literature of that land; a piano and piles' of music show a strong love for the melodic ; sketches of all sorts, ranging from mere outlines to finished canvas, indicate that the occupant is skilled with the brush and pencil. Books, pictures, curios, oddi- ties, and objects of scientific interest are inti- mations of a versatility of the rarest kind. The house is a reflection of Miss Robson. Its prevailing character is that of refinement, de- mureness, and comfort. The wall papers are of velvet, and the style of the furniture colonial. The chairs and sofas are pleasant to look upon, and pleasanter to employ. It is obvious that [ii7] Eminent Actors in Their Homes they have been selected by a person who has dwelt in many lands. Below the general expres- sion are sub-expressions which indicate qualities. Every here and there is a surprise, something which elicits a shrug, a smile, or a quickening of the breath. You know that the owner is a wit and humorist, if not a practical joker. The placing of delicious little bits of pictorial drollery alongside of serious tableaux drawn in the same shade and color is an illustration in point. An- other trick of this kind is an ingenious piano so constructed that it converts the drawing-room into two apartments. Equally amusing is the building of a bookcase in front of a pier-glass so as to cover a goodly portion of the gleaming surface of the latter. CC I got tired of the old glass," said Miss Robson, "and did not know what to do with it. I liked it too well to send it away. I am not a good shot, so I did not care to throw any- thing at it, and I therefore hired a joiner to build a bookcase that would disturb the self- satisfied and patronizing expression of the mir- ror, and give it a little local tone and character. I cannot look at it without it seeming to re- proach me for having half-hidden it behind a lot of books. There is a jealousy, I believe, be- [118] May Robson tween looking-glasses and books. The former reflect the body; the latter, the mind; and for that reason every mirror has a feeling of con- tempt for all the products of the printing-press." The spirit of fun, half-quizzical and half- mischievous, crops out in the most unexpected places. In the windows are many potted plants. In each pot the flower is a beautiful creation, but alongside of each is sprouting some com- mon plant whose seeds have been blown there by the wind. In the dining-room is an old-fashioned Jaco- bean coffer. "That is one of my favorites," said the owner. " Just think of its long life and all that it has seen and heard. It has taken part in plots and conspiracies, and probably witnessed hundreds of young couples making love. It was gray-haired before Washington was born, and it may have seen King Charles, Rochester, and Buckingham. It has not any hinges, and so I make believe that it comes down from the ages before hinges were invented. You need not say that there always have been hinges, be- cause there must have been a time when the first hinge had not been invented, and there is no reason why I should not pretend that the [119] Eminent Actors in Their Homes dear old chest is an antediluvian. There is a secret drawer inside, mysterious enough to contain a lost will, rows of golden doubloons, and some hideous poison from the Orient. It did not have any of these things at all when we discovered it. We found it one day by acci- dent, and my heart was nearly broken when it was opened, to see that it was empty. Some day I shall get up some strange papers full of romance and tragedy to put in that drawer, and so furnish it appropriately." In the same room is a large collection of steins. "Those," she continued, "are the map of Germany and Austria. In travelling it is a wise rule to keep a memorandum of each place you visit. Some travellers have their passports vised in every city until the parchment looks like a worn-out blotter. Other travellers bring home guide-books, which are the dullest of all reading. In our case Dr. Brown and myself accumulate steins. Every one represents a city and has a story connected with it. I have for- gotten the stories, and I do not quite remember the cities, but it makes a delightful map of the Fatherland, all the same. Those ancient brasses came from Waterloo. I got them by accident, [120] May Robson or rather by mistake. We visited a house on the battlefield where they offered souvenirs to the unwary. They had hundreds of relics, and sold so many that I knew there must be a relic factory in the immediate neighborhood. Of course, I would not buy any, because I could have them made to order at any time in New York for one quarter of the money; so I went prowling through the old place, and in the attic I found these old brasses and other rubbage. I asked the caretaker how much these pieces were, and was told that they were not for sale, but that I could have them for a small sum. I purchased them, had them cleaned nicely, and they are about the best curios I secured that season." Her china closet would delight any lover of ceramics. She has a weakness for the potter's art, and at one time in her career was a suc- cessful artist in china decorating. The collec- tion represents her tastes and work. Some of it is plain, some decorative in color, and others in simple or chromatic relief. The kilns of nearly every nation are represented. From England, Wedgwood, Worcester, Doulton, and Derby have sent their wares; from Germany, Berlin and Dresden; from France, Sevres [ 121 ] Eminent Actors in Their Homes and Paris; from Holland, Delft and Leyden; and from Japan, Kioto and Osaka. Tower- ing over all is a vast punch-bowl, on which the following inscription tells a mute story: " POPPIE From a Few of Her Many Friends, May 20, 1894." In her boudoir comfort, ease, and beauty combine to produce an atmosphere of perfect content. The room is made to look larger than it really is by the avoidance of all dark colors. The coloring of the walls is almost white; the furniture is in pale tints or enamel, and on the floor white rugs and furs reflect the light which streams in through the windows. Everywhere are dashes of dainty color. A giant armoire looks as if it had seen service in the court of Louis XV., while lace curtains of rare beauty form a pleasing background to the eye. In each window are those delights of the Southern girl, window-seats; while against the wall a huge sofa, upholstered in creamy white, invites the caller to sit and rest. The remainder of the mansion is marked by the same character as the boudoir, dining-room, [122] May Robson and salon. It impresses one with a sense of historic knowledge and the love of art. "I do not know," said Miss Robson, " whether I am domestic or not. In one re- spect I am not, because I love to travel; and every summer my husband and I take a trip abroad, where we spend the happiest weeks of the year. I was educated in Paris and Belgium, and I have, of course, the deep attachment which every one feels for the scenes of their school days, but it is not local. I take as much joy in visiting Holland, the land of ducks, dikes, and draymen ; Germany, always on dress parade ; or Austria, where the nation seems half asleep. But the rest of the year, especially when I am playing, I am very domestic, and like my own home. I do not indulge much in social func- tions, giving only one c at home ' a month. Here I read, study new parts, invent stage business, attend to my writing and correspondence, look after household matters, and paint. I was a painter before I became a player, and I have never lost my affection for the palette and brush. I have worked along many lines in illustrating, sketching, making pictures, designing stained glass, and goodness only knows how many other forms of art. What talent I have in this field [ 123] Eminent Actors in Their Homes has been of much use to me in make-up. The training which my former profession gave me enables me to detect colors, tints, shades, and shadows in the eccentric faces I meet every day on the street, so that I can reproduce them at pleasure. This frees me from the conventional rules of the stage, which treat making up as a stereotyped affair, and not as a special study in itself." Of the many parts assumed by Miss Robson, the more prominent have been Miss Ashford, in "The Private Secretary" ; Tilly, in " The Hoop of Gold " ; Crafer, in « Liberty Hall " ; Kitty, in " Gloriana " ; Melia, in " Lady Bountiful " ; Artemise, in " A Night's Session " ; and Madam Pom-Pom, in " Make Way for the Ladies." [124] David Warjield At Leisure David IV ar field's Studio. X David Warjield At Leisure IT is eleven o'clock in the morning, and a trimly built, lithe man is walking briskly along one of the paths of that beautiful enclosure, Central Park. A policeman salutes him with a pleasant word, and is saluted in turn with equal geniality. A horticulturist calls to him from a flower bed, and the pedestrian, facing about, joins the gardener. The next second he is discussing some new flower which the metrop- olis has brought from a foreign land. Five minutes afterwards you encounter him under the trees, picking up the leaves which have fallen from the boughs, or collecting mosses and other lowly forms of vegetable life. Two squirrels play near him, showing that he is an old friend ; and a pert sparrow hops in front of him, peer- ing up into his visage, as if to inquire why he busied himself with worthless plants. As the man looks down at the sparrow you can under- stand why the bird has no fear. The face is [127] Eminent Actors in Their Homes calm and thoughtful ; the blue-gray eyes are clear, kindly, and magnetic ; and on the face a curious smile suggests a mingling of joy and sorrow, temperamental rather than emotional. This is David Warfield, the character actor, who in the presentation of Russian, Polish, and Jewish types has achieved enduring fame. His excursions in Central Park are a part of his well- ordered life. Every day he tries to fill his lungs with ozone, and to offset the carbonic acid of the stage by long walks in the open and by com- munion with nature and her great kingdom of plants and animals. To this practice is due a health and vigor which have enabled him to stand the strain of theatrical work, without a break- down for many years. "Breakdowns," he says, "come from using one part of your organism too much and other parts too little, or none at all. The unused functions get jealous and make trouble for you. The only safe rule is to exercise all your faculties, physical as well as mental, and then you will find that life is rather worth living, and that your digestion, sleeping, and conscience will rarely trouble you." If you join him in his morning walk, you will find that his hour for reaching home is fixed, not [128] David TVarjield by the watch or clock, but by his wife's presence or absence. "We won't go home until noon," he says, " because my wife is marketing, and I do not want to enter the place until she returns. With- out her it is lonely, and I dislike lonely houses. ' ' The declaration is suggestive of the man's inner nature. He is sociable in the sense of desiring the company of those who are near and dear to him. If left to himself, he would be- come an inveterate club man. Marriage has converted him into a model head of the house- hold. His home is on the west side of Central Park, not far from Amsterdam Avenue. The moment you enter it you are impressed with an atmosphere utterly different from that of the neighborhood. The latter is essentially modern and Western. The intense pressure and strain of modern life is symbolized by the elevated rail- way, and the electric cars that go whizzing past, by the automobiles which steam or puff along the thoroughfares, and the bustle and hum of the city. The buildings are all new and full of the latest conceits and contrivances of the builder and architect. Within, everything suggests the Far East. Egypt, Arabia, Turkestan, India, Turkey, and 9 [ 129 ] Eminent Actors in Their Homes the Holy Land have been drawn upon to fur- nish and decorate his home. Theophile Gautier would be at ease in any one of the Warfield rooms. In the music-room the ensemble is es- sentially Egyptian; in the drawing-room it is Indian. The library might have been equipped by the Emir of Mocha or the Governor of Salonica. Each room has an Oriental character different from that of the rest. Everywhere is rich primary color — royal scarlet, Tyrian purple, yellow and red gold, silver and bronze, banyan- green, and translucent cinnamon. These are not displayed in the coarse style which marks the attempts of the Occidental to employ them for ornamental purposes, but are so combined as to produce the feeling of rich warmth and of absolute ease so characteristic of the older civilizations of the Mediterranean. It would not be a surprise to a visitor if through the cur- tains came a black slave bearing a fragrant chibouque and a carafe of half-frozen sherbet. In both the salon and music-room the eye rests pleasurably upon a series of pedestals in white and gold, each bearing a statue or bust. Here is Cleopatra in her deathless beauty; here a sylph-like dancing girl such as might have de- lighted a Sultan or Rajah ; and here is a sphinx in [130] David Warfield bronze, looking with calm eyes upon the books of the present century. On the walls are bril- liant pictures of characters or scenes from Mo- rocco, Cairo, and the land of the Euphrates. The figures upon the canvas seem at home in the place where each one would be a fitting inmate. " I have a strong love for these Eastern wares," he says, "especially the Egyptian. There is a certain significance as well as beauty in Nilotic art which gives me a curious kind of satisfaction. They express repose, content, and the absence of sorrow. They are free from what Emerson calls c the spirit of divine discon- tent. ' The carving on yonder stool is grateful to the eye ; but, beyond this, it is in some way a miniature of the mosques and minarets of Cairo and Alexandria, and, beyond these, of the great temples of the Nile. Americans take pleasure in the work of Shakespeare, who lived three hundred years ago ; the people of Egypt take pleasure in the work of the artists of forty cen- turies ago, and express their feelings in the simple furniture and ornamentation of their homes." In the music-room the central figure is a concert grand piano. Here the owner passes some time every day. He is more than a skilled [131] Eminent Actors in "Their Homes player, being a composer of considerable ability, and possessing the rare power of extemporization. "I am very old-fashioned in my musical tastes," he says. "My heart goes out to Beethoven and the other old masters. I like many of the new composers, and every now and then some modern composition gives me rare joy ; but as a regular diet give me the masterpieces of the last century, when Bach and Beethoven were the two kings of the world of melody. They appeal to all moods and passions. When I am angry the sonata will bring calm, and when I am weary the heroic symphony will restore me to brisk activity. A nocturne will cure insomnia, and a prayer or mass will enable me to forgive the awful ped- ler who is screaming his wares on the sidewalk in front of my house. I like, too, the great song-writers. In my pantheon Schumann and Schubert have golden altars, and with them are a score of composers of minor note, but of the same school. Yes, I suppose I am a classicist in my musical yearnings." In the study the most noticeable detail is an open volume of a folio Shakespeare. The large type is a veritable treat to the eyes in these days of microscopic printing. Any one [132] David Warjield can read the pages at a yard's distance. The book is a favorite of Mr. Warfield, and from it he has learned to recite, from beginning to end, seventeen plays of the immortal drama- tist. The walls in this room are covered with pictures of scenes from various plays. They are arranged with great ingenuity, so as to rep- resent a map of the United States. During his professional tours he has played and kept records of his parts in nearly all the leading cities of the land. The pictures typify these scenes or parts, and they are arranged so that their position cor- responds to the city on the map of the Union wherein they were produced. Mr. Warfield calls it a theatrical geography, and claims that it is much easier to remember than those studied at school in his boyhood. "I hope," he says, u that ere my career is over I will be able to make Shylock lie west of c The Auctioneer,' south of the c Merry World, ' and north of c The City Directory. ' This will be much easier and pleasanter than saying that St. Louis is west of Cincinnati, east of Denver, south of Omaha, and north of New Orleans." In the same room is a series of pictures illus- trating the actor's studies in the ghetto ; Here are the cantor and Russian rabbi, the Schatchen [133] Eminent Actors in Their Homes and Schohat, the Polak and Galitzin, the Lithuak and Belt. The furnishing is simple, but inviting, and consists in the main of well-filled bookcases and divans. "There is no reason," says the actor, "why in reading and study a man should not give his body perfect rest in order to concentrate his attention upon the printed page. Why should a person when busy with a book sit bolt upright in an uncomfortable library chair ? If he does, he is bound to be uneasy and miserable before an hour has gone by." In this sanctum Mr. Warfield does his work with the pen, which ranges from poetry and dramatic composition down to every-day corre- spondence. His "copy " is a joy to the printer, being written in the clear, legible hand which gave our forefathers such delight. One of his chief social recreations consists in informal din- ner parties to a few friends of tastes similar to his own. These feasts are unique. When the meal is over, the function becomes one of rea- son and of fancy. Here Mr. Warfield' s talent of entertaining comes into full play. A large fund of anecdote, a brilliant imagination, and a wide knowledge of English, French, and Ger- man literature enable him to interest all hearers. [*34] David Warfield He often recites De Musset's masterpieces and some of the bright verses of James Whitcomb Riley and Eugene Field; but his Oriental na- ture takes its largest delight in the stately Per- sian Omar, whose famous quatrains are usually heard at every little social gathering. His favor- ite " last words " are the lines : " Yon rising moon that looks for us again — How oft hereafter will she wax and wane ; How oft hereafter rising look for us Through this same garden — and for one in vain ? And when like her, oh Saki, you shall pass Among the Guests Star-scatter' d on the Grass, And in your blissful errand reach the spot Where I made One — turn down an empty Glass ! " [i35] Viola Allen Her Domestic Gods ^ a o «; XI Viola Allen Her Domestic Gods THE invisible lines along which a home grows are drawn partly by the tastes and partly by the hopes of its owner. The artist in due season comes to be shut in by a studio, and the soldier by quarters half-way between barracks and armory. The actor draws to himself such works of art and literature as belong to his profession or illustrate the subjects which are related to the stage. This is essen- tially the case with the home of Viola Allen, which is near Central Park, New York City. It cannot be said of her that she is over domes- tic, her nature being too intense and her intel- lectuality too aggressive to be contented with the calm existence which marks those who have an organic love for the household. Was she to follow her bent, she would probably pass her life amid the great capitals of the world, and more especially among the art galleries, mu- seums, and libraries. The world for which she was intended by nature or Providence is the [139] Eminent Actors in Their Homes world of the mind rather than that which is cir- cumscribed by four walls and a roof. The residence tells the story very clearly. It is artistic and essentially literary and professional. Carved furniture and bric-a-brac, bits of color, and things of beauty are everywhere in evi- dence. Almost as numerous are souvenirs and little tokens from friends. The souvenirs be- tray the poetry of the woman's heart. In each place where a happy hour has been spent, she has obtained some valuable or trifling art work that in days to come shall serve to connect her with the past; on the other hand, the memen- tos from friends are eloquent of numberless acts of courtesy and generosity to those who have come within her circle during the many years in which she has been an ornament to the stage. The feature of her home is the library. None who has ever seen it can forget its wealth and interest. In the main it is a library of the stage, more complete than what can be found in any of the great collections, excepting the few owned by nations and vast corporations. It was started by Miss Allen's father, himself an actor of high standing, and has been con- tinued by her to the present time. Its fame has gone abroad among the profes- [ 140] Viola Allen sion, and such authorities as the late Augustin Daly, Steele Mackaye, and Frank Mayo have referred to it in the highest terms of praise. In its development it has grown along many lines, so as to be a complete organic whole. Here are dramas beginning with the masterpieces of Sophocles, Euripides, and Aristophanes, and coming down through Rome, the Middle Ages, Italy, Spain, France, Germany, England, and the United States to the present day. Even Holland, the Scandinavian lands, and Portugal are represented. Lope de Vega, who has gone down to fame as the most prolific playwright the world ever had, but who is as forgotten to- day as the builders of the Pyramids, has a little place on the shelves of Miss Allen's book-room. Along other lines are to be found the lives of actors and managers; the memoirs of people connected with the stage; biographies of play- wrights; the histories of costumes, arms, and armor; and treatises upon the industries and sub-industries which grow out of the theatre. Of value are the books devoted to the liter- ary aspect of histrionic art. Most of these are by French and German authors, who have given the subject far more consideration than the writers of our own race. Foremost among [141] Eminent Actors in Their Homes these is SchlegePs great work on u Dramatic Literature," and after him come the lesser lights who have made studies upon topics con- nected with the profession. u For my own satisfaction," said Miss Allen, u I have endeavored to have my books repre- sent the stage as an entity. When you are studying some delightful little comedy by Mo- liere, you are apt to run across a passage or a word which is a stumbling-block, and involves, it may be, reference, or, worse still, considerable research. It occurred to me, when but a tyro in these matters, that I ought to have conven- iently at hand the books which explain the knotty points in the other books. We have complete glossaries of Shakespeare, and any number of essays upon his similes, historical incidents, the origins of his plots, the construc- tion of his poetry, and his own personality ; but we have almost no literature upon his brilliant associates of the Elizabethan era, and compar- atively little upon playwrights and plays down to the present time. ( ( In French and German the hiatus is not so marked. Their learned authors have commented upon every name and event of importance in the history of the drama of both lands, so that [142] Viola Allen it is possible to obtain complete knowledge by consulting a limited number of well-assorted books. My own library is an attempt to do this on a larger scale than is usually undertaken. I have had the kind assistance of my father, or rather, I might say, he has had my assist- ance, and between us we have brought into being a collection of which we are, I think justly, proud. Of late years there has been quite a tendency on the part of players to get up libraries of this sort; formerly, I believe, the practice was confined to very few; but the stage has risen to higher standards, and the de- mand for special kinds of literary or intellectual culture renders books of this sort indispensable. There must be several hundreds of such libraries to-day in the country, and there is a friendly rivalry among their owners." During her vacations Miss Allen has trav- elled extensively, and has been enabled to gather countless oddities for her home. A glimpse about her rooms indicates the lands where she has been. Here is a bit of Irish point-lace, and there an odd piece of cairngorm stone from the Scotch Highlands. A noble specimen of English pottery confronts some wondrous metal- work from the Flemish guilds of Belgium; an [i43] Eminent Actors in Their Homes exquisitely carved table from Paris, which might have been made by Charpentier, is vis-a-vis with an inlaid octagonal stool which may have once ornamented a mosque in Cairo. Swiss carvings, plain and simple, contrast strongly with cobweb-like filagree work of Italy, and glorious German pottery seems related in some invisible manner to dainty little figurines from Calabria and Sicily. This composite wealth shows that the owner has three distinct natures — the professional, the intellectual, and the artis- tic — and this, in fact, is a summary of her career upon the boards. It has been marked by high professional capacity, rare mentality, and an aesthetic nature which has poetized all of the parts which have made her famous. Miss Allen's public life has been more fortunate than that of many or most of her colleagues. Born in Alabama, she went to Boston, Massachusetts, when a mere child, and received her education in that city, Toronto, and New York. She was a good student, and stood well in all of her classes. From her father, C. Leslie Allen, she inherited a strong physique, a rich and powerful voice, and a natural aptitude for act- ing. She was but fifteen when she made her de- but as Esmeralda at the Madison Square Theatre. [i44] Viola Allen Probably no actress in the country began her stage work in so summary a fashion, start- ing with a leading part in a first-class company at the age of fifteen, without having had any preliminary experience or training. She did so well that John McCullough, the tragedian, who saw her in her first part, engaged her to be- come a member of his organization. Here she quickly rose to be his leading lady, playing Virginia, Desdemona, Cordelia, Parthenia, and other standard parts. Her next engagement of note was when she appeared with Tomaso Salvini. Following this, she joined the Boston Museum, where she created or played a number of important roles. All roads lead to New York, and Miss Allen went from the Massa- chusetts metropolis to the Empire Theatre on Broadway. Here she soon became a favorite in Gotham. Her chief triumphs were in " Liberty Hall," " Sowing the Wind," H The Masqueraders," u Michael and his Lost An- gel," " John a' Dreams," and " Under the Red Robe." Three years ago she became a star and travelled the country with u The Chris- tian," in which play she reaped a rich reward, professional and financial. In 1901 she ap- peared in the romantic drama u In the Palace 10 [ 145 3 Eminent Actors in 'Their Homes of the King," in which she has surpassed all her former triumphs. Miss Allen's personal appearance is hard to describe. It varies with the moods of her soul and with the eyes of the spectator. One com- petent critic refers to her as graceful and sylph- like, while another of equal standing in the world of letters calls her finely formed, and most impressive upon the boards. Both these descriptions, though contradictory, are true. Her figure is of that rare type which is so sym- metric that with old-fashioned drapery she seems very slender; but when attired as in the simple Manx costume of Glory §)uayle, she appears the possessor of a superb physique. Her face is a Greek oval ; her features half classic and half Moorish. The upper lip is rather long, like that of many of the old Greek statues, and the space between the eyelid and the eyebrow is a trifle larger than usual, which, according to the phrenologists and physiognomists, indicates special aptitude for language. In private life her face is expressive of refinement, kindliness, and intellectuality. Although a marvel of self-possession upon the stage, when away from the footlights she wears an expression that borders on timidity [146] Viola Allen or even shyness. The same contradiction in qualities marks her costume, which is always rich and refined, but so quiet in tone and un- accentuated in treatment as never to arouse comment. In social intercourse she is a pleas- ant companion and a good listener, a rare virtue among professionals. Her tact is notable, while even more characteristic is an optimism which seems to pervade her life. She sees the best side of things, the excellencies of a play, the talents of her friends, the beauties of a land- scape, the fun and the loveliness of life. This optimism is receptive, and not creative. She is thoughtful, but not humorous; poetic, but not witty. The spiritual development observable in her acting makes her a commanding figure, and she is far better in depicting strong emo- tions and deep passions than in voicing persi- flage and the froth of a society play. Her chief recreation is travel. " I think," she said, u that change is as necessary to spir- itual as to physical comfort. After seeing American landscapes and skyscapes for eight months, it is a wonderful joy to look upon the misty atmosphere of Great Britain or the clear, and even brilliant, effects of France. The ear finds relief in listening to the broad vowels of [i47] Eminent Actors in Their Homes London, the nasals of France, and the heavy consonants of Germany. I have a vague im- pression that our nerves somehow or other can detect intangible electrical differences between various countries. There are more people in London than in New York, but there is a cer- tain galvanic intensity in the latter which keeps a person forever on the qui vive. On the other hand, in the dikes and sleepy farms of Hol- land there seems to be a complete absence of this magnetic force, so that the visitor, after the novelty wears off, is forever dreaming of bed- time." At home Miss Allen finds her chief joy in her books and in the society of friends of kin- dred tastes. She prefers informality to formal- ity, and enjoys a novel with as much zest as a young girl. u I enjoy fiction," she said, u and find in it features of pleasure which do not appeal to the general reader. These are chiefly the dramatic possibilities in the plot and treatment. Nearly all successful novel writers possess more or less dramatic talent, and oftentimes one runs across a story by an unknown writer whose stage po- tentialities are magnificent. Sometimes I fancy that it would be a good thing for literature if [148] Viola Allen authors of fiction, in developing plots, consulted professional actors, in order to improve the qual- ity of their stories." In her home life, as upon the stage, she ex- ercises wise care in respect to her health. She is exceedingly regular in her habits, and believes that professional success must be based upon physical welfare. [149] Francis Wilson At the Orchard XII Francis Wilson At the Orchard WHEN a player has won fame by years of perennial humor upon the boards, and when his quips and ban mots have become part of the general stock of fun of the metropolis, it is hard to conceive that the man behind the mask is of an entirely opposite type from that of the mask itself. And yet this dualism has long marked the annals of histrionism. One of the great fun- makers of the English stage was Grimaldi, who, for the larger part of his life, was the victim of a hopeless melancholia. In the dressing-room Mr. Francis Wilson, the light-opera star, is thoughtful, serious, and interested in everything except the play which he is to make a living reality within a minute or two. His conversation is bright, and shows him to be a man of affairs as well as one of the world, and only here and there does a visitor obtain a glimpse of other and deeper attributes. While he is making up it is [i53] Eminent Actors in Their Homes fascinating to watch the way in which he oblit- erates his facial characteristics and creates arti- ficial ones. When he begins he looks more like a theologian or a lawyer than a Thespian. The lines of his face are clear, the expression is that which comes from reading and study, and beyond this there is a look in the eye which indicates a larger emotional and poetic nature than belongs to the average man. The lines vanish with the paint and powder, the hare's foot and the pencil bring out new expressions, and the wig and costume complete the trans- formation of the Francis Wilson of his home and intimate friends to the comical Francis Wilson known to the theatre-goers of the land. When the curtain falls at the end of the per- formance, he is quickly in his dressing-room, and shortly afterwards on his way to the Grand Central Depot to take the first train to his home in New Rochelle. It is the same when playing in Brooklyn, Jersey City, and other neighbor- ing places. The action reveals one of his tendencies, that of domesticity. He is not a man who cares to cultivate the social graces at the expense of his own home life. He pre- fers the atmosphere of his library, art gallery, [i54] Francis Wilson flowers, and friends to that of the clubs and hotels, which are only too happy to welcome him. Why the home should exert so strong an in- fluence is easily understood upon making a visit to his residence. It is not far from Long Island Sound, and the salt breeze of that great arm of the sea comes across farms and meadows, bring- ing with it life and invigoration. At the station you are met by a neat vehicle drawn by well- kept steeds, who carry you in quick time to M The Orchard," as the place is quaintly styled. It is a short drive, and soon you are at your destination. The house, a large, three- storied structure, stands back a short way from the avenue, and is surrounded by neatly trimmed lawns and attractive flower beds. A broad piazza runs around three sides of the house, and affords a delightful resting-place on summer afternoons and evenings. There are enough trees to add beauty to the landscape and to throw bars of shade across the lawn and into the doors and windows of the place. The owner meets you at the door. He is a trifle over medium size, slender, but strongly built, his appearance being that of a man in the full possession of his physical strength and [i55] Eminent Actors in Their Homes vitality. He is dressed in that easy and debon- air manner which marks the artist, poet, and musician. He extends a hearty welcome and leads you into his home. You enter a wide hall, from which a massive stairway leads to the upper part of the house, and are impressed at once by the many noble canvases which meet the eye in every direction. There has been no attempt at segregation or to confine the paint- ings to a so-called gallery. On the contrary, they are distributed well through all parts of the house. They are so numerous that they serve to furnish every corridor and apartment, and make the establishment seem more like an ancient mansion of the nobility of Europe than like the country seat of a simple citizen in this country. All kinds of topics are represented, and many schools of art. They have been selected with wisdom, and in nearly every in- stance are of great value. Some are from the great masters, and have been photographed and photograved, so that they seem like old friends to the visitor. Among them are a superb land- scape by Corot; a brilliant composition by Troyon; admirable tableaux by Van Horn, Van Marcke, Thaulow, Delpy, Cazin, Schreyer, Monchablon, and Ziem. [i56] Francis Wilson